#I wanted to make my own wally doll for myself and I wanted it to be a little bit bigger than the makeship plush

[wolflover33100aj]

I have already started making a Wally Darling doll!

I only have the body sewn up and I am now moving on to the sewing the head

I have the pins in the head to start sewing

My grandma was teaching me how to sew

[yes-i-have-thoughts]

Day 17: Glass

RSD is hitting like a sunuvabitch so here have this No TW, though let me know if you think something should be tagged and I’ll get on it. Shawn needs glasses but has to be talked into getting a pair. Wally is very, very gay. (Feat. demiboy Wally-)

Shawn wasn't much older than Wally, despite what his appearance may tell you. Even his voice fooled people into mistaking his age-he'd told Wally at one point someone thought he was in his fifties. They could kind of understand why, Shawn generally kept his voice low unless he was stressed out or pissed off. However he's been pissed off a lot more lately. "It's these feckin' dolls," he griped to Wally during their break. "I'm fucking up more than I'm making passable ones. It doesn't help that Mister Drew keeps gettin' angry with me like that's gonna fix anything!" "Have you thought about getting glasses?" Wally suggested. "Maybe they could help with the finer details." If looks could kill, they would be dead. "So people can think I'm even older than I actually am? Not on your life." "I dunno..." Wally casually leaned back in their chair. "I think it'd look pretty swell on ya." "You say that about everythin' I wear," Shawn said in fake exasperation. "Can I help it if it's always true?" That got a smile. Wally grinned. Round one goes to them! "But seriously, Flynn." Wally reached over and took the Irishman's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I don't want you to ruin your eyes for th' sake of some ol' dolls. At least wear 'em during work, then afterwards you can take 'em off and pretend they don't exist, y'know?" "I only see you during work." "All the more reason to get a pair, so you can see me." Shawn laughed at that. (Wally's heart did a backflip at the sound.) "Alright, you win! I'll get a bleedin' pair of glasses!" The sound of someone coming down the stairs into the break room made Wally suddenly realize they had work to do. Quietly apologizing to Shawn, they dropped his hand and grabbed the broom they had abandoned to resume what they were supposed to be doing in the first place-sweeping the floor. Shawn for his part got the hint and left, pausing for a moment on the stairs to watch Wally. The janitor waited until the newcomer to the room had taken a seat before sticking their tongue out at the Irishman, who rolled his eyes and left in "exasperation". The two were pretty happy for the rest of the time left in their respective shifts.

Shawn didn't return to work the next day. The day after, he avoided almost everyone. Wally had to track him down to his office on the lower levels and knocked on the wall to get his attention. "Hey potato sack?" Shawn jumped and turned around, then caught himself and pulled off the glasses first. "Ah-Franks, hey. What're you doing here?" "Put them on again." Shawn looked at the glasses in his hands. Wally leaned against the wall. He seemed to get the hint that they weren't going to leave until he put them on and gave in, albeit reluctantly. He gave the janitor a somewhat frustrated look over the rims. "There. Happy?" That was an understatement. "Flynn-" Wally glanced over their shoulder to see if anyone else was in the room before continuing. "Flynn, they look amazing. YOU look amazing!" "I look like somebody's grandfather," Shawn grumbled. "No, not at all!" "What do you think I look like, then? Tell me." "You, uh...Ya look like..." Their brain was refusing to co-operate. Seeing Shawn with glasses must have knocked a few screws loose. Shaking their head, they tried a different approach. "Ya look like someone...I'd spend th' night with. Like someone who'd let me curl up against them 'n doze off while they're reading. Who'd let me bring home prototype dolls they thought were just passable enough to give out-" "I look like myself, basically," Shawn cut them off. Wally blushed slightly and nodded. "Pr-Pretty much, yeah." Shawn raised and eyebrow and was quiet for a moment, then shook his head with a smile. "It's better than what my own mind was tellin' me." "Do you think I could wear them someday?" "No." "Come on!!"

[organdon3r]

The ink demonth: EVERY. DAY. OF. THE. MONTH. :')

TW//character death, description of body (skeleton), (unspecified) character vomiting

Characters: Sammy Lawrence, Joey Drew, Jack Fain, Norman Polk, Thomas Conner, Shawn Flynn, Alice Angel/Susie, unspecified employees

Mentioned characters: Henry, Susie, Buddy/Daniel, Wally

Word count: 1155

Sentence count: 25

Character count: 6407

Reading level: college (student)

Pride can lead to wealth, it can lead to an amazing family - an amazing life..but sometimes you're so caught up in yourself everything turns twisted, laughing at you in the face; making you watch all those happy moments tear apart on repeat like they're playing on an everlasting reel. All your friends, side by side, staring at you body whilst you're knee deep in your own mistakes.

It's funny how so much can be ruined in so little time, just like the studio. It's like survival for the fittest just a hell lot more difficult..whether you're part of a colossal wonder, or your face is a mystery to many, you are never truly safe..those who died always rise though, that's when their true personalities shine through the veil they wore.

"We've all been waiting, the battle may well have been messy, but trust me..for the smoke that has held us back this far has been taken away..today is the day!"

A figure stood up on the box, a mask hiding his face whilst multiple black creatures - made of ink - surrounded him

"The only god that will be appeased today is my lord..the one who will set us free.."

Let's go back about 30 years, Heavenly toys. Shawn Flynn sat at a stool, a doll of Alice Angel in his hand and a paintbrush in the other.

"Y'see, I don't see the point in these Alice Angel whatchamacallits! Yes she's a nice character, that's all I'll say positive, but they ain't sellin'!"

His Irish accent rang about the room

"It's like we're in this stupid play of Joey's! Trapped inside of a glass box whilst he watches!-..uh..y..yeah?.."

Shawn froze, his own heartbeat was what he thought his ears heard..but it wasn't. That man knew his own beat from the rest, and that wasn't his..a shiver went up his spine as he was almost in a trance; walking towards the room, which was built for Alice Angel, Flynn opened the door and gasped: in the centre of the room was the skeletal body of Alice - her matted black hair covering her face. She hummed a tune which played as soon as the female character was created and voiced.

"A- Alice! You're lookin'..pretty today-..u- uh Alice-?..Aaalic- OH MY GOD!!-"

Shawn screamed as the skeletal, twisted, angel lunged at him - the door slammed shut alerting fellow GENT worker Thomas Conner and a bunch of other Toy department employees. Tom let out a huff as he pushed past the crowd of people, all thinking this place was haunted - I mean, they weren't wrong! As the door creaked open on the floor was the body of Shawn Flynn, ink mixed with blood dripping off of the wall next to the door and the worker's heart missing out of his chest; his eyes lifeless, like his soul had been sucked out of his body. There was an array of mutters, people vomiting and some even ran away in fear; there was the few who stayed quiet and stared whilst the rest started to cry out of shock.

"What kind of sinner would do this!?"

An employee cried out, covering their mouth whilst Thomas stepped into the room - cautiously looking around incase the murderer was still present. Nobody was there..that was until there was a quiet giggle behind the glass - the light turned on as a voice, starting off it was angelic and beautiful.

"I just want to be a beautiful angel…I want to make it to heaven….but..the things I've done aren't redeemable…yet it's all worth it..for beauty!"

The voice, once again, laughed - it danced around the room; hitting all those near. There was an electrical crackle as the power turned out; then the sound of a vent slamming open..and then a scream, the voice similar to Thomas'..and it was: his body flew into the wall, thudding against it. Before the attacker could do anything the lights flickered back on as Joey Drew, the great dreamer, stood in the doorway; at that point everyone finally felt somewhat safe in the light.

Word about the death and attack spread around the studio fast - people trying to work out who the voice belonged to and why they would do it, some thought of Susie but she was too sweet for that!

"WALLACE..FRANKS."

A voice yelled out - bursting out of his office, half covering in ink, his blonde hair now stained black.

The Projectionist, Norman Polk, leant against the border in his projector booth - watching his coworker storm in, throwing his papers on the composing stand

"Pipe burst again Samuel?"

He asked, chuckling at the male who glared at him

"Listen, Lawrence, I'd be careful around Mr Drew - I heard he's been spreading some lies 'bout this being a ^safe haven^ for all employees.."

Sammy rolled his eyes, responding in a snarky tone

"Yeah yeah Norman, I know you think you see the 'full picture' but you don't know the true image..anyways I'm heading into the sewers to get some of these papers to Jack..seeing as Joey's gopher has lost his footing and gotten lost somewhere I have to manage more jobs.."

The man walked off, walking past the surprisingly empty Infirmary and into the sewers. The ink went up to his knees like mud - reaching his musical partner's desk he tapped Jack on the shoulder. The male jumped a little, looking back at Sammy and smiling:

"Oh! Sam! Hey are those for me..? I could've just gotten them myself: I just finished my papers!"

His voice was optimistic and vibrant, poor thing didn't even know what was happening - so Sammy decided to hint at being a little more cautious than he was already

"Listen..Jack, um, if I were you I wouldn't talk to Joey for awhile..just give me the papers… trust me.."

The music director muttered in his friend's ear who, looked completely confused but, nodded

"Yeah, okay Sam, whatever ya say pal!..eh, seeing as you offered I got these to take to Bossman - mind if you-?"

Samuel smiled, but didn't answer, instead he took the papers - no questions asked.

Getting out of the sewers he struggled to do yet trying to get to Joey's office was more of a struggle: the administration office is a maze and of course Mr Drew's had to be in the heart of it! By the time Lawrence had made it he was exhausted, still he opened the door - straightening himself up

"Hhh..Mr...Drew?"

He looked around the office, before bumping into Joey who shoved a book into his hands; the music director stumbled back, shifting the papers to one hand and putting the book in his other

"Sir..what is this..?"

Joey laughed - taking the papers from Sammy, each page noting on each employee. Himself, Joey, Henry, Buddy, Susie…it went on and on!

"THAT, my dear Lawrence…is the illusion of living

AAAAHHH

Two days this took (surprisingly)

But I'm proud of it!

Yes, there's a lot of moving around but I'm happy!

(Ink demonth hosted by @halfusek)

[notyetneedcoffee]

Call me what?

Part of the Calling Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Loads of lovely smut!

Your meeting with the virologists wanting Stark’s lab to consult on their project ran late. You insisted on more information than they’d prepared, but they surprised you by being able to provide it quickly and efficiently. So, taking the time to review it seemed only fair. It proved promising enough to warrant a second meeting.  

However, now you were running late to one of Stark’s meet and greet cocktail parties at the New York Avenger’s Tower to keep all the government types happy and on a first name basis with the team. He insisted that all the team members attend, saying nothing greases the wheels like a joke and good martini. Steve insisted that everyone go, because it was important to humanize the team and earn trust. They were both right.  

Just as you shut the door of the town car, your phone rang. “Hey, handsome.”

“I hate these things.” Bucky’s voice rumbled low. He obviously didn’t want those around him to hear.  

“I know.” You settled back into the leather seat. Your words were sympathetic, but your voice teased. “All those stupid questions. All those ridiculous officials. And Steve would be so cross if you got them all bloody.”

“Doll, you know me so well.” You could hear the smile in his voice.  

“Yeah, well, I like to pay attention.” The lights of city crawled passed. The traffic moved slow as so many left work.  

“How long before you get here? I don’t know how long I can last.”  

“Traffic isn’t too bad. I think another five or ten minutes before I get to the Tower.” You looked down at yourself. “I think I’ll be okay without changing clothes.”

“You always look gorgeous.” Bucky answered immediately, but with complete sincerity.  

Before you could dismiss his comment, you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. “Thank you, Buck. You always know how to make me feel good.”

“Just being honest.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But, ah, just out of curiosity, what are you wearing?”

“That little black wrap dress you like so much.” You grinned, knowing that wasn’t what he meant.

“And...?” He drew out the question.

“Really sexy four-inch high Farragamo’s.”

“Doll.” He whined.

“And the red strappy set you bought me last week.” You purred.

“Oh yes,” He groaned quietly. “I want to pull that thing apart with my teeth.”

You rubbed your thighs together at the thought. “Well, you’ll have to be good tonight.”

“Oh, I will be very, very good.” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave and you practically melted into your seat. He knew exactly how to push your buttons. “I’ll be good again and again.”

“Can’t wait.” You breathed.

“Hurry.” He breathed. “The sooner you get here, the soon we can bail, and sooner I can hold you down and rip that pretty red set to shreds.”

“Really now?” You shifted in your seat, picturing it in your mind.  

“Mm-hm.” He chuckled wickedly. “After being so good here, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself. I can already taste you on my tongue. Having to hide out in this corner, I’m so hard just thinking about it. You wet for me, Doll?”

“You know that I am.”  

“l think you should check. Slip those fingers into that wet pussy for me.” He demanded.

“Bucky.”

“The driver can’t see through the screen. Do it. When you get here, I want to kiss your fingers and taste you. Go on, Doll. Touch your pretty pussy for me.”  

In the darkness of the back seat, you uncrossed your legs and let your hand slip up your skirt. You were soaking. A small whimper escaped your mouth as your fingers picked up the slickness and rubbed your clit.

“Oh,” Bucky purred. “You’re such a good girl.”  

“Buck.” You sighed.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Doll.”

“Doctor,” The driver spoke clearly. “Would you prefer to be dropped at the front door or down in the garage?”

You quickly straightened. “Um, ah, whatever is faster. Thank you.” You could hear Bucky chuckle. “Knock it off, you’re so bad.”

“You love it.”

“I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Can’t wait.”

The buzz of conversation and music assaulted you as the elevator doors opened on the Penthouse Lounge. As you made your way into the room, Pepper spotted you almost immediately gave you a little nod without pausing her conversation with someone you thought might be someone from the mayor’s office.  

“Glad you could join us?” Sam’s voice drifted over your left shoulder. His hand came around, offering you a glass with whiskey on the rocks. You glanced at him, eyebrow arched. “Saw you coming. Figured you might need to get a quick one under your belt.”

“Fun night, huh?” You took a drink of the Woodford Reserve.  

“Not really.” Sam shrugged. “Tony is still relatively sober. No one has stormed out. Bucky hasn’t hit anyone. Dull as could be.” You chuckled, but Sam went a little serious. “Actually, your boy is on edge. There’s a pencil-dick over there with the whole fire and brimstone vibe. He’s been trying to ask everyone if Bucky is truly ‘repentant’.”

“Seriously?” You frowned, downing the other half of your drink. “Who the hell is he?”

“I think he’s some National Security Deputy Kiss-Ass.” Sam grumbled.  

“Thanks for the drink, Sam.” You handed him the empty glass. “I’m going to find him.”

“Anytime, doc.” He kissed your cheek. “And that dress is smokin’.”  

You grinned and began to weave your way through the crowd, easily spotting Bucky and Steve across the room. Steve saw you coming, his serious expression morphing into a bright smile. Ah, you thought, this should be fun. Creepy dick guy was taking to your boys. At Steve’s smile, they all turned to see your purposeful walk in their direction.  

Relief filled Bucky’s eyes.  

Without hesitation you walked straight up to Bucky, cupping his cheeks in both hands and kissing him. Your tongue slid over his lower lip and he instinctively opened to you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close and bending you back.  

His lips pulled away just a bit. “Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Handsome.” You smiled against his lips. Steve cleared his throat. Without moving you added, “Hiya, Steve.”

Bucky chuckled and stood you up straight. He caught your right hand in his left, bringing it to his mouth to kiss your fingers. Only you noticed the deep breath he drew in through his nose, or the twinkle in his eye. “Glad you finally got here.”

“Me, too.”

“And this is?” The man had a gravely voice, like he smoked two packs a day. He didn’t smell like it. However, he did look at you as if smelling something foul.  

“Sorry,” Steve gave a tight smile. “Wallace Flanigan, this is Dr. Y/L/N,”  

You provided him with a smile, but did not offer a hand.  

“Doctor?”  

“Yes.” Steve smiled. “She’s one of Stark’s top research doctors and consults for some the world’s leading public health agencies.”  

“Truly? Well, I understand why you would keep your maiden name.” He commented.

Bucky’s fingers tightened in yours.  

Leaning back against his chest, you pulled your entwined hands so Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist. It placed you physically between them. Forcing yourself to appear relaxed, you smiled. “You misunderstand, Mr. Flanigan. I’m the Sergeant’s lover, not his wife.”  

Somehow the man’s back straightened even more.  

Plastering a fake look of innocence on your face, you continued. “But I suppose it’s flattering that you would assume, if we were married, I would not take his name in order to maintain a professional name of my own. I mean, considering his name is so highly renowned.”

Steve smirked into his bottle of beer, staring over your shoulder. He obviously was sharing a look with Buck.  

“It’s true he has a reputation.” Flanigan growled.

“More than one.” You gave a genuine giggle. “Now, I’ve just arrived and I’d like to steal my man away for a few minutes, if that’s alright?”

“See you later.” Steve fought not to laugh.  

You turned in Bucky’s embrace. “Buy me a free drink?”

“Anything you want.” His blue eyes locked on to yours with hot intensity. Bucky glanced at Steve, then the other man, “Excuse us.”

Bucky’s arm around your waist held you close as he led you away, toward the bar. You hand slipped under his suit jacket to rest on his lower back. “Well that was fun.”  

He paused, his lips pressing against your temple. You could hear the laughter in his quiet voice. “That was fucking amazing.”

Clint lifted a hand and the two of you made your way to where he and Sam leaned against the bar. Barton waved two fingers at the bartender, who quickly arrived with two more drinks.  “Okay, who made Wally’s head explode?”

“What?” Bucky frowned, letting you go only long enough to hand you the drink.  

“The two of you had your backs to us. Pencil-dick looked like he was going to have a stroke and I know that look on Rogers. He was trying really hard not to laugh. Which one of you is to blame?” Sam smiled.

“That’s all her.” Bucky grinned. “Set that fucker straight, smiling the whole time.”

“Hey, I just corrected him and said I was your lover not your wife. I could have said I was your fuck toy.”

Barton choked. Sam barked a laugh.  

Bucky’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his head shaking. “Naughty girl.”

You offered him your hand, in an old fashion gesture. “But, sir, you love it.”

He took your hand, bowing his head and kissing your fingers. His tongue lightly touching your skin hyper-sensitive senses kicking into overdrive at the scent of your sex. “That I do, beautiful lady.”

“Saps.” Sam mumbled.  

You happily shared the silent secret of just how naughty you’d been with those fingers just before arriving at the party. “Buck, can we get some air?”

“Sounds good. Guys.” He nodded and followed you out onto the balcony. The cool night air swirl about, lifting the hem of your dress a bit, making him smile. He set his nearly full beer beside yours on the table just outside the door before following you to the railing.  

“Look really sexy in that suit.” You purred, as your hands slid around his waist.  

His palms ghosts over the silky fabric covering your breasts, feeling the hardness of your nipples. Bucky’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips. The cool fingertips of his left hand ran along neck of dress, petting the flesh of your cleavage. “Jesus, I want to rip this open.”

You leaned forward, tipping your face up. Bucky’s mouth covered yours, drinking in your kiss. The heat of his body stood in stark contrast to the cold night air. His left hand moved up to tangle in your hair.  Teeth nipped your lower lip, sending a shiver straight to your cunt.

“Can we get out of here?” You breathed.  

“Yeah,” Bucky looked around, before pulling you to the opposite balcony door. Just inside a door led to a service hallway, clear of the party. A cart full of used glasses waited, but the hall was otherwise empty. He tugged you close, hand digging into your ass as he brutally kissed you again.  

Just as your leg came up to his hip, you heard a little squeak and a “sorry”. You giggled against Bucky’s lips. He growled and pulled away. Taking your hand, he strode down the hall again.  

In the elevator, you tugged his tie loose and let it hang around his neck. Bucky stared as you deftly unbuttoned his shirt, you only got three buttons undone before the doors opened again. Moments later the two of you stumbled into your suite, arms wrapped around each other, mouths licking and nipping.  

“Finally.” Bucky grinned wickedly. He pulled the tie at your waist, allowing the wrap dress to fall open. He licked his lip as you pushed it off your shoulders to expose the red set underneath. The lace and thin straps perfectly constructed to hold you in place. “Hell, yes.”

Standing there in barely anything while Bucky remained fully dressed, staring at you with hunger, felt incredibly hot. You turned, strutting in your heels, ass swaying, towards the bed. A low strangled noise came from Bucky.

Before you made it to the bed, Bucky rushed you, wrapping you in his strong arms. He kissed you, hard and powerful. His tongue swept along yours, pulling a mewl from your throat. The cool metal fingers of his hand dug into the meat of your ass to pull you tight against his hard need.  

