#dear daisy sneak peek

[nenelonomh]

something is brewing...

[venombloom]

❛ strapping young men are so difficult to deal with. ❜ tia abt lucanis 😇🫶

@mocksfate

In only a matter of seconds, Daisy feels herself start to choke on the sip of wine. There's a wave of sputtering coughs, hand shooting up to cover her mouth. It's enough of a commotion to catch the attention of the gathered senior Crows feet away, milling about around the table. Viago naturally shoots her a glare, Teia looks a little amused and Lucanis cants his head, brow raised.

Her own gaze is quick to snap away from them — away from him. Instead Daisy looks back at Abrielle, face and especially cheeks flushed red though not from the alcohol. "I don't know what you're talking about Tia." she murmurs, turning in her seat so she's completely face to face with her dear, sweet aunt. Still out of the corner of her eye, she still has view of the subject of her affection the conversation.

Glass is swirled as if to aerate the vintage blend, even though it's more of a restless action. For a beat longer she waits till she deems it safe to start whispering again. "I wouldn't say difficult. Enigmatic?" A hum as she tries to think of the best explanation. When failed to do so, free hand is waved dismissively. "It's not like that though with us. I'm pretty sure he doesn't share the sentiments for me as I do him. Which is fine. There's more important things to handle anyways."

Temptation nips at her, goading her. Carefully she sneaks a side-eyed peek, nibbling her bottom lip. "Oh but, Tia..." Daisy sighs dreamily, breaking out into a grin. "What do you think? What's your opinion?"

[stories-of-the-nrm]

Emily In Wonderland

Emily was having a very hard time sitting by the bank with her sister Molly. Despite sneaking peeks at her book, Emily found it very boring. She sat around playing with daisies when she saw a white rabbit with pink eyes running around.

"Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!"

It wasn't until Emily saw the rabbit pull out a pocket watch that she realized this was real. She chases after the rabbit down its hole until she falls for so long it's hard to tell how deep the hole is. She starts to see lots of bookshelves and even a jar of orange marmalade as she falls. She tries to sneak a taste but comes up empty.

"Oh whatever shall happen next?! I shall end up in New Zealand after falling through the Earth!"

Suddenly she comes upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves. The fall is over. Emily can only see Cotton the White Rabbit running through a long passageway.

"Oh my ears and whiskers how late it's getting!"

Just as Emily was about to catch up with the rabbit she finds herself in a room with numerous keys and doors. Emily tries to find the right combination that will let her leave.

The door she managed to open had a passageway no bigger than a rathole.

"If only I could shut myself up like a telescope. Surely then, I could enter this passageway."

She looks around the room and sees a bottle on the table with a label saying "Drink me" tied around it. Emily picks it up.

"This was certainly not here before. I must check if it's poison before drinking it."

So Emily looks around the bottle for a hidden label saying "poison". When she couldn't find such a label, she decided to drink it. It had various flavors that reminded her of a lovely Christmas dinner. Suddenly she feels herself shrinking.

"How curious. I must be only 10 inches high."

After going to the door to look around the garden, Emily realized that she left the key behind.

"Oh dear. How can I possibly get up on the table?"

Despite wanting to cry, Emily finds a small cake that says "Eat me" frosted on it.

"Perhaps this will help me get through the door no matter how my size changes."

So Emily eats the whole and is shocked to grow so much she ends up about 9 feet tall.

"Curious! At least I can grab the key to the door."

She notices that she's now too big to fit through the door and is about to cry again when she sees Cotton running through the hall.

"Oh the Duchess! The Duchess! Won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!"

Emily is so distraught that she's willing to ask Cotton for help.

"If you please sir-"

Cotton though gets so spooked he just scurries off into the darkness without saying a word. Emily has a crisis.

"Who in the world am I? Ah that's the great puzzle. Surely I'm not James with his fancy uniform and new school books. After all he is he and I am I."

Unbeknownst to her she had put her hand through one of the gloves Cotton dropped.

"How ever is this possible? I must be growing smaller again."

By the time she finishes shrinking, the golden door is closed again. All of poor Emily's tears were enough to wash her and several animals away. It was not until they had all swam to shore that no one knew how to get dry. There was a long debate when a dodo named Gordon stepped in.

"We should have a Caucus race."

Emily of course had never heard of such a thing.

"A what?"

"Why the best way to explain a Caucus race is to do it."

Gordon proceeded to make a weird circle, organized everyone all over the course and refused to name a winner until after a great deal of thought was put into it.

"See. Everybody has won and will receive prizes. She will give them to you."

He points at Emily and she scrambles to find anything that could be used as a prize.

"I have a box of confectionaries. There's enough for everyone to have a piece."

She hands everyone a prize from her box until they realize she has none left. Gordon looks at her.

"What's left in your pocket?"

Emily takes out a thimble. Gordon outstretches a feathered arm.

"Hand it over here."

When she does, Gordon makes such a serious speech about offering Emily's own thimble as a prize, it was all she could do to not laugh. Instead she solemnly bows as she accepts the thimble back.

She observes the animals try to confectionery that they "won". While it took a lot of trouble, eventually they had all moved on from the matter and took up a conversation. However once Emily brought up her cat, everyone all left in a hurry.

"I wish I didn't mention my cat! Now I'm all alone again."

She buries her face in her hands. Suddenly she starts to hear someone speak.

"Duchess! Oh Duchess. She'll have me executed as sure as ferrets are ferrets. Oh where ever can my gloves be?!"

Emily, being kind hearted, tries to find them when Cotton points at her.

"You there! Fetch me a pair of gloves from home. Quickly!"

Emily does as he says without even giving herself a chance to explain. By the time she gets to Cotton's house and finds a pair of gloves, she sees another bottle with a "Drink me" label.

"Oh how I wish to be bigger again. I'm quite tired of being so small."

Emily starts to drink the bottle when she hits her head on the ceiling.

"I wish I hadn't drunk so much. I can't get out the door!"

At this point Emily can hear a lot of commotion from not only Cotton but also his servants. They had attempted to remove her from the house by force for poor Emily had grown so large, her arm had gone right through the window.

"I'll put a stop to this!"

To Emily's surprise a bunch of pebbles were being thrown at her. To an even bigger surprise the pebbles started turning into small cakes.

"Yes. This should help me get small again."

She eats one and it does exactly that. Once she's small enough she flees the house.

"There she is! After her!"

They had all started to chase Emily, but she managed to run away deep into the thick wood. She ran for so long that she only stopped when she saw a mushroom growing close by. She goes over to it and is shocked to see a large blue caterpillar smoking.

"Who are you?"

This begins a long back and forth involving Emily trying to remember who she is. The caterpillar named Edward simply tries to recite a poem but to no avail.

"No. That's all wrong."

"Yes. It's all wrong from beginning to end."

Edward goes back to smoking for some time.

“What size would you like to be?”

“Well I would like to be a little larger, sir, if you wouldn’t mind. Three inches is much too small.”

Edward huffs.

“Much too small indeed! It’s a very good height.”

Emily watches Edward rise to his full height which she realizes is exactly three inches.

“I’m not used to it.”

“You’ll get used to it in time.”

Edward begins smoking again. Emily waits for him to finish which takes a couple minutes. He eventually moves off the mushroom and crawls away into the grass.

“One side will make you larger. The other side will make you shorter.”

“The other side of what?”

“Of the mushroom.”

With that Edward had vanished into the grass. Emily begins to ponder what side of the mushroom will do what. There is a long amount of time spent on experimenting with one particular instance involving scaring a pigeon who had mistaken her for a serpent.

“Come now. Surely there must be some way to go back to my normal size.”

Eventually, she finds the right combination and finally returns to her normal size.

“Now all I need to do is to get into that beautiful garden. But how?”

Suddenly she sees a Cheshire Cat sitting in a tree. It grins as soon as it sees Emily. She decides to get closer.

“Can you please tell me which way I should go from here?”

“That depends on where you want to go.” 

The Cheshire Cat named Henry waves his right paw.

“In that direction lives a Mad Hatter. In the other direction lives a March Hare. No matter who you choose to visit, both are mad.”

“But I don’t want to visit mad people.”

Henry grins.

“Oh you can’t help that. Everyone’s mad here.”

Emily groans. Henry keeps staring at her.

“Do you play croquet with the Queen today?”

Emily looks up.

“I would like it very much but I haven’t been invited yet.”

“Oh then you’ll see me there.”

Before Emily can say anything, Henry disappears. She decides to travel along the path taking her to the March Hare.

“I’ve seen Hatters before but perhaps because it’s May this March Hare won’t be so mad.”

Eventually, Emily comes across a very bizarre house with the March Hare having a tea party. Percy pours Thomas the Mad Hatte​​r some tea as John the Dormouse sleeps in between them. They banter about until Thomas starts to tell the story about singing for the Queen of Hearts.

“I was asked by the Queen of Hearts to sing ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!”

Thomas keeps singing long enough for John to start singing in his sleep before he is pinched by Thomas and Percy.

“Well I had hardly finished the first verse when she had bawled for my head to be off.”

Percy yawns.

“Perhaps we should change the subject. How about we let this girl tell a story?”

Emily looks down.

“I’m afraid I don’t know any stories.”

Thomas pinches John.

“Dormouse, tell us a story.”

John splutters as he wakes up.

“Alright I’ll tell a story.”

John proceeds to tell a nonsensical story that eventually features treacle. Emily is so fed up she gets up and leaves.

“That was the stupidest party I’ve ever been to! I’ll never go back there again.”

Emily continues to walk until she comes upon a large rose garden and three gardeners trying to paint some roses red. Mike, Rex and Bert were arguing over whose fault it was that some red paint was spilled.

“Excuse me.”

They all stop to look at Emily.

“Why are you painting those roses red?”

Mike sighs.

“We had made a horrible mistake and brought the queen a white rose tree instead of red roses. Oh she’ll have our heads cut off.”

Rex lets out a panicked gasp.

“The Queen! The Queen!”

Frankie, the Queen of Hearts appears with Hurricane as the King of Hearts. Everyone’s afraid of her loud, shrill voice. At every misdeed, no matter how minor, she clamors for their head.

“Now then. Can you play croquet?”

“Yes!”

“Well come on then!”

Everyone follows Frankie to the croquet field. The mallets were live flamingos and the croquet balls were hedgehogs. It’s obviously rigged to avoid Frankie’s wrath. Then everything goes wrong once Henry arrives. He plays a trick on Frankie drawing her ire.

“WHO DID THAT?!”

Henry fades into existence and points at Emily.

“Why, she did.”

A large commotion is caused and Emily finds herself on trial at the request of Hurricane. Poor Emily gets framed for damage caused by the commotion ending with jam being spilled on Frankie.

“Off with her head!”

Emily eats some mushroom to make her big and picks up the cards.

“Oh poo. You’re nothing more than a bunch of cards”

As she confronts Frankie she starts to shrink back to her normal size again. Henry appears and repeats the exact insult only to disappear again.

“OOOFF WITH HER HEAD!”

The poor girl runs in so many directions to escape the cards until she’s woken up by Molly.

“Emily, wake up. Have you heard a word I said?”

“Oh. I’m sorry Molly.”

Just as Molly’s about to scold her, she simply rolls her eyes.

“Never mind then. Come on inside. It’s time for tea.”

Emily gets up and follows her back to the house glad that her dream was only that. Just a dream made by a little girl.

AN: Sorry I've been MIA so long. I've been working on a request by @wisetalekid. I hope you like it.

[boomerroomer]

A sneak peek! :)

Buddy rolled his when hearing that his cousin Cendy had once again landed himself in prison

Of course he did..this has to be the 9th time he's been arrested

Daisy: 10th time actually but yeah apparently he's gonna be stuck there for 18 months though considering Cendy he'll get another month

His twin sister responded over the phone with sounds of her movement in the background

That or Grandpa will bail him out

Daisy: true he did just come back from Florida for "business" so I guess it's possible

Buddy hummed in agreement as he changed his position into a more comfortable one behind the hospital counter

Even after over a month, Buddy was still shocked that he was able to be a practicing nurse in a small neighbourhood called Welcome Home he honestly thought because of his family's criminal past and how his grandpa and grandad were the most feared and powerful people in the mafia that his hard work to become a doctor would be for nothing He'll end up either working for his family or getting another job though Buddy had a feeling that he was accepted Because of his crazy family

A toothy grin spread across Buddy's lips as he remembered a bet they all made after Cendy was released from prison Speaking of jail how long did he last ag-

He didn't get to finish that sentence an annoyed groan from over the phone interrupted him

Daisy: yeah yeah I know well send you the damn money she snapped mumbling something under her breath Buddy couldn't make out but he assumed it was an insult

Oh don't be like that you know what Mom says about a sour loser Besides losing one time isn't gonna kill you

Daisy: oh shut up!

Buddy was about to respond but the words died on his lips when he saw Fanny, Bea, and Jonsey rushing to the front desk with a labouring Julie in the older brother's arms

Buddy: oh boy..hey listen I'll call you back a patient just came in he quickly said before hanging up

Bea: we need a doctor! Are sister is in labor!!

OK, OK, calm down. Everything is going to be fine. Can I get your information miss? I instinctively pressed a red button to call the nurse

Fanny: how the hell do you know!!??

