#this ask said / chaotic energy / and i ran to tags like yeah i can do that
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bluewinnerangel ¡ 3 years ago
Note
I love your blog. Have I ever told you that? I FUCKING love your blog. You are a genius. A very.. extremely chaotic genius. You are crazy but a good type of crazy.
Yeah. That's all. I love you. And your blog. Just needed to ....express my thoughts.
Tumblr media
Thank you so much asjffjsajd you don't even know but I think I needed to hear this at this very moment, you just made my day very much better so thank you perfect amazing you you
Tumblr media
20 notes ¡ View notes
smallestapplin ¡ 3 years ago
Note
Could I ask for Lian, Sabi and Rei playing tag with their big sib MC? Everyone is just laughing hysterically trying to dodge each other until Rei tags Lian and surprise surprise he’s a literal track star and can somehow out run everyone and makes a beeline for MC and they’re simultaneously laughing/screaming out of fear trying to dodge smol cowboy menace😂��� I just love chaotic sibling moments like these
Hopefully I can do this some justice!
-
-
You had finally gotten some time off surveying and wanted to spend it with your little siblings.
Each clan leader allowed their youngest wardens to join you in this adventure, seeing as how it’s been a while since they have had anytime with you or the others.
You all got together in the wooded area beside Lord Kleavor’s seat.
Everything started off as a nice little picnic like get together. You were telling them crazy stories about you latest excursion and they were telling you about what they did.
Rei trying to calm a frantic professor over some silly pokedex entry.
Lian about how Lord Kleavor picked him up by the back of his shirt and didn’t let him go.
Sabi didn’t have much going on aside from scaring all of the pearl settlement by coming in riding on top a mamoswine.
But at some point Sabi got broad and true to her nature she made it everyone’s problem.
Her green eyes trail over lazily to the boy closest to her, and just as lazily tapped Rei’s leg.
“Tag you’re it.” And she was up and gone the moment she finished her sentence.
“What!”
Rei looks around in shock but you and Lian had already jumped up and ran.
“No fair!” The poor teen cries before trying to run after you.
Being out in the wilderness gave you so many tips, tricks, and speed, outrunning Rei long enough for him to get tired. His attention quickly turns to the younger wardens.
Who scream and take off running.
You try to help keep them out of Rei’s grasp but it was futile.
With a loud “TAG!” Rei runs away from Lian.
Everyone turns to the young cowboy who stood there, you three waited with baited breaths, ready to run at a moments notices.
Lian’s brown eyes lock with yours.
“Oh no.” Was all you said softly.
Before Lian bolts towards.
You scream and squeal running away, your joyful scream only getting louder when you noticed how fast he is gaining on you.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Sabi yells.
“Show him why you’re the hero!” Rei and Sabi cheer.
You dodge Lian’s first attempt at tagging you, taking sharp turns and weaving through the trees.
But the warden isn’t giving up without a fight.
“Lian come on! That all you got?” Your laugh is cut off by your screech.
You barely dodged in time.
“If ya’d just stay still this’ll be a lot easier!”
“Try again buckraoo!”
The two of you run back and forth through the trees. You’re more surprised at just how fast Lian is.
It goes quiet for a moment, but you don’t stop moving, just slowly down a little or reserve energy.
Looking around you sprint when you see his hat, but skid to a stop when it hits the ground.
“GOTCHA!”
You scream and you and Lian hit the ground. Looking down to see he tackled you.
“I AM THE KING OF TAG!” He stands over you, arms in the air, completely out of breath but victorious.
“That was a smart move!” You lay back on the ground. That took a lot out of you.
“WOOOOHOOOOO!!! Go Lian!” The other two cheer, Sabi shaking her mits like little pompoms and Rei mimicking her.
“You sure you ain’t the galaxy team’s best survey member Lian? You got the speed and brains for it.” You wheeze out.
You give a breathless chuckle when a look of joy and pride comes over his face “maybe I should be!”
“Can we keep playing?”
You look to Sabi “yeah, just, lemme catch my breath.”
Rei snorts “come on sib! You’re suppose to be the oh so great hero.”
“I have fought deities that could manipulate time and space itself to teleport to my location, but nothing is more terrifying than a little ankle biter that’s determined.”
“Hey!” The cowboy pouts.
You hope there are more days like this.
104 notes ¡ View notes
shoftiiel ¡ 3 years ago
Text
secrets: 18 yes you do
synopsis: all sunghoon wanted was a calm year, he never imagined he would see his childhood best friend again, but how chaotic can things get? especially now that her friend group has ummmm… changed
warnings: none ig
word count: 600
a/n: hi guys, sorry for disappearing again i had a lot of stuff going on (school is draining all my energy at this point) but things are under control now, i plan on returning to my daily update schedule as soon as i can :))
Tumblr media
prev | masterlist | next
Tumblr media
to be honest, you had no idea where the fuck were you, fucking beomgyu and the things you did for him. At this point you had walked in circles for the past 5 minutes, he said he was starving so you kinda felt bad for him. Someone walked past you and you took the opportunity to ask her for help. “Excuse me” the girl turned around and took off one of her earphones, “do you happen to know where is…'' you took your phone looking for the message gyu had sent you “dance room 3?”
“oh i'm actually headed there” he gave you a smile “i'll walk with you”. an awkward silence fell between you two, you wanted to ask her something but didn't know exactly what, lucky for you, she thought the same thing and broke off the silence herself. “So what brings you here?” she asked, “oh my friend was hungry so i bought him some food” you showed her the bag that you had been carrying, it was probably cold by now, but beomgyu would probably not care, not at all. “the dumbass forgot to eat”
the girl laughed at your comment, you met her not even 5 minutes ago and you were comfortable enough with her to joke around with her like that. “i’m yuna bt the way” she said, “nice to meet you, i’m-“
“y/n” you heard your name being called by a familiar voice “you are my savior!” beomgyu ran towards you and embraced you in a tight hug. “I'm sorry if it is cold,” you said, breaking off the hug. “I kinda got lost on my way here, but yuna helped me” you turned to her and gave her a warm smile which made her smile too. “It was nothing, y/n right?”
“the one and only” because of your answer a small laugh left her lips. “Well i have to go but-” he took out a marker out of her bag and grabbed your arm, “here’s my number, text me if you need anything” she waved at you “and bye beomgyu”
“you know her?” you turned to beomgyu who was also waving at yuna, “yeah, she is in almost all of my classes'' he looked at you “considering her friend choices...” he made a dramatic pause “she is quite nice”. It was safe to say that you were very confused at what beomgyu had just said. “What do you mean by her friend's choices?”. Beomgy chuckled and ruffled your hair “she is friends with sunghoon”.
“Anyway” he said, breaking the silence between you two, “I am almost done, do you want to come over and binge watch nevertheless again?”. The offer was tempting, very tempting indeed, “sorry gyu” you sighed “i can't, not today”, a pout appeared on his lips, “whyyyyyyyyy?” he whined “you never say no to our marathons” we stepped closer to you and placed one of his hands on your forehead “are you feeling okay?”.
“I am okay” you pushed him away “is just that i have something to do tomorrow” his expression changed fast, “what do you have to do?” His tone did not sound as playful as it did some minutes ago. “I have to see sunghoon and jake for our project”.
“Then it is settled” he said firmly “you stay over and i’ll be your chaperone tomorrow” he smiled proudly. “gyu i don't need a chaperone”
“yes you do”
tag list: @seungstarss @mykalon @liliansun @acciomylove @chuntians @cuteyeonnie23 @witheeseung @luv3iza @diestheticu @urresidentdrugdealer @msxflower @lokideadontheinside @nshrikiii @iamnotgrootforiamthor @milkycloudtyg@softforqiankun @ryujnworld @woonieiv @niafics @c0nvers3h1gh @dear-dreamie @oureris @sunghooniee @xoxojayd3n @enhacolor @ffeynn @yenart @honeybutterchup @w3bqrl @axurio @kac-chowsballs
118 notes ¡ View notes
peachpitfics ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Culinary Chaos
Tumblr media
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Request: Yes
“ Teaching Spencer how to cook and him being all pouty when it doesn't turn out great so the reader comforts him and makes him feel better🥺”
Summary: Spencer meets your Parents and invites them for dinner at his apartment, knowing full well he can’t cook. Even with your help, he still manages to ruin dinner. Luckily, Dad’s got him covered.
Length: 1.3k
Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader, Reader’s Mother & Father
Content Warnings: Curse words
A/N: Hiiii, this probably wasn’t what you were asking for, but its sweet and it’s what fell out of my brain today... I hope you enjoy it :) xx
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Instant regret filled Spencer’s body as he realized what he’d done. Dating for 6 months, you had introduced your boyfriend to your parents at a family dinner they had invited him to. With your background, your Father had cooked this beautiful meal, enjoyed by everyone, but especially Spencer. There was nothing he loved more than home cooked food. You guessed it was because of how he grew up...
And that’s where Spencer decided to invite your parents for dinner, at his apartment, on Saturday night.
As soon as you left and got into your car, Spencer lost it. He frantically ran his hands through his hair and jittered his leg around. Anxiety not only filled his stomach, but yours too. “Why did I do that?” His voice shook. “Because you’re a nice person, and you wanted to make a good impression” You nodded. “Uh huh, yeah, well” You could tell that the higher his voice got, the more he was panicking, “I don’t even own pots and pans” The dread washed over him as he realized he wasn’t capable of making anything that wasn’t coffee or toast.
You wanted to laugh but didn’t want to further embarrass him. Spencer was quiet from there until you got to his apartment. You tried to converse with him, but all he could do was be in his head and bounce his leg up and down. Spencer led you into his apartment, his pace quicker than normal. Before you knew it, he was tearing his kitchen apart, while you sat and watched on in utter surprise. Spencer didn’t half ass things, he always gave it 100% and more often than not, he was successful.
“You need to stop panicking” You said sternly, finally having had enough of this chaotic Spencer. “What am I going to do?!” He near on shouted, frustrated with himself. You approached him, taking him into your arms and holding onto him as tightly as possible. After a minute, he finally melted. You could feel his energy shift. You rubbed your hand up the length of his back, “I’m going to help you, if you would just calm down” You giggled.
When you parted, he was softer, slower. That frantic energy had dissipated. You helped him put his kitchen wares back in the cupboards and decided what he was going to make for dinner. You were going to keep it simple, with a roast beef and vegetables. Something you knew your parents liked & something you could cook, so you could teach Spence. When you explained the logistics and wrote a shopping list together, he calmed and was much happier.
 ——————- Saturday Afternoon ———————
 The shopping was done, Spencer was prepared, and you had brought a baking dish from your apartment for the roast. He had started on the vegetables, Spencer’s concentration through the roof. You stood behind him, lovingly wrapping your arms around his middle and drawing in his scent from the back of his shirt. You planted small kisses on his back and ran your hands down his sides. But Spencer ignored you, he kept peeling and chopping vegetables. “You’re staring at those carrots as if they’re going to run away” You whispered up to him. “They might if you keep distracting me” He chuckled. More time passed, more time where you were not the center of his attention and it was bugging you. Now he was preparing the meat. He was doing everything exactly how you told him. When you were finally fed up with being ignored, you decided to take your shower and get dressed for dinner. Your parents would be here in about an hour, and Spencer was already ready. He’d been ready for hours, perpetually worrying he was going to mess something up.
You came back to the kitchen, smoke billowing out of the oven into Spencer’s face. “I’ve been gone 45 minutes, all you had to do was let it sit?!” You exclaimed, watching him hurricane right back into chaos. “Babe, what’s going?” You asked, now frantic yourself. “The fucking meat is on fire” Spencer’s voice was high and scratchy, his stress filled the room much like a smoke. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Spencer donned odd oven mitts and pulled the baking dish from the oven, a medium sized fire spread across the whole of the meat, engulfing it. Spencer dropped the baking dish into the sink, throwing a tea towel over the top of, hoping to smother it out. An enormous crack rang out, the baking dish breaking in half over the heat.
You took it upon yourself to open all the windows and waved one of Spence’s jumper around to sweep the smoke out of the apartment. Once it was clearer to see in the kitchen, you went back to check on Spencer. He sat against the counter where the sink was, elbows on his knees and hands over his face. “This... is a disaster” He mumbled sadly. You took a seat next to him, linking your arm around his and kissed him on his arm. “Ah, it’s not so bad” You smiled, “It’ll be a funny story one day”. “Not today, it’s not funny today” He grumbled, “Your parents are going to be here any minute. My apartment is smoky, the charcoal ball in the sink is ruined and there’s nothing in the apartment for dinner” He almost began to laugh, but you were sure that was to keep from crying. Spencer wasn’t always this way in regard to failing; this particular meal was very important to him. He’d never been in contact with a partner’s parents before, so this was special.
You stood, reached your hand down to him. Pulling Spencer up, you reefed him into a bear hug. “Everything will be okay” You squeezed him tight, his chin resting on your head. You knew what your parents were like, they wouldn’t have ever held this against Spencer. The doorbell rang out, just what you needed. The kitchen was a mess, and the smoke hadn’t cleared, you didn’t want Spencer to be embarrassed. But he pulled up his metaphorical socks and answered the door. He shook your Fathers hand and kissed your Mothers cheek as they entered the apartment. You greeted them, watching their faces as they observed the chaos. “What’s happened here?” Your Father asked softly, walking into the kitchen, and lifting the tea towel in the sink. The black ball of burnt meat lay underneath. “Dear me” Y/F/n smiled. “Yeah... I... can’t cook” Spencer confessed. “It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?” Your Mother hummed. She herself wasn’t a good cook. “That’s an understatement” The corners of Spencer’s mouth were twisted into a smile. “Can I give you some advice?” Y/F/n asked gently, not wanting to put him off trying again.
“Of course, Sir, please” Spencer approached the kitchen, excited to learn. Your mother and you stood in the entryway, watching on. “I assume this caught fire” Your Dad laughed, waving soft smoke out of his face, “Which means, your oven was too high and the fat caught fire. The oven then becomes a furnace and suddenly, bam! You’ve lost your roast” Y/F/n chuckled. “So, next time I should do it on a lower heat for longer?” Spencer asked gingerly. “Oh Absolutely, that way is better anyway, it cooks nicer. I wouldn’t worry too much about this though, I set fire to a few before I got a good one, didn’t I darling?” Y/F/n turned back to your Mother and laughed. She nodded along, chuckling herself. Spencer’s anxiety over the whole situation, disappeared. It was comforting for him knowing that even good cooks, like y/F/n, had catastrophes like this. “So, shall we order a pizza?” Y/M/n suggested. “Pizza this time, but next time, we do a roast. Together, I’ll show you how to get it perfect” Y/F/n draped his arm around Spencer’s shoulder, leading him to the living room to order that pizza.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Tags: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @diegoluna-asian
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for Spencer Reid fics! ✨
241 notes ¡ View notes
saynotoshityouhate ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Chaos
Tumblr media
Summary: Everyone was convinced you’d never meet your match. That was, until you got the literal kick to the head of a lifetime. 
Word Count: 1726
Tags/Warnings: alcohol, possible concussion, slight illegal behavior, just a little smutty
I’m feeling chaotic, let’s go dancing. Who’s in?
Your friends were used to you starting craziness as soon as you clocked out on Friday afternoon. You were sure they all got your text and rolled their eyes, but they were stuck with you at this point. 
You got all ready - glam but also comfortable - you never knew where the night was going to go. Last time you went out, you ended up dancing until 2am, and then watching the sunrise from the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. You weren’t sure how many of these weekends you had left - your friends had started settling down and were less enthusiastic about joining you in your shenanigans. They all had tried (and failed) to set you up with their boyfriend’s friends - unable to find someone who could match your energy. But at the same time, you loved your life. You could do anything you wanted, whenever you wanted. You were financially stable, had a good job, a nice apartment...you weren’t really looking for anyone or anything to come in and change things. 
You met the girls at the club, wearing the dress that made you feel most confident, paired with your worn in Converse high tops. “HEY BITCHES!” You gave each friend big sloppy kisses on both cheeks. They handed you a drink - you were last to arrive, as usual. “Y/N, I was just telling the girls about the engagement party my future mother-in-law is planning. You wouldn’t believe how tacky it is going to be! The invitations alone…” You cut her off after pounding your drink, and pointed to the dance floor. “I’m gonna go there now. Bye!” Setting your empty glass on the nearest table, you ran over to the middle of the dance floor. 
You loved the feeling of the stereo bass pumping in your chest. The ringing in your ears blocking out your inhibitions as you moved your body without care, your skin lit up in colors and sparkles. Here, in this moment, you were truly happy. Not a care in the world. No thoughts in your head saying you were unworthy of the love your friends had found. Complete and full contentment at the life you had chosen for yourself. And it was then that you received a swift kick to the side of your head. 
A few seconds later, you opened your eyes to see the hazel eyes of a wild haired, sweaty man. “Fuuucking hell, kid! I thought for sure you were dead. Are you alright?” You blinked up at him and nodded, unsure how you got to be flat on your back in the first place. “I’m so sorry, I was carrying my best lesbian friend on my shoulders, and when we spun around, her fucking foot hit you in the head.” He wipes his hand down his shirt before handing it to you, helping you up off the floor. The man was tall, dressed in a hilarious mismatch of clothes, with a mop of brown hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead, partially covering his eyes. He sported a patchy moustache/goatee combo which brought your attention to his plush, pink lips. 
He leaned down to look you directly in your eyes, examining them closely. “I don’t think you have a concussion...are you sure you’re alright?” You took a deep breath. “Yes. Totally. Super duper alright. All good.” He chuckled a deep laugh, showing off his imperfectly perfect teeth. “Awesome. I’m Adam - we’re going to go find shit to throw off the overpass. Wanna come?” You nodded enthusiastically, never having been this lost for words in your life. He grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the bar, barely giving you the chance to smile or wave at your friends as you exited. 
Adam and his friends brought you all across the city. Finding items to keep or to toss, literally, off of the highway overpass. Your group steadily dwindled as you explored the city’s hidden pockets, eventually leaving you, Adam, and a reusable grocery bag full of spare car parts and rotten vegetables alone on the pedestrian bridge that crossed the city’s busiest highway. Standing together, you looked upon the city skyline, standing proudly against a dark sky that was littered with stars. It was your favorite view. Feeling Adam’s gaze on you, you turned to look up at him. “Everything okay?” you asked, unsure why he was making such a face. “Yeah, kid, just making sure you’re not gonna have a seizure or somethin’ dumb.” He chewed the inside of his cheek as he resumed looking at the city. 
With the early morning hour, there wasn’t a ton of good targets to toss your garbage at. “Wanna split a pizza?” You asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Adam smiled and nodded, giving you the chance get him back for earlier, to grab his hand and run. You took the long way, zig zagging through dark alleys, running up and down stairs, eventually landing at your favorite, hole in the wall 24-hour pizza parlor. “Jimmy!!!!” You squealed are the shop owner, waving at him and jumping up and down. The proprietor groaned, pushing himself out of his chair and walked up to the window. “What can I getcha, y/n...and friend?” Adam smiled at Jimmy, and then you, and then Jimmy again. Nervously laughing and still trying to catch his breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Anything but fucking green peppers,” you both said, almost simultaneously. Jimmy rolled his eyes and headed back to the kitchen. 
“Jimmy’s the best. He almost single handedly fed me all through my senior year of college. I was building this Trojan Horse out of Amazon boxes inside my apartment and I couldn’t access my kitchen because it was full of boxes so…” Adam grabbed your face, pulling you in for a rough kiss, his pillowy lips absorbing the blow. Your eyes were wide open, arms limp at your side. Sensing you weren’t reciprocating, Adam pulled back, hands still on your face. “I’m building a boat in my apartment right now, gonna sail down the Hudson. I’ve never met anyone like you before, like me - someone who could keep up with me and not be some fucking loser.” Adam looked deep into your eyes. “We were meant to meet tonight, Y/N. I was supposed to hit you in the head with my best lesbian friend.” Adam squeezed his large hands together, smooshing your face. “Fuck the pizza, come see my boat.” 
Jimmy walked up at that moment, pizza box in tow. “No, no fucking my pizza. Here - on the house - now get out of here. And y/n, I don’t want to find this pizza on some roof or in a tree or whatever the fuck you’re planning on doing tonight.” You turned your head towards Jimmy, with Adam’s help, and said through your smooshed face “Fanks Jummy.” Grabbing the pizza, you looked back up at Adam. Adam moved your head up and down, speaking in a high pitched voice “Yes, Adam, I’d love to see your boat!” Looking down at you with a cheesy grin, you started to laugh. “Fwine, but wet go uf my fwace.” Adam flailed his arms into the air. “Well let’s fucking go, kid!” 
Adam wasn’t kidding, he really was building a boat in his living room. It was the coolest thing you’ve ever seen. “Are these old pallets? Is that a fisherman’s knot? Did you repurpose 2x4s from…” “Whoa whoa y/n don’t get a lady boner over my awesome ass boat!” Your eyes were sparkling, climbing over piles of wood and fabric and an overused power strip. “When is she going to be ready to sail?” you asked, your voice giving away your excitement. “Why,” Adam stalked towards you, backing you up against the mast, “wanna be my sexy first mate?” Your heart was beating through your chest. This wasn’t your average one night stand, this was different - you could tell. This wasn’t the plan. But you couldn’t deny that he was your match. He was right, you were meant to meet tonight. You took a deep, shaky breath, looking into Adam’s eyes. “Aye, aye, captain.” 
Adam growled, wrapping his arms underneath your bottom and lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, squealing in surprise. He slammed your body harder against the boat’s mast, shoving his tongue into your mouth and squeezing your ass as he ground his rock hard erection into your pelvis. You lifted one hand from his neck, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, the slightest graze of your fingers causing Adam’s hips to thrust. The energy of that motion cracked the fragile integrity of the mast, causing Adam to fall forwards, landing on top of you, the broken splinters of wood scratched along your back. 
You both groaned. “Fuck, kid, you ok? How’s your head?” Opening up to the same concerned, hazel gaze from earlier in the evening, you replied “Yep. Super duper.” That was good enough for Adam, who stood up quickly, ripping his jeans and underwear down, kicking his legs for assistance. You lifted your hips to shimmy your own panties down to your ankles. Adam returned to his place between your legs. Looking up at him with a grin, you laughed “ahoy, matey. shiver me timbers.” Adam grunted - “you’re so fucking weird, and so fucking wet,” he ran two fingers through your slick, “and just for me.” You whined, moving your hips to meet his hand.  “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me. Gunna drop anchor in this hot cunt.”
Adam spent the rest of the night straddled over your back, where you laid on your stomach on his bed. Using a tweezer, he removed the hundreds of tiny splinters that had embedded themselves into your skin. You sighed contentedly, taking a large sip of milk, unsure what the future held. But for the first time, in a long time, the thought of sharing that future with someone didn’t make you sick to your stomach. You turned your head to take a look at him, wearing lab safety goggles “in case one flew out at him.” Smiling, you rested your head on his pillow, before falling asleep and dreaming of sailing down the Hudson together. 
52 notes ¡ View notes
pixelatedrose ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Starry Nights
Story 2 | Story 3
Ao3 Link
Fic Summary: A bunch of short stories from different periods in the timeline of the Smp. As they all looked across their land, the homes and lights flashing and bleeding color into the sky and ground, they spoke in soft words and sad sighs, their eyes twisting and dancing from one emotion to the next in a flurry of memories. They would not forget it all so soon, the things in their lives. “...The stars are out tonight…”
Warnings: Cursing, implied human trafficking, if there’s anything I missed or you would like me to tag, please let me know!!
