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y0itsbri · 3 years

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gallavich week 2021 - day 3 - travel au as always inspo from @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings

Stuck with You

Words: 5.5k

Summary: A winter storm strands a desperate-to-return-to-Chicago Ian at the airport with no car. A dark-haired mysterious man in an expensive-looking leather jacket and sunglasses seems to be his only hope. Ian grows suspicious of the man's true intentions as they embark on their road trip with some funky excursions. The two men find what need they most in each other.

"Fiona, I'm literally at the gate. I'm about to board now!" Ian was lying straight out of his ass as he was running through the bustling airport, dragging his bag as fast as the bent-as-all-hell wheels on the suitcase would allow him. He had not, in fact, woken up to his first alarm... or second. Maybe he was running extremely late despite Fiona's near-constant nagging to get there early in case something happens again.

Ian mumbled a quiet "Fuck" as his suitcase's wheel locked up again. He did not have time for this. His huffed cursing was apparently heard by Fiona's supersonic hearing. A woman in white capris glared his way. Okay, maybe it wasn't that quiet.

"Ian!" Fiona's voice rang through his phone. She sounded frantic and exhausted. She had every right to be, but Ian was not in the mood for an early morning guilt trip. "What happened? And you better stop fuckin' lying to me and get your ass-"

"Fi, I gotta go, love you, talk to you later, promise," he mumbled all the formalities as genuinely as he could muster before he hung up. He had tuned his attention into his surroundings and noticed an absurd about of people hovered around the rent-a-car station while the airport gates nearly empty, except for the occasional airport employees trying to reason with irritated passengers.

Sure enough, something did happen, as Fiona would have happily predicted. There was a massive winter storm and all flights had been delayed until further notice. Ian idly walked to his gate just to make sure he wasn't going to miss his plane like he had the day before. The gate was a fuckin' ghost town besides one man in an expensive-looking studded leather jacket and shiny dark hair to match. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of purple sunglasses, despite the fact that they were currently indoors.

Ian instinctively stepped closer to the man to maybe strike up a conversation. It wasn't something he was so fond of doing, but if he was trapped at an airport, he might as well make friends. Anything to distract his anxious thoughts about not making it back to Chicago in time for his interview. He couldn't even look at his phone, knowing Fiona was probably blowing it up right now about how he has to get his shit together. He knows.

In the midst of his inner debate, Ian oh-so-gracefully tripped over a chair -- the wheels of his suitcase coming to a halt, causing the bag to loudly clang against a nearby pole.

The man jumped up with a startle, yanking off his glasses and swiftly reaching into his boot and pulling out a small knife. He slowly took in the fact that there was no threat -- just a giant blushing ginger wincing at the knife pointed his direction.

The man sighed and tucked his knife away, "Shit, I thought you were trying to rob me or something."

Ian eyed a small black backpack tucked behind the man's legs. That bag was sleek and tiny compared to Ian's nightmare of a bag.

"Ain't look like you got much to steal," Ian joked, immediately regretting his decision to be witty after literally just being held at knifepoint. Maybe the mysterious man would appreciate his charm.

The man frowned. Okay, maybe Ian's humor wasn't for everyone.

"And how did you get that knife through security?" Ian asked in attempt to ease the tension a bit.

"None of your damn business." The man retorted shortly, but his eyes lingered over Ian for a moment longer, amused.

"Right." Ian replied after a moment. That was fair. He was a stranger, after all. But there was something about this man that was so intriguing. The man stood nearly half a foot shorter than Ian and clearly had the personality to make up for it. Ian was most definitely not in the mood to almost get stabbed again so he decided to lay off the talking, making an obvious show of adverting his gaze from the gorgeous leather-clad man in front of him.

"Uh.. hey," the man spoke up again as he looked around the terminal. "Did I miss the flight or did everyone just get abducted by aliens or some shit?"

Ian was amused at the aliens bit. Who even was this guy?

"It looks like all flights are delayed. Some freak super-storm coming in, don't want any crashes or anything."

"Buncha pussies," the dark-haired man grumbled as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Shut up, Ian, shut up shut up shut up.

"Rent-a-car? Is that okay with you?" The guy pulled his bag over his shoulder, but turned his gaze back to Ian.

"Uh, yeah, I mean -- sorry, never mind." Nice going, Ian.

"I'm just busting your balls, man. Just gotta get back to Chicago before the weekend. Can't just sit around like a little bitch and wait for a storm to pass like some people." The enigmatic man teased him.

Ian rolled his eyes, but followed him like a lost puppy. "You're not the only one. I have an interview in Chicago in two days and I really can't miss it." Ian pointed back towards the rent-a-car area when the man didn't question him any further. "Don't think you'll have much luck with that, by the way. They looked almost sold outta cars when I walked past here earlier."

"So you walked past the rent-a-car instead of actually getting one? Real smart, Stumbles."

Ian cringed at the nickname. So much for first impressions. The man pulled out his phone from the tight pocket of his pants and stopped abruptly, Ian almost losing his balance to keep from stumbling into the guy. Again. Ian was literally swept up off his feet by this dude. He had to get himself in control before he lost what remained of his dignity.

"Ey' Dimitri, I need a car." The guy said into the phone. Ian awkwardly waited around. It wasn't like they made any plans of travelling together but they were in the middle of a conversation, he couldn't just leave. It wouldn't be polite. Not that much about this guy was polite to begin with. But they had something going at least. The phone conversation got heated very quickly. Now Ian could very clearly see why he was the type of person to have a knife in arm's reach at any given notice.

"I know you have fuckin' plenty. I'll drop it off next time I see Yevgeny, you know I'm good for it. I gotta job this weekend- It is your fuckin' business when your bitch of a wife- Oh c'mon, you can admit she's a bit of a bitch. Whatever- Or do you wanna tell Svetlana that your incompetent ass is the reason why she ain't getting her payment- or do you plan on paying for that shit? Didn't think so. Black cat. Red one."

There was definitely a lot to unpack and as curious as Ian was, he was definitely not gonna ask... yet.

"Red, you comin'?" The dark-haired man called over his shoulder as he started heading towards the airport's exit.

"Me?" Way to play it cool, Ian.

"No. The other giant ginger standing behind you. Yes, you."

"My name's Ian, by the way."

"Don't care."

"Where are we going?"

"Chicago."

Together but not together, they waited for... Dimitri, maybe? The shorter man beside Ian was tapping around on his phone and hadn't said a word about their plans beyond the simple 'Chicago.'

Right as Ian got the nerve to ask, a sleek black jaguar came to a halt on the street in front of them. Ian only knew a bit about cars because his brother liked fixing them up -- and man, was this a sick car. Lip would be jealous. Ian fought the urge to take a photo of the car -- unsure what the boundaries were in situations like this.

Ian's mystery man sauntered over to the driver's seat, exchanging a loaded handshake before switching places with the driver, who was apparently not Dimitri.

The passenger side window rolled down, revealing a bright red interior. "Coming, princess?"

Ian placed his suitcase in the backseat before hopping in the front himself.

"Do I ever get to know your name, princess?" Ian teased back. But he was genuinely curious.

The guy smirked, "Buckle up. I ain't slowing down for anything." And true to his word, they sped out of the parking lot, earning a few well-deserved horns from cars that they had cut off. Ian cringed.

Ian waited until they were on the interstate to speak again, not wanting to be the cause for an accident with this guy's hectic driving and the snow lightly falling on the road in front of them. Maybe he shouldn't be getting into cars with mysterious strangers. Maybe he should have thought of that before he did, in fact, get into a car with a mysterious stranger.

Ian decided to try again, "Ya know, if you don't tell me your name, I'm just going to start calling you something real stupid, like Bob or Cookie or Raven."

"Raven is actually kinda badass." The man replied, not taking his eyes off the road, but the side of his mouth quirking upward.

This guy was impossible, "Ugh."

"Ya know, you're kind of annoying for a passenger who should be grateful that I'm saving your ass. I could dump you on the side of the road, make you hitch hike all the way to Chicago or wherever the hell you end up. Probably some real weirdos out there wanting to pick up a pretty boy like you."

"Didn't ask to be saved." Ian blushed despite his best efforts to play it cool.

"No? So you were just following me all around the airport, why?" He glanced at Ian this time.

Yeah, he had a point. "Like I said, I got an interview I can't miss. My sister set it up for me and she would actually have my ass if I fucked this up. I'm talking like this-is-the-final-straw." Ian sighed, running his hands up and down his face.

"Hmm. You'll make it. I'm a good driver." He smirked. He lifted his hand off the wheel as if he were about to touch Ian's shoulder or something, but decided against it at the last second.

"Good and fast are not equivalent." Ian's breath hitched.

"Says you." The guy drummed his fingers.

"Says most people. And probably the cops." Ian was not about to spend a night in the slammer.

"Fuck the cops." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah."

The conversation died down and a rock ballad lulled over the car's exquisite sound system. Damn, this was a nice car.

"Mickey." The guy murmured, barely audible over the bass.

"What?" Like the mouse?

"My name's Mickey, by the way." He glanced over at Ian.

Oh. "Kinda badass." Ian returned with eye contact a smirk.

Mickey smiled at the road ahead of them.

"Mornin', Sleeping Beauty." Mickey called out from the driver's seat, patting Ian's shoulder. Ian could have sworn Mickey's hand lingered a bit longer than necessary, but maybe he was just reading into the interaction.

Ian must have fallen asleep sometime during the drive, because now they were parking in the parking lot of a diner. Red neon lights highlighted the exterior, giving the place a sultry vibe. Odd vibe for an off-the-road diner, but Ian supposed it could be weirder.

Mickey hopped out of the car and shoved his hands into the pocket in his leather jacket, searching for something.

After a moment, Ian slowly stretched his legs out as he crawled out of the car and found Mickey smoking a cigarette while leaning against the hood of the car. It was picture perfect. Mickey hadn't noticed him emerge yet, so Ian decided to give into his urges as he snapped a picture of the beautiful man in front of him -- all black shadows and glowing red.

Ian closed the car door and Mickey stubbed out his cigarette and led them inside. "Usual table," he said to the hostess, who led them to a table set for two towards the back of the establishment.

Yeah, this was weird. Who the fuck had a 'usual table' at a joint off the highway in the middle of nowhere?

Inside hung the heads of exotic animals that Ian hoped were fake. Once they were sat across from each other, Mickey ordered a short stack of pancakes and Ian ordered a hamburger and fries -- the first thing he saw on the menu.

"So, brunch and tigers? What is this place?" Ian mused, curiosity and now suspicion overtaking him.

"Cool, huh? Got connections." Mickey went back to rearranging the condiments and sugars on their table.

"Mhm." Ian was skeptical, but didn't want to pry. He seemed to be on this guy's good side for now.

Ian spent the better part of their stay just taking in everything around them. The walls were lined with playing cards, posters from bands he's never heard of, bizarre news articles, lights swung and tacked up with a casual precision, literal jewelry and crowns under display cases, and he could've sworn there was sparkles mixed into the red paint covering the walls. It was like a goblin's cave or something.

Occasionally, he would look up at Mickey, who would look away almost instantly -- like he'd been caught in the middle of something. Planning something? Ian couldn't tell if Mickey's cheeks were actually blushing red or if it was just the lighting. Probably for the best because Ian blushed like a motherfucker whenever he held Mickey's eyes for too long.

Luckily, the waitress brought over their food before Ian could say something stupid. Ian's hamburger and fries were places in a classic red boat with black and white checkered paper. The burger was massive and had a flamingo pick placed in the center of it. Mickey's pancakes were covered in bananas, blueberries, and powdered sugar. The waitress also set down a glass elephant bottle filled with, what looked like, maple syrup. The waitress just smiled at them and walked away without another word. This place was strange. And Ian couldn't shake that feeling.

About halfway through eating, Ian had enough of the odd vibes and promptly excused himself to go to the bathroom. He had to get out of here, forgo his luggage in the fancy ass car. He didn't care if he'd have to hitch hike at this point. He washed his hands in the bathroom sink, planning when to make his escape, when the door swung open.

"Ian." Mickey looked genuinely concerned. No stupid nickname. Ian. "What's wrong, man? You looked pretty sick back there. Is it food poisoning? I'll give Anakin a fuckin' piece of my mind if he didn't cook that fuckin' burger. He knows better than to fuck with me." He rattled off.

Ian felt flighty and tried to take off during Mickey's rage-induced ramble but an arm gripped his bicep, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey, Ian, look at me." That was the problem. Ian couldn't stop looking at him. He would probably do anything he asked. And that was fucking dangerous. He was a stranger with connections. That couldn't lead to anything good.

Ian finally made eye contact and the grip on his arm loosened, gently sliding towards his wrist before falling back to Mickey's side.

"Promise me you won't kill me." Ian blurted out.

Mickey's eyebrows nearly flew off his face, "Kill you? Where the fuck is this coming from? You think I hate you or something?"

"Well, maybe, I don't know. This is weird."

"Maybe." Mickey paused, actually making an effort to see this whole strange situation from Ian's perspective. "But I like weird."

Ian stayed silent.

"I promise I'm not going to kill you. I promise that I'm going to get you back to Chicago for your interview. I promise we're all good, okay?"

The tension in Ian's shoulder's visibly relaxed and he released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. But that confession still doesn't explain this weird excursion.

"Why does everyone here know you?" Ian finally asked, swallowing his nerves.

This was not a conversation for the men's bathroom, but here they were anyways.

Mickey looked a bit embarrassed. "Used to live a few towns over with my ex-wife-"

"Ex-wife?" Ian nearly choked.

"Svetlana. Fuckin' disaster. But I used to come here with my son, Yev, on special occasions when his mom was out. He always loved it -- thought he was the king or some shit."

"Oh."

"Don't see the kid as much anymore, but this place still has the best fuckin' pancakes so we go when we can."

"So this isn't a sting operation to kidnap me?"

Mickey rolled his eyes, "You're an idiot. I actually happen to like you."

"Yeah, me too."

"So glad you like yourself, champ."

"Oh, fuck me." Ian groaned.

"Maybe later." Mickey smiled too sweetly for someone who had just insinuated what they had.

They returned to their table, finishing off what they could. Mickey had insisted he pay for both of their meals -- reparation for nearly giving Ian a heart attack and fleeing off to fucking Mexico or something. The waitress collected their tab and walked away with a wink, "Have fun tonight, boys."

"See ya 'round, Geneva." Mickey called, "Always in my fuckin' business." But Ian could tell it was meant with nothing but fondness.

Mickey held gave a two finger salute to the hostess on his way out before holding the lion-studded doors and turning to face Ian, "We're in this together, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ian didn't fall asleep in the car this time. Instead, they played the license plate game and carried impersonal conversation in between stops at gas stations and fast food restaurants.

"Books or movies?" Ian read from his phone.

"What kind of fuckin' question is that?"

"From the online list you made me look up!"

"Yeah, because you suck at coming up with questions!"

"Whatever. Books or movies?"

"Movies, duh."

"Aw, c'mon, you don't like books? When was the last time you even read a book?"

Mickey flipped him off, "What about you, smartass? You prefer books over movies?"

"Well, no..."

"Well, exactly."

"Cats or dogs?" Ian asked. "I've never had either, but dogs are cool."

"Yeah, 'cause you act like one."

Ian gasped, mocking an expression of hurt. "I bet you're a dog person, though."

"Yeah, why're you so sure about that?"

"They're all tough and shit."

"I got a cat back home. She's tougher than any dog I know."

"What's her name?"

"Indy."

"Aw, softy."

"It's short for Indica, clearly we're cool."

Ian gave an even more exaggerated "Aww."

"Shut up, next question."

They had missed the worst of the winter storm that had threatened their flight and gotten them in this situation to begin with. It was starting to get dark and while Mickey assured Ian that he could drive through the night, Ian insisted they could stop at a hotel and still make it back before his interview. Truthfully, he didn't want to be involved in a luxury car crash with a maybe Russian mobster. He couldn't pinpoint Mickey, but that's what he had currently decided on.

They had pulled off into the lot of a pink hotel. Mickey had gotten them two rooms, side-by-side. Instead of going up to his room and passing out like Ian had expected, Mickey headed straight towards the hotel bar -- ordering a mojito and a vodka tonic and making friendly talk with the waitress in a very low cut red shirt like they were old friends. Mickey was nothing like Ian expected.

Ian headed up to his room to drop off his suitcase and call Fiona back, sure she was going to disown him right then and there for avoiding her calls all day.

Ian opted against going down to the bar and instead watched reruns on the hotel tv. Alcohol didn't really mix well with his meds and he didn't want a hangover if they were going to be in a car all day tomorrow -- especially a nice car like that. Yeah, he wasn't puking in that anytime soon if he could help it.

He took a long, hot shower, indulging in the hotel's eucalyptus-scented body wash before settling in for the night.

Ian was resting peacefully until he heard a blood-curdling scream next door. Mickey was next door. Mickey.

Ian leapt out of bed, grabbing nothing but his shirt before frantically knocking on Mickey's door. C'mon Mickey, don't be dead. C'mon. C'mon.

Mickey swung open the door rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Ian?"

"Uh, hi. I heard screaming. Just making sure you're not being murdered."

"Shit, yeah. I get night terrors sometimes. I meant to mention that to you, but it must have slipped my mind after a few drinks. Didn't see you down there?"

"I called it an early night," Ian replied guiltily. He felt bad if Mickey was waiting for him. But he didn't know.

"Yeah... anything else?" Mickey looked Ian up and down. Ian was suddenly hyper aware he was standing in front of Mickey in only his boxers.

"Um, no." Ian glanced around nervously.

"Great." Mickey shut the door. Whatever. Ian turned to open his door, but it wouldn't open. He searched his pants for the key card only to be reminded that he was not, in fact, wearing pants. Fucking great indeed.

Ian knocked on Mickey's door again.

"What?" He grumbled with a tooth pick between his teeth. "'m not fuckin' screamin' anymore."

"I locked myself out."

"Of course you did." Mickey rubbed a hand down his face, "You ain't goin' down to the front desk in your underwear and I'm not goin' down there either so it looks like you can either come with me or sleep in the hallway, your choice."

Some choice.

Ian followed Mickey into his room, the same layout as Ian's -- just mirrored. Mickey tossed a blanket at him and then collapsed back into the pillows himself.

Ian tried to make himself comfortable on the ground but all he was going to do was bruise his fuckin' spine and freeze his ass off because apparently Mickey likes to sleep in Antarctica.

"Fuckin' cold." Ian mumbled, cocooned in his one tiny hotel-grade blanket that hardly covered his long body.

Mickey didn't open his eyes, but he lifted the comforter on the bed, "Get in here, Frosty."

Ian hesitated. But he was really fucking cold. He made sure not to touch Mickey at all as he crawled under the covers, laying as still as he could on the edge of the mattress. Mickey sighed and scooted his back into Ian's chest, grabbed Ian's arm, and draped it around his waist. "There."

Ian was still for a moment before settling into the warmth.

"Mickey." He said softly. He wasn't even sure if Mickey had heard him.

"What?"

"Is that your real name? Mickey?"

Mickey sighed, "Mikhailo."

"Hmm. I like Mikhailo. It's like Mick-halo, like you're an angel."

"Baby, you've met me. There ain't nothing good about me. I'm more like the devil."

"Why's that?"

"Dude, I almost knifed you when we first met."

"I had that coming, though."

"Maybe so."

"Is that all?"

"Fuckin' terrorized my neighborhood as a kid."

"Me too, you ain't special. Got anything else?"

"I'm a raging homo."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Me too. Anything else?"

"Can't do enough for my own kid."

Ian was quiet so Mickey continued.

"Svet won't keep him in Chicago where my job is. I don't wanna be the asshole to choose work over my kid, but I can't just up and leave, either."

"Yeah, but it sounds like you visit him a lot. He must know you love him, though. Bet you're a better father than mine."

"Yeah, mine too. Ain't hard to beat. He's a real dick. I don't wanna be anything like that piece of shit."

Ian squeezing his grip around Mickey's waist. "You're not. I'm still betting you're all things good."

"Hmm."

"Guess we'll just have to see."

"Guess so."

A moment passed before Mickey spoke again.

"Go to sleep, stupid."

"Goodnight, Mick-halo."

Ian nestled his head into Mickey's hair, smelling the eucalyptus on his as well. The two not-strangers drifted off together.

Ian woke up after Mickey, who was already packing up his oddly tiny back pack again. And Ian's suitcase. He took a moment to recall last night's events.

"How the fuck did you get that?"

"Morning to you, too." Mickey tossed a prepacked muffin at Ian's half asleep body. "Went to the front desk for a spare key after continental breakfast, duh. Eat up, we're leaving in 10."

Ian groaned and pulled the covers over his head. He felt a weight on the mattress beside him. He peeked from behind the blanket to see that Mickey had sat down and was currently staring at his legs? Ass? Who knew. Turns out 'thighs' was the correct answer as he set his hand on the outer part of Ian's right thigh. Just resting it there for a moment before getting up.

"Fine, we're leaving in 15."

Satisfied, Ian closed his eyes for a few minutes, feeling the ghost of Mickey on his leg. He was so warm. It was like his heart was on fire.

They ended up leaving 10 minutes after Mickey's initial 15 were up. But it wasn't Ian's fault that there was a hold-up at the front desk. Something about a scheduling conflict between a drag show and a speech contest. Hell, Mickey thought they should combine the two events and call it a day.

Back in the car, Mickey had some upbeat indie music playing this morning while they circled around the old town to find a gas station.

"Ya want anything?" Mickey asked before he turned away from the pump and towards the building, patting down his ass to make sure he had his wallet.

Ian was distracted by the patting for a moment before replying. "Uh, maybe a Gatorade or something?"

