#question - if their ro lost control and it looked like they were gonna bite your detective would your detective let them or

[kdelarenta]

"what are you thinking about?" NOTHING AT ALL, TOTALLY NOT THINKING ABOUT UB LOSING CONTROL AND CROWDING THE DETECTIVE TO BITE THEM ONLY FOR THE DETECTIVE TO PULL OUT A WEAPON AND THEY BOTH JUST STAND THERE IN UNBEARABLE TENSION WAITING FOR ONE OF THEM TO HURT THE OTHER.

[always-anxious612]

Magic in the Air: Chapter 5

Description: Patton offers to help. That’s all he’s really ever wanted to do. Help his friends. But will that eventually lead to a mess that he wasn’t prepared for?

Pairings: roceit, analogical, intruality, platonic DRLAMP

Warnings: food mention, blood mention, slightly gorey image mention  (please let me know if I missed anything or if you want something tagged)

Word Count: 1,746

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9

“Watch out!”

The yell came from the living room and at the sound, Patton instinctively ducked (quack), biting his lip as a book slammed into the kitchen wall behind him. He had been doing a lot of that recently…ducking that is. With Roman, Virgil, and Dee all working on their magic over the past few weeks, the household had become a bit of a chaotic mess.

“Sorry, Padre.” Roman apologized coming into the kitchen to grab the book. “You ok?”

“Perfectly dandy, Ro.” Patton grinned, standing up and patting Roman on the back. Roman returned the smile and hurried back to the living room when Logan called his name.

“Hello, Patton.” A smooth voice greeted from the front doorway. Dee made his way into the kitchen to stand next to Patton and sighed gazing int the living room. “How is our favorite prince doing today?”

After Roman had gained a little more confidence, he had started having his lessons separate from Dee once again in order to make the best of all of their schedules. Needless to say, their schedules had become a bit hectic ever since everybody started gaining magic all of a sudden. Even Remus and Patton were swamped with trying to help Logan in his experiments, keep up with their own class schedules and being there for the three struggling with controlling their magic.

“I think he’s doing great. Only one book flew in here today, so that’s a bonus!” Patton cheered, smiling at Dee.

“Oh?” Dee purred letting a soft grin inch its way onto his face. “How marvelous.” Patton nodded in agreement, looking toward the living room where Roman had six things hovering in the air.

“That’s the most he’s gotten to, right?” Patton asked as Roman started moving the things in a circle in the air. It looked like he was juggling without actually touching anything. He’d been working really hard to get that part right. Since he had had his magic a bit longer than the others and now knew a bit more about his limits thanks to…what had happened, he had really mastered just floating the objects and had moved on to rotating them, moving them, and adding more objects. It was amazing to see him improving rather fast, even if he sometimes still lost control of an object or two. After he had set the objects down, he glanced into the kitchen and spotted Dee. With a quick word to Logan, he ran over and jumped at his boyfriend. Dee let out a little oomph as he caught Roman and supported his weight while the actor wrapped his legs around Dee’s waist.

“Did you see, Dee?” He gasped, like an excited child. “I got six objects up this time.”

“I saw, my prince. You did amazing!” Dee encouraged, pecking Roman on the nose.

“I’d say you’re actually improving quite quickly Roman.” Logan chimed in from where he’d come to stand at the doorway of the kitchen. Roman smiled gratefully at him as he finally released Dee.

“Thanks, Lo.”

“I’m only speaking the truth.” Logan replied, smirking softly as Roman blushed at the compliment. As Logan opened his mouth to continue, a heavy thumping on the staircase drew all of their attention.

“Logan, we’re gonna be late for class! You said you’d come get me ten minutes before we had to leave.” Virgil panicked as he rushed suddenly downstairs and headed toward the door. Surprised, Logan checked his watch and cursed under his breath.

“Great job today Roman. Don’t forget that you and Dee have tomorrow off because I have to help Virgil make one of the backgrounds for the play.” Logan reminded as he grabbed his bag and quickly followed Virgil to the door. Patton smiled after them, giggling at how obvious it was that they were dating. They hadn’t outright said it yet, but it wasn’t hard to tell. He knew that Dee knew as well from the knowing looks he kept giving the two. It was great that they got to work in at least one of the same classes together. With Logan being in Theater Design and Technology and Virgil being in Stagecraft, they often worked together on projects for the school’s major productions too. In fact, all of the others were also pursuing careers in theatre: Dee in costume designing, Remus in stage makeup, and Roman in acting. However, Patton himself was majoring in Dance. Sometimes he was a bit sad that he was the only one that never got to help in the production of the plays, but he at least got to help Roman when he was auditioning for a musical and needed help with the dances. Plus, Remus often helped him practice his partnered dances since he had always been interested in the subject. Speaking of Remus…  

“Has anyone seen Remus? I have something he needs for his makeup class.” Patton remembered.

“I think he was in his room last I saw him.” Roman answered as he began to get the ingredients to make himself a sandwich.

“Would you like a sandwich Pat?” he offered, looking up.

“Aw, thanks kiddo! That’d be great! Could you make one for Remus too? I don’t think he’s come out of his room all day, so he probably hasn’t eaten.”

“Sure, but I am not adding sardines to his ham sandwich this time. He wants those he can get them himself.”

Patton giggled softly before heading upstairs to get the makeup brushes he had for Remus. He had borrowed them to do his makeup for a costumed dance routine he had to do for class last week and kept forgetting to give them back, but Remus could only last so long making up excuses for why he didn’t have his makeup brushes in a makeup class. He was getting ready to knock on Remus’s door when he heard angry muttering from the other side. Slightly worried, he hesitantly knocked on the door anyway.

“Remus? Kiddo? Roman made some sandwiches for lunch if you want to come and eat” he called. The muttering fell silent but there was no answer.

“Um, Are you ok?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“’M fine.” Remus responded, sounding unconvincing. His answer was much quieter than usual and there was a slight waver to his voice.

“I’m coming in, ok?”

When there was no answer, Patton took that as an ok and cautiously opened the door.

Remus was slumped over at his desk, his head resting on a piece of artwork of a girl with half of her face completely covered in tiny cracks that branched out and bled into the rest of her face and down into her neck…like a china doll that had been dropped and shattered, just on the verge of breaking completely. It was haunting but still beautiful, and though it wasn’t Patton’s type of art, he could still admire the talent and work that went into it.

“That’s beautiful, Remus.” He complimented, still gazing at how intricate the cracks were drawn. Remus snapped his head up and stared at Patton then looked back to his drawing.

“You think?” he asked, chewing his lip as he studied the picture.

“Yeah, of course! The cracks in the face are so intricate and you did her hair so nicely and the way the fractures kinda start to bleed into the rest of her face but fade off. It’s really great. You did amazing.”

“It was gonna be my project for my makeup class. I was gonna add some blood seeping from the cracks and not paint her face so it’d look like an actual fractured human face instead of just a cracked doll and everything! I mean, a cracked china doll is so overdone, right? This way, it’ll look much cooler and probably be a lot creepier. And a bit more gory, with the blood and flesh and stuff.” Remus ranted, smiling at the thought. Patton tried not to grimace at the concept. It really was very cool…just not his type of thing.

“What changed? Did you find a better project to do?” Patton asked noticing that Remus’s smile faded at the question.

“My professor said that it wasn’t possible for someone with my skillset to get it perfected in time and recommended I pick an easier design.”

“What? But that doesn’t make any sense. You’re not going to learn new skills if you don’t challenge yourself. I mean you are in the class to improve your skillset.”  

Remus was silent for a minute before speaking again.

“So…you don’t think I have the skillset either?” he asked quietly.

“Wh—No, Remus. That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I actually think this is right up your alley. I’m sure you’d do amazing. I’m just saying even if that’s what he believes, he should still let you do the project. So what if its challenging? You’re there to learn aren’t you? And if you want to push yourself so you can grow, I think he should encourage that not turn you away from it.” Patton pointed out. Remus smiled, but it still seemed too sad for Patton’s taste.

“What if you did it anyway?” he suggested. Remus’s grin suddenly turned mischievous as he raised an eyebrow.

“Patton are you suggesting that I disobey authority? I never thought I’d see the day.” He gasped dramatically. Patton flushed bright red as he slapped Remus’s shoulder playfully.

“I-I just think that if you do it and perfect it anyway, then you can prove it to him that he was wrong.” Patton defended “But this isn’t worth a lot of your grade or anything right? Because it might be best if you don’t test your professor when you can fail the whole class because of it.”

“No, of course not. It’s just a little project.” Remus replied, waving it off and looking away. Patton raised an eyebrow at his suspicious reaction but shrugged it off as Remus continued.

“I need a subject to practice it on though. None of my classmates like to be my subject anymore.” He pouted.

“Well, I could be your subject if you like.” Patton offered.

“You—You will? But this—I mean, this isn’t usually your thing.”

“It’s not but it still looks really cool, and you always help me with my dance routines. It’s the least I could do.”

“Ok, then. Thanks Patty Cakes!” Remus grinned. Patton nodded, hiding a blush.

“Anytime. Now let’s go get those sandwiches.”

Taglist: @catolicabuena @look-ma-im-on-tv @its-always-the-witching-hour @sure-i-exist @wellhellothere09 @star-crossed-shipper @cemmy 

[peterthepark]

crush culture - [four]

party tattoos

pairing: steve harrington x reader (university & modern!AU)

summary: gold dresses, unspoken kisses, and impulsive decision making are always good starts to the new year.

warnings: strong language, uses of social media & alcohol, pure utter fluff fluff fluff, kissing, mentions of tattoos, bad dancing?

a/n: inspired by party tattoos by dodie :) sorry it’s taken me so long to update. this chapter isn’t long, considering i haven’t been active for some time. but the next chapter makes up for it! thanks for ur patience everyone!

Shelves line up Steve’s peripherals as he pushes the shopping cart. The rolling wheels squeak loudly beneath him while you hum and coo at the quirky party decorations that embellished the aisles. Having never hosted a celebration at your own place before, you had decided to entrust in Steve and his experience with parties to help you out.

Robin and Kate wanted a golden theme for the party, both of them being shockingly specific about the type of decorations you should buy, while they prepare the food and drinks. And now here you are, sitting cross-legged in a shopping cart as Steve hand a pack of gold solo cups to you. You pile it into the rest of the decor: paper plates, those little flag thingies you hang up on walls, white and black balloons, and of course, sparklers that would certainly be Instagram-worthy.

“How ‘bout these, Y/N?” Steve snickers, placing an oversized frame of glasses on his face. With a lopsided grin, he does a playful spin for you. You flick the glasses off his nose, laughing at him as he feigns a look of offense. “Hey! Chill!”

“We’re supposed to be shopping, not messing around, you idiot.” You scoff at him, quirking a brow as he puts the glasses back on the shelf. His hand subconsciously moves to rest on top of yours on the bar of the car; the gesture comes to you easily, and you don’t seem to mind the way his thumb runs over your knuckles.

“Okay, so what’s next on the list?”

-

The kiss hadn’t been brought up.

Not even once.

And you honestly think that maybe you must’ve dreamt it, seeing as Steve seemed to act like it hadn’t happened it.

The morning after said incident, you awoke to an empty bed and the familiar smell of freshly-brewed coffee. Steve was in the kitchen, speaking to Jonathan in a hushed voice. You didn’t care to eavesdrop, knowing that the conversation seemed to be none of your business. But Steve began acting differently towards you after that. He seemed more open, more comfortable, and happier around you. Yet, no one had the guts to bring up the late-night kiss.

