#my next convention table is going to be a very weird fucking time for people

[mxaether]

rip your notifications sorry pal 💞

[atlasisreal]

YOU WERE AT *WHAT*????????????????????

yes it's true. the atlasisreal deep lore is that I attended dashcon in 2014.

that me 💕

anyways if you wanna hear my recollection of dashcon it's under the cut.

i was literally just a teenager at the time but seeing dashcon ads on Tumblr I was like. it's in Schaumburg??? like 30min from me??? I HAVE to go this is going to be the coolest thing ever. I love Tumblr all my mentally ill friends and supernatural gifs are on that website. I bet they're gonna have the coolest party ever.

LMAOOOOO

so i asked for the dashcon tix for my birthday! it was for me and my best friend (who attended and even cosplayed Homestuck with me despite not knowing anything about it) and my mom, who was mostly excited about staying in the nice hotel and swimming in the pool. I was so hype for this. anyways we get there and as people have previously talked about vis a vis dashcon, it was so hilariously underwhelming. the first thing you had to do was walk into the registration hall. I think most people have seen pics but they had written "Welcome DashCon" or something to that effect on the ground using blue painters tape, and the hall was empty asf which was really funny because they had set the table up aaaaaall the way at the back so you just got to walk across this big empty hall towards ONE PERSON sitting at a table (who in retrospect I'm pretty sure was the 19 year old they'd foisted this thing onto). she was super nice at the time though so shout out to that interaction.

we pretty much immediately headed for the only actual show floor area, which was the artists alley. if dashcon attendees are hard to find, I'm sure dashcon exhibitors are fucking unicorns bc there was... maybe 30 booths, if I'm being very generous. that being said, I got to meet nd Stevenson at dashcon! he was really nice, and complimented my cosplay. it's kind of fun to get to say I met the artist and author behind nimona and lumberjanes and she-ra at fucking DASHCON lol. hopefully next time I meet him it will be as a fellow professional comics artist huh who said that

gotta take a moment here to stress something. dashcon was very poorly planned and executed. this is true. BUT. the atmosphere, especially on the first day, was so joyful and connected. everyone was so stoked to be at THE Tumblr convention. all of us were weirdos who liked the weirdo website enough to show up in person for all our weirdo friends. We were all exchanging urls and taking big group photos and going to grab lunch together. people were very open and friendly. and I know that's my perspective as well, obviously there were plenty of things going horribly wrong behind the scenes, but having only been an attendee, it really wasn't the worst experience.

anyways so the day was fun and weird and a little boring because dashcon had fucking nothing going on but anyways so the scamming part. they called everyone into this main ballroom and stood on a little stage up front and were like "HEY IF WE DONT RAISE $200,000 THEYRE SHUTTING US DOWN" which definitely did NOT break my tiny little idiot baby heart. I definitely was super self aware and knew this was a dumb scam and I definitely DIDN'T cry and run to the hotel pool to tell my mom. she however immediately went "they're scammers and we paid for our hotel room so whatever lol". my bestie gave them $10 and after the fact was (rightfully) SUPER pissed about it because she WAS smarter than me and figured out the scam thing faster.

I think besides that scam thing the other thing I remember thinking was such fucking bullshit was that we would be walking past the ballroom where Welcome to Night Vale was supposed to perform and the line was insane. It was literally SOOOOO many people. I remember being a little bummed that I hadn't gotten tickets which was.... obviously a short lived regret. when they announced the night Vale cancellation I definitely realized shit was hinky.

a majority of the photos I have are from ballpitstuck! there was a Homestuck meetup at the ball pit, but a lot of us had found each other already and had been hanging out in little feral packs of homestucks, so we all meshed super well and basically immediately all became besties. we ended up kind of collectively agreeing to post stuff in the "ballpitstuck" tag, which is hilarious. I actually made fanart at the time! It's somewhere in the depths of my art blog. I've probably posted most of these before but for posterity:

we were cringe. but we were free. no but for real I did have so much fun hanging with the homestucks.

anyways the rest of the con was pretty much just hanging out and watching everything burn from the inside out. my favorite part was watching Tumblr react to dashcon in real-time, because everyone AT the convention was posting about it, and everyone who wasn't at the convention was actively following the updates. by the time we left I just remember being like "I think we've just experienced something very interesting". and now there's a Wikipedia page and a sarah z video about it so.

anyways shout out to my dashcon homies(tucks)

[performativezippers]

for the director's cut:

“You look like a sexy vampire,” Chloe says, grasping onto Helena’s bicep because she has absolutely no sense of personal space. “Like you’ve been around since the 1800’s, seducing people and drinking blood and generally lounging on, like, deep red velvet cushions.”

Helena laughs, and someone next to their table makes a slightly strangled sound.

Kate looks over to see Myka, who must have just walked up. She’s staring a Helena with a weird look on her face, but as soon as Kate takes a step towards her, she gives herself a little shake and focuses on Kate, the weirdness completely vanished. “Hey, Whistler,” she says, and Kate grins.

“Hey, Bering.”

Their hug is quick, because neither of them are naturally touchy. Myka’s hair is curlier than Kate’s ever seen it, like she’s finally figured out how to condition it properly, and she’s dressed the way she always is, in dark jeans and a simple purple cotton t-shirt. She looks like she gave absolutely no thought to being on TV, and Kate loves her for it.

Okay I have several Director's Cut asks about this section of the Ultimatum which I love! Here's this one.

In general, I love love LOVED writing this scene. I've never written Helena, Myka, or Chloe before, so it was really fun and challenging to simultaneously:

Pull them from their canons (Warehouse 13 and Pitch Perfect) and drop them into this one while remaining recognizable

Make them work as people Kate would actually be friends with

Fit into the conventions of The Ultimatum, aka fulfill the purposes of this brunch for the show

Move my fic's plot forward

Create tension for Kate and Lucy's romance arc

Show Kate and Lucy something new about each other

Show a new side of both Kate and Lucy to the readers

So that said, now let's play through this section. The fic is in black, my commentary is in purple.

“You look like a sexy vampire,” Chloe says, grasping onto Helena’s bicep because she has absolutely no sense of personal space. [Chloe Beale has negative zero conception of personal space. Doesn't she lick Beca's nose at some point? They basically make out the first night. This is just 100% canon Chloe and I love her. I also like thinking about some similarities between Beca and Helena, in terms of pasty-ass white girls with dark hair and enormous emotional walls.] “Like you’ve been around since the 1800’s, seducing people and drinking blood and generally lounging on, like, deep red velvet cushions.” [Obviously this is a joke/nod to Helena being a time traveler from the 1800s, and also I think she'd make a very sexy vampire. She HAS been seducing people since the 1800's and she looks like it! She'd do well against some blood red velvet cushions and I think Myka for one would like to see it]

Helena laughs, and someone next to their table makes a slightly strangled sound. [It's fun to find new ways to introduce characters! And in this setting, people keep arriving, so it was nice to say something other than "Now Myka walks in." I don't think Myka knew Helena would be here today, so not only is she (a) seeing Helena in the flesh for the first time in who knows how long, she's also (b) seeing Helena ON TELEVISION. This whole section is really just me playing with Helena wanting to take a bite out of Myka and Myka being desperately uncomfortable with how desperately she wants that to happen, while also trying--AND FAILING--to conceal all of it from Kate. Meanwhile Helena is like, Katie can know we fucked, darling, I'm not ashamed.]

Kate looks over to see Myka, who must have just walked up. She’s staring a Helena with a weird look on her face, but as soon as Kate takes a step towards her, she gives herself a little shake and focuses on Kate, the weirdness completely vanished. [Myka is good at focusing through absolutely wild shit going on] “Hey, Whistler,” she says, and Kate grins.

“Hey, Bering.” [SOMEONE needs to call Kate "Whistler" in this fic and I'm glad it got to be Myka! I feel like they would have called each other last names in college to mark themselves as different from the other sorority girls and I like that.]

Their hug is quick, because neither of them are naturally touchy. [Myka only touches HELENA] Myka’s hair is curlier than Kate’s ever seen it, like she’s finally figured out how to condition it properly, [I hate her straight hair fyi] and she’s dressed the way she always is, in dark jeans and a simple purple cotton t-shirt. She looks like she gave absolutely no thought to being on TV, and Kate loves her for it. [Myka's fashion sense is so funny. Everyone else on that show is so dated in what they wear -- the LONG TANK TOPS AND TINY VESTS, CLAUDIA, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD -- but for Myka it's like, cotton t-shirt and jeans of the week. I respect this. I wonder what Helena thinks about it.]

[hackedmotionsensors]

Thank you to the people who stopped by my booth this weekend at LACC!! I know I was a little down yesterday but I think I was just tired lol as you are when you've been subjected to light torture that is the LA Convention center LED overhead lights lol me the whole weekend "There are FOUR lights"

Anyway everyone who stopped by was absolutely lovely. Every now and then at cons you'll get someone really nasty or rude or a weird table neighbor but everyone was super chill and it was great.

however lmao

The con ITSELF what a NIGHTMARE lol I mean I've been to worse TBF. And they did provide us with table cloth, trashcans, a helper badge and an extra chair (a minimal request but some cons don't provide that).

But they also didn't have any designated exhibitor parking (not that unusual) but at LACC its 30$ a DAY. Then when we go to set up....the tables were not set up like a normal con. Normally cons put tables right next to each other in one long row and then you have a long open isle behind the tables OR the tables will be fairly close to each other but with a walkway behind and space to slide through on the sides of the table.

lol.....they put a bar with a curtain about two feet high in between EACH table. These are normally at the end to keep random people from going down the isles behind the tables. We were basically caged in at each table. There was no space for even a regular sized person but yknow I gots a lot of stuff in my wagon yknow? lmao But also to set up I have two big suitcases and a photo stand. Luckily the guys who were behind me were comic guys so they just had their big banners and didn't show up until like an hour before the con. But it was SO INCONVENIENT. But also...if I had some physical disability I wouldn't have been able to get behind the table! Even if it was just....being very plus sized or a broken ankle. Let alone if you had a wheel chair or crutches yknow? Plus having a METAL BAR with a curtain on it in between EACH table is a MASSIVE FIRE HAZARD. And by fire hazard I mean if there was ANY sort of emergency. A gun attack (bc security was...a mess lol), an earthquake (ITS FUCKING LA!!!???? HELLO!?!?), ANYTHING that would cause people to need to flee in a fast and orderly fashion we wouldn't be able to fucking GET OUT!

And then randomly on the last day the bars behind a few of the tables in my area were just...gone lol And I definitely tweeted about it being a fire hazard but I have no idea if they saw.

ANYWAY. The security thing was ALSO a joke. Bc on Friday set up started at 8 and I got there maybe around 830? 9? and I'd been there the whole day. I ran downstairs some time in the afternoon before the show started and suddenly there's a guy at the bottom of the stairs saying I have to go through the metal detectors.

I was ALREADY in the building......what??? So then I go through the metal detectors. Bc of course but also??? if I had anything I would have already done it??? And .....I VISIBLY DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING!?!?!? I was only carrying my keys. I don't have a glock strapped to my back lmao hello??? And then on Saturday I get there around the same time before opening but just barely bc again I'm trying to park in south parking which is just underneath where my table is and they made me go outside through security again. I was like....fine I guess but I'm already annoyed. Bc I tried to just bypass it lol Bc its fucking stupid like I'm an exhibitor. But they were so poorly managed they had EVERYONE walking out the same door so the regular visitors had to go THROUGH the industry and exhibitor security check. And then I had to go back all the way around to the front main steps (if you've been to AX its the dealers hall steps where everyone is cosplaying) and back around down to H hall where artist alley was. And I had a bag with me. So instead of me giving my bag to the bag check guy or having a separate one for people without exhibitor stuff they just had me walk through the metal detector anyway like dude I have a fucking ita bag on me~!!!!!!!!! Half of this stuff is METAL!!! And the same thing happened on Sunday except THAT check was moved to the front doors and EVERYONE had to go there. LIKE!?!??!? WHATS GOING ON LMAO. SO I tried to hand my bag to the bag check guy. I'm like its got metal in it? They're like no no just walk through. AND OF COURSE IT GOES OFF BC I TOLD THEM!!!!!! IT WAS METAL!!!!

And also during set up....they put artist alley near the back near the backdoors where there was a "beer garden" and food trucks and honestly the over priced quesadilla I had was really good but still....my poor wallet... But during set up as it got later in the day THE WIND started pouring in and knocked over a ton of set ups INCLUDING MY OWN. All my charms went flying bc my POS photo stand (I'm throwing it in the TRASH) fell over and all my prints were sliding around on the slide rails so I basically had to re-set up my entire display. So...thanks for that LACC as well.

AND THEN. On the last day LACC decided to not provide access to a freight elevator for artist alley. I'm not sure if the other end of the exhibit hall had to deal with this but since artist alley was down in the H Hall side of it there was ONE regular sized people elevator. And EVERYONE was trying to use it. We had to PAY to use the freight elevator. And the escalators which would have solved a lot of peoples problems who used suitcases like me....they were turned off the ENTIRE WEEKEND. They weren't even broken. They were just OFF. I guess they didn't want to pay for normal ass access to the floor. So the line to use the elevator was stretched from near the main entrance of dealers hall all the way down and back into H hall. And a bunch of us were like fuck it lets take the stairs but these are HEAVY cases of merchandise, prints, suitcases, photostands. ANOTHER massive ADA violation bc if someone has to wait that long just to use the elevator or try using the fucking stairs? Or if someone fell and hurt themselves taking their merch down??? The second suitcase when we got towards the bottom my leg almost gave out. I'm not like......super fit or in shape but I'm pretty sturdy but after a LONG THREE days of doing a convention I'm tired and hungry and frankly weak. Absolutely fuckin ridiculous.

This con was so fucking disorganized and a mess to attend. Like also I admittedly paid late but they still didn't tell me my table number until a few days before the con and they didn't TELL ME. They made me download THE FUCKING APP to get the information. Because they didn't put any of it on their website. None of the maps or artists lists were online unless you were like Scottie Young or one of the Hobbits lol

Will I do it again??? MMMMaybe????? Its a local con so its not like its hard to DO but its such a mess in terms of organization and the sales just aren't super hot bc yknow...lol its a local con??? and to be fair I had mostly vtuber stuff and not like....comic con stuff. But I'm getting better at my table display. I still need to make changes to get it perfect and I have to turn around and make merch for AI:LA as soon as possible TTnTT

I'm so tired OTL

[btbigelow]

OtakuFest diary

OtakuFest was great!!! Probably the most fun I've had at a convention so far, and it was my personal best in terms of sales. (Keep in mind this is only my fifth convention overall and I'm still small potatoes, so that is some very necessary context.) Met loads of nice people, participated in my first stamp rally - the decision to join the stamp rally was EXTREMELY last minute but it worked out fabulously. Met loads of kind and appreciative people. Picked up some commissions, which was unexpected. Made new friends. Can't gush enough about the experience. Miami Beach traffic is a fucking mess though. Thanks 2 @neopetting for getting my fragile ass through it and for also helping me learn how to be an Instagram hashtag gangstar because I still LOATHE Instagram Below is a picture of my table. I have a few adjustments to make in the future: in particular, next time, I need to make sure that my posters are better elevated. The crossbar I utilized is still much too short. I'm still waiting on a new honeycomb acrylic charm display in the mail but it's trapped in customs. I think in the future I'll move the A5 prints to the magazine rack and then hang the letter sized prints up with the posters, in order to accommodate other merchandise like lanyards, pillows, etc. I'm also going to get rid of the center table runner so the bumblebee tablecloth is better displayed, and so the bright yellow table runners on the left and right lead the eye up to the other merchandise.

Up next is the second Goblin Market!!! Peace Some statistics, because I enjoy sharing them: Top selling poster: Rowlet cake

Top selling letter print: Vespiquen

Top selling miniprint: Op-Op Fruit

Top selling sticker: Honey toast

Top selling button: Edgelord Warning

Top selling charm: TeddyTiel/Pukei-Pukei (tied between the two - didn't sell many acrylic charms)

Prints, particularly the mini-prints (and even more particularly the Akuma no Mi), constituted the majority of my sales. I sold comparatively fewer stickers, buttons, and charms. Which was really, really weird, but that's probably because I didn't have many charm or button designs in comparison to the other stuff.

[the-princess-of-loki]

Testing the limits

Pairing: Loki x Fem!reader

Word count: 2294

Warnings: fluff, smut, graphic description of smut, kind of voyeurism, a light slapping, orgasm denial, dom!Loki.

Loki called me 'mine' at least six times each time we had sex. However, he wouldn't even look at me whenever there were people around us. He wouldn't touch me, kiss me, hold my hand, ask me a simple question, fucking nothing.

And I was fucking tired of it.

That night, all of the Avengers were out at a club. I was dancing with Wanda and Natasha, but I decided I had to do something about the Loki situation. Needless to say, I was a little drunk. First, I danced with a bunch of strangers, but I knew that wasn’t going to do the trick. So, after a while, I walked towards the table where Loki, Thor and Stephen were drinking. Thor and the Doctor were chatting and Loki was trying to hide in the shadows. He didn’t look at me when I approach them and even though that was his usual attitude with me when we were around other people, it made me furious. It’s been two years, for fuck’s sake!

“I’m not even bothering with you, Stephen,” I said putting my hands on the table, making my cleavage show even more in my black, tight mini-dress with a long v-neck that reached until below my breasts. “Thor, would you dance with me, please?” I asked him battling my eyelashes at him while handing out my hand to the blond God of Thunder. He looked at me confused.

“I’d do anything for you, my friend, but I’m afraid I don’t know how to dance this type of music,” He seemed ashamed to admit it, so I smiled reassuringly at him, ignoring the look Loki was giving me.

“Nobody does! Come on, follow me,” I said as I grabbed his hand.

Thor followed me to the dance floor and tried very badly to imitate my moves. He wasn’t built to dance, but I wasn’t looking for a dance partner. My plan was reckless, to say the least, but I was sure it was going to work. If there was something Loki absolutely hated, was how well his brother and I got along. He hated even more when Thor and I agreed on something that he didn’t. But this wasn’t about that. I knew that Thor didn’t like me as more than a friend and I felt the same. However, I also knew that Thor was trying to push Loki to announce that we were together. This wasn’t the ideal way, but Loki wasn’t a conventional man. 

I passed my arms behind Thor’s neck and started to move my hips, making the ruffles of my dress sway with my movements. Thor laughed, knowing perfectly well what I was doing and grabbed me by the waist.

We danced together for a total of five minutes, I think. After that, Loki interceded. I wasn’t expecting him to do something, to be honest. I was hoping he would, but I didn’t think he would actually do it. He grabbed one of my arms quite forcefully, I must say, and dragged me along the whole club to the toilet room. The people who were waiting to enter started to shout at him, but he didn’t even turn to face them. Inside the toilet room, Loki made me enter one of the booths and he closed the fully written door behind him. He pressed me against the booth’s side wall with his two big hands next to my head, blocking my every way of escape. He was furious and I looked at him with a smirk. Was it weird that I was kind of turned on at that moment?

