#oh almost forgot: these are also available for blind people

[the-clintster]

I was reminded today that not everyone knows about one of my favorite ADHD/time blindness helpers.

behold! the magic of the egg timer:

pros:

quick and easy to set (no long setup, no typing, just a twist)

mechanical (no batteries required)

remaining time visible

comes in fun shapes and sizes (add your favorite to this post!!)

cons:

can be loud

can't be attached to your wrist

can only be set to up to 59 minutes

[lavenoon]

OH ALSO ALSO. I HAD A CUTE SCENE IN MIND AND ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT IT.

I can see Robin on a mission with Reverse Sun/Canon Moon and, for some reason or another, pickpocketing or stashing some stuff away in a bag. Maybe it’s from some big corporation or some snooty rich people (or maybe they just think it’s Valuable-looking intel), but when the boys notice they ask them what they’re doing and.

And I can so perfectly imagine Robin turning to them with a toothy grin and going “I’m *Robin* them blind” while looking so proud of themselves. A real Robinhood <3

- 🌻 Daye

Turns out Robin is just @naffeclipse's vigilante! Y/N's sib from another crib (and time period, but that doesn't rhyme)!

Robin isn't above stealing for sure - they chose their code name for a reason! Big corporations they break into are the most common victims, sneaking little trinkets or stationary if they can afford the space in their pockets. Canon Robin has it easier in that regard - their cargo pants have lots of pocket space! (Even after stuffing them with gadgets there's more space than Reverse Robin has available in their suit.)

Their boys would be bemused - Dawn is a little more used to their pick pocketing skills, and thus may let it slide when their little intel collection just also happens to include a little spite steal. A wallet stolen for ID confirmation may also lose a bit of change, nothing the owner would miss, but enough to pay forward on a lucky person's drink (including a tip for the barista) when they stop by a café after.

Dusk may egg them on, actually - "Think you can fit the stapler too?" "What would I need a stapler for." "I'm not asking if you need it. Give it to me if you don't. I'm asking if you can fit it." "Fine, fine, look, it fits"

The pun would invite flat expressions as they process just what kind of dork they started falling for have for a rival, and may prompt the question "Did you choose your code name just to make that pun" ("No, I learned pick pocketing after I started training here, and I had my code name then already. I appreciate the confidence in my foresight however and will take it as a compliment" "It's really not" "I'll take it")

If they still end up questioning their little pickpocket, that's also fine, Robin just insists "Have you never been to Ikea. You just steal the pencils, it's expected" "That's not how it works but I love you"

[pascalls]

I'm answering ALL OF THESE IN ONE POST LOL because some of them are good questions! Check out my answers under the read-more!

Charlie's current living situation in the Simpsons Universe is either in Reverend Lovejoy's basement, somewhere under a table at Moe's, or in one of Sam's trucks. He'll bounce back and forth from place to place- if none of the three are available, he'll find sleep in a dumpster somewhere. He's not very picky. I wrote about him sleeping in the trash in Gazebo of Horrors.

In most AUs, Charlie can speak conversational French, but nothing else.

His mutation in the Simpsons universe was immediate and complete. He won't continue to mutate further. Any larger doses of whatever Burns gave him would probably just end up killing him. I would imagine that it was kind of a funny werewolf-style transformation in Simpsons universe. In other, more realistic universes, his transformation was gradual, painful, and not at all pleasant. His voice is the same before and after the transformation! In Simpsons universe, he is American- in most other universes, he is from North London and has a fairly heavy cockney accent.

The transformation changed a lot about how Charlie perceives the world. He relies a lot heavier on scent and hearing now, and he does occasionally shed scales. He's also highly sensitive to cold temperatures. Most medicines, however, will still work on him. He's just prone to addiction- but that was evident even before his transformation. The mutation has not affected his sexual health in any significant way in the Simpsons universe. In others, he is known to be very fertile and can produce a lot of offspring with both humans and individuals of other humanoid species (werewolves, aliens, dragons, etc.) It gets weird and muddy. But he's known to have a fairly high sex drive post-mutation.

Yes, as stated above, Charlie has developed more animalistic behaviors and instincts. He's known to be territorial over mates or potential mates (or partners, putting it more politely). He's aggressive when challenged and is prone to biting and clawing in a fight as opposed to punching and kicking.

Charlie has never spoken or talked to the Parson. If they were to meet, Charlie would not be a fan of him. He's too smooth talking and he seems way too snooty. Charlie would put super glue on his chair.

I HAVEN'T SEEN THE RECENT EPISODES so I'm probably just like unaware of this entirely lmao but I don't think Charlie would have much knowledge of the relationship between Homer and Chalmers either. In his mind, those are two separate people who he has individual relationships with. Rarely would they be seen together as a threesome.

Charlie's tail is prehensile, but it's pretty heavy. He doesn't utilize it much AS an extended appendage, but he can, in a pinch. The funnest thing he does is lean back on his tail and use it as a balance so he can kangaroo kick someone right in the gut.

Charlie's tail is probably tugged on a lot during sex... I can imagine that it might have posed an interesting dynamic when first introduced to Lovejoy and Sam- but I think Chalmers would've been like "OH COOL, LET ME PULL THIS UNTIL IT HURTS". Sam would get used to it. Lovejoy would continue to be horribly awkward about it every time.

Charlie's eyesight has never been phenomenal. It got better with the mutation, not worse. But in almost every universe, his eyesight will suffer in some way, shape, or form. In his main universe, he is now blind. In Simpson's universe, he just needs them to see detailed things from far away.

Post-transformation, Charlie probably stole a lot of food out of the trash. His first decent meal was probably not until he could steal MONEY and then go order take-out or something. But he's never really been in danger of starvation.

I'd like to think Mr. Burns forgot about Charlie like literally two days after he disappeared- he had other weird shit to do. Smithers is 100% aware of Charlie (considering they sort of have a friends with benefits thing going on), but isn't keen on reminding Mr. Burns about it UNLESS he feels particularly like a bitch or if Charlie does something to piss him off. So far, so good. Mr. Burns probably didn't say much about Charlie's disappearance. He wasn't a popular dude before the incident, so it's not like anyone really cared LOL.

YES, you may draw her. Her name is Carla!

Charlie can probably pick apart a few words in Spanish, but not much! The only words he'd be familiar with are any that also sound similar to French.

His parents are worse. He would prefer to be caught by Mr. Burns.

Pokemon!Charlie would be a normal human! But he'd specialize in lizard/dragon/dinosaur pokemon. He actually has a team that I've developed before! It consists of Krookodile, Archen, Goomy, Breloom, Heliolisk, and Cranidos! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE QUASTIONS!

[liquid-luck-00]

Seven Stages of Being thrown into Teenage Superherodom

Stage 1: Panic

@marijon-week Day 1: Blue Eyes / Identity Reveal

@t1dwarrior-of-earth

Here *** Second

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Fu made her Guardian she left Paris. The Kwamii convinced her that the stress of being ladybug and the mental, and now physical, abuse of her classmates has become too much. Her parents also noticed her shift and they supported her leaving.

This was how she found herself in Blüdhaven. She was a student at Gotham Academy, but with Gotham's high crime rate they wanted somewhere safer for her. Sure she could have also chosen Metropolis, but the commute from Blüdhaven was shorter.

She will be the first to admit that it wasn't ideal, but for her mental health it was great. And with complete honesty and sincerity she wouldn't change a thing.

You see one thing that apparently gets overlooked is that Nightwing is the resident vigilante of Blüdhaven. Even more is the fact that he happens to be her neighbor.

OK so maybe a little bit backtracking here. Marinette may have figured out that her next-door neighbor, Detective Richard Grayson, happens to moonlight as Nightwing at night.

So the building they had chosen for her was extremely safe, however they didn’t take an account Marinette's extremely packed and late work schedule. With how Marinette would still be awake in the early morning hours, and if she heard a thump of boots on the balcony next to hers regularly, she is going to look out the window eventually.

When she does, she sees Nightwing at her neighbor's apartment. Which could be one of two possible reasons why Nightwing could be there. One, his significant other lived in that apartment and he just came regularly. Or two, he lived there and assumed every sane person was asleep.

Her question was eventually answered one night when she was at the desk next to her balcony door, she heard boots like normal, but this time they were closer than normal, this time they were on her balcony.

The door moved, causing her to turn and focus on the door. That was when a male voice muttered, I thought I left it unlocked like always.

So most people would have quietly left, but she wasn't most she opened the blinds. She is pretty sure she had a stare down with him but its difficult to say because at the mask.

However after countless akuma attacks, you tend to figure out who the target is, which is what she did. Same height, same rough build, same hit and skin tone, combined with her ability to recognize figures for fashion, that gives you Richard Grayson. Without breaking eye contact she got up, stepped to the door, opened it and pulled him in, shutting it and the blinds, turning to face him. Then is when she noticed the blood near his hair line and down his neck.

“There better be an extremely good reason why this happened Mr. Grayson.” She looked innocently at him, “because I don’t know how to explain.” She gestured to him now seated at her desk. She pulled out her first aid kit and started checking him.

“How did you find out?”

“Night owl,” she shrugged. “I hear you come in every night and well um, well...”

“Curiosity got the best of you.” She nodded.

Of course this was when her phone would go off, she grabbed it, opened it, and groaned, because of course she was being called a Paris in the middle of the night, morning over there.

“You know what you're still alive, just a superficial head injury, but I have to go.” She said moving towards her bedroom when Mr. Grayson finally reacted.

“I’m supposed to… you said you were 14 right?” She nodded. “I’m supposed to let a 14 year-old leave in the middle of the night?”

“I am, I can explain in the morning.” She tried to justify, but he wouldn't let go of her wrist. So in a leap of faith, she gave him a quick rundown of the Paris situation and why she had to leave. If after this Blüdhaven had another vigilante well no one else knew why, Trixx loved it though. And she had someone who not only knew who she was but knew how to help and train her. Even if he acted more like a brother to her.

After all the eyes are the windows to the soul, and as a true guardian and a pure soul of creation, she knows that she can trust Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson’s.

- - -

It’s almost humorous that the next pair of eyes she would this come to trust were a blue so electric that they seemed to hold Lightning itself. Those eyes belong to one Jonathan Samuel Kent.

She had actually met John while in class at Gotham Academy, but nothing much more than their initial meeting and a good morning in the halls. This was pretty much because he seemed to stick with Damian Wayne, the ice Prince of Gotham. And green eyes always hurt her in the past, so she mostly stayed away from them.

However the fates had another plan for them. A group project, yay was sarcastically running through her head because of course, the two people she was partnered with happened to be two pairs of eyes that made an impression on her originally.

“So, should we go to your place, or should we go to the library, oh maybe we should go to Damien’s, or maybe mine to work on this.” Jon rapid fired at her and Damian, as they well she moved in order to talk about the project.

“I um... I’m not exactly...” she couldn’t even finish the sentence before Damian butt in.

“Tt figure this out and inform me later.” With that he go up and walked away. And go figure her assumption that everyone with green eyes were complete and total dicks is just reinforced. Because if you’ve never had a good experience with anything or anyone who shares the same traits why would it be any different now.

“Maybe we should just meet at the café or at the library just get this over with.” She got up with the bell, turned on her heel, leaving Jon sitting at the desk she just vacated.

She heard of a soft, “oh ok” as she walked away.

But of course nothing ever was easy in her life. Because the next thing she knows she hears foot falls behind her, they were actually picking up speed, and then stomps as if they were trying to stop right behind her. That was when I hand wrapped itself around her wrist making her spin and face the person who grabbed her.

In that moment she didn’t think, she reacted, she reacted like every other time one of her classmates decided to hurt her. It was a motion that came as naturally as breathing while in her civilian form, so much so that she would bet her heartbeat wouldn’t have changed. She dropped the books and book bag from her arms and shoulder lifting her arms defensively to protect her head and she pushed her shoulders forward , defend her head, in an attempt to stop a blow. But the swing never came, no weight, no pressure, no kick, no pain, just silence.

She tentatively opened her previously shut eyes eyes and looked forward, towards where the hand had originally pulled her, to the person who pulled her, she saw Jon, shocked at her reaction and then that turned to fear almost, it seemed to her, as if he was wondering if he did something wrong, if he hurt her, quickly she tugged her arm away from him and dropped to the ground and tried to pick up her items. However what shocked her was that he also dropped down and tried to help her pick up her things.

She looked up as he handed her a stack, “I forgot to ask you for your number so we can do a group chat. Are you OK?”

“Oh yeah yeah I’m fine.” She pulled a pen quickly from her bag and a sticky note, she usually uses to annotate her sketches and class notes come on, “here.” She handed him the piece of paper, Marinette got up and started to walk away again, as to not miss her next class.

By the end of the day, she found out that Jon can can text her head off. She always tries to respond to text quickly but this boy spammed the chat trying to get to know her better. If she was Damian, and she figured he did, she would’ve silenced the conversation, but it would be rude of her not answer.

Eventually they did figure out a an arrangement, Damian was going to go meet a brother after school so he wouldn’t be available meaning that she and Jon would start the project. So they decided to open a chat just between the two of them and figured it out from there.

Seeing as both of them lived outside of Gotham they decided it would be a little bit safer to meet at Marinette’s and John would leave from her apartment. And that is what they did, together the two of them left Gotham Academy after school, took the train to Blüdhaven and got into study mode. They worked in relative peace, researching and writing down ideas until there was a knock on the door. Marinette made her way up to the door, looked through and there stood Dick. So she opened the door, yet what got her attention was not just her pseudo Brother but the person who is with him. This person just happened to be the missing member of their project group, Damian.

“Hey Mari, I thought I would introduce you to my baby brother!” He beamed then noticing the other person in the room. “Hey Jon.” He greater and then took a double take “Jon!!!”

“Hey Dick, Damian.” He smiled.

“Tt. Anyone care to explain this.” Damian glared between her and his brother.

“Wow something the boy wonder doesn’t know.” She muttered under her breath, apparently it wasn’t quite quiet enough as some reacted.

“She knows?!?” Jon directed towards Dick and Damian.

“Know what?” She bit the bullet.

“Boy Wonder!?!” He seemed to shout just loud enough to get their attention. This did cause a reaction, Dick almost looked proud but Damian seemed ready to attack her.

“Okay I knew you were clever but seriously?!”

“Not the time Dick!” She moved so the kitchen island was between her and Damian. That was when something clicked Boy Wonder, Robin, Damian is Robin. Dick is Nightwing, both work with Batman. Jon heard her the others didn’t, Robin is close with… oh sweet honey iced tea. “ Dick please please tell me that I’m wrong!”

“I’m going with no your right.” Thump went her head as it fell onto the counter unrestrained.

“Why can’t my life be normal?” She asked no one in particular.

“You are a magical girl who can use the power of mini sized gods who you also protect.” Dick supplied ever so helpfully.

“Not helping!” She glared at him.

“Your life wasn’t normal long before we met.”

“Still.” She grumbled. Damian and Jon were now watching her and Dick interact as if trying to figure something out. Ping. Her phone went off. “Oh come on.” She fell back on the counter.

“Who is it this time?” Dick asked.

She tossed the phone to him. “I hate elementals.” A livestream of Stormy Weather ravaged the city of Paris.

“Cookies?”

“Cookies, I’ll be back.” He tossed her a box from her pantry. Special macaroons for the kwamii.

“Wait! Let me come with you.”

“And how many times have I told you that would be a bad idea.”

“But…”

“No, don’t make me call Honey Bee to venom you again.”

He slowly backed up and sat on the couch dragging Damian with him. “I’ll um… I’ll hold down the fort. Don’t call Goldie.”

“I won’t.” She turned to go to her room. “Oh there is fresh cookies in the jar.”

She silently transformed and portaled away. Luckily her team was already there and they made quick work of the Akuma. Meaning she was back near instantly.

“That was quick.”

“Viperion was there.”

“How many times?”

“Dunno.”

“Liar.”

“Am not.”

“You are.” Jon interjected into their bickering.

“Who’s side are you on anyways?” She asked out.

“I have no idea.”

“Great we broke Superboy.” She plopped down on the couch next to a stunned Jon. “If only… Fluff.”she smiled, and knowing that smile Dick panicked. “Fluff. Hey Fluff.”

“Oh no time travel is what got you into this time travel will not get you out.” Dick jumped landing on her keeping her seated.

“What it’s going fine?!“ Jon screamed at them, looking pretty close to a mental break down, she should know.

“You didn’t explain anything did you.” She looked on up from her position under a pile of a Dick and pillows.

“I was meaning to come up with the cookies were good and kind of had my mouthful.”

“OK great so here’s the rundown. Hello my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I was chosen at the age of 13 to wield the Miraculous of the Ladybug which grants me the power of creation and healing. I moved Blüdhaven and enrolled into Gotham Academy because of my utterly deteriorating mental health as a result of bullying in my previous school. Not to mention the magical terrorist who prays on sad or negative emotions, who happens to be using the Miraculous Butterfly or the miraculous of transmission. My partner uses the miraculous of the black cat which grants them the power of destruction, but he’s a total and complete asshole, but that’s not surprising. I was then given full guardianship of every single miraculous in the Chinese zodiac box, the most powerful of all of them the tender age of 14. I figured out that Dick was Nightwing about a month after I moved in and afterwards I have been going out into with him as he’s in as the vigilante Vulpes. And I literally just figured out you are Robin,” she pointed at Damian. “And you are Super Boy,” she pointed at Jon, “because of you’re a little outburst. I would not have figured it out otherwise! And I’m totally not I am going crazy because now there is a total of three people who know my identity in another country, no less, and I’m sure I can figure out the rest of the Bat family from here but I so I don’t want to.“ She was able to breathe now, after having explained this in just under a minute.

She looked between both Damian and Jon noticed they both looked as if she was either crazy or that certainly made a lot of sense, or a mixture of both she really can’t tell.

“You were bullied.“ Jon seemed to only take away. “That actually explains earlier.” He said just load enough for her to hear, as they were still next to each other.

“I’m not going over this again.“ She huffed, causing Dick to roll off of her laughing onto the ground and she followed suit. “You know there’s a reason I’ve always trusted blue eyes.” That was the beginning of and inseparable friendship between her and Damian, and something more between her and Jon.

None of them quite knew that at the time.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 21/?

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: Y/N - Your name

Hello! I'm back! Time for drama!

Idk if this is coming out at the right time, I deadass forgot what day it is and ughughughyh

Warnings: Swearing, Discussion of Mental Illness (undiagnosed), Injury Description, Taunting, Attempted Gaslighting, Attempted Manipulation, Kidnapping, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd (I've missed saying that<3)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20) (Part 21)

Jason was stumbling over his words after telling Y/N that days were blurring together. When a decently loud crash was heard from the lower level of the Wayne Manor. Jason perked up, getting up and trying to stop Y/N from following him down the stairs.

Which was too late. When they turned to go down the hallway, they were both whacked off the back of their heads. Knocking the two of them out almost instantly. Y/N took a few seconds to catch up to Jason in being out, catching a glimpse of the fight going on down the hall. She thought it was Stephanie trying her best to fight off her attacker. But soon enough her vision blurred and blacked.

She fumbled herself awake in the room. She couldn't even take away anything from the room, it was just sawing and turning colours in front of her. She didn't notice anything in the room, the lights were blinding, she didn't even know if it was lighting.

"You're awake," she said.

And then it clicked. That was Aria's voice.

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

Days before the kidnapping of the Waynes.

Aria sat in her office. Clutching the book her twin gave her for Christmas. It was a journal, with details talking about the schedules of the Waynes. If only Y/N had known that the journal she lovingly gave her sister would end up the way it would.

She had doodles, floor plans, schedules. Everything. She wrote it all down from extensive stalking of the Waynes. She was not going to fail at kidnapping the Waynes. She was going to do it, get the ransom from Bruce, and possibly meet heroes. She was going to fight everyone to death who tried to rescue them.

She knew the morning after a Wayne Gala that the entire family would be off-guard. She knew they owned weapons from the fact of the attacks from September. So she had to catch them fully off-guard to pull off their plan.

She looked at her mask. She knew her sister had seen the mask, the cloak. She was still considering off-handedly that she should revamp it all, make it so her sister couldn't call her out. Maybe add a voice changer? She really didn't know.

If it came down to it, if she had the time, she would do it. If not, she would just hope that her sister didn't recognise anything. Crazy? Yes, she was. The brightest lightbulb in the box? Not a chance.

She went over her plans again, adding them to the massive board she already had of the Waynes. The red lines linking all of them, the paparazzi photos. She didn't realise she was that crazy. She didn't realise that she was that much of a cliche.

She thought this was normal. She thought this obsession was okay. She looked at the photos on the wall and the red lines thinking that this was perfect.

She didn't think her sister would even be bad at her for this. She thought her sister would understand, she would get it. She would forgive her and move on. She would understand her need to get close and with the vigilantes and the heroes. She would understand the need to befriend the villains and crooks.

She would. Aria swore she would.

She heard of the Wayne Gala occurring in a few days. She would prepare her weapons when she found out. Shine her scythe. Polish her guns. Polish her daggers. Clean her cloak. Only touch her mask with gloves on. Hour barely appeared in the sight of the vigilantes. They knew she was planning something.

She hoped that fact would make them come for her further.

"Ma'am?" one of her goblins asked.

"Yes. What do you want."

"Lexcorp is hiring," they shook.

"And? Relevance."

"Alter ego, ma'am."

"Noted."

"Ma'am?"

"Get... out!" she screeched.

"Yes ma'am," they said as they hurriedly closed her door.

Yelling was normal for the army she led. She would yell at them at any moment. For no reason.

She thought this was normal, too. She didn't realise people didn't yell at each other for no reason. She was raised to be yelled at. Y/N and Aria were always yelled at.

Y/N used the yelling to turn herself for the better. She thought of it as good parenting that she wouldn't replicate, ever, but she understood it.

Aria had a god complex. She only felt like she was worth it for 30 minutes of the day. And those 30 minutes were thrown into her work as Hour. She refused to work unless she was feeling her best, but if she was planning on kidnapping the Waynes, she'd have to learn to fake it.

Fake it all, fake nothing, fake everything. She was going to do what she wanted, maybe she'd extend those few and fatal 30 minutes of power into hours, into days. She didn't want to feel like this anymore.

She thought about how she was going to kidnap her own sister, her own flesh and blood, and possibly hurt her.

She pushed those thoughts away.

She refused to acknowledge the pain she was going to cause. She hoped there was none.

Y/N would understand, right?

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

Aria groaned, getting up in her childhood room, the one she shared with Y/N. She blinked and tried to cling to her sleep, but to no avail. She was visiting their parents.

She looked over to Y/N's side. Her favourite colour painted the walls she had, all the woods matched. It looked far less messy than Aria's side. She figured it was because she was mentally ill, but not Y/N. But then she thought she wasn't mentally ill, and that Y/N was. Aria couldn't be mentally ill, she was doing the right thing.

The thought still pained her. In a few days, she'd be putting out a ransom for her sister in the news. She'd be threatening her life. She'd be putting her under stress and their parents under stress. If she was caught-

No, she thought. No chance.

