#and frankly I have to keep biting back telling you all to go fuck yourselves on the grounds that I'm just... full of fucking anger right no

[medicinemane]

Well, I'm getting to do therapy, ultra mega super fucking extreme edition for my mom today

She's having a fucking breakdown cause GOP cost cutting means medicaid is being a bitch and being like if you're on medicare you no longer qualify for medicaid unless you can work and then and only then will we let you do a buy in

It's bullshit, it sucks, it's a stupid and broken system and someone being on disability should count as any work, but she's having one of the most extreme fucking breakdowns of all time over it

Like we're talking going on about how it's all her fault that the cats died who were living in the trailer cause of how toxic she let that place become, or that she's an utterly selfish person... and I'm sat here having to find ways to spin shit because she puts me in a position where in order to get her functional... what? I say "yeah, pretty much"?

Then she's like "I apologize for anything I've ever done to you", not accepted and never will be. You're doing shit to me right this fucking second with this

There's no atonement and that's kind of tough shit, and maybe if you wanted atonement don't make me parent you right now

I'm having to talk her down from being suicidal, cause I'm fucking Machiavellian with shit and I need that disability check to keep coming in

She's crying and just having the biggest breakdown she's probably had since one of my worst memories which I'm actively working to suppress cause I can't deal with it right now. She's fucking going over the various ghost shit and apologizing for it, and it's like I don't fucking care, stop fucking trying to pure and make yourself the horror that made everything awful... you're pretending to take responsibility, but what you're really doing is demanding I absolve you of everything

You know, the shit she's saying and the shit I was saying yesterday aren't that different. We both think we're hugely worthless pieces of shit who are totally unlovable (and my grandma is probably to blame for both mindsets)

Difference is that for as much as I downplayed it and said it didn't even count as cleaning, I was fucking moving like 10 boxes around to try and get things in a state where I can figure out how to clean shit, where as she's a totally nonfunctional mess

Like as much as everyone seems to want to bitch about when I'm... literally just trying to share how not ok I'm doing as best I fucking can, even when I'm at my lowest I'm still trying to work on shit

...also, one thing that's different between her and me is I've never been emotionally incestuous with my kid to the point where the very concept of family makes them sick, made them be my parent, and am now forcing them to be my therapist despite the fact the emotionally engaging with them is one of the single most destructive things I can do

I don't know... I'm real shit today, I'm gonna have to be in the car for like 4 but really more like 6 hours with her cause of the way she drives, cause I've got to go see family today and it's gotta be today cause that's when my uncle's around

I'm basically... fucking animating myself, like I'm in that state where you're not letting yourself fall apart cause you gotta hold it together cause you don't have a choice (oh, and I haven't fucking slept cause right when I was gonna go to bed I got summoned to come play therapist)

I'm shit right now, and I was already in a bad way... and in fact I'm doing so badly that I can't even maintain my normal fucking facades and politeness... nope, turns out that's not true and in fact my facades run deeper than I do and I 100% am still not gonna say certain things

But yeah, it's a shit day, one of the worst in a while cause it's probably the worst my mom's been in like... two decades... so that's fucking great huh?

Bonus, this bullshit with medicaid has cut her therapy sessions

If anyone gets to be pissed at them it's me, and I fucking am pissed, they can go fuck themselves, and everyone who votes to cute medicaid can know that I personally dislike them immensely

Unlike my mom though I'm not a literal fucking 12 year old (not even kidding, her problem is she's emotionally still like 12 or 14, she's literally fucking stunted there). Unlike her... I fucking function even when I'm doing bad

But serious, I was awful yesterday, just absolutely one of my low points. Only reason maybe I seem better today is basically the emotional equivalent of adrenaline

I'd be falling apart right now except for the part where I never actually fall apart or have breakdowns

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Young Avengers 🦅 | Marvel Headcanon

Takes place during Phase 4 of the MCU

Link to my marvel Masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no

Being a young former Black Widow and forming a team with Shuri, Kate, Elijah, Joaquin, and Kid Loki would look like:

To be honest you weren’t to fazed with the idea of forming a team with the younger crowd of up and coming superheroes. Sure you had been friends with Shuri since 2018 and met the others through Sam, Clint, and Thor, but the idea of creating a team like the Avengers never crossed your mind until Shuri proposed the idea. “Ain’t that Val lady forming her own team? Or Secretary Ross is, they’re calling them the Thunderbolts? Yelena was telling me about it—anyway, point is if there’s already a new team of heroes then why make our own?” “Calling them heroes is a little…far fetched if we’re being honest. They are more like the Dark Avengers—and no I was not trying to make a joke. You look at who she’s recruiting and it’s literally that. Think of us as their antithesis.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that with you literally going, “Fuck it. Let’s do it—might actually give me shit to do now that the world has gone to shit trying to get back to the way it was.” Within the hour you were pulling up to a hangar to meet the others. They all looked excited except Kid Loki. He looked rather annoyed being there—really it was Thor’s idea to have him join to keep him out of trouble. “It was either this or join him in his adventures across space. Frankly I’d rather stay in one place after escaping the Void.”

Considering you all are some of the most powerful and intelligent kids on the planet, there is bound to be some restrictions. Likely y’all would be staying at Avengers compound or create your own base camp but there would still be oversight. If Fury is not dealing with the Kree then he and Maria are who y’all report to. Other than them, the veteran Avengers tend to look after you guys—like Sam and Clint. “So since you’re now Captain America and you’re technically retired, does that make Torres the Falcon and Bishop Hawkeye?” “If that’s what they want to go by. You’re still called Black Widow aren’t ya?” “Touché”

So there you have it. Shuri: The Black Panther, Joaquin: the Flacon, You: the Black Widow, Kate: Hawkeye, Kid Loki, & Elijah: The Patriot.

As expected you’re a rambunctious group of heroes. Sometimes y’all find yourselves in trouble when you weren’t planning on it. Trouble just finds you guys 90% of the time. Agent Everett Ross has a whole supply of advil because keeping track of you all gives him a headache. “You’re job was to get it, get the intel, and get the hell out of there. What went wrong?” “Well…….as you can see um….yeah I have no explanation. Shuri you got anything?” “Nope. Torres, you?” “I can’t even remember what we were doing there.”

One time on a mission you guys actually ran into the Thunderbolts and it was quite the scene. First of all you and Yelena were like, “Hey sis! What are you doing here?” Meanwhile Bucky was scolding Elijah & Torres and Walker was getting annoyed with Kid Loki’s tricks. Kate just looked out of place while Shuri was trying to calm everyone down, “It seems there has been a misunderstanding. Unless….it was the plan for all of us to be here.” “What are you saying, Shuri?” “I believe our teams were set up, white wolf. Why else would both of us be called to the same place, for the same exact thing, on the same day?”

Having a genius like Shuri on your team meant you guys were equipped with some of the best technological advances than anyone else. Even the Thunderbolts were envious of y’all’s artillery. Not only did Joaquin get an upgrade on his falcon wings, but Kate got high tech trick arrows, Elijah a vibranium shield, kid Loki with a scepter and you got some additions to your Widow’s bite and suit. “Shit, I feel like I could take down even Thanos with these.” “Try not to show them off to much, Widow. Secretary Ross is still trying to get me to develop stuff for the Thunderbolts and i’ve given him the impression I’m not even advancing our weaponry. So..keep it on the down low.”

After some time as a team, you guys would recruit Kamala Khan, RiRi Williams and Cassie Lang as y’all’s Ms. Marvel, IronHeart & Stinger. Peter Parker would eventually join, bringing in his buddy Ned and America Chavez who were Masters of The Mystic Arts. The team grew so large y’all could actually split you guys up when multiple missions came in. With their initiation, Dr. Strange, Captain Marvel, and Scott Lang joined Sam, Clint, Fury, Ross, and Hill as ‘chaperones’.

“So what do we call ourselves?” “The Young Avengers.” “Isn’t that a derivative?” “Yeah, but it sounds less menacing than Dark Avengers or the Thunderbolts. I mean we are Avengers…just we’re young so it fits.” “True…”

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Sleeping With The Enemy II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Part 3 of 3

Summary: Being a Slytherin yourself doesn’t make you hate Malfoy any less. So why can’t you stop fantasizing about him? (18+)

PART 1 PART 2

A/N: I’m thinking of combining this concept with another series that I’m planning rn because I had so much fun writing this mini series! I hope you guys like the ending! Thank you so much for your support! <3

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, Words: 3.2k Warnings: post-war Hogwarts, smut, swearing, oral sex (male receiving)

Once again, an image was stuck in your mind.

This time however, it was way worse than your ex and Pansy. It was of Draco Malfoy and Pansy. Of his hips thrusting into her; of her legs wrapped around his waist, accompanied by the sound, sweaty bodies slapping against each other. It haunted you whenever you closed your eyes, it followed you into your dreams that night. You still couldn’t believe that happened to you. Twice in one week.

At breakfast you could barely look at them. You sat at the far end of the table, next to Millicent, keeping your head down. In your first period, it was the same. You were glad they were both seated behind you. Well, until Professor Slughorn decided to pair you into groups. He chose Malfoy as your partner.

What a huge surprise.

Of fucking course.

“Did you sleep well last night?”, Malfoy asked nonchalantly while reading the instructions.

You almost dropped the glass of snails. “Exceptionally well,” you then said and cleared your throat. You didn’t have to look at Malfoy to know that he was smirking. Clenching your teeth, you continued working in silence.

Malfoy spoke again after a few moments. “Never would have thought you’d be into something like that.” He walked past you to grab a bottle with snake blood from the other side of the table. When he did that, his arms brushed your side. You hated yourself for the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Something like what?”, you asked innocently. “The smell of honey?” You gestured towards the cauldron where a pink liquid bubbled, smelling like honey and wildflowers. The potion could let the person who drinks from it forget anything they want. How fitting, you thought. Exactly what you needed right now. It was also extremely toxic when given too much.

“Watching.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. “Don’t, Malfoy.” You kept your eyes on the liquid. “If I didn’t know it’d kill me, I’d stick my head into the cauldron right now to erase the memory from my mind. So can we please just … forget it. Please?”

“Begging suits you.”

You groaned. “Fucking hell, Malfoy.” Everything seemed to be a joke to him.

The blonde Slytherin chuckled at your reaction and for the first time since you started working together, you looked at him. His stormy eyes sparkled with mischief and he lowered his voice when he continued: “I don’t want to forget about it.”

Me either. You stared at him.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy, are you making progress?”, the voice of your Professor made you flinch. Slughorn had appeared next to you, looking curiously into the cauldron.

“We’re almost there, Sir,” Malfoy replied and your cheeks burned. “Almost there.”

***

The remaining lessons of the day followed the same plot - you sat far away from Malfoy and Pansy and avoided eye contact at all costs. It worked perfectly - until your eyes accidentally wandered over to his table.

He wasn’t writing. His quill layed loosely in his hand and his gaze was fixated on you. Only then you realized what you did - 

You bite down on your lip when you concentrate or listen to the professors, Malfoy had said during that faithful night where you first talked, combine that with your skirt riding up your thighs and …

You crossed your legs, causing your skirt to ride up even higher. Malfoy shifted in his seat. When you felt the soft tingling in your stomach, you turned your head away.

***

“Theo, if you don’t stop eyefucking that Hufflepuff right now, you’re gonna sit on the bench and watch today. I am not losing against Gryffindor - again,” Blaise looked at the Chaser with narrowed eyes.

Your team members chuckled and Theo only rolled his eyes at Blaise - however not before winking at the 6th year Hufflepuff who gave him a little wave in response as she walked towards the stairs.

You stood outside the Slytherin locker rooms, all dressed in your quidditch uniforms. Today was the second game of the season and your team captain was dead set on winning it.

“Maybe Y/N should sit on the bench today, Blaise,” Malfoy suggested. “I heard she’s good at watching.”

You clenched your jaw. “Then you probably also heard that I’m even better at kicking your ass.”

“Please,” he raised one eyebrow. “I want to see you try.”

“Alright, whatever this is, stop it.” Blaise sighed. Apparently, the whole team seemed a little distracted today. “This is the second game of this year but it’ll also be the first game we win. So, pull yourselves together and make the Gryffindors regret the day they were born.”

You lost the game.

It was embarrassing, really. In the history of Quidditch, not once did Slytherin loose this high to the Gryffindors. When you walked off the field afterwards, heads hanging and accompanied by the laughter and songs of the Gryffindors, Blaise was fuming. It came to no surprise to you that he ordered you and Malfoy inside the boys locker room, after everyone had left.

“Both of you - in here,” he demanded in a sharp tone. Draco returned from the far end of the room while buttoning his shirt. You leaned against the doorframe, annoyed and frankly tired. A lecture from your team captain was the last thing you needed right now, considering you’d get one at the next training session anyways. Blaise looked back and forth between you and Malfoy before announcing: “Get your shit together?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What?”

“We all get it, you hate each other,” Blaise began. Malfoy snorted. “But if you let this affect our Quidditch games I have no choice but to …”

“To what?”, the blond one asked.

“Kick you off the team.”

Your eyes widened and you straightened up, taking a step inside. “So, Malfoy is the one who keeps making inappropriate comments and I’m the one who gets kicked off the team?!” You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Are you for real, Blaise?”

He looked at you calmly. “You are distracted.”

“Because he distracts me.” You gestured at Malfoy who rolled his eyes.

“During the last training sessions, you didn’t focus and kept your eyes on him instead of the Quaffel. Didn’t matter whether or not Draco said something beforehand,” Blaise said. “So, to answer your question - yes, I’m for real.” 

You swallowed. You were speechless (and a little embarrassed). You opened your mouth but then closed it again.

“Don’t, Draco,” Blaise shot his friend an annoyed glance. You quickly noticed why - Malfoy watched you, amused. He obviously held back a grin. When Blaise confronted him, he gave a dismissive wave. “Give it a rest, Zabini.”

“No, I won’t,” Blaise scoffed, “stop trying to get her attention unless it’s Quidditch related. It’s annoying and I won’t allow it in my team.” He looked back and forth between you again. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Malfoys voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes.” You nodded, anger still burning inside of you. Blaise nodded, not content but slightly less mad, and left. You decided to find him later and talk a little sense into him.

It was quiet for a while.

“Should have fucked him when you had the chance.” Apparently Malfoy was incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself - no matter how stupid they were.

“Oh, when will you ever shut up?!”, you sneered at him. “I can’t believe you almost got me kicked out of the team!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

“Right,” you laughed bitterly. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You stare at me, you make inappropriate -”

“Stop saying I’m the one who’s inappropriate when you literally watched me fuck your best friend last night.” 

This managed to shut you up. You gasped at his words and then the image appeared in front of your eyes again. His hair that was still messy from the shower resembled his hair from last night after Pansy had tugged on it and run her fingers through it.

“Did you know we’d meet there?”, Draco continued. “Did Pansy tell you?”

“Of course not!”, you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with you!”

“What’s wrong with you for not leaving?” Malfoy walked towards you until only a few steps separated you.

“You would have caught me!”

“I caught you anyways.”

“I’m sorry,” the apology left your mouth before you could think about it.

You saw a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “For what?”

“I should have left.”

Malfoy looked at you. He was so close. So awfully close that you could smell his spearmint shampoo. And there was something else … something beneath that fresh scent. He smelled like sex. You smelt it before, you realized. But this time … this time it was because of you.

