#they are so young…. just outta college maybe

[kitdreamzing]

Lads are only 22

[cheryap]

ive gotten well damnginto this song

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day fourteen: degradation kink

>>> so clearly i have a lot of issues...y'all gonna hate me for this one i can just feel it in my bones but guess what....i do not care! toji is degradation need i say more?

>>> starring toji fushiguro x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: dilf!toji, age gap, college aged reader, mafia themes, dad's best friend toji, degradation duh, no prep, exhibitionism, breeding, a daddy theme? you don’t ever call him that it’s just. yes. dark content maybe? just in case. creampie, pet names. >>> wc: 3.6k >>> event masterlist

it was risky, you know, and most certainly wrong. you should be disgusted. he’s been married—lost his wife, has a young kid, all things much more adult than you’ve ever had to deal with in your college-aged life. he’s a horrible man, though you suppose your father isn’t much better since they work so closely together, not that you’re supposed to know anything about the work they do. all you know is they make way too much money and carry way too many guns for their jobs to unrelated to the mafia crime wars making the news. you should be disgusted and scared, yet here you stand, in front of your mirror trying to find the best outfit to wear downstairs to greet your dad’s sexy colleague. 

you were only in town for so long since you were just visiting your family for summer break, so you had limited time to try and lure him into making a move. so you settle for a black bra that enhances your bust, covered only with a black glitter mesh long sleeve and a matching leather mini that clings to your ass. it was definitely a heels kind of night, and the pretty black louboutins you slid into elongate your legs perfectly. after some hair and makeup, you sling your purse over your shoulder and only make your way down the stairs when you can hear his deep voice speaking with your father. 

you stride past the office, knowing your dad would stop you. your heels click against the mahogany and as if on cue, your father belts your name. you grin to yourself, everything was going according to plan. you turn, clicking back to lean into the room. 

“yes, daddy?” you hum, batting your eyes so innocently when you were the picture of anything but. it makes a vein in your father’s forehead jump, but alas, you’re a grown woman who makes her own decisions. just rest assured the weight of god would come down on whoever wronged his baby girl. 

“where’s my princess going?” he coos, giving an apologetic glance to his coworker. luckily, he feels his eyes and meets them, giving him a nod of forgiveness. 

“oh, just going out with some of my girls! becky just got out of a relationship–she needs the club!” you titter adorably, feeling his eyes bore into you. you give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “hi mister fushiguro!” 

the scarred corner of his lip creeps into a grin, a finger salute serving as his greeting only because he didn’t trust his mouth to keep his thoughts at bay. you’re sexy as fuck, and totally off limits. it only makes him want you worse, though it doesn’t help you’re the hottest bitch he’s ever seen. 

“do be careful, princess.” he smiles, clueless to how his friend eyes you up. 

“course daddy. can i take your black card?” you pout so endearingly, toji would give you all the money in his wallet if you asked. your father hums approvingly and fishes it out of his wallet, holding it up in the air for you to retrieve. your heels click and your hips swing as you make your way over, displaying your delicious figure perfectly. toji thinks it’s a miracle your father hasn’t had to kill anyone over you yet. you lean over the desk and take the card with perfectly manicured fingers. he watches it all, already planning how the rest of this night would go once you left. 

“be careful.” your father reiterates, and you roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. 

“don’t worry–my guys can handle anyone who gets outta line–satoru and suguru would never let anything happen to me.” you swear, batting those long lashes again. your father seems comforted by this, but toji is only aggravated to learn you have male friends. they no doubt wanted to fuck you and were only biding their time just as he was. “bye daddy, see you later mister fushiguro!” 

and just like that, your red bottoms carried you away with obnoxious clicks telling him just how far from him you were. your father sighs heavily. 

“what a handful that girl is.” he says affectionately, shaking his head as they get back on task, your father giving toji a rival kill for the night. he grins at the file, knowing he’d be able to wrap that up rather quickly and then get to the real target. 

you’re haunted by how effortlessly good he looked, and how unable you are to do anything about it on the way to the club, only wallowing in your desperation for a man way older than you. he was just so big, tall and broad and had to be even stronger than he looked. you knew he was experienced and rough, he would definitely be able to take care of you, if only you could work up the nerve to actually hit on him instead of these passive aggressive attempts at drawing him to you. it clearly wasn’t doing the trick, even if you could tell he wanted you. you’re so lost in your own head that the driver has to get your attention multiple times before you realize that you’re outside the building. you step out and shimmy your skirt down a bit further. 

the sound of your friends squealing as they wait for you draws you right to them, painting a smile on your face to celebrate you friend’s breakup—shoving hopes of toji fushiguro finding you at the club tonight to the back of your head. the scene is nothing special, just like every other clubbing spot in every city in the world. it’s all neon lights and smoky clouds of tobacco and marajuana both, the smell of liquor and vomit mingling together to make your nose scrunch and sting as you enter the dingy dance floor alongside your closest girls—and the bodyguard boys trailing behind you. your group makes their way to the bar immediately, fruity mixed drinks and beers being handed out for the first of many times tonight. you can feel the buzz of excitement in the air even though you were feeling let down, perhaps that was because of the group of fellow college-aged boys eyeing you and your friends down from the dj booth. you play your little games with the man staring at you longingly, downing the rest of your liquid courage to go ask him to dance. 

his hands were clammy, but at least he smelled good—like too much cologne and the gum in his mouth, his body pressed up against yours as you two sway to some electro-funk beat meaninglessly. You can feel his sweaty hands trail along your waist and hips, even lowering to your thighs and inching his fingers up the already short leather skirt, and your nose scrunches up in distaste. it was better than wondering about your father’s right hand man though, so you settle for it. you tell yourself that if you think hard enough, you can picture him instead. it doesn’t take as much effort as you thought. the clammy hands of the college boy disappear to be replaced by the coarser broader hands of an older man, the heavy cologne replaced by a natural musk with hints of a beach bonfire mingled in. his hands would move along your body expertly, he would know the ins and outs of the female anatomy–surely able to please you in all facets. you can just imagine his smirking face as he leans down over your shoulder to whisper something raunchy in your ear, something about how he’s been waiting to make you his since the minute he saw you. 

which is almost exactly what happens, except the man you’re daydreaming of stands in front of you looking real amused, seething almost. “princess,” he snarls, the bass in his voice alone enough to shock away the little boy grinding into your ass. “here i was thinkin’ ya got all dressed up f’r me.”

the red and green strobe lights of the club dance off his sharp features, highlighting the jealousy and intrigue swimming in his eyes. there was a splatter of blood on his cheek, but otherwise he looked as gorgeous as he normally did. his black t-shirt looked nearly spray-painted on the way it was highlighting every ridge and muscle in his chest and torso, and his usual pants clung to the taut muscle of his broad thighs. 

“i did, but you shrivel up in front of my daddy.” you tease, unsure of where your courage to poke at the dangerous and large man came from. “now you wanna come here and scare off the ones bold enough to dance with me?” 

you’re evil, you’re sick in the head, but you smirk like you knew he would fall into the trap easily. and he does. he grabs your wrist and spins you around, and you feel the warmth of his fingertips digging into your hip. another one of the college boys watches with contempt, nursing a bloody nose you imagine he earned with some slick comment— that explains the fresh blood on toji’s face. he presses up against you, dropping your wrist in favor of a hold on your throat, not too good to manhandle you in public. what’s someone gonna do? intervene? call the cops? that makes him laugh. the grip on your throat is surprisingly light, though the threat of something more punishing looms large. you feel his chest rumble against your back— he was laughing at your tense form, the beat of some rap song thumping in your ears now. 

“yeah, that’s exactly what i did.” he snarls in your ear, his hold on your throat keeping your back to his chiseled chest, not that you wanted to get away anyhow. “shrivel up,” he chortles at your dig, replaying your little tantrum. “y’know the only reason i can’t manhandle ya in front of your pops is ‘cuz he’d get so stupid i’d have to kill him. want that, sweetheart?” 

you’re embarrassed you have to keep yourself from nodding—wagering your father’s life just to have his colleague the way you wanted, how shameful. he spits these pet names like they’re insults, like he knows what you really are. a little whine of desperation leaves your throat and you press your ass back against him, collecting your thoughts to find something to say to drive him wild. “do whatever you gotta do, i’m familiar with the business—just want you real bad, mister fushiguro.” 

it works, everything you do puts him deeper under your spell, gritting his teeth in frustration as he falls for you. it’s more embarrassing for him than it is for you, really. he’s a grown man enchanted by the supple body and soul of a woman a fraction of his age. but he can’t stop himself from tailing you on your outings, telling himself that your dad pays him a pretty penny to keep you out of harm’s way, and that’s all he does. but he goes above and beyond, especially on nights like these when some little boys are feeling a little too bold for his liking. so of course he followed you here, and of course he broke that scrub’s nose who said something about your ass, and of course, it was just a matter of time. until he just couldn’t lie to himself any longer about what he wanted. until you pushed him over the edge and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

“oh yeah?” he hums, brow arching up as his hands slide down your hips, playing with the hem of your skirt. “you really that big a slut for me? you’d let me kill your precious daddy?” he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss under your ear. he radiated warmth and possessiveness and his fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs. you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or his words but you’re buzzing. you can feel his handprints practically searing into your flesh, the two of you barely moving to the beat that drowns out all other noise. 

he slaps your ass. “asked you a question.” his gravelly voice rasps in your ear, the scraping of his teeth against your flesh comes next instead of a sweet kiss. you whimper out a bit and nod, feeling the heat course around your body in a mixture of embarrassment and deep arousal. he was right—you were a massive slut, dedicating your entire summer break to getting his attention in hopes he would touch you like he is right now. 

“can’t hear ya–might be th’ music?” he taunts, sliding his other hand away from your neck and over your voluptuous chest. he grunts impatiently as he feels the dips of your body and that coarse sheer top beneath his fingertips, waiting for you to obey. 

“yes—i’m’a slut, mister fushiguro.” you hiccup from the vodka running through your veins and the embarrassment stinging at your eyes. his chuckle rumbles through his chest again, though not in the way it did earlier. he spins you around to face him, pinching your chin in between his forefinger and thumb. 

“call me toji, dollface.” he smirks as you nod sheepishly, suddenly shy now that you were getting your way. he was even scarier up close, beautiful features twisted and darkened to reveal his sinister nature. but you find a way to get lost in hooded eyes of green reflecting the crazy flashing lights as he looks past you, trying to find somewhere to take you. he locates a bathroom, dragging you behind him with another commanding grip on your wrist. he has the decency to pull you inside the women’s stalls at least, reserving the biggest one for your activities. he would just fuck you out in the open to really show you how crazy you make him, but he can’t risk making that big a scene—and he’d probably have a few more bodies to bury if anyone looked at you the wrong way. 

you stand in the middle of the stall, watching him secure the lock and turn to you, chuckling at your waiting expression. you were nervous, wanting to impress but not sure where to start despite the hot need snowballing in your center the longer you stand there and look at him. he tilts his head up and you walk towards him, his smirk spreads. 

“you’re an obedient lil pup for such a spoiled bitch.” he chuckled, shoving his beefy hands under your top and pushing it and your bra up over your chest. you swear you can feel your panties dampen from the words alone, why did you like it so much? you open your mouth to respond, stammering over your speech. 

“i’m–i–i’m n-not—” 

“spit it out, pup.” he laughs, feeling at the round mounds you barely kept covered. they’re just as fat and soft as he knew they’d be, and his cock starts responding to your little whimpers as he massages you roughly, pulling and pinching at your nipples. 

“not a—not a slut!” you huff out despite the way you lean against the wall to relish his callused hands on you. he snickers again, the sound so mean it makes you pout up at him. it only makes his cock harder. he drops his hand to cup your pussy, earning a gasp from you. you bite down on your lip as he shoves your thong aside and crudely collects some of your slick on his digits. he clicks his tongue when he shows you, fluorescent lighting and your arousal making his fingers shine. 

“not a slut? then what’s this?” he arches a brow. “seems like y’r dribbling down y’r legs to me.” he taunts, pale pink lips stretching into a menacing grin. he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, shoving his fingers past your pout until they tickle the back of your throat and you gag. the sound makes him shudder a bit, and he’ll make sure you choke on his dick next time. “say it or i’m goin’ home. not giving my dick to liars.” 

you clean his fingers, intrigued by the sweet acidity of yourself. your eyes widen a bit at his threat, knowing you were defeated. his other hand tugs at your hard nipple again and you wince at the delicious pain. you pull off his fingers and resume that adorable pout. “guess i am–i’d do anything!”

he laughs and yanks your skirt up to your waist, letting his thick fingers play over your swelling clit tauntingly. “then beg for dick like the little whore you are.” he says in a faux-non-chalance. your breath hitches at his feather light touch and demeaning command, but as he steps back and pushes down his jeans, your mouth waters. 

“oh god–” you whine aloud, legs pressing together at him. he was huge, wrapped in bulging veins and gorgeous ridges. his black hair was trimmed around his base, full balls hanging low. you lick your lips at the sight of his hand closing around his shaft, and you gulp when you realize just how big he is, a massive hand not enough to contain him. “fuck. toji–please, i want you so bad.” you bat your lashes at him, fixated between his dick and his piercing stare. “may be a whore—just for you though, been waitin’ on you to notice me. “

oh, he noticed. you made it impossible not to, looking like pure sex every time he saw you—but the glossiness in your eyes and the slight bruising around your tits really brings it all together. he drops the baby changing table and looks to you. he does it so effortlessly you wonder for a second if he’s done this before, but it didn’t matter either way—you would be the most memorable for sure. 

“bend over.” he adds, the dark pools of lust taking over the greens of his eyes. you do as told, feeling embarrassed at your disheveled state as you lean over the table attached to the wall and part your legs, feeling his hand come down on your ass roughly. you squeal and jump a little bit before his hand snakes between your thighs to feel just how ready you were. “poor old man. gonna be so devastated.” 

“don’t care.” you whimper, wiggling your ass back to feel more of his cock as he slides it along your folds, stealing some of your wetness for himself. he chuckles, grabbing as much of your fat ass as his hand could hold. 

“course y’don’t. y’r my little whore.” he grunts, jiggling your cheek. “he’s right though. you really are a handful.” he chuckles at his own joke, aggressively shoving his thick cock past your tiny hole, cussing at the tight fit. “see? swallowing me up like it’s all y’r good for.” he huffs against your neck, leveraging his weight to snap his hips against you like he hates your guts. you’re clawing at the textured plastic under you, his pace absolutely brutal and ripping guttural cries from your throat. he reaches around to clap his hand over your mouth, not wanting anyone to come running thinking someone’s getting murdered back here. “loud slut too, hah?” 

you nod, rendered unable to do anything else. he pounds into you, jamming his leaking tip into the entrance of your cervix, sending blissful pain shooting through your body. he was even better than you imagined, tingles shooting everywhere and blurbs of white floating across your eyes. your arms start to wobble as you hurtle towards your orgasm, and toji reaches out–making a ponytail out of your hair to pull on, snapping your back into a deep arch. he grunts at the vision before him, your pussy was gripping him like nothing he’d ever experienced. 

“never fucked a whore cunt like yours–maybe i’ll cum real deep in it so i can keep you.” 

you clench at that and he tosses his head back to groan, amazed by the recoil of your ass and the choke of your walls. you whimper in his hand, the idea of feeling his cum was so hot to you—you couldn’t possibly delay your own release any longer. he feels you still, your pussy spasming around him as your body goes completely limp. you still make your little noises of approval as he uses you. 

“aw, you liked that, huh? you’re nasty, bitch.” he chuckles deeply now, cock twitching in your womb. but he’s just as bad, fantasizing about how you’d tell your father that news, how he’d do anything it took to see your slutty body grow into a motherly one. he paints your walls in thick, hot ropes, stilling inside you. “guess megumi could always use a sibling.” 

he pats your ass with something akin to affection and slides out, watching beads of his seed trickle out. you pant and try to collect your thoughts, expecting to hear the lock of the stall click open and toji’s footsteps pad away from you—no doubt slipping back into the night to patrol for your father like usual. but moments pass, and you don’t hear anything other than you’re own breathing until he clears his throat again. 

“so. wanna get some food’r somethin’?” he thumbs at the corner of his lip anxiously, and you swear you can see the hint of a blush on his nose. so this is the part that makes him nervous? 

“huh? you tryna be my boyfriend or my sugar daddy?” you giggle as he repositions your skirt on your hips. he rolls his eyes.  “more like your baby daddy, dollface.” he spanks your ass and opens the bathroom stall, letting the lady go first—showing you that he’s a perfect gentleman.

[marvel-rhapsody]

Watching Airplanes | Jake Seresin x reader

Watching Airplanes | Jake Seresin x gn!reader

Word Count: 900+

CW: use of the word "beautiful" to describe reader, unedited

Based on the song Watching Airplanes by Gary Allan

✈️❤️✈️❤️✈️❤️✈️❤️✈️❤️✈️❤️✈️

~Sitting out here on the hood of this truck, looking up. At a caramel colored sunset sky. Checking my watch, doing the math in my head. Counting back words from when you said, "Goodbye". Well those runway lights are getting brighter.~

Graduation was just a couple months ago. High school was over, and now your entire lives are ahead of you. You and Jake were the perfect couple. That was until he decided that he wanted to join the Naval academy instead of college like the two of you had planned. He broke the news to you a week ago, and now you're leaving for school, states away from Texas. 

Jake parked his truck in private property. He watches as planes land and take off, all while sitting on the warm hood of his pick-up. 

Jake thinks back at the conversation before you left for the airport. The hurt in your voice, the look in your eyes.

"I want to do this... I feel like it's what right for me, baby," he had said to you. "I thought you would be the one person to support me on this." 

"But what about OUR plans, Jake? We wanted to do this together." you felt selfish while saying the words, but your emotion were getting the best of you. You love him, and he's leaving for the Navy. "We have so much planned, Jake. The rest of our lives together. I just wished you had told me sooner."

"We can still do all those things. We're young, baby, we have all the time in the world. Don't act like everything we planned for is ruined. We're just getting started."

He watches as a plane taxis away from the airport. The runway starts to glow brighter. 

~I'm just sitting out here, watching airplanes take off, and fly. Trying to figure out which one you might be on, and why you don't love me anymore. Right now I'm sitting out here, watching airplanes. 

The planes speed grows as it gets closer and closer to the end of the runway. Jakes wonders if it's the one you're on. Which seat you're sitting in; which song you have playing through your headphones. Or maybe you have a book open, or maybe you're just watching the world move through your possible window seat.~

He thinks about if that was the end of your relationship. Was that the final straw? Was he supposed to just move on and forget about you? Did you even love him anymore? 

His thoughts are over taken by the sound of the wind pushed towards him by the plane. 

~I would've lied, could've cried, should've tried harder. Done anything to make you stay. I wonder what you'd do if you looked out your window. Saw me running down the runway, just like I was crazy. That fence is too high, so am I.~

Jake sits for a while longer, watching more planes go in and out of the airport lights. He thinks about you; your looks, your scent, your laugh, your sobs as you walked away from him a few, short hours ago. 

He thought about driving after the plane. Following it until his truck ran out of gas, or until the clouds hid it from sight. 

What would you do if he showed up to your dorm room? Would you welcome him back, or would you just push him away? Would you wrap your arms around him or just say the tables have finally turned? 

~I'm just sitting out here watching airplanes, take off and fly. Trying to figure out which one you might be on, and why you don't love me anymore. By now I know you're thirty thousand feet above me, but a million miles away. By now, I know I outta act like you don't love me.~

After what feels like hours, Jake finally slides of the hood of his truck, and watching as another plane takes off. The door slams shut and the tears finally fall down his face. His sobs wrack through his body, and he can't quite control the shaking as he lets his emotions take over. He knows that you'll forget about him, that eventually, you'll stop loving him. 

A few months later, Jake sends you a letter from the Academy. He doesn't know if you'll read it, but he wants to let you know that he thinks about you all the time. And that you're the only thing getting him through his training. 

