#also FUCKING TACO SHIMMER??? WHY WAS SHE THERE

[bubblingdrfizz]

I'M DONE FOR I CAN'T ESCAPE THE II SPOILERS EVEN MY DREAMS GAVE ME SPOILERS FOR THE II2 FINALE.

[sour-screaminginagony]

GUYS II AU MAYBE???

UHH SO BASICALLY YEAH WHICH DRESS SUITS MIC BETTER? I'M THINKING PURPLE LMAO!! I JUST REALISED I MISSPELLED 'KYOKO' AND FUCKING WROTE 'KYOKA' SCREAMING 'why is Test Tube Sayaka and Fan Kyoko?' I dunno. why not. Lets just say uhhh Test Tube thought that Fan was far too 'immature' for the job and he obviously felt offended., also Fan always knew about Magical girls (Magical Objects?) and had always wanted to know more abt them + be one. How'd he know? I dunno. This is for fun, I'm not think all too much. I haven't watched madoka magica in awhile sorry!! Kyubi is MePhone4 because I said so!! KyuPhone4!!! Permenate bfdi smile like how Kyubi is always doing that :3 face!! A high tech robot thing that can regenerate itself because I said so!! also the uhh the green haired girl? The one friends w/ Sayaka and Madoka? Soap. 'Why is she Soap?' BRO IDK LEAVE ME ALONENEE!!! AUUUUUHG!!! The boy that Test Tube and Soap like is uhhh hmmmmm.., Candle. Candle. And instead of the violin, Candle plays the harp. Because harp's are majestic and awesome like Candle. 'but Sour! Soap and Candle have literally interacted!' RAREPAIRS. THEIR NAME IS NOW SANDLE. GO AWAY. Knife is Mami because like why not!!1! Instead of Charlotte or whatever the little pet thing's name is, it'll be uhh uhh Dora doll or something idk. also to kinda explain Taco basically the first few times "Madoka" died, it wasn't Microphone, but Pickle. After awhile of going back in time to save him, he just.. Didn't show up one day for school. The day Taco was enrolled. Instead, she decided to befriend Microphone because she just kinda put together that if she stayed w/ Pickle, he'd keep dying. (I don't know how it works <3) She thought if she befriended somebody else, Pickle would be safe and so would the new friend! Because why the hell would she coincidentally also become a magical girl and die!!1! Idk bro, the universe said 'he's had enough' and yeah lmao. The last thing Taco would want is for Microphone to end up like Pickle, so she's doing everything in her power to prevent Mic's death!!

Other variations - FEEL FREE TO DRAW THESE!! just @ me if you do :3 Variation no, 1 Pickle - Madoka Taco / Microphone - Sayaka Knife - Homura Microphone / Taco - Kyoko MePad + lil MePhone4 / MePhone4 + lil MePad OR Fan + lil shimmer alien thing - Mami MePhone4 again <3 - Kyuubi (i forgo how to spell it) Variation no, 2 Knife - Madoka Trophy - Sayaka Fan - Homura Cheesy - Kyoko Pickle + tiny Taco - Mami ??? - VAriation no, 3 Lightbulb - Madoka Test Tube OR Fan - Sayaka Paintbrush - Homura Fan OR Test Tube - Kyoko Marshmallow + ghost Bow - Mami urghh tired VArioanti no, 4

Fan - Madoka Lightbulb / Taco - Sayaka Paintbrush - Homura Taco / Lightbulb - Kyoko Test Tube + Bot - Mami 5. Fan - Madoka Paintbrush - Sayaka Test Tube - Homura Lightbulb - Kyoko Suitcase - Mami

[1zashreena1]

Comfort Food

Taco/Female oc (plus size)

Please have this addled fever dream drabble

No porn, only soft. I can't breathe deeply enough to pant thru smut rn.

Gif credit @girlpornparadise

The knock wakes you up. You blink blearily around the little efficiency apartment while trying to remember which way is up. The tv is still on, it's just the little smart tv menu, so whatever voice you're hearing is definitely outside. 

It's also definitely male. 

Undeniably male. A soft rasp. Not so low as to be intimidating, but certainly intriguing.

Come to think of it, the grandma that you rented this teeny over-the-garage apartment from did say that she had a son who worked entirely too much. His own business.  Or something.

Your pajama pants aren't exactly clean, per se, but you're clothed, so it counts. He knocks again just as you get to the lock and slide the chained bolt back. The door swings open with its distinctive creeeeeeeeee-yip and…

Yeah. 

That is.

That is A MAN.

Holy jesus fuckin christ, Mary, and Abraham, too. What in the actual fuck.

First off, he's wearing flip flops. That should not be attractive. And plaid pajama pants. Also, categorically not sexy. A dark colored t shirt, the v-neck is displaying an impressive amount of ink in the form of neck tats that you have never before wanted to lick on a man. But above that is an absolutely gorgeous face with a chiseled jaw, full lips, salt and pepper stubble, high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, dark, bottomless eyes, and naturally perfect eyebrows. All set within tan skin and fetching laugh lines under a riot of black curls.

I am so fucked. 

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

"Hey, uh, I'm, I'm Taco, Marguerite's son. She said she hasn't seen you in a few days, thought you might be sick, so I made some soup." That delicious rasp sounds about as confused as you are. He thrusts the tupperware container at you with a gentle sloshing (Good grief, that must be original '70s) and you stare rudely.

His hands are fucking huge.

Your brain immediately supplies thoughts of finally meeting a man whose hands are big enough to cup your boobs. No! The nails are really short, but it's obvious he does manual labor. Taco's forearms are rippling with muscle and your fever addled libido is fascinated. Beyond that are stupidly broad shoulders--

And we're right back to the neck tats. 

"Hi," you croak unpleasantly with a wince. Hell, even Taco winces. Gamely, you push onward, "Sorry, I sound like shit. Not the best way to meet someone."

Taco takes in your bedraggled hair and baggy pajamas with a not so suppressed smirk, although compassion shimmers in those chocolate eyes. Oh no, please not with the bottomless brown eyes. He rumbles soothingly, "Nah, you're fine. Everybody gets sick, right?"

The soup is still hot and it feels good enough that you clutch it to your chest. It also feels good to have someone care for you. As if he can read your mind, Taco asks, "You alone out here? Mama said you moved here from way out east."