Julie: Fanny! Calm down blond woman the hippie man's arms answered Buddy taking a deep breath each time she talked

Julie; m-my name is Julie Joyful and my husband is named Wally Darling or Wally Joyful I live in a neighbourhood called Welcome Home in the 5th house and my best friend is named fr-

Bea; Julie too much information She turned a bit redJulie: oops sorry I have a bad habit of that she sheepishly said flinching and holding her swollen stomach tightly as another contraction hit her

Oh, no need to apologize. Just keep breathing. How far are your contractions?

Fanny: every five minutes in 2 hours

Buddy frowned a mixture of worry and confusion clear on his face that was far too close to just coming to the hospital Why didn't you guys come much earlier

Fanny: oh, because this dumbass thought it was a good idea to get high on mushrooms while we were shopping for groceries!!??

Jonsey stayed quiet at this point as he was still under the effects of the mushroom, giggles softy and spoke up Jonsey: oh relax my dear sister it's not a big deal he slurred

Fanny: IT IS A BIG DEAL. YOU DIDN'T NOTICE JULIE WAS IN LABOR FOR HOURS UNTIL WE CAME BACK BECAUSE YOU TO BUSY TRIPPING!!

Bea quickly tried to calm her sister down so as not to have another public outburst under their belts but unfortunately, it was already too little too late as Fanny was already tearing Jonsey a new one

Buddy; mi-miss I unde-understand you are upset b-but this i-

Fanny; STAY OUT OF THIS Buddy flinched when Fanny yelled at him his tail twitching nervously as it was tucked behind his leg His anxiety grows more and more as the yelling continues he wants to try and calm the situation down but his feet feel like they are rooted in the ground and the words are stuck in his throat

thankfully A few nurses came in to get everything settled down and help Julie into a wheelchair then rushed to the labour and delivery room

Julie; I'm so sorry! Fanny is a nice person just...very opinionated

Ellie: oh don't worry about it was used to this by now you'll be surprised by how much drama can happen in a hospital he reassured me but did mumble..besides if my name was Fanny ill probably he short tempted too

----

As Julie was wheeled into a room that was big enough to have two patients, a look of surprise yet joy appeared on her face when she saw a familiar face

EDDIE!!

[heliconcarpet]

Any Port in a Storm

pic source

Chapter : 2 of 5 ( chapter 1 is in here)

Relationship : Trafalgar Law x Gn!Reader childhood friend

Summary : The story timeline previously took a pre-amber lead outbreak, but for this chapter it's from three years after they moved to a New World Island, right when Flevance's incidents happened.

.

Perhaps, the time passed in the three years made you completely forget all of the traces of Flavence, Law's existence even. Sometimes you look around for distractions, mostly after school time or during the holiday break. Instead of Flevance's weather, this spring climate town is way much better. It's the prettiest town you've ever seen. The soft but vivid color of pink in this spring climate does change the color hue of your sight. Because of the spring climate, every corner of downtown is filled with flower shops. The eye-catching variety of flowers is a part of your everyday life.

There's no doubt you'd love them, but a little trigger of the daisies makes you cough mercilessly. You went to the doctor last month, got cough syrup and other colorful bitter medicine, so you naively thought it would surely be better. Alas, it never went well until the point you kept a little secret about how your throat began coughing up flower petals and blood. In the midst of being amused by vomiting the flower petals, you will probably be ready to accept any fate soon. This kind of disease is somewhat too imaginative, too fake, as it exists only in folklore. So, que sera sera.

.

Every Monday morning, in the breakfast you're in, today's newspaper is served on the dining table. For your father, read the headline news. It's like his ritual before going to work. Mostly economic, fitting his profession as a banker, and stuff like world government politics, including the marines. You are confused about how your father didn't touch the breakfast yet, yours was already in the stomach.

" Father, your breakfast has become an artefac..." You say it to him, but his loud gasp catches you off guard.

His hands were just trembling behind the newspaper, mumbling something you didn't catch. Your mother, who was confused by his attitude, started to peek next to your father. What kind of madness was he subjected to that made him this noisy? It's Monday morning when you stepped into the last chapter of your memory line about the Trafalgar Law.

" I'd a sneaking suspicion that the WG had gone insane! " said your father, covering his face with a palm full of palms. If there are no language restrictions at the dining table, he already shouts the swear words.

" That's a lie! What a hoax is that? Why was there a novel virus living in the Flevance? Why was the WG so wicked to demolish it? " Your mother said it in a somber tone.

She is trembling and immediately runs to grab dendenmushi in the living room. During the dial, she shouted and repeated the name. It's the Trafalgar family. The Trafalgar's name you heard was crystal clear. It keeps beaming, filling up every fiber in your auditory canal. Your guts tell you the worst scenario from their pattern, something happened in Flavence, and of course, it's about Trafalgar as well. The dial your mother made has never reached them ever since.

From across the room, you could listen to the lyrics of the song that became your father's current favourite. It plays on the moderate size of the dendenmushi, which has a form like a gramophone. He shamelessly replays it every time at breakfast, it makes your ears bleed. But in this case, a song didn't bleed your ears out, your heart did. The sudden and devastating Flevance news bruised these three people's hearts.

Earth angel, earth angel

My darling dear

Love you all the time

Earth angel, earth angel

The one who I adore

Love you forever and evermore

It's Monday morning, when you perform to vomit the bright yellow with the hints of orange color from marigold petals mixed in the trickle of a vivid blood red. Such poetic, vivid colors even subdued the horror of the disease. A yellow marigold is well known to represent the sun's bright light, it brings zest to the person. Others have said that the marigold has also come to represent the despair of love caused by the death or brokenness of a relationship with someone we care about.

A marigold, the birth flower of Law's.

______________________

Long after the post-Flevance, an amber lead outbreak, Flevance lives as the vanished white town it had forgotten about. The WG seriously banned people who still talked about what was happening there. Many years later, when the winter passed and the ice melted in a river full of cherry blossom petals, no one knew that only one young boy had survived, and through 'a cursed name' he'd be ready to set the storm.

_____________________

.

.

Lyrics by The Penguins

[savorysatori]

— 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. ✗

“choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me.”

— sypnosis: working as a maid in a new house is very exciting, you get the money and everything goes well. although, once you’re introduced to the son of the parents, everything goes down hill.

cw, warning: size kink (?), creep!ushi, pictures without consent, nipple play, gn!reader, non-con, somnophilia, sloppy sex, dry humping, praise, panty stealer ushi.

% wc: 2234.

↷ a/n: y’all have no idea how long this was sitting in my drafts, for fucking 5 weeks plsssss- anyways I hope you all enjoy! this was rlly fun to do. also! shoutout to daisy, this collab was really cool! congratulations on 1K bb. <//3

— @daisy-bakugo, PORNSCAPE EVENT! ilyy.

You were everything he wanted, everything he fantasized about.

[1,000.]

That’s how much they were paying.

It was enough to have you accept the job immediately. It was enough to have you choose between two of the slightly revealing maid dresses and enough for you to be standing in front of the wakatoshi mansion. Briefcase in hand with a bucket of supplies you were instructed to bring. Everything was just right, you were prepared to clean, everything would go well.

The frilly material of the skirt swayed around your thighs and glided against the softness of your thigh-highs. Glistening jewels of your gold bracelets glimmering in the hot sun shining down on your skin. The thin line of thread held up the damp clothes, shredding any of the excess water soaked into them. All of the Wakatoshi’s clothing were fancy. Gold lining stitched in the middle or at the end of the cloth, it was clear they were wealthy. But, it somehow amazed you when your eyes glided to the very end of the line — some shirts & shorts were childlike. Pictures of guns and cars were painted onto a black shirt, it looked like something a 5th grader would do. ‘Maybe they had a child?’ You didn’t know, you only met the parents. Folding up the dry ones, you’d stuff them into the cart and push them towards the other line of clothes swishing in the breezy wind.

You finished doing the daily chores, slipping into their kitchen that was designed well with a beautiful interior. Cold marble was felt up against your skin as you tipped the bottle of wine into your glass, clacking against it. Your glossy lips propped up against the cup and took small sips of the fruity flavor. It slid down your throat and surged a zing of bitterness back up to take in the taste, so sweet and yet so unpleasant at the same time. You’d lick the juice off your lips and place it down steadily on the counter, looking up to see a heady gaze sharped on you.

6’2 and steady build towering over you with dark olive hair — was the wakatoshi’s son. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your body stayed still, unmoving. He wasn’t anywhere near a 3rd grader - more like a full grown adult. Tongue peeking out from your teeth to lick the dryness seeping between the cracks, your eyelids hooded.

“Uh- Hello! You must the wakatoshi’s son, I’m the new maid.” Extending your hand out to meet his; his hand stayed at his side, not seeming to shift to engulf yours. You’d drop it back beside you and nipped at your lip when the silence between you both continued.

“Well, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you.. Ushijima! Your parents told me about you.”

You’d excuse yourself away from his intimidating gaze and close the door behind you. Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce myself another time.

The same look from before followed you out of the kitchen, watching you as you’d take up the laundry basket. His eyes kept gawking at your every move. Staring with every bit of emotion nobody could decipher, Toshi wasn’t a very talkative man and it was visible. He situated himself in the shadows and looked from above, staying out of any scandals his parents were exposed to. He did keep his eye on you. Stepping out of his secure area and making every note to try and approach you without seeming like a creep. His creep intentions did creep up back into his system when you started staying at his house, sleeping in a guest room 8 feet away from his room. It was easy; so easy to sneak into it when the moon raised in the dead of night.

Soft thuds of his feet against the carpet thankfully didn’t alert anyone, giving him the time to steal peeps at your sleeping state. Comforter pulled up. Oversized shirt to cover up the intimate parts of your body he dearly wanted to explore. Soft breaths left your pink lips to breathe it in again, his cock stirring at the sound of it. Toshi knew what was right from wrong, he knew that doing something like this would cost his life — but, dear god you were everything he dreamed of. He couldn’t stop now.

His calloused hands raised the shirt for him to be able to see your tummy, sliding his fingers down to the waistband of your panties. They were so simple and adorned your skin beautifully, keeping the heat between your legs warm just for him. His free hand unzipped his jeans and let them pool at his ankles, such as his boxers. You stirred slightly at the foreign touch, brows creasing forward. He stilled until you relaxed back into slumber, his fingers separated your thighs, and slowly slid the oozing head of his cock between them.

“Ah, princess, f-fuuck.” breath ragged, eyes shut closed to take in the bliss. Contentment streamed through him, his hips rocking against you to feel more, more of you. He was greedy. Toshi was insatiable, he wanted everything of you. He didn’t just want — he needed you. It was a plea. A whine for you, a need. The selfishness ran through his family, that’s how he inherited it. From his family. Was he ashamed? No. Not when you felt so good right now, not when he was about to reach the orgasm he was climbing to.

Sweat fanned down his toned chest, abs glistening with droplets of precipitation. His hips rocked forward one last time, cum spurting from his head and between the soft flesh of your thighs. It was sticky and slimy, rolling down to cover every little spot.

The sight of you sleeping soundly while his cum leaked from between your thighs, made the flaccid touch of his cock stir. You were just so pretty, a pretty little something he wanted to scoop up for himself. And he would do it with no trouble whatsoever. His hand slid down to grab his phone from the floor, lying face down. Toshi aimed right in the frame, snapping a picture for later. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and scurried away from your room, not bothering to clean up the mess of his dry cum smeared on you.

Pressing the ‘start’ button you watched the clothes in the machine swirl with bubbles of soap clouding over them. One hand on the machine and knocking it occasionally to make it turn on again. “Barely working.” You’d mutter.

Despite the Wakatoshi’s being filthy rich, their laundry room wasn’t at all cooperative. There were brown pieces of wood peeling off the wall with stains of what seemed to look like dry substance splattered on it. A bunch of plastic bags and socks were pushed to the corner of the room, dirty ones to be exact. Not much laid in the room other than the things you had listed — except for the posters of lewd manga hanging from the cluttered shelves.

The cool air of the basement door opening brushed up against you, your eyes drifting to see who it was. Standing there was Toshi. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. His expression was the same as always, stern and uninterested. You were both met with the silence from yesterday, uneasiness creeping up back to you.

Bothering not to talk, you turned back to the machine to see it at twenty-one minutes. It was almost done and you could leave to wrench away from the awkward silence you were sitting in. You could still feel his presence, you knew he was there and it was uncomfortable. So many questions were left unanswered in your head, you couldn’t understand them.

The back of your skirt was flipped up to meet your back, his clothed length pressed against you. He was hard. There was no doubt he wasn’t big, and that was what made your eye sockets almost swell out. He slowly rocked the fabric of your panties along with his bulge. Fingernails digging into your hip and pushing you up more to gain more access and spread your legs.

“Ushijima-“ words of confusion scrabbled out from your mouth quickly, “w-what are you doing?”

“Shh.” He jabbed the curve of your back and made you lay pressed against the cold exterior of the rattling washing machine. His words flustered you, it provoked you to stay quiet. You had never heard his voice before and a situation like this only shook your brain into a deeper hole of complication. “J-Just — let me do this, let me try it out. Once.”

And you did. You let him try it just once, you let him delude into the fantasy he had been dreaming of. You let him do it. Once.

You calmed down from the aftershock of his tongue sending you to see stars, arms jerking when the feeling of his hot touch pressing your face against the door of the machine. Your fingers tightening around the handle and pulling on it slightly, cheeks swelling up with heat. The sounds of your whimpers and tiny jolts sent him to push along more, arm encircling around your stomach, his voice breathy against the shell of your ear. You were like a succubus, a being he couldn’t leave nor escape, so alluring, sweet and he had just met you not too long ago.