“What do you think you are doing?” Loki asked in a whisper, his voice full of refrained rage. “Dancing with my brother in that way, almost showing the whole club your ass under your dress. What did you think?” He never raised his voice, but his face and tone conveyed his angriness perfectly. I, being drunk, laughed.

“Well, I was dancing!” I answered him in a high pitch while still laughing.

“Did you want to make me jealous, foolish creature?” he tsked. “What a waste of time. I would never be jealous,” I laughed hard.

“Oh, Loki, you’re as jealous as you could be,” I laughed again. “But that is not new to us, is it? You always get jealous, punish me, and then we get back to the same routine of hiding,” I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, Loki? I’m tired of this. It’s been two years since we started to mess around and at the beginning, I understood, but now? Let’s just skip this part and break… whatever it is that is going on between us,” I sounded much more convinced than I was. Actually, my heart was breaking with each word. But I was drunk and tired.

“Something is telling me that you don’t want that, my little mortal,” His green eyes were wide with surprise, but he hid behind a smirk.

“No, I don’t. But you give me no choice, Loki! I’m tired of being hidden. Are you ashamed of me? Because if that is the problem, then we can’t-”

Loki crashed his lips on mine, silencing my words and protests. He kissed me hard, taking my breath away almost immediately. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth, kissing me deeply while his hands travelled down my body until he grabbed my thighs. I crossed my ankles behind his back as I scratched his upper back and kissed him back. Loki grabbed one of my asscheeks below my dress and squeezed it hard making me moan into his mouth. He then pressed his hips against mine, making his hard cock collide with my wet, clothed core. He rolled his hips, making me moan again and he chuckled without breaking our kiss. He kept on teasing me, increasing my arousal with each of his movements and I didn’t bother to hide my moans. We were in a toilet booth of a club, people would expect this to happen. However, I knew my punishment would appear soon. Loki was giving me too much without asking for anything in return and after the little show I did for him, he surely wanted to punish me. I felt a breeze of cold air in my core when Loki disappeared my black panties. I felt his hard-clothed cock against me and I whimpered a little because the zipper of his black jeans was uncomfortable. He pulled down his pants and boxers, making his cock jump against my wet folds making me beg for more friction. I didn’t get it, though. I got something way better. Loki thrust with full force inside me, his cockhead hitting my g-spot. I threw my head backwards, moaning his name. However, he used his free hand to grab my chin forcefully and make me look him in the eyes.

“Do not dare to cum, understand?” he asked me while keeping the movements of his hips constant and forceful. “This is for my pleasure, not yours,” He grunted while biting my lower lip until it bled. 

He moved his hips until only his cockhead remained inside and then slammed back inside, making me scream in my pleasure. He released my chin and that hand went down my body until it reached my clit. He started to rub it, driving me insane with each thrust and movement of his hand. Loki smirked at me for an instant before his face became contorted with pleasure. 

“Why am I punishing you?” he asked in between his grunts. “Answer me!”

“B-because I-I f-flirted w-with-” He didn’t let me finish as his other hand found my asscheek and gave me a little slap. I cried out, half in pleasure, half in pain.

“Wrong, mortal. Try again. Why am I punishing you?” Loki reinforced each word of his question with a thrust inside me.

“B-because…ahhhh���I made you…fuck, yes, Loki…jealous,” I tried again only to receive another slap in my asscheek.

“Ha! As if,” Loki answered sarcastically. “Turn around, now,” he ordered me as he let go of me so I could follow his instructions. My legs felt wobbly, but I did as I was told and pressed my chest and face to the wall, pulling my ass out for him. Loki slapped me again, which made me gasp before he opened my legs the most that we could for the little space we had and thrust inside me again. “I am punishing you…” he whispered in my ear while his hand found my clit again and rubbed it. “...because of the absurdity of you…” his other hand grabbed my neck and pulled me back so I could see him with a side gaze. “...thinking I am ashamed of you,” He finished while his fingers on my neck squeezed a little harder, leaving marks.

“T-then…ahhhh…w-why…fuck, Loki, I-I c-can’t resist…” I couldn’t finish my sentence because of the pleasure that was increasing inside me. He let go of my clit but still thrust inside me.

“Oh, no, little mortal. I told you, you are not cumming.”

Loki continued slamming into me and I did everything I could to hold my orgasm because I knew it was going to be worse for me if I didn’t. I kept moaning his name because I knew how much he liked it and I wanted him to be happy. He bit down the place between my shoulder and my neck, leaving a very visible mark. I screamed his name, loving it as he marked me. I wanted to be his and I wanted him to show it to everybody. That was everything I asked for. Was it so hard? He said he wasn’t ashamed of me, then, what was it? I didn’t understand. I focused on that instead of the sheer pleasure he was giving me so I wouldn’t cum. I felt it the exact moment he cum, filling me with his semen and moaning my name so loud that the whole universe could have heard him.

When Loki recovered from his orgasm, he arranged his jeans while I tried to find my panties. After he finished fixing his clothes he smirked at me and showed that my black lace panties were in fact inside his pants’ pocket. I sighed and settled for fixing my dress. Truth was, I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t know what he was thinking about what I told him before this incredible sex session. I felt the same way as before- I just couldn’t resist him. Loki opened the booth and I stepped outside with him following me. We both walked back to the dance floor, not touching at all. However, when we reached the middle of the dance floor, he grabbed my wrist and turned me around so I was facing him. I looked at him surprised, not knowing what he was doing to do next. Loki passed one of his arms through my waist and cupped one of my cheeks with the other hand, releasing my wrist from his grasp. He smiled sweetly at me before he gave me a sweet peck on the lips.

“Never think, for one second, that I am ashamed of you or us,” he said while nuzzling our noses together once he pulled back from our kiss. “I was feeling so rapturous that I didn’t want anything to ruin it. I am sorry if my actions made you think otherwise,” He gave me another sweet peck before looking at me with concern in his green eyes and features.

“You’re forgiven, as long as your usual ‘mine’ becomes a reality around other people too. I just want to be yours and let everybody know about it. I’m sorry if I expressed myself too harshly before. I’m drunk, you know?” I said with a small giggle, caressing his sharp jawline with my fingers.

“Oh, but everybody does know, my sweet mortal. I made sure of that about a year and a half ago,” Loki smirked as surprise clouded my features.

“B-but how? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Do you remember that morning I took your breakfast to bed?” he asked while swaying us in a slow dance that was too slow for the electronic music of the club, but I didn’t care at all. I passed my hands behind his neck and grabbed some of his curls to play with. I nodded. “Well, that same morning I told everybody in the tower why I was cooking and for whom. And I didn’t tell you anything because I thought you would find it too… suffocating, perhaps?” Even with the awful lighting of the club, I could see the pink in his sharp cheeks. It was adorable.

“Of course not! I would’ve saved so many tears if I knew that…” I smiled adoringly at him so he would know that I wasn’t angry at him anymore. He smiled back at me lovingly.

“Once again, I am sorry. You are the most important being in my life, I would be devastated if I lost you, min kjærlighet,” Loki usually spoke Asgardian with me, but he had never pronounced those words. I knew the first one meant ‘my’, but I didn’t know the second one. I shook my head.

“There is no way for you to lose me. I am yours, my beautiful prince,” He gave me a kiss on my forehead before answering.

“And I am yours, my beautiful mortal. Now, let's go back to our bedroom. I am going to make you scream my name so loud that all the Nine Realms will hear you," He whispered with a charming smile and mischief in his green eyes.

I could only nod, my dripping core ready for him, as always.

[sherbovania]

WHAT HAPPENED AT THE CON?!? did people buy your stuff? were they weird as shit? give us the details expand on the horrors (pls)

many horrors occurred with me and my bestie @/z0mbieb0yx3 at galaxycon columbus from december 2-4 2022. the first thing to go wrong was me throwing up in his car at like 9am and looking back i consider it an omen

to answer your questions specifically:

did people buy your stuff?

no they didn't. i sold a grand total of $50 worth of stock. on saturday, which is supposed to be peak operating hours, i sold a grand total of 5 items and that just kinda made my resolve shatter. i remember crying about it on the drive back home, as well as panicking during day 3 about what my father would think of me after such a catastrophic and horrendous failure since he is both Business Man (man who knows everything about business) and expects perfection from me. my mom on the other hand was very understanding and kind when i turned up at our house at 11pm with bloodshot eyes and dried tears on my face so uh shoutout my momma yo

were they weird as shit?

most people were very nice fortunately! never once did i feel unsafe at the con. there was one guy who came up to our table that kinda skeeved me out but that's the most of it really. a lot of Autism (affectionate) was on display at da con which is always appreciated and i got to link up with some artists that i'm cool with now ^^

we were WOEFULLY unprepared. we didn't have enough variety in stock to make our booth look full AND we had no display equipment (stands, tablecloth, bins, etc.). our shit (respectfully) looked budget as fuck we were not big ballers

this was not helped by the layout of the exhibition hall being absolute doodoo garbage. you had to go WAY out of your way to even find the artist alley which was in the far back left corner of the room, you couldn't even see it from the entrance because of the 10 foot high Premium Vendor booths. there was NO signage directing you towards the alley or even saying you arrived at it so w/o a map you just had to stumble into it. right behind the alley was the bafflingly small food court (a subway, jet's pizza and chick-fil-a stand lined up next to each other) which didn't bring in any traffic from what i could gather

our booth was right next to this very nice couple who would check in with us occasionally and we learned thru them that everybody in the alley was getting no fucking sales! gee i wonder if the poor layout had anything to do with it. it's not a small convention by any means, which made the fumbles all the more shocking. they told us to not beat ourselves up over low sales which was really nice to hear and genuinely reassuring :] day 3 was basically everybody trading stock with each other since they knew it was absolutely and unequivocally joever

some of the horrors were my fault though. that weekend was the first time i drank a monster energy and i (a dumbass) thought it would be so awesome and so cool to drink it on an empty stomach. immediately i felt the repercussions and thought i was having my Jokar Moment until wingding suggested i eat some fucking pizza and suddenly i was like yeah this is fine i'm good now. who woulda thunk it. i did it again the next day and the same thing happened because i never learn. i also tried edibles for the first time on this Very Professional Business Trip and i instantly got scared. oops

in short: columbus ohio is hell. do not go there

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM II

TĒCTUS: Covered, concealed, hidden, having been covered, hidden or concealed

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18, mature content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @ava-valerie , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @cazxcx , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @bayley-no-friends , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I would like to thank @letsgivethisonemoreshot , for not only being my partner in crime with this trilogy but also being one of the best friends someone could ever have 😘 This is fully written in Damian’s POV. If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist

Want to hear a joke that’s really in poor taste? The Mother Superior of the famous Mary Magdalene Convent (isn’t that ironic) is being accused of hosting ‘parties’ to the oh so loving convent donors. And you know who isn’t invited to those parties? Jesus Christ. Because the Devil sure loves to be a part of them! Drugs, orgies, alcohol, prostitution, even black masses... you name it! Everything that is unholy happens in the so-called house of holiness, and if that isn’t a bad taste joke, I don’t know what is.

So here I am now, driving towards the Devil’s den: the Mary Magdalene convent for three torturous days of interviews. Out of all of the reporters from The New York Times, of course I was the one who drew the short straw and got assigned this article. Some people see this as a career changing opportunity... a blessing, but me? I see it as a fucking curse! I don’t like religion, I don’t like churches, I don’t like priests and I sure as hell don’t like nuns! Anything that has the word “holy” in it, I prefer to be as far away as I possibly can from. But today was not my lucky day….no, today was the day that I was going to be tested. The only thing I’m hoping for is to not fail.

I knocked on the convent’s door and a young lady answered me.

“Hi, good morning. I’m Damian Priest, reporter from The New York Times and I’m here for an interview with” I looked down at my notepad “Mrs. Y/N L/N? Whom I believe is the Mother Superior”

The young girl only nodded once and motioned for me to follow her, without saying a word.

I followed her in, mesmerized by the size of the convent, the whole place was fancy as fuck on the inside. Art pieces from famous painters were displayed on the walls, modern furniture, dim lights that made the place look cozy and inviting. *What a scam* I thought to myself. The young lady in front of me suddenly stopped walking and pointed towards the door in front of her before turning around and leaving.

Presuming that it was the Mother Superior’s office, I knocked on the door twice before someone told me to come in. You see, when they told me I was going to be interviewing the Mother Superior of a convent, the last thing I expected was for her to not only be beautiful, but young (considering I was under the impression that women in that position were around sixty years old). She was breathtaking to say the least! Soft features, her skin had an angelic glow to it and there was something in her eyes that trapped you in them...something you could not turn your gaze away from no matter how bad you wanted to.

“Mr. Priest, please sit down” She smiled

I nodded and sat on the chair in front of her desk

“Thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to speak with me, Mother Y/L/N-“

“Please, call me Y/N” Her sultry voice spoke

“Y/N” I tested the word on my lips and it sounded oddly pleasant

She smiled softly and...fuck she’s gorgeous! Her beauty was a painful and constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, couldn’t touch, couldn’t-“

“Mr. Priest?” She said softly

“Damian”

“Damian, would you like something to drink? Coffee, water, juice, tea perhaps?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you” I answered, while grabbing my notepad and a pen out of my backpack. Clearing my throat, I said “Can we get started with the pre-interview?”

“Of course” She smiled widely and reached for a cigarette pack on top of the table, which made me raise an eyebrow

“We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we, Damian?” She asked, licking the cigarette filter before sucking it

*Am I going crazy?* I thought to myself

“Damian? Your first question is?” She giggled

“Ummm” I cleared my throat once again “Y/N, recently the convent was involved in a huge scandal involving drugs, prostitution, orgies and black masses. Would you like to clarify why an institution that’s deeply connected to the church is in the middle of something so profane?”

She grinned “God is in the most profane things, Damian. After all, the sinners are the ones who need Him the most, aren’t they?”

“I’m not sure if I follow-”

“You see” She took a long drag on her cigarette and walked towards me “God is our Lord and savior. He forgives us from our sins, grants us forgiveness to our most foul actions” She sat down on the chair beside me “If you steal from someone and repent; He’ll forgive you, kill someone and repent; He’ll save you, cheat on your wife with the hot, young next door neighbor and repent; He’ll brush it underneath the carpet and pretend it never happened” She shrugged “God doesn’t judge, Damian. He only forgives” She leaned forward on the arm of the chair, until she was uncomfortably close to me “So if the big boss himself doesn't judge anyone, then why should I?”

“And what does judgment have to do with drugs, orgies and sin?”

She smiled “How can God forgive you if you don’t sin, Damian?”

“And how can God forgive his so-called followers who incite others to sin, Y/N?”

“Incite others to sin?” She chuckled “Are you talking about the allegations, the donors or yourself?” She smirked

………………………………………………….......................

Since we’re so far from town I was informed that I would have to spend the night at the convent. They showed me my bedroom and it looked pretty fancy. King size bed, Egyptian sheets, expensive furniture. Everything was oddly normal, except for the weird dream I recalled having. I was at the convent, lost, calling for help because I somehow ended up locked in here. I was inside what looked like a large basement, the room was only lit by red lights, a faint smell of leather took over my nostrils as I heard someone moaning softly in my ear…a woman. And the weirdest thing was that I could’ve sworn I felt her breath against my ear. Needless to say I woke up with my dick as hard as a rock and had to spend a solid thirty minutes trying to get rid of a very painful boner, which did not leave me no matter how many times I came. Half hard and inside a convent...yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell!

“How did you sleep, Damian?” Was the first thing I was asked when I walked into the Mother Superior’s office in the morning. Something in her voice told me she knew exactly what I had done underneath the shower.

“Good”

“I bet you woke up feeling much better after a good night of rest, right?” She smiled devilishly and I just nodded

“Would you mind if we took a tour through the convent at some point?” I asked, quickly changing subjects

“Of course not! Let me know when you want one”

I nodded and began to ask my questions

“So, why do so many men keep coming and going from this convent? Seems like the place men shouldn’t be”

“The only men who come to the convent, Damian, are maintenance, the donors for the ‘thank you parties’ we host and now you” She smiled

“How do you get so many people to keep donating?”

“We don’t oblige anyone to do anything. People are still kind enough to see the work we do for those in need and they get touched by it. So God is the one who inspires them to donate, Damian. Not me”

“I’ve noticed a lot of fancy things here. Shouldn’t the money be going to something else?”

“The ‘fancy’ things you see are gifts from the donors. Things they felt in their hearts they should give us freely. We don’t buy things for the convent, apart from food. That’s one of the rules”

“Speaking of rules” I looked at her “Why are you smoking? Isn't that not allowed?”

“We don’t have rules against smoking here, Damian. The choice to do it or not is personal, but there are no rules for it. It’s not forbidden or a sin. Now, if you think nuns shouldn’t smoke, I suggest you pay a visit to the convents in Rome and give them a piece of your mind about their choices regarding health”

I chuckled at her comeback

“Why so cynical about our good intentions?” She licked her lips

“Because you don’t have any” I spat

“We live for helping those in need, Damian” She pointed towards my visible bulge

“Helping those in need, huh? And what do you get out of it?”

She walked towards me “Satisfaction in its purest form” She lifted one hand up and caressed my lower belly over my shirt “It’s incredible how much providing relief to others can trigger the biggest pleasure in our bodies...to see their eyes semi-closed in...relief is so rewarding to me”

I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. “And just how needy do these people have to be?” I was speaking in financial terms of course

“Very needy” Her hand toyed with my jeans button “Some even have trouble sleeping due to their neediness, so you can see how a helping hand goes so well in this case...even the right mouth, you know to profess the Lord’s word”

“And just how many of these ‘charitable acts’ have you been involved with?” I felt my cock grow harder and harder

“Directly? Only when things get too hard, Damian” Her hand brushed against my hard bulge “That’s when I offer my help, so things can stop getting so hard and painful”

I gulped as I tried to shift away from her touch “So what, you just have all these other poor girls do your dirty work for you?” I try to keep my serious composure

“I’m not afraid of getting dirty, Damian. The girls do what they can, what they’re instructed to...but sometimes things get so hard that I have no other option but intervene” She pulled the fly of my jeans down “Then, once the seed of evil is finally spilled, things can go back to being soft again” She leaned in closer “Would you like a demonstration, Damian? I’m sure you have some kind of evil inside you that needs to be released” She asked with a sinister smile reaching her hand into the waistband of my boxer briefs

“I’m just here for work, Y/N, I have nothing to donate”

“Don’t worry about it. My girls will not be involved in this...it will be our little secret”

“I would like the tour now, please”

She smirked “Of course” and stepped away from me “This way” She went out the door as if nothing had happened

“Psycho bitch” I whispered to myself, as I pulled the fly of my jeans up and tied my hoodie around my waist to cover up the boner.

“This way we have the nuns bedrooms” She pointed towards a hallway “Kitchen, restrooms, archives, laundry room, storage for cleaning supplies, pantry” She explained each room, until we were outside “The patio, garden; where we cultivate flowers, fruits and vegetables, garage and the chapel is this way”

She walked towards a medium sized chapel in the middle of the garden, it looked like a regular chapel on the inside. It had an altar with a bible on it, a pulpit, a big cross, devotional statues of catholic saints, wooden benches and a confessional. Candles were lit up all over the place and everything looked normal. Scarily normal, until I noticed a few nuns who were sat on one of the benches staring at me with a weird look on their eyes

“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Y/N

“Like what?”

