#more than a red pen (felicity)

[sea-owl]

Spring's Rebirth Epilogue

AO3 Link: Here

Penelope giggled as she twirled around the poppy field dancing with others as the muses play. The sweet pomegranate wine Michael had made just for her wedding celebration was keeping her warm. Actually she could use another glass. Oh there's her friends!

As Penelope moved her way through the crowd she was greeted with many "My Lady," and "Your Majesty." She honestly kinda missed the time when these immortals used to ignore her. At least she could get through a damn crowd faster!

Breaking free Penelope plopped herself next to Phillip who was growing ginger. Penelope's hand glowed green as she added her own magic to the plant, bumping up the potency. If Penelope had to guess Kate and Sophie needed it.

Penelope's guess proved true when the lily nymph and demigoddess muttered their thanks and took huge bites.

"Are your headaches that bad today?" Simon asked.

"Yes," Kate groaned while Sophie only nodded. "So unfair you don't get headaches anymore Pen. What's the secret?"

"Honestly they stopped when I connected with the Underworld," Penelope replied. "Maybe if you got married yourselves they'll stop."

Kate snorted while Sophie playfully rolled her eyes.

"Oh and who should we marry Penelope?" Sophie asked playfully.

The small redhead glanced from her friends to her brother in-laws. "I mean the royal cure got rid of my headaches."

Kate made the face she always makes when someone mentions the High King in her presence. Sophie's face flushed red. The boys just laughed.

-

In the same grace as her sister Felicity plopped herself next to Hyacinth, who by the request of Penelope was not isolated away in corner with all her siblings.

"Felicity?" Hyacinth asked hesitantly.

It had been months, almost a year since Felicity made her vow not to speak to Hyacinth. Despite Hyacinth missing her friend it never felt right to approach her.

"Hey Hy," Felicity said, resting her head on Hyacinth's shoulder. "I missed you."

The old nickname loosened some of the tensions in Hyacinth's shoulders while hope began to creep into her chest. Taking a breathe Hyacinth said, "I missed you too. I thought you didn't want to see me anymore."

Felicity shook her head. "No, I didn't want to see you until I saw my sister again." The nymph pointed at her sister. "I see her and I'm going to be seeing a lot of her since I'm going with her to the Underworld. So now I'm here to see you too."

"I missed you," Hyacinth repeated. "I missed my friend and I'm so sorry for keeping the truth from you all those months ago."

Felicity lifted her head, now fully looking towards the moon goddess. "A part of me is still angry you hid that secret, but I find I miss you more than I am angry at you. Come visit me in the Underworld within the next six months? I know Penelope would like to see you too."

Hyacinth laughed. "Of course, we have to make sure there's no funny business going on with the new couple!"

Felicity laughed. "Speaking of new couples, I got money that the High King is the next one to get married."

Hyacinth burst into giggles. "Anthony? With that stick up his butt? Nah I'm betting on Daphne."

Gregory's voice was heard from behind. "I agree with Felicity and I want to add extra on that Anthony is gonna marry Kate."

Hyacinth rolled her eyes while Felicity laughed. "That's just your wishful thinking Greg."

-

"King Colin may I speak with you privately?" Lady Portia asked.

Colin nodded and offered his arm. While he may not get along with his mother in-law Penelope still loves her and for that he will at least try.

"Penelope is to return to the Underworld for the next six months," Portia said simply.

Colin nodded. "Yes."

Portia sighed. "I will be honest I may never truly stop mourning for her and how she came to be your wife. You broke the innocence all my daughters had before this, and that I will probably mourn until the end of time."

"You plan to let the Earth wilt again?" Colin asked.

Portia shook her head. "Not entirely, I'm not a monster, just a mother grieving. Penelope has developed plants that will grow in the cold. My fields shall be filled with those."

Colin paused. He turned to take in the agriculture goddess' face. For as long as he has known his mother's friend she has had a hard edged exterior, known to pick herself back up and push forward. Looking at her now Colin would probably describe her as tired and maybe a little bit numb.

"I am not sorry for marrying my wife," Colin eventually said. "But I am sorry for causing your pain."

Portia sighed. "So long as my daughter is happy I shall be okay."

-

"Michael I must congratulate you on this wine," Penelope said as she sipped her glass.

"And I must congratulate you on making a new fruit to make wine out of. We must really collaborate again, next time with Phillip too!" Michael said. "And of course throwing this fabulous wedding so I could finally make one of my friends wedding wine." Michael turns to the rest of their group pointing a finger at all of them. "One of you needs to hurry up down to the altar now so I can make more wedding wine!"

The group of friend's burst out laughing. Some making jokes about how two of them should take one of for the team so Michael gets his wish.

Simon eventually looks out into the crowd. "Uh oh. Pen you may want to go save your husband from your mother."

Penelope looked behind her and indeed her husband and her mother were off talking to one another. Neither looked ready to throw the other in the mud. But they've only been frosty to each other at best since Penelope started dividing her time between the Earth and the Underworld. Not that she thinks either would purposely cause drama at her wedding but best to safe than sorry.

Penelope stood, her legs a little shaky from the wine. Thankfully Phillip steadies her.

"Here I'll escort you over Penny," Phillip said offering his arm.

Penelope wine giggled. "Thank you Pip."

"Will you be part of the escort down into the Underworld after the celebration?" Penelope asked as they begin their walk.

"But of course," Phillip said. "Guiding any soul into the Underworld is part of my job."

Penelope nodded. She paused, but soon continued. "I shall need a right hand now that I'm officially coming back as Queen of the Underworld. One that can travel with me up and below."

"Yes you will," Phillip agreed.

Penelope looked at Phillip. Phillip looked at Penelope. Penelope raised an eyebrow and Phillip's eyes widened.

"You couldn't just let me be a hermit in my forest?" He groaned.

Penelope burst into giggles. "There's no one I rather have Pip."

Phillip groaned again. "'And you break out the nicknames Penny."

Just as they reached Colin and Portia Phillip gave Penelope's arm an affectionate squeeze. Portia hugged her daughter before accepting Phillip's offer to lead her back to Lady Mary and the Dowager Queen Violet.

Colin wrapped his arms around Penelope. "So did Phillip accept his new position?"

"He did," Penelope said. "And did you decide which of your siblings you're gonna play matchmaker for when I come back up in six months?"

Colin grinned. "I did! Don't you think Anthony and Kate would make a beautiful couple?"

"Oh you will need all six months to plan for that."

Colin pulled Penelope closer. "Or I can spend the next six months with my beautiful wife."

Penelope blushed as Colin pulled her in for a kiss. The sound of the crowd of wedding guests she had forgotten about cheering around them.

Beneath them the red light of the poppies glowed brighter.

[aldbooks]

I think of all the established couples I’ve seen likened to Gwynriel, the one I think most fits the dynamic and path I think these two will take is Olicity from Green Arrow

When Oliver and Felicity first meet, he’s this mysterious, playboy playing at vigilante with a serious chip in his shoulder and a complex, who thinks he can do it all by himself. Then he comes to Felicity for her particular expertise on something and she’s this young, quirky, woman who sees through his bs when he tries to charm her but helps him anyway.

Once she realizes what he’s gotten himself into, she jumps into help him and is all for it (mostly) until he takes things a bit too far and she calls him on it. Ultimately he respects her for it and they grow into a genuine partnership and friendship where they push each other and support each other and truly care for one another, each of them growing in their own way because of the other.

They protect each other, they teach each other, comfort each other, and love each other unconditionally, and inevitably, realize that there’s something between them that can’t be denied anymore.

One of my favorite Olicity scenes is from their first official date. Felicity reflects on the first time they met and mentions how she had been chewing on a pen and Oliver smiles and says “it was red” ”…yes it was”. Just this adorable moment where Felicity (and the viewer) realizes that he’s always noticed her, even when she thought he didn’t.

Right from the beginning these two have chemistry even when it’s just platonic. They banter, they tease, they flirt, they’re playful. They’re also more than willing to duke it out when necessary.

When they finally get together (and even before then) they have the most amazing combination or tender and hot af moments. Like seriously he holds her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

This is what I want to see from them. This organic, gradual buildup with push and pull and a clear connection that makes them both stronger.

[carnivorousyandeere]

Wait a minute, did I remember to ask for possessive/jellous headcanons for the librarian, Felicity? (Dyslexia hates this name /lh) if nit I simply must! A librarian cat has ti be an interesting person when jealous!

Also hi! Hope you're doing well after the while sick thing

Also got cowgirl brainrot, but thats for later ;3c

Thank you, Alice~! I’m doing much better now. Hope you’re doing well, too ☺️ (You can also call her Fee or Fifi, if it helps any— she’d be over the moon to receive a cute nickname from her Darling~)

Felicity is an incredibly shy and skittish person, the type of yan who quietly follows her Darling for at least a few months before she even thinks of trying to speak to them. Especially when you’re in the library she works at— Felicity’s heart races every time you come in. She follows you throughout the building, keeping just a few shelves’ distance between you, trying not to hyperventilate at your closeness.

And the whole time, her jealousy eats her alive.

Every time you need help finding something in the library, and she’s too shy to offer to help, she grits her teeth and clenches her fists until her nails or cat claws dig into her palms, watching as one of her coworkers helps you instead. Felicity will use her jobs as a way to follow you— if you frequent a different library or bookstore, she’ll apply there instead. And she follows you outside of work, too, a jealous and silently-seething shadow you can never quite get a good look at.

Felicity had really only taken the position as a librarian to pay rent and fill time. Her real passion lies in writing. Throughout the first few weeks of following you, she manages to write novel-length romantic adventures with you and her as the leads— saving each other from dragons and loveless engagements to other people— but as time wears on, and her sleepless nights stretch on to write and watch you sleep, her pen slows.

Fee isn’t much for technology, barely tolerating the old desktops of the library and the one in her house that she uses to finalize manuscripts. Her writing is contained in notebooks upon notebooks, red and pink cursive filling the pages with a passionate slant. The longer she watches you, sees you interacting with other people, the more her stories begin to include the suffering she wishes would befall anyone else who gets too close to you. She fills pages upon pages of wishing those others were dead in the dirt for daring to disgrace your mind with their empty words and lay their filthy hands on your perfect form. She doesn’t deserve you— but neither do they.

Other pages are simply filled with your name, scrawled over and over again, increasingly messily.

One day she breaks down, thinking of the way you’d smiled at someone else yet again. Her pen breaks from her grip, ink soaking into the pages of her beloved notebook. Felicity sobs once, then twice, tears plopping onto the already ruined pages. Her claws tear at the edges of the notebook. She finds that she can’t write much at all for a while after that, even with a new notebook.

She wishes you would just smile at her like that, just once. Then she would be satisfied— not like those other greedy people, who steal so much of your time and attention.

