#this time it’s gonna be the ikea cafeteria | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nonhumanresources · 1 year ago

Text

Normalcy

Alright y'all, gonna start posting my writing here I think! Starting off with one of my personal favorite stories. I wrote this one a while back and iirc the ending is rough but it was well over the assignment limit oops so here we are lol. I'll streamline the formatting and such as I go so it's not all this clunky.

Summary: Laney is a dragon, which is a new experience for her. Fortunately, dragons can still operate cell phones, so at least she can tell someone else.

What to expect: dragon post-transformation POV, "how does a giant lizard navigate inside of a household," several questions about glass eyes, government agents, poor choices in drinkware, and a few space werewolves.

Length: 5.6k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laney was a dragon.

That was not normal.

She knew normal, somewhat; it was driving a truck, picking up groceries, sitting with friends, watching TV and complaining about corporations ruining TV then watching it some more, buying cheap meals at the lab cafeteria. Being a dragon was exactly none of those things, last time she checked.

The only light in Laney’s room was the bluish glow of a cell phone, flashing on and off. Shards of glass were all over her head from when she’d tried to stand and slammed a horn directly into the lightbulb. Her tail slapped the ground in frustration as the phone shut off again, leaving her in darkness but for the sickly streetlamp glow behind her curtains.

Laney was a dragon, but she wasn’t panicked. She wasn’t. Things were going to turn out okay, she told herself. Over and over. Just like a not-panicked person would do. Okay, maybe a little more than that, but that was just nervousness. It was understandable to be nervous. If she could just get the dang phone to stay on, then things would be alright. The remains of the bed groaned as she shifted side to side, haunches settling into a slightly more comfortable position, reaffirming the discovery that a small room was not, in fact, that most comfortable place for a dragon to sit.

Rest of the story is in the read more! If you'd prefer to read it in a more convenient fashion, the google drive link is here. As always comments, questions, and thoughts are always appreciated.

Lots of discoveries were coming to light, actually. The aforementioned dragon-in-a-small-room theory; the weight limit on a standard Ikea bed frame (plus mattress and mattress pad); and most distinctly, that dragon claws did not, in fact, work on a modern touch screen device.

Growling came from deep inside her sternum, startling her. Another discovery! Laney was finding out so much - her bosses at the lab would be proud, as long as she wrote it all down, of course.

She shook her head. Being decidedly not panicked was getting distracting. She had to keep focused.

The phone screen illuminated the sharp curve of her snout as her claws, many times bigger than the small device, managed to snag the power button. That was a small success - now she just needed to follow it up. Her tail rose up from its position wrapped around her paws, a quick swipe across the screen bringing up the keypad for entering her password. The tip of her tail worked somewhat with a touchscreen - it just required careful precision to actually push what she wanted.

Laney snagged her tail tip in between two fingers, paw curled awkwardly to accomplish the feat. Caution was key, here. The paw shook as she tried to manipulate her tail into pushing the keypad. Lower… closer….

The top of the screen lit up with a glorious, wonderful 5, and Laney nearly roared in triumph. First success, after half an hour of fruitlessly trying to even reach this point! Next was a four, just a touch to the left….

“Oh, GOD wh—”

Laney was a dragon. She was also speaking English. Needless to say, that was more than a little shocking, and she just about choked on her words, letting out a massive, hacking gag, like an oversized, hissy dog. How did that even WORK?

Wh… whatever. Didn’t matter that an enormous reptile was somehow speaking a human language perfectly; if she could just open her phone and contact the lab, they’d help her. Sure, she was just a delivery driver, but they were working on some pretty advanced stuff - there was bound to be something that could… could help….

Her thoughts stuttered as she glanced back down and realized her phone had shut off.

Another discovery: being a dragon did not, apparently, limit Laney’s use of swear words.

It took another fifteen minutes to get back to the lock screen. Granted, five of those were spent panicking as a sharp crack rang out, then calming down as Laney realized it was just her bed frame, and not the phone. Right now, that was way more important.

She took a deep breath, chest almost ballooning outwards, scales rattling against each other. Laney held it for a moment, surprised, before letting it slip out, whistling between teeth and out the sides of her maw. Being a dragon was so… odd. Or something. Laney realized she’d unconsciously been suppressing her physical feelings, or at least forcing them to the back of her mind. Air trickling over her back as she shifted her wings; the wings themselves, like an extra, unruly pair of arms with a rubber flap; her paws on the carpeted floor; her tail shifting and swaying, soft scales on its underside slithering over the carpet. It was all so alien. Some things were familiar, but even brushing a paw against her front, where she expected to feel something like a hand on a stomach, it felt like her old skin was… stretched over this new shape, brain awkwardly trying to reinterpret nerve signals to fit her narrow view of life.

Laney glanced down at her lifted paw. Its green scales gleamed dully in the almost-darkness. It almost didn’t feel like hers.

She looked downwards and almost punched her tail right through her phone screen as it darkened, about to turn off. Too many distractions; she needed to call someone, now.

Focusing hard, she hunched over her phone intently. Using her tail like a stylus again, Laney managed that first five again, and even the four after it, with little trouble. Nine was next; an accidental six showed up, but she managed to hit the delete button this time, snagging the nine with the softest touch from a scale. Just a two left….

As her phone flashed and took her to the home screen, Laney nearly shrieked with joy. It worked! Finally! She was almost saved! The cellphone app was right at the bottom of her screen - another careful tap, and there was a list of contacts. One swipe, two, all the way down to S - and there was the prize: Stentson Laboratories, Inc. She immediately poked it, sighing with relief.

Luckily for her, although she didn’t realize it, she missed. Her phone displayed a name at the top, and it was decidedly not Stentson Laboratories, Inc. It was Sula Reiner. Laney groaned. Sula was a good friend - and also not who she needed right now. She couldn’t risk hanging up, though - obviously, the less actions on her phone, the better. It would go back to her contacts after the phone call went through; besides, it was nearly two in the morning. There was no way Sula would answer this late, so it was totally safe. She could relax for a moment, and—

“Hello?”

She almost choked on her own tongue, again.

“Laney? Everything alright? It, uh. Definitely sounds like you’re choking.”

“F-fine,” Laney choked out in response, clearing her throat (although it sounded more like a cat hacking up something behind the couch). “I’m fine, not choking.”

Sula laughed, her light voice coming through the speaker with a tinny quality. “Good, good. What’s up, then? You need something? You sound kinda sick”

“I…” What were her options, really? Laney was basically stuck in her room, covered in scales, with nowhere to go, and she couldn’t even operate her phone properly. Calling Sula was a mistake—but having someone else to help out… maybe that would be better. Sula was a pretty open person; maybe she’d be able to do something?

“Uh… yeah. It’s a lot to ask, but can you come over and help me? I’m… well, you’ll see. It’s not a prank or anything, promise.”

“Sure, I’ll be over there in a minute. Need me to bring anything?”

Laney blinked, staring at the phone as if by doing so she could see Sula’s face. “Wait, seriously? Just like that? It’s… I mean, it’s important, but—”

“Oh, yeah, no worries. I’m not getting any sleep anyway, trust me.” Sula sounded conversational, but that was a little odd. She acted as if she was nocturnal or something.

“Okay. There’s a key behind the mailbox on the wall.” Laney felt apprehensive, but the more she thought about it, the more this felt like the best solution.

“Be right there.” Click.

The dragon sighed, settled in, and waited.

—

Sula hummed as she walked through the dark towards Laney’s house. Streetlamps and the odd house light threw molten globs of light in all sorts of shades of yellow out onto the sidewalk. Her and Laney lived closer to the edge of town, in the rural neighborhood where they’d grown up. Sula had the patterns and shapes of the streets ingrained in her memory, the way the straight lines bent around the park and its surprisingly large lake.

Lately, though, she was more used to seeing them at night. It was her element—more so than most college students her age staying up late, working on essays. Their taste of the night came from breezes in windows and fleeting jaunts after sports games and club events. Sula had dove into the night head first, becoming a specter in the fleeting lights, a ghost to the daytime world.

That’s how she liked to think of it, anyway. It was a lot more interesting when she thought of it that way. Not that the truth was boring; it was really quite the opposite. ‘Alien by contract’ was a serious job title, but it wasn’t quite the aesthetic she was going for. Plus, she knew she wasn’t really a ‘specter to the daytime world.’ That implied people seeing her; that hardly ever happened, because most people were sensibly asleep at two in the morning. Not to mention she was wearing her oversized pajama top with a bunch of cute rabbits and a fleece bottom. That kinda took away from the whole specter look

The hum became a whistle—she was a great whistler—that echoed off the garage doors and vinyl siding of the neighborhood. A near-perfect rendition of the opening song to an anime she liked bounced off lawns and doors and into the sky. It petered off, though, as Laney’s house came into sight.

All the lights were off, which wasn’t really unusual for this time of night, but Sula already knew Laney was awake. Maybe she was just in the basement? Her parents were gone for the week on a business trip, so it was just her friend there at the moment. Still, her feet slapped against the pavement a little faster, her hands shaking slightly as they lifted the hanging mailbox away from the wall to snag the key underneath.

Maybe nothing was wrong, and it was just a panic attack, or something? Sula knew Laney’s tendency to clutch her emotions tight like they were birds trying to escape, and when one got away, they all erupted into the air in a storm of tears and feathers.

Yeah, it was probably nothing to worry about.

—

It was definitely something to worry about.

When she heard Sula yelling her name, Laney called out from the bedroom. She crouched down in front of the door, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. Her paws shook - what if Sula….

Stop thinking of what if’s, she commanded herself, gulping a big breath of air and breathing it out slowly. I’m calm. I’m not panicked. I’m calm.

Sula’s ungodly screech upon opening her bedroom door nearly pushed her into being not calm.

“Sula, I—”

“LANEY! ARE YOU IN THERE?!” she screamed over her, hands held up warily, but thankfully not running away yet.

“Yes, I’m—”

“I’M COMING IN THERE!” Sula gritted her teeth, glaring right into Laney’s eyes so fiercely that Laney recoiled, shocked. Was she about to try and fight her? She was… oddly flattered, but no no no this was bad.

“Sula! It’s me! Stop!” Laney’s cries made her friend hesitate.

“I—well yeah, I certainly hope it’s you! I’m gonna come save you from the dragon that’s in your bedroom!” Her voice wavered a little. She was unsure, hovering in the doorway, eyes gleaming. She looked… wild. And the pause was because of Laney’s request, not because of the dragon.

Laney began to question a few things about her friend.

“No, I mean—Sula, I’m the dragon, don’t punch me, okay?” Her voice cracked a little on the word dragon. The smoldering, blue-green heat in Sula’s eyes burst alight into crackling curiosity.

“You’re the dragon?”

“Yes.” Laney hoped she sounded convincing enough.

“And this is… not normal?”

“Of course it isn’t normal, Sula! Are you high?!”

Sula barked out a laugh, to Laney’s chagrin, then put her hands back down to her sides and stepped up to Laney’s snout. “Weird things happen at two AM, dude. For some people this would totally be the opposite of a problem.”

Laney growled. “Doubtful! I can’t see why anyone would view this as anything but directly negative! I can’t even get out of my room!” Something about Sula’s presence kept her talking, as if this were an everyday conversation. Sula did that to everyone, she’d noticed - something about her made it feel like you could let your guard down, for a bit, and talk about whatever weird topic she was obsessed with this week.

“Yeah… this was, uh. Not the greatest place to change, huh?” Sula reached out a hand, hovering it over Laney’s snout. “May I?”

Laney snorted, but nodded. “Obviously not. And sure. Look, I need some serious help.” She felt her muscles tense as Sula’s cold hand lightly ran along the scales on the bridge of her snout, from her nose all the way up between her eyes. She ran her knuckles over it, harder this time, and Laney felt an intense shiver rattle her spine from head to tail. Her scales clicked and clacked lightly against each other like change in a pocket, and she could feel spines bristle across the center of her back. She felt like… how she imagined a cat, or something.

Sula just kept talking as if she didn’t notice Laney’s tail slapping the ground happily (a physical sensation Laney was not feeling emotionally). “Help… yeah. Why’d you call me for it?”

“B-be… becah… S-Sula, ssstop!” She yanked her head up and away from Sula’s hand, who let out a soft eep and stumbled backwards. “I can’t think when you’re doing that, geez… I didn’t mean to call you. You’re just right under the contact for Stentson and I misclicked it with my tail.”

Sula drew in a sharp breath. “Oh. Okay. Thank goodness I’m here and not them.”

“What? What’s wrong with Stentson Labs?” Laney tilted her head, what felt like a natural response to confusion in this form. “You worked there for a month or two last summer - it’s not like they’re THAT bad. Uptight, sure, but….” She trailed off as Sula shook her head.

“Nah. Nah, they’re bad news, Laney. I’d bet a whole lot of money that they were the ones who caused this—and that they’ve got someone sitting at the phone, waiting to pick up when you inevitably call.” Sula sounded… grim. It was unsettling. Laney could feel her scales rising again.

“You… you don’t know what you’re talking about. Just get my phone and, and call them, okay? Please?”

“This happened tonight, right?”

“Sula.”

“So yes, then. And you’re still on delivery duty—what were you delivering?”

“Sula!”

“Something important, then.” Laney stomped a paw, frustrated. Why couldn’t she have less stubborn friends?

“Yes! Fine! I’ll play your game!” Laney snapped, knowing it would be the only way to get Sula off of her tangent. “It was a new experimental compound we were shipping to the military again. It’s a government run lab after all. Probably just some new high-efficiency civilian eliminator. It’s not my job to care about it.”

“Did you like… spill it on yourself, or eat it, or something? Stentson has weird stuff going on behind closed doors, Lan.” Sula using her nickname was uncommon, these days - it was all she’d call her back in high school.

“Yes, Lu. I’m sure. We transported it in one of the freezer boxes. I had to take it out to replace the ice, but it’s not like it spilled—those capsules are air and water tight. I should know, my water bottle is one of the decommissioned ones.”

Sula opened her mouth to respond, then snapped it shut with a clack. “Where’s your water bottle?”

“If I tell you where it is, will you drop the silly idea?” Sula nodded. “Okay. Thank goodness. It’s next to the kitchen sink. I was gonna wash it later.”

Sula slipped out, shoes knocking across the wooden floorboards. She always walked so heavily. Laney’s mom used to tell her that was going to stomp so hard she broke right through the sidewalk one of these days. Well, those days, now.

Sula’s stomping came back in a moment, and she reappeared, illuminated from behind by the hall light, a large, pill-shaped hunk of metal in one hand. “You’re not gonna like this, Lan.” She tapped a finger on the side of the capsule, reading from a label. “3M E.C. (aq). Probably ‘Three molar aqueous Experimental Compound,’ if I had to guess, since scientists aren’t known for creative naming.”

“Give me that!” Laney shifted her weight, holding out a paw. Sula dropped the capsule onto it, and she curled her claws over it, turning it over to read the label herself. 3M E.C. (aq).

Great.

Sula spoke softly. “Did someone do this to you, Lan?”

Laney growled, a deep primal noise. “No.”

“Are you sure…?”

She sighed, nodded, and smacked her head on the ground. “Hopefully that military base appreciates the can of Monster they’re getting in the mail tomorrow.”

—

What a stupid mistake. Laney knew she hadn’t been getting enough sleep, but a slip up this bad could have cost her her life! Drinking out of random laboratory containers—aargh, just thinking about it made her want to slap her past self.

Sula was sitting against her side, humming. Laney’s declaration had caused her to burst out laughing, to which Laney politely requested she shut up for a minute and let her deal with this. Sula apologized and politely did so.

It was just… this mistake might have actually cost her life, in a different way. Laney was officially some sort of lab mutant now, ripe for experimenting on. She knew better than to believe sci-fi movies - she wasn’t going to be immediately dissected or something. That was a token comfort, though, against the reality that she would be locked in a secret lab (which were very much real) and run through test after test after test. More than likely to develop a weapon. That was one thing that sci-fi got right: the US was always looking for another weapon.

More than anything, she just felt… stupid. Her wings drooped on either side, trailing over her ruined bedroom’s floor, and even her tail had stopped moving. She had laid flat on the ground “to pout,” according to Sula.

Sula’s humming stopped. “May I speak now?”

Laney took a deeeeeep breath, in and out. “Permission granted.”

“Nice!” Sula pushed herself off of Laney’s enormous side and up to her feet. “You’re suuuper warm, by the way. I dunno if you can breathe fire, but I’d believe it. Now,” she said, walking over to Laney’s snout, hands on her hips. “Up! Let’s go!” Laney rolled her eyes.

“Where are we going?” she drawled.

“The park!” Sula sounded much too eager about this. What was she trying to do?

“I’m not going to the park when I can’t even make it out of the doorway.” Laney tried to make her words sound as dully disinterested as possible.

