#should i post this on ao3?

[bodythieves]

shane mccutcheon x you | cw: intox!makeout, slight fingering?, dirty talk-ish | stoner!shane, neighbor!shane, anxious!reader (is that how i label this shit?)

THIS IS RLY LONG!

okay, okay. let's be honest here: you are not one for change. you are not one to break out of your routine, one to sway from your typical path. no, rather, you are steadfast in every moment of your day, to an absolute t. some of your friends like to tease you until your skin feels hot, and you look down at your feet. you have a google calendar (your lord and savior) and a prescription for an unnamed anxiety medication that you'd-rather-not-talk-about.

and shane. oh, god, shane mccutcheon. shane was your neighbor in a shitty LA apartment, a hairstylist/absolute fucking menace. every other day, she's sitting on the stoop, feet flat on the ground and elbows on her knees, a cigarette dangled between her lips. she'd smile, check you out- go to say something. but you- being you, of course- would quickly swing open the and duck inside.

today was particularly awful for you, though. your therapist had broken up with you. he was moving to a new practice, they didn't accept your insurance, and you had just gotten so comfortable. remember how we made it known that you weren't great with change? the smallest thing could make you itch. make you feel as if you had lost everything, like it all was over. so, understandably, you were having a meltdown inwardly that you couldn't let out until you reached the sanctuary of your one bedroom apartment and closed that manager's-special, white door. except you wouldn't be doing that, no. not now. because you felt your face betray you as you neared the pathway that led to the glass vestibule of the apartment complex. there she was.

"oh, look," she snorts softly through her nostrils, her lips quirking up into a smile upon seeing your own (even if it was microscopic). she had just sat down to smoke as you neared, her lithe frame hunched over as she picked through a paper cigarette pack. "didn't know you were able to do that." tracking shane's movements, your eyes followed the brunette as her slender fingers plucked out a cigarette, and brought it to that smug grin.

"I've smiled at you before." you said this far quicker than you would've liked to. quick enough that shane could tell you were already nervous. your paces brought you to the cement set of steps before the vestibule, the glass reflecting a soft glare from the setting LA sun. as you came closer, you let your gaze drift over her. shaggy brown hair, a charming disposition- definitely was trying to make you laugh. you cleared your throat, then looked back at Shane's cigarette before she lit it. "do you.. care if i bum one of those?"

um, who the fuck is that? why are you asking for a cigarette right now? oh, that’s right. you were being you when faced with uncomfortable amounts of difference in your typical day-to-day life. your therapist dumped you, your job is mundane, your family is incessantly nagging you, your anxiety is never-

“oh?” shane perked up, the filter of her cigarette now between her teeth as she smiled, rather than her lips. dark green eyes sparkled playfully, but her brows pushed up in an attempt to feign sympathy. she could tell you were feeling off today. after all, you were speaking. “yeah, sure, of course,” she said, fingering open the back with her thumb and taking a look. something about shane’s voice sounded so teasing. as if she wanted to sound like she’d take care of you, like she was worried. her left hand moved up to pull the cigarette from her teeth and her tongue darted out to wet the corner of her lip. A small tsk could be heard from her. “mm.. I only got my lucky left. you don’t care to share, do you?”

you were gonna faint. you were gonna fall over, die, cream your fucking pants. yeah, of course, you thought shane was hot before. why else would you avoid her every time she tried to holler at you? you couldn’t handle that. like we established earlier- you’re a hazard when your schedule is disturbed. but now? right here, standing just a couple feet away from a shane, engaging in conversation, breaking your perfectly time-alotted pattern? the thing that kept you distracted from all the shit of your daily experience? you’d never seen anything hotter.

you felt your body begin moving against your will, sitting down beside shane without missing a beat. your feet became brutus, your mind julius, crying why! you too?! you’re betraying me! as you turn and allow the backs of your sneakers to hit the cement step, lowering yourself down. part of it was definitely to show yourself off to shane. at least a little bit. if you were going to deter from your repetitive habits, why not be a little risky? flirt a little? on the other, you just needed to know that another person was real. what better proof is proximity? “yeah, that’s cool,” your voice is quiet as you take in the sight of shane so close and in such pretty light, your nerves absolutely eating at you.

her lighter was lime green and struggled to spark at first. instinctively, you reach out. you cup your hand around the lighter and use your fingers to hide shane’s cigarette. smoke curls from her nose and she pulls her face away, pinching her brows together as the cigarette began to spark. nodding a silent thank you for your assistance. hush sounds of burning paper, then a cloud of smoke, exhaled through the woman’s nose- you begin to forget. why had you never really spoken to her before? why do you avoid interaction like this?

“well,” shane mumbled from the butt of the cigarette, more smoke leaving her nose. “you have a pretty smile.”

you and shane sit in a friendly silence for a moment, but it’s quickly changing. you can feel that shane is checking you out. of course she is- you’re insanely cute. with high features that are just soft enough, making you so easily approachable. if only you weren’t an anxiety attack on legs! taking a glance at her, you can feel your heart pick up motion in your chest, thrumming inside of your work uniform. shane puts her fingers to her lips and pulls the cigarette away with her thumb and forefinger.

“you smoke weed?” you asked her, raising your eyebrow. your fingers moved, taking the cigarette between your own thumb and finger.

“uh,” she said, starting to let out a chuckle. “i mean, yeah. why?”

“you hold it like you’re smoking a joint.”

“hm,” shane smirked a little, letting you take the cigarette from between her fingers. “do you smoke?”

you shrug a little, taking a slow pull from the dart of tobacco, letting the thick smoke hit your throat and sit for a second. it had been a long time since you’d had one, and it always felt so right when you needed it. “sometimes,” you said, still holding your drag in your throat. “gives me bad anxiety on occasion. try to steer away from it.”

“damn,” shane’s green eyes rake over the side of your face, taking in your features as you blew out a faint stream of smoke. “you think this could be one of your sometimes?”

you pass the cigarette back, turning your head slightly to the left so you can look at shane. a sheepish expression crosses your lips and you mull over the thought. but only for a minute.

“yeah. honestly, i could probably use it.” what was a little more change? what was a little more anxiety? at this point, neither could push you any further than you already were. your response to shane’s question caused the brunette to smirk around the filter of the cigarette, and she nodded as she exhaled. you two sat for a few minutes after, sharing the smoke. there weren’t really any words spoken, but the lack of conversation was made up for in exchanged glances. you took a final drag of the cigarette, then dropped it on the ground and used the toe of your shoe to step it out.

simultaneously, you and shane stood on your feet from the stoop of the apartment complex. you looked her over- taking in her tall and dangly frame, hidden beneath a dark gray zip up and loose jeans, hanging from her hips. her shaggy hair was flippy and chopped, a small blonde tuft in the back. she was.. god, she was actually so cute. you looked away for a second, remembering that you were about to join her. upstairs. in her apartment. and smoke weed. with hot cheeks, you turned on your sneaker and moved on to the cement steps, pacing towards the glass door and slipping your key inside. shane’s presence was looming. literally. you felt her come up behind you and grab ahold of the metal frame just above your head, pulling it open wider so you could get in.

christ, you thought. you were betraying everything you knew: routine, mundanity, consistency. to go hang out with your neighbor who brought home new girls every other night, who smoked out the whole complex, who always smiled at you when she saw you. fuck, fuck, fuck- sneakers, both yours and shane’s, lightly thudded on the linoleum steps of the apartment hallway, bouncing off walls. jeez, focus long enough, you were certain you could hear your heartbeat echo back to you. oh, god, oh, god, oh, god- you stand behind shane, she leads you into her apartment. messy, disorganized, totally not you. you are well kept, you are neat, you are- totally about to jump this woman’s bones. you realize this as Shane sits down on her futon, legs spread wide, her lap just begging for you to come sit on it. oh, god. fuck. oh, god, oh-

“fuck,” you breathed out. you’d had to have been holding that in forever, lungs burning and eyes clenched tight. your head fell back on to the arm of shane’s futon and you could’ve sworn that this was all just a dream. that joint was either insanely strong, or you were losing time because of your previously high levels of anxiety and tension. ‘relax’- she had whispered to you, just before this heated session- ‘let me take care of you. i know what i’m doing, swear. only if you want me to.’ of course you wanted to. to deny that would be an absolute lie.

you feel shane’s breath fan against your neck, the sensation warm and all-consuming. her nose pushing against your jaw and nestling below your ear, soft lips brushing along your skin, ringed fingers slipped up your shirt and ghosted her fingers over your naval, teasing gently at a metal piercing that lay in the skin. her smile could be felt against your neck and she reared back, leaning on to the heels of her feet with a playful grin. her eyes sparkled and she pulled the hem of your shirt up with her right hand, then moved her left from the back of the futon. that hand made its sneaky way to your thigh, pushing your knee into the futon’s black fabric.

“that’s cute.”

“yeah?”

“oh, for sure. you.. got another one?”

“no,” you murmur shakily. you suddenly wished you had more. wished you’d succumbed to those thoughts of impulsivity that rushed through your brain when your spiraled out of control. you thought, for a moment, it would’ve made you more attractive. but… it seemed like shane didn’t mind it. she dropped your shirt and brought that right hand to her mouth, running her thumb and forefinger over her chin. her left then took hold of your black slacks, the uniform for your job, her forefinger hooking into a belt loop.

“that’s okay,” she said, looking at you through her lashes, letting her hand fall as she spoke. “you’d look really good with some more.”

you can’t do this any longer you are losing grip now. you shift your hips desperately, the futon squeaking annoyingly beneath you, but you brush it off. your nerves are shot, you’re insanely horny, you need to get this shit out of your system. “shane,” you mumble lowly, trying to get her attention. you succeed.

but first, she cracks that teeth-rotting smile. the one just sweet enough to make your mouth hurt, and sexy enough to make you sick. then, she does it. she leans in again, and you are full on making out. no longer just slowly kissing, clouded in a smoky haze, kisses tasting of resin and cigarettes. her lips are so soft, her fingers nimble and dexterous as they cup the small of your back. she pulls you. up, into a sitting position, and wraps her palm around the nape of your neck to hold you there. the hand that had pulled you shifted once more as shane lay back on to the futon, and you went right with her. she was handling you. not forcibly, no, but gently, enough to just guide you.

and seeking a safety net in your crumbling control, you let her. you slid into position, right in shane’s lap like you’d wanted to be in the first place. perfect. hanging your head low, you pushed down against your neighbor’s lap and felt yourself rush with a specific heat you only experienced when you knew you weren’t supposed to be doing something. foreheads pushed together, lips a breath apart, you closed the gap. your hands brace the sides of shane’s head and your knuckles nearly turn white from how hard you grasp on to the wooden frame.

shane’s kiss is absolutely filthy. she’s licking, drawing your mouth open as if it were a profound cavern she was in dire need to explore, pulling air from your lungs. you aren’t sure how you’re still feeling at this point, but a trace of shane’s touch runs down across your belly button piercing again and pulls at the button of your slacks. expertly, her lips never once stop moving as the plastic black button pops and she teases down your zipper.

you. oh, you have never been so hungry. you were starving. fuck schedules. fuck routine, to hell with repetition. what was it for anyway? to be comfortable? being comfortable never brought you into situations like this. without thinking, one of your hand relents from the frame and rushes to grab shane’s hand, pushing at her wrist so her fingers would cup just above your underwear, palm right over your pubis. you hadn’t shaved in awhile. though you were tidy, you hadn’t had any in awhile. shane liked it though. you could tell based on how she smiles against your mouth.

words no longer suffice. you clench violently around nothing, your need so heavy that you feel your pulse in the depths of your center. shane pulls away only for a moment to gaze into your eyes as she pulls the fabric of your slacks just slightly past your hips. enough to where she can push your underwear to the side and tuck her fingers against your warm skin, and enough to watch you react.

