#it’s not a poster (I would be ok cutting a poster down a half inch)

[butcherb1rd]

bought a frame for a fancy art print :D

the frame is too small because OF COURSE it is :(

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Careful

So after I wrote that last Paul fic involving vaginismus, I got quite a few messages saying how much it meant to some of you and I just want to say how much it warms my heart to bring others joy or comfort through my writing. Like I’ve been telling a lot of you, fan fictions are amazing. I love them. But they’re not always realistic, and that can be damaging to people who think sex is supposed to go a certain way and then blame themselves when it’s not like that. We’re all different, and everyone deserves to have a partner that cares about your well-being and pleasure. Don’t settle for less. 

Seth Clearwater x vaginismus!reader smut 

(Seth is 18+ in this)

Being with Seth Clearwater was, in a word, magical. He truly was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. He was always there for you when you were upset or having anxiety, always made you smile and laugh, got you cute little presents or sometimes cool rocks that he found on patrol, and was super physically affectionate. Hugs, kisses, cuddles, hickeys, hand-holding. Y’all were the poster children for PDA. It made you nervous when you first started dating, because you thought he would want to get intimate right away. You knew that if you told him you didn’t want to have sex right away, he would be more than understanding. That’s just the kind of person he was. But you feared that holding off on intimacy would damage your relationship. Seth’s love language was physical touch. Yours was too, so stopping things every time it got too heated was a big roadblock in the relationship. Or so you thought. 

The day came where you had to tell Seth about your vaginismus. He had asked tons of questions before letting you know how he felt about it all. What causes it? What does it feel like? How does the physical therapy work? Is there anything I can do to help? Once you explained the logistics of it all, you guys could start to be more open and honest about what you were comfortable with doing. It turns out, he thought you just didn’t want to be intimate with him. He thought you were only sticking around because of the imprint bond. Once you explained that yes, you definitely really really want to have sex with him, you just can’t right now, he was all smiles and wanted to try all kinds of stuff that didn’t involve penetration. You guys would have super open conversations about what he could and couldn’t do to you, and started experimenting with the things you were comfortable with. Let’s just say, Seth became an absolute master in the art of oral sex. For a while, it was all he could do, so he did it. A lot. I mean, you’d have to physically pull him away sometimes when it got too sensitive. He loved knowing that he could make you feel so much pleasure. It made him feel needed. Wanted. And of course you returned the favor. 

You guys definitely have the foreplay routine down pat. Seth was almost always there when it came time for you to dilate every day. He would sit next to you, hold your hand, kiss you, or just talk to you about his day. Whatever you wanted, and whatever would distract you. He was so supportive, that when the day finally came that you wanted to try having penetrative sex with him, he said no. He didn’t think you had been using the biggest dilator long enough. What if he hurt you? What if you just didn’t like it? What if what if what if….. 

But you had been waiting long enough. His support honestly turned you on. Every day when he would sit there while you did your therapy, you wanted to jump his bones for being so. Damn. sweet. No guy had ever cared about you to the point of withholding from sex for you. They always just let you put up with the pain. Not Seth. 

“But baby, what if it hurts you?” he voiced. 

“Then we can stop and try again another time.” 

“But what if-”

“Seth,” you cut him off. “I know my body. Believe me, I’ve had to pay attention to it every day for the past year and a half while I did my exercises. I’m ready. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but don’t say no because of me. I want to try.” You sounded so soft and adorable while you said the last part that he nearly melted through the floor. Here he was, with the most beautiful girl on the planet all but begging him to have sex with her, and he was hesitating. That’s what love made you do. 

“Ok, we can try. But you have to promise, I mean really promise, that the second it starts to feel anything but good, you’ll tell me.” His voice was laced with concern. 

“I promise,” you said with so much confidence that he had to believe you. 

“Alright. So we’re doing this. Did you want to… try it like, now?” The poor boy was a blushing mess right now. You just nodded your head and smiled. “Okay. Cool. Yeah, that’s cool. We can do it now. I’m totally down with that.” You knew based off of the way he was acting that you were going to have to make the first move, so you walked up, grabbed his face between your hands, and kissed him.

 He seemed stiff, so you pulled away and said, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah! Yeah, yeah. Everything is perfect. I just… do you want to go to my room?” Again, you just nodded, and let him take your hand and lead you into his bedroom, closing the door behind you guys. Jeez, he seemed more nervous than you were. You sat down on the middle of his bed, and reached your arms out and did grabby-hands until he laughed and joined you, lying you down and hovering over you. He kissed you sweetly, giving you every opportunity to say stop. You didn’t, but instead threaded your fingers up through his inky hair and pulled him closer to you. He took this as a green light to deepen the kiss, and brush his tongue up against your own. You guys continued kissing for a while since this was comfortable territory for you both. He eventually started moving his hands under your shirt, first massaging your stomach with his thumb and then moving up. He pulled back from you suddenly, eyes wide. “No bra?” 

“Nope. I didn’t want anything to get in the way today,” you smirked and slid your hands over his shoulders. He had a look of awe on his face as he pulled the hem of your shirt up. You sat up and took it off, throwing it to the floor. Okay, yeah, so you were eager. You’d never enjoyed sex before and you thought you actually might for the first time. It was exciting. 

As you laid back down, his eyes never left yours. He came back down for another kiss before trailing his mouth down your jaw, suckling at your neck for a few minutes before it was covered in faint red marks, and moved down to your breasts. Seth had always worshipped your chest. It was one of his favorite parts of your body. The size, the shape, the feel, were all beyond perfect to him. You gasped as he took a nipple into his mouth, your back arching up into him. He brought his hand up to massage your other breast while his tongue continued swirling around the first one. You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, just relaxing into the feeling and letting your muscles be at ease. He sat up for a second, which was far too long, to take his shirt off, and you opened your eyes to admire his sculpted body. You would have loved him even if he wasn’t a shapeshifting beast, but damn, the muscles that came with were such a nice bonus. And they weren’t just for show. You never told him this, but whenever he picked you up so easily or carried you around or pushed you up against a wall, you got beyond turned on. You always wondered what it would be like to have him actually get rough with you, but that would be for another time. 

Once Seth thought your boobs had been shown enough attention, he slid his hand back down to your stomach, and then lower. He fiddled with the waistband of your jeans before popping the button at the front and dragging the zipper down torturously slow. You felt so hot at this point that you thought you would climb out of your skin if he didn’t touch you properly soon. You raised your hips in a silent signal for him to take them off, but he was too distracted by the feeling of your soft skin to notice. 

“Seth,” you whispered. He looked up at you, hand already stilling in case you wanted to stop. 

“What’s wrong?” he panicked. 

“Nothing is wrong. Can you help me take these off?” His eyes widened at this, and then he smiled. He sat up on his knees, gripping the waistband of your jeans on either side of you, and you raised your hips as he pulled them down slowly, admiring your legs as each inch of them was revealed. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the lacey g-string you were wearing, which you had bought specially for this moment. You never really cared about wearing cute underwear before since it would always end up on the floor anyways, but this was a big day. At least you hoped it would be. So you wanted to wear something cute, and boy did Seth appreciate it. 

Once your jeans were all the way off, he gave a low whistle and said, “damn. My girlfriend is the most beautiful woman alive. How did I get so lucky?” 

You hit his shoulder and looked away blushing at this. And then… oh, then. 

Your sexy werewolf boyfriend lay down on his stomach in between your thighs, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, and gave you a smirk that could only be described as savagely canine. He kissed the insides of your thighs, nipping here and there before soothing with his tongue, inching closer and closer to where you really wanted him to be. He liked to take his time with this part. He flattened his tongue and gave your center a broad lick over your panties, eliciting a small gasp. He did this several more times until your hips were writhing and grinding, desperate for more friction. He reached under you, gripping the fabric of your underwear before all but ripping them off you. 

“Hey, easy. Those were expensive,” you haphazardly pointed, too lost in the moment to really care. 

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he spoke lowly into your center right before diving in and wrapping his lips around you, sucking and kneading with his tongue. You gave a small moan, fingers once again tangling in his hair. He kept this up, alternating between firm licks and small sucks, his tongue constantly flicking that perfect spot. Seth heard in Paul’s head through the mind link once that porn wasn’t accurate at all to what women actually got off on. You were supposed to pick 2, maybe 3 key moves and do those until she was close, and then just keep doing exactly that until she came. Women are about consistency and rhythm, so if you change it up, they have to start all over. This advice had not failed him yet. Had not failed either of you, and you could have kissed Paul if you found out that that’s where Seth had gotten this tip. Fifteen delicious minutes later and you were teetering on the edge. You used to be insecure about how long you took to finish, but Seth had always reassured you that he just wanted you to feel good, and he would spend all day between your legs if he could. You were right there, legs shaking and eyes screwed shut, but couldn’t quite get that knot in your stomach to unravel. Seth pulled away, sensing your impatience, and knew you needed a little push. He got up and opened your bedside table, pulling out the large bottle of lube that you used for dilating, slathering his middle finger in it, and laid back down between your legs. 

You knew what he was going to do, and trusted him enough to be careful, so you lie back and relax, knowing he would get you there no matter what. He dove back in with his lips, tongue flicking and rubbing for another few seconds before positioning his finger at your entrance, swirling it around to distribute the lube. He looked up at you, knowing you liked to guide his hand at first to make sure you were comfortable. You grabbed his hand, sliding his finger in slowly, inch by inch. You were pretty worked up at this point, so it didn’t take very long before his finger way fully inside you. He stilled his hand, waiting for you to give the all-clear, still sucking at your clit like a starving man. You tugged at his hair, shifting your hips against his hand, which he knew to be the cue to start moving. You didn’t much like the in-out feeling of being fingered. You preferred the pressure of him pressing on certain spots. He twisted his finger slowly so that his palm was facing upward, and began to stroke your top wall, making you shudder. 

This was going to push you over that edge. Several minutes of consistency, pressure, and suction had you cumming hard, grinding on his face and moaning his name loudly. When you came down, Seth was still going, though more gently since he knew how sensitive you got post-orgasm. You had to whine and tug on his hair to get him to take his mouth off you, his finger stilling but remaining inside. 

“Wow,” you breathed, eyes closed in a haze.

“Wow yourself, Gorgeous,” he winked at you. You made a move to reach down and grab him through his sweatpants, but Seth was quick to pull your hand away. “This is about you tonight,” he said with total sincerity. You wanted to argue that it was about both of you, but you knew he had his mind set on taking care of you, so you decided to let him. “You ready to try, baby?” 

“Hell yes,” you laughed, sitting up. “Maybe I could start on top? That’s how I dilate and I could control it better that way.” 

“I was just about to say the same thing,” he teased back. He moved to lie back against the headboard after taking his pants off as you kneeled on the edge of the bed, grabbing the bottle of lube. While you were turned away from him, he brought his hand to a cheeky slap on your ass, catching you by surprise. 

“Hey!” You squealed and then giggled, turning to give him a playful glare. 

“I couldn’t resist! It was right there,” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

You simply rolled your eyes at this, grabbing a condom from the bedside table as well. You turned to him, still kneeling, and handed him the condom, which he ripped open with his teeth (and it was so hot). He slowly rolled it onto his rock hard dick, keeping a hand around the base as he looked up at you. “You absolutely sure about this?” he questioned. 

“Yes Seth. I really want to.” 

With this, you climbed up to straddle his lap, squirting generous amounts of lube onto him and spreading it around with your hand. You knelt up, positioning him at your entrance after throwing the lube on the floor. He sat straight up, hands going around your waist, one reaching up behind you to cradle your head. He gave you a passionate kiss as you lowered slightly, letting the tip of him find its way in. You stopped here, doing some deep breathing as Seth stared intently at your face, looking for any signs of discomfort. Seth was slightly smaller than your largest dilator, but what had you slightly concerned was the friction. The in-out-in-out factor usually caused you pain when you tried bouncing on your dilators. You would just have to keep the lube on stand-by and remember to breathe with your stomach. 

When you were sure you would be ok, you lowered more, sinking down an inch with every exhale. Seth lovingly rubbed your back, hand petting your hair as he waited patiently for you to adjust. You felt unbelievable around him, but he didn’t want to express too much pleasure, fearful that you would put up with any pain for his benefit. He settled for nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, holding you as close as he physically could. You lightly scratched at his shoulders, holding on for dear life. You had to stop for a moment at the half-way point, trying your best to control your pelvic muscles and picturing a flower bud opening in your mind. Slowly, you lowered another inch, and then another, and another, until you could feel his thighs touch you. At this, you sat down fully on his lap, his cock sheathed fully inside of you. 

I need a minute you thought. This was a lot. Silicone dilators were one thing, but to have your boyfriend inside you like this was completely different. He was warm, hot even, and you could feel his pulse, feel the throb in his veins. The twitch of him deep inside you. 

“Fuck,” Seth gasped quietly, as if he didn’t want you to hear. 

“Feels good?” you questioned. 

“Mm-hmm. Are you okay?” He asked right back, face still buried in your neck. 

“I think so. Just give me a second.” 

“Take all the time you need, baby. Do you want me to touch you?” His hand came over from your back and he grazed your lower stomach with his knuckles. 

“No. Too much,” was all the answer he needed before he wrapped his arm around your back once again, massaging your skin soothingly. This was going on too long, you thought. Seth was probably dying right now. You didn’t want him to suffer, so you lifted your hips a couple inches, sinking back down on him. You felt a stinging sensation at your entrance, but ignored it. Before you could lift your hips again, Seth grabbed your waist in a vice-like grip, still holding you against him but stopping all movement. 

“Don’t you dare,” he spoke softly yet firmly. “I can feel how tense your muscles are right now. Relax and then you can try again.” You wanted to cry at this. He was getting frustrated. He was going to break up with you! But you silenced those negative comments and realized he was right. So you took some deep breaths again, focusing on the pressure of his tip deep in your walls, the feel of his fingers grazing your back, his other hand playing with your hair. You closed your eyes and focused only on the sensations. “There you go, Sweetheart,” he said as he felt you relax around him. Instead of going straight up and down this time, you ground your hips against his, making circles on top of him. And it felt… good? Jesus. For the first time in your life, sex wasn’t hurting. It still felt a little tight and stiff, but it didn’t hurt. So you kept at it. Your breathing picked up at the sensation, along with the exertion of kneeling for so long. Seth pulled his face out of your neck and used the hand that was petting your hair to pull you into a passionate kiss. You guys made out as you continued to circle your hips, both of your breathing labored. Seth gripped your ass in one of his hands, helping control your movements as your legs began to shake. 

“You getting tired, baby?” he questioned, even though he could see that you were. You just nodded, slowing down a little. “Do you want to try a different position? Maybe one where I could do some work?” You wanted to, but were nervous. The trust you had for Seth was absolute, but what other position could work? 

“Like what?” you questioned hesitantly.

He thought for a moment, hands stilling your hips, before he cracked a smile. “I have an idea. Here,” he spoke as he shifted you both further down the bed and laid back so he was flat on his back, you still on top of him. He brought you down so you were stomach to stomach, hands going to the small of your back, and planted his feet on the bed. He held you close as he lightly thrusted up into you. 

“Oh,” you breathed a moan. This felt really good. Being on top and controlling the movement had been good to adjust, but having Seth fuck up into you like this was another level of pleasure. He barely thrusted, but still hit the right spots. And you could still easily lift your hips to pull away if it started to hurt. 

“Good?” he whispered.

“Mm-hmm. Oh my God,” you whispered to yourself, reaching up with one hand to grab the headboard. You thought you heard him breath a laugh, but were too lost in the moment to pay much attention to anything but Seth’s movements. He kept a steady pace of small thrusts, going slowly, never questioning the pace or pushing your limits. After a while, you started to push your hips back against his as he went into you. 

“You want to try going a little faster, Sweetheart?” he questioned gently. 

“Yes,” you said with half-lidded eyes as you looked right into Seth’s coffee-colored irises. 

He brought himself out a little further at this, pushing back into you slightly faster than before, and hitting that perfect soft spot inside you that had your toes curl. You released a real moan this time, and Seth swore he could have cum from that sound alone. He kept this pace up, not daring to go any faster since you both were already enjoying it so much and he didn’t want to risk ruining the moment with pain. For the first time in your life, you felt actual pleasure from penetration, and you wanted more. You wanted to cum, and you felt like you actually could. With this realization, you brought one of your hands down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles on it that had your moans go up in pitch. 

Seth grabbed your hand, putting it back on his chest as he reached down and began rubbing you with his own fingers and cockily stating, “That’s my job.” You felt your eyes roll back in your head at this, and it was the hottest thing Seth had ever seen. You felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, tightening faster than it ever had before. After just a couple more minutes of this, you moan “Oh, Seth. I think I’m gonna cum.” Of course this only spurred him on to keep going. Consistency, he reminded himself. Don’t change a thing. And he didn’t, not until you were seeing stars, trembling on top of him and screaming his name as your climax crashed into you like a wave. You had to rip his hand off your dripping center when the sensations became too much, and he stilled inside of you. 

“Did you finish?” you questioned him once you came down, confused. If he had, it had sure been subtle. 

“No, but I didn’t know if you were okay to keep going. You seem pretty sensitive right now.” 

“Seth, I want you to cum too. Just… do you think you could like, not take a while? Like, could you finish in the next couple minutes? I’m okay now but I don’t want to push it.” 

“Baby, I can finish in the next 30 seconds after looking at your face while you came like that.” You blushed deeply at this, breath picking back up again as he continued to gently thrust into you. He screwed his eyes shut after a couple thrusts, losing rhythm in his hips as he spilled into the condom with a growl and relaxed underneath you. “Fuck,” was all he said. 

You laughed. “Yeah, fuck.” 

He let you sit up and pull off of him at your own pace before dismounting and moving to walk to the bathroom. 

“Wait! Wait,” he almost yelled, startling you half to death as he sat up, removed and tied off the condom, and hopped off the bed to throw it away. “This is the part where you let me clean you up and take care of you.” 

“You just did take care of me, Seth,” which made him giggle. 

“Not like that silly goose! Just stay there.” He joked as he made his way into the bathroom, coming out with a damp towel. “Spread ‘em,” he motioned towards your legs. You laughed deeply, obliging. He was ultra gentle as he wiped the lube off the insides of your thighs, kissing your knees as he finished. Then, he threw the towel into the hamper and retrieved his softest sweatshirt and placed it over your head as you moved your arms into the sleeves. “And now, we cuddle.” He looked so damn pleased with himself. 

You laid your head on Seth’s warm chest, his arms coming to wrap around your waist. You two stayed like this for a while, just soaking in the details of what just happened. You did it. You had sex with your boyfriend. Actual penetrative sex, and it didn’t hurt. 

As if reading your mind, Seth spoke. “I’m so proud of you.” 

[mosswillow]

Your room (Dark!Peter Parker x Reader)

Word count 3.3k

!!!!! This is dark! And explicit 18+ only !!!!!

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, oral (female receiving), spankings, punishment, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, smut, vaginal intercourse.

Summery: Your life is bland and boring but not for long. What happens when you catch the eye of a certain super hero?

Your room has always reflected you as a person. In highschool you haphazardly filled the walls with quotes and posters. Your room was messy in the typical way teenagers rooms tend to be, but also like a typical teenager was filled with feeling and hope. In college you filled your space with pictures of you and your friends taken on a polaroid camera. Everywhere you looked had your life staring back at you. Now as an adult the pictures from college are tucked away in a box. Your room is simple and boring. Most people think of you as minimalist but you don’t do it to be trendy, you just have no passion. You’ve spent the years after graduating college working a job you hate in a lab, running the same tests over and over again. You’ve always wanted to be a scientist, working on something new and exciting. You’ve applied everywhere but you rarely even get an interview. Your dreams, unfortunately, will never happen for you. Sometimes you wish for someone to swoop in and take you for your bland life but you know that will never happen. Watching your friends get dream jobs and buy homes while you waste away has crushed your spirit. You’re tired.

---

“Hey Y/N, we’re going out tonight.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, you never come with us.”

“Ok sure.”

Your coworker is right that you never go out anymore and so several hours later you walk into a bar, grabbing a drink and finding your coworkers. The bar is bustling with activity and you lose track of time. You usually curl up in bed with a book on a friday night but you’re glad you came. You used to go out all the time in college and miss being social. Going out is good for your mental health and you decide to make more of a point to spend time with people.

You say goodbye to your still partying co-workers and head home a little past midnight. You start your walk and cut through an alleyway, wanting to get home before you vomit from the alcohol.

“Hey sweetheart. What are you doing all alone out here?”

A large man steps out of the shadows and walks toward you. You ignore him, keeping your eyes focused ahead and pick up the pace.

“Oi, I’m talkin’ to you,” He lunges forward and grabs your arm.

“Let me go.” You try to walk away but he holds onto you still, pushing you against the wall and landing a bruising kiss on your lips. His breath smells rancid and you feel bile rise in your throat. You cry out for help and the man is suddenly pulled away from you. You watch with disbelief as Spider man throws the stranger against the opposing wall.

“She said to go away buddy.”

The man slowly stands up and runs away. Spider Man shoots a web at the running stranger and he falls over, immobilized.

“You ok?” Spider Man turns to you, cocking his head.

“Yes, thank you Spider Man.”

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow”

You watch spider man pick up the stranger like he’s nothing and swing away. You walk the rest of the way home and lie in bed, unable to fall asleep. The next morning there’s a tap on your window and you look out to see Spider Man on your fire escape. You briefly wonder how he knows where you live but quickly brush off the thought and open your window.

“You sure you’re ok?” He steps towards you, looking you over.

“Just a little shaken up.”

He walks to your kitchen, filling a glass of water and handing it to you.

“This is too much, really I’m fine. You already saved me.”

“Drink the water,” He commands.

You sigh and drink it.

“That’s a good girl. Now get back to bed.”

You set the glass down and stare at the stranger you let in your home. Alarm bells start ringing.

“I’d like you to leave.”

“I’ll leave once I know you’re doing as you're told.”

Your heart beats rapidly and you take a step back.

“I appreciate that you saved me and came to make sure that I’m fine but I’m now asking you to please go.”

Spider man crosses his arms.

“I’ll call the cops” you say.

“And say what?”

“That there’s an intruder.”

Spider man sighs and walks to your window, standing at it.

“Get in bed and I’ll go.”

You walk to your bed and get under the covers.

“Good girl. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

As soon as he’s through the window you jump out of bed and lock every door and window, double checking your work. You get back in bed and let out a sigh of relief, finally able to sleep.

You wake up to tapping on your window. Spiderman is back. You make your way to the window but don’t open it.

“Let me in.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with you in here.”

Spider Man shakes his head and leaves without a word.

The next few weeks are filled with anxiety. You see flashes of red in your peripheral vision everywhere you go. Spider man is stalking you. You consider telling police but don’t think they’ll believe you. It sounds crazy, even to you. If it weren't for the bruises from the assault in the alleyway you would think you had imagined the whole thing. You stop leaving your apartment unless necessary and never go out after dark.

You get a voicemail one day.

“HI, this is Rebecca Johnson from Stark Industries. We’re looking for someone to fill a position in one of our labs. You had submitted an application previously and we wanted to reach out and see if you’d like to interview for the position. Please call back at your earliest convenience.

You squeal in delight, doing a celebratory fist pump. Stark industries is a dream job. You immediately hit redial and set up the interview. This would change everything. Just one year working at Stark would open up endless possibilities for you and that’s if you ever want to leave. You could afford a nicer apartment with more security. Maybe you will finally feel safe. You remind yourself that it’s just an interview and you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself.