The smack of his cock meeting his stomach caused you to crank your head back, looking over to see a beautiful sight. Ushijima’s cock was thick, curving gently upwards. The skin was a light shade of cream, and the head was large, pink, expanding tip. “Ushi-“ your voice was wavery, unsure paring with it.

He’d shush you again, angling your leg up as his lips pressed a kiss to your glistening cunt. Toshi took notice of your expressions when he slid into the warmth delves; brows creased together and little words scampering out from your lips. Latching onto the handle and pulling it ever so often when he hit a certain spot, whenever the tip of his cock caressed against your cervix- it was so beautiful seeing you be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess. A surreal sight he would only see.

“You’re so damn tight. So wet, so willing.. just like that baby.” The pump of his hips made you lose yourself over and over again, a mixture of sounds that were all kinds of slobbery and slurred due to your dizziness. His pace picked up with renewed energy, slick and wet sounds fill the air, sweaty bodies clamping against each other. The whines and pants of his name being drowned out, so pathetic- clinging to the latch and crumbling under his touch. It drove him like a mad man, his brain clattering, the way you took him in with no problem amazed him, you were so inviting and supple.

“S’too b-big! Ushi- ah! -“

The whines of him being too big impaled itself into his brain, your shivering body and cunt wrapped around all together had already made him blank out, now with your pleas, it caused a switch in his head to flip and jack-hammer himself into you. Pump after pump. It made your eyelashes flutter with droplets of tears risking to stream down the fat of your cheeks. His hands holding you firmly, brows furrowed with grunts flowing into your right ear. A grunt rippled from him as his cock throbbed harshly inside you, the feeling making him come undone right there.

“Just like that, ah, fuck you make me feel so good.”

Wrinkled skirt falling to the floor, his cock pulling out of you slowly with globs of cum dribbling out of you, he’d shuffle around till you faced him fully now with a perplexed look on your face. The shirt becoming loose as Toshi’s lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple, suckling and easing any leftover moans out from your throat. His hands placing you on the machine and attaching his lips back onto your nipple, tongue flat against your sweaty skin.

“Fuck, U-Ushi! holy- fuck, just like that.” Your back straining as you leaned back, gasping and threading your fingers through his hair to balance. Toshi wasn’t one with words, his statue being quiet and still. But, words poured out from his lips at the sound of your moans, when you were so good for him.

“So, good.. pretty. pretty, like a beauty.” He pulled off of it with a squelch, standing up high and cupping your chin to stare in your love drunk eyes. “You were so good for me, yeah?”

You nodded, vision hazy and eyes occasionally blinking to peer up at him with a blurry image. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, sniffling as he picked up the soiled panties from the floor and stuffed them into his back pocket. They were red and pink, swirly designs on them, he found them so cute. He slid your legs around him and walked out of the room, leaving the washing machine to rattle in the background with soap and water overflowing onto the ground.

Ushijima just couldn’t leave you after that day, he stuck to you like glue. Who could blame him? You were everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about.

[ghostofstudentspast]

Something about her

Sirius x Veela!Reader

I’m writing this more from Sirius’ POV which is new for me so don’t be too harsh 💕

For the third time in the same class Sirius caught himself staring at the shiny head of hair two rows in front of him. The way your delicate hand ran through the soft locks made him want to reach out his own fingers and tangle them in your hair. He only snapped out of his trance when James kicked his foot under the table causing his gaze to snap to his friend in a glare.

“Mr. Black, if you would be so kind to keep your eyes on your own work.” Professor Mcgonagall’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Sorry Professor,” Sirius turned on his signature smirk and turned his attention back to the front of the class where she stood with her arms crossed. He watched you turn in your seat ever so slightly to sneak a peek at the disturbance and raised one eyebrow at Sirius with a small smile playing on your lovely lips. He purposefully caught your eye and sent you a cheeky wink causing you to laugh silently and shake your head before turning back to your parchment.

“Padfoot you never get this hung up on a girl, I don’t get it,” James nudged his friend later that day as the group of boys lied splayed out under their favourite tree on the grounds.

James was tossing his snitch up and down as his signature activity. Remus had a book clutched between his fingers and seemed oblivious to the ongoing discussion. Meanwhile, Sirius was entertaining Peter by scorching explicit drawings into the grass beside him with his wand.

“She is very pretty,” Peter piped up from beside him and followed Sirius’ gaze to where you could be spotting laughing with your own group of girls.

“Sure, but lots of girls are pretty,” James rolled his eyes, “hasn’t changed anything for our dear old shaggydog has it?” his gaze flicked back to Sirius with a small smirk.

“Just because you’re too in love with Lily to notice other girls doesn’t have to put a damper on my emotions Prongs,” Sirius snorted and started on drawing a little dog in the grass.

“Yeah but why her?” he pressed, as if they hadn’t had this conversation before.

“Everyone in our year fancies her!” Peter chimed in again with big eyes, clearly trying to appease both boys.

“And everyone in the year below,” Remus added to the conversation without looking up from his book.

Sirius shifted his gaze from the ground back to your little group. You weren’t too far away, if he wanted to call you over he could. The thought popped into his mind suddenly as one of your friends pointed at the marauders and your head turned to face the boys, once again locking eyes with Sirius. One of your friends whispered something to you and your face suddenly lit up with a gorgeous sunny smile as you let out a laugh that almost melted Sirius’ heart on the spot.

“Hey Y/N! Come here!” Peter suddenly yelled over at you and both Sirius and James stared at him in shock.

Peter was never the loud one. Never the one to surprise the boys. And yet somehow, he was the only one in the group who had the balls to call you over. Sirius watched you stand up from your spot on the grass and walk over, a slight bounce in your step leaving your giggling friends behind. Peter’s face was red, and he immediately dropped his gaze to the ground in front of him and started picking at the grass with his stubby fingers. Remus was peeking over the top of his book with interest as you approached the boys with a sweet smile.

“Hey guys!” You grinned, Sirius had never noticed how bright your smile was. At the same time he noted how your canines were slightly more pointed even than his. “What’s up?” You drew his attention back to the present.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Peter almost tried to sink into the floor as you looked at him for a moment with a questioning glance. When it was clear Peter had nothing to say, Sirius decided to speak up on his behalf.

“Pete just wanted to know how you did on the Transfiguration quiz today, we’re debating if you’re smarter than Remus.” A lazy smile occupied his face as you let out a soft chuckle.

“I did alright, but I know for a fact I could never be as smart as Remus,” you smiled at the boy next to Sirius whose ears turned a bit pink as he shot you a sheepish smile and disappeared behind his book.

“Well I know for a fact you’re smarter than me so maybe you could help me study sometime,” Sirius’ cocky personality coming back easily even though his heart sat in his throat every time he spoke to you.

“I’m sure you’d do a lot better in class if you applied yourself,” you smirked slightly and glanced down at his wand, “you know, if you studied instead of violating the grass.” You nudged his foot aside with your own to uncover a crude drawing of Snape.

“Alright, fair enough,” he barked out a laugh and pointed his wand at the grass in front of him, a daisy rising out of the earth this time. He plucked it and stood up to stand in front of you and felt a rush of confidence, “Go on a date with me instead. No studying required.”

He’d never seen you blush before, especially because of him. Sirius decided winning the house cup wouldn’t make him feel any happier than the sparkle in your eye and the pink tinge of your cheeks did.

“Alright Black, meet me by the greenhouses at ten Friday evening,” your chin tilted up almost challengingly as he towered over you by about a head, “After all, I know you don’t have a problem sneaking around after hours.”

“It’s a date,” Sirius winked and tucked the daisy he was still holding behind your ear, pushing your hair back in the process.

“See ya later boys,” you grinned as you backed away from Sirius with a little wave at the rest of his group.

Turning on your heel Sirius stayed standing as he watched you walk away back to your friends with a dazed look in his eyes. You turned to look at him one last time with a little pink still evident on your cheeks. Sirius flopped back onto the ground with a content sigh and looked around at James who was watching the entire exchange with an open mouth.

“How did she do that?” James finally prompted with an incredulous look.

“Huh?” Sirius shook his head, “that was all me darlin,” he snorted.

“No Sirius,” Remus chuckled lightly, “that was all her.”

“Who knows, there’s just something about her,” Sirius grinned and leaned back on his elbows, still looking your way.

James let out a laugh at Sirius’ blank expression as Remus sighed and tucked his book back into his back. Peter was still staring at the ground, his blush finally fading.

“You don’t know?” Remus looked at him with a piercing gaze, “She’s part Veela. Apparently, it runs in her mother’s side of the family.”

“Now it all makes sense!” James exclaimed in triumph and continued tossing his snitch up in the air, satisfied with his answer.

“Yeah but you don’t think…” Sirius trailed off and looked over to where your group had vacated their spot on the grass.

“No, I mean, she definitely likes you.” Remus reassured him as Sirius grumbled to himself and went back to angrily scorching things in the grass.

It made sense. Why he was so extremely drawn to you wherever you went. Why every boy’s eyes seemed to drift to you when you walked by them. Why Peter had the sudden confidence and urge to call you over just now. Was that the only reason he liked you? Did you manipulate him into liking you? He wasn’t so sure anymore. He was however determined to find out this Friday.

The classes leading up to your date seemed to creep by. Sirius spent half the time psyching himself out about being too excited and the other half questioning whether he even had any say in his emotions. On the fateful Friday he kept bouncing his leg under the table to the point where Peter asked him if someone had cast a jelly legs jinx on him.

When ten finally rolled around that evening he was striding towards the greenhouses with a nauseous feeling in his stomach. He’d barely been able to finish his dinner that evening and was just about to hurl up what little he did get down. You were leaning against the glass greenhouse nonchalantly, dressed in a muggle jumper and jeans his heart rate only sped up. When you finally noticed him, a smile took over your face and Sirius suddenly forgot all about his worries and his nausea melted away.

“Hi,” You sounded almost shy as Sirius approached you.

“Hey,” he heard himself speak, almost sounding out of breath.

“I want to show you something,” you smiled and held out your hand. He took it without hesitation as the two of you walked down the grounds.

You asked him about how classes were going and about some of his latest pranks with James. He happily told you stories of the marauders and you barely stopped laughing long enough to keep walking to the side of the black lake. In the back of his mind though Sirius couldn’t help but think about what Remus had told him earlier that week.

“Okay, trust me on this,” You interrupted his thoughts as you reached the edge of the grounds by walking along the edge of the lake.

“Wait, Y/N,” He tugged on your hand lightly to come to a stop together. “Remus told me something and I just need to make sure-“

“My great-grandma was Veela.” You stopped him, “People like to blame a lot of things on that.” You fiddled with the hems of your jumper and broke eye contact.

“I’m sorry I just-“

“Thought I might have been influencing your emotions?” you offered him a sad little smile, “You wouldn’t be the first to think that, don’t worry,” you shook your head, “but no, that’s not exactly something I can do.”

“Oh, well I can’t-“

“date someone who’s part Veela?” you bit your lip and looked away.

“For Merlins sake if you would stop interrupting me you’d see that I’m obviously mad about you and can’t wait to rub it in James’ face how horrendously wrong he was!” Sirius gently grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. He couldn’t stop admiring the tiny embarrassed smile that was growing on your face.

“Sorry,” you huffed and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I should’ve known you’d be remarkably cool about this.”

“Now now, don’t beat yourself up about it, you’re only supernaturally beautiful, not a mind reader.” Sirius winked and gave your hip a soft squeeze as a laugh escaped your lips. “Can I kiss you?” He grinned.

“No,” you kissed his nose and pulled away with a chuckle, “but only because you’re going to want to see this first.” You tugged your jumper over your head in one smooth motion and dropped it by the edge of the lake.

“As much as I am loving where this is going, I don’t see why I couldn’t kiss you first.” Sirius stopped himself from pulling you back into him. The tank top you wore under your sweater did little to hide your body and he had to stop looking at you in order not to actually drool like a dog.

“Oh shove off Black,” you laughed and unzipped your jeans, stepping out of them. “You coming or what?” you smirked at his baffled expression as you bit your wand between your teeth and dove into the Black lake.

“Oh for fucks sake Sirius,” he mumbled under his breath to himself as he watched the ripples from your splash calm down. He quickly stripped down as well with a shake of his head and dove in after you. Following in the direction you’d swam in.

After diving deep enough to swim under one of the large rock structures at the edge of the bounds you rose back to the surface and Sirius followed your paddling feet. As soon as his head broke the surface of the water he let out a soft, “whoa”.

It was a small cave with bright crystals covering the walls, every crystal was a slightly different shade. You drew up out of the water and onto the dry surface of the hidden alcove. Your hair was soaked and your shirt clung to your body but the grin on your face was the only thing Sirius could look at. In the glow of the cave you still outshone it all.

“Come here,” you gave him your hand and helped him up, “watch this!” you smiled brightly and touched one of the purple crystals. It emitted a low hum, you then poked a blue crystal and it hummed at a different pitch. The more crystals you touched the more it started to sound like music.

“This is insane, how did you find this?” Sirius asked once the sound had dimmed and you’d turned back to face him.

“One of the mermaids showed me in my fifth year,” you admitted and looked around happily, “it calms me down.”

“The mermaids like you?” Sirius looked incredulous, “what am I saying of course they do, everyone likes you.” he rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“Oh yeah, they always have the best gossip, they love to chat,” you looked up at him, “they think you’re very handsome you know.”

“Really,” Sirius’ cocky grin slid back into place.