But of course, one smile and one moment could never truly be enough for her, either.

~~~~

Felicity is not the type to confront her rivals directly. Mostly, she will write about them dying in increasingly horrible ways with that morbid enthusiasm of hers, then write you and her living happily ever after, opting to stay in a beautiful fantasy world rather than confront reality. That won’t satisfy her jealousy forever, though. She’s the type to begin to stalk people close to you, too, and she’ll begin to blackmail them and leave them threatening letters to get them to stay away from you. Even though she feels she can’t have you, that she doesn’t deserve you, she can certainly make sure that nobody else can have you either.

[loveseternla]

name:    penelope featherington    monikers:    pen.    titles:    miss penelope featherington    age:    twenty two.    birthdate:    april eight.    orientations:    heterosexual  &  heteroromantic.   gender:    woman.    pronouns:    she    +    her.    place    of    birth:    london , england.    location:    mayfair,    england.    faceclaim:    nicola coughlan.    height:    five foot.    hair    colour:    red.    eye    colour:    blue.    family:   archibald featherington & portia featherington nee taylor , prudence , philippa & felicity featherington .

sisters   that   taunt   &   tease   ,   a   mother   seeking   profitable   marriages   for   her   daughters   &   a   father   with   an   addiction   that   causes   more   trouble   than   it’s   worth   ,   penelope   featherington   was   just   a   girl   ,   striking   red   hair   &   eyes   the   colour   of   the   sea   ,   much   preferring   to   read   her   stories   then   fall   into   her   mothers   matchmaking   hands.

constantly   lingering   in   the   shadows   of   her   more   attractive   (   deemed   by   herself   &   said   sisters   )   allowed   pen   the   opportunity   to   admire   (      &   of   course,   seek   information   that   wouldn’t   often   be   given   freely   )   the   pretty   debutantes   ,   but   she’s   always   been   subdued   ,   while   laughing   at   the   thought   of   marriage   ,   if   only   to   appease   her   friends   ,   she’d   grown   accustomed   to   the   thoughts   that   a   suitor   would   certainly   not   seek   her   out   ,   but   that   allowed   her   room   for   other   things.

[theloftpoetry]

Taylor Swift

I'm like Taylor Swift.  Shit. Everything I write has to be in Red because apparently blue pen isn't good enough for me. It never will be. I can't let myself underline your name in blue cos it hurts too much.

I knew this was going to be trouble yet it still feels like there's a bullet going straight through my heart but the old Carly isn't dead yet cos I don't have the guts to pull the trigger and put this all to an end. 

Instead the guns in your hands, because you already knew the bad blood between us is about other guys. Other guys who mean nothing to me.

I look at them the way Taylor Swift looks at Jay-z. So do you really think I’m going to look at them the way I look at you? Because I look at you the way she looks at Joe Alwyn or Calvin Harris I would name drop taylor Lautner but you’ve never seen twilight  So you won’t understand it when I say I’m team Dan instead of Jacob or Edward.

There’s no real competition You mean more to me than…. Cheesy chips You mean more to me than the arrow, the flash, felicity, Don Lockwood, Eponine, Mark Cohen, Brad, Janet, Mia and Sebastian, Lorde TAYLOR FREAKIN SWIFT. You even mean more to me than quadball.

The point I’m trying to make here is that you mean more to me than all of my favourite things. 

Lions and tigers and bears oh my,  If you don’t get that you can’t rid of me by now then there’s no hope  because I can't live without you.

And while you're sat there questioning everything, I'm here wondering when you’ll wake up and realise that what your looking for is standing right infront of you. 

All you have to do is stay. 

Because we are never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever breaking up.

Not in your wildest dreams. 

[morethanweseem]

continued from here for @caudexiism

"Oh, right it’s my birthday,” he replied as he took the gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Felicity smiled, fully expecting him to say that.  “Well I know you could afford anything you wanted but it’s just a little -- well it’s silly, I guess?  I was going to get you a book but then I was like, what book? Definitely not Robinson Crusoe or the Island of Dr. Moreau.  And then I thought something useful, but you seem to be covered on bows and stuff.  But you know, you could always use a good multitool smart card.  Fits right in your wallet and it doesn’t really draw any attention so you can carry it around when you’re not suited up if you need to do any...sleuthing. When you’re not being all...” She gestured at his face.

[morethanweseem-a]

“It’s nothing.” Ray Palmer from Felicity

continued from here for @superhumanheros

Ray runs over to Felicity and helps her to the couch. “Felicity this is not nothing who did this to you because they are dead meat.” He might be serious this time normally Ray is a calm person who hates the idea of killing but when someone hurts people he loves that flies out the window especially when it’s this bad. “Hold on let me get you my nanotechnology or a hospital or both.” He was shaking from both madness and from fear cuts can heal but bruises are nothing to mess with.

Felicity winced a smile at Ray’s concern, the torn strap of her purse clutched in a tight wrap in her fist.  “They’re already regretting it, I promise.”  She pressed her finger against her cheek and hissed.  She’d fought back pretty well, thanks to some hits Sara had taught her, and the mace.  She looked up at him from where she sat, smiling at him and finally letting out her tension, the bag dropping to the ground and her shoulders loosening.  “It was just some jerks trying to get my purse.  I really am fine.”

[pixiebuggiewrites]

A spilled coffee and a chance encounter

Valentines drabble exchange piece for @zorua-adorable you put that you liked soulmate au, meet-cutes, and coffee shop au’s so i kinda did a sort of hybrid of the 3 hope you like it!!

Big thanks to @eat0crow for setting this whole thing up!!

Wordcount:1103

Marinette was running on 2 hours of sleep. Again.

She had a busy schedule okay? Balancing ESMOD classes, commission work, and searching for Lila Rossi aka Hawkmoth 2.0 took up a lot of time. So sometimes she just had to make up the sleep deficit with caffeine.

Ah yes, whether she was knee deep in fabric or dealing with an akuma at 2 am, coffee was always there to help her through. And after pulling such a late night finishing assignments, she needed some desperately.

Too bad her roommate hid all of her coffee. 

Adrien had claimed that it was "for her own good" and that he was "saving her from an early grave" like the both of them weren't basically demigods after so many years of miraculous exposure. Well, she had been wanting to try the small café she always passed by anyways. This just the perfect opportunity.

Doesn't mean she's not getting back at Adrien though.

                                                          ----------

Marinette stepped into the café and took a deep inhale at the pleasant aromas of coffee beans and fresh pastries.

Despite the small shops location and the time of day, coupe du destin was fairly uncrowded. There was a very inviting aura about the place, reminding her of the many days spent at Fu's old tea shop as a teen. While someone had been leaving as she entered, besides that there was only one other customer in the café.

She was thankful that she wouldn't have to deal with the usual morning rush line, especially since there only seemed to be one person working. It was a girl who seemed to be a couple years younger than Marinette with a smile that put the sun to shame, and she was saying that as someone who knew Adrien Agreste.

The young lady at the counter, Felicity according to her name tag, smiled at her. 

"Welcome to coupe du destin! What can I get for you today?" She greeted with enthusiasm

After ordering herself a caffe mocha, Marinette watched as the lively barista flew between machines and equipment creating her beverage, she honestly wasn't sure if the girl knew what she was doing, maybe it was her first day? Eventually the barista came back over to the counter with the finished drink.

Of course though that's when things got just a touch odd

After paying for her drink, the barista looked to be analyzing her. Though It was almost as if she was looking through her, straight into Marinette's soul.

Now if she were anyone else, she probably would have been more creeped out by something like that. But she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Guardian of the Miraculi and heroine of Paris. Honestly this didn't even make top three for weird things she's seen this week. It also helped that the girls analytic gaze reminded her of Luka. She still wasn't sure whether or not he was a meta of some sort or if he just like that, but this barista had the same look in her eyes as when Luka would figure out somebody's heartsong.

She could only hope that the girl wasn't about to pull a guitar out from under the counter.

After the peculiar girl had been studying her for a minute she stopped and broke into another wide grin with a newfound gleam in her eye.

Thankfully the barista did not at this point pull out a guitar, instead having grabbed a red pen from a mason jar next to the register and quickly drawing something on something on the cup before handing it to Marinette.

The drawing was of a robin.

After paying, Marinette finally got to try her coffee. Marinette took a sip and... it was the best coffee she had ever had. She was definitely making this her go-to café from now on. And if Adrien kept hiding her home supply, she would likely soon be a regular.

She wouldn't get to finish her heavenly coffee though, apparently being a superhero for nearly a decade had not made her any less accident-prone. As she turned around to leave the shop, she walked right into a man who was getting up from his seat and spilled her coffee all over both of them.

Only one other customer in the café, and she somehow managed to run right into the guy. So much for having the goddess of luck in her purse.

She finally got a good look at the guy. He was about her age, maybe a year or two older, but that could just be how tired he looked, somehow he seemed even more exhausted than her which was quite the feat. Other than looking like he was gonna pass out any minute, he was quite attractive. Like her, he had black hair and blue eyes, Though his eyes were more of a gunmetal than her shade of bluebell. Average height, and very well built. And his suit…

Oh sweet Tikki she was so dead. That suit was designer, it can't have cost less than somewhere in the quadruple digits. And she spilled coffee all over it. She was so screwed.

This guy was probably loaded and she ruined his suit and now he's gonna ruin her. He was gonna sue her for all she's worth and she'll have to fake her death and go live all alone in Tibet and her only company will be Tikki and a hamster named-

"Are you okay?" The man before her asked, with a concerned look that managed to break her out of her catastrophizing. While her spirals had gotten better as she got older (and a therapist), evidently the lack of sleep was bringing them out in full force today.

"I'm so sorry! I should have been paying better attention to where I was going." Her mouth finally caught up with her brain as she began apologizing.

The man began to reassure her "Don't worry about it, it was just as much my fault. I am sorry about your coffee though, could I buy you a new one?"

Oh yeah her coffee, about half the cup was lost in the collision. "Oh no it's fine, if anything I should be offering to pay for your dry cleaning considering I totally ruined your suit."

"Really it's fine, plus I'm getting myself another anyways."

Well if a cute guy was gonna offer her free coffee who was she to refuse?

"You know in that case I might just take you up on that offer…"

"Tim."

"Nice to meet you Tim, my name's Marinette."

Neither of them noticed the ladybug drawn on Tim's empty cup.

[dc41896]

Mixed Signals

Pairing: college!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: One text from your boyfriend nearly wrecks your night

⚠️: Slight suggestive content, mentions of virginity, a very awkward yet hilarious (at least I hope it comes across as that) moment, fluff!

Stomach turning and heart racing, it’s hard to focus on the math problems in front of you with what’s spiraling in your head.

Ever since “My roommate’s out of town, you know what that means😉” flashed across your screen, you’ve been slightly confused and on edge. And your friend’s response after you sent her the screenshot didn’t make you feel any better.

“Not trying to pry, but have you guys....you know... yet?,” she asked over lunch in the courtyard.

“No..why you think that’s what he means?”

“I mean I’m not sure, but I know when my boyfriend sends the winky face it typically means we’re not getting any work done,” she grins to herself before taking a sip of her soda.

You, on the other hand, had lost your appetite and hadn’t found it since.

In your five months of dating you and Chris never really brought up going to that level of your relationship, and you thought he honestly didn’t care. He never pressured you or made any advances that made you feel uncomfortable; instead he just let things flow, which you appreciated. There was a part of you though, that wondered if things would always stay this way and he’d always be so patient.

Apparently you were quickly being shown how they wouldn’t.

Not that you didn’t want to go there. Clearly you weren’t blind to how attractive your boyfriend was with his piercing blue eyes that made you swoon at every glance, and muscular arms and legs making you embarrassingly stumble over your words those times he’d greet you at the door in only his boxers. Paired with his overall personality that kept you entertained from his dorky antics yet intrigued from his intellectual views, you were completely smitten already by the man across from you.

But if you were ready for the next step, you weren’t quite sure yet.

Plus even if you were you wouldn’t even know where to start! You knew what went where, obviously, but what about the other stuff that went with it? And what if you weren’t any good at it? You knew guys talked (even though they claim not to gossip but we all know), and you didn’t want to be that girl getting destroyed in the group chat. Oh God what if something was wrong with you down there?!

