#pool cleaner au

[lohstandfound]

If I combine the posts I made about Jake being the victim of a murder mystery on his 18th birthday with the regicide au...

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #1

CH1. Home Style | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Jim’s Midnight Grill wasn’t the magical place the name made it sound like.

In fact, it was worse at night. Hawkins' only diner sat on the outskirts of town, just before the road that took you out alongside the cornfields. In the height of a sunny day, the water tower cast a shadow over the old building and the gas station next door only had one working pump.

The leather booths were constantly sticky, the table tops grainy with spilled salt, but if you made your visit on a Thursday night after nine, milkshakes were two for one. The back alley was littered with cigarette butts, graffiti on the walls telling you who to call for a good time— and someone called King Steve used Farah Fawcett hairspray? The regulars were permanent fixtures on the bar stools, coffee stains on the counter in front of them, stolen sugar packets in their pockets, frowns on their faces.

The staff didn’t want to be there, the owner refused to replace the flickering lights and the cook had a bad attitude and liked to communicate with heavy sighs and eye rolls. But he made a mean grilled cheese. The walk in freezer was reserved for the pitiful weekly deliveries and breakdowns, a stolen kiss or two. Or three, or four. But no one liked to tackle the clogged sink and god forbid anyone change the TV channel— Mr Creel always had something to say about it.

—————

Honestly, Hawkins wasn’t your first choice when you decided to move to a smaller place. The idea of a big city was all fine and well until you lived a year in Chicago, the dream of a brownstone apartment quickly disappearing when you realised jobs were hard to come by and finding friends was even harder. Living alone wasn’t all that fun, especially when your landlord hinted at sexual favours to justify late payments and he didn’t care to fix the leaking radiator in your bedroom. The nights were never quiet and the city hardly slept, but instead of neon lights and late night bodega runs, you lay awake on the broken spring in your bed and flinched at the sound of backfiring cars and people arguing on the street below.

It was lonely, living somewhere so big and busy and always eating dinner by yourself. So you sold the old car you didn’t really use and cried enough that your landlord eventually gave in and ripped up your lease that still had four months to go. Packing your stuff was an easy enough job, hardly enough belongings to fill the duffel bag you’d dragged with you. You dug into the back of your freezer for the wad of cash your grandma gave you, threw it into the bag and grabbed your greyhound ticket and decided you’d get off the bus when the skyline turned a little more green. When the buildings shrunk, when the smog lifted and when wildflowers sprouted from between the cracks in the sidewalk.

So you rolled into Hawkins before the day broke, way before the sun crept up over the quarry, before the small town came alive. The apartment you’d found was the same tiny size as the one you’d had in Chicago but it was cleaner and the carpet was new. Nothing leaked. Nothing smelled weird. The parking lot was filled with cars and none of them had bullet holes in the side, your trash can wasn’t on fire and god, god, the first neighbour you saw - an elderly woman who was walking with a yorkie on a leash - smiled at you.

She smiled at you.

So despite the lack of twenty four hour stores and pizza parlours, Hawkins was already looking up. There wasn’t much on the Main Street, a library, a tiny bakery run by a couple who offered you a free croissant as a welcome to town gift. There was an outdoor pool with sun bleached bunting across its chain link fence, an arcade next to a video store, a high school that was derelict due to the summer months. The larger houses across from the park were lined with cherry trees, neat lawns with white mailboxes and flowers under the windows and suddenly Hawkins was a million miles away from Chicago and the buzz of traffic and car horns.

The librarian let you print out some resumes the day after you’d settled in, and you found your way around town by asking kind strangers, buying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in exchange for directions out of your neighbourhood. It was easy to stroll along the sidewalk with an iced latte and your headphones around your neck, blue skies above you and the sound of sprinklers in their yards, breathing in air that didn’t smell like diesel. You found a man by a rundown garage, white haired and tired looking, mechanic scrubs tied around his waist as he smoked a cigarette.

You took a deep breath, and then another one, smiling politely - warily - as you approached. The man lifted a brow at you, a little suspicious, but he held the burning stub away from you, smoke billowing in the opposite direction.

“You lost, kid?”

You were. Just a little.

“I’m looking for Jim’s, uh,” you glanced down at the pink flyer that had been pinned on the library's notice board. “Jim’s Midnight Grill? I got told it was out this way, but—”

You looked around, noting that there wasn’t much out this way. The busiest part of Hawkins was behind you, tidy sidewalks giving way to long roads out of town, a lone bus stop by the garage, a farm in the distance across the street. You squinted against the sun and shrugged.

“You wanna keep going for ‘nother mile or so, it’s just before the town sign,” the man pointed further out where the cornfields were overgrown and the sun faded billboard told everyone ‘thanks for visiting Hawkins!’ You weren’t sure the bus ran that far out. “Jim should be there, but if he’s not, jus’ ask for Eddie, he’ll sort you out.”

“Eddie,” you nodded, peering into the distance. You couldn’t see another building, but this man didn’t seem like he was lying. “Right, okay. Just keep to the road?”

The man nodded and he cracked a smile, small but soft. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and gestured to an old pick up that looked like it had seen better days. “You needin’ a ride?”

The urge to say yes was strong, especially after walking all the way from your apartment as the heat soared. It snuck up on you like a slow roll, going from pleasant to warm to too hot, far too quickly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin underneath your sundress but you shook your head, shyness crawling up the back of your neck. Accepting a ride from a stranger didn’t seem the wisest idea, no matter how kind he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

The man smiled again, a little bigger this time, crows feet crinkling, the sunlight catching the white of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s alright, kid. Jus’ tell ‘em Wayne sent you, yeah? Follow the road, you’ll see Forest Hills - the trailer park - keep going a lil’ ways and it’s right across the road.”

It turned out Wayne was right.

You kept walking, the heat soaring, the fields on either side of you growing taller but you bit back a smile at the sight of the wildflowers that snuck through the cracks in the concrete. Eventually they gave way to a trailer park, just as Wayne side, a quaint place that hummed with generators and had lines of laundry between each mobile home. Across the road sat a sandy lot, a diner in the middle, a neon sign letting passer-bys know they’d arrived at Jim’s Midnight Grill. Except the ‘r’ was loose, hanging from its wire and buzzing blue and purple.

Cats patrolled along the roadside, going from trailer doorsteps to the back alley of the diner, hoping and waiting for a free meal that they all knew would eventually come. You stopped to pet an orange kitten, a little scruffy looking thing but cute all the same, your CV clutched in one hand as you peered suspiciously at the front of the restaurant. It looked too quiet, like it wasn’t open yet. But there was a black van parked along the side of the building and some steam leaked from a vent on the roof, so you opened the front door.

The bell jingled but the patrons at the dining bar who sat on their stools didn’t move, didn’t turn to look. The place was nearly empty, some people nursing a coffee, some staring blankly at the buzzing television screen that was mounted in the corner. No one stood at the host desk, the menus stacked messily, the phone off the hook. In fact, there wasn’t a server to be seen as you made your way to the counter. You grimaced as you leaned on the surface, elbows sticky, avoiding spilled coffee the best you could. You waited, resume still in your hand, patience on your features.

No one came.

So you rang the bell that was on the bar top for the very purpose of gaining attention, but the man beside you glared at the noise. Still, no one came. The fans overhead squeaked and whirred, the TV fizzed with bad signal and from somewhere behind the open serving hatch, you heard the clatter of pots and pans. You tried to crane your neck to see through the window, steam and smoke billowing from it, the slight shadow of maybe a person moving through it.

The person swore, dropped a skillet and swore again.

You leaned in further, elbows on spilled salt grains and drops of ketchup, trying to gain a better view into the kitchen from the bar top. “Hey, ‘scuse me? Can I— can someone—”

You huffed as the figure moved out of sight, falling back onto the stool that squeaked and the man next to you snorted into his coffee cup. You frowned and took further action, sundress falling back around your thighs as you hopped off the chair and made your way to the side of the counter that lifted up. No one paid you any mind, no one at all, but you still hesitated before ducking under the bar and hovering by the hatch. You could smell garlic and sage and something a little sweet now you were closer, the scents of the kitchen winning over the stale coffee, cigarette smoke and engine oil that clung to the patrons clothes behind you.

You peered into the kitchen, your paperwork still clutched to your chest. It wasn’t much cooler in here than it was outside, the AC unit broken and the fans working overtime to combat the heat. The kitchen seemed empty now, a stovetop still on despite no one to supervise it, flames licking high up the sides of a steel pot, big enough for you to fit both feet in. There was something inside bubbling, foam rising to the top and chopped courgette and red onions sat on the workbench beside it, abandoned. A radio played, staticky and fuzzy, an old sixties tune floating out to mix with the smoke.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man. So big and so strong, come a little bit closer, I’m all alone.”

“H-hello?” You cleared your throat and braced yourself to speak a little louder. Stronger. Braver. “Hello?”

No one answered. In fact, it seemed like the entire diner was run by ghosts, no waiting staff, hosts or cooks to be seen. Maybe you’d imagined the silhouette in the smoke, maybe the heat was finally getting to you.

“No customers back here, what d’you think you’re doin’?”

You startled, jumping back a little only to knock an elbow into a half filled coffee pot, the brown liquid thankfully lukewarm but it still spilled across the countertop, soaking into stray packets of sugar and scattered napkins.

“Oh, fuck, uh—” you grabbed at whatever dry napkins were left, hurriedly mopping up the spill before it dripped to the floor. Old coffee dotted the red and cream tiles, into the gaps between your sandals. You grimaced and looked up, only half paying attention. “Shit, I’m really sorry, I just— there was no one there and—”

You stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks hot, eyes wide. The person in front of you was half hidden behind the serving hatch, but he was scowling through the window with a ladle in his hand. Big brown eyes, unnervingly expressive and dark hair to match, unruly looking curls that were pulled back with an elastic band in a bun that wouldn’t have passed a health inspection.

A boy, unfairly pretty, and annoyed looking with tattoos peeking out from his chef whites, a black paisley printed bandana knotted around his neck. There was a furrow between his brow, lines etched there so deep that it made you think they were a permanent fixture on his handsome face.

“—no customers behind the cash desk, sweetheart, you look bright enough to understand that.”

Your mouth fell open, a burn creeping across your cheeks. Annoyance settled in your chest but you realised you weren’t quite brave enough to do anything about it. So you lifted your resume and slapped it on the hot steel ledge that separated the kitchen from the coffee bar. “No one’s working,” you tried to explain, gesturing with one hand to the empty diner behind you. “I rang the bell—”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The boy scoffed, raising a tattooed forearm to wipe away the sheer layer of sweat from his brow. “Havin’ a spa day? Shit, no one rings the damn bell, don’t you know that?”

You scrambled for a response, the burn on your face growing hotter, an awful clawing feeling coming across your chest. You swallowed, your throat tight, but you pointed at your CV once more. “I’m here for the job opening. I need to speak to Jim? About the kitchen porter role?”

The stranger laughed, a breathy thing that you didn’t think was supposed to come across as mean as it did, but it stung all the same. You shrunk a little, a hardly seen thing as the boy turned his head to check on whatever was bubbling in the big pot. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a dick about it, but uh, I don’t think you’re cut out for the kitchen - sorry.” He turned back to you, a slightly more apologetic look on his face instead of the frown. “You understand, right?”

You were speechless, just for a second. Blinking away the confusion, you made noise of protest as the boy started to move away. Your hand touched his bicep and he swivelled back, scowling once more. You snatched your hand away, glancing at your fingertips as if the ink from his tattoos would have stained them black.

“Sorry— it’s just, I, I need a job.” You swallowed, hoping none of the customers could hear your desperate plea. “I just moved into town and honestly, I’ll take anything, like anything. I’m supposed to talk to Jim— or Eddie?”

The boy seemed to mull over your words for a second or two, a passing of sympathy or something just as kind coming over his features. He sighed and shrugged, turning away to stir the pot before it boiled over and he shouted at you through the smoke and steam. Not meanly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the music, the hissing of the stove, the hum of the freezer. “I dunno where Jim is, sorry.”

You deflated, sliding your stack of papers off of the ledge and back to your chest. You tried not to appear too frustrated as you asked, “what about Eddie? Someone - a guy, at the garage - he told me to ask for Eddie.”

The ladle clanged against the pot, some soup - or maybe stew - spilling out the sides. The boy frowned at the mess, dragging a rag over the spots before he glanced up at you. You tried to smile, tried to tamp down the watery doe eyes you knew you couldn’t help but have on show, but you felt desperate. Leaving Chicago with nothing more than the bag on your back and no plans was suddenly seeming like an awful idea.

“Sorry,” the stranger said again. “I dunno an Eddie.”

—————

Sitting in a sticky leather booth in the corner of Jim’s Midnight Grill for another hour turned out to be worth it.