“Steve, is this straight? Does this look straight to you?” You whine, glancing down at him with a frustration expression. The chair wobbles as you lean further to tape the hanging decorations to the wall, and Steve is quick to keep the chair still, not wanting you to fall and hurt yourself. “Does it look okay?”

“Y/N, it looks fine, but you’ve gotta be careful. You’re literally gonna fall.” He says in exasperation, gripping your hand to help you down.

“I just want this to look good. I’ve got King Steve here himself, I’m sure he knows what a good party looks like.” You tease, biting your lip.

Steve cringes at the thought of you knowing about his whole King Steve phase, and he ruffles his hair sheepishly at the smirk on your face. “Okay, who told you about that? Was it Jonathan? Like I know I was a complete dick back then, but man-“

“No, silly. Robin told me. I didn’t know you were such a playboy.” You walk past him, chuckling as he follows after you into the living room. “So, are you gonna tell me all about your whole high school experience or what?” You purr, arranging the fairy lights for the DIY photo booth that you made together.

Steve huffs, hesitant to even tell you about the person he was in high school. “I was such a dumbass back then. You don’t even want to know, Y/N.” He groans, kicking his feet atop of the coffee table.

“You’re also a dumbass now. We were all shitty people in high school, trust me.”

“Oh, really? Do tell.” He probes, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I fucked my chemistry teacher.” You reply nonchalantly, earning a sputtering cough and a loud exclamation of really?! from Steve. “I’m kidding! It’s a joke! I did get into a lot of rumor and drama shit, so I guess my high school life wasn’t as perfect as I try to make it out to be.”

Steve lets out a breath of relief. It’s not that there was anything wrong with you possibly screwing your chemistry teacher, it’s just... he honestly wouldn’t expect it from a sweetheart like you. Then again, sweethearts sometimes have hidden agendas.

He starts to look at the way your jeans hug your thighs and then his eyes skim over the expanse of your hips...

Fuck, dude. Not cool.

“Steve? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh?” You laugh at him, rolling your eyes at his dumbfounded stare. He shifts awkwardly on the sofa, and he’s praying that you didn’t see the way he was totally ogling you. Which you did.

He’d be in a treat for later then, because the dress you were planning on wearing was definitely far from anything he’s seen on you wear.

“I said, you should go rest before the party. It doesn’t start till like nine, and it’s only five right now. Maybe you’d want to take a nap or - or get ready or something - I don’t know.” You ramble shyly, setting out a couple bottles of champagne and wine. You look over to him, nearly knocking over the bottles when he licks his lips. Instinctively, he catches the bottle before it rolls onto the ground, blushing alongside you as your hands come in contact with each other.

“You tryin’ to get rid of me already, Y/N?” He smiles, pulling his hand away.

“I’m tryin’ to give you a break before we get blind drunk at this party. Take it or leave it, Harrington.” You nudge his shoulder, sharing a lingering gaze with him before you actually make him go home. “O-okay, for real though, go.”

“Alright! Alright!” He raises his hands up, hesitantly making his way towards the door. “Do I have to?” He turns, before you seriously shoo him away. “Okay, bye. I’ll see you later... Y/N.”

He winks teasingly, then he’s out of your apartment.

You sigh dreamily.

You love it when he says your name.

-

“It’s just tequila. Y/N, please, c’mon, do it with me!” Robin cackles, shaking your shoulders. The walls of your apartment rumbled as the speakers played music, blasting out throwbacks and current songs alike. Robin had dragged you to the island in the kitchen, expertly lining up half-filled shotglasses on the counter. She bounces on her toes, clasping her hands together as she begs you to take shots with her. “Please! Just this once!”

“Dude, the last time I drank tequila, I lost all control. Do you not remember how wild we got? I’m not putting myself through that again. I swear - Ro, there’s no way-“

Interrupted, Robin bursts into a gasp, spotting a familiar face from the front door. “Steve! Steve!”

She runs out to pull the chestnut-haired boy into the kitchen, holding him by the shoulders as she drags him towards you. His jaw drops slightly when he sees the gold dress hugging your body, and you don’t hesitate to greet him with a grin.

“If Steve takes a tequila shot, will you do it?”

Steve’s face breaks into a smile at Robin’s question, and he gestures at the shotglasses with raised brows. “I can’t say no to that offer. Y/N?”

You take a moment to stare at Steve, recognizing the mischievous glint in his eyes that ultimately causes you to give in.

“Ugh, okay. Yeah. Fine. Tequila.” You wave your hands about, pacing in your heels before you courageously down a shot with Steve. You both groan at the taste, screwing your eyes shut as it burns at your throat and tongue. “Bleh! Ugh, I already feel drunk.”

“Just two more shots.” Steve insists, placing his hand on your arm. He dips his head down to look at you.

“You know what? Who’s to say we were done anyways?” You smirk at him, before you hold out a shot glass for him to drink out of. You unknowingly part your lips as he grips onto your wrist to down the drink, gently pulling your arm away when he’s finished. He wipes his mouth, hissing at the spicy kick.

Parties were boring. Unless you’re blind drunk.

And in this case, parties were fun.

Because well, you’re blind drunk.

The flash of the camera goes off as Kate pulls you into her chest, squishing your cheeks together while Robin comes up behind to sandwich you between them. Classmates and mutual friends alike pile into your shared apartment, easily making conversation or dancing to the music in the living room. The sway of your hips is enough to show the liquid courage that was running through your body as you made your way over to Steve, holding onto his hand to pull him into the makeshift photo booth.

“What are you doing?” He drawls out, raising his eyebrows at you as you stand next to him in front of the backdrop. “Y/N, I look like a mess-“

“You’re hot, Steve. You need to chill out.” You slur, slinging your arm around him as Kate starts taking pictures.

And in the meantime, Steve knows how idiotic he looks in those pictures - mouth open, eyes wide and lips pulling into a smirk as he realizes that you just called him hot. He tries to ignore the way that your face feels against his face as you embrace him tightly and hold up a peace sign.

“Y/N?” Steve asks over the music, nearly shouting. “You look beautiful!”

Your gold dress glimmers under the disco ball that hangs from the ceiling fan, and you forget everything else around you as Steve’s eyes slowly drift down the length of your legs and heels.

“Thanks, Steve.” You reply, blinking up at him hazily. He hesitates for a moment, stepping closer towards you, before Robin quickly whisks you away towards another area of the apartment.

You glance behind you, meeting Steve’s eyes in the growing crowd of people. He raises a glass of beer at you, before he completely disappears in the sea of the party.

“No way. Absolutely no.” Kate groans, clasping her hand over her mouth as her gaze follows yours. “You brought a tattoo artist to the party?”

“More like I paid her to come.” Robin whispers, scratching guiltily at her head. “What? She’s hot! I just - I don’t know she seemed really nice and really sweet and yeah, cute. C’mon, K.” You shake your head at Robin with a smile, taking her hand in yours before giving it a squeeze. “You said you’ve always wanted a tattoo, Y/N?”

“I mean... yes, but... I’m also very drunk right now.” You laugh, rubbing your arms. Robin’s black lipstick tugs up at the corners, and she raises her brows at you with suggestion. “What would I even get?”

The buzzing needle pricks against your skin painfully. You hiss as Gemma puts pressure on your wrist, black ink forming words as she goes on. You shut your eyes, already regretting your decision as you tune out her comforting coos. Kate records you on Snapchat, while Robin laughs drunkenly in the background and praises Gemma for her work.

When she’s finished, you examine the plastic wrap around your wrist, fingertips hovering over the black words as you gasp in awe at it. Kate and Robin gush over it, and you start to become aware of the permanent decision you had just made.

Always indecisive.

Always impulsive.

But never unsure about your feelings for people.

Especially Steve.

After taking a few more drinks to numb the dull pain on your arm, you moved towards the balcony. You step out onto the glass-fenced terrace, shutting the sliding door behind you. Steve turns to glance at you, smile turning into an amazed laugh as you show him the state of your newly-tatted wrist.

“Oh, my god. You did not.” He huffs with unbelief, holding onto your hand as he looks it over. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only insane when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, shifting from one foot to the other before you put your arms on top of the fence. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“No. No, definitely not.” He answers quickly, waving you off.

“Ooo, I don’t know, Steve. Sounds a little bit like a lie to me.” You push his elbow with yours, burying your nose against your shoulder as you look up at him coyly.

“Okay, maybe I do. But I’m not proud of it. It’s a terrible tattoo, I got it when I was in high school and it’s - it’s stupid.”

“Oh, now you’ve got to show me!” You gasp, pulling on the sleeve of his top as he groans at you. You beg him, promising not to make fun of him in any way shape or form - no matter how stupid the tattoo could’ve been.

So, he preps you a little bit. You mainly think he’s stalling but he claims that he’s just preparing you for the worst. He’s trying to explain himself, yet honestly, you can only hone in on the way he gives you a blushing smile, all while using hand gestures to make light of his point. Fed up, you interrupt him, telling him you don’t quite need an explanation to whatever his damn tattoo even is.

He sighs at you, slumping over jokingly before he decides to untuck his top and tug down the waitband of his jeans to reveal the ink on his hipbone. The tattoo isn’t as bad as you had thought it would be. Steve was simply just overreacting, and maybe self-conscious at the fact that you’d be seeing such a tattoo on him.

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be, Steve.” You smirk, leaning over to look at the tattoo on his hipbone.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.”

“I’m serious! It’s pretty cute.”

The black-inked heart with an arrow through it sits prettily on his fair, flushed skin. It was far from embarrassing, and it was far from a horrible design. You weren’t lying when you said it was cute. It seemed actually... endearing, to have a gentleman like Steve have such a soft-meaningful tattoo in a place where no one could really see it.

“Does it mean anything?” You tilt your head at him, chewing on your lip as he thinks over your question.

“I dunno. Guess I’ve... I don’t know, I guess I’ve always been a - a hopeless romantic? Do those even exist?” He asks aloud, running his clammy palms over his denim-clad thighs. He shrugs, “I’ve always - I’ve always been a little too crazy for love, so whatever, so... it’s a - a fitting tattoo for me, I suppose.” He stares off into the city line, eyes twinkling when he shifts his attention to you. “And what about yours? Any meaning?”

“It’s... it’s open to a lot of things.” You nod.

The words SEE YOU SOON are red with soreness on your skin, healing under the plastic wrap as you carefully let Steve trace over it with his thumb. You can feel his breath against your collarbone as he mindlessly bumps his arm against yours.

“See you soon?”

“I like to think that... people who are - who are meant to be in your life - but leave for whatever reason - are always meant to find a way back to you. It’s just... a lot of people come and go. Especially now. It’d be nice to find a person who’ll stay one day.”

“Deep.” He mumbles, earning a laugh from you. You don’t fail to realize that his hand has slipped into yours, and he holds it over the railing as the chilly Chicago air bites at your skin. “I hope that you’ll find someone who’s willing to stay, Y/N.”

You feel his eyes on you, and without hesitation, you turn your face to look at him. His cheeks are reddened, his cheekbones are accentuated under the moonlight and bright stars, but your more drawn to the way his lips pout together.

“And I hope you find someone who’s just as crazy about love as you are, Steve.” You smile.

He’s about to say something, to ask you a question that he had been longing to ask you for so, so long. But the cheers and drunken chants from the inside call you both back to the living room. The flatscreen TV broadcasts the Ball Drop from NYC, showing the masses of people that had gathered to celebrate the new year. Guests clink their glasses with one another as the countdown hits at the twenty-second mark, and you feel the heightened adrenaline of having a new year approach. Kate and Robin manage to find you, snapping last minute 2019 polaroids in the span of 10 seconds.

