#stop look and listen that's the green cross code

[wiiildflowerrr]

@5SOS: He's been waiting about 15 minutes to cross this road cause he's scared hahahahaha

@Calum5SOS: @5SOS why would I risk my life to cross the road it's called common sense motherfucker I'm out

6 August 2013

[leviathanspain]

he’s got that fire

doctor strange x reader

synopsis: you have an unusual relationship with your mentor/boss, and when he asks you to be his date to an important awards ceremony, you can’t help but relish in his fire

a/n: stephen strange is so lana del rey coded omff, so heavy sad girl vibes. i haven’t proofread and it’s longer than any of my usual works i think.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he always told you how much of a gift it was for him to choose you. it was always like that, he chose you, like some god. that he had made your life better by choosing to be in it. he repeated that to you whenever you became ‘insubordinate’.

you never really argued though. you knew that it wasn’t ever the right thing to do, especially with someone so arrogant, you’d be wasting a breath and your career if you did so.

but you learned to live with his narcissism, he was the best surgeon in new york, and arguably in the states. his credentials are why you’ve never argued back.

this day was not any different.

“i said that we should do the shunt.” stephen stared at the films. he was cross, had been since the morning and was now profoundly irritated but hadn’t stated why.

“you’ll kill him. think about it, what if we do another approach in a few days? give him enough recovery time so that when you actually do the surgery, he won’t die on the table.” you explained your decision, but stephen had already stopped listening. he was shaking his head, clearly none of this was going as he wanted.

“stephen-“ you closed your eyes, already preparing to apologize for undermining him, when he shushed you. “i-“ you scoffed but didn’t say anything else.

“we’ll do it tomorrow. it’ll be the first surgery of the day, i want it to go well.” he recycled your idea, and turned around with a nod, “get me dr. palmer. i want her to be in there.” he demanded.

you looked up from your notepad and raised your eyebrows, “you don’t want me in there?” you were his student, his resident, you were assigned to scrub in on all his surgeries-

“no. i want dr. palmer. that is final.” he stalked over to the door, pulling it open and letting it shut behind him without another word.

you couldn’t lie and say you were disappointed. you had hoped that after last night, that you and stephen had finally come to an understanding. but this had just proved that he wasn’t capable of listening. and that he was still hopelessly in love with christine.

“dr. l/n.” a nurse had stopped you as you walked around, moping about stephen kicking you off the surgery. she handed you some papers, “dr. strange has requested you in his office. and he needs to sign these papers for the patient in 203.” she smiled thinly, clearly making you do part of her job.

you shoved the papers back, and stalked off.

you had swiped a salad on your way to his office. you had learned from the first few times that stephen requesting you in his office was like attending a lecture, all about him. and you wouldn’t starve if you were going to be stuck there.

you knocked on the door once before pushing it open. stephen was sitting at his desk, an untouched piece of salmon and greens was in front of him. he didn’t even look up when you walked in.

“what’s up?” you set your salad down, including some of your patient files. you took the chair opposite of his, and cracked open your salad.

“i hate it when you speak like that.” his eyes remained glued to his computer screen.

you looked up, rolling your eyes, “one of the nurses said you requested me? might i inquire why or are we just going to stare at each other and pretend like last night didn’t happen?” you were angry.

he could tell.

your voice shook with a twinge of rage that only he could be the reason behind. it was always the same twinge, it was the same twinge earlier when he had requested christine for the surgery.

his eyes broke away from the screen for the first time since you had walked in. he stared at you, as if trying to calculate this moment in his head. he paused, silence taking the both of you as he stared into your eyes.

“i- i didn’t want to have to do this-“ stephen sighed, “we’re at work. when we’re working, i’m your boss, you are my resident. we can talk about us, later.” he sounded so professional that if you didn’t know him so well, you’d probably throw yourself on the floor and beg for forgiveness.

“just tell me why you picked her over me. that’s all i want to know.” you challenged, your eyes boring into his.

stephen scoffed, “i chose dr. palmer because she is a more experienced surgeon than you. you would just-“

“fuck it up?” you finished his sentence and rolled your eyes, “if you don’t have faith in me than that is a reflection on your abilities as a teacher, as my mentor.”

“no it is not. because if you actually did what you were told, you would be on your way to making an incredible surgeon. but you aren’t. you’d be mediocre at best.” his words cut hard. he hadn’t blinked, and you didn’t dare to look away.

it was weakness to look away. you had to be able to continue to stare him down, if he was going to listen to you.

“i do exactly as i am told. last night was the perfect example of that, wasn’t it, doctor?” you raised your eyebrows and incredibly, stephen broke the eye contact.

“get out.” he returned his gaze to the computer screen and you were taken aback.

“what-“

“i said get out. get your shit, and get the fuck out of my office.” stephen didn’t hesitate to yell at you, which made you want to cringe.

you stood up, sighing as you collected your things, you had almost made it out when you stopped, hand lingering on the doorknob, “this is why christine left you. you’re a fucking asshole, and no one will ever love you.” he had turned, but you had already left before he could yell anymore.

you knew you shouldn’t have slept with your boss. clearly, as you sat at home instead of scrubbing in on a surgery, that it wasn’t working out well.

you had left the hospital after your little outburst with stephen. your pager kept going off, but you had ignored it since they were all from, unsurprisingly, stephen. you tossed and turned in your bed, not having the energy to do anything else.

he had ruined you. he had ruined you from the moment you had entered the program.

but yesterday, he had really ruined you. he ruined whatever perfect balance the two of you had. you knew him, and he knew you, but now you were too involved, too emotionally attached.

you couldn’t even curb your jealously. it wasn’t about your abilities or her abilities, it was the fact that he wanted his ex-girlfriend to scrub in with him, and not you.

stephen stared at the wall. he had been staring at it since you left. assumingely, you had gone home. all of his pages went unanswered, and he knew that he had really, really fucked up.

there was a knock at the door and stephen turned, “come in.” he had hoped it was you, but he never had to welcome you in. you’d always just waltz in, carrying food and random case notes.

“i’ve been looking for your resident all day. i heard she’s the expert on the case?” dr. palmer had graced his office for the first time in a long time. stephen didn’t have the best poker face when it came to surprises, and he couldn’t hide this one.

“uh-“ he laughed slightly, blinking as he focused on her, “yeah she wasn’t feeling well today. she might’ve gone home but the case is at the nurses station.” he didn’t smile, he never did at her anymore.

christine nodded, “hey, stephen.. why did you ask me to scrub in with you? if you already have a perfectly capable resident-“

stephen shook his head, “i- i just wanted you there. i don’t know why- but,” he shrugged, “i cant trust residents, can i?”

christine laughed awkwardly, her attempt at trying to get out of this was already shot to the ground, so she just exited.

you wanted to quit. you had spent all night practicing how you’d do it. you were going to go to his office, set the resignation letter down on his desk and walk out without saying anything.

but you couldn’t even gather the courage to print your letter out. you had left the paper jammed in your printer, half inked, as you left to go to work.

“good morning.” stephen greeted you at the nurses station. it was time for the early mornings rounds. you nodded, but didn’t say anything as you walked off.

stephen chose to ignore the fact that you ignored him, and walked after you, “i am going to need any and all case notes on that patient today.”

you scoffed, “why? you never read any of my notes.” which was true. he always thought your notes were just annoying little scribbles.

“they’re for dr. palmer. she requested that she get any notes relevant to the surgery today.” he responded.

“oh, okay. i’ll drop it off at your office along with all the respect i have for you.” and you turned a corner, leaving him in the dust for rounds.

you were sitting in the cafeteria, head in your hands over your tray of food, you hadn’t even noticed the people gathering around your table.

“dude- long time no see.” you looked up to see one of your old friends that you had met during your internship, thalia. before all of this, before him.

you smiled, a real one in a long time, “we’re residents. we’re lucky if we even have clean underwear.” you joked. she smiled, “i heard you’ve been working closely with dr. strange. how is it? he’s got the hands of a god, you know.”

you blinked, almost happy to be able to get through a conversation that wasn’t plagued by stephen strange.

you blinked, hesitating with your words until it all came spilling out. “we slept together. multiple times.”

thalia’s jaw fell, practically hit the floor as she stared at you in disbelief.

“and we’re fighting right now so i’d really love it if we could just move on-“

“dr. l/n.” you turned at the sound of that voice, abruptly ending your conversation with your friend, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face to see stephen standing in front of you.

he never came to the cafeteria. he was always too good for it, and it was evident that even just his presence was shocking enough. all other conversations seemed to quiet down to complete silence.

“stephen-“

“you’re scrubbing in. dr. palmer has another surgery that will run late so-“

you nodded, “understood.”

your unwillingness to say anything more was evident, and stephen would not open that can of shit right in the middle of the cafeteria for all the underachievers to hear.

he nodded, leaving as quickly as he came.

you stared at his hands moving gracefully in the patient. he was a god, it was clear in his work, that’s why he was the way he was.

“suction.” you immediately brought down the tube in your hands, sucking at whatever he pointed at.

his glove caught on the tube, the air trying to suck up his finger. he pulled back, just as you pulled the tube away.