Just before two o’clock, a man walked in, greeting the same customers who were still nursing their coffees with a muttered ‘hello,’ a familiar thing that everyone grunted back at. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with a moustache and a shaved head that was covered with a battered wide brimmed hat. He looked more cowboy than business owner, checked shirt dirt covered boots and all, but you heard someone call him Jim and you were up and running after him.

Your sneakers stuck to the linoleum tiles, the ‘shtick shtick shtick’ of your soles pattering between the aisles of empty tables until you caught up with the man just before he disappeared into the kitchen. He raised his brows at your sudden appearance at his elbow, wide eyed and hopeful as you clutched the same resume you’d tried to hand the cook, the pieces of paper stained with coffee now.

The man lifted his chin to a small table before you could speak, gesturing to two chairs by the window. You startled, wondering what was happening as he pulled out a seat and pointed at you to sit in the other one.

“You’re new, right?” The man - Jim - fumbled with a packet of cigarettes, most of them crushed and bent, but he found a good one to lift to his lips. He lit it and blew smoke upwards, staining the already yellowing ceiling. “Here, in town?”

You nodded, unsure how he knew that. You guessed that news travelled fast in a place as small as Hawkins, so you decided to elaborate for the sake of talking. “Uh, yeah. From Chicago. I’m inquiring about the, um, the porter job?”

“What’s your name?” Jim leaned forward in his chair and poked gently at your forearms. “You don’t got a lot of scars, you done soft jobs? No kitchen stuff before?”

The AC unit kicked in and rattled a vent above you as you stared at the man, trying to work out what he meant. Stammering, you told him your name and passed over a resume, pointing out your last few jobs, doing your best to try and make them sound more professional than they actually were.

Librarian's assistant.

Barista. For two weeks.

Cashier at a knock off Chuck E. Cheese.

“I guess they’re what you could call, uh,” you squinted Jim, floundering for the word he’d used, “soft jobs. But I’ve got a scar on my knee from pulling a kid out of the ball pit. He’d come straight from little league, he still had his spikes on and there was a considerable amount of blood even th—”

Jim stopped your spiel by jamming a thumb back towards the kitchen hatch. You could still see the boy there, pretty and scowling all the same, a dark curl falling from his hair band to fall over his cheek. You watched him blow it away and flip something in a skillet, the sizzle of it just heard over the music, the bad TV in the corner of the bar.

“You ever worked a kitchen?”

You shook your head, stomach sinking. ‘Fake it til’ you make it,’ failed you once before, and the owner of the coffee shop in Lincoln Park quickly realised you were wasting both your times when she discovered you didn’t know the difference between a mocha and a latte. “No, sir.”

“Our line cook is real particular ‘bout who we put in his kitchen with him,” Jim pointed to the boy, who’d now been joined by someone else. Another male, one with even longer hair, sleek and dark and they seemed to be arguing over blocks of cheese. “Now I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw you in there—”

Dread bubbled in your stomach. If you didn’t manage to land this job, you weren’t sure where else to look. A small town brought on few opportunities, and you’d already exhausted most of the businesses on Main Street. “Sir, please, I—”

“—but there is a waitressing gig available.” Jim frowned as he tried to remember the details. “Full time, forty odd hours if you don’t mind doing lates.”

“Yes!” You blurted out the answer too loud, loud enough for the customers to turn away from the TV screen for a second or two. The boys in the kitchen peered out the hatch, one curious, one annoyed. “Yes, sorry, yes. I’ll take it, thank you.”

Jim nodded and stubbed out the amber end of his cigarette in an ashtray beside the sauce bottles. “Easy enough job, minimum wage, you keep any tips you make.” He listed off each point on his fingers. “You start tomorrow.”

You could only nod back, eager and grateful. “Of course, yeah, sure. Uh— do I need—?”

Jim waved you off, already standing as he lit up another cigarette. “Just come by for eight, Eddie’ll sort you out with a uniform, locker, that kinda stuff.”

You frowned, confused. Looking around the quiet diner, you wondered if there was someone you hadn’t noticed before, but the number of visible staff members remained the same. The two boys in the kitchen, the pretty cool who you’d spoken to back at the stove, tasting its contents with a teaspoon.

“Uh,” you coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. “I thought— I thought there wasn’t an Eddie who worked here?” You pointed warily to the boy with the messy curls, the black tattoos across his exposed forearms, he was staring at you, like he knew you were talking about him. He was scowling. “He said there wasn’t.”

The noise and heat of the diner and the summer outside didn’t do anything to diminish the embarrassment you felt at Jim’s next words. His gaze followed to where you were pointing and snorted. “Kid, that is Eddie.”

[therandomartmaker]

DPxDC, of dead hearts and brothers.

danny is damian’s older brother au; reincarnation type. danyal is the soft-hearted but still exemplary heir, but convinces ra’s that it is better to have him be the right-hand to damian, losing his heirship. ra’s, having danny as his favourite (cough danny and his inability to not be involved with old creeps lmao) allows him this; thinking that it’d allow danyal to be protected and also give him another option for youth (taking over damian’s body, afo-shigaraki style /hj)

this is all fine and dandy until ra’s decides damian has reached an equal skill to danyal’s stagnant training, and sets up a fight to the death. the lazarus pits are always there for the al ghul family, after all. he expects danyal to win. he expects damian to learn that all of his children are disposable. precious, but tools for ra’s’ use (all except precious danyal, the heart that kept giving).

danyal dies, damian’s sword stabbed into his heart, his last advice to “drive it in harder.” and his last words, “congratulations, brother.”

they bring him to lazarus pit, but it takes him. he sinks into the pool of acrid green and they wait; hours. a day. a week. he doesn’t resurface. they continue waiting because what else are they to do? they are al ghuls, not danal. not precious danyal who could mourn.

this proceeds, a sigil at the pit’s edge once a month, waiting for the lost son to return; but eventually damian is brought before the bat (far less dramatic, ra’s was tired of damian’s growing frustration without danyal to soothe him but no assassin’s had the same emotional state as danyal to provide a pseudo-sibling to play the same role; thus the bats’ family was the next option)

the bats only find out abt danyal when damian sets up for a day of fasting, facing the direction of the pit.

it’s dick who asks why he is fasting, and damian explains calmly. They learn of the boy who knew kindness, of the al ghul’s heart, of the prodigal heir turned advisor to damian. they learn of damian’s brother. when they find out why he’s dead, horror drips down their spines, at damian being forced to kill someone who’d only done good for him.

damian has one thing to say; “Danyal’s advice was not ‘how to kill’. i killed far better than he, after all. i was efficient, but danyal worked cleaner. Danyal’s advice… was ‘to kill your heart.’”

time moves on; damian is adjusted to ‘outside life’ far easier, danyal taught him how to interact with others and understand that words are rarely literal. the lazarus pits are quiet, madness unlikely in those brought from it, and jason affected far less in the long term. until one day there is a knock at the manor door.

alfred opens it, to see a dark haired young adult, assassins’ garb, injured. he does not seem conscious. alfred brings him in; calling the rest to reach a decision on how to treat him, and what his intentions are.

Damian wakes up to the sight of his brother in the moment that damian killed him.

[livmadart]

Ran vs. the Phantom Thieves

Set in the Phantom Thief Twins AU and taking the place during the Black Star heist! Please enjoy this, it was really fun to write! Shoutout to my amazing lovely editor ^_^ <3

One by one, the lights flickered off down the hallway. Ran suppressed a shiver, hunching her shoulders and drawing her hands to her chest. Clutched tightly in her grip was the Black Star, a giant, flawless pearl: the target of the night’s heist.

Why did it have to be me? Ran grimaced. Of all the bad luck…

Problems had followed one after another that night, each escalating in cosmic ridiculousness. Her dress had been late from the cleaners, delivered by an apologetic employee only moments before she had planned to leave. Her father slipped away from her the moment they stepped foot on the boat, becoming embarrassingly drunk in record speed. Then there was the collision with Sonoko’s mother, sending their broaches—which were supposed to be replicas of the Black Star—clattering to the floor, evidently mixing them up in the process. When Kaito KID, landing lightly as a dove, deduced that the real Black Star was being held safe by its owner, a pit opened up in Ran’s stomach. Slowly, she sidled through the crowd and towards the nearest door.

Gloating at the futile ruse, the thief held the pearl delicately up to the light—and cut his monologue short. Shrouded by top hat and monocle, he cast his gaze over the room, and seemed to lock on to Ran’s soul itself with uncanny speed. His stance shifted from a poised gentleman into that of a predator preparing for pursuit. But before he could make a move, a wave of undercover police crashed into the thief. Ran seized the chance to dash out the door and down the hall.

And yet, that only won her a brief respite. The lights switched off, one by one by one…and she soon found herself stranded in the darkened corridor, cursing the strange way her luck had drained away.

The police are probably arresting him now… right? She told herself, ignoring the unsteady tattoo beating in her chest. As a champion black belt, Ran would never be afraid of some measly thief whose tricks were no match for her fists. But one distinctly nasty rumor, whispered about the thief after his miraculous return, just wouldn’t leave her mind.

Before his disappearance eight years ago, Kaito KID was known as a relentless, but chivalrous, gentleman thief, descending like an angel in white to whisk away his target. But now, witnesses told tales of a team: Kaito KID, sweeping and grand as he ever was, and a second, ragged figure lurking in his wake like a detached shadow. They called this one the Phantom Baron—king among ghosts—and described a wraith wrapped in bandages and tattered clothes, armed with a shining, wicked blade. It seemed to take pleasure in scaring guards senseless—and all too frequently, those guards would turn up dead before the night was ended. Although the killer was usually quickly caught, be it a jilted lover, a cruel debt collector, or a slighted friend, the trail of bodies was simply too clear to ignore—

Sure, Ran could handle a human thief, but a demon was another matter entirely.

A rattle overhead broke her out of her thoughts. In the dim light, she could make out a vent cover above her, which trembled, then swung open silently like the lid of a tomb. Stumbling back, she watched, transfixed, as a liquid shadow dropped bonelessly to the ground.

Writhing in a way no human should, the pool of darkness collected itself, rising up on four spindly limbs. Its wrapped bandages unraveled to reveal a half-shrouded face—leering at her upside down.

The thief balanced in a backbend, spine arched severely. Its single visible eye—a startling, piercing blue—never leaving her face, the thief pushed upwards, contorting around to face her, flowing forward in a single move to reach for the pearl in Ran’s hands, its long fingers grasping like claws.

Deep, primal fear washed through Ran in an icy rush—and when faced with such fear, Ran was a girl whose instincts would always firmly choose fight.

Faster than the eye could follow, her foot snapped up in a deadly kick, forcing the thief to rear back at the last moment, its eye blowing wide. Ran closed the distance in an instant, ready with a deluge of punches strong enough to crack concrete. Again, the thief barely dodged, slipping under her flying fists like a snake. It brushed her side ever so lightly, but when she whipped around, the Black Star pearl was already shining in its grasp. At that moment, the moon burst through its cover of clouds, flooding through the portholes to illuminate the thief’s sharp, toothy grin.

“That could’ve really hurt,” the Phantom Baron exclaimed breathlessly. He spoke in a rough voice, but its higher pitch gave Ran the impression of someone young. The crazed grin remained fixed on his face—he seemed almost excited. “You almost caught me.”

Ran stepped back, shifting into a defensive position for a retaliation which never came. Instead, the thief reached for his saber, which hung from the bandages wrapping his waist. With a flinch, Ran’s eyes shrank to pinpricks—is he really going to attack?—but the thief just whirled his weapon deftly before launching it at the porthole. The glass shattered into a spray of tiny diamonds, glittering in the moonlight like the caps of the waves far below.

Without a word, the Phantom Baron dove for the porthole, slipping through the impossibly tight window. Ran stood for a moment, stunned, before rushing to the porthole, mindful of the jagged shards of glass left behind. She could see the thief plummeting through the night air, holding tight to a length of bandage attached firmly to the saber’s hilt. The weapon sailed forward before him, its blade separating and segmenting strangely until it looked more like a grappling hook, latching neatly onto the railing of a lower deck. He used the sudden tension to swing off the side of the ship, the long tails of his scarf-like bandages trailing behind him until they suddenly snapped into shape, forming a pair of tattered wings. Gliding on the ocean winds, his distant figure was swallowed shortly by the night, and followed closely by a silent white sail.

With a shuddering breath, the adrenaline left Ran all at once—just in time for the lights to snap on and for the clatter of the police’s clumsy pursuit to reach her ears.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Sonoko chided, not for the first time. “Kaito KID is unstoppable! It was all my mother’s fault for the stupid trick anyways.”

Still, Ran hunched lower, unable to forget the events of the night before. Was there anything different she could have done? Was there something she had missed? Even now, walking to school in the plain light of day, the memory of that dark hall turned over and over in her head.

“…There were two,” she mumbled, which may have been an excuse—or perhaps an admission that things had truly been out of her hands.

Sonoko blinked. “So it’s true? You saw it? The Phantom?”

