#i guess if they're pulling out we'll here before then

[bigdvmnhero]

relationships: dick & bruce

word count: 5,406

summary:

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. Three things he knew: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) Here Dick was, persisting. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly,��if I loved Bruce less.

Or: Agent 37 and his various crises of faith, on Day 277 at Spyral, Day 150, and Day -0.

"Imagine: to ask and to be answered. Even the son of god knows what it is to beg and be met with silence. —Passiontide, L.T.

i.

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. There were two kinds of faith, Dick had tried to tell her—the one children had, and the tired, worn thing you held onto like balloon string long after the POP; the helium-high; the bright yellow of it in smithereens over your good shoes.

Dick had smiled as if to say, Guess what I got.

Her file read: Abigail, ex-military. Current head of the Sisters of the Ascended Veil. Her sneer said: unbeliever. Around her neck, the cross-shaped security pass that would allow Dick's team and several concussed Hadrian girls access to the bunker below the missionary outpost.

Through his in-ear, Helena barked over gunfire, "Get us shelter, Grayson. We'll handle Chang."

Chang, the rampaging meta in the sky. The ground shook with each distant blast. Tiger grunted, "Allah have mercy—" then came a staticky CRUNCH, a sound of which could've been anything from a tungsten rifle or a body, flattened like a sad, watery diner pancake.

Nerve strike, grab the pass, get it over with, Grayson. But Holy Head Honcho had taken one look at Dick and announced a bankruptcy of faith. Like Dick wasn't fluent in the daily death-defying act that was his life. Sure, his Catholicisms were a little rusty. His Talmud, worse. He had a pocket rosary from his mom that was missing two beads. Some of the old Bludhaven PD were severe Protestants, from whom Dick stole a fun Jesus fact he liked to pull out during parties, which was that when Jesus cried out at the ninth hour, a time for the regular ol' lamb sacrifice, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?—which of course meant, My God, my god, why have you forsaken me?—did you know it wasn't the pain of crucifixion that freaked Jesus out so much, but abandonment? Of separation eternal? How the sin of man, cast on his shoulders, had blackened his soul, cutting him off from his beloved father/brother/self in one?

Your "fun fact" is kind of a buzzkill, actually, Roy told him once. So Dick's experience with religion was a little slapdash. Sue him. It was just funny, was all. The Sisters, serving only God and various iron-fisted strongmen of the south, were said to possess a faith so absolute they could give Lanterns a run for their money—and even then they'd never know the scale of the miracles Dick had seen: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) here Dick was, persisting.

Closer now, the orange blitz on the horizon. Abigail stood before the imposing door of the outpost and did not budge. "You insist on entering holy ground with your… polluted soul. Even if what you say is true, Man With No Face, and there is a hidden bunker beneath this land, only the Lord's handmaiden may—"

"Enter holy ground, yes, yes, of course." Dick peered over her purple habit, into the black eye of the CCTV camera. Waved for the whole congregation watching. "Is it the whole… me being a dude thing? Fair enough, but you'll take my girls, won't you? They're just children." Children behind him groaned in a heap of limbs. Stowaway stalkers, really, but under Dick's protection, like all kids by default; a fact that would continue until the end of time. "You love children."

His Hypnos spasmed as Abigail blinked, rebuffing the mental suggestion of care-love-cute aggression.

"Or not?" Dick rubbed the baby fever from his eyes. "Huh. Guess having a maternal instinct's totally passé now."

"Your wicked offspring have no room here, outsider. Adopting strays is not the work of Handmaiden."

"So you'll let me do it for you? Good idea." One more time: the illusion whirled hot behind his eyes, bright as confetti. "You've wanted help for so long. I'll make it easy. I raised a few strays myself, y'know, they turned out great." Dick winced and did not think of Damian, the cold damp square of earth in the ground. "Wow, you're so relieved I'm here, huh? I clean, I cook, I make a kickass French toast—"

Sister Bitch put her hand in his face. "We do not gorge ourselves on the Sabbath. Enough, I can feel your… evil, in my head. Whispering, testing me. But my will is strong, as all my handmaids are." His earpiece crackled again: "WHERE'S MY EVAC, GRAYSON," boomed Tiger's voice, ornery and magnificent, and Dick almost broke character with relief. Abigail moved behind the door to bolt it closed. "If God wills you to die today, Man With No Face, then so be it."

Dick shoved a Hadrian crossbow into the gap. Good metal; vanadium. Dick could kiss it.

"Sorry, God, not dying today."

"You claim to know God's will!"

"Not God's." Dick grinned at her fury-blotched face. "Just a man's."

Earlier, while she'd monologued about his apocryphal nature, Dick had noticed the discoloration on her crucifix. It was the kind that could only come from restless hands. Skin bitten off, nailbed raw and cracked. Was this kinship, then? There was no gun, no gauntlet or secret spy gizmo that could rival the intensity of her conviction, Dick knew that now, except for what he always had, inexplicable and ordinary as his own hands. A battle of devotion was a battle Dick was always going to win.

"Remember? That day, you were careless. You lost everything, in front of so many people, and they—they just watched. But that man… he saved you. Took you in." Dick edged his foot into the door. "You've been falling for so long, Abigail, but he caught you. He caught you."

Abigail's face went slack. Dick felt bad for turning the crankshaft all the way; now her irises began to whirl in time with his—lazy at first, then fast, faster; trenchant like bloody pinwheels.

"Hasn't been easy, huh? Yeah, I hear ya. It breaks you up inside, to be away from everything you love, you even turned to religion. But he hasn't forgotten you." This would never get old: seeing the false memory annex the room in a person's mind, shuffling the furniture, slapping new paint on the walls. "C'mon, Abbie. Don't you remember? How good it all was?"

The early years—warmth traded under a heavy cape—a steady weathered hand on his back, like a new limb, a new wing—careening down dirt highways, soft rock on the radio—wind and rain; tinsel and dazzle—learning to divine the city's thousand moods, its metals—Gotham's rooftops unfolding beneath their feet, a pop-up picture book, and they were the kings of this land—they were winning the games, shooting threes, giving the people what they want—they were burning—burning something holy—

Abigail whimpered. Clutched her head. Dick felt several nerves burst; his or hers?

"He was just one man, but he—" What was he saying now? "He changed the world for you. He changed, for—for—"

Finally, Abigail staggered back, like whatever she saw was unbearable. "Dear God."

Dick reached for her. Panicked, he realized his Hypnos was still churning, memory after over-saturated memory, an engine with no kill switch. He fought a wave of tinfoil-flavored nausea. Found his feet. He'd been abridging the images as they streamed out of him—cutting Bruce Wayne out of The Batman to spare his identity—only for his feelings to cloud the system, a poison agent too sticky and hot and impossible to delineate. All he wanted, dammit, was to make her like the man, the way socialites and fanboys did—or at least dip her finger in the pool of Dick's great unpayable debt—so she'd open the bunker gates once Dick asked. Blood sprang up his eyes; the world lurched Looney Tunes-style. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly, if I loved Bruce less. Too late now, anyway; the Hypnos was still free-wheeling—an infinite carousel ride from hell where Dick was both the prancing horse and its white-knuckled passenger; he was in all the horses, all the seats; in one, he was swearing a candlelight oath—in another, nine years old, dying on a gurney—he was choking on radioactive fumes—he was watching Bruce as he suffocated by Lex's hand and saw the naked, childlike terror on his face, and even then Dick loved him; his wrong god, always too late—

Abigail reached out, seeing in threes. "Batman—"

"Yeah, he—" Another wave of sugary rust, pastel bile. "He's—even after everything that's happened—despite what you feel, he's—worthy. Of your loyalty. Of your—" Dick caught himself on the doorframe. "He has a mission for you."

Fingers clawed at her habit. "I can't—"

"You can. You will." Something too thick to be tears trickled down Dick's cheeks. It stained his teeth when he smiled. "Robin," he said, "that's you."

Abigail collapsed to her knees like someone shot.

The first symptom of Hypnos overuse was a fucked up vestibular system. Leaky Ear, Helena called it. Left was right and up was down was all around. Eventually, Dick made his way through the gap in the door and reached her.

"Oh God—how do—b-but if—" she stammered. "I'm Robin—"

"Yeah," Dick agreed, then with more enthusiasm, "Yay."

"What have I—?" She grabbed his shoulder like it was a ledge she was falling from. "I'm failing him."

"Not yet. There's still time. There's a meta out there, hurting your good neighbors. My friends are taking care of it, but they'll all need evac eventually. They're gonna come knocking, and you're going to let them all in. They'll need food, medical attention. You won't turn anyone away, Abigail, every life is precious, and we don't—what the hell. You know this part already."

"Food, shelter, yes," she mumbled. "I catch people, yes. I'm Robin."

"That you are, and that you do, so now—"

"I'm his partner, yes. His best friend. His—"

"Robin, focus." Dick shook off a dumb hot flash of irritation. "Aren't you gonna tell your ladies to open the bunker?"

In minutes of memory-planting, thirty feet of military-grade steel gates surrounding the outpost slid belowground, revealing the bright green manicured lawn of The Ascended Veil. The Hadrian girls cheered then fainted again. At least Tiger wasn't bellyaching on the comms anymore.

"Great job, Rob," Dick said. Then he blacked out.

(read the rest on ao3)

[devosin]

COOKING HAVEN, them cooking, cooking together with them, food tasting, everything you want in a food related fic <3

gender neutral reader / tooth-rotting fluff / crack taken seriously / entire twst cast / Aggressive flirting? Aggressive Flirting. / Really indulgent /

01. HEARTSLABYUL

Trey sighs, rubbing his forehead as he fights the will to stare back up at Ace's hands, as he struggles to chop the peppers on the cutting board, . . "Ace . .?", he calls out as softly as he can muster, and he stares up at him, "yeah?" . . "Take off the knife guard"

Ace stares at him dumbfounded, his head tilting slightly as he looks back at him blankly, "What?" he asks, "The plastic cover on the knife, Ace.", he looks at the knife blankly, then attempts to pull off the cover, his mouth opening to a round 'O' shape, when it comes off.

"Sorry, first time using . . err, fancy knifes." he says as he sets the cover aside, moving back to cutting the peppers as slow as humanely possible, careful not to cut his hands, "Well it feels like the first time you've cut anything in general, so I don't know what argument you're trying to make here." Trey spits back, slightly agitated with his slow movements.

Cater and Riddle, setting up equipment, mainly because Trey doesn't trust Riddle in the kitchen yet, . . he also doesn't trust either of them to be alone with the equipment alone, but together, it's different.

"Trey said to boil four cups of water?", Riddle states but it comes out in the form of a question because honestly he doesn't know what he's doing, "Like a coffee mug, right?", Cater asks holding up a small mug he found on the counter, "I think so, I mean what's the difference!" (There is in fact, a massive difference.)

After setting that up, where they may or may not have spilt water all over the counter; Cater runs a rag through the wet counters, cleaning over the leftover residue, "Didn't Trey mention something about, needing some yeast?" he asks.

Riddle thinks for a moment, "I think we'll be fine, baking doesn't need yeast right."

"Yeah you're probably right", replies Cater, as he stretches his arms, "I guess were done then", Riddle nods, "Mhm, wonder why Trey didn't give us more work."

"Yeah it's almost like he doubts our abilities in the kitchen", Cater states casually, "But were so helpful", "Exactly." (The delusional speaking to the delusional.)

Y/n, Deuce, and Trey baking together.

"Ok so the soup is boiling, I think we can try prepping the bread now?", Trey asks, "Sure thing", you reply, while Deuce helps tie your apron from the back.

"Just one problem . ." Deuce speaks up, finally letting go of the strings of your apron, and looking around at the ingredients laid on the counter, ". . . We're out of yeast." . . You pause, "doesn't all baking recipes, require yeast—"

Trey blinks . . "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT."

02. DIASOMNIA

Lilia looks over the recipe book, about one whole time before he deems it useless and throws it to the side (It lands in the trash, because clearly THE Lilia Vanrouge doesn't require such things), "Okay so we need some flour, oil, water—", he continues listing ingredients while Sebek goes out of his way to grab everything he mentions as fast as possible on the table.

"—Salt, sugar, lemon", Sebek reaches into the cabinet, before muttering, "Lilia . . we're out of salt."

Lilia pauses, thinking for a moment, his inner cooking genius coming together in his head, trying to figure out a swift solution, "We can just use baking soda . . I mean they're both white powders, right?!", Sebek pauses, thinking it over, "Yeah sounds perfectly logical."

Malleus, you, and Silver were in charge of making drinks for the picnic you had planned.

"Where's Silver?" you ask Malleus, while he washes the fruits you both bought the day before, "He fell asleep, I didn't think it would be polite to wake him up", you hum in response, bringing out the chopping boards and knifes on the counter.

You both started cutting mindlessly, while chatting away, "So, what are we making anyways?", he asks curiously, "Just a virgin cocktail of sor—ow—fuck!", you drop the knife, "Are you okay?" Malleus asks, ushering to your side.

"I'm fine, it's just a small cut, do you have a band aid?", Malleus nods, "Let me go get it!" (He proceeded to do everything alone until silver woke up and choose to finally help with cutting the rest of the fruit.

The picnic was outside, everyone helped set up the area.

"Lilia . . what's this?", you ask curiously eyeing whatever baked good was on your plate . . (It shouldn't even be called a baked good), "I don't know, I just mixed a few things and threw it in the oven, it's good no?", he asks curiously.

"I can tell", Silver mumbles, as you bump his shoulders slightly, "Ah yes, so good—So good in fact, I might just save it for dinner . . I mean Crowley, and his underpayment—"

"You can take all of it back to Ramshackle", Lilia suggests, "NO!—I mean, I couldn't—really . . it would HURT me." (He delivered a basket of baked horrors to your dorm the next morning.)

03. SAVANACLAW

Ruggie draws out his sigh, a scowl permanently placed on his face, as he stares at your pathetic attempt at cutting meat, "No—not like that . . you're wasting so much good meat", he mumbled the last part, he's trying to be nice, really, but there's only so much patience one can maintain at your mediocre cutting abilities. 

"You're massacring the meat!", he states firmly, as he finally shoves you away from the cutting board, and takes over your job, leaving you no choice but to move aside and let him have his way, "You know, this wouldn't happen if you . . just taught me how to cut the meat . ." you mumble out in protest, your hands laying at your sides. 

"I did", he responds dismissively, "No, you just handed me a knife and told me to cut", "Exactly, it's called immersive learning, something you're clearly not good at." 

You hold up your middle finger, "Fuck you", you bite back, but Ruggie doesn't respond back this time, focusing more so on cutting the expensive cut of meat he got off of Leona's Credit Card.

Leona enters the kitchen while you both were well near finished with kitting the meat.

"Morning", he yawns out, "So close, it's the afternoon", you blurt out, rolling your eyes at his overall casual demeanor, meanwhile you've been dealing with star michelin chef Ruggie's nagging all morning, from your cutting game, to how you can't just eyeball salt levels. 

"Close enough" he shrugs, looking over the counter, "Watcha' making?", he asks blankly, "Minced meat, clearly", Ruggie says in the most deadpanned way possible, pointing to your mess of cut meat, "Oh shit, who massacred the meat?" Leona asks, Ruggie looks at you. 

You cough, and look away, "I tried teaching them", Ruggie says in the most distraught tone he can muster, "Well clearly not well enough", Leona states bluntly, and you let out a small chuckle at Ruggie's expense.  

Jack comes in, awhile after Leona leaves the room, he greets you both and looks at the cutting board, one side of minced and mushed meat, and the other with perfectly diced meat, "Who fuck up the meat?", he asks bluntly, and Ruggie looks at you again, "Seriously, is it that bad!?" 

04. POMEFIORE

"Are you sure I'm doing this right?", you mumble out, as you continue mixing away, "You're doing amazing, trickster!" Rook exclaims, way too fucking energetically for it being 3am in the goddamn morning, your arms were practically falling apart, already aching from the school day, and now you're stuck on mixing duty, of all things that are involved in the glorious process of baking, mixing is the worst part. 