“You’re a lot longer than you are tall, Lan. Besides—I’m helping!”

“How.”

Sula winked, and Laney rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say that you’re lucky you called me instead of Stentson.”

“Look, Sula, I appreciate you coming over. I really, really do. But I don’t see how—”

“I’m a werewolf.”

Sula talked over her. Like, actually, honest-to-god just interrupted her mid sentence. She never did that. Not only that—it was also nonsense.

“Sula. Don’t.”

“Lan, you gotta stop being so dreary.”

“Sula, my whole body and life just got upended!”

She had the audacity to shrug. “You get used to it after the third or fourth time.”

“Stop trivializing this!” Laney growled again, the sound rattling hollowly through her throat and chest, powerful and menacing. She started to push herself to her feet - then ground to a halt as something large and furry slapped down on her snout with a wet plap!

Sula tried to keep talking conversationally, but Laney could hear the grin in her voice. “It’s contractual, but it totally wasn’t the first time—”

“Damn it Sula, what the—”

“It’s a pretty nice gig, really—”

“Sula what the ACTUAL hell is on my face?!”

“It’s my paw!” Laney could see where the fur thinned and lead into Sula’s regular, definitely human arm.

“It’s your—SULA. EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW. WHERE IS THIS FROM AND WHY IS IT SOAKING WET.” Laney had to force the words out gruffly, one at a time. This was too much. This… no. What was even going ON?

“I told you. Werewolf. Full shapeshifting, the whole jazz. Plus, I’m an alien werewolf, which is even cooler.” Sula pulled her paw back, revealing glowing green pads on her palm as it quickly turned back into an underwhelming human hand.

“Alien… excuse the hell out of me?” It was gibberish. Nonsense. She was crazy. Laney was stuck as a dragon with her insane friend. Or she herself was crazy. Because that was so… so absolutely, utterly, undeniably dumb.

“It’s awesome,” Sula stated.

—

“Let me—urf—get this straight,” Laney grunted, chest tight as her hind claws scrabbled against the wall of her bedroom, trying to push her sideways through the doorway. It was the only direction her shoulders could hope to fit.

“Go ahead,” Sula replied, splayed out like a starfish over Laney’s back on the other side of the wall, keeping her wings tucked in tight.

“You got abducted and turned into an alien… wolf… squid… thing.” Laney let out a yelp as the shoulder on bottom caught against the doorframe, forcing her to scoot backwards and wrangle it back into position.

“Correct.” Sula’s head poked through the doorway, around the bulk of her shoulders and chest. “Call me a specter of the night, if you so please.” Laney threw a derisive glance at her cheeky smile, and Sula took the hint, popping back into place.

“And the aliens were… rouge scientists.” Gods above, that sounded stupid every time.

“Correct again.” Sula shoved at Laney’s body, succeeding in helping her get one arm through. That was progress.

“So you made a contract with them.” Laney bucked herself upwards and slid the arm through, collapsing onto her side, panting, her whole upper body successfully extricated.

“Yep. Taught them the concept of a long term study, and then offered to participate if they stopped kidnapping people.” She slipped her head back through the doorway again. “It sounds way more noble than it actually is. I just can’t stand bad science.”

That was something Laney understood. They were both STEM majors, and she was just as frustrated by malpractice as Sula. Laney, however, was not insane like her friend apparently was.

Stay calm. No big emotions. They’ll get away from you.

Deep breath. OW wait okay maybe not that deep - she nearly snapped a rib pushing it against the doorframe. She skittered forwards like some sort of awkward crab. Luckily, the hallway split halfway down - if she maneuvered her top half into the split, she could pull her hips and legs through despite their awkward shape, then maybe… pull her top half back, bunch up like a worm, and she was home free. Or free from home, rather. The back of the house had a sliding glass door - it opened wide enough to carry a table through, and was, by extension, wide enough for a dragon. Perhaps not the intended use, but she wasn’t about to complain.

“And now… grk… we’re heading to their lab. Which is a giant fish-spaceship.”

“The Fiship, yeah.” Laney groaned, and Sula giggled somewhere near her tail. “Love calling it that.”

Laney shook her head. “Stupid….” Pulling herself forwards another few feet, she bent her upper body into the L of the hallway, her head pressed upside down against the floor. She was pleased to find that pulling her legs through the door was the one easy task she’d had all night, although she felt like a yoga instructor. While steadying herself after both hind paws made it through, Sula left the bedroom, skirting the wall beside the lengthy dragon.

“I’m gonna go make a path, move anything breakable.” Laney nodded, and Sula placed a hand against her neck, letting it slide along her scales until she was too far away and it slipped off.

They’d been friends since either one could remember. Laney and Sula, or Lan and Lu, or Loony and Sucker, depending on who you asked in middle school. Laney remembered her dad always saying he was shocked they stuck together - he could never tell if they were fighting or not, he said. In fifth grade, Sula called it their “forever-bond” and refused to explain what that meant. Sula’s parents encouraged it, even as Laney’s were skeptical, but neither one could disagree on the positive impact this weird child was having on their poor, shy little thing. Everyone tried to explain the friendship between the two seemingly incompatible children.

Sula never referred to her as a poor little anything. That was good enough an explanation for Laney. She was a chemist, not a psychologist.

Inching her way down the hall, trying not to scratch the paint on either side, Laney was surprised to see Sula before she heard her. Before she could comment on that, though, Sula held a finger to her lips and gestured behind her.

“We got company,” she whispered.

“Stentson?” Laney asked. Sula gave her a thumbs up. “Oh, great….”

“Listen—I’ll distract them.” Sula looked more scared about that than she had facing an actual dragon earlier. “You get yourself outside. Go through the Black’s backyard and turn right, it’s the fastest way to the park, if you shortcut through the irrigation ditch next to Teddy Morris’s house.” Laney was surprised by the detailed instructions, but nodded affirmatively.

“Got it. Stay safe.” What she wanted to say was Thank you, please don’t get hurt, this is my fault, I’m so sorry.

Sula kissed her palm and planted it on Laney’s snout, gave another thumbs up, smiled in a way that crinkled her blue-green eyes, staring back into Laney’s—oh. She… didn’t know her eye color anymore.

She blinked, and Sula was already heading back up the hallway as the front door rang with three sharp knocks. Laney had a sneaking suspicion that somehow, Sula knew exactly what she was thinking, and had already accepted and forgiven her apology. That girl….

Laney let a shiver run from her snout to her tail, letting herself feel her form again, for a moment. Sides brushing the wall as she breathed in and out. Long, forked tongue that picked up the taste of the air. Eyes that pierced every shadow. Powerful muscles flexing and relaxing under her scaled hide. Long, sinuous tail curling and uncurling.

As soon as another, louder knock hit the front door, Laney began to move.

—

Sula faked a yawn and tugged open the door with the slow, contemplative weight of someone who wasn’t always awake at three in the morning.

Cars with lights pointed at the front of the house lined the driveway and road. A man, dressed in a military uniform of some sort, a pair of dark sunglasses on his face, stood stock still on her porch, left hand rest near a hip holster. Sula could see the puff of a bulletproof vest under his shirt.

“Yyyeah? Wuzzat?” she mumbled, eyes half-lidded. The soldier looked her up and down.

“This is the Geralt residence?” he said in short, clipped syllables. It wasn’t a question. Sula let herself ponder what must be going through this man’s mind - stalling, and acting like a tired, mussy-haired student.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh! Uh. Think so, yeah.” Sula’s drunken slur was a direct opposite to the sharply-spoken man.

“You… think so,” he said, raising an eyebrow, hand drifting away from the holster. Good. Sula wasn’t worried about getting shot—the xenocanids had solutions for that sort of thing. She was more worried about Laney’s parents coming home to bullet holes in the walls.

“Thas’ wha’ I said, yeh?” She swayed against the door, clutching it, and spoke again as soon as the man opened his mouth. She saw his eyes crinkle with displeasure under the sunglasses. “Pretty sure, at least. Was las’ time I checked. I can go ask, if ya want…?”

Shades shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Are you Laney Geralt?”

Sula shook her head. “Why would I be a Geralt? Sssay… wha’s with those shades, anyway? Moonlight too bright for ya?” She hiccuped and giggled, then—hearing the sound of something getting knocked over—broke into a full laugh. Shades tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for her to finish. Finally, wiping her eyes dramatically, she sighed and fell silent.

“If you must know,” Shades said, voice abrasive and irritated, “these are prescription. As it turns out, some people are judgemental about my lazy eye.”

“Oh.” Huh. Sula had figured it was just some sort of… intimidation tactic. “Ssorry, dude. You c… considered surgery? I h-HIC-heard there was a good one developed lae’ly.”

Shades tilted his mouth in a curious frown. “Wait, really? Where do they…” he seemed to catch himself, straightening back up and clearing his throat. “If you’re not a Geralt, what are you doing in their house?”

Sula heard the unmistakable sound of a sliding glass door slipping closed. Anyone in the neighborhood would have recognized it. She grunted, putting on a look of feigned surprise.

“Y… oh, you know what? You’re totally right. I don’t live here. My bad.”

And she slammed the door closed in Shades’ face.

—

Laney paced back and forth on the lakeshore, not caring who saw her. Where was Laney? She’d been waiting for over fifteen minutes. Which didn’t sound like a lot, but she was tired and stressed and NOT PANICKEDand it felt much longer than fifteen minutes, alright?

A splash in the water behind her. Laney spun, growling, and watched as a figure emerged from the water. “Sula?”

The only reply was garbled nonsense.

“L… Laney, don’t mess with me.”

“Grrrlllbrbb,” went the figure.

“I WILL bite you!” Laney yelled, backing up as four glowing green eyes opened along the creature’s vaguely canid face, fins framing it on either side. Its form was shambling and awkward on land, feet hardly more than two masses of tentacles, paws glowing and grasping, hunched over, odd looking tendrils curling from its back.

“Bbbllrbbb,” was her reply.

Laney was about to make a break for it when she heard Sula’s voice calling out. She whipped her head around, hissing, still stumbling backwards away from the monstrosity.

“WHERE WERE YOU?” Laney nearly roared, dragon lungs panting and huffing, smoke pouring from her nostrils. So I can breathe fire, then….

Sula ran out of the treeline, towards Laney and the monster. “Sorry, I had to give a bunch of grunts the slip!” She stopped and smiled that constant smile of hers once she was a few feet away. “And I see you’ve already met Nthrya!”

“Nith-what?” Laney growled, glancing at the monster, which had stopped in place. It was… waving at Sula. “You know this thing?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, it’s Nthrya.” The word came out strange and hissing. It sounded like ‘nith-ri-a’ to Laney, which meant jack squat.

“What is a nith-ra?” Laney questioned. Sula wasn’t listening, though - she was staring at the monster, who was garbling at her.

“Nah, she’s not a normal creature. Yeah, that’s why you haven’t seen her. Yes, she’s a she.” It was like a one sided conversation, interspersed with garbling nonsense. “Yeah. Yes. Oh, yeah, it’s good to see you too! Look, Nthrya - we’re in a hurry. Can I bring her on the ship? I’ll explain it. Please? Yeah, you can.” Sula clapped her hands and turned to Laney. “That’s that, then!” She paused at the blank look on the dragon’s face.

“Oh, I forgot you, uh. Can’t speak their language.” She rubbed an arm sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Laney said dryly.

“Yeeeah. Well, he said you can spend some time on the ship, and they’ll work on a way to help us out. It’s even docked right now!” Sula pointed at the lake, which was very clearly empty.

“...Sula.”

“Oh! Sorry. Uh, these guys see in a different spectrum - the ship is pretty much invisible to you, but it’s right there saying hello for us. Just, uh….” She walked to the lakeshore, then out onto the water, floating above it. “Here, I’ll just guide you in.”

Well. It’s not the weirdest thing to happen tonight.

Laney was standing halfway on an invisible fin before a thought struck her.

“Wait, Sula, you can turn into one of those… things?”

Sula’s grin was as expected as it was cheesy. “I’ll show you sometime. It’s super gross.”

Laney couldn’t help but give a weak smile back, her emotions starting to cave in. She was gonna break down and cry, she thought.

At least Sula was here to let her.

“I’m sure it is,” she said, taking a deep breath and pushing forwards into the Fiship.

Laney was a dragon.

And that wasn’t normal. But it was alright, for the moment.

#writing wyrms #transformation #dragon #dragon tf #writing #fic #post tf #space woofers #sula reiner #laney #she doesn't get a last name <3 #I need to beef up these tags to get more readers tbh #I sincerely apologize #my writing #my stuff

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thesoggiestboyintown · 1 year ago

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RTC incorrect quotes but it’s just my shit texts

noel gruber:

“guess who set their shoe on fire”

“theater kids are the reason global warming exists”

“i feel like a couple who’s always on the brink of divorce but pretends to be in a happy marriage “

“in my on the verge of divorce era”

“have we as a community considered kissing my ass”

“lord strike me down and give me an std”

mischa bachinski:

“sometimes i think and then i cry”

“i’m so bored i’m going to rob the school cafeteria just for shits and giggles”

“cute date idea ! rob a bank and makeout in the employee room of a Walmart <3”

“i want to punt a toad “

“update i’m planning someone’s funeral”

“give head pls”

“about to rob an ikea what do u want”

“i hope she explodes”

“i want to meet a smurf and then drown it”

“i’m going to steal a kid off the street just to feel something”

“time to take out the shot glass”

ricky potts:

“how to become zolarian cat”

“what if i just throw a dog into a freezer”

“how do i turn into a rubix cube”

“i’m such a deceitful snake”

“why is luigi so submissive and breedable”

“my personality is a sad star with a little hat that says ass licker”

“my emotional support teacher isn’t here yet i’m going to swallow a cat whole”

“what if i just grabbed a cat and never gave it back”

“what if i swallow a bell”

constance blackwood:

“is breast milk diary free”

“how do i turn into a rubix cube”

“i sometimes forget that you’re an only child”

“she’s like obsessed with me (she has a crush on a boy)”

“if there’s a screen, ao3 will be seen. [insert picture of ao3 home screen on a Nintendo switch]”

“when ur so stupid you get shocked when your manipulative ex manipulates u again when u give her another chance”

“someone nut tapped superman”

“Is it safe to drink bleach”

“How to get rid of hickies”

“Yes actually, when I was gender fluid I grew a penis when I felt masc”

“Lord give me strength”

“NO I KEEP FIGHTING THOSE DEMONS”

jane doe:

“the lives of erasers and rubber have come to me, begging for mercy. for a chance at life and peace. to experience the beautiful presence of true joy. but they forget mercy is earned through patience and worship. so they instead left with bruises of pure agony and despair. stories to keep their children and their childrens children cautious of who they bow to.”

“sad pyromaniac at its best tbh”

“i just disassociated while setting fire to my shoe”

“Oh ye I go by they/them now because fuck gender :]”

“i he!r t.H3 scrm,,s o’’f @lL m”y vctms b..egg!ng fr me t stp :3”

“!! i c,,Vt of d0!!$ h3aD ..!!”

“!! į w!lł t3!! th,, v0ics t0 nøt hVrt ÿ0ū >~<“

“i’m gonna eat someone’s eyeballs for a snack”

“stfu therapist i’m literally just being dramatic”

“about to suck someone’s soul wish me luck”

“what’s stopping me from eating babies”

“i’m in ur floor boards”

“i’ve been stuck with theater kids for like 3 hours save me”

“insanely hot (take away “ly hot”)”

“i don't eat food, i consume personalities snacks? no. souls.”

“I WANNA EAT PLAY DOUGH SO BADLT I FORGOT HOE TO SPEL PLAYFOOUGH”

“i say i'm fine but i'm reality i feel like a black hole is eating my stomach”

“ya know sometimes my brain sounds like velcro

kdithigigifixgxggc”

“wdym i cant commit crimes who's gonna stop me”

“was told i could drink bleach so if i start internally bleeding tonight don't ask questions”

#mischa ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone noel #saint cassian choir rtc #constance rtc #jane doe #ricky potts #non binary jane doe #trans ricky potts #help me i can’t stop thinking of them #this is a cry for help #help help help #they’re all so hot #they’re so me #i’m so normal about them

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no-nightingales-iwanttodie · 1 year ago

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I'd like to tell you about the first time I went to an ikea alone.

I've only been in an ikea a few times in my life (even tho I'm kinda Swedish) and that was when I was like 4 or smth with my mom. When I moved out last year i moved really close to an ikea and planned a little outing for myself to just explore ikea. See what they had to offer and if it really was as confusing as the internet people say.

I went in, and was already confused. How did I enter the actual store? Oh apparently some weird escelators that was just there in the middle of everything. Alright then.

I go up and I just start walking. Looking around, but not too much cause I don't actually need anything, just scoping out anything I could potentially buy when I had the money for it.

I was texting my best friend the whole time, she was a regular so she knew her way around the store. I did not.

