#IT'S OPENING NIGHT FOR MY PLAYY

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober Day 11 - (alt prompt) Time Loop

title: you can't save them all.

fandom: 3rd life smp, life series

~

You can’t save them all.

It’s only his head telling him that, though, so Grian tells it to shove it.

All of them are here, and they don’t know how. That can’t be any good, can it?

They have three lives. That much is clear. Whenever they die, they go down a color. When they get to the final color—to Red—the bloodlust hits.

That . . . scares Grian, to be honest. He doesn’t know why it’s like that, and that’s what scares him.

He has admin.

It had been a shock, checking his communicator and seeing that his name was marked with the ‘A’. It doesn’t mean he knows anything. Not anything more than anyone else knows.

But he feels responsible, somehow. He’s the admin. It’s his job to make sure the server is safe, and he intends to do that, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going on.

Scar died first, then died again, and all Grian knows is that he can’t let him die a third time. There’s only three lives, he’s certain of that, but he has no clue what happens if any of them lose their third life, so he won’t let that happen.

They aren’t dying here. He’s going to save them.

You can’t save them all.

But then Jimmy dies.

Jimmy dies.

Jimmy dies, and Grian doesn’t save him.

You can’t save them all.

Scar finds him late the next night (it isn’t just Jimmy who’s died, Cleo died too, Skizz died too, they died and it was different), curled up in the demolished desert that had once been their lighthearted home.

“Hey, G,” Scar says softly, and Grian doesn’t look up.

He blew this up. He cards his hand through the sand, still warm from the baking sun, picks up a handful and lets it spill between his fingers.

Scar lays a hand on his shoulder, heavy and grounding.

“I didn’t save them,” Grian says, swallowing back the emotions (fear, anger, unquantifiable hatred for this situation), leaving his voice dry, not-quite solid. “I didn’t save them, Scar.”

“You saved me,” Scar offers, and it isn’t enough.

“I’m the admin. I’m—I’m supposed to save them.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Scar says.

Grian doesn’t call out the doubt in his voice.

He hasn’t expressed his feelings on this whole thing to anyone. Anyone but Scar, because Scar has the nasty talent of being able to wheedle anything out of anyone. As far as Grian’s aware, nobody knows how scared he is. Nobody knows that he thinks they might not go on living after this.

(They know. He saw the way Scott grieved. Bdubs’s horror. Ren’s howl of fury. That doesn’t happen on a normal world.)

(None of them know if they’ll ever see each other again.)

“I’m scared,” Grian admits.

Scar’s hand doesn’t leave his shoulder.

He could shut it down.

He could.

But . . . what if someone needs to win?

What if they only survive if someone wins?

It makes sense to shut it all down. It makes sense to destroy the world and send everyone home with his admin abilities.

He just . . . he can’t shake the sensation that if he does that, it’ll make everything worse. That Jimmy and Skizz and Cleo really will be lost forever, all because Grian hadn’t let the game continue to a winner.

“It’s okay,” Scar says eventually, and before Grian knows what’s happening, Scar settles down beside him in the shifting sand, wrapping his arm around Grian.

Grian sinks into Scar’s warmth, his bare side pressed up against Grian’s undershirt, and Grian rests his head against Scar’s shoulder and sighs.

“I’m here,” Scar promises, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm against Grian’s shoulder. “As long as you’re not going anywhere, I’m not going anywhere. You and me together, right?”

-

Grian doesn’t necessarily mean to win that one. But Scar—

Scar betrays him.

Scar promises to be there, to not go anywhere, and he betrays him—

And Grian wins.

And the world ends.

And a new one begins.

-

“Grian, dude?”

“Hm?” Grian doesn’t look up from where he’s darning the elbow of his sweater, tongue between his teeth.

“You’re admin, right?”

“Yep.”

“So . . . why don’t you send us home?”

See, Grian’s pretty sure the others don’t remember the world before this one. None of them had said anything when they spawned in a second world, with different-but-the-same rules, with new Players. None of them had taken up their previous alliances; enemies had even joined enemies and Grian had stared and wondered if they just weren’t talking about it, or if they genuinely had no memory of the first time.

He’d been asked Mumbo’s question, the first time. After Scar first died, and they realized they didn’t know what would happen after (not that anyone said that, specifically, though).

But Mumbo wasn’t here last time.

“It’s a game we don’t understand at all,” Grian explains. “We don’t know who’s running this, what kind of power they have. What if quitting isn’t the right play?”

He pulls his knitting needle through the elbow again, frowns when it snags. He hasn’t fixed up his clothes in a while—his sweater had been discarded fairly early on the first time, abandoned for the desert’s heavy heat, and his trousers had somehow escaped serious damage most of the game. Here, though, he tore a hole in the arm while swinging onto Scar’s horse (a loose thread had caught on the saddle) in the first couple days of this world, and now he’s faced with the consequences of his own actions.

“We don’t know anything. What if they track us back home?”

“Right, makes sense, I suppose. But—but if you got us out, could you put us in a, like, safe world? Just for long enough that we can contact someone who can help us.”

It’s too risky.

Grian has to save them.

You can’t save them all.

He failed the first time. He failed, and he paid, and he had to punch Scar’s battered body until his ribcage caved and blood spilled from his mouth as the man smiled, and Grian had to face that failure and know that it was a cruel twist of whatever put them here.

He had failed.

He didn’t think he’d be given a second chance, but he’s determined to do it right this time.

“I just can’t be sure,” says Grian. “I’m working to figure it out, really. But nobody can die, okay?”

“Hate to break it to you, mate, but you’ve already died.”

Grian sets down his sweater, looking up at Mumbo for the first time.

Mumbo’s abandoned his suit coat, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up, but his collar is buttoned and his tie tight. His slacks are held up by suspenders and his knees are reinforced by some leather pads buckled on, matching the thin gloves buttoned onto his hands. His hair is a little bit stringy, too long without a shower, but brushed, his mustache neat, though a little out of place against the stubble beginning to grow. Somebody has got to get the Southlands a semi-functional bathing set-up. And teach Mumbo how to shave without a safety razor.

His cheek has a smear of redstone across it—not out of place for Mumbo, but in this world, in these times—

Grian forces a smile, and Mumbo returns it, perhaps a little confused.

“A final death,” he says. “Nobody can die on Red, all right? I’m afraid of permadeath. Until then, I’ll keep working through options.”

“And if someone dies on Red. . . .”

“I’ll work through . . . other options.”

-

After all his trouble, it’s Grian who kills Jimmy.

He’s frantic in his defenses afterward, because Jimmy did attack him and definitely deserved it—even if the flash of fear in Jimmy’s eyes had almost made him reconsider—but that means that they’re right back where they were the first time and Grian can’t risk losing even one person.

If he tried to end the game now, send everyone home, would they ever get Jimmy back?

The first time, they all came back. They played the game through and everyone died but they all came back for round two, so if. . . .

Grian plunges his blood-soaked sword into Mumbo’s chest and hopes he knows what he’s doing.

-

“Nice ranch you’ve got here!”

“Best one in town,” Scott says, smirking a little. “Are you and Scar interested in coming by, still? I’ve already had several satisfied clients. They left good reviews and everything.”

“Eh, our relationship’s fine,” Grian waves him off. He hikes his backpack up a little further on his shoulders, fingering the strap. “I’ve actually got him doing some work around the house, for once. We’re all good.”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure BigB would beg to differ.”

Grian chokes. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you have some sort of, like, doctor-patient confidentiality policy?”

“I’m not board-approved, by any legal means,” laughs Scott. “Not like we can contact anyone outside, you know. No board to approve me.”

Grian looks away. If he really got his hands in the code, he probably could set up some sort of outside contact. He hadn’t thought it possible at first, but the longer he stares at the form of the world, the more he thinks he could manage something like that with only a bit more trouble than normal.

He doesn’t even try. The fact that it would take more trouble means that there is something that doesn’t want him to do it, and he isn’t trying to bring any sort of wrath down upon them. He turns a blind eye to that, and to any other roadblocks he finds to be less block-y than he originally thought.

There’s a game he’s supposed to play, he’s sure of it. They have to make it to the end with all of them alive. It seems impossible, but it can’t be. It’s just another roadblock that will soon be proved to be no more than a casual obstruction.

He’s going to keep them all alive. Starting with his soulmate, probably.

“I should get back,” he says finally. “Scar’s probably about to burn something down.”

He turns, starts the walk home, under the giant ‘R’ marking the entrance to the Relationship Ranch.

“You can’t keep running away, Grian,” Scott calls after him, and Grian freezes.

His heart goes still in his chest.

Scott doesn’t know anything. He can’t. None of them know. None of them are aware that this is the third time they’ve been through this. He’s happy to let them live under the delusion that this is the first and only game, that he’ll get it all sorted and they have nothing to worry about.

He hasn’t felt so alone in a while.

How could he not, surrounded by the very people he was trying to save, unable to explain a thing to them? Unable to tell them how helpless he feels, how he can’t seem to figure it out?

It’s easier to turn away from them. It’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t really care. Or that he cares about someone else.

He has to save them, and no one else knows it.

Scott doesn’t know it.

Grian doesn’t look back at him. He swallows, then says, voice falsely cheery, “You’re right. As hard as I try, Scar always manages to find me. Might as well find him first.”

A beat passes.

“Sure,” Scott says, voice utterly unreadable, before brightening. “Have fun! Let me know if you two need a session!”

Grian leaves, and he returns to his base, and he resolves to make it work this time.

You can’t save them all.

And he doesn’t.

Jimmy dies again, and everyone else follows.

-

In Grian’s defense, Jimmy’s been making annoying jokes all day, so it’s well-deserved when he laughs at Jimmy tripping.

His stomach swoops in the worst possible way, though, when Jimmy’s arms reach back up as he tips backward off the bridge, confusion and fear flooding his face as he falls off Bread Bridge.

Grian moves to help, but he’s too far away—Jimmy died first last time, just like the other times, it’s an established pattern in the loop and if Jimmy falls now he may lose enough time to go down to Red and that’ll put him firmly in the realm of first death which would mean Grian’s failed again—

But Joel grabs Jimmy by the arm of his jean jacket, heaving him back up onto the bridge, and Grian’s left to just take Jimmy by the collar and pull him toward their base, not sure what else to do with all this sudden adrenaline.

“Timmy, you can’t just fall like that—what on earth were you thinking, Martyn put all that blue glass down there—lucky we were there—”

“I’m just—” Jimmy pushes Grian off of him as they cross into the loaf of bread that Grian had built for his few possessions, one hand on the doorknob. “I’m fine. Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Well, obviously not, seeing as Jimmy managed to fill Grian with more dread than he’s felt all game in that one moment, and if he’d been thinking he wouldn’t have done anything like that.

“Leave off it,” Joel tells Grian, one hand resting on Jimmy’s shoulder. “You good?” he asks Jimmy, who shrugs.

“Got a bit dizzy.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, his face takes on some sort of protectiveness that Grian doesn’t see often, hasn’t seen since last game, with Etho and that stupid ship.

Did Grian miss something?

“Dizzy, sure. Did you sleep last night?”

Jimmy shrugs again, but he sways just slightly, and his eyes slide guiltily to the side.

“Right,” Joel declares. “If you didn’t sleep—”

“I slept!” protests Jimmy. “I did, promise! I’m just—”

“You didn’t sleep?” Grian butts in, feeling a little left out. “Tim, come on.”

Joel sends him some sort of—some odd look, almost . . . almost angry, or something. “Grian—”

“We’ve got to stay well-rested, and all that,” he continues, ignoring Joel. He’s in charge of the Bad Boys, after all. “You’re bringing down the team, Tim. I wouldn’t do that to you guys, would I?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, kind of, but nobody laughs. Nobody rolls their eyes, groans, or mocks Grian.

Jimmy glances at Joel. He looks more than exhausted, for that brief second—like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, not like he’d just missed a night of sleep.

Joel grimaces back at him, and squeezes his shoulder, and Jimmy just sighs.

“I’m gonna go . . . rest, I guess,” Jimmy mutters, turning back toward the door. “Take a nap. Sorry.”

He leaves, the door clanging shut behind him, and Joel watches him go before huffing loudly.

“Really?” Joel asks, turning on Grian with—with aggression, aggression that feels wildly out of place for some lighthearted teasing. His eyes have gone hard, totally empty of the protectiveness they’d held for Jimmy. “You can go on and on about resting and supporting the team and all that, but we all know you’re full of it.”

What?

Now he really feels like he’s missing something.

“Dude, I just told him to rest,” Grian says, dumbfounded.

“Rest won’t help, and you know that. It’s your fault he almost fell, anyway—good I was there—”

“My fault? I—he’s just tired, he said he was tired!”

It must be the wrong thing to say, because Joel blows up.

“Yeah, Jimmy’s tired!” spits Joel, face contorted with anger. “He’s tired, I’m tired, we’re all blummin’ tired, Grian! We don’t want to be here!”

Grian gapes at him, utterly lost. He thought they were talking about Jimmy not sleeping, not—whatever this was?

“I’m sick of waiting here, like somehow it’ll all work out if all of us kill each other over and over—yeah, we’re tired! And it’s all your fault!”

“I—how is it my fault?” Grian tries to reason, still not quite sure what Joel’s on about. “I’m just trying to make sure—”

“Don’t you feed me that bloody—” Joel glowers at him—if Grian didn’t know any better, he’d say that Joel hated him—and shifts forward slightly, as if he’s about to strike him, but after a moment’s indecision he turns on his heel and strides back out the door, slamming it shut behind him with such force that the whole structure shakes.

Grian hears his heavy footsteps get further away, then the slamming of another door, before he’s left in silence.

“. . . What?” Grian says, a full minute after Joel’s stormed out, staring at where he had been.

What was that about?

It sounded like—well, it couldn’t be, but it sounded like Joel was referring to . . . everything. The loop, so to speak. Which is impossible, because, well. . . .

Nobody else is aware of the loop. Grian’s certain at this point that he’s the only one aware, because nobody else has ever brought it up or referenced one of the past games, and he’s been met with stares when he suggests old alliances reform (like the way Etho had raised an eyebrow this game when Grian suggested he team with Joel, or the way Martyn had dismissed Ren with a totally blank face in the second game, or Jimmy and Scott’s light rivalry last time with no recognition for their once-bond), and everyone seems to be focused on winning more than any real problem-solving.

So there’s no way that Joel was referencing the loop. He doesn’t know about it. None of them know that this is the fourth time that Grian’s gone through this, and no matter how tired they are, he’s got to be more so.

Right?

Right. Of course he’s right.

And he’ll figure it out. He really will! He can’t be too far off, really. He hasn’t even looked at the code of this world, yet, but he already knows this song and dance. He’s so certain that if he can get everyone to survive, they’ll have passed whatever cosmic test they’ve been set to.

He just needs to find a way to stop people from dying, and he’ll be set. Which, of course, starts with Jimmy, because Jimmy’s died first in the past three worlds and he’ll die first here, too.

Unless Grian can prevent it.

And Grian plans on preventing it.

You can’t save them all, whispers that voice in the back of his mind, and it sounds almost like Joel.

And when Jimmy dies first, he doesn’t.

-

It’s the fifth time through, and Jimmy doesn’t die first.

It—

That can’t be possible.

In fact, it’s Lizzie who dies first (and he’d been so relieved to see her in this game, knowing that he lost her before), followed by Mumbo (Grian had actually cried to see him on the playerlist, another that had been gone, lost to who knows what, suddenly returned without question or complaint), and then Jimmy.

Grian thinks he might tear his hair out, because Jimmy—Jimmy was the connecting thread, Jimmy dying first was one of the few patterns that he’d discovered, and losing this pattern is dashing all of his hypotheses to nothing.

Jimmy’s dead, but not first, and Grian isn’t going to save them this time around.

-

Grian peers over the edge of their makeshift fort in the sky, down toward the ground—though in the darkness, he can’t see anything more than vague shapes.

Cleo sighs from somewhere near. Grian likes having allies—Cleo’s here, slumped against the wall as she yawns and waits, and Etho’s beside her, sorting through his potions and arrows to make sure he’s ready for the upcoming battle.

They should both be sleeping, really. Grian can take first watch and switch off after a few hours, and then they’ll all be better-rested in the morning.

He can see, though, off past Etho, that lights still burn up on the hill at Gem’s place. . . .

The fight might come before sunrise.

“Have you tried just . . . banning one of us from the server?” Cleo asks sleepily, pulling their cloak up a bit higher on their shoulders.

Etho clicks his tongue. “C’mon, Cleo. He’s tried everything, otherwise we wouldn’t still be here.”

“What?” Grian asks, not realizing, at first, that Cleo was addressing him.

Cleo waves vaguely. “You know. Banning one of us. Get us out of this hell.”

Grian swallows, looks away.

Has he tried banning someone?

He doesn’t think so. For a lot of things, he’s checked the code to see if it would be possible theoretically instead of just going for it, but he doesn’t remember looking at the ban command at all.

“Well, I can’t do it right now,” he reasons. “Some of us are already dead, you know? I don’t want to leave them cut off.”

“I’d prefer it to this, I think,” Cleo mutters, and Etho nudges her with his foot.

“It’s not too bad,” Etho says fairly. “But I do want to get out, Grian. Need any help on that front?”

Grian shrugs. “I’ve looked at everything,” he says (lies, he lies, he never even opened the code on this world, he barely touched it on the last one). “I feel like I’ve hit a bit of a dead end, you know?”

“Maybe a fresh eye would help.”

“Maybe later.”

There won’t be a later. Etho won’t remember this conversation.

Grian makes the mistake of looking up to meet Etho’s eyes, then can’t tear his gaze away as they lock, stuck in place.

Etho frowns.

“Okay,” he says, tone far too light. “Soon, then.”

Grian finally looks away, toward Cleo, who rolls their eyes.

“I’m just tired of seeing your face,” she gripes. “Next time, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to, yet.”

“We’re on Red,” Grian waves off. “There won’t be a next time.”

“I mean, next-next time,” Cleo says casually. “Whatever the next gimmick will be. Then I’ll kill you.”

Grian’s stomach goes cold.

What?

No.

No, that can’t—that isn’t—

“What—Cleo, what are you talking about?” Grian asks, forcing his voice not to tremble.

Cleo and Etho exchange a look (and Grian is reminded of last time, of Joel and Jimmy grimacing at each other).

“Do you—Grian, do you not remember?” Cleo asks.

“No, of course he remembers.”

“Right, but what if he doesn’t? It makes sense, doesn’t it? Of course he’s not figured it out yet if he can’t remember.”

“What don’t I remember?” demands Grian.

There’s no way they’re talking about this being the fifth time, there’s no way. He’s the only one who remembers it, he’s the only one tracking the patterns, it just isn’t possible.

There’s no way.

There’s really no way.

Cleo opens their mouth, but before they can say anything, an arrow whizzes over their head. She ducks, already grabbing her bow, and Etho leaps up, peers over the edge.

“I didn’t think they could reach,” Grian says, dropping the discussion of the moment prior for the matter at hand. “Can you see them? Who is it?”

Cleo shoots him one last look that Grian doesn’t attempt to understand.

They don’t remember. If they remember, it means that everyone remembers, and everyone has remembered this whole time. That means they’ve been playing along, waiting for him to get them out, looping with him.

No.

No, no no no no no.

He won’t—he can’t believe that. He has to save them, he has to get them out of here, and that can’t happen if they know how he keeps failing. He can’t fail them all!

They don’t remember. He decides that, he ignores every little moment that hasn’t added up—Mumbo’s confusion, Scott’s ominous words, Joel’s anger, and this—and he fights, because next time he’ll save them, next time he’ll win this stupid game, and none of them will ever know how long it was.

He’ll save them.

You can’t save them all.

-

Respawn?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Will you fail?

Yes.

You can’t save them all.

[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Four

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

Lestappen X Reader

Series Masterlist

"You're okay, Beastie. You did good."

It hadn't been an easy race for either Ferrari driver. You and Charles had both struggled, through no fault of your own, during the race. The strategy was shit and the car struggled on track.

"You're okay, Beastie," your handler said, combing her fingers through your hair. "You can stop now. You can breathe."

She was trying to calm you down, Charles realised as he watched you.

Beastie. What an awful nickname, simply awful. Charles watched as your handler handed you earbuds. Your hands shook as you placed them into your ears, a whimper leaving your lips.

Beastie. You weren't a beast. Charles could see it, and he was sure that everybody else could see it, too. You weren't a beast; you just wanted to be free.

He strode across the garage, strode over to you. "What're you listening to?" He asked, his voice soft.

A whimper left your lips and you clawed at your shock collar. "Woah, woah," he whispered and grabbed a hold of your hands, stopping you from hurting yourself. "You're okay, Birdy."

Birdy. Charles wasn't very sure where it came from, but it felt right. It suited you. Birdy. You just wanted to be free. Free as a bird. Another noise left your lips, one that Charles was unable to place. "Wanna tell me what you're listening to?" He asked and pushed your hair out of your face.

You wouldn't answer. Charles knew this, he wasn't expect you to open your mouth to answer, but to somehow communicate it to him. Maybe pull your earbud from your ear and offer it too him instead.

Your handler stepped forward. "She discovered your music last night," she said and nodded to Charles. "She finds it's calming, so I thought it might help take her out of 'Race Space'."

"Race Space?"

Race Space. The headspace you went into as soon as you were in the car. It left you acting on instinct, going for every gap and having no self preservation. It would have been terrifying to watch, if you had anybody that cared about you."

"She likes my music?" Charles couldn't stop himself from answering as he looked at you. You liked his music. At that very moment, you were listening to his music. "Birdy," he whispered, unable to stop himself from grinning.

Charles couldn't help but think about it for the next few hours. As he flew back to Monaco, sharing a jet with Pierre. Maybe one day you could share a jet with them, too. But you weren't in the position for a private jet yet. Once you were a proper driver, no longer driving in the place of an injured Carlos, Charles would take you everywhere in his private yet, he decided.

And then you'd be flying. As free as a bird.

"You're attached," Max said as he watched Charles.

Sitting at the piano, Charles couldn't stop himself from thinking about you. He pressed a couple of the keys, no song really coming from it. "I am," he confirmed, giving a small nod. "I really am, Max."

Max released a sigh as he walked over. He slipped onto the bench beside Charles and wrapped his arms around him. "What're we gonna do about it?" He asked.

"I don't know, Max," Charles answered through a sigh. "I really don't know."

