#max whips her head around at the speed of light: /'what????'/

[brionysea]

madwheeler both being cursed and having heart to hearts about their mortality and fear of death and the temptation of giving up in two of their three sleepless nights in a row. you're welcome

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Serendipity

Hii I hope you guys enjoy this one-shot about Lando finding love in the most unexpected way :)

The sun was blazing high in the cloudless sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the sparkling turquoise waters of Ibiza. Fresh off a grueling F1 season, Lando Norris was soaking in every bit of the sun-drenched paradise. He had been looking forward to this break for weeks—no race tracks, no high-pressure environments, just a week of pure relaxation and fun with a few of his closest friends. Among them was Max Fewtrell.

Lando and Max had spent the morning lounging on the deck of their rented yacht, joking around and catching up. But now, the sea was calling them, and Lando was particularly excited about taking the water bikes out for a spin.

"Come on, mate, let's see if you can keep up!" Lando teased, already mounting his sleek, black water bike, the engine humming in anticipation. Max smirked, accepting the challenge, and soon both of them were zooming across the water, the wind whipping through their hair as they carved through the waves.

The feeling of freedom was intoxicating. Lando pushed the bike faster, relishing the spray of the sea against his face. He could hear Max's laughter behind him, egging him on. But the further they sped away from the yacht, the more Lando felt like he was in his element—completely in control and free from the confines of the track.

As they navigated the waters, Lando decided to push his bike even harder, zigzagging around imaginary obstacles and attempting a few jumps over the waves. The adrenaline rush was unmatched, a thrill that rivaled the high-speed corners of any circuit. He was having the time of his life, barely noticing the narrow rocks jutting out in the distance.

"Lando! Watch out!" Max's voice rang out, but it was lost in the roar of the wind and the engine. Lando didn't hear the warning until it was too late.

In a split second, everything changed. His front wheel hit something solid, throwing the bike off balance. Lando felt the sharp jolt of impact before he was tossed into the air. Time seemed to slow as he tumbled through the sky, the world a blur of blue and white before his vision went dark.

Voices, faint and distant, began to penetrate the darkness. Someone was calling his name, it seemed like a female voice but he couldn't respond. The pain grew worse, and as much as he tried to stay awake, consciousness slipped away from him like sand through his fingers.

"Lando, hey, can you hear me?" It was the voice he heard before, filled with concern.

Lando's eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the hospital room. The bright overhead lights and the sterile scent of antiseptic made it clear he was far from the sun-soaked shores of Ibiza. His head throbbed slightly, and his body ached, but the gentle sound of a soft voice pulled him from the fog of his thoughts.

"Wha—what happened, am I in heaven?" Lando's voice was hoarse, his throat dry as he tried to make sense of where he was.

A warm chuckle filled the room, and he turned his head slightly to see a figure standing beside him—a young doctor, her eyes bright with amusement. "No, you're not in heaven," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "You're in a hospital. You were brought in by your friend, who's waiting outside."

Lando squinted at her, trying to focus as she continued. "You crashed into some rocks. You hit your head pretty bad, but luckily, there's nothing internal. With some rest, you should be able to go back to racing in no time."

Lando felt a rush of relief as her words sank in, followed by a pang of embarrassment. "Guess I won't be getting back on that water bike anytime soon," he said, attempting a weak smile.

She chuckled again, the sound light and comforting. "Maybe stick to the track for a while, yeah? We don't need any more scares like that."

Lando couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, or how her smile seemed to brighten the room. Despite the situation, he found himself feeling surprisingly at ease. He decided to lean into his usual charm, hoping to make the most of an otherwise unfortunate situation.

"So, doc," Lando started, his tone playful, "does this mean you're my guardian angel? You know, saving my life and all that?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his attempt at flirting. "I’m just doing my job, Mr. Norris," she replied, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Lando, please," he corrected her with a grin. "And you know, since you’re the one who’s patched me up, I think it’s only fair that I at least get to know your name."

She hesitated for a moment, but then relented, "It's Dr. Y/N. But you can call me Y/N, if you'd like."

"Y/N," Lando repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. "That’s a beautiful name. Matches the beautiful face, I’d say."

You rolled your eyes, though the smile on your face told him you weren’t entirely annoyed. "You must be feeling better if you’re already trying out your lines on me."

Lando laughed, then winced slightly as the movement caused a sharp pain in his side. "You caught me. But hey, flirting is the best way to speed up recovery, right?"

You shook your head, clearly trying to maintain your professional demeanour, but Lando could see the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. "Is that what they teach you in F1? Flirting as a form of therapy?"

"Absolutely," Lando said, settling back into his pillows. "It’s a proven method. But seriously, I think you’ve got some kind of magic touch. I feel better already."

"That’s probably the pain medication," You replied with a laugh, but there was a softness in your eyes now.

Lando decided to push his luck just a little further. "Well, since you’re so good at making me feel better, maybe we could continue this magic touch over dinner once I’m out of here?"

You paused, your expression thoughtful. "You don’t give up easily, do you?"

"Never," Lando said, his smile widening. "Especially when there’s something—or someone—worth chasing after."

You studied him for a moment, clearly weighing her options. Finally, you let out a sigh, though it was more of a resigned laugh. "Alright, Lando. I’ll tell you what—if you promise to take it easy and follow the doctor’s orders, maybe I’ll consider that dinner."

Lando’s eyes lit up, the pain in his body temporarily forgotten. "You’ve got yourself a deal, Dr. Y/N."

You shook your head, still smiling as you stepped back towards the door. "Rest up, Lando. I’ll check in on you later."

As she left the room, Lando couldn’t help but feel a small surge of victory. Despite the pain and the accident, things were definitely looking up. Maybe Ibiza wasn’t quite over for him yet.

[mamawasatesttube]

You know what you’re right actually. Can I change my “what’s cookin good lookin’ “ prompt to KonBart? That’s clearly the more correct application of that prompt.

also prompted by @pteropodidaes!! thank you ♥

Bart's arrival is heralded by two things. First, a gust of wind that rattles the pans hanging above the cooktop, nearly sends Ma's cookbook flying off the counter, and whips the curtains all over the window.

And second—

Smack!

"Heeeyyy! It smells so good in here, wow. What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Kon pinches the bridge of his nose. "For the love of god, Bart, have some manners! You can't just go smacking people's asses in their grandma's kitchens. I have dignity—"

"No, you don't," Bart interrupts, grinning. He grabs Kon's shoulders and hops up, slings his legs around his hips, and hangs on like a human backpack as Kon keeps whisking the glaze in the bowl in front of him.

Kon can't quite hide the fond smile that tugs at his mouth, no matter how exasperated he's trying to be, and wraps a band of TTK around Bart to hold him more securely. "Okay, I don't have dignity, you got me. But I have standards."

"Mmm, maybe." Bart hooks his chin over Kon's shoulder and peers at the bowl. "Honestly, the real reason I gotta stop smacking your ass when I run in here is your stupid invulnerability! That hurts at high speeds, you know. Anyway, what're you making, huh? I thought you said you were gonna cook something with all that zucchini from Max's garden, but it smells really good in here, so there's no way you actually used it—"

"I so did," Kon says smugly. "There's zucchini bread in the oven, and this is the glaze to go on it when it dries—vanilla with a pinch of cinnamon, y'see." He scoops a dollop out of the bowl on his finger and holds it up for Bart to taste. "It's good, try some?"

Bart obediently licks it off his finger. Kon turns his head just in time to watch his entire face light up, and laughs as he walks to the sink to wash his hand.

"Okay, that is really good, but—you're putting cinnamon vanilla glaze on zucchini? What the fuck?" Bart makes an incredulous noise. "Gross!"

Kon snickers. "You haven't ever had zucchini bread before, have you."

"Uh, no, but it sounds gross. I'm sooo sick of zucchini. Max keeps harvesting like a bajillion of them! Helen's taking them to work by the bagful and forcing her coworkers to take them!" Bart rests his chin on Kon's shoulder again. "If you actually made it not taste like zucchini, maybe it'll be okay, though. Maybe."

"It's a Martha Kent tried-and-true, family-approved recipe, if that makes you feel any better." Kon dries his hands on his apron and reaches up to ruffle Bart's hair. "But I bet you're gonna love it."

"We'll see," Bart says dourly. He butts his head into Kon's hand like a cat.

"You yourself said it smells good," Kon points out. He effortlessly plucks Bart from his back with a twist of TTK and plops him onto the counter instead, leans in, and pecks his forehead. "Trust me, Imp. You're in for a treat."

Bart hums, hooks both legs around Kon's waist again, and lightning-fast, snatches the whisk out of the bowl of glaze to lick it clean. "Okay, okay. I guess you haven't let me down yet, chef."

"Yet?" Kon repeats indignantly. He bops Bart on the nose and snatches the whisk away; Bart lunges for it, and Kon catches him around the waist and plops him right back down on the counter.

"Yeah, yet! I dunno if you're gonna make something super gross tomorrow!" Bart grabs for the whisk again. "Oh, come on, you were done with that anyway!"

"Mostly done," Kon corrects, and Bart playfully kicks him.

When the timer finally beeps and he turns to take the zucchini bread out of the oven, they're both still laughing.

♥ angst/fluff prompts ♥

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 12: Uncle Jack

Season One | Season Two | Season Three

[Raining Hellfire Season 3]

Word Count: 2896 words

Warnings: swearing, voices, mentions of blood, guns, death just everywhere, mentions of killing

[A/N: I love Uncle Jack so much I named a chapter after him. UNCLE JACK SUPREMACY.]

Uncle Jack

You slipped through the door, entering the white hallway and blinking against the harsh lights.

With a look either way, you try to map it out in your head. You needed to go... right. You’d helped Steve sneak the kids to the cinema on numerous occasions but you had never gone further than the door outside Scoops Ahoy.

You walk at a fast pace, hand hovering over the scalpel you had pocketed from the interrogation room. If any Russians decided to use this hallway, you sure as hell weren’t going to allow any surprises.

Even if they did have guns.

Shit, you thought, I really didn’t think this through.

There’s a whisper behind you and you whip your head around, pulling out the scalpel.

With no one lurking behind you, you quicken your pace, looking out for the familiar sign taped to a door.

“this is the end”

You look over your shoulder, still walking. But no one was there.

Goosebumps begin to trail along your skin and your heart speeds a thousand times faster. It was trying to get into your head again.

You sprint faster, shoes squeaking against the polished floor as you skid to a stop outside your destination.

“THIS IS THE END”

The voice screamed in a terrifying echo down the hallway and you ran inside, slamming the door shut behind you with a pant.

You head straight to the employee room, searching in the dark for the bulky object. Your hand glides over something bumpy. The radio.

You grab it, immediately switching it on.

“Does anybody copy?” You say, radio held to your mouth, “I repeat, does anybody copy?”

“Y/n?” Max’s voice comes out from the other side, a distant rustle in the back ground.

“Max! Thank god.”

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages, Billy-”

“He’s been possessed by the Mind Flayer, I know.” You quickly say, “Look, I’m with Steve and Dustin, Robin and Erica as well, and we’re all trapped in the mall-”

“The mall?!” She sounds startled and your eyes widened.

“Yeah?”

“Look, we’re heading there now. Billy just attacked us and El used her awesome mind thingy so we know about the gate.”

“What? No! Don’t come here, there’s-”

The radio suddenly cuts off and you pull away from it, frowning.

A blinking red light stares back at you.

“Fucking batteries!” You toss the radio back onto the table, running hand through your hair while pacing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Just as you go to turn, the overhead lights suddenly switch on and you squint against the light, blinking.

Someone was stood in the doorway.

You grab the scalpel, holding it out while your heart hammered in your throat.

“What the hell is going on?!”

You lower the scalpel, eyes adjusting to the light. Your breath hitches.

“Jack?!” Your jaw drops as you shake your head, “What- what are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you when you didn’t show up for dinner.” He frowns, staring at the scalpel in your hand. “Now, going back to my first question. What the hell is going on?!”

You sigh, eyes tearing. But you shake them off, focusing on your uncle.

“It’s really hard to explain-”

“No, kid, tell me now.”

You sigh.

“Okay, fine.” You take a breath, preparing for the greatest ramble of your life. “There’s some freaky shit going on in Hawkins, Billy has been possessed and is trying to kill everybody but it’s not really his fault, Dustin intercepted a secret Russian code which spiralled into him, Steve and Robin finding their base and dragging a ten year old with them so I went looking, especially since I pretty much rejected Steve even though I felt the exact same way, which is how we all ended up caught and interrogated with torture but we all escaped.”

You take another breath.

“Max and the others are in danger, El has powers, Dustin’s radio is broken, Erica wants ice cream, Steve and Robin are drugged, and the Russians are after us with guns because they think that we’re spies.”

You inhale the biggest breath of your life, leaning with your hands on your knees.

You finish panting, looking up and waiting for some kind of reaction. But Jack just focused on the blood soaked bandage on your leg, the way your hair was a complete mess and the various cuts on your face staining your lips with blood.

It was all he needed to believe you.

“Then let’s get you the hell out of here. But when we do, you are explaining everything to me.” He says, walking out.

After the shock left you, you ran out to follow him.

“Wait!” You said as he headed to the front counter, “We need to use the back-”

In that moment, the back door burst open and two very angry Russian men entered the room, eyes focusing on you.

One shouted, alerting the other of your presence and Jack grabbed your arm, pulling you with him.

“Move!”

You sprint out of the shop, avoiding the counter and running out into the first floor of the mall. You turn around to see that Jack has managed to block the door, running over to you.

“Is that even gonna hold them?” You ask.

Gun fire blares into the air and chunks of the door start flying off, the chairs that were stacked tumbling down.

“That’s a no.” Jack says, grabbing your hand and tugging you along with him as you ran across the mall.

Bullets start firing behind you and you scream, both of you ducking down while making your way towards the escalators.

“Shit.” Jack muttered, looking up at barrier put in front of the escalators. “Screw this.”

He tugged against the metal, pulling it hard enough for it to clamber down to the ground and he reaches out to you, pushing you up.

“Keep your head low and keep moving.” He instructs and you follow, practically crawling up the steps, all the way to the top.

There are more shouts from below and, thankfully, you both move out of the way before the Russians fire the guns upwards, barely missing Jack’s leg.

“Move, move, move.” He pushes you across the first level of the mall, panting.

“There.” You pant, pointing to a shop next to ‘The Great Cookie’.

You both start to run over when out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve, Robin, Dustin and Erica slide behind the counter.

“No!” Jack yells.

You stop moving, looking to him. He had his hands held in the air, frightened eyes staring at you.

You turn around.

You had been too distracted to see the man with a ponytail stood in front of you, multiple men with guns behind him.

You freeze.

The ponytailed man stares at you, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

“Found you, American.”

Four heads poke up from behind the counter, obviously as to why the pursuit on them stopped.

You glance over, eyes locking with Steve and you saw his face drop.

The ponytailed man raises his hand, motioning to the counter and the men behind him slowly walk over, guns pointed at your friends.

“No.” You whisper, watching as your friends disappear behind the wood, undoubtedly waiting to be caught and killed.

The ponytailed man raises his own gun in one hand, staring straight at you. “Bye, bye, American.”

And just like that, he pulled the trigger.

You instinctively squeezed your eyes shut. It all happened too fast for you to move out of the way in time.

You waited for the bullet to pierce your skin, already feeling the pain.

You had fought Demogorgons and Shadow Monsters and yet, you were about to be killed by a man-made gun.

How ironic is that?

The bullet never came.

You hear a grunt and you snap open your eyes.

Suddenly, a car crashes into the armed men, twisting in the air to spin and hit the ponytailed man and soon enough, he was flung across the food hall, blood pouring from his head as he laid, motionless.

You let out a breath, turning back to face in front of you.

“El!” You smiled at your uncle. When did he get there?

Jack stood with a sad smile and you frown. When did he get there?

You lower your gaze to where his hands shook.

When did he get there?

Blood stained his skin, droplets marking the ground beneath him.

When did he get there????

Your eyes widen and your heart beat stops. And then, it felt like everything happened in slow motion.

Jack collapses to the floor and you run to him, tears already falling.

“NO!” You scream, falling to the floor and pressing your hands against the bullet wound in his chest, furiously shaking your head. “No, no, no, no. No! This isn’t- NO – this isn’t happening!”

“Y/n…” Jack whispered weakly.

“No, don’t speak,” You sob, pressing down on him, blood spilling out between your fingers, “You’re gonna be okay. You- you have to be okay. Please. HELP! HELP ME!”

He reaches his hand up to you, gently placing it on your cheek. His blood was surely clinging to your cheek now but you didn’t care.

“You…” He struggles to breath, a red line falling from his mouth and down his chin. “Are… the best daughter… I could have... asked for.”

“No, no.” You shake your head, tear drops falling onto your hands as you leant over his body, “You’re gonna be fine. You will- SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

“It’s okay.” He whispers, a weak smile stretching across his face as he coughs, “You’re… you’re gonna be okay, kid.”

“PLEASE!” You scream, your voice cracking through the tears.

You notice Steve suddenly run around from the other side of the wreckage, Robin following closely behind. Once he finally sees why you’re screaming, his heart drops. Robin’s hand fly to cover her mouth, eyes misting over.

“Please don’t leave me.” You cry, staring into his eyes.

Your whole life, you just wanted a father that loved you as much as you loved him. One that could see your faults and still care for you, regardless. Sam Mayfield had never been that father to you. He had let you down in more ways than one and you never thought you’d need any kind of figure in your life again. Not Sam. Not Susan.

You were thrust into Jack’s care in a matter of a night. He wasn’t prepared. He had just lost the only person he had ever cared for and now he was expected to raise a child. But, as it turns out, she was exactly what he needed. He needed the world to tell him that he was needed. And you needed him. He quit drinking. He changed his job just so he could spend more time with you, to make you feel like you had a family and a safe place to come home to. He became a father, for you.

And now, all that time you spent searching for your biological parents had been a distraction from what was already in front of you.

A real father.

“Do me a favour.” He nods, bringing his other hand to grip tightly onto yours.

“No, you’re not dying. Listen to me-”

“Please.” He whispers and you stop, heart wrenching with each second that faded by.

You nod, another tear rolling down your cheek.

“Just remember… remember that, if you love…”

“I will never truly be alone.” You finish, a sorrowful laugh leaving your lips as he smiles up at you.

“You are never alone, kid.” He says before he starts coughing up blood and you straighten, shaking your head.

“No, no! Stay with me! Stay with me, please, god, stay with me!”

You keep screaming until his breathing stops, a stray tear rolling down his face.

The hand that held your cheek slowly fell to the floor and your heart is shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, slicing through the mental armour you had built for years and years.

You lean forward, placing your head over your hands as silent tears come streaming down.

Steve runs over to you, dropping to his knees.

“Y/n…”

“No.” You cry, “No. This isn’t happening.”

Steve shakes away his tears, arm reaching out to hold you and gently tug you away from your father’s lifeless body.

“NO!” You scream and scream as Steve pulls you away, using everything in you to push away from him. But his grip stayed tight.

He pulls you into a firm hug and you still struggled against him for a moment until every fight you had left and you collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his shirt.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, his arms never loosening their hold on you as you cried, stroking your hair.

He held you like that for a long time, Robin walking over and crouching beside you, offering a hand on your shoulder as she looked to the floor.

“Guys!” Dustin yells, manoeuvring around the wreckage, “Guys, something’s happening to… El…”

He stops, voice trailing, as soon as he sees Steve holding you, Jack led still on the floor. He stumbled back before sprinting over to you, finding the space to hug you from behind.

“I’m so so sorry.” He mumbled, a tear falling from his cheek.

Your tears finally slowed, your breathing becoming unsteady pants.

Every thought in your mind circled around Jack, around every memory. It tugged at your heart, every happy image suddenly burning into guilt.

“It’ll be okay, kid.” Your uncle was stood in the doorway of your room, a sad smile on his face. He could see you fiddling with the ring on your right hand.

“I see you found her ring.” He said quietly. You had found it in one of the boxes of your aunt’s things. You remembered it from when you were little.

“I’m sorry, I can take it off-”

“No. Keep it. It’s time it was passed to the next person.” He smiled. He looked tired, but sober. It was a rare sight for you. “I was the one that gave her that ring.”

