#will this be edited and made longer? yes...

[lunanovakat]

Sneak Peek of a Future Project

This is barely even half of this first chapter and it keeps growing... I wanted to share the rough draft before it gets too big and seven-years pass before it's one day uploaded.

I've just been so in love with Marvel/DC crossovers lately, I have so many DC or Marvel crossovers tbh, and honestly I have so many WIPs that leaking peeks of them are probably how half of them are going to be able to see the light of day.

Feel free to pester me in curiosity bc I'd love to rant about my never-ending list of work and maybe also use them as an excuse to not feel hella stressed.

Still thinking of a name for it, so we'll see how that comes out.

Sandman's in jail for the millionth time - exhausting as always but worth it - the general destruction the man was known for having been kept to a minimum, thankfully, and Spider-Man waved away by shifting cops who aren't really sure how to treat the hero-framed villain-vigilante. And it's nice, even if he's going home to a too cramped one room apartment he could barely even afford without any friends or family to make him think life was worth living.

Something under his skin mourned his life - maybe grieving with him, it was a funny thought considering no one knew who Peter Parker was anymore and anyone who would've had moved on to better things or died.

His chest aches - he pushes it down, he has the funny feeling Mr. Falcon was disappointed in him.

Has a funny feeling several heroes he knows or knew were slightly disappointed in him for some reason, and the thought of them made the gaping void in his chest twinge-

Actually, his chest is aching, painfully, enough that Peter cringes and tries to swing towards a roof to check if he received a wound he hadn't noticed - something like Mr. Dr. Strange panicky and worried about magic as Peter's spidey-sense screams like a Banshee. His hand phases through his web, not misses or is unable to reach, the web phases right through his hand mid-swing and he starts to fall - and fall -

And fall.

New York dusk, a colorful kaleidoscope of faint smog and red-orange-yellow, turns into a darkly dreary cloudy smog filled night, but Peter's head hits concrete and all he knows is unconsciousness.

He doesn't wake up for three days - he doesn't feel as human when he wakes up either.

The first thing he realizes, brain melting out of his ears and his organs humming, is that he's not in New York anymore.

He's not even in the same dimension.

"Um.. Excuse me?" A young, familiar voice whispers to her - a voice she's heard on patrol since she'd been a child, again and again - and it has Barbara already rolling her eyes at Dick's antics before she even knew what they'd be - always a bother and a brother, and great at doing both.

She loved him, she did, too much blood spilt for the other for either of them to ever be anything less than family with one another but she was busy and, unless Dick had coffee and some good news, she wasn't really in the mood for one of his playful 'cheer-up' schemes. Dick would understand, obviously, once she had a chance to explain herself and relax when the livelihoods of others weren't actively hanging over her head but she was wrung thin for the moment.

"Not now, Dick - you know B wants this report tonight." They needed to find the missing teens and they needed to find them quickly, they'd already found too many bodies already. And still no reason as to why, which might bother her just as much as the death toll.

Half of her suspects magic, the other half of her hopes it's just a new killer hoping to make a name - either way Barbara is tired and the deaths are wearing away her conscience.

Barbara expects a gusty sigh, or an audible cringe, something so like Dick that her tension melts away and she, for a moment, is able to relax in the presence of family she knows will look out for her - instead, horrifyingly, she's met with a quietly stuttered out, "Oh.", and she snaps her head up to find the wide-eyed baby-face of a child looking back at her.

One that looks so much like the Dick she grew up with, had worked as Batgirl with, that Barbara feels winded for a few seconds and unable to restart her brain.

"Sorry," The boy starts after an awkward bit of silence, "I didn't - I'm sorry for bothering you." And he goes to turn away, shoulders high and anxious, and she can't let that happen.

"No!" Barbara snaps quickly, cringing at the flinch the boy offers her action in return - god, he was like a skittish pre-teen version of Dick, except his hair and eye-color were wrong - sitting up as straight as she could and plastering on an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry - really - I thought you were a friend of mine named Dick."