When he got to the Academy, he had finally decided that he wanted to be an aviator. Watching all those planes that night made him realize that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to feel free why flying through the sky, wanted to see the ground from miles above. 

He explains everything to you. How he'll always love you, even if you don't love him anymore. He thought that you would always be the one that got away. 

Years later, when he gets called to Top Gun for a special mission, he hears his name being called from the bar of the Hard Deck. 

He almost doesn't recognize your voice. You've grown up, and have become even more beautiful than he could've imagined. 

Maybe this was his second chance. Maybe he could finally get you back. You still have the rest of your lives ahead of you. A few years apart could never change that. Not when you've still loved him after all this time. 

[kylelover]

I feel like Kenny lowkey would have like a young adult pregnancy with gf!reader. Like he’s irresponsible, I love him but it’s true. Kinda fresh outta high school but a little bit old enough. But I feel like he would be such a good dad just by the way he is with Karen, maybe headcanons for what that would be like?

Headcanons about Kenny and his S/O becoming parents as young adults.

— This man would be TERRIFIED. He'd pass through all stages of grief at the same time.

— He was scared, he didn't think he'd be a good father. Deep inside he was afraid of becoming like his parents... of treating his future kid like they treated him, of not being able to provide stuff to them.

— However, Kenny is a good partner, and he'd stick by his S/O. He'd tell them they can handle this together and be there for each other.

— His experience with looking after his little sister, Karen, would help him with the baby stuff. He's got some parenting skills already. Thanks, dad.

— Kenny would take the responsibility seriously and be devoted to creating a safe and loving home for their child. He might take on extra jobs to get enough money for the kid.

— He'd also talk to his close friends like Stan and Kyle about what to do and to get some emotional support... the one with better advice was Kyle, by the way.

— Kenny knows how important education is, so he'd try to keep going to school. He might take classes at night or online, he believes college is important as so is his newborn. Taking balance between both of these was a hard job for him.

— He'd go and research about parenting, telling you tips and "life hacks" (Sorry, Kenny, but that 5 Minutes Craft crib isnt gonna work).

— Kenny would be a loving dad for sure. His experience with Karen would help him connect with their baby and take good care of them.

— He'd be willing to give up some things he likes for the baby's sake. That might mean less time for himself and more for the family. (No more playboy).

— As time goes on, Kenny would grow up and become even more responsible. He'd face the challenges of being a parent with strength and a lot of love for his growing family.

— Once your child turns into a toddler, he'd be the most protective parent ever.

— Your baby looked a lot more like you than him, which made him look at them endearingly everytime he glanced at the child.

[urfavnegronerd]

percy jackson brain-rot as i begin the books again

as someone whos hopelessly devoted to the workings of rick riordon i absolutely never understood percabeth

like,

they're literally 12, children, CANNOT LEGALLY DRIVE OR CONSENT TO SEX at the end of the og series (chalice of the gods) and niggas really out here shipping the fuck outta them

shit dig hard enough on a03 and there's prolly smut of the two of em

never understood it, like i get a cute lil mutual pining thing where they both like each other but a whole ass ship never made sense. like no, the two don't make babies. why? CUZ THEYRE BABIES THEMSELVES

edit:

okay to clear things up cs people are in the comments saying i don't know what a ship is (i'm literally a fanfic writer on here but okay)

i'm just saying that these are literally little kids in middle school. i'm not saying that middle school kids don't have relationships, but it's still weird. and from, i'm boutta geek out about this incredibly obscure topic i'm sorry, a developmental standpoint middle grade children are nowhere near psychologically ready to be in a relationship which is why it's extremely rare to see couples who have been together since middle school (that one episode of abbott elementary). if you go on tiktok and look for people who broke up with someone they were in a relationship with from middle school- high school, those breakups are traumatic

all breakups are traumatic in some way, but there have been several people who have developed traits of borderline personality disorder because they broke up with someone they had been romantically involved with since middle school.

also let's not forget how warped your view on intimate relationships go (fucking. imma say it the way you think about fucking is skewed). the people i've spoken to who broke up with their middle school partner in their older parts of high school have recounted just how awful their view on sex was, some have even pondered if they were asexual because they couldn't picture themselves up under anyone else.

like i get it, it's cute to see little kids who like each other, but most of this fandom are of age to drive, to study for the SATS/gsces, some are able to legally drink in the united states, or applying to college. these are little baby children that high school students and young adults should not be playing match maker for. ALSO WALKER SCOBELL IS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL/ HIS FIRST YEAR IN HS HE WAS BORN IN 2009.

anyway,

i get it, we all have head canons, but shipping two middle schoolers who a) may or may not have started puberty b) did not stay at one school for too long c) don't know trig formulas d) may or may not have had their first period/ voice dropped/ you get the picture.

SO

i don't understand percabeth as a whole romantic ship, but mostly as a fluffy little middle school flirty thing (prolonged eye contact, stealing hats, asking if they can hug/kiss at a certain time, etc.)

i love love love the concept of seaweed brain and wise girl, smartwater, percabeth, whatever, I THINK THEY'RE ADORABLE but i don't understand the draw of why people feel the incessant need to make it extremely romantic. like why why whyyyyyyy. can we js let them be kids, because lets be real a lot of the newer additions to this fandom only know about the show (and its okay we love you guys anyway its just that some of us have read the books too, its not required for you to love the show that you need to read the books) and are already talking about 'annabeth and percy need to just kiss already' no they don't. cs percy just lost his mom (i know something you dooonttttttt) and our cutie patootie annabeth is still lowkey a mystery (i'm guessing?? idk i haven't watched the show yet i think im gonna pirate it soon or smth, im js assuming because idk what point the show is at in relation to the first book), etc. can we maybe not make them a whole ass ship until the show is in relation to the last few books of the series. lets js let them be kids for now.

AND THIS IS NOT TO SAY THAT I DIDN'T LIKE WHEN THEY WERE AN ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP IN THE LATER BOOKS OKAY ITS NOT TO SAY THAT im just saying that i didn't understand the concept of percabeth within the first few books because it was a little wonky to really really want two twelve year olds to be in a relationship. they're cute when its in the last few books but come on yall. lets not ship them yet. also report any smut you see of them that's not cool or rick riordon approved.

theyre still babies, even if some of the fandom has read all of the books and others didn't.

does this make sense?

xoxo,

rae <3

[starwalker03]

Young justice question. Do you think the team went to each other’s high school graduations?

Man. I never thought of that.

I honestly feel like Conner didn't graduate. Because like... Why. I feel like someone mentions something to him along the way about high school dropouts and he's like "wait I don't actually have to be here?" And proceeds to immediately start the paperwork to get outta there before he even considered maybe he should tell black canary or red tornado or, hell, M'Gaan about it. Man has no interest in high school, or university, and has most of Wikipedia in his brain.

Everyone else, though, I feel they graduated.

Dick practically had to be dragged kicking and screaming because by the time he's getting to senior year he's just done with it all and has no intention of going to study business or whatever the fuck all the Gotham socialites think he'll do. Inherit WE? Disgusting. Never. He doesn't even want the trust fund Bruce has for him lmao.

Artemis mostly sticks around because Dick is there, and so is Babs, and Wally is set on college. Like she's neither here or there on college, but Wally is set on it, and she doesn't hate the idea of living and studying together in Keystone City (as they are in season two). So she sticks around, does the work, graduates. I honestly think Dick probably graduated early because he wants to get this shit done, so he and Artemis would be graduating together. Wally is definitely there for that. M'Gaan would definitely be there as well, and Zatanna as well. Idk when M'Gaan and Conner canonically break up, but if they were still together at that point in time she'd get Conner to come along.

Artemis and Dick definitely go for Wally's grad. I think M'Gaan would want to go but Wally would say he'd prefer she didn't. He's gonna have his family there, and his school buddies, and he's gonna be so busy already he knows he won't get time to hang out with M'Gaan and Conner and Zatanna and Raquel. He tells them they'll all hang out or smth afterward, or on the weekend, but not to bother day of.

M'Gaan would invite everyone to her graduation. Conner would definitely go, planning to do so before she even asks, because he knows the other people graduating with her and has kept up with them, so it's a package deal scenario. I think everyone would go because like. it's M'Gaan. you can't not.

I think Kaldur goes to everyone's graduation, except M'Gaan cause she's like 'maybe don't'. it's weird for him cause he's not a student, and as much as Atlantians do have schooling and everything, surface peeps probably have different customs to what he's used to.

I feel like Zatanna also doesn't bother to graduate. she's going through a lot, having lost her father to Doctor Fate, and like. the girl isn't interested in going to college, not really. she's a magic user, and that tends to chew up all your time. but she definitely goes to graduations and cheers people on.

I'm honestly not sure what Raquel's vibe is. I don't even know if she's in school. cause like, Icon isn't an alien I don't think but he's usually off world? I think? like I feel like Raquel is kinda always busy and often leaving the planet. she's also one of the members of the team who actually joined the league as soon as possible, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was because she took the time to dedicate herself to hero work and didn't have a huge interest in typical high school. But she'd go along for graduations if she wasn't busy.

[miryum]

The Witch and the Spirit (Newt x Reader)

Warnings: angst with happy ending, someone dies for a brief amount of time, witchyness, spells and magic, talk of death (cause, ya know, they’re ghosts), fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

I worked so hard on this fic and I hope you guys like it. It was requested (a while back,) by @the-bibliophile-public-library and here’s the summary: Reader is an eclectic witch that moves into a decrepit, Victorian Home, which is filled with spirits, while she befriends, and encounters love on the way with Newtie!!! Alongside Newt, Thomas, Minho, Teresa, Gally, Chuck, ect. are spirits that perished in the home throughout the century and have been roaming through its damp walls ever since.

“Are you sure this is the best decision?” Sonya asked, lugging a box in the house. 

“Why not?” Y/n shrugged.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Brenda said sarcastically, “maybe it’s just that this house is haunted?”

“You really believe those stories?” Y/n asked. “It’s all folklore. There’s no evidence to back it up.”

“You of all people should believe it.” Brenda said, referring to Y/n’s practice of witchcraft.

“Well, maybe I do.” Y/n said, “but the best thing about this is that it came at a very low price.” She looked up into the large house, crying out, “I mean, look how big it is!”

“It was a good bargain,” Sonya agreed.

Brenda sighed, “just don’t come running to us when the lights start to flicker ominously.”

“Ooooooo!” Sonya moaned like a ghost, waving her fingers towards her friend.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/n laughed, “If there are any ghosts, then I’ll befriend them!”

Chuck gasped. “Did you hear that?!” he grabbed at Thomas���s arm. “A new friend!”

“It’s not like she can see us,” Gally grumped. “And why would we be friends with a living? We’re so much cooler.”

Watching the three living friends move in were seven ghosts. True to the rumours, the old mansion was haunted. Thomas, Teresa, Minho, Newt, Alby, Gally, and Chuck were the resident spirits.

“At least she’s young.” Thomas said, shrugging. “Not like the other old grandpa we were all afraid was going to die and then we’d have to be around him forever.”

“She’s young?” Minho asked from his game of chess with Newt. His floating piece dropped to the ground.

“It’s a girl?” Newt looked up as well. The chess could wait; he was already beating Minho at the game and he wanted to see this girl.

Alby, Minho, and Newt joined their friends at the railing. “Wow.” Alby commented, “I’m surprised she has the guts to move in.”

“Probably just a daredevil college student,” Gally sighed. “She’ll be outta here in a week. Not before throwing a huge party and messing everything up.”

“Ooh, a party!” Chuck squealed, “that’ll be fun!”

“Do you remember the tricks I taught you to scare someone?” Minho grinned. 

“Of course!” Chuck replied, “I could try them out on drunk college students!” Minho high- fived him.

“What bedroom are you gonna take?” Brenda asked Y/n, carrying in a heavy, clothed- filled box. “I’m gonna drop this soon.”

“Um, the one next to the library.” Y/n directed her. 

“Are the books still there?” Sonya asked, following Brenda with another box.

“I think so. Won’t it be so cool to read books from a hundred years ago or something?” Y/n smiled widely. “I wonder what stories they have in them.”

“You nerd,” Brenda rolled her eyes. 

“Newt,” Alby started, “isn’t that the room you use? Your study or reading room?”

“Uh, yeah.” Newt stifled a cough. “Guess I’ll have to move for the time being.”

The spirits followed the three girls into Newt’s study- now Y/n’s bedroom. Y/n opened the boxes and while Brenda and Sonya helped put away her clothes in the antique dressers, Y/n started pulling out crystals and candles by the dozen. 

“Still don’t know why you collect those heavy- ass things,” Brenda muttered. “Being the one to carry them up, I have a deep hatred for them.”

“It helps calm me!” Y/n protested, meticulously setting them up. 

“Are you sure you have enough stuff to fill this mansion?” Sonya asked. 

Y/n shrugged. “I’m just glad it came with the furniture. I didn't have to go out shopping for like, eight dining tables.”

“Oh,” Chuck drifted closer to the crystals. “What are those?” He reached out to touch a swirling blue and green one, wanting to see his hand wave through it, and surprisingly, his hand didn’t wave through it. Chuck reeled backwards with a scream, knocking the crystal down with a clatter. 

Y/n’s head whipped towards it, eyes narrowed. She hummed thoughtfully, gently setting the crystal upright. 

“What was that?!” Chuck screamed out, backing into the other distressed ghosts. 

“He touched that!” Minho yelled out, “he touched that!”

“Alby, what does that mean?” Gally asked hurriedly. Alby and Newt shared a glance. Teresa slowly approached the crystal and poked it with a finger, not using her ghost- powers. It wobbled at her contact, but she didn’t let it fall.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Alby whispered. 

Newt wondered out loud, “could she be another of… magical descent?”

“Remember when Teresa died?” Alby said, mostly to Newt. The others listened in. “She spoke of people that called themselves witches. But not like my witches- kind ones. Ones that practised it for the better. They used crystals and candles and cards. There were different kinds too. Like, moon witches or garden witches.”

“Yeah,” Teresa inputted, “one of my friends was friends with someone who just used nature or plants to make themselves feel better. They talked a lot about appreciating Mother Earth.”

“Do you think this new girl would classify herself as a witch?” Newt asked. 

“A modern one, maybe.” Teresa said, “but not like the ones the media portrays.”

“The media?” Gally was confused. 

“Remember? I told you about TV’s, computers, and other things.”

“I’m sorry,” Gally held up his hands, “but all I had was the radio.”

“So if she’s a witch- but let’s not jump to conclusions,” Newt said, “then maybe we could contact her. Chuck’s already proven that we can touch her materials. Maybe she’ll call out to us with an Ouija board or something.”

Teresa muttered something about old souls. Newt frowned at her words but Thomas and Minho stifled laughter.

Y/n lit her candles, joking, “I need to cleanse this house. Who knows what evil spirits are here?” Sonya and Brenda laughed, but the ghosts were worried 

“Evil spirits?” Chuck worried. “We’re spirits.”

“But we’re not evil,”  Alby countered. 

“Well, Gally is.” Thomas shrugged. Gally swung a punch at him, but Thomas just giggled as it connected with his transparent body, not harming him at all. 

Y/n placed the lit candles around the room, softly humming to herself. The ghosts waited for a moment, but none of them disappeared. They all sighed in relief. 

“Well,” Sonya said, “we’ll leave you to get settled in and come back in a couple days?” The last part was a question. Y/n nodded, showed the girls out with many hugs and cheek kisses, and then entered her room again, finalising the finishing touches. 

Newt watched her curiously while the rest seemed kind of bored, rummaging through the new humans’ things. Y/n put up pictures of her family and friends, Newt following close behind. He saw a picture of her and a boy that seemed to be her age. Was that her brother or boyfriend? Something ugly stirred deep inside him. 

Oddly, then Y/n sat cross legged on the floor, holding some smaller crystals in her hands. She started rocking back and forth slightly. Breathing steadily, she closed her eyes. Something had seemed off about this house, even before she bought it. Something called to her, so she knew she had to buy it. Taking in deep breaths, slightly unsure if it would work but desperately hoping, Y/n called to the spirits she knew were there. She had never tried such an intense spell before; usually her spells were simple things such as warding off evil spirits, bringing good luck, or willing the anxiety to leave her. Such a powerful spell such as seeing spirits or ghosts was something she had never considered. 

When she felt the magic come to a calm, Y/n slowly opened her eyes. Sitting in front of her, mirroring her criss-crossed stance, was a fair haired translucent boy, staring at her inquisitively. Y/n screamed loudly, jumping backwards. Newt startled, standing up as well. 

“Why is she screaming?” Thomas asked. Y/n whipped around and when she saw him poking at her boxes, screamed again. 

“Wait,” Alby started towards her, “can you see us?” 

“Who are you people?!” Y/n shrieked, backing up into a corner and answering Alby’s question. “How did you get in my house?”

“Your house?” Gally scoffed, “we’ve been living here far longer. Wait,” he stopped, “you can see us.”

“Yes I can see you!” Y/n cried, “What do you mean?! And how did you get in here!? Get out now!”

“We can’t,” Teresa said, “We’re tied to this house. How can you see us?”

“Are you ghosts?” Y/n asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Newt answered, examining her.

“Then I guess the spell I said made you visible to me?” Y/n shrugged, “I have no idea.” She sat down. “I can’t believe you guys are spirits!”

“We are,” Newt affirmed. 

“How did that happen?”

New sat down on the bed next to her. “We don’t know. The first one to die on this property was Alby. He died right after the Salem Witch trials. Minho then bought this property and died when he got ran over by one of his bulls.”

“Really?!” Y/n snorted.

Minho rolled his eyes and said, “At least I didn’t die of being cold!” Chuck gaped at him. Thomas patted the boy's head reassuringly.

Newt elaborated, “Chuck died when he was young- younger than all of us. Of hypothermia, or as Minho calls it, ‘being a wuss to coldness’.”

Minho chuckled, ruffling Chuck’s hair. “Still love you, little bro.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chuck waved him away, smiling.

“Next, I died,” Newt continued, “and then Thomas by a gunshot wound. After five dead children, people began to suspect the property was haunted.”

“How did you die, if you don’t mind me asking?” Y/n cautiously ventured.

“Doesn't matter,” Newt evaded the question, waving her away. He felt bad for not telling the truth, but he would tell her later. “No one lived on if for a while, and that’s when the five of us became really close. Gally’s wealthy family were the ones to build this house around World War One. He was just a kid then, but died in World War Two of wounds after he came back home. His family lived out their days, but none of them died here. Other people came and went, but the rumours and suspicions still surrounded this place. It didn’t help that Thomas, Chuck, and Minho made it there goal to terrorise anyone who stepped foot in here. Teresa, around your age when she moved in, died a few months later of cancer. She would’ve been in the hospital, but she refused. And that’s how we got our final seventh member.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of information to take in.” Y/n said, running a hand through her hair. “So, what things can you guys do as ghosts?”

“We can’t really touch anything.” Thomas waves a hand through one of Y/n’s boxes of clothes, his limb travelling right through it.

“But it was you guys who knocked over my crystal?”

“Yeah…” Chuck looked guilty, “that was me.”

“It’s okay!” Y/n quickly said, picking up on his shift in mood. “I just wanna know how you did it.”

“Not sure.” Teresa said, “Usually we can touch things if we try really hard- or at least bend inanimate objects to our will. For example, we really like playing chess and can make the pieces float to where they need to go. However, if we’re not concentrating, then we kinda just pass through things.”

“So are you all concentrating on not falling though this floor?”

Alby explained, “Not really. At first, yes, a ghost has to learn how to work their new abilities, but after a while it becomes second- hand nature.”

Y/n nodded, finally getting a grasp on it all. “And you all just live here? Together?”

“Yep!” Minho said happily, “We’re like one big, happy, family!”

“You’re actually in Newt’s room right now.” Thomas offered, not helping in the slightest. Newt shot him a look. 

