#me sitting all smugly on a chair while watch my lawn grow

[ghostbsuter]

"SHIT!" Jumping 5 feet into the air, Danny scrambled away from the bat costume wearing man, hair on every body part standing, and he's hissing like a feral cat.

"Can you not! I could have died from fright!" He complains, glaring.

Batman doesn't take the complaint to heart, instead focusing on him.

"Why are you here? This is a goverment funded stronghold, you aren't supposed to be here. Leave for your own safety."

Danny's shoulders drop, and he rolls his eyes. "Relax, bat guy, I'm here for something. Different reasons."

Batman doesn't take that and instead turns to his comm. "Red Robin, Nightwing, positions?"

"Close, B, just left RR to the monitors. ETA 5 mins."

He turns back to the boy.

"You want to come along?" Said boy asks after the moment of silence, idly fiddling eith his fingers.

Batman took note of that.

"Once my partner arrives, you'll be escorted out—"

"Yeah no, I'm not leaving."

[skullrock]

the swimsuit - Steve x Reader

Pairing: Steve x Reader

request: heeeey! so i was thinking about steve calling phoebe cates hot and him running into that cardboard of her, so, can you write something where steve is at a pool party and he sees reader coming out of the pool and walking up to him in a red bikini like in fast times and he’s totally heart eyes. so they end up making out in the bathroom next to the pool. thanks!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: steamy! and swearing

a/n: feeling HOT 

===

Steve hasn’t used his pool since Barb died Junior year. So when Dustin wants to go swimming, he takes him to the community pool.

It’s gross, and people almost certainly pee in it, but it’s something to do on a hot summer day, and there are plenty of women to look at and flirt with.

“You’re pathetic,” Dustin says beside him, lounging on a lawn chair.

“I’m pathetic?” Steve scoffs. “Why?”

“You’re trying to find a girlfriend at a public pool.”

“Yeah? Yeah, and you found a girlfriend at a camp no one has ever heard of. Shut it, pipsqueak.”

Dustin scrunches his face up in offense. “For your information, Steven, my girlfriend is –“

Steve slams his hands down on the arm rests of the chair he’s in. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates. I get it, Dustin, Jesus. But here’s the thing, buddy: there’s no girl in real life that’s hotter than Phoebe Cates. You hear me? There is no girl that is –“

You step out of the pool directly in front of Steve. You’re wearing a red bikini and your hair is slicked back on your head from the water. Steve’s breath hitches in his throat and his face turns red just at the sight of you, matching your swimsuit. You lock eyes and it’s your turn to blush now, looking down at the concrete as you hurry off to your chair for a towel. Steve watches you, doing that cliché thing where he pulls his sunglasses off as he watches you go.

“There’s no girl that’s hotter than Phoebe Cates, right?” Dustin says smugly beside Steve.

Steve can’t reply – he’s too entranced. He watches you, eyes maybe a bit too keen on your ass, as you dry yourself off. He cannot comprehend how someone as gorgeous as you is in Hawkins, Indiana. He continues to stare as you lounge in the sun, completely ignoring Dustin talking to him about who knows what. Some stupid science stuff, probably.

You make eye contact with him again and you bite your lip – why is this cute boy looking at you like that? You look away, eyes directed towards the locker rooms, and you look back at Steve. He looks towards the locker room, too, and he furrows his brows in confusion. You jerk your head towards them and stand up, walking in their direction. Steve stumbles off of his chair quickly and nearly runs towards you.

“Hey!” Dustin shouts. “Where are you going?”

“Uh,” Steve says, drawing it out as he racks his brain for an excuse. “I’m – bathroom.”

Dustin scrunches his face up again but rolls his eyes at Steve and pulls out a comic book.

Steve rushes to the locker rooms, sandals slipping slightly on water. He composes himself as he struts in, shoulders back, posture poised. He doesn’t want to seem too needy and desperate – although that’s exactly what he is. He finds you in a corner by the showers and he approaches, giving a signature lopsided grin.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” he says, leaning up against the tile.

“I’m from the town over,” you explain, looking him up and down, soaking in his broad chest and toned arms. “But our town pool is closed.”

“Needed a swim that bad, huh?”

“I was feeling a little… hot.”

Steve falters at the phrase, eyes widening and knees buckling. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair, and your eyes fix on it. He’s cute. He’s handsome. He’s hot. He’s sexy.

“But, as it would turn out,” you sigh, “I’m still feeling pretty hot.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks lowly, licking his lips again. “And why’s that?”

Your eyes fall to his trunks, his bulge prominent under the thin fabric, and his train on your bikini top, enjoying the cleavage. You bite your lip and look up at him, locking eyes. “Because a guy like you shouldn’t be allowed to wear trunks like that.”

Steve groans and then his mouth is on yours in an instant. Your back is pushed up against the wall and you kiss back roughly, hands winding up through his hair. Steve’s hands fly to your ass and he grips it tightly, making you laugh slightly. It’s teeth and tongue, sloppy and rushed, but it’s thrilling and makes you way too hot for a summer day. Your head spins and you grip onto him tighter, pressing back firmly into the wall now, and Steve wraps one of your legs around his waist. He pushes himself against you and you both groan. You circle your hips and grind on Steve, making him gasp. His hips sputter against yours and you feel his hard-on right on your core. It makes you moan loudly, and it spurs him on – he does it again and you swear you can see stars.

You both hear someone come in and he pushes himself off of you, a hand flying down to cover his hard on up while you both stand and pretend to talk. Your eyes sparkle with mischief and Steve smirks, the tips of his ears pink.