“No,” your laugh bounced around the walls adding to the music, “but I think I might know someone who does.”

He tucked a strand of your wet hair behind your ear as you raised up on your toes to press your lips to his ever so softly. His arms steadied you by wrapping around your waist and pressing you to him. He could feel you smile against his lips and he couldn’t stop his mouth from mimicking yours with a slight chuckle.

“You just had to ruin a perfectly good friendship didn’t you,” Sirius muttered against your lips.

“And you ruined a perfectly good moment,” you muttered back before letting out a squeak as Sirius scooped you up into his arms and kissed you back, gently pressing you against the wall. A chill ran down his spine as you played with his curls and it wasn’t from the cool splash of water.

“You know as romantic as this was, I’d much rather kiss you without rocks digging into my back,” you laughed as Sirius set you down.

“Such high standards,” he scoffed and winked before wrapping his arms around your shivering form, “come on, let’s go get warm.”

“Last one back is a flubber worm,” you ducked out from under his arm and dove into the water with a laugh as he chased you.

“Now that’s a girl after my heart,” he said to himself before diving after you.

[my-one-true-l]

Hi there! What about Wammy boys and Light with a baby daughter? Have a nice day! 🖤

Hello Dear Anon! You got it! 🖤

L

Attends her tea parties, and yes, he wears the floppy hat with flowers on it when she puts it on his head. He’ll even wear clip on earrings for her.

He, his SO, and Little One go to the garden and make daisy chains. She likes to “handcuff” herself to daddy with them. (It must be a genetic trait!)

They color & draw together...right on top of the coffee table’s surface. (After this, He has a wall painted white so they can draw there and not “ruin the furniture” as his wife said.) Little One especially loves to color/draw cats, dogs, and dragons.

He sneaks her sweets from his secret stash. (They pretend it’s their little secret, but his SO knows all about it.)

She loves his hair and always wants to put little ponytails and barrettes in it. Sometimes he forgets they’re in there and wears them when he’s with the task force.

🖤 I actually always write/HC L having a daughter (so when I write about Little One, they’re a little girl in my mind.) 🖤

Near

Spoilers her rotten with toys and stuffies. Together they build elaborate Lego dream houses for her dolls and robots.

Colors with her. She has more coloring books than Near has robots. Her favorite is one of aliens. She always gives them bright pink skin with huge Sky blue eyes and adds little stars for pupils because “That’s what they would have because they’re made from stars.”

They paint figurines together. Her favorite is to make family members and that includes Halle, Rester, and Gevanni. (They call Halle Aunt Halle because they really think she is Near’s big sister. No one wants to correct her and Halle really likes being her “Aunt”.)

Mello

Plays dress up with her. He even lets her do his hair and makeup and paint his nails (and he looks fantastic every time!)

Reads to her every night. He wants her to love literature and books as much as he does.

They make up stories together, really long elaborate ones that are all adventure tales. They’ve even made a few into picture books He secretly hopes she will be a writer one day.

She asked for a dog and Mello took her right out to pick out a puppy.

Let’s her paint his nails. Blue and black are his favorites.

Matt

Is a huge push over. She wants ice cream for dinner? Done. Wants to go to the playground? No Problem. Doesn’t want to go to bed? What’s an extra hour…

Binges Disney movies with her. She loves Tangled and Brave.

She has striped dresses that match daddy’s shirts. They call it her camouflage because when he carries her around she blends into him.

They play video games together. Rayman Legends is their game. (Somehow it’s become Matt’s favorite.)

One time he saw her with candy cigarettes and he quit smoking cold turkey.

Beyond Birthday

Watches cartoons with her every day. Their favorites are Peppa Pig and Bluey.

She loves playing make believe and Beyond LOVES indulging that. They have a trunk of costumes that they play in regularly. Her favorite is to play pirates.

They bake together, especially thumb print cookies with strawberry jam in the middle and peanut butter blossoms.

He lets her play with his makeup. (One day her mom came home and they were both dressed like L and she was not pleased.)

Light

She’s his pride and joy, but isn’t overly affectionate towards her.

He would do anything for her (Much like his father towards Sayu). Once she’s born, she’s just another reason to continue being Kira. He wants a new world of good people for her to grow up in.

He spends time with her, like going to the park and pushing her on the swings or playing board games with her, but his work takes up a lot of his time. When he comes home she’s usually in bed, so he will peek in on her and give her a kiss on the forehead.

He brings her little trinkets. Her favorite is a ballerina made out of crystal.

At a young age, he teaches her to read (including English). She’s far more advanced than any of her peers. She’s a good mix of his genetics and his care towards her education.

[rosy-cheekx]

"Don’t do that. don’t shut me out” and / or “We can talk through the door” - from the trauma sentence starters :)

Okay so this started as a one-off but, as usual, it spiraled outwards! The actual line will be in the next chapter. (That’s right, this bitch has two chapters! AND A PERSPECTIVE SHIFT)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201191/chapters/69105681

-

It had been hard for Martin to adjust, after the Lonely, after the months of spiraling into the quiet, cold dark, imprisoned in an ever-expanding labyrinth of his own isolation. A therapist he had years ago told him it takes three weeks to manifest a habit, and in the months without his mum, without Jon, Sasha, Tim, god without even Elias to irritate his last fraying nerve, he had time to form hundreds of new habits, his habits of loneliness.

When Peter had given him Elias’ old office, under the guise of space, focus, and mental health (Martin could spit at that looking back, the cruel irony), the room had been rearranged. The desk, which had previously sat in the center of the room, with two slightly uncomfortable chairs positioned in front of it, chairs Martin had been eager to burn in celebration of his new space, had been rearranged. The room was starkly empty, the chairs removed on his behalf, and the desk had been moved to the side of the room, out of view of the door and in fact behind the hinges, so the door swung open in front of his desk, blocking anyone who may sneak a peek in his office a view of him at work. After a while, it was natural to be in the corner of a room closest to the hinges; where the coatrack or a rubbish bin would typically be, there instead was Martin Blackwood, comfortable, solitary. Alone.

The habits expanded outside of the office. Soon enough he was shopping at markets in the quietest hours: during the airings of football matches, at the early-morning markets, at two in the morning because he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get warm under his duvet. His warm conversations with cashiers and barkers turned to solemn nods and gruff thank-yous, the refreshing smiles they associated with the sweater-clad figure reduced to slow blinks and nods of acknowledgement, and then not even that. They didn’t even wonder what had happened to that nice auburn-haired man who worked “down the street at the old spooky building, did-you-hear-about-those-worms?” Even takeout was too much to bear. The nights where leaving his flat was unconscionable, his delivery requests would always add, “leave outside the flat, tip is under the doormat.”

His neighbors didn’t remember him after a while. Mabel, the kind woman who lived across from him, introduced herself to him, asked when he moved in. Eventually she stopped noticing this new auburn man she hadn’t seen before. Hadn’t seen at all, actually. No one lived across the hall from her, not in her memory. And she had an excellent memory, didn’t-you-know? It was all those crosswords.

Martin started locking his doors. That had been after Jon had returned. He knew that distinctly. Most of these habits loomed over his life slowly, like an ever-expanding fog, until he didn’t realize where they had begun, but the doors? That was a choice.

He wasn’t one for locks overall; his childhood home had forbidden them, save for the exterior doors. It hadn’t bothered him back then, though, and as he grew up and out of the shadow of his mother it never occurred to him that he could just shut people out like that. So easy, so simple, but so unnecessary for so long. Martin was the one breaking down those barriers, especially at the Institute. Getting Sasha to talk about her anger when they first moved into the Archives, her quiet confession that she had wanted that job for so long, had been told by Gertrude she was a promising candidate. That had been fixed with a cup of tea and the promise that he would support her if she wanted to quit, but that it seemed like Tim needed her, Jon too. Getting Tim to open up about Danny, his sorrow that had been simmering so long under the surface, a grief Martin didn’t quite know how to fathom. But he tried, with comforting touches and warm voice, trying to ease Tim back from the precipice over which he had been hovering. Not enough. Never enough. Even Jon had begun to be kinder to him, after Prentiss, after Martin had proven he wasn’t a waste of space in the Archives, begun to be honest and open about his take on the weird things they experienced here. He had even texted him rather frequently, towards the end, updating him on his trip to America and of the occasional sights that caught his eye (‘In Pittsburgh they put chips on sandwiches and salads, Martin, look at this! Image_0102 attached’ Even in text, his grammar was impeccable.) But after Jon recovered from his coma, lapse with death, whatever it had been, Martin had been too far gone. He couldn’t risk Jon bursting in, bothering him, worrying and fussing. So he’d called in a locksmith to install the simple bolt, enough to stop a distracted, harried Archivist (who had never quite learned it was polite to knock) from bursting into his office at all hours.

But after all that, after the Lonely and Peter Lukas and “look at me and tell me what you see,” it was hard to break the achingly comfortable habits. For the first few days in Scotland, Martin didn’t really remember what had happened. While out of the domain itself, he was still trapped in its cloying embrace, and everything felt too real, too looming, too much; it had been easy to slip into silence for hours in Daisy’s safehouse. Too easy to pull the fog around him and watch himself sit, drawn up behind the door, as he watched and listened and waited for Jon to forget about him. It had never happened though. No matter how many hiding places he found, cold and dark and solitary, Jon always found him, blanket and tea in tow (always a little too sweet for Martin’s liking), and his scalding embrace was enough to drag him back to reality, shivering and sweating, whispering apologies.

-

They needed supplies. Daisy had left behind plenty of MREs in her pantry, stuff they could theoretically rely on, but it was all very basic nutritionary needs and both Martin and Jon were vegetarians, (more or less, Martin had stopped eating red meat as a teenager and Jon entirely after working in the Archives) and the dehydrated pasta alfredo was gone, seemingly the only vegetarian item in Daisy’s stock. Martin hadn’t even tried to touch the canned fruit, the orange-yellow of the peaches haunting him.

Martin suspected it was also a desperate attempt for the pair to practice feeling normal again. To be just two friends? Companions? Coworkers? Boyfriends? people stocking up their fridge and going on with a normal, non-horror filled life. A secluded, bare safehouse was certainly not helping them adjust any quicker, though neither man had dared leave quite yet, be it the risk of losing what little security they had accrued here or the inability to leave the other alone quite yet.

“Is-Do you know if it’s busy today?” Martin had asked, trying desperately to shape his voice into calm curiosity.

Jon considered the question for a minute, expression soft, and dear lord Martin wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the way Jon’s shadows seemed to darken and solidify when he Learned, his whole form shifting in and out of focus imperceptibly like the background was blending into him and not the other way round, the way Martin was accustomed.

“Mm, not bad. No one interesting. A couple families shopping for the week, twelve customers, four employees, total-oh, fourteen, mum and son just walked in…” Martin’s eyebrow was raised. “Ah,” Jon cleared his throat. “Sorry. Fourteen people. If that’s too many, I can go by myself, you know. I’m not going to force you.”

“N-no, no. I should go. Exposure therapy, right?”

Jon had smiled warmly and tentatively rested a hand on Martin’s shoulder, before sliding the hand, scarred and calloused, to squeeze Martin’s own cold one.

-

The grocery was small, a locally run place playing tinny jazz through the speakers. As Martin stepped through the doors with Jon, he was struck by how warm it was in the store. He could feel the prickle of anxiety burning under his skin, bringing a flush to his cheeks. He could hear the whine of the electric lights piercing his skull and settling behind his eyes. He gripped the trolley’s handle tight, firmly keeping his eyes forward. He was fine, he could do this.

Martin was not fine. They had worked their way through the aisles quickly, Jon using his Knowledge to figure out where every item they needed had been located. Martin was on autopilot, quietly steering the cart and flinching when anyone came to close to him. The heat of life was radiating off everyone in the store, even Jon, and it was scalding, blinding, debilitating. He hadn’t noticed Jon asking him a question until, Jon carefully, gingerly, brought his hand to hover near Martin’s cheek, not touching, just waiting for a response.

“Martin?” he heard distantly, calling him back to reality, where fog didn’t drift over the aisles and the soft rush of waves didn’t echo in his ears.

“-mm?” The hand was gone, his skin tingled with the rush of cold returning to his face. He wished it would come back, to hold his face and promise it would be alright.

“I was wondering what tea you wanted to buy? I’m no expert and I know you have your preferences. I miss-” Jon cleared his throat. “I’ve missed your tea in the Archives. All the staff drank coffee after you left. Disgusting.”

Tea. This was something Martin could do. He took a step away from the trolley, his life raft, and studied the aisles, trying to will his mind to focus.

Tea, tea, tea. Rooibos and chamomile for sleepless nights. Herbal for variety. Jon likes caffeinated teas. Maybe some chai? That’ll be good when it gets really cold…god how long will we be here? Through winter? Forever? He could stay here forever if it meant Jon was there too.

He grabbed a couple of boxes of familiar brands, throwing them in the trolley, as well as whatever felt familiar, what he’d usually pick up.  

“I thought you didn’t like oolong.”

Martin frowned, glancing down at the box in his hand. “I don’t. Uh, force of habit I guess.” He set the box back quickly, as if it was burning his hand. “M’mum liked it so I would pick it up for her. Guess its been a while…” he trailed off, uncertain of what he was about to say. He’s bought tea since she died, hasn’t he?

He thinks back, through all his months in Elias’s office and at home.

Oh. Guess not.