“Oh my gosh!” Y/n stood, “I’m so sorry! I can pick another room or something if you’d like.”

“No no!” Newt was quick to reassure her, “It’s completely fine! I don’t sleep in this room- none of us need to sleep if we don’t want to. I just like to use it because it’s next to the library and it’s easier to read if Minho and Thomas aren’t rushing through it on their weird adventures or dares.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Newt smiled.

Y/n slowly sat back down, laughing sheepishly. “I actually chose this room because it’s next to the library. I would love it if you could give me recommendations.”

“I would love to!” Newt beamed, not telling her that he knew of her desire to choose this room as they had all been listening in before. “Teresa and I swap recommendations all the time, though she’s more into the non- fictions and I like fantasy, science- fiction books more.”

“He also likes romance.” Chuck added. 

If Newt could blush, he would be. The boys all cackled at his embarrassed face, but Y/n simply smiled kindly. “Oh, that’s okay,” she said, “sometimes I like romance too.”

“Okay!” Newt was relieved. “Actually, I can show you some of my favourites now! Come on.” He bobbed up from the bed and slowly floated out of the door, showing Y/n to the library. He was considerate of not going through the walls as he normally did, instead showing her the way. 

The rest of the ghosts stared after them. 

“Is it possible,” Gally started, “that Newt has feelings for a living girl?”

“Um,” Teresa scrunched her eyebrows. “I think it’s very possible.”

“I would say a bad word,” Minho groaned, “but Chuck’s here.”

“I’m literally older than half the spirits here!” Chuck cried. 

Meanwhile, Newt glided down the hall, showing Y/n to the massive library. Books covered the walls and ornate carvings on the shelves. Three stories high, it was an impressive sight to behold. 

Y/n, after admiring the rows and rows of books, couldn’t stop staring at the space between Newt’s floating feet and the floor. 

“Are you admiring my floating?” Newt chuckled.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Y/n hummed. “I’m also wondering if I should tell my friends about you and the others. I’m still half convinced I’m crazy and you’re all a hallucination.”

“I promise we’re not.” Newt said. 

“Exactly what a hallucination would say.” Y/n countered. 

“True,” Newt laughed at that. 

“I’m also just really proud that I could summon you guys,” Y/n said, “that’s a pretty big step for a witch. And the fact that I can see you, talk to you, and you back, without some sort of interference is amazing!” Newt grinned at her excitedness. “So, what books would you recommend?” Y/n sucked in a breath filled with exhilarating nervousness.

“Well, what genres do you enjoy?”

“Just give me your favourite book.” Y/n said, “I like reading someone else’s favourite book as it weirdly makes me feel closer to them. Like I understand them better. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Newt looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world. “I completely understand.” 

“So, what’s your favourite book?” Y/n prompted him after the slightly awkward silence. 

“Well, I like anything Shakespeare has written. And there are so many classic fairy tales that people don’t appreciate anymore. I would recommend Romeo and Juliet if you haven’t read it already, but also The Time- Traveler’s Wife is fantastic.”

“Ooh, I would love to read both. Where are they?” 

“I actually have a shelf that I like to keep all my favourites on,” Newt explained. “Unfortunately, Alby was cleaning a little while ago and had to move them. They're up on a higher shelf.”

“Is there a ladder that I could use?” Y/n looked around. 

“Oh, no.” Newt scratched his neck. “You see, we don’t have a need for ladders cause we can… you know, float.” Newt flew up a couple feet to prove his point. 

Y/n chuckled. “I guess so. Could you go get them? I wanna see your powers.”

Newt nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about his fear of heights. He hadn’t always been afraid of heights, but ever since his death, he had been avoiding them. “Yeah,” he swallowed his fear and said, “I can get them for you.” Newt drifted upwards towards the top shelf where Alby had stored his books until he was done cleaning. If Alby had known Newt wanted to reach them, he would’ve never put them up so high, but what can you do? New quickly plucked out Romeo and Juliet and The Time Traveler’s Wife for Y/n, before quickly floating back down. He handed them to Y/n, the tip of her finger brushing through his. 

“Thanks,” Y/n’s smile made it all worth it. “I’ll get started on them right away.”

“Well, don’t you wanna explore your new house?” Newt asked, “Chuck and Minho know all the secret passageways. Alby can tell you the entire history behind this property. Thomas can help you decorate. Weirdly, he has a good eye for that kind of thing. Gally can fix anything that’s not working. He may need to get the shower up and running again. Teresa knows all the nooks and crannies. She can also whip up a couple of mean muffins.”

“You guys can eat?”

“We don’t have to, but it’s nice every once in a while to be reminded of what ice cream tastes like.”

“And what do you do in the house?”

Newt hesitated. “I guess I just make sure everything’s running smoothly. While Alby insists everyone needs a schedule to make sure we’re not bored as hell, I’m the person that makes sure people stay on their schedule and help them if need be.”

“So you’re a very important part of this house?” Y/n asked with a hint of a tease.

Newt breathed a laugh, waving her away. “No, not really.” 

“You are,” Y/n insisted. “It sounds like you do the things no one else wants to do.” 

“I guess.”

“Hey,” Y/n’s eyes lit up, “why don’t we celebrate my moving in and making several new apparition friends by having a movie night? I can help Teresa make cupcakes or something, we could pop a couple bags of popcorn, pick three movies and get to know each other better? I mean, I’m essentially becoming your guy’s roommate who just showed up. I didn’t ask for your permission to move here- I just did. This could be my ‘thank you’ for letting me stay.”

“That sounds awesome.” Newt said, “I’ll go tell the others.” He happily drifted through the wall before remembering Y/n couldn’t pass through solids, popping his head back out the wall, smiling sheepishly, and returning to her.

**

Y/n and her ghost friends had been getting along splendidly for the last few weeks. Teresa would make Y/n a nice breakfast in the morning, more if the others wanted some, before Y/n woke up. Then when Y/n went to work, the spirits did their Alby- mandated chores as always. Gally was busy human- proofing the house and Thomas had already helped Y/n unbox everything and decorate Newt’s study as her bedroom. Newt had graciously moved his reading room to the room right next to hers. When Y/n came home, Chuck greeted her with a strong hug and Minho with a ruffling of her hair. Newt always watched from the foyer. And Y/n always noticed him and pulled him into a long hug. While making dinner, Y/n and Teresa pulled everyone else into help. Chuck usually stirred something or snuck some unbaked food. Minho washed dishes while Gally dried them. Alby handled the oven and Thomas the chopping of fruits and vegetables. Y/n and Teresa worked on the main meal and Newt flittered around doing whatever else needed to be done, causally brushing up against Y/n.

After dinner they settled for either a game night or movie night if Y/n didn’t need to spend some more time working. When Y/n needed to work, Newt would sit by her and make sure she wasn’t overworking. However, sometimes Newt would find Y/n pacing her room, whispering away on her phone or pouring over a book. He would keep his findings to himself, although wondering what she was doing. Other times, Y/n would be found in her room, surrounded by candles meditating. 

“Hey Y/n?” Newt approached her one night while she was on the phone.

“I’ll call you back,” Y/n said quickly. After a second, she softly rolled her eyes and said, “I love you too.” 

Newt frowned but continued, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we were wondering if you wanted to come down?”

“Of course!” Y/n nodded.

“May I ask who you were calling?” Newt wondered as he walked her down the staircase.

“My grandma,” Y/n explained, “I was hoping to get some… counselling.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Y/n looked around for any of the other ghosts before gesturing for Newt to follow her. She led him to an unused room and turned to him, excited. “I’ve been looking around and talking to my grandma, who’s also a witch, and reading some books. With a little magic,” the girl looked hesitant yet hopeful, “I may be able to bring you guys back.”

Newt reeled backwards. “What do you mean you can bring us back?!”

“Okay, well, it’s not a little magic,” Y/n conceded the truth, “it’s a lot of complicated magic. And some of it may be black magic. But it’s for the greater good! So it cancels out. My grandma warned me about it, but I think after I-”

“Y/n.” Newt steeled her. “No. You can’t do that. Trust me, it won’t work. Listen…” he took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. “You’re not the first witch to live here. Before Gally died, there was another who lived here. Her name was Ava Paige. As a young witch back then, she thought she could do anything. She was indeed powerful, but we got a little too close to her. We trusted her too much. She wanted to bring us back, like you, so she dipped into the dark arts. It- It didn’t turn out well. By just brushing into the darker arts, her soul was consumed and she be- became inhuman. It was terrible.” Newt ran a hand through his hair. It fluffed up because of it. “Thomas had to pick up a shotgun and kill her. You don’t see her here because something evil was inside of her. She didn’t return after she died. I don’t want that to happen to you, Y/n.” For the first time since he started talking, Newt looked into her eyes. 

“Newt,” Y/n’s voice broke, “how did you die?”

“I killed myself.” Newt revealed. “I died by suicide. Alby and Minho kept trying to stop me but I couldn’t see them until it was too late. I woke up as a ghost with three boys I didn’t know staring down at me.” 

“Oh, Newt.” Y/n lunges forward to hug him, but Newt, not expecting it, lets her tumble through him and put the other side. Y/n sighed, unable to comfort him. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible. I wish I could hug you.”

“Just- please don’t try to bring us back.” Newt cautioned her, “I don’t want you disappearing into a blackness that only death could pull you out of. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. I don’t want you to die.”

“But then I could be with you.” Y/n whispered, “Eternally.”

“Don’t you dare,” Newt shook his head. “I will not let you. Stay alive for as long as you can. Love your life to the fullest. I will not have that gift ripped away from you.”

“Newt,” Y/n’s voice trailed off as Newt hurridley floated away, once again running a hand through his hair, despair haunting his face. Y/n’s jaw tightened as she took out her phone and dialled her grandma. “Grandma,” she started, “hi. I was wondering if you could send me the book?” After quiet, urging words on the other end of the phone, Y/n said, “Then maybe we can come to a compromise. When’s the next full moon?”

**

With her Grandma’s book in hand, the full moon overhead, and surrounded by all her candles and crystals and plants, Y/n sat cross- legged. She had drawn a circle around herself and had gotten everything ready. 

She only hoped that the ghosts wouldn’t figure out what was going on until it was too late. 

Y/n started chanting slowly, fixating on the words from the book. Her chanting grew louder, the candles flickering and wind starting to howl outside. She called upon any deity she could think of, using all the different types of magic her grandma had taught her. 

From downstairs, Newt glanced up from his book, something troubling him. 

Y/n took a deep breath before chanting the second line of the spell. Then the third line, and back to the first. If she were to open her eyes or break her concentration, she would find the candles all blown out and the book laid closed before her. As Y/n repeated the first line, something bubbled from deep inside her. Something dangerous she instantly knew should never have been touched. However, she pushed through. Dark veins started crawling up her arms, the punishment for crossing the dark line of witchcraft. They climbed higher and higher eventually reaching her elbows before- 

The door slammed open and Newt, along with the others rushed through. “Y/n!” Newt cried once he saw her state. 

Y/n’s eyes flew open and for a second Newt swore they were pitch black. An animalistic rage buzzed with her glare. Then the spell broke and they turned back to her normal, e/c colour. 

“What were you doing?!” he screamed. Alby, Thomas, Gally, and Minho rushed into the room, tossing out the candles, cleansing the crystals, and erasing the circle as Teresa held Chuck back. 

“Why did you do that?!” Y/n yelled back. “I was so close! I would’ve done it!”

“Look at your arms!” Newt cried, rushing to her, “A few more seconds and you would’ve been gone!” 

“I wasn’t completing the full spell!” Y/n argued, “I had everything prepared. I was doing it under the full moon and altering it so you guys would only be human again when the moon was at its most powerful! It wasn’t like Ava, I promise!”

The rest of the spirits froze at the name. “How does she know about that?” Alby asked, voice dangerously low.

“She told me about her plan so I told her of Ava to warn her,” Newt replied slowly.

Alby took a deep breath before saying, “Newt, I understand you feel for this human, but we have no control over them. We promised never to speak of Ava again.”

“I’m sorry, Alby,” Newt said, “but I couldn't let her do this. I just couldn’t.”

Y/n rubbed at her black veins. Why did they scar if the spell didn’t work?

“Newt,” Y/n whispered, “I think it might’ve worked.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, distracted.

“I completed the spell. But I told you, I didn’t go all the way. I modified it so you would only return to living humans under the full moon. Well, it’s the full moon and I think it worked.”

Chuck interrupted the conversation by jumping loudly up and down. “Oh my god,” he beamed, “I don’t go through the floor!”

“Chuck,” Teresa chastised, “you’ve been practising your whole life. Of course you don’t fall through the floor.” 

“Yeah,” Gally said, “but Minho, Alby, Thomas, and I just picked everything up without having to think about it.” 

Y/n looked hopefully at Newt. He glanced back at her, worried. Then, Y/n leapt forward and engulfed Newt in a hug. Newt stumbled back, surprised. “I caught you,” he whispered. 

“It worked!” Thomas cried. The others started jumping around and shouting, overwhelmed by the newfound realisation. Teresa used a small knife to cut open her arm, eyes growing large when blood started to blink out. Minho and Thomas embraced, clapping each other on the back and Chuck flopped onto Y/n’s bed, feeling the comfort of a blanket once more. Alby stood in the middle of the room, tears brimming his eyes. Was he actually alive? Gally couldn’t stop yelling, grasping all his friends in a tight hug. 

Newt and Y/n just kept hugging each other. Newt squeezed her tightly, afraid it was all a dream and she was going to disappear. Real tears, which he had not been able to conjure since death, slipped down his face and he took joy in feeling them. He gripped Y/n even tighter, her shirt bunching up underneath his fists. Y/n hugged him back, knowing that she shouldn’t let go. Overcome with so much emotion, Newt simply buried his face into the crook of her neck, quietly sobbing. 

“Newt?” Y/n gently pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. Her thumb swiped away his tears. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m better than okay, love.” Newt’s voice broke. “I’m fantastic.” 

“It’s only during the full moon,” Y/n looked ashamed, “I’m sorry I couldn’t extend it longer, but everyone will be spirits except for one day a month.” 

“It’s perfect,” Newt swallowed. “Bloody perfect. You’re bloody perfect.”

Y/n scoffed and shook her head. “I could’ve done better. It’s not-” Newt cut off her worries with a kiss. 

Y/n startled backwards and Newt immediately felt terrible. “I’m so sorry!” he started rambling, cheeks coating with an embarrassed blush. “I should’ve asked but I didn’t. I just messed everything up by not asking and I’m so sorry-” 

Y/n didn’t say anything except pull him close and kiss him again. “Just caught me off guard,” she mumbled. Newt beamed before bending down and pressing his lips to hers. 

Minho was first to notice, letting out a loud ‘whoop’ that gained everyone else’s attention. Thomas wolf- whistled which only made the lovers smile and deepen the kiss. Gally hid his blush at the display and Teresa grinned. Alby laughed out of pure delight for them and Chuck made a gagging noise, burying himself in the blanket. 

Newt slowly pulled away, smiling wildly. Life was certainly going to change. 

**

While life continued as normal in the ‘haunted mansion’, there was an air of happiness ever present that wasn’t there before. Teresa would hum to herself while baking and Alby was seen laughing more often. Even Gally was caught smirking whenever he found something amusing. 

Y/n would come home from work as always, but it was Newt she greeted first and then Chuck and Minho. 

In the days leading up to the full moon, the house got livelier and livelier. Thomas would chase Chuck around before Newt would call out in warning. Chuck would yell something about himself being indestructible and Minho would swoop in, lifting him high into the air. 

When the fateful day came, the spirits did whatever came to mind. Gally challenged Ably to a duelling match, each poking and prodding each other with dull swords, oddly relishing in the fact that blood could be spilt. Teresa conducted experiments in the kitchen, excited to actually be able to smell the chemicals or accidentally cover herself in pink dye. Thomas and Minho would dare each other to complete life- defying stunts such as jumping out a window or drinking Teresa’s new concoction. Chuck always followed closely behind, a little scared that something may happen, but also willing himself to be brave enough to do what the older boys did. 

Newt and Y/n would always disappear, either into the library or her room as the full moon declared their date night. The others knew not to disturb them, mostly out of kindness, but also Y/n’s strong glare whenever one brought it up teasingly. None of them really knew what they did (although Thomas jokingly thought they dramatically reenacted Shakespeare while Minho wiggled his eyebrows; though he couldn’t say his thoughts in front of Chuck. Chuck, however, made a point to not jump on Y/n’s bed anymore unless he was certain the sheets had been cleaned). Truth be told, the couple did whatever they pleased; whether it was calmly watch a movie, curl up and reading together, having an indoor picnic, or something else. Whatever it was, Newt would always absentmindedly stroke Y/n’s blacked veins, forever grateful of her sacrifice. Y/n woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, plagued with nightmares, but Newt was quick to comfort her. It was always worse the closer they got to the full moon. Nonetheless, everyone in the house, dead or alive, were content and happier than they had ever been.

However, people do get older. While Y/n grew up, the spirits stayed the same. Newt was always worried she would move on to another house, but she never did. She never got married, either. Sonya’s children would come over, along with Y/n’s nieces and nephews, begging to hear stories from their auntie. Y/n would sit them down, alcohol in hand (forever loving her and Brenda’s role as the wine aunts,) and tell them stories of witchery, spirits, monsters, and her still black veins. The children would watch with large eyes, terrified, yet enamoured. After each story was done, the never ending questions of “was it real?!” came forth. Y/n would simply laugh and raise a toast to her spirit friends watching from the kitchen. Newt would raise his glass back, smiling. But a small part of him felt guilty while watching his love be surrounded by kids. Did he take that away from her?

Yet, the tradition of dying young in that house didn’t stop. While in a heated discussion with Teresa one day, at the age of twenty- one, Y/n slipped on the stairs, tumbling down and hitting her head on the polished wood. Teresa let out a scream, signalling to the others that something was wrong. But they were too late. Y/n lay in a growing puddle of her blood. 

If Newt could cry, he would’ve. A hollow scream left his lips as he stared at his beloved. He crashed to the ground next to Y/n, cursing every god he knew. Frantic, and not thinking clearly, his translucent hands swept through her, willing Y/n to just wake up. Minho gripped his shoulder firmly, reminding him it would be okay. It would all be okay. Alby slowly drifted towards the phone, a deep aching feeling of melancholy in his chest. He called the hospital.

When the paramedics came and found the body with no sight of who called, the police were called in. Pictures were taken with an invisible boy weeping over the body of his lost love. 

Alby knelt down next to him. “It’ll be okay,” he reminded Newt, a sharp edge to his voice. 

“I kept her from having a good life!” Newt cried out, his true thoughts coming through. “She stayed here because of me! I’ve cursed her to stay here for all eternity!” 

“Newt.” Alby tried to talk sense into him. “Y/n loved it here. She loved you. She loves you. She’ll be back.” 

“Look at her,” Newt whispered, gently running a hand over Y/n’s cold face. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, lifeless. The colour had drained from her body, leaving Y/n as white as the ghosts. 

“She dabbled in black magic,” Gally said quietly so Newt couldn’t hear her. Even if he could, he was in his own little world. “Are we sure she’s going to come back?” Alby and Minho shot him a glare, telling him to shut up. Thomas shook his head. 

Eventually, after crime scene photos for a forever-to-be-opened case were taken, the paramedics gently lifted Y/n’s body onto a stretcher, draped a white cloth over her, and took her away. In her place, laid a translucent outline of Y/n. Newt gasped in relief, pulling Y/n’s spirit up into a hug. Slowly, Y/n opened her eyes. 

“What happened?” she groaned. “Why does my head hurt?” 

“You died,” Minho said bluntly. After Teresa hit him over the head, Minho quietly apologised. 

“What does he mean, Newt?” Y/n looked at the boy, only then realising that she could see through her hands. “Holy fu…” Her eyes widened and she started hyperventilating. “I died? I can’t die. I shouldn’t die. I’m a ghost? I- I- wait? Newt?” She turned to him for answers, but Newt was only grinning. 