“oh my go-“ you stared at the tube, and turned back to stephen. he raised his eyebrows just as you dipped your head back to laugh.

stephen looked around at the rest of the staff but didn’t say anything as you finished laughing by yourself.

you let out a sigh, your laugh turned into a quiet chuckle, even as you met his eyes, you still couldn’t stifle it.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized, “that was unprofessional and it won’t happen again.” you blinked, head bowed as you waited.

but stephen didn’t say anything, he looked up to stare at you once before going back to work.

stephen asked you to meet him in his office after the surgery. you had to practically throw yourself up each step to get to his office, exhaustion weighing heavy on your bones.

you didn’t even bother to knock this time, you just pushed the door open and dragged yourself in. stephen was sitting at his desk, but he had the case files in his hands.

he looked up once he saw you, and you took a seat across his desk. “you wanted to see me?”

stephen nodded, throwing down the case files, “this is good stuff.”

you blinked. hardly did stephen ever freely give compliments. you had thought you were the worst resident until he had called you “okay” once during an assistive surgery. another surgeon had said that meant you were good.

clearly stephen knew what you were thinking, and he grimaced, “christine suggested i read them.” you hummed in acknowledgment, “and she also told me to apologize.”

you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

“i am sorry for not calling you, or texting you after..” he mumbled off, “and im sorry for kicking you out of my office, it was rude and i am so-“ he faltered and you sighed, standing up.

he watched as you strode over to his side of the desk, hips swaying in your tight scrub pants. your hand gripped the leather of his desk chair, pulling it back as you positioned yourself on his lap.

stephen watched you carefully, watched as you dragged a finger across his cheek, smiling coyly, “i accept your apology, stephen.” you hummed again, “and i am sorry for what i said.”

stephen held your hips, his large hands tightening around them so you wouldn’t fall. “it’s okay. it’s okay.” he assured you, hands moving to caress your neck, he planted a kiss on your collarbone, just underneath your scrub top.

you shivered at the contact, but you were eager for more. stephen was hardly affectionate, especially at work. it made you wonder how it all even happened in the first place, as he was always so clipped with you.

stephen kissed your neck, sucking hard on the skin that you were sure they’d bruise.

“come away with me.” he whispered, “put on a slutty little dress and come away with me tonight.” he gripped hard on your hips, and you laughed, “what? where?” you were surprised he hadn’t mentioned anything about a trip to you.

“i was nominated for an award in california. the ceremony is tonight and i was hoping that you would accompany me.” he didn’t smile, but there was a hint of one.

“publicly?” you drew your brows together, hand on his shoulder as you looked into his eyes.

“well- people would only assume that we work together. but yes, publicly.” he nodded, and you felt your stomach drop to your ass.

“uh-“ you scoffed, “yeah. sure, i’ll go.” you couldn’t hide your hesitation. the last person that stephen ‘worked’ with was christine, and people would notice.

stephen nodded, “okay. i’ll see you tonight, kid.” his lips brushed past yours as he planted a kiss on your cheek. “tease.” you commented, gripping his shoulder as you hopped off his lap.

“i’m the tease?” he grabbed your wrist and you looked at the tent in his pants. a laugh escaped you, even as you strutted out of his office.

waiting was unbearable. you found yourself glancing over to the clock hoping hours would roll by until it finally did, and you were gathering your things to head home and prepare.

stephen said that he had arranged a private flight to california, and that he and a driver would be at your apartment by 8.

“are you out of here?” thalia, standing at the end of the hallway, broke you out of your thoughts, “i heard you’re going with strange to that ceremony?” you nodded, as you met her at the end, you couldn’t hide your smile.

she nudged you, smiling, “aw im so happy for you. especially after we all thought dr. palmer would go with him.”

your smile fell immediately and you stepped back, “what? why would you think that?”

thalia shrugged, “because he asked her. i heard them in the attendings lounge, when i had gone to find my-“ she continued to ramble on but you had stopped listening. you walked past her and slammed the double doors open. she called your name, but you were already in the wind.

all you could do was practically run out of the hospital, dashing past the front desk and out the doors. you panted, feeling the ache of a sob in your chest. you walked now, breaking down in tears on the way to your car.

how could he have asked her, before he asked you?

you realized you couldn’t go home now. stephen would be there soon to pick you up, to take you to an event that you weren’t supposed to be at.

stephen paced the apartment lobby. your doorman said that he hadn’t seen you since the previous morning. your car hadn’t been parked in its designated spot either, evident of your absence.

“fuck..” stephen muttered, his fingers breezing on the screen as he tried to call you. thing was, you always called him, never the other way around so he couldn’t remember the numbers to even dial.

he scrolled through his call list but it was a sea of unknown numbers, and stephen didn’t remember the last time you called.

stephen walked back up to the doorman, “can i go look in her apartment?” the doorman raised his eyebrows and stephen sighed, “i’m her bo-“ he paused, unsure of what to call himself, he grimaced, “i am her colleague. i just-“

the doorman nodded, there was a look on his face as he looked at stephen up and down, “yeah..i know who you are.” as he spoke stephen realized that it was disdain that this doorman held for him.

but as the doorman let stephen up, he didn’t even care how you talked about him, it was that you talked about him at all.

the apartment was messy. of course it was. you were a fifth year resident who clocked in more hours at the hospital than all the combined time spent at home. but it wasn’t dirty messy, it was a barely moved in, hadn’t had time to unpack messy. the stack of broken down boxes in the corner was evident. he pursed his lips at the sight, but continued in.

your bedroom was close, he could see the edge of a mattress through a cracked door. it was barren, besides the bed and dresser, it was filled with packing peanuts and a box of hospital scrubs. he hummed, stepping out and deciding to check out the next room.

he pushed the door open, revealing a very organized office space. there was a long desk along the wall, a chalk board took up the entirety of another wall, medical scrawl was all over it. pictures of anatomy were hung up, including unknown jars of specimen.

stephen was more than intrigued, he was impressed. the rest of your apartment was messy, barely lived in, but your work was your life, and your office was clear of that.

he trailed towards the desk, a dim light shone from your desktop, and he nudged the computer mouse to turn it on.

dear stephen,

i am writing to formally tender my resignation as a fifth year resident under your tutelage…

there was a mix of worry in his mind that he hadn’t felt in a long time. the rest of the letter was just professional bullshit on your decision to leave him. you weren’t leaving the hospital, you were leaving him.

but he had to get the truth.

it had been hours since the award ceremony. hours since it would’ve started at least, looking at the clock, you knew that it was time to return home.

stephen probably didn’t even make it to your house, since you hadn’t received a single call. the area you had gone to, outside of the city, still got decent cell service, so you knew he didn’t even try.

you no longer felt the rage of being overlooked in your career and in your relationship, all you felt was the regret of believing him. you tightly gripped your steering wheel, and silently drove back home.

stephen waited silently. he had looked through your pantry, trying to find something to snack on until your arrival; he knew he’d be there all night.

but didn’t take anything, deciding that he wasn’t even hungry, just restless and angry, and as soon as he heard keys jingle at the door, he stood up.

“stephen.” you were breathless, your hand was clutching hard on your doorknob as your bag hit the floor. it landed upright, but you pushed it to the side with your foot. stephen didn’t move, watching as you cautiously stepped forward.

“what- what are you doing here?” you swallowed thickly, hands feeling clammy against the rough fabric of your hospital scrubs. you looked at him up and down, eyes lingering on his sharp suit, hands positioned at his side. “i’ve been waiting for you.”

you nodded, “i’m sorry if you missed the award-“ you felt your voice shake, afraid of how this confrontation would proceed. you kept your eyes glued to the floor, afraid to look again into his striking face.

“you think this is about that?” he scoffed incredulously, his eyes narrowing at you. you could just feel the edge in his voice, it was the same edge that had haunted you nearly all of your residency.

he took your silence for shame, and continued, “i found your letter. when were you planning to hand it in? hmm? after you assisted on a major surgery or after i was presented with an award with you by my side-“ it was your turn to scoff. you looked up, walking towards him at a speed that had you now nose to nose.

“you think that i’m proud of being second choice?” your voice broke, and you sighed, knowing just exactly how this would end. stephen’s face fell, and he looked speechless at your emotion.

you inhaled a breath, trying to calm yourself down as you fought to say your piece. “i- i had to hear from thalia, of all people, that you had originally asked christine to be your date tonight.” you felt a tear fall down your cheek, “you come in here, into my apartment, look through my things and accuse me of what? riding your success?” you spat, your voice still wavered, but you carried on, “i’ve had to be second to the greatest love of your life. and i will not continue to be.” you sniffled, looking at stephen right in the eye, “i quit. i don’t ever want to see you or that fucking hospital again.”

stephen was absolutely wordless. he didn’t even know what to do with it, and as he watched you strut down the hallway to your bedroom, he found himself following you.

you sniffled, and noticed he was right on your trail, “get out, stephen. get-“

he stayed firmly planted, and instead raised his eyebrows, “christine is not the greatest love of my life- i thought she was.” you rolled your eyes, not wanting to hear his speech, “until i met you. and i’ve been selfish. i’ve been keeping you from your potential. so you should quit, be a better surgeon under someone who-“ he faltered, and his features softened, “who doesn’t love you.”

you felt your face get hot as you tried to speak. stephen strange just told you he loved you…

“it’s okay.” he stepped forward and you found yourself stepping into his embrace. he kissed your forehead, “it’s okay.” he repeated, assuring that it in fact, was okay.

as bittersweet the moment was, you had to release all of the truth, even if you knew it would only hurt him more.

“i love you, too.” you whispered, hands gathering up his suit fabric, gripping it tightly you didn’t want to let go. but he didn’t say anything, the two of you continued to hug until you practically fell asleep in his arms.

[iwaoiness]

Of course, Oikawa doesn't know how to sit still, not even on the motorbike. And the problem isn't the weight of his torso pressed against Iwaizumi’s back, nor how perfectly Iwaizumi's hips fit like puzzle pieces between Oikawa's legs. No. It’s his fucking arms and hands, with those damn long, bony fingers. Iwaizumi can't stop feeling them all over his body every time he rides his Suzuki down the roads of Irvine with Tooru behind him.