Coming from virtually anyone else this question would be highly suspect. Despite his hulking presence and intimidating ink, Taco feels oddly safe. Oh, he could definitely fuck somebody up, but it wouldn't be you. You're nodding before you realize it, "Yeah. I had to get away. Like, really far away."

Anything else is cut off by a coughing fit that doubles you over. Tears drip onto your tie dyed pants while you gasp for air. Taco takes the container back with his left hand while the right lands on your back. The lack of oxygen results in the floor magically elevating itself toward your face, until a strong arm wraps around your middle. 

"Hey, easy there. I got you." The reassurance is growled directly into your ear and how the hell can your nipples be so alert when you're, like, dying? Taco proceeds to pick you up and gently drop your limp form on the loveseat about five feet to the left. The old furniture sags when he sits, too, but the massive hand rubbing your back is a great distraction from worrying about if the flowered monstrosity might collapse. 

"Sorry," your voice sounds like you just survived a horror movie, two hours of screaming included. Taco is still rubbing your back and it feels really nice. He smells nice, too, like coffee and fabric softener. Are you snuggled into that mysteriously broad chest? Yep.

"While I certainly don't mind holding a beautiful woman," His chuckle vibrates beneath your palms (When did you start groping him? Why the fuck does he have such magnificent pecs?) Taco continues, "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. I mean, we literally just met."

Oh shit, he's a gentleman, too?? You are so screwed.

"Uh, yeah, true. Sorry. And thank you. For the soup, and, you know, the whole picking me up." Looking up proves nearly fatal, those brown eyes are soft and warm. The laugh lines and sprinkling of silver at his temples only make him all the more handsome. You feel like he could be legitimately dangerous, but only in a fierce protector way.

"So, um. Look, I'm just downstairs, round the back if you need anything. More soup, tissues, another hug from a virtual stranger, whatevs." He shoots you a wink and then stands to go to the door. You can't help but laugh, he's not wrong.

"I might just take you up on that." Are you seriously flirting with a nasty head cold? But, those shoulders… 

His voice is soft as he steps outside and closes the door behind him, "Get some rest, chiquita."

---------- 

The soup is really fucking good.

[ehh-is-the-name]

Inanimate Insanity II, ep 14.

I’m making a log of my feelings and thoughts during this ep, something tells me it’s gonna be a feels fest. Oh yeah, forgot to mention there’s spoilers in here, so be careful

Alright I had this idea less then 5 mins into the ep so I’m just gonna start to where Fan gets abducted. --~~~-- BRUH He just runs out to touch the egg like the papa he is and then just SHOOWP. there he goes, up in the green laser then fukin Intro with the chessy music. Are we just not gonna say anything about that?? Plus the convo of MePhone4 and MePad?

Hell yeah I can smell the story from here, 30 minutes of content here I come! ~~~ Alright HE HAS A FUCKIN SHEILD?! I wasn’t expecting a laser battle but damn ~~~ Test Tube’s livid and possibly gone bonkers. Punching a hole through the pop machine wasn’t the most necessary thing but I’ll back it up. Not to mention everyone’s kinda scared her at the moment too... Scared, well spoke a little too soon. ~~~ OUUU Oh SNAP- Suitcase telling of Test Tube like that- Now that’s tea.

~~~ I swear there’s too much going on and I love it. Fan’s stuck with the egg in a horribly minimalistic room, The contestants are trying to defeat the giant egg that was apparently sent by cobs (I don’t by it), and MePhone4 basically saying he’s going lone wolf on everyone and everything, ahh the tea- the drama- the sauce! I love every second of it and I’m not even a whole 10 mins into the ep. ~~~ Um Taco, the fuck you doing with MePad back there? Also Mic, I’m 99% sure you guys aren’t equals, or at least not in Taco’s mind. ~~~ Ngl the lil egg dude being scared of fan made me tear up a bit. I’m weak I know ~~~ Lightbulb makes my day so much better, I love that glass bulb full of gases. The flying buddy is a wonderful name for a rocket made of scrap metal. I love it so much, I can’t- ~~~ Wait, did that glass orb just save the day by fueling the ship? holy fucc, that’s incredible. aLSO MePHone4 I swear- don’t you dare erase a god damn thing, just look at the rocket fly through the sky and don’t press the button. ~~~ ok good he didn’t press it. ~~~ YOOO Suitcase, that’s like the opposite of Ninja’s “It’s just a game” quote, or maybe it’s the same thinking... tbh I have no clue I was just reminded of the quote from she said. ~~~ There’s something mega fucked up about using the Ipad to teleport after forcing him to go in sleep mode... Taco you are one crazy bitch and I don’t condone of your actions but I respect the skills to con and devise.  ~~~ The prime shimmer huh, I have no clue how to feel about floating space eggs with spears calling themselves The Prime Shimmer. ~~~ I think the head prime shimmer’s gonna make me and fan have an existential crisis. I don’t know who I am?? Do I? Do you? Do any of us know who we are exactly? oh no it’s started. eh, why am I worried I’ve been having one for the past 3 years and I’m more or less fine. Idk about fan tho...  ~~~  Oh of course Steve Cobs is the oppressor but also managed to fuck with alien eggs? I’m not down with that. Where’s the cob of corn I wanna teach him a lesson on why you shouldn’t fuck with alien eggs. ~~~ HH H HH THEY STOLE THE BABY EGGS? AND THERE’S ANOTHER ONE? god I love this show. where’s the second baby egg tho, I wanna protect them. I’ve been switched to protect mode ahhah ~~~ Um stop the ha ha funny. Taco Straight up just fucking murdered Test Tube. Not cool, and what are your motives you fishless, bowtie havin, crunchy boi. Why did you need to teleport to the egg ship. Ahfh gfl I’m going mad.  ~~~ MIC DON’T STEAL THE BABY ~~~ Well the “Go on the alien egg ship to get Fan back” plan didn’t turn out so well huh. The worst part is that everything would have worked out it Taco didn’t go all trigger happy. ~~~  Yeah MePhone you kinda fucked up big time. 3-4 of your contestants are hurling though space and you don’t have properties like the blue number we should all know, where you could alter time and space, or at least just fly through space to get them back. ~~~ Am I stupid or something? This whole show I was wondering how these guy come back, like who’s recovering them? Duh of course it’s the host of this whole reality show. ~~~ Umm but Test Tube knows what happened on the ship. Mic how can you live with yourself? AH I’m in agony, this show is too good.  ~~~  oh oh oH OH OHHH SHIT! Mic has pulled the plug on Taco. Gain is all the way downtown. No more transmissions, no more shady business practices and telling her off while mentioning pickle. Taco, you messed up big time buddy. ~~~ - Knife: Did you see her do all that? - Test Tube: No... but I’m also not an idiot! I- - MePhone4: Well that’s fantastic.  I’m livid, listen to Test Tube. Mic was a traitor who helped in very bad practices. I will not stand for this. ~~~ UM Really now, MePad’s gone and it’s just like “eh, he’ll be back, it’s fax time,” smh. I’m not prepared for this elimination. ngl I forgot that this was even part of the show for a sec.