Word count: 4,438
Chapter 1: A Warm Home
  “Technoblade, get down from there!!” Philza Minecraft yelled at his eldest son, who had decided the best way to evade bathtime was to jump from the balcony onto the chandelier.
  “No way!! How are you gonna get me now, Dad?!” Techno yelled from the jingling crystals. His dirt covered face was nothing but confident anger, the look screaming. ‘Look, dad, I won this time.’
  Would he ever learn?
  Phil decided he probably wouldn’t.
  Spreading his wings, Phil soared by the chandelier and swooped up his rebellious child, who had shrieked in fear. “Techno you can’t keep dodging around bathtime! You are ten years old! You’re gonna get lice and shit!!”
  Techno huffed from Phil’s arms as the blond man carried him to the bathing room. “I am not gonna get lice and shit-”
  Phil bapped his son on the head. “Hey! No cursing!”
  “But you curse!!”
  “That’s because I’m an adult, Techno. Children like you don’t need to be cursing- you have nothing to curse at!”
  Techno stuck out his tongue. “I have Wilbur and Tommy to curse at! They’re mean…”
  Phil laughed as he pulled the dirty shirt off his son, who had given up on fighting him now. “Techno, Tommy is three!! He is not mean, he’s a toddler.”
  “Fine, then just Wilbur!!” Techno whined as he was begrudgingly got into the tub. “Wilbur told the gardener I hated his rose bushes!!”
  Phil gave his son a side glance as he washed the grime from his muddy face. “Is that true? Do you hate the rose bushes?”
  Techno moved so harshly, water splashed outside the tub. “NO!!! I love Mr. Gold’s bushes! And he always lets me trim them too!!”
  Phil sighed, scrubbing away at his son. "Well, did you tell Mr. Gold that you love his bushes?"
  Techno looked down. "No…I pushed Wilbur into the river and ran off…"
  Phil looked up and stared into the wall a moment. “Ah so that was why Marie told me Wil was a troublemaker...In any case, that wasn’t very nice of Wil, was it?” Techno nodded and huffed. “Well it’s training day tomorrow- maybe you can get your revenge then, hm?”
  Techno looked up at Phil with bright eyes. “Re..venge?”
  “Oh yeah. Chase him around the yard with a sword, make him train with an axe- you know how he hates axes-” Phil raised up his hands. “But hey- you didn’t hear it from me!” He ruffled his son’s hair with a bar of soap, making the fluffy dark locks stick together. “Now let’s get you all washed up, hm?”
  “Noo!! You can’t make me!! MAIDS!! MAIDS THE KING IS TRYING TO DROWN ME!!!”
  Phil laughed and tried to get his son to settle down.
  Let’s just say Phil’s clothes and wings were a little...damp, after Techno’s bath.
~~*~~
  It was a good day outside and Phil had decided to watch his kids play out in the garden a bit while he brushed up on his sword technique.
  Of course, Techno was absolutely fascinated by the blade and Phil’s movements, not sparing a moment to interrupt his father and berate him with questions. So Phil forced him to go play hide and seek with his brothers.
  Phil loved his sons- they brought him extraordinary amounts of joy- but being around them every free moment he had tended to be exhausting. It’s fair to say that Phil deserved a moment or two on his own.
  Then a moment or two became an hour, then three, and then as the sun was setting over the castle, Wilbur and Techno came running out of the maze with tears in their eyes and dirt and scratches all over.
  “DAD DAD DAD!!!” The children shouted, Techno sprinting as fast as he could and Wilbur trying to do the same, only to stop to catch his breath.
  Phil met the boys halfway and fit his hands over his sons’, worry across his face. He would normally trust his sons to take care of themselves or at least the castle workers to keep eyes on them, but the tears falling down Wilbur's face and the mud and scratches on Techno's told Phil something had happened.
  "DAD I'M SORRY WE-" 
  "THEN WE GOT LOST-" 
  "AND IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN-" 
  "AND IT WAS TECHNO WHO-" 
  "AND THEN WILBUR-"
  "Hey, hey, hey!!" Phil smiled at his distressed sons. "Hey don't worry it's okay now, your father's got you now! It's okay." He hugged his sons close and then pulled them away. "Now calm down and tell me what happened. Where's-"
  In unison, the shout made Phil's heart pump hard.
  "WE LOST TOMMY!!!"
  Phil thought of the loud and confident toddler, always reckless and chaotic but too young to know better. And he thought of his other two sons and how they must be feeling- scared, upset, guilty. The winged man stood up and kept his voice calm and friendly.
  “Okay! It’s okay.” He turned to his oldest son. “Techno, I need you to stay here-”
  “No!! Dad I can help look for Tommy, I’m sorry I know I messed up, b-but I want to look for him a-and-” Techno was stuttering and sputtering and his face was becoming more and more wet as his tears fell under his glasses.
  Phil reached down and placed his hands on the boy’s cheeks, wiping away tears as they fell. “Hey, it’s okay Techno.” The boy’s big grey eyes broke the king’s heart a little, but he knew exactly what to say. “I need you to stay here, Techno, because if Tommy comes back on his own I need you to be here for him. I trust you Techno. You’re a good big brother and I know I can trust you to keep an eye out for Tommy if he comes home.” He pressed a kiss into his son’s hair and gave him a hug. “I know I can trust you with this big job, Techno. Can you do that?”
  The dark haired boy wiped at his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”
  “Thank you, Techno.” Phil smiled. He turned over to Wilbur and held out his hand. “Wil, I need you to come with me, okay? I need your help to find Tommy in the maze. Do you think you can handle it?”
  Wilbur nodded through his teary eyes that refused to stop crying. “I-I ca-an! I-I’m a-a big bo-oy!” The little eight year old blubbered out, trying to be confident and strong as his tears choked his words.
  Phil picked up the boy and nodded at him seriously. “That’s right, Wil. You are a big boy and you’re a good big brother too. That’s why I know you can help me find Tommy.” Setting the boy down, Phil wrapped his hand around his son’s. “We’ll be back soon, Techno. If you find Tommy, take him inside and send Marie to come find me. I trust you, Techno.” And with that he reached into the magic space inside him- a place called The Inventory- and a shiny and translucently blue dagger appeared in his hand. He handed the crystal object to his oldest son and ruffled his hair. “Just in case. Stay safe out here, Techno, I’ll be back soon and then we can all go inside and have some hot cocoa.”
  Techno nodded and his small hand gripped the dagger tightly.
  And with that, Phil took Wilbur and the two of them headed into the maze, the sun above them drowning in the impending black of night.
  And soon the sky was dotted in scattered white and they were alone in the maze, calling for the small toddler.
  “Dad…” Wilbur said after a short while.
  “Yes, My Little Prince?” Phil asked softly.
  “I’m sorry I fucked up so bad…”
  Phil looked down at his son with wide eyes. “Hey, you didn’t fuck up! Why would you say that?”
  Wilbur looked away as more tears filled his brown eyes. “Cause...I-it was my fault Tommy go-ot lost…” He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve- the same hand that still clutched Phil’s. “He was be-ing noisy so I-I told him to go h-hide on his own.” He turned and plunged Phil into the biggest hug his small arms could manage. “Dad I fucked up so bad I’m sorry it’s all my fault!!!”
  Phil knelt down and wrapped his son up in a hug. “Oh dear...Wil you didn’t fuck up shit. You should have stayed with Tommy, true, but it’s not your fault he got lost.” He stroked his son’s hair as the small prince hiccupped into his coat. “These things just happen sometimes, Wil. And look-” He pulled away and placed his hands to Wilbur’s shoulders. “You’re helping look for him! So you really didn’t fuck up that bad if you’re trying to make it right, huh?”
  Wilbur sniffed again then wiped his eyes. “I guess not!” He said with a wet laugh. “C’mon, dad, let’s go find Tommy!”
  Phil smiled. “Actually, I have an idea that might help us find him, but first-” Wilbur looked up at his father curiously, only to be met with a whack on the head.
  “Ow!! Hey!!” The prince whined.
  Phil glared slightly. “No cussing, dammit.” And with that, Phil swooped his son up into his arms and spread his wings. “Okay, ready?”
  “Yeah!!” Wilbur bounced back surprisingly fast from his prior mood and Phil couldn’t help but smile. Kids...So full of energy.
  From high in the sky, Phil and Wilbur could see the twists and turns and secrets of the maze, but still they didn’t see the small toddler. They had been flying for ten minutes when Wilbur spoke again.
  “Dad what if Tommy is lost forever…?”
  Phil didn’t even want to think about that- no matter how illogical it was. “He won’t be lost forever, Wil, I promise. We’re gonna find him.”
  “But, dad, what if we don’t!!” And Phil could still hear the panic in his little prince’s voice and it hurt his heart.
  “Wilbur-” Phil began, still scanning the tall green bushes for a dot of blond hair or a red shirt. “It’s going to be alright. We’re going to-”
  “DAD I SEE HIM, IT’S TOMMY IT’S TOMMY, DAD LOOK I FOUND HIM!!!” Wilbur’s voice brought instant relief and Phil scanned the area again, spotting the little toddler playing with the flowers in one of the many small secret rooms in the maze.
  Landing, they had a short reunion of Tommy shouting and babbling about how he won the game, and of Phil and Wilbur taking turns scolding the boy for running off then hugging him in joy.
  That night they all slept together, little Tommy in the middle of them all.
~~*~~
  It was one of the few times that Phil decided to take all his kids out to the flower fields. The fields were far from the castle and would often present the royal family with small dangers on the journey.
  So of course Phil decided to let his guard captain and his apprentice join them, even if Phil really thought it wasn’t necessary. Wilbur always got along with Jay Schlatt anyway, and it was nice to see his son have friends outside his brothers and the koi fish in the pond.
  They reached the fields and the children went rampant with their games, Wilbur asking Schlatt to climb the big oak tree with him, Techno turning and asking the dark haired boy to spar with him, all of them ending up chasing each other with sticks and little Tommy stumbling behind.
  Phil sat in the flowers and pulled out a book and quill, writing out words and documents and letters he had yet to do, the guard captain standing at the ready behind him with a bow at his back and a sword at his side.
  They had been there not an hour when Tommy- now five- waddled up to Phil with angry tears in his eyes.
  “DAAD!!” The little boy whined. “Dad, Techno and Wilbur won’t let me play with them!!”
  Phil closed his book with the quill inside. “Awh, Tommy. Tell me about it.” He said, patting his lap.
  Tommy came and sat down and Phil began plucking flowers off the ground and weaving them as the boy spoke. “They’re playing with Jay Schlatt and won’t let me play too!”
  “Uh huh? What were they doing?” He wove the yellow flowers together, careful to not damage the petals.
  “They were climbing the tree! The big one! And I asked Techno to help me up the tree, cause I was too short, and then Wilbur said I was a baby and that babies weren’t allowed to climb trees!! But that’s fuck!! I am not a baby!”
  Phil bapped his son on the head. “No cussing. You’re not even using that word right.” He continued weaving, plucking a single red flower to add to the mix. “And you’re right, you’re not a baby, Tommy.”
  “That’s right!! They’re just being meanies, huh, right dad?” Tommy said, rubbing his head, not skipping a beat.
  “Maybe,” Phil said, the flowers in his hands bending and twining together. “But maybe they just want to have this time to themself with Schlatt. He is more of Wilbur’s friend than yours, and Techno spars with him weekly.”
  Tommy whined and gave a huff. “But then what should I do?! No one w-will play with me, dad! I just wanna play with someone…”
  Phil finished his weaving and turned the blonde boy around in his lap. “Well you have two options, I think.” He said, wiping gently at the small tears in the boy’s eyes. “You can go off and find a friend of your own,” He reached over and dropped the flowers onto the small prince’s head. “Or you can play with me, if you want!”
  Tommy looked at Phil and then grabbed the crown of flowers on his head and looked at them. His eyes grew wide, then confused, then- “What the bitch!! How did you make them stick together?!”
  Phil thwacked him on the head again and laughed. “Stop cussing- do you want me to teach you how to make them?”
  Tommy rubbed at his head as his eyes went starry and he nodded vigorously. “Yes!! And then when I show those jerks Techno will say ‘Wow Tommy you made a crown even better than mine, can you make me one?’ and I will say ‘no Techno you are a bad idiot’ and then he’ll cry!!”
  Phil laughed hysterically. “Well maybe don’t do that,” He said, thinking of how the grey eyed boy had matured over the past two years. “But maybe he will want one of your crowns! How cool would that be, hm?”
  Tommy nodded. “That would be the coolest!!”
  They spent hours together in that field making and weaving flower crowns. Techno was the first to come ask what they were doing together. Tommy told him to ‘shit off’ earning another whap from Phil. Then Wilbur came over, dragging a groaning Schlatt behind him. Tommy said another similar thing and Wilbur cussed back at him, both boys getting a whack. And when Schlatt snickered behind Wilbur, all Phil had to do was glare at the boy.
  By the end of the day, everyone was covered in flowers.
  Phil had two crowns, a necklace and three bracelets, Wilbur had a crown and a bracelet and so did Schlatt, Techno had two bracelets and a crown he wore on top of his real one, even the guard captain had a necklace around their neck and crown on their head. Tommy had a crown and a necklace, and by the time they were leaving, he was still weaving another crown.
  Phil thought it was a good day.
  They all left as the midday sun began to slowly slowly descend through the sky, the family walking along, Wilbur and Schlatt lagging behind, Techno beside Phil, and Tommy on his father’s shoulders, still weaving.
  And then Phil heard something from coming from the side of the road- from the bottom of the dry and grassy hill.
  “Hold a moment, captain- did you hear that?” His tone had darkened a little, but was still light as to not unnecessarily scare the children. He placed Tommy on the ground next to Techno and listened again.
  As he heard it once more, he told the others to stay put with his guard captain and slid down the side of the hill.
  At the bottom there was a wooden crate. And inside the crate was the source of the noise- the teary eyed cries of a child. And the child looked up at Phil, his brown hair long and messy, his pale face smudged in soot and dirt. He had on a bracelet with a simple tag on it. “5 years old. 50 emeralds.” The tag made Phil sick and he knelt down calmly to the crying child.
  “Hello, there!” He said kindly. “My name is Philza, what’s your name?”
  The child stuttered violently. “D-d-d-don-don’t h-h-hu-hurt- don’t hurt, p-pl-pl-ple-ase-”
  “Hey, hey…! I’m not going to hurt you, little one. I promise.” He eyed the tag on his wrist again, the twine looking like it was cutting into his wrist. “Can I see your hand for a moment?”
  The boy shook his head and pulled it close to him. “N-n-no m-mo- no more, I-I’m s-sc- d-don’t-”
  “I’m not going to let anything bad happen, to you.” Phil said calmly. “I need to see your hand for just a moment though. It looks like it hurts, doesn’t it?”
  The child sniffed and looked down at his wrist, which was red. The poor boy’s entire body was shaking and it made Phil’s heart wrench. Finally, slowly, the boy lent his hand to Phil.
  Phil took it gently and pulled out a small glassy-blue dagger, cutting the string quickly before the child panicked again and pulled his hand back in fear. “Hey! See! I’m not going to hurt you, I just wanted to take that tag off so it wasn’t hurting you anymore, okay?” Phil explained, holding up the now broken tag.
  The child shook his head at the tag and tried to stutter out something that sounded like ‘no.’
  “You don’t like the tag? Watch-” Phil did a hand trick and stored it into The Inventory with a puff of smoke. “Now the tag is gone forever! No more tag.”
  “N-n-no mo-more ta-tag…?” The boy shook.
  Phil nodded. “No more tag. Not ever again.”
  “E-ever f-f-for-ev-ever?”
  Phil smiled. “Ever forever, little one.”
  And before Phil knew what was going on, the boy had crawled out of the box and into Phil’s lap. “N-n-nic-ce…”
  Phil smiled gently and held the boy, stroking his dirty hair. “That’s right, I’m nice…” He picked the boy up and began back up the hill. He’d have to make a detour on his way home to drop the boy off at the orphanage.
  At the top of the hill, he got questions from his guard captain and Wilbur and Schlatt- the two kids not shutting up because ‘oh wow an entire kid!!!’ Phil was forced to put the child down for a moment to address everything. And in the chaos of discussion and explanation, the world stopped for the word that dropped from Tommy’s mouth.
  “Friend!!” It was a simple word, but as they looked down, they saw the small boy adorned with flowers atop his head and Tommy clinging to his arm. The small prince looked up to his father and smiled with stars in his eyes. “Dad, me and him are friends now!! Look I gave him a crown so he’s a prince just like me!!”
  And as Phil looked down at the dirty boy and saw that his shaking had stopped. His blue eyes locked onto Tommy’s flowers and the arm around his own. And Phil realized he had already made up his mind the moment he’d seen the child. 
  He laughed and picked up Tommy, setting him on his shoulders, the other boy looking sad that Tommy was no longer beside him. But it was short lived as Phil scooped him up in his arms as well. “Just don’t tell your mother there’s another prince!!” He laughed. And once again Phil turned to the small boy in his arms. “My name’s dad, what’s your name?”
  The boy smiled wide and opened his mouth in his first unstuttered word. “Tubbo!”
  “Welcome to the family, Tubbo!”
~~*~~
  Tubbo had been part of the family for three years now and Tommy and him never seemed to separate.
  “Tubbo we should prank Wilbur!! Let’s put butter in his fucking shoes!!” Tommy once yelled, coming into their shared room.
  “Tommy if you’re going to shout your plans, you should make sure no one else is in the room first.” Phil called from his place next to Tubbo.
  “Ah shit!!! I didn’t know you were here, that’s not fair!!” The blonde menace whined.
  Phil tossed a pencil at Tommy’s head, the small object bouncing off harmlessly. “No cussing. And that’s your own fault, Tommy. Now I’m going to hide the butter.” He paused a moment and muttered out a word to Tubbo.
  “What the fuck!!! But I wanted to prank Wilbur with Tubbo, that's not fair!!!”
  “It’s completely fair, Tommy. Besides, Tubbo’s doing homework.” Phil said, now guiding Tubbo’s hand as he wrote.
  “How come Tubbo has to do more homework than us! It’s bullshit!!”
  Phil sighed and finally stood up and walked over to Tommy, knocking him on the head. “No cussing, kid. And Tubbo has to do more homework because he has a harder time writing shit. Maybe you-”
  “Fine then I’ll just help him!!” Tommy shouted.
  That was...unexpected...at least coming from Tommy it was. “Alright. You can help Tubbo then. Be nice, I’ll be back in half an hour.”
  It was a few weeks later when the next thing happened.
  “Dad!! Dad dad dad!! I want to cook!!” Wilbur had come up to Phil in the middle of the day, the King sitting up on his throne and reading over documents.
  “You want to cook?” Phil cocked his head. “What made you want to cook?” He asked, rolling up the scroll in his hands.
  Wilbur shifted. “Well, Tubbo said that he’s never had macaroons before, and you always said I was good at making them, so I wanted to cook them for Tubbo!!”
  Phil smiled. “Aw, that’s nice of you, Wil. I’m a little busy right now, but how about you teach Tubbo how to bake? I can tell Marie to keep an eye on you two.”
  Wilbur smiled. “Holy shit, you’re right!! That’s a good idea!!” And before Phil could whap his son on the head for cursing, the boy was gone.
  “HEY!! No cuss...ing- nevermind.” Phil laughed and shook his head. “They’re never gonna fucking listen…”
  That day they had enough mangled-but-still-delicious macaroons to feed even the castle staff.
  Then it was another few months when Techno came up to Phil.
  “Dad…”
  “Yeah, Techno? What’s up, mate?”
  Techno tugged at his shirt a bit, and Phil noticed his hair was getting a bit long. “I’m worried about Tubbo.”
  Phil sat up straighter. “You’re worried about Tubbo? Has he done something, is he okay?”
  Techno held up his hands. “No no!! Tubbo is fine!! I’m just…” He looked down a bit and pushed his glasses up. “He hasn’t had any combat training like Wilbur and Tommy and me...What if he gets into a fight or something? He should learn how to fight like the rest of us.”
  Phil thought. “You know, you’re right about that Techno. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but you’re right. Who-”
  “So I can train him?!” Techno looked up, a determined look on his face and sparkles in his eyes.
  Phil blinked. “I mean sure. I was gonna say-”
  “YES!!!” Techno bounced, his crown falling over his eyes slightly. “Thanks dad, I’ll see you later!!”
  And then he was off.
  The last thing that happened was the night before Tommy’s birthday, where they would celebrate both him and Tubbo turning nine. All the kids were in bed, and Phil sat up in his room writing documents. Then he heard a small knock on his door.
  “Come in!” He called, expecting a maid or other castle worker.
  “...Hey, dad…?” Phil, not expecting the voice, looked over at Tubbo.
  “Oh, Tubbo! You should be in bed, is something wrong?”
  Tubbo looked around, seeming lost almost, before he shook his head and climbed his way into Phil’s lap.
  Phil smiled and let the boy stay there as he wrote.
  “Dad, why did you make me a prince?”
  Phil stopped writing.
  “What do you mean, little one?”
  “Techno and Wilbur and Tommy are all princes, but you didn’t pick them up in boxes on the side of the road, did you?”
  Phil held onto his son a little more. “I didn’t, you’re right.”
  “Then why did you make me a prince? You didn’t have to adopt me.”
  “Tubbo…” Phil picked him up and took him outside to the balcony. “Let me show you something.” He glanced down at his adopted son. “You holding on tight?”
  Tubbo latched onto Phil tighter and nodded his head.
  Spreading his wings, Phil soared into the sky and flew. He knew the place he was going to.
  In 20 minutes of fast flying, he made it there.
  “Tubbo, do you know where we are?”
  “This is the flower fields...You took us here a while ago. Tommy showed me how to make flower crowns.”
  “That’s right. Did you know this is the place me and your brothers spent the day at before I found you?”
  Tubbo shook his head.
  “This is my favorite place in the world, Tubbo. Do you know why?”
  Tubbo echoed himself, shaking his head again.
  “It’s because I was here the day I found you.”
  The world was very quiet now and together they sat in the dark field of flowers, the sky dotted with stars and fireflies.
  “I think I want to go home now.”
  “You sure?”
  “Yeah. It’s my birthday tomorrow, after all!”
  Phil smiled. “It sure is, son.” The sky was so bright with stars tonight…
  “Dad?”
  “Yes, Tubbo?”
  “I’m glad you made me a prince.”
  The stars reflected in Phil’s eyes as he thought of all his sons and how much he loved his children.
  “Me too, Tubbo.”
  And the stars reflected in the tears that fell from his eyes.
A/n: HaHA! I’m writing more shit again lol. Anyway, I came up with this idea because I tend to go off and write little drabbles when things in the smp happen- like my fundy confronting ghostbur bit or my slightly less narratively written fundy/techno team up post. So i decided on this idea- A fic in which it’s just a bunch of short stories from varying points in the plot with a bit of some creative freedom twists to some of the lore either to fill plot holes or add spice. I encourage you to ask questions about the fic if you have any, and If you liked the story, give it a lil reblog! It helps my work a ton and I mean- what’s the harm in rb it anyway, right? Anyway that’s all for now, Stay Fresh and Minty, Folks!!