Mickey tapped the hood of the car twice instead of replying verbally, but the message was received nonetheless.

Ian pulled up the picture he had taken yesterday of Mickey in front of the bizarre diner, moments before he thought he was being hunted for sport. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

After a moment, the driver's side door swung open, "Whatcha lookin' at, Smiles? Texting your girlfriend?" Mickey teased as he closed the gas tank and hopped in with a coffee balancing in one hand and three different flavors of Gatorade in the other.

"Nothing." Damn, Ian. Like that ain't an obvious lie.

"Ain't nothing, lemme see." Mickey took Ian's phone and dropped the Gatorades on his lap.

"Ouch! Well, thanks -- for these -- but give me my phone back!"

"Is that me?"

No sense in lying now. He was literally looking at it. "Uh, yeah. Thought it looked cool."

"That's dope as fuck, man. Send that shit to me, I wanna post it on my Instagram."

Ian certainly hadn't expected that response. But when had Mickey ever been what he expected?

"I don't have your number." And he wasn't asking for his number like some school girl. Mickey had literally requested he send him something. Ian had no idea why he felt so ridiculously nervous.

"Gimme." Mickey made grabby hands for the phone and began to plug in his number before Ian realized that this definitely counted as distracted driving in a very nice car. "Done."

Done.

The morning and afternoon went by pretty quickly. Mickey sang along to some pop songs while drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Ian took some photos of the inside of the car, earning some light teasing from Mickey. Shut up, this might be my only time in a car worth more than ten grand.

Ian watched the highway and the grass blurring past his window when he suddenly remembered the small notepad and pen he had swiped from Mickey's hotel room.

Mickey looked pretty distracted, so Ian took it out and began to sketch his profile. The man was too beautiful. He couldn't help himself. With a burst of confidence, he added a note to it before ripping the page out and sticking it in the side pocket of Mickey's back pack. If Mickey saw him, he didn't say anything -- for once -- and Ian was glad for that.

They were nearing Illinois state lines, so they had to get into travel specifics. Ian gave him the address to his apartment. Both being Southside, Mickey knew the area well enough that he wouldn't need directions until last minute.

Ian figured now was as good as time as any to ask, "What are you doing in Chicago?"

Mickey made a face like he was thinking about how much he wanted to explain to Ian. "Well, for one, I live there. Second, you've seen my tattoos right?" He held out his knuckles reading FUCK U-UP. Ian nodded and Mickey relaxed one hand back onto the steering wheel before continuing, "Tattoos were a family ritual. I help my brothers on runs when they need it -- those idiots can't plan for shit by themselves. Makes good money though. I also work part-time at this high-end restaurant downtown. Satisfies my sister that I have a legit job. Ain't too bad either. Lotta sketchy shit goes on, though, but they know I'm good to look the other way for a low low price." He grinned.

"Damn, you sure are something," Ian mused.

"Yup yup. What about you hot-shot? What's the whole deal with this interview?"

Ian sighed. "Never finished high school and uh, I have a mood disorder thing so a lot of places won't even consider me. Got fired from my last job for snapping at the dickhead manager --which was well-deserved by the way -- but still stupid. My sister, Fiona, got me this interview with the magazine company she works for -- she thinks I'm so sick like our mother and that if I don't have a job to keep me stable that I'll just fuck off. But the job would be really cool because I've been into photography and shit since like forever. I don't know, it's stupid. But I really just can't stand to let anyone down again, because I am better. They just don't always believe me."

Mickey frowned, and Ian worried he shared too much. But then Mickey rested his hand on Ian's thigh, "Hey, man. That sounds cool. But it's okay to not be okay. Just be honest with me, and I believe you. Promise?"

"Promise."

Ian's apartment was in sight before he knew it. It was starting to get dark out, but he would still be able to get a good night's sleep before his interview in the morning. Mickey's car definitely did not belong in his neighborhood. It stood out like a sore thumb. He couldn't stay for long if he wanted to leave with the car in tact.

Mickey helped Ian get his suitcase out of the backseat and then leaned against the car, watching Ian with a strange look in his eye. Before Ian could ask, Mickey stalked over to him and leaned up, and pressed his lip's against Ian's. He smelled so sweet. It wasn't the eucalyptus shampoo either -- that had long faded. This was just pure Mickey. Mikhailo.

The moment was over too soon and Ian groaned. Mickey gently patted his cheek, "Don't worry, big guy, you ain't gettin' rid of me this easy. I'll see you soon."

"Soon." Ian repeated back, still a bit dazed in the head.

Mickey smirked as he hopped back into the jaguar and sped off to wherever the fuck it is that Mickey goes.

Ian lugged his bag upstairs, unlocked his door, and plopped down on the couch.

Soon.

After texting Fiona one last time, Ian had turned his phone off to avoid any distractions. Giving in to the urge to text Mickey would definitely be a distraction. He needed routine. At least for tonight.

It was a relatively quiet night in terms of activities. He had microwaved a frozen dinner and watched a couple episodes of Schitt's Creek before taking his meds, brushing his teeth, and heading to bed.

No matter how chill of a night he was planning on having, his mind kept racing with thoughts of Mickey with everything he did. That man was so cool and funny and kind, even if he didn't believe it himself. Ian didn't know what exactly had caused such a reign of self-doubt over him, but they would talk about it someday. Ian wanted him to see how good he was. Mickey just brought long-vanished excitement to Ian's life again. He trusted him and cared for him. And he missed him. They had only spent two days together, but Ian couldn't imagine sleeping without him. He drifted off to sleep thinking about what Mickey would look like in his bed with him.

Ian had gotten up at his first alarm for once and arrived to the interview 15 minutes early. He was genuinely passionate about this job so it was easy to turn up his charm. He would hear a call back later that afternoon, but given that he was pretty sure Fiona was sleeping with his would-be boss's boss, he was almost certain he would get the job.

Ian finally turned his phone on when he got home. One message from Fiona -- reminding him of the interview. But more importantly, three from Mickey. He immediately clicked on Mickey's name, absolutely no use in playing it cool anymore. He couldn't get him out of his head.

Mickey (9:27pm): *image attachment*

Mickey (9:27pm): found this in my bag, i wonder how it got there🤔

Mickey (7:32am): good luck at your interview! hope it was worth literally dragging your ass across the country for

Ian smiled.

Ian (10:06am): I have absolutely no idea how that drawing got there. Maybe trolls? 😇

Ian (10:07am): And your luck helped! I think the interviewer liked me :)

Mickey (10:07am): hopefully he didnt like you too much

Ian (10:09am): SHE liked me a very healthy amount.

Mickey (10:10am): gonna keep it that way

Ian (10:12am): 🙄 Oh Mick. Can't be jealous over something you don't have.

Mickey (10:15am): i have you right where i want you dont you worry your pretty little head

Ian (10:17am): So you think I'm pretty is what I'm hearing?

Mickey (10:18am): i think your annoying go away

Ian (10:19am): I thought I couldn't get rid of you that easy?

Mickey (10:19am): changed my fucking mind

Their texting banter came to a halt when Mickey picked up a shift at his legitimate job. Ian unpacked his ratty old suitcase and cleaned up his apartment while he waited for his phone to ring. From the job... from Mickey.

Right when he was switching loads of laundry, his phone rang. It would be a lie if he said he didn't drop everything and run.

It was his new boss him on his new job. He couldn't hold back his grin as he immediately texted Mickey, then Fiona. He was proud of himself.

Fiona called and they chatted about the job -- omitting the part where he assumed she was sleeping with the boss -- and Ian's road trip -- omitting the part where he kissed his once assumed kidnapper -- and then about Fiona's kids and Carl's lately stunt. He was so invested in his little criminal brother that he almost didn't hear the knock at his door.

"Fi, I gotta call you back. I think I have a delivery or something." Ian wasn't expecting anything.

Ian nearly leapt backwards when he cautiously opened his door (there were no damn peepholes in his building) to find Mickey waiting on his doormat with a grin on his face. "Congrats on the job, man!"

"Oh my God. You're here?"

"Yeah, I told you I would see you soon. I'm a man of my word. And I brought cupcakes." Always the unexpected. "Well minus one. I didn't know which apartment was yours and I went to your neighbor's first and he wouldn't tell me where you lived without a fuckin' cupcake. Greedy asshole." He murmured, quietly smiting the old bastard.

"Mickey." Ian smiled, eyes crinkling with it. "You're good. You're so good."

#gw2021 #gw2021day3 #gallavich week 2021 #shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #my posts #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fanfiction

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kopikokun · 4 years

Text

Tell Me What You Want Me to Do to You༄ mark l.

↳ On an awfully planned trip with your best friend Mark, the place you end up spending the night in is not what you had in mind. Oh well, at least Mark’s there to keep you company. And apparently, he’s a pretty great kisser too.

pairing: bestfriend!mark x f!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, friends to lovers, college!au

wordcount: 1.8k words

author’s note: i’m so sorry that i can’t add the ‘keep reading’ thing. i’ve tried, but every time i do it, the whole post gets wonky and i can’t edit it on mobile anymore. i’ve even tried desktop tumblr but the same thing happens :(

Request 32: Mark + “I need a hug.” (42) + “Stop being so cute.” (67) + “Put me down!” (153) + “There’s only one bed...” (154) [F2L + Suggestive]

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

In hindsight, a trip with your best friend sounded like a more than sound idea. The two of you had combined what limited knowledge you had about general adulting, scrounged up most that you could considering your financial situations as two college kids, and, in essence, had made things worked.

Or at the very least, you think, eyes scanning the room, taking in the general gist of the next addition to your mountain of already existing issues, made things happen.

And to answer a question; yes, there is a significant difference between work and happen.

Mark sighs wearily. It’s most likely due to the ridiculously lengthy car ride the two of you had been subjected to just to get here (and the back-and-forth bickering over whose bright idea it was to decide to go on holiday when the travelling industry is at its peak—it had been Mark’s, by the way, something about promotions and discount prices) and the even more absurd hike—or as the cheery staff liked to call it—expedition to your room.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to take a trip to the middle of nowhere, Mark.”

“Excuse me, this is not ‘the middle of nowhere’. According to the website, this is a ‘refined establishment which offers a fresh look into life alongside Mother Nature’,” defends Mark, letting the duffel bag stuffed with clothing he has slung over his shoulder slip to the ground with not an ounce of care.

“Well, that’s marketing for you.” You roll your eyes. “Just admit, you screwed up.”

Mark scoffs, unwilling to admit his defeat. “Not my fault that you’re a city girl.”

“This has nothing to do with me being a ‘city girl’. And you say that like you’re not a city boy.” Mark is tempted to say something petty in response but bites back his words. “And we have a bigger problem at hand right now, Mark.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a big problem…”

“Dude,” you deadpan. “It’s a big problem. There’s only one bed.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “We can come up with something… I, uh, I could sleep on the floor?”

“In this weather? You’ll be dead of hypothermia by morning. So, no.”

“Christ, alright then I guess we’ll just have to sleep on the same bed,” says Mark casually, falling onto the linen sheets. The bed creaks under his weight.

You shoot him an incredulous look. “Together? On the same bed?”

“Yeah, why not? We’ve done it before when we were kids.” Mark stares blankly up at the ceiling. “What’s so different about back then to now?”

You laugh wryly. “What’s different? We did it when we were kids, Mark. Kids.” Your face warms as you give Mark a once-over, taking it how much he’s grown into his good looks over the years. “I can list off plenty of things that have changed since we were literal children.”

Mark flips onto his side to face you head-on, an elbow propping him up. “Why? What’s wrong? You got a crush on me now?”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks pool with even more blistering heat. “Ugh, as if.”

“Damn, alright then, Cher Horowitz,” jeers Mark.

You stick your tongue out at Mark. “Whatever. Pass me a pillow. I’ll take the floor.”

Mark jolts upright like a meerkat on the lookout. “What? No, you take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“No, I’m good. You can have the bed to yourself. I don’t mind, honestly.” You jerk your thumb towards yourself, pushing your chest out proudly. “This ‘city girl’ can handle a little bit of cold.”

There’s the muffled rustling of sheets and the padding of feet against the floor before a pair of arms coil themselves around your waist from behind you, which by the way, doesn’t help your cheeks which only grow hotter by the second. You turn to face Mark who stares at you with nothing but genuine concern.

“No way. This ‘city girl’ is taking the bed.” His arms curl tighter around you, pulling you even closer to him. “Come on. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, Mark it’s—”

Your refusal is cut short when you feel your body grow weightless as your feet are lifted off of the ground.

“Oh my God! Holy shit, Mark.” Like a hapless ragdoll, you’re almost effortlessly thrown over Mark’s shoulder. You’d be impressed by how surprisingly strong he is given his skinny-looking exterior, but you find that this isn’t quite the right time to be complimenting his physical abilities just yet. Mark grunts when you writhe in his hold. “Put me down!”

“With pleasure.”

You yelp, startled when Mark nonchalantly drops you onto the bed, following suit not too long after, his face inches from yours. His arms cage in your face and you feel your head grow dizzy, intoxicated by his scent. Your heart lurches when the bed groans with all the brute force being heaved onto it.

Mark grins cheekily at you, an airy laugh leaving his lips. “Jesus, you should’ve seen your face! It was priceless.”

You stare up at him, subconsciously drinking in his beautiful features; from the hairs of his eyebrows to the flutter of his eyelashes to the rosy apples of his cheeks and right down to the dip of his cupid’s bow, you gawk at him in silence for a moment or two. You realise that it’s actually been a moment or two too long since you’ve said something by the way Mark’s smile falters and his eyes begin to roam your face with just as much intrigue.

You clear your throat, averting his keen gaze. “Yeah, alright. Haha, very funny, Mark.”

For once, Mark doesn’t have any witty comeback for you in response. In fact, the room is drop dead silent save for the mechanical whirring of the ceiling fan. Mark’s adam’s apple bobs up and down in apprehension as his eyes scan your face once more. You can’t look away from him. Your eyes are glued to his as your heart hammers in your chest, its vibrations ringing in your ears.

He makes a move to get off of you but freezes when he feels your hand wrap around his bicep, urging for him to stay as he is. Mark watches you with interest, waiting for something more, but all you can do is continue gaping at him. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, blinking up at him. You wait with baited breath as Mark licks his lips.

“What?” he whispers. “What is it you want from me?”

You inhale sharply.

Mark’s voice drops several octaves, turning almost gravelly, which is so out of character for him you nearly blanch. “Come on, I want to know. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You mumble your words incoherently, your mind too clouded over to formulate an actual sentence.

“Speak up, pretty girl. I can’t hear you.” Mark leans into your ear, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end.

“Want you to kiss me, Mark.”

“God, you’re so cute. Stop being so cute. Say it again.”

You huff, growing impatient. “Please, Mark. Just kiss me already.”

“Holy shit.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “That's really hot.”

Mark kisses you tenderly. His lips press softly against yours, testing the waters and gauging your reaction. He tastes of the spearmint gum you gave him on the ride here and he smells like the fabric softener you always use when you go over to his place.

His hand cups your cheek, and at your hum of appreciation, he finally decides to kiss you with a little more fervour.

You’re not sure how, but you soon find yourself in Mark’s lap as he rests his back against the headboard. You chase after his lips when he pulls away and he giggles, the sound so bizarre considering the atmosphere. You don’t stay displeased for too long though, as Mark begins kissing down your jaw, which tickles, if you're being frank.

Mark’s grip on you turns bruising when you scratch at his nape, savouring the way his breath hitches. As things progress, you can’t help but wonder how this exactly happened. Sure, you’ve had those moments where the idea of being more than friends with Mark excited you, but it’s not like you dwelled on the thought often. All throughout your friendship, you’d never had any moments like this, but you’re surprised you two hadn’t done this sooner, because God, this feels amazing. Thinking back on it, there have been moments where you’d caught Mark staring a little too intensely at you and vice-versa, but you brushed it off as a common occurrence, being friends with a guy. But, you suppose, given the fact that you and Mark are making out right now, probably means that those stares meant a little more than you had first surmised.

You pull away when Mark grips the back of your neck. He pauses, his gaze finding yours.

He swallows dryly. “You okay?"

You exhale shakily, a whirlwind of thoughts consuming you. “Wait- I- Can we,” you take a breath, “can we stop?”

Immediately, Mark’s expression melts into one of distress. “Yeah, of course we can.”

“Thanks.” You nod timidly, climbing off his lap and sinking into the spot beside him. You chew on the flesh of your inner cheek, guilt washing over you. “I- I’m sorry.”

Mark’s head swivels to face you. “What? No, don’t be sorry. It’s fine.” He fiddles with his fingers. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“What? No, no, you didn’t.” You laugh reassuringly. “I just- I don’t know- I just—”

“No, it’s okay. If you want to stop, I'll stop. No explanation required.” Mark smiles at you. “But… we’re still cool, right?”

“Of course we are, dude.”

Mark snickers. “Wow, I can’t believe you just called me dude after we made out. You’re really something else, huh?”

“Hey! You should take that as a compliment.” You shove him playfully. “I don’t call just anyone dude.”

“Well then, it’s an honour. Dude.”

Your conversation dwindles into silence. You feel anxiety begin to make its way up your spine as it latches onto you, sinking its gnarly teeth into your back. What now? Can you two really go back to being just friends if that’s what you ultimately decided? The faint spinning of the fan is the only thing that nulls your worries. Cautiously, you reach for Mark’s hand beside you and thankfully, he reciprocates the gesture. You sigh happily, finding solace in the warmth radiating from his fingertips.

“Can I—no I mean—can we cuddle?” You await a response from Mark, only to be greeted by nothing. “Uh, I’m sorry. That was dumb of me. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

You attempt to pry your fingers from Mark’s but he refuses to let you slip away. Instead, he brings your hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. “Hey, no. Let’s cuddle. I’m down for that. I need a hug, anyway.”

It’s astounding how easy it is to get into a spooning position with Mark. And as corny as it sounds, you feel like you fit perfectly in his arms, snug against his chest. You allow yourself to relax in his embrace until you feel something digging into your thigh.

“Is that—”

“Yeah, sorry,” says Mark sheepishly. He shifts in his position, but to no avail. He just hisses in discomfort. You smother a giggle. “I’m still, uh, a little… excited?”

“My bad.”

Mark pokes your waist, fishing that repressed giggle out of you. “Dumbass.”

And as you lay there with Mark, your laughter fading as the moon rises, you can’t deny the sparks of attraction that have ignited. You’re not quite sure exactly how you feel, but you think, whatever the outcome, the two of you will be alright.

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burning-clutch · 3 years

Text

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.” One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they’ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here” Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin. “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total: 2363

#phic phight 2021 #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #camp fun #Danny is done with ghosts #he just wants to sleep

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

Text

eros [pre-pragma]

eros - erotic love - a passionate and intense form of love that arouses romantic and sexual feelings

pairing: frankie ‘catfish’ morales x f!reader

warnings: light smut - reader’s first time

a/n: this turned out longer than i expected but i had fun writing it although it made me a little sad.

summary: frankie is leaving tomorrow so he spends his last night with you.

pragma masterlist

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO - ONE DAY BEFORE FRANKIE LEAVES

The past few weeks had been hectic for Frankie—from getting his pilot’s license to…her and all the complicated feelings that came from just seeing or being around her.

“I don’t understand why you just won’t tell her. Especially now,” Santiago said as he drove to the beach. They all had went hiking a few days ago and, as always, Frankie could focus on nothing but her. Anytime he tried talking to her though someone else came up and took her attention.

“Park here,” Frankie said trying his best to avoid the change in conversation. Santiago parked then just stared at him.

“Tell her something,” his friend pressed. “Obviously, you both feel it. She invited you upstairs, man.”

“And I turned her down.” Frankie got out of the car and grabbed the cooler from the trunk, mumbling to himself.

“I don’t understand you.” Santiago helped him carry the cooler onto the beach and towards the little fire that their friends had already started.

“About time!” one of them yelled and everyone else cheered. Frankie smiled and greeted everyone but was distracted with trying to find her. There was someone standing at the water's edge a little further down the beach and he knew it was her right away. He grabbed two beers and headed her way. She hadn’t heard him until he was only a few feet away.

“Francisco…hey,” she said. Right away he could hear that something was wrong.

“Hey. Bought you a beer.” He handed her the beer then stared out at the water.

“Thanks.” She only held the can without opening it.

“I…well, we leave tomorrow,” he said, turning to her again.

“I know.” She started walking away, heading away from the water to sit.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, following her.

“What do you think? I don’t want you to leave, Frankie. Either of you.” Finally, she opened the beer and took a few sips. “I don’t wanna say goodbye.” She looked at him as he sat beside her.

“Then don’t.”

They were quiet for some time. He finished his beer and she gave him the rest of hers to finish.

“Pilot, huh?”

“Yeah. Helicopters to be exact.” He smiled but it faded once he saw that she wasn’t.

“Why Frankie?” she asked sadly.

“I’m tired of being useless. I mean…look at me.”

“I look at you all the time,” she confessed. “You should know that by now.” She sighed then closed her eyes. “Will you miss me?”

“What kind of question is that? You know I will.”

“Are you running away from something?” she asked, and he bristled. “From me because you love me and don’t know how to say it?”

“God…” He shook his head and looked down at the sand. “I don’t wanna do this now,” he said.

“Then when, Frankie? What if there is no other time?”

“You saying I’m gonna die?” he snapped.

“No! You know what forget it.” She stood and started to walk away.

“You fuckin’ idiot,” he said to himself before standing and following her. He grabbed her arm gently and turned her around. “Look…I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

When he opened his mouth to answer, Santiago walked over. “You two leaving already?” He nudged Frankie.