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

Present-day.

"Aria?" Y/N questioned, basically in disbelief.

"Shut up!" Aria boomed back at her, "You," she said, lifting up Y/N's head with her long claws. "You are my prized possession."

"Prized," she echoed back.

"Don't worry, love," she said. Y/N winced, she knew her sister called her that. She didn't want to think this was her sister. "You will be just fine. If your parents pay up, that is."

"My parents don't-"

"Did I say you could speak?!"

She shut up. Fuck, she thought. Fuck this. Fuck you. I know that's you, Aria. If you can hear me, I hope you rot.

She didn't even know if that was how she felt. Her brain was spinning, like someone put her on a merry-go-round and left her there, to pick up the pieces. She didn't know how to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. She didn't want this to be her sister, her flesh and blood, the person she shared a womb, a room, parents, cousins, aunts, uncles- she didn't want it to be true!

"Maybe you want to know why I'm doing this," Aria asked the air while pulling Y/N's head up again. "Well, love.

"This is what happens when you date a rich man.

"This is what happens when you flip off the press.

"This is what happens when you find yourself wrapped up in the mess known as the Justice League Association, do you know who they are?

"Of course you don't. They're Batman, The Flash, Green Arrow, Superman, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman, Black Canary, Aquaman and more.

"And their proteges, oh my God! Their proteges! You have Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Batgirl, Spoiler, Orphan.

"And then Kid Flash and Impulse.

"Arrowette and Speedy.

"Superboy, Supergirl.

"Miss Martian.

"Wondergirl and Artemis.

"Aqualad.

"These people, my dear. These people are my nemeses. And I want them gone!" she maniacally laughed, "Dead! All of them!"

"You're... You're Insane!"

"So be it!" she yelled back, striking Y/N's face with her claws. The blood running down her cheek along with her tears. "If I'm insane, then at least I get paid!"

She laughed and left the room.

And there Y/N was, alone in a room where she couldn't even make out details, with blood running down her face. While she was aware that her attacker may even be her little sister. She was terrified. Petrified. Scared.

She wondered where the Waynes were, maybe they were all together? So that she could use them for ransom, maybe she couldn't use Y/N for ransom, so she was left alone in the room.

She wanted to know if they were all safe. Jason and she had only been dating for 6 months, but she did care- love- every member of the Wayne family so much. And she knew that most of the kids struggled with mental illnesses.

She knew them being alone would be detrimental to their mental health.

She also knew that she had no way, no way, of getting to any of them.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 44: Tim

Tim can pinpoint the exact moment he knows he’s screwed. Later, when he takes the time to think about it, he’ll be able to trace the progress of things and see all the signs, from his fear for them to his instinctive desire to reach out for them when he’s scared to the quiet comfort he feels when they’re together. He’ll remember that weird knot of jealousy he felt the very first morning when he saw the Primes cuddling and realize that it wasn’t a general I-wish-I-had-someone-to-love-me thing, it was specific to who was involved. He’ll figure out that he’s been quietly in love with Martin probably since the moment he saw him trying to apologize and look contrite with an armful of spaniel doing its level best to lick his face off with its tail going like a windmill, and that if there’s a moment he can point to later and say is the one where he completely fell for Jon it’s probably the soft look on his face as he tucked a quilt around Martin’s sleeping form.

But that’s all going to be in retrospect. The moment he knows comes a lot later and is a lot easier to detect.

After an exceptionally extended lunch that only ends when the afternoon crowd starts shuffling in, they part, Melanie with a promise to come by the Archives on Monday, Georgie with an offer to stop by and tell her story after she’s put her next episode of “What the Ghost?” to bed, Sasha with a cryptic reference to some sort of appointment and a promise to see them later. They discover what she means later that night when the doorbell rings and Tim opens it to find her and the Primes on their doorstep. Neither of them seem surprised to learn that Elias is forcing Jon on his grand tour, but they don’t seem pleased about it either. Jon Prime warns Jon, over and over again, to be careful. Tim would almost expect Jon to get exasperated, but he doesn’t. They actually have a pretty pleasant evening; Jon Prime cooks for them while they take turns telling him about dealing with Elias. He does seem pleased to hear Jon has reconnected with Georgie, and he and Martin Prime make the others laugh by sharing stories of dealing with their Melanie and Georgie. They pull out some board games after dinner, and while they all agree that with at minimum three people at the table who can literally access the sum total of human knowledge at a whim, Trivial Pursuit is right out, Monopoly is fair game.

Charlie comes over Saturday while his grandmother hosts one of her bridge nights. He’s extremely distressed to learn that Jon is going away again already, to the point that he throws himself into Jon’s arms and starts to cry. It takes all three of them the better part of an hour to get him calmed down, and it ends with Charlie curled on Jon’s lap, the two of them sandwiched between Martin and Tim. Tim looks at Charlie’s tear-streaked face and the heartsick look in Jon’s eyes and the tender concern in Martin’s, and he tightens his arms around them and tucks his chin over Jon’s head and hopes.

It rains pretty much all day on Sunday. Martin makes breakfast and brings it into the bedroom on a tray, and they sit close together and eat quietly and don’t talk about what’s bothering them. Finally, in desperation, Tim reaches under the nightstand on his side of the bed and fishes out a book he’s been meaning to read for years. He wraps his arm around Jon and manages to get a hand on Martin’s shoulder; Martin, evidently taking the hint, scoots closer and does the same, and Tim begins reading out loud. It transpires that the book is one of Martin’s childhood favorites, but Jon’s never read it before and is both delighted at the novelty and enraptured by the story. They spend the whole day curled up together, rain lashing at the windows, underneath the apple-leaf quilt Tim’s grandmother made him, heads touching as they take turns reading aloud. It’s a stolen moment of peace in a world gone crazy and Tim tucks it away in his memory to cherish later when he needs it.

He wakes up in the middle of the night and rolls onto his side, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The first thing he’s able to make out is Martin, doing the exact same thing he is—just watching. Jon, curled into a knot between them, is still asleep, but from the twisted, pained look on his face, it’s not an easy slumber.

Tim meets Martin’s eyes over Jon’s head and reads there the same worries and fears he has himself. Jon’s nightmares are bad. They’ve known that from the beginning, when Martin was recovering from the worms and they were all camping out in Tim’s living room, and they’ve only grown worse as time goes on. The screaming terrors from reliving what he went through with Orsinov have stopped…for now…but Tim knows in his heart of hearts that what’s making it easier these days is him and Martin bracketing Jon and doing their best to physically shield Jon from the Eye. There’s no real stopping it, but they can at least help.

But now Jon is going to Beijing, and God knows where after that, and he’s going alone. They won’t be able to help him with the nightmares if he’s not there to protect. And that’s besides the fact that Tim knows they’re both trying not to consider the possibility of some other monster trying to take Jon away from them when they’re not there to protect him. It doesn’t even have to be a supernatural one. As easy as it is to blame every horrible thing that happens on one of the Fears, there are ordinary people that are perfectly capable of being horrible on their own, and it would be just Jon’s luck to be caught up in something at random and get hurt, or worse. And they won’t be there to help. Again.

“I guess we could just…go with him,” Tim says, keeping his voice low. “Whether Elias wants us to or not.”

Martin shakes his head slowly. “I still don’t have a passport. And…I don’t think we can leave Sasha alone in the Archives. You can go, maybe.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.” Tim sighs and gently tucks a strand of hair back from Jon’s forehead. His skin is damp and clammy. “It’s a mess. He might be safer away from the Archives than we are, but…I worry, you know?”

“I know. I do, too.” Martin closes his eyes for a moment. “We just got him back. And we’ve got months to the Unknowing.”

Tim hesitates. He’s been thinking about that. “I don’t know that we do, actually. I—I don’t think it’s time-sensitive. I mean, I don’t think they have to wait for a certain time or anything. I think they just have to be…ready.”

“How will we know when they’re ready?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what they’re waiting for.” Tim stares down at Jon’s face. “I can’t decide if I’m afraid they’ll be ready before he gets back—”

“Or hoping,” Martin completes. “Because if the Unknowing happens while he’s overseas…at least he won’t be caught up in it. At least they’ll leave him alone.” He’s quiet for a moment. “At least it’s one thing we can protect him from.”

“God. I just…want to wrap him in bubble wrap and a blanket and fight off the world with a stick. Or at least keep him right here with us. I wish we could just stay here and let the world sort itself out for a change. Why do we have to be the ones doing all this?”

Martin reaches over and brushes Tim’s cheek with his fingertips, ever so lightly. “Anything worth having is worth fighting for,” he says softly.

Tim reaches across Jon’s sleeping form and pulls Martin closer, but he doesn’t say anything further.

The alarm goes off not long after; Jon is taking an early-morning flight by virtue of it being the cheapest available option, and he’s got to be there close to three hours early to check in. It’s too early for any of them to be properly hungry, but Martin makes tea while Jon takes a shower and Tim…sits around feeling useless.

As if sensing that, Martin glances over his shoulder at Tim. “Does he have any statements with him?”

“Oh, God, yeah, let me check.” Tim heads over to where Jon’s bag is. It’s a simple messenger bag he’s probably had since university, if not longer, frayed in spots and festooned with patches and pins. Jon never brought this to the Institute, instead using a professional faux-leather laptop bag, which isn’t surprising; it’d be pretty hard for him to sell the “serious academic” persona if he’s walking around advertising that he listens to Sinner’s Gin.

He opens the bag and looks through it. Jon’s packed a couple changes of clothes, some toiletries, a couple of paperback books, and of course the tape recorder, his personal one. But no statements.

Quietly, Tim goes over to the end table and opens the drawer. Inside are two tapes and a slim folder. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his hold on his powers, bracing for the colors to pop up. It’s surprisingly easier to filter out the Eye and see the beneath colors than usual—whatever’s in the folder glows orange around the edges but green in the middle, and one of the tapes just seems to have indigo stripes through the green rather than them  being layered on top of each other. Like the Eye isn’t hiding the truth from him anymore, like it’s letting him really See.

He files that information away to deal with after he’s got some caffeine in him and nudges the Stranger tape out of the way; it’s probably the one he and Martin listened to, so it’s no good, it’s already been used. The other one is pure, blinding green—an Eye statement that Gertrude recorded, which is unusual. Tim seals off his ability and reaches for the tape. It takes him three tries to pick it up without dropping it—his hands are shaking, he guesses because he’s upset about Jon leaving—but he finally carries it and the folder over to tuck them into Jon’s bag, then seal it up again.

“He didn’t,” he tells Martin, heading back into the kitchen. Martin sighs and hands him a cup of tea. “But you never took back the ones you brought home after that whole thing with the Not-Diana, so I put them in his bag.”

“God, I can’t believe I forgot about that,” Martin murmurs. “Still, it’s been a hell of a week.”

Tim pauses, cup halfway to his lips. “God, how has it only been a week?”

Jon comes into the kitchen, hair still damp from the shower; it’s down to about his collar now and takes a while to dry. Martin silently hands him a cup of tea, too. None of them speak while they drink. It’s as if these last few minutes at home are too precious, or too heavy, for words. At last, though, Jon glances at the kitchen clock and swallows hard. “Time to go.”

Pure devastation flashes through Martin’s eyes, but he simply nods and takes the cups from him and Tim to put them in the sink. Tim worries at his lip as he studies Jon. “You’ve got everything? Passport, wallet, phone?”

A faint smile tugs at Jon’s lips briefly. He reaches into his pockets and produces the requisite items—a burgundy passport in near-pristine condition, a black billfold that’s seen better days, and the new phone they picked up for him Saturday morning that he’s gone to a lot of trouble to set up. “Charger’s in my bag.”

“Okay. Okay.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I guess that’s it, then.”

They take Tim’s car, not because Jon minds them driving his car but because Tim’s has a column shift and a bench seat in the front, which means Jon can sit between Tim and Martin for the journey. Traffic isn’t too bad this early in the morning, at least not until they get closer to the airport, but Jon is apparently far from the only person traveling today, so there’s a bit of a snarl before Tim is able to navigate up to Terminal Three.

He hesitates at an intersection and looks at Jon. “Do you want me to drop the two of you off at the door or—”

“No. There’s time,” Jon says softly. “You can park first. Then you’ll both know where it is.”

There’s more to that than what Jon is saying, but Tim doesn’t question it. Instead he finds a space in the short-term lot for Terminal Three, and if it’s one of the farthest spots from the terminal doors, well, there might not be a lot of people here dropping off or picking up at this time of day, but who knows what the situation will be by the time they go to leave? Jon slides out of the car and doesn’t take Tim’s arm or Martin’s, but they walk close enough together that it doesn’t really matter.

The doors open up into an enormous space. Martin, who’s clearly never flown before, looks around him with wide eyes, and Jon shrinks back slightly. Tim gently ushers them to one side of the door, where there are a couple of benches, and heads off to the departure boards to make sure they’re in the right terminal. Once he’s located Jon’s flight on the boards (on time, unsurprising for an early-morning flight), he makes his way back to where he left them. Jon has edged closer to Martin and Martin has an arm wrapped around Jon’s shoulders, and both of them look both terrified and heartsick. Tim looks at them, unobserved for the moment, and he’s struck by the urge to drag them both home, shut the door of their bedroom, draw the curtains, and stay there until the Unknowing collapses on its own. As badly as he wants revenge, as much as he wants to hit back at the thing that murdered his brother, he’ll give that up in a heartbeat if it’s the only way to keep Jon and Martin safe.

The penny drops then, bounces off just the right pegs, lands squarely in the right cup and oh.

Tim stands stock-still for a moment, stunned by the swift and sudden revelation. In retrospect, he doesn’t know why it surprises him so much; it’s not like he hasn’t known he’s polyamorous since he was fifteen, and God knows he’s wanted to kiss both of them more times than he can count. But, somehow, he’s been convincing himself they’re just friends, as close as brothers maybe, but nothing more than that. And, well, maybe they are. It’s more than that on Tim’s end, though.

He’s in love with Jon and Martin both, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses either of them. And Jon’s about to go haring off across the world alone, and Martin keeps accidentally coming to the attention of things that want to hurt or kill him, and oh, God, Tim is so incredibly screwed.

He shakes himself out of the stupor. He can deal with this later. Or never, as the case may be, but he promises himself he’ll deal with it later and heads over to the other two. Jon sees him and pulls, with obvious effort, away from Martin. “Is this the right terminal, or—?”

“No, you’re good. Your check-in counter is down this way.” Tim indicates the large sign for the airline Jon will be flying on the first leg of his journey—he’ll apparently be changing planes in Copenhagen.

They stay at Jon’s side all the way up to the check-in counter, where he provides his identification and credit card to the rather stiff old man behind the counter, who keeps sneering at the three of them in a way that makes Tim very much want to hit him. The man asks rather more questions than Tim is used to, even for an international flight, and he’s about to step in and explode when the man finally, finally hands Jon his boarding pass and moves on to the next person waiting.

“How did he manage to make ‘have a good trip’ sound like a curse?” Jon says under his breath as they turn towards the security checkpoint.

Martin snorts. “It’s like ‘may you live in interesting times.’”

“I’ll pass. After this, I would like my times to be as un-interesting and quiet as possible, thank you.” Jon smiles, but it melts away almost instantly.

There’s virtually no wait at the security checkpoint, Tim notices, or at least not compared to how it would be later in the day. Jon will be able to breeze through it in a matter of minutes. And according to the signs posted everywhere in huge letters, Tim and Martin won’t be able to accompany him. Martin stares at one of the signs boldly declaring TICKETED PASSENGERS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT for a long minute. His face is implacable, but Tim knows what’s behind it, because he’s feeling it too.

Jon looks at the queue, and the security gates, and the signs telling him to remove his shoes and have his ticket and passport ready. He turns to face Tim and Martin, opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, then suddenly gives a small, choked sob and lunges forward, clutching them both by the front of their shirts and burying his face in the narrow dip where their shoulders touch.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers.

Tim wraps one arm around Jon and the other around Martin; Martin does the same, and the three of them cling to one another tightly. He can feel Jon trembling and hear Martin’s breath hitching in his chest and he almost dares to let himself hope, but he pushes the thought out of his mind. He can’t let himself think that, not now, or he’ll drive himself crazy with wanting and fear. And if he’s wrong, if they don’t…it’s better to assume they don’t and possibly be surprised later than believe they do and almost certainly be crushed.

There’s soft music coming from somewhere, a gentle and soothing melody in a choked and broken voice, and it takes Tim a second to realize that it’s Martin, singing quietly so that just Tim and Jon can hear him. It’s a plaintive melody and the lyrics are a little melancholy, but the line when I return united we will be does at least warm Tim’s chest, just a little.

Jon gives a deep, shuddering breath and pulls back, almost reluctantly. “I—I’d best—I shouldn’t miss the flight.”

“We’ll wait,” Tim says, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. “Until—until you’re through.”

Jon nods. “I’ll let you know when I get to the gate, and when I board.”

“And when you land,” Martin insists. “I don’t care what time it is.”

“I will. I promise. I—” Jon swallows hard, looking from Tim to Martin and back, then steps forward and hugs Martin tightly. Martin hugs him back, and they murmur something to one another before Jon eases back, turns, and hugs Tim just as fiercely.

Tim hugs him back. He’s still too thin, feels too frail, somehow. He’s barely recovered from the hell Orsinov put him through and now they’re sending him off on his own, and Tim wants to keep him here, but he knows he can’t.

“Please look after him,” he whispers in Tim’s ear.

“I will,” Tim promises. “You be careful, you hear me?”

“I hear you. And I’ll be as careful as I can. I promise.” Jon squeezes him briefly, then slowly, almost reluctantly, lets go. He takes a deep breath, slips out of his shoes, and heads over to join the queue.

He doesn’t say goodbye. Tim’s strangely relieved by that.

True to their promise, Tim and Martin stay where they are, side by side, watching as Jon inches ever closer to the metal detectors and security checkpoint. When Jon places bag and shoes in a bin to go on the conveyor belt, Martin reaches over without looking and grabs Tim’s hand. Tim grips his tightly in return, and they only…watch.

They can barely see him on the other side of the security gate, but for a brief moment, Tim sees Jon hesitate and look over his shoulder. Tim waves, Martin does too, and Jon raises his hand in farewell before slowly turning and walking away.

Martin lets go of Tim’s hand, but before Tim has time to regret its absence, he puts his arm around Tim’s shoulders and pull him closer. Tim slides his arm around Martin’s waist. They don’t need to say anything; they just turn and walk away.

People mostly ignore them, although one or two give them inscrutable looks. Tim doesn’t know if they think they’re a couple and disapprove or think they’re mourning something or what, but he decides he doesn’t care as long as they leave him alone. They make their way slowly back to Tim’s car, but don’t get in; Tim leans against the back of it, and Martin joins him, arms folded as they look up at the still-black sky.

“What song was that?” Tim finally asks. “That you were—before he left.”

Martin rubs a hand over his face. “It’s called ‘The Leaving of Liverpool.’ I think. It’s—it’s the song my dad always sang the night before he left, when he was putting me to bed.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then adds softly, “I fell asleep.”

“What?” Tim turns to look at Martin, frowning.

“The night he—we had this whole routine at bedtime when he was about to leave for the fishing run, and one of them was him singing that song to me. I sang along on the chorus, once I learned it, which didn’t take long.” Martin isn’t looking at Tim, his eyes still on the sky, but Tim can see the glint of tears in them. “Normally I’d settle down and close my eyes after he left, but that last time…I was tired. I don’t remember why, but I fell asleep before he got to the last verse, so I wasn’t awake for the whole song.” He turns to look at Tim. “And then he never came back. I thought it was my fault. I thought—it’s stupid, I know it’s stupid, but at first I thought it was like a-a magic charm or something, and I broke the ritual and that’s why he didn’t come back. I thought something had happened to him and—”

“Oh, Martin.” Tim reaches over and pulls Martin into a tight hug. Martin hugs him back, and Tim can feel the tears spilling over. “It’s not your fault. And—and Jon’s going to be okay. He will. He’ll be back soon.”

“I know,” Martin says softly. “It’s just…”

Tim doesn’t need Martin to finish. “I know.”

They don’t go anywhere. They probably should, probably don’t need to sit in the parking lot, but they do. They lean against Tim’s car and watch the stars, occasionally punctuated by the lights of planes taking off or landing. Jon texts them both to let them know he’s through customs, and then that he’s at his gate. Still they don’t leave, and still they don’t speak.

Finally, finally, the text comes to both of their phones. [Just took my seat on the plane. Have to turn my phone off now. Will text you when I arrive.]

Martin’s hands shake as he sends the reply. Tim waits for it to pop up on his own phone. [Have a safe flight.]

Jon’s next text comes almost at the same instant; he must have been typing it to send while Martin was trying to reply himself. Three simple words. Their meaning can’t be clearer. Still, Tim has to stare at them for a long moment.

[Miss you already.]

Slowly, Tim raises his head to look at Martin and finds Martin staring back with a look that’s probably identical to the one on Tim’s face. He’s pale, his eyes red-rimmed, but he’s not crying. They’re probably both past tears at this point. It’s just fear and longing and the ache of missing a part of themselves.

Tim fishes out his keys and holds them up; Martin nods, and they both climb into the car. When Tim turns the ignition on, the entire dashboard flashes for a moment—there’s a short in the electrical system somewhere; he’s been meaning to get it looked at, but he doesn’t drive much these days and this doesn’t happen every time, just occasionally—and the radio kicks on of its own volition. A reedy American tenor belts out the last line of the first verse. Already I’m so lonesome I could die…

Tim scowls at the radio. “It should be illegal to play this song within ten miles of a major airport.”

Martin gives a soft, slightly broken laugh. “Breakfast?”

“I don’t know that I can eat, but we can give it a shot.”

“Yeah, but…” Martin gives Tim a sideways look. “I promised I’d look after you.”

Tim grins and tries, once again, to kill the sudden flare of hope in his chest. “Same.”

“God, he’s such a worrywart.” Martin holds up a hand. “I know, I know, pot, kettle, et cetera. Want to call Sasha and see if she’s up?”

“No, I don’t want to die today.” Tim puts the car in gear and backs out of the space. “Come on. There have to be a few places open this early that won’t be too expensive for us to not eat at.”

Martin reaches over and puts his hand over Tim’s, not squeezing or holding, just resting it there. Tim slips his thumb over the back of Martin’s hand and rubs it gently, feeling it catch against the very, very slight roughness of Martin’s skin. The scars from the worms have faded as much as they ever will, mere pale circles against his skin, but there’s one on his right pinkie finger where the worm very nearly went all the way through, and there’s an ever-so-faint ridging there that Tim keeps rubbing at, over and over, as if he can erase the hurt and the marks from Martin’s skin.

It’s not until they get to the café that it occurs to Tim that what they’ve just done is exactly what the Primes did in those early days when they were still trying to conceal their relationship. It seems too dangerous to consider the ramifications of that, though, so Tim settles for sliding into the same side of the booth as Martin and leaning against his shoulder, needing some of his strength and warmth and softness.