You could almost see the memories dancing in front of his eyes.

“Really?

“Oh, yeah. My older cousin gave me it, his wife gave him it, and so on. It’s been passed around for as long as I can remember.”

“Wow.” You looked at the ring on your hand. “How do you know who to give it to?”

“Good question. I never quite understood it. You see,” He took a step forward, moving to the bed and perching on the end, “when my cousin handed it to me, he told me it was for strength. It wasn’t until I met your aunt that I realised it was something we gave to those we care about. Mind you, it didn’t have to be a ring.”

“To think it could have been cold, hard cash.” You sighed sarcastically, earning a low chuckle from your uncle.

“That would have been nice. But the ring… just feels more personal.” He nodded. He sat for a while before letting out a deep sigh and standing back up, facing you.

“You should keep it. Funerals… they’re hard to swallow sometimes.”

“Yeah.” You agreed quietly, staring at your reflection.

“You’re brave.” He said sincerely, stopping just outside your door, “I know how hard this must be. Believe me. You’re stronger than you think.”

“So I guess I don’t need the ring anymore.” You half-heartedly laughed, twiddling the ring.

“Oh, I still think you need it a little longer. Stay safe, kid.”

“I like it here.” You reassure, smiling the first genuine smile you ever gave her, “I have a family here. And… just so you know… you’re always going to be my mother. That won’t change. But… I like living with Uncle Jack. I feel like… we need eachother more than you and I do.”

“Time doesn’t heal things by itself.” Jack shifted closer to you, resting his elbows on his knees as he leant forward, “Trust me on that. No matter how someone we love is removed from our lives, we are always conditioned to feel guilt. To feel like we should have done more.”

“How did you make peace?” You ask quietly and he smiles, thinking of your aunt.

“I realised that I wasn’t alone.” He smiled softly, laughing, “Because I will always have those memories. I’ll always feel that love. To feel something is what rids us of loneliness. And I had this pretty great kid who made me realise that love has a funny way of showing up when you need it the most.”

“You are never alone, kid.”

You finally shift beneath Steve’s arms and he lets you pull away, eyes searching yours. You look down at Jack laying beside you.

All that sadness, all that guilt, it was changing.

Into something much more powerful than anyone ever realises until it’s too late.

“Everyone you love, every person you drag down with you, will be taken from you”

Rage.

“Y/n?” Dustin’s small voice brings back your attention.

“I’m gonna do it.”

“Do what?” Robin asks.

Steve stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. When you meet his eyes, they’re misted over with a concerned gaze.

You stand up, everyone else cautiously elevating to join you.

"I’m going to kill the Mind Flayer.”

[A/N: I just killed off my own character. I'm gonna need a moment.]

Chapter 13: Enemies ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo / @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley

[ang3lfory0u]

~Surprise~ (Max Mayfield x fem!reader)

_____________________________________________________

Words cannot describe how much I adore that girl

Anyway here is something random cause the Stranger things brain rot is real ♡

Fem!reader x Max!fluff <3

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Your hair was plastered against your forehead with rain, your eyes being blurred with the droplets that rolled down your forehead. It wasn’t light rain either-the sound of it hitting the pavement and trees around you hammered in your ears as you walked down the street.

Your heart was pounding with excitement-you hadn’t seen Max in almost four days (far too long), and surprising her would be the most out of the ordinary thing you’d done in a while.

A dazed smile flickered onto your face as Max’s small home came into view. Not being able to wait any longer-you picked up speed, running towards the house.

You nearly slipped on the wet grass but you caught your fall with your hands grasping the banisters of the porch. Stabilising yourself, you slowed down, slowly making you way up the steps and towards the front door.

Your hand reached up and knocked on the door, awaiting any sound of movement in the house. After a few seconds, you heard footsteps coming towards the door. Your smile returned to your face-softer this time. However, it grew ten times as the door opened to reveal max.

She was standing there, hair all over the place, eyes dazed with sleep and in only a large shirt that hung loosely at her frame. She must have been in bed. At 5 pm. But oh well, she still looked lovely as always.

“My my love no need to get dressed up for me” you teased. Smirking as her eyes widened at the sight of you, her frown immediately snapping into a grin.

“Yeah well y’know-I figured I should impress my girl, show her how much I love her” she mockingly bragged. Leaning her body against her arm that rested next to you, a smug expression on her face.

“No need to impress me darling-I know you love me” you smirked back.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, just enjoying each other’s features. Her eyes trailed down slightly and chuckling.

“Did you enjoy the rain by chance?”

You looked down, noticing your shirt was completely stuck to your frame. You’re cheeks heated up slightly but you just replied, “yeah I did, how could you tell?”

She grinned, “alright come on I’ll get you some towels and stuff”

You jokingly frowned, “what? you don’t want a nice wet hug?”

“Can’t say I do doll-maybe later” she winked.

You rolled your eyes, breathing out a laugh. “Yeah yeah okay”

You shuffled into the house, shutting the door behind you. You followed max to the bathroom and watched as she shuffled around for towels.

“Aha!” She whipped around, “told ya! I can take care of you honey”

You smiled “never said you couldn’t my love”

She grinned and handed you the towel. You began to attempt to dry your hair. Max watching with a blissed smile.

You looked back at her, “you’re in a good mood huh?”

Max sighed, “well I wasn’t until you showed up”

You slightly frowned, “what happened? I mean I get I’m amazing and all but what about before? What was bothering you?”

Max hesitated, “was missing you I guess, hadn’t seen your smile of had your kisses in a few days-too damn long”

You let out a slight laugh, “alright well I’m here now, I was missing you too Max”

She turned slightly red, “uh yeah well y’know who wouldn’t? Wait no I mean thanks-thanks doll yeah”

You smirked, “of course love, uh do you have a shirt I can wear mines abut-wet”

“Yeah-yeah ofcourse hold on” Max walked past you and into her room, meanwhile you continued to dry your hair.

A moment later she returned, a black shirt in hand. You smiled, “thank you darling.”

She nodded with a tight lipped smile and left the room, shutting the door on her way out.

After you had changed, you walked out of the room, heading for max’s bedroom. You quietly slid open the door, only to see her sat up on the bed, the faint sound of Kate Bush floating in the air from her radio.

You smiled softly, as did she at the sight of you. She opened her arms, inviting you over to the bed. You obligated, settling between her legs and rapping your arms around her torso. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her steady heart beat. She in turn, rapped an arm around you and used her other hand to lace her fingers through your drying hair. You smiled against her at the feeling. Your breaths steadying.

After a minute or so, her voice spoke up, “this is lovely and all but I still haven’t gotten my kiss”

You sighed, “how could I forget”

You poked your head up and propped yourself up on your elbows and gave her a peck on the lips.

“Don’t go thinking that’s enough”

You chuckled, “alright alright”

You leaned back up and gave her a longer kiss. You could feel her smile against your skin and it caused you to smile too. Her hands wondered up to cup your cheeks, her thumbs gently massaging them.

You were very glad you decided to come over and so was Max.

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Werewolf Bites and Hot Summer Nights

An AU in which Laura and Max can’t find Hackett Quarry and end up at the Harbinger Motel, before becoming camp counsellors for the summer. Max is moody and secretive and Laura keeps bumping into the grumpiest sheriff with the cutest puppy dog eyes, and when he gives her his number ‘just in case’ a girl can’t help but drunk dial him one night. Cue overprotective and jealous Travis. And shouldn’t the officer get a birthday kiss?

Banter | Enemies to Lovers | Battle Couple | Smut

Start with Chapter One

Chapter Five

Laura was being abducted.

Actually, she and the sheriff were being abducted in the sheriff’s car, by two hunters who looked like they dined on squirrel and shopped at Ye Olde Frayed Undergarments Boutique.

The withered, white-haired man was driving, his liver-spotted but surprisingly strong-looking hands on the wheel. The bigger man was filling the passenger seat, his shoulders so broad that one arm was pressed tightly against the window.

The only reason Laura wasn’t panicking as they bumped along was because Travis seemed one part annoyed, two parts resigned, and wasn’t saying anything.

In the seat next to her, Travis cleared his throat and adjusted his belt buckle. The innocent gesture hid what he was actually trying to do, which was push his erection down.

Laura recrossed her legs, trying to squirm her underwear into a more comfortable position. She’d pulled them on at the speed of light when Travis had reached out with his long arms and yanked the door shut. She was so wet she was probably leaving a damp patch on the seat. 

She and Travis exchanged glances and she remembered the filthy things he’d growled in her ear. He knew she’d liked them. He’d felt her getting wetter by the second.

She'd been so damn close.

The white-haired shook his head and muttered to himself. “Wait ’til your Ma hears about this. Just you wait, Travis.”

Travis stuck his fingers through the grille and rattled it. “Dad, I’m on duty. This is my goddamn car.”

Laura whipped her head around. “This is your father?”

He sighed and sat back. “Yeah, and my brother, Bobby.”

Bobby was sniggering in the front passenger seat. “Travis got caught with a girl.”

“Shut-up, Bobby,” Travis muttered.

What kind of mess was she in? They weren’t going very fast, so Laura tried the door handle, but it flipped uselessly. No wonder Max hadn’t been able to get out earlier. This place was a cage when the driver locked the doors.

They turned down a gravel driveway and approached a very large, very creepy old house, the kind of place that looked like it was haunted by ghosts that would send you mad and make you kill your family.

At the front door, Mr. Hackett parked and opened the back door for them, gripping the shotgun in his left hand. Laura got out, and Travis climbed out after her. 

“Let me drive Miss Kearney back to camp.”

“Inside. Now.” Mr. Hackett pointed at the front door.

“She doesn’t know anything,” Travis exclaimed, but Bobby grabbed both their shoulders and shoved them into the house.

Laura doesn’t know anything? That seemed pretty harsh to Laura seeing as she was a college graduate, but she supposed that Travis wasn’t referring to the theory of evolution by natural selection or Planck’s constant.

The vibes around Hackett Quarry had been strange all summer. Maybe she was about to find out what Travis was so jumpy about. 

Laura allowed herself to be marched inside along with Travis, but she paid careful attention to where the doors and windows were, ready to run the first chance she got. The house was as lovely on the inside as it was on the outside. Peeling wallpaper, old oil paintings and curling maps, squeaky floorboards.

They emerged into a living room lit by a single storm lamp. An old woman was sitting in a high-backed armchair.

The old man jabbed Travis in the ribs. “Tell your Ma what you’ve been doing when you should have been hunting.”

“Ma” was a stick thin, hard-mouthed old woman in her seventies who looked like she enjoyed dragging small children around by their earlobes.

Laura waited for Travis to tell these people they were all round the bend for kidnapping him in his own car along with a grown woman. As “Ma” bestowed her son with a gaze that glittered harder than diamonds, Travis paled.

“Well? Why are you here where you should be huntin’?” Her voice cracked like a whip around the room. Even Laura felt its lash.

Travis reached for Laura. “We’re going, Ma. I’m taking Miss Kearney back to camp, and then I’m—”

“You stay right there!” she snapped, and Travis did as he was told.

All the hairs stood up on the back of Laura’s neck. There was something very wrong in this house. A dark energy that turned everything bitter and sad, and it seemed to be radiating from this old woman.

Mrs. Hackett stood up and turned to Laura, raking her with eyes like lasers. Laura suppressed the urge to tug on the hem of her short dress and pat down her hair. She suddenly felt naked.

“Who the hell is this?” Mrs. Hackett asked.

“She’s a counsellor at—”

“Not you,” Mrs. Hackett snarled.

Mr. Hackett spoke in ominous tones. “They were in the back of his car.”

The old woman gave Laura a look that could melt metal and took in her bare legs and messy hair. The hot and heavy moments she’d spent with Travis were clinging to her skin, and she had the unsettling notion that everyone in this room knew what she and Travis had been up to.

“What were you doing with this girl, Travis?”

“We thought we heard an animal.” Travis looked meaningfully at his parents, trying to communicate something.

“We did hear an animal. Travis said it was a bear,” Laura said slowly, watching their faces. Bear had to be a lie. It just had to be. What were they hiding? Did Travis have another brother called Leatherface who prowled for victims on the full moon?  

“That’s Sheriff Hackett to you, girlie.” Mr. Hackett surveyed Laura with a severe expression, his lips pressed tightly together. Now she knew where his son got it from.

“Ma, Miss Kearney doesn’t know—”

The skinny old woman glared at her son. “Shut up. Was I talking to you?”

Travis flinched and bowed his head, and anger erupted through Laura. “Wow. Is that any way to talk to your son?”

Mrs. Hackett’s eyes narrowed. Mean old bitch. “You. Girl. What were you doing in the back of that car with my son?”

Laura tapped her chin, pretending to think. “I could tell you, but I just remembered it’s none of your goddamn business.”

Travis groaned under his breath and sank his face into his palm.

“I’m his mother. Everything that boy does is my business.”

“He’s fifty-six years old!”

Mrs. Hackett pointed a bony finger in her face. “Harlots and sluts like you can still get their claws into him.”

Travis lifted his head and raised his voice. “Ma! Shut the fuck up.”

Laura glanced at him in surprise. So he could stand up to his mother. Just not for himself.

“Don’t you talk to your ma that way,” Mr. Hackett growled.

Travis bowed his head again, but a muscle in his jaw ticked.

Laura shook her head and turned toward the door. “Okay, the looney toons have gone on long enough. I’m leaving.”

Travis caught her arm. “Not alone, it’s not safe. I’ll take—”

“Lock her in the cellar, Bobby,” the old man ordered.

“No one’s locking Miss—”

“We can’t. You know what’s down there,” Mrs. Hackett replied.

Laura’s eyes widened. What was down there?

“Then chain her up in the attic. We’ve got spare chains.”

Spare chains? Laura started to panic. “Are you all freaking crazy? No one’s locking me in a cellar or chaining me in the attic.”

Mrs. Hackett started shouting. So did Mr. Hackett. As if caught up in the drama of the situation, Bobby started exclaiming, “Travis had a girl in his car,” over and over.

“Everybody just calm the hell down,” Travis shouted, and everyone did, which seemed to shock him more than anything else that had happened tonight. “I’ll take Laura—Miss Kearney—back to camp. You’re all scaring her over a bear hunt.”

Mr. Hackett looked at his wife to make the decision.

Laura stepped closer to Travis and breathed, “Get me out of here, right now.”

Travis held his hand out to his father. “Give me my damn keys.”

“Ma” didn’t say a word, so Mr. Hackett handed them over.

Laura couldn’t walk fast enough as she followed Travis out of that maze of a house. In the front seat of his car, she put her head between her knees and dragged breath into her lungs.

“What the fuck. What the fucking fuck. I thought your family were going to kill me.”

Travis started the car and drove back toward the main road. “I’m sorry. It’s the bears around here. Everyone gets a little crazy about them at the full moon.”

Laura reared up. “It’s not fucking bears, Travis! Don’t lie to me.”

He winced, and Laura took a deep breath. The way he’d cowered in front of his mother was still seared into her brain.

“Does your family always talk to you like that?” she asked in a softer tone.

He pretended to be focused on the very difficult task of driving in a straight line down a straight, smooth road.

Finally, he muttered, “Don’t worry about it.”

That was one of the worst family dynamics she’d ever witnessed. That old witch treated her eldest son like trash. No one stood up for him. He couldn’t stand up for himself.

But he’d stood up for her.

Mrs. Hackett had called her a harlot and a slut, and he’d told her to shut the fuck up.

Laura nearly reached out for his hand, wanting to squeeze it, but every other strange thing that had happened this evening stopped her.

“What’s in your parents’ cellar that they didn’t want me to see?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. “My family takes hunting very seriously.”

Laura flopped back against the seat and shook her head. “If you’re going to lie to me, don’t bother talking at all.”

Travis took her words deeply to heart and didn’t utter one syllable as they drove back to where they’d left the SUV by the side of the road.

The moment Laura got out of his car and slammed the door, she wanted to jump back in, wrap her arms around him and tell him that she was so, so sorry for the horrible way his family treated him.

Plus she’d left her orgasm in that car. He had it, and she wanted it.

***

Laura sighed and started the SUV. As she drove back to camp, she wasn’t surprised to see the sheriff following her. Keeping her safe from “bears.”

Travis arrived home just after dawn, eyes burning with exhaustion and a dismal feeling festering in his heart.

He lived in a house adjoining the police station and as he walked down the hall he raked his fingers through his short hair. A scent on his fingers caught his attention.

Laura.

He stared at his hand. What a humiliating experience, to have the girl he’d been obsessing over finally in his arms, fleetingly interested in him, only for his family to interrupt them at the critical time.

He didn’t care about himself. If only Dad and Bobby had waited just one more minute, then he could have at least given her something good and kept a heavenly memory for himself. There was no chance of that ever happening between them again. Laura wouldn’t come within a mile of him again after seeing how pathetic he was, a man who cowered in front of his mother.

Travis closed his eyes and groaned. At fifty fucking six years old.

Rum for breakfast? He sauntered through his house to the kitchen, picked up an open bottle of dark rum.

Rum for breakfast.

He necked it from the bottle, and the alcohol burned down his throat, stole his breath and silenced his thoughts. He usually had rum for breakfast the night after a full moon, when the exhaustion and disappointment were bone deep.

He could smell Laura on his fingers and damn, her scent was something else. The only thing he wanted to think about right now was the pleasant, warm buzz of the rum and hot, heavy moments with Laura in the back of his car. Her telling him to look for the bear. Again. And again. Demanding he rub against her. And she’d called him bossy.

A smile hooked the corner of his mouth. Little brat.

The wall phone next to him let out shrill ring, shattering his daydream.

Travis rubbed his tired eyes and picked up the receiver. “Sheriff Hackett.”

“What were you doing with one of my campers last night?”

Chris. How wonderful. More family. “Camp counsellor,” he corrected.

“Same thing.”

“She went for a drive in the moonlight, and Silas found us before I managed to send her back.”

“Shit. Which counsellor?”

“Laura Kearney.”

“Did she see—”

“No.”

Silence stretched.

“Bobby was saying stuff about you and her.”

Sometimes he could wring his little brother’s neck. “Bobby barely knows one end of a shotgun from the other.”

Chris made a non-committal noise. “All right. Thanks for picking her up and bringing her back. I hope Ma didn’t freak her out too much.”

“What do you think?” Travis growled, and slammed the phone down.

He took a final swig of rum and then went to his bed.

The week that followed the full moon always felt hollow because it was then that the Hackett family lived in their disappointment that yet again they hadn’t managed to kill Silas. Travis avoided the family home like it was filled with plague.

He was always thinking about Laura. Late at night he thought about her even more. He searched for a lot of college girl porn. Blonde girls with older men. Not innocent, helpless blondes, but bratty ones with fire in their eyes who needed to be held down until they were whimpering please and being pounded into the mattress. The ones who loved to be manhandled and spanked and told what to do. Forced what to do.

Nothing illegal or messed up. A game because they both liked it.

He checked his phone often, hoping for a sarcastic text from her that would give him an excuse to charge around to camp and tell her off for wasting his time when he was busy.

But his phone stayed silent except for calls about noise complaints and stolen cars.

He’d never wanted someone to talk back to him so much in his life.

***

Another month sharing a bedroom with four other girls with no access to her vibe, Laura was starting to go around the bend.

The first month at camp, she’d had the odd lewd thought about Travis Hackett. She’d been turned on and squirmed a little in her underwear. She’d been noticeably wet several times and felt the aching need to be penetrated.

She’d fantasied about his thick cock dragging in and out of her while she had one hand pressed against his chest with the other working her clit. The fantasy had always passed off when she became distracted by other things.

Now it wasn't passing.

She couldn’t bring herself to try and get off in her bunk while the other girls slept. She remembered Travis’ question in the back of his car. Do you ever touch yourself?

Chance would be a fine fucking thing. In her own bed, she loved to go to town on herself. She was never going to take that luxury for granted ever again.

It was late afternoon and Laura’s Triple X daydream had moved past the first orgasm she’d had with her fingers and now he was really going for it, pumping into her in an unrelenting rhythm, their mouths parted, breathing hard. She gripped his shoulders and held on for dear life. His shaft was glistening with her wetness. He pushed her knees up to her shoulders and leant his weight on her, because bratty girls needed to feel it deep inside them to know who was boss.

Laura groaned and pushed her hands through her hair.