“Why didn’t you?”, Draco finally asked in a low voice.

“I couldn’t.” You were trapped in his gaze.

“Why?” He moved his hands slightly and they brushed against yours. Your breath shuddered.

“Because I keep thinking about -”, you trailed off.

“About what?”

“What you said that night.” The words were barely a whisper. You were scared he might have not understood you, unsure about whether or not you could repeat them.

“Do you want me to turn it into a reality?”

Your heart began to pump faster in your chest, you were scared it might jump out of it. The second the question left his mouth, you knew the answer to it. Your body knew the answer to it. The way, the hair on your arms and neck stood up, told you.

It would be like an itch. You would scratch it once (maybe twice) and then it would be gone. Forgotten. You could go back to hating him and finally start grieving your lost relationship. Your breathing hitched when he tilted his head and his eyes dropped to your lips.

“Yes,” you said.

Your lips collided and the world stood still.

You felt his hands on your hips immediately, pulling you closer to him, as his lips worked tirelessly against yours. When they parted, his tongue slipped into your mouth and it swallowed the soft moan. Before the war, before he became a Death Eater, there were rumours floating through Hogwarts passed by giggling girls and jealous boys. How many times did you hear Pansy swoon over the way he kisses, the way his lips taste against hers? Countless times. And yet, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He was leading and it came to no surprise to you. You lost yourself in him, all the doubts and anger and embarrassment from the past days faded away, and all that was left were his lips against yours. His hands found your hair, tugging on it sharply to expose your neck. You whined when he traveled down to kiss the sensitive skin on there.

“Fuck,” you whispered as he sucked on the skin before abruptly pushing him away.

Draco looked up, visibly confused. You smirked, your hand still on his chest, as he walked backwards until he felt the bench against the back of his legs. You pushed him down and straddled him, your skirt riding up your thigh. When you let your hips roll against him, you heard it again - the same low moan from the night before. It resonated within you, causing you to press yourself tighter against him and deepen the kiss. You felt his erection and an ache began to grow inside of you. Just feeling it like this … you could imagine how big he truly must be. You wanted, no, you needed to see it, feel it, taste it. 

His hands searched for the hem of your skirt and you felt his fingers trailing up your thigh. “Not yet,” you whispered and playfully pushed them away. Keeping your eyes locked, you slid down his lap and in between his legs. A smirk spread to his lips as you unzipped his pants.

His cock sprung free, fully erect and dripping. You gulped at the sight, your panties dampening. You reached for his shaft and Draco let out a sharp hiss when you gave it a few good, hard strokes. His breathing became ragged and when the look in his eyes darkened, you leaned forward and licked over the length of his cock. Your tongue circled over the top and you moaned when you tasted the salty precum.

“Tease,” Draco mumbled and you chuckled.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” you whispered in response.

“I want you to take my cock in your mouth,” he said, “take it like the - ah, fuck!”

Your mouth closed around his shaft and he let his head fall back. His eyes fluttered shut as you began to bop your head up and down. You couldn’t take him all in so your hand pumped him in the same rhythm as you sucked him off. Moans and curses escaped his lips. “I knew there was a reason why I wanted to fuck you all this time.” 

You moaned around him, the familiar ache growing stronger and stronger inside of you. It was the same sensation you had felt the night prior. But now you weren’t forced to stand aside while he fucked another girl - now you were the one making him tremble. Draco’s hand found your hair, guiding you.

You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat and he cursed. “Good girl,” he was out of breath, “sucking my dick like the good little slut you are …”

You looked up at him through your lashes - and you thought he looked beautiful the night before? Well, this was truly a sight for the gods. Seeing him staring down at you, his blonde hair hanging down messily, his eyes dark with lust - if your panties weren’t completely soaked before, they sure as hell were now.

You sensed that he was close. His legs started to tremble, he tightened the grip in your hair, and then he abruptly pulled you up. If you had it your way, he would come inside of your mouth. You wanted nothing more than for him to release himself inside of you as he fucked your mouth. Draco had different plans. 

He got up, his clothes falling to the ground quickly, and pushed you against the locker room wall. You licked over your lips before his mouth claimed yours again in a hungry kiss. He ripped at your blouse, buttons clattering on the ground. His hands explored your body, grabbing and squeezing and then he finally, finally, slipped underneath your skirt and panties. You moaned loudly when his fingers teasingly stroked over your wet folds.

“Oh, you’re soaked, darling,” he chuckled cockily.

“Shut up and touch me already,” you shot back.

“Your wish is my command.” You felt the smile against your skin and then pleasure exploded inside of you. His fingers circled over your clit, stroking, teasing, flicking over the sensitive skin and your moans turned into whimpers and pleads and begs. With every movement of his hand did he push you closer to the edge. You were so close, so fucking close - Draco stopped.

Your eyes flew open in anger but then you felt him pressing against your entrance. He looked at you, his grey eyes searching for something in yours - you nodded. The simple sign of consent wasn’t enough.

“Ask for it,” he growled.

You snorted. “What?”

His thumb flicked over your clit once more and you moaned. “Shit,” you managed to get out breathlessly. “Oh, fuck me, Malfoy!”

His cock pressed against you. You would just have to buckle your hip and he would slip inside of you. “I said,” his hot breath sent shivers down your spine, “ask for it and say my name!”

You whimpered. “Please, Draco, please will you fuck me? I need you.”

He thrusted into you in one swift movement. Your walls stretched around him and it was almost too much. The pleasure almost bordered on pain, but gods, if this wasn’t the most delicious pain you had ever felt in your life. He gave you only a little time to adjust before he started pounding into you.

“You have no idea what you did to me last night,” he whispered in between sloppy kisses. “When I saw you …”

“It was so fucking hot,” you said, another loud moan escaping your mouth as he sped up. For a second you were scared someone might hear you and come in but the thought got chased away when Draco groaned in your ear.

“I forgot all about her, I only thought about fucking you. The look in your eyes … let me see them …”

His hips stuttered when your eyes met. Your body arched against him when he shifted, hitting that sweet spot from a different position. You didn’t think it was possible for you to become even wetter but slick juices ran down your leg. “I thought about you tonight,” you whimpered, “touching me … taking me …”

It was true. When Draco and Pansy had left the Astronomy Tower and you were up there all alone, a moment of weakness overcame you. The pleasure inside of you had grown too strong and in the haze of the aftermath, your body craved release. You came silently, the image of his grey eyes staring at you still in your mind. Shame had followed quickly. Shame and embarrassment by what you did.

“Fuck,” Draco groaned before he loses all control. There was nothing sweet or slow about his thrusts anymore - he fucked you violently, took you as he pleased. His hands gripped you so tightly, you knew it would leave bruises but the sharp pain was drowned out by the pleasure. It built and built inside of you; your legs started shaking and then you heard him calling out your name before the orgasmn rolled over you like a wave. You held onto him desperately, cursing loudly as you came all over his cock. Draco followed shortly after, pounding into you, moans escaping his throat, until he finally released himself. Warmth spread inside of you and you shuddered.

Your breath trembled as you rode out the last waves of the orgasm. When Draco pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness allowed a last, short whimper to escape your mouth. He lowered you to the ground carefully, before sitting down next to you.

You leaned against the wall with your eyes closed. When your breathing calmed down you turned your head towards him. He looked at you, his chest rising and falling steadily.

“I understand the hype now,” you said after a few more moments.

He raised an eyebrow. “The hype?”

“Around you,” you make a vague gesture in his direction. “I understand now.”

Draco snorted. “I’m flattered,” he said dryly. “But this wasn’t my best work.”

“It wasn’t?”

He shook his head.

“Then what is?”, you asked curiously.

“Get under the shower and I show you.”

***

HP Masterlist 

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[goalcaufield]

lips are sealed - alex vlasic

request: ok but the boys tease you and vlassy all the time bc youre obvs into each other and one day they actually catch you guys like making out on the kitchen counter and they freak out bc peoPLE EaT tHEre

word count: 1163

you’re minding your own business, watching trevor and alex play each other in a game of chel, when you feel your phone vibrate on your lap. when you look at the person who texted you, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the fact it’s alex - your boyfriend, who’s sitting right next to you. 

lex<3: meet me upstairs in 5?

y/n<3: how about 3?

lex<3: sounds like a plan princess

you smile down at your phone, but that smile doesn’t last long once you feel alex’s elbow jab into your side. “ow! what was that for, vlasic?” you grumble, your hand going to rub at your skin where alex elbowed you.

“why were you smiling at your phone, huh?” alex gives you a knowing look - you and alex never got a second to yourselves. being jack’s sister and all, having turcotte living with you guys, and being the designated hang out spot, alex was never able to come out and hang out with just you without someone getting suspicious of the two of you. and you didn’t know how jack would react to the news, so you figured you would continue to keep your relationship of two months a secret.

“oh shut up, vlassy. you’re just jealous she’s not smiling because of you,” johnny rolls his eyes, looking up from his phone at the two of you. alex starts to giggle under his breath, because of course you were smiling because of alex. alex didn’t want to say anything out loud in case someone heard, so texting you was the only safe option. 

“what are you talking about beecher?” alex plays it off, his hand grabbing the pillow off the side of the couch and chucking it at johnny. “we’ve been over this. i don’t know why you guys think we like each other.”

trevor pauses him and turcotte’s game and turns to look at you and alex, giving both of you a stern look. “you ‘don’t know why’ we think you guys like each other? come on! you guys are always next to each other. always whispering and giggling. and god, vlasic you really think you’re slick with your arm around y/n in photos? but i’m sure it’s just a coincidence you’re always near her, right?”

“why are you guys only coming at me? y/n’s a part of this too!” your mouth drops open at alex throwing you under the bus. “sorry, y/n/n.”

“yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes. “i’m going upstairs to get a water bottle, does anyone want anything while i’m up?”

the boys start barking their orders at you, which consist of gatorade, or protein bars, or other various snacks and drinks you guys had in the hughes household. you roll your eyes as you stand up, and catch as spencer nudges alex from the other side.

“go on, vlassy. be a gentleman. don’t make her carry everything back down on her own,” spencer teases alex who lets out a huff.

“you heard the man. let’s go, y/n.”

jack finally looks up from his phone, giving alex a death glare in the process. “are you sure we shouldn’t send someone up there to keep an eye on them? because knighter, i think you’re the perfect candidate for that.” 

you block the boys out as you walk up the stairs of the basement, alex following closely behind you. once you two are out of sight, alex’s hand meets the small of your back. he reaches in front of you to push the basement door open, and you reach behind you to grab his hand.

“god, we’ve never gonna catch a break, are we?” alex mumbles and you giggle softly, looking over your shoulder and shaking your head.

“no lex, we’re not. not until we actually tell them we’re dating, which quite frankly i’m terrified to do so,” you front as the two of you walk into the kitchen. you immediately start grabbing some of the things the boys requested, and once you grab the drinks you place them on the island counter. “are you gonna help me lex?” you quip, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend as you reach up to grab the box of protein bars. alex looks up from his phone, a goofy smile on his face.

“i don’t think i’m gonna be that much help, princess,” he laughs, which only gets louder when he watches you try to reach up to grab the box.

“lex, i can’t reach it,” you grumble. “you’re literally going to have to help me.”

alex stops forward, one of his arms snaking around your waist and the other one extending up to the top shelf to grab it, his tall figure towering over your. but once alex places it on the counter, he dips his head and uses his hand to brush the hair away from your neck allowing his lips to kiss your skin.

“alex,” his name passes through your lips as a whisper and you lean your head to the side to allow him better access. his lips barely graze your skin but it’s enough to give you butterflies. “we have to be careful.”

alex hums against your skin affirmatively, but his hands meet your hips and turn you around so you’re facing him. alex then dips his head to kiss you, his hands sliding from your hips down to your thighs as you moan softly against his lips. it had felt like forever since you had properly been able to kiss him - a kiss that wasn’t just a quick peck on the lips after he conveniently “forgotten” something at your house.

alex mumbles a, “jump.” against your lips and you do so, alex then lifting you onto the counter top while his lips continue to move against yours. one of his large hands travels up the shirt you have on, fingertips brushing over the elastic band of your sports bra making your breath hitch in your chest. 

you wrap your legs around alex’s waist to bring his body as close to you as you possibly could right as alex’s other hand spreads across your back to pull you into his body. you pull away for a moment to catch your breath, “are you sure we can’t go upstairs?”

alex giggles, his head falling into your neck to nip at the skin. “no, princess. we can’t. something tells me your brothers wouldn’t exactly enjoy it if they found us in the same bed together.”

you groan, but alex silences it when his lips meet yours once more, him biting your lower lip just enough to ease a small moan from you.

and at the worst possible moment too.

“what the fuck.” 

immediately, alex pulls away from your lips and you’re straightening your t-shirt out, staring at the entryway of the kitchen where jack, alex, spencer, johnny, and trevor are all standing with their mouths dropped open.

“we can explain.” 

[starlightstevie]

fics rec / april 2020

And I’m back with another fic rec! Here’s my favourite reads from the last month - hope you guys enjoy these as much as I did! Happy reading!

* = smut previous recs

star wars

Poe Dameron

*First Time for Everything by @damndamer0n Poe Dameron x reader: Sleeping together counts as anger management, right?

*Body Shots by @damndamer0n​ Poe Dameron x reader: What better way is there to get to know someone than licking salt off their skin?

*Nightbloom by @rzrcrst Poe Dameron x reader: After accidentally landing miles from the nearest village, you and Poe have to trek through dense forest to get to camp. But what happens when you run into a patch of strange looking flowers?

*thigh riding with poe by @damerondjarin​

Mando

*Rough Day series by @no-droids​ Mando x reader

*Bad Dreams by @wadedickpool Part One | Part Two Mando x reader: You and Mando get to talking after you have a particular dream about him, but the talk may or may not be related to the events of this dream.

*Bite Marks by @sirius​ Mando x reader: The bounty was supposed to be easy. All five mercenaries were dudebro fuckbois with high prices on their heads and a habit of pissing off the wrong people. They were all expected to be at the same club, too, which meant that you just had to flaunt some skin and purr honeyed promises and they’d be in the palm of your hands.The bounty was supposed to be fucking easy. It wasn’t.

*The Split by @whenimaunicorn​ Part One | Part Two  Mando x reader: Reader is a fellow Nevarran bounty hunter, working with the Mandalorian to catch a quarry and splitting the reward. They keep renegotiating the split until passions spark and other, kinkier interests start slipping out.

other

*headcannon: how star wars characters eat pussy by @gyllenwh0re

other pedro pascal characters

Futile Devices series by @zeldasayer​ Part One | Part Two | *Part Three Javier Peña x reader: After completing your first year at The Juilliard School, you expect to spend the summer how you have your whole life - at your parent’s sprawling estate in Northern Italy. Raised by married and acclaimed novelists Christian & Daisy Slattery, this year Christian has invited his old college friend and fellow writer Javier Peña to stay with his family and collaborate on a new novel. Indifferent at first, you quickly find yourself embarking on a long, hot summer with Javier. 

*Dial Tone by @cptnbvcks Javier Peña x reader: You decide to have some fun with Javi (and Murphy) after feeling a little bored while he’s at work.