Ran nodded, a little numbly. “It—he—moved weirdly. All twisty limbs. But I think… it almost sounded like he was having fun.”

They came to an intersection, waiting on the curb for the light to turn. Sonoko, stars in her eyes, leaned her head back into the clouds where her head so often resided.

“Dark and mysterious!” she gushed. “The polar opposite of my lovely, charming KID. I wonder what he looks like under those bandages—!”

She cut off abruptly, fixed on something across the street. Ran followed her gaze to find a trio of teens on the opposite curb. A girl, notable for her mane of wild, wavy hair, chatted happily with her companions: a pair of perfectly, completely identical boys, differentiated only by the unkempt appearance of one, and the carefully combed look of the other.

“Twins!” she exclaimed, in a slightly crazed tone that warned Ran of the ridiculous fantasies to come. She gripped her best friend’s arm, looking at the boys appraisingly. “They’re cute, too… Can you imagine, Ran? If we married twins, we’d be sisters!”

The light changed, and the three teens started to cross. Ran cringed, hoping Sonoko wouldn’t speak so loudly as they passed.

Except, just as Sonoko’s idealized future reached a fevered pitch—joint weddings, vacations, even conjoined homes—the twin with the messy hair offered a spray of playing cards to the girl walking alongside them. While she was distracted, his other hand reached around to unzip her backpack, causing her belongings to spill out onto the ground behind her. He laughed loudly as she dropped to the ground, cursing him out the whole way.

Seeing this, Sonoko cut herself short, curling her lip.

“What a childish prank. How disappointing,” she huffed.

The other brother watched his twin’s antics blankly, looking distinctly bored. Without a word, he pressed the toe of his shoe to his brother’s shoelace, holding it down against the ground. Still taunting the girl, the unkempt brother moved to leave her, only to come crashing to the ground himself.

Regarding him through half-lidded eyes, the neater brother smiled coldly.

“Might as well help Aoko out while you’re down there,” he suggested, before turning on his heel and walking off. The girl, having collected her things, stuck her tongue out at the boy still sprawled on the pavement before running off.

“Serves you right!”

The crosswalk counter ticked down, forcing Ran and Sonoko past the scene. Sonoko moved on as soon as they were out of sight, circling back to her theories on the pair of phantom thieves. Ran, however, couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder at the retreating figure of the reserved boy, who had doled out his strange, lopsided justice.

[chasedbyunclewalt]

A whole bunch of random extremely specific headcanons I have been thinking about forever for dating all the different dead poets~~~

Charlie

Hear me out

He’s the ‘tough’ one of the group

This is terrible but I think the dead poets made him tell Todd about Neil because no one else could bring themselves to. (I wanna write a fic about this so bad)

Charlie aggressively cares for all his friends

He needs someone to aggressively care for him

So when you guys are alone it takes time for him to lose his tough guy facade

But when he does he’s kind of a baby

Clinging to you

Wanting attention

Having someone to care for him is so foreign but he loves it and tries to care for you the same way.

You guys when you aren’t being all lovey and adorable are like partners.

Making joint decisions, just working well together overall

He likes to high five you and then kiss you

Like high five, grabs hand, pulls you into a kiss

Todd

His parents literally never keep an eye on what he does over the summer

So he’s always over at your house or you’re at his

His house is gianttttt and has a pool

Not that he cares that much

But it’s impressive to say the least

Jefferey is the only one of his family who actually knows you’re dating

Like I said his parents don’t care like at all

But Jef is actually super nice and supportive

Todd gets lonely very easily

So if you’re not together he tries to call you

If you don’t pick up he writes about you

He gets the best gifts

Not because of money or anything but because he’s so thoughtful

Everything thing he gives you has an entire train of thought behind it

Modern day AU almost every time you text him he screenshots it and sends it to Neil asking how to answer

1950’s universe he’s one of the few families with multiple television sets and lets you watch whatever you want.

He likes sleepovers

And his favorite way to cuddle is him sitting up on the bed with you laying on his stomach wrapped around him.

Touch starved.

Meeks

Gets sooooo annoyed when his glasses are dirty

He absolutely hates it

You buy him portable lense cleaner

He loves you period

Like everyone can tell this boy is in love

His love language is acts of service

So he’s always offering to help you with homework

He literally did your laundry once

He’s so down bad anything you do makes his jaw drop

On the floor

Stunned

You guys create your own secret language

He speaks it faster than you and usually say’s disgustingly sweet things

Great with kids

Great with parents

Plant dad. He loves those big vine things idk what they’re called but they wrap around the room

[thealtoduck]

”Nice cap”

Poolboy!Jason Todd x Male Reader

Content: Y2k teen movie-ish AU

Warnings: Smut with plot, reader is 18 and Jason is 20, top!Jason, unprotected sex, blow job, fingering, Jason cums a lot, big dick Jason, friends with benefits…

N/n = Nickname

Summary: Reader gets home from school and sees the hot poolboy Jason cleaning the pool and they hang out…

(A/n: I just wanted a y2k themed smut fic with Jason idk).

——

You waved goodbye to your friends as you stepped off the school bus. You hummed happily to a song you had been listening to a lot lately as you walked towards your house. You walked across the lawn to the front door and unlocked it entering your house.

You took off your shoes and threw your backpack aside, you walked to the kitchen to make yourself a snack. As you entered the kitchen you heard music coming from the backyard, which probably meant Jason was cleaning the pool.

Jason is your mother’s friend’s son who she had hired to be your families pool cleaner so he could earn some extra cash. You opened the glass sliding door and saw Jason standing shirtless by the pool while using the pool net to fish out some leaves.

The two of you had pretty much known each other all your life because of your moms friendship. You walked towards him and ”Hey Jason” you greeted him. ”Hey N/n” Jason greeted back using the nickname he had come up with for you when you were 5 and he was 7.

”I’m making a grilled cheese, you want one” you asked. ”Sure, thanks” Jason said and you turned and started walking back towards the house. Halfway Jason stopped you yelling ”By the way N/n! Nice cap, it makes you look really cute”. ”Thanks” you yelled and went back in to the house.

You made two grilled cheese sandwiches and poured two glasses of ice tea and brought it all outside and put it down on the outdoor table. You waved Jason over and you sat down and ate. You chatted about what the two of you had been up to.

”So wait, am i getting this right… Damian wanted to adopt the cow at the petting Zoo?” You laughed at the story about Jason’s younger brother. ”Yeah, it took dad promising they would visit the cow again the next day to get Damian to leave” Jason explained.

”Aww… Damian is so cute, he’s my favorite in your family” you said teasingly. ”Hey, i thought i was your favorite” Jason said fake offended. ”Nah, you’re like third, cause your mom is pretty cool… no wait you’re fourth cause Dick picked me up from middle school that one time when my mom was sick” you explained making Jason chuckle.

”You’re such a brat” Jason said making you laugh. ”Maybe i should throw you in the pool to teach you a lesson” Jason suggested playfully. Your eyes widened and you stood up and ran away. Jason was quick to follow you. He managed to catch around the waist and restricting your arms so you couldn’t escape.

He brought you too the edge of the pool and asked teasingly ”Any last words?”. You had accepted your fate so all you said was ”I regret nothing”. Jason then threw you in to the water of the pool. As you reasurfaced you felt your clothes sticking to your body.

You picked up your cap that had fallen off when you landed in the water and put it back on. Jason then canonballed into the water right next to you. When he resurfaced you said ”How is this revenge if you jumped in too?” You asked.

”It seemed fun” was all he answered and the two of then got out of the pool. ”You wanna come inside and borrow some clothes?” you asked heading inside to change. ”Yes please” Jason said.

You and Jason entered your room. You opened your closet and took out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and threw them to him. ”You wanna borrow boxers too?” You asked. ”Yes please, it’s cold” Jason said jokingly, so you threw him a pair of boxers too. Once you had gotten clothes for you to change in to as well you turned around…

Only to be met with Jason and his huge cock out in the open as he took of his underwear, your eyes widened and you turned around once again yelling ”Jason!”. ”Oh sorry” he said quickly pulling on the boxers you gave him. ”Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”.

You chuckled ”No it’s fine, it just caught me by suprise”. You said pulling off your own wet shirt. Jason then smirked saying ”You think my dick is FINE” making you blush and quickly say ”That’s not what i meant”. Jason then started flexing his muscles.

You ignored his antics but could feel yourself getting slightly turned on by him. You went in to the bathroom and changed. Your dick had gotten hard from the show Jason had given you but you put on your new clothes and hoped it wouldn’t be that visible.

You came back in to your room where Jason found your cd player and was putting on some nice RnB music. You laid down on your bed and checked your phone to answer some texts. Jason came and laid down next to you on his stomach, he still hadn’t put on the hoodie or the sweatpants.

He looked at you like a puppy who wanted attention so you put down your phone and ran you hand through his still wet hair. ”Sorry i got you wet and that you had to see my dick” he apologised making you give a small laugh. ”It’s okay, it was fun” you said matter of factly which made Jason smile.

Jason then crawled closer ”Really” he said in a flirty tone. ”Wanna have more fun?” he suggested. Trailing is fingers on the button of your jeans. After that lust completely flooded your brain making you say ”Yes please”.

He unbuttoned the button to you jeans and rubbed your crotch while coming up to your face. The two of you gazed in to each others eyes for a second until your lips crashed together. You pulled away from each other and Jason stood up an pulled down the boxers.

His already huge dick had doubled in size and stood proud and hard, you sank to your knees and put a hand on his cock stroking it slowly. ”Wanna try taking it all” Jason asked and you nodded. You guided his cock to your lips and put the tip in your mouth.

He slowly started pushing more of his cock into your mouth, he loved the warm wet feeling on his manhood. ”I like seeing you like this” Jason stated softly. He grabbed both sides of your head started pushing in and out of your mouth making himself moan.

When he felt he was close to cumming he pulled your head of his dick. ”Now i’m gonna make you feel good N/n” Jason said as you stood up, he pulled of your shirt and then gave you a big kiss. You dropped your pants and underwear leaving you both fully naked.

”Jason, i want you inside me” you said softly, Jason smirked and said ”Whatever you say N/n”.

You dicks were grinding against each other as you made out. Jason pushed you slowly down on your bed making you lay down, Jason kneeled between you legs making you raise your legs revealing your tight hole in need of filling.

Jason started pushing a finger inside you making you moan quietly, he continued adding more fingers to strech you out. Then he opened your nightstand to check if you had lube which you did. He started applying lube inside you and then on his hung manhood.

Then he started pushing his cock inside you, his tip pushing open your hole. You moaned as he started to slowly fill you up as Jason kissed your neck while whispering praises to you. ”Your taking it so well N/n” he said in between kisses.

When he was fully in he let you adjust to his length. Eventually he slowly started pushing in and out of you making you wrap your legs around his waist. ”You feel so good Jay” you said as he filled you ass with his hung horse cock.

”I love it when you call me Jay” Jason said thrusting a bit faster making you moan as you felt him deep inside you. You kissed his neck while grabbing on to his thick round ass cheeks with your hands massaging them making him groan in pleasure as he plowed you.

He then started kissing and sucking on your nipples much to your pleasure. You reached down to your cock and started stroking yourself. You felt you were close.

”Jay, i’m close” you said in ecstasy. ”Me too, how do you want me” he said. ”Jay, i want you to drown me in your cum” you said as innocently as possible. Which made something in Jason go feral as he started pounding in to you.

It was enough to push you over the edge making you groan loudly and cum all over Jason’s abs and your belly. Jason continued roughly plowing you until it was his time too.

He pulled out and started jerking off his dick, he stood on his knees as the tip of his cock exploded making his seed stain you all the way from your face to your belly button. It must’ve been at least enough cum to fill a glass. Both of you panted heavily from your session.

Jason laid down beside you and said through the panting ”Still only fourth on your little list”. You laughed and said ”Guess i could bump you up to second place”. ”That’s better” Jason said and realised something. ”I need to finish cleaning the pool before your parents get home” he stated.

”And i need to not be naked and covered in cum before they get home” you said jokingly, licking some of the cum in your face. Jason laughed and said ”You wanna do this again sometime”. ”Sure, next time i want you to be rougher with me” you said with a smile. ”Don’t mind if i am” Jason exclaimed excited for your future hook ups.

[tokyoteddywolf]

Anatomy of a Wyrmling!!!

A bit of explanation about the Wyrmlings, aka, the Baby Giratina of my Obsidian Mew AU.

So! To start with, the babies are not physical beings. Rather, they're energy beings, formed from Ruler's power, and gain experience and grow inside the Distortion Realm. They start real itty bitty, about a foot long, and grow slowly. They look and feel like smoke, and their wings and spikes are simply mimics of Ruler and their older siblings' shells.

What do they eat, you may ask?

Well, they eat energy!!! :D

That's right, these little guys love to eat energy! Gaia energy is tasty, but they love to eat corrupted energy! They're able to consume and convert it safely into their own bodies, which let's them grow their physical shells as they age. They're like cleaner fish, nibbling off the bad energy from older siblings that come back to the realm, or nibble from portals and pools as they can't leave the Distortion Realm.