70 notes ¡ View notes
i-think-i-love-ya ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Oh My God, They Were Roommates - Part 3
Tumblr media
Fuck Buddy Housemates - Masterlist
Jaebeom x Cis!Female Reader/OC
Words: 1406
Tags: Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, lil bit of nipple play, Sex while others are listening, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, cum swallowing.
A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS ✨UNMOTIVATED✨ but the next part will be posted tomorrow to make up for me being lazy
“I’m home!” You walked in with two drinks from Starbucks. 
“Hey.” You heard Jaebeom’s voice coming from the living room. 
When you walked in he was on the phone. 
“Oh yeah, I guess you never met my housemate. She’s cool. She supply’s me with caffeine all the time.” He said into the phone, taking the latte from you. 
He went silent for a second. 
“Uhh. I don’t know….” he said, looking at you.
“What?”
“He wants to meet you.” He said. 
“Okay… Put him on FaceTime.” You said moving to sit beside JB. 
So he hung up the phone call to switch to FaceTime. 
“His name in your phone is ‘skkrt skkrt’?” You laughed because that was absolutely ridiculous. 
JBs friend answered the phone call and you waved at him. 
“I’m BamBam. Nice to meet you.” He smiled into the camera. 
“My name is yn.”
“Dude you didn’t tell me she was hot.” Bam said, directed at Jaebeom. 
You turned to him. 
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell your friends I’m hot.” You said shaking your head. “That’s just unacceptable behaviour.”
“I should have never let the two of you meet, too much chaotic energy in my life at the same time. Anyways my phone is dying so you hold this while I go get a charger.” JB handed you his phone while he went upstairs to find his charger. 
“Hey uhh yn, you kinda look like you were attacked. Tell your boyfriend to cool it on the marks.” BamBam giggled  
You pulled up the collar on your shirt. 
“I don’t really have a boyfriend.” You said. 
“Girlfriend then?” Bam asked and you shook your head. 
You pointed upstairs and Bambams jaw dropped to the floor. 
“You two aren’t together are you?!” He whispered even though there was no way JB could hear him. 
“No… we have an arrangement.” You explained. 
“Is the arrangement that he rearranges you?!” Bam asked
You burst out into laughter because you couldn’t deny that’s exactly what JB was doing to you. 
“What’s so funny?” JB asked, charger in hand.
You shook your head 
“Nothing. Here.” You handed him back his phone and said bye to BamBam. 
“Dude… Nice.” BamBam said with a thumbs up when you left the room. 
JB looked at his phone confused. 
“She told me about your little ‘arrangement’. Her words.” Bam explained 
“Oh… haha yeah.”
—
You heard a knock on your door and Jaebeoms head poke through. 
“Can I hang?”
You waved him in and pulled the other chair up to your computer desk. 
“Whatcha doing?” He asked
“Playing Among Us with friends.”
“Camera on?”
“Nope.”
”Mic?”
“Only during discussions so we don’t have to type.” You explained. 
JB made a humming noise and leaned back in the chair to watch as you killed someone in the med bay and vented away before anyone could see you. 
“So you uh told BamBam about our situation.” He said after a while. 
“Yeah… should I not have? Sorry I probably should have asked first.” You said. 
“No it’s alright I have no problem with people knowing. I wasn’t telling people cause I wasn’t sure if you wanted to.” He explained. 
“What did he say?” You asked laughing
JB imitated BamBams face after you had left the room and put his thumb up. 
“He’s seriously reconsidering living alone.” He said laughing. 
You laughed into the mic that you had just turned on for discussion time and all your friends asked what was so funny. 
“Oh JB is here beside me, say hi.”
JB leaned into the mic and said hi to all your friends, then covered the mic and gave you a small kiss. 
You were about to tell everyone you had to leave but he stopped you and told you to keep playing. 
After voting someone off you turned your mic back off. 
“So… you told your friends about us?” JB rolled his chair closer to you and started kissing your neck.
You nodded, moving your head to the side to give him more access.
His hands slid up your shirt to play with your nipples.
“Haha… I’ve seen you shirtless so many times yet I keep forgetting you have pierced nipples.” 
You shivered as JB’s thumbs slowly circled your nipples.
“I uhh… normally push your hands away. My nipples are very sensitive. Too sensitive.” You said
JB hummed. One of his hands left your chest to slide down your body. You were wearing a skirt so all he had to do is push your panties out of the way to expose you. 
“Damn baby… already so damn wet.” You moaned as his hands toyed with your breast and pussy simultaneously. 
You lifted one leg over the armrest of your chair to make it easier for him. JB slid two fingers inside right as soon as a meeting was called. 
You turned on your mic to hear the discussion until one of your friends asked why you weren’t saying anything. 
“I… have nothing to add. I was in the middle of doing a sca- ahhh.” JB angled his fingers hitting your g-spot. 
“I’m fine. Stubbed my toe.” You kept quiet and held in your moans until everyone decided to skip the vote. 
Turning off your mic you leaned back in the chair. You moved your character to security so it would look like you're busy. There was still another imposter so they could do the work. 
JB got down on the floor and made his way under your desk. He pulled off your panties and started eating you out. 
Another body was reported so you turned back on your mic but also sent a message into the chat that had all your friends screaming. 
JB could hear that under the desk and asked what happened. 
“Just let my friends know what you’re doing.”
JB hummed and kept licking. You were the last imposter since the other one was voted out and you had to win. 
Your orgasm was also getting very close and you just had to kill two more people so you sabotaged the oxygen and won that way. 
You screamed out as JB lightly ran his teeth along your clit and made you cum.
He hit his head on the desk coming back up and told you to stand up. JB sat down on your chair and pulled you down onto his cock. 
You started a new game of Among Us and you were a crew mate this time. 
“You aren’t gonna move” you asked. 
“Naw… you’ll get to cum again if you win this round.” He said lightly scratching at your thighs. 
During the first discussion Jaebeom heard someone ask what he was doing to you now so he leaned towards the mic. 
“She’s sitting on my cock. She won’t get to cum till the game is over.” He sat back and heard the chorus of screams and squeals through your headset. 
JB filling you up was so distracting that you couldn’t focus on your tasks so the crew mates ended up losing this round. 
You told your friend bye and logged out of your computer. JB pushed you onto the desk when you took off your headset. 
“W-wait… not here. You might hit my tech.” 
So without removing himself from inside you, he lifted you up and carried you to your bed. He put you on your hands and knees and began fucking you. 
You could barely hold yourself up as he was pulling you back into him with so much force. 
You started clenching around him more and more so he could tell you were about to cum. 
He pulled out and walked over to your head. 
“Open.”
You opened your mouth and he rested his cock on your tongue. He began pumping his cock until he came in your mouth. 
You sat back on your feet as he pulled his pants back up his thighs and started leaving your room. 
“You're just gonna leave me hanging.” You were pouting. 
He turned back around and walked up to you. 
“Yup. You lost the game which means you don’t get to finish.” He had a smug smirk on his lips. 
“And yn,” he grabbed your chin and turn your face towards him, “you don’t cum tonight at all… not even by your own hands.” JB left your room. 
When you heard the door close you threw your face into your pillows and groaned. 
50 notes ¡ View notes
missblissy ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Rebirth (Chapter Five)
Alastor X Human!Reader ((Reincarnation!AU)) 
Tumblr media
Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five
Tagged: ((You can ask to be added to the tagged list!!)) @alastors-bambi @peachesandkats​ @riintss @destiny-in-the-universe​ @dadzawas-eyebags @daedaliaaan @putridjoy @shieldagentofthemonth @originofthedragonjim @animals4ever527 @jexinqq @chaotic-pansexual @geekin-about-alastor @keenhumanoidduckeagle @fafefae @honeydrops01010 @itz-kira @xoceanicgemzx @the-monochrome-jester @holdnyvaseline @temmieboi04 @ultimately-purrrfect @lukatherat 
You could still smell the herbs from a few days ago. You were in your kitchen making yourself something to eat. It had been almost two days and there wasn’t a single sign of Alastor or Eon. Your mind was busy with other thoughts anyways. Your father’s surgery went well and he was on a slow recovery. Hopefully, it helped with his condition, but you doubt it would slow down his one-way ticket to the grave. You took a small bite of the PB&J that you made and suddenly you didn’t feel so hungry anymore. 
Instead, you wanted to break down and cry. You leaned on your counter, looking down at the sandwich as tears began to well in your eyes. So much shit has happened these past few days. You moved and now lived by yourself for the first time in your life, you were going to college at the same time while looking for a new job, and demon decided it was going to drop an entire shit load of problems that didn’t even involve you. Just your soul. And on top of that, your father was dying. It broke your heart when you waited with your mother for him to get out of surgery. Your father was a strong and proud man and to see him wither away into a husk, a shadow of what he used to be... It was all too much. You couldn’t take it anymore.
The sobs came quickly. You crouched on the floor behind the counter and held your knees as you cried away. You felt as though the entire world was against you. You were thankful for the few people you had. 
You didn’t want to feel bad anymore so you did your best to dry your tears. As you stood back up you saw something on your counter that wasn’t there before, “Huh?” Next to your pathetic sandwich now laid a thick leather-bound book with a sticky note taped to the cover. You were ready to roll your eyes and dumb the book into the trash, you already knew it was from Alastor.
That’s when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck start to rise while a familiar dry static energy began to fester within your home, “Go away!” You yelled, “I’m not your wife! I don’t know you! And you don’t know me!” You were talking to the air, but you knew Alastor was here. You could feel his energy. You could even feel his eyes on you, even if he wouldn’t show himself and choose to hide, “Just because you could guess my favorite food and color doesn’t mean I’m still your wife! So what if we have similar taste in stuff! I’m not her! You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know my family, my friends, you don’t even know my birthday! You can’t name a single thing about me other than what you can guess off the top of your head!”
You wanted to cry again and when a tear dripped down your cheek, you tell he was gone. The static fizzled away into still air and the feeling of eyes on your vanished as well. The book was still there though. You kept telling yourself to just throw it out but another part of you wanted to see just what kind of gift Alastor had left you.
You sniffled and ran the back of your hand over your eyes to clean away the tears. You pulled the book into view and read the note. At first you couldn’t believe it, but... Alastor had very... very... pretty handwriting. It was perfect and drawn with pen and ink well. 
The note said: 
        I think I went about this all wrong, (Y/n). I should have given this to you in the beginning. I’m sincerely sorry. This used to belong to your former self. It’s your diary. To unlock it, you must use your blood. Just a pinprick should work. I hope this helps and answers the questions you’ve been looking for.
       - A   :) 
Was this for real? And he had to just add the smiley face? Ugh... You rolled your eyes and looked over the book. It didn’t even have a lock on it, so why the hell was he talking about using your blood?  When you opened up the book, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Every page was yellow and blank. Nothing was in the damn book! Was he just playing a sick joke on you?
There was only one way to find out. You flipped deep within the book and towards the middle. You took a kitchen knife from your silverware drawer. You cringed in pain as you pricked the tip of your finger and watched the blood pitter-patter onto the pages. Nothing happened at first and you were ready to burn the book and get some more herbs to make sure Alastor didn’t come back.
But after a minute or so your blood soaked into the page and words began to appear. The looked like they were written in gold. The ink was metallic and shiny. You brushed a finger over the words and felt the little rise and fall of the ink and space between each letter. It took a second for the page to fill with words. Okay... maybe he wasn’t lying and this was your past self’s diary. You went ahead and began reading the passage you had randomly opened up too. 
1939, December 29th:
     This castle I call my home is nothing but chains holding me down. I have spent the last... some 2,000 years at this post. I didn’t know that serving as the Gatekeeper of Hell was a “forever” kind of deal. I guess that's what you get for letting Lucifer be your boss. I wish every day that I could leave this castle. But soon again I will! The seventh year of my new sentence is coming up and I will be free to roam for another 365 days. Then for the next 6 years, I will be trapped in this castle again. 
     At least I have Alastor. This empty castle isn’t so empty with him around. He fills the hallways with songs and music, with smells of food I never knew existed. He makes me laugh, something I haven’t done in a long time. He makes me smile and when I cry he doesn’t run in fear like everyone else in my afterlife. 
     It’s been six years since I made that life-changing deal with an even bigger Devil than Lucifer. It’s been six years since Alastor manifested at the gates of Hell and offered me the salvation and freedom I craved. No, he wasn’t the deal maker. The spirit that was attached to his soul was. Eon. I sold what was left of my soul to him just so I could see the world again. 
     In just a few days I’ll be able to walk out of this castle and go where ever I want again. The first thing I’m doing is marry Alastor at the top of a pile of corpses that belong to every enemy I’ve ever made. I can’t wait to taste the blood and tears of them all. I will kill all of those fools who dared to call me a cry baby, to call me weak, to say my emotions meant nothing. Every time I shed a tear I turn into a monster and monster is what they will see. I will rip their heads from their necks. I will take their hearts and squeeze every drop of blood until there is nothing left. And I will do this with Alastor by my side, cheering me on as I finally get the justice and revenge I’ve so deserved.  
The words started to fade slowly and disappear again. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at. Once the passage was finally gone and the pages were blank again... You slammed the book closed. This was a dangerous thing. A tempting thing. 
It called to you like a song in the night. You could feel your entire soul reach out and try and open the book back up and read every word. Something about this book filled you with fear, curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite put together.
After several moments of fighting with your own thoughts, you decided that you’d read some more. You flipped the book back open. You choose a spot very close to the end and pricked your finger again. The blood splashed onto the page and soaked in much quicker than last time.
1996, February 4th: 
     Today I laid waste to another sector of Hell. When I came to my castle home, Alastor was waiting for me. I know I write about him to much, but he is everything that matters to me. This entire book could easily be mistaken for a stalker. Good thing I cursed it to never open for anyone, not even Alastor. I love him, but even I must keep my secrets too. That and I don’t want him to know how much I obsess over him. 
     For starters, it’s our anniversary. He always tells me, “I never wanted to get married! I never thought I would! Marriage was a waste of time in my opinion -Blah Blah Blah-” Same old stuff, then he’d leap into some musical number about how I changed that and how much he loves me and how happy he is to call me his wife. 56 years later and he’s still the same dork he’s always been. Sure, he likes to act tough, mean, scary and evil, but deep down inside that psychopath... is another even bigger and weirder psychopath. But that’s what I love about him. He’s such a strange creature. But I love him. 
     I love that stupid little tail of his that wags when he sees me or how he’d flip his tail all the way up as he danced around the room. I love that he chooses to sleep just because it’s a pastime I enjoy. Though he’ll always remind me, “You know, we don’t have to sleep, right?” Yeah, but I still liked to cling on to my humanity. And most of all... I love when he cries with me. It’s so hard for me to fight my black tears and to not let them stain my face. For so long, I never saw an emotion escape him. He even thought it was weak of me to be so emotional and we got into many arguments about it. However, he saw that it was just my nature to be like this. Now that we’ve spent 5 decades together, he shares all my emotions. The high and especially the lows. He’ll weep, shed tears, and tell me it’s okay. He’d kiss every single black tear away even when I turned into a monster... I have to remember though, I don’t turn into a monster. It’s just my natural demonic form that I suppress and hide and hold back. Alastor says he loves it more than the my... human look I take on. Maybe one day I’ll be strong enough to love myself the way he loves me. 
     I know... I know... I need to shut up about this man. But I can’t. He’s a person deep down inside. A messed up one, but still a person. He knows my pain, he’s seen my struggles. His life wasn’t much different from mine. We were both... innocent for so long until a darkness we couldn’t control grew from our pain and suffering. We joke about how we’d have gone to Heaven if only things were different... Is it bad for me to wish they were sometimes? What if we met when we were alive and still human? Would he still have become a cannibal? Would I still have committed suicide? If only we could have been there for each other sooner rather than later... 
The words started to fade again just as you had finished the passage. This book... It was going to answer a lot of questions. You felt an unknown connection to it. You slowly closed the book, deciding that for you’d put it away for now. You weren’t going to throw it away either. 
Something about the way your past self wrote about Alastor, about how much she loved him, it slowly changed your opinion of him. It got you thinking about how Alastor must have felt to have lost you. He spent 22 years searching for you, looking all over the planet and heaven above just so he could be with you again. It was romantic in a twisted way. You still couldn’t bring yourself to feel much for the demon other than anguish and pity. You felt sorry for him because you were not the same person. And you were beginning to learn that, yes, there were many things similar about you and your past self, such as your name and your looks, but you never had the same struggles.
You walked over to your bookshelf and squeezed the large leather book into a spot that barely fit. You had to get to your classes soon. You really didn’t have the energy to do anything and you were incredibly depressed. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you looked at the spine of the diary. You wanted to reach out and grab and keep reading and the thought of leaving it at home oddly upset you more. You knew you couldn’t bring it with you though. Not many people would be too pleased to see some girl cutting her finger dozens of times to read some magical book. You’d probably get thrown in some kind of crazy house. 
So, with a sigh, you tore yourself away from the book’s gaze and grabbed your bag. As you got to the door, you took one look back at the book. You stood there for a second longer than you should have then turned and gone out the door. 
_______________________________________________
 1933, March 3rd: 
     I couldn’t believe it. He’s here. I never thought he’d make it here but he is and he’s wandering around the castle. Alastor had finally died. He didn’t even wander through purgatory. He manifested before my eyes just in front of the gates. 
     I already love him but I will not say that allowed or anywhere else in this book. I can’t help but love him because he is letting me make a deal with the deadliest deal maker to have ever wandered to this side of the planet. 
     Eon. A spirit not even from this world, universe or dimension. He’s from a world so distant and far from this one that we know very little about him, other than that people wall him The World Destroyer. Apparently, it’s Eon’s goal to consume every soul in every universe and dimension. Lucifer warned me that making a deal with this creature would end in horrible ways. It didn’t seem that it ended that bad for Alastor, seeing as he was the one who summoned Eon here and sold his soul for the chance at unlimited power in the afterlife. 
     None of that matters now. I’ve made up my mind. I want to leave this castle and I want the ability to control my afterlife and what happens to me. I must go, Alastor is waiting for me and I can not wait to leave this castle wage war against all of those fools who laughed at me, all over those Overlords who think they're better than me. Alastor just wants to kill and feed souls to Eon, he wants to create chaos and topple over those in power so he can make his mark among the legends.
     I want revenge. 
Your eyes were heavy, they even had little dark bags under them. You had spent the last three hours reading the diary. Your finger was a dark purple color and you felt light-headed. You sat in your living room at the edge of your couch.
Almost two weeks have passed now since Alastor disappeared and left you this book. There was nothing coming from him. Normally you could tell when he was hiding somewhere in a dark corner or in the shadows. You’d feel his static energy wave off him, but there was none of that. Nothing. Not a single haunting. Had he finally given up? You weren’t sure. You didn’t think so. You cleansed your home but Vanderlinde said that you’d have to do it every couple of days, which of course you didn’t. You completely forgot to do that the second Alastor left the book for you. 
The book, however, was everything you may have asked for. You learned how Alastor had given everything to your past self. He loved you more than anything and you wrote about that often. He grew a rose garden around the castle your past self was trapped in every six years just so you’d smile. He murdered and tortured those who wronged you. He’d cook all of your favorite foods, even if they were mostly sugary pastries and candies, which you found out he hated. You learned so much about Alastor. He loved cooking, singing, dancing, making people smile and entertaining others to the point of laughter. He drank coffee every morning with you on a balcony overlooking the little empty Kingdom the two of you shared. He’d stand from the tallest tower and sing love songs to you while you worked at the Gates of Hell. He taught you to play the piano, how to better defeat your enemies, how to use Voodoo magic against the living and even the dead, he shared stories of his life and family and home, his dreams that never came true and his hopes that all but died until he met you.
You quickly learned that not every passage in the diary would show itself to you. You covered several pages with your blood but nothing ever happened. The only passages that would reveal themselves were the ones that mentioned Alastor. You weren't sure this was his doing or not because the book said that even Alastor couldn’t open it. 
You were very dazed and confused, you lost a lot of blood in this process. One more passage, you told yourself, then I’ll stop. Suddenly there was a knock at your door. You almost jumped out of your skin, “It’s open,” you called, knowing exactly who it already was. 
Sage kicked open the door and rushed in, “Where is he!?” She yelled as her eyes darted around the room, “Where is that talk show shit lord!?” She just got back from the hunt she was on. She texted you this morning that she’d be over as soon as possible
Maybe it was the lack of blood or the massive wave of depression that’s been with you for the last two weeks, but you couldn’t bother to get up from the couch. You just closed the heavy book and muttered, “He’s not here anymore,” Why did you sound so defeated when you said that?
Sage was a little stunned by your state, “Are you okay?” She closed the door behind her and came to sit next to you on the couch. She was your best friend, more so than you were with Vanderlinde. However, you felt some kind of betrayal that she never told you about this huge secret part of her life. Ya know, the whole demon hunter slash witch thing? Yeah, that kind of upset you. 
“I’m fine. Just... a lot is going on right now,” You confessed, “Not so much the demon haunting my house thing. Alastor hasn’t shown up since Van and I cleansed this place. It’s more so... just life and shit,” It wasn’t a total lie. You were stressed about your father and still not having a job. Your bank account was starting to get dangerously low. 
That’s when Sage noticed the book in your lap. She pointed to it, asking, “What’s that?” 
“Just a diary I’ve been keeping,” Again, not a total lie, “Nothing cool,” 
She didn’t say anything for a second and you wondered if she knew you were trying to cover up something. Eventually, Sage just shrugged and said, “Okay, well, I brought some stuff that might help you out if that dumb ass shows his stupid face again,” Sage took the backpack off her shoulders and set it down next to your feet, “There’s even a little guide book in there that I made for you. Basic magic stuff that anyone can do. Rituals, cleansings, crystals, herbs, blessed water, and bones. Pretty much everything you’ll need,” 
“Thanks,” You mumbled as you pulled the bag closer to you. You didn’t think you’d need any of that stuff seeing as Alastor kind of gave up on bothering you. The first sign of a fight and he turns tail. From what the diary told you- that was very out of character for him. You had a feeling he’d be back but you weren’t sure when or for what, “Hey- actually, I have question,” You peered at your friend. There was something bubbling in your mind that you had been wondering about. You knew the internet wouldn’t have this answer so maybe your friend did. 
She gave a small smile and said, “Okay, shoot,” She seemed more than happy to help. 
“Um... Would you actually know how to... summon a demon?”
259 notes ¡ View notes
fieryfantasybooklover ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Not Dracula - A Sanders Sides fic
Ship: None, just friendship.
Vampire/Human/Highschool AU
---------------------------------------------------
Virgil sighed, dropping his keys onto the counter before slinging his backpack onto the armchair in his living room and collapsing onto the couch. “By god, it’s been one hell of an exhausting day. Tonight is a night for procrastination and movies. It’s Friday anyway. I have all weekend to be productive.” With that, Virgil retrieved his phone from his pocket and pulled up the group chat he had with his friends. “Hey guys. You wanna come over and hang out? Parents are out of town for a few days.” he texted, already rolling his eyes in anticipation of his friend’s responses. And he wasn’t disappointed - they all replied within the span of a minute, with varying degrees of seriousness.
Nerdy Wolverine: Virgil, you should know by now that we are not going to hang out. That would be dangerous. If you are asking about spending time together as friends, then that would indeed be nice. Also, Roman, I’ve told you many times before that I dislike this nickname.
Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Well, I’ve asked Virgil to take this nickname off but he won’t. So-
Emo Nightmare: Roman, you’ve said so many times that you like that nickname. So, please spare it.
Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Oh be quiet Virgil. As I was saying, Logan, we are both stuck with nicknames. As an answer to Virgil’s original question, I would positively love to come over!
Pop Star: Well, kiddo, I think that’d be great. When do you want us over? I can bring the snacks if you want!
Emo Nightmare: How about around 8:30. Patton, you can bring the snacks but for the love of god please don’t bring capri sun juice packs again.
Pop Star: …. Ok fine
Reptilian Rapscallion: It would be amazing, if you could maybe, not forget that I am in fact included in this chat as well? And since I am counted among your friends Virgil, I am going to go out on a limb and say it would be ok for me to come as well.
Emo Nightmare: Janus- Ok. Yes, of course you can come. You saw the time, right?
Reptilian Rapscallion: Yes, I did. 8:30. I’ll be over then.
The Duke: I’ll be tagging along as well, my chaotic self would not miss this for the WORLD ;))
Roman, Patton, Virgil, Logan, and Janus in sync: *massive sigh* alright then this should be interesting.
Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Well, if everything is all worked out, I’ll take my leave. See everybody soon!
Pop Star: Same here! See all you kiddos later!
Nerdy Wolverine: Farewell for now, everybody.
Reptilian Rapscallion: I shall also leave, and begin to plan out how to avoid Remus causing an explosion.
The Duke: And I’ll plan how to counteract Janus’s plan :)))
Emo Nightmare: *sigh* alright. See you all then.
Virgil fell backwards, sighing deeply as he looked up at the ceiling. “They’re all crazy, but the good kind of crazy. God, Remus is going to kill something someday. Welp, might as well try and do something productive before they arrive.” With that, Virgil tosses his phone to the floor and sets to doing his chores. Dusting the staircase, washing the leftover dishes from the morning, vacuuming up the carpet, Virgil did all of these while blasting his favorite MCR songs. When he was finally finished, he opened the fridge’s secret compartment and pulled out a bottle of blood. Fangs snapping out, he uncorked it and drained it down. Fangs retreating, he tossed the battle out of the window into the waiting garbage can. It was at that moment that the doorbell rang. Wiping his mouth, Virgil grinned and ran to answer it.
Opening it, Virgil barely managed to dodge Roman as the other pushed his way past Virgil. Rolling his eyes, Virgil followed Roman into the living room. Roman collapsed onto the chair and immediately began prattling on about his day. It was comforting, not annoying, and Virgil smiled as he replied to his friend, teasing him and inciting a hilarious reaction in return. It didn’t take long for the others to arrive. First Janus, followed by Logan, then Remus, then Patton, who had come late because he was laden down with snacks. Thus commenced a night of fun and games. Remus had to be stopped from attempting a multitude of crimes, Roman tackled Logan repeatedly, and Janus saved pictures for later blackmail. Virgil just doubled over laughing almost the entire time, and Patton kept the entire thing together. It didn’t take long for them all to become delirious, drunk on sprite and high on sugar.
So when the truth or dare began, the natural inhibitors that remained during the day were not present. So, when Virgil chose truth, he had absolutely nothing stopping him from blurting out that he was a vampire. Which is exactly what he did. A shocked silence echoed after the statement, and then Roman broke out laughing. “Finally, I was wondering when you were finally going to tell them.” Remus smirked from the corner. “I also wondered. After an extensive amount of research and tests I came to the conclusion that you were a vampire.” Logan said, adjusting his glasses as he glanced at Virgil. “Oh come on. Virgil, you can’t think I’d believe that. You’re very emo, but no.”
“Yeah kiddo. I trust you, but this seems a bit implausible.” said Patton, casting a sideways glance towards Logan.
Virgil said nothing, instead standing up and stalking to the fridge. Opening the hidden compartment, he stood aside to give them a full view of the lined up bottles of blood. Patton stood bolt upright and Roman’s eyebrows raised in shock. Janus did not move, but did cast his eyes to the ceiling with a “Well, it seems that our emo is also a vampire. Well, I am honestly not surprised.”
“Well Virgil. I can’t deny that this is very impressive but- vampires aren’t real.”
To this, Virgil sighed, opened his mouth, and unhinged his fangs. “Is that enough to convince you, Roman?” he asked, retracting them again.
“Well, kiddo, I do believe you now.” said Patton, who, surprisingly, had a face of wonder rather than fear on his face.
“Well, they could be fake…” Roman trailed off as the full weight of everything hit him. “Oh my god you really are a vampire.” he breathed. “Yes, yes I am. Don’t worry, I’m friendly and not dracula. Fine in the sun (I really just am emo), garlic does nothing and neither does holy water. Oh, and I’m also not immortal. I just need blood to stay healthy. Animal blood does just fine so that’s what I use.” Virgil said, shooting them a glance, waiting. Their faces varied from wonder (Patton and Roman) to exasperation (Janus and Logan) to positively evil (Remus). There was not a single speck of fear or hate in their glances. “Oh my god, you’re a vampire. That’s so cool!” Roman said, clearly in awe. “The chances for so many pranks...” Remus muttered eagerly, and Virgil sighed. “I can safely say this will be fine, but I can’t deny it will add some interest to this group.” Logan said, clearly already prepping for thwarting Remus. Janus nodded his agreement, adding a simple “You’re so emo, I’m not even surprised.” earning him a playful punch from Virgil. “Well, kiddo, I’m just happy you told us.” Patton grinned at Virgil, earning a smile in return.
They dispersed to their individual sleeping bags, playfully teasing each other before divulging to the telling of scary stories. Many featured vampires, to which Virgil only rolled his eyes. Eventually, they all dropped off to sleep, exhausted and drained of energy from the night full of fun. The clouds and the moon drifted overhead, to be gone by the time they awoke. The friends slept soundly, safe in the knowledge that they would always have each other, no matter the challenges they were faced with.
10 notes ¡ View notes
hunter-the-sad-skeleton ¡ 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Chapter two “Where there’s a Wooloo, there’s a way!”
Ace jolted upright from the couch he was sleeping on as he was woken up by a knock on the door. Ace slowly got up, Wooloo speedily making her way over to help him walk over to answer the door.
Ace unlocked and opened the door, finding himself face to face with Piers. “Oh! Piers! What’re you doing here so early?” Ace asked.
“Early? It’s almost time for the opening ceremony for the gym challenge, mate.” Piers said.
Ace yelped in surprise, checking the time. Twenty minutes left. Ace hurriedly got ready, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, rushing out to join Piers outside.
“Thanks for coming over to pick me up!” Ace thanked Piers, following him to the stadium.
“No problem. Raihan volunteered, but I took the job instead since I felt like Raihan woulda been too much energy for ya this early.” Piers explained. Ace chuckled, shaking his head as he remembered the dragon type gym leader.
“Yeah...I love Raihan, but he’s a bit too much at eight in the morning…” Ace chuckled.
“Agreed. He’s a good lad ‘n’ all, but he IS a bit too energetic for the mornings.” Piers nodded.
The two kept talking on the walk there, Ace leaning on Wooloo as he went.
“Hey! If it ain’t Bleary-Eyed-Ace and Obstagoon stan!” Raihan called, waving from across the locker room.
“Hey, Ray-Ray…” Ace waved tiredly.
“What took ya so long? Milo was worried ya bailed again!” Raihan asked.
“Slept in.” Ace and Piers said in unison.
“I thought ya always set an alarm, Ace!” Raihan gasped.
“I didn’t set one last night because yesterday was so chaotic..” Ace winced.
“What happened exactly?” Raihan asked.
“Wooloo ran away from home and we had to chase after it. I twisted my leg, spraining it.” Ace explained.
“Ooh...Ow…” Raihan winced.
“Yeah.” Ace grinned.
“Good thing I was passing by. If I didn’t, you woulda become a pancake. Good thing Obstagoon is quick.” Piers chuckled dryly.
“Yeah, thanks Boo...” Ace yawned.
“Boo?” Piers asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Aww!” Raihan grinned.
Ace’s eyes widened as realization slapped him in the face with a magikarp. “Wait, I-I-I didn’t mean it!” Ace apologized, waving his hands around. Ace squeaked as his hair was ruffled.
“It’s nothing, bud. It’s an adorable nickname.” Piers assured.
“R-Really?” Ace asked, tilting his head in curiosity. Piers nodded, starting to walk out to the pitch. Ace jumped, following them out.
Ace winced slightly at the sudden loud cheering of the crowds, remembering why he never went to the opening ceremony for the gym challenge. Wooloo stopped when he needed to, moving again when Ace went to start moving again.
“Ace. Didn’t expect you to show up.” Nessa greeted.
“Me either…” Ace winced, forcing a smile.
“It’s good to see you again, Ace.” Kabu greeted.
“You too, bud.” Ace nodded.
“Ace! Ya made it!” Milo waved. Ace nodded, grimacing slightly.
“Ya doin’ okay bud?” Piers asked, noticing the grimace. Ace nodded, waving it off.
As Rose did his typical introductory speech, Ace started spacing out as he tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for it to be over, grumbling to himself.
As soon as Leon was mentioned, Ace braced himself for Hell. He grimaced, tensing up at the volume increase, cursing himself for forgetting his sound dampening headphones at home in the rush to get there on time.
Ace’s foot tapping sped up as time went on, spacing out slightly, only getting snapped out of it when his name was mentioned for a battle.
“What?!” Ace gasped.
“Oh boy.” Gordie whistled.
“Poor guy…” Kabu lamented.
“Guys, against who?!” Ace peeped.
“Who ISN’T in our lineup right now?” Milo asked.
“Oh Hell-I’m not being pitted against Ray-Ray, am I?” Ace asked.
The other gym leaders broke eye contact, wincing.
“Oh Arceus and Mew above…” Ace winced.
Ace slowly made his way out to the part of the pitch that he was supposed to stand at.
Taking a deep breath, Ace made eye contact for a second before breaking it again. Ace pulled out an ultra ball and threw it out to the pitch, releasing a Lanturn.
“Okay bud, I ain’t going easy!” Raihan called.
“Good!!! Cause I ain’t going easy on YOU either!!” Ace retorted.
“Ya don’t NEED to.” Raihan muttered to himself.
“What?!” Ace called.
“Ho, hum, nothing!” He called back.
(Timeskip)
As the battle dragged on, Ace winced as his leg started bugging him worse, but he ignored Wooloo’s warnings to sit down. Ace leaned on Wooloo, pain shooting through his leg.
“Ace, do ya need to stop?!?” Raihan called.
“No!! I’m fine!!!” Ace called back, despite being on the verge of passing out from pain.
Raihan had a look of skepticism on his face as he noticed Ace was about to fall over.
“I can keep going!!” Ace protested, despite Wooloo trying to get him to take a break.
“I can always call it off, bud!!” Raihan called.
“No need!!! Cause I can manage!!” Ace protested. Raihan sighed, continuing forward.
Ace froze as he saw a Dynamax aura start wafting through the stadium. Panic rushed through his system, Ace getting thrown back ten years.
Eventually, Ace snapped out of it, darting in front of Morpeko, taking the hit for her.
“ACE!!!!” The other gym leaders gasped.
“Acey, no!!!” Raihan called, telling Noivern to cut off the attack.
As the dust cleared from being kicked up by the attack, Ace seemed to be fine, just a little scraped up.
“No, I’m-*KAFF*-fine..!!” Ace coughed, slowly getting up despite pain shooting up through his leg.
“No, you’re not.” Raihan frowned. Raihan picked Ace up, walking off to the locker rooms, Noivern following behind him.
As he walked into the locker room, the other Gym Leaders hurried over to check on Ace. “Is he okay?!” Nessa asked, worried about Ace.
“What happened out there?!” Milo asked.
“He pulled a him.” Raihan said tiredly.
“Ace, we’ve talked about this!” Milo whimpered.
“......” Ace didn’t make eye contact.
Raihan put Ace down, scowling. “What was that out there, Acey? You KNOW how dangerous it is to take a hit from Noivern!” Raihan scolded.
“......” Ace was dead silent.
“Did we do something wrong?” Raihan asked.
“...” Ace was still silent.
“...Fine. Act like a child. Just know that we tried to help.” Raihan sighed, starting to walk away.
“......Lee…….” Ace mumbled, Raihan freezing in his tracks.
“What?” Raihan asked.
“I remembered Lee...And I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I panicked, I-I-I-I-I-I-I didn’t mean to jump in the way!! I-I-I was just so scared!!” Ace whimpered, gently hitting himself on the head.
Raihan winced, rushing back over to Ace, grabbing his wrists and holding them still. “Acey, Acey, Acey, it’s okay, breathe, calm down, it’s okay…!” Raihan assured.
Ace’s breathing got patchier and he started shaking as memories started coming back.
“ACEY, STOP.” Raihan announced. Ace froze, slowly making eye contact.
“....R-Ray-Ray…?” Ace asked shakily, tears slowly welling up in his eyes.
“Acey, name me five things you can see.” Raihan instructed.
“U-Uh...I-I can see….You...Nessa...Milo...St-Stumpy...Th-The floor...an-and-and-an-and th-the locker in th-the far corner…” Ace stuttered.
“Good. Four things you can hear?” Raihan asked, looking in Ace’s bag for his Mp3 player.
“U-Um...Y-Your voice...The-Th-The Air conditioning unit...th-the crowd outside...a-and you digging through my b-bag…” Ace stammered.
“Good. Three things you can feel?” Raihan asked, still searching for the Mp3.
“U-Um...m-my pants...M-My hoodie...a-and...St-Stumpy’s f-fur…” Ace stuttered.
“Good. two things you can smell?” Raihan asked.
“U-Um...Stumpy...A-And...a-a-and...th-the uh...the...the cleaner used to clean t-th-the locker room…” Ace stammered.
“Aaaand one thing you can taste?” Raihan asked finally.
“U-Um...Regret…?” Ace asked.
“No. One thing you can taste.” Raihan stressed heavily.
“U-Um...U-Uh...I-I can taste...Um...Oh, I-I can taste last night’s r-ramen…!” Ace blurted out.
“Okay, good.” Raihan said pulling out Ace’s Mp3 player and handing it to him. “Here. Take this and calm down a bit.”
“I...th-thanks…” Ace said, putting his headphones on and listening to music to calm down.
The Gym Leaders talked among themselves, falling silent as they noticed Rose walk in.
“Hello everyone, I saw Ace get rushed out, is...Everything okay?” Rose asked.
“Just a little bit of anxiety and sensory overload is all, Chairman.” Raihan explained.
“Oh! That’s unfortunate! Is he feeling better?” Rose asked, concerned about the condition of the young Gym Leader.
Raihan tapped Ace on his shoulder, getting his attention. “Yeah?” Ace asked, taking his headphones off.
“How do ya feel?” Raihan asked.
“Oh! I feel better, thanks!” Ace smiled.
“Excellent!” Rose smiled.
“Oh! Chairman Rose, sir!” Ace peeped, jolting upright.
“Hello, Ace, I hope your Gym has been faring well?” Rose smiled.
“It’s...as busy as ever...which is...not at all…” Ace grimaced.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that!” Rose apologized.
Ace shrugged. “I’m used to it at this point. But hey, at least I get to nap all day!” Ace joked.
Rose frowned. “Is there any way I could help?” He asked gently.
Ace shook his head no. “ ‘fraid not.”
Rose shook his head. “I hope you gain traction soon. From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you’ve always wanted to be a Gym Leader, so I want your dream to succeed.” Rose explained.
Ace cringed as childhood got mentioned. “Yeah…”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stir up unhappy memories?” Rose asked.
Ace froze, shaking his head. “No, no! You’re fine! I just need to get over it is all!” Ace explained.
Rose sighed, giving Ace a tired smile. “Well, if you ever need anything, you can always ask me or one of the other Gym Leaders.” Rose invited.
Ace nodded, waving goodbye as Rose walked out.
“Ace, are ya feeling better?” Milo asked gently.
“Yeah...I am…!” Ace nodded.
Wooloo waddled over to Ace, putting her head in his lap.
“Come on, Skyla, we have a visit to make…” Ace said, getting up.
“Mind if I tag along?” Piers asked.
“Piers?! Where have ya been!?” Ace asked.
“Sorry, I got, uh, busy with something.” Piers apologized. Ace chuckled.
“You’re fine, bud!” Ace grinned, blushing slightly.
Piers chuckled, Ace hiding in his hoodie as his face blushed harder. “Let’s move, I wanna get the uh, the-the-the visit done before Winter gets home..!” Ace stammered.
“Lead the way, Tiny.” Piers smirked. Ace squeaked, leading the way to a small shop just outside Spikemuth.
“I’ll take 12 potions and 25 pokeballs, please!” Ace requested.
“Of course, sir!” The shopkeeper nodded, grabbing the items for Ace and handing them over to him after he paid.
“How’d ya get so much money?” Piers asked, confused.
“Oh! My animations on Mewtube are monetized, so I earn money from them!” Ace explained, starting to walk off.
“Huh…” Piers hummed.
Ace walked home, Piers following close behind to make sure he got home safely.
“Thanks for walking me home, Piers…!” Ace thanked.
“No problem. You’re wonderful to be around.” Piers shrugged.
Ace smiled gently. “Also, I’d recommend getting a lighter hoodie or not wearing a hoodie at all. Your face is SUPER red, dude.” Piers said, Ace’s stomach dropping with each word spoken.
Ace’s face went pale and he hurried up his goodbye and rushed inside. “Heck...He almost found out.” Ace blushed heavily.
(With Piers.)
Piers walked back into Spikemuth, turning the events of the day over in his head.
“I hope Ace is doing okay...He seemed SUPER RED in the face…” Piers muttered.
Piers was shaken out of his spaced out trance by Obstagoon nudging him forward, almost knocking him over. “Okay, big guy, I get it, I get it, ya wanna get home.” Piers laughed.
Chapter two is FINALLY here, boys, girls, and others!(Reblogs appreciated!)
3 notes ¡ View notes
suffering-and-happy-about-it ¡ 5 years ago
Text
WhatsApp? Part 10. (Steve Rogers x reader)
Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you
A/N: Man I live for Sam Wilson. He’s too much to handle. He’s that chaotic friend for sure.
Word count: 1.9 K
Warnings: Probably like none? Idk.
Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory
Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six  Part seven  Part eight  Part nine
If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  
Tumblr media
You had a deep coma until two p.m. the next morning, unable to move, speak or talk, just laying in your head under the blankets, watching some Audrey Hepburn movies running on the TV.
When you for yourself together and felt like standing up, you took a long shower full of bubbles and nicely smelling cosmetics, then you took the rest of the make-up down. Then, with your stomach still being heavy as fuck, you ordered some food from a near pizza shop. Then, again, you fell down the bed, still looking like a piece of trash.
When your phone rang, you picked it up without even looking at the name on the display. You thought that it's the pizza courier.
"I'm sorry man, I can't even walk. Can you go to the third floor, fifth door? On the back of the hall. You can't miss it." - You growled tiredly like a Golum, sounding really tired.
"If you tell me on which address, I will come. Are you expecting someone?" - You heard Steve's voice from the other side. His voice was breathy, so you knew that he's on his daily jog. You couldn't even know ho terrified he actually was because of the answer. You surely were expecting someone. Some man from yesterdays evening. 
His confidence slowly fell down from hundred to zero seriously fast. And you didn't even have to say or do anything for that matter.
"Yeah, queen Liz will be at my place aaaany minute." - You said quietly, but your fingers started to play with the necklace almost immediately. It was perfect and you never wanted to take it off. - "Just the pizza delivery guy. I'm hungry but too lazy to cook. It really made me tired yesterday."
"You were perfect." - He said breathlessly. Your lips curled into a slight smile. Steve was running around Brooklyn park with a perfectly dreamy look on his face. You two were such dorks - "I could not believe my eyes. You were so close and so full of life, so beautiful... Dear lord."
"Steve, you really knew which one am I? Didn't you look after Deena, May or Suzie? Because you surely are not talking about me." - The breath stuck in your breath and your heart was beating faster and faster. You probably had to stand just a few feet from him. He could basically touch you if he wanted to. And you wished that he have even when you knew that Steve wasn't that kind of a man.
"I was looking at you and only you. And what about that solo with your friend? I liked that. That was funny." - Steve smiled. You only heard yourself giggling and squealing. That made the big man a bit worried. He never heard you do those sounds so loudly. But now you had a serious hungover and you were just happy. There was nothing to hide anymore. - "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I am. I perfectly am. Just... You were there, with me, watching us, maybe even singing and clapping, you gave me that beautiful necklace... And..." - You mumbled with the speed of light. You are so sweet. Steve found it nice to find someone so pure and so happy because of such a small thing which was completely natural for him.
"So you liked it?" - Steve stopped and breathed the six miles he just ran. His thighs and ass were slightly burning, that was a sign of a seriously good work out.
"I... I loved it. I will never take it off, I swear!" - You exclaimed. Your head and body hurt, but Steve has woken you up so much, that you have completely forgotten about that. That was just what Steve did to you daily. - "Also, it was you, am I right?"
"I was what?" - He laughed and you heard as he drank something.
"Ten grand out of our twenty-five? You did it, am I right?" - You smiled. Steve was obviously just a really good, real and honest man who cared about local charities. A good heart with a good soul - Steve obviously wasn't the one who would flex on you with his money. He would never.
"Maybe it was me, maybe it was not me. Do not care about that. I and my lads loved it yesterday so we wanted to let you know. Did you get that note?" - Steve asked, his voice tone suddenly changing from playful to hoping. You froze in one place. The note... THE note.
You must've lost it when you were taking the board from Tony Stark himself. Suddenly, you wanted to cry. It must've been something important for him.
"Oh Steve, I'm so sorry..." - You shuttered and sobbed as you were about to cry. What was the note about?
"Hey. Do not be sad, alright? It's not a big deal at all, Y/N. I'll think about something else, just keep your spirits up, sweetheart."
---
Even tho Steve acted like it was a no big deal, it was a huge one for him. He wrote you a short note, in which he was asking you on a serious date. Sam made him do it because he was so curious about your reaction - old school yes or no note with a date and a location. But you have lost it.
Steve wasn't mad, of course, he wasn't. But he has some high hopes for that. He was crazy about you saying yes, to finally meet you, take you out on a dinner and to be just... With you, your beauty and bright mind.
He was calling you throughout his entire jog and as you ate your pizza. In the end, he truly asked for your friend's number, because Bucky was persistent about getting to know that girl.
"I will hang up. I have a meeting with some friends today, but I can call you in the evening, is that alright?" - Steve stopped in front of his apartment door, adjusting the microphone on his earphones as he was searching for his keys.
"I will hopefully survive today. I will miss you, handsome." - You said in a sweet tone and Steve felt as his knees melt a bit. Now he could imagine your face and expression, your big shiny eyes and beautiful lips curling to a smile. And when Steve closed his eyes, the feeling became even more intense. You were perfect for him.
"Tell me about it. Be safe." - Steve basically purred and got into the apartment. Bucky immediately took notice of his lad and he smiled at Steve. His expression was telling so much without him even saying a word.
"I will, bye." - You sighed lightly and hung up.
"I should take a photo of you." - Bucky joked and when he said a word photo, Sam immediately hurried out of bedroom only in his boxers.
"Ma man just saw some boobs, didn't he?" - Sam clapped cheerfully and Steve just waved him off. Sam and boobs - that could've been an idea for a saga. - "Hope you got the number for Mr. I Will Teach About Jesus. He is just fuckin' persistent because of it."