***

Home. A small room with several locks on the door to keep people safe from you. Locked in, Charles's music playing on a loop. This was better, you knew. You locked away from the rest of the world.

Birdy.

You had been a beast for so long that Birdy felt weird. Weird, but not exactly wrong. Birdy, because you wanted to fly away and be free. Birdy was fitting, you realised.

Birdy.

You liked it. Really liked it. Far better than Beasty. A beast was what you had been turned into, not what you wanted to be. You were never supposed to be a beast and you no longer wanted to be one.

Birdy.

The music stopped and you released a whimper. Tapping at the iPod screen, you got the music playing again, the piano filling the room. Your eyes closed as you laid back on your bed, holding your pillow against your chest.

Charles was nice. He was real nice, in a way nobody but your handler had been before. Why had you tried to bite him? Why had you acted out like that? But, still, he was sweet to you. Sweet, even after you had attempted to attack him.

You wouldn't, not again. You wouldn't attack the next time he was nice to you. It was easy to picture it in your mind, your muzzle removed as you hugged Charles, nuzzling yourself against his chest. But you were looking at it through rose coloured glasses.

It wouldn't be as simple as not attacking and you knew that. The reaction was involuntary: You couldn't help it. Couldn't stop yourself from lashing out and trying to hurt him.

"Birdy," you whispered to yourself and started his music again. "Birdy. Birdy. Birdy."

You couldn't wait for the next race weekend.

You didn't have to wait long, just a week. That week you spent training, in the gym, listening to your trainer like an obedient dog. When she said run, you ran. When she said lift, you lifted.

There was just one reason why you didn't like the gym. It allowed you to let out your aggression in a way that stopped anybody from getting hurt. But the collar around your neck and the muzzle attached to your face made the gym uncomfortable, skin beneath them prickling.

On the Tuesday, you flew to Miami. You were sedated for the entirety of the flight. It didn't take away your fear, just stopped you from acting on it.

You woke up in the taxi on your way to the hotel. How disorienting it was, to suddenly regain conscious in a different part of the world, so similar to your home, yet somehow different.

You panicked. Not enough to hurt anybody in the car with you. But your nails dug into your palms, pressing deep enough to draw blood.

"Enough of that, Beasty," your handler commented and patted your knee. Maybe she was trying to give you comfort. Whatever it was, it didn't help.

She got you into the hotel, her grip on your sleeve acting as a leash. As soon as she had your key (she always kept your room key. It was almost a threat: If you left you couldn't get back in), she led you to the stairs.

No lifts, you were too feral for that. They were too much like cages, and you didn't do cages.

“Rest, little Beast,” she said as you placed your bags in your room. Rest. You've done enough resting already. You didn't need anymore rest. “I'll come get you in the morning.”

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@amalialeclerc

@topnerd03

@hahahjej

@boo8008

@mbioooo0000

@the-long-gone-souls

@kodeelynn

[aurasy3ag3r]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐜.𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

☆ summary : Connie moves in next door to Yn and sparks fly. Despite their differences, they bond over their shared interest and dreams, as they spend more and more time together they become more than 'just neighbors'

☆ parings : chef connie x blackfem reader.

☆ wc : 800

A few weeks had gone by since you met Connie, and there wasn’t much communication—just a quick wave here and there, but nothing like the first night you met. Tonight, you could hear Connie hosting a “get-together” with his friends. You tried not to eavesdrop, but they were loud, and the walls were thin, so you couldn’t help it.

“Man, if you don’t invite her over, I’m gonna go over there and do it myself.” You were confused. Not wanting to assume they were talking about you, you moved your head closer to the wall. You couldn't hear much and ultimately decided what you were doing was weird, so you stopped.

‘Knock Knock’

“Huh.”

You were confused by the knock at your door. Maybe it was about you? When you opened the door, there stood two guys. One was tall like Connie, with brown hair in a cute little man bun and intense green eyes that you tried not to stare at. The other guy was a few inches taller than you, pale, and blonde. “Hi, we’re friends of Connie, and he’s being a wuss about inviting you over for some wine.” Your eyes widened at what the blonde boy said. What you heard was definitely about you. “He has some high-quality wine.” The taller guy smiled and pointed at Connie, who was at his door holding a bottle of wine, waiting for you to accept their invitation.

“I love wine.” “Perfect, come with us.” You giggled at the taller guy and followed them, closing your door behind you. You had on a long cardigan and a lounge dress underneath, while everyone else looked dressed up. When you walked into the apartment, it felt like a whole other building. Your apartment was full of art, while Connie’s lacked it. Seeing his apartment, you thought of all the places where your art could fit. “Hi, neighbor, sorry about those two.” You smiled, and Connie handed you a glass of wine. It was delicious—sweet but not too sweet, just the way you liked your wine. “Connie, are you gonna introduce us?” You looked over at the few people on Connie’s couch and waved.

“Obviously, this is my neighbor, Yn. And Yn, these are my friends. You met Eren and Armin; that’s Sasha and Mikasa; and Jean is the one on the floor.” You nervously waved at everyone, and they waved back. “Come over here; I’m gonna pour you a glass of wine.” You walked over to Connie’s counter, away from his friends. “I was told you have some good wine.” Connie chuckled as he poured a glass of red wine. He slid over the glass, and you almost immediately took a small sip. Eren did not lie; his wine was amazing.

“I’ve been meaning to go over and cook for you.” Your eyes widened, and you took another sip of the wine. “Well, I’ve been waiting to try some of your food. Why haven’t you come over?” You placed the glass down and waited for Connie to answer. “To be honest, I was nervous.” “Nervous? I don’t bite.” Connie playfully rolled his eyes, and you giggled at his reaction. “A pretty girl like you makes me nervous.” Connie made his way closer to where you stood. “Well, we can have a celebratory dinner on Saturday if you’d like.” Connie smiled and nodded. “What are we celebrating?”

“Well, I’m hosting an art show on Friday. It’s not my first, but it’s my biggest art show yet.” Connie paid attention to how excited you got talking about your art show. “And I would love to invite you and your friends if you want to go. It’s downtown, nothing too fancy.” “I would love to go; I bet they would too. Right, guys?” Connie looked over at his friends, and they all looked confused. “Sorry, we can’t hear you over Sasha and Jean arguing.” “Yn is hosting an art show on Friday, and she invited us.”

The rest of the night went smoothly. You got to know his friends better and spent the rest of the night playing games and drinking more wine. Apparently, too much wine, because now you were alone with Connie, dying of laughter watching Spongebob.

“Fuck, it’s getting late; I should head home now.” Connie frowned but helped you get up from the floor. “We could also just have a sleepover.” You giggled at Connie, and he smiled. “Maybe another day.” Connie held the door open for you and followed you until you arrived at your door. “I had a really good time tonight. Your friends were really cool too.” “I’m glad you had a good time. Hope we can do it again, without my crazy friends.” You giggled and softly slapped Connie’s shoulder. “They were great. I’ll make sure to send you six tickets for Friday.” Connie smiled. He was looking forward to buying some of your art.

“Well, goodnight, pretty lady.” You blew Connie a kiss as he walked backwards to his apartment like a dummy.

hope yall enjoyed ... AND I KNOWWWWW its been a while yall im sorryyyyyyyyyyyy please accept my apology with this :)))

I will be posting some sports fics soon (;;;

[endless-summer-soldier]

rub down

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: after returning home from a tough mission, all you want is to relax and Bucky makes that so easy for you

warnings: 18+ only, smut, heavy foreplay, oral sex

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is an old draft that I never finished and finally found the time to close it out. not my best writing and little to no plot, but it scratches a certain itch ;)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @theroyalmanatee @ozwriterchick @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @almosttoopizza @esposadomd @charmedbysarge @zannemes @blackwood-bodecker-housewife

The minute you stepped into your room, you fell into bed. You mustered up all your remaining energy to strip off your sweat-soaked suit. Before your eyes completely glazed over, you took one final glance at your phone. 4:27 AM. You knew he wouldn’t be awake, but you sent him a quick text: home.

“Rise and shine, gorgeous,” Bucky called, in an effort to wake you up. He was peppering kisses up your neck to your jaw and cheek. 

“Mmm...morning,” you whispered, melting into Bucky’s arms. “I missed you,” you added.

“I missed you too, baby,” he replied, planting another kiss on your cheek. “How was the mission?”

You turned in his arms so that you were facing him. You forgot how it felt to be under his sparkling gaze. 

“It went well. We ambushed them pretty good, but we were outnumbered so it took a little longer to take the place down.”

“How do you feel?”

“Good. A couple nicks and bruises, but nothing major. I’m just...exhausted.”

“I bet. I saw what time you got in last night. Sorry I couldn’t stay up for ya.”

“Oh it's fine. I didn’t expect you to.”

“So, what should we do today?”

“Mm...I just want to relax. Can we do nothing today?”

“I'd love to do nothing with you,” he gushed. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m gonna go for a run but how about you come over once you’re done with breakfast," he offered.

“And we can relax?” you asked.

“Absolutely.” He kissed your forehead and rolled out of bed as you curled back up into the sheets.

You snoozed for another hour or so before slowly making your way out of bed. You took a long, hot shower and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. 

Once in the kitchen, you fixed yourself some breakfast and a cup of coffee. You sat on the balcony as you ate, paging through your latest novel and slowly sipping from your large mug of coffee. It was nice not having to think about anything. That was one of your favorite parts of coming home after a mission, along with sleeping in your own bed with Bucky. You finished up the chapter you were on and retired inside. You figured Bucky would be back from his run and you wanted to spend the rest of the day with him.

You knocked twice on his door and he quickly responded with, “Come on in, darling.”

The lighting was dim and there were several candles lit around the room.

“What’s all this?” you inquired with a tone of surprise.

“Just wanted to do something special for you,” he said, pressing a kiss on your cheek. It was then you noticed the massage table set up in the middle of the room. 

“You didn’t have to do all this. I would’ve been perfectly happy just snuggling and watching Netflix.”

“I know you would’ve. And that’s why you deserve this.”

“Thank you,” you placed a gentle hand on his jaw and stood on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. 

“Now make yourself comfortable, I’ll come back in about ten minutes.”

You stripped down completely, placing your clothes together in a tiny pile. You tied your hair into a top knot and crawled onto the massage table, placing your head face down in the headrest and pulling the sheet over your bare back. You closed your eyes and took a few deep inhalations to start relaxing your mind. The door opened and then shut quietly, as gentle footsteps neared you. Suddenly the sound of water flowing downstream was softly playing in the background.

“How’s the temperature?” Bucky asked, referring to the heated massage table.

“Perfect.” You noticed the faintest scent of peppermint as you heard the sound of strong, oiled hands rubbing together.

You could sense Bucky standing by your head. “Now I want you to clear your mind and just relax. Take a deep breath in,” he instructed. You followed his command and as you exhaled, his slick hands made contact with your back. He firmly pressed his hands down your shoulders to your tailbone and repeated the motion. You unconsciously released a sigh, enjoying the pressure and the dichotomy between his warm, flesh hand and his cold, vibranium one. He continued his motion, up and down your back, digging the heels of his hands in a little more with each stroke.

“You’re so tense, baby.” He was right of course. You’d been running on the minimum amount of sleep and thought of nothing but your mission for the past few weeks. Tense didn’t even begin to cover it. 

“We’ll work out all these knots. Don’t you worry.” Bucky shifted his attention to the tension in your shoulder blades. You weren’t sure where he learned this technique but he had mastered it. He would start with his right hand, lightly rubbing and warming up the affected area. Then he would increase the pressure with his metal fingers to break up the knots. You expected it to be painful, but it wasn’t. His touch was magic; it melted all your stress away. 

“If you ever want to retire from the Avengers, you’d make an incredible masseuse,” you commented.

He chuckled, “I don’t know about that. I’m only interested in having one client. These hands are all yours.”

“Mmm…” was all you could muster in return. He completed a few more circuits up and down your back and all your knots had disappeared. Bucky laid a hot, damp towel over your back and pressed down a few times.

Just when you thought he was finished, he pulled up the sheet to expose your right leg. He applied more oil and slid his slick hands from your ankle up to your hamstring. He moved back down and focused his attention on your foot. He dug his thumbs into your arches and you couldn’t help but let out a little squeal.

“That tickle?” he smiled.

“Just a little,” you said, holding back your laughter the best you could. Bucky finished on your foot and moved to your calf. Your legs were sore from near constant activity the past few weeks and his magic fingers carefully soothed all your soreness. He continued up your leg to massage your hamstring and repeated the process on your left leg. When he finished, he removed the towel from your back and lifted the sheet up towards your shoulders.

“Flip over for me.”

You followed his direction and he tucked the sheet under your arms, covering your chest. He placed a pillow under your knees and moved back down to your feet, focusing his attention on your quads. You should have realized your arousal sooner. But it wasn’t until Bucky ran his vibranium hand up your leg, stopping just short of your box that you realized you were getting wet. He continued the motion, massaging your quads and gently caressing your inner thighs. You kept waiting for him to progress, to touch you where you so badly wanted to be touched. But he didn’t. You considered grabbing his hand and directing it to your folds, but before you could make a move he shifted his position and was standing near your torso. He took your right arm in his hands and started massaging your forearm and then your bicep. He took your hand and massaged your palm and fingers with his vibranium hand. He moved to the other side of the table and did the same with your left arm. 

When he finished, he carefully placed your arm down at your side and stood at your head. He took your messy bun in his hands and said, “Can I take this out?” You nodded at him and he carefully pulled out your scrunchie, careful not to pull any of your hair. He immersed his fingertips in your hair, lightly scratching your scalp in a circular motion. It felt amazing and you let out a sigh without realizing. He moved his fingers down to the base of your skull and rubbed to alleviate some of the tension.  

Then he moved his skilled fingers to your neck, rubbing small circles down to your shoulders. He ran his hands under your shoulder blades and slowly clawed them out from underneath you. Then his big hands ran down your collarbone toward your chest. He massaged your pecs and slowly moved toward your breasts. You could tell your nipples were getting hard in anticipation and all you wanted was to feel relief. His hands circled your breasts and just when you thought he was going to give in, he pulled away. You let out a deep exhale, wondering how much longer he was going to tease you like this.

He had to know the effect he was having on you. It had to have been intentional. Was he going to make you beg? Did he want you to ask for him? He moved back down toward your feet and pulled the sheet up around your hip. He once again worked his way up your leg, carefully massaging your upper thigh. You almost lost it when his vibranium fingers brushed against your labia. You let out a sharp exhale and said, “Bucky…”

“Oh you like that?” he purrs. “You’ve been so patient for me.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.

“You want me to keep going?” he asked. All you could do was nod your head. He ran his fingers up and down your entrance before paying special attention to your clit. You inhaled sharply and laid back on the bed as he continued his handy work. You were in a fog of relaxation and pleasure as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your entrance. His bionic fingers knew exactly what they were doing and found your G-spot effortlessly, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm. 

But before you could finish, he withdrew his hand and replaced it with his mouth. He devoured your cunt, lapping up your moisture and regularly swirling his tongue around your clit. By now, your left arm was hooked behind your head and your back was arching, unable to handle any further sensation.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” he whispered, and you immediately unfolded on the table. An unconscious moan left your lips and Bucky re-inserted his fingers into you while continuing to massage your clit with his tongue.

“Oh Buck,” you sighed, coming down from your natural high. Bucky finished up his task and greedily licked his lips, savoring every last drop he could. He collected a damp towel and carefully cleaned you up, treating you like the VIP you were. Once he tossed the used towel aside, you waved him toward you. When he reached your head, you sat up and outstretched an arm toward his face. 

You placed a hand on his jaw and said, “That was incredible. Thank you.” You pulled him close and shared your gratitude with your lips. 

He merely gave you a smile back and said, “Oh it's not over yet.” You cocked your head at him, awaiting further explanation, when he said, “I’m running us a bubble bath.”

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 49-No Escape From Now

Summary: Josie spends a long stormy night with Dave. The boy who cried wolf puts him in the dog house. A sweet smelling apology is made. CHEERS! The thunder rolls and Josie has had enough. The boy cries bloody wolf again. The new sunny side up morning brings many surprises. The early bird catches more than the worm. Someone's anger gets the best of them. You have the right to remain silent. A shocking reveal comes to light as Lee remembers.

*Chapter Warnings* DARK, language, angst, alcohol use, mentions of murder, graphic gif depictions, self pleasure, smut, mild violence, arrest,

Chapter characters: Josie, David, Luke, Lee

Chapter word count: 5,317

Grandview, MA

March 21, 2022

You were stiff as a board on the long and treacherous drive back to Dave's as the relentless rain had mutated into an angry wind storm full of tumultuous thunder and livid lightning along the way. He tried to hold your hand to calm your anxiety but you insisted he keep both of his hands on the wheel. Finally, after 30 torturous minutes of having to pee, Dave pulled into the driveway of his humble little abode in Grandview that was perfect for a bachelor like him and a perfect getaway for you, but deep down you knew that there was no escape from now.

"You ready??" Dave asked with his hand on the door handle. "1...2.......3!"

Bolting out of the truck, you squealed as you ran into the dry safe haven of the foyer with Dave chuckling behind you.

"You don't lock your doors?" you panted as you dripped all over the floor.

"Guess I forgot in my rush to chase a 5 year old ghost." he jested and helped you out of your wet jacket. "I'll go check the house if it will make you feel better."

"Yeah well...duhh!" you riposted and stood in place while you watched Dave run up the creaky wooden stairs, skipping every other step with his long strides.

After hearing his footsteps and door after door close to the 3 bedrooms, bathroom and closets...all went quiet.

"Dave??" you meeped as you leaned without stepping out of place to peek up the L shaped staircase.

There was still no answer and then.....

"AHHH!!!!" Dave bellowed, sending you sprinting backwards against the front door.

Frozen solid and panting heavily, you managed to stutter out his name. "D...David!?"

You gasped and damn near relieved your full bladder as Dave's hand slapped over the doorway's frame and then his face slowly appeared with a wicked grin.

"You....ASSHOLE!!!"

You stomped off through the kitchen and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut as hard as you could.

"Josie." Dave snickered as he tapped on the door. "I'm sorry. I was just playi..."

"If I didn't have to pee so damn bad, I would have gotten a frying pan and knocked you into next week!... Arrrrgh!"

"Jo, really. I'm sorr...."

The toilet flushed and the door instantly swung open with you standing there, you lips pursed and your narrowed eyes fuming.

"Damn you're so cute when you're mad."

"Asshat." you snarled and shoved past him to the kitchen where you angrily pulled out 2 margarita glasses with the cactus stems and stared him down. "Well??? It's midnight, margarita man and they better be extra strong."

"Yes dear." he snarked as he now stood before you, peering down at you with an arched brow.

"What?"

"The blender. It's behind you."

"Oh..."

You stepped aside with a huff and went to sit on a stool at the table bar that extended off of the gas stove island in the center of the small but homey kitchen and watched him collect the items to concoct his merciless margaritas. The same ones he made at Jason's funeral reception that, by the end of the night, had Orlando carrying you up to your bed.

"Damn it." Dave snapped as he rooted through the fridge.

"What now?"

"I don't have any oranges or limes."

"Soooo, use that Rosie's lime juice and surely you must have some OJ??"

Dave gasped. "Sacrilege! Fresh squeezed is the only way to go to create my magicritas."

"Alright Mr. perfectionist. Wine will have to do."

"Nope. I promised midnight margaritas and that is what I will make you. Just give me 15 minutes."

Dave began putting his coat back on with a rain jacket over top and grabbed his keys.

"Wait, what are you doing????"

"Running down to the 24/7 on the corner."

"In this storm?? At midnight???"

"Citrus Jo. Need citrus. It's right around the corner. You know that. I'll be back in a jiffy."

Before you could further protest, Dave was out the door and driving off in his truck.

You locked the door behind him and went back to the kitchen to at least grab a beer and some snacks while you waited. Upon opening the fridge, there in plain sight sat a bag of oranges and limes.

"What the???" you whispered as you yanked them out of the fridge. "What the hell are you up to my bff?"

You popped open the strangely named beer that you were not even going to attempt to pronounce and sat back down, sipping on it with a sour expression, for to simply put it, it tasted like shit and as you waited in your parched boredom, your thoughts began to roam about Dave's gift that Lee also possessed.

Dave had first opened up to you about his ability to see and speak to the dead shortly after a trauma he had suffered which you had helped him through. Although he had seen things as a child, the older he got, the less the occurrences became until they eventually ceased altogether but his mediumship strangely returned after witnessing his biological father, Victor Cassadine, murder the man he had known as his father for most of his life, Duke Lavery. It had all went down at a yearly Metro Court event, the Nurses Ball, that you attended with Dave and Britt. Later that evening, you found Dave on the pier, holding Duke who died in his arms from a bullet wound to the chest and Victor was never implicated because, before you showed up, he coerced Dave to lie by threatening the people he loved.

The rich and powerful Cassadine clan weren't connected to the mob but were highly infamous nonetheless with their Russian royalty bloodlines, pretty much like Gerry's Greek tycoon father, Victor Kiriakis and in your opinion, they both put the mafia to shame with their capabilities and lack of morals, which is why Dave's relationship with his father was a bit rocky, unlike Gerry's with his dad and that always baffled you since he was a law abiding citizen with a badge. None of it made sense with Dave either, for he still adored his troublesome mother who had many ties to that world, one being of Cesar Faison, Britt's terrorist father. Organized crime or not, it was all the same to you and you had become sucked into all of it beginning with one person. Jason.

Now your thoughts went to Lee. He had certainly suffered a great trauma. The accident with Jacob and his death. Could that be a relevant reason as to why Lee could see his son? He had also seen his mother and father at one point. But why was it happening now and not then? Or could this all be related to something that happened long ago and has something to do with what Lee has been harboring? Maybe you should just go and force it out of Luke but, would that further damage things between you and Lee? Or maybe...too much damage had already been done and you should just let it all go. Lee included.

You heard the slamming of Dave's truck door and ran to greet him because now you felt bad for jumping down his throat, although he deserved it.

The front door opened before you could open it and in walked a damp but still dashing Dave who whipped the hood of his raincoat off and quickly handed you a dozen red roses that he was concealing behind his back.

"For you." he softly said with a sweet smile. "I'm really sorry."

"These are some odd looking fruit. You went out in this mess just to buy me an apology?"

"Actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah well now you owe me one for lying about the reason you went." you quipped and you inhaled the heavenly floral aroma, then headed to the kitchen in search for a vase.

Dave followed you as he removed his coat and shoes, then he saw the oranges and limes on the counter.

"Busssted....but if I would have told you why I was going, it just wouldn't have been as meaningful as a surprise."

You approached him and pushed his saturated strands from his baby blues. "Alright. You're forgiven, now get busy. You're late."

Dave glanced at the clock that now said 12:15. "On it! Why don't you go pick out that movie."

"K...but I've had enough horror for the night. How about a fantasy? We still need to watch Snow White, A Tale of Terror."

"And that's not horror??" Dave asked as he kicked the blender on.

"It's more witchy than slasher."

"You've only seen it a thousand times. You just like go on about Gutenberg, swearing that he is me. And let us not forget that his first name is Peter."

"Never mind that. They say everyone has a twin and he is yours."

Dave came in with the drinks, sat them down and got a fire going.

"I do not look like him and I hate his clothes, plus he has red hair Jo. The only one that looks good around here with fiery tresses is you."

"Hmmm I don't know. Gutenberg is pretty hot." you giggled as you took a huge gulp of your liquid gold.

"Right. That must be why Lilli wanted to be with Will instead. Wait, did you just call me hot?"

"Nope. You don't look like him remember??"

"Alright, the movie is going in Princess. Zip your lip unless it's to drink."

You grinned and cuddled up beside him on the couch. After halfway through the movie and 3 drinks in, you couldn't hold your tipsy tongue anymore.

"See!!! LOOK. It's YOU!! Baby blues and all!!"

"Ok. You're cut off." he chuckled. "It's almost 2 am Josie. Let me put the fire out and help you up to the guest room."

"I can walk Davey!"

"Josie, even when sober, you couldn't walk from here to the front door without tripping over nothing."

"Hardy har har. Fine. I have so much shit to do tomorrow anyways but right now, all I want to do is sleep off this twisted tequila."

Dave took care of the fireplace as you sucked out every last drop from your glass, then his and when you stood up, the booze caught up with you. Down you went, laughing like a hyena.

"You see?? Come on. It's piggy back time."

Dave crouched over in front of you and you clumsily climbed on, burying your nose into his rain scented hair, then up the stairs he carried you and let you slide down onto the bed.

"Goodnight Jo Jo."

You took his hand and wouldn't let him go as he turned to leave.

"Thank you for the roses and the midnight madness. You know I love you right?"

Dave's smile held a subtle sadness. "Just not in the way Lilli loves Will."

"Dave I..."

"Shhh. Go to sleep. I'm right next door if you need me. Night Jo."

He kissed your head and left, shutting the door behind him and you laid there for a moment, gazing at the spinning ceiling.

"Not in the way I love you Lee." you whispered and then your eyes closed.

3 hours later, they popped wide open when a bellowing boom of thunder shook your bed. Gasping as you realized where you were, you ran straight into Dave's room in a panting panic, startling him awake from his deep slumber. You never understood how anyone could sleep through such a ruckus.

"Josie? Hey, it's ok. Come here."

"No. No Dave. I...I need to go home."

"What? Jo, it's 5:30 am. Wait till sunrise and I'll make you some breakfast, then I'll take you. Come lay down with me. I won't bite....hard." he joked as he bobbed his brows up and down.

You knew he was just trying to help you relax but you couldn't do it. You had already felt guilty about sleeping in Orlando's bed the night, even if it was solely to keep an eye on his breathing after Luke had almost choked the life out of him. You had been honest with Lee and he understood, but you didn't think he would about it being over a storm.

"Dave, no. I really shouldn't."

He sighed and seemed a bit peeved. "We've been best friends for how long now and I have never tried anything on you now have I? I wouldn't do that. I don't see the problem with trying to comfort you when you're scared."

"Dave I know that. That's not the problem. It's...Lee."

"How did I already know that?" he bemoaned.

"Dave, I..."

"Josie, it's fine. I'll get up and take you."

"Well...could we still eat breakfast first? I'm really hungry."

"Sure. Let me go grab a shower. I'll see you downstairs in a bit." he uttered and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

You ran to the doorway. "Dave, you shouldn't take a shower in a stor..."

"I'll be fine Josie." he interrupted with a sigh full of sarcasm and shut bathroom the door without even looking back at you.

Dave turned the water and undressed, then climbed in when it was cold enough to wake him up and put other parts of him to sleep. he leaned on the wall and doused his head under the cool stream as he stared down at his uncooperative morning wood, so he decided to quickly satisfy it's needs.

After lathering up his hand with some soap, he swiftly brought his throbbing member to a hip shattering release in merely 20 vigorous strokes just to get it over with, for he felt guilty that he thought of you while doing so and he blamed it on the dream he was having just before you woke him up. One where you desired him in ways he could have never imagined.

As he panted through the last pulse, he then raised the temperature to a tolerable warmth and let the water drown his face...until he realized the water had turned to blood.

"AHHHHH! HEY!!!" he shrieked as he backed away in a daze.

You sat on the edge of his bed, checking your phone to see if your mom had called and since she hadn't, you figured no news was good news and surprisingly, you didn't have any texts or calls from Lee either, which you weren't so sure if that was good news.

You brought up Lee's number and as your finger hovered with hesitancy over the call button, you heard Dave's yell and this time, it sounded legit. Dropping your phone, you raced to the bathroom door but it was locked so you you began pounding on it.

"Dave!!! What's wrong???!!!"

He stared up at the showerhead and then in a moment of clarity and humiliation, he realized it was only rust.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's just a plumbing job I did the other day. Rusty water."

"O...oh." you sighed in relief and then giggled. "Gross."

"I heard that! Not funny Jo."

You started singing to tease him. "Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon, you come and go, you come and gooooo ohhh!"

"Girl, I'm going to come out there butt ass naked and carry you in here with me! Here I come!!" he playfully threatened.

"Oh hell no!" you squealed and ran downstairs laughing, knowing he wasn't going to chase you naked.

As you stood in the downstairs bathroom brushing your teeth with the toothbrush Dave kept there specifically for you, you had to smile. One of the best things about your relationship with Dave was that it was easy. There were no secrets and you both understood each other without even having to speak and even when you pissed each other off, it only lasted a hot minute. He was a safe place for you. If you hadn't been involved with Gerry when you met Dave, things might have been different between you and Dave.

The storm had passed and as you and Dave finished up your breakfast of French toast and sausage, the early bird was outside waiting for his meal. A meal ticket that was....and just then, the landline rang.

Dave sighed with an eye roll and wiped his mouth, then got up to answer it.

"Probably work wanting me to come in early since I'm due back today from my vacation. Hello? Dr. Conrad speaking."

"Ahh, Dr. Conrad. Just the person I have been trying to reach. Clearly you are home since you answered the phone and also there's your truck in the driveway. I guess you just didn't hear me knocking earlier."

Dave went straight to the living room window and peeled back the curtain.

"I was in the sho...I'm sorry, who is this?" he asked with furrowed brows and then caught sight of the forest green dodge charger parked in front of the neighbor's house with deeply tinted side windows.

"Pardon my manners doctor. I'm detective Luke Evans with the Salem Police Department. I have been trying to reach you for questioning in the matters of the recently deceased Elizabeth Webber and now, an injured, possibly attacked miss Megan March. Both women you know. May I come up?"

"It's 8 am??''

"Well you've been a hard man to locate so I figured I'd have a better shot at catching you bright and early. This won't take long."

"Give me a minute."

"I'll be right here waiting. Alright bye."

Dave hung up and Luke watched the front door like a hawk.

"Dave?? Who was that? Is someone here?" you asked in concern as you stood in the dining room watching him.

"Just as you said last night at the hospital. That the cops would be all over this."

"The police are here???"

"Just one. Your new favorite detective."

"Ohhhh hell no. Luke...is here??"

You whipped the curtain back open, but didn't see his bike. "Where??"

"Green charger."

Once you saw it, your anger towards him resurfaced from his prior visit at Lee's lake house and you bolted right out the door.

"Unnnnbelievable!" you erupted as you marched straight for him which caught Luke off guard , for he was just as stunned to see you as you were him.

He didn't even have a chance to get out of the car when there you were, dispensing your rage at him outside his window.

"You came all the way to Grandview?! What are you doing here??!!"

He rolled the window down with his hazel hues locked in yours. "Can I get out of the car to explain?"

You stepped back with a huff and a sarcastic sway of your arm in a gesture of agreement.

"By all means, please do detective dick."

Luke sighed as he stepped out. "Classy Jo. Do you want to tone it down a little bit?"

No, I do not. Not even a little bit and don't speak to me about class when you know nothing about it."

"Ok, I get it. You're still salty...."

"Salty?" you derisively laughed. "I'm furious! You do know interrogation rooms at the POLICE station are there for a reason?? Yet you insist on randomly showing up at people's homes like a feral fucking cat. All you had to do was call him and ask him to come in and he would have."

"I did call. Multiple times this morning before I came here, but I guess you and the good doctor here were.....sleeping?"

You wanted to wipe his smug smirk right off of his face. "Ohhhh, don't you even. Yes, we WERE sleeping and not that it's any of your business, if you must know, I slept in the guest room."

"Well thank you for the 411 but now I need some from David if you don't mind."

"Actually I DO mind. This is bullshit and..."

Dave appeared next to you. "Josie, it's ok. I have nothing to hide."

"I know you don't but this is not ok Dave!"

"Look Jo. The sooner the doc here answers my questions, the sooner I can get out of your hair unless you want to keep interfering with the investigation, then..."

"Then what Luke? You'll arrest me??"

He took a step forward and now stood towering over you, peering down with a cocky brow.

"Don't tempt me."

You stood your ground and stepped forward as well with your stomach merely inches from his as you glared up at him.

"Go ahead. I dare you."

Luke dropped his head and smiled, shaking his head in disbelief as he rubbed his eyes and heavily sighed.

"You do realize I am just doing my job right? Would you be giving Gerry such a hard time of he were the one here??"

"Yeah well I hate your job and yes, yes I would be the same way with Gerry but I would rather deal with him than you any day."

"Well he's not here. I am, so deal with it or I can begin reading you your rights. Your choice sweetheart."

"Fine." you sneered and then mumbled under your breath as you moved beside Dave. "God I can't stand him."

"Alright. David. First things first." Luke began as he pulled out his pen and little black book that Craig had called it. You chuckled inside when you also remembered what he called Luke. An audacious British fuck, for that he was.

"Where were you 2 nights ago on the 20th of March up to last night when you arrived at the hospital with the injured miss March?"

Dave's eyes flowed down to you with reluctance, for he knew you were going to flip when you heard his answer.

"I...was on Spoon island. I had actually been there for the past 6 days."

Your mouth dropped open. "You were at Wyndemere????!!! And you're just now telling me this??"

"He's actually telling me." Luke griped at you, then aimed his next question at Dave. "What's Wyndemere?"

Of course you answered for Dave as you stared at the nervous doctor and it was quite acerbic.

"Oh it's just Dracula's creepy castle on it's very own remote island on the outskirts of Salem, how fitting, and it has an abundance of secret tunnels probably filled with coffins and let us not forget the multiple parapets that people have either fallen from or been tossed off of over the years."

Dave became annoyed. "Ok, my father is not a vampire and that castle is just a mansion on an island with a cottage and even a horse stable. It was a nice getaway from life."

Now your eyes gaped to match your mouth. "Since when do you call Victor your father???"

"Since that's what he is Jo!"

"By DNA only!!! He's a murderous monster or did you forget what he..."

"That's enough Jo." Dave spat through his teeth with his eyes reminding you to keep your mouth shut.

"Yes, that's enough of your whinging." Luke protested. "David, what is Victor's full name and what is this about murder??"

"Victor Cassadine. You may have heard the surname before as it's quite notorious, just as the rumors are, like Josie was speaking of."

"And this man is your father as you stated? Will he vouge for you?"

"Yes. I am sure he will."

"Is there anyone else that can also attest to your whereabouts? And...at anytime during your stay, did you leave the island?"

"There's a ferry that goes to and from there at specific times, but I did not leave. You can question the ferryman. It's always the same guy except on rare occasions. He saw me and I do have my tickets for both their and back. I'll go get them."

"That was quite the detailed narrative there Josie. Did you get that from watching the vampire diaries? Or maybe from that book you were reading? The Cult of Dolos was it?"

"Oh shut up. Now that we have a minute alone. Why don't you tell me about Sam Colin???"

All of Luke's movements ceased as his eyes seemed hypnotized by that name.

"Wh..who?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Lee told me and now I want to hear it from you."

Luke was now trying to read you like a book as he shifted his weight to one leg and raised a brow.

"Lee told you huh? Told you what...exactly?"

"That you set him up somehow."

"Somehow? So Lee did NOT tell you." Luke stepped forward again, so close that you actually took a step back. "Don't toy with me Jo. I don't like games."

"I'm not toying with you. He told me Luke. All about how that name was one of Peter's aliases, but of course he did not know that at the time and something bad...really bad, happened because of it and I want to know what it was."

Luke's jaw clenched and grinded. "Did it ever occur to you that if he wanted you to know, he would tell you or...just maybe... he can't tell you?? Why can't you just leave well enough alone??"

"Because Lee isn't well!! He's changing because of whatever this fucking secret is. Do you even care about him at all??? Ever since you came back, it's triggered something inside of him. He physically attacked me from a deep sleep because he thought I was someone that was trying to hurt him!! I also know that Peter's brother, some Charles Rane who was a terrorist like their father Faison, was involved and that Lee set off some bomb that killed him. And he also talked about people being shot in front of him!"

"Well it would seem you have the answer to your question then. It makes sense yes? Lee is simply having some PTSD episodes."

"And it was something you caused to happen! It all makes sense as to why he has been so aggressive towards you. So what was it Luke?? What did you do to him? According to him, you and he were really close at one time and now all he wants to do is rip your head off after what you did to Landy. What did you do Luke????"

"Ok. You need to back your ass up and stay in your lane. This has nothing to do with you little girl. You wanna fuck with the bull, you gotta deal with the horns." he snarled in your face with flaring nostrils like that of said bull which was very similar to what he had done to you at Orlando's.

"This ain't my first rodeo with a steer, you know, a castrated male trying to compensate for what he lacks by playing tough guy?"

"You know, I will never understand what Lee ever saw in you. If anyone has changed him, it's you. I thought Liz was the cause of his downfall, but you..."he chuckled. "you clearly have her beat. Tell me Jo, does Lee know you're here? You really seem to like that doctor dick. Which one is bigger? Lee's, Dave's or Landy's?? Inquiring minds want to know."

Like a bull, you saw red and just snapped. A sharp sear of adrenaline mixed with anger rushed through you and you charged Luke, shoving him hard against his car.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM??!!!"

The next thing you knew, Dave's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back.

"Josie, what the hell are you doing??!!"

Dazed and confused, Luke held his back against the car for a few seconds and then his lips planted together in a thin line as he became fed up. He abruptly pushed himself up, pulled out his handcuffs and grabbed your wrist,

"That's it. You have the right to remain silent." he began to recite as your eyes widened at the click of the first cuff.

"Whoa whoa. What are you doing??" Dave intervened.

Luke took you other wrist and continued, ignoring the concerned doctor as you and Luke's eyes were fixed upon each other.

Click.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

You said nothing as you glowered up at him.

"Come on man. Can't you give her a break?" Dave desperately asked.

"I am. I handcuffed her in the front." Luke gloated and opened the front door of his car. "Which is why you will sit where I can see you."

You refused to move as he placed his hand on your upper arm. " Gerry will take care of this. I'm not worried Dave."

"You assaulted a police officer. Although it's misdemeanor in Massachusetts, it carries anywhere form 90 days to 2 and a half years. Even Gerry can't make that go away for an entitled brat like you."

"We'll see about that...and on the ride back...don't speak to me and I won't speak to you ok?." you barked and got in the car.

"You promise?" Luke cheerfully riposted.

Luke buckled you in, roughly tugging the belt to tighten it and then brought his lips only inches from yours, his hot mouthwash breath tickling your lips as he whispered with a smug smirk.

"Comfy?"

He slammed the door and turned to Dave, taking the ferry tickets from him and then he got in the car and as he drove away, you frowned and looked at Dave as you mouthed 2 words to him.

"I'm sorry."

Lee awoke from his drug and alcohol induced slumber feeling worse than he had the night before and it wasn't from medicating himself. It was the lucid dreams that he couldn't escape from no matter what he put in his body to try and tame them, for there was no escape from now.

As he stood at the bay window in his high rise office, flashes of those dreams haunted him, only they weren't dreams. They were memories.

All he wanted to do was pick up the phone and call you and tell you everything, but he could barely weather the visions, let alone speak of them. How was he supposed to tell you that the cause of his mother's death and his father's illness were all a lie?

Lee reached down into his pocket and pulled out a silver pocket locket that he belonged to his father. As he opened it, he stared down at the photo he had placed inside of his young parents and him as a baby.

With tears of guilt growing in his sapphire eyes, he spoke to it.

"I wasn't the good son you told me I was dad. If you could have remembered, you would have never said it. You've been gone a month today, but I guess you had already been gone years before that. I'm sure you know everything now, wherever you are and I hope you can forgive me."

Lee snapped the locket shut and dried his tired eyes, then headed home to shower and later go to visit his mom and dad's graves. Maybe even go to church that he had been neglecting and ask God for forgiveness as well. Even as upset as you were with him, he prayed you would come still come for the visit, for he needed you now more than ever.

@redeemer46

[alexwlchan]

Operation Cornleyed Beef: A Screwed Musical

After the family of Willie Watkins arrange a snap Broadway transfer for Operation Mincemeat, the Fortune Theatre is left scrambling to fill some star-studded shoes. With the original cast and covers heading stateside, who would play our iconic heroes?

Luckily, Seán knew a troupe who were always looking for work – the Cornley Drama Society, with whom he’d performed briefly before being expelled on the grounds of excessive competence. He gave them a call, and what luck! They were available immediately.

And so a week of intense rehearsals begins…

(The idea of Mincemeat staged by Mischief characters was put into my head last night and it’s so fun; thanks to everyone in the Mincefluencers Discord for egging me on. More ideas likely to follow!)

—

“So we need to start casting”, said Chris, speaking loudly enough to be heard on the next street. (And yet still unheard by half the cast in the room.)

“The first protagonist is Montagu, a suave, handsome, intelligent naval officer. Naturally I will be playi–”

“Hold on”, exclaimed Robert. “How come you get the lead role?”

“And the next lead character”, Chris continued, speaking just a little louder, “is Charles, the lolloping sidekick who has a single good idea in the entire play. Robert, you wanted to have a lead part, here you go.”

(One critic described their performance as “more antagonistic than with the original cast”. A second called it “a war crime”. Other critics were less kind.)

—-

“Next we need to cast the women, Jean and Hester. Jean is the plucky young tea girl who gets her hands dirty in the mission, and sings about how women should take men’s jobs. Sandra, you will be playi–”

Sandra burst into a big smile, imagining how Jean would steal the show, lost in a world and not listening to what Chris said next.

“–while Hester is the uptight, stuffy matriarch of the MI5 office, who will be played by Vanessa–”

whose face dropped visibly at this description

“–and who gets one of the most moving numbers of the play, ‘Dear Bill’.”

Vanessa’s smile picked up at this news, while Sandra scowled at the thought of being upstaged.

(Vanessa’s rendition of “Dear Bill” would never reach the solemn heights of the original cast, a reflection more on Robert and Sandra trying to overshadow her than her own performing ability.)

—-

“Next, we need to cast Spilsbury, a bombastic and enthusiastic mortician. Max is the obvious choice.”

Max beamed, just delighted to be included.

(This casting choice would cause some consternation for Chris on opening night – Spilsbury always entered to rapturous applause, causing Max to burst into a big smile, leave the stage, and enter again. Three times. One reviewer called it the highlight of his night. Another said that Max had “perfectly captured Spilsbury’s energy”.)

“You’ll also be playing Willie Watkins, an American pilot crashes in Spain – make sure you practice your American accent.”

(Max produced a number of accents with great enthusiasm, even if none of them were American.)

—-

“Moving down the list… Fleming will be played by Jonathan. We’ll need some gadgets for him, can you arrange that Trev–”

“I can do it!” exclaimed Robert, before Trevor could open his mouth.

“Wonderful,” said Chris, in a tone that implied Robert was anything but.

(Quite how Robert acquired a real exploding watch from the dark web remains a mystery, to both Chris and the West Midlands police. Unfortunately for Cornley, it exploded in Jonathan’s face five minutes before curtain up, and he had to be rushed to A&E – via the stage of “NHS The Musical” playing in the next theatre.)

(Trevor was sent on to read Fleming’s lines, which he did so in a completely deadpan tone. “And then he snogs a sexy lady with full tongue” killed the mood in the theatre, as well as the three dates happening in the front row. One reviewer would later compliment the juxtaposition of exuberant music with the flat delivery as the only thing he liked.)

(“At this performance, due to a technical issue in the props department, the role of Fleming will be played by Trevor. Now there’s a combination you don't have on your bingo sheets!” Chris pretended to laugh at this ‘joke’, with the laugh of a man who has complete disdain for all he addresses.)

—-

“Annie, you’ll be playing Bevan, the stern senior officer who chastises Monty when the plan goes awry.”

Annie let out a wordless acceptance, too scared to speak aloud when Chris was in the room.

(This same lack of confidence carried into the performance, which rather undercut Bevan’s sense of authority.)

—-

Dennis was the last cast member to be given a role, and Chris found several small, mostly non-speaking parts. Finally, something Dennis couldn’t turn into a disaster!

(Oh, the optimism. Dennis had a line in the opening number, written on his hands an aid Memoire. Unfortunately he didn’t write down the order, so he came out with “I do love it when … me … want to kiss the … ladies.” Vanessa looked even more mortified than usual.)

(During the second act opener, Dennis put his hands up, and kept putting them back up. Several other cast on stage were considering acts of violence, and not just in the lyrical sense.)

[juneberrie]

ahhh lizzie i’ve been in the art dept since 8:30am (and now it’s 3:30pm)

i still have another 1.5 hours left and then the play is later (3hours)

send help

vinnieeee omg why-

ooh good luck with the playy! in my theatre class were like doing rlly short plays and i get to play a dead body, a ghost, and a prince lmao

i cant send help rn but im sending hugs and flowers for opening night <3 🫂🫂🌷

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Over the River and through the Wood

Okay guys, this is the first story that I have EVER written, and It's been something that I've wanted to at least try. So please just keep the insults to a minimum, and tell me what you think.