“Something wrong, Laura?” Abi looked up from helping one of the kids with a drawing. Laura was meant to be helping with the group. Instead, she was gripping a pencil like she was about to snap it in half.

Sweet Abi. She imagined what Abi would say if she confessed the truth. I need to be screwed stupid by that middle-aged cop you may have seen around. Absolutely ruined by him. You get me?

Abi.exe has stopped responding.

Laura rubbed her breastbone. “Ugh, indigestion.”

“You go get something from the nurse’s station. We’re just about finished here, anyway,” Abi offered.

Maybe walking it off would help. Laura got to her feet. “Thanks, Abi.”

Dragging her feet, Laura walked dismally around to the lodge, wondering if she’d ever feel cheerful again.

Max was too proud to talk to her about whatever was eating him.

Travis was probably avoiding her over what had happened at the full moon.

There was a mystery at Hackett's Quarry that no one else seemed aware about. Everything was such a mess. 

As she reached the front of the lodge, a familiar cop car pulled up. A tall man got out, dressed in a blue uniform, his gold badge gleaming in the afternoon sunshine.

He saw her right away. He’d probably seen her before she’d seen him.

He didn’t look through her.

He looked at her.

Laura’s heart soared.

Her clit practically cheered.

The sheriff was here.

***

I’ve been able to get out a chapter a day this week but I’m busy tomorrow so it will probably be a day or two before I post the next one. I can’t wait to write the next part. I’m having loads of fun! I hope you’re enjoying it too. Until then, leave me a comment and let me know what you think of the story so far.  

CHAPTER SIX

[mandoalorian]

sensational

Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Summary: Maxwell is away on a business trip for work, and you’re missing him more than you anticipated.

Word count: 2,2k

Warnings: 18+ smut; guided masturbation, male masturbation, female masturbation, light degradation, edging, orgasm denial, phone sex, long distance after care 🥺

Authors note: I’ve missed writing. So here’s a little something for Maxie cuz I’ve missed him too :( <3

Maxwell had only been gone sixteen hours. He left at 6am, and it was currently: you rolled over to check the time on your bedside alarm clock. 10pm. You frowned, pulling the crushed velveteen blankets up to your chin. He was probably fast asleep now anyway— after the flight and a long day proposing business scheme after business scheme.

You missed him a lot. He promised to call you every morning and every night, so long as he wasn’t swamped at the office. That was his promise and truthfully, you thought you’d be okay. He was only due to be away for a week. You knew a lot of other long-distance couples had it much worse. But being alone in his big suburban house was more isolating than you had ever even considered. It felt empty without him, and it didn’t feel like home anymore.

At least tomorrow you’d get to see Alistair, so that was a plus. You mentally groaned as you remembered how you were going to have to visit Maxwell’s ex-wife in order to pick up his son. She didn’t seem to like you all that too much, and to be honest, you could probably do without the chore of visiting her every Tuesday evening and putting up with her crap. It would be okay though. Alistair was worth it.

Your mind wandered back to your boyfriend. Your smart, handsome and powerful boyfriend with the honey coloured hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was always soft and warm— and a fantastic lover. Not only he was an excellent businessman, but he was also a brilliant father and a wonderful partner. He really was the perfect man for you.

You smiled wickedly to yourself as you remembered last night, and the antics you had both gotten up to before he had to leave in the morning. It was a long, passionate night. Your fingers ghosted over the love bites and bruises that were peppered across your neck and collarbones, and you gasped at the memory, a familiar heat rushing down your body.

If only he was here now… you two could’ve done it all over again.

Your glazed eyes flicked up to the telephone that was on your bedside table. You must’ve been staring at it for a good few minutes, contemplating things. Maxwell had scrawled the number to his hotel room down on a card before he’d left… just in case of an emergency.

You dipped your hand down to your cunt and felt your breathing hitch as you gathered all your slick on your fingers. You hadn’t realised just how wet you’d become.

Just call him. The devil on your shoulder urged. If he was sleeping, you certainly didn’t want to wake him but… surely there was no harm in an innocent goodnight call. At least then, you could hear his warm voice and his articulate words.

Maxwell Lord had you whipped.

Sighing, you took the phone from the hook and dialled his number. He answered on the first two rings.

“Hey honey,” he had a tired lilt to his voice, but just the depth and richness of his tone was enough to set a blaze in your tummy. “I was just about to go to bed,” he continued. “It’s late. Why are you still up?”

Yes, his voice was giving you everything you had desired, and more.

You swallowed thickly, your finger tracing lazy circles over your clit. “Mm couldn’t sleep. Was thinkin’ bout you.” you revealed, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. If you could get off to his voice alone, without having him notice what you were doing, that would be perfect. If he did catch on that you were touching yourself without his permission though… that would be a different story. “Miss you.” you exhaled, your eyes snapping shut.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” Max sighed, and you could faintly hear him shuffle around in his bed, the sheets making a fuzzy noise on the other end of the line. “What— what were you thinking about?”

The question was a trap. You knew Max all too well. He was right to have his suspicions.

You didn’t even bother opening your eyes, and you tried to repress a longing whine as your finger involuntary picked up speed, like some kind of reflex reaction to his question. “S-stuff,” you stammered out when you felt your fingers begin to dampen and slip between your folds. But ‘S-stuff’ was hardly going to be good enough for Maxwell. You dipped two fingers inside you, surprised at how well they were stretching you. “Mm— Max, miss— I miss—“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, already close to pushing your first climax out.

“Princess?” Max asked. “You there?”

Your response was delayed but was followed by a stifled moan that wasn’t lost on Max whatsoever. “Need you.” you gasped out, dropping the phone to your pillow by your head so you could use your other hand to rub yourself.

The friction of your digits rubbing against that sweet spot and the way your index finger and middle finger curled up inside of you was too much. You could feel yourself coming undone.

“Oh,” Max omitted knowingly, unable to contain the small smirk that was crossing his lips. “Oh baby.”

He felt his cock twitch from the faint little whimpers you were making, and he slid his hand under the waistband of his light grey sweats, freeing his already semi-hard erection.

“Tell me princess,” Max hummed. “What ‘stuff’ were you thinking about?”

Fuck. You wanted to curse. He knew. He clearly knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice; probably thinking you were needy and desperate. But you were. You really were and you’d give anything just to feel his hands on you right now.

“S-so much,” you answered, trying your hardest to collect your thoughts for him. “Undressing me. Caressing me. Mm, you playing with my tits like you always do. Kissing them— sucking them. Biting…” you reluctantly pulled your finger from your clit and began to palm at your breasts. “Come home.”

The two words were practically begging him. You ached for him. Your entire body was burning with arousal and you needed him more than you’d ever needed anyone before.

You knew it was a stupid request; and that he couldn’t just ‘come home’. But if you could have one wish— it would be for him to be on top of you right now, smothering you with kisses and whispering dirty little words into your ears.

“M-Max?” your voice was broken as you continued curling your fingers inside of you.

His fingers were wrapped around his own length now, pumping it as he imagined you sprawled out, naked on his king-sized bed. The grey sweats and white shirt had been long discarded onto the floor.

“I’m right here baby,” he assured, gathering the beads of milky white precum and rubbing it up and down his cock. “I’m here. Why— why don’t you take my pillow and grind your pretty pussy over it hm? I know you can get off like that, you dirty girl.”

Another uncontrollable whine omitted from your lips at his light degradation. You followed his orders, knowing better than to disobey. Taking his pillow, you got on your knees and positioned it in between your legs, holding the phone to your ear as you began to thrust your hips.

You imagined it be his lap. You’d rubbed yourself over his thighs plenty of times, making a mess of his designer pants and creating stains not even the drycleaner’s could remove. His pillow still vaguely smelt of his apple scented shampoo and it only spurred you on even more.

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” Maxwell grunted. “My pretty girl. What are you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure rifed through your veins. “I’m your pretty girl.” you confirmed, feeling your cheeks heat up when Max chuckled.

It was a sensation overload— and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last. Maxwell knew too, judging by the way your moans picked up and became jagged. “God— Ma-Mmm—Max,” your thoughts were fuzzy and jumbled as you increased your pace. You wanted to feel something inside of you again. Your fingers or a dildo or— something, anything. But you weren’t even sure if you’d get the chance. “I’m so close,” you warned. “Gonna— gonna cum—“

“No,” Max said darkly, his voice having lowered an octave. “Roll on your back princess, and pull the pillow off you.”

You wanted to cry. You knew he always liked to play these games.

“B—but,” you choked out, wanting to finish and reach your orgasm.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

He was using that scary business voice. The one you often overheard when he was on the phone with partners or associates. Reluctantly you pulled the pillow away from your weeping cunt put it back in its place.

“O-okay,” you mused, wiping the tears that had pricked at the corner of your eyes as you changed position and got comfortable on your back, just like he’d instructed.

“I wish I was with you sweetheart, wish I could fuck your little pussy. How wet are you?”

“Very.” you replied exasperated, desperately waiting for him to let you touch yourself again.

“Show me,” Maxwell smiled wickedly. “Move the phone in between your legs and finger yourself. I want to hear you.”

You frantically followed his instruction and inserted your two fingers inside of you, pushing them deep and curling them upwards so they hit that hot, spongey sweet spot. Your legs were shaking and your back was arched over top of the satin sheets as you panted your boyfriend’s name.

Max was more than thrilled to hear the squelching wet noise that echoed throughout the comfort of yours and his shared bedroom, with every thrust and curl of your fingers. It felt good but… it just wasn’t him.

Now his own broken gasps were audible. You loved to hear him. He always got loud when he was close. That’s how you knew he was about to finish. “So— so good. Sweetest cunt in the whole fuck—fucking world. When I come home I— gonna fuck you so hard.” he promised in between shaky breaths.

Your lips curled into a grin and you arched your back as your slick dipped down the softness of your inner thighs. After all the edging and over stimulation, there was no way you were going to last. This was exactly what you wanted; Max may not have been physically there but his voice alone had always worked wonders.

“Can we— can we cum togeth—“ your request was fuzzled by the way you buried your head into your pillow, feeling a warm flush of heat race to your core.

“Yes,” Max cut you off impatiently. “Are you close?”

“Y-yeah, I don’t think I can hold it—“

“You can baby, you can. I’m going to count down from three and we’ll cum together. Okay?”

You were a screaming sweating mess at this point, and his countdown couldn’t have felt any slower. Three seconds felt like three years as you mustered all your will to obey him.

“Three, two, one—“

He didn’t even say zero. The countdown was followed by a long groan falling from his lips as his milky white seed spilt all over his fist and his tummy. His cry pushed you over the edge and you released your own climax, spasming and shaking on his side of the bed.

You curled up under his sheets, still shaky, and pulled the phone back to your ear. “Hi,” you whispered sheepishly. “That was good.” you bit down on your lip, smiling to yourself. Your own voice was a little hoarse from all the moaning and whimpering.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, smiling himself. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” you admitted with a huff, relishing in his cologne scented blankets.

“Wish I was there to clean you up,” Max sighed, and for a split second, he pondered the consequences of catching the next flight home.

He always took care of you after sex, paying a meticulous amount of detail to how you acted after your moments of shared intimacy. He’d fetch you water and wipe away any mess with a warm wash cloth. Sometimes he’d even help you into some cozy pyjamas or one of his shirts.

“I can go clean myself up, don’t worry about me,” you hummed in contentment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect baby,” he grinned “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“I can let you go—“

“No,” you cut him off, clutching onto the phone not wanting him to leave. Yeah you’d missed the amazing sex but truthfully, you’d missed him the most. “Can we uhm, can we just stay here on the phone together? Fall asleep together? I— I want you to be there when you wake up.”

Max hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t see a problem with your request. In fact, he thought it was a wonderful idea.

“Yeah, of course honey,” he replied softly. “I’m gonna go wipe myself down. You should do the same.”

“O-okay,” you sniffed. “I love you. I won’t be long.”

When you returned, Max was already waiting for you. “Princess?” he called, when he heard you shuffle back into bed.

“Hiya,” you giggled, rubbing your eyes. “I’m sleepy.” you admitted, your statement followed by a yawn.

Max chuckled. “Has my girl worn herself out?”

You laughed and nodded your head. “Yeah.”

“Okay sweetheart, let’s go sleep.” Max hummed, resting the phone by his pillow and closing his eyes.

“Okay, good night Maxie.” you mused softly.

“Good night honey.” He returned, before you both fell asleep.

——————

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[tintinwrites]

how could we be wrong? | Priest!Max Phillips x Reader

A/N: Thank you for doing business with the religious trauma hotline, my name’s Caitlin. I’m just calling to confirm your order of a priest kink.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Fem!Reader. Max is a priest. Unprotected P in V sex, in a church, over a pew, while another priest and a parishioner are in the confessional booth. Oral (F receiving). Religious things. Naughty words. A bit of corruption kink. There are so many sins in this that I can’t list them all bc idk what’s bad and what’s not now.

Word count: 4,105, apparently!!

Summary: You go to church to confess your sins, but end up only adding on some more things you’ll need to confess.

GIF credit: thewaythisis

Tags: Love y’all but I cannot CANNOT force my taglist to have a priest kink thrust upon them like this.

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

The oak door was heavy as you pulled on the brass handle, but the opening of it led you into a warm, quiet sanctuary.

You supposed there was a metaphor in there; you were out in the cold with a heavy weight, but just beyond that weight was warmth and salvation and peace.

Every pew was empty, bibles and hymnals tucked neatly in the compartments on the back as they waited for mass or for passersby who needed to pray. There were candles lit at the front of the sanctuary despite the lights on overhead, and you inwardly berated yourself for not knowing why they were lit.

You intended to go to the confessional booth to your right, but you paused halfway to it when you saw that there was another person in the sanctuary. They were facing away from you, dressed in all black, but they didn’t have snowy white hair like the priest who you’d seen the times you visited before.

Glancing at the confessional, you decided instead to approach the man.

Perhaps you just hadn’t seen him before and if he was the only priest in the building, going into an empty confessional would be a little silly.

“Father?” you asked cautiously, and the man immediately whipped around to show a face much younger than you were used to, his gaze quickly flickering over you.

“—yes, my...child?” The name was said hesitantly with a slight grimace and you wondered if you interrupted him.

“I’m sorry. I can come back later.” You turned to go, but a hand wrapped around your arm to pull you back.

“No, stay, I was just cleaning.” He held up the dust buster in his free hand, releasing you so he could put it on the altar table. “What do you need? I’m yours.”

He said that simple statement so smoothly as he turned to face you that it made your heart pick up speed just a bit, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, I...came to confess, but I’m not exactly anonymous anymore…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, slugger!” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders before you could protest, leading you to a pew and sitting down with you, his legs open wide as he relaxed into the wooden seat. “So, come on, what’s the secret, huh? What’d you come to confess?”

“I...I don’t know.” You knew what you came to confess, but you were taken aback by his behavior and how quickly he moved, and mostly just embarrassed to admit such things to a handsome man like him.

“Are you one of those freaks who just came to confess just in case?”

“What? That’s...no.” You were definitely surprised by a man of God talking about the parishioners who came to confess like that. “I just don’t know if I should confess these things outside of the confessional.”

He made a face and waved his hand as if to say it was no big deal. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was something charming about how carefree and flippant the man was, but you still hesitated for a second. “I don’t even know who you are, Father.”

“Max Phillips. I just started training here.”

Well, that explained his lack of the professionalism and seriousness you were used to. You opened your mouth to confess since he was a priest or would soon be one, but you shook your head and looked down shyly. “I don’t know…”

A finger under your chin gently nudged your head up until you were looking into Max’s eyes, your heart picking up speed again. “You’re safe with me. Go ahead.”

There was just something about him that made you feel all warm inside, and you nodded for so long it was almost stupid before you remembered that you were supposed to be confessing.

“I’ve been having a lot of impure thoughts lately. It just seems like everything is driving me crazy and then I…” You faltered as the real thing you wanted to confess to danced on the tip of your tongue.

Max had been looking at the way your dress hugged your tits as he listened, raising his eyes to your face when you stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re very young to be a priest.” You started to turn away because talking about something like this to a man who looked like that was not stopping your thoughts from heading in the direction they tended to lately. “And you’re different. Shouldn’t we be in the confessional?”

“Hey, listen, how about we...make a deal? You confess, and I can tell you how I ended up here.” He just really wanted to know what had you so ashamed like this, what could possibly make you squirm like you were right then.

You considered it for a second before nodding, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been masturbating. I start thinking, and then I start feeling these sensations, and before I know it, I’m touching myself.”

He nodded along in understanding like the thought of you touching yourself didn’t make his pants a little tighter. “I see.”

“I know it’s wrong.” You dropped your head into your hands, but were only able to wallow for a few seconds. The priest grabbed onto your hands and grasped them in his supportively, making you look up at him.

“You wanna hear why I became a priest?” He smiled at your slight nod. “I was always a little bit of a...troublemaker. But I guess the last time was just the straw that broke the camel’s back for my parents…”

“What did you do?” you asked with concern; the way he sighed made it seem like he did something terrible, like hurt someone or do some kind of dangerous drug.

“See, there was this girl I liked. I invited her over to my house.” He knew exactly what he was doing with this story, noting every little hint of your untapped desire in the way you leaned closer and your blinking slowed. “When my parents walked in to find me with my head under her skirt, slowly thrusting my tongue in and out of her, I guess it was too much.”

His words dripped with sensuality and you would have fallen right off the pew were it not for your grip tightening on his hands. He was so beautiful. You pressed your thighs together and just stared at him, your lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something or maybe even kiss him.

But then he leaned back and shrugged, going right back to his previous nonchalance. “So they sent me to seminary a few years ago and I was just accepted by this church.”

“Oh.” You nodded, trying to pretend that his story hadn’t affected you that much. It seemed like he was just telling a story and your horny brain had just read too much into it.

“You know sexuality isn’t bad, right? Rubbing one out is a biological response to release a little...tension.” He released your hands to break contact with you, noticing the way you fell forward just a little as he leaned against the back of the pew.

“The bible says—”

“The bible’s been translated a billion times and taken out of context a billion more. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with releasing a little tension.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips as he decided to push you a bit. “There’s nothing wrong with you being turned on by the idea of me putting my head under your dress right now.”

You were nodding along as you considered his words, but then your eyes nearly doubled in size at his comment. “I—I don’t—”

“Now lying is a sin.” He reached out to tap you on the nose which made you blink rapidly in confusion. “Look at how tense you are. You’ve been denying yourself, haven’t you?”

“Well...I didn’t think it was right…” You were uncomfortable; not because he was upsetting you, but because you had been denying yourself and you were so turned on by his words that you wanted to do the very thing you came to confess.

“Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?” He decided to be blunt. You seemed to enjoy it when he was.

“What? Me? Here?” Your reaction was almost comical, but his words still sent a jolt directly to your clit.

“Touch yourself. Yes, you. Right here.” He leaned forward to gently grasp your hand again, running his thumb along the back of it. “I’m a man of God. You’re safe with me if you need to release a little tension. I won’t tell a soul.”

“I…” You wet your lips, pressing your thighs even tighter together.

He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly guided your hand to the hem of your dress, pausing to see if you would stop him or protest. When you didn’t, he helped you pull the fabric up your thighs, glancing down when he saw a glimpse of bright fabric. “Blue lace, huh? I like it.”

All you did was stare into his eyes, letting him maneuver your hand underneath the practically sheer fabric. He pulled his hand out and just laid it on top of yours through the lace.

“Tell me your name.” He waited for you to stutter it out before repeating it, wrapping his lips around it sensually in a way no one ever had before. “I could moan that. Fuck, I’d like to hear you moan my name like a prayer.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes fluttered shut and you began stroking over your clit, giving into the sensation that was begging you to touch yourself.

Max just kept his hand on top of yours, letting them move together, his eye flickering between your face and what you were doing between your legs. “Isn’t that better? What are you thinking about?”

“Your tongue.” You were too turned on to care, letting out a little moan when you opened your eyes and saw the way he was staring at you.

“And I didn’t even tell you the whole story!” He laughed, bringing his free hand down to playfully slap your thigh. “I bet you’d like to know what I did when my parents and their friends walked in, huh? Go ahead, ask me.”

“What did...what did you do?” You tried your best to focus on him, now letting him control the movements of your hand through your panties.

