#no need to be grumpy all the time vicky

[cherubcameron]

Safe & Sound

Steve Harrington x reader

The arrangement started because Steve couldn’t sleep. Nightmares were beginning to become too much. He rarely slept and it became more evident when he slept throughout his shift at Family Video. Keith was beginning to complain to him about him constantly sleeping during the job. One night, he decides to call you.

“Hey, I know this may be a lot to ask for, out of you. But I really, really can’t sleep.”

In most cases, you wouldn’t have had Steve Harrington calling you in the middle of the night. But after the evil Russians and Vecna. And the fact that he saved you not once but twice. You owed him.

“What’s up? What do you need?” You asked.

A twenty minute drive later, you were curled around the boy. Stroking his cheek, as his eyes fluttered but didn’t close. Your own eyes becoming heavy. Up close you could see the freckles on his skin, his eyes were looking at you. He was mumbling as he tried to sleep.

“I really really couldn’t have done this without you. It’s hard to sleep. All I see his scary face and-.” That’s when his speech would slur and his eyes would close. Before he would open them again out of fear. His chest heaving. He’d remember you were there and his heart would slow and he could breath again.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. You can sleep now.” You said, still stroking his cheek. Finally, his eyes were closed and his breathing began to become rhythmic. He was fast asleep and you followed him after.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“All I’m saying, is that it’s kind of weird. Especially-.”Dustin said, pausing to eat the pudding Steve bought him. “Especially since you guys aren’t dating.”

Steve rolled his eyes, this was the third week of you two sleeping in the same bed together. No sex, just needing a good night of rest. He knew Dustin wouldn’t understand that. No matter how many traumatizing things the kid went through, he could sleep through a typhoon.

“I can’t sleep. Neither can she. So we sleep together. It’s completely innocent.” He said.

“Nothing you do Steve Harrington, is innocent with a girl.”

Steve shook his head, maybe there was some truth to Dustin’s words. But as he pulled into Robins house, that thought dissolved. There you were with her. Laughing at something she had said. Robin noticing his car, walked over to him. His eyes were stuck on you as you both walked over.

“Hey dingus. How come Dustin’s in the passenger seat?”

“Nope! Nu-uh!I called dips this time. Sit in the back, Robin.” You laughed at Dustin’s ourburst. Robin opened the back seat and let you in first. A grumpy look on her face as she did so.

“Heyyy Y/n, what brings you with us on this voyage today?”

“Voyage? Seriously?” Dustin turned to Steve and mhmed before turning back to you.

“My car broke down. Steve offered to drive me to work.” Dustin made an ahh face at you and smiled brightly at Steve.

“Okay, enough weirdo ness. Let’s go.” Steve pulled out the street and began to drive. Robin began her constant talk about Vickie. How things were beginning to progress with her. She finally got a date with her and she was nervous.

“She said this Friday. We’re going to the movies. But what if I miss up. Like what if I put too much butter in the popcorn. Or not enough. Or I buy all the wrong snacks and she thinks I suck. I get her the wrong drink and she hates me for li-.” Robin said as she began to blabber as she usually did.

“Robin.” Steve said.

“I just really don’t want to miss things up. I always always-.”

“Robin.” You said.

“I don’t want this to be weird for her-.”

“Robin!” You and Steve said at the same time. Robin finally stopped talking, she stared at everyone in the car before wincing.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” She said, looking down at her lap. You placed a hand on her forearm.

“It’s going to go great. Because you’re an amazing and fun person to be around. It’s easy to say to not sweat it. But I promise you, she’s probably just as nervous as you are.” You said, eyeing the girl with compassion.

“You think so?” She said.

“Oh no, definitely. Probably trying to figure out your favorite snacks too.” Steve chimed in.

“What movie you’ll like to watch. She’s probably freaking out. This is just to put things to perspective.” You said.

Dustin was quiet. Which struck you as unusual. He also had a smile on his face. One that reminded you of someone who knew something others didn’t. Steve pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot and let both Dustin and Robin get out the car.

“Have a fun day you two!” You both said at the same time. Dustin and Robin both smirked at the two of you. You rose your eyebrows but thought nothing of it. You turned to look over at Steve who was gulping.

“You okay, Stevie?” You asked, he nodded and smiled. “Yeah I just- nothing. It’s nothing.” You rose your eyebrows at him but he just turned up the radio.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You were fast asleep next to him again. You had thought he’d fallen asleep. But he had pretended so he could watch you as you slept. You looked so peaceful, he couldn’t help the smile that came onto his face. He knew he was falling for you. He couldn’t have helped himself or stopped himself if he tried.

He felt himself escaping into his dreamscape, hoping it wasn’t a nightmare. He let himself, as long as you were here he was safe.

“Dustin! No!” He woke up with a start, you were trying to shake him awake. Tears were springing from his eyes. The nightmare was always the same and usually when you slept with him. It never came but for some reason it did this time.

“Shhh, shhh it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” You said, you wrapped your arms around his neck, his head falling on your chest. He held you tightly.

“I’m sorry I-.” He was trying to say that he never cried in front of a girl before. Nor did he ever have anyone see him wake from his nightmares but the words didn’t come out.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here, I promise.” You said, hugging him close to you too. He finally went to sleep in your arms. The nightmare didn’t come back.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“You’re in love with her Steve, just admit it to yourself.” Robin said, shaking her head. You hadn’t join them this time on the ride to school. You finally got your car back. —Dustin was in the back grumbling about the passenger seat.

“I-.” He said, sighing greatly than he tapped the dashboard. “Yeah I am, is that a crime?”

“I told you so.” Dustin said, from the back. Steve made a face at him through the mirror. Dustin gave one back. “Nothing about your situation was going to be innocent.”

Steve sighed again, if only you knew how much his heart was yours. Once he dropped them off, he was alone to contemplate it. He knew from the beginning he would fall for you. You were beautiful to him. You’d always managed to make him laugh. And you were so kind, it hurt to ever hurt you. He didn’t know what to do, it felt wrong to continue when he knew how he felt about you. So he knew he had to end it.

It was both of your days off and he knew you didn’t have to go to your classes at college. So he walked up to your house, you didn’t live that far from him. He went to knock on your door and stopped. The nightmares were just going to come rushing back. He didn’t know if he’ll be able to handle that. But he knew this wasn’t an innocent thing anymore. But before he could knock, you were opening the door with your dog. The dog wagged his tail and barked at Steve. Steve smiled down at him and he reached out a hand to touch him. The dog brought his head closer to be petted.

“Stevie! What brings you here?” You said, happily. Steve smiled at you but the smile faded slowly. He knew it was for the best for you both.

“We need to talk.” He said, he saw the way your face screwed into concern and worry. So he made it quick. “We can’t sleep together anymore. It’s not right, I- I love you and not in a oh you’re my best friend. We sleep together so I don’t have nightmares. No in a, I love you so much I dream now about being with you. Kissing you. Having kids with you. And I think about you all the damn time-.”

You stopped his talking with your lips. His eyes widen at first. But he melted into the kiss, letting you hold him as you did so. The dog barked between your legs. You pulled away first and smiled up at him cheekily. He smiled back.

“I love you too Stevie. And not in a best friend, we sleep together to chase away your nightmares. But in a I love you so much I want to be with you every moment of everyday. And I want to be the reason why you don’t have any nightmares anymore.” You said. His cheeks flushed red and you laughed. You caressed his face and he knew. Steve knew you were the love of his life.

“So we’re-.” He asked, trying to test out the waters.

“Boyfriend and girlfriend. Yeah.” You said.

“Yes!”

“We did it!” You saw both Dustin and Robin coming out of your bushes. You and Steve had your hands on your hips.

“What are two doing outside of school?” Steve asked.

“You’re not skipping are you?” You asked.

“Sorry mom and dad.” They both said, walking away slowly. Their heads down. You shook your head and looked back up at Steve.

“You’ll think we raised them better than that.” He said, you laughed and kissed him on his cheek.

[louloulemons-posts]

The Criminal And The Princess II

Grumpy!College!Eddie X Sunshine!Skater!Reader

Summary : Edens dad is pushing her to breaking point, but when Steve Harrington suggests going to a gig, they stumble upon who she never thought she’d see.

Word Count : 2k

Warnings : not much eddie (i’m sorry), shitty parents, once again talk of eating, girlhood, nancy is sad, swearing, billy hargrove.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Again!”

“Dad I have to go I have class,” I sighed, skating towards him. “Regionals are coming up how are you expecting to win if you’re still so sloppy?” he snapped at me.

“Maybe I don’t want to win! Maybe I don’t even wanna go to fucking regionals!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“Your mother-“ I didn’t give him the chance to finish, “I’m not mom!”

With a deep breath, i spoke calmly, “I know you miss her, god dad I do too, but me skating, won’t bring her back.” The man who I love so dearly didn’t say a word, his dark eyes stern. “Just go Eden.”

“Dad-“

“And don’t worry about dinner on Friday.”

“Dad come on-“

“You need to lose the weight anyways.” I sucked in a breath, but said nothing more as I watched the greying man walk up the stairs and slamming the door to his office.

Rubbing my hand to my face I sat down on the cold plastic bench, taking off my skates and replacing them with my trainers. Throwing my oversized hoodie on, I headed out of the rink and to my car.

“E!” a voice called out.

“Harrington,” I replied, as the brunette jogged over the parking lot to me. “Hey- woah you look like shit!”

“Yeah 4:30 starts will do that to a girl,” I shrugged, throwing my bag in the back.

“Sorry that was rude of me,” he said, but I brushed him off with a smile. “What can I do for you Stevie boy?”

“So my friend has gig after the match on Friday, I was wondering if you wanted to come? Obviously I’ve invited the rest of the gang.”

“Did you really just say gang?”

“Yeah, I regret it, shut up. Do you wanna come?”

“I have training the next-“ my brows furrowed, dad’s words echoing in my head, “You know what, yeah it sounds fun.

“Great, I’m gonna text Robin all the details so, I’ll see you around.”

“See you.”

Well that was something to look forward too.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sat in class the professor droned on and on, Vickie was almost asleep besides me. I felt my phone buzz in pocket, taking it out I saw a message from Robin.

Robs : soooo a little dingus said you’re coming to a certain gig this friday? 👀

E : figured it was time i had some fun

E : lets be honest its a rare occasion

Robs : im actually so excited for this!!!!!

E : yeah me too, and you’re gonna be extra excited when i tell you who else is coming 😚

Putting my phone down on my notebook I nudged Vickie. “Hm,” she said rubbing her eyes, then brushed an auburn curl from her face.

“Sorry did I fall asleep?” I huffed a laugh,

“A little, but that’s not why I’m waking you. Are you free Friday?”

“I think so yeah, what’s up?”

“Wanna come to a gig?”

“Who’s gig?”

“Not sure yet, but me and a few friends are going, Nancy, Steve, oh and you know Robin right?”

“R-robin?” she stuttered.

“Yeah! I could text you the details, it’d be nice to hang out when we’re not studying.”

She nodded, cheeks flushed slightly, “Yeah cool, just text me.” I returned the nod, picking my phone back up.

Robs : who???

Robs : ????

Robs : did you die???

E : lmao no very much alive

Robs : who’s coming???

E : Vickie

Robs : …

E : love youuuuuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Robs : EDEN I SWEAR TOENDJSKSJSKSJJDJD

With a laugh I put my phone away and attempted to focus on this mind numbing lecture.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Friday rolled around really quickly, people were so ready for the weekend already. Who knew summer break would be missed already.

“I’m still not over the fact your dad said that to you?” Nancy said, whilst taming her curls.

“It’s fine, it’s not like it’s out of the ordinary.”

“Are you sure I can’t kick him in the throat?”

“I really don’t wanna have to bail you out of jail Robs.”

She hummed, “Yeah that’s true, would not look good for my future.”

“Dads are so shit!” Nancy exclaimed out of nowhere. “Nance-“ I began.

“No! I Robins dad walked out, your dad bullies you and my dad acts like I don’t fucking exist. Why do these men have kids and then treat them like trash?”

The girl was flinging her arms around like crazy, huffing angrily. “Nance, but the hairbrush down you’ll hurt yourself,” Robin said. The girl placed it to the floor, kneeling down behind her, I met her gaze in the mirror.

“What happened?” I asked. She looked at me with glassy eyes. “Mom called, yesterday she was going out to that meal, you know the one for her friends birthday?”

Me and Robin both gave her affirming nods, “Well Mike was working a shift at the record store and dad was picking Holly up from school,” she let out a shaky breath.

“It’s okay,” I said, hugging her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. “He forgot her, was sat at home watching a game. She was there for hours, when Mike came home he found him passed out on the couch.”

“Is Holly okay?” Robin asked, sliding off Nancys bed and down next to us. The brunette nodded, “Yeah, a teacher stayed with her and Mike went to get her. Mom got so mad and then you know what he said?”

I rubbed her shoulder, and Robin squeezed her hand. “He said, ‘Oh Nancy was supposed to get her,’” she choked on a sob, “He didn’t even know I was gone!”

“Oh Nance,” I said, pulling her back to hug me, Robin went to her front, wrapping her arms around us both. “Dads are the worst,” Robs said. “They really are!” I agreed.

“I swear Jonathan, Will and El are the only ones who got a decent one!” Robin laughed. “H-Hoppers a good man,” Nancy sniffled.

“You know what we’re gonna do tonight?” I asked pulling away from the hug, going to face Nancy, I wiped the tears from her face.

“What?” she asked.

“We’re gonna go to that game and cheer on our guy Harrington! And then, we’re gonna go to that gig and drink and dance and celebrate the badass women who raised us!”

“That sounds like the best plan,” Robin smiled, “You up for it Nance?”

“Yeah! Let’s go celebrate our moms.”

“And also get Robin a girlfriend!”

Me and Nancy laughed as Robin fell back, groaning into her hands. “What about you? You got your eye on anyone?” Nancy asked, cleaning up her tear stained face.

“Nah.”

“Oh come on E!”

“Seriously there’s nobody,” I laughed. “Plus I’m happy enough being wingwoman, I mean you and Johnny are getting to 2 years now?”

“Yeah,” the girl couldn’t hide her smile, “Speaking of, he’ll be here soon so, get ready!” She shooed us out of her room with a laugh.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Come on Harrington!” I cheered, jumping up and down. The game was almost over and our guys were down 6 points. Jonathans friend Argyle let out a loud whoop as the puck hit the back of the net.

“Let’s go dingus!” Robin shouted. I looked up from the ice briefly, my eyes meeting my fathers. His face looked like its normal stern self, but he looked sad?

I know I shouldn’t have yelled at him, specially not about mom, but god he shouldn’t have said the things he did either.

Suddenly I felt arms wrapped around me and the siren went, signalling the game was over. “We won!” Robin screamed. I looked at the score board, we were up by 2 points.

With a smile, I put my arms around the girl, giving her a squeeze. Leaning over the side of the seats, Steve walked past, “Go on Harrington!” we all cheered for him, making him smile bashfully.

“I’ll meet you guys after,” he said walking away. “No cheers for me Eden?” a vile voice came. “In your dreams Hargrove.”

“Oh they’re more than cheers in the dreams gorgeous.”

“Gross, “Robin said from behind me.

“You okay Benny?” Jonathan asked. Benny was a nickname he’d decided on when we were in kindergarten, apparently Eden was a weird name, but I thought Johnathan was too old so,” All good Johnny.”

The rink soon cleared out and we decided to wait by our cars for Steve. “Eden,” a deep voice called from behind. Dad was stood at the end of the hallway, Robin held my hand, Nancy appearing on the other side.

“It’s okay, I’ll catch up,” I said, walking towards the man. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I … I just wanted to apolo-“ he was cut off when the team of hollering boys ran by, Steve being one of them.

“Coach Bennett,” the boy smiled, swinging his arm over my shoulder. “Steve, good match,” the man offered him a smile, I hadn’t had one of those in a long time.

“Sorry I interrupted,” Steve spoke.

“It’s okay, what did you want to say dad?”