“Do you always seduce men into locker rooms to kiss them?” he teases.

“Only the cute ones,” you reply, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You glance behind him and watch the intruder leave once again before pulling Steve to you, kissing again. His hands go back to your ass and he feels you up, making your breath catch. His lips go to your neck and your eyes roll back, a smile growing on your face.

“What’s your name?” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he sucks on a sweet spot.

“Steve,” he says into your skin. “Yours?”

“Y/N.”

“Had me fooled,” he says, kissing back up to your lips. “Thought you were Phoebe Cates for a second.”

“Oh, I’m not that hot,” you laugh.

Steve cocks a brow, challenging your assumption. He presses his hard-on against you again with a wicked smile. “I beg to differ.”

You push him backwards so that he’s sitting on a bench and you straddle him, resuming your makeout. You grind down on him, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths at the friction. Steve can’t believe his luck, truthfully – it’s been a minute since he snuck away with a girl to fool around. You can’t believe yours, either – a man as charming and as cute as this sitting beneath you, hands cupping your ass and you glide back and forth – it nearly too much to handle.

“Are you okay?” he asks suddenly, stilling your movements with his hands on your hips. “Like, this is okay, right?”

The ask of consent makes you even more turned on and you nod furiously, curling a strand of his hair. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay,” he replies, bucking his hips up, making you gasp. “Do you maybe – like, if you want – maybe we can – go somewhere? To… finish this?”

You giggle and nod. “Meet me here tomorrow evening – seven? And we can go somewhere to… finish.”

He nods furiously and you kiss a while more, caressing each other, you hopping off when someone would come in as Steve covered himself with cupped hands. Eventually he decides he needs to go before Dustin tells the group that he had sex in the locker room – which isn’t necessarily wrong, but it’s not true, either.

“Gotta go,” he breathes, kissing all over your face before planting one more on your lips. “I came with my friend – I mean, this kid I babysit – and I need to take him home.”

You smirk but let him up anyway, and he takes a moment to gather himself, cheeks puffed out as he smiles dorkily at you. You furrow your brows and grab his hand. “You can be a dork, you know. You’re allowed.”

He scoffs. “I’m not a –“

“Dorky guys who lean into it are really hot, Steve.”

Steve’s brows raise. “You mean it?”

You nod.

“Consider me sexy, then,” he says, and shoots finger guns. “Because I’m the dorkiest bastard alive.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Tomorrow at seven.”

Steve walks back to Dustin with a spring in his step, which immediately deflates as Dustin turns to him, pupils flaring. “You were gone for forty-five minutes, man!”

Steve freezes. “I had to pee.”

“With her?” he asks, pointing towards you, packing up your things. “What, did you need her to hold your hand or something?”

“Alright!” Steve says, shaking his head. “You tell anyone, you’re dead.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you admit that there are people out there who are hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

Steve sighs heavily, glancing over at you with a faint smile. “Okay. There are definitely people out there hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

===

taglist: @harrington-ofhawkins​ @comedy-witch​ @harringtonisadingus​ @sassisaluxury​ @gothackedalready​ @willowrose99​ @pxtrickhxckstettxr​ @wolfish-willow​ @harringtown​ @m-blasterrr​ @anerroroccurrrrred​​ @marvels-gurl​ @the-almond-dinger​ @ssanjuniperoo​ @darth-el​ @sourapplebaby​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ 

[dmitri-writes]

Voice~Intrulogical

INFO -trans guy logan -side royality -familial analogical -based on a prompt i saw somewhere

TRIGGER WARNINGS -

***

Remus opens his laptop and checks a group chat for his friends, adequately named 'No Braincells Here'. He grins, seeing green dots next to all four of his friends and his brother; PappyPatton, AnxietyAttack, JekyllHyde, SpaceJam, and PositivelyPrincely. He turns on his mic, excited to wreak havoc as always and annoy his brother.

JeffreyDahmer: "What's up bitches one, two, three, four, and five."

The chat is filled with four voices; Roman groans, Virgil laughs, Patton says to watch his language, and Deceit says "Goodbye" and leaves, logging right back on. Remus also reads the texts sent by the only one never on voice chat, SpaceJam.

SpaceJam: Hello, Remus. I was starting to wonder where you were.

Remus smile grows, pleasantly surprised someone actually expects and wants him to be there. "Thanks, Space," He says through voice chat.

PappyPatton: "Now that Remus is here, we can talk about The Thing (TM)." PositivelyPrincely: "What is it this time Padre? Are you in need of spider killing? I'll run to your house now." PappyPatton: "No, Roman, It's- and he's gone..."

Remus hears his brother in the other room rummaging around for his sword. He doesn't stop him as he races out the door.

PappyPatton: "Remus, did he leave?" JeffreyDahmer: "Yeah." AnxietyAttack: "At least he's not knocking down my door this time." SpaceJam: Should we wait until he's back? PappyPatton: "I hear him knocking on my door... Be right back." SpaceJam: Does this happen often? Virgil, you didn't tell me you moved close to Roman and Remus.

Remus smiles, heart a little fluttery Space didn't just say Roman. It feels great to not be forgotten for once. Space always remembered him. Always.

AnxietyAttack: "Yeah, Patton is scared of spiders and since I own a few, Roman sometimes thinks they're mine and makes me check that they're all there and not fakes they replaced themselves with."

Remus' smile turns into a mischevious grin, knowing he caused the scene. He told Roman about Virgil's spiders, which he knew about since kindergarten. He also sometimes loosens their cages or catches wild spiders to put on Patton's lawn.