"Got it. But now we should prepare for that big Avengers evening. Tony will be curious about that ten grand I gave to them." - Steve said cheesily with a laugh.
When he was taking another shower and dressing up, two texts were delivered to his phone. One of them was some Deena's number. Steve figured out that that was your friend's name.
The second one was a cute photo of you - your face, messy hair, slight smile and big eyes looking at him. You had a tank top on to show off your new necklace. The smile was definitely the cutest ever. He immediately needed to show Bucky.
"Yeah. She's... She's just perfect, pal. But I'm more interested in the first text." - Bucky winked. Steve couldn't be mad at him. Bucky always had a thing for girls which radiated that bad girl energy, those nasty ones who could kick his ass. And Deena, as you called her, was surely that type who could show men that she is completely on her own. 
---
The next day Deena yelled and ran to you just when tried to open the door to your office with a serious load of muffins.
“You won't believe anything im going to tell you, girl. Shut up and listen!” - She yelled all over the building and caught both your shoulders in an eager grip. 
“Okay. Stop yelling. I'm listening.” - You laughed to her face, and she rolled her eyes. 
“A man from that evening texted me this morning. Like... If I wanna hang out today.” - Deena whispered. Yeah. Steve informed you that James, his friend, is going to contact Deena. You just didn't expect it so soon. You had the thing going on for a few months and yet you havent seen him. But James asked Deena out instantly. Just like that. 
You were the jealous one at the moment. Yet you got a smile out of your lips which made you appear happy.
“That's awesome. Is he handsome?” - You asked curiously and entered the building with her by your side. You tried to be happy for James hitting his chances off immediately, yet you felt like Steve could it as well. Was it a problem in you, in him, in the universe, or where the fuck it was?
“As fuck. Man, if he lets me be my own woman and if he won't do the top between us just because he’s a man, I think I'm gonna see him again.” - Deena told you with a totally wicked smile and you opened your mouth. 
“That sounds like you’ve started with wedding plans. Can I be the grand-mother of your first child?” - You joked around and Deena stopped you with a gentle touch on your shoulder.
“Hey. I know what's this about. You're angry that James is initiative and Steve is just surrounded with mysteries. But... You know... James can be a jackass and I can tell you hes a complete dick tomorrow. But you and Steve have invested a few months of your life into that relationship you two have. You know each other. You call each other every day. I don't know James at all.” - She said in all seriousness. That's why she was your friend. She knew what was wrong without you even wanted her to. You hugged her tightly because she raised confidence inside of you.
“If James would act like a dick, I will say Steve to beat him the fuck up.” - You promised solemnly with your hand on your heart and entered the office. 
And so Deena and James started dating. And yet you felt like you and Steve were the first ones even if you haven’t seen each other.
54 notes ¡ View notes
mitsuya-takashi ¡ 5 years ago
Text
“Special Place”-Taekook
This is the second one shot I’ve written, no judgment, please! This is basically a little “how they got together” story for Taekook, so it’ll be a bit shorter than the Yoonmin one I posted.
Also, shoutout to @handcuffsandneuroscience​ for reading this over for me and helping me improve it!
TAEHYUNG      He didn’t mean to forget his umbrella. But he was already running late, and he had left it buried deep in a bin that he didn’t have time to sort through this morning. Taehyung thought he was in the clear when he left class, but as he was halfway to the studio to practice with Jimin, the rain came down hard. It was sudden, the pale gray day becoming dark and chaotic, exactly the weather Taehyung was not prepared for. At all.
     He looked around frantically to find a place to go for refuge and noticed a small business nearby, the lettering on the front reading “Special Place”. He ran inside, shuddering from the chill that bit through his drenched clothing. As he raised his ducked head, the first thing he saw was a display of cupcakes, fluffy and round. Ah, so this is a bakery. He thought. I guess I’ll buy something then. Taehyung turned to the counter to order but stopped when he saw the worker on duty.
     The man was currently helping someone, an adorable bunny-like smile on his face as he handed the customer their pastry. He had dark, fluffy hair that Taehyung for some reason really wanted to run his fingers through, and his nose was something that could only be described as “really cute” as it scrunched with his smile. The beauty of this stranger distracted Taehyung for a moment, but he was able to get over himself and walk up to the counter.
     “Hello! Welcome to Special Place Bakery! What can I get for you today?” Taehyung was immediately mesmerized by his voice, having to pause for a second before he answered.
     “Uhm...yeah. I’d like one of those, please?” He said, pointing to the display he saw earlier.
     “Alright, that’ll be $2.00.” Taehyung shifted to grab his wallet and gave the worker his money, noticing that his name tag read “Jeongguk”. Jeongguk handed him the cupcake with a smile, saying “Here you go! Come back here any time!”
     Taehyung simply nodded and turned away, sitting down at one of the tables scattered throughout the area. He pulled out his phone, texting Jimin to tell him why he’ll be late (again).
Tae: i’ll be a bit late to practice today :(
Chim: Taeee! Why this time?
Tae: it’s raining rlly rlly hard and I don’t have my umbrella so i'm waiting in a bakery
Tae: buuuut anyways there’s a guy working here and he’s,,,rlly hot
Tae: like,,,,rlly
Chim: W o w
Chim: Yoongi’s the only one who really cares for me :(
Tae: he’s ur bf, he has to
Chim: Woowww I’m hurt
Tae: i’ll leave when the rain stops
Chim: OK, see you when you get here <3
Tae: yup <3
     He set his phone down to eat his untouched cupcake, every so often sneaking glances at Jeongguk. After he finished, he made sure that the rain had stopped and left, remembering to visit the cute bakery (and the even cuter worker) again sometime soon.
JEONGGUK      Jeongguk was officially intrigued. The first time the mystery man came in the bakery, he was completely drenched from the rain outside. His dark locks stuck to his forehead in a way that should be illegal. His clothes were soaked, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Even then, Jeongguk took a mild interest in him. It isn’t often they get a new customer, being a small business and all, but one who’s that good looking? That was almost unheard of in the tiny bakery. So when the man kept coming back, Jeongguk got more and more interested.
     He started coming in at kind of regular intervals, most times alone, sometimes with a shorter boy with bubblegum pink hair. When Jeongguk’s best friend and coworker, Hoseok, told the managers of Special Place, Seokjin and Namjoon, about the other boy’s infatuation, the three of them made it a point to keep Jeongguk on duty whenever the mystery man came by, thoroughly enjoying meddling in his love life. Today was the second time that week he stopped in, three weeks after he first discovered it.
     As Jeongguk heard the telltale bell ring, he looked up to see the cheerful face, calling a ”Hello again!” to the man he had become oh so accustomed to seeing. He smiled and walked over to the counter, winking as he made eye contact with Jeongguk.
     “I’ll have the usual.” Came the man’s deep voice. It always melted him; the mysterious male had a voice that Jeongguk had only been hearing for a few weeks now but one he doubted he could live without.
     “Coming right up!” came Jeongguk’s usual reply. Jeongguk handed the man his cupcake as he paid but gently grabbed his arm before he could make his way to the seats. “Wait!” Jeongguk said. The man looked at him curiously.
     “Yeah? What is it?” That voice again, damn. Get it together, Jeongguk. You still don’t even know him.
     “I wanted to ask your name? You’ve been coming here pretty often, but I still don’t know it, and I feel bad calling you ‘Sir.’” The man looked surprised at this as if he didn’t realize he never told the man what to call him.
     “My name is Taehyung.” Beautiful face, beautiful name, Jeongguk thought.
     “Well hi, Taehyung-ssi. My name is Jeongguk.”
     “I already knew your name,” Taehyung laughed. “It’s on your name tag.”
     “Oh, oops,” Jeongguk responded, red in the face. “Well, anyway, it’s nice to formally meet you.” He said, sticking out his hand. Taehyung smiled and took it in his own, shaking it firmly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but notice how their hands fit together nicely, wondering what actually holding his hand would be like. He quickly shook that thought off, though, and let go of Taehyung. The man’s face morphed into a slightly conflicted look as if he was debating something with himself.
     “Since we, you know, know each other now, would you be willing to give me your number?” Taehyung said suddenly.
     “Yeah, sure. What for?” Jeongguk said while getting out his phone, flustered at the unexpected question.
     Taehyung looked hesitant. “Oh, uh...I just... maybe wanted to be friends?” Jeongguk was surprised. He was acquainted with most of the customers, but they never became “official friends”. He beamed at the idea and exchanged phones with Taehyung, typing in his number before handing it back to him.
     “So...friends?” Jeongguk asked shyly, still smiling.
     “Yeah. Friends.”
TAEHYUNG      Ever since they had exchanged numbers, Taehyung and Jeongguk were texting every day. They had grown inevitably closer, their bond developing more and more as the weeks went by. Originally, it was just making small talk and getting to know one another with little things like 20 Questions and Never Have I Ever. Now, however, their conversations have evolved, and so have Taehyung’s feelings. Two months of non-stop contact, staying up talking until 3 AM, and visits to the bakery every Tuesday and Friday have created a special connection between the two, one that Taehyung didn’t have with anyone else (Well, there was his platonic soulmate, Jimin, but that was different).
     Needless to say, Taehyung enjoyed every moment with Jeongguk and wanted to take it a step farther. He made a plan to ask out the other during his next trip to the bakery. He was unsure how the younger would react but unwilling to back down until he got an answer.
~~~
     That Tuesday, Taehyung walked up to the counter of the conveniently empty store, fidgeting nervously.
     “Hyung!” Jeongguk beamed at him. “How was your cupcake?” Taehyung smiled fondly at the younger, admiring his energy.
     “It was amazing, Gguk, as they always are.”
     “Great! So, was there anything specific you wanted to talk about?”
     This is it. Taehyung thought. This, right now. I’m gonna ask him out. I’m gonna do it. I am going t-
     “Hyung?” Jeongguk unknowingly interrupted the other’s train of thought with one word, one word that snapped Taehyung back to reality.
     “Oh, yeah.” said a startled Taehyung. “I was actually wondering if...you’d wanna go out with me sometime?” he finished, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he asked.
     “Oh. Oh.” Jeongguk said, caught off guard.
     Taehyung became more uncertain, not wanting to make Jeongguk uncomfortable. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. It doesn’t have to be a date, we can just grab some food sometime this weekend?”
     Jeongguk shook his head. “No...I think it would be better as a date. If that’s ok with you, of course?”
     Taehyung laughed, gaining his confidence back. “A date then. Does this Saturday work for you?”
     Jeongguk looked elated at the idea, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Yup. Saturday definitely works.”
     “Great. I’ll text you the time and place later on.” said Taehyung. 
     Jeongguk smiled that adorable smile that Taehyung found so fascinating even on the first day they met. “Perfect.”
     Taehyung walked over to the door smiling but turned around before leaving and winked at Jeongguk.
     “I guess this really is a Special Place. Maybe, from now on, it can be our Special Place.”
     Taehyung didn’t know it yet, but that simple phrase would be the catalyst for a new relationship that would eventually turn into something beautifully unbreakable, admired especially by those who got to see them grow old together.
END.
23 notes ¡ View notes
turtle-steverogers ¡ 6 years ago
Text
Chaotic Neutral
ok so i was gonna write literal angst but then saph and i got on a tangent and this was born so take this Fruity Pebbles+Walgreens crack hybrid
warnings: stab wounds
ship: ralbert
editing: no
“Can you drive me to Walgreens?” Albert asked as he walked out of his room, looking slightly disheveled as he walked out of his and Race’s shared bedroom.  
Race glanced up from his place at the kitchen counter, chewing absentmindedly on the eraser of his pencil, “Why?”
Albert shrugged, padding over in his fuzzy socks to lean across the counter, blocking Race from his physics homework, “We’re outta fruity pebbles.”
Race rolled his eyes, “Planning to get high soon?”
Albert shook his head, “No, but I’m thinking of it right now, so I wanna get ‘em while they’re on my mind, ‘cause I’ll forget otherwise,” He paused for a moment, lost in memory, “And you remember what happened the last time I didn’t have fruity pebbles when the munchies hit.”
A dark look washed over Race’s face, “Oh, I remember alright,” he rubbed his elbow subconsciously, “I still have the scar.”
Albert clicked his tongue, “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.  Anyway, can ya bring me?”
“Sorry, babe,” Race said, shoving Albert off his textbook, “I gotta finish this, but feel free to take my keys if you wanna just take yourself.”
Albert pouted for a moment, “Fine, but it’s no fun without you.”
Race didn’t grace him with pity as he focused back in on his assignment, “Suffer.”
Albert huffed again, “Ugh, okay, I’ll be back.”
“Pick me up some lactaid,” Race called as Albert shoved his socked feet into a pair of Race’s slides.
“Yep,” Albert shouted over his shoulder as he left the apartment, making his way down to Race’s car.  
What should have been a ten minute ride turned into twenty five minutes due to traffic, but eventually Albert arrived at the Walgreens off campus.  He trudged inside, hyper aware of the fact that he looked like some sort of college student-hobo hybrid with his bright red fuzzy socks and slightly-too-small sweatshirt.  
He scanned the cereal aisles, letting out a quiet, ‘aha’, as he located the fruity pebbles, taking several off of the shelf to stock up.  Frantic whispers from the aisle beside him piqued his curiosity and he shifted closer in order to listen.  He couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but in his peripheral, he could see two rather burly men huddled against the wall, shoving armfuls of varying items into one of their backpacks.  Blanching as he realized what was happening, Albert considered his options.  He could casually slip out of the aisle and pretend he never saw anything, or-
“Hey,” He heard himself bark, instantly regretting his decision as the two men’s heads whipped up, fury and confusion glinting in their eyes, “What do you think you’re doing?” Albert bit his tongue, willing himself to shut up as the guys processed his words.
Albert took an involuntary step back as one of the two men crossed over to him, “You didn’t see nothin’, princess,” He snarled, the smell of cigarettes hot on his breath, “Move it along and no one gets hurt.”
Albert couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat, “Wow, real threatening,” he drawled, “I feel so threatened right now.  C’mon, shoplifting a Walgreens?  Seriously?  I mean-”
He cut himself off with a gasp as he felt a sharp, almost nauseating pain grip his gut.  He looked down, open-mouthed in shock as he watched the knife the guy had stabbed into him leave his body.  
A wave of dizziness washed over him as his knees buckled and he managed weakly, “There are security cameras, you know.”
The men exchanged alarmed glances, before stumbling around each other to grab the backpack.
“Yeah, bet you didn’t think of that,” Albert managed around the ever growing pain in his abdomen, “Dummies.” he added for good measure.
The men ran out of the aisle, only to be stopped by one of the employees, who must have heard the commotion.  Or seen Albert get stabbed on the security footage.  Albert didn’t have the energy to question which.  He rested his head on the shelf behind him, closing his eyes briefly, before standing up.
“Sir, I don’t think-” He hadn’t even noticed the other store clerk, hovering worriedly near him.  
He waved a hand, cutting her off, “S’fine,” he mumbled, “I’ll be chill.”
“An ambulance is on its way-”
“Where’s your first aid aisle?” Albert asked, pitching to the side slightly.
The clerk raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me?”
“You’re first aid stuff, like, band-aids and shit.”
“Sir, I-”
“Ma’am, please,” Albert groaned, “This ain’t my first rodeo, I’m fine, just tell me where the goddamn bandages are.”
The clerk looked taken aback, but she pointed to an aisle diagonal from the one they were in nonetheless, “Uh, that one.”
“Thanks,” Albert mumbled, turning and staggering towards the first aid materials.  He blearily squinted at the shelves, haphazardly plucking a few bandage packs, as well as some gauze pads from the wall.  He grabbed a bottle of antiseptic from one of the higher shelves, then sat himself down on the carpeted floor and lifted his shirt, working with shaky hands to inspect the stab wound.  It was fairly deep considering and blood was flowing out weakly with each beat of his heart.  If he were in a better state, he probably would have been freaked out by the image.  Instead, he clumsily tore off a chunk of his already ripped t-shirt and soaked it in some of the antiseptic.
He gingerly pressed the cloth to the wound, hissing in pain as the alcohol sent a stinging jolt through his body, making his head light.  
Diligently, he cleaned away the blood, then dressed the wound using gauze and bandages, wrapping tightly to ensure the blood would clot.  After taking a few steadying breaths, he stood up and pulled a crumpled twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, crossing back over to the store clerk who had been watching him in awed horror.  
He handed her the twenty, then stooped down to pick up one of the fallen boxes of fruity pebbles, “Hope that covers everything I used,” he slurred, “Take care.”
He could hear various sirens outside and decided to slip out the side door to avoid any paramedics who might see him in his bloodied state.  He hailed a cab, ignoring the frightened stare of the driver as he rattled off his and Race’s address.  He zoned out during the ride, only realizing they had arrived when the driver called back to him, demanding his payment.  Albert tipped a little extra after discovering the blood stain he’d left on the seat, then made his way up to the apartment.  
Realizing belatedly that he’d left his apartment key in Race’s car, which was still in the Walgreens parking lot, he knocked weakly on the door.
Race appeared a moment later, eyes widening as he looked over his boyfriend, “Albert, what the fuck.”
“I got m’fruity pebbles,” Albert said, smiling.  
Race shook his head, dumbfounded, “What the hell happened to you- fuck.” He grunted as Albert jerked forward, collapsing unceremoniously into Race’s arms.  Race grimaced, hoisting Albert’s arm around his shoulder and leading him to the couch, carefully laying him down the length of the cushions.
Albert leaned to the side, the pain finally catching up to him as he gagged, vomit forcing its way up his throat.  Race stepped back as Albert threw up onto the ground, blood intermixing with his sick.
“Albert, Jesus,” Race murmured, worry creasing his eyebrows.
“S’fine,” Albert croaked, gesturing to the bandage around his stomach, “I handled it.”
“Clearly not,” Race said, voice cracking as he frantically waved his hand towards the bloody vomit, “What happened?  Actually, nevermind, I don’t wanna know until we get you fixed up.”
“I am fixed up.”
“Properly fixed up, you dumbass ginger fool.”
“Race, Racer,” Albert reached out a hand, latching onto Race’s pant leg.
Race bent down, carding a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, “Yes, love?”
“Are there munchies in heaven, do you think?”
Race blinked, “My god, you’re an idiot.  Hospital time, let’s go.”
XXX
“So, let me get this straight,” Race leaned back in the crappy plastic chair he was sitting in, studying Albert as he lay in a hospital bed, finally stable, “You saw some guys shoplifting, so you called them out, then challenged them, then got stabbed, then sassed some poor store clerk, then fucking yeeted over to the first aid aisle, tried to treat yourself, then dipped before an ambulance could get to you?”
Albert bit his lip, “Uh, yeah, basically.”
“Jesus Christ, Albert, you coulda gotten yourself legitimately killed.  I mean, good on you for stopping a robbery, but next time an ambulance is called for you, fucking take up that offer, okay?”
Albert groaned, slumping down into his pillows, “But I was fine, Racer!”
“No, you weren’t!  You needed a blood transfusion, Albert!”  Race closed his eyes, emotion rising in his throat, “Listen, it was really fucking scary seeing you bleeding out on our couch and I really don’t know what I’d do if you were to like, literally die or something, so for the love of god, use your singular fucking brain cell and take care of yourself next time, okay?”
Albert softened, guilt spreading through his body, “Okay, I’m sorry.”
Race stood, walking over to Albert and leaning down to hug him, “It’s okay, I just worry.”
“I know you do,”  Albert said, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, “I appreciate your care.”
“I love you, bitchass, you know that?”
“I do,” Albert smiled, “I love you, too,” a pause, “Race, you didn’t happen to bring-”
“Planned ahead,” Race said, pulling the box of fruity pebbles from under his chair.
“I fucking stan you so hard what the fuck.”
“I...stan you, too?”
“You better,” Albert said through a mouth of cereal, “I’m wonderful.”
“Uh huh, sure.”
-
jfc someone literally tell me how al is still alive at this point
thanks for reading, chiefs
hmu to be added to my tag
TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable
@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @thatpoorguysheadisspinning @spec-s-pecs
@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes 
@have-we-got-news-for-you
@musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic
@thomasbeingthomas
@irondad-spiderson-duo
@snakesarenonexistent
@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing
@kpop-kk
@mentallytiredgoat
@yxseminx
@be-more-chill-evan-hansen
@stopthe-presses
@elmers-half-a-cup
@and-i-lostmy-shoe
@spot-me50-papes
@honeynutpoptarts
@newsies-ensemble
@bennie-badeend
86 notes ¡ View notes
thephantomofthe-internet ¡ 6 years ago
Text
Ebrius (Eros p.t. 9)
Billy Hargrove x Reader, Jonathan Byers x Reader (Unrequited)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16
Word Count: 5043
Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, sexuality? idk on that one
Permanent Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @steveharringtonofficial @denimjacketkisses @flamehairedwritings @hargroovin
Series Tag: @hargrovesgoldilocks @xicarcalii @wtf-richarddd @sighsophiia @baebee35 @ijustwantahugfromtennant @rhyxn @wearemightyghosts @toriasaysso @random-stupid-stuffs @so-not-hotmess @warsintothestars @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @angellastor @swangobsessed
Feedback Appreciated!
One the eve of Valerie’s epic bash, the whole school was aflutter with excitement, building a chaotic energy you’d never really felt apart of until now. Now, you felt what everyone else was feeling. And you weren’t into it.
Sure, it was kind of exciting-you weren’t usually personally invited to these sorts of things, and Valerie was making sure you felt as included as possible, especially when Billy was around. But it was also kind of tiring, the whole thing was looking to be a social nightmare and Valerie was hyping it up to be full on rager, which only made you nervous rather than excited.
“So anyway, here’s what I’m thinking-you come over to my place around four tomorrow, bring all your stuff, and we’ll make you into a glamour queen, alright?” Valerie asked that lunch, leaning over the table on her elbows, her legs pulled under her.
“Um sure, if that’s what you want.” You replied, fiddling with your baby carrots.
“And you,” she turned to Billy “You better show up on time, I don’t want you up showing me at my own party, you’ll make your entrance with me, alright?” she instructed, jabbing a finger into his chest.
Billy smirked, slinking an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly to him, looking down at her with a passion so bright and hot it could rival the sun. “Whatever you say baby…” he muttered, grabbing her by the chin and pulling her lips roughly to his. He looked desperate and needy, which made perfect sense seeing as how she’d been skirting his advances for weeks.
Billy had confided in you that it went beyond lunch periods. According to him, she’d been ignoring his calls and cancelling plans for weeks, meaning he hadn’t gotten any except from his right hand, which was nowhere near as good as it would be from Valerie. He was tense and irritable, which made him a nuisance to be around. But Valerie softened him, even when she wasn’t putting out.
“Bill!” she cried “You’re gonna mess up my lipstick!” Billy rolled his eyes, turning his attention to her bare neck, peppering it with kisses and bites until she pushed him off with a scoff and an eye roll, looking to you as though you’d understand. You put a spoonful of yogurt into your mouth, making a face that felt like it agreed with hers.
Billy turned back to you, grumbling to himself under his breath about being bored. You let your eyes wander, around the room and they landed on a tiny boy who was staring at you. He was a junior, skinny and pale and hopelessly gawking. At first you were flattered, you smiled, raising your eyebrows at him. But he didn’t react at all. It took a moment to realize that he wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at Valerie. And Valerie was staring back, equally awestruck and shy.