They would dissipate if they did, their bodies unable to differentiate between their "selves" and the "world". Without an achor they'd return to being plain old energy. Older Giratina gain a physical shell which protects them from that, but it takes about 50 or so years for that to form naturally.

There are exceptions, but it's mainly a difference of experience gaining.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Have I ever explained the Pearlification AU? Where the earth is being taken over by gems, humans were dying out, and the gems take in the ones they consider worthy, and make them into a gem... And that Pearls are not servants, but are considered treasures by the gem society, gems who are pure and unique and are to be adored and protected, kept safe in the Reef, a safe place, almost a temple, for Pearls, and their loyal guards and caretakers...

Reader and some of the teens are humans, who the gems took in/force adopted, and are slowly brought about the Reef after they were taken from Earth. Yet the gems plan to turn them into gems, Pearls, to be exact, to take care of and teach and love on... Reader tries to run away after the others are taken, but ends up in the room where humans are converted to Pearls... They end up being taken to a special room, where they're asked questions, such as favorite colors, what shape they prefer, oval or circle, how they want to look, their preferred hair style, the clothes they like, what they want to be called, if they can drink some water they brought for them... Reader answers, albeit shakingly and scared out of their wits, until they're told they've finished. Reader is taken to a room with warm pools, and bathes off any dirt or salt. Once they're clean, they're taken to another room, a waiting room of sorts... Reader is given a glass of odd liquid and told to drink all of it. When they ask if they have to, they're told it is important they do so. Reader drinks it, and ends up drugged, and is taken to the conversion room...

They're tested a bit after being laid down, their eyes are checked, their nose, their ears, their heartbeat, their breathing... Then they're lightly strapped down, and given an injection that makes them sleepy. They slowly drift off, to the sound of water and quiet chatter...

When Reader wakes up, they feel tired, yet a bit... lighter. Cleaner. They look around, finding themself in a large room full of soft pillows and blankets, in a carved bed? that looks like a shell. They can see a few sleeping figures, but they're... In different colors of the rainbow. From indigo blue to powder pink to scarlet red to ivory white and olive green and cream yellow, and many more... Reader rubs their eyes, then freezes. Their hands... they aren't any human skin tone they've seen. They're... colorful... Reader scrambles, feeling their body, noting that there's a gem on them, amd feels panicked. But they eventually calm fown enough to decide decide need to watch and observe, they need to act like nothing is wrong, at least not right now...

A few of the gems (the adults and older teens) come in, and Reader pretends to be asleep. What they hear is a small discussion between the gems about how after the conversion, they should all be pearls, and should not remember being human. They might remember friends and a few small things, but they shouldn't be anything besides freshly made pearls who are being taken care of and loved by the gem society...

So Reader, when someone goes to wake them up, acts lightly dazed and a little confused, but watches how the other tee- pearls, react. And see that they are mostly calm, bubbly, or asking what their purpose is. They end up lined up and taken to a room, where they each stand on a shell and are told to state their name (the color pearl they are), their flaw, and their perfections... Reader just hopes they can hold up against all of this, and can hide that they remember. Maybe they can snap some of the others out of it...

(Ask any questions you want about this AU! If you have an idea for Reader's Pearl color or what their flaw or perfections could be, I'm open to discussing it! I don't know why, but I like pearls, and the idea of the platonic yans loving the Pearl kids, who are like newborn gemlings now, is kinda sweet and creepy fluff... What do y'all think?)

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

So, What'll It Be? (Marko x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: reader bartender!au, reader works at a biker bar, mentions of alcohol/drinking, flirting,

Word Count: 729

You sighed as you picked through the glasses, trying to find one that wasn't covered in spots.

It was a new job, new town. Sure, some bars were cleaner than others. And some weren't dives like this one. You thought to yourself as you finally stood up, deciding to just work whatever magic you could with a towel and some elbow grease. But, you were low on cash, and it was this or trying to find a job on the boardwalk mid-season.

Plus, the place wasn't that bad. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

It was the stereotypical dive. With sticky floors, a disgusting bathroom, and less than savory patrons. The only thing holding the place together was the pool table and the jukebox, and you were sure that if either went out of order that there'd be nothing short of a riot from tonight's crowd.

It was busy, and it's why you ignored the potential health concerns and poured drinks as fast as you could.

It was always the same anyways. With everyone in the bar having been drinking for at least half your life, they all seemed to settle for either a beer or straight liquor. You didn't bother to even look up as you asked,

"What'll it be?" You were flipping your notepad to a clear page as unfamiliar masculine voice said,

"Whatdya have?" And annoyance interrupted your autopilot. You glanced up, already sending the voice daggers before your eyes settled on his face.

Shit.

This wasn't one of your regulars pulling your leg, or a sarcastic older creep taking up your time.

This was a guy with big doe eyes, golden curls, and-

God, you were staring. You were quick to force yourself to speak, to make up for the silence you'd let stretch out. You blurted,

"Everything. I mean, not everything- Whatever you see behind the counter." You stumbled, and you watched the way his lips curled into an amused smile. You were definitely flustered, and you'd definitely just gawked at him. And he definitely noticed. He knocked on the bar, even leaned forward in his seat as if to get a better look. When his shoulders shifted forward, your gaze shifted to his jacket. It was all patchwork, with so much to look at, and yet it didn't stop your eyes from drifting back to his face. His eyes scanned side to side, before they flicked back to you. Green. You thought. His eyes were a dark green.

When his eyes settled back on you, his smile looked almost mischievous. He hid it for a moment behind his hand, biting his nail before he pointed at you.

"Does that include you?" And your brain short-circuited when you realized what he meant. You tried to think of something to say, a comeback that was just as witty. Instead, you let out an embarrassed laugh, but that was enough to please him.

You grabbed the bar, needing something to hold onto as nerves threatened to swipe out your knees. You even used it to pull yourself closer, which, in hindsight, didn't help the butterflies in your stomach.

"Maybe," You said, and it was the closest glimpse he'd get at your mental tug of war. Yes, he was gorgeous, but this was a dive, in a new town, where you knew no one, that was affectionately dubbed Murder Capital of the World. And, while his face looked angelic, even innocent, he was a patron at said dive in said capital. But, god, was he gorgeous. Finally, one side started to have things slide in its favor. "But, not when I'm on the clock." You told him, but, from the way he grinned, he didn't seem to realize it was a rejection. Even if it was a soft one at best.

"Four beers, then." He said. Or did he? You couldn't tell. Hell, you couldn't tell which way you meant it. It was all you thought about as you tore yourself away from the bar to grab four of whatever brand he'd mentioned afterwards, your brain cloudy with thoughts of what you should do, what you should say, as you uncapped them and, finally, handed them to him. You were fighting with yourself, watching this opportunity slip away. The hottest guy in Santa Carla hits on you and you blow him off. You were sure you'd made the mistake of a lifetime before he quipped, "I'll see you when you get off." And a mix of shock and relief flooded your mind as he turned his back. You were so giddy that you didn't even really think to tell him when exactly that was. Or that you hadn't even gotten his name.

***

You locked the door to the bar behind you, tugging on your jacket to fight the late-night chill. Only one street-lamp lit the abandoned parking-lot, and you were lucky the buses ran this late. But, when you turned and saw a familiar jacket, and a familiar guy, sitting on a bike, you remembered that wasn't how you were getting home tonight.

The rest of the night had been flirting comments here or there, you being kind enough to bring the beers to him and his friends, and the usual dull roar of a Santa Carla night. Compared to all of that, Marko, you found out his name was, seemed to shine out above it all.

You smiled a bit to yourself, your footsteps echoing in the empty night before the rumble of the engine drowned out the sound. Once you were within reach, he held out his hand for you to take. He pulled you closer by it, his hands cold from the night.

"So," He started, his voice slow. His eyes shined, even in the low-light. "What'll it be?"

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs AU: Teach You A Lesson

Masterlist

⚠️ Spoilers for Chapter 25 and 26

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Hello, readers!! Heather said some really mean things to Jackie in Chapter 25: Slaughterhouse. Even though she never followed through on those threats in canon, I still wanted to write this one-shot to explore what would happen. Also, thanks to @brutal-nemesis for inspiring me to make this, I’m always thrilled to write another vivisection 💗

content: lab whump, vivisection, drugging, gore, restraints, gag, skinning (as in: Jackie gets skinned); Be warned, it gets messy

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The lights were all he could see, pure white, blazing above him, as he came around in a daze. It took time for his vision to clear. Sensation began to buzz back into his body, prickling under his skin—metal underneath him, the stale underground air, ropes burning as he tried to move. Cloth in his mouth. Heather was patting his cheek. Checking if he was conscious.

“You’re awake. We can start.” She was still wearing those latex gloves. The scalpel was still in her hand. She turned away to retrieve something from another table beside him.

Sparks of panic ignited in his chest. He tugged on the ropes out of instinct, but they were too tight for him to even turn his wrists. The cold metal table stung his skin as he shifted, making him wince. He was back here, trapped again, unable to move. The smells of chemical cleaners spun in his head, dredging up faint memories, flashes of noise and pain.

The changing colours left afterimages in his sight. Even now, the light was unbearably sharp. Everything was shifting in staggered increments, outlines bleeding into each other. It was exhausting to keep his eyes open. She might have drugged him during the struggle, although he couldn’t recall any of it.

Heather held up a different tool for a moment. The blades separated, then slid back together. Scissors. Small. Surgical steel.

Jackie laughed, half from fear and half from delirium. With the cloth, though, it was just another muffled sound. He couldn’t recognize his own voice. 

“I thought that might be necessary.” She steadied the scalpel over his forearm. “If you talk and distract me like last time, then—well, I won’t be precise. You can’t apply too much pressure when you want a clean cut.”

As she spoke, she slit the skin on his arm in one long, straight line. He couldn’t see it well. Only the red pooling up from the corner of his eye. He didn’t need to see it, though, because he could feel the metal and the blood, cool and wet on his arm. Whatever she drugged him with didn't stop the heady fog of pain. Tremors ran up and down his body.

She made a few more cuts to complete the section. There was a shape to it, right angles, perpendicular. The incisions started at his shoulder and descended all the way to his wrist.

Then she began to peel the skin off with her hands. She was staring straight at him while it ripped, slowly, from his muscle. Strings of tissue snapped and tore away with a low, delicate sound.

“We just started, Jackie,” she said. “Are you already crying?”

He was, even though he hadn’t noticed it. His sobs were muffled, anyway. Tears soaked the cloth and made his mouth taste of salt.

The skin was barely hanging onto him, now, and her tugging was meeting too much resistance, so she severed the last strips of it with the scissors. The wound was weeping blood all over her white coat.

She leaned forwards as she murmured to him. Her eyes were right above his. They were wide and bright. “I don’t actually need you to help me with my work. You must know that. On some level.”

Heather dragged the scalpel at an angle on his stomach. She didn’t care about making clean cuts anymore. The blade tore away with thin slivers of muscle as well as skin. Yellow-white fat and dark sinews glinted in the light.

“I don’t need to ask you about your pain and your symptoms and how you feel before and after. All I need is this—your body. I don’t have to let you sleep when you like and talk when you like. I can keep you tied to this table forever. I thought you knew that. Don’t you?”

He nodded. His head felt heavy. 

“And you still pulled that little stunt.” The scalpel was already buried underneath his skin. He screamed into the cloth when she shoved the blade deeper inside with a sudden lurch. “I was patient for three fucking days, but you don’t seem to have the basic mental capacity to stop while you’re ahead. I’m starting to believe you’re just too stupid to be grateful. What did you think would happen? Did you even have a plan?”

Jackie tried not to focus on what she was saying. His face was flushed, and his sobbing was making it hard to breathe through the… and then, she slid the scalpel out. It was difficult to focus on anything at all. He was losing a lot of blood. Black spots were blooming in his vision.

“Jackie. Look at me.” She forced his head upright again. “Are you ready to apologise?”

He was. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t bring his head up, or nod. It lolled back to the side when she let go.

Heather started cutting on his face. The skin was tearing away from bone now, not just muscle. “It doesn’t matter. You never mean it when you say you’re sorry.” Blood ran into his eyes. He blinked several times on impulse. His back tensed—she pushed him flat to the table with her free hand, digging into the exposed surfaces of his muscles. “I have to teach you a lesson the only way you’ll learn.”

He shuddered at the sudden contact. A spike of pain curled under her hand. She was probably right. There was a kind of hope that came from ignorance. It was an instinct that had to be crushed. Cut out of him. He shouldn’t have done it. Maybe he thought she would feel bad for him, or lose interest in all his miracles, or something like that, and she'd leave him be for a while. But that was kind of dumb. He didn’t know why he did it. He just wanted this to stop…

She was holding his face in her hand. What remained of his face, at least, smeared all over with scarlet. It looked like a mask—he caught sight of the holes where eyes used to be, and the crevasse that used to be his mouth. It was just his skin, though. It wasn’t that bad. 