Bending forward, Bucky’s hot wet mouth clasped over your nipple. His hand squeeze your flesh. Teeth grazed at your nipple, soaking the lace of your bra. Demanding, powerful. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling. Breathing deep, filling his head with the scent of your need, he bit down and pulled at the fabric. His fingers tearing at the sides, the bra tore apart.  

You gave a little squeal as he tossed you on the bed. The look of feral desire upon his face created a flame of he between your legs. You felt your cunt clutch, knew you were dripping with need. His tongue slipped out, tracing along his lower lip, as your legs fell open.  

Bucky tossed his jacket aside, removed his belt and untucked his shirt. You watched as he slowly rolled up his sleeves. Fuck, that might just be sexier than him just taking the thing off. You practically whimpered. Your reaction did not go unnoticed.  

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wicked smirk.  

Bucky put a knee on the bed. He took your ankle in hand, lifting your foot and trailing a wet line to your inner thigh. His face rubbed against your silk covered mound, breath hot, whiskers making you shiver. His mouth covered you, tasting how you soaked through material. He growled as his teeth gentle scrapped over your sex.  

You clutched the bedcovers. Fire flooded to your core. “Oh shit, Buck.”

His dark and rich chuckled made you shiver again. His fingers slid aside your panties, teasing your sensitive flesh. Slipping fingers in deep, he stroked.  

“Such a pretty little pussy.” Bucky’s voice rumbled over you flesh. His fingers pulling moans from your throat. He leaned closer, sucking on your clit. “Taste so good.” You whined. He rose up enough to watch your face, to capture you in his gaze. His strong fingers stroked hard and fast. “Love to watch you come all over me.” Your body tensed, coiled. “Love it. Then I’m going fuck you hard.” You began to shake. “Gonna fill you up.” You snapped, heat flared, nerves on fire, as you came over his hand.  

Wet and sloppy, he still stroked you. As you writhed and panted as he held you down. “Yes, beautiful, Doll. Fuck, yes.”

You felt the panties tear. Bucky flipped you over, pulling your ass to him. The tip of cock slid over once, twice, before plunging into you deep. You cried out. Buck growled. One hand digging into your hip, the other on your shoulder, he slammed into you fast and hard.  

Glancing over your shoulder, he still wore his clothes, just freed his cock. “Oh, shit. Bucky. So fucking good.”

He pulled you up, arching your back. Buck wrapped his hand around your throat, turning your head toward the dressing mirror across the room. “You like that? The look of me fucking wrecking you.”

In the mirror you saw yourself, naked and flushed, bent back as Bucky pounded into you. He stood one knee on the bed, one on the floor, dressed. His powerful forearms and hands molding you to his need. Face intense, Bucky stared back at you in the mirror.  

“Answer me.” His hips pumped hard.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” Your body clenched at him, so close to coming again. Your hand slid to your clit.  

Bucky sped up, the force nearly knocking the breath from you. You gasped a choked cry as your orgasm crashed violently over you. His chant of “yes, fuck, yes” turned into a growl. He emptied himself, holding you against him tight.  

His arms were around your upper chest and your waist. You held his arms against you as your breath began to return to normal. His nose nuzzled into your hair, just behind your ear. “God, you’re amazing.”  

“Best fuck toy ever, huh?” You sighed, head lolling to the side to submit to his kissed.  

A lazy chuckle shook him. “Doll, you are one of kind and I am one lucky son of bitch.”  

Joy mingled with sated happiness. “I’ll take that.”

TAGS

@acf2510​ / @asiaaisa77​ / @badassbaker​ / @bangtan-serendipity / @beautifullungs / @buchanansebba  / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @cashewsaremyfavourite / @daughterofthenight117 / @dawnlaufeyson / @dsakita / @geeksareunique / @the-omni-princess / @imma-new-soul​ /@jesseswartzwelder / @josie605 / @kiki5283 / @ladifreakingda / @lbouvet / @lovely-lollipops-blog / @messenough / @michelehansel / @mindtravelsx / @morganhoran1671 / @night-cereus / @notyourtypicalrose / @rainbowkisses31 / @readermia / @rynabarnesrogers / @sammghgecko / @scarlettsoldier / @sebbysstangirl / @sexyvixen7 / @sllooney / @theneuropsychwriter / @the-omni-princess / @the-reading-octopus / @thorfanficwriter / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @vanillabunn21 / @wildmoonflower / @wwe-fanfiction-queen /

[longitudinalwaveme]

Power Outage

The Flash stars in: Power Outage

Dramatis Personae

The Flash (Jay Garrick), the wise, benevolent hero of Central City

Joan Garrick, Jay’s intelligent, charming wife

Captain Cold, the earthy, practical leader of the Rogues and Central City’s worst villain

Golden Glider, a thrill-seeking, deceptively charming thief and little sister of the above

Weather Wizard, a lazy, dimwitted crook who works with Captain Cold

Script

Act I

(Enter Jay and Joan)

Joan: Honey, I’m worried about you.

Jay: Why? Any particular reason?

Joan: I don’t like how you’ve decided to protect Central City all by yourself while Barry and Wally go on vacation together for two weeks. You’re not as young as you used to be, you know, and I don’t want you to get hurt chasing down supervillains who are half your age.

Jay: Why didn’t you tell me that earlier, honey?

Joan: Well, Barry and Wally seemed so excited to be able to get away for awhile, and you seemed so happy to have a chance to come out of retirement, so I was afraid I would disappoint you if I said anything about it.

Jay: Joan, you know me better than that. Sure, I do love a little crime fighting, but that’s not nearly as important to me as you are. If I’d known that you were that worried about me, I would never have agreed to come out of retirement.

Joan: Well, it’s too late for you to change your mind now-Barry and Wally are already halfway to England, and you can’t leave the city unprotected.

Jay: I’ll be careful, Joan.

Joan: Oh, I know you will, dear. You couldn’t have survived this long as a hero if you hadn’t.

Jay: And you’re sure you’re okay if I go out?

Joan: I suppose. I just worry about you.

Jay: I know, and that’s why I’m so careful. I know that you’re waiting for me, so I can’t take any unnecessary risks. I can’t bear the idea of my dying and leaving you all alone.

Joan: Oh, Jay, I don’t worry about you because I don’t want to be alone-I worry about you because I don’t want you to be hurt.

Jay: Every hero risks that, Joan. It’s part of the job.

Joan: I know, but you’re just so athletic and you love to run. I’d hate to see you get injured and lose your ability to exercise.

Jay: Have I ever mentioned that I’m blessed to have you for my wife?

Joan: Every day, dear, every day-and I’m blessed to have you for my husband.

Jay: Thank you, darling. I love you so much.

Joan: I love you, too.

(Jay and Joan kiss, then Jay’s phone rings and he pulls it out)

Jay: Hello? Hello, Commissioner. Yes, I am filling in for Barry and Wally while they’re on vacation. Yes, I’ll be at work protecting the city soon. Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Yes, I’m sure I’m still up to the task. I may be old, but I’m as fast as ever. Oh, it’s no problem, Commissioner. I love Central City-I certainly don’t mind protecting it. Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t need any money. Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Tell your wife happy birthday for me. I’ll be sending her flowers soon. And send Officer Johnson my condolences. No one should lose their wife that way. Mm-hmm. Uh-huh. All right, Commissioner. I’ll be watching for them. Okay. Okay. Good-bye. (Jay puts phone away)

Joan: What did the Commissioner tell you?

Jay: He was just checking to make sure that I was ready to protect the city-and to warn me that Captain Cold broke the Golden Glider out of jail, and that they and the Weather Wizard are on the loose.

Joan: Captain Cold and Weather Wizard I remember, but who is Golden Glider?

Jay: If I recall correctly, her name is Lisa Snart. She’s a former ice skater who apparently got bored with her career and decided to turn to crime-and she’s Captain Cold’s little sister.

Joan: A supervillain who’s a woman? Why, I never!

Jay: Villany isn’t exclusively the department of men, you know.

Joan: I suppose that’s true. How dangerous are they?

Jay: It’s hard to say, but since Captain Cold likes to avoid attention, they’re unlikely to try anything too diabolical.

Joan: Well, that’s one good thing, I suppose.

Jay: Agreed. (Pause)  Well, I’d better get going. Love you, Joan.

Joan: I love you, Jay. Good luck!

Jay: Thank you. Good-bye, dear.

Joan: Good-bye, darling. (Exit Jay) I hope Jay knows what he’s getting into. He’s been retired for a long time, and those villains are young enough to be our children. If he gets himself into trouble, I’ll never forgive myself. (Pause) Well, standing around here and worrying isn’t going to change a thing, so I might as well start making some plans of my own!

Act II

(Enter Captain Cold and Golden Glider. Weather Wizard is asleep onstage, and a doll and a large necklace are sitting next to him)

Cold: Stop trying to peek, sis. You’ll ruin the surprise!

Glider: I’m not peeking!

Cold: Oh, what the heck, go ahead and look.  

Glider: (Sees presents) Oh my gosh! Lenny, you didn’t!

Cold: Happy birthday, sis.

Glider: (grabs the necklace) How did you afford this? It’s beautiful!

Cold: Uh….about that….

Glider: You stole it for me, didn’t you?

Cold: No! I robbed a bank and used the money to buy it.

Glider: How come the Flash didn’t stop you?

Cold: I got lucky, I guess.

Glider: (Picks up doll) And what would this be? Cold: You don’t recognize that?

Glider: No. Am I supposed to?

Cold: Seriously? You asked for that for your birthday and Christmas like every year!

Glider: I did?

Cold: Uh-huh. Don’t you remember? When I couldn’t find it for your sixth birthday, you cried for like ten minutes and then Lewis beat the living daylights out of both of us because you woke him up.

Glider: Lewis beat the living daylights out of us on like every one of my birthdays. That doesn’t narrow things down much.

Cold: It’s still got the tag on it. Maybe that’ll help you remember.

Glider: (Reads) “Lucy”. (Pause; laughs) Lucy? The doll I was obsessed with as a kid? But she went off the shelves when I was eight years old. How did you find this one?

Cold: Well, I’ve been scouring garage sales and thrift stores and stuff for the thing around your birthday every year since you were eight. The odds were in favor of me finding one eventually, especially given how popular the thing was when you were little, and I finally found this one two weeks ago at that creepy Goodwill downtown.

Glider: Are you telling me that you’ve been trying to find this doll for me for 25 years ?

Cold: Of course. Given how much misery the stupid thing caused for both of us, I couldn’t’ve lived with myself if I hadn’t.

Glider: So even though, in the same general time period, you’ve given me 4 different cars, several dozen necklaces, and several thousand dollars in cash, you still felt obligated to get me a doll that I wanted when I was eight just because you couldn’t get me it then?

Cold: Well, yeah. Don’t you remember that I promised you I would get it for you someday?

Glider: Vaguely.

Cold: Well, I finally did! Don’t you like it?

Glider: No. (Cold looks upset, then she hugs him) But I do like you, Lenny.  I’m glad you think so much about me. You’re the best big brother in the world.

Cold: Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. I didn’t break you out of prison just to celebrate your birthday, you know.

Glider: Ooh, do you have a heist planned?

Cold: You’d better believe it, sis.

Glider: Hurrah! This day just keeps getting better and better! What’s the angle?

Cold: I’ll tell you as soon as I wake up Mardon.

Glider: What’s he doing here? Didn’t he win the lottery or something?

Cold:  He did, but now he’s broke-again-and needs a place to stay. Again.

Glider: There’s a shock.

Cold: (To Wizard) Yo, Mardon, look alive! We’ve got a job to pull! (Wizard doesn’t respond. Cold throws a pillow at his head)

Wizard: What time is it?

Cold: It’s two in the afternoon, you lazy bum. Get up- we’ve got a job to do.

Wizard: But I’m still tired, Cold! I just spent two weeks without a roof over my head!

Cold: Yeah, because you spent all your cash on parties, gambling, and cars you couldn’t afford. Again.

Wizard: I was doing it to impress my new friends!

Cold: The friends who skipped town as soon as you ran out of money?

Wizard: Yeah.

Cold: I rest my case. Honestly, Mardon, why I bother to keep you around is beyond me.

Wizard: Because of my charming personality and dashing good looks?

Glider: Definitely not that.

Cold: It’s because you have a wand that can control the weather, you doofus!

Wizard: Uh, about that. I may have accidentally kind of broken the wand a couple days ago.

Cold: HOW?

Wizard: Well, I was robbing a gas station when the thunderstorm I created to short out the power grid got a little out of control. I got struck by my own lightning, and the wand flew out of my hand and into a tree and snapped in half. And, uh, I didn’t even actually manage to rob the gas station, because when the wand broke, the thunderstorm cleared up before it could take out the power. Well, that and I was still recovering from the whole getting struck by lightning thing. So yeah. No more weather powers.

Cold: Can’t you just-you know-fix the wand?

Wizard: No. I don’t know how it works!

Cold: What do you mean you don’t know how it works? You’ve been using it for like 14 years!

Wizard: I stole it from Clyde, remember? He’s the one who built it! I don’t have a clue how he made it or how it actually produces its effects- I just know it works. Er, worked.

Cold: Clyde?

Wizard: You know, Clyde! My older brother who was better than me at everything!

Cold: Okay, then we’ll just ask him to fix it.

Wizard: We can’t. He’s dead, and he was kind of a recluse, so it’s not like he had any partners who were watching him build the thing.

Cold: Are you telling me that your wand is permanently broken?

Wizard: Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.

Cold: Well, that’s just great. Now I’m going to have to change my plans, and it’s all because the man who had the most powerful weapon in the world was enough of a brain-dead moron to both never learn how the thing worked and to break it!

Glider: And on his little sister’s birthday, too!

Cold: Yeah, and on her birthday, too!

Wizard: Sorry?

Cold: You know what? If you don’t have your wand, then you’re useless to me.

Wizard: You’re kicking me out?

Cold: Not yet. You’re one of us, after all-but you aren’t getting a cent from our heists until you figure out a way to either fix the wand or provide some other asset to them, and if you can’t do that in a month, then you’ll have to find someone else’s basement to live in. I ain’t running no charity here, Mardon.

Wizard: Are you saying I’m not a good thief without my wand?

Cold: No, I’m saying that you were a mediocre thief with the wand and that you are a terrible one without it. Powers or no powers, you’re pathetic.

Wizard: Nobody talks to the Weather Wizard like that! Nobody! (Punches at Cold. Cold catches his punch, and then Glider knees Wizard in the abdomen. Wizard falls to the ground and Cold “freezes” his left leg to the ground with his gun.)

Cold: Well, maybe no one talks to the Weather Wizard like that, but until or if you fix the wand, you aren’t the Weather Wizard, you’re just Mark Mardon.

Glider: And we can talk to an idiot like Mark like that all we want.

Cold: See you after the heist, loser.

(Exit both)

Wizard: (Breaks ice on leg and sits up) How can this be happening to me? A month ago, I was a millionaire and the most powerful crook in the world, and now look at me. I’m broke and my wand is broke and now Cold says I ain’t even the Weather Wizard anymore. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was right about me bein’ a pathetic idiot. (Pause) Oh, who am I kidding? They’re right. Without the wand, I’m nothin’ more than stupid, pathetic Mark Mardon. (Pause) I need a drink or something. Anything would be better than sitting around thinking about how bad my luck’s been lately-or working to try and fix the wand!

Act III

(Wizard is sitting at the bar of a restaurant. Enter Joan)

Joan: Nothing like a nice cup of coffee to take my mind off my worries. (To Weather Wizard) Excuse me, sir, but is this seat taken?

Wizard: Huh?

Joan: I was wondering if this seat was taken.

Wizard: It’s not.

Joan: All right, then. (Sits down next to him) I’m Joan Garrick. Who are you?

Wizard: Name’s Mark. Mark Mardon.

Joan: Are you here by yourself?

Wizard: Yeah. You?

Joan: Well, I normally come here with my husband, but today I’m alone, too.

Wizard: Why? You have a fight with him or something?

Joan: No. He’s just filling in for some friends at work today.

Wizard: Are all your other friends busy, too?

Joan: No. As a matter of fact, after I eat lunch here, I’m going to my friend Betsy’s house to help her sew some clothing for her latest grandchild.

Wizard: Boy or girl?

Joan: Girl. Her name is Maria, and she’s only a month old.

Wizard: Is she cute?

Joan: All babies are cute, Mr. Mardon-just like all brides are beautiful.

Wizard: Not according to my baby pictures!

Joan: Oh, hush! (Pause) So, why are you here alone?

Wizard: Trust me, it’s not by choice. I can’t stand being alone without my power.

Joan: Have you fallen on hard times, then?

Wizard: Yeah. I’m pretty much broke, and my friends have made it pretty clear that they won’t give me any money until I can help them, which I can’t.

Joan: Are you sure these people are your friends?

Wizard: (Shrugs) They haven’t kicked me to the curb yet.

Joan: Don’t you have your own home?

Wizard: Not any more!

Joan: Oh, dear, you are in a mess, aren’t you?

Wizard: No duh, lady.

Joan: Is there anything I can do to help?

Wizard: Not unless you’re a millionaire.

Joan: No such luck, I’m afraid.

Wizard: Too bad. I could use that money. (Pause) You always start conversations with random strangers in restaurants?

Joan: No. You just seemed to need some company, and since I was alone, I decided to provide it.

Wizard: Why? There’s nothing all that special about me-at least not the way I am now.

Joan: Because I know how it feels to be lonely. My husband is wonderful, but he’s also very busy, so I spent a lot of time by myself before he retired.

Wizard: Why do you love him so much if he spends so much time away from you?

Joan: Because he’s a good man who sacrifices himself for me. The least I can do is make sacrifices for him in return. After all, a big part of love is being willing to sacrifice your own desires for the people that you love.

Wizard: That sounds like an awful lot of work, lady.

Joan: Sometimes it can feel like it, I’m afraid-but it’s worth it to experience genuine love.

Wizard: I think I’ll pass.

Joan: How can you say that? Haven’t you ever loved anyone?

Wizard: No-and no one’s ever loved me, either, except maybe my older brother, Clyde-and that was only ‘cause he felt bad for me.

Joan: Felt bad for you-why?

Wizard: Because I was a lazy bum right from the start, that’s why. No ambition-not that there would’ve been much of a point in trying, what with Clyde bein’ a genius and a great athlete and all. Even if I had decided to try, Mom and Pop would’ve liked him better, ‘cause I never coulda been as good as he was. The only thing I was ever good at was getting lucky.

Joan: You sound almost proud of yourself for that!

Wizard: Well, it beats feeling terrible about myself.

Joan: Not if it keeps you from improving yourself.

Wizard: Now you sound like Clyde.

Joan: Well, in that case, I would suggest that you listen to your brother on occasion.

Wizard: I can’t. He’s dead now.

Joan: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.

Wizard: Don’t be. It was a while ago, and I was never real close to him anyway. He was too perfect.

Joan: Aren’t you close to anyone?

Wizard: No one I don’t work with.

Joan: Well, if you don’t mind, I plan to fix that.

Wizard: But you don’t know anything about me!

Joan: I know that you have a dead brother, some questionable friends, and a somewhat self-destructive lifestyle.

Wizard: Oh, believe me, you don’t know the half of it.

Joan: And I won’t pry. Are you up for continuing the conversation?

Wizard: I guess. (Pause) You are the weirdest woman I’ve ever met.

Joan: I know-but I’d like to think I make decent company anyway.

Wizard: You’re better company than my partners, at least.

Joan: That’s always nice to hear. So, is there anything you particularly like to eat?

Act IV

(Enter Cold and Glider)

Cold: Okay, sis, I’ve taken out the alarms. Are you ready for the biggest heist of our career?

Glider: You bet, Lenny! This is so exciting!

Cold: And you’re sure you’re not mad about us doing this on your birthday?

Glider: Of course not! In fact, I can’t think of a way I’d rather be spending my day.

Cold: (Aside) I could think of several ways I’d rather see her spending her day, but if this makes her happy, I can’t refuse her. (To Glider) I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Now let’s move!

(Enter Jay Garrick)

Jay: Stop in the name of the law!

Cold: Well, well, well. Look who it is. It’s Grandpa Flash. Aren’t you retired?

Jay: As long as criminals like you are roaming the streets, I’ll never be truly retired.

Glider: Wow. You sound like a really bad Saturday morning cartoon show.

Jay: Perhaps that line was a bit hackneyed, but then again, so are supervillainous bank robberies. It’s not like the two of you invented that idea, you know.

Glider: No, we just perfected it.

Jay: I’ll give you one chance to surrender peacefully.