SpaceJam: Seems... Interesting. PappyPatton: "Okay Roman's next to me so I'm just gonna talk about it with him here, sorry for stealing your brother Remus." JeffreyDahmer: "Keep him." JekyllHyde: "I can't wait to hear what Patton has to say." PappyPatton: "What I was saying is... I got a boyfriend!" AnxietyAttack: "It's Roman, isn't it?" PappyPatton: "Yeah it's Roman." SpaceJam: Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us, Patton. SpaceJam: If it is alright, I would like to follow that up with my own announcement.

Remus' interest is piqued. Is Space going to announce their name? Gender? Sexuality? Romantic life? He's bouncing in his chair with excitement.

PappyPatton: "Go ahead Space!" SpaceJam: I am moving in with Virgil, now that his parents have formally adopted me. JekyllHyde: "ADOPTED?" JeffreyDahmer: "MOVING?" SpaceJam: Perhaps I should tell you more... PappyPatton: PLEASE -Roman

That was... NOT what Remus was expecting... but he's still excited! Space! Moving! Here! Okay, Remus needs to calm down before he falls out of his chair again.

SpaceJam: My name is Logan. I am a trans male and my parents were not too happy about it. While Virgil lived near me, he became worried about me. Once he knew of my situation, he told his parents, who have been fighting to adopt me. It has been finalized today, and I am currently packing.

Remus' head spins with the new information as he also hears Roman enter the house again. His bedroom door opens and Roman peeks his head in. "Good, you're still alive. You should take a shower since Space- er, Logan, is moving here." Remus absent-mindedly throws a pencil at his brother who dodges it and laughs.

JekyllHyde: "How are you getting here?" SpaceJam: I will be taking a plane. I'm very excited, planes are fascinating and I have wished to be on one. I do prefer spaceships though. PappyPatton: "Uh, Logan, I'd hate to push it so ignore me if you aren't comfortable with it but... could we hear your voice?" JeykllHyde: "Oh I would hate that." JeffreyDahmer: "Oh yes!" AnxietyAttack: "Guys shut the fuck up! It's stressful for him!" AnxietyAttack: "Logan if you don't want to its okay."

Remus watches the screen intently, glaring holes into to speaker icon next to Logan's username. He fills with delight as it's activated.

SpaceJam: "I-it's alright, I'm just... a bit nervous."

Remus accidentally slams his keyboard as he falls out of his chair, speaker locked on. He manages to get up and walks to the other side of his room, "HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK I AM IN LOVE!" Remus hears Roman's voice from the speakers and through the wall, "This dumbass fell out of his chair!" "Fuck off Roman I'm having a moment here!" Remus' face heats up as Logan's voice follows, "Remus are you hurt?" Why is Logan so nice? Remus can't handle this. "I'm alright Logan." After a few hours of bullshitting on chat and Remus freaking out over Logan, Logan advises all of them to go to bed. "I'm going to the airport now, if you get to sleep then you could see me as I arrive at Virgil's house." Remus happily replies, "Good night then, I want to be the first to get a look at you." He logs off and goes to read on his bed, knowing the excitement and his insomnia wouldn't allow him to sleep.

Remus is the first at Virgil's house in the morning and Virgil's mom offers to let him come with them, to which he happily and smugly agrees. He texts the chat smugly, excited to see Roman's reaction.

JeffreyDahmer: losers im going to the airport with virgil im gonna see logan first positivelyPrincely: OH THATS CHEATING YOU DIDNT EVEN SLEEP JeffreyDahmer: how was i supposed to? insomnia AND cute boy in the morning?

Remus waits by the gate with Virgil, who holds a sign reading 'Logan' in blue marker. Remus grins and asks Virgil to add something. Virgil rolls his eyes, "What do you want me to add?" "Space cutie!" Virgil laughs and lets Remus write it on underneath with a green marker. After a few minutes of waiting, Virgil points out a figure. He's wearing a blue tie over a black polo tucked into black jeans. He's pulling behind him two galaxy-themed suitcases. Virgil waves for his attention and gets it, sign being read. His face heats up and he walks over. "Lolo, so good to see you!" Virgil's mother hugs him, then Virgil does too, "I missed you L." Once freed from the hug, Logan looks over at Remus and gives a small smile, "Remus, right?" Remus' face lights up and he bounces on his feet, "How'd you know Spacey?" Logan laughs a bit, "You look exactly as I thought you would."

Virgil groans, "You two can flirt later. Let's go home so the others can meet you too." Logan and Remus talk on the way back to the car, keeping it more PG in front of Virgil's- and now Logan's- mom. As soon as the car pulls into the driveway, Roman and Patton run up to the car. Dee follows slowly behind. Logan goes to greet them all with a wave but Patton tackles him in a hug. "Oh, uh, hello Patton." Patton lets go of Logan so Roman can sling an arm over Logan's shoulder, "You're more handsome than I thought pocket protector. Still not a match for my princely charm, however." "Ah. You must be Roman." Dee walks up closer, "I know, Roman is so charming." Logan laughs a bit, "Good to see you, Dee." Dee breaks after a moment and gives Logan a hug while smiling." Virgil's mom gently tells them that Logan needs to unpack and the others groan but say goodbye and leave for their houses.

Remus goes to his room and sits in front of his computer, bouncing his leg as he stares at Logan's icon. After a few minutes, there is a ding, notifying a message and Remus smiles as he sees it's a private message from Logan.

SpaceJam: Remus, I am still packing but I wanted to ask you something before I 'chickened out' as Virgil says. SpaceJam: Would you like to accompany me to a museum of forensic anthropology?