Martin lets him.

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter One

“What’s that garden over there?” she asked the landlady.

“Oh, so you spotted it,” she replied. “It’s a funny thing to see around here, isn’t it? How’s the saying go? ‘Like a sore thumb.’”

“Or a green one,” Gianna agreed.

“It’s a bit small.”

The landlady nodded and gave Gianna a sympathetic smile. She was a stout, older woman with drooping features behind wide-framed glasses that dominated her face. Gianna’s more generous first impression of her was that she looked kind, and the way she spoke reminded her faintly of her mother, though the landlady’s accent was thicker and her voice crackled and dragged with age like a damaged film reel.

It was due in no small part to this assessment that she’d chosen this apartment in the first place. That and the low price of rent. Although it was a decent neighborhood the building was fairly run-down and the long winding staircase leading up to her floor was creaky and narrow.

The unit she was supposed to be living in when she’d first made to move in had suddenly had to undergo renovations after a pipe burst behind one of the walls. Gianna couldn’t wait for the repairs or for another cheap space to miraculously open up in New York City, so she agreed to move from the second floor to the only other available unit, which was on the sixth floor.

It was little more than a single room with a bathroom and kitchenette attached and-- she could not emphasize this enough-- it was on the sixth floor in a building with no elevator. Thankfully, the rent was also considerably cheaper, and the landlady had offered her a discount for the inconvenience as well. Even if she’d stuck her on a cot in the basement for twice the amount she would have had little choice but to take it. It was either that or take the long, shameful train ride back to her parents’ house, tail between her legs.

Living with her parents after college had been fine for a while, but only just fine, and she wasn’t willing to settle for fine any longer. She wanted a life, a career, maybe a girlfriend? No, no, probably not that. Not yet. Being trapped in a town where every eligible bachelorette was somebody she’d gone to highschool with-- no thanks-- had left Gianna touch-starved and sexless, but that wasn’t enough to make her lose track of her priorities. She’d start her new job on Monday, focus on saving up enough for a marginally nicer place, then she could think about getting laid.

“Be careful about the light in the kitchen,” the landlady warned. “The wiring is old so if you leave it on for too long at a time in the summer it’ll start to spark.”

“Oh great,” she deadpanned.

“Tsh. You won’t miss it. On a sunny day like today you don’t even need the extra light.”

That was one thing she did like about the apartment. There was indeed a lot of natural light that came in through the windows along the east wall. She walked over and opened one, hoping to air the place out before she finished bringing up what little she’d brought with her. Despite the recent heatwave, the breeze that afternoon was cool and sweet, only smelling very faintly of car exhaust and asphalt. She sorely missed the sea-salted winds that had blown in from the shore when she had been traveling abroad, and reminded herself again that this was a temporary arrangement.

As she admired the view-- one of the few true perks of her new living arrangement-- a splash of green amongst the brown and gray colored landscape caught her eye. She pulled up the mesh screen and leaned her head out, one hand braced on the windowsill, expecting to see maybe a stubborn curl of ivy that had climbed its way up the neighboring brownstone. Instead, she was surprised to see a lustrous garden growing out of a terrace a couple floors below. If she took a good running leap, she mused, she could jump right onto that ledge from here, providing she didn’t miss and end up splattered all over the alleyway.

The elevated garden was too high and too hidden to be seen from the street, but from above she could get close enough to count the leaves on the shrubbery. It was quite an impressive collection, particularly the many-colored array of flowers. Gianna wasn’t exactly a florist, but they looked exotic, unlike anything she’d seen before.

“What’s that garden over there?” she asked the landlady.

“Oh, so you spotted it,” she replied. “It’s a funny thing to see around here, isn’t it? How’s the saying go? ‘Like a sore thumb.’”

“Or a green one,” Gianna agreed.

“Honestly I almost forgot about it. You can’t see it so well from the other apartments. The man who lives there is a… what’s the word? A stay-inside man. You know, someone who doesn’t go out much-- a shut-in! He likes his privacy. I remember once he called the office phone one day in a terrible mood, saying if I got in the habit of housing peeping toms he’d have to inform the police. Horrible old man.”

She tutted disapprovingly.

“Geez, all that over someone looking at his plants?”

“Well, he didn’t say it outright, but I got the feeling it was more about the girl. His daughter, I think, or granddaughter maybe. I never met either of them in person, and for that I thank God.” She blew a kiss towards the ceiling and chuckled raspingly. “Now come this way, I need to show you what to do if the sink gives you trouble.”

With no small effort Gianna pulled her gaze away from the window. The richly colored blooms just across the way captured both her attention and imagination in a way that made her wish she hadn’t given up painting. When the last of the paperwork was settled and she was alone in her-- her!-- apartment, she returned to the spot and stared.

At the center of that mass of plantlife, that color swatch of eden, there was a big ceramic fountain with even more flowers filling up its basin, taking root who knows where. Delicate vines dotted with purple and yellow flowers spiralled up the center statue, a broken, half-eroded thing which must have once depicted a human figure, though now all that remained was an offwhite pair of naked legs and the beginning of a torso.

After a few minutes of languishing by the sunlit sill like some lazy housecat, a door slid open and Gianna saw a figure enter into the garden. She took one look and knew this must be the man that the landlady spoke of. He was wearing a dark dressing gown over his clothes, which hung loosely from his bony frame, and moved as though he were ankle-deep in quicksand, plodding through the mass of green at a snail’s pace. As he came more into view, Gianna began to glean why. The man’s face was sallow, sunken, with an unscrupulous smattering of pure white stubble on his chin. Even from a distance, he was unmistakably ill.

Just like the beauty of the terrace garden had caught and cradled her attention, so too did the ugliness of its master. She felt bad for spying, but it was like a car crash on the highway or a particularly inane online argument; she couldn’t look away.

The man pulled on a heavy pair of gardening gloves and a paper mask and began to prune and pluck at certain growths. He gathered and sorted the clippings into little plastic bags. If he had some sort of system driving his path, it was an inscrutable one. After a while of picking through the garden seemingly at random, he retreated back inside.

However, just as he was shuffling through the sliding door-- the phrase, “back from whence he came” came to mind-- he paused with his hand on the glass and raised his head. He turned and, as if guided by some preternatural intuition, stared directly into Gianna’s window.

Their eyes met and Gianna withdrew with a gasp. Of course after the moment had passed, she laughed at herself for her reaction. There was no way he’d been looking at her. Coincidence paired with a chronically overactive imagination had made her see something where there was nothing. He was a sick old man with a perfectly normal hobby, not some sinister ghoul.

Nevertheless, she lowered the blinds and kept them lowered for the rest of the day.

-----

By Monday, Gianna had more or less forgotten about the creepy old man and his garden. There was unpacking to do, furniture to acquire and then spray with bedbug killer, and most importantly, a fancy new job to buy some fancy second-hand clothes for.

That was maybe overstating things a bit. She was hired on to work with a small team restoring and preserving a local university’s art collection. The reality of the occupation wasn’t glamorous, but it was dignified. It was something Gianna could and did take pride in, undoing the damage wrought by the passing years one cotton swab at a time, revealing the beauty underneath.

Being back in the city, she nostalgically recalled a field trip to the Metropolitan back at the age when the nude sculptures made her classmates giggle, earning rolled eyes from the chaperone, and made young Gianna deeply uneasy in a way she didn’t yet have the words to explain. But it was the women with the flowing finery and piercing painted stares that caused her insides to flutter with something like hope. Billowing skirts caught in suspended animation mid-twirl, whether staged in the dramatic light-vs-shadow games of the baroque period or abstracted by a million tiny brushstrokes in a more impressionistic style. They had changed something in her.

But in spite of her love of the arts, she could never seem to sum up the same confidence when the brush was in her own hands. After long struggling on her own, she reluctantly accepted her dad’s offer to put a word in for her with connections at Fordham. Once upon a time the idea of returning to her dad’s alma mater would’ve warmed her with pride. Now she was just thankful the surname Alexander was common enough that the chances of anyone recognizing her was slim. The last thing she wanted was to start her first day with people already thinking she was only here by the grace of her family connections.

In spite of all her apprehensions, her first day went by without a hitch, save for the belated realization that she’d forgotten to tear the tag off her new blouse. She didn’t think anyone noticed. By the time she stepped on the subway that evening she was practically vibrating with a frantic, ecstatic energy that didn’t abate into exhaustion until she was home and sweating off her six-story hike. That, more than anything, was going to take some getting used to, she mused.

She shed her good-first-impression suit in favor of a cropped halter top and sweatpants. The setting sun cast beams of golden light through the slats in the blinds and over the back of her neck, the curve of one freckled shoulder. It wobbled iridescent through the glass and on a whim Gianna got up to open the window. There was that sweetish scent on the wind again, overpowering even the smoke that wafted up from the tenant below as he ground his cigarette butt against the masonry. Innocently, almost incidentally, she cast her gaze upon the little eden. There was someone new in the garden today.

The woman in the violet dress was opposite to the old man in every way. Dancing through the garden, touching every bloom and bud as if it were the hand of a treasured friend, Gianna had never seen anyone more alive. Short, dark curls like fiddleheads bobbed around her plum-flushed cheeks. In the pink twilight, she almost seemed to glow.

It wasn’t like Gianna to start waxing romantic over a stranger. She hadn’t felt that sort of blind infatuation since her first year of college, when she left home for the first time and a whole new world of opportunity suddenly opened to her the way it never could have with her passionately Catholic mother looking over her shoulder. This, she reasoned, must be something like that. She was just getting high on that feeling of possibility and freedom again.

Before she fully realized what she was doing, Gianna had opened the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. She climbed from platform to platform until the neighboring terrace was only a stone’s throw away, until she could hear the young woman’s voice as she murmured fawning nonsense to the flowers. In her distraction, Gianna’s foot slipped on the last rung of the ladder. She caught herself, though not gracefully and not before making a notable clamor on the way down.

The woman’s head shot up. Her eyes were the same color as her dress, and there was a leaf caught in her hair.

“Hey,” Gianna said, trying and failing to recover smoothly.

“...Hi.”

She swallowed. “I live up there.” She pointed. “I’m not, like, a burglar.”

“You wouldn’t be a very good one,” the woman said with a timid, uncertain smile.

She stepped away from the ledge and started to walk away. As Gianna’s heart sunk, she glanced back over her shoulder.

“I just need a refill.” She held up an empty plant mister. “I’m coming back.”

“Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t,” she said under her breath, hands covering her face from the embarrassment. What is wrong with me?

“Are you the new tenant? My father said there was someone new. He hated the last person who lived in that apartment.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “But, I mean, I’m sure he’ll like you.”

She huffed a laugh, taking some comfort from the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one so utterly awkward at introductions.

“I’m Gianna.” She put out her hand, although it was obvious she couldn’t reach to shake it.

The other mirrored the motion. “Beatrice. It’s a pleasure to meet you, new neighbor, and a relief.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?”

Beatrice fiddled absently with her dress, twisting one thin strap around her finger. “None of the other neighbors ever come to say hey. It’s been boring.” She smiled. “You don’t seem boring.”

That fluttery feeling returned, the tender thrill of standing before a piece of artwork. Here like there, now like then, something just clicked.

Insects filled the silence with their buzzing hums of contentment. A butterfly alighted onto Beatrice’s shoulder as she settled on the garden wall and a faint woozy feeling overcame Gianna as its wings slowed, spasmed, then went rigid as it fell motionless to the ground.

--

next chapter

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - they steal an old pirate ship

I'm alive!! I'm so sorry for just ditching you guys, but I was in Shasta for a week and didn't have any internet access so I wasn't even able to say that I was gonna not update. But I hope this nice, semi-long chapter makes up for it!  Reminder that this is also available on FF, Inkitt, Ao3, Webnovel, and Wattpad

On a completely different note, I'm going to be starting to write a book. Like, a real published book. It'll take a few years but I'm determined and I love the idea I thought of so if any of you are interested, email me at oceanbreezq68@gmail.com and I might be willing to send some samples. I want input, badly. And all the people in my life are biased. Total strangers on the internet are totally made for this, right?

I recently got into readers marauder era fanfics and I'm already in too deep, gays (and yes I meant to say gay, we all know it if you're reading pjo fanfiction). There is no escape.

Anyway, I'm running out of prewritten chapters, so I have to get to writing that while preparing to write a book. Wish me luck! Happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈✨

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Run it by me again. Just one more time," Steve asked, still highly confused.

They had made it to Florida and were now at a private dock. Percy had just briefly explained his control over any water vehicle and the Captain was not getting the point.It was understandable. Percy still barely got it.

However, they didn't have a whole lot of time, and every second they wasted discussing Percy's weird powers was another second Annabeth's captors had to hurt her. They did not have time for this.

"We are going to steal a boat, and I'm going to sail us the rest of the way," Percy sighed.

"Ok, but, how are we going to sail it if only you know how to do it?" Steve asked.

Even Piper was getting frustrated now. "He can control the boat! We won't have to do anything! The boat will listen to his will! Oh my gods!"

"But how is that possible!?" Steve shouted.

"How would I know?! I was just born with the freaky powers!" Percy yelled right back, getting fed up with this never-ending conversation.

Jason decided to cut in before things got too out of hand. They had to save Annabeth.

"Guys! This doesn't matter! What matters is that we save Annabeth, and we can't do that if we're stuck here arguing over something that is out of our control," he said.

Percy huffed. "He started it."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "How does Annabeth put up with you?"

"Honestly? No idea," Percy smirked.

"Let's just get going, team. We have a boat to steal, right?" Tony asked.

"Yep. And I think this place has the perfect one for the job." The son of Poseidon then started walking away, apparently following his weird sailing powers.

I guess we're supposed to follow him, thought Piper.

Ω ♆ Ω

"This is supposed to take us through the most cursed waters on the planet?" Bruce asked, looking the boat up and down.

"Yes. Isn't it beautiful?" Percy said and smiled, running his hand along the side.

Tony leaned over to Frank. "Is he seeing the same boat we are?"

Frank just shrugged, used to Percy's weirdness by now. Honestly, it was a little hard for him to imagine the team taking what was in front of them to Polyphemus' island. It seemed like it wouldn't survive the normal ocean.

To be clear, what Percy was suggesting they take was an old pirate ship, currently on display inside of a warehouse at the dock. It was covered in dried-up barnacles, and the mast was split in half. There were also holes all along the sides. It was a miracle the thing hadn't crumbled already.

"Yes, Tony, I am. This thing will run for me. It doesn't even need to be repaired, I can handle that. The only thing that matters is that it is built to withstand the type of waters we're going out in," Percy said. "We need all the advantages we can get."

Natasha, to everyone's surprise, spoke up, "I think we should trust Percy. If he says it'll work, then it'll work. He's the son of Poseidon, right? Nothing can hurt us while in the ocean. Am I correct, Percy?"

Jason cleared his throat and gave Percy a significant look. The Avengers needed to know that they were basically powerless in the triangle. The older teen looked ready to explain, but Frank spoke before he had the chance.

"Actually, no. The Sea of Monsters is outside of Poseidon's realm of power, hence the name. Percy won't have the same access to his father's domain as he does out here," he said, "So, basically, we're entering a dangerous situation, with no backup, and an inexperienced team. Should be fun, right?"

The Avengers were shocked, to say the least. Not at what the boy had said, but who had said it. As far as they had seen, Frank wasn't as confident as his physical form portrayed. They were wrong. Frank was confident, and his friends were proud of him for it, too. It had been a large transformation from when Percy had first met the son of Mars.

"Well, I think we should start heading out. We want to get as far as possible before the sun goes down, right?" Piper asked.

"Right," Percy nodded.

She wasn't really certain about all of this sailing stuff. Sure, she had been on the Argo II, but that was different than an actual boat. For one, it could fly and was controlled by a gaming console. She hadn't really bothered learning how to actually run a ship for that.

But now, she had to act like she knew what she was doing, and that was scary. The Avengers may put on a confident front, but she saw the insecurities in all of them. Some were harder to find than others, but finding insecurities was her specialty.

They really were going into a completely unknown situation. At least Piper and the Seven had been in this world for a little while, but the Avengers hadn't even encountered a monster before. It would sure be a shock when they were faced with some of the worst ones for their first fights. So, she and the rest of the demigods had a responsibility to be the examples, no matter how much the "adults" liked to point out that it was "ethically wrong" for them to do that.

Ω ♆ Ω

Turns out, the kid hadn't been lying about being able to sail the ship. Tony would be the first to admit that he was skeptical of the structure of the vessel, but he was proved wrong when, after the group had gotten the thing into the water, it had started to magically prepare itself for departure. Not a single drop of water leaked into the interior; it was like the water simply moved around the holes.

It was spectacular!

Before he knew it, the group had settled into the boat and were moving away from the dock. The Avengers were marveling at everything around them, considering that Percy wasn't even steering the thing, and yet it was supposedly moving in the right direction. To add to the shock, the ship's parts were moving themselves. It was not logically possible, and yet there Tony was, watching it unfold like some kind of acid trip.

"This is...amazing," he muttered, leaning against the rail with Leo, who he had taken a certain liking to. They were a lot alike.

The son of Hephaestus grinned, "Right? I told you guys Percy had cool powers. You should see him with Blackjack or Arion. It's wacky, man!"

"Who's Blackjack and Arion?" Tony asked, noting the new names.

"Oh. Right, I forgot. Blackjack is Percy's pegasus, and Arion is Hazel's horse. Percy can talk to them because his father created horses," Leo answered.

And just when the man of iron was getting used to all of this, he was pulled back into astonishment.

Ω ♆ Ω

After a couple hours of mingling and exploring, Percy called the team up to the deck. He had started to feel it a while ago when he knew it was still a distance away, but now he knew that they were approaching the Sea of Monsters.

It was a blank spot for him. Everywhere else, he could feel the ocean's power thrumming, waiting for him to control it. But here, there was nothing. Considering they were in the middle of the ocean, it was pretty obvious what it was. That was how he had tracked the place down without a map. It was his blind spot. He would just follow the blankness like it was the North Star.

Once everyone had gathered, he told them the news, and to say the atmosphere changed was an understatement. What smiles they had had disappeared, and their expressions turned serious.

"It's time, guys. Get ready. The first thing we're going to come up on is Scylla and Charybdis. We have to go through them to get into the sea. Now, I've planned this so that we should hopefully be able to pass through without any problems, but with six demigods' luck, we shouldn't rely on that too much. Charybdis only feeds three times a day, so if I planned this right, we should be able to pass over her without a fuss. Everyone got it? Be prepared for a fight, but don't expect it, please. We don't need any more reasons for the Fates to curse us."

Hazel stepped up, "Should the Avengers help us if we end up fighting something? Or should they just observe how we deal with monsters first?"

"We can handle ourselves," Steve defended.

Jason sighed, fed up with the same old arguments, "Alright, that's it! The Avengers will let us take the lead in any fights we may or may not end up in. They will not do anything without one of our approvals because we have actual experience with these beings. They will not be put on the sidelines, but they will also not be on the front lines. Does that work for everyone?"

Percy sent a thankful grin to his cousin, "Thank you, Jason. And yes, it does."

Jason just nodded in return.

"Alright, gang! Buckle up! Make sure to keep your hands and feet inside the ship at all times, and remember, the sword points away from you. It's showtime!" Leo cackled.

Just as he finished, they entered a wall of mist, which was unsettling to say the least. The temperature dropped almost three degrees as they passed through it.

Percy pulled out Riptide before steering the ship towards Charybdis. Hopefully, if everything went to plan, they would be out of this Hades-forsaken place by sunrise.

But, of course, nothing ever went to plan on a demigod's quest.

Ω ♆ Ω

Maybe it wasn't the best idea for me to come, was Bruce's first thought as he got his first glimpse at a greek monster. He had taken refuge inside the sleeping quarters of the ship, practicing his breathing exercises. He was really hoping this didn't turn into a Code Green. This was definitely not the place to let the Hulk loose.

So far, it had been silent upstairs, so Bruce concluded that it was going good so far. He had researched the Greek and Roman myths before they had left and on the plane, and everything that he could find on Charybdis was not reassuring. It was true what Percy said, that she only ate three times a day, but nobody really knew when those times were. Until Percy, apparently. He had survived the Sea of Monsters, so everyone on this ship had to trust his judgement in everything they did here. Bruce could tell that the other Avengers were struggling with taking orders from a "child." But Bruce had learned to not underestimate anyone on his travels while in hiding. Plus, look up any demigod's name and there was a whole list of accomplishments to find.

If Percy said that he knew when the monster liked to eat, then he knew when the monster liked to eat. It was as simple as that.

So, ten minutes into their first obstacle, and things were going fine. Everyone was eerily quiet, but no sign of Charybdis or Scylla yet. Of course, as soon as someone thought about it, an outline of a serpent appeared in the fog surrounding the boat.

Frank was the first one to spot it. "Guys..." He looked up at Percy. "We have a problem."

He pointed into the fog and Percy cursed. "Oh schist. I knew she couldn't just leave us alone."

The Avengers had figured out that something was coming and were unsure what to do. The demigods seemed to be just waiting like sitting ducks for the thing to attack them, and that was not a good plan. The Avengers don't wait for their opponent to strike first.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going to see what it is," Tony mumbled, activating his Iron Man armor.

"No, Tony! That's not a good-" Piper got cut off as the billionaire flew off, "...idea."

If she couldn't yell at that idiot, she was gonna yell at his teammates. She turned around, prepared to cuss out some idiot "superheroes," but Hazel beat her to it. "What was he thinking?! Why didn't you idiots stop him?! He has no idea what he's getting himself into! That monster is NOT something you guys can handle without our help! Mortalium tam stultus!"*

Natasha appraised the small demigod. She sure was a young spitfire. And from what she had seen already, a powerful one.

"Ok, let's just calm down, alright? Tony should be able to hold his own until we can go save his stupid ass," Leo sighed. Working with mortals was draining.

They were always so brash about things. And yes, coming from a greek, that statement was pretty hypocritical, but it still wasn't a lie. He idolized Mr. Stark's work, but man if only the guy could learn some restraint and he would be perfect.

Just as Leo had spoken, an explosion was heard, followed by a muffled string of curses. Only Tony Stark could come up with those creative swear words, so at least there was proof that the guy was still alive. For now, at least. The group needed to get that soon.

"Alright, hold on! This is gonna get bumpy!" Percy shouted, steering the ship towards the sound of fighting.

He willed the vessel to move faster, and it, of course, obeyed. In his head, Percy was just thinking rush rush rush. They needed to get this fight out of the way and get to Annabeth right after. Percy was praying to any god that would listen for there to not be any more disruptions to their journey. He just had to be confident in his skills. He had done this before, so he knew what lay ahead of them.

And it was going to be a challenge.

Ω ♆ Ω

Tony would deny any claim of him being held in the mouth of a sea serpent by his leg. Cuz that didn't happen. Totally.