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

I was 18 when I started smoking weed. My friends and I would just roll out through the streets of my city, blasting rap music, reminiscing about fun times as well as making our own as we went. We would pick up a sack, get some cigarillos, grab some munch food and just take a 2 hour drive through the backroads on the outskirts of my hometown.

Having just graduated high school, I considered these the most fun times of my life because I had never gotten high when I was still in school. It was a new experience, and I can easily say that pot has had a major influence on the way that I think and see situations.

So as you can imagine, when I got busted with an O in my car, I was pretty upset. I couldn't even fathom a life without marijuana now. But at the same time, it was a really dumb idea to just smoke out in a vehicle where you're pretty much easy prey for the cops to catch you.

We all got a major scare from this, as one of my friends that was with me got hit with a 20 sack as well. We all still wanted to smoke the ganj of course, but we had to find a safer way of going about it. We couldn't at our houses; our parents were a little strict about that kind of stuff.

Around this time, we all were playiing basketball on a daily basis, being summer and all. The normal place that we went to to play was really an inside swimming pool with a basketball court up the hill from it. Near the entrance to the pool building, there is a small playground near the woods. The woods themselves served as a kind of public nature preserve that had many trails throughout that all eventually connected with eachother and led out to 3 different exits.

This was already a regular smoke spot for people in the area already; we were always seeing people our age walking up the trail that was next to the basketball court into the woods, only to come back out 30 minutes later with the tell tale signs of stoners. We also saw this as the perfect place to smoke, and one night, decided to try it out.

It was my friends Kyle, Bailey, and I who went into the woods at about 11 at night or so; the girls were too scared to go there at that time. We walked for about half an hour or so, taking in the sights and surroundings, looking at the various signs posted describing what types of plants and such were nearby.

Eventually, all of the paths seemed to lead into a big circle. This was kind of a surprise to me, because the woods seemed a lot larger than the trails gave justice to. We were about to go ahead and find a place to sit so we could light up, until I noticed a somewhat hidden path that was blocked by a fallen tree branch. It was also partially hidden by leaves because it didnt even seem like a path until we started to walk it.

The trail eventually split two ways, both of which we went. To the right, a crude path led to a dead end called Honeysuckle Hollow (or so the signs depicted), while going straight led to an open area, about 40 feet or so wide, and in a circular fashion. There were signs there naming the wildlife again, but there was a sign which said "Leaves of Three: Let It Be," which we thought was kind of funny. We found a large stone bench type of thing and proceeded to spark the blunts. We started making jokes about the sign, and even named ourselves the 3 leaves after the sign, since there were 3 of us. There was another sign that showed a few different types of flowers, the top one named Larkspur. We decided to name this place "The Lark" from that point on, and after we were finished smoking, we left.

It became a regular thing smoking in the Lark. We found a trailhead (the 3rd exit) and it was pretty much a shorter way to get to our destination. This was satisfactory for awhile, but eventually we all became interested in going deeper into these woods. There was still one more trail that was the opposite direction of the entrance to the Lark, so one day we followed it.

Not surprisingly, we passed more signs, and finally came to a wooden platform, which I can only really describe as a boat dock for fishing. It had 3 benches and was surrounded by a wooden railing, about 15 by 15. This became our new place to smoke, as it offered a more comfortable place to sit and it was obviously further from the open area. There was still one more trail that ran beside this wooden platform, but it was really hard to spot because, I thought, it was just rarely ever walked.

As time went by, my curiousity of the trail heightened. My friends weren't really interested, as the whole point of this place was to smoke, not to explore. But my mind was made up. I wanted to know what other cool stuff lie in wait in these woods. It felt like I had a strong desire to just have some kind of closure on the trails: I wanted to see everything these woods had to offer. What a mistake.

One day after work, I decided to walk to the pool and through the trails to finish the trails. I had a blunt rolled up already for this adventure, and I sparked it as I got to the wooden platform. The "path" led downhill, and around some trees, then made a sharp incline upwards. There were a few somewhat visible trails that split in a lot of different directions, but none of them were really definable. I decided to just keep going straight, which was actually a pretty difficult walk, which I can now safely call a hike.

I knew that the real trails made by the Park Preservation Foundation ended at that wooden platform, because there were no signs anywhere after that point. In my mind, I thought these trails were made by other curious people (probably other stoners). Looking back, I don't know why I thought it was such a good idea to explore these trails, especially alone.

I had been smoking and walking this uphill incline for about ten minutes, examining the scenery in hopes of finding something, anything that looked interesting. But there was nothing but nature. I started to reach the top of the area, and I was about 1/4 the way through with the blunt. In other words, in the beginning stages of stonage.

At the top, the ground level was normal, but I could see that about 50 feet in front of me, there was an opening. The opening looked like it led out of the woods, but I had walked a pretty great distance; I honestly had no clue what to expect when I walked out.

As I exited the woods, I found myself in a very large, and again, circular area surrounded by trees. This area's circumference I could only estimate as being the length of 3 football fields. In all directions, all I could see past this clearing were trees. As I started to look around, I noticed two things. About 30 feet straight in front of me, there was a plain looking building, similar in size to a large one story house. Looking to my left, a small path led over to a fenced area. This is what caught my eye the most, because it was an inward barbed fence, that had caution signs on it warning about electricity.

Inside of the fenced area, there was a stone square with 4 of these things on it that resembled something like a generator or a heating unit. Directly to the left of these generators was a tall outpost. I remember thinking that it looked like what you would see guards standing on at a prison, watching for escapees. What I saw next got my blood pumping a little bit. On top of this tower, there was a windsock, which is used to detect aircraft.

I could only question what I was seeing. Why would a place out in the middle of the woods need an aircraft detector? Why were the barbed wires bet inwards? What the hell even was this place?

As I thought to myself, I took my last hit of the blunt, and was at the peak of my buzz. I walked along side of the fencing, and saw a ramp running along side of the stone platform leading to an apparent underground facility.

I'm not an idiot: I wasn't going to go adventuring underground in an unknown place to me, especially since it was obviously meant to keep people in, not out. But I was still intruiged, and a little scared at the same time. I decided to walk out towards the building I had first noticed. As I approached it, I discerned that there were actually no signs; no markings of any kind to help me figure out what it was for.

I always try to rationalize situations, but at this point I was getting wary. There were no exits to this place other than the one I came in from, and the idea of some crazed killer or something taking refuge in this building while I'm out of screaming distance would have normally jolted me. But I was high as a kite, and felt no fear.

The door seemed like it was locked, but after a few seconds of yanking at the handle, I got it open. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly fell down as I heard/saw two deer run from out of the far end of the woods to the north, towards another section to the east. My heart racing, I thought about the deer. They were the first animals of any kind that I had even ever seen in these woods. I found the fact odd to say the least, yet dismissed it as animals fearing human contact. I steeled myself, and entered the building.

The first thing that I noticed was that the inside of the building did not portray what the outside did. I looked around and saw all kind sof machinery and computers that looked pretty advanced, at least in my eyes. It reminded me of a scientific laboratory, and I kind of started to get a sick feeling, so I immediately left the building.

At this point, I didn't have that curious feeling anymore. In fact, the feeling I had was more like paranoia. As if my worst fears were coming true, I heard a door open. I immediately realized that it was the door that lead to the underground facility, and instinctively I hid behind the building I had just exited. I saw two men wearing Hazmat suits walking towards the fence that led to the open area. They proceeded to walk towards the furthest end of this clearing from the only exit. The seemed to open some kind of latch on the ground, and then I saw it.

In chains, these two scientists or whatever the hell they were pulled out a man with a black bag over his head, arms chained behind his back along with chains on his ankles. He seemed to have been drugged; he could barely stand or utter anything legible. I couldn't really tell what they were doing, but it looked like they were drawing his blood or something of that nature. I'm really glad that I decided not to explore the building, because one of the two scientists walked to the building, luckily the opposite side of it that I was hiding on, and went inside. I don't know how I can relate to you how genuinely scared I was.

After the one scientist went inside the building, I watched the other one. He seemed to be acting the part of a doctor; checking vitals, eyes, the inside of the mans mouth, etc. I didn't know what to think really. I just stood there and prayed I would have a chance to get out of this place. I then heard the door open again.

I watched as the scientist walked over to his colleague and shake his head in disappointment. The scientist who was checking the prisoners vitals and what-not proceeded to pull out a silenced pistol, and shoot the man in the head, dropping him cold.

I almost screamed. I could not even fathom what I was seeing, and believe me, I knew what I was seeing was legit. I watched these men carry the body all the way from the latch they pulled him from, over to the fenced underground area, and down the ramp through the door. As I saw the door shut, I fucking booked it. I ran all the way from the side of the building I hid behind through the clearing, hoping that no one would see me. As I reached the incline that now would slant sharply downhill, I didn't give a fuck. My adrenaline running rampant, I took long strides as I ran at pretty much a 45 degree angle downhill. I didn't stop when I reached the wooden platform signalling the end of the actual trails, nor did I stop when I reached the Lark. I didn't even stop when I was out of the woods altogether, running all the way to where the playground area was.

I finally stopped to catch my breath, and to take in what I had just seen. I thought about going to the police, but something about that place screamed "top secret government research" in my head. I thought that I might be killed just for seeing what I had seen. I had no clue what to think, and without being able to tell my friends what happened, I just plain refused to smoke in any part of those woods anymore.

If you are like me, and you smoke weed every day, you know what it does to your mind. You do not hallucinate. You do not see things that are not there, let alone what I had seen. I knew that what I had seen was something sinister and secret, yet I reveal this to you all now, years later.

I have become extremely paranoid. When I see people, I immediately think that they are working for the government. I feel like I can't trust anyone. I am at the point to where if I don't do something drastic, I will end up killing myself.

I've decided to go back to that place, during the night this time. I'm confident that no one saw me the first time, that's why I've been safe all these years. What I saw happened in daylight, so I can only imagine what kind of experiments or whatever it is they are doing there goes on during the night. This is the first message I am sending out to you all, and my second detailing what I discover tonight will be sent when I return.

Wish me luck.

Credit to:knives1990

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

okayyyyy!!! bad week politically but it's chapter five! and Tash is my uwu babygirl forever.

The following morning Tash Taylor woke up in a strange bed and promptly had a panic attack.

The time and place were terrible, as these things went, but Tash had figured out a while ago that there was really no such thing as a convenient moment to completely fall apart. Her heart was beating so hard that it felt like her chest was going to cave in, breath was coming in strained and strangled gasps, and her consciousness was shrinking rapidly away from her body. God, this was fucking mortifying. 

Focus. Focus. She’d found things that helped, hadn’t she? She’d done all the research she could, trying to figure out how you put your brain back together when you would probably never be able to see a real doctor again in your life. Why had she never bothered to check out the free therapy on campus? She might have learned something, anything, that would help her now.

Think, Tash.

Breathe. Long breath in, hold that until it hurts, let it out slow. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Not all of the breaths work, sometimes it hitches and leaves her sputtering, paralyzed body jerking and twitching. Christ, she’s so cold. No, she can do this. One breath after the other. Tie everything to that, pull her mind back into her body even though it feels like an awful, shambolic place to be, like standing in a house getting ripped apart in an earthquake. Hold it together.

The five senses. That’s something, right? You’re supposed to check in, pay attention to things around you and focus on that so that your brain has something to do other than circle the drain. She can do that. All she has to do is open her eyes. Now. Now. Okay, now. 

No. Not yet. Too overwhelming, too much unknown. Start smaller. What about smell?

She buries her face deep in the pillow and inhales deeply, surprised when she’s greeted by a vanilla-ish scent that’s not unpleasant. It’s a little too sweet, reminiscent of the glittery body spray every girl used in middle school. But there are worse things to smell like than a store in the mall where shoddy ear piercings get done.

The pillowcase is nice, too, and Tash rubs it between her fingers. That feels like silk, unless she’s very much mistaken, and so do the sheets. Her hair is already a disaster, badly damaged and sorely in need of a trip to the salon that’s probably never going to come, but it’s nice to imagine that at least she won’t regret sleeping with it unwrapped last night. 

Okay. Okay. That’s two senses. What else is there? Taste?

No, that’s a mistake. The only thing to taste right now is the inside of her own mouth and that’s a bad place to be. That one’s always seemed like a mistake to her, anyway, really relying on the assumption that you happened to have something edible on hand when you started freaking out. Or maybe the point is to get you really tasting the back of your own teeth, catching a whiff of your last meal so you can ground yourself in how gross that is. It does seem to be working.

Tash rubs a little circle in the sheet, presses her face harder into the pillowcase. Her heart is slowing down, if nothing else. She thought she understood anxiety once, might have even blithely said she’d had a panic attack or two, but it turns out that all she ever had was a case of the social jitters. Oh, baby Tash, you get stressed out sometimes? You can’t handle a room full of strangers without a buddy to cling to or a drink in your hand? That’s cute. Wait until you find out what it’s like to have your own heart trying to kill you, beating so hard that it aches in your sternum. What then?

No. No, that’s not helping. Deep breath, deep breath. What can she hear, over the sound of her own mutinous body?

Movement. Not in this room, probably, but not so far away. And the sounds are right out of a commercial trying to sell you something breakfasty, somebody bustling around opening up rattling drawers and moving tinkling dishes. Fleetwood Mac is playing and whoever’s cooking is singing along with an incredible lack of self-consciousness considering that they are no Stevie Nicks. Something sizzles, and the smell of a greasy breakfast hits Tash with enough force to make her mouth water. She’s flirted with going vegetarian and even vegan in the past, opposed as is she to factory farming and the way cows fart out greenhouse gasses en masse and all that, but in this exact moment she’ll take the meat no questions asked. There’s a cold pit in her belly that doesn’t exactly hurt but never feels good; Tash can’t remember the last time she didn’t feel a little hungry. 

She’s calming down now, which is crazy because Tash is pretty sure she knows where she is and it’s not somewhere she wanted to be. Later she’s going to have a meeting with her self-loathing that’s not going to go well for her, but for the time being at least she can be functional. The state of immediate crisis has passed.

Tash sat up, slow and achy, her body sore in ways that she’d forgotten. She’d slept pressed close to a wall, not far from a window whose blinds were hanging askew. She looked away sharply from that, before she could get any ideas; the last thing she needed was to suddenly be standing out on the sidewalk in her underwear. It had come to her attention that she wasn’t wearing much of anything, just her own boy shorts and a T-shirt that she could have been swaddled in. Upon closer inspection it bore a shitty cartoon of Ricochet and the words SUPERHERO APPRECIATION DAY, which made Tash want to hurl.

The rest of the room wasn’t much better on that front. This was a drag queen’s boudoir smashed together with a nerd convention; tucked among the sequins and stacks of magazines and an actual dress form there were countless action figures, plushies, art prints, and stickers depicting a whole host of costumed creeps that Tash didn’t know. But the ones that she did recognize were there over and over: Ricochet and Sub-Zero and Frostbite herself, rendered in every medium imaginable. It was ghoulish, to be sure, but it also brought Tash’s racing mind to a clunky, graceless stop through the power of sheer disgust.

“Jesus Christ,” she said out loud. “What is wrong with you?”

Which was when Frostbite, as if waiting for her cue, announced herself from the doorway.

“Hey! You’re awake!”

***

Tash flinched when Jessie spoke, which was fair because she had been drinking like a dog the night before and was probably hungover to hell and back, but she also jerked her head hard to stare down into her own blanket-covered lap, as if she was afraid that Jessie might be indecent. Which actually wasn’t an unreasonable concern either, on second glance.

“Whoa there, no worries,” Jessie said, hovering in the doorway of her own bedroom. “I just thought you might want some water and aspirin before breakfast. I didn’t know what you like, so there’s some of everything. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, hash browns, coffee. I even chopped up some fruit. And I could make you some toast or a bagel, if you want.”

Tash was ignoring her, instead looking with suspicion at the glass of water and the pills Jessie had left on the nightstand. 

“What? It’s just knock-off brand painkillers, it’s safe,” Jessie said. “I think I have ibuprofen too if you prefer that, and it’s only a little expired.”

“Why would I trust fucking anything you give me?” Tash asked, rough-voiced. “I take this and then what, you sell me to S.C.R.U. or the next highest bidder?”

“Jesus Christ, you think I work for the government? Seriously?” Jessie shoved down the urge to be annoyed by that. Now that Tash was sobered up and hungover she was evidently skittish all over again, which was an irritating step back but not insurmountable. “Babe, listen, you can take it or leave it. If I wanted to bag you up and raffle you off, I wouldn’t have waited for you to wake up. I’d just chloroform you while you were sleeping, you know? Work smarter, not harder.”

Which Tash looked disgusted by, but she evidently agreed with the logic since she shrugged and downed both aspirins with the entire glass of water anyway.

“Atta girl,” Jessie said. “Bathroom’s over here, if you need it. And your yoga pants are on the vanity, if you want ‘em. No worries if not, though. We encourage nudity here.”

But nudity wasn’t on the docket anymore. Tash returned from the bathroom dressed in last night’s squashed clothes, hiding in the protective hugeness of her sweatshirt as she skulked into the kitchen. Jessie was getting everything plated up at the small, rickety table by then, happy to present the heaps of food she’d made for both of them. Thank god she had bothered to get groceries yesterday; this would have been mortifying if she hadn’t had anything to offer but her freezer burned breakfast burritos. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tash said, looking over the spread. “Did you invite more people over?”

“Nope. I just like to cook, and I haven’t had an excuse to go all out in a while. Grab as much as you want.”

Tash sank into her seat slowly, moving so gingerly you’d think she expected the chair to blow up, then stared at the food like she didn’t remember how to feed herself. 

“Coffee?” Jessie asked brightly. “Orange juice?”

“Orange juice,” Tash mumbled. She blinked hard, keeping her eyes shut too long, then opened them and seemed more calm. “And coffee, black. Did we have sex last night?”

“What? No.” Jessie passed her the juice, which she’d gone to the trouble of squeezing herself because boredom and horniness were a powerful combination. “I mean, almost. You were really going for it. Didn’t quite shake out, though.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tash buried her face in her hands, shaking her head in slow despair.

“We didn’t actually get anywhere,” Jessie said. ���If that helps at all. You got a little nervous.”

That was putting it mildly. By the time they had walked back to Jessie’s—not a short walk, mind you, made longer by the two of them getting into a couple fights on the way—Jessie was pretty well sobered up and feeling fine aside from a mild headache. She’d more or less abandoned the idea that anything sexy was going to happen between them; this was going to be a purely professional situation in which two colleagues shared a bed out of deeply unsensual necessity. 

Then they’d hit the apartment and Tash, who’d been drinking like the world was ending and was very much still feeling it, had pounced with an astonishing lack of subtlety or ambiguity. One moment Jessie was fighting for her life trying to fumble her earrings out, the next Tash was kissing her furiously on the mouth. Jessie’s initial reaction to that was, admittedly, horror rather than excitement, because she’d thrown up in the gutter on the way home and god only knew what was happening in her mouth by that point. But on the other hand, Tash had held her hair back for her while she yarfed, which was the sweetest thing anyone who wasn’t Jonas had ever done for her. The feeling of Tash’s hands in her hair had been shockingly intimate, and those same hands cradling her face had her heart hammering.

She mumbled something embarrassing into Tash’s mouth, something like “Aren’t you tired?” but Tash had shoved that question aside rather forcefully with her tongue. Evidently she was as awake as she needed to be, tugging Jessie down into bed. 

That lasted for all of a couple minutes, and that was a generous estimate. The point being that Tash very suddenly went still under Jessie, limp and unresponsive as a dead fish and squeezing her eyes shut tight while her breathing got all jerky.

Jessie had rolled away immediately. “Hey. Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Tash said, and then took a long, shaky wet breath that very much indicated that the rest of that sentence ought to be not okay even a little bit jesus christ. What she actually said was, “I’m fine. I just need a second.”

She was curling up towards the wall, holding her own head tightly in her hands. There was not much about this that suggested she was going to be fine in a second, or any time soon.

“It’s okay,” Jessie said quietly. “It’s fine, no rush. Maybe we just call it a night, okay? Do you want some water or anything?”

Tash whimpered. “No. I’m, no, I’m fine. I just think this was a mistake. Sorry. I’m really sorry, this is stupid. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“No,” Jessie said, too quickly, and then backpedaled, not wanting to scare her. “I mean, you shouldn’t do that. My couch is bad, and you said you’re already fucking up your back sleeping in your cousin’s living room, right? You take the bed, you’re a guest. I can sleep in the living room for one night.”

“That’s stupid,” Tash said weakly. Any trace of the confidence she’d rediscovered through the night was gone; she was curled in on herself whimpering and absolutely wretched now. “Just let me go, alright? I’m sorry, I fucked up.”

“Shut the fuck up. Sorry, but Jesus. You’re allowed to change your mind or whatever, okay? I’m not mad about it. Just hunker down and try to get some sleep.” 

Jessie rearranged herself, smoothing out her pajamas and wiggling herself under the comforter. Tash was laying with her face towards the wall, her back to Jessie. Her side was rising and falling in a way that suggested she was breathing hard, trembling silently. Jessie wanted badly to reach out and touch her, give her a totally sexless squeeze of reassurance, but she worried that would make Tash jump out of her skin right now. She wrapped her arms around her own body instead, holding herself back. 

She said, quietly, “I didn’t invite you over because I wanted you to fuck me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“What?” 

“I wasn’t scheming or whatever. I just thought this would be fun. So actually I should be sorry, I guess.”

There was a silence so long that she thought Tash had decided to completely ignore her, or had mercifully fallen asleep. 

Then her voice, quiet and croaky: “Can I ask you something stupid?”

“It’s probably not stupid, but sure.”

“Will you leave that light on?” Tash asked, meaning the small lamp with the sequined lampshade that sat on Jessie’s bedside table. “I can’t sleep when it’s too dark. Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry. I’ve got a little sleep mask anyway, okay? It’s fine.” Jessie pulled on the mask, powder blue silk snug on her face with Princess spelled out in rhinestones. It had been a joke once, a thing that she bought because as a child she’d thought it was the most luxurious thing to have a little mask that you put on just to protect your delicate eyes while you slept. And then it turned out it was actually perfectly comfortable, and now it would let her keep the light on for Tash, which was evidently important even if Tash wasn’t going to tell her why. So it was fine, everything was working out. Like they were meant to be together.