*imagine cumming without maxwell’s permission by @zeldasayer​

marvel

Steve Rogers

*Rough Touch by @prettyyoungtragedy​ Steve Rogers x reader: Steve Rogers needs to be in control and you happily submit to him.

*Not Afraid Anymore by @shotsbyshae​ Steve Rogers x reader: There is a reason Nick Fury assigned you to Steve Rogers. You’ll tell him one day.  

*Toes by @tropicalcap​ Steve Rogers x reader: Steve Rogers doesn’t like you, but that doesn’t stop him from showing up on your doorstep.

Bucky Barnes

*Behind the Scenes series by @world-of-aus​ Bucky x reader: In which you write fan-fiction of your teammate and best-friend Bucky Barnes as a past time. Having discovered your new hobby Bucky takes a keen interest and offers his services.

imagine: bonding with bucky over motorcycles by @invisibleanonymousmonsters​

other

*Pushing Buttons by @witchernonsense Geralt x reader

*Still by @witchernonsense Geralt x reader

*Imagine: Accidentally Calling Andy Barber Daddy by @sinner-as-saint​

Day 182 series by @winchester-fantasies​ Dean Winchester x reader: You and Dean are on a routine hunt when strange things begin to happen around you. When you start searching for answers, you soon find yourselves stuck, under quarantine, and no way to communicate with the outside world.

Plus One by @deansmyapplepie​ Part One | Part Two Dean Winchester x reader: The two of you had been dating for a long time now, but never before had you gone to a wedding together. Frankly, you never thought you’d ever get the chance. Your lifestyle didn’t leave you much time to stay in touch with old friends, which was why you had been so surprised to even receive an invitation in the first place. It was Dean who had convinced you to go, also something you hadn’t been expecting. Things in the monster world weren’t looking too great right now, and you were afraid of putting your friend in danger. After several days of Dean having to reassure you that it was fine, you had RSVP’d, loving the fact that for the first time in your life, you could say you had a plus one.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Enough - Leo x Isabella

There comes a time in your relationship when all you can say is you’ve had enough  

Warnings: cursing, it’s a little angsty

@lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @rainbowsinthestorm @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @liam-rhys​ @kimmiedoo5​ @speedyoperarascalparty​

Isabella was stressed. Rubbing her left temple to soothe her aching headache, she held Nico close to her propped up against her chest by her other arm as she tried to get some work done; but like everything recently, if one thing could go wrong, everything went wrong. “Hey...” Leo entered her office fresh from his return from Cordonia, “What was the missed call from the school about? I called back but they told me you sorted it... you could have let me know...” Without lifting her head, Isabella pointed across towards to the corner with her pen where Natalia and Alessandra sat without a word; both knowing that their mother’s temper and patience wasn’t to be tested any further today. “You two are home pretty early...” Leo began to fold his arms unimpressed as he checked the time on his Rolex “Is one of you going to tell me why?” Isabella knew Leo’s comment was a slight dig at her but kept quiet. The seven year old Princesses kept their heads down as Isabella looked across the room at them over her thick black framed glasses. “We... we were rude to our teacher...” Alessandra mumbled as she continued to colour in her picture. “We’re sorry...”

Natalia rubbed her eyes, pouting, both of them knowing they were in the wrong. Leo slowly ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair as he shook his head looking back at Isabella as she broke her silence, “They’re writing letters to apologise for deciding they didn’t want to be taught today and back talked constantly because they didn’t like what the teacher had planned for their lessons. Those letters are for their teacher on Monday morning and no carnival this weekend...” Leo nodded in agreement as she girls tried to protest, immediately huffing as Leo laid down the law, “You both know the rules. At school you are no different to your classmates and what your teacher says, you do. End of story.” Isabella began to wince as Nicolas decided to fuss against her chest, the high pitched scream echoed through the room, “Leo?” Isabella begged, “Can you take him?” Leo reluctantly walked over to Isabella, carefully taking the three month old from the cocoon he was wrapped in placing him against his chest. “Lia... Sasha... you can finish your letters in your room...” Isabella sighed heavily as she finally had some peace. It had been a long week in Leo’s absence.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Isabella slouched across the table, dragging her fingers through her hair. This was getting far too much to handle. Isabella noticed recently that the girls would play up when their father was out of town, they weren’t getting the same attention as they once did before her and Leo’s Coronation; It wasn’t fair but with a new baby and new responsibilities - the twins would have to come around eventually. Isabella couldn’t reward bad behaviour just because of their current circumstance and hoped that it was only a short phase. Leo’s back and forth to Cordonia wasn’t helping matters either. With Leo’s continuing absence, it was making it harder for the couple and the longer the trips became, the louder the arguing but Isabella was not going to argue with Leo in front of the children. She knew better not to. On the outside looking in, the Sánchez-Rys family were picturesque, they didn’t have a care in the world but when you scratched under the surface, there were many secrets that their hearts held onto.

Things hadn’t been going too well since Nico was born. With everything going on in Cordonia and a new baby Leo felt threatened and pushed away as Isabella spent most of her time with the new baby. Nicolas was the definition of a clingy baby and Leo couldn’t cope with the changes in his family structure as he lay by himself in their marital bed, only for Isabella to sleep beside her baby in the nursery. Between being a parent and a Queen of a country, there was little less time for anything else; she was completely exhausted and not willing to put up with Cordonian affairs - it was added stress she didn’t need. As space drifted between them and Leo spent more time back and forth in Cordonia, the cracks in their relationship seemed to widen even further. Leo’s jealousy and Isabella’s fears of not being able to be the mother she always wanted herself to be beleaguered the couple and more than once left Leo on the outside looking in. The more they had drifted apart; most nights Leo stared up at the ceiling wondering what if and Isabella cried into a muslin cloth that was draped over her shoulder.

After putting Nico to bed and sending the girls to their rooms, Leo glared sternly at Isabella, “So were you ever going to tell me they were sent home from school?” Isabella rolled her eyes sighing, “I didn’t even know they called you, it’s not a big deal Leo... they made a mistake, they’re grounded...” Isabella scrunched her nose up in disgust, “It’s not like they were hurt... plus it wouldn’t have happened...” Leo gritted his teeth as Isabella had great pleasure in pointing out it was his fault, “...If you actually were here every once in a while, they wouldn’t play up for attention...” Leo clicked his tongue not giving Isabella the satisfaction she wanted from the argument and instead agreed with her, “By all means... yes... this was my fault... next time, they can come to Cordonia... or better yet...” he had a deceitful glint in his eye, “We can send them to boarding school so that their mother doesn’t have to stop working for a day to look after her children... or would you rather I get Barthemely to come and put our girls into regent care? Huh?” Taking a deep breath the young Queen pushed out her chair; her heels clicking across the floor towards her husband angrily screaming at Leo, “Don’t you dare... I’ve two seven year olds, a three month old, still attending my own and your Royal engagements... Where the hell are you other than running off to be at your brother’s side every other week because he fucked up?”

Leo’s was furious, Isabella was pushing buttons that she knew not to push right now, “Well if your fucking Uncle hadn’t taken Camille into regent’s care, I wouldn’t have to... What the hell are you doing to try to help?!” Isabella’s stony expression said enough as she slowly folded her arms, her left arched brow raising, “Don’t you dare make this my problem... Liam went into bed with Auvernal - he was warned often enough to keep them as far from Cordonia after what happened in Rivia...” Leo’s eyes slowly narrowed, gritting his teeth, seething, “He didn’t have a choice! I would have done the same! You Beaumont’s are all the same... out for yourselves!” Biting down on her bottom lip, Isabella tried not to laugh, “You are a hypocrite... why are you only caring about Liam’s life now? In a heartbeat...” the petite brunette clicked her fingers, “...You were ready to walk away from everything! You’re no fucking better...” Isabella’s lips began to curl coyly upwards, “How nice is it on your little pedestal looking down at everyone because Leo Rys is so perfect... he can do no fucking wrong!” Leo’s face reddened with anger, he could feel his fists clenching; his nostrils flared as Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes looked through him. The Laurentian Queen clicked her tongue, “Maybe you should just run back to Cordonia like you always do when things get tough...”

Isabella sucked in her cheeks as Leo began to smirk cockily, “Fine by me...” as he pulled on the sleeves of his jacket, “At least that is something we can agree on...” The petite brunette’s almond shaped eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Leo turning and making his way towards the door, “You walk out that door...” Isabella screamed, “Don’t ever think of coming back!” Without looking back at her, Leo pulled on the handle, walking out without saying a word. Isabella took a deep breath through her nose as the room finally fell to a eerie silence. She didn’t know how to feel other than a weight had been lifted from her chest. Her eyes darted towards the door as she heard quiet knocking. “Bella...” Jimena stuck her head through the door, “You ok?” Jimena frowned watching as Isabella placed her head into her hands and began to cry. Closing the door behind her, Jimena ran across to take Isabella into her embrace, “I am so sorry...” Isabella sniffed, wiping her tears with her fingers to stop her mascara running as she stepped back. Jimena raised her brow in confusion as Isabella walked back towards her desk to pick up the phone, “Who are you...?”

Isabella held up her hand as the dial tone rang out, clearing her throat as the caller answered, “Good afternoon Señor Castellanos...” shaking her head, Isabella’s long waved curls shimmered in the evening sun that shone through the window hiding her mascara stained cheeks, “Freeze all assets and accounts except the workers expenditure accounts...” Jimena’s eyes widened in shock as Isabella argued with the Royal accountant, “Quite frankly Señor... I don’t give a fuck... No one is getting a cent from those accounts until I say so; move what you can now, we will deal with the rest later...” Isabella placed her hand over he receiver as she mouthed towards Jimena, “if Leo wants to walk out that door and go back to Cordonia, he can spend someone else’s money to get there... everything is grounded...” Jimena nodded, stepping back from Isabella not to interrupt as she continued to discuss the new terms with the accountant. Unknown to Leo, Isabella’s staff were briefed for years that if she and Leo ever separated, they had specific protocols and procedures in place in order to protect the Crown. Pressing onto her earpiece, Jimena spoke in hushed tones to Javier, the head of the Royal Guard “Lock everything down... we need to enforce the divide et impera protocol. It’s time to throw the Lion to the wolves...”

[thran-duils]

Devils Look Like Angels (Ch. 10)

Title: Devils Look Like Angels (Chapter 10) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Psychotic!Castiel. An unhinged, criminal, supernatural artifact collector extraordinaire… and the reader caught his eye. It will not take her long to realize that beneath the charm and mystique is a crazed killer who will go to great lengths to woo her. Words: 2,014 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Stalking, angst, death/murder, violence

Chap 9 || Chap 11 || Masterpost  || Fanfic masterpost

The next envelope that showed up contained an airline ticket to Hawaii.

I feel the need to make up to you. I sincerely apologize for my miscalculation. Please use this ticket to meet me and I can apologize in person. Inclusive stay and all. Yours truly, Castiel.

You tore the ticket and the note up and put the pieces as far down in the trash can as you could to avoid Sam and Dean spotting them. Slamming the lid closed, you stormed out of the kitchen.

Avoiding being vague on the details of your call with Castiel, you confided with them that you had snapped at him. Your calling him out outright only made this situation all the more unstable, and they needed to be in the loop. Rightfully so, Dean and Sam were not keen on you going out alone for walks anymore. Or out alone at all for that matter and for once during this whole debacle, you agreed. They did not leave you alone at the bunker either and you found yourself biting your nails whenever one of them would leave. Horrible things crossed your mind about what Castiel would do if he kidnapped one of them.

The days passed, your body refusing to fully relax. You were having trouble sleeping again and more than once you found one or both of the boys up and about at an ungodly hour, same as you. Netflix was sure getting its use.

One afternoon, Sam knocked on your door, peeking his head through the crack. You lowered your phone, pausing your dissection of the historical non-fiction you were reading.

“Jody called.”

You began to sit up, concerned, “Is she—”

Quickly, Sam added, “She’s fine. Don’t worry.” You relaxed back onto your elbow, waiting for him to continue. He stepped further into the room. “She’s got what sounds like a case. She doesn’t want to go it alone though. So…”

“So.”

“Are you comfortable going? It was a little awkward I had to tell her I needed to call back. Made up some excuse about your feeling unwell and I needed to check cause the vomiting I was hearing.” He sighed and came another step closer. “I don’t want to force you. But I don’t want to leave you here alone especially with this being states away. If you aren’t comfortable, I can reach out to some others in her area and have them help her out instead of us.”

Too quickly, you said, “That won’t’ be necessary. We can do it.” Sam said nothing, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. “Really. She’s our friend. The least we can do for all the help she’s given us is go for her. I’d feel pretty selfish if we didn’t.”

Sam took that in, nodding in understanding a few moments later. “I get that. Well, I’ll give her a call back. Tell her yeah we can do it and that you’re just hungover; no need to worry about the vomit.”

You chuckled, “Seems believable enough.”

<> <> <>

Falling back onto the couch, you sighed content. Jody was making dinner in the kitchen, a thank you for the assist on the hunt. You could hear Sam in there helping her out. Freshly showered and wrapping yourself up in a fuzzy blanket, you turned the TV on. Dean would come out shortly after he finished showering.

Coming to a stop on Walking Dead, you put the remote down on the coffee table. Zombies were one thing you never wanted to face down, but it was fun to watch.

Jody poked her head into the room, seeing the TV. “Rerun. I was about to tell you to not spoil it if you had Netflix on. I’m only on season six.”

“Super far behind.”

“What can I say? Not usually a lot of time for TV. You want a drink? I’ve got pretty much everything.”

You nodded, asking her for your go to, and thanked her.

As she turned to leave, your phone lit up.

Great.

Reluctantly, you picked it up, nervous about what you were going to find.

I hope you are not still irritated with me, kitten. Perhaps something lowkey to smooth things over? Dinner? We are overdue.

Snorting annoyed, you tossed your phone back down onto the table, refusing to respond.

<> <> <>

When you returned home a couple of days later, he tried again.

What must I do to get back into your good graces? I am at your mercy.

“You were never in my good graces,” you muttered out loud to no one.

<> <> <>

“Zeek invited us down for his birthday, We didn’t go last year.”

This invitation is how you found yourselves in Hot Springs, AR. Admittedly, you had been going stir crazy after coming home from the hunt with Jody and a bar sounded like a good escape. Especially one with friends and even more so, friends who were all hunters. Surrounded by them made you feel more relaxed. Or it was the alcohol. Or a combination of the two. Regardless, you were having fun.

Reaching across the table, you grasped Sam’s arm. “Alright, it’s been a half hour. Can we have another shot yet?”

“Uh, I said an hour. Not a half hour.”

“Man, fuck this. You aren’t our dad,” Dean declared, slamming his hands down on the table as he got up.

You snorted as Sam shook his head, “You’ll regret it in the morning, Dean.”

Defiantly, Dean pointed at Sam and said, “For that old joke, I’m gonna take two now!”

“You’ve already had four and two beers!”

Zeek came up from behind Sam, slurring his words, “Have as much as you want, Dean. It’s my birthday!”

“Hell yeah, it is! Happy birthday!” Dean returned loudly, causing a chorus around him to shout out happy birthday in agreement in Zeek’s direction.

Again, Sam shook his head, smirking a little. “Not the people you should be taking drinking advice from right now.”

“We’ll get you one too, Sammy. Loosen up that stick that’s in your ass,” Dean told him, clapping him on the shoulder as he went by.