He was looking at Valerie. And Valerie was looking back. This could be a recipe for trouble.
On Friday afternoon, right after lunch, Valerie dragged you out of the cafeteria by the arm, her nails digging into your arm so hard you swore it would bruise you, and out to your car.
“You brought your stuff, right?” she asked, pulling open your side door and climbing in.
“No, I didn’t think I’d be leaving now, I thought I was meeting you at your place later.” You replied, following suit.
“Well I decided that we’d need more time. Stop at your place on the way.” Valerie replied shortly, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyed.
“Where do you live?” you asked nervously. You knew Valerie was rich, her dad was like a high powered lawyer and her mother was the youngest, most babied of a rich family. If your instincts were right, you and she lived in different subsections of Hawkins.
“1545 Autumn Road, why?” she replied. You sighed; your instincts were very correct.
“You and I live in opposite directions, I live up near Billy.” You replied.
Valerie’s eyes narrowed “I don’t know where that is, I’ve never been to his place.” She said.
“Oh, well I live up near Melvald’s, so we’ll have to head up that way first, is that alright?” you asked.
Valerie nodded, examining her nails “Sure, I have to pick up an order there anyway, we’ll stop in after you get your stuff, alright?” she said. You nodded, turning on the ignition and backing out of the full parking lot.
Bringing Valerie to your house was nerve wracking. You hadn’t had anyone over since your mom first got sick. Now, not only did you have someone stopping at your house, she didn’t know what was happening. You drove slowly, abiding all the laws you’d usually ignore. You could tell Valerie was more than a little annoyed, but she didn’t say anything.
When you pulled into your driveway, the embarrassment hit you like a flour bomb in the face. The planters your father had insisted would help your mother get out of the house, which had failed spectacularly and been abandoned on the front porch. The lawn was uncut and brown, mainly because you hadn’t done it and nobody else would. The American flag hanging over the garage was tattered on the end, dirty, and faded. You looked dirty and trashy. Still, you took a breath and held your head high, turning to Valerie “I’ll just be a second, alright?”
She unbuckled her seatbelt, smiling sweetly “I’ll come in, if you don’t mind.” She replied, opening her door, not waiting for an answer.
You sighed, following her quickly. You hoped your mother was asleep or otherwise distracted. You unlocked the door, stepping over the threshold into the dark, suddenly infinitely more dusty entry way.
“I’ll just head upstairs, make yourself at home.” You said, rushing up the stairs and into your room.
“Y/N? Is that you?” a weak voice called. Your mother was peeking out of her room, still clad in her floral housedress, dirty from not being changed in days.
“Yeah mom, just grabbing some stuff!” you called back, grabbing the untouched bags and shoving them onto your wrists, nearly tripping over the pile of books in the corner by your closet, cursing your lack of space. “I’m, ugh, going out tonight, I won’t be home till late, okay? Tell dad not to worry.”
“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N!” Valerie called from downstairs, her voice sickeningly polite. And you swore you heard her gasp, which made your heart drop. You burst out of your room as you saw your mother inch down the stairs, running her fingers through her grey streaked, uncombed hair.
“Hello? Did I hear someone down here?” she asked, her voice finding a cheery, false tone.
Valerie turned, placing the chipped, dusty bird figurine back into the ring of clean table it occupied, covering it. “Oh hello, I’m Valerie you must be Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s lovely to meet you.” She said with a fake smile.
It was like watching a car crash. Your mother was five seconds from disassociating or bursting into tears and Valerie was already taking notes on how to destroy you if she needed to.
“Oh, please call me Marie, all of Y/N’s friends do. I haven’t heard of you before, you must be new.” She replied, reaching out a pale, shaky hand to shake hers.
“Well yeah, I’m Billy’s girlfriend.” She replied, taking hers and shaking it roughly.
“Who?” your mother asked, turning to you, growing more and more embarrassed by the moment.
You stepped onto the step above hers, placing a hand on her shoulders, squeezing it reassuringly “Remember, Billy ma? I mentioned him last night, he’s my buddy from history class.” You said, smiling softly.
“Oh, right…yes I remember…” she said vaguely.
“Can I borrow your gold hoops?” you asked, already leading her upstairs. She nodded again and you turned to Valerie, holding up your index finger, mouthing ‘one minute’.
You led her into her room and to her bed, opening up the ruffled sheets and allowing her to get in again, warm tears flowing down her face.
“You did really good, mama…” you whispered, pulling the blankets up again.
“You’re embarrassed of me…” she muttered, looking up with you angry eyes.
“No, I’m not, mom. I love you and I want you to meet my friends, but not when you’re not ready, when you don’t know it’s happening.” You replied firmly, grabbing the remote and flicking the channel off of Soap and onto the news.
“You’re ashamed of me…you hate me…” you mother mumbled.
“I don’t hate you, I love you mom, I honestly do.” You said, kissing your forehead “You know I love you. I have to go, but you should call daddy, maybe he can come home and sit with you for awhile, would you like that?”
She nodded vaguely and you rushed to pick up the phone, dialling the number you knew off by heart. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?” he asked nervously when the call was patched over to him.
“Hi dad, how’s work?” you asked, smiling at your mother.
“What’s going on, why are you home?” he asked nervously.
“Oh, I just stopped in, nothing major.” You replied, turning away to mumble into the receiver “I think we might have a situation here, I have to go back to school, can you come home, make sure she stays okay.”
“Yes, of course, I’ll be there in five.” He said.
“Okay, should I stay or…” you asked.
“No, no, head back, don’t miss class.” He said. You nodded, saying quick goodbyes and kissing your mother on the forehead again, promising that your father was on his way. You ran down the stairs, grabbing Valerie by the arm and pulling her out the door.
“Is she alright?” Valerie asked.
“Fine.” You snapped pulling open the door and turning on the ignition, backing out quickly, causing Valerie’s body to slap the back of the seat. You arrived at Melvald’s in less than five minutes.
“Wait here.” She said and you didn’t push to follow behind, you much preferred the silence. You felt your body decompress, stress oozing from your pores. She returned a few moments later, but by then you were back to functioning, worry playing like static in the very back of your mind. You drove normally to Valerie’s house, returning to your normal state again.
Valerie’s house was huge, a near mansion with fake marble and too much white to feel appropriate for a crazy high school party. Valerie led you upstairs to her room, a giant space painted light purple and coated in posters and art. She had a giant, plush mattress and a big vanity fit for a Broadway theatre, complete with the big white blubs as its border. You dropped your bags on her bed and she put hers on the vanity, pulling out its contents.
The box of at-home perm made your skin crawl.
“Okay, so the first thing we’re gonna do is perm your hair.” Valerie said, grabbing the box and heading towards the bathroom attached to her room.
“Oh ugh I don’t know…” you replied, your feet sticking to the floor as though it was flypaper.
“If you hate it, a shower will destroy it. Let’s just try, okay?” she said comfortingly and you nodded, swallowing your fear and walking in, sitting in the chair she’d set up for you.
The process took over an hour. First, your hair was soaked and dried a bit before being combed out. Then, she rolled your hair into wide rollers, securing them on your head. Then your hair was coated in perm solution, which stunk like chemicals and burned your nose. You felt the headache forming the second the tight rollers were secured in your hair and the smell only made it worse. It didn’t help that Valerie had started talking once you sat down and hadn’t stopped.
When it was finally time, she forced your head under the shower head, rinsing it for three minutes. She dried it with the hair dyer and then applied the neutralizer, which had to sit for ten minutes and smelt vaguely like coconuts. Then again under the shower head, dried, and the rods were removed.
And when it was all done, you looked like Shirley fucking Temple.
You sighed “See? I look awful…”
Valerie rolled her eyes “We’re not gonna leave it this way, duh!” she said. You looked up at her with a quirked brow, making her eyes widen “You didn’t know that?” she shook your head, making her gasp. “Oh my God! I can totally teach you how to make this look hot! Let’s give it a bit of time to relax, you can help me get the this place safe for a party, Jodie and Carol are coming over to set up later, but we need to move all the breakable shit before they get here.
And so you spent the afternoon hiding expensive vases and paintings that could be easily splashed or knocked down. You rolled up the white rugs and locked away the fine china. When you were finished, the house looked ready to party and you felt a tiny bit sweaty.
Valerie pulled you back into her room, and after much digging through bags and her closet, she pulled a clean white tank top from her closet and the tiny, pleated yellow skirt from your bags. She covered you in a robe and pulled you back into the bathroom.
“Okay, so nobody wear’s a perm the way in comes out naturally, we always style them. So what you’re gonna do is take a round brush or a teasing comb and tease the curls out to make them bigger, then spray it with hairspray to hold it. I like the Farrah Fawcett spray, because it adds and holds volume, but you can find whatever you like once you figure out what works for you.” She explained, making your curls into big, ratty waves that framed your face and made you look like an extra in a Madonna video. But you liked it. It made you feel older and more mature, like you were actually pretty.
“I taught Steve Harrington the same thing when he grew out his hair, he owes his flawless hair to me.” Valerie said cockily and you giggled at the idea of King Steve in your place, nervous and awkward and not nearly as handsome as he wanted to be.
“Alright and we’re done! You look better already, Y/N.” she said and you found yourself nodding along with her. It was almost seven now and while you hadn’t eaten yet, you found that you weren’t hungry. You were excited, which was a rarity for these types of parties.
“Let’s paint your face.” She said, leading you back out into her bedroom and sitting down at her vanity.
Of course, she did her own face first, leaving you to sit bored on her bed. So now you were sitting in Vicki’s pastel purple bedroom on her memory foam bed, watching her at her vanity mirror, the bed white theatrical bulbs that surrounded the mirror casting harsh light on your face as she painted on her bright makeup, smirking at her reflection.
“So what are we gonna do to your face, Y/N?” she asked, brushing sharp angles on blush on her cheeks.
“Oh I don’t know, something simple. I don’t think I could ever rock the colours you do.” You replied smoothly, watching her puff up like a peacock. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that she looked like wild parrot instead of the Cyndi Lauper inspired makeup she was going for.
“Oh come on! Live a little! I promise I’ll try to tone it down a bit for you, can we compromise to that?” she asked, pursing her lips to apply rich purple lipstick.
You sighed “Alright, but I demand a veto in case I hate it.” You agreed and Valerie squealed, pulling you into the chair and turning it to hide you from the mirror. She spent another hour painted you into some sort of beauty queen and by the time she was done, Billy was knocking on the door, Jodie and Carol making a ruckus in the downstairs area.
“You decent?” Billy called, bounding up the stairs.
Valerie chuckled “We’re covered up if that’s what you mean.” She replied. Billy pushed the door open, and as usual your heart skipped a beat, your eyes involuntarily flicked to the closed door.
“Now don’t look into the mirror until I say so, okay, I want it to be a surprise.” She whispered as Billy knocked on the door. Valerie opened it quickly, revealing herself and opening her arms, pulling him to her and allowing him to thoroughly mess up her lipstick.
“Happy birthday baby.” He whispered against her lips and she smirked, covering his eyes with her tiny hand “What’re you doing, babe?” he muttered, a smirk spreading across his face.
She led him forward, gesturing you to stand up straighter and when he was in position, she screamed “Ta dah!”, pulling her hand off his eyes and revealed your dolled up self. After hours of Valerie poking and prodding you, you’d transformed into a new person from the top of your perm to your sparkly pointed heels.
Billy didn’t like it.
His stare burned into you as he looked you over, trying to decipher what exactly made him cringe so much. It wasn’t that you looked bad, you always looked pretty and Valerie certainly didn’t make you look bad, but it looked off. It was as though he was staring into the uncanny valley-everything was technically right but something was off and it made it all look wrong. Then, it hit him. You looked like Valerie. She’d painted you into her twin.
“What, is it that bad?” you asked awkwardly, your smile slipping just a little.
“You look good, kid.” He said gruffly , slapping your shoulder. You stumbled just a little, unsure how to react.
“Thanks…” you muttered, stepping forward to finally look at yourself.
You looked…wrong. No wonder why Billy looked so startled by you. Caked in colours and draped in skimpy fabrics, you felt different. But, despite Billy’s reaction, it felt good, even right. You liked the way it looked, you felt more adult and certainly prettier than normal. You wouldn’t do it every day, but a night like tonight it felt fitting.
Valerie’s mood dropped significantly, watching you two shuffle about. You looked shakily confident, like a deer taking its first steps. You were an innocent, painted into someone’s personal Lolita, desperate for some acknowledgement. But Billy looked sick to his stomach looking at you. It was as though his world was flipped upside down.
He looked to Valerie, his eyes training over her, but he didn’t feel the same burning, unstoppable lust. He felt empty, hollow inside. His brain started to run wild, filled with intrusive thoughts. Suddenly, Valerie seemed less wonderful, less rare.  He started to question if Valerie really was special. But that was crazy-Billy loved Valerie. He loved her. Sure, he hadn’t told her yet, but he planned to. All of this was just caused by his never ending horniness, which Valerie hadn’t been helping much with.
“You did a great job, babe.” Billy said, kissing her on the cheek, an arm slinking around her bare mid-drift. “You finally made Y/N look like a girl.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes, trying to muffle a tiny smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. Billy was happy, he like the way you looked, he wasn’t horrified by the change that you were still getting used to. Billy was the only person you were trying to impress and you’d succeeded.
“Oh hush, Bill, you’re gonna hurt her feelings.” Valerie groaned, turning to you “You look incredible, Y/N, Byers will finally realize what he missed out on when he sees you.”
“Freak Byers is coming tonight?” Billy growled.
“Probably, Nancy Wheeler is gonna be here, Luce told me that her and Stacy were talking about it in calc.” Valerie replied easily.
“Y/N, stay away from him, alright? He’s only gonna fuck with your head and you deserve better.” He snapped, pointing at you.
You rolled you eyes “Val, you should’ve never taken him to see Sixteen Candles, now he thinks I’m some desperate, clingy crazy loser played by Molly Ringwald.” You chuckled, earning a laugh from her and a scoff from Billy, who refused to look at you. “I’m fine, okay? I’m over him, I’m happy for Nance, and I won’t be talking to him if he shows tonight, which is highly unlikely. According to Nancy, his baby brother’s sick. I doubt he’d come to this when he could be there with him.”
Billy had zoned out, but when you stopped talking he nodded, shoving a cigarette in his mouth. Valerie snatched it from his lips, pocketing it. “No smoking in my room! You know that!” she exclaimed. Billy rolled his eyes, heading for the door.
“We should head down there, this shit’s about to start.” Valerie said with a sigh, leading you out of the room. Carol and Jodie had started the music and found the liquor.
Upon seeing you, both Carol and Jodie seemed utterly shocked by your new look. They seemed almost proud of you, finally finding your footing after years of being an ugly duckling. Now, you were a swan.
It almost felt nice.
By ten thirty, the whole house was blasting. Teenagers were crawling everywhere, inebriated and sloppy. The giant living was filled with people dancing to whatever pop hits Carol had decided suited the event. There were plastic cups and spilled drinks everywhere, the floor was horribly sticking. Every corner was filled with people drunkenly making out and groping one another. You felt oddly alone.
You’d noticed the other sore thumbs. Tina Presley, the usual centre of attention, was playing wallflower, watching the crowds with sad eyes, her crush of the week, Anthony Michaels, was dancing with Lucy Pierce instead of her. Carol and Tommy had gotten into one of their epic fights, because Tommy was tonguing Amanda Pearson and got caught. Steve Harrington had shown up, his face broken up with cuts and bruises, both eyes ringed with deep purple and blue. He looked to be mostly having fun, drinking heavily and grinding on Vicki Matthews like it was his job. He seemed to have lost the last bits of his inhibitions, trying to drink away some memory and nearly getting into a scuffle with Billy upon running into one another. He looked broken, but trying to overcompensate with easy fun. If you two actually tolerated one another, you would’ve gone over to check on him.
You’d spent most of the night thus far dancing like you actually knew how. Your proverbial dance card had been full all night, being grabbed by different girls to giggle and jump around and finding different boys junk pressed against your front or behind. It was fun, you felt wanted which was an odd, exhilarating feeling that rushed through your veins and filled you with adrenaline.
You’d been watching Nancy subtly out of the corner of your eye, mainly because Stacy wasn’t. She, just like Steve, had decided to drink herself into a stupor and now was fighting with Jonathan, who was distressingly sober, and he wasn’t fighting back.
Suddenly, Nancy pushed away from Jonathan, breaking through the crowd and grabbing Steve by the face, kissing him like his life depended on it. He seemed shocked, hell you felt shocked. But as Steve kissed her back, Jonathan just sighed, turning away from her.
And you found yourself following behind him.
“Jonathan! Wait up!” you called, causing his to look back just for a moment, his sadness breaking apart his face as you caught up to him and brought him outside, sitting with him on the front porch.
“Y/N…” Jonathan muttered, looking away from you, his gaze dropping to his hands, folded in his lap.
“What the fuck was that?” you muttered breathlessly “I thought they broke up, I thought you two…”
“So did I…” he replied. “I think she is just afraid of change, I mean it’s been a lot for her, after all of this semester has been rough on us.”
“That’s not an excuse…” you replied “Look, Nancy told me that your brother is sick, if that means that Nancy needs to cheat on you to cope, then she’s not a good person.”
“Steve…must be comforting to her or something…” he replied, shaking his head.
You leaned in, taking his hand in yours. “You don’t have to make excuses for her.” You told him. He finally looked at you, nodding softly. You held his gaze for a moment and you swore you saw a flash in his eyes. You’d heard Steve call it ‘the electricity’, but all you felt was an odd emptiness. His eyes flicked to your lips and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Before you could really react, his lips were on yours.
It was a lot softer than kissing Billy, definitely more tentative. You didn’t have much experience in the field, but this was definitely nice. A bit dull, but as you moved closer to him, pressing your hand onto his thigh, you felt oddly at peace. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t earth stopping-you could easily do this for the rest of the night.
“Byers!” someone snapped, making Jonathan pull away and you groan. Billy had found you. “Go and find your own fucking girlfriend, leave Y/N alone.” He growled and Jonathan rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and brushing off his jeans.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” he muttered with a soft smile and you nodded, watching him go. Billy rolled his eyes, motioning for you to follow him back inside, which you did with a tight frown.
“I thought you weren’t gonna see him tonight.” Billy growled, not looking at you as he spoke.
“Changed my mind.” You replied coarsely “Go bug someone else for awhile, yeah?”
Billy scoffed, but marched off, finding Valerie and planted the biggest, most over the top kiss on her. For a split second, you swore he was doing it to bother you, but then the weight of your insignificance hit you and you found yourself slinking away, finding another drink and another dance partner.
Billy couldn’t stand seeing you kiss Byers; it put a fire in the pit of his stomach and made him want to punch out the wiry kid. You were too good for him. God, you were too good for him. You were loving and sweet and fiery and fun and he was an utter loser. You deserved someone fun, someone who wouldn’t use you when things didn’t go his way. When he kissed Valerie, he was trying to expel that anger, that excess fire. But all it did was annoy him. He watched you walk away. He noticed the way Valerie didn’t look at him, instead out into the crowd for a set of bright green eyes he’d only seen briefly before they darted away.
The party was about as fun as you expected it to be. You watched in silent heartache as Billy and Valerie danced all night, hips grinding into each other with excited, lust filled eyes. Valerie was having a great birthday, but you were sick of celebrating. You tried to have fun, you danced with whatever boy would ask, grinding your hips to rhythms that the boys never stuck with. You were out of sync and utterly bored.
The night stayed that way for awhile. Billy and Valerie danced and swapped spit and drank and you danced and drank. You kissed Richie Swanson, but it wasn’t as nice as kissing Jonathan, filled with mashing gums and banging teeth. You tried to find him, but somehow both he and Nancy had disappeared and Steve was back to dancing with Vicki Matthews.
Then, disaster struck.
Somebody called the cops. Suddenly, the music was shut off and everyone was being rushed out, trying to escape before Chief Hopper could bust in and ruin anything. Billy was sent upstairs to wait for Valerie to finish clearing things up with the cops, but he insisted on sitting with you until your taxi showed up to drive you home.
You were drunker than you’d like to admit, but then again so was Billy. Sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, amber beer bottles in between you, you felt calm, happy even. The fact that he’d chosen you over tipsy, horny Valerie felt like a win in your favour. Neither of you needed to talk, drinking in comfortable silence. Everything was warm and soft, like a duvet cover, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle into it.
“Hey, Y/N?” Billy muttered, his head lulling to look at you, his motor skills lessened by alcohol. He looked utterly beautiful in the yellow light of the wood paneled kitchen, which made your heart ache. Even now, even when he’d spent a whole night driving nails into your heart, you couldn’t help but feel lighter looking at him.
“Yeah?” you replied, bringing the bottle back up to your lips. You absolutely hated beer, but it was cool and gave you courage, two promising aspects.
“I love you, you know that? You’re my best friend…” he slurred, smiling sloppily. Your heart filled with joy, a smile spreading across your face. He loved you. He loved you. He loved you. You kept repeating it over and over in your head, your heart racing loudly in your ears.
You wanted to kiss him, to hug him, to press him up against the nearest wall and have your way with him. But that second part- the ‘You’re my best friend’ part- that was holding you back. He loved you, sure, but he didn’t want you. Not like you wanted him.
With a sigh, you nodded “I know Bee, I love you too…” you replied, knowing that he’d never love you the way you loved him.
352 notes ¡ View notes
blackleatherjacketz ¡ 6 years ago
Text
Secondary Location: Chapter 7
Tumblr media
(Gif isn’t mine)
Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine Nine) x Frank Castle (The Punisher)
Featuring: Jake Peralta and Charles Boyle
Warnings: Shots fired, stakeouts, The milk has gone bad, hold it just a second, Charles being delightful, Ma Gnucci, Silencers, Charles and Jake’s friendhip
Tags: @acutecupidity @bullet-prooflove @sonnshineandrainbows @decisivelynotsure @imclinicallyinsane-gothboiclique 
Read: Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 
The abandoned storefront was hotter than Jake had expected, the warmth of his leather jacket threatening to make him sweat even more than he already had. He could take it off, sure, but then he’d just be in his gray t-shirt. If he was going to meet Frank Castle after he spent all this time with Rosa, well, he wanted to look half as cool as his friend does. He sipped his third energy drink of the night, staring up at the window of Isabella Gnucci’s penthouse as it shocked him awake with each tingling swig. His hands were shaky, his eyes twitching, but he had to stay awake. Rosa was still out there somewhere, and he had to find her before Ma Gnucci did.
“See anything yet?” Charles asked, opening a small carton of milk.
“Not yet, she’s just having dinner with her boyfriend.” He put down his binoculars and looked over at Charles. “Are you drinking milk?”
“I’ve got to keep my bones strong since I’m doing all of that yoga, remember? What if you have to carry Rosa and I have to carry The Punisher? You’re going to thank me for drinking milk then!”
“Charles, nobody’s carrying The Punisher, okay? And it’s so hot, that milk’s going to curdle!” He looked back up at their target and squinted. Isabella Gnucci’s back was facing them, her boyfriend Antoni setting dinner down in front of her.
“Why are they just sitting there when her last surviving son was brutally murdered by The Punisher? Shouldn’t she be mourning right now?” Charles took a sip of his milk and immediately spit it out. It had curdled.
