#that was a joke dad PLEASE search it with caution

[rumblecrow]

Never shown my little guy artstyle here so-

Idk if Shenpai and RT ever collab before this skyblock challenge. But my god i love both of their interaction.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 | darren/pig x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 | since little babbas, it's been pig and runt, runt and pig-- king and queen of your own little world. you were happy with just that, but now that you're eighteen, pig wants more... more than you're prepared to give, it seems. and he's prepared to take it if he has to.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 | 4.6k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 | NONCON SMUT (18+ only; virginity loss, creampie/breeding, fingering, coercion and force, slapping, hair pulling), extreme creepiness/yandere vibes, innocent reader, niche irish accent/dialect so bear with me on the slang and such

(I tried to capture the spirit of the very unique dialogue style of the play/film, while still making it vaguely intelligible and hopefully keeping it from being too upsetting-- but this is definitely one of the weirdest things I've ever written. proceed with caution as always.)

You laid awake that night, thinking endlessly about how he’d kissed you.

Why’d he done that?  What’s he thinking?

You felt a little sick and a little dizzy every time you remembered it— it was just weird.  You’d never imagined kissing Pig— or Pig kissing you— even if other kids had been joking about it since you were wee.  Now that he’d gone and done it, pinning you to that wall and pressing his lips on yours (oddly sweet, for how hard his fingers dug into your arms), you wondered if it was what you should’ve expected.  You just assumed it would always be the two of you— Pig and Runt, King and Queen— but never pictured it changing.  But things change, don’t they?  Boys and girls become men and women, husbands and wives, dads and mams.  It’s just what happens.  But you never thought about it happening to you and Pig…

It played over and over in your mind: his cold eyes, his soft lips, his fast breaths against your face.  “Please, Runt?” he’d whispered, looking heartbroken and desperate like you’d never seen.  Begging you to let him kiss you, but he’d taken your first kiss and not even warned you— what were you supposed to do?

The same questions swirled in your mind when you heard the knock at your door the next day.  You knew it was him, and you knew that he knew that you knew it was him… 

“Lemme in, Runt,” he demanded from the other side, and you stood up and quickly opened the door.  He was leaning against the frame, looking down— like a little boy, ashamed and getting scolded.  He brushed past you and sat on your bed, and you shut the door.

“Pig,” you breathed, not sure what else to say.  A longer silence passed.

“Y’mad at me so,” he noticed, wringing his hands in his lap.

“No,” you denied with a sigh, sitting beside him on your bed.  “No, Pig— jus’ don’t understand… why’d you go an’ do that, then?”

“Ah,” he shrugged, looking away from you, “I-I told you already, think you’re pretty.”

But it wasn’t that, you knew it wasn’t only that.  “What you want, Pig?” you asked him quietly, and he looked at you again.  He smiled a little, his eyes looking you up and down quickly.

“Just a kiss, Runt,” he promised quietly.  “Only one.”

“Got one already,” you frowned as you crossed your arms.  “Stole it.”

He leaned in closer to you until you could feel his breath on your neck.  “Couldn’t help it,” he offered quietly, “m’sorry— just needed to kiss you.”

You turned and looked at him again, his face so close that you shivered a little.

“Should let me kiss you again,” he said, “see if y’like it this time, so.”

You hesitated, staring into his icy blue eyes.  “Think I will?” you wondered.

“Yeah, scared you before,” he said, “didn’t tell you nothin’ before I did it— that’s why you didn’t like it.  Try again, yeah?”

You bit your lip, seeing how he smiled at you— it didn’t match his eyes.  His smile was friendly and soft, but his eyes were darting back and forth between your own, anxiously searching them.  He wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he wanted you to think he was; he looked a little terrified.  It actually relieved you more than the cool-and-collected act did— you were terrified, too.  And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Please,” he whispered.  

The last thing you wanted was to hurt him, and you knew you would if you turned him down.  Nervously, you nodded, and the way he smiled at you warmed your heart.  He grabbed your face— gently, still— and pressed his lips to yours.  You tried to kiss him back this time, moving your lips slowly with his, and his thumb stroked your cheek as he tilted his head a bit more.

When he broke away a few moments later, he smiled at you with his face close to yours, and put two more pecks on your lips before finally letting go of your head.

“Love kissing you,” he mumbled, “taste so sweet, Runt…”

You smiled a little at the compliment.  “You taste like toothpaste,” you admitted with a giggle, and his cheeks got a bit pinker.

“Ah, Runt,” he cooed, “jus’ didn’t want you tastin’ my lunch— s’not what you want, is it?  To kiss me and taste Tayto crisps?”

You laughed and shook your head, while he pulled you closer and wrapped you up in his arms.  You shivered a little as he kissed the top of your head, inhaling deeply the scent of your hair.

He grabbed you by it suddenly, wrenching your head back and kissing you again— harder, and shoving his tongue into your mouth.  You moaned a little in shock and protest, but he just moaned back at you.

“Pig!” you managed to yelp out, muffled by his lips, and he hummed proudly.

“Need ya, Runt,” he groaned, letting go of your hair and starting to hold you tightly.  You whimpered as he kissed you so hungrily, unsure what to do or think.

“Jus’ a kiss, Pig,” you reminded him, but he groaned and started to hold your neck, moving his hand down to the collar of your t-shirt.  

“Jus’ a kiss,” he repeated, grabbing your shoulder painfully tight to keep you still as he started to kiss on your jaw.  “Jus’ a kiss, so— no more?”

“No, Pig,” you insisted, really thinking he would stop; but you both heard the whimpery moan that you let out when he kissed the very right spot on your neck…

“Oh,” he purred, moving his hand to tickle your chest again, “Runt like it— like the kisses?  Moan again all pretty, girl…”

You yelped and slapped his hand when it started to dip into your shirt, touching the edge of your bra.

“Eh!” he whined, backing away and shaking his hand out.  “What’cha slap Piggy hand for?”

“One kiss, you said!” you reminded him with a whine.

“Sorry, pal,” he laughed, “thought you liked it— way you moan an’ all…”

You bit your lip, because you couldn’t deny that it felt good— but the alarms in your head had gone off the second he touched under your shirt.  What did he have to do that for, if you were just kissing?

“S’okay if you’re scared,” he promised, “doesn’t mean we can’t—”

“Stop,” you said sharply, turning away a bit, needing more time to think.  You crossed your arms and turned away, and he slid closer to you on the bed.  

“Runt, I—”

“Stop talkin’, Pig,” you pleaded.  “Don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

He laughed nervously, looking away and then back at you; his hand came to rest on your arm.  “Pig never hurt Runt,” he promised.  “You’re my life.  I’d never hurt you.”

“Mine too,” you returned softly, meeting his gaze again.  It wasn’t really that you were afraid he would hurt you… it just made you feel strange.  “Don’t feel right, this,” you told him.

His smile fell, and he looked at you with the saddest eyes— you couldn’t take seeing them, so you looked down, but he reached and turned your chin so you’d look at him again.  “How’s it not feel right, us?” he wondered.  “King and Queen— s’always us, pal.”

“Eh, I know,” you breathed, “but… not like that.”

“Not like kiss?” he pressed, lowering his voice, his fingers dragging along your arm and down to yours, where he tickled your hand until you turned your palm up for him.  “Not like touch?”

A shaky sigh fell from your lips as his fingers tickled your hand.

“Not like…” he continued, whispering now, watching your face as you watched his hand, “fuck?”

He reached under your shirt suddenly and your hand instinctively raised to hit him again, but when it came down his other hand caught it harshly at the wrist.

“No slap,” he warned sharply.  “I’s only talking, Runt—”

“Talkin’ about a fuck!” you noticed with a frown.  “Pig, we can’t—!”

“Why not?  We grown,” he insisted.

“But… but we…” you mumbled, looking at him and losing your train of thought.

“Wanted you, Runt,” he admitted with a sigh as you looked at him.  “Wanted you so long…”

“You did?” you pressed nervously, and he must have confused your shyness for coyness, because he smirked and nodded before pulling you a little closer.

“Held your hand at night,” he whispered in your ear, “had the other one on m’cock, real tight…”

He smiled and licked his lips, but you pushed your legs together shyly.  He’d really been doing that while you were holding his hand?

“So pretty, Runt,” he praised softly, fingertips running up those clenched thighs, “prettiest girl there is, yeah?  Only girl worth looking at, I think— can’t be another but you, Runt, s’gotta be you.”

You looked away, unsure what to think or feel about that.  You’d never really thought about Pig being with any other girl, he’d certainly never shown interest in any— but did that mean you had to be with him?

He started to lift up the bottom of your shirt, and you jumped slightly as you tried to push his hands back down.  “Why don’t you let me see you?” he pouted.  “Used to have baths together.”

“When we was babbas,” you remembered, “s’different now.”

“Why’s it gotta be different?” he shrugged.

You never agreed to it, you just stopped fighting it— he lifted your shirt again, and you nervously let him take it off of you; a shiver passed over you from the slight chill in the room.  

“See?  Not so bad,” he said.  “Now the bra too—”

“Pig,” you whimpered, “feels weird.”

“I know,” he agreed, “but doesn’t it feel good, too?  Tingly, right between t’pretty legs?”

All these compliments only added to your confusion— because yes, it felt nice and sweet when Pig said such lovely things to you.  And he was right, too: his fingers tracing the edge of your bra did make a hot, strange feeling stir between your legs.  You didn’t want him to touch you there, really, but you also got the sense that if he did, it would help satisfy this sudden need for pressure.

“Show me how you take it off, Runt,” he insisted, and you shakily reached behind your back to unclasp the bra.

He sighed slightly when you opened it, but before you could slide the straps off, he reached up and held your shoulders.  Pushing you back (gently) onto the bed, he laid you on your back and hovered over you with the strangest, softest expression on his face; then he guided the straps down your arms, his breath catching as he exposed your chest to him.

It made your whole body break out into goosebumps when he stared at you like that, letting your bra fall on the floor.  He looked awestruck as he ran his hands up your stomach— your own breath picking up a bit as they got higher and higher— until he delicately reached your breasts, fingertips brushing against your nipples.

You almost whimpered but you bit your lip instead; his eyes were glued to them, cupping them in his hands and starting to squeeze a little more firmly.  He choked on nothing when he ran his thumbs over the tips and saw them get a little harder.  “Prettiest tits, Runt,” he groaned out his praise.  “Look so ready for Pig to lick them…”

He leaned forward and ran a wide, flat tongue over one bud as you moaned, then closed his lips around them.  You didn’t mean for your back to arch into it, or for your hand to come down and pet his hair— but you couldn’t help it.  The strangeness of all this had made them so sensitive, and every swirl of his tongue around your nipple made a pulse hit between your legs.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly as he moved from one to the other, looking up at you with bright and needy eyes.  You both were panting when he lifted himself up to look at you with a grin.  “Could suck on them for hours, Runt, if y’keep makin’ the pretty noises for me.”

He kept his mouth on one of them and held the other in his hand— but the second hand moved down your side, to your hip, to your shorts—

You clamped your legs together again, and he frowned as he pulled his mouth away from you.  “Open t’legs, Runt,” he whispered.  “Let me feel.”

You sighed a little, heart racing, and obeyed, hesitantly relaxing and spreading your legs.  His hand touched outside your shorts first, running over the fabric and cupping you through them.  “P-Pig,” you mumbled out as he pet you, his breaths heavy and uneven as he looked down and watched his hand move over you.

Shoving his hand in your shorts, he groaned as he cupped your heat in his palm, and you squirmed a little.  His fingers explored between your lips, groans escaping your throat before you could stop them.  This felt incredibly strange, being touched somewhere no one else ever had before, and you groaned a little as he seemed to be trying to feel everything until he could memorize it or something.

He swirled his fingertips around your opening, smiling proudly at the squelchy sound it made.  “You can hear it, Runt— ‘cause it wants me, see?  Little hole wants Pig in it.”

He slipped a finger in, making you bite your lip while his fell with a heavy sigh.

“Warm,” he said simply, his eyes looking a little darker as he felt inside you.

He pulled his finger out and brought it up to his face, taking a deep inhale beside the shiny digit as you bit your lip nervously.  

“Fuck, Runt, smells good,” he groaned.  “Smells fuckin’ good…”

He licked his finger next, humming at the taste.

“Wanted a taste for a while, yeah?” he admitted with a lower voice.  “D’ya ever think about it, Piggy licking your little cunt?  Thought about my tongue inside you?”

You shook your head, but he didn’t seem to believe you.

“Thought about it,” he informed you— obviously.  “Wanked and thought about it, sweet little Runt sitting on my face; making you come, kissin’ you there.  An’ thought about you tasting me, too— pretty lips on my cock, that sweet tongue…”

Gasping, you looked away; you shuddered as he started to kiss your neck, and you reached up to push him away but ended up just holding onto his shoulders when his tongue tickled your pulse.

You whined loudly when he reached into your shorts again and slipped two fingers into you— the stretch stung and made your hips jerk.

“Too much, Pig!” you told him, trying to push his hand away.

“Too much?” he repeated with a laugh.  “How’s the cock gonna fit if the finger’s too big?”

The hand trying to stop him ended up just holding his wrist as he curled his fingers inside you, making your legs shake completely on their own.  

You were a bit relieved and disappointed at once as he took his fingers out of your shorts, but then you sat up and tried to jump away when he hooked both hands into the shorts to try to pull them down.  “What’s wrong, then?” he asked.

“D-don’t want you to see,” you mumbled.

“Already touched, Runt, lemme see now,” he insisted, but you moved your hips away again with a pout.  “Okay,” he relented, and for a second you thought that meant he’d stop making you do all these things, but then his hand moved to start opening his jeans, “I’ll show you first— to make it fair, so.”

You instantly shut your eyes tight when you caught a glimpse of it, the big white thing he pulled out in front of you; but then you found yourself looking, like you couldn’t help it, out of morbid curiosity.  And then you just felt even more terrified, because of how thick it was, how it flexed in his hand as he held it tightly, how there was a little drop of clear liquid leaking from the tip…

“I—” you stammered, not even sure yourself what you were going to say, but he interrupted you.

“Touch it, Runt,” he whispered, somewhere between a plea and a demand.  “Touch how hard…”

You shuddered as you brushed your fingers over him and the silky smooth skin of his cock, feeling empty and hollow— you couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were touching Pig there… 

“Do you think it’s gonna fit, Runt?” he taunted softly.  “Do you think little cunt’s gonna hurt with the big cock in it?”

“Pig, maybe not today…” you suggested weakly, overwhelmed by what you’d already done without even imagining what was next.  “Maybe wait—”

“Wait, eh?” he frowned.  “Mean girl, makin’ Pig wait so long an’ then some more— gettin’ the boy hard like that and wantin’ to stop now—”

“M’not ready,” you tried to explain, but he kept going, snarling at you as his anger grew.

“Little tease!” he accused.  “Lettin’ me kiss you an’ all that— touch you an’ suck the little buds, all lyin’ to me that I could have you— you’re lyin’!  Thought we’s pals, Runt.”

“Pals, yeah!” you agreed.  “Forever!  But—”

“Then let me feel,” he demanded.  “Let me be inside… s’jokin’ earlier, it won’t hurt you.  Pig never hurt Runt.”

You whined and looked away, and Pig put his face right by yours, breathing warmly onto your neck.

“Never,” he swore again.  “I can make you feel good.  Promise.  It feels good, Runt… s’good to have the cock inside, for both.  If you don’t like, we stop.”

“Okay,” you blurted out.  “Okay, Pig… we can try.”

He smiled and sat back between your legs, pulling your shorts and panties down and biting his lip as he touched again with a full view this time.  “S’pretty, Runt,” he praised quietly, spreading you with his fingers as he examined you.

You tried not to resist, hoping to force yourself to relax, but you couldn’t help but jump when you felt his cock press against your wet lower lips.  “Don’t squirm, Runt, s’gonna feel good,” he promised, laying down on top of you and hovering above you.

“Scared, Pig,” you admitted with a little whine, and he smiled at you as he kissed your cheek.

“Won’t be so bad, yeah,” he assured quietly.  “S’posed to happen.  Boys and girls do this— it’s what we do, okay?  S’posed to be like this— me and you, man and woman.  And it’s so wet, Runt— you want me.”

Before you could decide if you agreed with that, he looked down and lined himself up to your opening.  He sighed heavily as he plunged the swollen head into you, a totally new expression falling over his face as he looked down at you.  “Ah, Runt, s’fuckin warm,” he groaned, pushing in another inch; you whined and tried to move your hips away, but he held them down as his mouth fell wide open with gasps.  He watched himself do it, too— he watched the way his cock split you, even using his thumb to tug up on your clit to get a better view.

He moaned loudest when he was all the way inside, his hips flush with yours, your aching body suddenly covered in goosebumps.

“Feel it?” he grunted.  “Feel how it fits just right?  See?  S’meant to be me an’ you, Runt.”

Just right isn’t quite how you would’ve described it, not with this stinging pain inside like he was tearing you open.  You could’ve maybe gotten used to it easier if he’d just stayed still, but he started thrusting right in as soon as he’d slipped inside— you tried to reach down to grab his hip, a chance to slow him down, but he grabbed you at the wrist and pinned your hands down.  “P-Pig,” you choked out, “you’re hurting me—”

“Shh,” he breathed, “s’not gonna hurt if you give it a minute.  Fuck, Runt, y’feel that?  It’s so good, Runt… such a good, wet hole…”

You started to sob then, but he ignored it.  “Said you’d never hurt me,” you reminded him— but he only heard what he wanted.

“So big, I know,” he said proudly, pulling back enough to look down at the sight of himself inside you.  “Look’it that,” he groaned, “all that sticky juice, soakin’ my cock, you’re such a good girl for me now, yeah?  Runt be good for Pig…”

Another whine jumped from your throat as he moved faster, the sound of skin hitting skin beginning to fill your room.  

“Ah, fuck, Runt,” he moaned louder, “s’fuckin’ tight… saved it for me, wanted me to be the one to break it in, yeah?  Needed my cock to open y’up, I know it— ah, needed Pig’s cock, didn’t ya?  Wanted to beg for it all sweet-like?  Pig, need your cock— fuck me, Pig— say it like that.”

“No,” you whimpered, whining as he squeezed your wrists harder.

“Say how I told you,” he demanded.

You shivered a little, trying to find the courage to say something like that; it came out as a shaky, tense whisper.  “F-fuck me,” you begged under your breath, and he growled before kissing your neck messily.  His thrusts got a bit faster and rougher— and deeper, which you hadn’t even realized was really an option since it never seemed like he was holding back before.

“Dirty little Runt, needs a mean fuck,” he grinned.  “Wants it hard.  But m’gonna be nice with you— make it all sweet for the pretty Runt.”

One hand moved to hold tightly onto your hip— too tight, really, enough to bruise— and he changed the way he moved inside you: a bit faster yet again and somehow more tender, more intentional.  You moaned before you could stop yourself, the crying suddenly stopping, as a different angle making his cock’s fat tip rub against some little spot inside you… it still felt horribly strange, having Pig on top of you and inside of you, but there was a sense of satisfaction building with it as well.

“Nobody else ever gonna touch you, Runt,” he informed you with a heavy sigh.  “Nobody gonna touch the Runt but Pig— nobody else get to see the pretty tits, nobody else get to feel inside.  It’s all just for me.”

He purred when he noticed the way your face relaxed and your body went a bit limp; you felt warm all over, especially where he filled you, and the pain was gone— at least, the physical pain.  Your head still hurt with confusion and shame.

“See?” he smiled wide— impossibly wide— as you shuddered under him.  “So good, Runt— y’like it, hm?  Pig’s cock in you, you like it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you panted, whimpering as he fucked you a little more desperately now, not quite as patient as before.  “Yeah— feels good…”

“How it’s supposed to be,” he insisted again, losing his smile to a series of heavy breaths and moans.  “How it’s gotta be, Runt— gotta be me and you, King and Queen, an’ m’gonna be inside you when I want.”

You shuddered, already overwhelmed by this, let alone a standing order to be fucked whenever he wanted it.

“Such a pretty hole,” he groaned, holding onto your shoulders to keep you steady as he rocked his hips faster.  “Can’t wait to fill it up…”

Your eyes went wide when you realized what he meant by that.  “N-no, Pig!” you choked out.  “Can’t get the spunk inside—”

“Shut it,” he snapped, covering your mouth with his hand, “s’gotta be inside, Runt, needa fill your hole.  Needa see it drip out, yeah?  Gonna watch all my come run out the little cunt…”

Your muffled whimpers just spurred him on more, his teeth bared as he growled by your ear.

“Give Runt the seed, yeah?” he grunted, fucking you harder.  “Fill the needy fuckin’ hole— s’wet ‘cause it needs it.  You need me.”

He took his hand off your mouth again to indulge himself in your terrified whining, pinning your flailing arms down instead and moaning as he licked and sucked on your neck.

“Wanna be pregnant, Runt?  Wanna babe?”

“No, Pig!” you cried in response.  “C’mon, Pig, please— jus’ pull out!”

“Mm,” he considered it, “but our little babe would be so cute, Runt— your eyes an’ my nose, haven’t you thought about it?  Me an’ you, mum and dad?  Sort of funny, don’t you think?”

He laughed— how could he laugh at a time like this?!

“Tell me you wan’ it inside, Runt,” he demanded.  “Say it!  Say you wan’ all Pig’s spunk inside!”

“I—” you began, hesitating, and he slapped your face as you yelped.

“Say it!”

“F-fuck, wan’ it inside, Pig!” you begged as you cried.  “Come in me, Pig, just come, please— just come and be done, please—”

“Shh, shh,” he hissed, shutting his eyes tight as his hips moved faster.  “Ah, fuck, can’t wait anymore… m’coming, Runt—”

He gasped loudly and held your hips too tightly as he pushed himself as deep as he could go.  Your eyes and mouth open, you simply looked up at the ceiling, paralyzed and speechless as he groaned and spasmed a bit. 

“We one now,” he whispered to you, kissing the side of your face.  “Man and woman.”

You could only blink numbly as he sat up enough to look down at you, his face hovering too close above yours.

“I think Runt like it,” he grinned, cooing as a tear ran down your temple— he swiped it up with his thumb and licked it up.  “Why cry?”

You sniffled and finally managed to wrench your wrist out from his grip, but you couldn’t do anything with it, so you just brought it nervously to cover your chest.  “Y’hurt me, Piggy…”

“Aw,” he pouted at you, laying a little more of his weight on you, “jus’ ‘cause it’s the first, Runt.  Next time be sweeter, yeah?  Easier.  Little pussy opened up an’ ready now.”

He gently pulled his hips back, sighing as he slipped his cock out of you, and you winced.  He scooted himself down and put his face right close between your legs, making you try to close your thighs together— but he just held them open and used his thumb to pull your lips apart more.

“Ah, shit,” he frowned, “s’too deep, hasn’t run out yet.  Can y’push it out, Runt?  So I can see?”

“S-stop lookin’ at it, Pig,” you whimpered a little, feeling self-conscious about his face so close to you there…

“But s’pretty,” he giggled quietly.  “C’mon, Runt, just push so Pig can see all the spunk come out.”

Though your face had never felt so warm and you cringed at the request, you pushed just once and felt a warm trickle run down from your hole to the seam of your ass.

“Oh,” he breathed.  “Prettiest thing, that is.  Runt full’a Pig, all the seed pourin’ out…”

He dragged two fingers up through the sticky path down from your pussy, pushing the come back into you as you whimpered from both the soreness and the fear of what might happen now that he’d done that to you.

While your body shivered helplessly and your mind raced with thoughts, all you could do was lay there and blink at the ceiling as he laid down beside you.  He hummed as he pulled you into a tight hug.  “Love ya, Runt,” he whispered, smiling still.  “You’re my life.  It’s us now, yeah?  King and Queen…”

He laughed, in a giddy sort of way, and held you even closer as he buried his face in your neck.

“King and Queen,” he repeated, “forever and ever and ever, yeah…?”

[thebettybook]

💙 Earth to Optimus? Somebot’s got a crush 💙

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Characters: TFA Optimus Prime x human!fem!reader. Other characters mentioned are Sari Sumdac, Ratchet, Prowl, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee.

Synopsis: Fluff headcanons of TFA Optimus Prime having a crush on you with him being a hopeless, utter romantic + mini scenarios of Team Prime finding out about his crush on you

Warning: Reader is mentioned to get a teeny paper cut that Optimus fusses over. Other than that, all fluff, enjoy~

Strawbetty’s note: First official post for TFA Optimus Prime! I love him :’) (he’s just so kissable) (also we’re not gonna question why I wanna kiss a robot alien)

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

💙 When it comes to romance, Optimus Prime is truly a hopeless romantic. Everything, from the faintest of song lyrics to even the smallest of petals from your favorite flowers, reminds him of you.

💙 Every time Optimus comes home to the base from patrol, he always brings back your favorite snacks or flowers that he bought at the local flower shop Detroit Daisies. By now, he’s good friends with the elderly lady who runs the flower shop and at this point she can’t wait for Optimus to confess to you already.

💙 Optimus is also pretty traditional. Since he doesn’t have much experience in the romance department, he goes by what he knows best: the book. Even though he doesn’t fully understand human customs, he does extensive research and courts you with your favorite things.

💙 However, romantic feelings sometimes encourage one to follow their instincts and throw caution to the wind. While he could read every book on Earth or search through every Internet database on how to act around a crush, Optimus knows deep down in his spark that he just wants to continue being himself around you. Especially since you make him feel so safe in doing so.