~~~ God damnit Lightbulb, you’re stealing my heart with your little quips. We’re having a meaningful and serious moment. Same thing with MePhone4 not the time, let Mic be the bigger person. Even  though she’s a criminal, possibly even a space criminal.  ~~~ Wait what? Your not gonna just kick Mic and have that be it? what wh y augh- ~~~ THAT’S SO MESSED UP THO! Mic is leaving AND Test Tube’s been kicked cause it’s “just a game”? Baseball, dude... I thought you were better than that. ~~~ No n no, Taco, No. You don’t get to feel bad about using someone alright. Go to space jail and revive MePad please. ~~~ ahf au u the lightbulb gang is too good. Imma cry. I- hic ~~~ MePhone4 you don’t get to be all peppy at the end of it. Lightbulb is fuckin distraught so I’m in pain, I look forward to ep 15 but AHH Hhgh my heart is damaged. Every single episode, angst and ahahh owchie mama. I love this show but damn does it make me upset. Wait what about MePad- I guess I’ll jsut have to be patient and wait. Frick. ~~~ Oh wait there’s extras after the credit? I it’s toilet. O NBIHFFNF JJGkdd njnkjdns FUCK FUCK IUFKC ABORT MISSION. TOILET GE THE FUCK OUT OF THERE AHHH- 

[fallinfor-youreyes]

Like The Stars Miss The Sun

ao3

Sometimes, he lets himself think about her.

Usually, it’s late, when the kids are asleep and the sun is no where in sight, and he finally has a few moments to himself. Times when isn’t thinking about training the kids, or wondering if they finished their homework, or scouring the internet for food that is healthy and will also keep growing teenagers strong. Times when he should really be trying to fall asleep but old habits and training die hard, as he’s learned, and sometimes, he feels more awake when the sun is down and the the sky is black. Side effect of being raised by Bruce “I am the night” Wayne.

It’s then, when he lets himself think about Kory. And by let himself, he means finally allows himself to deal with all the thoughts he’s had about her all day come to the front of his mind, because for a few moments, he can. He doesn’t have to worry about other things. So he lets himself think of her, and where she is and what’s she’s doing and how she might react to things that are happening. Like Rachel learning to control her powers, or Gar turning into new animals every few weeks, or Jason not acting like dick for 2 minutes every once in a while, or if she would be able to help Rose stop walking on eggshells around the tower.

Dick Grayson know’s he lives a pretty dangerous lifestyle, but he thinks these moments, these silent, stolen moments when he thinks of Kory’s smile and her laugh and the way she knows what he’s thinking sometimes even before he does are the most dangerous parts of his day. Because, they are almost normal. For a few moments, he can be a 28 year old guy who may or may not be pining after beautiful, terrifying woman. Until he remembers he’s actually a somewhat retired superhero who is currently training a new class of superheroes, who may or may not pining after a princess of an alien planet.

They are dangerous because his life has never been normal. Because he has never been normal. Because no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop thinking about her.

His thoughts get more dangerous the longer he hasn’t head from her. The sometimes in the middle of the night have started creeping into other parts of the day. Like when he’s coming back from the farmer’s market and hopes, that maybe, just maybe, he’ll open the door this time, and she’ll be sitting on the couch, smirk on her face, green eyes full of mischief and stories. Or when he’s making dinner and he thinks about making extra just in case Kory pops in. Or when he’s teaching the kids a new training routine, and he pauses in the middle of an explanation, stupidly listening as if she’ll appear behind him and tell him he’s doing it wrong, step in saying “here let me show you should actually do it.”

Or when he stops a half a footstep away from opening the door to his bedroom, trying to banish all thoughts of Kory tangled in his sheets, fingertips dancing down his chest as he tells her about everything and anything.

Dick tries to chalk it down it to the fact that he hasn’t heard from her in 3 months. That part of him is just curious about what she has been up to, if she is planning on staying on Earth, if maybe, just maybe, she’s thinking about him too.

It’s dangerous but no matter what he does, he can’t seem to get her out of his head.

Part of him knows that whatever they had for a few brief weeks would have ended in flames and blood and disaster. Part of him knows it's a good thing it ended like it did, careful, safe, smiles on both their faces.

But the other part of him, the much less logical side of Dick Grayson, can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if he kissed her by the car that day. That part of him wants to know, wants to wonder.

That part of him never wants to stop thinking about Kory ever again.

xXx

Sometimes she lets herself think about him.

By sometimes she means most of the time.

By most of the time, she means too much of the time, Dick Grayson is invading her thoughts in ways she did not give him permission too.

Kory knows there is lot about herself that she does not know. A lot of her time before earth and on earth and before she ran into Dick and Rachel and Gar and everyone else is a mystery to her. One she plans to figure out a remember. But, knowing so little about herself, she likes to think she has some sort of control over her own, current thoughts. But apparently her brain has a very different idea.

She’s up with the sun in the mornings, way to early in her opinion, but it happens every day without fail, and every day without fail, the smallest, most annoying part of her brain has a wish. That this time she will open her eyes and Dick Grayson will be there, softly snoring, his face peaceful, some part of his body tangled around hers.

It’s an impulsive thought. One she cannot shake free of. Even though she knows it's mainly her fault that it is just a thought, not an actual action. He asked her to come with him. In his own, round about way, eyes almost pleading with her as he casually said the car had enough room. But she said no. Because she needs to figure out who she is before she can do something as impulsive and reckless as allowing herself to get dangerously close to Dick Grayson. They both need to figure themselves out.