“Like, with...” I trailed off

“With desire?” She whispered in a mocking tone

I looked down at her speechless

“One could say that you’re a little too obsessed with the lust theme, Damian” She smiled “It’s all you can think about ever since you got here, dear. You should be careful” She licked her lips and pulled me by my hand towards her office again.

………………………........................................................

Later that night while I was trying to get some sleep, I began to hear some mumbling. Muffled voices kept saying something unintelligible and filling up the bedroom with mainly female voices. But one of the voices sounded too familiar to me...

I stood up from the bed and began to search in the room where those voices could be coming from, and as I almost gave up, I found it. A small hole of the size of a coin, in the concrete wall in front of my bed. Scooting closer to the wall, I knelt down and peeked through the hole, but weirdly enough, the room was pitch black. The mumbling started again and they soon became moans. Above all the moaning voices, one stood out to me. It was Y/N’s voice, she moaned softly while she said something I couldn’t quite understand. Her voice was filled with lust, her moans were pornographic and I could swear she was moaning my name. It both frightened and turned me on, so I did what any wise man would do. I returned to the bed, laid down and jerked off before falling into a deep slumber.

..................................................................................

“Wake up” Someone softly whispered in my ear

I quickly opened my eyes and my heart was beating at a frantic pace due to the fright.

A young girl was sitting down on my bed “Please, follow me” was all she said before standing up and leaving my room

I was so confused that I didn’t even bother to grab a t-shirt, so I just followed her down the hall barefoot and only with a pair of sweatpants on. Looking outside the hallway windows, I could see that the sky was still dark, which could only mean it was the late hours of morning.

She took me inside the laundry room and pressed a button underneath the folding clothes table. A door opened and a red light lit up the dark wooden stairs. I continued to follow her down the stairs, and we began to walk down a long hallway that looked more like a basement. The whole place had only red lights as the lighting source, so it took my eyes a while to get used to it.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, but only received silence as a response

We walked for what felt like ten minutes until we reached a black wooden door with an iron door knocker. She knocked on the door four times and left.

“Is this a prank?” I asked myself, after five minutes of standing there alone. Suddenly the door opened, but I couldn’t see anything other than darkness ahead

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, but no one answered back

The thing that made me such a great reporter was my utter curiosity, and even with all my senses screaming ‘don’t go in there!’ I decided to listen to my curious side instead, and went into the room. As soon as I stepped a foot inside, the door behind me closed shut.

The room was pitch black and I stumbled across a few items. I placed my hand on top of what felt like a table so I could try to guide myself through the room, at least back to the door again so I could leave. When suddenly I felt several pairs of soft hands on my torso pulling me back.

“What the fuck?” I gasped in shock

But before I could make a move, my wrists and ankles were tied to a wooden surface and a red light turned on in the room

Five nuns were in front of me, staring silently at my body

“Leave” Someone said from behind me, and the nuns obeyed and left

“I would be lying if I said you weren’t a beautiful sight” Y/N said, and and walked in front of me

“You psycho bitch” I growled and pulled at the restraints “Let me go!”

She smiled “Oh Damian...You don’t want that!” Her nails softly scratched my lower belly “And neither do I”

“You’re sick! Let me go, you fucking-“

“Na ah” She slapped me across the face “I’m done playing these pretending games” She lit up a cigarette “Pretend you didn’t jerk off to my moans, pretending you don’t want to fuck me...that gets tiring” She dipped her hand inside my sweatpants and found my semi hard bulge “You’ve wanted to fuck me ever since you laid eyes on me” She giggled and I licked my dry lips

“Those sinful, filthy, thoughts you’ve had, Damian” She closed her fist around my erection “You wanted to know what we do here, right? We purge that demon out of you” And scooted closer until her lips brushed against my own with every word she spoke

“We send him away, so he can’t bother you anymore” She freed my cock from my pants and began to pump her hand up and down “We release you from the seed of evil”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I panted

Y/N knelt down in front of me and darted her tongue out, licking my slit “Give me the seed of evil, Damian” and gave an open mouth kiss on my tip “Feed me with it” Licked the underside of my shaft “Release yourself from what’s been bothering you ever since you got here” Darting her tongue out “Use me to purify your soul” And opened her mouth wider.

At such a sight I had no other option but to buck my hips forward…

And chase for my cleansing

If you’re comfortable with it, please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[nochiquinn]

campaign 1 episode 27 REDUX: The Path to Whitestone OR travis willingham’s personal hell chamber

I was looking for timestamps (god bless you, people who do timestamps in youtube comments) and found this absolute gem of a comment that p much says what I was trying to get across w/my onion avocado comments last time

[id: Besides his metagaming, his dice fudging, and other things, like the "I want to do 6 things. Those things don't work the way I wanted? Then forget it I don't do those and now I want to do these 6 other things. I can't do that? Well then let me say the same exact idea even though you just told me I couldn't". I realize looking back that a big problem was him staying in his lane in roleplaying. In D&D everyone plays a role. The Wizard takes care of the spells, the rogue does the sneaky sneak, etc. But then there's also the roles like the planner, the tank, and even the comic relief. Tiberius did well when he fit into his role as the professor and the spellcaster. But then he wanted to get into everyone else's lanes and make the show all about him.

Laura/Vex had Trinket and so he got a pet pseudodragon. If that were all then it wouldn't be a big deal. Scanlan makes the sexual jokes and come-ons, and Orion tries to jump in on that too. To disastrous results. He starts inventing weapons, Percy's role, and they are pretty high damage melee weapons and uses them brutally. Grogs role. The Briarwood arc is Percy's story. Tiberius jumps into this with the "Yeah ME, It happened to ME. I HATE them". Trying to take on some of the personal vendetta aspect for Tiberius. Because the whole story needs to be about him and not Vox Machina. Anything that others do or get attention for, he wants to take for himself. You've got to fill your role and let the others fill theirs, let them have their drum solos too, and their parts of the story that aren't shining a light on you at the moment. Ideally, you want to support them and help them get their spotlight moments.]

"vespa, thrown from a tower wall" me, who associates the name with percy and vex's infant daughter: 😨

(I mean it's still 😨 but...infants)

I will never be as good at atmospheric writing as matthew goddamn mercer

taliesin listening with his eyes closed

laura and travis gossiping on the top table

"are we there?" no, you're cows

s n i t c h

"can we do the ricochet noises if percy misses" "okay but I want 5.1 so start here and go down"

the wookie noises for trinket

"am-bear-dextrous" 

"I'm just saying, I haven't meta-gamed" I think the first time I watched this I literally said out loud "do you want a cookie??"

"thanks for leaving a BEAR on suicide watch" "it was to CUDDLE if you were SAD. it was a THERAPY BEAR."

"percy, you're up" "[the deepest sigh]"

matt trying to describe the misfire while everyone does PTWING noises

taliesin: "I'm gonna do something a little weird" me: :D

meelee

(this is not me picking on matt, I too pronounce it meelee, but that's bc of an ancient TFS Plays L4D video) (I MEELEE'D HIM FOR YOU GAN)

orion not realizing their prisoner was getting choked out

it's not happening to tiberius so it doesn't matter 😌

"he's got better armor class than I do" bc he's a BEAR

"trinket missed?" "yeah" "PWING!"

lmao marisha asking for napkins and ryan just going "oh, shit"

marisha vs drinks is an eternal battle

this is now a foley artist convention

#supplebear

immune to gravity

The Party Is Now Deaf

"if you fail I get to scream in your ear"

marisha lasering herself in the eye

"hold still, casper"

"all I know is how to stick my face into beehives, apparently"

lmao there was shit on the bottom of the stein the very next episode

vax asking keyleth about her hand and sam looking frantically between marisha and liam

"I rolled a one! :D"

percy dropping eaves

"you wanna stop being a fucking creeper"

insight check ur party member

ahh, yes. orion's attempt at building a spin-off series all by his damn self.

"I didn't know we had a whole ARMY at our disposal, that's wonderful to hear." I cannot screencap laura's sarcasm or I absolutely would

oh my g o d, dude, no one wants to do your plan, just sit DOWN

"as vex is saying this, tiberius is getting a half-chub"

tumblr is going to eat my soul trying to post all of these but watching their faces during certain scenes has always been fun for me and now, when orion is going off the rails for reasons no one can discern, and they can't call him out Live On The Internet...it's fandom anthropology. for me anyway.

(it's also me being made WILDLY uncomfortable by the vibes they have created in the studio today and focusing on literally anything else)

(ftr they should have called him out Live On The Internet)

another comment pointed out that knowing now that travis has adhd, his reactions are [deposits self in my psychology armchair, in front of my projector] possibly at least partially from being bored out of his skull and the general agitation that can create in adhd people

(the other part is orion being a horse's ass)

I love how they all pronounce "assum" has like a corruption of "hassan" despite matt not pronouncing it that way even once

sam: "we've always sought the path of most glory [describes a raid on the castle full of vampires]" travis: yes. thank you. this man understands me. for the love of god please let me hit something.

sam: maybe we should leave it up to the stream everyone else: absolutely FUCKING not

"I'm not dragging you into this with me" "we're CHOOSING to go, shut the FUCK up"

"all opposed say nay" "moo"

it's also weirdly endearing to watch the subs climb up, there's only 9k so far

smoke bomb ?

liam's old man ringtone

orion getting shitty when taliesin does the thing they already agreed to do just bc orion changed his mind

taliesin, 2015: save rp for good shit liam, 2019: I wanna roleplay fish and chips!!

"I thought you said you were gonna be brief" "I would if everybody else would shut the fuck up"

"how do you [remember npc names on the fly]??" "because I have to"

oh no it died

the timeline is going but the audio and video are not

oh there it goes

"it reminds me of my friend" ;-;

they never let themselves forget pike

jfsdfjs travis dropping his die while he was fidgeting with it

forgot that was from here

vex: haggle, goddamn you

orion: I have eight things travis:

mala said I have to watch travis' soul die in real time

mirrors

matt: if you're not going to f u c k i n g listen I'm going to take 500 gold from you

travis: I'm gonna kill everybody

(that's not me editorializing, he literally old laura that)

vax clipping one of keyleth's flowers 🥺

idk if laura called liam a dork or made a throwing up noise

"go sleep in your money"

"someday we will get out of the character creation menu, but it is not this day" "I don't like the nose yet" I am called out

I was called out the first time and I am still called out, nothing has changed

"percy is used to unstable things" "was that a jab at my - no, nevermind. can we not talk about my tastes?"

"that's what I do. that's what tiberius does." good, one more fucking useless thing

(I've honestly stopped watching the screen, did he get shitty about marisha's "I'm doing it 'cause I said it, I've committed, I'm setting a standard"?)

"I had to ask" no you didn't

"what if I roll like shit?" "then it'll be hilarious!"

"everyone remember that tiberius can just call in destruction whenever he wants"

"it reads - " "return to sender"

taliesin gargling for keyleth's water elemental speech

how did he not choke

(practice)

absolutely despise the rope bridge sound effect. hate it.

"know what I would give for a flying fucking carpet right now?!"

"I tie up all the horses" rip those horses

"these cliffside, coastal fjords" travis: 🤔

"I start researching liches, just bc I want to" ykw you could have tried to make the argument that, as a wizard, tiberius recognized some of delilah's magic and thought she might be a lich but now you just sound shady as fuck

that "do you wanna arm wrestle?" "no." was how I realized travis was just. not good.

like obviously he has not enjoyed this episode at all but that exhange was what drove it home for me

new meme format

"grog, throw something really heavy" "I pick up scanlan"

[mirohlixie]

Never Enough (Hyunlix) Pt. 4

Pairing: Felix x Hyunjin Word Count: 2.1K Genre: AU, love, dystopia

Synopsis: In a world where being different from the conventional gender and sexuality rules means death, the gay youngster Felix struggles to hide his true sexuality. He is doing well until he meets Hyunjin, an undercover hitman hired by the government to get rid of all the "different" people in hiding. The moment the two meet each other, both of their lives change forever, but will it be enough?

Content warnings: AU, homophobia, discrimination against LGBTQ+, explicit language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that one day at Felix’s house, the two met up a lot more than they did before. They grew more and more comfortable being in each other’s presence and the awkward silences dissipated. It felt normal, like they’d been friends for years instead for only weeks.

They hung out at Felix’s house often, but also went elsewhere. Never to Hyunjin’s place, though. He’d come up with an excuse to keep Felix away from there, since he didn’t want him to see his mother like this. Worst case scenario, he would put two and two together.

Felix had no idea, though. He didn’t question it so much, because he didn’t want to make Hyunjin uncomfortable asking too many questions. It didn’t matter that much, anyway. As long as they had a good time together, he wasn’t going to complain about anything. He was already happy to have found a new friend.

Today they were sat in a booth at the most popular diner in town. They’d gone on a walk and gotten hungry, so decided to get a burger and some fries for dinner before heading home again.

It was pretty chill and the both of them were just talking and laughing as they ate, not really caring about the people around them. Now and then they checked to see if they were getting any weird looks, but so far people seemed to think they were just friends. Like we are, Felix thought to himself. We are just friends and we will be just that until… He didn’t wanna think about the end of that sentence. For now they were friends.

“I like this burger,” Hyunjin said, taking another large bite of the food. There was some ketchup in the corner of his mouth and Felix thought it looked adorable. Hyunjin’s face was so flawless otherwise and seeing this small blemish on it reminded him of seeing a little baby that has their food around their mouth.

“Mine’s pretty good too,” Felix commented, dipping a fry in ketchup. “I love the food they serve here, it’s all amazing,” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. He was poking at his half-eaten burger as he listened to Felix talk.

“If you think about it, life is kind of like fast food,” Felix started, not sure why he was even starting this analogy.

“How so?” Hyunjin asked, looking up at the freckled boy.

“Well, you start the road hungry and longing for the food, and then when it’s finally presented to you, you eat it fast and a lot of it, because you’re scared you won’t be able to still your hunger fast enough,” he explained. “But when you’re finished you feel gross and like you’ve eaten too much too fast. You should’ve enjoyed it more and taken more time, but you didn’t because you were too eager,” Felix concluded. “You’re eager to start life as a baby, then when you get the chance you live it to the fullest and forget to enjoy every moment. You wanna make sure you utilize every minute, but forget to cherish it. When your life is over, you have regrets because even though you had so much time, you didn’t do all the things you wanted to do, and even if you did, you didn’t enjoy them,” he stuffed another fry in his mouth before he could say more.

“Woah,” Hyunjin said, looking genuinely surprised.

“That was dumb, I’m sorry,” Felix said, looking down at his food in embarrassment. “I ramble too much.”

“No, no,” Hyunjin stopped him. “You don’t, it actually makes a lot of sense. You’re right. People are often so scared of not having enough time that they forget to enjoy every single moment. They are so obsessed with being practical that they forget to stop and look around every now and then. Just climbing that mountain in one go without looking back, or around them and when they reach the top they realize they’re exhausted and didn’t get to enjoy the climb,” Felix’s mouth fell open.

“Woah, that was a lot more impressive than mine,” he chuckled quietly. “I compared life to a hamburger and here you are pulling out a whole mountain climbing analogy,” Hyunjin blushed a little, looking at his hands, which Felix found adorable. “I loved it.”

“Really?” Hyunjin asked, snapping his head up.

“Definitely,” Felix said. “You should write lyrics. I’m sure you’d be great at it.”

“I doubt I’m as good as you,” Hyunjin chuckled.

“Everyone is better than me,” Felix argued.

“False, you’re the best.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” Hyunjin wasn’t ready to give up whatsoever, Felix noticed, so he frowned.

“Hmph,” he said, pushing his bottom lip forward and pouting.

“Did you just hmph at me?” Hyunjin brought out a breathy laugh.

“Seems like it,” Felix muttered in disdain, wanting the older boy to just agree with him instead of arguing.

“Adorable,” Hyunjin said, smirking a little before grabbing another fry and dipping it in the ketchup. Felix looked at him with a bit of shock. He hadn’t expected that for an answer and clearly Hyunjin hadn’t expected to say it out loud. In his hurry to move on from this conversation, he accidentally knocked over the little bowl with ketchup in it, making it splatter against his white sweater.

“Fuck,” the older boy cursed, grabbing a napkin and staring at the drops of red sauce decorating the white wool.

“Don’t wipe it,” Felix quickly said. “It’ll only make it worse!”

“This is my favourite sweater,” Hyunjin said dramatically. “And now it’s all ruined, oh no!” He pouted as he carefully dabbed at the fabric, making Felix giggle a little.

“What are you laughing at?” Hyunjin questioned with a fake-strict tone. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No, no,” Felix quickly recovered. “I’m not I-”

“This is tragic,” Hyunjin continued. “My favourite sweater is spotted with ketchup and there’s nothing I can do to save it right now. This is a disaster, Lee!” His dramatic performance made the whole situation even more laughable and only seconds later the two were wheezing.

People surrounding them gave them weird looks as they took deep breaths, trying to recover from this moment. Felix took a large sip from his coke as Hyunjin wiped his face with the napkin. His face had been splattered with ketchup too in the process and the two simply hadn’t noticed due to the sweater incident.

“Ready to head home?” Felix asked, clearing off the table by putting the trash and leftovers away. “I’m sure I can find something to fix your sweater,” he looked up at Hyunjin, hoping he’d take up on the offer. He really wanted to spend even more time with him. Just the diner and the walk hadn’t been enough, he craved more time with his new friend.

“That would be amazing,” Hyunjin sighed in relief. “I don’t think we have anything at home that could fix this mess,” he looked at Felix and for a moment the latter saw the same hopeful glace the he’d just had a second ago. He nodded and grabbed Hyunjin’s sleeve, pulling on it gently.

“C’mon, let’s go then,” they walked back to Felix’s home, in hopes they could fix the mess that was Hyunjin’s sweater at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You house is kind of starting to feel like my second home,” Hyunjin commented as he walked into Felix’s house. He knew his parents well enough now and the same went for his siblings. Despite being absolutely ignorant, they were pretty nice. However, he found it sad that none of them would accept their son for who he really was if they’d find out.

But then again, he used to be like that too. He used to think these moles were the worst thing ever, and yet here he was hanging out with one on a daily base. He was nice, he wasn’t so different from the rest.

On second thought, yes, he was different from the rest. Felix was far superior to anyone Hyunjin had ever met. He was friendly, nice, funny, sweet and also beautiful. He was the purest person he’d ever had the chance to encounter. That really put things into perspective. Why judge someone for who they fall in love with, when it’s truly their character that matters? Why would you want this sweet boy dead when there’s so many murderers in the world? Then again, Hyunjin was a murderer himself. Not yet, but would be soon enough.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Felix said, smiling. “It doesn’t feel weird to have your around, almost natural,” the two sprinted upstairs, like they always did. Felix’s parents didn’t even question it anymore. They were so used to having Hyunjin over. “C’mon, sit down on the ledge of the bath,” Felix said as he dragged the taller boy into the bathroom. Hyunjin obeyed and sat down as he waited for the younger boy to work his magic on his beloved sweater.