💙 Optimus is always the first to open doors for you and offers to drive you to places (and he’s been doing this even before he realized he had a crush on you). He’s a gentlebot through and through. Truly the bot next door. One could argue that he’s the eligible bachelor of Cybertron.

💙 Optimus will also show the sides of him to you that he doesn’t show much to anyone—the more goofy and dorky sides of him. He cracks a lot of jokes only you and him find funny, while Sari and Bumblebee just groan at his attempts at dad jokes.

💙 The leader of Team Prime is usually good at keeping his cool, and while Optimus feels safe to be himself around you, having a crush on you feels like he’s keeping a secret from you. And one thing to know about Optimus Prime is that he is terrible at lying and keeping secrets. Thus, he can be super shy when he’s around you sometimes despite the two of you already being close.

💙 He trips over his words and his stabilizing servos whenever he’s around you because you look so beautiful to him just by simply existing. It doesn’t take long before everyone on the team (Sari first, Ratchet second, Prowl third, Bulkhead fourth, and Bumblebee dead last) figures out that Optimus has a crush on you.

💙 Sari knew from the way Optimus would ask her more questions, such as when he came into her room at the base to ask her this: “Sari, could you…what’s that word again? Ah, Google. Could you please Google ‘How to play it cool around your crush’ for me?”.

💙 The young girl comically crossed her arms and grinned like a cat who swallowed a bird. “Why do you wanna know?” Sari had an inkling as to who Optimus’s crush could be—you. “Is this about Y/N?”.

💙 Her second question was enough to make Optimus heat up from the tip of his audio fins to the cheeks of his faceplate. The leader of Team Prime, despite his large frame, backed out of Sari’s room quicker than Bumblebee on the road and with repeated “Nope! Not at all!”’s. Sari snickered; maybe she could meddle later.

💙 Ratchet figured it out when Optimus rushed you to the med bay simply because you got a teeny paper cut on your finger from turning a page of a book you were reading. The older bot grumbled at Optimus for fussing over a paper cut, while you reassured Optimus that you were fine.

💙 Ratchet handed a bandage to you, raising his optical ridge when Optimus still towered over you in the med bay. Optimus watched as you simply wrapped the bandage (a pink Hello Kitty one, Sari’s favorite kind of bandages) over your teeny finger cut. When you placed a hand on Optimus’s servo and thanked him for worrying about you, Ratchet saw Optimus’s flustered expression and lit-up faceplate as clear as day. Oh, for Primus’s sake, he’s got what the humans call a “crush.” Ratchet rolled his optics despite a small smile growing on his own faceplate.

💙 Prowl, who loved to study human life and customs, also learned about human romance customs. He noted the way Optimus’s optics lingered on you if only for the teeniest of cycles, or the way Optimus would talk about something random you did that he found cute during his patrols with Prowl. Optimus’s optics and tone whenever he talked about you always conveyed what Prowl identified from what he saw from human romantic partners as yearning for something more than just being friends.

💙 Bulkhead found out when Optimus went to him for advice on which human movies to watch with you. Optimus listed a bunch of romance movies, from Titanic to Grease. Bulkhead told Optimus that Grease is a classic, and Titanic could make one cry for hours. Optimus took literal notes from Bulkhead’s advice. Bulkhead, ever the sensitive artist, scratched the back of his helm, wondering why Optimus was only listing romance movies to watch with you…UNLESS….

💙 Bumblebee, munching on his energon chips one Friday night, was oblivious, not even batting an optic when you and Optimus softly sang “Hopelessly Devoted to You” while watching Grease together in the living room. Optimus gazed down at you the entire time while singing the lyrics, his optics conveying his hopeless devotion to you, while your eyes were fixed on the screen.

💙 Bumblebee, who was talking about some upcoming car race with Sari, Bulkhead, Prowl, and Ratchet in the kitchen, finally noticed that all of their attention was fixed at the back of your head and Optimus’s helm. Bumblebee also noted the knowing smiles and smirks on their faces.

💙 “What? Why’s everyone staring at Y/N and Optimus?” The younger bot waved a servo in front of Prowl’s face.

💙 Prowl simply took Bumblebee’s servo in his and guided Bumblebee’s servo to the direction of you and Optimus. “Take a look, Bumblebee, and tell me what you see.”

💙 You and Optimus erupted into laughter at a scene in the movie before the two of you snuggled closer together. “Uhhh, I see Boss Bot and Y/N watching a movie together like they usually do?” Bumblebee raised an optical ridge.

💙 Sari shook her head, her crimson pigtails swishing from side to side. She raised her arms, and Bumblebee picked her up to let her sit on his shoulder. “If you look closely, you’ll notice that somebot has a crush?”

💙 Bumblebee narrowed his optics in concentration, before turning his optics back to Sari. “Who, Ratchet?”.

💙 “No, Prime does!” The older bot groaned. “Prime has a crush on Y/N! Tch, young bots these days are so clueless.”

💙 Before Bumblebee could let out an “Ohhhhh” of realization, Optimus interrupted him as he came up to the kitchen to fetch a snack for you. “I have a what on Y/N?” The team could practically see the hearts in Optimus’s optics.

💙 “You have a crush on Y/N,” Sari answered, all smug. “I figured it out first. Don’t worry, we won’t tell.”

💙 “Yeah, we won’t tell!” Bulkhead made a show of zipping his mouthplate and locking it with an imaginary key.

💙 Optimus wasn’t listening, simply grabbing your snack off the counter as if by nature and turning his back to the team to stumble back into the living room and rejoin you. “I…have a crush on Y/N,” Optimus’s voice trailed off, his smile adding to his lovesick daze.

💙 “Earth to Optimus?” Bumblebee called after him, before scratching the back of his helm and lowering his voice to whisper to the rest of the team. “Dang, somebot’s got a crush!” The latter sentence earned Bumblebee a collective eye roll from Sari, Bulkhead, Prowl, and Ratchet.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :). Check out my TFA masterlist

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[only10th]

Todays thoughts!

Wangxian meeting at the mall, single mom wwx shopping for some clothes with his little radish.

Wei Ying had gone to the mall cause he needed to buy a nice outfit for a date he did not want to go to, but of course his shijie was the one to set it up for him. Something about being time for him to put himself out there, find someone to take care of him as much as he takes care of his son. He, of course, insisted that he was fine fairing on his own. If anything, the reason why Wei Ying didn't want to date at all is more of finding someone that would put the same love and dedication to A-Yuan as he does.

And he knows, from experience, that's hard if not impossible to find.

So cut to a very stressed and distracted Wei Ying looking through clothes while his son played hide and seek in the racks of clothes. He'd been making sure to see A-Yuan popping his head out through the clothesline with a bright smile that matches his own, every so often calling out to him if he noticed he was taking too long to pop out. At least one of them was having fun. This was the third clothing store he visited, and the frustration of not finding anything remotely nice, or something that matched his style, was taking its toll. At the end, he sighs with exasperation. He'll just have to call his sister and tell her that he's sick, or something.

"A-Yuan, come out. We're leaving." There's no response, "A-Yuan, did you hear me?"

His brows dip with concern, it did get too quiet at some point. The giggling and the scraping of the hangers had come to a stop without him noticing. "Mister, if you're playing a joke on your poor A-Niang we won't get ice cream." He mumbles as he looks through the rack, moving the clothes around in mild panic. A-Yuan is nowhere to be found.

Wei Ying is practically panicking at this point, frantically searching for his son, practically yelling his name. He's on the verge of tears as he passes the rows and rows of racks and fixtures. All logic and reason are thrown out the window. There's no way.. there's no way he lost A-Yuan. He's always paid attention, always told him to stay by his side no matter what. What the hell is he going to do? The worst scenarios start crossing through his mind, but he keeps searching. A-Yuan knows to stay put if he ever gets separated from Wei Ying, he knows to not talk to strangers but he's only a toddler. Anything can happen.

“A-Yuan! Where are you?!” Wei Ying calls as he jogs through the store.

~~~~

Cut to A-Yuan staring wide eye at a tall guy with honey eyes. They're both having a staring contest at this point. That’s not his A-Nian, A-Yuan thinks to himself.

"Hello?" Lan Zhan says with caution. When did this child get here?

The child pursed his lips, slowly retreating into the rack with blue sweaters he was browsing through. "I-I’m not supposed to talk to strangers."

Lan Zhan blinks, staying quiet before nodding in approval. The toddler's parents are smart. He should probably alert security, he looks around in search of security or a staff member. As soon as he spots someone, he starts to walk away to try and get their attention but a small hand takes a tight grip on his light cream trousers.

"W-Wait! Mister— My a-niang told me to stay put if I ever get separated... A-niang will find me soon. Please, don't go."

Scared pleading eyes stare at him, the man seems to think through it for a moment. The smart thing to do would be to report the missing child. But at the same time, he's not sure how he would handle the situation if the toddler were to start crying.

"Alright.” He agrees with a nod. Though, the toddler doesn't let go of his trousers for a moment. At least he looks somewhat more calm. "We'll wait for your mother together."

Not a moment later, Wei Ying runs past them, yelling A-Yuan's name. At first, Lan Zhan looks at him with confusion. The child didn't say anything about his dad looking for him, so instinctively he shields and conceals the toddler. You can never be too safe, he knows people can put any sort of act just to take a child away. However, the toddler scrambled past Lan Zhan's legs and shouts, “A-Niang!"

Wei Ying skids to a stop, whipping his head towards the sound of his son's voice. Relief floods through his body as he falls to his knees and hugs his toddler, so glad that he's safe and sound. At first he doesn't notice the man who had stayed with his son because he's too busy peppering kisses to A-Yuan's chubby cheeks and mumbling "Don't ever scare me like that again!" And “We've talked about this, don't leave my side."

While this exchange is happening, Lan Zhan Is just thinking. The man... that drop dead gorgeous man was the toddler's mother?

A-Yuan clings to Wei Ying's neck, rubbing his face on his cheek, “A-Yuan is sorry, A-niang. Please don't be mad."

The puppy eyes win Wei Ying over and he can't be mad anymore. Silver eyes quickly scan his child, making sure there’s no injuries. He hugs his little radish once more, only then is when he notices the man watching the whole scene, and he can tell he's kinda not knowing what to do with himself.

"Um... can I help you?" Wei Ying asks a little defensive while hugging his son closer.

Before the man can utter an answer, A-Yuan beams with excitement. “That gege helped A-Yuan wait for A-niang!"

“Oh. Is that so?" He says, silver eyes softening and shoulders letting the tension leave.

"Mn. My name is Lan Zhan." He introduced himself and woah, how could Wei Ying not notice how handsome this man was.

“Thank you, Lan Zhan, for keeping an eye on my son. I really don't know how to repay you…”

"A-niang, is this the gege you're meeting later?" The toddler looked at Lan Zhan with hopeful eyes. "Gege taking my a-niang to dinner?"

Wei Ying quickly gets all embarrassed, cheeks flushed red like the ribbon holding his long hair in a ponytail. “Aiya, aiya! Stop bothering the nice gege! I'm sure he has many things to do."

"But!” A-Yuan begins to protest with a pout.

"No buts." Wei Ying picks A-Yuan in his arms, letting some of his weight rest on his hip. Silver eyes meet honey ones. “Thank you, again. I-I gotta get going."

And Lan Zhan can only watch the pair walking away, saying something about "I told you to call me a-niang at home and baba out here." And "I'm never leaving you out of my sight again. You gave me a heart attack.”

He’s sure he hears the child, A-Yuan, mumble “But I like that gege…”

Lan Zhan turns around, shaking his head before continuing his shopping. His chest aches a bit cause he just met the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on... It's childish, but he can't help but quietly sulk because he was in fact thinking of asking him out but... it looks like someone had beaten him to it. Wait, he didn't even get his name. He sulks even more.

~~~~~

Back in Wei Ying's home, he was getting ready for his date. It shouldn't be too late to cancel, right?

“You look dashing!” His sister compliments with a soft clap. “Come now, don’t make that face.”

“Jie, I don’t know this man… What if he doesn’t like A-Yuan? What if he’s secretly an asshole?” Anxiety was clear in his voice, though it was quickly soothed when Jiang Yanli walked over and fixed the collar of his burgundy button up.

“You doubt your A-Jie will pick a good man for you?” She teases with a thin eyebrow raising in question.

“Not you… I don’t trust A-Sang.” He side-eyes his friend, who is sitting on the couch making faces to his baby nephew. “Are you sure it’s not too late to cancel?”

“A-Ying, you need this. I promise it’ll be good for you.” His sister reassures, gently patting his shoulders. She smiles softly at her younger brother. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” He reassures her

She chuckles, patting the top of his hand. “You know what I mean. YingYing, are you sure you don’t want me to watch over A-Yuan?”

“Nuh-huh, if I’m meeting this guy then he’s meeting a-yuan too. If he doesn’t love him then I won’t even give him a chance!”

“A-Ying.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Jie. Now, tell me A-Yuan doesn’t look like the most adorable gentleman you’ve ever seen.” Wei Ying coos as his son walks into the living room wearing a t-shirt with the print of a tuxedo. He picks him up and peppers his cheeks with many kisses.

Soon, they’re both arriving at the restaurant. At least the guy he’s meeting has good taste. Before they step in, Wei Ying sets down his son, going through the motions of fixing his clothes. “If you don’t like the guy, we’ll leave as soon as you want, okay? No one can pull my attention from my little radish.”

A-Yuan nods, and with that they both walked into the bustling restaurant. Wei Ying couldn’t help but to feel irritated at bit his sister and best friend. What the hell did Nei Huaisang mean that I’ll know when I see him? Would’ve been better if he just showed me a picture. He thinks to himself while rolling his eyes. Though, he couldn’t deny he was extremely nervous to meet this mystery guy that he had been set up with.

“A-Niang, look! It’s the nice gege from earlier!”

Wei Ying is quick to follow his son’s line of sight, and there he was. Lan Zhan sat at a tsks closer to the window, dressed up in a light blue suit with a light cream shirt. He knew Lan Zhan was handsome, but to see him in a suit? How the sleeves seemed hug his arms just tight enough to let you know the man works out. Before he knew it, Wei Ying was being tugged towards Lan Zhan’s table. “Hey, hey! Baobei let’s not bother the nice gege, he’s probably waiting for someone.” He tried to whisper, tugging his son the other way but they were already spotted.

“Gege! Hi gege!” A-Yuan chimes as Lan Zhan stands from his chair. Was he always this tall?

“Hi, Lan Zhan. What a coincidence! A-Are you here by yourself, or…”

He can see golden eyes scanning him up and down before landing back on his face. He can’t help but shift in place at the intensity of Lan Zhan’s gaze. “I am waiting for someone.” Lan Zhan responds quietly, gaze still on Wei Ying.

“Oh… Me too!” He’s quick to add before chuckling, “Well, you already knew that… A-Are you waiting for a date?”

Lan Zhan seems to consider his answer, and Wei Ying can’t help but to find it amusing at how deflated and defeated the other looks when he responds with a quiet “Yes.”

Wei Ying laughs once more, “Not really looking forward to it? I get it, my sister and best friend set me up for mine. I don’t even know who I’m supposed to meet! Can you believe they refused to give me his name? Or even show me a picture? They really took the definition of ‘blind date’ way too serious.”

Lan Zhan stares at him wide eye, and for a moment Wei Ying thinks he said something wrong. “No offense to whoever you’re meeting, of course! I bet they’re—“

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan takes a step closer towards him, but he doesn’t see himself taking a step back.

Brows furrow, “Yeah? Do… Do I have something on my face?”

“I’m meeting with Wei Ying… You are Wei Ying.”

The father can only look at the other in bewilderment, was… was Lan Zhan his blind date? No, this was to good to be true. A guy like Lan Zhan… he could have anyone, the man looked like a god! “Who set you up?” He decided to ask, if he’s says ut was Nei Huaisang then he really was having a date with Lan Zhan. There were no other Wei Ying’s around, not that he knows of.

Wei Ying can tell Lan Zhan is having the same train of thought. “My brother… He was convinced by a family friend that I should… attempt to meet new people.”

“Was it Nie Huaisang? Oh my god! That asshole set everything up!” Wei Ying exclaims once Lan Zhan confirms his suspicions, hands brushing the already messy bangs from his face, a loud laugh echoing through the restaurant. He winced, tho, when people enjoying their food shoot a glare at him. “I can’t believe this…Wait, if you knew my name, why didn’t you say anything earlier.”

Lan Zhan pressed his lips together before answering. “You did not give me your name.”

“Oh— I… Huh, I was really distracted. It would’ve made things easier for the both of us, huh?” Wei Ying smiles at him. “Well… mind if we join you, then? My treat, since you were my hero earlier and I must repay your kindness and patience!”

“Are we having dinner with the nice gege??” A-Yuan suddenly chimes, wide eyes darting between the two adults. Wei Ying smiles as he ruffles his hair.

“We sure are!”

“I knew it! The Nice gege is taking my a-niang for dinner!” The toddler soon clings to Lan Zhan’s leg, which caught him off guard.

“Aiya, A-Yuan! Where are your manners?” Wei Ying chides playfully, attempting to pull his son back to his side.

“I do not mind.” Lan Zhan responds with a smile ghosting over his lips.

The three of them sit at the table. Wei Ying talks away about anything and everything, and Lan Zhan pays full attention to every single word, attention unflinching. It especially melts his heart when Lan Zhan gives the same type of attention to A-Yuan, listening with much seriousness to all the stories he has to tell. He looks at both of them with so much fondness that he feels his heart bursting at the seams. Yeah… it was good he decided to not cancel the date.

[huds-hub]

Asgorudy Week, Day 1: Valentine's Day

Hey look, it's a fic! I'm doing the days out of order because I'm a BOSS! Also, posting it on my hub account since the place with all my Rudy writing, @reindeer-dad, is currently hidden from search results -.- Tagging @djdrawings, host of Asgorudy Week!

Summary: Asgore takes Rudy on a road trip for Valentine's Day evening and a trip down memory lane. Word count: ~1150 Author's Note: This fic is less focused on romance and more on the banter between Asgore and Rudy, from Asgore's perspective. But they're still cute together. Cute and in love. <3

Valentine's dinner was a nice, quiet meal in Rudy's apartment. Nothing too out of the ordinary from their usual date nights, unless you count the pink tablecloth and a simple candelabra decorating the dining table along with their plates of casserole.

Notably, there was no wine. Asgore had to stay sober to drive Rudy for a surprise Valentine's Day trip.

Gorey gently pulled Rudy's arm before he could take a step outside the apartment building. "Let me put this on you first," he said, slipping a bandana above Rudy's antlers and wrapping it over his eyes.

"Never thought of the day you'd bust out a blindfold," Rudy playfully chirped as he adjusted the bandana to snugly rest under his protruding ears.

"Was that a wink I heard?" he teased.

"Got super-hearing too? Cuz I definitely heard that eyeroll!"

They both laughed. Asgore gingerly tucked Rudy's arm under his own and lead him out to his truck.

Was it excessive to deprive Rudolph of sight before driving off? Definitely. But Gorey didn't want to risk the other man peering into the bed of his truck. There, he’d spot the rolled-up air mattress and thick blanket, a dead give-away to what he wanted to surprise his boyfriend.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Asgore asked, not raising his hand at all.

"Twenty."

"Golly!" His laughter rippled. "That was close, sweetheart. But, unfortunately, no cigar."

"Good thing we don't smoke then, huh?" Rudy nudged him.

It was fun, their banter together. As the years went by, Asgore got good at countering Rudy's sense of humor. In the meantime, Rudy's jokes became less abrasive, rarely ever poking fun at Asgore’s flaws like they used to. Whether it was because the reindeer became really soft for the big guy, or age and fatherhood altered his sense of humor. Asgore assumed it was both.

They settled into Gorey's truck and drove off. He occasionally glanced at Rudy, whose smile didn’t waver one bit. His large paw rested on the other’s lap between shifting gears.

“I gotta keep this thing on the whole ride?” the reindeer asked after some time.

Would Rudy know where they were going if he took it off? Asgore considered before answering. It’s been so long since they’ve been to this particular place. They never came from the direction of Hometown, either. The drive was shorter starting from here. But Gorey was the type of person to always err on the side of caution. “Yes, please keep it on,” he replied with a apologetic squeeze to his partner's thigh.

“Sure thing, big guy." Rudy's hand rested on top of Asgore's. His thin fingers rested snugly between the ridges of the larger man’s knuckles. "But!" His fingers drummed. "Only on one condition! Gimme a hint, and I’ll take a shot at guessing where you’re taking me.”

Asgore decided on something vague. So, if Rudy missed the mark, he could drop more hints. "We've been there a... very long time ago." His voice was wistful.

"That's not enough to work with, man! You mean back when we was in college?" Rudy cackled and took a guess. "Umm… the ol' alma mater?" A strange guess, since nobody would call the campus a romantic spot. Gorey reckoned Rudy kept the nostalgic factor in mind.

"You are correct about the time. But no, it's not Ebbot University."

"Okay, then. The Library!"

Asgore paused. Why would Rudy think he'd take him to the place they'd go to study and cram the night before exams??

Rudy read the awkward silence as confusion. "You know, the place you got black out DRUNK the first time!"

Oh. Yes. The Library. The convenient name of the bar closest to the campus. "Oh...oh ho ho..." My, that was an laborious time. He could have sworn off alcohol for the rest of his life the morning after that. "Most certainly not, dear."

"Is it... someplace in Homecity?" A blanket guess, since most of their adventures in their younger years took place there.

"I'm afraid you're wrong."

"Eimmet Beach!" he spat. Oh yes, a stunning destination. One semester after final exams, they took a road trip there with a couple of friends. They lit a bonfire, roasted marshmallows, and lounged around with a cooler full of cold ones. "Man, I could still taste those s'mores in my mouth!"

"Ah... you're getting warmer." His voice shimmered.

Asgore removed his hand from its resting place to downshift. The truck's bench seat whined and creaked as its shock absorbers struggled to level themselves off-road.

Rudy flailed in his seat like a beanstalk whipping in the wind, his head nearly colliding with the side window. Asgore hit the brakes, jerking both of them forward. Creee went the handbrakes.

"Rudolph, I... I am SO sorry." Gorey wrapped his bear-like arms around Rudy to check if he had been injured. Surely his lack of vision made him unable to brace for the sudden change in terrain! "I forgot how uneven this dirt road is!"

But Rudy sat up and held him in return, unharmed. Judging by the smile, he wasn't shaken up one bit!

"Man, OF COURSE!" he cackled. That bumpy road was all too familiar. "Freakin' Dew Point!? I REMEMBER Lars taking us there with his Jeep and that god-awful road! Great view, though!"

Asgore chortle at Rudolph's comments. “Yes, they made it a mission to drive as fast they can with you, me, and Toriel trapped in the back seat." He peeled the bandana off the reindeer’s eyes, only to see them squinted like crescents with his grin. Grateful that Rudy wasn't hurt and still in good spirits, Gorey gave a soft kiss on the nape of his brown snout. "You're absolutely right."

Rudy opened his eyes and nuzzled him in response. "Don't you worry about me, big guy." His lips lifted into a smirk against Asgore's fuzzy cheek. "You know us Holidays got hard heads. I'll survive anything!"

The remainder of the evening went perfectly as planned. Asgore parked so the back of his truck faced the view of the valley. They blew up the air mattress and made themselves comfortable in its bed as the sun started setting. The yellow horizon bled into a rich orange, then a scarlet red, bathing the valley below them.

Once twilight hit, they started a fire and curled up close, watching the stars until the last ember dimmed out. A perfect way to end Valentine's Day.

Rudy lifted his head from Asgore’s embrace. “Guess we can finally associate this place with a better memory than white-knuckling car handles.” He gave a light pinch on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Well… almost.”

Gorey nuzzled his snout near the base of Rudy’s antler. “I sincerely apologize for that, my love.”

"Hey, what happened to that super-hearing? Couldn’t hear my wink this time? You’re fine, Gorey." His tone slipped into sincerity. "Love ya.”

“Love you too, Rudolph. Happy Valentine's Day.”

[reidgraygubler]

sweet creature (wes/reader) pt4

Title: Sweet Creature part four Request: no Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader Category: slowburn (will contain 18+ content) Content Warning: swearing, jokes & comments about sex/being sexual, talks about the future & wanting kids, reference to possible attack (it's a very quick reference, nothing too bady). Word Count: 2831 Summary: Reader is learning new things about her new boss while working. A/N: hey buddies, If I've missed anything or something needs to be tagged please message me and I'll fix that. I don't do cw's till I'm making the post... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

previous part series masterlist next part

Even though it’d been a full week, it’d probably been the weirdest week of my life. I didn’t know Wes also helped exotic animals. Kurt just did cats, dogs, and the typical house pet. Wes did cats, dogs, and the typical house pet, but he also did birds, snakes, rabbits, hedgehogs, and so far… my personal favorite, sugar gliders, and he was the one in the clinic who took care of the babies.

Compared to Kurt, Wes was a lot nicer when it came to bedside manner and taking care of animals. Not that Kurt wasn’t nice or anything. He was just older and was maybe a little too blunt. Watching Wes take care of a kitten or a puppy made my heart actually melt. No wonder why people loved him.

“Alright, Wes, this is Daisy Mae. She’s 8 weeks old, and her owner just wanted a check-up,” I explained to Wes as we walked into the exam room. A father with a young girl - who couldn’t be much older than 5 - was sitting on the bench, holding a small Beagle.

“Daisy Mae! What an adorable name,” Wes exclaimed as he looked between the young girl and her puppy. The young girl looked up at Wes with a shy smile before hiding her face into her dad’s arm. “Did you name her?” he asked as he squatted down to look between Daisy Mae and the girl.