“You aren’t unconscious, are you? Look up. Open your eyes. Good.” She set the tools down on the other table. The discards of skin went into a plastic bag. “The damage is superficial, so it shouldn’t take long to heal. I’ll return tomorrow. We'll see how sorry you feel then.”

A whole day. A whole day to wait, immobile, still bleeding. His body was searing all over. Every little twitch sent another jolt of pain through his flesh. He wished he could have that drugged sleep now. The room was whirling all around him. All the colours were bright and glittering.

Heather took her gloves off, one after the other. She gave him one last glance. He had to look terrible. She had a certain expression on her face. 

And then she was walking away. The door closed, the lights went out, and he was left alone in the dark.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Of course, Jackie would behave after this :) I actually don’t think it would have a permanent effect on his behaviour, though. Jackie has a bad memory and he’s a people-pleaser by nature, so he would forgive and forget anything. It’s the same way he got over his isolation in the canon plot. That’s how he keeps himself sane, after all.

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye

[hermemescabin]

Cursed PJO AU ideas

Pyramid scheme AU: instead of being immortal beings, the Gods are MLM girl bosses.

Retail AU: our fave characters all work in the same mall, fighting against the tyranny of mall management (the gods).

Rival vacuum cleaner store AU: Romeo and Juliet but with vacuum cleaner stores. Whether or not this ends in death is up to you <3

Competitive dog show AU: the gang are all competing against each other in a dog show.

Pool cleaner AU: Poseidon owns a pool cleaning business that Percy works for.

Circus AU: they are clowns trying to escape an oppressive circus.

[backtothefanfiction]

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter 1 : The Call of a Night Bird

Summary: Peter Parker's wife left him 3 years ago. Suddenly she's back and she's brought some news that is about to change everything, unfortunately that news comes with its own set of complications and he's out for blood.

Warning: 18+ Only, mature themes, eventual smut, weapons, angst, lots of emotional tension

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello, welcome, I am so excited to be sharing this story. It has consumed me for the last week resulting in me so far having written a total of almost 20,000! words, including the Prologue which you can find here. As mentioned in the others note for the prologue and in subsequent posts lately, I have come to adore Mob!Au Peter Parker stories after finding the wonderful @liz-allyn's Sugar + Vice series and even more recently @p3mybeloved one shots based on the lyrics of Florence and the Machine's Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up). If you haven't read either and you enjoy this fic and want more like it I would highly recommend checking them out. Anyway this is the first part of a 2 chapter drop, but after that you can expect weekly chapter releases every Friday. Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy, this is The Angel In The Garden of Evil.

ONE

Peter Parker was nonchalant about journeys home, it was simply routine at this point in his life. Although he had other properties in the city and even around the world, this was his only true safe space. A large mansion on the outskirts of the city. 7 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms and an open living and kitchen space that covered the whole of the back half of the downstairs of the house. With a swimming pool, hot tub and basketball court all in the backyard and a view of the Hudson to die for, anyone would mistake it for paradise on earth.

Once upon a time, he’d get excited about coming home, the smell of dinner being cooked wafting around the house, music permeating the whole of the downstairs, windows lit, guiding his way up the large driveway as his driver pulled in through the gates. But that was then. That was before.

Sure coming home was still his safe place. The place he could mostly let his guard down when work wasn’t being brought home, but it was quieter now. It was darker now. He had to switch the lights on himself. Instead of sitting down at the dinner table, a meal prepared and laid out for him, he now fixed himself a drink from the bar cart, sat at that same dining room table and drank alone. Day in, day out, that same routine ever since she left. His Angel.

Everything had been harder since she left. Work was harder. Getting up and living was harder. Suddenly he had to factor in extra costs she had been taking care of; weekly shopping, the cleaner, the gardener. Heck he had even paid out for a storage facility to hold all her things. He had the whole house redecorated because everything reminded him of her. She was his everything, they were going to rule the whole city together. But now it’s just him. 

He reached forward for the small drinks tray in the car, pouring himself a finger of whiskey from the decanter. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and ruffled up his hair as he slumped back into his seat in the back of the car, his head leaning back against the headrest.

“Everything okay back there boss?” Miguel asked from the driver's seat.

“Hmm, yeah.” Peter sighed as he forced himself to make eye contact with his driver through the rear view mirror.

“It’s her again isn’t it.”

Peter said nothing.

“You know boss, I knew she’d be nothing but trouble when-“ Miguel began to berate as he pulled up to the main gate, waiting for it to slide open with their arrival, but Peter’s demeanour suddenly changed, a frown pulling at his brow as he suddenly looked past the reflection of his driver and out the front window of the car. There were lights on in the house.

Peter’s hand slowly began to run along the carpeted roof of the car, his fingers pushing on a particular spot that revealed a compartment that concealed an emergency gun. His fingers tentatively closed around the handle as he brought it down, his senses continuing to assess the situation as Miguel drove slowly up to the house, careful to make as little noise on the gravel pathway as possible.

As they grew closer, Peter’s tension only grew as they realised the front door had been left open. The car had barely stopped when both men tentatively got out of the car, their doors left open in front of them as they each raised their pieces, scouting for danger. Peter motioned for Miguel to watch his back as he slowly edged his way around the car, the placements of his feet careful and quiet. As he got closer to the door he could hear music echoing down the hallway. 

His feet stepped gingerly through the foyer as he followed the sound. 

“Well, then suddenly there was no one Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah In a flood of tears That no one really ever heard fall at all”

All the way down the hall nothing seemed a miss. Everything was still tidy. No one had broken in to ransack the place and he was definitely sure if they had they wouldn’t be blasting Stevie Nicks in the kitchen whilst they did it. He held a hand up towards Miguel who had slowly been following behind him. He could hear the sound of oil sizzling in a pan and then-

“Well I went searching for an answer, up the stairs and down the hall, and not to find an answer, just to hear the call of a night bird…”

He’d know that voice anywhere. Her voice. Angel. 

It had been so long, almost like a charm that disarmed him, he began to lower his weapon, his stance relaxing. He quietly motioned his hand for Miguel to leave and they both shared a silent nod of understanding. Peter took in a deep breath as he confidently strolled through the doorway into the kitchen. 

She had her back to him as she danced across the tiled floor, lost in the music as she cooked. It was just like before- but it wasn’t. She had left. He had erased her entire existence from his life. 

He put the safety back on his gun and dropped it forcefully on top of the large kitchen island. He expected the sudden noise, the announcement of his presence, to at least shake her, startle her in some way, but she didn’t so much as flinch.

“Honey, I’m home.” He further announced himself.

She finally turned to face him. A part of him couldn’t help but melt when she turned, wooden spoon held aloft, mid-air,  as she turned and smiled at him. 

“I’m just adding a few more bits and it’ll be ready.” She beamed, her voice calling to him over the music and the sizzle of the vegetables in the pan like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t been gone for three years.

He rolled his eyes as she turned her back to him again, continuing to sing the last chorus of the song as she cooked. He raised his hands, confused, exasperated, unsure of what to do with himself. He ultimately found his feet already carrying himself to the bar cart, his usual routine kicking in. Was it his usual routine though or the sudden need for a strong drink to help get him through this inevitable conversation.

“I see you’ve redecorated.” she chirped.

He didn’t respond, leaving a long pause as he poured his drink.

“Darling, how did you get in?” He instead said, changing the subject as he took his usual seat at the table.

“The front door.” She innocently responds. “By the way,” she adds, turning to face him with both frying pan and wooden spoon in hand, as she continues to stir, “my birthday Peter really? You couldn’t come up with a more original security code?”

“In my defence Princess, I wasn’t expecting you to come home.” he said, his lips pulling tight.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows in defeat and giving a small nod as she turned back to the stove.

He watched her from his spot at the head of the table as he sipped on his drink, his fingers drumming on the seat of his chair between his legs as he spread out, trying to look confident in his own home. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her form as she turned off the knobs to the hob and the oven.

He felt a small sense of pride when she went to the cupboard to find the plates, only to realise he’d also replaced and moved those too.

“You moved the plates.” She sighs, her fingers drumming on the wooden cabinet as she took in a deep breath. When he didn’t immediately respond she turned her head to stick him with her piercing gaze. 

“They’re this side on the left.” He finally said, pointing towards where the cabinet would be on the other side of the island to him.

“Thank you.” She curtly replied as she moved across the kitchen to retrieve them.

She serves up the dinner, switching off the extractor fan, suddenly plunging them both into silence as she carries the two plates of food over to the table. 

Their eye contact is tense as she places the plate of food in front of him, so much needing to be said. Things that should have been said before. Things they’d both wanted to say since.

They continued to dance around each other in silence, cutlery scraping against plates as they ate. Peter didn’t want to admit it, but he’d really missed her cooking. He’d missed her altogether- but he knew he couldn’t get too attached. He didn’t even know why she was here in the first place, let alone how long it was for.

He let his eyes gaze along the long table towards where she sat up the other end and only then was it that he noticed the large envelope on the table. He stared at it, frozen, his hands resting his cutlery either side of his plate, his food now forgotten.

“Princess, whatever you do, don’t tell me those are divor-“

“Peter, my father's dead.” She blurted out. Her hands were now in her lap as she looked absentmindedly at a spot on the table.

“What?” Peter said tentatively in shock as he waited for her to look at him.

She looked around the room for a moment before she said it again, still not able to lock eyes with him. “My fathers dead.” He watched as she suddenly steeled herself. She pushed her chair back from the table, pushing herself to a stand with the arms of the chair. Her heels clacked across the floor as her fingers ran along the wood until they found the envelope that lay in the middle of the table between them. Peter leaned back in his seat to look up at her as she moved closer, her hip leaning against the table top as she handed the envelope to him.

Peter tentatively opened the envelope, his fingers reaching for the paper inside. 

“It’s his will.” She said as his fingers pulled the paper from its sheath and began to scan the text on the paper. She watched as he began to flip through the pages until he was on the last one as he froze. “He left you everything.” She said out loud, confirming what he was reading.

He looked up at her in shock. “But, I don’t understand.” He said as he began to reread the final page to be sure. “He hated me.” He said as he looked up at her again. “That’s why-” Peter couldn’t say it. That’s why she had left. 

Her Father had made her leave. He was his rival, she had run off and married the enemy and he had made her leave. Forced her onto a plane and took her who knows where. Well Peter knew where. Northern Italy. He had had Eddie go looking for her the moment he’d gotten home and found her gone. Their room ransacked, suitcases missing.

“Why would he leave me everything?”

“Because he couldn’t outright leave it to me.” She said.

She wasn’t bitter. She was calm, confident, aware that now she was back by her husband's side. The only place she’d really wanted to be. Her fair, just husband, who, although called her Princess, had always treated her like his Queen.

“Baby, how did he die?” Peter asked as he rose from his seat to stand in front of her. His head hung low, his forehead almost touching hers. It was the closest he could allow himself to be to her right now.

Her eyes gazed up into his and he watched as her expression changed. A fear grew in her eyes in a way he had never seen before. Even when he had first met her on the edge of 17, when his whole empire wasn’t even a dream. When she was still afraid of her Father and his job, even then he hadn’t seen this kind of fear in her eyes.

“He couldn’t let him have it.” Her voice was small, timid as tears began to well in her eyes.

“Who? He couldn’t let who have it?”

He was patient as he waited for her to find her voice, to bypass all of the painful memories that seemed to be flooding her. 

“They call him the Vulture.”

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

New chapters will drop every Friday, but it's okay, you don't have to wait for chapter 2, this is a double drop and it's already waiting for you right here!

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[farity]

Found

Pairing:  Aemond Targaryen x OFC Stark - Modern AU

Warnings:  Family bullshit, future smutty smut, parental death

Summary: Modern AU set in Silicon Valley.  Aemond is a high-tech security expert, Aegon is an asshole, and Helaena is adorable.

“I’m not his keeper, mother.”

Alicent Hightower-Targaryen, widow of the recently deceased richest man in the US, sighed at her younger son’s dismissive tone.  “Aemond, he’s supposed to be at this meeting in 45 minutes!”

Aemond stood, aware that his mother would not leave him in peace to finish reading his book.  “Check his search history for escort services, that will probably tell you where he is.”  He kissed his mother’s cheek and walked back into the house, book in hand.  The center patio was a large space shared by all the residences, and it was the best spot for early morning reading.  Aegon was usually still sleeping off whatever he’d done the night before, and if Helaena was around before her entomology classes, she was quiet enough to let him read in peace.

He had an appointment to prep for later in the afternoon, so he drove down from the family compound in Hillsborough to his office in Redwood Shores.  Traffic was a bitch as usual in the Bay Area but he only went to the main office a couple of times a week, managing most of his business from home.  

* * * * * 

“Are you free for a late lunch?”