“Stop, man.” Frankie spoke through his teeth as if that would make it harder for her to hear.

“I’m going home,” she said. “Gimme a hug, Santi.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “You better come back, soldier, or I’ll come looking for you myself.”

“Oh boy, we gotta come back now, don’t we Frankie?”

“Yup.” Frankie stared at her and she shrugged before walking to her car. “Dude, what the hell?”

“What?” Santiago threw his hands up.

“Why’d you say leaving like that? I don’t want her to think…the wrong thing.” He looked at her standing by her car.

“Is it the wrong thing though?”

“I don’t know. I just…”

“Just shut your mouth and go to her.” Santiago patted his shoulder and walked away. Frankie took a deep breath and made his way over to her.

“So,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

“So…” The silence stretched and the only sound they could hear was the cheering from their friends on the beach and the waves crashing. “Oh, I got you something.” She opened her car door and pulled out a cap. “Here.”

“You really went and found me another hat to wear?” he asked looking at it.

“I said I would. Put it on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the old hat off and threw it into his truck before putting the other hat on and holding his hands out. “Well?”

“Perfect. You gotta wear it forever now.”

“I will.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

“I’d rather have a hug.” She moved closer and he automatically put his arms around her. They stood wrapped in each other’s embrace for a long time. He heard her sniffle a few times, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Kiss me, Frankie.”

“You’re so bossy. I kinda like it.” He smiled before cupping her face and kissing her gently. It was going to end there, but she deepened the kiss. Her hands gripped his shirt, holding him where he was. The tears that stained her cheeks now stained his.

“We should go,” she whispered.

“Go where?” he asked stupidly. “Oh…oh!”

“If this is my last night with you, I want to make it special.” Tears still fell from her eyes.

“We don’t have to do that to make it special…” What the hell was he saying? He could kick himself right now.

“I want you to make love to me, Frankie,” she said confidently. There. It was out in the open. No hesitation on her part, but he was frozen in place.

“You…want…are you…what?” He shook his head then blinked at her.

“You heard me.”

“But we…I…”

“If you don’t want to, I understand.” She turned to her car.

“Wait!” he said a little too loudly. “Are you for real? Are you sure?”

“I am. I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“Like…how long?” To tell the truth, he had thought about it all the time, even when he was with someone else.

“I don’t know exactly how long, but…a long time. Long enough to know that I’m sure about this.” They stood in silence again while Frankie tried to think of reasons to say no. He didn’t want to say no but he also didn’t want to seem overly eager. Once your heart desired something it was hard to turn it down.

“My place or yours?” he asked, unable to look her directly in the eye.

“Yours.” Once again, no hesitation. Her mind was made up and once that happened, it was hard to change it. He really didn’t want to anyway.

“Okay…so…okay.” He stood there awkwardly as she got into her car and rolled down the window.

“I'll follow.”

“Right.” He got into his truck and his hands twisted at the steering wheel. Why the hell was he so nervous? He had done this plenty of times. But never with someone he felt so much, so deeply for. “Okay,” he breathed, starting the car.

The entire way there, he kept checking his rear-view mirror to make sure she still followed. He had to know this wasn’t a dream or some kind of joke she decided to play on him.

As he pulled into the driveway of his house, he felt a sudden overwhelming sense of desire and lust, but his heart knew it was more than that. She was more than that. He fucking loved her—there was no doubt about that.

He got out of the truck and watched her walk over to him, a smile playing at her mouth.

“You look even more nervous than I feel,” she joked, and he smiled. He loved how she could joke even when something so real was about to happen. She always had a way of relaxing him.

“Let’s go in.” He fumbled with the keys as he walked to the door and unlocked it, holding the door open for her. She immediately kicked her shoes off by the door out of habit. Her eyes fell to the pile of bags that sat off to the side and she looked away quickly, not wanting to linger on it.

“I don’t want you doing this just because I want to. Do you really want to do this with me?” she asked.

The truth shall set you free, he thought.

“I’ve wanted to do this for as long as I can remember,” he confessed. She wasn’t a priest and he wasn’t super religious, but he felt as though he could tell her every sin and not be judged for it. “I thought about it…a lot.”

“Me too.” She walked up and kissed him, making him stumble backwards a bit, knocking his new cap off as she carded her fingers through his hair. He could lie and say it was because she caught him off guard, but he knew it was because she made him weak in the knees.

“Bedroom?” he asked, and she nodded. He took her hand and led her to his room. If he had known this was going to happen, he would have cleaned up a bit, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention to any of that. Why was he? The woman of his dreams was getting undressed in his room and…

“Wait,” he stopped her just as she was pulling her shirt up.

“What?” She pulled the shirt down again.

“I always wanted to…I’d like to…may I undress you?” he finally got out.

“Oh…sure.” She couldn’t look at him at first but soon she felt drawn to him the same way he felt drawn to her. His eyes never left her face as he pulled her shirt up and off. He had to make sure she was okay. “You can…look at me.”

“I am.” He captured her lips in a dizzying kiss and she pulled at his shirt. They broke apart long enough for her to get it off him.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself or to him, he couldn’t be sure, but she climbed onto his bed and laid down. He found himself on top of her, kissing her some more and she pressed herself against him. The embarrassment of knowing that she could most likely feel him was making him move stiffly. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I just…” He looked down and she giggled.

“There’s no reason to be shy about that. I don’t have much experience, but I do know that’s supposed to happen."

He sat up on his knees. “What do you mean you don’t have a lot of experience?”

“I’m…I never…you’ll be my first,” she said.

“Shit,” he breathed. Something stirred within him, but something also made him stop. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t want this to happen with anyone else. It’s okay.” Funny that she was the one reassuring him when he was the one who had been through it already. “I know you’ll probably make fun of me later with Santiago.”

“I’d never make fun of you especially for that but…are you sure? One hundred and fifty percent positive?” He looked at her as she sat up on her elbows.

“One hundred and fifty percent, sir.”

He laid down beside her and touched her bare skin, his fingers skimming across her stomach. She trembled and moved closer to him as he slid his hand to the waistband of her jeans and unbuttoned them. He was careful when he moved away to slide them off her, leaving her lying there in nothing but her underwear. He had fantasized about how she would look with nothing on more times than he cared to admit, but this…she was spectacular, and she wasn’t even fully naked yet.

“Your turn.” She sat up and unbutton his jeans. He looked up at the ceiling as she bent to pull them down his legs. Now they both stood there in nearly nothing.

“I’ll um…” She reached behind her back.

“I’ll do it,” he offered. She nodded and turned her back to him. He made quick work of the bra, kissing along her back and shoulders as the straps slid down and the bra finally fell away. When she turned to face him again, he kept his eyes on her face respectfully.

“Go on, Francisco.”

He swallowed hard, finally allowing his eyes to trail over her. He let out a shaky breath followed by a “wow" and she laughed.

“Why thank you.” She looked down at her panties and Frankie immediately got down on his knees. He looked up at her as he hooked his fingers over the waistband of her panties. With a nod from her, he was slowly pulling them down and helping her step out of them. He kissed her stomach, her thighs, and her mound making her gasp.

“Too much?” he asked, moving away quickly.

“No. It was…nice.” She pulled at his arms to make him stand. Following what he had just done, she got on her knees and pulled his underwear down.

“God help me,” he said quietly, quickly pulling her to her feet. If she kissed anywhere around there this whole thing would be over before it started. Instead, he kissed her lips and laid her down carefully, slotting himself between her legs. “I have to, well, get you ready,” he told her.

“Okay. I trust you.” The words were so sincere, so real. She really did trust him and that meant more to him than anything ever will.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Okay. Well.” He kissed her again before moving lower, kissing her neck, licking across a particularly sensitive part that made her moan quietly. Everything about her was beautiful, even the sounds she made.

When he got to her breasts, he looked at her nervously before swirling his tongue around her nipple. Her hand flew to her mouth as she whimpered loudly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pulled her hand away from her mouth and held it. “It’s okay.” He moved to the other nipple and this time she moaned without any hesitation. The hand he wasn’t holding found its way into his hair as he kissed down her stomach. Her breathing was uneven, and he looked up to make sure she was okay.

“I’m okay, Frankie. Please.”

He nodded, carefully pushing her legs up and open around him as he kissed lower. She looked away shyly, turning her head to look over at the wall, but he squeezed the hand he was holding.

“Look at me, baby.” When she turned back to him, he slowly dragged his tongue along her, tasting her. A weird sense of pride flowed through him knowing that he was the first to get to do this.

“Oh…oh my god,” she whined.

“You okay?” he asked before kissing her thigh.

“Mmhm.” She bit her lip as she prepared for whatever he did next. He spread her open with his fingers and licked her again, latching onto the bundle of nerves this time. “Frankie, I…I…” He didn’t stop, his tongue and lips sending her into a pleasurable frenzy. She cried out and tried to squirm away from his mouth, but he held her there, drinking her down, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

“Damn,” he whispered, lifting his head. He wiped his chin then crawled up to kiss her. She didn’t seem to mind that, in fact, she seemed eager to kiss him while he tasted like her. “You just…”

“I know what an orgasm is,” she told him with a smile.

“I should, well…” He slid his hand between her spread legs and rubbed her. She was still sensitive from her orgasm and he was able to get one finger in. She gasped and grabbed his wrist. “It’s okay. Look at me.” When her eyes were on him, he pressed his forehead to hers and slowly added another finger. He’s had sex before, but he can’t recall having such an intimate moment with someone. They looked at each other as he touched her and pulled all sorts of sounds from her. He eventually pulled his fingers from her and she giggled, looking away as he brought them to his mouth.

“Frankie…”

“Sorry. You’re just…really good.” He chuckled as she hid her face against his chest.

“Do you have protection?” she asked, and he nodded, sitting up to reach into his bedside table. “Can I put it on?”

“If you want.” He handed her the condom almost immediately regretting letting her touch him there. Her hands were gentle as she wrapped them around him and stroked. She brushed her thumb along the tip, and he grunted, his hips moving with her hands of their own accord. He wanted to whine we she took her hands away to carefully roll on the condom.

As she laid back down and he moved between her legs, she exhaled deeply. “Just keep looking at me, okay? And you tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“Okay.”

He lowered himself over her, reaching between their bodies with one hand to carefully line himself up. “You ready?”

“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around him just as he slid into her. She whimpered and he stopped moving. “Keep…keep going.”

“Eyes, baby.” He wouldn’t continue until she was looking at him again. “I’m here. It’s me.” Just a little further and he was completely inside her, cursing under his breath at the feeling of her. “Still okay?”

“Yeah. Please move.” Her hips squirmed beneath him. “I want to feel…” He kissed her before she could finish, sliding out of her slowly only to push into her again. “Yes.”

“This feels better than I ever imagined.” He moved slightly faster, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. Her eyes closed in pleasure as her hands found their way into his hair, tangling there and keeping his forehead against hers as he made love to her.

“You feel amazing, Frankie,” she moaned and that was nearly his undoing. He kept up the pace since she seemed to be enjoying it just like that but then he noticed the tears and nearly rolled off her. “No. It’s okay. I’m okay,” she cried.

“What is it?” He slowed down but didn’t stop.

“This is just perfect in every way,” she sniffled. “And I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Now he felt tears stinging his eyes. “I know. I’m gonna miss you too.” He moved faster now, his heart and soul breaking but also whole as he made her his. Their bond was something indescribable and not just because of the sex. There was so much more, something that would never go away no matter how far apart they were.

“I…” she started but only smiled then kissed him.

“I know,” he said. “Me too.” He moved his hand between their bodies and touched her. He was close and wanted her to finish first. It only took a few touches for her to come undone beneath him and that was enough to have him groaning her name and finishing with a few thrusts that were slightly harder than the rest. He thought that he should roll off her, but she anchored him there with her arms and legs…and lips. She just couldn’t stop kissing him, her tears wetting his face.

“You’ll always be my Frankie, you know?”

“I hope so.” He rolled off her and she quickly sat up and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. While she was gone, he took care of things on his end. He wondered if he should put something back on but before he could decide, she came back.

“All yours,” she said, climbing into bed and hiding under the covers.

“Be right back.” In the bathroom, he washes himself off then looks in the mirror. He had never felt quite so fulfilled before but…he was about to leave it all behind. The woman lying in his bed right now had given herself to him, heart, body, and soul, and he was leaving. What the hell was he giving her in return? Sleepless nights full of worrying about him? Sadness? Loneliness? She held his heart in her hands and he couldn’t even be here for her.

He walked back into the bedroom and climbed into bed beside her. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” she looked at him, puzzled.

“That I’m leaving like this. We did this and…I’m just leaving. I’m no better than all the other creeps out there.”

“Francisco Morales, I knew what was coming and I gave myself to you knowing that. I don’t regret a moment. Do you?”

“Of course not, but…,” He turned to her. “If you wanna see someone else while I’m gone, you can.”

“What?”

“I have no right to keep you hanging on waiting for me. We probably won’t see each other a lot.”

“I don’t care. There will be no one else, Frankie. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.” She snuggled up against him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Hold me, please.” Her voice cracked and she cried against his chest. “You better come back; you hear me? I would wait forever and a day for you but please don’t make me.”

He lifted her head, wiping her tears away. “I'll come back. I promise.”

“And you’ll stay?” she cried, wiping the single tear that fell from his eye.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” he said before kissing her.

Tomorrow would come and he would be gone, but they had right now, and he would make the most of it.

Tags: @cable-kenobi @saltywintersoldat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pedrosdoll @psychobillybunny @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @keeper0fthestars @mrsparknuts @thinemineours @huliabitch @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @lavenderl3mons @mrscrain-x7 @fioccodineveautunnale @gooddaykate @themilkface @tiffdawg @ms-dont-care @mus1caln0tes @awesomefandomsunited @seawhisperer @virtualxjournality @badassbaker @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lokiaddicted @forever-rogue @sloantravels @javier-djarin @jawabear @longitud-de-onda

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #headcanon

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gemstoneconstellations · 4 years

Text

I’m Sorry I’m Nervous

Summary: First date jitters happen to everyone, even Red Riot.

Wordcount: 2800

A/N: This is a direct continuation of Hero By Another Name

“Okay, so I’ll…um, see you Friday,” Kirishima nervously chuckled in front of you, holding your hands as he stood in your doorway.

You smile up at him. “Promise?”

He bent down and pressed his lips to yours. “I promise.” One more kiss turned into two, which turned into him with his arms tightly around your waist, your body pressed against the doorframe as he practically devoured you. Finally, the two of you said your goodbyes, a little out of breath and flushed down to your necks.

“We’re dating. We got a date on Friday,” Kirishima mumbled to himself as he got in the elevator, a dopey smile on his face. He threw a fist in the air, proud that he’d finally come out and said it. He needs to call Bakugo for saving his ass yet again. Who knew Bakugo was such a great wingman? Finally, Kirishima had made you his girl…his girlfriend. He hasn't felt like this in such a long time. Since, like, high school. His eyes went wide. He hasn't dated since high school! “Oh shit, we’re dating. I got a date this Friday.”

In a panic, he called the only Bakusquad member that knew the meaning of the word chill. “Hey dude, what’s up?” Sero answered lazily.

“Code Shitting Myself! I have a date on Friday!” Kirishima practically screamed into the phone as he rushed out of the elevator into the lobby, making a small woman who was entering at the same time jump back.

Kirishima waved apologetically as he scurried away to possibly go bury himself somewhere.

“Uh, congrats? Why are you panicking?”

“I don't know what I'm doing! What do people do for dates now?” He gripped at his hair, for all he knew, Netflix and Chill was the new norm!

“Bro,” Sero snorted at Kirishima’s distress; the red-head was overthinking the entire situation and Sero found it refreshingly funny.

“I haven't been on a date since high school, I don't know what a mature adult does for a first date. I’m not mature! I still watch cartoons in the morning on my days off!” That threw Sero over the edge; he bursted out into a fit of laughter, wheezing and coughing as he tried to compose himself.

After a solid five minutes, he was able to speak again. “Okay, relax dude. I’ll call the squad and we’ll brainstorm over some beer while Bakugo lectures us on the amount of sugar and calories we are putting in our bodies. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, yeah, that works.”

“You okay now?”

“Yeah….I have a girlfriend,” Kirishima let out a bashful giggle, looking back up to your apartment complex.

“Good for you, bro. I’ll see you later.”

“I fucking told you extras. Pay up, assholes.”

The whole table groaned as everyone started slamming their money down on the table, Bakugo cackling unapologetically as he swept the pot of money over to him. “The hell? Guys?” Kirishima looked at them all, appalled.

“We started making bets after you randomly became a junior firefighter,” Ashido frowned as she handed her money over to Bakugo, who snatched it from her and started counting it.

Kirishima pouted; he didn't think it was that obvious. Ashido reached over, reading his mind and patting his arm. “Honey, we all know how considerate you are of other people but seriously? Yeah, we all saw it coming.”

Kaminari cut in, holding up a folded up piece of paper. “Alright, so I pulled up a list on the internet—”

The whole table groaned, but Kaminari cleared his throat and spoke over their complaints. “I compiled a list of manly first dates and this is what I got.”

Sero swiped the paper from the electric blonde and glanced over it. “Museum? Does she like art?”

“Not all museums are just art. There is this really cool toy museum...” Kaminari took the paper back, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles.

Ashido rolled her eyes. “Is she even into video games?”

The red-head only shrugged as he took a sip of beer. Honestly, he couldn’t really think of anything that you were interested in outside of work. “I don't know? She’s kind of a workaholic. Only thing she collects is…”

“She's a creepy mega-fan of his and covers her entire apartment in Red Riot merch,” Bakugo chimed in nonchalantly, still counting his money. All eyes were now on Kirishima, eyebrows raised.

“Moving on!” Kirishima launched his body across the table to grab the list, trying to change the subject. “A picnic, that sounds nice.”

Sero shook his head. “Uh, you might have to go where there are no people. Both of you are still pretty popular and with that gossip rag around, you might attract a crowd.” The note was passed to Ashido; it was probably best in her hands since she’s the only girl in this group.

Ashido took out a pen and started crossing things off. “So anything with crowds is probably out. That means no to sports games and amusement parks…” Kaminari started to pout as he watched so many of his ideas get crossed out.

“Cross off crappy pottery painting. That shit is for some old married couple, or ones with little kids.” Bakugo finally joined the conversation only to scoff at Kaminari. Seriously, pottery? Ashido nodded in agreement at what the ash blonde said, tapping her nose as she scribbled that out.

Kaminari threw his arms in the air. “Let’s just cross off all my ideas!”

“Rock-climbing would be cool. She had fun doing that while we were camping. Maybe we could go on a hike.” Kirishima tried to be the positive one of the group. That camping trip had really helped change your relationship; something outdoorsy might be good.

Sadly, Ashido waved him off and started giving her “girl advice”, which really sounded more like a lecture. “No. You need to do something together that you haven't done. The first date can set the tone for the entire relationship. Plus, rock-climbing is more of a third date activity. First dates are when you need to have lots of face-to-face conversations. You are getting to know each other in a romantic sense; rock climbing isn't going to give you a lot of opportunities to do that. Also, no sex or too much kissing. Focus on talking to her as a person so she doesnt think you’re only after her body.” Kirishima’s face instantly flared up at being called out like that. Damn, Ashido can pick up on the slightest hint of anything that is remotely romantic. If only she had put that much effort into her studies when they were in school.

“Fine! All I got is one thing left. Tell me how that can go wrong so I can throw this stupid list away.” Kaminari was completely fed up, taking the list back and writing one more thing on it before thrusting it back into the center of the table. He crossed his arms as he slouched in his chair.

Ashido looked up at Bakugo and Sero, who both nodded with a look of surprise. “Actually….”

“That’s not a bad idea. Good job, Dunce Face.” Bakugo waved over a waitress to order some wings for Kaminari as a reward for using so much brain power.

“Wait, what? You guys like one of my ideas? Yes! And you guys doubted me. Just call me the love doctor from now on.” Kaminari leaned back in his chair, rubbing a finger under his nose as he bragged smuggly. Ashido reached over and pressed a finger to his forehead, causing him to fall back. “Fuck!”

“Miniature golf?” you questioned as the two of you walked up to the indoor miniature golf course. It was perfect. It was less in the open, they controlled the amount of people on the course, and with a little extra cash, the attendant held back on letting in more people so the two of you could have plenty of time alone together.

Kirishima cleared his throat nervously. “You don’t like it?”

You linked your fingers through his, shaking your head. “No, that’s not it. I just haven't done it in years.” His heart nearly launched into his throat. How do you do that so easily?

“Oh, I guess that means I'm a shoe-in to win, then?” Keeping his cool, he teased you as he pulled you into the building.

That competitive nature of yours came in full-throttle, jumping at the bait. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

Kirishima looked down at you, leaning in with a smirk on his face. “Yup. The winner decides where we go for dinner.”

You leaned in closer, whispering, “You’re on.” Oh, he wants to kiss you so bad right now.

After paying admission and slipping the teen a few more bills to keep the crowd away from the two of you, you were picking out what color club you wanted to use. Of course, Kirishima chose red. He was leaning back, watching you as you narrowed in on a neon green club. You bent down to see if it was a comfortable height for you and that's when he noticed the curve of your ass in those jeans. He felt himself totally zone out, leaning more heavily on his club when he stumbled.

You looked back at him as he straightened up. “You okay?”

“Yu-Yup! Go ahead to the first hole to save our spot. I changed my mind about what color to use.” He hid his now bent club behind his back, praying you wouldn’t notice or argue with him.

Lucky him, you nodded in agreement. “Oh, okay.”