“Yeah,” she giggled as she lifted her head from her dad’s arm. The girl looked at Wes and smiled. “Daddy got her for me,” she explained as she pointed at the pup.

“Is it okay if we look over Daisy Mae? We gotta make sure she’s healthy,” Wes looked at the girl, who was playing with the pup’s ear. “And then when we’re done, you can keep playing with her,” his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Okay,” she whispered as she looked up at Wes. I smiled softly as Wes scooped the puppy up from the dad’s lap and brought her over to me and the counter.

“Look at this good girl,” Wes cooed as he ran his thumb over Daisy Mae’s forehead. She lifted her head up into Wes’ hand, searching for more pets. “Who’s a good puppy,” he whispered as his thumb ran over the bump on her head. I smiled as I watched him with the pup. It was literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen… Ever. My heart was in a puddle on the ground the longer I watched Wes with Daisy Mae. “Do you want to grab me a biscuit?” He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh! Sure,” I replied before turning around and grabbing a small handful of Milkbone biscuits. They were the small kind, small enough for a puppy. “Here you are,” I said with a smile as I handed them over to Wes.

“Thank you.” Wes smiled at me as he took two from me. He carefully fed them to the pup as he looked her over. “Daisy Mae here seems to be perfectly healthy!” he exclaimed as he scooped the pup into his arms and went back to the girl. She was sitting on the very edge of her seat, watching Wes and me with caution. “If you wanna give her more treats, I’m sure she’ll love you forever.”

“Really?!”

“Really. And if you give Daisy Mae extra, extra love and attention, she’ll love you forever times infinity.”

“You’re lyin’.”

“I’m not! Am I lying?” Wes turned and looked at me. I looked between him, the pup, and the young girl.

“Of course not! Puppies, like Daisy Mae, live off love and treats!” I exclaimed as I looked at her. She smiled brightly before looking at Wes.

“What do you say, Bean?” The girl’s dad asked as Wes gave Daisy Mae back to him. The little girl smiled before burying her face into her dad’s arm, instantly trying to hide from Wes.

“Tank you,” she mumbled as she shyly looked at Wes again. I smiled as Wes stood up and stepped away from the girl and her father.

“It was no problem, really. If you guys need help with anything else you can give us a call,” Wes explained as he looked at the dad. After a brief few minutes of banter, the dad and girl left us to clean and move on with the day.

Wes stayed in the room and helped me clean up, although the mess wasn’t too bad. I could have done it myself while he did other things. I shouldn’t complain, it was nice to have the help. And once we were finished cleaning the room, we walked side by side back towards the lobby.

“I didn’t realize you were so good with kids and babies. Have you always been this good with babies? And kids too? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you interact with kids,” I nervously chuckled. Maybe he has kids. That would explain why he’s so nice and has such a great bedside manner. “Do you have kids?” I realized I probably shouldn’t have asked that, as the words were leaving my mouth. If I could take them back, I would. But they were already in the universe, and there was no such thing as “take-backs” in adulthood. It was a good thing that Wes seemed amused by my question.

“Oh! I have a niece who’s 6,” Wes laughed as he looked over at me. Oh… So no kids. He seemed pretty content without them too.

“Well, do you want kids?” I raised an eyebrow as I looked over at him. He laughed again and shrugged. Again, if I could take back my question, I would. But the words were already out and in the open and it was too late. I was curious. Fuck, I should just stop being so curious about this man.

“If I meet the right person, and it’ll depend on if they want kids,” he explained as we stepped behind the counter. He looked back at me with a soft, yet knowing, smile across his lips. So he wanted kids, but only if his girlfriend wanted them? He never really did answer my question, did he?

We were the only two people in the lobby. In fact. We were the last two people in the clinic. It’s been that way the last few nights. Wes stayed behind to work on some extra paperwork, and I stayed to help him catch up a bit. How the hell does this man have a social life if he’s always working? It’s impressive, I’ll give him that. But I could never. I already struggle with my social life and all my friends work in the same clinic as me.

Wes quietly sat down as he looked through a few files. Part of me wanted to take half the stack from him, but I’m sure he wanted to process these ones on his own. I’ll let him. I need to go soon anyway.

“And what if they don’t want kids?”

“It’s not a deal-breaker. Sure I want kids. But I’m not going to give up the possible love of my life for them,” he said as he looked up at me with a small smile. “Besides… I’m 40. I think my time for kids might have passed,” he laughed lightly. I stared at him and furrowed my eyebrows.

“It’s not too late for you to have kids. I mean Alec Baldwin is in his 60s and he just had kids. Same with George Clooney.” I shrugged and looked at the ground. I, personally, didn’t think 40 was that old to become a first-time parent. And he’s already so good with animals and kids… God, stop that. I shouldn’t be thinking about a life with my fucking boss. Idiot...

“I guess you’re right, Babes,” Wes said with a smile. I stared at him and shrugged again. “What about you? Do you want kids? You’re still young.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m too busy being your assistant to even think about dating,” I mumbled as I looked at the files he had gone back to reading. “I’m more worried about work than my dating life, I guess,” I quickly added.

“Is this you asking for fewer hours?” Wes looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I laughed and shook my head. “Okay, good, because I know I fucked up that one time, but I already like having you as my assistant.”

“No, no, I meant that I’d rather just focus on work right now rather than dating. Especially in this weird transition time with moving from Kurt to you.”

“Ah, okay, okay, that makes sense. It’d be a shame if you left me after a week,” Wes hummed as he looked over his shoulder and up at me. I smiled and shook his head.

“You’d have to fuck up a little more than forgetting my party,” I laughed as I looked back at him. “Although, my parents do want to meet you.” I looked away from him. His laughter is what brought my attention back to him.

“What am I? Your boyfriend?” Wes asked as he laughed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Although it did feel like that… My parents were to blame though.

“No, no it’s just… I’ve worked with Kurt since I’ve been here, and my parents are good friends with him… They just wanted to meet you. Make sure you aren’t a douchebag or something,” I nervously laughed.

“I see, I see. Well, you can tell them that I’m not a douchebag. Just a busy guy. Just like their daughter.” He pointed out. I rolled my eyes again as I finally put the files I was holding. “Thank you for your help today.”

“Of course. Daisy Mae needed help. Her owners brought her to the best vet I know.” I smiled as I walked around the counter. Wes silently watched me as I reached over and grabbed a pen.

“You taking off for the night?”

“Yeah, yeah, my cat needs to be fed and I have some stuff at home I need to take care of. Do you need me for anything else?” I asked as I pocketed the pen.

“No. But if you want to wait five minutes I’ll walk you out, just so you don’t have to walk outside in the dark alone. I’d hate it if something bad happened to you because of my negligence,” Wes said as he looked at me. I stared at him and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s probably smart. Don’t want to give my parents another reason to hate you,” I laughed. Wes smiled and shook his head. “I’ll have to get a taser or mace or something… Especially if I’m spending a lot of late nights here,” I sighed and leaned over the counter. Wes laughed and nodded.

“Typically we walk out together.” The way the words left his mouth sounded like he was hurt, or offended, that I said I should get something to keep myself safe. He really wanted me to wait for him, I suppose it was a good thing I didn’t have any plans tonight.

“Yeah but the nights we don’t leave at the same time? Like tonight?”

“True, true,” Wes started before looking up at me with a raised brow. “Don’t you take the bus anyway?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. My apartment is too expensive to pay for parking. And gas… Gas in LA is expensive,” I laughed before nodding. “Or usually I’ll take an Uber or Lyft.”

“But those can cost a lot, too.”

“Get back to work, Wes,” I laughed as I nodded at his papers. He shot me a glare before looking back down at his files.

“Aren’t I your boss?”

“Yeah, but you’re going so slow, Wes,” I sighed as I leaned over the counter. Wes looked up at me as he continued writing whatever it was he was writing. “I could be home by now.”

“I can guarantee you wouldn’t be home by now because there’s probably half a dozen stops between here and your apartment.” Okay, maybe he was right...

“Yeah? And?” I asked as I looked at him. Wes rolled his eyes before shaking his head.

“Look, look, I’m almost done. Why don’t you go and shut the lights out and by the time you get back I’ll be done,” Wes offered as he looked between me and the stack of files. I rolled my eyes before walking away.

“Can I just do this extra work tomorrow?” I asked as I shut the closest lights off. “Then you can help me shut the lights off.”

“You really want to get home.”

“Been a long day.”

“If you promise me you’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Duh, that’s why I asked,” I muttered. Wes laughed as he stood up from the chair. “I promise I’ll work on it between patients and on my break.”

“Sweet. I wanted to leave now anyway,” he said as he followed me down the hall to shut the lights off.

“You’re like the chillest boss I’ve ever had.”

“Do you want me to be a hardass?”

“Uh… No?”

“Correct answer,” Wes laughed as he shut the lights off on one side of the hall.

I kept my eyes on the file in front of me. All the other vet techs were crowding around me, talking to each other while I worked on the stack of files from last night. Because I was so desperate to get home, I promised I’d work on these during my break… Mistake on my part…

“I’ve heard he’s got a massive dick,” one of the techs said. I looked up at all of them and noticed they were staring at Wes, who was talking to one of the other doctors. He wasn’t wearing scrubs like everyone else. He was wearing black slacks with a lilac button-up. His lab coat hung off his shoulders and… I understood why everyone was staring…

“With an ass and face like that? I would hope he’s got a massive cock,” someone else said, pulling my attention to the people around me.

“I’d fuck him.”

“Will you shut up, please. He’s my boss,” I begged as I looked at each person around me. Jessica looked down at me with a smirk. She cocked her hip the longer she stared at me.

“What? Don’t you have a crush on Doctor Taylor? Don’t you want him to fuck you, Babes,” she said with a smirk. I glared at her, feeling my heart race in my chest. This wasn’t high school.

First of all, rude for her to just call me out like that. Especially in front of the other vet techs. IT was a small crush anyway. He was my boss now and I knew better than to act on those feelings now. I’d be better off ignoring how I felt towards him now more than ever.

“What!? No! I don’t!” I shouted, pushing myself away from the desk, only to nearly fall off the chair. “Even if I did, I’m not his type.”

“Who says? He’d probably fuck every living thing if he could.”

“You don’t have to make it seem like he’s a whore. Jesus. And that’s not what I mean. You know what I meant.”

“Oh! That you’re a virgin?”

“Will you please stop talking? Please. Work is my main focus right now. Not a relationship. Not sleeping with Wes. Not anythi-”

“Good afternoon, Ladies,” Wes said from behind me.

“Wes!” I shouted before turning around to face him. I could feel a familiar, and unwelcomed, blaze grow across my face. I really hope the embarrassment I was feeling wasn’t as obvious on my face. “It is a good afternoon! Isn’t it?” I asked as I looked at him, then over at the vet techs. But to my surprise, they had all scurried off… Leaving me to fend for myself. Great, just awesome. Of course, they’d do that to me.

“How’s the filing going?” Wes asked. I looked up at him and watched as he cringed slightly as he looked at the still tall stack he left.

“It’s going. About a third of the way through… Should be done by the end of the night,” I chuckled lightly as I rested my hand on the stack. Wes nodded, causing me to look up at him. “What’s got you so dressed up? Laundry day?”

“That’s the easy answer,” he laughed as he looked down at his attire. I smiled and watched him smooth out his shirt.

“Do I want to know the long answer?”

“I have a date after and I figured it’d just be easier to wear this…” He explained as he looked back at me. I hummed and nodded. A date. Whatever, it’s not really any of my business. “But I’ll have to call her and reschedule. I don’t want you staying here too late working on those.”

“Oh. No, no. Really, I can take them home and work on them.”

“It’s the weekend. I won’t allow you to work on them over the weekend.”

He wanted to stay and help. Shut up, he's just being nice.

“If you say so. It’s your date you’re canceling.” I shrugged as I looked up at him. Wes laughed and nodded.

“I better leave you to work. Don’t want to leave a bunch of work for the end of the night. I’ll beep you if I need any help,” Wes said before winking at me. I stared at him, watching as he walked away.

“Sure, you don’t have a crush on him,” Jessica said as he reappeared by me. I jumped and looked over at her.

“Shut up.”

“I’m sure he’d be a great lay for a first-time sex haver. He seems like… a gentle lover,” she said as she dramatically leaned over the counter. I glared at her, watching her lift a hand to her face. “So… Attentive.”

“Jessica, shut the fuck up.”

“I’m just saying. He’s going to cancel his date just to stay late and help you. Maybe he’ll fuck you after.”

“Jessica,” I spat. She smirked at me before standing up properly.

“If I didn’t have my own things to do, I’d stay and talk to you, just to make you stay later. But I have shit I have to do.”

“Thanks.” I watched as she walked away, leaving me alone at the desk.

Finally… I can work in quiet.

if you have any questions or comments about this part (or series) let me know here! 

Part Five

[washymylifeaway]

MatsuHana fanfic recs

HI LOVES :D MatsuHana is one of my FAVORITE ships and I always love reading their fics! I’m procrastinating my other wips rn, so that do be why this is coming out rn LOL. Also that ask really made me get onto writing this, so anon thank you for sending it in LOL. There are some with VERY sensitive topics and they’re very BOLD, but I hope you all are safe while going through this list <3 (also matsuhana leans more to lots of drinking, spicy smut scenes, and teenage boy humor (like d*ck jokes and sexual innuendos) and sometimes I don’t remember to warn for that, so again CAUTION)

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

CP:

plus one by orphan_account (G) 6.1k // this fic made me feel so warm and fuzzy inside LOL. It’s also hilarious and is definitely worth a read! When will I get to share a heart shaped bed with someone :( But I really love it when they just go with the flow of things, and other people are like,,, aren’t you already dating? BUT THEY’RE LIKE UMMM NO? HSAKJSH.

rated m for by orphan_account (T) 10.7k // I love this fic it made me laugh so much throughout the whole thing! The vibes in this fic are immaculate and give me life (we love a good reunion with mystery writers), it is SO good! That’s why you should never leave/stop listening prematurely (@ iwa when he was a single dad fic). 

This gets annoying fast, Makki by Ink_stained_quills (G) 2.3k // IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC PLS I COULD NOT STOP CRYING TEARS OF LAUGHTER. This AU needs more fics PLEASE. It was SO freakin’ funny and the other teams KILLED ME. Like how they all approached the problem differently and how some of them (KUROO) asked for help LOL. Please this is so freaking funny go read it.

quidditch gloves, parchment, and custard cream by h_lovely (T) 12.4k // THIS IS SO GOOD, I love this fic. It really takes you through the emotions, and I love all the development in it!!!! Their relationship with one another (but only as homies right? ofc ofc), and even their families loving the other, this fic is so good! Read it even if you don’t like slow burn, you won’t even notice <3333

call me maybe by totooru (T) 33.6k // okay yea another (semi) chat fic,,, fight me. MatsuHana are just funny in general but throw some other characters (like Kuroo) into it and it turns into a comedy show. But the main point of this fic was like the near miss meetings and I think that the misunderstanding were hilarious (as much as I hate misunderstandings LOL).

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal by plumtrees (M) 10.9k // I lost this fic once and I searched for it FOR THE LONGEST TIME. But that’s cause I wanted to reread this masterpiece. IT’S SO FUNNY AND CUTE AND DOMESTIC AND UGH. Also the small angst made me SO SAD. But the ENDING? THE KISSES AHHHHHHH. (I’m yelling a lot BUT that’s cause I really love this fic <3333)

hang out fall in love by carafin (T) 8.6k // I love the Makki hates Mattsun initially but then falls for the irresistible charm he posses trope. It might be my favorite trope for MatsuHana specifically LOL. Like I really love this fic and it has MAGIC. It’s like a magical version of the VA one LOL. But like no radio shows or reunited best friends in this one :(

THESE ARE VERY ANGST!!!!!!!

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k // is it possible to hate a character this much? I never realized how much hate/rage I had in me. Really. Like. Imma boutta fight this MF LIKE SQUARE UP. The way I tried to manifest a fake characters death like,,,, Anyway. If my RAGE doesn’t explain how good of a freakin writer they are, then idk what will. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

Even Though it All Went Wrong by plumtrees (T) 9.2k // THIS IS THE REASON THIS POST CAME TO BE. I love this fic with all my heart (or what’s left of it). Like LOVE as in, this fic really broke me beyond just breaking me. Like. When Oikawa says what he says to Mattsun after the thing (you’re sorry __ _____ __ ____) and the Iwa right after (we know __’__ ___ ______ to make you ____ __ ____) (if you’re wondering wtf I’m putting here, just ctrl F you’re sorry and you’ll see), you cannot believe how hard that hit. GOD. (I am okay if you’re wondering :’)) This is my #1 favorite angst fic of all time and if you are okay mentally and have read the tags and warnings and are fine with them, then please read it. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

The Truth Comes Out by Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon (T) 10.2k // this made me so sad and empty after I read it. Like I just sat there being like wtf did I just read I’m sad now. Again read the tags, there is a suicide attempt but there’s also some cheating in this one. This one also ends happy. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

New:

kiyala // this writer has a LOT of fluffy MatsuHana and I really love their works! It’s just all (for the most part) really cute and there’s a lotta blurred lines and boundaries that get cleared up (they define what their relationship is but with ~love~) in their fics :) My fav? Making Sense by kiyala (T) 1.5k // it’s very cute and I am one who loves when things just fall into place :D

tookumade // this writer has some of MY FAVORITE MatsuHana fics in it and I’m kinda really sad I don’t get to ramble on about them here :( (dw I will elsewhere LOL) If I had to choose, I would say Remind Me by tookumade (T) 28.6k and Zenith, Nadir by tookumade (T) 10.7k were my absolute favorites, but I cannot choose between them so don’t make me.

plumtrees // I LOVE THIS WRITER OMG. Again, someone who has written my all time FAVORITE fics (did I mention OF ALL TIME?) and I’ve obsessively read some of them too many times :’) Because I already recommended my other faves above, Captured Light by plumtrees (T) 3.5k will be my acting favorite rn. It’s really cute and depicts some really sweet moments between MatsuHana too!

h_lovely // this writer has SO MANY GOOD FICS! I really love their series and their getting together fics are all SO GOOD UGH. I recommended my favorite teen one above, but the other ones I loved are explicit so just check out this writer in general LOL. (I REALLY love mirror flower, water moon, it’s my favorite but it’s E cause some smexy scene happen, but it’s really SO good omfg. Also the roses series IS AMAZING as well!!!!)

cream puffs and carnations; by crossbelladonna (series) 11.6k // AU SERIES!!! I love the AU’s in this series and I really liked the prompts they chose for this MatsuHana week :D My favorite from this series might’ve been there he is again by crossbelladonna (T) 1.6k cause a) I love the mattsun hc in this (for his appearance) and b) IT’S CUTE :D I definitely related to Makki and his not very subtle crushing, and also I like the IwaOi + Makki as friends trope (and then they meet Mattsun), if you couldn’t tell yet LOL.

on the anatomy of crushes by carafin (T) 2.3k // (kinda cp but not LOL) it’s very short and cute and I love it a lot LOL. I love medical AU’s (even though it’s very back burner LOL), but also, like Mattsun saves the day is the move. Like the dedication he has even going on the bus? Especially for a guy? Amazing. I could never :’)

Parallel Lines by orphan_account (T) 16.3k // IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE CONSTANTLY. I hate math. Just putting that out here. And while it’s a math fic, IT? IS? SO? GOOD???? And like I love it when characters are smart, like I love intelligent characters so like this was just ajndf. (also same Mattsun, I am allergic to normal math.) 

live it up, drink it in by punybastard (T) 2.1k // GAH this one! This is a pretty iconic fic in MatsuHana hell (in my personal opinion) and if I didn’t have that two fic limit on my staple fics, this would be there. I really loved the ending of it (v cute and v well done), but also the small side stories that were inserted made it all the more entertaining :D (aka the volleyball) But they are drinking underage, so if you’re not about that BE WARNED.

it's cold out here by bishounen_curious (M) 8.6k // PLEASE I LOVE THIS FIC. YES READ YESYESYES READ. OKAY FIRST check tags and warnings, there’s a lot going on in this fic. Like don’t be stupid like them, drinking underage, and don’t do drugs not a good idea very very bad. Aside from that, I am in love with sad sad sad Makki (along with stupid IwaOi) and him being a sad drunk made me ajhkjdfs. Just read it and feel the akfnakjs with me LMFAO.

poolside by tothemoon (T) 4.1k // I’m starting this out with I LOVE the ending and I REALLY LOVE the way this confession panned out. It’s such a great concept and it made me ajhfldshf inside!!! Also, recursive endings are some of my favorites (if you couldn’t already tell LOL), and I think it really makes something so nostalgic and adds depth to a fic.

The Courage of Stars by FairyLights101 (T) 7.1k // AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC YES!!!! OKAY TW CANCER THERE’S CANCER IN THIS NO DEATH JUST PAIN and chemo (which basically is pain). Some controversy, but the angst part of me wanted him to die DONT GET ME WRONG, I’m glad he lived, but like imagine. I really love this fic, and his efforts in the bucket list were admirable :’)

we could be the greatest team by anyadisee (T) 5.7k // it’s my crack fic :D Yes, this is just Seijoh messing around, boys being boys, relationships being compared with other relationships. No pining, just me with my established relationships (and Iwa fanclubs cause those are a thing. ALWAYS).

Wet Your Whistle by darkmagicalgirl (E) 5.4k // SMUT ALERT okay but like while it’s a major plot point (lmfao I can’t believe myself), the storyline itself is good. Also, I’m all here for bartender Makki and tattoo Makki and not subtle at all Makki and basically everything Makki. I like banter and stupidity okay?

[obnoxious clucking noises] by parenthetic (renaissance) (T) 3.4k // some more crack fic for you <3333 Literally, just idiots being idiots. That’s the fic. LMFAO but seriously, I would like to participate as well,,,,, I have yet to lose a game of gay chicken cause of my lack of fear akdjaslk.

that's what you get (for waking up in vegas) by skittidyne (T) 4.2k // THIS IS SO FUNNY. I love Elvis cause he’s always officiating marriages in my fics LMFAO. But also IwaOi in this added some real nice comedy, and overall another crack fic but I really liked this one (AGAIN LMFAO).

A Bouquet of Flours by guyfierimpreg (G) 5.2k // first I want to know how they got the flour to scream, I just can’t figure it out so if anyone would like to send me pictures that’d be great. Second, they would do this bs and this is all canon. I said what I said, and I don’t take criticism. Like, matsuhana best parents proven by the magical mishaps fic (LMAO).

texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic (renaissance) (M) 2.1k // okay I just wanted to say that the accuracy in the math stuff being mentioned makes me feel like this writer was in calc ab or something and that’s trauma right there. Anyways, it’s a texting fic kinda sorta getting together kinda sorta not? Idk how to explain it, but it was funny and then smut LMFOAJIAHFSJS (the derail was just like IwaOi in gay chicken, someone call the police LMFAO).

nebulas by tothemoon (T) 10.8k // I like the casualness of it. Like the confession was just so casual (smooth Mattsun) and like the progression was GOOD. Like, it’s a very poetic fic and there’s lots of thinking of deeper meaning, but its still got some comedy sprinkled throughout. I really loved the flow of it!!!!

my heart beats for contract law by orphan_account (T) 4.4k // I too would have a breakdown over school (me pretending like I haven’t already done that ahaha), but I really love so many things about this fic! Everything was just so ajsdfljdsn and I really love the 3 part plan Mattsun comes up with :DDDD (esp pt 3). Also, to propose while having an emotional breakdown at 3am in a McDonalds drive through. A mf dream.

Reflex by hiuythn (T) 2.3k // PLEASE IF THEY DIDN’T MEET AT HS THIS WOULD BE CANON ASF. You cannot tell me you don’t think this would not be cannon asf. They would meet like this. Also poor Teuchi stuck in the middle of all of this. I haven’t watched naruto, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is random emotional sexual bonding over something. That is important. (THE ENDING AJKFHKJ)

You're in Pink (and I'm in blue) by Hyeyu (T) 4.4k // whooooo Hanahaki whooo anyway, despite how it seems, I like the hanahaki trope. I don’t fully understand it sometimes (most of the time tbh), but it adds some nice angst and desperate confessions, and I do appreciate those :D Honestly, I really liked the way this fic panned out, and I felt really bad for Iwa LOL.

stranger things by tinypersonhotel (G) 10.2k // I really like this one :D:D:D I love Makki + Oikawa friendship and they’re really the best to each other :’) The ending was satisfying, and the PLOT omg. It was SO good. I feel like I say this a lot though LOL, but I’m just really into fics with good plot progression (or else I don’t read them OOPS).

something of a disaster by latenights (T) 1.4k // chaos ahahhaha. Another crack fic? I hope no one is surprised LOL. It’s just a really short and simple, cute getting together fic with a LOT of insults LOL. I love this one in particular, “Tooru’s dinner special”.

snakes, meth labs and something like love by orphan_account (G) 3.6k // THE ROOMMATE AD PLEASE. I honestly would never think Oikawa would get a snake, but that doesn’t matter LOL. This was me indulging myself in the makki IwaOi best friends and mattsun stranger agenda but it’s a great agenda okay? It’s a good fic and there’s a microwaved fish :D

Lemonade by carriecmoney (T) 4.1k // okay once again, responsible drinking and don’t drink underage bad idea smh. But MatsuHana just making out where they want? I could see that. Yeah. Anyway, as much as public make out seshes make me *gag* feel embarrassed, what made me feel more *gag* embarrassed was the fact that the girls? just? stood? there? Like why are you watching this. Is that just me? I feel like they should’ve left smh.

surprise, surprise by airblends (T) 7.6k // some more pining and dancing around the issue whoooo. As much as I hate them not getting to the point (almost as much as I hate misunderstandings), it was a great fic. This is nosebleed c*ck block (idk if I needed to censor that but I did fight me).