---

You look up at the tower and take a deep breath. It’s intimidating, going for an interview at Stark tower. It’s been so long since you’ve interviewed anywhere let alone somewhere so big. You tug at your blouse, second guessing your outfit, maybe you should have worn something different. It’s too late to go back home and change. You walk in, mustering up all the courage you can and talk to the woman at the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview. Y/N Y/L/N”

“Oh yes, they’re expecting you. Here’s a temporary badge. Go to the 80th floor and take a seat.”

You take the badge and follow the instructions. You’re surprised to find yourself in what looks like private quarters. There’s a small couch near the elevator and you sit and wait.

Tony Stark himself appears in front of you and your mouth flies open. You stand quickly and hold your hand out.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tony looks you up and down, clicking his tongue.

“Likewise, follow.”

You half walk, half run behind him, getting in the elevator and taking it down a floor. You arrive at a state of the art lab and workshop and Tony leads you to a desk.

“The whole workshop will be open to you. This is your desk.”

He starts walking again and you keep following him back to the elevator and to another floor.

“Here’s where you’ll live. I’ll leave you with the contract and you can call my assistant if you have any questions.”

He hands you a tablet and walks out.

You look around the room dumbfounded. You thought you were just here for an interview. You guess this means you got the job. You swipe through the contract and your eyes widen at your salary. There are a few things that make you uncomfortable though. You’re required to live on site and there’s a curfew. You have to sign a NDA about anything you see in the tower. You also can’t decide to quit without permission, which you’re not sure is even legal. You call the number to Tony’s assistant.

“This is Rebecca.”

“Hi, this is Y/N. I’m looking through this contract and it says I have to live on site and there’s a curfew?”

“Yes. That is non negotiable. Living on site will give you access to the workshop 24/7. There will be times when you will work through the night. The curfew is for security as the tower is locked down every night.”

You would rather have your own place where you can come and go as you please but you’re willing to live here if you have to and the reason for a curfew makes sense. The tower has top of the line security, which is something that’s really important to you. You don’t usually go out late anyway and if you do decide to be out late you can crash at a friends house or get a hotel room.

“And the avengers? Will I have to work closely with them?”

“You might meet them or see them at some point but most likely not.”

“I know this sounds weird but I don’t want Spider man to know I’m working here.”

“Mums the word.”

“What exactly will the job entail? I see there’s a NDA.”

“You’ll be an assistant in Tony Stark's personal workshop and will work closely with him. He appreciates privacy.”

“I see, and the part where I’m not allowed to quit?”

“He just wants to make sure you’re serious. Tony picks his assistants personally and requires loyalty.”

“Ok, thank you.”

You hang up and sign the screen. When you open the door there's a man standing outside. He’s not a tall man, standing a few inches taller than you. However, he is muscular and something about him commands attention. You feel an immediate pull towards him.

“Oh, hi I’m Peter Parker.” He holds out his hand.

“I’m Y/N”

“I also work with Tony and live right next to you. I’ll be your direct boss.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Parker.”

“Peter is fine. I won’t keep you any longer, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You immediately get to work rearranging your life. By the end of the weekend you’re completely moved into your new place and on monday you start your first day on the job. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, full of state of the art technology and free reign to do whatever you want. You walk into work every day with a smile.

You work alone most of the time, Tony and Peter working awkward, sporadic hours but you enjoy it when you do get to work with them. Tony is funny and brilliant, you learn more from him than from any college class. Peter is smart and sweet. He helps you with your work and makes sure you’re always taken care of, sending you back to your room if you’ve been working too long or making you take breaks to eat. You find yourself starting to develop feelings for Peter and your heart swells when he asks you on a date. Life is good and only getting better.

You meet Peter outside of your door and he takes your hand. The two of you walk to a little italian restaurant and Peter takes your menu, ordering your food for you. It’s very forward for a first date but you like the confidence. After dinner he walks you back to your door and kisses you. You see something in his eyes when he pulls away, possessive and dark. It makes you feel uncomfortable but also excited. Nobody has ever looked at you like that.

Over the next few weeks Peter becomes more and more comfortable around you, becoming more physical. It’s small things, like pushing your hair back when talking or touching you gently as he walks past. He asks you out again, this time wanting to cook you dinner and you decline, suggesting a coffee date instead. You don’t feel comfortable enough with him to be alone in his room. He clenches his jaw when you tell him, obviously upset you won’t come over but agrees.

A few days later you decide to go out with some old friends and crash on one of their couches. When you get home the next day Peter is standing outside your door.

“You missed curfew.”

“I know, I went out with friends and crashed on one of their couches.”

Peter clenches his jaw.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

“It shouldn't matter if I want to stay the night somewhere else.”

“Well it does.”

You roll your eyes and unlock your door quickly, locking it behind you. The two of you have only been on one date. His behavior is a red flag and you decide to take things slowly.

The next day you decide to go out for coffee, pulling on a simple tee shirt dress and some flip flops. The elevator won’t let you down.

“Your privileges have been revoked.” Peter says from behind you.

You jump. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He stalks toward you, pushing you up against the elevator.

“I don’t feel comfortable with this Peter. You need to back away from me now.”

Peter takes a step back.

“I’m sorry but right now I don’t want any sort of relationship outside of work.”

“That’s not going to work for me.”

Something in Peter's eyes terrifies you. You need to get out of here. You try the elevator again but it still won’t open.

“I quit.” you yell at the elevator, feeling more danger every second you’re stuck in the hallway with Peter.

“You can’t quit baby.”

“There’s no way it’s legal to force me to keep working even if it’s in the contract.”

“There’s nowhere to go. You’re not getting out of this building and even if you did you’d have to find a lawyer to take your case.”

“You can’t do this, I'll tell Tony.”

“Who do you think suggested this in the first place? Most of the Avengers have gotten their partners this way. I was waiting for the right person and I knew you were them the moment I saw you.”

“Why would Tony help you trap me here? You’re just a lab assistant.”

“Oh no honey, I’m much more than that.”

He steps toward you, caging you in.

“You think it’s a coincidence I saved you in that alleyway?”

“Spider man?”

Peter gives a grin. He leans in and smells your hair.

“No.”

“I’m sorry it’s happening this way, I wanted to break you down slower. You’ll have a really good life, we’ll live together and work together. You’ll have everything you could need or want.”

“I want to leave.”

“You’ll change your mind, you just need a little motivation.”

Peter pulls you to his room and opens the door, pushing you into his apartment. You try to run but he easily catches you, picking you up and throwing you on his bed.

“Why are you doing this? Why me?” you scrabble to the far side of the bed.

“You’re mine.”

Peter's phone rings and he picks it up.

“Hey, yes I did... I know It wasn’t the plan, I had to improvise… Ok, see you in a few weeks.”

He hangs up and gets on top of you. you spit in his face.

“I’m not yours freak. Let me go.”

“You won’t be allowed to act like that moving forward. Now lie still.”

“Get off of me.”

Peter gets off briefly, flipping you over his lap and pulling up your skirt. He lands a smack on your bottom.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this. You’ve been so bad baby.

“Not letting me in your apartment.”

Smack.

“Telling Rebecca you didn’t want me to you started working here.”

Smack

“Staying out all night.”

Smack.

“Shutting the door in my face.”

Smack.

“I liked you Peter, If you had just acted like a normal person we could have continued a relationship.” You say through tears.

“I don’t want a relationship, I want to own you.”

He lands another blow on your bottom and grabs your underwear, pulling them down and off of you. You try to wiggle away but he’s so strong and easily holds you down with one arm. He moves his hand between your legs and towards your sex, pushing a finger in and out.

“You’re wet for me.” He says smugly.

You close your eyes and turn your head away. You’ve stopped resisting and he lets go.

“There you go.”

He kisses your neck and cheek then grabs your chin moving your face and kissing you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He pulls back and you hear him unbuttons his pants, pulling them down. You open your eyes and move away from him, pushing your back against the headboard. You watch as he holds his erection, slowly moving his hand up and down. He moves towards you and grabs your ankle, pulling you down the bed and positioning himself in between your legs. He holds onto your hips and kisses your inner thigh, moving toward your mound until his mouth is on your clit, kissing and licking. You arch your back and throw your head back, fighting against the rising orgasm. Right before you come he pulls back, smiling up at your dazed face. He rises up and slowly pushes his dick into you until you’re full. You whimper as he brings his hand down to your clit, stimulating it.

“That’s right baby,I know what you like.”

You can’t think about anything else anymore, only the orgasm that threatens to take over.

“Come Baby”

You reach out, grabbing his arms as you come. He grabs your shoulders and thrusts deep, filling you with cum before collapsing next to you, pulling you into the crook of his arm.

“Can I go back to my room now?” you ask.

“You won’t be leaving this room until I can trust you.”

“I won’t say anything. You won. You got what you wanted so just let me go.”

“You still don’t get it Y/N. You’re mine now. I know this is a hard adjustment but everything will be fine as long as you follow what I say.”

“And if I don’t obey you?”

“You’ll be punished.”

“Fuck you.”

Peter sits up next to you, grabbing his pants off the floor and pulling his belt out of the loops.

“I guess your first lesson starts now.”

---

You look around the room you live in. It’s no longer the empty minimalist space it was before you met Peter. Now it’s filled with him. Everywhere you look there are reminders of him. The shower has his body wash and razor. There are pictures of him hanging on the walls. Everything you own has been bought for you by Peter. He dictates what you’re allowed to wear, where you’re allowed to go, who can talk to. It’s all him. Every part of your life revolves around Peter to the point where you don’t know what you would do without him. You wake up to him, go to sleep to him, think about him constantly. You’re even sometimes woken up in the middle of the night to him touching you, wanting you. At some point you stop pretending you don’t want him back. You hate it but it’s true.

Your room has always been a reflection of you as a person.

[mizunetzu]

my request is flaaaaaacidddddd peeeeenisssss

Flaaaaaaaciddddd peeeenisssss

——————

Iida x reader - Iida Tenya’s Imaginary Boyfriend (True Ending)

⚠️warnings - good ending HAHAGQ

Pronouns - male, he/him

Part one can be found here!

Part two can be found here!

——————

He woke up in recovery girls office.

He wasn’t sure how he got here. All he remembered was his head feeling a bit faint walking back to the dorms, then waking up here. Looking out the windows, vast colors of orange and yellow flooded in between the cracks of the blinds, making colorful stripes paint his bed with light. He presumed it was around sunset.

The door clicked open. Recovery girl, Aizawa, and detective Tsukauchi walked through the door.

“Do you know where you are right now, Iida?” Aizawa was frank, as usual.

“I believe I am in recovery girls office, though I have no clue how I got here.”

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. “You were hit with a villains quirk about 2 days ago. You’ve been asleep ever since. It caused you to go in a nightmare-ish dream state until we caught them.”

Iida retrieved his glasses from the bedside table. It was then he realized he was in his pajamas. Aizawa stepped forward. “What’s your full name?”

“Iida Tenya.”

“How old are you and what school do you go to?”

“15 years old and I attend UA high school.”

Aizawa hummed. Nothing seemed to be wrong with his memory. “Do you know what day it is?”

“March 17...no, 19? Forgive me, it’s somewhere between there.”

“Iida,” Aizawa looked confused. It made Iida feel sort of uneasy aswell. Like getting a problem wrong and having your teacher be disappointed in you. “That’s almost a full month away. It’s February 3rd today.”

February 3rd. If Iida recalled correctly, that was around the day that everyone seemed to forget that (Y/n) existed. He checked his wrists out of habit. (Y/n’s) watch were gone. He was about to ask where it was, when the detective clicked his tongue.

“Well-thats to be expected,” Tsukauchi held up a case file, most likely a report on the criminal who used their quirk on Iida. “Time passes differently in the quirk-induced coma Iida-san was in. Some people affected by them claim it’s been years when it’s only been a couple of days. Truly terrifying.”

Recovery girl tutted. “All of his vitals seem to be in check. He should be able to return to the dorms now. Just have him take it easy for a couple days in training.”

“Mm. Make sure you make up your missed work,” Aizawa turned back, as Tsukauchi exited the office and recovery girl sat in her desk. “And tell your classmates you’re alright. Your friends were freaking out when you wouldn’t wake up in the morning. They should be in the dorms by now.”

Iida nodded.

———

Walking back to the dorms, there was one thing Iida couldn’t get off his mind.

He’s been in a ‘quirk-induced coma’ for 2 days. The passage of time is different with their quirk as to real life. And he could’ve sworn it was late March instead of early February.

So when did he fall asleep? And what was his ‘dream’ about?

He, at first, thought it was the result of walking home with his friends after seeing that sketch artist Kaitekina, but that doesn’t happen until almost a full month later. So, most of the things Iida remembers doing and learning in class has not happened yet.

And, nightmare? He remembers falling asleep and seeing (Y/n) in his dreams, but that doesn’t fall under ‘nightmare’ territory. Actually, it was rather pleasant.

“Oi! Iida’s awake!” He heard Kirishima yell, as he walked through the door. Most everyone was in the common room, and turned their heads. Each one of them erupted into a smile, saying things like “are you ok?” Or “glad to see you awake, Iida-san!”

He, unintentionally, tuned them all out.

What was his ‘nightmare?’ What made his dreams about a boy who doesn’t exist so bad? Was he waking up in his dream just to go to bed in that dream to dream another dream? What-

“-and (L/n) was so worried bro! I mean-he looked ok like usual but I guess he doesn’t really go out of his room unless you force him t-“

“I’m sorry, who?” Iida’s disbelieving voice sharply cut off Kaminari’s ramblings. He didn’t hear that correctly. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.

“...bro...” Looks of worry or confusion flooded the 1A students. Similar to when they looked at him like he was insane, asking for a non-existent student named (L/n) (Y/n).

Kaminari awkwardly chuckled. “(L/n)...? Your personal hype man? Dude who follows you around like a dog?”

“Kaminari-that was mean, he does not follow Iida around like a dog.”

“But he does!”

A playful argument rang out between Jirou and Kaminari. Everyone’s attention seemed to shift from Iida, to Jirou blasting her heartbeat into Kaminaris ears with her ear jacks.

“Iida-kun, are you okay..?” Midoryia brought Iida out of his trance. “Did you lose your memory or something while you were asleep?”

“No no I just-I probably misheard Kaminari-kun. Who was he talking about?” His voice was wavering. His desperation hidden behind the glare of his thick cut glasses and messy bed hair. He needed to comb his hair once he sorted things out.

“(L/n) (Y/n)-kun?” There it’s was again. “He sits next to you in class? You...oh! You two fought in the sports festival? And...yknow...the whole,” Midoryia stuck out his tongue making a mask with his hands and pretending to lick someone’s blood. “-thing?”

Everytime he asked who he fought in the sports festival, everyone including Midoryia would say “Hatsume-san, Ibara-san, and Todoroki-kun.” He never recalled fighting someone named “Ibara” from class 1B, having fought (Y/n) instead, but he grew to just accepting it.

And when he asked about the Stain incident, Todoroki and Midoryia would claim it was just them three fighting him. There was no one with (h/c) hair that helped Midoryia, him, and Todoroki out immensely. As far as Iida was concerned, (L/n) (Y/n) did not exist to the world.

So why was everyone talking like he was a real person?

“Iida, if you really don’t remember, you should go get that checked out by recovery girl...it’s pretty odd that you forgot about your own classma-“

The sudden startup of engines, followed by the whirring hiss of smoke trailing past him cut Midoryia off. Iida burned through the pants of his pajamas, but he didn’t care. He ran as fast as he could to the 4th floor of the boys side of the dorms.

His heart quickened with every step he took. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up, but the obvious look of desperation on Iida’s face seemed to lead his thoughts. He needed to see for himself.

Skidding to a halt infront of the supposedly empty dorm room, he once again halted when he reached for the doorknob. Everytime he’d check this room on impulse, he was always met with the empty, white walls and drawn curtains supplied by the school. He didn’t want to walk in and face white again.

And he didn’t.

Almost taking the door off the hinges, Iida practically shoved the door out of his way. A small gasp ripped its way through Iida’s throat.

A dimly lit room, one that was never kept clean, that had an oddly sweet smell coming from it. He saw the vaguely familiar (f/c) bedsheets, with the sea blue comforter thrown lazily on it, half slipping onto the ground. He saw the messily taped Ingenium posters, crooked and wonky, plastered on his studying table, which was almost never used for studying. When they studied together, it was usually on Iida’s bed or somewhere outside.

But finally, he saw the patio slider door opened, curtains fluttering in the mellow orange sunlight with someone standing outside. They were leaning on the balcony, with their arms stretching up, the reflection of their cheap red watch burning light into Iida’s eyes.

“(L/n)...kun...?” The name felt foreign on his lips. Even if he technically ‘saw him two days/one month ago’, it felt like years since he’s actually felt like he was in the same room as him. The boy, (Y/n), turned around.

Setting sunlight painted his face with warm colors, making the (h/c) shade of his hair burn brighter. The light also seemed to reflect off the (e/c) iris’ of (Y/n’s) face, making it look like it was glowing. It lit his face well enough to make him seem ethereal. Breathtaking. Real.

It was him. It was (Y/n).

“Morning, Tenya. How’s it feel to be asleep for two days?”

Iida didn’t answer. Instead, he walked tentatively towards the patio sliding entrance, his burnt pajama pants cinching his calves now that his adrenaline high was subsiding. He stopped a few inches way from (Y/n), reaching out and shakily touching his cheek.

Instead of fazing through him, or flat out fading, his hand made contact with warm, soft skin. (Y/n) hummed and nuzzled his cheek into his hand. Iida’s vision blurred involuntarily, despite him having his glasses on.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

His voice’s vibration, and the warm breath that fanned his chest was enough proof that he was here. Enough proof he was dragged down back to earth, no longer just a distant memory no one remembered.

Iida’s throat closed up, and he felt his knees go weak. He was a blurred mass of (h/c) and (skin/c), with the hint of red that protruded from his arm, but Iida knew he was still there. He was there, with him, and would be going on until forever.

A tender, hoarse chuckle escaped Iida. He leaned his cheek onto (Y/n’s) forehead, not caring that his face and bed hair was still messy and reeked of sleep. He smiled.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, (Y/n)-kun.”

——————

Haha. That was fun. Anyways-

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

PROMPT: Followup to How do you think Euryale would court the MC? #knifewifesquad

WARNINGS: Somewhat OOC 

characters Mentions of blood Crimes against fashion 

Unhealthy/Predatory Behaviors 

Reference to Greek Mythology 

Potential Spoilers for Routes 

Written by @evoedbd 

 *****************************************************************

Alisha’s answer was gorgeous. There was no other word that summed up everything that ran through her mind. Cute, delicate, fiery, marblesque… all fell under that uniquely gorgeous category. In a manner beyond human or Godly monster, or any Alisha had seen in her brief life.

The first thing to captivate her was unimaginably expressive eyes. Gems the colour of peach, dancing a fine line between pink and brown. Pale and captivating. Shock blew them wide, even as a weariness hardened them, and something void of sanity swum in their pale depths. There was something innocent about them, how large and clear they were perhaps, topped by a petite brow that seemed to carry the weight of the world and pale hair a shade between winter sunshine and summer dried grass. Hair with a short cut, wispy fringe and hanging in girlish pigtails tucked between delicate little ears… with little earrings shaped like a butcher’s knife from a murder scene, complete with photo realistic colour decal. The Alice in wonderland went batshit crazy theme continued with a lavender summers dress, ending just above delicate knees, leaving little black shoes suited to a child on display. Shoes bathed in blood; little bows knocked askew.

“Who are you?” The woman demanded; voice shrill. Soft looking lips, only half coated with a dappling of peach lipstick, peeled back from teeth. Sharp teeth. Teeth with the top canines extended almost like fangs, though evidently within the human vein of acceptable. An adorable, proud yet dainty nose turned upwards, thin nostrils flaring as if scenting the air for the next kill. So, it was becoming apparently clear Alice should never have left wonderland… but even on the rampage, her unique appearance still fell in gorgeous. Godly even. As if carved from the finest marble, then drizzled with a faint layer of gold so she gleamed in the light.

“That was a stupid question. I know who you are. What the hell were you thinking? Just barging in here like that! I could have turned you into… well, a museum piece! Do you know how many museum pieces my sisters have donated?”

Something about the way she spoke of museum pieces made Alisha feel entirely uneasy. As if these pieces could feel… but that would mean… oh. Oh no. Please no.

Alisha went to open her mouth, went to speak, only for an utterly confused squeak to escape. Enough to make her want to facepalm. She was usually calm and rational, heck she faced down Hercules on the daily, but some insane chick had her squeaking. How was that even a thing? Well, she had to be real. She had a real-life Godly Monster, someone so potent she had etched her name in history, in her living room. So, she had it down to one out of three to guess from, but what would happen if she got it wrong? She had to think carefully, try to piece everything together on the fly. A beauty carved of stone, who spoke of statues as if they were living beings, with sharpened teeth? A woman who had an unhealthy obsession with knives and inflicting pain on demigods… or anything really… anybody? Why was Alisha still looking into her eyes?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you a- you’re hurt.” She’d started carefully, tilting her gaze cautiously to avoid looking as intimidated as she was, only to notice the black patch against the woman’s ribcage. No matter who, no matter what she was, she was hurt. She was bleeding all over her own shoes. Over Alisha’s furniture. And she was kind of sweet, even with the psychotic side. This was a woman who’d left helpful messages and items to support Alisha through some tough times. It made sense now why the acts were humanly inappropriate. Could Alisha really hold cultural differences against an injured woman?

“No I’m not!” The woman’s snappiness made Alisha’s heart jump. Her insides lurched, every droplet of blood trying to relocate an inch to the left. Yet, somehow, she didn’t move a muscle. The HERA agent simply stood her ground, extending her hand as she pointed to the dark patch against the lavender.

“What’s that then?” Alisha demanded, watching the other woman lower her gaze. Peach eyes fixed on the wound for a split second, lips pursing in clear irritation. Something about it had Alisha thinking the irritation was more for the dress than the cut.

“It’s a flesh wound.”

… apparently Alisha was right.

“That’s still hurt!” Alisha finally snapped, her exasperation bursting through her human instinct to fear the godly.

“Are you calling me weak?” The woman’s sharp demand was accompanied by an earthquake worthy shift in her attitude. The peach in her eyes shrunk, the band of colour narrowing down to pinpoints even as her eyes blew wide. A crazed monster, matched by the rows of unnaturally sharp teeth, which she had bared in a wide mouthed snarl. Something Alisha couldn’t help but smile at. Granted, she probably should have been revaluating her strategy given there was also a giant leopard seal snarling from her couch, with teeth for days and murder in its lavender eyes, embraced by a halo of lavender that betrayed it was definitely this woman’s aura… but, of course, Alisha didn’t. The longer she stared at the flex of aura, for every breath of salt and brine she inhaled, she could feel an answering tide within her. It swelled in her chest, overcoming her entire being, washing away all possibility and competition until it was the only thing that could escape her.

“Euryale.” The name tasted so right. How a word could have taste, Alisha couldn’t begin to explain. Yet, the way it rolled across her tongue, how it made her lips caress the syllables… it was the tide, an ebb and flow, the rolling of waves in her mouth to which Alisha was helpless to resist. The ancient name held such wonder, such elegance, something delicate and something fierce. Of course this was Euryale. How could Alisha have ever thought otherwise? She lacked the force of Stheno, nor held the renowned grace of Medusa. Euryale was potent emotion. The myths of her cries crumbling stone played in the back of Alisha’s mind, for if she were stone, she truly doubted she could handle anguish in such a raw form. Not if Euryale expressed it like she expressed her irritation.