“Ah—I think we need more apples, give me a moment”, Rook walks out of the kitchen, and Epel finally lays back, stretching his arms, before looking at you, a chuckle escapes him at your expression, “You look like shit”, he says blankly, “wow, I didn’t ask”, you respond back, staring at him blankly, as he moves closer to you. 

You guys stare at each other for a brief moment, before he smiles and flicks your forehead, “Cheer up, you look like the goddamn walking dead”. 

You blink, and a smile takes over your features after probably hours, “Fuck you”, you mumble out, under your breath, but he doesn’t take any offense, moving back to his original spot. 

A couple hours later, the pie was in the oven, the lights were off, Epel was on the counter, you sitting down beside the oven, while Rook was busy mixing some sort of cocktail or something, surprisingly he’s good at mixing drinks.

“So anyways, Ace was like, ‘he doesn’t even have a hairline, why does he need a comb for’—”, you speak, moving your hands around as you recount your story, when something enters the room, something green, and your oven alarm goes off, ‘ring, ring, ring’, and the next thing you know, you, Epel were screaming and running behind Rook. 

“Oh, Good morning Roi du Poison”, Rook says in his cheery voice, and you both turn your face from him to the figure on the door, and then Vil flicks on the lights, groaning, “Why are you two still up, and why are you YELLING!”, Vil says, trying to stay as calm as humanly possible, turns out he gets up at the ass crack of dawn, and that his morning mud mask is a putrid green, things to note. 

05. IGNIHYDE

Ortho, sets the flour on the counter, you'd be surprised at both his speed and strength if you didn't know he was a robot, and you're also not in the position to focus on him right now. 

"Do I need to wear this?", Idia asks softly, as you tie the pink apron on him from the bow, making sure the strings come together in a bow, "don't you want to make your brother happy?", you tease softly, a chuckle escaping you as you watch his shoulders slump and he mumbles out a soft, "yeah . . ", the tips of his hair burn pink, he’s embarrassed. 

"Do you need help with yours?", he asks pointing to the white apron on the counter, you'd usually say no, but who are you to refuse when he already seems flustered over asking in the first place, "Yeah." 

Idia fiddles with the straps of the apron, struggling to tie a proper knot—"This isn't too tight, right?", he asks softly, and you nod. He ties a messy knot, that somehow holds together, you don't have to look at him to know he's embarrassed, you smile loosely, walking closer to Ortho, “Shall we start?”. 

06. SCARABIA

Kalim sits on top of the counter, headphones on, dangling his legs (he’s just a girl . . jkjk), as he watches you and Jamil cook. Too bad those headphones were soundproof, because what he thought was a cute interaction was actually World War 3 for you, “You call this a roti?”, Jamil asks you, trying his best to remain calm (he’s failing horribly), “Well it’s technically a roti . . “ you try and reason, the ingredients were the same . . technically. 

“. . .”, he pauses, taking a few deep breaths, trying to control his voice, which wasn’t working, “THAT’S A GODDAMN TRIANGLE”, you stare at Jamil blankly, “The roti has a good personality!” 

Jamil lifts the big pot full of water onto the stove, and sets everything up, probably because he didn’t trust you with many things, except pouring water into the pot, though he eyed you through the entire process, which at that point he could just do it himself, “Now put in the spices”, he says, as he watches bring out the turmeric jar. 

“How much?” you ask, as you take out the measuring spoons from the cabinet, “As much as your heart desires, only stop when your heart tells you to stop.”, he replies in the most serious way possible that you almost believed him. 

“Jamil?” you ask, “Yes?” he replies, straightening his back, “I meant the spices, not my love life, I don’t need advice from you of all people.”

“ . . . “ he pauses, “get the hell out of my kitchen . .” (He’s about to blow, actually), "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY—"

07. OCTAVINELLE

“Are you sure this is a reputable idea?”, you ask Azul as he looks through the ingredients Jade brought in for his new recipe idea, you don’t exactly understand why they asked you for your help, he has a multitude of workers to select from, but who are you to deny a cash offering, that’s just silly, Azul shakes his head, “Jade’s tastes are surely questionable, but he never fails when it comes to the Monstro Lounge.” he responds with a smile, his pen checking off everything in his list. 

“Why is Shrimpy here?”, Floyd asks curiously, leaning into the counter, placing his head in his hands, “To help, I guess . .” You respond, and Floyd shakes head, “No . . you need to eat”, Floyd says bluntly, “What? I ate!”, you snip back at him, confused at the sudden shift in topic, “No yeah, that’s why we asked you to come here, Floyd said you weren’t eating properly.”, Azul shrugs, as if this was just the most normal thing ever. 

And now you're here, on the table, eating something they served you, while Jade keeps you company, because apparently he’s not allowed in the kitchen for a month, after last week’s incident, which honestly you don’t want to know about. 

You take a bite of the pasta, they gave you way too big of a serving if you were being honest, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you gave up trying to shut them down, you look up, and find Jade staring at you, “What?” you ask him curiously. 

“You have something on your face”, he says blankly and you quickly rub your face, trying to get whatever it is off, and he chuckles, “Kidding, you’re really easy to trick”, you frown but continue eating the food in front of you, “Hey . . Do you happen to know why Floyd calls you shrimpy?”, he asks, eyeing you curiously. 

You shake your head, no, "You wanna know why?", he asks casually, almost comfortingly but you try not to misread the situation, you nod, "Why?" 

"Because you're like a shrimp, tiny and weak, on the lower end of the food-chain—", you throw a piece of bread at him, "I'm kidding—Stop wasting the bread!", he says, as he moves away before you can throw more at him, "What's the real reason?", you ask again, "Because you seem weak and sad, I mean with how Crowley treats you and all—", he pauses, “he didn’t explain more than that, but you seemed lonely, like a lot of shrimps.” 

And that's when it hits you, like a truck, these fish breath assholes, care . . a lot . .  more than you give them credit for. 

commissions / discord server / (limited time only) personalized advent calendar

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[peppermintquartz]

Continuation of this

"Why do I keep thinking about shellfish?" Evan asks after he's eaten breakfast and downed half the bottle of water along with the painkillers.

Tommy pulls up a chair. "You were going on and on about oysters and the sea last night."

"Oysters?" Evan's brow creases adorably. "Why oysters?"

How is it that I can't let you go? Tommy doesn't voice the thought, though he does smile at Evan. "Beats me. You were the one who was fixated on it."

Scowling, Evan pouts as he tugs on the hem of his old tee. The color used to be a dark green but it's been washed so often that it's faded. "It musta made sense. Otherwise I wouldn't be talking about it." Then his brow clears. "You!"

"Me?"

"I was comparing you to oysters!"

Tommy grimaces. Yeah, Chimney did say something to that effect. "You don't like oysters, Ev- Buck."

"Not the ones here in LA, they're fucking overpriced and not fresh enough. Peruvian seafood is among the best in the world, and I had this amazing oyster ceviche once that blew my mind." Evan pauses, then smacks Tommy's arm. "And don't distract me. I'm trying to remember my analogy. Okay, so you're like an oyster. How are you like an oyster?"

"I have the consistency of snot?"

Evan glares at him. It's a cute glare. Tommy coughs into his hand, trying not to show that he is charmed. With a huff, Evan starts with, "Okay. You have cultivated a hard exterior to survive a difficult environment."

Tommy nods. "Fair enough."

"And in response to the difficult environment, you cling to the familiar and try to hide because you're actually full of soft and tender delicious goodness." Evan raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Tommy pretends not to be perturbed by the read. "I guess you'd know exactly how I taste," he jokes flatly. Evan ignores it.

"You hide in plain sight," Evan continues, on a roll now, "and it will take skill to pry you out from your chosen rock." He reaches over to grasp Tommy's forearm. "But there's something that's different between you and oysters."

Tommy can't look at him. "I'm not a mollusc?"

Evan's tone is infinitely gentle. "Yeah. Showing me vulnerable side won't kill you, Tommy."

Clenching his jaw, Tommy stands and takes the tray from the bed. "You can take a shower if you want. I've washed and dried your clothes. A-and you have the other clothes you left here."

"You didn't pack them up," Evan points out when Tommy's nearly to the door. "You could've packed them up with my stuff and returned them. But you didn't." He cocks his head and a sad yet hopeful smile crosses his face. "The way I didn't pack up yours. Because we still want each other in our lives."

Tommy can't breathe. He flees the bedroom.

---

Now that he is here, Buck plans to stay until Tommy really opens up to him. Even if he has to camp here forever. Even if Tommy throws him out physically and changes the locks.

He knows how to pick locks now - thank you, Lockpicking Lawyer - and he will not leave Tommy's home until that uncomfortable conversation about the breakup is held. Maybe several.

Oysters aren't shut forever. At some point they open up. And Buck is going to be there when Tommy does. He's done waiting for Tommy to make the first move. He's done waiting, period. Now he is going to act.

"I'm driving you home," Tommy declares at noon. He is resolutely not making eye contact.

"Good luck doing that," Buck says. "Are you going to carry me out of here? Big strong firefighter pilot like you, I'm sure you can do it."

"I could... I could report you to the police for-for home invasion."

"You brought me home, Tommy. Hen and Chim will vouch for that, and I'm sure there's security footage." Buck isn't smirking, not that Tommy will know since he isn't looking. He gentles his tone. "All I'm asking is for us to talk about our relationship. Why can't we do that?"

His face red, Tommy shuts his eyes. Then he mutters, "Fine. Fine, we'll talk about it. But please put some clothes on."

"You've literally eaten me out for hours before."

"That's when we were dating!"

"If I put some clothes on, promise you won't try to get me out of your house?" Buck says, deliberately shifting in the bed so his legs fall apart a little more. Watching Tommy squirm is kind of fun. (So sue him, Buck's feeling rather vindictive about the entire matter.) "Because I can and will strip in your car and have us both arrested. Then we'll have to spend the night in a jail cell together."

Tommy inhales sharply. "Fine. I promise. Now... now cover yourself up."

First chink in the armor. Buck grabs Tommy's LAFD T-shirt and pulls it on, appreciating the way it hugs his body, and pulls on his briefs. He's been shameless before, he can be shameless again. He'll show Tommy that it's perfectly okay to be vulnerable and open to the people he loves through visual metaphor if his words won't cut it.

Anything to get Tommy to be his again.

+++

Next part

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[sports-on-sundays]

countertop make out sesh with marc guiu and someone walks in?🤭

stupid with love / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x girlfriend!reader - Sometimes there's a consequence to getting too carried away...

Warnings: well I'm just going to say it may get a little heated, I don't write scenes like this *often* so I hope it's good but we'll see

Requested: Yes.

Author's Note: 🤭 Thank you anon for the request! Sorry if it's not up to your expectation, because I don't write things like this often, but regardless, I hope you enjoy!

"There you are."

You look up from your phone and meet the brown eyes of Marc Guiu, who is standing in the doorway.

He continues into the kitchen, walking closer, "I've been looking for you. Why're you in here? Everyone else is in the living room..."

"I know," you shrug. "It's just... I don't know. It got a little loud."

Marc invited some of his friends, including a lot of the Barcelona guys, to his house for a little hang out. Of course, that also included you, being his girlfriend and all. But that's just it. The only people who know that you're dating are you and him.

And when you haven't seen each other in a while because you're both busy with your work and vacations and obligations, it gets tough to have him right in front of you, but be unable to shower him with love.

"Is everything okay?" he questions, leaning against the counter next to you.

You shrug a bit. "I don't know. I guess. It's just hard, you know... I've missed you, and I have to, you know, pretend to just be your friend, in front of all the guys. I haven't seen you in too long... And it's hard to fake it."

Suddenly, he takes a step so that he's standing in front of you, facing you, instead of next to you. Immediately, with the swift motion, his hands meet your waist, gently, and he says softer, "No, no. I understand. Completely."

And you catch the glint in his eye. "Hey, hey..." you murmur. "Calm down. Maybe we should just..."

"Just what?" he questions, clearly fighting a cheeky smirk. "I've missed you too... you know..." he murmurs, leaning closer. "And I'm sure no one will come into the kitchen... They're all too distracted to even notice we're gone..."

Your eyes search his as you feel your face heating up. "What are you planning on doing, Marc?" you ask softly, not meaning it as an invite, but more just a questioning.

But he takes it as an invite.

Your boyfriend slowly leans in, and gently tucks your hair behind your ear, before his hand returns to your waist. You feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he whispers, "Don't worry... Just enough to show you how much I've missed you..."

"Marc..." you murmur back, "you know this is stupid..."

He chuckles a little, hums, and responds, "Then maybe I'm stupid..." With his hands, he pushes your lower back into the counter, before gently lifting you and slipping you onto the counter, so that your faces are level, since he's taller than you.

And then his smooth, pink lips kiss you right below your ear lobe, and continue with a trail of kisses all down your jawline. You feel yourself heating up as his hands gently glide along your waist.

He leans away a bit, staring at you in your eyes, and you inhale as he leans back in again, and his lips meet yours. He starts kissing you gently, with soft touches of his lips against yours, causing butterflies to fly up in your stomach. But he slowly leans in more, tilting his head, pushing his mouth more into yours in a passionate kiss, telling you how much he's missed you through it. Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands gently slip under your shirt, and grip the bare skin on your waist slightly tighter. You gently allow your lips to slightly part, inviting his tongue to slip inside. His breath is quickened, and you can feel the warmth coming from his body as he presses his strong chest more into you.

Your hands travel to his lower back, and you pull him more into you, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt between your fingers. When Marc finally pulls away, breathing heavier, you warn smoothly, staring into his half-lidded eyes, "Nobody better find us..."

"Stop worrying..." he whispers back, leaning in closer once again. "Give yourself to me. It'll be okay... Just let me have you."

You exhale shakily but nod as your heart rate quickens and his lips meet yours once again, knowing you've reached the point of no return, and there's no going back now. You feel his hands slowly moving higher under your shirt, and a shiver of excitement fills your body as you let yourself melt into him, and you intensely return the emotions in his heated kisses. All the worries flow out of you as trust replaces them, not even caring anymore as the electricity of pleasure fills your body. He then gently nibbles your lip, which gets a shaky gasp out of you, and you clutch his back tighter as he delicately begins to purr about how beautiful you are. How lucky he is have you. And how he can't keep his hands off of you.

The movement of his body over yours makes you feel weak, and you're glad you're sitting on the counter, rather than leaning against it.

"Oh, just shut up..." you say with a soft giggle, your stomach tightening at the subtle, hungry look in his eyes, "and keep kissing me."

He lets out a quiet grunt before responding, "I've missed you so much, love..."

Your breath catches in your throat as his hands trace your torso softly, and he kisses your neck, giving it a gentle nibble. You let out another breathy gasp as your body quivers and he returns to your lips for more fervent kisses. His hands continue to travel further up, softly, and you feel a rush of desire and anticipation run through your whole body at how close to your chest his hands are getting, like he's teasing you.

He pushes in closer with another very soft grunt. Nothing and no one else exists right now other than you and Marc, and the feelings of connection, the shock of electricity, between the two of you.

So that's why it happens to fast and confusing when a voice in the outside world screams, "Ah- whoa! What the actual hell?!" and Marc tears himself away from you.

Your eyes shoot open, and you lean back on your hands on the counter, panting.

And your whole body freezes when your brain catches up, and there is Lamine Yamal, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Oh God. It just had to be the sixteen-year-old?!

He looks utterly shocked, and it's Marc who is the first one to act. He suddenly says, "Hey, you better not tell anyone what you just saw!"

"Uh..." is all the boy manages.

"No one. Got it?" Marc asks, his hand still lingering on your thigh, as if he doesn't even realize it.

"I'm, uh... traumatized," comments Lamine, slowly taking a step back.

"Traumatized?" you retort. "Give me a break! And you said you're such a romantic! Why are you even in here, anyway?" You're still hot, and feeling extremely embarrassed and somewhat indignant.

Despite it all, you kind of like Marc's hand gently remaining on you.

"I was just coming in for some snacks!"