“Y/N?...Babe!”

“Huh? Yea?”

“I asked what’d you get for 25? My answer isn’t matching up with what’s in the book.”

“Oh uh I haven’t gotten there yet, I’m still on 12,” you answer now trying to catch up.

“You okay?”

“Yea, why?”

“Well for starters, you’ve been clicking your pen nonstop for a while,” Chris chuckles as you slowly lower your pen. “And you’ve been kinda spacey since you got here. Anything you want to talk about?”

“YES! A LOT ACTUALLY!,” you wanted to scream, but instead you simply shrugged.

“No, I’m fine. Just a little stressed I guess.”

“Why don’t we take a break then?,” he suggests closing his textbook. Watching him stand from his desk with a short stretch and yawn, your skin feels as if it’s been set ablaze wondering what would happen next.

“Is this him making a move?,” you thought as he plopped down on the bed next to you with a loud sigh. Holding his arms out with a childlike smile, a nervous laugh escapes your lips setting your textbook off to the side before wrapping your arms around his middle cuddling close to his body.

“So I’ve uh been thinking...”

And here come the nervous sweats. Please don’t let me stink.

“Mhmm?”

“Maybe we could try some new things?,” he answers, fingertips trailing up and down your spine.

“N-New?,” you swallow. From how hard your heart is pounding against your chest, you’re surprised Chris hasn’t said anything and that you haven’t gone into cardiac arrest.

Then again the night’s still young.

“Yea, but there’s no pressure. If you don’t want to it’s fine.”

“Not that I’m upset or anything, but where’s this coming from?,” you ask. Your hands moving to rest on his pecs helping you sit up.

“Just to change things up you know? What we usually do is fun, but I’ve started wanting different.”

Great, now you’re boring. Wait, are you gonna be boring in bed too? You honestly weren’t that flexible. Maybe you could sneak to the bathroom and stretch?

“Oh, um okay.”

“Hey it’s like I said though, if you don’t want to it’s completely fine,” he reassures sitting up himself and taking your hands in his. His warm thumbs running soothingly along the bumps of your knuckles before bringing them to his lips.

You were still scared, but deep down you felt that you could trust him with all of you, and you wouldn’t want your first time to be with anyone else.

“No, I-I want to,” you smile.

“Great! We can-,”

He can’t finish his sentence before your lips are hurriedly pressed to his and your hands gently frame the sides of his neck letting your thumbs graze along his jawlines.

So far so good Y/N, just don’t think about it.

You’d made out plenty of times before, but compared to you two now, you realized those in the past were more so innocent and playful with your breaks for small chuckles and fingers tracing facial features. Seemingly feeding off your energy, kisses now were hungrier and soon you were straddling his lap feeling something press against your thigh as his fingers dug into your hips.

Okay now that we’re here, do I take my clothes off first or his? Or do I take turns with both? Should I wait on him? Does it really matter?

His mouth moves lower to your neck attacking right above your pulse point, and in turn making it race faster as a hidden moan rolls off your tongue startling your own self.

Hold on, did I even shave my legs? Dangit, I said I would do it tonight when I got back.

You lean back to remove your graphic tee, but Chris holds your hands in place stopping you from moving any further.

“Baby you sure about this?,” he asks slightly out of breath with red and partially swollen lips. “It’s your first time and I don’t want you rushing into anything when you’re not ready.”

“Yea...I think so at least. Plus you were talking about doing something different-,”

“I was talking about going somewhere different for our date night. Supendi’s is nice, but there’s this new arcade for adults that I thought would be fun.”

“But..but you texted saying how your roommate wasn’t home. And the winky face.”

“Yea meaning that when we get done with our work, we can watch the big tv in the living room rather than being stuck in here holding my phone screen.”

“Ohhh...”

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped right there as the blood drained from your face and apparently stopped in your throat from the lodged sensation you get.

Reminder: call your parents when you get the chance to ask if they dropped you on your head as a child, explaining why you’re so dumb now.

“You thought I was saying-?,”

“Yep, I did,” you sigh moving towards the opposite side of the bed pressed against the white as milk wall. Arms wrapped around yourself as you sink further into the mattress, your embarrassment also makes you feel uncomfortably vulnerable and desperately wanting to return to your room so you could cry in the corner of your shower.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“No you’re not,” he states leaning down to kiss your temple before hugging you close, “It’s my fault you thought that. I should’ve been more clear, I’m sorry.”

“If I wasn’t sure, I should’ve just asked rather than assumed though. That would’ve saved a lot of embarrassment and stress.”

A lighthearted chuckle vibrates his chest and forehead rests against your temple distracting you long enough to bring some level of comfort.

“Don’t think I stopped because I don’t want to, believe me I really do. Like I said though, I want you to be sure you’re ready.”

You only nod, giving him a small smile while you bask in the sensation of his cool nose bumping and rubbing against your cheek.

“And you’re not bored, since we haven’t had sex yet?,” you timidly ask finally meeting his eyes.

“Of course not. I’m never bored when I’m with you, and never will be.”

How was he so perfect? Where did this guy come from Build a Boyfriend? Your lips find his, still a bit red from your earlier session, melting away any self doubt or overthinking that remained in your brain successfully bringing the quiet it so desperately needed.

“Thanks for being so patient with me.”

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[mightynonagesimus]

15 Minutes (What If I Told You)

ANGST WITH AN UNHAPPY ENDING. DO NOT READ FOR A GOOD TIME. This is a supercorp oneshot I wrote after I hear the title song. Very Angsty, you are warned. Trigger Warning : Angst, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Obiviously. This is pre-apocalypse.

11:27,

Monday, July 13th

Lena's Loft,

National City.

It was very unnoticeable at first. Solar flares from a nearby galaxy far enough that they didn't think much of it. A few explosions a couple galaxies down hardly warranted the DEO's involvement. Besides, Earth had different things to worry about. The Team had different things to worry about. Probably. Lena wouldn't know anymore, would she? After the Fortress, she had taken extra precautions to block every single one of them out of her life. She didn't need anyone. She just needed to save the world.

And to be honest? Lena was ashamed it took her that long to figure it out. It wasn't like her. The  Prodigy of her generation. The CEO of one of the biggest Tech Corporations in America. The sister of Earth's most infamous criminal mastermind.

If she had just gotten out of bed, checked any of her projects, called her secretary back. But she was too numb, too empty. Lying in bed, unable to move or think. Wishing to die. She couldn't even muster up the energy to lift a hand, it was just... pathetic.

After a week, Jess had had enough. It took Sam flying over from Metropolis to even get Lena out of bed. Sam had no idea about Kara, of course. But it didn't take long for her to march over to Alex's apartment and threaten her friend until the truth spilled. Lena had never seen that furious. Over Lena, of all people.

She didn't deserve Sam.

***

Sam had been pestering her all week. Bringing over food and staying with her every night. Lena felt like an asshole, taking up so much of her time. That was the main reason she returned to L-Corp after a week That was when she found out about the satellite malfunctions. Some radioactive signature was messing with their signals. That was fine, this was a problem Lena could fix, right? Easy.

Wrong. Turns out the signature was something her systems could recognize. Kryptonite. A giant chunky piece of Kryptonite and debris about the size of a small moon. A Krypto-Comet that was hurtling at half the speed of light from deep space, directly towards Earth.

Mondays, right?

Of course, she contacted the DEO immediately. They were horrified. For a Secret Government Agency handling the extraterrestrial, they had some shockingly bad tech. She wasn't really surprised.  Also, they might have been slightly distracted with Leviathan. Lena had spent the next three days cooped up in a lab with Brainiac 5 desperately trying to come up with a way to deflect it or destroy it, or anything really. Usually, an Anti-Kryptonite suit and Supergirl would have taken care of the problem real quick, but considering the size of the comet and the excessive amount of Kryptonite on it, it just wouldn't be possible. There was no time to call for back-up from Argo City either, with the satellites malfunctioning.

The last five days were utter chaos. Naturally, the news hit the public hard. It was pandemonium, but how could you keep a goddamn meteorite impact from them? The skies were already turning purple.

Lena however, was still in her lab. Over the course of three days, a complete whirlwind of people checked in and out of her lab. People she had never met before. People she had never even heard of. Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow. A scientist named Raymond Palmer with some very interesting ideas on molecular structure and shrinkage. Felicity Smoak. Alex pulled her aside during lunch to explain about the Multiverse.

What. Even. What.

Okay.

It felt like her brain was exploding, but she was their best chance of saving the planet. She had to pull it together. She can't show any weakness.

Alex called for another excruciating meeting the second day.

"Attention! I have some news." Alex exhaled slowly. "Sara?"

"I'm sorry guys, but it's bad. We were unable to prevent this event from not occurring. It happens rarely, but this can't be prevented by modifying the timeline. It's inevitable. We have to find other ways."

"What if we move your population to our Earth?" Harry? Larry? The guy in red spandex asked.

"More than half out Earth's population have doppelgangers in yours. It will mess with the balance of your universe. We can't move them. How about finding an empty universe?"

"Kara is out looking for one, but every Earth we found was either ruined or full. That's too long a shot, I don't think we'll find one in time."

"Well, theoretically-" Brainy hesitated - "My ancestors had a way of...dealing with planets that disagreed with them. They would shrink them down and have them as trophies."

"We can't shrink the planet, the gravitation of the solar system would collapse and we would fall into the sun." Lena muttered distractedly, fiddling with her pen.

"Let's not do that. Any luck contacting Superman?"

"Radio silence. The radiation is messing with communications."

"We could push it through a wormhole, or a portal, but-"

"The comet will be here before we could begin to build it. What if we transport our people to a different planet?"

"Seven billion people on a different planet without nearly enough food and water?"

"Or maybe into a space station?"

"We have four days. To transport seven billion people. And essential items."

"Yeah, that's not gonna work either."

"Okay, let's keep at it guys." Alex clapped her hands together. "There IS a way, we just don't know it yet."

***

Yeah, there was no other way. The days went by in a whirl. They came up with theory after theory, but it was too late. Their world was going to end. Nothing can stop it.

During the last day, Alex ordered every non-Earth-38 person off the universe. And even though there was some resistance, everyone sombrely agreed it was the best move.

A surprising lot of friendships were made that week. World-ending threats tend to do that, apparently. Lena personally never wanted to experience Nia and Zari Tarazi try to cook a pizza together ever again. They almost blasted the dough halfway across the DEO building and into the miniature Nuclear Reactor.

Lena would never, not in a million years, ever admit it; but she wanted what they had.

She couldn't fathom that comfort, that mutual understanding of trust that Nia shared with Zari. How did they build it? How could they rely on it, when they had been strangers only a week ago? How could you share your secrets, yourself, with someone who could potentially turn against you, someone who could be lying through their teeth like Eve was, someone who might hate you just because of a name that you can't change?

Not that anything could be done now. It was too late.

They were gathered at the DEO training facility off-city to say their final goodbyes, except Lena was at L-Corp. It took her a while to accept it, but this time it was real. There was no hail mary, no high stake final masterplan left in her. She was going to die, along with her planet.

So it was the perfect time to break out her finest bottle of scotch.

The L-Corp building was deadly silent. Any other day, Lena would have enjoyed it. The building was almost never fully empty, with the security team and the journalists and the interns who never sleep. Today it put her on edge.

Because she did this. Lena caused all this, it was Lena's fault. She was the reason-

'Alex.'

The tiny blue screen lit up on her desk, ringing insistently. The tech mogul was almost relieved that something interrupted.

The silence. Interrupted the silence.

Lena brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Lena!? Where the hell are you?" For a second, Lena relished the panic in Alex's voice. Of course, it probably was over the world ending, but she wanted to pretend that it was over Lena. That Alex actually cared about her.

"What do need me to do, Director Danvers?" Her voice was meant to be posh and clipped as always, but it came out slightly more drunk than she wanted it to.

"Wha-Nothing! I just couldn't find you anywhere so I thought I'd check up on you." Aww, Alex. You don't need to pretend, everything is gonna go to shit anyway.

"Is Sam still there?"

"Uh- Yes. Yeah, she's here. Do you want to talk to her?"

"Nooo." Lena considered it. "No, definitely not."