Sometimes, one of Oikawa’s arms drapes over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, with his hand resting on his chest, right over his heart. It stays there, quiet and gentle, until—of course—Oikawa gets bored and starts stroking him, up and down, side to side, even giving him light taps. And when the tapping starts, suddenly Hajime gives zero fucks about the traffic rules and tries to stop him by letting go of one of the handlebars to pinch Oikawa's thigh.

Other times, however, Oikawa is more calmer and more sweeter. He’s content to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, leaning a little more against his back, before he starts humming one of his favorite pop songs. Even though they’re both wearing helmets and the wind roars around them, Iwaizumi recognizes every song, feeling them resonate through his back, where Oikawa’s chest is pressed against him. And when that happens, Hajime once again gives zero fucks about traffic rules, letting go of one of the handlebars to gently wrap his hand around one of Tooru’s, caressing it with tender care.

At every red light, Oikawa’s hands usually slide down, his fingers deliberately brushing the exposed skin of Iwaizumi’s strong arms before anchoring themselves at his waist. He rests his helmeted head on Hajime’s shoulder, visor lifted to reveal his warm eyes and wide smile, and starts talking about whatever crosses his mind. Iwaizumi raises his visor too, just to look at him, listening intently and teasing him at every chance, his fingers playfully entwined with Oikawa’s until the light turns green.

And when they’re trapped in the fucking traffic, Tooru finds amusement in Hajime’s broad back, tracing random shapes with his finger for Iwaizumi to guess. A flower, a star, a triangle, a big heart, a crescent moon, an arrow. And when Iwaizumi teases him for being too easy, Oikawa starts with kanji. He writes the kanji for love, life, home, eternity, happiness. Iwaizumi guesses them all, and then it’s his turn. He draws random shapes on the back of Tooru’s hand, which is anchored at his waist. A crown, another heart, a four-leaf clover, a sun, a raindrop, an X. And when Oikawa teases him back for being easy, he starts with words. He writes slowly, letter by letter: pretty, partner, lindo, king, te amo.

Riding the motorcycle with Oikawa sitting behind is a torment because he just can’t stay still, constantly touching and touching and touching, but Iwaizumi wouldn’t trade it for anything.

...

THIS IS SO SO SO SO SO IWAOI CODED IM SCREAMING

u can find me and (probably) this on my ao3 🍉

[sofia-not-sophie]

In honor of Jason's death day I am posting a bit of a wip that will eventually turn into a Red Hood Bruce AU. (Yes there is only half an hour left today shhhh). Let me know if anyone would be interested in reading more of this kind of thing!! (Character Death tw for the whole of the text coming up, also minor panic attack of a non pov character)

Presenting:

Crossing That Line

Dick frantically punched his security code and the code for the watchtower into the zeta. Batman had sent multiple distress signals using his justice league and batcave beacon in the last ten seconds. Then all of his biometrics trackers went offline and new distress beacons stopped coming in. Bruce had been dealing with a justice league level threat for the past few days, so Dick had been taking the opportunity of a Bruce-less manor to spend time with Jason. He wasn’t looking forward to staying to babysit an injured Bruce, but at the same time Bruce was his sort of not really dad, right?

Dick wasn’t sure how long he had frozen once he saw the biometrics readings stop, but his training kicked in eventually and he was now on his way to see what he could do to help. Even if that was just standing by while someone else handled Bruce’s injuries.

He reached the watchtower and ran to the medical wing. The Justice League were all inside. Superman was sitting in a chair with yellow sunlamps trained on him, a bloody set of tears marring his suit, clearly his own blood, as Dick could see the injuries on his skin slowly healing themselves under the sunlight. He looked quite literally green around the gills, kryptonite then.

The others were around in various states of injured, but none of them were as severe as Superman’s injuries. Flash was helping Green lantern wrap a wound that probably had already been stitched up, but everyone else looked fine.

Then Dick noticed that Diana was standing at the end of a bed that had a sheet over it. There was clearly a body underneath. And Batman was the only person unaccounted for.

“Dick.” Clark said, his voice breaking.

Dick couldn’t say anything, he wordlessly moved over to the bed and pulled back the sheet. The cowl was still over Bruce’s face but it was severely damaged. Burns and scrapes and soot covered what parts of his face were visible. Dick put his ear by where Bruce’s heart should be and listened for a heartbeat.

Nothing.

Dick checked Bruce’s pulse.

Nothing.

“What happened?” Dick asked, becasue if he didn’t he might just get lost in his own thoughts and memories.

“Lex and the Joker.” Clark said, “They were making some sort of space laser together. I’m not sure to what end. I went to confront them while the others handled the guards. B, he went to dismantle the weapon. But there was a failsafe bomb. We couldn’t— We weren’t able to get to him. Not until after.”

A beep sounded someone arriving at the zeta station. A few seconds later Jason burst in in his full Robin outfit. Wait, Dick was still in his sweatpants. Not even a mask. What would Bruce say?

Dick wished he could hear Bruce tell him off for being in civilian clothes in the watchtower.

“I saw the distress record and your zeta logs.” Jason said, “What happened?”

“Jason.” Dick started and stopped, trying to put himself in between Bruce’s body and Jason.

“Can I at least see B? He’s my dad too you know.”

“Jason something really bad happened.” Dick felt the words spill out.

“What’s wrong? Where’s B?”

“He’s gone, Little Wing.” Dick bent down slightly to meet Jason’s eyes, or rather the white lenses of his mask, at level.

“No! He can’t be. He’s Batman.” Jason then seemed to notice Bruce’s still uncovered face on the bed. Jason ran the same tests that Dick had, adding in checking for breath fog on the edge of a batarang for good measure.

Jason finally pulled the sheet back over Bruce’s head and turned from the bed, he looked about three shades paler than normal. His breathing was racing and Dick noticed Clark looking at Jason with concern.

Shit. What did Bruce normally do to help with the panic attacks?

Dick silently tugged Jason to sit on the floor with his back against a wall. “Breathe, Jay. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Where am I going to go?” Jason whispered, still in a panic. It seemed to be more to himself than to Dick but Dick answered anyway.

“Breathe. You’re not going anywhere. You stay at the manor, I’ll move back in. You’re not going to get kicked out. Can you take a deep breath with me?”

Dick guided Jason’s hand to the front seam of the Robin costume so he could feel his own diaphragm move. Dick counted as he breathed in and out and slowly Jason’s breaths started to match his own.

“He’s gone.” Jason whispered.

Dick didn’t know what to say.

“How do we tell Alfred?”

Dick hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I can tell him.” Clark said, “You kids shouldn’t have to worry about that.”

Dick nodded. Where was his voice? Part of him wanted to say that he should deliver it, he’s family, or maybe that he wasn’t a kid anymore.

“What do we do then?” Jason asked.

“Let’s go home and get you into some pajamas.” Clark said.

“I don’t want to leave him.” Dick said, looking at the sheet covering Bruce. “Alfred should have codes for the zeta to use in case of this specific issue. Have him bring the contingency files for a code dark night.”

Clark nodded and stood up. He still looked uneasy on his feet, but he got Jason to the zeta point. The rest of the League took the hint and made themselves scarce, leaving Dick alone with Bruce.

The sense of deja vu was sickening. It brought him back to the first minutes after his parents’ fall. Dick was the first one to get to them and for what felt like hours it was just him and his parents’ bodies in the middle of the ring. It hadn’t actually been that long until there were police and someone else in the circus, Dick couldn’t even remember who, was pulling him away and trying to comfort him. And then there was Bruce. Who Dick had talked to briefly that day, back then he had just been a random stranger offering condolences. Now…

Dick looked back at the sheet.

Bruce was dead.

What the hell was Dick supposed to do now?

[redswaberkez]

You said you could write a whole essay on the design choses of P1 and P2, could I see that? 👀

time has come and so have i 😈 (and english isnt englishing gonna use translator ahaha sry)

First, i wanted to express their difference between one of them is alive, which is p1, while the other is already dead man walking (p2) For i used p2 - cold tones, like a corpse , for p1 - warmer colour palette

and also them being blue coded bitch and red coded bitch. y'know)

speaking of p2. I like to portray him more dead than alive as i said before. he is pale cadaverous in colour with spreading acrocyanosis (blue fingers, nose and ears). because of this, his hands, his skin, his entire being are cold. don't even try to warm him up. it's useless. he shot himself and the gaping hole in his skull wont stop bleeding, and all his body functions have slowed down significantly. that's why the wound doesn't heal.

the racoon eyes symptom (reaaally dark circles under the eyes) and intraocular hemorrhage (which isn't there, just slightly red eyes instead) are appears in patients with skull fractures and i think gunshot wound also matches the description. also empty lifeless look in faded-green eyes.

p2's nose and goatee are more spikey and straight bc i feel him more sharp-shaped than p1. p2 is like an explosion havoc and spikes 💥💥💥 he WILL show with all his appearance that he is a thorn and dont touch him ot you are dead, BUT he isnt shy, or meek, or sissy and etc. it's hard NOT TO notice him. yes he IS dry, but he likes to annoy people by his existence and the bullet damaged his brains so this also will act up sometimes. Thats why his pose with gun is open with a maniacal smirk. He will shoot u for fun lmao. I gave him earrings and grown hair just bc i wanted to. no hidden meanings in there And honorable mention. his pin is dead too

P1 NOW

his palette is warmer because he is alive. fiery red hair gives an even more dangerous look (like a fly agaric). disterssed black nail polish bc he is the one who is listening to alt nu metal music. imo he would paint his nails. his eyes sparkle with hatred and madness if u look REAALY CLOOSE ((and same is on my the fiiirst art of him))

okay, we zoomed too close. Now you can see his asymmetrical glasses, they give him an even more absurd and virulent look. Something that acts on our subcortex of consciousness and tells us that something is wrong. (aaand i forgor abt p2's sunglasses ooop💀)

p1 appearance isnt too sharp-shaped bc for me. for me. his isnt an explosion like p2. p1 is a predator that will wait for you for HOURS. no sudden movements, everything is precisely calculated. His world is a havoc, but he is the one who will solve this problem. He wont spoil anything in seconds. thats why his posture is closed and strict as opposed to p2. u seee.. they are the opposites.... oooo

his gaze is heavy, he looks at everyone with disgust and distrust. medium-thick eyebrows only add heaviness, unlike p2, his eyebrows are thiiin. p1 is SICK of everyone's bullshit to be honest.