“I’m so happy you’re not dead!” He yanked her in for another hug, then elaborated, “I mean, you are dead, but I was worried you may not come back as a spirit. I’m sorry you died. It’ll take a lot of getting used to, but we’ll help you to adjust. I- I feel terrible though.” 

“Why?” Y/n asked him, brushing some of his hair out of his face. 

“I kept you in here for so long. You didn’t get to see the world. And now you’re trapped in this house forever. I’m so sorry.” Y/n wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying; she just kept running her hands through his hair. “What are you doing?” Newt asked, swatting her hands away. 

“I can touch you.” Y/n laughed softly. “I can actually touch you. M- My hand doesn’t go through you anymore. I can touch you!” She laughed louder, and Newt, perplexed but just happy she was smiling, laughed along with her. “Newt,” Y/n reassured his concerns, “I don’t care about that. I saw the world before I moved here. And now, my world is you.” 

Minho pretended to gag behind their backs. Thomas laughed but Teresa pushed the both of them over. 

“I was just so worried you were gone.” Newt said softly. He swallowed, trying to keep everything at bay. 

“I’m not,” Y/n reassured him, “I’m here. And everything will be okay.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

[schlattsdoll]

Hi I’d love if you could write more of proven innocent!eddie? Like after the court case he comes back to school and gets good grades so he can graduate, and people actually applaud him. Then him and reader go off to college while renting a cute apartment!!

fuck the rest! - e. munson

pairing; eddie munson x female reader

warnings : minors dni!!!, takes place after ‘86 baby! (not  necessary to read first but it might be nice!), eddie being a menace, self doubt, mentions of chrissy, slight s4 spoilers, you are responsible for your own media consumption!

eddie was fully exonerated of the charged against him and was free to return to hawkins high. to almost everyone else, he was still the freak who “got lucky” and rode off his girlfriends family’s power. everyone but his forever loyal hellfire club.

the day he returned, he insisted that you walk in with him in a pair of handcuffs and that he breaks them to showboat in front of the lunchroom. much like any stunt he pulled, he got looks and jocks getting annoyed.

he triumphantly climbed atop the hellfire table and shouted, “citizens of hawkins high! lend me your ears! it is with great pleasure i announce the return, nay, the final farewell tour, of eddie the freak!” he punctuated his sentence by pulling his bound wrists apart, breaking the cheap metal easily as he bowed to one tables applause.

you and dustin sat at the table banging your fists down on it, chanting “eddie, eddie, eddie.”

that first day back into society was one of the best days of high school. after that, eddie applied himself more and finally managed to graduate with you. the day he found out he was able to walk across that stage was the second happiest day of his young life.

you genuinely couldn’t tell who your family was more proud of on that day; of course they loved you and screamed for you, but when the principal groaned and called eddie’s name, you saw them jump up, and you could’ve sworn you heard your father call him his son-in-law.

he made good on his promise to snatch the diploma, flip not just the principal but everyone who doubted him off, and run like hell outta there. not before grabbing your hand and dragging you with him.

the rest of the ceremony was spent with you two sitting in his van waiting for everyone else to come back out. in that little bit of privacy you dug around your bag for a small gift box.

“eds, im so proud of you baby. it isn’t much but i got you a little something. congratulations my love.” you kissed his cheek as you placed the black and red wrapped box in his hands, and his face flushed.

“actually, y/n, i have something for you too. hang on.” he smiled like a kid on christmas and flung himself into the van searching frantically. “aw don’t tell me i- oh wait, is that it? nope. wait, maybe? YES!” he climbed back to where you two were sitting and fixed himself. “it took me a while but it’s part of my promise to you. i love you angel.”

you simultaneously unwrapped the gifts and eddie almost cried. he saw a matte black guitar pick, engraved with “rock on babes” and a ring that matched the skull one of his he gave you as a promise ring. on the inside you had engraved “forever my freak. love your angel.”

in your box was a single key on a black sabbath keychain. “let me explain. remember how i said i was saving up for a new guitar?” you nodded at him, still very confused. “well, i, uh. i kinda lied to you. i was saving up to get us our own place. o-only if you wanna move in with me that is! i know we’re young and you have it made at home but i got so used to spending the night with you when i was hiding away and i don’t ever wanna wake up without you in my arms again angel.” now it was your turn for your face to heat up.

“of course i’ll move in with you eddie.” you threw your arms around his shoulders and you toppled back into the van. “i picked a place close to campus for us, so easy commutes.” he smiled as he kissed your forehead.

the next four years were bound to be amazing, from getting eddie involved in college theater, him excelling in creative writing classes, getting to see dustin graduate, and of course, your wedding. on that fateful day eddie smiled at you and laughed. “what’s so funny?” you asked him.

“i didn’t do too bad for a freak huh?”

[gatalentan]

HOTEL ROOMS | AO3

Summary: The Young Melissa/Barbara cross an invisible line at PECSA.

She could feel herself sinking into something that might burn them both alive. This wasn't a game anymore.

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

"Oh my god, I think my feet might actually fall off."

"I told you to wear comfortable shoes, but did you listen? No..."

Mel had been so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Barbara had invited her to PECSA with her, a year-and-change into their friendship. "It'll be much more economical if we share a room and carpool," - she'd said - "and also a lot more fun." She couldn't say no to that argument, really - not that it took a whole lotta arm twisting. She was excited about going to the convention in general - it was such an amazing learning opportunity. But it had come at a weird time in whatever it was they had going on.

She'd caught Barbara, on the highway, staring at her just a little too long, acrylics digging notches into the steering wheel, and figured that this was maybe getting a little mixed up for her too. Mel knew she was hot, she wasn't a complete dumbass, had had enough (unfortunate, messy) relationships through high school and college and after it too. She was pretty self-assured about all that. Saw the look in mens' eyes whenever she went into a bar. But as far as she knew Barb was straight. Married, even. Which didn't explain why she occasionally felt, saw, her eyes, intense, on the side of her face, or sometimes, well, her tits, in the break room, like she was a Rubix cube or something that she was trying desperately to solve, like she'd somehow invented gravity, like she'd hung the moon, like she wanted to rip her shirt clean off, her hands knuckling her coffee cup like it was the fuckin' Titanic door. Maybe she wasn't as straight as either of them thought.

She never mentioned it, or caught her eye. But it did stuff to her. Made her wanna preen, a little. Show off, a little. Dress nicer. 'Platonically' (yeah, right) touch her arm, knee, just a little bit longer. Push her luck. Just to see if she could get a reaction outta her. Test how well she could keep up her mask. It was the uptight ones, y'know? It did it for her. The challenge was fun, and this was just a game, just teasing. It didn't have to mean anything. They were both just really, really, enjoying the view.

If she told herself that, it made it easier to live with the fact it was never just that.

So the thought of their bags sitting side by side for a whole weekend was, well, a little terrifying, if she'd been honest, ‘cause this wasn’t part of the game. It’s like they were driving, Thelma and Louise style, towards something else. Entering a third space, not home, or work, but neutral, untested ground, an unknown territory with less rules, no witnesses. The domesticity of it all wasn't lost on her, either. The thought of getting to see Barbara Howard in the wild, outside of her natural habitat, in her pyjamas and no make-up, comfortably away from the pressure of public view… the thought that she was being trusted with that came with its whole, additional, set of baggage that felt so fucking heavy. Like she was being offered something just to see if she'd take it. Of course she would. Every time.

They somehow survived that first day, knee-to-knee at the crowded panels and hand-in-arm in the busy hallways, swapping notes and sharing overpriced concessions at another, foreign, table, orbiting each other like they were somehow still the most interesting people in any room they were in. The baggage was up in their (shared) bedroom, though, and she could feel it hanging over them like a promise or a threat.

By the time they made it back to the room though, after so many hours of travelling and sitting and standing and queueing, she was that dog-tired and sore from her stupid (but hot) outfit that all she wanted to do was collapse and not think at all. Definitely not think.

Melissa peeled off her jacket and flung it on the floor before collapsing in an undignified heap face down on her bed. She wiggled her boots off with some difficulty and kicked them across the room with two loud thunks that would definitely piss off the people in the room below. Ha ha.

"Uggghhhh. Do we really gotta go back out?" she mumbled into the pillow. Her whole body ached. She wanted a hot shower and pizza and wine and clean, white sheets. Well, she didn't know how clean these hotel sheets were, probably better not to think about that. But they were white enough. Better than having to get up.

She peered at Barbara with one eye in the low lamp light; Barbara, who was in the process of neatly removing her blazer and placing it on one of those weird, non-removable hangers in the open closet. Her posture was rigid and upright, looking as fresh-faced and unbothered as she'd ever seen her, like they hadn't just spent the same 10 hours together that had left Mel feelin' like she'd been hit by a semi and probably lookin' like it too. Her ass looked absolutely ridiculous in that skirt, too. What a bitch. So unfair.

"Do you really feel that bad?" Barb turned to look at her, looking all concerned, hands hovering in the air as if ready to fix her. Cute.

"Ehhhhh. I'll live. Little sore." Her ankles throbbed like punctuation. Who the fuck invented heels? An ass man, that's who. Not someone who had to wear 'em all day.

Barbara shook her head at her, tutting, returning to the closet. She knew better than to expect Melissa to be honest about her discomfort.

"Well, technically, no. We don't have to go. It would be nice to go for drinks, though. It's been a long day." She looked at her over her shoulder briefly, smile bright as the sun, looking like it hadn't been a long day at all. "You don't have to come though, if you're too tired." She smoothed down the sleeves of the white blouse she'd worn all day, a little rumpled but still professional, tucked into her purple vest. "But I'd like you to."

Aw, nuts. 

Guess she was going for drinks, then.

What a sucker.

Mel grumbled again, louder this time, kicking her bare feet for dramatic effect and smooshing her nose back into the pillow. 

Barbara clucked at her fondly. "Stop it." 

"Ugh. Fiiiine." She rubbed her tired eyes, and a little eyeliner smudged off on her hand. "Ah, shit. Hey Barb, do I need to put my face back on before we go out, or can I get away with it?"

"Hmm. Let me see." 

Melissa swung her feet off the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, self consciously pulling her own dark shirt over her belly. Bottle blonde hair curtained her face in messy strands, which she puffed at to blow away but it didn't do much.

Barb hummed, her eyebrows furrowed a little, taking two steps over from her side of the small room and, with no preamble, no warning, gently pushed her hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear to take a closer look at her, fingers landing and making a home near the crest of her jawline.

Melissa's traitorous eyelids slipped closed of their own accord, whole face suddenly slack, her whole body slack. 

“Oh fuck.”

She’d said it, moaned it, before she could take it back. 

Even she could hear how thick with want it was, like shattered glass.

Like she'd been waiting for this.

(She had.)

The panic crested like a wave.

She needed to do something, make a joke, break the tension, apologise, but couldn't, was trapped in space, heart a hummingbird, pinned down in a museum case just by the light touch of Barbara's tender hand.

And Barbara, she didn't say a word, didn't make a sound, and that was somehow worse than pity or shame or disgust, gave her nothing to read into.

But the hand moved, now, in slow motion.

(or maybe Melissa was dying, stretching out her final moments as a last kindness. It felt like dying, or floating away.) 

Barbara's knuckles carved a smooth line from ear to chin and crooked it gently between her thumb and forefinger, cocking her chin up just-so. Her thumb was perilously, dangerously close to her mouth and felt white-hot. If she just parted her lips a little more, she could kiss the pad of her thumb, take it into her mouth.

She didn’t. Because that would be insane. But she thought it, as the tension held, in a loop.

She couldn’t help feeling like a prize, somehow, being displayed, admired, in the crook of her hand for much too long to be easily explained. Like this was an indulgence Barbara shouldn't be taking, being savoured. It did something to her. Something that pooled low in Melissa’s belly, lit her up like a roman candle.  

I asked her to check my make-up. She’s just looking at me. That's all.

Shaking, now, the hand left her chin, beat a matching path along her other cheek, pushing the hair off the other side of her face and over her crown, holding her there in her warm palm. Every hair on her body stood on end in a long shiver, crying out to be touched too. Her breathing was ragged, she knew she must hear it; she could hear Barbara’s, tense as a bow string, as it coasted across her lips in the dark.

"Lovely." Barb whispered into the silence of the room, like she hadn't meant to say it, just an exhale of a held breath, seeming to somehow fill the whole space with it, filling Melissa's ribs and cracking them open. 

It was soft, too soft, like she was being smoothed out. 

She could feel herself sinking into something that might burn them both alive.

This wasn’t a game anymore.

Beyond this point was a conscious choice.

They couldn’t.

Her ring shone in the dark.

“Please.”

“I know.” Her hand, a whisper, a spectre, against her lips, an apology, before falling away.

They couldn’t.

She suddenly felt all of the strain in her body and fell backwards onto the mattress, staring up at her, heavy lidded and her underwear undeniably very, very wet. She felt loose all over, like her marionette strings that held her up had been slashed. 

She could see a whole theatre of emotions playing on Barbara’s face, like she’d become fully unhinged, fighting an internal war that Melissa couldn’t see, eyes not really seeing. It hurt her, badly, to see her hurting this much. To have instigated it, poked the bruises.

“Do you want me to go?” A small voice. Must be hers, because Barbara looked like she might cry. 

“No.” Assertive, determined, immediate. “No, stay. I’m sorry.”

To respond Me, too felt like an admission of guilt, and she was undoubtedly to blame, pushing this whole thing between them too, too far, maybe impassively far, maybe broken beyond repair - but couldn’t burden it, right now, couldn’t take it, couldn’t bear if she’d ruined this, and the shock hit her, then, like cold water, all over, what she’d maybe done, played with fire too recklessly, with a woman with a husband, a man who loved her, let herself get too close, took too much, got greedy. She breathed, but didn’t, not reaching all the places it should, her heart hammering to compensate, curling into herself, the mattress, the floor, the earth.

“Hey, Melissa. Hey. Look at me.” Far off, away. “Melissa, you’re ok, it’s ok. I’m here. I’m…”  a hand, careful, on her arm, not tight, just there: “I’m still here. I’m here. Breathe.”

She tried, she breathed, she counted, she looked at her, her dark eyes almost feral with concern, it pulled her in and out at the same time, slowed the scrambling, eventually, caught her breath, eventually, faded back into the sheets again, hollowed out.

The hand stayed there, a warm weight.

She shifted back into her own body again.

It wasn’t tension that was killing her anymore, it was the silence.

It held all the potential for Barbara to care, to pity having seen what she just saw.

She couldn't take that, right now. Didn't deserve it.

“Do you still wanna go out?”

She punctured it.

Barbara barked out a laugh that sounded like it had been locked away for a thousand years. It rang through Melissa’s body like church bells. 

“I could use a drink.”

“Me too.” She sighed, feeling fully deflated. Somehow, the floor between them felt more even again.

“Room service?”

“Did you win the lottery?”

Barbara just looked at her, where she laid curled up on the bed, for a moment too long, like she almost said, kind of. Then sighed, stretching a smile across her face that was just a little too wide. Melissa knew a mask when she saw one.

“We’ll figure it out.”

They just wouldn't talk about it.

[smokinsid]

Late Night People

Summer. 2:15 AM. College of Synergetics, Level 3 – REAPER Lab, Rata Sum.

Enid looked wearily at a crumpled pack of cigarettes, then back at her holo-screen. On her desk, a little girl in a big red hat grinned up at her tired face, looking as bright and proud as the midday sun.

For a few weeks now, her research had been chasing its tail. Relative Extraplanar studies- thrill that they were, giving a scientist cause to go sliding orthogonal to the three-dimensional Tyria into realms unknown- were still a headache, at their core. Was a mortal body meant to move that way, or see those things?

“Yes!” Came a low, sonorous showman’s voice from across the room. The attuned crystal in her radio blinked and pulsed in time with every syllable. “And I’ll tell you what else, my friends- if Balthazar can bite the dust, if Kralkatorrik can kick it- then what is there out there for us to worry about? The Arcane Council keeping secrets, hiding things from us? Well, we know why they do that- the slow dissemination of what they really know is what’s keeping them in their seats, after all.”

Smoke Signals with Sidney Figleaf. Venlin Vale Radio, 103.3 K-R-U-E.

The call letters came to her mind automatically. And that voice- “Smokin’ Sid,” on the radio- was her brother.

They hadn’t talked in a while. Maybe she should call him. It had been a long time since the big blowup, after all- and Rucks had turned out alright so far. Still young enough to come back to college.

“Coming up in the next half-hour, we’ll have open lines here on Smoke Signals. Tune your crystals to 1.333.1033- again that’s 1.333.1033, for the Smoke Signals hotline. Call now and get queued up- the subject tonight? Strange lights in the sky! Stranger than usual, anyway. Have you seen them? Tell us all about it. --And now, a word from our sponsors.”

As a jingle played for Royal Kournan cigars, followed by an ad for Oozeley’s Sure-Fire Detergent, she drummed her fingers on the desk and frowned at the blue-gray little crystal in front of her, mounted in a ring of brass.

“Oozeley’s, Sure-Fire,

Made from the goo you trust,

Oozeley’s, Sure-Fire,

For stains, it is a must!”

It was now or never. She grabbed the little brass ring and rotated the pointed crystal within, spinning it like a dial toward the numbers etched into the metal edge. In seconds she was connected, and a pleasant, modulated golem’s voice greeted her.

“You’ve reached the 103.3, K-R-U-E, call-in hotline! Your queue position is currently... SIX. Please hold. Your call will be on the air shortly. Remember to shut down your radio receiver before speaking, to eliminate static and echo. Thank you for calling Venlin Vale Radio.”

Soft jazz rose from the vibrating surface of the crystal, tickling her ear. She set it down on the table and huffed.

She had plenty of time to hang up if she wanted.

“Subject is mysterious lights in the sky- mysteriouser than usual, I should say. Caller number two, you’re on the air.”

Oh, Alchemy. He’s just picking lines at random.

“Am I on the air with Smokin’ Sid?”

“Yes, that’s me. Please turn off your radio, sir, for the feedback. Now, what’s your name, and what do you have to report?”

“Uh, name’s Putt. Work outta Statics.”

“Ah, a fellow Statics, ahem, alum. Wonderful. And what did you see?”

“Well, this was a couple weeks ago, late one night in Brisban- we were listening to the show while we were on stakeout, watching the bandit gangs drift here and there.”

“Ah, sounds like you’re working a security detail. I’d ask you how things are going with the gangs, but let’s focus on the scene overhead.”

“Right, well- me and the fellas like to shoot skeet to kill time,”

“Careful friend, this is radio,”

“Y’know, like clay pigeons, we got some with glow-in-the-dark paint.”

“Ah.”

“And so I was up top of the watchtower, throwing ‘em here and there when I heard the word ‘pull,’ that kind of thing.”

“Putting some lights in the sky yourself, as it were.”

“Mm- so we’ve done a few rounds of this, and I throw another one, and Creidon- big fella, Lionguard, down at ground level, he puts a crossbow bolt through it, sure as sunrise.”

“But...?”

“It got stuck, Sid.”

“In the... clay pigeon?”

“No- well, not as such. It’s like, it punched through the pigeon and hit something else. Something round. Like... shoot, I’m gonna sound crazy.”

“Not on my show, friend.”

“Like a bubble, in the sky. Like someone got a straw under the sky and blew real hard and just... warped it out. The stars looked all stretched and distorted close to the pigeon, got more normal the further out you went.”

“As if the sky itself was... closer, there?”

“Yeah! Damnedest thing I ever saw! Bowed in like the ceiling on a first-floor dorm when the toilet upstairs overflows.”

“Remarkable.”

“The pigeon- and the bolt- just clung to it. And then it sorta... deflated? Just slowly receding until the sky looked normal again. It took both with it! We never got ‘em back.”