She spends too much of her time not allowing herself to think about him. Which means alot of her time is spent thinking about not thinking about him, which sometimes makes her want to fly all the way out to California to punch him in the face.

And the thing is, she knows where he is. The last time Donna had talked to him, her told her about San Francisco and Titans tower, which led to Donna telling her about the original titans, and now, Kory knows where he and the kids are. She has a decent idea about what they are doing, and it lends itself to her imagination more than she cares.

So she distracts herself. Donna has plans and lets Kory stay in her spare bedroom. When they are not tracing down criminals or the occasional meta human, Donna helps her translate her notes from the storage locker, and they try to figure out her life before she woke in the Vienna and the guns and whole plot to kill Rachel.

And when they aren’t doing either of those things, Donna is showing her Earth. She knows what is like for things to be foreign and unfamiliar and she’s opinionated and funny and Kory trusts her. It’s a hard thing for her to do, learn to trust others, but she Donna has her back, even if she make fun of her music choices. She knows thee best food trucks and drags her to all the fun dancing clubs, and sometimes, she smiles, and Kory can see just the smallest amount of Dick’s smile in hers, and Kory wonders if that’s something that happens with all siblings, blood related or not.

Which leads to her thinking about her own family who she can’t remember. And also, sometimes, (most of the time, too much of the time) leads to her thinking about Dick. Dick and his stupid smile, and his stupid fluffy hair, and his stupid, perfect, magical mouth. Dick and his family, before and after and now. Dick Grayson and Rachel Roth and Gar Logan and her, their tiny, broken, disaster of a family that somehow grew in the space a few weeks, a family that she misses, that she thinks about too often. A family that could be hers if she wanted.

A family she hasn’t heard from in about 3 months.

Donna asks her where she wants to go next and she says Florida because it’s warm, but California is also warm. Warm and has her family, and Dick, and his stupid, perfect, magical mouth.

Part of her wants to go to California. Part of her wants her impulsive morning thoughts to be a reality.

But the other part of her, the more logical and political part of her wants to run. Run away and never look back, because she knows it can only end in disaster, one she doesn’t think she would be able to pick up the pieces from.

But, before either part of her can weigh the pros and cons, everything goes to shit.

xXx

“What do you mean Kory’s missing?”

Donna makes a noise on the other end of the phone, one that sounds an awful lot like she is kicking something rather hard, but he waits for her to explain herself.

“I told you. Shimmer. Tacos. Roy. No tacos. No Kory. I’ve called all my contacts in Florida, and used just about every ounce of pull with anyone to see if they’ve caught a glimpse of her. But nothing. She’s just gone. I know it’s shitty timing with Dr. Light but I can’t leave Chicago. Not without knowing she’s okay.” Donna sighs, and then kicks something again, and Dick presses his head into the kitchen counter.

All of his thoughts about Kory Anders turn to a slow sort of panic. Kory is missing. Dr. Light is sending light bombs after them. Hank and Dawn are having some sort of argument he hasn’t figured out yet. Rachel is definitely hiding something from him, and he still doesn’t know how to talk to Gar, and Jason is a whole natural disaster bundled inside a 19 year boy, and Rose still won’t tell him who she’s running from, and he’s only one guy. One guy who was almost having a good few weeks.

He should have known. Things were starting to feel normal.

“Dick?”

“Yeah. Fuck.” He drops his head to the counter again, this time with more force. Kory’s missing. Has been for 2 days. And he didn’t know. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

He can almost see Donna’s glare the second the words are out of his mouth. “It’s been two days, Dick. You used to disappear for weeks when we were kids, so I was giving her the benefit of the doubt for a few days before I called in the calvary.”

“Your right, I’m sorry, I’m just-“

“Worried,” Donna says. She knows him better than almost anyone, and sometimes hates it. “You’re allowed be. But you’re also not the only one.”

“I know.” He sighs, resists the urge to kick something like Donna has been doing for most of the conversation. “I’ll see if I can find anything out from over here. Keep me updated,” he says. Dick squeezes his eyes shut, and tries not to think of any of the terrible scenarios that instantly are forming in his mind. “Please.” The word slips out from his mouth without his permission, broken and hopeless.

“Of course. And Dick,” Donna says, stopping him just before he hangs up on he. “If anyone can take of themselves, it Kory.”

“I know.”

He drops the phone onto the counter much like his head, almost hoping it cracks. But to do that he would need to chuck it at the wall, a few times, probably, and he doesn’t have the energy for that at the moment. Kory is missing. Kory could bee in danger or dead and he’s been too worried about everything going on in the tower to even think consider Koriand’r, alien princess who can shoot fire from her hands, finding herself in danger.

He wants to fly to Chicago. He wants to track all of the steps that led to her being there one minute and gone the next. He wants to know where she is. He needs to know if she’s okay.

But he can’t. Because he has his own problems and his own dangerous situations, and he has four teenagers he needs to keep safe from a bad guy he thought was stopped already, and he still hasn’t made dinner for the night.

Dick wants a lot of things. He doesn’t want normal, because that’s not who he his. That’s not who the people he loves and cares about are. But he wants safety, or at least some semblance of it. He wants the kids to be safe, and he wants Kory to be safe and okay, and he wants for the world to stop spinning so fast for single moment so he can breath.

He thought working things out with Bruce and letting go of the darkness inside of him would lead to something new, something better, something slightly less stressful.

But it hasn’t. At least, not in the way he wanted it to. And he doesn’t know what to do, or how to move forward, and for a second he wants almost normal again. But almost normal led them here to this mess. So he doesn’t know what he truly wants, and that only makes him want to smash his head into the counter until he has an answer, even if that answer is being unconscious.

“Dick?” Rachel’s suddenly behind him, probably able to read his mind or feel his stress through the walls. He knows he needs to tell her about Kory, and why Dawn and Hank are here, and why someone blew up their car, but he can’t seem to bring his head up from the marble yet.

“What happened to Kory?” Rachel forces herself next to him. He lifts his head and she’s staring at him with a glare that could rival Donna’s, and it give him enough motivation to push himself from the counter.

“I don’t know yet.”

Before he can say anything else Gar and Jason come into thee kitchen bickering about something, and the Rose comes, hovering by the door and Hank and Dawn follow the sounds of Jason and Gar’s argument until the kitchen is full and for a split second, Dick pretends its because everyone is hungry and they are here to talk about dinner.