You groan, "Marc, he's going to tell everybody!"

"You better not, you-"

"I won't!" Lamine squeals, taking another step back. You would laugh, if what happened hadn't just happened.

"Yeah, right," Marc snorts ruefully.

Lamine hesitates in the awkwardness of the situation, before saying, "I mean... so, you guys are dating, then?"

"If we are, it doesn't concern you, because nobody needs to know if we are or not," Marc claims, finally taking his hand away from you to cross his arms across his chest.

"So you are..." he says, a mischievous look on his face.

"You're sixteen!" you snap in disapproval. "Go and play with your toy trucks, for God's sake!"

"You're, only, like, three years older than me!" Lamine fires back, clearly kind of shaken by seeing his teammate with his hands under a girl's shirt, about to do-

Well, you know exactly what he was about to do, and you were looking forward to it, before Lamine had to walk in on you and ruin it.

"Well, you're the two that decided it was a smart idea to do this when you know-" Lamine starts up again, but is interrupted by Marc retorting, "You stop it. Now go back to the guys, and we'll be in there in a minute!"

"Oh, you want me to leave so you can make out more?" taunts the basically twelve-year-old.

This causes you to go even redder as Marc snaps, "No, actually!"

"Well, I'm going to have to go tell the boys about this, now... Too big not to..." He turns on his heel and leaves the kitchen playfully, but Marc calls, taking off after him, "You better not, you little idiot!"

You sit, left alone on the kitchen counter with your thoughts. You run a hand over your face, and despite it all, a soft, disbelieving smile appears on your face, as you know Marc would do anything, even wrestle his own teammate, to protect you, your reputation, and your relationship.

And you know Marc will be getting a scolding later, too, for this.

[curseofaphrodite]

Midnight Chase

REGULUS BLACK X READER

one more marauders fic before I move onto Avengers :) Also, I keep writing Reggie as moody and silent so I wanted to explore the headcanon of him being more like his brother. Have some flirty and sarcastic Regulus for a change!

"Let's try to see this in a positive light," James said, in the middle of the pitch-dark forest which was possibly infested with dementors or worse. "We could think of this as camping!"

Your groan was in sync with Lily's.

"Right, Sirius? Didn't we always want to go camping—?"

"Oh I don't know, I'm not sure I find the death-eaters-made-us-dissapparate-to-an-unknown-forest-while-a-literal-war-is-going-on part all too pleasant!" Sirius replied, which was the closest to a disagreement he had with James. The latter feigned hurt.

"We're all tired," you sighed. "Let's just find a place to rest and we can go back to the headquarters in the morning."

"What if it's too late then?" Sirius said, almost nervous. His mood being depressive was very unlike his usual self, but you weren't too surprised either. The Order was the closest thing to a family Sirius had, and it seemed as if everyone's lives were hanging on by a thread.

"We'll be fine," James, ever the mother of the group, tried his cheerfulness again. "I'll pull up Hogly's tent charm and—"

"No!" Lily said quickly. "Are you stupid? Don't answer that. If we use magic, there's a good chance they'll trace us to where we are."

"But we're of age," Sirius said, outraged. "The Ministry wouldn't trace us — unless, yeah they're infiltrated. That makes sense."

"No magic?" James's mouth fell open. "At least we could use lumos?"

"No," you shook your head. "It's better not to take any chances."

"But then how would we see?"

Even in the darkness, you could feel Lily's gaze on the back of your head. Being two muggle-born witches of the group, you realized there was a lot you needed to do to survive the night.

"Bring me a couple of sticks. And dried leaves. Lots of them."

---------------------------------------------------------

THREE HOURS LATER

---------------------------------------------------------

Light snores came around you, but you were far from asleep. If your guess was right, it was over two in the morning, so the sun would be coming up soon anyway. It took everything in you to focus on the stars and not on the events that led you to apparate here.

Y/N! Get out of the way! Moody had yelled as the death eaters appeared. It was your first time seeing them in cloaks and lifeless masks. You felt exposed, but with the headquarters three feet away, you couldn't run in and let the death eaters follow you.

Moody's sound from the inside had already tipped them off, but they couldn't find the location of the safehouse as long as the charms held up.

Feet rooted to the spot, you felt ashamed to feel your hands shaking.

Can't even hold my wand right, you thought to yourself. And as if on point, your friends had gotten out of the house and placed themselves by your side. If you couldn't get in, they weren't going to let you get outnumbered on your own.

Sirius, Lily, and James were three of the bravest people you knew, but you couldn't let them get hurt on your behalf.

So you did what you should have done at the start. You held on to Lily's hand who grabbed James by instinct. Sirius was to your left, so you placed your other hand on his shoulder, and with every inch of your determination left, you disapparated on the spot.

Now with the same guilt washing over you, was it even a surprise that you couldn't sleep? You won't rest your eyes for five seconds before you let your friends get in the headquarters safely without any nasty surprises.

A soft rustle interrupted your dark thoughts. Being hyper-alert as you were, you snapped your neck towards the source. Another rustle rang out — this one sharper than the last. You stood up, cautiously walking to the root of the sound.

Bunny. Please let it be a soft, cute bunny.

You held your wand high, and someone — a human — let out a startled sound. More rustles followed, and before you could figure out what was happening, a person dashed off right in front of you.

"Hey, STOP!" Was it stupid to follow a stranger in the middle of nowhere simply because they appeared scared? Yes. Did you do it anyway? Also yes.

Both of you sprinted through the forest, the trees being a bare blur. They refused to slow down, so you kept up the chase. The adrenaline helped through most of it though the unknown silhouette was almost non-human in its speed. You pushed harder with your muscles burning, and finally, with a hopeless leap, you collided with the stranger.

They hit the ground hard, rolling over the damp earth. The impact knocked the wind from your lungs. Your fingers dug into the rough fabric and the stranger's hood fell back.

You gasped.

"Regulus?!"

He looked shocked to the core, either from your strength or from the fact you knew his name.

"How do you even know me?" he asked, his voice a whisper from all the gasping for air.

You pointed your wand at his throat.

"Well, you're a little unrecognizable without your mask."

His face drained what's remaining of the blood.

"I just wanted to — can you stop poking that thing inside my nose?"

"I'll poke it wherever I want, you traitorous little scrumbag!"

"I thought you were above that sort of thing."

"Why would you think I'm above name calling?"

"No, the poke it wherever you want part."

Your face reddened. "Shut up while I decide what to do with you."

He laughed. "I'm sorry, it's like you're not hearing yourself!"

Why the fuck is the usual depressed emo Regulus Black as happy as can be? Then again, it was the midnight in a deadly forest so he might have felt right at home.

"That's it, I'm charming your mouth shut." You pointed the wand even further, and he let out an ouch!

"I'm telling you again, get that thing out of my face before I sneeze all over it."

"Ewww," you stood up on instinct, and he used that moment to get his own wand and point at you.

A moment passed.

"You're so... crude," you said in distaste. "I thought you weren't supposed to be like your brother?"

"Something to do with genetics, I assume." He smiled warmly. "Now, I'm only going to say this once."

"Expelliarmus!" you shrieked.

Nothing happened.

He sighed. "I'm skilled in occulumency. I used a shielf charm the moment you said expel. Spells always have too many syllables, don't they?"

You lowered your wand in exasperation. He did the same.

"What do you want?"

"Didn't realize this land belonged to you."

"You could have disapparated the second you saw me. Why didn't you? Why are you here in the first place?"

"The Dark Lord sent me."

You tilted your head and thought for a second. "I highly doubt he'd send only one of his death eaters if he knew where we were, let alone the youngest and most inexperienced."

He gasped, just as dramatic as Sirius. "Are you saying I came here just to be pinned down by you?"

Yup, exactly like Sirius.

"Barty has pull in the Ministry," he went on under your shrewd glance. "I tracked down my brother."

"But we never did any magic here..."

"I've been tracking him since he left home."

You blinked in surprise. "You what?"

"Just to make sure he's alright. . . though I doubt you'd believe it."

A man in moonlight trying to explain his sins. You'd be a fool to believe his words. And even more stupid to ignore them altogether.

"What do you want?" you asked again.

"I was just checking in on my brother, as usual. And I saw someone stargazing. I recognized it was you."

"And?"

His gaze softened, then he immediately cleared his throat. "And I was wondering if you'd speak aloud like some damsels in distress do. I thought I could reply from the trees and surprise you like the skies have replied. But you didn't move, nor did you speak."

"Do you usually go to Elizabethan english when you lie, or is that a quirk?"

He laughed, though it appeared forced. "Trust me, I was just caught leaving."

"Why didn't you disapparate then?"

"Do you honestly think they'd only track the Order? I wasn't going to take any chances."

Regulus Black was... nice?

"Well, I'm not sure how much I trust your words," you said, face high. "Come back with me to see Sirius, and let him make something out of all of this."

"No." It's the first time he sounded serious through the entire conversation. "My brother hates me. He does. I don't want to talk to him."

"But—"

"Y/N." His voice was stern. "I have to go. Take care of my brother — just until I'm back, okay?"

"You'll be back?"

"I've to take care of something," he said, his hands unconsciously touching his locket. "But after that, I'd be back. The freest man in the continent, you'd say."

"I don't trust you."

"So you've said." He walked towards you, giving you a quick hug. It felt awkwardly sweet, as if he's giving a hug for the very first time. You froze, but before you could do anything, he already let go.

"Time's running short," he grinned. "Now, the real chase begins. Do start running."

"Wait, wha—"

But he had already gone, disappeared in the blink of an eye. How can he disapparate if he said he wasn't going to take any chances?

Oh shit.

You remembered how you broke the protection first when you tried to disarm him. How the expeliarmus might have made death eaters alert. Regulus Black had cleverly evaded the scene and you probably had seconds to warn others.

You disapparated on the spot to your makeshift tent, but not before looking at the spot Regulus Black had previously stood.

I'd be back.

You found yourself hoping that was a promise and not a possibility.

THE END

_________

commissions | kofi

[eyecan02]

WARNING: MAJOR BEETLEBABES SPOILERS

I had fun watching this film. It was great seeing the OGs again, it was funny and it had a good script BUT I have to give this movie 7/10 because the pacing was off for the first half of the film and because of the two unnecessary Babyjuice scenes (We'll get to more of that in a bit.)

It just felt rushed and Beetlejuice and Lydia's scenes were limited. Yes, we knew from the get go that Keaton's scenes would be confined because that's how he wanted it but I just like complaining. lol

Before Lydia and Beetlejuice officially reunite, he starts spamming her phone with the Day O song playing with Beetlejuice's name in bold pops ups coming up nonstop. This happens when Rory is trying to talk about their wedding and Lydia just isn't in the mood to talk about it.

The first Beetlebabes scene is the "therapy scene" and its also the first Babyjuice scene. Lydia's belly grows quickly, her water breaks and out pops out Babyjuice. It starts crawling around and soon starts biting on Lydia's ankle. You do actually see bloody teethmarks on Lydia's ankle to which Beetlejuice says, "Takes after his dad." and he starts drooling exaggeratingly.

I don't remember the exact wording but Lydia called Beetlejuice "Demented." To which Beetlejuice replies with something like "Well, if me wanting to be with the love of my life is demented then fine I'm demented. Come here, honey." Yes, he actually calls her the love of his life!

He tries to do the gliding thing he did with Lydia during the first movie when he says this. Before Lydia is pulled to his side, she yells, "Home! Home! Home!"

That's when Lydia tries to hurry to get everyone out of the house and out of Winter River but Astrid tells her she has a date and somehow convinces Lydia to drive her to the boy's house. So Delia and Lydia board up the attic door and decide no one goes in and that they'll leave that same night right after Lydia gets married at midnight.

Now as most of us have heard- Astrid's crush has a secret. That secret is...that he's a ghost. Which, I feel so dumb about not guessing it. I should've figured it out when they showed "The Recently Deceased" book thar he claimed he bought at a "yard sale". The boy (can't remember his name) says Lydia can help him come back to life (not through marriage) and says if she travels with him to the Neitherworld, she'll help her see her dad again.

Lydia soon finds out that the boy (I think his name was Jeremy) was not only someone who killed his parents but is also a ghost (through info from Jane the realtor) so she rushes to rescue Astrid but gets there seconds too late. With no other choice she goes back to the Maitlands home and summons Beetlejuice.

The minute Beetlejuice gets Lydia into the afterlife...they're immediately separated right after the "Bonnie and Clyde line. The excuse? Beetlejuice had to "visit the little boy's room" as a plot device so that Lydia and Astrid could reunite with Astrid's deceased father. He's the one that saves them from the sandworm and helps them make up.

It turns out that Jeremy was gonna swap places with Astrid. She would've gone on the Soul Train that takes you to the "Great Beyond" and he would've resurrected as a living person. This takes place at an immigration office. Beetlejuice has kind of a heroic moment where he switched places with the person behind the glass that gives the "stamp of living approval."

When Jeremy looks at the paper that Beetlejuice gives him, it reads "Shit Out of Luck Fucker". XD This part had everyone howling with laughter. Beetlejuice stamps on the paper and that instantly opens the floor beneath Jeremy and sends him to hell.

Astrid's father helped Lydia and Astrid leave the Neitherworld through a portal in a mausoleum that is conveniantlly across from the church that Lydia is supposed to getting married at. Even though she doesn't really want to marry Rory, she decides to do it anyway. Tells Rory she won't change into her wedding dress- that they should just proceed as they are.

That's when Beetlejuice arrives with Delia, pushes her aside and tells her to "Scram!" lol (Earlier in the film, Delia tried to perform a strange love ritual with a pair of snakes that she was told were defanged. Spoiler: they weren't defanged so she died and got sent to the Waiting Room so since she doesn't want to wait there for ages, she summons Beetlejuice who agrees to help her if he can help her find his "runaway bride".)

Beetlejuice proceeds to drug Rory by stabbing his neck with a syringe and this somehow makes Rory confess whata scumbag he is and how he was just using Lydia for money. Another interesting moment where Beetlejuice is being "helpful" in his own way."

So the next five minutes are just as chaotic as Jenna Ortega described. And remember how we all had speculated that Beetlejuice wouldn't waste time with a song and dance and would try to get through the vows as fast as he could? We were wrong. Beetlejuice apparently thought he had all the time in the world as he starts to lip sync "MacArthur Park" and even had Lydia lip syncing the song to him. His make up got all runny as he wept at his own wedding.

They dance and then Wolf and his SWAT team crash the wedding followed by Delores storming in and Beetlejuice tells her, "It's not you. It's me. I'm just looking for a more soul mate type. You should be with a guy that is more into you."

He magically rips off Rory's shirt to reveal a shirt underneath that says "I Love Delores". Delores is not impressed. And I honestly forgot what happens to Delores but then the Sandworm scene happens and then everything calms down. Lydia, Astrid and Delia try to leave the church but Beetlejuice stops them, reminding Lydia that they have a contract. He pulls out the contract.

But then Astrid remembers something Wolf had mentioned earlier about Beetlejuice violating "Code 669" by bringing a living person to the Neitherword so she states that that means his contract with Lydia is null and void. Beetlejuice's contract proceeds to burst into flame.

Lydia steps forward and says "I'm sorry it didn't work out between us." She says something else that I forgot and proceeds to say his name three times and with each call of his name, Beetlejuice's body inflates more and more until he pops.

Delia promises she'll haunt Lydia and Astrid until they're sick of her. Wolf takes her back to the Neitherworld where Delia reunites with Charles's mangled corpse. It then skips to Lydia announcing the last episode of her show so that she can "start living".

Then it shows Lydia and Astrid traveling together. It looks like they're in Romania/Transylvania where Astrid locks eyes with a cute guy. Then a time skip where Astrid is marrying the guy. Another time skip where Astrid is giving birth. This is where it gets weird. She gives birth to Babyjuice that proceeds to start crawling on the walls. That's when Lydia wakes up, relieved that that was a nightmare when suddenly Beetlejuice leans over her in bed and says, "I just had the strangest dream." Lydia gasps and she wakes up again and slowly looks over to her left to see an empty space and no Beetlejuice.