But if it did, then the rest of the questing group would have worked together to fend off the monster until they could get away. Percy would've used Riptide to stab the monster in the leg, while Jason flew up and used his gladius to cut open her eye. The rest of the group basically just put on a full-frontal assault until Scylla released their idiotic teammate. Leo blew some fire, Hazel manipulated the Mist so that the Avengers could all see it for what it was, Piper made it loosen its grip with her charmspeak, Frank and Clint released some well-placed arrows, Natasha fired some gunshots, and Steve sliced into it with his shield.

All in all, the thing realized quickly that it was outmatched.

Then, after Tony received a very stern reprimanding by Piper and Steve, the group carried on. They didn't have time to dilly-dally. Saving Annabeth was their top priority.

Ω ♆ Ω

Meanwhile...

"Let me go, you skatá!"* Annabeth screamed, kicking her captor in the knees.

She had been knocked out as soon as they had shadow traveled, so she hadn't woken up until an hour ago. When she had, her wrists and ankles had been shackled to a stone wall with imperial gold shackles. The terrorists had stepped up their game.

There was dim lighting, but from what she could figure out before, she was in a cave of some kind. They had completely cleared out the area around her, so there weren't any visible location markers. That is, until they moved her.

The people who had grabbed her were strong and bulky and covered in black. They had black combat suits with black ski masks covering their features. Stereotypically, Annabeth would've figured the goons to be stupid, but they kept her shackles on and put a sack over her head so they at least has someone smart on their team.

Annabeth was getting really sick of not knowing anything, though.

So that's where she found herself at the moment: as a "defenseless" hostage. It was quite comical, really. Did these idiots really think that she would go quiet?

She felt one of her kicks come into contact with a kneecap and heard a satisfying grunt of pain from one of the thugs. Good, she thought, I hope that hurt.

Then, she was thrown onto the cold, stone floor and forced to hold her head up. The whole situation was so stereotypical that she wanted to laugh. But then she also didn't want to come off as more psycho than her captors, so she kept it to herself.

"This is quite interesting," a voice said, "The prideful daughter of Athena, reduced to a simple mortal's hostage.

The sack on her head was yanked off, so Annabeth spat down at the man's feet, glaring at him with a burning hatred. Taking a quick survey of the room, Annabeth found that she was being held captive on Polyphemus' island. The room was the main room of his cave; the one where she, Percy, and Grover further blinded the cyclops.

"If you had actually gotten me on your own, it might have been impressive, but having to use monsters is just pathetic," she said.

The leader growled and kicked her in the jaw. It didn't have enough power to break it, but it did cause her to bite through her tongue.

Annabeth spit out the blood produced in her mouth, dirtying the man's shiny shoes. The guy would have to do a lot worse than that to scare her.

"Hmm... I like your spirit. It's going to be that much more fun when I break it," he hissed, kneeling down to her eye level.

"I hope you rot in Hades," is all Annabeth responded with.

The guy laughed. ACTUALLY laughed. So, he was a crazy sociopath hades-bent on tearing down the natural order of the universe, Annabeth decided, how nice.

Ω ♆ Ω

I kinda really love this and I hope you did too. Now, to get into some unasked political shit: Love is love. I like all genders, and I still don't want to see any of them practically having sex in front of me. So just, accept yourself and others for who they are and move on. Is that so hard? Happy pride month & happy Father's Day!!

- your author

PS Remember to comment, like, and reblog!

other chapters :)

Ω ♆ Ω

Bonus scene!

The group was spending time in the dining room of the ship when all of a sudden, Percy remembered something truly horrifying. Like, beyond disgusting!

“Oh, my gods! Guys!!!” he exclaimed.

Hazel rolled her eyes and said, “What, Percy?”

“Charybdis is my half-sister! Ew ew ew ew ew EW EW EW EW!!!” Percy shouted his answer.

Everyone simultaneously gagged.

(Inside, Steve was starting to get seriously concerned about these kids’ chaotic family.)

[idhrenniel]

BLINDED BY THE GLOW.

➴ Summary: feelings last, even when the hollywood sign blinds you.

➴ Pairing: JP Cappelletty (Rook) / fem!reader (3rd POV).

➴ Warnings: Angst, 18+: sex.

➴ Wordcount: 1.8K

➴ Tagged: Homie as usual @angelaiswriting​

➴ Author Note: Hi! I’ve opened up a Ko-Fi page. If you like my content and would like to support me, you will find the link to it in my bio. You can also search my name (renmartell) up on the Ko-Fi page. Thank you!

(Y/N) doesn’t know where she is. In some loud club in downtown LA that is giving her a headache. She can see Joan somewhere in the crowd, dancing with strangers… Martha is long gone. She sits in the bar and waits for the night to be over so she can return to the hotel and sleep what’s left of the trip.

It’s not that she’s ungrateful, she’s just… tired. When Joan told her she had planned a weekend in LA before the wedding, (Y/N) had thought it meant sunbathing and shopping at rich people’s stores, not a tour through all of the clubs this shithole of a town has to offer. It’s been a long time since (Y/N) gave up this kind of life for a more tranquil, domestic one, and not once has she regretted her decision. Not as much as Joan has in her behalf, at least.

A weekend isn’t much: that’s what she tells herself as she turns around to order a drink. She can do it. If she lets go a little bit, she might even like it. What’s the worst that can happen, right?

“(Y/N)?” An old, forgotten voice calls from behind her.

Oh, the voice in her mind exclaims right before it starts to panic. (Y/N) freezes on her spot, drink on mid-air as she blinks in confusion. “What’s the worst that can happen?” she repeats, mocking herself and cursing whatever is up there that has chosen her to be tonight’s Sims game.

“(Y/N)!” He calls again, closer to her ear this time. Close enough that she can smells him.

She turns around, feigning confusion. As if she has not recognised his voice… which, after so long she shouldn’t have (but that’s not something she’s going to think about tonight). She gives it a couple of seconds, one good look at him and then…

… the act begins. “JP? JP Cappelletty?” She exclaims, laughing as she tries to ignore how the side of his mouth curves downwards for a split of second at her words. Not what he had expected, for sure, but all she has to offer after so many years and a lot more than what he deserves.

He’s quick to recover, laughing and opening his arms. “That’s me!” He engulfs her.

She wants to die. She wants her life to end in this exact moment. Because then, she won’t have to let go of him again.

As he pulls back she finds herself missing the contact. She almost grabs him to pull him back against her… but when she lifts her hand the ring glows under the club’s lights and he is quick to catch on it.

JP smiles through a tornado of emotions. “Congratulations.” All happiness is gone from his voice. She nods, lowering her hand and accommodating it in her back pocket.

“Thanks.”

There’s nothing that can make this conversation return to normal (or as normal as it was), but sure as hell he’s going to put through the discomfort and keep it going. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

“No. How could you?”

Her words were innocent… right? Yes! No… she isn’t sure. It’s the truth: she met him in college and the last time she and JP saw each other was in high school. So, how did the truth sound so mean?

JP sighs, dropping his facade and sitting in the stool next to hers. “Ouch…” he laughs. “I guess I did deserve that one, huh?” She nods again. “I waited for a call… it never came.”

“Oh, was I the one supposed to call? I thought being the one still in school and with a decent schedule I was supposed to wait until the rockstar was free to be worth of some words. My bad, I guess.”

(Y/N) shrugs her shoulders and takes a sip from the now watered-down drink she forgot she had. If he is going to drop his facade and talk the real talk she’s going to do the same, and he ain’t gonna like it.

Not one bit. “And since we’re at it. I did call, but I never got a response. I even went to a concert back in Cleveland.”

He frowns, his pose becomes more rigid and he grabs the stool until his knuckles turn white. “What?”

“Yes,” she turns her head back to the crowd, looking for Joan to get her out of here. “Saw a couple of girls headed towards the bus and one of them threw herself at you. You said: “I’ve been waiting for you baby.” And got into the bus with her.”

(Y/N) lets the drink in the bar, sighing. She has turned herself towards him and is now looking right into his eyes. She had forgotten how pretty they were (and she curses herself for thinking so and for the way her cheeks redden at the sight). She rises a brow, waiting for a response. Coming from him, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she never got one.

JP swallows, looking regretful. He tries to speak a couple of times, but when nothing comes out he gives up and orders two new drinks. “I was young and stupid.” It’s his excuse.

Young and stupid doesn’t mean heartless or cruel, no matter what people might think. He was old enough to go around touring with a famous rapper… he was old enough to cut things and not let her hanging from a string of hope like an idiot.

“I was seventeen and pregnant, Johnny.” And you left me alone throughout the process, she wants to add, biting her tongue to avoid doing so. No point in remembering a painful past when she has a future waiting for her at home. Right?

“We decided on not having it.”

“We also decided on not leaving me alone at the abortion clinic.”

Their drinks arrive. JP empties his in less than a second. (Y/N) takes her a small sip of hers and puts it down, not losing sight of it. You never know… people aren’t good. She has to be cautious.

With each passing second, JP becomes more and more nervous.

Whatever he’s holding inside him is asking─no, begging─to be let out. It also looks as if he wants to throw up (which she can’t blame him for, giving how much and how fast he’s drinking).

(Y/N) tries to change the conversation to a lighter one. It doesn’t work. He keeps going back to their past and his mistakes and her fiance. She’s not sure she wants to know what’s going on in his mind.

At last, he rubs his face and then faces her. “I fucked up. But not a second has gone by that I haven’t thought about you and the life we could have together. And believe it or not, I still want that (Y/N).”

In all seriousness, this is the most serious she’s ever seen him. Even when he drums he likes to fuck around and not give it importance… but now, now the truth is out there and he’s laid his cards.

Hers? You want the truth? Well, here it goes: the truth is that she wants to beat him up as much as she wants him to take her to the bathroom and fuck her until she forgets her own name.

He’s a lot stronger than she is… so she scratches the first option and grabs his hand, leading him away from the bar and into the back of the club. She opens the door to the bathroom, making sure no one is in there, then closes it and pushes him against the door.

His lips feel familiar and their bodies move in flow. As if nothing had changed. Just the two of them rushing to become one. JP turns them around so that now she’s the one against the door. He unclasps his belt and then presses himself against her. Her dress going up by the second.

“Wait─I don’t have a condom with me.”

“You clean?” He nods. “Me too. Now shut up.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

(Y/N)’s hands find the hem of his trousers and the pushes them down alongside his boxers. His, at the same time, are pushing her dress up to her waist and discarding her panties somewhere in the floor. Not that she’s going to need them (or retrieve them, to be honest. Her dress is long enough to cover). JP grabs her waist with one hand while the other grabs her face and he forces her to look at him as he enters her. (Y/N) tries to bite down her moans but it’s impossible, as her walls stretch to accommodate him, she pleas and curses and wraps her legs around his waist so he can reach deeper inside her. She can’t feel but pleasure, the guilt that tried to make her reason is now gone, not even buried, just gone. Right now it’s him and how he’s moving to pleasure her. How he feels as if he belongs where he is. She moves her hips in sync, kissing his lips as he murmurs words she can’t or wants to understand. Faster, harder, deeper, the sounds emanating from her throat echo in the bad-lighted bathroom. Johnny lets himself grunt, sometimes a moan escapes his lips as well and she clenches at the sweet sound. He trembles, her legs lose strength. It’s not long until he finishes inside her, making her back arch as she herself lets go and feels the wave of pleasure take over her, cumming all over his cock.

He remains inside her for a couple more minutes, until he softens and she’s able to maintain herself on place without falling. His semen now runs down her legs, but she makes no deal out of it.

(Y/N) lowers her dress and brushes her fingers through her hair. She tries to fix her makeup to no avail and then turns around to face Johnny. He’s got his trousers up now and is ready to leave. She had expected him to be gone… but he is waiting for her.

“I’m getting married next Friday.” She walks up to him and gives him a kiss. There’s something in her that’s begging her to not let go. She doesn’t listen to it. “It was nice seeing you. Goodbye, JP.”

As she leaves the bathroom, she notices a pain in her stomach that she can’t ignore. She walks, walks and keeps walking. She doesn’t even stop to tell Joan. If she stops, if she looks back, there’s no way in hell she’s leaving without Johnny. No matter the tears that fall, the weird looks, or the way she can’t hold back her cries, she can’t look back…

… or can she?

[courtorderedcake]

Procrastination: An Apology - Apothecary Shoppe Smut (REPOST)

I did a bad thing.

Instead of writing my piece for @cssns​ that I was supposed to have done a week ago, I present to you this, as an apology. Sorry. Kind of. Maybe. Not really.

Rate E for Enticing. And Explicit. It’s fucking, because I’m not fucking doing what I need to be.

I’ll finish my shit eventually. 

NSFW art available via Pillowfort, this was uploaded in 2018 before but Tumblr flagged it. 

Working in an apothecary has its perks when it comes to magic. For Killian Jones, one of those perks happens to be the beautiful customer that seems to always be buying one thing or another.

Killian idly passed time sorting books as Belle had taught him, waiting for the clock to inevitably bring closing time. His job at the Chipped Cauldron was interesting, the place was small and quiet with only a few patrons at a time. As a discharged and dishonored warlock it was perfect work to avoid any questioning eyes, people unsurprised that a potion maker’s arm ended in a gnarled stump. 

Today had been quiet, too quiet as far as he was concerned. He’d done everything that could be done twice, now back to his third time sorting books. He wanted to go home. It wasn’t even that he had plans other than to go to his flat and drink, but he was having an off day. 

She hadn’t come in today. 

For the last 4 months or so, one Emma Swan (per her scratched signature), had been coming in twice a week to pick up various supplies, and he had found himself enjoying their talks. 

(And, well, her voice, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about the historical constructs behind why there were so little female potion’s masters and how certain ingredients smelled so much better fresh but she would have to make do, or how breathtaking her shoulders looked when she took that red jacket off. He wanted to bite one just to see the mark against that pale skin -)

No. He frowned deeper, eyebrows furrowed. If this wasn’t his place of work that his friend Belle had painstakingly gotten him, he would pursue her aggressively like he had in bars for a quick fuck… But no, actually he wouldn’t. She seemed the type that liked gentleman, black glasses pushed up her nose again and again, simple ponytail, cardigan over a summer dress or skirt and blouse. Surprising even himself, he realized he’d court her if she showed any interest in him outside of his fantasies. 

She didn’t. She dutifully came in and drove him insane.

“Hey, herb guy!” She’d yelled at him the first time he saw her, immediately irritating him. He stomped over to the aisle she’d called from ready to give her a good shushing, until he looked up to see an angel perched precariously on a ladder reaching for a jar of gargoyle tears. “A little help? I think I broke your ladder.” 

“Oh.” he said, and regretted how absolutely stupid he sounded. “Ah, yes, here. Let’s get you down and I’ll get it for you.” He extended his good hand towards her, and she took it, stumbling down the wobbling ladder. When she stood next to him she’d looked up at him with kind eyes, and he forgot any reason to be mad at anything. 

“Thank you. It’s an ingredient Belle recommended for a spell I found in old book of Scandinavian curses. They’re heavier than I thought it would be.” She pointed to the jar, it’s tear shaped stones glittering. He climbed and grabbed it, carefully balancing on the wobbly ladder before jumping the last few steps and handing it to her. 

“Here you are. If you need anything else…” He scratched behind his ear, and nodded to his desk area. She smiled at him, and as he turned grabbed his arm. 

“Really though, thank you. Killian, right? Belle told me about you and I appreciate it.” She turned and walked down the aisle, picking up a large pile of books she had collected and placing them in a basket with various ingredients. When she was out of sight, he groaned quietly. Belle talking to people, or warning people he should say, about his irritability was a great end to his and Swan’s meeting. 

(She probably bloody well knew him as the moody, brooding Warlock that occasionally set off a stinging nettle spell to get the odd wanker back out of the shop and on his way, if he was in such a foul temper)

When she began coming in every other day for this or that, he found himself excited to see her. He subconsciously dressed a bit nicer, read books that might pique her interest to talk to him, and on braver days he’d write up signs with potions that could be made with her favorite ingredients, hoping she would strike up conversation. She never noticed him really, a quick hello and then endless torture as she perused or read in their small lounge area.

Swan also had a habit of needing ingredients she couldn’t reach, a talent that he was torn about. On one hand, when he went over to grab her chosen goods, her warm body was so close to his that he could smell her hair or perfume. 

(He was close enough to kiss her neck, or run his tongue down her spine listening to her moan -)

And that, was the other hand. She showed no interest in him, and her sweet demeanor made him feel guilty everytime those jade eyes looked up at him when she apologized for bumping him. That had almost killed him: as he reached for a container of mandrake leaves, some had slipped out and she made to grab them. As she moved up, her beautiful ass had ground against him and he resisted every urge to rut up against her.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m glad we saved these! They’re so valuable, I’d hate to waste any.” She’d smiled at him and he’d quietly adjusted himself at his desk. Lately she’d been winding down the reading and talking to him more, inviting him over to her table to quiz her on her technique or to recommend spell books for practice. He’d helped her edit recipes and directions, hovering over her shoulder while his body begged an end to its needy fantasies. 

(Her mouth in that perfect, pretty shape when she says his name, and he’s buried deep, hot and hard in her warmth -)

She wasn’t here today though, and closing was in 30 minutes. No point for any type of special signs or added charms to brighten the place. He began to lock up, unsure why her absence made him so damn irritable. The door chime went off and his ears perked up. 

“We close in twenty minutes, so please if you’re getting something make it qui - “ 

Swan came down the aisle towards him, and he felt his heart leap. She was wearing a pink dress that made her practically glow, and he was very aware in this moment that it was only them in the building at the present. His mouth felt dry spying a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“I need to get another book, can you help me? I just went on the most awful blind date, and immediately came here because the ridiculously hot herb guy that has been ignoring my flirting would be better company. I just thought, if I’m thinking about him on dates with other men, than he should know. Bluntly. Because you’re oblivious. Is there a spell, potion, or book that could help me with that?” she rambled and he felt his heart beating in his ears. 

“It’s not that simple, Swan, I think you’re wonderful but I’m -”

“Emma. Call me Emma, Killian. Belle told me. Luckily for you, I like broody, ill-tempered, swaggering men who will only make eyes from me across the room.” she smirked deviously, and the heat that swept through him made his skin tingle. 

“I suppose you can’t read a book by it’s cover, you came in here with this… Soft and cutesy attire, besides that red jacket of yours, everything you wore was so - “

She groaned and slid a hand over her face. “I know, that explains so much. My apartment had a pipe explode and everything in my bedroom was ruined. I’ve been staying with my roommate and borrowing her clothing. She dresses like the grandmother of a Disney princess, but it works for her, just not me… However, even if I did dress like this,” she took a step forward with a grin. “I’d prefer someone who could take control.” He groaned quietly, as she pressed herself against him.

“Let me lock up. Stay here.” he rushed to the door, locking it and flipping the sign with a wave. Placing the enchantments on the building, and turning off the front lights, he practically ran back to her. 

“There, no interruptions.” He looked her dead in the eyes, then pressed his lips to hers. They started slow, and then he began kissing her hungrily, as she grabbed at his shirt to pull him closer. Her mouth on his felt amazing, it felt right, her tongue and his exploring each others lips. 

He pulled away breathless for a moment. “Emma, this… I want this, but it’s your last chance to back out if you want to. This can be a one time thing, if you want.” His voice was hoarse as he searched her face. “If you stay though, I’m going to do everything to you that I’ve thought about since you came in here that first day. I’m going to fuck you senseless, do you understand?” 

She panted into him, and nodded. “Yes, please.” she whispered and every synapse in is body lit. 

“Oh thank every star, I’ve waited entirely too long for this.” He crashed his mouth against hers, pushing her against a shelf, immediately hiking up her dress to find her clit. “God’s above you fucking siren.” She wasn’t wearing any knickers, her wetness already leaking between her thighs under the dim lights. He stroked a finger into her, listening to her moan while he circled his thumb on her clit. “That day you ground against me? If I had known, I would have pulled you into a closet and grabbed your ass with both hands, pulled you against me so you could feel how hard I was.” he took her hand and pressed it against his pants, rubbing his cock through the fabric as he added another finger to her wetness. 

Withdrawing his hand as she protested, he licked his fingers. “You’re delicious. I think I’ll have more than a taste. He knelt as her eyes went wide, letting him pull on of her legs over his shoulder. 

Killian’s first slow lick had her eyes closing, and mouth keening out a cry of pleasure. He smirked. This would be easy. He felt like a man starved, slurping and gently nipping when she bucked her hips up into his face, desperate for him to stop torturing her. When her hips shook and he felt the beginning flutters of orgasm, Killian pulled away, watching her chest rise and fall with her panting breaths. 

“No. You made me wait, made me sit there with my cock hard imagining ways to fuck you until you couldn’t walk. You’ll wait.”

Pulling her by the arm, he pushed her against a table, bent over as he pushed her skirt up again. Removing his belt and releasing himself from his trousers, he stroked himself a few times before sliding slow between her folds coating himself. 

“I love the feel of how wet you are, Emma. And, I love the feel of your arse, Gods you are beautiful. I need to bury myself in you, and I think you’d like that, hm?” He gave her ass a smack and she moaned, wriggling slightly. “Here’s the catch love: I don’t care how good it feels, and it will - Do not come on my cock. If you do, I will leave you with quite the reminder when you can’t sit tomorrow.” he chuckled darkly, before hissing and whispering a spell for protection. 

“There we are love,” He nudged himself into position, his stump against her thigh and palm pressed to the small of her back. He slid into her with one hard thrust, sinking with a deep groan as she moaned. He set a fast pace, relishing in how good she felt around him. 

“You’re so fucking tight, your quim feels like magic, fuck, Emma -”

He pistoned his hips, fucking her hard against the table as it rocked slightly. Emma’s moans drove him insane, his body bucking at different angles to illicit keening cries.

“Please, please don’t stop! Ah, Killian, that’s so good!” Her body tensed, and he let out a groan as she came on his cock, shuddering and screaming his name. She panted, and he continued languid movements as she came down from her high. Sliding his body over hers, while kissing her neck, he bit down hard on her shoulder and she cried out with a buck of her hips.

“I told you not to come.” Killian murmured, licking the mark. Pulling away from Emma and out of her heat, he smacked her ass hard, and she whimpered as she tried to press against his hips. He continued hard smacks until he was satisfied, running his nails over the reddened skin. “Turn over, love, and on your knees. That’s a good, lass.” 

Killian presented himself to her, and Emma took him in her mouth, swallowing him to his base. His eyes rolled back into his head, as he felt her hands lightly press on his thighs, her tongue swirling as he tried not to ram himself down her throat. 

Spreading his legs further apart, he wrapped his fingers in her hair as she bobbed on his length. His breath came in harsh pants as she hollowed her cheeks, his release close. 

Pulling her back as her mouth made a satisfying pop around his cock, he pulled her up to claim her mouth with his. He placed her back on the table, thrusting into her heat in one precise move that made her moan his name. Her nails clawed at his back while he ground his hips, her walls spasming as he lost himself in a few final thrusts. They panted, his chest pressed against hers as they came down. After a moment he pulled away, a quick wave of her hand and a few pieces of parchment became a set of warm wet rags. He cleaned himself, the rag incerating with a snap of his fingers. While they were still warm from the flame, he traced the line of her collarbone stepping back between her legs while she pulled down her crumpled dress.   