Aemond heard the soft vibration on his phone and glanced over.  He smiled when he saw the text from his sister and realized he’d been working for four hours straight.  “Always, love, just tell me where.”  He sent off the reply and stretched, considering the blueprints he’d been studying.  

There were still too many blind spots, he thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  This is what happened when people prized “character” over “security.”  The hundred-year-old building was gorgeous, no doubt, but if the new owner would only agree to some walls being knocked down he could do a much better, cleaner, more streamlined job of turning it into a fortress.  

He grabbed his phone and decided to put Miss Anna Stark, CEO, on his mental back burner for the time being.  

The drive to Helaena’s favorite vegan restaurant was short, and she was already waiting by the time he arrived.  They had been eating here for a few years, and it was one of the few places where Aemond felt like he wasn’t being stared at like he was most everywhere else.  He supposed the eye patch would draw attention just about anywhere, and his penchant for dressing all in black along with his almost white hair made him an oddity, but he was able to shrug it off most of the time. 

“Brother!”

Helaena smiled up at him, and he engulfed her in a big hug while shifting her to the opposite side of the table so he could have an unimpeded view of the front door.  

“Aemond,” she laughed, “we know this place.  No one is going to swarm in,” she protested, but let him sit with his back to the wall, as always.

Aemond didn’t bring up the recent assassination of Edward Stark, who had been gunned down at a restaurant in San Francisco while having dinner with the mayor right after the holidays.  Two men had walked in, gone up to Stark’s table, and shot him point blank.  He had been dead before he hit the floor.  The mayor’s security had dragged him out the back, leaving Stark in a pool of his own blood.

“How is work?” he asked, noticing his sister’s ladybug earrings.  “Everyone behaving?”

“Mother keeps sending me employment offers from Stanford,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.  “I like it where I am.”

Aemond nodded.  “Then that is what matters, love.”  

He listened to his sister talk about the kids at the community college, She had a passion for sharing her knowledge and had blossomed into a confident young teacher.  Their mother had ranted about Helaena teaching “drop outs and criminals” instead of working at a more suitable, prestigious school, but his sister had stuck to her guns and told their mother that, by the way, she had also gotten an offer from a University in Tokyo.  The thought of losing her only daughter to a school on the other side of the world shocked Alicent into accepting her career choices.  For now.

“So, brother,” Helaena smiled, “how is your ballet dancer?”

He had hoped she wouldn’t bring up his girlfriend.  Well, his now ex-girlfriend.  “It’s over,” he said simply.

“She was like all the rest, quick to fall and quick to go,” his sister said absently.  “The time for grace is near, and it will shake the walls.”  

She wasn’t looking at him and he didn’t ask what it meant, for he doubted she knew herself.  Their food arrived and they ate in companionable silence, Aemond cataloguing every person who entered or left the restaurant.  One young woman kept her eye on him, dropping her napkin so she could pick it up and give him a good view of her cleavage.  By the time she looked back up to catch his eye, Aemond had already dismissed her.

* * * * * 

Driving back to his office, Aemond engaged the in-dash system to run his usual daily afternoon searches.  A picture of a worse-for-wear Aegon stumbling out of a new club in the city, a girl on each arm, something about the upcoming charity gala his mother was hosting, and what do you know, Lucerys Velaryon was getting married.

A muscle in his cheek twitched at the name.  Instantly he was back in the Velaryon house, clutching the eye Lucerys had just slashed.  He could feel the warm blood running down his face and between his fingers, hear the girls screaming as they ran back upstairs to get a grown up.  

He saw his younger self in the emergency room, felt the sting of a needle, remembered the pain fading as he dozed off.  When he had woken up, his mother had been sitting by his hospital bed, holding his hand, gently telling him he had lost his eye.  

He remembered the fittings for a prosthetic eye, the headaches it gave him until he threw it out the window and declared he was not going to use it.  His father had vowed he would have a better one, and in the end, he had delivered on his promise.  There was a prosthetic eye matching his good one sitting in a case on his desk.  It had night vision, AI, and mapping software, and he had worn it exactly once.  The resulting migraine had lasted for over a week and Aemond had settled on wearing eye patches.

He parked in the private area beneath the building and took the elevator directly to his office.  Scrolling through his phone, he made sure to let his admin, Maris, know he was there.

The files for your 4 o’clock have been sent to the main screen in conference room B, came the message.  

Aemond pulled up the file on Anna Stark, his 4pm appointment.  The youngest daughter of the murdered Edward Stark stared at him from the screen, her company photo showing a young woman, two years younger than him, with dark brown hair and grey eyes.  She hadn’t smiled for the camera and wore little makeup.  He had about twenty minutes before she arrived, and he went over the file, glossing over the business details, which he already knew by heart, in order to review her personal information.

Single, never married, no engagements, no children.  She didn’t appear in the society pages, unlike her mother and older siblings.  The latest picture was from her father’s funeral, where she wore head to toe black.  The long-sleeve, knee length dress showed a slim figure, almost delicate, her face mostly covered by enormous sunglasses.  He thought of his own father’s funeral, the main difference being that while her father had been murdered, his had died after a long illness.

Miss Stark has arrived, sir.  I will take her to the conference room.

Thank you, Maris, he sent back.  She was ten minutes early, which showed manners, and he grabbed his jacket before shutting his screen down and heading to the conference room.

* * * * * 

Good thing she didn’t judge the proverbial books by their covers, Anna thought, because she would never have imagined Aemond Targaryen as being the top security expert in California.  Maybe the US.  The first time she had seen a picture of him she’d thought he looked like a Viking pirate.  Tall, with short white blond hair, and the ever present eye patch he wore, the man radiated menace.  

After her father’s assassination, Anna’s mother had reached out to Alicent, whom she knew from various charity boards.  The more Anna looked into Aemond’s work, the more impressed she was.  It would have been easy for him to fall back on his family’s wealth and give up on making his own way after he lost his eye.  She’d read he had wanted to be a fighter pilot as a little boy, but obviously that was not possible any more.  He’d gone into tech and security instead and even though his list of clients was private, word was it every venture capitalist, politician, and billionaire in the state wanted him to handle their security.

She had been surprised by the interior of the office.  While the outside of the building was pure minimalism, the inside was warm and welcoming with plush seating and stacks of books everywhere.  She was currently sipping some of the best coffee she had ever had in her life while she went over her notes.

There was a knock on the door before it opened and he walked in.  “Miss Stark, welcome, I hope you’ve been made comfortable.”

Anna thought that no camera could possibly capture this man.  His hair was a silver halo around one of the most interesting faces she had ever seen.  His eye was the color of a rare amethyst, and his mouth quirked up in a small smile.  He was very tall, but whereas the picture showed a slim build, the man before her looked like a warrior, broad shoulders and big hands beneath his black clothes.

“I have, Mr. Targaryen.  Call me Anna, please.”

“Aemond,” he replied, shaking her hand before heading to the coffee station to grab a cup.

And a stellar ass, too.

She went back to her notes, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “I received the draft you sent, and I think we can meet somewhere in the middle regarding the installation at the residence.”

“Glad to hear it,” he replied.  “We can accommodate the historical details of the house while providing all the services you require but we will have to open up a couple of the walls in order to have all the coverage you need.”  He watched her hands as she wrote.  Short, bare nails, no rings.  

“Winterfell has been in my family for generations,” Anna replied.  “I understand you keep architects and artists on staff as well?”  

The next ninety minutes were spent negotiating the structural changes to the house.  While she hated the idea of making any permanent changes, Aemond appreciated that she was open to suggestions and gave him time to detail the advantages of every decision on the proposal.  She was writing down bits and pieces, reaching out to drink her coffee when he went over information on the screen.  “Refill?” he offered.

“I may not sleep tonight, but yes, please,” she laughed.

He immediately envisioned her in his bed, not sleeping at all, her dark hair spread out over his sheets as he rocked his hips against hers.  He refilled her coffee cup, determined to not let any distractions get in the way of his work.

* * * * * 

What the hell?”

Anna smiled politely at the coffee Aemond was adding to her cup, sipped at it when he refilled his own cup.  It really was liquid gold but at the moment it might as well have been liquid dirt.

She knew that look.  Had received that look a few times before.  It was the I want to fuck you until you forget your own name look and for the tiniest, briefest of seconds, she had seen it clearly spelled out in Aemond Targaryen’s amethyst eye.  It was gone just as quickly, but Anna wasn’t an idiot and she’d definitely seen it.

She’d seen a photo of him at one of his mother’s galas, a smiling girl clutching his arm while he looked away from her, a bored expression on his face.  

They were almost at the end of the appointment and she wished she was one of those flirty girls who could very easily say garbage like “why don’t we continue this conversation at my place?” while tracing a line up and down his arm.

But she wasn’t.  The flirt gene had gone to her older sister, and considering that messy dating history, that was just fine with her.  The last thing she needed was to complicate this project by sleeping - or not sleeping - with the man she’d hired.

Anna looked at her wrist, “I think we’re good here, Aemond.  You will send me the revisions?”  She began to gather her things, tucked her hair behind her ear.

He very politely walked her to the main door of the building, shook her hand, and she very pointedly didn’t turn around once before she got to her car. She blasted on the A/C as she drove off because her face felt like it was burning up.

* * * * * 

Aemond ignored his ex’s text as he left the office.  He’d ended the brief relationship for no particular reason other than he simply wasn’t intrigued by her.  He didn’t want to know more about her, he didn’t want to spend another night having boring sex with her, and he didn’t want to go to yet another function with her clinging to him like a fucking albatross.

He pushed every thought of Anna Stark out of his head as he drove home.  Not Ann, not Annie.  Anna didn’t swing her hips when she walked, didn’t flip her hair over her shoulder, wore low heeled shoes and tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous.

The inevitable question of what was she like in bed flashed like a Vegas sign in his head.  He hadn’t uncovered much of a dating history on her.  A high school sweetheart that hadn’t made it past graduation.  A French guy during her exchange year at the Sorbonne, and nothing serious in the last year.  

A voice message came in on the dashboard.  “Hey, bro-mond, you free?  There’s a gaggle of Swedish babes at the new bar by the stadium.”

“Aegon,” he replied, annoyed, “it’s barely 6pm.”  His brother already sounded like he had been drinking for hours, which he probably had.

He heard Aegon laugh, “gotta start early to get through them all, ja?  Hey, what’s Swedish for ‘pussy’?”

* * * * * 

“Margot!”

Anna hugged the girl in the floral dress, “it’s been so long!”

Margot, beautiful as ever, beamed at her long time friend.  “I’m glad you made it, Annie!  I only have twenty minutes before the game starts, but come here, I want to catch up! What the hell are you wearing, darling?”

It was busy at the bar.  All the tech bros and baseball fans were busy networking before the Giants game, most of them swarming around a group of tall blondes.  She heard a boisterous laugh and turned to see Aegon Targaryen, one blonde on each arm, making an “another round” signal to the bartender.

“Ugh,” Margot wrinkled her nose.  “He tried to grab my ass when I first got here.  Then I accidentally jammed my heel into his foot, and -- whoa.”

Anna caught Margot’s wide eyes and open mouth and turned to look.  

Aemond.

“Damn.  Good thing I’m taken because I’d be climbing that like a tree.”

He was headed straight for his brother when he saw Anna and stopped, heading over to her instead.

“He’s coming over, he’s coming over, he’s coming over, holy shit, he’s staring at you,”  Margot was whispering in Anna’s ear.

“Yeah, I know him,” Anna said casually, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “He’s doing the security for Winterfell.”  

“Jesus, Annie!  You’ve met that prime slab of quality beef and haven’t told me about it?  What the fuck?”

Anna shushed her friend just as Aemond reached the two women.  “Miss Stark.”

“Anna.  Hello Aemond.  This is my friend Margot.”

Margot extended a perfectly manicured hand for him to shake, and then glanced at her watch.  “Lovely to meet you, um, sorry, we have a box at the stadium, I better get Rob.  Talk to you soon,” she kissed Anna’s cheek and disappeared into the crowd before Anna could reply.

“Sorry,” Anna said, “she’s rather intense.”

Aemond closed the distance between them and leaned down to whisper in her ear.  “I have to get my brother out of here, but I’ll be back.  Will you wait for me?”

She caught Margot’s thumbs up sign as she left the bar with Rob, and looked up at Aemond.  He was so close, and smelled so good, she thought.  If she turned a little bit more to the left, their lips would touch.  “Of course,” she managed.

* * * * * 

For once, thank you, Aegon, Aemond thought to himself as he crossed the crowded bar towards his brother.  One of the blondes apparently objected to having a shot spilled all over her boobs for Aegon to lick off, and was stalking away.

“Come on, time to go,” he grabbed one of Aegon’s arms.

“Heyyyyyy, Aemond!  Ladies, the Targaryen boys are in the house!  What--”

Another man had joined Aemond, grabbing Aegon’s other arm and the older Targaryen son was unceremoniously dragged out of the bar before he could offend anyone else.  Aemond pushed his brother into a waiting car, and the other man got into the driver’s side.  