There's a dark, ugly purple bruise on the kid's cheek and Barbara feels sort of sick noticing it. And the darker, spotted with irritated red, bruises she can see under the collar of the kid's rough looking shirt that climb up his neck like he had been strangled don't make her feel any better. Something sits, angry, in her gut at both being on a poor kid that looked like Dick got frisky with a brunette without protection - and, well, just a small kid to begin with.

God, had Dick had a secret child? No. That couldn't be...

But maybe he had - Dick had had a wild series of flings when he was eighteen and the kid looked like he was around ten.

If she wanted to stretch it, she could say he was ten through thirteen - or, maybe, fourteen or fifteen but really young looking, but he looked too young to just look young.

"Like Tom, Dick, and Harry?" The kid asks, still tense and awkward but trying to ease himself into a false sense of comfort, offering Barbara a smile that's too much like Dick's it makes her heart squeeze with how out of place the kid looks like he feels.

With how out of place it looks on someone who isn't Dick.

"Exactly, kiddo." Barbara confirms, a flicker of amusement at the boy's disgruntled look stoking a warmth to replace the heaviness in her gut, and she motioned towards the phone on the desk next to her, "A friend of mine said he planned on dropping by soon - since it's so late, I assumed you were him. I've just been so busy with my second job that I didn't realize the person speaking to me didn't have the same voice as my friend - Dick'll have a field day with that, but I'm not going to tell him."

By now, the kid was relaxed - still tense in a way that made her heart ache and something angry and hot want to crawl up her spine, but far more relaxed since she accidentally insulted him. He still looked too much like Dick that her mind was trying to connect the two and was short-circuiting when no leads or explanations came up for her to grapple around with.

Barbara had been there for Dick whenever a pregnancy scare or scam happened to him, knew almost every past flame Dick had as much as she didn't want to, but she knows there had to be an explanation. A piece to the puzzle was missing or she was overlooking something, and she couldn't let the kid leave just yet without a possible answer to her question - for all she knew, some past flame had been severely unhinged and stole a used condom or something, stranger things had happened.

"Now that that's out of the way - sorry, again - what can I help you with?" She smoothly added on, still keeping up her friendly smile to the mini-me of her best friend, "If you're looking for a specific book or curious about what our library has to offer, you can ask me any question you'd like."

Mini-Dick, because he looks so much like him - so terrifyingly identical in a way she nearly thinks cloning at first, but then saw the lighter skin and the warm brown eyes and the dark brown hair and way his jaw curved more upwards instead of staying in Dick's diamond cut - and she doesn't know his name, flushes slightly when he offers her a wider and relieved smile. It's Dick's smile, the way it crinkles a dimple in one cheek and not the other and makes the kid twinge his nose just a little as his eyes squint and his brow-bridge twitches, and it takes Barbara's breath away.

If this kid wasn't Dick's son, she'd fight condiment king in her civilian clothes without a single complaint for a month. Cloning would make the kid more similar to Dick, only minor patches in Dick's genetic code needing to be corrected with someone else's, and even if someone knew that Dick was Nightwing there wasn't anything overly impressive in Dick's DNA to make him worth cloning.

It could be a ploy to get to Bruce, as Batman, but something in the bottom of her lungs told her the kid was too genuine and too skittish to be some sort of plant - Dick's smile altered enough, nose twitching the wrong way and the outer corner of his eyes crinkling more than the inner unlike Dick's that did both equally, the kid could claim it as his own. Alike but different, not a replica but just how the kid was.

