#once you know what this game is laying down its so blatantly obvious

[1tsjusty0u]

im just noticing the foreshadowing in apollo justices first case and oh my god its so heavy handed once you look back

[tommybaholland]

first date with their s/o

featuring: kuroo, kenma, akaashi, bokuto, nishinoya, kageyama, sugawara, and yamaguchi

kinda basic ideas but i had fun writing these so hopefully you enjoy your first date with ur fav hq boy!

kuroo would take you stargazing, most likely organically, with laying down close to each other on a blanket. he helps guide you through the constellations that he can spot, telling you a little bit about each one. it’s impressive because you never thought the night sky could tell so many stories. it was like he was reading you a book. you ask him how he knows all of it and he responds by pulling you closer, telling you he’s ‘all-knowing.’ he laughs when you shake your head before confessing, “okay, okay. i may have read up a bit on constellations beforehand but..i just wanted to romance you a bit.” his voice is low before he kisses you sweetly under the starry void. “is it working?” you enjoy yourselves so much you end up falling asleep for a bit, but he makes sure a little bit of the blanket is wrapped snug around you so you don’t get cold.

kenma might take you to a park. it may seem very casual but he doesn’t get out much and prefers to sit inside and play his games with you there with him. to him, that’s the perfect date all on its own. but he knows you like to get out every once in a while, so he figures he could as well. it means a lot to you that he would take time to unplug for a bit and lay with you in a secluded area, watching clouds. he actually really gets into trying to name the shapes of odd-looking clouds. he finds a blob shaped one that didn’t have a shape until he said it looked like a fried egg. you laugh but his intuitiveness never ceases to amaze you. he offers to walk you through a hidden path by the park. you agree and go to get up before he catches your arm and asks, “can we lay here for a few more minutes?”

akaashi considers taking you somewhere that you can admire with him, like a museum or art gallery. he eventually lands on a butterfly garden and he does not regret this decision at all. he gets to see the genuine look of joy of your face as you look around and watch the fluttering bugs. he thinks you look so cute when you try to follow several at one time, your eyes moving around quickly, making you almost dizzy. there’s so much to look at and it’s even better when it’s with your favorite pretty boy. he watches as a few butterflies will occasionally land on you, gently stretching their wings. he notes that they seem to really like you and you affirm it modestly as he moves closer to you. they flutter away as he caresses your cheek. “they’re like me. i really like you, too.” then he kisses you softly and it couldn’t be more perfect.

bokuto would take you some place where he can show off for you, so he takes you bowling. it’s not the most romantic or private spot but he enjoys being a little competitive with you. he admits that he sucks at bowling and that you’d probably beat him but he’d still try his very best. he’s amazed as ever when you hit a strike on the very first frame. he makes sure you’re paying attention in case he gets a strike and when he does, he’s just, “didja see that, babe? i got a strike! and i’m coming for ya!” he’ll try to get a kiss as a prize but you give him head pats instead and bargain that he can get one if he wins. so now he’s level 100 super determined. you end up winning both games and he decides that he’s taken enough defeat. he gets kinda slumped about it and it’s easy to see, especially when he asks what you want for winning. you tell him that even though he didn’t win, he can still have a kiss. which, in his mind, means two or three or as many as he can get out of you.

nishinoya would, without a doubt, take you to an all-you-can-eat buffet for your first outing together. maybe it’s not that special because mans will take any chance to stuff his face, but he plans it carefully enough that it lands on one of your busier days when you don’t get too many chances to take a break. it’s a bit of a risk because you can get kinda grumpy when you’re hungry, but the look on your face when he tells you where you’re going was well worth it. he pays for your entry fee and the two of you go absolutely ham, not caring what anyone thinks. and if you’re a little more conservative about what you eat, he’ll encourage you. not in a demeaning way, either. “i like the way you are and wouldn’t change anything but if you do, i hope it’s change that you can be proud of!” and afterwards you tend to your food hangovers by laying in bed (usually with him on top of you).

kageyama takes you to a rival team’s volleyball game. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little disappointed, but you cherish the time you get to spend with him as much as you can. later on he realizes that was probably a stupid move, but the fact that you stuck by him and didn’t complain makes him fall faster and harder for you. he makes sure to explain it all as best he can as he hasn’t been the best about expressing his feelings because really, he has no clue what he is doing. he tries even though he thinks he’s lost his chance so he’s shocked when you say yes. he responds by fumbling over his words when he explains that he doesn’t have anything big planned but wants to take you to a cat cafe. long story short, he feels so lucky to be able to be with someone as kind and beautiful as you.

sugawara could honestly take you anywhere because he’s such a fun-loving sweetheart. he decides to take you to karaoke which, at first, makes you a bit nervous. it’s more of group thing because at least you can casually hide and get out of singing. he offers to sing the first song and even though he knows he’s not great, he still turns it into a lot of fun. and if you’re still shy singing by yourself, he offers to do a duet with you. he picks one of those silly duet love songs and it gets you smiling right away. he’ll dance a little when you’re singing your part which ends up being more laughing and less singing. even though there’s no one else with you, it’s certainly an entertaining sight. once you’re comfortable, you end up shocking the hell out of him by rapping a song so perfectly. he’s so in awe of your duality. you spend a good few hours there, in your own little singing world. you find that another great thing about being the only ones in the small room makes for perfect (even a little spicy) kissy kissy time.

yamaguchi would pick something simple and somewhere where you can’t see the constant blush on his cheeks when he looks at you, so you go to the movies with him. he lets you choose the movie because he knows he’s not going to be paying any attention. he’d rather watch you watch the movie and how the minimal light shines against your face and in your eyes. also your cute expressions and reactions truly make his entire life. he tenses up a bit as you lean against his shoulder but finds himself craving more, cursing the armrest from separating you. he doesn’t want to be blatantly obvious about wanting you closer but lets those thoughts vanish after a few moments. he lifts it up, allowing him to wrap his arm around you as go to cuddle into his side. but first, you press a chaste kiss to his freckled cheek, silently thanking him and making him go red all over again. he ends up resting his head atop yours as he looks at the screen. he’s still not paying attention, he mind completely blank from the nice scent of your hair.

hellooooooo haikyuu night! anyone tryna request sum??

[preemshots]

johnny + the nomads lore

alright, i know this is a screenshots blog but i'm going to go ahead and start dropping some juicy lore tidbits as i dig them up. part of what i'm doing outside of just photo diarying is shard hunting, and BOY is there a lot the game likes to hide in those little shards for idiots like me who like to read so we can write unnecessarily accurate fanfiction! 

full disclosure, i know jack shit about the TTRPG/cyberpunk 2020 rulebook except what i read in the wikis. 

so here’s my lore roundup so far of everything i know about johnny joining the nomads

we know johnny likes to narrate v’s quest objectives. here’s the first mention where he says it himself: 

during the voodoo boys quest "transmission" there's a shard in the maglev tunnels beside the ice bath, presumably from brigitte's research into johnny in the first place:

okay, so the timeline is this: johnny joins the nomads after trying and failing to rescue alt. johnny hides out in the badlands for some years. then he and rogue come back to night city and nuke arasaka tower help alt escape the arasaka subnet by uploading liberator to their network once and for all.

this ultimately makes sense. in alt’s flashback, we meet santiago, who is a nomad/connected to nomads, joins rogue and johnny when they're trying to get alt back, and eventually becomes the leader of the aldecaldos. 

part of santiago’s TTRPG lore is that he, johnny, and rogue have to lay low in the badlands with nomads after they storm arasaka headquarters (i am aware the game takes many liberties with the original lore so who knows the full accuracy of anything from the original rulebooks)

ENDING spoilers: in the rogue+johnny storming AHQ ending, it's revealed that rogue has a son while they're prepping for the job. if you eavesdrop on her calling him while you're at the afterlife, you hear her tell her son to (paraphrasing here) "pull over and look at the stars", which immediately made my brain go to: nomad, badlands, santiago = dad? maybe. (santiago also canonically has a son according to the TTRPG lore)

this immediately reminded me of another interesting shard that i believe you can find in multiple locations around night city: “"what REALLY happened in arasaka tower?“

i love this dang shard. at first i thought it was just a cute conspiracy with some juicy gossip (and i love how 99% of the shards that mention johnny in this game are reminding us that he's not a real rebel, he's a poser) but it brings some interesting shit together

one: it tells us where johnny got his hands on the nukes! he and the nomads jumped a militech convoy and jacked some bombs! 

which is never directly explained, even as saburo arasaka is interrogating him shortly before using soulkiller. very nice of johnny to protect his homies like that. 

...or maybe he didn’t. saburo emphasizes that the dead don’t lie like the living do, and we don’t know what exactly arasaka did to johnny’s construct in mikoshi. 

it also explains why the obvious media narrative is that militech nuked arasaka, a nice neat political bow to the end of the fourth corpo wars, which is an entire section of the TTRPG lore that makes my eyes cross when i read it. 

it also makes the star/nomads ending extremely interesting, because i originally believed it was the ending where V’s journey deviates the most from rewalking johnny’s path... which also has weird implications if the johnny’s nomad era is being kept from v. 

(this also leads into my belief that the star ending/the devil ending are narratively two sides of the same coin, but that’s a WHOLE ANOTHER POST for another day.)

TWO, just straight up the fact that they turned the raid where they actually obtained the nukes into an action flick BD that pretty much ANYONE could watch. who the hell was doing that?? 

well, who else other than the guy who johnny (optionally) punched the shit out of for filming alt's death: thompson, media guy, and according to rogue, “bad luck”. because you know, recording your crimes is straight up evidence that can be used against you.

during the alt flashback we meet thompson, and just after that in cyberspace before meeting alt, johnny tells v that he has no idea what happened to him and that they never worked together again. 

oh, johnny, you lying bastard man

this is blatantly untrue, and if V even had two braincells and better memory than a goldfish they'd know this--in the first flashback sequence where johnny and rogue nuke arasaka tower, thompson is on the comms as they ride the AV towards AHQ, questioning their plans and use of violence. 

which leaves me with some questions, like where the fuck is thompson, why does johnny keep lying about this, why doesn't johnny say almost anything about how you interact with the aldecaldo clan nonstop throughout the game when he himself may have been a member of the family for some time?? is he continuing to protect the nomad clan that saved his ass? we know that a lot of his flashbacks are unreliable at best, that johnny changes shit up as desired when presenting V with his memories.

in 2077, you can also find that there’s a remake of “badlands raid” in the shard “new release braindances” that is pretty much everywhere. that shard doesn’t add much, but does mention something along the lines of “many people don’t know the ending of the original” which probably means johnny punched thompson out for filming again, or something. 

my running theories: rogue ditched santiago and the aldecaldos with johnny and thompson to nuke arasaka tower, and when johnny died she was stuck looking for (heavily implied by johnny here:) corpo sellout ways to survive.

adam smasher obviously has something to do with this since johnny/rogue's vendetta against the guy isn't entirely clear beyond the smokescreen of "he killed johnny and he sucks". i have done 0 research into this though i'm tired of typing okay

i obviously cannot be certain i have found everything related to this in the game as i’m not even done with this playthrough where i’m trying to pay attention, but i hope this is fun for someone else to dig into. 

enjoy, fellow silverhand freaks

EDIT: additional findings

ALRIGHT I HAVE DONE MORE DIGGING AND I AM BACK WITH MORE NOMAD/JOHNNY FINDINGS. these ones are kind of a bummer but VERY interesting.

there’s a shard called “excerpts from a history of the nomads by bb pires” that goes into detail about how nomads came to be

there’s an interesting quote in it: It's hard to imagine a group less inclined to wandering than farmers, but in fact they were the ones who sparked the age of nomads. Natural catastrophes, crops ravaged by bioplagues, armed conflicts and martial law allowing corporations to speculate and privatize land - all this forced them into a life on the road.

when you ask johnny why he wants to take down arasaka, he begins by referencing this himself!!

it’s a little awkward to imagine a nomad V doesn’t also know what he’s referencing, but hey, V is the fool because we are as players and that’s only one life path... so sure.

johnny also has unique dialogue during this scene about a nomad origin V, telling them that he’s been trying to understand how V thinks, and came to the conclusion that “their family was a crutch” and essentially made them stupid because they always had a safety net (lmao johnny calling v privileged basically)

BUT this also may reference why johnny would find it confusing as hell that V doesn’t immediately share the views he does when nomads, in terms of values, seem to be more aligned with johnny than V is. but once again V is the fool for a reason and this is all my own speculation so YOU KNOW.

MORE IMPORTANTLY, at the end of chippin’ in, when you ask johnny what he meant by letting down his friends... santiago is named directly

i thought this was interesting since the only glimpse of their relationship that we get is seeing johnny meeting santiago via the alt flashback for the first time.

so now it’s obvious that while johnny and rogue were with the nomads their friendship developed, and johnny went on to disappoint santiago in some way by being his normal dickhead self

but HOW? how did he disappoint santiago? is santiago even still alive?? did smasher kill santiago and is this why rogue mentions during chippin’ in that she wants smasher to “settle a score” moreso than avenge johnny??

the only additional hints i have are from this shard, which you can find at the aldecaldos camp: “nomads at ground zero”

i’m just gonna transcribe here and bold for emphasis:

It was no secret that Night Corp offered generous pay and, in some cases, free cyberware and biomonitor upgrades to anyone willing to help clean up the crater of radioactive rubble at AHQ ground zero. Some firsthand accounts recall the incessant ticking of Geiger counters, like the loud buzz of cicadas in summer. In retrospect, we can only guess how many "crater cleaners" lost their lives to radiation sickness shortly thereafter. Both the city government and Night Corp have claimed casualties were kept to a minimum, while providing no official statistics to substantiate the claim. That being said, they have never been under pressure to release such figures. After all, most rescue, engineering, and rubble cleanup teams were not local Night Citizens, but nomads. Surprised you didn't know? Don't be. It is a fact many history courses tend to overlook. The city employed hundreds of nomad mercenaries, primarily from clans in Aldecaldo nation. These nomads were hungry for gainful work and the city needed experts who were not only experienced but brave enough to knowingly put their lives on the line - all so Arasaka could one day erect another tower in its place. But history is not without its sense of irony. These nomads, who so deliberately live outside our so-called "system," came to its very rescue. Not for the first time. And not for the last.

a main theme we find in this game is the idea that the system of corps and exploitation cannot be stopped by grandiose rebellious gestures--no amount of samurai songs, assassinating mayors, or even planting nukes in towers will change things. yet johnny, his friends and mercs at atlantis in the 2020s, including rogue, chose to rebel any way they could, thinking it better than not. johnny criticizes her lack of rebellious spirit CONSTANTLY in 2077.

but ultimately, johnny, trapped in mikoshi, didn’t get to see the outcome of what detonating the AHQ nukes did to night city’s fragile ecosystem. rogue, however, did--and likely watched their former allies, the aldecaldos, be forced to take dangerous work at AHQ’s ground zero (from lack of other opportunities as detailed in this shard), then die from radiation sickness throughout the following decades, all as a result of what she and johnny did to try and fight the system. and she also watched all the former mercenaries of atlantis be hunted down by arasaka.

so rogue sees firsthand what the cost of rebellion is and johnny doesn’t. and nomads, considered the most free of any of the factions we encounter in the game, are the cost.

[youngbloodlisk]

I Love You // Lee Hyunjae

request: "May I request for a fluffy scenario fic where you're dating hyunjae and his ex gf came back to look for him and you lost confident?"

- fluff

- almost angst bc of the nature of the scenario but i tried to keep it to a minimum

- screw off ex gf!!

- i'm not very proud of this, i'm sorry anon, i promise i tried my very best for you :(

- but thank you for being my first ever request, you made my week

- you take care too!!

- i hope this is good enough for you, lovely <33

- look at the beautiful angel in this photo

Hyunjae interrupts the movie dialogue with his own question.

"What do you think of the movie so far?"

"It's... okay... what do you think?"

"I hate it." Hyunjae is a lot more blunt about his opinion.

"Me too. It's awful." I pull myself up off of my boyfriend's chest so he can grab the remote from the table and bring the piece of terrible cinematography to an end.

"Well..." He twirls the small remote in his hand and purses his lips. "What now? We didn't have a Plan B. Although, that would have been a good idea."

"It's pretty late, it might be smarter for you to just go home instead of starting something new. Don't you have schedules tomorrow?"

"Yeah, a couple." Hyunjae pouts and lays his head on my lap. "But I don't wanna leave you yet..."

I play with his hair and we sit in peaceful, content silence for a few minutes. It's only interrupted by the ding of Hyunjae's text tone.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and my eyes catch the name above the message.

"I thought your ex wasn't gonna text you anymore."

"She's a trainee, she needs to ask questions sometimes." Hyunjae begins to type a response to her question, which is probably extremely obvious. They always are.

"Can't she send her flirting to someone else's boyfriend?"

"She doesn't flirt." Hyunjae notices my hands leave his hair and he sits up, closing his phone and looking at me with concern. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll ask her to direct her questions to someone else. Would that be better?" He takes my hand.

"Hyunjae, I don't wanna try to tell you who you can and can't talk to, I just-"

"It's okay, baby. If it bothers you that much, I'll tell her to stop. Okay?"

I crack a small smile and Hyunjae pulls me into a hug. The embrace of his warm arms makes me forget all about her, even just for a moment.

-----------

I crack the door open and peek inside the practice room.

The boys are panting and gulping down water, having just finished another run through.

Haknyeon is the first to notice me, waving for me to come in.

"Hey guys, I brought celebratory lunch! Congratulations on your comeback soon, it's gonna be stellar." I set down the bag full of eleven plastic food boxes, each one slightly different in taste and each labeled with a specific member's name.

They let out some cheers and thank you's as they each go to find their own box.

Juyeon fakes a gag when he notices the heart written next to Hyunjae's name on his box, causing me to look around for my boyfriend.

One by one, I identify each of the members of The Boyz.

Juyeon is right next to me.

Sangyeon and Chanhee are playing cards while they eat.

Sunwoo, Kevin, and Changmin are goofing off together.

Eric and Jacob are both looking at their phones while listening to Younghoon talk to them.

Haknyeon is devouring his food like it's his last meal.

Hyunjae is... nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Juyeon?" I grab his attention before he walks away from the table. "Where's Hyunjae?"

"He left about an hour before you got here. A staff member came and said someone was here to meet him. We assumed it was you, so I have no idea where he went. Sorry."

"That's alright, thanks. I'm gonna go see if I can find him before his food gets too cold." Juyeon gives me a nod and a thumbs up before heading off to join Sang and Nyu's game of cards.

I search every corner of the building that I know exists and have access to, with no sign of my boyfriend. I even ask a few staff members I bump into, but they can only tell me what Juyeon said or less.

Finally, I find Hyunjae's manager and ask him if he knows where Hyunjae ran off to.

"Hyunjae? A trainee came to treat him to lunch as a thank you. They're at the restaurant across the street. That's all he told me before he left."

I thank him kindly and my heart sinks as I realize who's on a date with my boyfriend.

I soon find myself standing outside the company, looking through the glass window walls at Hyunjae and his ex-girlfriend dining on tteokbokki and laughing at something that probably isn't even funny in the first place.

You know what else isn't funny?

Her hand laying on his hand on the table.

You know one more thing that isn't funny?

Her leg rubbing against his leg.

My mind fills with thoughts of insecurity, doubt, question, and my confidence drops by the minute.

I go back inside and head up to the practice room. I can't stand to watch her blatantly flirt with my boyfriend like this.

I enter the practice room to see the guys cleaning their boxes with disinfectant wipes once they're finished eating and putting them back in my bag for me. So thoughtful. I wonder which one of them had that idea...

Avoiding extra embarrassment sounds like a good plan, so I grab Hyunjae's lonely box of fried chicken and vegetables and put it in the bag with the clean boxes before saying my goodbyes and good luck with the rest of the practice.