Turtleneck turtleneck... I just like turtlenecks and also character must have a wardrobe with different clothes in it, right? oh and ofc. their crosses. i explained it here

and for the ending AS I MENTIONED BEFOOOORE i gave p1 klayton's (the one w red mohawk) facial traits ON PURPOSE. but for p2... for him i unconsciously gave blue stahli's facial traits (pink one) and when i relized it it was kindaaa eye-opening SJDHFSKJD. circle is closed now. also check out their music its sooo sick i cant

[feeshies]

Okay since I did pretty well during my first year, I feel like I can share my law school Study Hacks

(May also be applicable to non-law school studying)

Disclaimer: these are tips from someone who is okay with being average-to-decent in law school. The jobs I want aren't the ones where you have to get straight A's your first year. If you're looking to get into BigLaw, I can't help you. Also I didn't really study in undergrad (I only enrolled in classes where I could write a final paper instead of taking an exam), so a lot of these tips I had to learn on the fly. If you have a technique, stick with that. Also (x2) I have ADHD, so I had to come up with a technique which worked with that.

I'm mostly making this post because before law school, I fell down a lot of study-influencer rabbit holes, and I found myself feeling self-conscious that I couldn't get my study habits to look that neat and "aesthetic."

Part 1: Setup

Step 0: Get a big whiteboard.

This is the first thing I bought when I moved into my apartment and it's my favorite possession. Listen, planners are nice. I used planners all throughout undergrad. But that's just because I didn't have the space for a big whiteboard. The big whiteboard is not just where I put my assignments, but it's also where I plan out my week (we'll get to that)

Step 0.2: Get a smaller calendar whiteboard.

I have a smaller whiteboard that functions as a calendar. I don't put due dates on this (unless it's a major due date or some kind of school event). Not really relevant to studying, only to show that I separate big due dates from my everyday study tracking. Trying to cram everything into a normal calendar can make it easy to overlook important stuff.

Step 1: Before the semester starts, color code all of your classes.

The colors can be completely arbitrary (I just used the colors that came up on OneNote).

For my first semester, it was:

Contracts: Blue

Torts: Orange

Civil Procedure: Black or White

Legal Writing I: Green

After the first semester was established, I was able to use this color association for similar classes during the second semester:

Property: Blue

Criminal Law: Orange

Legislation: Black or White

Legal Writing II: Green

These are the colors I would always associate with these classes. On my giant whiteboard, I would use different colored markers to indicate which class I was writing about (versus having to go "contracts: pages 12-50" or whatever. I could just write "12-50" with blue marker)

I already erased my whiteboard for the semester (another reason to do this: it's incredibly satisfying), but here's a recreation:

I have my reading assignments for each week organized by class (+ the due dates.) Then in red, I write down the number of pages I'll have to read in each segment. Whenever something's done, cross it off.

This is my weekly calendar where I divide up when I'll be reading and how much (plus other stuff I have going on that week). I also divide the reading evenly. If I have two days to read 28 pages, I'm doing 14 pages one day, and the other 14 the other.

This is because 1. If the assigned reading has a natural shorter and longer part, I'm going to do the shorter one first and put off the longer one because I am lazy and I don't care about sabotaging future me. If it's even, I can hold myself accountable. And 2. stopping abruptly can make it easier for you to get back in that same headspace when you continue reading. It's the same mentality behind that writing tip that stopping mid-sentence can help prevent writer's block, because your brain is good at filling in gaps. It's much less daunting than starting at a fresh topic.

Other things of note:

I transcribe the notes I take in class when I get home. I try to do this as soon as possible so I don't forget anything (jotting down specific examples or anecdotes raised by your professor can help you memorize the material more). I take my notes by hand (in a notebook color-coordinated with the class), and then I use OneNote so they're in a more legible place.

I also try to update my outlines every week. This was something I didn't learn until late first semester but I wish I knew earlier. You don't want to be scrambling to make your outlines the week before exams. I'll go more into outlining later.

I also don't do anything school-related on Sundays. Mainly because that's my cleaning day, but I also need a break. Try to set a hard boundary with yourself.

I'll go into more detail about my exact studying and outlining strategies in another post (plus exam stuff), but this was just about the setup and it's already too long.

TL;DR: color-coordinate your classes, get a big whiteboard, studying doesn't have to be pretty if it works

[xoxosimp]

pleasure doing business

Inspired by @hideandgopeep and a clip of Nurse Jackie I found on tik tok

Warning: there’s an asshole, mob au coded ( i can't help myself) 

If there was one thing about Miche, he was always trying to get out of work. Erwin and Miche needed to discuss some contract executions and instead of meeting in an office, or literally anywhere else, Miche insisted they meet at a country club. For no other reason than it was a beautiful day.

“I knew you’d pull some shit like this?”, Erwin grumbled as he sipped his whiskey.

“ Whatever do you mean?” Miche feigned innocence. 

“ We were supposed to talk about our contract for tonight.”

“ And we will. Can’t we stop and enjoy the sunshine?”

Erwin rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics. “ I mean look around: beautiful sun, beautiful grass, beautiful people, what’s not to like?” He watched Miche eye one of the bev cart girls serving customers a few feet away. There it is comical how fast Miche got distracted. But he made no argument ; Miche always managed to get the job done. 

Miche let his nosiness get the best of him. The bev cart girl kept her eyes down as she murmured something to her customers. She clutched the ends of her tennis skirt and watched her take the ever so tiniest step back, as if she kept on being lured into the conversation she no longer wanted to be a part of. 

“ Are you that stupid, sweetie? This is a Bud Light, not an El Presidente.” 

Now that made his ears perk up. The older fellow’s condescending tone was hard to miss.

“ You’re lucky you’re pretty since you can't seem to do anything else.”

Miche set his beer and stood up. Erwin sighed as Miche walked over to the other table. The waitress and the two customers immediately looked up at him.

“What do you want?”, the elderly gentlemen sneered.

“I’m the manager. What’s the issue?” Miche asked.

The younger one of the two customers stayed quiet as the other scoffed. “ You were just sitting over there,” he stated matter of factly, pointing to where Erwin sat. 

“ Am I not allowed to enjoy my own country club?” he rebutted. “ What’s the issue?”

“ She got me the wrong drink.”

“And?”  Miche responded with a mocking tone, as if it was a bother to ask.

“ And she-”

“ What I saw was this lovely angel,” he said gesturing to her, “ giving you the wrong drink and instead of correcting her politely like a normal person, you’re being an asshole. And I have a problem with that.” 

Miche could have smacked him in the face and he still wouldn't look as shocked.“You can't talk to me like that,” he defended himself. 

Miche turned to the other customer, “This is your friend?”

He shook his head no. “ N-No, he’s a business client.”

“ And you’re okay doing business with someone who thinks it’s okay to demean a waitress? You do business like that?”

“No actually, my-my daughter is a college student and she waitresses on the weekends.”

Miche chucked humorlessly, “ You might want to apologize.” 

The older gentleman shifted in his seat, looking at his friend. “ I-”

“ Not to him,” Miche cut him off firmly. “ To this angel right here.”

Miche crossed his arms and glared at the older gentleman, his green eyes narrowing with a fierce intensity. His ice cold gaze carried a promise: anything less of an apology would not be taken lightly. 

“ I’m sorry-” he choked out. “ It won’t happen again,” he said quickly.

Miche picked up his drink and handed it to her. “ Now, angel, why don’t you get him a new drink?” he commanded softly.The complete shift in his voice shocked her. All she could do was blink in amazement at her stranger in shining armor. Miche gave her a subtle wink, so she took the drink from his hands. 

Miche took his seat once again as the lovely angel walked up and crouched next to Erwin.“ Your drinks are on me. Your boyfriend is awesome.” She smiled at Miche and walked over to her cart with some pep to her step. 

“ You really should listen to your boyfriend more often, “ Miche teased. 

Erwin pondered. “Well office hours are best without the office,” he agreed with defeat

Miche raised his drink in the air, “ I’ll drink to that.”

As much as Miche tried to get out of work, Erwin was glad to do business with Miche. 

[master-john-uk]

I was a member of The Tufty Club.

This was how children of my generation learnt how to cross the road safely. The simple road crossing instruction was: Look Right, look left and look right again. If the road is clear, march straight across.

Tufty was superseded by The Green Cross Code in 1970... who's road crossing advice was summarised by: STOP, LOOK and LISTEN.

These days it seems to me that nobody cares to take responsibility for their own safety when crossing the road... or the safety of their children!