"Lena, are you drunk?"

Lena exhaled loudly. "Why did you call me, Director?"

"Because the universe is ending!" Lena cringed away from the phone. That was too loud for her sleep-deprived brain.

"I don't see your point." She huffed back.

"Goddammit. Look, Kara and I will keep looking for a solution, you don't need to worry, okay? You know she never gives up. Nia and the others-"

"Please just stop." Lena begged.

"I-Stop?" Lena could picture Alex's face. She hated that she did.

"I don't care! About anything, anymore. Just leave me alone. Goodbye, Alex."Sorry I pulled so much shit.

Lena switched it off and chucked it across the room, onto her couch. It bounced over the cushions and fell over.

She was alone, now.

"Hope?"

"Greetings, miss Luthor. What can I do for you today?" Hope was always here. Lena's only constant companion through everything. Even if it did wear the face of her traitor friend.

"You understand that this will be the last day?"

"Yes, miss Luthor-"

"Lena. Call me Lena."

The robot cocked its head to the side. Why did Lena program it so life-like?

"Lena. Would you like for me to call anyone else?"

"No, thank you. How long is it now?"

"Seventeen minutes and three seconds."

Lena cradled her head. It felt like her brain was swimming in the alcohol. At least she won't have to feel this tomorrow.

"Execute terminal orders and shut down, please."

"Executed. Goodbye, Miss Luthor."

The hologram blinked off. Lena swirled the last of the scotch in her glass. It didn't taste nearly as good as she hoped. She set it down in distaste.

God, this was all her doing, wasn't it?

If only Lex could see her now, pushing everyone away, alone and lonely on top of the empire that was built by her psychopathic family. Everything he said that day was true.

And it was all Lena's fault. Because she chose to trust Kara. She chose her new family. She wanted that. She craved that. Even when she knew she could never have it. She's always craved that. This wonderful 'family' she could love with all her heart. They would have been her people, they would love her no matter her last name. They would support her through hell and back. She fucking fantasized about how they would be there for her every birthday, about how she would shower them with love and affection, about game nights and road trips. She didn't give a shit about romantic, platonic, she just wanted someone to be there at the airport when she comes back from month-long expeditions through Europe.

It all seems so naive now. She was still here, on top of an empty building, because of her choices. Because of her stupid, stubborn pride. She must have chosen this, right? This is what she wanted. To be alone. Sixteen minutes from the world ending. She had chosen to be alone, bitter, angry at herself for doing what she had done.

Fuck, no.

But it was too late. Too late to accept her family, too late to enjoy them. Too late to save the world. Too late to apologize.

Too-fucking-late.

Fuuuuuuck, she messed up. What she wouldn't give to go back in time, find her younger self and...eughh. Berate her? Explain? Mug her? Lena had no idea.

This scotch tastes like shit.

Why is time so slow?

Tick.

Tock.

Her life is shit. She would like a refund.

Tick.

The alcohol is really getting to her brain, cause she found that funny.

Toc-

The entire floor rattled when the door flies open behind her. *

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Oh hey, Sam. You did come.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She crossed her arms, raising one brow at her CFO.

"Lena, no." Sam stomped over and wretched the glass away from Lena.

"Goddammit, leave me alone, Sam!" Why I am so shitty all the time Sam?

"No." She repeated firmly.

"What?"

"No. I should have done this a long time ago when I first got back here. I'm not leaving you alone, I'm not letting you drink yourself to death. I'm not let you wallow in your misery when the world is fucking ending and you still stubbornly refuse to put down your pride. I'm not leaving!"

She walked over to Lena's hidden break room and poured the scotch down the sink.

"But I-"

"No. Listen, you dumbass. You've been through some horrible, messed-up shit. Your brother almost destroyed the world multiple times. Your mother was a narcissistic fucking psychopath. I cannot even begin to understand how you feel most of the time. Having every move scrutinized by the world, feeling like you can't trust anyone."

"I trust you."

Sam paused. "I-What?"

"I trust you, Sam. You may be the only person who I can be myself around right now. And-And I know that isn't fair to you, me having constant breakdowns. I keep you from your life and Ruby and I hate it-"

"Lena!" Sam takes her hand. "You can always tell me about it. Everything. And I won't lie, helping you through your trauma isn't easy, especially since you refuse to meet a therapist. But that doesn't mean you can keep everything to yourself. It means that your pain, it matters to me. It is a piece of you that you have shared with me, and it isn't going to fucking evaporate the second I know about it. You matter. Your trauma matters. To me, and to everyone at the DEO. I want to help you." She inhaled deeply.

"And I can't promise that everything is going to be fine, I don't even know if we'll exist an hour from now, but I can tell you this. You don't deserve all this pain. That doesn't mean you don't have it. You are not responsible for what your family did, and you are not responsible for your mother's death. You don't deserve to die alone and at odds with everyone you love."

"Sam, but I-"

"And I'm sorry, I know Kara and the others messed up. But they love you. They are your family now. And I can't watch you punish yourself over this. Lena, it's time to let go."

Tears lined Lena's eyes. "I can't do it, Sam!"

"You can."

"I can't! I trusted Kara with everything. I shared every piece of me with her. Love and family were supposed to cure me! I made myself completely powerless, I was vulnerable, and she threw it back at my face. I cannot make that mistake again!"

"It's not fucking magic, Lena! Love isn't a cure-all. It doesn't mean everything bad that ever happened disappears! It only means that you aren't alone in your fight. Family and friendship, it  takes work! You have to see them, and they have to see you. And Kara and the others, they love you!"

"If they fucking love me so much, why do they keep hurting me? Why am I the only one who gets lied to?!"

"It not that fucking simple! Everyone there has their own stuff. We're fucking terrified all the time. And now everything we ever feared is happening, and we can't even fucking be together!"

"What, now you're on their side?!" Lena heard the words spill out her head as messily as she felt, drenched in bitterness and insecurity. "Should've known that you would turn on me too."

Regret fills her immediately, but Lena drops Sam's hand like a searing pan.

Fuck.

"How can you think that?" Sam's voice was quiet now. Her eyes, Lena realized, were also filled with tears.

This is it. This is the moment I chase away the last person who's ever cared for me. One last screw over that will be wiped after the comet hits. One more mistake in my endless list.

Sam raised her arms. Lena reflexively leaned back, her heart hammering against her chest. Shit. She knew how this goes. She's seen enough fights between Lillian and Lionel end. She could hear the resonating crack from almost two decades ago. Lionel might have loved Lena, but he wasn't all that kind to Lillian.

You deserve this. You failed. You failed to protect yourself,  failed to protect the universe. You are never going to be enough. You failed both your families, you failed yourself.

Warmth burst around her. Sam wrapped her arms around Lena.

What in the world... why was Sam hugging her?

Shit, this feels nice.

"Sam?"

"There are no sides, Lena. That's the whole point. You are a part of this family, and we will fight like hell to keep it that way." Sam stroked her hair. "We aren't perfect, we are flawed, we hurt each other. But we aren't alone. We love fiercely, and we have each other's back. We take care of our own. And you are one of us. We love you. We are here if you accept us."

Lena sniffled against Sam's shirt. A fierce rush of gratitude rushed through her. Sam has always been her rock, her constant for almost six years now. She's had her back so many times. Her best friend.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sam." Lena sobbed. "Shit, it's too late. I can't fix everything. I messed up. I messed the whole thing up-"

"Hey. There's still time." Sam drew back and swiped at her eyes. "You can still call Alex. We have... seven minutes left."

Lena nodded, biting her lip.

"Thank you, Sam."

She shakily dialed her phone.

"Alex?"

***

"Hi! Aunt Lena!" A little bundle of joy crawled into Lena's lap and gave her a hug.

Ruby.  She always meant a lot to Lena. Maybe because Lena never really had an aunt while she grew up. Maybe because her hugs were made of pure love; because Ruby is the most wonderful little human Lena ever met. Maybe because there was no tension, no tears involved. Ruby felt like hugging Lena, so she did.

It was the first time Lena cracked a smile in over a year.

"Hello, little monkey. Did you eavesdrop our whole fight?" She mussed her hair.

"Hey! I'm fourteen now. Not so little anymore." She carefully flattened her hair down. "And I know what swear words are, Auntie."

"Do you, now?"

"Yes!" She huffed. "Mom said she's making Mac and Cheese. She said your fridge was full of atrocious rabbit fodder and she hid about seventy percent of your kale." Ruby's voice dropped low and she whispered conspiratorially. "It's behind the eggs, don't tell her said that. Not that we'd be needing it anymore." She glanced sadly at the red skies.

"Are you okay, little monkey?"

"Aunt Lena, is there really no way to destroy the comet?" Ruby asked her.

Lena's heart broke. At that moment, she would've given anything to be back in her lab three weeks ago when they first found the comet. To have found a way out of this catastrophe.

She smiled sadly at Ruby. "I'm sorry, monkey. There's nothing we can do."

How do you tell a child that you failed her, that the entire world was gonna burn? That they were all going to die?

"It's okay, Aunt Lena. I love you." She kissed Lena on the cheek.

The elevator bell dinged and Lena could hear the doors open with a hiss. Her's mouth got just a little dry.

"I'm going to go help mom with the cheese. You should talk to them."

"Wait, Ruby-" she was gone. Great.

Lena exhaled shakily and got to her feet.

Here goes. Oh god. Why did I do this? This is a bad idea, shit. Shit, shit, shit. They still hate me why did I call them, they- Alex.

It was Alex. Suddenly, it wasn't the monsters that she was facing. It was Alex and Kelly and Nia and Brainy. Her family.

Alex stumbled forward first. "Lena, I-" She interrupted herself by crashing into Lena-"I'm so fucking sorry. I should've told you when the whole thing with Reign happened, but then Kara told me that she had to work things out between you and Supergirl, and then I lost my memories for a while-" Lena realized with a jerk that Alex was sobbing against her shoulder.

"-I feel like such an awful friend." Alex's voice cracked.

"Ale-Alex! Hey, it's okay." And for the first time, Lena really meant it. "I'm sorry too. I just felt-"

"Betrayed. I know. I'm sorry." She repeated, stepping away from Lena. She gave Lena a small smile. Smaller, but much like the one she gave Lena the first time they met in Kara's apartment. Tired, but it gives off so much warmth that Lena could feel it. It reminded Lena of all the times they spent together. All the days when they made small explosions in her lab and teamed up for game night.  When Alex took her to self-defense classes and showed her fancy tricks with her guns. She was Lena's best friend. She is.

"Brainy, Nia." God, it felt good to- Lena couldn't even describe it. She missed this. Her friendship with Brainy was one of the few things she treasured most in the world. He was the only one who could ever match her intellect, her best lab partner. Her friend. And to the lonely twelve-year-old genius from the Luthor family, that was everything. And Nia was one of the bravest people Lena knew, unafraid to be herself and face the world. Fighting every day for the greater good. And she was more than that, she was the one who taught Lena that she didn't have to hide who she was. Lena will be a Luthor her entire life. She just had to embrace it. Or as Nia had framed, quite eloquently; 'own it.'

Kelly, and her crazy therapy skills. Lena regretted not spending more time with her. She was such a wonderful person. Kelly was the silent rock of their group, Lena could see that now. She was always there and she knew exactly what to say. In Lena's eyes, she was magical. So determined in supporting her friends through everything. The sweetest, most bad-ass person out of them all.

Shit, Lena was crying now.

"No more little boxes, Lena." Brainy whispered in her ear, and she giggled. Even Lena was surprised by that.

He was right. No more boxes. She has three minutes left to live and she wasn't going to crush herself with the weight of her stupid boxes.

There was still one more person-

"Kara. I'm sorry Lena, she- couldn't make it." Alex squeezed her shoulder. "Barry's Earth- they don't have a Kara. She can live there and not disintegrate. I told her to go with him. I'm sorry, Lena."

Lena's lungs filled with lead.

"Yes, of course." Lena's voice sounded far away even to herself. "She deserves to live there, in peace. I'm sorry, excuse me."

Something akin to panic swelled over her. Anxiety? Sorrow? Feelings were not Lena's strong suit. Panic attacks, unfortunately, she's already dealt with. She backed away from the room, almost knocking Sam over in the process. "Uh- Bathroom."

The door slammed behind her, and Lena splashed her face with cold water.

She would never get to apologize, she would never even get to see Kara again. Her best friend. Her soulmate. And now, she would die without Kara knowing- knowing that-

Because Lena only ever hated herself. She could never,ever hate Kara.

She curled into a ball on the floor, trying to physically hold herself together so she didn't fall apart. She couldn't fall apart, not right now. Her heart was racing and her breathing was short and distressed.

"Lena? Open the door." Alex's voice, carried in through the door.

"I-I'll be right out!" Even Lena knew they won't buy it. She could hear her voice crack with emotion.

"Lena? You don't have to go through this alone, I just told you that." Her voice was soft, and Lena chose to listen.