A God for Every Season by timkons (T) 18.4k // I love the Hades and Persephone trope! Okay, I just love mythology leave me be, but anyway I really love a lot of this fic. Like how Mattsun thinks it’s a little brighter with Makki? CUTE I LOVE. But also, the fish funeral is ridiculous but also very on brand for Oikawa. And some BokuKuroo (idk is that their ship) in here as well :DDD

The Best/Worst Places to Cry in the City by AngryKitten (T) 4.4k // literally it is the title. Just you know, looking for the best place to cry in the city,,,, I’d like to say, don’t cat call people cause we’re not about that here. Even if it worked out for them, just don’t do it :/ Also don’t follow strangers. I feel like that’s a given but jic ya know?

this isn't exactly how i thought i'd be spending my adult years by jadedpearl (NR) 7.5k // okay petty Makki is yes and so is my Makki + IwaOi agenda LOL. (I’m thriving here can’t you tell? Yes regular skype/phone calls constantly) Anyway, blackouts and sickness really be here getting people together. (I’m asking nicely, nike.) And Makki is smooth with his words. (SHORTER MEN MADE ME LAUGH)

chocolate by tellalie (T) 3.6k // the dedication in this fic was amazing. Like making a whole a cake? Someone go do that for me. (For mankind.) Fake dating is really something else, but fake dating to out gag your best friends? Seems like I need to step up my game (but no seriously, my best friends are PDA monsters I hate it here). Also practice confessions are wack.

FINALLY I MADE IT. You don’t know how many times I almost gave up on finishing LMFAO. Is this my longest list? Idk. But I just know that I would’ve finished faster if I didn’t end up rereading almost every fic on this list LMFAO. Like no seriously I almost had to make a post saying this wouldn’t be coming out cause I got distracted by one of the longer fics (I’m blaming Mirror Flower, Water Moon specifically). But I hope you enjoyed this, and once again go thank that anon for spurring me into finishing this list LMFAO (am I a horse? Yea, probably but if one thing, I’m not sturdy).

[delos-mio]

Death of a Bachelor - Part 16

A/N: The bitch is back! Thank you EVERYONE who has showed me love and patience and grace while I took time for myself to get back in order. If you’d like to refresh your memory or catch up, you can do so here. This is by far the longest chapter of DOAB so far, because no one can make messes like the Delos’ can. Tags are at the end, please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged! (or, if you want to be added) There is a scene akin to a panic attack if that’s a trigger for anyone- please proceed with caution! Alright, I think I’ve talked enough. Please enjoy Sweet 16!

The night before Jim’s retirement party, you were curled up next to Logan. Both of you couldn’t be bothered to get dressed after soaking, and perhaps a bit more, in the bathtub together. Since there were still so many last minute details to take care of, Logan had been out of the house most of the last week. You hadn’t seen him for more than the 5 or so minutes when he came home and kissed you goodnight before sliding into bed next to you since last Thursday. He still found time during the day to text you, telling you how much he missed seeing you, how that kiss he got at the end of the night, when you were still half asleep and flushed, was the best part of his day. Sure, Logan could be a shithead, but he was sweet when he wanted to be. And he was yours.

His skin was still warm and just the slightest bit slick as he propped himself up over you, eyes searching over your face.  The look on his face, the soft one with the adoring eyes and just slightly upturned lips, was your very favorite expression of his and one you simply couldn’t resist. “I missed you. I missed this,” you murmured, moving your hand over his collarbone and down to his bicep.

“Promise I missed you more,” Logan smirked and nuzzled into your neck.

You arched up enough to press your lips to his, savoring the fact that you could finally take your time kissing him. Logan was eager to acquiesce and slowly, teasingly, ran his tongue along your bottom lip. Just kissing him was already making you ache for round two. But just as you were about to grab his hips and drag them over yours, Logan pulled back and looked you in the eyes again.

“You’re everything to me,” he mumbled, running his large palms over your hips. You couldn’t help the stupid, dopey grin that spread over your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. Logan surprised you then by rolling off you and walking out of the bedroom without saying a word. You snapped to attention and sat up in bed, letting the blanket fall around your waist as you debated whether or not to follow Logan. But, he returned only a moment later, now with his hands behind his back. Still standing in the doorway, he paused and let out a breath. “You look so beautiful right now,” he mused, unable to tear his eyes from you.

“C’mere.” You smiled and patted his side of the bed. Logan quickly complied and sat down, taking one of your hands in his. He looked a little nervous and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

“I know I haven’t been around a lot over the last couple months, and really not around this week. But I hope you know that I would always much rather be here, rolling around naked in bed with you,” he smirked. You let out a single laugh and squeezed his hand.

“I absolutely believe that,” you giggled.

“So, I kind of got you something. Just to say thank you.” Logan pulled a larger, flat black box from behind his back with a black silk ribbon around it. You took it from him, still looking in his eyes.

“Lo,” you started, smiling, “You didn’t have to get me anything. You know I understand.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugged, almost looking a little bashful, “It’s something I want you to have.” You tugged the ribbon loose and opened the top of the box on its single hinge. Inside, there was a breathtaking diamond pendant necklace. It was simple and elegant and totally you.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out. “Thank you, Lo.” He could only nod his head, his gaze now fixed on your still joined hands.

“The, um,” he started, his voice shaking just a little before he was forced to clear his throat. “The stone is from one of my mom’s rings.” Your gaze snapped up from the necklace to Logan, your mind going completely blank. “I meant what I said, princess. You’re everything to me. And I was hoping maybe you’d keep a little bit of me with you.”

The Logan you met in the coffee shop, the Logan who hung over girls and guys to make you jealous, the Logan who damn near overdosed to forget who he was…all those Logans had grown and morphed into the man sitting beside you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around him giving up something of his mom’s willingly. This was a lot for him. This wasn’t him just custom making some expensive piece of jewelry to say sorry. He loved you. Logan Delos really and truly loved you. The tears that sprang to your eyes were sudden and free flowing.

“Of course. Of course, I’d love to,” you choked out. Logan finally looked back up then and saw your tears, which he quickly thumbed away. You understanding what he was trying to say without him having to say it took a visible weight off his shoulders. He leaned back against the headboard and let out a breath he must have been holding. You wasted no time climbing into his lap and peppering his face with kisses. Finally, Logan broke into a grin, which you couldn’t help but kiss straight on. “Thank you, baby. I love it. And I love you.”

“Anything for my princess,” he mumbled against your mouth. And, yeah, you believed that.

-----

The guests were all just beginning to arrive. You recognized a good handful of them, familiar faces from other Delos events. But a lot of them were old friends of Jim’s. They all had that distinct look of asshole with way more money than brains and old enough to be the father of the girls they had hanging from their arms. The sight made you a little more than uncomfortable, but it seemed very on brand for the company Jim kept.

Juliet, and Logan to a smaller extent, had done a beautiful job putting together a retirement party worthy of a billionaire. Jim fawned over Juliet, going on and on about how wonderful she did, bragging proudly to anyone who would listen. Though he acted like he didn’t care, and truthfully, it was what he’d come to expect from his father, Logan could be seen in quiet moments with just the barest trace of a frown. True, he hated Jim, but that was still his father. And his father was still refusing to acknowledge any of Logan’s successes, even the small ones like picking a five star caterer. Even though Juliet had taken up a lot of the actual planning and arranging, it was still Logan’s idea to event throw this party. Logan was still technically the one hosting. It broke your heart. After over a year, it had become a familiar sight, but time did nothing to dull the pain it drove into your chest.

As you scanned the rest of the crowd, sending a close mouthed smile to a woman you recognized, you felt John slide up next to you.

“Logan ditch you?”

“Momentarily,” you said with a small laugh. “Something about Jules and puff pastry.”

“Sounds about right,” John smiled. “Who knows what kind of disaster there would be if he wasn’t there to intervene!”

“You say that like he wouldn’t be the one causing the disaster,” you laughed as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“You are so cruel. All the time.” Logan’s lips connected with your next once and then twice before sporting a full grin.

“You’re in a much better mood than this morning,” you noted, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

“No fucking joke. You were a little bitch this morning,” John laughed. Honestly, John wasn’t too far off the truth. Logan was worried about being able to pull off this party the way he had planned it out in his head. So, once you got to the Delos compound that morning, he went from 0 to 60, ordering staff around and groaning over wrinkles in his dress shirt.

“You know what, fuck you both,” Logan said with absolutely no bite. If anything, his grip around you tightened. “I can’t believe Billy is late to this. Jules is going to fucking kill him.”

“Hopefully,” you and John said in unison. It was odd, though, that William hadn’t showed up yet. He was already a fashionable 30 minutes late to his future father in law’s retirement soiree. And, to his knowledge, this was the same man whose company he was taking over, so it was not a good look for him to be running so late. As if she could sense the topic at hand, Juliet stormed over to your group, grabbing a flute of champagne off a tray and downing it in a single go.

“He’s getting on my last goddamn nerve,” she all but growled, staring at the front door, waiting for her fiancé to slide in.

“I’m sure he’s on his way,” you said, resting your hand on her arm comfortingly.

“He knew, he KNEW how important this was to me and he couldn’t even be bothered to get here on time! Dad’s supposed to hand Delos over to him in front of all these people. You’d think he’d show a little more respect.” Juliet crossed her arms and looked down at the floor, disappointment lacing her voice. Logan conveniently lifted his drink to his mouth as she spoke, not wanting to make Juliet feel worse about her piece of shit fiancé.

From the corner of your eye, the front door opening drew your attention away from the conversation at hand. William was walking in with a slender, beautiful blonde woman you didn’t recognize. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked guilty as hell. “Jules,” you said quietly and pointed your chin toward the door. She let out and exasperated sigh and shot him daggers.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” William tried, leaning in to kiss Juliet. All he got was her cheek as she turned away from him. “Jules, please. I had to pick up the pianist like you asked me to, remember?” he said gently, not wanting to incur any more of the younger Delos’ wrath. She looked back him at the mention of that. Evidently, that was something she had tasked William with.

“Fuck. I forgot. There’s been,” she let out a breath, “There’s been so much going on.”

“I know. But, I got her here!” he said with a cruel smile. His expression confused you. But when you felt Logan freeze completely, you knew whatever it was that William did, he did it for the express purpose of making Logan uncomfortable.

“Thank you so much for having me. This is a beautiful home,” the pianist said with a pleasant smile as she shook Juliet’s hand.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Logan mumbled to the group before releasing you and taking off for the staircase, not stopping for anyone in his way.

“I should…” you started before following the path he took up to the second level. All of the doors were closed, which made finding Logan a little more difficult. But, you remembered from coming her a handful of times before which one was his childhood bedroom. You knocked lightly on the door. “Lo? Baby?” you called, not getting a response. Gently, you opened the door and saw Logan sitting at the foot of the bed, his head hung down with his fingers laced together behind his neck.

You could see his toe tapping erratically on the floor, a tell-tale sign he was anxious. With the door shut behind you, you kneeled down in front of him and put your palms low on his thighs. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t do this,” he said softly. “I can’t…Fuck!” he cried out, tugging at the roots of his dark hair.

“Shh, babe,” you cooed, rubbing your hands in gentle circles. “Take a deep breath.” It took some effort, but Logan managed to gulp down a shuddering breath. “One more.” He repeated the action with more success. “Talk to me, Lo,” you said, encouraging him to open up. Logan had made so much progress with opening up and being vulnerable with you, it broke your heart to see him shut down so completely.

“She…” he began. So, it was the pianist. Perhaps she was a former lover. Did he know by now you wouldn’t care if she was? You trusted Logan and you knew there would be an ex fling or twenty still around LA. The thought didn’t bother you. Was there something about this one? He said he’d never been in love before, so what could be so bad that would send him running on sight?

“Who is she?”

“It’s Delores.” That was not an option you had considered. In your mind, you’d placed Delores into a box of ‘evil robot still in Westworld’ and therefore unable to get to your Logan out here in the real world. You had assumed he was safe now. He was healing. Shit, he was thriving. But she walked into a day Logan had planned out from sunrise to sunset and completely threw him off course.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed. “What can I do? What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” Logan sighed. “How many fucking piano players are in LA? There have to be hundreds! And that stupid fuck had to bring her here. He had to pick the one person he knows will rattle me.” He let our a sharp breath, running his hands down his face. “And he fucked her! He fucked her and fell in fucking love with her and brought her around Jules?” You could feel his blood pressure rising even from where you were kneeling on the floor. “I hate him. I him, baby,” he said, his eyes glassy as he finally looked at you.

“He’s a piece of shit, Lo,” you said simply. Logan was still being tortured by a man who very clearly had no sense of respect or decency. The thought of the hurt he was causing Logan and Juliet, if she knew about his clandestine relationship, was enough to make you charge back downstairs and lay him out yourself.

“This is so stupid. I shouldn’t freak out just seeing one stupid robot,” he muttered.

“Hey.” You pulled his hands away from his head and stood just enough that you could hike up your dress a bit and straddle Logan. His arms instantly wrapped around your waist and he let his head rest on your shoulder. “It’s not stupid. They both did unthinkable things to you,” you whispered into his ear. “I’m sorry she’s here and this is happening to you. But Lo,” you lifted his chin to look into his deep, dark eyes, “I am so proud of you. You worked so hard on not just this deal or this party, but on yourself. And I know how hard it’s been for you. So you’re allowed to freak out a bit, ok?” You both laughed lightly, but a lone tear fell from his eye, which he quickly wiped away.

“I don’t say it enough, I know. But you know how much I love you, right?” Logan asked, his gaze soft as his palms moved along your sides. The light reflecting off the necklace he gave you the night before caught his eye, and just the barest trace of a smile formed on his lips. He looked so handsome and so open, you couldn’t resist leaning down and placing a single long, firm kiss on his soft mouth.

“Of course I know. I love you too,” you smiled and he grinned right back.

“Mmm, say it again,” he smirked and you shoved his shoulder.

“I love you, dummy.” Just as you threatened to laugh, Logan tilted his chin up to kiss you again, this time taking control and letting his tongue trace over yours. The spark between you ignited immediately and Logan pulled your hips just a little bit closer to his. His half hard cock was noticeable as he adjusted you in his lap. Your heart was hammering in your chest as Logan moved his lips from yours to trail along your jaw and down to your neck. Logan took his time kissing that spot right at the base of your throat that he knew you loved. “Logan,” you breathed out.

“Hmm?” he mumbled against your skin, unwilling to move his lips too far from you.

“We should consider heading back downstairs,” you said before moaning at his teeth scraping that same sweet spot.

“Or,” you could feel Logan smirk against you, “We could stay up here for a bit and you could ride me.” Given what Logan was currently doing to you and what was going on downstairs, you were greatly tempted to give in to him. But you knew he was hiding behind sex again, which you didn’t mind, but the sensible part of your brain knew there was unfinished business to attend to before you could give Logan the kind of sexual attention he deserved.

“How about we go back downstairs and get this day over with and then tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me out on the deck?” you bargained, knowing he likely wouldn’t say no to semi-public sex.

“Anything I want?” he asked with an arched eyebrow and you nodded. “And I can do it out on the deck where I can show everyone how fucking incredible you look with me inside you?”

You nipped his bottom lip before standing up and holding your hand out to him. “Anything for my love.”

His eyes went bright as he looked over you, his smile soft. Logan pulled you tight to him and placed a light kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“I’ve got you. I’ve always got you,” you whispered back before kissing him one more time.

The two of you walked back downstairs to rejoin the party, Logan waiting at the bottom of the staircase to take your hand and help you the rest of the way down. Now that he had calmed down a bit, he kept your arm in his as an anchor, something to ground him and keep his thoughts occupied. You gladly accepted the job and squeezed his bicep reassuringly.

“There you are!” Juliet was clipping up to you and Logan, irritation burning in her eyes.

“Here I am,” Logan smirked.

“Shut up. Dad’s about ready to make his little speech, so I need you up front.”

“Why? So he can look at me like I’m a piece of shit while he gives my company over to Billy?” Logan bit back.

“Please don’t do this right now,” Juliet sighed. “I just need you to smile for five minutes and then you can go right back to wishing he was dead.”

Logan conceded and kissed you once more before following Juliet outside where the bulk of the party goers had gathered. You spotted John up near the front and made your way to him, not wanting to be left alone in a sea of billionaire strangers. John made room for you and threw his arm over your shoulder.

“You ready for this?”

“I really don’t know.” You were nervous. You worried about any potential fallout and just wanted Logan to be happy at the end of it all. That was all you really wanted these days.

“Attention, attention,” Juliet sang out as she gently clinked a fork against her glass. “First, I want to thank you all so much for coming. It means a lot to our family that you’d be here to celebrate my father and his many accomplishments.” There was a small bout of applause and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling. “I know he wants to make a few remarks of his own. So, without further ado, Jim Delos,” Juliet said with a smile.

Jim took the spotlight and gave her a tender kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, Jules. Can we have another round of applause for the wonderful job she’s done putting this event together?” The crowd clapped and you could hear Juliet try to say something along the lines of ‘Logan too!’, which Jim promptly ignored.

“I started Delos 30 years ago with the hope of changing how the world viewed VR and on a broader scale, the world around us. In those 30 years, I made a lot of sacrifices to grow Delos into the corporation it is today. If I were asked to do it all again,” You looked to Logan and saw the little glimmer of hope in his eyes, “There’s not a goddamn thing I’d change.” You couldn’t bear to look at him a second time. There was no way you’d be able to stomach the hurt we was undoubtedly trying to hide on his face.

“And while I initially set up my succession to have the business stay in the family, I was presented an offer I couldn’t turn down.” Murmurs broke out among the crowd, trying to understand what Jim was trying to say. William stood tall with his jaw set, confusion set on his face. Juliet had an almost identical look on her face as well. Next to you, John started to move forward, but not before shooting you a comforting wink. “It’s my pleasure to announce the new owner of Delos, Mr. John Collins.”

Confused and scattered applause started up, most of the guests still confused by what was going on. William had been acting head for some months now, so the sudden change was throwing nearly everyone present for a loop. “Thank you, Jim.” The two shook hands and Jim gave him a hearty clasp on the back. “J&L Ventures is very excited to be embarking on the adventure that is owning Delos. We have a strong vision on where we see Delos 5, 10, even 20 years down the line. And, yes, Jim is correct in calling me the owner of Delos. But I’m just the charming, eloquent half of the J in J&L.” John succeeded in getting laughs. John did have that bit of charm about him that people seemed to latch on to immediately. “Please, L, join me up here?”

Logan took four proud, certain steps forward and stood at John’s side, smug and sexy as he’d ever been. Now it was time for the crowd to gasp and loudly chatter. It was comical, you thought, the collective clutched pearls of those around you. You were so taken by how proud Logan looked that you almost forgot to check for William’s reaction. He was bright red and downright murderous- at Logan or Jim, you weren’t sure. Perhaps both. Juliet looked like she had seen a ghost and all color had drained from her face. It would have been nice if she’d been able to be looped into all of this, Logan had regrets about having to keep this from her. But, he also knew there had to be as few people as possible who knew about the sale of Delos.

“WHAT?” The roar from Jim pulled all attention to where he stood.

“L. You know, like for Logan? My name?” Logan chirped back. “Let me recap- you sold Delos to John. John is my business partner. John is also my best friend. It’s not my fucking fault you weren’t around enough growing up that you can’t even remember what my best fucking friend looks like!”

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Jim bellowed. He began to berate Logan as another argument broke out between William and Juliet.

“Did you know about this?” William growled, violently taking her arm in his hand.

“Does it look like I knew about this!” she yelled, yanking her arm away. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me! You really think I’d keep a secret like this from you? Do you know me at all?”

“Well, I thought I did. But maybe you’re just a cheat like everyone else in your goddamn family!” He was spitting mad and inching closer and closer to Juliet. But, being the big brother he was, Logan stepped between the two, pushing William back by the chest.

“Take another step closer to her and I’ll fucking kill you,” Logan said plainly. He didn’t need any theatrics for William to know he was serious. He stormed off into the house, leaving with a huff and pulling at his hair. Logan turned then to check on his sister, who was thankful for his intervention but clearly hesitant to even speak to him right now. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but it must not have gone in Logan’s favor. Because just as you approached, she threw her hands up and also made for the house.

“Hey,” you said, putting a hand on Logan’s back.

“Hey, princess.” Logan pulled you into him and kissed the crown of your head. “Was that enough of a show?”

“You always did know how to steal the spotlight,” you laughed. “Are you ok?”

“Well, my dad really hates me now and Jules is a little pissed at me. But, I’ve never been better,” he smirked, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I should go find Jules though. I suppose I have somethings to explain.”

You nodded and walked into the great room with him, hand in hand while he tried to find Juliet. It was a scream from down the hallway that drew both your attention. There was banging and yelling coming from the library. Logan pulled you with him to find the source of the commotion.

“GET OUT!” It was Juliet screaming at the top of her lungs. Suddenly, the door flew open, William tumbling out of it into the hallway and landing flat on his ass. His shirt was thrown at him from beyond where you could see. The shirt was followed by a vase, which shattered as it hit the wall behind William. All you and Logan could do was watch as the scene unfolded. Delores was pushed out next, looking disheveled in a distinctly sexual way. You knew William was capable of evil, but you didn’t think he was dumb enough to fool around with another woman right under his fiancé’s nose.

“How long?” Juliet cried out.

“Remember when we took that trip to Westworld?” Logan interrupted. Juliet snapped her attention to him. “I didn’t want to hurt you, so I didn’t say anything. But damn, Billy. You really are good at pissing off everyone around you, huh!”

“Oh, and I suppose you think you’re some saint, huh? You stop shooting heroin for 8 months and suddenly you know everything? You only fuck one bitch and now you’re the relationship expert?! Well, congratulations on doing the bare fucking minimum!” William laughed. That was it for Logan and he was charging at him and grabbed William by the shirt he had shrugged on.

“You can disrespect me all you want. But you’re never going to fucking talk about my sister or the love of my life.” Logan spat. “Get the fuck out of our house.” He released William roughly and herded him down the foyer.

The Delos’ siblings glowered as William grabbed his jacket and let himself out. Delores was still hovering in the doorway. Logan nodded toward the front door. “Sorry, was that unclear? That get the fuck out extended to you too.”

Delores looked down as she shuffled out of the Delos compound and into the passenger seat of William’s car. The peeled off into the California twilight, hopefully not to be seen again. Bombs had been dropped that night, now all that was left was to sort through the debris.

TAGGED: @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @marvelcapsicle​ @something-tofightfor​ @songtoyou​ @abroadcastofthemind​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @gollyderek​ @dylanobrusso​

[goatsandgangsters]

@runn0ft IT REALLY DOES FEEL LIKE LONGER. *dad joke voice* I mean it has been since last year! but also. this is hell. 

@truxi-twice and @portiaadams SO THE TIMELINE OF EVENTS IS on the last monday of the year, kara submitted a bug report to tumblr about email/text notifications not working, they replied pretty quickly to be like “yeah we know it’s a bug, we’re working on it,” and then a few hours later, kara gets an email from tumblr trust and safety being like “hey we suspended your account because you have unused sideblogs, please delete them.” so kara does, responds literally within the hour, and then....... nothing. this was over a week ago. no response. multiple follow-ups, no response. support tickets, no response. 

I’ve been doing /search/ with various combos of phrases like suspended, tumblr, urls, support, trust and safety, etc. and found MORE PEOPLE THAN I EXPECTED who had their blog suspended for hoarding urls but got them back. apparently this is the only thing in tumblr’s tos that they actually care about and enforce :|| some people got their blogs unsuspended within hours. for some people, it took weeks and sometimes even more than a month to get any kind of response. they DID get their blogs back eventually, but with wildly varying amounts of time. (also, as you can imagine with looking for this kind of data, it’s going to be a lot easier to find blogs that WERE restored than to find blogs that are still suspended)

but it IS possible. we just don’t know how long it’s going to take. even though on our end it looks like the entire blog is deleted, on kara’s end, they’re still logged in on the app, they have access to sideblogs (not the empty ones—those are deleted—but to legit active sideblogs, like tuagifs), they can still see the dash, but they can’t a) interact with it in any way or b) see their own blog and neither can we. but if tumblr will EVER RESPOND TO THEIR EMAILS, basically all they have to do is unsuspend and then boom, blog restored in its entirety 

so basically KEEP CROSSING YOUR CROSSABLES that tumblr will fucking respond. and if you do have unused sideblogs, uuuuh START USING ‘EM! I still caution everyone to avoid deleting sideblogs though, because—bECAUSE—they still have not fixed a bug that has been around for years where deleting a sideblog can sometimes accidentally delete your entire account. 

[yikesharringrove]

the fic you wrote for my last prompt was amazing, ty 😭 can you do 50 + 56 this time please? and if you want to work in dyslexic!steve too that would be awesome! 🥰

You are speaking my fuckin’ language, dyslexic Steve is my ABSOLUTE jam. Honestly, whenever I write Steve, he’s dyslexic, although sometimes it’s not mentioned because it’s not important to Harry’s journey @ jk rowling

Thank you for your request! I’m really glad you liked the other one I wrote! You’re anonymous so I don’t know which one that is but I really enjoyed writing them all! Sorry for my manic energy rn.

Something a little different, it’s modern au! This is probably nothing like what you were thinking so I’m sorry, but I kinda love it ngl.

50: Secret Admirer

56: “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”

Prompt list!

Billy spent three and a half hours reading through every single tweet on the account.