Remus slides out of his chair and onto the floor, creating a small thump. Roman peeks his head into the room, "What happened? Did Logan say your name or something?" Remus points at the screen and Roman reads the messages, the nudges Remus with his foot, "Say yes you disaster! He's asking you on a date!" Remus lightly kicks Roman's leg, "Yeah, I know that!" He gets back up and types out a response but stares at it instead of pressing send. Roman sighs and hits send then goes back to what he was doing, leaving Remus to metaphorically die.

JeffreyDahmer: abso-fucking-lutely

[mostfacinorous]

Stoki Whumptober Day 16: A Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15]  

When Loki woke, he was stretched out on the floor, and he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing before this.

More pressingly, he didn’t know any of the faces peering down at him. 

“So, did it work?” Asked the dirtiest looking of the three. 

“Are you alright?” Asked the fair haired one, shooting the other a fondly reproachful glare. 

The one with the foppishly shaped facial hair frowned. 

“What the hell happened, there, shimmers?” 

Loki blinked and frowned. 

“Do I… know you?” He asked slowly, reaching up to grasp his aching temple as he sat up. He took the opportunity to look around, and it did not help him to determine where he was at all. 

A faint sense of wrong began to make itself known as the three men traded looks. 

Loki got to his feet and swayed a little as he registered that he was a good deal further… up… than he was used to being. 

“Where have you taken me? And what have you done to me? Wha--” He reached up to touch his throat. 

His voice had deepened. He was taller. Had they-- had they stolen years from him?

“How-- how many?” He asked, voice shaking appallingly. He felt close to tears, and the three men looked confused. 

“Hey, Loki…” The blonde one spoke again, and Loki registered how odd it was that he seemed adult, and yet his face was clean. He reached up to touch his own chin, and was disappointed to find he was similarly clean shaven. 

“What do you remember?” The most bearded of them asked. 

Loki tried to focus on the question, tried to cut through the panic he felt that threatened to overwhelm him. 

“I…” He began, and then stopped. He could tell there were a great many memories, but they seemed out of reach. 

The dirty one thrust a metal arm forward, and Loki sprang back, ungainly on his too long legs and forced to flail his arms wildly to regain his balance. 

“Did you get it all out?” the man seemed to be growling more than speaking. 

Loki shook his head and continued backing away, unsure where he was or who they were or what they wanted. He just wanted to go home. 

He spun on his heel and took off at a run, out the first doors he saw and across a green lawn. 

“Heimdallllllll!” He called, only hoping he could outpace them long enough for the gatekeeper to send help or bring him back. He wondered where Thor was, their guards, their tutors, wondered how these men had gotten him away… 

And then he was sprawling face forward into the turf, arms wrapped around his middle and pulling him down. He kicked and thrashed, well aware that he was outmatched as always when it came to wrestling, but unwilling to be taken back without a fight. 

“LokI!” Grunted the blonde one, and Loki found himself pinned down. 

“What do you want of me? Do you think my father won’t have your heads for this?” He demanded. 

“Loki, something went wrong with the time stone. Do you remember trying to pull the power out of Bucky’s arm?”

Loki stilled, unspilled tears filling the edges of his vision. 

“Timestone?” He repeated, sensing at least some answers. 

“Yeah, the… the time stone, Bucky had it in his arm, and it left some power behind. You were trying to pull it out and you fell down. Does any of this sound familiar?” The man let go of his wrists and sat up as the other two arrived behind him. 

Loki shook his head. 

“This is going to sound dumb as hell…” the dirty one muttered, then cleared his throat. “Loki, how old are you?” 

The facial hair one looked sharply at the arm guy. Bucky. 

“Are you saying--?” 

“Four Hundred, eighty-nine.” Loki said firmly. 

They all stared, then the light haired man shook his head and stood, offering his hand to Loki to help him up. 

“I don’t know how old you were when we started, so I have no idea what that means.” He spoke softly, as if trying not to scare Loki any further. 

“So we’re buying this?” The bearded one asked, sounding incredulous. “Need I remind you this is Loki? He could be acting.” 

“What good would that do?” Barnes asked. “What possible benefit would this give him?” 

“It’d get your guards down, for one. Make you defensive of him for another.” Loki was really starting to dislike the man with the beard. But he took the blonde’s hand and stood, just the same, crossing his arms over himself protectively. 

“I uh-- want to know where we are.” He asked, this time more of a request, his voice quieter. 

“Northern New York.” The beard guy said. 

“Uh, Earth. Midgard.” The blonde filled in, somewhat more helpfully. 

That, at least, made some sense to Loki, and he looked around, stunned. 

“This is-- but, I was just on Midgard, and it was so…” He gestured, trying to find the right words, something less rude than the few that sprang to mind. 

“I think, if we’re guessing right, you’re actually much older than you remember being. So yeah, we’re not as um. Primitive? As you probably remember.” 

Loki nodded mutely. 

“Can we go back inside, sit down, and talk about this?” The kind man asked. The other two looked between themselves, and Loki found himself stepping closer to the light haired one, unsure what such glances meant. 

“Who are you?” He asked, instead of answering, and was mildly alarmed when the kind one reached up and knocked himself on the head. 

“Of course, sorry-- I’m Steve, this is Bucky--” He gestured at the dirty one with the armoured arm, and then at the other, “And this is Tony. We’re uh-- we were working with you before your accident.” 

Not, Loki noticed, ‘friends’. But then, why should he have hoped that his elder self had any better luck on the front? 

“Alright.” Loki said, then swept his hand forward. “Lead the way. I will come with you.” 

It wasn’t until just that moment that he wondered why Heimdall hadn’t answered him. Had something happened to Asgard? To Thor? His mother and father? Their people? 