“Take a break this weekend, no training, but I expect you to do a morning and evening practice on Monday. Yrene is back from maternity leave so she’ll be training you.”

I sighed, but spoke through gritted teeth, “Great, thanks dad.” I turned to Steve, “Let’s go,” almost dragging the boy down the hall.

“We could get lunch on Sunday?” My dad called after me.

“What?”

“Lunch. I know dinner isn’t an option tonight, go have fun. Let me know if you’re free Sunday.” I gave him a nod, before I did drag Steve down the hall.

“That was weird,” he said when we got out into the fresh hair, you could feel that autumn was rolling around fast. “I know, who knew that Ethan Bennett wasn’t always an ass,” I said.

“Everything okay?” Nancy asked as we headed to the car. “Yeah all good, now let’s go!”

“What’s the name of the band your friends in again?” Jonathan asked.

“Corroded Coffin, and I gave you the address right?” Jonathan nodded, consuming, “The hideout right?”

“Yeah that’s the one, E does that friend of yours need a ride?”

I felt Robin go stiff beside me, “Vickie? Nah she’s being dropped off by her brother.”

“Cool, let’s go then!”

“I swear I’m gonna kill you,” Robin muttered. “What was that?” She gave me a sickly sweet smile, linking our arms, “Nothing!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The bar known as The Hideout was packed, I recognised some faces from college, everyone was here to have a good time. Onto your second drink, I smiled as I saw a familiar redhead.

“Vickie!” I called out.

“Hey,” she smiled, making her way through a crowd of people. “Come and meet the guys.” Taking her hand I led her over to my friends.

“Everyone!” I shouted to get their attention, “This is Vickie, we’re in history together.”

She raised a hand, offering a smile to them. “Vickie this is Steve, Nancy, Jonathan,” he cringed when I said his name,” Argyle and you know Robin.”

“Yeah, hi,” she smiled.

“Hey um … can I get you a drink?”

“Uh yeah sure, cool.” Oh my god they were so cute. When the pair walked away me and Nancy squealed.

“Alright folks we have our next act of the evening for you, give it up for Indianas own, Corroded Coffin!” A man shouted into the mic.

The five of us walked into the crowd getting to the front, standing by the stage, I was excited to see Steve’s buddy.

Out walked 3 boys, one sitting behind the drum set and the others picking up guitars. Taking a sip of my drink, I regretted it right away, almost choking when I saw the final member walk out on stage.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.

“Good evening Indiana!” he shouted. He looked so different, so alive, his curls falling down his back, freely allowed to do so. His dark eyes shining with mischief and joy.

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to rock your world for the next hour or so! Are! You! Ready!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

They meet again 👀

This part was mainly me healing the parental issues in stranger things with friendship lmao.

taglist : @gnrquinn @flawiette @taylorswiftsloverfr @mygirlchaos @marvelcasey05 @ali-r3n @browneyes8288

let me know if you want to be added 🫶🏻

[sparkypantaloons]

School Gates

Jason wants to look just like his favourite hero for his first day of school. None other than... Aquaman?

~

“Jason, darling, are you sure—”

“I can do it.” The five year old cuts Bruce off almost immediately, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as his little fingers tangle in the school tie.

Bruce sighs, but hopes for the best. They’ve been practising tying Jason’s school tie all summer, in preparation for today.

"Go round the roundabout before you go through the tunnel!" Dick's eyes are wide, voice high as he darts forward to correct Jason. The younger boy steps away from him, scowling.

"I can do it!" Jason insists, twisting away from Dick. He screws up his face in concentration, eyes locked on his reflection.

"I told you—" Dick tries again

"I CAN DO IT." Jason says,loudly.

"No shouting." Bruce says from where he's been fumbling in his closet. He's trying to find something he can wear on the school run that isn't part tuxedo, part Batman.

"Jason." Dick says, in a carefully controlled not shout, advancing on the smaller boy.

"No, Dickie." Jason warns, trying to block Dick's approach. “I'm doing it—"

"Just let me—“ Dick grunts, reaching for the tie. “—help you—”

Jason tries to fend him off. "I don't need help." He growls, clutching the tie tight in one hand and trying to bat away Dick's attempts for control with the other.

"You're doing it wrong." Dick growls back, using his height advantage to try and back Jason into a corner.

Jason isn't having it, and yanks on Dick's tie as a distraction. It unravels from around the seven year olds neck.

Dick's eyes go wide, "You—"

And then they're wrestling, rolling around on the floor, grunting and shouting as they fight to gain control of the ties. Dick is taller, it's true, but at only five Jason has a lower centre of gravity, and tackles his brother round the legs. Dick crashes to the floor with a shout and a loud thump!

"Hey!" Bruce shouts, emerging from his closet in a pink Barbie hoodie he's pretty sure is Vicki's from years ago and a pair of board shorts. "Both of you!" He claps loudly. "Enough!"

"He started it!" Jason grunts from where he's now squashed beneath Dick, the seven year old furiously trying to keep his younger brother pinned beneath him.

"I did not!" Dick shoots back, but he climbs off of Jason.

Once they're both standing again Bruce groans. Their once meticulously ironed shirts are now all creased. Their previously combed hair, wild once more.

"Alfred doesn't iron your shirts for fun you know." Bruce mumbles, dragging a comb through Jason's curls whilst Dick re-ties his tie.

“Alfred says he shouldn’t ironing them at all.” Dick says nonchalantly, with a pointed look at Bruce. As though the older man’s inability to use an iron is a mortal offence.

"I want a pony tail." Jason declares, totally ignoring Bruce's grumbles about loyalty and priorities. His little head pulls backwards and forwards with the comb. “Like the merman.”

"Jason—" Bruce begins.

"Bruce." Jason says very seriously. "I want a seapony."

Bruce heaves a tired sigh. On the one hand, Jason calling Arthur a merman is utterly delightful, purely for how much it aggrieves their already grumpy, resident Atlantean. On the other hand, it pains Bruce beyond measure that Jason was so enamoured with the obnoxious hero, that he now wants the same top knot Arthur was sporting the one time Jason had met him. All of that, of course, totally disregarding the fact that Jason’s hair is not even remotely long enough for a top knot, and that the best Bruce can manage with his youngest’s curls is more of a palm-tree looking disaster on the top of his head.

“Why do you like Aquaman so much anyway?” Dick asks, licking his hand and smoothing his own hair into place. Gross, Bruce thinks. He thought he’d broken Dick of that habit.

“He can talk to sharks.” Jason says simply. “I bet he can beat the whole Justice League in a fight.”

“Excuse me?” Bruce splutters. “Aquaman can’t beat any of us in a fi—”

“He can SPEAK to SHARKS.” Jason says loudly, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye and the corner of his mouth curl up in a smile. “A shark could just eat a bat and go CHOMP.” He turns under Bruce’s hands, wraps himself around the man’s leg, begins pretending to eat him.

“CHOMP!” Dick adds, because he clearly thinks this a great idea, and then he’s on Bruce’s other leg too, the pair of them in terrible Australian accents, chomping and yelling that ‘bats aren’t friends, they’re food’.

“Why did I have children?” Bruce groans, though it’s only half hearted. Exhausted as he is, he’d take Batman being second best to Aquaman, as long as he’s always number one to these two little monsters.

~

It takes him at least another half an hour to get the boys ready for school and looking at least half way civilised. By the time they’re nearing the school gates, Jason is practically buzzing with excitement. He’s wanted to go to school, since Dick started.

“Okay, bye!” He says loudly, trying to slip out of Bruce’s hand, as soon as the gates are in sight.

“Err not so fast, chum.” Bruce says, clinging tightly as Jason starts to try and writhe out of his grip. “Don’t I get a hug good-bye?”

Jason lets out an enormous huff, but waits patiently as Bruce squats down to his level.

“Be good.” Bruce says, because Jason is good but he’s also totally bonkers. “And remember Dickie is there too if you need him—”

“I won’t.” Jason says confidently.

“Rude.” Dick pouts.

“—and listen to what your teachers tell you, and make sure you eat all your fruit and carrot sticks, and—”

“B, it’s okay.” Dick says, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “We’ll be finished really soon.” He turns to Jason knowingly, “B’s sad because he’s gonna have to spend all day without one of us for the first time ever.”

Bruce clears his throat, begins re-tying Jason’s laces. He was not expecting a seven year old to have dropped that kind of knowledge on him.

Jason’s eyes widen and he pats Bruce on the head. “You can play with my Legos if you get bored.”

Bruce laughs at that. “Thanks bud.” He ruffles Jason’s hair. “Have fun, go learn something.”

“Bye, B.” Dick says, pecking Bruce on the cheek before skipping off towards the gate.

Jason watches him go, then leans into Bruce’s ear. “Bye boodad.” He whispers, because he’d never let Dick catch him still calling Bruce that. Then he skips off too, without a backwards glance.

Bruce watches them go, heart aching bittersweet, feeling just a little bit lost.

~

“If you think you’re going to spend everyday the boys are at school just sulking Master Wayne, you have another thing coming.” Alfred says down the phone, as Bruce makes the walk to school for pick-up. He’s still wearing the Barbie hoodie and board shorts.

Bruce huffs. “I haven’t been sulking.” He replies moodily. “I was brooding, it’s very different.”

He can practically hear Alfred roll his eyes. “Indubitably.”

“Do you know Jason’s favourite member of the Justice League is Arthur?” Bruce says, voice edging into a moan. “Arthur.” He says again. “The only way that’d be worse were if it were Hal.”

“Or Oliver.” Alfred replies, laughing at the Bruce’s horrified silence. “Why don’t you introduce him to Diana. I’m sure she’d sway his affections.”

Bruce grumbles something about wanting to be Jason’s favourite, before promising to call back with what the boys want for dinner.

Moments later there’s a squeal from the gates and Jason and Dick are charging him. Jason practically climbing Bruce’s legs to sit on his hip.

“Hi!” He says breathless.

“Hi chum!” Bruce grins, squeezing the five year old tight, before ruffling Dick’s hair. “What’d you learn today?”

“I did a painting!” Jason says excitedly, pulling it out of his little satchel. “Look!”

It takes Bruce a moment to figure out who the painting is of. There are three strangely formed stick figures, two with black hair and one with white hair. Then a third figure with big black wings and finally what is, inescapably, a merman. Bruce’s smile suddenly becomes very fixed.

“It’s lovely.” He says, ignoring how Dick is sniggering by his side. Then he fishes his phone out of his pocket, and shoots off a quick text.

Diana, free for dinner at mine tonight? —B

Chapter One can be found here.

[2ramunecafe]

WHY SHREK 2 IS BETTER THAN THE PREQUEL

Amongst all animated films the studio, Dreamworks, has produced, the Shrek series or franchise is undoubtedly the most popular of all as it is adored by audience of all ages. Shrek was a film created in 2001 which was directed by Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson. It tells the story of a grumpy ogre trying to protect his home, the swamp, from the fairytale creatures the diabolical Lord Farquaad exiled. In order to get his beloved swamp back, the green ogre must go on a quest to rescue a princess for the Lord to marry. Due to the overwhelming success the movie had, more movies had followed suit and thus the Shrek franchise was born. However, in terms of quality, Shrek 2 is the best movie in the franchise.

According to Allison Picurro of HBO, Shrek 2 is definitive proof sequels can be better than the original. While the source of Shrek 2 already seems flawless, the sequel adds things to the main plot that we never knew we needed. After Lord Farquaad was defeated, Shrek and Fiona got married and spent their honeymoon in the ogre’s beloved swamp which was now shared by the two. All seems well until Fiona’s parents learn of their marriage and request to meet Fiona’s husband, completely unaware of the curse that had struck their daughter and with the expectation of meeting Prince Charming, not an unhygienic ogre. When Shrek comes to the conclusion that the King and Queen of Far Far Away are disappointed at the ogre whom their daughter calls her true love, he sets off to find a way to become human and gain their approval; this led to the introduction of Puss in Boots, Prince Charming and the Fairy Godmother, who were indeed memorable characters in the franchise.

Second, aside from the entertaining plot and introduction of new characters, Shrek 2 also possesses one of the most important elements in a movie: a killer soundtrack. The second movie features hit songs like “Holding out for a Hero,” “Livin’ ‘la Vida Loca,” “Funkytown,” and more. “Holding out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler was sung by Fairy Godmother (Jennifer Saunders) to set the mood for Fiona and Prince Charming’s dance which also set the viewers’ mood for the climax of the movie. This particular scene is one of the reasons this film deserves the number 1 spot on the list of Shrek movies.

However, some fans argue that Shrek is better because of its IMDb ratings of 7.8/10, which is .6 higher than the sequel. But according to Matt Reynolds (2017), movie-ranking sites such as IMDb should be ignored because the ratings are much more biased towards the opinions of men. Men often make up 70% of the voters for films and they tend to favor movies with more masculine themes. Moreover, IMDb ratings don’t really matter as the film went on to win two Academy Award nominations and compete for the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival. The film also garnered a box office of 919.8 million USD, which is two times larger than the original’s box office, making it Dreamwork’s highest-grossing film up to date.

With a box office of 919.8 million USD, Shrek 2 is the best movie to ever come out of the Shrek franchise. Packed with comedic references to pop culture figures and fairytale stories, a killer soundtrack, and entertaining plot with no Lord Farquaad in sight, the sequel properly deserved its success and deserves to be the definitive proof why sequels can be better than the original.

REFERENCES

Picurro, A. Shrek 2 is definitive proof sequels can be better than the originals. HBO Movies.

Sharman, A. (2018, October 30). Unpopular Opinion: ‘Shrek 2’ is Better Than ‘Shrek’. The Harvard Crimson.

Reynolds, M. (2017, October 24). You should ignore film ratings on IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes. Wired UK.

[emocl0wnpp]

can I get a wicked Vicky comfort?

Sure!

(Also this request lowkey surprised me I didn't think anyone would like Vicky enough to request)

☆

☆How Vicky would comfort you☆

+bonus x reader story-

Now,Vicky isn't exactly the ideal person to turn to when you want to be comforted-

Not saying they wouldn't comfort you of course, they would!...they're just....uh..not the best at it

First they'll try to figure out what's wrong,unless you tell them first of course

Once that's set,it's time for the preformance

If you like physical touch,expect a LOT of big and tight bear hugs....just don't let Vicky hug you too tight because you might end up with a few broken bones-

If you don't like physical touch(or just don't want hugs atm),they'll show you cool magic tricks!

Like pulling a bunny out of their hat, making stuff dissappear,the classics!

Or,if you just need space, they'll let you rest in their hat! It has plenty of space...literally,their hat has a whole galaxy in it

They'll also bring you lots of snacks and just things you like!

(Now time for the short x reader! Also bc it wasn't specified more, it'll be about having a bad day,also it can be either platonic or romantic)

★

For some odd reason,nothing was working out today..you woke up mad at the world,your hair wouldn't sit right, everyone was on your nerves,you could only find one half of your socks..today was just terrible in general...luckily,you had a Vicky to fix that!

The second they noticed something was off,you knew they wouldn't let it slide. And just like you thought,they came up to you, quietly observing your grumpy yet sad face.

"You don't seem too happy today..is everyright alright friend?" They asked,peeking over your shoulders.

You explained the situation to them,about your bad day..and those stupid socks you couldn't find the matching half for..Vicky just quietly smiled,patting your back.

"Awee..Don't you worry! I have plenty tricks up my sleeve that'll brighten your mood!" With that,Vicky dragged you over to the nearest table,and put their hat down on it

"Just watch closely!" They spoke,their excitment couldn't be more obvious

Vicky tapped the hat's edge,and out came flying a bird. You watched in amazement as Vicky continued making things,such as your favourite animals,your favourite snacks,even the lost halves of your socks appear from their seemingly empty hat.

After a whole circus act,your mood was finally fixed,and you and Vicky spent the rest of the day watching some silly movie,all cuddled up and cozy on the couch.

I hope you enjoyed it!