“Wow. Not quite what I expected to hear when it comes to lights in the sky, but that certainly is mysterious. Thank you, Putt- the Smoke Signals Research Team will put some time into this one, I’m sure.”

Enid had already taken a few steps away from the crystal, drawing up astronomical charts of the sky over Brisban and running numerous calculations and simulations. A ‘bubble’ in the sky could be any number of things- in her mind, it was some burdensome patch of mist, pushing on the fabric of Tyria. A mistquake? A mist… sinkhole?

“Caller number… six! You’re live on Smoke Signals. Go ahead and turn off your radio, feedback and all that. I need a name, and- what did you see in the sky, lately?”

“…Could’ve been the movement of a human god, they make quite a dent- haven’t heard from Melandru in a minute, have they?”

“Caller number six? Are you there? –Do turn off your radio, please and thank you, for the feedback, then start with a name.”

“Of course, if it isn’t the movement of a god… can we rule out dragons now? Are they done?” She poked at the holo-screen and flipped through archive files.

“…Enid?”

Enid let out a horrible gasp and slapped her radio, then spun away from the screen and rounded on the crystal.

“—Am I on the air? Shoot, I missed it!”

“No, no, you didn’t miss it. Bit of a rocky start, but I’m feeling generous tonight. Now, ah… name, as I said, and, what exactly did you see?”

“Oh, I’m… Enid. I work here on the third level of Synergetics, and…”

“Enid! I knew it was you! Distinguished listeners, we’re hearing live, the voice of my dear sister. It’s been ages. I’m surprised to hear you saw something ‘weird,’ Nid- you always had a pretty high bar.”

In his smoky studio, Sid was secretly reeling. He leaned away from the microphone and pat a box of Shadhavar Wides against his palm to pack them, then fumbled for a little silver lighter. The etching of a bikini-clad human winked up at him as he struck the wheel and took a long, steadying drag.

“Well… hm. What your first caller said caught my attention, so I was in the middle of researching that.

“The- the Brisban case, with Putt? You jumped on it that quick?”

“While I was on hold.”

“Wow. But, ah… do you have your own sighting to report? Something for the audience to chew on?”

Enid tapped her bottom lip and huffed.

“Well, I don’t want anyone to think too much of this, but I have seen something. About three weeks ago. I was up north- in Grothmar, the Charr territory?”

“Beautiful weather up there. Even the storms are nice.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I was studying post-Kralkatorrik brand radiation- the corruption is persistent, you see, and when you have a steady source like a dragon, that’s to be expected. Without it, the flow should ebb and the radiation should begin to decay. But I think that due to the crystalline structure of the corrupted materials, the magic is finding these facets to bounce around on, conserving angular momentum and-“

“Nid, I love ya, but this is dead air. Lights? Sky? We getting there?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Right. Sid and Sid’s audience. Lowest common denominator.

“It was a symmetrical cymatic response- that is to say, we used our instruments to mess with the cluster of corrupted material on the ground, and were able to have a second team in the mists check their location with identical instruments. We’d make a tone, they’d detect a tone.”

“More of a sound in the sky, but I’m with ya so far. So this krewe, on the other side of the veil, so to speak, they could hear the sound you were making, and… what?”

“Well, that’s the revolutionary thing, Sid. It’s the first time we’ve been able to accurately, linearly map the coordinates of a location in the mists, as it relates to a location in Tyria! By measuring the offset between the two, we were able to calculate that the mists themselves are at an orthogonal angle to standard Tyria- our North is their West!”

“…Fascinating. And the implications are… staggering, I’m sure.”

Her expression flattened and she ran a hand across her face. Lights. In the sky. Right. Let’s get to that before he moves on.

“So this relates to Putt’s bubble, you see. The fact that it welled up at all, how it moved, where it came from- to your listeners’ great satisfaction, we did see lights in the sky that we couldn’t explain. Not a bubble, no- but I theorize we saw the shear between Tyria and the mists. Sending such a direct signal from one to the other had an effect on the boundary between realms… and somebody, we speculate, didn’t appreciate that.”

“Oh. Oh! Hey, that’s juicy, you should have started with that! No flair for the dramatic, this one. So let’s get into that, specifically- what did you see, that gave ya cause to speculate that?”

“At first we thought that we’d kicked up a storm. Cloud-to-cloud lightning, and lots of it. But… I hate to hand it to the humans, especially after the Balthazar thing, but they might be onto something with some of their gods.”

“You saw one?”

“We saw a hand. Specifically, the underside of one. Curling fingers, drawing across the realm-shear, constructed out of lightning. It was vague at first, but as the digits moved, there was no mistaking it.”

“Wild stuff, sis. I wanna take a shot in the dark here, because I know you- I know there’s more at play here than just you seeing something. Did your krewe in the mists see something too?”

“That’s the kicker. They saw the other side of the hand. They thought they were having tech issues, an overloaded crystal somewhere, until screens started blowing out and lightning started leaping everywhere. Had to evacuate their work camp while huge knuckles made of static discharge just sort of… raked through their whole shop, destroying anything they couldn’t carry out. Made a circular motion, seemed to… stir up the mists? Maybe… froth them back up, after we’d thinned them out?”

“Holy crap. Now that’s the kind of mystery I’m talkin’ about! The nature of the human gods, or whatever they are! Why would it do that? Does this mean that gods are making other lights in the sky? Did a god blow Putt’s bubble? We gotta get some humans on the line- they got experts, right? Like, uh… religious… scholars?”

“Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron?”

“Nid, be nice. We take all kinds here on Smoke Signals. –Speaking of which, our next caller’s been on the line quite some time, waiting for their chance. Boy, but this was a doozy. I’m gonna run a golem down to your lab with my personal number. Maybe the Smoke Signals research team can lend a hand with this, huh? –‘Til next time, though, goodnight!”

“…Yeah, see ya around, Sid.”

“Thank you for calling 103.3, K-R-U-E, Venlin Vale Radio!” A familiar automated voice chimed.  “You have been disconnected! Please wait five minutes before placing another call!”

And then the line went quiet, the crystal dark.

She turned on her radio and returned to the holo-screen.

“—aller number one, you’ve been awfully patient, you must have something reeeeeeally important to share! Turn off your radio and give us your name, if you please.”

As the next caller regaled Sid with tales of a “boat” they saw in the sky as they were hiking in Dzalana, Enid immediately tuned out.

Sid… she really didn’t have any reason to want his respect. In fact, he should be treating a professor of her caliber with a little more deference, when you really looked at the situation from the outside in. But here he was, regionally-famous radio host, urging her to get to the ‘good parts’ of her research and shooing her off the air when he thought she’d said enough.

Why did that cut so deep? As nice as it was to talk, it was painfully one-sided.

She knew he had a good mind. An inquisitive and dutiful mind. He’d volunteered to serve in Orr, after all, and was instrumental in reporting troop movements back to Claw Island over secured channels and providing music to those same troops over unsecured channels, using just deft hands and a junky set of equipment he’d cobbled together.

She was finishing her first doctorate at the time, too young for the Priory to deploy her- and too young for the College of Synergetics to let go of her, besides. When the news came back, she really thought of her older brother as a hero. Silly old Sid, a war reporter.

But maybe he was just a nicotine-stained, slimy, self-serving, cabbage-fucking-

She took a deep breath and shook her head. He had given her a lot of airtime to tell a complicated story, and he was sending along a means to talk privately, finally!

But it was the ‘he had given’ part she took painful umbrage with. How is it that he’s always in charge of these things? Effortlessly, as if it’s his right? There was a real mystery. Lights in the sky are easy to explain compared to that.

She continued to grumble as she prodded at the screen. As the pink holographic text started to blur, she looked away and found herself staring at the framed photo of her daughter, grinning up at her with gap teeth and bright eyes.

“He’s repulsive. Rucks, how did he ever get in your head? If you had focused on your studies, you’d be here in the city with me, instead of…”

She couldn’t remember the name. Some backward human fishing village across the sea.

Enid pulled open a drawer and retrieved a bag of hard candy. It was right next to her cigarettes- Skrittmann’s Menthol Silver Slim 120s. She frowned at the half-full softpack and shut the drawer, then popped a thumb-sized cylinder of blue raspberry into her cheek.

The clock struck 3:00 am, and there was a knock at the door.

“It’s open,” she called out. The interlocking hatch doors slid apart, and a golem stumped into the room, carrying a teal holopad in one hand and a book in the other. She met it halfway and it held its hands up in an oddly childlike fashion, offering both at once.

“This must be the private number, and… what’s this, now?”

She took the book and frowned at the cover, reading aloud in a flat, irritated voice:

“Up In Smoke – One Asura’s Journey from Lowlife to High Life, and How You Can Too.”

Alchemy fucking preserve me, it’s signed.

She scowled at the silver paint-pen signature across the dustcover, and flipped to the first page.

To Spokes- it takes balls the size of honeydews to ride a ten-speed through Malchor’s Leap, and you did it every day. I might have quit radio altogether if you hadn’t brought me those letters from Camp Narthex.

“DEDICATION

To the 113th Ground Artillery Regiment- you guys were a real peach to bivouac with. Sorry about the latrine. You’re welcome for the case of Gorepelt Supreme I found- didn’t take us long to get through those bottles, did it?

To Professor Qlatt, Statics Earthworks Division- sorry I kept putting stuff in my nose, man. I got an attention span you could fit in a teaspoon with room to spare, and you sure were patient. I ain’t coming back, but if you want that homework I owe ya, I eventually filled it out.

To Ma & Pa- I just hope you’re glad I figured out something to do.

And to my sister, Enid. You don’t just make them proud, you make me proud, too. It’s a big ask, but keep achieving for the both of us. When I say you’re Council material, it’s the only time in my life I’ve ever not meant it as an insult.”

Enid swallowed, frowned, and pat the golem on the head, sending it clunking off back into the hall.

“Guess I’ll call him,” she exhaled through her teeth.

“Just… maybe tomorrow.”

She set the book face-down on her workbench and took another deep breath, then turned her eyes back up to the screen.

She’d never admit it, but they both wanted the answer to the same question.

Just what is going on up there, anyway?

[twothpaste]

Sorry if this sounds a bit dumb, but what is Claus’s relationship with Porky in your Intermission AU? How do they view each other and how did they stand and how are they currently standing with each other. I read that part of the fic where Porky goes to Ness and Paula’s apartment and made a scene there and it feels like that’s where Claus is done with him and their. “Friendship”

Aw, man, these two are an absolute trainwreck! Claus n' Porky's relationship was one of the things that sparked the whole AU, truth be told. This premise of taking fantastical events from the games, and translating them into grounded experiences young people often go through irl... What if instead of Porky converting Claus into a brainwashed cyborg supersoldier, the whole thing was literally just an abusive friendship? That's basically the first fic in a nutshell. The more I wrote and thought about it though, the more intricate and sad and harrowing it got. I have so much rattling around in my head about these two, and it's been oozing out of my ears like Cheez Whiz for a year and a half 🫠. I'll put the charcuterie board below the cut:

Intermission Claus and Porky have a lot more in common than you'd expect (I think this is true in canon, too, but that's a whole other post). They were both outta place college freshmen, masking their insecurities with overconfident edgelord personas. They shared a lot of the same interests (video games, Reddit, misinterpreting messages about toxic masculinity in Berserk and Fight Club). They've got a lot of similar baggage, worst of all. Broken families, woes over their emotionally unavailable fathers, mental health problems that sometimes alienate them from their loved ones… Porky appealed to Claus' broken ego, making this guilt-ridden once-neglected kid feel exclusively cool and smart and valued. Porky, an always-neglected kid (with no fucking friends), absolutely relished Claus' earnest company and undivided attention. You'd almost think it could've been good for them. Havin' a mutual confidant to vent their frustrations to, bonding through genuine solidarity. But since Porky is Porky, he doesn't know how to maintain friendships without being a possessive megalomaniac about it. And since Claus is naive and impressionable by nature, he fell for it hook line n' sinker.

He coaxed Claus away from his other friends. Gradually got this dude parroting his vernacular and his bullheaded attitude. Which, of course, made Ness n' pals less willing to put up with Claus. "You're practically my double," Porky might've joked. N' Claus wouldda laughed it up, mistaking it for praise. Porky takes advantage of Claus' emotional volatility. He can rile him up into tirades, or flip him into horrific dissociative states, at a moment's notice. Instead of cybernetic mind-control, it's all the weird ways abusers isolate victims, and re-wire their personality and behavior. Most abusers don't exactly do this stuff consciously - and it's obviously just as unacceptable whether it's conscious or not - but I kinda wanna leave Porky's manipulation up to reader interpretation. Is he delicately pulling strings like a puppetmaster, here? Does he think that's what he's doing? Or is he blindly channeling his parents' behavior, since it's all he's ever known? Maybe all of the above…

There's all these miserable layers to it, like?? How Porky's vendetta against Ness provoked the whole thing. (He drove his first and last best friend away in middle school, never got over it, and now is out to spite him by hoarding their lovable fun upstanding mutual college acquaintance.) How Claus is still frantically trying to emulate his father's masculinity at this stage, and how that's leading him down a dangerous path with Porky. (Trying his very best to forgive a now-reformed Flint for 3 years of griefstricken alcoholic absence - while Porky throws a wrench in his efforts, stoking his righteous anger to keep him bitter and isolated.) How Porky emulates Aloysius almost inevitably, despite hating his father's guts, 'cause after torching his friendship with Ness he was left with no other role models. How Claus yearns for acceptance and approval, and gets this twisted version of it from a guy who treats him like an action figure. How Porky's secretly vehemently jealous of Claus' tight bond with Lucas - 'cause he himself has been self-sabotaging his relationship with Picky for years. How Claus put up with being taken advantage of and dehumanized, 'cause his self esteem is so terrible - but the last straw for him was seeing Porky treat Picky like shit. 'Cause he'd never in a million years even dream of treating Lucas like that. Forgive me if it's a lot, but every bit of it makes me feel like [this].

In the aftermath of it all, I think Porky does realize (deep, deep, deep down) he's ruined what couldda been a really positive friendship for the both of 'em. And he does feel deliriously guilty about it. But he never admits fault. Just blames Ness n' Lucas n' Paula, resigns to hate Claus forevermore, and stews about it endlessly. Even though he knows all it's accomplishing is making him more lonesome and miserable. His Peter-Pan-esque immortal childhood, in Intermission AU, is deconstructed into this sad sick shell of a guy who simply refuses to grow up. (Or confront his guilt, or mature as a person, or apologize to anyone, etc etc…) And his "Absolutely Safe Capsule" is really is just his self-inflicted friendlessness. Maybe he resigns himself to it. If he doesn't have any friends, no one can "betray" him anymore. And he won't have to hurt like this ever again 🥲

Claus, on the other hand, walks away with this erratic mix of anger and pity towards Porky. Which often turns inward - blaming himself for getting so sucked into it, for bein' such a d-bag to his own friends & brother under Porky's influence. Graciously now he's got several absolute real ones he can talk to about it. He ultimately ends up pinning most of the blame on Aloysius (who kinda lives rent free in his head, even though they only met once). But regardless, he can barely stand to think much about Porky. Much less to be in a room with him. Which is a shame, considering they've got at least 2 more years at the same college. I might do more with 'em in the future.

If anyone's interested in these two - aside from Intermission (the fic) (the first one), there's more Claus n' Porky woes in Hunker. Especially [Chapter 20] (which can be read as a oneshot 😉🤐).

[beanzfandoms]

Your Love is a Bad Medicine

Dean Winchester x Sister! reader

Song: Bad Medicine - Bon Jovi

Warning: Separation anxiety

Description: Dean and his little sister are on their way to get Sam from college.  Dean has to go somewhere, and the youngest Winchester is left in the room by herself. Her anxiety begins to act up while she waits for her brother to come back.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

          (Y/n) tapped her foot anxiously against the dirty red carpet of the motel room. She sat in the green chair by the window, glancing through the blinds, into the parking lot.

         The sun had gone down a while ago so the only illumination she had were the few door lights that actually worked. (Y/n) bit into her bottom lip, gnawing at the bruised skin as her anxiety peaked a bit more. The small box TV sitting on the dresser played in the background. Static flickered every now and again due to the bad quality of the motel. The young girl turned it on to distract herself from the road but the worry for her brother grew and grew over the night.

         Dean had left hours before sunset and had not come back since. She knew he could handle himself but the worry that something bad could happen inundated through her mind, nonetheless. Slipping her fingers through to push the blinds open, she felt tears forming in her eyes when she still didn’t see the Impala turning into the motel.

         (Y/n)’s throat began to clog up as she tried to stop from letting out a cry. She then glanced at her phone that was charging on the bed. Almost too quickly, she threw herself across and pulled the cell harshly off the plug. She instantly went into her contacts, her shaking finger hovering over Dean’s name. She pressed down, listening to the repeating ring coming from the phone.

         However, the instant feeling of guilt spread through her. (Y/n) immediately went back to the home screen and sighed. She wouldn’t want to bother him because of her worries, especially if he was working. A few stray tears dropped, and she lies her head back on the flat pillows.

         “Maybe listening to music will help,” the girl whimpered, turning the screen on and pressing the downloads she had. A smile reached her quivering lips as she saw the name of a song her and Dean like to sing together. She began to softly play it on her phone speaker. The beginning music resonated, causing her smile to widen.

 Your love is like a bad medicine

 Bad medicine is what I need

 Whoa oh oh

 Shake it up like a bad medicine

 There ain’t no doctor that can cure my disease

           (Y/n) turns it up as old memories began to resurface. She lifts herself, resting her elbows on the top of her knees. Leaving her phone in her lap, she reposed her head and closes her eyes, humming softly to the music.

 I ain’t got a fever, got a permanent disease

 And it’ll take more than a doctor to prescribe a remedy

 I got lots of money but it isn’t what I need

 Gonna take more than a shot to get this poison outta me

 And I got all the symptoms, count ‘em, one, two, three

          Suddenly, the door opens with an obnoxious voice singing along with the chorus. “Your love is like a bad medicine! Bad medicine is what I need!”

          (Y/n) jumps from her spot and instantly turns off the song that was playing. Her eyes were wide with fright and her fingers twitched at her side.

         Dean stood in front of the door, a few bags in hand. His brows furrow with confusion as he notices his little sister’s current state. He places the bags on the table that was beside the dresser, turning to (Y/n) with new concern. “What’s wrong, ankle-bitter?”

          “N-nothing! I just wasn’t expecting you to barge through like that,” (Y/n) replies, mentally cursing for her nervous habits.

         Dean gave his famous smirk, pulling his jacket off his shoulders. “Well, I thought you would be asleep until I heard music blaring. I guess we were both surprised.”

         “Y-yeah.” (Y/n) simply replies as she got up on the bed again and watched Dean go into the bathroom to change.

         After a few minutes, he comes out, plopping himself on the bed. “So, what have you been up to?” Dean asks, leaning himself on the headboard.

         “Not much...” (Y/n) mumbled out with a shrug.

         “(Y/n), is everything alright?” Another shrug was all he got. “Look at me.”

          She felt stupid. He was right here but she felt tears swarming again. Why was she so scared?

         “It’s nothing,” she said after a few breaths to calm herself.

         “Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Dean grumbles. He straightens himself to a sitting position, all humor gone from his eyes. “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind-- is it about Dad?”

         “No! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about his safety but that’s not it.” (Y/n) replied quickly.

         “So, something is bothering you?”

         The youngest Winchester sighs with irritation. She hates it when Dean does this. He knows just what to say and he will press on until she confesses.

        “I was worried about you, that’s all.”

         “Why? I was only out for a couple of hours,” Dean questions.

         “I-I know... doesn’t mean something bad couldn’t happen within those nine hours,” (Y/n) mutters in embarrassment.

         “You were counting time... is that why you called? I was going to answer but you hung up before I could.”  

         “Sorry.”

         “Don’t be sorry. You get nervous, I get it,” Dean trivializes, “but hey, we’re both here.”