“You’re not weak, at all, but you are hurt. I don’t understand any of what is going on, why you’ve been leaving me messages, or why you’re hurt, but you are hurt. I need to help you. I’m not about to turn you over to H.E.R.A. If you’d wanted to hurt me, you wouldn’t have sent me all those nice things. You’d have already done it. For now, that’s enough for me to trust you. Can you now trust me?” Alisha’s words were spoken gently, as one might speak to a nervy colt. She could only watch as peach reclaimed white, swelling until there was barely white left. Those gorgeous eyes glistened, oceans beginning to trickle from them before everything withdrew. Then, the scent was only a memory. The seal as tangible as a dream one couldn’t quite remember after waking.

“You don’t know… was my intent not clear?” The Gorgon questioned, lower lip trembling as she pouted. Alisha could only shake her head.

“Charybdis and Prime told me that lines of courtship were still done in human society! They even had me spend hours memorising hundreds of atrocious lines that I might woo you properly! They said romantic notes held universal intent!” Euryale went from mopey to utterly infuriated within a blink, stamping her little black flats into the pool of blood and salt water. Alisha could only blink.

“You were… you were attempting to hit on me?”

“I spent days researching the languages of the finest poets under their guidance, only for you not to understand their complexity?” The Gorgon continued. Alisa could only bite her lip, struggling not to laugh.

“You… googled pickup lines?”

Euryale’s cheeks flushed.

“Prime told me that was how you wooed in this era!” Euryale whined, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. With every frustrated huff, her murderous little earrings jingled, making Alisha’s struggle to keep her composure that much harder.

“And stabbed them into my door? For weeks…”

“I read delivery should be given personal flare! Stheno said I should be direct!”

Well… she was direct alright.

“By stabbing my door… for weeks…” Alisha reiterated, voice lacking emotion. Aphrodite was going to have a field day with this. May was probably already planning friendfictons… Alisha could only facepalm.

“I had to research your patterns for months to establish an appropriate time schedule-”

“Are you confessing to stalking me? For months?” Alisha had to cut in. So, that explained some things, probably should have freaked her out too… but could she completely fault this adorable creature? Ok, so it was unquestionably out of line, something that Alisha would have to have some strong words with Euryale about, and Euryale was a poster child for sweet but psycho… but it was somehow charming too. Euryale looked very much like a teenager grumbling about a crush. All the social floundering, the sincere effort put into it. So, things were very lost in translation, but… it was kind of endearing watching an ancient godly monster try to act like a twenty-year-old.

“I was observing! I had to perfect the wedding gifts.”

“Wedding…?”

“The exchange of blades? A proposal? You accepted them… you didn’t know their meaning, did you?”

Again, Alisha could only shake her head. No. Nope. Absolutely no clue.

What followed was a tirade of ancient Greek, spoken so vehemently it could be nothing but the most enthusiastic of cussing fits. It was accompanied by little stamps and huffs, so reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum that Alisha was caught between cooing at the more twee aspects of the scenario or blushing at the few phrases she could roughly understand. She did neither. Before she could decide, Euryale’s foot came down that bit too hard in her previous mess, splattering little pink droplets across the floor. Her shoe slid through the puddle, sending the Gorgon sprawling onto the couch with the grace of a beached whale, and a terrified yelp that cut Alisha to the core. Before Euryale could stop it, a pitiful whine escaped her, degrading Alisha’s mind to one goal.

Comfort.

She sprang into action, reaching to press her hands tightly to the wound even as she broke into babbling.

“Hey, hey, hey! I am sure you’re really lovely, and would make a wonderful, erm, soulmate. But I haven’t really gotten to know you, and I really appreciate the knives, but I’m not ready for marriage… maybe we could start with something simple? Like coffee?” It was after her verbal outpouring that Alisha realised this was the first time she was touching Euryale.  Months of gifts and messages had finally led to this.  It should have been ground-breaking; Alisha had expected the moment to erode the mountains.  Expected her heart to seize in her chest… but everything was still.  The heat of blood and comfortable curve of Euryale’s body didn’t leave her brain melted.  Didn’t feel monumental the way she’d expected.  It was natural, just like the act of taking breath, as if she’d been born to do precisely this.

“Coffee?” The hopeful yet confused way Euryale muttered that had Alisha practically melting. How was this twee little psychopath so adorable?

“Yep. Maybe some dinners, or some movies? Oh, do you have a phone?”

“A… phone?”

“So we can call and text. I adore the gifts, but I can’t afford to keep replacing the door, not to mention if someone breaks in, I’m only human.”

“You’re Hera.” The Gorgon whispered, looking into Alisha’s eyes. Again, the peach had swallowed the white, brimming with such profound sorrow that Alisha couldn’t resist leaning closer to press her lips to the Gorgon’s forehead.

“I’m still only human… so, coffee?”

“Coffee.” Euryale agreed, lips pulling into a timid smile. Before either woman could process more, The Gorgon flinched, a hiss escaping between her teeth.

“And bandages?” Alisha suggested, earning some form of snort from Euryale to accompany the flush to her cheeks and the growing little smile.

“Bandages are good.”

In hindsight, Alisha probably should have asked what had happened, but she was far too lost in that gorgeous smile, in that beautiful moment of vulnerability, to do anything more than come to two very startling conclusions.

One - she was the biggest sapphic disaster to ever walk the earth.

Two - If Euyrale didn’t stop being so endearing, Alisha was absolutely fucked.

[typical-simplelove]

Part Two: Dragon Boats (T. Jost)

Part Two to Red Envelopes, Dragon Boats, and Mooncakes; a Tyson Jost fic.

Series Masterlist (please read the small note at the beginning of the Masterlist if you haven’t already)

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Summary: Tyson and Kayla spend the offseason in St. Albert when the Dragon Boat Festival occurs. The couple spend the day with Tyson’s family following Kayla’s family traditions. 

Author’s Note: Similar author’s note to the first part. You don’t have to read part one to understand part two, just an fyi! Again, I have linked pictures and websites about some of the things that are mentioned here. The Pinterest board linked above also has more photos about the holiday. Anyways, here’s part two! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you thought!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Again, no climax, really. However, warnings are scissors, being Chinese, Chinese holidays, eating meat, mentions of death.

Before the Dragon Boat Festival

During the Dragon Boat Festival, Kayla and Tyson would be back in St. Albert for the offseason. Because of this, Kayla would not be able to spend the cultural holiday with her parents. Knowing that Kayla was a bit bummed about this, Tyson took it upon himself to try to make this holiday similar to ones in the past. 

Tyson began researching about the holiday. While researching, he learned that people watch or participate in Dragon Boat racing and eat something called Sticky Rice. The symbolism of this holiday is to ward off evil spirits, any lurking diseases, and release any negativity. Tyson had no idea how to celebrate this holiday with Kayla and had no idea how her family celebrated. He decided to just ask Kayla and help her plan. 

“Hey Kayla,” Tyson asks during breakfast a few days before the Dragon Boat Festival. “How do you celebrate the Dragon Boat Festival? I know that’s the next holiday that is coming up that your family celebrates.”

Kayla was shocked that Tyson knew about this. “My family doesn’t do much for this holiday. We don’t watch dragon boat racing but my sister and I always used to make our own mini dragon boats out of construction paper. My mom, sister, and I also used to make sticky rice with my grandfather before he died.”

“What if we did that? What if you, me, Kacey, my mom, and grandparents all made sticky rice? You can teach us! It may not be the holiday you’re used to because you aren’t in Denver with family but you can celebrate with us!”

“If you want, yeah sure! I’ll ask my mom for the recipe and we can make them.”

“Great, I’m excited, babe.”

Despite Tyson only telling Kayla about the sticky rice, he thought he would surprise her with the materials to make dragon boats. Tyson was bouncing in his seat, super excited that he got to spend another holiday with you.

龍舟節 (long zhou jie) - Dragon Boat Festival - June 14, 2021

“Kacey, my mom, and grandparents are set to come at three. Will that be good?” Tyson asks with an amount of energy that no one should have at eight in the morning. 

“Yes, Tyson, don't worry. Everything will be fine.” Kayla responds barely awake.

“Is there anything you need to do to prep before they come?”

“All I need to do is soak the rice. And I marinated the chicken last night so we’re good.”

“Do you need to watch the rice soak?”

Kayla laughs. “No, all I have to do is put the rice in a bowl and then leave it there. I’ll probably do that at 2:45, that way we can be ready to start right away when they arrive.”

“So, then, if I bought something, we can do it before they come?”

“Sure! What is it?”

“I bought materials to make Dragon Boats. I didn’t know what to buy so I went on pinterest and found a site. I asked your sister and she said that the materials they suggested were good. I had to buy green, at least, I thought it was green. I, you know colorblind, so not sure if --”

Tyson is cut off when Kayla kisses him firmly on the lips. “Thank you so much, Tys. You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you!.”

“Anything for you Kayla. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tys.”

. . .

After Kayla and Tyson were both mostly awake (more like Kayla because Tyson was bouncing off the walls at 8), they got started on the dragon boats. 

“So, teach me. What do I do?”

“First, you have to make the green construction paper into a box to make it look like a box.”

Tyson just stares at Kayla, wishing that he didn’t take the plastic covering off of the paper so he could read the labels and know which was green. However, Kayla, knowing Tyson, handed the green paper to him so that Tyson wasn’t completely lost. Tyson was about to start but unsure how to put the paper into a box format. So, he decided to watch Kayla construct hers first. Once Kayla finished, she held it up and said a soft ‘ta da!’

Tyson was still ever confused. When Kayla went to grab a second piece of green paper, Tyson decided he would mimic her actions in real time. However, instead of Tyson’s looking like Kayla’s once finished, Tyson’s was all jagged and didn’t look anything like a boat.

When Kayla was about to start a third boat, Tyson said, “Wait! Before you start, can you do it slowly and explain each step very carefully and clearly so I can make one that looks like yours?”

Kayla chuckles and says, “Of course. All you had to do was ask.”

“Ready, Tys?” Tyson nods in response.

“First, fold one of the short sides about two and half inches in. Try to fold it into a straight line. Yeah, like that. Now, do it to the opposite side.” Kayla pauses, waiting for Tyson to give her a nod that she can continue.

“Now, you take the long sides and fold it in about two and a half inches so it looks something like this. Next step is cut along these lines and fold them in. Nope, like this. Yeah that. Tape the sides so that it doesn’t fall apart. Yeah, good. You now take your scissors and kind of cut in a curved line, like a half circle but only the outer line, to make the curves of a boat. After, we take the long ends and fold them against each other so that they are pointy.”

Kayla pauses allowing Tyson to catch up. She smiles softly when Tyson has his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in fierce concentration as he normally does. 

“Like this?” Tyson asks when finished.

“Yeah!” Kayla responds enthusiastically. “That’s it! And now, we use the gold sharpie and draw scales on the boat. It’s basically is just circles but not closing them. Stopping about seventy five percent of the way.”

Kayla and Tyson draw the scales in silence not wanting to distract the other. 

“What comes next?” Tyson asks, once he has finished his one and Kayla all three of hers.

“We add the dragon!”

“We have to make a dragon?” 

“No, normally my sister and I would print out pictures and we’d color them. In past years, Elizabeth would color in while Charlotte and I made the boats. I just printed out dragon heads that would match. Here they are. We can just glue them on.”

“Thank goodness. I don’t think that I would have been able to draw a dragon. Ever. At all. So, don’t ask me to.”

“Don’t worry, Tys. I know your artistic abilities. After we glue on the dragon head, we can make the oars with red construction paper and glue them one. Then, we’ll be done!”

Tyson finished putting his head and oars on the boat before Kayla because she made three and Tyson had one good functioning boat. 

“What do we do after we finish making the boats?”

“Normally, my sister and I would make a small pond or lake and tape the boats on there. I bought a blue poster board so we can use that.” 

Kayla and Tyson worked on their pond for the dragon boats and didn’t leave out a single detail. They made sure to add areas on the grass next to the pond for the spectators to watch the races. They used old wine corks and painted them red and orange to mimic the traditional drums.The couple worked long into the afternoon and only realized the time when Kayla’s alarm went off reminding her to soak the rice. 

Once Kayla returned to the table where the poster board sat, Tyson had added little goldfish into the pond.

“You know, Tys, I think that if there were goldfish in the pond, then they would be far away from the boats. Also, probably not visible to the human eye.”

“Whatever, Ms. Smarty-Pants Kayla. I like the goldfish. I vote to keep the goldfish in the pond.”

“Fine, but then, one of my boats gets to be in the lead when we glue them down.”

“You throw a hard bargain but fine, I agree.” Tyson says with a mischievous grin. Kayla knows that grin. She knows that Tyson is going to begin tickling her until she is begging for mercy. Tyson instantly gets up and begins tickling Kayla. This continues on and the only chance at a reprieve is when the doorbell rings signalling that Tyson’s family has arrived.

“I guess I have to stop tickling you, Kayla.”

“I guess so.” He doesn’t 

Tyson’s family decide to let themselves in and are shocked at what they see sitting on the kitchen counter. 

“What in the world is this?” Kacey asks.

“Kayla spends her Dragon Boat Festival holiday making sticky rice and dragon boats. So, that’s what we did.” Tyson responds.

“Let me guess, this subpar looking boat was Tyson’s?” Kacey asks. Tyson just sticks his tongue out at her and Tyson does the same. 

“Ok, you two, cut it out. We have some sticky rice to make, yeah?” Laura cuts in with a chuckle.

Kayla and Tyson move the pond onto the coffee table and clear all of the craft stuff away and put it into a closet to deal with later. 

“I already have the rice soaking so we can start with that. Before we mix everything, we have to cut the Chinese sausage, mushrooms, shallots, and garlic. We have to also saute the shallots, too. Let’s start with that and then we’ll go from there.” Kayla explains. 

Once the directions were clear, everyone was assigned with a task. Laura is going to cut the shallots and saute them. Kacey and Kayla are going to wash the mushrooms and cut the mushrooms and garlic. Tyson and his grandparents are going to cut the Chinese sausage. 

“So, Kayla, tell me. How long have you been making sticky rice?” Tyson’s grandmother asked.

“I grew up watching my mom, grandfather, and aunties make the rice. This holiday used to be my grandfather’s favorite. When I turned twelve, my mother finally allowed me and my sister, Charlotte, to help make it. We normally would be assigned with washing the mushrooms and cutting them. Sometimes we’d be allowed to help construct the rice into the lotus leaf. That only happened later into my teenage years.”

“Do you do this with your family often?” Laura asks.

“Yeah, we would do this every year. This holiday is the one where my grandfather would be in control of the kitchen. My grandmother, aunties, and parents would all be sitting working on wrapping these and my sister and I would huddle around my grandfather for just a peak. He would always tell us about the same stories each year from when he was a child. When I was in high school, my grandfather passed away and my grandmother became the head sticky rice maker in our family. When I was in college, my grandmother was diagnosed with Arthritis making it hard for her to do any of the cooking so my sister and I took on a bigger role of making the sticky rice with my mom and aunties while my grandmother watched.”

“Is this your first year not making this with them?” Kacey asks.

“It is, actually, yes.” Kayla responds glumly.

“Do you miss them?” Tyson asks, wishing he asked if you wanted to go home.

“I was at first but then you prompted me with the idea of making the sticky rice with all of you so I’m not anymore! My grandfather always used to tell me that sharing our traditions keeps them alive. So, I am doing what he always wanted me to do.” Kayla replies with a bit of pep in her voice.

“Care to share any of those stories, Kayla?” Laura asks. Kayla looks over at Tyson to get confirmation that she should share. Tyson nods prompting Kayla to continue.

“Sure! I can’t remember all of them but one of them that I remember him telling us was when my grandfather was five. This was the first year that he was allowed in the kitchen to observe the cooking with the elders. While he was watching, my grandfather watched one of his uncles put salt on the lotus leaves. Putting salt on the lotus leaves allows for a richer taste for the rice. I’ll get to why we don’t do that in a minute. My grandfather decided that the pinch of salt on the lotus leaves was not enough and he took it upon himself to add more salt. No one noticed. When the sticky rice was ready to eat, the rice was so salty that it was fed to the farm animals. My grandfather felt so bad that he confessed to putting more salt on the lotus leaves. His punishment was to have to clean the chicken pen. Every year after that, no one put salt on the lotus leaves and my grandfather never used salt for his sticky rice ever again. I actually don’t think he ever used salt again after that.” 

The story gains a laugh out of everyone. 

The rest of the prepping continues on with smaller conversations. Once finished and the rice is drained, everyone watches Kayla mix the rice and all the ingredients together.

“I am going to mix the shallots, mushrooms, sausage, and chicken with rice. I am also going to add oyster sauce, soy sauce, and sesame oil. Once I’ve done that, we can begin wrapping the rice in the lotus leaf.”

Once the rice is mixed, Kayla demonstrates to everyone how to wrap the lotus leaf around the rice.

“You put the leaf on the counter and take one cup of rice and put it in the middle. You just fold it so that the rice won’t come out and tie it with a piece of string. There isn’t any pattern to fold it. Once folded, it should look like this and then we’ll steam them and will have sticky rice!”  

“I remember when I was ten and my grandfather was teaching me how to do this.” Kayla begins. “He told me and my sister about the first time he wrapped rice in a lotus leaf. He always told the story and made sure to say that he watched this being made for almost eight years prior to being allowed to wrap them and doesn’t know why he did it. He would tell us that he took the kitchen scissors and began to cup up the leaf. He cut a circle so that the rice could sit on something. He then trimmed the lotus leaf into mini looking pieces of leaf and placed them on the pile of rice. He always compared it to someone making a scrapbook and gluing small pieces of ribbon onto the paper. Every year, he would make one of these. This was what the young cousins would do. They would place the cut up pieces on the lotus leaf. I probably have pictures somewhere of me and my sister making those when we were really young.”

“Did you want to make one?” Tyson asks.

“Yeah? Sure!” Kayla replies with enthusiasm. She goes into the drawer and pulls out a pair of kitchen scissors. Kayla and Tyson begin cutting up a piece of lotus leaf. Once the rice is placed on a circular piece of lotus paper, Tyson and Kayla begin adding the small miniature pieces. Their giggles and laughter can be heard throughout the kitchen, putting smiles on everyone’s face in the kitchen.

For the next hour, Tyson, Kayla, Kacey, Laura, and Tyson’s grandparents folded the sticky rice and lotus leaf to be ready to be steamed. Conversation flowed easily and Kayla couldn’t help but smile. She was able to share her culture and her upbringing with the man she loves and his family she absolutely adored. It couldn't be any better. 

After there was no more rice to be folded into the lotus leaf, Kayla put the rice wrapped in lotus leaf into the pot to steam for an hour and half. 

“What do you do while the sticky rice is steaming?” Tyson asks.

“Not much, normally my mom or grandmother would begin making the other parts for dinner but I just bought those frozen because I didn’t want to screw up making them for the first time. We can watch a movie or play a game, maybe?” Kayla responds. 

After a small debate, everyone decides to play a card game as Kayla will have to get up and check the water every twenty minutes to make sure that no lotus leaves came undone.

… 

After an hour and half and steaming the rest of dinner, everyone was able to sit down and eat. 

“This is the typical dim sum. Normally dim sum is eaten for lunch but on the Dragon Boat festival, my family eats dim sum at dinner. We have Ha Gow, Siu Mai, Cheong Fan, Lo Ba Go, Cha Siu Bao, and Chao Mian. Which are shrimp dumplings, open faced shrimp dumplings, beef wrapped in rice noodles, fried radish cake, steamed pork bun, and fried noodles, respectively. And, obviously the sticky rice we all labored to make!”

Kayla’s explanation was met with hungry looks and nods of approval of how tasty everything looked. 

“How did you eat the one with the cut up lotus leaf?” Tyson asks, confused.

“Normally, we would put that one aside and eat it the next day. When it’s cold, it is easier to pick the lotus leaf pieces off.” Kayla explains. 

When Kayla sat down, she was so happy that she was able to celebrate this holiday with loved ones, even if they were her boyfriend’s family. If things went according to plan, Kayla hoped that maybe they could make a tradition out of this.

Part Three will be posted on February 26, 2021

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Scythes And Stories Chapter 2 - The Shading Of The Sky

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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

The sun set over the magnificent castle, shining in opal whites, scarlet reds, and deep deep golds. The castle of Vesperum, capital of Solis. Crown jewel of the world, supposedly. Rich, vibrant, and full of life, where everyone’s needs are cared for. All of this was said, but not all of it could possibly be true, Princess Ariadne thought melancholically as she sat in her bedroom. “If Solis is as perfect as everyone in the castle seems to claim, then why do I see so much suffering, not even including my own. I see the poor crying and desperate for sustenance. All of this, while the rich and ignorant fill their bellies with decadent meals and recline on satin chaises. I see the beautiful landscape razed to create room for the invasive spread of buildings our city’s population requires, while the buildings already standing are falling. And, I suppose, I do see my own pain.” Ariadne thought. “I sit here, day after day, trussed and dressed up and presented like a prize peacock. I’m nearly 18 and I have yet to do one thing of value my entire life. I cry out to do something, anything, but my life is one of silk, and just as flimsy and gaudy as such.”

“Miss Ariadne?” echoed a call from just outside the door. It was Rose, Ariadne’s nursemaid since birth, who had since changed into Ariadne’s only constant source of support, comfort, and a shoulder to cry on. Stifling her exhaustion, Anna stood and swung open the fine oak door of her bedroom. The rest of Ariadne’s room was just as opulent as the door. A fine four poster bed, piled with velvety pillows. A wardrobe full of the finest clothes. A rub from Stellae, the finest producers of textile products in the world. “Why do you look so troubled Ariadne?” Rose asked, settling into the comfortable armchair by the window to catch a brief respite. “Have your parents done something again?” Ariadne’s mother and father’s faces briefly flashed before her eyes. Her father’s stern gaze and neatly trimmed beard, mouth shouting she was a disappointment. Her mother’s amber eyes, those same ones now in Ariadne’s own head, sad and woeful. These visages dissipated quickly, but not before Ariadne’s throat closed. “Oh, you must not have heard yet. Not surprising, it’s a very recent development.” Ariadne choked out, close to breaking. Rose stood and drew Ariadne into a hug. “What happened, Ria?” Rose asked, using the nickname few had ever used. Ariadne lifted her head and stared out the window, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“I’ve been engaged to Commander Charles.” she whispered, tears brimming on her eyelashes, hovering, and cascading down.

Mouth open wide in horror, Rose gasped. “Your parents cannot be serious? You’re not even 18 yet, how are they even considering this? And Commander Charles is… a qualified but questioning option.”

“I believe their chosen words were ‘You will never amount to anything without a man and large coffers.’”

“That is ridiculous. You are strong and could easily make your own way…” Rose trailed off, realizing quickly the problem. Ariadne’s parents did not know Ariadne had been training with a variety of weapons since a young age. They did not know she spoke several languages and loved to read, and was a master of poisons. They didn’t know she had taught herself, had not cared enough to pay attention. And they especially did not know Ariadne had no intention of marrying a man ever in her life.

“I am so sorry my Ria. I am so, so unbelievably sorry. If there was any movement I could do to stop this, I would. But-”

“I know, Rose. It’s ok. I am barely in a position to help myself. I guess this is my fate, isn’t it? Everybody has to deal with things they dislike in life, and this is my lot. However, this doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Miss Ariadne, sometimes I believe you are too wise and nihilistic for your young age.”