“Robin, kiss me!” Kate cackles jokingly, pulling Robin into a rib-crushing hug as they jump around in excitement. You laugh at them, taking your phone to record the moment around you as people begin to count the last few seconds.

Five...

You tuck your phone back into your bag, crossing it over your body as you wrap your arms around your front.

Four...

Steve mimics your posture, but he can’t help but look over at you, waiting for you to pick up on what he was very subtly trying to suggest.

Three...

“Y/N?”

Fuck it.

“Yeah?”

“About that kiss... on - on the night we went ice skating...” He scratches his neck, rambling. “I really - really enjoyed it. And you. Spending time with you.”

“Yeah, me too. I... I had lots of fun and I’m glad that you brought it up because well, I wasn’t sure if I had messed up or something since you weren’t talking about it.”

“Oh! Oh, trust me, you - you did everything perfect.”

Two...

“I did?”

“Yeah, of course. But... but I wanted to ask if... I don’t know if ice-skating counts as a - as a first date but...” He swallows nervously. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Like a real one?”

One...

You step forwards on your heels, cupping Steve’s cheeks in your hands as you kiss him intensely. Your fingers brush over his jaw, and his hands come to rest on the small of your back as he brings you further against him. Party poppers and confetti erupt through the apartment as the clock hits midnight, and you force yourself to pull away from Steve’s lips.

“I’m available next weekend.” You utter, catching your breath.

“Huh?” Steve replies with shaky hands.

You giggle at that, touching his arm. “I meant that I’m available next weekend for our date. If you want to go around that time.” You say to him with blushing cheeks, but never break eye contact.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, me too. I’ll pick you up again. Or we can meet there, whatever you’d prefer.” He smacks his lips together, unintentionally tasting your fruity lipgloss.

“Just text me. And we can plan from there.” You nod, pulling your hand away from him. Before he can say anything else that would embarrass him, Steve excused himself to go make conversation with Jonathan, who seems to have turned up with a few old friends from his hometown.

But at the same time, he couldn’t really focus when all he can see is you across the room, talking animatedly with your gold dress and your high heels and your captivating smile.

And those eyes.

The way you look at him.

The way you give him your undivided attention.

It drives him a bit crazy.

Steve swore that you were just another crush - just another girl who he’d try to get by and probably break up with in the following week after officiating things. But no. You had completely caused him to take a full 360, like literally: when you had hit him with your car, when you offered to bring him coffee, when you said yes to ice skating. He was already entranced by you.

It was supposed to be a crush.

Only a crush.

Nothing more.

But here he was - already falling in love, and he hasn’t even taken out on a proper date.

New year, new beginnings, right?

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

Lost Time: Ch. 4

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: T

Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumors of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies.

A/N: Ayyyy, look who finally decided to update. Been sitting on this one for a while before I realized I was never going to be 100% happy with it. And I finally have wi-fi again! Hopefully it’ll stick around and I’ll actually be able to work on my fics and post more frequently.

Read on AO3

Preview:

"Even the mightiest empires would crumble without a strong foundation to support them." - Mancikan Proverb

Fred stumbles down the hallway after Arwen. "Would you slow down a little? I have to jog to keep up with you."

"You really can't take a hint, can you?" Arwen sighs in defeat and slows her long strides.

"Aw, come on. I thought we ended things on good terms last summer. We're all gonna have to be friends eventually." Fred really didn't understand what was up with these girls. Why did they hate him and his friends so much? Sure, last year had been a little chaotic, but they all made it out alive. He'd been trying to play nice, but they were being so difficult, always acting like they were better than him and his friends.

Then again, Arwen's a Red Sox fan. Maybe Fred shouldn't be trying so hard with her. He glanced at her, trying not to be obvious about it. He likes that Arwen doesn't look like most girls with their pounds of make-up and frilly clothes. Honestly, Arwen looked more like a boy than a girl.

But Fred's smart enough not to say that out loud.

"Look, just show me where this training room is, and I promise I won't bother you. I need someplace to keep in shape for football. Besides, I always listen to my music when I work out anyway."

"I just prefer to train alone."

"You won't even know I'm there. Promise." He puts his hand over his heart and gives her what he hopes is a trusting smile.

Arwen studies him out of the corner of her eye and purses her lips. "Fine. I guess it wouldn't be too terrible if you got in shape and learned how to throw a punch. It would definitely have been useful last summer."

"Get in shape?" Fred's smile drops. "I'm already in shape. I mean, look at me!" He flexes his arms to emphasize his point. Despite his best efforts, there isn't much to see.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Right. Bulging muscles aside, do you know how to fight?"

Fred thinks about the brawls he's had with his brothers and all the times he's wrestled with Joe and Sam. He rarely won against his brothers, but he held his own against Joe and Sam well enough, but he's pretty sure Arwen wouldn't count those as real fights.

"I'll take your silence as a no then." She tries to hide her smug smile, but Fred sees it anyway.

"Fine. I don't know how to actually fight, and maybe I'm not as fit as I should be. I don't suppose you'd be willing to teach me anything?"

Fred knows she's going to laugh at him and say no. After all, all of the girls were pretty far ahead of them when it came to this magic stuff. Besides, they'd been treating him and his friends like annoying younger brothers since they met, and Fred was all too familiar with how those relationships worked out. He didn't need another Mike in his life.

He's about to let the whole thing drop and find some other way to entertain himself tonight, but Arwen surprises him by saying, "Why?"

Fred blinks. The only response he'd been expecting was a 'no'. "Why what?"

"Why do you want to work out with me? Or hang out with me at all?" She stops walking to look him square in the eye. She crosses her arms. "What's your goal here?"

"Uh…" He really didn't know how to answer that. He liked Arwen. Out of the girls, she was the easiest to read. She never seemed like she was hiding anything, even when it came to how she felt about him. He respected that honesty, even if it hurt sometimes. She was also hands-down the toughest of the girls. Fred still couldn't believe she fought a drakon one on one with no weapons or armor. Plus, working out was always better when you had a friend to spot you at the gym. 

"I guess I just enjoy your company." That didn't really explain his feelings, but it was true.

"Even though I'm a Red Sox fan?" Arwen's frown turned into a playful smirk.

"Yes, even though you're a Red Sox fan. It's not your fault you were born in Boston. If you were a New Yorker, I'm sure you'd love the Yankees."

Her gaze drops to the floor. "I don't think my dad would ever let that happen."

"Why?"

She chews her lip. "He's just a really big Red Sox fan. Runs in the family, you see."

"Sure." Fred totally understands that. Everyone in his family is a die-hard Yankees fan. He can't even imagine what they would do to him if he tried rooting for another team.

Arwen starts to move down the hallway again, taking a sharp right into a plain doorway. "All right. I guess I can teach you a thing or two."

"Really?" Even after all that, Fred is still surprised to hear her say it.

"Yes, really. You should come in before I change my mind."

Fred hurries in the room after her, excited to see what kind of cool magical training gear he would be able to use. He could picture fancy machines that would let him work out all parts of his body at once. Or maybe even enchanted armor that fought him in hand-to-hand combat. Would he get to learn how to use weapons? Like Tessa's sabre?

He bursts into the room, more excited than he's ever been to work out.

His excitement plummets as he takes in the gym. He recognizes every piece of equipment here. It's just a normal work-out room, like the one at his regular school back on Earth.

Arwen chuckles from behind him. "You seem disappointed. What were you expecting? This is a training room for non-magic users."

"Well yeah, but, we're still at a magic school. I expected more. I'm pretty sure my brothers have more equipment than this in their bedrooms back home." He walks over to the weights in the corner. The highest dumbbell is only thirty pounds. He sighs, crosses his arms, and leans against the wall.

"The stuff my brothers and I use is better than all this too, but we could always ask Ro and Cas to get us better equipment." She walks over to a large black mat on the side of the room. "They haven't had non-magic people here in a long time. That's why most of this stuff is so outdated."

"What's so special about us then? Why do we get to be here if we can't control time or space?"

"I don't think we're the special ones. Did you see the way Joe and Tess were acting at dinner tonight? Their meeting with Ro and Cas must have been bad, and their future must be bad enough that they're allowed to bring an emotional support team with them."

"Whatever it is, it can't be that bad." Fred joins Arwen on the mat where she's already begun to stretch. He does the same.

She shrugs in response. "I just can't help but feel like we have a long summer ahead of us."

They stretch in silence for a few more minutes. Finally, Fred jumps back to his feet. He sways back and forth, like a video game character waiting to strike. "All right, coach. What's first? You gonna teach me how to roundhouse-kick someone? Or do a judo-flip? Oh! How about an ax kick?" With each question, he strikes out at the air, like he's fighting an enemy only he can see.

Arwen shakes her head and remains seated. "How about we start with a simple punch?"

He stills. "A punch? I can throw a punch. I have two older brothers who pick on me all the time."

"Show me how you throw a punch then."

"On you?"

"How about you use the practice dummy that's right behind you instead?" She points over his shoulder to a large black fighting dummy. Like everything else in the room, it's fairly basic and has no arms or legs. The head is also bent at a weird angle, showing its wear.

"Oh, right." Fred blushes and turns to the dummy instead. Of course, Arwen wouldn't want to actually fight him. After seeing what she did to the drake in Caelus, he has to admit, he's kind of relieved.

He hears her get to her feet behind him. She moves to stand directly beside him and faces him. Her eyes do a quick scan up and down his body. Not even remotely in a flirtatious way like he's used to from the girls at school back in Brooklyn. This look is purely analytical. He can tell she's already judging his posture and technique.

"Well? Punch away."

Fred notices Arwen smirking at him from the corner of his eye. He scoffs, ready to show her up. He was insulted that this was all she was asking him to do. His skills were way above this. Throwing a punch was something he'd mastered a long time ago when learning to survive his brothers' torment.

He shifts his weight back on one foot, pulls his elbow far behind his head, pauses for dramatic effect, and then lets loose on the dummy. He strikes it directly in the chest.

And forces himself not to let out a pained cry.

Why did that hurt so much? This dummy was made out of rubber, not concrete. He bites his lip and lowers his fist, hoping that it isn't swelling up as much as it feels like it is. "See?" he manages to get out without too much whimpering. "Punching is easy."

Arwen's hand is covering her mouth. Fred can tell from her shaking that she's trying not to laugh, and failing miserably.

She takes a deep breath before dropping her hand, calming her giggles. "Be honest. How badly does your hand hurt right now?"

"Not at all."

"Really?"

"Yup."

She raises an eyebrow at him, one hand falling to her hip. "If you want me to teach you how to fight, you need to at least respect me enough to be open and honest with me."

"Oh, like you girls have been so open and honest with us?" The comment slips out before Fred can help it. The pain in his hand and annoyance at Arwen for laughing at him makes his words harsher than he means. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine." Her face closes off again. Whatever progress they had made towards friendship is gone.

"No, really. I know Joe's been a pain in the ass about all this. Maybe he's just rubbing off on me. I don't think you girls are that bad."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Um…" Fred rubs the back of his neck. "You guys have been coming off as kind of stuck-up. I know you're way ahead of us with all this magic stuff, but it would be nice if you helped us be more like you rather than shutting us down all the time. We have a lot to learn to catch up to you, so why not get us there quicker, and then we can all learn together."

She squints her eyes at him. "That's… unexpectedly thoughtful and smart of you."

"Well, I play a lot of sports. Teamwork is kind of my thing." His hands drop to his sides. "Maybe we all should start fresh. Just forget what happened last summer and move on."

Arwen chuckles and shakes her head. "I think too much happened last summer for that to work, but it's a nice thought. Look, I meant what I said earlier. I want to train with you. It would be really nice to have someone else be the muscle for the group every once in a while, but I also meant it when I said you need to be honest with me. I can't help you otherwise."