He’d been dramatic back in the diner – something he was known for – but he’d really been sad about his sweater. It was his favourite after all. Felix came back with some stuff that looked like some kind of detergent and a clean cloth.

“I’m going to carefully dab this onto the stains,” Felix said before kneeling in front of Hyunjin. This was a new position for Hyunjin and he wasn’t used to having the boy this close to him in such a way. He tilted his head back slightly as Felix leaned even closer with the cloth in his hand, slowly dabbing the detergent onto the stains. He clearly hadn’t noticed their proximity as he was too focused on what he was doing.

“Almost there,” he mumbled, taking care of the last few spots as he worked his way up to the collar, where the very last drops had reached. Hyunjin had a very hard time moving his face away and could now smell Felix really well.

He smelled amazing; he’d never smelled anything like it before. He tried to be subtle about the smelling but that was hard. One wrong move and their faces would touch.

“Gotta be more careful next time,” Felix said as he turned his face up towards the taller boy. He clearly hadn’t expected to be this close to him, as he audibly inhaled and held that breath.

For a moment they sat there, eye to eye. None of them said anything, scared of saying the wrong thing, or making a wrong move. Hyunjin studied Felix’s face. His cheeks flushed pink as his brown eyes stay trained on his own. The freckles on his cheeks and nose were even more defined than they were from a distance and his hair fell in his eyes a little. He was the most beautiful human Hyunjin had ever seen from up-close. Then, after what felt like hours, Felix averted his gaze.

“Should’ve just let you take it off, that would’ve been easier,” he muttered, cheeks still flushed. The statement seemed to have more than one meaning, assuming from the way he’d said it.

“Maybe I should,” Hyunjin agreed. “May be easier anyway,” Felix nodded and Hyunjin took off his sweater, leaving him in a tanktop. He felt a little exposed as his eyes darted around the room. When he finally calmed down a little, he found Felix’s eyes resting on him. He bit his lip nervously, as his eyes scanned the figure in front of him. When he noticed that Hyunjin had caught him, he nervously looked at his feet, his face bright red.

Felix got up from his kneeling position, getting ready to walk away, probably to get rid of the tension. Hyunjin felt the cold air hit his bare arms, feeling like any kind of warmth he’d once felt was taken from him when Felix got up.

Without thinking, or even registering what he was doing, his hand shot up and grabbed Felix arm. The boy looked up in surprise and before either of then noticed what was happening, Hyunjin had pulled him back towards him, smashing his lips against the younger boy’s.

He heard a gasp from Felix’s lips, but it was only a brief one. Quickly after, his soft lips melted together with Hyunjin’s and they got caught in a kiss that was more intense than anything either of them had ever experienced.

Felix fell down to his knees and draped his arms around Hyunjin’s neck as the latter’s wrapped themselves around Felix’s small waist.

For a moment they didn’t care about anything in the world. All they perceived was the sparks igniting deep inside them as their lips touched. It was everything and more.

[goodlucktai]

when the bones are good

@natsumeweek 2021 day 4; sweet/sour

read on ao3

(previous part)

x

Yousuke Takuma looks like he regrets inviting the Natori brothers into his house. They tend to have that effect on people.

“I shouldn’t be reading these,” he says in a very calm tone. “These are the sacred property of your clan. They shouldn’t even have left your property.”

“It’s not like anyone is going to miss them,” Shuuichi replies plainly. “My grandfather still thinks I can’t get past the locks on the storehouse door. Even Takashi can get past those, and he’s eight.”

“Sometimes I just ask Urihime to get me the keys,” Takashi admits. “She doesn’t get along with grandfather so she likes having an excuse to take stuff from him.”

It’s a nice way of saying ‘she fucking hates him’ but Takashi is a nice person. 

The kid is chronically honest. Always has been. He’ll strive to frame it kindly, but the truth is all you’re getting from him. It can be annoying, but mostly it’s pretty funny, and at the end of the day Shuuichi is glad that Takashi doesn’t feel the need to lie or make up stories. Even about the really unbelievable things. He just says what he’s thinking, because he knows it’s the truth, and his big brother will back him up if anyone gives him any trouble.

Shuuichi doesn’t have a lot in his life to be proud of, but he’s proud of that. 

The right people don’t care if a little kid tells ghost stories, anyway. Hinata thinks they’re great. She keeps threatening to write them all down and adapt them into her first screenplay.

Takuma puts his face in his hands. Across the room, Tsukiko giggles, clearly not as focused on her homework as she would like for the rest of them to believe she is. Ginro sets a tray of tea down on the table and gives Shuuichi a stern look for having the audacity to stress her master out so soon after his injury. Chastened, Shuuichi lifts his hands in apology. 

“If you really don’t want to look at them, I’ll put them away,” he says. “But I trust you not to—run off with them and patent them under your name, or whatever it is you think I should think you’re going to do.”

That works a huff of wry laughter out of the man, and he looks up at Shuuichi with a warm expression. It’s the way Shuuichi thinks his dad might have looked at him if he’d been born a proper son.

“Lunch first,” Takuma says, “then we’ll take a look at this paper magic of yours. Though if a couple of little geniuses like yourselves can’t figure it out, I don’t know what you think this old man will be able to do.” 

He adds the last bit with a smile for Takashi, who beams up at him from where he’s been not-so-subtly sneaking Jinbe rice crackers. Jinbe is the most unsettling of Takuma’s three familiars, but he’s also—to Shuuichi’s resignation—Takashi’s complete favorite. It appears to be mutual.

“You’ve kept your promise, haven’t you?” Takuma asks after a moment. “About staying away from those meetings?” 

Shuuichi sighs performatively. “Of course I have. It’s not like I could bring my brother with me, and he’d hardly just stay home. He’s very disobedient.”

Takashi scoffs. “Hinata-neesan says I’m your most redeeming quality.”

“Nowhere in there does she mention ‘obedient,’” Shuuichi replies without missing a beat, and grins when Takashi makes a face at him. 

“Alright, alright,” Takuma says, laughing properly now. “As long as you’re keeping your word, I don’t care about why.” He pushes himself up to his feet, moving a little stiffly, and smiles at his daughter when Tsukiko hurries over to take his arm. “There should be some margherita pizzas in the chest freezer. I bought them on a whim the last time I was at the supermarket. Should we try them?”

Of course they should. Takashi scoops the last of the cookies off the table and piles them neatly in Jinbe’s greedy hands, even though Takuma sighs and makes noises about spoiled shiki. Tsukiko gives the disappearing treats a bit of an odd look, but she seems more fascinated to be in the company of spirits than unnerved.

Shuuichi is beginning to think that his relatives are just bad people. 

“By the way, have you made any progress on,” Takuma starts, and finishes with a nod towards Shuuichi’s arm. 

The lizard is scurrying around in busy little circles, as if it’s feeling restless. Shuuichi covers it with his hand, something that sometimes works in calming it down, like putting a blanket over a bird cage. In this case, it crawls onto his hand instead and resumes scurrying there. Weird little thing.

“I still have no idea what it is,” Shuuichi says ruefully, “but Takashi is trying to teach it tricks.”

Takuma stares at him, and then at his brother. Takashi offers, “It knows ‘roll over’!”

“Go,” Shuuichi’s mentor says firmly, pointing them down the hall. “Kitchen. Lunch. We’ll discuss this later.”

A knock on the door interrupts their noisy exodus, and Takuma frowns. Clearly, he isn’t expecting company. The amiable man’s posture tenses as he gestures for Tsukiko, Shuuichi and Takashi to stay put. Ginro and Benihimo flank him on his way to the front door. 

Exorcists tend to be a paranoid bunch.

But with a dangerous ayakashi on the loose, Shuuichi thinks, with a prickle of unease all his own, maybe it’s better safe than sorry. 

“Urihime, go collect all our scrolls and put them in my bag,” Shuuichi says swiftly. “Sasago, stay right here.”

His shiki both nod, and Urihime disappears. 

Tsukiko is picking up on the atmosphere, even if her eyes aren’t the same as theirs. Even normal humans have a sixth-sense sense for certain things and it’s not to be taken lightly. She shifts nervously, and something in Shuuichi’s chest goes warm when he realizes she’s put her arm around Takashi’s shoulders protectively. 

“Seiji?” Takuma asks. His voice is raised in surprise, carrying from the genkan. “What on earth are you doing here?” 

Relief and dread fight each other in the pit of Shuuichi’s stomach. Dread wins. He’s only encountered Matoba Seiji twice, once at the summit he inadvertently followed Amasaki to, and then again in passing for a few minutes in the woods, but those brief meetings were enough. 

Even normal humans have a sixth-sense for certain things. Usually danger. 

“Tsukiko,” he says casually, “can you and Takashi go get lunch started?” 

To Tsukiko’s eternal credit, she doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Takashi, will you help me? Dad buys so much weird stuff when he goes shopping that it might be hard to find the pizzas.”

Takashi gives Shuuichi a look that says, very clearly, that he knows when he’s being fobbed off. Shuuichi ruffles his hair in a way that ruins the careful work Sumi-san (the only member of the Natori house staff who will still talk to either of them) put in that morning with half a dozen bobby pins. Now it flops into Takashi’s eyes and he makes an outraged sound, reaching up to shove Shuuichi’s hand away. 

“I’ll fill you in later,” Shuuichi says. “Promise.”

That’s enough for Takashi. Mollified, he trails after Tsukiko without argument, and with only one curious look over his shoulder. Jinbe drifts after them watchfully, and probably only partly in hopes of more snacks. Sasago remains at Shuuichi’s side, a stalwart presence that he’s come to depend on. 

It’s Shuuichi’s job to keep the monsters away. Whatever form they might take. 

Takuma looks irritated as he leads Seiji into the sitting room. With a nod of his head, he invites Shuuichi inside, too. The tea tray from before has vanished, a new one sitting in its stead, and Shuuichi notes with some inward amusement that Ginro didn’t lay out any snacks this time. 

“Well, what do you know,” Seiji says, as enigmatic as ever. “Shuuichi-san, I never would have expected to find you here.”

It’s impossible to tell what this guy is actually thinking. 

“Did you come by to check on Takuma-san, too?” Shuuichi asks. He has to work to keep his tone from biting, but he manages it.

“In a sense,” Seiji replies politely. “I was hoping to find out more about the ayakashi that attacked him. Going after it before it hurts anyone else is an exorcist’s job, don’t you think?” 

It’s bait, as clear and obvious as a cricket dangling from some fishing line. If he were still the bitter brat he used to be, maybe Shuuichi would have risen to it fiercely, like a tide, surging and crashing against Seiji’s unchanging stone facade. He would have said, ‘You don’t care about helping people. You called Takuma-san weak. You’re just looking for someone to use.’

Which is all perfectly true, and perfectly justifiable reasons to not want to drink tea with this guy and discuss the differences in their conventions, but it’s not like calling Seiji out would do any good. It probably wouldn’t even be satisfying. He would just gaze at Shuuichi with that stupid cat-that-caught-the-canary expression and make him feel like an idiot for existing.

He gets enough of that at home, thanks. 

“You’re right,” Shuuichi says mildly, with a smile of his own, “that is an exorcist’s job.”

Takuma eventually tells Seiji what he wants to know, clearly having given up on keeping the teenager away from exorcist summits and dangerous ayakashi, but he does afterword his information with warnings to be careful. 

Urihime sets Shuuichi’s bookbag beside him and he nods his thanks. Seiji clocks the two-second interaction with sharp eyes. 

“Look at that! You have a servant?” His eyes follow her when she moves to stand next to Sasago, next to both of Takuma’s shiki along the side of the room, and he whistles. “Two servants. Pretending to be an exorcist on the sly, are we, Shuuichi-san?”

More bait. Another cricket. Shuuichi sips from his teacup. “They belong to my family. I don’t know why they follow me around. They must be bored.”

All of which is true, technically. Takuma’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline, but he doesn’t comment. Sasago turns her head very slowly, and her eyes, hidden beneath their blindfold, seem to bore into the side of his head. Urihime is less subtle and outright hisses at him. 

“Hmm, jury seems to be out on that,” Seiji says, and laughs. 

The sitting room door rattles open and Tsukiko peers through. Shuuichi’s fists clench in his lap, because sure enough, Takashi is right behind her, his brown eyes peeking curiously into the room. 

“Sorry, papa, but is your guest staying for lunch, too? Only, I don’t know how many pizzas to put in.”

“No, no, I couldn’t impose,” Seiji says. “I’ll get going and leave you guys to enjoy the rest of your afternoon. It looks as though you were having a pleasant time before I barged in.”

We were, Shuuichi thinks, but he keeps it to himself. He and Takuma stand up to see Seiji out. Seiji pauses when he spots Takashi behind Tsukiko, and his amicable expression takes on an edge that Shuuichi can’t define. He looks more engaged now than he did during the entire conversation with Takuma. 

“Hello again,” Seiji says in a pleasant tone. 

“Excuse me?” Shuuichi interjects loudly. “‘Again’?”

“Hi,” Takashi replies at length. His gaze is fixed on Seiji’s face as though there’s something interesting happening there. Jinbe drifts like a shark behind him, mask pointed towards Seiji suspiciously.

“As I thought, you have good eyes,” Seiji remarks, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He looks across the room at Urihime and Sasago, down at the bag by Shuuichi’s feet, at the lizard mark curled up on his arm, and then finally up at Shuuichi himself. Smiling widely, he adds, “I look forward to seeing what becomes of the Natori clan.”

Takuma escorts him out properly, and Tsukiko goes back to deal with the pizzas. Alone save for a scattering of trusted ayakashi, Shuuichi kneels and beckons his brother over. 

“C’mere, squirt.”

Takashi crosses the room to him. Standing in front of Shuuichi like this, they’re almost eye-to-eye. 

“Have you met that guy before?” Shuuichi asks. 

“Only once. It was when you had classroom duties and Hinata-neesan took me to the 7-Eleven to get chicken nuggets,” Takashi explains. “We met Matoba-san while we were walking. He said he was your friend.”

“I don’t have any friends.” 

Takashi nods very seriously.

“That’s what Hinata-neesan said. She took out her pepper spray and waved it at him. I think Matoba-san thought that was funny, but he said he didn’t mean to upset her, and he left. It was the right thing to do, probably, because he didn’t have any spirits with him, and Urihime was getting annoyed that he was talking to me.”

Shuuichi feels like he’s aged thirty years in the past three minutes. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough that there are spots in his vision when he looks up again. 

“Takashi, listen,” he says, “stay away from him. If he ever approaches you for any reason, tell me about it, okay? Promise?”

He holds out his pinky. Takashi rolls his eyes, much too grown up at eight years old for things like this, but he hooks his finger around Shuuichi’s gamely. 

“Whoever lies has to swallow a thousand needles,” they recite together, and then Shuuichi ruffles Takashi’s hair again just to make him squawk. 

“Sorry about that, boys,” Takuma says when he comes back. 

He pauses in the doorway and his bandaged face creases in a smile to see them rough-housing playfully, Takashi struggling to free himself from Shuuichi’s headlock, the tense atmosphere from before banished like an errant spirit.

“Bring those scrolls with you to the kitchen,” Takuma says warmly, “and I’ll help however I can.”

Seiji can think whatever he wants about Takuma, but the man is clever. By the time Shuuichi and Takashi are ready to leave, packed up with a leftover pizza and some cookies for the road, they’ve puzzled out the array that they were stuck on and Shuuichi managed to make a paperman fly. 

Takuma had looked over the notes he’d taken ruefully. He couldn’t help but absorb some of the practices for himself as he helped the boys study them, and clearly he felt guilty about that. Shuuichi leaned forward across the table and caught his eye. 

I trust you, he wanted to say. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father. But there was absolutely no way Shuuichi could say something like that. Not out loud, with his mouth, where someone might hear him. 

“Clan trade or not, if you’re ever in danger and any of this paper magic could help you, I want you to use it,” he said instead. “No secret is worth keeping if it means you get hurt. Right, Takashi?” 

“Right,” Takashi piped up, his little voice clear and bright in that sunny kitchen. He was watching intently as his paperman wobbled precariously across the table, trying to carry a note to a delighted Tsukiko, and didn’t bother looking up even as he added, “It’s just paper, ojisan.”

“Yeah, ojisan,” Shuuichi teased laughingly. 

Takuma rolled his eyes, but gave in with a smile, as if he couldn’t help but be charmed by their noisy, obtrusive presence in his home. For a second, even though he was clearly the one who had gone out of his way to help them—wasting an entire day working with them on magic he didn’t fully approve of them studying in the first place, an entire day he should have spent recuperating—Takuma looked as though they were the ones who had done him a favor, just by being there. 

“What did Seiji mean when he said you had good eyes?” Shuuichi will remember to ask his brother a little later, when they’re walking home. 

“Oh, I guess because I noticed the weird mark on his face,” Takashi says. 

“Weird mark? What did it look like?”

Takashi hums thoughtfully, glancing around. He trots off the road a little bit to pick up a stick, then crouches in the dirt and starts drawing a strange, crooked symbol. Shuuichi leans over him to watch.

It’s not a symbol he’s ever seen before. Yokai writing, if he had to guess. 

“What does it mean?” he asks the shiki. 

Sasago drifts over and inspects the drawing, her face giving nothing away. 

“‘Something owed,’” she translates after a moment. “I think the closest human word would be ‘debt’.”

“Huh,” Shuuichi says. He offers Takashi a hand and hauls the kid back upright, frowning thoughtfully. “And you said it was on his face?” 

“Yup, above his right eye. Didn’t you see it?” A thread of anxiety works its way into Takashi’s voice that Shuuichi is quick to smother. 

“I didn’t have my glasses on,” he says smoothly, “so I must have missed it. You know your eyes are better than mine.”

Takashi grins up at him, appeased, and they spend the rest of the walk playing with bits of talisman paper. It’s habit by now to keep their pockets stuffed full of scraps. Shuuichi manages to make a couple of them fly, and Takashi claps his hands together in glee every time.

To anyone who might be watching, it probably looks like the wind is catching the scraps and lifting them out of their hands instead of the shaky first steps of magic it really is. There won’t be anything to question about the sight of two brothers, taking their time getting home to a place where no one is waiting for them, laughing and jumping as they try to catch those floating pieces of paper.