So I'm guessing that's what that one interviewer guy meant when he told Winona "You sorta got your wish at the end." I guess it means Beetlejuice will always be haunting her and playing the long game of waiting for her. I need to discuss this with someone! What do you think of the spoilers? The ending in particular?

[oozedninjas]

This is more on the fluffy end, but could easily turn naughty if you choose. (￣▽￣)b

Normally shy crush randomly sitting on bayboys lap? They want attention and are determined to get it, flustered and all!

Also, hello! I love your posts. Thank you. (* ´ ▽ ` *)ﾉ

Reader sits on their lap to get their attention!!

2007 / NSFWish / Suggestive/boys are 25 and love to see you squirming for them

Leo is cleaning his katana when he feels your hands sliding over his shoulders. Immediately recognizing the touch, he glances at you.

"Hi, love. I thought our date was in another hour," he notes, a glimpse of a playful taunt in his tone.

"I got impatient," you say, sitting on his lap in one motion. "I want you now."

Your bravado stuns him for half a heartbeat before dissolving into a smirk. He places the sword on the side to pull you further onto his lap. His voice is a hot whisper near your lips. "Show me how much."

Raphael is fixing Turtle Movil's muffler when he hears your steps approaching over the smooth asphalt of the garage.

"I'll be with ya in a sec, doll!" he voices from under the van.

You humm, stepping on the edge of Mikey's skateboard, currently serving as support for Rafael to slide under the car. You roll him out.

"Hey! he whines sitting up, just half a second before you sit on his lap.

His breath hitches as you straddle him, shell pressed to the van's side.

"Sorry Raph, I don't feel like waiting," you breathe, trapping his mouth.

Donatello is so invested in talking about this new substance that he doesn't notice you stripping. When you press your bare chest to his shell and drag your hands over his plastron, his words trail off as he tenses.

"Hmm, darling?"

"Yeah?"

"W-what are you doing?"

You smile, turning his swivel chair to you, wasting no time sitting down on his lap.

"I'm listening," you mutter into his ear. "You're so hot when you talk about deadly substances. But I'd love to hear something a bit sweeter."

"Yeah? Like what?" he manages, heart racing.

You lick a stripe over his pulse line, eliciting a whimper from him.

"Like that."

Mikey was chilling, sitting on the worn-out couch, waiting for the TV to load what looked like a video. You placed your hands over his eyes.

"Guess who it is?"

"My Sugar bun?!" he says, turning back excitedly. "Hi! You're just in time, I'm about to start a new game! Let me show you," Mikey reaches for the Xbox controller, turning his back to you.

"Sure! Is the Brotherhood joining soon?"

He giggles at the nickname. "Nah, they're out."

You frown. "Out? All of them?"

"Yeah. Leo's training with his new partner, Raph's out with Casey… and Don's helping April cover some tech issues or something. Oh, and dad's sleeping," Mikey explained idly, choosing the abilities for the playable character.

"Wait, we'll be alone here for… a while?" you venture.

"Yup! So, you want to play with me?"

You smirk, climbing onto his lap. "Love to!"

He dodges you, his eyes glued to the TV. After a moment of contemplation, you break into a mischievous grin.

"But how about we make it more interesting? The loser has to take off an article of clothing for each game over."

You tug at his orange hood, and his eyes dart to you, a mischievous smile growing on his face. "Aw baby, you know you won't beat me, right?"

"I'll take the risk," you say, kissing his snout.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (LET ME GET WHAT I WANT)

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ ;) Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: threats of bodily harm wc: 4.3k

Nothing quite says party like a Tony Stark party. You distinctly remember your first one. You weren’t even planning to come, but when Tony saw you in bed with pajamas he bullied you into getting dressed. He said that you ‘needed to get out more’, which was bull, but whatever. As payback you drank as much alcohol as you could sneak. The scolding from Steve you got was worth it seeing Tony’s appalled stare.

This time, you intend to stay in bed.

Bruce Wayne has decided to throw a New Year’s Gala, for whatever reason. You think it doubles as a charity, but you don’t know why else he would throw it, nor do you care enough to find out. He did invite you, but you’re not too keen on being perceived by society.

“You look nice,” you muse, seeing Damian in his little formal wear. He’s made a quick stop in your room, for whatever reason. He’s a cute sight, so you’re not complaining.

Damian adjusts the cufflinks on his formal wear. "Thank you," he mutters, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "You should come.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Nice try, hun. But I’m really not in the mood to be around a bunch of snooty elites."

He sighs, looking slightly disappointed. "It would be more bearable with you there."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you tease, reaching out to straighten his tie. "Besides, someone has to stay and hold down the fort. Unless, of course, you’re asking me to be your date?”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t dignify your comment with a response. Finishing fiddling with his tie, you step back from him. You see his hands twitch just a tad.

“Hi, [Name].” You turn to see Jon poking his head through your doorway, smiling cutely. He steps in, letting you see that he too is dressed up for the party.

“Well shit, look at you,” you grin, eyes roaming his figure.

He spreads his arms out, bashful. “Look at me,” he says, hands coming up to fidget with his tie. “I wasn’t sure about the tie, though. Damian said it was too flashy.”

You chuckle softly. “He’s just jealous he can’t pull it off like you.”

Jon laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you glance between Jon and Damian, both looking unexpectedly nervous in their formal wear. It’s a stark contrast to their usual confident selves when they're out on patrol or facing down villains.

“So,” Jon starts, his tone casual, “are you coming with us?”

“Absolutely not,” you grin. “I do not have the energy to deal with people right now.

Damian huffs softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Jon before turning back to you. "You're missing out on Father's attempt at social philanthropy," he remarks dryly, clearly not a fan of the gala idea either.

Jon nods in agreement, his smile widening. "True, but I guess we'll have to suffer through it together."

You chuckle at their banter, appreciating their effort despite your reluctance. "Well, make sure to bring me back a good story or two. Preferably involving Bruce embarrassing himself on the dance floor."

Jon grins mischievously. "Deal. We'll keep you posted."

As they leave your room, Damian pauses at the door, looking back with a faint smile. "If you change your mind," he offers quietly, "you know where to find us."

You nod, blowing them kisses as they leave. You settle back into your cozy spot, grateful for the quiet evening ahead. From here, you can hear the chatter and glasses clinking from partygoers downstairs. You sigh and sink into your bed with no further plans for the night. Just as you start to drift into a more relaxed state, your thoughts briefly return to Damian and Jon.

Damian. Damian is so complex. So rich in character. He carries an air of absoluteness around him. Every now and again you have that realization that everybody around you is living their own complex lives. You guess that realization hits harder, since you had never entertained the thought of him being real. Foolish on your pat, with what you know.

Jon, Jon exudes a warmth that contrasts with Damian's reserved nature. His easy going manner and quick smile charm you so. Only he, who gets his powers from the sun, could shine so bright. He's the kind of person who can brighten any room he enters.

The sounds of the party drift up faintly, a reminder of the world outside your cozy sanctuary. For now, you're content to enjoy this peaceful moment to yourself, letting your eyes drift close.

.

.

.

“Hello?” a voice echoes out. It’s yours. An amalgamation of bright lights closes in on itself behind you. Footsteps echo as you walk down the alley. You don’t hear any civilians walking and talking or any cars going down the roads. New York is quiet tonight.

Swinging up onto a building, you began making your way across the city. The eerie silence is unnerving you. The usual hustle and bustle is conspicuously absent, replaced by an unsettling calm. In fact, New York is… completely dark. Not one apartment light is on.

Avengers tower looms over the city. It’s the only building with—some—light. The building… isn’t really a building. Half of it is gone, jagged and broken edges pointing skyward. Cracks litter the walls, glass broken.

Your footsteps echo softly as you approach the tower. The air feels heavy with a sense of desolation. There’s pieces of broken armor and weapons. Flickering lights casting eerie shadows.

As you move through the ruins, a faint voice calls out—a whisper carried on the wind. You turn, but there's no one there. The silence intensifies, punctuated only by the distant sound of your own breathing.

Suddenly, a figure appears before you—a spectral image of Tony Stark, his armor battered and glowing faintly. His eyes meet yours with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"You were supposed to be here," he murmurs, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. "Where were you?”

You reach out, but your hand passes through his ethereal form. He fades slowly, leaving you alone. You see a broken red, white and blue shield in the distance. 

“No, no, nononono. This wasn’t supposed to happen–”

There’s a woman behind you. She seems familiar. “You left us.”

You left them. All to die.

There’s a piercing scream as you're sucked into an explosion of colors below you. You try to reach out, to grab onto something, but there’s no one there.

You sit up with a gasp, suddenly at a loss for breath. Your body is tense and sweaty and you’re breathing heavily. Your heartbeat is booming in your ears. It feels like it’s going to burst from your chest. The sensation of falling fades as you orient yourself to the familiar surroundings of your room.

You glance around, reassuring yourself with the reality of your peaceful sanctuary. The sounds of the party downstairs continue to drift up faintly, a distant reminder of the world outside your door. You rub your temples, trying to dispel the last traces of the unsettling dream.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for a glass of water on your bedside table, sipping slowly to calm your nerves. “Karen, how long was I asleep?”

“Only an hour.”

You bury your face in your hands, breathing. Sometimes you think your mind is your biggest enemy. You should’ve figured, really. You haven’t had a proper nightmare since you’ve gotten here. It was only a matter of time.

“Might I suggest heading to the Den to take your mind off things?” Karen's voice is soft, achingly so. It’s comforting.

You don’t respond verbally, only nodding your head. You throw off the covers sluggishly, still trying to ground yourself. You put on the first clothes you find. They’re definitely not gala material, but that’s fine. You’ll only pop in to tell someone where you’re going.

Titus is loitering the halls, but he comes to you when he sees you out and about. He sniffs you, gruffing like he’s disturbed by something. Maybe he can sense that you’re a little unnerved right now. You give him good pets before moving on past him.

The grandeur of the gala spills out into the hallway, the lights casting a warm, inviting glow. Chatter floods your ears as you arrive just outside the entrance to the grand room. The place is perfectly lit up and shiny. The sounds of laughter and conversation form a stark contrast to the silence of your dream, grounding you.

Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away.

You hesitate at the entrance, your eyes drawn to Jon and Damian standing together. The way Jon's eyes light up when he looks at Damian, and the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugs at Damian's lips in response, speaks volumes. They stand close, their bodies angled toward each other.

Damian reaches out to brush away a curl from Jon's face. Jon smiles, mouthing something. He talks animatedly, eyes bright. Damian watches. Fondly, you realize, he’s watching. There’s even a little small smile on his face. It puts a matching one on your face. It reminds you of Pepper and Tony, the way they look at each other.

Like they’re in love.

…

Oh.

Oh.

Holy shit, they’re in love, aren’t they? Holy shit. How did you not notice? Well… you’re not often hanging out with both of them at the same time, are you? You know they hang out on their own without you. They were friends before they knew you of course. Since they were children. Oh God, you hope they aren’t, like, secretly dating or anything. You’ve been flirting with them, but it was playful! You swear!

.

.

.

God, what have you been doing?

You need to get home. You’re not supposed to be here. You should be at the tower, playing darts with Clint, or looking for colleges you want to go to. Not here, not pretending like everything is fine, everything is normal, everything is how it’s supposed to be. You’ve forgotten yourself, gotten too comfortable. You feel a sudden detachment, like a thread just snapped. This is a borrowed fantasy.

Like clockwork, you put on a grin, baring your teeth. You take a step back, the sounds of the party fading into the background. It's as if everything is moving in slow motion, every sound is distant and every breath is drawn out. The party fades away as you turn, making your way towards the exit. Each step feels heavy, like you're carrying a weight you can't quite name.

All you hear is a constant ringing in your ear as you swing from building to building. There are people in the streets, no doubt celebrating the incoming new year. The city seems especially alive, lights twinkling. You’re grateful you can’t feel the biting cold air thanks to your suit. You fear you’re already feeling too much right now.

By the time you reach the familiar tunnel, your stomach is in knots. You’re on autopilot as you move the rubble, climbing in. The cute fairy lights feel too bright now. Your mask retracts, letting you breathe in.

You grab a screwdriver, not yet knowing what you’re going to do. “You might be able to finish before midnight,” chimes Karen.

Really? Had you been that far along in your progress? Oh. Maybe you knew and just forgot. You don’t really know right now. Your legs feel stiff as you approach the particle accelerator, screwing in a part tight. You work methodically, hands steady despite the turmoil in your mind. Each screw, each connection, each calibration is a step closer to completion, closer to... what? A return to your old life?

Karen's voice interrupts your thoughts gently, "You're almost done. Just a few more adjustments."

You nod absently, tightening another screw. The particle accelerator is nearly ready. Your mind drifts to the dream again—Tony, the absence of life, your home that you don’t recognize. "You left us," echoes in your mind.

Finally, the last screw is in place. You step back, wiping a hand down your face, and take a deep breath. The machine hums with a soft, steady power. It's ready. You're ready. Or at least, the machine is.

You stand back, staring at the particle accelerator with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The steady hum of the machine fills the air, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. It's a portal, a bridge to another reality (the start of one, at least) another chance to set things right—or at least, to find some semblance of peace.

You insert a prism into it, making sure it’s secure. “Initializing…” hums Karen. The particle accelerator hums, lights flickering on and running down it. Sound whirls as you grab the little wheel you attached to it. “Approaching maximum power.”

The machine shakes as you turn the wheel. The prism turns, guiding a light. The light cuts through the space, producing fire and sparks where it hits. It cuts an old pipe in half. Whoops.

In front of you, lies an object akin to that of Tony Stark's arc reactor. Of course, it’s not actually an arc reactor, it’s just there to hold the new element. The light pierces and cuts until finally, it reaches its target. You think you hear the prism chime as the light hits the little triangle in the holder. You know that that’s the case when the chime gets louder as the light gets brighter. Brighter, brighter, brighter—oh.

You turn the machine off, looking at the glowing creation. The light fades, showing you the bright glowing triangle that is the new element. You sigh in content.

You duck under the particle accelerator, approaching the mimic arc reactor. Your fingers flex in anticipation, reaching out. The claws of your suit clink against the tiny triangle as you pick it up.

“Congratulations, [Name]. You’ve successfully recreated Tony Stark’s new element.”

You hum. “Well, couldn’t have done it without you and your awesome know-it-all abilities, my dear.”

A symphony of crackles, pops, and booms that fill your ears. Each pop rattles off as it fades. Oh, the fireworks. Is it…

“What time is it, K?”

“It is currently twelve AM, on the dot. I think this was an appropriate way to start the new year, don’t you?”

You chuckle, bowing your head. “Happy New Year.” You wonder if Damian and Jon… no. Probably shouldn’t think about that.

“Happy New Year, [Name].”

“...Happy New Year…”

You whirl around, fist tightly curling around the badassium. There’s no one there. Um. Were you imagining things? Oh, you see now, a figure there in the corner. A figure, somebody. Somebody that looks like…

Looks like…

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now…”

How did your senses not pick up on them?

“I… don’t know what I’m doing here myself.”

They’re stepping closer to you.

“I guess… well. I don’t know.”

It’s… it’s…

“But I do know… that I’m sorry. I was… I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

It’s the spider… the one from the warehouse. The reason why you’re here.

“You…” Suddenly, you can’t breathe.

They clasp their hands behind their back, looking around the room. Then they look at you. Stare at you. The eyes of their suit squint as they take in your face. “Pretty cozy place. More cozy than mine, that’s for sure.”

You put down the badassium, afraid you’ll break it in your fist. They turn to look at it, then at the particle accelerator. “You work fast. Faster than me. It took me way too long to make that big stupid thing. I didn’t have any blueprints or even confirmation that it would work, but–”

A scratchy yell erupts from your mouth as you pounce at them. They dodge, fucking spidey senses.

They hold out their hands. “Woah woah woah, wait–”

You don’t wait. You lunge at them again, claws swiping out to them. It lands, leaving behind red. They don’t have an armored suit like yours. You have the advantage.