There's toilets on the wall, beds floating and random rooms just constructed in the store.

After I got over cultural shock after cultural shock and almost an hour of walking, I found the cafeteria. I have a lot of family in Sweden so all the food was very familiar to me and I bought something to eat and sat down while pondering how to get out.

I finished the good food and started my quest: get out

How young and naive I was thinking it would be easy. This is when my agony truly started.

I found the elevators and descended, the doors opened and-

Lo and behold there was more fucking stuff.

Here I started panicking a bit. Would I ever get out?

When I got to the light room - literally a room full of lamps and nightlights and whatever your heart desires of illumination - my head started hurting and I got dizzy. Could it be the lights? Or was I turning into an employee. Was that how you got to work for ikea? You get lost and slowly start sprouting uniforms and name tags and the Swedish language seeped into you? If that's the case, it wasn't comforting because I already speak Swedish. My transformation process was slower. I had to get out, now.

Finally I found myself in a calming room. The plant section. It was vast and I wanted every single plant in that room and to take it home and care for it but alas, I am poor.

At this point i had been in there for almost 3 hours and was starting to lose all sense of time, space and self.

I was getting ready to fight some motherfuckers to claim one of the rooms upstairs.

After another half hour, I found the storage room. It was a room fit for the gods of Valhalla. But I am no god, the sight of the place alone was frightening to a common person like me. I was sure my eyes were gonna explode in a rain of blue and yellow.

The relief was visible on my face when I finally found the check out stand. I walked past as I had not bought anything, but my troubles didn't end there. More food. Oh god. Lord please show mercy and let me escape this building before it is too late.

I swallowed my pride and shyly approached a fellow employee. I say fellow, because I knew my time was almost up - I only had minutes left.

They pointed to some doors a long way away from me, I thanked them and hurried over there.

I walked past the doors, hoping to see daylight. Or moonlight. I didn't care as long as I was out.

I wasn't.

The were several doors behind the door I entered. Where did I go? Where was I? Who was I?

I was in a fully panicked state by now and was looking around erratically - in a frenzy.

I ran out of the doors that my gut told me to run out of. I saw the escelators. I saw the doors.

Back at the beginning.

I took cautious steps, I had learned by now that not everything was as it seemed.

The doors opened and the smell of fresh air and cars flooded me.

I was out.

My legs were shaking as I almost ran from the place without looking back. I made it home.

I thought my nightmares were over but no... My aunt wanted me to buy some shoehorns for her.

I timed my experience as I ran through the store the second time, all I had to do was follow the arrows.

The first time took me 4 hours.

The second time took me an hour.

My friend found joy in my suffering.

But the teddy bears were really cute

#Ikea #Lost in ikea #shit post #I was terrified #I went back with some friends and we spent like 5 hours in there #But I got some cute ass Pillows and cacti #Screenshots #Funny

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pocket-mobster · 2 years ago

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just realized that the reason why ikea is sweden-themed is because it's a swedish company. like i knew that, but somehow it never clicked that Ikea is just a normal store in sweden. no one's like "time to go to the furniture store that's inexplicably themed after my country"; they're just like "time to go to the furniture store (which i'm aware is based in my country, but that fact isn't something i actively think about cuz it has no bearing on my life)".

and that should intuitively make sense. if i went to an american furniture store with a cafeteria that served american food, i'd never think of it as the america-themed furniture store. but i'd imagine if they had that same store in another country, that's all it'd be known for.

anyway this is all cuz i saw an ikea ad in swedish, and literally my first thought was "ok i think they're taking the swedish thing a bit too far". i think i'm gonna lie down for a very long time now.

#ipj speaks #im in the stupid zone and i hate it here #i saw that tiktok about nordic parents giving their kids The Ikea Bags and i was like 'but theres no way real swedish people go to ikea'#like it just seemed made-up. like if an australian told me they liked outback steakhouse id think they were a narc #like sure i like mcdonalds but id never say that out loud; much less on a publicly viewable webpage

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batsandbugs · 2 years ago

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Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System Chapter 3

IKEA Verse

A/N: The author shows up a month and a half late, with Starbucks: S'up, here's 7500 words of pure chaos. Feast! Y'all are the best, thank you for the amazing comments in the last chapter. I love seeing your excitement for this crazy little world I've created. I have a new fic that I'll be adding eventually, called: "The Stalking of Daminette: A Treatise by Steph and Cass" it's still in its baby stage, so we'll see how long that grows before I post. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it because I have not started on the next part and I'm moving in less than a month, so maybe the next chapter will be out sometime in October, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bruce narrows his eyes and pins his children with an unimpressed stare. “What did you do?

“He was totally willing!” Dick insists with an innocent grin.

“Coercion.”

“Manhandling.”

Dick’s grin disappears evilly side-eyeing his brothers. “Both of you suck at being back up.”

“He didn’t want to at first,” confesses Tim. “But they held my computer hostage to convince me to agree.” Tim rubs a hand over the top of his laptop in a soothing manner. “So, I stole all his knives so he couldn’t stab us, while Jason and Dick wrangled him into the car.”

“Little demon was spittin’ nails, but we persuaded him not to throw himself out the car, so he was trapped.”

“By the time we arrived, I convinced them how a game of hide-and-seek would be a fun, non-disastrous way to spend time together,” says Dick, his face one of ruined hopes and dreams.

“Mostly through bribes, blackmail, and calls to our innate competitiveness,” says Tim.

“Dickie kept the keys so none of us could leave, and declared himself seeker first,” Jason continues. “He found me-"

"In the food court," says Dick.

"Then Replacement-"

"At the Starbucks."

"Didn't even get to have that coffee," grumbles Tim.

"So we joined forces and decided to search for Damian together. We spent an hour chasing him in circles. Swear I almost caught him too.”

Tim scoffs, “Yeah no, he had us good. We had no clue where he was.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up Tim.”

“You shut up,” Tim shoots back.

“Boys…” warns Bruce, already regretting bringing all three of them into this sitrep.

“Okay, so he evades us long enough to team up with a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng-” starts Tim.

Jason growls a bit. “Lying bitch.”

“Jason…” Dick sighs but doesn’t refute the insult. This only serves to deepen Bruce’s headache which now strongly veers out of the I-am-not-mentally-or-emotionally-prepared-for-this category and straight into Ongoing-dumpster-fire territory.

This was fine.

Jason slams a fist on the table. “She lied to my face multiple times! She said she was hired to poison Tim and Damian in order to steal Tim’s phone and if I didn’t find them in time, they were gonna die from brain damage!”

Bruce blinks. Did he hear that right? “Sorry, what?”

Tim sighs. “Okay, rewind, so Damian evading us like the little assassin he trained to be, hooks up with Marinette, who, as far as my research shows, is a civilian-”

“Yeah right, girlie ain’t a civilian. No way, not in a million years.”

“Shut up Jason, let Tim talk,” snaps Dick.

“She lied to Jason about where Damian was, and between her initial meeting with Jason and the incident in the food court, about an hour passed. Then she appeared in the cafeteria with Damian’s card, how we tracked her there in the first place. She panicked when she saw us and used her magic on the shelves in the warehouse to cause a diversion-”

“She crushed a fucking forklift, and we got blamed and billed for it.”

‘How?’ Bruce thinks in despair. Not over the money, of course. They had more than enough to cover costs, just in the general sense of incredulity. One would think, after being Batman this long, it would inoculate Bruce from bewilderment at all types of situations.

It has not.

Tim shakes his head. “No, I proved we had nothing to do with that."

‘Oh well isn’t that grand?’

"Didn’t manage to pin anything on her either considering how much electrical interference occurred whenever she performed magic, but we don’t have to pay.”

“Magic doesn’t cause electrical interference,” Bruce reminds them. “Not unless it completely breaks the system in the process.” All three boys – men really, his kids all grown up now, even if they pulled stupid shit like this – turn to him. Identical expressions of contemplation played over their faces.

“Shit, you’re right,” mutters Dick.

“Well, her magic does,” counters Tim, his brow creasing heavily, grasping past the sleepy, foggy haze that comes with being awake for three days straight. Grabbing a notepad he jots down the observation. “Her magic doesn’t obey any rules we know to be true.”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Jason sneers. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m still on the fence about whether she enchanted Damian though. On one hand, demon-spawn shouldn’t be capable of smiling that much, and he defended her, deferred to her, fucking used her first name without blinking an eye. That ain’t natural for him. On the other hand, she’s the same brand of demented as he is, and maybe they want to be horrible little demons together.”

“I…” starts Dick before trailing off, his face flickers through a series of emotions. Mostly fragile hope, pragmatic disbelief, and good heaping of uncertainty.

“See, Golden Boy, even you can’t say this is a good thing!”

“He made a friend?” Dick offers with a pained wince.

“She’s a psychopath!”

Bruce cuts off the argument. As much as he would love to hear more in-depth detail about Damian’s newest… acquaintance, he wants a clearer picture of what happened at the store before he judges the situation. “Boys, behave. Tim, please continue.”

Tim nods. “Okay, so Marinette escapes the warehouse, and we track her back to their entry point into the vent system. We split up to cover more ground, I take the warehouse and keep myself from the worker’s sight but close enough to the vent I could spot them exiting. About forty-five minutes later they set me on fire-”

“Wait,” interrupts Bruce. “Fire? FIRE?”

Tim looks at him like he’s being particularly slow. “Uh, yeah, I said that a time or two now, keep up. To be fair, the fire was more around me. But I did end up singed.” He shows his arm sleeve again, and the singeing on the sleeve takes on a whole new meaning.

“I wasn’t sure what happened at the time, I expected to catch the little twerps, not engage in guerilla warfare. So, understandably, I’m off my game. The security guard dragged me into the office, and I’m ready to call for backup, only to find my phone missing. I talk down the manager in the warehouse, but then he yells at these poor workers. And Bruce, they were kids, couldn’t be more than fifteen, working in this busy warehouse with no clue about any rights they had, and then after the manager became… distracted I conversed with the other workers, and-”

Tim’s one-breath ramble was swiftly cut off by Jason. “Yeah, yeah you caused a worker’s strike through the power of charisma and rhetoric. So original. No one else in the world’s history has ever done that. Can we get back to the French bitch tricking me?”

Tim huffs, crossing his arms. “You can continue then because I wasn’t part of that.”

“Cool, I will. So, there I wait at my post, and it’s been like an hour and a half at this point. Timmy finally calls, but it’s not actually him it’s the French girl. She’s actin’ like a paid assassin slash company spy, and says she poisoned Tim and Damian through tricking them into eatin’ poisoned coffee and shit.”

“And you believed that?” Bruce asks. Jason glares at him with piercing green-blue eyes, and although his second son puts off an air of anger and annoyance, it’s a mask for a deep-seated fear that his brothers were genuinely in danger. That he would be too slow, too late to save them, like what happened to-

Jason flippantly shrugs his shoulders, years of practiced reticence covering his care. “With our craptastic luck, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any chances. So, I go chasin’ and-”

“~It’s a trap~,” Tim gloats in a sing-songy voice, his grin wide and eyes unfocused. He’s going to crash soon, it’s just a matter of time.

“Shut up, you ended up set on fire and pickpocketed. You have no leg to stand on.” Tim rolls his eyes but slouches back in his chair. “So, it’s a trap, and demon-spawn is waitin’ there with one of those tricked-out trip wires Timmy made. He and Frenchie wrapped me up good, taunted me, and stripped me taking my wallet and phone. Bitch also took my knife. I insult the brat, and he fires back, but before he does anything else Marinette pulls him back and tells him to simmer down and he does.” Jason’s wide eyes drip with incredulity and, quite frankly, a little awe.

“I see,” Bruce says, a fake calm surrounding his words. He really didn’t. They were talking about Damian. Bruce loves his only biological son, he truly does. He loves Damian’s sketches, and care for animals, he loves his dedication to sword mastery and sly humor. The way his son has the same wrinkle crease between his eyes Bruce gets, and that Thomas did before them. The similarity soothes a small part of Bruce’s aching soul. He’s ridiculously proud of all the work and effort Damian went through, put himself through, to become a better person. To overcome the trauma his upbringing caused and come out stronger.

That being said, Damian was still arrogant, stubborn, and quick-tempered. He considered his opinions and plans more highly than others, and unless one could give a quick and compelling explanation as to an alternative option, he would be proceeding with his plan with efficiency; damn anything else standing in his way. Damian spared no sympathy to the average person and even less for fools.

This behavior was extremely out of character for him.

Which made the entire situation ring with alarm.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you do,” he says, calling Bruce’s lie out. “You’re gonna need to see it to really understand. Anyway, they leave me there for the police to find me, and the wire’s wound on tight, so I’m still struggling to get them off when security finds me ten minutes later.” Jason smirks. “Now those idiots had no clue who they were dealing with, and they loosened the wire round my legs, cause they sure as hell couldn’t carry me. By the time we reached the car I was out of the bonds and knocked one out and escaped from the other. Fat-ass bastard.”

“Language,” Bruce reminds him. Jason flips him off.

“Fine, the heavy-set bastard. Better?”

Bruce sighs. “Not really.”

“I scale the building, figuring the store entrances would be monitored. They had a nice handy dandy human-sized ventilation shaft up there - no wonder with the place’s fucking size - so, I shimmy down-”

“Like Santa,” Tim giggles, well past bordering on a manic state, and instead moved well into the capital of it.

The comment doesn’t appear to have fazed Jason though, who takes another long sip of his alcohol-soda mixture. “And like Santa, I have a knack for toys. I emerge out of a vent in the children’s toy area and snag myself a nerf gun.”

Sharp pain blooms on the side of Bruce’s neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face though. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good at the time, ya know?”

Bruce mentally counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and says, “Sure.”

“So, I head towards the play area to find Dick, because obviously, Replacement was a lost cause.”

“Geeze thanks, Jason.”

“But before I can get there, I spot Demon Spawn constructin’ a wacky ass Rube Goldberg contraption-”

Dick winces. “I saw the remains when I chased after Marinette. It was initially meant for me.”

“You were chasing the girl?”

Dick pouts. “She stole my phone!”

“Wait, so a civilian pickpocketed all of you?”

“She was quick,” mutters Tim.

Jason raises a finger. “She didn’t technically pickpocket me, she frisked me after tying me up. I was fully aware of the stealing.”

Bruce reminds himself that he can’t strangle his children. He. Can’t. Strangle. His. Children. ��I plan to make all of you go through awareness training, again. A civilian!?”

“Still not convinced,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“I don’t care she certainly hasn’t trained with assassins and spent half her life mastering stealth and deception. I expect better from you all.” All three men mutter in acquiescence, to the extent that they would do better. “Continue.”

Jason’s demureness fades to be replaced with a gleeful grin. “Yeah, there wasn’t much left of the trap after I jumped the little bastard. I started shooting-”

“Jason…” Bruce’s headaches gain a specific twinge of exhaustion whenever Jason becomes involved. It’s a talent he possessed since the day Bruce found him hi-jacking the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason’s hands go up in defense. “With the nerf gun, chill Bruce I ain’t trying to contribute to America’s public shooting crisis. I wouldn’t take a loaded gun into a shopin’ center unless crazies were already causin’ chaos.”

“I’d prefer you not to use guns at all.” It’s a pointless request, but maybe one day Jason would cede to it.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, you’re still gunna lose that one pops. I got a rep to maintain.”

Bruce reigns in a sigh. Expected.

“Anyway, everythin’ was fine, I’d managed to dismantle their little trap for ya, you’re welcome,” he says with a pointed glance at Dick.

His eldest crosses his arms, and with a total deadpan stare, replies, “Thanks, Jason.”

“But then a security guard interfered after I knocked down a display or two.”

“So, you strung him up and gagged him?” Dick asks voice rising into the hysterical range.

Bruce now understands why Tim looks exhausted, dealing with the fallout from a situation this unhinged for the past forty-eight hours.

“No, I didn’t do that. Demon spawn already set the rig, waitin’ for you. The guard tripped it.” He pauses, cheese-covered chip in hand. “Although I did add the gag, he was shoutin’ too much and grabbin’ attention. It only took a second, but by the time I turned back, Damian had shot off like a rocket.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the target,” chides Tim, with a smug little grin.

Jason’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green. “Fire.”

“Shut up.”

“Boys…” Bruce warns.

“Fine, fine,” Jason mutters, as he takes another sip of his drink. “I chase him through the store and he’s barely keepin’ ahead of me. I keep shootin’ at him. Newer nerf guns have a range and a surprising amount of ammo. Bastard didn't even look inconvenienced; he takes a fucking phone call at one point.”

“That was when I was chasing Marinette and we found the remains of their plan,” Dick interrupts. “She panicked with the sprung trap and called someone, but I couldn’t hear a word.”

“Yeah, he jumps off the call when I manage a shot at his head, and I’m close enough to have him in reach. Unfortunately, he ducked into the employee-only entrance. We weave through security rooms and offices and shit, and of course, causin’ chaos there.”