Also it's my first time writing something like this so pls don't judge too much-

[horrendous-bisexual-showdown]

Poll 1

Dina Becher (It/Its) by @sanfielle

Why Should Your OC Win?

where do i even start. dina is a short king. its a disaster bi whose whole life has been dictated by the whims of forces outside its control. the embodiment of the whole universe talked to dina just to tell it dad jokes the entire time. dina played too much LoL growing up and has had its vocabulary permanently impacted by this. it started playing a stupid game that spawned it into a firey hellzone. its the most unlucky person in the world. help it out a little. it needs some kind of W. please. please

What is Your OC Like?

looks: pretty short, short brown hair in dreads, light to mid brown skin, hazel eyes, default expression is nervous or grumpy.

personality: lonely, paranoid, and determined. it just wants to have fun and be itself but there are noobs to pwn and ladders to walk under.

dina is from my webcomic PROLEGOMENON, available on neocities.org ^_^

Vicki Monrovia Jr. (She/Her) by @dragonquest-ix

Why Should Your OC Win?

She accidentally overthrows the government of the largest city on the planet through an unplanned series of murder and robbery she's great.

What is Your OC Like?

Vicki Monrovia is a bandit first and foremost. She's a trans woman batgirl and carries a giant axe with her everywhere she goes. She has coke-bottle glasses and a minecraft hat from when she used to scavenge instead of steal. She's promiscuous and loves all forms of vice, from gambling to substances, and she's probably already stolen your wallet. Sorry!

[vancilart]

hello my baby hello my honey hello my ragtime gaaaaal~

[alrighty-matty]

breakfast and headlines

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: with every scrutiny of the press’ eyes on you after Bruce’s grand, stupid, and scandalous stunt, you decided to take the matter to your own hand. part two of flashes and hallways.

Warning: SPOILER FOR THE BATMAN! kinda? i referenced a lot of things that happened in the movie so beware!

Note: the thing that i love about being a fic writer is watching everyone screaming at me for having a horny thought about fictional dudes and that’s honestly very validating. also thank you for the love you give for flashes and hallways! <3

read flashes and hallways here

Bruce always had the knack to take you by surprise.

Even in his own home, his footsteps were light and undetected, almost as if he could conjure himself up out of the thin air. Ever since a kid, he somehow always managed to sneak on you—no matter how many times you tried to deduce his surprise—he always had a trick underneath his sleeve. You never knew which way he would come.

The sight of him walking to the dining room every morning, a surprise that cracked through his stoic face every time his eyes landed on you, and the slight quirk of the corner of his lips had become a routine to your morning lately. Even this had taken you by surprise. After all that happened, you never thought he would be a part of your routine again.

Alfred could use a company, you reasoned, especially after the incident. God knows what Bruce was up to, and he was never a morning person. You spared every few hours in the morning just to visit him and chat over a cup of tea before you head off to work, the welcoming smile embedded in Alfred’s face was a balm to your otherwise very chaotic days ahead.

This had nothing to do with Bruce and everything to do with Alfred—even when you stayed a few hours longer and compensated to start your day late just to see him walking to the dining room before you went.

He was early today.

“Very kind of you to join us this morning, Master Bruce,” Alfred greeted him, pausing a very passionate conversation about a crossword puzzle he had just finished last night. “Would you like some tea?”

Bruce squinted his eyes on you, another routine added to your morning. It took a while not to take it personally—although it was hard to scrub over the feeling of his gaze slowly creeping underneath your skin—he just had a hard time staring in a brightly-lit room.

He still had yet to learn how to properly acknowledge your presence in the room—not that you ever acknowledged his presence properly at all. “What do we have for breakfast?” he poured himself a cup of tea, eyes trained on his cup.

You thought you caught him grinning slightly at his tea.

You raised your own cup of tea to hide a frown. Alfred had kindly brewed a very delicious earl grey tea today, your favorite. “Actually, I’m here to pick you up for breakfast,” you said quickly, eyes trained on the newspaper laid on the table almost forgotten. “Outside.”

Bruce snapped his head, lips pressing together in a harsh line. “Outside? Why?”

You picked up the newspaper and smoothed the crinkle out. Vicky Vale wasn’t the only journalist who took interest in whatever stunt Bruce pulled in front of the press weeks ago, but she was the most ruthless. The news of your engagement had put a target behind your back for the media to sniff some worth-to-write news updates, especially with the rumor of Thomas Wayne that was still yet to be addressed.

Bruce was seriously in dire need of a PR team.

“Just because,” you waved your hand dismissively. “Go change, I’ll meet you outside.”

“What’s wrong with the food here?”

“Be quick, won’t you? I’m hungry,” you huffed. “And vitamin D is good for you.”

He was quick but he was grumpy the whole time, his lips pressing together to form a thin line. It wasn’t exactly a frown, but you quickly could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of going outside and fending himself to the outside world—a possibility of encountering a person who recognized him immediately was something he never liked.

The restaurant was fifteen minutes away driving, a quite fanciful place that had become a new hotspot in the city. Glances were subtly thrown your way the moment you entered with Bruce in tow, some were not so much, and some even openly gawking.

The hostess greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into a table next to a big floor-to-ceiling window, facing the street outside, and offered a clear view of the city slowly stirred from its unrestful sleep.

A flash from somewhere—your left?—broke the silence that slowly stretched between you and Bruce.

Bruce glanced over his shoulder momentarily, before he slowly trained his gaze on you. “You planned this,” he started.

“Hmm?” you flipped over the menu, awfully aware that more than one camera firing flashes to capture your sight with Bruce. “What are you talking about?”

“Paparazzi,” he said, voice thick with accusation. You didn’t have to glance up to know his eyebrows knitted together tensely. “They’re hiding behind the tree across the street.”

You glanced up and followed his gaze. Five cameras were sprouting from behind the tall tree across the street, a little subtle to unassuming eyes but not to you—a result of playing hide and seek for years with the scrutiny of the media.

“You roped me into your mess, Bruce. You made us our bed, might as well as lay on it,” you snapped close the menu and stared at him. “If you want to pull some PR stunt, we’re going to play with my rules,” you leveled a stare with him, trying your best to unwavering your gaze at his strikingly blue eyes—you almost forget how damningly gorgeous his eyes were—glancing subtly at a server walking towards your way. “Now, darling, what do you like to eat?”

Bruce huffed out a quiet, shaky breath, throwing his glance away into the space next to you. “I’d have whatever you’re having.”

“Two smoked salmon bagels then,” you smiled widely at the server—a poised young man somehow taken aback at his customer this morning—voice as sweet and thick as honey. “Can we have the roasted sesame dressing for our salad instead? He likes that the best.”

“Leave out the cucumber, please,” Bruce interjected. He muttered the addition and stared into the space behind you, “You hate cucumbers.”

You blinked at him. Bruce always had his way to strike you by surprises, even after all these years. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and muster up your best public smile, trying to steer away from the thought of what-ifs and unanswered whys that you tucked behind your memory and sealed it away tightly—or so you thought—you couldn’t afford to descend into an endless abyss of your own questions.

But right now he was sitting right in front of you, and you missed him even more than you could dare to imagine.

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Here’s that fic I mentioned that I started. The one where Sarah escaped the fire and ended up in hospital with trauma based amnesia and then shows up in January 2015 as Robert and Chrissie’s wedding planner right in the middle of affair era. Someone read the beginning and make me finish it at some point. Haha. I did have it mostly planned out. I just got lazy. 

-----------

It’s Monday morning and Robert’s in the office, tapping his pen against the desk. He’s the first one in, hoping that shows his initiative. Tap, tap, tap turns into Aaron, Aaron, Aaron in his mind. Aaron’s all he can ever think about these days. And right now, Aaron’s mad with him, which grates on him, makes him itch for another touch, another taste that he can’t have until he gets Aaron to change his opinion of him again. He’d managed before, at Andy’s wedding. He can get him on side again. Aaron’s a challenge but he’s a people person. He can do this. And it’s not like Lachlan isn’t perfectly alright again, home from the hospital and back to being a pain and stressing Chrissie out. 

Tap, tap, tap. He should be calling a client back about a shoot they want to book next month but his mind can only focus on Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. 

He pulls out his phone and the taps become a text. ‘Kiss and make up?’ He writes, chuckling to himself. 

It’s Aaron’s birthday today, he knows. Vic had mentioned something the other day and he’d filed away the information in his head. He hopes Aaron doesn’t have big plans. Besides, what better present than Robert shagging him senseless? He doesn’t add that to the message, just smiles and hits send. Now he has to wait. 

The papers on his desk flutter as Chrissie blows into the room, wedding binder clutched in her arms. He doesn’t even think she sees him there as she starts rummaging through every stack of papers she can get her hands on, lines of frustration growing deeper on her forehead. 

“Have you seen the sample that the printer sent over for the order of service?” She asks. So she did see him. He takes too long to respond, so she stops her whirlwind and stares at him. “Robert?”

He makes a show of looking around his desk before shaking his head. “No,” he tells her. “Wasn’t that the whole point of hiring a new wedding planner in the first place? So they can keep all of this stuff straight?”

She huffs at him, looking irritated, which feels like her default with him at this point. He really should do something about that, so he gets up and starts helping her look for the sample which seems to please her. 

She’d fired their first wedding planner, Leyla, after the suit measuring incident. Chrissie just didn’t feel comfortable having her work so closely with her husband to be. It was ironic then that that incident had given him the motivation to seek out Aaron in the first place. He didn’t think much more on that, shifting papers around for a distraction. After that, Chrissie had taken over the wedding planning herself, which was worse, because it meant she checked in with him on everything. He knew more about floral arrangements and place cards and the food allergies of her friends than he ever wanted or needed to know. Still, it had been going alright and Aaron had often given him a much needed reprieve. Then Lachlan had gone and decided to end up in the hospital full of drugs, which was somehow his fault by all accounts and it had all become too much for her. Seating charts and dresses and first dance songs, none of it had been important when poor little Lucky had gotten himself into a mess. Still, there was a wedding to plan because despite being furious with him, he’d managed to make amends enough that she still wanted to marry him and he needed to make sure it stayed that way. All he’d worked for depended on it. 

He’d suggested hiring Leyla back but she wouldn’t hear of it, especially not since Katie had been in her ear again. Instead, she’d hired someone from Hotten and he’d encouraged it. Anything that got him out of being on hand for every decision. Except maybe cake tasting, he thinks he could do that. 

“I still have to show her what I’ve done so far,” Chrissie tells him, looking around frantically. “She’s coming here in half and hour. I need that sample.”

“Then we’ll find it,” he placates her as his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He pulls it out to see ‘A’ pop up on his screen. It makes him smile. He can’t help it but he quickly forces the corners of his mouth down before Chrissie sees. 

‘You think that’s all it’s going to take?’ reads the reply when he opens it. 

His fingers are tapping out a response before his brain can even tell him not to, ‘oh I think you know I can do so much more than that.’ 

His body is singing with nerves as he waits for a reply. 

“I expect you to be here when she arrives,” Chrissie says pointedly once she’s noticed he’s stopped going through the motions of looking for the sample. 

Robert sighs. He really hadn’t planned on sticking around for her meeting, hadn’t even remembered it was happening until right now. “I uh-“ he stalls, trying to think of an excuse. 

His phone buzzes in his hand again. ‘Fine. Barn in an hour. But ur not off the hook yet,’ he reads, picturing Aaron typing with that frown of his that’s not a frown. 

“I’ve got a meeting,” he tells Chrissie. “I can’t.” The amount of meetings he’s lied about in the last month are getting a bit out of hand but what can he do? 

“Surely this is more important,” she sounds cross with him. “Can’t Dad go?”

Lawrence can definitely not take this meeting for him. Still, he needs to keep on her good side or they won’t need this wedding planner at all. Abandoning the search, he sidles up to her, takes her hands in his and flashes that charming smile he’s perfected so well. “This is important,” he tells her, “you know it is. And I promise, I’ll make the next one and you can fill me in on every detail when I get back.” He can’t think of anything more tedious. 

She purses her lips in a pout, making them look so kissable so he leans in and captures them with his. It takes her a second or two of defiance before she’s kissing him back, wrapping her hands around his waist. He loves Chrissie, he reminds himself. For a second, he thinks maybe Aaron can wait. No one is around. He could just push all of the papers off of his desk and...he moves his lips across her cheek and down into her neck, reaching out toward the desk with his hand when he opens his eyes and sees it, the sample, tucked under a file folder that he swears he looked under before. 

“Here it is,” he says, pulling back. “Your print sample!”

Chrissie’s eyes light up. “Perfect!” She accepts it greedily and shoves it into her binder. “You don’t have to go right now do you? To this meeting?”

No, he thinks, licking his lips as he moves closer again, ready for more but she pushes him off. 

“Robert!” She scolds him with a laugh. “She’ll be here soon, the wedding planner. You can at least meet her before you go.”

He sighs, disappointed at being denied. Sex, he’s always been good at that part. It’s the rest of making a relationship work that he’s sometimes rubbish at. “Yes, I’ll meet her,” he says quickly as another text comes through for him. 

‘Well?’ Aaron asks him and he pictures him looking annoyed, glaring at the phone, a crease in his forehead between his eyebrows, but biting at his lip which always makes Robert weak for him. 

“Briefly,” he tells Chrissie, giving her a hug so he can text behind her back. ‘I’ll be there,’ he tells Aaron. To Chrissie, he says, “I really can’t be late to this meeting.”

—-

By the time the wedding planner is due to arrive he’s pacing, back and forth across the living room floor much to Chrissie’s annoyance. He can’t help it though. He knows how stroppy Aaron gets when he’s late. Although, part of him enjoys the grumpiness, the part of Aaron that doesn’t just fall at his feet, that makes him work for it. He must be mad. 

There’s a knock on the door and he’s hot on Chrissie’s heels as she goes to answer it, phone in his hand and ready to text Aaron and say he’s on his way. He’s already trying to think up an excuse if he’s late. Something that’s not ‘I had to meet with our wedding planner’. Nothing kills the mood more than reminding Aaron that he’s not the only one in his life. 

The door swings open and Robert looks up, his phone slipping from suddenly sweaty hands and crashing to the floor. He’s sure his screen’s cracked but that doesn’t matter, his eyes are locked on the ghost in the doorway. 

There’s concern in her eyes as she looks at him, concern he recognizes, remembers, has wished for, for years. It can’t be though. She’s older, but she would be. Her hair’s different, more modern, a bob with a bit of grey in it. Grey like she means for it to be there, like she’s proud of it. There’s still some of her old color too, though he’s sure it’s not real anymore. He doesn’t know if she’s real either. There’s crows feet around her eyes, that are still watching him curiously. Those are new. And then she smiles at him, maybe at Chrissie, but that smile is one he’s longed to see again, filled with the warmth of a home he’s been away from for too long. 

All so familiar but what makes him certain, what makes him blurt out the word as she introduces herself, Vicky Roberts, the wedding planner, is what he sees under the scarf around her neck. It’s there for warmth, he knows, the scarf. It is January in Yorkshire after all. Underneath though, creeping along her skin up toward her jaw is the puckered skin of a scar, a burn. On the hand she extends toward Chrissie there’s another, reaching back under the sleeve of her jumper and coat. 

“Mum?” The word feels heavy on his tongue and it lands like lead in the room as both women turn to gawp at him. 

—-

“Robert!” Chrissie’s voice is sharp, half with surprise and half scolding him like a child for making a scene. She scoops up his phone and if he had any of his wits about him at the moment he’d be glad for the cracked screen. “What are you-?” She starts but then whispers, “Don’t be rude.” 

He feels insane but it’s her, he’s so sure of it. Still, it can’t be. She’s been dead for so long. Surely he’s just seeing things. 

It’s the woman in the doorway herself who makes it feel like he’s not completely lost it. “You-you know me?” She asks, her voice small and tentative. 

“Well of course not,” Chrissie decides for the both of them. “Robert, darling, are you alright?” 

She thinks he’s gone mad. Maybe he has but his mum is standing there in front of him, looking desperate for him to speak again. 

“You’re my-“ It feels ridiculous for him to even say it again. “I think-“ he amends, “I think you’re my mum.” 