“That was…” Emma whispered. “As I said, it can be a one time thing, if you like.” He pushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. He held his breath, trying not to hope. 

“That’s probably smart.” Her eyes were downcast, and she chewed her lip. 

“Aye.” Killian sighed, stepping back. “I understand, I’ll see you out.” 

“This shop has the best selection and the most knowledgeable sorcerer I’ve met, though. Having access to him after hours might be a perk I’m willing to live with, if occasional dinners were involved.” Her voice was light, and he turned, the small smile on her face lighting her eyes like emerald witch-fire under a cauldron. 

“Warlock, darling. A devilishly handsome Warlock.” He smirked, striding forward and capturing her lips in a kiss that left them breathless. “As for dinner, there’s a diner down the street that’s open late. If you don’t have plans, that is.”

“I do now.” 

[endless-whump]

A Gamble

CW: Attempted suicide, medical whump, panic attack, attempted suicide to escape torture, razor blade mention, threatened caretaker turned unwilling whumper, implied past noncon, dead dove do not eat, this one is heavy

Masterlist

--

“They’re sending people after you, Simon. People like you.  This is getting serious.”

Oliver stopped in his tracks, overhearing the hushed, urgent whispers.  His tired smile faded from his face, fingers grabbing at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie as he paused to listen, willing his breaths to become quieter.

“You know the type of training they get, this isn’t something you can easily hide from.  What if they get a hold of an address? They’re box boys, they could access a safehouse.  What if..Simon, what if they get a hold of you?”

“Mia, I’d never-”

“That's not the point, Simon.  We both know what you’re trained for.  Do you really think you could resist a direct order from him? Even if it was about Oliver?  Be honest with me, Simon.”

“I-”

There was silence for a moment, and Oliver took a hesitant step backwards, shoulders hunched as he remained hidden in the corner of the hallway.

“I don’t know, Mia. I honestly don’t know.”

No..

“Oliver trusts you, Simon.  We both know you wouldn’t be able to deny an order from Cedric, and Oliver wouldn’t be able to deny an order from you.  It's a huge liability and you know it.”

Oliver stumbled backwards down the hall, not quite sure where he was trying to go.  He just needed to go, to get out.

He couldn’t go back, no no no he couldn’t go back.  They were going to use Simon against him.  Simon was supposed to be safe, he always protected him.  He always did.

He knew Simon always protected him, but he also never forgot what he was.

He knew Simon was trained to bring him back.

He was barely aware of what he was doing as he shut the bathroom door, hands trembling as he fumbled to lock it.

If Simon told him..ordered him to come back..he was right.  He wouldn’t be able to say no.

The cabinet was opened, Oliver’s hands almost moving on their own, pulling things out and looking desperately for what he wanted, what he felt he needed

He kept looking, vision blurred with tears and heart racing with panic as he found what he was looking for.

A razor.

He stumbled backwards, back hitting the wall.  He almost dropped the razor, clutching it shakily as he slid to the floor, staring at the door.

He didn’t want to go back, he liked it here. It was safe here. Here meant mornings baking muffins and laying out on the couch and being held. Here meant a warm bed that didn’t carry any expectations, it meant people who were nice to him.

He couldn’t go back, not to him.  Not to Mr Cedric.

He couldn’t bear the thought of going back to endless nights and silk rope and the burning feeling of being hurt and used over and over and over again until he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think and couldn’t seem to even bring himself to want to exist anymore.

He didn’t want to exist, not if Cedric was what existing meant.

--

“Oliver?”

Simon sighed, looking around for the younger boy. Maybe they could go for a walk or something, or start making lunch. He needed to cool off, to reassure himself Oliver was ok and that they were all still here. He needed to ground himself.

He searched their room to no avail, their bed neatly made with no Oliver in sight.  The other rescues just shrugged when asked if they’d seen him, and Simon continued his search in annoyance.

He knocked on the bathroom door, the last place in the small house he hadn’t checked. He was met with silence, and when he tried the handle he found it unlocked. Might as well check, he supposed. It wouldn’t be the first time he found Oliver hiding in an odd place.

“Ollie?”

He pushed the bathroom door open, scanning the small bathroom. His heart stopped at the sight he was met with.  There was a pool of blood on the floor, and it registered half a second too slow whoseblood it was.

His knees hit the floor hard, training taking over and fronting for him, desperation buzzing in the back of his mind.  His jacket was off in a second, the fabric wrapped around Oliver’s arms and pressed down hard, probably harder than it needed to be.

He was trained for this, he was trained to keep Oliver from doing this.  The thought disgusted him, because he knew it wasn’t for Oliver’s own good.

It wasn’t for Oliver’s benefit.  It was an insurance of the safety of merchandise.  An insurance the romantic had no chance of escape, even a desperate one.

Even a fatal one.

That didn’t matter right now, he reminded himself.  Oliver was what mattered, and he was unconscious on the floor covered in his own blood.

“Mia!”He called out, when it finally dawned on him to do so.

He reached up a hand to cup Oliver’s cheek, his skin too pale. He was too pale and too cold and oh my god is he breathing?

He couldn’t lose Oliver, nonono he couldn’t lose him. He was too young, too young and hurt and he was supposed to be happy, he was supposed to get a chance to be happy.

His fingers quickly pressed to Oliver’s neck, eyes trailing down to his chest.  A wave of relief flooded over him as he felt the faint but steady pulse under his fingers.

“Oh my god..Simon is he..?”

“M,Mia..Mia please, he’s alive, please help me-”

She was by his side in an instant, observing the blood soaked shirt and the discarded razorblade on the tile floor.  She paled as the realization set in, moving to help apply pressure to the bleeding wound.

“Simon, I need you to carry him, get him to the couch.”

He nodded shakily, hooking his arms underneath Oliver’s knees and around his torso to pick him up.  They quickly moved out of the bathroom, hurrying to the main room where Mia shooed a group of rescues, playing cards in a circle on the floor, out of the room.

He set Oliver down on the couch, brushing the boys hair out of his face.  Mia was back at his side, a medical kit in hand as she pushed Simon out of the way.

“Has the bleeding stopped?” She asked, opening the kit, her hands shaking as she hastily got out supplies.

“I..I don’t know, I-” He felt like he couldn’t speak, staring, stunned, at Oliver as Mia worked.  He felt numb, like autopilot had taken over as Mia wrapped his arm in gauze, checking him over and getting medication out of the kit.

“Did he take anything?  Were there bottles or pills on the floor?”  She demanded, and Simon couldn’t do anything but shake his head mutely, settling heavily on the floor next to the couch.

“It looks like a lot of blood..I need to call Sandy,” she muttered. “It doesn’t look like he...hit anything, though. I think he’s gonna be fine as long as we get somebody in here to look at him.”

It was probably in a blind panic, Simon thought to himself. Barely knew what he was doing, only responding in a way he felt he could escape.

This is my fault, he thought distantly

“Simon,” Mia said gently, and Simon blinked, looking up at her.

“He’s gonna be ok, I promise.”

She handled his bandaged arms carefully, settling them over his torso as she tucked a blanket around him. He looked so small, bundled up on the couch.

“Can you keep an eye on him? I’m gonna make a few phone calls, try and get someone with a bit more medical training in here.”

He nodded, reaching a hand under the blanket to hold Oliver’s hand. He’d stay there as long as Oliver needed him here.

And so he did

—

Simon startled awake when he heard a loud thump, a body falling to the floor.  It was dark, crickets chirping audibly outside that could be heard clearly in the otherwise quiet house. He blinked tiredly and turned to look where Oliver shouldhave been, only seeing the discarded blanket where he previously laid, unconscious.

“Oliver?!”

He stood, looking around frantically. He was about to call for Mia when he heard a whimper of fear, and Simon’s head snapped to where it came from.  He saw Oliver on the kitchen floor, curled in on himself.

“Oliver-”

“No,nono please S,Simon please..I..I can’t..can’t go back-”

He was trying to drag himself across the floor, red visibly staining the bandages wrapped around his arm.  Simon took a step towards him carefully, and that's when he saw the knife Oliver was trying to get to.

He lunged forward, falling to his knees and grabbing Oliver’s wrists to keep him from grabbing the blade.  The boy wailed, struggling weakly and trying to get away.

“N,NO!” He screamed, kicking uselessly.  “N,No, hhn, no stop, Simon stop, nhh-”

He was in pain, Simon could tell, but he wasn’t relenting. He pulled Oliver to his chest, holding his wrists and crossing his arms to hold him securely as he thrashed, quickly losing his energy.  He sobbed, his begging turned incoherent.

Mia burst into the room, looking around frantically and spotting the pair, but Simon just shook his head.

“I’ve got him,” He murmured

Keeping one arm holding Oliver’s, he pressed his palm against the boy's forehead, forcing his head to rest against Simon’s shoulder so he wouldn’t thrash around as much, staying still and letting him tire himself out.

She darted out of the kitchen, probably to get her med kit, while Simon waited for Oliver to calm down.  He could hear murmuring from the other rooms, probably the other rescues wondering what was going on so late at night.

“S..Simon please..I can’t..Simon..please,”  Oliver gave up fighting, sobbing weakly as he was held in place against the other.

“Shh, you’re ok,” Simon hummed soothingly, trying to comfort him. “You’re not going back, I promise. You’re ok, you’re safe.”

“No,” He begged, but it was quiet, his voice hoarse. “I can’t- you’ll take me back, p,please don’t t,t,take me back, p,please Simon..”

Tears were streaming down Simon’s face, his heart twisting in guilt. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how to promise Oliver he’d never take him back..when part of him didn’t believe himself.

“He..h,he hurts me, I can’t- it h,hurts, Simon, i,it hu,hurts,”

“I know,” Simon whispered, hugging him tight. “I know it hurts. Need you to let me take care of you, Ollie. Can you do that? Please? Need you to trust me.”

It almost felt like a betrayal, asking Oliver to trust him when they both knew he couldn’t, not really. It felt like he was lying as he reassured the boy, and he slowly relaxed, breaths still shallow and desperate.

He glanced at the window as he heard a car pull into the driveway, Mia probably was able to get a hold of their volunteer emt. That, or a neighbor made a noise complaint.

He ran his hands through Oliver’s hair, glancing down at the red soaked bandages, his wounds most likely reopened. Whether that was accidental or on purpose...

That didn’t matter right now

There was a conversation happening at the doorway, hushed and worried voices drifting to where Simon could hear them in the kitchen. Emt it was, then.

A woman who looked in her mid 30s appeared in the doorway, dressed in casual clothes but carrying a large duffle bag with a medical symbol on it. She dropped to the ground beside the pair, grabbing something from her bag.

“I’m Sandy,” she said softly, meeting Simon’s eyes. “Am I ok to touch him?”

Simon nodded, eyeing her as she gently grabbed Oliver’s arm, pulling it out to expose the inside of his elbow.

Oliver tensed, cringing back against Simon in panic at the unfamiliar touch.

“N,no, please don’t-“

“I need you to hold him steady,” the woman said gently. “From what Mia told me, I’m not gonna be able to treat him properly unless we sedate him.”

Simon swallowed heavily, tightening his hold on Oliver to hold him still even as his struggles started to renew.  

“What are you giving him?” He asked warily, watching her bring out a needle and line it up carefully with Oliver’s arm.

“Ketamine,” She hummed, inserting the needle. Oliver whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as she administered the drug. “It’ll calm him down and act as a pain reliever, it'll probably knock him out in his state.” She retracted the needle, putting it aside and reaching up to press her fingers against Oliver’s pulse.

Simon relaxed a fraction as Oliver went limp, head falling forward and tension leaving his body. His breathing became deeper and more even, his hand falling from where he had tried grabbing at Simon’s arm.

“He’s out,” she murmured.  She helped him lower the boy to the ground, setting out an array of gauze and a suture kit on the ground. Simon cringed as she unwrapped his arms, the angry red cuts still bleeding a little.

He could see the smaller lines where Oliver tried to scratch and tear the bandages off, maybe hoping to just bleed out before somebody noticed.

It was reckless. A desperate, panicked attempt that lacked thought-through execution or knowledge. A gamble.

A gamble Simon intended to not let Oliver ever, ever take again, if he could help it.

---

taglist

@insanitywishes @18-toe-beans s @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @spiffythespook@simplygrimly @cinnamonflavoredhugs @finder-of-rings

[kpoppwriter]

Another Killing Game pt. 1

Genre: idk mystery and angst

Words: 1.1k+

Warnings: language, death later on, sensitive topics

a/n: so I made a post a while ago saying I wanted to make a Danganronpa x Kpop crossover series and here it is! this is the prologue/pt.1 I’ll write more if people enjoy it (also I don’t mention everyone who’s in this series right off the bat but they’re all in the tags fyi)

Thump thump

Your head was pounding. The pain was relentless. You could feel a cold floor beneath you, odd since the last thing you remember was…

Thump thump

You can’t remember. You tried to remember where you were, what you were doing, but to no avail. Your eyes finally opened. 

Thump thump

You were in a...dance studio? Now you don’t remember anything up to this point but you were pretty definate you weren’t in a dance studio. Why would you be there?

You groaned as you tried to sit up, moving a little too fast. Your head spun as you looked around the room. There was a couch in the corner along with a set of speakers. You slowly pulled yourself up off the ground trying not to get yourself dizzy again. There was a large mirror on one of the walls, the mirror taking up the whole wall. You walked over to inspect your head for any injuries or maybe the cause of the pain in your skull. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw some movement from what looked like a pile of clothes. You almost fell out of shock when the pile of clothes seemed to groan. You cautiously tiptoed over, your hands up ready to punch whatever was there. Even though you weren’t the strongest, you thought you might be able to at least stun the...thing. 

“Owwwww, my head,”

There’s another person here. There’s another fucking person in this room.You don’t know what you expected from a moving pile of clothes but honestly, you weren’t expecting a person. Apparently, this person had heard you gasp in shock and bolted upright. 

“Jihoon?”

“Y/N?”

You knew him. How did you know him? You recognized his face and his name just slipped out of your mouth. He must have done the same thing because he’s looking at you rather curiously. As if he didn’t actually know you. 

“Where are we?” he asked looking around the room

“Some sort of dance studio,” you answered, sounding rather unsure of yourself, “I’m not sure where we are but that’s all I know.”

“Did you try leaving?”

He pointed out a door that looked like it would lead outside to some building. You mentally smacked yourself upside the head. You couldn’t be completely trapped in this room. Thank god you weren’t alone. You helped Jihoon up (he confirmed that this was his name) and you left the dance studio.

The two of you found yourselves in a  hallway lined with three or four other rooms. You assumed they were also dance studios. Jihoon pointed out a sign that said the lobby was downstairs. If there is a higher being(s), you thanked them for being with such an observant person. You followed the sign to a staircase. It was odd though, this building. All the windows seemed to be boarded up but with metal. Like someone didn’t want whoever was in this building to see outside. The staircase was similarly blocked off. But only the staircase going up. Jihoon, being curious of the locked up staircase, tried to see through the bars.

“I see a sign,” his head was bent in a rather uncomfortable position, “I think it says...recording studio?”

“Are we in some sort of entertainment building?” you questioned out loud

“Maybe.”

Figuring out where you were wasn’t the big deal right now. Getting out of this building was the main priority. You ushered Jihoon down the stairs, trying to hurry out of here. 

You finally made it to a lobby-like area. It actually seemed like a store. You honestly didn’t care that much as you saw an exit in the actual lobby. You rushed over to the doors to see that they were boarded up like the windows. It finally hit you. You were actually trapped in this building. 

“Yeah, we’re all stuck here.”

An unknown voice spoke to you, the panic probably evident on your face. You turned and saw a group of people with the same look of panic on their faces. Jihoon stood behind you, a little intimidated by the new people. You felt a sense of familiarity when you inspected each person’s face but you couldn’t quite place it. How did you know these people?

“You guys woke up here too?” someone asked you 

“Yeah,” you answered hesitantly, “We woke up in what seemed like a dance studio.”

It went quiet for a moment, no one sure as to what to say now. You looked over at Jihoon, who was still apprehensive of the people who just seemed to appear. Just as you were about to say something, the overhead speaker system came to life. A few people jumped at the noise, including Jihoon. A large TV in the middle of the lobby also came to life. And there on screen was a...stuffed bear?

“Hello everyone,” the bear spoke (without moving its mouth, which was real creepy honestly), “I see you’ve all gathered up with your friends.”

“Friends? I don’t know these people,” a guy gestured at all of you.

“Oh, yes you do,” the bear laughed, “I guess I just forgot to give you your memories back.”

Before anyone could question the stuffed animal, a flash of light blasted out of the TV screen. It blinded all of you for a moment before it died away. But in that moment a lot happened.

You remembered everything. You remember getting into your car with your manager before being snatched up by a group of people. They knocked you out. Well, that explains the head pain that still lingered. You remembered you. You were an idol of a big kpop group. You were leaving Inkigayo when all this happened. 

The light died down and everyone’s faces were shocked. It seems like they also remembered everything. As you looked over all their faces, you recognized everyone. You knew these people, some personally and some because they were famous too. All these people were idols too. 

“Now it seems like you all know each other,” the bear giggled

 “What’s going on? Where are we?” the guy from before demanded. You realized that it was Johnny Seo.

“Welcome to my favorite game!” the bear exclaimed, “With your host, me! Monokuma!”

“Mono-who now?” Henry Lau questioned

“What game is that?” Namjoon challenged

“Why, a killing game of course!”

“A what?!” Kino exclaimed, saying what everyone was thinking

“You all are going to be killed off one by one until only one of you is left! And you’re going to be the ones doing the killing~”

“We’re not going to kill each other!” exclaimed Mark angrily, “We know each other. We’re friends! Why would we do that?”

“You want to get out, don’t you?”

It went quiet. The silence almost more telling than words. You all wanted out. Some more than others. And now you were worried what people would do in order to escape.   

[danurso]

Stress

Glynda: and here are the reports about the current grades of the second year students.

Ozpin: thank you glynda.

Glynda: *turns around to walk away*

Ozpin: glynda, could you stay a bit more please? There is something i need.

Glynda: *looking back at ozpin* yes, what is it?

Ozpin: i will also need the report of the grades for the third and the fourth year.

Glynda: weren't port and oobleck the responsibles for these?

Ozpin: yes but oobleck had to leave for an archeologist convention and port had his annual hunting fest to attend.

Glynda: but what about the reports?

Ozpin: that's the point, since they're not available i need you to make the reports for me, i will need all the reports ready in two days.

Glynda: WHAT!? But it already took me almost a week just to make the reports of the second year!!

Ozpin: don't worry, i know you'll find a way out.

Glynda: *gritting her teeth* fine, they'll be ready in two days. *turns around to leave*

Ozpin: and by the way glynda, since port and oobleck are out, i need you to fill their classes.

Glynda: *with a popped vein and a twitching forced smile* as you wish headmaster. *walks into the elevator*

*a few moments later*

Glynda: *leaving the elevator*

Ironwood: *getting in the elevator* good afternoon professor goodwitch.

Glynda: *with a deadly glare* only for you james.

Ironwood: *flinches and gets in the elevator*

Glynda: i have to prepare a report about the grades of more than two hundred students in two days. *massaging her temples* does ozpin even realize how much stress he's making me go through? *sighs in defeat* just to think about all the work i'll have is giving me a headache. hopefully the nurse will have something for it, and to keep me awake for the next two days. *start to walk towards the nurse office.*

???: I'M GONNA BREAK HIS LEGS!!!

Glynda: looks like i'm not the only ones having a bad day. *staring at nora*

Nora: *stomping with a scowl and hammer in hand*

Ren: *getting in her way* nora, stop.

Nora: GET OUTTA MY WAY REN!! ONE THING IS MESS WITH ME, BUT MESSING WITH MY PANCAKES IS ALREADY OFF LIMITS AND CARDIN HAS TO PAY!! I'M GOING TO BREAK HIS LEGS, HIS FACE AND EVERYTHING ELSE ON HIS BODY!!

Glynda: *sighs* as if my day wasn't bad enough, now i'll have to fix whatever destruction she's going to cause.

Ren: you can't do that.

Nora: I CAN AND I WILL!! I WILL SHOW THAT PIECE OF GARBAGE THAT I-

Ren: *pulls her into a kiss*

Nora: *freezes in surprise but starts to melt and drop the hammer to pull him closer.*

Ren: *breaking the kiss* are you calmer now?

Nora: *with a small blush* k-kinda. . .

Ren: why don't we go to a common room? I can make you some pancakes and we can watch the sloth maraton on discovery channel, sounds good?

Nora: *jumps on him and latches on his torso* only if you carry me like a sloth.

Ren: fine, let's go. *walks away with nora latched on his chest*

Glynda: what just. . . *sighs* forget it. After spending so much time with these students i should get used, specially when it comes to miss valkyrie. Still, her mood changed very quickly, it would be nice to get calmer so easily like that, but considering how volatile miss valkyrie is i shouldn't get that surprised by how fast she can change her mood. I doubt something like that wouldn't happen to a more centered person.

Sun: hey blake. . .uhh, you okay?

Blake: *with dark bags under her eyes and a tired expression* im fine.

Sun: please don't tell me you're staying up till late again.

Blake: im not.

Sun: your dead face says otherwise *sighs* i'm only out for a week and when i come back i find my girlfriend in this state, i shouldn't have gone for so long.

Blake: stop talking like you're my father.

Sun: when you're acting like a stubborn kid, i have to take the dad role to help you right?

Blake: shut up, i don't need help.

Sun: well, you look like you need it.

Blake: but i don't, get out of my way.

Sun: no.

Blake: get out!

Sun: *with crossed arms* nope.

Blake: I SAID GET OUT!!!

Sun: sorry, i don't want to.

Blake: *tries to push sun but gets trapped in a hug* LET GO!!

Sun: not until you're feeling better, you need help.

Blake: I DIDN'T ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!!!

Sun: but that's why i'm here, to help you even if you don't want to.

Blake: i hate you!

Sun: and i love you *stroking her hair* and because i love you i can't let you go.

Blake: . . .i told you to shut up.

Sun: okay.

Blake: *getting sleepy* why did i. . .even agreed to...date you?

Sun: i think i annoyed you until you agreed.

Blake: right. . .im so. . .stupid. *hugging him back* and you. . .are so. . .warm.

Sun: why don't you take a nap and finish your business later?

Blake: nnnn. . . *falls asleep*

Sun: *picking her up* hehe, sweet dreams blakey. *walks away*

Glynda: i take back what i said. . . *sigh* i can't understand these teenagers, they can deal with stress like its nothing. . .i wonder how they do that.

Ruby: it's easy when you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend.

Glynda: of course, it's a lot easier when you have a- *stops and looks at ruby who is standing by her side*

Ruby: *waving* hi.

Glynda: miss rose, where did you came from?