“you..” shane nearly moans out the word. “you’re.. stupid wet right now.” her brows turn up and she parts her lips, leaning forward on to futon so she could be closer to you. her fingers moved. and you’d never felt something so good. silver rings, soft fingertips, hands that knew what they were doing. you shuddered and jerked, nearly squealing as she ran her thumb over your clit. she looked like she was about to worship you. like she was ready to pray to you. she was so adorable, somehow.

“yeah,” there’s hardly anything but desire behind your voice now. “yeah, i.. i told you-“ you grunt and jerk your hips.

just as Shane’s fingers begin to move in circles, your eyes flutter shut and you begin rocking your hips.

“i needed that joint.”

shane hums out a low chuckle and nods her head. her thumb leaves your clit for only a moment. brushing south and rubbing along your entrance, she eases the truth from your lips.

“i hoped it would end with this, too.” you tone was airy, so overwhelmed with need that you could hardly hear yourself speak.

and just like that, how the truth did set you free. shane’s lips met yours and she kissed you so slowly. lips locked passionately, as if she were thirsty and the only refreshing thing was your kiss. her fingers moved back to your clit, stroking and pushing in motions that rounded your hood with horrifying ease. this was too good. this was great. this was perfect.

you were never going to stick to routine ever again.

notes: okay that’s it im done Im so sorry to lead up so much to barely anything at all but. BUT I GOT NERVOUS. ANYWAY HERE’S THIS IM TAGGING @thestarkillers bc ik they love shane the way i do and this is for them ok bai ALSO i wrote the second half of this drunk. enjoy!

[deliasmoothie]

Underneath the Stardust

Samebody!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Waiter/tress!Reader

Basically you work as a server/waiter/waitress at this cheap 'Stardust Motel' (Totally inspired by this post) which is located in a small town where more people have been going missing as of late and how you slowly discover the truth behind it while a certain animatronic toys around with you.

I personally don't think any content warning is needed for this chapter, unless anyone notices one?

I guess just take into account that Sun & Moon are a bit.. sassy? rough? (a tiny bit inspired by the HW2 DCA) but I hope you guys do realize the small actions they do which shows that they do care for the reader! They're just a bit... funny about it ibasbakisubhiusabg

| Words: 2,246 | Chapters: 1/?

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Another day to go to work at your horrendous job. You really had no choice. You were kicked out of your last job and evicted from your cheap apartment. This was the only place in this godforsaken town that had a job opening that accepted you.

As for your new home, your friend Michael was kind enough to let you move in with him. You appreciate that a lot from him, and to be honest… you might like him just a teensy bit? But even you're not so sure if you have a crush on him or if you just like how kind he's been to you during this whole mess. It's not a feeling you've been able to process or have been wanting to, actually.

You're busier trying to relieve the debts you have and making your life stable.

With that thought, you sigh as you finally reach your job at the oh-so-marvelous 'Stardust Motel'. Good thing the work is within walking distance from Michael's house because you do NOT have the money to afford gas, much less a car.

Michael always suggests accompanying you ever since the cases of missing people have increased around town lately, but you insist that you can take care of yourself. Deep down, you just don't want to be more of a burden to him than you already feel you are.

Here you work a double shift. One from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. and the next starting from 5 p.m. and ending at 1 a.m. At this point, the motel feels like your second home. You do have breaks, and luckily, there isn't much going on around in this small town. but it's still exhausting nonetheless.

Your job is being a server for the small restaurant right next to but connected with the motel. However, since there isn't much activity, they also have you work as a housekeeper and do some small maintenance here and there. This place sucks, but alas, it's the only one that would accept someone as lowly as you.

"You're late." Bob begrudgingly tells you. He's the only chef of the restaurant and the second boss.

You look down at your phone and see that it is 5:05 p.m. You slump down and put your phone away in your pocket as you approach the kitchen.

"Sorry, Bob, I'll make sure to arrive at exactly 5:00 p.m. next time."

"It'd be better if you arrived 15 minutes earlier than that."

Another deep breath in and out. "Yes, Bob." As if they don't push you enough already. And as you're about to put on your apron, Bob interrupts you,

"Say, a light bulb burned out; go fix it. Second floor, at the very end."

Geez, not even a please? "I'll go fix it."

And so you walk out through the door on the side that leads to the motel. There, you are greeted by the receptionist.

"Bad day, huh?" Vanessa asks while typing something on her computer. "When isn't it a bad day for you~?" she teases but you're not really in the mood for any of this.

You bury your hands in your face with a groan. "Bob told me to go fix the light bulb." Your voice sounds muffled as your face is still hidden by your palms.

"Well you better hurry. The sun is about to go down." She points at the light bulb on top of the desk and continues working.

Your hands twitch slightly from her last sentence.

"Sun…"

Oh yeah, the housekeeper and guard of the motel. He's an animatronic who can be… How should you describe him? At times he's nice, and at others he can be a bit of a condescending jerk.

You shake your head. You take the light bulb from the desk and redirect yourself towards the stairs, walking towards the second floor where you head towards the very end, spotting the last light bulb hanging lifelessly.

As you approach, you look up and realize,

"Shoot… I forgot the ladder … AUGH!!" You groan loudly as you turn around to retrieve the goddamn ladder. When suddenly-

"BOO!"

"AH!"

"HAHAHA!" You hear that familiar laugh as you fall onto the ground, landing on your butt.

"SUN!" You yell out furiously. "Don't scare me like that! Do you want to give me a heart attack!?"

Sun's laugher slowly dies down to a mischievous smile and tilts his head. "Hmmm…" He hums in thought as he looks to the side.

"Don't think about it!" With that, you get up and shake off your pants from any dirt on the floor.

Once you're standing, you feel a hand lay on your head and pat you. "How has your evening been, friend?"

"Bad!" You cross your arms and pout as you look up at him.

"I didn't mean to scare you so badly!" He chuckles as he leans down to meet you face to face- maybe even just a bit too close. You plant a hand on his faceplate and push him back gently. "Too close, buddy."

He raises his hands and then looks behind you towards the light bulb. He points at it as you slightly turn your head to where he's pointing. "Did you really think you could reach that without a ladder?"

Your eye twitches; he just called you a shorty. It's not your fault he's insanely tall. "For your information! I simply forgot the ladder!"

"Surprise, surprise," he says with a taunting grin.

"How about you step aside and let me get the ladder?"

"No~" He replies, still holding his cheeky grin.

"Well then! I'll just go- aaAAAH!" As you were about to walk past him, he grabs you by the waist and starts to walk back towards the end of the hall, where the light bulb hangs.

"Sun! Let go!" you shout, and he does! He lets go right there and then, causing you to fall to your butt… Again!

"OW! BUT NOT LIKE THAT!" You rub your bum gently from the pain and get back up. Once you do, Sun puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around, and before you can process it, he's picking you up once more. But this time, you get it.

"Oh- you were going to be my ladder…" He rolls his eyes seemingly unimpressed that you only just now understood his intentions.

"Chop chop, friend~!" He exclaims behind you. You huff at him before you quickly replace the lightbulb.

"Done!"

Sun places you down and claps his hands. "Good job, friend, for doing allll the hard work around here~!" It seems like Sun isn't in a great mood today either because he's being bitchier than usual.

"What's got you in a bad mood today?" You place your hand on your hip as you question him.

"You see-" but before Sun can answer, you hear Vanessa shout your name from the first floor.

"Your friend is here!" she yells. "Michael!" you say enthusiastically as you rush downstairs. "Michael…" Sun says unenthusiastically as he rolls his eyes and sluggishly goes down the stairs.

You rush toward the front desk where you see your friend holding what appears to be… your lunchbox! "Did I forget it at home?!"

Michael chuckles at that and nods. "You did. But thankfully our home is near, so I brought it over for you."

"Surprise, surprise," Sun interrupts as he walks over to where you all are. "Our sunshine's forgetful like that, aren't they?" He crosses his arms and leans on the desk.

"You're lucky to have someone bring you lunch; I wish someone brought me lunch." Vanessa says as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Michael scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "It's just what… good friends do, no?" Aww, what a dear.

You take your lunchbox from his hands and give him a gentle smile as you whisper, "Thank you, Michael." You hear a slight scratch on the desk behind you screech.

"HEY! You jerk! Don't ruin my desk like that!" Vanessa shouts at Sun and slaps his hand away as he straightens up quickly.

"Sorry, Vanessa!" He pretends to let out a long yawn. "I was just getting bored out of my mechanical mind watching this poor scene play out!" He grips his hands together.

"Not my fault you're jealous that no one brings you lunch!" Sun's eye twitches at your remark, and with that, he leans toward you and gives you a death glare for a moment before snatching your lunchbox.

"My lunchbox! SUN! Give it back!" Sun ignores you with a laugh as he runs away. You run but stop to turn around and face Michael.

"Thank you for bringing it to me!" You give him a wave of your hand "I'll catch you later tonight!" Michael nods with a smile and gently waves back at you, and with that, you continue running forward.

"They're so oblivious" He whispers softly. "That goddamn bot scratched my desk-" Vanessa rambles as she checks the scratch marks Sun made and Michael simply lets out a nervous chuckle at Vanessa's remarks.

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You finally reach the basement where Sun ran into. You try switching the lights on, but no matter how many times you try, the basement stays dark.

You sigh as you reach into your pockets and take out your phone to use its flashlight.

"…Give me my lunchbox back, you menaces!" No reply, and after a few seconds, you feel a strand of your hair being slightly pulled.

You look up at the top of the shelf behind you and point your phone toward the one who did it. The one who stole your food.

"Moon." You huff at him "Get back down." You threaten.

He grins and slightly chuckles as he holds your lunchbox up with one hand and rests his face on the other.

"Magic word~?" he asks. "Now!" "Wrong answer." he replies menancingly.

Augh- He's really making you say it, isn't he? "…… Please?" you finally give in.

"I couldn't hear~ Louder." Goddammit.

"P-Please! Pretty please!" Sometimes you feel as if you're just a toy that they enjoy teasing and playing with. Much to your relief, Moon hops down onto the floor with a satisfied laugh.

He straightens up, but as he does, he picks you up with one arm.

"Let us feed you~" Pardon? "What? NO! No! Why?!" you struggle in his arm as you try to reach for his other hand, where he still holds your lunchbox. Curse his arms for being so long.

"Funny, funny~" he chuckles as he wiggles the lunchbox you're trying so hard to reach.

…. He finds this funny, huh? Will he find this amusing then?

You reach toward the back of his head, grab his nightcap, and pull it back as hard as you can. "!!!" His eyes open wide, he stumbles back from the harsh tug while you grin.

"Hahaha! Funny, funny~" you mock him, using his own words against him. He stabilizes himself and his smile only widens with ill intent.

He places your lunchbox on the shelf and inmediately tugs on your hair harshly, causing your head to lean back in his arms. "OW!"

So this is how he wants to play? You tug on his nightcap again. "HA!"

He responds by tugging your hair in return. "Naughty!" He growls but you retort by tugging on his lips. "You're naughtier!" He tugs on your lips back, "Is that so~?" He leans his face closer to yours-

"Get a room, you two." Vanessa interrupts as she manages to turn the lights on.

You feel Moon lower his hand, and his other arm tightens around you as he transforms back into Sun, a process that always appeared painful. But once it's done, Sun gently places you on the ground as he holds his head with one hand, seemingly in post-transformation pain.

"Vanessa , you could have warned us," Sun tells her begrudgingly.