[homeformyheart]

Oh gosh the "A whisper in the ear" for Mason and Brooks pleeaase? 💕💕

thank you soso! this came together so fast 🥰 I really do love their dynamic. there are a couple small callbacks to things that happened in my others fics with these two: menage and dinner date.

author’s note: these prompts are so cute and thank you for requesting! this might be my favorite mason that I’ve written thus far. hope you all enjoy! copyright: all characters, except the oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – mason x nb!detective (brooklyn kingston) rating/warnings: 16+; swearing based on/prompt: The way you said “I love you.” // 14. A whisper in the ear word count: 1.2k summary: mason willingly accompanies brooklyn to a sci-fi convention.

where to?

a sci-fi convention was the last fucking place mason wanted to be. bright lights, noisy gadgets, weird music, and the smell of humans and supernaturals crowding every one of his senses. it was far too easy to forget that they were walking around in one of the largest spaces available in the city. with only three exits. and no windows.

exactly the opposite of the kind of environment mason enjoyed.

he shuffled closer to brooklyn, her proximity dulling the raging headache pounding in his skull by more than a fraction. even surrounded by sensory overload, his fingers didn’t twitch for a cigarette. brooklyn’s scent and occasional touch was enough. he had stopped wondering why a long time ago – who was he to complain about something that provided him relief?

he glanced sideways at brooklyn, who was currently smiling ear-to-ear and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her this excited. he noticed the bizarre, disorienting lights from the neighboring booths dancing around in her eyes, a soft blush on her cheeks, a thin sheen of sweat mottling wisps of hair against her forehead underneath a ridiculous baseball hat.

the hat in question said “police ‘public call’ box” but brooks had told him it didn’t have anything to do with her job but was referencing a show about… time travel, was it?

he couldn’t remember the specifics, but he did know that he’d never seen brooks wear a baseball cap in the two years that he’s known her. although, he supposes he never thought he’d be walking around a crowded space like this of his own volition. maybe he should’ve let nat come to this thing with brooklyn.

a few weeks earlier

brooklyn sped into the living room at a pace very unlike her usual poised, professional demeanor. “nat, the sci-fi convention i told you about will take place in the city! i was able to get two passes, would you like to come?”

before nat could respond, mason had slinked over to the two of them. “why wouldn’t you ask me to go, sweetheart?”

felix slowly glanced back and forth between them. “are you… volunteering to go to a very crowded and noisy event?”

mason ignored felix’s bait as brooklyn turned to him, stunned. they had gotten a lot closer over the past two years – at least, she’d like to think so judging by the amount of time they spent together without mason making sexual advances – but she would never have predicted he’d willingly subject himself to sensory overload.

“there’s going to be thousands of people there. it’ll be loud and i didn’t think it’d be your scene,” she said softly.

the knowing and understanding look on her face made his chest itch and he scratched at it absentmindedly. “what do i keep telling you?”

her smile brightened in a way that lit up the rest of her face and made that itch from before start to sting. “right. you go where i go.”

“you will be on-duty to protect the detective, mason. this is not a vacation. remember that,” ava warned.

mason had just given ava a look – not even bothering to retort with one of his remarks about how he can protect the detective and have fun with them too. he hadn’t had the urge to make those types of comments regarding brooklyn in a very long time.

his brow furrowed in thought, but whatever it was flit away quickly as the line seemed to move and brooklyn stepped eagerly forward, creating a small gap between them. he glared at the unacceptable amount of space between them. he stepped up next to her and slid an arm around her back, resting his hand on her hip and gently stroking the fabric of her shirt with his thumb.

“what can i do for you, little lady?” the person behind the booth – a forgettable face, in mason’s opinion – asked.

the frowns on both their faces appeared simultaneously.

“i may be ‘little,’ but i’m not a lady,” brooklyn said bluntly. mason noticed she was holding a small booklet in her hands with illustrations of superheroes or supernaturals or something like that on the cover.

“sure, whatever you say,” the man said quickly, but the flick of their eyes upward in a half-roll indicated otherwise. mason heard him mutter “fucking millennials” before plastering on a fake smile and turning back to brooklyn.

“what would you like? an autograph? a picture?”

“um,” brooklyn hesitated before answering, her voice unusually meek. her arms had already begun the motion of handing him her comic before she pulled them back. “a picture? if that’s okay.”

she moved to the other side of the booth after handing her phone to mason to stand next to the asshole, who very quickly wrapped his arm around brooklyn’s shoulder and pulled her in. mason raised the phone and took a few pictures quickly, but knew the smile on brooklyn’s face was forced and the excitement from before was nowhere to be seen.

she thanked the man and quickly walked over to where mason was standing off to the side, tucking her phone immediately away when he handed it to her.

“you okay?” he asked quietly.

“they do say that you should never meet your idols,” she chuckled, but the sound was hollow. “i’m sorry, i know this is all too much for you. we should just go.”

“come with me,” he said brusquely, grabbing her hand and heading back to where the asshole was currently taking pictures with a group of fans.

he reached for the comic in her hands and slammed it on the table loud enough that the man flinched in surprise.

“hey asshole. when someone asks you not to call them something, they’re asking for the bare minimum as a person and you will fucking respect that, got it?”

the man’s eyes widened and he swallowed nervously before nodding.

“good, you owe her an autograph.” mason pushed the comic toward him and glared as the man quickly signed it.

he didn’t see the awed look on brooklyn’s face as he handed her the signed comic and ushered her away from the booth. she took his hand and led him to the next aisle over, where the booths at the end seemed to have the least number of people.

it was still way too many for his taste, but he kept that to himself. holding her hand helped.

she looked up at him searchingly, eyes hopeful as she raised a hand to his cheek. he raised an eyebrow at her quizzically, whether it was at her behavior or at how his heartbeat seemed to suddenly quicken, he wasn’t sure.

she leaned in and mason stayed perfectly still. it didn’t seem like she was going in for a kiss – and he wasn’t going to presume – she was on her tiptoes and moving toward his ear. the softest whisper breezed past his ear, goosebumps gently rippling down his arms at the bit of sunshine she breathed out before settling back down on her feet.

he heard her. he always did.

she didn’t need him to say anything back because he was going to need time and space to figure things out. but she was still smiling at him like he was the fucking moon on a dark night guiding her way home.

he felt himself return her smile – the muscle movement clunky and unfamiliar – and hers grew even bigger.

“where to next, sweetheart?”

* * * * * taglist: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; @pearlsandsteel; one-off: @honourlight; @tpcignits

[murder-raven13]

My Haikyuu Ships pt. 2

A/N: This is the continuation of my Haikyuu ships and the reason I ship them. 

Warning(s): cursing, somehow these kind of turned into small relationship headcanons for some of them, not proofread, looooong

Word Count: 2,373

Part 1 Part 3

Yaku x Lev

Honestly, the height different is a big deal for me. So fucking cute, like...just what? Plus, Yaku is a grumpy smol and Lev is a happy toll and I just-

But Yaku is grumpy chaotic and Lev is puppy [and a little oblivious] chaotic and them together is just adorable chaotic. Lev irritates Yaku so much in the beginning [which, like, understandable; Lev’s a cocky idiot], but manages to learn how to deal with him. Develops an exasperated fondness for the giant. Lev learns how to control himself a little because of Yaku [this is partly because now Lev has a singular target for his mischief]. They’re just so cute and Yaku is so done [was highkey mad at himself when he caught feelings]. Lev was definitely to type to fall in love at first sight. 

Suga x Oikawa

Okay, Okay, so like I don’t know how this one started for me. But I love them, okay? They don’t like each other at first because they’re rivals, not just because they’re on different teams but because they’re both setters. But then Oikawa also thinks Suga is unfairly pretty [who doesn’t?] and Suga returns the sentiment [the level of pretty in this relationship should be illegal; it has reached critical mass]. And then Oikawa finds that Suga is an instigating little gremlin who physically abuses people as a form of affection. And Suga finds that Oikawa is super dedicated and a literal perfect director when it comes to people [he can literally make anyone sing any tune he wants with his smile]. So, these two get along like a house on fire. Two manipulative meanies. They get into so much mischief together [Iwaizumi swears he’s going to kill them or himself]. But they also are just really soft. Like, Oikawa will burrow himself into Suga’s side no matter where there are or what position they’re in [clingy baby]. And Suga will bury his hands in Oikawa’s sweater whenever they’re cold [loves the way Oikawa will shriek if he touches his skin with his cold hands]. They leave sticky notes in each other’s bags or random places for the other to find [eventually] with little compliments or things on them. Just, they’re conniving, adorable bastards and I hate them. 

Terushima x Daichi

This is another one where I don’t know where the fuck it came from. I’m not even sure I have a reason behind this other than Terushima being a smug asshole and Daichi having none of it. Terushima is a ball of reckless energy and he doesn’t take anything seriously despite being ridiculously intelligent [boy is in Class 7]. And Daichi, bless his soul, is a dad. All he does is take shit seriously and chorale reckless idiots onto the right path. So, when they get together, Terushima ensures that Daichi lets loose and doesn’t forget to take care of himself [by making sure he’s not too stressed or overworking himself]. And Daichi is, like, all of Terushima’s impulse control. Honestly the only reason Terushima doesn’t die. So, they keep each other on track and make sure that each is happy and doing their best. Just a very chill, well-balanced couple. 

Ushijima x Tendou

These are both my babies and I cannot with them. Their cuteness hurts me. Ushijima is so stoic and so single-mindedly dedicated to the things that matter to him and the list of things that matter to him is short: volleyball, his family, and Tendou. That’s it. Man is legit just completely dedicated to Tendou, no questions asked, would help him bury a body. But he sucks at communication and showing his emotions. And that’s never been a problem with Tendou. Tendou never got tired of talking to him, never stopped trying to include him, was never bothered by how little Ushijima talked and Ushijima literally loves this man so much. And Tendou, my adorable little baby, was so lonely and so insecure. He expected everyone to judge him for his appearance or to leave him because he’s annoying or a freak. But Ushijima literally does not care about Tendou’s looks not being conventional; he thinks he’s attractive all the same and has no problem telling Tendou this. And Ushijima has made a sustained effort to interact with Tendou’s interests because he knows it makes Tendou happy [Tendou talks to him about his interests, so Ushijima makes sure he knows all of them so these conversations can happen]. Just, they’re so perfect, I can’t.

Tendou x Semi

Big, energetic Tendou with grumpy, stoic Semi. Gives me life. Semi acts irritated with Tendou’s antics, but he loves them, really. And Tendou knows it, too. Teasing little shit; Semi never gets a break. Tendou helps Semi whenever he’s feeling down because he’s not doing as well as he hoped [Semi wants to be the best but being the best is hard]. And Semi helps Tendou remember that opinions don’t matter; that he likes Tendou for all those weird, annoying qualities Tendou sometimes hates. They’re very sweet and, surprisingly, Semi is the one that initiates most serious physical contact [he initiates their first kiss, their first real hug, their first cuddle session, their first time, all of it] because Tendou wants to make sure that everything is going at Semi’s pace since Semi isn’t as comfortable with touch or intimacy. A very sweet, yet playful couple. 

Shirabu x Goshiki

The small, itty-bitty amount of information I’ve been given about these boys is criminal. But I’ve seen enough to ship this. Goshiki is overzealous and a people pleaser; he just wants to be good enough to be great. One of the ones that wants to prove himself more than anything else. Praise is received extremely well. Shirabu, on the other hand, wants the opposite. He doesn’t want to be the best, he doesn’t want to be the one everyone relies on. He wants to be more of an invisible support beam, a minor cog in an overall grand and powerful machine. He’s not very forthcoming with his emotion, unless that emotion is annoyance or disdain. Goshiki tries to be cool, but can’t really keep his emotions in check very well. So, they, as a couple, play a kind of tug-of-war. Goshiki constantly pulls for more and Shirabu constantly pulls for less, which keeps the two of them balanced, putting out just enough that they’re constantly improving, just in subtle ways instead of grandiose ones. Shirabu tries to pretend he’s not a softie, but he is [only for Goshiki, though, who basks in the little moments Shirabu lets him have of uninhabited affection, whose rarity makes them worth the world to Goshiki]. 

Nishinoya x Tsukishima

This one came about because of the lowkey abusive relationship Noya has with Tsukishima. Noya is like 5′2 and Tsukki is like a whole foot taller. Yet Noya can and will stand up to Tsukki and let him know when he’s being an ass, physical methods used as necessary [most of this is limited to hitting his side or messing with his glasses if Tsukki’s face is within reach]. Noya will also mock Tsukki, playfully, and reminds him of his age, which is good for Tsukki because he’s chronically withering inside his little tsundre shell. Noya is also highkey really supportive. Whenever Tsukki does something good, no matter how subtle it is, Noya is there to give him recognition for it, which, again, reminds Tsukki that he can be nicer and that Noya can see him even when he’s trying to hide. And Noya has fun with Tsukki because he keeps him on his toes; they have a fun relationship built of just the right amount of trust and ‘lets remember to have fun’.

Daichi x Kuroo

My captain babes. Daichi and Kuroo both have very forthcoming personalities. But Kuroo is much better at remembering that it’s important he acts goofy and stupid sometimes because he’s a student, a kid, and carry a lot of stress. Daichi isn’t so good at this. He’s gotten so used to dealing with reckless children that need him to be a serious iron fist that he’s forgotten that he needs to let go sometimes and that that’s okay. Kuroo helps him remember this. And their relationship is built around understanding. When one needs help or a little space to deal with their serious stuff, the other is right there to be the pillar they need. If they need to goof around and forget a little, they’re there and prepped with hot chocolate and bad trivia games that Daichi sucks at. When they’re both stressed under piles of work, they never forget the other. They’ll sit next to each other at the table, on the bed, on the couch, the floor, with their legs or their shoulders or their feet lightly touching, just as a reminder that they’re there. If one falls asleep, the other will save their work and haul them to bed because sleeping slumped over isn’t any good. Out of my ships, this is definitely one of the best, in terms of matching and functionality as a serious couple. 

Kuroo x Bokuto

They’re relationship isn’t as serious. Bokuto is a refugee for Kuroo, a place where he can unapologetically turn his brain off. He doesn’t have to be a captain or responsible or the top of his class. He can just be Kuroo and Bokuto has fun with him. They go on adventures and play volleyball together, experimenting with new moves or ideas all the time. Definitely the couple that would regularly go to the amusement park or the fair. Kuroo gives Bokuto his undivided attention whenever they’re together and spoils the hell out of him and Bokuto’s mood swings don’t bother him, he knows what to do. Boys are very committed to each other; they can’t imagine ever not being together because their relationship is just so fun and comfortable. It’s safe and loving, without a doubt, because they are, first and foremost, best friends. 

Yaku x Kuroo

Hated each other at first because their middle school teams were rivals. And Yaku’s a grumpy little gremlin that can be a little too serious sometimes. But that’s just until he relaxes. Once he’s comfortable with people, he gets a lot less serious and just a little less grumpy [he’s an angry smol and my mind cannot be changed]. But he loves Kuroo. Can’t help snorting at Kuroo’s god awful chemistry pickup lines; they’re just that bad. He loves them, though. And he can throw them right back. They have chemistry and physics debates all the time, often while doing something completely non-serious, like Twister or that headband game. Kenma can’t stand being around them because they throw insults at each other like they’re compliments, loving voices and touches and all. Kuroo is always touching Yaku, will literally reach for him completely subconsciously, a fact Yaku mocks him ruthlessly for despite that fact that he always adjusts himself to fit the contact better [because he’s just as clingy as Kuroo, just not as openly]. Sickeningly cute behind closed doors, only mildly affectionate in public. 

Oikawa x Kuroo

A couple that met later in life. I ship them as college students, to be honest. But they would be cute. Kuroo is goofy and a science nerd; Oikawa would alien talk him into a stupor. Iwaizumi is just glad he is no longer the sole participant in Oikawa’s space conversations. These two would casually come up with plans to demolish their opponent’s spirit and have fun doing it. Plot murder together on a regular Tuesday night. Would definitely be able to calm the other down when they began to take shit too far. 

Ushijima x Oikawa

[Can y’all tell I’m a whore for the enemies to lovers trope?]

Ushijima is a huge ball of attractive stoic that doesn’t know how to properly act on his feelings. Has always admired Oikawa as a setter [legit has crushed on this boy since the first time they plated a game together in middle school and Oikawa vowed to beat him]. Ushijima has no problem telling Oikawa how much he admires his playing, his skill, and his determination to win no matter what. Oikawa had no idea in high school that Ushijima’s interactions with him were Ushijima’s way of showing he liked him. He saw it as antagonization because Ushijima thought he was better [Ushijima thought they would have been their best together]. His growing feelings for Ushijima forced Oikawa to face some of his own securities and grow as a person. Had to go through almost an entire identity crisis when he realized he was in love with Ushijima of all people. Iwaizumi wanted to throw his entire phone away Oikawa called him to whine so much. And Oikawa’s lack of understanding Ushijima’s advances forced Ushijima to become more adept at reading others and expressing his own feelings in a concise, clear way. 

Kenma x Yamamoto

This is my favorite Kenma ship and one of my favorite overall ships. Let me tell you why. I did not ship them until season 4 because I didn’t know much about their relationship until then. But Tora and Kenma are another set that didn’t get along at first. Their personalities makes them natural antagonists to the other. Yamamoto is a try hard and always gives 120% in everything he does. Kenma is the type to give a very efficient 70%, meaning that he finds the best ways to get the same results 100% would have gotten, just without as much work put into it. And they have such a grudging respect for the other at first, once they begin to come to terms with the other. That respect grows and becomes the foundation for their relationship. They know that the other is going to do their job and they’re going to do it well. They have complete faith in the other and when they work together, their personalities become magnified. Kenma relies on Tora to be forthcoming and Tora expects Kenma to find the best way to do things. They just, they’re perfect, and I love them. Please, why is there so little content for this ship?

On that note, Imma end this. There will probably most definitely be a part 3 to this because I don’t have free time, but that’s never stopped me. 

[fakeloveaskblog]

aw, sweet loceit in the evening sun. logan is actually super good at explaining healthy relationships and boundaries and stuff actually, i betcha he could recognize abuse no problem

…aye remy! REMY!! HAve you thought about going to that gay bar more often? who knows, maybe you'll encounter someone nice, make friends with like-minded people, hear some disco, the full nine yards. janus might be there, remus might be there. (just look around for the guy with the blue tie, he's a great guy, if he's not wearing it he'll look like he has that blue tie kinda energy! you could totally just get drunk and unload your grievances on him and i bet he won't even mind!)

(Mentions of U!Virgil but I say beforehand when that happens so those who don’t like U!Virgil can enjoy the rest of the fic up until then)

(Words: 4100)

Remy wiped away a tear while looking at your message. The cold light from their phone was the only thing brightening up the room. Virgil was sleeping beside them, his arm was laid around their waist.

"You just like tots gave me the greatest idea! I'm gonna invite Rem out to the bar! It's gonna the funnest thing like ever! Thanks girl!!"

--

2 days later Remus was dangerously close to eating the moss straight from the gay bar's wall. He had been left without supervision for over 15 minutes while he sat outside waiting for his friend to show up, what else was he supposed to do?!

"SSSSUUUP BABE!!!"

Remy came towards him as fast as they could. They had on a short leather skirt, a neon mesh crop top and a leather jacket over it.

They did a little turn "I just like felt a bit glamorous today!" 

Remus choked on his own spit "The world must be a dark place when you aren't feeling glamorous"

"Awwww babbbe"

He sent them a big grin. He'd just put on his usual oversized dysphoria hoodie and matching oversized (:O) sweatpants.

Remus' smile disappeared in an instant as he noticed dark bruises all around Remy's neck. Shades of purple and green collided against each other.