“He was right there, and yet somehow, we’re the only ones banned,” mutters Tim.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Pretty sure I saw him dump a pot of coffee on-” Tim groans in frazzled distress. “Bad Timbo, you can’t have any more caffeine until you take a goddamn nap!”

Tim slouches into the solid wood dining chair. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”

“Tim you can’t have any more caffeine until you sleep,” Bruce says.

Jason grins, sticking his tongue out at Tim, while Tim only glares and mutters something under his breath about ‘killjoys’ and ‘he’ll show them tired’ and Bruce really doesn’t want to see the result of that decision. This needs to wrap up soon. For both Tim’s sake, and his own as his headache has moved from Hassles-have-evolved-into-ongoing-dumpster-fires to Information-overload-caused by-dumbass-decisions-please-reboot-system.

“I get tangled in an office jam – literally, there were cords involved and by the time I scramble out of it, Damian’s already through a door and down a hallway. I haven’t a clue which way he’s gone, so I pick a direction and gun it because security is on my tail and there ain’t time to waste. I head down a hallway and lock the doors behind me to give me a second of breathing room. Then I spot the intercom system.”

“I wondered how you got close enough to use that,” Dick muses.

“I wondered what they did to piss you off so bad,” Tim adds.

Dick nods. “Same.”

“Yeah, so I call out Demon Spawn and French Bitch over the intercom, and I know they both must have panicked, but the guards broke through the locked doors, so I split. Now here’s the fucking miracle.” Jason leans forward, grinning. “I find the door that’ll take me back to the showroom area, the guards bearing down on me from all four sides. I don’t have a chance in hell, when the lights go off.”

“Blackout?” questions Bruce.

“Magic,” Dick says flatly. “It was Marinette.”

Jason slaps the table, snarling, “Damnit! Now I have to give credit to her.”

“She knocked out electricity to the whole store,” says Tim.

“And caused a display to collapse in front of me. I tripped,” admits Dick.

“You have fought off assassins while poisoned, and executed advanced acrobatic maneuvers with broken bones, and you tripped over a toppled Swedish store display because of the dark?” Bruce knows he’s trained his children better. Why in the world did this go so sideways on them?

Dick braces his arms against the table and roughly slides his fingers through his hair. ”I know. I know. I was right there. Any other day and I wouldn’t have blinked about jumping right over it, but this time it felt… off. Bad day?”

“You’re getting old Golden Boy.” Jason takes a sip of his drink, doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin as he teases his older brother. “I guess it’s all downhill from here ain’t it.”

Dick flips him off.

Jason sticks out his tongue.

Bruce’s headache takes on a twinge of my-children-are-immature-brats feeling (generally categorized by a sharp sting right at his temple) and holds in an exasperated sigh.

“So, after magic girl shuts the lights off with her mind or whatever, I escape the security guards by an inch. One emergency exit later, and I’m back in the store proper. People are freakin’ the fuck out about the lights. By the time they turn on again, I’ve lost Damian for good, and now I just try to stay off security’s radar. I settle in a nice little blind spot right outside the children’s toy area and keep myself out of any trouble.” Jason looks over at Dick, fighting to keep a smug grin off his face. “Course I did see a woman go off on a poor employee. I kept my nose clean of it ‘cause it wasn’t my business.”

“Oh, ha, ha very funny. That woman was a menace,” groans Dick.

“Woman?” Bruce questions, almost scared to ask.

“Jessica Merope-Laverne, fifty-five, resident of Pleasantville. Married twice, has two children, a restraining order, and a police file with multiple notes about disturbing the peace,” Tim rattles off. “Thoroughly unpleasant.”

“That’s an understatement,” mutters Dick.

“Practically dragged Dickie Bird away by the ear.”

“Right as I was about to nab Marinette too. She’d hidden in one of the wardrobes in the room, and I was this close-” Dick positions his fingers scant centimeters apart from each other, “-to cornering her, and I got dragged away.”

“Shit, would have loved to know that,” mutters Jason. “Anyway, I stood around, making sure nobody was on my tail, soon I heard rumors about a ruckus in the atrium-”

“That would be me,” Tim admits with a grin.

“Well, I didn’t know that. I was hoping demon spawn and Frenchie were involved somehow, so I headed over, and then-”

“Oh, I know what happened from there. I saw the video.” Bruce pins Tim and Jason with a stare. “I respect both of you have opinions-”

“Opinions? Opinions? I have justified grounds for calling out his revolutionary bullshit! His entire life embodies nothing but the anthesis of systemic poverty, and he argues for class cooperation!” shouts Jason. Bruce always marvels at how eloquent Jason becomes when angry.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” counters Tim. “You would harm the very people you try to uplift in the process.”

“Sure, it is! It’s the natural response to a gluttonous, greedy, overburdened, bureaucratic system that’s leeching off the populous and perpetuating its own supremacy.”

Tim slams a hand against the table, raising to his feet, exhaustion clearing from his eyes. “It’s an option, not the option. We can do better than violence if we work at the cause's root problem without pulling out a fucking guillotine.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh of course you would argue for that, you’ve never had less than six figures in your bank account in your life.”

“So says the self-proclaimed drug lord!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“A bag of heads on the steps of the GCPD!”

“Oh, get over it!”

“If it matters,” interjects Dick. “Probably doesn’t, systemic economic issues are hard to fix when we have bigger problems like an actively insane criminal population that likes destroying important city infrastructure on a monthly basis.”

“Which Wayne Enterprises does its best to counter,” adds Bruce, not bothering to chide his children back on track. This particular topic turned them into a bunch of unherdable cats.

“Funneling more money into the one percent’s hands!” Jason’s bordering on manic at this point.

“We are the one percent, Jason!” counters Tim. “And we stay that way, despite the copious amount of infrastructure projects, that we hire Gotham citizens for, and pay at least a living wage to all of them. Not to mention every other single employee we hire who also are paid a living wage, with benefits, and support. I know I am privileged. I am trying here.” The last sentence came out as a distraught cry, as he collapses back into his chair.

“Are… are you okay?” Dick asks tentatively, ready to cross the table to comfort his brother.

Tim shoves his hands into his hair and mutters, “I need an espresso.”

“No, you need sleep,” says Bruce, mentally calculating where all the caffeine in the house is so he can hide it. “Can we return to the recap, so your brother can go to bed?”

“My side of things is much shorter in comparison to Jason’s,” says Dick. “As long as nobody interrupts.” Casting a pointed glare in Jason’s direction. Jason shrugs casually and crosses his arms.

“I waited at the children’s play area. Now, a man my age would attract attention without a need to be there, so I’d ducked into the employee-only area, and grabbed a shirt to disguise myself. I hung out in the Starbucks for a good forty-five minutes trying to look like I was on break while observing the play area. Although I couldn’t tell where the vent entrance was, I figured two adults Damian and Marinette’s size would be easy to spot coming out of an area meant for children.

“When an hour and a half passed by, I’m nervous, because neither Jason nor Tim has sent any word. I called them both. They didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, 'cause the French phone napper took our phones,” mutters Jason.

“So, I decided to do some reconnaissance. The lady at the front desk looked bored enough, and so I went over to… chat.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You mean flirt.”

Dick glares. “Shut up. So, I hang around the front desk for half an hour at most, before the kids went crazy. Like plastic balls being thrown everywhere, kids shrieking, this one little girl, later we learn her name is Abby, she’s doing this whole speech about a revolution-”

“Tim…”

“Not me, I’m not here at this point.”

“I stand there in shock, wondering what the heck set it all off. This one little girl runs up to the daycare worker, Melinda? Melody? Something. I don’t remember. And the little girl’s nose was bleeding, so there immediately goes my peaceful cover. I back up into the crowd, which at this point has gathered around pretty thick.”

“You know I wondered why there were so many people hanging around in that front lobby area,” says Tim.

“I’m almost sure the commotion has something to do with Marinette and Damian, so I keep my eyes peeled waiting for any adult-sized figures to emerge from the play area.” Dick sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was right of course, but I missed Marinette slipping out, and she approached me from behind.”

“This is where you get pickpocketed too!” crows Jason.

“Really, Richard?” asks Bruce with a raised brow. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, look, I was distracted, off my game, there was a ton of screeching, and it had been a long day. And she was very good. The technique was flawless, minus a bit of overacting and a touch of obviousness. Which was her goal because-”

“~It was a trap~” Jason and Tim sing together.

“It was bait,” Dick corrects. “Leading me to a trap, that didn’t even work. So really, I did the best between the three of us.”

“You all will complete remedial awareness training, so a situation like this never happens again.” Bruce massages the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Just… just please continue.”

“I can’t full-out chase her or anything, but she keeps out of reach through the store, until we reach the place where they set the trap. Obviously, Jason already tripped it, so she turned face and ran in the opposite direction. I followed, trying to convince her to stop and talk. But at this point, she’s full-on outpacing me and doing well too. I’m hesitant to say trained, but she had practice.”

“She’s gotta be a spy, or maybe she’s working for the League?” muses Jason.

“Damian would see right through that,” interrupts Bruce. He knows his youngest son has an instinct when sniffing out undercover League members. Talia certainly sent enough of them over the years.

“Maybe she’s just that good?” says Tim. “I certainly can’t find a damn thing on her, and being a League plant would explain that.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll figure out her deal later. She calls Damian, and they talk briefly, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Soon after Jason does his whole intercom takeover Marinette pulls out her little magic electro bursts and short circuits the electricity to the entire store.”

“And then caused you to trip.”

Dick wearily nods. “And then caused me to trip. By the time I detangle myself, she’s long gone. The lights come back on, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell she’s gone. I try to avoid getting clocked by security, so I keep to blind spots, which is how I eventually spot her doing the same.”

“Suspicious,” mutters Tim. “More evidence for the ‘League plant’ theory.”

“Or she could know security is looking for a woman of her description and she’s smart, either way, I tail her and corner her in a display room, no idea why she chose that one, but when I walk in it’s empty.”

“She teleported, or vanished like a ninja,” gasps Tim, eyes wide, pupils smaller than pinpricks. Bruce is now counting the seconds until he passes out.

Dick shakes his head. “No, she hid in the fucking closet. Tim, you need sleep.” Tim sticks out his tongue.

“I was this-” Dick places his fingers centimeters away from each other “-close to nabbing her, and then the whole Jessica situation happened.” He rubs a hand through already messed up, fly-away hair. “She drags me away screeching about lawyers and customer service, and it had been a very long day, so the second her back was turned I bolted. I couldn’t risk heading back to the display room, although if I were Marinette I’d be long gone, so I backtracked to where I stuffed my actual clothes and headed towards the atrium.”

“Yes, I saw your arrival as well,” Bruce confirms with an exasperated drawl. The videos spread out across multiple platforms gave an all-around idea of what happened in the atrium. “You all know better than to escalate things in public. We have an image to maintain after all." The boys nod, cowed and guilty. "That being said, things wrapped up rather neatly.” He eyes the boys with a paranoid weariness. “Too neatly.”

All three sag into their seats and gaze at each other with sheepish grimaces.

“Yeah, B, we noticed that too,” says Jason. “But at the time…” he trails off.

Tim continues, his speech sluggish. “It felt normal, to accept what was going on. The fight, the crazy lady, the little kid with the ball pit balls, her uncle being Dick’s old friend, and the store manager, and they let us go. It was easy to go along with it.” Grimacing, he gestures to his assorted piles of papers. “You know, besides for all the work I have now.” Crossing his arms on the table he lays his head in the middle. “Too many people, so little sense.”

“Damian hasn’t said a word about any of it.” Dick slouches lower in his chair.

“Kid was all smirks when he and the little liar approached us after we left the store,” grumbles Jason. "Had fuckin' ice cream and everything." He spins the almost empty bottle of alcohol coke on the table. “Of course, they made us wait, because after we left and booked it to the car, Dickie realizes his keys are gone too. So there we are standin' in the parking lot, Timmy doesn't have his shoes, and all we got between us is one nerf gun, no phones, no keys, and no fucks left to give.” Bruce, too tired from the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and information his children just sent him on, can do nothing but muster up a stern and disappointed glare. He trained them all better than to let a civilian pull one over on not just one of them, but all of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know situational awareness. We’ll work on-” Dick breaks off his sentence, and sighs softly. A small soft smile overtakes his face, and he raises a single finger to his mouth. He nods in Tim’s direction.

Tim’s head, previously cradled in his arms, now lolls to the side. Neon blue light from his laptop highlighted his closed eyes, and the purplish bags underneath.

“Finally,” Jason mutters. “I swear he has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag. He’s been up for way too long.”

Bruce is just grateful he won't need to physically drag Tim off to bed and force him to get some desperately needed sleep. “Now we just need to get him to his room.” He would have done it himself if his ribs didn’t spasm the second he thought of the idea.

“Not it,” Dick whispers so quickly it’s practically a rush of air.

“Not it,” says Jason, barely a millisecond behind.

“Ha!” Dick impishly grins. “You do it.”

“But-”

“Nope, I said it first. You got to carry him.”

Jason turns his head towards Bruce, big bluish-green eyes looking for support.

Bruce doesn’t get himself involved in the decision-making games his children play. “He said it first.”

Jason’s hopeful glance turns into a disgruntled snarl. “I hate both of you,” he spits.

“Love ya too, Jay.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose. Jason pushes back his chair, and although he’s annoyed, the solid wood chair doesn’t scrape against the floor, so he can’t be too mad. Despite drinking his entire liter of mystery-alcohol-diet-coke mixture, his footsteps pace steady and strong. “Come here, ya little coffee-addicted gremlin.” Jason slips his arms around Tim’s body. It’s a testament to how exhausted his son must be, that Tim only flutters his eyes and protests incoherently at being lifted out of his chair.

“Quiet down, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, his voice soft as he speaks to his sleep-deprived brother. “All your calls and research will be there when you return from the land of nod.”

“But…”

“You can go willingly, or I can grab sedatives from the med bay and forcefully put your ass to sleep. I’ll put a bet on who’ll win that brawl.” Jason stands a good six inches taller than Tim, who looks like little more than a bedraggled rag doll in his older brother’s arms. Bruce knew who would win that fight too. Tim sighs and relaxes another inch into Jason’s arms. “There ya go. You can go back to bein’ insufferable once you’ve had some fucking sleep.”

“Hmm…” Tim's eyes fully flutter shut. Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but softly traverses the room so as to not jostle him. Looking back over his shoulder one last time to shoot an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look at Bruce and Dick, before walking out of the room.

Silence overtakes the grand dining room as the last of Jason’s footsteps fades into the echoing halls of Wayne Manor. A light rain drizzles outside, the faintest patter hitting the tall arched windows letting in a soft grey light.

Dicks groans, pulling himself out of his slouch gracefully and into more of a respectable position. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“If you’re old, I must be ancient,” Bruce responds. He’s not, really. Only forty-seven to Dick’s thirty-two. What he’d been thinking taking in a ten-year-old at twenty-five, he couldn’t really quite say. The only thing that mattered at the time was the aching echo of loneliness reflected in the eyes of a child who had just lost their parents.

Now, look at them, all these years later.

“Nah, you’re not ancient, B. We’ve just been through enough shit in our lives to age a person twenty times over.”

Bruce gives him a look of high disappointment. “Stunts like this do not help, Richard.”

Dick has the decency to look properly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean for the situation to get so out of hand,” Dick insists in a soft, quiet tone. Bruce doesn’t quite believe it. His sons thrive off of chaos. Even if they didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, they tended to actively encourage it once in the middle of the undertow. “I know, I know, but how was I supposed to anticipate Damian teaming up with a… witch? Magician? Whatever she is.” Dick mutters the last sentence, but Bruce hears it clearly.

His sons certainly think the young woman is dangerous. Tim is thoroughly confused and stressed by her existence, although deciphering his third son’s emotions through his fog of exhaustion is a vexing endeavor Bruce still isn’t sure he accomplishes all the time. Jason clearly hates her or at least is holding a very large, very deep grudge against her. He wonders what exactly the content of the conversation was when she threatened Tim and Damian. He wonders if she knew the effect it would have on Jason.

Flickering light from the chandelier above pierces his eyes like a particularly vicious game of stab-the-vigilante, but this conversation is important, so, despite the full body ache accompanying his you’ve-pushed-too-far-and-now-you’ll-suffer-the-consequences migraine, he pushes through to ask, “What do we actually know about her?”

Dick sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face, and suddenly he looks every inch of his thirty-two years. “To be honest? Only a little. Tim wasn’t the only one to look her up. I did my searching too.”

“And?”