There were so fucking many of them. The earliest one was timestamped from four days ago, so obviously, this person had no life outside of tweeting.

Tweeting about Billy.

He had a few personal favorites. He had retweeted them to his account, figuring may as well play it up, make a joke outta everything.

@ImHardForHargrove: sorry WHOMST gave you the RIGHT to have eyes that fuckin blue im YELLING

@ImHardForHargrove: watchin u play basketball is a religious experience y are ur arms so BIG hhnnnng

And Billy’s absolute favorite, which he pinned right at the top of his account

@ImHardForHargrove: ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass

Billy knew he looked good. Knew he turned heads wherever he went. He did that on purpose. But realizing someone at Hawkins High had set up a thirst account for him, well.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” Billy had explained the situation to Robin, letting her go through the account on his phone. “Like, It’s kinda nice, whoever this guy is, he’s got a crush. But also like, It’s kinda creepy. Plus he’s objectifying me,” Billy was talking through his sandwich.

Robin made a face of disgust. “Why do you keep saying ‘he’? All of the girls in this fucking school are practically drooling for you.”

“Hard for Hargrove, Robin. I know you’re like, revolted by the peen and whatever but that does not excuse a lack of basic sexual education and anatomy.” She gagged at him. Honest to God, gagged. He thought she was gonna spew all over the table.

“If I ever hear you call it a peen ever again, it’s on sight Hargrove.” Heather plopped herself down next to Robin, kissing her cheek before zeroing in on Billy’s phone, still in Robin’s hand.

“Have you guys worked out who it could be yet?” Her eyes were wide at Billy.

“Billy says he thinks its a guy even though people with penises aren’t necessarily men.” Robin gave him a pointed look.

“Yeah Robin, I know that, but, I don’t know I just think it’s a guy penis-having person.”

Heather narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you actually think that, or are you just hoping in that goblin little brain of yours that this account is Steve Harrington’s.” Billy could feel the heat spread down his neck.

“Billy, I know Steve is like, the only out guy in this whole fucking town, but you can do way better than him.  PLUS, I feel like it makes more sense if the person running this account wasn’t out and had to channel their gay yearning through social media.”

“First of all Robin, you have this vendetta against Steve that I don’t get. He’s a nice guy. He’s kinda dopey, kinda dumb, but he’s like, sweet and shit. Second, I’m not out, so it still could be him because he doesn’t think I would, like, accept his advances or whatever. Hence, gay internet yearning.” The chime of the bell sent them packing their lunches, Billy’s phone vibrated in Robin’s hand. She rolled her eyes when he realized he turned on notifications for the account

“Get a fucking life you loser.” She slapped the phone into his hand. He opened the new tweet with embarrassing zeal.

@ImHardForHargrove: i saw u talking with ur mouth full and it was yucky but i was still  🥺🥺

His head shot up, trying to see who would have been facing him during lunch, but the cafeteria was almost empty.

The rest of the week Billy took deliberate care of every interaction he had with anyone. Observing who was in his surroundings, and making note of everything he did and said. He took extra caution around Steve, wanting to spot any minute detail that could give away who ran the account.

The account started blowing up. People were retweeting like fucking crazy. Everywhere he went, he was being asked if he’s seen it, like he doesn’t regularly retweet the good ones. The search for the owner of the account had spread throughout the whole school. A few girls even tried to claim the account was theirs, but every time that happened the account would tweet out something to discredit whoever made the claim, proving them a liar.

Billy was starting to lose hope it was Harrington. The tweets were coming at all different times, posted whenever the person thought about it, so Billy was losing track of who was near when he said or did something. And the tweets were always about stupid stuff Billy didn’t register doing. On Wednesday night the account said

@ImHardForHargrove: hi when you chew on your pencil and it makes me 🥴 that is all thx for comin to my ted talk

Friday afternoon gave them all:

@ImHardForHargrove: walked past ur classroom and u were asleep ive never wanted to CUDDLE someone so bad in my LIFE

But Saturday, Saturday renewed all hope for Harrington Billy could possibly have. Lauren Kranz was throwing a party. It was the first real rager in a while, so everyone was there, and everyone was sloshed. Everyone but Billy, who’d agreed to be designated driver for Robin and Heather like some kinda idiot.

He was brooding on the back porch when his phone went off. The account was active, and the owner was drunk.

@ImHardForHargrove: I can seeeeee u oyt the windw I wan u 2 FUC ME. RAW DOG.

@ImHardForHargrove: srry ur so beauitiful nd THICCC

@ImHardForHargrove: I wana shoot my shot but idk if u lik bois

@ImHardForHargrove: (ys i am boi)

@ImHardForHargrove: nd i dont wana get my heart broken agin 😥

He was right about it being a guy. He was right about him being too nervous to approach him outright. His brain was screaming stevestevesteve at him. Hawkins was shook when Steve came out as bisexual in his sophomore year. He was the golden boy, a real jock. He was NOT the kind of guy people would assume queer in a small midwestern town.

He was kind of a douchebag, dumping one girl for another, sleeping with her and never calling again. But then he settled down with this guy from the University of Indianapolis for a few months until Steve caught him cheating. Apparently, he had slashed the guy’s tires. Billy was impressed.

The next year came Wheeler, who only stuck around long enough to make sure Steve was nice and whipped before she fucked off on him too. So Steve retreated. Spent more time with middle schoolers than anybody else. Didn’t want to put his heart on the line anymore until he knew it wouldn’t be stomped on.  Billy could respect that.

Billy couldn’t risk being out in a town like Hawkins. Word always had a way of getting right back to his dad, and in a tiny hick town with nothing better to do than gossip, it was usually only a matter of hours before Neil heard something he didn’t like.

@ImHardForHargrove: srry 4 bad typing rn. drunk nd dysl exic ren’t a happy combo

Billy’s heart stopped. The drunken idiot was giving himself away. Maybe if he sat here staring at the account long enough, enough would be revealed he could figure it all out like a shitty drunk episode of Blue’s Clues.

He was so focused on Twitter, refreshing his feed, again and again, he didn’t notice a very drunk, and very unsteady Steve Harrington stumbling out the back door towards him. Until he crashed into his back.

“Sorry, Bill!” Billy had Steve by the shoulders trying to keep him upright. “Heyy I have a question for you.” Steve grabbed one of Billy’s hands and veered over to the table and chairs arranged neatly on the small patio. When they were sitting, Steve kept ahold of Billy’s hand.

“Hi.” Steve was smiling like a little kid. Billy was in fucking love.

“hey, Harrington. What was your question.”

“So-oo. I have this friend. A very good friend. Super close. And he has a big ol’ crush on you but he’s too scared to ask you himself because he keeps getting his heart fuckin’ broken so he wanted me to ask. Are you into guys?” It’s a miracle Billy understood any of that, every word blending into the next.

“That depends.” Billy leaned in, running his tongue along his bottom lip. He saw Steve take in a sharp breath, following the movement with his glazed eyes. He knew Steve was talking about himself, he just wanted to rile him up a little. Make him blush first. “This friend you’re talkin’ about. He’s our age? Like you’re not trying to set me up with one a’ your kids, right?” Steve physically recoiled.

“NO, you fuckin’ pedo. I’m NOT trying to set you up with a fuckin’, fuckin’ middle schooler. My friend is, uh eighteen. He’s a senior.” Unless Tommy fuckin’ H. suddenly had a penchant for dick Billy didn’t know about, Steve was 100% talking about himself.

“Well, if he’s as pretty as you are, I’d love to go out with him sometime.” Billy winked. Steve went red.

“Okay, but like, does that mean you’d go out with me? Like I’m as pretty as me, right? Because I was talking about me. Not ‘a friend’ I was talking about me. Steve.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out. You know, I was hoping it was you running that Twitter. Any time you’d tweet out something you wanted to do with me, I was always picturin’ doing it with you, Baby.” Billy was practically purring. “Especially all the shit you wanted me to do TO you.” Steve gave something between a whine and a groan and flopped himself onto Billy’s lap, straddling him with very little grace.

“Thank God. ‘Cause you’re so fucking hot I’d let you do anything to me. Anything, Bill.” Billy smiled softly at him.

“Then let me take you home. Let me put you in bed to sleep off all this. And let me take you to breakfast tomorrow. Something nice and greasy for your hangover tummy.” Steve was a puddle in Billy’s lap. “C’mon, Drunky, git your ass up.” Steve just giggled and muttered Drunky Skunky under his breath.

Billy sighed and stood up, hefting Steve up with him.

“Bil-ly,” Steve whined. “You’re so strong, this is so fucking hot. I gotta tweet about this.”

“Tweet it later, Sweet Thing.”

It took Billy for-fucking-ever to find Robin and Heather (they were making out in the basement with the stoners). But Steve chirped and cooed into his ear, so happy Billy could lift him and hold him like it was nothing.

The last tweet from the account was timestamped from Sunday evening.

@ImHardForHargrove: Hi this is Steve. Billy’s my boyfriend now 🥰#ThirstWorks

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 26

Chapter title: When Youre Home

A/n: Sorry it took awhile and im sorry its shorter!! Ive been really busy but I still wanted to get a chapter out! And ofc cant tell you what happens just yet also gotta let ya suffer. Sorry its bad but enjoy!! PLEASE LEAVE ME COMMENTS YALL! PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS AND IF ITS CONFUSING OR YOU HAVE QUESTIONS IM HERE TO ANSWER THEM OK?

First | Previous | Next

words: 2356

summary: The world freezes as the gang follows the events of the previous night

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link  

“Dada!” No, Logan couldn't. His throat closes tightly hearing the sound of frantic children racing toward him. Wiping away his nervous tears he stands, the twins waste no time as Logan kneels to nuzzle themselves into him. Emile and Remy, somber faces, approach from behind. “Where's Papa?” Valerie shakes, her fears from the night only arising.

“Um...Patton is…” Logan cant speak, the words catch in his throat, stuck at some border keeping them down. “He’s…” He doesn't wish to beg for assistance, but his eyes beg  to anyone. Everyone avoids him, except…

“Why don't we go get some food?” Emile offers, the twins attention, tired and worn out, and focuses on the doctor. “We can get something for your dad” Emile and Remy work in sync, taking the pair from Logan. Nothing changes but the smallest glint shows his thankfulness. They set off and just as soon as they appeared, they fade into the rush of the midnight hour at the hospital. Cold and dark, Logan wants them back, the aching his body feels as he no longer can feel their presence.

He could see the crowd move, he could hear their mumblings and the world continue on. But he felt numb, like static surrounding him, nothing was there. Silence in this noisy void. Even when Virgil places his hand on the lawyers shoulder it takes a moment to register, then his face only sends him back.

“Hey we he- Patton” It takes almost no time to identify the ooze of blood and the frozen terror in the center of the courtroom. Virgil steps back, a moment of hesitation, Roman rushing by him sparks him back alive. He had never seen a puzzle so broken, so many pieces lost. Logan couldn't speak, but he held so tightly. But to what? Virgil hated it but it didnt look like Patton.

“Hel..help” Logan manages, something in him however was gone. Virgil couldn't look anymore, the pale face, he longed to see the bright smile, promising love as it flashed to all it passed. The sparkle of his eyes, a smart shine closed as they looked empty. Nothing was there, no one was there….

“Uhm Roman Reial, I need an ambulance… the courthouse on Preise Boulevard” He rushes, his breaths short and scared. “A-a gunshot wound...please just hurry” He pleads, Logan continues staring towards the door. The icy blue that sparked with wisdom and his unsuspected and treasured love had melted. They were empty, devoid of purpose to shine.

“We...we’re engaged” He mumbles, Virgil looks to Pattons hands instantly. The scuffed skin didn't distract from the stunning glimmer of the ring around his finger.

“C-come on” Virgil tries “We have to get him out of here...or apply pressure...or stop the bleeding or-”

“Virge breathe” Roman takes his hand, squeezing it gently. Their eyes meet and the dangerous storm dies down in Virgil, finding a light rain should suffice. “He’ll be ok”

“Don't make promises you can't keep” Virgil whispers, listening to a silent Logan crying ever so gently over a fallen love. Roman cups his cheek, the movement feeling natural.

“I'm not” He takes Virgil to the side, calming him as medics and cops file in. The pair are guilty as they ignore Logan's desperate cries, shunning away while Patton, if you can call his lifeless body that was hauled away. Logan sinks again, unable to move, no one makes a sound, the room falls quiet once more. “Logan…” Roman begins, his caution at a high point. The lawyer shakes his head, searching for the words, any words. A simple croak.

“Hes-”

“Dead” Logan mutters “He's dead” He slumps into his chair, Roman and Virgil share uneasy glances.

“What happened?!” The three look up, their eyes landing in unison. A fiery path alight as Barbara marched towards them, Marcy following her footsteps trying to put out the dark. Logan stands, not expecting the rough descent to the physical world. “What did you do?” She spits, desperate as everything falls apart.

“Barb!” Marcy calls, gently removing her from a distant Logan. “Bubbles take a breath, it's not Logan's fault” Marcy assures, stroking ever so delicately to her wife. Barbara tries to conjure an argument but shatters, falling into Marcys arms as she cries.

Shouldn't Logan be doing the same?

Why couldn't he feel the pain?

Had he succumbed...to the dark?

Not too long ago his confusion was riddled with unbearable pain, the sadness too much to feel as it coursed through his veins, practically pumping his breath. He needed Patton, that took something out of him. The name, even the mere thought was too much, a break in his step. Turning rapidly away from this scene, too much of a mirror of his inner turmoil, he walks to the door, and kept going. Ignore, he told himself, ignore the shouts and the concern.

“Patton Hart” He demands, the woman perks up, a note of sympathy accompanies her sweet smile. She dials the phone, hushed whispers before she returns to Logan, the man no doubt seemed insane.

“I'm sorry sir, mister Hart is still in surgery” She informs. “We will send someone out with updates, but please return to the waiting room” She requests, her politeness and formality wasn't something Logan could argue. And it made sense, what was he thinking. Resigned with shame he returns to the group, the moment his sweaty back hits the chair he gives in. The tears just come, you'd think dehydration might be a risk as he sobs with no filter. No one dared move, not even a breath escaped but Barbara's face morphs, she takes his side, clutching hard. If he needed pressure, he was getting it.