He bit his lip against more questions, and let Steve lead him back into the building he’d made his escape from. 

They got him seated on a chair that was considerably plusher than the last Midgardian seat he’d experienced, the dirty-- Bucky-- had pushed a warm cup of tea into his hands, and they had waited for him to take a few sips before they began talking. 

“Do you know how old you are in relative Midgardian years?” Tony asked, and Loki made a face. 

“Not off the top of my head. How old do you grow to be?” 

Tony stared for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Let’s say a hundred, just to make it nice and round.”

Loki looked down and away. 

“Ah, I’m sorry.” He said softly. 

The other three looked between themselves, and he wondered if they understood how short their lives were, truly. 

“Asgardians may expect to reach five thousand years.” Loki explained, speaking gently. 

Tony let out a low whistle, then did a double take. “So you’re-- what, ten? Roundabouts?”

“I’m four hundred, eighty-nine.” Loki repeated, a touch defensively. 

“You’re a child.” Bucky responded, more forcefully, leveling a look in Tony’s direction. 

Loki had had enough of that instantly.

“I am a prince!” He insisted, standing while careful not to spill his tea. “And I’ll have you know I am already a magician. Which is more than any of you can say!”

He saw a smile grace Steve’s face, and felt a small warmth high up in his chest from it. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you think you could figure out how to get back to being an adult?” 

Loki chewed on his lower lip while he thought, then shook his head. 

“Not on my own. My mother will know what to do, though. I just need to reach her. Uh… speaking of…” He trailed off, afraid to ask. “Earlier I called for Heimdall, and he didn’t answer. Do you know… why that might be?” 

Another exchange of glances, this time between Tony and Steve. Loki hated that his body was apparently grown, and still he was being treated like a yearling. 

“You uh, might want to sit down your highness.” Tony said, and Loki felt his stomach drop, but he did as he was told. 

“First off-- I’m real sorry Loki, but according to Thor, your mom died a few years ago.” 

Loki felt his mouth fall open, but he couldn’t begin to name the sound that came out. 

“And Heimdall?” He asked at length, followed by, “My father? Where is Thor?”

“I uh, don’t think you’re on good terms with Asgard.” Tony said, as delicately as he could. 

Loki swallowed. 

“And Thor?” Thor wasn’t Asgard-- surely whatever he’d done, Thor, at least, would-- 

“Thor’s king now.” 

This time, Loki couldn’t stop the tears from coming to his eyes. 

“Thor banished me?” Loki felt so betrayed, so lost and alone, of a sudden. 

“No, I think that was on your dad.” Tony said, as if that were any consolation. 

“But  I can’t go h-home?” 

“Tony!” Steve warned, and Tony shut his mouth, obviously thinking better of whatever he had been about to say. “That’s probably enough for now, Loki. I’m sorry, I can tell this has all been a shock. Tony, are there rooms here? Loki probably could use some time to himself.” 

“Some time…” Loki murmured, then snapped. 

“Time! Which of you has the time stone?” 

“Annnd there it is.” Tony said, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair smugly. 

“What?” Loki asked, watching as again, Adult Glances were traded. “Did I say something wrong? It’s just-- I can maybe make this right. I have to learn how to use the time stone. Then we can go back, save my mother, get her to help make me big again--” Loki could feel his spirits rising, some hope restored. They had the means to make everything right. He’d just have to apply himself to it, something his teachers said he was marvellous at, when he cared to try. 

“Woah there, hold up.” Bucky raised his hands. 

“Older you said that we had to be careful-- no long jumps, no frequent jumps. Going back like that could tear up… the fabric of time? I think?” Bucky looked to Steve for confirmation, and he nodded. 

“And even with a healthy fear of the thing, you ended up getting turned into a kid again--”

“Supposing he really is a kid again.” Tony interjected, and Steve gestured at Loki’s face. 

“I guarantee, you never saw him make any of those expressions as an adult. Now shush, Tony.” 

Loki wondered what expressions he did make, if not these, but let that one go. 

“I’m not afraid of the time stone.” He insisted, jutting his jaw out stubbornly. 

Steve just sighed and ran his hand up his forehead and back through his hair. 

“Yeah, Loki, I know. That’s the problem. Look, let’s-- why don’t I set you up in a room, you can just relax for a minute while we figure out what our next steps are. Okay?” 

“You aren’t my boss. I outrank you.” Loki insisted. 

“Not on Earth you don’t.” Bucky countered calmly. “Now come on. We’re gonna get you a room, you have a nap, we’ll reconvene when you wake up, okay, your highness?” 

Loki firmed his jaw, but didn’t protest any more, because he was pretty sure they would only call him childish if he did. 

He let them lead him down a hall and to a room, then duplicated himself while their backs were turned and made the real him invisible, letting them lock an illusory version of himself in the room. 

It was the first full look he got at his own adult face, and he was so shocked that he forgot to pay attention, and he almost let Steve walk into him. He got out of the way quickly, and let them go wherever they were headed, taking a moment to study himself. 

He wasn’t sure how much older he was but… it didn’t look as if the years had been kind. 

He looked tired, and thin. He had the fading signs of a bruise across his face, and small scars… but more than anything, he looked… oddly haunted. 

He wondered what had happened between himself and Asgard, wondered if that might be the cause, and decided to find the other men to see what he could learn. 

It wasn’t hard to track them, all things considered. They were not quiet. 

“--seems pretty legitimate to me, Tony. Have you ever seen him cry before?” Steve was saying as he approached, silently as his much practiced sneaking could be. 