She’d crawled out of bed earlier than she would under any other circumstances, more motivated to be awake than she had been in weeks. Ordinarily she’d beeline to the bathroom, pee, and then fling herself back beneath the covers for another hour or six. Today she was so overjoyed to find that Tash hadn’t sprinted away in the middle of the night that she immediately got to work on providing a stronger incentive to stay.

It was too much, right? All of the food, and and going so far as to leave her water and painkillers. What did Jessie think she was, some kind of 50s housewife? A little domestic debutante? Fat chance. But the whole morning while she’d been bustling around the kitchen she’d been thinking about how glad she was that Tash was sleeping in, getting the rest she so obviously needed. Jessie felt soft! Squishy and soft and it was weird, but she’d moved so far beyond wanting Tash to be her one night stand or even her partner in crime. Jessie wanted to wrap Tash up in a blanket and feed her a home-cooked meal, which was an abstract level of horniness that she hadn’t previously known existed.

Well, one out of two wasn’t bad. Tash was tight-lipped but staying, had popped a few blueberries in her mouth and nodded to herself when it turned they really hadn’t been laced with arsenic. 

“Thanks,” she said. “For all this, and for being cool last night.”

“What, for not committing fucking date rape? Yeah, no problem. Low bar.” Jessie shook herself, startled all over again at just how low her reputation had sunk. She nodded to the food, because she knew she at least had to get some credit for making a damn nice breakfast spread. “Eat up already, will you? You look like a skeleton.”

Which Tash didn’t argue with, possibly because she had no actual rebuttal. She ate with a voracious efficiency, taking some of everything and chewing through it with a stoic focus that was, frankly, a little hot. When she’d finished everything on her plate she loaded up immediately on seconds and got to work eating with the exact same force, pausing only for alternating sips of juice and coffee. Any attempt at smalltalk by Jessie was rebuffed, not harshly but with a determinedly full mouth that prevented any responses more involved than grunts of affirmation or disapproval. 

Near the end of her second serving Tash started slowing down, finally reduced to toying around with her fork on her syrup-smeared plate. She cleared her throat, awkward. “Well, it’s been real. Let’s never do this again.”

“I can give you a ride,” Jessie said immediately. “Maudie and the girls dropped my brother’s van off this morning while we were both asleep. And you said your cousin’s place is practically out in the ‘burbs, right? It’ll be way faster than taking the bus.”

Tash’s left eye was twitching, very slightly. “I told you where my cousin’s house is?”

“Not, like, the address, but you know. Approximate. You said it’s a pain in the ass getting to work, that’s the main thing. Do you seriously not remember?”

That was evidently the wrong thing to say, because it sent Tash’s lip curling up in response. “No, jackass. I’m a fucking alcoholic, okay? I don’t just do a couple drinks and then have a silly night, I binge drink until I black out and try to fuck people I don’t like. No offense.”

“None taken,” Jessie said, but it was one of the less convincing lies she’d tell that morning.

Tash groaned and turned her face downward, avoiding Jessie’s eyes. “No, that was a dick thing to say. It’s not that I don’t—I mean, no. I don’t, okay? I’m not into you like that. Last night was stupid, I shouldn’t have done it. And I shouldn’t have done the other time, either. But you’re not… you’re way cooler than I thought you were. I don’t respect the whole costumed domestic terrorist thing, but you’re not, like, you know. Somebody could do worse than you.”

“Stop, I’m blushing.”

“This is so stupid,” Tash said, in such a way that all of her frustration was obviously aimed inwards. “I mean that you’re fine, okay? You’re fine and I don’t hate you and I’m not mad at you because we almost hooked up, I’m mad at me for getting drunk and spiraling when I cannot fucking afford to do that. Okay? It’s not you and I’m sorry for acting like it was.”

“So last night, when you told me that I ruined your life…?”

Tash rolled her eyes, hard, at this interruption of her devastatingly sincere apology. “Yeah, okay, that was also a shithead move. I ruined my own life. Happy?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s true,” Jessie said. Externally, she was casually spearing a strawberry on a fork to give it a nibble, totally at ease. Internally, she was poised on the edge of a tall, tall building getting ready to take a leap. To extend that metaphor, she was hoping to sprout wings on the way down, but there was an admittedly enormous chance that she would simply splatter on the sidewalk or get shot in the head instead. The move she was about to make was risky, and there would be absolutely no going back once she started, and if she was wrong then she was going to look like a huge asshole and Tash was probably never going to speak to her again.

And in the best case scenario, where she was right, she was also going to look like a huge asshole and, come to think of it, Tash might still never want to speak to her ever again. But she had to take the chance. She took a breath, toppled the first domino.

“It’s not really your fault, right? It’s Mothwoman.”

It was instantaneous: Tash, wide-eyed and bloodless, her little hands balled up into tight fists, staring at Jessie like a kicked dog winding up to bite. She hadn’t been at ease before, exactly, but she’d been relaxed enough, probably as calm as she ever got these days. God, it hurt to do that to her. Jessie inhaled through her nose, forcing her expression to stay extremely neutral.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tash demanded. “I don’t care how drunk I got, I know I didn’t tell you anything about the Moth.”

Jessie resisted the urge to roll out that old cliche, pointing out that someone had turned guesswork into certainty by the force of their own reaction. She was, admittedly, trying to break Tash a little bit, but falling back on cliches was a level of pettiness that felt excessive even to her. Restraining herself was a sign of respect for Tash, one villain to another.

Instead she was going to, respectfully, tear Tash’s entire life apart. 

“Listen,” Jessie said, her voice sliding ever so slightly towards the icy tones of Frostbite so as to convey that she was done playing. “I know what people think about me, but I’m not dumb. And I’m kind of obsessed with you, so when you talk I fucking listen. And even when you don’t, I’m paying attention. Alright? And here’s what I’ve got: you’re supposed to be back in Crown City going to grad school, not tending bar in a shithole like Polly’s, especially if you really do want to be done with the whole crime thing. And sidebar about that real quick: there’s no way. You were good. You were brilliant. And you goddamn loved doing it. I know you did, no matter what you say about it now. You don’t just walk away from a career like that unless something catastrophic happens to you.”

“It wasn’t a career,” Tash said. She was rigid now, voice a hoarse whisper. Once again her gaze was directed forcibly down, eyes locked on her own bruised knuckles. “I was running around playing dress-up like an idiot pretending that I was accomplishing something impressive, making any kind of real difference by stealing from people I didn’t like. You don’t know anything about it.”

“Wrong. I know exactly what it’s like. The rush when you realize that you can get away with anything, as long as you’re too cool to fuck with? That feeling when you always knew the world was a little bullshit and then it turns out, yeah, you were right? The walls are all just fucking cardboard and the rules are made of tissue paper and you can knock it all over like that if you want to, as long as you have the right attitude. How do you ever go back to being a normal person after that? You don’t. You can’t, unless you don’t have any other options. And how do you lose all your options?”

It was a good thing that rhetorical questions didn’t need answers, because there certainly wouldn’t be one forthcoming from Tash. She’d turned into a furious statue, shaking ever so slightly as her indignation boiled up inside of her. God, Jessie was a monster. She swallowed down hard on the guilt rising in her gorge, reminding herself that this would be best for both of them. She just needed to be able to make her case first.

“You get made,” she said, to Tash and her rapt imaginary audience. “Somebody figured out who you were under the cute little balaclava, so you had to run. Obviously it wasn’t the CCPD; they couldn’t catch you if their moms’ lives depended on it. Gotta be the Moth, right? She’s fast enough, that’s for damn sure. And if she caught your scent, that explains why you dropped out of school and decided to hide out somewhere like Rustbelt. You needed to be around other rogues, right? Seems counterintuitive, if you’re trying to lay low, but everyone knows that good bad guys don’t snitch. So you get to be safe hiding out with Maud, getting paid under the table and knowing that nobody’s going to call the cops even if they figure out who you are.”

Jessie paused here for dramatic effect, something she had learned with years of experience. People needed a moment to plead dramatically and shit themselves while they tried to convince you that they were wrong and you’d made up the whole thing, as if their overwrought reactions weren’t already confirming exactly what you’d said. Sometimes they’d try for defiant, crying or making a speech before ultimately admitting that you were right and they should do whatever the fuck you wanted.

It should have occurred to Jessie that Tash would be nothing like those goons. 

Sure, she was visibly having a terrible time. But she was also furious, and that was radiating off of her as she dragged her gaze up from the floor and straight to Jessie’s core, which she glared through with withering disdain. “Okay, BBC Sherlock. You got me. What the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

Jessie sipped her coffee to let the silence linger a little longer. Here was the thing: she was nearly half a foot taller than Tash and significantly heavier, and none of that would mean anything if it came to a fight. She’d seen Tash make mincemeat of Voltzz with no skin in the game; imagine what she’d do to Jessie if Jessie became a sufficient enough threat. Kind of hot as a hypothetical, but probably best to avoid making it a reality.

She put on her most inoffensive smile and hoped she wasn’t visibly sweating. “I want to offer you a job.”

“Declined and go fuck yourself,” Tash said immediately. “Thanks for breakfast, have a terrible day.” 

Fuck, she was heading for the door. Jessie rushed after her, heart racing.

“Wait wait wait! Listen to me for three seconds, okay? You need money, right? You’re sleeping on a couch, you’re ruining your back! You’re picking up extra shifts at the worst bar in the world! That fucking sucks, you’re better than that! We both know you’re better than this!”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“So work with me! I can protect you!”

“What?”

Got her.

“Ricochet can’t touch me. How do you think me and Sub-Zero get away with everything? We’re good, but nobody’s that good. If we didn’t have something on her, we’d have gotten thrown in the can by now like every other freak of the week.”

Tash considered that. “Honestly? I heard it was because your brother’s hooking up with her.”

“What? No! Ew! What? Why? Who told you that? I want names, I’m going to ice their tongues out. Jesus. He would never, he respects himself too much to even think about it. God. Never say that to me again. Ugh.” Jessie scrubbed at her eyes, like she could wipe that image clean out of her brain. She knew that there was a fandom for that, of course, but she avoided the corners of the internet where it flourished and blocked it out so thoroughly that it had been practically eradicated from her life. Christ. She shook her head, trying to refocus. “What was I even saying? Look, we have dirt on her. Jonas figured out her secret identity years ago, not because he was fucking her, and we’ve had an arrangement ever since.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jessie flashed her a wide, shit-eating grin, letting the cool facade finally slip a little. “She can’t ever take us in for good, or we’ll tell everyone who she is. She can try to stop us, sure, whatever, fair play; it would look bad if she never went after us at all. It’s like a game, right? Keepaway. She’s allowed to fuck with us, she can try to catch us and take back what we stole, that’s all in good fun. I mean, she hates it, but what’s she gonna do? We could ruin her entire life.”

There was Tash’s eye twitching again. “You have all that sway over her and you bargained with it? You should be having her transfer money straight into your fucking bank account! Why do you bother going through with all of this?”

“Because she’s flat fucking broke, for one. And this is more fun.” Jessie shrugged like it didn’t bother her, but the question didn’t hit quite right. Why did they do it that way? Even if Ric didn’t have a lot of cash herself, N.E.X.T. obviously did. It seemed like something Jonas should have thought of. But she kept up the smile for Tash, easy breezy. Her doubts were for her, not for other people to see. “But the most important thing is that she keeps this city locked down, alright? The director of N.E.X.T. gets really territorial about other heroes coming to Rustbelt, she doesn’t stand for that shit. Ricochet kicked Arrowhead’s ass all the way down Main Street last year when he started snooping around without her permission, it was crazy.”

“Who the fuck is Arrowhead?”

“Jesus Christ, how do you not know any of this? He’s that hotshot archery guy from out in Condor Cove, you must know him. The one with the sidekick who went off the rails and killed like three of their rogues, it was a whole thing.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Tash asked. “That thing you just said about people getting murdered, like it was a completely normal thing to say? That’s why I don’t want anything to do with this anymore. It’s not a fucking game!”

“Well, I’m not playing. I take it dead serious,” Jessie assured her. She’d had her little fangirl moment but she had to calm down, center herself again. Make the case. “But so does Ricochet, and she respects our agreement. She has for years. She’s not going to go back on it now, okay? I’m untouchable, so what do you think happens if you’re part of my crew?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Tash took a deep breath, rocking back on her heels as she weighed her options. “If I say yes, I’m not working for you, okay?”

“Oh, hell no. I’d never ask you to. It’ll be just like me and Sub-Zero, splitting everything 50/50. Partners.”

“And where is Sub-Zero in all of this?”

“Expanding our operation outside of the city. Why do you think I need some fresh blood around the joint?”

Tash squinted at that, like she smelled the bullshit and knew it. But that wasn’t her problem, was it? And she was too smart to ask questions that she didn’t want the answer to. 

“Whatever. I don’t care, as long as he’s not around and you don’t think you’re my boss. Even split from all our jobs, I’m not wearing a costume, and I leave as soon as I have what I need.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“I’m in debt. Like, unbelievable amounts of debt. I want to pay all of that off, clean my slate, and then go somewhere the people have never even heard of Night Noir. And then I’m going to disappear forever.”

“Sounds good to me, babe,” said Jessie, who thought that sounded fucking horrible, actually. She had, like, one fourth of a friend and even that friend was already trying to make plans to vanish off the face of the earth and never see her again. But it sounded like Tash was going to need a lot of money, right? That meant that Jessie would have time. All she needed to do was make sure that it was enough time to convince Tash to stay. She had a way of growing on people like mildew; she could make it work. She gave Tash another smile that was wide and benevolent, definitely not the face of a woman who was panicking, and held out her hand. “Shake on it?”

“Pass,” Tash said immediately. “But count me in, or whatever. As long as you can keep me safe, I’m there.”

Jessie said something, some vaguely cool bullshit like “Let’s go down to business” or maybe “Welcome aboard” if she was feeling a little piratical, but ultimately that part didn’t really matter. She was running on autopilot now, unable to even enjoy her success. The important thing was that she was lying through her teeth, and she knew that could only last for so long before she got caught. She was going to have to figure out Ricochet’s secret identity the hard way, and she was going to have to do it fucking fast. 

But how hard could it be, right? Jonas had done it, and Jessie was pretty sure she was at least five times as desperate as Jonas had ever been in his life. That had to count for something.

more of jessie lying wetly

chapter one

chapter two

cool art by @hamandeggbun

and brand new shiny chapter three. on god I am not allowed to post another one until I finish writing chapter ten.

The interior decor of One-Eyed Polly’s had changed precious little since the last time Jessie saw it, although the floors were a little more scratched up and the felt on the pool table had acquired some upsetting new stains. The only thing that had changed was the enormous NO SMOKING sign on the back wall, right where everyone could see it. 

The second she stepped inside of the bar the universe conspired to give her the entrance of a stranger blowing into town in an old Western, with the jukebox pausing between songs and conversation hitting a lull just as she stepped on a creaky floorboard, drawing all eyes to herself. She flashed an ice cold Frostbite smile, tossed her hair, and wished desperately that she’d worn her costume. It would make her look like a total douchebag, sure, but it would also remind everyone she was dangerous.  

Jessie strode back to the bar like it was a catwalk anyway, but the whispers and mutters that followed her were not promising.

“Still owes me twenty dollars.”

“Did I tell you she blocked me?”

“I thought she got arrested.”

“What did Sub-Zero say?”

Okay. Okay. Not awesome, but it was fine. They could say anything they wanted about her, but how many of these washouts and wannabes would actually try anything? None of them. They didn’t know that she was unarmed and floundering without her brother. She hadn’t worn her costume because she didn’t need to; her reputation was still strong enough to protect her. Not to mention she wanted all of these dweebs to see her wearing jeans that cost more than their mortgage payments and choke on the jealousy.

Maudie was behind the bar, grayer and butcher than ever. Her face was lined now, enough that it gave Jessie pause. Was her godmother getting old now? When did that happen?

Not that Maud was letting it soften her up at all. She raised a bushy brow at Jessie by way of greeting and launched right into putting her through the wringer. “Well, well. Look at that. A real-deal supervillain graces us with her presence. Thank you for deigning to descend from the gravy train, your highness.” 

“Aww, Maudie, come on. Don’t be like that, it’s my birthday.”

“As if I don’t know. Did you get your card?”

“Did you send one?”

Maud rolled her eyes, hard. “Of course I sent one. What kind of schmuck do you take me for?”

Of course she wouldn’t know; Jessie hadn’t checked her mailbox in at least a week. 

She realized, with despair, that there were tears crowding up around the edges of her eyes, little pinpricks begging to be let loose. When had she gotten so sappy? She wasn’t even most excited about the crisp fifty dollar bill that Maudie always tucked inside of her cards, although that was a relief. It was mostly that someone had even remembered she existed and wanted to do something nice for her that was really turning her into goo. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” she said, choking down her onslaught of emotions. Maudie would hate her making a scene like that; she never knew what to do when people cried. “But, hey, I’m not here to talk about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling alright?”

“The hell do you mean, do I feel alright?”

“Well, you always said that you’d only make people stop smoking in here over your dead body. And now nobody’s smoking, so I figure you must have gotten real close to having a dead body.”

Maudie snorted. “We had a scare last year. Doctor thought he had something, turned out not to be serious. But you know how the dames are. Next thing I know, nobody’s allowed to smoke in here and I’m getting yelled at if I don’t eat vegetables and go for a fuckin’ walking every morning.”

She shook her head, fondly exasperated. The dames were the two iron-tongued femmes Maudie had been in a relationship with for decades, largely considered to be the real masterminds behind One-Eyed Polly’s. According to Maudie, they only kept her around to look pretty and serve the drinks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie demanded. “We could have helped with the bills, or I could have brought over soup. Something.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, kid. Your brother made it pretty clear that you were busy.” And then, before Jessie could apologize or otherwise risk making things sentimental, Maudie cleared her throat sharply. “You want a drink, or what? First round’s free for the birthday girl.”

“Yeah? Let’s do a straight whiskey and a burger,” Jessie said, knowing damn well that she’d be drinking nothing but dirt cheap beer for the rest of the night. “Do the fries still come with that, or is it extra?”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I charge people extra for a side of fries. That shit comes with the burger,” Maud said gravely.

There were a lot of things that could stand to be improved about One-Eyed Polly’s, but the food was not one of them. So what if the fry cook telepathically talked with rats? He could work a grill. The basket that arrived in front of Jessie contained a beautifully constructed medium rare burger packing the exact correct amount of grease, surrounded by steak fries that had been seasoned to absolute perfection. Pardon Jessie while she drooled a little bit. 

“Hey, Maudie,” she said, half a burger later. “You still have Joney’s van?”

Her godmother raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, which for Maud was an expression of profound skepticism. “I’d love to know how the hell you think I could’ve lost it.”

“No no, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to see if I could grab it from you.”

“Can’t get your car back from Voltzz, huh?”

“Hmm?” Jessie asked, playing dumb.

“Do not try the bimbo act on me, Jessica Jolene. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“God. How did you even hear about that?”

“Are you kidding? I hear about everything in here. We had a bunch of schlubs in here doing shots at noon because they thought Ricochet dragged you off for good.”

“Okay, tacky.” Jessie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry despite an abundance of gloss. “Maudie, can I ask you a question? It seems like I’m maybe, um, not very popular around here.”

Maud stared her down with eyes like chisels. “That’s not a question.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, kiddo. They hate your guts.”

“Maudie!”

Jessie’s complaining was cut short by a sweaty, nervous-looking man appearing from the kitchen and hurrying to Maudie’s side. He shot Jessie a look that could really only be described as distrustful, then leaned in close to deliver his message to Maud. She shrugged him away almost before he finished speaking, peeved by his damp proximity.

“So get her shift covered. Why do you need my permission for that? Call Billy. Or, hell, see if Tash can make it in. She’s always dying for extra shifts. Tell Jordan I’ll come sort her out in a minute and then get your ass back out here to cover the bar. The dishes can wait.”

Maudie sighed and turned back to Jessie as her dishwasher departed, shaking her head. She suddenly looked about a hundred years old. “Kid, I miss the days when the worst I had to deal with was bartenders coming in drunk.”

“What happened?”

“One of my girls, Jordan. She’s got that fucking, what do they call it? Void pox? She kept going see-through when she came in but she swore she’d be fine. Except she’s not fine, she started getting these little cartoon demons popping out of her head. Pretty harmless, only about this big, but if I never have to kill another one with a broom it’ll be too soon. Anyway, I had her sitting down in the back, but now she’s starting to make things levitate and I can’t have that. I need to find her a ride home.”

“Could I come see her?” Jessie asked with, in hindsight, way too much enthusiasm.

Her godmother hit her with a look that was genuinely withering. “You can keep your ass right here and be nice to Nikesh while he tends the bar. And you can leave Jordan alone. It’s a 24-hour bug, she’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I know that!”

“So drop it, then! For once in your life, don’t get so pushy about this superhero shit.”

Maud ducked back into the kitchen on that deeply unencouraging note, sending poor Nikesh back out to hold down the bar in her stead. He studiously avoided Jessie’s gaze when she asked him how his night was going, spitting out single syllable answers until she gave up and asked for a hard cider, which he provided without once actually turning his face in her direction. Jessie dropped a five in the tip jar anyway, because she believed very firmly that you were supposed to tip generously unless the waiter had purposefully set you on fire and maybe even then. Running through the last of your money in the entire world was no excuse to be a lousy customer.

The problem being, of course, that she had hoped this would be a case of spending money to make money. She’d shell out a little for a night at One-Eyed Polly’s, reestablish herself as a villain of the people, and announce that she was hiring to thunderous applause. Henchpeople out the door, heaps of cash secured, the money that she’d pissed away on bottom shelf booze now a worthwhile investment. 

Unfortunately, all of that had depended on there being someone, anyone, left in town who didn’t hate her guts.

“Hey, Nikesh? Do you like working here?”

“It’s a living,” he said, still looking down. 

“If I offered to pay you, like, five times what you’re making right now, would you work for me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Ten times?” 

He actually looked at her for a fleeting second, his gaze touching off hers for just a moment. Jessie was vomitously aware that there was something that looked a lot like pity in his face. “Look, lady. It’s not about the money. It’s about not wanting to get my ass kicked.”

“Jesus Christ. Am I really that bad for business?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that why you won’t even look at me?”