—-

She’s sitting in their living room now, his mum, Sarah, Vicky Roberts, and she can’t stop staring at him and he can’t stop looking at her. Chrissie’s moving around their little bubble, bringing them tea, asking how she likes it. 

“One sugar and a dash of milk,” Robert answers for her, the phrase coming back to him. 

“How did you-?” his mum questions through a smile. Chrissie’s waiting, not believing him. “He’s exactly right,” she confirms. 

He watches her sip at her tea and he feels like he’s gone back in time. She doesn’t remember the past though she’d told him. Amnesia from trauma from the fire she was in. She didn’t know anymore than that. Just that she’d been found on the side of the road just outside Hotten with no idea how she’d gotten there. A head wound and burns across her body had left her in a coma for months and when she’d come out of it her mind was blank and she’d been scrabbling around for some kind of familiarity ever since. 

“It was a barn fire,” Robert tells her, twitching at the words as they still bring him pain. He wants to tell her everything, spew out his entire life story and hers all at once, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm her, doesn’t want to ruin this before it really begins. It feels like at any moment she could just blink out of existence and he’ll wake up somewhere, drunk and maudlin about what he could have had. What else could this be but a dream?

She’s listening intently, hanging onto his every word. He’s a link to a past she thought lost forever. “I don’t remember,” she says, her frustration clear and then, “Sarah Sugden.” She’s said it a few times now, trying see how it feels. 

“You must remember something,” he says. “Where did Vicky Roberts come from?” He’s trying desperately to get her to grasp onto something too. What kind of cruel twist of fate to give him his mum back but without any of her left?

“I had to choose a name for myself and those just seemed right somehow,” she tells him. “And you’re...Robert.” She says the name with a thoughtful look and a slight grin on her face, happy that she held onto something. 

He smiles back at her, beaming at the knowledge that some part of him stayed with her. “You have a daughter, my sister. Her name is Victoria,” he explains further, his voice shaking with nerves. 

“A daughter,” she smiles again, working over the concept in her head. There’s sadness there too, he thinks. Sadness that she can’t remember, sadness that she’s missed out perhaps. He feels the same. 

“And...An-Andy,” he trips over his brother’s name, the two syllables stinging his tongue as he thinks about having to tell her it was Andy who started the fire. He can do that himself, Robert decides. Andy owes that to her, to him. 

Chrissie sits down next to him and he realizes he’d almost forgotten she was even here. She takes his hand in hers and squeezes, trying to be a comfort to him but he just feels suffocated all of a sudden. Next to her, in this house. Since he’d been back they’d been things to show off but now he feels almost embarrassed, even if his mum didn’t remember. He wonders what she makes of him, if she’s happy that he’s her son. He was always a disappointment to Jack, but never to her. He hopes that holds true now, deep down. 

—-

An hour later and he’s sitting beside her on the sofa, flipping through the faded, sticky pages of an old photo album, one she had put together once. It’s surreal sitting next to her, leaning over her shoulder and pointing out memories that she doesn’t have. Chrissie sits opposite them, trying get a look at the photos. He realizes he’s never even shown this to her. Trying to get ahead, it wasn’t the best idea to show off his more humble roots. 

“That’s Ollie,” Robert points at the owl in his arms. “I helped nurse him back to health and then I got so attached I didn’t want to set him free again,” he laughs, remembering.

His mum smiles again but nothing connects. 

“And that’s you holding Victoria just after she was born,” he says, running his finger over the plastic page and the photo underneath. 

“It’s so strange,” she stares at the picture, “seeing yourself doing things you don’t remember doing with people you feel like you’ve never met.” She pauses and does what he did, running her hand over the page before looking over at him. “Sorry,” she tells him. “These are all your memories and I can’t share them the way you want me to.”

Robert wants to hug her, tell her to take her time. Even if none of it comes back, she’s still here and alive and he’ll take that right now. He restrains himself though, not sure what she would make of him lunging at her. “Don’t be sorry,” he rushes to say instead. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” she sighs in frustration. “All I’ve wanted for fourteen years is to fill this hole in my brain.” She flips to the next page and stops, staring at a photo of her and Jack. Pointing at him, she turns to him again.

“That’s Dad,” he says, feeling uncomfortable when he thinks about what happened between them, what led her to be in that barn in the first place. 

She stares a moment longer, lines on her forehead deepening as she concentrates on the face of the man she married once. “Jack,” she pulls the name out of thin air and Robert gasps, never so happy to hear his father’s name. 

“You-you remember?” he blurts out. 

She seems surprised herself, sitting up, eyebrows raised. Her mouth opens again, forming the name silently. “I screamed it,” she says, sinking back into the sofa again, closing her eyes around a memory. “I can feel it, the heat closing in, strangling my voice but I screamed his name.” Her body shudders and she reaches up to kneed her forehead between two fingers. 

Again he wants to hug her, wrap her up in his arms and protect her the way he couldn’t back then. He settles on the squeeze of her shoulder, just to let her know that someone is here for her. Her eyes flutter open, startled and he’s afraid he’s made a mistake but then she settles again and leans into his touch. He feels his heart swell in his chest. 

“When I hired you, Robert, I did expect you to actually do some work,” Lawrence’s smug voice shatters the moment as he sweeps into the room, an intruder. 

“Dad!” Chrissie scolds him and shoots Robert an apologetic look as she flies up off of the chair and leads Lawrence back out again. 

A moment and a few whispered words later and he’s poking his head back in, wide eyed yet mistrustful. Robert’s only hated him more when he was faking that heart attack and interrupting his speech at the cemetery. It takes all his self control not to go off on him as he pops back out again. 

“My soon to be father in law who hates me,” he says by way of explanation. 

“Oh Robert, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” his mum tells him and he melts. She sounds so like how she used to and he wants to drown himself in that feeling. 

She seems to feel it too, some connection between them and she looks bewildered by it. He can’t imagine how she must be feeling about all of this. An hour or so ago she was Vicky Roberts, a woman with a blank past and now she finds out she has all of this family she’d forgotten. Her fingers press into her forehead again, right between her eyes, making small circles there and he squeezes her shoulder again, the only thing he can think to do. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

Bringing her hand back down to the page of the album, she shakes off whatever had come over her. “I’ll be fine,” she assures him, still staring at the photo. When she turns back to him she asks, “Jack...your dad, is-”

Robert swallows hard, doesn’t know if she remembers that they weren’t exactly together at the time. He doesn’t know how much this is going to hurt but he can’t lie to her. “He...died a few years ago,” he tells her. 

“Oh,” she sighs, and there seems not to be sadness so much as frustration at a potential connection lost. “And Victoria and...uh...Andy?”

That doesn’t hurt as much to answer. “They’re both still in the village,” he says. “Vic works at the pub. She’s a chef. And Andy...he’s a farmer. Like Dad.”

She looks at him carefully, like she’s studying him. “You didn’t want to be a farmer.” It’s not a question. 

His heart is in his throat. “You remember?” he nearly begs for the answer. 

“It’s all so hazy,” she says, massaging her forehead again. “Like putting together a puzzle in the dark without all of the pieces. This, this is more than I’ve ever remembered before though. Being here, with you, seeing all of these pictures, it’s helping. I-I don’t-I don’t want the memories to stop.” 

Robert smiles at her, his eyes tearing up. He never cries, not anymore, but having her here means more to him than anything else ever could. “I don’t either,” he agrees. “I can take you to the village, to the pub. Vic has a shift today. Maybe it’ll help.” 

“I’d like that very much,” she says, her smile matching his along with the glistening tears in her eyes. 

Chrissie appears in the doorway again, looking like a bit of a spare part and hating it. “Well that’s Dad sorted. Can I get anyone anything else?” 

Robert stands, helping his mum up from the sofa and grabbing her coat from where it was laid over the back. “I was going to take her to the pub actually.” 

“Oh right, of course,” Chrissie spits out quickly. 

Reluctantly, Robert leaves his mum’s side and rounds the coffee table and the chairs and takes Chrissie’s arms in his. “You don’t mind do you? Only-”

“Of course I don’t mind,” she tells him. “Robert this is your mum. If I could have my mum back-”

“I know,” he whispers and kisses her cheek. “And thank you.” 

His mum is by his side again, reaching out towards Chrissie, a hand on her arm above his own. “I’m so sorry. I came here with a job to do and I’ve-well we’ve gotten a bit side-tracked haven’t we?” 

“Don’t be silly,” Chrissie assures her, a warm smile on her face. “This is more important.” 

“And so is my son’s wedding,” she beams back and Robert feels his heart beat just a bit faster at hearing her call him her son. “We will reschedule. I promise.” 

Chrissie nods, tears in her eyes as well as she takes in the moment, mother and son reunited, before shooing them towards the door. With a returned kiss on his cheek, she hands him his coat and wishes him luck.

—-

“I can’t believe it,” Vic just keeps saying over and over again, clutching her blue chef’s hat in tight, shaking hands. “I can’t actually- can I hug you?”

She doesn’t even let her answer before she’s flinging arms around their mum, burying her tear stained face into the folds of her jumper and scarf. For a moment Sarah freezes, unsure, but then something kicks in and she’s wrapping his little sister up in a warm embrace. Jealousy washes over him for a second before he pushes it down, feeling the acute absence of her arms around him. He wishes he had asked for a hug. 

“Let her breathe Victoria,” Diane warns her off with a good natured laugh when the hug lasts a bit too long. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologizes as she backs off, straightening Sarah’s scarf for her. “I just-“

“Can’t believe it?” Sarah finishes for her. “Neither can I. Certainly not what I expected when I took this job.”

“Job?” Vic asks. He didn’t really get a chance to explain the whole thing yet. 

“She’s our new wedding planner,” Robert tells her. “If we haven’t scared her off.” He adds the last bit in, in some desperate need to gauge the situation all of a sudden. 

“Oh that’s perfect, Rob!” Vic’s eyes light up. “Hey does that mean you’re actually going to give me the cake job then? Cause I’ve got ideas-“

“Vic!” He rolls his eyes. She’s been at him for a month now asking about it. 

“I’d love to hear about them,” Sarah tells her, both in wedding planner and mum mode at the same time. “And of course you haven’t scared me off.” 

There’s quiet voices behind them at the door that cease the moment they spot Sarah. Robert turns to see Andy there and the relaxed, warmth he’d been feeling immediately runs cold and his body stiffens. Katie’s on his arm, looking frosty. She still hasn’t forgiven him for the rings and ruining the wedding and normally when he’s reminded of it, he feels mostly smug about even if he wishes he hadn’t done it. Anything to wind her up. Now, he just feels ashamed, standing next to his mum. She’d probably have been furious along with the rest of them if she’d been here.

She could have been here, he thinks, looking at Andy. His brother might not have killed her in the end but he took her from him all the same. All the hatred he had for him back then comes bubbling back to the surface, all compressed and forced into a single withering stare. Andy has the decency to look guilty when he looks at Sarah but he hardly even bothers to glance his way, which only makes Robert all the more furious. 

All these years, he could have had his mum. When Andy and Jack were united against him, he could have had her on his side. He might have done better in school, on his exams, if he’d had her there to encourage him, rather than just his dad’s disappointment hanging over him. He might not have ended up on that road near Wilson’s field, playing chicken and ready to kill his brother. He might never have been sent away, from his home, his family. So many what ifs swirl around in his head, making him dizzy. 

“Hi,” he barely hears Andy say sheepishly even though he’s right in front of him. 

“And you’re Andy,” she replies kindly but her expression looks a bit blank and it makes Robert a bit smug to know he has more of a connection with her than him. 

“It’s so-I can’t believe-I-“ Andy stutters as he studies her. Robert sees the exact moment he notices the burn scars on her neck because his face goes white as a sheet and he blurts out an, “I’m so sorry.” 

There’s tears in his eyes now and Robert’s too although his burn with hatred. Sarah looks taken aback by the display of emotion. She doesn’t have a clue and despite his anger, Robert doesn’t want to be the one to explain it to her. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to. 

“I did it,” Andy blurts again, Katie hanging on his arm, trying to calm him down. The early pub goers are staring now, no one else is really there who knows the tale though. 

“Did what?” Sarah asks, her face contorted in her confusion. The creases in her forehead deepen more as she tries to work out something she feels like she should remember. This isn’t one of those memories she should have though. 

“I’m sorry,” Andy sobs and now Vic’s crying and Diane’s coming around the bar to comfort him and Robert just wants to roll his eyes. Andy’s trying to admit he almost burned his mum alive and they’re still falling all over themselves to be there for him. And what does he ever get? Nothing. 

“Oh Andy,” Diane tries to soothe him. 

Vic chimes in with an “Andy no.”

Robert doesn’t understand why his sister isn’t more upset with Andy for taking her mum away like he is. It only angers him more, his hands balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms. 

“I-I-I did it, I started the fire,” he finally gets out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“You didn’t mean it?” Sarah’s tone is harsh and Robert feels vindicated for a moment. 

“I didn’t know anyone was in there,” he tries to explain frantically. “It was-it was for the insurance. It was stupid, I know, but the farm was failing and I wanted to help Dad and-“ 

Sarah backs up against the bar, using it to support her weight as she sags against it. It’s too much for her, Robert can see that, trying to process it all. Andy takes a step forward, still sobbing out apology after apology but Robert puts himself between them, a stern look on his face, hoping Andy gets the message. 

“I shouldn’t have come,” Andy sighs. “I’m so sorry. Please believe that.” 

He pulls free of Vic’s and Diane’s and Katie’s grasps and hurries out of the pub amongst the whispers of the punters. Before she runs after him, Katie shoots him a dagger filled glare that promises him death if he makes this worse. He only shrugs at her. Let Andy feel bad for what he did. He should. 

Turning back to his mum, he helps her up onto one of the bar stools and Chas who’s joined them, briefed on the situation by Diane, gets her a glass of water. She’s got her eyes closed again and he wonders if she’s reliving the fire. Abandoning some of his earlier restraint, he pulls her into a one armed embrace and she lays her head on his shoulder. He couldn’t save her back then, but he can be here for her now. 

—-

“Here you are,” Marlon says brightly, as he sets out their food in front of them. He doesn’t go though, just stands there with his hands on his hips, staring. “I just, wow,” he gasps. “Oh! You probably don’t remember me!”

“No,” she replies politely, but again, Robert can see the frustration simmering underneath. “I take it I should.”

“Marlon,” he introduces himself, “Marlon Dingle. We used to work together once! Like mother like daughter I guess, but well-“

“Marlon,” Robert cuts off his rambling before he sits down and recounts their whole history. There’ll be time for that later if she wants. 

“Oh, right, sorry. I’ll just let you get on,” the gangly chef apologizes and heads back to the kitchen. 

Sarah hangs her head as he goes, looking a bit defeated, a bit angry at herself. Over her head, Robert shares a worried look with Vic, both of them out of their depth with this. Fingertips pinch at her forehead again, like if she massages it enough, all of her memories will come back to her. He wishes that were the case. 

“I should remember,” Sarah chastises herself, staring blankly at her meal. Robert hates seeing her like this, empty. He wants to see the quick witted fire back in her he remembers from his youth. “And I should...I should go after...after-”

“Andy?” Vic provides the name for her with a gentle smile. “Katie’s with him. She’ll sort him.” 

“Katie,” she says the name to herself like she’s trying to hold onto it. 

“His wife,” Vic fills in the blank. “It just, it took him a long time to get over what he’d done. Seeing you, it’s just brought it all back up.” She pauses, eyes full of sympathy, letting Sarah process the information and Robert keeps his mouth shut, or tries to, managing to only let out a quiet grunt of derision for his brother. “It really was an accident though.” 