“Charles, I know how these guys think, okay? I was undercover in the Italian mafia for six months, remember? Jakie Lady Hands?” He lifted both hands into the air daintily. “Ugh, nevermind. She’s probably trying to act like everything’s okay while she devises a plan to kill everyone Frank and Rosa love.” He paused and rose his eyebrows. Was he on that list? Was Amy? Was Amy safe at the station while he was out here?
“Alright Jake, you think like the mafia, I’ll think like The Punisher. We have a lot in common, anyways.”
“Charles, you and The Punisher have exactly nothing in common!” Jake focused the lense of the scopes while he tried to find their target… why couldn’t he find her? Where did she go?
“That’s not true! He’s a family man who loves his country. He’s misunderstood, and punishes bad guys. If that doesn’t sound exactly like me, I don’t know what does!” He smiled wide, finally setting the carton of curdled milk down on the windowsill.
“Charles, not now.”
“I mean, if I were him, I wouldn’t waste any time plotting revenge, I’d just come in and get the job done.” He put his hands on his hips and looked up. “Hey, where are they?”
Jake focused the binoculars and noticed two bullet holes in the glass of Isabella Gnucci’s apartment. That’s funny, he hadn’t heard any gunshots. He kept looking around before he saw Isabella frantically stand up, her hair a mess as she crouched down and ran for the door. Two more gunshots, quiet as ever. Damnit, Charles was right! Castle must be on the rooftop!
“Castle’s here, Charles. Let’s cut him off in the alley!” He let the binoculars fall around his neck and started for the back entrance.
“Whoa whoa whoa, Jake!” Charles put his hand on his friend’s chest.
“What are you doing, Charles? He’s going to get away!” Jake pointed to the back door.
“What if we just missed him?” Charles winked dramatically. “What if we just followed him and let him take out the trash before we take him in?”
“But those aren’t our orders.”
“Whoever gave those orders to Captain Holt may be compromised. You heard him yourself, he wasn’t sure the conversation in his office with Rosa was entirely private.” Charles looked up at the penthouse window and back at Jake. “He knows where Rosa is. If we let him get rid of the people that might hurt her again… then we can worry about interrogating him.”
“Charles, are you turning chaotic good?” Jake smiled. “Because your Buzzfeed quiz said you were neutral good!”
“Every dollar has its day!” He slapped Jake on the shoulder.
“That’s not the saying, but I’ll take it!” He put his hand on top of Charles’, squeezing gently before looking at the back entrance. “Plus there’s no way Castle would let the two of us arrest him without breaking our arms or something.”
“Yeah, I thought about that too.”
“For Rosa,” Jake exclaimed.
“For Rosa!” Charles shot his fist in the air, hoping that his plan would work.
“Shots fired, shots fired,” Jake spoke into his walkie talkie as he recited the address of Ma Gnucci’s apartment. “Detectives Peralta and Boyle pursuing shooter on foot.” He waited exactly two minutes to report Frank’s warning shots.
“On foot?” Charles mouthed, dropping his shoulders in disappointment.
“Yes, on foot. Amy and I’ve been hitting the gym.” He hooked his walkie talkie onto his jeans and pulled out his gun. “I just texted Amy, Holt and Terry.”
“Did you tell them my chaotic good plan?” Charles pulled his gun out too.
“No, I’m going to let that be our little secret.”
“I just love having secrets with you, Jake! I feel like it makes our friendship that much closer, you know?” He stared lovingly at his friend.
“Charles, the chase.” Jake opened the door to the back and nodded outside.
“Oh, right.”
25 notes ¡ View notes
fordarkisthesuede ¡ 7 years ago
Text
At the Brink of Midnight - Chapter 9
*Arrives two days late with Starbucks* ‘Sup, guys! σ( ▼∀▼)σ These past 96 hours have somehow filled me with a weird chaotic energy, and I pumped out the longest roller-coaster of a chapter I’ve ever done in such a short amount of time!!! Thank you, whoever sent all the writing vibes my way!!!! ★>d(,,・ε´-,,)⌒☆ I’m sending out strong vibes to everybody in return! *May you get hit by the writing bug and have the opportunity and energy to completely translate your ideas to printed words!*
Buuut a big note before we get to the good stuff:  I realized too late that the original events of S2 take place in Spring. Like…April. I was writing all of this with the thought that S2 took place in fall; I mean, the characters can wear a leather jacket or a couple of layers comfortably, so I thought “yeah that sounds like early autumn”. Nope! So that means that for this story’s timeline, everything gets shifted into where it should be. On the downside, that means I had to go through and edit all the bits where it said “it was totally spring, you guys”. On the upside… IT’S NOW OCTOBER!!!!! THE SPOOKY SEASON THAT COMPLETELY FITS WITH WHAT’S GOING ON!!! And coincidentally, it’s my favorite time of the year, so I love writing about it even more! I get to add in a thing here and there about the spookiest time of the year, so I’ll have a nice list of what those little changes are uploaded here soon if you don’t feel like re-reading the whole thing. A re-read isn't necessary though, just keep in mind that the humid air of rainy spring in the city is replaced with chilling fronts and even more cloud cover than usual. Why am I bothering with this? Because I’m a stickler for keeping with canon as much as possible and I feel like an absolute fool for not remembering what goddamn time of year it was to begin with. (I mean, I went so far as to download all of TeamFourStar’s play-through because I watched it so often, you think I'd remember to go back and watch the very beginning once in a while…)
Anywho, thank you all again for your continuously loving support!!! 
♡~(ɔ ˘3˘)˘⌣˘ c)
Important Spoiler Tags: drugs (mentioned), swearing, canon-typical violence, electric shocks (mentioned), torture of flowers, flirting, almost an excessive use of emoji, crying, romantic dirty thoughts
<Prev> <Next> <All>
Read on Ao3 or continue below:
Chapter 9:  Grapevines
Bruce Wayne couldn’t remember the last time he’d conducted a meeting from his home office. It wasn’t as if he didn’t use it – the desk surface had hardly any dust settled on it and two empty coffee mugs he’d forgotten about on two different occasions just happened to be stacked behind the monitor – but it felt strange, like a lot of things did lately.
He knew part of the reason for that was watching houses down in the Batcave right now. Knowing he wasn’t alone in the house was comforting, but knowing there were two cops outside the Manor’s front door just waiting for a chance to grab his best friend-cum-houseguest was not, and knowing that they were both close to being thrown in hot water was even less so.
He figured the other reason he felt strange was because he was slipping back into his old habit as if it had never been shelved in the first place. He had time to kill before the video meeting started, so he’d been scouring for information on “Pam”, Jonathan Crane’s ‘old friend’.
There were a few Pamela’s in Gotham, but only one fit within Crane’s age-range and attended Gotham University at about the same time:  Pamela Isley, a forty-four-year-old former botanist with a record that ran the length of his arm. Theft, assault, threats, and attempted poisonings all done in the name of extreme environmentalism and social activism were sprinkled in her history before and after her days as a researcher, and according to GCPD records, she was now suspected of running her own drug-ring under the moniker of ‘Poison Ivy’. (Bruce found several recorded instances of people claiming to be Poison Ivy, most of whom were already arrested.)
Bruce would’ve wondered why on Earth she hadn’t been thrown in prison when she made a bomb-threat at a wealthy businessman several states away nearly a decade ago if he hadn’t seen her mug-shot from back then. At thirty-five, she looked every bit as beautiful as a top-billed Hollywood star, with natural orange-red curls cascading over her pale shoulders and ample bust in chemically-tamed waves, flashing the camera a come-hither stare that made it look like she was trying for a part in a high-budget porn flick rather than standing in front of a height chart for her criminal record. Pamela’s charges were mysteriously swept under the rug.
The latest photo he found of her reminded him a bit of those ‘cougar’ dating ads he’d seen – the older Pamela was blowing a kiss to the camera with a mocking look in her dark green eyes. Bruce glared at it. There was little doubt she was using people to cover for her constantly, and when she was in trouble, she managed to wriggle out of it with her looks.
Not this time. She was friends with Dr. Jonathan Crane, and that meant she wasn’t going to get out of this unharmed. The second his virtual meeting was over, Bruce was heading towards Toxic Acres, and hopefully the wounded Crane would still be there to see Batman’s fist hit his –
Bruce snapped out of his thoughts at the buzz of his phone. A message from the BatComputer…?
I’m bored :/
Bruce blinked down at the screen. John had found the emergency messaging system. Of course he had. He was just grateful that the encryption software on his phone was still up to date. Just what else did John poke his nose into down there…? (There was the chance that John would see files he shouldn’t, but Bruce kept those under a thumbprint encryption. He shouldn’t even entertain the thought.)
Stake-outs are usually pretty boring.
It wouldn’t be so bad if you were down here tho! :)
Bruce hovered his thumb over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. The feeling was kind of mutual, if he was being honest; having another person around on a stakeout would at least keep his mind wandering into the worsts of what-ifs and double-checking every last security issue…
No movement on either houses btw. Been reading Crane’s docs in the meantime but it’s DREADFUL!!! I feel like I’m reading a sleeping pill… =_=
You finish your WE stuff yet?
Meeting’s not for another 20 minutes. Been looking up stuff on Crane’s “friend”.
Oh??? :o Do tell!!!!
Bruce couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm.
Pamela Isley, former botanist w/ criminal rec., mostly extreme protest kind of stuff. Good chance she’s the head of a drug-ring that moved here a couple months ago; their leader goes by “Poison Ivy”.
They went to college together, but Pamela moved back here recently.
hMmMmm…. That means no burning the place down if we’re stuck! Bad fumes everywhere xP
Bruce focused on the word “we’re”. He hadn’t been planning on bringing John along. He wanted him safe, at home, where no one had a chance of seeing him and he wasn’t put in harm’s way…
Oh!!! You’ve got a bunch of sticky electro-shockers around - do you mind if I tinker with them? :3c pleeeeaaasssee?
What are you thinking of doing with them?
Making one BIIIIIG shock-bomb, of course! ;D I can wire them together so the shock spreads evenly in the space while it’s discharging.
Bruce reconsidered bringing John. He was still learning to curb his impulses, so being outside in a fighting environment would be a serious gamble, but... Maybe that could be their advantage, too. Bruce made a mental note to go dig out the spare bullet-proof vest from his closet’s secret panel.
You can do that?
I played around with making something like it before, but……well, you know.
Time + supplies for that project were low att. I figured I could always go back to it later anyway.
Bruce felt like his heart had deflated and swelled in such a short time that it hurt.
I mean I’m fine with throwing knives around too but I figured that would be less discrete ¯\_(ツ )_/¯
He’d been thinking of different methods of entering the “house”. Most of them featured a silent slip-in and as little combat as possible, but he knew that there would likely be some muscle around to stop any would-be intruders, and getting a quieter jump on them would certainly be helpful. He would certainly be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed that John had thought that far ahead even back then.
If you think you can get it done within 1.5 hours, then yes.
Ha ha ha with these supplies I can get it done in like 40 mins! >:3 just you watch!!!
Btw have you seen the news?
Not yet. Why?
I was on the morning edition! At least they used a good pic ;D
But also saw a guy getting fished out of the harbor. Your handy-dandy invasion software said he’s a registered Ryde driver.
I told you not to fiddle with that.
Sorry, but I only used it the once! Promise!!!
Bruce sighed through his nostrils.
Besides I thought you’d want to know. Think Crane stole his ride and dumped him by the docks? :v
Probably. I can get the plate from up here to verify. DO NOT TOUCH THAT PROGRAM AGAIN.
Yes sir ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Bruce wasn’t sure if that message was supposed to be flirtatious or mocking.
The incoming call from Iman Avesta stopped him from responding. He figured it had to do with John’s escape and the extra security added at Wayne Tower this morning, but why was she calling him now, rather than several hours ago?
“Iman?”
“Hey, Bruce. Hold on a sec – there we go, now we can both -”
“Bruce, what the fuck?” Tiffany asked over the line. “Are you at home right now?”
Bruce almost sighed at the attitude. “Yes, Tiffany, I’m at home, in my office.”
“Uh-huh. I keep getting alerts that your basement’s messaging system is being used. Care to explain that?”
Oh. Of course. He’d forgotten Tiffany had linked her phone to that, too. It’d just…been too long, he supposed. (She couldn’t read them, though, could she? He was fairly sure it didn’t give out mass-texts unless prompted.) “…where are you right now?”
Iman responded instead. “We’re in your second office.”
“…the line’s secure?”
“Of course.” Iman paused, and Bruce knew his new CSO was choosing her words carefully. “I’m guessing you have John Doe in the Batcave?”
“Yes.”
“Bruce, did you fucking break him out?” Tiffany asked with no shortness of impatience.
“I rescued him,” Bruce said firmly. “I know what you’re thinking, and I have a pretty good idea of what you’re going to say, but listen:  I had no choice but to take him with me. One of the doctors working at Arkham has gone rogue – he’d been doing experiments on patients, and I have a feeling he’s going to continue them on civilians. I need to find him before then, and John has been helping me.”
“Helping…? You’re not bringing him in the field with you?” Tiffany said disbelievingly. “After that psychopath almost killed us?”
Bruce could still see Joker running at Tiffany, knife in hand, his psychotic breakdown in full force. He could still see him being smacked against the railing, sheer madness played over his long, bloody face as he desperately fought to stab what was his hero.
But John and Joker were as much the same as Bruce and Batman were, and they were constantly changing.
The Joker in the Batcave wasn’t the same one from Ace Chemicals.  
“I know what John did,” he answered, trying to breathe even as something wanted to hitch in his throat, “and I know how far he’s come since then. I know you both regret-”
“No, I’m not listening to this right now,” Tiffany scowled, her voice fading in the middle her sentence like she was leaving the room. “Talk some sense into him.”
Bruce heard Iman’s voice call after her, and then nothing for a beat.
Iman sighed. “I’ll talk to her. But Bruce,” she started seriously, “Tiffany isn’t the only one worrying about you. Six months can’t possibly cure everything wrong with a man whose spent his life in an asylum.” He could practically hear her chew over her phrasing. “I need to know… If John goes too far – if he shows signs of regressing…or just becoming more volatile – I need to know you’re going to put your foot down.”
“I’m more than capable of handling him, Iman.”
“Please, Bruce, I’d rather not have to pull you off another broken pipe lodged in your kidney.” She paused, and Bruce let her continue, feeling the scar in his side twinge at the painful memory. “I know you care a lot about him,” she resumed in a softer tone, “and I know you trust him. But if you doubt him at any time, you need you to step back and re-evaluate your choices. I don’t want him to regress back into the Joker.”
That was a different Joker, Bruce wanted to say. He knew that wouldn’t sound the way it should. “I promise I won’t let that happen.”
“Good to know,” Iman replied, sounding somewhat relieved. “This doctor you’re hunting – is there anything we can do to help?”
Bruce shot a look at the clock in the corner of his monitor. He didn’t have as much time left as he would’ve liked before his virtual meeting started. “Tiffany can fill you in a bit, I had her help searching Arkham’s records before. Can you run a plate for me? I think Dr. Crane is running with a stolen car; I’ll send you the details in a bit.”
“Sure. We can check traffic cams for it, too, if you’d like.”
“If you would. And the second I have anything concrete on Dr. Crane, I’m sending Tiffany the details – I need her pull as Oracle to get the word out to the GCPD before anything happens. They’ll listen to their number-one informant more than a vigilante coming out of retirement.”
“…you’re…?”
He could almost see the shock in her face. They’d had a short discussion about his alter-ego when he decided to quit the first time; she’d been incredibly understanding about the whole thing. It was almost as if she’d seen it coming.
“Are you sure?”
He was as sure. She didn’t know about the instincts broiling underneath his surface every day. She didn’t know he never really stopped being half of himself. She wouldn’t know or really understand that he just shoved it all down and aside like he did so much else just to get through things. “I don’t have any other options at this point.”
“…you know you can count on us if you need the help.”
“Of course I do.”
“Right. Well, in the meantime we’ll keep the fort over here running as smoothly as possible.”
“Thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Good luck.”
The line went silent, and Bruce pulled his phone away, catching a glimpse of three unread messages.
Sorry, buddy, I was just kidding around, you know? Ha ha
Bruce???
Hello???????
Sorry, had a phone call and couldn’t reply. It’s fine.
Seconds ticked by, and Bruce began changing out of his black t-shirt and into his button-down. It wouldn’t do to appear as a CEO in anything less than a proper suit. He could leave the jeans on, at least.
“Oh! Uh…sorry, Bruce…”
He felt his heart stop for a second. That was definitely John’s voice, even though it crackled slightly from the speakers. The monitor didn’t show anything out of the ordinary. John must have been using the spy-camera feature on the Batcomputer; it was linked to most the devices in the house, and Bruce’s webcam was no exception. He’d almost forgotten it had a loudspeaker function, too.
“I didn’t realize you were…um, changing.”
Bruce glared at the webcam’s lens. “John, what did I tell you about fiddling with the Batcomputer?”
“…sorry. I was worried when you didn’t answer me.”
He sounded genuine, at least. Bruce could easily picture him running upstairs to find him, if there wasn’t a chance he would’ve been seen. “I answered you a minute ago. I was on a call with Iman,” he stated plainly, fixing the buttons on his sleeves.
“…oh, ha ha, there it is! Uh, I guess I’ll just…go, then…”
Bruce almost questioned why John was sounding nervous and distracted, but it wasn’t until he saw the webcam light wink off again that he realized his shirt was wide open, the scars littering his torso half on display from the waist up.
Thankfully, no one was around to see Bruce bury his face in the palm of his hand for a moment, feeling like his face was on fire from first and second-hand embarrassment.
It didn’t last long. Bruce took a few deep breaths as he fixed himself up, and dialed into the meeting with a fixed expression of calm, firmly ignoring the heat that had settled in his stomach that threatened to go lower at the thought that John was bound not to forget any of that.
Driving the Batmobile in full gear again was certainly something else. Bruce felt the weight of the Kevlar body armor press against his limbs as he sped down Gotham’s twisting alley streets, no one any the wiser that the Wayne’s red sports car was hiding Batman behind it. The city’s CCTV signal was scrambled with the flick of a switch as he came into driving distance of the alley’s camera, making him almost untraceable.
He’d given the Honda Accord a head-start; it couldn’t go nearly as fast as the Batmobile, and Bruce had to find a spot to safely change before going to go pick John up from his drop-off point, and the post-working-hours traffic had already gotten its usual early start. It was a slower drive than he’d like it to be, even with Bruce’s shortcuts.
The setting sun was completely obscured by a dark overcast. It made the orange streetlamps glowing over the decorations sitting here and there in windows and doors even more energetic, like every corner of Gotham was slowly growing with the energy of Halloween.
Bruce clicked the communicator in his cowl. “John, are you there yet?”
Silence for a few seconds, and then a rustling noise. “Sorry, I had to take this off for a bit. What?”
“Are you there yet?”
John giggled slightly. “Oh, yeah, I’m here. Just waiting on you, pal.”
He was already at the meeting point? How did he get there so fast? “You put everything back where it was supposed to be?”
“No, I stripped the seats and threw everything into the garbage,” John grumbled with dripping sarcasm. “Of course I did, it’d be rude not to put Jerry’s stuff back. What do you take me for?”
“…I’m just making sure you didn’t forget anything.”
“I didn’t.” There was a loud slurping noise, like the last of a liquid being sucked from a straw.
“John, where are you right now?”
“In the alley, waiting for you.”
“Did you make a stop?”
John giggled, a little louder, but not at all nervous. He was enjoying himself. “What can I say? Going out on the town with you like this makes me thirsty,” he said with a strange purr. “Besides, no one bats an eye at me when I look like this anyway.” He paused. “Well, no, I’ve gotten some eyes on me, but, uh, I think they’re more the appreciative type. I guess ZZ Top was kinda right about the sharp-dresser thing.”
Bruce felt his brows knit together. “You’ve always looked sharp,” he said truthfully, turning down a narrow alley.
“Yeah, but not thousand-dollar-suit sharp. There’s a difference! Plus I think this bullet-proof vest makes me look a little bulkier than I actually am.”
Bruce spotted him leaning against the graffiti-covered wall, a Burger Lord cup in one hand and a plastic orange bag in another. Just how much time did Bruce lose while he was changing?
John tossed the drink in the dumpster and practically jumped into the car, shoving the orange bag behind the driver seat and slamming the door shut as Bruce switched off the communicator. He took one look at Bruce’s questioning glower and gave a nervous sort of grin. “Hey, don’t look at me like that, there’s something in there for you, too.”
Bruce almost asked what, but decided that a lecture on keeping a low profile and not taking money from his house’s various hiding spots would have to wait. (Though he supposed whatever John got wasn’t expensive. He was quite frugal, and it wasn’t as if Bruce couldn’t afford to buy John whatever he wanted anyway.) He concentrated instead on heading down the twisting path towards Toxic Acres. At least the traffic over there was a hell of a lot lighter.
“Hey, when you drove me to the Batcave, did you go in fourth gear, or third?”
He wasn’t sure why he asked, but he honestly couldn’t remember. He just recalled putting his foot to the floor and keeping his eyes on the road, occasionally reaching over to check John’s pulse. “I wasn’t really paying attention to that; I concentrating more on driving as fast as possible.”
“Oh – so you didn’t know you could punch the shift down into third whenever you wanted? It was so fun! I can say I literally punched it out of the Batcave!” He laughed. “I’m guessing you can’t do that in this car?”
“…I’ve got paddle shifters.” They were starting to travel into the more deserted road leading into Toxic Acres. Bruce took a sharp turn onto the hill with the broken Do Not Enter sign, and checking that no one was behind him, flipped the switch to shift the car into armored plates and pressed the wheel-paddle for a lower gear.
They flew down the road with a whirring whine of the engine, John’s notorious excited laugh mixing with it, and Bruce allowed himself to smile a little at it, knowing his own little joyful thrill wouldn’t last very long.
John was soon tapping his fingers together in some kind of rhythm as they passed by more empty houses, Bruce moving a little slower to keep his eyes out for trouble. Sitting close to the river on the outskirts of the city, they were originally meant to be a long neighborhood for the middle and upper class to build their lives, but as the unemployment and crime rates rose, the place became abandoned. It didn’t help that the piping structure to carry water there had been faulty, making either lead poisoning or unfiltered dirty water a prominent problem and giving the section of Gotham its nickname.
“How do we know which place is the botanist’s?” John asked, his green eyes scouring the houses in front of them.
“I sent out another drone earlier for some aerial shots. There’s a place with camouflaged green-houses in the back on Aster Place.”
“Wow, you did that before I left? That was fast…”
“It was a quick job. I’m not picking up the other drone until later.”
They turned the corner onto Aster Place; the road would dead-end in a while, but Bruce knew the house wouldn’t be situated at the end.
“Oh, there’s the spot Jackie got shot at!” John pointed ahead. “I wonder if there’s a bloodstain left…!”
Bruce tightened his grip on the wheel. “We’re close.”
It was oddly quiet out there. There was no other sign of life in what was a hot-spot of criminal hide-outs. Bruce turned on the thermal vision in his cowl; a lot of the houses were actually empty for once.
Except for one. 1801 Aster Place. There were a group of people scattered around on the bottom floor and what appeared to be a lot of heat-lamps running on the top floor. If one of the people in the group wasn’t Pamela Isley, then she might have been holding up in the basement…
They left the Batmobile out of sight down the road, and Bruce and John moved swiftly behind the backs of the houses in the chilly night air, the taser bomb safely in John’s coat pocket; John was surprisingly quiet, only humming a familiar tune here and there. (Wasn’t it the theme from that old spy-thriller…?) Bruce managed to quiet him with a look, and John mimed locking his mouth shut and throwing the key away.
