#point being - a brief break in The Horrors for Snack Excitement :)

[thefanficmonster]

Time And Time Again

Dream x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Romance, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Basically a rundown of some of the most recent cute moments brought to you by the most adorable will-they-won’t-they couple: Y/N and Dream.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, it really made my day when I received it! I hope I captured what you wanted and what you had in mind in the fic and I hope you enjoy the read! This is my first time writing for Dream so I hope I don’t mess it up hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“I don’t wanna go in the cave!“ Y/N squeals in terror when she realizes that in order to make progress in the game and continue moving onward with the story, she has to walk Blake through the dark, dingy and danger-ridden cave in Outlast 2. The gang’s all there with her on a Discord call to keep her company, knowing she’s a scaredy cat underneath that tough girl exterior. And being the scaredy cat she is while also having a preference for horror games has made Friday nights very interesting for her and her friends: her, Clay, George and Sapnap sit on a Discord server while she streams whatever horror game she had planned for the evening to her close to her thousands of viewers. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll come with you, imma hold your hand the whole time.“ Clay volunteers wholeheartedly without a second to waste.

Much to his disappointment, however, Y/N’s reply to that is: “Not until you go wash off all that cheeto dust that’s all over your fingers.“

Clay gasps dramatically, “How DARE you? I offer you help and comfort and this is the thanks I get? I hope one of those heretics in teaches you a lesson!”

While the pair are now in a full-on ‘heated’ dispute on their manners and politeness, bringing back things they did wrong as far back as three years ago, George and Sapnap are just connecting the dots silently.

“Wait, Y/N...“ George is the one to finally speak up, “How’d you know he’s eating cheetos?”

Taking a momentary break from the bickering, Y/N reassumes her more sweet tone of voice as he addresses him, “He freaking raided my cabinets and has eaten all my snacks already! He’s only been here for two hours, damn it!”

“Don’t make it sound like I inhaled a mountain of snacks in two hours! You literally had only two bags of snacks - meant for one person, mind you!“ Clay argues back, neither him nor Y/N realizing that this accidental outing will send their fandoms in a fit.

Of course, people hang out at their friends’ all the time, nothing weird there. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal to anyone if Sapnap didn’t say:

“How come Clay has the privilege of coming over to place and George and I don’t?“

Oh boy...

                                                             *  *  *

“Hi everyone! I know you guys couldn’t care less for an intro so Imma get right into it...“ Y/N says, all seemingly in one breath, “You see this masked man next to me? This tree of a man right here? Yes? Good, well judging by that poorly made cardboard mask he’s wearing - curtsey of yours truly - you probably already know who he is. If not, meet Dream, aka Clay, aka the raincloud above my parade.“

That specific laugh echoes throughout the room as the said tree-of-a-man wraps an arm around the significantly smaller girl’s shoulders, pulling her closer till their sides collide, “She loves me, trust me, she does.”

“Only when you bring me food though.“ She corrects him, wiggling his shoulders to see if she could set herself free from his grip but relaxing in his embrace when she realizes she won’t be going anywhere unless he willingly lets her go.

Clay tilts his head to the side to look at her through the holes poked into the mask before lifting his free arm to reveal the plastic bag he’s been holding all this time. “Oh, well then I wonder what I’ve got over here...”

“Oh my God, Panda Express! You’re the best, Clay.“ She squeals, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him down while she simultaneously pushes up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek which is a tiny bit exposed to her between the mask and the hood he’s got over his head.

Before the man could even recover, he finds himself empty handed, having lost the girl and having lost the bag of food to the girl.

That kiss was worth it though.

                                                             *  *  *

“Ok, so I’ve seen this ‘my girlfriend does my makeup’ challenge going around and since I’m single as all hell, I got my best friend Y/N here to do my makeup.“ Clay points to Y/N who’s holding a makeup bag in one hand and is giving him a very disappointed look, “Judging by the look on her face, she’s not at all impressed but I promise to make her a bit more excited to be here in editing.“

“Of course I’m unimpressed, this is the troll video of troll videos!“ She complains, throwing her arms up, “Sure I’ll do your makeup and get a kick out of it myself but none of them will see it!“ She points to the camera, “None of them will know what amazing makeup artist skills I’ve got.“

This leaves Clay speechless for a moment, uncertain of how to reply to her statement before just deciding to say: “Well, at least you’ll be getting a kick out of it, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww...“ Y/N bats her eyelashes at the camera as her bottom lip forms an emotional pout, “Please don’t be so sweet to me after I just verbally kicked your ass. You always do that and make me feel like the meanest person in the world.“

“Aww Y/N, I’m so sorry.“ He says, sounding genuinely apologetic as he wraps his arms around the girl that’s tiny in comparison to him, bringing her closer to him with his tight hug.

“YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN!“

                                                             *  *  *

“Hey Clay, I bought lunch on the way so I hope you’re-” Walking into her friend’s recording room abruptly, Y/N finds herself face to face with his webcam, the light next to which is glowing, suggesting the device is on and she’s currently on the screens of the thousands of people watching Dream’s stream. His mask is on - the one she made for him - of course, but she can still feel the aura of him smiling, relieving her of the worry that he’ll be irritated by her walking in like that - unannounced and without knocking. To be fair, they never announced to one another when they’d be stopping by and by this point in their friendship they have also stopped knocking too. “You’re streaming, huh?”

“Yup!“ The word is said in such a teasing manner she almost allows herself to blush, “What you got there tho?“

“Chipotle.“ She answers shortly, “And I’m starving so can we please turn your stream into a Mukbang?“ She furrows her brows as she inspects what’s on his computer screen, looking at a comment section instead of the usual screen of a game she’s used to seeing. “What are you doing, anyway?“

Looking back at his screen for a brief moment before turning back to her, Clay replies, “Oh, just reading mean comments, as one does to boost their self-esteem.”

The flash of anger he sees on Y/N’s face is most certainly not what he was inspecting to see. Mockery, yes. Humor, yes. Faux sympathy followed by some mean comments of her own, definitely. But he anger he did not see coming at all.

“Who’s talking shit about you? I’ll end them!“ Putting the plastic bag of delicious food aside, forgetting all about it in the process, Y/N grabs a chair and drags it over next to Clay’s so she too can look at his screen.

And that boy has never felt so much adoration for his best friend. Their fans - and especially their shippers - would’ve lost it if they had been able to see the look he was giving her.

                                                             *  *  *

(back to the ‘girlfriend/best friend does my makeup vid’)

“Ok, so what kind of look do you want me to give you?“ Y/N asks as she sits down on the stool in front of Clay, her makeup products placed on the dining table which is to her right.

“You ask me as though I know what I want.“ Clay laughs, the sticker of his mask floating above his face, following his movements as to keep his features hidden, “Just do the look you do on yourself everyday. It looks really cute on you, who knows, I might be able to pull it off too.“

“Sure thing.“ She smiles at her friend’s compliment, “Just stand still, ok?“

“Yes, ma’am.“

                                                            *  *  *

“Y/N, no! Stop!“ Clay warns her via the Discord call while the two are streaming Minecraft together alone for once, “Not another word!“

“But I really do feel bad!“ Y/N whines in response, “Why don’t you allow me to apologize?“

“Because there’s nothing to apologize for!“ He says, clearly done with the conversation, “I willingly gave you my jacket, you didn’t ask for it.“

“And now you’ve got a cold because of it!“ She continues arguing her case, “The least I can do is come over to take care of you.“

“I don’t need a pity nurse, thank you very much.“ Clay bites back, “But your company would be nice. Though I don’t want you to catch whatever cold I have.“

“I’d catch any cold for you, Clay.“ She replies teasingly - with a ton of honesty underneath that teasing.

Honesty both her and Clay are aware of. As well as the mob of people watching their streams right now.

                                                             ~  ~  ~ And so the snowball effect continues with little moments sprinkled throughout their online presences that make the snowball of shipping get bigger and bigger. Every now and then, both Y/N and Clay let little bits of their true adoration and admiration for the other slip through. And time and time again do those moments send their fans in a frenzy. 

Rightfully so.

@kia-isabelle

#dream #dream fandom #dream fanfic #dream fanfiction #dream imagine #dream x fem!reader #dream x you #dream fluff #dream x y/n #dream oneshot #clay #dream smp #georgenotfound #sapnap #dreamwasfound #dreamwastaken #clay x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #smp #fluff #friends to lovers #request #requests open #x reader #reader

[sylvies-chen]

Taking a nap together on the couch + Brettsey

They don't really intentionally keep their relationship secret from the house and yet somehow, it manages to get out in the most awkward way possible.

She's in the break room while on shift. It's starting to get late, the sky outside turning from deep blue to pitch black as they relish in their free time between calls. Stella rifles for a late night snack in the fridge, Gallo and Ritter play a game of cards (too tired for their usual bickering too, which Sylvie's grateful for), Herrmann and Mouch are in the brief room using the spare time to go over some finances for Molly's. The Squad guys are out at their table on the app floor which just leaves Violet scrolling through her phone at the table. It's one of those wonderfully mundane and quiet moments, the ones that occur rarely in their line of work but never go unappreciated. Which means Sylvie doesn't waste a second before sitting herself in front of the TV and re-watching some good old fashioned House Hunters.

"Mind if I join you?" She hears Matt's voice coming from next to her and her head whips around to meet his eye.

"Hey," she beams. "I thought you'd be in your office."

"Nah, the paperwork was getting boring so I thought I'd see what you were up to," he shrugs.

"Well please, have a seat."

He sits next to her and looks over his shoulder. No one's paying attention, too tired or too caught up in their own lives to care, so Matt risks it and slings his arm over her shoulders, his elbow resting on the back of the couch as his hand rubs circles on her far shoulder. They don't normally do public displays of affection in the common room but no one's really paying attention anyway so Sylvie lets her heart race, doesn't bother fighting the giddy smile that spreads across her face.

"They're going to see," Sylvie points out quietly.

"It's not like we're trying to keep this a secret, right? If they find out, they find out."

"Fair," she shrugs, because she can't argue with that logic. They hadn't exactly wanted to make a big deal out of announcing it but they didn't want to sneak around either so they'd agreed to take a more laissez-faire approach. Let things happen naturally, she'd suggested. So she gnaws at her lip, leans her head on Matt's shoulder and sighs happily.

"A late-night House Hunters binge?" Matt asks. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Predictability never killed anyone," she argues. "Besides, I'm too tired to focus on anything new right now. I just need something easy, something fun."

"It has been a pretty exhausting shift so far," he agrees. "I'm surprised we've had so much quiet time tonight. But if you're tired then maybe you should go to the bunk room, get some shut-eye."

"No, no way," she insists, stifling a yawn. "We're just getting to the good part. Look! They're just about to do the dream home reveal to this sweet married couple."

She shifts her head, burying it further into Matt's shoulder as she makes herself comfortable. Matt keeps rubbing circles on her arm briefly before his hand moves to pull her in closer and then grab her hand. Their fingers gently intertwine, gripped together as loosely as possible. It's so warm and comforting and a wave of fatigue washes over her. Suddenly, it registers to her how late it is. The TV in front of her starts to look blurry and she's snuggling in so close to Matt's side that they start to slant so everything looks crooked. She gives her head a gentle shake to try and keep herself awake but it's useless. Her body is finally caving to the fatigue. She feels Matt's breathing slow down as the rise and fall of his chest against her cheek becomes gentler, and thinks he's getting pretty tired himself.

Man, she's really tired. Maybe they should both get some shut-eye, if only for a five minutes. Yeah, only five minutes...