“Yeah. You understand. Can’t look like we’re getting friendly.”

“Respect. You gotta look out for number one, Nikesh. I can throw a drink on you, if you want.”

“Yeah? That might be good, actually. We could make people think I said something really nasty to you. That could actually be great for my rep.”

Jessie groaned, resting her face in her hands. This was going to be an absolute non-starter. Polly’s was the biggest rat-hole in town; everyone knew that this was a place where people would turn a blind eye to almost anything. Everyone put aside their beef here, because the place would never function if they didn’t and no one wanted to be the asshole who ruined the only functioning villain bar in town. If a bartender was too scared to even look at her directly, Jessie’s reputation must be worse than dirt.

Why? Because of last night’s embarrassing little tantrum? Couldn’t be it. Nobody complained about the time Voltzz snorted bath salts and went on a rampage, or when Incinerator got drunk and started taking potshots at cop cars. Hell, if anything they’d both gotten more popular after that. Jonas might sneer at the lack of precision and control, but Jessie had tried to tell him a thousand times that people liked to see a supervillain go a little off the rails. It was aspirational, right? It let people imagine what they might do, if they had the power to really cut loose.

Why was she different? Sure, people hated to see a woman having fun, but that couldn’t possibly explain all of it. Maudie could probably explain it, whenever she finished mopping up the poor sap with the void pox. Maudie heard about everything. 

In the meantime, she might as well try to make the most of her evening. If she wasn’t going to be making new friends, she could at least have a little fun. Who cared about her bank account? If she was screwed, she might as well go out with a splash. 

“Nikesh? Open me up a tab. It’s my birthday and I want shots.”

***

Jessie Chilton was not a lightweight. Despite spending most of her early life watching her father get eaten alive by booze she had an exceedingly friendly relationship with alcohol, and could usually hold her drinks pretty well. Jonas had never touched the stuff, erring hard on the side of caution, but Jessie knew that she could stop any time she wanted.

Her miserable 26th birthday was not that time. That night she drank like the world was going to end, because it very possibly was. Her world, at least, and what else was she supposed to worry about? She knew damn well the scope of what she could be held responsible for, and presently it was mostly downing as much tequila as she could.

Which meant she ended up in the bathroom, eventually, because all of that liquid had to go somewhere, and in the time-honored tradition of wasted girls everywhere she got weird about it. While Jessie sat in the cramped and questionably-lit stall she started thinking about how she’d very nearly been born in this very room and what a miserably inauspicious start that was, and how perhaps she should have known that her life was always doomed to go down the toilet despite a decade or so of delusionally believing that she might be meant for something better. She wished that she had some friends to cry to, and briefly regretted the loss of Whirligig. Getting sloppy drunk and crying in club bathrooms together had been about the only thing that friendship was good for, but sometimes that was all she needed it to be. 

In the absence of anywhere else to turn Jessie called the person who had almost always been there for her, until he spectacularly wasn’t.

Hey, Joney. It’s your favorite sister. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Jessie, you’re my only sister, why are you doing exposition like a lunatic?’ Well, it’s because you haven’t been acting like I’m your favorite sister lately, or like you even know me, so I figured maybe you needed the reminder.

Did you even notice it’s my birthday? You’ve never forgotten it in my entire life. But you know who remembered? Uncle Ray. And Maud. And that’s fucking it. And Ricochet was soooOOOOOOoooo mean to me this morning. Like, you wouldn’t believe. She’s getting way too cocky, if you ask me. You should come back and kick her ass into orbit. Remind her who’s boss around here.

You should come back in general, actually. I miss you. But I’m also mad at you. It’s, like, a real dick move to take off and not even leave me with any money. I mean, I had money. Past-tense. But it’s gone now. I could have, like, I could have definitely spent it better. Smarter? I got these really stupid expensive boots with real crystals on them and then when I tried to return them they said I couldn’t because there was a scuff on the toe, which is like… whatever. I’m wearing them right now even though they’re way too fancy for Polly’s. Might as well get my money’s worth.

But I also just don’t have anything. Like, where’s the bank account? Where is the bank account, Jonas? I earned half that money, so why can’t I… I mean, you literally never told me how to get into it. To my money. Which I guess in hindsight was, like, I should have had a problem with that way sooner, but you made it sound extremely reasonable! And now I’m this close to Uncle Ray throwing me out on my ass, because I couldn’t pay the May rent and I can’t pay the June rent, either, at the rate things are going. I opened a tab at Polly’s and I don’t have enough to pay it, so now Maudie’s going to be mad at me, I think. I don’t know, I’m not even actually sure how a tab works. Isn't that stupid? I'm, like, so mad at myself lately got how much stuff I don't know.

Everybody’s mad at me.

And you won’t even call me back, and I can’t even afford toilet paper, so that’s, like, a lot. And I’m not handling it well. And I’m drank as a skank at Polly’s, in case you couldn’t tell, so go ahead and get your panties twisted up about that. I’m fucking spiraling, buddy. I’m in my fucking up era out here.

So. You should come home.

Or at least tell me where you are or what you’re doing or why you left, okay? Because I hate no knowing that. We’re supposed to tell each other things. And I’m scared about what’s going to happen if you’re gone much longer because, like, everything is going wrong. And I think you might have really left me screwed here, okay? Which is crazy, because it was supposed to be you and me against the world, but I’m not fucking seeing it right now. 

By this point Jessie was crying and snotting pretty hard, absorbed enough in her own agonies that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the bathroom until someone rapped lightly on the door of her stall and almost scared her shitless.

“Hey. You okay in there?”

It was not the voice of someone particularly warm and fuzzy or confident about checking in on a stranger, which actually made it a little sweeter that they’d bothered.

“I’m fine,” Jessie lied, wetly. “I’m just, like, I’m on the phone.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Whoever they were, they were sorely tempted to leave it at that and go back to minding their own business. Jessie could tell. Outside the stall, a pair of tennis shoes that had been worn damn near to dust rocked back and forth, weighing the options. “I just wanted to say that they’re not worth it. Whoever’s making you feel this bad, you shouldn't waste your time on them.”

“Okay,” Jessie said. And then, into the message she was still leaving for her brother: “I have to go, a nice girl in this bathroom says you’re not worth it. Please call me, love you, bye.”

“Great,” the stranger said dryly. “Crushed it.” Their beaten-in shoes scuffed away, back over to the sinks. Had Jessie missed an entire other person pissing next to her? God, that was embarrassing.

She wadded up some genuinely horrific single ply toilet paper and dabbed at her face, hoping she didn’t look too atrocious. All of her makeup was waterproof, which had to count for something. “Hey, thank you for that. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I was being so pathetic.”

“Whatever,” said the voice by the sinks. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve been there, I get it.”

Jessie’s heart was getting squeezed around like one of those awful tubes full of goo and glitter and little plastic animals, the kind that everyone used to make jerk off motions. Who was this? Would they still be so nice to her if they knew who she was? What were the odds she could salvage a single actual friend out of this wretched garbage fire of a day? It didn’t even have to be a lifelong bestie, just someone she could have a few drinks with. 

“My name is Jessie,” she said hesitantly.

She heard her new friend sigh. “I’m Tash.”

“Do you come here often? I’m not asking that in the pervert way, I’m just curious if you’re, like, a regular.”

“I work here,” Tash said, with as much contempt as anyone had ever had for their workplace.

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Sucks shit. But, you know. You do what you’ve got to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Are you okay in there? I’m gonna get my ass reamed if I let somebody drown in the toilet.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just, you know.” Which was a fucking nothing explanation, but Jessie’s voice was still damp and wavering enough that it presumably got the point across. “I need a moment to get it together.”

“I hear that,” Tash said. “I usually use the walk-in when I need a second.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not very big, but it’s quiet. And the cold kind of helps pull me together, I guess. Stay focused.” She cleared her throat again. “Sorry to dump that on you.”

“No, that’s okay. It makes sense,” said Jessie, noted cold enjoyer. “Do you keep anything fun in there? Maud’s never let me see it.”

“You know Maud?”

“Yeah, since I was a kid. Isn’t she the best?”

“She’s a real son of a bitch. But she's the only boss I’ve ever believed when she says she gives a shit about me, though.”

“Sounds like Maudie,” Jessie agreed fondly. “Anyway, what’s in the walk-in?”

“Fucking nothing exciting. Burger patties, mostly. I don’t know. Like I said, not a lot of room.”

“Plenty of room for you.”

“Yeah, every time I have a total breakdown at work.”

“Does that happen a lot? No judgment, obviously. Pot .”

“I don’t know.” Tash sighed. “More often than you’d hope. Which is never, obviously. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

“Your favorite color,” Jessie insisted. “I love asking people that. Nobody ever cares after you turn, like, twelve, right? But I care. And it’s a lot more chill than talking about, you know. Our favorite places to completely freak out in a shithole bar.”

“Okay. Sure,” Tash said. Everything about the strain in her voice suggested she was not naturally inclined towards whimsy, but at least she was making the effort to play along. “Will you assume I have clinical depression if I say gray?”

“Yes.”

“Well, joke’s on me, because I love gray and I do have clinical depression. But purple is also good. I like purple.”

“What shade? Eggplant? Periwinkle?”

“Just a nice, medium purple, I guess. Like, the platonic ideal of purple.”

Jessie had no idea what a platonic ideal was or why anyone would ever need to specify that they weren't trying to have sex with a color, but she was sitting on her stupid little toilet nodding like an idiot anyway because it felt so good to be making a connection with someone. “I dig that. Purple is good.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, cerulean for sure. With sparkles, ideally.”

“That’s blue, right?”

“Yeah. My jacket is actually, like, that exact color, I can show you.” Jessie sniffled tremendously, getting shakily to her feet and pleased to discover that she was feeling much more sober than when she’d wandered into the bathroom some time ago. And now look at her! Practically having a whole meet cute. What a turn around on the evening. “Okay, I’m coming out now. Don’t gag if my makeup’s a mess, I’m going to fix it.”

She tossed her hair and stepped out of the stall, at which point several things happened to her in rapid succession.

Tash was standing underneath one of the humming, flickering lights that barely managed to illuminate the dark cave of the ladies’ room. She struck a slim figure, drowning in a huge hoodie with two skinny black-clad legs sticking out like a cartoon character. She was wiping down the sinks but turned as Jessie emerged, the fuzzy light illuminating her from the back like a bargain bin halo.

The first thing Jessie noticed was that Tash was a lot shorter than she had been expecting.

The second was that Tash had beautiful eyes. 

The third was that those beautiful eyes and indeed her entire face were curdling up in horror as recognition set in.

“What the fuck,” she said. “Frostbite?”

The recognition and reaction alone weren’t surprising, given the colossal combined levels of notoriety and bad PR Jessie was currently enjoying. The part that nearly knocked her on her ass was that recognized Tash back.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, overjoyed and utterly failing to read the room. “Night Noir? Holy shit, girlie, I thought you were dead!”

[akkkkollle]

university au

dating an innocent chifuyu as a very sexual person but not wanting to push him so never actually doing anything

chifuyu, a sexually frustrated little boy thats too shy to speak up

anyway its the night before finals and we are cuddling in his dorm after talking and movie watching we fall asleep. a few hours later we awake too chifuyu rutting against our thigh in lingere hand over his mouth trying to be quiet. we punish him then make him see stars :))

other stuff: spanking, chifuyu being a slut for praise, overstim, nipple playy

feel free to remove or add anything :p

-🏃

Pairing: Chifuyu × M!Reader.

Genre: Smut, fluff.

Cw: praise, blowjob, lingerie, The reader is a pervert (but 2 phrases indicate this), Innocent!Chifuyu, riding on the hip, excessive excitement, spanking, kind of like dacrifilia (?).

-"At what point in my life did I realize that I loved him? "- you asked yourself, looking at the blond man out the window.

You've been dating for about six months, and what you so fiercely wanted was not there. You just wanted to fuck him, damn it. But no, you will not force him or even just talk about it until he is ready himself. You're just going to keep hiding that you're just a very experienced person.

-Yes, I haven't met people for as long as I have, and no one has resisted for so long … - you muttered, burying yourself in your notes, trying to prepare for the upcoming exam.

He was just an innocent boy. Even when you invited him to the cinema for a romantic movie, you understood it. He thought the 18+ restriction was only worth it because of maybe swearing or some kind of drama… But no. He blushed so furiously and buried his face in your shoulder, trying not to look at what was on the screen. You sighed again, remembering this moment, and closing the notebook, leaned back in your chair.

-No, I definitely won't give up if I think about it… - you said, looking in the mirror of your closet. - But I can't anymore, I want him…

But you already seem to have come to terms with this fact. That's why you called Matsuno to your place. A new episode of his favorite show came out the other day, so you invited him to watch, which he very willingly agreed to.

In the evening there is a knock on the door to your room, you go to open it and a guy literally falls on you. He giggles when he moves away from you and jumps on the bed where you have prepared everything. You just sigh, smiling lazily, and join him..

Several hours flew by unnoticed. The whole series, which lasted about 1 hour, he did not stop reasoning, so it took you a series… As much as 4 hours. You sighed when you saw how he fell asleep in your arms, so you turned off and put the laptop away, and he lay down and put it on his chest and fell asleep.

You slept so sweetly. But you were woken up by some movement on your hips. You swore that if Chifuyu came up with something about the series again-.Okay, you didn't expect that. You saw your usually timid and embarrassed boyfriend riding on your hip. He was sitting on it, moving his head back and forth, covering his mouth with his hand. His eyes are closed and his hands are shaking.

And what are you doing, kitten? you asked, making your boyfriend jump in surprise, but groan at the same moment.

-I-I don't know.. I just, well… Excited and .. - he starts muttering incoherent nonsense, however, as he always does when he is confused.

-I think I should punish you. - you say, grinning, making the boy squeeze your thigh harder.

He screams when you turn him over and put him on his stomach. And only now your eyes are clinging to the soft green underwear. You run your hand over the cool lace, making him whine. But then you shift his body to your lap, from which he throws a puzzled look at you. You just smile strangely, imperceptibly raising your hand over his ass and forcefully lowered it. Matsuno groaned and grabbed the sheets, almost tearing them apart.

You just tilted your head a little to the left and struck another blow, causing him to jerk wildly. Cold sweat trickled down his delicate skin, causing several strands of hair to stick to his forehead. His hips were shaking with excitement, while his hands were lying on your sheets. A small thread of saliva was flowing from his mouth. You raised your hand once more, pulling another moan out of him. You notice that he squeezes his hips and sort of jerks his hand towards his groin.

-"Is he holding back? How sweet. " - you think, taking him off your lap and putting him on his back.

His eyes focus on you looming over him. Your hand tightens the straps of the bra, forcing the flow of air to pass over the warm nipples, causing a soft moan. Your fingers rest on his buds, gently pulling them, forcing Chifuyu to grab your hands to slow down your movements. But no, you won't slow them down. You aggravate the situation by starting to pull his nipples, making him whimper from a mixture of pain and pleasure. A few tears roll off his face and fall on his collarbones.

-Hee hee, such a good boy. Wait a bit, pretty boy, okay? - he feels his dick twitching and nods at your words.

You smile as you pull down his panties. You make a path of kisses from his chest to his groin area. You blow on his dick, forcing him to tighten his hips and push them towards your face. You smile, but still take his head in your mouth, gently sucking it. His hands grab at his mouth, trying not to moan too much, but it doesn't help, so his hands come down on your hair, gently pulling it.

-You look so beautiful when I suck you off. he bites his lip, blushing even more. - Do you want to cum, huh?

He nods, lowering your head back onto his cock. You put your head down on his dick, falling in with his pubis. You are slightly choking from the fact that the penis hit you in the throat, but you continue to suck it off. Everyone seemed to hear his moans. He squeezes your hair harder and harder, lowering your head lower and lower.

-M-m/n! I'm about to cum, so—! - you slightly moved your head away from his dick, and he emptied into your mouth.

You release his cock with a loud pop. He looks at you while you swallow his cum, and then you lower your head back on his cock.

-M-m/n! I just came, w-wait… - he whispers, feeling your throat tighten around its base.

He looks down at you and he understands what you want. You just wink at him and smile as much as possible with dick in your mouth. He realized that this was really a punishment. Well, what wouldn't you do for the man you love, right? He'll cum as much as you want, and then maybe you'll fuck him. But that's another story. He will definitely see the stars, and this is the main thing.

[oh-austin]

no air (austin butler)

summary: in which ines is playing tennis and has an asthma attack, but her dad is there to save the day.

ask / prompt: Hi, I’d like to request a blurb I thought was cute. You mentioned how Ines has Asthma, could you do a fic where maybe she is out with Austin and has an asthma attack and he helps her? Please and thank you 💗

authors note / warnings: asthma attacks! more ines and austin content!! lets just imagine austin dressing Ines in her little tennis skirt with a cute polo top, I die. hope you guys like this one

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

Austin was a great husband, there was no denying that. He had been dedicated to Ines the moment she came into this world with her wide blue eyes and cupids bow that matched her fathers. He was obsessed with every little thing his daughter did and worshiped the ground that she walked on. Even now at six years old, Austin is still wrapped around her finger and you don't think it will ever change.

Austin was determined to bring you and Ines with him wherever he went. If he was filming, you were in his trailer waiting for him to get back. When he was doing press, you were sat with his manger behind the camera with the crew. Ines had always been a daddy's girl, so having Austin on call when she was becoming fussy was a lot easier for you. At times like these, when Austin was home, he was just a dad- not Austin Butler.

He always happened to fall straight back into the home routine very well. When you guys were home, Ines had school from eight till three and tennis practice on Tuesdays with games on Saturday mornings. You almost envied how easy he found being domestic. Austin was always up early, would have breakfast made when you came out of bed and fight with you over who was going to do the laundry that day. He was the paragon of a house husband, you loved it.

This morning was no different. It was a Saturday, so Austin was up at seven, getting you and Ines up at seven thirty and ready for tennis. Part of him always wanted to stay in bed with you, just for a little bit. So he could drink you in once more, he could never get enough of you. The love of his life, the mother of his child. You grew more beautiful to him with everyday.

He knew that he had to get up, but he wanted to let you sleep for a little longer. So Austin pushed the covers back and got out of bed. He trudged down the hall and into Ines' room. She had her nightlight on still from the night before, he switched it off as he walked past it. Crouching down next to Ines, he brushed loose strands of her from her face before kissing her forehead.

"Nezzie," He whispered, "Morning baby,". It was no secret in the Butler house that the one job you didn't want to get stuck with was waking Ines, her aunts, uncles and grandparents all knew it. Austin seemed to be the only one happy to do it. "You gotta get up sweet girl," Austin ran his fingers over her hair.

Ines slowly stirred and soon she was holding out her arms for Austin to hold her. Austin chuckled through a breath emitting from his nose. He cradled Ines in his arms as he got her tennis whites out of her cupboard.

"You ready for today, Nez?" Austin kissed his daughter's cheek. Ines nuzzled her head into Austin's neck as he opened her bedroom door again. The hallway was much brighter than she would've liked.

"Daddy," She finally sat up in Austin's arms so she could look at him, "My tummy hurts,"

Austin's face flashed with concern as Ines grumbled in his arms. He placed his hand on her forehead to feel for a fever. She felt fine which was good.

"Do you feel like you're going to throw up?" Austin pulled Ines a little closer to his chest.

"I don't know," She shrugged, leaning into her father's embrace.

Austin nodded whilst walking from the stairs into the kitchen, "Okay, well do you still want to go to tennis?" He scratched the back of her head, kissing Ines' hair.

"Mhmm," She nodded, "I want to go". Ines had been having tennis lessons since her fourth birthday and while she wasn't really 'playing' properly yet, over the last two years Austin didn't think she was too bad. You told him it's because he's her Dad. He is impressed when she sleeps.

"Okay," He put Ines up on the counter, "You gotta tell daddy if it gets worse okay?"

Ines nodded as she watched Austin get her breakfast ready. You were up soon after, walking into the kitchen to see Austin helping Ines pour milk over her cereal. "Good morning!" You smiled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"Morning mamas," Austin pulled you into his arms once you were close enough, holding you tight.

"G'morning mommy," Ines smiled, it not reaching her eyes as it usually would.

"You ready for today?" You asked, kissing her cheek.

"Her stomach is a little sore," Austin filled you in.

"You okay baby?" You rubbed your thumb over her cheek. She didn't look pale to you, she seemed fine.

"I'm okay" She nodded. Ines jumped down off the counter and moved to the table to eat her cereal.

"We're gonna see how we feel, aren't we Nez?" Austin leant back on the counter as he watched his daughter closely. The three of you ate breakfast together, Ines a little more quiet that usual. Austin chalked it up to her feeling sick.

"Can you please go get dressed?" Austin leant over the table towards Ines, she copied him lacing her hands as he did. "Your clothes are on your dresser" He told her with a smirk.

"Okay daddy, but can you help tie my shoes up?" She tilted her head, "I can't do the last tie".

"Of course I can," He stood up and kissed her head, "Now go get dressed please, we've gotta go soon". Ines nodded her head and pushed herself out of her chair. Her feet pattering up the staircase as she went up to her room.

"I love you, how did you sleep?" You turned to Austin, grabbing his hand.

He squeezed your hand before responding, "Very good, how'd you sleep mamas?" Placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Alright," You shrugged, "I missed you when I woke up though" A smirk found its way onto your lips.

"Had to get Nez up so you could sleep in," He leant forwards on the word 'you' and kissed your head after speaking. He got up from his spot at the table and took your bowls to the sink.

"You get sexier every time you say something like that, did you know that?" You craned your neck around so you could still see him.

"Oh yeah?" He smirked, rinsing your dishes.

"Yeah. Like extremely" You got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around Austin.

"Careful it's early" He turned his head slightly so he could see you. A smirk still played on his lips, a suggestive tone in his voice.

"We've got a tennis game to go to" You nodded with a sigh.

"And a six year old to look after," He agreed, his tone stayed the same.

"What's one more?" You squeezed him a little harder, nuzzling your head into a spot next to his shoulder blade.

He chuckled, "I can give you another if you want".

"Trust me, I know you can" You rested your chin on his back, kissing it.

"I'm ready!" Ines' voice broke the two of you apart and from your intimate moment.

"Good job Nez," You tried to slow down your breathing, put off by your daughter's interruption, "Put your stuff by the door please".

"It's there, I just need my racket" She held her hands behind her back, swaying on her feet.