Had he really not drunk tea at all? God, he had really changed more than he thought under the influence of Peter. Tea had been such a staple of his life, his personality, he was the one dragging Jon and Sasha and Tim to teahouses for his birthday and insisting he make a cuppa for everyone on the days that felt too dark. The last time he could remember holding a warm cup of tea in his hands was when he was sitting at Jon’s bedside in the hospital, reading him Keats in the desperate hope he would hate it so much he would wake up, even if just to scold his assistant.

Martin knew serving The Lonely had changed him. But here, in the aisle of a Scottish grocery, he was realizing how entirely debased he had become. Was he even Martin Blackwood anymore?

Martin blinked to see the grocery around him cloaked in fog. No, that wasn’t right. He was cloaked in fog. The world was a pale blue-grayscale, slightly translucent. He hadn’t been here in a while but the cool balm over his anxiety settled like cool cloth and he felt distantly quiet. Calm.  He left the store in a haze and began the slow trudge up to the safehouse. Jon wasn’t here in this place, which was probably for the best. Martin couldn’t hurt him here, couldn’t burden him with whatever pesky emotions he had felt in the grocery, whatever they had been. They were a distant memory now, oolong and guilt.

-

By the time Martin had hiked up the hill to the safehouse, he felt safe enough to leave the Lonely, and felt the cool numbness drift off him like steam as the world sharpened around him. With the world came the sharp sting of his realization came with it; the understanding that he wasn’t the same person he had been when he had said goodbye to Tim, Melanie, and Jon, and certainly not the same person he had been when he had backed through the doors to the Institute and let that dog in, what felt like decades ago now.

Martin Blackwood let the door swing shut behind him as he made his way inside, hearing the rumble of Jon’s car rolling up the gravel driveway. He moved quickly through the house, looking desperately for a place to escape as he heard the faint call of his name outside. He couldn’t-he just couldn’t talk to Jon right now; he didn’t know how to explain how betrayed he felt and by on fault but his own. The closest room was the bathroom, dark and clean, and pressed back against the door as he clicked the door shut, turning the latch on the door.

Click.

The bolt slid into the mechanism of the door frame, and that sound was what sent Martin spiraling.

he was alone he was alone he was alone.

[nowheretobefound101]

I Will Find You

A one-shot story dedicated to humanity who suffers fear and pure sadness because of the unacceptable truth about death.

I know how you admire this place so much. A place where you always pick up your fresh daisies and collect it in your handwoven basket. This flower field of yours is where our story began and I still remember the scent of freshly picked flowers all over your dress and hair, and also, your signature smile that never fails to enlighten my days after it.

Right now, at this moment, you give me this nostalgia just like back in the day I first met you.

I was just roaming around in this unfamiliar place until I got lost in the middle of your flower field. I am just moved in at my grandparents' house at that time, and I decided to sneak out of the house for a while to find out if something is amusing in this place. I continue strolling around until I saw you, gracefully sitting on the ground filled with daisies, sweetly humming a calm melody, and your hair flows smoothly with the air that also gave off its a vivid color like it kisses the sun.

I silently walked towards you and crouched in front of you. As you opened your eyes, I saw a great shocked in your face.

"AHHH!! WHO ARE YOU!? DON'T MAKE A MOVE." You screamed as if I will gonna rob you.

"Ohh, My bad for scaring you, I'm lost." I said.

"Your name's lost? I think your parents' had a bad taste." She giggled as she fixed her dress.

"No, I... I mean, I am literally 'lost',and Jack is my name!" I corrected.

"I'm just kidding! By the way, I'm Elsa. I see that your are the newcomer that your grandma told me for a couple of days ago." She said.

"Okay, so my grandma never runs out of stories to tell huh. But, please, I just want to go home right now 'cuz I just sneaked out in fixing my stuffs."

"So someone's getting trouble later!" She teased.

"C'mon, just help me!" I pleaded.

"Calm down you sneaky ones, I'll help you, okay, but first, help me to pick these daisies for your grandma. And yeah, if you wanted a place for yourself you can just freely visit my flower field."

"Thank you for your warm welcoming, Elsa." I said.

After we picked up those daisies for my grandma, she guided and walked me home. I never imagine that my grandparents are really closed to her. I thought that they'll gonna sermon me, instead, they were both glad and shocked that I already known Elsa.

And also, I found out where my grandma, who is so fond of daisies, came from.

Every afternoon, we are always staying on our spot in your flower field. We eat, laugh, tell some stories, collect some flowers to be sold on the market, music jamming, and even ending up taking a nice nap wherein sometimes, grandma will gonna wake us up if she minded to visit the place.

Days... Months... To years. Two people who begin and meet up as strangers, and now, I can't believe that you are my fiance.

But, Is this a right choice?

I keep regretting myself, every day along with our joys and love, not telling you the real reason why I moved with my grandparents. You only knew that I moved because I don't have parents anymore. I also told my grandparents for a long time ago to keep my secret hidden from the world I know.

I agreed to live for the rest of my years with my grandparents, hide until it ended because of my terrible fate, yet, everything changes until you came into my hopeless life. It is all coincidental and you never failed to enlighten me. Honestly, I failed too many times in love but you are something unique and special that I've never seen to anyone.

You are the only one who enlightened my hopeless heart and soul.

And the day I feared came as I passed out in the middle of the fields while we are happily collecting some daisies. That moment, my sight slowly turns blurry and I can't even feel my body anymore. As I fell through the grounds, I saw the daisies burst out in the mid-air, suddenly, I heard your voice repeatedly calling my name... calling some help, until everything went pitch black.

As I woke up, I feel so weak, I am not even aware of what day it is, and I am just catching up on my breath. I tried to look around and I saw you, sitting beside my bed and sleeping as your head placed to your arms down to my bed, I want to call your name, but, I really can't. Luckily, you noticed me awake as you feel me moved my hands to yours. You quickly stand up and sit in front of me, you planned to call my grandparents but I stopped you because I want to let you know all my regrets before my time ends.

"Elsa, I am begging you, just listen to me."

"What is it Jack, I'm here and I can hear you." I see into your eyes how worried you are and feel it on how you pressed my hands.

"I am sorry if I'd never confessed to you about this unknown disease that makes me weaker every single day. I moved to my grandparents to hide my terrible and undesirable fate to all as I wanted to shut myself out from anyone. Yet, you came into my life. I don't blame it okay, honestly, I am glad that I met you. I know from the start that I can't keep this from you forever but I just don't want to see you and my grandparents burden the pains when I left. I'm so sorry, Elsa. I am really sorry."

"Hush, my darling and just take a deep breath. I knew it already, as I observed how clumsy you are, as to how you see the world around you, as to how those medicines were in your pockets... I knew it already, Jack. When you were carried here by our fellow villagers, your grandparents also talked to me about this and on how you shut yourself so you can't see anyone suffers. Jack, I am also glad that you are the only person who showed me the beauty of falling in love, you also gave colors to my world, and you also enlighten me to appreciate the world. You had done nothing wrong." She confessed.

"If this is the time for you to take your rest... It's okay, Jack. Don't worry too much about us." She added.

"Uhm... Elsa... Ca... Can I ask you something?" I weakly said to her. I am trying my best to catch up on some air as I still can.

"What is it?" She answered.

" I know we can't stop the time, dear. I'm sincerely sorry, but, I... I just wish to see you, smiling in front of me for the last time because this is the only thing, my last memorabilia of you, that I can take for my departure. I... I know it's hard for you to--"

You stopped me as you placed your hands on my cheeks and rubbing my tears that flow in my face. I weakly smiled at you as I felt the your gentle hands for the last time.

"I'll smile for you even you don't request it from me." She answered.

As she smiled, she can't control herself from her overflowing emotions of pain and sadness as I see her cry at the same time.

I see my grandparents for the last time trying to not interrupting us. They are just silently standing, and peeking and listening through a small gap in the door. She didn't notice them as she continuously cries out.

"It's okay to cry, Elsa." I said. I just hope that I can wipe her tears back. "Thank you for making me happy within my limited time. I'm sorry if I need to leave you so suddenly. I love you as I will be waiting for you in our next lives." I smiled, yet, everything surrounds me faded little-by-little.

"I love you 'till we meet again. Sleep now, Jack." And this is the last thing I heard.

Elsa cried so hard after I left and my grandparents open the door and approach her. Then, the room is just filled with their mourns and tears around my dead body.

Days turn to weeks that passed away quickly... I can't even tell you that my soul is still wandering around in this world because I was told to finish my last mission.

From the first, it made my mind discombobulated until I see your name flash within my memory.

"You are my last mission." I told to myself.

Even though you can't see, feel, or hear me anymore, I can still able to guide you throughout your sufferings. My soul's still alive to finish my last mission because you are still believing in me.

But history repeats itself, and now, I see myself to you who shut yourself to everyone. I can only sense your agonies, fears, and sadness all over the room. My grandparents always checked you in your home, yet, you always said that "You're fine. Just leave me alone."

What should I do? I want to accomplish this mission, but how?

I remembered that you have a sister who lives in the near village with her husband. I tried to find her, however, I still don't know what will should I do.

When night came, I planned if I can able to write and luckily I have enough strength as a soul to do it. While your sister and her husband sleeping, I tried to write a short letter that I hope it may help you.

Days later, your sister saw your letter and visit you again. She opens and enters your cabin, removed and placed her winter coat into the rack behind the door, and she goes straight to your room.

She knocks on your door but you didn't answered. She called,

"Elsa, please I know you're in there

People are asking where you've been

They say, 'have courage' and I'm trying to,

I'm right out here for you

Just let me in."

But still, you have no response.

Anna calls you for another time,

" We only have each other

It's just you and me

What are we gonna do?"

And you suddenly opened your door and let your sister enter. Both of you stand beside your window that is full of daisies. You still don't make any response and Anna seems so worried about you. But, as the moment you pick up a daisy, Anna blurted out in her soft comforting voice, "Do you want to build a snowman?" After you hear it out clearly, you cried out in front of her.

I see, You made to let out your emotions again after I left at the beginning of winter.

Tears just suddenly flow down from your eyes and your sister continues to comfort you.

"Elsa, shutting yourself and burdening it by yourself is not what Jack wanted for you right? Yesterday, I found a piece of paper hidden in our picture. Do you wanna read it. Here, take this." Anna slipped out a paper and held it to Elsa.

Elsa read it loudly that the two of them can hear...

"Love can heal a frozen heart. Both of your hearts were like your daisies: Pure, innocent, and there it lies your true love. If you had read this, remember that when you feel lost through your darkness, let your daisies enlighten you towards your true love.

P.S. I will get mad if you forget how to smile :)

Anna, protect her from me okay. I'm sorry if I can't give you some chocolates this time."

"Jack's really full of fun and suprises." Elsa giggles.

"Finally, you smiled again, I hope he can see you smile like that again." Anna frankly said.

"C'mon, I know that whenever he is, he always gonna see this smile of mine." Elsa said.

"So, do you want to build a snowman, the flower fields seems to be filled up with snow." Anna joyfully asked.

"If you insisted. Thank you, Anna." And she hugged her sister so tight and Anna also hugged her back.

Anna suddenly holds Elsa's hand and rushed out because of her excitement, they run straight to the fields and dive mountains mountain of snow.

I watched you played with your sister and build a snowman, I also tried to join your fun the last time. So, I scoop a pile of snow and form some snowballs. At first, I hit you, and it was so fun that you blame Anna just like before when I still have my body. Then, I hit your sister next that makes her revenge and rained you with her snowballs.

Finally, you set me free and I also set you free.

I know you can sense me even you can't see me anymore...

For the last time, I just wanna say thank you for believing in me for no matter what reasons, and, for now, before I take step to eternity, I want you to know that I promised myself that you are the only person I'll find and love you again through our next lives, see you soon.

"I will also find you, Jack. You are the only man that I will love again in our next lives. Thank you and see you soon." You whispered and tears started to fall to you.

Did you really reply to me, Elsa? No, it must be a coincidence.

"I can sense you there like a friend I've always known. Show yourself, I'm no longer trembling." You opened your eyes and started to see me like a dream.

I come close to you and place my head into yours.

"I see, you still believe in me no matter what." I whispered to her.

"Yes, Jack. Until eternity. Can I feel you for the last time?"

"Yes, you may, Elsa. I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled as you closed your eyes and cry.

Once I closed my eyes, I cried and at the same time I feel my soul fades little-by-little.

And for the last time, I see your smile from the day I first encountered you.

Because it is the only smile that enlightened me out of my darkness.

See you soon. I will find and love you again to our next lives.

[nenelonomh]

isn't she cute?

[springmagpies]

Chapter 2: Remains of the Day

Sneak Peek:

Somewhere above him, there was a light and the blurry sound of voices. It wasn’t until that moment that Fitz thought voices could be blurry but that was the only word he could think of at that moment.

“Oh dear, is he alright?”

“I think he’s waking up.”

“He’s cute.”

“What’s happening?”

“Daisy’s brought a live one.”

“Would you all hush.”

Fitz blinked his eyes open slowly. His eyelids felt sticky like they were dragging over his eyeballs with a greater amount of effort than normal. Paired with that was a rather nasty bruise on his forehead and a thumping at the base of his skull. He felt sick and dizzy and very tired, but all that momentarily drained away when he finally got his eyes to focus. Above him was the face he had seen in the forest: the face of a corpse bride.

Read the rest on Ao3!

Special thanks to @agentofship​ for encouraging me to continue this fic!! 💕

[katlyn1948]

The Misadventures of Arry and Gendry Sneak Peek

So, this is a sneak peek of the first 1,000 words from my “Isi and Ossi” inspired Gendry fic. I have been working hard on it, and unfortualy, it won’t be up this weekend. I still have a bit more fine tuning and writing, but I hope you enjoy what I have so far!! 