Kirishima sighed in relief once you were out of view. He held up the bent club; the poor thing didn't have a chance under his weight. He held it up to the attendant, who saw the whole thing transpire. “I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for the damage.” He can already hear Mina telling him off. I told you not to think about sex or kissing too much! Focus on getting to know her! Easier said than done...

Now with a new club that was a darker shade of red in his hand, he met you at hole one. You were tossing one of your golf balls in the air as you waited. “Ready?” Your smile helped him forget the incident; he silently promised himself that he wouldn't embarrass himself anymore on this date so that you wouldn't regret going out with him.

Around the third hole, you were starting to giggle as he was about to take his shot. “What?”

“Just watching you play. Compared to you, everything on the course looks child-sized.” True, he is pretty bulky and it was even more apparent next to a mini-Eiffel Tower. He pulled back the club to take a swing. “You’re so big.”

His face instantly turned red and he lost his grip; his second golf club was sent spinning four courses away. You held both hands over your mouth, trying to contain your laughter. He glared at your shaking back. This was your fault this time. He sighed, his head down dejectedly as he started walking. “I’ll be right back.”

Club retrieved, you continued to play. He was extra cautious with the club, making sure to keep a firm grip on it and his sanity. Why is he so nervous? This shouldn't be that big of a deal; the two of you had hung out before. You skipped beside him, spinning your club in your hand. “I’m winning by four strokes.”

Kirishima looked over the course; it was set up so if he hit a corner just right, he could get it in one stroke. After you tried but didn’t manage to get very close to the hole, he felt like he had this in the bag. Time to show off. “I’ll get a hole in one on this, just you watch. This is basic geometry. Bakugo tutored me for hours til I was a master of it.”

You giggled, stepping to the side as he set his ball up. He hit the ball…but he may have hit a little too hard. Instead of just bouncing off the wall and going back towards the hole, it went into the air and straight for the small Great Wall of China. He rushed over to see the damage he’d caused now. “It’s stuck in the wall….I must have hit it too hard.” The ball was lodged inside the plaster and everytime Kirishima tried to get it out, more cracks formed. “I can’t get it out without wrecking it any more….”

“Pfft.” He looked back to glare at you. “This counts as a stroke.” Your competitive streak was showing and it was not playing nice.

Before he could protest, you went to your ball and tapped it gently. You smirked at him triumphantly as it came within an inch of the hole. “Well look at that, I’m going to get a birdie.”

“So much for looking cool….” Kirishima sighed to himself for like the millionth time. You were kicking his butt at this while he was stumbling all over the place. What the hell? He’d played this before and he was never this bad.

“Last one, the windmill.” The final boss of miniature golf stood on top of a small hill, paper mache blades spinning slowly. Kirishima was taller than it but it felt like it was towering over him. He swallowed.

“I’ll get this one no problem.” Kirishima pumped himself up, stepping up first. He watched the blades swinging around, waiting with the club in the air for the perfect moment. Quickly, he swung at the ball and it zipped through the air. It looked like it was going to make it. Finally!

RIIPP SHWOOP

“It went through the blade!” You dropped your club and ball to laugh as Kirishima rushed over in horror.

He scrambled over to look at the damage and find the ball but he noticed that it wasn't there. He looked behind the mill to see his ball coming out the back, rolling down the ramp all the way into the hole. He fist pumped the air, forgetting all about the other hole he’d caused. “Ha! See? Hole-in-one!” He pointed towards the hole and then leaned against the windmill, only for it to start tilting. “Oh, shit!” He caught it quickly and balanced it back out. Well, at least you were smiling as you crumpled to the ground laughing.

“That was fun, especially since I won by 10 strokes.” You stretch your arms up, taking in the fresh air after such a fun game. You turn to the side, expecting Kirishima to be standing beside you, only to see the street. He was behind you, dragging his feet out of the miniature golf facility, head held low. “Kirishima?”

“I’m sorry about all that back there. I was just so nervous that I kept messing things up and….causing destruction of property. Kind of messed up our first date, huh?” He walked up to you, eyes still downcast as he apologized for one of the best dates you’d ever had.

You reached out to him, gently taking hold of his hand. “Why were you so nervous? It’s not like we haven’t hung out like this before. If anyone should be nervous, it’s me. You already know all my dirty secrets in my apartment.” Maybe you should mention that you’d had Bakugo give you another “pep’” talk about how you were being an idiot for panicking slightly before the date.

Kirishima sighed, taking both your hands in his and rubbing his thumbs across your fingers. “It’s our first date, pretty much the deciding factor of whether you want to stay with me. I didn't want you to think I was a waste of your time…” You tried not to laugh. How could he think spending any time with him could be a waste?

“It’s not over yet, right?” You let go of one of his hands, pulling him by the other. “The winner gets to pick dinner. I vote ordering take out and watching a movie at my place.”

He looked at you with a dazed look, completely confused as he let you pull him down the street towards home. You smile at him reassuringly. “For what it’s worth, I had fun. I always have fun with you.”

Kirishima’s face instantly lit up, his mood seeming to perk up. “Really? You dont regret it?”

You move your hand in his, making your fingers weave together. “I don't think I could ever regret being with you.” Honestly, you’ve never felt this happy before, and it’s all thanks to the red-head walking beside you.

He tightened his grip and smiled down at you sweetly, making you feel all gooey inside. “Same.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #hero by another name

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chasingfigments · 4 years

Text

(Inspired by the prompt “Empty spools of thread” given to me by twitter user SeptimusMew:)

Noctis isn’t great at packing his own lunch, and his dad never has, but at least his dad is good about leaving him money. When it’s time for the lunch period, most of the kids in his class start pulling out their food, so Noctis heads out of the classroom and downstairs. There’s a little snack shop down on the first floor, near the shoe lockers, that’s staffed by the student council, but there’s a crowd and Noctis has had enough of people staring at him today.

This school isn’t as strict as his old one was; there aren’t any teachers at the front gates to keep students from leaving campus. He’s not the only high school student to head out, and he trails after uniformed students in twos or threes to the town’s only convenience store a couple blocks away in what passes for downtown.

The electronic doors slide open, and with them comes a welcome blast of air conditioning. Even in the middle of nowhere, convenience stores are all set up basically the same way, so it doesn't take Noctis long to find a pair of hard-boiled eggs, some plastic-wrapped onigiri, and a bottle of soda. The cashier barely looks at him, which is fine--Noctis would rather be just another anonymous high school student--and packs everything neatly into a plastic bag for him. Then Noctis is outside again and heads back to school.

The grounds are generous for a school this small; Noctis finds himself an empty section of bleachers near the track area and takes a seat. He fishes his cell phone from his pocket and turns it on--this the school is strict about, but there aren’t any teachers around to confiscate it--but there aren’t any messages, not even a how’s-your-first-day-going text from his dad. Nothing from his old friends, either, and he sighs even if he knows it’s stupid to pick at that old wound. He shuts his phone off and puts it away.

Noctis makes short work of the eggs and the onigiri. He is just finishing up his soda and wondering where he’s supposed to take his trash when someone turns the corner.

It’s that blond kid from his class. Noctis did skim over the school dress code, so the guy’s hair must be natural, because there’s no way he’d get away with it otherwise. What surprises Noctis, though, is that the guy actually perks up and waves at him--and then alters course straight for him.

“Hey,” he says when he’s close enough. He doesn’t try to climb up the bleachers to get closer, but it still makes Noctis feel a bit cornered. “You booked it out of class earlier, I didn’t have a chance to catch up.”

Noctis frowns. “You need something?”

“Huh? No.” The guy rocks back on his heels, like he’s surprised by Noct’s question. “I just wanted to say hi. I’m--well, I’m the one who had to do the whole new-guy introduction last year. My name’s Prompto.”

Noctis can’t help but be a little curious. From what he read online before moving, this town has slowly been dying for decades, with more people moving out than moving in. It’s barely got two thousand people now, and even with both the junior and senior high in the same building, there’s still plenty of space. “Why’d your family move out here?”

“My parents work for the Ministry of Agriculture,” he says. Prompto shrugs, a slight lift and fall of his shoulders. “Someone had to fill the post, and they wanted a change of scenery. You?”

“My grandfather died a couple years ago,” Noctis says flatly. “And dad got let go when his company restructured, so he’s finally getting around to taking care of the estate.”

Prompto blinks once, twice. “Sorry for your loss.”

“Gotta actually know someone for it to be a loss,” is all Noctis says, because he doesn’t even know how to explain to someone else how his dad collapses in on himself a little more every passing day for finally having to cave and accept the house and the money that he swore he’d never return to or touch. He finishes off his soda and waves the empty bottle at Prompto. “Where do I dump my trash?”

It’s supposed to be the end to the conversation, but Prompto doesn’t get the message. Or if he does, he ignores it. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

There aren’t many options left, and Noctis doesn’t want to be an entire asshole even though his mood has been shitty ever since they started packing up their old apartment, so he gets off the bleachers and falls into step with Prompto. “So, what is there even to do in this town?”

“Well, that depends,” Prompto says. He gestures toward the western sky and the forest-covered mountains that dominate a good section of it. “How much do you like nature?”

“I’d like it a hell of a lot better if it didn’t come with bugs.”

It wasn’t meant as a joke, but Prompto actually laughs, and something in Noct’s chest catches and pulls. “The last time I let Gladio take me hiking, a huge ass spider dropped right out of the trees and into my face.”

Noctis can feel a smile threatening to form at the corner of his mouth. “Well, cross hiking off the list.”

“Uh, there’s--a bar nearby, or kind of. They don’t start serving alcohol until six, so we can be in there until then. They’ve got some pool tables and arcade games and even a room for karaoke if you’re into that, and it’s probably the closest we’ve got to some place to hang out that’s not the park down by the river.”

“Not the biggest karaoke fan. But arcade games are cool.”

Prompto perks up at that. “Yeah? You ever play Justice Monsters?”

“I haven’t, sorry,” Noctis says as they round the corner of the building and find the row of trash cans.

“I could show you, if you want,” Prompto says, and it’s just the right amount of casual for Noctis to realize that Prompto really wants the answer to be yes.

“I can’t tonight, I gotta help my dad finish unpacking. But--how about this weekend?”

“You mean it?”

Prompto’s grinning, and Noctis finally allows himself a smile back. “Yeah, I do. What’s—”

But the rest of the question gets lodged in his throat because a handful of thin, black threads creep out from under the collar of Prompto’s uniform and slowly wrap their way around his throat.

“Noctis?” Prompto asks, and just like all the others Noctis has ever seen, he is entirely oblivious to what has caught Noct’s eye.

He’s never--he’s never seen them move before. Whenever he’s seen someone who is close to death, the threads are thick and binding, wrapped heavily around the soon-to-be-deceased, the ends trailing behind like smoke. A few times, he saw the ends wrapped around another person’s hands like a leash and knew that this was the person who would be responsible.

He’s never seen the threads just--appear. But they’re here now, when they weren’t just a few moments ago, delicate like a fine silver necklace around Prompto’s throat.

“Dude, are you okay?” Prompto reaches out and grabs him by the shoulders.

“Yeah,” Noctis tries, and then one of the threads drifts down and snakes its way around his wrist.

#noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #alternate universe #final fantasy xv #ffxv fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

7 with indruck?

7: I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story”. I went SFW

“Dude! You can’t go in there! Hey, wait, dude, hold on!”

Jake’s voice jars Indrid from staring miserably at his computer screen. But it does nothing to prepare him for the stack of papers that slams into his desk.

“Where the fuck do you get off man?”

Staring him down is a man with dark hair, mis-matched eyes, a scar down his right cheek, and an extremely pissed-off expression. Indrid recognizes him instantly, both from T.V and his last assignment.

“Mr. Newton?”

“Yeah, that’s me, the guy you been draggin through the goddam mud!”

“I-”

“Where are you even gettin this stuff? Substance abuse, bad break-ups, the split between me and my team, who the fuck told you that bullshit?”

“I am not going to reveal my sources.”

“Oh now you get some fuckin ethics?”

“I was just reporting what people told me. I was assigned to round up the press around you now that you’re relaunching your show, and this is what I got. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

“Upsets me?” Mr. Newton plants his hands on the desk, leaning into Indrid’s space, “buddy, I ain’t even on the same planet as upset right now. I’m actually feelin pretty damn calm, because I know who the fuck is to blame.”

“It’s not my fault” Inrid snaps back, “I got assigned it at random, so if you have issues kindly take them up with Woodbridge.”

“Sir, if you insist on raising a fuss in my office-”

“This him?” Mr. Newton points to Woodbridge as the editor appears from his office.

“Yes.” Indrid glares at Woodbridge through his glasses; he told him these kind of stories would lead to trouble, and it wasn’t even his usual beat.

He braces for Mr. Newton continuing to escalate, but instead the stocky man takes a deep breath , holding his hands up apologetically.

“Look, I’m real sorry, shouldn’t have come in guns blazin like that, and I know you fellas gotta make a livin same as anyone but this kind of stuff-” he whacks the papers into Indrid’s lap, “y’all gotta remember there’s a human on the other end of it.”

“That’s a very fair point, Mr. Newton-” Woodbridge gestures towards the door.

“A human with a damn good lawyer.”

“Mr.Newton, free speech”

“Protects you from the government, not from the Duck. I don’t mind the break-up nonsense, that happened plenty during the first show. Leo, Minerva, and I have been through every relationship configuration known to man, accordin to papers like yours. But the shit about me drinkin? That could damage my career. So could the reasons your ‘sources’ gave for why the show ended. You tellin me you’d hire a fella who apparently yelled at his co-hosts day in and day out and ‘couldn't hack’ bein’ outdoors?” This last question he directs at Indrid, who shakes his head.

“Mr. Newton, retracting the story would look very bad for us. However, we’d be more than willing to publish your side of the story.”

“Close, but my word ain’t enough to counter those claims about me bein’ incompetent. I’m goin’ on a month and a half tour to location scout and shoot the first two episodes. I want one of your writers to come with. Specifically, I want him.” He points to Indrid.

“Wait, why me? I’m not a travel writer, and I have a photography assignment due next week.”

“Because you’re the one who caused this mess, slim.”

Indrid starts to protest when Woodbridge turns to with a smirk.

“Start transferring your assignments, Indrid; you’re going on a roadtrip.”

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

Indrid grumbles to himself as he waits on the curb with his bag. Duck, as Mr. Newton has said to call him, told him to pack only one bag, and to bring his camera (“saw your shots when I was researchin you; you might like shootin out on the road”).

A motorcycle pulls up to the curb as he checks the time on this phone. He doesn’t give the vehicle a second look until the rider speaks to him.

“Glad you’re on time.” The helmet comes off, revealing Duck looking much calmer than the last time he saw him, “let’s get your gear on the bike and get goin’.”

Indrid stares at him in disbelief, “were you at any point going to warm me that I’d be doing this whole trip on a death machine?”

“Didn’t think I had to. Figured you knew this was how I traveled now, given all your, uh, thorough research.” Duck fixes him with a shit-eating grin as he straps his bag onto the bike, then hands him a helmet.

Indrid groans, jams the helmet on and awkwardly climbs onto the back of the bike.

“Gonna have to hang onto me, slim.” Duck’s voice crackles through his helmet, “don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bite you, even if I still kinda feel like it.”

“How encouraging.” He loops his arms around the T.V star, winces as the bike pulls out into traffic. There’s a laugh as he tightens his grip in fear, Duck’s body suddenly the only safe thing in the world.

They zoom onto the freeway, and promptly come to a dead stop in traffic.

“Truly invigorating.” Indrid mutters.

“Ain’t gonna be much fun until we’re outta the city. And I ain’t about to go zippin’ between lanes to cut ahead; great way to get us both killed.”

As they inch along, Indrid starting to sweat from the heat of the pavement, Duck asks, “did you ever watch the show?”

“Is there anyone who didn’t? Wild World was on every day. I’m fairly certain it’s still all Animal Planet plays some days.”

“Yeah but, uh, did you actually watch it on purpose?”

“I did, now and then. I found Minerva’s tendency to try more extreme forms of exploration stressful, but I generally enjoyed what I saw. I’m not surprised you’re the one who picked the show back up; you were always oddly compelling on camera, and it was clear it was a passion project for you.”

“Yeah, it really was. Is. Feels weird to be doin’ it without them. Can’t blame ‘em for havin’ their own lives and goals though. Leo was ready to retire after the Gila Monster incident, and Minerva’s wanted to run an adventure bootcamp for years.”

“You know, if you hurry and explain everything in the next ten minutes, you can just pull off there and drop me at the edge of town.”

A chuckle, “Nice try, Indrid. You ain’t gettin outta roughin’ it that easy.”

“It was worth a try. Alaska was the last episode run, right?”

Duck’s posture shifts so subtly that, were he not holding him, Indrid wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Yeah. Yeah it was. Nothin’ like gettin attacked by a wolf and takin a bunch of rabies shots to the gut to put you off filmin’.”

“It really was a wolf? Everything I read said-”

“I’d misidentified what attacked us? Yeah, I know. American wolves never really go after humans, that’s why we were so fuckin’ screwed when this one did. Poor fella. He was sick. We coulda proved what happened except I told Leo to destroy the footage and we had a knock down, drag out fight over it until he did.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want my pain, Minerva’s pain, and the wolf’s pain to become some goddamn viral sensation!” Duck snaps.

Indrid decides to drop it, feels Duck sag in the drivers seat. In spite of dragging him out into the wilderness, Indrid doesn’t bear Duck any bad feeling. And he doesn’t like seeing him sad.

“I, ah, I always liked the episodes where you showcased moths and butterflies. Moths are my favorite creatures, they’re so varied but so overlooked.”

Nothing but the traffic around them, then, “I once saw a Luna Moth bigger’n my hand. Didn’t get it on camera but damn was it a stunner.”

“Where did you see it?”

“Now there’s a story…”

By the time Duck finishes the cars are finally moving, and Duck changes them into the lane leading towards the exit for a single lane, county highway.

“Fuckin’ finally. Alright Indrid, hold tight.”

What follows is simultaneously the most thrilling and most terrifying four hours of Indrid’s life as Duck speeds down the road, win whipping around them and the world going by in a blur that’s much more alarming when not behind metal and glass. They find a rest stop, where Indrid shotguns an entire bag of skittles under Duck’s amused gaze, and get back on the road for an only slightly less terrifying four hours more.

They stop for the night at a KOA (“you’re lucky, slim, I got us a cabin to ease you into things”). Whereupon Indrid is treated to the sight of Duck stripping off his road gear, back muscular and sporting several scars.

“How are you likin’ life on the road?” Duck asks, not turning but starting to undo his pants. Indrid doesn’t look away until he’s down to his boxers.

“You know, it’s growing on me.”

They make their first shooting destination the next afternoon, setting up camp in a mostly-empty campground before hiking off into the woods. Duck shoots B-roll while Indrid photographs, the pair working in near total silence before meeting up with their contact near a jumble of boulders.

“Nice to see you again, Thacker.” Duck shakes the man’s hand, and gets a pat on the back.

“Good to you too, sport. Who’s the new fella?”

“My biographer.” Duck deadpans.

Duck spends the rest of the day filming as Thacker helps him find nest and burrows and creatures to shoot and narrate over. In spite of the show being done on a single camera, Duck is compelling as always when he talks about the natural world.

Indrid just wishes he’d sprung for better hiking boots.

“Ooof.” He mutters, face down on his sleeping bag.

“Not surprised, we did about ten miles all told today.”

“I repeat. Oof.”

A kind, sympathetic laugh, “C’mon, you’ll feel better after some dinner.”

Later that night, as he’s climbing into his sleeping bag, Duck pokes his head into the tent.

“Psst, Indrid, come look.”

Indrid follows him out, kneels by a clump of flowers when he waves him down.

“See, look, riiight there” Duck points, “it’s a Hummingbird Moth.”

Indrid gasps, delighted, and watches the pollinator flit from blossom to blossom. Duck sits beside him, answering his questions when he asks them, until it’s too dark for either of them to see.

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

Duck never thought he’d have a travel companion again. Not after Alaska, not after the attack and what came in the nights to follow.

He certainly never assumed the wiry, silvery haired writer who’d nearl fucked everything up would turn out to be that person. But Indrid, for all his initial skepticism, has become an excellent partner. He’s easy going, eccentric enough that Duck’s own quirks don’t phase him, quiet;y awkward, and a damn good photographer. The fact his alienly handsome face has become a bit windburnt and his pale hair a little longer only adds to his charm.

Christ, Duck wants to rip those red glasses off and kiss him until he’s breathless.

Currently, he’s missing the feeling of long arms around his waist, as he left Indrid back with a family whose jeep had run out of gas. They’re in one of the long, monotonous stretches of desert highway where passersby are few and cell phone service is unreliable, so Duck volunteered to ride ahead to the next gas station and bring some back. As the Jeep comes into view, he sees the family waving. Indrid is leaning against the car, smiling as if Duck is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

That settles it; when they make Santa Fe, he’s calling The Weekly Rounds and asking Woodbridge to extend Indrid’s assignment. And if the old man refuses, well, Animal Planet is thrilled to have him back, and made it clear they’d be happy to pay for an additional camera man.

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

This time they’re the only ones in the campground, and Indrid suspects it might technically be closed. Indrid could do this forever. He wants to stay like this, with Duck, day in and day out, have their evenings be like this. Duck makes a fire, keeping it small to be safe, and the evening progresses like normal, the two of them swapping stories and munching on the dinner they whipped up from leftovers from the last gas station. Then the moon rises, two days from full, and Duck doubles over with a groan.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Indrid moves to help him, but Duck raises his hand to stop him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, ‘Drid, fuck, I thought I had another day, thought we could make it somewhere I could keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? Duck, please, you’re hurt, I can call for help, just hold on.”