“Practically nothing. Basic info, but school records sealed tighter than Fort Knox, and firewalls grow tighter every time I try to hack ‘em. School activities, online media presence, and even pictures; all of it is whisps in the wind. Every time I try to look deeper, something...” Dick shudders as if shaking away a bad feeling. “I come up short and I can’t find a reason why. Even trying to think about Paris as a whole feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can see if there’s anything in the League’s database about the city the past few years. It was Diana’s home base for decades until…” Bruce trails off, his mind an unexpected blank. Diana moved to the US from Paris eventually. Sometime within the last decade, but he can’t quite remember why. Surely, she must have told him at some point.

“She’s a fashion designer, I know that much. She has a website but it’s very bare bones. Commission work only. And her current course of study at Gotham U is Fashion and Business Management. But-” Dick’s hands flail into the air. “She’s from Paris! What on earth possessed her from moving from one of the fashion capitals of the world to here, to study fashion is beyond me.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce’s brain whirls at a million miles a minute. Connections forming and rearranging on his mind’s case board. The incongruency is so stark, there must be a reason. They haven’t found it yet.

“As for her magic…” Dick shrugs. “She said her powers mostly affected situational outcomes, and from the incidents I saw, she told the truth. But I’ve never seen magic like that before. Magic that just… happens. She didn’t say words, she didn’t make hand gestures. She used tiny little - I want to call them mechanized balls, but we never came close enough to tell – to kickstart the magic.”

“A techno-mage then?”

Dick contemplates the idea for a moment before saying, “Could be. But it felt more than that. As soon as she became involved the whole day felt… left of normal. Which I suppose aligns with situational outcome manipulation. The day certainly went their way…” Dick shrugs. “I just don’t know.”

Bruce hums, finally asking the question that had swirled in his mind since the girl was brought up. “Do you think she’s a danger?”

Dick leans back in the chair, his face an avalanche of flickering emotions. Wind lightly howled outside the dining hall filling the intervening silence. Finally, he sighs and says, “No, I don’t think so. She was chaotic sure but genuinely enjoyed the game for what it was. Damian probably encouraged the more unhinged ideas. And yes, she has magic, but so do a ton of other, far more obviously dangerous people. Our system is tricked out for all types of magic users, and even if she can bypass them due to her own unique magic, we’d at least receive a warning. And as for our identities…” Dick half-smiles. “She didn’t even know we were the ‘Waynes’ until we were just about to leave, and she didn’t appear particularly star-struck. I doubt she’d make the jump from chaotic billionaire’s kids to vigilantes.”

“As for Damian…?” Bruce hardly knows what to make of his youngest’s out-of-character reaction and hopes to receive some cohesive read on the situation from his eldest.

Dick, being quite unhelpful, shrugs. “I think you should talk to him. Get his side of the story. Things may have been chaotic on our end, but he did genuinely have fun. And, yes, he’s acting out of the norm.” Dick pauses. “Way, way, out of the norm for him, but I don’t think he’s enchanted. I think he just has a crush.”

Bruce blinks. Isn’t that a hell of a thought?

Damian.

With a crush.

He doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of realities. Reflexively he massages his temple with the tips of his fingers trying to relieve the paining, aching pressure.

“Headache again?” asks Dick with sympathy. After twenty years his son knows his tells well, and Bruce has always had headaches, although his reasons for having them have certainly increased over the years.

“Yeah, is what it is though. We’ll keep an eye on Damian, have you run him through the influence-affected protocols?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Dick shrugs. “Nothing, it’s mostly why I think he’s fine. She may be a danger, or powerful, but I don’t think she’s doing anything to Damian. Besides making him run up the data plan on his phone. He really hasn’t stopped texting the past two days.”

They’ve spent plenty of time talking about Damian, but Bruce hasn’t seen a glimpse of him since he woke up this morning. “Where is he?”

Dick pulls out his phone. “On a date, according to Stephanie.” Pulling up a photo that’s taken in a long-distance setting. Damian is pictured, seated at a cafe table, drinking out of a white coffee cup. Across from him sits a girl, Asiatic features, black hair, clad in a colorful sundress. They’re both smiling at each other.

It’s normal and adorable. And slightly worrying. Damian doesn’t smile like that unless looking at a fluffy four-legged creature.

“Stephanie trailed him?”

Dick flips the phone away. “Actually, she and Cass both followed him when he left this afternoon. Not sure what they planned, but they’ve sent some nice pictures.” He pauses for a moment and smiles fondly. “If she’s not a danger, or a League plant, this could be really good for him.”

Bruce hums, unsure, and hating himself for that unsurety. He’ll make a call when he has more information, and less of a migraine. “Go wash up and grab some sleep. I’m out until my ribs heal, so I’ll need you to take point on patrol.”

Rising from his chair, Dick stretches and shoots him a grin. “It took you twenty-five years, but damn, you’ve finally learned to call it quits when you need a break. Proud of you B.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to disguise his roll of the eyes. Dick would know he did it regardless. “Get on.”

Dick shoots him a lazy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” He ambles to the door, and Bruce calls out again before he’s gone.

“And next time, Dick, please try to keep the antics out of the paper, and off the internet.”

The shit-eating grin betrays Dick’s real thoughts when he says, “Of course Bruce, won’t happen again.”

Liar.

Bruce shakes his head in reluctant bemusement – should he honestly have expected anything else – and Dick ducks out of the door without another word. Finally, the dining room is quiet, except for the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes, and the soft hum of Tim’s computer.

Carefully, Bruce rises from the chair, his side twinging, head throbbing in what is now a full-on migraine.

He should have stayed in bed.

Ah, well, he’s suffered worse, and now he has a good idea of what happened with his sons that caused a headache so insistent he felt it halfway across the galaxy.

Gently closing Tim’s laptop, he doesn’t bother to touch the articles and paper, knowing his son’s organizational system may appear a mess to outsiders – even him on occasion – but that it has meaning for him. He observes the rest of the room; collecting Tim’s coffee mugs, and Jason’s empty plate and coke bottle – no need to have Alfred do it if he was right here – and ambles slowly to the kitchen taking care not to drop the dishes or disturb his ribs.

Placing the dishes away, Bruce leans heavily on the counter. Mind whirling, analyzing, and connecting the information as he has always done, however, it battles for dominance over the present, persistent, migraine. His body screams for more rest, and as much as he wishes to dig to the bottom of these problems right now, he trusts Dick has given him an accurate read of the situation. Later he can pry information from the girls, maybe they’ll have a less biased view of Damian’s… friend than his sons do.

He flicks the lights off in the kitchen, for now though, he’s heading back to sleep.

-line break-

A nap, a full meal, and hours later, the pitch black of the night concealed a heavier storm than the light drizzle which draped over the manor earlier in the day. Bruce, knowing damn well he wasn’t fit for patrol, sat in his office, a bottle of forty-year whisky perched next to a crystalline tumbler and a box of chocolates. A minor indulgence, especially as he should stay far away from alcohol at the moment. But if he hadn’t died from insane nutcases, aliens, or his children’s antics, mixing medicine and alcohol probably wouldn’t kill him.

Bruce snapshots a picture of the newspaper Alfred gave him this morning.

The front-page cover contains enough of the story to showcase the significant amount of drama his children had caused.

He texts the images to both Diana and Clark.

All he adds is, ‘I always know, and I’m always right.’

He pours another finger of the amber liquid into his glass and swirls it around as the computer turns on. Just because he wasn’t out and about, didn’t mean he intended to take the night off. Bruce stretches his fingers and opens up a blank case file template.

Time to find out who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #daminette #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damientte #damianette #mlb x dc #the ikea verse #ikea verse #headache classification system #the great ikea game

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roscgcld · 3 years ago

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Sometimes I'd like to imagine dd!reader being banned from shopping in IKEA alone. I sometimes daydream way too often and whenever I shop in IKEA I would just get lost in the massive amounts of furniture and room showcases. And if it makes it a more interesting take, put Gojo as her "assigned" supervisor and you got a dad and his kid roaming the isles of IKEA with nothing but a keen eye for everything, especially the big store's cafeteria isle. Imagine the headache Maki would have to endure lmao

Okay see - I get this lol. I will just get lost in the display areas or in the huge warehouse part where you pick up furniture near the cashiers. Even if you're looking at the right isle, you're gonna miss it T^T

But God imagine if Gojo, Yuji and Y/N decided to play hide and seek in IKEA because why not? And Megumi and Maki just turned their backs to them for a few moments to check the catalogue in their hands (they had spotted a few things they needed for the common room in the dorms), and Gojo had just dragged the other two away?

I'm honestly surprised if Y/N ended up climbing up to like the second or third rack on those huge shelves, realised her mistake, and called Maki crying? And she had to be brought down by one of those cranes that carry boxes around IKEA by a bunch of stressed-out employees - who just felt so bad because Y/N looked so traumatised that they treated her to ice cream even though she's way above the age of someone who would do something so reckless?

Maki had almost murdered Gojo that day - like Maki really tested how far she can go even with her Heavenly Ristrcition and Gojo genuinely thought he was going to die at the hands of another Zen'In lol. And poor Y/N, with her biscuits and random things that the others got her as an apology, just snuggling with Catoru and Panda cause she's a poor baby who doesn't know any better lol

Fun times~

#daydreaming!reader #roscgcld asks #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk manga spoilers #gojou satoru #maki zenin #satoru gojo #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi

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migilini · 4 years ago

Text

What The Heart Wants - Charlie Gillespie

Request: The reader is madly in love with Charlie who is her best friend but he’s dating and in love with her sister yk? Make it angst and sadcharlie

a/n: Sorry it took me so long! I’m so stressed with school atm so i bearly had time to write at all. I still hope you like it and that I went into the right direction. Don’t know how angsty it is.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: a little angst

MASTERLIST

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

As a teenager you spent a lot of your free time watching pretty much every rom-com that was out there, the thought of true love ignited a spark of hope in your heart. You loved the way that the characters on screen always were meant to be together, the way their love just seemed to be or else life isn't worth living.

Maybe your image of love was flawed and unrealistic. Maybe you always fell in love with the idea of a person rather than the person itself. Maybe your standards were too high and maybe that's why all your previous relationships didn't seem to work out.

And then you met him. Kinda ironic really, love, at first sight, was always your least favourite trope. But there he was, sitting alone at the table in the otherwise crowded cafeteria. His brown hair fell into his eyes while he played with the mashed potatoes on his plate, he was bopping his head to something. You took a big breath, collected all your courage that you didn't use growing up and sat down across from him.

The stranger looked up with furrowed eyebrows "S-sorry there isn't another free table." you stuttered and sent him a small, flustered smile. The boy took out an earbud "Sorry?" you started to blush, your eyes wide "Oh I- sorry I- was uhm... is it okay if I sit here?"

"Yeah yeah sure." the stranger answered and shot you a smile and gosh was that smile beautiful. If this was your way to die then so be it. "I'm Asher by the way."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you." you waved with three fingers.

After that Asher took you under his wings, introduced you to all his friends, took you to parties and most importantly helped to grow your self-confidence. You always knew who you were but with him, it was the first time where you could actually show off the real you, there wasn't a part of you that you had to hide to fit in.

Nevertheless, he wasn't your best friend. You two spent a lot of time together yes, but you didn't share a lot of secrets, your topics always being superficial. Yet, the crush on him only grew. The two of you were picture book perfect. Asher threw you into the water at the beach, screamed to lyrics in the car with you or even went shopping with you.

"Just this one party I promise," he whined one day, shoving more dresses in your chest. You huffed "Is this why you agreed to come thrifting with me? To get on my good side?" Asher smiled cheekily "Guilty. I know you don't know the people there but I really want you to go." he tried to persuade.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, trying to hide the smirk on your lips. You liked to see him throw a little tantrum. "Fine. But you'll pay for my dress."

The host of the party seemed nice enough and you hoped to god that the guests were the same. LED Lights illuminated the living room in a dark purple. The music blaring so loud, that you could feel the beat in your heart. "Y/N this is my good buddy Charlie. Charlie this is Y/N one of the baddest people I know." Asher screamed over the music, one of his arms draped over your figure. The party just getting started as more people walked through the front door.

You gave Charlie a hug and smiled up at him. "Hi!"

"Hello." he smiled back and your breath got stuck in your throat for a good second. Suddenly Asher had competition for the prettiest smile in the world. The boy with the mischievous spark in his eye really challenged your rankings.

You didn't intend to spend the night practically glued to Charlies hip. Asher was nowhere to be found, probably smoking somewhere with his buddies and the two of you were just naturally drawn to each other. He goes to get a new drink and a minute later, without discussing it beforehand, you do the exact same thing. Or you go on the small balcony to get some fresh air and Charlie joins you a couple of minutes later, casually leaning against the railing next to you.

"I figured that I would find you out here." he nearly whispered into the night. "Yeah it seems like you've been stalking me the whole night." you teased with raised eyebrows, a slight smirk playing on your lips. Charlie's hand immediately covered his heart. "I would never! And there I was, thinking I had the honour of you stalking me."

"Alright, Teds. If it makes you happy yes of course I was chasing after your pretty ass." you winked and he let out a heartful laugh.

"Teds?" he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders and slid down the railing, your front, facing the glass doors. The party inside was raging, with people dancing, kissing, talking and laughing. Only the faint noise of the newest pop song carried its way out to you.

"You're wearing a shirt with many teddy bears on it. It only made sense."

You and Charlie spent the rest of the night outside, the conversation flowing naturally and if there was a quick silence it wasn't awkward at all. Lucky for you, the party was in the middle of the summer so you didn't mind that much that you forgot to bring a jacket outside.

After the party you and Charlie spent a lot of time together, going to museums, road trips, camping or even just hanging out in one of your apartments. Inert weeks he was your best friend and over the years of friendship, you started to develop feelings for the Canadian.

He had helped you calm down right before your first date with Asher, who finally had the guts to ask you out and picked up the pieces after you got broken up with. Asher's last words before he left, never leaving your mind: "Truthfully I think you're in love with someone else Y/N. You just haven't figured it out yet but I know. I look at you the way you look at them."

Several months later, on a trip with your family and Charlie, you realised that Asher was indeed telling you the truth and you had been slowly falling for someone else.

It was late evening, the stars started to creep up on the sky, while the sun sank lower and lower behind the trees, illuminating the world in a pretty blend of oranges and pinks. The group sat around a small fire that cracked every now and then, filling the air with warmth. Everybody was exhausted from the big hike. Trees rustled somewhere in the background. A soft melody caught you off guard, completely ripping you out of your own thoughts.

Charlie sat a couple of feet away from you, across from your sister and mother. He was playing his guitar with no special song in mind. He settled on a melody that you didn't seem to recognize but you didn't care. Charlie looked beautiful.

Over the last year, he grew out his hair, which was now in a loose bun in the crook of his neck, some stray hairs falling in his face. The warm light from the fire highlighted his features in the exact right way. His eyes sparkled with joy. Before he started to sing the song, he looked over at you and smiled. It was the same smile that haunted you since then. The one that made your heart beat faster, the one that still took your breath away, the thing you couldn't shake off and also the one thing you couldn't live without.

While you stared at Charlie during the duration of the song, your heart swelling at the sight of him. He did the same to your sister. His eyes memorising every crook of her face from her arched eyebrows down to the roundness of her lips.

It didn't surprise you at all. Growing up everybody either wanted to be her or be with her. She was naturally gorgeous with long, luscious hair and an amazing body. She had decent grades and was always nice to everybody. The embodiment of the girl next door. It was hard to build a reputation that wasn't ‘Sam’s little sister’.

Looking back, that was probably why you liked Asher's attention so much. It was the first time someone saw you for yourself.

But what did shock you was that eventually, the two became a couple. Looks-wise they fit perfectly together that much was true but you couldn't wrap your head around them when it came to personality. From your romcoms, you knew that opposites attract yet Sam and Charlie are more than opposites. Not to say that you didn't love your sister, you really did, that was the main reason why the news shocked you so much. He liked to travel the world, not to be tied to one place for a long time. He was spontaneous and carefree, always down for a new adventure or a new adrenaline kick. Sam on the other hand wanted to take over dad's business in her hometown where she already went to school and college. Ever since she was little, she dreamed of a big family that was gonna grow up in the house she grew up in. Sam didn't like leaving her little bubble, her days always planned down to the second.

Neither of them noticed your heart breaking a little more every time they kissed right in front of you or the longing looks you gave Charlie. Both tried to include you in their adventures, taking you to the cinema with them, to IKEA and Disneyland. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't quite meant for each other. However, you kept your mouth shut just, always smiling their way, not mentioning that Charlie never went on Road Trips anymore or that Sam seemed to smile less.

“I think I want to marry her.”

You nearly spat out your drink, the fist in front of your mouth only holding back a little. The water dripped down your arm and onto the couch.

“What now?” you coughed and turned to the other person chilling at your apartment.

“You heard me right. My acting career is taking off and all the travelling made me realise that she is the one.” he smiled with a lopsided grin.