Cold: And I’ll give you the same chance, Grandpa Flash. I don’t particularly want to beat up an old man like you.

Jay: Old or not, I would never surrender to a criminal.

Glider: Okay then, Grandpa-let’s dance!

(Starts “skating” around him)

Jay: (Knocks her down) I don’t dance with anyone but Joan, miss.

Cold: Leave her alone, old man! (Shoots at Jay and misses)

Jay: You’re good, son. It’s quite a pity you decided to waste your talents on crime.

Cold: Don’t call me son! (Shoots wildly and misses badly)

Glider: (Gets back on her feet and tries to hit Jay from behind, but he catches her punch) Let me go, you old geezer!

Jay: Sorry, daughter. I’m afraid that’s a no can do. You’ve violated the laws of our fair nation, and you must pay the penalty for your actions.

Glider: (Aside) Is this guy for real? (Breaks Jay’s hold) Only if you can keep ahold of me! (Captain Cold finally manages to hit Jay while Jay is attempting to recapture his sister)

Jay: Nice try, son, but I’ve gotten out of worse traps than this before! (He breaks free)

Cold: DON’T CALL ME SON! (Starts shooting wildly again as Glider begins to enter the bank)

Jay: (Dodges Cold’s blasts and grabs Glider) Oh, no, you don’t, child.

Glider: (Steps on his foot; Jay screams and releases her) Oh, yes, I do.

Jay: (Aside) As much as I hate to admit it, Joan’s worries may be more valid than I wanted to admit. These younger villains are wearing me down pretty well. (Manages to grab the Glider again, only for both to be hit by a wild shot from Cold, who runs over and smashes the ice around his sister. Jay vibrates free a few seconds later, but both villains have moved out of his way in the meantime)

Glider: (Aside to Cold) How is it possible that this old guy is harder to fight than the other two?

Cold: (Aside to Glider) Never mind that-just get into the bank! (He starts shooting again and Glider moves towards the bank, only to be stopped for the second time by our hero. Cold stops shooting when this happens to avoid hitting his sister again)

Glider: We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Grandpa.

Jay: Well, if all goes as planned, child, you won’t be meeting me for several years.

Glider: Why do you keep calling me child? I’m your enemy, not some dopey little kid.

Jay: Force of habit, I’m afraid. After all, you and your brother are young enough to be my children-though I would have raised my children to have better manners.

Cold: SHUT UP, FLASH! (He rushes at Jay, who dodges him, manages to keep a hold on Glider, and then handcuffs both of them)

Glider: Well, this is turning out to be a lousy birthday!

Jay: It’s your birthday?

Glider: Yeah.

Jay: Then I am sorry that you and your brother were foolish enough to break the law on it, child.

Cold: Stop calling her that.

Jay: Why? It’s not an insult.

Cold: It’s what Lewis used to call her. If that’s not an insult, I don’t know what is.

Jay: Who?

Cold: Our “father”. He treated us like trash. If that’s being someone’s child, I’d rather die.

Jay: (Aside) So that’s why he kept-pardon the horrible pun-losing his cool. When I called him son, it seems I was bringing back some ugly memories. (To Cold) Very well, then. I’ll stop calling her child.

Cold: Good. No one upsets my baby sister.

Glider: Before you take me away, old man, would you mind bringing me something real quick? It was the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.

Jay: I’m afraid I don’t trust you two enough to leave you alone here. If you want to see it, I’ll have to take you with me.

Glider: (Aside) Well, it was worth a shot- and I do want to see it. (To Jay) Okay, that works. The gift’s in our hideout on Seventh and Main.

(Cut to hideout)

Jay: Which one is it?

Glider: The doll. (Jay hands it to her)

Cold: But I thought you said you didn’t like it!

Glider: Lenny, she isn’t the present-the fact that you spent 25 years looking for her is. Having a brother like you was the best present of all.

Cold: Aww, shucks. It was nothing, sis.

Jay: Now who sounds like a bad TV show?

Glider: It’s still you, gramps.

Jay: Unfortunately for the two of you, you still have quite a debt to pay to society. Let’s get you back where you belong.

Act V

(Joan and Wizard are still sitting at the counter. Joan has a cup of coffee now)

Wizard: And then I got a concussion.

Joan: (Aside) Well, one thing’s for sure: this fellow wasn’t kidding when he said that I didn’t know the half of his self-destructive lifestyle! In fact, I’m slightly surprised he’s still alive. (To Wizard) And this was before you dropped out of high school?

Wizard: Two weeks after, actually.

Joan: I’m starting to think you might need more help than I can give you, Mr. Mardon.

Wizard: Told you. (Pause) And just call me Mark.

Joan: Well, Mark, have you ever considered seeing a counselor?

Wizard: You mean a shrink? No way, lady. I’m stupid, not crazy.

Joan: Going to a counselor doesn’t mean you’re crazy. In fact, a lot of the time, it means that you’re smart enough to realize that you need help to change.

Wizard: Who said I wanted to change?

Joan: No one-but by your own testimony, you’re responsible for the mess you’re in right now, and nothing will get better for you until you decide to change your life.

Wizard: Seriously, are you sure you never met Clyde? Because you sound just like him.

(Enter Jay)

Jay: Hello, Joan.

Joan: Hello, sweetheart. What a pleasant surprise!

Jay: Well, I already recaptured Captain Cold and the Golden Glider, so I decided to stop by and visit my lovely wife.

Joan: Oh, Jay, stop flattering me.

Wizard: Your husband is the Flash?  

Joan: Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to mention that! Mark, this is my husband, Jay Garrick, the first Flash. Jay, this is Mark Mardon. He and I have been having a little chat.

Jay: Joan, get away from him-now!

Joan: Why? He’s not bothering me.

Jay: Joan, Mark Mardon is the Weather Wizard!

Joan: You’re a supervillain?

Wizard: Yeah.

Joan: When were you planning on mentioning that fact?

Wizard: Well, I wasn’t planning on mentioning it at all, because I assumed that you knew who I was. Although, now that I think about it, your not knowing would explain why you didn’t freak out when you saw me. (Pause)  No hard feelings, right?

Joan: I’m not sure what I’m feeling, honestly.

Jay: How long have you been here together?

Joan: About an hour, I think.

Jay: And you never recognized him?

Wizard: Well, in her defense, I’m out of costume and you and I haven’t fought much. There wasn’t all that much of a reason for her to recognize me without my gear.

Jay: And you didn’t realize that she was my wife?

Wizard: Nope. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her before.

Jay: Son, if I find out that you’re lying about that and this was a plan to kidnap her or something, you will regret it.

Wizard: Kidnap her? Why? I don’t hate you nearly enough to do something like that-and besides, I’d have to be crazy to kidnap her now. My wand’s been broken for a week, and I can’t fix it, so I’d have to have a death wish to make you angry at me.

Jay: You can’t control the weather any more?

Wizard: Sadly, no-and that means that you won’t be hearing from the Weather Wizard again. Without the wand, I don’t have the talent to be a supervillain, and if word got out that one of the Rogues was back to picking pockets, I’d be the joke of the underworld. I’d rather quit crime than go through that sort of humiliation.

Joan: Well, while I certainly don’t admire your reasoning, I’d say that quitting crime is the best life decision you’ve ever made, Mark. At the very least, it’ll certainly make the city safer.

Wizard: Okay, so now what happens?

Jay: I don’t know. That would depend on whether you’ve committed a crime since you got out on parole four months ago.

Wizard: Why would I tell you if I had?

Joan: Because if you do, he’ll be a lot less angry than if you lie to him and he finds out later.

Wizard: You make a good point, lady. (To Jay) I tried to rob a gas station by knocking out the power, but before I could actually knock out the power or do anything, I got struck by lightning and my wand broke, so I didn’t actually try to steal anything. Is that attempted robbery?

Jay: I’m afraid we’ll have to let a jury decide that, son.

Wizard: And since I don’t have my weather wand, I ain’t about to get humiliated by trying to escape from a guy with super speed and then failing.

Joan: You know, for a man with such limited common sense, it’s amazing how practical you can be when it helps you save face.

Wizard: Well, considering I already lost a million dollars and my powers, I’ve kinda had my fill of being laughed at and called an idiot for the year.

Joan: So, you can change after all.

Wizard: (Shakes head) Lady, you’re something else. I’m not sure if it’s a good something else or a stupid something else, but you’re something else.

Jay: All right, son, time to go.

Wizard: (To Joan) See you around, lady. It was nice talking to you.

Joan: I suppose I’m glad you appreciated it. Good-bye, Mark.

(Jay exits with Wizard, then returns)

Jay: Are you alright, Joan?

Joan: Yes, I’m fine. He didn’t really do anything to hurt me, after all.

Jay: Oh, thank goodness. If he’d hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.

Joan: See, now you know how I feel!

Jay: Why, Joan, I think you’re right!

Joan: Have I ever mentioned that I love you?

Jay: I’m not sure. You know how our memories get at our age.

Joan: (Laughs) Well, then, Jay, I love you more than you can imagine.

Jay: And I love you to the moon and back.

(They kiss)

Joan: Oh, that reminds me-I need to go to Betsy’s house! My, I can’t imagine what she’ll think when I tell her that I had coffee with a supervillain!

Jay: The same thing that I do: that you’re the bravest, kindest woman on the face of the Earth. (Pause) Do you want me to take you to her house before I go back on patrol?

Joan: Oh, of course!

Jay: Then your chariot awaits you, my lady.

Joan: Oh, Jay, that’s so cheesy!

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XI

December 27, 2277.

My mistress’ peers surrounded her and they’re either hugging her or asking her how her life has been since she went out in the wastes. Something stirs in my chest. I feel… happy seeing people care about the mistress. I’m certain that there are people who care for her in the Wasteland; Gob, Nova, Simms, Moira, Three Dog, the kids in Big Town, everyone else she has helped… and me. But there are people who wanted to hurt her too. Here in this vault, she is safe. I won’t be surprised if she decides to stay here after she’s done with her father’s project.

Seeing these teenagers joke around and catch up with each other makes me wonder if I could have experienced that too.

I follow Percy as the other teens her age led her to a jail cell, where they set their former teacher free. He seems proud of them. Percy introduced me to him, Mr. Brotch, and after the initial surprise due to my appearance, he shook my hand. We gathered back in the clinic, where the old lady who gave me a sweetroll held a prayer for James.

Just when I thought the mistress could finally catch a break, Amata drops a bomb on her.

“Percy, on behalf of the vault, I thank you for everything that you’ve done,” she starts, an apologetic tone in her voice.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Percy half sighs, half laughs. “Let me guess, I can’t stay?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. But there are a lot of people who still blame you for everything that happened.”

There’s a clamor of protest from her peers. “Wait, but Percy saved all of us!” Gomez’ kid interjected. “Yeah, we can’t just kick her out,” a girl spoke up. From her resemblance with Wally, I suppose this one is Susie. “Percy! You can’t just accept that,” another girl interrupts.

“It’s fine, Christine. I can’t say I’m surprised. I always did stir up trouble in the vault, didn’t I?”

Amata laughs, bittersweet. “You shake things up, and often for the better. But the situation is too delicate for you to stay…”

“I know, Amata. Hell, I met Wally earlier. He’s too taken in by your father’s and his father’s lies. No offense.”

“None taken, Percy.”

“Can I go around the vault, one last time?” Percy asks, her voice cracking. I stand close to her, reluctantly placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course.”

And so, I followed the mistress around once more as she explored her home for the last time. I’ve learned her history from the places we went through. The place where she would stash her comic books. The place where her class would sneak off to so they can drink in secret. The place where Stevie hurt her. The place where she would hide and cry. The place where she would practice shooting. I learned so much about the mistress that night.

Our last stop was her and James’ living quarters.

Everyone stopped at the doorway, save for the dog, who still followed her inside. She looks over her shoulder, gesturing for me to follow, and I did. Looking around felt like a violation of her privacy, but then the realization dawned on me. Percy’s sharing this part of herself with me.

My mistress drags her fingers through the surface of a coffee table, dust collecting at her fingertips. “This is where dad used to read his books,” she almost whispers. She moves on to her sleeping quarters, a small room with a bed, a dresser, and a few items lying about. Percy picks up a teddy bear, old and worn with use, a soft expression on her face.

“Mr. Bubbles.”

Percy gives it to Dogmeat, which he happily carries in his mouth. She jumps on the bed, landing face first. “I can’t remember the last time I slept on a soft bed.”

After spending a few minutes on the bed, she finally stood up, shaking the dust off her armor. “Time to grow up, I guess.”

We went back to the clinic and my mistress collected her father’s things, one of which was a picture frame with something written inside. I still have difficulty reading the words, despite my mistress teaching me, but I can read the numbers just fine. 21:6.

A pair of girls her age went to me with apprehension. Christine and Susie.

“Hey, Charon was it?” Susie asks me.

I give her no reply.

“Take care of our friend, won’t you?”

I nod. “It’s what I’m here for.”

The group of teenagers, the old lady, and the teacher accompanied us on the way out. Gomez gives my mistress a nod, taking his place next to his son. The vault door opens, and my mistress takes a step.

“See you on the outside?” Percy tells them.

“One day,” Amata replies. “Goodbye, Percy.”

Percy doesn’t look back. The corners of her eyes are wet.

As soon as we’re out of the trap door, she lets out a sob she’s been holding in for fuck knows how long. And I held her again. I placed a hand behind her head, pressed her to my chest, and she cried.

Dammit.

She doesn’t deserve this. I want to make her feel better. Percy deserves better.

“Percy, remember what I told you earlier?” I speak up, my voice rumbling through my chest.

“Yeah?” she sniffles. A snowflake lands on her hair. It’s getting colder and colder as each day passes.

“I mean it. Contract aside… I’ll stay by your side as long as you will have me.”

“Thank you big guy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around my waist.

When we broke from the embrace, the mistress looked me in the eyes. “You’re the best thing that happened to me in months, Charon.”

I swallow thickly, preparing myself for what I’m about to say to her.

“...you’re the best thing that happened to my life,” I tell her.

Percy looks at me with wide eyes, filled with… what is this feeling? Whatever it is, I liked it.

“Charon, I…” the mistress stammers, taking my hand in hers. 

We were interrupted by a damn cough.

“Uh… am I interrupting something?” It’s fucking DeLoria. God dammit all.

“Wait, Butch?! What are you doing out here?” Percy asks him, stepping away from me. Dogmeat looks up to me and whines. Even the dog is disappointed.

“I told ya I’m getting out of that hole, didn’t I? Now-”

“You can’t tag along,” my mistress interrupts.

Sometimes, I wish my mistress would be more selfish, because now, this loudmouth greaser is settling on the couch while my mistress is rubbing her face. He’s bunched up in blankets, looking uncomfortable.

“One day, Butch. I help you for one day, and you’re out on your own,” she tells him, sternly, a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get outta your hair as soon as I can pick myself up. Thanks, Perce,” DeLoria tells her, propping his head up with an arm. “You sure you don’t want me next to you?”

My mistress groans. “No. Now go to sleep. Rivet City’s a long way from here.”

Dogmeat, still holding Percy’s old teddy bear in his mouth, followed us as we went upstairs. I pull Percy aside.

“Percy, are you sure about this?” I ask her. I don’t trust the greaser.

“Yeah. Helping him get to Rivet City won’t hurt. I’m heading there to trade for ammo before we look for Vault 87, anyway,” she tells me.

“But what if he’s just taking advantage of your kindness?”

“What if it works out? Ease up, big guy, Butch is harmless. Compared to what’s after me in the Wasteland, anyway.”

“I just don’t want any harm to come to you, Percy.”

“I know, big guy. But Butch is what’s left of the life I had in the vault. He’s like family now. I can’t just abandon him,” she tells me, placing a small hand on my arm.

A small twinge of guilt blooms in my chest. Right. It’s not even an hour since she was exiled from her home. Of course she’d still be attached to her previous life and the people in it.

“I understand. Good night, Percy.”

“Good night, Charon.”

As I lay on my mattress, my mind wanders to my youth. Seeing where my mistress, no, my friend grew up in made me wonder what it was like when I wasn’t groomed to be the killer that I am yet.

I try to remember what I can.

March 18, 2065.

A little boy was flying to see my aunt on her birthday. I was that boy.

Looking out an airliner window, clouds were breezing by while Mama sewed and Papa was finishing the last of his lunch. I was holding a handmade doll Mama made with me, that I was going to give to my aunt. The sky was still bright and blue, not the ruined, green-tinged one I know today. “Are we there yet?” I asked Mama, impatient. My voice was small. A child’s.

“Patience little one,” Mama tells me. “We’ll be there soon. Excited to see Auntie Katya?”

I nod at her. I can’t even remember my mother’s face and my memory is struggling to fill the gaps. All I know is she had blue eyes, like mine.

“You know, Artyom, we were visiting her when your mama had you,” said Papa. His hair is red like mine. “Your Aunt Katya was there when your mother gave birth. She chose your name, too.”

So that was my name before… before...

“I can’t believe we’re finally back in California after all those years, Ilya. Sometimes I wonder why we stay in Alaska,” Mama said.

“What does California look like, Mama?”

“Hush now, I’ll let you see for yourself when we get there. Get some sleep,” Mama tells me. I remember pouting at her.

“Lullaby, please,” I ask her.

“Oh, fine, fine. Come here, love.”

I settled in my mother’s lap. She’s warm, soft, and smells of baked goods. Like a sweetroll.

“Spi mladyenec, moi prekrasniy, bayushki bayu...”

That lullaby always made me feel better. Sadly, I cannot remember the rest of it.

I’m taken back to the present, more than 200 years later, when the dog whines outside my door. I crack it open, and see Dogmeat outside, the teddy bear still in his mouth. I let him in. I lie back down on the mattress and Dogmeat lies next to me, sniffing his new toy before drifting asleep.

Through the thin walls of Percy’s home, I can hear her soft cries and sobs.

It went on for hours.

I can’t take it anymore.

Three months ago, I would’ve scoffed at the idea. I would’ve told myself that I’m a mercenary, not a babysitter. But I want to make my friend Percy feel better.

“Do you think we should get her?” I ask the dog, who was awakened by her sobbing when it started almost two hours ago. Dogmeat licks my face and sits patiently in front of the door, waiting for me to open it.

We quietly step outside my room. I look over the balcony, and Butch was already fast asleep. Good. I knock at my mistress’ door, and after a few seconds of silence, she opens it, her eyes red and raw.

“Hm?”

“I can hear you crying through the walls,” I tell her, holding my breath.

“Oh. I’m sorry-”

“Percy, you have nothing to apologize for. Do you need company?”

“I- yes. I can’t sleep. Stay with me, please?”

Please. I will never grow tired of hearing her say that word.

I step into her bedroom. Her only bedroom now, as far as I’m concerned. There are sheets of paper neatly stacked on the desk, and a repainted tin can holds her pencils. Her bed sheets smell faintly of Abraxo detergent and a human scent, unmistakably Percy’s. I sit on the bed and she immediately huddles into my chest, face pressed against it. I gather the blankets and wrap it around Percy, stroking her hair. I felt like a depraved old man, cuddling down with a nineteen-year old in her bedroom and touching her hair, but my feelings do not matter at the moment. Percy needs all the comfort she can in this shithole world.

Her sobs slowed into soft breaths.

“Better?”

Percy nods. “Thank you.”

“Anything for a friend, Percy.”

She looks up to me. “Friend?...”

“Is that not what you call me? Don’t overthink it.”

Percy nodded and rested her head against my chest. Dogmeat comes over to give Mr. Bubbles back, and she takes the bear, while the dog lies over our legs. We’re a cozy little pile.

I try to remember my mother’s lullaby, but my brain is failing me. I still remember the melody, however.

I start to hum.

Even in her sleep, she’s crying for her father.

Only when Percy settled comfortably did I allow myself to close my eyes.

??? ??, 2070

There’s a plate of pancakes on the counter, but I can’t have some yet. I look at my fingers, thin and bony, thumbing the page of a book while I sit in the kitchen. Mama is getting frustrated at me. I’m doing my best to understand what is on the page.

Then, we heard knocking at the door.

Papa is in the living room, so he answers it. I go back to learning how to read, but Mama isn’t looking at the book anymore.

“Artyom, keep reading. I’ll just make sure your Papa’s okay.”

She stands up and leaves me in the kitchen. I didn’t stay put. I hid behind the door frame to spy on them, and I saw two men shoving a piece of paper in my father’s face.

“You have the right to remain silent, Mr. Volkov. Anything you say-” one of them tried to say, but Papa interrupts him.