Aegon tried to open the door but was unsuccessful, and began hitting the window and yelling curses at his younger brother.

“Child lock?”

Aemond turned, Anna had followed them outside and was waving at Aegon as he made every obscene gesture he knew before the car took off.

She was smiling up at him as the car disappeared.  

“I apologize for that,” Aemond smiled back.  “But I’m glad I ran into you.”

He watched her tuck her hair behind her ear.  “Margot just got back, I haven’t seen her in forever.”  God, I’m fucking rambling, she thought.

“Have dinner with me,” he said, shifting back and forth on his feet.  “You don’t have to, it won’t interfere with the work, but I’ll kick myself if I don’t ask.”  

She remembered Margot’s thumbs up and decided on her answer.  “Id love to.”

* * * * * 

Dinner was one of the most surprising meals she could remember.  Much to Aemond’s credit, he didn’t take her to some fancy place with $800 bottles of wine and snobby servers.  The Italian restaurant was spotless, welcoming, the food was amazing, and it was filled with people who were obviously regulars.  They shared a bottle of wine and he paid before she could rush to get her wallet out.  

Outside, the evening was calm and cool, and Anna found herself wondering if he would try to kiss her.  He had been a perfect gentleman, opening doors, holding out chairs, and had made no move to touch her.  

Maybe he had decided she wasn’t his type, after all. He’d probably drop her off at home and only contact her regarding the security system from then on.  He was probably used to flashier girls, more like the ones who’d surrounded his brother at the bar.  

“Everything ok?” he asked suddenly as they reached his car.

Anna smiled, “yes, of course.  Thank you for a lovely dinner, Aemond, it was truly delicious.”

He studied her for a moment, amethyst eye flashing.  “Would you like me to take you home?”

Yup, there it is.

“Or would you rather come home with me?”

She stared up at him, her cheeks warming from the intensity of his gaze.  Much to her own surprise, she closed the distance between them and reached up to pull his face down to hers.  

Aemond brushed his lips against hers, once, twice, and then his hands were on her hips, and he was trapping her against the car.  He was hard against her stomach and when she moaned, he fisted one hand in her hair and began nipping at her jaw.  He pushed away from her, breathing heavily, and then opened the door.  Anna said nothing, simply got in and waited for him.

* * * * * 

They drove in silence, Aemond’s hand holding hers the whole time.  She stole glances at him, his profile in shadow against the car window.  She felt him rub the back of her hand with his thumb, small soothing circles that were actually igniting more sparks on her skin.  

He pulled into the driveway, walked over to open her door, and took her hand as he unlocked his front door.  Closing the door behind them, Anna turned to face him.  “I don’t . . . uh, I don’t do this often . . . “

He merely gathered her in his arms and raised her face up to his.  Again, he brushed his lips against hers before wrapping one arm around her back and lifting her off the ground.  She wrapped her arms around him, peppering his neck with kisses, felt him shiver against her.  

In his bedroom, he laid her down in the middle of his bed, one knee between her thighs.  “I’m not done with your neck,” she protested, and smiled, reaching up for him.  

“Do your worst,” he smiled back, stretching out beside her.  He let her kiss his jaw, his neck, let her start unbuttoning his shirt.  The last thing he wanted to do was startle her into stopping so he kept his hands at his sides, the need to touch her growing with every passing second.  Once his shirt was undone, he watched her sit up on her knees next to him, and watched the hunger in her eyes as she stroked a line from his neck to his stomach.  His hands clenched as she began undoing his belt, watching him as she unlooped the length of leather.  He was growing harder with each moment, and when she pulled down the zipper, he groaned, and flipped her onto her back.

“My turn,” he murmured against her ear, “or things are going to end before they begin.”

Anna squirmed beneath him as he nipped at her jaw, her breathing coming in short little puffs.  He pulled her top over her head, and began to kiss at the edges of her bra.  The skin of her breasts was impossibly silky and soft, straining against the lace edges.  She arched her back and he took the opportunity to undo the clasp of her bra.  She immediately crossed her arms over her breasts, her cheeks reddening.  

“Anna,” he said, “you’re beautiful.”  He began pulling off her trousers, the lacy underwear beneath.  “I want all of you.  Let me have all of you.”

She sighed and reached up for him.  

* * * * * 

Aemond’s mouth was watering at the sight of Anna, naked, in his bed.  He pushed off the rest of his clothes and laid down next to her.  She was everything smooth and soft and fragrant, and so alive in his arms.  Her hands roamed everywhere they could reach, eager to explore.  

When he finally could wait no longer, he reached for the top drawer in his nightstand, grabbed a condom, slipped it on while she explored his mouth with her tongue.  He reached between them, stroking the slick, delicate flesh between her legs, and she stilled, biting her lower lip.  He continued to touch her ever so gently until her hips were rocking against his fingers.  “Please,” she whispered, and he guided himself until he was barely inside her.  

“Please, please” her hips rocked, nails digging into his shoulders.  He began to thrust, began to sink into her, as she kept chanting, begging.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, taking the length of him until he was fully seated inside her.  “You feel so good,” he said against her mouth.  “So fucking good.”  She met every snap and roll of his hips, matched every thrust, and her moans grew louder as he began to drive faster into her.

“Come for me,” he murmured, “come for me, Anna.”

She buried her face in his neck as the orgasm began to crash into her, then threw her head back, screaming, hips rocking, rocking, rocking.

The feel of her convulsing around him, the way her legs tightened and the scream was ripped from her throat finally sent him over the edge and he let himself fall after her.

* * * * * 

He eventually had to let her go.  Despite every primal instinct calling to him to keep Anna with him, he dropped her off at her place before dealing with the dozen or so furious texts from Aegon, who was getting more and more creative with his insults.  Too bad most of them were misspelled, Aemond thought to himself.

[rhondafromhr]

Unhinged Heathers AU where Veronica and the Heathers are the ones who go on a murder spree (based more so on the musical version than the movie). Warning for canon-typical mentions of murder and suicide below the cut.

Ram is their first victim—at his party, he, Veronica and the Heathers are in a dark corner of the backyard by the pool while everyone else is inside. He’s being creepy towards Heather Duke, Veronica pushes him in the pool and he lands weird, hitting the corner with enough force that it snaps his neck. McNamara is terrified, Duke is pissed because Veronica butted in when she didn’t need help and now they might go to jail and Chandler is telling her she better get them out of this. Thinking quickly, Veronica screams as loud as she can, yelling that Ram accidentally fell into the pool and he’s not moving and somebody has to call 911. It’s ruled an accident and they get away with it. Heathers D and C are both intrigued by the rush of power it gives them, Duke especially. McNamara goes along with it because it was sort of an accident and he was being a jerk and should she and her friends really have to serve hard time over a silly little accident?

Kurt is up next. He starts using Ram’s death as an excuse to be even more of a shithead and be even creepier and sleazier towards girls, plus he was the first to emerge from the house and Veronica worries that he might have been close enough to the sliding glass door to see something. They need to shut him up forever and it’s not like he’s contributing anything positive to Westerburg, anyway, so they lure him to the cemetery and do a plan similar to the one Veronica and JD do in the movie, leaving a note explaining that he just couldn’t live in a this “cruel, ununderstanring world” without his best buddy, whom he also loved. There are no “ich lüg” bullets though—it’s a real ass gun and they all know exactly what they’re getting into. Unfortunately, they’re not very skilled with it and a stray bullet gets Heather Mac, so they have to hastily set up the scene to make it look like she killed herself, too. The guilt starts to eat away at Veronica, because Heather Mac was the most innocent in all this and she ended up dying for it. (“She was just seventeen, she still had room to grow. Who could she turn out to be? Well now we’ll never know”.) After this, she appears to Veronica as a ghost/figment of her imagination like Heather Chandler was in the musical.

Then Veronica catches Martha digging around in her locker and Martha confesses that she thinks Veronica’s been acting weird ever since Ram’s death and she heard she was the last one to talk to him (he died and things got shut down before Martha could come to the party). And, well, to quote the musical : “Martha, I’m so sorry.” Veronica lures her in with the promise of watching the princess bride and popping some Jiffy pop—just the two of them, just like old times. She really does put the movie on, but only so Martha can see her favorite movie one last time. See the happy ending, even though she’ll never get one. Veronica goes to pour them both “sodas”, spiking Martha’s with drain cleaner and leaving a note just like they did for Kurt. The surviving Heathers help her set up the scene and then they book it.

After this, it really sinks in what a monster Veronica’s created and become and she tries to break it off with the Heathers. Heather Chandler makes it clear that she can’t go back to being a nobody—if she leaves, come Monday, she’s an ex-somebody. Duke won’t let her leave without a fight either. She needs the power this gives her and she won’t have Veronica messing it up by walking away. She maliciously complies—she won’t walk away; she’ll face what she’s done, in front of everybody. This leads to the “dead girl walking reprise” sequence, an epic confrontation between Veronica and the Heathers at the pep rally.

If you’re wondering where JD is in this AU, he’s just chilling in the background, fully aware of what Veronica and the Heathers are up to. Picture him nodding in approval and saying, “well played.” Or if you want him to have a bigger role he could channel his God complex into deciding it’s up to him to defeat them and end their reign of terror and becoming sort of an antagonist to them.

That’s all I have so far, haven’t fully fleshed it out yet and this is my first unhinged AU outside of my main fandom so I hope y’all like it. Also let me know what you think of the characterization here bc I kind of struggled with it.

[auideas]

Pool love

Well this is certainly the season for it -- pool love, coming right up!

(P.S. We're going to start including our favorite prompt within lists at the bottom, so make sure you read until the end!)

Chronically shy Characters A and B had been playing games with all the neighborhood kids since they were toddlers, but weirdly enough, they'd never actually spoken directly. The only time they'd uttered a word to one another was during games of Marco Polo in which they recognized the other's voice, loved it and its flirtatious tone, but never acted on it -- after all, they had never seen one another and matched the voice in the crowd, so how could they know they felt the same way about one another? Later in life, they wind up on a blind date and start speaking to one another, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia...had they met before?

"We had one chance to win the gold medal for either one of our countries; we were supposed to be Olympic champions, but you threw it all away just because of our petty rivalry!? You stupid, selfish --" Character A is cut off as Character B slams them against the locker, pressing their forearm at Character A's throat, then crowding their space until they could see the droplets of chlorine mix with the tears coating Character A's lashes. Character B drank in the sight. "Choose your next words wisely, bargain bin protagonist," they shakily breathed out. "I'm not above putting you in your place." AU

"I took a job as a lifeguard for the local pool this summer and there's this incredibly cute person who always brings the kids they're babysitting. I guess they don't like swimming very much, but they always bring a new book every single time; I don't know if they're a speed reader or if they're just showing off, but trying to keep up with their current picks is impossible. I've been trying to visibly read the same book as them for WEEKS now while on my breaks, but they never even look in my direction..." AU

Pool cleaners Character A and B had been in the business for a while so they'd seen some shady things, but nothing they'd ever cleaned had come close to their newest client. The black water seemed endless, the smell was putrid, and they could see some sort of steam coming from the surface even though the ambient and water temperature were the same. Their eyes grew wider and wider as they emptied the water and found some...strange objects...at the bottom.

"I've never been able to open my eyes under water -- it just seems scary, unsanitary, and unnecessary. What could I possibly want to see in that urine-filled cesspool? My friend, Character B, found this hilarious and made it their mission to help me crush my phobia over summer break. Soon they realized that I didn't want to because I was worried about other people being in the pool when I was opening my eyes, so they break into the pool after hours, dragging me along to practice. After an hour of psyching myself up, we both dipped our heads under. It took a few seconds, but when I opened my eyes, I found Character B pressing their lips against mine. The water around me suddenly felt extra cold as my face flushed deep red. Oh no...it must be pink eye, I have a fever oh no it's too soon how could I let this happen oh geez I'm so screwed--" AU

After one thing leads to another, some swimsuit mishaps in the locker room force Character A to borrow the spare swimsuit of Character B and needless to say...they look ridiculously adorable in it.

Dungeon master Character A decides that the best thing they could do for the final session of their five year nautical campaign would be to rent out a local pool and host their four players for their most immersive session yet. This was supposed to be some summer fun, but the final battle becomes intense. Characters B and C, party rivals, have a falling out and hold a one on one battle to resolve their differences. As things take a turn, play fighting in the water turns malicious and real. Rhinslow, the barbarian, struggles to breathe as Kaisili, the elf, chokes them beneath the chlorinated ripples in the pool. Character D, their dwarf party member, screams in disbelief and shock when they see Rhinslow -- Character B, their crush -- stop moving. Kaisili -- Character C -- reasoned that their turn would not be over until the Dungeon Master, Character A, said it was over. They'd rolled a natural 20 on their initiative, after all; they deserved this win.