“You think he can’t cry on cue to get what he wants? He’s trying to get us to let him have the stone, same as before, only this time with an ‘I’m so innocent, look at me, I never invaded anyone’ mask over the whole thing, just to make you more willing to part with it.” 

An invasion? Well, he supposed that would explain some of the hardship on his face. He’d never really seen himself as a general, but if life led him there, well, he would take it. 

“You think his first thought of a cover story would be ‘we should bring back my mom to help me out’ if he wasn’t a kid?” Bucky asked, and he saw Steve look at him gratefully. “Anyway,” Bucky continued, “this isn’t an ‘us’ thing. I have the stone, it’s my call. And I’m sorry, Stevie, but much as I do believe his brain might have gotten zapped back to baby, that doesn’t make me more confident in his ability to use it, and not make things somehow worse.” 

“Okay, fair, but what else do we have, options wise? Do we take him to Strange?” Loki wondered who that was, but Strange was clearly an unfavorable option; Bucky dismissed that with a single sharp jerk of his head.

“Well, what about Thor?” Tony asked. “If anyone can tell if he’s faking, it’d be Thor. And maybe he’s got someone there who knows what we’re dealing with.” 

Loki drew his breath in, the sound sharp enough to apparently alert Steve and Bucky to his presence. 

“Damn it, Tony!” Steve said, even as Bucky reached out and caught him blindly, the contact dispelling Loki’s invisibility.

“I want to see Thor. If you can call him, do it. I want my brother.” Loki pointed at the floor and stomped, an order turned halfway into the threat of a fit. 

“I don’t know, is that a good idea, you think?” Steve asked. “Loki, I don’t know how to explain-- he might not be happy to see you.” 

This was unfathomable to Loki, and he felt his eyes beginning to water again. “Then I’ll fix it! Whatever I did, I can make it right. But I need Thor here to make that happen, to help me put everything back the way it’s supposed to be. Please?” 

Loki was not, he realized, above begging. His whole world was lost to him now, his home, mother-- dead? --it seemed impossible. Heimdall wouldn’t answer his calls, and these men treated him like some combination weapon to be feared and child to pity, and he just wanted to understand, and fix things, and bury himself in the arms of his family. 

They hadn’t even told him what had come of his father, he realized. 

“Please, call my brother. I just want to go home!” The last word came out a wail. 

“Hoo boy.” Tony said, standing and edging his way out of the room. 

Steve came forward and wrapped Loki in a hug, and as he sniffled into Steve’s shirt, he heard Bucky saying what he’d hoped to hear. “Go on, call the guy’s brother. Like you said, if anyone can sort this out…” 

Loki clutched at Steve like a lifeline and let himself hope that things would be alright.

[bellakitse]

Cowboy for sale

Isobel is hosting a costumed date auction and she puts Michael in a sexy outfit, Alex comes in to save the day.

Thanks to @gra-sonas for the picture!!

Alex sits back on one of Michael’s lawn chairs, a beer loose in his hand while Michael, on his second beer, sits comfortably next to him. It’s quiet between them but not awkward. It’s taken months, it’s taken fights, screaming matches, and tears, but they’ve finally found a sense of peace between them. Something comfortable between the love they’ve always had for each other and the friendship they have been building. For the first time since they were 17, he can honestly say that he and Michael are friends, and there is a comfort in that knowledge that leaves him at peace. They can just sit here outside Michael’s airstream after having the burgers he brought over from the Crashdown, share a beer, and share some silence as the sun starts to set behind them.

“Did you hear about this charity thing Isobel is running for Halloween next weekend? A date auction?”

Alex’s lips tilt up at the question, but he doesn’t say that not only has he heard about the auction but that he had jokingly given her the idea the last time they were out shopping. It’s not like he was actually serious. He’d just commented on not dating for a while and joked about buying a date. Isobel’s sassing him about that being prostitution should have been the end of it. But there had been a glint in her eye, and two weeks later flyers around town started showing up, announcing an all-male date auction with a Halloween after-party, costumes required. Rumor had it that the housewives of Roswell were eating the idea up and that the event was already sold out.

“Yep,” he says with a smirk. “I’ve heard rumblings.”

Michael, who has been looking up at the sky until now, turns his head to shoot him a look. “And did you hear that she is blackmailing me into participating?”  

Alex quirks an eyebrow. “And just how is she accomplishing that?” His grin growing when Michael lets out a huff while taking a pull of his beer instead of answering. He laughs softly, smirking when Michael shoots him an annoyed look. “It’s that embarrassing, huh?” he comments, only imagining just how much dirt Isobel must have on Michael, on either of her siblings, really. “I wonder if I can get it out of her next time she and I go for drinks,” he teases, raising his hands in a sign of peace when Michael scowls at him.

“Okay, relax,” he continues appeasing, shaking his head. “You can keep whatever embarrassing thing Isobel has on you a secret, it’s fine. So, are you going to do it?”

Michael shrugs. “It’s Iz; there’s nothing she’s threatening me with, no matter how much it amuses you to think so. It’s just I don’t like to say no to her. To rile her up sure, but she’s my sister and if she wants to put me in some ridiculous and in her own words ‘demeaning’ Halloween costume, to raise money for the Immigrant rights fund, who am I to say no? One, I get to show off the goods, which I have no problem with-“

“That’s because you have no shame,” Alex cuts in, with a quirk of his lips.

“Thought you liked that about me,” Michael drawls out, his eyes hooded in Alex’s direction.