"Next time, go to some other motel." She glances in your direction. "And you." You tilt your head. "Bob wants to know why you're taking so damn long. His words, not mine."

Shit! You definitely took way longer fixing that light bulb than you should have.

"Ah! I'll be returning quickly then! Sun!" You turn around to ask him for your lunchbox, but he's already handing it out to you. ".... Thank you," you softly tell him as you take the lunchbox from his hands without a fight and run toward the restaurant.

And now it's just Vanessa and Sun.

"You really like ruining other people's fun, don't you?" Sun glares at Vanessa.

"Just like you ruined mine last night. It's payback for that and for ruining my desk with your little jealousy tantrum." she hisses back at him, then turns to walk away from the basement without another word and toward the main desk, leaving Sun alone in the basement glaring at her.

"Party pooper." He exclaims with a huff as he crosses his arms. And they were having so much fun toying around with their darling starlight.

────────────

"What took you so damn long?!" Augh. Bob's mad mad. "Sorry... I just got a bit distracted." you say as you put on your apron, not daring yourself to look at his face.

"Then stop lazing around and go tend those customers." He growls at you and returns to his cooking. You sigh and walk towards the table with your notebook out, ready to start your second shift.

[bqu1nns]

intermittently - brian q.

my first fan fic ever!! [clap] [clap] in this fanfic, brian is a minor, 16-17 years old???? and the reader is a minor as well so no freaky stuff!!! leave comments on how i can improve PLEASEEE i love ya bye bye !

word count : 713

january 29th 1992

“i think i love you”, brian says to you, as the confession echoes through the late winter air. his words are pouring out more than he would have hoped. his gaze remained focused on your eyes only, observing your reaction with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. 

he is certainly not the type of highschool teenager to get all shy and nervous around other people but whenever he was around you, brian's demeanor shifted in your presence. he became a gentle and caring soul, a stark contrast to his usual self. from the first day you stepped into high school, he took it upon himself to ensure your well-being, guiding you through the hallways and making sure you found your classes.

the place of confession, in all honesty, isn't ideal. but, it does hold sentimental value – just right outside the back doors of your highschool that had witnessed countless moments between the two of you. from accidental hand touches in the cafeteria line, exchanging silly faces in the hallway and sharing lunches by the football field, this place held a trove of shared memories.

 you always thought to yourself that it was impossible to ever get bored of him. brian had a knack of turning uncomfortable moments into wholesome jokes, gently caressing your shoulder in hopes of making you feel better. everytime he leaves those innocent touches against your skin, you can't help but blush, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. 

with the help of the cold january breeze nipping against your neck, you snap back to reality. the very boy that you've liked for a year just said the words that you've spent nights fantasizing and giggling against your pillow about. the soft wind tousled his soft brown hair, revealing his furrowed eyebrows, still awaiting for an answer while you were daydreaming.  

a subtle tension lingers in the air between the two of you, like a red string tied to the both of you. brian senses that you felt contemplated in the moment, took a step back, and let you figure out what you were going to say next. he places his hands over his face in complete embarrassment, letting out a nervous laugh and says, “look, i didn't mean to put you on the spot or anything. i just wanted to let you know how i feel for you since i've been sensing some things have changed between the two of us.” 

god! hes sickeningly sweet.

“i.. i never would have expected this,” you say, trying to control your heart from jumping out of your chest. you finally look up to brian to see how beautiful he looks. the winter sun had casted a soft glow on his face, accentuating the sincerity of his brown eyes. 

i wanna kiss him. badly. 

brian, who can't stop smiling, stood in front of you, softly brushing the hair from your face with his fingers. his hands then moved down to your jacket, anxiously playing with the zipper. the awkward silence was filled with unspoken emotions. 

“you know, brian,” you begin softly, “this might sound crazy but, i've been trying to muster those words for the longest time myself.” his lips part gently, waiting to hear what you’ll say next. 

“i love you,” you confessed. his eyes, wide with surprise and joy, met yours, and the entire atmosphere shifted. brian’s mittens, warm against your gentle skin, cupped your cheek. “i've been waiting to hear those words for so long,” brian whispered against your forehead, pressing a kiss against it. 

a moment of hesitation flows through the both of you as your bodies are close against one another. everything is silent except for the sound of the two sounds of breathing and giggles leaving the both of you. he leans in closer to your face, merely inches away. without any needed words, both of your lips met in a kiss. 

you finally feel the lips you've been wanting to kiss ever since the day he lended you his coat when you were feeling a “bit cold”. since the day he held you gently in his arms as you cried in his arms. since the day he “accidentally” kissed your cheek when you accomplished something that you've been wanting. 

since forever. 

[ilaytrapsfortroubadours]

😴sleepy hug / falling asleep together for Lokius !

(I have no idea where in the series this takes place, just don't worry about it 🥲💕)

***

Loki and Mobius unceremoniously strolled back to their quarters, nary exchanging a word or even a glance.

They approached the elevator, Mobius hitting the button and waiting by Loki's side, hearing the subtle tick, tick, tick of the elevator approaching their floor.

It wasn't until after they entered the elevator that Loki shot Mobius a glance, to which the analyst returned the glance with a tired smile.

"We did good today," Loki said, trying to get Mobius to catch his eye.

"Yeah," Mobius said, eyes fixed to the floor.

"We did all we could've done."

"I could've done better."

"Mobius—"

"Just—" Mobius turned to Loki, about to snap at him, before taking a deep breath and letting it out. "—Don't. Please. Don't try to comfort me. I—" He sighed, exasperated. "I fucked up, okay? I almost got one of our guys killed, not to mention losing the variant without a trace."

"It wasn't your fault that the expulsion method backfired," Loki said, resting a hand on Mobius's shoulder. "I mean, who the hell could've known that this variant was immune to fire?"

"I could've known. I should've known."

"Mobius—"

"I should've checked his file, this is all my fault—"

"The responsibility of vetting our targets wasn't entirely on you. We had dozens of other agents that glossed over that. It was—" Loki paused, gathering his thoughts. "...An institutional failure, alright? And besides, beforehand, we were caught up in that surprise meeting with Renslayer, so you wouldn't have had time to check, anyway."

The elevator dinged, the doors opening. Mobius exited first, Loki following close behind him as they walked back to the agent's quarters.

"It wasn't your fault, okay?" Loki said, as Mobius fumbled with the keycard to his front door.

The agent nodded, staring into the door blankly for a moment before scanning the card and leading Loki in.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?" Mobius said, shrugging off his jacket.

"I just need to sleep, I think," Loki said, slipping off his shoes and tie, watching Mobius as he did so. "Are you okay?"

"I'm— I'm fine. Just need to sleep, like you said." Mobius replied, struggling to keep the tremble out of his hands as he filled a glass with water.

Loki didn't believe Mobius's answer for a second, but decided not to pry.

"I'm going to go take a shower," He said.

"Okay," Mobius replied, absentmindedly.

...

Loki emerged from the bathroom, towel drying his curls when he saw Mobius. He was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, struggling to stifle his sobs.

Loki's heart sank. His first instinct was to rush over and comfort his friend, though he knew that the second Mobius knew Loki saw him, he would clear his throat and act like everything was fine.

Instead, he set the towel down on the floor and walked over to Mobius slowly, hoping that the agent didn't hear him, as that would immediately make Mobius panic and shut down.

Mobius only lifted his head as he felt the couch beside him dip, looking up to see Loki looking at him with a concerned expression.

Damn it.

"Loki, I—"

"Mobius. Don't lie to me. Please."

Mobius was left with his lips slightly parted, mid-dismissal. Loki stared into his eyes, his gaze sharp and determined, almost frightening. Love is a dagger.

"Tell me what's wrong. Please," Loki pleaded.

The agent sighed, resigned.

"I just...I can't shake the feeling that it's all always my fault, you know?" Mobius said, his eyes flickering back down to the floor. "I feel like no matter what I do, it's never gonna be enough, and I just— end up being a failure. Putting everyone at risk. Not accomplishing the one task I was set out to do."

He sighed, rubbing his neck anxiously.

"It makes me think I'm the problem. And I feel like I didn't used to be. I used to be good at this. I used to be sharp, and clever, with an impeccable track record. And now, I just can't stop...messing everything up."

Mobius felt his eyes well up with tears again, to his dismay.

"...I feel like all I ever do is let people down."

It was like a knife to his chest, Loki hearing that from Mobius, who was, in his eyes, the most clever man he'd ever known.

"Mobius. Look at me," Loki said, taking the agent's hands in his. "You are not letting anyone down, and you are not a failure. You're the smartest man in this entire godforsaken place. And I mean that."

Mobius smiled minutely, still struggling to keep Loki's gaze.

"I appreciate it, Lokes. I'm just..." Mobius sighed deeply, his shoulders drooping. "Tired. I'm so tired, Loki."

The agent couldn't keep the tears in his eyes from falling at that. Loki gently placed his hand on Mobius's cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "I know, my dear. But we're here. We're okay. Everyone is okay."

Mobius nodded, his head falling forward in exhaustion.

"Let's get you to bed," Loki said.

...

Loki pulled the covers up over Mobius's shoulders. The god bit his lip, hesitant to leave, but he turned to do so anyway.

"Wait," Mobius murmured.

Loki's heart leapt. He turned back.

"Would you— Would you wanna stay for a bit, maybe?"

Loki smiled. "Sure."

Mobius returned his grin and sat up, patting the spot next to him.

Loki crawled in next to him, feeling uncharacteristically giddy, albeit a bit nervous as well, his heart beating a bit too quickly.

He turned to Mobius, both of them sharing a bit of laughter over the absurdity of the situation.

Loki couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a bed with someone, and was unsure if Mobius ever had.

"Sorry if I'm not the best company, I'm pretty exhausted," Mobius said.

"It's no trouble. I'm quite tired, myself," Loki replied.

"Well. Guess we best get some rest, huh?"

"Agreed."

Mobius turned and switched off the lamp beside him, laying down and positioning himself so he was facing Loki.

"You know, you've been fussing over me all night, I feel obligated to ask—" Mobius said, his tone playful, albeit sincere. "How are you? You good?"

Loki felt the urge to respond as usual, with his typical "Oh, I'm fine," but Mobius had been so honest and vulnerable with him. It was only fair that he did the same, despite his instinctual reluctance.

"I'm, well—" Loki stuttered, "I've been— in an odd place, I suppose?"

"Yeah? How so?" Mobius asked.

"Well, when you found out your tormentor was at fault for your gory and untimely death, it makes one reexamine a lot about themselves," Loki said, trying to keep his tone light and joking, failing to hold back a nervous stutter at the end of his sentence.

"I can imagine," Mobius responded, concerned. "I feel a need to apologize for— well, the whole interrogation deal."

"Oh, please, Mobius, no apology needed," Loki said, dismissive. "You were just doing your job. And I'm fine."

"Are you?" Mobius said, returning the same sharp and prodding gaze Loki had given him earlier.

"...Maybe not," Loki murmured.

"That's okay," Mobius said. "You don't have to be. We can be 'not okay' together. How's that sound?"

Loki nodded, lest the tears in his eyes escape if he uttered a word.

"Hey," Mobius whispered, taking Loki's chilled hand. "It's like you said to me. We're alright. We're safe."

Loki nodded, squeezing his eyes shut at the onslaught of memories and emotions flooding his mind.

"Do you, would it help if I—" Mobius stuttered.

Loki looked up at him, inquisitive despite his distress.

Mobius lifted his other arm minutely, indicating his offer.

Loki nodded, moving to wrap his arms around the agent, his head tucked perfectly underneath Mobius's chin. He breathed in deeply, trying to replace the images in his mind with the agent's comforting scent.