You furrowed your eyebrows, desperately trying to hide the hurt that flashed in your eyes. After trying, again and again, to get over Charlie you lost all hope. No other man even slightly compared to him, you tried to forget about him you really did. However, your heart believes that he was the man for you.

“Don’t the two of you want completely different things?” you switched into the best-friend mode, locking the jealous side away.

Now it was Charlie's turn to be confused, “What do you mean? We’ve been together for nearly two years now.”

“I just mean that she never expressed the desire to travel the world. She wants to have a big family and be a mom. Is she gonna travel to your jobs with you? Are you giving up your career to be at home with her? I just think there are so many things the two of you need to discuss before you take this step.” you expressed your concern while playing with the hem of the blanket covering you.

He stared at you for moments. Neither of you was speaking, the gears in his brain working in overload.

“Look I’m not saying that you shouldn't ask her to marry you. If that's what makes you happy, be happy. It's what I care about. I’m just saying you have a completely different view of the world.” you rambled, your eyes not meeting his anymore.

Was he mad? He normally spoke his thoughts out loud.

He lets out a sigh as he rubbed his hands over his face “Yes I know that you're right...but my gut is telling me that she's the one...” your heart cracked “and I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't ask, even if it ends up not working and you were right with your concerns. But knowing us, we will make it work. Compromise a lot, build a worldview together as a married couple.”

He smiled at you and your heartbeat quickened “I also kinda need your blessing.” he sheepishly said, slightly biting his lip.

You tried to keep your thoughts clear. “My blessing?”

Charlie nodded excitedly “Yes! I figured since you’re my best friend and she's also your sister I would ask you if you would be okay with that… I know we never asked if you're comfortable with us dating in the first place.”

“Oh, Teds," you whined, using the old nickname you had for him. "No need to ask me! As I said your happiness is my priority.” you smiled so wide that it hurt your cheeks, blinking rapidly to dissolve the tears that formed in your eyes.

He tackled you in a bone-crushing hug, placing wet and sloppy kisses all over your forehead. “Thank you. thank you. thank you! You don't know how much this means to me!”

Growing up, watching the Notebook, About Time, 10 things to hate about you, PS: I love you and many others, love always seemed inevitable, somehow it would work out. You would've never thought that you would be jealous of your sister's engagement. Who would have predicted that both sisters were gonna fall for the same guy, that one sister was happy while the other hated herself for yearning for him as well?

The 25-year-old version of you despised the 15-year-old version for loving these goddamn rooms, for believing in a soulmate, one true love, love for everyone but mostly for believing in an own happy ending.

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

Taglist: @alluringworld

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie angst #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie one shot

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elareine · 4 years ago

Note

the song better place by rachel platten and jay/dick or maybe just some jay-centric bat fam. hope this prompt works for you. love your fics <3

Thank you <3 That’s a very JayDick song, but I love writing batfam, too, so... have both.

Steph took one look at Jason’s old-new room and pronounced: “You need to redecorate.”

“No shit.”

“Let’s go.”

Which was how Jason found himself in Ikea of all places. She even dragged a flustered-looking Tim with her, who proved to be supremely unhelpful when it came to curtain color (“I don’t think either red or purple will look good with those walls,” bullshit) but very willing to hand over his credit card. It was… fun. The room felt less like a tomb when Steph was done with it, which was great.

He told her that.

“Well, duh.” She grinned. “No one in this house knows how to decorate for shit. You should see what Tim did with his bedroom…”

Jason spent a minute considering his options. “Anime girls?”

“Nope.”

“Superman posters.”

“Nope, but I like the way you’re thinking.”

“Bad Picasso replicas.”

“Nooo,”

“I give up.”

“He did…” Steph paused dramatically. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. It still looks like it did in the eighties.”

Jason laughed, and she looked gratified. “Sounds terrible.”

They kept working on the bookshelf. Ikea was great for those; that’s why they went there in the first place. Well, that and the look on Bruce’s face when he saw the boxes.

After a minute, Jason asked: “So… are you seeing a lot of Tim’s bedroom, then?”

“Yeah. So what?” She glared at him, which he was starting to realize was a sure sign that she was embarrassed.

“So nothing. Didn’t know that was happening again, that’s all.”

It took her a minute, but she softened. “Yeah. I… guess we’re giving it a second chance.”

“That’s cool,” he told her sincerely. “I mean, you could clearly do better, but he damn well knows what he’s got now.”

“Hmm.” Steph was hiding behind the shelf she was holding up, but he could still tell she was pleased. “So how about your own second chance, huh?”

…damn, he’d walked right into that one. “Shut up.”

—

“Home invasion in sector 6R. Three 1Cs, suspected armed. Neighbors reporting shots, five people in the house. Hood, you’re closest.”

Jason had already changed course. “I’m on it.”

He waited—this was the point where Batman would send a Robin or two after him, maybe even Nightwing or himself, “just as back-up.” There was no way they would let him operate as part of the team without close supervision for at least a year. Jason was determined to grit his teeth and bear it, even if he wasn’t sure for how long he could. He was chafing already, running like this with the others when he’d been on his own for so long.

However, Bruce only confirmed that he’d heard him, and then the line went silent.

Huh.

—

There was no better time to be awake in the manor than the early morning in Jason’s opinion. The light fell softly into the kitchen as he entered, barefoot and in his pajamas.

Alfred was there, of course. “Good morning, Jason.”

It was their private ritual; had been even before Jason had moved back into the fold. Six a.m., tea and sandwiches. The only difference was that now, Jason hadn’t vanished by the time Damian stomped into the kitchen, glowering at them for being awake and having the audacity to send him to school.

It was kinda adorable, not that Jason would ever tell him that. Instead, he watched Damian make his way through his own breakfast and nodded toward the packed lunch waiting for him. “I see you’re not taking advantage of the school cafeteria, then?”

“Them?” The amount of scorn Damian managed to pack into a single word would have weighed down a ship or two. “They would not know good food if it chased after them with a sword.”

“Let me guess—still only three spices, and these are salt, pepper, and ketchup?” Jason asked.

“I believe there is a fourth one now—they have a particularly intolerable mixture that they like to label ‘Chinese.’” Damian’s whole face scrunched up with distaste. “It tastes nothing like what Mother used to cook.”

“While I am sorry to hear that,” Alfred inserted, “we will be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Damian grumbled but hopped off his chair. Jason glanced at the clock — seven a.m. Dick would get up soon. Might as well make him a sandwich, too.

He pulled the ingredients closer, already compiling a list of recipes in his head. Talia had shown him how to make most of Damian’s favorites. He could teach those to Alfred, no problem.

—

“Hood. Stop it right now.” Dick looked at him with big eyes, or so Jason assumed, considering they were both wearing their masks.

“No, continue.” Barbara sounded choked, audibly forcing down laugher.

And, hey. Love was one thing, but Jason knew who gave him the best intel night after night. “So big bird and B decide that they have to infiltrate this organization, right? Only… they’re all swingers…”

Her laughter was brighter than the streetlights.

—

Jason stepped into the corridor and silently closed the door behind him.

God, but it had taken a long time to get Dick tired and ready to sleep. Jason himself was still feeling too wired to pass out, but then he wasn’t operating on a 40-hour sleep deficit, so it was totally not the same thing.

He decided to wander down to the cave. Bruce was still up, of course, acknowledging Jason’s presence with a grunt. The only other person present was Tim, who was bent over some files.

…like, really bent over them. One could almost think…yup, he’d fallen asleep at the table.

Jason gently poked him. Then he harshly poked him. When nothing happened, he sighed and moved one arm under Tim’s legs, the other gripping his shoulders. The kid would fuck up his back if he stayed like that. It took a bit of effort, but they were soon making their way up the stairs, Tim cradled securely in Jason’s arms.

They’d almost made it upstairs when Tim stirred, blue eyes opening halfway and looking at him.

Heart in his throat, Jason waited. This family had a bad habit of coming awake swinging, and with Jason hovering over them… well, it wouldn’t be entirely unjustified, wouldn’t it? Especially in Tim’s case.

Tim grumbled and went right back to sleep.

—

Jason pinched his nose. Or tried to, but he was wearing his helmet, so he basically poked himself in the face. Judging from Duke’s expression, that wasn’t helping his point.

“So you decided to buy us time by…”

“Ninja traps,” Cassie finished for him. Looking as if that made total sense.

“Ninja traps.”

“Well, it was more of an obstacle course, really,” Duke added helpfully.

“Okay, that’s a weird-ass move, but I can respect that. Then why did that warehouse explode?”

“Fire.” Cassie’s expression gave nothing away.

Jason looked to Duke. “What she said.”

“And the fire was there because…?”

“Fire is an obstacle.”

Jason groaned. “I cannot believe I’m the responsible person here,” he lamented. “Is this how you feel most of the time, D?”

There was laughter over the com. “Oh, Nightwing has finally acquired a co-parent,” Steph commented, followed by Tim’s: “About time.”

(Everyone ignored Bruce’s “Hey!”.)

—

“Jason.”

Bruce was hovering. He probably didn’t intend to it; it just came naturally. Jason still felt that nervous lurch in his stomach whenever Bruce did that, but he was trying to get over it, so he just asked: “Yeah?”

“Let me show you something.”

They went into one of the rooms behind Bruce’s office that Jason had always assumed held nothing but files. He was very wrong.

“After you… left, I found myself reading books and thinking—he would’ve loved that.”

The walls were lined with bookcases. There were special editions of Jane Austen reprints, thick sci-fi novels, and nineteenth-century murder mysteries. It was eclectic and weird and precisely what Jason liked. What they both liked.

“I kept collecting them,” Bruce told him, voice too even. “Just… in case, I suppose.”

Jason stared at the shelves and shelves full of books, all read exactly once. His eyes were stinging because the glass display downstairs—that was bullshit. That uniform was about and for Bruce, and the new Robins, not Jason.

But this?

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Bruce almost-smiled, relief written across his face. “You’re welcome. Uh. I’ll leave you to it.”

Jason let him take two steps, then he said: “Bruce. If there was ever a time for a hug, this is it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Jason let Bruce pull him into an embrace—hugged back just as fiercely and told him: “It’s okay. You can stop grieving now. I’m here.”

If Bruce’s shoulders were shaking, neither of them mentioned it.

—

It was a total accident. Jason had felt like holding Dick’s hand, so he did. It was only when he looked up and caught Tim’s eye that he remembered—right. They were surrounded by Dick’s family. Their family.

Tim winked. The conversation didn’t stop. No one else commented or even gave them a second glance.

Something in Jason exhaled.

Dick squeezed his hand, smiling at something Damian was saying, and ugh, sometimes Jason was so full of feelings, he didn’t know what to do with it. Dick was just so—so—

Yeah. Jason was so fucking gone for him. All he could think about was how it would feel if there was a ring, there, pressing against his own.

He leaned back, adding a sarcastic comment or two to the conversation just to bask in the sunshine of Dick’s laughter. That thought warranted some serious consideration, not to mention talking to Dick, but—just the idea that he could have that? That he trusted himself, and Dick, and their family, enough to have that?

It was more than enough.

—

(Three days before Jason moved into the manor, Dick called a family gathering.

“Why is Jason not here, then?” Tim asked, frowning. “If it’s a family matter, it concerns him, too.”

Dick could kiss him for that. Instead he said: “Because it’s about him. I’m gonna lay down some ground rules, okay?”

Jason letting Dick convince him to move back in with them… that was huge. And dangerous. Dick had figured out long ago that Jay and Bruce had no idea how to handle each other anymore. Neither did the rest. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to. Dick was hopeful.

It was just… Jay was the best thing in Dick’s world; his support, his light, his conscience. He just made everything better. And Dick had no intentions of letting their family or anyone else fuck that up.)

(I’m taking prompts.)

#elareine writes #batfamily #jaydick #jason todd #this was meant to be shorter and is totally unedited because it's 1am and i wanna bedone with it #sorry

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muilkyu · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Intentions

Genre: Angst, Toxic Ex, Minimal Cursing

Member: Haruto

Word Count: 1.2 k

Requested by: Anon Request

IKEA is the best store in the world. It has a cafeteria, cheap home decor and it's huge so it's the perfect place for just walking around for hours. While granted not the best place for a date. Haruto and I barely have time to see each other because of school so we decided to take advantage of the time we have right now. He doesn't really need anything, but I looked online a few days ago for a couple of this I want.

"How about this one? The color matches my nightstand?"

Haruto places the pillow he has in his hand down and walks back over to me, "What scent is it?" He takes the candle from my hand to smell it.

"Umh I think it is, green apple. It's a little pricey though but it's big so it won't burn through as fast," I tell him placing the candle into the shopping basket.

He hums looking around to look at some other candles, "Did you pick up that plate set you wanted?"

I let out a small gasp I had completely forgotten about that, "No I'll go run and get it I'll be right back."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" He asks, looking at me eyebrows raised.

Smiling, I hand him the basket already making my way down the aisle, "I'll be right back, I know where it is!"

The aisle for the dishware is only a couple of aisles down from the candles. I've been wanting it for a while, but I hadn't bought it yet because I wasn't sure if I was staying in Korea. Now that I know I will be staying for the rest of high school and then for college, I've started buying the basics.

Reaching the aisle I see the white and light green set and I immediately smile. It's perfect. I can't wait to have Haruto over for dinner now. Maybe we could tonight, I'll have to ask him. We might have to stop at the store, but that's fine. I really just want to spend more time with him. Haruto is the first person in a long time that has made me feel like myself.

I'm stuck wondering if I should invite my boyfriend over for dinner when out of nowhere I feel a tug on my bag. Shocked, I turn around ready to confront whoever just tried to touch me. Then I'm face to face with the last person on earth I would like to see right now.

"Hey."

I take a few steps back in a failed attempt to distance myself, "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious I'm shopping. Why are you here?" He scoffs at the question already settling to glare at me.

"Same as you apparently. Look just leave me alone," I reach to grab the plate set, but he grabs it before I can, "Don't do this right now."

"Do what? I'm just walking you ran into me," he replies, shuffling forwards towards me. I don't have time for this I think to myself. As I try to walk past him he grabs ahold of my arm holding me in place, "Where are you going?"

"Let go of me, Jae."

His grip only tightens. I'm still trying to tug my arm from his hold, when he responds "Why can't we just have a conversation?"

"Conversation after what you did to me? I don't ever want to see you again," I spit back at him.

"Just 5 minutes."

"No, now let go of me."

Instead of letting go, he yanks me so I'm standing in front of him, "You're not going anywhere."

"Jae let go of me right now!" I yell, trying to pry his hand off of my forearm. I'm sure people are staring at us at this point. It's not like anyone is going to get involved though. We probably just look like a couple arguing in the middle of IKEA.

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Difficult? You always say that when things don't go your way. Jae, you sat and told me to my face that you didn't care about me."

"I was lying. I was caught up in the moment."

"Were you caught up in the moment enough to talk to my best friend behind my back. You had me thinking you loved me yet the entire school knew what you guys were doing. You've also had bad intentions this can't be any different from last time."

Jae let's go of my arm reaching to grip my shoulders harshly, "That doesn't mean I didn't love you."

"Jae if you loved me you wouldn't have messed around with my best friend. Both of you are a piece of shit for doing that. I was heartbroken for months after I found out. I was falling behind in school to the point where I almost got sent home. Now I'm happy and I've moved on."

"Moved on?" He questions hands dropping from my shoulders, "To who?"

Before I have the chance to say anything I feel a hand wrap it's way into mine. Jae looks so pissed off it's laughable. Haruto is a little late but better late than never. How did I end up in the middle of IKEA in an argument with my trashy ex-boyfriend?

"You're with him?"

"Yes, and I am."

Jae seems to have ignored everything I've said and has a death glare on Haruto. The latter doesn't seem to be affected by the stare more concerned if anything.

"Look man just let me and the lady talk."

"I don't think you have anything else to say to her."

Jae comes a little closer to Haruto, voiced raised, "Who are you to tell me what I can and will not do?"

"No one, but from what I'm hearing she doesn't want to talk to you," he says calmly, "All the stuff you want to talk about is in the past."

"Past or present doesn't matter. Who are you to come in between our conversation? This has nothing to do with you."

"That's where you're wrong. If you want to have a conversation it has to be both ways. If she's willing to talk to you in the future then that's fine, but as of right now that's not going to happen."

Jae finally looks down to me and the back at Haruto, he throws his hands up in defense, "Fine whatever man she'll be crawling right back to me whenever she's done with you." And with that, he walks off. Even though he used his last seconds to try to hurt me I can tell that what Haruto said got to him. Some things never change.

"So that's what he's like?"

Sighing I look to my boyfriend sighing, "Yeah told you he was a jackass."

"Everything you told me is starting to make sense now," he squishes my hand, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired now honestly. He just brought up a lot of emotions I had already thought I'd gotten past."

"We can always talk about it. You know I'm here for you as long as you need me."