They scramble out of your way, knocking over things as they go. “Please–”

You grab their suit at their collarbone, pulling them to you. “You!”

“Me?” they squeak.

“You’re the reason I’m fucking stuck here!”

“I know I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! I was being stupid! I just–”

“I don’t care,” you growl, showing your fangs. Your shoulders flex, releasing the nano spider legs. They emerge hauntingly, their sharpened points glinting, poised and ready to strike.

“You know, I’m not really like the other spiders. Most of ‘em anyways,” you drawl. “Apart from being the only [Name] I know, my moral compass is a roulette wheel. I’m a hero of course, I save who need saving, and punish who needs punishing.”

“Truth is,” you lean in, eyes wide and flickering with hot pink, “I am much more keen to violence than the others. I’ve killed people. A couple of people, actually,” you admit, voice low and intense. “Doesn’t make me a true good person, of course, but it does make the world a bit safer for those that are.”

They try to struggle free, but you hold them firm. "I'm going to figure out what you need. So tell me, what the fuck are you doing?”

They sniff, taking in a deep breath. “I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t hurt people.” Their hands quiver as they latch onto yours. “I just wanted to go home, and I thought you were gonna stop me–”

You growl and they yelp. “It’s not an excuse! I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s my explanation. I just.. I felt bad. I was…” they pause.

“I was working on this machine. A particle accelerator,” they sigh, oblivious to the way your ears start ringing. “I was messing around, and I got stuck in your universe. I tried to go back home. I tried for so long, acting like everything was normal, like I belonged but I… I had to go back home.” Their voice gets wobbly. “I spent so long there, I got desperate.”

They start sniffling, and you know they’re crying. “I thought, if I could find where you went… I could help you get back to your universe. So what happened to me won’t happen to you.” They take a step back. Oh, did you let them go? “I can’t take you with me. Other things can't pass through my portal without turning to dust, but…”

They reach into a pocket, pulling out a small, intricate device. It glows softly in their hand, emitting a faint, steady pulse.

“...What is it?” you croak.

"It's a catalyst," they explain, their voice still shaky. "It’s what I used to stabilize the rift. You know, so my atoms wouldn’t get scattered across space.”

Your gaze narrows, skeptical of the device in their hand. "Why should I trust you?" you demand, voice edged with exhaustion and anger.

They take a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a mix of desperation and sincerity. "You shouldn’t,” they admit. "But I know what it's like. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone."

You stare at the catalyst, the faint pulse mesmerizing. "And if this doesn't work? If you're lying?"

You feel their eyes on you through their mask, voice filled with regret and determination. "Then you can do whatever you think is necessary. But I promise you, I'm not lying."

Your silence hangs heavy between you. The sounds of the fireworks outside are distant echoes, reminding you of the world outside this tense moment. Finally, you reach out and take the catalyst from their hand, feeling its weight and the subtle hum of energy within.

“You really want to help?” you whisper, fist curling around the catalyst. “Find Miguel O'Hara from Earth-928.” Your grip tightens around the catalyst as you step back, letting the weight of the moment settle in. The stranger stands still, their eyes fixed on you through their mask. You can see the weariness in their posture, the heaviness of their own burdens reflected in their stance.

“Find him, and tell him where I am.”

They nod slowly. “I’ll find him. I promise.” Their voice holds a note of determination.

You step back and wave an arm. “Just go.” You’re well and truly done with everything at the moment.

They stand for a moment, looking at you. Looking through you. Then they turn away, and all you see is an eruption of bright and colorful light, before it’s gone just as fast as it came. The Den feels unfamiliar to you now.

You sink to the floor, mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. Sound is distant, the only thing you hear is a loud ringing. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving. Your face feels wet. Ah, it’s tears. You’re crying. Why are you crying?

“–me]! [Name]! Come on, come back. I’m here, it’s okay–”

“Jon?” Is that your voice?

An arm curls around your shoulder and crowds you into his embrace. His warmth contrasts starkly with the cold dread that had settled in your chest. He holds you tightly, his presence grounding you. You cling to Jon like a lifeline, his warmth grounding you in the present.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hand smoothing down your back.

Sniffling, you sink into his embrace. “What are you doing here?” you mutter.

“Where else should I be?” With Damian. “I stuck my ear out, heard your heart beating fast. And the sound of you… well.”

You sigh heavily, cheek against his chest, listening to his own heartbeat. It's strong and steady, everything you want to be. “My heartbeat?”

He nods against your head. “Your heartbeat.”

You sigh again, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. “Oh, Jon...”

"Shh," he soothes, his hand still moving gently along your back. "You don't have to say anything right now."

"I don't deserve you," you murmur into his chest, your voice barely audible.

Jon tightens his hold on you, his voice firm yet gentle. "Don't say that. Please don’t say that."

You take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the night’s events settling over you. Jon’s presence is a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Jon.”

He tilts your chin up gently, his blue eyes filled with concern and determination. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You don’t say anything, simply resting your head against him. His lips press against your forehead, gently and warm.

“In other news,” you sniffle, moving to get out of his embrace. He holds on to your for a moment, uncertain. But a persistent tug from you makes his arms drop. You reach up, grabbing the small glowing triangle. “Look what I made.”

He eyes the small thing in your claws. “What is it?”

“The badassium. The new element that I’ve created.” You rock it around gently. “I did it.”

Jon's eyes widen with surprise and admiration as he gazes at the glowing triangle in your hand. "That's incredible," he says, reaching out to gently touch the shimmering surface.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering heaviness in your chest.

He looks up at you, his expression softening with concern. "Are you... okay?"

You hesitate, unsure how to answer. Instead of words, you hand him the glowing badassium, letting him examine it closely. The warmth of his touch is grounding. He studies it, turning it this way and that, before looking at you again. He puts it down where it was, coming back to you to hold your hand.

“You’re incredible,” he breathes. You don’t have any words, so you keep your mouth shut. 

“...Wanna go home?” he asks tentatively. You nod. He slowly steps forward, kneeling down and hooking his arms under your legs and back when you show no sign of hesitance. Jon lifts you effortlessly, cradling you close as he stands. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes feeling heavy.

“I'm not invalid, Jon.”

“Just let me take care of you.” He shouldn't say things like that.

He makes sure that the Den is properly blocked and hidden by the rubble. After that, all you feel in the cold air biting at your cheeks as he flies you across the city. The lights below blur into streaks of color as you soar through the night sky. You cling to him, feeling the steady rhythm of his flight beneath you.

People are still at Wayne Manor as you approach, lights shining bright. Jon serves around the side, pulling up to your room's window. You sigh in relief as he gently sets you down in your room.

You see Damian rush over to you both, suit jacket forgotten. Was he waiting here for you?”

“Where were you?” he demands, hands coming up to rest on your arms. His concern is evident, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Jon steps forward, his hand resting on Damian's shoulder. "It doesn’t matter now. They’re okay," he reassures Damian, who nods slightly, though the crease in his brow doesn’t go away.

"Sorry," you say sincerely, looking at both of them, "for worrying you." You gently push Damian’s hands off you and go to your bed. Your clothes are comfortable enough, you decide. The soft pillow feels heavenly as you sink into the mattress. Hands come up the pull your blanket over you, lightly caressing your forehead before leaving.

Hushed voices bickering are the last thing you hear before darkness pulls you in.

notes: so... how we feeling? LOL

ngl i feel like the reasoning is cheap but how y'all liking the parallel? it'll make more sense later on, i promise ;)

also am i evil for using the "oh. oh." in that context? yes. yes i am

[mxstellatayte]

next door kind of love.

warnings: none, just some childhood best friends to lovers and tooth-rotting fluff. make your dentist's appointments now yall.

growing up living next door to the sargeants was an interesting experience. your parents were friends, having bonded when logan's parents moved in a few months after your own parents had. then, a few years later, they had dalton. just over a month after dalton's first birthday, you came along, and then eight months after you, on new year's eve, logan was born.

the three of you were inseparable as you grew up. you'd accompany them to their races and they'd support you at your roller derby tournaments. they would find a new way to climb the tree in your back yard and you would set a time record for climbing that route. the three of you had more inside jokes than you could count, made up more backyard games than anyone could ever begin to comprehend, and trusted each other beyond the ends of the earth.

when the sargeants moved to switzerland, though, you were crushed. sure, their plan was to only stay for two years, but those two years started to feel like an unbearable eternity after just the first month.

"mama," you said, a bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in your mouth, "i miss logie and dalt. when are they coming back?"

"not for a long time, honey. i'm sure they'll come visit, though. how about we call them and see how they're doing?"

your face lit up. "yeah! can we call them now? can we can we can we?"

your mother smiled and shook her head, the papers surrounding her full of confusing numbers and big words like "homeowner's insurance" and "disability pension application."

"maybe, honey. we'll have to see what time works for them. first, though, i need you to finish your lunch, strawberries and all. can you do that for me?"

"sure, mama."

lo and behold, two years had passed, and the sargeants were almost back to florida. your father had the idea of surprising them at the airport, so you'd made a giant sign that said "WELCOME BACK SARGEANTS!" in bright blue magic marker. after selecting a spot you deemed visible enough, you craned your neck every time a new flow of passengers exited, hoping to see your best friends. every time you caught a flash of what might've been one of them, your heart skipped a beat, but when you finally saw dalton, logan, and their parents, it felt like you were on the moon.

you mustered up as much air into your thirteen-year-old lungs as you could and screamed.

"DALTON! LOGAN!"

every head in the airport whipped around to you, but you couldn't care less. your two best friends were running full speed at you, suitcases abandoned with their parents, and you couldn't stop smiling. you're slammed by the tightest hug you've ever experienced and you might be seeing stars from your ribs being crushed but that doesn't matter when you finally have dalton and logan back with you in florida.

you're muttering so many "i missed you"s and "i couldn't wait to see you guys"s and "i have so much to tell you"s into them, and it feels like forever before you guys let go of each other.

"you guys ready to get out of here?"

when logan won the karting championship in 2015, you'd never screamed louder. you were the first person he looked for after the race and the person he hugged the tightest.

when you made it to the top roller derby league in your area, he was the first person to congratulate you, and he brought you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers- baby breath, white tulips, and jasmine.

as logan worked his way up through the different levels of formula racing, you'd always manage to stay up to all hours of the night to watch him race or even send him a simple "good luck" text.

when he told you he'd been admitted to the williams driver academy, you almost tackled him to the ground with how much force you hugged him with. "i'm so happy for you," you said, repeated like a mantra.

"and guess what?"

"there's more?" you pulled back from the hug, looking up at him.

"i get to do a post-season test drive in abu dhabi."

"what?!" the smile on your face is not only from pride, but now also shock. "lo, are you serious? that's amazing! when did you find out?"

"maybe..." he checks his watch, eyes looking up. "five minutes ago?"

"wait. did you tell your parents? and dalt?" he hesitates, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. you can't help but think, even for an instant, that it's... kind of cute?

"logan hunter sargeant, did you tell me before you told your parents?"

"i might have..." the scowl on your face deepens, and you pull away from him, remove the house slipper you're wearing, and whack him across the head with it.

"out of my house! go over to your own and tell your parents, your literal givers of life, that you're driving a fucking formula one car! out! out with you!" you wave him out of your front door and watch with a smile on your face as he runs back to his own home, laughing when he trips over himself and falls into the grass. a few minutes later, you hear dan and madelyn scream with joy.

"my best friend is going to drive a formula one car," you say to the wind. "holy shit."

a bit over a year later, when logan signs with williams to drive with them in 2023, he still tells you before his parents.

the tuesday after the austin grand prix, a new post on your private instagram account appears. its location is tagged as the circuit of the americas and the caption reads "one of the perks of your best friend being a formula 1 driver is getting to go to austin and get paddock passes for free. the other is getting to spend the weekend with your best friend."

in may of 2024, logan brings you to the miami grand prix. at the end of the race, you are the first person he looks for. you are the person he hugs the tightest. you are the person to tell him that it wasn't his fault that he crashed and he did everything he could. you are the person whose shoulder he cries into and the person who gently holds his face and wipes his tears away with your thumbs.

you are the person to stand on your tip toes to place a kiss to his lips, the salty taste of his tears reaching your own lips. you are the person he sees when he opens his eyes and, when you backpedal in the slightest bit, you are the person he pulls closer and kisses like he means it.

you are the only person that hears when he says that he's loved you since you surprised him at the airport when they came back from switzerland. you are the only person that hears him say that it's always been you that he's loved, that he's never seen anyone else besides you.

and he is the only one that hears you say that you love him, too.

[duhragonball]

Daima 06: Lightning

Centipedes? In my rations? It's more likely than you think!

Last time, Goku's group set out for the next leg of their trip, when the plane crashed. Apparently it wasn't that big a deal. Panzy concludes that they put too much luggage on board, which kept the plane from flying very far, but it didn't actually do much damage. Panzy recommends they leave a bunch of their supplies behind and she'll give the engine a look and they can be on their way.

Okay, I think there's a growing consensus among fans that Daima is slower-paced, and maybe this is setting up a controversy over whether this is a good or bad thing. Maybe the honeymoon period for the show is winding down, or we're just far enough into the series for the audience to realize it's probably going to be this way from here on. So I'll go ahead and weigh in on this.

For my part, I think the pacing is fine. It's different from the other shows in that you don't have this constant reliance on filler to pad the runtime. We're not checking in on King Kai to see what he thinks about all of this, or sending Goku on a fetch quest that ends up becoming a plot cul-de-sac. Instead, we're mostly laser-focused on this one set of characters on a journey, and occasionally we'll switch over to Gomah or Bulma's group on Earth, and pretty infrequently too.

But Daima does its own padding for time, and it does it by lingering a bit on things that probably don't need quite so much time. Conversations take a bit longer than they need to. The running gag where Goku gets Glorio's name wrong. The fight scenes are a tag gratuitous, but I think everyone gives them a pass because they're good. Still, I don't think anyone was worried about whether Goku could win that barroom brawl. If this show had half as many episodes allotted to the same plot, I'm pretty sure they could cut a lot of material and get the important stuff to fit.

I don't mind that much, because this relaxed pace kind of reminds me of reading the Dragon Ball manga. By that, I mean each episode kind of feels like a manga chapter, and not that much gets done in a single chapter. You might have several panels of characters getting to know each other, and then just enough exciting stuff to make the chapter feel worthwhile. Actually now that I think about it, it's a lot like my experience reading the Jaco the Galactic Patrolman manga. It's like twelve chapters, and the first five or so are very focused on introducing characters and situations, so it really doesn't pick up until the end, and even then, it's still quite low-key. But it's so good that I didn't mind it. It was just really chill. Daima feels a lot like that.

That having been said, I do find this plane crash between Episodes 5 and 6 kind of a cheap way to waste time. King Kadan described all the extra provisions he loaded onto the plane in Episode 5, then the plane started to go down and Panzy said it was the excess luggage. Then in Episode 6 the plane lands and Panzy repeats that the luggage was the problem, and she lists all the supplies all over again.

Then Panzy gets out her tools to run a diagnostic on the engine, but instead of actually working on the plane, she asks the Supreme Kai what his whole deal is. And that's fine, but it starts to wear thin in places. Like, they could have just had this conversation on the plane and gotten wherever they're going. The plane crash just adds time, and I'm not sure how many more times they're going to pull that trick before it gets old.

Nevertheless, I'd rather watch these characters talk about themselves outdoors than on the plane, so I'm not too worked up over it. But I can already tell this is going to be a focus for Daima critics in the future.

I like the way Goku explains the Supreme Kai. He tells Panzy there's a "bunch of god-like guys called 'Kais.' And the greatest one of them all is Supreme Kai-sama here!" and he gives him a hug while he says it, like he's bragging on a pal, which I guess he is. I just think it's nice to hear Goku's perspectives on all of his friends.