He shifted a bit so he could lean in closer to you, his eyes roaming from your face, down your neck, over your breasts, until they landed between your legs. “I fucked my tongue into her until she came all over herself in front of everyone.”

The whine you let out was exactly what he wanted and he chuckled when you tried to move your hand faster than he was allowing.

“Patience is a virtue. Do you want to feel my tongue?” He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t answer him at first, making you grind your fingers against your clit a little harder. “It’s okay to say yes.”

“Yes,” you gasped out and he smirked, pulling his hand away and taking hold of your wrist to make you stop touching yourself.

“Now, I know you learned patience. You’re such a stickler for rules, aren’t you?” He pulled your hand up to kiss your glistening fingers, letting his tongue poke out to kitten lick them every so often. “I want you to stand up for me. Take off your panties, go up and put them on the altar, then come back here. You’re gonna stand in front of me and take off your dress.”

Your chest was rising and falling slowly from your deep, steady breaths. You’d come to confess your sins, but it didn’t feel like a sin as you stood up and stepped out of your underwear.

You didn’t even realize how easily you were doing it until you’d approached the altar and set the bit of lace on it, turning around to make your way back to Max.

He was leaning back in the pew with his legs open wide, the bulge in his pants obvious when you came to practically stand between his knees.

You hesitated when your fingers came to the hem of your dress, realizing that you were going to be naked in front of this practical stranger in the middle of a church. It was both enticing and terrifying.

“Let me see. I’ve been staring at your tits since you walked in anyway.” He said it so casually it was somehow almost sexier than if he’d been flirtatious.

Hesitating for just a moment longer, you pulled your dress off before you could convince yourself not to, leaving yourself entirely bare. Max’s eyes darkened as he slowly looked over every visible inch of you.

You grew nervous when he didn’t say anything, shifting on your feet and biting your lip as you stared at the floor.

When he was still silent, you slowly looked up at him, fearing a look of disgust.

But you found him staring right at you with eyes full of lust and he slowly said, “I’d abandon the church for that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say to something like that, just letting out a shaky breath as you felt yourself grow wetter.

“Sit down. Open your legs wide.” He stood up, waiting for you to take his place on the pew before he knelt between your legs. “Has anyone ever done this before?”

“No, Father. I only had sex once, when I was a teenager...and it wasn’t really good.” Your answer seemed to please him, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Call me Max,” he said simply, then leaned forward and started running his tongue along your folds.

Just feeling his tongue between your legs had you squirming and gasping, but he wasn’t paying attention to your clit yet. He’d dip his tongue right near it before skipping over it, pressing teasing little kisses against you.

Having never been eaten out before, you didn’t think to rush him or beg him; you were oversensitized from a lack of proper touch, so this was doing a lot for you.

He decided to be nice mostly for the purpose of rocking your world, and he started to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

That had your hips lifting off the pew, a cry leaving your lips as he started tracing little circles over the sensitive area. “Oh, fuck, Max…”

He took hold of your thighs to pin you back down to the seat, pressing his tongue flat against you and dragging it slowly up over your clit. The movement had your jaw dropping open in pure ecstasy and the ensuing vibrations from his soft chuckle made you release a moan.

You’d never felt anything so amazing in your entire life even when you would give in and touch yourself, and you couldn’t believe how long you’d gone without feeling something this wonderful.

“Would you use your tongue inside me? Like the girl?” Your request earned you another slap to the thigh as Max pulled away, his lips shining.

“I gotta say, you know your manners!” He grinned, keeping his eyes on you as he leaned down and slowly began fucking into you with his tongue.

You were silent at first as the new sensation took over, before you let out a whine and started breathing a little shakily. “Oh, God!”

Max mumbled a reminder of what you could call him into your cunt, thrusting his tongue a little faster and nudging his nose against your clit.

He kept going at it until he felt your walls starting to flutter around his tongue and he pulled back, smirking at the almost hurt look on your face.

“You wanna see what good sex is like?” He cupped your face when you nodded, moving to kiss you passionately.

You kissed him back eagerly and stared at him dreamily as he pulled you to your feet, letting him turn you around. He guided you to bend over with your hands gripping the back of the pew, seeing that you were steady before he pulled back to admire your ass.

He ran a hand over the soft skin, undoing his pants with the other as he kept trailing down until he was stroking through your slit. “It hurt the first time, huh?”

“Yeah, and he...released his seed after a couple thrusts then left…” You admitted this with a bit of shame, pressing your fingers into the wood.

“Came. He came after a couple thrusts.” Your gentle way of putting it made him smirk, but he let out a moan when he pressed his tip to your wet folds. “This one’s not gonna hurt and you can bet your sweet ass that you’re gonna come first.”

“He came,” you repeated, eyes fluttering shut with a moan at the feeling of him starting to push into you; there was some pressure, but he was right about it not hurting like the other time.

“God, you’re tight…” He practically growled, going slow so you could adjust to the way he was stretching you open.

You folded your arms on the back of the pew and laid your head on them, breathing deeply as he pushed himself inside you as far as he could. He moved one hand to your right hip and the other stroked up your back.

“How’s that?” Your answer was a pitiful, little groan so he thrust his hips a little. “Come on. Use your words.”

“Good, but I feel like I want you to move…” It was so nice to feel full and you wanted friction to go with it.

“Then get back up.”

You forced yourself back up onto your hands and turned your head to look at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow, watching your eyes darken as he pulled out before quickly thrusting back into you. It was hard enough that you let out a yelp and were rocked forward a bit, having to tighten your grip on the pew so you didn’t face plant on it.

“Oh, God!” You cried, arching back into him.

“Okay, fine, you can call me that and Max.” He rolled his eyes playfully as he found a steady pace against you, loving the way you practically bounced with each thrust.

You were too gone to even acknowledge what he said, and he really didn’t mind since that meant he was turning you on. He slid a hand underneath you so he could rub at your clit, angling his thrusts to stroke over your G spot.

He was trying to keep it together, but you were sexy, and so wet, and so fucking into it that he couldn’t help the noises you were pulling out of him; every whine, every moan, was worth being able to fuck into your tight, wet pussy in the middle of the fucking church.

He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock already since you were so wound up in general and worked up from his mouth, and like hell he was gonna deny you this time.

The thought of you squeezing down on his cock encouraged him to move faster, the sound of his hips slapping into your ass echoing through the sanctuary.

“Max! I’m—I’m—” Your orgasm was too powerful for you to even warn him about, only able to let out a cry as you clenched tight around him.

“Holy shit.” He hissed at the way your cunt gripped him like a fucking vice, the way he felt you squirt all over yourself and his dick.

He could feel it dripping down your thighs and his, spurring him on further as he easily thrust into you.

The sound of your wet cunt filling the room was even better and he let himself get completely lost in you, grunting and whining at how good you felt.

“Oh, God. Oh, God!” Maybe he was doing that part a bit on purpose, but he had no choice but to let his hips lose their rhythm as he just focused on seeking out his orgasm. “Fuck. Tell me where to come, now.”

You didn’t answer at first as you were still coming down from your orgasm. He quickly started rubbing your sensitive clit again to grab your attention and you gasped, “Inside me, please.”

He wanted to fall to his knees and fucking worship you for that, leaning down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades before he stood up to drive into you desperately. It only took a few more thrusts before he was shoving himself into you as deeply as he could, letting out a loud, long groan as he spilled his load into you.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, both panting, both with your eyes shut tightly.

But Max still wanted to fall to his knees in worship.

He regrettably pulled out of you and moved to kneel down, holding onto your ass to keep you still as he leaned in, immediately lapping the mixture of his and your cum from your cunt.

You let out a whimper so pretty that he could’ve gotten hard again if it was possible. He just focused on cleaning you up with his tongue, licking into your cunt until he was satisfied with his work.

He enjoyed a good eyeful of your pussy and ass and decided he wanted to inspect you more in the future, moving to his feet.

“Your sins are absolved.” His words were followed by a slap to your ass before he tucked himself back into his pants.

You moaned and stood up fully, turning to see that he was holding your dress out to you. Part of you wanted to ask if that was it, craving more despite how much he’d just offered you, but you stayed silent and put your dress back on.

You walked up to the altar when he just stared at you, grabbing your panties off and moving to step into them. There was a tap on your shoulder before you could and you turned to face Max, who was now holding a collection plate and grinning mischievously.

“We’re collecting if you want to help the church. I, for one, would love to put those on my face later and jack off.”

You gaped at him for a moment before slowly smiling and laughing softly, dropping the lace into the collection plate. “I should probably go…”

He nodded, but put his free hand on the side of your face and guided you into a deep kiss, licking into your mouth with remnants of cum on his tongue. It made you moan and he was honestly fucking surprised you didn’t have your own cult of people begging to have you.

“Come back. Just ask for me.” He smirked at your dazed nod and kissed you again before slapping your ass, nudging you up the aisle.

You walked to the door with a bit of a gap between your thighs, finding that the door didn’t seem as heavy as before. You glanced at him over your shoulder before walking out and letting the oak shut behind you.

Max just smirked to himself and chuckled, both satisfied and proud. He looked to the side of the room when he heard a creak, smile not faltering in the slightest even as an older, enraged-looking priest stepped out of the confessional booth. “Hey, pops.”

“Father Phillips, this is unacceptable.” He was red in the face from anger or perhaps something else.

“Is that a crucifix in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Max’s jovial expression did twitch a little bit when the priest let out a growl, and he slowly slid back a step and took your underwear out of the collection plate. “She needed me, buddy! What was I supposed to do, let her walk around all wound up?”

“You weren’t supposed to fornicate with a parishioner in the middle of the fuck—” He immediately stopped his crass words when the other side of the confessional opened and out stepped a small, elderly woman.

Max had honestly forgotten she was in there, but raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the way she was eyeing him.

It was probably the wink he sent her that took him from probably exiled to definitely exiled, based on the way the head priest cried,

“Get out!”

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

How to Catch a Boyfriend Part 9 AKA The End

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7    Part 8

How to Catch a Boyfriend Part 9

Billy is trailing through the woods quietly following after Steve. This is what he has been driven to. Practically stalking even if he is only willing to admit that is what he is doing to himself. He has tried catching Steve’s attention, tried getting him alone but since that night at the Byers he has been avoiding Billy. 

 It is arriving seeing him each passing day without being able to enact his plan to catch him that has driven him to follow Steve. Steve is always around Nancy and Byers since they showed back up at school and when he is not with them those kids are at his side, the curly haired one vying for all of his attention even against critters, blowing raspberries at a deer in retaliation for bleeping at him. Billy cannot find him in the woods either, has looked every night and come up empty. 

 So Friday after school Billy follows him, he watches Steve drop the kids off at the arcade Max included and then he keeps following him, car lagging behind just enough to not be spotted. When Steve parks in his own front yard Billy drives down a little further and parks in front of a neighbor’s house wanting to catch Steve unaware, worried that maybe he really is avoiding him. Steve left fresh flowers this morning though, Billy woke to the dying ones left on the table, in their place a new small bouquet of bell-shaped purple and little white umbrellas and this time a new flower, a different lighter shade of purple, yellow center facing the ground as it petals curl backwards and up toward the ceiling. Steve would not have brought him new flowers if he really did not want to see Billy right?

 Billy catches sight of Steve heading into the forest that backs up around his house, the gate leading to his pool left wide open as he ventures forth. Billy is quiet as he follows, speeding his steps in an attempt to not lose sight of Steve but as soon as he is in the thick forest full of underbrush and shadows he has lost him. Billy curses to himself as he whips his head around looking trying to find him, slapping at a stray low hanging branch. He blinks, startled as that almost musical laughter sounds “Big guy why are you following me?” Billy whips around searching for his Steve, finding him fluttering right behind him at eye level, wings sparkling in the light of the setting sun shining through the leaves.

 Billy does not think, just acts, hands whipping out fast and catching Steve who lets out a startled shout as he is caught in the cage of Billy’s fingers. He is careful of Steve’s wings, leaving enough room not to crush them as they slip through his fingers but not enough room for anymore of Steve to slip free. They flutter wildly tickling as Steve thrashes trying to be set free, giving tiny angry shouts. Billy stands there frozen to the spot, what was the plan again?

Billy whips his head around, taking a step forward and then a step back as he tries to recall what the rest of his plan was. He honestly had not thought he would catch Steve off guard like this, he did not think he would get a hold of him especially not so easily. He did not plan for this at all, he does not even have his jar with him. Billy curses as sharp teeth dig into the flesh of his palm, barely managing to keep from letting go or tightening his hold, unwilling to free Steve or hurt him.

 The pain cures his indecision and Billy takes off in an awkward run towards his house, it is a longer trek than he thought it would be, slowing down the last half panting a little and hissing again as sharp teeth once again bite into him. It only spurs him on again, pushing him faster towards his destination. He slows again when he gets closer to the neighborhood, keeping his prize tucked in close to his chest and trying not to draw any unwanted attention to himself. 

 Neil’s truck is not in the driveway but Susan’s car is and Billy can hear her and Max singing along to the television in the living room. He does not want them seeing Steve, so he veers away from the front door, face pinching up as he looks at his window. Luckily it is cracked enough that Billy can use his elbow to force it open further, he really wishes it was closer to the ground though, the climb up is awkward. He starts with a jump, hooking his elbows over the open lip of the window, careful not to let his fingers go tight or loosen as he kicks his feet against the siding pushing himself up. He flips into the bedroom, groaning as his back hits the floor hard, he ignores Steve’s renewed struggling and stinging nips, he is not letting him go yet.

 Billy climbs to his feet and once again uses his elbow this time to drag the window down and then flick the lock into place, he huffs as it takes three tries to get it into place. “Stop it.” Billy hisses when Steve bites him again turning to his stereo and using his elbow to turn it on, the music loud enough to keep them from being overheard, he does not want them being interrupted. If Max hears Steve Billy has no doubt she will come snooping about. Lastly he leans against the door before he opens his hands letting Steve go, Steve darts out and Billy flicks the lock into place as Steve flits about looking for an easy escape, there is not one.

 Steve finally gives up his search, coming to a rest hovering close to Billy but not close enough that he can reach out and snatch him again, little hands on his hips as he glares at Billy. “What the hell!” Steve huffs his whole body shaking with it, wings flapping harder.

 Billy gives an awkward smile, bravado wavering a little he was not expecting him to be actually mad. It is okay, it is fine, Steve will be happy once he sees the gift Billy made him and then he will not be mad anymore. Billy moves over to his nightstand where he left the mason jar, Steve fliting further away to keep his distance clearly weary of Billy trying to grab him again. Billy holds it up smiling wider as he presents it to Steve “I made this for you!” He announces proudly, he even found some little winter flowers and scoured the yard for the last of the green blades of grass to cushion the bottom.

 Billy frowns when Steve does not look impressed, though it is hard to tell when he keeps moving around in agitation. “Why?” Steve’s tone is a sharp clipped thing.

 Billy glances at the mason jar and then back at Steve and his face scrunches up lips pursing, is it not obvious? “So that I can keep you and make you happy.” Billy says earnestly with a shake of his head, Billy just wants to be a good boyfriend why else would he go through all of this trouble.

 “I am not some pet or insect you can just keep in a jar!” Steve hisses body shimmering and suddenly Billy has a full sized Steve standing angrily in front of him. Clothes still look like they are made out of plants and wings still out and he is just as pretty in this form at this size as he is when he is tiny. Steve glares at him, hands still on his hips, delicate wings shifting in agitation and Billy looks from Steve to that jar and realizes his mistake. When he got the idea for the mason jar he had not been thinking about the fact that Steve could obviously switch sizes, it is much too small now.

 Billy sets the jar back down with a little nod, he will do better with his next gift he just got excited did not think this one through. In the meantime it does not hurt to ask “Alright so tell me how do I keep you? What will make you happy?” He asks very seriously, he will do whatever it takes to keep Steve. 

 Steve’s face screws up, mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally huffs “Why would I let you keep me?” Steve’s eyes go wide when Billy moves forward, he tries to get away but he does not move fast enough and Billy manages to get a grip on his arms, pressing their bodies close together.  

 Billy can feel the heat of his body seeping through strange clothes, can feel the brush of Steve’s wings fluttering against his fingers curled around his arms and at this size they are just as silky smooth, the ridges just barely more pronounced. “How else does one get a boyfriend?” Billy asks slowly because his motives are obvious, he does not understand how Steve cannot see that.

 Steve gapes at Billy for a long moment before he hisses out “With like dates and shit not a do it yourself terrarium jail.” He snaps his mouth shut and his cheeks go pink and now he is just staring at Billy. Billy feels a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny, they know each other kind of, better each time they cross paths but he is not sure what that look means.

 Billy ignores it because now he knows what he needs to do to get Steve to be his boyfriend, to keep him, Steve just gave him the answer he has been looking for and Billy smiles big and wide with excitement. “You want to go on a date? We can do that. I can do a date!” Billy’s voice goes high undermining his words but it is not his fault. Where the hell do you take a fairy on a date? None of the books he has read had any recommendations for this situation. 

 Billy racks his brain quickly as Steve stares at him, big eyes look at Billy less like he is trying to figure out and more like he is curious to see what Billy has planned. Nothing, Billy has nothing planned, he wants to groan but he does not want to give himself away, eyes flitting around the room as he tries to think. Billy’s eyes fall on the flowers, plants, Steve likes pants right? Yes perfect and sweets, sweets Billy read fairies like sweets! “There is a plant nursery on the edge of town and an ice cream parlor a little ways from there.”

 Steve chews his bottom lip for a second before he starts practically vibrating in Billy’s grasp as he asks “You want to take me on a date and that’s what you want to do?”

 Billy hesitates for a moment, he is not sure if the vibrating is good or bad but Steve’s voice sounds excited not angry like he had been earlier so he gives a nod and promptly falls over onto his bed as Steve pushes his weight into him. Steve’s arms curl around his waist as Billy falls, Steve is still vibrating and shimmery, scent unmistakably sugar sweet as he crows “That sounds amazing!” Billy grins wrapping his own arms around Steve, careful of his wings, he is pretty sure he has successfully caught himself a boyfriend.

The End

[chyrstis]

WIP Friday!

I’ve had some tags throughout the week, so I’m going to cash them all in here, since Friday’s the day and I might’ve been hoping to get this posted last night too, whoops! And I want to thank you all for tagging me even if I don’t always respond quickly! <3 I definitely intend to, but there’s never enough time in a day or a week, is there? 

Tagged by @redroci @tommymillers @jackiesarch @ma-sulevin and @amistrio and @adelaidedrubman !

Tagging: @writerofblocks @twistedsinews @painterofhorizons @hunnybadgerv @cobb-vanthss @shallow-gravy @nightwingshero @ma-sulevin @shellibisshe @jackalopestride @unlikelynick @geronimo-11 @fluttyseed @fadedjacket @weekend-writer @starsandskies @faithchel @belorage @tomexraider @consumedkings @vasiktomis @chazz-anova @aceghosts @ofravensandgenesis @scarlettkat86 (and if you’re already posted WIPs, don’t mind me one bit! no obligation or pressure’s ever intended)

First, a snippet from Lighting the Fuse’s Ch. 2 which I’d love to edit up and post this weekend, so here’s hoping I can kick myself in the butt hard enough to pull it off? *crosses fingers*

---

“Not tonight, hon. Not tonight.” Propping herself back up on her elbows, she gave him a smile. “You’re here now, though. So…how about it?”

“How about what?”

“You ask,” she replied, giving him a lazy smile. “Since I’m clearly on the cusp of benching you if you don’t.”

Sharky clapped his mouth shut. Stood there, rooted to the ground and didn’t let out a single peep. 

That boggled her completely. “Seriously, hon? Nothing?”

It was dark, but Hana could almost swear he was a shade of red darker than her hair right now. “You uh…. See I didn’t think it was-maybe you being asleep kinda threw off my groove a bit.”

Hana blinked at him. Watched a crooked smile settle onto his face as he let a nervous chuckle out.

“Like, like I mean I was gonna-was thinking of maybe doing this sorta-” His words trailed off as he clenched his teeth, swallowed hard, and let out a long exhale.  “Okay, so maybe this shit isn’t exactly-”

A loud sigh came from her left directly from the radio, and the sound filled the entire room.

“…Wait, what the fuck?” Sharky asked, his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. “You hear that?”