An accident that changed everything, Robert curses Andy to himself as he pushes his food around his plate. He’s not hungry even though it’s lunchtime now. He should just be enjoying having his mum back but instead he can’t stop his mind from working on overdrive. There’s others in the pub now too, gawking at them. Zak and Lisa are there and Paddy and they’ve got matching bewildered looks on their faces, mouths hanging open and closing so as to not draw attention. Robert sees them though, sees another familiar face wander into the bar as well. He’d forgotten about Aaron, about their barn meeting, his useless phone still smashed up back at Home Farm. Catching his eye, Aaron fixes him with an irritated glare and one of his frowns, this one saying ‘I don’t care about you’. Robert feels his heart sink at that but even as it does, he can feel shame prickling up his spine as he sits next to his mum. He tries to focus on her, on the conversation she’s having with Vic beside him. 

“-out of the barn?” he catches Vic saying. 

“I’ve tried so hard to piece it together over the years,” Sarah tells her, “but I’ve blocked so much out. I barely even remembered the fire beyond the feeling of burning before today.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Victoria cringe at the words and an apologetic expression wash over his mum’s face. But with his divided attention, he’s still watching Aaron at the bar, greeting Zak and Lisa, having an awkward exchange with Paddy who gives him some kind of envelope. A card. His birthday, Robert remembers suddenly, remembers all the plans he had for Aaron that morning. 

“Sorry love,” he hears Chas tell him, nodding in the direction of their table, “You’ve been a bit upstaged today,” 

Aaron shrugs and follows her gaze and they lock eyes again briefly but he doesn’t linger on him long before moving onto Sarah. “Who is that then?” 

“Sarah Sugden back from the dead apparently,” Chas says it so flippantly, barely scratching the surface on what a monumental moment this is for him. “I never knew her but it’s knocked Vic and Diane for six.” Robert doesn’t miss that she leaves him out. 

Aaron doesn’t ignore him though, eyes flitting back to his, widening in disbelief and Robert can only nod to confirm it’s real. For a moment, he’s caught, transfixed in Aaron’s gaze, lost in the concern for him he sees there, and then suddenly he’s back to spiraling, the what ifs assaulting his brain again. 

Beside him, Sarah notices a picture hanging on the wall. “Is that Jack?” he hears her ask. 

Vic’s on hand with an answer, “Yes! You remember Dad?” Her excitement pours out of her but it does nothing to penetrate the constant barrage of thoughts swimming around in his head. 

What if Andy had never lit that match? What if his mum had come home that night?

“Only bits and pieces,” Sarah tells Vic. 

He hears Vic’s sigh of disappointment humming underneath more questions.

What if his mum and dad had worked things out? What if she had moved back in? 

At the bar the Dingles are talking, Paddy stuttering through a story about Sarah to Chas, Chas mostly ignoring him and focusing on Aaron, asking him if he wants a birthday pint. 

What if they had become a proper family again? 

“-on the wall?” Sarah asks and he missed the first half. “Did he own this place?”

“Oh,” Vic goes quiet for a moment in time for another question as Aaron ignores Chas’s question about the pint to keep focusing on him. 

What if his mum had been there that that summer? When Tom had been helping on the farm? 

“He uh-” Vic pauses again and he can see her looking at him for help but he has none to offer. 

“It’s alright Victoria,” Sarah tells her, gives her hand a squeeze, her other hand still massaging her forehead. “I want to know as much as possible. Good or bad.” 

What if she had found him in his room-

“After,” Vic starts, “after you-well he married Diane.” He sees her point to the woman in question, serving another punter behind the bar. “She put his picture up after he...after he died. To honor his memory.” 

-when he kissed- Aaron’s name flashes in his mind before he corrects himself - Tom? 

“He was with her before,” he hears Sarah say. “Wasn’t he?” 

“I don’t-” Vic stops, unsure of herself. 

What if he had told her about Tom in the first place? That he liked him? What if- 

“Are you okay?” Vic asks.

It’s too much, he thinks. 

“It’s too much,” Sarah says his words out loud, making him swing his head back towards his mum, angry at himself for getting distracted. 

She’s got her head in her hands, her face gone pale and she’s shaking ever so slightly. 

“Mum!” he shouts over his own thoughts, his voice too loud. He startles her and she turns toward him looking rattled, panicked. 

“Mum,” Vic echoes him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, being a damn sight more useful than him at the moment. “Let’s get you to the back room. You can have a lie down.” She gets her up and looks toward the bar. “Diane?” 

“Of course, pet,” Diane tells her, moving Dingles out of the way so she can let them through easier. 

Robert abandons their lunches, trailing after them in a daze still himself. It was all too much, the thoughts swirling around in his head, all the pieces of memories flooding back into hers. Maybe the pub hadn’t been such a good idea but she’d wanted to come. She’d wanted more, he tells himself to assuage the guilt. On his way through, he brushes by Aaron, exchanging another glance, Aaron’s eyes full of worry, not for his mum but for him. Their arms brush, shoulder to fingertips and he can’t help but wish it lasted longer before he’s following Vic and his mum and Diane into the back, watching his little sister pull it together to settle Sarah down on the sofa. Diane’s getting her a glass of water and he’s just standing there like a spare part. He should be doing something, offering to call her doctor, something practical. That’s how he usually operates but all he can do is stare, thinking. 

After another moment, frozen, Aaron comes through, Chas on his heels, offering help if needed. Robert can’t help thinking that Aaron should be furious with him for missing their barn meeting, should be telling him he’s blown it, that he should pull his investment from their non existent business or something, but instead, he’s just standing there, wanting to help in any way he can. And Robert wants him to.

What if she had known that he liked-what if she’d been alright with it? 

“I need some air,” he says suddenly, the words barely a whisper. 

“Robert!” he hears Vic shout after him but he doesn’t stop, needs to get out of there for just a minute or two. 

---

He’s found himself a spot on the picnic benches, head resting in his hands, body shivering because like an idiot, he’d gone out without a coat on. It doesn’t matter though; he can’t go back in yet. Not until he clears his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He has her here now and he should be in there helping her. Chrissie should be with him but he’d left her behind and Aaron-

The bench dips underneath his thighs as extra weight is added to it, a pair of black jeans appearing next to his blue ones. Reluctantly, he looks up to find Aaron watching him. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and his gelled hair is being blown free from its hold by the wind, but his eyes are kind and Robert knows he doesn’t deserve them. 

“What was all that about then?” Aaron asks him. “They’re all worried.” 

“Doubtful,” Robert defaults. 

“Your mum is,” Aaron says softly and yeah, maybe just maybe that’s true. He’d forgotten what that was like. “Guess now I know why you stood me up.” 

There’s that frown that’s not a frown again and it both settles something in him and flips it on its head all over again. “I didn’t-I meant-” he’s stuttering like Paddy now. “I was coming and then Chrissie-she wanted me to meet the wedding planner.”

“Wedding planner?” 

“My mum was the wedding planner,” he explains. 

Aaron laughs, covers it quickly, but laughs all the same and yeah, if he wasn’t all twisted up inside, it probably would be funny. He can’t laugh though so instead he watches the little puffs of breath from Aaron’s laugh dance in the cold air in front of his lips before they disappear. 

“Wow,” Aaron sighs, shaking his head, before he turns more serious. “What ya doing out here then, eh? I know how much she means to you.” 

He does know, Robert thinks. He’s the only one that listened to him when he was upset about Lawrence ruining his speech at her memorial and they barely even knew each other then. Aaron’s always ready to listen, just like now. 

“I just-” Only he doesn’t know quite what to say. “Andy was here.”

“Oh?”

“You know what he did,” Robert says. “He told her. I didn’t think he’d have the balls but he told her.” 

“Shit,” Aaron assesses the gravity of the situation succinctly. 

“And all I could think was what if-” he stops himself. He can’t tell Aaron all of this. There has to be some shortened version, something he can say to make it all make sense. “I could be-if he-never mind.” 

Flustered, he pushes himself up from the table and stalks off, hands tucked into his armpits for warmth, getting further and further away from where he should be. His mum is here, she’s here and she’s struggling and he’s running around the village like an idiot because-he can’t finish that thought. 

---

Aaron finds him on the bridge, leaning over the railing, half wishing the river was deeper so he could just jump in and let it carry him away for a while. Quietly, gently, Aaron takes the place beside him, mirroring his pose, elbows up on the railing, a small gap between their bodies that Robert dares himself to close. He doesn’t and neither does Aaron. They just stand there in silence for a while, watching the cold water below. 

Eventually, Aaron speaks. “I use to play a game with myself,” he says softly. “What if my mum had never left me as a kid? What if she had taken me with her when she went? What if I’d grown up surrounded by my mad family instead of isolated with my dad?”

The word ‘isolated’ strikes him as odd but Aaron rarely talks this much so he listens. 

“Would my life have been different?” he continues. “Would it have been better? Would I have been better? Less of the screwed up mess that I am?”

“You’re not,” Robert can’t help himself but say. 

Aaron huffs. “Yeah well you don’t know me that well, but you’ve seen-” he pauses, curls in on himself a bit, “my scars.” 

Robert thinks back to that night in that - gay bar - what he’d said before he stormed out. He hadn’t regretted it enough then but he does now, seeing the way Aaron looks when he says the words. It was just, being in that place, it put him on edge. That wasn’t him, no matter what box Aaron wanted to put him in. That was one time Aaron wasn’t listening, not properly, not about Andy and the ring. He didn’t get it but maybe now-

“What if Andy hadn’t started that fire?” Robert says. “Maybe he didn’t kill her but I lost her all the same. What if I hadn’t? She always-she always understood me you know?” “Suppose someone had to,” Aaron quips, knocking shoulders with him to lighten the seriousness of the mood. He’s grateful, despite being teased. 

“My dad never did,” he admits. “Everything changed when I lost her. My relationship with Andy, Dad. I set out on this path trying to prove- what do you do when you feel like you could have been a whole different person with a whole different life if you’d just-”

“You accept the way things are,” Aaron tells him plainly. “I’ve got my mum back in my life now and we’re in a good place. You could have the same.” 

“I’ve missed her,” he blurts out. “So much.” 

“I know,” Aaron says, a hand patting his shoulder and pulling him towards him. “Come here.” 

A hug. They haven’t done this before and it shows, Aaron’s arms awkwardly wrapping around him, one over his shoulder and one under his arm. They don’t fit at first. Aaron’s on his toes and Robert’s just standing there, too stunned to make an effort. And then, warm, Aaron’s warm and his fingers are clutching at the back of his jumper, bunching up the fabric and tugging him in and finally, Robert allows himself to let go. He buries his face into the folds of Aaron’s worn purple hoodie, hands stretching across his back and meeting in the middle as they press closer to one another. They’ve seen each other without clothes but this is the most naked he’s ever felt with him. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. 

What if his mum had known back then he’d liked Tom? What if she’d known he’d liked boys as well as girls? What if she’d accepted him? What if this could be-no-no-Aaron told him to accept the way things are. He’s with Chrissie. He loves her. They’re getting married. His mum showed up as his wedding planner. She’s there at the pub, back in his life after all this time and he’s here, wasting his time on some fling, something that’s not even real. He can’t do this. 

“I can’t,” he sputters, pushing Aaron away. 

He tries to ignore it, but he can’t miss the hurt on Aaron’s face. It’s better this way though, to break it off now before either of them get in too deep. And yet-he lies to himself like he has before. He’s got Chrissie and that’s enough. It’s time to go. 

“Sorry,” he manages at least before he’s taking off across the bridge and back towards the Woolpack.

“Robert!” Aaron’s call follows him for a time but he just pushes onward, trying not to listen.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ A MIRACLE ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluffiness.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

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“Where you at, mi dulce?”

“I'm with Pop”.

“He okay?”

“Kinda like. He called me because he wasn't feeling good. Stomach ache. But, don' worry. I prepared him a good dinner. Why don' you come with EZ?”

“Yeah, okay. We're on our way”.

Hanging up the call, you frown at Felipe, who is not paying attention to your indications, setting the table with some grunts. Rolling your eyes, you walk towards him to take the cutlery off from his hands.

“Pop, sit down, please”.

“I wanna help, mija”.

“You help me sitting down”. Chuckling, you continue the task, hearing him complaining in murmurs. “Your boys are coming too”.

“Good”.

Coming back to the kitchen, you take a spoon of soap to taste the salt in it. It's perfect and the smell is simply delicious. You couldn't imagine almost a year ago that you would be the connection between the three Reyes, after what Angel told you about his family. With your eyes fixed on Marisol's urn, you can't help but pucker your lips with a soft smile on them. She would be proud. And you would have liked to meet her. Your boyfriend always says that she would have loved you, and you can't agree more. Sometimes you find yourself talking to her about her family, about what they have done through the day, or even about you. You understand Felipe. You understand why he does it. Sometimes it helps, feeling like if she actually was listening to you.

Bringing the saucepan to the table, placing it over a wooden board, taking off the cover to put it aside. Felipe leans forward, getting a whiff from it with both eyes closed. The pleased humm in his throat makes you know that he is delighted.

“Smells good, mija”.

“Tastes better, you'll see”. Palming his shoulder, you turn to the window next to the main door.

The characteristic sound, which you are used to living with, is increasing as the motorcycles drive through the neighborhood until parking in front of the house. Going to the entrance, you wait for them resting your body against the frame. Getting off from their bikes, EZ smirks at you when he's able to hug you tightly, upstairs. Pecking your cheek, he comes inside to greet his grumpy father. In the meantime that your boyfriend embraces you closer, resting his forehead over your chest, curving a little his back.

“Been all day without seeing you”. He mutters, raising his face to reach your lips.

A softly and slow kiss caresses them, taking his time to enjoy your warmth, wrapping him with both arms.

“You missed me?”

“A lot, mi angelito”. You say with a honeyed tone of voice. “C'mon. Dinner is gonna get cold”.

“Yeah”. He nods.

His heavy steps go straight to his father, placing a kiss on top of his head.

“What's up, Pop?” Angel asks sitting at the table, by his left.

“Jezz, it smells so good, (Y/N)”. EZ says, waiting for you to serve the soup. “What's in it?”

“Rice and chicken. A classic”. You reply very proudly.

When the dinner is finished and the younger Reyes has taken charge of cleaning the kitchen, you share some beers in the living room watching a movie. Ezekiel is now lying on the recliner next to Pop's couch, while your boyfriend and you are sharing the sofa behind them. You actually aren't paying attention to the TV. Facing each other, with a leg over his, your arms are tangled on his neck and his on your waist. You love that sofa because, even if it's a little small for you two, that let you be so, so close. Traveling one of your hands to his right cheekbone, you caress it with your fingertips before touring his dense beard covering the line of his jaw. Angel has his eyes closed, peacefully breathing, but awake. Just enjoying your displays of love. Almost one year, and you keep falling for him every day a little more.

Bowing slightly, you press his cheek with your lips, leaving soft and shorts kisses not wanting to disturb his calm. But you kiss every single inch of his face; his temple, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the tip of it, his chin. Until reaching his lips. At first, it's just an ephemeral taste. The beer on them gets mixed with your. He licks himself slowly, drawing a light smile on them waiting for another one. Touching his nose with yours, you kiss him again. His arms hold you a little closer, a little tightly, needing your proximity. You two look like two teens under EZ and Pop's eyes, who smile delighted looking at each other. And there's nothing sexual there. You could spend hours kissing him, just enjoying his tongue playing with yours and running out of air, to end up laughing. Your hand caresses his throat, while your lips continue dancing with his in a romantic and a measured improvisate choreography. You can feel his warm breathing, through his nose, colliding to your skin. With your leg around his waist, you push him so much closer until there's no distance between your chests.

You don't know how you have been living without him all your life. Angel either. Everybody says that you're like the light that illuminated his darkness, that he has changed since you met, to a small extent. Now he's more well-balanced. He thinks before acting. And he is mostly wearing a kind smile, good-humored. You know all his secrets, all his fears, all his insecurities; and for Angel is amazing how, knowing everything about him, you are still loving him without judging. Helping him to be his best version. Not only that, but helping him to have a close relationship with Felipe. That man is pig-headed to the limits, but he appreciates and loves you since the moment Angel introduces you. He is the first one who began to see the change in his son.

When your lips get separated in a clingy way, as if they were stuck, Angel is looking at you with a gaze full of love. Hiding his face on the gap of your neck, he takes a long deep breath of your scent, putting his lips there to kiss your skin so gently that gives you some nice chills. Your fingertips stroke his scalp, while he looks for some more calm.