Everyone loved him, but these two...it was different. The pain, the absolute grief they felt, couldn't be matched, only sprouted from their passionate love. Even if there's differences between each other, it was intense...and it hurt. And they shared that, how awful…

~~~

“I hear kids” Patton chuckles into the pillow, Logans arms remain around the smaller of the pair. It was true, the feet moved rapidly through the house, the wooden floors revealing their location with coy creaks. Logan groans, nuzzling into Patton not wishing to lose this warmth. “C’mon” Patton giggles, a gentle kiss on Logan's cheek before he sits up. His hair falling perfectly into a fluffed cloud. The pair reach for their glasses, preparing for the wave that approaches them.

“Papa! Dada!” The door bursts and the twins spare no one, jumping into the bed as they pounce on the fathers. Both lawyers fall back, laughing through muffled embraces. The twins had grown immensely, and yet they insisted on Sunday morning hugs.

“Where do you attain all this energy?” Logan wonders, adjusting Remus in front of him, the boy bounces excited. “It's eight in the morning” Logan yawns, Valerie follows suit sitting next to her brother.

“Lo they've only been alive for ten years, they have all the energy in the world” Patton teases, resting his head on Logan's accepting shoulder. “Why don't we give your father some space, come on Ill make you breakfast” Patton takes his time, slipping on his slippers as he leads the eager twins to the kitchen. The skip behind him, humming sweetly as they clutch to his hands.

“Cartoons?” Remus proposes, Patton nods and allows them to set up in front of the couch. The shows blare loud but nothing Patton didn't enjoy or was used to, he begins his work diligently in the kitchen. Never could he gain tired of the sweet bouts of laughter from the children.

“Good morning pop!” Patton turns, a giant grin spreads. Terrence stands idle, his cup tight in his small hands, his smile reflects brightly.

“Well good morning sweetness” Patton greets, kneeling slightly to face the young boy. “What can I do for you?” He offers, Terrence holds out his cup, shaking it gladly. “Juice or water?”

“Juice please! Jamahl sleeping still” He replies, Patton obliges, securing the drink into his hands once more. “Thank you kindly!” He beams, Patton hides a sweet chuckle, his vocabulary increasing everyday. “Hello papa” He waves to a slumbering Logan, hugging his legs before racing off to join his siblings, Logan ruffles his hair watching him go. Patton giggles turning back to his work, the stove ready for the delectable delight.

“Mmm” Logan hums, his arms wrapping gently around Patton's waist. His head falls perfectly on the mans shoulder, burrowing with ease. Patton giggles, the tickles certainly help to awake the man. Logan grows impatient spinning Patton towards him, leaning into a gentle kiss, a nice satisfaction as he pulls away.

“What was that for?” Patton laughs, Logan shrugs returning to his position. He enjoys watching his husband work, the careful manner as he prepares food, the unconscious humming that carries a tune. He places yet another kiss on Patton's cheek, wanting to remain as such forever. They both take a moment to turn to the children, each excited as the animation dances across the stage. Patton takes Logans hands in his own, interlacing their fingers as they watch.

“I want another” Logan yawns, Patton continues his cooking. He shakes his head stirring the coffee pouring two even cups.

“Another kiss?” He jokes, obliging by his own manner. Logan pouts and pulls Patton back to him. “Yes dearest?” He wonders

“Another kid” Logan presses, Pattons amused smile remains but falters a tad. “I mean look at them, they're perfect” Logan smiles, his glasses drooping. Patton adjusts them for him but bites his tongue. “Come on...I was looking and talking to Lia and-” Patton interjects quickly

“Lo I don't want another kid” He admits, his brows furrowed with concern. Logan takes a step back, their hands remain connected.

“I….what?” Logan mutters “I mean...you love kids. And you're wonderful with them. I don't understand…” Patton strokes his cheek, calming the anxiety he can see forming.

“I do love kids. I love Virgils son, I adore Thomas and the twins and Terrence are my life” Patton promises, yet something is off. “I just...I don't want another kid” He restates. “Divine, we are both full time lawyers and I'm on the city counsel. We already have trouble balancing our schedules with them. Adopting a child, no matter the age would be difficult. And it wouldn't be fair on them” Patton explains.

“What about Terrence? And Jamahl?” Logan marvels, scouring his brain. “That was even more dire, you were just out of the hospital a-and you were just starting. I was just beginning to learn what it meant to be a father-”

“And you are amazing at it” Patton smiles, Logan can't find the same urge.

“Terrence was a baby, I mean we could take in a grown child...like Jamahl. Statistics show that they are less likely to be taken in and it would save us the trouble of a newborn and it would be easier to help them adjust and understand” Logan rushes, desperate. “We can do it” He assures, Pattons usual determination, his need to please Logan just couldn't conjure itself.

“I-im sorry Lo, I don't want another kid” Patton laments, finally it seems their hands find their way apart.

“Ok maybe not now, I mean maybe in the future we could-” Logan tries. Pattons hands clutch to the table, the spatula could sink into the counter.

“No Logan you're not hearing me” He whispers, wishing to keep this to themselves. “I don't want another kid, We’ve got two ten year olds. Both who have been through more than any ten year old should. Both also very familiar to a broken home, and wishing for nothing more than to keep what stability they have. We've got a little five year old who despite being just a baby was thrown through system and system and didn't know a stable and safe home until he took his first steps on that carpet over there and his over-protective brother finally trusted us” Patton takes a frustrated breath “We have full careers and If I know you, which I pride myself on, you want it go further and advance” He watches the once expression he hated so much, Logans eyes fall hopeless. He takes his cheeks, aweing so gently. “Logan, my starlight, I love you so much. I love you, and the kids and my job and my friends. I like our life. But I don't want another kid, Jamahls about to go off to college, the twins are going to be in highschool in no time and Terrence is beginning school” Patton serves the now saddened breakfast, moving to the table as he sets it. Molly whines at his feet for food, he wishes to coo but his heart feels heavy.

“Patton I-” Logan begins

“I have to go wake up Jamahl, he has SAT prep and Thomas is coming over soon to play with Terrence” Patton gives another look before disappearing behind the wall. Both take shuddered breaths fearing their own ability to stop tears. The house felt tense, hard to move through, hard to breath. Hard to stay still, why was it shaking?

“Logan” The softest voice cuts through, the lawyer sputters awake, his eyes flutter open. Virgil kneels in front of him, his hands gentle as he places a hold on the man. “He's out of surgery” Virgil informs, Logan nods before fully comprehending Virgil's words. He jumps up, rushing to the doctor who was seemingly reporting to Barbara.

“...he hasn't awoken yet but his vitals are stable for now” The man finishes, thats all Logan needed. “As you are immediate family you can see him, the rest of you will have to wait” Logans heart drops, falling below his knees. Barbara rings her hands but takes Logan.

“This is his husband” The doctor checks his chart, skeptical as to who is listed. “Its recent so he hasn't had time to update it” Barbara adds, Logan would be eternally grateful to her later. Especially as they walk through the forbidden doors and straight down to the room…

His room.  

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 12: Daddy Issues

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which Y/N is locked out of her flat with the wrong Styles.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter 11: Needy - Y/N hates herself for being so needy.

Wattpad link

[ANNOUNCEMENT]: I have an exam on Friday, September 13 so I won't be able to update next week (Wednesday, September 11). The next flatmate chapter will be posted on Wednesday, September 18. 

- Love, Allie :)

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Harry was in a bad mood today. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Y/N, because he was rarely in a good mood when she was around, but this time she felt differently. At first, she didn't pay attention to him when he walked in looking like he was attending a funeral. She guessed it must've had something to do with the exam he'd had earlier today. It was very unlikely though. He'd never done poorly on an exam let alone failed one. So she eliminated that possibility and told herself to stop second guessing.

"What the fuck?!"

Y/N heard the scream and dashed into the kitchen, only to burst out laughing when she saw him holding the milk carton with milk dripping down his chin. She was going to make a funny comment when he snapped all of a sudden, "why the fuck did you put spoiled milk in the fridge?!"

"So you'd stop drinking my milk without asking." She stuck her nose up, crossing her arms.

"You're a psycho," he muttered and wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

She watched in amusement as he tossed the carton into the bin and cleaned up the mess he'd spat on the kitchen table. It was hilarious, yet just a harmless prank. The normal Harry would just laugh it off and say something like "I've underestimated you." But the Harry standing in the kitchen with her right now didn't even move his lips. He had the same frown on his face like the moment he walked in and then walked right past her, out of the kitchen. That was when it dawned on her that this wasn't something she could just ignore. But why was he like this? What had happened today?

He didn't have dinner with her that night. She'd eaten alone many times before when he was out with his friends, but tonight she felt truly lonely. Without anyone to rant about her day to, she finished fast, cleaned the dishes on her own and spent the next half an hour pacing back and forth outside his room, wanting to knock, but in the end, she decided to go to bed. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning, she thought while lying awake until she was too drained to keep her eyes open.

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.

.

"Hey, love, can I go to Dustin's bachelor party tomorrow night?"

Y/N widened her eyes at her husband who casually poured a glass of water and settled himself at the kitchen table.

"Who's Dustin?" she asked, pulling out a chair to sit down in front of him.

"My roommate in college." He gave her a shrug. "You know, back when I was living at the dorm."

She looked at him funny. "You're still friends with him?"

"Nope. I just ran into him the other day, we went out for a few drinks and I got invited to his bachelor party," he said smugly and lifted his glass. "What can I say? Your husband is irresistible."

The way his eyebrows waggled made her laugh. "Okay, but you're a grown man, babe. You don't have to ask for my permission to go to a party."

"Are you sure?" he asked, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Because bachelor parties always have strippers and all that shit?"

She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"Well, are you?" He mirrored her expression, grinning from ear to ear.

"Very." Y/N scrunched up her nose and reached across the table to stroke his head. When she stood up, however, he hugged her waist and pulled her in so he could kiss her stomach again and again. It was his ringtone that broke them apart.

"Your dad's calling."

"Just ignore him."

"Harry!" Her mouth fell open when he muted the call and forced her down on his lap. "What if it's an emergency?!"

"It's probably just work," he mumbled, pressing his hands flat against her back as she straddled his waist. She almost got carried away by him nuzzling her breast, but the buzzing of his phone was hard to ignore.

"Just answer the phone, H." She breathed.

Still, he shook his head unapologetically. "One of our investors pissed him off, and as usual, he blamed me for it. It's nothing serious."

"Are you sure?"

Harry didn't answer as he put his phone on airplane mode and faced it down on the table. "There," he said with a grin. "Now...where were we?"

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When Y/N woke up the next day, Harry had already left their flat. She completely understood that he didn't want to talk to her, but she determined to get a word out of him when he returned tonight and maybe apologize. Now all she could do was try to stay positive and carry on with her morning routine.

Y/N always took too long in the shower, yet she could never begin the day without one. This morning, she'd told herself to spend only fifteen minutes in there. Now it'd been thirty, and she was still in the middle of rinsing off her body while belting out the chorus of her new favorite song.

But then,

"FIRE! Y/N! FIRE!"

The girl turned off the shower and poked her head out to make sure it was actually her flatmate's scream that she'd heard.

"THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE, Y/N! WE NEED TO RUN!"

Fire?!

Y/N stumbled out of the shower, holding her breath. She only managed to wrap a towel around her dripping body before rushing to the living room. Harry was nowhere to be seen but the front door was wide open. He had run before her! Of course, he left me here to die! she thought and dashed out of the flat.

But the hallway was...empty?

Peaceful, even.

Wait, if the building had been on fire then why wasn't there an alarm?

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, one hand gripping the towel, the other smacked against her forehead. Damn it!

"Wow, you were fast. At least wait for my fire alarm."

His laughter pierced through her brain and she turned around to find him standing with his back against their door, the Bluetooth speaker in his hand, and the assholest smirk on his stupid handsome face.

She marched straight toward him and pushed him hard. "What is wrong with you?! Why are you such a dick?!"

"You only say the word 'dick' when you're with me, love. I feel special."

There he was, the smug bastard she always knew.

"That was for trying to poison me," he said when she groaned into her palm. "Nice towel by the way. Baby blue looks good on you."

A part of her was still aware of the fact that she was standing in the hallway with only a towel on, but the rest of her was glad he'd stopped being mad at her. So she said nothing and pushed him aside to go before anyone saw her like this. But as she turned the handle, the door wouldn't open. She tugged at it several times, more violently and desperately, only to look up and see the same horrified look on his face.

"Please tell me you have the key," she muttered, knowing already that he certainly did not have the key, yet for some reason, she still felt shocked when he shook his head and put the speaker on the floor.

"Are you joking?! I'm naked, Harry!"

"Calm down, I'll call the locksmith!" Harry grumbled as he searched through his contact list, but then smiled at how his flatmate was pacing back and forth in only her towel.

"Don't worry, you look hot," he said, and motioned that his mouth was zipped shut when she shot him a leer.

.

.

.

Y/N couldn't believe it.

This morning when her husband left the house, she had repeatedly reminded him to not to forget his key, but now it was she who got locked out of their flat. She'd tried calling him, but he'd had his phone turned off. He never had his phone turned off when he was out and she was home alone, so she guessed all the guys at the party were asked to so and Harry didn't have a choice. Now all she could do was patiently wait for the locksmith to come for her rescue.

Sitting on the floor with her head in her hand, Y/N was too busy cursing herself in silence to hear the sound of the lift and the footsteps coming her way. It was only until the man cleared his throat loudly that she finally lifted her face, and her eyes widened at him immediately.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Devlin asked in concern.

Y/N frantically got to her feet as she straightened her dress and stuttered, "I-I left my key inside, but it's okay, I already called the locksmith."

"Where's Harry?"

"He's at a party and not answering his phone."

The answer made the man in the suit sigh as he whispered, "typical Harry..."

"No, no!" Y/N shook her head fast. "It's a bachelor party so maybe they made him turn off his phone. He's very responsible."

Devlin stared at her for a whole second before releasing another sigh, yet he remained quiet. Meanwhile, she stood still and studied his expression. She was waiting for him to speak, but also second-guessing what he was going to say next and why he was here.

"Do you know why he hasn't answered any of my calls?" He asked.

"No, sir..." she cautioned.

That answer made the man frown even harder. "What's the point of having two children when they're never there when you need them?"

Y/N almost blurted out that Devlin hadn't been there for Harry a lot of times too, but considering the fact that this man absolutely loathed her, she thought she should just keep her mouth shut.

"How are you and the baby? Good?"

The question froze her to the spot. She didn't expect him to ask about her and her baby because he hadn't said a word to congratulate them when Harry broke the news to him. But on second thought, if she hadn't been carrying his grandchild, maybe this conversation would never have lasted for more than two sentences.

"Yeah, we're good." She faked a beam, not knowing how to feel, but that concern soon slipped her mind.

The way he stood with his head hung low and hands in his pocket reminded her of Harry whenever he was nervous about something. The thought made her smile, but her father-in-law couldn't see it so he just said, "can you tell Harry that I came over?"

"What's wrong?" Her voice stopped him just as he was about to walk off. "If it's so important then you can just tell me and I'll help you speak to Harry."

Slowly, he turned around and glanced back up to meet her eyes. The Styles men were the same after all. Just like his son, Devlin couldn't say no to this young woman.

After pondering for what seemed like two seconds, he released a shaky breath. The reluctance was still etched on his face, but eventually, he gave her a nod, pinching his forehead.

"I caught my wife cheating on me."

.

.

.

"Let's talk about something fun!" Harry suggested as his face lit up, but all he received from Y/N was her passive aggressive silence.

They were sitting on the floor and she was naked, probably not the best time and place for a heart-to-heart conversation. But Harry believed he would've already died from boredom and silence by the time the locksmith arrived.

"I have nothing to say to you," she grumbled, crossing her arms, not looking at him.

She was mad, so mad that Harry could imagine smoking coming out of her ears. But there was something about the way she looked right now that made the butterflies in his stomach go insane. He bit his lip, holding back a smile as she kept adjusting the towel so her breasts wouldn't spill out. Why would she even bother to do that? He wouldn't mind. It would help his imagination the next time he shamelessly jerked off to her when he was alone. Jesus Christ, you're one fucked up bastard, said the voice in his head as he shrugged off the thought he would never say aloud and pulled his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" She almost jumped away from him but he was quick to catch her arm.

"Here." Smirking, he handed her his white t-shirt. "Put this on."

Y/N stayed utterly still as she stared at him like he'd just committed a horrible crime, and he couldn't help but chortle at the priceless reaction. "It's getting really hard for me to speak to you when you look like this. Please put this on."

Her cheeks reddened in a heartbeat. She parted her lips, wanting to ask what he really meant, but she was too shy to speak so she stayed quiet and put on his shirt. The way he was smiling at her afterward made her feel like she was more naked than before. Her arms automatically came wrapped around herself like a shield as she questioned, "what's so funny?"

"Nothing." He sounded nearly breathless. "You just...look really good in my shirt."

"Oh..." Her face dulled for a split second before she could say "thank you."

Tucking a strand behind her ear, Y/N stared at her feet to avoid eye contact at all costs. She merrily replayed those words inside her head, until she remembered that he'd probably said the same things to all the other girls. Who knew? Some of them might even have his shirts in their closet. Lending a girl his shirt and telling her she looked good in it probably didn't mean anything to him. Now she hated herself for forgetting that he flirted just for fun and for falling for his words every single time. How embarrassing.

"Are you still mad at me?" Harry asked when he saw the way she frowned.

"No."

"I can tell when you lie," he snorted. "Look, I'm sorry. I know that was a bit mean."

"A bit?!" She suddenly snarled at him. "Thanks to you I'm sitting in the hallway, half-naked—"

"Hey, hey, we're both half-naked now."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "You're a horrible person."

"So are you."

"I'm not!"

"You made me drink spoiled milk, Y/N. My stomach is weak, I could've died."

"So I guess we're even now?"

"I guess so." He flashed her a grin and offered his hand. "Truce?"

To his disappointment, she shook her head. "Only if you tell me why you were acting strange last night?"

"I wasn't—"

"Don't deny it. I can tell when you lie," she repeated exactly what he'd told her earlier as she scrunched up her nose. "Just tell me what was bothering you. Was it the exam?"

"No, I nailed the exam," he spoke calmly.

"Then what?!"

The calmer he was, the more frustrated she became.

Y/N couldn't explain why she was like this. All she knew was that it bothered her when he wasn't himself, when he raised his voice at her for no reason, or when he wasn't speaking to her at all. She was desperate to make sure he was alright, that he didn't have to keep his sorrows to himself. Who would do that for someone they claimed to hate?

No, wait.

The actual question had to be: Did she hate him, at all?

"It's nothing," his voice freed her from her confusing thoughts, and so she decided to put them aside to focus on what was more important.

"You wouldn't like to know," he said with a long sigh.

"What does that even mean?" she uttered. "You owe me the truth after all this. If you don't tell me the truth I swear I'll...well, I'll..."

She didn't know where she was going with that, but thank God, he only laughed and patted her knee to tell her to calm down. The simple gesture froze her to the spot, but it also saved her from humiliation.

He took a deep breath as his lips curved into a small smile. "My dad's getting married this weekend," he told her at last.

Y/N pursed her lips as her face contorted. "And you just found out yesterday?"

"Yup. And you know what the worst thing was?"

She shook her head.

"It was his assistant who'd invited me to his wedding." He laughed wryly. "Man, I wished it'd been a prank but, sadly no."

He was doing that again, the whole 'I laugh at my problem so no one else could' thing. If only he knew she wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug, but all that she was allowed to do was rub his shoulder and say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he gentled. "I was mad for just a while but I shouldn't have put it out on you."

"It's okay. I wish you'd just told me," she said, holding their eye contact intensely.

"Were you actually worried about me?" His voice went soft, like the gaze he was giving her.

She wished he would stop looking at her like she meant the whole world to him, when she knew that she meant nothing more than just a girl he had to live with. But then again, she couldn't resist him. She craved for him to keep staring at her this way until the day she died. That would've been the best way to kill someone, staring at them like you loved them until they couldn't take it anymore.

Ignoring the thought, she answered, "yeah, the next time you're mad...just...you don't have to tell me the reason...just let me know you're mad and I'll leave you alone."

"Don't leave me alone."

When he said that, it took her a couple of seconds to realize those were the actual words coming from his mouth. She held her breath in anticipation as he leaned in...closer...and closer...until they were just one breath away. But instead of doing what she'd wished he'd done, he rested his head on her shoulder, completely unaware of how fast her heart was racing for such intimacy. This was so new, yet so familiar, and now she was sitting like a rock as she feared he might pull away if she moved.

The locksmith arrived half an hour later, cursing the traffic as he stumbled out of the lift and mentally prepared an apology. But then he stopped, rooted to the spot as he found two half-naked college students sitting outside their flat, both were asleep, her head on his shoulder.

.

.

.

"Can you believe it?" Devlin huffed and combed his fingers through his hair as his head tossed back against the wall behind them. "A man my age, got cheated on by his second wife. What a joke."

Y/N had been listening to her father-in-law pouring his heart out for what seemed like half an hour already. Now it was time for her to speak her mind although her thoughts might not be something he would want to hear.

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself for what she did. You've done the right thing by asking for a divorce. It doesn't matter how old you are, you should never forgive a cheater."

He didn't reply, but judging from the way his expression softened, she could tell that her words had affected him, a little if not a lot.

"Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"

His question caught her off guard, still, she said no.

"Have you ever thought about what you would do if my son cheated on you?"

"Not anymore."

"So you have." He nodded once as if to agree with his prediction. "Tell me, what would you do then?"

"I would leave him," she said without reluctance. Then came a long pause as her eyes fell back to her feet. "But...that would probably hurt me more than him cheating on me. He's the only love I've ever known, I wouldn't know what to do without him. Guess I'd be half-dead, half-alive."

Devlin took time to think before he spoke, "you really love him, do you?"

"I do," she asserted. "But do you?"

The question, though simple, took him by surprise. "Of course I do," he said. "He's my son. He was the first person I called when I found out about my wife's affair."

"He should always be the first one you call, not only when you're sad or angry or hopeless." Y/N's words hit Devlin harder than he was willing to admit, but she neglected his reaction and continued anyway, "call him when you're happy, call him when you're tired, call him when you see something that reminds you of him, or just...call him to say you're proud of him and that you miss him and you love him. You don't know how much it'll mean to Harry."

She wasn't sure what to expect as a reaction, but it certainly wouldn't be him pulling her into a hug. Her whole body stiffened, only to relaxed all at once as she finally hugged him in return.

"My grandchild is lucky to have such good parents," Devlin whispered in her ear. And Y/N swore she could feel that same dimpled smile she'd always seen on her husband.

Half an hour later, Harry came home, slightly tipsy and smelling like those frat parties he'd wasted his youth on. He hadn't planned on drinking so much if at all, but they wouldn't have let him leave early had he refused to drink. He cursed himself as he stumbled out of the lift with an apology he'd already drafted in his head. But then he stopped, feeling shocked and amused at the same time as he found his wife and his father sitting outside their flat, both were asleep, her head on his shoulder.

[exobyharu]

PCY - One Shot

Image source to follow. I just Googled it like this

“You just freaking downgraded me!”

Summary: PCY knows that he’s being a five -year-old for treating you like a guy. But what’s a man to do when the girl he likes is taken? Here’s a friendly little back and forth with PCY a few days after you break up with your boyfriend.

⏰10:01 AM

🌏A deserted mall parking lot, but only because it’s not open yet

🌞The kind of sunny that makes PCY squint.

👥YN, Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun (mentioned), YBN (your ex-boyfriend) (mentioned)

Notes: It’s been forever! But I’m still alive! There’s a little mention of implied violence, but it’s all just cute, really. Sorry I take too long! 

Words: ~2,100

💙💙💙

“Or you can quit telling me how to live my life, Chanyeol,” you complain, putting your phone down because you finally spot Chanyeol getting down their company car in his glorious failure of a disguise – a white cap and facemask, worn under a hoodie with the word BALENCIAGA spelled in angry bold letters across his broad back. For an idol who has spent years in the limelight, you would think that the guy had grown wiser in his choice of outfits for public places like, this instance, a mall parking lot. Even that middle-aged woman raking leaves across the entrance gives him a second look.

Who wouldn’t?

Because there is no need to walk like that – with a slight upward tilt in his head, one hand pressing a phone to his ear and the other on his hip, strutting confidently with smooth, long strides. You make a mental note to remind him that the pavement is no catwalk. It’s almost mesmerising, watching a real-life supermodel approach you, looking fresh even when his eyes are squinting hard against the mid-morning sun.

About three meters away, his voice is distinctly Chanyeol, but just a bit huskier than usual as if he is dying to put on a show. Too bad there seems to be no one else watching but you.

“It’s real! You’re here!“ he calls out anyway, extending a clenched fist – a move that you recognise is reserved for his male friends. You stare at the fist bump that never happened, knowing well what he would say if you take his bait. Something along the lines of: For a man, your hands are small, or How’s my brother in a woman’s body? or That’s my little YN-niee! which is always followed by Yah! I really wish you were born a guy!

So you stare at his hand, not sharing the level of his excitement. Shit just happened. You have too little energy to deal with Chanyeol’s fantasies of you as his younger brother. When he notices your lack of enthusiasm, his outstretched hand goes for your head and attempts to mess your hair up instead. “You must be desperate to waste money. The mall does not open in an hour.”

Just desperate to get out of my head, really.

On a regular day, you would hate even the wind for ruining your hair. But this time, his hands are surprisingly gentle. You make an effort to ignore how it feels and snap back at him, anyway. “It’s called Retail Therapy. You just don’t understand the joy of buying yourself new clothes because you never have to.”

He proudly concurs with a smug raise of his brows. “That’s true. I never have to.” It’s that attitude of his that always earns him a slap to his arm. But his fingers are playfully combing through your hair now, and you do not exactly hate the feeling. So you just let him, hoping nobody with a camera on his person ever sees this happening.

“Meanwhile, may I comment that the whole look you went for this morning is aptly low profile,” you tell him for the sake of saying something.

But what you say makes him tug at his training pants reflexively. “These?”

When he removes his cap, pulls down his mask, and appraises his outfit, you realise that he had just overlooked your sarcasm.

“Uh-huh. It totally pleads Don’t Stalk Me, Dispatch. I'm Not Park Chanyeol, I Promise.”

He chuckles. “It’s protection,” he reasons, completely getting rid of the cap and mask.

“Protection? From what? The sun?”

This time, it is you, genuinely not picking up on the joke – or pun – either way, you know that he spends quite a lot of time with his good friend Baekhyun who gives equally horrible punch lines. You have met the guy a few times and you are sure that the baffled look you had on your face is the exact same one you’re giving Chanyeol at the moment.

He seems to enjoy it. It takes him a few seconds to explain. “It’s protection from you.”

From me?

“Excuse you, but I’m the one who needs protecting!” You argue and it makes him grin from ear to ear. You realise that you had just given him the reaction he was hoping to get.

“No, you don’t,” he insists, “Based on last night’s phone call, you’re upset over your boyfriend. And do you know what you do when you’re upset, in general?”

“What?” Frankly, you know that you do a lot of things.

“You flail your arms around and hit people!” Chanyeol exclaims, and then he stretches his arms out and flaps them, trying to imitate how you’re supposed to look. It’s ridiculous how he is making it appear worse than it actually is. “You and your little man paws! Hitting innocent people all because your boyfriend made you cry again! It’s about time–””

“Yah! For the final time, Chanyeol, I am not a man! Also, must I tell you, he’s not my boyfriend anymore!”

“Shut it! You are one of us so that makes you a – wait, you… He… What?” There’s a bit of a delay, but in a snap, his energy drops, his eyes grow wide and your first point is now obviously abandoned.

“It’s what I said,” you clarify reluctantly. “And, my main point right now, please stop treating me like a guy, already!”

Chanyeol’s not hearing any of what you just said. His eyes remain on yours, searching for any hint of a lie.

He does not find one. “You’re saying… That YBN is not?? …Anymore?”

Again, the same reaction. It’s the same words, the same tone, the same look of caution and concern – it’s always the same questions every time you tell somebody new. All the repetitive explaining is starting to become more painful than the breakup itself. You hate it more than you can express. It makes you lose it for a moment and yell at your friend with careless regard for your surroundings. “You understood the first time! Why does everyone want me to spell it out?!”

That is when you realise that he is right. Your hands have a mind of their own.

“Yah! Yah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Chanyeol whines, using his forearm to fend off a jab that you were about to give him. Just as he had predicted. “Watch out because people around here will know who you’re hitting. Do that a few more times and you’ll be exposed. My fans won’t like it!”