The sound that wakes her up isn't the same raspy voice of her boyfriend she finds herself next to most mornings. Instead, it's an abrupt clearing of a throat. Her eyes squeeze further shut for a second, registering the sound with confusion before opening them slowly. Everything still looks really blurry, and she can't make out her surroundings.

The first thing Sylvie notices is that she's completely horizontal. Like, her whole body-- and Matt's-- is stretched out across the couch. That, she certainly didn't intend to do. The second thing she notices is the TV that's still running but blocked by a figure. It's the source of the throat-clearing, she thinks. After she nuzzles her in Matt's chest to wake him up too, she rubs at her eyes to clear her vision and attempts to sit somewhat upright without pushing Matt right off the couch. Matt groans next to her but slowly wakes up too, sitting up and giving more space to do the same. When they both do though, horror and shock strikes over their faces.

Mouch stands in front of them, Herrmann off to the side but still watching with an amused grin on his face. Sylvie feels her eyes widen like a deer in headlights and her muscles completely freeze up. Suddenly, she's very awake.

Because things can never go completely smoothly for Sylvie, can they?

"You two are in my spot," Mouch points out after a while, pointing to the end of the couch where his pillow is being covered by hers and Matt's feet.

She blushes, looks over to Matt and sees that his cheeks are redder than hers, and winces awkwardly. "Right, sorry," she offers meekly, her hand resting on Matt's shoulder as they both sit up and shift to the other end of the couch.

Her hand instinctually finds Matt's and their fingers interlock, more firmly this time. They give each other a glance as if to say shit, did this really just happen? Then their eyes turn to Mouch, who's now sitting next to them, and to Herrmann who's still standing next to the glowing TV.

"You two are together?" Mouch asks as he settles into his usual spot.

"Yeah," Matt admits.

"Good for you guys," he nods casually. "Just don't nap in my spot next time. I get the temptation-- believe me, no one likes napping on the job more than Randy McHolland-- but the embroidered pillow is here for a reason."

The others are looking too, but are either giving small approving grins or just minding their business. Sylvie smiles a little, even fights back a laugh. Because of course the only thing Mouch is worried about is his spot. What else would it be? Her worries about the house finding out were useless and it's sort of hilarious.

"How long were we out?" Sylvie asks.

"Half an hour, give or take," Mouch responds.

Her eyes go wide for a second time. "And you didn't wake us?"

"Why would we? The bells didn't go off and you both looked so peaceful. It would have been like kicking a puppy," Herrmann argues.

"Ok that's it," she sighs, turning to Matt. "I'm never napping on the job again. Like, ever. Your chest is too comfortable, you know that?"

He furrows his brows and retracts his neck in confused skepticism. "So this is my fault now?" He asks teasingly.

"Yes, 100%," she confirms with a nod, saving face as she sticks her nose up in the air.

"Ah, welcome to the club, Casey," Herrmann says with a chuckle and a grin that looks a little too excited. "Get used to sleeping on couches."

"It's true," Mouch adds. "It's just like me and Trudy, and Herrmann and Cindy. Get used to it, pal. The woman will always be right. It'll always be your fault. There's no way out of it."

Sylvie doesn't know how they got from being chastised to being compared to two solid married couples, but it causes a flutter in her chest as Matt blushes and chuckles.

Who knows: maybe sleeping on the job isn't so bad, right?

#abby writes #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #fanfic #prompt requests #fanfic prompts

[writer-room]

Siblings: Chapter One

AO3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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

Dick always wondered what it’d be like to have a little brother or sister.

He recalled asking his parents why he didn’t have one. Not accusatory, just curious.

His mother had smiled and said that they had their hands full plenty with Dick, and he was all they needed. His father, while still kind, said that they didn’t really have the time or resources in the circus at the moment to add another child to the family.

Dick was disappointed, but he understood the reasons.

Even still, he’d find himself staring at the kids that watched the acts with awe. Older kids lighty taunted their younger siblings, ruffling their hair and pretending they were too good for it all, and that they were doing their siblings a favor by being there. Kids who nudged their brother or sister to distract and steal the snacks from concession stands, later whispering words that’d make the other gape or giggle. Young children holding their sibling who was of toddler age or younger, pointing towards parts of the acts, their glee growing upon seeing the excitement of their sibling.

Dick hadn’t been lonely growing up in Haly’s Circus, he had his parents and the other people who worked there, from the handlers to the clowns to the tricksters. 

And yet, he still found himself watching the kids who’d come in with one, or even two or three, brothers and sisters, taunting and laughing and sharing their wonder.

A sibling would’ve been nice, he thinks mournfully. It might’ve even been fun.

Ah, well. At least he had the circus.

,

“Hey, hey Dick. Dick. Dick, lookit.”

“If I turn around and I see you about to push Damian off the roof, I’m breaking your helmet.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Dick sighed, turning back from where he was keeping an eye on the streets below. Jason, who’d only been a few feet away, immediately took this moment to seize Tim, who had been too busy looking through his binoculars to care about whatever the two had been doing, and proceed to chuck him off the roof.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan as Tim’s undignified shriek was cut off by him catching himself on a fire escape below, scrambling to get a good hold on so he didn’t fall the rest of the way.

“What?” Jason huffed. “You said not to push Damian, and I didn’t push Damian.”

“Of course,” Dick replied sarcastically. “My mistake, I’ll be sure to rephrase it as don’t push anyone off the roof.”

“Now that’s just unreasonable,” Jason huffed, hand on his hip as Steph and Cass snickered from the nearby chimney they were perched on. “I can think of plenty of people who deserve to be pushed off roofs. Like Scarow, for example. Bastard made me break my good hand last month and I still need to shoot a bullet in his back for that one.”

“Then don’t push your family off roofs, is that enough for you?” Dick sighed, standing up and peering over the edge of the roof. “You alright down there, Tim?”

“Names,” Damian finally chastised, not once having glanced over to the others from where he was on the corner of the roof, farthest as he could get from them.

“Oh, sure, now you worry.” Tim grumbled from the fire escape, finally pulling himself to his feet and brushing himself off. “Dick, please tell me I have permission to stab out Jason’s eye.”

“You do not.”

“He’d be fine!” Tim complained, snagging a hand on the stairs and instead pulling himself up along the outside of the fire escape instead of walking up the steps like a normal human being. “Harper could probably make him a new functional one in two days if she's in a good mood.”

“I’m not making him a new eye in two days. Maybe two weeks.” Harper informed from the other side of the roof, also ignoring the others as she tinkered with some gadget.

“Get anywhere near me and I’ll cough on you,” Jason threatened, also peering down off the roof. “You have basically no immune system, you’d die in a week. A long, painful death. Poetic cinema, really.”

“If you say it's poetic because you were beaten with a crowbar for two hours, I’m dropkicking you.” Steph warned, eyes narrowed.

“You’re so mean to me,” Jason gasped, placing a hand on his chest as he turned. “What did I ever do to deserve this? I’m nice to you!”

“No, you’re not.” Chorused Dick, Tim, Damian, Steph, and an extra voice through their earpieces.

“Wow, thanks, Babs.” Jason grumbled. “Showing up just to bully me, typical.”

“Names,” Damian warned a second time.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Babs crackled through their earpieces. “You’re not the only one I bully.”

“Everyone please stop harassing Jay,” Dick pleaded, though it came out more as an exhausted sigh.

“Names,” Damian growled a third time, losing his patience.

“I know it's fun,” Dick continued, ignoring him. “But this is supposed to be a scouting mission, and I’d rather he didn’t start taking out petty revenge during patrol.”

“I have no idea why he’s so surprised we get bored when scouting,” Steph mumbled quietly, to which Cass simply shrugged.

“You have no faith in me,” Jason snorted, and Dick could tell he was rolling his eyes under his helmet.

“I have plenty of faith in you,” Dick soothed. “I also, however, know how you are.”

“Don’t worry,” Steph raised a hand. “I already lost faith in you when you tried to kill Tim.”

“Which time?”

“Steph, don’t taunt him. Do it back at the Manor.” Dick lightly scolded.

“How many times do I have to repeat this?” Damian snapped, whirling from his post to glare at the others. “We do not use names on patrol!”

“Doesn’t Jon call you D on patrol?” Harper raised a brow, glancing towards him.

“That is different! He does not use my actual name!”

“Hypocrite,” Jason coughed under his breath.

Tim finally swung back onto the roof, skillfully rolling and dodging when Jason attempted to immediately kick him off again. Tim rolled close to the chimney, quickly pulling out his bo staff and crouching, glaring at Jason. It was reminiscent of two cats in a standoff, arched backs but neither of them making the first strike yet.

“Do not fight,” Cass said calmly. 

“Thank you, C--” Dick hesitated, glancing at Damian for a brief moment. “--Orphan.”

“Fight in Cave,” Cass continued cheerfully. “We have sparring mats for reasons.”

“And I take that back.”

“You wanna hang with the cool kids?” Steph asked, leaning off the chimney to offer her hand.

“Yes. Have I mentioned you’re my favorite person?” Tim grinned, putting his staff away as he took the offered hand and was pulled onto the chimney beside Steph and Cass.

“You could stand to say it more often,” Steph teased.

“Cheaters,” Jason grumbled, relenting that fighting both Steph and Cass to get Tim was a losing battle.

The three were rather squished on the chimney, but none of them seemed to mind. Harper only rolled her eyes and went back to tinkering.

“We really need to bring D--Signal on one of these things.” Dick muttered, shaking his head.

“Because he’s sensible, or because you want him to suffer like the rest of us?” Tim raised a brow.

“Because he deserves the same family bonding time.” Dick said simply.

“Duke and Cullen are next to me listening in on this,” Barbara said through the communicators. “I am here to inform you that Duke is both touched and terrified.”

“The bumblebee was awake and didn’t even bother to join us?” Harper snorted. “Rude.”

“Cullen agrees with you.”

“He better,”

“I’m taking a ten hour nap after this,” Dick complained, sitting back on the edge of the roof, legs dangling in the open air as he leaned back dramatically on his hands. “I deserve it. Self-care and all that.”

“That is the length of a normal amount of sleep.” Damian raised a brow.

“Not in this family, it’s not.”

“Preach!” Tim pumped a fist.

“You don’t count, Tim.” Dick chastised, leaning his head back to look at Tim upside down. “Everyone here remembers to sleep at the latest once every two days. You don’t sleep for five.”

“I’m being harassed,”

“You’re being bullied into a proper sleep schedule.” 

Damian suddenly whacked Dick over the head, startling him with a yelp as Jason hid a snicker. Harper and Cass looked over for a moment before continuing with whatever they had previously been doing.

“Names!” Damian hissed. “Do you all want your identities revealed?”

“Literally nobody is here,” Harper pointed out.

“If Gotham hasn’t found out our identities by now, they never will.” Steph snorted.

“Especially finger-stripes over here.” Tim added, a smug expression on his face.

“A nine-year-old finds out your identity one time and you never hear the end of it.” Dick muttered under his breath before sitting up and proceeding to snatch Damian, who had been previously stalking towards the others, by wrapping an arm around his chest and tugging him closer as the boy squawked.

“You were using a Flying Grayson move, dude.” Tim deadpanned. “You gotta pay the price for being flashy for no other reason than because you can.”

“That’s his entire personality.”

“Why do you all hate me?” Dick whined, holding a squirming Damian close as he gave the boy a noogie. “What did I do to gain such torment?”

“You want the list?” Harper looked up, finally putting away whatever she was tinkering with.

“We alphabetized,” Cass added.

“Wrote on the front and back,” Steph nodded sagely.

“I’m adding three more to the list when we get back,” Damian growled, looking ready to bite Dick if he didn’t stop soon.