“I sometimes think that too. But what can I do about it? If my parents will not hear or see me, I’ll be loud and brash and sad in my own head.”

A half hour and several nostalgic conversations later, Ariadne was curled up under her covers, staring out the window. The sky was sprinkled generously with stars, glowing white against the black and indigo shading of the sky. A soft breeze drifted in, smelling of the ocean. Ariadne was supposed to draw her curtains and shut her window at night, but she refused. “I will not be cut off from the outside world any more than I already am.” she told Rose before freeing her for the night. Now, she found herself unable to find peace within her own head, instead allowing the thoughts she never allowed in daylight to surface. “Somewhere out there, there must be a chance. A chance for me to love who I do, and be content in it. A chance where I don’t have to marry a commander who is a war criminal and a menace to people less fortunate than him, stealing and taking what little they do have. A chance for me to be, for once in my lifetime, happy.” Ariadne drifted off soon after, into a restless sleep filled with dark shadows, gleaming scythes, and ancient storybooks.

Ariadne startled awake in the dark of the night, eyes searching for the source of the disturbance. It didn’t take long. There was a lithe figure on her windowsill, silhouetted in the light of the stars and moon. The two stared at each other for a moment that hung suspended in time. And then, the figure moved. Ariadne scrambled backward and off her bed, thumping onto the rug and attempting to run for the door. She made it a few feet before the figure caught her. Wheeling around, Ariadne grabbed her hidden dagger from under her nightgown and brandished it. “Get back.” she snarled, not allowing fear to lace her voice. “Well well.” a voice emerged from under the hood, smooth and confident. “Who would’ve known. The little Princess knows how to use a dagger.”

“Don’t call me Princess.” Ariadne sniped back, not yielding an inch.

“I think I will continue to.” the figure said, a smile in their voice.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” Ariadne asked, swallowing hard.

“That’s a fascinating question.” the figure replied. “Why don’t I let you answer.”

It was at this moment the figure threw back their hood. Revealing a face Ariadne would’ve never, ever expected to see. It was a woman, no a girl. She couldn’t be much older than Ariadne. A beautiful, stunning girl with raven black hair and eyes as piercing and as blue as ice. Ariadne froze in that moment, dagger still clutched in hand. The woman strode closer and stopped just in front of Ariadne. Heart pumping suddenly very fast, Ariadne raised her gaze to the woman. “You didn’t answer my question.” she gritted out, trying to calm her racing head and heart.

“That is quite true, I didn’t. Which is exactly why things are about to get so very interesting.”

[rohad93]

Sea Glass: Ch 6

18+

Sunlight was shining in through the open window and right onto Yellow’s face, and she groaned lowly in her throat as her body slowly tried to move into some form of consciousness against her will. She turned her head to bury it in the blankets.

She felt like she was made of iron. Even her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. She might have ignored the harsh light and let exhaustion sink her back into unconsciousness had it not been for the low sound at her back coming to the forefront of her attention all of a sudden 

A low grunting noise at slow intervals.

 She still hadn’t opened her eyes but her brows furrowed, listening carefully to the new sound when she realized what it was.

Snoring.

Blue was laying behind her snoring, her back shoved flush against Yellow’s, and as her body came back to life she realized her arm was pinned back between their bodies at an uncomfortable angle. As she tried to move it she came to a conclusion.

She was ready to cut off her arm now.

She managed to wiggle the limb out with a grunt of effort, the whole thing felt like a dead weight attached to her shoulder, totally unfeeling and the chain didn’t help that at all. She moved her face out of the foul-smelling blankets and groaned, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the bright light. Her right arm was dead from the hours of constant rowing and her left was just as dead from hours of being in the awkward position at her back all night.

She was off to a great start this morning. 

She started to push herself up only for both arms to collapse like wet seaweed, sending her face down back to the bed. She growled to herself and the snoring beside her faltered. 

“Hugh… wha-?” Blue grumbled, voice thick with sleep. “What’s goin’ on?” She blinked, trying to cast away the lingering drowsiness, as she rolled over onto her back, wincing as she did. “Ugh, my arms…,” she hissed.

“Tell me about it…,” Yellow grumbled as she tried again to push herself up, this time with more success, the utter deadness in her limbs starting to fade away only for pain to replace the numbness.

“Ok, just chop it off…,” she heard Blue mumble to herself as she sat up in bed and rubbed her left shoulder tenderly. It would fade, but for now, the pain was electric every time she moved her arm. 

That was not going to work another night, that was for certain. 

The cuff was starting to chafe around her wrist too, she could see the red and raw turning skin where it would scrape when she moved and she frowned. 

They needed to get this off.

Something to work on today.

“What time is it?” Blue grumbled, squinting up at her with one cerulean eye cracked open against the bright glare of the sun shining into her room.

“Time for us to get moving.” Yellow yawned, running a hand through her hair lazily once she could somewhat feel it again and it still took an enormous effort. “We need to get to the mainland.”

“We have to get back in the rowboat…,” Blue’s pitched whine filled her ears and Yellow frowned

“We’re not getting back in the rowboat,” she grumbled starting to climb over Blue when her tired arms gave out again and she flopped back down right on top of the other captain who squealed in surprise as Yellow’s body weight flopped on top of her, bringing them nose to nose.

They stared back at each other for no more than a few seconds before Blue wheezed.

“You’re heavy...”

 Yellow scrambled to push herself off, mumbling an apology under her breath as she did. 

The awkward atmosphere hung in the air as Blue got her breath back, looking at the back of Yellow’s ruffled bed head and couldn’ help but think that it wasn’t the worst look on the blonde. The chain prevented her from going anywhere as long as Blue was still laying in bed, so she sat on the side, not looking at Blue. 

“If not the rowboat, how are we going to get to the mainland?” she asked, sitting up and running a hand through her long bedraggled hair.

“It’s only twenty miles off the coast, ships run back and forth between the two all day, it shouldn’t be hard to get on a ship,” Yellow grunted, pushing herself to stand as Blue scooted herself to the side. 

“We need to get out of here, the longer we stay in town the greater chances someone is going to recognize us.” 

“You do have that kind of face…,” Blue mumbled, pushing herself out of the bed and stretching, arms pulling up over her head languidly.

Yellow held her arm up to allow for the movement even as she frowned at the statement, but she was too hungry and tired to for once to rise to whatever bait Blue was tossing out.

“Let’s just get something to eat and head for the shore.” 

They wrapped the excess chain around their arms and Yellow, reluctantly, twined her fingers between Blue’s. If they didn’t, standing only hardly an inch apart would look more than a little suspicious.

“Let’s go…” She pulled them along out of the room and down the stairs. 

There were a handful of people milling around in the tavern below but they ignored them, moving quickly outside. The bright and sunny day seemed to have brought the entire town out as crowds of people moved every which way up and down the street.  

This was actually better for them, they could more easily blend into a large crowd than they could a sparse one.

That, and it would be even easier for Yellow to acquire a few things they might need in a crowd, not that she had any problem when they weren't in one.

They moved around town silently, Blue following Yellow as she pulled them along seemingly aimlessly up and down the streets and back alleys of town. 

“Okay, where are we going?” Blue finally asked after an hour of this meandering. Yellow glances at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Getting provisions…,” Yellow says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“We haven’t done anything…” Blue frowned. To this Yellow only pulled a handful of gold and silver pieces out of her pocket, looking at Blue knowingly before dropping them back into her coat.

“Seriously, how do you do that?” she leaned in and whispered with a certain kind of awe that Yellow couldn’t help but grin at before digging into her pocket again and pulling out a small silver ring.

The one Blue had paid with the night before. 

“Okay, I’m starting to think you’re actually quite useful to have around…,” she admitted, accepting the ring and sliding it back on her finger as she looked up at Yellow from beneath her lashes. 

“So glad to be of use…” Yellow rolled her eyes and Blue grinned at her. “We need to buy some provisions,” she mumbled, looking away from that smile and pulling Blue along behind her back toward the market where they got breakfast and paid for a sack of dried meats, hardtack, and several bottles of rum, that Yellow slung over her left shoulder, Blue seemed to be the happiest about the rum. 

“That porridge was vile…,” Yellow grumbled as they walked down the cobblestone path that led down to the docks.

“It was okay.” Blue shrugged. Yellow looked at her incredulously and Blue chuckled. “You’ve never had my sister’s cooking,” she explained. 

“Nor do I think I ever want to,” she mumbled and Blue only laughed till something caught her attention. 

“Well, I recognize that sour mug.” She grinned, pointing to a wall at the entrance to an alley.

A wanted poster was stuck to the stone and sure enough, a remarkable likeness of Yellow stared back at them from beneath the large blocky letters that read ‘Reward: Marigold Faust Wanted Dead or Alive for acts of Piracy”

They walked over to better inspect the poster, Yellow glared at it.

“Oh, three hundred gold pieces, aren’t you special.” Blue teased, that grin never leaving her face as she elbowed Yellow, who scowled. “Don’t look so sour, it’s a remarkable likeness,” Blue laughed, pointing to the poster “They even got your scar…” 

“These weren’t here yesterday!” Yellow finally snapped and Blue blinked, looking up at her before looking back to the poster.

“It’s only been a handful of hours, we probably just missed them last night.” Blue shrugged but started to glance around.

Yellow looked around and saw several others, not just hers, but one’s for Blue as well.

“No… we wouldn’t have missed all of these…” 

She turned to look and saw the other posters pasted to the walls.         

“Let’s just get to the docks and find a ship…,” Blue mumbled, pulling the poster down and golding it up into a small square. 

She had only taken a couple of steps when she was jerked backward by the arm, flung into Yellow’s chest. Arms wrapped around her and dragged her back into the alley, pulling them both into the shadows, back against the wall of one of the buildings.

She quickly shook off the shock and glared up at Yellow.

“What are you…?” 

“Quiet, don’t move,” she hissed, arms tightening around Blue, who immediately picked up on the alarm in her voice and the rigidness in her frame.

She stilled, and sure enough as soon as she did, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the dark blue and gold uniforms of the two royal navy sailors walking down the cobblestone road past the alley with muskets leaning against their shoulders. Blue clutched the fabric of Yellow’s black and gold coat between her fingers, not even daring to breathe until the two had passed out of her line of view and by the stillness of the chest she was leaning against, Yellow also was holding her breath, fingers digging into Blue’s hips. 

She mentally cursed as she saw one of the two turn his head to look into the alley and take a half step toward them.

With the damn posters, Yellow was as good as caught if they saw her, and by extension herself. 

Thinking fast, she reached up and grabbed the blonde’s face and yanked her down, covering her mouth, and thus her face, with her own. Amber eyes blew wide as Blue kissed her, and her left hand threaded through her hair, using the wide sleeve of her shirt to cover as much of the bright locks as she could. 

Twisting her head elicited a low moan from Yellow and she heard the approaching sailor grumble something before his footsteps faded away from them. She waited another moment before releasing her lip lock on the taller pirate with an audibly wet pop. 

“They’re gone…” she panted, seeing the road empty. 

She turned back to Yellow who was looking at her with wide eyes before the shock faded and she was pursing her lips into a familiar scowl.

“How many times do you intend to kiss me?” she snapped, making Blue jerk back before she frowned, leaning forward to poke a finger in Yellow’s chest.

“Let’s be clear, I wasn’t the only one doing the kissing at the tavern, and that just now was to save our damn asses!” She emphasized each word with a poke of her finger. “With those posters out there, if they had seen you, both of us would be heading for a long fall from a short rope. I told you to do something about this!” She flung up her hand at all of Yellow who scowled at that, closing her eyes and trying to reel in her temper, mouth still tingling and stomach knotted up in a way she was insistent to ignore. She didn’t open her eyes again until the flaring heat in her veins had died down.

When she did Blue was looking up at her, left hand planted on her hip and right dangling at her side, the chain hanging between them and she sighed.  

“We need to get out of here quickly…” Yellow’s voice was a low rumble as they moved.

They peaked out of the alley to find the road empty.

They quickly made their way down to the docks and could see the large royal navy galleon pulled into port at the far side of the docks. 

“Let’s make this quick,” Yellow mumbled as the move down to the ships, where several crews seemed to be getting ready to cast off.

A young man in a red captain’s coat was watching some deckhands load up some crates when they approached him.

“Just let me take care of this…,” Blue mumbled grumpily under her breath as they walked up to him. Yellow frowned at that. She had a good idea of what Blue was going to do.

“Are you the captain of this fine vessel?’ Blue asked sweetly, her annoyed tone from before gone in an instant, and the man, more boy almost, looked up and puffed his chest out proudly.

“Aye. The Serpent.” He looked fondly at the ship.

“Oh, and where is the Serpent headed?” She asked with sweetly fake interest. 

“Just some delivery’s to the mainland. Nothing exciting.” He shrugged. 

“Perhaps a gallant captain like yourself could help my friend and me then. We’ve been stuck on the island for a week now after some errant winds sank our vessel, no one can take us to the mainland.”

Yellow couldn’t see Blue’s face but she knew the blue-eyed captain was making that seductive face she was so famous for.

“Oh… I don’t usually allow passengers…,” he hedged.

“We’re at your mercy.” Blue reached out to grab his shoulder and his face flushed.

“A-aye, I’ll take you ashore.” He nodded and Blue smiled brightly.

“Thank you… so much.” There was a certain lilt to her voice as she said this before she moved past the captain and up the gangplank to board, Yellow right at her back, a scowl on her face.

“Ta-da” Blue grinned at her as they settled into a small corner away from the crew. Yellow grunted in response, not looking at Blue.

“What’s got you all sour now?” Blue frowned, nudging her with her shoulder as they settled onto the ground with their things.

“Nothing…,” she grumbled, turning away. 

“Tch, fine,” Blue huffed, leaning against the wall, turned away from Yellow, who sat frowning.

There was a burning, bubbling in her gut ever since they had approached the boy of a captain. Blue’s flirty tone had riled something up in her and she did her best to shove the sizzling anger and agitation back down, though she did a poor job, she would admit. 

Within the hour the anchor pulled up and they were heading for the mainland. The gentle rocking of the ship did wonders to soothe Yellow’s frazzled nerves. They had a good three hours before they made landfall. 

She wondered where her ship and crew were at this moment. No doubt Jasper had taken command of the ship.

She was a good sailor, but very one-track minded when it mattered. The rest of the crew would rebel before they followed her for very long. 

She snorted at that.

“What are you laughing at?” Blue looked at her, the first words they’d spoken to each other in an hour. 

“I’m just wondering where my ship is and how the crew is fairing.”

“Knowing your crew, they probably all killed each other by now,” Blue snorted and Yellow couldn’t help but smirk, it was a greater possibility then she’d like to admit. 

They were a rough bunch she’s picked up from all over, but they were the best at what they did, and when she forced them to cooperate The Cluster ran practically by itself. 

She didn’t like to brag, but there was no one on her ship who was a better shot, duelist, sailor or navigator and they all knew it, which was why they did what she told them too, without her there they would have no clear leader, and they could fight amongst each other at the best of times.

“It’s possible,” she admitted with a bob of her head. “

“I’m worried about my sister…,” Blue admitted after a moment of silence. “I know the crew will take care of her, they adore her, but she’s really not fit to captain…”

“She’s your first mate…,” Yellow made a face as she turned to look at Blue. .

“And she’s mighty good at relaying my orders and making sure they get carried out the way I want, but she’s never been good at making the orders,” Blue explained, leaning back and rolling her eyes. “She’s tender at heart.” 

“A tender-hearted pirate…,” Yellow scoffed. 

“You scoff, yet you’re quite well known for letting women and children go free when you commandeer a ship,” Blue challenged.  

“What’s there to be gained in the slaughter of children?” Yellow grunted, not looking at her.

“True enough, but it never stopped other seadogs.” 

“Well, I’m not them...” Yellow glared at the deck in front of her.

“You’re right about that.” Blue agreed with a knowing little smirk. A long minute passed. “I need to get back to her soon… I’m all she has.” The smirk faded and she bit her bottom lip anxiously. 

“Orphans too?” Yellow rolled her head to regard Blue through half-lidded eyes, the rocking of the ship was lulling her into sleep. Its familiar comfortableness had that effect on her. 

“By choice.” Blue’s voice took on a certain hardness that made Yellow’s eyes narrow as she looked at the other woman’s profile. Her mouth was pulled into a tight line and her eyes were staring out at nothing. 

What did that mean?

Blue offered nothing else as way of explanation and Yellow just hummed. Letting her eyes droop closed as she listened to the crashing of the waves against the ship and the cawing of the gulls flying overhead. Damn, she was tired. 

“Spose’ we should get you back to her then,” she mumbled, letting herself drift off to sleep, not catching the blue eyes now locked onto her.

[bestfrownsforever]

Frown of Doom: Chapter 3

(Cover art by @usf2020​)

The fortress doors opened and Master Frown flew in as fast as his body could carry him.  He yelled as he slammed his fist into his desk, almost crashing into it.

“THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!” he shouted, “WHY IS SO HARD TO KILL THOSE TWO IDIOTS!?  I’M SUPPOSED TO BE STRONGER THAN THEM!  THAN THIS!”

“Well technically they’re not idiots,” Brock said, walking in from behind, “Hawkodile’s been fighting since like, forever, and Dr. Fox is really really smart.  Plus she’s got hundreds of inventions, so…”

“Brock, what are you doing?” Master Frown asked as he turned around, “I thought I told you to watch Unikitty!”  “Oh,” Brock nervously said, “you did, buuut I heard you come in, so I-“

“And what’s with that key in your hand?” Master Frown raised his voice as he walked closer to Brock until they were inches apart and Brock started to sweat.

(Arty by @friffinx​)

“Oh I…uhh…”

“Brock, this doesn’t have to do with Unikitty, does it?”

“No, it uhh…I just, uh…” Brock stammered, sweating even more.

“TELL ME OR I’LL MAKE YOU SAY IT!” the Doom Lord commanded as his eyes burned brighter and he held his hand to the side of his head.

“OK OK FINE,” Brock confessed, “it’s the key to Unikitty’s cage!  We came up with a plan to bring you back to the kingdom so we could…you know, help you.”

“Of course you did,” Master Frown groaned, his eyes getting dimmer with disappointment until they glowed brighter again with his wide grin, “But now I’ve got an even better idea!”  “Oh no,” Brock whispered as Master Frown giggled.  “Oh yes,” Master Frown said, raising an arm out in front of Brock, “If Unikitty still thinks that talking and some dumb science magic will fix everything, then I’ll just have to give her a reality check!”  Brock shut his eyes tightly with pain, struggling to keep himself together.  “And you’re gonna help me whether you like it or not.”

Brock’s eyes opened with red light back shining in them again.

“My apologies,” Possessed Brock calmly said, “I’m ready when you are.”  “Good,” Master Frown said, “now come on!”  He began excitedly making his way to the conference room with Possessed Brock following him.

                                                     : ~~~ :

Hawkodile had been sitting on the same foyer room couch for hours.  More than anything, he wanted to get off his numb tail end and stretch his legs beyond kicking them up and flexing them.  But though he hated admitting it, Rick was right: he had to stay seated until he was in a better condition.  But by nightfall, Hawkodile was feeling a little better; though his arm still hurt, Richard cleaned, disinfected, bandaged, and even sewn it up surprisingly well.  Still, as Hawkodile held his arm and waited for his blocky friend to return again, he kept worrying about Dr. Fox.  He thought about her the most since she ran off, and she still hadn’t come back from the lab.

“I’m back,” Richard announced from afar, carrying casting tape and more bandages to wrap around Hawkodile’s injured arm.

“This should keep you from trying to use your arm while it recovers,” he said, busily making the cast, “I know it won’t help you recover any faster but this is the best I can do until Dr. Fox comes back.”

“Look, Rick,” Hawkodile said, “you’ve already helped out a lot.  If you think about I should be-“

“No,” Richard nearly yelled, “you won’t be fine, so stop saying that you are or you will be!  How many times do I need to tell you that you can’t jump back into a fight with an arm ready to fall apart!?  You still need time to recover!”

“Well yeah,” Hawkodile almost laughed, “I was gonna say that I should be ok enough to see Dr. Fox.  After, you know, everything that happened, I just hope she’s doing ok down there.”

(Art by @arekusatheamazingx​)

“I can understand where you’re coming from,” Richard said, “but really?  I’m sure that if she’s working on anything at the moment, it’ll take a lot of time considering how the fight affected her.  She’s undoubtedly struggling and under a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah, me too!”

Richard floated back an inch as Hawkodile continued.

“That’s why I want to talk to her!  And hey, since plan A didn’t work, maybe we can try something different to save Unikitty.”

Hawkodile’s nervous, wide smile and shrugging shoulders seemed like enough to not convince Richard, but Rick knew that they were running out of options that’d work fast enough to at least see Unikitty again.

“Well possibly,” Richard admitted and helped Hawkodile stand up.

“Alright,” he said as he led Hawkodile to the lab, “let’s just hope it’s good enough.”

                                                               : ~~~ :

Unikitty kept her restless eyes on the conference room doors, and when they opened she gasped with joy, ready to cheerfully ask Brock about the key.  But when she saw that Brock’s eyes were red and Master Frown came in after him with eyes just as red and spinning the keys around his hand with his magic, she gasped far less excited.

“Awww,” Master Frown mocked her, “you thought you could make your way out of this easy-peasy, huh?  Well not this time, you sushiney little slob!  And you know why?  Because you’re in my NEW world now, and you’re never leaving it!”

Master Frown unlocked the cage and Unikitty prepared to zip out, but he grabbed her tail; first with his red aura and then his hands.

“A-a-aah,” he teased Unikitty as he dragged her midair to the closet, “nope!  You’re staying right here, ‘Princess’!”  He threw her into the conference room closet, slamming the door shut and locking her inside.

Unikitty looked around the dark, damp closet.  She started thinking that when Master Frown said he became bigger and stronger, he meant it, but still tried to stay positive.  What could really be worse than killing the other Doom Lords anyway?

The first thing that caught her eyes was a projector.  She stepped closer, noticing that there was film inside.  She wasn’t sure if she should play it but asked about it anyway, to which Master Frown yelled “YES”.  So she started up the projector and watched the film begin.  It was a piece of found footage.

“Who does Master Frown think he is?” the person filming said, “Master Doom didn’t deserve it!  No one did!”

Master Papercuts was hiding in an alleyway.

“What's he doing,” the hollow-eyed Doom Lord said, “going around all proud of killing people for doing our jobs better than him?  Ok, sure, when I first walked in I freaked out seeing them all dead and ran out before he could catch me.  Does that mean I’m gonna run away some more and let them die in vain?  Nope nope nope nope nope nope NOPE!  Because I’m better than him!  I’ll avenge them and become the real best Doom Lord ever!  A new wave of really really bad papercuts is beginning, and there’s nothing, I repeat NOTHING that can stop me from-“

“No witnesses,” Master Frown said, suddenly sliding in behind his co-worker with the same axe he killed the others with.