         “Yeah,” (Y/n) agreed, smiling slightly at him.

         “Get some sleep. We gotta a good drive tomorrow,” Dean said, smiling in return.

         (Y/n) nodded, situating herself to a laying position on the bed. She felt Dean shift too, resting on his back. “Hey Dean...” she asks, while closing her eyes.

         “Yeah?”

         “Do you think Sam will be glad to see us?”

         “I don’t know... I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Sleeping would help pass the time.”

         “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”

         “Night (Y/n).”

    Your love is like a bad Medicine

 Bad medicine is what I need

 Whoa oh oh

 Shake it up like a bad medicine

 You got the potion that can cure my disease

[shadowsndaisies]

codename: nightingale - insecurity

Reference: Young Justice Season 1 Episode 23

WC: 8.6k

synopsis: ng has issues with december, robin is mia so wally steps up. roy is a snarky shit, and tests even ng’s patience. meanwhile oliver and kaldur take turns mother henning our favorite birb. ps: all artemis needs is a little confidence and some tlc

main masterlist

codename: nightingale series masterlist

a/n: this chapter does get a bit heavier due to some of NG's history. There's brief talk about how she became an orphan spread through the chapter, so if that's something activating; be advised. that being said we get a lot quality bff wally west in this update

STAR CITY

December 4th, 12:35 EST

“I can’t believe you actually told them no,” Roy huffed, opening the door to Lenetti’s for you. 

“Roy,” you said his name with a long-suffering sigh. He’d been haggling this point hard since Thanksgiving. 

“The Justice League wants to indoctrinate you, making you the youngest member ever, and you said no,” he practically hissed as you skipped past the front and beelined for your usual booth.

“I’m not the youngest; Billy’s in the League,” you shoot back. It was true; Shazam was actually Billy Batson, a 10-year-old kid.

“He doesn’t count. He turns into an adult,” Roy dismisses.

“Seems like a grey area,” you hum as you wave at Mrs. Lenetti, who had smiled as she spotted you and Roy settle in. 

“You’re an idiot,” Roy decides as he slumps in his booth. 

“Roy Harper, you know better than to call her names. How many times has this sweet girl pulled your ass outta trouble?” Mrs. Lenitti scolds as she approaches, having caught his last statement. 

Roy scowls a bit, and you can’t hide the prideful smirk on your lips.

“It’s okay, Mrs. L. Roy just doesn’t understand a decision I made recently,” you cover as Roy rolls his eyes. 

“Well, if it’s something she’s serious about, honey, maybe it’s worth it to trust her gut. I don’t believe it’s led either of you wrong yet,” Mrs. L says sagely, gaining a softened look from Roy. “I’ll send your lunch orders in, same as usual?”

“Yes, please,” you smile brightly, and Mrs. L pats your cheek gently as she nods in affirmation. 

“I’ll have the new girl bring you some water,” she adds from over her shoulder as she walks back toward the kitchen. 

Your eyes catch on a blonde girl who must be in high school, watching as she nervously read the number on the ticket and then counted the tables under her breath. 

“I can’t do it,” you finally say, voice low and soft, and it seems to snap Roy out of his brooding.

“What?”

“I can’t be 14-year-old (Y/n) Roxo and be a part of the league. When I’m older, obviously I want to do it, but I don’t think I’m ready for it just yet,” you explain.

“But it’s the League,” Roy’s voice had dropped to a softer tone as well. You could see him mulling over your words as he thought them through. 

“The League wants the Sonic Sidekick, not soon to be a freshman in high school (Y/n),” you lament. 

“I can’t believe you’re about to start high school,” Roy huffed. 

“Makes a lot of sense when you look at it that way, doesn’t it?” you tease.

“Maybe,” he scoffs, dropping your gaze to fiddle with his napkin.

“Okay, Mr. High School Graduate,” you shoot back, and Roy offers a playful smirk. 

“High percentile, too,” he winked. 

“And yet you broke all our hearts when you decided college wasn’t for you,” you snort. 

“According to Dinah and Ollie, I’m taking a gap year,” he shot back with a warning glare.

“Which is bullshit,” you scoffed out, knowing that Roy had no intention of actually going to college at the end of his gap year, despite how he sold the point to Dinah and Oliver.

“Language,” Roy teases, with a very Dinah-esque tone, as the new girl brings your drinks to the table. Once she walked away, he sobered up a little, and you knew what topic was coming before he opened his mouth. “The 6th is a few days away,” he says cautiously. 

“Yeah, it is,” you nod, finding your glass of water way more interesting. 

“Birdy,” Roy’s voice is gentle as he broaches the topic. 

Your lips curl into a very flat frown, “It’s been eight years… what do you want me to say?” you huff. 

“Dinah planning to distract you all day again?” he asks, and based on his tone, you know he’s trying to make it more light-hearted. 

“I hope not. It worked well the first few years, but there’s only so much you can do to distract from the day a girl watched her parents get killed in front of her,” you lament, your tone flat. 

“She means well,” Roy argues, showing a rare level of fierce protection for your shared pseudo-mom.

“I know,” you huff. “Look, I’ll probably stop by the cemetery and talk to them for a bit, but I don’t have a lot of plans. I’m stopping by the cave tomorrow, but Red, D, and Bats know unless the world is ending, I won’t be around on the 6th. I might go to Gotham for a bit, I dunno….”

“I know I’m not always the most reachable, but for the 6th, anything you need, I’ll get it for you, I promise,” Roy said seriously. 

“Alright, that’s enough emoting. Let’s move on,” you scoff. 

“Says the empath,” Roy smirks. 

“I mean this with the most disrespect, fuck off,” you huff flipping him off.

“Oh! Party fowl, Dinah would not approve,” Roy tutted. 

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile slipped through, and soon enough, the conversation was moving away from darker themes.

GOTHAM CITY

December 5th, 16:30 EST

“You know coming to Gotham at night is not exactly what I had in plan,” you drawl as you join Artemis on a fire escape a block away from the Zeta Point. 

“Thanks for coming,” she said softly, and you frowned at the obviously downtrodden tone in her voice. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, sitting down next to her and letting your legs hang. 

You watch her wrestle with whatever she wants to say for a minute. You can feel the conflicted feelings rolling off her, and with the limited space and how your legs are touching, you’re getting clear markers for anger, humiliation, frustration, and pride. So you wait. You give her time to think it through and phrase what she wants to say. Instead, you let your eyes wander on the horizon of Gotham, tracing over buildings and city lights that seem to shine through the smog.

“That first mission we all went on, you told me you knew I wasn’t GA’s niece, but you said you’d be here as a teammate, a friend, whenever I needed,” she began.

“I did, I am,” you assure her.

“Did GA tell you when he took me on?” she asked, voice cracking slightly.

Your lips tighten, “No,” you say the word slowly. 

“He tell you anything after?” she followed. 

You look down at the alleyway below you, “he did not.”

Artemis’ lips pull into a frown, “I was a pity case,” she frowns. 

“What are you talking about?” eyebrows pulling down as you turn to her.

“My mom begged GA and Bats to take me on, to keep me in check. They showed up after I saved you guys against Amazo,” she explains, and for the first time since you met her, you’re finally learning the truth. 

“That might be on me,” you smirk. “Rob, and KF, they got excited, thought Speedy was watching out for us, but I’ve spent half my life training with Speedy. I know what his arrows look like. I mentioned it to Ollie later that night because they sure as hell weren’t his arrows either.”

“They only took me in because my mom begged, NG, she begged,” Artemis scoffed. 

“Maybe, but that’s not why they brought you to the mountain,” you say. “GA’s got a bit of a bleeding heart, no doubt, but Batman? He brought you to the team, he gave you a chance to be one of us, and you are, by the way. Begging or not, they brought you to the mountain because they saw something in you that means you’re like us. The boys and I started this team because we wanted to prove that we could do more than be sidekicks. Maybe your mom begged, but you’re on the team because GA and Batman think you can be more than a sidekick, that you can be every bit the hero you aspire to be.”

Artemis goes quiet as she takes in what you’ve said, and after a few minutes, you decide to change the topic, “how was patrol last night?” you ask. 

Her face lights up in a second, “GA got knocked down! Black Spider was trying to get to this dad, and we swooped in! But Ollie got knocked down, flat on his ass. He tried to play it off, even let me take the lead, but you know him,” she smiled. 

“I do,” you smiled back. “Ha! I can’t believe he got knocked on his ass. He’s never gonna live it down,” you cackle. “I wonder if we can find any security footage?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“None that he’d let us keep,” she laughs, shaking her head.

“You’re probably right,” you muse, turning to lean against the rail and face the blond. “We should probably get going. We’re supposed to be at the mountain at 5,” you hum softly after some silence. 

“Yeah,” she nods, sniffing and standing up. 

You follow, and then you both are repelling back to the ground. You walk to the zeta point but stop and grab Artemis by the arm before you walk in. “Maybe you weren’t brought in because you impressed them. But you just spent the last four months doing nothing but,” you tell her seriously, and she stares at you with wide eyes. “You’ve got nothing to prove. You’re one of a kind,” you reassure her. 

She offers a hesitant nod and tries to move back to the Zeta point, but you keep your grip, “What?”

“Say it, Artemis,” you tell her. You catch as she rolls her eyes, but you know she needs it right now. You know she needs to say it just as much as she needs to hear it. “I’m serious. Say it.”

She heaves a heavy sigh but nods, “I've got nothing to prove. I'm one of a kind,” she says flatly. 

“Say it with meaning,” you press, a smirk quirking at the ends of your lips. 

“I’ve got nothing to prove,” she says thoughtfully. “I’m one of a kind,” she finished with a nod, and you can see how the words resonated with her. You can feel it cement a bit, reassuring her nerves from the grip you still had on her arm. 

Satisfied, you let her go, “Good, let’s go. We’re already late,” you nod before disappearing through the Zeta.

MOUNT JUSTICE

December 5th, 17:04 EST

“Recognized; Nightingale b-14,” the computer announced as you stepped through the Zeta. 

You freeze in place as you take in the group before you—the team, minus Robin, but also Red Tornado, Green Arrow, and most surprisingly, Roy.

“Roy?” your lips purse as you walk up to him. 

“Hey, Birdy,” he greets, coming up to you for a hug. 

“What are you doing here?” you whisper while he’s hugging you.

“Ollie’s idea,” Roy scoffs as he pulls back. 

“What idea?” you ask as the zeta powers up again behind you. 

“Recognized; Artemis b-07,” the computer announces.

“Artemis! Just in time, look who’s agreed to join the Team!” Ollie announced, and you felt the fracture in Artemis's armor, even without touching her.

“Finally!” Wally cheered. 

You frowned a bit at Roy and then at Ollie. You hadn’t realized this was one of the League's caveats on Roy’s admittance. 

“Sure, Team’s needed a real archer,” Artemis scoffs a bit under her breath, but you heard it. Your frown deepened a bit as you stared at the girl in green. You see Wally’s confused expression as he stares after her too. 

“Okay, people, listen up! Dynamic Duo’s on a case in Gotham, but Batman gave me a heads up. Sportsmaster was spotted coming through Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport,” Ollie explained, pulling up details on the holo-screen.

“In full costume?” Zatanna asked, “Nervy!”

Her quip teased a playful smile as you took in Ollie’s exasperated expression. “In street clothes,” he corrects. “Facial recognition software picked up the ID. Find out what he's up to.”

“All of us?” Conner asks, gesturing to the ever-growing group that was your team. “Seems like overkill for a shadow job.”

He’s not wrong; you think to yourself as you look around.

“Perhaps a small squad?” Tornado offers. “Miss Martian's camouflage abilities seem ideal.”

“Thought the sidekicks- Sorry, ex-sidekicks could suit up on this,” Ollie offers instead. “Nightingale, Aqualad, Kid Flash, Red Arrow.”

“Good,” Conner huffs, “stakeouts make me crazy.”

M’gann nods in concession, “We could use the night off.”

“I want in,” Artemis’ voice cuts in, and GA seems shocked, though you can’t place why. On the other hand, you had a pretty good idea of why she’s volunteering. “With M'gann and Robin out, no one's logged more hours piloting the bioship,” she tags on.

GA seems to hesitate, “Artemis, are you sure?”

You watch as she squares her shoulders, “Absolutely.”

You all broke away shortly after that to get ready. Before making your way to the landing, you did a quick inventory check. You watched Artemis as you went; she checked her quiver and bow. You catch on how Wally also seems to be tracking all of her moves. When he notices you watching him, a light blush coats his cheeks, and you can’t help but raise a brow. That is definitely a thread you’ll be pulling on later. He ducks his attention away, and you turn back to your gear, surprised to see Roy headed your way. 

“Red Arrow,” you tease. 

“Are you sure you want to go?” he asks, and your hands freeze.

“I’m sorry, what?” you ask, lips pulling down.

“I know you said you would take it easy today and then be off tomorrow. If you don’t want to go, we can come up with an excuse,” he offers. 

You frown at him, “I’m fine, Roy.”

“(Y/n)...” his voice drops low as he says your name.

“This’ll be good, alright?” you tell him. “It’s a chance to focus on something else, anything else… I want to go.”

“Okay,” he nods. 

You offer him a small smile, “okay.”

“Now, uh, would you tell Ollie please because he looks like he’s going to climb the walls,” he adds cautiously.

You scoff but pat Roy’s shoulder as you walk past him and over to where Ollie’s leaning against the wall, watching as everyone gears up. You lean against the wall beside him, close enough for your shoulders to touch. You feel him take a breath and release it, and the tension seems to relax as he feels you next to him.

“I know I singled you out for this, but sweet girl, you don’t have to go. Not with tomorrow being what it is,” he sighs.

You take a deep breath and lean a little more into Ollie, “I want to go. I need the distraction,” you admit.

“I worry about you, kiddo, you know that,” he sighs.

“I know, I appreciate it, I really do, but I want to do this, plus someone’s gotta make sure both Roy and Artemis come back without killing each other,” you muse.

“Yeah, not the biggest fans of each other, are they?” Oliver heaved.

“No, they are not, but I like her. She’s tough, but I can feel it; she’s got a good heart. Plus, she called me earlier, you know? Told me all about patrol last night,” you tease.

“And here I was hoping you’d never hear about it,” Ollie chuckled. 

“It’s okay to admit you’re getting a bit older, Ollie,” you laugh. “Your balance just isn’t what it used to be,” you tease.

“I’m not above telling Dinah your age shaming me,” he argues, and you offer him a genuine smile.

“I love you, Ollie, you know that, right?” you ask. Oliver finally tears his gaze from the rest of them to focus on you. The whites of his domino block his eyes, but you can feel the surprise sizzling through him. “I really hope you’re surprised because I actually said it and not because of what I said,” you add as you feel the emotion wash through.

“This empath thing is going to take some getting used to,” he huffs, nudging you a bit. “And it’s the first one. I know you do, sweet girl. I always have,” he promises. 

“I’ll be okay. I’ll have the boys. Kaldur and Roy know what tomorrow is,” you tell him. Looking over, you notice that the rest of your squad is lining up at the bioship, “it’s time,” you mutter. 

You bump shoulders with Ollie one more time before shoving off the wall, “Sweet girl,” he calls, stopping you for a moment. “You have my whole heart, Dinah’s too. We’re here for you, anything you need,” he promises.

He shocks you then, placing a kiss on your forehead, not the action itself, he’s done it more and more the closer you became, but the time and place were jarring.

“I know,” you nod one last time. 

Ollie offers you a nervous smile, and you leave him to grab your gear and march onto the Bioship. 

“Is something going on?” the rushed whisper surprises you as you turn to Wally with wide eyes. 

“What?”

“GA, and you, it’s just you’re normally not like that in the cave. Is something going on?” he asks, brow furrowed. 

You fight to keep your expression flat. Wally was way more observant than he’s given credit for, “Don’t worry about it, Wally,” you try to shrug off, though you see his unconvinced look. “Seriously, I’m okay,” you pair with a soft smile.

You can tell he doesn’t entirely believe you, but he does drop the topic long enough for you to load up and leave the Mountain. Soon enough, you’re all in the air, and Kaldur makes his way over. “I have a feeling that your tete-a-tete with Green Arrow has to do with the significance of tomorrow’s anniversary,” he says carefully. 

You heave a heavy sigh, “So everyone is making the rounds today, huh?” you huff. 

“Shut up, we care. Get over it,” Roy cuts in, and you can’t help but frown.

“I’d appreciate it greatly if we just not talk about it. I’ve already poured my heart out with Ollie and Roy; we talked a few days ago. So, until the clock strikes 12, I am going to act as if tomorrow isn’t the anniversary of the worst day of my life, and I’d appreciate it if you would do the same,” you decide sternly.

Both the older boys share a look and then turn back to you, “fine,” Roy concedes, walking back to his seat. 

“His tact has always been less than desirable,” Kaldur decides. “I was supposed to speak with you quietly on my own first,” he huffs, sending a weak glare toward the back of Roy’s head.

“K…” you sigh. 

“Palió fílo den eísai mónos. Tha eímai edó se períptosi pou to chreiasteíte, allá den tha piéso poté. To xéreis aftó,” the Atlantean language rolls off his tongue smoothly, and it takes you a second to realize that your heart seems to have stopped beating for a second as you take in the meaning, “old friend, you are not alone. I will be here in case you need it, but I will never push. You know this.”

You take another breath, this time much calmer, “Den se axízo…” you murmur. “I do not deserve you,” you had told him, and he offered a sad smile. 

“You deserve it all,” he promises with a gentle pat on your hand before moving back to his seat, though you can see the look in his eyes as he glances back at you one last time.

You take a deep breath and roll your shoulders. In the process, you make eye contact with Wally, and you can’t help but freeze at how intensely he’s staring at you with his green eyes. A piece of you actually stutters because you know him, how big his heart is, and he wants to be here for you but can’t because you won’t talk to him. Your friendship with Wally and Dick had always been different from the borderline mother-henning you received from Kaldur, and there’s a piece of you that still thinks it’s because they didn’t know what he did.

ORLEANS PARISH

December 5th, 21:27 CST

You were crouched with Roy in the trees observing Sportsmaster. You watched as he loaded a small speedboat, fingers fiddling with one of your ring daggers. You had traded your regular leather jacket (stashed safely on the bioship) for a plain-looking zip-up covering your utility belt, leaving you in a somewhat civilian-looking state. Your mask was in a pocket on your belt, and you had shades on as you both watched your target jump into the boat. 

“Target's heading north,” you say softly into your comms as you follow Roy down the hill and into the shrubs covering your jetski. 

You perched behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist as you tracked Sportsmaster. “Pursue, but maintain a discreet distance. And that goes double for you, Artemis. Sportsmaster's proven adept at spotting Martian camouflage when in motion,” Roy adds, as the two of you followed at a distance.

“Was that necessary?” you ask in a hushed whisper, muting your comm. 

“It is if she’s the mole,” he shot back. 

“I thought we dropped this particular argument,” you hiss. 

“You did, I didn’t,” Roy shot back.

You wanted to continue the argument, but up ahead, you noticed as Sportsmaster began to slow down, “He's stopped,” you mutter back into the comms, switching your mic live once more.

“Hold your positions,” Roy tags on, looking back to make eye contact with you. 

He’s posing a silent question, one you can recognize after years of work together, and despite the sour taste in your mouth from your previous question, you nod your head in assent to what he’s asking. 

“We’re moving in for a closer look,” he tells the team, and together, you dismount the jetski to creep through the parish as silently as possible. 

It’s quiet as Roy focuses on Sportsmaster through his binoculars and as you observe the surrounding area, but when you hear a distant clinging sound, you grip Roy’s shoulder and frown. His lips pull down as you let go and start moving away from him and into the parish. You creep forward, pulling out two daggers as you follow the noise. 