PART ONE: THE DINNER

The smooth metal handle fit perfectly into Arya’s small hand. She gripped it with just the perfect amount of pressure that the knife slipped easily through the onion. The sound of the blade gliding between the layers of onion echoed through her tiny kitchen, enticing a small smile to form on the corner of her lips.

Once diced into perfectly cubed pieces, she gathered the onion and threw it into the scalding hot pan that laid on her stainless-steel stove. Goosebumps spread throughout her body as the searing sound of sweating onions filled her ears. It was the indication that the onion was soaking up the flavors of the fond left behind from her seared duck breast.

Just beside the pan laid a pot with a glaze she had been trying to perfect for the last two years of her life. This glaze was life or death to Arya, because without it, she was sure that she would never get into the culinary school of her dreams. It added the perfect amount of sweet, with just a touch of tang to send the taste buds into an endless adventure of flavors.

Without this glaze, her dish would just be another boring rendition of seared duck breast, with baby potatoes and a side of perfectly cooked asparagus. No, this sauce elevated her dish to new heights, giving it the extra kick, it needs in order to get her one step closer to making her dream a reality.

She had already submitted her dish near two weeks ago and would be hearing back any day on her admissions, but the she love the taste of her glaze so much, that she couldn’t help but make the dish. She was, of course, still analyzing the glaze; tasting it constantly to see if she could add anything else to make it even better.

Arya was placing that last finishing touches on her dish when the shrill sound of her phone rang through her tiny kitchen, causing her to nearly drop the hot pan of caramelized onions on her foot. With some hesitation she, placed the pan back on the cooling stove and crossed to the other side of her kitchen, answering her phone.

“Yes, Sansa.” Arya sighed. This was the fifth time her sister had called her, and it was becoming annoying. She could only talk about peonies and daisies for so long before just the mere mention of them made her noise tickle. She was happy for her sister and her upcoming nuptials, but there were more pressing matters on her mind than which flowers should be in her sister’s bouquet.

“Why must you sound so pessimistic when you answer the phone?” Sansa chastised.

Arya rolled her eyes, thankful that her sister wasn’t there to see her, “What’s wrong now?”

“Oh, it’s not about the wedding. I was just reminding you of family dinner on Sunday. Mother is expecting you there.”

Arya scoffed, “I haven’t gone to family dinner in almost six months. You remember the last time I was there. Mother criticized my life choices and I countered, causing an all-out war between the two of us. The last thing I need is our mother telling me that I’ll never make it in life.”

Arya heard Sansa sigh on the other line, “It’s Jon’s homecoming weekend, or did you forget?”

“No,” Arya shrugged, “But I saw Jon this past weekend when he was passing by Winter Town.”

“Why am I not surprised you saw him before the rest of us…but it doesn’t matter, mother is expecting you to be there, especially since we will be meeting his new girlfriend.”

“Fiancé.” She simply stated.

“What!”

Arya chuckled as she imagined the look on her sister’s face. She was sure it was composed of wide eyes and an open mouth, with a lock of hair curled around her finger. Her sister may be twenty-five, but she still carried a phone conversation like she was a sixteen-year-old girl prancing around her bedroom.

“Yeah came as a shock when I saw the ring on her finger.”

Sansa began to stutter as the sudden realization, “But-but…oh dear, mother is not going to like this.”

Arya grimaced at the mention of her mother. It was a common occurrence that whenever one of the Stark children did something that Catelyn Stark did not approve of, then they would feel her Tully wrath, leaving a tail of destruction in her wake. Not even perfect Sansa can cool their heated mother when something she disapproved of happened.

“So, what, Sans? So, what if mother doesn’t like it? Jon is nearly thirty, he can marry who ever in seven hells he wants!” She threw her free hand above her head in exasperation. “I am tired of her treating us like children when we are grown adults.”

Arya began to sooth her aching temple. Whenever their mother came up in conversation, it tended to leave a lingering ache in the side of her head; a constant reminder that she would ever be able to fully escape Catelyn Stark.

“Look, perhaps you should come then. Help ease the situation.” Sansa suggested.

Oh, how naive her sister could be sometimes. One would think with a degree in politics with a concentration in political warfare, she would be more less inept in such situations.

“The last thing I would be is an ‘ease the situation’ type person. I might start an all-out war!”

Sansa sighed, “Please, come. For me?”

“You’re pouting, aren’t you? I can hear in your voice.” Arya groaned before hanging her head in defeat, “Fine, but I’m bringing dessert.”

“Ooh! Are you getting it from Hot Pie’s? He makes some of the best pies.”

Arya let out a hearty laugh, “When have I ever brought a store-bought dessert to family dinner? Please…I am making it.”

“Fine.” Her sister sounded disappointed, which slightly offended Arya. “But don’t tell mother you made it, you know what she’ll say.”

“Gods forbid she admits that I can cook or that she actually likes it.”

Sansa snorted, “That’ll be the day that the seven hells freeze over.”

[bygosscarmine]

Death and the Spring Goddess...Get Detention.

a Sky High Olympus AU fic (Warren x Layla)

4750-word one shot

PG/Teen at most for suggestive references

Olympus Academy technically floats above mortal reach, so only real gods or truly powerful demigods can get there. Because arcane laws are a traditional hobby of most pantheons, there is (of course) a rule that if you can get to the school, you can go to the school. (There is, in the margin of this bylaw, a rather hastily handwritten addendum that one has to be of the appropriate age of one's species or kind. One can well imagine why.) Persephone was wholly unknown to any of the gods until she arrived on the Academy Isle--piggyback on the world's fastest-growing conifer.

The fact that it seemed to continue growing once she'd hopped off it alarmed a great many of the adults in the area. Since the staff on campus included Minotaur the Reformed, the one-eyed giant Ted, and Hel, the average person might have thought this a little absurd. The ways of the gods are mysterious.

Anyway, Persephone (sixteen and bitter) had been planning this badass entry for at least two weeks now. She just strode right into the Administration Office without a backward glance--she could clean up later. Besides, she was making a point.

"I am Persephone, a daughter of Demeter," she announced, sweeping in the door, her floral Doc Martins planting against any comers.

Except--there was no one. The school office, a sort of half-way between Grecian and Gothic style, was deserted. Actually, when she looked closer there seemed to be a crowd of bodies behind a frosted glass door across the room. Annoyed, Persephone swept her kerchief hem with a hand (the right swirl required a little coaching) and headed to that door.

Belatedly, she noticed one person who had witnessed this botched entrance. He didn't seem to be all that interested, glancing up only briefly as she moved forward, He was young enough to be a student. Still, her steps faltered slightly. When she got close enough to hear words being spoken inside the Administrator's office, she got the distinct impression that this young man was trying not to hear them.

He sprawled in his chair as if unconcerned, but there was an intent look on his face. Or maybe he always scowled like that. He had overgrown black hair partly covering his eyes, often the sign of a perpetual sulker.

He shifted slightly, and looked out the window, away from her. Something was odd about his eyes, but she didn't quite catch what before they were hidden by the angle. Anyway, she had psyched herself up this morning to not be fazed by anything, so it was just as well. She reached the inner office.

"--it's apparent to everyone he is a recurrence of Hades, I don't think that is a question."

"You can't deny a boy his education based on old prejudices--"

"Old prejudices! Don't make me laugh. It's that boy, not some previous incarnation, who called up Cerberus to terrorize the cafeteria."

"Under extreme provocation!"

Persephone winced for the boy, despite her own preoccupations. She knocked, and counted it a service.

The abrupt silence seeped like chill around the doorjamb. Then an incredibly beautiful female with an incredibly unfriendly face peeked out.

"Yes?"

"I am Persephone, a daughter of Demeter. I am here to enroll at Olympus."

The woman gave her a quick up and down, a tad slow replacing her judgment of Persephone's sense of style with a smile of welcome.

"I'll be right with you, dear."

The rumbling inside resumed, but now about Demeter, and whether she had publicly announced any children in the last hundred years.

"She said a daughter of Demeter," came the voice of the goddess who'd seen her, "not the daughter of Demeter, so it could mean anything. But she's here, so if she wants to enroll she can. Excuse me."

As she stepped out of the office, it became obvious the goddess was Venus, or at least her most recent form. No one else would have dressed just like the headless installation that dominated the artisan's quarter of the city below, so that it was obvious to anyone her body had been the model. Or maybe anyone else caught trying it would have found themselves in a world of hurt. Venus wasn't known for sharing well with others.

Persephone tried not to be starstruck as she followed Venus to the front desk. That would be embarrassing. It was especially embarrassing to be starstruck by someone's butt just because it really looked just like the sculpture.

Hades was having a pretty ridiculous day already when a second freaking fertility goddess walked into the building. Dressed like an eco-terrorist, no less. She had on army boots, but they were embroidered with daisies or something. And she was wearing them with a green sundress, as if symbolism was an art completely lost on her and she instead chose to draw a chart.

He couldn't decide if her being bony and awkward was more disconcerting or comforting, in a redheaded nature deity.

He winced when she announced she was Demeter's daughter. His adoptive mom had versed him rigorously in all his past connections (as far as history could tell them) with past incarnations of various gods, and one thing he knew for sure was that he and that goddess found ways to hate each other in every lifetime.

His bio-mom thought worrying about former incarnations was laughable, and introduced her boyfriend as her "ex-brother" just to make him squirm. Meeting Rhea had explained a whole lot about his adoptive mom's attitude, really.

While Rhea continued to do a terrible job trying to keep him in this school, he watched the other fertility goddess in the building get the young one entered for classes. Green Dress seemed to be having trouble not staring at Venus's white drapery. Well, that was the whole point of the drapery, really.

Rhea wrenched open the door and emerged to glare at him.

"If you want to stay in this school and not be put down as unallied with Olympus, you need to come make some apologies."

About ten minutes earlier, Hades had been planning to tell them all to shove it up their unnaturally ageless backends. But there was a distant sound of shouting that the new kid seemed to be ignoring with intent. She hadn't relaxed like someone who had achieved their goal, either.

Maybe he didn't want to leave just yet. He went to do the most godly grovel he could muster.

Persephone had not come to Olympus for the better school environment. She quite liked it, especially when she found out that she could skip mythology class for a fairly advanced botany workshop as her personalize elective. No, she had come to get Zeus to do something about Earth's global warming.

Olympus Academy was the only standardized route for gods to get enrolled in Olympus as deities. Unlike she had hoped, though, Persephone couldn't get to the rest of Olympus from the levitating campus. Nor did it seem at all easy to approach the gods who could help her with her petition. So, to bide her time (and prepare for her political future), she made friends with the other students--when that was possible.

When it was not possible, she tried to at least not pick any fights.

All the students were technically young, not experienced as gods, and working toward being officially part of the Olympus Alliance. There were still clearly marked cliques and hierarchies.

She'd been a little astonished to be greeted with enthusiasm by a good number of her fellow students, despite the fact that her tree had taken up permanent residence in the squash court. (Some of the more athletic students soon adapted this into the world's highest jungle-gym, and even used it to sneak off campus for lunch. Persephone could not fly and did not think she was immortal enough to just try falling, so she had accepted her admittance to the campus dorm without any regrets.)

It was only after her first few weeks that she realized all the students who had befriended her belonged to a certain class at school. They were the nurturers, earth-mothers, healers, and emotion deities. As far as she could tell, they had the most fun anyway, so she had no regrets.

Still, there was no denying the Frights (as her new friend Pom called them) were somehow cooler.

Some of the Frights were loners, but the others had a loose network. Venus's younger sister Di wasn't always around, because she was intense about her archery training, but whenever she sat down she was instantly surrounded by girls with knife-sharp eyeliner and husky voices. She was thick as thieves with Mars, though apparently blood flowed when anyone suggested they were dating. When both of them were otherwise unoccupied there was an inevitable devolvement to war games of various forms.

So the first time Persephone made an absolute fool of herself was, naturally, in front of both of them.

The day before at lunch the Frights had been playing some card game. While the penalties for losing had been violent, at least it hadn't taken up the whole lawn where people ate lunch. (The weather was always good on Olympus, unless someone had really gotten Zeus upset. This happened only every few decades, and there were bomb shelters, not awnings, inside the school for these occasions.)

Today, though, it was a glorified version of capture the flag. Some god or other with constructive tendencies had offered up two hand-built forts for the Frights to guard, because of course they had.

"Persie, over here!" called Pomona.

While war was being set up, their own group had very sensibly settled within the line of oak trees. Since these trees were sacred to several gods (some of them adults) they were well out of the range of danger.

Pom was eating beautifully arranged sushi that did not come from meal services, and Persephone sighed as she unpacked her own lunch. It was apples, cheese, and peanut butter, and she hoped Pom wouldn't notice the apples weren't fancy ones.

"Did you hear that they're going to let Hades come back to class?" said a boy who went by Jay. This was clearly some kind of nickname, but Persephone had never seen any signs of what his godhood was, and had decided it might be better that way.

"Uh, did you not know he's been here?" said the guy who was resting his head on Jay's lap. Persephone had suspicions about him, but called him Eric anyway.

"This whole time? I haven't seen him."

Jay clearly thought this was a loss.

"He's been doing twelve-hour detentions, that's why," said Eric. "I hear him sometimes coming into the dorm. He's above my room, you know."

"Who's Hades?" Persephone asked Pom in a whisper.