“How I have been so lucky to find you?” You whisper into his ear, feeling his mouth curving in a fleeting smile. Just for a moment.

“I'm the lucky one, mi dulce”. He replies without hesitation, and a purr fixed in his throat. “Te amo”.

“Y yo a ti, mi angelito”.

Molding your body to his and resting your head over the cushion, you close your eyes. After a long day at the hospital, you are so tired that you don't care to fall asleep there. And it doesn't take you too much time, focused on Angel's breathing and his hands caressing your back. The only thing you feel after that, as if it was part of your dreams, is the brief weight of a blanket covering you two and a kiss on your forehead. Tightening your arms around your boyfriend by inertia, you continue immersed in your sleep.

Waking up bit by bit, hearing some noises inside the kitchen, you turn on the sofa. Angel isn't there anymore. Ezekiel and Felipe either. Getting up and stretching your back and arms, you walk barefoot following their voices.

“... and sometimes I find her talking to your mother”.

“How's tha'?” Angel whispers a little confused, having a sip from his mug.

“Yeah. When she's here, she talks to her. About you, about me, about your brother”. Felipe explains. “I really like her for you, mijo. She cares about you”.

“I know, Pop”.

“Good morning”.

Coming into the kitchen, after some seconds of silence, the three men turn at you to greet you.

“Buenos días, Marisol”. You mumble, slightly touching the urn, before continuing to kiss every man there.

Sitting on Angel's lap, you steal his coffee to drink it, hiding a delighted smile against the porcelain.

“You slept well?” He asks, placing a kiss on your shoulder. You just nod, putting an arm behind his neck. “Good… Plans fo' today?”

“Nothing, actually. Got a day off. Maybe I'll go to see Bishop. He told me that he needs some help with one of Vicki's girls”.

“Hm”.

“Feeling better, Pop?” Turning to the old man, he smirks at you. “Not lying to make me leave?”

“Not lying, mija. Your soup was like a miracle”.

“She is a miracle, papa”. Angel replies, rolling his eyes as if it wasn't obvious.

“And more like a trouble when she gets drunk”. Ezekiel laughs loudly, probably referring to the last Mayan party where you drank too much and maybe you lost control a little.

“Shut up, prospect”. Hitting his shoulder, you end up laughing too. “Anyway, call me if you feel sick again, okay? Got nothing important to do today”.

“I will keep it in mind, mija”.

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[thewhovianperson]

Welcome to part III of my "Putting companions with all the Doctors" series, where the legend that is Vicki Pallister will get her matchups. Do I finally have a good companion for 4? Lets find out!

1: With these rankings, I've usually put companions with the opposite part of their Doctor's era to the one that they're in, just for the sake of making it interesting. With Viki, she is so slap-bang in the middle of 1's era that it's hard to put her into either side. So on that note I'm going to say that she would do brilliantly with either. 1's grumpier but more paternalistic half is counterbalanced by her energy and insightfulness, which would lead to her being protected in dangerous moments, and them being a hero in order to help her in whatever shenanigans she has gotten into this time. 1's later half would be the best kind of chaos - they now want to help the universe, and Viki would be leading the charge.

2: Viki would love 2. Both are mischievous goblins who would absolutely cause chaos wherever they went. I'd watch this pairing. She might be a little annoyed at what they do to Jamie in Evil of The Daleks though.

3: I give Delgado!Master 3 days before Vicky turns them to the side of good.

4: Finally a chaos gremlin after their own hearts! Vicky would absolutely love 4, and their travels together would be brilliant. I'd love to see how she worked in some of Douglas Adam's scripts.

5: Young? Check. Gay? Obviously. In need of a found family? Yep! Vicky fits here.

6: No, Vicky is too sweet and doesn't need 6's bullshit.

7: The Doctor originally adopted Vicky as a Susan surrogate, so I think she would be safe with 7. If an alien so much as laid a finger on her, I think Seven would find a way to erase them from the timeline permanently. She would 100% take up The Spoons as a hobby.

8: Two gays, of which at least one is very trans, running around in space fighting evil and delving into adventures that seem to have strange metaphors for mental health. Vicky would be great here, but would need a weekly therapist appointment too (The TARDIS always makes sure she gets there each week).

War: Too much trauma, nope. (This is going to be a reoccurring theme I think)

9: She'd be very sad about all of 9's PTSD. She would also throw them into some fun, weird 60's adventures to make up for it and 9 would soon love travelling again.

10: The sad dad/vodka aunt and the impulsive companion. This duo could either end the universe or save it.

11: I feel like Vicky would either be fine here, or not. If fine, its because she's been scared by something and then 11 makes sure never to go anywhere near where the scary stuff is again. Alternatively, she's scared/hurt by something and Dark Eleven goes and commits *another* ✨Genocide✨. That would probably end in her wanting out.

12: She probably wouldn't vibe with grumpy S8 12, but would LOVE travelling with S9 12. However, I think that the 12 that would get the most out of travelling with Vicky would be series 10 12, as their teacher persona would really kick in here. So I'm going to say yes, this would be a good pairing.

13: Grandparent who remembers the social justice protests of the 60's goes on adventures with their gay af granddaughter. I'll let you guys decide who is who but either way this would be fun!

Ruth: Vicky's sense of adventure and predilection for getting into interesting scenarios would probably pair her well with Ruth. They'd have some interesting adventures, and I think Vicky could curb some of Ruth's more violent excesses.

[unwillingadventurer]

A fluffy Doctor Who fic. It's been a while since we wrote one!

...

Ian stirred as he tried to sleep, his bed on the TARDIS now his permanent bed and as he thrashed about in the covers, he eventually fell into much needed slumber to dream the night away. He was awoken in the morning from once such dream by something nibbling at his ear.

“Barbara?” he said, jokily, half-asleep and half-hoping.

His eyes sprung open, blurred and out of focus and there beside him, staring down at him was an old silvery cat with its tongue sticking out. “Hello? What are you doing in here?” Ian said, sitting up groggily and rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming. The cat let out a little purr as Ian stroked its head and neck. “No, you’re quite real. You are lost, aren’t you?”

Putting on his dressing gown quickly, Ian scooped the friendly cat into his arms and made his way to Barbara and Vicki’s room.

He tapped on the door. “Hello? Are you decent?”

“Come in,” came the reply.

When he entered, Barbara was already dressed, sitting on the bed, brushing her hair. Vicki in contrast was still in her bed, her cover half over her, her arm over her head as if she were a cat herself not wanting to be disturbed.

Barbara was about to ask what Ian wanted when she saw the cat in his arms. “Oh, I see you’ve met Vicki’s new pet.”

“You know about this thing?”

“It’s a she.”

At the sound of a sudden meow, Vicki’s eyes sprung open. “Hey, what are you doing with her?”

“She woke me up. How on earth did she get here on a time and spaceship, climb through the kitty door?”

Vicki laughed into her hand. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She snatched the cat away and began kissing its head.

“Well, if she doesn’t have a name,” Ian said, sitting beside Barbara, “how about we call her Barbara?”

Barbara and Vicki scrunched up their faces.

“I’d rather not,” Barbara said.

“You can’t name a cat Barbara!” Vicki moaned. “No one’s been called Barbara for five hundred years. That went out of fashion along with the black death.”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “Oh, I am sorry for being so unfashionable. And I think you and I need a little history lesson, young lady. For your information, I’m not quite as old as the black death.”

“Just as deadly though,” Ian said, waiting for Barbara to swat him but she ignored him as she was still directing her silent animosity at Vicki. “And what are popular names in your day? Codes?”

Vicki hugged the cat. “Don’t be silly. My name’s popular for one.”

“Well, yours is just after Victoria.”

“It’s a completely different name! No one’s called Victoria anymore, that’s like someone being called Frederick.”

Ian and Barbara exchanged glances. Ian decided not to reveal that his father was indeed named Frederick.

“What about Ian?” Barbara said.

“Oh no one would name their son Ian, not after the famous villain Sir Ian who tried to sell us as slaves to passing alien fleets.”

“My name’s been sullied, Barbara!”

“Happens to many of us,” Barbara added. “Anyway, what is your cat called then if she’s allowed to have a name at all in the enlightened future?”

“I’m calling her Doctor.”

Ian laughed. “That’s just what we need, another Doctor.”

“But she’s cute and grumpy and demanding.”

Barbara and Ian laughed together. “Doctor it is.”

“Where is our non-fluffy Doctor anyway?” Ian said. “You think he’s already up and about?”

“What’s he going to say about the cat?” Barbara asked.

“Well, she’s been here three weeks,” Vicki added with a chuckle. “Go away, Ian, I need to get dressed. Take Doctor if you like but don’t show the Doctor.”

…

When Ian arrived in the console room, he had no intention of hiding the cat and simply placed it on top of the time rotor as it rose and fell.

“Are we in flight, Doctor?”

The Doctor was busy staring at the console buttons with his monocle and simply waved his hand at Ian. “Quite so, my boy, quite so. We shall be materialising soon.”

“Talking of things materialising…”

There was a sudden meow from the rotor as it came back down to the Doctor’s height and the real Doctor finally saw the cat. “Goodness gracious, what is that?”

“It’s what’s commonly known as a cat, Doctor.”

“Yes, yes, I know that but why is it on my console?” He took a pause and touched his chin with his forefinger. “Ah, I see, the child.” He chuckled. “That little imp.”

It was then that Barbara arrived in the room and kissed the Doctor on the cheek before kissing the cat. “A kiss for the two doctors.”

“No kiss for Ian?” Ian tapped his cheek and waited.

Smiling, Barbara leaned in and kissed him quickly on the cheek too.

“Just a minute, just a minute, Barbara,” the Doctor said. “What was that you just said about two doctors?”

“Oh yes, well you’re the first doctor and the cat is the second doctor.”

“She named this flea-bitten old fluffy menace after me?”

Ian grinned and nudged Barbara. “I can’t think where she got the idea.”

Vicki strolled into the room at that moment and shrieked when she realised that Ian had just taken the cat right into the Doctor’s view instead of hiding her.

“Ian!”

“He was going to find out eventually, Vicki,” Barbara said.

“Child, what have I told you about animals in the TARDIS?”

“You let Ian in.”

Ian looked at Barbara. “You know once upon a time I used to want children.”

“Ian aside, we don’t need more than one,” the Doctor said.

“Why don’t you just open the doors now and throw me out?” Ian moaned, folding his arms.

The Doctor chuckled. “My dear Chesterton you’re far too valuable for that. Now child,” he said looking at Vicki and placing his arm around her. “So far you’ve bought rats, rabbits, a panda, birds, lizards and on one unfortunate occasion an elephant onto my ship. Isn’t it about time we scale back with the animal adoptions?”

Vicki sighed. “Oh alright. But what are we going to do with the Doctor?”

“Cat-apult her into space?” Ian laughed to himself. “Of course it could be cat-astrophic.”

The other three all turned away, shaking their heads at yet another Ian pun. “It’s a shame we can’t work the TARDIS,” Barbara said, “Ancient Egypt would be a fitting place.” She giggled.

The Doctor harumphed. “Ignoring your insinuations that I can’t pilot this craft; I think the safest course of action is simply to wait until we naturally land at a suitable place. If need be, she can go with you two when I drop you back to your time.”

Ian nudged Barbara and whispered. “Perhaps he’ll try harder now.”

“I think you might be right. Another Doctor has his respect.”

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 11

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 11

----------

The Akuma turned toward the three superheroes and scowled. A phantom butterfly appeared over her face. 

“So you’ve come to ruin my great day!?” She screamed. Her hand turned into bubbling energy and extended unnaturally, sailing at the heroes who had to scatter to avoid it. It smashed into the wall, burning it slightly. 

“This is Vicki Vale, reporting live from Wayne Manor, where the Charity Gala was interrupted by the attack of a supervillain. We can now see not one, but three new superheroes appearing on-site to stop them. The feline theme seems to be prevalent in this group, but it is the hero in red that took charge of the situation. Aaaah!” The large other arm sailed toward the reporter and her cameraman, enveloping them and burning them. Some of the bubbly mass remained there, slowly reforming into… something. 

“This Akuma is overpowered! Shapeshifting, reach, super-healing, and minions?” Ladybug whined. 

“Focus. We need the object.” Black Cat cut her off. 

“She had nothing on her. Only the… Of course, that stupid alley-cat would do this.” She moaned. “It’s her dress. That bastard made her dress into the akumatized object.” 

“Then we cut it to pieces.” Pink Tigress scowled. Her chakram sailed through the air at the Akuma, but it was easily avoided.

“You’re all just fake…” She didn’t get to finish before the sharp projectile bounced and returned at her, smashing into her back. Black Cat and Ladybug used the distraction.

“Lucky Charm!/Cataclysm!”

The destructive energy formed in his paw just as Ladybug got a fire extinguisher.

“Won’t be needed, beloved.” Black cat spoke too soon because purple energy surrounded the Akuma and the heat became harder to withstand. The wooden planks caught on fire.

“Is it just me or is she getting hotter with time?”

“Ladybug! Don’t flirt with the villain.” Tigress snapped, but the way she was smiling told the young couple she was just joking.

“Tt. Let’s just get moving.” He scoffed. Just then, the shapeless mass that was the reporter and the cameraman finally became active. The two blobs looked exactly like they used to before, except for violet eyes. They charged forward, forcing the heroes to scatter. As soon as they crashed with the wall, it started to slowly heat until it burned too. 

Ladybug started looking around. She needed to get access to the Akuma, but when they were distracted, it created more minions that now stood between her and them. The clock pointed at almost half an hour to midnight. 

The plan formed in Ladybug’s head. 

“Cat! I need your tail. Tigress! The strength would be nice.” She ran to grab the items needed. A tail was wrapped around the fire-extinguisher and the hand of the clock was put inside the pin and tied to the sash. 

“Power Up! Strength!” Pink Tigress shone with pink light. Getting at what her daughter planned, she grabbed Black Cat who rolled in a ball. 

“Tt. For the record, I hate these types of plans.”

“Less complaining, more… Now!” Ladybug shouted suddenly before making the fire extinguisher roll like a bowling ball right under the group of minions and toward the Akuma. The heat was visibly weakening the metal around it. When it was close to the enemy, she pulled back the sash with one swift move and plucked the safety pin. Then, she quickly tossed her yo-yo.

The weapon struck the already weakened metal container and everything nearby was covered by red foam, putting away the flames and momentarily stopping the heat.

Seeing her cue, Pink Tigress tossed Black Cat through the air. The strength gave her enough power for the throw to pass over all of the minions with enough velocity that he surprised the Akuma. His open palm clashed into the orange dress of the Akuma and it crumbled to pieces. Quickly, Ladybug grabbed the now-extinguished curtain and tossed it over the victim. 

There was no catchphrase when she activated her yo-yo and captured the purple butterfly, or when she released it. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” 

The swarm of magical bugs swept over the place, fixing the damage and returning everything to where it was supposed to be. At least most of it.

“Ladybug?” A voice came from under the curtain, which thankfully remained in place. The face that appeared from underneath was that of one Lila Rossi. “Oh no! It was… I was… Oh no!” She started crying crocodile tears. 

Ladybug was clearly unamused. Because of course, The Liar would be the first from the new batch of Akumas. Unceremoniously, she tossed her the dress and walked away. 

Outside, the press already gathered together with a group of police officers trying to stop anyone from rushing inside. 

“Miss.” A man in a brown trenchcoat and with a bushy mustache came over to the three heroes. “Commissioner Gordon, GCPD. I must ask you three to come with us.” 

“Tt. No.” Black Cat protested before either of the females with him got a chance. 

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder and made him step back. “Commissioner, could you send a team of paramedics inside. There is a girl that is probably in shock still inside. She was a victim of possession by Akuma.” 

Gordon didn’t respond verbally but waved his hand and a man and a woman went inside the mansion. “Now, can we move somewhere more private?” 