But that’s not why they are here.

So he tells them, about Dr. Light and about Kory and everyone looks at him for a plan.

He doesn’t know how to tell he doesn’t have one.

xXx

She lets herself be embarrassed over being taken down with a single taser for about three minutes.

It was Tamaran taser, which lets her be slightly less embarrassed.

And then she turns that embarrassment into rage, and embarrasses everyone who thought sending one person to drag her back home would be enough.

She remembers bits and pieces about who she is. More than she used to but still not enough to really know who herself, so she gets him talking first, until she learns enough for even more memories to slowly unlock in her brain. Gets him talking until he’s close enough for her knock him out and tie him up, more efficiently than he did with her.

She kicks himself for good measure, hoping she’s hit him hard enough to stay asleep while she searches for her phone.

Kory gives herself a moment to be proud of herself. And then another to think about how proud Dick would be for her not killing him, even when he definitely deserved it.

She finds her phone and then rolls her head, working out the cracks and tension as she thinks for a second. A moment.

Really, at this point, she knows exactly what she wants.

She types in Donna’s number first.

“Oh , my god. Are you okay? Where are you?” Donna is talking a mile a minute and Kory is only able to confirm she is alive before Donna is off, asking questions she doesn’t give her time to answer.

“Donna. I’m okay. Stop for a moment.” Kory says, and Donna stops, taking a shaky breath that Kory can only barely hear over the phone.

She tells her where she is, and that she needs to know if there is somewhere they can keep him for now, and Donna goes into tactical mode, and she talks to her until she’s running through the door of the warehouse, wrapping Kory in a hug before she even hangs up the phone.

“I knew you didn’t go to Florida,” Donna says. “God, we were so worried.”

Kory doesn’t miss the we but she ignores it for the moment. “They are going to send more. So we should interrogate him a bit, figure out as much as we can.” She twists the ring on her finger, trying to figure out the best next steps.

Logically, she knows she should stay here in Chicago, figure out exactly what Tamaran has planned for her.

But, realistically, she’s been trying to figure out the fastest way to San Francisco since she first tied her assailant up.

Donna kicks the man, and he slumps over in the chair. “I know a place were we can keep him.” Donna breaks out into a smile, turning back to Kory.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Dick has a nice place in San Francisco. Which works out perfectly.” She pauses pulling out her phone again, and Kory is able to glimpse a terrible picture of Dick on the screen before Donna presses the phone to her ear. “Something’s happened in California.”

xXx

Donna tells him she’s found Kory and that she’s okay, but for some reason, it doesn’t sink in until she’s there, standing in his door way, hair straight but still in her signature fur coat.

And he just, stares.

Because, Kory is here, Kory is okay, Kory is standing in his door, the beginning of smile stretching across her lips.

He’s forgotten just how breath taking she is.

And suddenly, he’s forgotten how to breath.

“Oh, my god.” Donna rolls her eyes and pushes past the both of them. “Nice to see you too, Dick. I’ve dropped our friend in the sub zone. Thanks for not changing the locks.” She pats his cheek as she side steps him, and then it’s just him and Kory, still standing in the doorway, because he is still processing that she’s here. This isn’t one of his day dreams.

It had been two days since Donna called him, telling him Kory was okay and that they were coming to San Francisco, ‘friend’ included. Two days of Dick trying to come to terms with the fact that Kory was coming, that she was going to be here, that everyone was going to be together again.

Two days of Dick thinking maybe, just maybe, they could all make it out of this mess okay.

“Hi,” he says, rather eloquently. It comes out breathless. He wants to punch himself in the face.

“Are you going to invite me in?” Kory asks. She has a cut down the side of her cheek that’s halfway healed, and he wants to know who hurt her, wants to know what happened, needs to know that she is actually okay.

But instead, he steps aside, and her smile grows, and she lets her eyes travel around the room before spinning herself back to him.

“So this is where you’ve been the past couple of weeks.”

“Yeah. I’m sure the kids will take you on a tour as soon as they possibly can.” He wants to take a step toward her, but he doesn’t know what their protocol is anymore. He’s never really known, but now it feels like there’s a three month sized wall between them, and he doesn’t know how to start breaking it down.

“Hmm.” She hums, eyes still roaming before dragging her teeth over her bottom lip. “Any chance of you being the one to show me around?”

And, fuck. Kory Anders is literally two steps away from him, real, and alive, and flirting with him, and fuck he’s missed her. Dick closes the space between them in two second, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, thumb ghosting over the cut on her skin.

“Pretty sure the kids would severely injure me if I tried.”

Kory’s eyes flutter shut and wants to kiss her, wants to pull her into his room, wants to know everything about her last three months. But there’s seven other people in the house and about 18 different problems that need to be taken care of so he can’t.

He knows they only have a few moments before Rachel and Gar crash into the room. Only a few moments before everyone swarms and the he has to start explaining Rose and Dr. Light why they are all here. Only a few moments with Kory by themselves, a few moments to take in that she is alive, and she is okay, and she is here, before the peace is broken.

“Will you tell me what happened?” He asks, words barely a whisper.

Her eyes shoot open, and there’s a split second of fear that he is able to catch before she blinks it away.

“Will you tell me?”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak. Because he will. Because he finally wants to.

He wants a lot of things.

“Later. After the kids are done with you.” He can hear Gar’s footsteps now, so he presses a quick kiss to her forehead and then takes a step back, just before everyone else bursts into the room and then Rachel is in Kory’s arms and Gar is wrapping his arms around them both, and there is at least 10 different things that need to be figured out right now, but Dick feels something close to peace.

Everyone is here, and there is the smallest degree of safety in this moment, and together, all of them, will figure it out.

They’ll make a plan, and everything will be okay. Because this is their normal.

xXx

Kory wakes with the sun, and allows herself a single moment for an impulsive thought. It’s the same impulsive thought she’s had for weeks now. The one she keeps trying to banish but can’t.

She’s going to open her eyes, and be in Donna’s spare room, alone. And that’s okay, because she’s used to it by now, thinking about Dick Grayson when she shouldn’t.

Kory opens her eyes.

Dick’s arm around her waist tightens just slightly, and there’s the smallest worry line between his eyebrows that she would try to flatten if she knew it wouldn’t wake him up.