"Seems like we need to make a compromise then. You'll quit acting like you're better than me, and I'll be honest next time I break my hand. Deal?" He holds his swollen hand out for her to shake, a grin spreading over his lips.

"Deal." Arwen laughs and grabs his hand, not to shake, but to inspect the damage. She lets out a low whistle. "Damn, you really did a number on yourself."

"Will I live, doc?"

"Only if we amputate it immediately."

The two teens laugh, breaking up the last bits of tension in the room. When they finally manage to settle down, Arwen tells Fred to reposition himself in front of the dummy. He does as he's told and lines up to strike again.

"Freeze." Arwen moves in close to readjust Fred's form.  The scent of her perfume fills his nose. She may look boyish, but she definitely smelled like a girl, and not like the cheap body sprays the girls at school wore. She wore a rich, intoxicating perfume. The kind he imagined supermodels or heiresses wore.

She moves behind him. For the first time, Fred realizes that she is actually taller than him, not by much, but enough for this whole situation to become somewhat embarrassing for him.

"Lower your arm and hold it here." She moves his elbow down. "And twist your heel out. You need to punch with your whole body, not just your arm." She fixes his posture with ease, like she's done this a thousand times before.

"Where did you learn all this anyway?" Fred holds the new position she put him in. He has to admit, it feels a lot more natural this way.

"Well, I have eight older brothers."

"So you had to learn to fight to survive?" He understood that. It was the same thing he had dealt with growing up.

"Not exactly." She continues to make minor adjustments to Fred's stance. "Even though my oldest brother, Ryan, is twice my age, we've always been pretty close. We had our scraps like any siblings, but we never beat up each other just for fun."

Must be nice, Fred thinks to himself.

"I learned to fight because the twins, Riley and Richie, were getting picked on a lot at school. They've always been the pacifist type, so someone had to learn to stand up for them. I took a couple of classes, showed up to their school one day, and put those bullies in their place. My mom was furious," Arwen shrugs, but a gleam in her eye reveals how she really feels about it, "but the twins haven't been picked on since. And it turns out, fighting is really fun. 

"So when Tessa asked me to come to Horae Manor with her, I immediately said yes. A chance to train with warriors and fight magical beasts? How could I say no? Of course, just like you, I was disappointed when I realized that wasn't the case."

"Aside from fighting magical beasts," he adds.

She grins. "Aside from that, yeah. But in order to fight them, you have to do a lot of research. You have to learn about their weaknesses and any special abilities they may have. Fighting people is way easier as long as they can't use magic. Then all the rules change."

He cringes. Studying isn't exactly his favourite pastime. Why can't he learn as he fights his way through the magic world? He'd figure out pretty quickly how to take down any monster. Then he remembers the acid flying out of the drake's mouth, and how it burned through marble and stone. Maybe a little research would help.

"Okay. This is how you should stand when you're about to punch something. Feel it?"

Fred settles into the stance. "I think so."

"You'll definitely feel the difference when you punch the dummy this time. Now, when you're striking out make sure you use your whole body. It adds more momentum and makes the punch way more powerful, but once you make contact, stop your fist and pull it back into you. Watch me."

Arwen stands in the same position as Fred. She pulls her arm back and swings at the dummy, hitting it square in the jaw. She pulls her arm back without any whimpering or hand swelling.

"Now you try." She steps out of the way. "Oh, and don't punch someone in the chest. Focus on the weaker spots like their chin or throat."

Fred stands like he was taught, pulls back, and lets loose. His fist strikes the dummy in the throat this time, and he quickly pulls his hand back in front of him. His hand still hurts, but nowhere near as bad as it did after the first punch.

"Better?" Arwen crosses her arms and smirks at him.

"So much better." Fred smiles back. "What else have you got for me, coach?"

[takadasaiko]

72 for Bobo del Rey holy fucking tomatoes

FFN II AO3

Summary: Wyatt Earp gets a first-hand experience at just how much his friend Robert has changed since he last knew him.

Notes: One of the reasons I haven’t buckled down and written a multi chapter spec fic is that I have to many ideas. One of those is where Wyatt comes back and the team finds him. I was discussing part of that idea with someone and realized how well this little part would fit the prompt. So here we are. I don’t intend to have a resurrected Wyatt in any future one-shots (maybe? You never know. An AU to a little series of one shots that will eventually be AU?). 

Writing Prompt #76 “You deserve so much better”

Deserve Better (Fallen Series)

They’d found him locked away in what was little more than a dungeon. How long he has been there, Wyatt really couldn’t say. It had been a blur of time. The one thing he was certain of was that it was Clootie’s doing. He would never forget that demon’s face.

Everything had happened so fast he had barely had time to process it. Three men had appeared at his cell door, one of which had been Doc Holliday. Wyatt had felt relief sweep through him as he pulled his old friend in. He was alive. How didn’t matter. Not anymore. Not after everything.

The second man in - a deputy marshal by the name of Dolls he found out - had hurried Doc along in getting Wyatt free. The third spoke in a low, almost strained voice when he announced that they weren’t alone and to get Wyatt out of there. He would meet up with them later. It hadn’t been until they had gotten out that they had explained that their third was a Revenant himself. The other Revenants couldn’t kill him even if they tried, so he was the one that got to buy them time. Wyatt never saw the Revenant’s face and he didn’t recognize the name that Doc called him by. Funny, he thought he remembered each of those that had been caught up in the curse.

Bobo Del Rey had kept tight control of most of the Revenants in Purgatory, so Wyatt learned. He had lost a lot of that when Clootie was resurrected, but he’d struck a deal with the current Heir and those still loyal to him were willing to help them put Clootie down in return for a free pass when all of this was over. Seemed like a fair enough deal. Or it would have been if they were still men and not demons.

And that was what had brought Wyatt Earp to this strange place with its high gates, guards armed with guns very different than the ones he was used to, and glowing red eyes side-eyeing him even as they let him in. He held his hands up as a sign of what he hoped was good faith. “I’m here to speak to Bobo Del Rey,” he declared. He just needed to know for himself who this creature really was. He needed to make sure his great great granddaughter wasn’t making a mistake that would cost her her life.

He made them nervous, that much was obvious. They wouldn’t make eye contact with him and answered any questions he asked in short sentences. He finally caught one Revenant’s eye, a thin smile quirking his lips at the way he shifted away when Wyatt called him by name.

Their mood seemed to change as another approached, and he looked about the right height for the Revenant that had been with Doc and Dolls earlier that day. Wyatt hadn’t gotten a good look at his face, but he would now, and hopefully he’d have a better idea what to expect. There were half a dozen outlaws he’d come up with that might have changed his name and taken over, and none of those former men instilled any sense of trust in him.

“Wyatt Earp,” that same deep voice from earlier greeted him as he approached. He was a sight with most of his hair shaved off his head except the strip of stark white hair, a single strip of black in it. He wore a heavy fur coat with buckles and straps, his shirt torn beneath it and his boots an odd style. Nothing like what Wyatt was accustomed to, but the world had certainly changed in the last ninety or so years.

It was those eyes that Wyatt recognized, and it felt like someone had dealt him a hard blow to the middle. He couldn’t draw a reasonable breath in as he stared. “Robert,” he managed with what remained of the air in his lungs and his friend stiffened a little at the name.

“Take a walk, boys,” he instructed the Revenants around them.

“But he-”

“You think I don’t know who he is? A man doesn’t forget the one that killed him.” Robert’s voice was cold. Somehow those blue eyes were sharper when they weren’t hidden behind his spectacles. “Plans haven’t changed tonight. Get to work.”

The Revenant Robert had directed the order to looked over to Wyatt. “You gonna have him take Carl over?”

Robert snorted. “Wyatt Earp? Wouldn’t want him to dirty up that conscious of his. I said I’d do it myself. Nothin’s changed.” The expression he wore looking so foreign on his features. Everything looked… off. It left Wyatt feeling a little sick. Like a monster wore his friend’s face. A demon.

The Revenants moved away to whatever business they were being sent on and Robert waited until they were out of earshot to turn back to meet Wyatt’s eyes. “Let me guess, Holliday sent you here without telling you who I was, hoping you’d catch me in the middle of something you’d hate.”

The words threw the gunslinger a moment. “I don’t think that was his intention,” he managed after a moment, but even he wouldn’t have believed himself and it certainly didn’t look like Robert did as he chuckled, flashing white teeth in a way that made him look strangely dangerous. He was, Wyatt reminded himself. He hadn’t escaped the curse.

“Oh, I think you and I both know better than that,” he murmured, something like amusement colouring his voice. “Hank gets his blows in where he can, and fighting for the same cause does limit him on the ones he can get away with these days.”

Wyatt had always known that the two men wouldn’t be close, but he’d hoped on some level they might be able to get past their differences. Apparently not.

He cleared his throat. “Well, at least I understand now why you were willing to side with Wynonna. I… I’d hoped that you might have escaped this curse-”

“Did you?” Robert tilted his head in question. “Because the good ol’ padre got me a set of letters you left for me explaining everything. Sure as hell looked like you knew I’d be caught in it.”

Wyatt closed his eyes, gathering himself. Robert was angry with him. It wasn’t like he’d meant to wrap him up in this mess. He hadn’t meant to get his friend killed. “I’d hoped,” he repeated sternly. “I am sorry, Robert. Truly I am, but if this had to happen… at least we can face this together.” He watched as Roberts expression melted from a sort of shock at his words to a laugh that chilled him to his core.

“Sure,” he growled, the word harsh and biting as he turned.

Wyatt reached out, catching hold of the coat. “Robert, please. Nothing I can say can put this right, but we’re both here now. What were you talking about earlier? Something that needed to be done.”

He watched the man he’d once been close with close his eyes, a low snarl escaped him that was so very, very different than the Robert he’d known. He turned back though, his eyes flashing briefly red. “You wanna see what’s happening here? Keep up.”

Wyatt hesitated only a beat before following Robert’s quick and determined pace through the collection of… homes? He wasn’t sure, but he did see pairs of red eyes watching him as they moved, hell’s own brand marking the scattered faces. He kept up with Robert until they made it to a circle and he saw those faces had followed them to the opening where a fire was building in the middle, a man chained there. He looked terrified and Wyatt looked to Robert for some sort of clarification as to what was happening.

“Don’t interfere,” was the only warning the naturally dark haired man growled as he took center stage.

The man chained near the fire started to whimper loudly. “I didn’t have a choice, boss! Bulshar, he made me-”

Robert flashed forward with an unnatural speed, snapping the nearly weeping man up by the hair on top of his head and hauling him till he was standing. “You’re not doing yourself any favours, Carl, calling that name out here. You think he’s going to save you? Protect you? No. You’re expendable. That’s why he sent you in. I would have protected you, but you turned. I told you what would happen, didn’t I? I warned you.”

“Bobo, please,” the Revenant - Carl - begged, but there was no mercy in those blue eyes.

“I warned you,” Robert answered icily and straightened, eyeing the others. “Take this as yours. Clootie will be put into the ground permanently. He can’t and won’t save you. Not from me.”

Wyatt watched as Robert reached down, unhooking part of the chain and the other Revenants murmured. “What will he do to him?” he asked the one closest to him and the demon blinked.

“Bobo warned us that if any switched to Clootie’s side he’d haul ‘im over the line himself.”

“The line?”

“For the Triangle. Outside.”

Then it clicked. They were stuck inside of it. “But he can’t leave. None of you can.”

“Without hell on earth, yeah.”

That’s why they’d asked if Wyatt was going to do it. He wasn’t a Revenant. He wasn’t bound to the Triangle like they were. “Won’t that do the same to Ro- to Bobo?”