You manage to get close enough to spot the source of the commotion and have to stifle a groan at the sight of Cheshire. Quietly you plant your legs and wind both arms back, daggers in both. Right before you’re about to swing, whipping the blades toward the assassin, two hands grab your wrists gently. Peering back with a tightened grip on your weapons, you spot Roy, who silently shakes his head and releases your wrists. He pulls out his bow and grabs one of his trick arrows. He gestures for you to go wide towards Artemis as he pulls back. 

You watch as the arrow soars, expanding into a net trap that manages to tie Cheshire to a tree. You both run after it, stopping beside Artemis. A quick visual assessment tells you she’s uninjured, though your attention is snagged away by the trapped assassin. 

“Why, Arrow. If you wanted another date, you only had to ask…” she drawls, and your jaw drops. 

“You two are dating?” Artemis shouts, whipping to stare at Roy, while you’re left in a mixed state of disgust and amusement, recalling the Taipei mission.

“Wh-what?” Roy stutters, “No!”

Cheshire offers a small scoff, “Why deny the attraction? After all, Arrow, you're here.” She paused for a second, switching her grip and using her katana to cut through the netting. “Really, I'm so fond of you, both. I couldn't bear to hurt you… much!” she grunts, brandishing her blade.

You twirl your ring daggers as you step forward, “and what am I? Chopped liver?”

“Of course not, little bird,” she argues, dropping into a stance, “but you’re about to be,” she hints before charging.

Your blades come up quick, and you use them to redirect hers. And when she draws back, you move forward to lunge at her, “your humor remains unmatched,” you snark as your blades make contact again.

“Hmm, it’s one of my best qualities,” she hums as the two of you continue to fight. “Your technique is improving, pretty bird. It’s impressive, but not enough,” she notes as she causes you to drop a blade and manages a superficial slice through your zip up at your arm and then again at your cheek before kicking you back.

As you stumble down, Artemis and Roy move forward, intent on getting to Cheshire. However, you lose sight of each other when the assassin sets off smoke bombs. 

You push yourself up and rip off the zip-up, looking around for any clearing in the smoke or hint at your bearings. 

You hear a shout from your left, “Sportsmaster!” It’s Roy’s voice but quickly followed with a grunt. 

You start moving toward it, and manage to break through the smoke in time to see Cheshire on top of Roy, sai against his cheek as she kissed him. 

“Oh, too bad, lover boy… but at least, a kiss is still a kiss…” she drawled, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but before you could get any closer, Cheshire was knocked back.

“And a sai is just a sai,” Wally muses, “And quite the souvenir, by the way,” Wally adds on, noting the weapon now in his hand. 

“Artemis, tracer arrow on Sportsmaster, now!” Roy shouts as he pushes himself up.

Wally spots you next. A frown overtakes his face as he takes in your new injuries, but your attention breaks when you hear Artemis utter an upset huff, “He's out of range!”

“Move!” Roy demands, shoving a bit as he launches his arrow, just in time to land a tracker on the boat, before taking off to the jet ski. 

“You're abandoning?” Artemis scoffed as he ran.

“I'm prioritizing!” he shot back. 

“Arrow!” you shout after him, but he doesn’t respond, simply taking off after Sportsmaster. 

“Oh, that's gotta sting….” Cheshire drawls, reappearing behind Wally. “He makes the shot you're afraid to even try!” 

Artemis grunts before starting to shoot at Cheshire, and you dive for your daggers still on the ground. Scooping them up, you begin volleying your attack at the trained shadow. With Artemis and Wally, you switch between weaponry and tactics to attack the assassin. When Kaldur comms in with a new plan, you make eye contact with your three teammates before doing what you can to follow through.

You watch Cheshire send Artemis flying back, and when you try to turn to her, one of her shurikens flies dangerously close to your face. When you look back, she’s gone, and your eyes land on Wally helping Artemis back up. 

“Hey, did you-” before you can finish your question, Artemis is nodding. 

“Tracer’s on her sword,” she affirms. 

“Brilliant! I knew you could-” Wally’s statement is borderline flirtatious, but when you hear the jet ski getting closer, he cuts himself off. Instead, his eyes narrow once more on the cut on your face. 

“Oh, hey, there's the guys! Birdy, let me see your face,” Wally decides, grabbing at your wrist as you move to catch up to where Roy and Kaldur were.

You try to glance back at Artemis, but Wally keeps a firm grip as he tugs you along, “I’d much rather talk about whatever that was,” you tease but are met with a leveled glare. “You’re usually a lot more fun,” you pout at him. 

“Birdy..” there’s a heavy sigh to his tone, “I know you’re not telling me something, and that’s… whatever, but let me see the cut. And whenever you’re ready to talk about, whatever it is you’re deflecting from, I’ll be here,” he frowns. 

“Fine,” you huff, turning to face him, pushing your sunglasses up, so he has an unobstructed view. Wally’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, and you roll your eyes at him. “Just ‘cause I’m not telling you something doesn’t mean I don’t still trust you,” you snip, but your words are honest. There were very few people in your life that you trusted as much as you trusted Wally.

A small smile quirks Wally’s lips as he checks on the cut, “how many times a day do you roll your eyes at me?”

His question comes out so genuine, but the words force you to choke down the laugh that threatens to burst through, “too many times to count,” you relent, a smile curling at your lips.

“Figures,” he chuckles, pushing your sunglasses back down. “Surface cut, probably won’t even scar,” he tells you. 

“Could’ve told you that myself, but thanks, doc,” you tease, pushing Wally over to where Kaldur and Roy had just stopped, and Artemis joined you a few minutes later. 

“So, we threw the fight, as ordered. After Artemis planted the tracer,” Wally confirmed.

“Cheshire's heading North,” Artemis shares, holding up her tracker’s data pad.

“Sportsmaster was headed South,” Roy shoots back. “Kinda like this mission,” he adds with a harsh bite, causing you to quirk a brow at his tone.

“Maybe he'll double back,” you offer, voice level as you keep your gaze focused on Roy, “maybe she will.”

“Either way, they'll rendezvous, and we'll find them!” Wally completes.

“We had better,” Kaldur warns. “Sportsmaster acquired an attaché case. We need to learn what it contained,” he paused for a second, hesitating almost, and your lips turned down as he turned to Artemis. “If you had stayed aboard the Bio-Ship….”

“I saw Cheshire sneaking up on them!” Artemis defended.

“Then you radio a warning,” Roy argues.

“And if she found you by hacking our frequency?” she shot back.

“That’s true,” you note, pulling a lip between your teeth. It was a tough argument. You understand the importance of holding your position during a mission, you know how bad things could go, and the current situation wasn’t ideal. However, you know better than the rest that Artemis needs this right now, needs to feel useful, needs to prove herself. And right now, you don’t think she’d listen if you told her any differently.

“We have come to rely on M'gann's telepathy over our radios,” Kaldur supported.

Wally huffed, interjecting, “So let's stop looking to place blame and start looking for Cheshire.”

Artemis tossed the data pad at Roy, “Here. Since, clearly, I can't be trusted; you track her.”

“Artemis-” you try to cut in, brow furrowing deeper as you turned back to her, as Wally snatched the pad back and tried to give it back to the blonde.

“It’s fine. I'll follow in the Bioship,” she decided, waving you both off before moving back to the Bioship.

“Go, Kid. Arrow, NG, and I will return to the river. And we will all follow, as originally planned,” Kaldur decides. 

“Actually, Wally, I’ll meet you by your bike,” you bite out, gaining a few looks, but you don’t elaborate.

You wait a second, allowing KF to take off and for Kaldur to walk out of earshot, gripping Roy’s arm tightly. “I know you’re mole hunting. I know you don’t like how GA brought her to the team. But let me be clear, she has earned her space on this team, and every time you undermine or belittle her, all you do is drive a wedge between her and this team. Jeopardizing how we all work together,” you say levelly, staring out into the parish but keeping your grip tight. 

Roy attempts to shrug you off, but you simply tighten your grip a little more, “Birdy,” he huffs. 

“No. Since day one, you’ve treated her like shit. I’m sick of it, Roy. You need to grow up. I’m here doing my best to keep my personal shit out of the mission, and if I can do that today of all days, then so can you. This mission just got extended, and I’ll be lucky to make it back before tomorrow, so pull it together because I won’t be able to for much longer,” you huff, letting go of his arm and turning to glare at him before stalking off towards Wally.

“Not that you’re not my best girl, and you know I’d follow you blindly, but any chance you want to elaborate on what’s going on?” he asks, mustering up all the nonchalance he had.

You stop for a second and take a deep breath, “we need to focus on Sportsmaster and Cheshire-”

“(Y/n)-”

“No! Wally, please… I will tell you, but not until the mission is done. I swear I will tell you, but only once we’re done, I can’t-” you cut yourself off to take a deep breath, “I can’t deal with it until we’re done because if I go into it now, it won’t stop,” your tone is borderline begging as you struggle to get a grasp on your emotions. 

Wally’s eyes blew wide as he pulled his helmet off, dropping it to the floor to grab your arms, “Hey, hey, hey, okay. It’s okay, I know I’m pushing, but you don’t have to tell me,” he reminds you. 

You take another deep breath and nod at him, his grip grounding you, your hand wrapping around his arms as you calm down, “I will tell you,” you repeat, though much calmer. “I will, just once we’re done,” you say softly. 

“Okay,” he nods. 

“We should go,” you swallow, straightening and stuffing all thoughts unrelated to the mission into a box, closing the lid, and shoving it aside until you are ready to address it properly.

Wally gives you another careful look before picking up his helmet and walking back to the bike, “You wanna drive?”

Your eyes snap to him, lips quirking up a little, “fuck yes,” you huff, and he smiles at you, gesturing for you to hope on first.

NEW ORLEANS

December 5th, 22:18 CST

“Aqualad to Kid and NG,” Aqualad’s voice crackled over the comms about fifteen minutes after the two of you had hit the road. 

“What’s up, Aqualad,” KF answered from his spot seated behind you.

“Arrow’s located Cheshire and Sportsmaster, sending updated coordinates now. Kid, you should go ahead,” he instructs. 

There’s a ping on the bike’s display, and you start to break immediately, “He’s right, KF. We’ve been going the wrong way. You’re faster than the bike,” you note as the two of you slow to a stop. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, hopping off.

“I’ll be right behind you,” you reassure him. 

Wally nods once before turning and taking off. You’re quick to do the same, pulling a u-turn before revving the bike up to its max speeds. You’d switched the sunglasses for your mask right before you took off from the parish and had since ditched the zip-up. Instead, Wally’s racing jacket was slung over your bare arms since he’d been wearing his suit underneath. 

By the time you regrouped with Aqualad, you could see the slight annoyance on his face, “what is it?” you asked as he slid onto the bike behind you, and you took off once more, heading for the rendezvous point Roy had sent. 

“I found our tracker,” he said shortly. 

“Okay?”

“It was on a train car. There was no evidence of Cheshire or Sportsmaster,” he explains a bit more.

Your heart thudded; with all of Roy’s accusations, it’s hard to keep from jumping to the worst, “maybe Cheshire ditched her tracker? She’s highly skilled and could’ve spotted it right after Artemis planted it. Plus, there were tracks near the parish. She could’ve meant to send us on a meaningless chase,” you attempt to reason. 

“Someone most definitely did, although I am unsure as to whom,” he advised, voice leveled. 

“I really hate this day,” you decide suddenly. 

“On that, we agree,” he affirms before you both elapse into silence. 

The two of you were too late to join the party, unfortunately. By the time you got there, Sportsmaster and Cheshire were gone- with no means of tracking them. And according to Artemis, a chance at Klarion, The Brain, Gorilla Mallah, and Professor Ivo had also been missed. None of you were happy as you piled onto the Bioship. Kaldur helped you load the bike as Artemis slipped back into the pilot’s seat.

MOUNT JUSTICE

December 6th, 03:21 EST

The flight back to the Mountain was in silence, and every minute that ticked by put you further on edge. You summoned a clock to appear in front of you. Even from your spot away from everyone, you could feel their emotions bubbling; Roy’s tension, distrust, and anger; Kaldur’s quiet yet tense contemplation; Wally’s nervous energy was vibrating off the ship's walls; a gut-wrenching mix of unclear emotions from Artemis. You did your best to tune it out and instead watched the minutes tick by, willing your brain to stop. 

The second the clock struck twelve, and the date changed to the 6th, you had to fight the swell of emotions; to bite back the scream that echoed in your throat and push down the tears welling in your eyes. The mission was almost done, you were almost home, and then you could fall apart. You had to make it home, away from everyone else and their overwhelming emotions that threatened your own mental stability. 

By the time you touched down, you were barely holding it together. Lips welded shut, and fists clenched tightly. The rest of the team met you in the main training space of the Mountain, and you let Kaldur take the lead.

“Let me be clear, we failed. Though the Injustice League is in custody, their allies still scheme. And we have learned nothing of their plans,” he said flatly, after a short recap of the mission gone wrong.

“Gee, I wonder why,” Roy lamented, taking a dig at Artemis and crossing his arms. 

“Hey! Who found out Sportsmaster was working for Brain, Klarion, and Ivo?” she snapped, surging forward. 

“Yeah, great intel! Except Ivo has been in Belle Reve the whole time!” Roy shot back. “And the guards just checked. It's the real Ivo, not a robot!”

“You know, I'm getting pretty tired of you dumping on her,” Wally stepped up, sliding himself between Artemis and Roy, the emotions in the room were rising, and your hand began to shake in spillover.

Roy simply held up a tracer, “Her tracer, so?” Wally asked. “Cheshire ditched it.”

“No,” Roy corrected. “Artemis ditched that to send us on a wild-goose chase,” he huffed before holding up an identical tracer. “She put this one on Cheshire.”

Your eyes snapped to the girl in green whose energy suddenly flattened as if the heat behind her argument had been extinguished. 

“Artemis?” Wally’s voice was soft as he turned to her. He paused for a second, but when she said nothing, Wally’s emotions shifted, and his face hardened, “Are you that freaked out about Arrow joining the Team? You had to prove yourself by bringing down the bad guys solo?” he asked, hints of anger laced into his words. “Please, tell me I'm wrong!”

Artemis looked at him, and all you could feel from her was sadness and guilt as she opened her mouth to say something but then shut it, dropping his gaze. 

“Well, nice going. What you proved is that you're insecure and selfish,” he frowned, voice lower than you could ever remember hearing it, but behind his words were the echo of hurt. “Keep the sai,” he decides, letting the weapon clatter to the floor. “This is the right souvenir for the mission,” he says, snatching the tracer from Roy’s grip and stomping off to the locker rooms. 

“So, how will you betray us next time?” Roy asked, heat in every word as he readdressed Artemis, and you snapped. 

“Enough!” you shouted, and everyone froze, looking at you with wide eyes, and for a second, even Roy lost his arrogance. “Stop it, all of you need to stop it,” you huff, taking in a shaking breath. “If making a mistake was a betrayal, we would all be traitors,” you say seriously, locking gaze with Roy, then Artemis, and finally Kaldur, when he laid a hand gently on your shoulder.

“I must report to Batman. The rest of you, get some sleep,” he decides, and everyone dispersed, casting you another weary look. 

The only ones remaining were Roy, Artemis, and you. 

“You're not who you say you are. This isn't over. Not by a long shot,” Roy warns before heading to the locker rooms himself. 

She stands in front of you, clearly guilty and upset, and finally, you can breathe because now it’s only the two of you, and it’s easier to manage the emotions bubbling out without so much outside interference. 

“You made a bad call, but I stand by what I’ve said. It was a mistake on your part, a miscalculation in how much you could trust us. But trust is a two-way street, Artemis. Most of us have known each other for too long to second guess. I grew up with Roy, and spent a year as Kaldur’s study buddy and neighbor. I trained and met with Rob and KF almost the entire time I was a sidekick. We rescued Superboy from Cadmus. He chose us and fought for us. M’gann is still learning, but she’s made choices, trusted us with her life several times, and given us access to her mind. We extend what we can to you, but you barely give us anything in return,” your voice is low as you attempt an explanation.

You watch as her shoulders sag, as she bites her lip to keep from saying something, and so you continue, “I’m not asking for your secret ID. That’s yours to protect, to give. And I’m sorry if this sounds harsh. I’ve got my shit going on too. I’m telling you because I’ve been telling you that I believe in you. I said it before we even got the mission yesterday. I told you, you’ve earned your spot. I told you that you’d proven your worth and skill. You chose to disregard that statement, to put no faith into what I shared, and instead, we lost our target, learned nothing about his visit to Louisiana, and failed the mission. I suggest you reconsider how you want our team dynamics to be going further. M’gann and I are different from the rest. We feel things more intensely, we have a better understanding, and even though I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me the way I’ve been trusting you, I know why you did it. I disagree, but I get it. Not everyone will be so quick to see that,” you further, pausing again. 

This time you move a bit closer, patting her shoulder, you want to say more, but you can’t. At this point, you need to scream or cry, or both. You need to let out your emotions because staying in control is too hard and too much. It’s just too much for today, for right now. So you pat her shoulder and walk toward the locker rooms. 

You slump onto the bench and close your eyes, trying to breathe. The sounds of incoming steps interrupt you. Opening your eyes, you’re ready to shout at anyone dumb enough to try to talk to you right now, but the words die as Wally crouches down in front of you. He is sitting on the floor and looking up at you with hurt in his green eyes and concern simmering just below. 

“Today’s the 6th,” you mutter, pulling the specialized alcohol wipes from your utility belt to help remove the adhesive of your mask. He doesn’t say anything, eyes tracing how your hands were shaking so much that you couldn't tear the packet open even with the fingerless gloves on your hand. Instead, his hands reach out and pull it for you, but his lips stay shut. “December 6th,” you swallow as you start tracing over your mask, using the wipe against the adhesive.

“Eight years ago, today, I watched as my parents were shot and killed in front of me,” you force your voice to stay level as you finally pull the mask off, bearing the rawest part of you to Wally. “That’s why everyone was so concerned about me yesterday, why Ollie and I were the way we were. Why Kaldur and Roy kept trying to check in on me or tell me I didn’t have to go on the mission because today is the anniversary of the worst day of my life,” you hiccup slightly as all the tears you’ve been pushing down for hours, breakthrough. “Which is why I couldn’t talk about it earlier, because that means facing it, and I didn’t want to. Because eight years means I’ve spent more time without my parents than I have with them, and it hurts. It hurts in a way that I hope you never know, Wally,” you manage to spit out before the first sob wracks through you.

You keel over, hiding your face in your arms, and you feel Wally’s hands on your knees, thumbs rubbing circles as he silently does his best to support you. For once, he doesn’t joke or prod. He stays silent as he lets you cry and does his best to support you. Slowly he helps in soft, gentle movements. He unclips your utility belt, then the harnesses for the ring daggers. Unclasps your choker and helps unravel your braids. Unties and unzips your boots. He lets you cry through the process, finally releasing the tidal wave of emotion you’ve been holding back and bottling.

When you calm down enough, he hands you a towel and a change of clothes from your duffle, directing you to the shower stalls. He waits outside for you to pass him your suit, and while you’re showering, if he hears you heave a few more sobs, he never says a word. 

He has you sit back on the bench when you reemerge, showered, clean, but with puffy red eyes. You’re dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie that most likely belonged to Roy or Ollie. He grabs the hairbrush from your locker and brushes your hair back before braiding your hair in a simple single, loose braid that just barely manages to keep your hair out of your face. He forces you to drink water while he braids, and even in this in-between state, you could hear the few swears Wally drops under his breath as he wrestles with your hair. Though, overall you found the action sweet and quite soothing. 

When he’s done, he comes back around and crouches in front of you again, hands on your knees, “are you hungry?” he asks gently. 

It’s not the question you were anticipating, but you look at him with big, sad, teary eyes and shake your head, no. Not totally a lie because, frankly, you didn’t have an appetite. 

“Am I taking you to Dinah or Ollie? Or do you want to go home with me? We have a guest room,” he asks the questions softly and waits patiently for you to answer.

“Ollie’s,” you manage to croak after the silence has stretched for a few minutes, allowing you to summon the strength. 