You roll your eyes at his sudden mood shift after confirming your breakup. There’s no way you’re missing Chanyeol’s smile that is starting to inch in. He never really liked YBN. Now that you’ve broken up with the guy, you can already hear the satisfaction dripping in his voice when he delivers his much anticipated I told you so because this time, he’s right. You grumble, exceptionally annoyed, because of how right he is.

“Anywaaaay, back to why I need protecting…  You’re right. He nearly hit me.”

And you wonder why Chanyeol’s pretty slow on the uptake this morning. He takes two seconds.

“What!?” Finally, his eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. He takes another second to shake his head from disbelief and then asks again. “He what?!”

This morning, Chanyeol’s a freaking cartoon. His aggravated expression seems out of place, given how much he has been confronting you about your now-ex-boyfriend’s alleged tendency towards violence. He saw it coming. Why is he so surprised? Your eyes roll.

“Relaaaaax. I’m more capable than I look. I started training for–”

“Stop that!” he interrupts, dismissing all humour from the situation. “He hit you?!” And he’s angry, possibly even more furious than your father had been. You certainly don’t remember doing anything that warranted any scolding. But here he is, getting all worked up while you stand your ground with hands in your pockets because you are starting to pick on your nails. Despite your nerves, you try to remain as calm as you could, and you are determined to make him realise that you’re not the enemy here.

“You’re not listening to me, Chanyeol! I said he nearly, and by nearly, I mean he missed. He punched the wall behind my face instead.”

You say it with a convincing smile, but Chanyeol still does not respond. He inhales sharply and looks up the sky, pulling his hair – what he does whenever he could not get his point across.

“But I’m kinda proud of myself, so thanks for asking twice,” you continue, still grinning at him and trying to keep it cool. You’re not about to just watch him blow up. Not now and certainly not here. An angry Chanyeol is not a fun Chanyeol. So you let the silence ensue as you watch him, whose eyes are still closed and is obviously putting in the effort, himself.  

He fails.

“Fucking hell. Who hits a woman!?” All of a sudden, he starts to furiously rub his face against his palms until his nose turns pink. “Does he know who he’s messing with? Have you seen how small he stands beside me? I could crush him with–”

“Park Chanyeol!” You yell at him this time, because it is the only way to snap him out of it. “He messed with me. Not you. And I’ll remind you that you’re my dad’s student, not my bodyguard!”

“But I am also your friend!”

That had done it. He yells even louder, causing a dog to bark in the distance. It brings him back to the present, as you notice him consciously steal a side glance at the parking entrance, making sure nobody has come to watch the show.

When he sees that nobody’s there, he grumbles something incoherent. I’m a special friend, it sounded very much like. But he shakes his head again and promptly rephrases that. “Look, I am your good friend, first of all! I can’t believe you just freaking downgraded me!”

That you did. But that’s only because you think he’s getting too involved in this. You’ve let it go.

Why couldn’t he?

“You see, this is why I didn’t get to join your family’s dinner last Friday. Also, this is why I didn’t tell you over the phone! Look at you!”

He does. He realises that his hands are now impulsively clenched into fists at his sides, and his feet, apart, and planted to the ground as if he is preparing for a fight. With you.

“Calm down a little? I had enough testosterone when I told my dad about it last night,” you explain. You’re not about to let yourself get another round of scolding. This morning is all about recovery. “I promise I’m okay and I’ll feel even better when I get to shop for things I like!”

Your false eagerness seems to exasperate him even more. “Again, that’s a waste of money. You’ll surely buy clothes you won’t wear again!”

“How am I supposed to… Give me alternatives then!” you demand. He’s got way too much opinions any way.

But Chanyeol accepts his chance and then he goes, “Hm,” full of scrutiny, as if he has something better in mind. It turns out that he actually does. And by better, he means better by his standards. “How about I teach you how to throw a proper punch?”

“You mean, boxing?”

He nods.

And you think hell no. You eye him suspiciously, peering at him from under his cap that he had just placed on your head. “If this about making me a man, I swear to–”

“Come on, just come on! I’ll make it fun!” His mood seems to shift for good this time. “We can tape his face on the punching bag and you can pretend to be hitting him!”

“Nice try, but that only hurts my hands. It’ll make no difference,” you tell him, even though a part of you considers the idea an entertaining way to get over yourself already.

“It will, I promise. I’ll fund your next shopping spree if I don’t convince you.”

The suggestion gets you thinking even more. It’s not a bad deal, is it? You bite the bullet and Chanyeol sees that he’s got the upper hand. You both smile. “Any more benefits?” you ask. And his response comes as a reflex. “That, and I’ll make sure your punches reach him through me.”

“Park Chanyeol!”

“Hahaha! I’m just kidding!” Chanyeol promises, playfully holding his fists out in front of you. You don’t quite miss that devious smirk. “Or am I?”

💙💙💙

- end - 

[drun-in-a-million]

@egan-first-of-his-name

The journey to Madej was not easy. There didn’t seem to be a real path or road of any sort. The woods were thick and dark, littered with sharp, thorny vines and bushes. Not to mention he was pretty sure the trees would shift here and there, making him get turned around several times. He huffed. He typically had such a good sense of direction. This was ridiculous.

“Okay...I think this is new?” He muttered to himself. He was still quite a ways from the actual town. In fact, it seemed like he’d been sent in almost a semi-circle around it. “Ugh. I’m glad no one from home is around. The joke about being like Dad wouldn’t stop.”

He continued walking, barely avoiding tripping over a large stone. There was a river over here that Rejika had warned him about. Sometimes the water would do...strange things, she said. Besides randomly flowing backwards. “There’s honestly too much to really explain,” she’d told him.

He would have to cross that river eventually. Madej was partially surrounded by it. It seemed it wasn’t too far now. Just a little further and it would be visible.

Suddenly, a noise caught Drun’s attention. A low, dangerous growl. His antennae shook, his whole being telling him that there was danger nearby. He swallowed, as he looked around, planting his feet. A small flurry of ice appeared in his hand, ready to fight. “Hello?”

The growl became an echoing snarl as a huge beast barreled in from the trees. Drun couldn’t tell what it really was. At first glance it looked like some kind of giant cat except is also had feathers? And six eyes? What was this thing? However before he could search through his memories of things the various Dibs in his life had told him about, the creature was charging at him.

Drun yelped, tumbling out of the way of the attack. The beast had huge paws that could easily slam him into a tree or two. He scrambled to his feet, sending tons of ice and snow at the huge adversary. The beast, mildly irritated, was hit once by the small blizzard before dodging the rest of Drun’s attack and charging again.

‘Shit!” Drun yelped, activating his PAK legs to help him scurry up the nearest tree. The creature roared, wasting no time unfurling a giant pair of wings and following him up. “Oh, come on!”

The beast swatted at some of the branches, which sent Drun crashing back to the ground. He thanked his PAK legs for catching him, stabbing the ground as he caught himself to keep from getting too injured. He’d come this far. He was not about to fuck it up by getting injured but some overgrown chicken cat!

The chicken cat, however, seemed determined to tear him into itty bitty shreds. It snarled, this time flying at Drun at a speed he didn’t think could be possible for a creature of that size. Drun brought up his hands, a huge wave of ice aimed at the creature. It hardly seemed fazed. 

Just when Drun thought he was doomed, something bright and warm shot between him and the beast. The beast stumbled to a sudden landing, snorting in agitation. Drun’s eyes widened as the fire reappear again, this time aimed directly at the creature. The beast gave a growl before taking off. Drun’s brow furrowed. Where had…

The flames, which were slowly disappearing, could be followed to a hard to see figure. As the person became more visible, Drun could see it was a boy possibly around his age. Maybe a little younger? It was typically not easy for him to tell since he was pretty tall. This boy came to his chest, and had messy black hair. He had...one eye? Blue skin? Wait, hadn’t the Mefni not wanted to come here? Brix hadn’t seemed to want anyone coming here…

“Are you alright?” The boy asked, looking up at Drun with concern. Even in the dark woods, he could tell that the boy’s eye color was not the same, startling green as the other Mefni. He’d have to wait for better light to figure out the actual color, though. 

“Uh...yeah. Um...thanks.” Drun brushed himself off and cleared his throat. “Thanks, by the way.”

The boy shrugged. “Not a big deal. I ran into that thing twice in here, I think.” His eye flickered around the trees before looking back at Drun. “You look...familiar by the way.”

Drun sighed. Great. Another person to know him for only one thing. “Um...I’m a prince of Lazuroth. That might be how you know me.”

The boy’s eye widened with recognition and then he suddenly took a step back. Well, Drun was used to that too. They were either to intimidated or they only wanted to be his friend for clout. “Look...um...please don’t make a big deal out of this? I’m just a person like you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can I ask your name? And why you’re out in these woods?’

The boy shuffled his feet but he nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Egan. As for why I’m here...well…”

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

Both boys froze, looking toward where the sound of that voice had come from. Drun’s sydark pounded. He was so close. He could tell.

It then occurred to him that Egan had reacted as well. “Wait...did you...did you hear that too?”

Egan looked up at him, appearing just as shocked that Drun could hear it. “Yeah. I’ve...I’ve been hearing it for a while. My mom, too.”

Drun’s brow furrowed. “...Wait, just your mom? I thought the whole clans were hearing it?”

“Oh...I’m not from here…” Egan explained. “I’m from the Galactic Alliance. It’s how I knew who you were.”

Something was tickling at the back of Drun’s mind, like he should be putting two and two together. But he could make the connection right now. Not with that voice singing louder than ever before.

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

“Well...I guess I won’t be doing this alone after all, then,” Drun said. He offered Egan a friendly smile.

Egan’s smile was shaky but just as genuine. “Yeah...good to know.” He pulled out a tablet which seemed to have the same coordinates that Drun had on his phone. “It’s not too much further. We just have to cross the river.”

“Right,” Drun agreed as the two trudged forward.

.00000000000000

Besides discovering that the river in question was floating above the bed it typically flowed in, the rest of the journey was without incident. The two boys made idle conversation here and there. Drun had nearly forgotten about the twinge of familiarity he’d felt earlier. Now he was feeling something else entirely. Something...strange and deep. Something that stirred more the closer they got to Madej.

He should not have been surprised when they found the town and it was literally a dark and barren wasteland. Not a single building remained, and the ground appeared permanently singed even after all these years. The air was dead quiet save for his and Egan’s footsteps. A cloud of ash and soot seemed to grip the entire place in a tight hold.

“My mom told me that the story of the Ignited Bride is why fire Mefni are treated so differently,” Egan suddenly said, idly creating little flames on his fingers. “They were already viewed with caution, but after what happened people see them as something to be feared. Dangerous.”

Drun shook his head. “My sister has fire powers. She told me there was a time where she was scared of herself. But she’s not anymore. And she only uses them when it’s truly needed. Well..unless she’s lighting a fireplace like a show off.”

Egan snorted. “If you’re talking about the sister I’m thinking of, I feel like she’s kind of the exception to a lot of rules.”

Drun shrugged. “To be fair, people on Lazuroth get scared of me. And we’re surrounded by ice and snow.” He makes a littler flurry before making it disappear. “People fear what they don’t understand. Fear makes us do stupid things.”

Egan looked deep in thought for a moment, but also sort of comforted. “...My dad has said the same thing.” He gave a laugh. “Path to the dark side, am I right?”

Drun couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah. For sure.”

As both boy shared a laugh, the voice returned. It sounded like the singer was right there next the them, singing at the top of their lungs.

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

Ah ahh ah ahhh

AH AHH AH AHHH~

AH AHH AH AHHH~

“Ah ahh ah ahhh~” Egan sang back without missing a beat. Drun looked at him strangely for a moment, only to met with the other boy’s one eyed gaze. Drun didn’t think a look could look challenging and encouraging all at the same time.

“Ah ahh ah ahhh!” Drun sang loudly, matching up with Egan and the mysterious voice that had called them here.

It was like an explosion, a loud rush of light and magic. The soot and ash cleared a swirled. The three voices filled the air, swirling with the sudden wind. Egan yelped as his shoulders and arms erupted in flames. Drun was about to express his concern when his own powers came forth, a small blizzard of snowflakes shooting around them. The boys were suddenly surrounded by a cyclone of fire and ice. It should have been terrifying. And yet...it wasn’t. In fact, combined with the voice it was almost comforting. It was like finding what you were looking for, reaching for it but it’s still just barely out of your reach.

Drun turned back to Egan. It was like something had tied them together and was trying to pull them closer. Judging by the strange look on Egan’s face, he felt it, too. Tentatively, they both reached out for one another, taking each others hand in a firm hold.

AH AHH AH AH AHHHH~

The swirling got faster, lighting up the surrounding area around them. It was then that Drun noticed the color of Egan’s eye. Ice blue. He’d seen that color before, hadn’t he? Why was it so hard to think of now?

They found themselves surrounded by figures, shadows of memories appearing in the flurries and flames. Drun’s mother and father meeting on Lazuroth. Addie traveling back in time. The first revolution. Addie meeting Chance… Chance. Wait a second!

That when Drun saw the other shadows that appeared. A man with dark hair and icey eyes. A past wrought with pain and blood and regret. Egan even looked a little afraid at some points. But then a change of heart. A shutting of a door left opened for far too long. His mother. A fire Mefni. An Ozynite.

No wonder he was so nervous around Drun.

Drun could be dense sometimes, but he knew a person was not their parents, that they could not be faulted for a past they weren’t even a part of. He gave Egan’s hand a squeeze. The short boy looked up at him. There was that strange, binding feeling again. What was it? What did any of this mean? However, the questions didn’t stop Drun from taking Egan’s other hand. 

Another eruption of magic happened, and the ground gave way under Drun and Egan, plunging them into darkness.

[raywritesthings]

Wrong Road to the Right Place 20/?

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, John Diggle, Tommy Merlyn, Helena Bertinelli, Quentin Lance, Moira Queen, Malcolm Merlyn, McKenna Hall, Thea Queen, Walter Steele, Raisa, Lucas Hilton Pairings: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel finds herself curious about the marks Oliver showed her that night in his bedroom - and the tattoo on his left shoulder stands out in particular. When she discovers its meaning, she finds herself questioning everything she knows about the man she doesn’t want to admit she still loves. *Can also be read on my AO3 page* 

Helena wasn’t sure what to think about the card that appeared on her bedside table one morning. Mandragora’s, 1:30. Lunch on me.

A quick search on her phone showed that Mandragora’s was in fact a restaurant in Hub City, where she’d made her camp the last couple of weeks. It was close enough to Starling should new information about her father surface, but far enough away that she wasn’t recognized. Clearly, however, someone had recognized her.

She wouldn’t know who unless she went to this meeting. So Helena packed a small pistol in her clutch and went to lunch.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. I was, uh, invited to lunch, only I wasn’t made aware of the name under reservation.”

The woman looked her over. “I’m guessing you’re with the party of four in the back. If you’ll follow me.”

Party of four, was it? She was outnumbered. Interesting.

Yet as Helena was led around a corner to a booth near the back, she couldn’t help a disbelieving laugh.

“You really have to be joking.”

“Helena.” Laurel Lance looked up with a perfectly pleasant smile. Beside her, Oliver was grimacing. “Glad you could make it.”

“Considering the last double date went so well,” Tommy Merlyn added with wry humor. “Have a seat?”

She did so next to him against her better judgment and accepted the wine list. “And here I thought you all wanted nothing to do with me anymore. There must be something you want,” she said, eyeing Oliver over the menu. He wouldn’t be here unless she had something he needed.

“We have a situation back home, Helena. Mob situation.”

“Which mob?”

“Bratva.”

“Then why come to me?” She set the menu down and leaned forward. “Unless this has to do with my father, I’m not interested.”

“The Bratva arranged a hit on a family two nights ago. Mother, father and a little boy,” Laurel told her. “We were able to help them, but if the Bratva has their way then all of them will be killed.”

Her grip tightened on her clutch. “So?”

“So I think this matters to you, Helena,” Oliver said, picking up smoothly from Laurel. God, it was almost sickening how in sync they were. “You got into all this in the first place because you were trying to stop your father. You wanted justice.”

“And now I want vengeance,” she hissed, more because the waitress was approaching than anything. Helena turned to her and said, “I’ll have the house red.”

The waitress left again, and surprisingly it was Tommy who spoke up next. “Look, far be it from me to dissuade someone from hating their own father with every fiber of their being. I understand, really I do. But we’re asking you to think about the end goal here.”

“The end goal?” Helena echoed dubiously.

“What happens after your father? Now that he’s been captured, have the crimes he was known for stopped? No, because the other mobs keep vying for control and they’re all just as bad.” He leaned closer to her, eyes boring into hers, clearly trying to fit all of his words in before the return of their waitress with her wine. “What matters more to you, seeing him dead? Or making sure no one like him gets to hurt innocents again? No one has to lose the person who matters most to them.”

Helena turned away from him and towards the waitress to hide her swallow. She made the mistake of briefly making eye contact with Laurel across from her, who definitely saw it.

It was after they ordered their meals and the waitress left them that she had a moment to ask, “Why do you really need me? I know Oliver. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t desperate.”

Oliver grimaced but didn’t deny the accusation. “There’s another situation that requires our attention. Time-sensitive.”

“What is it?”

He remained silent.

Helena leaned back. “If you’re not willing to be honest with me—”

“This situation affects hundreds of people, Helena. That’s how sensitive it is,” said Laurel. “If we’re not careful, we put all those people at risk.”

She glanced around at them all. None of them were cracking.

“Well then, that’s my price. You don’t share your information with me, I don’t help you.”

There was a tense moment when the friends all looked around at each other. They were communicating without words, and it was hard for even her to follow.

At last, Tommy said, “You’ll have to come back to the Verdant with us. It’s not a lunch conversation.”

“You’ll smuggle me in under cover of darkness?”

“What other way to do it?”

She studied his eyes behind the cheeky grin. There was something decidedly quick about Tommy Merlyn, and she was pretty sure most people missed it. But it seemed he was shedding the devil-may-care playboy facade for good. “Fine. This should at least be interesting.”

She had no idea how right she was.

“Your father’s going to sink this whole side of town so he can replace it for a shopping center?” And she thought her own father was a bastard! He still was, of course, but this took the cake.

“We don’t know what his future plans for the land are and they don’t matter, because we’re not letting them happen,” Laurel told her. “As soon as we find the second device.”

“Which you might not.” Helena shrugged and studied each of them, which now includes Oliver’s bodyguard and partner John Diggle who had joined them in the base. She was pleased to note he was eyeing her just as warily as before. “So why don’t I just take care of him? If none of you will.”

“Look, he’s sick in the head, but let’s not get into the premeditated crimes,” Tommy warned them.

Oliver shook his head. “It’s not a question of wanting. It’s a question of ability. Merlyn is the copycat archer who sought me out at Christmas. He is on a level I can barely match. A crossbow isn’t going to cut it, Helena.”

She hadn’t slacked in her training in the months since they’d parted ways, but even she knew she’d be hard-pressed to beat someone who could best him.

“So the Bratva?” She asked instead.

“Haven’t made their move yet since Rasmus’ hitman was taken in by the police. But I know where they’re located out of. What we want to start off with is monitoring them.”

“Figure out their schedule so we can hit them when the most of them are there,” Helena summarized. She’d played this game before.

“Right. For now, we’re going to focus on the Undertaking,” Oliver said.

“Which starts with me stopping by dear old dad’s to see if I can spy a little and see where he’s planning to put that second device,” Tommy added. Helena smirked. She’d used her own closeness to her father to organize her attacks on his organization often enough to appreciate the tactic.

“You’ll need to be careful,” Laurel cautioned him. “Even if your father is acting nicer than usual, we don’t want to find out what happens if he knows you know his plan. He’s proven willing to kidnap and murder his own friends, and I can’t see him stopping at family.”

Helena thought she saw Tommy swallow heavily, but he rallied and replied, “I’ve been pretty sure my father would kill me on plenty of occasions, Laurel. Consider careful my personal motto.”

Judging by Oliver and Laurel’s shared doubtful look, Helena wondered if Tommy even knew the definition of the word.

“I’ll be speaking to my mother, as well,” Oliver revealed.

“What makes you think she’ll talk this time, Oliver?” Asked Diggle. “Even if you confront her with the files, she might just burn those like she burned the other copy of the list.”

“I won’t be taking the files with me,” was his answer. “You’ll have them. And I’ll tell her that if she doesn’t turn her back on Merlyn now, then those files will be going to Detective Lance and the SCPD.”

Helena’s eyes widened. She knew Oliver let little get in the way of his precious mission, but this felt like a line she’d cross while he’d be trying to stop her.

Clearly she wasn’t the only one who was shocked. Laurel reached for his arm. “Ollie, are you sure? I know you didn’t want her getting in trouble.”

“There’s too many people she’s putting at risk by complying with him. If she forces my hand, I don’t have a choice.” He looked down and swallowed. “And truthfully, I haven’t forgiven her for what she tried to have done to you.”

Laurel bit her lip. “I didn’t want to tear you apart from your family like this.”

“You didn’t. She made the choice.”

Helena knew she had to be missing something here — and something big, judging by the serious expression even Tommy wore — but for once she didn’t feel comfortable interrupting with some remark. She knew the look in Oliver’s eye when he spoke about what his mother had nearly done.

It was the same look she’d worn ever since her father had had Michael killed.

Diggle came forward with two small boxes that he passed out to her and Tommy. “These are comms so we can all get in touch with each other at any time. Do not use anyone’s real names on here, because there’s been enough compromised identities,” Diggle warned.

“Fine. So, Hood, Huntress,” she listed off, pointing to Oliver and then herself. “Who are you three?”

“Black Canary,” Laurel answered promptly.

Helena smirked. “Cute.”

Diggle was frowning in thought. “Spartan.”

Laurel, who had narrowed her eyes at Helena’s remark, immediately brightened back up. She really was a sweet little bird. “Military, right. It fits you.”

There was a pause as they all turned to Tommy. “I don’t really have one,” he admitted.

“You’ll have to come up with something we can use,” Oliver said.

“Well, what’d you all call me before you knew who I was?”

Helena watched in some amusement as Oliver, Laurel and Diggle all glanced around at each other. “Mostly the guy with the questions,” Diggle finally answered.

“So, Question then?” Laurel offered.

“You could be Q,” Helena suggested dryly.

“Hey, I’m not the guy that sits in the basement and makes all the stuff. I have the look, the style, the ladies a lot of the time. That’s Bond,” Tommy protested. “I am at least like Brosnan-level Bond, give me that.”

Helena turned away rather than let him see the smile that was starting to form on her lips. God, he was so strange.

Laurel was taking her phone out of her bag. “I’ve got some missed calls. Dad mostly, from the looks of it. And my landlord.”

“If you need to take that, we should be fine,” Oliver told her.

“Thanks. I’ll try and make it quick.” She pecked her boyfriend on the cheek and then walked up to Helena for some reason. “Helena, I do want to thank you for agreeing to help us.”

“I’m doing this for me.”

Laurel frustratingly looked undeterred. “Still. Thank you.” Then she left the base. Probably thought this made them girlfriends or something. Helena hadn’t had friends, period, in years.

She glanced over at Tommy who had taken his comm out of the box and seemed to be fiddling with it. “So, uh, how does this work?”

She shook her head and went over to help him. It would make her job harder if he didn’t know what he was doing, that was all. The winning smile he gave her was just his choice.

—-

Quentin was having a week, to put it lightly. His focus was being pulled in so many different directions it was making his head spin.

His investigation into the Verdant had been a dud, true, but the Queen family was still full of surprises. Walter Steele’s unexpected return yielded little aside from the Hood’s apparent involvement, and Quentin had a feeling if he tried calling the vigilante to ask about it he wouldn’t get much out of him.

Then there was the break in at Unidac Industries, owned by the Queen family. The Hood’s rival had apparently made a visit to the labs and left a trail of bodies in his wake.

But a janitor at the facility had a different story.

“There was a man that came in, but he didn’t have any arrows. He had some kind of gun that fired knockout darts or something. I locked myself in the supply closet to phone the cops, so I didn’t see what he was after,” the older man told him with a shrug. “By the time the first responders came through, that copycat from the holidays had been there, too.”

So he’d been following up on an earlier break-in, just like he’d followed up on Adam Hunt and some of the others the Hood has started out targeting last year. But why?

“And what did this first guy look like?”

“Didn’t see much. He wore dark clothing, had on a helmet of some kind that covered his whole face.”

The Hood and the Helmet. Just great. What sort of headgear would pop up next?

“And you’re sure you don’t know what he was after?”

“That’s all above my pay grade, Detective.”

Quentin sighed. “Alright, thanks.”

Now he was stuck trying to puzzle through that scant amount of information, and alone since Hilton was busy interrogating the guy that had been picked up outside of Laurel’s clients’ house and Hall had taken it upon herself to drive out to Merlyn Manor in order to follow up her lead about Robert Queen’s curious property investments before he died. There really was just too much going on in this city.

It didn’t seem like Helmet and the copycat archer were in league, but why come to the same place on the same night? And what had been the original goal that was now covered up by a massacre? A cover-up was something. Maybe the copycat had had his eyes on Unidac for something, something Helmet’s break-in would have exposed. But what?

He’d need to make another visit to the Queen Manor for answers. Just great.

Before he could even leave to do that, however, Hilton called out to him. “Quentin, I just got off the phone with the fire department. They got a suspected arson.”

“Alright, well—” He began, trying to think of who to delegate to. Even he was willing to admit he was juggling a lot right now.

“It’s at Laurel’s apartment.”

He froze. “Was she—?”

“No one was home.”

He let out a breath. “We’ll head over.”

Quentin called his daughter twice on the way but received no answer. Where was she? 

The fire itself hadn’t been so bad. A flaming rag tied around a rock had been tossed through the window, and the sprinklers had taken care of things for the most part. But someone would have needed to climb up three whole flights to even reach her window. This had been deliberate and motivated. What was his girl getting mixed up in now?

“Could be someone working for Rasmus,” Hilt suggested. “That’s who hired the hit man, according to his statement.”

Jesus, it wasn’t enough for these people to be rich, was it? They just had to keep throwing their weight around! He almost couldn’t blame the Hood for doing what he did behind a mask — but that was going down a dangerous road.

Hurried footsteps and a voice outside alerted him to Laurel’s presence. “Yes, I understand and I’m checking the damage for myself right now. I know, it’s a lot to pay for.” His daughter ducked under the caution tape and entered the living room. “I’ll make time to stop by your office as soon as possible. Thank you.” She hung up and looked around with a sort of hapless chagrin. “Well, there goes my security deposit for sure.”

“You’ve still been staying in that basement at Queen’s place?” Quentin asked straight away. When she nodded, he said, “Good. Don’t give anyone else your address.”

“Is this all the stuff from the hall closet?” Laurel asked, pointing to a pile of smoky-looking linens and a couple boxes with blackened sides. She took off the lid and started going through one.

“We’re looking at Edward Rasmus as the mastermind behind this stunt,” Hilton told her. “He sent a hitman to visit the Moore home last night. He was stopped by a masked man in black, and one other unseen assailant.”

“I heard. And you’re probably right. Rasmus has connections.”

“What kind of connections?” Quentin asked her. “And why do you know about them?”

“I hear things.” Laurel frowned as she continued digging through the box. “I hope it wasn’t damaged — Oh, good,” she said with relief as she lifted an old plush shark toy out. Quentin’s throat closed up for a moment. He hadn’t seen that old thing in years.

But eventually he cleared his throat and said, “Laurel what connections?”

Laurel’s tone was carefully light as she replied, “Mob.”

He knew it. He’d just known it had been way too good to be true that she’d dropped all of that. Everything Merlyn has said about her looking up things about the Triad, their strike at Malcolm Merlyn hitting her instead. Something was going on.

“Can you give us a minute?” He asked his partner. Holt nodded and stepped out of the apartment. “Laurel.”

“I know, dad,” she said with a sigh, finally setting Sara’s old shark down.

“I begged you to get yourself out of this.”

“But I can’t, dad. Rasmus would have sent that man after the Moore family whether I knew about his ties to the Bratva or not.”

“Who’s your guy with the Bratva. We can get him immunity. Witness protection.”

But Laurel was shaking her head. “He doesn’t want that, he wants to stay. He has to stay, dad, or so much worse is going to happen than this little scare tactic.”

Laurel waved her arm around her apartment, but Quentin’s mind was going a mile a minute. The way she talked about him… it couldn’t be. But nothing else made sense.

“The Hood’s ex-Bratva.”

Laurel drew back. “You know I can’t answer that.”

“Can’t or won’t, because those are two very different things.”

She only kept looking at him. Quentin sighed. He’d known for a while now that she was in support of the Hood. It was only a matter of time before she would’ve started working with him, and especially after the vigilante had taken such a keen interest in her cases.

She was flouting the law doing so, but then could he really condemn her when he’d traded — or attempted to trade — information with the man himself? The Hood has caught the Savior when known of them could; he had cleared the path for the officers to make it into Vertigo’s warehouse to arrest the drug dealer; he had even rescued Walter Steele, a man who based on income fit the Hood’s usual target profile. His kills had decreased dramatically. If this was a man trying to turn away from the life of a mobster into something else, was he truly the phantom evil Quentin had hunted for months? Was Laurel wrong time reach out and help to rehabilitate him, when rehabilitation was what a society claimed to do?

He hated having these questions with no simple answers. All his life he had believed in the law and the good it could do — but the law had never wronged him the way it had some.

His cell rang, and Quentin elf up a hand to indicate they weren’t yet done before answering it. “Lance.”

“Detective, it’s Kelton,” the CSU tech said. “I’ve been looking at the ingoing and outgoing communications from Unidac the night of the massacre, and I found something interesting. One of their head scientist’s last known calls shortly after the initial break-in was to a number at Merlyn Global.”

“Merlyn? But Unidac’s a Queen property.”

“It is, but that’s who received that last call.”