Panzy's impressed that Shin is a god, and that he made a smart move leaving the Demon Realm to take the job, but then she finds out he doesn't get paid, so it sounds less impressive to her. This kind of raises more questions than answers. Does Panzy even understand what a god is? Also, it seems pretty clear now that Shin and all the other Kais were born in Demon Realm and left to become gods in the Outer Universe, but how did that work? Did Grand Zeno put up a help-wanted sign? Were their other overseers that the Glind replaced when they became the Kais?

I just always assumed these guys were some sort of weird feature of the design of the universe. Like, there were always Kais running things, and they were literally born and bred to carry out that role. But no, they're just Demon Realm expats who showed up to work one day. If the universe functioned without them before, then why do we need them now? Hopefully this series will answer all of this.

Anyway, Goku's gotta poop, so he just announces this to everyone for no reason. He farted in Episode 3, so I have this sneaking suspicion that this show is going to do a lot of Goku poop-and-fart stuff as we go. That might be a good idea, as it keeps the show from getting too reliant on "Goku's hungry" gags. GT did those a lot, and it got pretty ridiculous. It got to where Goku would complain about being hungry right after he got done eating. If he said he had to poop half the time, at least it would cut the hungry gags down to a manageable level.

Anyway, Gomah's troops show up while they're waiting for Goku, so Glorio and the others have to play it cool to get rid of them. Glorio claims to be from the First Demon World, and Shin from the Second, but since Panzy's from the Third, they want to scan her collar, which she has under her scarf. Gomah apparently made all the Third Worlders wear the collars to make it easier to collect taxes from them, but he didn't implement this policy elsewhere, since the goons aren't too suspicious of Glorio or Shin. They find the idea of tourists traveling around the Third World strange, but let them go. Oh, and they ask if they've seen a kid with spiky hair and red pole, because there's a ten gold coin reward out for him.

Goku returns when they leave, and Shin suggests that Goku tie his hair back or something. Goku says his hair is too resilient for this. Oh, right, there was that Super episode where he had all that hair gel in it, and his hair sort of broke loose like when the Incredible Hulk rips through Banner's pants legs but not the crotch. Panzy asks if Goku washed his hands, and the answer to that question is no. Goku, that's nasty.

The gang take off again, and Panzy asks Shin if it's true that Glinds are born from trees. Shin confirms this, so I'm glad we're not doing away with that lore. I was seriously beginning to wonder if Toriyama forgot about all that stuff, or if he was dumping it in favor of new lore. Of course, this is all news to Goku, so the Supreme Kai explains how his kind are born "once every few centuries from the Glind Tree". There's a flashback to show this, and we see these trees with big purple trunks that are all fat on the bottom, and the newborn Glinds are in these holes in the bark, just hanging off of stems from their backs.

Also interesting to note: the Glind buildings and vehicles in this shot look a lot like Namekian houses and ships. I don't know if that's intentional, or this is just Toriyama's aesthetic for this sort of thing. I always thought Majin Buu's house looked a lot like Namekian architecture, for example.

So does that make the Supreme Kai and the other Glinds plants? I never really thought of it that way, so Goku raises an interesting point. Shin says he "doesn't know about that". I feel like there ought to be a firm answer to this, one way or another. Goku also asks if this is why Shin only drinks liquids and never eats, but Panzy jumps in before he can respond. I feel like we've seen Shin eat before, but oh well.

Panzy wants to know about Degesu, who works as Gomah's second-in-command. Is he Shin's brother? Yes, because he was born from the same tree about 216 years after Shin. Are all of the Glinds brothers, since they're all born from the same tree? No, because there's five Glind Trees. Kibito and the Elder Supreme Kai must have been born from one of the others.

Panzy wants to know why Degesu remained in the Demon Realm instead of leaving with the other Glinds? Okay, this implies that there was one Glind migration out of Demon Realm, and Degesu chose not to go. But for this to work, it must have happened after Degesu's birth, which is well after Shin's.

The thing is, Kibito is much older than both of them, and the other Supreme Kais from Universe 7 are even older still. I'm talking about the ones who fought Majin Buu and Bibidi like five million years ago. The whole point of all that was that Shin was the rookie Supreme Kai, implying that the others had been doing the whole god thing for a lot longer.

And then you have the Elder Supreme Kai, who's much, much older still. He claimed to be the Supreme Kai from fifteen generations prior. I'm not even sure what that means if they were all born from the same five trees. Maybe it just means there were thirteen Supreme Kais between the Elder and the current Supreme Kai. But Shin reigned as Supreme Kai for at least five million years, so these aren't short terms in office.

I'm not too worried about this, because I have to assume we'll get to an episode that explains the Namek and Glind exodus from Demon Realm. They keep bringing it up, so it must be important. And I guess this is what I mean when I say I don't mind the slow pace of this show. There's still a lot to look forward to, even if it's just characters swapping lore.

But back to Degesu, Shin says that he was very ambitious and didn't get along with the other Glinds. That doesn't seem like much of an answer to me. Then again, Shin came along on this mission because he hasn't seen Degesu in so long and he really doesn't know what he's been up to after all this time. He may not know a whole lot about him in the first place.

Panzy asks about a Glind woman who's a genius scientist, and Shin confirms that this is Arinsu, his older sister. Or, more accurately, they're siblings, since Glinds don't actually have genders, so they're not "exactly men or women."

Again, I had heard this about the "Core People" before, and I'm glad they didn't toss out this lore. I've never quite understood it, though, since the Elder Kai is big horndog, and the Supreme Kai of Time once got a big crush on Bardock in Xenoverse 2. Arinsu has big ol' titties, and I don't know how you get those if you grow from a tree. Like, none of these guys have anything to do with sex at all, right? The trees might have freaky deaky alien tree sex, but not the Glinds themselves.

Then again, I guess this is all just fantasy stuff, and I might as well be asking why Arinsu has nostrils or ears. There must be some magic that makes these trees grow people, and maybe some of them end up with big ol' titties or a magnum dong or both or neither. But until today I kind of figured all of the Kais were just completely smooth down there. Like they didn't even have buttholes.

Perhaps they modify their bodies at some point in their life cycle, and some of them present as man or women just out of a personal preference or some sense of fashion. This might explain the Supreme Kai of Time's transformation where she gets really tall and shapely. They all sit around figuring out what they want to look like, like they're screwing around with a character creator mode in a video game. Chronoa's like "Yeah, I want my base form to be all smol and cute, and then my super form's gonna have a big ass and big-ass titties."

Wait, maybe I'm onto something. The Supreme Kai gave Goku those pointy ears with remarkable ease. Maybe that's not a special weird power that only gods have. Maybe all the Glind have it and they do it to themselves all the time. Degesu just gives himself a third testicle for a week to "see how it rides."

Anyway, we don't learn anything new about Arinsu in all of this. She's a mad scientist who also stayed behind for the excitement of Demon Realm, but this was already known.

Night falls and Panzy explains that it's perpetual twilight on Third Demon World nights because there's two suns. Glorio wants to land and make camp in a cave for the night, and Panzy hates this because she wants to shower. Goku's like "skill issue, just never shower, like I do."

While Goku sleeps off dinner, Panzy asks why Glorio says he's from First World, when he looks like a Third World guy. He claims that he got hired by someone in First World, so he currently lives there. Who hired him? He deflects the question. Shin asks why he wants to defeat Gomah, and he claims it's because Gomah is evil, but Shin finds it odd for a Majin to have such a defined sense of justice.

Anyway, we find out exactly who Glorio's working for, because he phones up Dr. Arinsu while the others are asleep. But Shin hears him return to camp, so he clearly knows something's up, even if he doesn't know what.

By early morning, a minotaur comes out of the cave they're sleeping in, and he plans to eat them all. Apparently he stinks really bad. Goku isn't scared because he thinks the guy is a cow, so he doesn't get why this guy thinks he's on the other end of the food chain. Normally this is where Goku would kick some ass, but Glorio volunteers first, and Goku's like "Uh, I'm the main character, I should fight this guy." But Glorio doesn't see it that way, because he doesn't think Goku's that much stronger. Well, there's only one way to settle this, so it's on.

Yeah, the minotaur gets reduced to a spectator, and it's Goku vs. Glorio. Goku's impressed with Glorio's abilities, but we all know he's not trying very hard. Finally, Glorio whips out some purple lightning powers, and Shin asks Goku to fight harder so he can see the true extent of Glorio's power. I guess he figures that'll help him understand Glorio's agenda better.

So Goku fights harder, but Glorio manages to knock the Nyoibo out of Goku's hand, and he prepares to fire some big finishing lightning move. Goku decides to try something out, and he turns Super Saiyan. He did this briefly in Episode 5, but now he's staying in that form, and just stands there and lets Glorio shoot at him so he can try to deflect the beam. And he does. He just throws out his hand and it dissipates on contact. Goku does a little self-satisfied "Hmp!" and then snap-vanishes behind Glorio and puts his hand on his back. Fight's over, Goku wins.

This is a really great way to introduce Super Saiyan into the series. This is very likely the most iconic aspect of Dragon Ball. Maybe the Kamehameha clears it, but I don't think there's much else that comes close. So it's hard to imagine viewers who don't know anything about the form, but they're still out there and they need to know. So we have Goku fighting in base form, and then he decides to use it, not to win a hopeless battle, but to do something cool in a sparring match. Base Goku could probably have done something else to defend against Glorio's power, but Super Saiyan Goku can just tank the thing and get past Glorio's guard all at once.

It doesn't give away the entire Super Saiyan experience. It's a power up, and it shows a lot of promise, but here, it's just one of Goku's many techniques. The full extend of it can be shown off later. It's still an open question how well Goku can fight this way. He's been de-aged, and the environment in Deamon Realm slows him down further, so it's possible that he can't use Super Saiyan as long as he could before, or maybe he can, and it just doesn't give him the same boost that it normally does.

Also, it's just really cool to see Goku enjoy showing it off. He does this cool smile when he finishes transforming, and he looks all badass when he blocks Glorio's beam, and he's grateful that he can still do it in his kid body. "Yep, I'm whatcha call a legend, nbd. The missus doesn't like the hair color, but what're ya gonna do, right?"

Oh, right the minotaur. Well Goku hasn't forgotten him, but the minotaur suddenly remembers that he had a big dinner the night before, so he's too full to kill and eat these guys like he said he would, so he goes back to bed. Well, that's a shame. Maybe they should swing by this cave on their return trip.

Goku poop update: He has to go again.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Vegeta is doing reps on the Lookout while Bulma finishes the Supreme Kai's old plane. They all pile in to follow Goku to Demon Realm, but Bulma… stays behind? That's weird. Anyway, the ship lifts off, then immediately breaks down. It didn't even get twenty feet into the air. So that's another plane crash cliffhanger for you. I sure hope this show finds a more reliable mode of transportation soon.

[captainlunaxmen]

Panic 2.0

Chapter 1

Dodge Mason x fem!reader x Ray Hall

This is a rewriting of my old series on @lunamadhatter99, I decided to rewrite it because the series wasn't completed, and I didn't like it that much anymore.

Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged in the next chapters.❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: graduation day!

Chapter warnings: none.

Tag list.

@stuckinthesmalldoor @once-upon-an-imagine

@idontevenknow1359

Relief is all I feel right now in the auditorium, waiting for Graduation to begin. I patiently sit with the other students waiting for my name yo be called, next to me my closest friends: Natalie, Heather and Bishop. I look behind me, a few rows behind I spot the new guy, Dodge Mason. I gently smile at him and he smiles back, we bonded a lot since he arrived last year, which is something that makes me proud, since he's not known for being the most open person here.

Graduation is the first step out of here, out of Carp, Texas, which all of us call the capital of Nothing.

The second step would be the local summer game: Panic. It's easy to explain Panic: you play and if you win, you're out of here. What's the catch? It's in the name, Panic, the challenges aren't exactly children friendly.

And, funny enough, the game has one simple rule: do not panic.

--------------

"Is your aunt coming?" Heather asks me as we walk out of the building. Natalie and Bishop being congratulated by their families.

"Nah... I didn't even get a text, I don't think she will show up." I shrug, "what about your mother?"

Right before she could answer a sweet little voice calls Heather's name.

"They're here." She smiles, almost apologetically to which I respond with a reassuring smile.

"Guess I'll see you tonight." I chuckle.

"You don't have much of a choice." She laughs walking off.

I dare to take a look around for my aunt, but as expected, no one in sight.

"Congratulations, Y/n." I turn around seeing Natalie with his father walking to get their picture taken.

"Thank you, officer!" I wave at him and Natalie and start to walk off too.

I take just a few steps before another voice calls for me.

"Y/n!"

I turn around once again, watching Jessica, Dodge's mother, walking towards me with Dodge next to her.

"Hi, Jessica." I smile, warmly at her.

"Congratulations, sweetheart." She hugs me tightly once sheclose enough, Dodge sends me and apologetic yet amused smile.

"Thank you." I say pulling away, "so nice to be finally done." I laugh.

"I bet." She smiles brightly, I notice her looking around.

"She won't be here." I casually say, Jessica looks at me, sorry.

"Do you need a ride home?" Dodge cuts in, sensing the beginning of embarrassment.

"Oh... no, no, I'm good." I quickly say.

He looks at me unconvinced, then hums.

"We'll give you a ride. C'mon." He motion on and starts to walk without waiting for my answer. Jessica smiles proudly and walk away as well, so I have no other choice but to accept and follow them.

--------------

"I think I already know the answer but... Will I see you at tonight's party?" I ask, as I step out of Dodge's car.

"You definitely know the answer." He smile at me and I sigh, nodding defeated.

"You're lucky I'm not like Natalie, or you wouldn't hear the end of it." I say.

"I tried to make him change his mind, but he's stubborn." Jessica chimes in from the driver seat.

"Yeah, it's one of the first things I learned about him." I laugh, "but I can't say he's wrong. I'm not a party person myself."

"You're young, enjoy these years, trust me." She tells us, using a sweet and motherly tone.

"We do enjoy them differently." Dodge replies smugly.

"I agree" I support him and Jessica just rolls her eyes with a smile, "I'll see you tomorrow at work then."

"Of course." He smiles.

"Be careful tonight, sweetheart."

"Drive safe!" I say walking to my house.

Well, my aunt's house, but since she's never here, it might as well be mine.

My phone rings once I change into something more comfortable.

Natalie, of course.

"Yes" I greet with a laugh, "I promised, I know."

"Oh good, you're making my job easier." She cheerfully replies. "I'll get there around 8? Does it work for you?"

"I don't have much of a choice so... yeah." I laugh.

"Wear something cute. We have to celebrate! Wear that cute dress you wore at my birthday party." She suggests at the end.

"Do you want to control what I wear now?" I scoff out a laugh.

"You're just so cute in that! C'mon!" She insists, "I'm making my puppy eyes."

"That doesn't work if I can't see you, you know that, right?"

"But you know what I look like." She sings trying to get me to agree.

"Fine.." I sigh, deeply, letting out a laugh too, "fine, I'll wear that stupid dress."

"Hey! It's not stupid! It's cute!" She scolds me jokingly. "I'll see you tonight, bye!"

"Bye!" I say having up the phone and heading ot my wardrobe to take out the short dress Natalie referred to.

To pass the time I'll clean around for a while, just to keep my mind busy. If I start to think, I'll end up thinking about Panic and I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to risk thinking too much and then back down. I'm taking the risk this time and I'm determined to win.

--------------

We arrive at the already started party, Natalie parts from us to go greet some friends of hers, while I go find Heather and Bishop.

I spot them near the fire, drinks in hand already so I make my way to them.

"Hey." I say taking a set next to Heather.

"Hey Y/n. You came!" Bishop cheers, surprised.

"Natalie forced her to promise she would be here." Heather explained, simply.

"Exactly. Can't break a promise." I sigh, but glad I spend time with them.

"We're happy you're here." Bishop nod towards me, "you're just in time, we were-"

Ray's loud voice interrupts him mid-sentence.

"Oh god.." I sigh, Heather pats my arm comfortingly.

Ray gets close enough to shove the cup against Bishop.

"Final collection." He, basically, demands.

"School's out, okay? I'm not even playing." Bishop replies, raising both hands up.

"Think of it as an insurance." Ray says bending over to get on Bishop's eye level, "it's gonna be one he'll of a summer."