"Oh, thanks - I, um, I was wondering where the public computers are?" The kid starts, a tension in his frame leaving in minutiae milliseconds, the shape of Dick's eyes warming like the honey-brown of his irises, "And, uh, if you had anymore of those 'Welcome to Gotham City' pamphlets? A.. Nice lady at the diner nearby said there was one…"

Dick's kid - because it has to be his son, not a brother or cousin or clone when he looks so much like Dick but different too, and so distantly like Dick's parents who she's seen photos of mixed with pieces of some people else - shifts on his feet, small and awkward and wary, and Barbara's heart all but shatters in her chest at the realization the kid is running from something. No one came to Gotham willingly, and never with a good and happy reason either, add in the bruises she can see as plain as day all over the kid -

The tip of a thick scar, jagged and crude, peeks from the collar of his shirt when leans in on himself a little too much - hiding himself, hoping he'd be small enough no one spots him, shifting on his feet silently and waiting to flee, aware of his surroundings but pretending not to be-

Barbara knows a kid in a bad situation when she sees one - she feels like crying at seeing Dick looking so small and wary and scared, even if the kid was pretending he wasn't. Trying to hide his wariness as much as possible instead of focusing on Barbara, a known friend of Dick and the Oracle, pretending he was okay even when he wasn't - either he was a kid who was really just running, the greatest actor she's ever seen, or a kid being used and terrified of it.

He was so tiny, either way.

She could barely breathe, he was too tiny.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[dog-woman]

okay this but imagine it's made by someone who has ever edited a video before and i don't know has any eye for visuals.

house and cuddy and wilson and their whole thing

which is to say, when wilson says he needs you he means he needs us, we need you, you need us, us, us us.

someone do this again but better, please.

[theflyingfeeling]

I think today I will cry about BC not making tour vlogs anymore 😔

[perilegs]

i have 18 inches arriving in the mail tomorrow 🥴

[victorluvsalice]

I told you I hoped to rectify only having the prologue up very soon! So here's the actual Chapter One of "Start At The Beginning...Sort Of," which actually features Alice, Smiler, and Victor, and how they all actually met! :) Hope you enjoy!

[cowboyskeletons]

thinking about my au where after the trial the dads are actually just transported into another universe where jodie was transplanted and they replaced their alt-universe selves.

so there are small details that the kids notice (except for nicholas) that are kinda... off, but it's not big enough of a shift to notice until reminiscing about childhood memories and like it doesn't matter (it does matter but that's only half of the story)

point is that without them, their home universe kinda crumbles, as the narrative is about Them and why even exist if there's no purpose? so everyone kinda just fades away over a short span of time (thinking around a week) as the world loses its flavor.

....buuuut nick's still there.

because the dads are The Dads, right. it's their defining characteristic. they need to have children to be dads (if the child is dead it doesn't matter, just needs to exist in the universe). the children are... kind of like anchors.

so if their children stopped existing, what then? well, it was a simple solution-- they got linked to the new verse kids. done done. new anchor, continued existence, "forever" relevance, hoorah.

only problem is that glenn doesn't have a kid. and he's not a dad anymore. so like, what's the point of his being there? nicholas is technically completely unrelated to him. in the new verse, it's said that he's darryl's friend who's just. there. in-auniverse and in a more meta concept sense, he really shouldn't have been there.

(eventually, glenn won't need an anchor anymore because of the relationship he develops with nicky but for now he needs a weight to assert his existence in the narrative)

erasing him from existence kind of goes against the court ruling because then why all the shenanigans. so he still has an anchor, though the new universe is unaware of it

so nick is still there.

nick is... not fully what he used to be. he seems overall the same, but he's in a sort of... stasis? like the most obvious effect is not aging but there are mental effects too. his and glenn's relationship and place in the world can't really change, so he doesn't.

he's like an ice sculpture now metaphorically-- fading like the rest of the world, but his process is slower because he's connected to glenn and he's still important to the story. he has approximately until the s1 finale until he starts getting into the danger zone. the worlds aren't exactly synced up time-wise, but time shifts and flows and the universes drift so there's never a concrete ratio-- usually worlds sync by story beat but. yea

so he's just wandering the world as it breaks apart. he's the only reason that it's still there, actually-- it becomes weaker as he does, as it loses its purpose completely.

by some chance, nicholas manages to contact nick then Stuff Happens.