Clenching her fists, Hana slowly let her hands relax as she let the tension out. “Unfortunately.”

“Deputy, Deputy, Deputy. I know you’re listening. But I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose. I thought you wanted my attention. Would’ve been glad to finally have it undivided, and yet you deny me the pleasure of hearing a single response in turn. How…cruel.”

---

And a bit more of the Hana/Sharky one-shot I’ve been chipping away at, that’s actually getting really close to being finished too. I just need to jot down a few more moments for it and see if these two can actually clam up long enough to let me finish

---

“Yo, it’s not like I’ve been there any longer than a few days at a time, and half of the shit they’ve dragged me down to the jail for’s legal, just not in any of the spots I ended up doing it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, which is just fucking stupid seeing as lighting a fire by my house’s fine, but if it gets out to the street and catches on the trees ‘cause it’s extra dry out and the wind’s blowing, suddenly I gotta go in ‘cause I’m negligent or some shit. Then the po-po’s claiming I gotta have a permit to burn in the drier seasons, but it rains fucking plenty here.”

He’d draped his arm over her shoulders by this point, the motion coming so easily from him she hadn’t even noticed at first. Just nestled right into that warmth almost on reflex as Sharky kept on talking, and didn’t want to budge an inch if she could help it.

“Man, it’ll be the driest stretch of the year, and the sky’ll just open up and drop a bucket-load on us ‘cause it’s feeling it, but even if it don’t, anything I start’ll get put out. Just ‘cause I’m around doesn’t mean shit’s gonna go down, or nothing. ‘Cause then phone calls are made, people start looking at me funny, and I’m getting pulled out of my car for jack and shit when maybe I just wanted to take a breather there. Maybe get in a few Zs, take five to ten to jerk it, and they don’t gotta watch that too closely if I’m doing it either.”

She’d been nodding along with him, then stopped. Let that statement sink in as her eyebrows drew together before they rose high on her face.

“…Hon, that’s not legal.”

“Aw, come on, Dep! Don’t tell me there’s some kinda permit for parking out-“

“No, not that. You’d probably get slapped with a ticket or fine, sure, but it’s more about the fact that you were  beating it there.”

“It’s indoors.”

That response came quick enough for her to tilt her head back to look at him. To side-eye him heavily as he shrugged, and damn. She’d curled up to him a lot closer than she’d initially thought. Close enough to-

She cleared her throat.

---

And a little more of the No Cult AU, maybe? ...I may have watched Speed again last night entirely due to this. and it might also be up to almost 8K in length as well, pre-edits, so... Help 

---

But that didn’t solve the other problem. Towing it.

A truck would’ve been their best bet, but with him already there it didn’t make sense to try and scrape together cash for a tow truck, or to fire off a call to anyone down at the compound. His car had been used to drag Sr’s truck out of more than a few ditches without tearing the frame up, so this wasn’t a stretch to consider, and leaving them hanging now would’ve just been a shit thing to do when they didn’t even have a working phone or forty bucks between them. 

And while he’d never been able to get a tow bar to last more than a few months max, he had a few solid workarounds that could still get the job done. One of which he’d seen in a commercial a while back. 

He knew it almost by heart at this point, and cool as it’d be to fix their problem by just whipping his pants off and tying their vehicles together with them to help tow them to the compound, he’d gone down that road before. Hell, not just once, but twice now, and considering he’d been left between getting pepper sprayed and arrested, or having a busted set of jeans and his ass hanging out for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure he liked where that left him on round number three.

Besides these were a well-worn pair, and they seriously didn’t make them like they used to. Long as he tried not to get too creative with them, they had more than a few good years in them yet. So after some sifting and digging through the trunk of his car, Sharky kept his fingers crossed that he’d find an actual tow strap back there. He and Hurk had been through this dance enough times before that he knew he had one, and crossed his fingers that he hadn’t left it over at Sr.’s place. 

Sure enough, there it was. Fucking majestic, and almost crumpled in the back, Sharky withdrew one perfect tow strap and broke out a few moves to celebrate it before hitching the two together. 

Once it was secure, he told them all to hop in, and while trying to cram one extra person into his car was tough three other people might’ve been pushing it. John regularly had the best seat in the house and still hardly made it more than a few miles before fussing at him, and here they were double - and triple stacking themselves in any spare space in order to take a seat. Man, he was already thinking up ways to relay this story to Hurk later on, but with them semi-settled and packed safe as they could be, he fired the engine up and got them all back on the road. 

It wasn’t a far drive out to Joseph’s but he took his time with it. Drove the slowest he’d ever attempted short of being twelve and behind the wheel for the first time, trying to be extra gentle with it all as the van lumbered behind them.

If he went too fast, they’d tear the back of his car off and lose it. If they hit the brakes too hard, they’d get rammed, so he needed to nail that sweet spot. Keep from tipping from one end over into the other as he played his very own version of Speed out on this stretch of road, watching that needle dance back and forth over that perfect point as he started to sweat a little under his cap.

But he had this. Pressed his foot down on the gas and let up when he needed to, exercising the kind of control that even John would give a silent nod of approval to - which would almost make him the Keanu to his Sandra, except John wasn’t there and currently trying to crawl under any of this shit to keep a bomb from going off - but whatever, it was close enough.

So he watched the mile markers fly by as they got closer and closer to the island, and by the time they rolled through the gate and came to a stop, Sharky let out whatever breath he’d started holding, and didn’t even care when the van nearly smashed into them on the home stretch anyway.  

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 4

Yesyesyes I’m super excited to share this one with you guys!! The game is finally beginning, ahhhh!!!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 4: Goddamn wimps, all of them

Marinette opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight. She stood in a huge village square filled with hundreds of people, the gaps between them growing smaller as more and more players appeared. The sun shone merrily, and an excited chatter began rising in the air. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It felt good to be back.

“Marinette!” She looked around to see Alya and Nino waving a few yards away. She broke into an excited smile and jogged over to meet them. They must have spawned in relative to their actual locations since Kagami, Luka, and the others from her class were already there.

“Hey guys!” Marinette said breathlessly. “Almost didn’t make it. Thanks for the call, Alya.”

The brunette gave her a quick hug. “Anytime, girl. Now you and Lila can show us the ropes!” She bounced excitedly.

Marinette barely caught herself from rolling her eyes and just nodded instead. Of course Lila would be able to help teach the others how to play. It definitely wouldn’t just be Marinette teaching everybody. Again.

Meanwhile, Max and Nathaniel were remarking on how realistic the textures of the cobbled streets were. Marinette did a double-take when she saw Adrien standing next to them. He had an immensely intricate and ornate suit of armor. There was an excess of spikes, ribbons flowing from every joint, and every inch of him was covered in metal. A tall helmet adorned with skull decals cast a shadow over his grinning face.

“What are you wearing?” She spluttered. He pointed a thumb to his chest with some difficulty, the thick metal creaking with the movement.

“This bad boy is the toughest armor in the game! I may have made a few embellishments of my own, so now I look even cooler.” He stated with pride.

Marinette shot a look at Luka, who wore a light set of simple leathers. He grimaced and shook his head, warning Marinette not to question their friend’s surprisingly atrocious taste in fashion. Or serious misunderstanding of armor weight classes.

“You know you could’ve picked any armor you want, right?” Adrien asked.

“Oh, I know. I crafted this set during beta testing!” Marinette spun around to show the boys, gladly welcoming the change in subject. She was dressed in a light suit of armor, the metal tinted a deep red. Black fabric peeked underneath the gaps, a strong yet flexible design of her own making. A simple grey cloak hung off her shoulders, concealing the quiver behind her back.

While Luka and Adrien complimented her brilliant design, she spotted Lila. She looked a little out of her element, hanging back to awkwardly watch a conversation between Kim, Alix, and Kagami, oddly enough. The three were dressed in heavy sets of armor, lamenting about how there weren’t any monsters to battle yet.

Chloe sauntered over to join them and, having heard how even Kagami was itching for a fight, wrinkled her nose. Marinette giggled to herself. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

* * *

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he threw out an arm to steady himself. The transition from logging on was dizzying, but the sensation faded with every deep breath he took. He noted the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Damn, even he had to admit this tech was impressive. Dick and Tim stood next to him, wearing blue and red-toned armor respectively. Tim was looking around wildly, grinning like an idiot.

“Timmy!” Cassie Sandsmark sprinted towards them to tackle her boyfriend in a hug. Oh great, looks like the rest of the kiddy patrol was here too. Looking to where Cassie had run from, Jason indeed saw various members of The Team. Connor looked just as nauseated as Jason had felt after joining. Roy stood next to him, unmoving as he stared down at his very realistic-looking hand. Ouch. Jason had to have some sympathy for the poor kid, not that he’d ever tell him that.

Bart and Garfield, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of their lives. Bart got into a running stance and Garfield gleefully jumped into the air, both falling flat on their faces. Jason snorted as he watched Jaime help his boyfriend up. Jaime asked him, “Whoa there ese, what gives?”

Bart shook his head and muttered, “I don’t have my speed.”

Garfield furrowed his brow and strained his face. “You look like you’re either really constipated or trying to shift,” Artemis informed him.

Ignoring her, Garfield locked his panicked eyes with Connor’s. “I can’t shift either, SB.”

“Der kaolc ym nrut,” Zatanna intoned quietly. When nothing happened, she nervously said, “My magic doesn’t work either.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Goddamn wimps, all of them. “Looks like all you supers will have to stoop to our level.”

“Stay whelmed everyone,” Dick stepped in to mitigate half the group’s outrage. “It’s just a game, we don’t exactly need our other skills right now.”

Before they could say anything else, an enormous bell mounted in the center of the town square began to ring. A hush fell over the crowd. The sky darkened as red hexagons interlocked to create a massive dome around the town.

A tall being flickered to life in the air above them. The hooded figure floated high overhead, their face eerily concealed.

“Attention players,” the figure raised their hands. “I welcome you to my world.” Well that didn’t sound ominous, Jason thought to himself. He felt the mood from the others shift into high alert.

“You may call me the Game Master, and I am the only one in control of this world. You may have noticed that the logout button is missing from your main menu.” The figure paused dramatically. “I assure you, this is no defect in the game. It is all as I have designed it to be. You cannot log yourselves out, and no one outside the game will be able to remove you forcibly. If anyone tries to do so, a transmitter inside the VR headset will emit powerful microwaves into your brain that will end your life.” Shit, shit, shit. This was just supposed to be a dumb game he played to make Replacement shut up about it, what the hell?

“Of the 10,000 players, 215 have already died because their family or friends ignored this warning and attempted to remove their headsets. Media outlets have been reporting on this, so it is safe to assume the danger of your headsets being removed has passed.” This guy had to be joking. Though if he wasn’t, Babs would surely research everything within her power to try to remove them safely.

“One other feature of the game is that you are no longer able to revive players. If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will die and the headset will destroy your brain.” Jason’s eyes widened and his head whipped to Dick. He ran a hand through his hair, looking just as horrified as Jason felt.

“The only way for a player to return to the real world is to clear the game. You are currently on Floor 1, the lowest level of the castle. If you make it to the dungeon and defeat the level boss, you may progress to the next level. Defeat the final boss on Floor 100, and you will clear the game.” This motherfucker couldn’t be serious.

The game master, god what a pretentious prick, raised his hands and began to disappear once more. He said, “Good luck, players,” before disappearing entirely. The sky returned to its cheery blue.

 A beat of silence passed before someone started screaming. Then the thousands of players erupted into a cacophony of sound.

* * *

Marinette stood stockstill amidst the chaos. She felt more than heard masses of people panicking around her. Her eyes darted back and forth without truly seeing anything, mind racing to figure out a solution. If there was no way to safely remove the headset, then they’d have to beat the whole game. What about the Kwami? Could they connect with their miraculi? What about the small powers they’d each accumulated over the years? If those were accessible, then they might stand a chance, but god if they weren’t--

A hand on her arm made her snap her head to attention. It was Adrien, his jaw clenched tightly. She gripped his arm in return, the small reassurance barely that. Around her, the new Order looked to their leader for orders, direction. And behind them, her classmates....

Most were white in the face. Max had his hands clenched in his hair and was muttering to himself about the likelihood that the headsets actually could kill them. From the way he was shaking his head, she guessed it was a definite possibility. Lila looked like a cornered animal, twitchy and desperately looking for an escape. Even Kim and Alix wore uncharacteristically serious expressions.

“Well?” Chloe prompted Marinette. The latter took a deep breath. Better focus on solving the smaller problems first. “Your VIP package came with a house on the first floor, right?”

Chloe blinked in surprise. “Yeah, it did,” she replied uncertainly.

“Good.” Marinette whistled and gestured for the rest of her friends to gather around. “Listen up! We don’t know how everyone else is going to react, so it’s best for us to go somewhere safe to lie low for a while. I can teach everyone the gameplay, and we’ll do our best to help beat the game.”

She looked Alya and Nathanial in the eye, since their hands seemed to be shaking the most, and said with all the confidence of Ladybug, “Think of all the bullshit Hawkmoth’s put us through. We are not going to die here. That’s a promise.”

Marinette drew her bow and half-strung an arrow, holding it parallel to the ground. “Chloe has a house on the first level. Let’s go.” She nodded to Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka to establish a perimeter around the rest of the class as they moved. She exhaled a quiet, shaky breath and led the way out of the square.

The crowd did not part easily. People were sobbing, shouting, hyperventilating. They needed to get out fast before the shock wore off.

Someone stood in front of her. The poor soul was probably just as scared as they were. She put her bow back in her inventory, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“Excuse me,” Marinette gave a little half-wave to get their attention. “May I please get through?”

“Oh, sorry,” He had a deep, male voice. One hand gestured to the direction she was headed as he stepped out of her path. “Go right ahead.” His hands weren’t shaking as the other crept towards his belt. Not good, not good.

A flash of silver was all the warning she got before Luka pulled her back. A knife collided with his hastily raised shield, shedding sparks as the assailant nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. Marinette dropped down to sweep her leg beneath Luka’s shield, knocking the man off his feet. He gave a shout of surprise as he went down, and Luka disarmed him in the confusion.

“Come on, move it!” Marinette shouted over her shoulder. She re-equipped her bow and surged forward, picking up the pace to get the hell out of there. Such a large group was an easy target, they had to get out of the open and fast. People were starting to react beyond their shock, and more of them were bound to get violent.

Her eyes scanned over the buildings in front of them. There. A momentary break in the throng of players allowed her to spot Slipcut Alley, a favorite shortcut of hers. It was only a few yards away. The alley was too narrow for anything but a single-file line, but it provided cover and was hidden by a spell that only other beta testers would know about. It was their best option.

She squared her shoulders and pushed through the last of the crowd. She turned to face her friends, who gathered around her as they too made it out into the small clearing. Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien were watching the crowd behind them, ready to defend against any other attacks.

Marinette put her bow away one more time and asked, “Do you trust me?”

Shaky nods and wide eyes. That would have to do.

“Then follow me,” she said, and walked straight through the wall before them.

* * *

“Our first step should be finding shelter for the night,” Dick said sharply. “We can figure out the rest tomorrow, but it’ll do us no good if we die tonight.” Tim nodded, ever the protégé.

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Jason countered. He couldn’t help it if it came out a little accusatory. He did not sign up for a damn death trap.

It was Garfield who had the answer. “Well, in order to do anything, we need money. So we need to start killing some monsters!” He palmed his fist with a resounding smack. “And then we can see about an inn or something.”

Connor rubbed his chin. “That’s not a bad idea, kid.”

“Just tell me where to hit them,” Roy said in a low voice, sounding about as pissed as Jason felt.

“Let’s split into three teams. Alpha squad will be Artemis, Wally, Bart, and myself. Tim, Roy, Gar, and Connor will be Beta. Jason, you’re with Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna for Gamma.” Great, Jason was the only non-super there. What a grand old time that’ll be.

He made to leave the square and disappear into the panicking crowd, but Dick held his arm. “Hey, I’m trusting you to keep them safe,” he kept his voice low. “It’s been a while since they fought without powers, so keep an eye on them.” He then turned to address the rest of the team. “Alpha will take north. Beta, go south and Gamma see what’s west. Meet back here at sunset. Alpha will secure lodging before engaging enemies.”

“What, no pep talk?” Wally elbowed Dick. The latter didn’t crack a smile as he said, “Just stay alive.”

Beside him, Garfield swallowed hard and said weakly, “Noted.”

Jason rolled his eyes and jerked his head in their assigned direction for the other three members of Gamma squad to come with him. He’d follow along as long as Dick made good plans, and Jason didn’t exactly have any better ideas for now.

He put on his very best I know exactly how to kill you and I’ll do it if you don’t get the hell out of my way face and lead the way out of the packed square. The crowd parted easily before him, and they were out on an open street within a matter of minutes.

”Where to first, ese?” Jaime asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Good question. Jason looked around for a map or something that could tell him the way out of the damn town. When he glanced back for a quick headcount and only counted two, he cursed and asked Cassie, “Where the hell is Z?”

She pointed at a nearby stall where the magician was chatting with the vendor. Zatanna waved to them, then sauntered back over to the rest of the team. “The shopkeeper says there’s a bridge further down this street and to the left that’ll take us west out of the town.”

Cassie frowned. “Was that a player with their own shop already? Man, we are behind.”

“Oh, no it was an AI.” Zatanna readily supplied. “An NPC?” She added on seeing the confusion on her companions’ faces. “Honestly, was I the only one to do research on this game before playing it?”

Jaime sheepishly scratched his head while Cassie squeaked, “Well....” Jason had to agree with them, he just did this to keep Replacement happy. And get Dick off his ass, the meddling prick.

Zatanna shook her head. “Look, AI stands for artificial intelligence, and NPC is a non-playable character. They’re computer-generated people, not actual players.”

Jason caught enough to surmise that these NPCs were created by the same maniac that locked them up in here. He crossed his arms and asked, “How the hell can we trust their word if they’re controlled by that fuckin’ game master freak?”

Cassie bit her lip and had the good sense to look concerned.  Zatanna just shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll just have to find out. We can try following their directions but stay cautious in case it’s a trap.”

“Fine,” Jason sighed. “Let’s go.” He was already resigned to the absolute stupidity of the situation anyway.

They made it to the end of the street without incident, and turned where the shopkeeper had directed them to. There was a bridge, spanning a merrily bubbling river, and open fields dotted with trees beyond it. Jason could smell the greenery and apple blossoms from here.

“Wait!” Jaime threw his arm out. He made a face, then sneezed. “Aw man,” he gave a tremendous sniff. “Can’t eben escabe allergies in a video gabe.”

Cassie laughed at her friend and slapped him on the back, which only made him sneeze again. Dumbasses, they didn’t have time for this. Jason rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and walked up to the base of the bridge. He slowly, carefully stepped across and edged his way to the other side.

The other three followed suit, and upon joining him, Zatanna said cheerfully, “Seems like we can trust the NPCs!”

“For now,” Jason muttered, still not convinced. He turned his gaze to the rolling hills before him, warm breezes sending waves that shimmered through the knee-high grass. He didn’t see any monsters, but there had to be some... right?

He used two fingers to swipe the air in front of him, opening his inventory. At least he remembered that much from the tutorial. He equipped the crossbow he’d loaded in when he created his avatar. Damn, that night in the Batcave felt like it was a week ago.

Jason took a wary step forward, into the grass. “Fan out,” he directed the other three. He didn’t turn to watch as he heard them draw their own weapons and creep up to flank him.

A rustle in the grass ahead had him throw a clenched fist into the air to have the others hold their positions. He waited until the movement stilled, then crept forward a few more steps, careful to keep his footsteps silent. He was within feet of it now, whatever it was. He hoisted up his crossbow to brace it on his shoulder and trained it on the last place he’d spotted movement. There was a sharp inhale behind him, and then Jaime sneezed loudly.

The head of a wild boar whipped up and it lunged for Jason. “Shit!” he yelled. Damn kid and his perfect timing. Jason blindly jumped backward and fired a bolt at the same time. It met its target and the boar shattered into glittering dust that resembled pixels. In front of him, a notification popped up that 20 copper coins, the crossbow bolt he’d shot, and a boar tusk had been added to his inventory. Huh, that was surprisingly easy.