“This must be a mistake. We are not Reds nor we are harboring Reds-” said my Papa. He was interrupted by the men, who attempted to put him in handcuffs, but Papa is big and strong. He didn’t let them touch him.

“Mr. Volkov, please cooperate. We must investigate all reports that go through our 1800-REPORT-RED Hotline. You’ll be tried in court, and should you be proven a Red supporter or ally, social services will take your child into custody in an attempt to rehabilitate him from any indoctrination you might have-”

Papa pushes one of them.

“Do not touch my son. I am not going. That warrant isn’t even authorized! I am not coming with you over an accusation made by some paranoid idiot who called your damn hotline. Annika, call Katya. She’ll know what to-”

I hear a loud noise and flinch, then Papa falls to the floor.

Mama screams as she falls to her knees to make sure he’s okay. He’s not breathing.

They killed my Papa.

Author’s Notes:

I was listening to Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood as inspiration for this chapter. It'll probably be the inspiration for the next ones too.

I headcanon Charon to be of Russian descent and I'm not the first one to do so, IIRC. His grandfather was a Russian diplomat in Los Angeles, and his father and aunt moved to the USA along with him as children. I wrote this as a shoutout/homage to one of the possible pre-made player characters in the first Fallout, Natalia Dubrovhsky. Stay tuned to find out how he ended up on the East Coast!

If we were to follow traditional Russian naming convention (first name + patronymic + surname), his full name would've been Artyom Ilyich Volkov.

The lullaby Charon's mother sings to him as a boy is called Cossack Lullaby, written by Mikhail Lermontov in 1838.

Also, Auntie Katya will show up in future stories! -wink-

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

So we've seen snippets of what a post-escape of your "BATIM x Undertale/Deltarune" AU looks like, but what about a regular BATIM Post-escape?

It’s late and my brain is mush rn, so I’ll just go through the cast’s fates. Formwise (with a few exceptions), they’re pretty similar to the ATDT AU, but due to the different time period, different methods of getting out, and a different journey, a lot of them are in a different place.

Everybody (sans Joey and Sammy) - Group therapy, the searchers and lost ones take over an abandoned ghost town somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and Thomas and Allison get to work on various projects. You know how in the 50s food was fucking insane? The Ink creatures had nothing but bacon soup for decades and now they’re going buck wild with food tenfold and ignore any and all culinary rules and the concept of form. It’s chaos. Edible, disgusting chaos. The Ink Demon teams up with willing artists to design On Model Forms and or Updated Models for anyone and everyone who requests them. It’s not super popular at the moment, but in a few dozen decades or so the town of ink abominations turns into a town of living cartoons.

Henry - Happily reunited with his loving wife who thankfully doesn’t question why he no longer has pupils or irises or why his eyes glow bright yellow and instead is just relieved he came home in one piece as she was starting to get worried that Joey had killed him and stuffed his body into some weird magic thing. (She was not amused to find out she was right, but is glad he’s back home.)

 Linda - Happily reunited with her loving husband who brought home a teenage cartoon werewolf son and a teenage demon son who cries when shown affection. (He’s still getting used to receiving it.) The whole ink monster thing is pretty weird and kinda sad after learning the history, but being there for it and helping them out makes retirement a hell of a lot more interesting.

Inkwell “Inky” “The Ink Demon” - Loves his new on-model form and that he no longer has to live as a Bendy, off model or otherwise. He also loves genuinely being part of a loving family but he still has issues regarding how Joey and Thomas treated him so he’s still on guard and does occasionally lash out. He also feels guilty about how he himself treated the other poor souls in the studio, especially his former prophet as he can’t even apologise to him face to face as he has no way to get in contact with the musician. He honestly tries to make people happy with their new designs but he is really bad at figuring out a balance between designs that his clients want as well as fits their themes and story arcs and it doesn’t help that most of their requests are: “just fix me already.”

Buddy - has a lot of mixed feelings about the new situation. He actually enjoys living with Henry as it’s pretty familiar to him and does like Linda, but even though he can see that the Ink Demon is trying to be a better person and trying to fix what he’s done as best as he can, well, you can’t exactly undo years of being hunted down for sport in a single week and it doesn’t help that the demon’s design looks like a saturday morning cartoon villain, implying he still fully intends to be evil.

Sammy (Studio’s perspective) - The former employees have no idea where he is, what he’s doing, or how he is. Inky has tried to see where he is through his mask but the only thing he managed to see was the mask’s perspective of getting burnt to a crisp. The only reason why they know he made it out of the studio at all is because the former composer sent them exactly two letters. However, a lot of people think that one of them was either a fake letter or a venting letter that was never meant to be read as the two letters were sent at the exact same time and they have very wildly differing tones.

Joey - This, but with The Ink instead of voodoo magic.

And then after a while, he’s spat out of the well as a swollen searcher, the creature at the very bottom of the studio’s pecking order and thus the biggest jab to his pride and power he had ever endured. The only person who could kinda-sorta want to reach out to him at this point would be Inky, but Joey’s stubbornness prevents him from asking his ‘son’ for help. (Which honestly is good for the entire studio, as well as the poor demon...)

Thomas - Tom doesn’t like the fact he’s still a wolf, but they can’t exactly give him a humanish design when nobody remembers what he looks like, all written descriptions of him were destroyed, and there’s no pictures of him in the studio. But he’s happy that he can speak and he’s not a Boris anymore. Most of his current projects are currently SCP Foundation-esc reports, studies, and a list of treatments to help other ink creatures cope with their situation.

Allison - She and Thomas took Sammy’s 414 page, source-cited “This is why you suck” speech/powerpoint to heart (before he disappeared) and try to help Lost-Search Town as much as she can and as often as she can. But as a fair amount of the people there blame her, Thomas and Joey for the fact that they’re either inky abominations or cartoons and others just go along with the crowd, they’re not too keen on trusting them or even letting them near their little town. So she spends most of her time trying to help them in a search party dedicated to trying to find Sammy and bring him back in an attempt to win over their trust. (Even though both letters had strongly emphasized against doing this.)

Wally - Got a job as a radio host and his station is pretty popular due to his personality, his impressive ‘voice impersonation skills’, and the stories he tells. Over the radio, nobody knows that you have a tape recorder for a head. Although, during late night shifts, he does receive some pretty strange calls from listeners...

Susie - Due to some acute Angelophobia (not to be confused with Anglophobia) that she got from her experiences in the studio and a very unfortunate choice made in her design, she joins Grant in the “I freak out every time I see myself in the mirror” club. She’s hesitant about trying for a new model due to the fact both she and Malice fear the Ink Demon. But on the bright side, she writes some really fucking good horror novels.

Malice Angel - In spite of how poorly Malice treated Susie, the voice actress couldn’t bear to let the twisted version of Alice get destroyed altogether (she felt pity for the creature when she saw that she became a searcher without her. And besides, Alice was a part of her after all) so while she has been saved, she has also been demoted from main villainess to an Alice Angel lookalike shoulder demoness.

Jack - He’s doing pretty well, It’s not fun being a giant cartoon rat but it’s a lot more quiet and peaceful than being a swollen searcher. He and the rest of the music department tend to (metaphorically) stick together a lot because some of them kinda miss the hivemind in that “There is a fuck ton of change going on and even though it’s good change it’s still too many changes to process” way. He was thinking about getting his model sheet updated to a more human design, but sadly can’t find any pictures of himself to use for reference. Inky suggested an alligator design but Jack also doesn’t like that idea. 

Emma - Opened up her own dance studio in the town. It gives the townsfolk something fun to do and it’s pretty popular. She had never felt more proud of herself.

Norman - Now that he has his mind back, getting an updated model sheet felt kinda redundant to him. I mean, what will change aside from his art style? But do you know what he did do?

Change his fashion sense, this man has seen nothing but black and shades of yellows for god knows how long and he’s gonna wear all of the tackiest, ugliest, brightly colored button up shirts that he can find.

Bertrum - Is disappointed he ever got to beat Joey Drew to a bloody pulp with his mechanical limbs but happily goes back to working on and maintaining his existing parks. (He wishes that people would ignore the fact he’s a ten foot tall archangel animatronic, but beggars can’t be choosers.)

Lacie - Not a fan of being stuck inside the Bendy animatronic, but likes being able to move again. She’s willing to put up with being stuck in the machine because the alternative is the Ink Demon’s art shit and she can’t trust that noodily bitch as far as she could throw him.

Shawn - Local man won’t stop making toy-related puns, groaning onlookers wish he would fucking stop. In all seriousness, he’s doing a lot better than he was when he was stuck in that studio and while there are a few moments where he thinks “maybe approving the ‘human sized rag doll’ design wasn’t my best idea” but there’s pros and cons with every decision made.

Grant - Unfortunately wasn’t conscious enough to give any input on his form. He was arachnophobic before the studio shit went down and developed a fear of time during it. His design was a cartoon humanoid spider with a time motif. He got a service dog, a profuse amount of apologies from Inky, and in a few weeks when Grant stabilized enough to safely allow an updated model sheet, he gets a new design that looked more like a run-of-the-mill rubberhose skeleton in a suit. He practically cried with happiness when he saw his new reflection.

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 3

A/N: And…I’m back! Okay, so I wrote this at work (omg I know…I’m so bad lol), and the story is clearly continuing with Y/N ‘pretending’ to be Dick’s girlfriend. Now, I should mention again that there will be future warnings because Dick’s sexuality is going to be a problem to some people. Otherwise, I don’t have anything else to say right now, so enjoy the story!

Warnings: Language and masturbation.

I wake up with a stiff back. Falling asleep on the couch and lying almost still, I wince when I roll off and land on the ground to completely stretch my body. Sounds of cracking joints and muscles stretching to the fullest, I know I’m due for a hot shower.

 Stripping down naked, I step into the shower and allow the hot water to cleanse me. Applying soap into my hand, I scrub my body; letting my fingertips rub my sensitive skin. My hands caress my breasts; fingers gently pulling and pinching my nipples.

 A moan escapes my mouth. When was the last time my body was worshipped from a man?

 One hand takes turns on both my breasts while the other hand runs down my stomach all the way down to my pussy. Just the slightest touch to my clit is enough to have me panting and anticipating what’s going to happen next.

 The next thought is what gets me going.

 I close my eyes and imagine two strong large hands touching my body as if they have been dreaming of this. A hard, muscular tall body is pressed behind me. I slightly gasp when I feel a hard, thick cock being pressed against my ass.

 “Fuck...you must really want me, doll. I can see you’re already on edge. How bad do you want me, Y/N?” Jason’s voice whispers in my ear.

 His fingers replace mine and he begins to rub fast circles on my clit. Jason’s rough hands work their magic on me. Between the fast, hard circles on my clit, he begins to finger me as well.

 “I-I want you so bad! Oh God! Please destroy me, Jason!” I beg. Tears are pouring down my cheeks.

 “Oh, I will destroy you so much, Y/N. I’m going to fuck you so hard. Your pussy is going to be mine forever! Now, fucking cum for me, doll!” Jason demands. His voice deepens and he groans in my neck.

 One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other hand is being used to bring me to my orgasm. He fingers me with two fingers, while his thumb rubs my clit faster and harder than before.

 I grip onto the shower wall and with my other hand, I grab onto his arm; squeezing tightly to hold on because I feel a soaring hot sensation go through my body.

 “Jay! Oh my God, Jay! Fuck!!! I need you so bad!” I whine.

 “Fuck Y/N...I want to taste you so fucking bad. I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” Jason whispers seductively in my ear.

 Jason turns my head around to kiss me. The moment our lips touch, I feel myself clenching down onto his fingers. My pussy gushes with my juices, and I moan very loudly to where I bite my bottom lip to quiet down a bit.

 I open my eyes and realize it was only a fantasy. I remove my fingers from my pussy, and I end up washing myself again despite feeling relieved and somewhat attracted to Jason.

 Jason fucking Todd.

 Once I get out of the shower, I quickly slip on my black bikini top and short black swimming shorts that compliment my curves and ass. I then wear a pair of short jeans and red tank top over my swimsuit to go to the Wayne Family Barbecue at noon. The nagging voice in my head tells me to act natural, and to be the sweet loving girlfriend to Dick.

 Except I know it’ll be harder to do when all I want to do is punch Wally West in his fucking balls for sleeping with my boyfriend.

 Maybe it’s the woman in me. I obviously see that women have a power in them to make men’s lives miserable. And as a woman, I’m clearly strong enough to bring a man down when I want to; especially mentally, that is.

 So, I do what I do best: I make myself feel better.

 I put my hair up in a ponytail. I then apply a little makeup, but light enough so I can swim without looking like a raccoon with dark eyes. I even apply my favorite lip gloss; peach colored and flavored.

 A taste Dick can’t even deny.

 I grab my tote back with a spare change of clothes. I’m about to head out when I open the door and see Artemis and Zatanna there.

 “Oh my God! You guys are back already!” I squeal. Hugging them both tightly.

 “Hell yeah! We wouldn’t miss a Wayne Family Barbecue. Damn Y/N,” Artemis smirks and looks at me. “You look good! Are you trying to give Dick a heart attack?”

 More like kill him, I think to myself.

 “Yeah I am,” I giggle. “You both look so good, too!”

 The blonde bombshell smiles and twirls around so I can check her out in her booty shorts and green tank top. I notice Zatanna is shy, and waves at me. She’s wearing a short black skirt and white tank top.

 “Hi Y/N,” Zatanna greets me quietly.

 “Z...how many times have we been over this? I’ve known you for three years! Stop being so nervous and shy around me,” I insist.

 “Yeah Z! We’re the Powerpuff Girls!” Artemis says.

 “You’re Bubbles, Z! Arty is Buttercup and I’m Blossom! We’re good friends here,” I explain. “You should know that by now.”

 “She’s just nervous because she’s going to try to hook up with Tim tonight,” Artemis reveals. She wiggles her eyebrows at Zatanna. “She’s been crushing on the nerd since the vacation.”

 “Artemis!” Zatanna gasps.

 “That’s Buttercup to you,” I point out. I then freeze. “Wait...you like Tim?!”

 Zatanna blushes and looks down at her feet. “I think he’s...sweet...” she confesses.

 “Yeah! So, while you and Dick are sucking each other’s tongues, and Z hooks up with Tim, I’ll be trying to jack off Conner under the table,” Artemis admits. She steps aside, so I lock up my apartment. I slowly turn around and stare at her.

 “You...and Conner? What happened to M’gann and Conner?” I ask, slowly realizing how out of the loop I am.

 Artemis wraps an arm around me and Zatanna as we walk down the stairs.

 “She cheated on him. She complained she wasn’t feeling good on the vacation, so Conner decided to go back to rest with her, but she was being fucked by Lagoon Boy! So, after Conner proposed to her, she cheats on him and gets back with Lagoon Boy. So, the engagement’s broken off. Now Conner is single and ready to mingle, so...I’m not going to lie to you Y/N, I’m going to hit that perfect ass of his,” Artemis says, smiling at the thought of her and Conner. “Don’t give me that disapproving look! After Wally broke up with me eight months ago, I have the right to get with whoever the hell I want!”

 That’s right. I totally forgot that Wally broke up with Artemis. Even though the breakup wasn’t messy, I always wondered what his reasons were because Artemis always insisted, they’ve just grown apart after he came back from being stuck in the speed-force. Everyone believed he died, but Dick somehow always knew he was still alive.

 Maybe that should have been a clue...

 “I think today is going to be so much fun! It’s like a reunion for all of us,” Zatanna says excitedly.

 Artemis scoffs. As soon as we reach the bottom of the stairs, we walk out to my red convertible. “No magic transportation thingy?” I ask Zatanna.

 “No way! I love your car! We’re taking it,” Zatanna claims. She hops in the back while Artemis sits in the passenger seat, as I drive.

 The ride to Wayne Manor makes me feel sick. I can feel my stomach hurt and a headache coming on. I wonder if I can even get through this. I even think about how Dick said he was going to talk to me this morning, and that had yet to happen even though it’s almost eleven o’clock. As friends of the Batfamily, we always go early to these gatherings considering Alfred might always need help.

 “Earth to Blossom!” Artemis calls out to me.

 I blink. I must have tuned them out while I drive in complete concentration.

 “What? I’m sorry. I must have...been in my own world,” I apologize.

 “Well I heard from Tim that Damian is dating Jessica Cruz, the new Green Lantern. I guess her Hispanic culture interests him since he has someone to share his Arabic and Chinese culture with,” Zatanna reveals, while opening a bag of potato chips in the backseat. “I think they’re totally cute together.”

 “Totally!” Artemis agrees.

 “Yeah...” I trail off. I’m still feeling uneasy right now.

 “Look, I heard a little rumor while we were sunbathing out on the beach. So, I heard from Roy, who heard from his girlfriend, Kori, who heard from Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, who heard from Damian, who heard from Alfred, who heard from Bruce that Jason Todd is secretly in love with someone! Like, what the hell, right? So, as Z and I are gossiping on the beach, Z tries to get Damian to admit who the girl is, but it turns out only Tim knows who Jason is in love with. We HAVE to find out tonight!” Artemis demands.

 “Why? What’s so fucking special about Jason’s love life?” I ask, even though I can feel jealousy slowly seeping inside me.

 “It is a big deal because Y/N: Jason has never fallen in love before! I mean, if someone like Jason can find love, that means anyone can,” Artemis clarifies.

 “I think it’s interesting considering when I shortly dated Dick way back then, Jason was in love with you Y/N,” Zatanna reveals softly.

 “In love with me?” I repeat. My heart beats fast and I grip the steering wheel tighter. “You guys are crazy. Jason was never in love with me!”

 “It’s true because Jason said you were different, Y/N. You never judged him. You never abandoned him in his darkest moments. You were better than any other girl that he’s been with,” Zatanna explains carefully.

 I roll my eyes. “Okay, so maybe he could have been in love with me. Whoever he is in love with now must be special enough to handle him,” I say, not entirely sure what I’m saying anyways.

 Whether Zatanna is aware or responsible for it or not, flashes of memories come to my mind.

 At just fifteen-years-old, I was homeless with no one. Batman found me, along with Jason, as the second Robin.

 The two of us were inseparable. Jason’s goofy and fun-loving moments were only shared with me, while I was learning to let go of the hatred and darkness from my parents leaving me.

 Jason was there for me, as I was there for him.

 Then Jason died. A part of me did too.

 Maybe that’s why Dick was there for me, and why he and I got together.

 Maybe that’s why I chose to be with Dick because...I couldn’t have Jason?

 Oh fuck.

 Fuck Z and her mind tricks to confess dark secrets and shit.

 “If it’s any consolation, I believe Jason and you made more sense than you and Dick,” Artemis mumbles to herself. She must have thought I wouldn’t hear her, but I did. “Jason seemed to love you for who you are. Dick just loves the idea of you.”

 I act like I didn’t hear her since we’re pulling into Wayne Manor. This confession makes me feel sicker and more confused about everything.

 Artemis and Zatanna are my best friends. I’ve known them since I was just sixteen years old, and we’ve been through a lot together. Their opinions matter to me, too, and if they truly think Jason was meant for me, maybe it’s true to a certain extent.

 But Dick has been the love of my life forever, and I’m still in love him.

 But maybe a part of my heart has always belonged to Jason.

 But Jason has clearly moved onto someone else. I’ve lost him and that chance. My heart slowly rips apart like a taped picture from a wall.

 But one thing’s for sure though: this barbecue party is going to be interesting and dangerous.

 Because if I have to pretend to be Dick’s happy girlfriend, I can only imagine what could happen next.

A/N: And Let me know if you are ready for Part 4!

[jenniferhettenbach]

Inside the Whale

This is something I wrote for a class I'm taking.

Inside the Whale

By Jennifer Hettenbach

If there was a response to my outburst, I didn't hear it. The only thing I could hear or focus on was the rapid building pressure, the emotion that roared inside my head, the numbness inside my fingers and toes, inside my chest, as if I could feel my body clamp down and try to keep me from exploding all over the small room. It wasn't working. Something was breaking in me, the pressure too much to hold back any longer. The fight to keep tears corralled behind closed lids to spilled over and roll down my cheeks. Pushed too far, and now I had gone crazy.

Society doesn't think much of people like me, low-wage workers, mothers, fathers, those of us who might have made a wrong turn or misjudged a step a time or two, us unskilled workers. Those of us who didn’t start with a leg up or even a lot of choices to begin with. Those of us who stock shelves, run registers, bring the food to your table, make overpriced coffee taste nothing like coffee or fulfill your online orders. We are all too often treated not like human beings, but cogs in a machine where our wants and needs don't matter. Where we don’t matter. Treated as if we deserve to struggle, to do without, abused and used because we didn’t make better choices, we weren’t born into different families didn’t try harder.