Ruby: from my room professor, i was following nora when ren got her *sheepishly* and then i heard you talking and joined.

Glynda: right, and what do you mean with "having a boyfriend makes it easier"

Ruby: not just a boyfriend, a girlfriend also works. It's just that when you're with someone you really like, the world isn't as stressing as it usually is.

Glynda: and how are you so certain of that statement?

Ruby: well, i tested it first hand, whenever im angry or weiss is stressed, we just hug for a bit, cuddle sometimes and we're good to go.

Glynda: oh yes, i forgot that you and miss schnee were in a relationship. But i didn't knew that your presence could tame her when she's stressed, miss schnee always seemed like someone hard to control when angry.

Ruby: and she is, but whenever she's stressed she just comes to me and we hug for some time, after that she gets back to her usual mood.

Glynda: well, maybe that can work for you two, but not every couple is like you.

Ruby: i think they are, just take a look. *walks up to the window*

Glynda: *follows and looks down on the window*

Velvet: *sitting on the grass*

Coco: *pacing back and forth* i can't freaking believe in those guys! Do you know how long it took for me to get those tickets!?

Velvet: *sheepishly* you kinda told me already.

Coco: i told yatsu to keep it and he had the great idea to give them to a blind person store somewhere! I can't believe we're going to lose the movie!

Velvet: i-its okay, we can go watch it another day.

Coco: *groans and lays with her head on velvet's lap* but i really wanted to see "huntsmans: endgame" today.

Velvet: *stroking her hair* we can see it tomorrow, we just need to be carefull with the spoilers.

Coco: *sigh* you're right. . .*with a small smile* well, at least i get to spend the a free day with my girlfriend.

Velvet: *with a light blush* same.

Ruby: see? she calmed her.

Glynda: yes she did, but that's probably just because they have a long running relationship, it's more easy to deal with people's when you know them better and have a good relationship with them, right?

Ruby: well, not always, there are some couples that are always fighting but can still calm eachother down. . .here, just look *pulls them to the corner of the corridor*

Mercury: is it me or you're getting slower?

Emerald: i swear to god, one day i'll sew your mouth shut.

Mercury: *grins* what? emmy is mad cause i won three out of five rounds?

Emerald: *with crossed arms* you got lucky on the last round.

Mercury: yeah, yeah *rubbing his eyes* keep crying baby girl.

Emerald: *with a scowl* i'll show you the baby girl! *pounces at him*

Mercury: *grabs both of her hands, spins her and presses her back against the wall* welp, would you look at that.

Emerald: ugh, you just got lucky again you bas-

Mercury: *kisses her*

Emerald: *pushes him away with a dark blush* w-what the hell are you doing!?

Mercury: i'm kissing you, obviously. *kisses her again*

Emerald: *kisses him shortly before pushing him away* s-stop it.

Mercury: hmm. . .don't want to. *kisses her once more*

Emerald: *tries to push him away but melts on the kiss*

Mercury: now that you look a bit more relaxed, why don't we get back to our dorm so i can take care of these tense shoulders while you call me an asshole.

Emerald: *still blushing* you're an asshole.

Mercury: yeah, i know *throws her over his shoulder and walks away*

Ruby: see? These two are always fighting but they can still help each other to keep their cool.

Glynda: miss rose, while i understand what you are trying to show me, you don't understand the stress i am going through, maybe that tactic can work on teenager's stress, but when it comes to the stress of adults, i doubt it can wor-

???: *bumps past between winter and glynda*

Glynda: *narrow her eyes at the strangely pale boy with black hair and white clothes* excuse me young man, don't you-

???: *glaring at them with his sharp green iris*

Glynda/Ruby: *freezes being overwhelmed by his terrifying aura*

???: ulquiiii!!! *jumps on the boy* good morning ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra: *instantly calms down and looks at the orange haired girl* only for you woman.

Orihime: *pouts* i already told you to call me orihime.

Ulquiorra: and i refused to.

Orihime: what's wrong? You look stressed.

Ulquiorra: nonsense.

Orihime: come on! i'm your girlfriend, you can tell me.

Ulquiorra: *sighs* you are an annoying woman, are you aware of that?

Orihime: *smiles sheepishly*

Ulquiorra: you shouldn't worry about me woman, this "stress" is just an natural response of being on the same team as that shinigami.

Orihime: so it's because of ichigo that you're like that?

Ulquiorra: i can't stand to that man's existence, and i am well aware that he can't stand to mine's either.

Orihime: it's not like that, ichigo just has some. . .trust issues, since your dad betrayed the council and tried to kill him countless times.

Ulquiorra: and made me kidnap you.

Orihime: y-yeah, but thanks to that we got to know each other right?

Ulquiorra: i guess you are correct.

Orihime: just give him some more time to adapt to the situation. even if i can't, i know that rukia will eventually convince him to give you a chance, and on that time you can be nicer with him too.

Ulquiorra: . . .

Orihime: *with a puppy look* pleeeease.

Ulquiorra: *sighs* farewell woman, i will try to be more. . . "friendly" towards the shinigami.

Orihime: yay!! *leaps and kisses him* now what about we get some lunch?

Ulquiorra: *with an practically imperceptible smile* as long as i cook, i will agree. *starts to walk away*

Orihime: *pouts and jumps on his back* my food isn't that bad!

Ulquiorra: *giving her a piggyback ride* it is bad enough to scare me, and i am not supposed to feel any emotion, much less fear.

Orihime: fine, fine, you cook.

Ulquiorra: *walks away with orihime on his back*

Ruby: well. . .that was a thing.

Glynda: Agreed.

Ruby: i've never seen that guy before but his problems didn't sounded much like the ones from normal teenagers.

Glynda: they absolutelly didn't.

Ruby: and yet his girlfriend calmed him down. See what i mean now?

Glynda: i. . .think i do miss rose, but still, where am i supposed to find a good man to get in a relationship with?

Ruby: there's a lot of nice guys around beacon, like-

Glynda: *raises eyebrow* guys who aren't just horny teenagers after a one night stand with a "hot teacher"?

Ruby: well. . .that does makes things a bit more complicated, but i bet you can still find someone nice like. . .

Jaune: *walking by* hey ruby, can i borrow your notebook for a bit? I forgot to-

Ruby: jaune! *pulls him closer* see this guy, he's very nice and caring, he was raised in a house with eight womans so he knows how to treat and respect them, he also knows how to cook, sew, dance and much more, Also his massages are really good, and they're great to deal with the daily stress. He's the perfect boyfriend for you!

Jaune: *blushing* w-what? Ruby, w-what's going on?

Glynda: hmm. . .farewell, i will believe in what you're telling me miss rose, maybe having a "boyfriend" can help me to deal with my stress. Mister arc, from now on you are my boyfriend.

Jaune: *deep red* i-im what!?

Glynda: *narrow eyes at him* do you have any problems with me being your girlfriend?

Jaune: *sweating bullets* n-no, not at all professor goodwitch.

Glynda: good.

*two days later*

Glynda: *laying on jaune's chest* i must admit, these last two days have been wonderful to me mister ar- i mean, jaune.

Jaune: *playing with her hair* same, i mean, it was kinda awkward how fast things went but, i'm happy nonetheless.

Glynda: me too.

*knock-knock*

Glynda: i'll get the door. *gets up and opens the door*

Ozpin: good afternoon glynda.

Glynda: good afternoon professor. Can i help you?

Ozpin: i'm here for the grade reports of the third and fourth year.

Glynda: the grade report. . . *pales. internally* oh god, having to deal with all those classes and doing couple stuff with jaune made me forget about the reports, what do i do now?

Ozpin: is there anything wrong?

Glynda: n-no, no, nothing is wrong, i-its just that. . .that. . .

Jaune: here professor ozpin. *hands him a huge pile of papers* Professor goodwitch here was so overloaded having to teach three classes at the same time that she forgot in one of the classrooms.

Ozpin: thank you very much mister arc. *checks the papers* just as organised as ever, thank you very much professor goodwitch.

Glynda: err. . .you're welcome. . .professor.

Jaune: just that? All she gets is a thank you?

Ozpin: what do you mean mister arc?

Jaune: what do i mean?  Do you know how hard it was to teach three classes at the same time while making reports about two hundred different students?

Ozpin: well. . .

Jaune: all that plus her usual huge load of paperwork?

Ozpin: i. . .im afraid i don't know.

Jaune: of course you don't! you just sit back on you chair drinking coffee all day while she has to deal with not only her work but yours as well, what kind of headmaster are you!?

Glynda: *speechless*

Ozpin: . . .

Jaune: so let's make a deal okay, tell port and oobleck to do their jobs and start doing your job of headmaster as well, glynda here will take a few weeks off after these last excruciating days, and you'll cover her on that while, sounds good right?

Ozpin: . . .mister arc, i'm afraid that-

Jaune: if you don't agree on these terms i'll have to call my mother, y'know my mother right? Council member, ex-student of beacon irina arc?

Ozpin: i-irina. . . *gulps and pales* arc?

Jaune: so, are we good?

Ozpin: *having vietnam war style flashbacks* y-yes, i believe we are. . .now if you excuse me, there are some things i have to take care of. *shakily walks away*

Jaune: thought so. *closes door*

Glynda: *with her jaw on the ground*

Jaune: *grinning victoriously* what?

Glynda: h-how?

Jaune: a perk of living under the same roof as eight womens is that you learn how to blackmail and scare someone, specially if one of those womans is my mom. And i know how hard you work to keep this school running, you deserve some time off.

Glynda: a-and how did you managed to make the reports? It took me a week to make the report for just the second year.

Jaune: i didn't, my sister's wife works for atlas and she's really good with computers, she managed to make a program that evaluate all the files of the students and automatically makes an report, it basically makes your work for you way faster than you could possibly make.

Glynda: *speechless*

Jaune: i already installed the program on your computer, i hope you don't mind, it's just that- *gets pulled into a heated kiss*

Glynda: *dragging the kiss for as long as sue can before breaking it* jaune arc, where have you been all my life?

Jaune: *blushing* i-i. . .well, uhh. . .

Glynda: you know, as a teacher, i should always take care of my students, but now you were the who took care of me. . . *whispering on his ear* i guess that means i need to return the favor right? *pushes him against the bed*

Jaune: *blushing even more* y-you don't need to-

Glynda: ohh but i want to~ *straddling his waist* so behave, unless you want to get punished *cracks her riding crop*

Jaune: *gulps* 

Glynda: that's better.

*jaune then had a long anatomy class, one he would probably never forget*

[raindrenchedstories]

Star Runners. 1

Here’s that new story I was working on. I hope you enjoy.

Two women sat across from one another. One tall, toned, and scarred all over. The other, short, bubbly and smudged in grease. The tall one tapped her finger on the table. “I don’t know. Runnin’ supplies is one thing. Tagging planets? That’s a whole new ball game.”

“I get that. And that’s exactly why we’re doing it.” The other sighed. “Think about it Holly. How much does our crew actually do? We show up, unload a ton of stuff, then head back to port for another pick up.” She ran a hand through her long hair, smudging it’s copper tones to black.

“Give me one good reason for me to have a weapons expert, communications officer, medic, and battle harden mercenary on a job like that. But if we start exploring new planets. Finding new worlds for people to settle, and set up relays, everybody gets a shot!” The short one shot up. Smiling like a mad woman.

Holly leaned back, thinking her words over. Eventually she sighed. “Well. I mean. PAM has perfect reason to be here no matter the job. A medic is never useless.” She grumbled. It killed her to admit her employer was right. Then again, it was a comfort to work for someone with a clear head on their shoulders.

That said... “But there’s an issue with that line of thinking.” She waited for her employer to acknowledge her concern before continuing. “You’re going to need at least one more employee.” She sighed.

“Oh. You didn’t think I knew that? Hell no. I’m not walking a full crew onto an uncharted planet blind.” She insisted. “I wouldn’t even HAVE this ship if I didn’t think shit through before hand. I’ve got a few interviews lined up next week. While we refuel and restock. I was hoping to leave the hiring process between you and Sleat.”

“Wait. You want me working with the salamander? I’m not against it but... Why?” Holly cocked her head to the side. The other woman tapped her finger on the table, thinking of how to word her next sentence. Which put Holly off on all ends. “Roxy. Why Sleat and I?”

Roxy huffed. “Well. You’re pretty strict on what sets the standard. Which means you’re not going to just fumble on the interviews. But your people skills are...”

“Woefully lacking?” Holly suggested.

“That. Yes. Meanwhile Sleat is basically a ball of sunshine that talks. He’s great with most people. And well, there’s that language thing of his. So we can broaden our hiring pool. But he’s a bit er...” Roxy hated saying anything ill of her crew. Especially because the ship was so small you could hear damn near anyone at a regular level.

“He’s soft?” Holly had no such qualms. And somewhere down the hallway, a scoff of protest could be heard. Both women were pretty sure they’d find the other three members of the crew standing in the hallway.

“Well. That’s just it. So I’m hoping your high standard will be counter balanced with Sleats kind nature.” Making for the best mix. Roxy gave a weak smile. Almost pleading. At the end of the day, Holly couldn’t refuse. This was the woman who signed her paycheck after all.

“Okay. Fine. Anything absolutes that we should know about?” Holly sat forward, folding her hands under her chin, brow raised. Here, Roxy had a few requirements. Must be physically capable, have good credentials, and absolutely must be flexible in their relations. She couldn’t have someone flake out because they were working with aliens.

It’d take them three days to arrive in port. And by the time they got there, Holly planned to have a list of requirements written out by Roxy, and drilled into Sleats head. The new employee also had a size limit on them. No one who couldn't fit on the ship. So... Compact was preferable. The biggest concern wasn’t so much working with aliens, but the kinds of aliens this person would have to accommodate.

The crew was nearly half alien, with only two humans on board. Holly and Roxy themselves. The others were a Gordylide. A kind of brute species, usually only accredited with the brains of a dog. But occasionally one of human intelligence was born and raised among Orug peoples from that planet. Majority male, looked human but had a retractable muscle mass and spiked back. As far as Holly was concerned, Shanadoh was a fun rival and over all amiable guy. But she could see someone being more likely to act condescending towards him.

A Lutillian female. Basically a werewolf if it had scales and a case of the skinnies. Known for being violent vagabonds that travelled on old slags of abandoned ships. Carrying reputations for being space pirates. The females were especially known for being quick to anger. And yet. Pam was a doctor and a damn good one if Holly did say so her self. Well known for just not giving a damn. Holly was half sure she could saw an arm off, and Pam would not care. Actually, given the fact that it’d just grow back. She probably could.

Sleat was the least concerning. The only problem with his people was that no one really knew them.  Oh, they knew what a Szuhine was. But for the most part, their people were reclusive. They were pretty things, with slender bodies, and delicate fins. A large, tadpole like tail. Though they could also morph their bodies to look different, for some unknown reason. Either bulkier or softer. But no one could say anything about their culture, habits, overall reputation. For all Holly knew, everybody behaved like Sleat. Sunny, and personable.

Holly considered hiring another human to round things out. But in her discussions with Sleat, he brought up an excellent point. “Honestly, I’d say let’s look at credentials and personality first and foremost. If we hired by species, we wouldn’t have Pam.” Best advice the tangerine terror ever gave in her opinion.

---

So when they arrived at port. The two scouts departed. Setting up a small booth with information on what they were hiring for. So many applicants arrived that it overwhelmed them. Running was an interesting job. It allowed you to travel from planet to planet, experiencing the wonders of a new world while delivering supplies to colonizers. Or scouting potential planets free if intelligent life.

This sort of idea was usually well above most folk’s pay grade. It was a chore to get off planet. And most people could only do for a short trip within their own solar system. Even then, there was the risk of pirates. And undiscovered planets? Good luck. Usually people needed a degree in at least two different fields of work in order to be valuable. Usually science and medicine.

Even then, that was just to get on a colonizing ship. Which would also take years to get where it was going. Sometimes an actual life time. Anyone low skilled on those ships were usually only allowed on board if they brought their families. Or significant other that they were definitely going to have children with. Then it was into cryosleep and off you go to who knows where. To live it rough until the planet was settled. And even that took decades.

The smaller, runner ships only took a few days to reach these planets however, and were essential for colonization as a whole. Bringing supplies and livestock that couldn’t survive cryo. Or skipping across the stars to locate potential colonies. Making the idea of working on one appealing to say the least.

So in some mid space port, orbiting some moon Holly forgot the name of, she was forced to socialize with hundreds of humans, aliens, synthetic people, and even a few gaseous forms. Eventually they had to take a break. Promising potential hires that they’d receive a communication one way or the other.

Holly grumbled. “I don’t think I have it in me Sleat. I can’t be nice to people for this long!” She moaned. Sleat just gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Well. On the bright side. We do have a fair amount of help available. It’s sad we had to turn away so many labourers though.” He sighed. Deliberately trying to make his voice calming, in human inflections. They had chosen to sit not too far from their booth near the food court. Both had already shared a light meal. But Holly still seamed distraught.

“You mean ninety percent of our applicants?” Holly snapped.

“Yes.” He winced. “I wish we didn’t have to be so specific. But! We’re never going to find the right match if we just sit here moping about it. Now are we?” He shot to his feet and reached a supportive hand to his crew mate. Trying to be the epidomy of encouragement.

Reluctantly, the human took his hand and made their way back into the thick of it. The process took at least as many days as the travel. In which Sleat had to do a lot of letting people down. Sometimes well received. Sometimes he’d pass the communicator to Holly and let her get her snark out.

Eventually, over many stressful days, they found a match. Well, for the first part of hiring. The second was touring around the ship, and meeting the crew. If any of the crew felt anything was off, the process would start all over again.

---

Roxy stood steadfast at the doorway. For once, not covered in engine grease and god knows what else from the mechanical heart of her darling ship. Cleaned up in proper attire. Sleat and Holly stood on either side of her, still dressed formally, or in Sleats case, prettied up a bit. A little jewellery for the day. Behind them, Shanadoh, in his best white t-shirt and jeans. And Pam. Scales polished to an ebony sheen.

The main door chimed, and Roxy pressed the button to open it. Standing before them was a mousy young man. Bright red hair shone in the artificial light of the port outside. He’d already had several clearly heavy bags that were buckling his thin limbs beneath. However, the moment Shanadoh offered to take them he held his items closer.

“No no! I can carry my own weight. Um. Hello. Captain Roxanne. My name is Chester. Uh. Chester Mainland.” He dropped several of his bags to shake Roxy’s hands. A few making concerning clattering noises. “Biologist, anthropologist, ecologist-” He rambled.

Pam cut in, speaking up for the stunned engineer deemed captain. “I think we get the gist of it.” She grinned. Her voice broke the cloud over Roxy’s mind and the dam broke.

“What is all this stuff?” She blurted out, bemused.

“Oh, just some equipment for the trip. Ah, that is, if I end up being your man. I thought it’d be better if I brought my own gear. Did I overstep?” He suddenly paled, which was an impressive feat considering he was already a few shades brighter than standard parchment.

“Not at all, just... surprising. How about you pass those over to Shan, and we can give you the tour.” She suggested gently. Chester attempted to gather is items, letting gravity catch the rest of his bags. Making for more falling and concerning clunks. The gordylide just patiently gathered them off the floor, offering to hang a few of the lighter ones from the long spikes on his back.

According to Chester, there were no lighter ones. “At least, none that wouldn’t pull or cause you some discomfort. But thank you!” He beamed. Before turning the rest of the crew. “I hate to ask, but who is the doctor on staff?”

Pam perked up. “Are you injured?” She glanced over his person, concern etched into her features.

“Ah! Must be you then! No, not injured. I just have a general exam I need to pass. But the time frame I was given for take off might make me miss it. I was hoping I could reschedule with you?” He gave her a nervous smile. Pam was a little taken aback. As was the rest of the crew. Even her closest friend, no, even SLEAT questioned her credentials initially.

Never the less, she gave a nod. “Won’t be an issue. If you clear the bar today, we’ll set you up day after tomorrow.” She nodded. Though, she left her jaws open just a smidgen. Scenting this newcomer properly. She could catch the salty taste of nerves in the air. Just flooding the room. She shut her mouth.

As Sleat made a point to show off every room of the ship, Pam held Roxy back. “I don’t think Holly would let a creep on board. But that guy is freaking out. Bad. He’s two steps from terrified.” Bright yellow eyes caught up in Roxy’s brown. The two shared a nod, before Pam fell back in step with the rest of the group.

“Sadly you’ll have to share an office space with Pamela, we’re a little tight here. Pam honey, you don’t mind, do you?” Sleat beamed toward her. She gave a shake of her head.

“So long as you keep your samples away from my medical equipment. We’re good. No offence just-” She began, but was cut off by the young man.

“It makes perfect sense! You can’t use contaminated tools to save a life.” He nodded fervently. Making note of where he could store his machines. Glancing back and forth then pointing out a tiny, unused space. Particularly cramped, but if fitted with a pair of tables, it would hold his equipment. He’d just have to stand while he worked. “How about right here? It should be right out of your way!”

Holly bristled a little, before glancing to Pam. Double checking her bullshit detector. The Lutillian gave a subtle nod in agreement. This guy was almost too accommodating. Still, Pam agreed to the idea under one condition. “For the love of god, give yourself enough room to sit. Not all day obviously, but it’s better for your spine if you take the occasional break.” She huffed.

Both women pulled Roxy aside that time. One argued he was too nice. The other argued he was hiding something. Trying to delegate, the redheaded mechanic waved a single hand between them. Hissing to wait until the end of the tour, and she’d sit everyone down and discuss his flaky behaviour.

Eventually, the main rooms were shown off, as well as a sizable cargo bay carrying a surprising amount of nothing for once. It always felt wrong seeing it so empty. It was usually full of livestock, adult or incubating. Or seeds. Now it was just thoroughly scrubbed and disinfected. Courtesy of her kick ass crew.

She followed her team back up the stairs and into what passed for a galley. Really it was a cramped kitchen, and a single, medium table. Enough to sit six people, if everyone minded their elbows. What wasn’t used for cooking or eating was stuffed to the brim with preserved foods, and some luxuries like fresh vegetables and fruits.

All six of them finally took their spots at the table, and Roxy took a deep breath. “So there’s been a concern.” She folded her hands. Sleat pressed his lips in a thin line. A few bitter clicks left him without his consent. He’d been rooting for this lad to make it. Perhaps he misjudged the humans demeanour?

Shanadoh just tilted his head obliviously. He wasn’t an unintelligent man, by Gordylide standards he was fucking brilliant. But he did tend to miss cues. Like three women whispering harshly behind him. Still, these people never led him astray before. If they were discomforted by the man, he’d stand behind them.

“You’re coming off as rather... Twitchy, to my team. Well, the ladies anyways. What do you guys think? Roxy turned her attention to both men at hand. Shanadoh spoke first, leaning back in his chair, as best he could, and folding his arms over his broad chest.

“Honestly so many humans are freaked out by folks like me, or treat us like... I think they’re called dogs? I didn’t notice the difference.” He shrugged.