“Wow, that was so crash!” Cassie pumped her fists in the air. “This game is gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Not so fast,” Zatanna frowned. “Remember, this is only the first level. It’s bound to be easy. It’s only going to get harder from here.”

Jason turned around to face them. “And just because that little shit was easy to kill doesn’t mean they all will be on this level.” He noticed Jaime hanging back, looking embarrassed.

“Hey kid,” Jason jerked his chin at him. Jaime's head snapped up. “Do you want to try the next one or wait by the bridge until your allergies clear up?”

Jaime opened his mouth to respond but had to sneeze again. “I think I’ll just waid by the bridge. I’b really sorry guys.” He trekked back to where they’d come into the fields.

“And then there were three. Ladies first,” Jason mockingly bowed, gesturing to the open fields beyond where the boar had been. Zatanna smirked and Cassie stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned with a rude gesture.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs, “Sandstorm.”

Hope everyone is having a good Monday, Hope you like the story )

Sunny stood beneath the blazing hot son. The Iranboo market on Irus was hot and dusty with clouds of blue sand puffing up into the air with every step. The little domes of white rock that made up the houses here, were draped in colorful cloth which stretched from  roof to roof to cast the sandy market into a measure of shade.

Sunny was used to the heat, though volcanic heat and the heat of a star were much different, the volcanic heat coming in waves, while the heat from above seared downwards with ever-increasing intensity that made her entire body tingle with heat, and so she stayed in the shade near one of the tents, perusing a table full of decorative daggers, lorded over by a dark-skinned human, covered in colorful cloth from head to toe, to the point that only his upper face was exposed.

She wondered how the man could wear so many layers in heat like this, but didn’t ask.

Off to the side, Adam was busy taking the statement of one of the market herb sellers. 

They had come here on the wind of some disturbing rumors.

Apparently, someone had got it into their heads that ground up Drev carapace had some sort of medicinal properties, sort of like ivory -- or at least that is what Adam had compared it to. Either way, they weren’t sure if the rumors were true, but a slow trickle of calls had been coming into the UNSC and revolved around Drev and their missing friends or family members.

Sunny shivered at the idea.

What kind of person would have the audacity to hunt Drev.

It was her impression, for that reason, that this in some way involved humans. That was not because she thought humans were the only ones sick enough to do something like this, but primarily because humans were the only ones capable of challenging a Drev. Perhaps a team of humans headed by a Tesraki mastermind, or others, but it remained her opinion that humans, or spirits forbid, other Drev were involved.

She glanced back at Adam, pleased to see that he was taking this as serious as any other investigation that they had done. Things were slowly changing, but the war hadn’t left the Drev in a good light and there were still some who didn't take the issues of her people as seriously as they should.

Obviously Adam was an exception to that rule and followed the plight of the Drev very seriously going so far as to say ‘ive been adopted into two Drev clans; your business is my business, and I intend to do everything that I can to help.”

So far he hadn’t lied, and she was more than pleased.

She turned her head away from his questioning and back to the rest of the market. Iranboo was a center of trade on Irus, far out in the desert, but close to at least three major interstellar docking stations. At least two of those three docking stations regularly received travelers from Anin, her home planet, and was often the last place some of the Drev were seen before they vanished completely.

With Adam still talking, Sunny walked a little further into the crowd following her ears and eyes. If she were a drev come off Anin for the first time, what would she be looking for? Food for sure, but the weapons would surely catch their eye.

So she made her way along the sand fruit stalls examining tier wares cursily before moving on. It was not their items that she was interested in, but the aliens who sold them.

She took a turn around the other side of the market, losing sight of Adam behind a brightly colored green banner. She lifted her head, and, off in the distance, she saw alow haze beginning to form on the horizon. 

It was a familiar sight, from a memory long ago when she had passed through Irus.

The deep blue of atmospheric haze was growing even deeper, until it appeared that bright blue clouds were forming on the horizon. 

A sandstorm.

It was far away right then, but she knew from stories how fast they moved and how dangerous they could be. 

She walked through the market stalls and past one of the low marble domes, her feet seering in the scorching sand as she stared out at the gathering dust cloud. Behind her the sounds of the market merged and roiled into one great amalgamation of sound.

Her thoughts grew distant as she stared out upon the alien landscape.

And then something clamped around  the base of her throat. She gasped and choked but was assailed by an acrid smell hissing through her breathing holes and into her lungs.

Something gripped her tight about the arms and waist.

She choked and struggled, kicking at the legs of whoever held her, but even as she struggled, her body grew weak and her knees gave out. She felt her legs burning as she slumped to the scorching sand. 

Her head spun.

“Hurry, get her on the truck, we don’t have much time.”

“You get her feet, I’ll get her hands.”

“Hurry damn it.”

Her vision faded in and out, but she felt her body growing light, suspended through the air by unknown hads.

Her head lolled slightly. She watched the city recede upside down into the distance as she was unceremoniously chucked onto the back of the hover truck, whose engine roared and slowly began to slowly accelerate forward.

***

Adam clicked the top of the pen and slipped it into his jacket pocket, “Thank you for your help, sir. If you hear anything, call the number on the card I gave you, and a representative of the GA will take your statement, and dispatch a ship if needed.” The man nodded and raised the sand fruit he was eating.”

Adam turned on the spot, “You know I never thought th-” He paused when he found himself alone, and Sunny nowhere to be seen. He turned in a wide circle searching for her blue carapace in the surrounding crowd, but found nothing.”

That was strange, where could she have run off to

He walked a few steps forward, a tiny bit surprised when he found a good portion of the vendors to be packing up glancing nervously between the buildings and out towards the horizon. He Followed their gaze and paused nervously when he saw the large blue cloud rolling up over the horizon.

A sandstorm.

He really needed to get Sunny and get out of here. They might be able to beat it to the docking bay if they were quick enough.

But where the hell was she.

He took a few steps into the quickly vanishing market, and an arm suddenly caught his bicep, squeezing tight enough for a shock of pain to be sent up his arm. He jolted to a stop and turned to look at the one who had grabbed him.it was the man from the knife stand, with his colorful head coverings, and dark skin.

His eyes were wide and wild.

He placed a hand before his face, one finger over his lips to sush adam, and then     motioned his eyes towards the side of the market fervently. Adam nodded and the man let him go. The wind was beginning to kick up around them, and he pulled up his jacket collar against little particles of sand as they flew up into his face.

He broke into a jog as he headed towards the side of the buildings.

He broke from between two houses, his eyes scanning over the wide horizon. At first he didn’t see anything, but flipping up his eyepatch and taking a look through his augmented eye, he zoomed in on the landscape, and managed to make out a little white hovercade of vehicles driving towards the storm.

He zoomed in a little further, and froze.

Froze at the blue body who lay listless on the back of the rear truck.

His heart turned to stone, and rage welled up inside him the likes of which he had never experienced. In that moment, it felt as if he could have melted the sand below his feet to glass.

“Sunny!” He screamed, catching a mouthful of sand kicked up into his face.

A man rode past him on a hoverbike nose turned towards one of the distant docking stations, but as he passed, Adam grabbed him by the jacket and yanked him o a stop. The man yelped, “Hey, what.”

“UNSC, I’m taking your vehicle.” The man toppled and fell into the sand hand raised as Adam swung himself up onto the back and gunned the engine. The man’s yelling voice faded into a background of wind and spitting sand.

Adam pulled a pair of goggles down over his eyes, pulling a bandana up from his neck and over his face as little particles of blue sand stung his skin.

His one mechanical eye zoomed in and focused on the retreating hovercade. He switched gears and the engine roared as he pushed it to the max speed. The sand flew by below him in great waves and before him a wall of blue sand rose high into the air what seemed like thousands of feet in the sky. His heart pounded against his chest as the first wave of sand rolled over the hovercade, and Sunny was momentarily lost from his view. He screamed Sunny’s name, but his voice was lost in a massive gust of wind.

Darkness enveloped him as great waves of sand slammed against his body. His hands stung as did his hairline.

Up ahead the hovercade, which had been growing closer, was almost completely lost from view.

He screamed again in frustration and toggled his mechanical eye for ALL heat sensing wavelengths hoping that at least one of them would be able to penetrate the sand. Through the pulsing waves of darkness, little pinpoints of light managed to make it through to his eye.

He switched gears and gunned the engine, fighting against the wind and sand that whipped past him.

The wall of sand towered over him into the sky, impenetrable and powerful.

He snarled as his mechanical eye zeroed in on a source of heat flickering in and out in the ghosts of sand, and reached down to the sidearm at his belt.

And that is when the wall hit him.

It was so powerful it drove the wind from his body and threatened to throw him back off the hovercycle, but he lowered his head against great waves of whipping blue sand pelting his face and completely darkening the sky above. His mechanical eye was his only saving grace at that moment

***

The Hovercade pulled into the sand like they had done thousands of times. It was dangerous, but it was good cover, and no one would be willing to follow them. The half unconscious Drev lay hal in and half out of a tarp in the back of the vehicle which whipped back and forth with the powerful sand. A Tesraki sat at the front of the vehicle hunched against the sand blowing in through one busted out window,goggles low over his face as a scarf whipping out behind him.

Two humans stood in the back, crouched against the cab against the worst of the wind and sand.

One of them turned his head staring at the wall of blue behind them which broke and undulated like the depths of the sea. Great towering rifts opened up in the san, and light filtered down from above only to be enveloped again. It was in one of these beams of light, that he saw it.

A figure roaring through the whipping sand.

A lone rider on a hoverbike crouched low against the roarin sand.

He stood, and was nearly blown over hissing in pain against the sand. His partner turned to look at him and he pointed back to where the sand had obscured the figure. He tried to scream over the wind, but his voice was caught up in a gust. Another rift opened up, and his partner saw it.

The figure even closer now than before.

They pulled their weapons, hanging onto the bars on the side of the hovertruck to stead themselves. One leveled a weapon, but the figure was faster taking a single handed shot that tagged him high on the cheek and slammed into the metal of the cab.

He screamed and put a hand to his cheek firing another round.

His partner slammed  his fist against the caburging the Tesraki to go faster.

The man on the bike saw what they were , and slowly stood on the buddy pegs, bringing his feet up to stand on the seat, hands still resting on the bars.

This crazy bastard wasn’t actually going to-

He jumped.

Flinging himself into the air, impossibly high, with great billowing drapes of blue behind him, and lines of light nursing down from above. The boke turned sideways, was caught by a gust of wind and then plowed into the sand, erupting with a gout of fire that lit up the sand with a momentarily burst of orange light.

The figure slammed into the side of the cab hands latching on to the metal bars.

They leveled their weapons, but the figure lashed out, grabbing the first man by the front of his jacket and pulling him into the line of fire. He jerked once and then twice before falling still, two bullets in his back.

The figure threw the corpse aside and it bounced once before vanishing into the sand. 

The second man brought up his weapon to fire again, but the gun was knocked from his grip and out into the sand. An elbow to the face, and he was knocked to the round. A fist was drawn back plowing into the side of his head and knocking him out cold.

***

Sunny woke up with a roaring in her ears and sand spitting at her face. Her vision was cloudy and uncertain as she looked around, feeling something tugging at her.

She looked up, and through the sand and wind she saw a face. His skin was plastered with blue, and his usually blond hair looked almost green. It was Adam, kneeling next to her on the truck.

Sunny had no idea where he could have come from, but there hewas, standing over her. Her vision faded in and out, and she felt almost nauseous.

She could see the bandana he wore moving, indicating that he might have been trying to speak, but the wind was too loud. SO loud that it was almost impossible to hear anything.

That was probably why neither of them noticed the man slide from the front of the cab to lean out the rear window, didn’t notice the gun he held until it was too late.

There was a flash of bright light, and a sharp burst of sparks as the bullet took him high on his right thigh, bouncing off the metal but imparting enough force to cause Adam to slip back. 

Sunny saw, as if in slow motion as his foot was whipped out from under him, and he lost his balance. He fell forward slamming hard against the bed, hands scrambling against the smooth metal. She reached a hand for him,but her fingers were lethargic and stiff.

His right hand caught hard against the back metal, his body whipping with the sand behind the vehicle.

And then a boot came down on his hand grinding into his fingers.

Sunny watched in quiet horror as Adam’s fingers wen limp and then detached.

H was suspended for a second with his hand reaching out towards her, before he was sucked backward into the sand and vanished.

Sunny tilted her head looking up at the human standing over her, just before the boot came down and she was gone.

***

The white sun beat hot down on the blue dessert. The sky above was a uniform green grey and the air was completely still devoid of wind.

The ground was awash with large dunes of blue sand blown over from the sandstorm the night before, an unblemished mass of blue untouched by any living creature.

Until a hand burst from the blue sending grains of blue cascading down its arm. A shoulder broke through, followed by a head, hair completely saturated with the grainy azure sand.

It gasped and coughed, clawing it’s way to the surface, hands against the sand, palms burning in the scorching heat.

Adam pulled himself for the hole in the sand kneeling against the blazing heat.

He was breathing hard and his entire body ached and burned. But worse than that, worse than that was the thought of Sunny.

He had HAD her, he had been SO CLOSE.

He bent forward pounding his fists against the sand, “He could see her face, obscured by a swirling of sand as the Hovercade drove away.

They were going to pay for this.

They were going to die.

He leaned his head back and screamed, a raw animal sound made worse by the grainy san clogging his throat. He screamed and screamed and screamed until his throat choked with pain and blood came welling into his mouth.

He spit it onto the sand teeth clenched.

They had taken the wrong Drev.

And now they were going to PAY

[fleetwoodmactshirt]

roadtrip headcanons (requested)

i think they’d all have a different vibe and a different energy. i didn’t really rank them best to worst, i just explored what i think the vibe of a road trip with each of them would be like. i also let loose and slipped in some super self-indulgent personal hcs/one-shot au idea that is a WiP about ezra as an intriguing handsome stranger you encounter on your solo cross-country road trip. as a treat. s/o to @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ for suggesting whiskey’s fav song.

frankie morales is the road trip king. no matter how spontaneous, frankie can whip a road trip plan together smoothly. he’s got a spacious truck, he’s got a cooler, he’s got the coziest blankets, he’s got the travel pillow, he’s got the camping gear, he knows the best scenic routes, he’s got the best classic tunes, he’s got the best snacks. he makes homemade sandwiches and burritos, wraps them tightly in tin foil. he heats up frozen pizzas, cuts them into slices. he stores it all in the cooler for lunches. when the supply runs out, you gorge yourselves on burgers and fries at roadside diners. but every morning he’ll stop in the nearest town to buy some apples, or some fresh fruit/veg of some kind. if they’re ripe he’ll get avocados that he’ll cut in half for you both to scoop out with a spoon to eat plain while you sit together in the bed of his truck in the shade of a lake you’ve stopped at for the afternoon. but he surprises you with your favourite junk food and snacks. he lets you borrow his cap if the sun is in your eyes; he’s got a spare, more threadbare one in the glove box. he’s low key done the research on the best places for stargazing; you lie back nestled together under a blanket, in the bed of his truck, gazing upwards; you listen as he describes the constellations, tracing them out with his finger.

max phillips. business road trips but max’s...condition necessitates driving at night only. liminal spaces. driving through the night, sleeping in business hotel rooms during the day, dust motes floating in the thin streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the curtains you’ve pulled shut. you see incredible sunsets and sunrises from the highway. you also see some undeniably weird shit late at night on road trips with max. he watches you eat breakfast food at 2 am in neon lit 24/7 diners. while on the road he passes you lots of candy throughout the night; he stocks up from the hotel vending machines. but no matter how much caffeine and sugar he tries to fuel you with, sometimes you’re lulled to sleep by the peacefulness. you nestle your head against max’s shoulder; it’s not the most comfortable position to drive in but he can’t bring himself to readjust and shift away from you. solitary brightly lit gas stations that are like an oasis of light breaking the pitch darkness. the two of you feel utterly alone sometimes; the world has shrunk down to only you, max, in this car, driving along this empty, dark stretch of road, a blush of purple on the edge of the horizon signalling the dawn.

based on how oberyn canonically took his daughters to explore an abandoned holdfast, i think his road trip energy would be all about the journey and not the destination. road trips with oberyn and ellaria would be meandering and adventurous. sometimes you’re riding shotgun and sometimes you’re sitting in the backseat with ellaria laid out and napping beside you, sun hat dipped down covering her eyes, her long legs stretched across your lap. if the three of you come across a motel you enjoy he’ll feel no urgency to leave; the days blur together and soon you’ve spent a week soaking up sun by the pool and sleeping in late entangled together in a pile of limbs after long passionate nights. day by day you may not even travel very far; he wants to stop and explore. hike amidst rock formations, swim in hot springs, explore the local museums; whatever catches his or your fancy. if he sees a billboard on the side of the road advertising local caves, or a petrified forest, or hears rumour of nearby ghost town that’s all but disappeared off the map, you’ll suddenly find yourselves veering off down small country roads, hours from the highway, seeking out pleasure, adventure, mystery. 

marcus has a hilton rewards card so you’re staying at hilton garden inns every night. clean sheets. comfortable beds. complimentary breakfast. it’s very pleasant. middle class fancy. holds out his hand for you to drop some snacks into his palm so he can remain focused on the road while you’re both munching. let’s you curate the spotify playlists.

roadtrips with javier are always last minute decisions to just take off, head to a gorgeous but isolated beach you’d heard about that’s a few days from here. he doesn’t get many opportunities for long stretches of time off, so when he does you don’t hesitate. you might not even wait for a rational time to leave. it’s midnight and you guys just speed off into the darkness. you just threw some essentials into a bag, jumped in his jeep, and booked it. you gotta buy toothpaste and toothbrushes at a gas station, and you borrow javi’s deodorant stick because you forgot yours. greasy fast food containers, half-empty cigarette packs, and snack wrappers litter the dashboard. his aviators perched on his nose, one hand resting on the wheel, the other curled around your thigh, javi on a road trip is relaxed. he’s leaving all his burdens, his worries, everything weighing on his chest, all of it, behind him. literally, the more distance you guys put between yourselves and where you were, the more uplifted his spirits. when your favourite song comes on the radio, and you’re shimmying in your seat, he can’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze flicking between you and the road. he sings along under his breath, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a slow smile spreading across his face.

whiskey pulls up to your house at 5 am on the dot, the obnoxious custom sound of the horn of his bronco rattling the windows and scaring the birds out of the trees lining the street. country music jams ONLY. you argue over his taste in music; does he enjoy being a walking cliche? he will not accept any song that doesn’t have a twang to it. he’d be an aux cord hog if he knew what an aux cord even was. so much for your favourite spotify road trip playlists. “spot fly? spot what fly, where?” still has mixtapes he made himself, the same ones he’s been playing since forever. forces you listen to all his favourite songs, the ones he knows all the words to, while he obnoxiously sings along and ignores your eye-rolling. but he doesn’t ignore how your feet start tapping absentmindedly to toby keith’s ‘whiskey girl’. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk that quickly becomes a broad grin as he reaches over to smack your thigh, laughing he’ll make a country girl of you yet. startled out of your daze, you vehemently deny you weren’t enjoying the song, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. he insists he knows the best places to stop, which means you always end up driving far off the highway to some little mom and pop diner that has killer apple pie for lunch. in the evenings you always end up in some honky-tonk bar that’s joined to a motel and yes, there’s line dancing, and yes he manages to twist your arm and convince you to join in. 

ezra…..as a man who’s floated from planet to planet, following jobs and leads, for the better part of his life, he’s found himself smooth-talking his way into being a lot of people’s unexpected travel companion out of necessity over the years. road trip ezra is on the run from someone or something; maybe the law, maybe not. all you know is this beautiful, mysterious stranger you met under dubious circumstances somehow, with his roguish grin and drawling accent, his kind eyes and eloquence, convinced you to let him ride along with you. you ran into him in the grungy diner attached to an even grungier motel in some desolate nowhere town. you recognized him; he’s unmistakably the lone figure on the side of the dusty road, his thumb stuck out, that you drove past yesterday. you’d driven past but that blonde streak had been unmissable and you won’t admit it but you’d felt his gaze on you long after you’d left him in the dust. ezra’s endless chatter on the road isn’t unwelcome; he knows seemingly innumerable facts about local folklore, flora, and fauna, and he never seems to be depleted of stories. you’d made the conscious and contrary decision to make this cross-country road trip alone, rebelling against a lot of cautionary advice, but somewhere along the way loneliness had creeped in under your skin and settled there. this handsome stranger may have an edge of danger to him but later when he’s bringing you to heights of ecstasy in a motel room you won’t give a damn.

maxwell lord flies everywhere in a private jet. the worst.

din djarin’s entire life is basically one long never-ending road trip. but in space. i figure earth-bound din on a conventional road trip would basically be how we see him: no nonsense. no frivolities. no music; travels in total silence. gets where he needs to go. stops for soup, as needed. stops for repairs, as needed. stops to work an odd job with some really sketchy people for some gas money, as needed. din’s road trip energy would be like that john mulaney joke. you’d see the mcdonalds sign lit up and shining in the distance and plead for him to stop so he’d pull into the drive-thru, order one black coffee and keep driving. except if you’ve got the baby with you; he gets a chicken nugget happy meal for the kid. he’s a good papa! and of course you’d get whatever you wanted too, he provides and cares for his loved ones after all.