“You’re supposed to help me, Y/N,” Sam jokingly scolded you. “Letting me down big time here.”

To appease him, you took a long drink of water. “Better?”

“The only way you won’t be hung over tomorrow is if you keep that up between shots.”

“Duly noted.” Looking around, you asked, “Wasn’t there supposed to be nachos coming?”

Suddenly remembering as well, Sam followed your gaze to the kitchen. “Yeah…”

“Who’s drunk now?”

“Better off than you,” Sam quipped. “I’ll go check on it. It has been awhile. Don’t take the shots without me.”

“Scouts honor. I might go to the bathroom though, so don’t take them without me!”

Sam promised and left the table. You sat for a few moments, tapping your fingers on the table. You really did have to go to the bathroom. Better do it before they got back. When you stood up, you stumbled a little, quickly correcting yourself.

“Whoops,” you giggled quietly to yourself. You took another long drink of water for good measure and then headed towards the bathroom.

You held back a groan seeing how long the line was. The men’s room was on the other side and you contemplated playing too drunk to notice if anyone said anything about you going in there. Solid enough plan. You backed away from the line and turned to go across to the other hall.

When you entered the hall, you frowned realizing the door said ‘exit’ not bathroom. There were woods outside… or maybe an outhouse.

It was a process to make sure you did not pee on yourself as you squatted in the woods right outside the bar. Proud of yourself, you stumbled back through the sticks and undergrowth to the door, barely avoiding tripping over a spare piece of wood that you hissed a curse at.

The door did not budge when you pulled.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you groaned. “It should say locks behind you!”

You gave the door a swift kick of annoyance before huffing and turning away from it. You pouted as you began to walk around the building towards the front to go back inside. You were sure Sam and Dean would tease you mercilessly so you thought you should keep it to yourself and say you had just gone outside for air.

Coming around the corner, you startled, letting out a small yelp as you came face to face with Castiel.

“I am beginning to have the suspicion you are actively avoiding me,” he informed you calmly. He was dressed in an all blue, crisp suit, black gloves adorning his hands, completely out of place for this backwoods bar.

Swallowing sharply, you felt the numbness of shock thrumming through you at the fact he was standing there in front of you. Your eyes flicked to the front deck, where no one was standing despite the warm air inside and all the smokers.

“Love, you know I took risk coming here to this hunter’s den all so I could speak with you,” Castiel remarked, moving his head to lock eyes with you to get your attention back. He rose his brows expectantly, “Can you please grant me a few moments considering that?”

Defeated at being cornered, you made to shrug but lost your balance, having to quickly catch yourself on the side of the bar.

Castiel reached out protectively to catch you, his hands holding you tight. “How much have you imbibed? Truly? You know that is terrible for your body.”

Snorting at generally everything he said, you told him, “Really? You’re going to chastise me about drinking?”

Steadying you, Castiel informed you tightly, “Quite so. Nobody else in your life appears to care about your health. I should order my men to teach those Winchesters a lesson, frankly, for allowing you to get so damn drunk. When I told them to watch out for you in my absence, I meant it.”

He had his cell out and you realized he really meant to text his men. This meant they were really inside and despite all the friends, they could seriously injure the guys before they got taken down most likely.

“Don’t!” you exclaimed, reaching for his phone.

He yanked it away from you quickly. “Kitten, it is rude to try to reach for other people’s things without permission.”

“Sorry,” you blurted, recoiling. “Don’t do that please. I’m listening. I swear.”

A fleeting smile, “That is all I wanted.” His cell was slipped neatly back into his jacket. He took a step closer to you, “I was beside myself with loneliness in Hawaii. The beaches lacked luster without you. Being stood up… have you ever been? No, I do not imagine you have. It is not a good feeling to say the least. Especially since it was you that did it. And then refusing to even politely decline dinner?”

Before you could say anything, he pressed on, “Come. Join me at my rental. It is on the lake and I am sure you will find it more than agreeable.”

You looked at him taken aback at this invitation to join him overnight. Castiel had a tough time holding back his frustration, “Y/N, please. Give me more credit than that. I do not think of you as some cheap trollop. On my word as a gentleman, I expect nothing more than your company.”

Mind racing, you weighed your options. If you refused him, his men might hurt Sam and Dean. If you went with… you were at his mercy. All alone.

“Come now,” Castiel held out his hand for you to take. “I am sure by now you are being sought out due to absence. Please do not make me spend the night alone in that big empty house.”

He was elated when you placed your hand in his and he helped you to his car.

Driving away, you remembered your phone was still at the table.

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #118

UPDATE 118: Doomsday Agent

Last time Francis had found a case full of vials from Cauldron. The poor sap who had acquired them is very deceased now, and now it’s all in Francis’ hands. Let’s continue!

The first person he meets on his way back is Cody, who doesn’t seem to be hurt.

“Yeah,” Krouse said.  “I made it.”

“You’re hurt.  Sorry if I don’t shed any tears.”

Oh, fuck you, Cody. No, really, Francis is pretty unpleasant and all, and he took active part in the murder attempt of Skitter, but for some reason I find myself finding Cody even less likable than him. That’s no mean feat, honestly. Well, it is a mean feat in a different manner. The more I read the less I think he may be Ballistic, too. I don’t know, I feel a disconnect, like...if Cody was Ballistic, maybe he’d have taken Skitter’s offers of him bailing from the Travelers much earlier than he did.

Mars is okay, thank goodness, but she was scared back then. Doesn’t sound like she’s injured or else Cody would have said it, no? So, right now, going back may be for the best.

Since Cody apparently hasn’t been enough of a pain in the neck, he grouches about how Francis didn’t ask about how Cody was, and Francis argues that since Cody isn’t bleeding around there’s no need to ask about his physical state. Honestly he has somewhat of a point there. There’s no really something urgent to deal with, and given Cody is picking up a fight pointlessly, I can also guess he’s not in mental shock or anything. Calm down, Cody.

“Sure, but who knows how I’m doing when you look past the surface?  I could be a mental and emotional wreck, putting on a brave face.”

“Cody,” Krouse had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t.  “I’m pretty badly hurt, here.  If we have to talk about this stuff, can we at least do it while walking back?”

“Because the Simurgh’s been replying old memories for me, and the irritating thing is they aren’t my most painful memories.”

Ah, so the memories really was because the Simurgh is messing with their heads. I can imagine Cody has been remembering the times Francis one-upped him, especially those related to Noelle. Frankly, I’m kind of waiting for the moment Cody will try to backstab him. It’s starting to seem like it’s going to happen at some point.

Since Cody apparently thinks this is a great time to vent and remember the pile of pranks pulled by Francis, he goes into detail about the kind of memories he’s been remembering. Hmm...seems to me like the Simurgh is trying to depress Francis, and stoking the hatred Cody has for Francis. Emotional manipulation, golly. Also, apparently things evolved rather quickly between Francis and Noelle because they arrived holding hands. How much time passed between when Francis met her and the day he joined the club?

The last thing they need right now is someone who is itching to punch somebody else out of grudge, so Francis tries to calm Cody down and tell him letting himself be carried away is what the Simurgh wants. The Simurgh is being less ‘I’m controlling you’ and more ‘remember this? What are you going to do about it?’. While it’s definitely emotional manipulation, it’s not like...the person has no will or anything. Seems to me like they’re still able to take decisions and act according to what they want. If Cody snaps and tries to strangle Francis, Iiiiii would blame Cody more than the Simurgh, at least from taking everything I’m reading in this interlude at face value.

“She’s making you think that way. That’s not you, Cody.”

“Maybe.  Doesn’t matter.  I’m still going to help out, I’m not going to get revenge or anything,” Cody said, offering Krouse a humorless smile, “Because even if I hate your guts, Krouse… Francis… I don’t hate theirs.”

You know, if it turns out Cody isn’t Ballistic and everyone else left him behind and powerless while they went to be the Travelers, he sure is going to hold a grudge.

“She makes Marissa freak out, she has Oliver crying when he thinks nobody’s looking, Jess has gone crazy paranoid, to the point that she’s barely talking, if it isn’t about looking after Noelle, and apparently Luke can’t take his mind off the pain.  But you’re doing fine, isn’t that funny?”

You know, when he puts it like that, it does make it sound like Francis is fine. We, as readers, know he’s not as fine as he may seem, but he’s not having panic attacks, he’s not getting so paranoid he shuts up, and he’s not focusing on the injury on his hand a lot. His problem seems to be more like recklessness.

Francis admits he’s not doing so hot, and Cody, being an ass, demands to know exactly what’s going on, which of course Francis doesn’t talk about. Jolly.

The situation is as bad as Cody said it was, everyone looks so tired and exhausted and repressing their tears it really, really feels Francis is the one doing the best out of everyone here. Times like these make more understandable why he was named the defacto leader while Noelle is locked in a vault: he does have the right level head for that. He just has nothing else.

Mars had managed to get first aid supplies, and Francis informs them what he heard from Myrddin – who, as I was informed, took a look at Francis and just turned him invisible while he talked to Armsmaster. Would they have been talking freely about how they’d annihilate everything in the quarantine, right in front of one of the people that’d die? I’m not sure they would. True, nothing they said indicated that was what they were planning to do, therefore Francis wouldn’t think that, but...I just keep thinking nobody in here will be left alive. What can I say, that hero’s death has stuck on my head even though it has been like one month since that particular update.

The Simurgh might try to pull something as a final measure, but the heroes were winning, and they were working out what to do after things were done.”

“Really?” Marissa asked.  She had put a folded towel on the coffee table, and was holding back on pouring the disinfectant on his hand.

Krouse nodded.  “Maybe fifteen minutes, maybe half an hour.  But it’s almost over.  We just need to hold out, stay calm.  Make sure Noelle doesn’t take a turn for the worse.”

I wonder if the reason why they decided to use the power vials on themselves was because they knew nobody would help them. Like, they noticed this whole place was going to explode with white phosphorus or something and decided to bail. With powers that sure would be easier.

They give the metal case to Jess so she can peruse the contents, being the only one here who knows better than the rest what’s the deal with powers and parahumans. She examines the papers, and gives her opinion.

“Put it somewhere nobody will find it, or destroy it.  Mix it with sand and pour it into a hole in the backyard or something.”

Oh boy. I wonder if later she took one of the vials because of peer pressure or something, but yeah, if it was any other situation, I’d agree with her. Having powers just hasn’t brought anything good to anybody’s life – and it’s not like having no powers gives you much of a nice life, either. Or maybe it is that living in Brockton Bay during the last few months just sucks. But right now, given the situation...it’s an option they’ll have to consider. We all know what the final decision will be, since it’s doubtful they all except one had trigger events later in their lives.

“Superpowers,” Krouse said.  “If I read it right, if I’m not losing it, then the contents of that suitcase tell you how to get superpowers.  I found it with the stuff that got dumped here with the monsters.”

Say, that makes me think, what if those people Francis fought are like Cauldron Case 53? Could be, no? They sure had the physical changes Case 53 often have. I don’t recall seeing tattoos, though, but I doubt Francis was paying attention to any marks on anyone’s skin, if they were visible.

The main reason Jess is very reluctant to accepting them is because they’re huge, permanent changes to your life. Or they also could be poison, she says, although later she also denies having said that, once Francis points out they can’t be poison. She is right in that there’s a lot that could go wrong, though. And also that returning to normal is what they should want, and that’d be real difficult if you have superpowers. Well, given you’re on a completely different world, that’s almost impossible, anyway...

The reluctance and all is raising suspicion on the rest, to the point where Francis has to ask them to trust him and Jess, that they do know something’s up but that it’s better not knowing. Then he keeps grilling Jess.

“Jess, you’re the one that’s always followed the superhero scene,” Krouse said.  “You follow the lame ass superheroes and villains we’ve got running around, and the three or four who’re maybe actually worth something. You’ve followed Earth Bet, all the stuff that goes on with the real heroes and villains. And you’re saying no?  Like I told Luke, that suitcase, it’s not my top priority, not even my second or third priority.  Cross my heart.  But this is a pretty big deal.”

...um, it’s starting to seem to me that Francis really, really wants the powers and showed them to Jess seeking validation and approval of the thought of drinking them, and didn’t expect her to say no. Geez, if you’re interested then say so already. Jess already said a couple times she doesn’t think this is a good idea, why do you want her to say otherwise?

“Jess.  Let’s read the papers in the case.  Figure out if it’s real, a hoax, if we can even use the stuff.  If we can’t, maybe we can still sell it.  We could use the money.”

Pffft, yeah, and then you’ll make yourselves a person of interest. They don’t know Cauldron, but I’m absolutely certain if they try selling them, Cauldron will know about them. Also, good luck escaping a military quarantine with a suitcase full of stolen powers to go search for a buyer. That’ll go well.

There we go! He said they should. Of course this makes Jess once again say they shouldn’t. Once they agree to all take a look at the papers and discuss this thoroughly – make that like ten minutes, given the fight with the Simurgh will be over soon and then who knows what will happen afterwards – they’ll decide if they should take powers or not.

The papers don’t mention what powers are there, and I doubt they’re labelled in any way either, so it’s not like they decided who takes what power. Hah! It was all up to luck. While Cody reads the papers, Francis checks on Noelle, who isn’t doing any better at all.

“Guys,” Cody said, excited.

Krouse could have hit Cody.  That attitude, that excitement, when Noelle could be dying?  Being so excited about fucking superpowers, when a friend was seriously hurt?

“Wait, look, give me that,” he took the paper from Jess, “Listen.  ‘Client three should be informed about the impact of the product on his cerebral palsy, blah blah, legal stuff about liability, no promises, blah, blah, where was it?  Right. Product potentially offers a mild to total recovery.”

Given the lack of medical help they can get for Noelle, I’m pretty sure this is what pushes Francis from ‘maybe we should take powers’ to ‘guys we are gonna take those powers, right now’. All for Noelle’s wellbeing.

Jess doesn’t want to try the formulas, not even with the potential for healing, and when pressed she shouts about what she knows about the Simurgh’s effects on people’s heads. She explains how those who listen to her song and survive her destruction do some terrible stuff in the future, stuff that brings suffering and horror. Ah. So she’s like...someone who sets off disasters far into the future, like dominoes.

...

Sure makes Noelle’s escape in the present seem much direr, as if her terrifying strength wasn’t enough to be worried about. Things are looking real bad for Brockton Bay. The city can’t catch a break.

Every time, people who’ve heard this song that’s in our head?  Things go wrong.  They snap, they break, their lives fall apart, or they do something, and it makes something else happen, and there’s a major disaster.  That guy who was supposedly making a clean energy source that could power whole cities?  His wife and kids got killed and he became a supervillain who made it a life goal to murder anyone who tries to better society with their powers.

Oh heeeey, that’s Mannequin, right? Golly! The Simurgh doesn’t do things half-assed at all, hah! I wonder if anyone else who has appeared in the story has been subjected to the Simurgh’s song.

Jess offered a short, high laugh, humorless, “Isn’t it?  Isn’t it awfully coincidental that we got in this situation, here, trapped within her range, with Krouse going out to find a doctor for Noelle and finding this instead? I know what you guys are thinking. This stuff, maybe it can let me walk again.  If it works. Maybe we all get superpowers.  But the Simurgh sees what’s going to happen. Probably.  And she’s not on our side.  However she does it, she’s already rigged it all like some Rube Goldberg machine that starts and ends with a mindfuck.”