"I know it's hard. I know you miss her, and I can't imagine what it must feel after everything that happened between you and Kara. It was difficult for me too. I'm leaving her alone, just like everyone else in her life. I'm leaving her and her world is ending again, and we can't do anything about it. I hate it. I broke my promise. She doesn't deserve this pain, and you don't either."

The door creaked open. Suddenly it was Alex surprised by the hug.

"Alex, I'm so sorry."

"Lena." Alex wrapped her arms around the small brunette. "Trust me, she knows. She knows that you love her."

Lena sniffed and pulled back.

"That's just it, Alex." Lena's voice grew softer. "She doesn't know that I'm in love with her."

"You're in love with me?" A small, hopeful voice echoed from the back of the room.

The blonde superhero stepped forward with the sunny smile Lena loved. "Sorry I'm late but, I bought emergency Potstickers." She waved a bag at the rest of them.

"Kara-" The word was out of her mouth before she realized it, but then it was Lena in Kara's arms and nothing else mattered. She buried her head in the Kryptonian's shoulders.

"Hey." Kara tucked a strand of hair behind Lena's mismatched eyes, and Lena fucking melted.  "You know, I've been doing some research." Her voice was low and breathy.

"Oh yeah?" Lena's eyes shined as bright as the red skies outside. Kara thought she could see the whole galaxy in her them.

"I think I finally know what Quantum Entanglement means." She rested her forehead against Lena's and smiled softly.

Lena's heart was racing. She reached up and caught Kara's lips in hers.

"I love you too, Lena."

***

"System error. Terminal order simulation failed."

Lena gasped and fell to her knees.

"Redirect operations to internal systems." She gasped, tears streaming down her face.

Just a few more, a few more minutes. Please. I need to hold her. I need to be held by her.

"Simulation failed."

"No! No, no, no. Please. Try again." Lena fumbled with her screen.

"Simulation failed."

"TRY AGAIN, GODDAMMIT." Lena cried, her voice full of raw emotion.

"Simulation failed. Shutting down. Thirty seconds left in final countdown."

"NO! I SAID FUCKING TRY AGAIN!"

"Twenty-five seconds."

The air was getting hotter. She could already see the streaks of green and red raining down from above outside Kara's window.

"Nooo." She sobbed. "Please, I need to see them. I need to hold her. Please." She crumpled on the floor, holding Kara's green hoodie in her hand. The last piece of her Lena had. The worst part is, Kara wasn't dead. Just lost forever, to Lena.

"Ten seconds."

"Please."

"Five seconds."

"I don't want to be alone." She whispered.

.

.

.

Here's my twitter, go yell at me. https://twitter.com/Keroessa24

[sea-owl]

Spring's Rebirth, Pomegranate Flower

Chapter 12

AO3 Link: Here

"We'll leave before the day of the solstice to make it on time to Mount Aubrey. There your mother will meet us."

Penelope frowned at the memory. It was nearing the solstice now, and she was no closer to a decision. She wasn't even sure she wanted to leave, but her mother. What about her? She defied the royal family for Penelope. She actually managed to force their hands, something no other immortal has been able to do, all by simply refusing to do her job. What would happen if things escalated even more than they already had?

"Pen?" Felicity called out, waving her hand in front of Penelope's face. "Penelope?"

With her sister still not answering Felicity grabbed the nearest object, a pot of pink flowers that look a lot like hearts. "These are pretty. I don't think I've seen them before."

Penelope looked up and gave a small smile. "They're called bleeding hearts, I made them years ago but like the others they didn't last long."

"Huh," Felicity said, taking a closer look at the plant she held. "So how did they end up here? And so freshly bloomed?"

"Colin has been giving them to me. I revive the plants with my magic, they seem to respond well to it, and they just never seem to die after." Penelope shrugged at the last part.

"Wait he saved all your plants?" Felicity asked, her eyes wide. "Every single creation you tried to make? And they're alive down here?"

Penelope nodded. "I think it has to do with the fact that nothing really changes down here. Time is frozen in a way, the flowers came back to life with my assistance but now they just are."

Felicity turned the vase, so she was looking inside. Her nose scrunched up. "This dirt is weird."

Penelope raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Look." Felicity pointed the vase towards Penelope. "Not even Mama's fields are this dark in color. It honestly looks like the plants are disappearing into a shadow."

Penelope looked into the vase, the dirt did look as dark as shadows. Tracing the dirt with her finger the red head felt a rush go through her. It felt like that day with the Trail of Poppies, only stronger. Penelope glanced outside at the dead earth. Was it possible? By all accounts it shouldn’t be, but maybe. . .

Penelope grabbed Felicity. “Follow me.”

“Penelope!” Felicity exclaimed. “Where are we going? At least put some shoes on!”

Penelope didn’t answer her eyes remained focus on the door that lead to the garden Colin took her when he showed her around their kingdom. Without hesitation she stepped outside barefoot. The dead earth pricked at her feet but Penelope could not feel it over the rush going through her.

Felicity stared at her sister like she lost her mind. “We really need to get you some sunlight.”

Penelope ignored her sister. Throwing herself on to her knees she dug her hands into the dirt until she was wrist deep. Closing her eyes Penelope took a deep breath, and then another. To her hands, she needed all her magic to go to her hands. The roots, she has to find the roots, ah there they are. One by one Penelope let her magic pour into the roots, pushing more and more into the earth.

A feeling of warmth echoed back, Penelope smiled. Should she try? It didn't work up above in her mother's fields, but maybe. . . maybe down here it would. The feeling of warmth hit again, as if agreeing with her. What did she want? A tree, yes a tree. Not a big tree, but one full of green leaves, and flowers the color of a sunset. Those flowers would shrink back and turn into a fruit. Yes a nice round fruit that was red in color.

Penelope opened her eyes. She grinned at her tree in front of her. A branch lowered to hand her her fruit.

"Thank you." Penelope smiled.

Pulling her hands from the dirt the emerald blades of grass tickled her wrists. She wiped her hands on her dress before plucking off the fruit.

Felicity could only stare.

Penelope pulled her sister into a quick hug. "Stay in my room tonight okay? I won't be there but I'll come get you in the morning."

With that Penelope ran off. Felicity continued to stare at the scenery before her. The tree was nice and lowered a branch down for her to sit on. Though the soft grass underneath it would have been a good option too.

-

Penelope raced down the halls, in her rush she ran into Phillip.

"Penny!" Phillip exclaimed as they tumbled to the floor.

Penelope scrambled off the floor. "Give me one more day!" She practically begged. "One more day Pip and then I will return to the surface."

Phillip immediately spied the red fruit in Penelope's hands. "Penny what are you planning and where did you get that fruit?"

"I will explain later," Penelope said. "Please Pip, one more day?"

Phillip bit his lip. The others were expecting them to return on the solstice, and with such a large group going it would take them longer to reach Mount Aubrey, but when has Penelope truly asked for something with such a determination? Also they didn't have to be there first thing on the solstice. If they left early enough on the day of they would make it in time for the night of the solstice. The night of would be okay too right?

Phillip found himself nodding. "One more day."

Penelope threw her arms around her friend. "Thank you Pip! I owe you!" With that she ran off.

-

There was a change in his realm. Colin could feel it, knew if he probably walked over and open up his widow he could see it too. Colin should go look outside his window but he found that he could not bring himself to leave his bed.

The door opened and closed quickly. "Colin!"

Colin sat up. "Penelope? What-?"

"I want to share this with you." Penelope said, breaking the red fruit she was holding in half.

Colin scooted over to allow Penelope room to climb into his bed.

"What is it? I don't think I've seen this fruit before," Colin said examining the fruit. He wondered what part was edible, if he had to guess it was the the dark red colored seeds bunched together on the inside.

"I'm thinking about calling it a pomegranate." Penelope said as she handed Colin the fruit.

Penlope had pulled out some of the seeds. Six of them to be exact. The dark red juices stained her lips, and her fingers as she ate them one by one.

Colin turned his focus on the fruit and not his tempting soon to be ex-wife. Gods what he would do to have her stay, even if only for one more night. He pulled out six of his own seeds, the little things already staining his fingers red. They tasted sweet yet tart at the same time.

Colin examines the newly named pomegranate. He doesn't remember one showing up in the Underworld before from Penelope's other plants. Phillip or Felicity must have brought her some dirt from up above to create this. As far as goodbye presents go, this one had to be the most touching for Colin. He'll have to make sure they order more of these when they become available or if it was a tree or bush she made perhaps she will let him keep that?

"I don't suppose you'll let me keep whatever plant you grew these on?" Colin asked, turning back towards Penelope.

Colin dropped the pomegranate.

The ruby and onxy poppy crown he had promised would be her's when she was ready to be queen now sat on her head. "I suppose that wouldn't be hard. Considering I grew it in the garden." Penelope picked up the pomegranate, one finger tracing the seeds still attached. "Though I would suggest not feeding it to any guests who are not members of our court. I haven't put the spells on it yet necssary for cross court consumption."

Colin stared, her words sinking in. She grew this in the garden, in the Underworld with no food protection spells on it. Colin reached for the crown. Tossing it to the side, he crushed his lips against Penelope's.

Penelope moaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck she pulled him in closer. She shivered as she felt her husband's shadows around her, slowly undressing her. Colin followed the trail, leaving kisses down her neck, her bosom, and even lower still.

Penelope gasped feeling Colin's mouth sucking her nub. His hands stopped her hips from rising against the rising friction. "C-Colin."

"Just relax my love." She could feel Colin whisper against her. One of his hands began rubbing up and dow her thigh. The other replaced his mouth as it rubbed against her nub. His tongue now entering into her.

Penelope felt her face go flush. Her hands gripped the sheets, and in a daze her head fell to the side.

There was a mirror. Wide enough that Penelope could see both herself and and her husband sinfully laying on the bed. Penelope watched as her chest rose and fell. She watched her husband's tongue move in and out her, his hand tightening its grip on her thigh.

It was a beautiful sight, one Penelope could not look away from despite the rising pressure in her belly.

"Ahhh!" Penelope moaned feeling that pressure tip over.

Colin lifted his head. Penelope could see the smirk on his lips when he noticed her watching him through the mirror. "Is my goddess enjoying the show?" He asked as his lips retook their path back up her body.

Penelope began to turn her head towards Colin once more but his hand was faster, tilting her face back towards the mirror where their eyes met. "I want you to keep watching my love."

Penelope watched as her husband rested his forehead against her temple. His eyes closed as he entered her. Penelope moaned at feeling so full. Colin kissed her cheek.

Slowly Colin began to rock his hips. Penelope watched as he found a rhythm that left both of them moaning.

Gods if this was the only time Penelope could have her husband like this then she had to tell him. He who has been so open with his love for her since the very first day of their marriage even if he didn't say it.

Penelope turned to face him, she had to say this while looking at him. "I love you."

As if a dam broke the only words they were each able to say after was I love you.

"I love you." They said as they kissed.

"I love you." They repeated, pulling one another as close as they could.

"I love you!" Was exclaimed as they found their release.

"I love you." They whispered to one another they held onto one another after.

[gumnut-logic]

Snake Bite (Part 1)

I wrote fic! For the first time this year. New fic! yeah, I know I have WIPs, but the muse was misbehaving and rebelling all over the place, so as you saw in a previous post (amongst all the amazing fanart, wow), I wrangled it and this is what I came up with. It’s not much and isn’t finished, but fic! I hope you enjoy anyway.

Many thanks to @scribbles97​ and @tsarinatorment​ for the read throughs and support. you guys rock ::hugs you both::

-o-o-o-

It was a beautiful evening. The day had been hot, but the sun was waning and a breeze had picked up enough to disturb the cloying heat prologuing the cool desert night.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped off the decking in a suit with a champagne glass in his hand, perhaps he should have left his explorations for another night when he could have been dressed appropriately, but Virgil was used to grabbing the moment and the inspiration when he could. Tomorrow was never guaranteed.

Tonight was a rare case. Lady Penelope had invited the Tracy family out to her station in the outback for an evening of entertainment. There were a number of notables there and Scott had been heard to mutter something about working holiday, but Dad had shushed him and promised to take some of the networking load.

It was times like these Virgil felt a little guilty. While he didn’t mind a party and it was certainly fun to socialise, he felt he didn’t have that suave business sense like Scott, his father and even to a certain extent, John, who hated parties at the best of times. Though if you gave John a long distance communication method and he could have anyone eating out of his hand. A skill Scott deployed on many a business occasion.