Just then, Batman glided down from the rooftop. “Nightwing and Red Hood stopped any car movement in and out. Red Robin is already tracing the feeds. The civilians are secure. Ladybug,” He turned to the spotted heroine with no small amount of respect, “is the situation inside resolved?” 

“I purified the Akuma if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Batman? You know those three?” The police commissioner asked.

“Yes. Ladybug is a superhero from France. She received my authorization to enter Gotham in pursuit of dangerous international terrorist Adrien Agreste, the son of another terrorist, Gabriel Agreste.” Batman explained. 

“And to think I used to wear his cologne…” Gordon muttered. “I would really appreciate the heads-up though.”

“We would definitely send such if we had time.” 

“We were in Tibet when the Akuma Alert came.” Black Cat lied swiftly. 

“Um… I’ve never been a master of geography but…”

“Magic. We use magic, Mr. Gordon.” Pink Tigress decided to take charge of the conversation with her assassin attitude in full force. From Bruce’s tales, James Gordon was a good man but sometimes too cynical. “The terrorist we chase also uses magic. We’re ready to co-operate with the police force as long as you turn out more cooperative than Parisians. We will need city-wide surveillance enhanced with the Akuma-detecting algorithm. You will get the program by tomorrow. Akuma Shelters would help minimize the strain during the attacks. And Arkham Asylum is to be on total lockdown. If possible, send the saner part to Black-gate. The rest is to be kept under wraps or in medically-induced comas. If even one of those madmen is corrupted…” She was narrowing her eyes to the point she almost closed them. Her fists were making a crunching sound as bones withstood great pressure. Pink Tigress was out for blood. 

“Agreste preys on emotions. Today’s attack was purely made out of spite and we suspect he didn’t even plan it. The girl he obsesses over announced her relationship to the public.” Ladybug stopped her mother before she said something she would regret. “We need to find him before he entrenches and it turns into a siege. We know who he is this time, but not who he works with…” 

“Known weaknesses? Ways to prevent possessions?” Gordon asked, scratching the back of his head. 

“We will send everything tomorrow. We need to go before the magic exhausts us.” Ladybug saluted before she and Black Cat leaped onto the top of the manor and disappeared in the forest behind it.

Pink Tigress smiled behind her mask and disappeared inside the Manor. Nobody saw her after that. 

---------

The couple arrived at the garden gazebo Damian showed her the first day and dropped the transformation. It was cold, but a small herbal fire burned inside and warmed them. Damian took off his jacket and put it over Marinette’s shoulders. She cuddled closer to him still, shaking not only from the temperature.

Silently, she cried for a good ten minutes before her eyes ran dry. 

“It will be okay, Habibti. This time, you’re not alone. And when we find him… He won’t walk out of there.” He muttered the last part low enough that shaken Marinetet didn’t hear him. She just wanted the comfort of his body heat and the embrace. She could hear his heartbeat and it served to calm her down. 

“I wanted this to be over. We were supposed to have peace… I can survive the occasional supervillain attack. But not… not him,” she sniffled. “Why…”

“Don’t worry angel. He won’t hurt you. Not today and not ever. By my sword I swear it to you.” 

“Damian… Thank you. You… We are in this together.” She smiled weakly. He pulled her closer. Simultaneously, their phones vibrated. 

Damian felt something shift and saw two steaming hot cups of hot chocolate in Ladybug-themed cups. From behind the fire, Tikki and Plag winked at the couple and hid again. 

“Happy new year Angel.” He gave her a cup and kissed her forehead. 

“Happy new year, grumpy cat.” She joked, hoping to light the atmosphere. Before Damian could protest she pulled him by his shirt into a searing kiss. 

Any protest he would have had over that nickname died before it could properly formulate. His mind shut down for a moment and he embraced his wife. They stayed like that for a long time. Just the two of them, the fire, and the steaming hot chocolate. 

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

Masterlist // Next

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

OMG, Jensen and Misha are having SO MUCH cybersex. Probably only slightly less than all of the cyber cuddling they're doing, too. I bet this is SO HARD on them 😢

They’re both sticky—from sweat and everything else. Jensen can see the low lamp light gleaming off Misha’s skin; and Misha can see the same in the glow from Jensen’s screen.

It has been months since they’ve actually been next to one another—the longest time they’ve been apart in over ten years. To say they hate it would be a grave understatement, but at very least, they have video-chat to make it all a little more bearable.

“Jesus—I’m disgusting” Jensen grumbles, reaching off to the side to grab a box of Kleenex.

Misha watches as the man cleans the splotches off his own stomach; and he smiles, knowing that Jensen could roll around in fresh manure and still be far too attractive for his own good. “Yup. You looking all sweaty and sexed-up is the worst.”

Jensen rolls his eyes but he still grins into the camera. “Well, you’re looking pretty bad yourself then … with your hair all long and that scruffy beard on your face.”

“What? Now you don’t like my beard?”

“Nope. I hated running my hands through it. I hated how it felt against my thighs. And I really hate it when you’re all scruffy like that and then you suck me off. It’s just awful.” Jensen’s grin has grown from ear to ear because the memory of the last time Misha’s lips were around him is already making his spent-dick twitch again.

“If that’s true, then why didn’t you let me shave it the last time were all together?” Misha knows the answer, but he loves Jensen’s post-orgasm ramblings too much not to egg him on.

“What can I say, I’m a masochist.”

“So—the next time I see you, I should just tie you down and torture you with my beard hair?”

Jensen bites his lip as he imagines it. “If you must.”

Misha chuckles softly. “When it comes to tying you down and having my way with you, it’s basically law.”

Jensen laughs a little too hard at that. “Since when do you care about following the law?”

After a pause, Misha sits up some more. Jensen has heard all his stories—the breaking-and-enterings, the petty theft, even the ones that he didn’t get caught doing, which is really lucky, because if he had, he’d probably still be in jail. “I have my moments.”

“Well …” Jensen sighs, feeling a sudden wave of tiredness wash over him, “I miss your moments, and I miss you.”

Misha’s eyes lax at the corners, feeling something wash over him as well—but it’s not exhaustion, only love and admiration for the man on the other side of the screen. “I miss you too. Very, very much.”

Jensen yawns and then scoots closer to his laptop so that he can prop his elbow on the desk and hold his head up with his hand. “But I miss you more. I should be falling asleep next to you right now.”

“I know. You’d be the little-spoon.”

Jensen nods, eyelids sagging a little—the new closeness to the image of Misha making him feel just a little bit better and a little more relaxed. “I like being your spoon.”

“I like spooning you … and forking you. And occasionally knifing you.”

Jensen scoffs as he fakes a grumpy-glare into the camera. “Okay, Cas. What has Dean done to piss you off this time?”

Misha snorts but soon, he’s leaning closer too, wishing he could feel Jensen’s warmth through the monitor, but there’s only the cool air of the room around him and the dim hum of his computer.  “He hasn’t kissed me yet.”

“Hmm” Jensen says in understanding. “Well, I will make sure to give him a good talkin’ to. Cas will get all the kisses the next time they see each other.”

Misha smiles, watching as Jensen’s body droops and his eyes start to flutter closed. “Good. I hope next-time is really really soon. Jensen nods slightly but he doesn’t respond, and Misha knows that it will only be a few more seconds before the man is asleep in his chair. “Jensen … Jensen …”

“Huh?” Jensen snorts, jolting awake a little. “Wha?”

Misha can’t help but laugh. “Go to bed now, or else you’ll wake up with keyboard-face.”

“Don’t care” Jensen grumbles after another moment. “I miss you too much.”

Misha sits back once more, wishing so badly that he could crawl through the screen and hold the man, it makes his stomach hurt. “I know … but I will still be here tomorrow. We can talk then.”

Jensen groans, but he eventually sits back too, stretching out his naked body into a long, beautiful line, and Misha can hear some of his friend’s bones crack through the speaker. “Oof” Jensen grumbles, finally relaxing before rubbing his neck.

“See?” Misha muses. “You’re too old to be up this late. Now, go to bed—before Danneel scolds me again for exhausting you.”

“Nah, she’s getting sick of me at this point. She probably welcomes the break from my snoring.”

“I know Vicki feels that way about me” Misha says, but he’s all too serious. Him being around the house so much is driving the poor woman mad. She never asked for a third child.

“Well, tell her she can send you my way if she needs to get rid of you” Jensen mumbles sleepily.

Misha looks the image of Jensen over once more—noting the bags under his eyes and the slack in his muscles. “Will do; but seriously, Jensen … go to bed. I will talk to you tomorrow.”

Jensen glances as the clock in the corner of the screen as it reads one AM. He is exhausted, and he knows that his kids won’t let him sleep in tomorrow since he promised them a game of soccer in the backyard … the idea of which seems almost painful to think about now. “Yeah … yeah, you’re right. I’ll go to bed.”

Misha smiles into the camera, happy that his friend is finally listening. “Good. I’ll call you later, okay?”

Jensen nods once more, but then stops, finally waking up just enough to really look at Misha through the screen. “Okay, but hey, Mish … do me a favor, will ya?”

Misha pauses, leaning a bit closer with the serious tone he hears in Jensen’s voice. “Of course. What do you need?”

Jensen takes a moment, taking in Misha’s face—his nose, his lips, his beautiful eyes that glow even brighter now that the guy is sitting so close to his monitor. He’s stunning, and Jensen can’t help but stare.

“Well …?” Misha prompts.

Jensen shakes his head a little as the gravel in Misha’s voice sends a small shiver up his spine and jolts him out of his trance. He smiles “Don’t shave your beard in the morning, okay?”

Misha smiles back, chuckling at the silliness of this man—this man that he’s been head over heels for for the better part of a decade. “Okay … I won’t shave it … for you.”

Jensen sighs, feeling extremely lucky that Misha would do anything just for him, even something as simple as not shaving a beard that he knows drives the guy crazy when it gets this long. “Thanks… I love you … a lot.”

Misha feels his chest tighten, and suddenly he’s finding it hard to fight back the burning tears welling up in his eyes. “I love you too, Jensen. More than you know.”

“Good” Jensen says, locking eyes with the brilliant blue ones that are halfway across the country but completely in his heart.

“Very good” Misha smiles. “The best.”

[rinusagitora]

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe, Vera Oberlin, Polly Geist, Amira Rashid, Kale

Pairings: BriDamiVicky, OzZoe, AmiVera

Words: 2.9k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 10/?. WARNINGS- PTSD symptoms, drug use, fanart drawn by @spookyhugsandkisses​;  Everyone is home, and is processing the events that have so far unfolded.

AO3

It was one of those nights Oz just wasn't able to focus. Even snuggled against Zoe and watching a goofy, uplifting anime, he couldn't ease the pit in his gut.

Zoe's thumb rubbed his brow. It was nice stimulation, at least. She was sweet in every way.

It was just a bad couple of days, Oz reasoned. He lived through millions. The birth of predator and prey, the fall of civilizations.

Zoe asked, "Do you remember your very first day?"

"Maybe long ago," he replied. "My first memory is in the dark, just beyond an orange light…. I think. There are so many now, it's hard to sort through them."

"Me too."

"What brings this up?" Oz asked.

"This, that, the other," she said. "I'm trying to remember a time before now that I've worked to keep people alive."

He frowned. "We're not very good at it.'

"No," Zoe agreed.

"We try to save people, but… they just end up dying. Or someone does."

She said, "They're all too eager to. Vera happily forked over her soul."

"And they adore destruction…. I hate demons for that reason. The Aquino, the LaVey, gungho for ruination and bloodshed before diplomacy."

"We wouldn't be here without it," Zoe said.

"Don't you tire of it?"

"I never said it didn't."

Oz hummed. His vision was blurry. Phobias kissed Zoe's hand, hugged her knee. He barely understood what Sergeant Frog was saying.

But that was the least of his worries.

"All of this now… what we're doing… is it helping, or is it retribution?"

"That depends on our intentions," she said. "Neutral good and lawful evil can approach a problem the same way and the only thing that puts them apart is their intentions."

Oz sat up. His Phobias whined for her skin like grumpy children. "Do we avenge Vicky?"

"Is she our friend?"

"... she's not innocent in all this."

"No, but that's irrelevant at this point."

He cocked an eyebrow. "How so?"

"We walk among mortals for so long and they rub off on us." Zoe cupped his cheek. Oz's eyes fluttered shut as she pet his cheekbone. "You more than I."

"Are you saying we mingle in these partisan affairs?"

"We already mingle, love," she said. "We've gone this far for them. I don't mind going further."

Oz's Phobias smiled with him. "I love you, Zoe."

---

Vicky felt like she hadn't been home in years.

It was stale, but just as she left it.

Vicky lingered in the doorway as her boyfriends made a beeline for the bedroom, Damien stripping to his boxers en route and littering his clothes on the floor.

She wasn't sure how she felt about being back. Vicky felt foreign, different, displaced. She stood in the entrance, shoes and jacket still on, and tried to piece it together with a puzzled furrow in her brow.

How many times had Vicky died? Once… twice… thrice? What counted as death and undeath?

Philosophy made her head fuzzy. She pushed off her shoes, not even caring to toss them into the shoe rack inches away, and made for the kitchenette in search of moldy dishes and rotten food. She'd need laundry done too.

"Babe, chores can wait."

Vicky didn't even bother to check if that was Brian or Damien. She said, "I want my place to be clean. Plus, I need clothes for class tomorrow."

"I thought we should skip," Damien said.

"Been through enough to warrant a break," Brian agreed.

She huffed. "I want to see my friends. Liam and Blobert don't know I'm back yet. It's not fair to keep them in the dark."

"Yes," Brian said, sitting on the floor with Vicky, "so we'll call them. Or meet them after school. But Vicky… you're still in fight or flight mode. We need to get out of that."

She laughed wryly. "What, like Hugh isn't at large?"

"There are three of us, and one of him. If he does invade your home, I think we got him," Damien snorted. Brian glared at him over his shoulder.

"Not helpful," he said.

"What? It's true."

Vicky sighed and continued to gather her outfit for tomorrow. She got together something presentable and went to her closet for the wire so she could hang them up in the bathroom. She shook Brian's hand off her pant leg but was caught by Damien a second later.

"Yeah, we're going to bed and sleeping in."

"No," Vicky argued. "I want to go to school."

"Baby, he's right. I'm so tired I'm gonna pass out when I hit the pillow," Damien said.

"Like you don't already?" Vicky snapped. "Dami, let me go. I have to get ready for school."

"We're going to bed," he said, firmly, golden eyes boring into her own.

Her nostrils flared irritably. Vicky adored her boyfriends but everything, the second the door closed, once she was relieved of the worries of her loved ones’ livelihood, she was imprisoned in a maelstrom of conflicted emotions. Fear, grief, rage. Shame that she was annoyed that Brian and Damien breathed over her shoulder. They just missed her. Vicky knew she would have behaved exactly like them if she watched either Brian or Damien die.

But sometimes, Vicky felt like her loved ones forgot she had a threshold. In less than a quarter of a century, Vicky was routinely sexually abused, experimented on by someone even more horrendous than herself as a bank robber, killed someone, and finally, she had died twice.

Vicky felt like she had every right to a night where she didn’t have birds chirping in her ear.

“Move,” Vicky said. “I’m just doing laundry.”

“No. We’re gonna relax tonight.” Damien's voice was rising, he was getting angry. Brian gawked at the scene unfolding from the corner of Vicky's eye.

“I want to go to school. I want to see my friends, and I don’t want to smell like stale laundry when I do!” she insisted, her voice quickly reaching a shrill crescendo in her frustration.

“What is your fucking problem, Vicky?” Damien barked.

“Nothing! I just don’t want to smell like stale laundry when I go to school.”

“It’s safe to say we’re not winning this fight,” Brian grumbled. He tried to grab Vicky’s laundry, and she pulled them away. He scowled and swiped again. “Babe, please give it to me.”

“No.”

“Am I seriously the only one here who’s exhausted?” Damien said, storming into the living room and tearing at his hair. “It hasn’t even been a fucking week since you died. We’ve been through a lot. We deserve some fucking sleep!”