She’s right. This really seems to be the Simurgh’s machinations. I said it last update, there have been so many coincidences that just fell in place and led to the Travelers. Pretty impressive of the Simurgh to have selected people who are in a whole other world to bring here and turn into her unwitting agents. And it’s not like they can just throw the case away and pretend they never saw it. That’s going to create some discord between them, anyway, and who knows where that’ll lead.

Still, with all this, how and why did Jess end taking one of the powers? She knew very well how badly things could go. Was she forced to, perhaps?

Jess shook her head and said. “There’s no way this works out for us, because she’s already seen what’s going to happen.  That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Geez, that’s tough.

You know, I’m not sure if the following is a fatalistic train of thought or not, but if someone came to me and proved they knew everything in my future, what I’d do, what I wouldn’t do, and what the consequences of my existence would be...I don’t think there’s anything to do but embrace that foretold destiny wholeheartedly. Even if it’s bad for everyone. Nothing I can do, nothing I can fight it with, and any obstacles I can make are part of the plan? Then...may as well accept what’s going to happen and try to keep my sanity no matter what happens. What else can you do? I guess this means I’d be really, really susceptible to the Simurgh’s machinations. Thank goodness nothing like this can exist out there, the Simurgh is terrifying.

Despite everything Jess says about how the Simurgh works and why there’s a quarantine in the first place, nobody seems to be convinced about the direness of the situation. And finally, the Simurgh’s song is gone. This is it. The fight is over. What will happen to them now?

Doesn’t take long for Francis to say this:

Krouse blinked the tears out of his eyes, cleared his throat, forced a shit-eating grin onto his face.  “I don’t see why everyone’s getting so worked up. How bad could it be?”

Golly, what a thing to be saying. Hey, what was it Tattletale said before this interlude arc started?

“You think we could convince the PRT to turn on the air raid sirens?”

That’s plenty bad. I’m almost hoping that, if Noelle goes around destroying Brockton Bay, Jess will be all ‘oh, let’s take powers, he said, how bad could it be, he said. Well look at that and tell me how bad it ended being, Trickster’. Oh how things sound so different for a reader when you know it won’t all be fine.

Francis’ daredevil reply bring some levity, and Cody didn’t like that so he stomped away. Guess that settles it: they’re taking the powers. Francis is just hoping they’re not some of the Simurgh’s chosen ones. I meeeeean...everything sure points that they are. The Simurgh really knew what she was doing.

This is the end of the chapter. Goodness gracious, I finished writing a Worm chapter liveblog one day after posting an update on the website! Now that’s unusual nowadays. I think I’ll tackle another chapter, why not?

“We have to tell them,” Krouse murmured.

Murmured to Jess. Talking about being in a whole other world, I suppose. Well seeing how everyone in the Travelers are aware of that...yeah, they’ll know. The mystery right now is if they’ll tell them now or later.

They’re concerned about how they others will take it, seeing no result other than ‘badly’. Naturally! There’s also the matter of accidentally revealing themselves as coming from another world. Thaaat I wouldn’t worry too much as long as they’re far away enough from wherever they are at right now. For example, if I was talking with someone, and I found out they remember an entirely different person is the president of the country, I sure wouldn’t immediately think ‘oh they’re from another world’. Instead I’d think they don’t have much interest in politics. As long as they don’t make too many screw-ups with the same person, they’ll be fine.

It’s kind of tragic how Francis is talking about maybe keeping the damage the Simurgh tries to make them do be as minimized as possible. As if! Like she’d let that happen, hah! Golly, Francis is not an optimistic person, so I’m taking this more like hubris.

Looks like they have decided to tell them now, from what I see here. Go-llee, this is going to be such a mess. They seem to get prepared, but the attempt is broken when they realize they have cable TV now. The Simurgh must be gone, the fight is over. Luke’s first thought is that now that there’ll be phone services, they can call their parents! Oh boy.

You know, I’m curious: each iteration of Earth has completely different people, right? Like, there are no other versions of anyone in the other Earth. That’s such a strange though in some ways. Like, how exactly does that happen.

Francis stops them from watching TV, and decides to speak right away because otherwise they’d find out through the news and it’s better to hear from him and Jess. He doesn’t take many words to say it, and thankfully, everyone understands what he means, right away, especially when he has to explain to Oliver what exactly he means.

Cody is the one who takes it badly, and honestly I’m not surprised about it. It may be unkind of me to think so, but Iiii’m kind of thinking he was itching for a reason to go and punch Francis, and now that there was a reason, he eagerly took it. The rest are more like horrified and also upset with Francis for hiding it, but they’re not as desperate as they could have been. More like resigned.

“What are we supposed to do?” Oliver asked.  “If we go to the police-”

He sure has faith on the police. Leaving aside that they’re prime targets given they’re from another world and all, what could the police do? It’s not like they’ll give them the kind of help they want, it’s not like the police will throw them back to the other world. I think. In fact, it’s more likely they’ll be locked away, since Jess said there’s all sorts of suspicions and protocols regarding the other Earths. Sure would suck to have more problems on top of what they already have.

Let’s listen to what the TV says!

A quarantine processing center is already established at St. Mary’s Hospital, servicing city residents who were not evacuated before temporary blockades were set up.

Huh! Servicing residents, I see. Doesn’t sound too bad...doesn’t sound like a euphemism for death. While I doubt they’d outright tell the public if they have to kill anyone who didn’t escape, I do think there’d be some...indication their lives were forfeit. Maybe going to that hospital would have been the best thing to do if they didn’t have a case of powers right there. Hell, they could even tell them about coming from the other Earth. What are they going to do about it? They’d already be locked in an entire city! Locking them into an even smaller place would be futile, given everyone would be in the same situation and nobody would dare to take them out of the quarantine to take them to a police station out there. This city is like a huge jail cell by now.

The name ‘Professor Haywire’ sounds almost cartoonish, haha. I’m sure everything that villain did was no laughing matter, though. Especially if the Simurgh was using replicas of his devices.

And so, they take the decision to go to St. Mary’s. Ah, great! A sensible move! Especially because they need to get Noelle some medical attention, and since the Simurgh is not some sort of contagious virus or anything like that, competent personnel can enter the quarantine and leave later. It’s rather possible for medical professionals to be in there. She’ll be fine! ...as fine as someone in her state can be, that is. I fear she has been too long without the right attention.

To get to the hospital, they’ll have to steal a car. The problem they have, though, is that they aren’t finding the keys, and nobody knows how to hotwire a car. They have to go around and try to find a car with the keys in the ignition, and that’s gooooing to be a needle in a haystack. I really don’t think they’ll be lucky enough for that. Also, they’re...six or seven people, no? They’ll need two cars.

During the search, Francis decides to ask Mars about what the Simurgh showed her. What was making her freak out? Obviously Mars is very reluctant about talking about it, and demands to know why Francis would like to know.

“Because I’m trying to get a sense of what her game plan was.  Cody told me that she reminded him of me.  Brought up all the bad memories of times I gave Cody a hard time, times he thought I slighted him or whatever.  I’m wondering if it was the same for you.”

Unless the Simurgh’s plan is to make everyone turn against Francis, I doubt it. No, if that had been part of her plan then he wouldn’t be the leader of the Travelers, that I’m sure.

Yup, Mars’ memories were nothing about Francis. Looks like the Simurgh was trying to break her will and bring back old traumas involving Mars’ mother. Pretty rough stuff! But nothing about Francis. Seems to me like the Simurgh is aiming at everyone’s weak points instead of using specific memories for some kind of goal. Cody had his grudges, Francis had Noelle, and Mars had nasty experiences involving the times she was in dance and music.

He could see her face fall, understood why.  “I’m sorry about Chris, by the way.”

“He was a genuinely good guy.”

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t get to know him more. He was always more your friend than our collective friend.  But he was nice enough.”

Frankly, the way things are going right now in the flashback and in the present, Chris got pretty damn lucky. I just hope his death was immediate and he didn’t even notice what was happening. I wonder why the Simurgh didn’t need him. I mean, pretty sure everyone else survived not because they were lucky or in the right places, but because the Simurgh wanted them alive.

Oliver had been saturated with self-doubt, loathing, all the things that made him introverted, passive, even whiny.  He’d been brought to tears at one point, even.  Marissa had been brought back to the stage, her focus turned to her relationship with her mom.

What purpose does that serve?

The only thing that Krouse could think of, and he had to ask Luke to get a third data point, was that the Simurgh had wanted to distract them.  Cody, meanwhile, had been set against Krouse, and Krouse’s attention had been turned to Noelle.

This doesn’t strike me as the kind of maneuvers she’d be making if she was planning something for years from now.  This is more imminent.

So she may be wanting something to happen in the near future, instead of in the present? Hm...honestly it brings to mind how there’s one person missing among the Travelers, whether it’s Luke or Cody. Leaning towards Cody. Maybe they’ll leave him behind while they escape from the quarantine. You don’t want someone who wants to break somebody else’s nose at the first chance. The discord is the last thing they need.

Francis decides he’ll need to ask Luke about his memories later. Hm, I don’t know...Cody said all Luke could focus on was the pain from his injury. Who knows, maybe the Simurgh gave him a matinee of all his childhood knee scrapes and broken bones if any. Personally I don’t expect much use from what he remembered.

Mars had wanted for so long to get out of home, be independent, and now that the circumstances have pushed her to do that given, well, she’s in an entirely different world, she misses her mom. It’s not strange. May sound illogical given how much she suffers under her mom’s thumb, but it’s not strange. Leaving aside any feelings she may have, familiarity is better than leaping into the unknown with no way back. Anyone would long for what they already know and experience, even if...if it was less than nice.

There we go! They managed to find keys for cars by looking in a hotel. Great! They do get two cars, seems like, so now the issue is finding the rest of the group without getting the attention of anyone or anything hostile out there.

No sign of Cody or Oliver. Gripped by a sudden bad feeling, Francis drives and hurries back to the house they were hiding in, and rushes inside to find Cody looking for the power canisters like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“Fuck you. You hid them.”

“Close, but no cigar.  We did leave the suitcase in plain sight, took the canisters out.”

“Where!?”

“But we didn’t hide them.  Jess and I destroyed ’em, before we started cooking dinner.”

“Bullshit.”

Bullshit indeed. My theory about them leaving Cody behind while they leave the quarantine is kind of getting stronger. Cody doesn’t make himself look well at all when he again brings his rivalry with Francis to the forefront, accusing everyone of tolerating Francis’ actions. Wow.

“I’m willing to bite the bullet,” Cody said.  “I’ll take the hit.  I’ll drink the stuff, or inject it, whatever.  And if the Simurgh has things set up so I get fucked over down the road, I’m okay with that.  I can still use whatever powers I get to get us out of here.  Maybe get us home.”

Leaving aside what I know of Cody’s demeanor, I wouldn’t believe him at all. His seemingly well-intentioned actions fall in the face of his surreptitious ways, what with lying to Luke’s face and all. I just can’t avoid thinking his intentions were shadier than this.

Not the time for ranting about Francis, Cody.

Francis is a crummy person, but he realized what the Simurgh is trying to do with their heads, and he tries to tell Cody that, but I doubt Cody is listening at all. Besides, there are other priorities – priorities that are very well justified, for obvious reasons, but I’m sure are reinforced by the Simurgh’s manipulations.

Our situation right now?  We’ve got priorities.  Noelle is number one, but the rest of these guys come in a close second.

Not sure I like how ‘the rest’ are a close second. Heck, naming Noelle and Luke as the first priority given their need for medical attention would have been fine, but nope! When said this way, it really seems to me like it’s the Simurgh making him place Noelle above the rest.

Mr. Wildbow has been doing a great job making Cody seem like an outsider in this group during this entire interlude. Not only he wasn’t even give a chance to make an argument for himself, there are times such as now that Cody just stands around glaring at people instead of being useful. Nobody even got into the car he brought. Not that I could blame them for that, he’s a real pain in the neck.

As soon as they arrive into the hospital, Francis kicks the doors open, with Noelle in his arms, and shouts they need help. Rather dramatic entrance! Nobody comes to help, though. Nobody can help. The hospital is understaffed. Naturally, given the situation, but that definitely wasn’t what they wanted to hear. Are thou to blame for thus, Simurgh?

“Stay calm and be patient.  The staff at this facility are strictly limited to the volunteers who were willing to undergo the quarantine procedure themselves. As such, this facility is currently understaffed.“

Was it an automated message? No.  He didn’t get that vibe.

“Sit, Krouse,” Marissa said.

Krouse settled Noelle into a chair, then sat beside her.  “Fucking creepy.  I think that thing in the booth is an artificial intelligence.”

Frankly, even though I know this story has tinkers and the capacity to have some damn good AIs, I admit my first thought was that Dragon is talking to them. Pretty unlikely, though...I think if it was Dragon, then the Protectorate would be aware the Travelers once were in an area the Simurgh attacked. Or maybe this is Dragon and they do know. That sure wouldn’t come up at all for Skitter to hear about it, really. The joys of having a first-person view!

While they wait for someone to come and help Noelle, they try to get their facts straight, asking Jess for info about any big differences. Iiii doubt you’ll be asked questions about general world history anytime soon, guys. Heck, being wrong about any of the tidbits Jess said could be easily disguised if you pretend you’re a nutcase conspiracy fan – but then again, who’d want to do such a thing, hah.

Nurses come and take Noelle away, ready to give her the help she needs so bad. Luke and Francis will get their turn later, as their wounds are much less severe. While they wait, the maybe-AI observing them tells them to take a stack of paper and read it.

Be informed, individuals within the quarantine area must meet the prerequisites noted on those sheets before they can be permitted to process out and re-enter society.

Oh! Okay! Honestly I thought anyone in this city would stay locked into the city forever and ever. I mean, that hero guy literally had to be exploded because he had been exposed for too long! I think it can be forgiven if I thought they were doomed to stay in this city forever, no? Maybe the hero had to die because he was a parahuman. Parahumans under the Simurgh’s future doom thrall can be so dangerous – i.e. Mannequin.

...if anyone found out the Travelers are Simurgh doom thralls they’d be targeted by the heroes as the utmost priority, I bet.

The Travelers will have to stay in this city at least ten months to give them checkups and other similar procedures, eight of those also having counseling and psychiatric evaluation. Oh, good, that’ll do a select few here some good. But still, ten months is quite some time.

Further, anyone processing out of quarantine is required to accept a tattoo marking their D.D.I.D. status.

Oooh, a tattoo! I wonder what shape the tattoo has. The only noteworthy tattoos I remember are the one Manton has on his hand, and the Case 53 tattoos. It can’t be Manton’s tattoo, right? Cauldron wouldn’t take the risk of letting a Simurgh thrall stick with them, right?

Apparently for the rest of their lives everyone in this city will be treated like they have a really nasty disease or if they’re registered offenders of some sort – both being apt comparisons given the danger they represent to society, really. Thanks, Simurgh, lives were ruined today. Pretty much everyone they make contact with in some significant manner will be notified about their exposure to the Simurgh.

“Sir?  There is one other matter to discuss.”

Krouse turned back.  “What?”

“Regarding the care of the young woman, will you be paying the balance?“

“I don’t have any money.”