No, Virgil was more of the practical sense. Something broken, he could fix it, someone hurt, he could tend to them. Juggle the fallacies of business and the underhand agendas? He had no patience or tolerance. Besides, he had reliable feedback that he couldn’t lie to save his own life.

But whatever, he was good at what he was good at.

So, sometimes the quiet desert evening was more attractive than the bustling social scene inside.

He eyed a bird of prey circling far above and wondered vaguely what type it was. Thoughts of different birds on a different farm came to mind.

A sigh and he swallowed a sip of champagne.

The bubbles popped on his tongue.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped out, dressed in a suit, carrying a glass of champagne, but the evening was picture perfect and the quiet so alluring.

He didn’t go far. While Australia had become more familiar since they had moved to Tracy Island, it was still vast, still had a reputation of being deadly to the unwary, and this was no Kansas farm.

The red sand under his feet glowed in the evening sun.

Sharp grass - learnt the hard way - grew in tufted spikes along the path, tiny flowers dotted between the rocks. Penelope had said that spring was on the region and that they might see some lovely flower displays.

Virgil fully intended on investigating as soon as possible.

The path rose a little as he climbed a hillock and he couldn’t help but look back over the ranch buildings to the glowing presence of Thunderbird Two parked on the far side.

He had brought her with him for two reasons, the first being in case of a callout. The second was more related to that business manoeuvring thing. The overt presence of an International Rescue vehicle, while never explicitly used in dealings, was useful as a reminder to those who may forget exactly who the Tracy family were.

Virgil’s lips thinned as he stared at his ‘bird. It was a Dad thing. One of the many new things his father’s return had introduced. Scott had never used IR as a business tool and Dad technically wasn’t, but there was a contrast between how Scott worked and how their father worked and there were lots of little things like this that made that obvious.

The fact the Thunderbird was high up on her struts and towered over the landscape was functional and strategic at the same time.

A sigh and Virgil took another sip of champagne before turning to once again follow the path up the hill.

He didn’t see what he stepped on, but he felt it.

Soft, moving, he had that split second of realisation that his foot had encountered something alive, a stumble to try and avoid hurting whatever that was, and he overbalanced, only managing to not faceplant in the dust due to many years on the training mats with Kayo.

He still landed in an uncoordinated mess in the middle of one of those spiky grass tufts.

It stabbed him through expensive fabric.

Ow.

And rocks. There were rocks.

Damnit.

Red dust coated his pants and suit jacket and there was a definite scuff on one shoe.

Whatever it was he had nearly squished, slithered off into the grass on the other side of the path.

It only took him a moment to connect the dots.

He’d stepped on a snake, apparently, a little one, but a snake.

In Australia.

The continent renowned for such deadly reptiles.

Aw, hell.

But Virgil was an experienced responder. There was no need to panic. He rolled himself off the grass, his eyes pinned to where the snake had disappeared.

The grass complained and stabbed him a few more times through his clothes, but he got onto his hands and knees.

Nothing obvious was hurting, other than all the needle pricks, so that was a good sign.

His dress shoes were more red than black, along with the nice charcoal suit pants. The sooner he got off the ground, the better, but the medic in his head was yelling at him.

He yanked up both pant legs and poked around his socks, examining his skin for breaks. Even then, he almost missed it.

Two tiny little pin pricks on the inside of his right ankle.

Shit.

The current locations of his family members flitted through his head.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was going to be absolutely fabulously newsworthy to have one of the Tracy brothers carted off in his own ‘bird simply because he didn’t look where he stepped.

The setting sun was still calmly gazing over the landscape, lighting everything up in gold. But it felt far more sinister now.

The breeze ruffled his hair.

Sitting in the dirt, knowing he shouldn’t move, Virgil sighed and thumbed his comms. Maybe he could minimise the damage.

“Gords, you got a minute?”

-o-o-o-

Gordon was having a great time.

If there was something he missed living on an island in the middle of nowhere, it was this.

Penelope had one soft hand on his arm and was smiling at him as several of her friends laughed at one of his jokes. The fact the stuck-up toff, Duke Butterfingers, looked less than pleased was just icing on the cake. He was definitely on Gordon’s scorn list after his snide remark regarding Sherbet versus his ‘real dog’ wolfhound blah-blah.

It appeared the dog was smarter than the owner.

But Pen’s girlfriends were great conversationalists and it was nice to talk to someone other than family or those with their lives at risk for a change.

Yes, it was proof that he needed to get out more.

The subtle twitch of his collar comms against his skin wasn’t to be ignored, however.

A hand on Pen’s hand. “Please excuse me a moment. Duty calls.” He did not bow. Well, not really, but the amused smile and the sparkle in Penny’s eyes made it worth it anyway.

Her hand squeezed his arm and let go gently. Her eyes didn’t leave him immediately. “Felicity, do tell me about your new parlour. I hear it is being featured in Great Homes of Britain?”

If her blue eyes hadn’t turned away at that moment, it would have been questionable as to whether he would have been able to leave. But leave he did, wondering which family member he had to torture in the future in revenge.

Finding himself a polite corner, he opened his comms and frowned at his brother’s worried voice. “Virgil? What is it?”

It took a moment, enough to grab Gordon’s attention a little more. “Virg?”

“I’ve been bitten by a snake.”

“What?!”

“I’m up the hill at the back of the ranch. I stepped on a snake.” I need your help. It wasn’t said, but it was obvious. “Don’t tell Scott or Dad. Yet.” That last was said a little tentatively.

But Gordon was already moving, running the list of dangerous snakes that could likely be found out here through his head. If anyone noticed him dash from the room, he didn’t really care.

Compression bandage. Immobilisation. “You stay absolutely still, you hear me?”

“I’m aware of the procedure, Gordon.”

The location of first aid kits in Penelope’s house was quickly overridden by the vast store of equipment out in the carpark in Two.

Gordon was in a full out run before he realised it.

The evening was cooler but still warm from the day as the sun still hadn’t gone down. Two loomed over everything as Gordon dashed between cars and dodged guard rails. Two parking attendants stared at him as he tore past, but he ignored them.

Reaching Two, he swiped a dance of finger code over his left jacket sleeve and a control hologram leapt up from the fabric. The keys to his brother’s ‘bird were a necessity he was ever grateful for in this moment.

The great green Thunderbird hummed to life and lowered on her struts, smooth as ever, down enough for her forward hatch to reach him. He jumped on board and was in the first aid lockers without a second thought.

The countdown in his head was predictably short as his comms went off only a few seconds later. That would be John.

Gordon ignored it and switched back to Virgil.

“Any idea what type of snake?”

“Small and brown. It’s all I got. Didn’t see it. Stepped on the poor thing.” A pause. “I’m sorry, Gords.”

“It happens.” He slammed the locker shut, grabbed a hover stretcher and linked it to his comms. He cursed the lack of his uniform and all its inbuilt necessities with it. The essentials woven into his suit jacket and collar comms were barely minimal.

A brief thought of moving Two to his brother faded quickly as he poked the pilot’s dash and Virgil’s location lit up. He wasn’t very far away at all and there was no room to park Two anyway.

No room in the Australian Outback? An oxymoron, but it would be faster to just grab his brother and throw him on Two.

It was going to be bad enough lifting off once.

He jumped back onto the hatch and lowered himself. Securing Two he broke into another run. “You know you’re not going to be able to hide this from Scott, Dad or anyone here? You’re going to hospital, bro, and Two’s the fastest way. No one is going to miss her launching.” He leapt over a fence, the hover stretcher darting to follow.

“I know.” It was a quiet and sad answer.

“Medical status, Virg. How are you feeling?” He peeled around the corner of the main building and fixed his eyes on a figure part way up a hill in the distance.

Virgil waved.

“Gordon, report! John says it was you who accessed Two. What are you doing?” Scott, as commander as ever.

A harsh breath as his feet hit the bottom of the hill. “Thunderbird Four responding to a medical emergency. One of Penelope’s guests has been bitten by a snake. Evac imminent.” Another breath as he finally made it to Virgil’s side. The expression on his brother’s face could only be considered despair. “Scott, we will need media management. Victim is high profile. We need to keep this on the downlow.”

A pause as Gordon set down the first aid kit. Virgil’s lips were tight as he pointed to the red and swollen twin pin pricks on the inside of his right ankle.

Gordon shoved open the kit and, without another word, grabbed bandaging.

Scott’s voice was sharp. “FAB. John is accessing Five. Victim identity?”

Virgil sighed and his shoulders dropped before he thumbed his comms. “Scott?”

“Virgil?”

“It’s me.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

[eloquence-of-felicities]

31 Of The Most Romantic TV Moments That Actually Don't Include "I Love You"

There are a ton of memorable "I love you" TV scenes, but somehow there is nothing more romantic than a character saying "I love you," just without using those exact words. So, here are some iconic TV couple moments that don't feature those three words:

12. On Arrow, when Oliver remembered that Felicity was chewing on a red pen the first time they met.

[nillial]

oh hey look! it’s a new chapter of come hell or high water!

summary: Taako breaks his umbrella during the Petals to the Metal race, unknowingly freeing Lup, who is almost immediately captured by Kravitz. After becoming a member of the Raven Queen's retinue with Kravitz as her trainer, she has two missions: 1) find her family, and 2) ruin Kravitz's afterlife. A story about enemies becoming friends and lost families finding their way back to one another.

in this chapter: they reach barry’s hideout! there’s some human soup, some barry n krav connecting, and Work Accents. 

read the first chapter here!

a lil sample for you: The remaining walk to Barry’s hideout doesn’t take long.

He guides them through a few more paths, the woods clearing as they walk. He leads them into the desert, into a stretch of nothingness, towards a mountain range and past a black circle of glass that he knows Lup doesn’t want to see. Their destination ends up being a small hut, falling apart with rotted wood and mold, set between some trees against the base of some mountains that might be better classified as big hills. It’s not too far from Wave Echo Cave. Lup wonders how long he’d been residing here— how long he was so close to her without even knowing it. It makes her heart ache to think about.

The door creaks upon stepping inside. Grass peeks through the floorboards. In fact, the floor is, if she’s being honest, less of a floor and more of some wood stacked against dirt. A breeze floats through cracks in the thin walls. She shivers.

Inside is a wooden chest, a bed, and a weathered desk littered with crumpled papers and a scattering of pens, above of which hangs a corkboard with a map at its center, overwhelmed by thumbtacks and the red thread connecting them all. On the sides are a metric ton of sticky notes— Glamour Springs Neverwinter Goldcliff NOTHING HERE, CHECK SOUTHWEST FELICITY. and Lup lich form? Possible lead in Snowborough. and Checked up on Mag + Mer + T, eta 3 days, remember to prep coin. Perhaps the most eye catching feature is a container that sits against the center of the far wall: a tall container filled with green slime, inside of which is the silhouette of a body. Barry’s body.

Behind her, Kravitz steps inside, looking less than excited. His face is scrunched in concern and he holds his stomach as if he’s queasy, his shoulders tensed and raised as he scans the area. When he at last sees the container resting against the wall, his eyes widen, his stature goes rigid, and he seems almost scared. 

“I’m gonna—” He coughs. It’s forced. “I’m gonna, um, I’m gonna go wait outside.���

read the rest on ao3!

[baby-grayson]

Dirty Little Secret|Part 4

Summary: Felicity struggles with the idea of giving Ethan her virginity.

Tags: @wheezeatmedolans​ @evergreendolan​ @graysonsdollface​ @imfeelindol​ @dolansficsandpics​ @prettyboydolan​ @voidmalfoy​ @blindedbythelightt​ @guiltydols @sunshineforgray​

Words: 2.6k  (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

tw: this part gets smutty

Lord, what fools these mortals be! 

A Mid Summer Night’s Dream: Act 3, Scene 2

“Famous,” Ethan turned from the board, his arm still hanging in the air from where he pulled off with his marker, “For two reasons.” He let his arm casually swing down to this side as he took his favorite seat at the edge of his desk. The room was full of hurried pens as he spoke, “Firstly, because it captures the exaggerated silliness of the two lovers, something that seems so foolish to anyone on the outside but makes a lot of sense to them.” He surveyed the room and let his eyes fall on Felicity, who looks up at him and feels her thighs tighten together, as if being pulled by an invisible, tense string. “And secondly because, it emphasizes the differences between the fairies, who are whimsical and sexual and ...” he waved his hand in the air and took his gaze away from Felicity, “And never serious and the people, who are becoming the victims of their own emotional waves.” He turned back to the board to go back to writing in his thick, black marker. 

//