(Art by @x-master-brock-x​)

The screen turned to static and Unikitty gulped in fear, trying to distract herself from the fact that Master Frown would take down any opposition for sure.  But then she found Master Papercuts’s hat hanging from the ceiling on a string right in front of her, screamed, and as she backed away, tripped over a gun on the floor.  Though hesitant, she picked it up along with the flashlight next to it.  It was a blaster roughly the size of her arm with a small note taped across the grip.  Unikitty turned the flashlight on with one paw to read the small writing:

“I’ve been on the run for two days now.  Reporting a murder should’ve been easier, but every police station in this dreaded town is the same.  Turns out I ‘don’t have evidence’ or a ‘good enough alibis’.  What part of ‘My brother got killed by a maniac and now the guy’s after me because I was a witness and want to keep our home safe’ don’t you understand???  But I can’t keep this up anymore.  I’m too tired, weak, and hungry, so unless I can find an officer that gets stuff done “

The delicate writing stopped, and Master Frown’s sloppy handwriting invaded the rest of the note.

“U’LL DIE TRYING, HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Unikitty got goosebumps.  “This is fake, right?” she insecurely asked.

“Flip it over,” Master Frown yelled from outside.

Unikitty sorrowfully gasped as she did.  Snippets of two “Missing" posters were also taped to the grip.  Both victims’ posters were cut in half, one half each taped together to make what looked like an amateur craft project with the face and names sloppily scribbled out in black and red.

“YEESH, WHAT ELSE IS IN THE CLOSET!?” Unikitty cried, stomping on the ground out of fear.  Se heard something small and metallic fall off a shelf from behind her as a result and turned around.  Lying in the shadows was a pen, and as she picked it up, she paid attention to the buttons on the side: play, pause, rewind, fast fowrd, and a red recording button.  Though more terrified and wondering why someone would make a pen that could record things, she gulped and pressed the play button.

“Hey, you wanna see something cool?”  It was Master Frown’s voice.

“Uhh…sure, what is it?” She assumed the other voice was a Frowntown citizen’s.

“See this pen right here?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

SLAM!

There was an unfinished scream, and the recording ended.

Unikitty moved her paw closer to the tip of the pen to put it away, but felt something icky and gagged.  She moved the pen closer to her face to see what it was, and found the victim from the recording’s eye and brain bits still there rotting away on the pen.

She screamed, one so loud and blood-curdling as the pen flew out of her paws, that turned into ugly sobbing.  Master Frown held his head closer to the closet door, enjoying every second of her pain.

“You hear that!?” he excitedly asked a softly grinning Possessed Brock, “OhHOHOHOHOOOOOH, YES, YES!  I LOVE IT!!!”

“OK OK, I GIVE UP!!!” Unikitty bawled, banging on the closet door, “PLEASE, MASTER FROWN, PLEASE LET ME OUT OF HERE!!!”

“See!?” Master Frown yelled triumphantly, “Now you know what you’re dealing with!  And if you try to find a way out again, YOU’RE NEXT, you hear me!?”

“YES,” Unikitty kept crying, “JUST PLEASE, LET ME OUT!!!  I DON’T WANNA BE IN THIS CLOSET ANYMORE!!!”

“Good,” Master Frown growled happily.  He unlocked the closet, to greet a traumatized Unikitty, her body white as snow and shaking so much that she could hardly stand, and her eyes ready to pour more buckets of tears.  “Now BACK IN THE CAGE WITH YOU!”  He tossed her into her tiny prison, and as she crash-landed inside, he slammed the cage shut and locked it.

(Art by @usf2020​, again)

“No…” Unikitty whimpered as she struggled to move until she could stand and yell “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?”

Master Frown and Possessed Brock left the room without a word.

“What have you done?” Unikitty whispered again before breaking down.

                                                          : ~~~ :

Hawkodile and Richard entered the lab in shock.  It became a mess of broken objects and stained walls and floors, one so messy that they couldn’t even see Dr. Fox herself until they spotted her in a curled up, shaking, panicking mess on the floor.  Tear marks stained her furry face and her glasses were cracked.

The two looked at each other, unsure of how well talking to Dr. Fox would go.  But they knew she’d get worse if nothing was done, so they walked slowly towards her.  Richard stopped a few yards away to give Hawkodile more space, and the bodyguard stopped once he felt close enough to Dr. Fox.  He knelt down and softly asked for her by name, to which she turned around, screamed, and turned back, hyperventilating louder and faster than before and trying to cover herself up with bent and crumpled up papers.

“No D-Dr. Fox, it’s ok,” Hawkodile hopefully tried calming her down, “It’s just us.”

“NO!” Dr. Fox yelled, “Please go away!  It’s best for all of us if just you leave me alone…”

“No, it’s really not,” Hawkodile tried to explain, “Because without you we have no chance at stopping Master Frown and saving Unikitty!  Now look, I know that today’s battle was…not that great for us, but it’s all just one little slip up if you think about it-”

“NO IT’S NOT!!!” Dr. Fox had enough strength to say to Hawkodile’s face, “I MADE THE GREATEST MISTAKE I POSSIBLY COULD, DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND!?  THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING ABOUT ME, NOT JUST AS A SCIENTIST BUT AS A PERSON!  AND TO YOU OF ALL PEOPLE, SO HOW CAN YOU SAY THOSE THINGS!?  I DON’T WANT ANYTHING LIKE THIS TO EVER HAPPEN AGAIN!”

Hawkodile thought about how he likely still wasn’t helping but felt that he had to keep trying.

“No, I know!  Believe me, I know.  You’re right, this did happen to me.  But look, it was an accident.  So even if I’m still in a lot of pain, I can’t really get mad at you because this is something none of us have ever prepared for.  So right now the best thing we can do is get up and try again.  And better!  Think about it: this is Unikitty we’re fighting for.  She’d wouldn’t give up on us if her life depended on it, and right now her life depends on us.  So I don’t know but if I were you, I’d get myself together and back on the team, and find her before it’s too late.”

“I-I know,” Dr. Fox sniffled, “I want to as much as you do, Hawk…but what if I mess up again?  You could  all die, Master Frown would win, and it’d be my fault!”

“Listen Doc,” Hawkodile gently put his arm on her shoulder, “you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.  There’s no way we’d let you do all the big stuff alone.  I can still fight!…” He looked back at his other arm.  “Well I’m gonna need some help first, but that still kinda proves my point.  If we’re gonna fight Master Frown again, we need to stick together.  And it’ll be different this time, I promise.”

Hawkodile held Dr. Fox’s hands and looked deep into her eyes.  “I’ll give you all the help you need.”

(Art by @its-a-me-lava​)

“Hawkodile…”

Just when he thought all his words meant nothing, Dr. Fox hugged him.

“You’re right!  It was dumb to think I’d be the kingdom’s big hero anyway.  We gotta give each other the help we need.  In fact, I think I can fix your arm and find a way to successfully raid Frowntown!”  She got up and walked out from under her desk.

“Of course, we have no idea how successful it’ll be, but hey, we still gotta try, right?”  Dr. Fox turned back to Hawkodile and winked at him.  He blushed and giggled.

“Yeah…we do.”

Richard leaned over gave a small smile, proud of his friends.

“So what do you say, guys?” Dr. Fox asked her friends, already regaining some confidence, “Let’s head back out there!”  She held a fist up in the air.  “For Unikitty!”

“For Unikitty!” Hawkodile joined her.  The fist bump turned into them holding their hands…and Hawkodile blushing harder.

The three walked upstairs to discuss potential rescue plans when Puppycorn suddenly greeted them.

“There you guys are!”  the prince said, relieved, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!  Why are you still not telling me what’s going on?  I miss Unikitty just as much as you do, you know!”

Dr. Fox, Hawkodile, and Richard looked at each other, trying to decide who had the best answer to give him.  But Richard got the most stares, so he sighed and floated closer to Puppycorn.

“Well, Hawkodile and Dr. Fox just agreed to go to Frowntown and rescue Unikitty.”

“Aww yeah!” Puppycorn shouted as he wagged his tail, “Can I come?”

“For the last time,” Richard sighed as Hawkodile and Dr. Fox cringed behind him, “no.”

“AGAIN!?” Puppycorn angrily protested, “But why!?  And you better tell me this time!”

“Ok slugger,” Hawkodile explained, “we know how much you love your sister, and trust us, we’d like to have more on the team.  But Master Frown’s become really dangerous as of late, and you’re uh…”

“Too inexperienced,” Dr. Fox continued for him, “Let’s put it that way.  We’re doing this to keep you safe, Puppycorn!  Hawkodile and I know a bit more when it comes to actually fighting and can’t afford to lose anyone else like we did Unikitty.  You see what he did to Hawkodile, right?  Just imagine what he could do if he got his hands on you.”

“Yeah it’d hurt,” Hawkodile tried putting it lightly.

“Indeed,” Richard agreed.

(Art by Michelle, who’s not on Tumblr)

“Well you know what else hurts?” Puppycorn pouted, “Being left out of something huge because you think I’m not smart enough to understand it!  And it’s not fair!  If you’re so scared of losing me, what about  Hawk and Dr. Fox!?  You can still lose them out there when they’re fighting!  Unikitty’s my big sister!  And I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again!  So if you can’t save her, then I want to.”  He looked away and hung his head to the side.

Everything was quiet until Dr. Fox gasped and shouted “THAT’S IT!  Puppycorn, you’re right!”

“He is?” Hawkodile and Richard asked.

“I am?” Puppycorn happily asked after them.

“Yes,” Dr. Fox joyfully explained, “Hawkodile and I can do the fighting, but you can do the rescuing!  Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“Wait, you’re right!” Hawkodile agreed.

“Yeah,” Puppycorn shouted, “let’s do it!”

“Hold up,” Hawkodile held Puppycorn by the head to stop him from running, “we still need to fix my arm.  Plus we’re gonna need more weapons and gadgets and I’ll have to show you some ways to defend yourself if you get in trouble.”

“Ok cool!” Puppycorn said, his tail wagging again.

“Which means we probably won’t leave until tomorrow,” Dr. Fox added.

“Ok,” Puppycorn’s mood didn’t change as Hawkodile let him go and he ran around in circles, “we’re still gonna save my big sis together, woo-hoo!!”

Richard knew he couldn’t stop them from doing something this risky and even a little stupid, but also that it was the best they could do.

“Just be careful out there,” was all he could say.  “Don’t worry, Richard,” Dr. Fox told him, “we’ve got this completely under control, right guys?”

The brick gave her a stare of disbelief as Puppycorn and Hawkodile cheered “Yeah!”

Dr. Fox put her fist in the air again.  “Come on guys, for Unikitty!  Again!”

“Yeah, again!”

“Aww yeah!”

                                                         : ~~~ :

As the sun rose over Unikingdom the next morning, the castle residents prepared to for the day’s big fight.

“Ok,” Hawkodile instructed everyone, eyeing Puppycorn specifically, “so one more time this way no one forgets: Dr. Fox, Puppycorn, and I are heading to Frowntown together and Rick will stay here to take care of the kingdom until at least one of us gets back.”

“Yes,” Richard said as he wearily looked at his friends, hoping it wouldn’t be the last, “just remember to please be careful out there.”

“We gotcha, Rick,” Puppycorn gave him a salute, “we promise, we’ll have Unikitty with us when we get back!”  He ran off giggling.

“Yeah,” Dr. Fox stepped closer to her floating gray friend, “if we’re successful, we’ll be right back.”

“We got this,” Hawkodile reassured Richard, putting his hand on Dr. Fox’s shoulder.  Then he pointed and yelled “Now let’s move out!”

The mission had begun.

That same morning, Master Frown watched the dull excuse for sunlight drift over Frowntown from the Doom Lord fortress rooftop.

(Art by me)

“Today’s going to be special…I can feel it.”

His evil giggle echoed through the town.

Well…happy St. Patrick’s Day!  :D

(Sorry if the wait for this one was a bit longer than expected.)

But wow oh wow, we’re roughly halfway through the AU’s story already!  Feels like just yesterday I was still working on the asks and still thinking about how the story would end.

A few more co-artists joined since last time as well, so not all of them got to work on art this time.  But the ones that did are, again, credited above.  I also promise that you’ll get to see more of them and their art in the upcoming chapters, so keep your eyes peeled!

(Even if chapter 4 is about as long as chapter 1 was and may take a while.)

See you soon!  ;)

[bestwishes86]

Open Container

"I got a good feeling. It doesn't happen. Very Often." Phoebe Bridgers

When David got the call he was just sitting down in his living room with "Game of Thrones" on his 42 inch flat screen.  The fresh bowl of Pop Secret and a Heineken sat on the polished coffee table. Hadley was at the Tailgating party for the Puritans and he was on call with the station.  He had spent the morning cleaning the upscale brownstone once back from Seattle to clear his head. The drive with that gay asshole had fucked with him more than he wanted to think about.  So he had busied himself, not thinking about him walking out of the missing woman's shower naked.  He could still see the words in other languages and black swirls running across that pale skin.  As he had polished every surface he could still see the tattoos had covered even the plump flaccid cock between those thick legs.

His bookshelves were filled with paperback novels from the eighties and nineties and every Disney movie with the large white boxes and the faded art and a selection of dvds.  The books and movies had belonged to his parents and he couldn't bring himself to throw any of it away.  His wife Penelo had done the decorating and so three oil paintings of landscapes in polished wood frames hung on the walls on either side of the flat screen. 

David sat on the soft dark leather couch and was pulling his remote to him when his phone rang.  Internally he thought about ignoring it incase it was another call about cow tipping or another horrible trip to Seattle to pick up another gay asshole who smelled like honeysuckle and blood.  Seeing the name LInds on the caller id he grabbed it and swiped right to answer it.

"Deputy, do you know a Jon Redding?" the deep voice of the Siren by night hard as nails, raven haired woman asked. 

"Yes...why?" David asked slowly, staring at the burning emblem of the show and the paused status bar at the bottom of the screen.

"You should probably cut him off, he's down here talking about loving someone who didn't exist and getting thrown into posters and that's not what the boring patrons want to hear, now is it?" Linds asked as she looked at the usually handsome bearded man who looked ready to pass out or throw up sitting alone at a table.  The other customers were human ones and she had sung two of her magical songs to distract them from him.  David felt a headache building behind his furrowed brows but he still rose from the couch and hung up the call and grabbed his keys. 

Jon stared at his empty glass, his mind muddled by the many drinks that had come before as he thought about that alternate version of himself.  While he was a short, muscular young man covered in witches spells.  That dreamed up version was a chubby, pasty coward.  He missed feeling that weak and vulnerable and the way Pete had looked at him.  Jon shook his head at the memory of the tall, pale muscular teenager with those green eyes and that square jaw.  But it was too late, he remembered the dream Pete had been in and been gutted in.  Tears burned at the corners of his eyes

"It wasn't real, none of it." Jon shouted to himself and all the bar patrons glared at him as they had every outburst he had made in the last hour.  He knew it was stupid, knew it was a waste of emotion but those feeiings he had felt in that mental prison had become a part of him.  He had been quiet the entire drive back with that asshole homophobe because he was etching into his memory those three dreams because of Pete.  The witch he had planned on eating had trapped him inside her mental prisons had made the imagined world so real he had created real feelings. 

"This seat taken," a gruff pissed off voice asked and Jon waved a hand in acceptance and grimaced at the loud scrapping of the wood against the concrete floor. David plopped down and held a hand up for the waitress.  HIs brown eyes looking over Jon, the man had worn a dark blue sweater and jeans with loafers.  David thought about his old Smashing Pumpkins t shirt and pajama bottoms and barefeet. He chuckled at this but when the red in the face spikey haired man looked at him, his smile fell away.

"You...." Jon said growling in distrust

"Hey man, Heard you were drinking here so I came by too," David was cut off by Jon

"You came here dressed like that to drink with me, no offense but unless you're going to knock me out and take me back to your house for a hard fucking, i'm gonna pass." Jon said looking David up and down and reaching for his glass having forgotten it was empty.  He grimaced at the mere hints of alcohol in it and waved for the waitress while David glared at him. 

"Do you have to go straight to sex every time i meet you." David said between gritted teeth.

"We've met twice. Second, what else am I good for? Never mind that last point. You don't even know me is what I'm trying to say." Jon slurred in a voice that was something between indignant and a purr.  David rolled his eyes at him and Jon slumped back in his chair.

"Why would I want to? I'm just here to make sure you don't talk about shit you promised you wouldn't." David paused as the waitress appeared he ordered two Rum Punches and a Budwiser. 

"I didn't say you could buy a drink for me," Jon said as he closed his eyes

"I didn't, those are all for me." David said as he glared at LInds who waved apologetically. 

"Ok. Did the bartender alert you to me talking too much," Jon asked and Davd nodded.

"I just...never mind it's stupid once you're drunk we can leave," Jon said as the two red glasses and the bottle arrived.

"You want anything," David asked, his expression softened as he smelled the sadness coming off Jon and heard the pain in his voice. Jon reached for one of the rum punches and David smacked his hand.

"Mine," David said drawing the glass away from the drunkard, he continued, "I meant something else. I got you for it, I already covered your bill," David said and Jon thought about it for a moment and asked for a Bud Light.  David raised an eyebrow  but placed the order the two sat in heavy silence.  David occasionally glanced at the drunk man stare at the table and the empty glass, it was clear his mind was somewhere else. David finished his first drink and curled his toes on the cold floor.  Jon's beer arrived and David watched Jon drink half of it one go.  He watched the Adam's apple bob with each swallow before he looked away. 

"Have you ever missed someone you shouldn't," Jon asked and David sat up uncomfortable as he looked at Jon.  The image of the beautifully deformed half woman half wolf chained to walls in an institution flashed in David's mind.

"Yeah, hurts all the same." David said solemnly thinking of his wife.  His Alpha had told him to kill her, to end her suffering but he couldn't.  So he had driven her to that asylum and chained her up himself.  Her human mind was gone, buried inside the feral wolf mind that ruled that malformation.

"It really really fucking does.  In that place that woman held me, there was a boy my mind made up.  He was...kind to me.  The first person in my life to be kind to me ended up being my own imagination...how fucked is that." Jon said and as he admitted it two large tears began their descent down his cheeks.  They were soon chased by more and he quietly wept.  He didn't care if David said something else assholey to him.  If the bar patrons kicked him out, none of it mattered as he watched the large stainless steel meat hook burst out of Pete's broad chest.  His mind had drifted back to that nightmarish prison he had been kept in.  He and Pete had run from the blank faced woman up the stairs of his home to his bedroom and locked the door behind them.  It had happened so suddenly as they had caught their breath.  She had burst through the wood, her scream almost deafening as Pete had run at her with his chair as a weapon.  She had smacked him away so effortlessly and then glowered at him.

Jon had stood there frozen in horror as the woman took slow strides toward him, she had reached into that dusty overcoat and pulled the metal hook from it and it caught the light of the room and glistened.  He had wanted to brave, wanted to try something to save them but he had been so afraid.  Pete had run in front of Jon to save him from it in that made up nightmare.  Jon could feel the moment when life left Pete's body.  It was if something was pulled from his body, ripped away with that second in life.  It didn't matter if it was real or not, it had felt real to him. 

Strong hands were on his shoulders, he felt his body rising up as he was swung up into someone's arms but he didn't care.  He kept his eyes closed as he was carried out of the bar.  The cool night air felt heavenly on his face.  He buried his head against the hard flat chest he was pressed against.  Jon focused on the heart beating strong beneath the shirt and skin and muscle there.  It was real, in that drunken moment it was the only thing real to him.

David had felt his wolf howl in pain watching the quiet crying, he had tried to ignore it.  But that open honest act of feeling had struck him in the gut.  He had looked around and saw that the once loud raucous bar was silent as everyone watched Jon.  That had been what caused him to rise from his seat and carry him out.  Carrying the muscular man might have been hard for a normal man but for one with preternatural strength it was like carrying a newborn pup.  He ignores the gravel that dug into the skin of his bare feet as he listens to the steady heart beat.  Keeping Jon close to him kept his wolf from howling in mourning so he did.  Linds was behind him a few steps, she silently watched him, he could feel her eyes on his back as he made his way through the packed parking lot to his truck.   The tall, slender, dark haired woman wore a red velvet corset that pushed up her sizable chest and painted on black jeans and boots.  Her race's language was tattooed across her arms in dark blue swaths of color.  She opened the door for him and he placed Jon inside. 

It wasn't til he buckled the seatbelt that she spoke.  There were only a few reasons Sirens were ever silent and he knew it wouldn't be good but he listened, his focus on making sure Jon was secure.

"I've seen your future, the same as I saw it when your daddy broke your right arm.  The man I saw you kissing in your future, he's that man there. He is exactly as I described it to you 15 years ago. You came here the instant you heard it was him.  That means something Davey," Linds said and David whirled around to face her.  His brown eyes burning gold with the power of his wolf burning right beneath his skin.

"Jesus H. Christ Linds!!! I don't fucking need this shit. This man is the top suspect in a woman's disappearance. My wife is in a fucking padded cell. Everytime I see her she rips my throat out and I watch her eat it. And you're here reminding me that 15 years ago my dad took a hammer and shattered my elbow. Spit on me and called me a faggot, all for this sad sack of shit who was in your bar mooning over a made up teenage crush that I am jealous of." LInds eyebrows shot up the same as his as he realized what he said.  He couldn't take it back.  Linds watched the lean werewolf vibrate with shock and anger.  She knew she should be afraid but all she wanted to do was the same thing she had done when they had been teenagers. She reached out for him but he took a step back, not trusting the low growling wolf inside his soul. 

He had sat in that bar watching those tears and selfishly wished they had been for him, not some made up boy.  He felt immature and selfish and wanted to be alone but instead he fished his keys out of his pocket and stormed around to the driver's side of the truck and got in and without a word drove off as Linds watched him go. 

[starlightinhumanform]

The Art of Love: Chapter 8

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora 

Summary: Two sleep deprived gays in a room. Chaos ensues. 

Warnings (for this chapter): Mild language, (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: This chapter is just a nice little break because I think we all need some crack fic after season 3. As always, there’s hella fluff just because... I like it. Anyways I decided to insert the headcannon that like me, Adora gets chattery and kinda loopy (read: flirty) when she’s tired. It was funny to me at least and it seemed to go along with Drunk Adora™️ All notes are so appreciated- especially reblogs!! I also love hearing what you think!! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3    The Art of Love Masterpost    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

They finished far sooner than Glimmer expected them to. At least finished as much as they could, leaving the freshly painted protons to be dealt with in the- well it already was morning- but later at least. Adora had wired the electrons’ form together with expert precision which had surprised Glimmer more than it should have; by now, she should have figured that Adora was basically an expert at everything. Well, almost everything. Apparently art wasn’t her strong suit because she had come spent most of her time threading the protons together multitasking by pausing to practically drool over Glimmer’s painting job.

In Adora’s defense, she was loopy- incredibly so. The lack of sleep had obviously caught up with her because she was acting ridiculous, all previously standard composure completely abandoned. She kept giggling at random things like her hair getting tangled in the wire (Glimmer had to help her untie it because Adora was far too enthusiastic about cutting her soft locks off). Worst of all, she kept leaning towards Glimmer, bumping her face against Glimmer’s shoulder, and cooing for god’s sake. She mumbled seemingly whatever came to mind and almost all it seemed to center around Glimmer. About her art, about her hair, about her eyes, about the posters on her walls. Once, she had leaned over, resting her weight on her elbow and just staring up at Glimmer from below. She hadn’t stopped until Glimmer had asked what was wrong.

“Nothing. You’re just really pretty.”

Oh.

Glimmer knew it was just the side effects of Adora’s exhaustion, that she wasn’t thinking her clear, logical thoughts she usually did and that she probably- no, definitely- didn’t actually mean it. That didn’t mean Glimmer didn’t squirm where she sat or that her throat didn’t make a strange gulping sound when she tried to swallow and that she didn’t blush deep red at Adora’s rain of compliments. Sometimes when Adora’s face found Glimmer’s shoulder she wouldn’t resist the urge to run her fingers through the blond hair and would let herself feel rewarded by Adora’s happy little hums. Her mind yelled at her to push Adora away but she was so close.