"Have you got everything?" You asked her, your eyebrows raised.

"Daddy and I packed it last night!" She smiled.

"Mm, okay" You narrowed your gaze, "So Mommy doesn't need to check?".

"Nope!" She exclaimed, "Can I go watch Bluey now?" As she swayed, her head turned towards the living room, she had better things to be doing than standing here and chatting.

"Sure," You laughed, "You get two episodes before we go so make sure they're good ones" Before you could finish your sentence, Ines has already taken off.

"Okay!"

"They're all good and you know it" Austin pointed at you, putting the dishes in the drying rack.

"I'm not denying it" You defended yourself. As Ines watched her show, you and Austin were able to sneak a quick shower together and get ready for the day. Austin packed the car as you brushed Ines' hair up into a high ponytail, her curls bouncing in place once you finished.

Ines sang along to the songs you played in the car. Austin chuckled when she got the words wrong. Ines was playing one match this morning, against another little girl who she hadn't played before. She didn't seem too nervous, you and Austin both admired how younger children didn't feel much pressure on their shoulders. You hoped she would remain that careless as she grew.

"Morning, Miss Ines!" As Austin held Ines' hand, she jumped from the car. Her instructor was walking onto the courts, a smile on her face greeting the small girl.

"Hi Hallie," She gave her a big wave.

"Ines baby, take your racket please" You handed Ines the junior sized racket that sat in its black cover.

"You can go sit with the others okay? We'll start soon," Hallie kept walking as she spoke to Ines, "How are you both?" Hallie looked up to both you and Austin.

"Tired," He chuckled in response.

"It's too early to be up on a Saturday, but hey- I don't make the rules unfortunately," Hallie shrugged with a smile. Austin watched as Ines ran onto the courts to go sit with the other kids she trained with. Two other smaller girls hugged Ines hello before she sat with them.

Soon, the games had started. There were four games happening at once, each child's parent or parents watching from the sidelines.

"She's getting better," Austin smiled, watching Ines attempt a backhand return. She had been running all over the court, trying her best to send the ball back over the lowered net.

"We're gonna have a champion on our hands I think," You nodded, looking at your husband.

"You think so?" He smiled.

"She's gonna take the U.S Open by the time she's seven," You nodded, looking back at Ines.

"Definitely," Austin agreed, "She's gonna give Maria Sharapova a run for her money,"

"Oh yeah," You laughed. As the game continued and points were given, Ines started to quickly wear out.

"Does she look okay?" Austin couldn't pull his eyes off of his daughter.

"She's just tired I think," You weren't sure if you were trying to convince yourself of that, but she seemed more lethargic in her hits and serves.

"I don't know mamas, I think something's wrong" Austin sat up taller. Ines was coughing now and your heart began to race. She had been diagnosed with asthma in the months before. She had a tendency to keep quiet when she was struggling. Now, you and Austin watched her cough into the elbow of her cable-knit sweater and you knew that she needed to come off.

"Hallie can we just have a quick break, I think something is wrong with Nez," You called over, leaving the stands.

"Yeah course," She nodded, holding her hand in the air "Time please!". Ines looked confused when the timeout was called. You called out to her.

"Ines!" She came over to both you and Austin, "Are you okay?" You crouched down to her height.

"My-" She stopped talking to take a deep breath- "My tummy is sore". You could hear the mucus sitting on her lungs as she breathed. She was beginning to wheeze.

"Baby, can you breathe?" Austin put his hands on her upper arms.

"I think she's having an asthma attack" You looked over to Austin, "Do you have her inhaler?"

"It's in her bag," He nodded, going back to the stands and bringing her white duffle-bag over.

"Nez why didn't you tell us you were having trouble?" You brushed the hair from her face, "You should've stopped playing".

"But I wanted to play" The whistling noise continued as she tried to speak. Ines broke out into a cough, you rubbed her back.

"I can't find it" Austin ruffled through the bag.

"What do you mean you can't find it?" You quickly turned to him.

"I mean I can't find it, I swear I put it in here" He was starting to panic, now emptying the bag out onto the ground.

"Do you guys need me to call an ambulance?" Hallie already had her phone in hand. Other parents were starting to take notice of what was happening.

"Try and take big breaths Nez" You, at the same time, reminded yourself that you needed to breathe. You were getting panicked that you didn't have her medication.

"Wait I know I put it in here," The bag was now completely empty, Austin was looking in jacket pockets and throwing visors to the side trying to find her red inhaler.

"Mommy its hard" Ines was growing more tired, her breathing was shortening and she was struggling to take air in.

"Austin-" You turned to your husband once again.

"I can't find it Y/N" Austin was raising his voice now, his panic getting the better of him.

"Hallie can you please call-"

Austin cut you off, "Wait-". He got to his feet and sprinted off to the parking lot.

"Austin what are you doing?" You called after him, "You're doing so good" You looked back down at Ines.

"Do you need me to call?" Hallie checked, having 911 dialled in and ready to press call.

"I don't know what he's doing," You shook your head rapidly, "Nezzie, you're doing great baby"

"Don't call yet!" Austin's voice broke through your panic. He rushed back over to you and Ines, a red Accuhaler in hand.

"Oh my god," You let go of a sigh you didn't know you had been holding in.

"I got a spare for the car," He crouched down, "Here Nezzie," He helped her put it in her mouth. "Breathe this in as best you can," You and Austin watched in anticipation as Ines slowly breathed the medication in and out. She was slowly able to get more air in.

"Don't call yet," You looked up at Hallie who nodded, "We'll just wait to see how she goes,"

"Okay perfect," She stayed close, watching the small family.

"Two more Nez," Austin guided her through it. You felt so grateful for your husband. Even though he was unorganised sometimes, he somehow always had a backup plan.

"Here baby," You gave Ines her water bottle to rinse her mouth out afterwards. She still sounded like she was struggling, but she was getting the right amount of air into her lungs.

"You alright?" Austin cupped Ines' face, "Come sit baby. Austin helped Ines over to the stands and pulled her up onto his lap. "You're okay," He held her as tight as he could without restricting her breathing, "I love you, Nez" He kissed her head, "I'm so sorry".

The three of you sat for another thirty minutes, the games were now coming to an end. Other parents came over to check on Ines and see how she was. Ines was coughing still, but was breathing just fine.

"Nez, next time you feel that ache in your chest you need to stop playing, that's when you're gonna make yourself sick again," Austin took Ines off of his lap and sat her in the middle of him and you. "Do you remember what the doctor said to you?" He looked down at his daughter.

"Breathing can be harder," Ines said quietly. She felt guilty for causing such a fuss.

"Yeah baby," Austin nodded, "And playing tennis in the cold isn't going to help, so if you feel tighter in here-" He tapped a finger on her chest, "You need to tell someone"

"I'm sorry" Ines played with her fingers, not wanting to look up at either of you.

"Nezzie, don't be sorry," You whispered to her, leaning down so she could hear you better, "Mommy and Daddy just want you to be safe, we get real frightened when this stuff happens".

"You okay now?" Austin asked, always needing to double check.

"I'm okay" She nodded, looking from Austin to you.

"When your tummy was hurting this morning did it feel the same when you were playing?" You asked her. She nodded in response.

"Okay," You sighed, "You gotta try and tell us what kind of 'hurt' it is, okay?"

"Like if you feel like you're going to be sick or is it more in your chest?" Austin tried to explain, "That's what we gotta look for to keep you safe".

More people were starting to show up at the courts, adults coming in as the juniors were leaving. "Did you wanna stay and watch the older games?" You asked her.

"Can we go home?" Ines still fiddled with her fingers.

"Yeah baby, of course we can" Austin put her bag on his shoulder, all of the previously spilled contents were packed back inside.

Ines was quiet on the way home, not singing as she was earlier. When you were home, Ines didn't get changed out of her skirt, polo or sweater- just plopped herself down on the couch, her stuffed bunny in hand.

You and Austin watched Ines on the couch, you both could tell she was feeling bad about not speaking up. You didn't blame her, you couldn't. You whispered to Austin that you were going to make a start on lunch. Austin gave you a kiss before going and sitting next to his daughter.

"I love you Nez" Austin whispered. Ines looked up at him with wide eyes, a bright blue gaze that matched his own.

"I'm sorry I scared you daddy," She whispered in response. Ines leant into Austin's arm, pulling her bunny closer to her chest.

"C'mere" Austin picked her up and cuddled Ines closer to his chest. "Daddy should be sorry. I forgot your inhaler and I'm sorry," He made sure Ines was looking at him, she needed him to understand that it wasn't her fault, "I'm so sorry".

"It's okay" She put a hand on her dad's cheek, "Love you daddy"

Austin sighed, his heart swelled. He could've cried on the spot. "I love you more baby," He cradled her head in his arms, "So so much more"

[kadssp]

oh man first one in I'm so sorry for my dumb little brain,

so when I was younger and went into those McDonald's play places that were like kinda big I manged to like. get on the inside inside. sitting on the slide behind the plastic mesh wall inside, and being dumb and tiny I'd get scared as hell and be trapped there for like a good hour until I got noticed,

it might be funny if I may request a reader just getting stuck someplace in the daycare and literally sitting there until the pizza-plex closes and either sunny or moon find em yknow? silly times

note: nononoo i love this sunshine! so glad you requested<33

warnings: none !

reader is gender neutral !!

characters: moon

relationship can be platonic or romantic !

word count: 1k

Sticky Situation

Being adventurous usually never got you into good situations. In fact, it happened to always get you in trouble or spots you didn’t know how to get out of.

As curious as you were about certain spots in the playhouses, you really should’ve listened to advice from the daycare attendant and the kids who have faced the same fate as you did now.

Stuck between a plastic colorful playhouse wall and a mesh walling to keep kids out but not have them hurt themselves. You were in a pretty sticky situation and spot, curled up with your knees to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sighed.

The sound of the overhead speakers playing the daycare theme drowning out into a sort of background noise as you hummed along, swaying slightly as you waited. Waited for who? You weren’t quite sure yet.

You could try to get out, but you didn’t want to risk getting stuck again and in a harder area than before, at least you were somewhat comfortable where you sat now. You could only hope someone, anyone would find you.

You traced your fingers over the plastic walling of the playhouse you had actually fallen out of and what got you in this predicament. The big stars and smiley faces painted on the wall were shapes you ran your fingers over to keep yourself from getting any more bored as you waited helplessly, and then your breath hitched in your throat. Tensing up as the sound of the lights going out and generators powering off, the distant sound of bells jingling as he walked around and you could faintly hear a cackle from him.

Did he know you were here? Probably not, he was looking for any other kids who had yet to leave to go home for the day. So you released a breath and relaxed again, tracing where you thought the stars were on the walling but it was too dark to see.

”I can hear you.” He singsonged, giggling as he sprung up on a roof of one of the many play structures, looking around for where the noise came from.

You almost screamed when the structure you were just tracing your fingers along shook with the force of his landing, you could see the faint glow of his red eyes.

Now you didn’t know if it was best to wait it out or call for his help, he liked you but if he knew you were here during night time and not asleep, let alone stuck in a place you shouldn’t have even gone to in the first place, you didn’t know if he’d scold you for an hour or drag you out and make you sleep.

”You’re awful at hiding.” He sighs with annoyance, and you finally look up at the animatronic hanging above you staring down right into your eyes.

”I wasn’t hiding..” “Then what were you doing?” He’s quick to cut you off, hissing out his question before grumbling to himself as he lends a hand out to you.

Hesitantly you look up at his face and then back down at the hand, to which he grows impatient and growls, “Grab my hand. Hurry up, hurry up!”

He pulls you up out of the place you were trapped in, holding you securely against himself as he dropped to the ground in the open area of the daycare, where you should have been instead of some small crack between the structures.

You smile at him even though you can’t see anything but the glow of his red eyes as he mumbles under his breath.

“Thank you, Moony.” You giggle, playing with your fingers as you look up at the animatronic that towers over you.

”You’re welcome, Starlight.” He sighs, metal squeaking as his shoulders relax before he’s grabbing your wrist and dragging you off in a direction.

”Where are we going?“ “To the entrance of the daycare.” He sounds tired, done with your shit as he tugs you behind himself and his bells jingle with each quiet step he takes.

You don’t want to leave though, feeling much more comfortable staying here than going out there. It wouldn’t hurt to stay one night right?

”Moon, I don’t wanna go.” You dig your heels into the plush ground of the daycare but you’re still moving forward, sliding across the floor as he continues walking.

”Well, you’re going. Naughty people aren’t allowed in the daycare.” He pulls you forward and you stumble over your feet, the sound of the door being pushed open as light from outside leaks into the dark daycare.

You squint at the bright open room where the daycare theme plays loudly, benches pushed against walls where parents or guardians would sit while their children are in the daycare.

”Moon, don’t make me go home.” You plead, shoved outside of the dark daycare as he blocks the entrance, arms crossed as he stares down at you.

”And why is that? You were bad, you’re temporarily kicked out of the daycare.” He states, he deals with enough kids that do things to make his job harder, he’s not going to let you get away with it no matter how big of a soft spot he has for you.

“I wanted to stay though. I didn’t mean to fall back there..” You mumble, pouting as you look down at your feet and Moon sighs mentally cursing himself for caving as a hand comes up to his face and he fights back the urge to pull out hair if he had any.

”If you stay, you’re sleeping.” He hisses, leading you back into the room after you cheer for a moment and closing the door behind himself.

He had a feeling you’d find another way to get somewhere you weren’t allowed, especially when you mentioned grabbing blankets yourself in the complete darkness of the daycare.

He wouldn’t be too far behind though. He’s grabbed a pillow and is searching for you in the direction he saw you run down when he hears a thud and metal clinking, followed by a “Moon! Help— ow..”.

He’ll grumble to himself as he stomps over to where you are, but he can’t help the gentle touch he gives you as he lifts you up out of another tough spot again and checks for any injuries.

He cares about you, just don’t push his buttons again with your childish games.

[fexieyes]

It's not the right time (Fexi fanfic)

Summary: After watching Stand By Me, Fezco and Lexi got romantic and they didn’t just hold hands.They both nervously mentioned that they didn’t know what they were doing, that was their first time. But it felt fine and they didn’t say it out loud but they knew it was the best night of their lives.Now, in the present, they are both thinking about the same night. Now, in the present, they are both thinking about the same night. One of them it's in a deep sleep in a hospital bed, with several cops guarding the door, and the other one is in her best friend’s bathroom while she’s holding a pregnancy test. 

Chapter 1: the play

I take a deep breath as I look at the girl in the mirror. She's not okay. I mean, yes on the inside she's happy but on the outside, her face has bags under her eyes and nausea that didn't want to go away after her mother gave her a pill for it. Maybe she's a little high, what did her mother give to her?

I decide to blame it all on the play. I feel anxious and nervous and I only want to throw up but it’s gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay.

But there is something that I don't feel is right. A feeling that does not leave my body. I shake my head as I take a deep breath (again) I'm just being paranoid, the play opens today that's why I'm like this. And besides, I have to get my period, like... what day is it today? March 10th? It's March? Really?

When was the last time I had my period? Cassie was at home. We went to Walmart for pads and ice cream. That was like the end of January. I remember because it was a few days after I started texting Fezco regularly. We even had a conversation about it. I just said I felt sick and he casually asked if he was on "my lady day" which made me burst out laughing.

I should have had my period by now. But maybe I've been so nervous that's why I didn't get it, right?

Oh fuck.

I bit my lip covered in red lipstick. Obviously, all these things are because of the play. But I remember that rainy day in which I don't know how but Fezco and I did something that I haven't been able to say out loud yet. Something twists in my stomach while I try to remember if either of us in that moment of euphoria thought of some form of protection. It was each other's first time, and it was awesome. I've been thinking about that night for weeks and when I went home the next morning I had a text from Fezco.

Fezco

Was it all alright?

I was frozen when I read that message.

me

What do you mean?

Fezco

you know Lex... the stuff we did last night

did u enjoy it

I just giggled because I could imagine a nervous Fezco waiting for my answer.

me

It was the best night I've ever had.

Read the first episode here.

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      

Chapter 31 - Why are you in my kitchen?

Episode 1. *It was just before noon as Adrian woke, alone in his bed. Which wasn't and uncommon thing for him, but today it felt different. As if it somehow hit harder, felt heavier? He sighed deep as he turned to lay on his back, looking at the ceiling* Adrian: Christ! *he mumbled annoyed* it's gonna be one of those days, right?! *A scent of coffee suddenly caught his nose, he frowned questioning and sat up in the bed* Raven? *he spoke loud enough for anyone downstairs to be able to hear him. But as no answer came, he quickly got out of bed and climbed downstairs. The house seemed empty, and as his eyes focused on the kitchen, he was relieved to see there were still coffee on the coffee machine. He quickly walked over to it and grabbed a mug, then noticed a small note next to the coffee machine. He leaned over, pouring coffee in his mug, while reading the scribbled paper* 'Hey sleepyhead! I had to take of, family business. I hope your leg is better. You probably noticed the coffee by now, hope I made it strong enough for your taste. Take care! - Raven.'

Andy: Hey man! You're up! *he suddenly walked through the door, entering the house in a hurry, walking straight towards Adrian*

Adrian: *He quickly crumbled the paper note, throwing it somewhere on the kitchen floor* Andy? *he frowned soft*

Andy: Mmh *he grinned cheekily as he stopped in front of Adrian* do I get a kiss?

Adrian: *He sighed deep and leaned in, kissing Andy's lips lightly* Sorry, just woke up, haven't even sipped my coffee yet!

Andy: Sorry man! *He chuckled hoarse, then gently slapped Adrian's butt* I just came by to ask if you are busy today? I'm on my way to NY to see Willow, but once I get back, could be cool to hangout if you don't have any plans?

Adrian: *He sipped his coffee lightly, then shook his head* No plans. I gotta finish a car for a client, but that shouldn't take more than 30 minutes max... beside that I go nothing

Andy: Cool *he nodded satisfied* The stuff with Willow shouldn't take long... and hour... two max!

Adrian: *He nodded lightly*

Andy: *He squinted his eyes all of a sudden, then his face changed to a concerned frown* Dude what happened?! *he quickly reached forwards, brushing a couple of fingers over Adrian's thigh* Are you okay?

Adrian: *He looked down himself, seeing a large yellow and black bruise running down the side and mid of his thigh and past his knee. He grunted soft* As long as you don't push it, yeah!

Andy: Shit! *he quickly pulled his hand away* What happened?

Adrian: Too many beers... too many steps to climb.

Andy: *He frowned deep* I wish you would sleep on the couch instead!

Adrian: Well, I guess I have finally learned my lesson *he grunted unamused and sipped his coffee*

Andy: Should I call Rav

Adrian: No!

Andy: But

Adrian: Absolutely not! I gotta pee! *he quickly hurried past Andy, trying his best to escape the conversation, beside, he did actually have to pee, so it was a welcomed excuse*

Andy: *He sighed soft as he observed Adrian leave, then got distracted by Malia running around with a paper ball on the kitchen floor* What are you playi- a paper ball? Geez! *He quickly walked towards her* I'm not sure you are allowed to *he quickly bent down, picking up the paper, and was just about to throw it out, as he noticed some letters. Expecting it may be something important, he quickly opened the paper ball, reading the small note.... his eyes getting wide* Wtf?! *He couldn't help but chuckle surprised, and as Adrian walked back in the door, he quickly held the paper up so Adrian could see it* So Raven was already here?

Adrian: *He frowned deep and quickly walked to Andy, grabbing the paper, instantly throwing it in the garbage*

Andy: *He chuckled hoarse* He spent the night?

Adrian: Let's not get into that. Nothing happened. And you gaining amusement from it, doesn't make me any less-

Andy: Horny for Raven? *he grinned wide*

Adrian: *His only answer was a deep glare*

Andy: *Another hoarse chuckle escaped him* So what's going on with you two?

Adrian: Nothing, Andy! *He groaned irritated and walked towards his couch, sitting down, lighting a cig* apparently he hangs around sometime...

Andy: .... you mean stalking *his face only grew even more amused as he walked over to Adrian, looking down at him as he stopped next to the couch*

Adrian: I suppose *he grunted soft*

Andy: You know... he doesn't stalk people AND write them notes, going out of his way to "show he cares", unless-

Adrian: Don't. *He shook his head lightly*

Andy: *He snorted softly* I'm just saying

Adrian: Well don't, I said! *he glared lightly* I don't want to know. It doesn't concern me.

Andy: It kinda does though if he-

Adrian: *A low rumbling growl escaping him* Enough!

Andy: Geez! *He chuckled soft* lighten up!

Adrian: I'll lighten up when I see you later, right now I just want to be alone, please, my head...

Andy: Hangover?

Adrian: *He sighed deep* let's call it that.

Andy: You know who could cure tha-

Adrian: ANDY!

Andy: *He chuckled hoarsely* Fine fine! I'll see you later!

Adrian: *He stood up slowly, walking the 3 steps that separated them, then leaned in, kissing Andy lightly* I'm sorry I'm extra grumpy... I just woke up... it's not you

Andy: I know *he smiled soft and planted a tiny kiss on the tip of Adrian's nose* Don't worry about it, I'll see you later *he kissed Adrian again, then hurried out the door*

Adrian: *He sighed deep and sat back down, enjoying the rest of his coffee the way he liked it - peacefully. He then climbed back upstairs, got dressed, grabbed something quick to eat, then found his way to his garden, and started working on the car he had promised to have ready the same day. He worked about 20 minutes, when he heard the gate of his garden slam, expecting it to be Andy already* That was fast *he mumbled as he stood back up straight and turned around, his hand accidentally slipping, landing on the hot engine* MOTHERFUCKER!!!! *He yelled out in pain and jumped backwards, nearly stumbling over a couple of metal buckets as well, but managed to steady himself against an old tractor hood* FUCK!!! SHIT!!! *he looked at his burned hand, and was just about to yell further as suddenly someone stood next to him*

Dalton: Woah! Shit! Are you alright?! *he looked rather startled at Adrian*

Adrian: *He hissed sharply from pain* Fuck!

Dalton: Can I help?

Adrian: No *he frowned deep and quickly turned towards his house, rushing inside, and quickly opened his freezer, sticking his whole hand inside*

Dalton: *It didn't take many second before the man stood next to Adrian, looking at him with a concerned frown* are you alright?

Adrian: *He grunted soft* No... yes... *another painful hiss* I've had worse! ...... who are you anyway?