cue shenanigans, primarily with nicholas and nick but several other people come into play too like glenn and jodie and morgan

(yes nick still dies in the end but there is Closure with the family okay. can't spell closure without close. do you get it)

[joyfuladorable]

🌻Hiya!🌻

🐦Twitter | 📖AO3 | 🖥️Twitch | 📺YouTube

Call me Sea! (they/them) I'm a Non-Binary Aromantic Asexual Filipino American and Full-Time Library Worker (currently in my late 20s)! In my spare time, I bounce from interest to interest while doodling and writing and exploring different aspects of storytelling. I tend to view things under a queer lens or have fun thinking about what if scenarios. You'll mostly see me posting fanworks, but every once in a blue moon I'll let my original work see the light of day.

I do not take commissions, but I will sometimes ask for doodle requests. DO NOT ask me to create anything that promotes incest, pedophilia, or acts of bigotry (racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc) in any form (Don't Interact with me if you support that stuff either). I also don't create anything NSFW, but I'm usually fine seeing that kinda content (except fetish and heavy gore). I'm Very Fond of hurt/comfort scenarios, familial bonds, and sapphic romance, so absolutely talk to me about that stuff if you wanna!

‼️Important Posts and Tags:

🐢TMNT Fanworks Masterpost

++Rise Casey Sr Lore Masterpost

+++Mikey-centric Fic Rec List for reasons

🐇Oresama Teacher Fanworks Masterpost

🕊️Legendlark Podcast Fanworks Masterpost

#My Art | #My Writing | #My Vid | #Informative Information

📚Book recommendations (just cuz):

Elemental Logic series by Laurie J. Marks

Delicious in Dungeon (manga) by Ryoko Kui

Moomin book series by Tove Jansson

Thirsty Mermaids (GN) and Snapdragon (GN) by Kat Leyh

Across a Field of Starlight (GN) and Meal (GN) by Blue Delliquanti

Witchy (GN series) by Ariel Slamet Ries

Wayfarer series by Becky Chambers

Black Water Sister by Zen Cho

Hakumei & Mikochi (manga) by Takuto Kashiki

Witch Hat Atelier (manga) by Kamome Shirahama

I Think Our Son is Gay (manga) by Okura

Beetle & the Hollowbones (GN) by Aliza Layne

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

The Magic Fish (GN) by Trung Le Nguyen

Machineries of Empire series by Yoon Ha Lee

The Thirty Names of Night by Zeyn Joukhadar

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Our Dreams at Dusk (manga) by Yuki Kamatani

💖Forever interests (in no particular order):

Pokemon

Kingdom Hearts

Digimon

D&D

Legend of Zelda

TMNT

Oresama Teacher

👀Current Fixation(s): TMNT (2k3, Rise, & IDW) I'm very normal about my bestie '03 Mikey and Rise Casey (Sr) and just about every sapphic character in IDW

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[rosykims]

ELSPETH COUSLAND, WARDEN COMMANDER OF THE GREY

There is no Ferelden son or daughter alive who does not know the name Elspeth Cousland. Though still walking amongst us in the world today, feat after impossible feat has elevated the Warden Commander's name to the heights of near myth. Like the Dwarven Paragons, Ser Aveline the chevalier, Dane and the werewolves and beloved heroes of old, the Highever woman known simply as Ella to her friends is regaled by taverkeep and teryn alike for her legendary exploits during the Fifth Blight. [template]

[Except from ‘Faces of the Dragon: Figures of Fame and Notoriety Throughout the Dragon Age’ by Brother Genitivi]  

[arklay]

DANI HAINES x CLAIRE REDFIELD / template.

[funkiesims]

MAC USERS: have you ever figured out a way to use reshade or gshade with your game? information about wether this is possible for either software is extremely conflicting so pls respond if this sounds like you

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[rapono-writes-stuff]

9, 20, 23?