So Glimmer decided to let herself pretend- at least for now, at least for this half an hour while her overhead light meant her window was the only glowing window on her whole block. She could pretend that it was ok to like Adora and indulge herself in whatever the hell Adora was doing.

Despite Adora’s apparent drunkenness, she finished the part Glimmer had assigned her to aptly and faster than Glimmer would have guessed with all of Adora’s breaks to whisper into Glimmer’s side.

Adora placed the mildly dangerous looking piece of wire and clay down in front of her and plodded over to Glimmer comically on her hands and knees. She sat down with an oof behind her, stretching her arms loosely around Glimmer’s neck and placing her head on her shoulder.

Glimmer felt her body tense as she took a sharp inhale, “What are you doing?”

Adora started drawing away, “Oh sorry-“

“No it’s ok!” The words came out of Glimmer’s mouth so quickly she wasn’t even sure she had said them.

“Ok then,” Adora settled back into Glimmer’s back, as if it was more comfortable to be close than far apart. Glimmer let herself entertain the idea for just a moment before realizing it was ridiculous to think Adora would share Glimmer’s begrudgingly admitted feelings.

“But... what were you doing?” What the hell- she mights as well torture herself and entertain the notion, right?

“It’s just that this is how me and Cat hang out a lot.”

“Oh,” The timid little ball of warmth that had worked so hard to climb up Glimmer’s chest suddenly plummeted. Just the mention of Cat was enough to set Glimmer on edge, but the thought that Glimmer was just a temporary replacement, a stand-in for Cat? That was the poison her mind had been warning her about earlier, an insidious venom that made Glimmer sick to her stomach.

“I just assumed that’s how most friends act, ya know?” Adora continued on, completely unaware of Glimmer’s rushing thoughts only inches away. But hey at least she was trying to act like friends? The warmth began to rise again but it was sickly.

Glimmer huffed a laugh without actually laughing, “Why would you need to assume? You’ve got tons of friends.”

Adora shrugged, “I mean, I know a lot of people but I wouldn’t say I’m really close with any of them. Cat’s my only real friend.”

Adora’s voice was higher than usual and held an odd sing-song quality that made the whole, relatively serious conversation feel completely surreal.

“‘cept for you of course.”

“What?”

“You’re my friend too,” Glimmer could feel Adora’s smile on her neck as she spoke and Glimmer was worried she going to start glowing.

“Well that’s one good thing isn’t it?” Glimmer was smiling too now.

At some point Adora made the decision that the correct place for her head was in Glimmer’s lap, settling her face into the softness of Glimmer’s thigh. She looked up with quickly drooping eyes as Glimmer’s hands and paintbrush worked above her. Apparently she didn’t notice Glimmer’s pounding heart or screaming brain because she fell asleep quickly.

Glimmer stuttered through her remaining work because she kept gazing down at Adora, trying to comprehend how this had happened. Less than a week ago she had hated Adora- or at least thought she did- now, she was sitting with the girl curled in her lap like a snuggly cat and a throbbing crushing in her chest. It was too much for head to wrap itself around; especially if part of her mind was still in vicious denial.

Glimmer tried to sort through her options, sifting them through a mental filing system. She could try to be friends with Adora but that would risk her crush growing and that would be painful because obviously Adora would never return the favor. There was also the fact that Adora would probably get tired of her quickly and then that would really hurt and even if she didn’t, Cat held herself far above Glimmer and would never tolerate being around her so then Adora would have to choose between one of them and of course she would choose the friend she’d had for literally her entire life. Ok so what’s the alternative? Stop hanging out with her, push her away as far as possible. Her brain had an immediate answer, but it wasn’t without consequences either. Namely, it might hurt Adora’s feelings and Glimmer wasn’t sure she could stand to see sadness in those big blue eyes- especially if she knew she had caused it. And... Glimmer couldn’t bet on her crush wearing off just because she distanced herself from Adora. Now that Glimmer had ripped the top of Pandora’s Box off, there was no guarantee the flood of emotions that drenched her every time she looked at Adora would stop any time soon.

Glimmer finished painting and sighed, letting herself relax for the first time since Adora had texted her the evening before. She set down her brush and the last “proton.” There was nothing she could do until they dried and she let her shoulders slump forward. Glimmer could feel the exhaustion running through her very bones. She hadn’t pulled a night like this in a long time and it was definitely catching up with her. Her eyelids felt almost as heavy as Adora’s head in her lap. Adora.

She let her smile creep towards fondness as she looked down at Adora. She was too tired to listen to her stupid, crazy brain and anyways, even her thoughts were starting to get sluggish. It gave Glimmer the time to think- actually think- without having to compete with her own input. Adora looked peaceful but very very human. She struck Glimmer as perfect but somehow she had never seen someone look more real than Adora did in that moment. She looked absolutely and, with out a doubt, perfectly sincere- ah, so that’s the word she had been looking for.

Glimmer smiled as she slumped forward.

———————————————————————

When she woke up, she was hunched over Adora exactly where she had passed out. She couldn’t have fallen asleep for more than half an hour but it was long enough to develop one hell of a crick in her neck.

Her eyesight was nearly as blurry as her thoughts but she was aware of two things, the first being that the darkness outside her window had become marginally lighter and was beginning to shift from pure obsidian blue to gray. The other thing she knew was that there was something solid and yellow lying across her lap. Oh, it’s Adora.

Shit, ADORA. It suddenly hit Glimmer that it was morning and her mom would be here any minute and Adora was not only here but sound asleep and Glimmer had no idea how she was going to get her out of the house. Glimmer’s mom had made the habit of checking on Glimmer to make sure she made it to bed at least once in a night while she stayed up until her-mother-didn’t-want-to-know when. She would not be incredibly enthused to find her daughter curled on the floor with some strange girl that she had no idea about. But it wasn’t like Glimmer could throw Adora out onto the streets in a not so great part of town at 4:30 in the morning. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she could wake Adora.

“Adora, Adora, hey Adora. Wake up,” She shook the girl’s shoulders without being rewarded with any sort of response, “Adora!!”

The girl was completely gone and the only signs she showed of being effected at all by Glimmer’s continuous movement was the occasional noise. She might as well have been a large rock for as responsive as she was being. At least a rock wouldn’t piss Glimmer’s mom off so much, though.

Glimmer gave up, huffing and letting her hands fall to her sides. She stood up slowly and carefully so that Adora’s head didn’t roll off her lap with the inevitable clunk that comes with someone’s head hitting the floor (Glimmer knew about this sound because she had experienced it herself multiple times). She sighed through her nose and with her hands on her hips she realized how much she must look like some parent looking at their unruly child and saying “Now what am I going to do with you?” Gross.

Glimmer flopped the palms of her hands against her thighs for a moment before resolving to physically move Adora. She bent down, hooked her arms under Adora’s armpits, and lugged her own body upwards, hoping Adora’s form would move with her. Unfortunately, Glimmer soon found that Adora was roughly as heavy as a large rock as well. Maybe even a small boulder. Either that or Glimmer was somewhat weak. She shook her head- nah that couldn’t be it.

She tried a different approach this time, keeping her knees bent and tugging Adora as she scooted backwards in baby steps. She was able to swivel Adora so her feet were facing the door and her head was towards Glimmer’s bed. It was at this point that Glimmer realized there was a maze of wire and clay and whatever else she had piled up between them and the other side of the room; there was no way she was going to be able to navigate all that.

Glimmer groaned with her head thrown back before placing Adora back down as gently as she could and wincing when the girl slipped out of her arms a little too quickly. Ah, there’s the clunk. Glimmer was almost sure Adora would wake up as her head made contacted with the floor. When she made no movement whatsoever, it flashed across Glimmer’s mind that maybe the impact was enough to actually knock her out.

She pushed the thought aside and began moving the materials out of the way. It took at least ten minutes for Glimmer to reach the bed and in that time period she wasn’t able to figure out anything that resembled the next step. She had already found that she couldn’t lift Adora and even if she could, her mother would be even less happy with finding Glimmer in bed with some random girl.

Glimmer set Adora back down, placing the girl’s back against the mattress side. The only thing she could think of doing was attempting to wake Adora again. This time her rough shakes were successful and Adora sat up only slightly straighter than the position Glimmer had slumped her in. Adora turned her head as she looked around the room with bleary eyes as if she didn’t know where she was.

“Adora, thank god you’re alive- I mean awake. Look, I need you to hide,” Glimmer was whispering just in case her mom was home early by some odd twist of fate.

“Ooo ok,” Adora struggled to her feet, using one of Glimmer’s arms as an anchor to haul herself up. She began walking unsteadily to some unknown location in Glimmer’s room.

“Where the hell are you going?!”

“Hiding,” Adora twisted rather floppily to give Glimmer a conspiratorial wink.

She made her way to Glimmer’s closet, pulling open one of the paneled doors and slipping inside.

“Adora!” Glimmer hissed, “Come out of the closet!”

“Ok, I’m a lesbian,” Adora stage whispered from behind the door.

Glimmer couldn’t stop herself but laugh, hiding her face behind her hands, “Oh my god, you’re an idiot. Get out of there.”

Adora stuck her head out, grinning and Glimmer grabbed her wrist to pull the rest of her out into the room. It was strange how natural it felt- to interact with Adora, to grab her hand and laugh at her and with her and it was all very new but it was all very right. Once again, it struck Glimmer how quickly things had changed.

Adora clambered out of the closet and grinned at Glimmer, “So what’s up?”

“Oh, uh,” Glimmer ran her hands through her hair, “sometimes my mom will check on me and I think she’ll be pissed if she finds me sleeping with some strange girl.”

It took a second for what had come out of Glimmer’s mouth to second to sink into her brain, “Not like, ya know, sleeping together- we just both happened to be asleep. Together. Not even that close. Just like in the same room.”

Adora wrinkled her eyebrows, “Didn’t I fall asleep basically in your lap?”

Shit she remembers that?

“Oh yeah- ha- guess you did,” Glimmer tried for a smile.

Adora returned it with a genuine one, full of smugness that made the blood rush to Glimmer’s face, “So we were pretty close?”

“Uh, yeah, that it pretty close again,” Glimmer prayed that her blush wasn’t showing through, “I mean- um, I guess we were pretty close, yeah?”

Adora was stepping forward, laughing like a chime on the wind, “Is that a question?”

“I don’t think so...”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Adora was right in front of her now, smile close-lipped but still as playful and bright as ever. She swung her arms around Glimmer, clasping her hands behind Glimmer’s neck. Oh no no no no no no.

Glimmer was a gay disaster and her thundering heart couldn’t handle this shit. She wondered vaguely if she could die from- well she didn’t know what this was, but it sure felt deadly. It suddenly struck Glimmer that Adora was flirting with her, causing her to stare up at Adora with eyes filled with more terror than what was usually associated with someone attractive flirting with you.

Adora laughed and replaced her hands by her side before Glimmer’s mind could dissolve further into a tangle of short circuiting wires. Glimmer let out a sigh of relief but her heart sunk fast enough to make a splashing wave in her stomach. Adora’s hands were warm; warm enough to spread heat straight through Glimmer’s core. She looked up into Adora’s blue eyes, searching for answers in the mirth that swam there.

“Glimmer? Glimmer?” Adora’s face came back into focus wearing a grin, “You kinda spaced out there.”

Glimmer wished she could just stare into that blue forever without having to worry about anything else. But Adora was staring at her with a quirked eyebrow and confused smile, “Yeah sorry, just a bit out of it.”

Adora tilted her head to the side and let the ghost of her finger tips run along the side of Glimmer’s face. It made a shiver run down her spine and the breath in her throat glitch to a stop. This girl needed to stop before Glimmer just completely lost control of all her functions, “Well I’ve gotten a lot more sleep than you; you should let yourself rest until we need to get up in the morning.”

“Yeah, uh, about that; how are you getting to school?” Glimmer breathed out the words but it still didn’t feel like her lungs were working.

“Cat’ll pick me up in the morning. She always does.”

“Oh, uh, right,” Cat. Jeez, it was always Cat wasn’t it? She had gotten so worried about blocking herself from Adora that she had forgotten that Cat would actually keep Adora from her- physically.

“Don’t worry about me, though,” Adora’s grin beamed through Glimmer’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?” Damn, am I being that obvious? Glimmer shook her head slightly, hoping it could sort everything in her head to an easy little set of boxes that she had never been actually able to create, “Why would I worry about you? Like, heh, what would give you the impression that I was worried about you? I’m not worried about you!”

Adora’s face fell immediately and the small expression made something twist in Glimmer’s gut. It was nothing like the smug, (dare Glimmer hazard it) flirty smile she had held on seconds before, “Oh, uh, you seemed to get really worried when I said that and I just thought maybe it was because I’ll have to walk a ways to where I get picked up but I was wrong and I shouldn’t have just assumed that you’d be thinking about me. It was stupid-“

“No! It’s not that it’s just-“ Glimmer couldn’t stand the way Adora had turned her head to the side, eyes downcast and only daring to make eye contact for a second before breaking it off to examine the floor. Nah, it was Glimmer’s job to be an insecure loser.

“It’s just what?” Adora’s eyes flashed up and help steady with Glimmer’s for longer. There was that sadness in them that made Glimmer’s heart crumple like a soda can.

Glimmer deflated. She wasn’t ready to let Adora only to be told she was reading into everything way too far; she wasn’t ready to get hurt, “It’s nothing.”

Adora managed to complete her transformation into kicked puppy, forcing a sigh out of Glimmer.

She composed herself. She could lie, she did it all the time- Adora was no different. Except she was different. Glimmer pushed the thought to the side and straightened like an actor preparing to step on stage, “I wasn’t worried about you because you can obviously take care of yourself so I have complete confidence in you.”

The effect was immediate, Adora’s face brightening like the sun breaking through clouds after a rain storm, “Oh, really?”

Glimmer raised her hand to cross a X across her chest and she was reminded of just how close they were, how little space there was between. But she had to continue, finish the act- for Adora and herself, “Yeah, really!”

It occurred to Glimmer that she was more or less doing exactly what she had accused Adora of. Just another thought for Glimmer to shoosh to the side, whispering that she had good intentions while she had thought Adora was just trying to recruit her... or whatever she had thought. It all seemed very far away now.

“Oh... ok,” Adora smiled and Glimmer could swear a lead jacket had fallen off her shoulders.

“So anyways,” Adora yawned, sentence broken by her never satisfied exhaustion, “What are we going to do about your mom or whatever? Do you, uh, do you want me to hide somewhere.”

She grimaced, glancing back at the closet she had climbed out of and Glimmer couldn’t stop herself from laughing, “I’m not going to force you sleep in the closet.”

Adora giggled, “Good- I’ve spent enough time in there.”

Glimmer laughed again before chewing her bottom lip and scratching the back of her head. She dragged the short, thick waves through her fingers as she spoke, “I think we could just share the bed again.”

“Won’t your mom see me?”

“If you take the wall side, I think it’ll be ok; she doesn’t really look too hard,” Glimmer set all her previous concerns aside to create new, fresher worries, her face scrunched up in thought. She had a lot to consider- mainly the fact that she and Adora had a tendency to get wrapped up in each other when they slept near each other and she wasn’t confident her pinning heart and divided mind could handle the inevitable situation. She wasn’t sure if she could stand to wrap her arms around this girl knowing she was never going to be able to do it again.

But Adora was already shuffling forward, Glimmer’s wrist held loosely in her curled fingers and Glimmer’s heart grasped firmly in her casual movements. Glimmer had noticed before the hypnotizing qualities of Adora’s signature ponytail that she wore to school everyday; she had never given herself the time to let herself wonder why she was so fascinated. Here though, she couldn’t help it. Adora moved like someone who knew exactly what they were doing- despite they fact that they were somewhat drunk. Her torso swayed from side to side far more than it usually did or probably should. It caused her loose hair to shift across her back like sand move from dune to dune.

Adora turned with a confused grin to face Glimmer and gave the wrist she was holding a small tug, “You planning on just standing there?”

“What?” Glimmer realized her feet had forgotten to move. She considered taking a step forward but wasn’t prepared to stand practically nose to nose with Adora- again.

“It’s like you never want to sleep,” Adora’s smile was real but so was the question beneath it.

“Oh, uh, I guess it’s just I’m not used to sharing a bed with someone,” It wasn’t really a lie. It’s not that I don’t want to sleep; I just don’t want to do it next to you.

Adora tilted her head the side, “You don’t like being in bed with someone?”

What sort of question is that?? Glimmer took the easy route, shrugging and hoping it was enough to throw the conversation back to Adora’s side.

Adora seemed to be thinking, eyes staring at something far away and a few inches left of Glimmer’s head. She was rubbing the pad of her thumb along where she was still holding Glimmer’s wrist, completing a semicircle from the soft inner side and back up to the top and back down again. Once, twice, three times, four. Glimmer knew it was just a compulsion as Adora thought, but the gentleness made her breath go feathery.

Finally Adora shared her grand conclusion, stopping the movement of her thumb- but not before Glimmer’s knees had given her an arched eyebrow sort of warning like Ya know you can’t handle this sorta shit and we might give out soon, “I like sleeping next to someone; it’s just cozier.”

Adora wrote off her words with a shrug but Glimmer could tell she really meant it, that she felt safer with someone sleeping by her side. It wasn’t Glimmer’s thing, but Adora obviously felt that way with her whole being.

“Ok,” Glimmer wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say, “well, we should probably go to sleep if we want to be awake for any of our classes.”

Adora snorted and began moving again, Glimmer actually following this time, “God, don’t remind me of that. I am going to look dead tomorrow or actually today haha.”

Adora’s laugh was bitterly fake and it made Glimmer cringe internally, “Yeah I’m sorry about that.”

The girl had already thrown herself onto the bed, back to the wall and face turned up to look at Glimmer who was still standing. She looked confused again, with just a hint of incredulity, “Why would you be sorry? It’s Weaver’s stupid fault that we needed to stay up until god knows when to work on this stupid project.”

Glimmer laid down as Adora continued ranting, resting on her hip so she could watch Adora as she spoke.

“I just hate teachers who assume we don’t have any other classes or homework or- dare we even mention it- lives outside of school?!” Adora’s tone had risen while the volume had stayed the same.

She was quietly hissing her words out, spitting venom at the whole of the American education system, but her wide eyes stared at Glimmer with out any kind of ill will, simply looking for agreement.

Glimmer wanted to just give in, tell Adora that she was absolutely right (that wouldn’t be a lie) and she could listen to her rant for hours (also not a lie). She liked the passion sparking off Adora; she was always so contained and proper that this enraged, adorable fireball excited Glimmer. Because Glimmer could work with that; Glimmer knew fire- she felt it everyday. But they both needed sleep and especially Adora, “You’re completely right and you should say it... just not right now. ‘Cause if you keep whisper yelling, neither of us are going to be able to get any more rest.”

Adora nodded, looking disappointed but conceding to Glimmer’s point, “Yeah, ok, you’re right. But we’ll have to take a rain check on this- I have whole essays about that shit.”

Glimmer huffed through her nose, “Of course you do; and you probably wrote them for fun.”

Adora lifted one shoulder, “Can’t deny that.”

“Well you can tell me about it some other time.”

“I’ll just start yelling at you from across the halls,” She grinned brightly and gave a playful wink, “I’m sure that’s exactly what you would want me to do.”

She plans on talking to me at school... Butterflies were hosting a full on rave in Glimmer’s stomach. And that wink; she was actually going to kill Glimmer.

“Anyways, what time are you planning on getting up?”

Glimmer tried to shake off her blush without success, “Oh, we shouldn’t sleep in too long because my mom usually comes into my room in the morning to physically drag me out of bed.”

Adora laughed and Glimmer continued on, “Anyways, what time were you thinking about?”

Adora quirked her mouth to the side for a second to think, “Would six be ok?”

Glimmer checked her phone and set an alarm, “Sure, that’d give us a whole two hours and twenty minutes.”

Glimmer had spoken with a sarcastic tone but Adora nodded and seemed to get ready to fall asleep. She snuggled her side into the mattress, curling inwards but scooting towards Glimmer. Within a few seconds her breathing had fallen into a steady rhythm.

So Glimmer had no idea if Adora was actually aware of her actions when she reached out, placing her arm across Glimmer’s and pressing her hand into Glimmer’s back. It forced Glimmer to curl herself closer to Adora, but there was no force in it; Glimmer had melted at her touch.

She fell asleep counting Adora’s freckles.

[madpanda75]

I have one for Sonny too if that's ok? “Shut up and kiss me already.” Love that talkative daddy long legs. 😅Thank you!

I’m with you, love me some Sonny! That sweet sexy bean pole does things to me! Thanks for the request, I hope you like it ❤️ Also I believe it is canon that Sonny Carisi loves games (especially Twister 😉)

“Classroom Kisses”

The first grade students at P.S.19 quietly read in their seats while you were writing out math problems on the board. You sighed, slightly shaking your head when a small familiar voice cut through the silence. Without even looking, you already knew who was disrupting the class.

“Dominick,” you turned around and crossed your arms, a stern look on your face. “This is quiet reading time.”

The blue eyed boy looked up at you sheepishly, “Sorry, Ms. Y/L/N, I was just telling Caroline a joke.

“Save it for recess, Dominick,” you said before turning back to the board. Unfortunately, Dominick didn’t save his joke for recess. For the remainder of the day, the little boy continued to talk, trying to get the attention of his classmates. You had scolded Dominick more times than you could count. In a way you almost felt sorry for him. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself from talking.

Dominick was a handful, but you had a soft spot in your heart for the little boy. He was bright and incredibly sweet, one of your favorite students. He just couldn’t stop talking.

After school, the two of you sat in your classroom working on an art project while waiting for the little boy’s mom to pick him up. You smiled, watching as he painted a rainbow on poster board, “You’re a good artist, Dom!”

The little boy beamed at your compliment, “Thanks, art’s my favorite subject!”

“Mine too,” you replied, painting a fluffy white cloud next to his rainbow. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Looking up, you saw a tall handsome man with the cutest dimples you had ever seen.

“Uncle Sonny!” Dominick exclaimed, running to the older man.

Sonny gave Dominick a high five, “Hey, little man! What’s up? Ya’ have a good day at school?”

“Yep! The best! I got to help Ms. Y/L/N with her art project!” Dominick took his uncle by the hand, pulling him over to you. “Ms. Y/L/N, this is my Uncle Sonny!”

Sonny’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you. He had heard his nephew talk about his favorite teacher, but he had no idea how beautiful you were.

“The famous Uncle Sonny. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said with a smile.

“Likewise, Dominick talks about ya’ all the time. I hope it’s ok that I’m picking him up, his mom had to work an extra shift.”

“That’s fine, Mr.?”

“Carisi, but please call me, Sonny,” he replied.

“Only if you call me, Y/N,” you shook his hand, drinking in his bright blue eyes and sweet smile.

He leaned in, studying your face. “You..uh…got some paint on your forehead,” he said, motioning to a spot on his own head.

“Oh, I do?” You touched your forehead, trying to wipe off the paint, but only making it worse.

He bit back a laugh, reaching into his jacket for a handkerchief, “May I?”

“Thanks,” you bit your lip and blushed as he cupped your face with one hand while gently wiping the paint off.

Dominick looked between his uncle and teacher, “Are you two gonna kiss?”