[buzzybee3]

I’ve been on a trip in Mexico. I now have ideas for a chapter. Might just rearrange it for keeping it cleaner but just- the bois-

This is very long. Encapsulated two weeks of my life. Read at your own risk.

(Tw for almost throwing up. Fish carcass. (Unrelated) And a few other questionable but not really things.)

Greenhouse au ideas

•Going to Guadalajara. Also reader has larger family/ is traveling with a large group for the first half. And yes they are technically Hispanic. Or in non Hispanic terms, you passed Spanish class.

- On the first day you buy a bracelet because it reminds you of sun and he is ecstatic. Later you buys one that reminds you of moon.

- There is a swimming pool that is see through so it looks like an aquarium tank.

- You swim there with family/group. Boys watch and have fun. (100% dressed in the outfits sun-e-chips made for their waterspark au) You pretend to be a mermaid. Sorta. You raced some people one on one and lucky you, you won like 50% of the time! Almost drowned at some point but you tried to make sure the boys didn’t realize. They did. That was a fun night. (No it wasn’t)

- The next day you buy a cowboy hat, a leather belt, some leather boots, and a phone holder to attach to the belt, also made of leather. Sun had a field day with that. And then bought all the same things to match, and you love it.

- they go to the beach and you swim in the waves. That day you end up only spending half of the day in the water. When the sun goes down there’s a thunderstorm and sun almost dies trying to get your attention to get you out of the water (yes he is sorta water resistant but he got scared for your safety and you were relaxing too much.

- The next day you all end up going to crab island. The water is clear there and you swim for a few minutes but you hate it because there are a ton of crabs.

- When you go back to the beach you end up brushing along something, it happens a lot, so you pick it up to see what it is and it’s a fish carcass, half of it at least. The tail. 30 minutes later your sister/close female friend finds the exact same carcass.

- It’s horrifying. You end up staying in the water until sundown.

- They go to Islan del Río Nayarit and climb cristo Rey (you die lmao)

- There’s a kid on the way up in one of the houses. Your mom/some older women, asks if he can help them the way up. He says ‘if you don’t kidnap me I’ll help you!’

- This makes you and sun laugh because no one here has need for more or any kids.

- There are a ton of cats.

- (The climb back down they are very worried because your legs are shaky. Shouldn’t have tried to show off your strength climbing a mountain, Jesus.)

- On the trip from cristo Rey to tequila they are trapped in the car for hours but the air is fine. They are in a giant bus/car thing. It fits 19 people not including the driver, plus all of their suitcases so there’s a good amount of space.

- Los dos carnales by el envidioso plays in the background while you start to focus on what’s happening. Around the end of the song someone make it louder so it feels like the intro to a movie. The three of you (you, sun and moon) joke about that.

- We move to a different bus but forget to say bye to the og driver.

- You thinks about him (no not og driver. He will be revealed later in the story) But are reminded that you have sun and moon now. And are happy. Because there are no seatbelts you sit with the boys. They are your seatbelt.

- For the last 9 days they stay at European lifestyle hotel, there are three separate rooms but sun/moon charge in your room for the nights. Cosy.

- They go to ride horses on the third day at the hotel. In Guadalajara in a park with a castle and Japanese gardens called bosque los Colomos.

- The next day you go to Ahihi and Chapala, and buy a moonchim that reminds you of moon with elephants on it.

- In Tonalá you finds a giant fan for only 75 pesos and manage to barter it slightly to make it 70. Its huge. You are very elated.

- In San Juan de Dios, there are tons of artisan shops. Sun finds an apron of loteria that says ‘El Sol’ and buys it without a second thought.

- In same location: man comes up to their group, asking if they want a phone charger that does massages. Goes to the first person (dad/older man in the group) and places it on his shoulder/ back and then the second person too (little brother or Gregory) before getting to you and retracting his arm. Maybe it was your glare or sun’s ‘touch her if you dare look’ but something deterred him.

- Later on in the day everyone goes to the center of Guadalajara and some women does the same thing but they get to you first. Sun is enraged because it makes you scared (you jump and are very embarrassed) and he knows you don’t like touch that you don’t expect. But he manages to smile at the women and tell her ‘we don’t need any’. Mutters afterwards that he’s plenty good at massaging. It makes you laugh (but he’s being serious).

- You sees a dress shop that will make a custom dress for her while on their walk. You really want it but alas it’s around 750 US dollars and therefore too much for you to pay for. Sun and moon are really touchy the next few hours, hugging your waist and sometimes it’s funny or weird for some reason, your hips or even your chest but you don’t think too much on it. They disappear for a few minutes (almost a good hour) the next day while your group is at the the Guadalajara center again. (They are planning something).

- You find a fruit cupshop while they are gone and buy some mangos. Best damn mangos you’ve ever eaten.

- Later of the day of the first disappearance, your group goes to Tlaquepaque (sun and moon are not left behind). When taking a photo in front of the sign you laugh softly because of a kid who is messing around and ask him is he’s taking the photo with you guys. The kid runs and both you and sun laugh. While taking the photo you both stand next to the A because it has sun and moon decals yippee.

- Same day you do the shock game with your family and sun is horrified that humans do this for fun. You enjoy yourself, and get very shocked. You make it to level 5 in the group one but then you go by yourself and it’s much… much worse. You still make it to 5 but you can’t move your arms and sun is still very worried for your safety and also notes, sort of, that you have a lack of self preservation skills.

- The next day they go to Mazamitla. You go to pet tigers and do tons of crazy things like:

- Sun thinks you’re crazy. Notes that you 100% have lack of self preservation skills.

- You guys are in a very precarious van. It’s taking you on this tour. Seats held up by rope and very dirty. You have fun with all the giant divits in the ground as the rickety bus drives. You think it’s very entertaining. Sun is once again horrified. (Even more notes for lack of self preservation)

- Then you go on a zip line while there’s rain. Sun is not happy and goes in the car with you guys. Wearing a coat of course. The truck is rickety and worse, you and everyone else going on the zipline are in the trunk. You meet some very nice, very funny people(Sun is not amused by them) Sofia-Sofie 15, Miguel-migi 17, Viviana-Vivi 17, Alya-Aly 15, and two others who you don’t get the names of but they are both 27 years old.

- (Yes I met these randos in the trunk car ride up the mountain in freezing cold pelting rain. Nothing was gonna stop me from going on that zipline.)

- At some point the rain gets so bad that you all have to wait inside the car smooshed together. Very interesting and smelly but you manage to make it up the mountains by foot to the zip lines.

- The first one is slower, you get more of a view. Holding onto the rope that is attached to you. You almost miss catching the persons hand at the end and almost get stuck further away, when sun arrives (because of course he had to get on now that it was raining) he insists on going first on the second one. The second one goes so fast it sounds like a helicopter. You get specific instructions to hold on to the metal and hang with your legs facing as forward as possible. You get scared and focus more on getting the signal ti let go of the metal, that you miss seeing everything. You see sun at the end though. Very clear yellow against the dark green background.

- When you make it to the end Sun catches you by the waist, holding onto the precarious stairs/platform up in the trees instead of taking your hand, insisting that he didn’t want you to get stuck again.

- Very embarrassing for you yes (and also you blush but we ain’t talking about that) but his mechanical heart was in the right place. He helps you down by sort of lifting you and hurriedly taking your helmet off, knowing that you were gonna be late for your ride, the poorly held together bus. Staying inside of the truck sorta made you behind because it was raining so much.

- You take off the harness as fast as possible. A 4 year old being the one to take your things. It’s a surprise but you follow her instruction and within the minute, sun is carrying you slightly towards the bus. (He doesn’t want you stepping in mud, such a gentleman)

- When you reach the bus, it has a tarp over the windows to protect people from the harsh rain.

- The bus driver sings songs all the way down the mountain which sun, and you, are concerned about because he was also driving.

- He sings 3 songs, very nicely might you add, you wonder why he’s a bus driver. Sun sings to some, obviously accessing the internet to do so and somehow sings in Spanish… (he was fishing for compliments 100% because he didn’t like that you were complimenting the driver so much)

- When you guys get off the bus it’s pouring so hard you can’t go anywhere. You enter Mia’s boutique to get a better sweater, because yours is not meant for rain. You end up just getting a poncho but sun gets one too. You joke about him riding horses now will make him look like an actual cowboy.

- You eat at a random restaurant, ordering a beef hamburger with fries and sit at a two seater with Sun. You eat your fries first happily, and start to drink your lemonade before taking a bite of your hamburger and making a face before setting it down. Getting embarrassed you tell sun you’d rather not eat it because it tasted really strange. Sun scans it and says it’s a mix of pork and beef apparently. Great.

- You go to get a crepe instead. Enjoying it despite the overtly sweet strawberry tinge flavoring. You asked for chocolate… oh well.

- As you eat it you slowly have a harder time swallowing being the flavor is just not agreeing with your taste buds.

- By your last big bite you almost throw up. The bile rises through your throat as you desperately try to keep it all in. It works but sun notices and takes you to the side. Holding you to let you sit on the bench without getting wet (because of the rain) and talks to you about stuff.

- He asks why you tried to finish it even if you knew you didn’t like the flavor. You refrain from telling him about how you were used to always finishing/ being forced to finish your food even if it meant throwing up, and you instead tell him It was just expensive so you didn’t want to waste money. The best lie is the truth after all and that was part of the reason you finish it.

- On the trip back to the car you trip slightly. Sun try’s to catch you even though you don’t fall and the position that leaves you in is very fun! (Once again no. Mud sucks)

- The ride back to the hotel you sleep together in the back of the car, (family/friends are driving) very relaxing 10/10 experience.

- The showers have been having issues, very hot then very cold, but at this point you are used to it.

- Next day you go on a new tour bus. First stop was to Vicente Fernandez’s ranch and pet a ton of horses and see so many new cool flowers that you 100% are adding to the greenhouse.

- Then you go to a tequila factory.

- You taste 5 separate flavors of the 7 being served. All of them you hated. White, peach, mango, coffee, and one other that you don’t remember the name of.

- You don’t feel uneasy or sick at all afterwards. Yay you’re not a lightweight go Mexican genes.

- Then you go at a nice restaurant back in Ahihi. (I don’t think I spelled it right)

- Then on a boat ride on a very questionable boat. You live, but have anxiety about sinking the whole time.

- Then you go to Chapala. You buy a sunflower cowboy hat because it reminds you of Sun.

- Then you buy another Sun related thing, a yellow jar with sand and tiny trinkets inside.

- Now you need to get two moon related things. It’s only fair of course.

- You start to run out of time.

- You don’t end up finding moon things. And see ultimately upset about that. Sun and moon were fine but you still felt really bad about that. It meant a lot to the both that you were so upset about it not being fair though.

- Then you remember you bought the moon wind chime so almost all is forgiven for yourself.

- This time on the way back you end up falling asleep so moon stays with you awake until it’s time.

- You guys end up back at Guadalajara center.

- You start going to the area with the yummy fruit and pass by a clown show. The one from the first week.

- You don’t know how you end up in the situation but one clown is waiting in front of you while everyone chants “beso! Beso”

- You end up saying ‘lo siento pero no me gustan los payasos. Prefiero los jistes.’ (Im sorry but im not into clowns, I prefer jesters)

- Sun/moon are pleased and the crowd goes ‘ahh’ disappointed

- You give sun/moon a kiss on their faceplate and the crowd goes ‘aww’ happily.

- You go buy another mango cup because it’s so yummy, and sun and moon are amused you get it from the same spot as you did only days earlier.

- Second to last day you go back to Guadalajara center and find a necklace that has a moon on it and you are ecstatic. Balance has been restored.

- You go back to the mango shop and learn that the magos they use are Kent mangos? THe most amazing mango’s you’ve ever had that’s for sure.

- Last day at your hotel you start going over everything. Everything you have gets packed into 3 suitcases and 2 duffle bags.

- Sun had a ton of stylish outfits because of course he did, the diva 😒.

- Then he presets the dress he bought. 725 US dollars. Because he knew you really wanted it. You practically cry as you hug and and thank him over and over again.

- You buy a doughnut from Krispy kream at the airport.

- The riee in the airplane is fun, it leaves at 11:30 and lands at 1:55.

- You draw the whole way back. Sun is… he finds the art to be flustering. Because you drew someone’s human sun design getting pulled into a kiss with your self insert. You thought it was funny because sun was right next to you and you wanted to mess with him.

- You almost throw up on the descent because you get dizzy for no reason. It takes 10 minutes for the nausea to go away and sun is worried the entire time.

- When you get home you hardly recognize anything but after you eat lunch you literally forget you even went on a trip.

- You shower and then sun asks if you’ll try the dress on. So you do.

- It’s perfect. The inside was comfortable and soft, and it matched the theme for your greenhouse perfectly.

- When you leave the room you go show sun he is stunned silent.

- You just found the perfect outfit for the opening of your greenhouse.