Sleat on the other hand, started reflecting, on the tour, before coming to a conclusion. “I should point out. We’re a majority alien crew. That can be a little intimidating at first. Especially between two brutes like Shanadoh and Pam. However, thinking back, things are a bit tense. Perhaps it’s just nerves?” He smiled encouragingly at Chester.

He’d begun shaking, hard. “Well... I do admit, they are a little intimidating. Nothing I can’t handle mind you! But... I can’t afford NOT to get this job.” He blurted out. Fisting his trousers tightly.

Holly leaned her chin on her fist. Honestly bored with the whole situation at this point. She’d been getting all kinds of red flags, and this was just one more. “And why not? You’ve got a hell of a resume. You’ve got your pick of Colony ships.”

Pams jaws popped open again, obviously this time. Tasting the air for lies. It was a wonderful habit of her people. So long as you were a friend. No one could slip past the jaws of a living lie detector. Chester ignored this. “W-well. They’d pay my family in a lump sum. But... It’s not really enough to look after them, you know? My mother put everything she could into my college. So I could pursue my interests.” He began.

“She thought there was enough for her and my sister too. But apparently not. Not after a recent raid.” He dropped his head into his hands. “They lost everything in one night.” Those who had lived in the solar system for any amount of time shifted uncomfortably. Everyone but Sleat. Who was oblivious.

With the advent of space travel came the raiders. Folks who didn’t play by the rest of the solar systems rules. Usually mixed species like their own crew. They had a habit of attacking small planets in the system as they tended to be less guarded. Ravaging the sphere of supplies.

No one in any position of power really seamed to give a damn. On a galactic scale, it just wasn’t worth caring about. But on an interpersonal scale, it was always devastating. Sometimes people were taken as well. On those massive warships. Usually women. It was no wonder what that was for. Sometimes they broke free. But it was so rare... “That’s a fucking miracle they got out.” Holly spat. Pam shook her head, folding her arms. Ebony scales made a soft hissing as they rubbed along one another.

“And yet. He’s not lying.” She leaned her head back, gently thumping it on the wall behind her. The table was silent, until Roxy gave a nod.

“So you’re hoping to take a cut of your salary, and send it to your mother. How old is your sister?” She glanced at Chester. He held up his right hand. And then one more finger. Six. Chester had to be at least eighteen, early twenties at the latest. So he’d have to have had his schooling downloaded into his brain. Faster, but not cheap.

“Right. You know there’s a risk you’ll die. Right?” Roxy leaned back, blunt honesty was probably the best she could give him in this situation.

“I’ve already taken out a life insurance policy. So if I do die, they’ll have enough to at least get off that planet.” He sighed. “I get you guys might not be able to give me much of a cut. But aside from the basic necessities, I don’t need anything. So the majority is going to my family.” He glanced up, waiting for the final call.

The captain shared looks with her crew. Most of which nodding. One making a sound of hesitance as she did so. With that, Roxy pulled a few papers from below the table, and signed them. “Welcome aboard Chester Mainland. I expect you here early tomorrow to get your equipment and personal belongings moved in.” She passed her papers with a smile. Chester signed almost instantly, wrinkling them in his excitement.

With all that said and done, Roxy contacted old employers, and contracted a few easy runs to start the lad out with an actual pay check. Though runner work was high paying, the brand she was reaching into was infrequent. Finding a new planet then selling it off to a bidder was a high risk, reward job. Then there were the space pirates and raiders.

It didn’t take long for her to fill the hull with all sorts of live plants, and incubating eggs from all planets. On route to a colony three weeks away. Well, for the small ship. Not an ideal first job, but what had to be, had to be. When her crew was done loading, Roxy took it upon herself to do the supplies count for the trip. Making sure they had enough to feed the extra mouth.

---

Chester returned promptly early the next day. And found the crew... Less than lively. They were a mess of bedhead. Pyjamas and in the case of Shanadoh, very much going back to bed. Any professionalism they’d established the day before shattered the moment the door opened.

The majority of the team shuffled Chester in, shut the door, and collectively staggered to the galley once more. Roxy mentioned something about unpacking later as she slumped into her chair. There was an almost frog like flapping of Sleat feet on the tiled floor of the kitchen.

Chesters bags slipped from his shoulders once more. Though as opposed to equipment probably being damaged, there was simply a soft sound. The sound wadded up laundry makes. He’d been expecting a much more exiting welcome. Though he supposed he was the new fellow.

Instead of causing the main collective any annoyance before they’d had their morning coffee, he headed for the mens dorm. Doing his level best to remain quiet as he slipped in. Chester found a corner and set his belongings silently on the ground. From a bottom bunk, Shanadoh could be heard snoring loudly.

Gently, he rifled through his belongings until he found the small gifts he’d meant to give the crew. A small token of thanks for their acceptance of him. He placed a small bag of strawberry sweets on the Sleeping Gordylide’s pillow, then left.

Once he returned to the Galley there was a spread of easy, fast foods on the table. Piles of fried eggs and bacon, hot cakes and a nearly empty carafe of coffee was being picked at slowly by the four awake members of the crew.  Holly gave him one glance, motioned to the coffee, and returned to her eating.

Pam had a hand fully wrapped around a specially designed mug, and was slowly lapping the bitter black liquid. Sleat was absently chewing on some kind of crab cake. Roxy was more or less asleep at the table. Now was as good a time as any for good things. “So... I brought... things.”

“That’s kind of the point of moving day.” Sleat deadpanned. Chester was about to open his mouth to try again when the szuhine pointed to a sign beside the table. It read: Morning people will either be relegated to making breakfast, or shot. He decided that gifts were probably a thing for after coffee. Maybe after a week or two of living on the ship.

It wasn’t long until he found himself sitting among the small collective, munching on bacon. A treat he’d actually not had since he first visited earth. It was a bit too salty for his taste. He engaged in idle chat with the more awake member of the table. And waited for the rest of the group t o catch up.

Soon after he was unpacked in the lab, setting up his table and chairs, and ushered to pick a cot. He was given time to settle any lingering affairs he had. Go through his exam, and be cleared for extended travel.  Shanadoh appreciated his gift and before they left, Chester managed to hand out the rest.

For the most part it was foods that applied to everyone. Candies or preserved meats. It turned into a feast of sweets before long. Further contributed to by an overzealous pair of aliens who had passions for cooking.  This seamed to be a good first impression. As the crew started involving him their activities before the end of the week while squaring away their own affairs.

Then it was right to take off. For the third time in his life, Chester found himself staring at a planet fading away. He found it strange that only a few hours ago, he was standing on it’s surface. A few hours before that, exiting his hotel room.

He’d expected space travel to be like air or sea travel at first, with turbulence. But past breaking atmosphere, everything was oddly still. Like he were just standing on a planet’s surface. There was a brief moment of weightlessness before the gravity kicked in, but that was it.

Idly, he wondered if that feeling ever left. Eventually he gathered the nerve to ask Pam about it. The way she explained it, it never left. There was always a kind of lonesome realization that they’d left something behind. But it was paired with an eager thirst for new discoveries ahead.  Even if you’d been there before.

By her definition, you had to have good humour about it. Otherwise, you’d drive yourself mad from the sheer sense of insignificance the void would give you.  That’s why a compatible crew was so important. She also encouraged him to take up a hobby. As there would be a lot of free time on their hands.

So, he took up yet another study. Botany. This time downloading textbooks onto his personal device, and leaning back to listen to their lessons. He’d have to talk to the captain about getting materials so he could gain practical experience. Perhaps he’d make a mini biosphere. He’d wait and see.

[vorish-musing]

Dirty Little Secrets

Spoiler Free Summary: Richie needs to Heal Eddie fast, luckily he has a way to do it, the hypochondriac may not be a fan of where it is though.  (Reddie)

Content Warning: This involves soft non fatal g/t Vore, if you don’t like that, please look away. while this fic has safe vore, this kind of safe vore is healing, so this fic contains fearplay, blood and digestion mention (doesn’t happen though)... but it gets fluffy.

Spoiler Warning: this is an IT Chapter Two fic (when they’re adults). So here’s your spoiler warning. This has a lot of the same themes of the actual movie, so please watch that before reading if you care a lot about that kind of stuff.

Spoiler Summary below the ‘read more’ 

Spoiler Summary: Eddie is almost killed by pennywise, but Richie saves him with a gift (or maybe curse) he has. Eddie Is clearly not a fan but there’s not other option available.

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

Eddie panicked seeing Richie trapped in by Pennywises Deadlights. He watched as Richie floated up, following pennywise's open mouth. He held the fire poker to his chest, thinking that this was the end, they would lose, he felt his breath shortening, as if he needed his inhaler. why was he so scared all the time?!  He looked down at the weapon, staring at the sharp end, Beverly’s voice ringing in his head.

This thing kills monsters if you believe it does. 

Eddie looked back up at the clown, if you could even call it that with its spider like legs. It was going to kill Richie. He gripped onto the weapon tightly “this thing kills monsters if you think it does.” he began repeating the phrase to himself, getting angrier with each repeat, until he was yelling. He took one more look at Richie’s milky white eyes and dead hanging jaw. 

Without another thought, he began sprinting towards Pennywise, winding his arm back, and launching the fire poker into its mouth, screaming,

“Beep beep motherfucker!” definitely sounded cooler in his head.

Pennywise made an unholy sound as it stepped back, the deadlights turning off, Richie fell to the ground, his eyes still white and not moving. It coughed the Poker out of its mouth, before impaling itself on a spike in the ground. It let out even more screams, but nothing coherent enough for the losers to understand. Then, Pennywise stopped moving, and everything was silent. 

Eddie took a moment, before running to Riches side, shaking him and begging for the man to wake up. 

Richie couldn’t hear or see anything in the deadlights, and all he could think of was Eddie, how he was probably fucked as well. He failed the losers. And now he was going to be eaten by that fucking clown before he could tell Eddie that--

Richie woke up. His eyes no longer glazed over, he tries to jump up, before falling back down, he couldn’t move. He panicked quickly before making eye contact with Eddie

“Richie! You’re back!” Eddie’s voice sounds exasperated, but extremely relieved. The man smiled “I think I killed it!” Richie looks behind Eddie, then to the other Losers, they’re also looking as relived. Richie sees the lights from pennywise flashing, he didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“Richie, I Killed it!” Eddie yelled so everyone could hear. He kept saying it. All his fear and panic gone. He’d Been Puked on, stabbed in the cheek and tormented by that fucking clown, but now the last laugh is his! 

Then all of a sudden, he felt a burning white pain in his chest. 

Beverly screamed as one of pennywise’s claws rips through Eddies chest. Blood splattering on Richie's face, who began screaming as well.

Eddie stares at the claw protruding through his chest, spitting up blood. He could barely breathe. All the joy and bravery that was in his eyes, was gone. 

Eddie Screamed loudly and writhed around as the claw lifted him up, he heard the familiar laugh of pennywise as he was launched through the air, the losers screaming for him once again, then landing through the narrow entrance of the cave they were in, just missing the cave wall.

Richie, seeing this horrific sight, finally got up, ignoring the pounding in his head and darted towards Eddie, the other losers in tow.

Pennywise sees the losers running, and gives chase. But it was too late, the losers slid between the rocks, and all the clown could do was try and break the rocks away to get to them. The losers knew they had to act FAST.

Bill helped Richie lift Eddie up, who was groaning in pain as it was happening.

“Eddie, oh fuck….fuck…” Richie took off his button up placing it onto eddies wound to attempt to stop the bleeding. He knew that from Eddie. “We need to get him to a hospital” 

“How are we supposed to do that Richie?!” Bev answered, loud, but not angry. she knew it was impossible to get him out of here. Ben went to her side, and so did Mike, consoling her. Tears were cascading down her face.

 Richie tried to get the other losers on board with him. Mike and Ben were shaking their heads no, siding with Beverly. Richie looked to Bill, who wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. 

He understood why they didn’t want to, they would have to stop fighting Pennywise, and let it escape, which Mike would never let happen, and Eddie couldn't climb out of the hole they came from, and he might bleed out. 

Bill, Beverly, Mike and Ben huddled up, talking to themselves about what to do, but he didn’t care. He NEEDED Eddie to live. He…

He loved him.

He never admitted it before now, it was always in the back of his head since adolescents, but he was always scared to admit what he knew was true.

Then an idea hit Richie, he felt stupid for not thinking about it before! 

After he left Derry when he turned 19, Richie left with a weird, craving… he would look at people and get...hungry. Before he forgot pennywise, he thought it was always the clowns last laugh. But when he forgot, he just pretended it didn’t exist… until it got worse. 

Until he shrunk and ate someone after one of his late comedy shows.

It all happened so fast. He didn’t even realize he did it until he felt the person squirming inside, freaked out as much as Richie, most likely more. He immediately coughed them up, running away as they returned to normal size. Nothing came about on the news about it, nor any people coming to his door calling him a monster, so he moved on, thanking whatever god there was that nobody else was there to witness what he had done.

He found out he could swallow people and keep them alive inside of him somehow, he didn’t really have any idea, just knew he could. He would sometimes find anyone he could, and just do it, to satisfy his weird craving.

One time he saw a guy being beaten in an alley way of New York, and normally, he would turn a blind eye, being a quite weak man when it came to fighting (or so he thought),

 but when he heard the homophobic slurs, bringing him back to his childhood, and begging from the man, he realized what he needed to do, he ended up scaring the attackers away with a fake phone call to the police, and when the coast was clear, ate the man. 

The strangest part about it wasn’t that though, it was that after an hour or so, he let the man out. And all the scratches and bruises were gone, only faint scars barely noticeable left. 

Richie knew what he needed to do to Eddie.

 “You guys go ahead and do whatever I’m staying with Eddie.” Richie said, the other losers hesitated, but soon found another way in and began to try and fight pennywise again. It was just him and Eddie, who was looking even worse by the second.

“Richie” Eddie coughed, more blood spilling out his lips “go fight, I’ll be fine” he tried to smile, but it was so clear he was in a lot of pain.

“Eddie, I’m not leaving you” 

“Really, this clown is more important than--”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence!” Richie yelled, tears beginning to fall down his face “ you are the most important thing to deal with right now.”

Eddie closed his mouth, cringing as blood began to fill it, he was worried, Richie was never like this, Richie was more of a pessimistic person, Eddie knew he was a goner, why was Richie even trying to help? 

“Listen,” Richie spoke softly, which surprised Eddie since he’d been yelling the past few minutes. “I can help, and I know you’re going to hate what I’m going to do.” 

Richie felt bad because he knew it was gross, but it would be funny when everything was okay, and Eddie would be complaining. 

He couldn’t explain it to the guy, but he’d freak out and panic and make his wounds worse before he could do anything!

Eddie gave Richie a weird look, but that didn’t stop Richie from grabbing a hold of his shoulders, holding tight, making him cry out in pain. 

“Sorry Eds, it’ll be okay soon”

Eddie wanted to scream at him to stop holding him, that it hurt, and whatever he was doing was NOT helping. 

Then  a dizzy feeling came over him, he could barely keep his eyes open, was this death? It felt a lot different than he imagined. 

Richie let out a sigh as Eddie began shrinking, he picked the man up in his palm, so he could move as quickly as possible without hurting him more than he probably already was. He stopped shrinking him when Eddie got to four inches, just small enough for Richie to get him down safely. 

Eddies head stopped pounding, and his eyes flickered open. He let out a small yelp of shock seeing how huge Richie had gotten. What the hell? “Richie?!”

The giant before him smiled, “yeah its me eds.”

Eddie coughed more blood up “you’re...big” Eddie was shaking, was this Richie? Was this a hallucination? Was this...Pennywise?

“Woah take me out on a date first why don’t ya” Richie smiled, trying to lighten the mood, seeing how frightened Eddie was. 

Eddie let out an exasperated laugh, clearly in shock with everything that was happening.

 He saw the blood dripping onto his hands more and more, he had to act quick. “Listen, please trust what I’m about to do is safe, I’ll explain later”

“wh-AT ARE YOU DOING?!” Eddie was confused at first, what did he mean? Then all of a sudden, Richie opened his mouth pulling Eddie closer.

Richie brought Eddie into his mouth, cringing at the amount of blood that was on his tongue. He cringed as he coated Eddie in a thick coat of saliva, washing away the blood.

“Wait! Stop!” Eddie yelled, the slimy tongue rolling around him, clearly tasting him, it was enough to make him sick.

Eddie panicked, not Richie not Richie NOT RICHIE! 

This had to be a sick joke from Pennywise, bring him into a safe environment, then when the time was right, snatch him up and finish the job It started. Adrenaline finally hit him, Eddie squirmed, Screaming in pain from his wound “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” he kept screaming, if he was going to be eaten by that fucking clown, he would not go down easy.

Richie felt awful hearing Eddie panic, it hurt him hearing Eddie in this much pain. He also felt Eddie moving, and the amount of blood was increasing, so he did the only thing he could, Swallow.

Richie tilted his head back cringing once more at Eddie's screams, swallowing. He knew Eddie would squirm and fight, but it wouldn’t work against him, Eddie was weak from blood loss, but he had to give it to him, he was putting up a great fight.

Eddie clawed as much as he could at the tongue, but it was too late, he was already halfway into the esophagus. God this was disgusting. He was coated in blood and saliva. The sounds were the worst part though, he could hear the gurgling and groaning of the stomach below him, eagerly waiting for his arrival, chilling Eddie to his very core.

Richie cringed as Eddie moved halfway into his throat, but stopped moving, He was putting up a real fight. It didn’t hurt , but it was very uncomfortable. but another swallow, and Eddie was fully in Richie’s esophagus, the muscles gently massaging Eddie down.

Surprisingly, this didn’t hurt Eddie, it just felt...weird! And he was shocked at how… normal it felt!

Yes, Eddie knew that what was happening was the exact opposite of normal, but he had expected pennywise to drop the act now, that he’d line the esophagus with spikes to tear him to shreds, or maybe send a group of spiders down with him to rip him apart.

But… nothing. All  he heard was the drumming of a human heartbeat, beating a lot quicker than normal, the sound of air being inhaled into the lungs, and of course, the sound of where he would soon be below him.

It wasn’t like pennywise to keep things calm. In a way, that scared him more. What was its plan?!

All of a sudden, he heard a voice “ Its going to be okay, fuck, Eddie please be okay.”

Eddie’s heart stopped, he couldn’t tell what was real or not anymore. Was this even pennywise fucking with him? Or was it somehow actually Richie? 

Eddie let out a cry in pain as he was squeezed into the stomach, expecting bubbling acids to melt him away, or maybe even lava instead, but it was just dark, empty, and surprisingly didn’t smell as bad as he thought it would. The thought it would reek like bile, but it really didn’t smell like anything.

He jerked back as he felt pressure on the wall, gasping in pain from his wound. He then realized what it was.

A hand. 

Eddie laid back, shaking slightly, worried any sort of movement would somehow start up the acids.

Unfortunately, he felt the stomach juices seeping onto his back, and pooling into the chamber, he tried to pull away, but at that point, his adrenaline was gone, and he couldn’t move as much as he could before. He could do nothing as the liquid (he presumed to be acid) gathered around him

Richie held his stomach, feeling Eddie move around in there, he could never get used to that feeling no matter how many people he ate. He began massaging his belly, it happily gurgling at its new ‘meal’ inside. Richie knew that the stomach juices would help Eddie heal faster.

All of a sudden, he heard a loud crash behind him, along with pennywise screaming incoherent words “Jesus Fuck!” Richie yelled, covering his ears. He was thankful that he swallowed Eddie before that happened, who knows how the little guy would react.

Eddie Paused, hearing Richie’s voice once again, this time sounding too real to be a fraud “R-Richie?!” oh god, Eddie thought, it this was Richie and not Pennywise I’ll… I’ll…

What could he do? He was already in his stomach; it was only a matter of time before he would be nothing but soup.

“Yeah Eds… its me” Eddie began to choke back tears hearing the happiness in Richie’s voice, was he happy to digest his best friend? Is this what deadlights do to you? questions buzzing in his mind. How?! Why?! Before he could get a word in, Richie spoke again. “You Okay?”

“oKAY?!” Eddie Exploded, the liquid up to his hips now, “YOU. ATE. ME. I don’t even know how this is even remotely possible, not to mention that its fucking GROSS, AND I’m going to DIE in here!” Eddie let out a yelp as he felt the liquid enter the hole in his chest. Again, it didn’t hurt, it just felt weird. “So, no Richie, I’m not Fucking okay.”

Richie flinched slightly, he expected the anger, but not this angry! He thought Eddie would be feeling the healing process already.

“Eddie, I did this to save you! You don’t feel any pain, Right?” Richie paused, realizing how dumb that question sounded “Other than your chest glory hole, I mean” Richie snickered to himself, he knew Eddie would be fine, maybe lighten up the mood with some jokes?

Eddie was about to Start yelling again, especially at Richie making jokes, but paused, Richie was right, not even his chest was in that much pain anymore, and he stopped coughing up blood. He lifted his hand slowly, expecting to see his hand burning away in acid but, it was clean. Even the scratches from when he was thrown were gone!

Eddie looked down, hesitating before bringing his hand to his chest, feeling the open wound, he jerked back. He felt it moving, like it was repairing himself.

“what. The. Shit.”

“listen Ed’s I’d love to explain but—” as Richie spoke, a loud crash interrupted him, followed by Beverly screaming angrily. “I have to help; I can’t let them do this on their own. Just please, stay as calm as possible.”

Richie was never this polite, he never once tried to console him before. This must’ve been serious.

Eddie had so many questions, he wanted everything answered, but he knew what was more important here. “Richie?”

“yeah?”

“I lo—” he backpedaled, realizing what he almost said “Be careful, don’t want you to die with me in here”

Richie’s heart skipped a beat, was he about to say… no no. as far as Richie new, Eddie was straight as a board. He just patted his belly, running back into the fight.

The first thing he was faced with was ben running at him “Eddie?” the other man asked. Richie turned red for a moment, realizing he didn’t have an excuse ready for why he left Eddie by himself.

“uh..” he stammered for a moment “he’s fine” Richie pointed back to the opening, Ben nodded. “lets just go kill this fucking clown.”

Ben gestured for Richie to follow him, both men joining up with the other losers, he was ready to kill this fucking clown with his bare hands, nobody would hurt Eddie like this again, Never.

The next thirty minutes or so were a blur to Eddie, being thrashed about in the small confines of Richie’s belly. He cringed hearing Richie yell, the man's voice booming around the chamber. He prayed to any god out there for Richie to be okay.

He tried feeling his wound again, it didn’t hurt at all anymore, so what was the harm? He placed his hand on the hole, and instantly he was intrigued. It was so small now! he felt the enzymes around him building his tissue back up and healing him. It was so…fascinating.

He brought a hand up to his cheek, feeling the gauze where Bowers had stabbed him, and carefully peeled it off, he cringed at the tape pulling at his skin, and winced at the cut opening once again, filling his mouth with blood.

Without hesitation he submerged his entire head into the Liquid, feeling the cut begin to heal instantly. He could feel the tissue and skin repairing. He brought his head back up to breathe, the cut still healing itself as he sat there.