"Ehm did a vampire come and attack you last night? Seriously are you alri-"

"JUst a reminder that it will be loud in there" Remy interrupted.

"Oh. Right!"

He fumbled around in his bag after his headphones. After putting it and a chew necklace on he did a thumbs up. Remy took off their sunglasses and leaned down so they were face to face.

Their face was so close he could feel their breathe against his lips. They put the sunglasses onto him and sent him a soft smile.

“There’s like lots of bright lights too” They explained.

Remus’ heart fluttered. He didn’t understand why “T-thanks”

They moved their arm around his shoulders as they went into the bar. It was past 12 am so some of the daytime furniture had been moved to make place for a dancefloor. There was indeed lots of neon lights flickering all around the bar and fast pop music was blasting through the speakers.

It was hard to see any details of anyone around him so Remus quickly forgot about the bruise. In this lighting it just looked like a weird choker anyway.

A guy with a see through shirt bumped into Remus. He had top surgery scars. For a moment they looked at each other in the most knowing way. The stranger looked away and continued talking with whoever he was with.

Remus whole body seemed to vibrate. There were so many butterflies in his stomach it felt like he was going to puke, in a good way.

Remy sat him down on one of the tall barstools and slumped down right next to him “So whatcha gonna drink?”

“The squashed down organs of my enemies!!!” He shrugged “Soda?”

They burst out into laughter “What? You catholic or something? Not allowed to drink alcohol?”

He slumped in on himself and started fiddling with his necklace “I-I dunno-”

“No. No babe I was just like joking. Like a stupid bitch. It’s okay” They waved at the waiter “Your most alcoholic fruit mix and your finest coca cola please!”

Remus leaned in to whisper “With salt”

“With salt? Please!”

He kept vibrating like an overexcited weasel. After getting their drinks he kept tapping the glass to stim some of the happiness out.

“Honestly I’ve never been to a gay bar before. I’m digging it. Just like how I’m digging graves”

They playfully hit his shoulder “Then I’m tots gonna try my best to make this the  ultimate first gay bar experience! I can’t think of any other lil fucked up gremlin buddy I would wanna have by my side!”

"Muhahah!! I am officially assigned ultimate gremlin buddy-”

“Greetings” A voice suddenly came from behind them.

Both of them flinched away. Remy let out a short yell and Remus was close to throwing his drink in the person’s face when he saw it was just Logan.

He had on jeans and a black button up with the top button unbottoned. He had with him iced coffee from starbucks because he had to drive home later.

“LOGIE!!!” Remy threw their arms around his neck to pull him closer “Babe this is the Log-legend. Once he was like sooo drunk so when he like tried to kiss me puked on my shoes instead!”

Logan grimaced “I am still very sorry about that”

“Oh I already know him through Janus” Remus replied. 

“Oh my gawd babe” Remy looked between them all “So like we all know Janny?! Wig! Sad he isn’t here then”

Remus held up his cola “Cheers to J-anus!” The other two held up their glasses in agreement.

“Cheers”

“Cheerio!”

“He is very pretty and charming and cute” Logan dreamily sighed. He stopped himself from continuing to say compliments.

“Yeah” The other two sighed back in unison.

Logan sat down on a chair next to them. Remy looked around the bar before squinting at him “No Patty?”

He instantly started looking like a Very sad seal “Sadly my wife is away on a convention with her magical girl anime fanclub this whole week. I estimated that going to the bar would make me feel less lonely”

“You have a WIFe??? Like a real one???” Remus exclaimed, his eyeballs were close to popping out from surprise.

“Yes. This may be a controversial opinion but when I marry someone I prefer them to be physically real” He replied druly.

He got a smug grin on his lips “Does she peg you?”

“She does far more than just peg me”

“Nice!” His eyes went even wider “IS That a stim toy??!”

He pointed at the tangle Logan kept between his fingers “Correct. If I do not have something to relieve my focus onto I can easily go into senso- OH a chewie?”

Remus nodded while showing of his chew necklace. The two of them started rambling about their favorite stim toy. Until they went off into special interests (star trek/astronomy and art/animal biology respectively).

Soon enough Remus was showing pictures of the animal bones he’d found. Logan ooeh and ahhed at all of them before asking the most nerdy of questions (where he’d found them, their bone density, if any damage had been done to them) which only made Rem infodump which made Lo infodump which made them both happy stim.

Meanwhile Remy sat beside them completely zoned out. They got time to drink 2 more of those fruit mixes and a few shots. The room was starting to spin.

The loud music wasn’t keeping out the yelling. They dunked their forehead against the bar table and covered their ears to try and get it out. The music was supposed to keep it out! Why was nothing working! The bruise ached. Their throat closed in on itself until they couldn’t breathe. 

“Remus” They gasped out. They looked over to their friend with a desperate look in their eyes. They just needed a distraction.

“So my theory for why you keep finding bones in specifically that part of the woods is because of the kind of dirt making it take longer for them to deco-” Logan was explaining while Remus nodded along.

“Rem! L-let’s like go up and dance or something. Please” 

This time it caught Remus’ attention. He looked over to them “Sure- are you feeling alright? Did you drink too much? You’re looking like a mummy”

“Yes. No. I just like- Like- They’re playing Charli xcx of course we gotta like dance!!”

“I will protect your belongings then” Logan added.

Remy stumbled up on shaky legs. Remus sent them a warm smile that made them want to cry before taking their hand. He let them lead him out to the dancefloor. Honestly he was pretty nervous about it, but being with them always made some of the anxiety melt away.

They stumbled on their own feet and fell forward. Their friend took ahold of their wrists and pulled them close to his chest. Their faces were so close to each other. So so close.

He didn’t let go. They couldn't remember him ever letting them hold him this close. Their chests pressed against each other. Their arms around his shoulders. His hands on their back. 

"You’re right. It is a good song. Good to crash a car too" Remus said absentmindedly.

Remy let up into shaky giggles from how sudden he’d said it “Yeah. Yeah I guess” 

They kept giggling. He chuckled back. He started spinning around on the dancefloor. They moved with him. His arms wrapped closer around their waist. Their cheek leaned against the slope of his neck (even though they had to lean down to get on his height level).

Remy quietly sang along to the music which made Remus start yelling along to it. The enby threw their head back from laughter. They took his hand and intertwined their fingers.

Remus moved his hand out and spun them around before pulling them close again. Their cheeks were flushed red, his was as well. He playfully dipped them down when the song ended.

It continued on into a song neither of them knew but they kept dancing anyway. They didn’t stay as pressed close to each other but they always had some contact. Holding hands. An arm around a waist. A head leaning against a chest.

When they finally got back to the bar table they were both panting. Remy was completely leaning on Remus since their body had started to hurt, but even through the pain they were both bubbling over with so much happiness they kept breaking out into bouts of giggling.

To their surprise Logan wasn’t sitting alone. A tall person with long dark hair sat on the chair beside him. Xir hand was on his thigh. The nerd had a soft smile on his face as they leant close to talk.

“Uh Lo?” Remus had to wave his arms around to get his attention.

His head shot around to look at them “Hello” He glanced to the person “These are the ones I was protecting belongings for” He stood up and held out his hand “Shall we?” Xir took it. Logan waved at his friends before going off to the dancefloor with the stranger.

“Huh. Good for him” 

“I guess”

Remy ordered another high alcohol fruit mix. Remus happily chewed on his necklace while humming along to the music. Between their chairs their hands hang with their fingers intertwined. Holding their hand had started to make Remus feel all funny in the head for some reason.

The enby watched on as Logan and the stranger danced for a bit before moving to a corner to make out. When the stranger started to lead him towards the bar’s bathrooms Remy turned to their friend.

“Yeah okay he’s not coming back for like a while. Smoke break?”

“Of course!”

They finished their drink before leaving the bar. The pair stopped right outside. Remus sat down on the side of the pavement. Remy tried to sit down but they stumbled over themself and fell flat on the ground.

Remus got up to help “Are you okay? Are you sure you haven’t drank too much?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine” They laughed out.

He sat them down on the pavement while dusting off their clothes. He patted them on the head while pouting “You should get some water”

“Naaaah babe. I’m good”

In the moonlight the bruise was visible again. That horrible dark purple bruise around their neck. It looked like it hurt.

Remus put his hand on their shoulder “Beanie are you alright? I do know it wasn’t some halloween monster that got you that bruise”

For a moment their whole body tensed, they forced a smile “It’s fine. me and my boyf just tried like some new kinky shit in the bedroom y’know. Nothing more” They lied.

They took out a cigarette pack and a lighter from their bag. They traced their thumb over Remus’ lower lip and opened his mouth just slightly. Remy leaned closer while putting a cigerette between his lips. They lit it.

Remus took a deep breathe. It’d been a while since he’d last smoked. He leaned so close the cigarette nearly touched Remy’s skin. They parced their lips as he breathed out the smoke right into their mouth.

A smile spread on their lips. He held the cigarette over to them but they shook their head. They looked around in their bag again and took out a small poppers bottle.

“Should you really take that. Won’t your brain melt out of your ears?” Remus asked “I really don’t wanna have to slorp up your brain juice...yet”

“Relax babe. It’s like not dangerous as long as I don’t like take too much and I only take when partying” It took a moment before they quietly added “And I only party when I need to get out of the apartement”

“What?”

They forced on a bigger smile “What?”

Remy moved the popper up to their nose and inhaled as much of it as they could. It took a few seconds before they let up into a giggle. It was in a higher tone than their usual bubbly laugh, it almost sounded like cackling. They could see stars.

(U!Virgil mentions from here on out)

“Y’know my boyfriend gave me like a flashback or whatever last night” They giggled while swaying from side to side.

Remus gently grabbed their shoulders and moved them to lean against him so they wouldn’t fall over “Uhu. Did you stab him?”

“No silly. He just. He’d been soooo sweet all weeek and I just I just ruined it ‘cause i like overeacted to some joke he made while like we were washing the dishes” They were barely even aware they were speaking “And like it just kept going until we were like screaming at each other”

Remy was still smiling and giggling between every word but tears started to form in their eyes. Their fingers felt numb. Bile was rising in their throat.

“And he just like threw the plate he was holding down on the ground. And it like didn’t hit me. He wasn’t even aiming at me. He was just throwing it at the ground. But it shattered and it was so stupid and overemotional and stupid and pathetic but I just I just curled up on the floor and like had a panic attack like a stupid baby”

They smeared their hand across their face to try and get the tears away. They felt sick. Remus quickly put out his cigarette, it didn’t feel like the right time to smoke.

“And I just like- Is that normal? Is that fine? Like throwing stutff like that? I-I- he’s never done it before. Or I mean like not plates” They looked up at Remus “Is it fine?”

He gulped while fiddling with his hoodie sleeve “Well uh did he apologize?”

“Mhmm. He like- like for some minutes he like kept yelling ‘cause he thought I was just like faking a panic attack to like I dunno manipulate him but then he like comforted me and like calmed me down and like held me and cuddled all night until I fell asleep and- and he said sorry a bunch of times and like he said it would never happen again. He uh usually doesn’t lie”

“Well ehm then it should be fine right? Right?” They both shrugged at each other “I mean everyone can make mistakes! And it was during an argument! Everyone does drastic things during an arguments! So it’s fine. I think”

A shaking breathe of relief left Remy’s lips. They stretched themself over his lap and he moved his arms around them. “Thanks babe. I was like tots worried for a bit but y’know i was thinking like that too. So it’s fine”

“Yeah” He combed his fingers through their hair “You do know you can vent to me whenever right? I promise I won’t gross you out with details about how to pull out rabbit teeth ever again so if I can hold that back then I can also listen to stuff! I can super listen!!”

They closed their eyes. They felt so tired. So tired and sick and horrible. “Mhm. I know babe. I know”

Remy sent him a soft smile before suddenly puking. Some of it came on his pants but mostly on the ground. Remus stood up and carefully moved them down to a sitting position.

He rubbed up and down their back with one hand and held their hair back with his other. Their shoulders were shaking and they were taking in shallow breathes between every sudden throw up.

“It’s okay beanie-boo. Breathe. Breathe. You got all the time in the world. Until the sun blows up at least”

“I-I took- too much- too much” They slurred out before lurching forward again. It seemed to stop for now.

“I’m aware” He carefully wiped away some of the puke left around their mouth with his hoodie sleeve.

They leaned back against his chest. They closed their eyes and focused on breathing. He held them so so gently. As if they would break like glass otherwise. He pressed a kiss to the top of their head.

“There you are!” Logan said as came through the bar entrance “What a relief. I assumed you had left without me because you thought my actions were unacceptable” He noticed how pale and shaky Remy looked and got a worried look on his face “Is everything alright?”

“They feel like someone has slammed a fish into their stomach. Not good” Remus replied.

“I see. I suppose it woud be best to get them home”

Logan picked Remy up with ease to carry them to his car. He was quite sure he’d carried dogs that weighted more than them. Remus anxiously followed along.

He sat them in the passenger seat. He shook their shoulders until they opened their eyes. They let out a quiet whine.

He held up 4 fingers “Remy how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Fuck yourself”

“Noted”

They moved to the side and seemed to pass out again. Logan closed the door before turning to Remus.

“Did they take anything?” He whispered.

“Only a popper”

“Good. Do you need a ri-”

“Bus”

“Okay” Logan was about to go but stopped midstep and lowered his voice even more “Oh and Rem...Could you please not ask Janus to hang out next weekend? I am planning a surprise...I hope it will make him happy”

“Good luck comrade....Please text me once Remy is home safe. Please?”

“Of course”

He did a little nod before leaving. Logan got into the car. He couldn’t stop looking at the bruise around their neck. Remy continued to sleep for most of the ride until they they were 5 minutes or so away from their apartment. They suddenly flinched awake.

“Stop the car!” They gasped out. 

“Are you still feeling the same?”

“Logan stop the fucking car!” There was fear in their eyes. 

Logan stopped by the side of the road. The road was barren and dark. It had to be past 3 am at least. Remy crawled back into the backseats while their whole body shook.

“Don’t. Look. At. Me”

“Sure” He stared down into the steering wheel to not accidentally see their reflection in the glass.

“I just. I just have to change clothes. I just. I don’t want Virigl to call me a whore again. I mean. He won’t. But what if. What if he gets mad. I just. I just have to change” They slurred out.

They stumbled out of the car after changing into a pair of long pants and closing their leather jacket. A cold chill went up Logan’s spine. He quickly stepped out of the car as well.

“Okay bye bye Logie!!”

They tried to move but Logan grabbed onto their shoulders. He forced back a choking feeling in his throat “What do you mean by your boyfriend getting mad?”

“Pff! It’s nothing! I’m drunk!! Byyyeeeeee”

They started to stumble away but Logan easily followed along “It did not sound like he called you a whor-...you know what...with your consent. I am simply going to remind you that calling a partner things like that is not okay. Not in any circumstance”

Remy’s expression turned cold. They walked faster “I don’t like what you’re implying”

“I’m not implying anything”

“Yes you Fucking are!”

“Exscuse me for being worried about your wellbeing. What you just said sounded like a very bad sign”

“Yeah exactly it only SOUnded bad! My boyfriend isn’t bad!” Remy snarled out.

“I am not saying he is. He doesn’t have to be bad to say awful things, as long as he changes”

They shoved their hands into their pockets. Their hands moved into fists “You don’t know a fucking thing about me. You tried to kiss me once when you were drunk and that’s all. We don’t know each other”

Logan took a deep breathe “I don’t need to know you to see red flags. Remy-” He searched for words “Remy you’re bruised. How- you can’t expect me to not get worried”

Remy suddenly stopped and turned around to meet his eyes. “MY BOYFRIEND ISN’T ABUSIVE! I-”

“I’m not necessarily saying he is. I just wan’t to talk-” His voice started to sound desperate.

They looked like a cornered animal. Tears were brimming at the edges of their eyes “YOU DON’T KNOW A THING!”

“Remy-”

“I DID THIS TO MYSELF!” Their hand went up to the bruise “I DESERVED IT! VIRGIL DIDN’T DO A FUCKING THING! I DID! I TOOK A BELT AND HURT MYSELF! OKAY?! VIRGIL CARES ABOUT ME!”

He tried to sound soothing “Remy please take a deep breathe-”

“NO! NO! YOU KNOW WHAT LOGAN?! THERE IS STILL CUM ON YOUR FUCKING LIPS FROM YOU SUCKING OFF SOME STRANGER IN A DIRTY BATHROOM! SO NO! I AM NOT TAKING LOVE ADVICE FROM SOMEONE WHO IS CHEATING ON HIS GODDAMN WIFE!”

They stormed away. For a moment Logan was frozen in place before he forced himself to run after them to try and make sure they would be okay.

“I am not-”

Remy looked at him for one last time. The look in their eyes made him feel cold. It was pure hatred.

“Logan get the fuck away from me! I am drunk and high and alone on a street with no one but you who is sure as hell fucking stronger than me and all you’re doing is spouting bullshit! So please get why I want you to leave. And why I don’t ever want you to talk to me again!”

He stopped dead in his tracks “...Right....Yes....I am so sorry”

Remy didn’t even respond. They simply turned and walked away. Logan stayed and watched to make sure they got home to the apartment safe before going back to his car.

He slumped down in the seat. His heart was racing and his thoughts were for once an illogical flurry. He sat motionless for several minutes before finally getting some semblence of an idea.

He took out his phone and dialed one of his usual numbers. It took several signals before Emile Picani picked up.

“Mhm? Logie bear? I can’t today I have clients in the morning” He yawned out.

“This is about one of your patients. I am fearing that they are in danger”

In an instant all of the sleepyness in Emile’s voice disappeared “In danger? Physical? Is it urgent? Do I need to call someone? Which patient are you even referring to?”

Logan hesitated. If Remy had reacted that strongly to him just attempting to ask about his boyfriend it was very likely that they would stop going to therapy if Emile brought it up. His throat tightened, he didn’t want to put them in any more danger.

“I....Nevermind Emile....This was just a far too gone joke...Someone dared me to call you. I am sorry. Have a good night”

He ended the call. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. His hands held onto the wheel so hard his knuckles whitened.

Logan had no idea what to do. No idea at all. All he knew was fear. Fear for Remy’s safety. Fear for their well being. Fear that anything he did would only make their situation worse.

[haloshornsinkstains]

Other Side [Songfic, slight Dabi x F!Reader]

While I’m working on Kinktober stuff and my head is a mess, here have a songfic that wouldn’t leave my damn brain for the past few weeks after I saw an animatic based on this song (The Other Side from The Greatest Showman). It just works? Also, apologies on the quirk, I was rewatching Bungou Stray Dogs and <3

CW: Female reader, alcohol, swearing, mention of unwanted groping, Endeavour is a dick... otherwise, pretty SFW

You groaned, pressing your head against the bar and gesturing to the bartender for your usual. Hearing the glass set down beside you, you looked up and smiled, taking a long drink. “Thanks Ryu.” The bartender smiled sympathetically. “Boss still a dick?” “The biggest flaming dick in Japan.” You grumbled. “They’re still keeping me on office duty. I break one creeps jaw and they trap me inside. Mirko punched a reporter and she’s still a top hero.” “Hey, it could be worse. You could be not working under the number one hero.” “No, that makes it worse.” Ryu frowned. “How?” “I hate him. I always hated him.” “Then why don’t you just leave and work for someone else.” You scowled at your glass, left hand leaving dents in the wood of the bar where it rested. “Not allowed.” “Bullshit. And stop denting my bar.” “Truth. Believe me, I’d leave if I could. But I can’t.” You sighed, lifting your hand from the wood apologetically. “Sorry Ryu. If I left I wouldn’t get to be a hero any more, even if all I do is paperwork I worked my ass off for this.” Ryu shrugged, spotting another customer signalling him out of the corner of his eye and smiling apologetically. “Sucks I guess. I’ve got people to serve, shout if you want a top up.” “Believe me, I will.”