Halfway down the hall, Hyunjae turns the corner. His face lights up with his beautiful smile upon seeing me.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I... I brought lunch." He looks down at the bag and sees his box through the opening. Complete with the red heart drawn by his name, surrounded by empty boxes from the other guys.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby. I just ate." His voice and face shows his apology is genuine, but I don't fully register it.

"Don't worry, you can tell me all about your date and flirting later-"

"It wasn't a date! There was no flirting-"

"Hyunjae, I'm not upset. I'm just kind of annoyed. I'm also not an idiot. I know what flirting looks like. I know what trying to get your ex-boyfriend back looks like. You dropping our plans and conversations to heed to her beck and call definitely doesn't-... doesn't... help that..." I stare at the floor as I realize I said much more than I meant to, and it doesn't take Hyunjae long to understand what the real problem is.

"Hey, look at me." I lift my head just enough to meet his eyes and he takes my free hand in his. "I broke up with her for a reason. I don't love her, and I don't plan to go back to her. Ever. I don't think anyone in the world could ever treat me as well as you do, be as beautiful as you, be as funny as you, be as perfect as you in any way." My eyes drift away from his, and he holds my chin up to face him. "I'm all yours. I..." He hesitated before his last statement. "I love you."

My eyes widen and my lips part in a small gasp.

"You just said... We've never said..."

"I know." He nods rapidly and panic begins to set into his eyes. "I know that was really sudden and you absolutely don't have to say it if you don't want to, I just-"

"I love you too, Hyunjae." My smile grows involuntarily, and his smile reappears at the sight of mine.

Hyunjae pulls me closer and places a soft, sweet kiss on my lips.

We're both absolutely giddy, like two kindergarteners who just got "married" on the playground during recess.

His hand rests on my neck and his thumb slowly rubs my skin. It's a small but beautiful touch.

Our kiss is only interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind me.

We pull apart to see Eric standing there with one of the plastic food boxes.

"Kevin forgot to put his box in the bag. Sorry..." My cheeks resemble tomatoes and I recognize that his apologetic statement is for both Kevin forgetting his box and for interrupting the moment.

"Thanks, Eric." I take the box from him, and with a small nod, Eric hurries back to the practice room.

I turn to my boyfriend, shoving the box into the bag with all its friends.

Hyunjae's face is also beet red, and his smile has turned shy.

"I'll see you at your place tonight?" He simply asks.

"Yeah. I'll put your food in the fridge for you."

His eyes are full of something I've never seen before. Something beautiful. Something that looks like pure bliss.

"Thank you, baby."

We part and go our separate ways after one last peck of a kiss. The moment I round that same corner Hyunjae had turned just a few moments ago, I hear jumping and excited whispers which sound a bit like...

"Yes! Yes! Yes! She said it back!"

My heart fills with love and joy.

Of course I said it back.

I love him.

[tellyouwhatilike]

This is a lil drabble based on an old prompt- I don’t even recall the prompt unfortunately :-/ its been a while! This has just been sitting in my drafts so I figured I’d let it rip. Enjöy :)

#49 Calum "I like sleeping on the floor" 

 Calum Hood was smitten. The captain of the footie team looked up at you with giant puppy dog eyes and a tiny pout on his puffy mouth. He was on his knees in front of your bed, clutching a blanket piled up in his lap and head spinning from the number of jack and cokes he'd had downstairs.

 It was another one of your brother's infamous weekly house parties, everyone from the soccer team was there plus a bunch of friends from their class. You, being in the class below them, preferred to stay upstairs most times where you felt safe from all of his intimidatingly cute 6 foot drunk athlete friends. One in particular always asked for you, however. And when he was denied access to the information, he always took it upon himself to wander upstairs on a false "snack run" until he made it to your door with a small knock. Tonight, he was a little less quiet and a little more needy than he usually presented himself outside of her bedroom. 

"Why are you always up here all alone?" He asked in a whiny voice, bracing his arm on the doorway so he wouldn't topple over in his whiskey induced stupor. 

"I'm studying" you said with a small smile, growing used to his drop-by's. "You should come downstairs" he piped, eyes widening and cheeks flushing after giving you a full length once over in your little sleep shorts and baggy Zeppelin t shirt. 

"I don't really know anyone down there, id rather study" you chuckled and crossed your arms self consciously. 

"Well then can I studsy- study with you?" He fumbled for his words, a lopsided grin engulfing his face. 

"You aren't even taking the same classes" you dismissed him with a laugh. He pretended to sneak in, crouching down and making himself small as he walked passed you and plopped down onto your bed. 

"I like to study" he pointed out with a giggle while you turned to face him, a sleepy grin on his lips. You shut the door behind him at the risk of your brother or one of their friends catching him on your bed and getting the wrong idea. You had a bit of a crush on the lanky captain, but who in your school didn't? You imagined he snuck his way into plenty of other girl's rooms on Saturday nights as well and always deemed yourself unspecific. He patted the space next to him for you to come over and sit side by side. 

"You're inviting me on my bed? How sweet" you said dryly with a small smile. 

"You're so pretty," he ignored your comment and and rubbed the spot next to him dreamily "This blanket is so soft, where'd you get this?" You watched him, amused. 

"Calum, what are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be playing beer pong downstairs or something?" he was the reigning champ of beer pong, he had a legacy he'd most definitely be carrying with him to uni. 

"Id rather be with you" he said, blankly staring and blatantly honest with pungent alcoholic vapor falling from his lips. You nodded slowly while trying not to let the smile overtake all of your features. He always wanted to be around you, this was a recurring theme every weekend at your brother's parties. He would search you out in a house full of people just to have a similar conversation and giggle at your accusations of him being like a puppy at your door. 

"Cal, you do this every weekend. What's the deal" you asked, sighing softly and taking a seat next to him. He blinked a couple times and turned to face you.

"I like you" he breathed. "Like a lot," he continued, "Your brother would skin me alive if he heard me say that" he chuckled and then made a horrified expression when he began to ponder which weapon he'd use to perform the act. 

"You like a lot of girls Calum" you whispered, nudging his shoulder with yours. 

"Not like you" he sighed. 

"I like that your favorite band is my favorite band and your cute little nose and how you always put a blanket on me when I fall asleep" he looked down at his fiddling hands. 

"I'm drunk" he stated as he second guessed himself. 

"Yeah" you hummed into the air between the two of you. You spent the next hour just talking, picking his brain as it was wide open and vulnerable for you to explore without his filter activated. He was content to just be in your presence, hearing your quiet laughs and feeling the weight of your body next to him, half laying on the bed staring at the ceiling while he told you a silly story about the team's game the night before. When you glanced at the clock and it read "2:42" in bright green lights, you decided it were time to call it a night. 

"Calum it's really late" you whispered, sitting up and gazing at the sleepy boy who was now half curled up on the foot of your bed, limbs spilling off the sides. 

"No" he whined. 

You chuckled softly, “It wasn’t a question.”

"Can't get up, too comfy" he smiled as he nuzzled his head into your blanket with closed eyes. He looked adorable and you were having a hard time saying no let alone anything. 

"Calum, my bed isn't big enough to fit the two of us, you'll have to go see if the couch downstairs is free" you tried and a confused expression waved across his features. 

"We can fit" he claimed. Your twin sized bed was barely big enough to fit yourself, let alone another 6 ft human who would be dangling off of the bed without a doubt. So he finally stood up shakily, dropping to the floor gently and bringing the blanket with him. 

"I'll sleep here" he groaned with a cheeky smile. 

"No way, you'll mess your back up! I'm sure there's a spot downstairs" you tried again. 

"I like sleeping on the floor!" He stated like it was the most obvious fact ever, with his huge round eyes gazing up at you like a tired child. He just wanted to wake up near you, he'd prefer to hold you, but being close to you was all he could ever ask for.

[cavendish-dakota-central]

Inspired by:

I got extremely carried away shaping Heinz into a hero and even more determining what circumstanced could possibly require Perry to need saving X)

Also I interpreted this as an Owca Files style mission and wrote it as an all!human au so I hope you like it

Thanks for this idea, it was a lot of fun to write.

-

Out of everyone on Owca's team, Perry was by far the most proactive. He had a certain something within him that demanded he take charge. Not that it was bad, in fact- leadership was his strongest attribute.

He had been slow to warm to his teammates, but now that he understood each of them as individuals, he had become fiercely loyal to them as a team. They often warmly joked that Perry's instinct to protect kept them the safest agents in Owca, even accounting for Heinz's -inator mishaps.

Perry was always the first in and the last out.

Lately, Heinz was working on laying off on the (often explosive) gadgets and learning to trust his OWN instincts- per Owca's request.

At first, it was incredibly difficult for him. Heinz had learned early on in his life that his instincts weren't very good at all. They caused him to act without thinking and his tendency to ramble often got the better of him. People didn't typically like those qualities, and he felt he had worked too hard to mess up his shot with Owca now.

Nevertheless, he had decided to try it. Perry's faith in him made Heinz want to try and to become better.

It was very nearly his worst mistake yet.

The team had run into a warehouse, blind. Perry had raced in ahead of the others to make sure the area was safe to enter.

The team was on the trail of a dangerous villain whom they'd been chasing through the city for the last several days.

This villain they were chasing was someone so dastardly, and who ignored the evil code so blatantly, that even Love Muffin had exiled him. He, in short, enjoyed overriding the minds of other evil scientists and using them as pawns in his twisted game. He worked them to the brink of exhaustion, forcing them to build him powerful weapons. Now that they finally found him, there was no time to waste.

The team of five sneakily lept in through a window in the roof, but the moment their feet hit the floor, the room began to fill with a masking smoke. It was still early evening outside, but the sunlight couldn't reach into the windowless room. In seconds, the agents found themselves unable to see their own feet through the thick mist.

"Perry?! Maggie?!" Heinz called for his teammates. He heard the sharp voice of Maggie calling back 'Here!' and a relieved bit of laughter from Harry, the pair barely visible to his left. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he quickly recognized Karen's sauve but unconcerned figure just over his right shoulder.

"Alright, that just leaves Perry," he commented, troubled not to have heard from him yet. He tried to push away the uneasy feeling. After all, he was sure Perry was plugging the source of the fog.

He felt his theory had been confirmed as the fog began to clear and he saw the familiar, well-dressed man standing just across the room. His bright teal shirt and brown vest were easy to see through the dissipating clouds.

But there was something amiss about him.

Perry abruptly began walking towards them- but his pace wasn't right. His body was too stiff and the orange shoes Heinz occasionally mocked him for wearing weren't slapping against the ground in the usual way he had grown accustomed to.

"Uh... everyone?" He grabbed the team's attention. Maggie and Harry turned to him and Karen even spared him a glance, "Take a step back. Mmmmm... maybe two."

His gaze stayed fearfully transfixed on Perry.

The agent was closing in. The gentle gleam in his blue-green eye missing, leaving them lackluster.

"Hey, Perry," Heinz chuckled nervously, "how are you! Did you happen to get a haircut or something because I could swear that-"

"His hat!" Maggie suddenly called out.

The band around Perry's hat was a different color- that was the difference Heinz had picked up on. Owca agents had bands around their hats with a unique identification sown into them. Instead of his usual brown-red band, a completely black ribbon was in its place. And the band was most likely the device now taking over Perry's volition.

Karen suddenly snapped to attention, her fists raised and green eyes narrowed.

Heinz tried to mirror her, but he already knew he was at a loss. He didn't have any gadgets left on him, per Perry's recommendation, and he certainly couldn't win at hand to hand combat. Years of experience had proven that much to be true.

"Oh, of all the times to be a good guy. I spend YEARS creating traps and -inators to take this guy down and then the ONE TIME I NEED THEM-" he ended with a defeated sigh. He quickly settled on a different approach,

"Perry, now hold on a minute! We're your friends!"

The other agents faltered as well, exchanging indecisive looks. Not only did none of them want to fight their friend, but none of them wanted to fight Owca's number one agent. Heinz had fought Perry for YEARS before joining Owca and had won roughly once out of hundreds of battles. Even with four of them, those weren't excellent odds. They didn't want to hurt him either.

Their fearful eyes must have ignited something in their team leader because suddenly Perry stopped.

The control seemed to let him go. His bright eyes widened and looked over the four in unprecedented, overwhelming confusion.

"You're going to be okay!" Heinz promised, reaching out with one shaky hand.

For a moment Perry looked relieved, like he had woken up from a terrible dream to find reality untouched. He took a step forwards and then winced, freezing in place immediately. His kind smile twisted into an agonizing grimace. His worn, skilled fingers clamped down on either side of his head and in a single agonizing moment, he collapsed limply onto the cold floor.

"Perry!"

Heinz raced to him, but the sight of a new figure appearing out of the subsiding fog stopped him. The newcomer was tall and elegant looking. He wore a perfectly tailored white suit and held a shining remote in one well-manicured hand.

"He's a strong one, I'll admit," the man's voice hummed in a cold, uncaring tone. He looked down his nose at Perry and turned the dial on his remote.

Perry quickly climbed back to his feet, standing at attention, his eyes once again empty. It felt like a knife through Heinz's chest to have Perry's eyes look right through him.

The ex-evil scientist faltered. The other agents prepared themselves, squaring up for a fight, but Heinz did no such thing. He simply took a determined step forwards.

"Let him go!" Maggie demanded.

"You think he's strong, just wait until we get our hands on you!" Heinz threatened through gritted teeth.

The man only laughed with a lightheartedness that conveyed nothing more than mockery,

"You won't- get a hand on me that is. Not as long as I have him. Consider him my hostage."

"What would he want he want us to do?" Maggie asked Heinz.

The scientist's provoked rage suddenly washed away as his teammates looked to him expectantly. It was true, Heinz knew Perry the best- but he didn't think like him. He didn't have Perry's skill or experience as a good guy. He wasn't naturally sharp-witted or focused. And he certainly didn't have Perry's instinct to know what to do....

All at once, Heinz realized something more. It was true, he had been failing to live up to who Perry believed he could become- but that was okay. He did have instincts, they were just different. His instinct was to adapt, and that took failing before he could succeed.

Heinz might not know what to do when it came to fighting or making a plan, but years of hardship had taught him that he could always find a solution.

What's more, he had something no other agent did. He had a little bit of evil helping him find his direction. And it was because of that evil that he hadn't ENTIRELY listened to Perry's advice. He still had a gadget or two left on him and that was all he needed. He just had to get creative.

Heinz cleared his voice and stepped forwards confidently.

"I have to say, it looks like you've got us. I mean, taking one of our own to use against us?" Heinz gave a falsely wholehearted slow-clap and let it ring through the empty room, "That's just not something just ANYONE can accomplish."

"Th...thank you?" The man in white answered with a baffled head tilt.

Heinz continued, gaining traction, "As an ex-member of Love Muffin I can't AGREE with your methods per se, but as a scientist of my own, I just have to know how you do it before you lock us away or enslave us for your own schemes. And anyways, you must have some triumphant dialogue planned!"

"I... I suppose." The mind-controller replied, "I've been waiting for the right nemesis but I have been dying to explain."

"Explain away!" Heinz insisted energetically. He slowly approached the figure and his army of mind-controlled guards as he spoke. He passed Perry without sparing him a glance.

He continued, trying not to let his voice waver,

"I mean, something to transmit that kind of signal to so many people would need to be incredibly powerful, but you would also need to keep it near you at all times," Heinz prodded.

"Well, I won't go into the details," the evil-doer blushed at another taking an interest in his work, "but it's quite simple really. I keep it all powered through my watch right here!" He held up his wrist. On it, was a massive chunk of metal with numerous controls all over it, "I am able to control the minds of each of my subjects with the simple press of a button!"

"Well it's a shame I won't be able to learn more before the obvious, taking over the tri-state-area and all that fuss," Heinz replied, acting as disappointed as possible by the prospect. Fear was gnawing at his chest but he refused to give in. He couldn't afford to if he wanted this plan to succeed.

He confidently reached out for a handshake and- caught up in the moment- the villain did the same.

Heinz grabbed he man's hand tightly and, with his other, produced a small, handheld -inator out from his pocket.

The -inator didn't have much of a name nor did it function at all like it was supposed to. Heinz hadn't NECESSARILY counted it as a gadget because it wasn't intended for Owca work nor evil. It was, simply, SUPPOSED to recharge the team's communications devices. However, it didn't work yet and instead, one blast from it had overheated Perry's phone so greatly that it melted on the spot just a few days prior. Perry had blatantly shunned him for several hours afterwards, so the incident was still fresh in the scientist's mind.

Sure enough, Heinz's scheme worked perfectly. The moment the -inator's blast connected with the bracelet, it began to overheat.

"Ah! Hot!" The villain immediately panicked. He unlatched the watch and tossed it to the ground. He rubbed his wrist with his other hand, relieved, and watched the bracelet crackled and spark until it became a puddle of half-melted medal.

The evil man let out a sigh of relief before he opened his eyes once more to see a cunning smile beaming away on his enemy's face.

"Oh.... damn...." he realized.

Heinz punched him square in the jaw, knocking him out cold.

The guards who had been under the villain's control immediately became aware of their surroundings and asked each other what was going on to little avail.

By the time Heinz made it back to his team, Harry was holding a barely conscious Perry upright. The black band fell from his hat and softly to the floor.

Karen aggressively smashed it under her boot.

Heinz ignored everything happening around him and focused on the gently-opening blue eyes of a particular secret agent. His long, boney fingers carefully cupped under Perry's sharp square jaw.

"Are you okay?"

Perry gave a weak thumbs up with one hand and then shakily stepped up to throw his arms over Heinz's shoulders. The scientist's long arms caught him and his tall frame leaned down to hold Perry so tightly Heinz was almost worried he would crush the smaller man. After a moment, Heinz felt Perry smile as the famous agent buried his face against his old nemesis's neck.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll stick to my gadgets from now on."

Perry gently shook with silent laughter and replied by hugging Heinz even tighter.

Heinz let out a small breath and lowered his head onto Perry's shoulder. He chuckled with relief of his own, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume you agree."

[allicekitty13]

Daughter Of The Moon: Part 2

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

It was part of her nightly routine, sneaking out to the meadow just outside the base. There was a hidden tunnel she'd found just a little over a year ago, hidden to casual onlookers behind some vines that settled over a narrow opening in the cliffs which made up the northern side of a deer trail. Only a curious soul would think to examine the rocks the way Alice had; the casual hiker was unlikely to find the hidden path. It hadn't taken long for Alice to realize she wouldn't be found here. She was never followed, and anyone who did give chase wouldn't know what to look for.

The space was truly gorgeous; to the south of the field, a line of tall cedar trees indicated the beginning of an expansive forest; to the west, the ground cut off suddenly revealing beautiful clear blue lake miles below the cliffside. She spent hours each night laying in the wildflowers making up the majority of the clearing or sitting at the edge of the cliffs as she let her legs swing back and forth in the wind. It was a little sad, as she frequently thought, that no one other than herself would ever experience the breathtaking view.

It was only within the past few months the thought occurred to her that this was a place she'd be able to test the powers she inevitably held. She'd spent quite a bit of time in the library under the guise of protective research, reading up on everything she could get her hands on about the way witches utilized their power. She'd told the librarian, an ordinary woman named Bella, that with her dismal grades, she should, at the very least, know what to look out for on the field.

There wasn't much helpful information; after all, the library only stocked books on defeating witches, not training them. But she'd managed to piece together a few basic offensive spells. Unfortunately, little progress had been made. She'd failed miserably at most charms, only managing limited results at a select few of them. The day she'd produced a small flame from the tip of her index finger had been encouraging. While it filled her with glee, it did make her wish there was someone out there who might be able to guide her. Clearly, she'd missed a few pieces when compiling the jigsaw puzzle of limited information.