As he finally got to explore the area around him, Eddie realized how not bad it was. Sure, it was slimy, and gross, and weird as hell…

But it was also...soft. And the sounds around him weren’t as scary, the stomach gurgles making him feel better knowing they were helping him live, other than being the catalyst into his death. Of course, he could never let Richie know this, that would be too weird. 

But then he wondered, does Richie like this too?

As Eddie was having a calming time relaxing in Richie’s belly, Richie was having to juggle excuses on Eddie's whereabouts, while also fighting Pennywise. 

Once the being was finally defeated, the losers noticed the world around them begin to break, and began to book it out of there 

“Richie! Go get Eddie!” Mike called, Richie just shook his head 

“He’s already out of here” Like they’d believe that one, nice going dipshit. Richie thought to himself. 

Nobody decided to question him, but they all knew it wasn’t true. They’d rather focus on all of them not dying, compared to Richie being sneaky. 

Mike was noticing how much Richie would grab a hold of his stomach, though. 

Once the losers got out of the house, Beverly, Bill and Ben dropped to the ground, laughing out of pure adrenaline and shock, Richie just stood there, holding his stomach, trying to be inconspicuous about his real intentions.

“Richie, you okay?” Mike looked him up and down, gesturing to Richie’s hand clutching his stomach.

Richie paused, thinking of an excuse “Jesus fuck mike we just crushed a heart of a baby clown thing, you think I can feel a bit Ill?” the losers laugh softly at the words, mike just nodding. he felt Eddie tense at the idea of Richie being sick with him inside but calmed when realizing it was a lie. 

After that Bill, Ben, Beverly, Mike and Richie didn’t speak, spending the next hour in silence outside of the neibolt, on the ground, speaking only to lighten the mood with jokes, (this was mostly Richie)

At one point, Beverly sat up, turning to Richie, who was still lying down “is Eddie dead…?” the rest of the losers turned to Richie as well, all clearly worried about their missing friend.

Eddie only tuned in when he heard Richie’s heart speed up, pounding fast. His breathing became irregular, but only Eddie could really tell. He gasped softly as Richie’s stomach tensed around him, Richie was afraid.

Carefully, Eddie made his way to the stomach wall he presumed to be the ‘front’ placing his hands on the organ and began rubbing. He wanted to send a silent message to Richie that he was there for him, and that everything was going to be okay, he didn’t care about how gross it was at this point, it was Richie.

The man tensed, feeling Eddie rubbing him from inside. He had never had a willing participant doing this before, it felt fantastic! It was quite soothing as well, knowing someone was there for him, and that someone was Eddie Fucking Kaspbrack.

“Eddie is…” he paused, seeing Beverly's eyes begin to water “Eddie is alive, I got him out of neibolt, got an uber to take him to the hospital.” 

Beverly began crying out of pure relief, and so did ben. They didn’t care how strange the situation sounded, all they cared about was Eddie being safe. 

“We can visit him when he gets out. He told me he wants to be alone for a while, so we won't see him being a baby in the hospital, being spoon fed by his mommy.” 

This made everyone laugh, well, except for Eddie, Richie feeling a small kick from inside.

At that point, the Losers decided to leave, ben and Beverly leaving together, bill and Mike going their own separate ways. Richie, being the last one to leave, took one last look at neibolt, before making his way back to the town house.

He was glad to see it empty, going up to his room, lying on the bed. “You doing okay Ed’s?” he finally spoke out, poking the lump underneath his shirt, chuckling as it moved around and away from his hand.

A muffled voice called back to him, “I’d be better if you let me out Tozier, I need some questions answered.” 

Richie hushed the person in his belly, “Yeah yeah I get it mom” he laughed, but he felt a little upset, wanting to keep Eddie in their longer, really enjoying the feeling of him inside. Moving and massaging, he swore, sometimes he could feel him breathing. But he would never keep him in longer than he wanted to, except if he was hurt, like this time. 

Unbeknownst to Richie, Eddie too didn’t want to leave. It was nice to be close to Richie, he was never able to get close to him as a kid, Richie always being very inappropriate with jokes about Eddies sexuality when they got a little too close. (he has since apologized, but it still made Eddie nervous to show his true feelings)

Richie Sighed, getting back up from his bed, heading to the bathroom “Eddie, please don’t move, it was hard enough getting you down, if you’re moving a lot, you’re not coming out”

Eddie felt a seed of guilt plant inside of him, knowing he had possibly hurt Richie, he also couldn’t blame himself for moving and freaking out, he did think he was about to die after all, he called back an okay, staying as calm and still as possible.

Richie focused on Eddie in his stomach, tensing the walls around him, pushing the tiny man back up the esophagus. The muscles began to pull him back up from the esophagus to the throat, soon enough, Eddie was back in Richie’s mouth. Richie opened his mouth, taking Eddie out.

 Eddie Cringed at the change in lighting, trying to get his eyes to adjust. Once he could actually see, he looked up at Richie. 

Richie was staring at Eddie with a worried stare, wanting to make sure he was okay. Eddie lifted his shirt, a very faint scar left from where he was impaled. Nobody would’ve known he was almost dead a few hours ago. 

Eddie looked like a mess, alive, but a mess. Saliva made his hair stick out every which way, and he was coated in saliva as well. Richie held back a laugh, then began regrowing his friend. 

“There.” he said, helping Eddie stand up straight once he was back to his normal height. “You should take a show-ER” 

All of a sudden, Eddies Lips were on his. 

Eddie, out of pure impulse, had kissed Richie, the man who Eddie has had feelings for since childhood, the same man who saved his life. 

Richie was in complete shock; his brain didn’t know how to function with Eddies lips on his. This was his dream for over thirty years, and… he was doing fuck all! 

Eddie pulled away, covering his mouth and hanging his head down in shock and despair. “I-I...I’m s-so-”

“Jesus Christ you sound like Bill.” Richie spoke , laughing, still in complete shock. His face flushed a bright red.

“You...You’re not mad?!” 

“I…” now it was Richie's turn to stammer and panic “I’ve always wanted you to do that” Eddie smiled, “maybe not when you were covered in my saliva, but I can make do.”

“Oh man I’m sorry.” Eddie laughed “but its really not my fault you ate me” yep, still fucking weird to say out loud. 

“Hey, I did it to save your life.”

Eddie nodded “I know saying this is absolutely not enough, but thanks. For absolutely everything”

“Take a fucking shower and come to my room when you’re not slimy,” Richie walked out of the bathroom “if you don’t… maybe I’ll just keep you in there next time” 

“Not really a threat Tozier!” Eddie yelled quickly, before covering his mouth, it was too late to backpedal, what the fuck is wrong with me today?!

Richie turned back, slowly closing the door, “good to know Kaspbrak ...Good to know” and before another word, he slammed the door shut, walking back to his room, missing the feeling of Eddie being in there already. 

After a few minutes, Eddie came into the room, wearing a new set of clothes, the others just thrown out. “Still can’t get the smell of your spit off of me.” and exaggeration, but it did take a lot of soap to make him smell normal again

“Ah yes the same spit that saved your life huh.” Richie smiled, sitting on the bed, reading emails from his team back in New York. He tapped the other side of the bed, right beside him. Eddie sat down.

“How did you know it would work?”

“Well I did it before.” the answer was plain and simple “I can heal people who are about to ring death's doorbell, crazy right”

“So how the fuck can you do that.”

Richie sighed, adjusting his glasses “well, I’ve been able to do it since our first fight with IT” Eddie nodded “I just got hungry, and no matter how much I ate I was always hungry. At one point I blacked out after one of my shows, woke up with someone inside. It was awful. They were trying to rip me open.” 

Eddie nodded “Did you know how to get them out?” 

Richie Laughed, “It took me a few hours, but I got it. Too bad though. The guy was a fan, and I swear I saw him again like a year ago at one of my shows, every time I looked in his direction, he averted his eyes.” 

The two of them laughed, “wish I could’ve been there” 

Richie stopped, smiling sweetly at Eddie “I wish you were there too.” Eddie looked down, trying to contain his embarrassment. 

“Listen Richie, I’m sorry for what happened in the bathroo-”

“Eddie, I like you, but if you don’t shut the fuck up with your sorry’s, I will hate you.” Eddie put his hands up in Defeat. “Clearly I liked it since I didn’t stop you, I was kind of dreaming for that to happen for a while.”

Eddie looked back up “how long?”

“I don’t know, since we were teens. I don’t have it on a calendar for you”

Richie then got a pillow thrown onto his face, and before he could get it off and yell, he got another one.

“So, you’ve liked me all of middle AND high school” Eddie grabbed another pillow. Hitting Richie with each word “AND. YOU. DIDN’T. TELL. ME?!” the last swing, Richie caught it “I thought I was being to obvious back then.” Eddie wasn’t mad, he was just playing, his laughter filling up the room, he felt like a kid again.

Eddie knew the real reason why Richie didn’t share his feelings, it was the same reason why he didn’t, they’d be crucified by anyone around! 

Richie grabbed the pillow; it was his turn to hit Eddie “ I. was. Stupid!” Richie began to laugh, pummeling Eddie with pillows. 

The men fought with the pillows like they were kids again, finally stopping when Eddie surrendered. Richie turned to Eddie, their noses touching. 

This time, it was Richie who leaned in for the kiss, and Eddie didn’t hesitate to kiss back.

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

And there we have it! my coping mechanisim i created after watching the movie, if you enjoyed, please don’t be afraid to request some stuff, I would love to write more!

[audreysjensens-blog]

“amazing.” {audrey jensen imagine}

heyyy my babies!!! here’s something to tide you over before the next bi-curious and the virgin. if i get enough requests for a second part i’ll make it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tom Holland.  Bar none,” Noah said, leaning into the couch and shrugging his shoulders.  “Most accurate Spider-Man.”

It was just past ten o’clock at one of Brooke’s Halloween extravaganza parties, and clearly your group of friends was getting increasingly heated.  With open booze available on every surface and the closest people in your life around you, you had never felt safer or happier, giggling at Noah and Jake’s argument.

“But Tobey Maguire!” Jake cried, leaping up on the couch and almost crushing Brooke under his sneakers.  “Tobey.  Maguire.  He’s the original!”

“Canon-wise, he blows!”

“Take it back!”

“Guys!” Audrey yelled, halfway between laughing so hard she was snorting and supreme annoyance.  She feigned waving her arms in an attempt to get them to calm down, but then finished with a, “What about Andrew Garfield?”

You tipped your head back and snorted as Jake and Noah leapt back into action, missing Audrey’s initial look back to you.  You missed the beginning of her staring, tracing along the column of your neck, wondering what would happen if she got her lips on it.

But you did catch the end of it.  Your eyes locked, she turned away with a timid laugh, and your blush started to overtake your face.  Of course, you were assuming you were overthinking it, and she was probably just seeing some sort of piece of string from your clothes on your collarbone.  Audrey, on the other hand, was kicking herself for her leering; just because she sometimes liked to look at you didn’t make you anything other than straight, which was what she presumed, and falling for a straight girl was precisely at the bottom of her list.

Emma, sensing obvious tension between you and Audrey, cleared her throat loudly to get all of the attention on her.  “Everyone.  It cannot be a party without some classic party games, which is why I have…” she reached into her pocket, producing a silver coin.

“This.”

Immediately, hoots and hollers erupted from the crowd, and you leaned into the circle, crossing your legs and preparing for the game to begin.  Audrey, on the other hand, started to lean back and raised her hand weakly.  “How does this work?” she said, looking more to you than Emma.

“Okay,” you said, blushing again at the prospect of being so close to Audrey’s ear in the loud room.  “So, one person whispers a question to the other, and the answerer says their answer out of context to the group out loud.  Then someone flips the coin.  If it’s heads, the person who asked the question gets to say it out loud, which kind of lets up the secret behind the person’s answer.”

“Ah, I get it,” Audrey said, tapping you on the shoulder in thanks.  “Thanks.”

You tilted your chin in a you’re welcome motion, moving to settle back in your spot next to Emma, when Audrey looked at you again, and you got so caught up in her eyes, and her cheekbones, and the way her hair swooped over her forehead, and God, her lips-

“Y/N?” You realized that you’d completely been sitting in silence, missing her question.

“Sorry, sorry, just zoned out for a second,” you mumbled, internally kicking yourself at your momentary check-out of one of your friends.  God, she probably wasn’t even interested, you thought to yourself.  Just because someone might be into girls doesn’t mean they’re into you.

“It’s okay, relax,” Audrey giggled, leaning back onto her spot with Noah.  “I just- your face is kinda red.  You okay?” she asked, gesturing to her general visage.

Oh.  Fuck.  She noticed.

“I’m fine!” you spluttered out, a little too fast to be perfectly plausible.  “I, just, uh.  Drinking does that,” you said, despite the fact that your obviously full cup cancelled out that statement.  What you meant to say was you do that.  You make me blush like crazy and I look like a red mess.  It’s all because of you.

“Okay!” Emma yelled out, making everyone in the immediate vicinity quit their conversations and join the circle, turned towards Emma and waiting for her to make the prime first move.

At first, you thought that she was turning towards Brooke on her other side, giving you enough time to prepare yourself, but then she was turning towards you, whispering the first question into your ear.  In turning to her to focus on what she was saying, you missed Noah’s insignificant slap on Audrey’s arm and his whispered, “Jealous?”

“Alright,” Emma whispered, still giggling.  “How long has it been since… You kissed someone? And did you like it or not?”

You didn’t want to answer that.  Especially in front of Audrey- She probably thought you were another one of those useless straight girls.  You weren’t completely out, but you weren’t straight, either.

You looked across the circle, and, seeing Noah whispering into Audrey’s ear and her giving him a half-playful half-angry slap, decided Fuck it.

“Four years.  And no, I didn’t,” you announced proudly to the circle, a second before your embarrassment rushed in and you pulled your jacket higher up your neck to cover the splotchy blush.

Everyone leaned in as Emma slowly went to flip the coin, you praying to every god you knew to please, please let this answer remain unknown, I didn’t think it through, when the coin came flying back down.

Heads.  Up.

Fuck.

“The question was, when was the last time you kissed someone, and did you enjoy it!” Emma shouted cheerfully, and as the crowd put the pieces together, laughter and cheers for you rung throughout the room.  Panicking and not really sure what to do, you started to bring your drink to your lips, only to have the cup slosh all over the front of your jacket.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, sure that your face was preparing to get even more supremely flushed.  Standing up, you raced upstairs and into Emma’s room and, realizing you forgot a towel, walked into the bathroom.

You started running the water, dunking the towel under and trying to get the stain out before it set, and trying to get your heart under control.  You hadn’t even looked up to see what Audrey looked like, let alone if she reacted at all to your running aw-

“Y/N?”

Instantaneously, the voice coming from right behind you shocked you into dunking your sleeve-covered arm under the faucet.  Turning around, you were met with the wide and regretful (but, as you could attest to, attentive) eyes of Audrey Jensen.

“I’m so sorry! Oh my God,” Audrey mumbled, reaching behind her to grab another towel.  “I’m so, so sorry.  That’s my bad-“

“Audrey.  It’s okay,” you said, half-sighing and half-laughing as you started to shrug off your jacket, masking your nervousness around Audrey with the ruined coat.  “I’ll just leave it here until I leave.  It’s too damp to wear.”

You started to pull your jacket off of your shoulders, revealing your crop top underneath and accidentally exposing your midriff, which, she would also claim accidentally, Audrey was completely transfixed with, pulling her eyes up only when she realized you were turning around.

Hanging up the jacket on the outside of the door, Audrey and you both stepped out of the bathroom and onto the landing above the stairs, leaning against it and hearing the muffled music blare in from downstairs.  You could feel Audrey’s eyes on you in the half-darkness, and before she could, you spoke.

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” you said, looking over the railing.

“It’s no problem,” she said, turning so that her back was pressed against the metal rail, trying her hardest to make her voice come out even at the proximity to you.

There was a tepid silence between you two again, when you spoke up.

“Four years is a long time,” you said, letting out a low whistle.  “I can’t believe I admitted that.  I should’ve lied.”

Audrey turned to you then, concern written over all of her features, and placed a hand on your arm.  You stared, almost bug-eyed at the warmth and contact, when you realized that she was still speaking.  Damn it, Y/L/N, you thought to yourself.  You really so touch starved you won’t listen to your friend?

“Hey, at least the truth is out there,” she said, laughing.  “Although, I’ve got to say I’m kind of surprised.  A lot of people talk about you.”  Like me, to Noah, she thought, but definitely was going to keep to herself.

“If it’s guys, I don’t exactly care anymore,” you said, leaning over the banister and letting out another long, long sigh.  You didn’t care enough to really keep it a secret anymore; your parents knew, and so did Emma and Brooke.  Audrey might as well, even being someone who was into girls and wasn’t ashamed of it.

Audrey froze, feeling time almost move in slow motion as she looked over at you, confusion painted on your face.  “You’re…”

“Not straight?  No,” you stated, tossing your hands up in the air.  “Technically, that kind of prevents my first kiss from being valid.”

Again, Audrey felt between freaking out in ecstasy and elation and empathy.  It was tough to come out to anyone, she knew, remembering back to when she told her father.  And to have never kissed anyone you felt anything for?  She couldn’t imagine.

“Well,” she said, leaning down and taking your hand, at which you felt close to blacking out.  “Thanks for… You know.  Telling me.  It’s not easy.”

“Thanks,” you whispered dizzily, leaning most of your weight on the balcony again.

In a blinding second, an idea occurred to Audrey; Was it crazy? Yes.  Was it absolutely batshit insane?  Yes.  Yes.

But did she want to? Yes.

“Look,” Audrey said, removing her hand from yours and crossing it over your chest.  Her voice was close to wavering, her trying her hardest to keep it at a steady and confident level. “I know that neither of us really drink, besides what your jacket soaked up tonight, so I wouldn’t be offering if we had.  But, if you want to experience your first ever gay kiss, I’d be completely down.”

You whipped over to her, trying as you might to maintain your composure.  Did she just… You were keeping your hands from shaking and easily saying yes, yes, please.

Looking up at her, you made the decision before your brain could catch up with your mouth.

“Let’s do it.”

Audrey, for one, was completely blown away at the literal second it took you to answer.  And, before she could really think it through, she took your hand, said “Follow me,” and led you into Brooke’s guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her with her foot.  At the loud bang, you sat back on the bed and giggled, looking up through your hand at the girl you were definitely going to make out with.

Audrey walked over and sat next to you, and the panic set in you again.  To squash it, you leaned over and looped your arms around Audrey’s neck, slinging your leg over hers and effectively straddling her waist on the bed.

“Is this how we’re gonna do this?” you said, worried at her momentary lack of response.

“Yes, yes, sorry,” she said, her arms snaking around and settling on your waist, causing your blush to creep back in and return.  “You just… surprised me is all.”

“Well, get used to it,” you mumbled out nervously, voice cracking all the way at the close distance you were from her.  You weren’t expecting much; maybe another a speech about how it was okay to be gay, but all you really wanted was-

“Maybe I will,” came Audrey’s confident voice, her deep blue eyes sinking into yours as she leaned in and started pressing kisses to your neck.  You lost eye contact the second that you involuntarily let your head fall back, leaning in and so responsive to her touch that a warm feeling started to rise up in your stomach.

You got lost in the moment, your hands rushing up and running your fingers through her short, dark hair as she started to focus in on a spot on your neck that made you shiver.  It felt-

“Amazing,” you moaned breathily, involuntarily snapping back to yourself and bringing a hand back to cover your mouth.  Audrey, on the other hand, caught it before it could reach your lips and placed it back on the back of her neck.

“It’s okay to touch me,” she whispered to you.  “It’s okay… And don’t think I don’t wanna hear you.  It’s hot.”

Hearing her say that was something else; you felt your blush rise back up into your chest, and she watched as your eyes flicked back up to hers, half-smile glowing in the dim lights.  “I’ve always thought your blush was cute,” she mumbled, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.  “Never thought I’d see it up close though.  It’s even better.”

She slowly reached down and started pressing her lips to your collarbone, your neck column, the underside of your jaw, the sensitive place behind your ear…

Then she stopped, and your eyes fluttered back open to find her inches away from your lips.  You were suddenly so aware of where you were; straddling Audrey, your thighs on either side of her legs and her hands on your exposed midriff, when she leaned in.

And everything faded away.

It started slow, but with no lack of intensity.  You brought your hand up to cup her face, pressing your lips to hers again and again and again, that swooping feeling returning in your stomach.  All that you knew was that you had to be close to her, pressing your chest to hers and sighing as she slowly sucked your bottom lip into her mouth.

Before you even realized you were doing it, you were fiddling with the buttons on her shirt, undoing the first two before she pulled back.

“Is this okay with you?” she said, starting to unbutton them herself, when you stopped her hands.

“More than okay.”

She grinned back into the kiss, shifting your face from side to side as her kisses got more languid and long, hands moving all over your body as you finally finished the column of buttons on her shirt and slid it off of her shoulders.  She took the lead from you then, never breaking the kiss, but tossing her shirt to the floor, giving you an incredible look at her toned arms and exposed collarbones.

You spent a second admiring the view in front of you before you both started up again, you leaning down and, with a little help from Audrey, pulling off your tank top to leave you both in just your bras.

Skin to skin felt unnameable; as Audrey laid you down and your tongue lightly swept into her mouth, you felt her lower back get warmer as she emitted a low whine.  Unable to keep yourself from smiling, you leaned in again and matched her grin as you both started to ramp up.  Her hands were on your face and under your skirt and yours were tracing a patch of skin on her back that she really, really seemed to like, going off what sounds she made when you traced your fingers over it.

Lost in the frantic touching and heated kisses, Audrey flipped you two over so that your back was on the bed, then dipped her hand under your thigh to sling your leg over the back of her so there was no place the two of you weren’t touching.  Your mouths got more and more fervent at the same pace as your hands, her tongue sweeping into your mouth with your happily granted access, and one of her legs, between yours, moved up and brushed against you; you didn’t know if it was intentional, but it was surprising in the best way, and you involuntarily let out a loud moan, and-

“Audrey?  Where are you?” came a voice accompanied by a loud bang of the door again, revealing Noah standing in the doorway.  You quickly scrambled away from Audrey and grabbed a pillow to cover your exposed chest as he spluttered out an apology, panic-stricken and practically sprinting back out the door.

When the coast was clear and Noah-free, you realized that Audrey’s hand was still on your thigh, and you smiled, looking up at her as you both broke into giggles.

When that subsided, she spoke again, almost as if not to spook you.

“So…”

“Yeah,” you responded, fiddling with the throw pillow in front of your chest.  “That was… Something.”

A silence fell between you again, before she spoke up.

“You know, if you’d ever like to do this again, maybe we could… I don’t know.  Go out or something before?”

Your heart rushed with fondness at the girl in front of you, face so hopeful and, at the same time, a little scared, that your answer seemed to almost fall out of your mouth.

“I’d love that.”