The look sends warmth directly to Alex’s belly, and he finds himself holding his beer bottle tighter to keep from reaching out to Michael, pulling him out of his chair and settling him on his lap. Michael has a sly grin on his face as he watches, letting him know that while he might be controlling his impulses, he might not be doing as well controlling his face from showing what he wants.

“Among other things,” Alex answers, unable to keep from rising to the challenge. It’s a game he and Michael have started to play now that their friendship is established, and there is a quiet understanding that more is inevitable, underneath. He gives Michael a heated look, the kind that Michael has always responded to by pushing him against the nearest flat surface. The way Michael swallows now, his eyes on Alex's mouth as he licks his lips, tells Alex he's thinking about it. "What's two?"

"Huh?" Michael grunts, obviously lost in thought. Alex bites down on his bottom lip to keep from pushing for more.

They're taking their time with this.

"You said one," He continues, going for safer ground, instead of pushing the subject. "What's two?"

Michael's face brightens, taking on a wickedly amused expression. "Two, it will be hilarious to see the faces of the bigots as Isobel raises money for immigrants just because people are thirsty in this town."

Alex smiles, sharing Michael's amusement. "Almost makes me want to go."

Michael frowns. "You're not coming?"

Alex scoffs. "It's not like I'll be bidding on some straight guy, and I'm smart enough not to let your sister get dirt on me to blackmail me into participating as part of the auction. I'll just give Isobel a donation check."

"Don't you want to see what horrible costume Isobel puts me in?"

"And watch the real housewives of Roswell start a bidding war over you?" Alex frowns back at him. "I'm not actually a masochist."

Michael throws him a smirk, but Alex can see underneath the façade, a tiny bit of insecurity. “You think I’ll start a bidding war? Is that your way of telling me you think I’m pretty, Manes?”

Alex rolls his eyes, using every bit of his military hardass persona to keep from blushing. “Don’t fish for compliments, you have a mirror in that tin can you call home.”

Michael shakes his head as he lets out a laugh, and Alex can’t help but grin back at the man as he gives him a soft look.

“Fine, don’t come,” Michael gives him a fake pout, he bends his head down and looks at Alex through his lashes and the curls that have been getting longer. “Maybe we can meet up after Isobel is done objectifying me. Dinner at your place?”

“You might have to stay with your bid winner,” Alex reminds him, hoping his face doesn’t show how much he dislikes the idea.

“Alex,” Michael says his name gently, tilting his head to the side. “Meet me afterwards, okay?”

Alex licks his lips and finds himself nodding, helpless to say no. “Okay.”

 ***

 Isobel’s Halloween event rolls around, and Alex tries to pretend it hasn’t been putting him in a foul mood to think about it. He had lunch with Isobel a few days prior, and she had shown him pictures of some of the costumes she was going to put the volunteers in, they were brow-raising to be sure, but she had refused to show him what she was going to put Michael in. The downright devilish smirk on her face told him everything he needed to know.

“You could come and actually see for yourself, you know,” she had countered when he asked again to tell him. “Maybe bid on him and finally get your man.”

Alex shook his head at that, that’s not how he wanted Michael and him to reunite. They were building towards something real; he wasn’t going to let his impatience or his jealousy get the better of him. Michael deserved better than that. They both deserved better than a trashy town event with small-minded people.

Isobel just rolled her eyes at him as she dug into her salmon and warned him not to call one of her events trashy, though she didn’t argue the small-minded people part.

No, instead of going, he was going to stay in his cabin and wait for Michael. He has steaks marinating and a nice pasta side planned. He wasn’t sure how Michael was going to get out of having to stay with his bid winner, but Michael had asked him to wait for him, and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

He’s in the kitchen, making sure he has everything for dinner when his phone buzzes with an incoming text, followed by a couple more in rapid succession.

‘Change of plans.’

‘Isobel has lost her damn mind.’

‘I didn’t think I was capable of feeling embarrassment, but damn was I wrong.’

‘Alex, if you ever loved me, you’ll get here now and get me out of this.’

Alex raises an eyebrow at that last text, for all their talking and acknowledgment of their feelings; both a skittish of using the L-word.

Without a second thought, he grabs his keys and his wallet and heads for the car.

He gets to where Isobel is hosting the event in under 30 minutes, not even pausing when one of the door people ask him for his invitation. His stone-cold stare more than enough to shut the poor guy up, he’d feel bad, but he has something more important to worry about then his lack of manners. He looks around at the mostly female gathering, all in costumes, some more revealing than others, and in cheerful moods anticipating the night's entertainments.

He spots Isobel by the bar and makes a beeline for her. She sees him before he gets to her, and the smirk she sends his way makes even his harden Air Force ass nervous for a moment, and he wonders not for the first time if it was a wise move to become friends with her.

“I knew you’d cave,” she says smugly.

“I came because I got a series of alarming texts from Michael,” he starts, giving her an unimpressed look, because no one, not even Isobel Evans is going to out bitch him. “What monstrosity did you put him in, Isobel?”

Isobel’s grin widens if possible, and it’s obvious she’s trying hard not to laugh. “You want a sneak peek, Alex? That way, you’ll know just how much you are going to have to spend tonight to win him?”

Alex doesn’t answer, just shoots her another look and starts to follow her when she beckons him with a curl of her index finger, making her way toward the back behind the setup stage and down a narrow hall.

She knocks on a black door, letting out a huff when it’s met with silence.

She knocks again, harder.

“I’m not coming out like this, Iz,” Michael yells from behind the door. “I don’t care what I promised, you suck.”

Isobel snorts, her eyes twinkling with glee.

“Damn, Isobel,” Alex comments softly. “Just how bad is it?”