“You better be joking about that list,” Dick warned, releasing Damian for his own safety. “Because if I ever find a list of reasons to be mean to me, I will not show mercy.”

“Do you mean you’re gonna attack us physically or emotionally?” Jason inquired.

“Emotionally,”

“You sick bastard.” Steph whispered in horror. “I can’t believe you would use your powers for evil.”

“Does it make it any better if I tell you the list, if it does exist, would probably only exist so that when we notice someone looks like they’re gonna do something stupid, we use the list to remind them of something you did so they take it out on you and not, say, turn all of Gotham into a gang war zone.” Harper said slowly.

“I hate you,” Steph glared. “You mess up one time--”

“You died, Steph!” Tim exclaimed, before getting a batarang chucked at his head that Damian somehow snuck into his utility belt.

“She didn’t even die,” Jason snorted, crossing his arms. “Both of you two had lame fake-out deaths.”

“Why am I the one who’s become the punching bag?” Dick complained, holding Damian back again when he tried to grab the batarang Tim had dodged and threw it again.

“Because you’re actually good at feelings and everyone else is emotionally constipated.” Harper deadpanned.

“And the Ric incident.” Damian added right after, giving up in his thrashing. A shutter passed over the Bats at the mention of the name.

“Aw,” Dick’s face softened, ignoring the Ric comment. “You guys care about my advice?”

“Congrats,” Barbara chuckled slightly. “You’re the therapist brother.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Jason groaned, flopping backwards on the roof. “Now he’s going to be mushy and clingy all week.”

“Lord knows you idiots need it,” Harper huffed as Dick practically glowed.

“I’m sicing him on you later.”

“Jokes on you, he hasn’t found my apartment yet.”

“Yes I have,” Dick raised a hand, turning towards her. “Well, Robin found it, but I still know it.”

Harper stared at him for a few moments, momentarily turning her head to Damian for a moment before going back to Dick, and then turning to Jason.

“You’re a monster,” She whispered, a look of true horror on her face.

“I know,” Jason cackled gleefully.

“None of you are leaving the Manor when we get back.” Dick said matter-of-factly, pointing a finger to his siblings. “We’re gonna bond, and you’re going to like it.”

“We’re already bonding right now!” Damian protested.

“You’ll have to kill me first.” Steph hissed, shying behind Cass.

“Bold of you to assume you can keep me confined to the Manor.” Tim huffed in offence. “Orphan, I’ll stash you in one of my safe houses if you promise to be my bodyguard.”

“Deal,”

“You guys are so dramatic--”

“Hey, guys? Crazed pyromaniac with flamethrowers to the north.”

The group immediately dropped whatever they had been doing, heads snapping up towards the direction Barbara had tiredly informed them of the attack.

It was only a few moments before the sight of flames peaked over one of the buildings, dying out almost immediately. Shouts and rumbles were steadily growing in volume, especially the cackling of Firefly, likely revving up whatever weapon he’d acquired this time.

“Fantastic, can’t even keep watch with you morons.” Damian growled.

“Oh you are not the only one trying to work here!” Tim snapped. “Orphan, for example, is doing a wonderful--where’d she go?”

He and Steph looked around rapidly, their sister suddenly missing from the chimney. How they hadn’t noticed she’d left their crowded space was a mystery that’d likely never be solved.

“Over there,” Jason said boredly, upholstering a gun and pointing across the rooftops.

The outline of Cass’s body could be seen sprinting across the roofs towards where the fire had been spotted, leaping with reckless abandon.

“Life lesson for the rest of you,” Harper hummed, getting to her feet. “Be like Cass.”

“Stop using real names!” Damian barked.

“Last one there is on cleanup duty!” Steph hollered, shoving Tim and taking off in the same movement.

“Asshole!” Tim yelled as Jason, Harper and Damian all bolted after her without a moment's hesitation. 

Dick laughed, just getting to his feet as Tim stumbled up and after the others, swearing obscenities.

He quickly ran after his siblings, though he strayed a little further back, nobody paid attention to who showed up last anyway, his eyes darting from each of his siblings. Someone had to make sure they didn’t face-plant off a roof.

They shouted over each other as they descended down to take out Firefly. The guy had really picked a bad night to start causing trouble. It’d be over in no-time.

Even still, Dick paused on the roofs, scanning the streets below as the others ran to and fro, yelling over each other as Barbara switched between the coms to talk to them. It was a chaotic mess and Dick found himself grinning at it all.

His siblings were a hot mess, and it was amazing.

#dc #dc comics #dick grayson #batfam #batkids #nightwing #jason todd #barbara gordon #tim drake #damian wayne #harper row #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #brothers #siblings #my writing #writings #fics #ao3 #haly's circus #kid dick grayson

[wickedmilo]

LOVE LIKE THIS | MILO & METZLI

PLACE: Metzli’s Apartment TIMING: 8:20 PM SUMMARY: Grappling with his feelings of loneliness, Milo decides to confide in Metzli WRITING PARTNER: @deathisanartmetzli CONTENT WARNINGS: Addiction tw (brief mention of an intervention)

Milo was never sure how much blood Metzli kept in their apartment. And for numerous reasons, he felt it was better not to ask. Given their history together, Metzli might think he was being controlling, or refusing to trust them when it came to maintaining a healthy diet. But he also didn’t want to give the impression that he was eager to deplete their precious stash. It was why, as he knocked on the door to their apartment, he was grateful for his own stash, and the two blood bags he had slipped into his backpack before making the journey to see his friend. He still felt strange after their conversation. Even over text, being honest, and open could be emotionally draining. It was almost as though now that he had finally, in a way, said the words out loud, it was impossible to deny them. Impossible to ignore the aching in his heart, the longing for something that was so out of his reach. Rubbing at the marks on his throat, evidence of the trauma that was causing him so much turmoil, he did his best to repress his emotions. Metzli had invited him over to comfort him, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he needed to dwell on why. “Metzli- it’s me, I mean you already know it’s me. I don’t know why I said that. Just- open the door?” 

“Door’s unlocked!” Metzli yelled from the kitchen, finishing up making Yuca’s dinner. She was meowing in excitement, trotting around in circles as if to try and hurry their owner along. “If only you knew how spoiled you are, chiflada.” They smiled at her and led her into the living room where her food perch was. Leaping up, she completely ignored the familiar visitor walking in  to focus on her food.  

Metzli had a few movies picked out for the night, and of course, as they had mentioned, there were the signature Hispanic blankets with tigers on them. They were incredibly soft and always made them feel so comfortable and cozy. Nothing matched the impeccable designs or craftsmanship. “Pick out what movie you wanna watch first.” A finger pointed to the cases on the coffee table, knowing they’d get a great reaction from Milo.  

Milo let himself into the apartment, his gaze searching the room as he kicked off his Converse. Letting the door swing shut behind him, he pulled the two blood bags out of his backpack so that he could abandon that too, carrying them both to the kitchen where he could hear Metzli preparing Yuca’s dinner. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of cat food hit him, but he couldn’t help feeling a rush of affection at the sight. It was so nice seeing Metzli in such a warm, and domestic setting. Regardless of what they told him about how it felt to exist without a soul, it was obvious they still cared about the animal. “I brought dinner for us.” He explained, setting the blood down on the nearest counter. “Hopefully it’s far more appealing than that.” He nodded his head in the direction of the food bowl, only turning his attention away from his friends when he was instructed to decide upon a movie. He wandered back into the living room, failing to hold back a peal of laughter when the various covers jumped out at him. “Underworld, Let Me In, Vampires vs The Bronx, 30 Days of Night, and… Twilight.” He read aloud, faltering as he reached the final movie. As funny as Twilight was, Rio had been the one to make him watch it. And suddenly he was bombarded by memories of them curled up on Rio’s couch, teasing each other about the ridiculous world of the Cullens.  

And there it was again, that sense of heartache, of something missing from his life. He forced himself to ignore it, forcing it back down until it was nothing more than a minor discomfort. “I haven’t watched half of these since, y’know- since becoming a vampire.” He admitted. “Jeez, it’s so weird looking at them all…” From the quiet, ominous vampires of Let Me In, to the bloodthirsty, monstrous vampires of 30 Days of Night, every writer had their own interpretation. Their own version of what it meant to be undead. “Do you have a favourite?” He called. “Shit, you were alive when all of these came out. Like, an adult- I mean. Did you see any in the cinema?” 

“That’s so rude.” Metzli blew a raspberry at Milo and trotted over to the kitchen and heated up the blood in two mugs to prepare for the movie. They pondered on what he had just said, not seeing any of the movies since becoming the very thing the movies glamorized. The microwave beeped and Metzli grabbed both mugs before heading back to the living room and answering Milo’s question with a somber look on their face. “We didn’t really have movies, you know? All the myths were basically just left to the imagination until, well, it wasn’t just that. Got to see the real thing up close and personal while I think...maybe four or five attacked me? It’s been a long time.” A clack sounded from the table from the mug being placed down, and a soft sigh pushed past tight lips, sitting down slowly. 

With a shake of their head, they sipped and chuckled a little to alleviate some of the tension. Even though it was a little bit of a sensitive subject, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it used to. Besides, Metzli wanted this night to be about friendship and care, not their troubles. “I really like horror, so 30 Days of Night is definitely one of my favorites. Pretty gory too. But no, I’ve never gone to the movies. Always thought the concept was weird.” 

“I meant no offence.” Milo laughed as Metzli stuck their tongue out, listening to them absentmindedly as they readied the blood. It only took a few seconds in the microwave for the smell of copper to permeate the air, and he felt a familiar thirst constrict the back of his throat. Sometimes no matter how well fed you were, the temptation was there. It was undeniable. Glancing back up from the table to offer Metzli his full attention, he gratefully accepted his mug as they brushed past him, curious to hear them speak about being raised without movies. It was something he hadn’t considered, hadn’t really dissected in his mind. The world had been a very different place when Metzli was born into it. A very, very different place. Suppressing a shudder as he thought about how terrifying it had been to be targeted by a single vampire, he couldn’t imagine the abject horror of being attacked by four, or five. He took a drink from his mug, distracting himself with the rich, comforting taste of warm blood. It was strange to consume the same substance repeatedly without growing bored, or sick of it. When he was human he would obsess over a favourite food until he could no longer enjoy it. Until his body demanded he take a break, and find a fresh new flavour to fixate on. But somehow blood tasted better each time he tried it, he knew that was never going to change.  

“I guess I didn’t really think about what genres you might like.” He shot his friend a sheepish grin. He should start paying more attention to the interests of those around him. Sometimes he got so lost in his own problems, he forgot other people were equally as complex. Everybody had shit to deal with, in the same way everybody found something different in books, and films, and other forms of artwork. “You’ve never been to the cinema? Not even once?” He asked, unable to hide his incredulity. He joined Metzli on the couch, picking up one of the blankets they had laid out ready for him. Setting his mug down so that he wouldn’t spill his drink and stain the material, he ran his fingers along the soft fabric, enjoying how gentle it felt against his skin. “You’ve not even been a little curious?” 

Metzli shrugged, not really caring if Milo had ever thought that deeply about them. To his credit, they hadn’t really delved into interests and preferences. This was one of the first times the two had been able to sit down and take a breather from all the impending doom. “No, never been interested. Why bother going out in public when I can just watch a movie here? Can’t even have the snacks there.” The television came to life and the Playstation soon followed. There was no need for a dvd player when everything could be condensed to one console. 

“All right, have you picked yet?” Mug in hand, Metzli leaned back and let an arm drape over the back of the couch casually, taking special care to make sure Milo didn’t notice. He seemed a little distant, not taking to his usual snarky personality where the two could go back and forth easily. Something was gnawing at him, but they weren’t sure if prodding was the right move. Taking the risk, they nudged their hand forward and ruffled Milo’s hair. 