The Revenant shrugged. “Sure, but ain’t nobody gonna cross him again. Not being willing to go that far.”

Don’t interfere. Now he understood, more than he might have been able to before. It had been nearly a century since Wyatt had passed away and the curse had truly begun. Robert hadn’t had a choice in what happened, but there he was still fighting the fight. It was terrible and it was ugly, and it was impossible for someone to come out of that whole. The fact that he’d retained his loyalty in any shape at all spoke volumes. It was…. so very Robert, despite the changes.

The screams sounded in the distance they crossed the boundary. Wyatt could see the way the smoke was rising from both Revenants, but Robert remained stoic, fastening the chain and bending to speak directly in the prisoner’s ear before starting back for the line.

No one moved to help him and somehow he was still on his feet. He swayed very slightly as he crossed back over, but kept right on going without a word, the screams of the one he’d left on the other side echoing. The other Revenants began to disperse, the show over, and Robert stalked in what looked like a particular direction.

Wyatt followed him to one of the tin homes that were scattered. “Robert?” he called softly.

“You wanna talk it’ll need to be in here,” Robert grumbled and Wyatt barely caught the door before it swung closed in his face.

He stepped in and home was a very loose interpretation of the sparsely decorated space. If he lived there, it didn’t look like he stayed there often. Robert moved to a cushioned bench and all but collapsed into it, his arm wrapped around his middle and his face screwed up in pain. “Shut the door and lock it,” he managed and after a moment of looking Wyatt found the latch to do so. When he looked back over he saw Robert struggling out of his coat, patches of skin showing to be red and angry once his arms were free of it. He grunted as he pull something wrong.

“Hey, take it easy,” Wyatt murmured, moving to help him, but he found himself startled to a stop as a snarl left his old friend, blue eyes shifting to red and the skin around it darkening. Interesting. No brand showed on his face like the others.

“What do you want, Wyatt?”

The response died in the other man’s throat. He wanted to help him, yes, but that really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He had done this. This was his fault, and that realization was becoming more real with each passing second.

Robert grimaced and leaned back. “Can’t you save whatever judgement you have to deal out until I’ve healed?”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “I have… no room to judge you, Robert. I think you and I both know that. You wouldn't….” He paused, not accustomed to being at a loss for words. Best just to be honest. “I did this.”

Blue eyes blinked, pained expression giving way to confusion. He sat up a little straighter and he turned his attention briefly to the marks on his arms before long fingers started working at his shirt, pulling it up to inspect what was being hidden by it. Angry, red burns that looked like they went a lot deeper than any burn should - almost like he’d been burned from the inside out - stretched across his torso. They ran below and all along his ribs and up above where his shirt still covered them, some lighter marks appear above his collar line. “I told you to take the shot,” he said after a long moment, his voice still gruff, but much less defensive than it had been before.

“You didn’t know what would happen.”

There was a sigh and he reached up to massage the bridge of his nose, a habit that even Wyatt knew. “Neither did you.”

Wyatt set his jaw. “Don’t you hate me for it?”

“Oh yes,” Robert drawled out.

Well, that stung more than he’d expected.

The Revenant loosed a long breath and eased the shirt back down, finally meeting his eyes. “And no. It's….” He shook his head.

“Complicated,” Wyatt murmured.

“Yeah.” He reached up and ran his hand along the strip of hair on top of his head, flattening it down a little. “I didn’t mind dying for you, Wyatt. I was ready to ride to hell and back if that’s what you needed, and I have. I…” He closer his eyes. “Just woulda been nice if I’d meant as much to you too.”

He felt abandoned. That’s what this was. “Every letter you wrote back said you were doing better.” The argument felt hollow even to him.

Robert snorted. “I lied.”

“Obviously.”

“What was I supposed to say, Wyatt? Come sit with me as I die? By the time I’d pushed it too far…. It was too late all the way around.”

There was a beat of silence between them and Wyatt took a seat across from his newly injured friend, their eyes meeting. “I am sorry. I’d have come back if I’d known. I never meant for you to be alone.”

“You always did love John Henry,” Robert murmured and he sounded like he was echoing the words from someone else.

“And you,” Wyatt promised softly. “You were my dear friend, Robert. For me, that hasn’t changed.”

“I’m a demon.”

“You’re Robert Svane.” Blue eyes flickered up and Wyatt sighed. “I ain’t saying you’re the same as you were then, but that doesn’t change your core. You’re a good man, Robert, always have been.”

Robert gave a mirthless chuckle. “Death made you delusional.”

“And it made you a bit more of an asshole than I remember,” Wyatt answered with a smirk of his own. “Lost that damnably polite tone of yours along the way, didn’t you?”

His old friend’s expression eased just a little. “First thing to go.” He shifted, the amusement fading. “We should head back into town.”

Wyatt nodded and stood, offering Robert a hand up. He saw the way that he looked at it funny for just a moment, like he wasn’t sure if he should take it or not. “You deserved better than all of this. So much better.”

“Yeah,” he said roughly, finally accepting the hand and letting Wyatt help pull him up to his feet. “But now we’re gonna give Clootie exactly what he deserves.”

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone Wars    Episode 10

        Lair of Grievous

An interesting     episode title

 For sure

 [Quote]

  Most powerful is he who controls      his own power

I really    Like       This      Quote

Being a fan of ... accountability

Notably

“Vice      Gunroy

   Escapes,”

Ahhhhh

   I mean?

 The        Episode      Before       Was      (Marginally)         Better        ....         

   To         It’s    Pre      de   cessor

 Why     do       I         Get        The         Feeling             This          Is        Gonna           Be           A         Long        Run..?

    Any       way

    That’s         Going

    Only       that         one         Guy

    No...       -Body         Else

   Uhm

  Kit        Fisto

  What?!

  Okay

 Guess

   His      design        Looks           Neat

    And          No         Ahsoka!       (The         Bad       Parts.)

“Gun-”

 “And     Return    Him       Just-”

Ena     bling!      Where       he’ll      be     put        in      a     cell       with   other     inmates   that   don’t    deserve     that

And       a     distraction      from   reckoning       with       the     consequences       of     his     actions

(And    the     hope     of     getting      out)

“ I know we’re in the middle of     nowhere,”

 I like this   guy

He sounds cool

Has a personality

(An over involved        one?”

But generally good

This might help my     nerves     after     last     episode

Very     chill

Nice

- Oh spoke     too     soon

So has your old Padawan       Dolved

???

Seriously, does everyone keep track of everyone else’s       Padawan

Obi-Wan, it made sense because he’s an   over involved       dick

But, seriously

Shouldn’t that     be   left    To   Yoda as the grand high   Jedi?

He is the guy that okay’s these requests, right?

It’ll   be   great   to   see   Nadar   again

Dude,     he’s   busy

“ i’ll   transmit      the   coordinates      for      the     ren      dez      vous     point,”

Hey     they   got   Ahsoka right!

Maybe     this     episode     won’t   be     a     headache

(Also they just casually    help him      stalk    his apprentice?

 Like,     that   should     be     his   choice

Like yeah  two heads are better than one but that doesn’t mean he agrees   to be a two- headed dragon

Dick   move

And-       It’s    Gone        (to be fair,       it’s only       slightly         too     much         Tone         Than      Ne    cess     ary

“Yet,”

  No

“Good hunting”

  NO!

Well....         It’s       Over,

Okay....

Nice     backgrounds,

This is a really neat   land

Oh, now     they’re     landing

Oh,     cool

Fog     -gy

Neat

Po   -or     Be     -epy              Ro      -bot

 He   can’t     see     any       -thing

“you’ll     be    fine      R6,”

You   have   legs

Not   pleas   ed

Hav   ing         A               Good      Time

“Nadar,”

*Bows*

Dear   frick   who   invited   him   here?

Like,     Dude

Even     if     the     Gen   shares     the   same   inspiration     as   you,       you   still   have     to     obey         by    the   rules     of       tox

 Aka   you   don’t     get     to   be    a   dick   just   because     it’s      a     differ     ent      gen

You   get   kicked       to     the   accoun   -t- ability     curve,         just      as   well

Walk                Ing        into            Some’s      bus    -i      ness      un   warrant   ed    And   un    -ask-      ed     For     Is      Tox

  And     then,           to    follow       it      up,      with       hey          you        did        well       on the           test          we make         you        take!”

    To     prove        we     can’t     assume    authority        over      you

 [Jedi   master     ship         I     believe]

  I’m surprised dude doesn’t say      ‘yeah       your     stupid   club         sucks,”

 “ i’m     sorry        the      war    pre      -vented     me       from   seeing     your      train    ing   through     to    the   end”]

wait   dude’s        Mentor     bitched    out     and      he      still      had       to      take         the         test?!

Murder      is       now      on      the      table!*

   Note; this is a joke

    I   never   advocate   death   over   account   ability

But, geez       Dude got     screwed      over

   You     were      missed    master

 How    old       is     he?

 I’m   going    with   adult-

Knight     Ok      he    has   enthusiasm   

We’re   all   good!

Then    let’s    have     a     look

Allow       me     to     show        the     way

Trans   lation;      Stop    ass    um      ing    

au     tho  rity

Good     for      him

Pretty    pow.

Also   yeah   just   casually   found

“Charming,”

That’s      a   back   -handed   compliment

Like   calling   something   “quaint”

 Dude     if     you’re   going   to      be    on          this             Quest,        Be      Nice,

 Look   after    the   ships

Oh     those     poor      guys

What       happens     to them?

  [Also     ships?]

Okay

 So,     Sith     mon     astery

No      Guards

It’s a Sith   mon    as     tery     surrounded   by     fog

Clearly       they      were      going       for      stealth

[And     it       Is    pretty      re       mote]

The   ent       rance     looks   sealed

 Yeah      It’s    Old

Possibly     -came in the      back    entrance

 And hoped       no one     wou ld    suspect

[We   specialize     in   ma   king   entrances]

Should     n’t     Dude          (Jedi)     Know       That

  Their,       Jedi

   Also        yeah       the      place     clearly      built       for    stealth

    Let’s       bomb       open        the       front       door

     Not        like        they         could       sneak        out            a          back          way

     This           will        make         less         noise

      Thank            you      common          sense

       But,              It           will            still             allow           them                 a              lot              of             time               To              Es              cape

          Like;    

This why staking out is     important

Patience     the both        of you

 THE      NERVE!

  Dude       he got here         First!

   You        wanna         help?

  Be     back up!

 “ A second look     usually      pays       off,”

   On hand,     yes- scouting      ahead       is      good

  On the    other-

   DICK           way        of        put      ting       it

   You      want        to        explore?

    Do          it      your        self

  You      just     assu      med       author        ity       over        a  wh-          ole      group          of      people

      Stopping             them              from             doing              their              thing

[I’m     fully       expec        -ting        him         to       snap          at         five

Like he’s being   pretty   enab-     ling

But   Dude’s       being         a      prick

  [pla  -ying by the        rule of      “But,”         Inst         ead         Of       “Or,”           Or        “And,”

   During          their      re    latively       func   -tional   mission

[dude     never     said      he    couldn’t      blow      up        the        mon     astery

  Just    stated         the fact         and        went        about          his           biz

A nice     factor

 “What’s       this,”

    A      stone

   Bull         -shit

 Whelp

   Smug        Ass

    You        smell         that?

 Arro   gance?

[let him     get    caught     in     a      trap]

“ smells        like     droids,”

 Metal      Does      -

 It’s     too dark to see      anything

   There’s       white       bulbs

Also     [Forgot to     mention],      Chek       Ov’s         Gun?