Just a couple of weeks ago I witnessed a mother literally drag her two young daughters across a road in front of approaching cars. The mother was "safely" holding the hands of her children when she decided to run across the road. The youngest child (I would guess 5 years old) fell over. If the road had been slippery, or the driver had not been alert... the kids and their mum would probably have all ended up in hospital, or the cemetery!

[hoodiegirl1620]

New Lorefi dropped let’s get into the notes. This time I’ve taken screenshots so those who are good with codes can take a look and see if there is anything we could use in the screenshots! (I’m very bad at codes but good with notes!)

Infected Video:

- Description Binary code. Comments say it says “The Journey Starts on the Streets of Chill”

-To Do List (now it’s easier to read): Get New Tracks, Draw New Art, Bottom crosses out (Most likely “Call Dad”)

Another commenter states that it is a song on the Spotify playlist (read below for more detail of what they said about the song)

- Taylor entered into an art contest with DrakenBorn87 getting 1st and the runner ups being AlexaPerplexa, xXxdaybreakerxXx, and N1GHTM4N88

We later find that Taylor is “AlexaPerplexa” and won 2nd place on the contest (read SephyLuv4Eva convo)

- Email from Dad (as shown below)

Taylor’s email is “summertay89@mymail.com” Summary: Dad knows Tay and her mom are mad but thinks Tay doesn’t know the full story and would like to talk to Tay face to face and not through emails

The following is the summary of Messenger conversations:

-ARVULPIX: Wing’s newest track dropped (Another artist Taylor listens to?)

-CoolDad1962: Asking if Taylor has read his email

-KaTeBaBie: Busy due to cheerleading and asking Taylor if she could do his part in the group project

KaTeBaBie Bio: Male, “WE GOING TO STATE! LET’S GO W. DIXON!…” “I’m a survivor, I’m not gon give up, I’m not gon stop, I’m gon work harder”

-SephyLuv4Eva: Was grounded and gave Taylor feedback on her art. Feedback being that she needed to work on her eyes. Taylor told them that she got 2nd place in the contest and needed to practice her art more. Sephy thinks that Taylor is being too hard on herself

-SSJKev93: Asking Taylor to comment on last his canvas

-timmynator: Askingn Taylor if she is sure she wants to do the next panel. Taylor doesn’t think she’s good enough to do it

Quick note. I haven’t looked into it much myself yet but I feel like the caps in the usernames might spell something out or a jumbled word (or I’m looking too into detail).

Also another assumption I’ve made is that the numbers at the end of emails and usernames most likely is the year that person was born. So Taylor was probably born in 1989.

- A paper about the Butterfly Effect (Could possibly be the group project? Or it could be the US Gov Final Project)

-The Logins

One thing I will point out is that here in Taylor’s email the numbers are missing

-Hacker makes zip files of the documents and backs up the browser history

-While Duck Hacker is on the computer the webcam at the top is glowing green

One last is I found this comment. I’m not sure if it means anything but it sounds important and I’m sure someone out there knows what this commenter is talking about and if it’s important to the lore

[nightly-ruse]

Overly Complicated Ashstar AU: Part 2

(Very long post go read part 1 before starting here. Part 1. Spans TNP, PO3, and TBC)

Hollyleaf is shocked and looks down at him. Clearly her plans to murder him stopped, curiosity too big to just let him die with it. Ashfur has to think quick. If he doesn’t give her an answer she’ll just finish the job and if he lies and she figures it out then he’s screwed. Thoughts racing it hits him.

“Who are my parents! Spit it out before I claw your throat out!” She hisses back though her anger is mixed with anxiety as she waits for his words.

“Leafpool. Your mother is Leafpool. Her and Squirrelflight left to go and have you three in secret and Squirrel took them since Leaf couldn’t.” He let out with a small smile as it clicked into place. He watched the anger spread across her face but not to him, to her mom. Her real one and fake one.

Hollyleaf looks at her and her siblings names, while Lion was named after the fire and saving Squirrel she was named after her mom. Her healer mom who was never supposed to have her or her siblings. Ash recognizes the look in her green eyes, rage and loss from her life being changed. In the moment he can’t help but connect with the cat who was just about to kill him. He offers her a chance, he becomes leader and she becomes his deputy, together they enact revenge on the cats who ruined their lives. She agrees.

They make a plan. The next gathering she reveals the truth about her mom, and gets her to admit who her father is in front of everyone.

Gathering scene happens as in canon but she only announces Leafpool who is immediately attacked by yowls of betrayal and anger. While her fellow healers keep cats back she reveals from the pressure that their father is Crowfeather. Outrage and anger, Leaf is forced to back down as a healer by the other clans and Crow has to step down as deputy. When they get back both Holly and Jay ask to have their suffixes changed, their now Hollyflame and Jaystorm instead. Lionblaze is shook but knows his moms were trying ti hurt them, he knows how it feels to have everyone against him and he knows the code isn’t perfect. As his siblings get their names changed he has his changed to Lionflight after his mom who always cared for him.

(Holly has hers changed to flame for the fire that revealed the truth while Jay has his changed to storm bc that’s how he feels)

Now Ashfur’s part of the plan is to be done. He gets Firestar down to the lake just where Hawk was killed and he was die so many moons ago. As Fire goes to look at a odd scent Ash had lured him ti see he’s ambushed and killed. He makes it look like a enemy clan did it by covering his fiery pelt in other clan scent from the border. When the body is discovered everyone is horrified, many calling to him to attack back and find who killed their beloved leader. But a few, Leafpool and Brambleclaw, have a suspicion it wasn’t just some attack. But both are out of the clans favor so no one listens. He makes Hollyflame his deputy and the day after goes to the moonpool to become Ashstar.

As he sleeps into the beyond instead of going to the light where Starclan would be he whips around and races to the darkness. The cold shadows enveloping him as he forces through built the mist clears to the dark forest. Only one cat in his mind to see. Hawkfrost

Being a living cat he has more power and ends up making his path cross to his mate through will alone. They meet once again, it’s been so long. Hawk stares at him with glossy icy blue eyes. “Are you dead?” He breathes out in a mix of ache and worry, each word a chill down his spine. “No. I finished what we started. I killed Firestar and was to become Ashstar but I couldn’t go see them. I had to see you.”. As Ash stared at him he feels what he felt before the stake was drove through his chest at the lake. Where it would’ve been was a hole, open and dark like shadows filled it up. “I’ll bring you back. We’ll rule together. I don’t care what it takes. I’m not leaving you here.”

Ash has the spirit of his mate tied to his own, where nine lives would be two stay. Intertwined till he can find a way to have him in another body. When Ash breaks Hawk out it damages the walls of the dark forest, where it was strong and keeping the damned spirits in it now was cracked. Spilling its dark mind bending mist outside its plane. But when he comes back no spirit is tied to his side.

It’s the half moon with the light sparkling over the lake. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he couldn’t take Hawk into the living world. A figure catches his eye, a large cat with a spiky mane stumbling across the lake shore. Heart beating he races down to come face to face with them. It was Hawkfrost. Fully in form, his scar letting out a mist. And yet when he tried to touch his face his paw went right through him. He was a ghost. But he was there atleast.

Knowing she’s still ready to act he tells Holly something about Leafpool. This angers her and she goes and confronts her, we get the death berry encounter and Holly runs away when Jay and Squirrel walk into the den before she can kill Leaf. She runs in fear the others will hurt her and hides in the tunnel, only for the entrance to collapse leaving her trapped. Jay and Lion were behind her and tried to dig through the ground but couldn’t find her. She was gone.

Without his deputy he had to choose someone else and decided he wanted Squirrelflight back. She is made deputy again and as in canon is really good at it. Just like her father. But the cats against him won’t stay quiet much longer. He needs to act faster and with Squirrel running the clan so well he has time to try things out. Eventually he finds out about the new Shadowclan cat who came from some other group of cats. He looks at the little Tom with curiosity and even more when he sees that the cat is focusing just behind him, where he knows Hawk’s ghost is sitting as always. The cat can see ghosts.

This is as far as I’ve gotten! I think maybe Ash could, like in canon, use Hawk to manipulate poor Shadowsight. This would mix the OOTS with TBC in that since the walls of the DF are breaking down the cats are coming into the living world. The three would use their power to mend the afterlife. And ofc since Shadow is already in this he wouldn’t be a Dove kit, he’s instead a kit of the sisters taken in by Shadowclan. I might change this though and distance this out more more, since I do enjoy Dovewing and Bristlefrost so I’ll shift things once I get feedback!

[avaruussade]

a lil snippet of something I've been working on 😈 supernatural au

***

Viktor takes them to a neighborhood that in the gloomy, rainy weather looks rather unwelcoming. He whistles as he walks toward a tall building with chipped outer walls and dark, square windows, and Otabek thinks the fog around them only gets thicker as they cross a parking lot with only a few cars on it. Viktor has started humming a song Otabek distantly recognizes but can’t quite name, and he keeps on singing when he punches in a code on a digital lock at the building’s front door and walks in as if he lived there.

The corridor is cold, and their steps echo between the walls. The apartment doors don’t have names on them, only numbers, and when they reach the fourth floor the buzzing of the sickly yellow halogen lights gets louder.

“Viktor, what-”, JJ starts, but he’s interrupted by Viktor stopping in front of a door and knocking on it. The number - 130 - on the door has faded slightly, and there’s a small post-it note over the mail slot (a pink one, Otabek notices), saying no ads, thank you.