“Understood.  If you will provide the name of your financial institution-“

My financial institution… a world away.

Oh. Whooops. Guess even inside the quarantine there’s a need for money. Honestly I thought that was one of those things that wouldn’t be necessary anymore, and that they’d be provided with everything they needed. It’d be a terribly boring existence – or...ten months, I guess – but they’d survive. But nope! They still need money. That’s too bad.

This is a worse obstacle than expected.

“These measures were put in place to ensure that we are able to track anyone undergoing quarantine processing, as well as those who may be attempting to circumvent processing.  We will require a credit card or a bank account number.“

“If I don’t?” he asked.  “My stuff got destroyed in the attack.”

“Again, we can contact your financial institution on your behalf and start the process of restoring your accounts to your control.  If you do not pay, you will not be processed.”

They’re in trooooouble! See? This is how I kind of expected someone to get an inkling something’s up with these people, not the lack of general knowledge like being unaware of installations on the moon. I think I see where this is going. Cornered by the horrors of bureaucracy and being threatened with Noelle not being treated, the Travelers are forced to take the powers and use them to get away from the quarantine. Did the Simurgh foresee that? The quarantine being so much of a problem for the Travelers they have no more option but to use those vials? I hope so! It’d be quite the foresight.

Soon it’s pretty clear there are so many measures and obligations in place it’s unlikely they’ll be able to complete them without slipping or being found out. Francis also isn’t looking forward to being treated like criminals for the rest of their lives. Yeah, nobody would be happy with that. So, what to do?

Krouse nodded.  “-and we’d get treated like criminals for the rest of our lives, or we take option two, we try to escape, and again, we get treated like criminals for the rest of our lives, only we deserve it.”

Hah! You know, it’s already known they’ll take the powers, but given that they come from another world and they’re on the run because they were exposed to the Simurgh, it was impossible for them to be heroes, anyway. That’d require credentials with the government and all that. Being villains really was the only way they had to survive. The circumstances simply got rid of any other option. Time to be criminals for the rest of their lives?

Not long afterwards, there comes news about Noelle. They’re awful. Not the thing the guy with Noelle as the utmost priority wanted to hear.

“Well played,” Krouse said, as the car skidded to a stop outside the house they’d borrowed.  “Well fucking played, Simurgh.”

He stepped out of the car.

Permanent damage.  Removing the majority of her lower intestine.

He didn’t step into the house they’d borrowed.  He headed straight for the house next door, the one they’d broken into when they were looking for house keys.

Interrupted blood flow, infection, possible signs of necrosis.  She’l require a colostomy bag even in the best case scenario.  In the worst case scenario, well, there’s any number of ways this could end badly for the patient.

End badly, Krouse thought.  She’ll die.

Aha. I think I see the pieces falling into place. I bet Chris died so Marissa wouldn’t have someone to rely on, and be more likely to accept the powers. I bet the Simurgh made it so Noelle would be injured critically, and Francis, knowing there was a good chance the powers in the vials would heal even grave wounds, would want to use those powers. That’s why the Simurgh kept reminding him of his relationship with Noelle. And Noelle gaining powers is leading to the problems in the present.

The Simurgh is so cool. Well played.

Cody must have done a lousy job looking for the power vials, because it all was hidden under the couch. Wow. Francis takes it out and reads the papers, finding that there is some information about what’s in each one. It’s gibberish for the uninformed, though. Give me a sec, I want to go back to the Battery interlude to check something...I remember in there they explained the values I’m seeing here. Hmmmm...

Canister A:  F-1-6-1-1, ‘Deus’, 85% mixture.

Added: C-0-0-7-2, ‘Balance’, 15% mixture.

          To be consumed by Client 1

Alright, this is one of the vials. Let’s see...when I read the information on the Battery interlude, I find out...I don’t understand a thing. Those letters and numbers are a mystery to me. Well this was a waste of five minutes of my time, I better continue reading now.

I note one of the samples is called ‘Aegis’. Any relation to the hero with that same name? Hmmm...either way, just from reading the names of the samples, nothing indicates to me what power is in which vial. This all truly is stuff only Cauldron people would understand.

And so, Francis has embraced what the Simurgh wanted them to do. He drinks one of the vials right when the others enter the house. Francis has the vision that comes with the trigger event, and falls to the floor while the others help him stand up. Did he tell them what he intended to do? Apparently not.

There’s some practice right away, where Francis starts getting the gist of what his new powers entail. The way things are described is interesting! He doesn’t delve into it for long because Mars begs him to stop, so he does. Also Cody is watching, and as usual, has to bring up how Francis is one-upping him and everyone just accepts his actions. Yeah, pretty much.

Francis manages to leave the house with one of the vials, even getting around Cody and anyone else in his way by using his power, and decides to go to the hospital to give Noelle superpowers. If it helps her heal, then he has to do it, he thinks!

“I know this is shitty,” Krouse admitted.  “And my excuses, my reasons for doing it, maybe they don’t make up for what I’m doing. But I’m okay with you guys hating me if it means helping Noelle.”

I kind of have a feeling everyone else isn’t on close second place in Francis’ list of priorities anymore.

Change of scene! Francis as with Noelle, who is now able to talk and be awake. Before she was in too much pain – naturally, what with the extent of her injury, god. Thank goodness it seems she didn’t suffer damage to her head, I was afraid she had.

Noelle isn’t looking forward to having a colostomy bag attached to her, given everything that’s being removed from her. She wishes she had more time with Francis before. Francis says she’ll be okay, and brings up the powers vials. Her reaction is of immediate rejection, what with everything Jess was saying about poison.

“There were only six,” she said. “And there’s seven of us.”

“You deserve special treatment, after what you’ve been through.  And I want to make sure you get better.”

“No.  It’s… it wouldn’t be fair to the others.”

“Screw the others.  Cody, at least, can go fuck himself,” Krouse said.

Ooookay, they’re not even second place anymore, seems to me.

“What if you take half, then?” he asked. “Only half.  It’ll be fair to the others.”

He drew the vial, then found a paper cup by the sink.  He poured half into the cup.

Thaaaat doesn’t sound like the best idea to me? I don’t know how the serums are supposed to work, but given Battery was advised to drink it all at once for best results, not drinking the entire vial seems unadvisable. She better drink the other half right away because she changed her mind or something. Screw Cody, he can stay with no powers, that’ll give one vial for everyone else.

“It’ll work,” he said.

“And if it doesn’t?  Or if that horrible stuff you guys were talking about comes true?  The… what did you call it?  The cause and effect?”

“If it happens,” Krouse said, “Blame me.”

Well she’s going to have plenty of time to blame him while she’s locked in a vault. Love or not, that’s not the kind of thing you accept without having some sort of hard feeling towards the person responsible for it. Besides, before that in the time they were walking around aimlessly, I have to wonder if she ever told Francis whatever happened to her with her powers is his fault. I can only imagine their relationship was never the same from this point on.

And so Noelle takes half of the vial. The chapter ends without saying if she takes the other half. And so here I end the update too! Because golly this is an update longer than others. I hope the wait was worth it!

Next time: next update

[varietydisco]

Bunny in a Bunny Suit

Characters: Arthur Morgan & John Marston, Hosea Matthews, Dutch van der Linde, Susan Grimshaw, Mac & Davey Callander Rating: Teen and Up Tags: Pre-Canon, Family dynamics, Trans Male Characters, Vague descriptions of non-sexual nudity, Silly but not technically crack Word Count: 3k

Description: Arthur tells young John an unfortunate lie. (Namesake: Bunny in a Bunny Suit by Simone Whittaker)

Part 3 of the Coming of Age series

1885

The first thing Arthur was greeted with upon riding into their temporary home— an abandoned, but well-off ranch on the plains— was Susan trudging over. She wore a lemon-soured expression that made Arthur briefly consider turning around and heading back for the mountains.

John leaned to one side and looked around Arthur’s shoulder to see what was happening.

“Afternoon, miss Grimshaw,” Arthur greeted. He touched the brim of his hat as he brought his horse to a slow stop beside the pasture fence.

As he lifted his leg, about to swing himself off the horse, Susan hurried her pace and waved her arms.

“Oh, no you don’t!” She exclaimed. “Don’t you boys even think of coming in here.”

“What? How come?” Arthur asked. “Did we get evicted while we was gone?”

Susan’s war-path came to a sudden stop and she huffed. With one finger held up at the boys, she turned back on her trail and went for a bucket of supplies hanging on a fence post a few feet away.

“…What’s she got?” John whispered.

“Somethin’ to beat us with, probably.” Arthur replied.

Bucket in hand, Susan stormed her way back over to the boys. Her expression never shifted once.

“I could smell you both comin’ a mile off,” She spat. “Just take one look at yourselves— you’re both disgusting.”

“I missed you, too.” Arthur said. “And why yes, we are safe and sound. Thanks for askin’.”

Susan huffed. “Take this down to the pond and go wash yourselves, before you even think of comin’ into the house.” She shoved the bucket up towards John, who awkwardly took it. The boy shot Arthur a quizzical look, his brows furrowed, then set it in his lap.

“You can’t be serious.”

Susan crossed her arms firmly. “Don’t test me, Morgan.”

Arthur groaned. He took his hat off and hooked it onto the horn of his saddle. His face was caked with dirt and sweat, and so were his clothes.

“We just finished a three-day huntin’ trip gatherin’ food for you lot, and we don’t even get a thank you.” He waved his hand back at John. “Marston here even caught his first rabbit. Not that you cared to ask any.”

“Good for him, doesn’t change that stench that followed you both home,” Susan made a shooing motion with her hand. “Leave what you caught here and get your asses down to the pond to wash. Don’t bother coming back until you’ve scrubbed every inch.”

“Lord Almighty,” Arthur mumbled. He reached back and elbowed John. “Hand that bucket over and unload the horse.”

John furrowed his brows.

“Why me?”

“‘Cause you smell the worse, and I want Grimshaw to get a good whiff.”

Susan scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, grow up, Arthur.”

Arthur chuckled at that, while John eventually forked over the bucket and slid off the back of Boadicea. Silently, Arthur got a kick out of watching John fumble to untie their kill from the wagon and less silently did he enjoy watching Susan pluck at strands of John’s greasy hair while shaking her head in disgust.

Once the whole ordeal was done, John climbed back up, and the boys hit the trail again. As they approached the pond a few minutes later, John spoke up and said, bitterly, “That Grimshaw sure is a spitfire, isn’t she?”

“Not exactly the word I’d use to describe her most days, but that’ll work alright,” Arthur replied.

He rode Boadicea down a small, grassy slope which lead them to the pond’s bank. Mosquitoes and other bugs danced over the water’s silky-smooth surface. A frog leapt over a lily pad, and some birds chirped from the surrounding trees. The scene was pretty enough to have been a painting; Arthur only felt a little bad that they were about to use this pond to wash their asses.

Arthur pulled the horse to a stop and motioned his hand to John.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. Jump in.”

John faltered a second. “You ain’t serious. Clothes an’ all?”

“Naw, you’re right.” Arthur swung his leg and slid off the horse’s back. “Take your clothes off. We’ll have to burn ‘em at this point anyway, no sense in gettin’ them damp.”

John’s cheeks reddened. “Not you, too.”

“Yeah, me too. Now that Grimshaw’s mentioned it, and I’m standing down-wind of you, I can’t help noticin’ how ripe you are.”

Arthur swaggered towards the water. He made swift work of his coat and his shirt, both of which were promptly tossed aside onto some rocks. He scanned the water all the while and savoured the feeling of the early summer sun on his body.

He figured this place wouldn’t be too bad of a spot to stay for a while, assuming they didn’t plan any big commotions yet. The law was getting stricter about things like that and people like them, and frankly Arthur could have used a little peace and quiet for a while.

And there was that sweet girl he met in town— Mary Gillis. If nothing else, Arthur wouldn’t mind sticking around just to see her again. If he kept a low enough profile for a while, he might even have the chance to ask her out for a dinner, or something to that extent.

Caught in his own thoughts, Arthur stopped paying any attention to John, who was slowly taking care of his own clothes. Arthur only came back to reality when John announced, “Don’t look, okay?”

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t even wanna look at you dressed. I promise you, I ain’t lookin’ now.”

Keeping good to his word regardless, Arthur turned halfway to the side, putting his back fully to John. He kicked his boots off, then draped his pants over the rock with his shirt. Eager to get washed and return to camp, Arthur took off for the water.

It was warm at first against his feet as he waded in, though the farther in he went, the cold seemed to creep up his hairy thighs and straight through his bones. Instead of lingering on it, Arthur took a dive into the shallow water. He swam for a bit, letting the water rush over him and clear his senses; when he needed to breathe again, his toes found the soft, muddy bottom of the pond and he stood upright. Arthur burst to the surface, water cascading down his heavy-set body. He glanced around, wiping the water out of his eyes, and then fully turned to the shore.

“Hurry up and get in, Marston.” He called out.

John clutched the bucket to his chest unsurely. He still had his underwear on, but if he wanted to ride back to camp with a chapped ass, that was going to be his own issue. After a few long beats, John started wading out into the water.

He got to about his knees before stopping.

“It’s too cold,” he complained.

“S’ not so bad once you get in further. Also, shut up and throw me some soap.”

John rooted through the bucket with a grumble. He then tossed a bar to Arthur underhanded; Arthur lurched forward to catch it, but just barely.

“Christ!” Arthur scoffed. “What a shitty hand you’ve got.”

John frowned hard. His cheeks went red again as he dumped the bucket of its contents— another bar of soap and a wash brush— then filled it instead with water. He poured it over his head while Arthur started soaping himself up.

“Can’t throw, can barely shoot… It’s a wonder what Dutch sees in you at all.” Arthur called out. “Guess he likes projects.”

John’s cheeks flared hotter as annoyance built inside of him. Soaking wet, he threw the bucket aside and snatched up the soap instead.

“At least I’m not a butterball,” John snapped.

Arthur snorted a laugh. Quickly, he dunked his head underwater, then worked the soap into his hair.

“Butterball, huh? That’s a big word for you.”

“Would you just fuck off already?”

Arthur laughed again. It was so easy to get on John’s nerves, it almost made him understand all the grief Hosea and Dutch used to give him.

“I oughta wash your mouth out with soap. Save Grimshaw doin’ it herself.”

“I’d like to see you try, fatty.”

Arthur cocked his brow. For a long moment he stared at John, quietly sizing him up, before a smirk took his lips. John busied himself with scrubbing and soaping, so he didn’t notice Arthur approaching at first.

“I reckon you should come take a dip with me, Marston.”

John’s eyes widened with fear. He took half a step back, his hands going up.

“Don’t you dare. I can’t swim, you know that.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Arthur grinned. “Promise I won’t throw you out far… Just enough to let the eels get a bite in of your toes.”

“That ain’t funny.” John warned. He took another step back.

“Sure it is. At least to me.”

John stared at Arthur for half a moment, then turned and bolted for the shore.

Arthur gave immediate chase, laughing.

“Come on, not afraid of a little water, are ya?”

John was quick to scramble ashore, crying out, “Don’t you dare!” all the while. Arthur could have easily chased him the whole way, and maybe even caught the little bastard, but he started laughing too hard to make it far.

Arthur stopped a few feet from the shore, hands on his knees, while John scampered away to go hide behind an indifferent Boadicea. Arthur took a long moment to catch his breath, before he stood back up straight. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, then cleared his throat.