“No” Duck snarls, still hunched over, “you ain’t callin anyone. What you’re gonna do is run, far and as fast as you can, away from me. Find a tree, find a cave, flag down a car if you can find one. Go, please, fuck.” He falls off the stump he’s sitting on, and in spite of his instructions Indrid tries to help him up.

“Go!” It’s a growl now, and when Duck looks up at him his face is changing shape. Duck drags himself away from the fire, into the shadows, and Indrid turns, starting to run. There’s howl of pain and he stops. He can’t leave Duck like this. He won’t.

Resolute, he turns back to the camp and immediately regrets his decisions. Whatever is in the shadows isn’t human, not anymore. It’s growling low and labored, as it rises onto two feet and howls.

“Oh fuck me.” Indrid doesn’t dare turn his back, tries to slowly creep away and trips on a stray piece of firewood. The monster lowers to all fours, padding into the firelight across from him. It’s fur is dark and shaggy, it’s hands sport claws and when it opens it’s mouth to grin at him it’s teeth glitter like rows of knives.

He has to keep the fire between him and it, even if he has to spend his night running in some Scooby-Doo style circle around the fire pit. It’s his only chance.

In one, large leap, the werewolf clears the fire and lands in front of him, front paws bracketing his body when he tries to crawl back.

“Told you to run, slim.”

“I, I can’t.”

“Didn’t think you were stubborn to the point of dyin’.”

“Y-you told me not to run from predators, and I c-cannot drive the bike. And, and I didn’t, I couldn’t leave you.”

“Ain’t that sweet.” Duck grins again, “but why do you think I told Leo and Minerva I wasn’t safe to be around no more? Because a werewolf don’t know friend from foe.”

“That’s, that’s a lie. Y-you clearly know me, you know your past, you’re not some mindless killer ahgod.” He whimpers as a muzzle finds the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply before sending hot, hungry breath across his skin.

“Mmmmm, you smell good, sugar.”

“You’re not going to eat me.” Indrid says, eyes shut.

“You seem real sure about that.” Another snuffle, tongue dragging along his throat.

“You’re not because you are still Duck, just very large and covered with fur and with a mouth full of unnecessarily sharp teeth, and even though you seem convinced you’ve become bloodthirsty you are still you.” It comes out in a rush and he holds his breath as a clawed hand cups the back of his head. Duck tugs his head back, nosing along his exposed neck. He stares at the stares, praying they’re not the last thing he sees.

“I could rip your goddamn throat out.” Duck says matter-of-factly.

“Do you want to?” He whispers, hands coming up instinctively to protect his vital organs.

A long growl, and then Duck’s face blots out the night sky, “No. I don’t.”

“Ohthankgoodness.”

Duck rumbles out a laugh, “that’s puttin it mildly, slim. No one ever stuck around long enough to see what I’d do because I always hid myself or they had the goddamn good sense to run when I said too. Always assumed as soon as I was all the way changed, I’d wanna hurt people, even if they were people I loved.” He plucks Indrid’s glasses off, setting them carefully on the picnic table before using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear he hadn’t realized was there.

“What do you want to do instead?”

“In general, or to you?”

“Both?” Indrid is puzzled by his phrasing.

“Kinda amped up, like I wanna go for a run. Transformin’ basically releases a shit ton of adrenaline so your body just doesn’t collapse from the pain. But as far as you’re concerned…” the muzzle his back, snuffling at his face and chest, “dunno, mostly just wanna keep you close. Protect you. Some part of the wolf-brain is kinda just screamin ‘mine’ over and over again.”

“Oh. Ah. That’s, that’s good.” It’s also painfully arousing, but he’s not quite ready to admit that aloud yet.

“Probably helps that you’re wearing my shirt, since it means my scent is all over you already.”

“You let me borrow it AHHEY, gahthattickles” Indrid cackles as licks and nuzzles his face.

“Aww, didn’t know you were ticklish, sugar.” Duck grabs him, begins mercilessly rubbing his face on any exposed skin he can find.

“I’m not you are just very AHhehe hairy!” In retaliation Indrid reaches between them and scritches his fingers against Ducks chest and belly.

ThwupThwup

They both look at Duck’s tail with surprise. Indrid rubs his belly again.

ThwupThwup

“Didn’t know it did that. I mean, guess makes sense on account of bein’ kinda canine, but I guess I ain’t ever been really happy when I been like this before.”

“Should I keep doing that?”

“Fuck yeah. Hold on, here.” Duck adjusts so he’s on his back with Indrid more or less on top of him. Indrid resumes petting him, Duck making little happy whines as he does.

“Damn, that feels good sugar, ooh right.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? It’s a pet name.”

“I, uh, fuck, um, fuck, I didn’t, meant to say, uh, fuck.” A deep breath as Indrid sits up to meet his eyes, “I’m real fuckin into you, ‘Drid. I, I didn’t wanna say nothin until we were somewhere you could bail out easily if you needed to. But I ain’t felt this way about anyone in years.”

“Is that wolf-you talking or you-you talking?” Indrid asks, toying with a patch of fur.

“Both. I wanna be with you, and wanna keep travelin with you as my partner, as my, uh, my boyfriend. As my mate. Okay, that last bit was definitely the wolf talking.”

“I...I would like that as well, Duck. I didn’t know how to say it, I was afraid that what happened with your friends meant you didn’t want to be close to anyone. Including me.”

Duck sighs, “I wish I’d known then what we figured out tonight. Maybe things woulda ended a little better between us three. I just, I couldn’t face the idea of bein’ out on a shoot with ‘em and havin this exact thing happen.”

“I must admit, the lack of a full moon is rather confusing.”

“It ain’t just the full moon. It’s a few days after and before too, and I thought I had one more before it hit. Plan was to sneak out of the hotel in Santa Fe and hole myself up in a cave somewhere.”

Indrid strokes his cheek, the fur a little coarser there, “That was what attacked you three, I take it.”

“Uh huh. We were trackin it, thinkin’ it was some kind of huge predator we might be able to film. It jumped Minerva first, but she’s a tough one, managed to hold her own and only got scratched up. I pulled it off her and it bit me. I, uh, I shot it point blank while it was doin’ that. Turned into a man as it fell in the dirt. Leo and Minerva said I did what I had to but I...well, let’s just say I still see that fellas face a lot in my dreams.”

“No wonder you wanted the footage destroyed.” Indrid murmurs.

Duck nods, waves one hand in front of his face, “damn skeeters, c’mon, let’s get in the tent.”

The tent is a tight fit, but Indrid couldn’t be happier. He crawls onto Duck’s chest, nestling against his fur with a sigh.

“Now if you have bad dreams when you’re like this, you have someone to to hold.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “Thanks, sugar.”

Indrid falls asleep atop a giant wolfman, and wakes up to the morning sun and much smaller, human man sprawled beneath him, who he wakes with a flurry of kisses.

They make Santa Fe by noon, riding in feeling freer then either of them has in a long time. When they ride out the next morning, Indrid has a new job and Duck has a new cameraman. But all either can think about at the moment is his new boyfriend, and the future spreading out ahead of them beneath the rising sun.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #celebrity au #werewolf AU #meet ugly #prompt fills

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fandomrewrites · 4 years

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Season 1; Episode 10: Co-Captain

Hello all! As you can see in the pairings Nate is no longer with (Y/N), if you read the last chapter you know what happened! Please let me know who you want (Y/N) to end up with. I have a few ideas and I may have her date one or two other people before she ends up with “the one”. As always constructive criticism is appreciated!

Season 1; Episode 10: Co-Captain

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter

Word Count: 2,767

Season 1 Masterlist

Once Stiles and I realized that the two Hale’s were gone we quickly made our way to his jeep. We rushed to the school to try and find Scott as soon as possible and warn him about the Alpha is.

After fifteen long minutes we finally made it to the school. We rushed to the lacrosse field to see it empty. We then made our way inside and to the boys locker room hoping to find Scott and me praying that Nate was long gone.

We both crashed through the door, one after the other. Quickly turning the corner we see Scott slumped on the bench.

“Dude. We have a huge problem.” Stiles says.

“Trust me, I know.” is all Scott replies.

*_*_*_*_*_*

The next morning I wake up to the sound of my alarm and tears rolling down my face. I couldn’t remember my dream but when I looked at my phone I saw some unread messages from Nate.

I felt the urge to cry again but quickly blinked the tears away, he does not deserve my tears.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes as I made my way to my bathroom. After showering and getting ready for the day I head downstairs wanting to grab something to eat. As I grab an apple my phone goes off indicating a text. Checking the messages I see that Lydia texted the group chat with Allison and me to ask if we could go shopping.

Before I could answer, Allison said sure but she needed to stop and run an errand beforehand. Lydia and I both agreed and Allison said she would pick us up.

Once the girls picked me up we headed to the woods. It was freezing out but I was happy for the distraction.

“Allison, when you said you needed to stop for an errand before we went shopping, a five mile hike in the woods wasn’t what I was expecting.” Lydia complains, shivering as she walks next to me.

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t mind but I really wish I wasn’t in heels.” I agreed with Lydia.

“It won’t take long.” Allison quickly replies.

“Can you at least tell us what we’re doing?” Lydia asks.

“You’ll see.” Allison then shifts the black bag on her shoulder. She walks slightly ahead of Lydia and myself. “Before I forget, Lydia, I wanted to ask if you’re okay with something.”

“I’ll say yes to anything if it includes getting out of here.��

“Jackson asked me to go to the winter formal with him.”

I immediately roll my eyes knowing that Jackson asked to get on Scott’s nerves. Lydia blinks, not letting her emotions show.

“Did he?”

“Just as friends. But I wanted to see if you were okay with it first.”

Lydia smiles, “Sure. As long as it’s just friends.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m going to take him under the bleachers during lacrosse practice and start making out with him.”

My mouth falls open, I never realized that Allison knew about that and I never told her, even though as her friend I probably should have.

Lydia looks shocked too then starts talking, wanting to defend herself, “Oh. Um, about that...” She trails off as Allison drops her bag and unzips it.

“We should be good here. It’s isolated enough.”

Lydia looks at me with wide eyes and I just shrug unsure what to say to end the awkward silence between the two girls.

Looking down into the bag we see a bow and quiver of arrows. Lydia once again looks at me then looks back at Allison, nervously laughing.

Allison reaches into her bag pulling out an arrow. She twists the arrow head off and replaces it with something else. “What that do?” I ask, looking on with curiosity.

“We’re about to find out.”

She takes a firing position in front of a target pegged to a tree in the distance. Lydia and I stand behind her watching. Once Allison lets the bolt go, it quickly reaches the target. The arrow explodes against the tree with a bright flash of light.

We quickly blink our eyes as Lydia gasps, “What the hell was that?”

Allison lowers the bow, still staring at the tree, “I don’t know.”

I gulp making sure neither girl sees me trying to calm my racing heart beat. It’s one of the flash bolts Scott told me about. Which means Allison will probably find out about werewolves sometime soon.

Allison moves to take the target off the tree. When she comes back Lydia speaks, “Well, that was fun. Any other lethal weapons you want to try out?”

I smirk but it quickly goes away when I hear something not too far away from us. Allison seems to hear it too because she cocks her head to the side trying to pinpoint the noise. Then a moment later, Lydia hears the noise too. All of our heads snapping in the direction of the movement.

“What was that?” Lydia asks.

I speak over the question, “We should probably head back to the car.”

But Allison ignores me, “Hold this.” She hands the bow to Lydia.

“What? Why?” Lydia asks, holding the weapon like she might shoot her eye out.

“I thought I heard something.”

“So what? Let’s just go back to the car. It’s probably an animal, and we’re both freezing.” I say trying to talk Allison out of checking out the noise like I know she wants to do.

“I want to go check it out.”

“What if it’s something dangerous?” Lydia asks, looking wide eyed at the Argent girl.

“Shoot it.” She answers, nodding towards the bow still in Lydia’s hands.

Allison takes off before either of us can protest anymore. Lydia then looks down at the bow in her hands and quickly shoves it into mine, no longer wanting to hold the weapon.

The minute Allison is out of hearing distance I turn to Lydia, “How did she know you kissed Scott?”

Lydia looks helpless as she shrugs in response, “I was hoping you would know.”

I pull my lips together and shake my head.

“What if she hates me now?” Lydia questions.

“Everyone makes mistake, Lyds. She said yes to hanging out today. I doubt she hates you. Plus you’re still getting used to having another good friend around.”

“I have plenty of friends.”

“Sure, we both do. But she’s our first friend that we can actually trust besides each other.”

Lydia opened her mouth to speak again but quickly shut it when we saw Allison, “Finally, can we go? My fingers are completely numb from the cold and look at you,” Lydia gestures to Allison, “Your eyes are tearing up all over the place.”

Allison quickly wipes at the tears grabbing her bag and bow. We then start heading back towards the car.

*_*_*_*_*_*

When I get back home I sit at the kitchen table picking at the food on my plate. My mom finally notices my distant look, “Her,” She says quietly, gaining my attention. I look up at her with wide eyes, “Are you alright?”

I drop my fork, “Not really.” I take a deep breath then start talking, “I caught Nate kissing another girl. I broke up with him.”

“Oh (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” She frowns and gives my hand a squeeze. “He doesn’t deserve you. You are amazing and he is so stupid for not realizing that. You deserve the world, my beautiful daughter, and someday you will find that.”

I sadly smiled, “I know. I just really thought he was the one mom. And I’m so confused.” I groan before continuing, “Part of me is so angry that he cheated on me, like how can someone do that? If you weren’t happy in the relationship just break up!”

I run my hand through my hair then start speaking again, “The other part of me is just really sad. Was I not good enough? Did I do something to deserve this?”

“Sweetheart, of course you didn’t.”

“But that’s the thing mom. I know I haven’t been giving him as much attention recently.”

My mom interrupts me, “Nate is a big boy, (Y/N). If he was feeling upset about you doing other things he should have talked to you rather than cheat. Cheating is never okay, no matter the situation.”

I nodded and bit my lip as my mom continued, “It’s alright that you are feeling both pissed and sad. You have every right to feel that. You should be angry that he did that to you. And though I wish you wouldn’t be sad over it, because trust me he does not deserve your tears, I understand why you are sad. Nate was your first love. But he will not be your last.”

“Thanks mom,” I whispered and quickly raised my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes. She then pulled me into a tight hug, only breaking away when we heard a knock on the door.

She got up to see Allison on the other side, “Hi Mrs. McCall, is Scott here?”

My mom smiled, “He’s in his room.” My mom moved out of the way to let her inside. Allison smiled at me then made her way upstairs.

When Allison was upstairs I looked at my mom, “Thanks again for listening.”

“Anytime (Y/N).” I was about to head up to my room but instead my mom stopped me, “I could actually use your help with something.”

I cocked my head, waiting for her to continue, “I have a date tonight. Could you help me get ready?” I brightly smiled, my mind completely distracted from our previous conversation.

“Of course!”

*_*_*_*_*_*

My mom and I then make our way to Scott’s room to let him know that she is going out, “Scott! I’m going to be coming home late tonight!” My mom yells before making it to his door and opening it.

Scott looks shocked at our moms attire. “What’s wrong? The hair? Makeup?” My mom quickly panics.

“Stop!” I instantly scold, “Do you really think I would make you look bad?”

“Nothing is wrong, mom. You look beautiful.”

Allison nods, “You look amazing.”

“Amazing,” Scott confirms then pauses, “Why do you look amazing?”

I roll my eyes as my mom answers, “Because, amazingly, I’m having dinner for once with a member of the male gender who’s above the age of sixteen.”

“Who?”

Before my mom could answer, I excitedly reply, already knowing the answer from when I asked earlier, “He’s a medial rep who came by the hospital today!”

“What medical rep?”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings, “That medical rep. Oh God, I’m not done yet. I’m not ready. Come with me (Y/N) to help me finish.” Rushing out Scott’s door I follow quickly. My mom then yells at Scott, “Get the door. Talk to him. Be nice!”

About a minute later the doorbell rings again and my mom yells, “Scott! Get the door!”

Another minute the doorbell rings once more, “Scott, for the love of God!” My mom turns to look at me, “I got this, can you get the door.”

“Sure,” I smile, excited for my mom. I quickly reach over to give her a kiss on the cheek then rush down the stairs to get the door.

When I get downstairs I see Scott standing in front of the door, making no move to open it. I gently elbow him out of the way, he starts to protest but before he can I swing the front door open coming face to face with none other than Peter Hale.

I widen my eyes in shock as my stomach drops, I go to shut the door back in his face but before I do his hand reaches out stopping the movement.

My mom calls from upstairs, “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to let him in?”

My hand is still gripped on the doorknob ready to try and close it on him once more, but once again he holds the door open.

“Really? Slam the door in my face? Come on, take a second to think that through.”

“I’ll tell her.” Scott replies, simultaneously pulling me behind him.

“That I used to be a catatonic invalid with burns covering half of my face? Good luck with that.”

“You hurt her... Even touch her...” Scott’s threats are empty though. Peter isn’t afraid of him, not at all.

“Scott, if I can interrupt your listing of the top five most impotent sounding threats for just a moment, try to remember I’ve been in a coma for six years. You don’t think I’d like to have dinner with a beautiful women?”

My mom calls from somewhere in the house, “Half a second, sorry!”

I step away from the Alpha and his beta, quickly finding my black vans and black leather jacket. I sneak out the back door, cell phone in hand. I start walking down the street and call Stiles. He picks up on the third ring, “I need your help.”

I explain the situation and he picks me up; I send a quick text to Scott so he knows the plan.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I sit in the jeep trailing behind my mom and Peter. I clench and unclench my hands trying to stay calm.

Stiles glances at me from the corner of his eye, finally he grabs a hold of my hand, halting my movements, “Will you stop. You’re stressing me out more than I already am.”

“Sorry,” I quickly mumble. Neither of us move to let go of the other’s hand.

We see the car pull to the side of the road. When we finally make it to them Stiles drives his jeep right into the rear end.

Stiles and I glance at each other quickly as my mom gets out of the vehicle, we then move to so the same. “Stiles? (Y/N)?”

“Mom?” “Mrs. McCall?” We both ask feigning surprise.

Stiles continues, “Wow. This is crazy. Talk about a coincidence.”

My mom, exasperated, looks at me, “When did you even leave the house.”

I shrugged, “A few minutes before you, I think. I asked Stiles to hang out.”

My mom sighs as I bit my lip. The three of us then turned to assess the damage to the cars. Stiles then speaks up, “I don’t know what happened. You guys came out of nowhere.”

“Came out of nowhere? We were parked on the side of the road.”

“How crazy is that? We should call the police, do an accident report.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Peter says, finally joining us.

“You sure? I’m feeling a little whiplash.” Stiles raises his hand to rub the back of his neck.

“You have whiplash? You hit us!” My mom says through clenched teeth.

“Something’s definitely wrong with my neck.”

“Something will be when I’m strangling it with my bare hands.”

I glance towards Peter as I see him step away but I speak up before Stiles can reply bringing their attention to me, “Mom we’re sorry okay. It was a complete accident. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine (Y/N). I just wish this date wasn’t ruined.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, accidents happen. He has to understand that.” I tried to give her a reassuring smile but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.

After another few moments Stiles and I left my mom and Peter but only when we knew she was going to be safe.

*_*_*_*_*_*

“God, I am the world’s worst daughter.” I sighed and shoved my head into my hands.

“You were just doing what you had to in order to protect her. I on the other hand am the world’s worst son.”

I looked up to see Stiles slouched in his seat with a distant look in his eyes, “What happened?”

Stiles then sighed and explained that he got his dad drunk so that he told him about the case with Derek he was working on.

“Stiles,” before I could continue my thought he just shook his head.

“I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You’re right. But that doesn’t make you a horrible person. And I’m not either no matter how I feel. We wouldn’t be feeling guilty if we weren’t good people.”

Stiles tilted his head towards me and nodded. I then got out of the car and made my way up to my room, finally ending the day.

#sister mccall imagine #series rewrite #teen wolf imagine #lydia martin imagine

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

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GF + OH - Fallen Owls pt.1

Summary: What happens when the milf of The Owl House meets the dilf of Gravity Falls? Find out in this multi-chapter crossover fic.

pt.2

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Episode Placement:

GF = after finale (S3?) OH = between S1E5 and E6 It was late, passed the gremlins’ bedtime, but it was summer, meaning the term “bedtime” had very little meaning unless Stan was tired and needed to make the kids quiet. But as of right now he was content sitting in his old armchair, boxers and undershirt and slippers and all, munching on popcorn with his family, sitting around telling stories. Stan and his twin brother, Ford, had just finished telling Dipper and Mabel more about the sirens they had faced a few months ago. While sailing around the world was a dream come true, it was nice to take a break to spend the summer with the niblings.