Alice had recently put together what she believed to be a freezing spell; this was what she had been working on that night when she was approached by a strange man who strode into the meadow from the tree line. He was tall and bulky, towering over her small form. His imposing figure, combined with his being a complete stranger, should have caused her to flee. Yet, the friendly lopsided smile he shot Alice's way as he plopped down next to her in the field was strangely comforting. Although fear and shock bubbled inside her being at seeing another soul inside the hidden sanctuary, he'd clearly witnessed her multiple failed attempts at the spell and didn't have a knife at her throat as any hunter would have on sight. She decided, despite her reservations, to take her chances allowing him to watch in silence.

Shortly after his approach and observing her frustration as she unsuccessfully made a few more attempts at encasing a flower in ice, the man introduced himself in a calm, friendly tone. "Hi Alice, I'm Emmett."

Alice paused; she hadn't said a single word to the man, let alone introduced herself. With eyes full of distraught surprise, she finally allowed herself to focus on the stranger. "How... how do you know my name?"

He pointed up at one of the tree-covered hills in the distance. "Up there, it's where we live. My entire coven, it's a long trek without flying, but it's there."

"Have you known I was here the whole time?"

"Yeah," He responded a bit sheepishly. "Our coven leader wanted to give you space for a while."

"Wait..." Her racing thoughts finally caught up to the situation at hand and the insinuation of Emmett's statements, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Coven? Are you saying... you're a witch and there's more like... right here?"

"Well yeah, thought that was obvious. Here," Emmett rolled up the sleeve of his sweater as he held out his left arm. In the crook of the man's elbow rested a small black crescent moon indicating the validity of his statement. "I'm a witch, just like you."

Alice's expression turned downcast with doubt at his declaration of her power. "I'm starting to wonder if I'm actually even a witch or if this thing." She pulled her hair to the side to expose her own mark." Was just an unfortunate fluke."

Throwing his head back in laughter, Emmett fell backward into the multicolored flowers beneath him as though there were some piece of information he knew, and she didn't. "Alice, if you weren't a witch, we wouldn't be talking right now." He took a moment to right himself as Alice stared on in bewilderment. "Have you ever wondered why no one follows you here? That tunnel is magically sealed; there's no way you could get through without a witch's blood. Anyone else would only see a plain rock surface."

"Well, if that's true, I'm a shitty witch. If you've known I'm here, then you know I'm failing at all this magic stuff pretty miserably."

"Have you thought about finding someone to help train up your power? Teach you some actual spells" He pointed down at the notebook she had set out in front of her, leaning over to glance through her notes. "It looks like you're doing your best; an actual teacher, some reliable instruction, and more practice time would do wonders."

"How and who would I go to for that? You do realize where I live, don't you, if anyone found out..." She trailed off; his downcast expression indicated that he understood her meaning.

Emmett pondered her observation for a while as Alice played with the grass in silence. "You make a fair point; what if you came up to the house? We have a guy like you. He was born to hunters but managed to escape; maybe he would have some insight."

Emmett seemed so please by the suggestion, but Alice had her doubts. "Is that allowed?"

"I'll have to talk to Esme to be sure, but she's pretty big on helping out witches in need." Emmett's smile widened as he thought over a game plan so sure that his idea would be a success. "Here's what we'll do; I'll talk to her. You'll meet me here tomorrow night; if she says yes, I'll take you."

Alice pondered over the proposition wordlessly as Emmett stared at her in anticipation, clearly an excitable man. She really didn't have much to lose by accepting the offer; at best, she would meet more people like her. People who might actually be able to help. At worst, this 'Esme' who she assumed to be the leader of Emmett's coven, declined the offer. A broad smile crossed her face as she nodded gleefully and exclaimed, "Okay, tomorrow night!"

Too excited to practice anymore, Alice immediately packed up her belongings, placing the notebook full of half-formed spells back into the worn-out backpack she kept in the secret meadow. It was safer to collect information mentally and transfer it to a journal in secluded safety. With a smile and assurances to Emmett that she would, in fact, return the next night, Alice made her way out of the clearing. She was overflowing with optimism; there were others nearby like her. People who might be able to help, there was even someone with similar life experiences. Someone who might be able to help her. For once, since that moon had surfaced behind her ear, she felt hope.

It had been hard to focus at school the next day; excitement and nervousness fought for control of her emotional state. The idea of meeting this coven had her on edge with glee; at moments, a smile graced her face in stark contrast to the usual uneasy frown she wore. This resulted in curious looks from the fellow students who'd grown used to her unwelcoming attitude. In other moments anxiety took hold; it was entirely possible Esme wouldn't feel comfortable allowing a hunter into her home. Permitting Alice to take solace in the meadow was one thing; it would be another completely to invite the daughter of their biggest adversary into her home.

Being on the outs with Riley hadn't made the stressful day any easier; he'd granted her request to be left alone and then some. If it was his fault, she didn't know, but the student body seemed to feel as though they had a duty to pick sides between the pair; opinion was overwhelmingly in his favor. Although it was at lunch when she'd had no one to sit with for the second day in a row that Alice decided she preferred things this way. Hiding in plain sight was easier when you were being blatantly ignored. For once, no one was watching her movements; for the first time in eight years, she didn't have to choose her words carefully. It was almost peaceful.

With this new mindset, the second half of the day progressed a bit easier, allowing her to concentrate only on what may happen later that night, causing the day to seem as though it flew by at an accelerated pace. Before she knew it, the final bell was reverberating its soft chime through the halls of the academy. Alice left school with an eager smile rushing home to wait in her room until it was safe to head out.

Once the neighborhood was submerged in silence and her home once again became silent, Alice made her escape with the most care she'd ever exhibited, refusing to allow tonight of all nights be when she was caught. She finally had a chance to receive answers, to find a place me might belong. With a deep breath, she moved silently down the tree. Stepped carefully through the yard, conscious of every stick in her path, the crunch each leaf whispered as she moved, only allowing herself to break into a run the second she was out of the sight of any potential onlookers.

Arriving at the clearing that night buzzing with tentative enthusiasm, she burst through the tunnel into the peaceful meadow hoping with all her being that Emmett's coven leader had given him the all-clear. She felt as though she was soaring upon seeing him waiting leaned up against a tree with a broom in hand and a bright lopsided grin. She bounced over to him wide-eyed with glee, ready for whatever the night held in store.

Emmett mounted the broomstick, instructing her to climb on behind and hold on tightly. It would be a short trip, but she'd never ridden before, and he didn't want her falling off. Nervous but unwilling to give up on this opportunity over something as simple as flying, she did as instructed. The mode of transportation was more than a little uncomfortable, and Alice struggled to find a sitting position that wouldn't bother her during the flight as she clutched onto his biceps, her slender arms too short to wrap around his massive frame.

Broom travel was quite surreal; Alice was unsure what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been the speed causing her stomach to lurch, the sting of the wind in her face, or the blur of the trees below as they passed by rapidly. The experience was overwhelming and slightly nauseating. She closed her eyes and gripped tighter to Emmett, unconsciously digging her fingernails into his upper arms. He seemed to sense her unease proceeding to tell her about his coven, a group of nine witches. The stories took Alice's mind off the almost dreamlike event allowing her to relax, to enjoy the weightlessness and freedom of soaring through the air in the moonlight.

As they landed, she hoped someone would be able to teach her to fly. Despite the rocky start, it was an experience she wanted to repeat many times more. Emmett seemed to be able to read her thoughts, though it was more likely she wore her adoration for flying in her expression, as he commented, "Don't worry, you'll learn to do that for yourself soon enough."

Attempting to hide the blush flushing her cheeks, she began to take in her surroundings. It was an unassuming location, just a small white single story farmhouse. The structure seemed to have been there unattended to for quite some time. The paint was chipping away, exposing the dry wood underneath. Alice struggled to believe a coven the size Emmett had described could fit into the ranch-style home.

"Doesn't look like much, does it." He laughed, taking in her expression. "Watch," He approached the door, drawing out an invisible symbol on the surface with a finger as he chanted out something indecipherable under his breath. As he finished, the spot on the entrance began to glow slightly, and he turned the doorknob pulling open the door to reveal an enormous room.

The pair entered into the space; the room was now revealed to be the entryway of a mansion. There were plants on nearly every surface; large picture windows showed an expansive courtyard outside, causing the space to feel very open and free. It was as though they'd been transported not only inside the building but to an entirely different location. Numerous doors lined the dimly lit area, and a grand staircase held focal point in the middle of the room. At the base of the stairs stood a gentle-looking woman with tawny brown hair. She stood with the most welcoming of smiles, hands clasped politely in front of her as the pair stepped into the foyer.

To her left, a tall blonde woman leaned against the banister with her arms crossed. Her face lighting up when the pair entered, a noticeable relief consuming her expression as she stared directly at Emmett. It almost seemed as though the woman was holding herself back from rushing forward to check that he was okay. Alice glanced up at her new friend to see him gazing back at the woman with equal intensity. It warmed Alice's heart, so see two people who so very clearly truly cared for one another. Looking away with a sly smile, she had to admit she was a bit jealous. Maybe, with the way things in her life were beginning to look up, one day she would find someone who looked at her with as much affection as Emmett and the blonde woman looked at each other.

Alice turned her attention back to the elegant brunette woman who radiated a gentle love and kindness. The woman, who greeted her as Esme with a warm embrace, invited Alice to follow through a large wooden door to her left. Inside a refreshments tray that held cookies, so fresh that steam still radiated from them and a pitcher of a liquid. Esme flicked her hand up as she took a seat in one of the comfortable-looking green cloth chairs sitting at opposite ends of a lovely ornately carved coffee table. The pitcher rose into the air pouring the yellow beverage Alice assumed to be lemonade into two glasses set out in front of both chairs.

"Please sit," Esme directed to the other open seat; her voice was soft, warm, and comforting. Alice felt safe and welcome in the woman's presence. It was a stark difference to the unease she'd typically felt around adults, a welcoming change. She dutifully took a seat, eager to hear what the woman had to say.

"We're pleased you finally have you here, Alice." Esme opened, "I've been watching you for a while. You've made significant progress, given your unfortunate circumstance. I must say," The woman paused, taking a sip of her lemonade. "I'm rather impressed at what you've been able to do with such limited recourses. The determination to figure all of that out, considering the dangers, is inspiring, my dear."

"Thank you, ma'am; I don't feel I've been able to do that much, though." Alice thought back to the previous night and her many failed attempts at freezing the flower.

"Please call me Esme; we're equals here. Emmett has informed me of your insecurities. You've come here today to meet with our Jasper, correct?"

"Jasper..." Alice's breath caught in her throat, wondering if maybe it was possible Esme could be talking about the same man who's story had been such a source of inspiration to her. Was it possible that the legend who'd escaped had survived and was right here? That she would not only be meeting him but potentially gaining guidance from the man? "You don't mean Jasper Whitlock do you?"

Esme nodded, eying the short brunette carefully, studying her reaction to the revelation. The older woman seemed pleased to see Alice wide-eyed and grinning eagerly with excitement. "May I assume you're pleased by this?"

Alice blushed, staring down at her feet, "I've always wanted to talk to him."

"I'm glad to hear that." Esme smiled, relaxing back into the chair. She went on to cheerfully explain that Alice was welcome in the house anytime day or night. Whether it be for a simple chat or an emergency. Esme considered her part of the coven and, by extension, her family.

Alice was shocked by the instant welcome and pure kindness. She wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting but was pleased by the development. The change of pace made her feel as though she could relax like she was able to breathe comfortably for the first time in her life. One day, she hoped to be able to leave home and join this so far wonderful group of people permanently.

"Alice," Her attention was pulled to the doorway where Jasper now stood leaning against the wall with crossed arms an almost nervous expression on his face. He was taller than she'd expected, much taller standing just barely shorter than Emmett but with a slimmer frame. He looked near identical to the photo she'd seen in class only the day before, golden curls framing his face and those same intense green eyes. The only difference was the scars that adorned his face, slicing across his cheek, barely missing his eye. Where his sleeve rode up, she should see one on his arm; she imagined they were many. She'd known he'd fought for his life, but such a visceral visual representation was jarring. It was the most prominent of scars that caused her heart to sink, breaking for the man who stood before her. Maria had told the story many times, of how she'd almost had him how she'd pressed a knife to the throat of someone she'd once considered her best friend without a second thought.

The pair stared at each other, unsure what to say in that moment. For two years, Alice had wanted nothing more than to speak with this man. Now, here she was with the opportunity, and no words came to mind. She wanted to rush over and hug him, to ask him any of the numerous questions she'd thought up. Yet, she was stunned to silence, unable to do anything but sit staring into those all-encompassing eyes.

"Well," Esme broke the silence. "I'll leave you two be; I'm sure you have much to discuss." The woman stood passing by Jasper as she exited the room.

[flightfoot]

We’re The Same ch. 2

AO3/FFN

Oh yeah, a little background on Maya; her father's an assassin, and also an abusive asshole. He went after Damian, torturing him and taunting him into killing him (apparently. I haven't gotten my hands on that comic unfortunately). So Maya went after Damian for "revenge" supposedly, saying that she'd kill him after he'd finished his redemption quest, but that she'd help him in the meantime because he CLEARLY needed help.

...yeah, she's never killed anyone before, and it was really blatantly obvious that she wasn't going to go through with it even then. She was just paying lip service to what she thought she was "supposed" to do. Later once they've pretty much finished the quest, she ended up being the one to comfort Damian when he believed himself to be irrevocably stained with blood, forgave him, declared herself his sister, and gave him a hug.

I wish I had more material to draw from for Maya, I like what little I've seen of her.

Disclaimer: This is a Lovesquare fic, with Identity Reveal, Hawkmoth Reveal, and Hawkmoth Defeat. It is NOT a salt fic.

Thanks to @mini-minou for betaing!

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Damian peered up at the manor in front of him. Huge, imposing –

“How quaint.”

– if you didn’t happen to grow up as the prince of a society of assassins and the son of a billionaire, that is.

He took stock of his surroundings. There were cameras at the gate, but ONLY at the gate it seemed.

“Tt. What brain-dead simpleton designed this security system? Does the owner REALLY think this will be sufficient to catch any criminal infiltrating the place? Idiot.”

He launched himself onto a rooftop, getting a better angle to see the whole manor.

Two things stood out from the new vantage point; an open window that seemed to lead to a boy’s bedroom, and a weird patch of wall that wasn’t quite flat. To the casual observer it might appear to just be some strange design on the wall, perhaps an artistic choice.

Damian was NOT a casual observer.

He narrowed his eyes. “Things just got a little more interesting.”

He swung over to the patch of wall, running his fingers over it. Grooves spiraled across it, fitting together in just such a way that…

“I see. So this patch of wall is some sort of covering that can expand and contract. Now why would a perfectly ordinary, everyday citizen – well, aside from being rich – have one of these?”

There was nothing more he could do with that patch of wall. Time to investigate the window.

Swinging back around the manor, he took a better look at the room… and its occupants.

He narrowed his eyes. Seems I wasn’t far off about the spirit of the cat.

Inside a boy typed away at his computer, looking up news reports about Robin. Not a huge surprise, seeing as how the boy was almost certainly Chat Noir.

Slightly MORE surprising was the tiny black cat-like creature stuffing his face with cheese.

Seriously, how was he even eating that much, that cheese was bigger than his entire body?!

Oh wait, magic. Stupid question.

So he’d almost certainly found Chat Noir. Not exactly why the tracker had disappeared, but he had a start.

Time to do a little digging.

He brought out his phone and got to work.

Hm. Seemed like this mansion belonged to Gabriel Agreste, a world-famous fashion designer. He’d been reclusive ever since the disappearance of his wife nearly a year ago, only making a handful of public appearances. Judging from what little he could dig up, he seemed like a rather cold man who didn’t put up with anything he considered nonsensical or silly, such as when he was called into a game show without apparently having agreed to it. Damian actually agreed with his displeasure at being tricked into participating, but his tone and body language… it was a little too familiar for his liking.

There wasn’t much info on the wife, Emilie. Apparently her maiden name was Graham De Vanily. Her family owned a studio called Graham films. From her few public appearances, it appeared that she’d gradually been getting sicker and weaker over the months before her disappearance, though there was no news of her being diagnosed with any illness.

And then there was the final member of the family, Adrien Agreste, AKA Chat Noir. A fourteen year old model, he had plenty of professional photos and lots of celebrity appearances.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. 

Plenty of celebrity appearances… but little outside of that. Not until a few months ago, when he started going to public school. Then he started being tagged in other people’s photos, being talked about as a friend. Before that the only person his age who seemed to know him on a personal level was Chloe Bourgeois, and it took only about a minute of research to figure out that she was a stuck-up rich brat. It was always possible that his personal life was just kept private before this, but… well, Damian’s instincts were telling him that something was very, very wrong here.

Time to get a little more hands-on. Luckily the security of the mansion was ABYSMAL. Seriously, if Gabriel had lived in Gotham, both he and Adrien would have been kidnapped dozens of times in the last few years.

He didn’t need to make much of an effort. A few minutes after he’d put down the phone and started surveilling the mansion, a woman – judging by her appearance, most likely Nathalie, Gabriel Agreste’s assistant, opened the door. The little cat creature disappeared into Adrien’s shirt, likely to conceal himself from her, and Adrien left the room. Luckily for Damian, he left the window open.

He quietly alighted in the room. It was huge and had a lot of stuff in it, but nothing of interest, except-

He followed his nose. And wished he hadn’t.

“YUCK!”

So that cat creature had an entire hoard of the stinkiest cheeses that Damian had ever smelled in his life. And judging by how huge the stash was, he ate a LOT.

He swiftly closed the cabinet door. If anything else was in there, it wasn’t worth sacrificing his nose to find it.

His next discovery was a little less nauseating to his senses.

Damian pulled out a photo from the trophy where Adrien had hidden it and several other similar photos.

So the flirtations weren’t just banter then. Great, he’s lovesick.

Damian rolled his eyes and put the photo back. It was always a pain to deal with couples on a team, they were always making googly eyes at each other and being gross and NOT concentrating on the mission.

There wasn’t time to investigate much else – not without risking discovery. He planted a few bugs and cameras and moved on, entering the air duct.

He pulled up the floor plans of the building to use as a map… and soon frowned. The floorplan differed slightly from what he’d seen from the outside, especially with that strange covering. Not TOO big a surprise – that covering was obviously meant to conceal SOMETHING – but the size of the difference was pretty staggering. It seemed like at least a 500 square foot room had been secretly added to the mansion and NO ONE had noticed.

But even that didn’t explain what he saw in front of him.

He frowned. Now where was THIS little fork in the road supposed to go?

The duct split, one piece of it following the regular floor plan, as shown in public records, and the other decidedly NOT following that, instead curving steeply downwards.

A secret place that – judging by how long and how steep the ductwork was – lay underneath a mansion? If it was some sort of cave he should get Bruce to sue for copyright infringement.

It was not a cave.

A huge chamber stretched before him. It looked almost like a mausoleum, with its high ceiling, ornate windows, and general over-the-top atmosphere.

A cult, perhaps? They were fairly common – WAY too common – in Gotham, but he’d been hoping to maybe not run into them as often elsewhere.

He should have known better. Sheep existed everywhere in the world.

Still, if it was a cult, it must be a small one. The walkway wouldn’t be able to fit more than one or MAYBE two people, and the “island” at the end of it wasn’t exactly huge. Speaking of which…

He walked to the end, peering at the closed pod. A human-sized pod that was obviously supposed to be the focal point of the room underneath the manor of a millionaire who he strongly suspected wasn’t Father of the Year, when his wife had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Yeah this boded well and wasn’t suspicious in the slightest.

He prepared to hack the pod to open it up, or at least to get information on what was inside, but discovered there was no need. There was no security on it, it only required a button press to open.

Seems like Gabriel Agreste hadn’t thought to include any contingency measures for someone breaking into his lair.

The pod doors opened, revealing pretty much what Damian had expected.

Because of COURSE Gabriel was keeping his “missing” wife in a pod underneath the manor. Naturally. Why wouldn’t he? That’s a perfectly normal thing for a perfectly normal man to do.