A few long seconds pass before the door opens. A young man with blond hair framing a pair of strikingly green eyes takes a long look at Viktor, who flashes his trademark smile.

“Hello, Y-”

“No,” the man says and closes the door.

Viktor’s smile doesn’t falter as he gives a reassuring look to Otabek and JJ over his shoulder and knocks again. The door swings open, more widely this time.

“What part of a ‘no’ you don’t understand?”

“Listen, Yuri-”

“The last time I listened to you I spent the night in jail because someone who was in charge of looking out for my ass didn’t do their job. So whatever you’re about to say, my answer is no.”

“For my defence, I was doing that job with Yuuri, and you know how putting us two together isn’t a very bright idea.”

The blond gives a long, borderline angry look at Viktor, who amazingly keeps on smiling. Otabek knows it doesn’t show on his face, but inside he is terrified - for himself or for Viktor, he’s not sure yet.

“Look, Yuri,” Viktor starts, a soft apology in his voice. “I’m sorry about that last time. No one got hurt in the end though, right?”

The boy - Yuri, Otabek assumes - reaches for the handle and pulls it, but Viktor manages to get a foot between the door. Yuri looks surprisingly calm, but he’s biting the inside of his cheek and there’s a fire behind his eyes.

“Okay, yes, you’re right, I screwed up and I apologize. I completely understand if you don’t want to work another job for or with me-”

“That’s an understatement.”

“But I’m here only because these two gentlemen came to me for help.”

It’s the first time Yuri’s eyes scan Otabek and JJ standing behind Viktor’s back, as if he had just realized they were even there. The small pause gives Otabek time to take a look at Yuri, too - he’s around the same height as Viktor, and has his hair on a messy ponytail. The shirt he’s wearing is way too big for him, and underneath his brightly colored eyes are quite dark circles that look more like bruises in the sickly lighting.

Yuri leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. “You have 30 seconds.”

“There are demons in here. In the city,” JJ says before Viktor gets his mouth open, probably afraid Viktor would only anger the mysterious blond ever more.

“I know about the old lady in Black Hill,” Yuri says, and JJ and Otabek exchange a quick look. “She’s been possessed for some time now, but exorcism would kill her. I visit weekly and so far it’s been quiet.”

“Not anymore,” JJ says, and Yuri raises his eyebrows in question. “We’re pretty sure the entire neighborhood is possessed.”

“Weird electricity problems, gardens full of dead plants - hell, even the grass outside is fried,” Otabek lists. “And it’s… it’s quiet there. Too quiet.”

Yuri looks at them for a few seconds, brows in a pensive frown, before he lets out a long sigh and holds the door open. “Come in.”

The apartment is bigger than it seemed from the outside. The living room has a couch that looks older than any of them are, fitted between an overflowing bookcase and a round coffee table covered in handwritten notes and old books barely held together by their peeling binding. Instead of a TV there are maps, drawings and pages from different books hung on the wall, and the plush armchair tucked in the corner is taken by a brown, fluffy cat. Endless stacks of books create pathways to the kitchen and what Otabek assumes is a bedroom, and despite the awful weather outside, it’s pleasantly warm inside the apartment.

“It’s a bit messy, I just came home,” Yuri explains as he picks up an open black backpack from the floor and tosses it towards a room Otabek assumes is the bedroom.

“Where were you?” Viktor asks. He’s crouched down by the armchair, cooing at the cat who’s now loudly purring.

“Mila needed help with some vampires.”

“Vampires? So far up north?”

Yuri shrugs. “An entire family. Either it’s global warming or hunters around here are forcing them to relocate.”

“I see,” Viktor says, eyebrows in a subtle frown. “Everything went alright?”

“We left in one piece, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Viktor looks at Yuri over his shoulder, still petting the purring cat, and flashes him a wide smile. “Well done.”

Yuri rolls his eyes and turns around, heading to the small kitchen located right next to the living room: it’s so tiny and dark Otabek didn’t even notice it first. Yuri clicks on a switch on the wall and multiple strings of tiny lights turn on, filling the kitchen in a warm glow and revealing a stove with two burners. The stovetop has more wonky piles of books on it, so Otabek assumes Yuri isn’t a big fan of cooking. Next to the sink on the counter sits an iron samovar, surrounded by a mismatch selection of teacups: tall and small, from painted porcelain to plain black and faded cartoon characters, almost hiding the electrical kettle behind them like it was a shameful abomination.

Something within Otabek relaxes at the sight; welcomes the familiarity without him really noticing.

“Tea?” Yuri asks while rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, pulling out three cardboard boxes with differently flavored tea. Otabek and JJ exchange another quick look, but Viktor beats them both.

“We’d love to.”

*

The living room couch is soft, and the warm cup of tea between Otabek’s hands is surprisingly comforting. He watches through the steam of his tea how Yuri picks up the fluffy cat before sitting down on the armchair, the cat curling up on his lap and letting out a content sigh. A small, barely-there smile visits Yuri’s face, and it’s the first time Otabek has seen him show some other emotion than exhaustion or annoyance.

“So,” JJ starts, placing his untouched cup on the table. “Demons. Apparently.”

“Have you guys ever dealt with a demon?”

“No,” Otabek says quickly before JJ’s need to look grand in strangers eyes takes over. “We deal with ghosts, angry spirits sometimes. We were only in the neighborhood because it seemed like a spirit case at first. We don’t do demons.”

Yuri hums. “Well, you’ll be doing now. You find it, you deal with it.”

“Didn’t you say you’ve known for a longer time there’s a demon in there? And you did nothing,” JJ reminds, a sharp edge in his tone. It hurts Otabek’s ears, but he stays quiet.

“I didn’t think there’d be more,” Yuri states and calmly takes a sip of tea before placing his cup on a corner of the table that’s not overflowing with what looks like diary entries on post-it notes. He carefully places the cat on his lap on the floor before standing up and heading towards the massive bookcase. “She’s done nothing in months. My mistake.”

“She’s gathering knowledge, maybe? Or keeping an eye on something,” Viktor ponders.

“Probably. As I said, I’ve visited her weekly. The demon inside her knows I’m a hunter, either recognizes me or feels all the anti-possession stuff on me, yet it’s been normal out there. So my question is, why now?”

Yuri is pulling out books and stacking them on top of each other, and Otabek wonders how he has the strength to carry them all. He drops one stack on the table on top of another stack and heads towards another corner of the living room, looking through the piles placed underneath a window.

“Maybe it just got bored?” Viktor suggests, and Yuri shrugs. He comes back to them with another tall stack of books in his arms and puts them next to the other books on the table.

“What are these?” JJ asks, picking up one of the books.

“Everything I could quickly find about demons, possessions and exorcism,” Yuri replies before sitting back down on the armchair and reaching for his teacup. “I can help you with the demons but we’re not going there unprepared.”

JJ lets out a dry laugh that sounds amused, but Otabek knows what it means: JJ is getting annoyed at Yuri, probably because he’s not recognizing JJ’s efforts. Instead of saying anything Otabek picks up a book.

It’s surprisingly heavy, the corners of the covers torn. The pages are thick, not made out of regular paper, and as he leafs through it he notices there are notes written on the pages with a pencil. It takes a moment for Otabek to realize the writing seems a bit strange, yet he can understand parts of it: it’s been a long time since he last read anything in cyrillic, and the writer didn’t have the neatest handwriting. The book itself is in English, and Otabek turns to the very first page that states the title. Under the ominous Demonic Omens and Possessions is yet again a penciled note:

Nikolai Plisetsky, 1995

“Nikolai Plisetsky?” Otabek says out loud before he can stop himself.

Otabek might just be a regular ghosthunter who never intended to hunt, but even he knows of Nikolai Plisetsky: a legendary hunter, travelling the country after demons, vampires, ghosts and other things and putting them down like it wasn’t a big deal. Otabek heard that some years ago he was on a hunting trip with his son and daughter-in-law when the married couple got killed by demons, and after that Nikolai dedicated his time to hunt down the demons in question. He’s kept low profile for a longer time now, yet his techniques and tips are practiced and shared among hunters every day.

Yuri glances at Otabek over the rim of his teacup and blinks. “Yeah, my grandfather. Most of the stuff is his.”

[capriciouslyterminal]

(chanting) SHE WANTS TO FLY SHE WANTS TO FLY SHE WANTS-

Okay so everybody needs to understand that @fastcardotmp3 changed my whole life by turning me into a Spider-Eddie truther and I have proceeded to think about it EVERY DAY of my MISERABLE LIFE and have proceeded to yell at them about it every day while also writing a drabble about Eddie and Chrissy. Here is that.

“It’s simple,” Chrissy says with a snap of gum as she blows a little green bubble (impressive for spearmint chewing gum but small potatoes compared to what she can do with an honest to God hunk of cheap bubblegum) to bite down on. She does this incessantly when she’s excited, and since she offered him a stick from her cupholder when she picked him up he knew he’d be listening to those snaps all night.

“But..it’s not though,” Eddie says as seriously as he can manage with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Like he wasn’t about to fold like a house of cards when she looked at him in that way she did. Like he could keep his stupid lapdog of a heart from leaping out of his chest to deposit whatever Chrissy Cunningham wanted at her daintily white-sneakered feet.

Eddie’s never had a pair of shoes that pristine even when they come fresh out of the box, and yet Chrissy Cunningham still manages to look mint condition even though they both hoofed it up the same hill from her car on the same blistery Hawkins evening. Her hair’s windswept but not messy, her face red at the cheeks and only on the tips of her ears like she was hand-painted.