"You haven't met him?" gasped Pom. Persephone should have known better than to try to have a surreptitious conversation with Pom. "He's like, the Fright of all Frights."

"Obviously, I've heard of Hades," Persephone said, blushing.

"Do you think it's true he appears when you say his name?" asked another girl, and the conversation mercifully turned to gossip.

It dawned on her slowly, as hints were made about what Hades had done to to earn near-constant detention, that he had to be the guy in the Administration Office that first day.

She was just trying to remember what she had noticed about his eyes when something hit her on the back of the head.

Hades had found a good corner where he could keep an eye on everyone while eating his lunch, and not be snuck up on from behind. He didn't usually eat lunch out on the grounds with the morons at school, but the structures that had gone up for today's wargame promised havoc. It was better witness havoc than try to piece it together by hearsay.

He wasn't watching, per se, when one of the jock morons pitched an apple at the nature crowd, but he saw it.

It hit the new redhead. She didn't always wear green, but today she had either worn or sprouted a crown of flowers. In a way, that kind of thing was asking those jocks to do something dumb. On the other hand, how thick did you have to be to use a piece of fruit to assault Spring Incarnate?

Dudes who grew up thinking of themselves as gods who might make something of themselves, apparently.

He set his dry sandwich down on his tray and leaned forward to watch what went down.

"Oops, sorry, Red!" came an amused masculine voice.

At first, Persephone just stared as the apple rolled by her then nestled against her knee as if seeking comfort. Then she understood--it hadn't been an accident.

She turned to look, already knowing who had spoken.

It was Ares, Mars' hanger-on. The guy had taken to lingering by her seat after Strategic Math, and while he hadn't exactly made a move, he probably would have, if she'd allowed him to make eye-contact.

"I brought you some more lunch, but it slipped out of my hand," he said. "You really don't need to diet for me."

Since one of Persephone's problems in putting together a good lunch was from all the sports-type guys complaining if anything vegetarian was served, this was particularly enraging.

She picked up the apple, stood, and threw it so hard and fast it had only grown a branch the thickness of her arm when it hit him in the face. (If she'd popped it up, it could have landed a grown tree. Hopefully entrapping Ares in its roots forever.)

"Nice arm," said Di from across the field. When she saw that Ares was bleeding from his nose, Di came Persephone's way. "I've got it--revenge plot."

Mars, kneeling at the foot of his fort to install some kind of whittled spikes, shrugged and said, "Sure. Fury of the women?"

"Persephone on my side with that arm, and Ares on your side with his."

There was a chuckle from some of the bystanders.

"No, I don't agree," Persephone said. "Di, you all are really cool, but no, I won't. I'm not good at games like this, and I don't care enough about it to get involved."

"Guess it'll have to be a good old kidnapping then," said Mars, grabbing Persephone.

Which was a really, really bad move.

Hades had his suspicions from that first day. After Rhea had stormed out, and Hades had been signing contracts about how much service he'd do to be taken off probation, there had been another meeting--and though the administrators were just as tense and argumentative as before, it wasn't about him. They had been interrogating Venus, and inspecting the files.

Something about Persephone besides her pine tree had disturbed them. Or maybe her pine tree had tipped them off to something, Hades couldn't be sure.

Today, he got to see it.

Persephone turned into Mars's grasp, only for him to shriek and let go, and then fall to the ground covering his head. Odd.

Turning the grass to blades beneath his feet was easy. And getting out of his grasp by leaning in rather than struggling was easy.

Unfortunately, by now there was the no-turning-back bubbling of power that occasionally overcame her, and while some small part of teenage Persephone wished to stop, the age-old nature goddess part was ready to take them all to pieces.

She did not. But it was very difficult to restrain herself. There had to be an outlet somewhere.

Her power curled out, lifting her usually straight hair into a nimbus, as it reached out in a circling pattern, telling her what she could do with her surroundings. All those standing in or between the forts were shouting, running for the forts to get off the stabbing grass.

The forts turned quickly to giant treehouses, formed of revived trees--different species now spliced together and creating strange bark-encased cages around the students who had been caught in them.

At the corners of her vision she saw things morphing and changing. At the edges of her hearing she heard shouts and crying. At the horizon of her existence, she knew she was losing herself, but the fierce expanding-green of Spring did not care.

The sacred oaks grew in dimension, until the crowd of nature-types at the foot of them were all hugging each other in the tightening gap between the trunks. Why didn't the idiots run? Hades did not get these guys.

Professor Apollo, looking harried, came running toward the meadow. He cast a look around, a white beard sprouting from his face with the stress, and then he bellowed, "Hades! I know you're here somewhere. Do something!"

Hades stood up and stepped forward.

An unnatural hush fell when the grass withered suddenly to brown all around them. The trees caging the Fright jocks ceased growing with creaks and instead became quiet carved wood again, though still in the shape of terrible trees.

His steps onto the lawn seemed to echo, though he knew no one but himself and Persephone would hear them.

She had turned jewel-green eyes toward him, her floating red hair swirling with the motion. She stayed still as she assessed her new enemy.

"Hey kid," he said, and with nerves his voice came out deep and rocky. "No one's really going to hurt you. You're all right. You're hurting the trees."

Step, step, step. He felt her waiting power crackle on his skin like a lick of sun. She had been wearing a purple dress today, a little more low-key nature goddess. Now, though, it was a raiment of flower petals, all fresh and even moving as though still unfurling, with a hem of twining stems where the fabric had been edged with lace.

Hades had accepted weeks ago that he was going to be aware of what this particular student was wearing at any given time. It wasn't just that she had that fertility goddess glow--it was that her power seemed to shout at his. It made sense; it was also a real headache. Now he had to declare that clash between them in front of the whole school.

Apollo's beard had stopped growing mid-chest,  but the teacher was still clutching it in his fingers with anxiety.

But Hades hadn't been watching lunchtime battles so carefully for nothing.

He knelt in front of Persephone, and reached out to hold the edge of her dress, careful not to crush any petals but only hold the tougher stems.

"I won't touch you," he said. "If you calm down, no one will hurt you. But if you don't, I will have to stop the oak trees, and that will hurt you a lot, won't it?"

"Since when," said a crone-voice that was not Persephone's, "are you a hostage negotiator, Hades?"

He laughed. "Since my mother declared feud on Zeus two thousand years ago. And since you, Demeter, kept hijacking your daughter's destiny. And in this life, since my step-dad decided to start beating my mom."

Not Rhea. When Rhea had finally checked in long enough to notice what was going on, she had the man put away for a long time. A long, long, long time. Long enough for Hades to get very good at being a god before they met again.

"Oh my god," said Persephone, herself again.

She blinked, and her eyes were fading to blue. Then she crumpled toward the ground, nearly knocking heads with him.

Persephone had not planned on having her first meeting with Zeus in a disciplinary hearing. Her new plans had all revolved around the upcoming harvest feast. All the gods who were on speaking terms with Zeus joined the students at Olympus High for the festival, so it was a brilliant opportunity. She had been drilling herself on rhetoric for the occasion.

Now she was next to Hades in the hot seats of the principal's office, while a ruggedly fifties-ish looking man tried to charm her. Zeus hardly ever died, so he was more like fifty-thousandish. It was gross he wanted to look young. At least Apollo had the grace to look like he tanned too much.

"It's understandable to get upset," Zeus was saying, "but you really have to be cautious not to do anything in anger you can't undo."

He would know, she thought. Though she took the whole Daphne thing more personally, at least Apollo wasn't a hypocrite. Also, Apollo had self-ordered a restraining order on himself that was upheld through all his lifetimes--something she had found out when doing research in the Olympus High library for possible leverage.

Anyway, a lecture from Zeus didn't weigh much with Persephone.

It was sitting next to Hades that was making her twitchy.

"So, in punishment," said Zeus so she started listening again, "I will go easy on you, as a first-time offender and fairly new goddess, dear. Hades, you will show her the ropes on your detention, and she will serve a hundred hours alongside you."

"Sir," objected Hades, "that's work in my domain. She doesn't belong there."

"Right. Which is why she's only doing a hundred hours."

He stood up and beamed at both of them, reminding Persephone strongly of a overly peppy soccer coach she had hated as a kid--particularly for the way he made up nicknames instead of using her full name.

"Have fun, children."

Zeus winked, and was gone.

Hades looked over at her, and overlaying his default scowl there was a hint of apology.

She remembered very clearly the shock of looking into his eyes earlier, when she'd wanted to kill him for messing with her plants. One eye was warm brown, the other a black that faded to ash-grey at the center. All of her fury had seemed to sink into that dead-bone eye, as if he was an abyss that power just fell into.

"So what hell is it that you're working on for detention?" she asked, to get him to stop looking at her.

Because of an undesirable attuning to his own name, Hades had heard a great deal of gossip in the last 24 hours. Some of it between teachers.

And as he had suspected, something about Persephone really freaked them out.

Hades was used to freaking people out, himself. He even enjoyed it. All the staff here expected him to freak them out a little and acted accordingly. Apparently, though, a really powerful nature goddess was way more daunting than the god of Death.

Which is probably why they had unanimously decided to balance the two of them against each other.

At least today it was waves of Persephone's own hatred for him practically growing into a wall between them, instead of Demeter's.

The girl looked a little pale. In Zeus's presence she had bristled but now these defenses had fallen away, and she looked small.

Only looked small, though; Hades could still feel her power filling the space around them in the hallway. But a god could feel small even if they had a lot of power.

So he didn't say anything, just led her to the maintenance part of the building and down the stairs. Down, and down. Though she started to get nervous, she didn't ask why they were going down so far. Maybe she put two and two together.

Then finally he opened the door at the very bottom, its bottom edge scraping still-unsmoothed dirt, and showed her in.

"So," Persephone said, staring around at what seemed to be a glorified basement. Not really even glorified, just massive. "Did you do all the decorating yourself?"

"It's a fixer-upper. A fixer-downer? I only claim responsibility for the two thirds at the back. You may noticed a distinct trend toward shoddy worksmanship that direction. What can I say, I'm a destroyer not a maker."

Apparently, Hades had been waiting the whole time they were descending to his 'realm' only to launch into a comic routine.

"Wow, the god of death has a sense of humor?"

"Wow, the goddess of fertility doesn't?"

She stamped a boot with frustration. "What did you call me?"

"I...didn't realize that was inappropriate."

"Fertility! As if the only thing a woman and springtime and nature can be about is being FERTILE. Listen, buddy, it's not all eggs and pollen. Being called a fertility goddess is essentially writing someone off as overly feminine and therefore probably useless."

His weird mismatched eyes on her made her skin crawl. She'd been trying to fend off the sense of his cold, burying power and now she was surrounded on all sides by rock. Not just rock, dead rock. Rock leeched of nutrients and good minerals.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "Despite how it may seem, I have only the greatest regard for life and the living."

He turned away, and walked toward a distant corner of the square, cave-like place. His hands were in his pockets, but the line of his back was anything but relaxed and nonchalant. She realized after a second that he was heading toward a wheelbarrow full of heavy tools, and hurried to catch up.

Hades heard the scuffing of her ridiculous boots, shorter paces trying to catch up with his, and slowed just slightly. She didn't step up to his side, though, until they reached the spot where he'd left his gear at the raw edge of the cave.

"I'm sorry, this is rough work," he said, hauling out and offering her a choice between pickaxe and sledgehammer.

"What are we doing, anyway?" she asked.

"Enlarging hell, what does it look like?"

Why did he have to be sarcastic right now? Was it some mythic law, "All Hades will be stupid around spring-slash-nature goddesses"?

"No, but why does Zeus want you enlarging hell? Under Olympus?"

"We're not really...under Olympus any more."

"Fine, wherever we are."

He hesitated. "Just like more life is always being made...death is also always being made."

"You mean, this is literally going to become more underworld, with ghosts in it?" Persephone sounded horrified.

"No," he said. "This is my new throne-room. Gods of death don't leave when they die. Look, if you aren't going to do the bludgeoning work, get out that spade. You can shovel the debris instead."

She had an intently innocent look on her face. Hades had seen that look before--when the Minotaur dude had burst into the administration office, saying, "It won't stop! The tree is cutting into the mountain!"

The Minotaur's voice had sounded more like a squeal than speech. Hades had enjoyed that.

Now he turned slowly, and saw that a vine had started to break up the wall, weakening the stone. "Will that help?" she asked.

It was impossible.

There was nothing for a plant to grow in here. His presence in this underworld should have stopped her, made it a locus of lifelessness. But as he stared at her handiwork, already causing small stones to fall out of the wall, he also noticed that the power she'd been expending to ward him away was no longer concentrated between them.

Maybe it hadn't been hate. Maybe it was fear. Though apparently Persephone did not have much to fear from Hades.

He didn't tell her it was impossible, however, because she really didn't need any more encouragement. He started shoveling the rubble her vines were creating into the wheelbarrow, thinking this could either be the longest or shortest hundred hours of his life. He hoped he didn't screw it up.

"So what's your big goal in coming to Olympus, Persephone?"

"To end global warming. Unless you want the whole planet dead, of course," she said--with an actual smile, however barbed.

"Not at all," he demurred, scraping another shovel-full of falling rock together.

"And what about you, Hades? Something bigger than being on Zeus's team got you coming to this circus?"

"Preparing for my rightful throne, obviously," he said, waving around.

After a few moments more of her concentrating on coaxing her vines to fissure the rocks, and getting on gloves to encourage it to fall, she said, "I really can't believe I've gotten myself in trouble. Zeus may never listen to me now."