SEND ME ANY QUESTIONS/HC PROMPTS/REQUESTS YOU HAVE

[grim-faux]

2 _ 22 _ A Flawless Order  

First

 The factory was alive. Parts and sections once cold and silent, now howled with the intent of struggling through a monotonous existence in a world that would forsaken it. After however many years it lulled since the contraption ground into inactivity, it is remarkable that the place still mostly worked. From within the bowls of the construction arose indignant grinding and screeching, the whole of the operation not entirely seamless. It might yet come undone at the seams and rip itself apart.

 For the time, he supposed, the child was on some sort of mission. Or something. It was too much to hope that the boy was not in the heart of a prelude to a disaster.

 Hunched awkwardly in the doorway to the office, the Thin Man scrutinized the reverberating clashing and mincing with a raised brow. He wondered what the factory produced… or what it once created. Certainly not televisions. The Signal Tower provided those. He did feel an inkling of sympathy for the lost children.

 The pummeling din dampened a great deal when he shut the door. It was far too much activity, energy, such a… racket. He would wait for now, let the child fulfill his compulsion for exploration. When the kid was ready, he would resurface. That’s how this usually worked.

 Beside the little package of food tossed onto the desk, an intercom receiver and control pad lay embedded in the dusty surface. It didn’t matter if the device forgot its purpose, could no longer carry the current and fulfill its role. For so long the device has been inert, lonely and neglected.

 He swept his hand over the tarnished panel, the lights beside the scribbled slots blinked. The static thrummed, physically manifesting in vibrating particles.

 “M͘҉͟o̡͡no͞,” he projected, through the receiver. From beyond the thick cinderblock wall, his projected call reverberated with a metallic echo. The Thin Man sat at the desk and bent forward, as if he needed to speek directly into the contraption. “P̧a̶gi̢͢n̷̡͞g̡̕͠ ̛M̴o͘͡n̸͝o͢.̵ ̵̨̕W͏̢͝o͢u͠l͟d҉͡ ͜Yo̢͜u̡ Has͠t̸̵̸e̶̸n̢ ̶̕Y͞o͝u͞͏r̴̶͟ ̶C͏u̷̶r̸r͟e̡nt͟ Ą͡cti̢v̴͝i̴̕͝t̴͞ies̴͏,̴͢ A̧n҉d̸ R͟e͟p͢o̴͡r̢̧t͘͜ To҉ ̸̷T̸҉h̢e͏̨ ͠Ma̸͢͞n͜a͏̢ger̶̨’̵s͜ ͠O̢̡ff͠i̸c҉҉ę.̷”

 Perhaps the child would get a kick out of that. Or not. It might remind the boy that he was still waiting. Alas, some things never changed.

 __

 On the other side of the factory, or more to the middle, or off center of the near center.

 The strange flower growing from the cement pillar garbled some speek. Mono paused on the catwalk and gave it his attention, but hesitantly. Only because the flower was unusual and sounded like the Thin Man, but he wasn’t certain what it was saying. It was distorted. Also, why was the flower speek? Trick? Did flower catch the Thin Man?

 For a while he stared down from his perch with his hands on his knees, tilting his head. It couldn’t get him from up here, he thinks. The flower didn’t say anything else, but maybe he wasn’t moving. Some nasties only reacted to movement. It didn’t know where he was.

 He pushed up into standing and hurried away, checking along the metal grate for something he could lift. Some pieces of metal, a little bit of pipe (too small), this ratty old glove. He spied a canister a little ahead, and rushed to snag that. Racing back over to the flower, he chucked the canister off the platform and managed to knock the whole funnel off the wall. Direct hit!

 On a path below choked by vapor, emerged the mechanic, glaring down at the shattered flower spread across the ground.  

 Yeek!

 Mono ducked back a step, but it was meaningless. The Mechanic turned its glare upward, and if he could easily see the creature below through the grate, then there was a good chance it saw him as well. This suspicion was confirmed when the heavy clatter of boots began pounding below, a snort trumpeted out. A ladder was somewhere down there, but he didn’t remember specifics. He took off on the walkway in the direction he had initially been going, gaze sifting for a way down or cover. The catwalk was tol, and ahead the rail bent aside.

 An earthquake shook the surface beneath his feet and he nearly lost his balance; walking on the uneven and porous surface was challenging, now he was at a full dash with a boulder rebounding across the floor. If that wasn’t enough, a bleating crack tore out and a large metal tool smashed against the rail. Right above his head!

 Mono stumbled and grabbed for his hat. Though the metal piece was quite large and very solid, it’s impact would easily scatter him to the furthest corners of the city. Fortunately, it ricocheted over the handrail and zipped out of sight. Far off into the factory.

 Plenty more where that came from.

 Mono grabbed the support bar at the bend of the walkway, striving not to lose speed as he whipped around onto the new path. He leapt a sequence of steps and roughly hit the bottom rung, but with a little grumble recovered and stole back his pace.

 Steam gushed and the machinery squealed, heaving pistons thrummed around him; it was hard to breath with how thick the air was. He wasn’t used to being so heated through, and the sauna seeped into his lungs, choking out his ragged breaths.

 Nonetheless, his pace never faltered. Not even when a fuse clattered against the floor, too near and much too loud. The crash splint his hearing, and suddenly the rumbling groan of the factory became distant. The vibrations through the platform rattled up his thin legs, threatening to splinter his bones right inside his body. If… he had bones, like Her, that is. That was still a mystery....

 The Mechanic is catching up. It’s catching up, it’s pace quickened as it closed on its quarry. A bellowing cough tore through the space between them, the force of it blunted by Mono’s impaired hearing. But he can feel it; the rocketing footfalls thrashing his swift but shorter strides. The creature has something in its clutch, he’s certain. He can’t see, won’t look – Flee! It’s right on top of him, but hasn’t decided if it should kill outright or maim him beyond recovery.

 Off the side from the platform, a section of moving parts of the machine lumber methodically through their mindless operation. Mono doesn’t second guess the leap and dives off the side, aimed for one of the gears a little below. As he falls and his coat swooped around him, the dilemma of his timing surged through his mind.

 Was too soon? Too late? Low. But is far!

 Nonetheless, he braced his body for the impact trusting he had momentum. He dropped short, his fingertips barely catching grip of the eroded tooth of a gear. It swings upward in its clockwise motion, carrying its feathery cargo. Mono heaved up, trying to fit himself into the dip before the other tooth of the reversed gear can clench—

 The tool swatted against the gear, an inch beneath Mono’s toes. His fingers popped loose, and he fell, first smacking his shoulder against a bolt in the center of the gear, then spiraling three or five full turns in his terrible descent. Somewhere in the vortex of his plunge he smashed into a corroded slate, with wires strapped across the length. In a panic he grappled for a hold, but the steam and grease wouldn’t permit anchorage. He skid backwards reaching still, and suddenly nothings beneath him….

 Falling!

 He crashed to the floor at last, landing somewhere beneath a canopy of winding pipes. Without allowing a brief to recover, no he shoved himself upright and scrambled for better protection among the sprawling networks. In some patches the pipes have a base extended to the cement, massive bolts skewer a plate in place. These clusters Mono shuffled around or beneath when he could, some expelled waves of heat. Other pipe bundles have a lattice frame built around them, while others have caved over time. Patches of light from the factory ceiling gleamed down, he can see enough to get around without several concussions.

 Little by little, his hearing began recovering from the calamity it endured. The wheezing of machine guts and rattle of something within the pipes, pilfered through his muddled senses. It wasn’t totally restored, everything was more off and he couldn’t recall how booming the place was before the short reprieve.

 His musing is abruptly shattered when a ragged gloved-hand stuffed down into a space of the pipes, not far from where he was hunched low. For a moment he stalled and held his breath, holding perfectly still. Through the clog of machinery, he couldn’t figure where the Mechanic was now. The thick, cracked fingers clawed at the gravely floor, stretching and poking to their extent. Blindly.

 If move, see? Did see but didn’t grab? Miss?

 Mono wasn’t sure, but if he stayed put for much longer, an eye might peer into the opening. The blackened fingers still grappled at the vacant space, sensitive to movement, maybe even smell?

 Right when the hand began shuffling away, he made his move. Easing in closer to the pattern pressed into the dirty floor where the hand had clawed… he zipped by and kept going! Faster and picking up as much speed as he could, while in his half-blind-folded stance. Above somewhere a breathy snort carried over the racket of hissing pumps, the hammering boots trailed his swift trajectory somewhere to the side. The pockets of scarce radiance flickered against the swift dash of the Mechanic, bearing down on the knotted canopy but barred from an opening. 

 Mono didn’t chance a glance, all his focus maxed in diving in among the pipelines and anchors punched into the cement. He dropped and skid on his knees, upon reaching a barricade loaded with debris. He scrambled over himself, backtracking a few feet and took an opening in the mesh of a grate. The hole wasn’t large enough for him to push through, he barreled into the rusted metal and kept going when it vaporized with minimal resistance.

 A screech shot forth overhead, too close! The pipes arched above him caged him from the Mechanic and a clear reach – maybe-MAYBE it could squeeze its hand into a gap – but not quick enough to grab for the flighty Mono. He barely glimpsed up, only to check once where he was headed in relation to his cover.

 It was a little too late for him to register that the next opening he squeeze through led onto the open floor. Not even a pathway, but a break between one collision of mechanical limbs chugging away, and another Tetris of gears and hydraulics hammering away. All at once he was free of the overbearing heat, the steam evaporated and the confining embrace of the pipes shrugged away from his coat.

 Mono spun around, his dry coattail swept across his knees. Go! GoGoGo!

 He darted to the other side of the metal amalgamate, charging at an open portion beyond a narrow trench. A gasp of steam chuffed a meter or more off, but what caught his attention was the heap of melted skin and chains creeping through. When Mono locked view with it, the Mechanic dove toward him.

 With every ounce of his dash power, Mono peeled towards what he hoped was a narrow opening beneath the grate. He stuffed his shoulders through the fence by the path and tumbled, barely making it back to his feet as he galloped awkwardly toward the crevice. The fence slowed the Mechanic but a moment, he simply hopped it and was once more clomping towards his target, gasping on the acrid fumes.

 The opening was narrow and too small for the Mechanic to reach within. However, it was also very not long. It was a trap he would be cornered within, and Mono didn’t even hesitate to take in what was beyond the little tiny haven before he was hurtling out once more.

 For a second, the Mechanic was stumped. It grumbled to itself, voice becoming distant and distorted by the howling conveyor belt shrieking nearby. Mono was still in the open, but he had the chance to take in the area. Get out of sight for a wink. Enough to lose the grotesque focus of the creature.

 Thick cables rose high in his path, the eventual end fading from view high above. He stuffed himself between the narrow space, nearly swimming as he heaved through among available spaces. The narrow passage at least too miniscule for the Mechanics reach, quite possibly, beyond its vision. From elsewhere, a gruff bark announced its agitation. That still sounded too close.

 The floor gave out suddenly, and Mono lost his grip. He toppled down a steep incline into a lower basin beneath the chugging machinery. With haste he rolled over into a crouch and gave the area a sweep with his eyes, searching for movement through the veil of fumes and ripples of heat. The edge of his hat was saturated with sweat and his scalp drenched, be blinked at the salty sting in his eyes while he struggled to peer through the blur. He thought the Mechanic was nearby again, but it hadn’t made a sound yet. It could be prowling….

 Or could be sneaking up behind him!

 Nothing was near which should warrant any panic. Mono kept skimming his gaze around the thick pillars, swinging machinery, all-in-all, whatever was moving. Before rising to move, he pulled back his coat from his leg and checked his knee.

 A red blotch stained the pants. It didn’t hurt, or he couldn’t feel it. The cut might’ve reopened, but he did fall pretty hard. For now, he left it alone and made note on it. Worse would happen if he didn’t keep his wits, got distracted with pointless distractions.

 He weaved through a pillar thicket, following beside the steep slope he skid down. At times he climbed over a broken gear or other castoff equipment, such as pipes or a random tool – usually rusted and coated in thick grease that had a foul odor. Even the twisted body of a Viewer found its way down here, but likely toppled in from the ceiling. By now, the factory was so thick with fog he couldn’t see hardly anything beyond the spires of cranking metal limbs.

 Movement to the left, behind a stairway and a mesh of fortified scaffolding, spooked Mono into diving low. Even if he’s too far away and likely obscured by steam, he takes no chances and tracked the malicious shadowy patterns drifting beyond the barrier. He’s certain it is the Mechanic by instinct (and how his luck has been today), and abruptly began sifting among the pipes and dips in the floor. He detached from following the side of the slope and opted to cut directly through the corroded jungle, to the best of his ability. Down here there lay no landmarks, everything was the repeated meshing of mechanical portions gushing steam, twittering, or bellowing heat.

 It takes a while of his dodging and cautious navigation – every time a pipe hissed he tucked down and hid, even if he knew it wasn’t the Mechanic - but finally, he reached the other side of the dip and another ramp. With no indication of the Mechanic, and going a while without catching that horrible thunder of boots, he’s feeling much safer. Make no mistake, Mono knows he will never be safe – him or the Thin Man – with the creature sneaking around. It lost his trail, but that wouldn’t last.

 He had a hard time trying to scale up the slope, to the regular floor. It’s not that steep, but the surface has a fine swill of grease and dirt, and his feet are sort of wet too. The drama is actually tiring him out, and he relented for a while to pick his way further along and find a space that wasn’t so icky.

 The floor proves to be as much of a hinderance as the Mechanic. He probably doesn’t skid around on the flat surface, on account of the layer of dirt. He can’t climb up the slant by conventional means, but it’s okay. He climbed the side of a section of scaffolding near the slope, and from there gained enough height to leap off and nearly reach the edge. When he hit the peak of the incline, he flailed his arms but managed to flop forward. With a tremendous heave, he vaulted over the slant and stands on flat ground. At last!

 Where is he? This place is different, but it’s all the same factory. Vibrating wheels, tugging long conveyor belts above the floor – sometimes higher. Pipes with the little round things sprouting like weeds. He hiked along, crossing through an open path and went to the fence on the other side. So far no sign of the Mechanic; that is not good. He’s happy to not do the flee, but now where is it? Somewhere, watching?

 Mono turned his gaze up, and spun around as he moved among long metal vents stretched across the floor. One of the elevated pipes forced him to crouch down very low, the surface and air about it heated, and broiled his skin through his ever faithful coat. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this dry, he felt like a crispy leaf discarded from a tree.

 The boundary of the drumming machinery ebbed little by little, and he reached another fence. Nothing on the other side appeared out of place, aside from it looking much more open than a pathway. First confirming no movement among the fringe of heated vapor, he squeezed through the bars and examined the floor. A path was still open, but it was much wider and littered with ruble; from the ceiling, he thought. Through the haze above, something hovered, like a walkway, but higher. He followed a clear path towards a sequence of steps, which rose to a platform upon a cement block.

 From this new vantage point, he gave the portions of the surrounding factory a hurried scan. With his scout satisfied, he checked on the tall stand fitted to the platform. It was almost too high to reach, if not for the chair anchored beside it. He hoisted himself onto the ratty seat and from there leapt to the slanted surface.

 The corroded panel carried colored buttons, like a television remote. But many-many more. He accidentally knelt on one, and a rackety clunk rebounded from the fog above.

 Mono nearly jumped out of his skin when a chain thudded to the cement floor, generating a head-splintering crack, as well as forming a shallow crater in the path he had been on.

 LOUD!

 He fumbled on the controls, something he hit or knocked made the chain recoil by an inch or more off the floor. Not so loud, but still! Flee!

 Carefully he let himself down from the stand and took off, sliding beneath the rail and dropped to the gritty floor. He made it to the nearest fence and zipped through the bars, exactly when a racket of boots bombarded the scene. A little more cautious and not as panicked, Mono maneuvered low among the pipes and coils of wiring stretched beneath a layer of rotten, black texture.

 Out there and above, the boots descended into view from a ladder he previously overlooked. It was directly behind the podium he was clambering all over!

 In the dark he crouched, watching as the Mechanic plopped heavily to the floor and orbited the platform. Snuffling, grumbling to itself. It rubbed at the knob of its head beneath the cap. He hoped this time he didn’t drop anything, but he didn’t linger around to find out. He crammed himself between a narrow space among the wiring and kept going. Ever and always mindful when large pipes broiled, or a random space gushed a thin thread of steam.

 For a very long while, Mono lost track of the Mechanic. A feat which never ceased to make him nervous, but he kept silent and more astute of whatever he was handling, if he had to leap onto something else. It was mostly navigate the floor beneath the machine, and one other time he climbed a chain to reach the height of the catwalk which stretched above the factories convoluted shape. Somehow in all this exploration, he didn’t hear or see trace of the creature.

 He did find a doorway! More like a large bay entrance, it is something he recognized from a book. A supply entrance, for stuff to make goop! Or to send colorful boxes away. Whatever it opened up for, it was a way out to somewhere else. He found it by following a big path, which was a kind of a small road. But not like the chewed up roads that lay among the cities crumbling buildings.

 A lever to the side wall should open it, he thinks. The stretched cords go to the doors at the top. Unfortunately, when he dangled from the lever, nothing happened. It drooped under his weight, but… it needed a fuse.

 He let go and inspected the current fuse in the slot. It had nothing in it, he could tell by just the feel of it. Mono had hoped he was wrong, but no. Another fuse had to be around, a good one. Maybe he could take the one that awoke the factory.

 But how far away was that? And dragging it, among the ruble and collapse? With the Mechanic lurking? That would be hard, if not disastrous. He’d keep the option open and try to find his way back, but the course encircling the factory was not without hazards. The whereabouts of this door remained a mystery, but if he followed the wall as closely as he could, he might manage to make it back to the other fuse.

 In places, a portion of the wall caved in. Didn’t collapse entirely, but it was a wall within a wall, and not a way out. Some paths lay bloated with ruble, or parts from the machines interwoven pieces. With all the swirling fumes, he couldn’t see far, and didn’t know exactly… where he was, at any time. It was impossible to maintain a sense of direction, but a strong unknown power might be at work.

 When he emerged from a division among the pipes and twisting vents, he found an area of the wall intact. Which left his route open for exploration. What caught his interest immediately was an open door and what looked like a window, but the glass was dark. And there was no rain of boards on it. Some sort of clothing or uniforms, like what the Mechanic wore, lay draped on the floor and across a bench by the wall. Belts too, with a few tools. The Mechanic did have a fuse at one point, maybe he’d find one here!

 However, approaching the open doorway did spook him a bit. It reminded him… of the Hospital, for some reason. Maybe being alone, and it was dark inside. Did the lights not work? The fuse woke up the factory, but didn’t make the bay door work. The office light came on, because of the Thin Man.

 Mono blinked at the ceiling. Slowly he raised his hand toward one of the lamps dangling by a cord and tried to focus, on ‘asking’ the light to come on. Asking may not be right. The Thin Man didn’t do anything, he just stood there. How did—

 The first two bulbs burst in a firework of sparks, and Mono catapulted backwards. He scooted back on his butt scrambling to get up, but a sound – a not too scary noise – ensnared his attention. Poised by the bench, he looked around. It was very faint, beneath the howl of the gnashing and hiss of the factory itself. Sounded like metal-on-metal clink. He looked up.