9. Favourite OC?

Oh man, it changes often, but one of the ones that most often holds that spot would be Kerosyne. A human gifted the power of shapeshifting by an eldritch entity, at the height of them being bullied at school. Too young to know better and wanting revenge on those who hurt them, the power corrupted them, and a once kind hearted child grew to be a sadistic villain.

Their design for their main monster form has changed slightly over the years but I enjoy rotating them in my head. Lots of angst potential.

20. What story are you the proudest of? Why?

Man, that's hard to choose. I'm gonna pick two cuz I'm indecisive. Where I don't belong is probably one of my best, and the stats show. That one really helped catapult me into "horror hurt/comfort", and is one I still like to reread often. The other would be Red red red, why am I not dead?, since I managed to spin an intricate plot out of a game that (at the time I originally was writing it) hadn't even been released yet. It's also one of the few I've been brave enough to show my parents (my dad loves it and often bothers me to update it).

23. Are you in any writer/artist groups? (Ex: discord server!)

Technically yes. In a few fandom related ones.

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then, just as Smiler was collecting the eggs (five completely normal decent quality non-hatchable eggs! I was genuinely shocked, given my coop at the time was half roosters) and I was getting Alice up to go help with the chores, I got a notice.

About Alice discovering a fire.

Now, I was utterly baffled at first, as I couldn't find a fire myself anywhere on the lot, despite looking hard. But THEN it finally dawned on me to look on the back porch -- and yup, there was Guidry, doing some more entirely unnecessary herbalism and setting the grill on fire. *facepalm* Alice had her panic attack on the porch before super-speeding out the front door, while Smiler rushed in with the extinguisher and Victor with some Chillio. They got the fire out before it could do more than scorch the grill, but that was IT for me and Guidry! Him occasionally picking up dog poop and repairing turbines is NOT worth THIS! So, a little later on, I popped into build mode and got that special palmistry hand statue that can disable his visits and did just that. Bye-bye Guidry! You will NOT be missed! (I also got Alice her own tripod while I was thinking of it, because need all the fun trio pictures in the future.)

-->Oh, and just to twist the knife slightly? When I looked at the front yard to see how Alice was doing and get her inside for breakfast, I spotted that Victor's cowplant had finally grown up. Meaning I could finally complete his Freelance Botanist aspiration, getting him the Naturalist trait. You know, that trait that, for some reason in this game, makes Sims immune to fire and able to put it out instantly. *facepalm* Five seconds earlier, game! (Though I guess it's my own fault for changing his aspiration around previously and then forgetting to change it back...)

-->After that, though, things calmed down again around the farm. Victor and Alice, being hungry, went and had breakfast, Victor Deliciosoing up some salad while Alice had some choripán after cleaning out all the old plates from the fridge. Smiler, for their part, went out to tend to Moory -- the poor thing was all dirty, so they gave her a good brush, chatted with her, and -- because their relationship was now so good -- tipped her $25 simoleons! Makin' it rain in the rain, as you can see. XD This got Smiler a bottle of enriched milk along with the usual six normal bottles, which apparently helps skill-building after you drink it. Nice. :) I really gotta experiment more with making animal treats and getting special milks -- the bulk food processor allows me to make a couple different flavors of milk, but not every kind!

-->With Moory all set, it was back to the usual chores for the rest of the gang -- Alice got put on "cleaning the chicken coop" duty after I noticed just how badly it was stinking, and Victor of course went back into the greenhouse to help the bots with the tending. Or, well, bot -- I noticed Elmer's battery was looking really low, so Smiler went and deactivated him before taking him to the workbench for a tune-up. I also made sure the cowplant was well-tended -- Alice offered it some meat (which it refused, not being hungry), and Smiler (after finishing robot upgrades and kicking apart some creepy hands) played with it for a bit (a process which was a little unnerving for me, but they both seemed to enjoy it). Smiler then played some chess (getting all the way to Logic level 9) while Alice did the recycling and played with Kelly as Victor finished up his tending and harvesting in the greenhouse...and then, after a quick bathroom break and Smiler making sure to deactivate Bugs...