Isobel just shakes, and Alex realizes that it’s with silent laughter.

“Oh, Alex,” she breathes. “Wait till you see him.”

Alex stares at Isobel for another moment, before he knocks on the door himself. “Guerin, open up, I’m here.”

“Alex?” Michael asks tentatively.

“Yeah.”

“You came,” comes back through the door, his voice surprised and hopeful as he turns the knob.

“You said you needed me,” he starts as the door opens. He trails off as Michael comes into view. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, not when Michael is standing there, in that. He looks back at Isobel, who is practically vibrating with satisfaction.

"Isobel,”  he hisses as he takes in Michael's appearance, the leather straps, the tiny blue fabric, all that skin.  He doesn't know if he should throw a blanket over Michael or throw him down on the floor. "Have you lost your damn mind?"

“No,” Michael answers for her, a sour expression on his face. “She’s just a horrible sister.”

Isobel scoffs, lacking any remorse. “If anything, I’m paying you a compliment! That I actually think you can pull this look off.”

Alex watches as Michael stares down his sister for a couple of more seconds before he rolls his eyes, his lips twitching as he gives her an exasperated look. “You’re such a brat, Isobel,” he mutters, his voice fond, the smile Isobel gives him no longer smug but equally warm.

“You two are so weird,” he comments, realizing that this is a part of sibling relationships he’ll never get because he doesn’t have it with his brothers. The closest he’s had to this sibling need to rib each other is his relationships with Liz and Maria. He rolls his eyes when they both grin at him.

“He’s not going out like this,” he continues, holding up his hand when Isobel goes to argue and pulls out his wallet and the blank check he had put away for his donation, handing it over to Isobel. “Fill it with the amount you feel is best.”

He turns to Michael. “Pants, Guerin,” he orders. “I have steaks marinating back home, and I need a drink. I’ll be in the car.” He doesn’t wait for either of them to say anything and instead walks away, muttering to himself about crazy dramatic aliens.

 ***

 They get back to the cabin a little over an hour since he first left his home, Alex heads straight for the kitchen, confident that Michael will follow him. He pulls out two beers, placing one in front of Michael as he lifts himself to sit on the kitchen counter. Alex leans against the sink across from him and takes a good gulp, drinking half the bottle before pausing.  Michael, who thank god is back in his usual cowboy clothes, watches him, his beer hanging off his hand that rests between his knees. Alex takes a moment to study him, he looks comfortable in Alex’s kitchen, but that’s about as comfortable as he looks right now. The car ride had been pretty quiet, and now the silence has gone on too long, and awkwardness is starting to settle in between them. Alex hates it.

“What I don’t get is why you agreed to put on the outfit in the first place if it made you uncomfortable,” Alex questions. “Isobel was teasing, but she wouldn’t force you to go out like that if you didn’t want to.”

Michael shrugs, peeling at the label of his beer. “I wasn’t uncomfortable at first. I thought the costume was hilarious when she first showed it to me.”

“And very on brand, you even have your own hat,” Alex comments, making Michael chuckle.

“A cowboy, through and through,” Michael jokes, there is a boyish playful look on his face that always riles Alex up.

Alex clears his throat, trying to clear his thoughts too. “It works for you.”

Michael raises an eyebrow at him, a slow smile making it’s way to his face. “Guess that answers my question from the reunion. It didn’t get old for you,” he states, challenging.

Alex pushes off the counter and walks towards him, his pulse racing as Michael spreads his legs some more to let him in. He places his beer next to Michael, his hands gripping Michael’s thighs, smiling when he lets out a shaky breath. “I think we’ve established that it’s always worked for me.”

Michael gives him a grin, his eyes bright and Alex decides that they’ve wasted enough time, he lifts a hand to Michael’s hair and starts to tug him closer. For once, they seem to be on the same page because Michael is more than ready for him, leaning down and pressing his lips against Alex’s with a relieved sigh passing between them.

Alex savors the taste he’s gone too long without, his hands slightly shaking as he cradles Michael’s face and pours all the love and longing he’s been carrying around into their kiss. He can’t stop the wet laugh that escapes when they part as Michael continues to touch him, a happy grin on the face Alex loves ever so much.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see me like that,” Michael whispers as he touches his forehead against Alex.

He frowns confused, and Michael must feel it because he lets out a small laugh before continuing. “The costume was ridiculous,” he starts to explain. “I wasn’t embarrassed by it, but when I put it on, I knew I didn’t want anyone else to see me in it but you. I didn’t want to go on a date with anyone but you, I wanted to just come straight here and have dinner as we planned.”

Michael pulls back to look at him, those whiskey-colored eyes of his, shiny and wet.

“I don’t want to be with anyone but you, Alex,” Michael says, holding on to his hands. “So, can we just be together now?”

Alex nods, swallowing over the lump in his throat, his heart thumping hard against his chest at Michael’s words.

Michael lets out a relieved exhale, and Alex just has to kiss him again.

They get lost in it, no rush as Michael sits on his counter, and he leans against him.

“The costume wasn’t so bad,” he says between kisses.

Michael pulls away, laughing.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in it again,” he teases, feeling his cheeks go hot at the memory of the outfit and the smirk that Michael gives him now.

“You’d have to ask Isobel for it,” Michael warns, the grin on his face so smug.

Alex makes a face because no, he doesn’t want to do that.

Michael chuckles again at the face he makes. “Well, we don’t have the cowboy outfit, but I do have a hat…” he trails off, his hands going to the top button of his shirt, popping it open.

Alex pulls him off the counter as Michael opens another button, still laughing as Alex leads him to the bedroom. “The steaks can wait.”