Question was, was she alive and in some sort of coma or suspended animation, or dead and being kept preserved?

He examined her closely, checking her for signs of degradation and any sign of life. If she was breathing it was so low as to be undetectable, and her heart rate also appeared nonexistent. However, while her vital signs were missing, she appeared to be in good health otherwise, with no sign of rot or decay at all.

Suspended animation it was then.

After taking a picture, he closed the pod. If she was in suspended animation it may still be possible to revive her. He didn’t want to be responsible for more death.

A small insect flew by – a white butterfly.

What was a butterfly doing here? Then again, what was ANY of this doing here, especially the foliage.

Wait… a white butterfly – like the one that had been released when the akuma was purified.

A butterfly emerged from a cocoon on a nearby branch. Dozens of similar cocoons hung nearby.

A reclusive millionaire who was hardly seen out of his house, two massive rooms that didn’t appear on the floor plan, one of which housed his supposedly missing wife, and dozens of the same type of butterfly that Hawkmoth used to create his akumas?

It was possible that Gabriel Agreste wasn’t Hawkmoth. It was also possible that Damian would spontaneously grow wings and decide to become an opera star. Both possibilities seemed equally likely.

Might as well set up some cameras and bugs and then get out of here. If Gabriel descended the elevator, he’d have trouble leaving without being spotted. Wouldn’t be a problem if Gabriel was only down here for a short period of time, but if he wasn’t…

Swiftly he returned to the duct, heading back to the surface.

As he crawled around the vents, he left numerous bugs everywhere he could without leaving the vent, along with tiny cameras at each vent opening. When preparing to break into the lair of a supervillain, it paid to be prepared.

He shot off a quick text to Ducard, telling her to meet up with him at a certain rooftop he’d spotted that had some good cover. They needed to exchange notes.

It was time to take down a supervillain.

[ourbloodlinesendhere]

Guess who’s made a fan-house for FE3H? It’s me! I did!

Welcome to the Roseate Wolves, a house for transfer students from all over the world. I took a lot of the locations in FE3H that haven’t been fleshed out and slapped some headcanons onto them, as well as some fun cameos of other kingdoms featured in the Fire Emblem series. Is there any chance that these places all exist in the same universe? Probably not! But I don’t care.

Now, if you’re interested, I’ll drop some rambling below the cut:

(Warning: It’s very, very long and very, very rambly.)

I’ll be talking about what this house would be like if it were actually in the game!

For starters, since we only have three professors including Byleth, either Seteth or Jeritza would be the fourth professor. I’m leaning towards Jeritza for this because iirc some characters do mention that he was considered for Byleth’s position. It just makes his disappearance a little awkward, but oh well. I imagine he would default to teaching the Black Eagles for every route where Byleth isn’t (for obvious reasons) and after he poofs, maybe Seteth steps in and just makes Edelgard hate the church even more.

Anyways, let’s talk about the actual route and it’s characters, not just the setup.

With the other three routes, I’ve noticed that the house leaders warm up to you pretty quickly. This makes sense for their characters and the situation, but I’d like to imagine for a moment a route in which the leader blatantly does not like or trust Byleth at all until later in Part 1. Aren is cold and somewhat brooding, hesitant to trust and avoidant of social situations. Really, he’s only the house leader due to the insistence of his grandmother, otherwise he would never have wanted the task. When push comes to shove, he’s a brilliant tactician and a good leader, but he’s not sociable in the slightest.

During the conflicts with Lonato, the Western Church, Miklan, and other pre-timeskip Fodlan problems, there’s a persistent theme of “Why are we helping? We don’t live here, it shouldn’t be our problem” which settles over the group. More kindhearted folks such as Julia and Ragnar are less blatant about this, but there is just this general feeling of reluctance.

Now, for Edelgard’s reveal, we have a little reveal of our own. Sreng is a small kingdom with a shaky structure at best, and a low population. The only thing that has kept its sovereignty from Faerghus has been a secret it has kept for a long time. Within the various factions that make up its population, beast blood runs through their veins. Not all Srengese have this (making the trait somewhat similar to Crests in Fodlan) but for those that do, they have the power to shapeshift.

Aren, Liara, and Ragnar are all shape-shifters. Underneath his hood, Aren has wolf-like ears (like Keaton’s in Fates), as does Liara (hidden under her hair, like how... certain someones in FE3H hide their own funny ears), and Ragnar’s horns aren’t actually a feature of his helmet. Beast-shifters in Sreng are known as Orthrus. Aren is a wolf Orthrus, Liara is a snow leopard Orthrus, and Ragnar is a mutated, horned black vulture Orthrus. (He has small, malformed wings hidden under his coat. Imagine how uncomfortable he must be)

There is also the fact that Sreng lacks access to Beaststones. Their beast forms are massive and extremely powerful, but volatile. Orthrus often lose themselves in their transformation, and after battle they often need to be subdued by their allies. Without a beast form to help control their shifted selves, the three Orthrus were strictly forbidden from shifting when away from home, even when their own lives are in danger. Not just to protect Sreng’s secret; also to protect themselves and others from their beast forms.

Edelgard, as the Flame Emperor, attacks Byleth. At this point, Aren has grown very close to his professor, but still struggles in showing it. In an expression of his care for Byleth at last, he breaks the rules he was given and transforms into his Orthrus form. Gameplay-wise, he’s like a demonic beast, with four tiles in his hit-box and even an extra health bar. However, he’s an allied unit with purposefully flawed AI. He will rush right into battle without a thought, and him falling is the lose condition for the map (even on casual mode).

After the battle, with no enemies in sight and wild emotions coursing through his bestial mind, Aren goes on a rampage through the throne room as Rhea is horrified. Once the sacred site is thoroughly destroyed, Byleth finally calms him down, and he shakily reverts to his human form.

Once that map is completed, the Srengese students have had their cover completely blown, and it doesn’t take long for Liara and Ragnar to be exposed as well. They plead with Rhea to keep their secret, but she is enraged at the damage to the room and the throne, and exiles all three of them. They have to leave by that night, and she makes no promises about their secret.

Byleth meets with them in the night, and the rest of the Wolves do as well in order to say goodbye. Surprisingly, Flayn appears, having snuck away from Seteth and Rhea. She offers the Orthrus three beast-stones, unlocking the Orthrus class for them. Thank you Flayn! Wonder how she got those, almost like she knows a thing or two about- I mean, what

This will alter their beast forms to be smaller and a bit less powerful, but allows them full control over themselves when shifted. Now they play exactly like Taguel in Awakening, except they stay in beast form whenever the beast-stone is equipped, not at the start of each battle.

Flayn can’t help them any more though, since she’s ultimately loyal to Rhea and Seteth. For the remaining time until the time-skip, they’re not available for use in your party. If for some reason you’re playing classic mode like some kind of masochist and both Liara and Ragnar are out of your party, they’ll still appear in these cutscenes. However, next moon you’ll be informed that their injuries slowed them down and Knights of Seiros caught them, killing them. Ouch!

The battle of Garreg Mach is a different story. With their loyalty to the church shaken, but with no desire to join up with Edelgard, Byleth and the Wolves are trapped between two clashing armies. The goal of the map is to get your students to safety, through a harrowing path riddled with enemy soldiers attacking anyone in sight. Any students from the other houses you didn’t recruit will be enemy units! But they don’t perma-die when you defeat them here, since lots of them will appear again post-timeskip. When Rhea starts wrecking shop, Byleth hurries all the students ahead, fighting off anyone who comes for them. But they gets yeeted off of the cliff anyways.

Now, I hope to design some post-timeskip designs soon, but until then, just picture that everyone’s a little battered. Fodlan closed its borders to prevent foreign reinforcements from coming in and deserters from leaving, so all of the Wolves have become trapped in the midst of a war. Only small exceptions occur for the purpose of paralogues and such (like if you had recruited Bernadetta and Petra, their paralogue happens the same.) but overall, nobody can go home. Also, Sreng has been strong-armed into fighting for the Empire! Lovely. If Liara and Ragnar are alive, you’ll need to face them in battle and recruit them there, Tharja/Gaius-style.

But where’s Aren? He didn’t return home, actually. He laid low, and upon hearing Garreg Mach fell, he searched desperately for Byleth to find them. He eventually holed himself up in the ruins of Garreg Mach, chasing out anyone who tried to come for it. Essentially like how timeskip Dimitri was, but less murder-y and more just. constantly terrified and lashing out. He became paranoid and desperate, and eventually abandoned his beaststone to remain in full Orthrus form.

When Byleth finds him, he’s fully shifted and tries to attack them. However, upon recognizing his professor, he backs down and manages to return to his human form. His beaststone lays on the floor, now having been attached crudely to a necklace. Byleth puts it back on him, and he regains control of himself.

His personality has become erratic and anxious, even more untrusting than before, but he’s instantly dependent on Byleth and clings to them with uncomfortable desperation. When the other Wolves arrive, he is cold to them, even to Liara, and becomes possessive of Byleth.

The post-timeskip era starts out with the Wolves feeling trapped and simply trying to stay alive, turning Garreg Mach into a sort of hideout for other refugees who wish to escape the fighting. However, after getting to know the suffering of the Fodlan people, the theme shifts to one of empathy. Just because something isn’t our problem, and doesn’t affect our people, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t act when innocents are suffering. Faerghus and Adrestia are at each other’s throats, and the Alliance is getting trampled, but the neutral land of Garreg Mach houses a growing force of fighters looking to put a stop to the war.

Aren’s arc post-timeskip involves him eventually leaning away from Byleth as a crutch, and standing stronger on his own. He learns to trust others regularly, and forms a deep bond with all of the Wolves, reconnecting with Liara again. 

Now as for how the route ends... who knows ! ;) I just might write something for this house, so you’ll just have to wait and see.

If people are interested, I’ll also go into more detail about the individual characters! Because this whole thing here was very Aren-centric with cameos from Liara and Ragnar.

[knifeplaycr]

And so she stumbles, quickly looks around to make sure no one is following, and finally places her hand against the old door. It opens with a creak and she finds herself in the familiar factory. There's a bag strapped against her shoulder, the smell of blood making it difficult to focus on anything else. Rina is nowhere to be seen, but Morally opens the bag regardless and pulls out a cat - what used to be a cat. Its eyes are gouged out and its stomach is split open, albeit empty.

It’s a familiar yet at the same time unexpected stench that prompts Rina to wake up from her very brief nap (as she’d call it, she has probably been sleeping for 30 minutes or so). Though her clothes and features are pristine and clean, differently from what one would expect, a strong stench is attached to her – gasoline and smoke, to be exact. While she did not manage to slash any flesh tonight, she sure did find another way to have fun; setting fire to strip malls is always the answer to boredom, in her humble opinion.     A small, almost silent groan follows her wake, and she sits up, one hand tapping the surface beside her until they grasp the signature red glasses she usually wears. After rubbing her eyes, Rina puts them on: and from behind still, rusty machinery, she catches glimpse of a peculiar scene. Wait wait wait… is that…! It takes her no time to recognize the girl that entered the building. Blonde hair, amber eyes, nice body, completely fucking lost in a stupidly endearing way, Rina thinks, that’s definitely Morally.     What are you up to, lil’ chicken?     Even with her lenses helping her sight, she doesn’t make out properly what Morally is pulling out of the bag: she just knows - thanks to the bloody smell, mostly - that it’s something dead. Most people would be appalled to strike this realization. Rina, on the other hand, instantly finds herself to be smiling.

That’s why she doesn’t hesitate when she decides to jump out of her small napping nook. Expectedly, she is shirtless - thus leaving bare for anyone to see the myriad of scars that mark her upper body - and in some spots, there are fresh new bandages that stink like brand new injuries. As a girl who likes to play with fire, it’d be weird for her not to get burned (or maybe saying burn herself would be more correct). Arms cross behind her back, and with a few hops, she is immediately in front of where Morally is standing. A toothy, wide smile stretches her lips apart.     “Aw, you came to visit me–? Thought you’d have forgotten this was a place I brought you to,” she leans forward, despite the fact that they’re more or less the same height. It takes little effort for Rina’s eyes to lock onto Morally’s. “’Specially since you got quite the absent head, as pretty as you are.” Rina’s head falls down, to glance at what the other girl laid there,     “Now, what do you got he–”

The scenario grows more curious. Rina thought she’d seen everything, but this clearly changes the game. Now who in their right fucking mind – Rina snorts at the phrasing – would do this?     That’s a dead cat.     “That’s a dead cat,” Rina says, flatly. It’s not anything but a phrase, an observation. She even points at the poor animal’s remains, to make her statement even more blatantly obvious. “That’s a dead cat. Where did you find it?” it’s not weird for carcasses to be laying around the city, especially more dangerous zones like the one she lives in. But before Morally can actually answer, Rina’s head jerks up, and comes to a sudden realization. Wait! This girl isn’t just a pansy, she remembers.      “Wait – no, don’t tell me you–” a gasp of faux-surprise, which quickly turns into a giggle. “–You did this?! You just went and - and grabbed a cat, a stinky little kitty, and decided to kill it and mutilate it - for… why? Why did you even do this, uh? Ahahahahaahaaaaa!!”

Her fast blabber doesn’t allow actual conversation. Azure hues glance at the macabre gift at her feet, and in dark humour, Rina can’t help but laugh louder once she realizes that, usually, cats are the ones to bring dead gifts to the people they like. Seems like this one ended up more a mouse than a cat! A wheeze, a snort. Her hands are holding her stomach, it’s as if her stomach scar is about to open up again!     When laughter dies down, she is wheezing, barely able to keep her eyes open. That grin is ever-the-same, except now there’s additional mirth to it. Whether this reaction is out of surprise or due to anything else isn’t for anybody to know.     “Did you do this for me?”

[ @soulcrux ] ▸▸ RINA’S EASILY AMUSED!

[starfire-27-blog]

Shallow Beginnings: Prologue

*Disclaimer; This story has elements of child neglect and verbal abuse, drugs, sexual content, and nudity. 18+ recommended.*

���Really, mom?! More drugs? I thought you said you were done with this shit?” Isabelle, once again, caught her mother snorting coke. She assumed the molly had already been popped, usually Alahna Kaminski didn’t just deal in one vice at a time.

“What? It’s none of your business what I do with my life, little bitch. You’re lucky you even have a roof over your head, I should have left you outside the damn hospital in the rain with all the trouble you’ve caused me. And now you’re bitching at me for taking a few minutes to get my head right? Get the fuck out of my house, girl, and don’t come back until your attitude is better. Fucking whore.”

Ah, so she was already in that deep, huh. Well, so be it. This was nowhere near as bad as it could be; so Isabelle took her advice and went for a walk, trying to clear her mind. Maybe by the time she got back, Alahna would be a little more calm. While she walked, Isabelle thought about everything she wished she could change. Ever since she could remember, they’d lived in this rundown studio house. Her mother was hardly ever in a state lucid enough to fix it, and their landlord didn’t give a shit because he wasn’t getting any money from them. Isabelle didn't know for sure, but her mother didn’t have a job and they hardly had any money so it was blatantly obvious she was paying in other ways. It was made even more obvious how she would sometimes see him around their yard at 6 in the morning; God knows he never did any work out there. Isabelle was just biding her time until she was old enough to move out. She was determined to make something from her life, even though her start wasn’t that great.

Isabelle walked for a good few hours, before returning home. As she opened the door, she said a silent prayer to whatever asshole god existed that her mother would be asleep. Or maybe dead. Of course she should have known better than to expect a break like that.

“Are you kidding?! Seriously?” It wasn’t the first time she’d walked in on something like this, but she was getting pretty god damn tired of it.

“Who the fuck is this one?! He looks half your age. What kind of parent are you, knowing your teenage daughter fucking lives here. What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry, sweetness, my spawn is an uptight bitch. Lord knows where she got it.” Alahna said to her guest. To Isabelle, “If I hadn’t pushed you out of my cunt myself, I would never know you came from me. I’m counting the days until I can legally kick you the fuck out. Just go to bed. It’s too late for children to be up anyway.” Isabelle went to lay down as Alahna lit up a joint and shared it with the random guy. She was probably getting paid for this, Isabelle would ot be the leas bit surprised.

Isabelle has cried every night for as long as she had memories. She woke up every morning praying for a break, a respite, a long lost relative to show up out of nowhere and take her away. Anything.

The next day when she returned home from school, Isabelle didn’t hear banging or senseless talking. She didn’t smell a fresh blunt rolled from the shittiest weed money could buy. She had an eerie feeling when she opened the door to see al the lights off, but she just brushed it off. Her mother was probably passed out on a park bench somewhere. She walked into the kitchen to make a sandwhich with their hard, moldy bread. She was stopped short when she saw a lump on the ground, and a creature she never believed actually existed.

Grim Reaper! As Isabelle looked at her mother in a lump of skin and bones on the kitchen floor, with an open and mostly empty bottle of MDMA on the counter, she had some pretty conflicting feelings...Her mind scattered everywhere at once. What happens now? She still had over 65 days until her birthday. If she ended up in the orphanage...there was little hope of her getting adopted this late in the game, and to be honest, there were younger kids than her who needed loving families. She could take care of herself. That was the moment when she decided. She’d support herself, and stay low on the radar until she was of legal age to be alone. Isabelle had been given plenty of practice taking care of herself with a mother who was in a constant drug induced haze. Then, with that thought, she was a little excited. No more screaming matches, no more walking in on random naked dudes fucking her mother, no more dealing with the kids at school about their run down house. She said a silent thank you to Grim on her way out the door.

On her way to the nearest park in town, Isabelle heard a *crack* as a shot of lightning struck across the sky. Then the thunder rolled in, and rain started pouring down on her. Well, this puts a bit of a damper on her newfound freedom. Having nowhere to go, and realizing she was pretty tired, she laid down on a bench to nap. A short time later, she was woken up by the whimpering and yapping of what sounded like a scared puppy. Opening her eyes, she saw a small furry rat-looking dog staring up at her with a miserable “please help me” expression, her eyes wide, and she was trembling from head to toe, scared of the storm.

“Hello, little one. Looks like you’re all alone out here in this mess, too, huh? Well, we can just take care of eachother, how about that?” With a small *yap*, The puppy seemed to agree with her, and lolled its tongue out of its mouth as Isabelle reached to pick her up.

“Me and you, kid.” Isabelle said as she nuzzled the small puppy close to her. Giving her the name Kooper, the two became inseparable, their bond formed in the worst storm Brindleton Bay had seen since Isabelles’ birth.

65 Days Later

“Alright, girl, we did it!” Isabelle said to Kooper, as they stared at their brand new front door. After the storm the day her mother died, Isabelle woke up to a bright, sunny morning in the park. She contacted some of her school friends, and crashed on couches while trying to finish high school. Eventually, things got hard. She couldn’t keep up with her studies and her two jobs. She dropped out, lied about her age and joined the military. Today, on her official young adult birthday, she received the promotion to stage 3 of the career. She had just finished closing on her very first home. The last 65 days had been a rollercoaster...Isabelle had tried dating a few imes, but she didn’t really have time for it with everything she was dealing with. Because of her past, she was never able to let anyone in. She had a few sexual partners, but none she really considered serious. Other things were far more important to her. Now, as she stared at her first home, she finally started feeling like her lif was coming together. Going into young adulthood with a smile on her face, holding her best friend, she turned the key for the first time.