Dipper, having just heard how Stan had been charmed by the sirens’ song, chuckled and asked, “So, did you ever have any luck finding ‘babes’?” Stan rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Nah, but there’s always next year.” “Yeah, don’t worry about it, Grunkle Stan.” Mabel said as she popped some popcorn into her mouth. “You’ll find some pretty girl that is everything you deserve!” Stan, turning red, waved the subject away. “Thanks, sweetie, but it’s fine.” Ford, sitting on the dino-skull, elbowed him lightly and teased, “He’s still heartbroken over Carla McCorckle.” Mabel blew a raspberry. “If I ever find her I’m gonna give her a left-hook and break her nose!” Stan laughed and ruffled her hair. “That’s not necessary, kid. I’m over her.” “And it only took you forty years.” Ford added, earning him a punch on the shoulder. “I’ll have you know I’ve been with plenty of gals after Carla!” Stan quipped. “Heck, I was married once when I was traveling the country!” “Wait, what?!” The whole room gasped at the same time. Ford blinked like a confused owl. “I… I didn’t know that.” “Me, neither.” Mabel said and leaned on Stan’s knee. Dipper, meanwhile, was silent, a memory coming to mind. “Truth is I’ve been divorced once and slapped more times than I can remember.” “What happened? GASP! Do I have a secret Graunty you never told me about?!” Stan barked a laugh. “Hah! No, sorry pumpkin. I was actually married for less than a day. Vegan situation. We reached for the same slot machine handle and it was love at first sight. Marilyn. Had hair like a airline stordis and a neon pink shirt that said ‘Over thirty and very flirty’. Man I was, I was putty in her hands.” Stan said lightly, recalling the most romantic evening he ever had. “You should’ve seen the way she threw dice. One time right at my head. Turns out she only married me to distract me while she stole my car and my winnings. I guess her name was fake and, hair was fake. But ya know, the love was real.” Stan added with a casual shrug. “She was really the one that got away. Like, literally, it was a proper get away. She was chased by cop cars for a mile out of Vegas before ducking out of a door and into a canyon and making off with my loot. Sometimes I still think of her.” The old conman admitted. “That pale bingo hall skin. That one weirdly sharp tooth.” Stan’s face dropped at the sight of his family and he quickly said, “Sorry, I’m getting nostalgic.” “More like love-sick.” Dipper teased. “AW!” Mabel squealed. “That’s so sweet! Maybe you’ll find her one day!” Stan laughed and shook his head. “I doubt it, sweetie, but hey. Who needs stealing babes when I’ve got you three, right?” Mabel yawned and stretched her arms over her head. Ford chuckled and stood up, popping his back. “I think you two should head to bed. It’s getting late and we’re going camping tomorrow, remember?” Mabel gasped happily and stood. “You’re right!” She hugged both her uncles and wished them goodnight and then walked with her brother up the stairs for the attic, then Ford left to go finish packing, leaving Stan alone. He leaned on his knuckles, elbow on his armchair, and he remembered Marilyn. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel was grinning from ear to ear as she skipped ahead on the trail in the woods. “Finally, a real family camping trip!” Grunkle Ford, Dipper, and Grunkle Stan were right behind her, the Pines family heading back to the Mystery Shack after a fun night sleeping under the stars around a campfire. They were all smiling and happy to be reunited for the summer. While some things drastically changed and some things hardly changed at all, the Pines in appearance changed a little since Dipper and Mabel and turned thirteen. Mabel had always been nothing but smiles in the past, but if it was even possible she grinned even more now, proud to show off her braces-free white teeth. She still sported amazing sweaters with colorful headbands and skirts, today wearing a brown skirt and a yellow headband with a light-brown sweater with an owl on it, claiming she wanted to match the woods and her Grunkle Ford; he only proved her point when he blushed. Dipper and Wendy switched hats again when they saw each other when the twins came off the bus, but over his orange t-shirt he wore a green flannel unbuttoned and he matched it with blue jeans. No longer out in the freezing Arctic, Stan left behind his long coat, but he kept his white t-shirt, dark pants, red beanie, and water-proof boots for the hiking trip. Ford, the easily cold twin, still wore red turtleneck and dark pants and boots, but his smile was much more genuine and the crack in his glasses was gone. Grunkle Ford patted his niece’s shoulder. “It is nice to have some quality family bonding.” “Next time I say we go fishing.” Stan injected. “Not as many creepy spider-fires or whatever.” “Scampfires.” “I still say whatever.” Dipper chuckled and continued to sketch in his pinetree journal, shading in trees of his drawing of the woods. But he was pulled from his pleasant thoughts by his great-uncle. “Seriously, kid, you’re gonna walk into a tree and then I’m gonna laugh. You need to get your head outta book and see the rest of the world.” “Grunkle Stan, how do you think people shared the world back in your day? You know, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth?” Dipper quipped. “Oh, ho! Wise guy, huh?” Stan wrapped an arm around his neck and rubbed his knuckles on the top of his head. “Alright, Poindexter Jr…” “No! No nuggies!” “Yes nuggies!” “Ford!” Dipper laughed, calling for backup. Mabel, meanwhile, was slowly being pulled away mentally from the touching scene of guys being dudes as the internet would have called it. Distracting her, a tiny brown owl with cute round eyes was hopping. Not just hopping, appearing from behind one oak tree to the neck, but hopping with a sack clamped by the beak. Mabel watched it with wide eyes, hoping for another look, and the second glance she got of it was so brief she didn’t know how much faith she should have in her eyes, but it looked like that sack had things like a Cubic Cube, a newspaper, a floppy disk, a basketball, and other items that could be classified as junk. Mabel decided not to wait for another glance at the owl and to go look at it for herself. Mabel wandered off the path animals had made and moved in between trees and bushes quietly. Her brown eyes eventually landed on the little owl and she followed it; the clattering of the owl or it’s determination to finish it’s job must have been the reason why it didn’t hear Mabel and try to hide or lose her. The young Pines lady watched, walking farther and farther away from her family, and the owl hopped behind a tree and never emerged. Mabel smiled, thinking she was about to find an owl’s nest in the tree or a stash of human things by the tree’s roots, but when she turned to look behind the tree, she gasped to find a doorway that glowed white. Mabel looked around her for anyone that might have an answer or for any clue as to why this doorway was here, but she was alone. Gravity Falls certainly was where this sort of thing might happen, but that did not guarantee that this was safe. Maybe she should have the guys look at this thing. Mabel turned around, her back to the doorway, to leave, but she saw something above her and took in a sharp breath. Stan had Dipper pinned on the grass now, both of them laughing, with Ford shaking his head and scolding lightly. “Stanley, that’s enough.” “Don’t worry, Grunkle Ford, I promise not to break such an old man.” Dipper teased as he lightly fought back, “Old man?!” Stan repeated in pretend offense. They were interrupted by a blood curdling scream that made their hearts drop. Stan immediately got off of his nephew and stared ahead, terrified. “Mabel…” And he ran for the direction he heard the scream with Ford and Dipper at his heels. Mabel pulled her grappling hook out of her hiking-backpack and tried to calm down, but it was hard to with the dangerous anomaly liking it’s chops at the sight of her. It was like a gray lizard, but ten feet long, including the tail, and only on it’s four legs it was seven feet tall. It’s eyes were red and narrow and cold, and it had long sharp claws like a dragon’s and a long snout like a crocodile. Mabel shot her grappling hook at the monster and it hit it on the snout, tossing its head back. The lizard hissed but did not back down. It advanced, getting closer to Mabel, and she wanted to back away, but she was careful not to touch the spooky doorway. Stan saw the scene first, appearing out of the corner of Mabel’s eye. “Mabel!” “Grunkle Stan, what do I do?!” She asked, her eyes glued to the giant lizard. Ford and Dipper caught up. The younger moved to jump between his sister and the monster, but Ford stopped him with a firm six-fingered hand. “No! Listen to me, Mabel. That thing is called a Stone-Reptilian. They're excellent at camouflaging into mountains and can hang onto a one-hundred-and-eighty degree wall for hours, waiting for its prey. It actually has two tongues: one for licking its eyes since it doesn't have eyelids, and one for paralyzing it’s dinner and dragging the meal into its mouth.” “So what do I do?!” Mabel begged, shaking a little at the idea of being paralyzed and then eaten alive. “Mabel, stay calm, it’s alright.” Ford soothed with a voice as soft as silk. “Stone-Reptilians have excellent eyesight, but they’re deaf. Notice how it’s isn’t reacting to us. Now, I want you to…” The Stone-Reptilian suddenly whipped out it’s long, thorn-covered tongue to paralyze Mabel, but she was too quick and leaped through the doorway to survive. As she did, it disappeared, and the Pines men were left to scream and then fight for their own lives. ~~~~~~~~~~ “Whoops, can’t have another stowaway, can I?” A voice said, and then before Mabel knew it, her way back home was gone. She observed her new surroundings. Misfit things like a refrigerator, a grandfather clock, an old mattress, and cardboard boxes full of items cluttered what looked like a big tent, judging by the cloth walls and such. Mabel smiled with wonder at the things. “Wow. What a collection.” She whispered. Her eyes landed on a small glass ballerina on top of a music box. She turned the ballerina around with a finger to catch a few music notes. Mabel smiled, but was once again distracted. “Right, let’s see here… Nope. Garbage. Garbage. Another one of these? Oh, well. Good thing the potions have been selling. I should really thank Luz for helping me take out that competitor. Or not.” Mabel covered her mouth with both hands to keep from snorting; that sounded like something her Grunkle Stan would say. Her heart sagged a little and she turned to look back at where the magical doorway once was. Despite what he might pretend, Mabel knew Stan would be really worried about her. She needed to find a way back home. She crawled on her hands and knees out from under the tent and then got up to explore. “Okay, let’s see…” Mabel looked around to find herself outside in the open air. She raised an eyebrow. “The… Crawlspace? I thought it was underground? Maybe there’s more to it! Won’t Grunkle Ford be surprised!” Mabel cheered and looked around for anything familiar, but the longer she looked, the more she realized nothing was like back in Gravity Falls. She stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking an odd city of some kind. Giant monster hands with no body stood like trees. Smoke rose from chimneys of medieval-looking houses. A small herd of cat-sized dragons flocked by the clouds. A mammoth roared like a lion and then walked into the ocean. Something resembling an orange nun was selling bags of oozing red stuff to tiny red monsters with teeth and fangs for a face. People were riding a giant caterpillar from inside its mouth and then kissing it for a toll. Mabel’s heart was racing from excitement and fear. Nothing here was familiar, but she was familiar with the unfamiliar. She grasped the straps of her backpack and took a deep breath. “Okay, Mabel, you’ve obviously discovered another rift and came to another dimension. Just remember what your grunkles taught you. Don’t touch this dimension's version of yourself or everything will explode. I just gotta live long enough for them to find me. Easy.” Her stomach suddenly growled. Mabel clenched her stomach on reflex, but then remembered her bag of marshmallows, pulled them out, and began to munch on her fluffy sugar pillows. She turned around and walked away from the tent she had left, saw she was in some sort of market, and walked down the street to explore calmly. ~~~~~~~~~~ “And remember to apply it twice a day for the best results.” Luz said friendly to a blue monster made out of goo as she handed her the small bag of dust and the customer closed the door on the human. Luz wiped her sweaty forehead with her wrist and groaned. “Man, it’s so hot today. Ready to head home, King? King?” She looked down to find that the king of demons had found the perfect spot on the porch to nap in the sunshine. Luz smiled, scratched his back, and scooped him up one-armed while her other hand carried the empty sack. “Eh?” King woke up, angry and cute. “Luz! I was having the perfect dream!” “About what?” “What could be more perfect than sleeping?!” “You were dreaming about sleeping?” Luz clarified with a confused smile. “Don’t you?” Luz snorted a laugh and walked through Bonesburrow. Compared to the rest of the Boiling Isles, the apprentice had learned that this was the quietest neck of the woods. King’s nose caught a delightful scent, but the demon was unsure if he should believe it. He sat up in Luz’s arm and smelled the air. “What is it?” Luz asked. “Hm, it’s sweet. Really sweet.” King commented and shivered. “Like, really sweet. So sweet it’ll put anyone in a sugar-induced coma.” “Well, why don’t we just go home and we can have some of Eda’s strawberry jelly instead.” Luz suggested as they turned a corner. She immediately saw the one really really weird thing in the Boiling Isles, apart from her. Another human. After being away from home for about three weeks, Luz didn’t think she would be so happy to see another human girl or see human food that wasn’t red, but here she was, eyes sparkling with happy tears over the sight. Mabel’s eye eventually landed on Luz and the two stared at each other, a good twenty feet away from each other. After a few moments, however, they both shouted, “ANOTHER HUMAN!” And ran towards each other, King clinging onto Luz’s arms in order not to fall. “Wait,” The brunette said and looked worried. “Is this your first time seeing another human here? How long have you been trapped here?!” She apparently had drawn the conclusion that there was no way out of this place. “Oh, no,” The Latino smiled and shook her head. “I’m not trapped here; I can leave whenever I want, I just choose not to.” “Oh. Cool! Hi! I’m Mabel!” “Hi, Mabel.” Luz greeted. “I’m Luz! So… how did you get here?” Mabel’s face dropped a little and she looked around. “You know, I’m not really sure. One minute I was camping with my family and the next I’m falling through a door that disappears and takes me here.” Luz giggled and shook her head. “You must have fallen through Eda’s door. Don’t worry, I can get you back home.” “You can?!” Mabel hugged her tightly, squishing King in between the two girls. “ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!” Luz, who was quite the hugger but lived with two hug-haters, grinned and relished in the hug, until a high-voice yelled, “AH! What is with you humans and this tight holding ritual?!” Mabel’s eyes got wide and she jumped away, looking around wildly; that voice sounded too familiar for comfort, but when she saw the king of demons, she gasped with a huge grin and shining eyes. “OH MY GOSH! How cute!!!” She squealed. “Thanks.” Luz giggled and rubbed his belly. “This is the King of Demons.” “This little bundle of joy?” Mabel asked, happily smoothing over his skull and scratching his back. “That’s what I said!” “Hey, hey, easy with the merchandise!” King complained. “What makes you think you can… oh! Oh! Right there, yup, right there.” Mabel had found the right scratching spot, just between his shoulder-blades, and King relaxed in Luz’s arms, almost asleep he was so comfortable. Mabel giggled and asked, “So, how can you get me back to my family?” Luz gave it a moment’s thought and said, “Well, I guess we could take you to Eda and have her send you home, but she’ll be going home soon and it’s kinda…” The girls screamed as a huge guard jumped in front of them. He glared down at the humans and said, “Human previously associated with Eda the Owl Lady, you’re hereby under arrest!” “Not today, sucka!” Luz yelled, threw down one of Eda’s smoke bombs, and grabbed Mabel’s wrist. “Come on! I know where to go!” “Crazy monsters, criminals, smoke bombs, demons… I LOVE IT HERE!” Mabel cheered as she was fleeing with her new friends. ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan huffed, catching his breath, with his hands on his knees. Ford helped Dipper up cautiously, scanning him over for broken bones from when the monster swung his tail at the boy and slammed him against a tree, but apart from being shaken up, he was fine. Now that the Stone-Reptilian was gone, the Pines men were free to worry about the most important thing in their whole world. “MABEL?!” Stan screamed and looked around wildly for the rift that took her away. “MABEL! MABEL, SWEETIE!” “Mabel!” Ford called out. “Mabel, can you hear us?!” “MABEL! MABEL!” Stan screamed and ignored his stinging eyes. Dipper’s own brown eyes were aching, too, but he refused to be seen as weak and he powered through. “Did… did that thing… g-g-get her?” “No.” Ford said firmly. “I saw it. She fell through… some sort of door, or a rift.” “A-A door?” “It was rectangular like one, but it was hard to tell.” “The Crawlspace!” Dipper gasped and slapped his forehead. “Don’t the entrances change randomly through Gravity Falls? What if she fell through and is down at the black market?” “What, you mean she’s probably surrounded by dangerous monsters in some freaky market?” Stan asked. “It’s a likely possibility.” Ford speculated, holding his cleft chin. “Scour the area. If it was an entrance to the Crawlspace, one will show up again soon.” The three men split up, relatively close, and searched for an anomaly. Maybe a hole in a tree or in the ground, what might have been passed as a bird’s nest or a groundhog’s home could actually be an entrance. Stan was checking some bushes when he thought he heard a strange noise and he looked ahead. A rectangular white light appeared on an oak tree and soon an owl with an empty sack in its beak hopped out. Stan gasped and thought that this was the doorway that took his little girl. Ford saw his twin run out of the corner of his eye and then disappear through the hole. “Stanley, wait!” He called and ran towards him, disappearing, too. Then the doorway was gone. Dipper looked around nervously. “Hello? Guys?” He paused, letting it sink in that, once again, he was alone. “I swear if she’s at MAB3L again…” ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan had stopped. Ford then accidently ran into him and they both fell forward. “Sixer, get off!” “Shh!” Ford slapped a polydactyl hand over his brother’s mouth, which made him grumble, but before Stan could lick his hand in response, he heard what Ford was hearing. “I’ll give you fifty snails for the whole lot.” A laugh-filled snort followed. “It’s seventy-five, kid. Take it or leave it.” That voice… something was familiar about that laugh. There was grumbling and what sounded like items being collected. Stan and Ford exchanged looks and slowly got up. After looking around the tent, they peered out of the crack in the curtains to see an odd market. They awed at the sight of dozens of weird creatures. One looked like a turquoise hairless-cat. One looked like a pig with green eyes and it breathed fire on a piece of meat on a stick to cook it for a snack. A kid with pointy ears dropped a basket full of eyeballs and scrambled to pick them up. Ford grinned excitedly like a dork while Stan winced at the sight of an ice-cream eating a customer. Stan glanced to his left and he had to hold his breath to keep from gasping and blowing their cover. Wearing a tight-fitted, torn maroon dress and matching boots, gold on her chest and ears and fingers and a sharp tooth, her eyes sparkling like gold coins, a woman with big gray hair and pointy ears leaned against a table full human things and flicked through a Gold Chains for Old Men magazine with a skeptical look on her face. Stan was nearly as pale as she was when she snorted another laugh and flipped a page. “Hah! Not a bad read. Better than that kindling Luz keeps around.” She mumbled and made herself comfortable in her chair, waiting for another customer, one leg crossed over the other and she lightly kicked it as she read. Stan swallowed. There was no way. No possible way… then again, given everything weird that’s happened to him, from freaky portal, to demon triangles, to gnomes and unicorns and sirens and krakens, even to a full-blown Weirdmageddon, should he really be all that surprised that faith would bite him in the butt like this? Ford glanced down at his twin and found he could read him like an open book. “Stanley…” He hissed. The lady straightened in her seat and looked up from the magazine, listening. Now it was Stan’s turn to cover Ford’s mouth. They were still, waiting for the ady to find them, but she shrugged casually and continued to read. The men backed away, out of sight, and were each on one knee, facing each other, as they whispered. “Sixer, where the heck are we? The Crawlspace?” “I’m not sure.” Ford hissed. “I have never seen these types of anomalies before. I suppose it’s possible they hide here during the day and I had never seen them at night, but… this place feels off. To summarize, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” “Fine, but when what do we do about Mabel?” “Our objection is still the same. Let’s just keep a low profile and try to find her.” The twins froze when the curtain was thrown open and the lady stood before them. She immediately sneered down at them. “If you amateur pickpockets think you can…” But then she stopped, for several reasons. One: these creatures were clearly old, about her age, and so unless they had a sudden career change, they were not amateurs. Two: as a human expert and a teacher and hostess of a human, she instantly recognized these two big-eared creatures as humans. Three: something about the one in the white shirt and red hat was very familiar. “No… way…” She narrowed her golden eyes. Stan was now confident that his memory wasn’t flawed; the way she reacted to seeing him, recognizing him, confirmed that he knew her. Before he could do anything, she grabbed each twin by the ear and pinched; they were at her mercy and receiving flashbacks from when their mother was angry with them. “You two got some explaining to do.” The lady sneered. “Gah! Let us go, crazy old bat!” Stan barked as she dragged them out from the tent and made them sit on barrels for stools. “Who are you calling old, human?” The lady sneered and crossed her arms over her chest. “Just tell me what you think you’re doing here.” “Begging your pardon on our introduction,” Ford said coldly, but then softened as he and his brother did have an important mission. “But our grandniece is missing. We believe she came through here.” And he pulled out a picture of Mabel hugging a stuffed-penguin from his wallet and showed it to her. The lady peered down at the photo and said, “Sorry, old-timers, I haven’t seen anyone like that around here.” “Now, how can we trust you, Marilyn.” Stan sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. Ford’s eyes widened as he pocketed his picture. He was rendered speechless for a moment. “Oh, like you’re one to talk about honesty, Stan.” She deride. “You two know each other?!” Ford gasped, looking from his brother to the stranger rapidly like a game of tennis. “She’s your ex-wife?!” The lady snorted a laugh and sighed happily. “Ah, good times, huh?” “Not really.” Stan sneered and stood. “You still owe me five hundred bucks!” “At least you got your car back, Grumpy.” The lady teased and patted his cheek; he swatted her hand away in response and growled like an angry pitbull. “If you want my help finding your girl then play nice.” “So, you honestly didn’t see her.” Stan repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, I may be a conwoman, a pickpocket, and the most powerful witch you’ll ever meet, but I wouldn’t lie if it was gonna endanger some kid.” The lady snapped her fingers and all of the human collectibles floated and gathered into a green cloth, tied up like a hobo’s luggage. She pulled out a staff and put the bag through it, making it easy to carry. Eda whistled and the little owl flew to her and landed on her staff and turned into wood. “Come along, humans, we’ll find your niece and get you two home.” Ford followed the lady and decided to be the “nice” one since Stan was obviously too salty to be one; someone had to be nice to the lady that was going to help them find Mabel. “Thank you, Marilyn.” “Oh, right. That’s not my real name…” “Knew it.” “... you’re a fool to give your real name to a casino in Vegas. It’s Edalyn, but just call me Eda. Or your worst nightmare.” “Whatever you say, toots.” Stan growled as they walked down the street. “So, Eda,” Ford cut in to try to cut the tension between the two. “What exactly is this place, and what are you?” Eda stopped suddenly and turned around, wearing a proud grin. She stabbed her staff on the ground with a small bang, making the owl come to life, the sack hanging by her fist, and she proclaimed, “I am known as the Owl Lady, the most powerful witch here on the Boiling Isles!” “A witch?” Stan laughed. “More like a b…” “I am a feared, respected, vigorous force to be reckoned with!” Eda went on and let go of the staff so it floated like a witch’s broomstick. “Come on, old-timers, let’s get a bird’s eye-view to find your girl.” They each grabbed the staff when Eda sat upon it and yelled with fear as she had them fly up in the air, leaving the old twins to dangle in the air. “GAAAAAAAH!” “EDA!” Stan yelled. “Put us down!” “That can be arranged.” Eda said cunningly and swooped down quickly. With the air drying Eda’s eyes and forming tears and the brother holding onto the staff (and each other) for dear life, all three were yelling, one with delight, two with fright. “STANLEY!” Ford shouted. “PLEASE try not to piss off your ex-wife!” Eda laughed and at the very last second, right before the men would crash into the ground, she flew them up into the sky. “Ah, don’t worry, I won’t let you two knuckleheads get hurt.” They flew softer and calmer above the Boiling Isles and the humans awed at the scene. In the carcass of a monster, by the sea, the Bones of the Isles sat snug in the midst of chaos. Eda floated to allow the men a moment to take in the scenery, smiling down at their round brown eyes. “It’s beautiful.” Ford admired. “Yup, not too shabby.” Eda commented casually. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” “We know what that’s like.” Stan muttered. “Speaking of which,” Eda said casually. “Where did you two say you were from?” “We didn’t. Gravity Falls, Oregon.” Ford answered, keeping an eye out for Mabel. “Oh, I’ve heard rumors about that place.” Eda said as she flew calmly over the town. “My door has a bad habit of appearing there way too often. I need more variety in my human collectibles.” “So, you steal our junk and try to sell it for a great price?” Stan asked; he sounded a little impressed. “That and I sell potions on the weekdays. When I’m not mentoring my student. Enough chit-chat, see your girl down there?” The men took a few more minutes to look, as well as Eda, but there was no sign of her. “No.” Ford’s voice dripped with concern. “Eda, what are the chances she was kidnapped or hurt?” “Oh, that probably didn’t happen to her.” The witch said calmly. “If she’s not safe she probably got eaten or taken by Warden Wrath.” “WHAT?!” “Relax, Sixer,” Stan said, confident in his pumpkin. “She’s our little fighter, she’ll be fine.” Eda snorted. “Sixer?” “It’s Stanford, actually.” His face was a little red over the fact that he couldn’t hide his six-fingered hands, too busy holding the magic staff to keep from falling. “Meh, I’ve seen weirder.” Eda looked like she truly didn’t care how many fingers he had; Ford appreciated that. “Well, I’ve got a great tracker at home.” The Owl Lady said and started to fly towards the red forest. “Why don’t we go pick him up and see if he can help us out. Got anything the girl held?” “Yes,” When the men landed on their feet and Eda hopped next to them, Ford pulled out his wallet again and took out a folded-up, hand-drawn picture of Stan and Ford on a boat, a gift from Mabel while they were apart that she had mailed to them. “Aw, that’s so cute.” The witch cooed. “Who knew all Pines men were putty in girls’ hands.” She laughed at her own joke and shook her head. “Ah, keep moving, boys.” Stan hurried to catch up and he walked next to Eda with narrow eyes, ignoring the way her odd golden fang sparkled, how her eyes gleamed with spunk, how she held herself up high with pride. “So, you’re gonna answer some questions for me…” “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” “If you’re a witch, what were you doing in Las Vegas?” “Hey, a witch’s gotta make some gold, too.” Eda shrugged as she smiled. “I haven’t exactly kept a clean record here so making a living takes a bit of extra effort, but it’s much for fun and unpredictable, the way life's supposed to be.” Stan raised an eyebrow at two things: the fact his ex was a criminal in this world too, and her philosophy. “I can respect that, seeing how I was there for the same reasons.” “I know.” Eda rolled her eyes teasingly. “You wouldn’t shut up about how you were gonna make it big and show the world what this big lug could do.” And she elbowed Stan, which he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh. Yeah, what can I say, I’m a real loud-mouth. Say what’s on my mind.” “Hey, nothing wrong with being brutally honest to make up for lying, am I right?” Eda said with a shrug. “So, was your hair fake back then, or…” “No, no, it was real. I was really proud of my hair back in the day, flaming red and wild.” “Looks pretty good now. Love it, in fact. Big and bold, hard to miss.” “Hey, you aged pretty well yourself, handsome.” Ford smiled as he watched the exes tease and pick on each other. If a compliment was given, it dripped with sarcasm and there was no guarantee that it was sincere, but they must have seen a gleam in their eyes or felt a “vibe” that Ford didn’t experience, because the conversation progressed well as they walked through the forest. Ford was happy to see Stan get along fairly well with this woman and wondered if this would go exceptionally better than the whole McCorkle incident. They emerged from the woods and found a large house standing by some cliffs leading to an ocean. It was about as far from the seas as Pines Pawns was all those years ago. The house was big, maybe bigger than the Mystery Shack (probably not if counting the basement-floors) with a big stain-glass window that reminded Stan of a cat’s eye and Ford of Bill’s eye, but then they both individually remembered Eda’s title and realized it was probably representing an owl’s eye. A weather-vane with an owl sat on top of the house, a broken-down tower stood behind, and an owl’s head was on the door. The humans were startled, but they quickly recovered, again having experienced much weirder than a live owl-head on a door. “Girl knows how to keep a theme going.” Stan commented as they approached. “Oh, boy!” The owl on the door hooted. “More company! Maybe they wanna hear some of my stories!” “Not a chance, Hooty.” Eda quipped. “Is King still home? We need his help, and we might want Luz’s too while we’re at it.” “They’re both telling stories to that new human. The one with the pretty owl sweater.” “Wait, what?!” The three old people asked and Hooty swung open the door. Luz was holding King on her lap on the couch, sitting with Mabel as all three were laughing. Even King was rolling around and holding his little fluffy body with glee. Mabel’s back was to the door and she resumed her storytelling as she wiped a tear under her eye. “So then I look down at Dipper and see that he’s still got his socks on!” Luz cackled a laugh and held her head one-handed, her other arm still holding King, but it was to no avail as the demon fell off from all the laughing. Eda, Ford, and Stan smiled as the girls were having fun. They had no idea how they found each other, but it was better for them to be here, safe and happy, than to have the newbie be someone’s meal. Luz fanned her reddening face and finally noticed the company. “Hi, Eda. Sorry, but she was lost and needs our help.” Mabel turned, on her knees on the couch, but grinned with a gasp. “GUYS!” And she hopped over the arm of the couch for her grunkles. “Mabel!” They opened their arms and got on one knee for their girl. Mabel ran into their hold and they hugged her tightly, relieved to be with her again and to find her more than okay. “What did I tell you about scaring me like that, pumpkin?!” Stan asked as he held her with all of his might. “You didn’t tell me, Grunkle Stan.” “Oh, right.” “We’re just so happy to find you alright, my dear.” Ford loosened his grip just enough to look up at Luz, who was smiling admirably at the reunion. “And I see you’ve made some friends.” Mabel let go and nodded. “Yeah! That’s Luz! Luz, these are my grunkles! Stan and Ford!” “Nice to meet you guys.” Luz said and waved politely. “Mabel said you’d come, but how did you two survive out there?” “They nearly didn’t.” Eda lied easily. “Were in the mouths of a giant giraffe when I saved their butts.” “Yeah right!” Stan barked a laugh. “Anyways, we’ve been through worse, kid.” Luz gasped excitedly. “Worse than giant bugs and centaurs with eyes on their chest and man-eating slugs and fire-breathing eye-less fangs and jealous witches?!” “Worse. I’ve punched a pterodactyl in the face and a few zombies, fallen down a Bottomless Pit, lost my hands to a witch, fought off eagles and explosions, survived giant man-eating spiders…” “Stanley, that is all impressive, but have you fought a talking chair, battled in four wars, conned an abominable snowman, outran a volcano, examined floating eyebats, been turned to gold…” “I find that hard to believe.” Eda snorted. “I believe them.” Luz said with a shrug. “You always said weird stuff leaks from this world into theirs.” “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Ford said, stepping forward. “What exactly is this place? I’ve heard rumors of a place called the Boiling Isles, but I just thought it was a little hiding place like the Crawlspace, not an entirely new dimension.” “Nope!” Eda corrected happily. “This whole world is the Boiling Isles, a world full of despair, monsters, gross-stuff, demons, and magic.” “This place sounds so cool!” Mabel cheered. She looked at Luz and said, “No wonder you wanted to stay here. Wait! Do you have your own room?!” “Yeah! C’mon, I’ll show you!” And the girls ran off with Luz scratching King’s tummy and leaving him to nap on the floor, tired from laughing. Eda plopped down on the couch and gestured for the men to do the same. “I’d offer refreshments but all we have is apple blood and some disgusting beverage Luz likes called orange juice.” Stan looked up at the wanted poster of Eda and the reward promised for her capture. He smiled, impressed and interested. “We’re okay, thank you, Eda.” Ford said. “If you don’t mind me asking, our niece said something about Luz choosing to stay here?” “Yeah, that’s right.” Eda reached under her couch-cushion and rummaged as she spoke. “Kid came through my door when Owlbert brought over some little treasures to sell. Sweet girl. Kinda naive and gullible, but clever in her own right and she’s a fast learner. Stubborn with the forces of positivity.” Stan snorted. “Heh. We know someone like that.” “She said she didn’t fit in at home.” Eda finally found what she was looking for and pulled out a wrinkled, crumpled up pamphlet at read, Reality Check Summer Camp: Think Inside the Box. “Don’t really understand some of this human stuff, but I figured it must be pretty bad if it made a kid not wanna go home, so I read over it and this place sounds awful! Totally squandered any creativity or individualism! Her own mother was sending her here!” Eda let Ford look it over and she shrugged off the rant. “Anyway, she said she wanted to stay and she was willing to work for it, so I took her in as my apprentice for the summer and now she’s learning how to be a witch.” “Hm, sounds a lot better than kidnapping.” Stan approved with his arms crossed over his chest. “This place is completely horrible.” Ford commented about the summer camp. “They teach kids how to appropriate public radio!” “AM or FM?” “Both.” “Ouch.” “So, what exactly are you doing with such a cute girl, Eight-Ball?” Eda asked, getting Stan’s attention. “And what is a grunkle?” She snorted with a smile. “She’s our grandniece.” Stan said proudly, puffing out his chest. “We’re her great-uncles. Her grunkles.” “Aw, who knew you were such a softie?” “I am not!” “You watched over five hours of video-tutorials on how to braid hair.” Ford said behind the pamphlet. “She asked me to braid her hair and it bothered me that I couldn’t do it!” Eda cackled and touched Stan’s shoulder. His eyes followed and he smiled at her cute laugh. “Aw, you’re worse than King.” King peeked an eye at her and sneered, “One more passive aggressive comment and I’ll…” “That’s not a passive aggressive comment.” Eda said as she picked up the little goofball. “I can do better than that.” “Huh, and here I was thinking that was just one of Luz’s toys.” Stan teased. “Hey!” King stood on the couch by Eda’s side and pointed a bony paw at the old man. “Since you’re a human, I’ll let you walk away with a warning, but have it be known that I’m the King of Demons and shall one day drink the fear of those who mock me!” Ford folded the pamphlet and observed King cautiously. He didn’t like… his voice. His voice sent shivers down the old scientist’s spine. Stan snorted. “Sorry, pipsqueak, but I’ve faced worse demons than you.” “Oh, yeah, like what?” King asked. The girls came back, smiling and holding hands, and Luz asked, “Eda, can we please please PLEASE have a sleepover?! I want to show Mabel the new light spell I learned and show her how to properly scratch a demon’s tummy.” Ford chuckled and stood. “I’m sorry, ladies, but we really should be heading back. I’m sure Dipper is worried sick.” Mabel gasped with horror. “Oh, NO! Dipper!” “Oh, hey, don’t worry.” Luz eased. “You two are totally welcome here anytime you want.” “Aw, thanks, Luz.” Mabel hugged her and said, “I promise I’ll bring Dip-Dip next time. He’d love it here! And he could tell you all about the Manotaurs and the weird copy-machine.” Eda and Stan stood up, too, and the Owl Lady had her arms crossed over her chest. “Well, looks like we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon. You okay with them hanging out?” Stan shrugged and pocketed his hands in his jeans. “Yeah, sure. Good friends are kinda rare these days. Gotta hold onto ‘em and never let ‘em go.” “Agreed.” Eda said and saw them exchanging those odd codes on their glowing rectangles. “Well, have your girl tell my girl when to open the door and I’ll see what I can do.” And she held out a hand to Stan. He hesitated (not just because of whose hand it was, but because shaking hands always seemed to lead to something bad, but maybe this time will be different), but he took it and shook it gently. “Yeah, and if your girl never needs a break in the human world, have her tell my girl.” Eda smiled at Stan and shook Ford’s hand, as well. She pulled the key out of her hair and unlocked the door, making it appear and swing open. Mabel skipped to her great-uncles and waved goodbye to Luz, who waved back, and she went with Ford through the door for home. Stan stole one last look at Eda, who winked at him, and he disappeared with a pink face.