This isn’t a thought. This is real. Dick Grayson is wrapped around her like a cocoon and she’s in his shirt, and last night he talked to her, about everything and anything, and she told him what she had learned about herself.

This is real. She is here. And if Dick Grayson is going to be taking up too much time in her thoughts, then she wants to at least be able to tell him about at the end of day.

Kory studies his face until his nose scrunches up. She knows he’s awake, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet, almost like he’s afraid that he will and she will be gone.

She knows the feeling.

“Good morning,” she says, a whisper almost lost in his giant room. His eyes are still closed the the side of his lip quirks up. Kory smooths of the worry line between his eyebrows, letting her hand slip down his face until she can press the side of smile with her thumb.

“I’m going to kiss you know, Dick Grayson.”

His eyes pop open, and then she’s kissing him, and he rolling them over until he can cage her between the bed and his arms, and this, this is what she has not let herself think about. Because nothing compares to the real thing.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, lips brushing over her skin as he kisses his way down her throat.

Kory tangles her hands in his hair and sighs, pulling his lips back to hers. “I’ve missed you too.”

[tracies-tales]

Help, I’ve Fallen (and I’m not getting up)

ohoho what’s THIS? AN EXCUSE TO WRITE A GOOD OMENS AU?? DARN TOOTIN’ also Demon Dan? Angel Arin? i couldn’t not okay also i promise no spoilers for the show ahead, just inspiration :3

~~~

Sunrise was one of Arin’s favorite times of day. Well, frankly any time the sun was out happened to make the day lovely, in his opinion. There weren’t many other pedestrians around, just some elderly folk out for a morning stroll, along with a handful of middle aged folk out for morning jogs alone or with their dogs, or with their cat, in one charmingly odd case. It made the park blissfully quiet, save for the birdsong in the trees above and the distant sound of cars humming by on the streets, people on their way to make their lives as people. It filled Arin with joy, watching humans be human. He felt his halo practically glowing, that is it would be if it manifested outside of heaven. 

He drew in a deep breath of the crisp morning air, the smell of city smog offering a dingy but not wholly unpleasant undertone. Arin had gotten used to the smokey air of the city decades ago, and besides, it reminded him of a close friend. Oh, shit. Speaking of which, he was going to be late for a meeting.

Arin stood and brushed off his coat, and when no one was looking, he disappeared in a miraculous blink of light. He reappeared in a homey cafe, smiling in thanks at the waitress as she sat him at a booth for two. He ordered himself a cup of coffee and settled to wait, stacking the creamer cups to pass the time.

Until at last, the bell on the door rung. Arin looked up and felt his heart flutter, sending a chill to the tip of every feather in his wings. Well, if they were currently manifested, either. Walking in was a tall gentlemen in a black leather jacket and torn jeans, his mass of curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail to show off his ear piercings and the small snake tattoo where a sideburn might be on the right side of his face. He had on a pair of sunglasses, which Arin didn’t find surprising in the least--Dan rarely ever took them off.

Arin stood and gave him a bashful grin, “Hello, Daniel. Good to see you, as always.”

Dan scoffed and said, “Arin, please, it’s only been six thousand years. Call me Dan.”

“Ah, right. Force of habit,” Arin said, a flustered tint of pink accenting his cheeks as he sat back down. “So, why’d you ask me here?”

“What, a demon can’t buy his best friend lunch?” Dan raised a brow. “Is it illegal for demons to be nice to angels, now?” He leaned back and snapped his menu open, peering down at it. Arin couldn’t tell if he was looking at him through the glasses, but he quietly hoped he was.

God, if Arin hadn’t fallen eons ago, every time he saw Dan, it pulled him closer to the precipice. 

“No, no, just...that’s really it? That’s all you called for?” Arin asked.

“Why else would I call?” Dan asked, glancing up over the rim of the glasses, just enough for Arin to see the electric blue irises beneath, severed down the middle by the elliptical pupils. He’d never admit it, but one of Arin’s favorite things was finding ways to make those pupils dilate. 

“Um, I dunno, you were having some sort of emergency?” Arin said.

Dan rolled his eyes and looked back at the menu, “If I were having an emergency, angel, I wouldn’t need your help to handle it. Or have you forgotten it’s always me covering for your feathered ass?”

“You...also have feathers, Dan,” Arin said, mostly to cover for the fact that hearing Dan call him ‘angel’ had made his brain short circuit. Even if he hadn’t necessarily meant it as a term of endearment, it never failed to make his heart swell.

Dan pursed his lips and said, “Fine, I’m always covering for your pristinely preened ass.”

“As if your wings are in any way mangy,” Arin quipped back. He dearly wished he’d see Dan more often, but he was positive that those watching from above wouldn’t think well of him ‘fraternizing with the enemy.’ Not that in the six thousand years he’d known the demon, he’d ever thought of Dan as his enemy. Maybe at first he didn’t trust him, but Dan had been an angel once himself, after all.

“That’s not the point and you know it,” Dan retorted with a ghost of a grin. It was a micro-expression Arin had picked up on ages ago, and he was eternally grateful he had. Seeing Dan happy was inexplicably fulfilling in ways Arin couldn’t express. Maybe it was because it reminded Arin of the days before Dan fell. The thought made his expression darken, but he forced himself to keep smiling. 

The day Dan fell had been overwhelmingly crushing. It was like god was testing Arin by giving him a taste of his own personal hell--a world without Dan. Arin had wanted so badly to fly down after him; he’d have plunged headlong into the fiery pits if it had meant keeping Dan by his side these last few centuries. He didn’t think, all these years, that Dan actually knew Arin had watched it happen. He hoped he’d never find out. Watching Dan’s feathers burn, turning from shimmering white to charred black, Arin could have sworn he felt his own wings becoming singed. 

“Hey, Arin?” Dan asked, making Arin focus again. “You okay?” There was an unmistakable furrow in Dan’s scarred eyebrow. Even though Arin couldn’t see his eyes directly, it was sweet knowing he was concerned. 

“Fine,” Arin replied without hesitation, smile returning to its usual brightness. “Perfectly peachy.”

Dan frowned a bit but mocked, “’Perfectly peachy?’ What are you, a Strawberry Shortcake doll?”

Arin tilted his head, “A doll made of shortcake?”

“Fuck’s sake, Arin, they’re a line of children’s toys. Get with the century.”

“It’s hard keeping them straight,” Arin pouted.