"C'mon, man, I'm not gonna play." Bishop tries once again, with a nervous laugh.

Suddenly Ray grabs his arm, it looks painful from Bishop's expression.

"We're all playing, one way or another," Ray says, not letting Bishop go.

Heather looks at me, pleading, and I sigh.

"Ray, leave him alone." I warn.

He turn his attention to me, looking me up and down until a smirk appears on his face.

"Well, well, well... did you dolled up for me?" He asks.

"No." I answer.

"Are you sure, baby? You know I love you in that dress..." he says, staring at my legs.

"You say that about everything..." I say annoyed.

"That's because you are my favourite." He winks and gets closer.

"Could you leave us?" I ask.

"Mmh?" He hums, then bends over, the cup rests quietly on the ground, he then puts his hands on both armchair, caging me.

"Listen, I know you have some trouble understanding human language, but this is pretty basic." I say and his smirk only grows.

"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. We both know the truth." He says and I catch him looking down at my lips.

"If it helps you sleep at night." I turn my head to find some support in my friends, but they only loom unsure of what to do.

"I do think of you at night, actually, if that's what you're wondering, but I don't... sleep exactly." He leans closer.

"You're disgusting." I push him away.

"Took you long enough to push me away." He winks again, "see you soon, baby."

And with that Ray finally walks away with his cup.

"Prick." I mutter out, takingn a sip of my drink.

"Hey," Heather calls for us, "a toast. To global amnesia."

I nod, grateful, at her and raise my cup.

"Nah..." Bishop says, "selective. There's a few things I want to remember."

I notice Heather and Bishop looking at each other, something passing through their mind and I would swear There's something going on between these two.

As we toast, Natalie finally joins us.

"Hey, what did I miss?" She asks.

"We were toasting to a future free of Ray." I answer her.

"And who will you angry flirt with?" She teases.

"Uh?"

"That guy sucks." Bishop intervenes, to which I nod.

That's how the evening goes, we talk, remembering the good old days, while Bishop and Heather also try to talk me and Natalie out of playing Panic... no success on their part.

"Let's go dance!" Natalie exclaims, to change subject. She grabs Heather's arm and goes to grab mine too, but I manage to avoid it.

"I'll sit this one out." I say, I notice Natalie's stare, "I never promised I would dance."

She scoff and grabs Bishop, who gives me a helpless look and I just shrug waving at him.

I decide to just stay seated and enjoy my beer and my peace.

"Waiting for me?" Ray's infamous voice makes me groan annoyed.

"Obviously not. Now if you don't mind leaving me alone." I say, not looking up at him.

"I do mind. Especially when you play hard to get, you know how much I love it." He replies, sitting down and dragging the seat right next to me.

"I'm not playing anything. I simply don't like you." I tell him and he leans closer to me.

"Yeah... sure." He softly says, looking down at my lips.

"It's not gonna happen again." I warn.

"Let's bet, then."

"Uh?" I can't deny I'm intrigued.

"I know, you like challenges, so let's bet." He says, confidently looking into my eyes.

"Bet what?" I ask, pretending not to be interested, but his smirk only shows me he see right through it.

"If I win Panic, you'll be mine." He says, looking at my lips again, biting his own.

"Yeah, sure." I laugh at that, taking a sip from my beer.

"Too scared?" He teases.

"No." I, too quickly, answer.

"C'mon," he whispers, "you're sure I'm not gonna win, right?"

"What I get if I win, uh?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"I'll leave you alone. Even though we both now you don't actually want that." He winks and stands up.

I consider him for a moment before nodding my head, standing too.

"Fine." I say.

He takes my beer and take a sip from it.

"Deal." he holds out his hands waiting for me to shake it.

"Deal." I sigh, taking his hand to shake it.

He hold my hand for a moment before he pulls me to him so he can whisper into my ear.

"Can't wait, baby." He leaves a peck on my ear and I quickly move away from him.

He smirks and starts to walk back, my beer in hand, before nodding his head and fully turning to walk away.

"Shit." I sigh.

I go look for Natalie and tell her I'm about to get going, since I have work tomorrow.

She tries his best to keep me here and celebrate, with Heather and Bishop's help, but I did my part and it's time for me to go and get some rest.

They reluctantly let me go, Natalie offers to take me home, and since it's already too dark I accept.

I can't wait to lay down on my bed, hopefully forgetting about the bet for a while.

[disneyprincemuke]

could've been * fem!driver au

where logan decided to make a move on her after her confession instead of ignoring his feelings and eventually getting over it

notes: I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST OF THE LOGAN X FEMDRIVER I'M SORRY THEY HAVE CONSUMED MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT

this is a one-off fic im sorry i'll be back to regularly scheduled fem!driver content huhuhuhu

(series masterlist)

-> bahrain, 2023

a knock makes her look up from her phone before the door is pushed open. "logan," she smiles widely, scrambling to get up her beanbag seat as she jumps over to him. "you managed to get away from alex without him asking where you're going?"

"barely," logan answers tiredly. "he's taking on that big brother role very seriously."

she laughs before reaching out to close the door behind him. "you look so pretty," logan grins, arms wrapping around her as she approaches him. "purple is your colour."

"blue has always been yours," she smiles up at him, grabbing the material of his race suit as she pulls him into her, "but do you know where i prefer your race suits?"

logan hums in response, tilting his head as he willingly leans into her. "on the ground," she whispers before their lips meet.

lost in their kiss, they don't even hear the doorknob to her driver's room open. there, oscar and sebastian stand with scowls on their faces as they're greeted by the sight.

"you've got to be more discreet if you don't want anybody finding out about your relationship," oscar scowls, walking into the room as he sips on his water bottle.

"hater," she mutters with a roll of her eyes, pulling away from logan. "god forbid i kiss my boyfriend in the comfort of my own driver's room?"

"we wouldn't be here asking you guys to cut it out if james hadn't asked us to confirm again your involvement with one another as we walked here," sebastian sighs, shaking his head. he looks at his driver, hands on his hips as he shoots her a disapproving look. "you've got to be more careful."

"okay, i'm sorry," she sighs, shrugging her shoulders.

"i don't get it," oscar frowns. "people are clearly okay with you guys being mega best friends or something. why not just tell everyone you're dating?"

"it was already a struggle for me to get into f1. imagine what people would say if they find out i'm shagging another driver?"

"ew, i don't need that picture in my head," oscar sighs, taking a seat on her beanbag. he looks at logan with a scowl. "what are you even doing in her driver's room? don't you have a team to be with?"

logan shrugs with a giddy smile. he leans on the table. "i'm on lunch break. nobody's gonna question me coming to see her - i've been doing that since we were in f4. everyone knows that."

"yeah, but they're not stupid," oscar rolls his eyes, "you guys have been more touchy since f2."

"okay, enough with the debate. we'll be more careful and private," she says, hands in the air to cut the conversation short. "we're new to the sport, anyway. i guess we've really got to watch it if even james is asking."

logan shrugs. "fine, we'll be more careful."

sebastian claps after a moment of silence, before pointing at the door. "alright, gentleman. we've got a team meeting in like 5 minutes," he sighs. "i'm afraid i'll have to chase you away so i can be alone with my driver."

"aw, no goodbye kiss?" logan frowns, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her as sebastian forces him out of the room.

"no."

"not even a small one?" she teases, pouting her bottom lip out at sebastian as he successfully pushes logan out of the room.

sebastian sighs, closing the door as logan looks in to wave goodbye to her. "kid. you can handle being away from your boyfriend for like 30 minutes."

she smiles, shaking her head. "i know. i was just playing around."

"how you guys manage to hide your relationship for almost 2 years acting the way you do," sebastian mutters, "will always be a mystery to me."

"you'd be surprised how much people buy into the lie that we're just best friends because oscar is always with us," she smiles. "i guess it's kinda absurd to date someone you fight on the track with every other weekend."

sebastian raises an eyebrow. "you've never fought about that? really?"

she presses her lips together, deep in thought. "surprisingly, no. we're actually very good at drawing a line between us and whatever happens when we're in the car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

[changetyre]

Not like this (P10) II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death, slow burn.

A/N: Better late than never...

As you sped away into the night, tires screeching against the damp pavement, the silence in the car seemed louder than that of the gunfire you'd just escaped. You kept your gaze trained forward, unwilling to betray any hint of the turmoil in your mind. You never meant to drag him into this mess, yet here he was, determined to help you when he could have easily abandoned you or killed you. 

You hadn't spoken a word since you'd bolted from his place, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging heavily in the car. Finally, he broke the silence, voice low but tense.

"Did you let anyone see you? In your little escapade?" he asked his grip tight on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road.

You glanced at him, unsure whether it was anger or something else. "No. I was careful Charles."

His jaw clenched. "You're sure no one caught even a glance?"

"I don't know," You replied honestly, averting your gaze. "It's possible Charles...I-I don't know."

He scoffed. "You don't know..." he repeated your words. 

"Charles I told you you didn't have to do this. Are you second-guessing your decisions? Why did you even run with me then?" I questioned him, aware of the building tension between us. 

He laughed bitterly. "Good question. Maybe I have a weakness for trouble. Or maybe," he glanced at you, his dark eyes softening as he looked at you, "I'm not as willing to let you go as I should be."

You let out a shaky breath. Your walls, carefully constructed over years of deceit and control, felt dangerously close to crumbling. Here you were, vulnerable and exposed, relying on the man you'd once thought of as nothing but an enemy. 

"Pull over," You said abruptly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shot you a sideways glance, eyebrows knit in confusion. "Are you insane? Do you want to get killed now? They could have followed us you know?"

"Just pull over!" you screamed, your desperation left no room for argument.

Reluctantly, he guided the car to a secluded side street, the engine growing silent. You leaned forward, your head in your hands, and your breathing was uneven.

For a moment, he thought you might be on the brink of passing out, the overbearing weight of everything finally overtaking you. But then you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a fierceness he hadn't seen in you in a long time.

"You don't get it, do you?" you laughed, a defeated laugh, voice shaking with a mixture of anger. 

"Whoever did this to me...whoever is coming after me won't stop. They're cruel. They've already wiped out everyone in my circle, everyone I ever cared about, and trusted. They just came after you too Charles. I'm the last loose end...and anyone who gets close to me becomes a target, you've become a target." you looked him straight in the eyes. 

"I'm not exactly a stranger to danger," he replied, his voice calm but with a firmness to it. "You think I haven't faced threats before? I'm not some helpless bystander."

"This is different Charles" you insisted, frustration evident in your voice. "They're organized, smart. They know my moves, my strengths, my weaknesses. And now...they know you're involved."

His expression softened, and he reached over, his hand grasping yours, warm and grounding. "I'm not running away. As I said, we're doing it together...and we'll be ready"

You stared at him, still confused as to why he was so adamant to stay by your side. For so long, you'd built your life around distrust, convinced that everyone would betray you. But here he was, offering support...and maybe something else she was to scared to face. 

"Ok." I nodded looking down at your linked hands, a small sigh of resignation slipping out. "This won't be pretty Leclerc. There's no telling what they'll throw at us next."

He smirked, shifting the car back into gear. "Let them come." His tone was so confident it almost made me believe there was no way we would be defeated. 

Charles started driving again, in silence, but it was different this time. The tension that had once simmered between you now felt like something else his hand remained linked with yours and it wasn't awkward. You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever his fingers brushed against your hand or the way he would use your hand to change gears instead of letting go. You tried focusing on formulating a plan, piecing together the scattered fragments of information you had.

"We need somewhere safe to hide out," he said after a while, breaking her thoughts. 

"I know a place," she replied, her voice steady. "But I have no way to tell if it's compromised. Could be dangerous."

"Risks don't scare me." Charles smiled. 

You hesitated. "It's an old safehouse on the outskirts of the city, that belonged to my great-grandparents. Hardly anyone knows about it. Or at least I hope." 

"We can't keep driving forever. We have to risk it." Charles agreed. 

You nodded, Your mind already shifting into a tactical mode, plotting the next steps. If you reached the safehouse, you'd have a chance to gather supplies, and maybe even access some information about who was behind the attack. But a gnawing doubt and fear lingered, that the safehouse was already compromised. 

The drive felt endless, the road twisting through darkened streets and deserted alleyways. You drove all night, city lights faded as you moved toward the outskirts, replaced by the eerie silence and loneliness of abandoned buildings. Finally, you arrived, the safehouse looked just like every other abandoned house you'd passed, with no indication of recent activity. 

You'd exited the car cautiously, scanning the area for any sign of movement. You led him to a hidden door on the side of the building, taking a deep breath before pressing a series of numbers into a camoflaged keypad. A few seconds passed before a door clicked open, and you both quickly slipped inside, your relief was palpable as the heavy door sealed shut behind you.

The safe house was sparse, a relic from another life. Dust covered the surfaces, and the air was stale, but it was uncompromised. You motioned for him to sit while you searched for supplies, grabbing a first-aid kit from a cabinet in the corner.

"You're bleeding," he noted, his tone a mixture of surprise and concern.

You glanced down, You'd noticed the red seeping through your clothes in the car but chose to say anything knowing Charles would only grow concerned. But the adrenaline was fading, and the pain was creeping up. "I'll be fine. I've handled worse." You waved him off. 

He took the kit from your hands, his gaze dark. "Sit down." he ordered.

You relented, allowing him to tend to your deep but minor wound. You couldn't help but be reminded of the night that started it all, Charles's touch once harsh and uncaring now the opposite. 

His was careful and precise, and you found yourself studying him, the light furrow of his brows. You once hated him, seeing him as nothing more than an obstacle in her way. But now, as he focused intently on your wounds, you felt a strange warmth bloom in your chest, one you didn't dare acknowledge.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

He looked up, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Don't make this a habit." He joked. 

"You growing fond of me Leclerc?" You smirked. He stared at you, your gazes locking for a few seconds but he didn't answer. 

"We need to figure out who's behind this," he said finally, breaking the silence. "I might have a few contacts who might know something, but it's a gamble."

You nodded. "I might know some people to, it seems whoever is behind this knows I'm not dead so there's no point in trying to stay invisible anymore."

"Then we'll start there." His voice was steady, but his gaze lingered on you, searching. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I don't have a choice," you replied, your expression hardening. "Whoever did this won't stop until I'm dead. I have to face them head-on."

The determination in your voice was fierce, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. You were stronger than he'd ever accepted, and despite everything, he was glad to be by your side.

It took 3 days. You took turns sleeping making sure someone was always alert, when you were both away you worked together to plan your next steps, to find information. On the third day once it was finally getting dark you set your plan into motion. 

You were going to split up, each to contact your own sources, gathering whatever intel you could find. You had insisted it was safer this way, less chance of both of them being targeted at once, he had refuted, adamant on sticking together but you had somehow convinced him despite a part of you hating the idea of leaving his side. You agreed that maximum in a week from now you were to meet here again. 

If one of you didn't show up...it was clear what that meant. 

"Promise me you'll be careful," you said, surprising yourself with the fragility of your voice.

He gave you a reassuring nod, his hand taking yours in an action that had become familiar. "You too." his grip on your hand tightened. "We're going to get through this." he sighed as if also trying to convince himself of this. 

With one last glance, you parted ways. 

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling Into My Sins

chapter seven: grabbin’ at your skin

dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

summary: waking up the day after your date with tommy to a surprise in your kitchen…

word count: 3k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: pet names, little angst at the end, fingering, joel kinda being a menace idk

notes: it’s been awhile since i’ve updated this but… i finally had some motivation. i got kinda lazy with the mood board I apologize, also we’re just gonna pretend i didn’t throw a picture or rick grimes in there OKAY anyway… i wrote this while i was on a six hour flight and something just came over me, things are starting to get exciting so, enjoy & thanks for reading :)

It’s Saturday morning, the day after your date with Tommy. It went well, you know he’s really into you and you’re trying your best to give him a fair chance, but you know deep down a piece of you is still caught up on Joel.