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: OKAY, first things first, when it comes to fic, I personally don't really like crossovers. Crossovers can be a fun NON-CANON crossover for animation or actors. I get more enjoyment over fun fanart than I so of fics, because I like mine more plot-driven and it's hard to get a good story going just because you wants certain characters to mingle. HOWEVER, I find Gravity Falls and The Owl House just fit so well together! Why? #1: Alex Hirsch and Dana Terrace (the creators) are dating and Dana Terrace is responsible for the awesome Ducktakes reboot (season 1, anyway) AND the famous Not What He Seems scene. So having such a strong connection creativity wise of the shows is very apparent, more so than the other shows. #2: Evidence that supports these connections. Both shows have referenced each other and a theory goes that Eda and Stan were once married for less than a day. (plz check this video for more) And #3: ... I ship it pretty damn hard, okay? So I hope you guys will enjoy this fun little crossover as much as me! And thank you so much for reading!

#gravity falls #the owl house #eda the owl lady #stan pines #luz noceda #mabel pines #ford pines #dipper pines #king of demons #crossover #fallen owls #fanfiction #oh boy #plz don't hate me but i had to #im shipping trash #its official #remember bitches love comments #and yes i am taking suggestions #what trouble should these silver foxes get into?

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boybandsim · 4 years

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leafeana replied to your post:

WAIT i was just scrolling through your blog cause im hungry for content and saw this again and realized you asked what version i was playing? which i dont remember answering whoops

im playing it on pc! which is great bc then i get to mess around with mods (like the one that gives cindy some real clothing lol) but its also got its downsides since my computer is definitely not a gaming computer, which means graphics take a serious hit and lagging isnt uncommon

im...not sure if its royal edition?? I think windows edition has all the features of royal edition, although im not completely sure. I think luna has a cutscene in Insomnia thats only in royal edition, so once im there ill be able to tell. technically im in Insomnia now but ive time traveled back and it might be a while before i push on to the finale. after dealing with Altissia --> the start of Insomnia linearly i wanted some time to chill with the bros and pretend

everything is fine for a while. it has been a WILD ride for sure and yeah I haven't even started up any of the dlc yet! theres so much content!! ive been practicing playing as the other bros during medium-hard combat which has kept it feeling really fresh too. also its hilarious just blasting bad guys with a bazooka while the other people are in there swinging around swords and knives. and i haven't done any of the crossover quests yet, which seem big and exciting!

ill be forever sad that i missed the assassins festival but theres definitely plenty to do that I'm excited for. and im getting really into the fishing!! charmed is definitely the right word like..its not perfect at all but this game is so genuinely endearing with its characters personalites and development and its themes and music as well and it really does some things SO well.

god okay this is a lot of words. sorry for rambling and for the late reply! no one i know plays this game or has much interest in it so youre getting all my bottled up enthusiasm

PLEASE DO NOT EVER APOLOGISE FOR RAMBLING SEND ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE WORDS AND THOUGHTS AND TALKING ABOUT FFXV DUDE <3333 also literally no worries about late replies or replying at all im forever shit at them myself i get it bro nw nw nw

hell yeah pc is royal edition with a bunch of other shit and the dlcs (bar ardyn) incorporated, dont worry, also i would die for that one cindy in a decent outfit mod i know the exact one youre on about LOL (also i can recommend you some other mods if u like!!)

if i can share some knowledge with you right quick cuz i had the same problem and wouldve died to have someone tell me i went from barely 20fps on a good day to being able to run multiple programs with ffxv in the background; specialk is a very quick install and majorly helped with multithreading; otherwise for the in game options are using low resolution texture pack (assets option); shadows look near visually identical on the lowest option compared to the highest; all nvidia effects can be turned off with no significant graphic change; turning off anti aliasing entirely genuinely makes the game look better for me; i can post my full settings if itll help you and ive also read through a few tutorials for modding around lag so i can try and help you with that, i do get pretty major lag spikes though and frequently find it near impossible to stream/record, but i manage to nail that 60fps on average if im solely running ffxv with a few cut corners like those

also dont blame you with altissia, ngl i boiled through the story rollercoaster right quick after exploring most of the open world before even touching altissia and ended up ignoring all postgame content for starting a new save immediately and replaying just to get that hangout time in the open world that wasnt just go-back-in-time-through-magic-dog. but i feel you so hard dude i just want more of them chilling. literally i have 300 hours in this game already and i know half of those have been using the car listening to tunes LMFAO

yeah the crossover quests are funnn the one with terra wars is sweet and the ffxiv one is SO funny its literally hysterical i was roaring with laughter a couple times!!! and good on you practising i didnt touch any of the extended combat until my third save and yeah honestly if you want to do the postgame menaces those skillsll come in useful, its funny because the maingame bosses arent that hard but the postgame is mental. but yeah i love blowing shit up with proms bazooka it fucking rules nerds can keep their swords

ALSO SAME... i wanna play the promptis date so bad!! i wanna play episode duscae so bad!!! wanna play the platinum demo with baby noctis so bad!! knowing theyll never be ported kills meeeeee. sad & upset but as you say theres so much to do and the dlc honestly offer so much im still finding shit i havent done and ive spent a year playing already

honestly so much of this game for me is literally just booting it to go hang with the guys its really relaxing lmfaooo... hiking around with these goofy dudes. sometimes i just wanna chill with the anime boys. YEAH literally its sweet and charming and then fucking heartbreaking and even though the writing is hammy as hell im honestly so willing to forgive it. not only for the clear amount of care and love that went into specifically building the guys relationship (which anyone knows is the best and most realised part of the game) but the details and amount of lore you can uncover if you take a step and interpret a little. maybe thats too generous a statement for what was an executive nightmare and critically underdeveloped but i grew up on ffxiii and knowing the versus 13 lore and that ffxv was part of that extended canon im satisfied with it being another side to that story and running with that. i think supplemented with its additional content years after release ffxv isnt a complete experience but enough of one to leave an impact or at least it did majorly for me! ive been obsessed.