Even under the most unflattering light, the flickering wash-out of gym fluorescents, Chrissy Cunningham makes life work for her in a way that Eddie is only now starting to get. Like she grabbed life sweetly by the hand and was already squeezing its palm before it could realize she wasn’t gonna let go until she was through. She was persistent, doggedly and gently so, and Eddie was the newest in a long line of people to get caught up in her wake.

And once she gets an idea in her head…well it can be impossible to shake it. Even when somebody like Eddie says, “how would we even get in the gym?” like he couldn’t scale a wall or delicately shove a window out of a wall. Like he was trying to pull hurdles up that she only sailed over. Chrissy claimed that once this year was over she was hanging up the pom-poms and going out for track.

But being a cheerleader has perks, apparently (aside from the skirts and the flexibility training).

Chrissy, as captain of the Hawkins Tigrettes, has a key and knows the alarm codes to get in the gym after hours. Eddie’s little inner vandal, who hasn’t gotten to play much as of late with his current roster of after school activities, positively drools at the thought of finally having a friend who could just let him into places. 

The sheer amount of shenanigans he could have once gotten away with, the unlimited potential that had lurked right under his nose, was staggering. Apparently while the rest of them have been sleeping off their youths the Hawkins Tigrettes regularly put in night practices (especially when cheer sectionals slowly creep towards them) and Chrissy Cunningham was the night-owl to end all night-owls. Apparently she’d done this with enough normalcy that she could swear up and down (“Scout’s honor,” with three fingers held up from her heart and eyes like the snap of wind against a flag) that nobody would pat an eye at the blip at the alarm company even though sectionals are like half a year away. And sure enough, the alarm was off. The lights were on. Eddie had single-handedly unrolled a blue cheer mat where Chrissy pointed, and yet none of it feels real.

It’s a kind of scenario he can imagine telling himself as a joke. Imagines an Eddie Munson from two years ago hearing about and swearing off of recreational substances because even he’d question what he was smoking to dream this up.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. So you’re a genetically hybridized freak and a former Snowflake Queen invites you to the gym at the asscrack of dawn with the intention of you joining the cheer squad. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Seriously stop me, this is fucking nuts.

[oldflyingraven]

Day 6: Proof of life

Theme: Proof of Life

Joe waits for a sign of life. Any sign of life. (Continuation of chapter 4)

Read it here or on AO3!

@whumptober-archive

The only thing giving away that Cleo was still alive was the way her eyes were moving under their eyelids. He hadn’t heard her speak since she’d said his name a couple of days ago. There had been no time for him to even respond to her call before she’d slipped away again. The fever had left her body, leaving it sickly cold. There was no pulse. She wasn’t breathing. Joe let out a shaky breath and ran his thumb over Cleo’s knuckles. Void, he hated seeing her like this. The skin and flesh covering her right ribcage had started to rot away. His first attempt at helping her with bandages soaked in healing potion had ended up eating away at her body more. Now it was wrapped with fresh bandages soaked in potions of harming. It healed normal zombies, but he had no clue if it would heal Cleo. But her eyes were still moving. That’s the one thing he could clutch onto. Her eyes were still moving. Her code barely revealing anything. All he could get from it was that something in her was still… alive? Fighting? It gave him a headache to look at. Touching it made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to do more but he had no idea where to start. Besides that, he was scared that if he touched her very being it would be the final push. If she hadn’t crossed that line already.

“Come on kid. Don’t leave just yet. There’s still so many things for us here.” he muttered.

Kid. Cleo truly was a kid compared to him. He’d been walking the worlds since the primes were still around. Honestly, he’d lost count of how old he was. And then you had Cleo. Sweet Cleo. His best friend. Who he’d known for years now. Who was just in her mid twenties. Old enough to be somewhat wise but still so young to him.

This was all his fault in the first place. He should have never brought her to that forsaken world. She’d begged him, but he shouldn’t have listened. Because now she was laying on a bed in his guestroom, as good as dead. A shaky sob worked it’s way out of him. “I need my adventure buddy Cleo. You can’t just die because of some stupid virus.” his chest tightened and he couldn’t stop himself from smacking his fist down roughly onto the bedside table. “This is unfair!” he cried. Seeing Cleo so vulnerable, so weak, it reminded him of the first time he’d lost someone to this virus. This glitch. Whatever this was. He remembered how his friend had writhed in pain. How the light had slowly left his eyes. How his skin had turned to a deep, rotting green. And how he’d finally slipped away begging Joe for help. He’d buried his friend deep in the ground before leaving that world. Sealing it to prevent the spread of the glitch. He didn’t want to do that again. He couldn’t do that again. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t bear to lose another one.

Joe was clutching on to any hope left. Cleo’s skin hadn’t turned the deep ugly green of a normal zombie. Nor had it taken on the sickly yellow of a husk. It sat between those, a pale green. Her code seemed to be stabilising marginally. New wounds were not appearing.

Void. He was desperate wasn’t he.

The tears finally fully broke through. He hated this. Hated being so powerless. Sobs wracked his body as he clutched Cleo’s hand tighter. “Come back.” his voice was thinner than he’d heard it be in a long, long time. “Please come back.”

He felt a slight pressure around his hand. Was he imagining it? Was Cleo really-

His eyes flew back up to his friend. Bloodshot and grey eyes were staring at him. Thin fingers enveloped his wrist.

Icy fear took hold of his heart. What if she had succumbed? What if she was going to lunge at him? He couldn’t bear to kill her.

All at once his fears were dispelled.

“Hi Joe.”

[dearthinkingoutloud]

"You were holding out to find the opposite." (pt. 1)

Pre-reading: Listen to "opposite" by Sabrina Carpenter

The first time that I heard Sabrina Carpenter's song "opposite", I was enjoying her DC stop on her Emails I Can't Send Tour. She had released her album by the same name a few months before her tour announcement and I BEGGED my parents to let me go. After being a fan of her for eight years, I would finally be able to see her in concert as my first concert without my parents! I studied the entire album for months (as if I wasn't already listening on repeat) leading up to it when suddenly, she released four extra songs including opposite. I listened to one of them before the show but wanted to experience the rest of them live, so I decided to save the other three for the concert on May 14.

When she finally played "opposite," I was listening intently to the lyrics and immediately broke down. With all of the adrenaline and energy in the room combined with the lyrics, the tears came quite quickly. The first lyrics alone...

"Oh, so you do have a type? And it's not me" and a few seconds later...

"If you wanted brown eyes I could have got contacts"

Now... I don't have blue eyes like Miss Carpenter, but I inverted it to fit my experience. In my head, she might as well have said, "if you wanted blue/green eyes." Like the TikTok I posted earlier stated, "this song is so WOC-coded (women of colour)," and so as soon as I related it to my life, emotions spilled out of me. In this song, she talks about the pain of someone you like or love moving on to someone else who looks opposite of you. Boy... does that sound familiar... As a black female who grew up in many predominantly white areas, this was unfortunately a common occurrence for me. On many occasions, I would develop crushes on people who expressed no reciprocated interest; in fact, they often looked the opposite of me. White or light-skinned. Blonde. Blue or Green eyes. This disappointing cycle continued so long that I started to look internally and wonder... is it me? What is it about me that you don't like? Are my eyes not special? Am I too dark? Too big? The people who did express interest in me were adults (gross, I know) and/or only sexual in nature which I quickly declined. My self-esteem and self-confidence took a deep decline very quickly.

At the end of the song, Sabrina sings,

"And I know now Even if I tried to change That somehow You'd end up with her anyway"

... which, as you can imagine, made me sob even louder. By then, I had learned the song and was able to sing it with her, so my new concert buddy and I began doing a cross of scream-singing and scream-crying to close out the song.

As a child into my teen years, I would await the day when I needed my ends trimmed so that I could have my hair silk pressed. I wanted to lose weight and didn't want to be taller. I was obsessed with Snapchat filters. They made my eyes bigger, my nose smaller, my lips the right size. I didn't fully grasp it then, but I had wished to look like the girls who everyone wanted (in my predominantly white school). That internalized racism villainized my natural beautiful features and made them the reason why nobody liked me.

In Chapter 8 of Speak Okinawa, Elizabeth Miki Brina recounts her teen years and how her internalized racism manifested in her actions. Previously, she had called herself racist terms, but when she turned thirteen, she, all of a sudden, tried to go by her Japanese name "Miki" (she didn't succeed since everyone had been calling her Elizabeth her entire life thus far). This may seem like a step towards embracing her Japanese side, but her internalized self-hatred (which she doesn't quite know yet) came out in her constant desire to have blonde hair, change her eye shape, and wear blue contacts. She continuously expressed how ugly her Asian features are and therefore, found ways to look different than her natural self. Her mom only feels further rejected by seeing how openly Brina despised the only part of her that was completely related to her mother.

As Sabrina Carpenter said, I know now that it was not me who was at fault or necessarily them for not liking me. Now, I have found love for my natural hair, skin, lips, nose, hips, height, and so on. Of course, I still struggle to love myself like most other people, but there is a clear improvement to my past mindset.

*Look forward to Part 2 in my next post!*

♡ dearthinkingoutloud

[snaileer]

YJ/DP Crossover 8

Phantom panted as he dropped the intangibility of the Bioship, sighing as his team exited unharmed.

Dragging it through a building straight from a portal was harder than he thought it’d be. And he only managed to hold it to one roof over.

“It’s probably better to leave Bioship in camouflage mode, M’gann,” Robin said as they adjusted to the moonlight, “Even if it is night.”

“Of course,” M’gann turned back to the Bioship to tell her that, only to stop short halfway, “Are a lot of Earth houses built like that here?