“Dominick!” You and Sonny both said at the same time, catching each other’s eye and laughing.

“Dominick, why don’t you go to the restroom and clean the paint brushes for me,” you ruffled his hair a bit, handing him the dirty brushes.

Sonny chuckled to himself, watching his little nephew walk into the bathroom, “He’s a character.”

You nodded your head, “Dominick is a great student, but he’s a social butterfly, talks a bit too much in class.”

Sonny walked over and helped you put the paints away, “I was the same way when I was his age. Always talking. I mean I could just talk and talk and talk. My ma says I was worse than my sisters. Every report card I got always said the same thing, Dominick Carisi Jr. is a smart boy but chats too much in class.” He stopped talking and rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed when he realized he was rambling on. “Looks like I’m still a talker.”

You giggled, “Must be family trait.”

“All done!” Dominick came running back into the classroom, handing you the clean brushes, looking expectantly at his uncle. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure thing, pal. You’re driving right?” Sonny teased.

“Uncle Sonny, you’re silly!” The little boy ran out the room. “Meet you at the car!”

“Wait for me, Dom!” Sonny called out before turning back to you. “It was nice to meet ya’, Y/N. Hope to see ya’ around sometime.”

“Well, now you know where to find me,” you winked at him, sitting back at your desk.

Over the next few weeks, Sonny began picking up his nephew more and more. You didn’t mind one bit. Apart from being sweet and gorgeous, you and Sonny really hit it off, becoming good friends.

Even if Dominick’s mom would pick him up from school, Sonny would still stop by with a cup of coffee or a donut, just to talk. You would tell him about all the crazy antics his nephew or another student tried to pull on you that day. His line of work was always dark and depressing. Visiting you was an escape for him.

One day you asked if Sonny wouldn’t mind stopping by after school to help you put up some decorations for Saint Patrick’s Day. Every month you would choose a theme, transforming your room into a whole other world for your students. The kids loved it, but decorating an entire classroom was a big job for one person to do alone.  

Sonny was happy to help. He strode into the room, pizza box in hand watching as you stood on your tiptoes on top of your desk, struggling to hang up a fluffy cotton ball cloud from the ceiling, “Hey, be careful up there.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this a million times,” you replied, hanging a pot of gold next to the cloud. “Thanks for helping me with this. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Sonny set the pizza box down on a nearby desk. He cleared his throat, unable to look away as your skirt rode up, revealing your shapely legs. “I brought pizza from that place you were telling me about.”

“You went to Lombardi’s?!” You turned towards him, momentarily forgetting where you were standing. One misstep and you were falling to the floor. Sonny was quick to action, moving to catch you in his arms.

You both stared at each other for a moment, a flush creeping up on your face, “Betcha haven’t met a girl who would tumble to her death just for a slice of pizza,” you mumbled.

“You’d be surprised,” he smirked, setting you down on your feet. “Almost forgot, I brought ya’ this,” he opened a bag, holding out a shiny red apple.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Are you trying to be teacher’s pet?”

“Maybe,” he winked at you before looking at the assortment of decorations on your desk. “Tell ya’ what. Why don’t we eat and then you can leave the ceiling decorations to the tall guy,” he rolled up his sleeves and hung up a green shamrock with ease.

After pizza, you and Sonny continued to decorate your classroom. By the time you finished, the place looked like a lush green fairyland, covered in clouds, rainbows, and pots of gold. Sonny half expected a leprechaun to leap out of a desk. “Wow,” he whistled, taking in the state of the room. “This place looks amazing. Wish my teachers did stuff like this when I was in school.”

“Thanks! It’s a win-win. I love arts and crafts and the kids flip when they see the room like this,” you stamped the last of your leprechaun footprints with green paint as Sonny walked around the room, surveying all the books and games you had. Some of them he remembered from when he was a kid. A smirk tugged at his lips when one game in particular caught his eye.

“Hey, Y/N, what do ya’ think?” He asked, holding up Twister. “Up for a little fun?”

You sauntered over to him, a playful expression on your face, “Hmm, you sure you’re up for that, my long limbed friend? I am the Twister champion around here.”

Sonny scoffed, “Do not underestimate these long limbs.” He leaned in closer to you, “I can move in ways you’ve never seen.”

A shiver shot down your spine at his words. Narrowing your eyes, you looked between the game and Sonny, “You’re on. I hope you’re prepared to lose.” You grabbed the game to begin setting up as he pushed some chairs out of the way.

By the fourth spin, you and Sonny were a tangle of limbs, your hands and feet all over the mat, looking like one giant human pretzel.

“Sonny…stop making me laugh! I’m trying to concentrate!” You gasped between fits of giggles.

“Sorry, doll,” he laughed.

You stretched and reached for the spinner, the board instructing you to move left hand, green. “Ok, how am, I going to do this,” you said to yourself, looking around the mat for a free green space within reach. Biting your lip in concentration, you leaned closer to Sonny, your arm snaking under his. “Aha! I did it!” You exclaimed.

“It’s…ummm…it’s your turn,” you murmured, glancing down at his bubblegum pink lips. You tried to maintain your position even though the scent of his cologne and his crystal blue eyes were causing you to lose your focus on the game.

With your free foot, you pushed the spinner towards him. Sonny got a left foot, blue. He let out a deep breath, slowly inching his foot around your leg so he could hit his spot. Stretched out his leg, he moved even closer to you until his foot landed on a blue spot.

“Y/N?” He stared into your eyes, your noses practically brushed up against each other.

“Sonny,” you whispered, no longer caring about the game. All you wanted in that moment was his mouth on yours.

“It’s your turn,” he licked his lips, eyes darting down to your cherry red pout.

“Sonny?” You interjected again, but he wasn’t listening.

“Can ya’….uh.. reach the spinner or do ya’ need help reaching it. Cause I can uhhh….get it for ya’ or I can just say a color or something. There has to be some rule for when only two people play and can’t reach the spinner,” he nervously rambled on.

“Sonny!”

“Yeah, doll,” his eyes locked with yours, your bodies entwined, breaths mingling as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Shut up and kiss me already,” you softly said.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he craned his neck, “I can do that.” His lips softly brushed up against yours, kissing you slow and sweet. His tongue tentatively moved against your own. Your legs and arms were shaking from holding such an awkward position, but you didn’t care. You moaned, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, so caught up in Sonny and his tender touch, that you lost your balance and fell, taking him down with you.

You both laughed, his body perched on top of yours. “Wait, so does that mean I won?” He chuckled.

“No! You distracted me, Sonny Carisi!” You smacked him on the shoulder. “That game was a draw.”

“Wanna have a rematch?” He said in a husky voice, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m game,” you tugged on his tie, bringing his mouth back to yours. He kissed you with such passion, it took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gently nipping on his bottom lip when you heard someone clear their throat. Turning your head, you saw your coworker, Tony, standing in the doorway.

“Sorry! Just wanted to stop by and see if you needed help with your room but it looks like you got it covered,” Tony blushed, quickly scampering away, leaving you and Sonny alone again.

“That was embarrassing,” you cringed and covered your face.

“Yeah, guess we shouldn’t be making out in the middle of a first grade classroom,” he sat up, offering his hand to help you to your feet as you both put your shoes back on. “I should get going but I would like to take ya’ out on a date. Maybe Saturday night?”

“I’d love that. After all I owe you a rematch in Twister,” your hand found his as he pulled you into another feverish kiss. “You’re a good kisser,” you whispered against his lips, teasingly darting your tongue in his mouth.

“So are you,” he purred. Since your first meeting, Sonny had often wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Now standing there, your lips locked with his, it was better than he ever could have imagined. You were luscious and sweet, intoxicating to him. He kissed you all the way to the door, blindly bumping into desks, until finally letting you go. “Have fun tomorrow. Hopefully Dom will keep the chatter down.”

You snorted a laugh, “From your lips to God’s ears.” He smiled, cupping your face and kissing you one last time before leaving.

You put the game away, moving back to your desk to pack up your things. Your coworker slyly poked his head back into your room, “So does your friend have a brother?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Good night, Tony! I’ll fill you in tomorrow at lunch.”

“You better!” He sang down the hallway.

Finally alone in your room, you leaned back in your chair. Spying the red apple, you smiled to yourself, your lips tingling. If Sonny’s kisses were any indication, then you were going to have an incredible date.

@amirightcounsellor @obfuscateyummy @beltzboys2015-blog @southern-magnolia @letty-o @sweetsummertime99 @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @burningsorr0ws @katmstanton @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @eclecticminded @delia26 @glimmerglittergirl @sweetcannolicarisi @babypink224221 @livxrafa

[fluffyseapancakes]

Can you do one where reader and Peter Parker are dating, and the reader has a panic attack in the middle of the night because of too much stress, and Peter calms her down and cheers her up with tickles? Thx xoxo

I hope you like this!

____________________________

There were only two things that you feared the most than anything else: crowds and dates. When your long-time friend Peter Parker nervously asked you out on a date, your brain screamed out to say no, but for some reason the word “yes” left your mouth. The ecstatic look on his face made you smile and you started to think that it won’t be such a bad idea, until he said the dreaded words, “Let’s go to the amusement park!”

The whole two days that led up to the date was filled with anxiety and huge amounts of stress. The breathing exercises your therapist gave you didn’t help much and the doctor prescribed you anti-anxiety medication which took the edge off, but your chest still felt tight like it was wrapped in a corset. You tried picking up your phone a number of times to cancel the date but you didn’t want to disappoint one of your best friends. Finally, the night of the date arrived and you looked at yourself in the full length mirror studying the outfit you chose to wear. You knew once you saw the crowds, you would start sweating bullets so you decided on a loose fitting shirt and shorts with sandals to match. Your phone chirped and grabbing it, you saw that Peter had texted you.

At your front door with Happy :)

Happy? Tony Stark’s bodyguard? You looked at the text in confusion and grabbed your purse on the way out.

You stepped outside to see Peter standing next to a fancy black car. He waved to you with his signature smile, you could tell he was nervous by the way his legs fidgeted and he kept on fixing his hair.

“You look great Y/N, not that you don’t always look great,” he awkwardly stammered out, holding the car door open for you. You laughed and stepped inside, surprised to see that the interior was roomier than you imagined and a surly looking man was in the driver’s seat. He nodded to you in acknowledgment and Peter climbed in next to you.

“Hey Happy this is Y/N!” Your friend cheerfully exclaimed, you shyly waved at Tony Stark’s bodyguard and he glanced at you from the rear view mirror.

“I see why you never shut up about her,” he chuckled. The tips of Peter’s ears flushed a deep red and he coughed embarrassingly.

“We should get going now, I want to beat the crowd,” Peter said a little too quickly. You sighed in relief and nodded in agreement, yes please beat the crowd.

The commute from your house to the amusement park was only ten minutes, but you and Peter quickly fell into your old routine and chatted happily about the new Star Wars movie and the world’s oldest periodic table poster from 1885 that was recently discovered in Scotland. You didn’t even realize you were nearing the park until Happy mumbled, “Finding parking’s going to be a pain.”

You looked out the window and to your horror saw that the parking lot was already jam packed with cars. Hordes of people were making their way to the entrance, you weren’t even out of the car yet and already you were starting to feel the panic set in. Discreetly you opened up your purse and grabbed one of your anti-anxiety pills from a ziplock bag, you quickly popped it in your mouth and dry swallowed it, wincing at the bitter taste. Peter was too busy surveying the crowd to notice that you were slowly unravelling apart.

Happy ended up pulling up to the entrance of the park and dropped you and Peter off.

“No funny business,” Happy narrowed his eyes at Peter, “call me before you do something stupid again.”

“I will,” Peter groaned. You looked at him in confusion, what did Peter do?

He gently took your hand and guided you to the tickets counter once the black car drove away, his hand was warm and you felt a sense of comfort from his firm grip.

“Sorry about that Y/N, Happy takes his job really seriously,” Peter apologized as he bought enough tickets to get you both through a couple rides. You nodded in understanding and pressed into him as several people brushed up against you.

“I don’t blame him, if Tony Stark was my boss I would do the same thing.”

Peter smiled and led you through the different attractions and rides. The medication you took was definitely helping you get through the worst of it, but as the day went on, you felt your chest getting tighter and tighter and the world around you was spinning like a carousel. Your mouth was extremely dry and all you could do was nod and half-smile at Peter’s jokes.  You needed to get out from the crowds and sit down somewhere, but it seemed like every inch of the amusement park was filled with people.

“Hey Y/N are you ok?” Peter looked at you with concern as he saw you struggling to breathe and your body was shaking uncontrollably.

“I-I need to sit down,” you gasped out. He took your hand and you must’ve blanked out because the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a bench outside of the park. Your lungs begged for air and you slapped your chest in frustration, your whole body was vibrating and you felt like you were dreaming.

Peter sat next to you and gently rubbed your back, “Y/N I’m right here,” he whispered, “you’re safe and I’m not leaving you.”

You focused on his voice and nodded, you felt your heat rate slow down and cool air started to enter your lungs. After what seemed like hours, your breathing returned back to normal and although you felt weak from the adrenaline rush, your anxiety levels had gone down and your mind was clear again. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, looking down at the ground, “I ruined the date.”

“No y/n, I’m the one who should be apologizing, you told me before that you hated crowds and yet I made you come here,” Peter continued to rub your back and he gently pulled back the hair out of your face, “I’m sorry.”

You lifted your head to look at him and slowly he ducked his head down to place a soft kiss on your lips. Smiling into the kiss, you gently deepened it and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter eventually broke the connection, his cheeks were flushed and a goofy grin was stamped on his face.

“How are you feeling now?” He asked, looking at you with great intensity.

“I’m fine, I just feel bad for cutting the date short,” you shrugged. Peter thought for a minute and you saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. Before you could get up and run, he caught you in a tight embrace and scribbled his fingers against your sides. You squealed with laughter and tried to squirm away, but he held you tightly. His fingers found your belly and you cackled and a couple embarrassing snorts escaped from your mouth. Peter laughed and continued to unleash his torturous fingers onto your belly until your laughter turned frantic and you lightly hit his arms. Peter let you go and you collapsed onto his chest in a fit of hysterical giggles. He laughed long with you when his cellphone buzzed in his pocket, he took it out and groaned at the multitude of texts he had missed during the last hour.

“Shit Happy’s freaking out, we should head back.”

You nodded and the both of you headed back towards the entrance of the amusement park. The walk there was quiet and peaceful, with your fingers intertwined with each other. You still had questions running through your mind and you knew Peter was hiding something.

“Why is Tony Stark’s personal bodyguard babysitting you? Aren’t you just interning with him?” You finally broke the silence. Peter chuckled nervously and you felt his hand getting clammy.

“Happy isn’t babysitting me,” he slowly explained, “Mr. Stark saw how hard Aunt May was working so he’s helping out and trying to make things easier for her.”

“That’s awfully nice of him,” you looked at Peter in surprise, “so you’re close to Stark?”

He paused for a minute and finally shrugged his shoulders, “a little, he doesn’t tell me a lot but I trust him.”

One hell of an internship, you thought.

Finally you and Peter found the black car parked outside and climbed into the back seat. Happy did not look pleased and gave Peter a disapproving glare as you two buckled up. Thankfully he didn’t say anything and the ride back home was quiet and comfortable. Happy parked the car in front of your house and Peter led you up to the front door.

“I really did have a good time Y/N,” he smiled, gently cupping your face with his hands and giving you a kiss on the lips.

“Thanks for everything Peter,” you whispered, “thank you.”

After giving each other a kiss goodnight, you headed into your house and collapsed onto your bed. The memories of the date ran through your head like a film and you realized something.

You loved Peter Parker.

But he’s hiding something and judging from how much he’s gone through to hide it, it must be something serious. What is he doing for the Stark internship? Why is Tony Stark interested in a teenager? How did Peter get so physically strong and confident in just a few months? You shook your head as if you were clearing your mind from the questions and you leaned back on your bed, starting at the glow in the dark solar system painted on your ceiling.

You may not know everything about Peter but he was still the caring, goofy, nerdy kid you befriended in elementary school. You trusted him with your whole life and well…

You loved him.

[watergem23]

The Watching Glass

The usual moonlight flickered through the dusty, barred window above the bathroom stalls. It made the plastic stall walls shine like a greased corpse before being buried. A slow drip from the broken faucet below me chimed in with the bullfrogs and incessant crickets outside. A drain covered in mold and rust rested in the center of the floor almost like a small hole about to swallow the world. Stale flyers are taped to the walls with events coming up or lost animal pleas. There was even a missing persons poster of a girl with purple hair and amber eyes who disappeared four nights ago. The air has a slight chill and howls as it hits the door to the public park bathroom where I have been mounted to the wall for so many years. So many different lives have passed through that door and each person comes with a new story.

I have seen slimy faced children with ridiculous, pointed birthday hats attached to their heads walk in and wash their hands below me. Women with screaming children pulling on their shorts while they are being dragged into the bathroom for a much needed spanking. Men bashing through the door while drunk in need to relieve themselves. Their beer bottles smashing to the checkered tile and a slew of gargled curses will typically follow after. Homeless people who wanted a safe place to sleep for the night or to escape the humidity that East Texas is known for. Even lovers who have rushed in and locked the door before fornicating against the wall, on the floor, or in one of the revolting bathroom stalls. A clumsy pair once knocked into me and cracked my smeared, glass surface a little at the bottom, almost literally shattering my world.

The door handle jiggled and a human-sized bee stumbled into the room. A wing dragged behind her on a thin string, her yellow tutu has almost been completely ripped to shreds, and her yellow and black makeup ran down her face with her rushing tears. She has a long-sleeved, black shirt on with yellow stripes running across her torso. Her blonde hair was whipped around her face and her little homemade bee antenna had lost one of its black, puffy balls. Even amongst her wardrobe, it was her eyes that grabbed my attention. I have never seen eyes so full of… fear and anguish. Her black converse squeaked against the tile making a high pitched noise as she swiveled around and dashed into the middle bathroom stall. With a smack of the plastic against the cheap, rusted metal, the little crying bee locked herself in. Her hiccupped sobs radiated from the stall as she pulled her legs up and her feet disappeared from view.

What could this little girl be running from? She didn’t look to be more then 15 or 16 years old. She didn’t look like a runaway but an average trick or treater. Suddenly the crickets outside silenced and a young girl’s voice filled the air causing the bee to stop weeping.

“Oh come on Bianca! Why did you have to go and hide? We were just having a little fun weren’t we?” Sinister laughs rang through the air and the outside door opened once again. This time three girls who looked to be about the same age as the bee, walked into the bathroom. The first one was dressed in a white dress that barely covered her chest and reached down to her mid-thigh. Her dyed, red hair was curled and placed neatly on her head with a white hat on top. The hat had a small red cross on the front. A set of keys adorned her hip that jingled with every step she made into the bathroom with her black high heels. Her slender fingers wrapped around a long syringe in her hand as she tapped it with her blood red nails. The other two girls were dressed as pirates. They looked to be mirror images of each other with their face and their costume. Their raven black hair, eyepatches, and fake parrots on their shoulders, really made the costume.

“Come out, come out wherever you are…,” one of the pirates crooned. A thick click sounded and the bee, nurse, and pirates were locked inside the bathroom. The nurse sauntered over to the sink and leaned over, pushing her face mere inches from my surface. The heat from her breath fogged up a small part of my reflective surface as she reached into the top of her dress and pulled out a small, red tube.

“You know what Hannah?”

The pirate who locked the door looked at the nurse and replied, “What Mallory?”

“I don’t think Bianca wants to be our friend.” She gave a soft pout and watched herself as she reapplied lipstick to her full lips. “What do you think Cassie?”

“I don’t think so either and you know, it is really starting to hurt my feelings Bianca!” Cassie’s fist slammed into the stall door making the whole thing rattle. Good thing for Bianca, the lock held as she gasped in shock. Mallory puckered her lips a few times, fiddled with a few strands of her hair that had fallen out of place, and turned away from the sink. Cassie andHannah stood on either side of the door while Mallory stepped in front.

“Now look Bianca,” Mallory started in a sweet tone, “we don’t want to hurt you. We just want to be friends. Right girls?” Her two henchmen murmured in agreement but had malicious smiles plastered to their faces. “Please, won’t you come out and play with us? We can go trick or treating and TP Mrs. Johnson’s house. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

I silently pleaded with Bianca to stay inside the stall and not come out until these wretched girls had gone. My plea went unheard as Bianca mumbled her shaky response to Mallory, “If…if I come out, you won’t h-hurt me?” Her converse touched down on the tile and her sobs finally subsided.

“Of course we won’t hurt you. After all, we have been best friends since preschool.” The other two snickered to themselves and Mallory shot them warning glances. They clammed up immediately but I could see their eyes held a cruel glint. They were all lying.

“Ok… I am coming out now.” Her voice broke. My last smidgen of hope for her flushed right down the toilet as she pulled the lock back and the door creaked open. Ever so slowly, Bianca opened the door and I could finally she her again. Her head is down and she had removed her headband. It was very clear now why she had come in in such state.

Mallory reached her hand to Bianca’s tear stained face and grasped some strands of her hair. “See we are not going to hurt you.” Mallory’s fingers danced and laced around the strands as she played with Bianca’s hair. Bianca hesitantly stepped forward and looked up to meet Mallory’s eyes. She came to an abrupt stop and all of the color drained from her face. She tried to pull back but Mallory’s fingers tangled and knitted themselves tightly within her hair. She jerked sharply and Bianca came tumbling through the bathroom door, howling in pain.

Bianca caught herself on the sink before she could plummet down to the sticky floor. Her eyes began to tear over again. Her green eyes peered into me, begging me or anyone to save her. The triple threat walked up behind her and closed her in. Mallory shoved Bianca’s face into me and her makeup rubbed off on my surface. She began to scream and cry harder.

“Shut up you stupid cow!” Mallory hissed. “You think you are so much better than us with your good grades and your perfect little life. You think you can just walk all over everyone but news flash, you are worthless. Honestly we would all be so much better off if you were to just D-I-S-A-P-P-E-A-R!” With each letter, Mallory smashed Bianca’s face into my glass. My vision began to fragment and my frame shook dangerously. A large spider web crack spread across my surface as the broken glass cut into her soft face. Several rivulets of blood pooled above her cheek before spilling over and mixing with her tears.

The other girls pulled her away from me and slammed her to the floor. The girls had multiplied through my cracked vision as they slowly circled the hysterical bee strewn across the checkered tile.

Cassie finally spoke up, “You know what we do in our house with bugs Bianca? We smash, squish, and kill them. My favorite part is when they get back up ever so slowly and try to crawl away before I crush them under my foot.” Cassie’s foot began pressing down on Bianca’s head, pushing her face closer and closer to the drain. The gash on her head released crimson blood that flowed over the tile. Her whimpered cries were extinguished by the giggling girls hovering around her. They began kicking her in the stomach, in the back, and in the face. Poor Bianca brought her knees up to her chest and braced her arms around her head.

The beating continued like this and at some point her clothes became shredded. Bruises dotted her arms and legs as she shook uncontrollably on the floor. Finally the girls became tired and relented in their assault. How could these young girls wield so much hate in their hearts for someone who seemed so innocent?

“Well damn,” Hannah whined, looking down at her heels, “She got blood all over my new shoes!”

“Ugh, mine too.” Cassie chimed in. Mallory reached down and tore a sleeve off Bianca’s shirt and used it to wipe the blood stains off her shoes. Bianca’s arm had several lighter colored, almost faint bruises. This wasn’t the first time this girl has been abused. Mallory tossed the bloodied rag back to the half-conscious girl on the floor.