The smooth, cold metal of his desk pressed against her thighs as she tried to ground herself from the clouds he was sending her to. She threw her hands behind her, resting on them as she craned her neck upward to reach Ethan’s lips, needing to drink in every drop of him. Ethan bowed his head down, slowing her sweet kisses into deep, sensual dances between his tongue and her lips.

His long, manly fingers worked their way down her torso from where she sat on his desk. He trailed his hand down into her skirt while he gently sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She let out a mew and pulled his head closer to him from where she wrapped her fingers in his hair. He started to stroke the edge of her panties, feeling a distinct wet spot at her core. He smirked into their kiss and leaned forward, spreading her legs with his thigh. He pulled out of their kiss with a dark look in his eye.

//

ORDER AND DISORDER: he wrote it on the board in large letters, trying to let the size of the words communicate their importance. “One of Shakespeare’s most prolific themes,” Ethan paced across the front of the classroom casually, “Nearly every one of his stories start with a world in completely stability,” he turned to face the class, “that eventually falls into a world of chaos due to the events in the story.” 

//

He reached one hand down to help hike up her skirt, pressing more of her soft skin against his clothed thigh. She moaned softly into his mouth and softly bit his bottom lip between her teeth, “Ethan,” she whispered before he covered her mouth with his and licked the inside of her bottom lip. His fingertips played against the wet spot on her panties, feeling her wet folds through the cotton fabric. He dragged his entire hand down the length of her panties and pulled out of their kiss, looking down to see his fingers get moist from rubbing her, “Fuck,” he looked with a darkness in his eyes. His voice was low and caught in his threat,  “You’re such a good girl.”

//

Nadia raised her hand so swiftly that her blonde bangs bounced against her forehead, “Sir,” she started eagerly, “Would you say that the society falls into disorder itself?” She immediately lowered her hand to continue taking notes in blue ink. 

Ethan nodded, “Good Question,” he sent a kind smile in Nadia’s direction. Felicity flattened her lips into a tight line. He went on lecture, “It’s important to note the distinction here- please write this down,” he waved his hands in the air in front of him as he spoke, “The society itself will always stand- at least, according to Shakespeare-- but the lives of our main characters avalanche into disorder as they break apart under the weight of the consequences of their strong emotions and charged decisions.”

//

His tongue was warm and lithe, licking the sliver of her core that was exposed from where he pulled her panties to the side. At first, Felicity struggled to do anything but moan indistinguishable words and quickly slap her hand to her knee, that had started shaking while she opened her legs to make more room for Ethan’s tongue. 

Ethan’s hands left her hips and make quick work of slipping her panties off and letting them drop onto his desk chair. He lapped his tongue against her, tasting her while she bit her lip and hissed out his name. “You like that?” his words were muffled as he pressed his mouth against her. Felicity shook her head quickly and frantically, with heavy breaths, “Uh huh”

//

“Hey Felicity!” 

“Wha-What?” She snapped her head to face Jasmine, who was looking less than amused with her. She tried to blink away her own imagination, realizing that Jasmine must have been trying to get her attention for longer than a few seconds, “What’s up?”

Jasmine furrowed her brow, not hiding her frustration with her friend behind her veil of attitude, she turned to her eyes to the board and Felicity followed to read their instructions. 

“Oh,” Felicity started, “Sorry, must’ve been--I’m tired today.” 

Jasmine rolled her eyes lightly to the side, “Whatever, can I see your notes?” When Felicity passed her notebook across the table, Jasmine made quick work of comparing and contrasting their notes as Felicity bit her lip and looked back the board. She felt bad for not realizing they were in the middle of a class assignment. She read the instructions a third time before letting her gaze reach Ethan, who was standing by the podium and pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. 

There was something regal about him: the way his face was so handsomely distinguished. Felicity’s face turned a faint color of blush while she focused on his lips: that looked luscious and pink at the moment but beckoned forth memories of them being pump, red, and wet. She snapped her thighs together and looked up at the ceiling, trying to sanitize her mind. 

//

Ethan pulled his face away from her core. Felicity stared at him with something sad in her eyes while he moved away from her. Her skirt was bunched around her waist like a thick belt, with all of her exposed for him. He reached for his belt buckle, nearly mumbling, “Do you want to?”

She sucked in a harsh breath that triggered him to look up from the fastenings of his pants. 

“Uh,” Felicity’s bottom lip quivered before she smacked it against her top lip. She brought her thighs together when she started to tangle her ankles, the plastic sole of one shoe rubbing against the other. 

Ethan took his hands off of his pants and looked at her skeptically. 

//

“We see this in nearly the entirety of his body of work,” Ethan took a sip from his coffee cup before moving toward the board to start writing, “Whether it’s Macbeth’s overambition, Hamlet seeking revenger, or Otelho’s feelings of betrayal,” he wrote in shorthand so his hand could keep up with his words, “Their individual emotions lead to their demise. They feel so strongly, that they blind themselves of logic and send their life into chaos.”

He turned to face the class, capping the marker and leaving it on the tray. “Any Questions?” 

Felicity looked down at her notes and back up to Ethan. She looked down at her notes, a direct copy of what was on the board, and chewed at her lip. She was lost in thought when Nadia raised her hand from across the classroom to ask, “Is there a pattern for what happens after everything falls into chaos?” 

Felicity sucked on her top lip and sighed to herself, knowing that in any other scenario she would be the one asking intellectual, analytical questions if it wasn’t for Ethan’s face and voice constantly echoing in her mind. 

“Great question Nadia,” Ethan flashed a smile at the blonde that triggered something to twinge inside of Felicity. “When order is restored, which is often is to some degree, there will always be reminders of how things fell into chaos.”  

“Can you give us an example?” Jasmine’s tone was slightly fresh, speaking out of turn, but her casual tone always held a note of attitude.  Ethan nodded, “Sure, take the Merchant of Venice, for instance, it’s not on our reading list per say but it’s in his body of work.” Ethan spoke with his hands, as if he was imagining a miniature stage and actors in front of him, “Shylock- he slumps away in defeat after losing his court case, which is the end of Shakespeare’s disorder. But it’s when he leaves that we see how truly nasty the townspeople are,” Ethan waved his hands and licked his lips, trying to choose careful worlds, “Shakespeare makes this point by showing how quickly they accept an....anti-Semitic character.” He swallowed, “He’s uh-not very subtle at showing those reminders of chaos, the last scene in any of your works will be full of them.” 

//

Felicity quickly fled from Ethan’s office with blushed cheeks and messy hair. She bit her lip when she got to the stairwell, replaying her goodbye. She had been polite, nice, sure but there was no doubt that Ethan was confused. He’d gone from ready to penetrate, to perturbed at her reaction to his offer. Felicity huffed and started down the stairs, feeling a humidity between her thighs that reminded her of her panties, left on Ethan’s desk chair. 

When she swung the door to the building open, the cold air helped to calm her anxiety of the autumn wind hit her face. She shivered, wearing a chunky knit sweater with holes in the pattern that left most of her arms exposed. She sighed and started down the sidewalk, not sure if she was walking to the library, the coffeeshop, or home. She trusted her feet to find a path to solace. 

She obsessed over it for the rest of the day: sleeping with Ethan. The thought made her go dry at the mouth. Sure, she wanted him, any woman with eyes and enough hormones would want him. She had been envisioning them together when she laid alone in her bed at night.

And yet, that night, when she was again alone in her bed, no images of Ethan’s body greeted her in her dreams. Instead, she was forced to struggle with the fact that she was a virgin, who was considering making her first foray into the sexual world her Shakespeare professor- or well, professor for the time being. Anxiety kept her tossing and turning, torn between what she wanted but wasn’t ready to face. 

Ethan was older, more experienced, classically good looking: she was sure he had his fair share of practice. Surely he would be good, but she could barely decipher if she knew how to tell what good was in this situation. She wanted him, she had decided on that. 

 But the idea of looking him in the eye and admitting her truth to him-it made her brain catch on fire. There were too many feelings involved in that process: shame, honesty, vulnerability. She decided that she most definitely, did not want to confront Ethan with her truth. 

She made this complex decision in the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. Somewhere in the hours of contemplation, Ethan became her Ethan. Her memories of his brown eyes turned into something fonder, something that lingered when she thought of him. She started to want more than just for him to touch her, she wanted him to hold her. 

When the first rays of sunshine peaked through her window, she lifted herself from bed to take a cold shower and sort through her hair. She pulled out a curling iron that she hadn’t used since her senior prom and took the time to delicate curl the ends of her hair to bounce onto her shoulder. She must of touched every piece of clothing she owned, asking herself if it was good enough for the day. She sat down and huffed when she realized that dressing for the occasion meant blowing their cover. 

Slightly frustrated, she picked out a flouncy skirt and a thin long sleeve with the tease of a v-neck and grabbed her purse. She nearly jumped when it started buzzing, she dug her phone out to find a text from Jasmine, asking to borrow her notes from the end of class. 

Felicity rolled her eyes and set her purse down on her bed. Disgruntled, she fished out her notebook and took pictures of her last few pages from the day before. Silently, she replayed Ethan’s voice. 

“A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream is Shakespeare’s benchmark play about order and disorder: where a father’s will is supposed to be the decider of order in a family but is classically disrupted when his daughter refuses his choice for her marriage and runs away with her lover and their friends--completely disregarding society’s rules.”

Felicity didn’t wait for Jasmine to send her a thank you text before leaving her apartment and bustling down the stairs. 

The maintance hallway that housed Ethan’s office always seemed spookier when she was walking through it alone. She could barely budge the metal access door open to smell the assault of mold on her nostrils. His office door was closed, which made her worry about whether or not he came to campus on Wednesdays. Suddenly, everything she had planned in her head starting falling apart. 

She knocked on the door, timidly and stood back, fiddling with her fingers and looked around to see if anyone was watching her. 

Ethan’s voice was muddled through his office door, “Come in.” 

She took a deep breath and blew it out in a stream before opening his door and walking in. 

He looked up, his eye brows raised in surprise when he noticed her, “I thought we didn’t have class on Wednesday?” He went to check his phone, scared of making a mistake with his schedule. 

“We don’t,” Felicity tried to keep her tone light as she turned around and closed his office door, making a point to turn the deadbolt. 

“Oh,” Ethan put down his phone and looked up at her and she paced from the door to the side of his desk, “What’s up?” 

Felicity bit her lip and took in a breath, which triggered a small amount of anxiety in Ethan. She looked around the room, trying to commit every detail to memory. Ethan had covered the cinderblock walls with framed pictures and memorabilia. He had even bought a small, fuzzy rug to go under his desk to mask the rotting floorboards in the room without windows. As dingy as it was, this was his first office: something he had been dreaming out for as long as he could remember. 

Felicity stopped and looked at one of his pictures. It was a blurry shot, taken on a manual camera of a young Ethan posing with a football helmet. She smiled and made a note to ask him about that later when they had a chance to chat. 

Ethan was still looking at her expectantly when she gathered up the courage to look him in the eye and say, “You have a condom?”

[nafeary]

“Therapy Session”

⚬ Pairing: No romantic pairing.

⚬ Characters: Dazai, Isaac (mentions of Arthur, MC, Leonardo, and Napoleon)

⚬ Word Count: ca. 2,5k

⚬ Warnings: mentions of anxiety/panic attacks

⚬ Genre: mostly angst, Confused Newt™️, fluffy ending

✧✎ Synopsis: Dazai refuses to open up. Isaac refuses to see people as humans instead of equations. Perhaps, the time was ripe for the residents to pull the strings behind the scene.

✧✎ A/N: @arsnovacadenza HERE IT IS!!! I haven’t written in ages, so after fending of good ‘ol writer’s block, it took a while to finish this. I hope that you will like this, sweets... I’m not usually self-conscious, but I’m just like 😣. ENJOY AND DRINK WATER!!! (I might change the mood board into a banner... I dunno man.) ALSO, pls tell me if the read more link isnt working... y’all know how bitchy tumblr is.

Dazai couldn’t remember much of his mundane life; nay, he preferred not to.

Most of this mortal coil had been spent in debauch; whoring around, neglecting his studies, committing attempt over attempt at ending his breath. He wrote it off as a tragedy, preferring to build the plots of his own stories rather that the one of his being.

Life is fleeting. For some it is akin to the joy of chasing butterflies, flower fields embedded in their sundry wings, fluttering away with no worries plaguing their minds.