Society doesn’t take into consideration the brutality of low wage work. The constant stress, worry, of an unstable, unreliable, unrelenting job day in and day out with no promise of reward or finish line (Guendelsberger 10). A corporation that changes the rules as often as they change their CEO’s, to the benefit of its appearance rather than the toll of its employees. Or the manager who doesn’t pitch in when the work is in the weeds. Coworkers who look for a simple way out or customers who use you as a punching bag. Low wage work is “dehumanizing” (Guendelsberger 10) degrading and relentless.

I’d worked for Wally-World for almost four years when management approached me about a job. A supervisory position for the unloaders, someone to run the crew of maybe ten to fifteen people who unloaded the eighteen-wheeler trailer trucks and sorting merch for both the grocery side of the superstore and the G. M (general merchandise).

“You should apply for the position, Jennifer,” Larry, a support manager I had taken a liking to since he first appeared less than a year ago. We had a lot in common, as we both seemed to share that, “I’m not taking any more shit from you” vibe about us. When he worked, he often stopped by wherever department I was in to shoot the shit, but that night he had something different on his mind.

“I don’t know, I have a low tolerance for people, and even less for their bullshit,” I had told him between opening and breaking down cardboard boxes.

“Why do you think they always put you one the heaviest freight, Jennifer? Because you go in there and get the job done without having to have someone looking over your shoulder all the time. That is the kind of person this job needs. I think you will get the hang of the people in no time.”

And right there was my first mistake. I let myself be flattered by compliments, sucked into that game of sweet talk, none of which helps me pay my bills. One of my many flaws has always been looking for the approval of others, and when that approval comes with a side of encouragement, I let myself believe that other people know me better than I know myself. And what follows is the inevitable ignoring of that little voice in my head saying, “this is a bad idea.”

I took this news home and told anyone who would listen that there was a promotion available, and I was thinking of applying for it. I wanted advice, I wanted thoughtfulness, I wanted praise for my hard work. I wanted someone to tell me that I could do this job, but there was no one who could tell me what I wanted to hear. I had to find out on my own. I also talked to the higher ups, including the store manager, Daryl who would oversee the new spots. A fact that only added to the jobs appeal. I had worked for Daryl on the overnight shift, and I had liked him. He was easy to talk to, nice, and always made the crew under him feel like they were all working toward the same goal, unlike other managers I had worked for when they feel as if their crew should shutter at the sound of their voice.

The interview was conducted by Daryl, which he explained to me in detail what the job consisted of and what my responsibilities were, there was even talk about how my application bumped other applicants down a notch. A nugget that again stroked a very neglected part of my ego and started to add strength to my confidence. It felt good. And I was determined to get this job right. It didn’t take long for word to come back on my favor, a first for everything.

For about a minute and a half I was, dare I say, proud of myself. These people I had been working for, with had thought well enough of me and the job I had been doing to put me in charge of a bigger job. They didn’t think of me as trouble or a liar or untrustworthy, or a screwup. They trusted me to get the job done. I had earned it.

Hold onto something because here comes my second mistake.

I took the job as Cap Team Supervisor with the understanding of how things were going to run and who would be running them. I had asked all the questions and gotten all the answers, these were major factors in the decision of taking the job. But as always, nothing could be trusted, or counted on. From the start I had felt overwhelmed, unsupported, and left out there to survive on my own. Depending on what manager was on duty was the difference in answers or instructions. While one team of management might tell us to focus on the sort of the truck, the other on another day would tell us we needed to get the departments on the floor worked. Work unfinished by other shifts, departments, or just other employees often fell to the Cap Team to clean up or finish. Overstock that should have been binned on shelves in the back were left on carts we needed to sort incoming freight. Wrapped pallets of overstock taken down off a high stack to fetch one item would be left where it sat on the dancefloor.

Maybe it was Wally World Inc. or the store manager, Bret, or maybe it was Daryl himself, but one of them reached down and grabbed the edge of my metaphorical rug and yanked. Before I knew it, I was ass over elbows.

In a quick succession of moves, the job I had signed up for evaporated. The man in charge moved to another shift. Replaced by a mouthy little shit that loved the sound of his own voice more than any one of those plastic dolls on one of those “Real Housewives” shows. He thought a lot of himself, and I could feel it roll off him even before he opened his mouth. I had been in one of the outer offices complaining about one thing or another and looking for suggestions or resolutions to the problems that seemed to be piling up around me.

“I have big plans on how we can change this system and make it better, more efficient and less waste of time,” Danny had said sitting in the corner of the office looking at his phone the first time I saw him. That office was always crowded with management, a place employee out on the floor said they went to hide so I hadn’t paid him any attention. I didn’t know who he was or why he was commenting on a conversation he hadn’t been invited into when Daryl was nice enough to clue me in.

“Oh, this is Danny. He will be taking my place as Cap Team Manager.”

I didn’t like him from the jump. He wore his sunglasses on his head and spoke as if all the problems we had would simply vanish once “wait until they get a load of me”. And as much as I hoped that were true, I had my doubts. It didn’t take me long to realize that our new leader was there under his own set of skillful praise.

Our replacement leader was not only wanting the usual the two, sometimes three, truckloads of freight unloaded and sorted but was also looking to impress the elders. He volunteered us to have more and more departments on the floor stocked by the time the night crew came into stock. All of this with a constantly fluctuating crew of hires, fires, and quitters, not to mention the ones who were always continuous and on more than one occasion violent.

“Davidson!” I had shouted over the sound of rollers on the line, a stretchable line of rollers carrying boxes down off the truck and to the guys sorting it at the other end. Davidson, a new hire, was the size of a football player and easily must have weighed 400 pounds. He had only been working a week and even though his temper was quick triggered, he could throw an entire truck from one end to the other without complaint. The problem was he had a nasty habit of shoving the boxes down the line as if he were launching grenades at the enemy. Doing so, damaged freight, sent freight off the line and smashed fingers of the guys on the other end.

“Davidson!” I shouted again, trying to get his attention. When he finally looked at me, I felt a little spooked by the look on his face. “You are pushing too hard again!”

“Man, why don’t you tell these assholes to hurry the hell up!” he shouted back at me. “Look at the line, its packed full again!”

“Yes, I know, it does that when they have to move and reset pallets.”

“Fuck that!” he shouted and started down the line of rollers violently forcing the line of boxes to spill out onto the floor and bunch together. Boxes of every shape, size and weight spilled out onto the floor of both the trailer and the dance floor where guys on the other end shouted for the line to stop. But all I could do is watch this brute of a man as he stormed toward me. The only thing I could think was, “I hope he hurts me because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

For this job, I had stepped so far outside my comfort zone, so far outside the box, so far away from what I am and who I am, I couldn’t even find my comfort anymore. I was miserable and unhappy. All I thought about anymore was work. How to deal with it. How to survive it. I took a job I thought I could learn how to do and found myself drifting alone out at sea without a harbor insight. I did the best I could with every ounce of myself, and with little to no help or advice from the upper management. I felt used.

I knew even before I pushed open that heavy wooden door leading into the small manager’s office, that my six-month performance review was going to be a far cry from the positive reviews I had received before. But I didn’t really know how bad until I opened the door and found not one but three managers sitting around the tiny room, none of them make eye contact.

Walmart has a policy that when reviews or talks are given there is supposed to be another person in the room as a witness to what happened. The fact that Danny, thought he needed two other people with him meant that he was concerned with how that little meeting was going to go. It was unlikely that he was concerned that my happiness at my good review would send me into such gleeful hysterics that I would be unable to control myself and he would need these other two to pull my fat ass off him. I thought I felt something hit the floor between my feet, turned out it was that last bit of heart.

Standing there in that manager's office that day, my fight-or-flight mechanism twitched. It felt like a morgue, as if no one wanted to be in there, especially me. I thought I was going to be fired. I had wished, contemplated, threatened, and screamed and maybe even prayed a little over the past months for the strength to quit, to walk out of that building and never come back. But I hadn't, I kept pushing, kept trying to get it right. I tortured myself for absolutely nothing.

“Come in, have a seat, Jennifer,” Danny said, speaking first, and I did, reluctantly.

The small office was square in shape with just enough room to hold two desks on either side of the room. One desk was held a computer, files, and manuals, while the one across from it seemed to be the catch all for everything else that came into the room. Four plastic chairs filled the space between the desk, all but one was occupied. The room felt tighter than it had before, and I felt a twinge of claustrophobia, another kick to my fight or flight. To give myself a little room, I leaned my butt against the catch all desk and put my feet in the chair, giving Danny my undivided.

Danny sat with his back to the computer, papers in his hands. I had tried to like him; some days were easier than others. He was an average guy with average looks, but something about him just told you a bald head and beer gut was somewhere in his future. He had thin blonde hair, combed back from his face, and usually topped with his sunglasses, but not that day. He was one of those guys who was always warning people about what a bad ass he was which was probably one of the first things I didn’t like about him.

Brandon, the overnight manager, sat in front of the door, opposite of Danny. Handsome, sweet, and a good personality with a fondness for bike riding and music. I don’t think I ever saw him get upset, though I did see reflections of a bad day set in his face, though he never took it out on people. There was a woman there, but I cannot remember who she was and if she said anything I don’t remember what it could have been.

“As you know, it's time for your six-month review,” Danny started, some papers sitting on his crossed legs.

Sitting on the desk, my hands gripping the edge to the point of pain. I leaned on my hands, and let my head fall between my shoulders. I don’t know if my brain registered what he was saying at first or if I was just trying to save myself the disappointment of hearing it all by only reaching out to grasp ahold of certain words--

“--giving you the lowest score possible--”

“--this job isn’t for you--”

“--not good with people--”

“--complaints against you--”

Every word felt like a blow to my self-esteem, the pain of complete failure. I felt like an idiot. Nothing I had done, nothing I had tried to do, pushing myself out of my comfort zone, driving myself crazy with anger and frustration to do a good job did any good. It didn't matter that Danny had never pulled me aside and told me there was a problem. It didn't seem to matter then when the company instigated a new protocol; they asked for time to iron out the kinks; a courtesy not allotted to me. Danny gave me the lowest score allowed, so all the other scores I had received before this, all the hard work I did before, wiped out.

There was something about me that Danny didn't like, but the reason is unclear. I know that when he first arrived and increased our workload without the stabilizing the workload, we already had; I told him so. When a former manager I worked under came back as a regular Joe and didn't like me telling him what to do, tried to rile up the crew against me. I didn't hide my anger at him for putting me through it. Maybe it was me not liking him. I have never been good at hiding my disdain. And as he was reading off my review, he had made no effort to hide himself. Afterword, I heard rumors about his distaste for women who were less than cooperative. Of course, people could have just been saying that to be sympathetic.

I don’t know if it were the tears, I could no longer hold back or the feel like something alien like was about to come through my chest, but I very much needed to be out of that room and away from that man. Before anyone could move, I was on my feet weaving through legs and chairs, passed Danny and the witness to my humiliation, fighting to get out that door as if the room were on fire, mumbling through a tight throat and dry mouth about needing a minute. I weaved I was in a full-blown panic, but there wasn’t any relief on the other side of that door.

I poured out of that tiny office as if there hadn’t been enough air inside and hoped to find a great big lungful of relief in that grey hallway that ran the length of the store. To my annoyance, I only found more people. I had to get away from people. The voices, the energy, the words felt like fingers touching me, agitating me, holding me down and keeping me there. If I didn’t, I would draw attention, attention I didn’t want or need, and eventually someone would ask what was wrong, a question my ego wasn’t ready to admit out loud; that I’d been an idiot and a fool to think that hard work and determination would get me through, would earn me a little corrective feedback if I were doing it wrong or maybe a little respect. But apparently, that was another one of those fairy tales like unconditional love and they create all men equal.

There wasn’t a lot of praise in my family. Or understanding, support, or emotion for that matter. My mother was one who couldn’t hide her distain either, though hers was directed at me. She hated everything about me and wasn’t shy about telling me about it. She never would admit she didn’t like me, but I could feel it. She hated me for making her a mother, and maker her feel things she didn’t want to feel; like guilt at not being around. I tried everything to win her love. Changed who I was, what I want, what I looked like, but there was always something. It wasn’t until she got a call from Texas, two states away from her Kansas home. A man she barely knew on the other end. He was fighting with me, hitting me, spitting on me, and he was calling so she could listen. The man continued his tirade, cursing me, punching me, backing me into the corner of the room. On his way out of the room, he picked up the phone to tell her, I was a whore before throwing the phone down and leaving the room. When I felt safe enough to go for the phone, some part of me thought she might ask if I was alright, I was wrong. “How could any daughter of mine be so stupid?”

I squeezed past people, elbowed through groups and freight being rolled this direction or that, mumbling something that sounded perversely polite. I burst through the swinging double doors that lead out of the back and onto the sales floor. I was somewhere between the men’s department and the shoes when I caught sight of Carmon, someone I considered a friend, and she of me.

“Jennifer, what’s wrong?” the small woman said moving toward me. For the briefest of seconds, I wanted to tell her, “I fucked up!” I wanted to let go of all that anger and frustration, hurt and outrage, but I stopped myself. If I opened my mouth and let it out, it probably wasn’t going to be pleasant, or kind or quiet for that matter. I liked Carmen, she had been sweet to me when I first started, and even bought me a cake and present for my birthday once. I didn’t want to take this out on her. Before she could get to me, I waved a hand at her and hurried away, cutting through the baby department into the men’s department.

I dodged and weaved past people, carts, displays and shelves until I burst out into the night air, taking a sharp deep breath as if coming up from underwater. I moved out of the flow of traffic coming in and out of the store and over to the side of the building where there were no people and no lights. The cool night air felt good on skin soaked in sweat and heated with fever. I took long, deep drags of smoke, held it in my lungs before blowing what my lungs didn’t absorb out through my nostrils.

A smile that held no laughter spread across my face as my tightened throat grew unbearable as I completely let go. The tears that had all fallen where joined by others and leaning against the cement building, I slide down the wall until my ass met the ground. You idiot! You stupid fucking idiot! I wanted to scream, but the sight of customers passing by kept me from it, even in my state, I still tried to be a good employee.

I’m not sure how long I sat there on the dirty cement. I knew it wasn’t long enough, the only way it would have been to never have went back inside, and for a minute I thought about it, but even that was beyond my ability to do. My son was in there, working the third shift we had started together, but I had thought I was special, good. But there was also the freedom. My entire life had been at someone else’s discretion. I got married too young, had kids too young, divorced too young. Through all of it, I was helped by others until the choices I made for my life, my children’s lives were no longer my own. That job afforded me a freedom that I could have gotten nowhere else.

Once back inside the cell, I tried to busy myself with removing pens, printer pages, and lists that I always seemed to be stuffed or sticking out of some pocket or another. I stripped off the navy-blue vest with the built-in yellow target on the back in case an active shooter happened to wonder if half his work was already done for him, as Danny continued reading aloud my list of flaws and defects, rounding it off with my lack of civil tone.

“You have several complaints against you from your crew.”

“I give as good as I get, Danny! If they choose to be a constant pain in my ass, constantly take up time, constantly need attention and argumentative, we are not going to be buddies. This is a job not Romper Room!” I said, feeling my control slipping with every word I uttered. Out of the fifteen some odd guys that were on the crew at the time, I bet I could have narrowed down that list to the two or three that had the problem with me. They had had that problem since day one. Some of the guys didn’t like being put in departments where I needed them but wanted to be put in the departments where they wanted to go. They didn’t like that when they gave me shit, I gave it right back.

“Speaking of complaints, is there a reason why this review needs an audience?”

All three seemed to try and speak at once, but Danny’s voice won out. “There needs to be a witness…” Brandon jumped to his feet and volunteered to go as if he couldn’t wait to get out of that room. It wasn’t the only one feeling it. Danny continued to ramble about how much I suck and told me he couldn't make me quit the position, but he thought I would be better off as a department manager working by myself.

“Do you have any openings for department managers?” I’d asked, hoping to get away from him as fast as possible.

“No.”

I threw the nylon vest I had balled in my hands onto the desk behind him, by tomorrow the story would sound as if I threw a hammer at his head instead of a nylon vest. I was done. I was done with this conversation, with this company, with this whole job.

“And by that action, I can see I’ve made the right choice.”

As soon as I was out of that office, I was on my phone first texting my son who was at work somewhere in the building and then calling my husband. I was looking for support, compassion, an ally, but the more I told him the angrier I became. I had worked hard, done my best and gotten the work done. My voice became louder and louder echoing in the hollows of the back room. I felt out of control and on the verge of madness, while my husband kept telling me to stop and calm down before they fired me. His concern for the job, the paycheck, outweighed his concern for my pride, my hurt, my self-respect. I’m sure that if I had been in a different state of mind some part of me might have been able to understand that, but not nearly enough.

I quit my job as supervisor and went back to stocking shelves with my son for a couple more weeks at least. I saw Danny in the store from time to time until one day he was gone. I heard he took another job at another retailer. And one of the few females that had been on the unloading crew took my spot as supervisor, though I heard she didn’t fare much better.

I like to think I learned a little bit about myself. For one, I don’t play well with others. And I don’t like it when the fate of the project depends on others. Wally-World can say a lot of things about me, but they can’t say that I didn’t get shit done. After I left, I started looking for something better, something that might make me feel good about myself. Something to prove to myself that I am better than some egotistical blow hard. Something that said, not so stupid. I decided to go to college. I am currently working toward my bachelor’s degree in English and Creative Writing.

[queenofcats17]

I know it's a little early, but I need something less angsty...

Submitted by @magicalmonsterhero

-“Believe me, Suz–even if that thing was the real Alice Angel, I’d take you over her any day.”

-“Okay, grab the camera. I’m comin’ up!”

Running forward, Sammy jumped up, only to land flat on his stomach.

“God damnit!”

Wally laughed, which earned him a smack from Susie.

“It’s just like with anything else you move. You’re essentially using telekinesis on yourself. Here, let me show you.”

(This one was somewhat inspired by Chronicle.)

-The almost required Sailor Moon AU.

I’m sorry if you’ve had a bad day. I’m glad to cheer you up. :D

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“If I’m being honest, no. This is a terrible idea.”

Susie gave her boyfriend a pointed look. The two of them were on their way back to the studio they’d worked at so many years ago. They’d both received letters from Joey asking them to come back. After some debate, they’d decided on going. 

“Can’t you be at least a little comforting?” Susie said. 

“I’m sorry.” He looked over at her. “I just…I don’t like this. You remember what Joey was like before we left.” Susie smiled softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to be worried about me.” She assured him. “I can take care of myself.”

“I love you, I’m going to worry about you no matter what.” He said, laughing. Susie laughed as well, kissing his cheek. 

“You’re such a gentleman.”

They reached the studio a few minutes later. Neither was too excited about going into the studio, but they were going anyway. They had to figure out what was going on with Joey. So they went in. They hadn’t been expecting to find a decrepit studio covered with ink. 

“Should we leave?” Sammy asked. 

“No. I want to know why he called us back.” Susie pressed onwards. Sammy sighed and followed. Leave it to Susie to be headstrong. It was something he’d always loved about her. He couldn’t help but smile as he fell into step beside her. 

“What are you smiling about?” Susie asked, glancing at him. 

“I just love you, that’s all.” He said, kissing her cheek. Susie blushed and giggled, pushing him nervously away. They ran into some trouble trying to find Joey, which drove them deeper into the studio. It was a little difficult navigating their former workplace. A lot of entrances were either boarded up or flooded. But they managed nonetheless.  

“I wonder what happened here,” Sammy grunted as he hauled up the shutter blocking their path. 

“Knowing Joey, nothing good.” Susie tried to force a laugh, but she was honestly too tired for that. She was covered in ink and they’d been walking for what felt like hours. Had the studio always been this big? They continued on until they reached Shawn’s former workshop. 

“Ooh, I didn’t think there’d still be so many toys.” Susie exclaimed, picking a few up. Sammy hung to the side and looked around. It looked about the same it always had. Shawn had never been particularly tidy when it came to his workstation. Although he’d never have left all the plushes on the floor. Shawn valued his work too much for that. 

“I always wanted one of these.” Susie held an Alice Angel plush to her chest. “I thought it might be weird, though.”

“It’s not weird.” Sammy said, shrugging. “If you want one, take it.” Susie grinned at him, hugging the Alice Angel plush. It let out a squeak. From there, they came into the little room that Joey had wanted to use for Alice Angel meet and greets. The lights dimmed and the prerecorded song played. Susie hummed along happily. A spotlight shone on the door to the backstage area. 