[For     the    Gun]

 Whelp

  They          Have        Lights

 [Also,            Dark       side      shadowing]

   Whelp

    Hey         at least        there’s not as much point

     Whelp

[I sense     there’s something     here]

 Yeah?!

 Was          that       not          the whole point?

 Whelp,

 A rusted     out      old      factory

   Whelp

    Poss-          Ibly

    Watch-           Ing

    “Ssh,”

      You         sure        about         that?

    Whelp

  “Well     that was   some thing,”

   Jedi,         you gonna            do anything      about that?

    Whelp

    Dude          Taking         point

     Aga       -in

   Whelp

 Ordering      someone else’s     troops

  [I seriously hope        that       comes to bite him         in the ass]

     Roger          Roger

     Crud         it’s the moon                             clones!

No,      just droids up the stairs

Neat

They     don’t see     that?

 Whelp

 Vice   Roy

What’s    going          on

  They     robots;      they’re        already     designed      to protect     you

Also;        BAIT!

The Jedi        are here

 Trap!

Also they’re     walking         side-by-side      Nice

 That’s     totally        someone      else     I       call        it

 “ I know       they’re             near,”

    Voice    recording?

    Whelp

    They’re          right       behind         you

    What,       where        do   something?

 Def       -initely       a   diff      -erent   per   -son

Whelp

Taking    longer     than     expect     (ing)

“ Have      you ever killed a Jedi?”

 These    guys have time for    this

When   fighting to fully trained adult       Jedi

BS

Those basic      clankers

There the  basic mooks   that gets mowed down   in the hundreds

Bs

Good   Commentary

Bad     timing

Oh   now   it speeds   up

Good for   them

They   were   loo   -king   pretty   lame

 Whelp

Stop   playing    with     them!

Republic     Dogs

Restraint

Shut    the     fuck      up

  It took hours

 Because

“restr       aint,”

Against    

Mach      inery

 “ i’m   sorry     master,”

Don’t   apologize

  He’s     being       a     prick

  Like      even       by      my     stan-      dards

  [ignor-         ing        the       war]

     He      turned        a fun       exercise       again        st        machinery     boring

       By           micro         managing          every           one

    -carried         Away

     This          -dick

      Those that have power       should restrain themselves          from using it

     Against         machines?

       Dude....

      I stick pretty closely to one          moral code

       And there was nothing even remotely     reprehensible

       About           That           Deal

      Yeah,        if they were sentient

       But, they act just like normal   robots               Running on         prot      ocol           Alone

    Giv         ing        no       hint          to       sen     tience

    Your complaint        literally         comes          down

    To        chopping them into          one           or more pieces

        That’s            extremely              overcontrolling          and              overbearing

        Not to mention to       reprimand        someone....

       Dick            Move 

      That’s          the         point

    Least        it        had       dark       ened      lighting

 “Lieuten        ant,”

Called    it

  Also     way      to      go     dip shits

  You left a com that can be traced back to your exact location

   Whelp

  Okay...

  The tracking          beacon

   Yeah

They knew   we were coming

 And   didn’t send a trap

Instead sene a thing     that can be traced back to the location

Should’ve known   Gunnery wasn’t here

 No,   you should’ve exercised caution

Well at least he isn’t blaming-

Screaming

Yes   he   would’ve

That    was     the     first     tip    off

Also;     clones?

 I apologize     for the deception

 Bull shit

I apologize for my     colleagues

 -What?

  Dude

Seriously

 How easy are you trying to make it for them to find   you?

Count      Dooku  

Why      Dude?

Oh   Wait   enablers   

Guess   this is their     tea     sess

 Okay    hit us     with        that       snark   

    ....

   Light     Roast

   He   honestly     seems       so       sad

   What

    This          has        got          to            be          a        trap

    No shit

   “Catch         Some          One,”

   No   not the vibe I got

  Also     there’s      the     clone

 Wondered     where      he     went

  “To      Catch,”

  Whelp

  Wow

  What?!

   Well

  Looks      like     someone      likes    creepy      statues  

   (I know       there’s       likely       some       deep        lore)

   Shrine

   Dude this whole place looks like a   monastery/castle?

   You’re just        figuring out        This might be some     ancient     something     or another

 It’s on a foggy     planet,         Huge,       Em-bedding      And   desolute

It basically screams     basic cult

 “Warrior,”

 I was going with   barbarian, but   that   works

Whelp

Weird  

 Juices

Nope        Metal

 Grievous      Cult

This is the lair of   General Grievous

 Are you sure it’s not    a cult?

 Like   I don’t know

But    I wouldn’t keep     Reminders     of how I was        brutally dismembered       Around

  IDK

Maybe I’m just not that    extra

Whelp     Dear     Frick

Back     to    the   thing

Also   yeah   don’t     leave

Get    Rein    force    ments

(I know I roast   Plo   about this all the time)

But    A few more Jedi      Might be useful      Against       a guy      With   multiple   hands

(Or at least     tell them       Your       Lo      cation,         What         a       quick    summary)

  So   they know what they’re getting into   if you disappear under   “mysterious   circumstances,”

Oh, plane

Oh,   Grievous

Looks   like     he’s doing   good for   himself

Seems       happy

Never    mind

Guess where  ignoring that   thing

With     The     Comms

Stale      mate

He   honestly   looks    sad

You   have   lost   your   focus

I mean   so far   he hasn’t   won shit

I’m honestly     surprised   he got it this far

Especially considering you’re the   negative overinvolvement side

Sidious       demands   more     dramatic   results

“ can’t   believe   I came   back    to   working   here,”

More   dead   Jedi

Did    he    kill     a   bitch?

(I would say   good for him          but    death<   Acco untability-)

You   expect   victory     over     Jedi

   Is battle        Droids

   It does    require      a brain

   And     a willingness     to escalate

   Oof

 Seriously,     Just       leave

  Whelp

  These        must be   trophies

  Jedi      he’s   murdered

  Isn’t the str- the Ed-    braid!        Thing       only     for   Padawan’s      Like,        you      don’t      seem        to       have       one

   So yeah       Grievous     probably killed a lot of children

     There    are        so      many

  Maybe      don’t      send     children       to fight       your battles

 Why      Would Dooku        want to set a        trap for his best general

    Minion disposing       Tea?

     Also, why are you      playing         into it?

   Like,         fair enough,           don’t turn down free      Intel

  But,      you could set a trap         and          be doing other things

   Like hunting down     Vice Roy   it doesn’t     make     sense

 “Are       we     the     bait      or      is   grie      -vous     the   -bait,”

Good   question

Definitely grievous though

 He was clearly      offered up      as a   distraction     From   Vice Roy

We    must    consider     who the trap          is for

  Grievous

  You’re      supposed    to     take     him      out

 Your   droid     is   track       ing      an     in       coming      ship

  Here      we     go

Match       es       the   descrip     tion

 Keep     out      of    sight

Whoa   whoa    hold     up

Why    are    they    calling     and     answering      to     you

These     are   Raden’s   troopers

Dude    has   literally   hijacked     his    whole      life

Dude       just     kick     him

 Like   fourth    time    but   ,seriously;

Capturing        him     could      turn      the     tide     of the   war

They’re      literally   handing     him      to you      on a       silver       platter

Dude - needs a break

If      he doesn’t know we’re    here

Instantly down to     do    Dooku’s     Dirty     Work

 “We     need        a      plan,”

  That’s     what      he     just   said

Whelp

That’s   neat

Cool

Mood   lighting   works

Guards

Does he even know what   happened?

Or   did      Sidious/Dooku     set up      this   elaborate      trap     while       he      was      out

   And       he’s      just    coming     home      like;

   Why        is       the     place       so     heckin    trashed

 Whelp

 Dick

 Dude      didn’t sign up for this

  Welcome      home     general

  Half willing to give it to you

 Whelp

*Oh*

Cough        ing

 Don’t     let     him       cut     the     line

Whelp  

  Heck

 He’s       Trying

 “ Don’t make me destroy you,”

 If they try to foreshadow that ear     lier

   No            Bad

   Ter         rible

 Whelp

 Seriously    did they just    reattach his    legs??

 Also,           They really did not bring anything else to capture him   with

 Besides   cables

To      Grab

 And nothing to tie him up   with

How did they    think     this was going to   go?

Argh

Just got     slap   stick        ed

Haha

“Pack     him      up”           ?

  Whelp

  Dude       they      are     just   knocked     out

 Whelp  

 Neat

Walking   a little   funny

Whelp

The clones get in the way

No   you        didn’t         bring   anything      to   restrain    him   with

“Taken     him,”

   Dude he just said       “taken”

   Not like he said    “killed”

   The most objectionable thing he said    in that     was     blaming   the clones   for his failure

  And   clearly    that     isn’t   your   issue

Narrowing  of the eyes was a    good   reaction

(Pretty sure the darkness is     Him putting unwonton pressure   and guilt tripping      (Gas        lighting)

 He’s just too much of a   coward     to say anything     because he can be held     accountable            At the      fifth      thing

 Let’s     tend      to     the   wounded

 Good      job   reflect     ing   mate

Whelp

Docter   where are you?

 Don’t    be upset with me     master

Geez

Dude does need a   break

Even     his     own     lair      is   toxic

Conversation

Rrgh

Look

Aww

Spare       parts

 Off

Body   guards

Remotely   deactivated      for       a    re-charge

Oh   so they weren’t killed

Gosh   dude came back to      A bunch of droids   laying   dead on the ground        Like;

“These.. aren’t. mine,”

Dude      is    having      a    tough     day

 Argh

 Not   good

Good

Lock down the   Perimeter

Good for   him

Whelp

Looks,     Better

Whelp

Watching

Yeah, those guys are dead from   grievous

He wacked  them with metal claws

Those     guys   don’t   have   a   single piercing mark on them

Nor     dented   helmet

Not ready to take on grievous

No one is

Dude has   robotic      arms

It’s time   we   retreated

Make sure to bring something to       restrain him   next time

Whelp

Grievous isn’t doing anything

Good     for him

“ You are    not going anywhere,”

Well, he tried

He WAS   just given          An ultimatum   from his boss

Gotta       stop    caring     about     those      things

“ Guess    we’ll have to fight       after all,”

 Or       blow open the                                door

Or   sizzle     it     open     with   your   light   sticks

 Lots     of   options

Bring      scout

Aight

Whelp     those guys are dead

Also   how did they even find   them?

Okay, that one makes sense because he was parked literally 5 feet from the base

  Fair   Game

Get out of there R6

Good for him

Whelp

That one   guy...

Whelp...

Yet

Good     for     him

 Of

R6

You told him to   leave

Dick

You surprise attack him

Call hypocrite, fair fight

Aaw, he’s   nice

Fair

Whelp

 Shit

Straight to the point

Doom       Man      -sion

Here        we     come

Whelp

Dude with the force       can’t lift one guy

Well 

General

Dude one trap   and you’re ready to call it quits

Lame

We’ve seen the lower levels of your home

No you haven’t

You were on ground level

And you only just saw anything below that   now

“ we’re not impressed,”

Dude speak for   yourself

Also,    fun

 Good     way       to        heal

   “Good, Good, Jedi,”

   This should be entertaining

        - way to heal-

   “You shall provide    sport for me,”

Like;           That

  Whelp

   Good        time            to       entertain          our        guests

        He’s             a           good            host

      Whelp

      Dude          has            a         dinosaur

       And       bots

     Dude         level       spiked          for           a          moment

    Hmm

    Nice

    Oof

    That       sounds     painful

   Armor       Patches

  “Contrary to your belief     I have other things to do,”

       Good              for            him

 He rans    a med channel

 “ go see to it my   repair,”

   Implaments            (?)