OMG sorry im nerding too its all good lol just genuinely i love this game and its hard to find people talking about it these days but i really had such a good time and still am continuing to and i love it fuck it ball hard

real shit though it has the best fishing minigame of all time hands down nothing has come close fuck the haters

#readmore for dashboards

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years

Link

Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Chapter 10

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

tags: @bunny222

Virgil took very long strides on the way to campus this morning. Roman was lucky he was quick, because Virgil has long-ass legs. It was a few blocks away, not really a terrible walk. Roman hated being up this early, though. He and Virgil didn’t even sign to each other. Roman was pretty sure Virgil would also give anything right now to go back to bed, just based on his glower and the way he kept seeming to lose focus. Roman wasn’t doing any better. Roman kept yawning and accidentally tripping on uneven parts of the sidewalk. Virgil didn’t even make fun of him. Roman hadn’t known him that long, but Virgil never missed an opportunity to until now. Mondays, maybe. Or just mornings. Roman wasn’t sure it mattered. Maybe Virgil was mad at having to show Roman the way to campus early. He didn’t seem to care when Thomas asked him to, though. But Roman didn’t have the best read on him. The parts of the night he managed to sleep he had his patented nightmares again, so it just a step above complete insomnia. When they got to campus, Virgil quickly veered off down a hall without waving bye as Roman headed to the front office. The exhausted-looking administrative personal looked up when he stepped in. “Um, Roman Reinhart?” Roman said warily. “On the right, first door on the left. Councilor's office,” She said, pointing behind her to the hall on the right, not looking away from her computer screen. Roman nodded and shuffled quickly down the hall, peeking through the cracked open door. “Oh, Mr. Reinhart?” The man at the desk asked. Roman nodded and stepped in. “Alright, we’ve just put you in the core classes that we had spots left in based on the transcript from your last school. You just have to pick your electives. You can keep taking art if you like, there’s room in the class. This school doesn’t have Latin, so you can’t keep taking that one. There’s no room in Spanish II this semester year, but you can take it next year. You only need two language credits to graduate. Colleges like a balanced transcript, so trying something new wouldn’t be a bad idea. Pick two,” The councilor handed Roman a piece of paper with the remaining available electives. Roman just stared at them, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what he was interested in and he wasn’t even sure he’d be here long. Roman looked up at the counselor, looking at him expectantly and somewhat annoyed. “Um, yeah, art, and uh, choir?” Roman said, picking the first thing that came to mind before the councilor got mad at him. The councilor took back the sheet and typed at his computer in silence while Roman sat there awkwardly. He probably thought of choir because of what Patton said. Maybe if Roman signed up for the stuff Patton wanted him to, he could… that was probably too much to hope. It was just a gut decision. But he could give it a shot. At least he could know if he liked choir or not before they kicked him out. It’s not like he was doing stellar in Latin. “Uh, I’d like to do cross-country, maybe? I’m sure I missed tryouts. How would I join?” Roman asked tentatively. “Ask the PE teacher after class. You’ve got PE just before lunch, so you should have plenty of time to get it sorted out,” He said, continuing to work on his computer. After a few more uncomfortable moments, the ancient printer finally spewed out a class schedule. “Here you go, kid. Maps and school calendar are on the wall in the front office. You’ve got about a couple minutes until the first warning bell goes off, so try to familiarize yourself with the map. You’ve got 8 minutes between classes to get where you need to go. Here’s your locker assignment. There’s no room in the sophomore locker hall so you’re with the junior lockers on the second floor,” He handed Roman a little slip of paper with a combination on it and the locker number. “The teachers should already know to expect you, except for in art and choir. If you just ask them your seating assignment before the bell goes off and you should be golden,” Roman nodded and stepped back out of the office to grab the map off the wall and start trying to navigate this monster of a school. — Roman sighed and picked at his school lunch as he sat alone at the edge of the cafeteria. He’d met some nice people in his morning English class, but they didn’t share his lunch period. Roman wouldn’t mind eating alone so much if it didn’t look like he was literally the only person doing it. He’d done this a million times before, so he knew he’d eventually find a friend group to tolerate him. But the first few weeks always sucked. And the food sucks. This breadtangle of pizza was soggy and gross, and what even was on these green beans? Why were they slimy? The texture of everything was pretty disgusting. He’ll need to ask Virgil what’s edible here before lunch tomorrow. The PE teacher told Roman to come after school to practice to try out, and Roman kind of looked forward to that. They didn’t meet every day and the PE teacher said anyone who could run under an eight-minute mile could join. Roman had never timed himself before, but he was pretty certain he could do that. It would be nice to do something he was okay at for a change instead of always fucking up. He was still nervous about choir later this afternoon, but he knew he could run. You don’t have to try out for choir or anything, but he still didn’t want to find out he was a bad singer. It was probably a poor decision. Stupid impulsiveness. Roman’s stomach turned as he forced down the food. It was vile, completely, and the texture was a nightmare that made his skin crawl, but he couldn’t throw it out and waste food. He still had some free time before the next bell, so he went to go sit outside. He needed some fresh air for the nausea from lunch. The cafeteria was really loud, and it was wearing on him, too. Roman sat back under a tree in some weird wood chip garden and took a deep breath of the autumn air. It was at least a good thing it wasn’t too far into the semester so he could catch up easier. But he will have an unbearable amount of homework this week. Roman leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to get a brief rest before lunch was over. — Roman stretched out nervously. He was in kind of tight jeans and not exactly prepared for this, but he was just supposed to run with the others, keep in his lane, and clear 8 minutes, and then the PE teacher would make her decision. The regular-track kids were also here, and they were staggering start times to share the space. Roman watched football practice on the field while the track kids started off. He took a deep breath and joined the cross-country kids as the starting lines, waiting for the teacher’s whistle to take off. Roman started running at the whistle, and some kids took off much faster than him, but Roman didn’t want to tear these pants. They were possibly just trying to show off, because they slowed down as the group turned the corner, and Roman pulled ahead with a smirk. He got a glower from one of the ones he passed, but the other held up his thumbs and looked pretty excited. As he turned the final corner, Roman ran faster to try to make sure he stayed under 8 minutes. Another two kids beat him to the finish line, but the exact middle of the pack was a good sign. “Roman! 5:48!” The PE teacher called, walking up to him while he caught his breath at the edge of the track. “What, really?” Roman smiled. He probably could keep going, too. “You’re welcome to join if you’d like,” She said, sounding excited. “That’s an impressive time for a newbie,” “I, yeah, yes,” Roman stammered. “Well, go ahead and queue up with the same pack to run it again slower, and come to my office after practice so we can get the paperwork. You need parents’ permission to join so I’ll need you to bring back a signed form. You can drop it off during PE tomorrow or the next meet on Wednesday,” She said and Roman nodded excitedly and walked over with the pack. “Hey, congratulations, dude!” One of them smiled. “I’m Toby,” He drank some water. Roman didn’t have the forethought to bring water out and felt like a thirsty idiot. “Roman,” He smiled brightly. “You’ve got pretty good form, did you run at another school?” Another boy asked. “Seth’s the name,” “No, just a, uh, hobbyist,” Roman said as dismissively as he could manage. “I can tell from the fact you’re wearing jeans,” Another boy scoffed. “I didn’t expect to be able to try out as soon as I asked,” Roman rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should worry how fast I’d go with practice,” Roman smirked. Seth and Toby laughed. “Yeah, chill out, Nolan. Roman’s new,” Toby said, patting him on the back. “Ugh, whatever,” Nolan rolled his eyes and started stretching out again. “That’s Augustine, call her Aggie or she’ll tackle you. The last one is Julie. She thinks she’s better than all of us so don’t bother talking to her,” Seth, Toby, and Aggie laughed and Julie scoffed. “I am better than all of you,” Julie flipped him off quickly and went back to stretching. “So why’d you pick cross-country over track?” Seth asked. “Tracks get boring. I’m an urban runner if anything,” Roman shrugged. “Same. We practice on a track pretty often and I get sick of it quick. Other than running around campus, they bus us out to a hiking trail or send us back to the obstacle course sometimes, unlike track, though,” Seth shrugged. “An obstacle course?” Roman’s face lit up. “Yeah, dude, it’s pretty cool. It’s splinter city, but it’s a pretty big course. Some other schools in the district even come out here to use it,” Seth smiled. “We have a friendly competition about obstacle course times if you’re interested,” Nolan smirked mischievously. “He’s literally never run it before, it’s not fair to him,” Toby rolled his eyes. “No, I’m interested,” Roman said, eying Nolan suspiciously. “It’s nothing major. Loser accepts any dare the winner chooses,” Nolan said with a small shrug. “Shit, dude, that’s fine by me,” Roman laughed. He’d probably do any dare he was given anyway, he had shit impulse control and was very aware of that fact. “Cool,” Toby laughed, and they walked to the track to wait for their start again. — Roman’s mouth was dry as hell by the time he got back to Thomas and Patton’s house. He chugged some very metallic water from the fountain after practice, but he had that whole paperwork thing, and then jogging back defeated him. Lita barked excitedly as Roman came in. Roman bent down to scratch her head and made a bee-line to the kitchen to chug some water. “Roman? Is that you?” Thomas called. “Mm-hmm,” Roman grunted between gulps of water. “I was surprised not to see you come in with Virgil,” Thomas said, walking into the kitchen. “Patton told me I should try out for cross-country or something,” Roman said, pouring another cup of water. “Oh, did you?” Thomas asked curiously. “Yeah,” Roman breathed. “I don’t want to bother you or anything but there’s stupid stuff to sign so I can join,” Roman kicked his foot lightly into the tile. “Oh, you passed the tryouts?” Thomas beamed. “Congratulations! I’m happy to sign a permission slip. Oh, we should probably get you some running gear. Did you really run in those jeans? I’m surprised they didn’t rip,” Thomas asked, sounding concerned. “It was kind of a last-minute decision,” Roman huffed. “I don’t need anything,” Roman rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Roman, half your clothes barely fit you from what I’ve seen,” Thomas said critically. “I had a growth spurt at 14 and I probably will again soon,” Roman said dismissively, backing up a bit. “That doesn’t mean we have to wait until your clothes don’t fit at all,” Thomas frowned. “Virgil, back me up here,” He asked Virgil as he walked past them to the fridge. ‘About what?’ Virgil signed. ‘That Roman is an idiot?’ Roman rolled his eyes. “I don’t think he was listening,” Roman took another drink of water. “That Roman doesn’t need to wear clothes until he explodes out of them like the hulk,” Thomas said emphatically. ‘That’d be cool to see, can you do that?’ Virgil signed, and Roman laughed. “He’s not backing me up, is he?” Thomas huffed. Virgil saluted them and left the kitchen with a drink and chewing on something from the fridge. “I think he’s on his own team,” Roman chuckled. “You just got me some clothes, it’s fine,” “We got you two outfits worth, Roman, and if I knew most of your shirts were nearly see-through, I would have pushed for more,” Thomas frowned. “I- I don’t…” Roman trailed off. “You don’t what?” Thomas asked, leaning against the counter and looking at Roman in a way that just unnerved him. “I didn’t… I don’t,” Roman stammered and drank his water nervously. He couldn’t say it. He left the kitchen. Thomas doesn’t want to hear it. “Roman?” Thomas asked, following him. Roman headed upstairs and closed himself in his room. Thomas didn’t follow, luckily. Roman didn’t want to disappoint him again. He thought running would be free and just need to bother them one time. He didn’t realize the clothes were such a big deal. Roman leaned against the door and dropped his backpack on the floor next to him. He slightly pulled his hair as he ran his hands through it. Roman slid down against the door and held his knees close to his chest. He didn’t have to join cross country. He could probably still back out. The sheet isn’t signed or anything. He wanted to make Patton happy, but Roman was used to being a disappointment. It was better than being a burden. Roman sighed and got up, picking up his backpack and dragging it to the desk. He had a shit-ton of homework to do and didn’t have time to mope. — “Want to help us pick what to make for dinner?” Patton asked through the door after a quick knock. Roman rubbed his eyes, uncrossing them after looking up from his textbook. “Too much homework. I’m fine with whatever,” Roman called back and glanced back down at his textbook. He fought the urge to just bash his head into it to try to force it into his brain physically. “Maybe you should take a break, kiddo,” Patton replied. Roman managed to bite his tongue before he said he was fine again, but he did literally bite his tongue and it kind of hurt. He held open his mouth and felt it pulse slightly, but it didn’t taste like it was bleeding. “Roman?” “Ah bit mah tongue,” Roman tried to reply. “Sorree,” “Is it bleeding?” Patton asked with concern through the door. “Nah, jus’ hur’,” Roman said and took a big drink of water. “Is good,” “Can I get you some ice water for it?” Patton asked. “No, is already fadin’,” Roman said and took another drink. “Okay. I’ll come get you for dinner, then. Let us know if you need help with your homework,” Patton said. “Kay,” Roman called back and rubbed his eyes again before getting back to catching up to the classwork. Why can’t teachers all use the same syllabus so Roman doesn’t have to do this all the time? Roman sighed. His eyes hurt from reading all this shit. Packets at least are the easiest way to do classwork and some of his teachers game him some. It’s like a scavenger hunt for answers in the textbook. What he wouldn’t give for some skittles right now, though. He was running out of steam. He was just going to finish this page and take a break. There was no way he could finish all this tonight, anyway. Roman came down the stairs and waved awkwardly to Thomas as Roman passed his office. Thomas didn’t notice him, though. He headed into the kitchen, instead. “Hey, are you okay if I take Lita on a quick run?” Roman said, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge. “Go ahead, kiddo. Sounds like a nice break,” Patton said, stirring something savory smelling on the stove. Lita was wagging her tail brightly at Roman’s feet and made a very cute noise when Roman reached for the leash on the hook. “Who’s a marvelous girl,” Roman cooed and scratched behind her ear before hooking up her leash. “See ya,” He waved to Patton before being nearly yanked out of the house by Lita. Running in the cool evening air was much nicer than any other time of day. Lita was boisterously bolting as fast as Roman would let her go as usual. She stopped at the same stop sign and fire hydrant again. Dogs really were creatures of habit. Humans, too, probably. Roman kind of wished he had that kind of stability to get habits. He got a cute photo of her hopped up on a rock and barking at a squirrel up in the tree that threw something at her. She growled and Roman gave her leash a few gentle tugs and she jumped off and walked away from the squirrel angrily. They settled back into a run after she was done fuming about the squirrel’s audacity. Which was very funny and lifted Roman’s mood a bit. The run helped clear his head, though not much. He probably should have thought to try running for fun instead of for work before. It was nicer than just working out in his room. Having a dog to run with was likely what made this nice, though. They turned the corner and Roman pushed himself to sprint as fast as possible to squeeze that last bit of run out of Lita. She raced excitedly up to the door, panting happily as she came inside. She trotted happily to the kitchen to get some water, and Roman followed. “We’re back,” Roman said to Patton as he passed to the fridge for more cold water. “Hey, there, kiddo! Did you have a nice run?” Patton smiled. “Yeah, weather is nice outside right now,” Roman said and enjoyed some water. “Check out this photo I got of Lita yelling at a squirrel for throwing an acorn or something at her,” Roman said and pulled up the photo on his phone. “Oh!” Patton cooed. “She’s got such an angry little face!” Patton squatted down to pet Lita. “Did that mean old squirrel assault you?” He rubbed her head and neck between both hands and Lita wagged her tail in a wide arc and licked his hand. Patton got up to wash his hands with a smile. “Send me that, wouldja?” “Oh, sure,” Roman shrugged and sent it to Patton, then washed his hands right after him. “Do you need any help with dinner?” “Nah, I’ve got it,” Patton shook his head and went back to cooking. “Um, let me know if you do,” Roman mumbled and left the kitchen. He really didn’t want to go back to homework just yet. Dinner smelled good, and he was feeling lazy. Roman flopped down on the couch with the family laptop, opting for Minecraft. He probably didn’t have enough time to play the adventure game for long, but he could play creative mode for a bit. Virgil came downstairs while Roman was working on his mansion behind a waterfall and leaned forward on the couch, watching Roman build as he laid across the couch with the laptop. “You need the laptop or something?” Roman asked, trying to turn his head to see the answer. Virgil stuck his arm out to sign ‘no’ almost like a hand puppet. Roman shrugged and went back to placing the carpet pattern. Virgil stayed and watched, which was unexpected. Mostly because Virgil was willingly standing within three feet of Roman. He’d probably bolt if Roman made any sudden moves. Roman would, at least. Roman gave him a confused look, but he just shrugged in response. Virgil just watched quietly as Roman kept placing blocks. Roman was putting vines on some marble pillars when Patton interrupted him. “Dinner’s ready,” Patton called from the kitchen. Roman saved and quit while Virgil headed into the kitchen. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Roman put the laptop back on the side table and went to go eat dinner.

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #ayri writes #dreaming while I wake

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dyscrasia-eucrasia · 4 years

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Part 26

"So what do you do if someone sees you out in a national park?" Angel asked as he turned onto the road at a wooden sign that ready 'Wayne National Forest'.

"Tell people that we're doing a photoshoot," Demie replied. "Doing that thing those hardcore nerds do when they dress up like anime characters and run around."

"You mean cosplay?"

"Yeah, that. Just lie and say I'm playing that guy in the Chronicles of Narnia."

"Oh, that's right! There was a goat dude in that movie, I totally forgot. God, James McAvoy was so gorgeous in that role."

"He did alright, I guess," Demie mumbled. "That movie was so fucking Jesus-y for having so much pagan shit in it."

"Wait, really? What part of it was Jesus-y?"

"The whole lion sacrificing himself for the little girls and then coming back to life. Which, again, Christians stole from the Greeks. We did the whole god dying and coming back thing first."

"Really? I didn't know that about Greek mythology - which god?"

"My god. Dionysus. That's the whole reason we worship him, him and Orpheus are the only two people to go to Hades and come back. He represents rebirth."

"I had no idea," Angel said as they pulled up to a small dirt parking lot. "That's so cool."

Demie cringed as he looked out the car window. He should've told Angel to go further into the park. There was one other vehicle already parked there, a large black SUV.

"We can turn around and go back," Angel said, and Demie kind of wanted to punch him for it. He'd been so nice and understanding the entire day, even though this was most definitely a waste of time and gas, not to mention the money that went towards the festival tickets. He wished Angel would get angry, or at least annoyed. As it was, Demie just felt like even more of a selfish prick.

"No, it's fine, let's do this," Demie said, opening the car door and stepping out before he could change his mind. Angel quickly followed suit.

A trailhead marker denoted the path that spread out from the lot as Symmes Creek trail.

"You know this trail?" Angel asked.

"Yeah," Demie replied. He'd done it once with a few cousins, as a backpacking trip. Well, as close to backpacking as they got with their limited equipment. It had been a two-day trip, though, and they had hiked at night and slept during the day to avoid detection.

With his cousins, that felt natural and freeing, a way of really getting back to nature. But that didn't sound like something Angel would be up to. Not to mention they didn't have food or even water.

"We'll just go a little ways down the trail," Demie said.

"Whatever you want, man," Angel replied, putting his hands in his pockets and following after Demie as he made his way to the trail.

Having lived around forests his entire life, Demie didn't particularly understand the appeal of national forests, outside of the need to protect wildlife from the encroachment of human cities. That said, Wayne was a little different from the forest he lived in. There were different plants, more wild animals, lots of cool old bridges and rock formations. Everything was lush and green and when he listened really closely, Demie thought he could hear rushing water far off.

They walked in silence for a while, which Demie appreciated. After all that singing in the car without any vocal warm-ups, his voice was weaker. Not to mention, he'd had to exert extreme amounts of self control to hold himself back and keep from letting Angel get taken over by the Frenzy.

He realized he'd probably have to tell Angel about that sooner or later. He couldn't keep him in the dark forever. At this point, he was pretty sure that Angel was his friend voluntarily, but bringing him into the loop may very well help him resist the Frenzy in the future.

Not that Angel necessarily needed to resist it. Demie actually felt like Angel could stand to cut loose a little. He just seemed so… perfect. He was ripped, he had a nice car, he had incredibly straight and white teeth, all of his clothes looked good (even if he did seem to only wear shirts that were a size too small and which strained against his biceps).

It was so perfect that it seemed a little fake, all except for those times he'd called crying. He hadn't been trying to make himself seem cool then, and Demie had… well, 'liked' wasn't the right word, but he'd appreciated it. He didn't think men should cry, but when Angel cried, he was showing an unfiltered version of himself. That was the version of Angel that Demie wanted to be friends with, not the endlessly patient one that kept telling him that they could turn around if he was uncomfortable.

They came across an old stone bridge, and Demie lifted his camera to take a snapshot. Angel apparently hadn't noticed, because he walked right into frame before spotting the camera.

"Oops," he said, stepping back a few feet. "Sorry, don't wanna ruin your shot."

"It's cool," Demie said, taking a photo without any people in it. The camera spit out the photo and he waved it gently and watched it develop.

"Hey," Angel said, but stopped.

"Hay's for horses," Demie muttered. Angel snorted, and the edges of Demie's mouth ticked upwards.

"Hey, so, can I take a picture of you?" Angel asked.

Demie looked over his shoulder at him, the small smile on his face quickly turning into a frown.

"Not, like, with my phone," Angel continued. "But with your camera. You can keep the photo, I just… it would be cool, I think."

"Um…" Demie looked down at his camera, thinking it over. He had virtually no photographs of himself. He had plenty of Elaine and Marius, but he was always the one behind the camera, never in front of it.

Yet Angel had already taken a picture of him that day. And had saved it. Demie didn't particularly feel like he had anything to worry about - he didn't feel like Angel was going to go showing that photo off. It was a friends photo. It had felt private.

"Yeah, sure," Demie said, handing the camera to Angel.

Angel took a few steps back, lifting the camera, but not looking in the viewfinder yet.

"Go, like… stand on the bridge," Angel said.

Demie stepped over onto the bridge, turning back to look at Angel. He lifted his hands slightly and then let them fall to his sides. "Like this?" He asked.

"Yeah, but like… maybe pose somehow? Like… you think you could climb up on the rail and crouch down?"

Demie did as he was asked, stepping up onto the raised stone sides of the bridge and crouching, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Hm…" Angel lowered the camera to tap his lips with his fingers. "Would you be willing to take your shirt off?"

"Why?" Demie asked, furrowing his brow. That sounded kinda gay to him.

"I promise it's not for, like, spank bank material," Angel said, as though he were reading Demie's mind. "I just think that, like… a satyr in nature, it would make the photo cooler if you weren't wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt. It would look more timeless, y'know?"

Demie frowned. It didn't feel like Angel was trying to pull something, but at the same time he was a little surprised at essentially being directed for a photo. Photos were snapshots of memories to him - to be posed made it feel less intimate.

Well, maybe that was okay. He wasn't sure if being super intimate with Angel was something he necessarily wanted.

He pulled his shirt over his head, taking care not to catch the stretched out neck hole on his horns. Once the shirt was off, he felt self-conscious. Nudity wasn't a big deal for him typically, but he couldn't help comparing himself to Angel. He'd never even seen Angel fully shirtless, but the glimpses he could see through the too-tight shirts showed a body that looked like it could be made of marble. By contrast, Demie was scrawny, built like a narrow rectangle, with gangly arms and a veritable carpet of chest and stomach hair.

"Catch," he said, tossing the shirt towards Angel. Angel managed to grab it one-handed right before it hit the ground.

"Okay, ready?" Angel said, draping the shirt over one shoulder and lifting the camera to his face.

"Yeah, sure," Demie said.

"Say 'cheese!'" Angel said. Demie didn't change his facial expression at all.

The shutter clicked and after a moment the camera spit out the photo. Demie got down from the rail and walked back over to Angel, who was rapidly shaking the photo.

"Don't shake it that much," Demie said. "You'll mess up the development."

"Oh." Angel held the photo still, holding it out so Demie could watch as it developed.

Demie had to admit, it was a good photo. Angel had a good eye, framing Demie in the lower right of the photo and capturing the empty wash and trees behind him. Something about it did, indeed, feel timeless.

"Here," Angel said, offering both the shirt and photo to Demie. Demie just took the shirt.

"You can keep it," he said, nodding towards the photo. He trusted Angel.

#writing #writers on tumblr #original fiction #gay fiction #lgbt fiction #mlm fiction #wright's writing #w:demie and angel

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