Dan snorted, mumbling, “Much like myself.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Dan asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“...Nevermind. So, we’re here for emergency breakfast. Then what?”

Dan shrugged, “I just...alright, look,” he set his menu down. “You want the truth? The god’s honest truth? I just need some time with someone who’s not another demon. The people downstairs, they’re all so,” he scrunched his nose as he looked for the right word, “gross.”

Arin chuckled, “Gross. No kidding, the demons of hell, gross?”

Dan turned his head away, “Well we’re certainly not a savory lot, I’ll give you that.”

Arin’s humor immediately left his tone, “What? No, Dan, you’re not...I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright, I know what you meant,” Dan said as he took out his wallet and laid down a couple bills. “I wouldn’t want to hang out with a demon, either, I suppose. If you’d rather I get out of your hair, I’ll leave money for the coffees and be on my way.”

“No, Dan, I love seeing you,” Arin reached across the table, setting his hand over Dan’s. “I...truth be told, I miss seeing you. Why don’t we hang out more often?”

Dan raised his scarred brow, “I assumed that was because you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in my company. No doubt I’d bring down your divine image.”

“Stop that,” Arin said, giving his hand a squeeze. “As far as I’m concerned, if it means being with you...then fuck the divine image. I don’t care what Michael, or Gabriel, or any of them have to say about it. Besides,” he gave him a small smile, “your image is equally divine, even if they can’t appreciate it.”

Arin could practically feel the temperature in the cafe increase. Dan pulled his hand away and said, “You’re too nice for your own good. S’gonna get you killed one day.”

“Maybe,” Arin smiled. “But hey, maybe this time we’ll end up in the same place, yeah?”

“Shit, I hope not, for your own sake,” Dan said, though this time he grinned fully. Arin was pretty sure if he had a heart, it’d have stopped beating. 

Later that day, at sunset, Dan and Arin found themselves sitting on a bench in the park. The city was still alight with activity as people returned home, families and friends spent time together, couples held hands as they took their own romantic strolls.

Dan’s arms were spread behind himself along the back of the bench, one of his arms not-so-subtly ending up behind Arin’s shoulders. Arin’s eyes might normally be on the setting sun, but on this particular night, they couldn’t seem to turn away from Dan. Dan said, “Y’know, of all of His almighty creations, sunsets are one of the most beautiful. Who knew such a huge ball of burning gas could look so spectacular?”

Arin chuckled, “Very different than the burning balls of gas produced when one eats Taco Bell.”

Dan started laughing, making Arin’s chest puff up with pride at being able to draw a laugh out of him. “Yeah, very different,” Dan said, turning to look at him and seeming to realize for the first time Arin had already been watching him. His expression softened as he asked, “What about you? What are some of your favorites?”

Arin thought a moment and said, “Video games are a pretty neat invention. Cats are cute, too, but...” he hesitated but reached out a hand, plucking the sunglasses off Dan’s face. The yellow light from the sun casting sideways against Dan’s blue eyes turned them a wonderfully brilliant shade of teal. “I have to give credit for Him leaving us free will. The choice to do what we believe in. To leave when we can’t support something.”

Dan studied him, his pupils growing a fraction. “Yeah. That was awful kind of Him, casting a handful of us out.”

“But you ultimately chose to fall,” Arin said slowly. 

“I didn’t fall, I...sauntered vaguely downwards,” Dan retorted. “There are definitely things I miss about heaven, but...mine is right here, anyway.”

Arin felt himself blushing and turned away, saying, “Oh, stop,” before he saw Dan getting closer from his peripheral vision, then felt a peck on his cheek. He turned in surprise, but Dan was already pulling back, refusing to look in his direction. Arin grinned and said, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind another temptation.”

Dan looked back to him and asked, “What?” just before Arin leaned forward and gave him a proper kiss, pulling back to see Dan’s pupils had dilated further. Dan stared for a second but broke into a smirk, “Oh, I can tempt you to more than that, angel. Care to visit my apartment?”

Arin carefully crossed his legs, then said, “With pleasure.”

[gracieisnotmuchofawriter]

Process of Getting Closer II

I don’t know what Jude is, they’re a person I like and that’s all that matters, fuck it.

  It’s the first weekend I haven’t taken my painkillers since school started. The loneliness can leave me paralyzed and wanting to just get away. But Jude is helping a lot, even if they don’t know it, and even if it’s just the first weekend of knowing them.

  Today, we decided to sit outside at this bench just outside of the resident building. We got food from a Taco Bell from down the street, what we ate is irrelevant, but we sat at the bench, the sun setting in front of us. Everything from cars to kids to the architecture shined red and orange, the sky was a washed out blue from the brightness of the sun.

  It was another humid day, the guys and the girls walked around in tank tops, denim shorts, and basketball shorts. Some kids from network administration wore khaki shorts with their polo shirts tucked all the way in. Then you have the few chubbier guys wearing whole ass sweaters, I can relate kinda, I mean, I was wearing a very thin shawl-cardigan-like-thingy even though the air was so fucking thick. Then the amazing, top-notch goth girl in our classes wore a black sweater with a design she made herself, skinny jeans with fishnets visible from the torn slits at the sides. She’s also a ginger. She said hi to us when she went into the resident hall.

  “So what do you think of college?” Jude asked, they take a sip of their drink, looking at me through squinted eyes.

  “It’s okay, I really like how quiet it gets compared to my house, but then I also hate it.” My house isn’t loud per se, it’s just someone’s always up, doing something. I think I’m just used to the noise.

  “You just used to the noise?” They ask, seemingly reading my mind.

  “Yeah, I try to sleep with my computer on, but I’m afraid I’m gonna break it from doing that.” I say, the time my Xbox’s fans stopped cooling everything ran through my head.

  “My roommate has an unopened thirty-two inch for sale, she only wants like seventy bucks.” They said, but I was more interested in something else, “Okay, maybe saying ‘ONLY’ is a bit much considering it’s still seventy dollars and we’re broke college kids.”

  “So your roommates a girl?” I ask, hoping to find an answer.

  “Yeah, they accepted my application late since I wanted to be an RA, or a resident assistant. I got accepted to be one so they just put me up in the last available RA unit. It just happened to be with girls.” Jude shrugs, they take a bite of their food.