Something wasn’t right. First that false wall in Merlyn’s penthouse office, now this call to his company. “Hall’s out his way now. I better meet her up while she’s got his time. Thanks for the tip.”

“Everything okay?” Laurel asked as he hung up.

“Different case. Look, we’re gonna talk about what you meant by ‘so much worse’, alright? Just once everything’s calmed down a little.”

Laurel nodded. “Yeah, dad. That’s fine.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. He hadn’t gotten that easy of an acquiescence from his eldest since she learned the word no. It’s how he’d known she’d make a great lawyer one day.

But one thing at a time. A whole laboratory of scientists was dead and Malcolm Merlyn seemed to know something about it. That had to take priority. When Laurel followed him out of the apartment with only the one box under her arm, however, he gave her a look.

“Most of my stuff was already with Ollie’s. I’m coming back tomorrow to break my lease with the landlord.” She leaned in close to give him a one-armed hug. “Stay safe, okay?”

“I should be telling you that,” he said, his lips pressing to the side of her head for a moment. Then they both pulled away.

Once he had this whole Merlyn situation squared away, he’d be taking a good, hard look at the Bratva. If they thought they could leave a threatening message for his daughter without any sort of repercussions, they had another thing coming.

And his daughter had another thing coming if she thought he was just going to drop all this after.

—-

Despite having Walter back, Moira felt at perhaps her lowest point.

Malcolm was, at the very least, wary of her. It was clear for whatever reason this Hood had some sort of interest in her family; he’d rescued Oliver from the men she’d hired to question him and now he’d returned Walter safely home when all the resources law enforcement had available had been unable to find anything. And, if she thought about it, the Hood had been the one to bring down that dealer who had made the drug Thea had taken before crashing the car on her birthday.

But Malcolm also knew Moira hadn’t asked to be the benefactor of this vigilante, much less had she arranged for her husband’s rescue. Even still, she and her family were under closer scrutiny than ever, and she wondered if perhaps her family could tell.

Walter was acting distant, claiming often that he needed to rest when she entered the room. Thea seemed to be watching everything with a wary gaze. And Oliver — well, she wished she knew what was going on with Oliver, but aside from that brief moment he’d returned home and shown up at the hospital, he was keeping separate from her.

And she knew exactly why.

Moira sat in the sitting room, turning the pages of one of their many photo albums. She used to look upon these photos fondly, even when Oliver had been presumed dead. They had reminded her of simpler, happier times when her son’s life had been full of potential.

At one time, she’d hoped the young woman at his side in the picture would show him how to harness that potential. Now looking down at the smiling couple filled her with a mixture of frustration and shame.

Laurel had clearly went against everything she had asked of her and told Oliver the truth of what happened that night at the award ceremony. She may have told him everything she knew about Malcolm for all Moira knew. And as a result, her son had shut her out of his life so effectively he may as well have never returned from that island.

Moira had hoped for Oliver never to find out, though Laurel’s survival had made that always a possibility. She had assumed if he did find out that he would come to her and beg her to tell him it wasn’t true, anything other than this cold silence. She felt she didn’t know her own son anymore.

And now, with the Undertaking so close, Moira was sure one of two things would happen: either Malcolm would find out about the leak — Laurel, the man who had stolen her computer files, all of it — and act to eliminate it, or his plan would succeed with some of her family aware of her role in it. Either way, she would lose her son for good.

The front door opened, and Moira stilled at the sound of heavier footfalls coming towards the sitting room. She didn’t need to look around to know who stood in the archway. “Mom.”

“Oliver.” Moira closed the album and stood. “To what do I owe the rare pleasure of your company?”

“We need to talk.”

Now? He wanted to talk about this now, after days and nearly weeks? Moira touched the pearls she wore around her neck and turned slightly from him. “Talk about what, sweetheart?”

“About what was so important that Mr. Merlyn has to pull you away from your husband at the hospital.”

“It was a private conversation.”

“A private conversation that is going to affect hundreds of not thousands. Mom, I need to know.” He took two steps toward her, and not for the first time Moira could see what an imposing figure her son cut these days. “Where is he going to put it?”

“Put what?”

“Don’t make this a game. The Markov device, the second one.”

The devices. Lord help her, he knew about the devices. Moira’s hands shook.

“Did Laurel have you hire the man who broke into my office?” She asked, still doing her best to keep her tone carefully light. “She needs to stop telling you these things, getting you involved.” Didn’t she have to see the danger by now?

“I would have figured out on my own.”

“How would you—” But then she stopped. Because it was so obvious.

Oliver was not the innocent boy being led into danger by a woman he cared for. He was the vigilante who had brought Laurel into his world.

Moira sat heavily on the couch. The enormity of everything her son had done since he had returned hit her, and she could hardly grasp at it. He has fought Malcolm’s associate at Christmas. That was what had so badly injured him. He could have been killed, with her none the wiser.

“When I came home from the island, I had one goal,” he told her quietly. “Dad asked me to stop the people that were poisoning this city, and now I know what he truly meant. This Undertaking.”

“Oh, Robert,” she moaned. Why has she been so insistent he do something? If she hadn’t said anything, he wouldn’t have interfered and he’d be with them still. Oliver would have never gone through that terrible time away or be carrying this burden his father had placed on him.

“We can do this together, mom. We can stop Malcolm. But you have to stand up to him.”

“I tried, but Frank said we had to take care of the leak. That’s why I- I let him change the target to Laurel,” she said, her voice quavering badly as her breath came our ragged. “He’ll have Walter killed this time. He’ll kill you, he’ll kill Thea.”

“I can stop him before it comes to that.”

She shook her head. “Even if the SCPD stormed Merlyn Global and had him arrested, his associate—”

“He is his associate, mom. The Dark Archer is him.”

She froze. “Malcolm?”

Oliver nodded. “I’m going after him tonight.”

Moira stood. “You can’t! If this is all true, he nearly killed you—”

“I’ve been training since then, but it doesn’t matter because lives are on the line. And more than just mine or Thea’s,” he snapped. “Those children in the Glades have mothers who would do anything to protect them, too, and just because they don’t have the means we do doesn’t make it our right to let them suffer for our sakes!”

“I never wanted them to—”

“Then tell me where the second device is,” he demanded coldly. There was nothing of her son in him.

“What the hell is going on?”

They both looked at Thea in the archway, staring at them in clear confusion and fright.

“N- nothing, baby,” Moira said. “Your brother and I are in a slight disagreement.”

“Slight? You’re crying.” Her daughter’s gaze shifted to Oliver. “What did you do?”

“Thea…” Oliver hesitated, and Moira let out the slightest breath in relief. He wouldn’t continue this interrogation while his little sister was here. He couldn’t. Then his gaze hardened again and he said, “I have to go make a call.”

“To?” She asked, hardly expecting an answer.

But he stopped in the archway and said, “Mr. Diggle. He’s holding onto some files for me that I need delivered to the SCPD right away.”

Moira’s mouth fell open. “You wouldn’t!”

“What files? What’s going on?” Thea demanded again.

Oliver ignored them both, walking out into the foyer. Moira followed.

“And what if I should go to the police about my discovery of my son’s actions as of late?”

“You won’t. Because you’ve done all this to protect me, and Thea.”

“I’m finding I may have to protect you from yourself,” she argued. He was going to destroy them; everything she and Robert had built to give their children the lives they wanted. He would open them up to attack from any number of enemies, Malcolm most of all.

“I was proven innocent, mom. And I’ve picked up enough from Laurel to know we could just claim you’re using defamation to stop an investigation into the files.” He turned to look back at her fully. “I don’t have to do this. I don’t even want to. But you have to make a choice, mom. Your family, or your security.”

“The security of this family has always been my choice,” she stressed.

“I don’t understand. Will someone just please say what’s going on!” Thea shouted.

“I believe I can.”

Moira’s heart stopped at that voice.

Walter continued down the steps towards them all. “I can at least say there’s a lot your mother hasn’t told any of us, though Oliver seems to have figured it out.” He looked at Oliver. “It was murder, what happened to Robert, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Thea gasped.

“But that’s not what’s important to right now. If we don’t act soon—” He cit himself off, one hand going to his ear. Belatedly, Moira recognized a small earpiece sitting there. “I have to go,” he said, expression grim.

“To where? The police station?”

He didn’t answer either of her questions, and the front door slammed behind him.

“Dad was murdered?” Thea asked, her voice tiny in the otherwise silence.

“Yes,” she finally admitted. There was very little she could do to convince either of them otherwise at this point. “And your brother seems determined to follow him. Raisa!”

Her head maid emerged from the kitchen a few moments later. “Yes, Mrs. Queen?”

“I need the staff to make preparations. We’ll be going on a trip, and I can’t say how long.”

“Wait, who’s we?” Thea said.

“All three of us. If Oliver does as he’s threatened we will all be in danger. I can’t stop him, it seems, but I can keep you safe.”

“Except I haven’t been very safe the last few months at all,” Walter interrupted. He withdrew some papers and handed them to her. “I’m sorry, Moira, but I won’t be staying here or going with you any longer.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she took the divorce papers.

“Raisa, you need only call me a cab, if you would be so kind.”

“Yes, Mr. Steele.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere either,” Thea decided. “I have community service, a boyfriend—”

“None of which mean more than your life,” Moira insisted.

“But it is my life! I’m an adult, you can’t decide stuff like this for me anymore!” Her daughter fled up the stairs.

“I would suggest you listen to Oliver, Moira,” Walter told you. “You’ve lost enough over all these secrets as it is.” Then he, too, returned upstairs, likely to finish his packing.

Neither of them understood. She had made sacrifices already, yes. But she stood to lose everything. Why couldn’t her family see that?

Walter and Oliver we’re lost causes, perhaps. She’d never really gotten her son back from that shipwreck after all. But Thea… Thea was her baby. She had done everything the five years before Oliver had returned for her daughter, and if she could save just one thing, she would.

She would need to speak to her head of security, first.

—-

McKenna took in the sight of the expansive Merlyn Manor as she drove up the gravel drive. She’d never quite made it here in the past; Tommy had always said his house wasn’t the place for a party. It was big enough to hold four, though.

She drove around the circle drive in front of the house o leave plenty of room for anyone else coming through, pulling off to the side slightly. Then she walked up to the front door and knocked.

A maid answered. “Hi, Detective McKenna Hall. I scheduled some time to ask Mr. Merlyn a couple questions about a cold case.”

The maid nodded and showed her through to a sitting room as big as her whole apartment. Mr. Merlyn stood and shook her hand. “Detective Hall.”

“Mr. Merlyn. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me,” McKenna opened with as they each took a seat across from each other.

“I always do my best to make myself available to this city’s public servants,” the businessman said. “Though I’ll admit, I was surprised when you mentioned Robert’s name over the phone. It’s been some time since we lost him, I hardly see how any case involving him could be active.”

“Admittedly, this is less of a case and more of an inquiry. I recently uncovered a disturbing trend regarding property acquisition in the Glades, and I believe he might have known something about it.”

“Disturbing is a strong word, Detective. But I should have asked if you might like something to drink. Some water or coffee?” 

He half-rose from the couch, but McKenna shook her head. “No thank you.”

The front door opened and shut, a voice she knew calling out, “Dad? You home?”

“In the sitting room, Tommy,” Mr. Merlyn answered.

Tommy entered a few moments later. “What’s with the police car out front —

McKenna! This is a surprise. What, uh, what are you doing here?” He held up his hands. “It wasn’t me, whatever it was.” His laugh sounded forced and she wondered if he really was worried she was here to rat him out to his dad about something.

“I just had a few questions for your father about a cold case relating to Robert Queen.” Tommy had always been close with the family, McKenna mused. “Mr. Queen wouldn’t have spoken to you about any property purchases, would he?”

“Me? Uh, no.”

“Tommy has only recently discovered an aptitude for business,” Mr. Merlyn added in a way that McKenna thought he believed was kind. “I assure you, my son would know very little about Robert’s expenditures.”

“Yeah, you know, I’ll just swing by tomorrow,” Tommy said to his father. “Don’t want to interrupt whatever this is.” He left as quickly as he’d come, not without looking back at them once with a far more serious expression than was customary for him.

“I’m sorry, Detective. You seem to keep getting interrupted,” Mr. Merlyn remarked once they were alone again.

“It’s fine. But, about the investigation, shortly before his death Mr. Queen made a number of property purchases in the Glades. None were advantageous to his company or his personal finances. They would almost seem to be random, except that he seemed to be grabbing up any and all land that wasn’t already owned by someone else.”

“I see. And this is the disturbing trend you saw?”

“Not exactly,” she told him. “But I think he was trying to prevent it. Did he speak to you about his financial decisions at all? Was there any indication from him in the weeks leading up to his death that something was amiss?”

Merlyn frowned, his eyes closing for a prolonged moment. He finally looked back up at her. “Robert’s death — and Oliver’s disappearance for those five years �� was one of the most difficult periods of my life. Second only to the death of my wife. You’ll forgive me, but I don’t remember very much from that time aside from the suddenness with which we lost him.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Detective.”

“It’s understandable. It would have been more helpful to speak to Mr. Frank Chen, but as you know he was killed just a couple weeks ago.”

“Yes. Another regrettable loss.”

McKenna watched him, but his face reflected nothing but quiet sadness. Yet she still couldn’t help that feeling in her gut telling her there was just something off about all of this.

She stood, making to leave through the foyer, but intentionally paused.

“Oh, I nearly forgot to ask, but has Merlyn Global ever done business with a company called Sagittarius?”

It was very slight, but the line of Merlyn’s back straightened, tensed. Interesting. He took his time looking over his shoulder at her. “No, I can’t say that we have. May I ask why that is relevant to your investigation?”

McKenna shrugged. “Sagittarius is the parent company that bought up all the properties Robert Queen purchased in the Glades. Along with nearly all the rest of the property. Their CEO is proving elusive, and the same could be said of all their other employees. I suppose I was wondering if you might have an inside track to whoever makes the decisions over there.”

“It sounds as though you’ve stumbled upon a shell company, Detective Hall.” He stood to his full height, a tactic she was well-used to from tall men. “I’m afraid Merlyn Global doesn’t make it a habit of partnering with those.”

“I wouldn’t think so. Just thought I’d ask while I had your attention. Thank you for your time, Mr. Merlyn.”

She left then, still pondering over what she’d observed from the man. On the one hand, the Humanitarian of the Year; on the other, the rumor she’d picked up thanks to her invite to Tommy’s birthday party that his father had been trying to close the Rebecca Merlyn Health Clinic in the Glades. Even further, the things she’d heard over the years from Tommy about his father. In her youth, she’d dismissed them as any teen or young adult complaining about their parent. Yet now, it seemed to paint a picture of a strict authoritarian, cold and distant. She thought she’d seen glimpses of that during this very interview.

McKenna stopped on the front steps as her phone rang. She checked it, seeing Lance’s name on the caller ID. “Hall.”

“Hey, are you still with Merlyn?”

“Just leaving his home, why?”

“Needed to ask him something about a case.”

A different one? The many mysteries of Malcolm Merlyn. McKenna glanced back over her shoulder.

“He shouldn’t have anything else going on right now. I could always go back and ask for you.”

“No, I’m heading over that way. This case is pretty serious and I want whoever’s approaching him to have all the facts straight about what went down at Unidac the other night.”

“Unidac? I thought the Queens won the bid on that one.”

“They did. That’s what makes this all the stranger. There was a call placed to his company, and I want to know what he knows about it. So just wait in your car, make sure he doesn’t run off.”

“Sure thing.” She hung up. Something happening at Unidac. She hadn’t been made privy to those details yet, but she’d definitely head in with Lance during his questioning of Merlyn to get all the information she could. It would be a stretch to presume the cases were related — Walter Steele had been the one to purchase Unidac Industries, not Robert Queen. Then again, tragedy had momentarily befallen Steele after a property acquisition the same as his predecessor.

McKenna gave herself a little shake to snap out of her thoughts. Loitering on Merlyn’s doorstep would likely only put the man on edge, which they wouldn’t want if they were going to get his cooperation on this new case. If she’d known that was happening, she might have held back on pushing him a little bit. But that was in the past now, and too late for her to change. She started down the steps and across the drive to where she’d parked at a leisurely pace, since she had no plans of leaving just yet. It was strange, used to the city as she was, being out here with all the beauty of a well-kept front garden and all the silence of a tomb.

As she drew up to her car, she noticed a looming figure in the reflection of her side mirror. At the very last second, she ducked and yelled out as an arrow pierced into the mirror, ripping it right off the car.

With another gasp, she rolled under the vehicle, watching as a second arrow embedded itself in the ground where she’d just been. McKenna crawled time the other side to get a better view of her black-clad attacker. The copycat archer from Christmas. What was he doing here?

Nevertheless, this archer was known to kill even more infamously than the Hood was, so McKenna drew her sidearm, using the car as cover. He seemed to know where she was because a third arrow just narrowly sailed over her head.

McKenna returned fire, watching in amazement and mounting horror as the copycat seemed able to dance around her shots with ease. He still had an arrow drawn on his bow, clearly waiting her out until she took a break or needed to reload to fire down on her again. She wouldn’t have any time to call backup at this rate!

A squeal of tires caused her to look round as a car that looked like it belonged in some 70s cop show suddenly spun stop alongside her. The passenger door opened on a man behind the wheel in a suit and mesh mask with a white bib over his head. When he spoke, she recognized the modulated tone.

“Get in, Detective!”

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent Challenge - “Dependable” (Rated PG)

Summary: The one where Kurt is a DoorDash driver, trying to earn money for college, when he ends up making an early morning delivery to a special customer. (2576 words)

Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent Challenge 2018 prompts 'festival' and 'incident'. Also, the title and the summary suck, but it's been a long couple of weeks.

Read on AO3.

“Mr. … Mr. Anderson? Blaine Anderson?” Kurt tiptoes cautiously through the dark quad, bright red delivery bag looped over his shoulder announcing his presence from a mile away. Everything in his body screams, “Turn around and run!”, that this is a practical joke at best or at worst – a trap. But the bizarre sense of obligation that comes from both having something that doesn’t belong to you (in this case, a jumbo Jack combo) and a job he doesn’t want to lose keeps him pressing onward, even if he might be walking head on into danger. During his time as a DoorDash delivery driver, he has had a few people pull pranks on him - send him to either an abandoned house, a tree in an empty field, even all the way to Columbus to deliver seventeen pizzas to some underground BDSM and leather festival. That one he didn’t mind so much. The people there accepted his gift of free pizza (since he gets to keep the food if the order is undeliverable), invited him to hang out with them for a while, and showered him with tips.

All in all, not the worst experience in the world.

He doesn’t understand why people pull pranks like that other than they suck. They pay for it in the end – literally. They pay for the food and they can’t get their money back. They’ve basically spent their hard earned cash to waste his time, give him a paycheck and a free meal. How is that a satisfying joke by any stretch of the imagination?

He’s never had anyone prey on him before. He knows it’s a possibility. He’s heard of it happening to other drivers, mostly women - lured out to the middle of nowhere and attacked. But it’s never happened to him.

This delivery might actually be the case.

He looks down at his phone, the only thing he has lighting his way, and checks the address one more time. Lima High School, outdoor quad/lunch area (under construction). Kurt reads that last part and swallows hard. How did he miss that? Under construction? What the heck does that mean?

Kurt looks up and squints into the black, eyes trying to readjust from the bright white screen to pitch black surroundings. A few hard blinks later and he sees it – a sizable portion of the cement in front of the doors that lead to the cafeteria have been torn up. Yellow caution tape wrapped around orange safety cones surround it, warning anyone who comes near not to accidentally walk into it … the way he was about to. Kurt looks left and right, eyes and ears straining for any trace of the customer who supposedly ordered dinner and wanted it delivered here.

“Mr. Anderson? It’s DoorDash. I have your food. Can you tell me where you are, please?” Kurt had tried calling the man, but it went straight to voicemail. Still, Kurt chooses to remain optimistic. There’s a dozen reasons he can think of why someone would place a one a.m. order for Jack in the Box to be delivered to Lima High School. There’s construction being done. Maybe it’s a construction worker. Or the janitor. Or someone from the drama department working late on sets for the spring musical.

A skeptical voice interrupts his positivity to remind him that this is a high school campus. Therefore this has the potential to not only take a turn for the worse, but end up splattered all over YouTube, too.

That thought has him back stepping, ready to turn around and bolt, declare this delivery a bust and give the whole cholesterol laden meal to his stepbrother Finn when he hears a soft whimper. A voice calls out, of all things, his name.

“K-Kurt?”

The fear vibrating in that voice makes Kurt’s blood go cold. He turns toward it, expecting to see some short, shivering, Gollum-like creature standing behind him, but there’s no one. “Mr. Anderson?”

“Kurt?” A hollow knock follows. “Is that you, Kurt?”

Kurt’s entire body turns to stone, wondering how the mysterious voice knows his name. But then he remembers – the app tells the customer who’s delivering his food.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Kurt walks carefully around the cement patio, trying to pinpoint the voice’s hiding place. “Are you Blaine Anderson?”

“Yes! I---I’m Blaine Anderson! Are you alone?”

That question glues Kurt to the ground. Why would Blaine need to know that he’s alone? Can’t he see him?

What did he plan on doing to him?

“Yes, I am … for now. My stepbrother’s waiting for me in the car,” Kurt lies. “He’s a big guy. A football player. And he’ll come running in a moment’s notice if something happens to me!”

“I’m not going to do anything to you! I promise! I need your help because I’m … I’m stuck!”

“Stuck?” Kurt turns on his flashlight app and starts swinging the beam around, searching for any place a human being could get stuck. It strikes him that Blaine may have fallen into that hole, and he hurries over to investigate. He sees darkness, some pipe, and a lot of rubble, but no person. “Stuck where?”

A mumbled sentence answers Kurt’s question.

“Sorry,” Kurt says. “I didn’t catch that. Where are you?”

Blaine sighs. It’s so heavy and defeated, Kurt can hear it as clear as if Blaine were standing beside him. “I’m in the porta potty.”

“Porta potty, porta potty …” Kurt doesn’t recall seeing one when he walked in, and they’re pretty difficult to miss. He turns a full circle, swinging his light around high and low, and spots it in the corner – a tall, blue portable toilet, identical to the ones they have scattered around the McKinley sports fields, but this one has several benches pushed up against the door. And in the slot for a padlock, the handle of a fork has been slid in to keep it closed.

“Oh my God!” Kurt runs up to it, gives the door a knock, and hears a startled yelp reply. “Blaine? Are you in there?”

“Yeah, I am!” Blaine sounds relieved. “Please, get me out!”

“I will! I will! Give me a minute!” Kurt springs into action while flashbacks of a particularly horrible incident involving one of his friends getting locked in a porta potty hops to mind, not to mention his own experience getting locked in a dumpster. It was on spaghetti Tuesday, and ruined one of his favorite Alexander McQueen sweaters. “One second and I’ll have you out!”

“Okay.”

Kurt puts down his bag and starts shoving benches aside. They’re not heavy, just awkward, stacked in such a way that the metal supports lock together, making it difficult for him to maneuver without pinching his fingers. And since he had to put his phone in his pocket to free up his hands, he’s doing this completely in the dark.

This is definitely more nightmare fuel than he needs in one night.

With the benches gone, he slides the fork out of the lock. Before he can do anything else, the door flies open, nearly smacking him in the face, and a boy about his age stumbles out. He bends over double, sucking in air so quickly, Kurt thinks he’s about to pass out. Or puke. Kurt wouldn’t blame him. The stench that wafts from the narrow stall hits Kurt’s olfactories like a hammer, and he retches. He can’t picture having to live with that for longer than a few seconds.

Kurt pulls out his phone to check if Blaine has any injuries. He looks the boy over from a short distance, searching for black eyes or a fat lip. But aside from having been locked in a porta potty for who knows how long, he appears unharmed.

Blaine’s knees wobble. He weaves to his right, unable to stand upright yet, finds one of the moved benches and takes a seat. “T-thank you. You have no idea how stuffy it is in there.”

“I can imagine.” Kurt picks up the DoorDash bag with the boy’s meal inside and holds it protectively in front of him. This could still be a prank, Kurt reminds himself, peeking stealthily around as Blaine struggles to compose himself. “But, if you don’t mind me asking - you were locked in a porta potty. Why did you order DoorDash? Why didn’t you call your parents? Or the police?”

Blaine takes a few deep breaths, then lifts his head, sadly looking Kurt in the face. Kurt smiles sympathetically at what he sees. The boy looks pale, as if he’s recovering from a flu he’s had for at least a week, his bottom lip quivering, his forehead covered in sweat. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, and his sleeves rolled up to his biceps. The mop of curls on the top of his head hang damp and limp, as if he ran his fingers through them obsessively. His eyes, shining in the light from Kurt’s flashlight app, translate clearly from their hazel depths how exhausted he feels. He definitely looks like a boy who’s been locked in a small, humid box for a few hours, stressed beyond belief, trying to find a way out.

But he’s also a handsome young man, someone Kurt would definitely notice walking down the halls of school if they both went to McKinley.

“I was on low battery,” Blaine explains. “My parents are away for the weekend. My brother would be no help. He’d make fun of me, then tease me worse when I got home. And I’ve tried the police before. They think it’s a practical joke. They don’t even send anyone to check it out.”

A lump rises to Kurt’s throat when he hears that. Apparently this has happened before then. And no one’s done anything about it yet? No one?

“My dad used to joke that if my life was ever in danger, call for pizza, not the police, because most pizza places guarantee they’ll be at your house in 30 minutes or less. So, I kind of went with that and took the chance you’d actually show. I wrote: ‘Help me! I’m locked in a porta potty!’ in the special instructions box. Didn’t you see it?”

“Sorry. No. The only note on your order was please bring extra Chick-fil-a sauce. I couldn’t, by the way. They’re not open right now.”

“You know, I keep trying to erase that, and it never works. I don’t even order from Chick-fil-a anymore. Stupid app. No offense.”

“None taken. I feel the same way.”

Blaine sighs, resting his head in his hands. An awkward silence grows, and Kurt can’t think of anything to do, any way to make this better. And he wishes he could. He really does. If they were at McKinley, he’d take Blaine to see Mr. Schue. Will Schuester has spent much of his teaching career championing his students’ causes. He’d definitely help Blaine.

But here at Lima High, Kurt knows no one. McKinley High and Lima High are in the same district. They compete against each other, go to each other’s rallies and what not. Maybe Mr. Schue could still help.

But not right now. Not at one a.m. For lack of anything better to do, Kurt unzips his bag and takes out Blaine’s food. “Well, uh …. here’s your order.”

“Thanks.” Blaine reaches out a trembling hand and takes his food. He puts the bag in his lap, hugging it like a security blanket.

“No problem.” Now what? Kurt thinks. This is generally the point where he races back to his car and hopes for another order, but he can’t leave Blaine here in the dark with his meal. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I mean … this happens all the time. Jerk hole jocks. No offense to your stepbrother.”

“None taken. He used to be a jerk hole himself.”

“I’m an easy target. I’m the only out gay kid at this school, and I …”

“… constantly get picked on?” Kurt finishes, taking a seat beside Blaine. “Thrown in dumpsters, shoved into lockers, that kind of thing?”

Blaine turns to look at Kurt. “Yeah. How do you know?”

“It happens to me a lot at my high school, too. For the same reason.”

“Oh.” Blaine’s eyes open wide when he gets it, but he sits up straighter. “Oh, I’m sorry. What school?”

“McKinley.”

“Ah. Land of the Slushie Facials.”

“So you’ve heard of it?”

“Ironically, I did everything in the world to avoid going there. But Lima High’s not much better. Minus the slushies.”

“You’re lucky. They’re a special kind of hell.”

“I bet.”

Kurt looks down at his phone with the red and white app screen still visible. He has yet to mark this order delivered, and he should. He should get going. He’s already considered late (unavoidable since he had to search the campus to find Blaine in the first place), and he really should get as much work as he can in before he has to be home. He’s saving up for college. His dream school – NYADA. But the thought of bidding Blaine adieu doesn’t sit well with him. He needs to know that Blaine is going to be okay, that he’s safe, and that his brother isn’t going to give him too much grief for what happened tonight.

Blaine doesn’t have anyone reliable in his corner if the person he put his faith in was a food delivery driver.

If they went to the same school, they’d have one another.

Kurt wonders if that’s a possibility …

He swipes his finger across the screen. Instead of waiting for another order, he marks this one delivered, and signs off. He has months to save up for school. As important as NYADA is to him, he has a feeling that there’s something more important he needs to do here.

Be there for Blaine.

“Do you have a way to get home?” Kurt asks.

“I … yeah. My car should be in the parking lot. Only it’s a far parking lot, and I’m a little bit afraid of walking out there by myself … in the dark. I just don’t know if they’re waiting for me. I don’t think they would stick around here on a Friday night, but …”

“Gotcha. Well, Blaine Anderson, if you would, please do me the honor of letting me escort you to your car. Then maybe you and I can go somewhere and talk? Get a coffee? Compare battle scars? I’ve got a doozy on the back of my calf where I cut it on a trash can.”

“Hey, I think I have one of those, too.” Blaine waits for Kurt to stand, then clumsily follows, putting a hand to his hip when it complains about moving. “I wish my phone hadn’t died. Then we’d have two flashlights to light our way. What happens if we get ambushed? Do you think your stepbrother can help us?”

“I … uh … kind of lied about him being here. Sorry about that. But don’t worry.” Kurt reaches into his DoorDash bag and pulls out an industrial-sized bottle of pepper spray wrapped in a black leather holder with a silver spike on the bottom – courtesy of the kind members of the Lace and Leather Sadomasochists Club of Greater Columbus. He unlocks it and gives it a good shake. “I’ve got us covered.”