[lixmyg]

rough anal & pet names—yuwin

THIS WAS A DIFFERENT SHIP BEFORE SO SORRY IF THE CHARACTERS DON’T FIT AS MUCH

→ angst, fluff, smut, dom sub relationship, praise kink, pet name kink?, slight kitten kink, slight hyung kink, slight edgeplay

description: yuta’s in love with sicheng when he doesn’t want to be. sicheng’s really touchy with their friends and it gets on yuta’s nerves, being the possessive fellow he is, but he never acts on it. one day, sicheng gets home seemingly drunk. yuta takes care him and it’s later realized--through some yelling and maybe a make out session--that sicheng isn’t actually drunk but just wants yuta to take care of him and pay attention to him like when they first started living together. sex ensues.

yuta and sicheng have lived with each other for three years so far. the first year, yuta treated sicheng like his baby and god did he love it. but after awhile, yuta distanced himself. he was grouchy whenever they hung out with the guys and when it was just them, he was easily irritable and hated when sicheng touched him.

sicheng thought yuta had started to hate him. doyoung and taeyong assured him that wasn’t it, but sometimes it really gets to him. he missed when yuta would take care of him. soon, sicheng acted grouchy right back to yuta. not mean and not pushing him away, just sassy and snarky. jisung once commented that they were like a old married couple, to which the both snapped at.

so here they were, yuta, lucas, jungwoo, taeil, and sicheng sitting in lucas and jungwoo’s shared apartment. yuta, lucas and jungwoo were on the long couch in front of the tv while sicheng and taeil were cuddled on the love seat to the right of the couch. they were watching some show yuta didn’t bother to care about, only watching the two on the love seat giggle and whisper to each other. the roommates made eye contact, sicheng starting to glare over taeil’s shoulder before focusing his attention back to the ravenette.

yuta silently fumed, deciding it was better to leave than sit though this, “i think i’m gonna head home. maybe get a headstart on cleaning since you know who doesn’t clean.”

it was a lie, the apartment was oddly clean for the fact two young guys lived there. sicheng recognised that, and yes was a bit worried on why, but only waved bye with the rest of the group.

“text us when you get home.” jungwoo said. yuta nodded and headed out, walking to his apartment which was only ten minutes away.

yuta was pretty pissed. he felt like he had no right to be but god was he absolutely pissed. it was almost as if sicheng was teasing him, hoping to just get him to his breaking point. and god did that make yuta want to put him in his place.

but he can’t. cause sicheng doesn’t like him like that. so he has to stop himself from getting too attached. not that anything’s really helped, yuta’s still as head over heels as when he first developed his crush on sicheng. heart still flutters at his smile, breath still hitches when too much of his beautiful pale skin is on display.

maybe it's a bit much to cut sicheng off, but the other seemed to be as rash yuta.

that much was clear when the younger was knocking and kicking the front door of the apartment, shouting through the door, “yuta! yuuu better open the damn door! i’m flippin--”

“cheng, jesus, be quiet. are you drunk or something?”

the boy in questions cheeks were read and he looked a little dazed, yuta’s accusation was totally justified. but in actuality, sicheng had planned to burst through the door and make yuta explain to him why he’s become such an asshole and maybe lay a sweet kiss on him.

yuta’s look of worry and concern completely ridded that plan out the window, sicheng nodding slowly.

the older hefted the younger up quickly moving him to the couch, kicking the front door closed and locking it. he ran to get some water, not knowing how to handle drunkenness. he doesn’t drink all that often.

so for the next hour yuta just nurtured sicheng as if he were a kid. he sat with him on the couch and got anything he asked for. all yuta was really waiting for was for him to fall asleep.

weirdly, unlike most drunks, sicheng didn’t fall asleep after laying down for a while. he didn’t even slur his speech, he spoke in clear unwavering sentences. when yuta thought about it, sicheng may not even be drunk. he didn’t even smell the slightest bit of alcohol on his breath.

“sicheng, are you even drunk?”

“what?” sicheng’s heart dropped. he was enjoying the nice moment with yuta, but he was scared yuta would get mad if he wasn’t.

“are. you. drunk.” he accentuated each word. the other didn’t reply.

“seriously, hyuk.” yuta huffed, getting up, “stop with these annoying ass games already.”

sicheng scoffed, “yeh, like you’re one to talk. you think i’m playing annoying ass games? what about you asshole, is it fun to push your best friend away or something? huh?”

yuta stopped heading to his room, biting the inside of cheek and turning back to face sicheng, “i am not pushing you away.”

“bullshit!” sicheng laughed sarcastically, taking steps toward yuta, “just tell me, what the fuck is it? if you don’t like me just tell me--”

“that's not it,” yuta's voice wavered, fists clenching at his sides, getting frustrated with the obviously upset sicheng.

“well then isn’t there something you’d like to share with me, yuty poo.” the other pushed, now right infront of his hyung.

yuta rolled his eyes, “it's not that i don't like you, its that i do. in a way you don’t.”

“why the fuck do you think i don’t?”

sicheng looked like he wanted to rip his hair out and yuta looked like his whole world twisted.

“you--you--”

“you’re so fucking slow! yes i like you too! and yes i want you to fuck me too! it’s been obvious since we moved in with each other! why do you think i’m all over taeil in front of you!” hyuk continued rambling about all the things that made it so obvious that yuta liked him and that he liked him back and how slow yuta was.

after the younger finished ranting and was breathing heavily, yuta spoke slowly.

“you, you like me?”

sicheng let out a small chuckle of disbelief. he simply pulled the other into a kiss. heavy and sweet, a wide hand slowly sweeping from the small of sicheng’s back into his hair, tugging lightly.

“yeh, i do dipshit.”

yuta grinned, “and i can fuck you?”

“god, please do.” sicheng whined, slipping his thigh between yutas, who only raised an eyebrow, pulling on the tuft of hair he had a hold on, sicheng dropping his leg quickly.

“it hasn’t even been a minute and you’re already so desperate, huh?” yuta whispered against sicheng’s jaw nibbling and kissing here and there, “want me to fuck you that bad?”

“jesus fuck, yes! please, i’ll be good i promise.”

“your room or mine, pretty boy?” yuta asked, sicheng keening at the pet name.

“m-mine.”

the younger jumped and wrapped his legs around the older, being carried to his room, lips connected.

sicheng was placed gently on the bed, yuta grabbing his chin, making him look each other in the eye, “are you sure you want this baby? we can stop--”

“no, no, i want this. please, wanted it for so long.”

yuta nodded, comfortable with his sicheng’s consent, “strip then. where’s your lube?”

sicheng flushed, taken a bit aback with his shirt caught over his head.

“there’s literally a strawberry vibrator on your bedside table, babe.” yuta chuckled helping the boy with his shirt, noticing the bottle of lube next to the toy.

“strawberry kiwi? do you have a thing for strawberries, sicheng?” he teased, grabbing the bottle and striding over to his pretty partner.

sicheng’s clothes were scattered on the floor, completely bare naked on his sheets with yuta blatantly admiring the skinny, pale, beautiful boy.

“god you’re so pretty baby,” yuta praised, sicheng’s dick visibly twitching at the words.

a hand crawled up the tan boy’s thighs, feeling around till they hovered over where sicheng needed it most, “you like being called pretty? like being praised and told what a good boy you are?”

sicheng nodded, whining at the lack of contact, “please hyung! please, w-wanna come.”

“i haven’t even touched you yet, kitten.” yuta ignored the twitch of the youngers dick, coting two fingers in lube and sticking them in slowly. as expected, they slipped in easily.

“a-ah, don’t need it. just need you, hyung, please. i’m already--” yuta suddenly started rubbing against the inside of sicheng’s velvety walls, searching and finding his sensitive places. especially that particular bundle of nerves hyuk’s fingers were never long enough to reach.

“god fuck! yuta gonna cu--”

“don’t.”

sicheng could’ve cum right then and there if it weren’t for yuta pulling his fingers out quickly, replacing the tight coil in his stomach with an empty wonton feeling.

“yuta, what the fu--”

yuta only stared, as if telling sicheng to shut up or else.

“i thought you were gonna be a good boy for me kitten? or do you just wanna cum? are you my good boy or are you just a brat?”

the younger shook his head quickly, “i’m a good boy. your good boy.”

“what a good baby,” yuta muttered, kissing his way up from sicheng’s pelvis bone to his collarbone where he littered hickey’s and left sicheng to grind up into the roughness of his jeans to get off.

sicheng rutted up onto the others clothed thigh with so much desperation he almost came in a matter of minutes, yuta playing with his nipples and suckling at his pulse not helping.

“y-yuta.” he stuttered out in warning, his ruts more feverish until they were cut off completely, yuta and his stupid big hands holding his hips to the bed and preventing hyuk from any friction.

sicheng wanted to cry. he’s never been deprived of an orgasam, let alone twice buy the same guy with the same cocky smirk.

“please please yuta i’ve been good,” sicheng all but begged, “please fuck me, please.”

it pissed sicheng off but god was he turned on. he laid completely naked, vulnerable to everything yuta did. yuta was fully clothed too, using sicheng like a pretty toy, with pretty names like good boy, and baby, and best of all kitten. he wanted yuta to fuck him raw, rough, but not forgetting to call him kitten.

and that's exactly what yuta did. he lowered his trousers just enough whip out his dick, sicheng giddy at the sight, incoherent “please” and “fuck, yes” spilling from his lips as yuta lined up, entering slowly to sicheng’s dismay.

once yuta bottomed out, he shot sicheng a shit eating grin as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, thrusting hard and quick, hitting all the sensitive spots he’d found before with his fingers.

sicheng withered beneath him, clawing at yutas shoulder blades as he let out porn worthy moans, his breath hitching when yuta hit his prostate and hips stuttered when the coil in his stomach quickly unwound in white stripes against yutas clothed stomach.

“you did so well kitten,” yuta kissed the top of sicheng’s head, “you’ll be a good boy and let hyung finish, right kitten?”

“y-yes.” he managed through the overstimulation, thighs shaking and lips constantly parted with a silent beautiful moan.

the visual stimulation of sicheng’s fucked out face, shining with sweat and the afterglow of sex was enough for him to come, pulling out and stroking himself to orgasm, coming all over sicheng’s chest.

the two took a moment to catch their breaths, silent before sicheng spoke.

“i didn’t know you were so kinky, kitten.”

“i had a feeling about you though, hyung.”

“seriously though, a strawberry vibrator? c-can i see you use it?”

“let's save that for next time.”

[hannahberrie]

Everybody Talks | Chapter 3: Telephone

Fandom: Stranger Things Pairings: Mileven, Lumax  Rating: K WC: 5259 Summary: On a Friday night, the kids find their sleepovers getting more awkward by the minute.

[AO3] Chapter Selection: [1][2]-3-[4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][Epilogue] 

[A/N]: Many thanks to @estrelladesimons for helping me draft this chapter, as well as the rest of the story. She is a lifesaver!

“Fireball the son of a bitch!” Dustin exclaims frantically.

“Hurry!” Mike pleads.

“Holy shit!” Lucas says through his teeth, gripping the edge of the table.

Will, hands shaking, drops his roll. The dice hit the Dungeons and Dragons board with a thud that resounds in the boys’ ears.

There’s a collective sharp intake of breath as the boys lean in, waiting for the dice to fall still.

“Wait for it…” Dustin says, holding up a hand.

And then…

“YES!” They all cheer, exchanging high-fives. Will breathes a sigh of relief, Lucas is grinning, Dustin fans himself with his hat, and Mike proceeds to pick up the Dungeon Master’s manual.

“The Orc howls in pain!” Mike reads dramatically, adding a couple shrieks of pain for theatrics. “His body bursts into flames, leaving nothing but a blackened corpse behind!”

“Sweet,” Dustin grins.

“Is that it?” Will asks, looking up at Mike expectantly.

“Silence falls over the dungeon,” Mike continues to read, “You breathe a sigh of relief. It’s finally over. Until—”

“Until?!” Lucas exclaims incredulously.

“Until you hear a noise. A faint, echoing rumble. It starts far away, but as your eyes widen in fear, you realize it’s getting closer, bigger.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Dustin wheezes.

“An army of Orcs storms the dungeon!” Mike declares, slamming a fist down on the table for emphasis. “There’s hundreds and they’re looking for vengeance, for blood!”

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin exclaims, throwing up his hands in defeat. “We’re fu—“

He’s cut off by the sound of the basement door swinging open. The boys look up from the gaming table to see Mrs. Wheeler descending the stairs. She glances around the basement, looking frustrated, to say the least.

“Michael?” She gripes, folding her arms across her chest. “What did we say about keeping things clean?”

“It is!” Mike insists.

His mother motions to the numerous empty pizza boxes and coca-cola cans scattered across the floor.

“Well, except for that stuff,” Mike admits. “We just got distracted by the campaign!”

His mother gives him an impatient look before she begins to pick up the trash littered all over the floor. “You know that I’m not going to let you guys have sleepovers if you make a mess like this!”

“We know,” Mike says flatly.

Mrs. Wheeler finishes stacking up the precarious assemble of pizza boxes and soda cans in her arms. “Next time, you’re doing this,” she reminds him.

“I know.”

She glances at the game board, then back at the pajama-clad boys. “Have you guys been playing this all night?” She asks.

“Kinda…”

“Aren’t you guys getting a little old for this game?”

The boys exchange irked frowns.

“There’s no age limit for D&D,” Mike insists, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen like, 40-year-olds playing it.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Mrs. Wheeler replies dryly. She takes the pile of trash and heads back up the stairs. “Make sure you guys are in bed by 10!”

“But it’s Friday!”

“10 o’clock,” She repeats firmly, reaching the top of the stairs.

“Thanks, Karen!” Dustin calls out just as Mrs. Wheeler shuts the basement door.

“Dude!” Mike exclaims.

“What?”

“Don’t call my mom ‘Karen!’”

“She said I could!”

“When?”

“Last week!”

“Can we just get back to the campaign?” Lucas cuts in.

“Before we’re completely destroyed by the Orcs?” Will adds.

“Fine,” Mike sighs. He looks at the manual again and starts reading once more. He continues the narrative, setting the scene before listing off what scenarios the party could take.

Will, Lucas, and Dustin turn to each other, talking amongst themselves frantically.

“I say we fight our way out!” Lucas suggests.

“How are we going to fight hundreds of Orcs?”Will asks worriedly, “I think we should try to reason with them.”

“You can’t reason with bloodthirsty maniacs!” Dustin exclaims, “I say we offer one of ourselves as a sacrifice!”

“Who do we have to sacrifice?” Lucas asks, dumbfounded.

“The traitor,” Dustin jokes, jabbing his thumb towards Mike.

Mike’s brow furrows. “What?!”

“I’m kidding!” Dustin insists, before adding, “…Mostly.”

“How am I a traitor?” Mike asks indignantly.

“Well,” Dustin glances at Will and Lucas before continuing, “You kind of betrayed the party.”

“How?!”

“You befriended the enemy!”

“What?!”

“El? El Hopper? You’re like, totally in love with her!”  

“Am not!”

“You literally walked her out of class!”

“I already told you guys, we just happened to be walking out at the same time. What was I supposed to do, just ignore her?”

“Uh, yeah!” Dustin says, tone indicating that Mike is missing blatantly obvious. “That’s how we survive!”

“Survive? Survive what?”

“High school!”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Will cuts in hesitantly, “I mean, we don’t really know them.”

“Thank you,” Mike says to Will, giving Dustin an annoyed scowl.

“I’m not being harsh!” Dustin defends. “I’m just dealing with the facts! Everyone knows that high school has a hierarchy. You got your shithead jocks, the preps, the stoners, the punks, and then, way at the bottom, us. Face it, Mike — you and El are from two completely different classes!”

“No, we’re not! We’re in the same grade!”

“Not school ‘classes’!” Dustin motions to the Dungeons and Dragons board. “Like these. When’s the last time you heard of like, a High Elf befriending a Drow?

“What?” Mike exclaims, furrowing his brow.

“Exactly, never!”

Mike, currently at a lost for words, just frowns. “Yeah, but…”

“We’re just not meant to get along with people like El, it’s not how high school works!” Dustin continues, “It’ll only blow up in our faces and end in disaster!”

Mike falls silent. Dustin’s words, though he probably doesn’t know it, speak to a secret worry of Mike’s: that El will grow bored of whatever is happening between them. That she’ll wake up one day, remember how lame he is, and want nothing to do with him, like most kids at school. Is he really just wasting time, trying to get to know her? Maybe he’s just prolonging his own rejection.

“He has a point,” Lucas admits.

Mike isn’t ready to admit as much. “I thought you liked Max!” He instead points out in frustration.

“I do—“ Lucas pauses then freezes, eyes wide, “I mean, I don’t! I mean, I dunno. She’s still awesome, but I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“Why?” Will asks.

“Every time she passes me in the hallway, she punches me in the arm,” Lucas explains, “It kind of hurts.”

Dustin laughs. Lucas proceeds to punch his arm.

“That means she likes you,” Will says, ignoring their fighting, “At least, I think so.”

“How would that mean that she likes me?” Lucas asks, confused.

“She’s showing you attention!” Will explains, “My mom says girls always go out of their way to show attention to the guys they like.”

“Really?” Lucas perks up at this, failing to hide his growing smile.

Will shrugs.

“Like it matters!” Dustin scowls, “Did any of you guys hear a word of what I just said?”

“Haven’t you ever heard that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover?” Mike counters Dustin, “What if Max and El are really awesome, and you’re too busy being an asshole to even realize it?”

Dustin gives him a look. “I’ll believe it when I see it. For now, I’m just trying to save us all from catastrophic embarrassment!”

Before anyone else can answer, Mike’s mother opens the door to the basement again. “Michael!” She calls down, “Phone!”

“Who is it?” Mike calls back.

“It sounds like a girl!”

Wait. What?

“A girl?!” The guys all echo, turning to look at each other in bafflement.

A beat passes.

Then they’re running.

The four boys, now shouting, scramble up the stairs with Mike in the lead.

“Maybe it’s Vanna White!” Dustin exclaims, “Maybe you’ll get to be on Wheel of Fortune!”

“Why would Vanna White call my house?” Mike snaps back.

“I dunno! But think about all the Atari games we could buy!”

“It’s probably Mrs. Hawthorne!” Lucas snickers gleefully, “She’s gonna bust you for stabbing the Biology frog in its gall bladder!”

“That was an accident!”

They reach the top of the stairs, race down the hallway, and arrive at the family phone. The receiver is still hanging off the cord where Mrs. Wheeler left it, swaying ominously.

As his friends scramble to stand behind him, Mike stares at the phone, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Are you gonna answer?” Will asks Mike.

Curiosity gets the better of Mike, and he nods in response. Glancing at his friends one last time, he takes a deep breath and picks up the phone, placing the receiver over his ear.

“…Hello?”

“This is the best part!” Max gushes excitedly, “Just wait for it!”

El watches in horror as the music swells and Michael Myers bursts from the shadows. He pins his victim to the wall by the neck, watching as his prey writhes in his grasp. Myes raises the knife. Its blade glints in the moonlight. Then, with a sickening squelch, the knife drives right through the victim’s chest and into the wall.

“He gets PINNED to the wall with the KNIFE!” Max recounts, face twisted into a grossed-out smile. “It’s totally disgusting and awesome!”

“Totally awesome,” El nods, grimacing. She looks away from the screen and returns her attention to the task at hand: painting Max’s nails. “Hold still,” she instructs, getting out the black polish.

“Sorry,” Max apologies, laying her fingers out in front of El.

“You like this?” El mumbles as the camera lingers on the limp body of the victim.

“It’s cool!”

“Cool?”

“Totally.”

They’re in El’s room, currently in the midst of one of their coveted Friday night sleepovers. They’re sprawled across El’s bed, surrounded by candy wrappers, nail polish bottles, and dark eyeshadow palettes. Max brought over her VHS copy of Halloween, which is currently playing on the small TV El keeps atop her dresser.

El gives the black nail polish a shake before unscrewing the cap. She carefully holds Max’s palm with one hand as she applies the polish with the other, making sure to not get it all over Max’s cuticles.

While El still has her hair slicked back, Max has pulled hers back into a long ponytail. She flips it over her shoulder as she speaks, making sure her hair is out of the way as El gets to work.

“You like the movie too, right?” Max asks, glancing back at the TV.