Mobius smiled as he felt a sense of love and adoration flood through him, warm and syrupy sweet like honey. He wrapped his arms securely around the god.

"Thank you," Loki muttered, exhausted.

"Thank you," Mobius replied. "We're in this together, alright?"

Loki nodded, finding one of Mobius's hands and lacing his fingers with the agent's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We are."

Mobius returned the affirmation, squeezing Loki's hand as he let his eyes fall closed.

"Sorry if I get your pillowcase wet," Loki said, indicating his still-wet hair.

Mobius chuckled. "Small price to pay."

[marieisnothere12]

Idk what to write for this

so im continuing @jmgangel ratiorine fic. (fic below)

https://www.tumblr.com/jmgangel/750152629393457152/little-thing-i-wrote-based-off-of-this-post-of?source=share

i dont really know what should happen at the interview. Any ideas? I wrote ratio and topaz knowing abt it but thats it.

[inexplicablymine]

Time for an ask!

How do you think Alex’s introduction to David went? Who was more excited?

Short Answer: They are equally excited and Henry is a little butt hurt that Alex is able to get along so easily with David (but secretly thrilled).

Long answer: a canon-compliant if you squint Ficlet for you because this ask SENT ME PLACES. (see below to keep reading)

My Two Favorite Royals

“Oh stop wait you know what would make this better,”

“What Alex,” Henry asks in an exasperated tone, he is already hanging on by a thread at seeing the object of his every fantasy in threadbare joggers and glasses. Alex grabbing his hand only moments ago to take a photo for Instagram almost made him vibrate out of his skin.

“Where is your dog?”

Henry sputters back, “My, my dog? What on earth- how do you know about my dog?”

Alex sends a lazy smile his way, “It was on your fact sheet sweetheart do keep up.”

Henry tries not to let the momentary confusion or the nickname get the best of him. He knows with certainty that anything about David wasn’t on that blasted fact sheet that was so wrong it could have been made for a complete stranger.

Alex is standing now pushing his laptop closed and looking up at Henry eagerly. It's a face Henry couldn’t possibly ignore.

With a resigned sigh Henry turns and walks towards his bedroom. He can’t help but think about how he has never had a boy in his bedroom. Sure Pez, but that didn’t count. And now… now his inescapable insufferable crush was going to be waltzing into his bedroom of all things looking like a wet dream walking.

Henry is ripped from his internal monologue by a shout and Alex running in front of him to David.

He can’t tell who is more excited, his beagle, who is shaking so much his entire body is wiggling with every tail wag, or Alex, who immediately drops to the floor arms open wide to accept the wriggling dog into his arms.

“Ohhhh such a good boy, yes you are, what a handsome dog, the most important royal yes you are,” Alex coos. Henry can feel his heart bursting at the sight. Alex’s uncontrollable laughter when David starts licking him, and the way he sits fully against the wall legs splayed out and glasses askew is giving him heart palpitations.

Alex looks up smiling, “Not sure how such a cute dog got stuck with such a stuck up owner but I might just have to take him home for myself.”

“Excuse me! Stuck up? You can’t take David he is the only thing that keeps me sane in this prison cell.”

Alex looks a little startled by the outburst and pauses to pat the ground next to him.

“Want to elaborate on that sweetheart.”

Henry isn’t sure when the nickname came to be but he isn’t going to ask for it to stop. So he sits down, completely undignified in his jim jams, and lets David break the ice between them.

The next two hours are spent with their hands accidentally touching while they pet David. Alex pesters Henry for more answers, real answers, about his life than he has ever been asked before.

They argue about David’s name and Alex says his only saving grace is that he is no longer a mystery to Alex but the rest of the world can stay that way. It warms him up from the inside. He doesn’t want to look too hard into anything or give himself a false sense of hope.

Maybe Alex is just this touchy with everyone. Maybe the nicknames aren’t just for him. Maybe he also holds someone’s hand in his own as he puts his number into their phone demanding daily updates of David or incurring his wrath.

When Alex is somewhere over the Atlantic he gets a notification link on his phone to an Instagram post.

Alex in his glasses and sweats holding David mid laughter. Henry next to him also laughing. The Crown is going to kill him for looking so unprofessional, but the caption is what stops him short.

“Had to hop across the pond to visit my two favorite royals (don’t tell Henry that David is really my favorite)”

Henry can’t stop the way his heart jumps at being called a favorite anything of Alex’s.

He scrolls down to the comments and sees a wave of support.

Comments about how real their friendship is, how cute David is, how real friends wouldn’t have photos like this together, how the bromance is real.

His heart doesn’t stop thumping with every text back and forth with Alex that evening. Or the next.

His heart is in his throat with every phone call, it pitters restlessly when he receives selfies from the bed, it leaps when he gets a phone call at thanksgiving, and clenches dangerously when he finally ends the call on Christmas Eve.

A year and a half after that selfie was posted to Instagram they are sitting on a low leather couch in a brownstone in Brooklyn. A place that Henry never expected to call home. Alex is in sweats and Henry is wearing one of Alex’s NYU sweatshirts. They are currently arguing over which season of The Great British Bake Off to watch when Alex gets an alert on his phone.

He looks down and laughs. Henry doesn’t have a moment to ask what it’s about before Alex is dragging David up from his place between the two of them into his arms. David lets out a small huff but quickly relaxes back into Alex, where he has found home in the past year just as easily as Henry.

“Smile babe,”

Henry has learned not to question Alex so he leans in and smiles, realizing just how easy it is now to let the corners of his mouth curl up.

A few moments of tapping and Alex sets his phone down on the table with a flourish.

“So are you going to share what that was about?” Henry lightly pesters.

“Only putting an online debate to rest, you might want to mute your notifications sweetheart.”

Oh god what has he done now, is all Henry can think as he pulls his own phone up.

Posted on his Instagram Alex has created a slideshow of photos. The one he just took at the front of the group. As Henry swipes through he can’t help but smile as image after image of the three of them, Alex, Henry, and David are together. The final photo makes his breath catch. There they are on the floor of Kensington Palace, long before anything happened, long before Henry knew just how wonderful his life might turn out to be.

The caption is simple and sweet,

“Just wanted to update y’all on how it’s going with my two favorite royals. (Don't tell David but Henry is my favorite.)”

[chemdisaster]

every time scar died in 3rd life, grian screamed.

a shocked exclamation as the creeper went off and scar's stuff exploded around them. "SCAR, NO!" as scar missed a step and slammed into hard stone, feeling agony shoot up his legs in a blink before he was gone. sobbing out apologies as his fists rained down on grey skin, yelling at the sky for the universe to hear.

no one ever screams when scar loses his lives anymore.

grian laughs when he steals scar's first life, and smiles grimly as he threatens scar into giving away two more. etho pierces him with a cold stare as he transfers a life to bdubs, and cackles as he wraps the fishing line around his waist and slashes at his back before scar can even realise what's going on. cleo squeals in joy and calls him a friend, but at the end of it all leaves anyway. no one stays, and scar gets used to the coldness of death and the echoes of silence.

grian screams again when scar shows up, trembling and desperate, and falls into their trap. but he goes up to his mountain in the dead of night and does not mention it when he finds him curled up and shivering under his blankets. scar waits for grian to say something, anything, but all he hears is the placing of a chest and the sound of wind rushing through his front door. by the time he rolls over in his bed, grian is gone. scar does not know what he expected, but he burned in lava and he thinks that maybe all the poppies and lilacs burned with him.

when he dies for the final time, all he hears is the sounds of battle and the squelch as the arrow splits his skin. but scar thinks of grian. and he thinks of the cactus ring. and he thinks that maybe he'd die a slow death over and over again, if only someone would care.

[ziltoidcoffee]

CK Drabble: Mail-Order Omega

(A Silverusso drabble based on old photos of Ralph where he looks absolutely bratty.

Daniel is an omega whose mother signs him up for an alpha-omega dating agency. Refusing to marry some random alpha, he tries to sabotage himself, but an alpha named Terry Silver is still interested. When the alpha flies to Newark to visit him, Daniel is forced to go on the date, but he spends the entire time trying to get Terry to hate him. It doesn’t quite work.)

At nineteen years old, Daniel has no interest in getting married.

He just finished high school and has his whole life ahead of him. Only he’s an omega, the rarest of the second genders. This means nothing really, except that he has a heat every other month and got picked on by every alpha growing up. Thankfully, he started reading about karate sophomore year and was able to fend for himself—at least for the most part. But being an omega also means he’s a very eligible bachelor.

Most particularly to alphas, who are almost as rare. Therefore, omegas are often arranged to marry and mate them, and their families are given a hefty paycheck. But Daniel wants to marry for love, not money. Always has, always will.

Yet he’s riding the bus on his way to an arranged date with an alpha he’s never met before.

It’s all his mother’s fault. She signed him up for this arranged marriage agency through the mail. Not against his will. Daniel agreed. But not without a fight. At first, he refused and threatened to move out. Then she revealed how far behind they are on the mortgage payment. She got let go from her job a month ago and hasn’t been able to find work since.

Daniel didn’t want to lose the family house, the one his father bought for them. So he tried to help, applying to hundreds of jobs around town. But apparently, an omega is worth more as a fiance than an employee. Especially one with no experience and only a high school diploma.

He kept searching though. Cause there’s no way he was marrying some random alpha, no matter how much they were willing to pay. That’s what Daniel told himself. Then he walked in on his mother crying over a picture of them with his dad.

“Fine, ma. I give up. Call the agency,” he told her at the time. “But I doubt anyone will wanna marry me.”

That was two weeks ago.

Since then, his mother found a new job, and they’re no longer behind on mortgage payments. So Daniel assumed she’d drop the idea. But his mom played the guilt card and begged him to go. She claimed she wanted Daniel to have what she and his father did. That world for like a minute—until he had to pose for photos and fill out some long-winded survey. He felt like a piece of meat up for sale.

Disgusted with himself and the whole idea, he took the worst photos and gave the most annoying answers, guaranteeing no alpha would want him

Except one stupid alpha did.

His mother broke the news to him last night. A wealthy, older alpha from California was interested in Daniel. So much that he apparently flew in last night and arranged a date at the most expensive restaurant in Newark. He begged his mother to cancel the date, explaining that any alpha who wanted him was probably crazy. But after accidentally revealing his plan to sabotage, he gave her fuel to guilt trip him into going.

Only he wasn’t going to “behave” like she urged him when he stomped on the bus. Daniel’s going to make this alpha hate him, even if he had to embarrass himself in front of the entire town.

Because there’s no way he’s marrying this alpha. He wants to mate with someone he loves—not for money or status.

Daniel’s plan begins when he arrives at the restaurant. The bus dropped him off a block away, but he doesn’t walk in the door until his date’s already been sitting there for ten minutes. He almost feels bad. But after clocking the snide look from the hostess at his cheap suit, he’s reminded why tonight has to be a failure. This alpha isn’t from his world, and after tonight, he’ll know Daniel isn’t made for his either.

Yet the alpha seems completely unbothered when the hostess leaves him at their table. He smiles wide, stands up, and offers his hand. “Hello, Daniel,” he greets. “Terry Silver. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

His voice sends a shiver down Daniel’s spine, as does the alpha’s rich, intoxicating scent. He smells of the ocean on a sunny day with hints of cherry blossoms, leather, and sandalwood. It’s so strong that he can hardly think and even takes a second to respond.

“Uh, you too,” he manages and shakes the alpha’s hand while trying not to stare. Because if the scent of him wasn’t enough, Terry is one of the most handsome men he’s ever met, with his dark blue eyes, statuesque proportions, and charming smile.

But this changes nothing.