Two unknown people were standing in what used to be a kitchen; three more people were up in the front room of the house. There were no security cameras to be seen.  
“Stick close to me,” Bruce whispered, the modifier in his cowl deepening his voice. “We go in through the back window, take out the two in the kitchen quietly and throw the bomb up front so we can cuff the lot. If none of them are Ms. Isley, we find the basement.”
John gave him a thumbs up, pulling out the riot baton he had hidden away. (Bruce had still not remembered when he or Alfred bought that, but vaguely remembered stashing it in the towel cupboard with some other emergency gear. He wasn’t surprised John found it.)
The bathroom window’s locks weren’t difficult to break. They looked like they had been broken several times already. Bruce slid the insect screen up and slipped in through the thin opening feet-first, twisting his limbs just right to softly land on the floor. He had to help pull John through the rest of the way after he smacked his head on the bottom of the window; thankfully he hadn’t made any noise, but he did give Bruce a strange look as brushed himself off where Bruce had gripped his sides.
Bruce didn’t have time to think about it.
The two people in the kitchen stood in semi-darkness, watching through the patio windows with rifles leaning against the wall. There wasn’t so much a bare bulb to give off light. Bruce figured their eyes might have adjusted to the dark, and signaled John to follow as he crept up behind the two goons.
“I dunno, with all the hype surrounding episode four, you just know those guys are going to mess up somewhere. Remember when they decided to let Celestyne drop to his death back in season one?” The one with dreadlocks asked.
“Oh, come on, that was just to test the game’s limits. Besides, Celestyne couldn’t die; I don’t think Jane can, either,” the second person responded in a higher voice with a casual shrug.
“Dude, you know the game’s gonna make her a villain in the end, though, right? She might die…”
Bruce was ready. John was gripping the baton with a widening grin…
“Are you kidding me? They have her affection meter up so high I’m surprised the game doesn’t have a dating opt-”
Bruce slammed dreadlocked goon’s head into the wall just as the baton crashed down on the other goon’s skull, little smears of blood marking the plaster and paint with a satisfying crack.
John clutched the collar of the goon he’d struck, gripping the slightly bloody baton a little harder in his other hand. He seemed to be thinking.
Bruce took a zip-tie out and cuffed the goon’s hands behind their back, and wondered just what John was staring at until he’d turned the person around and caught a glimpse of them in the light of the window.
They were both women with little tattoos of vines creeping along the back of their necks.
If Bruce guessed right, those were ivy leaves on the vine. Poison Ivy had a loyal gang.
John zip-tied the wrists of the woman he’d struck and patted the part of her head that wasn’t wounded. “Sorry,” he whispered as if she would hear it. “Lauren’s ex,” John mumbled, gesturing to the woman on the floor as if he knew Bruce had raised his eyebrow at him.
Bruce simply swept onward, spying the door for the basement. There was a light on in the front room, and three women who looked like they could be professional boxers of different weight categories were sitting in different areas. One was sharpening a knife at the table, and another was cleaning a semi-automatic rifle as the third kept watch over a monitor showing security camera footage; three looked to be by the greenhouses (Bruce recognized the Foxglove variety growing in one under an opening in the glass, sitting next to something that looked primeval), and two were watching over the plants upstairs (marijuana, by the looks of it) and in the basement.
There was a figure in the last screen, working over a row of potted plants with low lamps. A zoom-in with Bruce’s lenses showed long red hair.
Bruce felt a hand on his shoulder, and John crept ahead him, the taser-bomb in hand: it looked like a mass of the sticky-bombs grouped together, colorful wiring connecting them all like some kind of net, and before Bruce could do or say anything, John threw it into the living room, where it tumbled into the middle of the floor.
The group began to shoot out of their seats in a second, and in the next the ball seemed to expand like a geometric toy, the wired tasers being thrown in the air with a flash before smacking people and surfaces alike as they discharged. All three people fell to the floor in trembling heaps, and John dashed out and started to cuff them, Bruce close behind.
The electric bombs were safe to touch now that they had fully discharged, so Bruce had no qualm about stomping on the lightly-burning sections of carpet underneath some of them to prevent any spread of fire as he pushed them aside. The bulkiest goon wasn’t quite down for the count; she was still conscious.
She yanked John off her fallen comrade by his shoulder and threw him into the table’s edge. Bruce threw a Batarang at her arm just as she was about to punch, and John gave a swift knee to her stomach as she flinched.
She fell to the floor with a louder crash and a grunt, pulling the Batarang out from her arm and letting it drop to the floor. “You fucker…” She said, glaring up at John before looking over at Bruce, her eyes widening as he approached with more Batarangs at the ready. “B-Batman…?”
��Yup! He’s real,” John said playfully before smacking the side of her head with the baton. “And so am I,” he added with a growl. He decided to tie her wrists behind the nearest table leg. “I hate not being able to call myself Joker like this… Really sells it better.”
Bruce felt his heart twitch at the name. “You can call yourself that, if it helps,” Bruce said gently, tying the monitoring-station woman’s wrists together, “Just not to people’s faces.”
“Kinda defeats the point,” John grumbled.
Bruce shot a look at the security monitor – Pamela Isley didn’t seem to have heard anything. Still, precaution should be used. “Let’s go,” he said plainly, sweeping out of the room with a swish of his cape.
John tucked a hand into his pocket and followed.
The basement stairs were carpeted and quiet, but Bruce was careful to walk on the outsides rather than the middle. Spiders had clearly made themselves right at home in the damp corners of the walls, and he had to duck to avoid getting the tips of his cowl’s ears stuck in one of their webs. A soft sort of click was heard behind his back, and Bruce figured John had gotten out his grappling gun.
Pamela Isley was bent over a row of exotic-looking orchids posed under heat lamps, dabbing something into the center of a blue orchid’s petals. Bruce saw several troughs full of hallucinogenic mushrooms sitting on the other side of the wall.
“There you go, my darling,” she cooed in a honeyed voice, acting like she was carefully painting the center of the flower, “You’ll soon be the belle of the ball…”
Bruce eyed the electrical box on the other side of the room. It wouldn’t do to drown the place in darkness; he’d be able to see, but John wouldn’t. The best bet was to tackle and restrain her.
Or…
Bruce took out his own grappling gun, and aimed it at Isley’s collar. One click, and it snagged her shirt with practiced ease.
“What the-?!”
Pamela Isley was suddenly dragged yelping through the air at an angle, smacking hard into one of the tables and spilling several unusual potted flowers to the floor.
Bruce grabbed her and threw her to the concrete floor, standing over her with several Batarangs in his hand as John cackled beside him.
“Jonathan Crane,” Bruce growled out, “Where is he?”
Pamela Isley sat up, shock written all over her face as she processed exactly what happened – it quickly morphed to a steely stare. “Batman,” she said slowly in a sweet voice, “I thought you were an urban legend,” she continued, wiping the corner of her mouth where a dribble of blood leaked out. “Do you always treat a lady this way?”
Bruce dragged her up by her collar and threw her against the wall, keeping her at arm’s length. “I know he bought plants from you today. Tell me where he is.”
“Or what?” She taunted, smirking widely at him. “You think I haven’t been knocked around by men before? I’ve been in whole worlds of hurt, honey.”
There was the distinct sound of the grappling wire rushing through the air, and then an enormous crash – John had taken out one of the mushroom tables, the fungi now breaking and bouncing against the floor it the scattered in the dirt.
“Whoopsie,” John hummed, a wide unnerving grin on his face, “butter-fingers.”
Isley looked rather taken aback, but the expression quickly warped into a mocking glare. “You think destroying my inventory is going to intimidate me?”
John shrugged, leaning back against a table and knocking over a several small tropical plants with a slide of his hand, shattering the clay pots and sending the plants scattering to the hard floor.
That definitely got her attention; her face paled slightly and there was tremble in her. “Stop that!”
Bruce glared at her, mentally thanking John for his quick thinking. “Tell me where Crane is and I’ll consider stopping him from tearing this place apart.”
Her dark green eyes glared at him with a slow-boiling dislike. “Let me go first.”
Bruce did a very quick once-over; she didn’t seem to have a gun holster on her, and she was definitely a lighter build than the rest of her gang. Knives were still a possibility. He decided to let go, keeping a Batarang between his fingers just in case as he stepped just out of her reach.
Pamela dusted off her green turtleneck. “I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care. He bought a few of my flowers and left,” she said, crossing her arms.
John laughed, fingering the leaves of the blue orchid she’d been attending. “With a hole in his shoulder? You didn’t even offer a band-aid for that?”
Pamela was closely eyeing the plant in John’s hand. “What if I did?”
“I know he’s a friend of yours, Isley,” Bruce growled. “You’re the only one who could know what he’s planning.”
“I told you, I don’t know,” she stated, “and I don’t care. I’m not his mother.”
“I can see why you were paying such close attention to this one,” John hummed, fingering the petals with a gloved hand. “It’s so pretty. You put a lot of effort into keeping all these, huh?” He grinned at her, almost looking like his usual self. “It’s not just some financial scheme for you, is it?”
“Of course it is,” Pamela stared at him, trying to keep her voice level; Bruce noticed her eyes kept flicking slightly downward, like she was watching the plant. “I breed and sell rare plants to collectors on the side.”
“Oh good! So this won’t bother you!”
In a swift move, John cut the blossom off the stem with the bowie knife one of the group upstairs had been sharpening.
The blossom fell to the table, and Pamela Isley looked as if she’d seen a ghost.
John picked up the blossom. “Let’s see – she’s honest,” he said playfully, plucking a petal from the stem, “she’s not!” He pulled another.
“STOP IT!” Pamela shrieked, making to rush at him – Bruce pulled her back and pointed the tip of the Batarang at her face. She glanced at it fearfully, but then looked back at the flower being torn apart in John’s hand, and it looked like she was watching a child die before her eyes.
“Stop that,” Bruce instructed; John hummed and held it still. “Talk, or my partner and I crush every plant in this place.”
Isley stared at the flower in John’s hand. “I… I don’t know what he’s planning,” she said quietly, her voice cracking slightly. John only touched the tip of a petal before she spoke again – “But-! But I know… He’s building something. He didn’t say what, but he asked for some muscle - I hooked him up with some of Maroni’s old boys.” She shut her eyes and took a breath before glaring at John like he was a complete monster. “I hope the lot of them tears you limb from limb.”
Bruce forced Isley’s hands behind her back and zip-tied them. “Down on the ground,” he growled, pushing down on the top of her head. John pointed the grappling gun in her face with a smirk; a good insurance if she decided to try and elbow Bruce in the face.
Pamela shot them both a hateful glare as she knelt down, and it didn’t waver as her ankles were tied, too. “I won’t forget this,” she spat.
Bruce sent off a message to Tiffany regarding the coordinates of “Poison Ivy”’s headquarters from his gauntlet. He knew she’d get the word out before he could even get back in the car. “Tell it to the judge,” he taunted, leading the way out of the basement, not missing the sparkle in John’s eyes as he followed, the severed, torn orchid blossom having been carelessly thrown at Pamela Isley’s feet.
John gathered up the sticky bomb device before they hustled back to the Batmobile, and it wasn’t until the doors closed that he spoke, and when he did it was in a tone Bruce would almost call revered.
“So, what do we do now, partner?” He asked, a definite glow on his face.
“We go look at some of the Maroni gang’s old haunts and see if we can find anyone recently hired,” Bruce said, the voice modifier in his cowl now disabled. He glanced at his recent text messages:  one from Tiffany giving the ok on Poison Ivy, and another from Iman with the last known location of the stolen Ryde car. “After we look into the motels in the red-light district. Crane might’ve stayed there.”
John laughed to himself, but for once he didn’t share the joke; instead, he pulled out a packet of jerky from the plastic bag he’d brought along. “I knew this would be a long night,” he said cheerfully, as if he was really looking forward to the whole thing.
It was well past one in the morning when Bruce arrived back home through the front gate, the Batsuit stowed away and the plates flipped back to red. The two patrol officers were only somewhat surprised to see him arrive back. Naturally, they reported nothing new, since John had been dropped off in the Batcave first.
Sore muscles were nothing new to Bruce. The old strained climb back up to his bed was just as annoying as ever. He honestly didn’t feel like he wanted to sleep, but after following several empty leads over the city and bruising a few heads alongside John, he did admit that he was physically exhausted. He knew lying down was better than nothing, and he still had to go to work in several hours like he didn’t have a double life. At least he wasn't starving, thanks to John thinking ahead and buying him protein-and-carb-filled snacks.
He forced himself to go through his usual nightly routine, despite the temptation to just flop into bed and lay there. He looked at the bruises on his back and ribs from where John had struggled against him under the influence of Crane’s drug, and decided not to bother putting the bruise-away cream on them, nor on the new ones forming on his shoulder from where one of the former mobsters had hit him.
When he did finally collapse onto the master bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs, his brain still decided to chat away at him.
There were no leads as to who exactly Isley had hired for Crane. Bruce cursed himself for not trying to work the specifics out of her. At least he knew she was arrested for drug possession and manufacturing, as well as smuggling illegal fauna.
There was no word on the whereabouts of Jackie Lant. Her car was missing, and she’d called into work sick. Her apartment hadn’t been visited in the entire time Bruce had his drone’s eye on it, and neither Tiffany nor Iman had seen anything when they looked into Jackie’s friends’ places, either. All Bruce knew was that she hadn’t called an ambulance to fetch her from Toxic Acres, that she hadn’t been admitted to a hospital, and that there was no sign of her body either in the Acres or in the Gotham River.
She was alive, somewhere, and Bruce didn’t know what she was going to do next. He hoped she was just going to lie low until he caught Crane.
Jonathan Crane was nowhere to be found. His house was still empty. He didn’t seem to be staying at any of the motels – or hotels – around the red-light district or its surrounding streets, and nothing had come of a quick credit-card check. The Ryde driver the GCPD fished out of the River that morning had been shot in the head, and his car was so common that if Crane could’ve switched the license plate with anything and been completely invisible. They’d done a quick search of the warehouse district and found no sign of him there, either.
Bruce had the nagging feeling that he wasn’t going to find Crane until the doctor reared his head.
The billionaire rolled onto his stomach, shoving the anxious thought away as he pressed his cheek further into the plush black jersey pillowcase. There were a couple more places he could check tomorrow…
The bedroom door creaked, and Bruce’s eyes shot open, a second away from grabbing the billy-club under his pillow – he could see John’s messy hair in his dark silhouette.
“Bruce? You awake?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“…can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Bruce noticed he closed the door behind him. Like he was planning to stay there.
That definitely put a new light onto the situation. A tense thrill was building in his shoulders as John deigned to sit on the edge of the mattress, his back to Bruce.
John was only wearing his Arkham-regulated pants, and the pale white of his bare skin almost shone in the light streaming in from the window. Bruce saw several bruises forming, one of which was from where he’d gotten grabbed by the shoulder by a Poison Ivy goon, and several more where he’d gotten knocked into.
“…I don’t think I can sleep in that guest room,” John sighed. “I mean, I tried my usual methods of sleep induction, but… It’s too big…and empty. I’m really not used to that.” His voice came out quieter and more contemplative. “I know it’s weird, but do you mind if I sleep in here?” He asked, turning halfway to look right at Bruce.
He felt trapped. If he said no, at the worst John would sulk, and at the best John wouldn’t get any sleep, and that was definitely worse for his mental health. John had mentioned before about how regular sleep cycles were supposed to help with that.
If he said yes, though, he’d know he was sleeping next to John, and there was the tiny worry in the back of his head that John might…try something. Or at least roll over too much.
“I promise I’ll stay over on my side,” John muttered, not tearing his eyes away.
“Alright.”
A sweet smile stretched on his face. “Thanks, Bruce. You won’t regret this.”
“If you keep talking, I might.”
John giggled as he slid beneath the covers on the far side of the bed, flopping one of the extra pillows down between them. “There – a no-roll barrier,” he said as if he had to explain the concept to Bruce.
It did not escape Bruce’s attention that John had decided to lie facing him and rest his arm on top of the pillow. John had pulled the covers up to just underneath his armpits; Bruce could see John's sharp collarbone and the lean wiry muscle of his chest. (Bruce made sure not to look for more than a moment's curiosity would allow.)
God, John’s face was actually his for the first time that whole night. Bruce had gotten used to seeing it in the natural makeup, but it was almost a relief to see it in its normal borderline-luminescent white. He looked like the man Bruce knew.
Acid-green eyes stared at him, flicking slightly and growing soft. “I…did want to talk to you about something, though. If it’s okay.”
“I suppose I’m still awake,” Bruce said in an attempt to lighten the tension in his arms. “Sure.”
“Do you ever…look back on something, and think about the worst thing that could’ve happened in that situation?”
He didn’t like to admit it, but he had. Usually in his worst moods, he’d think about how everything could’ve gone wrong. He’d usually think about everything he could’ve done better, too. “I try not to, but…sometimes, yeah.”
“I’ve been thinking about our fight a lot, lately,” John confessed, “At Ace. I used to think about it a lot when I got recommitted, but… You started visiting me,” he said softly, a light smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You remember when I told you I thought I’d messed things up for us?”
“Yeah.” It was Bruce’s first visit to John. He never forgot the sheer hopeful joy on John’s face upon seeing him. It was practically engraved in his memory.
“Ever since I started sessions with Crane, I kept going back to that night. He always tried to weasel my worst secrets out of me,” he said with a low scowl, “but when he started using that…toxin on me… I kept…thinking about what could have happened back there. I… I know I almost killed you.”
The sheer pain reading in John’s eyes was enough to make Bruce want to wrap his arms around him. It was beautiful and raw and honest, and Bruce found himself holding stock still, almost captivated by the expression.
“I kept seeing it. Over and over – it was like I could see myself throwing you over the railing or-or stabbing you, or...” Bruce saw tears welling up as John clenched the pillow between them. “I don’t want to come close to that again, Bruce,” he managed to say, his voice starting to hitch. “I don’t… I don’t want to kill you.”
Bruce threw his pride away and grabbed John’s hand in his. “You won’t.”
“You…you don’t know that,” John said with a light sob. “If…if I…go back to how I was… If I mess up...”
Bruce squeezed his hand, feeling the soft skin twitch under his fingertips. “I won’t pretend you’re perfect,” he said, honesty seeping through every word, “but I know you, John. I know you’re not going after Crane out of revenge, like you did with Waller. You reached out to me for help – but you were already trying to find a way to stop him without resorting to just stabbing him with the nearest shiv.”
John sniffed, a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth like he was almost smiling. “Yeah…”
“So you’re not the same person you were then, are you?” He soothed with a supportive smile. “Even if you feel you are going backward, I know it won’t be to that same point.”
“Maybe…” he said with another sniff, looking more serious. “But Bruce, you know there are things I can’t ever really stop, right? The auditory psychosis is pretty much going to stay with me the rest of my life,” he started, clutching Bruce’s hand back, “and I’m not going to lie here and pretend my pulse wasn’t pounding a mile a minute when we were fighting those mobsters out there.” He sported a small knowing grin at him. “You know what that’s like, though, don’t you…”
(Yes, he did.)
“…you know what’s funny? I used to think one bad day could turn a person completely upside down.” John managed to stroke his thumb against Bruce’s knuckle, sending a little shiver over the skin, and Bruce wondered if John knew how incredibly intimate that gesture felt as he stared softly at him from the pillow. “Especially after Waller came to town… But…I never really thought things could go back up after it. I guess it just…takes a while.”
Bruce knew there was something right in John’s line of thinking. It only took one day to turn his life on its head, and he felt he knew, despite John having no memory of his life before Arkham, that something similar had happened to him. “Well…they say time heals all wounds.”
“How much passed before yours started to heal?”
He almost didn’t want to answer. The truth was that he wasn’t sure at all if he was ever going to fully heal, despite knowing what his parent’s really were. Maybe it was because he knew the terrible truth about them that they wouldn’t ever heal right. Maybe he’d always have that miserable note in the background of his life.
“…I’m still healing.”
“I didn’t say you stopped, buddy,” John chuckled with a knowing look. “Still…got good days and bad days, huh?”
“Feels like it, yeah.” Today…was definitely more of a mixed day. Looking at John across from him, though, all honest and open, and thinking back to how it felt to fight alongside him again, and investigate with him, with that warmth and instant familiar comfort between that never faded away, he almost felt like he wanted to call it a good day. “Today might have tilted things right-side up.”
John laughed, a genuine, humored one that was almost infectious. “Now I know I’m rubbing off on you; that sounds like something I’d say!”
John slipped his hand away and turned to lie on his back, still chuckling to himself. The warmth still burned in Bruce’s palm, and he found himself reluctant to pull his hand away at all.
John turned to him once more, an all-too-familiar affection shimmering brightly in the green depths. It pulled Bruce in and made him feel like he should inch close enough to feel the warmth and security it promised. “’Night, Bruce.”
“Goodnight, John.”
John turned over, leaving Bruce to stare at the bruises forming on his shoulders. There was the terrible temptation in his hands to shove the pillow between them aside and wrap his arm around the man’s middle so he could lean into that pale, battered back and bury his face in a head of soft, green hair.
There was a worse urge, one so vivid it almost made Bruce’s head spin – he could just reach out and touch the bruises, feather-light, and trail his fingertips down the curve of spine until it arched with a pleased shudder, and Bruce could follow that trail with his mouth as far as John would let him.
Bruce turned his head away, the memory of John’s lips on his coming to the front of his mind, and he shut out the mental image of repeating that kiss right then and there, telling himself that he really shouldn’t feel that way towards someone who desperately needed support, nor to his best friend who he’d left scarred in more ways than one, and certainly not someone who was both.
It had been a long time since Bruce shared a bed with someone, and far, far longer when he shared one with someone he didn’t have sex with.
He hoped that was all it was. Just the bed’s memory getting to him, and nothing else…
Notes:  Super-sexy-plant-person-in-her-late-twenties Ivy is OUT. Cougar-aged-mobster-botanist Ivy is IN! >:) 
I really wanted a different Ivy. I’m tired of the young, uber-sexy walking plant-human-hybrid that’s immune to all toxins and diseases; plants get diseases, too, and she’s so plant-like she should have some kind of physical humanizing weakness! It’s much more interesting to have a human who’s just built up an immunity and uses her babies for weapons and business; I kept her serious environmentalist trait, though, because while I dislike the anti-hero thing she’s got going on lately and would love to see her as a straight-up villain again, we do have to relate to her somehow, and her love of nature is always going to be a good part of her. Since Harley’s older, too, I figured it would be alright if they had a ten-year gap between them, so when Pam eventually goes to Black Gate one day, they’ll be pals. ;)
And Bruce you complete fool!!!! You should’ve kissed him!!!  Why do you do this to yourseellllfff? D:
I'm sorry it took so long, but as you can tell, I had a lot to work on, and I’m doing my best to write the next chapter as quickly as I can while this nutty energy in my brain is still fresh. I’m trying to keep with my weekly schedule, but I hope you guys are okay with having a gap day, as appears to be the habit now. ( ._. ) I mean, no one yells at me or anything for being late, but I aim to please with my work, and part of that is being consistent. 
I shall continue to try my hardest! (*`へ´*) 彡3 See you next weekend!!!
18 notes ¡ View notes