"Stop, you're gonna make me cry," you pout pushing him in the shoulder.

"Let's get out of here the mood is all ruined."

"Yeah let's go home."

It's only on the subway when I realized I never got my dish set. When I tell Haruto he's already on the website having it delivered to the dorm. I really don't know how I found such a loving relationship.

Not me saying no fics and then writing a fic not I (*_*)

Requests are opened for all but fics!

#treasure #treasure scenarios #treasure fics #treasure haruto #haruto scenario #watanabe haruto #haruto #yg treasure #treasuremaker #kpop #kpopxreader #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions

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forlornmelody · 3 years ago

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Today’s List of Nice Things;

1) 9.5 hour work day doing what I love! And making a living wage doing it. Yasss.

2) Saw a bunny rabbit as we were setting up for the day.

3) Ran the portable dishwasher ALL BY MYSELF. And the kitchen didn’t get flooded. Idk why but running one for the first time is super intimidating.

4) IKEA’s cafeteria is open again. This has been a PSA.

5) Gonna go to a queer outdoor concert tomorrow. Maybe I’ll run into some cute folks? Make friends? Make more than friends? Fingers crossed.

6) NEW TITANS SEASON 3 TRAILER DROPS TOMORROW.

#please help I've forgotten how to MINGLE #who is forlornmelody?#brain hygiene

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markie-baby · 4 years ago

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We'll Go Way Back

Dream Log | 12.20.20

Hi EVERYONEEEE. It’s been an exponentially long time since I’ve been on here and an even longer time since I posted a Mark dream (mainly because I haven’t had many worth telling). But I figured after the year we have had that I should get back on here and post some the good ones I had for ya’ll as well as a bunch of shit I had in my drafts :) I hope you all are safe & healthy, and have continued health & safety in this new year. For all those who have been heavy effected by the events of last year both physically and mentally, I want you know that my heart is with you <3 I love you.

Disclaimer | ALL of my “Bias Dreams” posts are 100% actual dreams I’ve had of my biases. I hate the smell, look, taste, and sound of bullshit, so why would I serve it to you guys on a silver platter with a side quail eggs, cheese fondue, and some assorted fruits, and call that shit a five star meal? Enjoy!

So the dream is really weird (and slick beautiful & powerful) and there are some pieces I don't remember but I think it starts off with me going on a plane to go to college. And the college campus is huge and picturesque. Especially the cafeteria. So I'm there and kind of feeling so-so about the experience and I'm socializing with other students there, I don't recognize anyone there. So then I head to the café and I'm sitting there alone and kind of hating the food and starting to hate being there, so I get up and throw my food away. As I’m leaving the café, I notice that it’s suddenly night time and then I see Mark in a corner sulking. But I guess in my dream, the universe that I am in exists out of the current one. He’s not Mark of Got7, he's just Mark to me. So I kind of look at him and then he nods at me and I nod at him.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask him.

"I don't really wanna be in there. Don't really want to be here." He says back. "What about you?"

"Um, it's my second year (of college) but I just got here so I don’t really know anyone. I don't even know if this is what I really want." I respond.

He doesn't respond back for a few seconds. "Wish you could turn back time?"

"Yeah..." I sigh.

"Do you want to go back in time with me?" He smirked at me.

"...yes."

So Mark pulls out this little handheld blue remote contraption with like a small antenna on it, a little screen, and a little dial and button. Then he turns the dial and presses the button and 4 years are taken off our physical bodies (19 & 23) not effecting the time in our current environment. So while I'm standing there trying to figure out wtf just happened, Mark is like, "Wanna get out of here?" And smiles that smile that just UGHHHH. So I'm like "Yes." What follows after happened almost like a montage in my head. We decided to run off of campus and just do random, but beautiful shit. We got into his vintage, yellow car he had parked on the street of the campus and we went to see a superhero movie, and then we played in the arcade where we got really competitive lol. Then he drove us to an old school amusement park by the beach and we were the only ones there and we rode on a bunch of rollercoasters and screamed and laughed. And then it got dark, we went stargazing and talked about our interests and dreams. Then Mark asked me if I wanted to go furniture shopping. I was like furniture shopping for what? And he was like for our house when we live together.

So I was like "Sure, why not!"

So we went to some Target IKEA hybrid, and legit started furniture shopping but it was so cute because he was holding my hand the whole time, and asking me what I think what would be good for the apartment, making sure we both came to an agreement. But then it got really sad and weird, because while we were looking at bathroom mirrors and then the glass in the mirrors turned into moments in time from our past, like Mark's baby pictures, his debut, etc. And my baby pictures, and me going to highschool and college DEPRESSED, and then me finding myself & drawing again. And then Mark turned to me and was like, "we gotta go back." And in a beautiful kind of way, I knew what he was taking about and why. We cant live in the past, we need to move forward and actually live like we did with each other today. So, nodded and took the little way back machine out of his pocket and turned the dial and I was about to press it when he pulled me closer, put his hand on my cheek and kissed me. BICH. WHEN I TELL YOU I LITERALLY FELT. HIM. KISSING ME. JESUS. TMI, but he’s such a good kisser. On GAWD. And he was passionate!!! OOoooowEeeeeee. Anyways, he's kissing me and my hand slips and presses the button slowly turning us back. Then he pulls away still holding my hand and I ask him, "So what now?" Then he's smiles, "I think I'm gonna pursue music like I wanted. What about you?"

"I honestly don't know...but I want to live my life how want it. I want to be happy this time around." I say.

He smiled. "What about us?"

"Pursue your dreams first. When you get all big and famous then come and find me :)"

"Okay..." he answered.

Then we both started walking away from each other and next thing I knew , I was back on campus and it was super bright and sunny outside and I was feeling great. A bich was doing cartwheels on the front lawn and shit saying hello to everyone. Then I see two classmates who I apparently know, (a guy and girl) and the guy asks me where I've been and I tell him that I went of with this guy named Mark and we had an amazing time together. And girl asked me why I am super happy like what happened to me. And literally I just blurt out "I'm dropping out!" And I get up and run to the cafeteria to get food to drive back home.

A bich chasin her dreams.

~until next dream~

#got7mark #igot7 #got7 soulmate au #got7 scenarios #gif:mark #mark tuan #marktuan #got7 #biasdreams #mark tuan imagines #got7 imagines

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softbiker · 5 years ago

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Born to Run - Chapter 15

Warnings: language, literally zero editing

Word count: 3k

A/N: Wow I’m back to updating this story??? A million years later?? I am so sorry to anyone who was following this - but if you’re still reading and still interested, here’s an update! God as my witness, I will finish this. I actually have more ideas and inspiration for where the story’s going now - plus we’re all getting quarantined, so these WIPs have never had a better chance of getting done. Anyways, here it goes! Please let me know what you think!

The lone monitor beeped steadily, plaintively, in the early morning quiet of the hospital room. Air rattled through the breathing machine, filling unknowing lungs over and over. A starched white blanket was pulled up to his chest, covering most of the bandages wrapped around his torso from the hours of emergency surgery. His left arm was already in a cast and laid on top of the blanket, resting against his stomach.

Natasha felt sick.

And angry.

How could she have been so stupid? Acting like a goddamn rookie, for starters, and running to Nick to fix their situation - letting things get out of hand with the Avengers, failing to convince Y/N to get out of here before things got bad. And they were only going to get worse.

If Nick had been identified, then they were all in danger. And there was no fucking way, to her mind, that he couldn’t have been I.D.’d. This wasn’t a random accident, regardless of whatever the hell the local police wanted to write on the incident report. It was an attack, a warning. First blood.

Her knee bounced in her seat by the bed, plastic upholstery squeaking with every shift in her weight. She chewed her nails - a habit she thought she had finally managed to kick. A tall nurse, dark curls piled into a bun on top of her head, came in to check Nick’s vitals; she was quiet, efficient, offering Nat a sympathetic smile.

“If you need anything, just contact the nurse’s station, ok?” Her pink bubblegum, tucked in the back corner of her mouth, was visible when she talked. “And there’s a coffee machine around the corner, in case you need your fix before the cafeteria opens up.”

Nat nodded her thanks as the woman slipped out of the room, her white nursing clogs creaking a little, not yet broken in.

The sky outside the window continued to brighten, a clear and cold winter morning; she wasn’t sure how long she stared at him before she decided to have that coffee after all. Massaging her temples, she shuffled down the hallway towards the flickering glow of the machine. Her boots echoed on the tiles in the empty hall, the low hum of the coffee machine filling the little alcove near the elevators. It whirred and hissed and spat out her coffee into a blue paper cup with slow, deliberate drips.

How had she let it get this far? What was she going to do without him? And who the hell could she trust? She winced as the first sip of coffee burned her tongue. It wasn’t as though she didn’t trust the team…but she’d gone to Nick in the first place because they were no longer being objective - Barnes especially, and Rogers was only enabling him.

Her eyes on the waxed linoleum floor, she barely noticed him standing outside the door of the hospital room. Steve squared his shoulders, directly in front of her, his eyebrows tilted at a thunderous angle.

“You gonna tell me what the hell is going on here?” he gritted out, the hoarse edge of his voice scraping in his throat.

Nat didn’t answer, not right away. Instead, she let him stew in the boil of his righteous anger, air tightening between them. The coffee had cooled a bit, but left a funny taste in her mouth - the flavor mixed badly with the mints she’d been sucking on an hour ago. The muscles in her neck and back ached from hunching by Nick’s bed all night, and she arched a little on her feet, stretching and flexing, though the early morning tightness never quiet left her muscles.

Finally, when the flare of Steve’s nostrils told her he was on the verge of making a scene, she gestured toward the door with her coffee cup.

“Why don’t you head in there and see for yourself?”

Clenching his jaw, Steve turned and let himself into the hushed dimness of the hospital room. He filled the doorway - he filled most doorways - and from behind Natasha wished he could march into this and save the day, the way he always wanted to. At the foot of the bed, he stopped and rested a hand on the mobile tray waiting there, now cleared of the uneaten food from last night. His mouth turned further down, matching the turn of his eyes as he watched the sleeping man tucked into crisp hospital linens. After all these years, I was so strange to see Nick this way - weak, still, not in command. It shook something loose inside of him, but he tamped it down, cracking the knuckles of his fist.

“You know who did this?” he said, his voice a low growl under the tone of the monitors. Behind him, Nat closed the door with a soft click.

“Of course I do - don’t you?” She slipped behind him, sipping from her coffee, and took up her chair by the bed again.

Big hands curling and uncurling, Steve remained silent. From her spot in the squeaky hospital chair, Nat watched the slant of his profile, reading the rage in every line.

“Rumlow is dead,” Steve said through clenched teeth.

“But not the rest of them.”

“Without a leader? They’re just a bunch of thugs.” Steve shook his head. “There’s someone else pulling the strings - someone smarter.” He nodded towards Nick’s prone body. “Someone who knew about Nick. Maybe about all of us.”

Natasha nodded slowly, one finger tracing the rim of her coffee cup. Usually she enjoyed being right.

Steve scrubbed at his face with his hands, blowing a harsh breath past his lips. He turned away from the hospital bed and paced along the edge of the room, towards the window. With the thin curtain drawn, pale sunlight cast shadows beneath his eyes, sharped the noble angle of his nose. HE never dreamed they’d be standing here, years deep in a life built on lies and duty. Fresh from the army, him and Buck, and no plans - that’s when Sam approached them. Intelligence work, a chance to do something important, to keep fighting the good fight on the home front.

“They’re all in danger.” Natasha’s voice scraped at the edges of her throat. “You know that, Steve.”

“I know.”

“It’s time.” He turned to look at her, bits of hair falling from her ponytail to frame her face. Bits of mascara had smudged underneath her eyes, bloodshot and heavy.

“Make the call,” Steve said, looking back towards the window. “Get Pierce if you have to. It’ll piss off Stark to go over his head, but I’m not worried about his ego.”

Nat licked her lower lip, tracing the chapped skin.

“What about Barnes and his girlfriend?” she asked, leaning an elbow on the arm of her chair. “I can’t see him being eager to burst their happy little bubble.”

Steve sighed through his nose, crossing his huge arms across his chest. The monitors beeped a lonely rhythm behind him.

“I”ll handle Bucky. Just get everything ready - make all the arrangements. Do what you have to do.”

***********

“So for dinner, I’m thinking…we still have that spaghetti squash in the fridge? I could whip up some kind of sauce to go with it…” she peaked her head up over the door of the fridge. “Sound good to you, Buck?”

Startled, Bucky’s head popped up from his phone.

“Uh, yeah sure,” he said, ducking back down and resuming the rapid movement of his thumb.

With a frown, Y/N hip-checked the door closed, bottles rattling inside.

“Are you listening to me, Bucky Barnes?” she asked, eyes narrowing as she leaned back against the fridge.

He looked up again - a well-developed sense of self-preservation kicked in when he caught that dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Yes - yes, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he sighed, sliding his phone into his back pocket. “Whatever you want for dinner is good - I’m fine with the spaghetti squash.”

She was never so easily distracted.

“What was so interesting?” she nodded his direction. “You’ve been glued to that thing all afternoon.”

Bucky’s shoulders dropped as he sighed, rounding the edge of the counters to approach her in the kitchen. Soft hands reached for her hips, reeling her in closer, sharing heat and heartbeats. The scent of his cologne drifted up on the air between them - spicy, warm, just subtle enough to remain sexy. He leaned in close and pressed his lisp to her forehead, devoted and sweet, and always properly apologetic.

“I”m sorry, baby,” he said, squeezing her waist softly. “It’s just Steve-”

“Steve?” She looked up at him with a frown, neat little line forming between her brows. “Steve has been blowing up your phone?”

“Yeah, I know.” He shook his head. “It sounds like total bullshit, but I swear that’s all.”

“What’s going on with Steve?”

Bucky sucked in a deep slow breath, hoping to hide his hesitation. Their “club business” had always taken first place, first priority…the job came first. The job was important. They were saving lives, putting away criminals. But now his girl was pouting at him in the kitchen, and he’s so tired, so goddamn tired all of a sudden - of all of it. Of being a public servant or a hero or whatever the hell. Of duty. He wants to pack it all up and just start driving. Move back to the city - or hell, even the suburbs would be nice. He’d take Y/N to Sunday dinner at his mom’s place; they’d move in together, and Y/N could decorate just how she wanted, and he’d sweat over rearranging the furniture and complain about trips to fuckin’ Ikea and all the other stuff that normal boyfriends got to do. In this moment, this inhale, he tasted it all, the life they could have. A dream they could build, together.

And all he had to do was come clean. About all of it.

In the space of an exhale, he faced it. He wanted this. It was on the tip of his tongue.

And then the next breath.

“Just club stuff,” he shrugged, feeling the weight of the lie dropping on her. “There’s…been a little drama between the members lately. Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

With another kiss to her forehead, he turned away and opened the fridge.

“I’ll put that spaghetti squash in this afternoon if you want me to,” he offered. “That way it’ll be ready when you get off work. Sound good?”

Y/N nodded mutely, pressing her lips into a smile. She had to admit it was nice having a boyfriend who was mildly competent in the kitchen.

“Okay, well, I’ve got to get in to the clinic,” she sighed, checking her watch. “Shit! I’ll be late.” Swinging her bag and lab coat over her shoulder, she gave him a final peck on the lips before bolting to the door.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Bucky called from the kitchen.

“Too cold!” was her reply - and then she was out the door.

Bucky stared at the closed door for a moment, one hip leaned against the counter, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. He just needed some time. Just a little more time to sort all this out. And then he’d tell her - the whole truth. Everything. And after, they could have a life together, something real, something safe, a home.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Steve again.

Call me. Now.

Even as he rolled his eyes at Steve’s flare for the dramatic, a little tremor seized Bucky’s heart. Dread hovered in the back of his mind as he swiped his thumb and dialed Steve’s number.

This could only go badly.

**********

One breath.

Inhale to exhale. That was how long it took for him to lie to her.

Cold fingers wrapped tight around the steering wheel, it was all she could think about. It scared the hell out of her, whatever it was he tried to hide in that breath, whatever he decided to keep from her. He’d never done that before…or had he? Did she know? Would she know? Would she be able to tell?

Calm down, Y/N. You’re overreacting. She lectured herself, cranking the heat in her car to a higher setting. A top 40 song, thumping beat and repeated lyrics, hummed faintly on the radio; she was running late enough that the morning talk show had already ended, moving on to the daily shuffle of hits and local business commercials. It all went unheard in the worried circle of her thoughts.

What could he have to hide? Unbidden, her mind flooded with horrible possibilities, every possible answer to that question, and each more horrible than the last. Was he cheating? Another woman was responsible for the constant barrage of text messages pinging his phone? Bucky was handsome, not to mention clever, flirtatious, romantic; she had no doubt he could get any woman he wanted. But his attention and affection for her hadn’t waned - just this weekend he’d planned a beautiful dinner for the two of them, followed by a homemade cheesecake he had slaved over for dessert, and then well…he was certainly still eager in the bedroom. The warning signs just weren’t there.