“Goddamn, you’re somethin’ else, boy.” Arthur laughed. He paused, smiling, before noting the weird expression on John’s face.

John’s head poked out barely over the top of Boadicea’s saddle. His brows were knitted tight together and his mouth was slightly open with disbelief.

Arthur’s smile slipped off. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure something wasn’t coming up behind him; sure enough, all he saw was an expanse of water and the swaying, shady trees around its edge. He looked back at John, lips pursed.

“What? You got a problem?”

“Where’s…” John started, his voice slow and confused. Maybe a little scared. “Where’s your dick at?”

Arthur glanced down, mostly confused himself. The water came up to the middle of his thighs, gently lapping at the back of his legs. He took half a second to process everything, before he realized. John was so fresh in the gang, he didn’t know a damn thing.

Immediately, Arthur knew the right thing to do. He should sit down, give John the whole spiel Hosea had given him years ago, about people and norms and bodies…

But he wasn’t going to do that. Instead, Arthur gasped in fake terror.

“Oh my god. It must’ve fallen off.”

John’s voice cracked as he exclaimed, “What?!”

“I can’t believe this,” Arthur continued, voice taut with faux panic. “I had it just a second ago— oh my god. One of the eels must’ve taken it.”

John’s face went white as a sheet. His body was stiff.

“All these years, I thought Hosea was pullin’ my leg when he said your dick would fall off if you played with it too much, but he was tellin’ me the truth this whole time!”

“You ain’t for real,” John managed, weakly. His own voice was high-strung with panic he tried to keep control of.

“Look, you can even see for yourself. It sure as shit ain’t there!”

That much was true. Arthur had a mat of hair that went down from his large chest to his stomach and between his legs, but there was nothing else to be seen. John desperately wanted to believe that this was a practical joke, but there was no conceivable way he could think of for Arthur to pull it off. Literally.

Except, after a few long, dramatic pauses, Arthur cracked. He barked a laugh, one which made John’s shoulders tighten and his cheeks flare cherry red. Before he could snap at Arthur, Arthur pushed all his hair back away from his face and waved his hand.

“Ah, I’m just messin’ with ya,” Arthur drawled. “That old thing fell off years ago.”

The annoyance at being laughed at evaded John’s face. In its wake, his eyes snapped open wide again as the colour flooded from his cheeks.

“Yessir, probably when I was about, oh… Twelve, thirteen.” Arthur turned around, trudging back to the water. “I shook it too many times whenever I went to take a piss and one day the damn thing just popped right off in my hand. But never mind that.”

Arthur splashed around, rinsing the soap out of his hair and off his body. Dropping the topic altogether, he said, “Best hurry up an’ finish washin’, Marston; supper won’t wait on our accounts.”

Uneasily, John trailed back to the water. He didn’t have an appetite for supper any more.

                                                     —30—

“If I may,” Dutch announced, as he stepped from the stairs to the open main-floor of the cottage. “I’d like to call a meeting for a moment.”

Hosea, Susan, Mac, and Davey sat around the big dining table in the center of the room, caught amid a poker game. Arthur was across the room, in the kitchen corner, digging through one of their boxes of liquor. Oil lamps burned on the walls, lighting the room in a flickering glow. Smoke hung heavy in the air.

Hosea was the first to look up first from his cards to Dutch. He waved him over.

“Only if you make it quick,” Hosea replied. His eyes returned to the table. “We were having an intellectual and in-depth conversation about politics before Arthur returned, so he didn’t feel left out for not understanding.”

A couple chuckles came from the table. They continued to play as Dutch came around and slid into what was presumably Arthur’s empty spot between Hosea and Davey.

“This involves you too, Arthur, so pay attention,” Dutch said.

“I can hear you just fine. Go ahead.” Arthur grumbled, as he pawed fruitlessly through a rattling box of empty bottles.

“Alright. Now I want adult, honest answers here,” Dutch began. He picked up Arthur’s cards, looked them over, then showed them to Hosea. “I just spent an hour painstakingly talking to the boy, John, about something he was told recently.”

Hosea scanned the cards quickly and nodded silently. Dutch turned them to Davey.

“Alright. What was it?” Hosea asked. He pushed a sizable number of coins into the pot in the center of the table.

Arthur, notably, was silent in the background.

Dutch placed Arthur’s cards back down. He kept his face stony as he could. “Someone, supposedly, convinced the boy that his pecker was going to fall off.”

Davey laughed first, loud and hard. Mac quickly followed with his own chortle. While they both got a kick out of the idea, Susan bit back a grin and Hosea smirked, nodding to his cards. Arthur, in the background, didn’t even try to can his snorting laughter.

Dutch fought hard to keep a stern expression. His lips twitched.

“This ain’t no laughing matter. That boy was scared shitless.”

Mac’s hand shot out to grab onto Hosea’s shoulder. He gripped it, while the rest of his body shook with laughter. Hosea laughed himself, though quieter and more contained.

“You boys are awful,” Susan chided with a smirk. She swatted Davey on the shoulder. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Davey kept laughing. He had already been hitting the bottle since noon, so his laughter carried farther and longer than anyone else’s. “Don’t hit me! I didn’t do it. Wish I had, though.”

“Here, here.” Mac replied.

Dutch turned to his left. “Hosea?”

Hosea patted Mac’s hand, shaking his head. “I would’ve told you already if it were me.”

“And it wasn’t me,” Dutch said, “So it had to have been one of you unlawful bunch.”

Dutch’s eyes roamed across the table and then settled on Arthur in the corner. Innocently, he continued to root through the box with one hand, while he used the other to wipe his mouth.

Dutch narrowed his eyes a little.

“Was it you, Arthur?”

“Me? No, never.” But Arthur couldn’t keep his straight face this time. His cheeks split with a crooked smirk behind his hand.

Dutch scoffed.

“Your poker face is laughable, son. That’s why you’re losing so badly.”

“Actually, it’s ‘cause I’m playin’ with a room full of cheaters… But sure. We’ll go with that.”

Dutch waved his hand.

“Go up there and apologize to the boy, will you? Hell, apologize to me, too, because I spent an hour trying to convince him otherwise and speaking on behalf of topics I am not qualified for.”

“I’m sorry you had to be in the same room as him for that long.”

“Arthur!” Dutch snapped. “Get going! Be the bigger man.”

Arthur had a little, stupid smirk about him as he left the kitchen and crossed the room instead. He slapped Dutch’s shoulder as he walked by.

“You know, if Hosea had done this to me, you wouldn’t have said a word,” Arthur commented. “How come Marston gets all the special treatment?”

“If Hosea had done it, I wouldn’t have to handle it.”

That was all Dutch had to say on the matter, so the rest of the group quieted around the table. Arthur trudged up the stairs, feet pounding the whole way, and eventually they disappeared. Once he did, Dutch tossed Arthur’s cards aside.

“You’re handling the next crisis,” He said to Hosea.

“I figured about as much.”

Then, with a smile, Hosea laid down his winning hand and reaped his rewards from the middle of the table.

[garuda-dreams-of-rain]

The Final, Final Problem

In honor of ILYanniversary2018, I wrote a little story. Please enjoy. 🙏🏻

Also on AO3.

*****

Sherlock kept banging on Molly’s door. “Let me in!” he yelled.

“Go away, Sherlock,” Molly shouted. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit!”

“Please, Molly,” he begged. “You’ve got to let me explain.”

“Go away!”

Sherlock sank down in the hallway and sat, his back against her door. “I’m not leaving!” he bellowed. “Not until you let me in!”

“That’s never going to happen!” she hollered through the door. “You can’t play with my feelings like this! You’re such a bastard!”

Molly’s neighbor Patrick, a rather burly ginger pushing sixty, in his boxer shorts, vest and robe, whipped his door open and glared at Sherlock. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, would ye two please shut up now? It’s three o’clock in the bloody morning and this has been going on for 45 minutes!”

“I can’t leave,” Sherlock said, desperately. “I love her. I told her and she doesn’t believe me. I’m going to sit here until she opens the door or I die.” He crossed his arms and scowled. “I could be bleeding to death out here and fat lot she’d care!” he shouted at the unresponsive door.

“Jaysus,” said Patrick, rubbing his face. He went back inside his flat, pulled two beers out of his fridge, and joined Sherlock on the floor in the hallway, his back against his own door. He passed a beer to Sherlock. “Now, lad, tell me what’s happening.”

Sherlock cracked the beer and opened his mouth to speak, but Patrick held up a warning finger. “Just so ye know, laddie, I have a daughter nearly Molly’s age. She lives in Dublin and I love her more than me life. I look on Molly as me own. If I even think for a second that you’re jerking her around, I’ll be having your kidneys for breakfast. Understand?”

Sherlock swallowed and nodded. “It’s kind of…complicated,” he began.

“Always is, mate,” Patrick responded, evenly.

“Well, I have a sister who’s utterly insane, and locked up in a…um…institution.”

“Runs in the family, does it?” Patrick asked.

Sherlock shot him a look. “Anyway, today she made me call Molly and make her say…those words, but Molly made me say them first, and I knew it was terrible and awful and unforgivable and she was going to hate me but I couldn’t let her get blown up, could I?”

“Bollocks!” Patrick said.

“No, really,” Sherlock continued. “Listen, I know it’s supposed to be lovely and romantic when you tell a girl you love her. I’ve seen the movies, I’m not a complete idiot. There’s supposed to be flowers and rainbows and jewelry and sickening music with swelling strings or at least Frank Sinatra, and France in the background or something. I know that. But when you only have three minutes before the bombs go off, there’s no time to make it nice.”

“Bombs? Real bombs?” Patrick looked around, worried. “There’s bombs here?”

“Well, no. They weren’t real but I didn’t know that at the time. She’s really insane. My sister, I mean, not…Molly. Although she’s acting pretty crazy right now!” he shouted through the door. “Considering that I love her!”

“Fuck off, Sherlock!” Molly hollered back. “I’m going to bed!”

“We’re going to need something stronger than beer, mate,” Patrick sighed, going into his flat and coming out with a bottle and two glasses.

“Is that Irish whiskey?” Sherlock asked, a bit of trepidation in his voice.

“Something wrong with Irish whiskey?” Patrick demanded, narrowing his eyes and pouring them each a measure.

“No!” Sherlock was quick to add. “Fine whiskey. Lovely…people.”

They clinked glasses and downed the shots. Patrick poured some more. “Now, laddie. You’ve known her how long?”

“Seven years.”

“And when, to the nearest of your recollection, did ye start to love her?”

“Seven years ago. Don’t tell her I said that, okay?” Sherlock whispered conspiratorially.

“God almighty, ye are a moron, aren’t ye? And you’ve never told her.”

“Never. My work is rather dangerous, and, um, romantic entanglements could prove…fatal.”

“Well,” Patrick observed, “Now ye have a choice. Death from work, death from Molly, or death from me. Choose.” At Sherlock’s panicked expression, he burst out laughing. “I’m just having ye on, lad. But now, you’re going to have to clarify why romantic entanglements could be fatal.”

“Well, I have to keep my mind sharp and focused. If I’m thinking about Molly’s beautiful brown eyes at the wrong time, or that adorable little giggle, or the way she bites her bottom lip, or her cute upturned nose, or her…frankly terrible taste in clothes, or the way she makes jokes about death, or her kind heart which I don’t deserve, or the way she slaps me so..good…”

“Careful there, lad,” Patrick warned. “I don’t need to be hearing about your sex life.”

“We don’t have a sex life!” Sherlock shouted. “Because she won’t believe me when I tell her I love her! And god, now you’ve made me think about that and now I really am going to die.”

“So, ye don’t want to love her because you’re afraid of getting distracted at work?” Patrick shook his head. “Lad, I’m an iron worker. I spend me life running around on girders two, three hundred meters in the air. One wrong step and I’ll be a splat on the pavement. And as much as I adore me wife, which is to say with a powerful yearning that astonishes me every single day, I stay focused so I can go back to her sweet arms every single night. If I can do it, ye can do it. Every man knows that. ‘Cor blimey, mate, what kind of an idiot are ye?”

“I’m a lovesick idiot.” Sherlock muttered.

“That much is obvious,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “You’re going to have to woo her, lad.”

“What? You mean, stand here, sing songs, that kind of nonsense? Do you have a lute I can borrow?” Sherlock snort-laughed and took another shot. “If she would just let me in I know I could explain it to her.”

“Tell me instead.”

“Oh god,” Sherlock groaned. “She asked me out when we first met, but I shied off because she was so cute and adorable and I was immediately attracted to her, but I knew it was going to be a problem. So I put her off. But then I got to know her more, and I found out she was different from other girls…women. She was so strong and kept her dignity even when I insulted her that Christmas and I felt bad so I apologized. I never feel bad! I never apologize! I love her so much I even like it when she makes me feel terrible!”

Sherlock leaned over and yelled through the door. “I’m sorry, Molly! Please forgive me!” He turned back to Patrick. “Christ, look at me, I’m apologizing!”

“Aye, laddie, the terrible depths to which you’ve sunk,” Patrick chuckled.

Sherlock shook his head woefully and continued. “And then sometimes I’d want to see her so badly I could barely breathe, and sometimes I avoided her because it hurt to see her and not be with her, but she saw me and helped me and I trusted her with my life, and she kept my secret for two years! Two years! She saved my life. I owe her…everything. Everything. And when I came back I almost went for it because I was so lonely and she’s so lovely and I knew I was being a fool but I couldn’t help it because…”

“…you’re an idiot,” Patrick said.

“…because I’m an idiot and I didn’t see how wonderful and perfect she is, and she was engaged to that…sex maniac, and I wanted to punch him but then I thought why shouldn’t she have someone who’s good for her and not me? Someone…normal, someone who will cherish her and keep her safe and not me, running around chasing murderers and getting people into trouble. And then I couldn’t stop getting high, which is bad, I know it’s bad, but sometimes I can’t help it and then things have just been so…difficult and Mary died and I wanted to run to her...Molly, I mean, and just hold her but I couldn’t, because…”

“…you’re an arsehole,” Patrick said.

“…because I’m an arsehole and I was scared to do it because I’m not worthy of her, not at all and the next thing I knew there’s my sister whom I didn’t know I had, and I had to make her say it...Molly, I mean, or she would die and then I would die because I can’t live without her,” he finished, sorrowfully. “And now I’m going to sit here until she forgives me or I expire of unrequited love.”

Patrick stared at the younger man sitting opposite. He shook his head. “Laddie, you’re a mess, there’s no doubt about it. And a bit of a drama queen, too, I reckon. But I think you’ll have no problems.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked. “She won’t even talk to me.”

“No, but she heard you.”

“How do you know?” Sherlock wailed. “She went to bed, and I’m out here dying and she doesn’t even care!”

“Because I can see her shadow under the door,” Patrick answered. “She’s been sitting there listening to every word ye said. If the door wasn’t there, ye’d be sitting back to back.” He shook his head, got to his feet and knocked loudly on Molly’s door. “Open the door, ye daft lass! There’s a boyo out here who loves ye!”

The door flew open and Sherlock fell backwards through the frame. Molly squealed and jumped on him, straddling his hips and pressing kisses all over his face. “You do love me!” she exclaimed. “You love me!” Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, wildly, happily.