“Yeah,” El lies. To be honest, after the frog dissection, the last thing El needed was an entire movie that was solely about someone going around and cutting people open. But El also knows that this is Max’s favorite movie, and she doesn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“I was Michael Myers for three Halloweens in a row,” Max states proudly. “One time, I hid behind some bushes and totally scared the shit out of Billy. You should’ve heard him, he screamed like a—“

There’s a knock on the door, and the girls look up to see El’s father, aka, Jim Hopper, aka the Hawkins Chief of Police, standing in the doorway.

El knows that, like her, her dad can be pretty intimidating. He’s tall and massive and can yell when he needs to. But tonight, he’s not a tough police officer. Tonight, he’s just her dad, sporting an old Hawkins University T-shirt and some jeans.

“You kids still doing alright in here?” He asks, glancing into the room. His eyes land on the TV, catching sight of Michael Myers stalking down a dark hallway, knife in hand. He frowns. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing!” El quickly replies. With a quick jerk of her head, the TV switches off, and she turns to smile at her father innocently. “Just sitting!”

“And doing nails!” Max adds, holding up her hands as evidence.

“Humph,” Hopper snorts, evidently deciding to let it slide. “Well, are you girls getting hungry? You want me to order a pizza, or something?”

“Yes, please!” El chirps.

“Can we have sausage and pepperoni?” Max asks.

“Sure,” Hopper replies.

The girls wait for him to leave before turning back to each other. El keeps the TV turned off, hoping that she can get away with ‘forgetting’ to play the movie again.

“Are you going to go to Homecoming?” El asks, trying to distract Max with conversation.

“You mean the dance?”

“Yeah.”

“The dance that they’ve put up ten million posters for all over school?”

“Yeah.”

“The one at the end of the month?”

“Yeah.”

“The dance that only dweebs go to?”

“Yeah?”

“Then no.”

El pushes down the tinge of disappointment that rises in her chest. “Yeah, me neither. It’s lame.”

“Totally.”

El finishes Max’s nails, and Max admires them proudly. “Thanks!” Max smiles, proceeding to blow on them to help them dry faster.

“Welcome,” El replies, pushing the nail polish bottles aside.

A moment passes, and El starts to search her mind for something to say. She really, really, doesn’t want to finish watching the movie. Thankfully, Max speaks up next.

“We should do something!” Max says, looking around El’s room.

“Like what?”

Please not ‘watch Halloween’.

Max thinks. “What do girls do at sleepovers? Like, the preps?”

El’s brow furrows. “I don’t know. Gossip?”

“Listen to Cyndi Lauper?”

El blushes. “Talk about guys.”

“And,” Max says slowly, pausing for dramatic emphasis, “Pillow fights!” She turns, grabs a pillow from El’s bedspread, and proceeds to smack El over the head with it.

“Ow!” El laughs, grabbing her own pillow.

The two go back and forth, whacking at each other sporadically as they burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Amongst the chaos, Max knocks the remainder of El’s pillows off the bed, uncovering something that was hidden underneath.

The Hawkins High 1984 yearbook slides out into view. It bumps up against Max’s leg and makes her pause. “What the—“

“Don’t!” El gasps, dropping the pillow she was holding.

Max snatches up the book before El can. She turns it over in her hands before holding it up to El, an intrigued grin curving her lips.

“Why do you keep last year’s yearbook under your pillow?” Max asks incredulously.

“It’s nothing!”

“Nothing? Seriously?”

“Just give it to me!” El snaps, lunging forward.

“What are you hiding?” Max moves back and gets off the bed, holding the yearbook closer. Ignoring El’s protests, she starts to flip through it, looking completely pleased with herself. “Wait, is this page bookmarked?” She asks, flipping open to the page marked with a yellow post-it note.

“Max!” El scrambles off the bed and follows after her, but Max is too quick. She continues to move about the room, maneuvering just out of El’s reach.

“Why do you have this page bookmarked?” She asks, scanning the page, “It’s just the last of the kids from our grade, no one we even know is — holy shit.”

El freezes. “What?”

Max turns the book around and points at the page. “That’s that guy!” She exclaims, “Mike! Mike Wheeler! The geek! The one you were totally drooling over last week!”

“No!” El denies adamantly, her cheeks growing hot.

“You even got his dorky club photo bookmarked,” Max snorts, flipping to the second sticky-noted page. “You’re like, totally stalking him.”

El uses her powers to whisk the book out of Max’s hands and into her own grasp.

“Stop.”  She says firmly, giving Max her best glare.

Max looks alarmed, but then her expression softens. “El…”

El tries to stay mad, to stay tough, but her embarrassment eats away at her and she can feel her walls start to break.

She looks at her feet, face hot with shame. “Don’t,” she warns, pleads. “I…I know it’s stupid. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid!” Max quickly insists. She moves to sit on the bed again and motions for El to join her.

El, still clutching the yearbook, follows her with great reluctance.

Max turns to look her in the eye, speaking with great sincerity. “I’m sorry I laughed, okay? I just didn’t think you’d ever like someone so—“

El eyes her warily.

“Different,” Max hastily finishes.

El slumps her shoulders as she looks down at the yearbook in her arms. She runs a finger over its spine, thoughts going back to her few, but treasured, memories of Mike. The way he made her laugh. The way he rambled when he got excited. The way he wasn’t totally scared off by her smudged eyeshadow or dark demeanor. The way he smiled at her.

“He’s nice,” El finally mumbles, “and smart. And funny. He doesn’t make fun of me for being weird.”

Max stays silent, allowing El to unload all of her emotions.

“I know you think he’s a geek, but I…I like him,” El continues, feeling less shy, “Just ‘cause he likes comics and video games doesn’t mean that he’s a total knucklehead.”

“Right,” Max replies, looking oddly uncomfortable for a moment. But the moment passes as quickly as it comes, and a second later, her face returns to its original, relaxed expression. “No, you’re totally right. I shouldn’t have laughed, that was stupid.”

“It’s ok,” El assures her with a small smile. She turns, grabs her pillows off the floor, and arranges them as they once were, sliding the yearbook back under her them. Though the anxious feeling in her chest has died down, she’s still feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. She’d never planned on having to explain why she spends too much time looking at someone in a photograph, even if it was to her best friend.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Max asks.

“Do?”

“About President Nerd?”

Oh. Right.

El looks down at her own nails, gaze focused on the chipped black polish on her thumbnail. “I don’t know. He barely notices me,” She mumbles.

“Why don’t you just show him one of your mind tricks, or something?” Max suggests. “That’ll get his attention.”

El gives her a look. “You know I can’t. Dad doesn’t want me to tell anyone about my powers.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It was just an idea.”

“And,” El continues, “I don’t want him to think I’m a freak.”

“Why would he think that?”

El holds up her hands, then motions to her own head.

“Having powers makes you cool!” Max says. “You know what I’d do if I had powers?”

“Something dangerous?” El smiles.

“Uh, yeah!”

The two exchange smiles before falling silent.

A beat passes, then Max gets a mischievous grin on her face. It’s the same grin she had before they spray-painted the principal’s car.

Oh no.

“What?” El asks hesitantly.

“It’s just,” Max replies, grinning even wider, “If he won’t notice you, you just gotta make him.”

El frowns. “What do you mean?”

Max turns around, grabs the phone resting on El’s nightstand, and pulls it onto her bed. “Call him!”

“No!” El jumps back from the phone as quickly as if it had burned her.

“C’mon!” Max taunts, holding out the receiver, “I dare you!”

“We already played Truth or Dare.”

“Well, we’re playing again. Call him.”

El continues to shake her head, though with a bit of reluctance. “I don’t…I don’t know his number,” she mumbles weakly.

“Yellow Pages,” Max replies.

“But…”

“Do you want him to know you exist, or not?” Max says exasperatedly, “Are you really going to just keep moping around like a total bonehead or actually do something?”

El looks her in the eye.

Max looks back.

“I’m not a bonehead.”

“Then call him.”

El takes a deep breath.

“You know you want to,” Max says in an exaggerated, girly voice that makes El giggle.

“Fine!” She bursts.

“Yes! No takebacks!” Max laughs impishly before jumping off the bed. “I’ll go get the book!”

El buries her face in her pillow as Max runs out of her room and down the stairs.

What on earth did she just agree to?

Much too soon, Max is back with the bulky Yellow Pages book. She rejoins El on the bed and begins to flip through the “W” Residencies. Her eyes are narrowed with determination, while El’s are wide with anticipation.

“Wheeler!” Max announces triumphantly, jabbing a finger at the page. “Ted and Karen. That’s gotta be it!”

“O-okay!” El says, unable to hide her nervousness — she doesn’t think she’d be able to even if she tried.

El pulls the phone closer to her. Max reads off the number. El dials it with shaking fingers.

Max slides in close to El, no doubt to make sure she can hear the entire exchange take place. El holds the receiver to her ear, holding her breath, heart pounding.

The phone rings three times before it’s picked up.

“Hello?” Someone answers — someone that’s definitely not Mike. It’s a woman’s voice, probably his mom’s.

This was a terrible mistake.

“Uh, hi?” El’s voice is shaking, and she takes another deep breath to steady herself. “Is Mike there?”

“Yes, he is. May I ask who’s calling?”

El hesitates, not wanting to out herself just yet. “I’m in class with him,” she offers instead. “At school.”

“Alright, I’ll go get him,” Mrs. Wheeler replies. El can hear her set the phone down.

“Was that his MOM?” Max snorts.

El nods. “She’s going to get him.” She can feel her heartbeat in her throat and she suddenly feels nauseous. “What should I say to him?” She hisses to Max.

“Tell him you love him!” Max replies, snorting again.

El punches her leg.

There’s a minute of silence. Then, moments later, El hears the muffled sound of running feet and shouting. Her brow furrows in alarm and confusion, but seconds later, it’s quiet again.

More silence.

Then she hears someone pick up the phone.

El readies herself.

Here we go.

“…Hello?” Mike asks nervously.

El swallows. “Hey.”

Both receivers crackle loudly, allowing for Mike and El’s friends to hear every exchanged word.

“Who is this?”

(“The girl of your dreams,” Max says in that girly voice again, unable to keep a straight face.)

“…..El.”

“El?”

(Will’s jaw drops. Dustin and Lucas immediately proceed to make an ‘oooooooh,’ sound.)

“Uh, yeah.”

Mike’s heart skips a beat, and for a moment, he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. Then again, if he is, he’s 100% sure that his dreams wouldn’t include Lucas and Dustin making kissy sounds in the background. “Hey!” He replies, throwing the guys a dirty look. “What’s up?”

El pauses. She still doesn’t have a good reason for calling him. She glances around her room, desperately searching for some sort of inspiration. Her gaze lands on her backpack, and she smiles in relief.

“Do we have homework?” She asks quickly, “In Biology? I, uh, forgot.”  

(“Homework?” Max mouths, shaking her head in disbelief.)

“Homework?” Was that it? Mike feels his heart sink a little lower in his chest. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” El replies. Why did she call him again? She sounds like a complete idiot right now. How is this supposed to make him like her?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

(“This is the most depressing conversation I’ve ever heard,” Lucas  mutters, “And we just had to watch Scared Straight for psychology class.”)

“So, uh, what are you up to?” Mike asks, trying to make conversation.

El feels herself blush. “I’m just at my house,” she mumbles.

“Cool! I’m at my house too!” Mike responds earnestly.

(“No shit,” Dustin says, smacking himself on the forehead.)

Even though this conversation is going about as well as a train wreck, El smiles when she hears the familiar, upbeat liveliness in his voice. “Comics and video games?” She asks, hoping he’ll remember their detention conversation.

Mike grins. She’d remembered! “Uh, yeah, kind of! I actually just got this new Star Wars Comic, First Strike? It’s the 100th issue, so it’s like, super cool!”

“One hundred?” El echoes in surprise.

“Yeah, they make a lot,” Mike continues, “I’ve read all of them though. You could borrow them sometime, if you wanted.”

(“Do you think that showing you his comic collection is the nerd version of getting to first base?” Max asks.)

El feels her face grow warm. “Yeah,” she says casually, even though she’s never seen any of the Star Wars movies. She’s not about to admit that right now, though.

“Cool!” Mike replies cheerily.

El wants to say more. She wants to just sit and talk to Mike for hours upon hours until her voice is hoarse and she’s exhausted her vocabulary. But with Max right there, grinning at her, and the mounting feeling of pressure swelling in her chest, El knows that she needs to take a step back.

“Well, uh, I should go,” she says.

Mike feels his heart sink. Then again, as he scowls at Dustin and Lucas, who are back to making kissy faces at him, now isn’t exactly the best time to get into a lengthy conversation with El.

“Yeah, okay,” Mike replies. “See you later!”

“Okay!”

“Bye!”

“Bye, Mike!”

The phone call ends.

“You guys are assholes!” Mike says as he hangs up the phone.

In response, his friends all burst into laughter.

“That was painful!” Lucas exclaims, both grinning and wincing at the same time.

“Like watching C3PO trying to win over Leia!” Dustin giggles.

“Oh, c’mon! Was it really that bad?” Mike asks, turning to Will. Though he keeps his tone casual, internally he’s pleading for validation that he didn’t just totally screw up.

“I think she likes you,” Will offers with a smile, “She’s showing you attention, remember?”

Mike hesitates. “But she just wanted to know about homework!”

“She could have called the teacher,” Will points out, “Or someone else in class.”

“That’s true…”

“You want my advice?” Dustin asks.

“Not really,” Mike mutters.

“Get out while you still can,” Dustin finishes, placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“C’mon!” Lucas rolls his eyes and starts heading back down the hallway. “Let’s get back to the campaign!”

“Last one to the basement gets sacrificed!” Dustin calls out, darting past them.

“No fair!” Will cries out, following after them.

As they’re already halfway down the basement stairs, Mike already knows that he’s going to be the one to get sacrificed.

Shit.

Glancing at the phone one last time, Mike follows his friends down the stairs, forcing himself to push aside any further worries about El.

El hangs up the phone quickly, cheeks a bright scarlet.

Max starts laughing again, though this time it doesn’t hurt El’s feelings. “He’s like, totally in love with you,” Max snorts, “It’s adorable, really.”

El tries her best to give Max an annoyed look, but truth be told, the phone conversation has left her head in the clouds. “He doesn’t,” El insists half-heartedly.

“Right, Mr. ‘I’m At My House Too’!” Max bursts into another round of laughter. “‘Let me show you my sweet comics!’”

El, despite how red-faced she already is, manages to blush even more. “Shut up!” She replies, now laughing too.

“You like him,” Max teases, poking El repeatedly.

“Stop!” El gasps, trying to grab the offending finger.

“You like Mike!”

“Mike?” A new voice asks.

The girls look up to see Hopper standing in the doorway, holding a box of pizza.

“Dad!” El squeaks. She and Max sit up straighter on her bed, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Who’s Mike?” Hopper asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nobody.”

“Nobody?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re just getting all giggly over ‘nobody’?”

El hesitates. “I….”

“Mike is a boy from school,” Max cuts in.

El turns to her friend, aghast. “Max!”

“What?” Max shrugs, “He’s a cop! He was going to find out eventually!”

“So, you tell him now?”

“Do I know him?” Hopper asks. He’s smiling, eyes twinkling with mischief. “This ‘Mike’?”

“No!” El exclaims. This, without a doubt, is the most embarrassing night of her life.

“What’s he do?” Hopper continues, looking intrigued. “Any sports or clubs?”

“Well, he’s 15, so he sells drugs,” Max says dryly, “Like, hardcore drugs. And he’s been to jail, like five times.”

“MAX.”

Hopper snorts at the sarcasm. He sets the pizza down on El’s bed and points to Max. “I like her,” he states.

“I don’t,” El grumbles, throwing Max a dirty look.

Max beams back at her.

“I going to assume you’re joking,” Hopper says, giving the girls a serious look, to which Max nods sincerely.

“Do you actually think El would like someone like that?” Max asks.

Hopper hesitates. “Well…”

El’s brow furrows. “Dad!”

“Well, I know you two are into this whole,” his sentence trails off as he motions between them, “Punk thing. I’m fine with it, but I want you to be smart about it. Like, the whole thing with the principal’s car? You gotta stop messing around like that.”

“I know,” El pouts. Even though her dad already chewed her out about this last week, it still hurts to know that she disappointed him. “Sorry.”

Hopper smooths his hand over El’s slicked-back hair. “You guys are good kids,” he reminds them, “I know high school isn’t always easy, but you don’t need to act out to make it easier.”

Max and El exchange hesitant looks.

“Ok,” El mumbles.

Hopper nods before moving back and heading back towards the door. “Make sure you get some sleep,” he instructs them.

“We will!” Max assures him.

Hopper leaves then, shutting El’s bedroom door behind him.

“Your dad is pretty cool, you know,” Max says. She opens the pizza box and takes a slice, proceeding to talk with her mouth full. “Like Jack Cates. I wish my dad was a cop.“

“You say that now,” El takes her own pizza slice. “But what about when you want to spend time with Lucas?”

Max nearly chokes on her pizza slice. “What?!”

El raises her eyebrows and takes a bite of her pizza.

“I don’t like that dweeb!” Max insists.

“Okay.”

“I don’t!”

“You were staring at him during lunch yesterday.”

“He had food on his face, it was hilarious.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like Lucas,” Max repeats. She rolls her eyes, flips her ponytail, shifts in place, and makes a snort of disgust, as if the more dismissive actions she makes, the more El will believe her.

“Sure.”

Max gives her a dirty look.

El only beams right back.

[queenofcats17]

Friends On The Other Side

So I was inspired by these posts, and I wanted to write something for it. 

Optic Ink AU belongs to @metamatronic

Sammy Lawrence had been serving Susie Campbell for about a year now, and he hated every minute of it. The woman was spoiled, selfish, and downright unpleasant to be around. But, hey, it paid the bills. He did what he had to in order to get by. Moving to a different country had been rough on him, but now they were back in the states. He’d never been to New Orleans before, so this was at least a little bit exciting, even if he had to follow Susie around while she flirted with every man who walked down the street.

“Come on, keep up!” Susie snapped, only barely glancing back at him. “We’ve got stuff to do!”

“Give me a break!” Sammy snapped. “I’m carrying all your luggage myself!”

“Whatever.” Susie flounced her hair. “You’re my valet. You’re supposed to carry my luggage like this.” Sammy sighed heavily. He hated his job. He hated his job so much. But it paid the bills. All of this was so he could eventually quit and go be a conductor someday. A second later, both Sammy and Susie went crashing into a dark-skinned man in a top hat. The top-hatted man stayed standing, while Sammy and Susie fell to the ground. Sammy was about ready to yell, but the words died in his throat. Oh fuck. This guy was pretty hot.

“My lady,” the top hat wearing man flashed them a large grin as he extended his cane to Susie, who used it to hoist herself to her feet. “Enchanté.” He swept off his hat. “A tip of the hat, from Doctor Polk. How y’all doin’?” He withdrew a card from his jacket, handing it to the princess. She grabbed it, eyes raking over the words printed on the card.

“Tarot readings, charms, potions...Dreams made real.” As she read, Norman wrapped an arm around her shoulder, beginning to lead her down a dark alley.

“You comin’?” He looked back at Sammy who, up until this point, had been sitting on the ground in shock.

“Right, uh, of course.” Sammy scrambled to his feet, trying to get together all of Susie’s luggage. By the time he’d gotten it together Norman and Susie were almost at the end of the alley. Sammy muttered some curses under his breath and ran after them, definitely not wishing it was him Norman had his arm around.

“Were I a-bettin' man,” Norman was saying. “And I’m not, I stay away from games of chance, I’d wager I’m in the company of visiting royalty.” He made a bit show of bowing, replacing his top hat once more. Sammy took a moment to look around. They’d come out into a little courtyard among the buildings, with a dead tree wilting in the middle of it.

“Lawrence, this remarkable gentleman has just read my palm.” Susie said, turning to her exhausted valet. There was a look of unbridled glee, and possibly greed, on her face.