Dalton: Dalton? *he tilted his head lightly* Andy's friend... we've met

Adrian: Oh yeah *he mumbled soft* and why are you... in my kitchen?

Dalton: Uhm... I have a problem with my bike chain... it fell off on the road not to too far from here... I was just around, taking a closer look at the island and well... I tried to fix it myself, but I can't and since you're a mechanic, I thought maybe you could-

Adrian: *He frowned a bit deeper and sighed* Yeah sure... *he quickly grabbed a bag of frozen peas* Let's go have a look at it. *He quickly kicked the fridge door closed, and forced a friendly smile, gesturing at his door* After you! *Outside in the garden, he kneeled down next to Dalton's bike, quickly and unbothered popping the chain back on* There.

Dalton: Thank you man, what do I owe you?

Adrian: Nutin *he mumbled soft*

Dalton: No come on, I can pay, how much do you-

Adrian: I can't charge for something that took seconds *he shook his head lightly* get out of here

Dalton: Uhm *he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, wondering if he had said or done something wrong*

Adrian: *He sighed soft* I'm... sorry.... I'm not the most friendly person, and I generally don't care much for people showing up unannounced *he was surprised as he heard the apology heading out of his mouth, frowning softly*

Dalton: Oh, I didn't meant to intrude, I just thought since you-

Adrian: H-how about a beer? *he forced a soft smile, then frowned again, even more surprised and now add to that confusion as well, why WAS he inviting Dalton for a beer?!*

Dalton: Sure *he nodded lightly and smiled optimistic* I could drink a beer!

Adrian: ...... *well fuck* .... okay... *he nodded back at the front door again* Let's head back inside... it's too cold out here to stand around drinking beers! Make yourself at home *the words flew effortlessly from his lips as he closed the door behind them inside. He shook his head lightly, not being able to understand why he was being so friendly towards his by now guest??? He quickly walked to the fridge, throwing the peas back into the freezer and grabbed two beers instead, spinning around quickly as he suddenly heard Dalton starting to sing and play*

Dalton: *He sat on the couch already, and had apparently spotted Adrian's guitar, now sitting with it on his lap, making himself at home, as Adrian had invited him to*

Adrian: *He froze on the spot for a moment, trying to process the emotions he was suddenly hit with. A feeling of a strong, deep, intense, pure connection with Dalton. A connection that could only mean one thing. He swallowed hard. Last time he had felt this connection with someone, it hadn't exactly ended well, yet, the strong pleasant sensations that was fluttering through his body, made him unable to think clear enough to panic about it. He slowly walked closer, observing Dalton carefully as he sat down on the couch next to him, placing one of the beers in front of him*

Dalton: *He chuckled lightly and stopped playing, placing the guitar next to him on the floor, where he had picked it up from* Thanks! *he quickly grabbed the beer and sipped it* It's a nice guitar, you play?

Adrian: *He nodded lightly* Nowhere as good as you, I'm sure, but I do alright *a more genuine smile tucked at his lips, then he quickly sipped his beer* so did you find anything interesting?

Dalton: Interesting? *he looked at Adrian slightly confused*

Adrian: Yeah... on your ride?

Dalton: Oh! *He chuckled lightly, and appreciated the fact that Adrian asked. Apart from Malou and Andy, no one had cared to ask about his day for years! And now Adrian too. It was a gesture that really meant a lot to Dalton, and made him feel cared for. Important again.* Lots of amazing nature... I think I could be pretty happy around here... if it wasn't for the loneliness *he spoke in a slightly lowered voice, a light frown accompanying the tone*

Adrian: You too? *it burst out of him*

Dalton: Yeah *he sighed soft, then sipped his beer* I take it you too then?

Adrian: *He nodded lightly* from time to time.

Dalton: How's your hand? *he nodded towards Adrian* it looked insane! *he chuckled lightly*

Adrian: Eh *he shrugged lightly and looked at his hands, the fresh burn luckily so far being nothing more than red skin. He held the other hand towards Dalton, showing a large scar going from his thumb over a part of the back of his hand* I'm used to it by now. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, but I'm used to it. It comes with the job.

Dalton: *He nodded lightly* I like your rune tattoos!

Adrian: Thank you *he sighed lightly, then quickly pulled his hand away, not in the mood to get into a deeper conversation about his runes and what they meant to him. Them all being runes that seals him up as a demon portal/vessel. Protective runes.*

Dalton: So you live alone here?

Adrian: Pretty much. I have my cats.

Dalton: Oh! *he seemed surprisingly excited about the new info and looked around curiously*

Adrian: *He observed the boy closely, trying to study him as much as possible, cause if what he felt was real, he better figure Dalton out as fast as possible!* Yeah they are probably out right now, they usually are this time of day, chasing mice, butterflies, bugs, whatever the season allows them to hunt.

Dalton: *He nodded soft and turned back to Adrian with a soft smile* They? So you have-

Adrian: 2... Bobby and Malia

Dalton: *He nodded again, then sipped his beer* I have one, Banana.

Adrian: *He couldn't help but snort amused* You have one banana or one cat named Banana?

Dalton: *A light chuckle escaped him* Yeah, it's a funny name, I know, but it was the first that came to my mind, and it just stuck. I liked how random it was, and at first it was just supposed to work as a nickname till I would find a more suitable name, but that just never happened *he shrugged lightly* So how do you make a living as a mechanic when there aren't many cars on the islands?

Adrian: Well there's cabs too... just because most of the residents don't have cars, doesn't mean there's no job for me. Besides *he took a quick sip of his beer, then lit a cig, speaking as he blew out the smoke* it's 'Blackwood Salvage' not 'Blackwood Garage'.

Dalton:.... meaning?

Adrian: I salvage all kinds of things... such as drift wood, old rusty garbage other people can't use, I salvage rundown houses, turning the leftovers into new things. *He pointed towards some old pipes partially covering one of his windows, plants sticking out of holes here and there* I made that... as an example. I needed a place to put any plant parts I cut of other plants, and I didn't want to have my kitchen table full of tiny glasses of baby plants while they grow big enough to pot. *He shrugged lightly* So I took a look at what materials I had laying around, and found a bunch of stumpy old pipes that were too short to use for anything else. I welded it all together, and here we are, works like a charm, and brings some life to the house as well *a warm smile spread on his face the more he talked about stuff that made his soul happy*

Dalton: *He noticed. The grumpy man that had been sitting in front of him, was coming to life, and something made him genuinely and very strongly enjoy seeing him like this. Like an old friend suddenly finding happiness after a great deal of sadness. And it made him want to make Adrian happy more often.* So creating stuff with your hands, is what makes you happy... specially when it involves turning trash into gold?

Adrian: *He chuckled soft* I wouldn't call it gold, but usable trash for sure, maybe even pretty trash?

Dalton: Don't be so modest *he smiled warmly* you're really good with your hands... when you don't burn them *he chuckled soft*

Adrian: Yeah *he chuckled as well taking a drag from his cig* Oh *he grabbed his cig pack and reached it towards Dalton* Do you smoke?

Dalton: ..... well... yes and no. I suppose I do, but not on an everyday basis *he reached for the pack, grabbing a cig, then grabbed Adrian's lighter from the table and lit it* Thank you *he spoke as he blew the smoke out, then sipped his beer* I couldn't help but notice your record collection *he nodded backwards towards the corner of the room that Adrian had reserved as his music corner*

Adrian: *He nodded confirming* You can go have a look, if you want... *It was so unlike him to be so friendly and inviting, but it came rather natural with Dalton, although he also realized how odd a feeling it was, which then made him question why... which then startled him and almost made him pull back into himself... but something kept him going... a want to get closer to the boy... a strong and deep rooted need....*

Dalton: *He smiled excited and quickly got up, walking fast towards the records, excited to skip through some of them* Man...you got really good taste! You even have some rare editions!

Adrian: *He smiled soft as he observed Dalton, feeling so very drawn towards him*

Dalton: Hey man we should get together one day, have some beer and food, and listen to some of these!

Adrian: *He nodded eagerly as Dalton looked back at him, and was just about to suggest they would just do it today, when suddenly the front door opened, and Andy stepped in*

Andy: Hey man I'm done with Wil *he paused as he noticed Dalton, his cheeks instantly growing a pretty pink blush* D-Dalton? *He looked confused back at Adrian on the couch*

Dalton: Andy! *his face lit up as he saw the blue haired boy and quickly stood up straight* nice to see you!

Andy: *He shook his head lightly and looked back at Dalton with a soft, sorta nervous smile, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly* Yeah, nice to see you too... what brings you here anyway?

Dalton: *He shrugged on just one shoulder* bike trouble... Adrian was kind enough to fix it, even after burning his hand

Andy: *He frowned questioning and looked at Adrian* Omg! *he hurried towards him in big steps and sat down on he couch, grabbing for Adrian's hands* Is it bad?! Where is it?!?

Adrian: S'fine *he grunted soft and showed Andy the spot he had burned, to his surprise noticing fresh blisters appearing on his hand*

Andy: That's not fine at all Adrian! *he frowned back at him*

Adrian: It's just a couple blisters *he sighed softly and took a drag of his cig, then killing it in the ashtray*

Dalton: May I see? *he looked at the two of them with a concerned frown*

Adrian: S'fine! I've had worse!

Dalton: *He spontaneously leaned over the back of the couch and grabbed Adrian's hand, gently studying it with a soft frown* You need more ice on it!

Andy: Yeah or some healing ointment! *he squinted his eyes at Adrian, naturally meaning Raven*

Adrian: It's fine! Geez! Will the two of you relax? I have healed from far worse than this! *He looked at the two of them, blushing slightly as he noticed Dalton was still holding his hand* I uh...

Raven: What's going on?

Dalton: Jesus! *he quickly let go of Adrian's hand, flinching a little as Raven suddenly stood next to him*

Raven: *He snorted lightly* Not quite.

Dalton: *He frowned lightly as he looked at Raven, but then got the joke, snorting amused*

Raven: *He grinned wide as he observed Dalton, finding him utterly charming and interesting*

Andy: *He frowned deep as he observed Raven, he knew that particular grin all too well. Raven liked Dalton, and was already seeing him as "dinner".... not literally!* HEY! *He punched Raven's upper arm firmly* Can you concentrate for a second?!!

Raven: Hm? *he looked back at Andy, then at Adrian's hand, instantly grabbing his wrist* Yes, we need ice.

Andy: *He cleared his throat* Or maybe you just take care of it?

Adrian: No! *He quickly pulled his hand back* I'm sorry, but there's too many people fixating on my hand right now! I have a freezer full of frozen shit and a more than capable aloe gel in my bathroom! I'll take care of it myself! *he frowned soft*

Dalton: *He smiled soft as he observed the group of people, then recalled Malou talking about the fact that Adrian disliked crowded places, specially if his house would turn crowded* Yeah I should be going anyway *he smiled soft at Adrian in particular* Malou is probably waiting anyway, we were supposed to start working about an hour ago, so I better head home. Thank you for fixing the bike though... and for the beer and cigarette.

Adrian: *He nodded soft, a light frowning- 'I don't want Dalton to leave yet' -situation settled on his forehead* Sure... get home safe. *he cringed as he said it, specially because the other two immediately looked at him with questioning frowns*

Dalton: Thank you, I'll let myself out *he smiled warmly at Adrian, then the other two* Andy, call me... we'll do something one day soon! *he said in an upbeat tone as he passed by the others on his way toward the door*

Andy: Yeah! Sure! *he answered a little too excited, and cringed as he watched Dalton step out of the house, closing the door behind him*

[lilchibi-chan]

Hi! This is a really specific request, but could you write a headcanon about Tsuki being a detective and having a love-hate relationship with his partner (reader)? Thank you🧡

Of course ☺️ Sorry this took so long to come out btw. I really wanted to come up with something good, so I hope you enjoy 💖

Detective Tsukishima x Reader

You and Tsuki have been partners for a little over a year now and you have grown as friends. He does have his moments where you just wanna hit him over the head and knock the smug look off his face, but you wouldn’t change anything about him. He’s a good cop and even better partner despite his flaws as a person. You know that it’s all a cover up for his true emotions, but you don’t push him to talk if he doesn’t want to. You allow him to open up on his own which he quite likes.

He likes to tease you every now and then because this man is a giant. He’ll call you pipsqueak, short stack and the classic shorty and short stuff. He’ll even do the cliche arm on the head thing to use you as an arm rest.

‘Stupid Bean Pole’ is all you think when things like this happen and you sucker punch him in his stomach, pinch his armpit or just wait to get him when he’s not expecting it.

You and Tsuki are currently working a case where you have to stake out a person of interest’s residence. Watching when they leave, return and if there’s any strange behaviors or if the person you’re actually looking for contacts them/goes by their place of living.

It was pretty late and you could tell Tsuki was getting tired.

“Hey Tsuki, why don’t you take a nap? I’m wide awake, so I can keep watch. If I feel tired I’ll just wake you up,” you say, smiling softly

He didn’t have the energy to fight with you, so he just nodded his head and slouched into the seat of the car.

A few hours pass and nothing happens. That was how it was for the past few nights, you had been on watch together.

You glance over at Tsukishima and can’t help but notice how peaceful he looks. This causes a small laugh to escape your mouth.

As you continue to admire his features, you actually acknowledge how handsome he is when he’s not trying to pick a fight with you or when he’s a cocky bastard.

Tsuki stirs a little in his sleep, snapping you out of your trance.

‘So cute,” you think to yourself and start smiling

He started to mumble something in his sleep and you were shocked to hear what he said.

“Y/N,” he says in a sleepy voice

‘He’s dreaming about me?!’ you think to yourself

He starts smiling and you smile as well.

“It must be something pleasant if he’s smiling so hard,” you accidentally say out loud, then covering your mouth hoping you didn’t wake him

You look over at him and he’s still in a deep sleep.

Ten minutes later he wakes up and looks over at you.

“Good morning sunshine,” you say in a soft voice

He smiles and lets out a small laugh

“Morning” he says groggily

It’s quiet again and your brain keeps running wild with the thought of what his dream was about.

“H-hey Tsuki,” you say nervously

“Hm,” he says in response, while eyeing the house

“What-What were you dreaming about? Y-you said my name softly, b-but I still heard you say it a-and you were smiling, sort of?”

He senses how anxious you are and decides he wants to have a little fun.

“Well Y/N, if you must know,” he says closing the space between you,“I dreamt that you and I...went on a date,” he says smirking

A blush forms on your cheeks and your ears get hot. Secretly, you have feelings for Tsuki and you wanna tell him, but you feel like he would probably laugh in your face or call you names.

“R-really?” You ask, struggling to speak because the very little space that he’s put between the both of you

“Yeah and it was quite pleasant. You were actually... tolerable,” he says causing you to roll your eyes

You lightly push him

“Same old Tsuki” you say, obviously annoyed

“What? You wanna make it a reality or something,” he says eyeing you

“N-no,” you say with shakiness in your voice

He gets close to you again

“You sure about that, pipsqueak”

“Tsuki, I swear to god if you’re playi-“

“Oh, I’m seriously asking little one. Do you want to make the date a reality,” he asks, an eyebrow slightly raised

“I-I w-wouldn’t b-be opposed,” you say, twittling your fingers

“Stop fidgeting,” he says grabbing your hands

“Listen pipsqueak, I wouldn’t mess with you so much if I didn’t find you incredibly cute when you’re upset and when you fight back, it’s hot. I like that about you. You don’t back down, even if I am out of your reach,” he says with a laugh

You punch his arm

“Ouch, little one. Maybe I take asking you out back,” he says rubbing his arm

“N-no,” you say almost sad

He smiles

“Don’t worry,” he says rubbing your head,“I like more than to just cancel cause you hit me. I suffered worse bruises practicing for volleyball matches”

You turn to face the house and bite your lip

“Yes” you say after a while

“Huh,” he asks slightly confused

“Yes. I want to make the date a reality”

“Okay then,” he says smiling,“I’ll pick you up around 7:30 on Saturday night. Dress casual, but nice”

“Okay,” you say softly and smile to yourself

The rest of the night, it’s quiet. It’s a comfortable silence and you don’t mind spending it with Tsuki. Even if he does get in your nerves and know what buttons to push.

You couldn’t ask for a better partner and you don’t want another. People may think your partner dynamic is weird, but it works for you guys and that’s all that matters.

I hope you enjoyed the headcanon and again I’m super sorry about how late it is!! 😣😣

[fictionwordcounts]

The Accident (Prologue)

Chapter 1 in my Bucky Barnes fanfiction "Runaways"

Word Count: 1000+

Hannah hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt. She hadn't meant to use her new ability at all, but it was uncontrollable. Now she was trapped in her mess, along with who knew who else. Her best friend, Patricia, had been right next to her, but where was she now? Her breathing became shallow, as she thought about what might have happened to her. In a panic, Hannah dragged herself out from under the collapsed tent.

After she broke free, she took a gulp of air but regretted it immediately. She coughed as the smoke filled her lungs. Smoke. Where there's smoke, there's fire, and sure enough, she could see the orange light flickering directly in front of her.

It hadn't taken long for the authorities to arrive. Headlights pierced through the darkness that the fire hadn't consumed already. Hannah looked at the tent that she had turned into kindling, and she did the one thing that was going through her mind. She ran. The ground was wet, from the rain that had fallen the day before, and the mud clung to her shoes as she stumbled in the dark. She had to find her friend.

"Stop!" a commanding voice sounded from behind her. She froze, her hands automatically rising towards the sky.

"Turn around," the voice continued. Hannah couldn't see a way out. No doubt, he had a gun trained on her, and there was nothing but an open field for miles. She slowly turned around, her heart pounding in her ears. As suspected, there was a man in uniform with a gun pointed straight at her. A few other agents swarmed in around their comrade. Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw her. Her friend. She was walking past the guards and looking at Hannah with panic written on her face. When Hannah made eye contact she looked away.

"Trish," She whispered to her friend. "You can't leave me here."

Patrica shook her head and continued toward her car without looking at her. "Get some help, Hannah."

Hannah couldn't catch her breath. Nobody seemed to realize that she was just as scared as the rest of them. She didn't know what she had done, and she never wanted to do it again. She just wanted to go home.

A tear ran down her cheek as she refocused her attention to the agents in front of her. They suddenly parted to let another man through, but this man wasn't in gear like the rest of them. This man wore a suit and tie, and sunglasses covered his face despite it being night. He walked right up to Hannah and removed the glasses.

"I'm agent Phil Coulson with SHIELD," he said. "Do you have a moment to answer some questions?"

Hannah knew he wasn't asking, but since he had, why couldn't she say no? What right would he have to arrest her for something he didn't know she had done? However, whether it was the guns pointed at her head, or the absence of a better option, she nodded.

The man smiled. "Thank you. If you would just follow me." Without checking to see if she had moved, he turned and headed back through the way he had come. She followed his path, avoiding the eyes of the agents around her. Agent Coulson led her to a van that had the logo of SHIELD painted on the side. He opened the trunk of the vehicle and sat down on the ledge. He gestured for her to sit down as well, and reluctantly she did.

"I don't know what you think I did--" Hannah started.

"Nobody said you did anything," he interrupted. "We just want to know what you saw."

Hannah could see that he knew what she had done. He was just trying to get her to trust him. "I didn't see anything," she lied anyway. "My friend and I were just going through the haunted house, and the tent collapsed on us."

"Where is your friend?" he questioned.

"She went home," Hannah responded quietly.

"We heard that the incident might have been caused by a powered individual," the man stated. "Did you see anyone like that?"

He had said it to get a reaction. Hannah saw right through his act. He knew that she had made the tent collapse, and he knew how she did it. Why was he playing dumb?

"I didn't see anyone," she lied again. "Can I go home to my family, please?"

"Well there's just one problem," he explained. "Your family died a long time ago, and you've been staying with your friend ever since. You said your friend left. Want to tell me why?"

"It's none of my business, and it certainly isn't yours," Hannah retorted. "If you know so much about me, then you know that I don't have powers."

"That's the thing," he countered "You keep insisting you don't have powers, but no one ever said you did."

Stop talking! The voice inside Hannah's head did nothing for her. She was digging a hole for herself. She was too flustered and fatigued to think before talking, and it was backfiring immensely.

"Maybe I'm just scared of guns you've had pointed at me the second I moved," Hannah pointed out.

"I don't like to use guns." It was the most sincere thing Hannah had heard him say yet. "Those are non-lethals, but they're still only for emergencies. Right now there are other people on their way to pick you up, and I promise you, their guns will kill. But, if you agree to come with us, we'll protect you."

"Yeah," Hannah scoffed. "Just hop in the back of a van, with a bunch of bad men in the middle of the night."

"SHIELD is there to protect people like you," he said. "I promise, we are the good guys."

"It's kind of hard to believe when all I can see is the barrel of your gun," Hannah snapped.

As Agent Coulson continued to explain, a thought formed in Hannah's mind. She knew she should push it away. It was ridiculous and dangerous, but she thought just maybe she could pull it off. She hadn't noticed it at first but the car she was sitting on, was vibrating and humming. The engine was running. There was someone in the driver's seat, but how big of a hurdle was that? If the guns weren't lethal, then what was stopping her from using them herself? Her thoughts were spinning at a hundred miles per hour, and she hadn't realized she had decided to do it until she already grabbed the lid of the trunk.

There was a handle that allowed her to pull the trunk closed while still inside, and she was going to use it to her advantage. She pushed Agent Coulson out of the way and slammed the trunk closed. She didn't have much time before the poor man recovered after his fall, so she stumbled to the driver's seat.

The man sitting there had already pulled a gun on her, but that was what she was hoping for. Because of the strange angle of his outstretched arm, it was easy to knock the gun from his hand. Hannah quickly grabbed it, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The man crumpled in the driver's seat. For a moment she thought that she had killed him, but he was breathing. Everything had happened so fast, that she didn't notice Agent Coulson opening the trunk. Without thinking, Hannah pushed a button and flicked a switch, and the door was closed and locked. She stared at the unconscious man taking up the driver's seat. The only solution she had was to quickly open the door, push him out, and take his place.

She put the car in gear and slammed on the gas. The wheels turned in the mud for a moment - spraying everyone behind them in filth no doubt - but then took off.

It was only when she made it to the road that she realized how undeveloped her plan was. For all she knew, they had tracking devices in every vehicle, and she was only making it easier to find her. She sped up anyway. As long as she could put some distance between her and the agents she would have time to think something up.