Terry may be an attractive alpha, but he’s still willing to spend money on an omega he doesn’t even know. Clearly, there must be something wrong with him, and Daniel isn’t willing to marry him to find out. He sits down across from Terry and brings his attention to the leather-bound menu, preparing to launch into plan a: acting like a rude, spoiled brat. Hopefully, the restaurant staff will forgive him, and if not, it’s not like he’s coming back

“Did you already order?” he snaps, changing his tone entirely.

“Oh, no. I assumed you’d want to order your own meal.” When Daniel glances up, he half expects the alpha to be laughing. They’re known for walking all over omegas, some going as far as controlling what they eat. Yet Terry is smiling innocently and adds, “Please, order whatever you’d like. This is all on me, of course.”

Daniel scoffs. What a typical alpha, assuming he has no money. He might not. But he should at least get the opportunity to split the bill. At least he doesn’t have to pretend to be angry. “Of course? Because I can’t afford it?”

Terry frowns. “Would you like to pay for your share? I’d love to treat you, but maybe we can get dessert somewhere after where you can pay.”

His eyes go wide. He must be joking. “What?” Daniel never expected some wealthy, older alpha from L.A. to suggest eating somewhere in Newark—beyond their finest, most expensive restaurant.

The waitress arrives before Terry can answer. She asks what they’d like, and he orders the most expensive dish, tagliolini pasta with lobster and truffles. Daniel doesn’t even like seafood, but it's worth pissing off the alpha. Or he thought so anyway. Terry smiles and says he’ll have the same, along with a bottle of red from their top shelf.

He grits his teeth. Maybe the alpha is being polite, or he doesn’t know the price. It doesn’t matter though. Daniel is straying from his plan. But Terry beats him before he can even speak, asking, “So, how was your day, Daniel?” His tone is so friendly that a real answer almost comes out of Daniel.

Instead though, he crosses his arms with a pout. “Shit, I hated it.” Simple but effective.

Terry frowns. “Why? What happened?”

God, that sounded genuine. Daniel pretends to be unphased. “Oh, nothing particularly. I just fucking hate it here. Everyone sucks, and there’s nothing to do.” Which is such a lie. “You wouldn’t understand.” But that isn’t.

“I have bad days sometimes too,” Terry tells him. “Yesterday, I had a difficult work meeting, and then I sat in two hours of traffic.” Daniel rolls his eyes. Like that could even compare. “I remember you said in the letter that your favorite place is the Bahamas. Have you ever been there?”

Shit, he completely forgot everything he wrote. Now he’ll have to come up with an excuse that isn’t “I picked somewhere expensive and impractical so you’d be annoyed.” Daniel shrugs and says, “No, just thought it sounds—I don’t know…peaceful. Why? You hate it? Or been there too many times to count?”

A laugh rumbles out of Terry. The sound makes Daniel’s heart flutter, more than he wants to admit. “Only once or twice. For business. That’s how I’ve done most of my traveling. Or with a friend if he isn’t busy.” His lips draw into a smile. “But I would be open to doing more traveling, preferably with a mate to enjoy the trip with.”

Daniel hates how amazing the idea sounds, being able to see the world with someone you love. “Sounds nice.” The comment comes out before he can restrain himself, and his tone is hopeful, nothing close to rude.

Terry’s smile widens. Before either can speak, the waitress returns with the wine. She pours them both a glass, sets the bottle in ice on the table, and notes the food will be ready soon. Once she leaves again, the alpha lifts his glass into the air with a smile.

“To a wonderful evening,” he cheers, and Daniel smirks at the perfect opportunity.

“We’ll see,” he mutters and ignores Terry’s toast to take a drink.

The wine is fine, really. Not that much different from cheap stuff Daniel’s had at family gatherings. But that answer isn’t rude enough. He’ll have to take it up a notch. “Ugh.” Daniel slams his glass down with a groan. “Gross. It tastes like cheap grape juice.”

Any decent person would be annoyed. Instead, Terry hums and stares at the bottle. “I think you’re right. Perhaps she got the order wrong.” He looks around the room with a frown. “I’ll ask the waitress to double-check when she comes back around.”

Oh God. The last thing Daniel wants to do is get someone in trouble. He’s fine pissing off Terry but not a hardworking innocent woman. “No, don’t,” he blurts, then remembers he’s supposed to be rude and crosses his arms. “She’ll just fuck it up again.”

For a second, he swears the alpha’s lip quirk up, almost looking amused. But whatever was there is gone in a flash. Terry frowns and glances toward the back of the restaurant. “I just hope the food is acceptable. This was supposed to be the best place in town. I had my assistant Margaret check.”

Terry did research for their date? Did he care that much about trying to please him? Daniel’s heart flutters in his chest, but he ignores the feeling, remembering his mission.  “We should’ve gone to the city.” He slouches against the booth and lets out a loud groan. “God, this town’s going to the dogs.”

It hurts Daniel to talk trash about Newark, but at least his performance is successful. Everyone nearby turns to stare at them, and Terry looks less than enthused, glancing around the room. Daniel pretends not to care, sipping his glass of wine. When silence follows for several minutes, he’s ready to declare a victory. But then a hand settles over his on the table, bringing the alpha’s scent closer, and his gaze jumps to Terry who smiles back.

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time” He rubs his thumb across Daniel’s. “If you wish, we can leave now, and I’ll take us somewhere more acceptable. I know a chef who owns a restaurant on the upper east side. I’m sure he can find a table for us.”

His tone is so sincere that Daniel almost groans in annoyance. Clearly, Terry isn’t bothered by his bratty behavior, but he’s not willing to act any more rude than he has already. Which means it’s time to switch to plan b: acting like a slut. Because while the alpha doesn’t care if he’s impolite, there’s no way he’s going to want an omega who’s slept with half the town. Only Daniel’s never been past second past—with only one beta no less. Thankfully, he’s prepared an act for this strategy too.

“Nah, might as well stay. We’re already here.” Daniel slides off his suit jacket and undoes the top few buttons of his shirt, exposing a sliver of his mating gland. As expected, this draws the eyes of Terry instantly, but his expression doesn’t change.  “It’s just—I know the chef. He might spit in our food.”

The alpha’s brow raises, eyes coming back to his face. “Really? Why’s that?”

Daniel glances back at the kitchen door. “Let’s just say the alpha couldn’t get enough of what I was serving,” he says with a smirk, and Terry’s lips press together tightly.

Jackpot. Now he’s getting somewhere. “Didn’t help that was cooking for his beta brother too.” Daniel shrugs. “But what can I say? I’m an experienced chef.”

There’s silence for a moment, as Terry simply stares at him. Daniel can’t help but curl his fist in victory under the table. He’s going to be asked to leave, maybe even yelled at. But then a laugh escapes the alpha, and he stiffens in confusion. “Well, that’s good to hear…because I can’t cook at all,” Terry says with a grin. “Maybe you could give me cooking lessons sometime. Or at least share your recipes.”

God dammit. He rolls his eyes. Is this alpha stupid or what? Didn’t he catch the innuendo? “Christ,” Daniel mutters under his breath. He’ll have to get more obvious. But before he can say anything else, the waitress returns with their food and places a dish in front of each of them.

“Looks better than I thought,” Terry chuckles, reading for his fork and knife. “Have you had this before?”

“Uh—” Daniel unwraps his utensils while he thinks of a response. “Yeah, but I don’t remember the taste much. Had too many garlic knots that night.” To punctuate the words, he winks and stuffs a helping of the pasta in his mouth.

Terry nods but doesn’t respond until he’s taken a bite himself. “I’ve never been one for garlic,” he admits. “But maybe you could convince me” Daniel coughs, almost choking in shock at his ignorance, and the alpha’s eyes widen. “Are you okay? Here, let me—”

He swallows with a gasp and pushes away his hand, wanting the alpha’s addicting smell as far away as possible. “I’m fine. Just went down the wrong pipe.”

“Good, you had me worried.” Terry smiles, and Daniel looks away, irritated at the failure of his plan. Maybe he has to be more obvious. Even though he hoped to leave with some dignity.

An opportunity arises when the beta waitress returns to their table. “How is everything?” she asks with a smile Her friendliness only makes Daniel feel worse, but hopefully, she’ll understand. He can always come back later and explain someday.

“It’s—” Terry begins, but he cuts the alpha off. “It’s wonderful!” Daniel exclaims with a smirk.

She nods. “Good to hear. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.” “Well, there is something else I want,” Daniel purrs, leaning in close enough to smell her faint rose and vanilla scent. “What time do you get off tonight?”

He brushes his hand against her thigh, and her eyes go wide. “I—” She glances between them. “That’s—”

“That’s all.” A low, commanding voice cuts in. He sucks in a breath, snapping his gaze to Terry leering across the table. Daniel pulls his hand back, reacting to the alpha growl before his brain can catch up.

This seems to please Terry. He smiles and nods at the waitress who scurries away. But his eyes narrow again when he turns back to Daniel, still frozen for some strange reason. “Are you done yet?” he asks with a sigh, tone dripping with irritation.

Daniel blinks at him. “What?”

Terry takes another bite before answering. “This—” He waves the fork between them. “Your act.”

His stomach drops at the accusation. Does he mean—he can’t possibly know—was Daniel being that obvious? He clears his throat. “W-what do you mean?” Despite playing dumb, he can’t strip the nervous stutter from his words.

“You know very well.” Terry’s chuckle sounds more amused than angry.

Still, even if he’s not mad, there’s no way Daniel’s confessing. Not until he has to. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he snaps, slamming his fork on the table. “I’m not doing anything!”

His rising voice earns the attention of a few guests nearby, but Terry doesn’t react more than glancing at the silverware before returning his gaze to the omega. “Yes, you are,” he declares while reaching for his glass. “But I’ll play your little game and explain—this time anyway.”

Daniel swallows, waiting for an answer. He swears the alpha takes longer than necessary to drink his wine. But once he sets the glass back down, Terry smiles and steeples his hands on the table. “Where shall I begin? Perhaps the beginning. When I first received your application.” Daniel shrugs like he doesn’t care, but his heart is thumping in his chest.

Terry nods. “First, let me be honest. I wasn’t really interested in an omega—or mating. Not in the slightest. But my assistant Margaret—she’s ‘concerned’ about me, apparently. So she signed me up for this alpha-omega matchmaking agency—behind my back.” Daniel snorts. She sounds like his mom.  “Anyway, I glanced at a few applications, but nothing stuck out. Like I suspected. I am a man of particular taste…But then yours came across my desk, and your picture alone interested me.”

Heat rises to Daniel’s cheeks. He never thought a man like Terry would be interested in him. At least not for his looks. Though that would explain why the alpha still wanted to meet him after the photos and answers Daniel sent.

“But,” Terry continues with a growing smile. “Your photos—they looked very…staged.”

The word is like a kick to Daniel’s face. But to avoid looking phased, he swallows and stares straight ahead.

“So I did my own research, of course. Or rather, Margaret did.” Uh oh. Daniel didn’t like the sound of that. “She was able to get a hold of your school yearbook. But those photos looked posed too. So I reached out to the agency, and your mother sent out some more photos the next. Didn’t she tell you?”  His jaw tightens. No, she didn’t. God dammit. He got played by his own mother. “Well, the Daniel in those photos seemed nothing like the brat you were trying to portray in the first batch—and today.”

Before he can stop himself, Daniel lifts a hand to palm his face, But once he realizes and pulls back, it’s already too late. From the grin on Terry’s face, he clearly saw everything. “So, you see.” The alpha glances at the door then turns back to Daniel. “The jig was up—long before you even walked in here and put on that act.”

Daniel’s heart stutters in his chest. He’s been caught. Terry knows everything. But wait—what about the questionnaire? He still has that at least. “Think whatever you want. But that was me, and this is me,” he defends. “Didn’t you get my survey? Everything I wrote was the truth. It’s not my fault if you can’t handle me.”