*Impale     Ments

   There may be   some discomfort

  But I’m pretty sure   he was already uncomfortable

   Argh

No sedatives

Off

Weak       link

Whelp

Surprised     his  pistol    did anything

Like seriously   even the swords would take   a few   whacks

There we go stabbing it with a sword

Your   knight   instinct

Whelp

And that clown just became the damsel

Whelp

Whelp

Fail

Guess     he’s   dead

 Or   broke     something

Splat noises   are kind of   humorous

So it could just be a   broken   nose

Great

Whelp

Instinct

Grievous is going to pay for this

Dude he made a humorous   “Splat” sound

“Splat”  is not       a     death   sound

   It      is      a     broken     nose   sound

“Destroy      him,”

I understand your pain

No, this is the time to take the kid away from the   bad situation

(Or actually give him the        don’t kill things talk)

   That’s the better option

   (Since he is still an adult and         can make his decision)

“ but you forget your teachings   Nadar,”

Not like that

  That is how you get       hit in the face

But in this war   strength prevails

 He literally   does have a point

  You two survived because of     “superior genetics”

You’ve literally been   hustling him since day one

And revenge is fine   in terms of accountability

 If someone stabs you,      You’re allowed to stab    him back

   Abusers?        Get their        abuse        back

Specifically in Murder

 The dead      isn’t alive     to take revenge

 And while he is right       that accountability is better

  That murder doesn’t   equal murder

   Because of         the belief          That all (human)         Sentient life          Inherently makes       the world better        By the possibility of them        contributing good

    Which is why         I advocate        accountability

     The way         dude is handling it          is shitty

      Firstly; all those present to the body are considered   enablers, if   they      enable     murder

And   everyone     who     sees      the     body       has       to        be          on       high      alert

  And   accountability      on     sight

 Because        if       you     five rules           A       Murder         -er...

  Point being dude should.     shut the fuck up and     help him find this dude

   The rules have changed

  Yes, yes they have

“ perhaps you are the one that has changed,”

  Shut up toxic

     Dick

    Enabling selfish dick

 “ come now,”

   He realized he fucked up

 “ We   need to move    now,”

  There’s         no     saving      that

  Whelp

  Skipped       past       that

   Looks      better

   “Gor,”

    He      named          it

    Oh

   Where       are      they

 Yeah wait what happened with the   doors?

 “Gor...”

 Aww       He     sounds     so    sad

Argh

Oof

That     pissed him off

Incoming     message from Count   Dooku

 Oh,       Good

 The Jedi have infiltrated your Lair

  Damn

 He   really   didn’t     tell     the     man   about   anything

Your   recent   defeats      at    their   hands

  Wow,         Dude can Literally not get a   break

   You just called him    five minutes     ago

 Fuck you

  He looks so       Tired

     And          Done

“Reassess      your    effectiveness,”

  Oh     that’s bound to piss him        off

 That you actively did   that

I’m expecting a face   Heel turn

 “You”

 There      we      go

  “ you   deactivated       my     Guards,”

    Oh....

[I assumed he just    forgot]

“ You let the Jedi      in,”

  No actually   they found a magic brick

  Unless Count Dooku  just so happen       to press    the button           at        the       same       time

Which      if so      nice

  Makes       dude’s overconfidence   even sweeter

“ so you would testing me,”

  Dick

 And he’s starting to look     It

  Oops

He’s pissed now

 Like I know this is     culminating in a fight scene

  But I would just love     if  just walked downstairs.        And was like     yes      I will go with you

 Out     of     Spite

“ i’ll play your little game,”

  In your condition you need your   rest

  I will rest when the Jedi     are dead

 Oh so that’s how they capture   him

 Maybe after he kills the   young one

Sentry

Those robots do     nothing

Whelp

Control      Room

 He’s         Done

Oh,        what do we have    here?

Oh,    this is what he does?

Master      the Jedi are about to enter the control room

  Snarky      little     shit

“Nadar,     get   inside,”

 Yeah,         No

Ahh

Nadar

Cutting       out      the    abuser

  Whelp

Absolutely       can       kick        ass

Surprised       no     one      who   understands   accountability

“Greetings     young      Jedi,”

 Greetings Boomer

“How       Ex       citing,”

   Neat

And   Meta

 Defeat       us       all

You’re one person   but I accept the understanding

  Get him     Master

Oh    he gets to see his apprentice die on the   big screen

Wait, where is the other   Jedi

Where-

Oh no

Self-awareness

 Oww

 But that wouldn’t kill a     determined

Whelp he accepted death

“No,”

Yep, he’d rather die than live in the world   you made

Enabler

(Technically;    Both of you)

 Welp I will kill you all

Do you hear me Jedi

Do you hear me

Fair   game

Enablers       kill   enablers

  No     one   wins

“ R6      is that you?”

How?!

Meet me at the   south landing   platform

I’m coming for you next   Fisto

Whelp, i’ll be   gone by the time you get here

Dick

Whelp

R6, I’m at the platform

Going     somewhere

How?!

But   also OK

Whelp

Hmm

Fan Technique should actually help in the   fog

Whelp

Pawn In Dooku’s game

That power will only   consume you

Like you

Flaunting it

Right now

Unless his battery   gives out...

Whelp

Ok

 Cheating

How   quickly   power      can   switch     hands

  Whelp  Enabled

 Expect      ed

Accom     plishment

 So   there’s   room   improvement

 Oof

“His heart was in the right place,”

  Not      accountability

“ to answer power         with power                 It’s not the Jedi   way,”

      HAHAHaHa

    What’s the title of this     again?

  Star         WARS      The        Clone           WARS

It takes   two to tango

  Feckin hypocrites

  In this WAR

 HAHAha

“ A danger there Is,”

I feel bad    for the   voice actor   that had to say that   with a   straight face

Nailed it   perfectly well

“Oof losing who we are,”

Oh, that scene

 Chills.

  Oh

                I REALLY liked this episode

It was funny   self-aware   and even   had some good moments with the villains

 Also

   They killed a           motherfucking dragon

      *Named              Gore

      * excuse          language

[peterthepark]

crush culture - [three]

come on, take my hand

pairing: steve harrington x reader (university & modern au)

summary: ice skating and late night endeavors always lead to something good. especially when steve likes holding your hand.

warnings: fluff, uses of social media, strong language, cuteness overload

A/N: chapter was inspired by dumb stuff by LANY! check them out! such a good band <3

series masterlist

You chuckle brightly as your phone lights up for the third time in a row, buzzing softly with a notification from Steve. Shoving a spoonful of Chinese take-out into your mouth, you type back, blissfully unaware of the mischievous looks that your roommates give you.

He’s been texting you for weeks - whether it be to check in on you, or ask about your day, or to share new music with you. Steve truly meant it when he had said that he enjoyed your company. You didn’t mind the sudden companionship between the two of you, becoming closer to Steve couldn’t make you any happier. But you did wonder if he felt the same way, based on his flirtatious innuendos and his cheeky comments.

What if you were simply trying to see what you wanted to: that he liked you back?

“When we said text Steve, we didn’t mean text Steve.” Kate smirks, twisting her fork into the chow-mein. “You guys have been at it nonstop, huh?”

You shrug, locking your phone. “He’s just being friendly.” Robin huffs loudly, groaning as she leans back against the chair. “I don’t wanna jump to conclusions, Ro. And I really don’t wanna rush into things, either. We don’t need another Jake situation.”

“God, I forget about that asshole.” She laughs bitterly, fists clenching at the mention of his name. “Piece of shit.”

Kate continues making conversation, talking amongst herself with Robin as you return to the messages on your phone.

what are u doing todayyy?

nothing rlly, gonna relax my ass off since it’s already break 🎄

You bite down on your thumb, before continuing to type away.

what about you?

The grey ellipse appears on the screen, bouncing as Steve begins to reply - only for it to disappear shortly thereafter, where you found yourself left on read. You frowned, hoping that you hadn’t lost his interest. Giving him a couple of minutes, you slip your phone away, dragging your feet to the front door to grab the mail as you thought of worst case scenarios.

You pull open the mailbox, sticking your hand inside to grab the pile of white envelopes and coupons from the local market. Shifting through the papers, you take notice of a few important letters, eyebrows raised when you see one sent from London. A breeze brushes past your calves, and you turn in surprise to the sound of a small, chiming bell. Pedaling in circles around you, Steve plants his foot on the concrete, pulling the red bike to a stop.

“Hey!” You laugh heartily, putting the stack of mail under your arm.

Steve grabs the drink carrier in the basket of his bike, handing you a hot cup of coffee with a shy grin. He sports a grey beanie, and little wings of his hair pop out from beneath the fabric.

Adorable.

“I just wanted to repay you for that last time.” He remarks, “If I remembered correctly, it’s your favorite.”

“Thank you, Steve.” Your fingers brush against his as you generously accept the cup, ignoring the nervous tremble in your voice. “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s alright. Better now. Thanks to you.” His head charmingly bobs to the side. Dipping your heads, you both blush with bashful smiles. “But I, uh, just finished my newspaper route around the neighborhood. And I’m headin’ back to my place.”

“Yeah? Maybe we could hang out today or something?” You shrug in suggestion, unsure of your words. “If you’re not busy.”

Steve smiles faintly before he nods his head in agreement. He tries to seem as calm as possible towards your question, but internally, he was truly exploding with butterflies. Has a girl ever made him feel this way after such a long time? It had been years since he genuinely felt the fantastical flutter in his stomach. And most importantly, it had been years since he oh-so-badly wanted to purse a girl as much as he wanted to pursue you. The littlest things that you’d do would send him into a captivated trance - like the way you’d let the sleeves of your sweater hang over your palms, cupping themselves around the heat of your coffee.

He was crushing on you.

A sliver of him didn’t sit well with the feeling. He’s always had a bit of trust issues with girls, especially after his past three ex-girlfriends. He forgot how crushes made him feel starry-eyed and lively, like he was on top of the whole world.

But who’s to say he wasn’t complaining about said crush? He likes you. End of story. Did he want to be something more? Maybe. If you’d let him.

More like if he’d let himself.

“Do you wanna come inside for a little?” You point at your apartment, swaying gently.

He hums undecidedly, as if he were making a tough decision. “Is it okay with your roommates?”

Robin and Kate lose their minds as soon as Steve walks through the door. Of course, they try to seem as subtle as possible with their excitement - not wanting to reveal the fact that you had feelings for Steve - but clearly, they were doing a terrible job in doing so. Kate would roughly nudge you in his direction, while Robin would wiggle her eyebrows at him. When Steve would have his back turned to them, they’d pretend to make-out in a comically exaggerated way. Ever the support system.

You offer him a combination of breakfast-lunch-and-dinner, sliding over a plate of the take-out from earlier. Steve rejects out of courtesy, but you respectfully insist, which causes him to, in the end, accept the food (mainly because he was unable to resist the pout on your face, and who wouldn’t say no to good ol’ Chinese food?) You sit and talk together at the dining table - him munching on Mongolian beef while you take careful sips from the latte he’d given you. Robin and Kate would butt into your conversation a few times, mostly to get to know Steve, asking him questions that you’d think only your family would ask.

Eventually, you retreat to your bedroom, cockily challenging him to a game of Mario Kart. You sit against your headboard, thumbs mashing the triggers as you speed past Steve.

“I’m telling you, Harrington. You can never win against me.” You giggle at him, pointing at the screen with your controller as you victoriously cross the finish line.

“You’re cheating!” He shouts, eyes wide with disbelief at how you managed to win again.

You turn to him, sending him a skeptical look. “There’s no cheating in Mario Kart! How could I possibly cheat?”