  “Doesn’t that seem, I don’t know, a little irresponsible?” I said, taking a drink of my teal sugar water.

  “Yeah, I guess, but I got a bedroom and a bathroom all to myself, I mean, you saw it, would you care if you had all that?” They say with a shrug.

  “You’re right, what’s it like being an RA?” I ask, Jude’s face turns a bright, intense orange as the evening slips away.

  “Looking forward to having no debt at the end of this, but honestly, I wish the school didn’t have a three-strike rule when students get locked out of their dorms. It gets really boring sometimes.” Jude says, taking another sip from their drink.

  “See anything bad happen?” I asked, long forgotten are the basis of Jude’s sex.

  “Like a woman getting roofied or whatever? Nah, guys around here are good boys, thank God.” Jude takes another bite, “Though, I do know some guys around here have anger problems.

   “Apparently, every summer they have to repair some drywall that was sunken in.” Jude shrugs, sipping on her drink.

  “So how are you roommates? Anyone giving you any problems or what’s up? I’m bored.” Jude says as they turn to me, the shadows become sharp and defined from the waning golden hour.

  “Asha forgets her keys a lot...” I say, last weekend, both Saturday and Sunday she called me to let her in after she got off work.

  “Asha? Asha Torres?” Jude says, their voice is filled with curiosity and wonder, I nod at them.

  “Asha paid that third strike fine three times already.” Jude says chuckling.

  “She has a job, so it’s probably no big deal to her, or at least until last weekend.” I say, remembering my food, I take a bite and sip of my fizzy syrup.

  “What does she study?” Jude asked, the orange glow still shimmered off of their face.

  “Hospitality management I think? I don’t know, she’s really into customer service for some reason.” I say, I start passively sipping on my pop, my blood thickens like a model after she makes it big.

  “Explains why she’s so cordial, where does she work?” Jude asks.

  “Hostel One? It’s by the storage place in the Commons, I think.” I say, visualizing the hotel when her and I went to the mall, before my dependency started.

  After a while, the air wasn’t so heavy anymore, the breeze was cool and it made my armpits and boobs less sticky. My face still felt like a grilled cheese sandwich, though. Jude’s face still glowed in the twilight, they were really pretty and handsome. I was exhausted though, my cravings were getting bad, my leg started bouncing and I felt that empty frustration in my stomach. I put my head back in the bench, my hair hung off the back. A gnawing question started to eat away at the back of my neck.

  “Are you gay?” I ask, in a way I regretted it, it felt like it wasn’t any of my business, but then how do you talk about your roommates for an entire weekend?

  “I like how vague the term queer is these days, I fool around with anyone I fancy.” They say matter-of-fact-ly.

  “I thought it was mean to call someone that.” I said as I counted the stars that came into view above me.

  “Not anymore, it’s a word that’s kind of been saved by queers like me.” Jude says, snickering.

  I giggle a bit, they join me, I look over at them and they sit back, same as me, our eyes meet. ‘This feeling is amazing.’ I think.

  “So what kinda genitals are you into?” Jude says, their smile seems genuine, but teasing.

  “Big ones, small ones, innies.” I start giggling again, Jude snickers before they burst into an intense giggle fit.

   “What a way to say vagina.” Jude says, their voice trailing off.

   “I don’t really know what I like, to be honest.” I clarify. There weren’t a lot of people I liked that way in high school, maybe just one person.

   “That’s fine, anyone you crush on in high school or maybe here?” Jude asks, I had a feeling that they were fishing for me to respond positively, but then I don’t really know.

   “I had a bit of relationship develop with this one guy in my choir class.” I think back to this time, before I broke my ankle, before I was prescribed quick-release Oxycodone, before now.

   “He was just a very gentle guy, in a school where most guys were kinda abrasive and annoying, he seemed different.” I say, thinking back to that messy red hair, that sharp jawline, those freckles.

   “We met at this rehearsal, he was a baritone bass, I was a mezzo soprano, it was a team-building exercise to help us find the same notes.” The trees that line the sidewalk rustle in the mild breeze, leaves fall to the ground, sliding across the concrete, I continue,

   “To keep it short, the teacher wasn’t happy with the fact that we both were just mouthing the songs, she also didn’t like that we laughed when we realized we were both doing it.” I chuckle, the choir teacher was incredibly pale. Watching her chest and cheeks and forehead turn the color of a tomato was great.

   “Then—“ I don’t want Jude to know how hurt I still am, “he moved to a different city, all of his friends and I lost touch with him.” I didn’t want to tell Jude the part where he kept texting his friends, talking to them on this community-builder app called Discord or whatever. When his friends found out he hadn’t talked to me since he left—it had been a year at that point—they started to ignore him. I’m not really sure if they actually did, though.

   “You miss him, don’t you?” Jude asks, their voice is gentle, understanding even.

   “I miss everyone I lost touch with.” I turn my head, looking at Jude’s handsome face. A thought barged into my head as I sat there watching them. ‘What’s stopping them from doing the same?’ I try to ignore it, but Jude’s interest reminds me of Robin, they almost look and dress the same, if Robin had white hair, bigger eyes and fuller lips, Jesus they could be twins.

   “You know too much now, I think I have to kill you.” My voice is soft and frank, I look at them with puckered lips and I hope my eyes were puppy-like enough.

   Jude’s face crinkles up into laughter. I join them.

I have a canvas next to my desk, I used stencils I bought at Michael’s when I learned about Ed Ruscha last month. I did a drip painting on another square of canvas. It was a layered monstrosity of browns, blacks, dark greens and white. I grabbed a silver marker and began coloring the stencils. In Futura Bold, all it said was, “Jude Is Temporary”.

   The thoughts of Jude leaving my life was already unbearable. As the time between when we picked up and went back to our rooms to now, all I can think of is that pill bottle. It said ‘Take (1) as needed’, but I haven’t been listening lately. I tried distracting myself from the horrid thought of Jude getting tired of me, but it was strangling me. It even informed what was supposed to be a comforting message. I just really need a way to get out of this headspace. I contemplate calling my aunt and asking to come home for a few days, just so I would be out of the way of my painkillers. I thought about walking up to her, hugging her and telling her I’m sorry for disappointing her so much. Then I’d confess to abusing my painkillers.

   “Hey Amber, wanna go out and get dinner—, that’s fucking cool.” Asha says, pointing at my painting.

Amber