A bark of laughter erupts from Terry. “Oh, Danny-boy,” he chuckles, the nickname a shiver down Daniel’s back. When did that start? “I can handle you well enough. Even if this—” He spreads his arms wide between them. “Is the real you.” Daniel’s hand curls to a fist under the table. Fuck, he embarrassed himself for nothing. “But I know it’s not,” Terry adds. “At least, not to this extent.”

That’s a hell of a claim. “How could you know?” Daniel growls. Did his mom redo the questionnaire too? He swears she sent the letter as is.

Terry shrugs. “I did my homework, like any good businessman would.”

Daniel raises a brow. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think,” he answers. “I hired a private investigator to look into you. He spoke with your friends and family, pretending to be a potential employer, and they painted an entirely different picture of Daniel LaRusso. One that looked nothing like the person you pretended to be today, or in those photos, or the survey.”

A shiver runs down Daniel’s spine. He’s not sure what’s more unsettling, that Terry sent a stranger to investigate him or that the man knew who to ask and where. “I can’t believe you did that,” he hisses. “You’re crazy."

The alpha barks a laugh. “You really think I’d fly all the way here without doing a little digging first?” Daniel’s face burns with self-consciousness. Maybe he was stupid for assuming, but still, a phone call would have sufficed. “But I’m not saying that to offend you. I would do the same for any omega I was interested in.” He leans in closer, and the distance makes his scent grow stronger. “And it’s a good thing I did because all that talk about you ‘cooking’ around town might’ve fooled me. But we both know that’s not the truth, is it?”

Shame burns like a flame under Daniel’s skin. He can’t believe this is happening, that the alpha would go that far. “Jesus Christ.” He starts to button his shirt back up, feeling like a fool. “What the hell did he ask them?” Because he can only imagine the worst.

“Relax,” Terry chuckles, but Daniel doesn’t miss his gaze flickering to Daniel’s chest. “I told him to be discreet. But let’s just say…your family likes to gossip. He didn’t have to say much before your past relationships came up. Or should I say relationship?”

Daniel groans and drops his head back against the booth. “God dammit.” Having a big mouth seems to run in his family, and sadly, he’s not an expectation from that rule. They know way more than any relative should about his sex life, which means Terry was right when he said “the jig is up.” His act was a complete waste of time.

“Fine.” He slams a hand on the table. “You’re right, okay? I was faking it.” His hands come together to clap slowly and sarcastically. “Congratulations, you found me out. Can I go now?” Daniel glances around, looking for the waitress. “Maybe I can get this to go or—”

Terry’s hand on his stops him mid-sentence. He freezes and glances up at the frowning alpha. “Wait, Daniel, hear me out.” His plea sounds sincere, and he even retracts his touch, earning Daniel’s silence to continue. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was interested in you, and despite everything, I still am. So let’s start over and make this a real date.” He holds out his hand with a charming smile. “I’m Terry Silver. Nice to meet you.”

He stares at the alpha’s fingers in silence, trying to decide what to do. On one hand, Terry has been creepy and manipulative, and every instinct in Daniel is saying to run, as far away as possible. But then again, he hasn’t been much better, lying and playing the alpha because he can’t stand up to his mom properly. So in a way, he feels like he owes him a genuine date, and when he was acting earlier, Terry was being a gentleman.

Plus, he’s probably the most handsome man that’s ever shown interest. And he smells ridiculously good, better than any alpha Daniel’s ever met. Even now, with his hand so close, Terry’s scent is wafting across the table, and Daniel has to close his eyes a second to concentrate on making a decision.

Ultimately, he comes up with the same answer. “Sorry,” Daniel starts, and the mere word makes Terry drop his hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m not really interested in dating right now, and I don't even know you. But thanks for the offer.” He tears his gaze from the alpha whose smile has faded to glance around the restaurant. “I wonder if I can get a box from the—”

A sigh from Terry cuts him off. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this…”

“Do what?” Daniel asks as the alpha reaches into his suit jacket and retrieves a small device that he sets on the table. “What’s that? Is that a recorder?” He’s seen them a few times in movies, but that doesn’t explain why Terry would have one. “Were you recording this? Why?”

“Leverage.” Terry shrugs. “I told you, Danny. I’m a businessman, and a good one at that.”

Is he really calling him Danny at a time like this? “Stop calling me that,” he hisses. “And what leverage? Nothing I did is illegal.” It isn’t, right? “Not illegal per say but certainly against the contract you and your mother signed.” Terry slides a hand into his jacket again, this time to pull out a folded up piece of paper that he slides across the table. “Take a look at section a, sub-section d.”

With a sneer, Daniel snatches the contract and unfolds to find the specific section, which he reads out loud. “If the omega provides false information or lies on the application or attached documents, such lies are grounds for contract termination.” He shrugs. “So what? Void it? I don’t care.” That’s exactly what he wants.

Terry taps the paper with a finger. “Go on.”

He rolls his eyes but continues. “Once the contract is voided with proof of falsification, the alpha has the right to seek payment for any—” Daniels goes silent as he reads the rest of the sentence then peers up at Terry with wide eyes.

“I take it you understand, yes?” Daniel nods, still too stunned to speak. “Good. Then if you still want to end this date and void the contract, you’re now responsible for the bill and my plane ticket here.” Terry takes back the paper and winks. “And I only fly first class.”

Daniel swallows. He can pay the restaurant bill. It might be everything he has left in savings, but he can, if he has to. But the plane ticket—there’s no way he can pay for that. His mom probably can’t either.

He runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. “What do you want? Cause I’ll finish this date. Whatever.” Daniel points at him with a glare. “But don’t expect me to be in a good mood now. Not when you’re sitting there threatening me.”

This earns him a laugh. “Oh, the offer’s changed now,” Terry says, reaching for his glass of wine. “We’ll finish this meal, but that’s not all I want.”

“What then? What more do you want? Cause I ain’t got much to offer.”

“You’re more than enough,” Terry purrs, and Daniel hates how that warms his cheeks. “I want you to come out to California with me—for at least a week. Give me that long to plead my case, or rather, court you. And don’t worry, you won’t be responsible for paying for anything while you’re there, and you’ll get to stay in my mansion, in your own bed. I promise.”

The offer sounds too good to be true. A free trip to California where he’ll get to stay in a mansion with a handsome alpha? Daniel would say yes in a heartbeat—if Terry were anyone else. But right now, he wants to be nowhere near the man who threatened him and interrogated his family. Well, technically he didn’t, but still.

When he doesn’t answer right away, the alpha sets his glass down with a frown “Fine, I’ll leave,” he sighs, setting the napkin from his lap on the table. “The agency will be in touch with you and your mother about payment. Have a good day, Daniel.”

Terry only gets a foot away before Daniel blurts out, “Wait.” He turns around slowly and sits back down.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m probably gonna regret this,” Daniel starts, but when Terry’s jaw tenses, he rushes to finish. “Sorry. I’m just—” He sighs and forces out the words. “I’ll do it. I’ll go with you to California. For a week. That’s it. As long as you leave my mom alone…and don’t ask us for any money. That’s my offer.”

A sharp smile worms itself to Terry’s lips. “You got a deal.”  Daniel sighs in relief but startles when his plate is pushed toward him. “Eat up, Danny-boy. Our plane leaves in a few hours.”

He sucks in a breath. Yeah, he’s gonna regret this.

[fool16k]

Between skin and felt - part 1

It was a very boring day in the studio today, you did your job as the prop manager well enough that Mr. Darling never had to yell or scream at you to do your job correctly unlike most of the other seasoned employees that worked on Welcome Home. At least.. that’s what you thought. You happened to be having an off day, thinking about those weird dreams you were having about Mr. Darling and his literal bodyguard had you on edge, it didn’t help that they were also RIGHT there a few feet away from you.

As you go to lower the giant, exaggerated, cartoonish sun prop, your grip on the old rope they still used from refusing to extend the prop and maintenance budget slipped and the heavy plywood painted prop crashed to the ground.. narrowly hitting Janet.

“WHAT THE FUCK ASSHOLE!? YOU COULD’VE KILLED ME!!” The resounding crash the prop had made as it hit the ground caught the attention of almost everybody in the room and suddenly all eyes were on you.. Including Mr. Darling and Max. Your palms sweat as you nervously look everywhere except at all the eyes staring at you in the moment,

“It was an accident! The rope slipped out of my hands- it’s old and ratty.. and quit being so dramatic Janet. It wouldn’t have killed you.. just… seriously maimed you a bit..” The blond haired jerk of the studio had her mouth agape, and your comment got a few snickers out of the more dark humored interns that were currently working. She mumbles a few things underneath her breath as she angrily ushers past you to go somewhere else, and it’s quiet before a voice cuts through the air.

“My set.. is ruined.” Your eyes turn over to Wally, who is angrily staring at the main set for the show.. which is in pieces.

His rage is intense, white hot rage if you will. But he sounds so calm that it scares you way more than hearing him yell and scream ever would.

“You’re staying late and fixing this.” He turns to look at you, his eyes are in slits and you can see hints of teeth poking through the grimace he’s wearing on his yellow felted face. You can only seem to muster the courage to swallow thickly and nod lightly before staring at the floor as everybody goes back to discussing their plans, albeit much quieter, and you can still feel Wally and Max’s eyes on you.

But this point, everybody has long since gone home - but you were still stuck cleaning up the mess you made. Hopefully, this experience will show how much better equipment is needed for the set pieces and props. You were VERY late to a party you had gotten invited to. The fraggles were hosting it, and you had no idea how you managed to get put on their radar or invited to a party thrown by some of the most iconic puppet actors of all time but you weren't complaining. It took forever to break down the giant sun prop that crashed into the stage, and it was almost 9:00 at night and you were still here.

"Maybe I can just get here early tomorrow.." you look around and go to the employee locker room where you kept all your stuff, changing out of your work clothes and into the extra set you had brought with you, but as you’re changing you hear Wally Darling himself talking to Max.

“Oh Max.. you’re the only human who I trust enough to bring to this party.. I’m so glad you decided to come with me!”

“Hmph. Only because you would cry and bitch at me if I didn’t agree.”

“Language Maxxy.”

A party?? Maybe they were also going to the fraggles party.. you’ll just have to avoid them then. You didn’t want to imagine the look on Mr. Darlings face if he caught slacking off at a celebrity’s party and not fixing his set. You soon have your casual clothes on, and you’re driving up to a remote modestly sized mansion in the heart of Hollywood. The house is big and modern looking, the flashing colored lights and loud bass boosted music tells you you’re in the right place and you park down the road and walk up the winding gated driveway to the building..

The winding line of people trying to get in reveals that this is in fact the house of a celebrity, but as you’re about to get in line someone stops you.

“Oi’!! Get over here! You’re part of VIP.” You look over and see.. Boober. THE Boober is talking to you- and you listen- I mean, who wouldn’t?? You follow him to a side gate, that leads to the backyard. It’s the most lavish outdoor space you’ve ever experienced, there was a minibar. the gigantic pool had lights in the sides seemingly making the normally crystal clear water change colors magically and the gazebo had fairy lights hanging from it, along with a few tiki torches.

Boober leads you to the gazebo, having you sit down he has the bartender a few feet away make you both some cocktails before speaking.

"So... we've heard good things about you. I'm coming forward on behalf of all the Muppets and asking a huge favor..." You take a sip of your cocktail before speaking meekly.

"Well... I don't know what you've heard about me, but I hope I can help you." Boober seems to perk up a bit, his mouth twitching upwards into a small smile.