“I used to dress up as her to meet kids. Do you remember that?” Susie asked, smiling wistfully. 

“Yeah. They were always so happy.” Sammy put an arm around her and pulled her close. Suddenly someone slammed their hands against the window, catching the couple off guard. It was a woman who resembled Alice Angel, aside from her deformed face. 

“I’M ALICE ANGEL!” She screamed, slamming her fists against the glass. Then the lights went out, leaving them all in darkness. 

“I see you there.” The woman’s voice echoed through the darkness. “New flies in my endless web. Come along now. Let’s see if you’re worthy to walk with angels.” The lights came back on, revealing the glass had been shattered. 

“What the everloving fuck was that?” Sammy muttered. 

“I-Is…W-Was that…Alice?” Susie stammered. “It couldn’t be, right? Sh-she’s just a cartoon character. She can’t be real. Joey couldn’t have-”

“Calm down,” Sammy said. “We’ll figure this out, alright?” Susie nodded slowly, beginning to fidget with the Alice doll.

“Susie, it’s going to be okay,” Sammy assured her. Susie just nodded again, starting off down the hallway. Sammy followed, making sure to stay close to Susie. They came to an elevator and the voice of “Alice” ordered them to take it down to floor 9. 

“What if she really is Alice?” Susie whispered as they began to descend. “What if she hates me? What if she thinks I left her? What-”

“You didn’t leave because you wanted to.” Sammy put a hand on her shoulder. “Joey fired you.”

“But I could have fought it!”

“You know how Joey is. There was nothing we could have done.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. When they got out, they were greeted by the same woman they’d seen upstairs. 

“You should feel honoured.” The woman said. “I seldom leave my sanctuary.” Susie’s breath caught in her throat. 

“What do you want?” Sammy asked, standing protectively in front of Susie.

“I want you.” The woman, “Alice”, stepped forward. She reached out for Sammy, but he backed up.

“Don’t be afraid,” Alice said. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.” She looked over his shoulder at Susie. “Her on the other hand…”

“Over my dead body,” Sammy growled. Alice tilted her head to the side. 

“Why are you protecting her?” She asked. “Don’t you remember how she yelled at you? How she called you a traitor?”

“Of course I remember,” Sammy said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to abandon her because she had a bad day.”

“But I could be so much better.” Alice strode forward, placing her hands on Sammy’s chest. “I would never curse you or hurt you. I would be the best lover you could ever ask for.” Sammy pushed her away and Alice looked hurt. 

“Don’t you love me?” She asked. “I thought you said I’d be as popular as Bendy. I’m your favourite.” 

“Where did you even get that idea?” Sammy sputtered. “You weren’t even real when I was here.”

“I…I think that’s Allison.” Susie whispered. 

“I was Allison. But now I’m Alice.” Alice smiled sweetly. Sammy groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t surprised, honestly. It seemed like something that Joey would fucking do.

“Okay, Alli,” Sammy said. “I’m not interested in you. I never was, and I never will be. You’re a nice kid, but you’re just a kid.” Alice’s face twisted in rage and she stamped her foot. 

“Why?!” She screeched. “Whywhywhywhywhy?! I’m so much better than she is! Why do you keep going back to her?!” Before Sammy could answer, the girl turned and ran. Susie, throughout all this, had stood stock still. She hadn’t been able to say a word. Allison had become a monster and it was all Susie’s fault. She started to cry. Sammy quickly turned around and pulled her into his arms. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said, stroking her hair. 

“Y-You deserve so much better than me!” She sobbed. “I’m an awful person! You deserve Alice!”

“Believe me, Suz–even if that thing was the real Alice Angel, I’d take you over her any day.” Sammy lifted her face so her eyes met his. “Yes, we have problems sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade you for the world. I love you, Susie Campbell.” 

“Are you sure?” Susie asked, whimpering a little. 

“Yes. I’m sure.” Sammy kissed her head. “Now let’s get out of here.”

.

.

Somehow, the studio employees had gained superpowers. Well, a singular superpower. The ink had managed to give them telekinesis. They were taking it better than Joey had expected. Susie was the one who took to it the best, managing to levitate other people, large objects, herself. She’d started teaching other people as well. The latest thing that was seen in the studio was people trying to fly. Sammy especially wanted to learn how to do it. It was apparently a dream of his. One he’d had since he was a child. That was what he was doing in the break room that day, along with Norman, Wally, and Susie. 

“Okay, grab the camera. I’m comin’ up!”

Running forward, Sammy jumped up, only to land flat on his stomach.

“Goddamnit!”

Wally laughed, which earned him a smack from Susie.

“It’s just like with anything else you move. You’re essentially using telekinesis on yourself. Here, let me show you.”

She stood up and closed her eyes, focusing her power on lifting herself off the ground. Sammy watched intently as she rose off the floor. 

“You need to focus.” She said.

“C’mon, even I can fly at this point.” Wally slapped Sammy’s back. Sammy gave him the dirtiest look anyone had ever seen him give anyone. Wally put his hands up and backed away. Norman snorted, the camera shaking a bit. Susie let herself down. 

“Now you try, Sammy.” She patted his shoulder as she walked back over. Sammy nodded and closed his eyes. Just focus. He blocked out everything, focusing on making himself rise off the ground. His feet began to leave the ground, slowly but surely. Susie gasped and clapped her hands.

“Sammy, you’re doing it!” She squealed. 

“I am?” Sammy opened one eye, falling to the ground in a heap. 

“Well, you were doing it for a second there,” Wally said. 

“I’m so proud of you!” Susie ran over and threw her arms around Sammy. “You did it!”

“T-Thanks.” Sammy smiled shakily. By the end of the week, he was able to do it on his own. Which led to him and Wally often being seen chasing each other across the ceilings. 

.

.

So, I ended up getting really into this. I even did a picture on a doll creating site! Not all of them are present, but I thought up who could be who.  This will get it’s own post because I am 100% into it. 

Here’s the doll creator X

Susie: Sailor Venus

Norman: Sailor Mercury

Sammy: Sailor Mars

Henry: Sailor Moon

Wally: Sailor Jupiter

Allison: Sailor Saturn

Joey: Tuxedo Mask

Alice: Chibi Usa

Bendy: Luna

Boris: Artemis

Thomas: Sailor Neptune

Grant: Sailor Uranus

Shawn: Sailor Pluto

[illuminating-dragons]

To Dream Again

Summary: After witnessing a horrible accident while out shopping, Ginny and Albus have a hard conversation about dreaming after loss. Warning: this story does contains discussion of death by drunk driving.

Word Count: 1,866

“Sometimes it's the scars that remind you that you survived. Sometimes the scars tell you that you have healed.” ― Ashley D. Wallis, Sometimes

              It was the worst sort of accident—one that could have been prevented.

               It would take years for Ginny to walk past that tea shop again. She and Albus were out doing a candy run for Lily’s Christmas present—she was absurdly fond of Muggle candy, and Al had promised her the biggest basket of sweets he could afford. They’d made an afternoon of it, dropping in on Neville and Hannah for a quick chat (and to Floo the enormous basket home) and buying scones at a tiny tea shop off one of the busy streets.

               There had been freezing rain the night before, and Ginny was just telling Albus to mind his steps as they came out when there was a blaring horn, a screech of tires and a heart-stopping thud of metal against flesh. Ginny had shoved her much-taller son behind her at the horn’s blare, and she saw everything.

               A young woman had been struck by a car that seemed to have spun out of control. She was lying motionless on the sidewalk, eyes wide open in shock. A young man knelt next to her, shaking and sobbing. The driver got out of the car, hand on his mouth as he stared at the couple.

               “Don’t look, Albus,” Ginny said sharply. She’d seen that stillness before, too many times.

               Albus looked anyways, eyes wide with shock.

               The man was cradling the woman’s face in his hands. “Connie, are you okay? Come on Connie, wake up. Wake up!” He realized then—Ginny saw it in his eyes. He grabbed the woman’s body, sobbing violently. “Connie, please don’t leave!”

               Ginny turned to Albus, alarmed to see her son shaking almost as badly as the man. “Al, dear, let’s go, okay?”

               Al reached out and took her hand. He hadn’t done that in years, but Ginny squeezed his hand tight and they walked quickly together away from the scene of the accident. The moment they were out of sight Ginny pulled Albus close and Apparated straight to Grimmauld Place.

               Without letting go of her son’s hand Ginny raced them both into the house. Harry and the other children were still out, apparently, because Kreacher didn’t come running to the door. The house was eerily quiet, used to the sounds of a family.

               Albus wrenched his hand out of her grip and bolted up the stairs. Ginny wanted to go after him, but she found that her knees were shaking badly. She leaned against the wall right where Mrs. Black’s portrait used to be, taking deep breaths.

               What could she say to Albus?

               She heard retching from upstairs and winced. Why did he have to see that? He was fourteen years old, for Merlin’s sake!

               You were thirteen when you saw Cedric Diggory’s dead body.

               I didn’t watch him die.

               Harry did, and he was fourteen.

               Ginny pushed herself away from the wall and went upstairs. Al was bent over the toilet, heaving with nothing coming out. He looked up at her when she came in, and Ginny’s heart broke to see the horror in his eyes.

               “Oh Al…” she knelt next to him, holding him close as she cleaned his face. Albus wasn’t heaving any longer, but he was shaking badly. “Can you stand, Al?”

               Albus nodded. Ginny gripped his hands and pulled him to his feet. He swayed and leaned against her again. Cold. He’s in shock. Ginny tightened her grip around his waist and led him to his room. His limbs were as floppy as a doll’s, and Ginny felt cold herself as she arranged her son into a comfortable position against the headboard. She summoned a Calming Draught and the teapot Luna had given them that made tea on its own. She passed Albus the draught. “Drink this, Al. You’ll have some nice tea in just a moment , okay?”

               Albus had always been pliant when he was ill, but the fact that he didn’t protest the tea—he vastly preferred coffee—frightened her. Mad-Eye, his ferret, was chittering anxiously in his cage. As the tea poured itself and added extra sugar, Ginny got up, picked up the ferret and brought him over to Albus. Mad-Eye curled up protectively on Albus’ lap. Albus stroked Mad-Eye’s ears absently and reached for the now-floating tea cup. He drank it in one. He wasn’t shaking quite so badly anymore, but his eyes were still filled with pain.

               “Al, do you want to talk about what happened?” Ginny asked gently. Al moved over on his bed and she took the hint, sitting in the empty space with her head against her son’s shoulder. “We don’t have to right now, if you don’t want to.”

               “The woman—was she dead?”

               Ginny bit her lip. “She was, darling. I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

               “Did the driver mean to kill her?”

               “I—” Ginny thought back to the man’s expression when he got out of the car. “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. Sometimes things like that happen, sweetheart. It’s a horrible tragedy, but there’s sometimes no preventing it.”

               Albus was quiet for a few moments. Mad-Eye crawled up Albus’ chest, nuzzling into his shoulder.

               “Her husband saw her die.”

               “I’m not sure whether they were married—”

               “He had a ring like Dad’s.”

               “Oh. Then yes, he did.”

               Albus looked at her, and Ginny’s heart ached. “Mum, is that how you felt when you saw Dad dead?”

               Ginny took a deep breath, memories of being nearly seventeen, standing at the front of the fighters and looking at a too-still figure in Hagrid’s massive arms, a high cold voice announcing her love’s death slamming into her.

               “I—if they were really in love, Albus, then yes, I would think so,” she managed.

               Albus bit his lip. “How is he ever going to be okay again?” he whispered.

               The room was quiet for a long few minutes. Ginny twisted her hands. How could she speak? What could she say?                “You know that your Dad and I weren’t together for the Horcrux Year, right?” she said finally.

               Albus frowned. “I know that he only brought Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron with him to hunt Horcruxes, because Professor Dumbledore told him to only tell them.”

               “He thought he was doing the right thing,” Ginny agreed. “And he was right, to a point. But before he left we broke up, Al.”

               “What?!”

               Ginny managed a smile at her son’s outrage. “Your Dad loved me dearly, and I loved him. We got together right towards the end of my fifth year, and those were the happiest weeks of my life…but after Dumbledore was killed, Harry broke up with me so that Voldemort wouldn’t come after me.”

               “But…but he loved you!”

               “He did.” Ginny pressed her hands together. “Your Dad was scared, Al. He’d lost a lot of people he loved, people who were trying to protect him, and he didn’t want that to happen to me. He couldn’t stop Ron and Hermione from coming with him, because they wouldn’t let him go alone. And I…I let him go. It was hard—the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I knew he’d come home to me if he could, someday.”                “And he did.”

               “He did,” Ginny said with a smile. Then it faded. “But in the year he was gone, I was never sure whether he was alive or dead. School was quite bad that year, with the Carrows and Snape and all of the Death Eater ‘random inspections’…they never targeted me specifically for being anything other than a Weasley, so Harry’s idea did work, but it was still awful, the not knowing.”                Al was still and quiet beside her.

               “And I had to think,” Ginny tried to speak more quickly now, because it was getting harder to get the words past the lump in her throat, “I had to think about what would happen to me if we won but he didn’t come back. I knew he wanted me to live and be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. And I loved him enough to try. I had to dream of a life that didn’t include him, one that could still bring me happiness, still have some goals to accomplish.”

               Al took her hand. “What did you dream about, Mum?”

               Ginny squeezed his hand. “I thought about becoming a Quidditch player. Maybe being a teacher, I’d always liked tutoring other students. Maybe working with Fred and George in their shop…I’ll be honest, Al, they weren’t the dreams I wanted at the time.”

               “Because you wanted to do those things with Dad?”

               Ginny nodded. “More than anything. But I tried. And then, when I thought I saw him dead….it damn near killed me, Albus, but I knew I had to keep fighting. The dreams I had for me had to come true now, because there were no other dreams.”

               “But Dad came back.”  

               “He did. And some of those dreams came true, didn’t they?” Ginny grinned weakly at her son. “And we got married, and we have a family together, and that was my dream for us. It was your Dad’s dream for us too, which was quite convenient.”

               Al rolled his eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. He soon started biting his lip again. “Will Connie’s husband have his own dreams?”

               Ginny stroked his hair. “I don’t know, darling,” she whispered. “I don’t know if either of them had any reason to dream other dreams. I made myself do that because I knew there was a real chance we wouldn’t make it through the war, but some people haven’t been touched by tragedy. They don’t know that lives can be destroyed in a heartbeat, no matter how kind or brave or wise you are. But maybe someday, probably not right away, he’ll be able to think of something he wants to do in her memory, or because she loved him and wanted him to be happy. He’ll try to dream, and it won’t be easy, but…he’s got a chance, Al.”

               Albus curled against her, Mad-Eye now perched on his shoulder. “I hope he does. I wish he didn’t have to, though.”

               “So do I, love,” Ginny replied, leaning her cheek against his and remembering all the war’s lost lovers, those left behind. Some of them had healed, others were wandering, trying to fix themselves, to build a future that didn’t hurt so much. “So do I.”

               Two weeks passed and Christmas came and went. Ginny hadn’t forgotten about the accident, but Al seemed to have bounced back, at least enough to still be smiling when he gave Lily her present.

               Three days later, Ginny picked up the Muggle paper they got occasionally and saw Connie’s facing looking out at her. The man who’d killed her had been driving drunk, and was now going to prison. Her husband, Albert, announced that he was going to make donations to foundations supporting families affected by drunk driving.

               When Albus saw the paper, and asked her quietly how to change wizarding money to Muggle money, Ginny took him to Gringotts herself.

[doverstar]

Thank you for answering my last question! I'm free from school! So I can actually think again! I was wondering, do you have difficulty staying linear? When I come up with ideas, it is all over the place. I was wondering if you have a method when plotting a story? You're currently doing a CTL sequel, so is that the same as plotting an original work?

Ew, school. Do not miss school. Yay, thinking! And you’re welcome! I have so much trouble being linear. It’s horrible.

In terms of CTL, look at every chapter where it gets in Savitar’s thought process and you’ll see that. I ramble so much. Too much thoughts and feelings, not enough action, and I couldn’t stick to the point. I hate those chapters. I hate them.I too am all over the place with ideas.But I do have a method to keep points straight most of the time. I have a document on my computer for ‘Notes’ when it comes to CTL. The sequel, The Losing Game, has a Notes document too. In Notes, I talk to myself about the fanfic. I have two whole pages explaining to myself why Savitar could be redeemed, how, and how it would make sense even in the show. Because if it doesn’t feel canon, it’s not a good fanfic. That’s my belief. I could be wrong, it’s all relative!I have a separate few paragraphs in CTL’s Notes detailing Stein’s story from beginning to end in the fic, highlighted his own color, different from the colors of the other text in the document. Wally’s got one of those too, and so does Eddie and Rag Doll. That way I could keep straight what I wanted to do with them from beginning to end, and how.Once I got that stuff out of the way, I wrote a pre-write (different from how they teach it in school, I think) for the chapters. I would write the chapter, the title, and a paragraph detailing what happens in the chapter. If I knew I wanted a certain line in there (”Caitliiiin, I got shot again!” was one of them) I would color it red and put it where it went in the chapter’s timeline. this is too longSo, in case this helps you, here’s an example of one of the chapters, straight from the document itself: 

Obviously, some of it different from System Error. Because like I said, I have trouble holding down one idea. It’s okay to go a different direction than you thought you were gonna go when you wrote the idea down; that’s part of what the kids call ‘the flow’, I think. (I’M SELF-TAUGHT, TAKE CAUTION.)And yes, it is different when you’re doing something original. Fanfiction is like somebody dumping their perfectly-dressed dolls into your lap and setting up the dollhouse for you before you arrive to play. Then you get to do whatever you want with their stuff without having to do the actual hard work of getting everything ready to play with. It’s unfair, and it’s also glorious fun.When you’re making something original, everything is hard and everything is full of doubt and I have not been upset about anything in my life the way I have been upset about making something totally original. There is nothing harder. Making your own characters, own story, own plot, own world, is stupid difficult. I have the same system with fanfiction Notes that I do with my own novels and it’s infinitely harder. I’m still learning. Just plug away at it, keep writing. That’s one thing you know you’re doing right–writing. If you stop, you’ll get rusty, and the only way forward is to keep writing (advice I need to take myself).And yes, The Losing Game is the same method as CTL. It’s actually a little easier because I don’t have to do the colossal work of making SaviSnow and Savitar’s redemption believeable; it’s all already been written and concluded (however sloppily).Happy creating, Jell-O Square! Love your questions, don’t be afraid to ask them.

[singledarkshade]

From The Ashes

Part Five

Sara stared at the man standing before her, the man she was sure up until thirty seconds ago was dead.

“Rip?” she breathed.

He nodded, “Hello, Sara.”

“Rip?” she said again.

Frowning he sighed, “We have established that yes, it is me. I am alive.”

“How?”

Shaking his head he cried, “Does it really matter?”

Realisation hit her and Sara groaned, “It’s you. You were making all the aberrations we kept detecting.”

“Of course it was me,” Rip replied with a confused shrug, “Who else would it be?”

Sara winced slightly but decided to avoid answering that question for the moment. At least until they were not standing in the middle of nowhere.

“Sara,” Nate’s voice came in her ear, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly.

“Someone just blew up the entrance into the caves,” Nate told her, “Wally has him.”

Sara frowned glancing at Rip, “Yeah, someone blew up the other entrance too.”

“Tell them to meet us at the bridge,” Rip stated, “My associate will take them.”

“Who was that?” Nate demanded.

“I’ll tell you later,” Sara replied, “We’ll meet you at the bridge. Your new friend should know where that is.”

“Shall we?” Rip motioned her forward.

Rip couldn’t stop the feeling of exhilaration that Sara was here because that meant Gideon was. He wanted to go straight back to the Waverider, to tell Gideon he was fine and then promise he would never her leave again. But first he knew he had to rescue Smith from the Legends.

They walked in silence and Rip could see the others in the distance. He took a deep breath, stunned by how apprehensive he was to see them again. Wally caught sight of him first and Rip couldn’t stop his smile when the younger man sped over to him.

“Rip?” Wally cried in astonishment grabbing him in a tight hug, “Oh, man this is amazing. You’re alive.”

“Hi Wally,” Rip smiled hugging him back slightly, “It’s good to see you.”

“Rip?” Ray’s voice came next over the others murmurs of surprise.

Sara shrugged, “Yeah, look who I found.”

“It’s about time you showed up,” Mick said.

“Good to see you, Mr Rory,” Rip said, he turned and frowned, “Constantine, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, Hunter,” Constantine said with an amused smile.