“Or read the newspaper.” Sammy muttered.

“You doubt me?” Norman asked, feigning a hurt look.

“It’s nothing personal.” Sammy said. “It’s just that most of the people I meet who have that pitch usually just want your money.”

“Then allow me to prove my worth.” Norman smiled widely. “You’re in my world now, not your world.” He pointed his cane toward a sign over a doorway, torches bursting into flame to reveal the lettering.

Doctor Polk’s Voodoo Emporium

“And I’ve got friends on the other side.” Norman opened the door for them, gesturing them into the store.

“Sit down at my table.” Norman snapped his fingers and a platform was illuminated, with three chairs and a table upon it. It was blatantly obvious which chair was Norman’s, given how much nicer it was than the other two. “Put your mind at ease. If you relax it will enable me to do anything I please.” As he gestured them over, his shadow plucked their hats off their heads, depositing them a few skulls on a cabinet.

“I can read your future, I can change it ‘round some too.” Norman sang, gently pushing them down into their chairs. “I’ll look deep into your heart and soul. You do have a soul, don’t you, Lawrence?” He winked at Sammy, who flushed. “Make your wildest dreams come true.”

“So, what’ve you got?” Sammy asked, trying to reclaim his composure. Norman’s smile widened.

“I got hoodoo, I got voodoo, I got think I ain’t even tried!” He declared, displaying a vast assortment of goods for them before sitting down in his almost throne-like chair. “And I’ve got friends on the other side.”

“Yeah, that’s nice or whatever.” Susie leaned back in her chair and pursed her lips. “But are you going to tell our fortunes?”

“Just take three.” Norman produced a set of cards. “Take a little trip into your future with me.” Sammy and Susie both drew three cards, laying them out in front of themselves. Norman bent over the table, flipping over Susie’s cards first.

“Now you, young lady, are from across the sea. You come from two long lines of royalty.” He said, flipping over the past card. “Your lifestyle’s high, but your funds are low. You need yourself a man who’s got some dough. Mom and Dad cut you off, huh, party girl?”

“You make it sound like I’m irresponsible.” Susie said haughtily.

“Now, y’all gotta get hitched.” Norman said, shuffling the cards and laying them out in front of him. “But hitching ties you down. You just wanna be free, hop from place to place. But freedom takes green.”

“So? I already know that!” Susie snapped, face burning with shame at her own bad decisions. “What do you see in my future?”

“When I look into your future it’s the green that I see.” Norman flipped over the last card, which showed a woman rolling in money. Susie’s eye lit up, and she forgot all about her shame.

“And what about me?” Sammy asked, hoping he’d get as glowing a reading as Susie had.

“On you little man, I don’t wanna waste much time. You been pushed ‘round all your life.” Norman said. “You been pushed ‘round by your mother and your sister and your brothers. And if you was married? You’d be pushed ‘round by your wife.” Sammy deflated at this, sighing heavily. So he was doomed to be someone’s pawn for the rest of his life.

“But in your future, the you I see,” Norman stood up and walked around to stand behind Sammy’s chair before flipping over the future card. “Is exactly the man you’ve always wanted to be.”

“What?” Sammy whispered, snatching up the card. There, on the card, was a picture of him conducting an orchestra. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Shake my hand.” Norman held his hands out to both Sammy and Susie. “Come on boys. Won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?” Both of them shook Norman’s hand without a second thought. It was then that things got REALLY weird.

“Yeeees!” Norman began to laugh as the shop around them distorted, the shadows rising up and brightly coloured lights replacing the soft glow of the light bulb. Voodoo masks covered the nonexistent walls. Snakes appeared, wrapping themselves around Susie as if they were rope.

“Are you ready?” Norman asked. One of the voodoo masks before him opened its mouth, a small pendant floating out of the green portal in its mouth.

“What is this?!” Susie demanded, struggling against the snakes. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m givin’ you what you want.” Norman passed a hand over his face, a painted skull appearing. Sammy sat transfixed as the doctor pricked Susie’s finger with the pendant, the grooves filling up with blood. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.

“I hope you’re satisfied.” Norman grinned. “But if you ain’t, don’t blame me. You can blame my friends on the other side!” Sammy’s confusion quickly turned to horror as he watched what was happening to Susie.

“Now,” Norman wrapped an arm around Sammy’s shoulder. “Let me help you out.” Sammy could only nod. He had a bad feeling about this.

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 4

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 5,361 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Thanks for your patience, here's part 4~

See me here in the air Not holding on to anywhere But holding on so beware I have secrets I won't share

-t.A.T.u., "Clowns (Can You See Me Now?)"

Then.

“Psst.  Hey look over there, it’s that Brown girl.”

“The one hanging out with the freak in computer class?  You think they’re dating?”

“Ew, gross.”

“You know I heard she got knocked up by some loser in high school.  I bet she has like, no standards.”

“Wow, what a skank. So she’ll sleep with anyone, huh?”

Look who’s talking, Queen Jezebel.

Stephanie tried her best to ignore the snobby gathering of rich sorority girls as they gossiped and giggled loudly behind her back in the gymnasium locker room, mingling and clinging onto the clear alpha’s authority.  Hiding and huddling under a protective umbra, umbrella safety in numbers.  …So much for college being better than high school when it came to cliques and bullying.

As they passed by her change station – all the adulating acolytes swarming around their leader like an amoeba – one appendage broke away from the buzzing cluster just far enough to bump blatantly into her bare shoulder.

“Whoops.  Sorry.”

The drone drawled in an excessively sarcastic tone that didn’t sound sincere at all, to the observant master’s smug approval.

Really, just like high school.

As tempted as she was to make a snide remark on the obvious imbalanced power dynamics, Stephanie managed to swallow her pride and suppress retort.  Biting her tongue until they were out of sight, upon which she stuck it out in an equally mature gesture in their wake.

“So like anyway, I hear this new gym opened up on the outskirts downtown.  It’s kinda out of the way – like, by the boonies almost – but apparently the instructor there is really hot.”

Stephanie couldn’t catch the statement that ensued, as the distance between them had already advanced to the point their fading words were muffled by rows of metal.  There was a shrill burst of shrieking laughter before they exited though, harpy peals mixed with a round of half-appalled gasps, rebounding and resounding raucously off steel.  Odd, she could’ve sworn she heard something about pirates…?

She sighed and shrugged as she got dressed, wiping the workout sweat from her face with a towel and pulling her sweatshirt over her sports bra.  She didn’t much mind being lumped in with the outcast crowd; frankly she was used to being looked down upon by others by now, but the derisive comments still stung her self-esteem – especially when she was already having a bad day, due in part to being so bluntly turned down by the public pariah she was supposedly “associated” with.

Face it, girl, not even the “freak” is interested in you. What were you even thinking, blurting out something stupid like that.  It must’ve come off as totally desperate; someone as smart as him probably doesn’t want to bother spending time with some dumb blonde chick who can’t even find her way around campus anyway.

She had come here to blow off some steam after being grilled on her grades in addition to the above gaffe, but now thanks to those sickening sycophants she was sorely reminded of her own poor social – and subsequently intellectual – standing.  Missing culture and class (in all senses) often made her an easy scapegoat, much as she endeavored to rise above those who stooped to such low level of insult in order to make themselves appear somehow more “sophisticated”.  She couldn’t help being a bit ruffled though, bile riling spitefully in her stomach as self-doubt simultaneously rolled about her conscience.

I mean come on, who are you even kidding?  All you’re really good at is PE and pretending to be from a decent background instead of another broken dysfunctional family.  Doesn’t matter what his type is, he’s way out of your league.

While she normally tried to cover up lack of conviction with clever wit, this was just the newest in a long series of successive failures (though it certainly didn’t top the ultimate blunder she’d made once).  Chalk another one up to the slew of screw-ups and setbacks that plagued throughout her past, piling up to the point she may as well be called the Leaning Tower of “Please Kick Me”.   Despite exertions to deny at least one side of her upbringing, the dominoes were stacked against her since birth.  Any psychoanalyst worth his salt (assuming she could even afford one) would point to a mess of complications stemming from childhood, starting with “daddy dearest”. Freud would likely have a field day with her “father figure” fixation – in the more negative than positive association. While both parental “role models” had problems with neglect in the past, it was the paternal ones that particularly persisted.  Thanks to her poor excuse for a pop, she’d suffered her share of blows (both emotional and physical) that defeated and deflated a daughter’s dignity, culminating in a personal vendetta against crime and clueless adults who can’t even properly take care of their kids.  (Which in itself was one of the reasons she sadly but firmly determined in the end to give her own offspring up for adoption.)

Objectively, it was no wonder she had terrible luck – if not taste – with men, chasing endlessly after a string of doomed relationships (and consequently consecutive rejections), sought as a self-diagnosed surrogate to replace the male attention and affection she never received growing up.  …So she idly acknowledged the full irony of the situation when, in order to distract from her dejection, she considered the inadvertent advertisement mentioned earlier as a potential solace.

Maybe I’ll go ogle some eyecandy for peace of mind.

She had promised her mom she’d come home for the weekend after all.  She could stop by on her way, scope the – ahem – place out a bit.  From the sound of the discussion, it was located fairly close to the suburbs, and establishing affiliation with an exercise facility near her neighborhood would be pretty convenient during vacations, compared to commuting back and forth like she did in high school.  (Having a certified hunk for a fitness instructor as well would just be a nice bonus, icing on the cake.  Given her strict regimen, surely she deserved to treat herself to some confectionary “consolation” on the side.)

…When she stepped off the bus in the middle of Gotham’s busiest shopping district though, she realized she probably should’ve done more research into its exact whereabouts first.

Dear Diary, remind me to print out directions next time.  Or at least a map.

As she wandered hopelessly through the streets, now without the benefit of a guide or even a destination address to go by, eventually probing enough passersby bore fruit.  By the time she arrived there though (out of breath as if she had already run a marathon), the sun was starting to set.  Craning her neck to gaze up at the building sign towering above her, she snorted slightly at the lofty title.

“Out of the Nest Aerial” – what a weird name.

A bell chimed as she entered, alerting a man who was bent over some boxes in the back of the lobby (which smelled of fresh paint and renovation), apparently busy packing away some materials.  He must’ve been surprised by a customer at this late hour, as she caught a cursory lift of his (lean yet muscular) arm to glance at a wristwatch.  Still, he called pleasantly over his shoulder:

“Be right with you in a moment.”

Eyeing the robust frame of his behind, she assured:

“Ah, take your time.”

donotstareathisbuttdonotstareathisbuttdonotstareathisbutt

Damn, those gals seriously weren’t kidding about the view.  …As the ass-umed target of their talk turned around though, she realized what they must have been chatting about that set off such a funny fit, following screeches with shushes.  Steph felt her own face flush as she admonished herself for inappropriately zoning in from one conspicuous feature to another.

donotstareathiseyedonotstareathiseyedonotstareathiseye

Despite the discernible… “deficiency” in the other’s visual department, the defect didn’t detract from his overall attractiveness, magnetic movie star looks unmarred by partial eclipse. One shining moon’s force of gravity was sufficient enough to draw her into its depths.  …If anything the shadow blocking the opposite sun’s reflection only enhanced his handsome appeal by augmenting an alluring air of mystique and intrigue – a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious if she ever saw one.  Hell, the rest of his heavenly body’s figure was practically flawless, revealing the results of what must’ve amounted to years of intense physical training.  Aside from deducing self-discipline as part of his personality, he carried himself with the convivial charisma of a cheerful showman presenting some grand performance (which she vaguely recollected from her father’s former game show hosting days). A voguish comportment vaguely cobbled from the kinds of classy male caricatures generally seen strutting on red carpet catwalks, peacocks fanning their feathers for their – in this case – drabber female counterparts (fans who would squeal and fall over themselves with glee if given a chance to even get within vicinity, let alone dare to lay claim of victory).  Suave and stylish – if slightly synthetic.  All preened plumage and perfect poses, placid and practiced.  Like plastic roses, permanently planted for all to adore – parading proud and prominent down a promenade.  Whose upbeat character’s charm was hardly diminished as he grinned gregariously in greeting, the gorgeousness of such a stunning smile more than making up for any handicap.  …Although she noted the guy’s gait seemed somewhat rigid for somebody of his stature, walking with a minor limp towards her.  Her blush deepened as he approached, exuding a masculine musk as his powerful paw extended to shake.

“Welcome.  How can I help you, miss…?”

“Brown.  Stephanie Brown.”  She babbled rapidly, tongue tying again as she tripped over her response. “Nice booty- I mean, nice butt- I mean, nice to meet you.  …You know what, I’m so sorry, I’m just gonna go.”

Fortunately, he seemed to take the semi-suggestive (if perhaps politically incorrect) comment in stride, simply chuckling aloud with unalloyed aplomb.

“Trust me, I’ve heard it all.  Richard Grayson, at your service.”  The dreamboat flourished a forgiving bow, adding with a flirtatious smirk:  “You can call me Dick though, all the ladies do.”

ohmygod please stop

“Um, I was wondering if I could check you out-” She hastily checked herself again.  “Er, check out your equipment?”  God, why did that still sound so embarrassing to say.  “I was thinking of signing up to join if you’ve got memberships available.”

“Sure, although we usually close around this time.  Was just about to lock up soon actually.  I’ll make an exception for such a lovely little lady though.”

Red crept further onto her cheeks.  “Thanks, I’ll just take a quick peek.”

He nodded.  “Feel free to look around, most of our stuff’s upstairs. Would you like me to give you a special tour?”

“N-no, that’s okay.”

She squeaked, subduing an internal squee.

“All right.  Let me know if you need anything.”

She skipped swiftly up the steps, heart skipping beats.  Today was turning out to be a pretty good day after all.

When she reached the upper floor though, she stopped short to see someone was unexpectedly there before her: the very person she had intentionally come to forget about.

What’s he doing here?

He didn’t seem to notice her presence, focused intently on a pair of uneven horizontal bars before him. Muttering something to himself under his breath, clenching his fists and flexing a few times.  After the limbering stretch, he inhaled deeply before charging at his opponent, clearing the first hurdle with ease by using it as a springboard. He appeared to have some trouble latching onto the second, but managed to rectify his grip in time, righting himself as he swung up and over in a circle.  Adjusting his center of weight, he settled into a handstand, still facing away from her.  Gradually, he removed one palm from the pipe, impressively relying on a single limb’s strength to maintain balance.

A memory pricked in the back of her mind.  Gotham High. After dusk.  An empty gymnasium.  She had forgotten her homework at school after practice, so she hopped on her scooter and raced back.  As she neared the gym though, she heard a groaning crash within, followed by an angry curse. Poking her head cautiously through the door crack, she spotted someone lying prostrate on the floormat beneath the parallel beams (which were presumably set up again by said individual after having already been put away prior), alarmingly appearing unconscious.   At first she panicked, and was about to run and call for an ambulance when the comatose corpse stirred, sluggishly staggering to its feet.  Despite dragging them a little, he wobbled over to take previous position at the end of the pad.  Stabilizing himself, he waited a minute for dizziness to dwindle before tumbling and backflipping across the entire expanse, vaulting high into the air to land – almost, but not quite – on the mark.

While she winced in his place, he merely picked himself up and gave it another go, repeating the routine over and over, for what felt like hours.  She stood there and watched with silent marvel, gaping in spellbound, slackjawed awe at each graceful arc and twist, utterly mesmerized by this bizarre boy’s sheer determination to get it all precisely right – nearly bordering on desperate, if not suicidal.  No matter how many times he tried though (nevermind shocking disregard for the quantity of bruises gained in the process), each attempt produced little improvement.  Even if he managed to successfully pull off the whole maneuver, his hands shook so much upon descent that he still slipped off the perch – almost as if some part of his subconscious were involuntarily compelling himself to hold back.  Finally, he kicked the dual poles over in frustration, storming off towards the outlet.  She hurriedly ducked around a corner, but was able to get a good glimpse at his visage before he vanished.

She knew his name straightaway from face alone; everyone did.  She’d seen him around in the halls, heard the whispered rumors, but had never spoken to him before.  Most people strove to avoid interacting with the “world class weirdo” if they could help it, and his raging outburst at the end was admittedly a bit disturbing.  …But the bitter expression of disappointment he wore as he glumly gave up became burned into her brain, ingraining irritation on his behalf.  He evidently possessed extraordinary talent, yet still wasn’t satisfied with himself. (Her own signature moves paled in comparison, and not even the most senior members on the team could come close to the caliber of coordination and dexterity – let alone stamina – required to execute the intricacy of the initial sequence.)  No one else seemed to recognize his raw skills either; or rather, he didn’t allow anyone to witness them for whatever reason.  When he showed up to class the next day sporting so many injuries, everyone speculated how the infamous “delinquent” must have gotten into some kind of brawl outside of school, and steered clear even further.  He didn’t say anything in his defense, but she found herself privately lamenting the misunderstood look of loneliness in his eyes – that in a way felt so achingly familiar from when she’d spend her mornings carefully concealing her “loving” dad’s last night beatings with makeup in the mirror.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to openly express sympathetic sentiment.  She had her own pressing business to attend to, as shortly after that she discovered she was pregnant.  Her louse of a boyfriend had already long broken up with her, dumped and ditched to fend for herself as soon as the quake of ’09 hit, fleeing like a coward while she stayed to try and help other survivors.  Not only that, he completely skipped town in the aftermath – coincidentally for the entire duration of her gestation period – only coming back when chaos died down and the coast was clear, in all contexts.  After she gave birth, he actually had the gall to try and get back together with her, but she kicked him hard in a certain place and then punched him in the face – twice – when he wouldn’t stay down.  (Okay, so admittedly she was taking out more aggravation at herself; maybe he didn’t thoroughly deserve the brunt of such brutal treatment, but she hadn’t had the best experience with guys who refused to take “no” for an answer either.)

While the calamity exposed some awful realities about human nature, she wasn’t the only one who chose to remain behind to aid relief efforts.  Among the scattered, smattering handful of Samaritan citizens left, she had observed another teen around her age (maybe a little younger, if his size was anything to go by).  Although for an excruciating amount of time, he seemed frozen absolute, suspended animation amidst the burning wreckage.  Glazed pupils in a trance, as if unable to process surroundings – before snapping out of stunned stupor into action.  Festinating, fighting frantically through the frightened crowd, urgently racing to rescue as many as he could from the rubble.  At one point he even recklessly risked his own life to dive under a crumbling, unstable column, reacting on impulse in order to save a small child from the structure as it collapsed.  He almost looked more terrified than the toddler afterwards, whole mass trembling (and not just from the aftershock tremors), but he held the crying kid close and soothingly promised it would be okay, that they’d find his parents, that they were okay.  He was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

She didn’t learn who he was until later, when she and the majority of the refugee student body were relocated to Gotham Heights High nearby, since their own cheap institution was devastated beyond immediate repair.  (Eventually it would be rebuilt and renamed, dedicated in honor of the late Mayor Hamilton Hill, who perished during the upheaval.)  The noble sacrifice that stranger demonstrated on that day seemed a stark contrast to his cold reputation, and she admired wonderingly from afar, confused as to how someone could portray two totally different impressions in such a short span.  Deep down, she was sure the brave hero she saw emerge back then was but a flicker of the real self buried underneath frigid fortress’s exterior, convinced that a closed off heart was far kinder and more courageous than the owner let on.

At any rate, she had enough concerns on her own plate for the time being, dealing with the “reminder” her ex had left her of their time spent together.  While she tried to keep the matter discreet, there was no way she could hide such a (literally) huge secret forever – from her mom or from faculty. When the truth came out, some of her (idiot) friends thought it was cool she was having a baby, envying the attention and constant excused absences.  Others displayed their disdainful opinions on the affair, albeit in a more “indirect” manner.  Maybe they were also jealous, or more likely her teammates were mad at her for having missed so many meetings under the pretense of “not feeling well” – only to announce she was officially taking an extended leave right before the big tournament, forcing them to scramble to redo the group floor routine.  (They were already reluctant to let a transfer “rival” join, even though she had easily wowed their coach during tryouts.)  Either way, she arrived one day to find her temp hallway locker coated in graffiti, resentful remarks ranging from “slacker” to “slut”. There were worse labels as the list went on, effectively exhausting the devil’s dictionary:

Bitch.