“You okay, Depresso?”  

Milo laughed, shaking his head. “But it’s about the experience. There are some seriously cool cinemas out there. And even if the cinema isn’t the greatest, midnight premieres and shit can still be so much fun. It’s nice to sit in a room knowing you share a passion with everybody in there… I guess you kind of have that with your art gallery, huh?” Settling down against the cushions, picking up his mug again to cradle it in both hands, he watched the Playstation logo appear on the tv screen, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip. The Twilight DVD kept drawing his attention, and he couldn’t help but remember the same DVD on Rio’s coffee table. The way Rio’s face had lit up when he inserted the disc into his own Playstation. “I don’t know.” He answered, his voice far more disinterested than he had intended it to sound. He pushed his glasses up his nose, attempting to compose himself, although he knew there was no real use in making the effort. Metzli knew him, and the entire reason for him being here was his emotional state. He quite literally couldn't hide from them.  

As if to prove his point, Metzli leaned back to join him, and he avoided their gaze, staring straight ahead despite there being nothing to watch just yet. “What? No, I’m fine-” He insisted, not moving away in time to avoid his friend’s hand. Pouting like a child as he surrendered himself to the treatment, he didn’t bother brushing his hair down again. Leaving it tousled, and unkempt almost to spite them. “I’m just-” He broke off, wondering whether he should finish his sentence. “I’m missing someone- Rio. I’m missing someone called Rio.” He was suddenly grateful for his inability to blush. “We got close a while back… he actually showed me Twilight to make me feel better about all of this. But he’s gone… he left, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to see him again. He was the first person to ever make me doubt what I want… you know? And now…” He hesitantly caught Metzli’s gaze, looking away again almost immediately. “It doesn’t matter, I’m being stupid.”

Seeing that Milo didn’t bat their hand away, they attempted to just run their hand through his hair, trying their best to be comforting. Missing people was extremely hard, especially when they made such a big impact on you and when you don’t know where they went. Metzli’s voice took on a caring tone, giving as much as they could to their friend, their…“Kid, that’s not stupid. You know how hard it is to get close to people? You did it and now that connection is just gone. That would hurt the strongest of people. Hell, I—” Their hand continued to show their affection and they secretly hoped he’d let them continue. “I would be pretty devastated if you left after we built this connection. You’re one of the few people I can stand, and one of the very few people I can trust. So no, Milo, it’s not stupid.” 

Metzli looked concerned for Milo, wishing they could mend whatever wound was laying deeply and heavily on his heart. “Do you wanna say it? What he made you doubt?” The way he trailed off and seemed to dismiss his own feelings didn’t sit right with them. Though they knew what it was like to be in that position. A part of them understood the need to try to push it off, believe it wasn’t really there. Accepting the pain made it more real, and made it inescapable.  

Milo stared down into his mug, tapping his fingers against it as he listened to what Metzli had to say. He felt ridiculous for being comforted by the hand in his hair, but he was. And he made no effort to move away from his friend. “Part of it is just… we were friends before, but we became real friends like, a month after I died. It was all so overwhelming and he just wanted me to be okay. I didn’t realise until after he left that I…” He swallowed, taking a sip of his drink so that he could avoid stating the painfully obvious. “I’m just mad at myself, I guess. For not kissing him when I had the chance.” It was the first time he had admitted anything close, even to himself, but there was no weight lifted from his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better for the admission, even if acknowledging it was somehow a relief. He had been confused for so long, maybe going forward he could be a little less so. “You mean it?” He caught Metzli’s eye, a frown creasing his brow as he stared at them. “That you can trust me?” Even his own parents didn’t trust him. And he knew there were a handful of people in his life dedicated to seeing the good in him, but it still didn’t feel real sometimes. It still felt incredible to hear.  

Taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he considered his options, he leaned into Metzli’s touch. Not only did it give him the assurance he needed, it meant he had no choice but to move closer to them. With his cheek resting against their shoulder, they could no longer see his expression. “He made me doubt whether I really want to be alone. And for a moment I wasn’t… even Alex was someone. But when Alex kissed my neck it was like- like being back there. Like being attacked all over again, and I panicked. What if sex just isn’t a part of my life now? I don’t know what to think about that… I don’t know how to feel.” He knew sex wasn’t the only way of sharing intimacy with a partner, but it was something he had relied on for so long. The excitement, the rush, the physical pleasure… he didn’t want to lose that. And to begin to want more when he couldn’t even handle the bare minimum was so difficult. It caused his chest to ache with longing. “I never even tried… having a boyfriend, I mean. I never wanted that. And now I’m wondering whether I left it too late. What if I have? What if I wasted my opportunities and now I’m just… alone forever?” 

“I mean it.” Metzli scooted closer, letting their legs touch and draping their arm a little more over Milo. They longed to comfort him, to take his pain and just feel it for him instead. He didn’t just lose a friend, he lost more than that when he was bit. A part of his innocence was stripped away, and made him feel scared and lost. “Milo, you have forever to live. This pain is something to grow from, and there is no set time line when it comes to healing. I know that doesn’t make it less real, though.” A firm grip rested at his shoulder, gradually pulling him in, letting him know he wasn’t alone. He never had to be alone again. Not if Metzli could help it. Even though they couldn’t fill that romantic gap, they could do their best to fill in the rest, and they knew Bex would do the same.  

Milo’s hair moved around their hand as they doted on him and did what they could to appease the beast of longing and loss. “We’re kind of opposite. I think I’m gonna be alone forever, yet I fuck whatever woman will say yes. When all I really want is someone to be with in that way. It’s hard to be that vulnerable. It feels nearly impossible. Especially at the beginning, especially after you’ve been turned.” Metzli raised the mug to their lips and took a moment to pause and drink. A ball was forming in their throat, and this was the best way to push it back down and remain composed. “You’re thinking of everything in such finality when you haven’t even given yourself the chance to experience grace. Not from others, but yourself. You’re expecting to be okay, but that’s not how it works. You’re not going to be okay for a while, and that’s okay.” 

Metzli placed the empty mug on the coffee table, breaking contact completely and not returning to it when they faced Milo. “You’re a catch. You have a big heart. And you just started your forever. Let yourself begin before you settle on an ending.” 

Milo faltered, reminded suddenly of the way his mom used to wrap her arms around him. She would sit with him on the couch like this, or curl up beside him in bed just to help him feel safe. He blinked away tears, shrinking in on himself as he allowed Metzli to comfort him. They were right, of course. He did have forever, but that was an equally terrifying thought. He couldn’t imagine outliving his friends and family, he couldn’t imagine existing in a world without them. But one day he wouldn’t have to imagine, one day that would be his reality. Struck by a sudden urge to call his parents, he buried the feeling, focusing on what Metzli was telling him. “No, I know…” He murmured, a frown creasing his brow. Why did he have to heal, and grow? Why couldn’t he just be okay? It felt so unfair that he was struggling due to the actions of another person, another vampire. None of this was his fault. “We’re not opposites.” He added, still clutching his mug to his chest. He couldn’t drink from it without jostling Metzli, but the smell of the blood was enough to relax him. “I used to do that because I didn’t want anything more…  and it was so easy.” Falling silent again, surprised by his friend’s honesty, he took a deep breath, mulling over the new information.  

“You want to be with someone?” He echoed. “Really?” He wasn’t sure being vulnerable was the issue. He couldn’t let somebody near his neck without being transported back to his final moments, but that wasn’t about vulnerability. Was it? “It’s been seven months, Metzli. I should know what I’m doing by now.” As if they could hear what he was thinking, they continued, telling him he was valid in his frustrations, complimenting him in a way that he was far from used to. “Why, though? Why can’t I just work my shit out already? So many people I know aren’t struggling… I mean, I don’t think they are.” He knew everybody had parts of their life that weren’t necessarily easy to navigate. But he also knew more than a few people, supernatural people, who didn’t seem to let what they were get in the way of their lives. It was natural to them. They almost embraced it. “I’m not settling on anything.” He let out a quiet huff of breath. “I just- I don’t know what I want. I thought I did and now… everything feels so screwed up.” 

“Here’s the thing, Milo. No one knows what the fuck they’re doing. All you can do, is try.” Metzli’s voice trembled slightly, knowing all too well what Milo is going through. “Everyone sews together masks with their heartstrings, the most vulnerable and delicate things. All in hopes that trying is enough. And it is. It’s akin to success.” The words felt almost preachy, but they were exactly how Metzli felt, what they wished someone had told them when they were sitting on the highway of loneliness. Thousands of cars drove past, but somehow it still felt so empty. When all they needed was someone to sit next to them, buy them time with nothing in their wallet. The time they needed to figure it all out. And since they didn’t have that, they had to settle for scarring their heart with all the blood they had to sell to pay down the debt of loss and misery. Milo didn’t have to do that. Not while they were around.  

With a single nod, they smiled and pulled Milo into their chest to hold him tightly. “Yeah, I do. After over a fucking century, I do. And it doesn’t have to take that long for you. ‘Cause you don’t have to be alone in figuring all this shit out. I won’t let you.” Metzli chuckled for no other reason than the surprise of them uttering those words. It wasn’t one of amusement or humor, it was one of joy in being able to love a friend. “Everything is so screwed up now, and everything feels like a bandaid or wrong answer, but I can be your best guess. Bex can too. We can lay in the mess and clean it up together ‘cause doing it alone sucks. You’ll heal. Little by little. God that sounds so preachy and lame, but fuck it.” Tears fell down their face and they had to rush and wipe them. They couldn’t help but wonder when the fuck they got so sappy. 

“I knew what I was doing before somebody decided to murder me.” Milo muttered, his voice quiet, and petulant. Things had been easier, yes, but he wasn’t entirely sure his words were true. His lifestyle hadn’t been sustainable. He lived each day to the next, never knowing where he was going to sleep, or how he was going to pay for the hit he was craving. His life plan had simply been to keep going until he inevitably burned himself out. Maybe that was why he felt so lost, because he actually had a future now. A vast one that stretched out impossibly before him. A begrudging smile tugging at his lips as he registered Metzli’s words, he hummed to let them know he was still listening. “Hm… you sound like a Hallmark card.” He made no effort to hide his affection for them, sincerely hoping they might be right. If trying could be considered enough, then maybe he was enough. He was trying for quite possibly the first time in his life and that had to count for something. 

Allowing himself to be pulled closer against his friend, even if he wanted to withdraw he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He felt like a child again, transferring his worries and his pain over to an adult, somebody who could hold him and tell him everything was going to be fine. “I didn’t realise you wanted… is that why you’re so close with Macleod?” He asked, unable to stop the words from escaping him. He was curious to know, and it was a good distraction from his own thoughts. Eventually slipping out from under his friend’s arm, he missed the contact almost immediately. Vampires didn’t offer a lot of warmth, but the comfort of an embrace was still very much the same. He pulled his knees up to his chest, watching them to see if they were crying. He strongly suspected they might be, it was the only reason he had moved away from them, but they had already erased any evidence of their tears. 

“I think it sounded nice.” He left no room for them to argue, taking a long drink from his mug so that they wouldn’t be able to counter his statement. No longer preoccupied by the feeling of his fangs pressing down against his lower lip, he realised it would feel far more strange to drink without them present. Yet another way he was growing used to his life now. “I’m really glad I have you, Metzli. And Bex, and Macleod and everyone else who cares… but especially you.”