Rip caught Smith’s look of confusion but as always he didn’t say a word since they weren’t alone.

“Alright,” Sara interrupted, “We need to get out of the open. Any ideas where we can go to catch up, Rip?”

Frowning in confusion he noted, “The Waverider.” At the guilty looks on every face Rip demanded, “What?”

“We didn’t use the ship to get here,” Sara noted, not looking him in the eye, “It’s not possible at the moment.”

Annoyance filled him, “What did you do to Gideon?”

“What did we do to her?” Nate snorted wincing when both Zari and Ray smacked him on the arm.

Sara glared at the man for a second then turned back to Rip, “Let’s talk about that and everything else once we’re out of the open.”

Confused he sighed, “Fine, Smith we’ll take them back to the house. Everyone follow us.”

Finding Sara at his side as they walked he waited for the inevitable question.

“You have a house?” Sara asked as they walked back through the streets of the city.

Rip rolled his eyes, “Well I needed somewhere to stay while I was here, Sara.”

She chuckled slightly but they continued walking in silence until they reached the house.

  “Alright,” Rip stated opening the front door of his house allowing everyone inside, “Smith, take them into the drawing room and get drinks for everyone. I will be right down.”

“Rip?” Grace called urgently before she appeared from upstairs, “You’re back,” she stalled seeing the others there.

He nodded to her, “It’s alright, Grace they’re...friends.”

“Your power source is gone,” Grace told him, “It was taken, I tried to stop the woman but she had...she had powers.”

Panic filled him, “Beth?”

“She’s fine,” Grace assured him quickly, “But she’s in your room and refuses to sleep without you in the house.”

Rip frowned glancing over to the room the others were now in, Sara leaning in the doorway, “Okay, help Smith with our guests while I check on Beth. I’ll be down as soon as I get her settled. However we more than likely will have guests tonight.”

Grace nodded pausing when he rested his hand on her arm concerned, “I’m fine.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Rip told her before he started upstairs to check on his sister.

Opening the door to his bedroom Rip caught Beth when she ran across the bed and jumped at him.

“It’s okay,” he soothed hugging her and stroking her back as she wrapped herself around him tightly, “You’re okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“She took your glowing box,” Beth told him, “I tried to stop her but she took it.”

Rip frowned, “Beth, you shouldn’t have done that. You should have stayed hidden.”

“Grace needed help,” Beth told him.

Rip set her on the bed and sat beside her, “That’s not your job. You never ever put yourself in danger. Do you understand me?”

“But...”

“No, Beth,” he stopped her, “Promise me you will never do anything like that again.”

A pout appeared on her face before she sighed, “I promise.”

“That’s my girl,” Rip hugged her again. He pulled back and stroked her cheek, “Okay, I have some friends downstairs who will be staying the night. I’m going to let some use your room. Do you want to stay with Grace or...”

“With you,” Beth said instantly.

Rip smiled pulling back the covers, “Slide in and go to sleep.”

Beth suddenly hugged him tightly, “There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered in his ear.

“It’s okay,” Rip whispered back, “I know.” Tucking her in he handed Beth her doll before calling, “If you hold on, Sara I’ll walk you down.” Turning back to his sister Rip told her, “If you need me I’ll be right downstairs.”

Beth nodded, “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Rip kissed her forehead before leaving her to sleep.

  Sara winced when Rip called out to her from inside the room. Okay she probably shouldn’t have followed him up here but curiosity had gotten the better of her. Standing outside the bedroom listening to the conversation Sara wondered how long Rip had been here. Even from this angle, where she was only able to see a small part of the room in the mirror, it was clear the little girl was related to Rip and she began to wonder how long he’d been stuck here.

“Did you get everything you wanted to know?” Rip demanded as he stepped into the hall gently closing the door behind him.

Sara grimaced before asking, “How long have you been here?”

“Just over a year,” Rip replied, motioning her to start walking.

“Hold on,” she frowned, “Only a year? But the little girl is about four, five?”

Rip smiled slightly, “She’s six actually.”

Sara frowned trying to get her head around this, “So when exactly did you have her? Because there is no way you can deny that she’s yours.”

“Beth isn’t my daughter,” Rip noted as they walked down the stairs, “She’s my sister.”

“What?”

Rip let out a long sigh leaning against the walls at the bottom of the stairs, “We are about eight months since the Time Masters picked me up in an alley. I actually sent myself to that meeting.”

Sara stared at him in disbelief, “You sent your younger self to the Time Masters? Even knowing what was going to happen to him...you...you know what I mean.”

“What you’re forgetting, Sara is that time wants to happen,” Rip reminded her, “Trying to change my own past especially would lead to a situation where I would not be here to change it and that would have created more problems than we already have.”

“It couldn’t have been easy.”

He shrugged, “I got Beth back and I can take care of her properly which I will never regret. Now, let’s get back to the others and you can tell me where my ship is.”

  Rip took a deep breath as he followed Sara into the drawing room where the Legends were sitting around waiting. Smith and Grace were in a corner talking softly, they looked up when Rip walked in and he gave them a small nod.

“Alright,” Rip demanded, “What’s going on? Because every time I have mentioned Gideon, or the Waverider, every single one of you have winced and looked exceedingly guilty. What did you do to her?”

All heads turned to Sara who rolled her eyes before she took a deep breath, “Okay. When we released Mallas a load of other things were released as well.”

“I am well aware of that,” Rip noted, folding his arms across his chest, “Since I deal with them on a regular basis and we trapped a lot of them in the caves tonight.”

Sara nodded, “Okay, that’s good to know.”

“Just tell him, Sara,” Constantine spoke up, “Get it over with so we can get on with this.”

Rip’s frown became more pronounced and the fear set in that he would never Gideon back, “What happened?”

“After an encounter with one of the things,” Sara started, “Constantine used a spell and Gideon...well Gideon...”

“What happened to Gideon?” Rip yelled at her.

Sara winced but it was Ray who spoke up, “She became human.”

Rip stalled turning to the other man, “She what?”

“She became human but something else happened,” Ray grimaced turning to Constantine to pick up the story.

Constantine stepped forward taking over, “When Gideon became human her emotions were raw and exposed which allowed one of the creatures to attach to her. It used her grief and somehow persuaded her that she had been made human to destroy the Time Bureau and the Legends,” he paused for a moment, “A few days ago she trapped Sara and Sharpe in a burning building.”

Rip shook his head, “Gideon could never...”

“She thinks you’re with her,” Constantine cut him off, “Gideon thinks you’re asking her to do this and if we don’t stop her now then she will do much worse.”

Shaking his head Rip walked out the room.

  Sara frowned as Rip stalked out understandably upset. Again all heads turned to her and she sighed.

“One day someone else is on Rip duty,” she muttered starting after him.

“He’ll be in his study,” Smith told her, “Upstairs at the end of the hall.”

Sara nodded, “Everyone, stay here.”

“I will make some supper,” Grace spoke up.

“Sounds great,” Sara smiled at her before she took a breath and headed after Rip.

The house was actually quite nice, Sara mused as she walked up the stairs. It looked as though people lived here but there was no way to know who they were. In many ways it was very Rip. Reaching the study she peeked in seeing him standing in front of an open cupboard staring into it.

Knocking gently she called, “Is it safe to come in?”

Rip glanced round at her, “I have spent almost a full year creating aberrations in the hopes that Gideon would spot them and know I was calling. Now you tell me...”

“I know how hard this is especially for you,” Sara said softly, “But we now have a chance to bring her back.”

Turning to her Rip frowned confused.

“This thing that is pretending to be you has created bond with her,” Sara explained, “Constantine said only she can break it and the only way she will is if you persuade her. Rip, we thought we would have to kill her before she killed us. This gives us a chance now to save Gideon.”

Turning back to the empty cupboard, Rip nodded, “We save her.”

Part Six

[ryttu3k]

Time for Atsuko to face PLOT.

The team:

Chickweed the Blaziken | level 50 | male | Blaze | Serious, takes plenty of siestas | Flame Charge, Blaze Kick, Double Kick, Cut | starter

Snowdrop the Mightyena | level 48 | female | Intimidate | Lonely, loves to eat | Ice Fang, Crunch, Odor Sleuth, Rock Smash | found route 101

Sage the Claydol | level 45 | no thank you | Levitate | Bold, sturdy body | Earth Power, Extrasensory, Ancient Power, Dazzling Gleam | found route 111

Oleracea the Manectric | level 44 | female | Static | Brave, capable of taking hits | Discharge, Volt Switch, Thunder Wave, Bite | found route 118

Sequoia the Gyarados | level 42 | female | Intimidate | Bashful, nods off a lot | Surf, Ice Fang, Crunch, Dive | found route 106

Edelweiss the Skarmory | level 42 | male | Sturdy | Gentle, very finicky | Assurance, Steel Wing, Fly, Swift | found route 113

...Good luck, everyone XD;;

Hmm. I am going to need someone with Strength - oh whoops, first encounter. Golbat. Well, them’s the rules! Level 33 female, will name her Tacca. Bat flowers!

Anyway. Strength. Okay, Oli’s Bite is a bit redundant considering Snowdrop and Sequoia both have Crunch (and Snowdrop’s is STAB). Now, on to that Grunt! Leads with Carvanha, level 39. Oli makes quick work of it. Next is Mightyena, level 39. I mean, level 50 Fighting type, so...

Next Grunt, has Golbat, level 41. Oli’s again!

Next room, next Grunt. Carvanha, level 41, Oli’s again. This feels familiar!

Okay, dead end or ledge. Let’s backtrack. Block puzzle XD;;

And now a water puzzle! Scald TM! Ugh I need to keep Surf and Dive on Sequoia, or I’d totally go for it.

More blocks, and a grunt! Leads with Mightyena, level 38. Over to Chickweed, now level 51. Sorry, pupper. Next is Muk, level 40. Over to Sage! Oops, not quite a OHKO and Sage took a poison. Took it down next move and got all healed up.

Block puzzle again. So many blocks.

EARTHQUAKE TM. ...No one for now. Sage is a special attacker and 100 physical power on 72 atk is not as good as 90 special power on 87 sp.atk... I think?

This path looks very ominous. Pretty sure Archie leads with Mightyena, so Chickie to the lead!

ATSUKO NEEDS AN ADULT.

ALRIGHT ARCHIE YOU’RE ON. Yup, first up, Mightyena, level 41. You want Mega Evolution? Try a level 51 Blaziken Double Kicking your pup to Alola! Next up is Muk, level 41. All yours, Sage! Earth Power, they tank a Gunk Shot, and finish it off with Extrasensory! Next, Crobat, level 41! Sage CAN take this, but we’ll give it to Oli instead. Oops, Poison Fang. Poisoned but she’s okay, OHKOs it with Discharge! Last up is Sharpedo, level 43. Too bad, Oli still OHKOs it ;D

Atsuko’s determined li’l face is so cute. SEE, SUN AND MOON. YOU CAN MAKE PROTAGS EMOTE.

Shelly PLEASE be the voice of reason. Oh goddammit Archie. And Shelly and Maxie just run off and leave the twelve-year-old there thanks guys.

YOU FUCKED UP ARCHIE.

Yup just leave the twelve-year-old on a sandbar in the middle of an apocalyptic storm thanks guys. Oh FINALLY Steven shows up. How about a lift to Sootopolis? STEVEN WHY ARE YOU LEAVING THE CHILD THERE TOO. So rude! Everyone is so rude! I’ll just go to Sootopolis MYSELF FINE JEEZ.

Oh there you are Steven. Hi, Steven! Hi, Steven’s friend who is definitely not wearing underwear! I love how the scene is like, uber serious but then there’s Wallace who’s dressed like a stripper. Aquas and a Magma! I now have a hella wetsuit.

“No. You are not acting as a mere child today.” TWELVE YEARS OLD.

“... ... ... Sorry. I’m begging, so... Save us... the world... and Kyogre...” COOL BEGGING, STILL TWELVE.

Oh hi Brendan. That’s nice of you. My best friend is Wally, though.

Into the Cave of Origin!

First encounter... Golbat. Dupes clause! Ohh, SABLEYE. Nice! He’s level 35. Name... Ebony.

And... we’re here. Atsuko suits up! HI KYOGRE I LOVE YOU AND YOU’RE SILLY-LOOKING.

I do love Archie’s message tbh.

Alrighty. Methods. Of my team members, Chickweed and Sage are right out, they’re both weak to Water. Sequoia and Edel both resist Water, so they’re my best options. Sequoia’s actually a bit tankier, so once it’s paralysed, I’ll switch to her. My battle plan is: throw a Quick Ball. If that doesn’t work, Thunder Wave, do as much damage as I can, then throw my Net Ball. If that doesn’t work, Master Ball. I do not want to turn this into a prolonged battle, that’s how you get your Pokemon killed!

Man, Primal Kyogre looks so much cooler than the regular forme.

Quick Ball fails. It did get to the third rock, though! Body Slam, Oli tanks it. Thunder Wave and it’s paralysed! Can’t move :D Volt Switch it - oof, that did like no damage - and switch to Sequoia. She gets a Crunch in, then it Aqua Rings, oof. Another Crunch. It uses Origin Pulse, Sequoia tanks it. She’s on just over half, so I’ll try the Net Ball now? Nope. Paralysed, hah. Ohh, Crunched into the reds! Heck, let’s try a Premier Ball. For funsies. Okay no that didn’t work XD Yeah alright after more healing/damage/et cetera, I’ll just throw the fuckin’ Master Ball XD;;

Kyogre get. I will name you Wakame.

Saved the world <3

“It’s... so warm...”

Got the Blue Orb, the Eon Flute, and the dokis.

What an interesting red flower near the tree :)

Sablenite, Brick Break TM, Infestation TM in the most alarming dialogue, Wailmer doll, and we shall call it a day! :D

Current Team

Chickweed the Blaziken | level 52 | male | Blaze | Serious, takes plenty of siestas | Flame Charge, Blaze Kick, Double Kick, Cut | starter

Snowdrop the Mightyena | level 50 | female | Intimidate | Lonely, loves to eat | Ice Fang, Crunch, Odor Sleuth, Rock Smash | found route 101

Sage the Claydol | level 47 | no thank you | Levitate | Bold, sturdy body | Earth Power, Extrasensory, Ancient Power, Dazzling Gleam | found route 111

Oleracea the Manectric | level 46 | female | Static | Brave, capable of taking hits | Discharge, Volt Switch, Thunder Wave, Strength | found route 118

Sequoia the Gyarados | level 44 | female | Intimidate | Bashful, nods off a lot | Surf, Ice Fang, Crunch, Dive | found route 106

Edelweiss the Skarmory | level 43 | male | Sturdy | Gentle, very finicky | Assurance, Steel Wing, Fly, Swift | found route 113

Reserves

Wattle the Taillow | level 9 | female | Guts | Quirky, alert to sounds | Peck, Growl, Focus Energy, Quick Attack | found Petalburg Woods

Bristlecone the Zigzagoon | level 14 | female | Gluttony | Lonely, good endurance | Tackle, Headbutt, Baby-Doll Eyes, Odor Sleuth | found route 103

Onion the Whismur | level 16 | female | Soundproof | Adamant, likes to relax | Pound, Echoed Voice, Astonish, Howl | found Rusturf Tunnel

Poison Ivy the Tentacool | level 5 | male | Liquid Ooze | Sassy, capable of taking hits | Poison Sting, Supersonic | found Dewford Town

Euphorbia the Makuhita | level 12 | male | Thick Fat | Hardy, capable of taking hits | Focus Energy, Sand Attack, Arm Thrust, Fake Out | found Granite Cave

Lithops the Numel | level 14 | female | Simple | Quiet, likes to run | Tackle, Ember, Focus Energy, Magnitude | found route 112

Rauvolfia the Seviper | level 19 | male | Shed Skin | Careful, impetuous and silly | Poison Tail, Screech, Venoshock, Glare | found route 114

Moraea the Spoink | level 23 | female | Own Tempo |  Quirky, quick tempered | Psybeam, Psych Up, Confuse Ray, Magic Coat | found Jagged Pass

Agapanthus the Pelipper | level 33 | male | Keen Eye | Modest, a little quick-tempered | Water Pulse, Wing Attack, Steel Wing, Quick Attack | found route 104

Rosemary the Latias | level 30 | female | Levitate | Sassy, somewhat vain | Heal Pulse, Dragon Breath, Mist Ball, Psycho Shift | found Southern Island

Milkweed the Beautifly | level 26 | female | Swarm | Lax, somewhat stubborn | Air Cutter, Mega Drain, Silver Wind, Morning Sun | found route 102

Hydrangea the Kecleon | level 25 | male | Color Change | Lonely, often lost in thought | Feint Attack, Psybeam, Ancient Power, Slash | found route 119

Sunflower the Castform | level 30 | female | Forecast | Lax, mischievous Rain Dance, Sunny Day, Hail, Weather Ball | found Weather Institute

Banana the Tropius | level 27 | male | Solar Power | Brave, a little quick tempered | Stomp, Magical Leaf, Whirlwind, Leaf Tornado | found route 120

Uniflora the Shuppet | level 28 | female | Insomnia | Mild, alert to sounds | Will-O-Wisp, Feint Attack, Hex, Curse | found route 121

Monotropa the Duskull | level 28 | female | Levitate | Naughty, loves to eat | Foresight, Shadow Sneak, Pursuit, Will-O-Wisp | found Mt Pyre

Tacca the Golbat | level 33 | female | Inner Focus | Hardy, strong-willed | Air Cutter, Switft, Poison Fang, Mean Look | found Seafloor Cavern

Ebony the Sableye | level 35 | male | Keen Eye | Calm, highly curious | Knock Off, Shadow Claw, Confuse Ray, Zen Headbutt | found Cave of Origin

Wakame the Kyogre | level 45 | no thank you | Drizzle | Sassy, mischievous | Body Slam, Aqua Ring, Ice Beam, Origin Pulse | found Cave of Origin

Dead

Catnip the Skitty, found route 116, killed by Lass Janice’s Marill in route 116

Daisy the Pikachu, found Slateport City, killed by Archie’s Sharpedo at Mount Chimney

[canaryatlaw]