The team turned to look, their mouths dropping open.

“There’s no way that’s up to code,” Artemis said, aghast.

“I don’t even think it’s legal,” Robin added.

Everyone stared at the giant disk structure and glowing sign sitting on top of the frankly sketchy looking brick building below them.

Danny cringed, “Yeah that’s the Fent-the local ghost hunters place. They have the most stable portal to and from the ghost zone,” Phantom sighed, “They’re kinda the reason I’m here.” He quickly turned back around and started looking for the vulture, riding a little bit higher to see over the buildings, “Because we came through their portal that is,- and it’s basically the only reliable way to get to and from the living world and the Ghost Zone.”

The team cast each other a look; something was up.

“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time, we need to find that vulture,” Phantom said as he descended into the alley below. The team reluctantly followed.

“So this is your home, huh?” Artemis said, looking around the alley. Phantom peeked his head out of the alley cautiously before turning back to her with a sad look.

“Was my home. Follow me,” Phantom crept out of the alley quickly dashing into another one across the street.

Once the team had caught up, Wally asked, “So if this is-was- your home, why are you sneaking around?”

Phantom chuckled, “Let’s hope we don’t find out,”

The team followed Phantom through a couple more streets, occasionally flying above or having Robin scan or Superboy listen for the vulture. Phantom was starting to get irritated, and it showed.

“How fast can one stupid ghost bird be?!”

“You know, it might work better if we knew why exactly we were chasing some ghostly vulture, Phantom,” said Aqualad.

“You still haven’t told us,” Robin joined with crossed arms.

Danny sighed with his back turned to them, “From what I remember, it-they- the ghost vultures-they all work for this one freaky Vampire looking ghost. Plas…plak.. plasmius?” Phantom shook his head, “And somehow…. I think I’m connected to him… but one thing I do know, he’s my enemy. My arch enemy. And if anyone were to be behind all this mess, it’s Plasmius.”

Kid Flash zoomed up in front of them, out of breath and eating the last bites of a burger. Phantom stared at the burger for a few seconds before Wally started talking, “So.. I ran the whole East side town.. no sign of any vultures… green, ghostly or otherwise..” he finished the burger with a chomp, “A couple really nasty pigeons.. but no vultures, sorry man,” KF shrugged.

“Miss Martian, have you got anything on the psychic plane?” The team looked at the Martian floating gently with her face scrunched.

“I think.. there’s definitely something familiar another 2 streets over.. but I can’t tell if it’s the vulture, another ghost or just ectoplasm. It feels weird…” M’gann opened her eyes, the glow fading, “Almost contained or attached to something?”

Phantom nodded, “Worth a try then,”

The team slowly came out on the streets, glad for the lack of people around.

“This place sure seems empty..” Wally started, “Almost as if it’s a-“

Artemis slapped a hand over his mouth, “I swear to Wonder Woman if you say Ghost Town I will end you right here.”

Kid Flash nodded fearfully.

While the rest of the team lagged behind, Phantom moved forward, heading down the street M’gann had mentioned.

He floated about five feet around the corner before promptly turning invisible and shooting back around it.

He became visible again as he approached the team, already hearing several shouts and beeps behind him.

“Time to get a move on gang!” He shouted, grabbing Artemis and Robin’s arms and pulling them along, past the corner again.

The rest of the team followed, just in time to see several men in white suits jump out of an alley and start chasing after them.

They picked up speed on their own after that.

“Why are we running?!” Wally shouted.

“Cuz they’re chasing us!”

“And why aren’t we fighting them??” Superboy growled back.

“Because finding Plasmius needs to happen first!”

“Who exactly are they and why are they chasing us?!” Aqualad asked as he lagged just behind Phantom.

Phantom grimaced, debated telling them and then promptly sped up instead, “They don’t like me!”

He turned left the corner sharply, only to see a giant tricked out RV Truck soaring down the road towards them. Phantom turned the other way, the team following.

“Who are they?!” Robin yelled, dodging a green laser from the headlight of the truck.

“They don’t like me either!”

Phantom came to a fork in the road, swinging right until he abruptly turned left again.

The large skeleton faced ghost from before stood in the other street, now chasing them as well.

“And who’s that!?” Artemis shouted, throwing a foam arrow behind them to delay it.

“Let’s just assume that for the moment, everyone here doesn’t like me!“

They ran desperately through the alleyways until the roar of a jetpack sounded and ghost with a flaming Mohawk trained a bazooka on them.

“Lemme guess, doesn’t like you?”

“Yep!”

Phantom dodged again, grateful when M’gann and Superboy threw a collection of dumpsters to block the path behind them while Artemis temporarily broke one of Skulker’s thrusters.

He spiraled towards the ground.

Moments later, a red figure on a hover board flew past them in the sky, “Another person who doesn’t like you?”

Phantom’s eyes lit up.

“Maybe, but I know someone she does like so it’s worth a try!” He zoomed towards her.

“Phantom?! When did you get here?!”

“Just now, and I’m having a bit of trouble, care to help?”

“Why would I help a stinking ghost like you?” She sneered.

“Cuz you know I’m not all bad and I can introduce you to a real life superhero team?” He said hopefully.

Huntress glanced down to his team in the alley, her eyes widening comically as she fumbles the balance on her board and Phantom lurches to catch her.

She stared at him in surprise before deciding, “Fine! But you have some explaining to do after this! You owe me!” Red Huntress pressed some buttons and a hologram of Phantom appeared in front of her.

The real phantom takes the hint for what it is and goes invisible.

“I’ve got you now Ghost!” Said Huntress as she zoomed away, Phantom projection in front of her anda whole collage of his enemies following in her wake.

Phantom popped back into visibility in the alley.

He sighed with relief, “Thank goodness that worked, she was just as likely to shoot me down.”

The team’s eyes bugged, “How’d you convince her?!”

Phantom rubbed his arm and avoided looking at them, “I may have promised she could meet all of your guys…. Hehe.”

Superboy growls, “We’re not celebrities.”

“No but Red Huntress-no, Va-nope, Red Huntress, she’s always kinda been a superhero ghost hunter here as well. I imagine she picked up the slack while I was gone.”

“You bet I did!” A squeaky indignant voice shouts from above them.

They look up to see Red Huntress floating above them, she quickly drops down, hoverboard folding into an ecto gun in seconds. She slams Phantom against the wall, ecto gun against his chest, “Now just where have you been this last year, Ghost?!”

Phantom raises his hands in surrender, simultaneously motioning for the team not to act.

They relax. Barely.

“The GiW. I got captured, Red.”

Red Huntress seems shocked and hesitates a little bit before leaning back in,

“Serves you right, Ghost scum, but why are you back, with supers to boot?”

“I don’t remember much, honestly Red, a lot more now, but it’s pretty spotty,” Phantom shrugs.

Red finally backs up, ecto gun disappearing into her costume. “And the mini-heroes you brought?” She looked the group up and down critically, “What are they, The Justice League junior?”

Superboy took an angry step forward, quickly stopped by M’gann’s hand on his chest.

“Red Huntress, this is my team, Robin, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Artemis and Kid Fl-,” Everyone waved at their names, except Kid Flash who zoomed up to Red Huntress and took her hand.

He kissed it with a bow, “Kid Flash, speedster extraordinaire, at your service.” He grins, pointedly ignoring the gagging sound Artemis was making behind him.

Red grimaced, “Charmed.”

Wally got closer, throwing an arm over her shoulder, “Oh I’m sure.”

Huntress rolled her eyes, “And I’m done,” she grabbed his arm, quickly swiping his feet out from under him and flipping him onto his back.

The team snickered as Kid Flash groaned.“Phantom, why are you back?”

“Uh… heh,” Phantom looked at Wally nervously before swallowing, “I’m looking for Plasmius. I don’t know what he did, but he had something to do with this, I just know it.”

“You got that right,” She scoffed, “come on, follow me to the school.”

They crept through the late afternoon streets, thankful for the shadows and lack of working streetlights. Something about collateral damage?

When they got to the school, instead of going in the front, Red led them around a side entrance.

Once they were inside, the team looked out on the school’s boiler room.

The whole room was scattered with kids holding ecto-weapons.

“What… is this?”

“This Phantom, this is the Anti-Mayor-Intelligence-Troup; youth. We are AMITy now.” Valerie looked at them grimly, “You said you came here after Vlad?”

Phantom nodded.

“He’s gotten worse than you know. Come on.”

She led them around the side of the room to what looked like an old security office, helpfully keeping the superheroes out of sight.

“I’m technically the leader, but all this wasn’t just my doing. I think you’ll want to meet my second.”

“Val, why are you being.. so…” Danny stared at the door Valerie opened, “..vague...Dani!?”

The small girl in question whipped around from her seat in the office, eyes brightening.

“Da-Phantom!” The girl rushed forward, feet barely touching the floor. Actually no, wait, did her feet touch the floor at all??

“Phantom!” The two collided, spinning around each other in a hug. There was a flash of light and suddenly, Dani looked very different. Artemis shouted in surprise.

She looked just like Phantom.

The two looked almost scarily alike. Danny had the largest smile on his face, laughing with Dani.

And the team realized…

“They’re siblings!!” Wally gasped, pointing his finger wildly.

Danny laughed harder.

“Not quite!” His smile widened as he threw his arms out to display the girl, “Team! This is Dani, my clone!”

Superboy blinked.

“Your what?”

Part 1: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/661211386227064832/yjdp-crossover

Part 9: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/673754316661817344/yjdp-crossover-9

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36374176/chapters/90685825

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

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