“Did you, though? If you’re lost now, you were definitely lost before. It was just simpler then.” Metzli retorted quietly, smiling wryly and letting Milo put some space between them. At first they thought they had done something wrong, pushed too far, said too much, but no. Milo was checking on them. Soft eyes clung onto him and they continued on to begrudgingly answer Milo’s question. Not even they knew the answer, but maybe they’d find it along the way. “Not sure how close Macleod feels to me. I have feelings. And god, we connect. But…not sure she’d ever feel something for me, or if anyone could. But I think—sometimes—I…” It was so difficult to say it aloud. Once it was out there, there was no taking it back. “Sometimes I feel like I want to be with Bex. I know it’ll never happen. And I won’t act on it. But I love her. More than I’d like to. I think a lot of it has to do with how similar we are and how strong our connection is.” Metzli swallowed, but continued. “And if I’m that fucking nuts to possibly be in love with—I don’t know. Maybe it’s fine. Means I’m capable of it. Of loving. But I have no idea what I am, if I’m being honest. Maybe this is just strong platonic love and I don’t know how to decipher it.” 

Knees met chest, making them so small as they uttered their truth. All Metzli could hope for is that Milo never mentioned it to Bex. “Wait what? Why especially me? Aren’t I like, the worst parent of the year or something?” 

Milo wanted to deny what Metzli was telling him, he could already feel the beginnings of defensive anger. But it wasn’t fair to fight back, not when he himself had been thinking the very same. “Maybe.” He admitted, finishing what was left of his drink. Setting the empty mug down on the coffee table, he moved to rest his chin on top of his knees, holding his friend’s gaze as they answered his question. Their expression was so gentle, it was difficult to imagine anybody reserving that look for him. Maybe it was for Macleod, even before they clarified he had been so sure they shared a connection with her. But there was a chance it wasn’t quite as strong as he first assumed. Metzli didn’t seem to be in love with her. Feelings could mean almost anything. “Are you still seeing her?” He asked, curious to know whether their adventures were a thing of the past. If that was the case, he should be glad he was no longer going to be subjected to stories about what they got up to when they were together. But the idea actually made him sad. It was fun to feign disgust, but he had secretly been enjoying the idea of the two people he looked up to becoming romantically involved.  

“Wait-” He blinked, his brain taking more than a moment to catch up with what Metzli had said. Bex? Surely they couldn’t mean Bex Bex. He could feel the illusion of a familial unit shattering, rearranging itself to fit this new piece of the puzzle, a piece that didn’t connect to any of the others. “You’re in love… with Bex?” Confusion was written across his features, and he stared at his friend, a million questions running through his head. “I thought not having a soul… can you love somebody like that?” It sounded insensitive, and that hadn’t been his intention, but his desire to know far surpassed his desire to tread lightly. Metzli certainly wasn’t treading lightly. “I mean, do you think it could be? I’ve never been in love, I only know how people talk about it… can you confuse romantic love with platonic love?”  

Noticing the shift in Metzli’s body language, the way they seemed to be making themself as small as possible, he swallowed, inching closer to where they were sitting. “It’s okay, I’m not about to tell anyone. It’s for you to figure out.” He assured them. It was the least he could do after they had listened to him. “And no, obviously not.” He added, a smile tugging at his lips. “Organise a couple of interventions and maybe you’ll be getting there. You’re actually pretty great, y’know.”

Despair filled Metzli’s eyes and they felt a pang of embarrassment as they were asked if they could even feel anything. It was a good question, one they didn’t know the answer to. For all they knew, this was just an infatuation gone incredibly wrong. “I haven’t seen Macleod since coming back. I’ve reached out, but there’s been no response. I want to see her. She’s…wonderful. She’s so fierce and aggressive, but can be so kind and sweet. There’s no one like her, but l don’t even know if she’d be interested in something more.” Their hand reached for the pendant around their neck, the one Macleod had given to them. They hadn’t even taken it off except for when they thought it might get damaged.  

“I don’t know what this is honestly, Milo. I just know that I love her. Intensely. In my own, soulless way, I love her. But of course, I need to ask you to not say anything. I’m still trying to figure it out.” Metzli sighed and shut their eyes tightly to string another sentence together. “I’ve tried researching ‘cause I’ve never felt it either. So many things point to platonic while others say romantic. I don’t know anymore. But the only thing that matters is that I let myself figure it out. Sorry.” Eyes avoided Milo’s ashamedly and they sighed again.  

Metzli grew sad at the thought of Milo thinking his parents were bad because of what they tried to do to help him. Interventions were scary, but they were ultimately for the betterment of the person receiving them. They came from a place of love. Anger bubbled but they pushed it back down. He was lost, and forcing him to find the path wasn’t going to help. “I’ll have to tell you about this werewolf and then you’ll think differently.” The mood shifted a little more positively and Metzli ran with it. “Let’s pop a movie in and just…forget shit for a while. How does that sound?”

Milo smiled when Metzli began to talk about Macleod. He felt a sense of pride that he couldn’t really understand. Macleod wasn’t any relation to him, and she was far older than he was. He had no right to feel proud of her simply because somebody else saw the same spark, and yet, he definitely did. “Huh…” He knew Macleod had accompanied Metzli to confront the vampires sent by Eloy. Had it been too much for her? Was it possible she was distancing herself? “I haven’t spoken to her in a while, actually… maybe I should message her.” Glancing down at the pendant Metzli wore, he wondered whether it had been given to them by Macleod. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it before. He thought back to the first time he had seen Metzli after their journey, the awful open wound that had been ominously wrapped around their throat. Macleod was the reason they were still alive, probably the reason their head was still attached to their body. A truly terrifying thought. “I’m not going to say anything, Metzli.” It was in his nature to stay out of other people’s drama, especially when there was potential for him to get dragged into it. He knew when to keep his mouth shut, both for somebody else’s sake, and for his own.  

“Hey…” He prompted them to look back up, hoping to dispel any of the awkward embarrassment they were obviously struggling with. It was weird, and confusing, but nothing for Metzli to be ashamed of. “Don’t apologise, okay? It’ll work out… everything will.” He knew he couldn’t promise that, but he so badly wanted his words to be true. Saying them out loud felt good, even if the statement was undeniably shallow. “Oh, Jeez-” A laugh escaped him at the sudden shift in conversation, and he shot his friend an easy grin. “I don’t want to hear it, okay?” He pretended to be horrified by the prospect. “That sounds perfect. Anything to get you to keep your mouth shut.” Climbing off of the couch, he pointedly swiped Twilight from the coffee table, making his way over to the Playstation so that he could slip the disc into the disc drive. He could hear Metzli behind him, getting more comfortable with their blankets, he could hear Yuca padding about the apartment, no doubt planning to join them the moment the movie began. And he could still smell what was left of the blood, the scent thick, and warm, and familiar. Things were complicated, he was beginning to realise they were always going to be complicated. But Metzli was right, the past wasn’t easier just because his problems were different now. He had so many things to be grateful for. As long as he had bad movies, a reliable source of blood, and Yuca, and Metzli, and every other person in his life that he cared for, then things were okay... Things were okay because he was okay. 

#c:metzli #metzli and milo #addiction tw

[twigstarpikachutroll22]

ASDFGHJKL MY FRIEND WHO WATCHED TROLLS FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS DAY LAST YEAR WATCHED TROLLS WORLD TOUR TODAY AND SENT ME REACTIONS

Just a warning: This post contains SPOILERS GALORE so I’m putting all the screenshots under the cut. Also it’s REALLY REALLY LONG, just another warning.

I actually hadn’t seen the message up until THIS point and when I did see them I was EXCITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She paused to get a snack, then resumed the movie.

By this point I was starting to get more and more absorbed to the point where it would eventually start to feel like I was experiencing TWT all over again with her.

Not gonna lie, I was about to start defending classical music here. I mean, I don’t particularly enjoy it either, but it definitely doesn’t deserve to get destroyed.

Honestly, there were little details like this that I’d forgotten since I’d only watched the movie once so far, but reading reactions to them brought them back to me.

This was another of those little things I’d forgotten XD

I asked what it was. She didn’t answer.

I have not heard that song but I assume from context it’s preeeeetty heavy on the angst.

There was a few-minute break in which I received no messages. The next one I did get was this:

I was not sure what she was referring to or how much time had passed. I told her I was a little lost and asked what else had happened by now.

I mentioned also “Hickory knows ;-)” referring to how he could tell Branch had feelings for Poppy. But I’d kinda forgotten that the part where they had that conversation didn’t happen until a bit later. So I wound up confusing her.

At this point she asked me what I meant by “Hickory knows ;-)” with her first guess being that he knew about the jazz guy (”HOW”) and I had to tell her no, that’s not what I meant, which was when I realized I’d spoken too soon.

Then...

And things go further south...

And all right, we’re with the funk trolls now!

(I mentioned to her that they probably made that joke because JT said disco was a really underrated genre which was why he decided to put some in the first movie.)

And then--then we get to the BIG twist

There was a pause at this point. And then...

I messaged briefly saying how it makes sense considering all the pop remixes of songs in real life and how every genre you can think of crosses over with pop.

Then...well, then my tutor facetimed for our usual Wendsday hour-and-a-half-long session. And I couldn’t just put that off, but things were REEEEEALLY getting good at this point of the movie. I was torn. I messaged asking whether we were gonna keep doing this during the session or keep it on pause for now. And...

(I only found out later what she was referring to here was the argument Poppy and Branch had. And her reaction was a BIG FAT MOOD.)

There was a few-minute period at this point in which there were no messages. And then...

And thus, for the next I-don’t-know-how-long I was flipping back and forth between trying to focus on schoolwork, and these reactions perfectly capturing the emotional devastation and horror of everything happening from this point onwards which I ended up feeling all over again along with my friend here.

And so after that brief and glorious moment of hope, we make our way to the worst of the worst...

(seriously her reactions by now are EXACTLY what I was feeling first watching the movie myself)

I won’t lie, the song started playing full blast in my head and oh MAN did I want to sing it right out loud. ALL the hope comes rushing back in at this point.

(Who needs true love’s kiss when you can have true love’s high five, amiright?)

And the verdict:

I remember when her final verdict on the first movie was “crazy the amount of awesome stuff you can find at the bottom of the craft store clearance bin ;-)”

I’d found THAT back then to be the most INCREDIBLY satisfying thing EVER, snark and all.

THIS though, this is a considerable step up.

(I messaged back “DOCIOUSALIEXPIISTICFRAGICALIRUPUS ASDFGHJKLQWERTYUIOPZXCVBNM”)

Then...

(I did message back some time later about all the parts she hadn’t said anything about, like Branch’s verse in Trolls Just Wanna Have Fun, the friendzone scene, and the entire Perfect For Me scene which was heartbreaking and beautiful and made me want to cry.)

(Also found out she hadn’t bothered to watch the credits and stinger. And told her they were awesome.)

(Also mentioned how Poppy in that jail cell in the country trolls’ town said “sssshhhSUGAR!” in frustration, like she just had to censor a cuss word.)

(Haven’t heard back yet.)

(In any case, I have never focused less in a tutoring session in my life and also this afternoon/evening has been SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS AND WONDERAINBOWLICIOUSLY MAGICAMAZINGBALLZTASTICAL!!!!!!!!)

#trolls world tour spoilers #twt spoilers #SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO freaking many spoilers #SPOILERS #SPOILER

[eirian-houpe]

The Library Beneath the Clock Tower - Chapter 23

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit<br />Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Gaston (Once Upon a Time)

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Grumpy | Leroy, Maurice | Moe French, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Merida (Once Upon a Time), Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Le Fou, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Gus | Billy

Additional Tags: Bookshop On the Corner, slightly AU, Cursed Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Eventual Smut

Summary: Storybrooke has no library, and neither does Belle, not since the library where she worked in Boston discovered her past as an inpatient at a mental hospital. Taking her future into her own hands, Belle travels to Storybrooke where her intention is to open up the town library, but all does not go according to her plan. Obstacles and false starts, and diversion along very wrong pathways interrupt her journey toward fulfilling her dream, as well as taking her rightful place and becoming a part of the Storybrooke community.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 23 - By Jefferson’s Hand

Belle made all kinds of protests to Jefferson as he led her onto the dance floor, even warned of the cliche that she would stand on his feet. Which only made him chuckle in apparent amusement.