Vicky whipped to him and screamed, “Like I fucking don’t? Like I fucking didn’t?” Her hair bristled with static. “You can’t fucking begin to comprehend the pain I’ve been through, asshole. I’ll cope however I fucking please.”

“I just watched you and my dad die! Don’t guilt-trip me.”

“Guys,” Brian said as stepped between them, “let’s not get into this. I’ll do the laundry. You two can go to bed.”

Vicky shoved past Brian. “Guilt trip?” she squawked. “You want a fucking guilt trip, Damien? I’ll show you a fucking guilt trip. You could’ve fucking saved me! You knew who took me, but you waited days to get me. Do you know how badly I was hurting? How isolated and confused I was?” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “You’re selfish and… and dictatorial! You got to grow up in a sweet little princely bubble where everything’s fucking rosy, but I was tortured, and killed, and raped, you son of a bitch, and when you guys had the opportunity to help, it you fucking days!”

Brian replied, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Vicky?”

Tearfully, she screamed, “Shut the fuck up, Brian!” She turned back to Damien. He was tearful. Irate. “What the fuck do you have to say for yourself?”

Damien bent over her and said, “I was in so much pain without you, Vicky. I wanted to get you every day. But if we stormed without a plan, they would have killed you.”

“They already killed me!” Every inch of her mortal skin felt hot from her anger. “All I want to do is something mundane to keep my mind of this bullshit, but you guys are breathing down my fucking neck. You don’t have to fucking help me, but I need some room to breathe.”

“You were just fucking murdered and had to fight for your fucking life just a couple of hours ago. Vicky, you can’t work yourself to the bone! I was worried about you and you jumped down my fucking throat!”

Brian pushed the pair apart. “We need to calm down before the cops get called,” he reasoned.

She slapped away Brian’s hand. “Don’t defend him,” she said, “you’re as insufferable as he is!”

“Vicky,” Brian said as he wrapped her fists around her’s, “we weren’t trying to breathe down your neck. We know you’re in pain, and we just wanted to help you feel okay.”

“I don’t get to be okay! I just get to be miserable and hurting!” Vicky slipped away and wept. She combed her fingers through her hair and blubbered noisily. “I’ve wanted so badly to just die so all my pain would end. I’m even in pain when I sleep. But when I die, there’s just more of it. I’m in Hell if I’m not on my way.” Her lip wobbled. “And I drag everyone down with me.”

“You’re not dragging us down,” Brian reassured her.

“Scott,” she argued. “He may as well be dead. He was just a good friend and now he’s a vegetable because of me.” While she cried, she sunk to the floor. “I have to live with all this pain. The second something good happens to me, it’s ruined. I was better off exploited.”

Vicky cried into the carpet. Brian and Damien laid down with her. She clung to them, she blubbered apologies for everything under the sun and cursed her suffering.

Damien stroked her hair, holding her so tightly her back popped. It was so hot between them. She wanted to writhe in pain, in misery, but they caged her. Made her remember her company and her family.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry."

Damien hushed her. "It's fine. It's okay."

"I love you all so much."

Brian pressed a kiss to her. Again, again, again, until she was short of breath.

She sat up. Damien laid his head on her lap.

"I'm thirsty," she said, raspy and tired. "I'm going to make tea."

Damien and Brian followed Vicky into the commons. Damien took a seat, and while Vicky prepared water in the kettle, Brian hugged her from behind. Kissed her scalp.

"I missed you," he said. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Vicky swayed. Her eyes watered again. She hated how much she cried. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything."

Brian hummed. His cheek laid in her head. "Water under the bridge, and all. Most of it isn't even you." She felt his frown. "Given the chance, I'd light your uncle on fire."

"Fuuuuck," Damien groaned. "If my dad and Hugo are fucking brothers, that means Dahlia is my fucking cousin."

Vicky frowned. "That may become… problematic," she said.

He scratched his ear. "I don't wanna worry about it now…"

"Mood," Brian agreed.

The kettle whistled. Vicky poured it over a tea bag and then took a seat between her boyfriends. They leaned against her, eyes glued to the television screen.

She sipped her tea. Brian and Damien drifted off. They were exhausted, truly. She didn't blame them. It was a long week.

But could she find a reprise? Never.

---

Something was exhausting about trading with eldritch creatures. Like her chest was scraped with a curette. Painkillers weren’t helping, and Vera was debating whether or not to undergo local anesthesia.

But she was so tired. With Vicky passing, Scott in a coma, and then Vicky returning, she was exhausted. That was the first day in years she hadn’t even checked her phone to work.

She missed Scott so much.

His machines beeped rhythmically. It should've been a peaceful sound. Like white noise. But the context almost put Vera in a fugue state. Catatonic with… with feelings she didn't quite understand.

Amira shook her shoulder. Morning light cast a shadow over the building. It was still dark in their room due to western exposure.

He said, "Baby, you look so… tired. Have you slept?"

"No. I don't think so, at least." Vera only then managed to pull her attention away from Scott. "I need to call in my absence."

"I took care of it," Amira said.

Vera hummed. Her chest still hurt.

"I want to stay here for the day," she told Amira. He nodded.

"Agreed." Amira pulled up a seat and crossed his legs. "He's got some color in his cheeks, though. The witches here are doing a damn good job."

"Nothing can fix everything." Not science, or magic, or what have you. But Amira squeezed her hand.

He said, "I know. But I'm optimistic."

"Aren't you always?" Vera looked back to Scott. He was intubated. Made to breathe. His heart was pumped by machines. Everything mechanical. Vera didn't have high hopes for his survival.

And it broke her heart. Scott could be obnoxious, but he was ultimately harmless! A victim in all this, the truest of them all.

Vera hated the Aquino family for victimizing someone whose inner light brightened the world like the sun. She'd be certain to rain terror on them from on high. To ruin them in every way she could.

Amira seemed to pick up on Vera's vitriol. He said, squeezing her hand again, "Do you want something to eat? Drink?"

"... just some water," she replied quietly.

Amira walked out. Polly floated in a second later.

Vera wasn't in the mood for conversation, but wasn't about to kick out a grieving friend, either. She wordlessly nodded to Polly. Polly smiled. She looked like she, too, was crying.

"I miss you," Polly croaked. "The hardest part of you being gone is that those of us left behind had so much to tell you, so much we wanted to experience with you, and now… now you're gone." She wiped her face. "I'd do anything to make you better, man."

Vera bowed her head, crying too. God, she missed him so much.

---

That morning, Vicky sent a text to Blobert and Liam to meet them. Of course, she was spammed with messages, but after proving it was her, and telling them she'd explain everything after school, they relented.

They waited in the parking lot hours later. Vicky smoked, and it reminded Brian that he could go for some weed. Everything was so uncertain. So tense. He needed something to ease his nerves.

The bell rang and students began to file out. Kale walked by, oblivious as he played what Brian was sure to be PokeMans.

He elbowed Damien. Both he and his girlfriend turned to him. "I'm gonna talk to Kale if that's cool."

"Go ahead." Vicky smiled a smile that made Brian swoon without fail.

Damien pecked Brian on the lips. "We'll hold down the fort, babe."

"Thanks."

Brian strode to catch up to Kale, before saying, "Hey, man! It's been a minute."

Kale turned around, bark crunching, and smiled. "Hey there. Glad to see you back." He pulled his headphones around his neck. "I heard Vicky's back too."

"Yeah. It's…"

"A long story?"

"You have no idea."

"As fun as the details prolly are, I'm sure you'd rather wind down."

"You read my mind." Brian pulled a baggie out of his coat pocket. "You got a minute?"

"Sure."

Brian and Kale found a secluded bench where the air smelled fresh and the only sounds were birds chirping. Traffic was completely absorbed by tall hedges.

They made their joints and then leaned back to enjoy them. It lingered in his lungs, making him buzz pleasantly. He could feel his stiff, rotten muscles easing.

"The fuck even happened?" Kale asked. Brian hummed dumbly. "With Vicky, I mean."

"Oh." Brian frowned as he ruminated. "She got into some trouble during a job. Some people didn't like it, and so they took her out." That was the simplest explanation, without the messy politics of Hell, and without a long story that was sure to just make Brian miserable.

"She's back now, at least."

"Equally as complicated," Brian told him.

"I bet." Kale took a puff. They sat in silence for a good minute. "It's fucked up, though. Are you sure you're cut out for this shit?"

Brian was a little hurt by that like Kale was suggesting it was somehow Vicky and Damien's vault she was murdered. It was a power grab. That's all.

But Kale was just trying to be a good friend, Brian reminded himself. He said, "Yeah. All this bullshit just reassured me how much I love them, y'know?"

"I'll take your word for it. I dunno much about that love bullshit, but if you're happy, man…" Kale trailed off and shrugged.

"Thanks."

Again, silence as they smoked. That was something he liked about Kale. How laid back he was. As fun as the insanity as Spooky High was, it was much nicer when insanity was a fraction of his day. Brian preferred sleeping like the dead or getting as close to it as possible.

Kale then asked, "What're you gonna do after all this?"

Brian pondered for only a second before he pictured Vicky and Damien in wedding garb from his home country.

"I want to get married."

[kissjane]

LONELY NIGHT / Short fic

#48 from this prompt list

I think the lovely 🐝 wanted something like this, and some other anonymous Davenzi shipper… Hope you’ll like it.

I called you at 2am because I need you

Trying to sleep alone is the absolute worst. It is bad enough to not be able to see his boyfriend during the day, but at least during the day, he can distract himself with other things. Right now, in the middle of the night, all David can think about is Matteo.

The past few weeks have been nothing but horrible. First David had spent a few days at his parents’ house, and when he got back, Matteo had been rushing to finish a big project for school. When that finally had been handed in, his mother had suffered a bit of a relapse and Matteo had gone to stay with her. He had gotten back to the flat share last Thursday, and David had been more than ready to finally spend some quality time together, but then Hans had decided a party was in order. As usual, it had lasted until early morning, and there hadn’t even been time for a shower together before they had to rush off to class. On Friday they had been invited to Amira and Mohammed, and by the time they had left there, the cold that had been threatening to break through for a few days had made David cough and sniffle, and he had sent Matteo home alone. He’d stayed mostly in bed all weekend, and then when he had finally felt better, it had been Monday again and the normal hustle that came with it had overtaken them once more.

And now they were back to Thursday, and David had snapped at everybody – at breakfast, he’d yelled at Laura for chewing too loud, and before class, he had told a few unsuspecting classmates off because they were giggling about one of David’s favourite movies. During his lunch break, he had scoffed at Carlos and Kiki sitting too close together, which had greatly confused Carlos because he and Matteo would have been even closer – but Matteo had been spending his lunch breaks in tutoring recently. He’d even thrown some sarcastic remark at Hanna when she had walked to the library with him, and when he had stopped by the flat share in the hope of catching Matteo before David had his therapy appointment, he had snarled at Mia and Vicky.

Matteo had sent David a text during the latter’s appointment, asking if he was okay, why he was so grumpy and curt with everybody recently, and if Matteo had done anything wrong.

And David had been ashamed at his behaviour, when he had read the texts after he left his therapists’ office, but by that time it had been over an hour since Matteo had sent them, and David hadn’t known how to explain that he was just frustrated.

His finger had hovered over his phone to call Matteo, but it had been late, and Matteo had seemed so tired when they had briefly talked over the phone that morning, in between classes. So he had just gone home with lead in his shoes.

And as he lays in his bed, tossing and turning, constantly frustrated by the lack of a warm snoring body, he remembers that tomorrow isn’t looking good either. Matteo has class until late and on top of that, he is supposed to get together with some classmates for a group assignment in the evening. It doesn’t look like they will have much time together, and Saturday they already agreed to go help out Jonas with a surprise he was preparing for Hanna’s birthday.

David sighs. He wonders why the whole world is conspiring against him. Is it that bad to want an hour alone, undisturbed, with his boyfriend? Hell, he’d settle for thirty minutes at this point.

He didn’t even know it was possible to miss somebody this much. And it feels like he is overreacting, too – it isn’t like he hasn’t seen Matteo at all, they’d hung out plenty. But it’s just – they haven’t been alone. And while Carlos is right, they are always touching somehow when they are together, it isn’t enough. David needs to be closer to Matteo, to feel the warmth of Matteo’s skin, to breathe the same air, to rest his head on Matteo’s chest and hear his steady heartbeat in his ear. And he also needs Matteo inside him, and Matteo’s tongue all over, and to taste Matteo, and to watch how Matteo closes his eyes and tenses his whole body when he comes. It isn’t wrong to want to have sex with your boyfriend, is it?

Long story short, David is horny, and frustrated, and he doesn’t care about being needy. It is unbearable. He grumbles out loud, trying to get comfortable, hugging Matteo’s pillow as some sort of ersatz Matteo.

Nothing helps. The blankets are too heavy, but without them, he is cold, and the bed is too big without Matteo. He grabs his phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding him, thinking he can watch something on YouTube until he falls asleep. But automatically, he goes to Instagram, checking out Matteo’s pictures, or his own with Matteo in them. And then he opens up their chat history, reading the silly messages of love they exchange all the time. His thumb almost caresses the screen, as if it is Matteo’s face. And then suddenly he notices that Matteo has been active recently.

Before he completely realizes what he is doing, he has pressed call. Matteo answers almost immediately.

“David? What are you doing awake? It’s almost 2 a.m.”

Just hearing Matteo’s voice makes all the stress and grumpiness disappear, and David laughs.

“I could ask the same,” he retorts, his voice teasing.

He can almost hear Matteo smile, and he curls up between the sheets, thinking about how Matteo is probably doing the same right now.

“Is everything okay?”, Matteo asks softly, after a few moments of companionable silence, and David’s cheeks flame up in shame again.

“Yeah…”

Matteo presses on.

“You can tell me, if I did something wrong… I mean, you seemed so grumpy earlier, and Mia said you came by and she thought you were angry… But I can’t figure out what I did, so just tell me, please…”

“Oh, Teo…” David sits straight up against the wall. “You did absolutely nothing wrong!”

“Are you sure? But you are upset about something, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s just because I’m so frustrated that we haven’t had any time together between the two of us. I miss you, that’s all.”

Matteo is silent, and David wonders if anything is wrong.

“Matteo?”

“Yeah,” the reply comes quickly, “I’m still here. I just… You really are so angry and snappy because you miss me? That’s all?”

God, David didn’t think it was possible to fall even more in love with Matteo, but he just did. He might just have melted at the softness in his boyfriends’ voice. But the fact that Matteo doesn’t get how much David needs him must be rectified, immediately.

“That’s all? It’s just about everything! You are everything. So when I can’t have you, of course I’m gonna get snappy. I need my Matteo fix. I needed my Matteo fix two weeks ago, in fact. A day without alone time with you is… not a good day, no matter what else is going on.”

Matteo laughs softly.

“Really? I didn’t know. I thought I was the clingy one…”

“Hey!”, David retorts. “I’m not clingy. I just know a good thing when I see it, and I don’t plan on letting go. You’re stuck with me.”

“Just the way I want it.”

They both laugh, and then the line goes silent for a few minutes, only the sound of their breaths coming through.

“I miss you too, you know…”, Matteo then speaks, softly, a bit hesitatingly. “If you want –”

He cuts himself off, and David knows Matteo doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to pressure, doesn’t want to offend – so he just takes the proverbial bull at the horns.

“Can I come over?”

He hears the sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line, and then Matteo’s beautiful laugh.

“Hurry up.”

David is already out of his bed, pulling on some pants and a hoodie over his sleeping shirt, not bothering to find socks.

“Be there in ten.”

“Good,” Matteo says. David can hear the excitement in his voice. “Use your key.”

David smirks.

“Why?”, he asks, as he tiptoes through the flat, opening the front door, rushing down the stairs.

“Can’t open the door naked…”

David unlocks his bike in record speed and starts pedalling as fast as he can.

“Be there in five,” he pants, hearing Matteo’s delighted laugh right before he ends the call. The image of a naked Matteo waiting for him is incentive enough.

He makes it in four.