You heard a glass set down next to you, the unmistakable heat of a body taking up the seat to your right. "Hey there princess." The voice was gravelly but so familiar. "Nope. I've had more than enough Todoroki bullshit for one day." You growled, staring daggers at your drink.  "Sorry, you must be mistaking me for someone else." You turned, narrowing your eyes at the man sat next to you. "Dabi. You remember I've known you way too long to fall for your bullshit right? And I am so not in the mood." Dabi went to lift his glass, only to find it stuck to the bar, your skin giving off a faint red glow. "Come on princess, I only want to talk. We can bitch about that asshole like old times." You sagged a little, the glow fading and his glass suddenly much easier to lift. You knew he wanted more than to just talk, Dabi's talks always came with attempts to recruit you into the league or, if he was drunk or high enough on adrenaline, his bed. But he was an old friend, and one of the few people more than happy to join your Fuck Endeavour and Fuck The Hero Commission rants. Shaking your head you gestured to one of the darker tables in the back, this might have been a very shady bar but Dabi was well known enough now that even here someone might be dumb enough to try to call the pros. And you liked this place too much to see it turned to ash. 

  You both settled into your seats in the back, you nursing your whiskey with a frown. "So what did dear old dad do today?" "Existed?" You huffed. "Bitched me out for not downplaying the damage caused in one of his 'rescues' while I was writing his reports for him. Which turned into more general belittlement of my attitude, abilities as a hero, quirk… basically he covered all the bases." "You know they'll never let you leave there right? You'll be doing paperwork until you die." Dabi drawled, you glared at him. "They're keeping you there because you're too dangerous to them, you know too much and you were caught sympathising with a villain. He hates you, he won't hesitate to put you down at the first sign of defection. You're trapped." "I didn't sympathise with a villain. I just didn't disagree with all of his ideas regarding the behaviour of heroes. I didn't exactly agree with his methods, I liked Ingenium plenty thank you very much." You grumbled, swirling the amber liquid in your glass. “He was friendly, and fun.” "Still… you hit like a truck when we were kids, I'd love to see what damage you can do now." He hummed, eyes flashing bright for a second. "You could be very dangerous. So they lock you up in an office doing filing for a man that hates you like a good little minion." "You're alarmingly eloquent today." You took another sip, setting the glass down and closing your eyes with a deep sigh. "I worked my ass off to be a hero, why would I want to throw that away?" "Oh, so you enjoy being his little secretary?" Your eyes flashed, skin glowing red as his chair creaked under the sudden strain of the gravity increase. Dabi just smirked, that stupid smug look that told you he knew he'd won. "Just listen to my proposal?" You sighed, the oppressive pressure dissipating in an instant as you waved at him to continue. Maybe he'd put a new twist in the spiel this time.

"Right here, right now I put the offer out I don't want to chase you down I know you see it"  “We do this on a near weekly basis, you have quite literally stalked me to this bar, if that’s not chasing me down what is?” You scoffed and shook your head, eyes flicking to the bar while you debated how many more drinks you were going to need after this. "You run with me And I can cut you free Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in So trade that typical for something colorful And if it's crazy, live a little crazy" "Well at least you acknowledge your league is entirely batshit." "You can play it sensible, a king of conventional" "Conventional? Really? I'm wounded." "Or you can risk it all and see Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride It'll take you to the other side 'Cause you can do like you do Or you can do like me Stay in the cage, or you'll finally take the key Oh, damn! Suddenly you're free to fly" You drummed your fingers on the table, honestly the bird metaphors were a bit weird but he was starting to sound like he had a point, which was…. Alarming. You needed to shut this down fast or you’d break.

  "Okay, my friend, you want to cut me in Well I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen So thanks, but no I think I'm good to go 'Cause I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in" Dabi scoffed. "Really? Didn't sound like it five minutes ago." You shot him a glare. "Now I admire you, and that whole show you do You're onto something, really it's something Don't you know that I'm okay with this uptown part I get to play 'Cause I got what I need and I don't want to take the ride I don't need to see the other side So go and do like you do I'm good to do like me Ain't in a cage, so I don't need to take the key Oh, damn! Can't you see I'm doing fine I don't need to see the other side"

Dabi laughed, gesturing at the dingy bar and the glass in your hands with possibly the most judgemental look on his face you’d seen in years.  "Now is this really how you like to spend your days? Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays"

You sighed again, but your shoulders were sagging now and he knew he was winning. You couldn't pretend you enjoyed this any more, restrictions and abuse breaking you down into someone much easier to tempt and mould.  "If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the town Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns"  You huffed, waving a hand vaguely in his direction.  

"But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little Just let me give you the freedom to dream And it'll wake you up and cure your aching Take your walls and start 'em breaking Now that's a deal that seems worth taking But I guess I'll leave that up to you" He stood to leave only to find the gravity of your quirk forcing him back down. He knew then that he had won, they'd turned a hero. Shigiraki might take some convincing but that didn't matter right now. Your resolve was crumbling.

"Well it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly So what's in it for me?" "Freedom. You want to punch the next guy who touches you inappropriately through a building? The League won't question you for a second, and there's no paperwork." You shook your head. "You'll have to raise the price a bit more than that." "Its a big fuck you to Endeavour?" "That was weak even for you. Dick has hated me since I was, what, five? All I’m doing is giving him an excuse to come after me. He'll be after my head as soon as I leave, and as much as I’m loathe to admit it we both know he's powerful." "You get to spend all the time you want with your favourite childhood friend…" his smirk turned wicked and knowing. "No one to stop you, no questions, no hiding in the corner of a dingy bar. And I guess Shigaraki is okay.” "You play dirty, you know that right?" "Well, I am a villain." Rolling your eyes you knocked back the last of your whiskey and stood, holding out a hand to him. "Well, guess I'm pissed off enough not to care any more. Congratulations Touya, you win." Grinning Dabi took your hand, ignoring the use of his old name in favour of pulling you in for a hug. “Oh, you’re going to be amazing Princess.” “I’ve always been amazing.” You chuckled. “Take me to your leader before I change my mind.” Dabi grinned. “As you wish.” “And no burning down my favourite bar!”

The pair of you stepped outside, Dabi sending a quick message on his phone that was shortly followed by the appearance of a swirling black void. "No wonder I've never seen you on the subway." You joked, though your fingers tightened anxiously around his. "Time to move up in the world princess." He chuckled, tugging you forwards into the void. "You know I don't like...holy shit." You stepped out into a different dingy bar, several faces snapping up to look at you as you appeared. Dabi was a comforting presence at your back. “No more corners of dingy bars huh?” You murmured, shooting him a sideways glance. "Hey Dabi, what's with the midget?" You bristled. "I am not a…" "Shit, that's a pro!" The villain speaking launched at you, intent to kill flashing hot in his eyes. Already irritated and more than a little on edge you activated your quirk, watching him fall flat on his face as overwhelming gravity pulled him down. Dabi had crumpled to his knees behind you, the others struggling to move.  "Princess."  You just growled. "She's with me, with us." Dabi continued. "Princess?" With a huff you released your quirk, watching warily as the villain who'd gone to attack you pushed himself to his feet. Dabi's hand on your shoulder made you flinch but his grip was strong, somewhere between restraint and support in case wide scale use of your quirk had taken it out of you. It was hard not to appreciate the gesture, even if you felt fine. "Meet Graviton. She's… an old friend." "I didn't know you could make friends." Your head snapped around at the sound of the voice, focusing in on Shigaraki sat at the bar, watching you from between the fingers of the hand on his face. "I've got more than you creep." Dabi snapped back, fingers digging into your shoulder. You tipped your head back a little, raising an eyebrow at him.  Shigaraki scratched at his neck, eyes never leaving you. "Why is she even here? She could be a double agent."  You couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled out at that. "Hah, no." "Why are you here?" You were glad for the dim lighting, the constant attention making a blush rise on your cheeks. "I had a really bad week, and Dabi asked nicely. Even said please." As much as you tried to be nonchalant you couldn't hide the slight tremble in your voice. Shigaraki scoffed and you finally looked away from him. "I'm sick of being stuck doing paperwork because the Heroes say so. I worked hard to get my license only to be told I'm not allowed to do anything except sit in a cage with someone I hate. Guess I finally had enough. I was told you'll let me use my power." "And she really wants to punch Endeavour in the face." Dabi added cheerfully. "Oh yeah, that too." "I trust her, and you should know by now I don't drag in just anyone." "Shigaraki, she could be useful. She has inside information and that power was impressive." The black void behind the bar spoke, startling you a little and pulling a quiet chuckle from Dabi.  "Fine. Make yourself useful, if you try to betray us I'll kill you." Shigaraki huffed, standing from his seat. "Kurogiri, I'm going back to my room." "Welcome to the League [name]."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Get Real Angry: Interrogation, Final

CW: Institutional brutality, whump of a minor (in the form of a video Jake watches), beating, electric shock, very vaguely referenced past/potential noncon, violence in response to self-soothing stimming behavior, referenced familial abuse, sleep deprivation, creepy whumper behavior

The final part of Jake’s interrogation during his very bad week. Tomorrow I hope to get his reunion with Chris written, and then Jake’s first day back in class after that, and then we’ll return to your regularly scheduled comfort programming now that this little mini-narrative is out of my head!

To understand the frat guy reference (a reference to @deluxewhump‘s Alex), please read this piece here.

INTERROGATION: PART ONE PART TWO

Tagging @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxck-fxck, @slaintetowhump

When Everly wheels the TV in - big and blocky, on a little metal wheelie cart with a squeaky wheel and rust spots along the frame - and settles it in front of the chair Jake has been encouraged to sit in, Jake is reminded, bizarrely, of a movie he saw a few years ago.

Weird arthouse movie about a guy that takes another guy captive and his boyfriend or whatever tries to hunt him down, they watched something on a TV in an old house… shit, what was it called… Jake’s head hurts, throbs with a kind of foggy ache, and he closes his eyes, head drooping just slightly.

He could drift off just like this, with his wrists still zip-tied, his shoulders screaming pain at him. Since waking up at the sound of the cops banging on the door, sleep has been a twenty-minute nap here and there, as long as they’ll let him drop off, slumped in his chair, forehead resting on the table in the interrogation room.

Everly left for a while, he assumes to get some fucking sleep. They’d set up some kind of weird blaring alarm system that went off while he was gone, going off every hour or so, waking Jake up. His head feels weighted down with the fucking need for sleep. 

Once his eyes close, he can’t quite seem to force them open again. God, he could, he really could fall asleep now, with Everly staring right down at him. Rescues talk about it, about curling up on the floor, covering their eyes with their arms to try and find the tiniest bit of darkness in the unending white light, just… drifting away into some kind of doze and fuck, what he wouldn’t give for a real nap right about now-

There’s a slam, palm on metal table, rattling it, and Jake jerks his head back up, staring wide-eyed up at the handler, breathing in harsh pants. Everly’s not even wearing his stupid fake cop uniform anymore. He doesn’t even try to hold up the pretense.

That’s how Jake knows - for sure this time, not just a hunch - that that camera in the corner by the ceiling definitely isn’t turned on.

Wanted to contract you but I was overruled. Jake’s bloodshot exhausted eyes stare up into Everly’s calm, almost pleased flat gray, and he shudders. It’s a thin line between protecting people who need help and being turned into one.

He kind of wants to send a thank-you card to whoever decided he was too much trouble to abduct.

“Wake up, sunshine,” Everly says, pleased as can be, pleased as punch Jake’s nana would have said, when he was little. Tiny little old southern woman, genteel beachside accent, sweet tea on the table, Sunday dinner, what happens between you and your husband is your business, Maggie. Jake shudders, all over.

When you run from a man who won’t stop hurting you with your kid in tow, you have to run from all the people who just can’t give enough of a fuck to help you, too. 

“Pretty-… pretty sure sleep deprivation is torture under th’ Geneva Conventions,” Jake mumbles, forcing his head to stay up, his spine as straight as he can make it. Leaning against the back of the chair helps, but shit, what he wouldn’t give-

That’s how it starts, Jake. You think you’d give something up just to sleep, and then they take that, and take more than that, and eventually there’s nothing left.

“Probably,” Everly acknowledges with a careless shrug. “But you’re gonna have one hell of a time proving you were here and not just the unfortunate recipient of a beating outside a bar or whatever the fuck you do in your free time.”

“In m’free time,” Jake slurs - weird how being this tired has made it harder to move his mouth, even, “I mostly feed homeless people. Not… ‘zactly a violent hobby.”

“Weird how that happened to you, then,” Everly says brightly. He picks up a remote on the cart and starts pressing buttons. The TV powers on with a sudden flash of colors and Jake winces as the light hurts his eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to focus. 

It’s harder than it should be. Everything is harder than it should be. He’s not even sure he could stand up on his own any longer, his legs feel like noodles precariously balanced on top of concrete blocks. 

“No… no folder t’day?” Jake asks, staring as the menu pops up. Smart TV, of course it is. He stifles a laugh at the sight of the little Netflix icon, Hulu, Amazon Prime. “Y’watch a lot of, of fuckin’ TV when you’re torturin’ innocent people?”

“Shut up, it belongs to the police station.” Everly chooses an app off to the corner, something called KINECTREMOT, the letters dancing and refusing to settle as Jake tries to read them. Does it start this way, with the rescues? Does it start with it just getting harder because you’re tired, and then one day the letters start to hurt?

Or is there something else, to that? Something to the training the rescues can’t explain, maybe don’t even remember?

No, Kauri remembers. Kauri’s head is a fucking mess but he remembers more of training than any of the others seem to be. Maybe that’s why his head is a mess. Jake groans, trying to focus, to think.

Everly’s humming to himself, a soft little tune on his lips, as he inputs a login username g.everly@wru.com and a password that just shows up as little circles. He fucks it up the first time, has to redo it. Jake holds back a snort.

“Y’tired, too, huh?” He asks, false sympathy dripping from his tone. “Real tired? Wanna schedule us a fuckin’ naptime, man?”

Everly glances back at him, then leans over and grabs Jake by the back of the head, casually slamming his forehead into the metal table, listening to Jake’s cry of pain with a faint grin on his face, then jerking his head back up, to look into exhausted, foggy light-colored eyes. “Have some fucking manners, Stanton.”

“Fair ‘nough,” Jake slurs, head pounding with pain, slumping to the side. “Can I please request a fuckin’ nap, sir-”

“No.” Everly goes back to humming, tries the username and password again. Wrong again. Jake wonders if he fucks it up again, if he’ll get locked out. Since this is clearly meant to be some kind of dramatic reveal, the idea strikes him as funny. Not just funny, fucking hilarious. Jake starts to giggle, unwillingly, almost helplessly. Big tough guy can’t figure out his fucking password for his Big Villain Moment. It’s funny, right? It’s really fucking funny, and shit, he’s so tired the glint of light off the table and the little spot of blood from his head, smeared across, seems funny because it’s like looking at clouds, what shape is this? and Chris on the grass bouncing up and down on his feet and saying it’s it’s it’s a kangaroo, Jake, it’s a kangaroo, in Australia they call them roos, they just say, say, say say say roo I saw a man on TV he said, said roo, he just said roo and that cloud looks like-

There’s a flash of pain, impact of palm across bruises that have already blossomed dark on his face, and Jake grunts, jerking to the side, somehow managing to stay in his seat. 

“Stop laughing. Stay quiet.” Everly narrows his eyes, tries one more time to put the password in. This time it works and the screen flashes black with the KINECTREMOT logo across the front, a soft chime of sound.

What he’s looking at now, Jake doesn’t really understand. Some kind of inbox, but for pictures and videos. They’re all labeled with six-digit numbers, a long list of them, with the words PRIMARY, SECONDARY, TERTIARY next to each one. Not always the same word. Some of them say one thing, some say another. Some of them just say CALL IN or EMERGENCY.

Everly chooses a search bar option and starts painstakingly entering a number, and Jake stares, dumbly, wondering what the fuck he’s looking at, but with a sick certainty that he really, really does not want to know.

Everly’s still humming that stupid song, and Jake realizes why it’s sticking in his head, now. “Are y’… are y’humming Hotel California?”

Everly stops, blinks, looks over at him, genuinely baffled. Then he laughs, a rumbling sound. Jake hates that fucking smug piece of shit’s laughter. “I guess I am. Hadn’t noticed. It was playing on my way from the hotel this morning. You like that song?”

Jake stares at him, as evenly as he can, his eyelids trying to droop down, body desperate for sleep. “Used to.”

Everly chuckles again. “Yeah, it’s overplayed. Anyway… here we go.” He’s picked one number out - 223499, it doesn’t mean anything, and next to it he reads PRIMARY/SECONDARY and what the fuck does that mean? A long line of little thumbnail images pop up, with labels next to them. INTAKE, ISOLATION DAY 1, DAY 2, DAY 3. 

The drop in Jake’s stomach gets worse. He feels almost nauseous with fear - not for himself, exactly, but for what he knows he’s about to see. “Wait, wait-… what are you-”

“Shut up, Stanton.”

“No. No, I, I can’t-… what are you goin’ t’do?” Jake looks up, bleary, frightened now. Everly just smiles back down at him, that smug fucking shit-eating grin, and Jake pulls hard on his restrained wrists, feels a flash of bright agonizing pain as the plastic, caked in two days of dried blood, reopens the raw wounds. He grunts at the ache, but everything from his shoulders down has hurt like hell since day one.

“You know, I requested authorization for injectables, too-”

“What th’fuck are those?” 

“It’s pretty obvious from the name, I think. Got overruled on that one, too. Fuckin’ higher-ups worried about traceable compounds and shit. I mean, I get the concern. We can’t keep you long enough for that shit to get fully out of your system. But it would’ve made getting to watch this part a lot more fun.”

Everly selects a thumbnail, and the screen opens up - it’s like some bizarre fucked-up snuff-film take on a Netflix episode choice, with the thumbnail suddenly blown up to a larger size and a small description next to it. Someone made a computer program for this, Jake realizes with an even sicker drop in his stomach. Disgust ricochets around his body. Somewhere, at some point, someone built a computer program designed to let these assholes show him a video of… of what?

223499 - CONTRACT SIGNING he reads, just as Everly pushes play.

“Why show me this?” He asks, in nearly a whisper. “D’you… d’you think this is gonna make me not want to, to help?”