“Of course I do, Molly,” Sherlock managed to say between kisses. “What did you think?”

“Now,” Patrick said, “ye two get up off the floor and get in there before I have to call the police and report ye for making a public nuisance of yourselves, disturbing the peace and whatnot. Jaysus, young folks today!”

They scrambled to their feet. Molly yanked Sherlock inside and slammed the door shut. Over the sound of their giggles from the other side of the door, Patrick yelled, “Don’t forget now, I get to give the bride away!”

“Patrick, ye foolish man,” said his wife, leaning in their doorway in her nightgown, her eyes shining. “Get back in here and leave them young lovers alone. It’s half three in the morning and I’m going to give ye a thorough snog, I am, because I love ye more than life itself.”

[bba-sae]

Battlefield(Preview)

Pairing: Yuta/Reader

Genre: RA!YUta

Word Count: As of now: Around 4K, will probably end up being around 10K

Summary: Some feuds can only end the hard way.

Release date: [Soonest]: End of this week [Latest]: Early November

Author’s note: Hey friends, it’s been awhile since I’ve posted something and I wanted to let you know that I am writing. I’m actually working on like 4 different thing. but I’ve been working on this one for awhile, so I figured I would give you guys a preview. Let me know what you think of it, if I should even finish or just throw it in the trash. Your comments will help determinehow soon I’ll finish(: 

There’s a funny thing about feuds and how word of it spreads like wildfire.

 Freshmen know not to mention it on their first day, advisors shy away from confronting the subject, too scared to figure out the details and the other RAs simply watch the mess unfold, piece by goddamn piece.

But right in the middle of the storm, was where you stood looking through eyes of pure, unadulterated hatred. From your fingertips, you conjured a tempest of preposterous strength, leaving no mercy for the ones who are reluctantly pulled in. Though, the turmoil caused could by no means simply be produced by you alone; for every war starts with two sides plotting. In this case, the opposition took form in a heathen by the name of Yuta.

An arrogant fucker he was.

The mere thought brought a pounding surge through your head, rendering you irked beyond your limit. No one quite knew the story that manifested such disgust from the both of you, and to be candid, everyone was too scared to ask. The sheer mention of the other already brought a fiery glimmer in each others eyes that further insight might be something of a nightmare.

It had become precedent to keep the your radiuses from overlapping, a rule of conduct established by every committee, board, and student of your university. That was until, unbeknownst to both parties, your choices in residence halls exhibited severe propinquity to the other. Two buildings, adjacent to the others and far too close for comfort. So close, in fact, a few steps out one door lead to the lobby of the other. In the past, the Darley buildings housed best friends as resident assistances that wanted to see each other as often as possible. 

But Darley North also had the hottest girls that Yuta just couldn’t resist, and Darley South’s dorms had to have been the nicest on the campus, you rather enjoyed it’s coziness. Both of you had figured you wouldn’t mind who occupied the building next door, deeming it completely worth it with your respective choices. Both of you have never regretted a decision more in your life.

“He’s in Darley north?” You stare at your friend, shock overcoming your body, mingling with the absolute anger bubbling through you. She shrugged, thinking nothing of it as she replied nonchalantly.

“He’s in Darley north.” She utters, accustomed to your feud and frankly, quite bored of it. 

You clench your fists as you drop it onto the table yet Lisa still doesn’t seem all that phased by it. She has known you for years, the same reaction whenever his name is uttered. “And I’m in Darley south?”

“And you’re in Darley south.”

You take a deep breath, rolling your head back as you lean farther into your chair, “And I have to see him at the meeting?”

“You get to see him at the meeting.” She says instead, always remaining honest about her opinion of the boy. She looks at you with a smile, fully aware of how much Yuta’s undeniable charm gets under you skin. 

“Fuck.” You mutter, already feeling the headache pulse through your temple. You lean into the table, a heavy sigh following your words in despair. 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you to do! I’m surprised you haven’t jumped on the chance to screw a gorgeous piece of ass like that.” Lisa bobs her head as she bites her lip, imagining the boy himself. It wasn’t hard to see that Yuta likely had almost every girl wrapped around his finger, you hated that the most. But even you couldn’t lie to yourself, Yuta was hot shit, and he knew it. But wrath has put it’s own pair of glasses on you, and they definitely weren’t rose tinted. 

You gag involuntarily and glare when you’re through. Lisa rolls her eyes when you speak, your words going in one ear and out the other, “You disgust me.”

“Look, I don’t know what he did to you, and frankly I don’t want to know, but you have to admit, he’s pretty cute. Cocky bastard and all, but still better than all your other options.”

“No never, he’s a pig, and I want to slap that disgusting smirk off his pretty little face every time I see him”

“Awe,” You hear a sinister voice coo from behind you, your fist clench in habit and a pounding rushes through your head. He’s here. You turn around in your chair slowly, craning your neck upward to look at the lord of all fuck boys himself, “You think I’m pretty?” 

Yuta crouches down in front of you, a new level so that he must look up at you. He smiles and tilts his head to the side, hands clasp each other between legs. He’s so close to you, so dangerously close, you swear to god, you just had to move your hand just a little bit and punch him square in the nose. 

But you’ve already been reported from the last party, so playing nice was all you had. 

You let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes and opening them one more time, hoping he was just an annoying figment of your imagination, “Oh yeah, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous.” You reply nonchalantly, tilting your head and squinting your eyes, “if I squint my eyes, like, so much so my eyes are closed and I can stare at that dark void which is ten times more pleasant than your actual presence.” You open your eyes again, and Yuta has a smug smirk on his face again. 

So close, you could punch a tooth out too. “Awe, you think you’re intimidating.” He says again in such a patronizing tone, you almost don’t care about your position as an RA anymore. He gets up from his position, his height towering over your still sitting figure,  “You’re so small, it’s almost like I can’t even see you.”

You shrug and cross your arms, leaning against the table your sat at, “Funny, isn’t that what that girl said when she left your place the other night?” The boy gasps, and all anyone in earshot distance can do is laugh quietly to themselves, 

“Yuta, honey, I have connections everywhere, I hear everything.”

Yuta shifts awkwardly under your mocking gaze before he attempts to compose himself. A loud cackle escapes from Lisa’s throat, her hand being thrown up to cover her mouth. “You kind of set yourself up for that one.” She explains through her fit of laughter. The boy in front of you sends a pointed glare to your friend, sharp enough to shut her mouth.

“I heard you’re in Darley South.” Yuta says as he coughs into his mouth, a nonchalant gaze straying from your figure and scanning the blurbs of people too unimportant to focus on. The two girls in the corner passing whispers of gossip, the young couple struggling to survive their first “study date”, the stoner who’s text book hides just how far away his mind is; all of them seem to blend into colors and patterns in contrast with the details of your face. Of which Yuta has remembered perfectly. He says it’s because you haunt him in his sleep, and you assume it’s another jab at your ego. Yet only he knows that these dreamscapes were of a much different experience. A secret he doesn’t dare to admit. 

“And you’re in Darley North.” You say bluntly, watching his eyes flicker back to you. You stand up to alleviate the daunting height difference, though it doesn’t help all that much. Yuta’s eyes focus into yours, your stare down building up enough tension to suffocate everyone.

“Give up your spot.” Both of you are startled at your synchronization, but neither of you are willing to back down. Within seconds the two of spiral down into a battle of spitfire phrases, no one really knowing when you give yourselves the time to think. The words come out one after another, sharper than the last yet neither of you breakdown your resolve enough to actually be hurt by it.   

“I’ve worked too hard these two years to have my junior of college ruined by a barbarian like you.”

“So have I, you fucking she-devil.”

“Sleeping with the senior resident assistant that assigns us does not count as hard work.”

“Says you, I didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.” Yuta ponders the thought for a moment, a sly smirk ascending on his face. He turns his eyes back to you, a face full of pure disgust staring back at him. “It’s exhausting only giving and not receiving, but I guess you wouldn’t know either side of that.”

“You’re insufferable.” 

“You’re a bitch.”

“Just sleep with each other already.” Lisa sighs before collecting her things in her arms. She stuffs her books in her backpack and rolls her eyes at the two of you. Your blank stares entertain the girl, causing her to stifle a laugh. 

“I have standards.” Yuta retorts, only to be shot down again by your verbal hits. You look at Lisa annoyed before an exaggerated turn of your head brings you back to Yuta. His face contorts in disgust from the proximity of your faces, a faked gesture that Yuta never fails at. “Yeah, they have to be as dimwitted and desperate as he is.” 

“That is no way to speak of your mother.” He feigns authority, trying to imitate a stern fathers voice. He grins, hands shoved into his pockets as he leans, leans so close to you, you feel the demons of impulse take over you. 

You swear it wasn’t really you who punched him in the nose.

[callmemrscurtis]

Meeting Dally and Soda/ Them meeting you (and me!!)

My Pov

Y/n and I sat in one of the booths at Charlie’s, a popular ice cream place down the block from school. We walked there after class and considering how intense testing has been lately I thought we could use a snack and a minute to relax. We talked about the cute new intern at school and how bad we thought we did on the test. As our orders arrived, a couple of greasers showed up.

“Oh great,” I muttered, aggressively taking a spoon to my sundae.

“What’s a matter?” y/n asked.

“Don’t look now but we have a couple of greasers on our hands,” Of course immediately after I told her she spun around to get a good look being super obvious.

“Oh but that’s Sodapop he works at that gas station on-” I immediately shushed her but she wasn’t done, “don’t you have a MASSIVE cru-” This time I was practically shouting at her to shut up. I wouldn'ta freaked out so much if she kept her voice down. It was just our luck they sat at the booth behind Tracy.

“Some cute Soc girls huh, Soda?” The blonde one asked.

Dally’s Pov

Steve and Soda got into a huge fight at work and since I don’t like Steve very much I decided to take Soda for a milkshake or somethin’. I chose Charlie’s ‘cause it was closest and quite frankly I’m not spending crazy money on the kid because he’ll extend the offer to some broad he’s tryin'a pick up. I can’t argue though, lots of cute girls hang out there.

I walked in and damn I was right. A pretty girl with curly y/h/c hair turned around probably looking for the jukebox or maybe the bathroom. I didn’t have a chance to choose a place to sit cause Soda dashed to the booth behind them, leaving me the seat behind that girl I was checkin out.

“Some cute Soc girls huh, Soda?” I asked wanting to grab their attention. I turned around motioning toward them with my head- for Soda to get the message. The girl with straight hair rolled her eyes but the curly haired cutie straightened up her posture.

“Yeah, man…what dolls,” Soda answered and winked at the other chick with a smile, she smiled back and ate a scoop of her ice cream.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” The brunette across from her laughed at that word so I assumed curly didn’t like it. “Mine is Dally…just so you know what to scream when we…get into a fight.” She scooted further down the seat of booth, toward the table while the other gave me a disapproving look.

“That’s not why I want to know their names,” Soda added. “I want to say it all night long…you know when we talk on the phone.” The brunette girl was disgusted and tried to continue their conversation.

“So, LIKE I WAS SAYING-” I wasn’t done though so I continued.

I reached over the separators for the booths and pulled some hair behind the girls ear so she could hear me while I whispered. “Doll, we could get outta here. Just you and me…right now. I got a room we could get to and hey, don’t worry about your friend, my buddy Sodapop could take real good care of her or if you’re into it-”

“Okay, stop. Right there, I’m trying to enjoy a nice day out with my friend and you don’t have a chance with me so shut up, turn around and leave me the fuck alone.” I liked her attitude I wanted nothing more than to keep going back and forth with her.

“Hey, Dal… I think you should let this one go,” I don’t know who Soda thinks he is but if he knew me there’s no way he’d ever suggest something as stupid as surrendering so early in the chase.

My Pov I really wanted to tell that boy to shut up but his friend was staring at me with a smile and it was so hot I was waiting for my ice cream to melt. I finally snapped out when he tried that stupid pickup technique on me.

“I want to take you out-” Dally started. I was already uncomfortable and y/n clearly didn’t want to be there so I tried to eat my sundae faster and y/n didn’t need an excuse to chug her milkshake.

“Listen, hood and listen close. We don’t need to you compliment us and say borderline dirty things to make yourself feel tough, k? You aren’t embarrassing us really you’re making yourselves look ridiculous and desperate enough to slip to the level in which you’re on. That being said, I invite you to have a nice evening WITHOUT us.” I stated like a true feminist. “y/nn, I’m gonna go pay the bill…boys,” they turned to me. “Behave yourselves.”

Sodapop slid out of the booth to catch up with me and my heart sank. 'Dammit’ I repeated in my head.

“Look, I’m awful sorry 'bout Dally, he can be really um- intense sometimes.” I was screaming inside but I somehow managed to maintain a calm exterior.

“Yes, well I’d thank you but you joined in and I don’t like, let alone go out with, assholes who follow the crowd…it’s a shame too,” I gave him the elevator.

“Excuse me?” He had this stupid, attractive smirk that he paired with a laugh.

“I have to shut down possibly the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen,” I couldn’t believe I said that but I turned around to continue walking to the register.

“Wait!” He called out, grabbing my wrist, the mother fuck spun me around. “How do you think I feel?” I gave him a puzzled expression. “The hottest girl in the place just rejected me.”

“Okay, tell you what… I will write my number on my receipt if you go and make sure my friend over there doesn’t kill yours.” I didn’t know if I was lying or not about giving him my number and y/n killing Dally but I would’ve kissed him if he said anything else to me.

“How do I know you won’t write a fake?” Soda asked.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me,” I finished with a wink.

“I’m Sodapop by the way.”

“I know, I’m Christina.”

“I know.” Before I could say anything he ran back to the booth.

Your Pov

He dirty talked the whole time Christina was paying the check. Four references to sex, five about my name and three calling me out for playing hard to get. The one that really hit me was when he didn’t even try to cover and pretend it coincidentally sounded dirty.

“Look, I’m going to be honest. I’m just trying to fuck and after that I’m never going to call you again. You down or what?”

“Dallas, you are disgusting and I’m counting the seconds until Christina comes back so we can leave. Don’t so much as think about trying to follow us home… her dad is a cop,” he looked like one anyway.

“Tell him 'Winston says hello’,” that’s when Soda came back. A few seconds later and Christina returned from the counter. I shot Dallas a final disgusted look before we left and Christina was right behind me. That’s the last I hope to see that kid.

Soda’s Pov

Christina came back from the register with a small slip folded between her fingers. She sat in the booth for a few more minutes while she finished up her sundae. Not wasteful, I love it.

Her friend y/n, I’m assuming, didn’t rush her but she couldn’t sit still so I could sense she wanted out of there. Dally quit trying to pick her up but she was still on alert. Christina on the other hand, took every bite carefully and stared back at me, speaking slowly in response to y/n.

As they stood up, I’ll admit I was pretty bummed but that went away when she pulled the paper out. y/n speed-walked out of the place and looked really upset but all I could focus on was that receipt.

Christina walked up to me, leaned over, bending slightly and placed it in my shirt pocket. I traced her arm with my eyes all the way up to her face and watched her walk out the door. I waited to open it until Dallas yelled at me and somewhat convinced me it was blank or a fake but he was wrong. It read- in the most adorable script:

You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you? See you at the DX!!

*I'd change it to you and your bff but I'm too tired so I'll fix it in the morning.*