"I thought you'd say that. The directors for welcome home that move around say that you help out with a little bit of everything, and not just props..." That was true... you did tend to overwork yourself a bit. But you liked being helpful, and that is how you were raised.

"The writers' strike going on right now, has really dropped the amount of people on our writing team, and we're falling behind on production... since we heard you're a decent writer and storyteller from what we hear, we would like to ask you to-" Boober is interrupted, his head turning towards the person who spoke.

"Hey Boob'! Max wanted me to ask you if he could..-" It was your boss. Wally, and he was staring right at you, having not finished his sentence out of surprise and anger.

what would you do now??

So.. this is my first time ever actually posting a fanfiction I've written. I do plan on continueing this but i feel like it has sat in my drafts for too long already, so enjoy part one!

Actor AU is by @frillsand.

[over-rated-cheese]

And I still got those stupid butterflies

I just loved this idea sm (I didn't rly edit this before posting and i also wrote it in like 2 hours so yeah)

This is inspired by this post @watchmenanon

“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” Those words still echo in Mike’s mind late at night. Things haven’t been the same ever since then, something was off… Will and Mike didn’t talk the way they used to, it’s like they were ignoring the gaping hole between them. 

The worst thing is that Mike knew this was all his fault. 

He should have been a better friend, maybe then things would be all right. 

That’s not what the voices tell him though. 

“How could you do that to your best friend? He’ll never forgive you” 

“You know what you are, you're just too scared to ambit it”

“He’ll think your disgusting because you are”

“No one could ever love you, not even El”

“You're better off dead!”

The sudden jolt of the plane landing seemed to stop any more thoughts from materializing. 

That’s right, Mike’s In California now. He can leave all those thoughts behind. They didn’t mean anything anyway.

Mike wouldn’t tell anyone this but he was extremely nervous. The thought of seeing El and Will after all this time sent a wave of panic through him. 

What if they didn’t care about him anymore?

What If they have new, cooler friends?

What if they don’t need you anymore?

“Mike!” The thoughts seemed to evaporate at the sound of El’s voice, maybe she does need him.

“But she doesn’t Michael, she never will again”

El wraps her hands around Mike, he squeezes back. He missed her so much. 

They share a kiss, “careful, careful, you're squishing your gift” Mike steps back and hand’s El the flowers. El seem’s disappointed, like she was expecting more, maybe he should have bought her a real gift instead.

Wait

“Where’s Will?” 

It comes out forced, Mike didn’t even mean to say it. Mike’s brain goes over all the possible places Will could be

“He hates you, he never wants to see you again”

“He was better friends to be hanging out with”

The letter, Mike thought.

The Girl…

El finishes that thought for him, “Oh Will is already at the roller rink with Angela, 

…His Girlfriend” 

Mike's world shatters, along with his heart. 

No

Will couldn’t have a girlfriend…

“Why can’t he have a Girlfriend, Micheal?”

“Does that make you jealous?”

“What kind of best friend are you?”

“Don’t you want him to be happy?”

Mike wants to run, so far and so hard that he loses all feeling. He can’t bear this. Will was his best friend, he wasn’t supposed to be with this stupid girl.

Mike doesn’t process the rest of the conversation or walking out of the airport or driving to the roller rink. All he can think about is Will…

Why does he need a stupid girlfriend?

Why can’t he just be happy without one?

Why does Mike care so much…?

Mike should be happy for Will, he was happy so Mike should be happy too but Mike wasn’t happy, he wanted to tear this fucking world apart.

“Why can’t you just be happy for him like everyone else?”

“What’s wrong with you...?”

What is wrong with him

Mike and El walked out of the pizza fan hand in hand, Jonathan shouted something, Mike didn’t care enough to listen.

Mike's eyes scanned the room for Will. He needed to know if Will hated him.

He needed to know if they were still friends, best friends.

“Why aren’t you paying attention to your girlfriend?”

“Do you even love her?”

“You care more about your best friend that your girlfriend, that’s not normal”

This wasn’t normal, Mike was messed up. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, you need socks” El was sitting next to Mike on the bench. 

Oh yeah, socks

Mike made his way to the counter, he felt like his head was spinning. 

Something felt off since he landed, maybe this is just the California vibe, things are different here than back home. Mike looks to what looks like a gay couple having a date,

A lot different.

That’s when Mike sees Will

His heart seemed to come alive again 

Will meets his eyes and shuffles over with his friends. Mike didn’t know that Will made so many friends since he moved. 

“Of course you don’t know anything, you barely call him”

Mike feels a simile escape his lips, Will returns one. 

He doesn’t hate Mike after all.

“Hey, Will” Mike goes in for a hug, it's been so long. All he gets in return is a pat on the shoulder. 

Nevermind maybe Will does hate him.

“Hey Mike” Mike says nothing, he’s in awe. Will looks so different. He looks good.

“Oh, these are my friends by the way” Will’s friends give Mike a kind smile. He wants to punch them in the face. “This is Stacy, Chad and my lovely girlfriend Angela” Will wraps an arm around her waist. They smile at each other. They look so happy.

Mike wants to throw up.

He hates this and he hates stupid Anglea and Will’s stupid friends. 

“Normal people don’t feel like this”

Will seemed to notice Mike’s disapproval, “Okay guys, I'm going to hang out with Mike for a little. See ya later” Will have Anengla a kiss on the forehead, just like Mike did at the airport.

Mike is glad it’s just the two of them, It’s been so long since they had a real conversation. 

Mike and Will sat down on a bench on the other side of the room. Mike met eyes with El. She nodded. She seemed to understand.

“Why do you ignore your girlfriend?”

 “How are you liking California so far?” 

“I love it here, it’s so much better than Hawkins! The people here are so cool and real. Back in Hawkins everyone feels like the same person”

That hurt like hell

Will has changed so much.

“How is life in Hawkins?” 

Life in Hawkins sucked without Will by Mike’s side.

Will didn’t seem to think that way though.

“It’s fine, I miss you guys though” Mike was grasping at anything he can to have a real conversion.

He just wanted Will to miss him too.

“Hawkins must be so boring without the crazy monsters” 

That's not what he wanted to hear.

And there are still monsters in Hawkins,

Mike being the monster.

“Yeah”

Mike couldn’t take it, he had to ask about Will’s girlfriend.

Just thinking about it sends goosebumps down his arms.

“So, tell me about you and Angela?”

The name hurt to say.

“I’m so glad you brought her up, I love her so much, she’s so kind and such a good person. She would never scream at me or blame me for anything” 

Mike could see as Will’s beautiful eyes looked towards him.

“He blames you”

“Plus she’s like so hot”

Mike wished he never heard that.

“Why don’t you think shes’ hot?”

Will looked down at this watch, “I need to go, bye” 

What, no

It was so early

They just started talking

“What, already?”

Will looks at his clock again

“Yeah, I gotta go see my girlfriend”

His stupid girlfriend. 

She wasn’t supposed to be with Will.

Mike was.

Mike loved Will and he couldn’t let him go this time.

“So you finally admit it, your messed up in the head”

“Your disgusting”

“He will never love you”

The tears start to form in the back of his eyes, he’s searching for any words that could possibly make Will stay. 

One seems to force its way out of his mouth.

“So you're just going to bail on me for some stupid girl!”

Mike has no time to take it back before Will shouts back

“Angela’s not stupid! It’s not my fault you don’t like girls! Even when you're with El we can all tell that you don’t love her like you love me!”’

Mike heart drops

Will knows

“We aren’t kids anymore! We aren’t going to spend the rest of our lives playing video games and DnD! We are going to grow up, Get married…”

“Reproduce and Die”

The tears were streaming down Mike’s face.

But that wasn’t Will

That was something else.

“Mike don’t you get it?”

Mike turned his head around, no one was there.

What was happening and why is no one moving? Who was talking?

Is this what happens when the love of your life rejects you?

“You hurt Will just like this”

“But that was real”

Everything seems to snap together all at once.

This isn’t real

Mike’s not in california

He’s in Hawkins

And he’s getting Vecna’d 

He’s going to die

“Yes Mike you will die”

“But it’s what you deserve”

Mike bolts for the front entrance, he feels his body being yanked and before he knows it he is slammed into the ground.

All the wind is knocked out of him while he desperately tries to hang onto something. 

He is slammed up against the wall

“I know what you really want”

“You want him, you want Will”

Mike feels his body being dropped.

He lands on the floor of his basement.

Mike doesn’t want it to end like this, he runs up the stairs searching for an exit.

In the back of his mind he was hoping his friends were coming to help.

“There not coming to save you, no one is”

Mike is shown a scene from his life, or more like a daydream,

Mike and Will are sitting on the couch, there watching a movie neither one of them are paying any attention too. There sitting there hand and hand, under a blanket. Mike leans over to plant a kiss on Will’s lip.

Even though Mike knew this wasn’t real he still got those stupid butterflies. 

Mike is struggling to free himself

Maybe he should just give up

They don’t need him anyways

No one needs him

He’s useless

“Yes Mike, you are useless”

“No one will ever need you”

“Not after what you’ve done”

“You hurt so many people just because you couldn’t face your own feeling’s”

“What kind of person are you?”

The tears roll down Mike’s face

He thinks of his family, his friends 

Of Will

He will never love Mike

It’s over, Mike’s done fighting

“It’s time Mike”

“Join us”

Mike lets his body go limp, his body is breaking and still all Mike can think about are those damn butterflies. 

[onth3cusp]

Shiny New Fanfiction: lună de lup (Subspecies)

The Scene: Radu returns to Romania and Castle Vladislas in the early 1990’s to kill his father and claim the throne. Stefan arrives fashionably late as usual, but fails to kill his older half brother…fleeing with his tail between his legs. Michelle and company don’t get their research grant approved so there’s no trip to Ye Olde Transylvania and they all live happily ever after. 

Welcome to this reimaging on how things might go for Radu if he never fell afoul of Michelle and spent a decade or so just chilling in his dad’s fortress. Alone. Until…

The hike up to the castle ruins took longer than she thought it would. Stopping in a bit of shade, Fia wiped the sweat off her brow and squinted up into the bright midday sky. Who knew it would be so hot in Romania this time of year? She’s stripped off her jacket hours ago and contemplated skimping down to her sports bra now - this far out in the woods there was no one to see her anyways.

According to the map she’d picked up in Prejmer, the castle was only an hour’s distance through the dense brush. Fia didn’t have the best sense of direction, but she was almost positive she’d been going the right way. Why hadn’t she reached it yet?

“A GPS would be awfully handy right now,” she groused, hoisting her backpack up onto her shoulder and continuing her trek. 

The stop in Prejmer wasn’t a planned one, but Fia found the town to be rather quaint. She’d spent the previous night in a little inn run by a very sweet married couple who spoke virtually no English and they’d managed most of their interaction via pantomime. Judging by how long it took for them to grasp that she wanted a room for only one night, Fia knew she’d never win a game of charades. 

Hence, she now had an English-Romanian pocket dictionary downloaded on her phone. It had been only marginally helpful in ordering a coffee at a cafe across the street from the Prejmer fortress. That place, on the other hand, had a plethora of guides that spoke passable English - and she quite enjoyed the tour she had been given of the incredible, ancient structure. 

Her guide that morning had been a willowy teenage girl who hadn’t been able to resist rolling her eyes just a bit when she got to the part about vampires. Until recently, Prejmer had even held an annual festival honoring the undead, something about the village making a truce with a vampire way back in the day. Her guide didn’t remember many of the details about the festival or the vampire, but assured Fia that one of the older guides could probably tell her more.

“They’re just silly stories, of course,” her guide laughed. “Let us go inside the church now. Please follow.”