“Nonsense, my dear Belle,” he told her, “I assure you that I’m an excellent teacher. Just follow my lead and you can’t go wrong.”

Belle raised an eyebrow, not exactly doubting him, rather doubting his intentions.

“You’re just trying to get me away from Mister Gold,” she accused softly, “and the man he’s with.”

Jefferson shuddered, and drew her a little closer as he began to move with the rhythm of the dance in such a way that she had little choice but to follow.

“Jones. Unsavory character,” he said, “Very bad business. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

Belle tried to see around Jefferson to where Gold was standing, but barely caught a glimpse of the man, still engaged in what looked like a somewhat heated conversation, before her dance partner twirled her away and she was forced to concentrate on the the dancing.

It wasn’t that the steps were hard, and indeed under Jefferson’s excellent tutelage Belle soon got the hang of the repeating patterns of back and forth, promenade and moments of contact. In fact, she soon found herself enjoying the dance, becoming lost in it as a way to forget her worries and the ugly way in which Regina had greeted her.

As they turned around the dance floor, she spotted Ruby, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself, dancing and deeply in conversation with Gus. She smiled, and turning so that he could follow the direction of her gaze Jefferson let out another chuckle.

“Seems like your friend had made quite the impression,” he said.

“That’s Ruby!” Belle answered with a wryly amused shake of her head.

The dance ended, and Jefferson offered a courtly bow and escorted Belle to the side of the room where the refreshments stood on the long trestle table, affording her the opportunity to get herself a snack. She only wanted something light, but she thought it was probably wise to eat something to soak up the wine that she had drunk.

While she nibbled on the finger food she had chosen, she watched the dancers, and those who, like her, preferred to be on the outside of it all watching, seeing what there was to learn about everyone. Of course in this instance, she hardly knew who anyone was, so it was a bit of a moot point, but she meant to change that. Once the library was open she wanted to come to know each and every one of her Storybrooke neighbors.

The music changed again, and some of the dancers drifted to new partners or away from the dance floor altogether. It was a slightly more lively dance than the others, and many of the townspeople only managed to make it through half of the dance before they were winded, and needed to take a break. Those with the stamina for it, however, were not to be deterred, simply finding new partners with whom to complete the dance and, in some cases, simply dragging them onto the dance floor. Granny was one such person, grasped by the hand by a similarly aged gentleman the top of whose head was bald, but gray hair adorned the back and sides of his head, and he had a beautiful and neatly trimmed snow white beard and mustache. He looked very distinguished, in spite of the obvious twinkle in his eyes.

Belle watched, smiling as Granny kicked up her heels, laughing more than Belle had ever seen her laugh. It made her happy to see, and she smiled fondly, watching for a moment more before, for some reason, her mind turned again to thoughts of Mister Gold.

She looked toward where she’d last seen him with - what was it Jefferson had called him - Jones? At first she could not see either Jones, or Mister Gold, but the mayor stood nearby to where they’d been, with her back to Belle. It wasn’t until Miss Mills moved a little, as if pacing that Belle saw past her to where Gold was standing, leaning on his cane, a clear look of consternation on his face.

At a sudden signal from Regina, the band brought the current dance to an end, apparently a little more abruptly than the dancers expected because there was a general murmur of discontent among the evening’s attendees, before Leroy called out over the growing rumble.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please find your partners for the Storybrooke Carole.”

Belle frowned, wondering what was going on, and indeed why there was suddenly so much excitement after their apparent displeasure mere moments before. Townsfolk began hurrying around the hall, gathering people as though to share some vital moment; a monumental event.  After allowing the milling to go on for a few minutes, Mayor Mills turned back to Mister Gold and even across the general hubbub, Belle heard her say, “Shall we?”

To her utter horror, Gold leaned his cane against a nearby table, and in the manner of some ancient, dark knight raised his arm, fist slightly closed, and Regina placed her hand over his, and the two walked to the center of the dance floor. Belle’s stomach clenched, and she felt a flush fly through her blood, reaching to color her face an instant later as a bitter anger subsumed her. It was not the disappointment, since she had believed in the second before that Gold would turn Regina down and laugh in her face, and he had not, it was something more than that;  Something deeper for which she had no reason, and definitely no right. She was jealous.

“Come on.” Suddenly Jefferson was beside her again, and took her hand in his, taking her plate with the other hand and setting it on the edge of the trestle table beside her. “There’s no way you’re missing this one.”

“What? No!” Belle protested, “Jefferson, I—”

“Yes,” he said, fixing her with a stern look completely at odds with everything else she had seen of him that evening, “Belle, trust me. You want to do this.”

She frowned, sighing, but allowed him to lead her to where Gold and Regina, and now others of the excited party goers, were forming two large circles, one inside the other, alternating male and female in each ring.

Belle retained enough presence of mind to remember that a ‘Carole’ was a kind of medieval circle dance, but still, how was she supposed to join in with a dance when she didn’t know the steps?

“Jefferson…!” she started.

“Just watch the others, you’ll get the hang of it,” he said as though he knew what she was thinking.

As soon as the circles had settled, and an expectant kind of hush descended over the hall, Regina nodded her head toward the stage, and Leroy and the band struck up the music, and after a brief introduction was played through once, the circles began to move.

Each circle moved in opposite directions, and the pattern of steps seemed to work in groups of eight beats of the music. Belle kept a close eye on those to her left and right, as well as the person opposite her at any given time. First they stepped to the right for a count of eight, and then back again to the left. That part was easy enough, and brought her right back to Jefferson, who then guided her through the back and forth steps - stepping towards him first so that their right hands touched, and back, and then the same for their left hands. Finally, he took her right hand in his left, guided her all the way around his body, to return her to the middle circle once more.

The second set of steps differed slightly, and Belle tried not to panic.  The first set of eight steps, the ones to the right, contained what she could only describe as a ‘swish’ on beats three and four, before her circle returned all eight steps to the left. This meant that when they came to a stop she had a new partner, a man she did not recognize, but who gave her a courteous nod of his head, before the second half of the pattern from before repeated step for step. In to the right, then in to the left, and around her new partner to return to her inner ring.

Just when she thought she had got the hang of the steps, on the third set, everything changed again. The promenade remained the same, with the swish, and a new partner at the end of it, but then instead of the in and out with her new dance partner, she and the person to her left, and their opposite partners all joined their right hands in a peak between them, and circled around to a count of four in a clockwise direction, then turned to join their left hands, and circle back counter-clockwise to the same count, finally breaking apart to to step toward their partner, with joined hands, and then circle around each other without touching.

In spite of being kept on her toes, both mentally and sometimes physically with the taller among her partners, Belle found herself beginning to enjoy the dance, and wondered what would come next. In the fourth set of steps she found that evening changed once more, and it made her chuckle a little out aloud. Once again the promenade remained the same, with the swish, bringing her to face a new partner, but then her new partner, far from maintaining his distance, stepped close to slip his right arm around her waist, much as she would have anticipated in a more modern social dance and instinctively she lifted her left to rest against his shoulder. They then shuffle stepped to her right for four counts, and back again to the left, before turning around, together, for the count of six, and on the last two beats of pattern he gave her a bow, and she bobbed a curtsy.

The whole of the dance then repeated, though maintaining the ‘swish’ in the first of the promenades, and as Belle became more confident and familiar with the steps, she found she put herself, heart and soul, into the dance; embracing it, letting herself truly become a part of it. It filled her with the warmth of belonging, somehow, which seemed to bring an infectious smile to those with whom she danced.

Twice more, through the pattern, and a third time, then, as they reached the last part of the repeat, she found herself face to face with Mister Gold.

Her belly flipped as the heated leather of his arm slipped around her waist and drew her toward him, her heart began to pound in her chest as she slipped her own hand onto the supple black leather at his shoulder. Where their other hands clasped together, toughed lightly, she felt her skin tingle fiercely; a sensation that reached, deep and low, to her more intimate of spaces, as he drew her closer still, so that when they moved, his powerful, leather-clad thighs pressed firmly against her own, and she moved with him as though one. When they turned, she felt as though she were floating, and tightened her grasp on his shoulder, feeling his breath against her cheek. It took her a moment to realize that he had lifted her, and her skirt billowed around her, like flowing water, before he set her down again, light as a feather, and gave her the deepest, most elegant of bows as he slipped the contact of his hands from her body, his arms spreading wide, palms up as though in supplication, as he murmured, “Miss Marchland.”

She dipped an equally heart-felt curtsy, lowering her eyes as she murmured his name in return, then looked up to find his eyes for just a moment, and held there, as she held her breath. She felt as though she saw the world, her world, reflected there in his deep brown eyes and tried to keep the moment for herself, but then she blinked, straightened and stepped into the last repeat of the dance, and he was gone, as though he had never been there. She did not see him again for the rest of the evening.

#rumbelle #angst #eventual smut #the library beneath the clock tower

[make-me-imagine]

Movie Night

Prompt: “I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright? It’s a... Terrifying...Rom-com" - changed a little

Characters: Steve Rogers x reader

Gender: Any/Neutral   Triggers: None - unless you count cheesy fluff

Words: 1,847 - yay for inspiration! 

Five prompt lists you can send requests from - One - Two - Three - Four - Five

It was movie night, you were so excited. Tonight you got to choose one of the movies. You were trying to decide between ‘Clueless’ or ‘Easy A’. Wanda was choosing the second movie, you wondered what she was going to choose.

You decided to get ready by changing into your most comfy pajamas, going into the large room where you were going to watch the movie, you see Nat and Clint already waiting.

“Hey guys, what kind of snacks do you want?” you asked while walking past them towards the kitchen.

“Popcorn” Nat said

“Chocolate!” Clint yelled almost excited, causing you to chuckle

When you entered the kitchen you saw Steve leaning against the counter, as you entered he smiled brightly at you.

“Hey” he said as you walked up to him

“Hi” you said quickly pecking his cheek before getting the popcorn.

He smiled at your back as he watched you. Your’s and Steve relationship was...odd. He had this whole “Can’t date co-workers” feel about it. But he had fallen for you, and you for him. So you had this unusual, dating but not dating thing. You would kiss him on the cheek and he would hold your hand occasionally, or hug you randomly, you had only kissed once or twice. And you never actually labeled your relationship, so he also never told any of the others about you two.

You didn’t care if they knew. You wanted to be in an actual relationship with him, but you wouldn’t force him to do anything about it. 

Turning back towards him after you put one of the bags in the microwave you opened the desk drawer with all the chocolate. 

“What kind of chocolate do you want?!” you yelled out to Clint

“All of it!” you heard a second later

You and Steve both laughed as you started pulling out the candy. Steve,without even looking to make sure no one was coming into the kitchen walked toward you before turning your body towards him. Looking up into his eyes with a puzzled look on your face he suddenly placed a kiss on your lips. It didn’t last long but it still left you breathless.

After a moment of shocked silence you smiled “What was that for?” your voice came out as a whisper

“Nothing in particular” he said before smiling and leaving the room, leaving you to stare at him bewilderment.