Hades didn't share that he thought Zeus had reason to worry about not pleasing her, rather than the other way around.

Not yet, anyway. After all, they had another ninety-nine and a half hours together.

[wishfulfanficing]

Walk of Fame

Carrie and Harrison see their friend honored.

“Harrison, come on, we’re gonna be late!”

“Google Maps says it takes 45 minutes to get there… we still have half an hour til we have to leave,” he grumbled from behind the bathroom door.

“Are you dressed, at least?” Carrie replied.

“Well, sort of.” Harrison opened the bathroom door; his pants were on, but he was shirtless.

“I see,” Carrie smirked. “You can’t go like that, you’ll steal the whole spotlight.”

Harrison grinned back and grabbed his wife, scooping her up effortlessly. “What, you think they’ll be too busy ogling my rippling chest to adequately appreciate Mark?”

She snorted. “No, I think they’re gonna be distracted trying to figure out why an old ass man is walking around in public half naked.”

“I’m your ‘old ass man’, dear,” he sneered, leaning in to kiss her. “I’ll put a shirt on. Besides, i thought the whole point of us getting married was to preserve my old ass for your eyes only. Isn’t that why we got married?”

“Health insurance,” Carrie said decisively. “We got married for the health insurance.”

Harrison smiled down at his wife and placed a kiss on her forehead. “That’s right…”

Their door opened and Billie walked in. “Oh my God… Dad, will you please deal with yourself and put a shirt on? We’re gonna be late.”

“Your father doesn’t care if we’re late. He already has his star, he doesn’t care that Mark is just getting one.” She winked at Harrison, then turned back to Billie. “I guess they give them out by age.”

Billie rolled her eyes playfully and grimaced as she walked towards the door. “Whatever… just put a shirt on before I puke.”

“If you’re gonna puke, do it in the hallway bathroom,” Harrison called after her, then turned back to his wife. “Wanna help me out, gorgeous?”

Carrie snickered and leaned in to kiss him again. “What’s in it for me?”

“A handsome date to an old friend’s big day?”

Carre pursed her lips as she considered his offer. “Fine,” she snickered. “But let me know when that date gets here.”

Harrison grinned and kissed her nose. “I’ll put on an undershirt, you pick out a shirt?”

“Aye aye, captain!” She giggled and squeezed him one more time before breaking out of his embrace.

He watched her walk over to their closet, not taking his eyes off her as he pulled on an undershirt. “Not the white one, pick the blue one…”

“Trying to micromanage, hot shot?” She felt his smile from behind her and turned around in time to catch his wink. “Fine, I’ll pick one of many, many blue shirts.” She pulled one off the hanger and threw it at him.

“Wrinkles, Fisher, wrinkles!”

He knew exactly what she would say as soon as the words left his mouth, and he braced himself for her remarks. God, he loved her smile. He loved her laugh. Without hesitating, he lunged at her and scooped her up. “What are you doing, crazy?” she asked, gigging even more.

“Spinning you…” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Kissing you…” He plopped her on the bed playfully but gently. “Getting you out of my way so we won’t be late.”

—

Mark was nervous. He’d never expected to get a star on the Walk of Fame, not even after Harrison got his. He knew his family would be watching, and that calmed him down and freaked him out at the same time.

Mary Lou and the kids were waiting in the makeshift backstage with him, and he knew Carrie and Harrison were in the front row waiting. The event planners had staked the front of the audience with Star Wars castmates. He couldn’t resist sneaking a peek through the curtain; like a small child in his first play, Mark closed one eye and parted the curtain ever so slightly, hoping nobody would notice, and scanned the crowd.

They were all there: George, in his signature flannel, with a sport jacket to mark the formality of the occasion. The “kids”, John, Daisy, and Billie. Oscar with his wife. And, standing together, Carrie and Harrison.

Harrison stood behind his wife with his arms around her waist; her hands were laced into his. He was kissing the top of her head, and they were both smiling. “Gross,” he laughed to himself.

— “Look,” Harrison whispered in his wife’s ear, taking a moment to kiss her temple. “Mark’s peeking.”

“I know,” she whispered back. “I see his facial hair.”

Harrison snorted and kissed her temple again. “Should we wave to him?”

She nodded. “On three… one, two… three.” The pair smiled identical jokey grins and waved.

Mark must have known he’d been detected, because the figure behind the curtain jumped and disappeared. “You know he’s gonna deny it,” Harrison said smugly.

Carrie craned her neck and looked up at him, a look of confusion on her face. “Deny what?”

Harrison laughed and kissed her, taking care not to strain her neck in a way that hurt. “Exactly.”

She smiled up at him, then settled back into his arms. Carrie sighed and watched the people in the crowd. She inhaled again and closed her eyes, taking a moment to snuggle a little deeper into Harrison’s chest. He felt it, and tightened his arms around her ever so slightly. She took another breath. “I’m really glad I didn’t die.”

Harrison furrowed his brow. “Yeah, me too sweetheart…” He expected a response, but Carrie didn’t say anything for a while.

He was starting to get concerned when he felt Carrie start laugh. “Because then, I’d have to wait five years before anyone could nominate me to get one of these fucking things.”

“Good call, beautiful.” He smiled into her hair and inhaled her scent, rocking her so gently that nobody could tell but the two of them. “I don’t think I could have coped with that.”

[ragwitch]

Birthday Cakes In Bars

Happy birthday to @idontgettechnology !! I hope your day is full of delicious treats and that this is one of them for you. <3s

Pairing: why it's Darcy/Steve shieldshock of course!!

Words: 1647

Rating: M for language and general shenaniganry

Darcy was working her way through the collection of naughty themed alcoholic drinks - she liked the name of Sex with An Alligator, but so far the Leg Spreader was her favorite - while the rest of her party hollered at the man who was rolling his stomach on the stage, slowly stripping out of his construction vest.

Darcy grinned as he revealed a little belly, furry and undefined, lights bouncing off the reflective tape on his orange vest.

Natasha had picked the venue. Called it ‘authentic’ which Darcy had squinted at until they’d pulled up in Pepper’s SI arranged limousine and the awning had declared it ‘Amateur Night.’ And it was kind of the cutest thing she’d ever seen. These guys were so earnest and nervous with the women cheering for them.

And earnest and nervous really did it for Darcy.

The construction worker - she was pretty sure he was an actual city construction worker who she’d passed on 11th in the past week or so - finished up in a pair of clean tighty whiteys, his tool belt, and work boots. Darcy giggled as she watched Maria Hill slip a twenty into the front of his belt as he thrusted and winked at her.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Darcy spun her chair to face Natasha who had slinked backstage a couple acts ago.

“Oh?” Darcy asked, and tried not to wince.

“I can see your eye twitching,” Natasha said. “Come sit at the front, please.”

She wanted to be a good sport about it, she really did. It wasn’t Natasha’s fault she didn’t know that Darcy had a perfectly good view waiting for her back at the Tower.

“I called in a favor,” Natasha said, as she pushed Darcy down into a chair at the very front of the audience.

The lights were dim on the stage as the announcer came over the loudspeaker.

“We have a very special performance tonight ladies and gentleman. A special group of fellas came all the way out to Brooklyn to make a birthday girl’s night just that much better. Daisy Lawerence-” Natasha winked at her with the name change, “-Here are…The Avengers!!”

The audience screamed behind Darcy, who sat stunned in the chair as the lights rose and a line of scantily clad men in chintzy Avengers masks stood on either side of an enormous sparkling birthday cake prop. Darcy blinked at the largest of the group. She knew that twelve pack. She’d seen it more than she really even wanted to, if that was something that could be said about Thor’s physique.

“How many favors did you call in?” Darcy asked as she realized that the men behind the masks were in fact The Avengers. Well, most of them.

And they were all thrusting their pelvises in a somewhat synchronized pattern in her direction. Sam had moves. Clint was hopeless, all flailing. And Bruce was … subdued but in time. Tony was maybe a little over enthusiastic. But Bucky and Thor were doing pretty well and Darcy was outrageously charmed by the winter soldier imitation sleeve covering Bucky’s real prosthetic.

And Natasha had choreographed something to Strange Times by the Black Keys which may not have been the sexiest song, but it was a favorite of hers and a fairly simple beat. Which Tony was adding a lot of flair to. Dear God. Pepper rushed the stage and Tony met her at the edge, squatting obscenely for her to tuck a hundred dollar bill into the waistband of his red and gold boxer briefs.

“Okay, you win,” Jane said across Darcy to Natasha, voice raising to be heard above the din of women behind them.

“Where’s the Captain?” Someone shouted from the back.

Yes, Darcy wondered. Where was Steve? She had a sneaking suspicion.

“Incoming,” Natasha whispered in her ear and then Bucky and Thor were both reaching down into the crowd to lift her up onto the stage.

Darcy tried to bury the cackling laugh as Bucky started grinding against her side and Thor turned his back to her to flex his ass cheeks in her direction. She couldn’t. It was a lost cause and she ended up snorting and hiding her face behind her hands as they traded places with Clint and Bruce. Bruce patted her sympathetically on the arm as Tony and Sam sandwiched her between both of them. Tony was grunting in concentration as he worked out an elaborate routine against her.

“Oh my god,” Darcy said, mostly to herself, trying to see through the stage lights to find Natasha.

“Up onto the cake, Darce,” Sam said into her ear, lending her a hand as she walked up the layers of the cake - red, white, and blue, with fancy little LED candles that shifted colors.

Sure enough, at the top, Steve’s shield sat, facing up, and wavering slightly with his movements below. She bit her lip as the music kicked up a beat, and the shield tilted up, revealing Steve wincing out of his Captain America cowl, blush spreading out and down his neck.

“You’re supposed to come out,” she said, trying to fight her grin.

He grimaced but started shimmying up out of the interior of the cake. The room exploded beyond them with sound, screams. Dollar bills fluttered through the air to land on the stage, and Clint was quick to crawl around and gather them up.

“Do you want to come in instead?” Steve asked, as his now extremely shiny pectorals peeked up out of the brim of the cake. She couldn’t hear much of the words but she could see them on his lips and the nervous glance he gave the audience.

She held her hand out to him and waggled her eyebrows.

The song was almost over. And the money on the stage was either going to be buying her birthday drinks or - more likely - going to charity.

Steve sighed and rose up, revealing miles of tanned, buffed, oiled skin and the smallest and most patriotic male thong she had ever seen.

“Oh god, yes,” she said, opening her eyes wide and covering her mouth with her hand. Natasha had bedazzled it. She was positive that this was Natasha’s work.

Steve’s hips were swirling, or attempting to, the motions slightly stiff and jerky. Darcy leaned into him, pressing her lips to his ear so he could hear her over the din. “You’re usually a little more into this part.”

Steve leaned back to give her a narrowed eye look before stepping out onto the first cake tier and crowding into her personal space, his thighs bracketing hers on the narrow step. He placed the shield in front of them, boos rising up from the crowd, and proceeded to raise a blush up Darcy’s neck and cheeks for the last few seconds of the song.

“Can I get a Quick Fuck?” Darcy asked, sliding up next to Steve at the bar and pointing up at the billboard above them.

Steve stared at her as the bartender nodded. He’d appeared in the crowd a safe amount of time after his debut on stage and while he was definitely getting attention from almost every woman in the bar in his jeans and stupidly fitted shirt no one seemed to connect him to her cake topper performer.

“It’s a drink,” she said, smiling at him.

He raised one eyebrow. “Natasha thinks you have a crush on me.”

Darcy grinned. “Well, we knew she was observant. That’s why she talked you into doing this?”

Steve turned his smile down to the bar and nodded.

“Well it’s a great gift, thank you,” she said, and she tapped her hip against his where he sat.

“That’s not my gift,” he said, turning on the bar stool and stretching a leg out to the empty seat next to him so she was trapped between him and the bar.

“Oh yeah?” she asked.

He nodded slowly. “My gift was going to be a private strip tease.”

“Well this may have been public but it wasn’t too far off,” she said.

The layered shot slid across the bar to Darcy and Steve signaled for it to go on his tab.

“Oh I wasn’t going to be the one stripping,” he said, his cheeks pinking even as his stare on her face made the room feel about ten degrees hotter than it had a minute ago. “But I promise you would have enjoyed it.”

“Lemme get this straight,” she said, turning and taking a step closer. “I strip. You tease?”

“I’ll do more than tease, Darce,” he said. Then he stole her drink, shooting it back with one quick motion. He set the glass back down on the bar and quirked an eyebrow, “Is that melon?”

“Midori. I’ve been drinking a lot of Leg Spreaders,” she admitted. “Wanted to stick with the flavor.”

He blinked. “Umm…Well, I had an idea but…I mean, should it wait till tomorrow? I don’t want to take advantage.”

She shook her head quickly. “Nope. No. Nope. I drank more water than alcohol and I’ve been looking forward to birthday sex all night. This super hot Captain America impersonator got me all worked up on stage.”

“Can’t have been as good as the real thing,” Steve said, forcing a frown.

“Well no, but I liked his outfit.”

“Right then,” he said, dropping a generous bill on the bar counter and standing, hand pooling heat on her lower her back as he filled up the space around her with the warm coconut smell left on his skin from the oil. “I know where to find a fairly discreet dressing room backstage.”

“Natasha is very observant,” she warned. “We probably won’t be a secret if you give me a birthday fuck in a dressing room.”

Steve shrugged. “But do you wanna?”

Of course she wanted to.