Bimbo.

Tramp.

Trollop.

Hussy.

Harlot.

Whore.

Dreg.

Some of the comments were so harsh and hurtful she couldn’t – didn’t want to believe they came from anybody she knew.  Given the setting’s free access and availability, anyone could’ve written (and read) those things.  So rather than instantly alert authority, she resolved to stake out between breaks to see if any vandals returned to the scene of the crime.  …By the end of the day though, no one had come forward to gloat or claim responsibility.  She was about to resign herself to letting the culprit(s) go when he of all people suddenly turned up in the vacant corridor – carrying a spraycan.  Crushed by the thought he could’ve been involved – that he was really no better than his hoodlum image – she nearly called him out then and there to give a piece of her mind… when she noticed he was also holding a rag in his other hand.

He had brought cleaning supplies.

Quickly and quietly, he set to work, applying solvent and scrubbing away all the abusive slurs, leaving the cubby sparkling new.  He promptly departed without a word, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. She didn’t know quite what to make of this random act; lending assistance in a crisis was one thing, but for someone to go out of his way to do her a favor when they weren’t even acquaintances went well above and beyond altruism in its own merit.  (It was possible he was erasing evidence out of remorse, but somehow she doubted that.)

She never did get a chance to ask him about it – or to thank him – as her mother marched straight into the administration office upon hearing of the incident and pulled her out for the remainder of the semester, insisting on homeschooling – at least until the fetus finished its own term.  Steph had never seen her looking so strong as in that moment.  The scathing, scolding speech and matronly outline she sharply cut were striking, if somewhat startling.  Their relationship had always been rather rocky, what with the pill addiction and alcoholism and all-around abandonment, but almost losing one’s daughter in a nigh-apocalyptic event tends to put things in perspective.  Maybe she felt guilty for not fully being there for her up through adolescence, blaming herself for any shortcomings.  She took the catastrophe itself as a sign of self-punishment, almost as if it were own fault rather than Mother Nature’s.

Whatever the motive, she really tried after that to make up for lost contact, God bless her.  She got clean – for good this time – started working double shifts at the hospital to pay for damages to the house, all the while singly supporting Stephanie through the labor and adoption proceedings.  Even went on a diet and lost some weight, though they still made sure to set aside time to eat waffles together every morning. Steph wasn’t sure why the woman specifically chose something that only offered empty carbs as their “healthy” bonding agent (she supposed since it was a warm, go-to comfort food; personally she was partial to mashed potatoes herself), but it became tradition, and it stuck – as did their adherence to each other, nonartificial sweetness strengthened with syrup.

When she returned to school, she was mildly more anxious to face friends than foes; to that end, she wasn’t even sure where on the spectrum “that person” lay.  (Incidentally, she gathered he’d also spent some time “away” in the interim, which didn’t do much to dispel his shameful status.)  At this forgone stage, she was uncertain how to broach topics long past to someone she’d still never even had a conversation with.  Plus he always seemed so… difficult to approach, exuding an overwhelmingly daunting lone wolf aura. Finding courage or commonality to confront him was a bold challenge, and she always awkwardly lost her nerve whenever she came close.

Despite his history of misconduct, he was perceptibly bright – brilliant even – when it came to academics. His high exam scores earned him enrollment in accelerated classes in their senior year (although even then it seemed like he was still withholding some superior source of knowledge, moderating only enough surface energy to scrape by), and the advanced placement ahead of her only broadened the unattainable distance between them, no matter how hard she struggled to catch up…  Which made it all the more astonishing that, in the end, he’d willingly accepted a spot in the same local state college rather than a private university.  One might then cynically accuse her of seizing opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, but it was purely by chance she happened to secure a practical arrangement that put them in rough proximity.  Ostensibly though, the only other times their paths managed to fleetingly cross outside of lecture hall took place behind separate, if adjacent bookshelves – until today’s accidental encounter, that is.

As she retrospectively looked on, it seemed he couldn’t sustain the stance for long, dropping posture to hang upside-down for a moment before dismounting.  Again, some kind of subliminal instinct seemed to kick in before he hit the ground, and he stumbled with a heated swear.  She clapped politely in appreciation though, and he jolted at the noise.  Swerving, he snapped without warning:

“Damnit, will you quit bugging me?!”

Her hands halted, shocked by the sudden shout.  He blinked as he registered the spectator, growing more mortified as he became aware of his error.

“Shit.  Sorry, I- thought you were someone else.”

“It’s okay.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He gulped and shuffled uneasily, steadying respiration before attempting to start over.

“So.  It’s you again, huh.”

Hello to you too.

“Hey.  Fancy meeting you here.  We just keep running into each other today, don’t we?”  She ventured what she hoped came off as a friendly jibe to defuse tension, though there was some genuine suspicion behind it.  “You wouldn’t be secretly stalking me, would you?”

He didn’t fall for it. Rather than take the bait, he instead reached casually for a water bottle on the bench beside his bookbag, relatively unfazed by the half-serious allegation.

“That’s my line.”  His tone was almost eerily calm compared to before, as he unscrewed the cap and nonchalantly took a swig.  “I could inquire the same of you, I’ve got a legitimate reason to be here.”

“Oh really.  And what would that be?”

He jerked his head towards the staircase, jabbing a thumb for emphasis.  “The guy downstairs?  He’s my older brother.”

She squinted, distinguishing some physical resemblance now that he brought it up.   “You two are related?”

That… explains a lot actually.

“Not by blood,” he clarified.  “He was also adopted by Mr. Wayne at one point, so technically that makes us step-siblings.”

There was a pronounced privation of fondness in the terse, formal way he delicately articulated their former guardian’s designation, tongue tart and taut as a tightrope.  She hazily recalled reading about the second sensation in the tabloids at the time (alongside an exposé detailing the new ward’s scandalous criminal record).

“Oh right, I saw a, um, documentary on T.V. about that.  …Wait, you mean he’s Grayson as in ‘The Flying Graysons’?  The famous circus act?”

“You didn’t see all the posters in the lobby?”

He pointed over her shoulder at a giant flyer pasted over partition, the enormous wall scroll unambiguously inflating the centerpiece’s ego.

“…Ah.  Guess I must’ve been, er, distracted.”

Irises rolled in exasperation, as if expecting such a reply.  “He tends to have that effect on people.”

Curious concentration transferred from the glossy print back to him as he begrudgingly murmured this. Hard to think the two were connected to each other, if tangentially.  Like day and night, they were.  Tentatively, she tried to gear the dialogue in a different direction, nudging towards an encouraging compliment.

“So that’s how you picked up all the acrobatic stuff?”

“Uh- yeah.  Something like that.”  He winced and rubbed the back of his neck, still seeming uncomfortable with the subject.

“You’re really good at it. That was pretty amazing, what you did just now.  You should consider joining the gymnastics team, the males’ division could probably use some support.  I hear it’s in danger of being cut to provide more funding for contact sports.”  She scoffed inwardly.  Like those jocks need any more budget.

He simply shrugged. “I’m not that great.  My brother’s better.”  …It was pretty plain to see he had a heavily severe inferiority complex. Remarkably though, sourness seemed to subside as a reminiscent, reverent mist remotely shrouded his vision, looking longingly at the faded ruby and gold costume.  “You know he’s the only person in the world who can perform a quadruple somersault?”  There was a touch of envious excitement in his tenor as he placed a hand on the worn placard, smoothing over wrinkles in the parchment.  “…Or he used to be anyway, before the- accident.”

“…Is that also how he lost his eye?”

The clouded veil instantaneously evaporated.

“Sorry.  Was just wondering.”

A voice emanated from the stairwell:

“It’s all right.  I don’t mind you asking.”

The two turned to see the proprietor poised at the top of stairs, leaning over the railing as he took in the picture with an inscrutable countenance.

“It happened during the quake.   Was trying to help some victims trapped in a bus underneath the highway.  Got hit by falling debris in an aftershock.  …Pretty dumb, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that. That was really heroic of you.”

Meanwhile, her other company said nothing, but shot a peculiar look at his brother, who merely beamed benignly back.  There was a blank, stony sort of quality to both their semblances though. Impenetrable.  Stephanie had the inexplicable feeling she was intruding on some mute, confidential exchange between the two, and decided now would probably be a good time to excuse herself.

“…Anyway, would you look at the time.  Guess I should get going.  It’s getting late, and my mom’s expecting me.”

“Of course.  Thank you for stopping by, we hope to see you back again.”

“I’m sure you will.  …Oh, one more question before I go: How do I get to Widowstone Creek from here?”

A brief description of bearings later, Stephanie strolled out the door, now confidently armed with coordinates.  The manager waved with a sunny smile as she left – though it might’ve been her imagination, but the salutation seemed a tad subdued as opposed to earlier reception.

“Bye now!  Take care.”

He subtly elbowed his younger sibling, who sullenly put up a lethargic hand as well.

“Bye.”

Really, could those two be any more different.

The sky had grown grim, but she was still able to navigate her way around well enough as she approached an area she was accustomed to.  She had been right about the place being close to her house, it shouldn’t take her long to get there.  …Although now that she knew where she was headed, she opted at the last minute to cut through a back alley to get to her block without further delay – which turned out to be a colossal, costly mistake.

“Well well, what have we here?”

Stephanie stiffened as she heard the thrum of throaty sniggers and motorbikes, headlights peering through the gloom as they illuminated a score of whitewashed faces, arrayed in garish garb; bright polka dot and patchwork patterns that were even more blinding (like looking through a psychedelic kaleidoscope, or experiencing a bad trip on some of her mom’s pills).  She would’ve been amused by their gaudy guises, if not for the gleaming assortment of weapons they wielded: knives, chains, clubs, hammers, pipes, bats, and of all things – a spiked rubber chicken, which was the only thing that didn’t seem ridiculously out of place in this scenario.  (Scratch that, they still looked ridiculous.)  Brazenly brandishing rusted iron and brass to match their brash appearance, lurid and leering.  She’d seen reports of their mischievous miscreant behavior on the news, but had never directly run into them before.  Outlying residential regions weren’t typically their turf.  …But of course today had to be the day they chose to terrorize her territory instead.

Dear Diary, remind me never to try taking a shortcut again. …Assuming I even make it out of this mess alive, that is.

She thought as she backed up slowly, finding herself fenced in by whooping hyenas, sneering and snickering as they encircled their prey.  A gang of hellion hooligans, rebel riffraff risen up out of the ashes and anarchy following the cataclysm – even more enormous fashion disasters taking after their borrowed namesake:

Jokerz.

Clowns are here to let you know Where you let your senses go Clowns all around you It's a cross I need to bear

[cverture-a]

Date #3 | @residuex

“I want to know everything about you.” Beth admitted, though hoped she wasn’t coming on too strong. She couldn’t help that since they had first met serendipitously, her curiosity had grown in immense fashion.  The problem was further exacerbated by the rate at which they had been making plans to see one another as of late. They’d watched the sky together into the early hours of the night; had partaken in conversation over dinner that he made them before watching a movie she had insisted he could not prolong further; most recently they’d met for coffee, lingering longer in the cafe than the average casual get together. Eventually they had left the welcoming scent of baked goods and coffee beans in favor for a walk throughout Central Park, strolling slowly through the brisk fall air as if they both had been trying to stop time. Before either of them had realized, their eyes found the setting sun over the Central Park Reservoir.

It had only been scarcely a week since they had last been together, their time away spent supplemented with the game of “20 questions” they had begun weeks ago over text messaging; by now they surely had gone above and beyond game requirements,  yet the more she learned the more she felt the need to know about this man that had made a comfortable home in her mind: she was always thinking about him, even when she had no intentions of such. It seemed there was a lot already that reminded her of him.

Ethan made her feel good, and in the purest sense of the word. He radiated a positive light that she had previously only briefly considered as something she could require. Each time they kissed, Beth was certain her knees would turn to jelly and cause her body to collapse in on itself - though a faint voice in her mind told her that even if she were to lose her footing, the last place she would end up was on the ground. Not while he was around.

Earlier in the week she had, though somewhat hesitantly due to a strange fear of rejection, extended an invitation for him to visit her at home - under the guise that they could spend hours laughing at old episodes of America’s Funniest Videos, a cache of which had been recently added to Netflix. In truth, Beth didn’t care much what they did - she only wanted to offer up her time, and hoped he would allow her some of his own in return.

The late afternoon sky had quickly turned shades darker out on the streets of New York, though still lit with ever present street lights. As hours passed with their attention (truly only half) on the television, kernels of popcorn strewn about from a battle they’d had at one point during the marathon. Half-gone bottles of water rested ahead of them on the coffee table, and other than the glow through her windows and from the television, lighting was dim; comfortable.

It’s while Netflix is queuing up the next episode that the words are spoken; head turning to offer a shy glance to the man that sat beside her on the couch. Beth herself was seated with her feet tucked comfortably under her, knees bent and facing him as her elbow provided leverage against the rear cushion - though Ethan was sitting like an actual human being, his back aligned properly with the rear cushion, as was intended by the manufacturer. He had one leg resting on the knee of his other, hand relaxing casually at his ankle. Following the statement, her glance was matched; though a subtle expression of bewilderment caused her smile to stretch thinly before she began to explain.

“Not in like, a serial-killer-i’m-gonna-stalk-you-and-kill-everyone-you-love-because-if-i-can’t-have-you- nobody-will kind of way.” Smooth, Johanssen.“It’s just that I sometimes find myself thinking about you. Wondering. Little things, like your favorite food. Or what your favorite time of day - or, right now, how crazy you think I am.” A nervous laugh escaped briefly parted lips before they once again formed a thin line, her hand fumbling as it entangled with its other. It couldn’t be hastened, the nerves nor the notion that perhaps she was beginning to go insane. It did, however,  help to hear his chuckle of amusement from her string of words. Beth was thankful that at least she was entertaining, if nothing else.

“Those are bad examples, “ she began again, rambling away as if to offer up a better explanation. “I’ve never really wondered what your favorite time of day is. What I really mean to say is that I hope our game of twenty questions never has to end. Those text messages are often the best part of my day.” Except when she was actually able to see him, though she felt this may have been obvious without having to be so blatantly admitted. “I don’t know where all of this is coming from, and I apparently cannot stop talking.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at herself, though became flustered as she stole another glance and met his eyes. The words ceased, then. They’d continue to fail if she tried to explain the way her heart began to pound, how her palms began to sweat and her mind was scarce of thought that pertained to anything but Ethan Andrews. It surprised her, the sudden need to communicate - and more specifically so, the need to communicate her emotions.

“Did you know that I started to develop software to help establish the idea of a ‘smart home?’” Beth didn’t mind changing the topic. She had begun to feel as though she had three heads, unsure of the level of vulnerability she was revealing to him - unsure if she would only end up making a fool of herself. “I headed up a software start-up with that very intention. My team and I coded various applications that most people are pretty familiar with. You know Alexa? Amazon’s cloud service? My company invented the fundamental code that allows her to turn lights off in a home, or change the temperature without having to do anything but speak.”

She was proud, sure. Yet nothing made Beth Johanssen more proud than her accomplishments of the ARES mission; how she had birthed the basic coding systems that operated Hermes, which would shuttle astronauts for missions to come to and from Mars. She understood it better than the back of her own hand, and sometimes she still found herself sifting through memorized sequences in her mind in order to further better the ship’s workings. As time passed, some algorithms became redundant or obsolete, and it had been her job to cultivate the best working operating system available.

“Selling the start-up had been easy, but saying goodbye to Hermes? That was hard.”

⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛

She didn’t know what time it was - nor did she particularly care to know it,  because as the moments had passed they settled into more comfortable positions on the couch. Beth’s knees were pulled to her chest and he was hunched forward, closer to where Ethan sat, turned with full attention to the woman who’d spent three years in space. Their heads were nestled close together against the shared back cushion of the couch and she could scarcely stand refraining from reaching out to hold her palm to the side of his face, or to allow her fingers to join with his. It was foreign to her, the urgency to feel such subtle affection. Even more so was the desire to give it - and yet the longer she sat looking at him, the stronger the feeling became.

“There are so many stories I could tell you,” she began again, after the silence had hung in the air between them. It had not felt awkward, though she noted that it had been strange that even in silence, being with Ethan felt right.

It was only another hour later that she caught herself yawning in the middle of explaining one of the many training exercise she and the rest of the crew had to complete before launch, keeping the conversation flowing with tidbits of dialogue that had mostly been from Martinez or Watney; the comedians of the crew — Or so they both thought. Beth was capable of staying awake for hours - often days - at time, but she realized that while she had that ability, not everyone was an insomniac like her; not everyone was often afraid to fall asleep. Hesitantly, she sat up in attention before rising,  her feet planted firmly on the coolness of her hardwood floor. Her sleepy doe eyes peered down at him, a smile offered in assurance before she spoke with further invitation.

“Come to bed?”

⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛

The sleep that they did have were mere spans of thirty minutes at a time wedged between conversations ranging from topic to topic; stories they’d shared with one another, more questions asked and answered. She would ask about his days teaching and in return offer up tales of her time off-planet. They’d offer up comment when deemed necessary, a chuckle here are there or the occasional hint that they were still awake. Beth had been happy when she whispered in question if he had fallen asleep and received no answer, her eyes glancing beside her at the man whose eyes were closed. He looked peaceful, and for a moment she committed the shadows on his face to her memory. Soon enough, he had woken again and they had proceeded with drowsy discussion.  In the moments that became more serious, Beth found herself inching closer to where he lay beside her; a silent expression of thanks for him being there - that he was someone she could be happy to share things with - including her bed. And unexpectedly, her heart.

Eventually they had both drifted off, Beth having burrowed herself in closer to his chest so that her face was almost pressed tightly to the fabric of his shirt. As if he were waiting for permission to do so, she moved her hand to guide his arm - allowing it to drape over her small frame - his hand respectfully finding it’s place on her back. Before succumbing to slumber, she would later recall a feeling of relief wash over her; could anything truly  ever be this good again?

⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛⏳⌛

”Ta-daaaaaa, it’s an Eggo Triple Decker Extravaganza!” On the plate revealed three toasted Eggo waffles, between each layer was whipped cream and assorted types of Halloween candy; mostly chocolates such as Hershey kisses and Reese's pieces, but there were gummy worms hidden beneath the fluffy clouds of white. Beth had been given the idea from the recent release of the second season of Stranger Things, having quickly decided that she wanted to make the treat herself; it was simple enough, she thought, that not even she could mess it up.

“I don’t exactly expect you to eat this because it’s an obscene amount of sugar, but I did manage to warm up a few croissants.” It was important to note her words: warm up. Not for a second was Beth claiming to have actually baked the buttery, flaked rolls herself, but rather she had them purchased them the day before - with other breakfast trappings: orange juice and various fresh fruit she had found at the market - in preparation for a morning she was hoping she would be able to share with him. She had promised him breakfast after all, and so breakfast indeed he would have.

“Here we are again,” Beth’s eyes found him then, a wide and warm smile spread across her features. “In my kitchen, drinking coffee. Eating breakfast.” It was obvious that she was referring to the first morning they had known one another - she had found him making breakfast in the very same spot she stood in now. Though the previous experience had been much more tense; awkward, given that they hadn’t technically known one another then. Life was funny, sometimes. It was comical to reflect back on it now and Beth couldn’t stop herself from extending upon her tippy-toes, her hand resting upon his arm to steady her balance, to place a gentle kiss on the side of his face - and another quickly against the corner of his lips. “I’m really glad you’re here, Ethan.”