Well, if yesterday was heartening today was tiring and stressful. I am not doing well, guys. I had a full day but I feel so unbelievably tired from it I've legit felt like I was half asleep for the last 6 hours, including through class where I actually stumbled over spelling my own last name. And my brain is just constantly racing. I know this is all bad, I just really don't want to go to a doctor, or at least a physical one, because that would mean really acknowledging something is wrong and I'm very scared for what they might say. I don't have a great track record with doctors, and they're normally pretty shitty at actually figuring out what's wrong with me (see: the shitshow that was my junior year of college). And there's the whole mono thing. Doctors are shitty at interpreting mono tests so if I go in and get tested because I've had it a bunch of times before it will show up in some form on the test even though it's not actually active, and doctors who don't know what they're doing will take that to mean it's active and it'll just generally fuck things up, because I really cannot afford to have mono right now. I just can't. Everything is going so well. I'm actually happy, for once, with just about everything in my life, and I'm making such awesome progress towards my goals, I can't just give up on that. Like it's just not a plausible option. So I don't know what to do. Today just affirmed that this next week is gonna be insanely busy for me and I feel annoy even just thinking about all of it. Maybe after it's all over though things will get better? I can at least keep telling myself that for now. Sigh. Anyway, I should actually talk about my day. Alarm went off at 7, and I convinced myself to get out of bed like the good little solider that I am. Got ready, went to work, and spent a little while editing my legal writing assignment because I didn't have anything else to do (I emailed a copy of it to myself so I could work on it on my work computer) and managed to write the conclusion and other necessary paragraphs I had to add, as well as shifting things around a bit. I did feel like I was going more with what I thought made sense than specifically what the prof might want, but I'm not gonna turn in an assignment that doesn't make any damn sense to me. It's all small potatoes anyway, so I'm not very concerned. From here I would just have to make any final edits on it, and then actually write the damn motion. This was making my anxious for most of the day, because I somehow got into my mind the word limit for the motion was 2,000 words when it in fact doesn't have a limit. I just have about a 3 hour span tomorrow in which I can actually write this thing, and it's not impossible but it's not gonna be pleasant. Sigh. I did get some work then that was "trial prep" which ended up being fairly boring as it was just going through a giant stack of documents, most of them fairly innocuous, and summarize each one. Meh, whatever. Did that until lunch, then after lunch I went down to court because I had been told there was a good trial going on, and boy was that the case. The GAL on the case gave me the fact pattern to read so I could know what was going on and at first I was confused because they kept switching from words like "natural father" to "uncle" and I was like ??? But then I figured out that the abuse had been perpetrated against the baby cousin of this family who was temporarily living with them, and this case is now regarding the two sons. It was a rough one, and the dad is awaiting trial on multiple charges of aggravated battery of a child and the baby has almost no neurological functioning from it. What made this all interesting was that the parents had retained a private attorney which is exceedingly rare in abuse/neglect court, and even if we do get one they're generally a bar attorney who consistently work with the system. But truly private attorneys that wind up here never have any idea wha they're doing, and that was apparent here. He's apparently also the dad's criminal attorney, so I guess he figured he could just handle this too....not so much. His argument was like "well the kid's mom said once he sometimes has head banging behaviors and another child relative of theirs had seizures so he could've had one of those, and shaken baby syndrome is controversial right now" as if that counters all the medical testimony the state presented. He is correct in saying shaken baby syndrome is somewhat controversial in the legal community and has been challenged in a number of cases, but here there was ample evidence to support it. The lawyer also managed to refer to the baby victim as an "it" multiple times, as well as calling him "a ticking time bomb the would rip their family apart" which you could tell the judge was like, lol no. Then he was also like "so the kids are a little overweight, so what?" except that's not exactly the case when your 3 year old weighs 90 FUCKING POUNDS. My sister weighed 30 pounds until she was like 6, and still probably doesn't weigh 90 points 9 years later. That is a morbidly obese child, lol. So that was entertaining, then the father had an outburst at the end and tried to storm out on the judge and it did NOT go well for him haha it was kind of great. Went back upstairs after that, and hashed out the argument I would make for my contested motion that's up next week as I'll be heading to DC on Thursday and won't be in the office. My supervisor informed me that the state was opposing us on this motion for whatever reason, which means a 4 other parties are opposing me on my first contested motion. Lovely, lol. I know it's a judgment call on the part of the judge though and I'm telling myself not to get my hopes up, and I know that if it doesn't get granted it will probably have to do more with how the judge views the law than how I argued it. So that took up the rest of my day at work. When I went to check my app to see when the bus was coming, I was informed it wasn't coming for another half hour (which is the second time that has happened to me on two totally separate bus routes in the last 3 days) and I needed to be in class in 50 minutes, so that clearly wasn't an option. Thankfully it was nice out and it's not a very long walk to the train station, so I made it there in a reasonable amount of time. Class was boring, and as I said I was like falling asleep so that didn't help. My cross went well though, so that's good. We got out around 7:45, so I headed home. Wheelchair homeless guy, who I'm going to start calling Louis now that I know his name is Louis, was at the train station again, so I stopped and spoke with him for a little while. He asked again when I was gonna come visit him, and I promised I would as soon as my life calms down a little bit and I'm not so insanely busy, and I fully intent on making good on that promise when I'm able to. Got home and turned on legends from the start as the actual episode was finishing up. Solid episode, didn't like it quite as much as last week's but still definitely enjoyable. The setting and premise were interesting, I'm confused as o when in time Rip enlisted the help of the JSA to help hide the pieces of the spear of destiny, and if he came to them in 1956 wouldn't Stargirl look a hell of a lot older? This episode didn't contain enough Stargirl IMO, and no other episode probably will now. The Ray plot struck me as kind of odd, but it was fine. I saw the whole Stein/Mick thing coming it it was still immensely satisfying to watch that backfire on Stein so fantastically. Guinevere was amazing, and her interactions with Sara (including the kiss at the end) were perfection. King Arthur himself was find, though he didn't get to do much other than be mind controlled. And of course evil Rip is here and gonna cause all sorts of trouble next week which I'm looking forward to. So yeah, good episode. I turned on the flash afterwards as it was still fairly early, and it was pretty good as well. I of course adored all the Wally/Jessie interactions because they were just gold. I fully expected Grodd to have concocted this whole plan just to get Caitlin to come to him, lol, but of course it was more complicated than that and that will continue next week, which should be interesting. Okay, that's it and did I mention I'm tired? Sleep now. Goodnight dolls. Stay awesome.

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 2

A/N: And here is part 2! Wow, this chapter is pretty angsty because I believe everyone would react differently to their significant other’s private sexual orientation. It’s pretty clear that Dick Grayson is finally letting himself be free (he’s clearly bisexual, if that wasn’t clear) even if it’s cheating on Y/N. But Jason Todd is straight in this story, despite the running gay jokes in this story. The reason why is Y/N (you lol) is clearly upset when she finds out her perfect boyfriend is bisexual, and she wants to take out her anger on Jason, when he’s clearly in her league. But of course, during this story, some people in this story are not going to be okay with Dick’s secret sexual orientation, so I’ll post more warnings as this goes along. Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. Otherwise, enjoy the story!

@melaninkpops @randomdcfangirl

 Warnings: Language and talks of sex.

  It’s like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. I’ve become almost like a zombie; I’m holding my knees to my chest while I sit up against the wall in my living room because I’ve lost the ability to move or say anything. Tonight’s truth just keeps replaying in my head.

My boyfriend Dick Grayson…having sex with another guy…even though he’s supposed to be my boyfriend.

My boyfriend is supposed to be attracted to me.

My boyfriend is supposed to be in love with me.

MY BOYFRIEND SHOULD ONLY WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH ME!

Just the thought of Dick bending over for another guy for anal sex just makes me feel so disgusted. Because what if he has had anal sex with Wally or some other guy?

What if Dick has sucked cock before and let another guy suck his cock?

The images of Dick topping Wally only makes me wonder what else they have done. Would I even want to know? Should I have to know?

The questions become poison to my mind. I can feel my stomach hurt more with every passing doubt and fear. I tremble from just thinking of my boyfriend and what he’s doing now.

Cuddling? Kissing? Is he telling Wally West he loves him again?

Dick is supposed to be my prince charming. I’ve always (and secretly) imagined him riding a white horse to my apartment. As cheesy as that sounds, Dick has been the only guy who can pull off being so alluring and kind. He’s the guy who can make me smile during a thunderstorm. The way he pushes his dark hair back and grins like an underwear supermodel and the way he holds me all the time because he’s just a big cuddly guy at heart.

But then Dick changed…or maybe this is who he really is even though our relationship was just a...

Show.

But wasn’t I enough?

Was I just not beautiful enough for Dick?

Was I…just a girl who he realized he doesn’t want right now?

Oh shit…

What if he’s…gay?

No, no he can’t be totally gay. I mean, Dick has had several of girlfriends throughout his entire life.

Barbara Gordon.

Starfire.

Zatanna.

Dove.

He even flirted with Raven!

Bruce always joked around with us that Dick was a mini-me to him. Bruce and Dick were ladies’ men for fucks sake.

Which could explain why Tim would follow after Bruce and Dick’s every move and has had his fair share of relationships with Stephanie Brown and Cassie Sandsmark. Hell, even Damian has admitted he and Raven had a fling last summer.

If anyone is gay or bisexual, it must be Jason fucking Todd. The man who looks like he’d fuck any living thing. Which could explain why everyone jokes that Jason, Roy, and Kori had a threesome relationship.

It’s a fucking running gag that no one has seemed to stop, despite Roy and Kori becoming more serious and committed to one another over the years.

Why couldn’t Jason be gay or bisexual?

Why does my Dick Grayson have to be?

My fucking tears piss me off when I realize I’m crying like a fucking baby. I bite my bottom lip, and I pull my hair as tight as I could.

I haven’t been cheated on before but for some reason, I feel like being cheated on isn’t the problem.

The problem is clearly Dick, who felt the need to hide his true self. He obviously didn’t trust me enough, even though we knew each other for such a long fucking time. If he had told me he was bisexual, then maybe I would have been okay with it. Maybe I could have trusted him and be with him.

A knock on the door startles me. I wipe away my tears and stand up to get it. Slowly answering the door, I see Jason standing there. Wearing his dark pants and red hoodie, I set aside to allow him to come in.

“Are you okay, Y/N? What the fuck happened?” Jason asks worriedly. He follows me to the couch where I throw myself down.

Should I tell Jason? Should I tell him everything? What if he already knows? But what if he doesn’t know?

Jason’s ocean blue eyes stare down at me; filled with concern and worry. I’ve actually never seen him look so…serious about me. The way he gazes at me and how his strong jawline really is shows me I’ve never really looked at him before.

He’s attractive, and he clearly knows that. It’s as if one of Jason’s powers is self-confidence. He proudly shows off his handsome features, the ‘J’ scar, and his body that’s built like a sex God. I force myself to shake my head and ignore my inner thoughts because whether I like it or not, I still have a boyfriend.

Who has a secret boyfriend of his own.

“My life…is ruined,” I start off. I sigh, because even I don’t believe myself. “Everything I thought I knew…ended up being…a lie, I guess.”

“Which is…what?” Jason motions me to continue.

I begin to crack under pressure. It’s not like I have my parents or any siblings alive to tell, or my good friend Artemis Crock (who is supposedly on a vacation with Zatanna and M’gann in the Bahamas but should be back this weekend), so who the hell am I supposed to tell?

The more I keep it in is when I’ll blow up. I have a feeling I’ll take Jason’s guns and go shoot Dick and Wally’s kneecaps.

I turn to face Jason, and I realize he’s scooted closer to me. He slowly moves a hand to my knee and rubs it reassuringly. The tears fall again, but this time Jason wipes them with his thumb.

“He’s...Dick’s…sleeping with Wally,” I whisper. Just saying it out loud feels strange and as if it’s not real at all. “I-I went to his apartment and I saw them.”

Jason’s eyes widen. He quickly removes his hand off my knee and stands up. Within seconds, he’s pacing around my living room. Jason’s hands clench into fists and he scoffs. “So, he’s fucking gay, and he’s dating you? What a fucking idiot?! If he wanted to go around and fuck guys’ assholes, then why not tell you the truth and break up with you? Who the fuck does he think he is? The second any of us has a secret, Bruce fucking loses his shit and makes us tell him! But what, Dick’s the golden child and can keep a fucking secret about his gayness? That’s not fucking cool. I fucking despise that. I despise how he’s been stringing you along and isn’t even attracted to a fucking beautiful girl like you,” Jason growls under his breath.

“I-I think he’s still attracted to me. I mean, we’ve done things before…just not lately,” I defend Dick. I suppose Jason didn’t know about Dick either.

“Dick’s eaten you out before?”

“Yes.”

“You mean to tell me he’s eaten that beautiful, delicious pussy of yours?” Jason asks seriously.

“I-how would you know about my pussy, Jason? We’ve never slept together and you sure as hell have never seen me naked!” I cry out in pure anger.

Jason smirks. He sits back down and makes me face him. “So, Dick has pleasured you before and you really feel like he is still attracted to you? Okay, then he’s clearly bisexual. The question is: he’s barely acting on his sexual feelings or whatever fucking shit he’s doing. The thing is Y/N, he cheated on you. I don’t care that he’s bi, but he shouldn’t have fucking cheated on you. That’s low…even for the golden boy. Now, what are you going to do about it?” Jason asks me.

“I don’t know. I just…don’t want to think about it right now. What can I do? I can’t change him. I can’t make him straight and want…me. It just fucking hurts so much,” I confess. Jason sits back and pulls me over so he’s holding me tightly. “Jay…what are you doing?”

“Holding you…duh.”

“Y-you never hold me. You’ve never held me,” I point out.

“I’m comforting you, doll. Is that such a crime?” Jason asks curiously.

“Well, honestly I didn’t think you liked me. I always thought that you thought I was annoying and didn’t want me around the manor or even in the Batfamily,” I admit softly. I turn my face, so my face is in his sweater. He smells like Old Spice and some kind of expensive cologne.

“Well, I didn’t think you liked me either so…that’s why I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you,” Jason reveals before chuckling. “I like you. You…don’t piss me off as much as other people.”

“You don’t piss me off that much either. So, I obviously like you too,” I say, even when my voice is muffled.

Jason gently pulls me away so he can look at me. “You know, if you ever need someone…I’m around,” he tells me.

“I’m around too.”

My cell phone dings with new notifications. I quickly jump up from the couch and get it off the kitchen counter where I left it. Dick texted me.

Hey sweetheart! I just got back from patrol with my brothers. I’m soooo tired so I think I’ll sleep over here, and I’ll see you in the morning. Is that okay?

I scoff softly. He claims to be tired from patrolling, but I know it’s from fucking his secret boyfriend all night long. But obviously, he doesn’t know that I know so I have to play along.

Hi babe. That’s good! I’m glad you got home safely. Yeah, I’m already falling asleep, so I’ll see you in the morning too.

Okay, I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast. Oh, and don’t forget! The Wayne Family Barbecue is tomorrow, and everyone is coming back from their vacations and missions to go! It’s going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, sweetheart.  I love you Y/N.

See you in the morning. I love you too. Goodnight. I text back. I fight the urge to out him on the phone just so he knows that I know.

I could just imagine Dick panicking and flipping the fuck out if I threaten to tell his family. But a voice inside me tells me not to.

It’s my fucking heart. I hate it so much right now.

I slam my phone down. Who the fuck does Dick think he is? Does he honestly sleep well at night knowing that he’s cheating on me with his best friend? Does he honestly not give a fuck about me?

“Why am I not enough? What...is wrong with me? Why can’t I be with Dick wants?” I barely whisper. My throat tightens from crying.

“No, Y/N. You’re more than enough. Nothing is wrong with you. You just...you need someone who sees you as their world and beyond. You’ll find him, I know it.”

Jason sneaks up behind me and rubs my back. I feel the sickness returning to my stomach, and I turn around into Jason’s arms, where he holds me and doesn’t judge me.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. If I-I had known, I would have told you. You don’t deserve this,” Jason whispers in my ear. He keeps rubbing my back. “I would never hurt you.”

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t hurt me in general, or that if you were gay or bi that you wouldn’t hurt me?” I ask.

“Well, I sure as hell am not gay or bi. I love women, doll. But I guess if I had a secret like that, I would tell you. I just…thought Dick would have been different, I guess.”

I pull away and look up at him. Jason’s taller than Dick, so I feel like a little ant compared to Jason, who is clearly a fucking tree. “Wait, Dick said the Wayne Family Barbecue is tomorrow? Everyone’s going?”

“Oh shit, really? I must have forgotten about that. Well, I guess everyone is going, yeah,” Jason answers, before his eyes widen. “Wally’s going to be there, too.”

I cover my face. “What the fuck am I going to do, Jason?” I scream.

“Look doll, I’ll be there too, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you get through it, okay? We just can’t tell anyone else about this, all right? Because honestly, I don’t know what Bruce would do if he found out about Dick and Wally. He might fucking kill him or something,” Jason says.

“Bruce is against gays? B-but there are gay, lesbians, and other LGBTQ people in the league. He can’t be homophobic!” I panic.

“I’m not saying he is, but Bruce is…a little more old-fashioned than what some people might think. Dick is like his first son, and Dick has always been the perfect fucking Robin, and Bruce might think Dick’s sexual orientation would change his public image and superhero image. I just think it would be best if no one found out about it right now, okay? Let’s just keep this between us, until we figure something out. Dick is my brother, and as much as I love fucking ruining his and my other brothers’ lives, this is pretty serious,” Jason advises seriously.

I nod my head in agreement. If Jason thinks this is the right thing to do, then it must be; since I have no other plans to handle this.

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone. But Jason? Just between us, I can’t be with Dick anymore. Not after he…cheated on me,” I confess.

It hurt a lot. Just confessing how I can’t be with Dick anymore fills me with nothing but endless pain.

“I know,” Jason says softly. He takes my hands in his until I look up into his eyes. “But just know this: I know for a fact that…Dick loved you. He really cared about you, Y/N. But whatever he’s going through, maybe it’s been eating at him for a long fucking time, not that doesn’t excuse cheating on you.”

I bite my bottom lip. I know Jason means well, but I honestly don’t know if I could believe any men ever again. All they seem to do is break hearts, lie, keep secrets, and use you just because they’re ashamed or hiding their own sexuality.

But deep down inside, I know Dick loved me before; just like deep down, I’ll always love him.

But I can’t deal with love anymore.

Fuck love.

“Yeah, but you know what, Jason? I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to be close to anyone. I don’t want to fall in love ever again. Love fucking hurts, and if this is how it’s going to be every time I fall for a guy, then…it’s just not worth it. It’s not worth the troubles. It’s not worth the happiness. It’s not worth the excruciating pain. Once Dick decides to stop using me and our relationship to hide his love for Wally,” I say, before I sob at the end. “I want nothing to do with the Batfamily ever again. I want out of it. I honestly never want to see him or any of you again. Because…being a part of the Batfamily was the best thing in my life…”

Jason’s crystal blue eyes tear up. “Y/N…you don’t mean that. Y-you can’t mean that…” he chokes out.

“I do. I mean every word of it,” I stand my ground.

“Doll, please…let me help you fix this. I-I don’t want you to leave our family. I mean, you can’t just abandon me,” Jason’s voice breaks down. He looks as if he’s in pain as well, except I don’t know why. “Give me one chance. Give me just one chance to show you no every fucking guy is going to hurt you. Please Y/N…”

I can’t hear it anymore. If I have to surrender for the night, then so be it. “Fine, but I’m tired and I need to go to sleep. I need to…try to forget about tonight.”

Jason nods his head and heads to the door with me behind him. He steps out and glances back at me.

“If you need me…” Jason whispers.

“You’re around,” I finish for him.

Jason opens his mouth to speak but closes it. He ends up leaving without another word. I shut the door and lock up for the night. My body is weak. My mind is fried. I find myself stumbling to the couch and I end up falling to sleep there for the night. The second my eyes close to fall into the darkness of the night, my cell phone dings again.

I reach over to the coffee table and get it; only to see the notification is from that same Unknown number. I slowly open to see the new text message.

It’s killing you, isn’t it? I can just imagine you lying down, feeling sorry for yourself, despising everyone else who may or may not have known, and how you feel as if your world is over. You must have decided to protect Dick Grayson, isn’t that right?

I feel as if I’m stepping into a pit of fire. This is becoming dangerous territory right now.

Whatever I do now doesn’t concern you. Thanks for telling me the truth, but I don’t need anymore help from you. Good-bye.

If you stop fucking responding to me, I’ll make sure Bruce Wayne finds out first, you little bitch!

I gasp at the screen. What the hell is going on?

Now that I got your depressive attention, maybe now you’ll see I’m not just going to disappear when you say so. Now listen to me, Y/N. I’m not someone who you can just delete from your phone. I’m not someone who you can block from other electronic devices. I’m not someone you can just wish away on a bright star, because I know you more than you know yourself. Now are you ready to listen to me?

What do you want from me? I text back anxiously.

What I want isn’t something you can just tell me over a text message, Y/N. Now, I need you to be prepared to go along as if nothing happened. You need to pretend you didn’t discover about Dick’s sexuality and infidelity. I need you to continue to be the loving and caring girlfriend, especially at the Wayne Family Barbecue. No one can know about tonight, and if you perform like a convincing Oscar award winning actress, then I’ll spare your life.

Why? Why are you doing this? What are you even planning?

That is not important information at this moment because it’s going to take a while before your knowledge of this plan is requested. I just need you to prove to Dick and his family that you love him with all your heart. Kiss him. Embrace him. Tell him you love him every three minutes. Why don’t you show everyone how you originally believed your relationship was in the beginning, Y/N?

I frown. My chest tightens. It’s as if this person knew everything that was going on in my head.

You clearly have a choice, Y/N: you either do as I say and nobody dies, or I’ll out him in my own way that will surely destroy Dick and the Batfamily’s lives. And let’s just say that the latter would be very public, and Dick would surely never be the same since he’s a…well you know…a perfectionist. He has a reputation he must keep up, and just imagine how everyone would react if any recorded evidence got out, including the one man who he calls Dad.

Okay, I’ll do it your way. I quickly text back. I hate myself even more now.

Even after you discovered he’s not who he says he is, how he rather be with a man than with you, and how he cheated on you, you’re honestly going to continue to stand by his side and protect him. That’s almost romantic, but he doesn’t love you anymore, Y/N.

I don’t care about me. Just please…don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt anyone. I respond desperately.

Oh, believe me, Y/N. My fun had just begun. Now, you need to put on a convincing show, because I’ll be watching.  

Whoever this person is, they’re clearly obsessed with putting an end to Dick’s life and reputation. I try to think of another way out of this, but I’m in too deep.

Just remember Y/N, if you plan on getting out of this, your new family will be gone before you know it. You’ll be all alone just like you fear, only when you are all alone, you’ll be dying on all their corpses. And I’ll personally make sure Dick’s skull is right beside your head.

And just like that, I’m thrown back into the Batfamily again.