Before you leave your room, you hear some movement downstairs and what sounds like your dad talking. His voice is muffled and you can’t quite make out what he’s saying as you straighten yourself up before walking downstairs, still wearing what you wore to bed last night. You shuffle down the stairs, holding onto the banister as you turn and start towards the kitchen. When your dad comes into view, he’s digging around in a drawer looking for something.

“Morning!” You call out as you get closer.

As you fully step into the kitchen, your heart leaps out of your chest. Joel is leaning over the kitchen counter, resting on his forearms as he watches your dad. You stop in your tracks, mouth falling open in surprise. His head snaps towards you, standing up straight and resting his palms on the counter, his expression doesn’t falter.

“Morning bud!” Your dad looks up from the drawer he’s digging in with a big smile. “In a good mood this morning, huh?” He focuses back on his search.

“Yeah…” you were in a good mood. You quickly pull your eyes away from Joel, noticing that one of his hands has gauze wrapped around it before looking away.

“Morning.” Joel says, his deep voice causing you to flinch.

You look back at him like a deer in headlights before snapping yourself out of it and giving him a small smile as you walk over to the coffee pot.

“Joel’s helping me fix up some of the loose boards in the back deck today, so we'll be outside for most of the afternoon.” Your dad says, drawing your attention back to him.

“Oh, okay.” You force a closed lip smile.

So Joel will be here practically all day, great. At least he’ll be outside for the most part, you think to yourself while you turn your focus back to grabbing a coffee mug from the cabinet.

“Shit, can’t find my box of nails anywhere.” Your dad stands with one arm crossed over his chest, tucked under his bicep as the the other scratches his cheek. “Gonna have to run to the store.”

“I can run across the street and grab some from my truck, no worries.” Joel says, pushing himself off the counter.

“No, no it’s alright. Gonna need some of my own eventually anyway.” Your dad lets out a sigh.

Your back is turned to the two men as you pour yourself a cup of coffee, pretending you’re not paying attention to a word they're saying.

“Well I’ll be quick, I guess you can get started setting up out back. Should only be gone for 15 minutes, maybe less.” Your dad grumbles.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll get set up.” Joel’s gruff voice sends a chill down your spine.

Your dads just going to leave you here with him? You hear your dad grab his keys from the basket on the counter and the sound of his boots nearing the front door. Then the sound of the door opening and shutting before the door locks.

He’s gone and you’re alone now, with Joel Miller.

You still haven’t turned around, grabbing a spoon from the drawer in front of you to stir some sugar into your coffee. As the silence grows, you’re very much aware now that you’re alone with Joel, and your body starts to heat up unsure of what to do. You reach for a packet of sugar, the crinkling of the paper filling the quiet room as you dump it into your mug.

Joel clears his throat. “How was last night?” He pauses for a moment and you freeze. “Your date with my little brother.”

Your stomach feels like it’s in a knot. “Good.” You blurt out, stirring your spoon vigorously as it clanks loudly against the mug.

From the corner of your eye, you see Joel start to walk from the other side of the island, slowly moving closer to you. You take a shaky breath, quickly spinning around to face him and leaning back against the counter, coffee mug forgotten behind you. He stops only a few feet in front of you and leans on the counter with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You notice the bandage on his left hand again.

“You’ve taken quite a liking to him, huh?” He raises his brow, waiting for you to respond.

“Yeah, I have actually.” It comes out more blunt than you intended as you cross your arms over your chest, mimicking his stance.

His jaw ticks when he hears your answer, dark eyes roaming over your form and you hope he can’t tell how nervous you actually are. You swallow back a lump in your throat, unable to read the expression on his face.

He nods his head slowly, eyes falling to the floor before speaking again. “More than me?” He glances up at you.

“What?” You huff, mouth growing dry as you process what he’s just asked you.

It feels like you just had the wind kicked out of you, chest tightening as you think of how to answer. There’s no way you could tell him the truth, what even was the truth? He takes a few steps closer to you, causing you to grab the edge of the counter behind you and brace yourself. Your chest grows tighter at the close proximity and you look down between the two of you, unable to look up into his eyes.

“Ya know, he tells me everything.” Your head snaps up and you laugh stiffly, dumbfounded by his remark as he looks back at you with a smug look.

“Yeah, I'm sure you do the same.” You spit back at him.

His expression grows serious. “Tell me.” He whispers, low and commanding.“Do you like my little brother more than me?”

You hesitate for a moment. If you lie he’ll see straight through you, but if you tell the truth, what will happen?

“I do.” You croak out, his eyes burning into you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you take in a breath as your eyes flicker to his mouth for a moment. He notices, of course, and a small smirk grows on his face. You've been wrapped around his finger since the night you met, weather you want to admit it or not, and no matter how hard you try to hide it, he knows.

“You sure about that?” His eyes trail down your body, landing on where your thighs are exposed in your sleep shorts.

“Mhm.” You nod your head rapidly.

“That’s a shame.” He says quietly. “You know,” he pauses for a moment like he’s thinking. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you the past few days. Wanted to show you that I’m willing to give us a real shot, tell you that I’m done playing games.” His eyes lock on yours again. “But I guess if you’re really serious about my brother….” He trails off.

You’re in shock at the words that just left his mouth. He can’t be serious. You lean as far back into the counter as possible as he slowly inches closer, your lips press tightly together as you try to keep your composure.

“Joel…” you vigorously shake your head at him, growing upset. “Don’t lie to me.” You breath out, voice trembling.

“I’m not lying sweetheart.” He grabs the edge of the counter behind you with his bandaged hand, caging you in as your bodies are only inches away now.

You look up at him, a heartbroken look on your face as your eyes look back and forth between his, trying to read him. It’s impossible for you to decide if he’s telling the truth or if this is just another one of his twisted mind games.

His good hand reaches up towards your face, hovering near your cheek as you turn your head the other way. You tilt your head to the floor as your eyes fall shut, letting out a breath as you battle with the logical part of your brain that’s telling you to walk away. When you look back up at him, he’s still staring at you with his hand frozen inches from your face. You give him a look, signaling him to go on.

He’s hesitant at first as he gently rests his large hand on your cheek. You shut your eyes and let out a shaky breath, tilting your head into his warm palm. His touch sparks something in you as heat begins to grow in the pit of your stomach. It’s been weeks since Joel last touched your skin, and it wasn’t anything like this. His hand trails down your arm leaving goosebumps along your skin as he rests both hands on the counter behind you now. Joel tilts his head down toward yours, shuffling closer. You tilt your head up, heat blooming in your chest, making its way up your neck as your hips involuntarily lift away from the counter slightly before returning to their place.

Joel notices your movement, eyes falling to your waist before lifting back up to your eyes. “What’s the matter?”

You just shake your head slightly, unable to form any words. Joel repostitions himself, moving even closer so his hips are almost flush against yours. The heat creeping up your chest and neck finds its way to your cheeks now, eyes darting away in embarrassment.

“Hm?” He leans in a bit closer, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing.” It’s barely a whisper.

You watch the way his shoulders rise and fall as he takes steady breaths. “So if i were to,” he trails off, his good hand moving to the hem of your shirt, calloused fingers slipping beneath it before resting his hand on the skin above the waistband of your shorts.

A chill runs down your spine and you flinch at the contact of his warm hand on your abdomen, only inches from your throbbing core. He slowly moves his hand further down underneath the band of your shorts, teasing you. The heat in your stomach is a steady burn now as your core throbs, growing wetter every second.

“If I were to feel you, right now, you wouldn’t be soaked for me?” His hand stops in it tracks.

You suck in a sharp breath. “No.” You shake your head again, trying to be as convincing as possible.

“Really?” His head tilts to the side, dark eyes looking right through you.

You nod in agreement as his hand slowly moves lower, sliding over the cotton fabric of your underwear, his large palm resting over your covered pussy. His hand rubs back and forth over the wet spot starting to form on them. Your eyes fall shut, a small sigh leaving your lips, and you curse yourself for the uncontrollable reaction your body has to him.

“Hm.” A cocky smirk covers his face now. He leans in, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek as he whispers lowly in your ear. “You can lie to me all you want, but your body will always tell the truth.”

He’s right and you both know it. He leans back, looking down at you once again with dark eyes. His hand finds your swollen clit through your underwear, rubbing slow circles with his thumb, causing you to moan as you jolt forward and grab onto the sides of his shirt.

Joel nudges his knee between your thighs, pressing his knee against the cabinets behind you so your legs stay parted. He continues to run slow circles over your swollen, clothed clit while he grabs your waist with his bandaged hand in an attempt to keep your hips still. His middle finger moves to the hem of your underwear between your thighs, sneaking under the fabric to find your soaking wet folds.

You gasp at the feeling of his calloused middle finger running through your wet, sensitive folds, hips pressing forward in an attempt to feel some relief. He stares down at you with heavy lidded eyes, watching the way your body reacts to his touch. Your mouth falls open when the tip of his finger catches on your hole, teasing for a moment before he slowly inserts his finger. You grasp onto his shirt tighter, his bandaged hand snaking around your waist to hold you closer to him, large hand resting on your back beneath your shirt. As he slowly pulls his finger out of you, he adds another before pressing back into your cunt in one fluid motion.

“Joel…” it comes out as a low whine.

He grunts, continuing to slowly pump his fingers into you. “Fuck, missed hearing my name from those pretty lips.”

You moan at his words, moving your hands to wrap around his biceps. His thumb slips beneath your underwear now, finding its way to your sensitive nub and moving in slow circles as he continues to pump his fingers into your soaking core.

“Say it again baby.” He doesn’t have to ask twice.

“Joel,” your mouth slightly parts. “Feels so good, need you.” You sigh, bucking your hips forward.

“I told you what you have to do.” He becomes a little more serious. “Tell him it’s over and I’m all yours.”

You let out another soft moan as you squeeze his arms, nodding your head, unable to form any words. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter with each thrust of his fingers and you’re not sure how much more you’ll be able to take. Your hands move up his arms, over his broad shoulders, wrapping around his neck in an attempt to keep yourself upright.

Joel holds you closer to him, tightening his arm around your back. “He could never make you feel this good.” You see the way his jaw is clenched, something burning behind his eyes as he says those words. Jealousy? You don’t think you’ll ever find out.

“Joel,” you’re breathless as you lightly tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. “I only want you.” Your words are the truth, and he knows it.

He lets out a low growl as he starts to quicken his pace, holding you as close as he can. His hips press into you and you feel his hard cock rub against you through his jeans. You feel yourself nearing the edge as he leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, pace never faltering. The thought of him getting hard from just touching you fueling your climax.

“Come for me baby,” he whispers. “your dads gonna be home any minute. Don’t want him to see us like this now do you?”

You just shake your head in response, not able to form any words in this moment.

“That’s what I thought, pretty girl.” His thumb starts to circle faster around your clit, and in any second the coil in your stomach is going to snap.

He finally presses his lips against yours and kisses you for the first time in weeks. Your eyes fall shut and you sigh as his soft lips move against yours in desperation, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The combination of the kiss, the filthy sound of him pumping in and out of your soaked cunt, and the way he’s pressing his jean clad cock against your thigh sends you over the edge, your orgasm coursing through you. You moan into his mouth, pulling at his curls, legs beginning to feel weak as you ride through your climax.

Joel pulls his lips away so he can get a look at you, his arm wrapping tighter around your back, holding you up as he slows down his pace. He watches as your eyes slowly flutter open, pure bliss on your face as you come down from the high. You gasp as he pulls his fingers away, an emptiness taking their place. He slowly moves his hand from your back, pausing to rest on your hip as he pulls his other hand out of your underwear and you steady yourself on the counter.

He sighs, taking a step back and readjusting himself in his pants as you try to catch your breath. As you stand there waiting for his next move, your eyes roam his form. The way his shirt pulls slightly at his shoulders and biceps, then your eyes fall back to his bandaged hand as he messes with the button of his jeans.

“What happened?” You say softly, looking up at him.

“Cut my hand.” He looks down at you as he answers.

“How?” Your brows furrow as you look back down at the bandage.

He’s quiet for a moment. “You should go get cleaned up, before your dads back.” He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair as he turns away from you.

Joel rests one hand on the counter, his hip jutted out as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. You stare at his back as he looks towards the floor, brows furrowed and eyes burning through him. Your thoughts start racing, what did you honestly think was going to happen? Of course he’s going to go right back to being distant with you again, and now you just look stupid for falling for it.

A lump begins to grow in your throat as tears begin to sting your eyes. “Right.” Your voice slightly breaks as you move to rush past him.

“Hey,” he reaches out to grab your wrist before you can get too far, spinning you around to face him. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

You just look back at him with wide eyes, nodding your head before turning back around to head towards your room, hot tears running down your cheeks as you rush up the stairs. When your door shuts, you cover your mouth with your hands and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears. After a moment you take a deep breath, hands wiping your wet cheeks.

“Get it together.” You whisper to yourself.

Joel said you would talk later, and you want to believe him. All you can do is wait until then. You walk towards your window, taking another shaky breath as you see your dads car pull into the driveway.

thank you so much for reading!! i decided not to do a tag list anymore so…. sorry!! hope y’all enjoyed <3

[rogueddie]

Issues T | 608 words Prompt for steddielovemonth: Love is being able to say you're sorry and mean it

"No, that's enough!" Eddie yells, slamming his hands onto the table with a deafening thud. "I'm fucking sick of this!"

"You're sick of this?" Steve echoes, upper lip curling with disgust. "How the hell do you think I feel?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? It's not like you ever talk to me about anything!"

"Don't pretend you suddenly care now!"

"Jesus Christ, I've always cared! You're the one too fucking focused on your ego to notice what anyone else is going through!"

"That's a joke. You've never been there when Dustin needs you to sit with-"

"He doesn't need me! He's never asked for me! He needs you because you're the one that makes him feel safe!"

"He needs you too! We almost lost you and Dustin had to-"

"I know! We've already-"

"He still has nightmares about it!"

"Oh for- whatever. Dustin still needs support, got it. You do too!"

"This is stupid, you're stupid."

"That- what are you doing?"

"Leaving. I'm gonna stay with Robin for the night."

"Seriously?!"

Steve doesn't reply. He grabs the small bag that he's thrown a change of clothes into, grabbing his shoes and keys, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Eddie gawps at the empty doorway for a minute, only moving to follow when he hears the beemer roar to life.

"Steve!" He tries.

But Steve ignores him, barely sparing him a glance, pulling out and driving away.

"What the fuck," Eddie whispers to himself, reluctantly going back inside.

He knows too well how much worse an argument can get if he tries to follow Steve on the rare occasion that he needs to leave.

But he also expects Steve to be back in the morning, either with his tail between his legs or demanding an apology.

He does neither. He doesn't come back in the morning.

Or the afternoon.

Or the evening.

The sun has long since set by the time Eddie parks on the street outside the Buckley household.

"Eddie," Robins mom greets warmly.

"Hey, uh... is Steve here?"

"Yes, he stayed the night, they're just up in Robbie's room."

"Could, uh... could you tell them I'm here?"

"You can go up, dear, it's no worries."

"I know, it's... uh..."

"ah," she smiles knowingly, patting his shoulder. "Alright. I'll go let them know. He'll be down in a moment."

"Thank you."

Waiting in the cold, on the porch, is horrifying.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long before the door opens again and Steve steps out, looking awkward and sheepish.

He shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms, looking anywhere except at him.

"I'm sorry," Eddie finally chokes out. "I didn't mean to push, I really am just... I'm worried about you. It scares me sometimes but I shouldn't have lashed out at you because of that."

Steve stares at him for a moment, face blank, before he frowns. Confused, he says, "what?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, I heard, it... you aren't the one who should be apologising."

"I pushed you when I should have-"

"No, Ed, you were trying to take care of me and I-"

"Steve, stop it. I wasn't listening to you. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, really. It's not like I was trying to have a conversation or something. I just got..."

"Scared?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that. But, like... if you ever do need help with any of that, I'm right here. I want to help."

"When I'm ready."

"When you're ready."

"Ok. Thank you, Eds. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have started yelling at you like that."

"It's ok. We'll work through it."