So what else? He’d never been secretive about the club before. Avengers business was Avengers business, but he’d never lied to her about it. It turned her stomach sour, and she regretted having those pancakes this morning, the cloying smell of syrup still on her hands making her want to pull over and vomit on the side of the road.

She knew she was working herself up, letting her mind run amuck, but she couldn’t stop herself. By the time she pulled her car into the parking lot of the clinic, she’d half made up her mind to turn right around, go home, and confront him. The image of herself, half-crazy with ideas of secret affairs or violence or drugs, marching into the house and accusing him of lying - it stopped her short.

God, why am I losing my shit over this? Y/N dropped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, the car idling in the lot, warm and safe from the harsh winter morning. She’d dealt with shitty men before, she’d survived bad boyfriends. It was impossible to make it very long as a woman without that experience. And yet, somehow, the memory of that paled in comparison to the devastating knowledge that Bucky was lying to her.

You love him. Oh god, she did, she loved him - she was in love with him.

She hurried out of the car and into the clinic, preferring to bury herself in wellness checks and vaccines and the flu than to keep thinking on it.

**********

At the reception desk, Charlotte stopped her before she could get to her office.

“Oh! You’re needed at the county hospital today.” She handed Y/N the note, written on robin’s egg blue stationary.

“I’m sorry? Why?” Y/N squinted at the note, a handwritten scribble. Charlotte shrugged.

“No real explanation - but the chief surgeon said that they could use an extra set of hands with all the flu cases they’ve got coming in.” She took a sip from her travel mug. “I’ve heard they’re a little overwhelmed down there, since they’re the closest treatment for a lot of people in the county.”

Y/N sighed, looking back out to her car. She hadn’t planned to drive the extra mileage out to the hospital today; not to mention it would probably make her late coming back for dinner tonight. Digging in her purse, she grabbed her phone and shot off a quick text to Bucky, explaining the change.

“Alright then,” she huffed, placing her purse back on her shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

With a wave to Charlotte and the other nurses, she was back out the door and heading to her car. This time around, she turned the radio up loud, singing along and tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and not thinking about this morning, or her own life, or anything at all.

**********

At the hospital, she was assigned to make rounds for one of their physicians who had called in sick. Simple enough. The elevator ride up was quiet, new nurses and doctors all quiet and polite, but holding down their conversations in the presence of a stranger.

She started on the third floor recovery ward, making her way down the hall door by door. Bedside manner was always one of her strengths; she could charm most patients with just a few words, breezing through her examinations and questions with ease. Chalk it up to customer service experience, but even the difficult patients usually treated her with gruff politeness, the insistence of her friendly manners forcing them to match with their own. Room by room, she checked charts and asked about pain levels and wrote prescriptions, the morning passing by in hours of sterile white tile and the smell of hand sanitizer.

Turning a corner onto the next ward, she was just looking up from her clipboard when she caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of red ducking into a doorway. Y/N hurried her steps, her cadence almost a jog as she tried to catch-

“Natasha?” She knew that hair, the back of her jacket, the set of her shoulders.

Nat was standing in the door of the hospital room, propping it open with one arm, head turned over her shoulder to stare at Y/N with weary eyes. Her face was pale, scrubbed clean of makeup, the bright baby hairs around her face twisting in tight little curls. At the sight of Y/N, she quirked the corner of her mouth up in an attempt at a smile, but it only managed to make her look more strained and exhausted.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N went on when she didn’t get an answer. Her eyes cut past Natasha to the dim fluorescence of the room behind her. “Is everything okay?”

Nat stared for another moment, her lips pressed tight together, jaw working back and forth. The hand she held on the door was curled in a small, tight fist, the peaks of her pale knuckles standing out against the long sleeve of her hoodie. Then, still silent, she stepped aside, gesturing for her friend to enter.

“Come in,” she said hoarsely. “We need to talk.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #biker!bucky fic #marvel fic #avengers fic

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wonwoosthetic · 7 years ago

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Just Best Friends | Part One || Sebastian Stan

MASTERLIST WHO I WRITE FOR

PART TWO

This one was for me personally I think quite hard to write because I wasn’t sure how exactly I would want it to end, I hope you like how it turned out :)

I am so sorry for the massive delay, but I still hope everyone, especially the person who sent it in, likes it!

This is my first ever request only about Sebastian, so thanks a lot to the person who requested it, I was very happy - I hope you enjoy it, as well as everyone else of course :)

Request by Anonymous: And then for seb i was thinking he spends time with his best friend who he has a huge crush on

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Just Best Friends

You and Seb had been best friends for quite a while. The day he walked into the classroom of your middle school, you knew there was something unique and interesting about this new kid. He had sat down next to you since it had been the only free seat and you got into a conversation. A proper conversation – it had been something quite and sadly rare for you, due to your shyness and anxiety about approaching other people – but Sebastian had introduced himself as a Romanian, who had just moved from Vienna to America and was then your new sitting partner pretty much everywhere. In the cafeteria, in the library, and in every classroom you had had the same lessons in. Very quickly your friendship had tightened and within a short amount of time, you had become best friends. Best friends you could only dream of being with someone.

During your shared school career each of you had developed their own interests and dreams - Sebastian’s being becoming an actor one day, whereas you went down the creative lane as well, but you had been more into writing and creating. You had wanted to become an author. Two dreams very different from each other, yet dreamy and achievable.

Flash forward a couple of years after graduating, you were sitting in one of the comfier chairs behind the cameras, watching your best friend shoot one of the last scenes, for the day, for Infinity War at eight a.m..

He had actually become an actor. And you… well and you, you had become a well-published author. Your eyes followed his every move, watching his concentration closely. He was the inspiration for your newest book you were writing, he just didn’t know it, and wasn’t supposed to. Seb had invited you to come onto the set and with a long and trustworthy talk with the Russo brothers, you were allowed to join the cast and crew for a couple of days. You and the Winter Soldier had planned out the entire day – since you had been wanting to move to Los Angeles to be closer to your best friend, you decided that it would be a good idea to stop at IKEA and have a look at new furniture because your old place was quite far away, it actually being in New York. Right after that, you had an appointment to look at two different apartments, hoping, one of them would be the right one.

Completely lost in thoughts, you didn’t notice Chris Evans standing in front of you waving his hands “(Y/N)? Are you still with us?”, he joked. His voice made you jump “Oh-what, sorry”, he smiled, “What is it?” “Your boyfriend is done, he had to go into mask really quickly, wanted me to tell you to get ready to head off.”

The entire cast always joked about you and Sebastian being in a relationship, due to him talking about you quite a lot, yet you had no idea how much it actually was.

--- Second Person, Sebastian --- (Does that make sense? Haha, I don’t know how to write that, please help – it’s still in the second person, but more focused on Sebastian’s actions)

He was sitting in one of the three chairs in the makeup trailer, waiting for the entire makeup to be finally taken off his face. His stylist, Margret, entered the room holding a cup of coffee in her right hand “Oh, you’re already here? I thought you would still chat with the rest, sorry”, she put the steaming cup on the surface in front of Sebastian.

Her comment made him smile “No problem. (Y/N)’s here, she wants to go furniture shopping and then also, I think, we’ll be taking a look at some apartments.” She started taking off his makeup “Oh my gosh, you’re finally moving in together?”, she got very excited and backed away to take a proper look at him, “No, SHE wants to move to L.A.”, he laughed.

Margret continued her work on his face “Oh please, she should just move in with you.” The female stylist was a big shipper of you and Sebastian and would do pretty much anything for him to finally confess his feelings towards you.

“But she wants to live by herself”, he defended you and himself, “And you know that how?”, she questioned and waited for an answer.

He didn’t know what to answer, he didn’t know if you actually wanted to love by yourself or if you would want to live with him.

“Thought so”, Margret smiled proudly.

Their conversation continued involving different subjects and Sebastian trying not talk about you when you entered the trailer “Hey, Maggie”, you greeted the forty-two-year-old woman whom you’ve got to know over the years on the set of the Captain America trilogy and now Infinity War. “Good Morning, (Y/N)”, she glanced at you, before turning her attention back to the actor, but continued talking to you “Heard you have a long day ahead.”

You took a seat on the chair to Sebastian’s left and looked smilingly at him “Well, someone has a big mouth.”

Seb held his arm up in a sign of defense “Don’t look at me”, making the three of you laugh out loud.

--- Forty Minutes Later ---

You held up a pleasant conversation and after about forty minutes your best friend looked like somewhat of a normal human being again, no longer wearing his fake metal arm. Sebastian and you walked out of the makeup trailer after saying goodbye to Margret and were making your way to his trailer.

“I’m just gonna change into more normal clothes and then we can head off, alright?”, he turned his face towards you “Yeah yeah, sure, no hurry, the meeting is at like four p.m., I think”, you answered. “Great”, he said while opening the door of his trailer for you to walk in first – you commented with a quiet “Thank you.”

After entering, the actor went right over to the small dresser in the corner and decided on a plain grey shirt and a pair of black coloured jeans. You sat down and took your phone out of the back pocket of your pants. Sebastian started taking off his top, not thinking about going to the small bathroom the trailer had, since you were friends and you had seen him in his boxers and/or swimming trunks. Your attention went from your phone to the topless man in front of you, who was turned away from you, giving you the opportunity to take a good look at his muscly back – you could tell, he worked out a lot for this role. He then took off his pants as well and you turned your gaze back to your phone, not wanting him to know that you looked at his clearly worked-out body. After the actor got his own jeans on, he turned back looking at you half lying on the sofa “Alright, let’s go!”

He tickled your feet, making you jump up “I’m up”, you laughed while exiting the small transportable home.

Together you walked to Sebastian’s car and started your journey to IKEA.

--- In IKEA ---

“Oh gosh, look Seb! This is SO cute!”, you shouted out loud, pointing at a small set of differently sized containers in pastel colours. Your best friend looked admiringly at you, smiling at your excitement and following your quick steps “They’re just containers”, he commented laughing. You entered one of the pre-furnished kitchens where the containers were set on the counter and walked up behind than to take a closer look “Yeah, they’re containers, but their colours are so cute, I love it”, you defended your love for cute clutter.

You walked around the Swedish furniture warehouse for quite a while, looking at all the different styled living rooms, kitchens, offices and were now at the bedroom section. (I know they have a different order in real life, but I had to make it like that, for the story to work)

Sebastian was looking around the room you were currently admiring “This is absolutely gorgeous. My bedroom will look like this.” “You have said this to at least three other bedrooms before we’ve seen this one, here”, he stated smiling at you. “Well, yes, but I haven’t seen this one up to this point, so…”, you commented on his statement, smiling back at him.

While you were walking around the room, gazing at all the small details, like clutter and decorations, Seb couldn’t help but to look at you, no, admiring you – you found beauty in the smallest things and got so happy just by being in IKEA. He had been looking at all those pre-furnished rooms with you, imagining some of the rooms being in your future house. He dreamed of laying in the bed he was currently sitting on, waiting for you, with you next to him, maybe even hearing small laughs from outside the door and little feet tapping around the wooden floor in the hallway-

“Sebba?”, you interrupted his daydream. He looked up into your eyes with his eyes being almost as big as golf balls “Yeah?” “You zoned out for quite a while, I think I’ve been talking to myself for at least five minutes. Are you OK?”, you laughed but still asked concerned. He simply nodded and got up from the very comfortable bed “You should get this bed, it’s really comfortable.” You took a quick look before throwing yourself into the big mass of differently sized pillows “You’re so right. Take one of those pieces of paper where it says what brand it is, please”, you asked him. “Sure”, he got one of those sheets and when he came back, he still saw your lying figure and the daydreams began again.

You, lying in your shared bed, exhausted from a long day, running around with the mini-yous. He was standing a couple feet away from the bed but approached the bed slowly to be near you. His body started over-towering you before he was about to kiss you-

“Sebastian? What’s going on?”, you were in front of him again, worried about his current mental state. “Nothing, I’m just tired”, he defended himself. You got even more worried than you already were “Should we leave? I can look at the apartments myself, you don’t have to be there.” “No, no, no, it’s fine. I’m gonna come with you.”

You nodded unsurely, taking a mental note to only look at one of the apartments instead of the two you had planned an appointment to look at and maybe even buy.

You carried on with your journey through the massive furnishing store and shortly before reaching the checkout, the two of you walked through the kid’s section. Sebastian didn’t want the daydreams to start again because at the thought of having kids with you, he just completely melted, so he decided to joke around a bit – he found a Kermit The Frog stuffed toy and started messing around with you. He took the toy and hid behind a big rack waiting for you to pass him. As you walked passed your best friend, he extended his arm, making Kermit jump out “Hello, beautiful, I’m Kermit, and you are?”, making you jump as well. After getting scared, you tried catching your breath before ranting at Sebastian “Sebastian Stan, do you know how much of a heart attack you just gave me?” He came out of his hiding spot, wearing a smug smirk on his face

“But you’re still here with me, so everything’s fine.” You shook your head laughing, continuing your walk with the actor close behind you “You know, Kermit is pretty beaten down because you didn’t give him his name”, you turned around and slapped him on his upper left arm “Stop it, idiot.” If he only knew, he was so much more than just an idiot to you. He was your idiot. “Idiot, yourself”, was the best comeback he could come up with and even then, he knew, you were his idiot. In his dreams.

After managing to make your way out of IKEA, you had an additional plant and two bag of sweets with you, and were then making your way to the apartment you were hoping to possibly buy – you wanted to get your own as soon as possible, to stop always having to sleep at Sebastian’s place whenever you visit Los Angeles – you thought you annoyed him, but if you only knew, that having you out of the house was the last thing he would have wanted.

--- At The Apartment ---

The location was a bit more outside of the city but was surrounded by beautiful and even quite old buildings, making it look nothing like the L.A. you knew. “This is absolutely gorgeous”, you admired everything around you after Sebastian helped you to get out of the car by opening the door and extending his hand, as a gentleman would. “Yeah, it’s pretty amazing”, he let his gaze move around before it landing on the building he remembered from the online website, that you had been looking at for about two weeks straight “This is it”, he nodded towards it.

You turned around and took a proper look at it, having it a bit more beautiful in mind “Let’s go”, you clapped and headed forwards. You didn’t have anyone to show you around since according to the website, you could just go and take a look and make an offer after seeing it. Right when you opened the front door to the hallway on the ground floor, a smell of something rotting hit you immediately, making you put your hand over your nose and mouth “Oh my gosh, what the heck?”, you cursed. Sebastian followed right after, In the same position “What died in here?”, he questioned loud enough for you to hear, getting you to laugh – the sound of an angel in his ears.

The both of you headed up the stairs, looking for the apartment door with a ‘4’ on it, which you found very easily. Opening the door to your possible future apartment, the bad smell slowly got better, and Sebastian and you removed your hands from your face. You looked around the living room you then stood in suspiciously, looking for everything that would probably be wrong with it, due to its hallway already looking like people do who knows what in there. After only a couple of seconds, you found wet spots all over the walls, while Sebastian found out that there was the entire bathroom missing “Great, the entire wall will be moldy in at least three days”, you huffed out annoyingly and done when Seb came back “I don’t want to make the situation worse-“ Before he could continue, you interrupted him kindly, yet still annoyed “You couldn’t make the situation worse.” “Well… there’s no bathroom”, his comment made you turn around to look at him “What? What do you mean, there’s no bathroom?”

Instead of answering, he nodded for you to follow him. You reached the ‘bathroom’, well it was more of a five square-meter room, which had absolutely nothing in it, besides tubes sticking out of its floor – the apartment was for sure not what it looked like online.

“This could absolutely not get any worse”, you commented at the end of your nerves. Sebastian opened his arms to hug him, which you obviously did when suddenly there was a female voice from one of the apartments above you “Let the rat out of the door!”, she screamed. “Oh my, you can’t be serious”, you muttered while backing away from the Winter Soldier and went back to the living room, him following you.

You started pacing around the room “What on earth is all this? This apartment is NOTHING to what it looked like on the website. What am I supposed to do? What-“

Sebastian just started at you. Yes, you were angry and ranting about everything that was wrong about that place, but all he could think was how beautiful you were. How, even when you were at the end of your temper, you still looked like the most gorgeous woman/girl he had ever lied his eyes on, so his next comment just slipped out of his mouth

“Move in with me.”

You instantly stopped talking and turned your attention towards the man standing right in front of you

“What?”, you laughed.

---

So, that was it, I really hoped you enjoyed it and I’m very thankful for you taking your time :)

I worked really hard on this, so I hope everyone enjoys it, especially the person, that sent it in - I’m sooo sorry for the long wait, but I hope you still like it!

I hope you have/had a wonderful day/night! :)

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