“No, I think you won’t break today, and today’s all I got. Give me a week and a white room and I’d have you taking food from my fingers, but sadly, our time together nears its end. Here’s what I can do, though. I can show you something you can’t ever prove. And I can watch your fuckin’ face the whole time. I can get you all riled up, all angry, and send you home with that bitterness just roiling around inside you.”

On the TV screen, Jake sees a small table in a blank room. No pictures on the walls, no decorations at all. Just a small table, two chairs, one on either side. Sitting in one chair is a woman in a suit - everything about her screams lawyer. Behind her, leaning against the wall, in a prim pantsuit, is a woman Jake has seen on TV before, that Renford bitch. 

Antoni walked into the room when she was on TV once, turned around and walked out, and didn’t come out of his room for the rest of the day. Kauri flinched when Nat had to wear heels for a meeting and came walking down the stairs. 

Jake knows pure soulless evil when he sees it, and there it is, looking bored.

There’s another person, too, mostly hidden by the shadows in the corner, but there’s something weirdly familiar about what Jake can see of him, something he can’t quite place. He’s wearing a pastel-colored polo and light slacks, weirdly fussy looking, like he’s dressed in case he ends up on TV.

Which, Jake guesses he kind of did.

They’re chatting - the sound of it too low for Jake’s tired brain to parse into words he can understand. Just easy, comfortable talk. Coworkers chit-chatting about their weekends, waiting for the day to start. Lawyer’s got a mug of coffee in front of her, takes a sip. It’s normal inane corporate chatter and these are people who do unimaginable damage to other peoples’ lives and they don’t feel a fucking thing about it.

“I won’t get what I want today. But I think I’ll see what I’m hoping to see on your face - and I think you’ll go home with something stuck in your head that you can’t get out.” Everly moves around behind him, stands with his hands on Jake’s shoulders, rubbing thumbs in like he’s giving him the world’s most painful backrub. Jake grinds his teeth together to keep from making a single sound. His eyes want to close, to look away, but there’s some sort of fascination that keeps his eyes glued to the screen.

He’s always wondered what the contract signings are like. The rescues never remember them.

There must be some sound - everyone kind of shifts around in their chairs, straightens up, and the lawyer pulls some papers out of a small folder in front of her, slides them across to the other side of the table in front of the other chair, sets a plastic pen down next to the paper. Fiddles with it, shifting it back and forth minutely, until it’s perfectly parallel.

A door behind the empty chair opens, and Jake stares in perfect horror as Chris is shoved into the room, a man Jake doesn’t recognize behind him, wearing the handler uniform and prodding Chris with a black stick.

He’s so… small, isn’t he?

Jake rarely thinks about how small Chris really is. In the video, he’s hunched over, his hair looks weirdly clumpy. He’s wearing a loose white V-neck T-shirt that’s way too big for him, like it’s oversized or they just couldn’t be bothered to get him one that fit. His knees stick out from under a pair of thin black shorts.

“Oh my God,” Jake whispers. His heart feels like ice in his chest, the cold is spreading through his veins, right to the tips of his toes in his sneakers, now bloodied like everything else he was wearing when they dragged him in here two… three? days ago.

Thumbs dig into his shoulder blades and he hisses, jerking forwards away from the pressure. “Recognize him, huh?”

Jake sets his jaw. “I recognize that you’re a fuckin’ monster piece of shit-”

Everly grabs his head and slams it down on the table again. Jake goes limp, groaning at the spark of white-hot pain, little spots in his vision even with closed eyes. Then his head is jerked back up. Motherfucker really likes walking the head injury line. “Watch. The. Video.”

“This… this won’t make me any less angry,” Jake manages to force out between numb lips. “None of it will.”

“Good. Then you’ll fuck up. The angry ones always do.” Everly grabs his chin from behind him and forces it forward. 

On the screen, Chris is sitting in the previously empty chair now, the handler’s hand on one shoulder, thumb rubbing back and forth across the back of his neck. He’s shivering so hard Jake can see it in the slightly blurry video, looking around at everyone. There are deep visible shadows under his eyes, and Jake watches the way he sits, with his hands sort of between his legs, can tell from the tension in his arms he’s gripping onto the chair. “Wh-why am, am, am, am-”

“Fuckin’ broken record,” The handler behind him says, a man Jake has never seen, and smacks Chris hard against the back of the head. He jerks forward, whimpering, and Jake would give anything to be able to crawl into the screen and save him.

There are tears in his eyes he has to blink away, but now that he sees him he doesn’t want to miss a second. He’s so little, even though he’s almost the same age he is now. Being in that place, with those people, makes him seem so small, so deeply in need of protection. He’s so fucking scared and none of them even care.

“No one mentioned a stammer,” The man in the corner says. His voice is familiar, too, it sounds like it’s tailor-made for TV. Smooth as silk, with something rotten hidden underneath. “I’m not interested in a fixer-upper, Karen.”

“I’m not selling you one, either,” Renford replies, and Jake’s hands curl into fists behind his back. “He hasn’t been trained yet. No one starts training until they sign.”

“What…” Chris - not Chris, not really, this is whoever he was before he became Chris - flinches and looks backwards up at the handler, as if checking for permission to speak. Jake swallows back bile when the handler nods, and Chris looks back forwards again, his gaze jumping all over the room. He doesn’t seem to see the man in the corner at all, and Jake squints as he realizes there’s some kind of one-way glass along that area, angled so the camera sees everyone, but he’s pretty sure Chris can’t see the man. “Who’s… talking?” 

His words are slurred together and deliberately, carefully spaced. 

He talked like this when he first arrived at the shelter, for days after. Flat, meaningless syllables dropped and run from, certain he’d be hurt if he made a single sound that wasn’t allowed.

“Not important, trainee,” The handler says. “Pay attention to what is important.”

“Yes, um… yes, yes, sir,” Chris says in a low, weak voice.

“Bet you’d like to commit murder right about now,” Everly says from behind him.

“You’d win that bet,” Jake growls.

“I always fuckin’ do.”

“What, um-… what’s happening?” Chris asks, softly, looking around the room.

“This is your consent form,” The lawyer says, tapping a fingernail on the paper between them. Chris winces, slightly, hunching back into the handler’s touch. “All your information is there as provided by your adult guardian-”

“Joanne? Aunt Jo?” Chris is looking around, confused, blinking. “But, but, but but she… she, I’m supposed to, to live with her now-”

“Not anymore, you’re not,” The handler says, with a laugh.

“What, what, what-what, what, what does that-”

The handler hits Chris hard across the back of the head again, and he bites down on his lower lip and goes silent. 

“You’d have gotten her an even higher payout if you didn’t talk so fucking much,” The handler says, grumbling, like Chris is the problem here.

Chris’s expression collapses from a nervous, frightened curiosity to an awful well of pain and grief. “Gotten her, her, her a what?”

The lawyer ignores him and keeps speaking. “… and your legal identification, confirming that you’re overage-”

“But, but I’m not, I’m, I’m n-not, I just turned, uh-” Chris is struggling, and Jake wants to climb into that screen and hold him, calm him down, help him slow his mouth to find the words. Chris’s eyes are wide, and his fear can be read, oddly foggy and dazed, like he’s operating on a slight delay. “I just, just just just-”

The handler behind him grips the back of his neck, like a man grabbing the scruff of an unruly dog, and Chris’s voice cuts off like turning a radio dial. 

There’s a moment of silence where Jake can hear his harsh, panting breaths.

“What did we talk about, ‘499? About lying?”

Chris’s hands come up onto the table, tapping on it, not loud enough for Jake to hear. “N-not, not, not to lie to you, but-but, um, but but but I’m, I’m not-”

“Stop that shit with your hands. Now.”

Nothing visibly changes but Chris goes quiet again, staring straight down. His hands stop moving. His shoulders are hiked nearly to his ears and Jake wonders if the handler holding him by the neck tightened his grip. 

“How old are you, trainee?” The handler asks the question heavy with loaded double-meanings, obvious enough Jake can read them. Give the right answer or get hurt. 

“Eighteen,” Chris whispers, with wide scared eyes. Everyone in the room seems satisfied with the blatant, obvious lie.

“Good. And is that the legal consenting age?”

“… yes.”

“Good boy.” The handler pets heavily through Chris’s hair, and the boy shudders in disgust - Jake has never seen him react to touch like that, not from anyone. Just one more sign of a person that’s been totally erased. 

“Pl-please, please don’t, please don’t-don’t, don’t touch me-”

“That’s not an option available to you any longer,” The handler says, pulling the black stick from his belt - and Jake knows what those are, he knows exactly what those are, he’s had one raining down on his back and his ribs and his arms now, had one stuck against his knee to force electric shock into his nerves. He wants to push back, but he’s so, so tired. “Your options are to take the touch as it’s given and thank me for it, or…” He taps the black stick on the back of one of Chris’s hands. The boy’s hand jerks back, but when the handler tsks, clicking his tongue against his teeth, Chris lays the hand slowly back out on the table.

“Why would you ever tape this?” Jake asks, barely aware his mouth is moving.

“Lunchtime entertainment,” Everly replies, blithely. The two of them watch as Chris says something, but there’s a strange rushing sound in Jake’s head and for a second, he’s so… furious… that he can’t even hear. All he can do is stare, the rushing sound drowning him out, and then the black baton comes down on his fingers and Jake cries out, as Chris’s mouth opens in a painful wail, as he tries to pull his hands protectively back to himself only to have them forced back onto the table again.

And hit again.

And again.

And again.

Jake’s going to be sick all over the floor if it goes on any longer. 

The man who has been watching, hidden in the corner, laughs at the sight. He laughs harder, louder, when the handler forces Chris to thank him for the pain. 

It’s his laugh that Jake recognizes, finally. It’s the laugh that turns him from shadowy and familiar to a face that Jake’s seen on TV a dozen times or more. Jake has protested his speeches on the human pet industry, has written essays on the complicity of government in human atrocities with this very man in mind, but when he was thinking of complicity he was never, ever thinking of this.

“You sold him to the fucking Governor?” 

No wonder he’s so fucking cozy with WRU. They sold him a goddamn teenager for a personal toy-

“Took you long enough.” Everly pats him on the head, good dog, and Jake jerks away from the touch, thinking of Chris doing the same - and how he pushes into every touch now, good or bad, can’t tell the difference. Has to be told, over and over again. How many days without letting me sleep would it take to get me to give in like that? “Watching you watch this… you know who that kid is. You’ve seen him before. Lie to me or don’t, your face gave it all away. Our informant told us you’ve been bringing a kid who fits the description to your classes.”

Oh, God. The raid was my fault.

On the screen, Chris is signing the contract, hands shaking, the handler’s palm still laying flat against the back of his neck, over the heavy black collar he has around his throat. 

“Just a homeless kid,” Jake grinds out, staring at Chris’s terrified shadowed face. Watching as he’s dragged back out, stumbling, with the handler’s grip iron-tight on his thin arm. Chris was tapping in the video, Jake thinks. He tapped before, that’s part of him, not something he picked up. Did he hit his head, before, too? “Could’ve been him. Wouldn’t know. He left.”

“Different story than where we started when I brought you in,” Everly remarks. He puts a hand on the back of Jake’s neck. Rubs his thumb, back and forth, just at the nape where skin and soft, short hair meet. 

Just like the handler in the video, with Chris.

“Who called?” Jake asks, holding himself very, very still under the touch. He’s seen Antoni go like this, he thinks - just holding himself like a statue, his eyes straight ahead, not looking. When he has a bad night and spends the day on edge, when any little thing sets him off. “Who told you it was us?”

If it was that fucking frat guy - he’s in one of Jake’s classes, he’s probably seen him with Chris, could even have seen him doing yoga over on the grass, could have seen them in the coffee shop or eating lunch in the big seating area, anywhere, really - Jake will hunt down which frat he’s in and personally set the whole goddamn house on fire, starting with that asshole’s bedroom-

“A Professor Gregory Barnham,” Everly says. The words mean nothing to Everly. They mean entirely too much to Jake.

“My fucking Ethics in Political Philosophy professor?” For a second, his brain just refuses to reconcile what he’s been told. He’s been careful in that class. He’s kept his head down, stayed quiet, and the professor never told him not to bring Chris and the professor has smiled at Chris. Said hello. Nice guy, if definitely not super into the pet lib thing, and Jake had been so careful, bringing Chris in the back, keeping him carefully separate from the other students. 

Not careful enough.

That son of a bitch saw Jake with a kid who was slowly coming out of his shell and he thought, better call WRU on this one. Better have that kid all fucked up again.

He’s probably not going to go back to that class. He’s probably going to fail it. He’s probably going to spend the next week convincing himself not to light the professor’s house on fire, and feeling like he kind of owes Frat Guy an apology for assuming the worst.

Sorry, dude, you trusted my intentions enough to be fuckin’ vulnerable about your shitty fucking fraternity buying a fucking preson, I decided to repay the favor by assuming you’re the asshole who could have gotten my family killed-

Jake doesn’t think about calling them his family. The word doesn’t even register in his tired mind. It’s just there, the foundation of the thought.

“Why tell me who called in?” Jake asks. He can’t figure out this guy’s angle. He’s giving Jake too much information, isn’t he? Showing him Chris’s video, the contract signing of an underage kid, the fucking governor the one apparently buying him… telling him who called him in… why give him all of this? Why give him all this information?

He’s too exhausted to try and outthink him. He… just doesn’t get it. He needs three days of sleep and probably some serious medical attention at this point, and he can’t even begin to try and think through this until he gets at least one of those things.

“Already told you, numbnuts.” Everly lets go of him, and Jake breathes a sigh of relief as he steps away. “I’m making you nice and angry. Go on, Jakob Collins Stanton. Go be the face of the fuckin’ movement. I can’t wait to see your fuckin’ dumbshit expressions on TV. Go on, Stanton. Get real… fucking… angry.”

Jake sees the black baton unhooked from the guy’s belt in the corner of his eyes, and his muscles tense, but he doesn’t move. 

“Why tell me it was the Governor?” He asks, but the baton is already swinging at his head. When it connects, Jake’s head smacks forward into the metal table, he drops to the ground, and everything goes black.

He wakes up and the metal table and chairs are gone. The TV and its little wheelie tray are gone. The zipties on his wrists are gone and his shoulders scream as he pulls his hands forwards, looking at how deeply the plastic dug in. His head is pounding, throbbing, and he feels even more exhausted than he did before.

He cries, for a while. There’s a cop in the room who doesn’t stop him or help, just kicks a box of Kleenex across the floor.

Eventually they tell him he’s been charged with resisting arrest, but that his bail’s been paid. No one tells him but he sees a calendar on his way out, limping heavily, walking in bloodstained jeans and T-shirt looking like he lost a fuck of a fight, and realizes he’s been here for three days.

Chris has been alone for three days.

Any hint of pain Jake is feeling is washed away by the panic that takes its place. Chris can’t handle being alone that long. He needs touch, needs it, the constant never-ending compulsion for human contact that all of the ones like him have. Who even knows what he’d do - go next door or let anyone who knocked in or, shit, just start testing people, like he does, and that could get him hurt or killed or taken advantage of or-

Unless Nat…

“Uh, um,” Jake stumbles over his words, and the cop glances at him, dismissive. “Natalie… Natalie Yoder. The woman with me. Is, is she… was she let go before me, or…?”

The cop gestures ahead of himself, and Jake raises his eyes to see Nat sitting on a bench with a vaguely familiar man that Jake has never actually spoken to before, although he’s seen him watering flowers outside his yard. He looks like some kind of cowboy. 

Natalie looks like hell - rings around her eyes and a few bruises littered across her face - but he can tell he looks worse, because both she and the man who lives across the street from the shelter recoil when they see him.

Natalie jumps to her feet. “Jake, what the hell-”

Jake walks to her, as fast as the cop will let him, and nearly collapses against her, resting his head on her shoulder. She puts one hand up over his hair on the back of his head and the other around him, holding him tightly. “I resisted arrest,” Jake says. “Apparently.”

“Yeah,” Nat murmurs. “Me, too. Jefferson here’s our neighbor, he’s come to take us home.”

“Is… everyone safe, there?” Jake asks, low-voiced, just above a whisper. 

“We’ll talk in the car. Come on, we’re all paid up, they’re ready to sign off on us going. I… didn’t know about your dad, Jake.”

Jake stiffens and pulls away from her, looking away. “Yeah, well. I didn’t know about your job history, did I? We both kept secrets.”

There’s a silence, long and uncomfortable, broken only by the sounds of the department around them - people working at computers, talking on phones, chatting over coffee. It makes Jake think of the lawyer in the video, sipping her coffee before they dragged a teenager in to sign his life away, watching with a passive, uncaring expression while they beat his hands with a baton.

“Guess we have some things to talk about in the car on the way home, huh?” Nat says, trying for cheer. When Jake responds with silence, she sighs. “Fair enough. I should have told you.”

“Yeah. You should have. I have some other stuff to tell you, too, about who called-”

“I know,” Nat says, heavily, rubbing at her eye with one fist, looking oddly like an exhausted toddler. “They told me. That landscaping company that works down the street.”

“Wait.” Jake frowns, looks around. No one’s really looking at them, now. “Wait. I got told it was one of my professors.”

“You did?” Nat hesitates. “Then they gave us two different stories, Jake. So… which one is true?”

“If you ask me,” Jefferson says, in a soft, unobtrusive voice, “probably neither of them. Come on, we can continue this little guessing game in my car, yeah? I’ve laid down some towels, I had a feeling you might still be, um… bleeding… like that.”

They leave the police station in silence, Jake sitting in the backseat of Jefferson’s ancient Subaru, beat half to hell but the thing’s still running, somehow. All he can think of is getting home to Chris, keeping his promise. 

“Look,” Nat says, after they’ve sat in silence other than Jefferson’s quiet NPR playing from the car’s radio. “When I started the job-”

“Not yet.” Jake cuts her off, and his voice is harsher than he means it to be. His eyes have closed and he’s not sure how he’ll ever open them again. “Chris first.”

“You know, your, um… Chris is really doing fine-” Jefferson starts.

“Don’t care. I don’t want to think about anything else just yet.” Jake’s face throbs. His head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton dipped in acid. His shoulders ache, his wrists look like they’ve been wrapped in razorwire, one of his ribs is probably bruised, he knows his torso is a fucking mess of black and blue, he’s exhausted and starving and pissed off and all he can think about is that fucking handler saying, go on, Stanton. Get real fucking angry.

What does it mean that they want him to be? And if they gave he and Nat two different stories about who turned them in, which one is true? What if neither of them is? What’s their plan? Or is there one? Maybe they just want him to get paranoid and freaked out, see if he stumbles, fucks it up. Maybe this is all just to get him wondering exactly who is out to get him.

Maybe Everly just thought it’d be fucking funny to get him all worked up.

He can’t think about this now. He’s too tired, he’ll only make the dumbest fucking decisions if he tries.

No, he just…

He just has to get home to Chris.

Keep his promises, first. Figure out everything else after that.

Told you I’d come back for you, man. 

Jake thinks of the boy in the video, asking about his Aunt Jo, the look of crumbling sorrow in his face at their reply.

I made a promise to you, and I’m going to keep it.

But I am definitely real fuckin’ angry.