“Okay, fair. Then that means you must’ve hacked the game. There’s like no way. You’ve won like five times!”

Playfully, you toss your hair over your shoulder, finding amusement at the way he tries to stifle a laugh at your antics. “I’m just that good, Steve.”

In denial, Steve calls for another rematch, forcing you to pick a different character this time because he just doesn’t believe that you’re actually winning through Toad. Instead, you blindly pick Princess Peach, and Steve sticks with playing as the classic Mario. And to your downfall, you lose.

“Ha! I fucking knew it! Cheater!”

“Steve! I am not!”

“Yes! You won every damn time with Toad and now you’ve lost as Peach? Y/N, that’s some shady ass shit.” He gestures animatedly, wagging a finger at you.

“Uhuh. Go on. Go on. Bask in your victory. How many times have you won? Once?”

Cockily (and clearly fed up with your shit-talking), Steve asks for another match, this time, challenging you to a race around Rainbow Road. However, you lose again, causing Steve to win by one round.

“Hell yeah!” Rejoicing, he tosses the controller onto the bed. He throws his hands up, playing an imaginary trumpet with apparent joy that makes you smile.

“Oh, please. I let you win.”

“Nu-uh. I doubt it. You wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me.”

His voice drops to a whisper, tickling your ear as he leans closer into you. “I’m just that good.” You roll your eyes at his mocking tone, copying the words that you had said earlier with confidence.

“Keep telling yourself that. It’ll manifest someday.” You snort, pushing his shoulder. “Okay, so does the loser still get punishment?”

“I’m a man of my word.” He winks at you. “This isn’t necessarily a punishment though.”

“Oh?”

His chest rumbles as he chuckles, “More of an - an invitation that you can’t say no to.”

He couldn’t possibly...

“There’s this holiday ice skating thing downtown.” He starts, fiddling with the loose thread at the end of his sweater as he raises his head to meet your dumbfounded stare. “Come with me, Y/N?”

Was he asking you on a date?

Speechless, you stutter, cheeks heating up with sudden shyness. “Of course. I mean, I can’t say no, right?”

You exchange laughter, legs brushing up against each other as you scoot further up the bed.

“But do you want to say no?”

His eyes flicker up to meet your gaze. His brown eyes are intense, swirling with curiosity and anticipation as he awaits your response. With the hand furthest from your view, he crosses his pointer and middle finger over each other, silently sending a prayer to the universe that you’d say something that wouldn’t break his poor heart.

“Steve,” You shake your head. “I’d say yes even if I did have a choice.” He bites down on his bottom lip, feeling his heart pound from your words. “So, tonight?”

“Tonight. I’ll pick you up.” His arm brushes up against yours, and you suddenly become dizzy with all the emotions you were experiencing. “Sounds alright?”

“Sounds perfect, actually.”

-

Sighing, you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fingers playing with the loose strands of hair that wouldn’t stay in place. You readjust the earmuffs on your head, patting them down with a growing smile. From outside, you hear the soft ring of the doorbell echo through the hallways. With one final outfit-check, you slip your backpack over your shoulders then pick at your bubble jacket for any ugly stains or threads.

“Y/N! Steve is here!” You puff out your cheeks at Robin’s shout, giving yourself a brief pep talk before you’re barreling towards the front door. Robin grins proudly at you, placing her hands on your shoulders with a content look. “Don’t make an idiot out of yourself.”

You chuckle, placing your hands over hers. “Thanks. I’ll be sure not to.” She pulls you into a hug, whispering in your ear to call her if anything goes wrong. Turning the knob of the door, you’re met with Steve on your doorstep.

He smiles widely when he raises his head, face softening when he sees how cozy you look. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You shut the door behind you.

“Y-You ready to go?” He gestures at the motorcycle parked on your street - red and white, and all Steve Harrington.

“We’re going on that?” Realizing how rude that must’ve sounded, you continue. “I... motorcycles are just - they - I’ve never been on one, so...”

“There’s a first time for everything.” He laughs, scratching his jaw. Noticing your uneasy expression, he reaches out to touch your forearm. “Hey... you’ll be fine. You’ll love it.”

You sit behind Steve, calming yourself down as he starts up the bike. Wordlessly, he hands you his helmet.

“Are you sure? What about you?”

He shrugs, “Take it. Want you to be safe.” You place the helmet over your head, shivering from the cold. “You gonna hold on now or what?”

“Huh?” Steve takes your hands in his, placing them over his stomach so that your arms wrap tightly around his waist. “Oh, right. Yeah. Of course.”

Your breathing halts for a minute as he revs the engine, before he’s pulling into the street carefully. You squeak as he drives faster, whizzing past cars and stuck taxis. The chilly wind blows through your hair, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your throat. Steve feels his heart grow at the sound, glancing back at you when the stoplight turns red.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Pretty. No word in the world could describe you. But perfect seemed like a close one.

Steve helps you off the motorcycle, holding your hand as you hop down. The ice rink is filled with people, while Christmas music plays faintly over the speakers by the bleachers. He doesn’t let go of your hand; neither of you utter a word about it as you walk over to the rental skates. The only time he pulls away is when he puts his ice skates on, tugging on the laces expertly before he offers to fix yours. You don’t reject, laughing at the mess of strings you had accidentally created. His hand finds its place with yours when you head into the rink, holding onto the sides for support as you both get yourselves accustomed to the slippery ice.

Soon, you and Steve start to race each other around, nearly bumping into strangers as you glide past him. He grasps your hand before you can escape, which causes you to fall back into his chest from the sudden action. Steve instantly catches you, holding you by your hips before you can plummet to the hard, cold ground.

“Easy there, tiger.” He laughs against your skin, cold breath nipping at your neck. You blush, finding your footing once more. You spin around to face him, eyes trailing over the snowflakes that line the ridges of his beanie. “Did I tell you how, um, how cute you look... tonight?”

“Steve...”

“I mean, you look cute everyday but the whole...” He points at his ears. “...the whole earmuff thing brought out the - your - your cuteness.”

Just as flustered as you, he leans beside you against the rink’s fence, blinking up at the stars. You look over to him; you count the freckles on his jaw and the way the corner of his mouth turns up into a shy smile when he catches your eye. You dig the bladed toe of your skate into the ice, planting yourself in place as Steve slowly angles his body towards you. His hand comes to rest behind you, then his face is merely inches from yours. You hold your breath. Steve’s gaze flickers down to your lips, and the bridge of his nose gently grazes against yours. His head lowers while he parts his lips and closes his eyes.

He’s going to kiss you.

Until your phone buzzes loudly, and you groan in irritation. Steve’s face falls, and he tears his longing stare away from your lips when you step back to answer it.

Fucking hell.

“Hello?” Your voice is weak, raspy as if Steve had already kissed the life out of you - which he didn’t. Because you just got interrupted. “Kate? Yeah. What do you mean I... oh, fuck. You guys aren’t at home anymore? Fuck. Yeah, okay. Thanks. No, I’ll figure it out. It’s fine. I swear. Alright, bye.”

“Everything okay?” Steve sounds disappointed, but also worried, based on the tone of your voice.

“I left my freaking keys back at the apartment.” You laugh bitterly, cursing under your breath. “Kate and Robin had to go to Levi’s for something urgent and they won’t be back till like later-later.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“Then come back to my place.”

What? Your jaw falls open at his words, and you rub your eyes to make sure that you aren’t dreaming.

“Are you sure? I could always find someone else and-“

“No, no. It’s okay. Plus, I live really close. It’s not a big deal for me or Jonathan.”

You and Steve linger around the rink for a few more hours. The tension between the two of you is clear - the accidental touches and accidental, nervous eye contact. Once the rink starts to clear up, you both decide to go home (or well, to Steve’s place).

-

His lofty two-story apartment is the same as it was during the party, only this time, silence fills the emptied space. You toss your shoes in the corner by the door, wincing when it echoes loudly throughout the living room. Steve pads out of the hallway, handing you a warm set of clothes.

“Steve, this is a lot. I’m only staying for tonight. I can sleep in these.” You huff, shrugging your jacket off and hanging it over the couch.

He shakes his head, smiling at you. “Here, it’s just a nice gesture from me to you. I’m insisting.” You hesitantly take the folded pile of clothing from him, holding it to your chest as he directs you to the bathroom.

Out of your cold and icy clothes, you tug down the long sleeves of Steve’s thermo, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla. Then, you move towards Steve’s bedroom, knocking softly at his door. You hear a brief ‘yeah!’ from the inside, and you poke your head through the crack between the doorway.

“I’m gonna go sleep now...” You nod your head over to the couch by the TV. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“No problem. You’ll be fine back there?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Steve sits on the edge of his bed, playing with his hands as he blinks at you. “G’night.”

You retreat towards the couch, plopping onto the leather cushions with a grunt. You lay the plaid blanket over your legs and curl up into the bundle of pillows. Burying your hands between your thighs for warmth, you shut your eyes, hoping that sleep would find its way soon.

It doesn’t. Tossing and turning don’t help at all - neither does the stiffness of the couch. You try your best to fall asleep, whether it be browsing on your phone or turning on the TV, nothing brings you there.

You knew you were making a bad decision once you had gotten up, letting the blanket trail behind you like a train as you quietly tiptoe into the hallway that led into Steve’s room. You screw your eyes shut when your hand reaches out to turn the knob, which makes the door creak slowly when you push it open.

The hall light peeks into Steve’s dark room, causing him to turn onto his back when he sees your figure. “Y/N...?”

“Hey, um... I can’t really - really sleep, so I was...” You clear your throat, hoping your voice would stop trembling already. “I was wondering if I could... stay with you? If that’s okay. With you. Maybe.”

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders, searching Steve’s sleepy face for a reaction. He mumbles something inaudible, before he pulls the comforter back and outstretches a large hand towards you.

“C’mere, beautiful.” He whispers as you crawl onto the bed, tucking your feet beneath his white sheets. He flips onto his other side, facing you with a tired smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He laughs into the pillow, while you innocently bat your eyelashes up at him. You find his hand under the covers, your pinky finger latches onto his, and you bite back the hazy grin on your face.

“Y/N?” Steve murmurs, a curl falling against his forehead.

You place your free hand on his arm. “Shhh...”

“Can I... can I...”

You force yourself to stay awake, listening to him stutter endlessly. With half-lidded eyes, you meet Steve’s admirable stare. Then, his hand leaves your pinky, trailing up your side until he stops at the nape of your neck. The bed shifts as he rolls closer towards you.

You gasp lightly when he kisses your forehead. Then the tip of your nose. Then your left cheek. Your right. And finally, he halts for a moment. His thumb swipes across your jaw, and you feel your eyes slowly, slowly, slowly close. Your eyebrows furrow in thought when Steve continues tracing letters on your jaw.

His finger follows the curve of the eight letter until the pad of his thumb lands on your bottom lip.

He spells out the words: I like you.

Steve tilts his head, and you squeeze his hip to let him know that it’s okay. A euphoric feeling washes over your chest when his lips press against yours. They’re soft - a little chapped from the cold - but it doesn’t faze you. He tastes of pumpkin spice, and you lean further into him for more. Laughs bubble from the two of you when you accidentally elbow his cheek, but return into the kiss once more.

He lets his lips hover over yours for one moment, then he places a chaste peck on them before he’s pulling back. He doesn’t want to. But he did need oxygen.

Yet, who needs oxygen when a person makes you feel like they can provide you all the possible air in the universe?

Steve smiles again when he recognizes the relaxed expression on your face. He pushes your hair away from your face, and then, he’s drifting off to sleep as well.

You take his breath away.

And at the same time, you’re the fresh air in his lungs.

-

TAGLIST

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