“Okay, I’m going to call GA, so he can come to get you, and take you home,” Wally decides, standing up. 

Your arms latch quickly onto his, stopping him from moving, “Please don’t leave me alone,” you beg as new tears slip down your cheeks.

Green eyes wide with concern, he shakes his head, “I won’t,” he promises, sitting back down. He pulls out his phone and taps something, “Computer, please contact Green Arrow immediately and tell him to come to the locker room ASAP. Don’t stop calling until he answers,” Wally calls out.

“Contacting Green Arrow now,” the voice confirms, and Wally returns to rubbing small circles on your knees. 

You’re not outrightly sobbing anymore, and tears that slip past are primarily silent and slow, so he cautiously tests the water, “this why you were so quiet on the flight back?” 

You offer a slight nod in confirmation. 

“Okay, and uh, this have anything to do with what you talked to Roy about in the Parish?”

You hold up your hand, squishing your pointer and thumb together with a small gap between them as a non-verbal answer. Talking just seemed too daunting a task at the moment.

“A little?” he asks, gaining a nod from you in confirmation. “Artemis?” he follows, and you nod again. He waits a beat and then asks, “are you mad at her?”

You pause and think it through before making the same hand motion as before, and this time Wally nods, “Yeah, me too,” he frowns. 

Wally stays with you, thumbs rubbing small circles into your knees as you wait for Oliver, and eventually, he shows up. Blond hair in different directions, wearing sweatpants, a hoodie, and his mask. A frow immediately pulls at his lips as he takes in the state you’re in. 

“Sweet girl,” he huffs, rushing over to you, one arm lopping around your shoulders, as he crouches down next to Wally. 

“She told me, what today is, and I- I didn’t want to leave her alone, she’s present and answering questions, but I don’t think she’s fully aware of everything,” Wally explains, and Oliver nods. 

“Good man, Wally. Her first few years were a lot like this. She’d bottle everything and try to carry on until the bottle shattered. She was left like this, disassociating just enough to function after her initial release,” Ollie explained, and maybe if you were fully coherent, you’d get mad at how he was talking about you like you weren’t right next to him. “Thank you for calling me and staying with her, but it’s time for me to take her home.” “All her gear is in her locker. I put it there and wiped down what I could while she was in the shower,” he adds as Oliver shifts you slightly and pulls you into his arms before standing up. You curl into Oliver’s hold as Wally’s grip falls away. 

“Thank you,” Ollie repeats, and slowly the three of you make your way to the Zeta. “It’s late, Wally. You should head home,” he adds as they stop moving. 

Before Wally can move, your hand swings and grabs onto his arm. Wally freezes, looks at you, and inches closer, lacing your fingers with his. You still don’t want to talk, but you focus the little brain power you have left to send a wave of gratitude his way, pulling on the memories of everything he’s done for you.

He squeezes your hand, eyes wide in wonder as you share your new ability with him. “You don’t have to thank me, (y/n). I already told you, you’re my best girl,” he muses pathetically. Moving to hold your hand and squeeze, “only one to stick by me, no matter what, who never lies to me. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always be here,” he promises, placing a small kiss on the back of your hand, squeezing one more time before letting go. “I’ll see you soon, Birdy,” he adds as he taps at the Zeta stand. 

“Recognized; Kid Flash, b-03,” the computer announced, and then he was gone. 

“Our turn, Dinah’s waiting on the other side with a car, and then we’re going to go home. And no one, no one, is leaving you alone today,” Oliver promises, and the zeta lights up again. 

“Recognized; Green Arrow, 08. Nightingale, b-14.”

everything tags:

​​@butterfly-skinnylegend

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​​@loninctzencarat @grey-water-colors @batarella @escapenightmare

cnng taglist:

@babymango-writes @smile-more19 @truly-dionysus @sometimeseverythingsucks @dweeb-central @explodingwaffle789 @evermoore580 @whelmedparker @midnxghtblue @putyourcigoutonmyback @emoryjosten @wheresthecoffee @unicorn-mya @bouqet-of-gay @duckmylife18 @ahyeonah @cryingnotcrying @just-living5 @wvnderstodd @mischiefmanaged71 @we-flower-fan @laurcad123 @aces-tattooartist @kate-maximoff-blog @awkward-youtube-trash @charactermoodboard @currentresidentinhell @raggedyoldwitch @ivoryeycs @farfromjustordinary @cipheress-to-k-pop @seninjakitey @bigtimesexhaving @gautier-lei @unini @brightjimini @tinybeantm @kendallambrosio @hanbedumbaf @escapenightmare @lolsnacks @galacticmei @cynthiarose07

[sunntownn]

To Taste The Stars

Chapter Five: Soulmark Freakout & Government Affairs

hello! little author's note :3

hi! if you didn't already know, my name is sunny ♡ just wanted to let you guys know that ive had such a hard time writting this specific chapter because it focuses more on politics, and I, am in fact, not educated on politics,, at least not make believe alien robot / human affair politics,,,

im literally going to college for art i am so outta my comfort zone here,, so if this chapter seems a little choppy and not as put together as previous chapters, that is why, and im sorry 😭

it has been edited some to try and make more sense, so hopefully its not too bad!

thank you all for reading and the amazing support! your positive feedback fills me with creative motivation and just makes my heart swell

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

          Optimus Prime was having an internal crisis when his degsenation was called, followed by the young translator that looked as if he was dehydrated by the sheer amount of sweating his body was doing. "Igetis ton Autobots, Optimus Prime, pou ekprosopei ta Autobots."

He stood slowly as the peering eyes of Earth's sentient, primary species watched him curiously and skeptically. His chest plates continued to softly ache and almost seemed to be trying to push him in the direction of YN- YN.

That was her name, he mused silently to himself. When they announced her presence the Prime had a difficult time to not gawk at her. He kept his feet planted this time, not willing to have the Mother Stars throw him to the ground once again and embarress Agent Fowler more than he already has.

          As much as the space dietys adore the romance that their gift to the universe brought to life, they were going to wait until after the meeting. He refused to let his optics wander in her direction until he sat back down.

     Several other names were called and Optimus payed upmost attenetion to each human in the room, nonetheless, the Prime still would catch glances of the Greek woman across the room who sported what he beleived to be expensive and elegent, white fabrics- suits, as the kids had informed him once- each time with her gaze either at the person of the name who was called, or at the desk in front of her sorting through various notebooks and files. She was fiddling anxiously, that much he could tell. Perhaps it was because of his meer presence. Humans did have a negative perspective of exterestrail species, via syfi films.

     Miko had made the team watch the film "Alien" from 1979 a few months back, as well as the "Predator" film made in 1987. That, among dozens of other alien-based horror franchises.

Ratchet and Arcee were not amused. Bulkhead and Bumblebee, however, were horrified.

Not to mention "Terminator."

     Wow, Optimus mused to himself, wow, maybe this meeting is not going to work out.

     Genral Bryce stood after roll call had offically been wrapped up, he smoothed out the front of his suit, medals gleaming under the florescent lights above. They made a soft clinking noise as they hit each other with every step he took. He cleared his throat, "Good afternoon gentalmen," he said, peering around the room as he made his way down the isle and to the front of the room.

"As you now know, we have called you all here today to address an exterestrail threat, as well as allies. And before we dive deep into the issue at hand, I wish to introduce you all to a program put together by the United States Department of Defense; the Autobot Protection Program."

     "Thirty years ago, a space craft crash landed into the side of a mountain in Colorado, where a civilian made first contact with Optimus Prime. They were wounded and critically low on supplies. After the USDOD made their appearance, we of cource, had our doubts about the trustworthiness of these machines."

Bryce paced back and forth across the front of the room, making hand gestures that Prime didnt quite understand that point of. The translator kept up pace with the Genral's quick mouth.

     Optimus then noticed, that Greece's repreentives were seated all on the left side of the room, as they all kept their eyes on the translator rather than General Bryce himself.

YN was on the left.

     "There were only six of them at the time. All soldiers. All armed with advanced weaponry and tech. We had every reason to be cautious of these alien mechs. But even after alliences were made, the Autobots gave us no reason to doubt their honor, their honesty, nor kindness, and they most certainly did not give us any reasons to be afraid."

Bryce took in one deep breath. "So, I hope that you all will keep that in mind when making your final decisions on the outcome of this meeting."

     Fowler quickly took the floor as Bryce sat himself down. "The Autobot Protection Program was set in place three months after their crash landing in Colorado. They came here for fuel. Similar to how we, as humans, eat foods to survive, Cybertronians need a specific kind of crystal to survive. A crystal that our planet  just so happens to be rich with. They call it Energon. And while Energon is good for Cybertronians, it is very toxic and harmful to us."

     "According to the Autobots, the Civil War of their planet made Energon rare to come by. They had no choice but to come here to mine and harvest it for their own survival. The Autobot Protection Program was made to let them do just that without being exposed to the public eye. This kept up for thirteen years.

However, when the Decepticons reached Earth's atmosphere, things got a much more complicated."

     Fowler looked to Prime before sweeping his gaze back over to YN, who had a notebook and folder open that she had activly been reading through during the speech. She gave Fowler an encouraging grin and thumbs up. The Greek translator continued to keep up efficiently, only pausing for a moment to breath.

     "The Decepticons, led by Megatron, had and have very little regard for human life. They see us as inferior. They do not care for keeping themselves unseen by human eyes, which had been leaving the USDOD very busy cleaning up their messes. The Decepticons are not few in numbers. They came here with a war ship and an army."

     "These sentient exterestrails are much bigger than us, they have advanced weaponry, and their intelligence outways ours over seven hundred precent. The Decepticons will eventually become desperate to execute the last of the Autobot's Resistance, and will most likely endanger civilians in order to achieve that goal. They have already started targeting children. But the Autobots are here to protect us. Optimus Prime made a vow to do so. They did not intend for Earth to get involved in their civil war and are here to put a stop to any schemes Megatron has to harm Earth and it's inhabitants in any way. And I must say, he has proven himself time and time again to be capable of doing so. He has saved my life more times that I can count." Folwer took a breathe, watching.

     Whispering unease and silent panic warmed the room with the fact that these aliens were targeting children. The same children who are the lifeline of their futures and their planet's future. Innocent children. How many? Why?

     "If you'd all take a look at the files that have been left infront of you, you can skim through mission logs, team roles, and the children that are involved's personal files. We assure you, that these kids are safe. The Autobots take them to and from school, extracurricular activities, jobs, and they spend most of their free time at the Autobot secret base. While yes, they are in danger of encountering Decepticons, they are fully protected with individual guardians- soldiers who are more than capable of taking down a few Cons and getting their charges to saftey."

     YN had flashed him a horried expression at the mention of kids being involved in a fucking alien war. That had not been mentioned in any files he gave her before hand or mentioned during they're catch-up outings. Her glare calmed throughtout the explanation, but Folwer still flinched under her hard stare.

     William forgot to mention it, obviously, too busy trying to both prepare a room of people to meet a giant metal alien, along with making up from lost time with his old University buddy, because, ya know, he faked his death.

     He's ganna have to add another thing to his interal list of reasons he's pissed off YN. Yikes.

     "The Autobots have been our only line of defense for the last thirty years. But we can no longer operate in secret. Which is why the United States Department of Defense and Optimus Prime have asked you here, in hopes of signing a treaty that will allow Autobots to operate in your country and retrieve one of their ancient alien relics, to which we have evidence of being in your lands."

     The room regarded this information cautiously.

     Optimus caught the anxious glace he sent to YN across the room, who, under further investigation, seemed to be murdering him with her optics.

     The room was hushed with whispers and judging expressions. Perhaps mentioning the kids wasnt the best idea, but they were already on the mission files in front of everyone, so there was no point in ignoring the subject. Fowler waited patiently in front of the room while the crowd spoke in a language he didnt fully understand.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     After forty long minutes of various questions being tossed around the room with both frightfull and genuinely curious tones, a break finally put a pause on all current activities and allowed everyone to stretch their limbs and roam around.

I had marched straight to the nearest restroom before William could catch up and give me a worse headache then the one already making my forehead throb.

     I really needed a brain break from politics and aliens, trying to force myself to think of other things while I rubbed at my palms.

     Virginia is nice, I suppose. The beach is not nearly as clean nor clear as the one outside of my house. The humity makes my hair frizzy and makes me sweat in temperatures I should be used too. There are many historical sights, some I plan on seeing before my departure back to Greece. One of the first thirteen colonies and all that jazz.

     On the ride from the hotel to the Pentagon I saw a mother and daughter walking out of a bridal shop holding into a protected wedding gown with the goofiest and most joyful smiles I had seen all week. She had found her soulmate and witnessing such a sweet moment brought a smile to my face as we road past.

     I was hungry, too, daydreaming of soups and sour breads. Perhaps I'll look around near my hotel for a restaurant and grab something to eat before my plane ride home tomorrow. But I did see some goodies on a table right outside the room were having the meeting in. I could snatch a few of those before this little break was over.

     I missed my own bed, five star hotel or not, I preferred my own mattress and my own blankets. I specifically missed the calming sound of ocean waves crashing onto the shore right outside my window. I also missed my cat, and all her mischievous glory. I hope shes not scratching the doorframes again. I'll have to call Mom later to see how everything is going over there. I should bring her something back from America, as a thank you for watching my house and evil cat and all that fun stuff.

     Turning off the tap, I flick my hands to get the access water off before grabbing a paper towel and drying off.

     Fowler had finished explaining everything. The aliens, their cause, their war, their alliance with the United States, the child endangerment, he explained "Groundbridge"s, of which I'm still not positive is actually a thing, and he explained why they believe that the object they're looking for is under Ancient Greece.

     Now it was my turn. Well, not now. But when this pause was over, I was to take the stage and convince my country to allow exterestrails to dig through our history to find. And then I have to explain the object, of which I was given limited intel on. Fun times. Coolio. No stress. Of course, I have my own qualifications that I can use to sway the majority. But this is still a room of men. Old, white, cranky men, who think women belong in the kitchen and a buncha other mysonistic bullshit.

     The tile floors are squeaky clean and the white noise of the restroom is sort of calming However, that calm did not last long.

Tossing the crumpled up paper in the bin, I go to pull my sleeves back down before the expensive fabric starts to wrinkle. This suit was a rental and I didnt feel like messing it up and having to pay extra.

     "Holy hell," I squeaked.

     Damn!

     Shit!

     Fuck!

     I hadn't been paying my wrist any attention for the past couple days, rightfully so. Too stressed to pay anything else any attention. I mean god damn! I'm in a meeting with a fucking alien car. I'm a little preoccupied.

     My timer is gone.

     Looking up from my wrist, I catch my own panicked face in the mirror. Eyes wide and jaw slacked. Now? Of all the times for this to happen, it had to be right now?!

     Trying to recall the last time I remembered seeing it clearly on my wrist, biting my lip and pulling down my sleeves.

It was on my wrist when I was putting on my suit this morning. I believe it was there when I grabbed breakfast in the hotel lobby. But that was the last time I remember have a countdown on my person. At least, one hundred precent sure.

     So, from leaving the hotel at eleven in the morning, to now, sometime around four in the afternoon, I have either walked passed or have had contact with my soulmate. And I didnt even notice.

     Fuck.

[mementoasts]

PLEASE do write me some thoughts about suprisingly caring (original?) loser uncle elias

ohhhhhh oh i'm excited to finally write this all out in one spot. also a bit embarassed because i'm cringe and pulled all of this outta my ass xD

i didn't mean to write so much but it became kind of A Lot. i even decided halfway through that i needed to use proper capitalization because i can't look at so many bullet points in lowercase fdhsfkjdkh PLEASE bear with me:

First off, yes! It's just original Elias. I desperately need to see Jonah again, but for as far as I've thought about this, Elias isn't involved in any spooky situations here. No eyes getting gouged out, no Magnus Institute, no dead college roommate. (I could get extra silly and say they're happily married xD)

I do think he's still a bit haunted by his father, in the sort of way that it's impossible to shake off the damage done by a parent entirely, even when they died half a lifetime ago and you're already in your mid-to-late-50s.

But for the most part, he's kinda moved past it. He got over his "I'm a Bouchard, I'm destined to be More" phase somewhere in his 30s, and has learned to find meaning in little things and be content with where he is in life. (I'm also running with the idea that this probably meant he never got a letter from the Institute, so he spent a few years miserably trying to figure out why nothing seemed good enough for him before forcing himself to get over it).

Doesn't really have any contact with most of his relatives, but it's nothing that bothers him at this point.

Him being Gwen's uncle would obviously mean one of Gwen's parents is his sibling, which I think is reasonably possible. (I'd assume it's not her mother, because Gwen's last name is also Bouchard). I could see him having an overachiever younger brother that made him look even worse by comparison.

Elias' father had probably basically disowned him by the time he died, so Elias wasn't left with as much.

Probably met Gwen at some family function when she was still very young, before he committed to distancing himself from the rest of his family. He still showed up, but no one really had any reason to talk to the guy whose father would openly go ON about his son being such a disappointment. And Elias certainly didn't feel like striking up a conversation with most of the people there unless he had to.

Gwen is just as quiet and polite as everyone else there, but she's still just a kid. Elias sees her getting a slap on the wrist after reaching for a second mini-dessert to go with the rest of her tea, so he wraps one in a napkin and gives it to her later while her parents aren't looking.

He's just tired and lost at this point, and it's more of a chore than ever keeping up appearances; so when Gwen looks up at him with big, happy eyes and a soft "thank you," well-- he feels like he can relax his shoulders a bit, and finds himself smiling down at her.

For a while, that's Gwen's nice uncle who she likes seeing at gatherings :] But she quickly starts to settle into a more serious demeanor as she gets older, and at the same time, Elias doesn't really show up to anything anymore.

Something something something, she's probably in her teens/early adulthood maybe when she actually bumps into him again somewhere. She's overheard plenty of negative things about him over the years from her father, but,,,,,, well, she's still got a soft spot for the guy, even if she maybe agrees that Elias could be doing more for himself. And when he smiles at her, it's not as restrained as the one she remembers from when she was a kid.

He's certainly a bit of a goofball now. Nearly two decades of unlearning toxic mentalities and finding something to be passionate about in life kinda does that to some people. He's actually kind of annoying, but she tolerates it because that's just her Uncle Elias :/

I think he'd be mostly chill, but pretty upbeat. Has a habit of yapping. Maybe a little sassy? I kinda feel like the way he speaks would be similar to how he sounded when it was Jonah, but more lighthearted/informal.

Gwen doesn't give him many details about work and such, but it quickly becomes apparent to him that she's definitely not happy with where she is, despite how much she'll calmly insists she likes her job.

He's under the impression she's only sticking around at that job because she's sunk several years into it already, and it'd look good to her family if she could eventually move up into an actual respectable position. (Although I'm personally assuming that her motivations are separate from any of that specifically, but who knows!)

Elias trusts she knows what she's doing, but maybe he's a bit worried because he's seeing himself in her, a little bit. He doesn't want her to do anything rash (y'know. like blackmailing her boss for a promotion. or something.) the longer she's stuck at the bottom without a way of climbing higher.

At this point I feel like all of this is too good for him. He needs to be put into a Situation. But I also really enjoy a character who's already been through the horrors of being in their 20s/30s and has actually managed to find a way to be okay with life 😭 If this were an actual workplace comedy, he'd just pop in from time to time to be silly and irritate Gwen a bit. He's probably get along with Alice.

okay other random details. He doesn't smoke weed or anything as much as he used to, but still does occasionally just for funsies. He's recently gotten into vaping.

Jonah Magnus wears fancy three-piece suits ONLY, you CANNOT change my mind. Elias would dress far more casually, however :3 Maybe not so far as a hoodie and sweatpants (at least not when he goes out), but more like a nice, comfy sweater and an old coat and pants that don't really match anything but he still looks mostly alright. I think it'd be funny if he wore, like, Crocs, though. Never really styles his hair.