“Well ladies, I think I am done here. I think maybe little Bianca learned her lesson.” Mallory scoffed. The other two nodded in agreement. Mallory knelt down next to Bianca’s blooded head and was amazingly able to keep her balance in her sky-high shoes. “You remember this next time you look our way, or even think about crossing our paths.” With that last bit of spite thrown at her, Mallory spit in Bianca’s face. She pushed herself up to her full height and walked out of the bathroom. The other girl’s heels clicked across the tile as they hurried out after their leader.

Bianca laid there sobbing on the floor in a battered mess. She shook violently as though she were stuck in a freezer. She continued to lay there, crying for what seemed like hours. Her right ankle was bent at a strange angle and it began to swell around the bone. I was so intent on watching her that I did not notice a strange man standing in the doorway until he stepped into the moonlight.

His face was hidden by a solemn, white mask with deep set eye sockets that came down to his cheeks. His grungy facial hair below the mask made him have the same complexion as bigfoot. Ripped clothing covered him from head to toe and were spotted with dark, red stains. Dirty toes peeked out from the holes in his black shoes that were soaked in mud. He stood there watching her for a few minutes, tilting his head this way and that. As he moved closer to the bawling girl, I could see something glinting in his hand. I wanted to scream out to her that he was there. To tell her she was in danger. That this unknown man behind her had a knife. My splintered glass limited me. I could not speak. All I could do was watch.

He bent at the knees behind her, grabbed a fistful of hair, and jerked her up to her knees. Her scream pierced the night as she clawed at his hand holding her up. Her sharp nails bit deep into his filthy flesh. With a feral grunt, he shook her like a dog’s chew toy. Bianca’s eyes rolled back and her head slumped forward. He pulled her head back and began cutting a longtrail on her face from her temple to the tip of her jaw. Blood trickled down the blade before dripping to the blood stained floor.

Her eyes snapped open. She swatted at the man. The knife flew from his hands. It clashed to the floor and skidded over the tile before hitting the far wall. He cursed and smacked her across the face. She fell back to the floor and her head made a sickening crack as it made contact. She landed across the front of the stall opening and her head rolled to the left, facing me. The man clamored on top of the girl, sitting upon her stomach. Her breathing became erratic as she tried desperately to give her body the oxygen it needed. He pinned her arms with the sharp points of his knees, using his full weight to keep her down.

The man reached over and tugged on the old, metal toilet paper dispenser attached to the wall. With a heavy heave, the plastic and screws gave way as he pried the dispenser from the stall wall. Bianca wiggled and squirmed, trying so hard to get away from this man. The man brought the dispenser up high over the top of his head with both hands before bringing it down onto her face. Sharp edges of the metal sliced her cheek and broke her nose. A splatter of blood hit the man in the chest. She continued to scream as he lifted his arms up again and he brought it back down. This time he hit her in the mouth cutting her scream and smashing in some of her teeth. Her legs and arms twitched as he continued to pummel her face in with the now bloodied dispenser. He continued to batter her until there was a clear dent in her skull.

He chunked the dispenser across the room and it clattered to the ground, spraying blood and flesh. Getting up slowly, he worked his way to where the knife landed earlier. He scooped it up in his boney hands and walked back over to Bianca’s body. Pulling a strand of her blood matted hair, he sheared a lock off her head. He reached into his pocket and produced a white, silk ribbon. After tying the strands together, he then pulled out a sliver case from one of his other coat pockets. Once he opened it, I could see three familiar locks of hair lying peacefully inside. The dyed red lock curled and twisted around two raven black locks. They were all coated in fresh blood. A purple cut of hair laid askew in the rear portion of the small case. He carefully placed her lock inside with the others and walked over to me.

His beard contained blood that glistened like red pearls. He turned on the faucet till warm water flowed freely. Reaching behind his head, he removed his mask to reveal his demented green eyes. Looking at the blood spots that covered his mask like a large number of freckles, his lips curled into a wicked smile. He slowly licked the blood off the edges of his mask and closed his eyes as though he were savoring the flavor of the girls’ demise. A moment later he placed the mask back on his face and thoroughly rinsed his hands with soap. After pocketing the knife and the case, he began to whistle a low tune. He casually strolled out the door and back into the chilly October night leaving me and the dead bumble bee behind.

[irwingiggling]

westbrook | pt. 2

[pt. 1 here]

A/N: Here’s part 2, hope you enjoy! xx

Summary: In which Ashton is one of the leaders of the Westbrook Dragons, a gang who often feuds with the Vipers for control of the streets. After hearing of her estranged father’s death, Marina comes to Westbrook to fix up his house and sell it. Coming from a privileged neighborhood, the last thing Marina expects is to move in next door to a gang’s hideout.

Word Count: 2,300+

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mild language.

Marina sat on the uncomfortable, ripped couch, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the dark red paint and dog-eared band posters that littered the walls. The blinds were partially closed, dusty, and an old, peeling gold colour that hadn't been fashionable for decades. One single light, enclosed by an industrial-looking rusted cage, buzzed away loudly in the middle of the room as it struggled to cast even a dim light against its surroundings. Marina sighed, tapping her foot impatiently against the stained carpet. 

"Look, if now is a bad time, I can always come back," she said. Obviously she had no plans to ever come back to this hellhole, but maybe this man would be dumb enough to let her go.

"You're not fucking leaving," he growled menacingly from his seated position near the door.

"Ok," she peeped quietly, gaze shifting to the floor. She couldn't bring herself to say anything more, figuring it would probably be safest to stay silent for the rest of her time in the room. After what felt like hours, she heard the faint growl of a motorcycle pulling up to the front of the house.

"The boss is back," he mumbled, mostly to himself, as he got up from his spot on a ripped leather office chair. "Now you stay right fucking here!" he yelled, pointing a finger at her for good measure as he moved towards the door. "If you move so much as an inch I swear to god I'll know about it. Got it?!"

She nodded quickly, not wanting to anger the scary tall guy any more than what he was already.

"Good." He slammed the door behind himself as he left, emphasizing his point.

She sighed, rubbing her face. How did she even get herself into these situations? Her feet ached from being in the heels, but she didn't dare take them off because she wasn't sure what awaited her. Maybe the opportunity would come where she could make a run for it and call the police? Or maybe she'd be held captive here for weeks?

She pushed those thoughts away and pricked her ears to see if she could listen in to the conversation outside. However, as desperately as she tried, she could only hear muffled voices.

A short while after, she heard two sets of footsteps walking down the hallway towards her. "She's in here," the man from earlier said. At first Marina shrank back as she saw the doorknob jiggle, but then she mentally slapped herself. Get it together, she told herself. You can talk your way out of any situation. Just stay confident and cool, she told herself, releasing the breath she'd been holding in.

At this moment, the door opened and a pair of honey brown eyes locked on hers. She instantly knew they belonged to the same person she'd seen driving by at the funeral. The lead motorcyclist.

He had messy, curly brown hair, and he was tall - at least six feet. A collection of tattoos littered both his left and right arms. He was wearing black skinny jeans, a plain t-shirt, and that familiar leather jacket that everyone seemed to wear around here. He was holding his black motorcycle helmet with his right hand, which he promptly deposited on top of the desk. The collection of chunky rings that he wore stood out to her, but what stood out even more were his fingers themselves. They were average in thickness, but abnormally long. With an inward sigh she thought about all the potential piano talent he'd wasted when he'd decided to take this terrible path in life.

"Hi," he began. He seemed friendlier, yet almost more serious than the man from before. If he wasn't the boss of this gang, he was definitely high up. She could feel the confidence and carefree, yet serious attitude that exuded from him. "I'm Ashton," he said, easily crossing the distance of the room with his long legs. He extended his right hand out towards her.

She nodded, shaking his hand firmly. "Marina," she replied, looking straight into his eyes. It was an assertive techinique she often used at the bank to get customers to believe she knew what she was doing (which she often, though not always, did). She figured it wouldn't work that well on Ashton, due to his dominant personality, but at least it would show him that she wasn't a pushover.

He nodded, chuckling slightly as he leaned back against the scuffed wooden desk, surveying her with his arms folded across his chest. "I have to say this doesn't happen very often. Some girl pushes her way right into our house."

"You own this place?" she asked, looking around skeptically. It didn't seem as though anyone had owned it in a long time.

"Well, not technically. But it's been one of our main bases for a while now."

"So what, you're some kind of gang?" she asked, eyes flitting to the logo that had been cut from a t-shirt material and pasted onto the back of the brown door. The same logo both of them were wearing on their leather jackets.

He smiled lightly, running a hand through his curls. "I guess you could say that. We're the Westbrook Dragons, and we run the streets around here."

"Awesome," she sighed unenthusiastically. "Look, I really didn't come here to chat, and I don't even care what drug deals you guys are doing, even though I'm sure they're super illegal. I just wanted you guys to turn your music down. If you let me go, I'll leave you alone. I just wanna sell my dad's house and get out of here, I'm not planning on staying long."

"Good," he said curtly, picking up on her tone. "Glad to know we won't have any problems with you." He stood up and grabbed the door handle, opening it wide and gesturing for her to exit.

"Really, I can go?" she asked, jumping up, hardly believing her luck.

"Sure. But I'll be watching," he said quietly, staring at her as she passed by him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, staring back at him.

He chuckled lightly, turning his head slightly to examine her. "You'll see."

Well that's just excellent, Marina thought to herself the next morning, sighing as she put in a pair of diamond earrings. She looked at herself in the mirror, tucking a strand of hair behind her right ear just so, and smoothing out her cream blouse and grey pencil skirt. Trust her father to live next door to a drug house - she couldn't even imagine what this would do to the already mediocre property value if word got out.

Her mother had already scheduled to have a realtor visit today to give an initial appraised value. They would also be able to discern what specific updates were needed to get the property to sell the quickest, and at a fair price.

She looked out the window, at the house next door. It was such a huge eyesore, she sighed. In fact, at that moment, she saw a man loading a duffel bag filled with god knows what onto the back of a motorcycle, before speeding off. She groaned. This was really not what she needed right now. If the realtor saw that, it was an instant price slash. She decided there was only one thing to do. She'd mostly recovered from her traumatic first encounter with the neighbours last night, and decided there was no harm in going back and giving them a piece of her mind. She’d be damned if she let some lowlife gang members screw up her business plan.

She knocked on the front door loudly, and quickly took 10 steps back, taking care to avoid the collection of motorcycles and dilapidated cars that scattered the driveway. No way was she standing close enough to be dragged into that dungeon again. The door opened shortly after, and the same guy with the colourful hair opened it.

He smirked, amused at the distance she'd created between herself and the house.

"Don't fucking try that shit on me again, buddy. I'm staying well away from you."

He looked at her with a half-smirk, leaning against the door frame.

"I came over to tell you and the rest of your gang to keep it presentable around here. I'm having a real estate agent come by later today, and I don't want any drug deals or other weird shit going on, alright? I'm sure you're not aware, but disclosing that your house is beside a gang doesn't exactly increase your property value," she said, crossing her arms. "And the sooner that house is sold, the sooner I'm out of your hair."

"Is that it?" he yawned, looking disinterested.

"I'm serious. I'm not scared of you guys, if that's what you think."

He actually laughed at her. "I don't think you even know the half of what we're capable of. Our boss was feeling very forgiving when he let you go, but next time you might not be so lucky..." he trailed off, moving the hem of his flannel shirt back as he rested his hand on his hip, exposing what looked suspiciously like a gun tucked into his belt.

She stood there, trying to keep her cool demeanour. Of course she was scared. She was scared shitless. Her all-girls private school didn't exactly prepare her for how to negotiate with armed drug dealers. She sent him as menacing of a glare as she could muster, and, figuring it was better to keep her mouth shut at this point, she turned on her heel and walked briskly back up the driveway.

"There," Marina said to herself with a satisfied smile as she set the last vase of flowers down on the kitchen table. After her second encounter with the Dragons' security, she'd spent the rest of the morning grocery shopping - since she was going to be living here for a little while, she might as well make herself at home. She also got her mother's recommendation for one of the nicest flower shops around Westbrook. She knew how much some flowers and house plants could spruce up a place, and even though she realized the house wasn't the nicest - a far cry from her mother's estate, or even their whimsical summer cottage on the lake - she still wanted to make a good first impression with the realtor, all the same.

It was now just 10 minutes from when the realtor was scheduled to show up. She took one last look around the entire place, making sure she'd done all the cleaning she needed to, and that all the flowers and plants were positioned perfectly. She heard a knock at the door and froze. He was early! She quickly trotted over to the door, heels clacking loudly against the weathered hardwood floor.

She fixed her hair one last time, and put on a large, approachable smile, before opening the door.

Her expression quickly fell when she saw who was actually there. None other than the gang leader from yesterday, Ashton, stood on her doorstep. This time he was wearing his leather jacket around his waist, paired with some black skinny jeans and a cutoff muscle tee. He took the pair of round sunglasses from his face, and peered down at her.

She wasn't sure how you greeted a gang member, so she stayed silent, keeping her hand firmly against the door so it only opened part way.

The first sentence that left his mouth was not what she was expecting to hear. "Why do you wear those fucking heels all the time?" he asked, staring down at her feet.

She scoffed lightly, instantly offended at his choice to ridicule her footwear. "Because I'm a lady. I have to look presentable. What do you think the world would be like if we all walked around in leather jackets and scuffed boots?" she asked rhetorically.

Ashton narrowed his eyebrows, looking down at the leather jacket that rested against his hips.

She sighed. "I just meant-"

"Oh. Trust me, I know exactly what you meant," he said sharply.

"Look," she began, mirroring his tone. "I'm not hear to cause trouble. I'm just here to fix up the house, sell it, and leave. Believe me, I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here."

"Glad to hear, princess."

She rolled her eyes at his childish response. This Ashton guy was definitely getting on her nerves. "Look, I have a realtor coming in 10 minutes, and I can't have you anywhere near here," she snapped, giving him a shove.

The side of his mouth quirked up into a half-smirk, like he found her actions funny. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning forwards, causing one of his unruly curls to fall against his forehead. "Well you'll be happy to know that I just came over to tell you that, like I said yesterday, I'll be watching. For as long as you're here, I'll be coming over unannounced to make sure you're keeping your promise."

"What promise?" she demanded, crossing her arms against her chest.

"That you'll be keeping our location secret, and that you won't be telling any of your little friends from your hometown, especially your mom, what's going on here."

"How- how do you know about my mom?" she asked, her stony expression faltering.

He smirked, knowing he had her.

"Let's just say I... have my sources," he replied, staring at her intimidatingly.

Now she stared fiercely back, meeting his gaze. "Well fuck you too," she said bluntly. "I haven't done anything to you and now you're threatening my family?" she demanded, voice rising with every word.

He flashed her an annoyingly calm smile and a nod. "You have a good day now, Marina," he said, putting his sunglasses back on and turning away.

She let out a noise that sounded like an angry growl, and slammed the door closed. She was furious at this guy, and how he seemed to know how to push all of her buttons.

Meanwhile, Ashton smirked as he walked down the porch steps. This girl had some serious lady balls, even if she was a total prude.

[read pt. 3 here]

[them-stony-boys]

“How should we tell them?”

Hey so I’m peeved about not being clever and coming up with anything good for my baby boy’s birthday (Tony if you live under a rock and didn’t know) but for the glorious occasion of June descending upon us I thought a good old fashioned gay fic is in order.  First one I’m posting of stony ever so please be gentle. (Also I’m going to my first Pride this year so I have no idea how they work so I’m sorry) This is crack I finished this in like three hours (a sporadic three hours) and the end is super rushed and I’m sorry for this. I swear I have better stuff line up.

“How should we tell them?”  

Steve stops smearing pink, purple, and blue face paint down his cheek. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I think we should come clean and tell the team about, you know, us.”  

Steve let’s his hand finish its trek down his face before wiping his hand on a rag.  “What do you mean?”

“Like, they’re our friends, our family, so I think we should come clean.”  

Steve pulls a dark blue muscle tee over his head, letting Tony continue to talk. 

“And since it’s me and this is kind of a big deal I thought why not do something extravagant.”   

Steve raised an eyebrow as he sat in front of Tony, bringing his little face paint pallet with him.  He started on the rainbow across Tony’s cheek as he continues to ramble.

“Maybe go to Paris and send them a picture of us kissing at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”  

“Tony.” 

“Or we should get a cake a huge cake a three tier one, the top one would be frosted blue.”

“Tony.”

“The middle one would be rainbow and the bottom one would be blue.  And I’m sure you get what I’m saying.  It’d be hallowed out maybe, if we wanted to be really extra-”

“Tony.” 

Steve swiped the last purple stripe across his cheek. He then leveled Tony with The Look.  

“Hm?”  Was Tony’s responded as he looked at his boyfriend, trying and failing to match his gaze.  

“We could just tell them.  You know, with our words.” 

Tony’s mouth twisted.  “You’re no fun.” 

“Come on,” Steve said as he stood, running his hand through Tony’s hair, smearing it with purple and blue and green, “we’re going to be late.”  

“Yeah yeah.” Tony stood and stretched and Steve couldn’t help but look him over appreciatively.  Tony wore a white tank with “Love Wins” written in rainbow font across the front and booty jean shorts barley an inch below the perfect curves of his ass.  Rainbow face paint was smeared horizontally across his left cheek, bi colors on his right.  Tony looked over his shoulder and Steve tried to look elsewhere before Tony could say anything.  But Tony noticed.  Tony smiled as he swayed his hips.  “You like what you see?”  

Steve rolled his eyes.  “Oh shush, you.”  

Tony pulled Steve up and raked his eyes over Steve.  He was wearing a dark blue muscle tank with his shield on it, the red white and blue pattern replaced with the bisexual flag colors, and cargo shorts. Tony wanted him to wear something a little...shorter, but Steve refused. 

“Are you ready to go?”  Steve asked as his hands settled on Tony’s hips.

“Yeah yeah let’s go.”  Tony said as he pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away,  walking toward the elevator, Steve in tow, headed for the garage.

---------------------------(Watch for the cut)----------------------------

Steve and tony’s relationship may be a secret but Tony Stark’s sexuality isn’t.  Tony decided to tell the world after driving by a gathering of homophobic protesters, Tony breaking out his phone and leaning out the window screaming “I love sucking (insert profane genitalia)!” 

It trended for a month.

 Of course there was backlash but the avengers defended Tony tooth and nail, as did half the internet.  

But when Tony asked Steve to pride Steve had no idea what to expect, he’s never even heard of it before.  

“Oh it’s just a gathering of people celebrating who they are.  Real fun time.” That was Tony’s explanation of it.  A very understated truth Steve realized upon arriving.  There were people and rainbows everywhere, people were smiling and laughing as Tony pulled Steve through the crowd. 

Every so often Steve would hear whispers of ‘is that Tony Stark?!’ ‘dude that’s Captain America!’  Sometimes he would feel someone touch his bicep or tug his shirt, occasionally he’d hear a squeal after. 

They’d walk through the parade, something swelling in his chest as he looked around him and took everything in.

It was going so smoothly that Tony half expected some alien to come along and destroy it.  But no the only hiccup was Steve forgot what Tony told him on the way there, ‘don’t interact with the protesters.’   

Steve had somehow slipped away from Tony when he noticed a protester in the corner with a poster with him on it.  Steve moved through the crowd as he picked up on their conversation. 

“-and what makes you think Steve Motherfuken Rogers is homophobic?” 

“Dude was born and raised in the forties, he’s got values and he’s Captain America-!”

“Do you not watch press conferences?” A girl asks, “Did you not see him defend the ever living hell out of Tony Stark?” 

“He probably does it because the man pays for everything and doesn’t wanna get cut off for speaking his mind.  A damn shame if you ask me.” 

“Yeah well nobody asked you-”

“I mean Stark is a pussy ass fairy like you all, dude shouldn’t even be an avenger.”

By this point Steve has managed to push his way through the crowd, stopping on the edge of the little circle surrounding the protestor.  Steve towered over the teens in front of him, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the poster with his image on it. It was light blue with him standing at attention with the phrase ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA IS NOT OK WITH YOUR SIN’ in big block letters.  

“I’m sorry what were you saying about Tony Stark?” 

The man scanned Steve, his eyes falling to the symbol on his chest.  Steve took a step closer and the man swallowed.  He tried to gather himself. “You can’t be serious.”

Steve clenched his jaw and looked down at the man in question.   “Take it down and leave these people alone.”

The man scoffed, “Or what?”  

Steve moved to take a step forward with his fists clenched, “Do you want to find-”

“Woah there big guy.” Tony said as he grabbed Steve’s elbow, “let’s not get arrested.” 

“How about you come back when you haven’t been corrupted by a fag like Tony Stark.”  

“Who in the hell-!?” 

“Steve don’t!”  Tony pulled him back, Steve needing to remember his own strength.  

Tony had managed to pull him away, promising the protester that there’d be lawsuits if he didn’t take down the poster (”you can’t do that!” “The image of Captain America is owned by the avengers, which is funded by Stark Industries, aka me.”) The group perviously surrounding the poster asked for pictures, which they gladly gave.  

They continue on their way, the incident nearly forgotten about.  At some point as they walk through the crowd that was the Pride Parade, they ended up walking along side of a float with people on it yelling various phrases and riling up the crowd.  Apparently someone on the float recognized them.

“Mr. Stark?  Mr. Stark!”  Tony looked up, a smile quickly growing on his face.  

“Yeah?!”  He yells over the noise. 

“Mr. Stark will you join us up on here, say a few words?”  The crowd cheered in response.

“How could I say no?” 

Tony, with the help of the people on the float, climbed up on the float, taking the microphone.  It was hard to hear what he was saying as every other word was drowned out by cheers, something about pushing through and showing the world that it’s ok to be who you are, etc.

At the end of it Tony had coached down and grabbed Steve’s bicep and started to pull on it.  “-and,” he said as Steve climbed up, “I just want you to know,” he looped his arm with Steve’s, that the avengers are on your side.  Be Proud and stay Proud!” He finished as he turned to Steve, wrapping his arms around his neck and dipping them both as he kissed Steve.  Steve was quick to respond, settling his hands on Tony’s hips. 

Best Pride ever.

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

Steve and Tony stepped out of the elevator the next morning late for breakfast.  Last night they discussed how they would tell the team about their relationship, Steve’s method winning out.  Everyone was gathered around the table, about a dozen different conversations going on at once.  Steve cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.  They all quieted down, looking over at the two.

“Tony and I have something we need to tell you all.” They exchange a glance before they look back at the group, everyone looking at them expectantly.  

“Tony and I...” Steve grabs Tony’s hand, “are in a relationship. Romantically.”  

Everyone looked at them, then at each other.  “Yeah we know.”  Was Natasha’s response.  

“What how?”  Tony asked.

Clint, who’d gone back to looking at his phone, grabbed a remote and flicked on the tv without looking up from his screen.  He flipped it to a random news channel and the first thing that appeared was a picture of the two kissing on top of a pride parade float.  Clint flipped to another channel, the same picture was situated behind a panel of people talking.  Clint repeated this process several times and finished with “It was all over the internet yesterday, all over the news this morning.”

Natasha looked over her shoulder, “Bruce you owe me money!”   

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.  He should’ve gone with the cake.

Hi yea I know it’s rushed I have way better stuff lined up this was just that gay thing I wanted to put out for June so here it is. (Sorry for this rushed thing I don’t know why this happened)