For most, however, these nonchalant butterflies aren’t an omen of euphoria and felicity. They are the begetter of anguish as it sails beneath the wrong colours, maelstrom’s created by the fortune of others. Destructive. Noxious. A storm ready to destroy one’s entire motivation and spirit. Whether it be in form of capitalism or a simple shtick.

Life is unkind.

Thus, the author didn’t see the point to relieve any of his memories... but one particular scene kept his mind awake. It was fuzzy, fuming paper assaying to its destruction.

But what he could remember was a certain tale relayed to him as the moon reigned mighty, futon feather-like below his boyish body, and a tranquil voice would envelope his senses until all he could see was the palette surrounding him sponged into shadows.

He remembered the fable of a celestial guardian, a dragon so gentle it prefers flying as to not bring harm to a single organism of life. The birth of a human signified the birth of such dragon, a Kirin. It acts in protection of benignant households, as the unseen force guiding them back to morality. He was told his cousin’s birth foretold the creation of their guardian.

As a mere child, he believed these words. He believed that someone would shield him, serve as a warning sign for impending danger.

He believed someone would come to open the cage he had locked himself in. He believed someone would burn its cover, guiding him to long-lost light. He believed someone would teach him to take flight again.

He believed.

“Unlock the godforsaken door, you insolent fools!”

Sir Isaac Newton was annoyed. Horribly aggravated. Excruciatingly narked. And more so than usual. His ire had multiple fountains, one of these being these insolent fools that had chosen to bolt the room, muttering something akin to “therapy session”.

If he had to be plain, he expected such action from the frivolous author and his partner in crime (a young woman who had arrived a few months prior, the second humane addition to their otherwise monstrous community).

However, the physicist hadn’t expected Leonardo and Napoleon to agree to the couple’s notion.

Another cause fueling his irritation, like a mosquito buzzing to and fro and disregarding any clemency, was their reason for imprisoning him.

“You heard our condition, ‘ol boy,” the voice of the reformed Casanova reverberated. “Neither of you are leaving that room until you’ve talked. Thoroughly.”

That’s right. He wasn’t the only one.

His attention redirected to the owner of the lair they were currently stuck in, simpering away in his wonted manner. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that their predicament was the Japanese man’s fault.

Dazai Osamu was a pest. The neighborhood rascal ringing every door’s bell, pestering everyone’s existence with the sole motivation of garnering the final laugh. As of right now, he seemed to have succeeded in his mission.

“Are you satisfied now?” He couldn’t help the prominent sneer from forming. “If it wasn’t for your countless jests, we wouldn’t be here!”

Dazai spared him another nonchalant smile, moving to take a seat at the dark mahogany desk. “Do not fret, Ai-chan. They’ll open the door... eventually.”

A few hours had passed, and the warmth in Isaac’s chest, welted into disdain and anger, had mellowed his mind. Enough so as to admit that he might have been one of the causes of their situation, too. Frankly, it was due to the atmosphere Dazai’s room granted.

Soft and gossamer strands of alabaster light enlightened the room in a serene glow, aiding to the eminent scent of books. The smell was slightly musky, akin to aged paper, but a comfortingly nostalgic vellichor. Outside, a symphony created by Mother Nature herself resonated; tree branches rocked against each other urged by the gentle breeze as insouciant hummingbirds frolicked their sweet tunes.

It wasn’t his first time to share the author’s company in his room; on the contrary, the well of his silent animosity sprang forth from their last meeting (which had rendered him drunk on accident). Seldom at most, Isaac would traipse across a formula he just couldn’t solve, but Dazai was without compare.

He had barely asked for a sliver of information, the wish to befriend Dazai more genuine than ever. Alas, aiming to divert the topic, he had been fooled into a lull of folklore.

Hurt. It pained him to admit it, but Isaac was hurting.

With nothing else to occupy his mind, his eyes wandered to the fibster whose orbs told fables of the sun. Clad in purple, his hand was infallibly hidden beneath the fabric of his traditional (and knowing him, probably slovenly worn) garment, choosing to hide his cards just like everything else.

The empyrean galaxy of spotted crystals did not appear unlike the author; thus Isaac always found himself discovering their contrasts. He didn’t like the man, but he was a sight to behold, just like his beloved sky.

Dazai was ethereal, be it his fluid manner of dipping his feather into the abyssal ink pot, his elegant smile adorning his cheeks, or his voice carrying the voice of chiliad angels, or—

“If you continue staring at me, you’ll make me blush~”

Having been caught red-handed, the exclamation sparked an oppugnant reactions, leaving his cheeks at the mercy of scarlet apples and making him want to bury himself beneath mounds of bedsheets.

Declining the teasing and averting his head to the side , Isaac said “I suggest we pretend to have discussed our... quarrel. You know they tend to worry endlessly.”

There was a subtle shift in the nuance of Dazai’s posture, almost resembling a covered bird’s cage, waiting for its turmoil to be revealed.

“Don’t delude yourself.”

It was barely a transient whisper, lightsome yet so immensely heartsore Isaac had to halt, processing if he’d heard correctly; the uncharacteristically deafening scratching of a pen sliding across paper deepened his shock.

...this was what Arthur had meant when discussing the possibility of Dazai’s mayhem. That void in his eyes.

Quite possibly, were the physicist to reflect upon his following thoughts and actions, cruelty and manipulation reigned the battlefield in his view. Oblivious as he was, he never realized his actions to have a much purer and innocent fount, rather than for the single desire of gaining knowledge.

After all, love was more than just a unique concept to him; whether it be platonic or intimate, it had always seemed so... afar. Unreachable even. An unfamiliar ground, ruled by sweet chaos.

...it was utterly absurd! He sank his brow into the the palm of his hand. Why was he so worried for the fellow vampire? They all had issues, didn’t they? They all carried baggage from their previous life... so why did he care so much about the author’s troubles?

Isaac couldn’t possibly still want to befriend him?

...Nay, it was his insatiable thirst to solve every equation, surely. And he was a scholar with the sole purpose to solve the equation of this world, and its variables finally seemed to arrange in his favour.

Said variable being Dazai’s unforeseen display of trauma.

“You cannot possibly believe that they’d ignore your vacant spot at dinner,” Isaac started, alert in his tone. “Especially Arthur’s... whatever-she-is-to-him will succumb to her usual tendencies.”

The other vampire wasn’t smiling at him, no, his facade was an eerily empty one, unlike any of his expressions he’d laid his eyes on. Not only his smile was void, his eyes had lost their habitual mirth as well. Black holes mirrored in the pupils of his eyes.

“Besides, it’s not like you don’t enjoy our company...”

By then, the black hole kept growing, threatening to swallow him. Its intense stare prompted goosebumps to litter his skin, vulnerable. He’d never seen this sorrow portrayed by the charlatan.

To hell with it. He wanted to leave the discomfort.

“Listen, I’ll let you jest me without complain— for today. So can we please just agree to have talked?” he asked. “Or we could talk... whatever makes you happy, I suppose.” He tilted his head, closing his eyes in thought, peeking one opened as he waited for Dazai to reply.

“Go ahead without me. I’ll stay here, Ai-chan,” he declared, glee pulling at his lips as if he wouldn’t have just waddled in some unknown swamp.

“They’ll ask me questions about it, you know?”

“Very well.” Isaac’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. That was all it took for him to open up? “Dazai Osamu isn’t my real name.”

He was about to snap, irritation bubbling in his voice at the useless information he used to dodge the topic once again, but was able to stop himself. Epiphany chasing away the storm clouding his mind, he realized an important piece to solving this equation.

It was something Arthur had droned on about, one of Dazai’s works, No Longer Human. The protagonist wore a facade of hollow jocularity as he was unable to present his true self. Additionally, a piece of yourself slithers it’s way into every piece of art you create... according to Leonardo, at least.

A facade of hollow jocularity... observing the male opposing him, that phrase seemed gruesomely familiar.

“You still haven’t answered me,” he told the Author.

“Pardon?”

“I asked whether you’d be happier wit—“

“My happiness mustn’t be your concern.”

Muscles tensed as these eerie words coursed through his mind, nature’s symphony from earlier drowned out by it’s unforgiving echo. Albeit, as much as he desired to crawl someplace secluded, apart from dealing with human emotion, his mind dictated his stay.

Mustering up the courage from the depths of his heart, he spoke, “But you aren’t weak, Dazai.”

The man visibly startled, arm jerking violently into the desk, garnering a quiet foreign-sounding curse. Isaac took the opportunity to join Dazai’s side, blasé to the anxious trembling of his own lip.

“Arthur is quite familiar with your works, and I kept one particular quote in remembrance.”

The Japanese almost seemed to cower in his seat, shoulders hunched as he held his throbbing elbow.

“The weak fear happiness itself,” he recited to the best of his abilities. “As far as I’m concerned, weak doesn’t exactly describe you.”

As if he’d burned a bird cage’s linen, breaking its lock open only for the bird to panic in distrust, Dazai flew up into a stand. Eyebrows scrunching as his mouth spit bigger poems.

“How could you know? How could you possibly know of all my fears?”

Isaac’s feeling of helplessness commenced its intensity, pushing his shoulders to earth’s core. But he couldn’t stay his efforts then.

“I don’t need to. Seeing you standing before me gives me enough reason to believe so.”

“I ended my own life.”

He had to control every fiber of his being to rule his body into submission. The waltzing hairs couldn’t be precluded from showing their discomfort, however.

“Do you realize what this makes me? I’m a coward— a coward who only stands before you to— to—“

Had he finished his sentence, it would have been incoherent at best. Isaac could only watch as the author’s shoulders sacked into themselves, chest jumping in no particular pattern. His fingers snaked around the pristine fabric, just above his heart, as though he tried to confine the bird once again.

He was having a panic attack, a foe not uncommon to the physicist himself. But how could he possibly act as a cure when he was the disease?

Barely conscious of the act, his hands curled around the man’s iron grip; they struggled to enshroud the pain of his throat constricting, mutating the simple feat of breathing into a conquest of charging air puffs.

This wasn’t his domain. He’d never had to be along side a troubled person, inclined to walk the earth alone. There was no need for a circle of brethren when he had his formulas that constructed his life.

Humans were no formulas. And Dazai was no equation. His feelings were no variables. Isaac battled to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t continue striving in solitude.

He realised that that must have been their reason for locking him inside the vicinity. The constellation of empathy coming undone before him. They’d wanted him to accept the fact that he couldn’t live like the everything could be solved in the same manner as his mathematics.

He’d show them. He’d create a formula solely for him, just as he had created multiple ones for every other problem he had encountered.

“There is a phenomenon, a mirage at the end of a horizon—“

“A-Ai-chan—,”

“Just keep quiet for one minute,” he snapped, “I know that is strenuous for someone as verbose as you, but right now, allow me to talk.”

If it was possible to solve an equation by keeping to a formula, surely it was the same for humans? But life was unique, every being disparate, an especial star.

“It distorts the objects, rendering it unrecognizable,” he elaborated. “Such phenomenon is referred to as Fata Morgana.”

He’d commit perjury were he to claim that he was calm. Forces of all kinds threatened him to collapse onto all fours, leaving him at the mercy of his lungs to commence his breathing. Yet, he kept his facade of cool determination, the fear of the man further breaking stronger than his own.

“I don’t know of all the horror you might have gone through,” he said. “But perhaps, it is distorting you to think that you are undeserving of happiness.”

“I—“

“Perhaps, you simply don’t realise that you standing here doesn’t mean you are a coward, but that you are strong.”

Before he even realised his body’s efforts, he already felt silken fabric caressing his cheek as his arms pulled him toward the other man. Choosing to ignore the charlatan’s droplets of anguish falling onto his shoulder, he shuffled his feet as he didn’t know how he should position himself.

“As such, I believe that your happiness is indeed my concern.”

He made a mental reminder to thank Leonardo for his philosophy books later, grateful for the lessons he could convey.

A rough, yet mellifluent laughter enveloped his ears, the urge to scratch where bouts of air were tickling his ear were stilled by the comforting notes.

“Who knew you were such a charmer, Ai-chan?”

His blood running a marathon across the veins of his cheeks, he drew his face nigh into the men’s chest in an effort to mask his crimson shade.

“Shut up.”

Dazai truly did believe in his guardian hitherto. Especially as the man brushed with the faintest of cherry blossom petals embosomed in his arms.

And Isaac might have been unable to teach the bird to take flight again, unqualified of the task himself, but perchance, they could aid one another to learn the art of raising yourself to face the winds, leaving them no choice but to carry you.