 It was easy climbing up onto the bench, and there he found a box. A shut up box with two clasps on one side, and hinges, with a little strap atop. He leaned against the side and tapped.

 Nothing. Hmm. He shuffled and scooted the box, trying to get an easy reach at the clasps.

 Something inside moved! He heard it!

 Mono bounced back and crouched at the bench edge, glaring at the box. Something was inside that. Something alive. Maybe an animal. He kind of knew it wasn’t any sort of animal. But… it could be just an animal. It could.

 Inching over to the box once more, he shifted it around until he could view one of the clasps. Whatever was inside thumped around, the random settling of weight there or here made it difficult to really move the clunky thing. At last, he could fix a firm grip on one clasp and tugged it. This or that way, the thing was latched hard. Like glued to the container.

 With a sigh he stood back, and gave his area a good search over. He needed to stay focused, getting caught wouldn’t help anyone. He could always come back. If he got the— no, that was a dumb idea. Even without the Mechanic getting up to no good, it wouldn’t work. The worst could happen, and he didn’t want to think about that danger.

 Electing no grace, Mono just rammed his shoulder to the container and let it plunge to the floor. It wasn’t a far fall, but unexpected it would be. The clasps still faced him, and now faced skyward. He plopped down onto the front and pried at the sturdy latches. With every ounce of his mightiness, he braced his feet and knee to the surface and heaved! Shoved!

 Clack!

 One undone. He paused to catch himself and rally up for round two! Good thing he ate before leaving. With a firm struggle, grinding his teeth, nearly losing his grip twice, the second clasp sprang free. He toppled over the lock, a little winded and sore, but completely fine. He just needed to gather his wits.

 The lid was open, but he didn’t hear anything inside. He shuffled over to the opening and pried at the now visible crease, forcing it wider by a foot.

 “Hey,” he whispered. Maybe it was just an animal. Whatever, he wasn’t about to climb down in there. “Psst?” he hissed. “Hai?”

 At last, the whites of something eyes peered back up at him. Mono gazed in, and the contents of the box glared back. He shifted on the top of the box, forcing the lip up a bit more. The face was dirty and cheeks gaunt, he couldn’t make out the clothing. Rags, it seemed. The eyes felt so barren and accusatory, as if he invaded. Was it just the one kid?

 Must’ve been, because they shot out through the side of the container, away from Mono, and hit the floor running. As he recoiled backwards, he watched them veer off to the fence and the machinery beyond, until the figure faded in the choking haze.

 That wasn’t weird or anything, he reflected. Briefly, he checked around and within the container – only a peek – in case there were other kids. That… he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not. He settled on not thinking about it.

 At least he didn’t have the awkward dealing with a kid that wanted to pack. Not that he didn’t want to pack, it was confusing right now. It would’ve been nice to have someone to help, and keep an eye out. For a little while, at least. Until they didn’t want too anymore, or something like that. He would understand this time. Sure.

 Mono slipped off the container and ventured in the direction the other kid went. They likely found the space he came out of, but he needed to find another passage through the machinery. He would try and reach the office, and check if he missed any fuses.

 First however, he slipped between thick cement pillars and scooted into a substantially cluttered space, overburdened with pipes and thick vents. Sleep was impossible with the sweltering fumes and the churning machinery, but he needed to stop moving for a bit. Curl up by a pipe and rest his eyes, but no sleep. Not even half sleep.

 The kid bailing didn’t bother him. He understood. Getting locked up like that. Caught. Doomed. Kids helping other kids out of traps and cages wasn’t a thing. Risky business, and why bother? The kid got trapped, they were pretty bad at the one rule. Caught, you’re as good as dead. Some didn’t get as far as caged.

 He shuddered.

 All in the past. Focus here and now. He can’t let his guard down. He nestled down in his coat and pried one eye open, again searching the fog swirling among the cables. Clear. No movement. Alone. No one to watch. No second set of ears. No one to catch him if he fell. Just him.

 Mono.

Next

[inkheart01]

The Crossover conundrum

Or the DOOM x EFTS crossover nobody but I was interested in

Alternative title: Someone builds a dimensional hole puncher and the first one thru is Doomguy

I'll edit when I have enough brainpower to make words do the pretty thing. Bonapitete. Enjoy. Here's my disaster. adios

The day started like any other, though Calle didn’t know whether to call it day, night, dawn or dusk, or everything and anything in between considering she was floating around in a giant warship in some sector of the galaxy that she had no possible way to pronounce. She took pride in knowing that she was the furthest human away from Earth. No, that was a lie. Last she had checked, Jade was on the other side of the ship. But still, the sentiment was valid.

A rough blow to her shin spurred the young woman out of her stupor. She whipped towards the culprit, who was buried half under a giant ring, deep in the guts of the mechanism. Calle didn’t know what it was and didn’t want to.

Jemma pushed herself out from the behemoth, signing for a helping hand before clambering back under, pale face stained with dirt and mousy hair slick from sweat.

Calle reached towards the nearby mess of supply’s, handing Jemma exactly what she had asked for.

Which meant that moments later, she had front row seats to watch as the girl channelled her inner high schooler and rocket out from under the ring, tossing the literal hand with all the strength and speed of a professional pitcher.

And then she came for Calle, going straight for the talkers ankles as she ran, laughing and crying in mad glee.

Almost lost in the cacophony of joy, the machine beeped loudly, once, twice, three times.

Then it screamed.

Bathing the room in a violent red glow, it sprung to life, gears and cogs churning as it wailed, beeping and flashing in a wild symphony of horror.

The two girls sprung to action, Calle slamming the button to the intercom, screaming over the chaos as Jemma lunged towards the beast, twisting knobs and levers in a mad attempt to silence it. Time seemed to drag on ph so slowly as the two battled against the towering ring, desperate to quell it before the ship tore in half from its quakes.

They almost missed the door shuddering open like a camera, an influx of children and aliens pouring into the room and into action.

Jade was still in her flight suit, and Calle briefly realised that she would have to apologise again. The self-proclaimed pilot never got to fly.

Ian raced to help Jemma with the controls alongside Rochelle and Hunter, the towering aliens orange complexion drowned out by the violent red.

The only one who seemed to sink deeper into the glow was Max, who, alongside Hayley and Bayley and Adam, took up defensive positions around the machine, guns drawn and ready for anything that emerged.

The rest, Calle, Jade, Eviee and Maeve rushed to tear into the machine but were forced back by another shudder.

Which meant that the whole of the Lazarus’ VIP crew had first-class access to the portal swirling with a sickening green, and a metal giant emerging.

Towering and frightening, the human emerged from the portal, shotgun at the ready and so impossibly imposing.

Clad in green armour, the man was a sight.

And then he charged. Far too fast for anything human, he barrelled past Jade, past Ian and Adam. Straight for the triplets standing guard.

Calle cried out a warning, unable to help as the siblings leapt aside, followed closely by the man.

And then, almost in slow motion, the door opened again, revealing the tiny shape of Emily, bathed in light. She stood with her bear clutched tight, eyes wide and searching. “Teddy?”

And the man froze, turning to the six-year-old in shock.

Taking the moment of opportunity, Max lunged, all 11feet and 4inches of alien crashing into the man like a freight train.

But the man was quicker, spinning out of the Rashikk’s way. But he didn’t account for the aliens head-tail.

Quick as a whip, the length shot forward, desperately trying to wrap around his armoured neck, but with little luck. And so Max lunged again, dodging the arm blade and pulling the man to the floor with a strength that anyone who had seen a Rashikk fight, would know was a mere fraction of their might.

And anyone who knew Max, also knew that he was just waiting for an opportunity to unleash hell.

And that presented itself in the armoured man on the floor, who, with startling strength, pushed the alien off and lunged for his Shotgun, the weapon having been knocked aside in the calamity.

But Adam was faster, nimble and quick, he scrabbled for the gun, tossing his rifle to Calle who easily slid into his place, gun aimed at the man and finger on the trigger. Adam slid under the man's arm, gun in hand as the warship lurched.

The armoured man slid, unaccustomed to Vivaane’s piloting, or the alarming nimbleness of the Lazarus, and Max took the opportunity to force the man's helmet off and knocking him out in the process.

Hours later, after the crews buzzing had died down, Captain Kalishnamara strode was not the medical wing, intent on finding out what the incident was this time.

But nothing could prepare her for what she saw when the doors opened.

Eight humans flitted around the room, Emily was perched on Max’s bed, bear in her lap as she laughed at her adopted father's antics. Eviee and Jemma, ever the scientists, were drilling into the half armoured man confined to the room, a dark robot at his side, translating. Jade, Rochelle and Ian were watching, transfixed as the Rashikk triplets tried and failed to beat Adams score for the fastest time to take apart and re-assemble a gun.

And then there was the Askiir, Maeve, the one she trusted the least, who was hovering nervously around Eviee. She had nothing against him personally, but when one gas the ability to manipulate emotions, there will always be a slight distrust, at least in her experience, Eviee seemed fine with the lanky bug.

Jade was the first to notice Kalishnamara and snapped to attention seconds before everyone else, bare the two newcomers, and Emily who was using the wrong hand, but no one held that against her, and if they did, the Lazarus fleet was always ready for a hunt.

“At ease. Alright, I’ll keep it simple. Someone’s already given me the incident report and I’ll get around to it when I have the patience”, Eviee made quick work of translating the Rashikk’s odd symphony of clicks and whistles that made up their spoken language. “All I want to know is if there is a body count”

“Not today”, Bayley answered cheekily, earning a laugh from those in the room that could understand, and leaving the last two to Waugh’s for Eviee translation.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way a little longer”, finally moving from the doorway, she stalked towards the newest members of her VIP crew, noting something peculiar in the way they communicated.

Leaning down as not to be overheard, she motioned to Jemma. “You both speak in the language of hands, yet you cannot understand each other without translations. Why is this?”. Though she was still not fluent in Jemma’s hand language, she understood enough of the basics to cobble together a sentence.

‘Different hand language. Different Home’

“I see. Thank you”. The captain rose to her full height, and the man glared, unknowingly annoyed at feeling oddly small not once, nor twice, but three times since coming through the portal. Was this what everyone else felt when he walked past?

Eviee dutifully translated the aliens oddly melodic language, a strange sound to come from creatures so adept at war.

“On behalf of the Crew and Residents, I welcome you aboard the Lazarus” the robot thanked her, introducing himself and the man. Flynn and Vega. Odd names, but who was she to judge. “I am Captain and Fleet Commander Kalishnamara. But you may call me Lisa. It is a nickname, as I am told.

“You will be regarded as VIP guests while aboard, much like everyone in this room. Please, referring from breaking any of my men why we try to get you home. Now, any questions?”

“Just one actually”, Vega spoke up, “how can you understand them?”

It took Lisa an embarrassingly long time to realise that the robot had been talking to Eviee, who was desperately hiding her laughter from the confused Captain. But still, she managed to pull her source up and reveal the thick golden band around her bicep. “Universal translator. It hurt like hell but is incredibly useful. The downside, both speaking parties have to have one to be able to communicate.”

Flynn turned to look towards Emily, who was squealing as Max and Rochelle bickered.

“What’s the diagnosis doc?”

“You want my diagnosis? Your gonna fuckin die!”

“Don’t worry about her”, Eviee waved off the giants concern. “She doesn’t have one. We’re working on an alternative”

At that same moment, Lisa turned towards Max. “I was told that no major injuries were sustained. Why are you in Ned at?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The beds are just comfortable”

Lisa sighed as she left the room, muttering about needing a drink. Followed by Jade, Calle, Ian and Adam, the rest of the Chaos club, two aliens, a robot and a confused mountain of a man and a six-year-old and her stuffed bear.

The day ended like any other, in that the Days without Incident board was wiped clean, five new reports were written up, and the crew was abuzz. The only new thing being that the armoury was now locked, indefinitely.

[fanficimagery]

Because We Got High.

Relationship: Billy & Reader Warnings: Drug use (it’s just weed) & language. Words: 1,820  Tags: Fluff & humor.

Billy's been driving around for the last twenty minutes, music blaring and smoking cigarette after cigarette as he looks for Max. She was meant to be at one of her friends' houses, but the little shits apparently jumped from house to house without telling anyone. Everyone was meant to be at the Wheeler's- and boy was that fun having to see Karen Wheeler answer the door side-by-side with her husband, squirming and with pleading eyes to not utter a word of their previous flirtations- but the kids weren't there. So Billy drove to the Byers', and again no luck.

The Sinclair household only had one mouthy little girl that Billy briefly found amusing, and it was she who directed him to the Henderson's.

"Just walk right in," the little girl Erica had told him. "My brother and his friends will most likely ignore the doorbell and Ms. Henderson likes to chase her evening pills with alcohol."

"For being a kid, you know an awful lot about what Ms. Henderson does at night."

"I'm thirteen, you mullet wearing bastard." She had sassed him- actually sassed him before slamming the door in his face and all Billy could do was laugh about it.

The kid had fire and he liked it. It was rather refreshing.

Then having gotten back in his car, he memorized the directions to the Henderson household that Erica had given him and drove.

Pulling up outside the Henderson house, Billy stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray before cutting the engine and climbing out. The lights are all on inside, so he wastes no time stomping up to the front door and ringing the bell.

No answer.

He tries the door knob and it's locked.

"For fucks sake," Billy grumbles, growing agitated.

He then decides to pound on the door with a closed fist, but again there's no answer. There's a TV blaring somewhere inside, but he rather not start peeking through windows and risk the neighbors calling the cops on him. Instead he stomps around to the back of the house and is intent on pounding on the back door, yelling until someone answers him. But the moment he steps foot in the backyard, a strong familiar scent hits him full force and he stumbles to a stop before looking for the source.

Dusty and all his little friends had decided to come over and you knew there'd be no peace in order for you to watch a couple of movies as you had planned. They'd all congregated into Dustin's room which was just right next to yours and immediately they were a loud mess. So after making sure your mother was nice and tuckered out downstairs in front of the TV, you went back into your room and into your closet.

At the very top, very back of your closet was your secret stash of weed that was only smoked in emergency situations. And this? This was an emergency of boredom that you needed to quell right away.

So after making sure you had everything in your box, you tuck it under your arm and go back downstairs to exit the back door. In your backyard is the only thing left that reminds everyone of your fathers presence before he split- a large treehouse in the sturdiest tree that Dustin and his friends usually chilled out in when they weren't inside.

There's an actual staircase that wraps around the tree and you climb them all the way up to the house itself. Then plopping down in one of the bean bags, you set the box in your lap, open it up, and smile as you stare down at its contents.

After rolling a blunt and lighting up, you take a deep drag and let the smoke settle in your lungs before blowing it out. Drag after drag, your body starts to loosen up and you quickly find yourself sprawled on the floor of the treehouse.

You have more than enough weed for another blunt and you lazily start to roll another one.

Before you can light up, however, a voice stalls you.

"You do know the entire back yard smells like weed, right? You looking to be busted?"

Rolling over, you belly crawl to the door and look down. Standing in your backyard, looking far too handsome for his own good, is none other than Billy Hargrove. "You gonna be a narc, Hargrove?"

He walks over to the bottom of the stairs, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Do I know you?"

"Nah. We don't have classes together, but you made an impression on all the little sheep at school. Name's Y/N. I'm Dustin's sister."

"Hmm." He glances at the house once more. "So can I just walk in and grab Max or..?"

"They got a D&D session going on, so good luck, man."

Billy huffs and turns around, stomping up to the back door and entering your house. You watch, lighting up your second blunt of the night and wait. A handful of minutes pass before Billy exits alone, looking a little more agitated than he had moments before.

Chuckling softly, you hold out the blunt so he can see the embers burning bright in the night. "Need a little relaxation while you wait? Come on up, Hargrove. I don't bite." Billy sighs but makes his way towards the stairs nonetheless. Laughing as he ducks to enter through the door, you roll onto your back and hold out the blunt towards him. "Welcome to Stoners Anonymous. I'm Y/N and I'll be your host this evening."

Billy's agitation is quickly wiped away and a smile takes place of his scowl. He takes the offered blunt and holds it to his lips, taking a long drag as he lets his head fall back and eyes close in pure bliss. Blowing out the smoke, he then takes a seat. "That's good. Who's your dealer?"

"A good customer never reveals her sources until at least the third smoking party."

"Whatever you say." He takes another hit, letting his gaze wander around the spacious treehouse. "You know, a good host usually has snacks for when the munchies hit."

On cue, your stomach rumbles and Billy chuckles as you groan. Cursing quietly, you sit up and crawl over to a stack of crates that act as a stand of cubbies. Pulling out a walkie talkie, you turn it on and hold down the button. "Calling all nerds. Calling all nerds. Take a break from D&D and bring me some noms. Over."

Billy grins, passing the blunt back to you. You take a drag as the walkie in hand crackles to life. "Are you high? Over." Someone giggles before it cuts out.

"As a kite. Now bring me some noms. Enough for two. Over."

"Two? How much did you smoke?!"

"Don't question me, Dusty, or I'm telling mom what really happened to Mews."

The walkie goes quiet, so Billy asks, "Mews?"

"Mhm," You distractedly nod. "Mom's cat that she fucking adored more than her own kids. My idiot brother brought home something feral and it ate Mews. We had to tell her, her beloved cat ran away."

"That's wild."

"Alright. What do you want? Over."

You first pump victoriously. "Pizza rolls."

Billy's nose wrinkles. "Screw that. You got cash? We'll drive and pick up burgers."

Your eyes widen as you beam at him. "You're my new favorite person! Here. Finish it," you tell him while passing the blunt back to him. "I'll go get some cash and shoes, and meet you out front."

Tossing the walkie aside, you watch as Billy picks it up to speak into it. "Cancel the rolls. Y/N and I are driving for food instead."

"Billy?!"

He smirks. "Hello, Maxine. Since you and your nerds are taking forever, I'm taking Y/N for food."

A bunch of rambling comes over the walkie and he clicks it off, tossing it on one of the bean bags. Then with the blunt between his lips, he exits the treehouse and saunters down the stairs.

By the time Billy makes it around front, you're standing rather impatiently in the middle of the sidewalk. All the kids are on the front stoop, glancing between you and him.

"So you two are friends?" Dustin asks. "Since when? You don't socialize, Y/N."

"Whatever. We officially met tonight. Shared a blunt and now we're the best of friends!"

"The best," he leers, coming up beside you and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

All the boys grimace.

"I don't like it." Dustin grumbles.

"Too bad. I didn't like Mike when he first came around."

"Hey!"

"No offense, Wheeler," you quickly amend. "And now look. I adore all you fuckin' gremlins, but that's about to change if you don't let me leave and get a burger."

"Fine!"

"Fine! Let's go, Hargrove."

Billy flicks the remainder of the blunt to the ground, smirking as he turns and leads you to his car. You readily open the passenger door and climb on in, waving at your brother and his friends who suspiciously keep watch of Billy. After settling in and Billy settling in as well, his engine roars to life and you laugh as AC/DC immediately blares at you.

He peels out in front of your house and you hang your right arm out the window to feel the wind rushing against it.

"Come on, Billy. Show me what your baby's got."

Glancing at you, Billy slowly smirks. He turns down one of the back roads, pressing harder on the gas and picking up speed. You laugh, leaning your head towards the opened window and letting your hair whip every which way. "Whoooo!" You scream.

As you settle back into your seat, your bright eyes land on Billy as he splits his attention between you and the road. "Where the hell have you been since I've been in Hawkins, Henderson?"

You waggle your eyebrows. "If you'd stop bullying Harrington, hot shot, you'd find me napping somewhere in the room."

He huffs. "Don't tell me you're fond of boy wonder?"

"Eh. Steve's decent." Billy scoffs. "No, I'm serious. If you boys would get over your egos or whatever shit is keeping you from actually being cool with each other, you'd see Steve is a hell of a lot more tolerable than Tommy. Because seriously, gross. You can do a lot better than Tommy, my dude."

"You talk a lot. I'm honestly surprised I've never met you before."

"Mhm. I think I'm possibly one of the last remaining females who hasn't taken you for a ride."

"Just name the time and place, sweetheart, and we'll rectify that."

"Smooth, Hargrove. Very smooth."

"I try."

"Well try driving faster because I've got a serious case of the munchies and if you don't feed me soon, I'm gonna get cranky."

He chuckles. "Whatever you say, Henderson. Whatever you say."