Earlier

Steve was leaving the gym after working out when he saw you. The new security guard was flirting with you. He watched for a moment before jealously started to take over. Doesn’t he know their taken? He asked himself angrily, before realizing. No, he doesn’t. No one does. Do they even count as taken? I’ve never even asked them out properly.

“It’s rude to stare”

He jumped at the sudden voice behind him, turning defensively, he immediately faltered, sighing when he sees Natasha smirking at him.

“I wasn’t staring”

"Uh-huh” she said, not convinced. She took a step towards him “Steve. If you want y/n, tell them. Otherwise they will give up on you and move on to someone else” she said in a moment of sincerity while looking over Steve’s shoulder at you and the security guard.

When she walked away Steve turned back and looked at you. You said goodbye to the guard as you walked into the elevator. Looking down at his feet he turned and started walking towards the stairs, thinking of what he should do.

Now

After leaving you in the kitchen with a blush on your face, he smiled to himself. His eyes met Natasha’s briefly, which she met with a smirk. He had a feeling she knew what was going on. After sitting on the couch he watched as you entered with two bowls of popcorn and a bunch of chocolate.

After setting the bowls on the table and throwing all the chocolate you brought onto Clint’s lap you went back into the kitchen again to get more popcorn.

Coming back in with the rest of the popcorn you see that Wanda, Bruce and Tony had arrived. Tony looking as bored as he possibly could. You had a feeling either Wanda or Bruce forced him to come tonight. He usually doesn’t come at all. A moment later Bucky and Sam entered quickly choosing their spots on the couch. Before sitting down you put ‘Clueless’ into the player. You decided a classic would be better for the evening.

Turning back to the couch you see that the only available space left just happened to be next to Steve. Sitting down casually beside him, you were aware of how close you were, and you were also aware of the look you were getting from Nat. You always wondered if she knew about your’s and Steves...thing.

About thirty minutes into the movie Tony had wandered off to the “bathroom”, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t be coming back. The others were pretty invested in the movie. Especially Bucky, who was watching with a bewildered yet amused expression on his face.

An hour in and Tony hadn’t returned, Clint had eaten almost all of his chocolate and the others were all reclined comfortably. 

Your breath hitched slightly as you felt Steve adjust his body, leaning into yours a little. Avoiding looking over at him your heart started pounding slightly as you felt his hand move next to yours. Was he going to hold your hand? Did he even realize what he was doing?

You’re questions were soon answered about ten minutes later when you felt Steve’s hand slide into yours, squeezing it gently. Sparring a glance at him you see him staring at the tv, but noticed the small smile on the edge of his lips.

He could tell you were confused about what he was doing. He decided to do what Nat suggested. He was going to tell you how he felt and he was going to finally ask you to be his. But he was going to start here, he was going to show you that he was okay with being “intimate” around the others. Though hand-holding barely counted as intimate. But it was a start.

Gripping your hand a little more and pulling you a little closer he waited till the movie was slightly louder to whisper to you, so that no one could hear him “I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary. It’s a... Terrifying...Rom-com" he said in a joking voice.

You smiled lightly in amusement, excited that he was doing this in front of everyone. Maybe he was finally becoming comfortable with being with you publicly, or at least around the others.

Nat glanced quickly at you, seeing Steve’s hand joined with yours. Smirking lightly she glanced at Clint who looked at her with a similar smile on his face. 

As the movie ended Steve didn’t remove his hand from yours as Wanda stood to change movies. She also noticed Steve take your hand, and she could sense your excitement and fear. But you were happy, both of you. But she smirked to herself knowing that the movie she chose would bring you even closer.

The others all left briefly for bathroom breaks and to get more food. While you and Steve stayed on the couch. 

You took the opportunity to lean in to talk to Steve “What are you doing?”

He turned to you smiling “What do you mean?” he asked innocently

You gave him a look that said ‘seriously?’ “Steve”

He chuckled before getting serious “I’ll tell you everything later, but for now. I just, I don’t want to hide this anymore” he said looking down at your hand, before placing a brief kiss on the back of it. 

Smiling at him you were about to speak when you heard a familiar song. Your eyes widened at you looked at the tv. Recognizing the beginning scene you turned towards Wanda who looked over at you.

“I hate you” you said seriously, to which she smiled at.

Steve glanced between the two of you and the tv before the title screen came up “It?” he asked curiously.

Wanda chuckled “Horror Movie. Clowns. y/n hates clowns”

He looked at you, seeing the nervous look on your face “I was avoiding watching this. It’s the remake” you said leaning back.

As everyone else came back in, including Tony, they were all excited for the movie. While you absentmindedly squeezed Steves hand. 

Glancing down at it he smiled lightly before he leaned closer to you “Is it really that bad?” you just nodded your head.

About halfway through the movie you were slouched down practically hiding behind Steve, who also had a wide-eyes gaze as he watched the movie. His hand intertwined with yours. But as this point he wasn’t sure if he was holding to make you feel better, or himself. Every jump scare causing you to hide your head behind his shoulder.

When the movie ended you sighed in relief as everyone started talking excitedly about it you spoke with an exhausted voice “I hated it”

This lead everyone to start laughing at you. Slowly everyone started dispersing, taking their pillows and blankets with them. Steve watched as you didn’t move from your spot. “You alright?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna sleep for a week. That’s what happened when I watched the original when I was little” you said while sitting up.

Steve smiled at you before leaning in and kissing your temple “I think you’ll be fine” you smiled lightly as you looked over at him.

“You gonna tell me what this is about now?” you asked lifting both of your hands.

Smiling, he stood up, pulling you with him. Leading you to the quiet balcony he stared off towards the city for a moment before speaking. 

“I saw you with the new security guard this morning. When he started flirting with you..I got jealous. And I, wanted to be able to go up to him and tell him that you were taken. I wanted everyone to know. But then I realized that I was the reason that they didn’t, so I decided that I wanted to change that” 

He turned towards you before taking a step closer. Gently he took your face in his hands before kissing you. You placed your hands on his chest and leaned into the kiss. Slowly his hands moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss.

After pulling away you smiled at each other as you looked into his eyes “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“That guard wasn’t flirting with me. He was my cousin. He was thanking me for helping him get the job here” you said as your smile widened.

After a moment of realization Steve chuckled as he looked down at his feet embarrassed “Well, remind me to thank him later, he’s the reason I manned up”

Chuckling you kissed him lightly on the lips “I’ll make sure to do that” he smiled at you before kissing you again.

Requested by anon

I chose ‘IT’ since it’s really popular right now, I’ve been debating whether or not I want to watch it. I absolutely HATED the original, and it did actually give me nightmares. 

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers prompt #avengers #avengers oneshot #the avengers #the avengers x reader #the avengers oneshot #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america oneshot #captain america prompt #marvel #marvel oneshot #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #oneshot #one shot #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans oneshot #chris evans imagine #prompt #drabble #prompt request

[qualiteadnd]

One Small Favor

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

While traveling the countryside, the party is implored by a strange wizard to check in on a bit of land purchased from an even stranger old friend.

The village of Longsaddle was the latest stop for Keros, Bonu, and Grumbar as they tried to figure out what to do now that their plans in Waterdeep had gone belly up. The village was welcoming enough and they chose to spend a night at the inn rather than push on.

While Grumbar drank through a tab with the bar, Keros and Bonu hit it off with a performer by the name of Audulio. He was looking to hit the road and so they offered him a spot in their company to which he readily agreed. Audulio was a free spirit, however, and had trouble sticking with one group for too long. But company, he said, was what made the travels exciting and inspired his tunes.

The next morning, they milled about the Longsaddle market, stocking up on supplies and useless trinkets — namely, a small wooden duck that Keros figured Bonu would appreciate. Just before they were to head out they heard a voice shout, “You there! Yes, you with the bows and axes, come here!”

The statue in the center of the village had animated, to the surprise of literally none of the villagers. Longsaddle, it appeared, was home to a family of eccentric wizards and one of them needed their assistance. Tristan Harpell, as the statue introduced himself, had a job that needed doing and the party of four seemed enough like a trustworthy sort — the wizards were known to be eccentric, not wise. If they could just pop down the way and check on an investment of his, a small favor really, he’d pay them each 200 gold. They all readily agreed.

But with wizards, they’d learn, it was best to read the fine print.

An enchanted piece of parchment that soared towards them from the direction of the Harpell tower and smacked into Grumbar’s face. It flopped into his hands and unfolded itself into an old looking map. Tristan’s scribbling script began to appear before their eyes with the details of their job. The village of Silverleaf that he wanted them to check in on seemed like a three day travel down the main road.

Simple enough, they gathered their things and began to head out when one more surprise came at them. Carter, as the map was called, could speak. And he was quite excited to be assisting the party in assisting his master. If they had any questions at all, he would be happy to help!

The journey was uneventful, but along the way Carter filled in the blanks Tristan had slacked on. Silverleaf was a small village with a strange magical orchard where all the trees had, correct, silver leaves. Tristan had purchased the deed to the land from an old girlfriend of sorts, Freya Doomstaff.

It wasn’t that Tristan didn’t trust Freya, it was just that the deal on the land seemed a little too good to be true and an assistant he’d sent to check on the property hadn’t returned in a week. “So really, it’s so nice of you to be helping Master Harpell like this!”

When they arrived at the village, everything seemed normal enough, even the glittering orchard in the distance. However, it was utterly abandoned.

Some poking around the homes, many of which were left open, led to a smell of rot that permeated from the kitchens. It appeared as though one day all of Silverleaf had simply vanished. A rummage through the kitchens also uncovered a bottle of elvish wine yet uncorked that Grumbar decided to “save” before it too went to waste. Deciding it was best to leave Grumbar to the bottle for the time being, Keros, Bonu, and Audulio pressed on towards the orchard.

Though a little unkempt and definitely more silver than most, the orchard seemed normal enough. That is, except for the weird sparks shooting up from the picnic table like a flare and a hat seemingly abandoned on the path. Keros pushed the gate open and the three went in to investigate.

They got maybe four steps in before being struck by a severe sense of vertigo. And when it cleared, everything was big. Everything except them. The abandoned hat on the orchard path was the size of a large cart and they couldn’t even see the picnic table through the forest of grass.

From beneath the hat, four shrunken bugbears lept at them and a scuffle ensued. Two were taken care of with ease. However, they were not so alone in the orchard and their magics caught the attention of a raven. Unaffected by whatever magic was in the orchard, the bird seemed to be the size of a dragon. They watched in horror and fascination as it grabbed one of the remaining bugbears and swallowed it whole.

“What are you doing out in the open? You’re going to get yourselves killed! Come here, quickly!” From the grass, a tiny elven woman beckoned to them and the trio quickly ran to her as the raven chased down the last of the bugbears.

Saorse, as the elf introduced herself, was glad to see the adventurers. She led them through the maze of grass to an abandoned picnic basket. A twine rope was lowered from the top at her knocking and the four of them climbed inside. The picnic basket had been turned into a sanctuary for shrunken elves, the missing inhabitants of Silverleaf.

The elves were distressed to hear that the entire village had been abandoned, as not everyone could be accounted for in the basket. “We’re farming folk, we care for the orchard, we’re not equipped to deal with this kind of magic. But if you three could find that damn wizard, I bet she could fix this. She was experimenting in the orchard when all of this started.”

After a quick rest with the elves, and hearing more of their complaints of their former-landlord Freya Doomstaff, the party set out again with some guidance from Saorse.

Along the way they found a normal sized ring embedded in the dirt, which they had Carter take note of for later, and avoided the brief rain shower that tried to drown them by diving into a rabbit hole. Refusing to fight the rather territorial mama rabbit within, Audulio cast Sleep on the creature and they huddled at the entrance to wait for the rain to pass before pressing on.