Just silly stories. Fia snorted. The poor girl had no idea what kind of monster in sheep’s clothing she’d been entertaining. 

Finally, the lush trees gave way to a small stone arch that led out onto a grassy graveyard. The rotting remains of wooden crosses dotted the field and just beyond, the castle loomed. For a moment, Fia simply stood and took it in. There was nothing this picturesque back home.

Time hadn’t been kind to this castle. Much of the outer structure was crumbling and aggressive ivy climbed along one entire side, finding purchase on the rough stone. One lone tower remained, its red roof flaked and open in patches. Despite its dilapidated nature, there didn’t appear to be an easy way inside. 

That wasn’t a problem for Fia. As much as she would love the idea of stealth camping inside, the weather promised to hold out and a night under the stars wouldn’t be terrible if the temperature dropped a little. Still…

Exhausted, she dropped her backpack on the hill overlooking the graveyard and plopped down next to it. She could explore later, right now she desperately needed to rest her aching feet and catch her breath. 

The wind lifted wisps of caramel colored hair away from her face, carrying with it the fresh scents of spruce, fir, and beech from deep inside the forest. A deeper inhale brought the richness of the soil into her nostrils. The staleness of old bones buried deep reached her next.  Something else tickled her senses, something she couldn’t quite place. 

Fia exhaled it away. Strange places always smelled strange. Rather than dwell on it, it was time to explore the outside of Castle Vladislas and try to find a way inside. She followed an old footpath up past the main gate and into the castle courtyard, which was surrounded by crumbling stone. There were a few still standing structures that she ducked into, surprised by how much cooler they were compared to the heat of the sun outside.

“Well, now I have to get inside,” she mumbled. “Nature’s refrigeration. Beats sleeping outside in this heat…”

It took some stumbling around the backside of the castle before she found it. It was an ornate wooden door that looked to be in pretty good shape, but the rusty hinges it sat on had definitely seen better days. Cautiously, she pushed at the door. It did not budge. 

“Okay,” she said, dropping her pack. She rubbed her hands together and braced them against the door once more. “Please don’t break on me.” It was silly to plead with a door, but she could only hope the wood wouldn’t splinter as she heaved with significantly more force. The hinged protested but slowly gave with a loud squeal and the door swung inward marginally. 

Fia grinned. “Just a little more.” Once she had enough space to squeeze in, she stepped back and admired her work. No damage - at least, none that was visible. Her backpack was kicked inside first and then Fia slipped sideways into the cold, stone interior of Castle Vladislas.

Line break

Awareness came back to him quickly that night. Often it was slow, consciousness trickling back into him like water dripping down limestone, but not this night. Stiffly, he rose from his crypt and let a stale wheeze escape from unused lungs. 

Radu slid his body from the stone slab and scrambled upright onto ungainly limbs. Already, his thirst clawed at him and he ambled towards the long spiral staircase that would take him from crypt to the upper levels of the castle. There, in the throne room, the bloodstone awaited him.

It wasn’t long into his ascent before a wisp of panic slithered into his head and he tuned in to what his creatures were trying to communicate to him. It was a confusing jumble of observations but one rang clearly in his mind. Intruder. Girl. 

A grin curled the edges of his mouth. If his minions’ fears were true, there was a girl somewhere inside the castle. How long had it been since a mortal had wandered into his domain? He had tried to content himself with the bloodstone, but he longed for the chase. The hunt. Nothing could compare to the rush of hot blood against his tongue. 

Bloodstone forgotten, Radu climbed upwards with a new intention.

[bardofavon]

not to be controversial bc I know this is like…not in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if there’s a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formatting…I will also not be offended by having this pointed out…

‘looking forward to the next update’ and ‘I hope you update soon!’ are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.

‘I don’t usually like this ship but this fic made me feel something’ is also incredibly high praise. I’m not going to get mad at this.

even ‘I love this fic but I’m curious about why you made [x] choice’ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.

I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment that’s not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner they’re hoping to receive it in bad faith.

fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes it’s frustrating but it isn’t as though I can’t see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.

idk where I’m going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me I’m never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.

[iamanartichoke]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.

[introspectivememories]

was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-

[vantablackdraws]

real sleepy hours

bonuses:

[sanguinesmi1e]

A Round Door Like a Porthole, Lazarus Green Pt. 1 (you're here) Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Wayne Enterprises didn’t really need a small business specializing in “ecto-weapons” invented by self-purported ghost hunters, but S.T.A.R. Labs tipped Lucius Fox off that Lex Luthor was trying to buy an obscure little company in Illinois, and thwarting Luthor was always worthwhile. Now Tim just had to figure out what to do with all the equipment and the concerningly large arsenal of guns and things that looked like normal household items but seemed to have other, horrific purposes. He would have laughed at the way they slapped “Fenton” in front of every invention name (do ghost hunters really need a Fenton thermos? Won’t a normal thermos keep their coffee hot just as well? Are ghosts like trout, to be caught with a Fenton Ghost Fisher which just looks like a normal fishing rod but glow-in-the-dark. And what the fuck even is a Fenton Peeler!?), but he thought with some chagrin about the batarangs, batmobile, and everything else that had “bat” as a prefix in the batcave. 

However, of all the things Tim hadn’t expected to find when he flew out to do an inventory of assets after they bought the business sight-unseen, a portal generating a Lazarus Pit in gaseous form was probably at the top of his list. He didn’t even know that Lazarus water could change states from a liquid to a gas like that. Maybe there actually was something to the whole ghost thing. He supposed that it made sense for ghosts to exist, after all Deadman was part of Justice League Dark. Speaking of. . . he should see if Bruce could call in someone from JLD to assess things. He was feeling decidedly out of his depth.

John Constantine did not like to consult for mega corporations like Wayne Enterprises, but Batman had specifically requested he go check something out and he figured, where's the harm? 

There. 

There’s the harm. 

It turned out the “thing” he’d been called in to look at is a machine that can tear open a stable portal into the Infinite Realms. That is not something that should be possible. That is not something technology should be capable of achieving. That is definitely not something that should exist. Bloody hell, what had the Bats roped him into!?

This really should have been Zatana’s job. Or Deadman’s. Hell, Raven or Secret would be preferable. Because John would prefer not to be dealing with this. In fact, he would prefer to be back in literal Hell than deal with the crazy shit in the Infinite Realms. Could John handle demons, archangels, and even gods? Yeah. He can bind or exorcize most supernatural threats. Does that mean he relishes the idea of going toe to toe with heavy hitters from the Infinite Realms? Absolutely not. 

Some beings who lived there were just little blob ghosts made from ectoplasm and emotion. Some were the restless undead who could not or would not cross over to their afterlives. And some were the embodiments of concepts like nature, destructive weather, and dreams. He wasn’t sure where Death fit into the Realms, whether she ruled or visited, or if it was actually just an extension of her, but he didn’t really want to find out. There were many things John could defeat. Death wasn’t one of them. And now he was looking at a portal into a realm where the living were not meant to be. 

Danny hadn’t returned to Fenton Works since graduating high school. It turned out that he was less anxious when he was not living with people who fantasized about “tearing him apart molecule by molecule” and thought that discussing their plans to dissect him (although he maintained that it would be a vivisection since he’s only half dead) made for fascinating dinner conversation. Who would have thought that his constant stress, anxiety, and insomnia were caused by environmental factors? He’d been unpacking things with a very nice therapist his sister helped him find, and seen great improvements in his mental health. It really helped that she was dead too, and unlike Spectra she didn’t feed off the misery of her patients.

Danny hadn’t intended to ever return to Fenton Works, but when Jazz told him that Jack and Maddie sold their life's work to Wayne Enterprises and a multibillionaire playboy was about to have unfettered access to the Ghost Zone, he was. . . concerned. To say the least. And that was why he was in the middle of doing some light sabotage when Tim Drake-Wayne and a guy in a trenchcoat who reeked of cigarette smoke entered the basement lab. It’s why he was hiding under the Specter Speeder removing the ecto-engine, and there to overhear the conversation that followed.

“So, am I right in thinking that’s a Lazarus Pit?” Tim asked Constantine.

The older man stared at the portal, then at Tim, then at the portal for an uncomfortably long time. Then he pulled out a flask and drained half its contents before saying, “Yes and no. That is basically the same substance as the pits, but I think that this does something else entirely. It seems like this machine basically functions as a summoning circle, but instead of pulling one entity from one side to the other, this is just an open doorway that is perpetually pulling in anything or anyone who gets within its sphere of influence.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing, John.”

“It’s really not,” 

“So what does that mean, is it like a blown hatch in space causing rapid depressurization?” Tim felt a little ill at the thought. “What is it even pulling into our world?”

“No, no. Nothing so dramatic as that. It’s more like, hm, so the way summoning circles work is they invite or compel a specific entity to manifest, by basically making a one-way magical portal for them. This portal is kinda like an invitational summoning, which entices, but doesn’t force anyone to enter. Usually a summoning will have a purpose though, and the being you summon will be offered a deal. If this is doing what I think it is and pulling citizens of the Infinite Realms through and leaving them on this side without a contract or direction, they’re probably getting pretty frustrated and causing havoc. It’s like offering someone a job in another country so they have to get a visa and uproot everything, only to get off the plane and find an empty office, no housing, and no paycheck.” John lit up a cigarette and took a drag.

Tim wrinkled his nose, but knew from long experience that it wasn’t worth it to argue about American tobacco restrictions in the workplace with Constantine, especially while the man was doing him a favor. Also, the man looked like he really needed either a cigarette or another drink, and he’d prefer second hand smoke to a drunk sorcerer. “So then why hasn’t this town been overrun by these beings from the Infinite Realms?”

“Good question kid, but what I really want to know is how is this portal staying open? Really, how was it opened in the first place is the most pressing issue.” John mused.

Tim had already located the blueprints for the portal while waiting for Constantine, but either the Fentons had intentionally falsified the documents to seem plausible just long enough to make off with the money, or he just didn’t understand enough of the interaction between physics and the occult to comprehend how the portal could possibly function. 

He flipped back through the blueprints while the blond man sat cross legged in front of the swirling green portal and his low, distracted mutterings took on the cadence of a chant. The curl of smoke from his lit cigarette unfurled into some kind of spell array, and began to glow. Huh, maybe Tim shouldn't be too quick to judge him for tobacco misuse. Tim triple checked the flat file for any more information about the portal, and came up empty handed.

John, meanwhile, kept chanting as the magical array grew and spread to encompass the entire entrance to the portal. At last he stopped speaking and stood up, stepping back to double check his work. “Alright, Drake. You might wanna close your eyes for this one. It’s gonna be bright,” he said, popping his cigarette back between his lips. Then he stepped forward and blew a mouthful of smoke on the center of the array. The smoke caught against the softly glowing lines, pushing them until they floated back and collided with the nebulous green swirls and, despite Tim closing his eyes, flashed so incandescently white he could see them through his eyelids.

“OW! Fuck!!” John clutched his face, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’m doubling my consulting fee,” he grumbled under his breath.

“You alright?” Tim asked, blinking spots out of his vision.

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec.” He too was blinking now. “That was not supposed to be so bright.”

“I’m assuming it worked though.”

“It had bloody well better ’ave worked.” The older man squinted at the slightly dimmer lines which still shone painfully bright against the green. “Oh. Yeah, that worked. Fuck. . .”

“What?” Tim looked on in alarm as Constantine pressed a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh man. What wanker did you say created this portal?”

“Presumably Drs. Madeline and Jack Fenton. Why?” He drew the last syllable out skeptically. 

“Because, they opened this portal with a child sacrifice, and bound his death and all the lost life potential to their bloody machine to create a perpetual gateway to the Infinite Realms.”