Some echoing singing caught their attention and they followed the source to a tipped over wine bottle. Inside, was a rather soggy and drunk looking human fellow by the name of Darrack Dunhill. “This is Master Harpell’s assistant!” Carter supplied eagerly.

To which Darrack quickly protested, “Oh no –hic– I quit. This is the –hic– last time he nearly gets me –hic– killed. I’m done. A bug tried to eat me last night. A –hic-ing bug!” Deciding the bottle was perhaps a safe place for Darrack for the time being, they quickly left him to his singing and moved on.

Carter’s navigational magic informed them the stream between them and the sparking picnic table had a few options for crossing: the bridge, open and clear, made them easy prey for any watching ravens; a branch precariously reaching across the stream; or they could try to brave the currents with a swim.

Keros, a triton with quite the affinity for water, decided on a fourth option. They found a good sturdy leaf to make a boat out of and he dumped his things in alongside Audulio and Bonu. Finding makeshift paddles, Bonu and Audulio helped to steer the leaf as Keros powered it with some good fish swimming. Two looming frogs tried to make a snack of them, but Keros politely asked the frogs to move along, as they were already having a rough day. The frogs did just that, honoring even a very tiny guardian of the depths.

Shaking off the water, Keros donned the rest of his gear and they proceeded to the picnic table where the white sparks continued to fly. At the top, they found a tiny frazzled, but cheerful wizard: Freya Doomstaff. “Did Tristan send you? I knew he’d get around to it eventually.”

When asked just what in the hells was happening here, she laughed, “It’s all really a very funny story.” Though she had indeed sold Tristan the land to Silverleaf with a clause that stated she would not remove the trees from the ground, she had intended to play a little prank. “I was going to just shrink the whole orchard, you see, and scoop the trees AND the ground right up. But there was a little mistake and well… If you lads could be dears and just go get my arcane focus from that cursed bird, everything will be right as rain.”

Pointing out a nest atop the nearest tree, she explained if they could simply break the orb the raven had stolen, the whole spell would come apart. Though she absolutely refused to go with them, she cast Spiderclimb on all three of them and sent them on their way.

Getting really tired of all this tiny nonsense, the three headed off once more, hoping to reach the nest before the spell wore off. Though they were attacked by a small swarm of wasps along the way, they managed to get by with only minor injuries and leaving a pile of broken wasp wings in their wake.

That left them with the big threat: the dragon sized raven. Deciding to split the party, Audulio and Keros would play distraction while Bonu took care of the orb. Simple, easy, but also likely to get one of them killed. The best kind of plan.

Using shattering magics and tiny, sparking, needle arrows, they managed to make room for Bonu to sprint past the bird and charge the orb. Though things looked a little spicy for a moment and the orb gave Bonu some trouble, he was able to shove it off just in time.

The moment the spell broke the orchard eruptted into chaos.

Audulio, Keros, and Bonu fell out of the tree in a pile and sent the raven screeching into the distance as they reverted to their proper sizes. Across the way, Freya sat giddily on her picnic table, Darrack sat wet and drunk in a tiny wine puddle, and a bunch of elves were in an ungraceful doggy pile, topped with wicker.

Glad to see they’d managed it without looking too worse for wear, Freya snapped her fingers and a silver leaf fluttered down from the canopy in front of each of them with the Doomstaff insignia emblazoned on it. “As a show of thanks, a favor from the Doomstaff family. If you ever need a wizard, look us up.”

And then she was promptly swarmed by enraged wood elves. Laughing still, she told them to take up their complaints with their landlord, Tristan Harpell, and vanished on the spot with little more than a “Toodles!”

Picking up the ring they’d found along the way, the party finally made their own way out of the orchard. They shook off both their drunks — Darrack and Grumbar — and made their way back to Longsaddle, grateful to not be two inches high. ( Having no idea what they were talking about, Grumbar asked if they’d found some wine along the way too. )

Though Tristan was less than pleased, but not surprised, with the news of Freya’s tricks on their return, he rewarded them as promised for their one small favor.

Audulio — Human. Glamour Bard. Played by Malfrost.

Many thanks to DMs Jansen-Parks & Black for crafting this adventure!

#qdnd #swords coast #waterdeep irregulars #bonu #keros #audulio

[theowlsarenotwhattheyremembers]

Episode Five: Eastwatch

Scene One: Jaime we discover is actually some balloons, and has thereby floated in a lateral direction away from the dragon and certain capture and safely over to the other side of the river, bobbing along in his armour like a steel-plated lilo. Bronn, his bff, swam alongside him, and together the pair washed up in the still-gorgeous evening. Bronn is concerned that Jaime might be suicidally depressed, and counsels him not check out before settling his account with Bronn, which after last week is of heroic magnitude. Jaime can’t hear him because he is sensibly too terrified of dragons for other considerations.

Scene Two: Meanwhile Tyrion is pacing in horror through the still-flaming pompeiiscape that moments ago was a nice grassy plain, having thoughts which we can only presume are along the lines of the earnest moral speculation which concluded last week’s recap. The tiny, ashen remains of the defeated army trudge towards their vast and terrible new overlord, who is preening atop a small wooded hill. Daenerys delivers a speech about how she is going to not murder them, break the wheel, be the change you want to see, etc, high in concept but low in believability because the gist is serve me or be burned alive, which feels a lot like exactly like those slaver/mad king vibes which we had been wanting to get away from. Randall and Quarterback Dickon aren’t going to bend the knee so those characters bite the literal dust, mourned not for who they were, but what their deaths indicated in terms of Daenerys’ character development, i.e. bad turn.

Not the change you want to see in the world.

Scene Three: Cersei is on too sweet a eudaimonic kick to listen to depressing military facts. She reckons she can trick her way out of any inconveniences using her rage, guile n gold. Maybe she can!

Scene Four: Jon is brooding scenically on a cliff when Drogon pops by for a snuggle. Daenerys looks a bit worried

- is one of my demon fire monsters going to snack on my crush? - but it all ends in a hearty flirt. Then Jorah swings by just at the right moment for Jon to dodge a direct question about whether he’s undead or not! For some reason Jon doesn’t take the opportunity to be grateful however.

Scene Five: Bran is just tripping basically, sees ravens, gets seen by the Night King again, wakes up, yells something incoherent about ravens, the maester hurries off to send a psychedelic message to all the lords in Westeros.

Scene Six: Archmaester Broadbent is however inclined to take this missive seriously thanks to Sam?

Scene Seven: Varys and Tyrion are depressed and drinking in the throne room about Daenerys’ mad king turn, with Bran’s ravings doing nothing to lighten the mood.

Scene Eight: Jon reads that his dead little sister and brother are actually alive but will be actually undead soon so he needs to go home and join them. This is a not great plan. How about another not great plan, suggests Tyrion: go beyond the wall, sneak up on a wight, bag it, enrol it in a sort of mini-cirque de nuit and get it to perform in front of all the relevant queens until they are disturbed enough to stop the war and fight climate change?! Everyone agrees and scurries off to implement this madness aqap, even though Daenerys looks a shade triste about how her newest crush and her oldest friend are both zipping off to face desperate odds / certain death in a icy black magic hell all because she is enjoying war with Cersei too much to pause to save the world and thereby solve the hearts and minds issue, really hanging in the balance at this point, conclusively.

Scene Nine: The Northern Lords, or the Northern Bores as we might call them, after making up the anti-statecraft doomed title ‘King in the North’ and foisting it on a poor gloomy lad who after all was only trying to help, are now inventing all kinds of unreasonable stipulations associated with the role, including onerous The North Only travel restrictions. They are about to mob-elect Sansa King in the North just for sticking around and having sensible policies regarding grain and lagging, but she politely demurrs. Arya has learned so much in her brief, brutal life, but sadly not statecraft, and also not how to be awful around her sister. I know how it feels Arya, I can’t resist fighting with my sister whenever I see her like we’re thirteen again, but for christssake all we’re ruining is a family holiday, you’re ruining Sansa’s reign, the most sensible the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen.

Scene Ten: Davos and Tyrion pop down King’s Landing for some back of a fag packet diplomacy. Jaime Balloons tries to be angry with Tyrion for killing his dad and being primary advisor to his feared enemy who just incinerated his army and his newest jock chum Dickon, but the poor thing just doesn’t have the heart for it these days, and listens dumbly to Tyrion’s truce proposition.

Scene Eleven: Davos fetches Gendry, who has grown a whole lotta heart since we last saw him when he was a bit boring and scared all the time from all his then-raw traumas,  now all healed up into a peppy young thing with his dad’s lack of interest in thinking things through and leaping enthusiasm for war.

Scene Twelve: Davos does a brilliant routine on Kevin Eldon (having recently switched careers from Braavosi thesp to King’s Landing Guard One) and Guard Two, who he charms (along with the viewer at home) with gold, mock outrage and seafood viagra. Davos is holding us all in the palm of his hand and we’re licking it up until Tyrion shows up and ruins it for everyone but Gendry, whose burly young arms get to brain Eldon and Two with his lovely new warhammer.

Scene Thirteen: Cersei, blooming with power, already knows everything about the meeting with Tyrion and everything else important, is excited for Bronn’s punishment, is pregnant and is glad to let the father know in deathchill tones that further betrayals are not advised.

Scene Fourteen: Gendry, brimming with pep, introduces himself to Jon as the rightful king’s son and calls him short. What a lad! They agree to fight side by side forever / a scene or two till they get shivved by the dead. Davos is a bit frustrated about people ignoring all his longevity tips but Davos the season is almost over and the viewer at home has barely been blooded yet, we need death else we’ll switch off and go back to our yoga classes / twitter / pastel swoons / whatever other degeneracy.

Daenerys and Jon have a final flirt before he and Jorah sail off to arctic death. Will she bother rescuing them from their gallantry with her dragons?

Scene Fifteen: Sam wisely interrupts Gilly before she can complicate everything even more by finding out that Jon is actually the rightful heir to the throne because he’s the trueborn son of the previous heir, Rhaegar Targaryen, so has stronger dibs than Aunt Dany because of the patriarchy. Shut up Gilly! Sam then whips himself up into an impotent fury and quits university after stealing all the most interesting-seeming books from the library. Sam, we’ve all been there, but, again, your life is more important than mine and I am concerned that you are making poorly thought out choices. That line about reading about the achievements of better men is straight from your dad, who was wrong about everything to his dying, immolated breath, also think about the nice life Baby Sam is having in the nice warm well-defended Citadel.

Scene Sixteen: Littlefinger plays Arya, it’s very sad to watch. Why is Sansa allowing that viper to roam around Winterfell hatching plots and stoking mutinies? In the end the letter Arya found was only that one Sansa was forced to write to Robb telling him to surrender back when she was being violently abused by Joffrey, I find it hard to believe that even someone in the throes of back-at-mum-and-dad’s-house regression/trauma would let herself get worked up about it. Also you’d have liked to be able to hope that Bran, who really does know anything, could just set things straight, but he is really too fried to be helpful. Dear oh dear.

Scene Seventeen: Our band of desperadoes are already up at the wall and explaining the bad plan to Tormund, who’s a maniac so he’s obviously game. They meet up with the Hound and Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion, who are chilling in the cells in very literal terms. Everyone bickers and makes up again and heads out of one of those tunnels which have still yet to be blocked up, it’s almost as if they want an undead giant to be able to boot its way through like a halfbrick through a shoji screen.

All our named gang here apart from Tormund are, interestingly, people who have either cheated death or been brought back from the literal dead, or a wizard who brings people back from the dead, and the Lord of Light has shown a personal interest in most of them. Hmm! Off they go for some swashbuckling in the snow.

#gotcap