#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.

[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

[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.

[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.

[tinyidle]

in (the summer) heat - jyh x yn x cjh

Summary: the heat in rabat is intense, and you wish to get a break and feel like the people you work for instead of cleaning their pools. fortunately for you, two handsome men grant your wish for you without you even asking.

Characters/Pairing: yunho x fem!reader x jongho

AU/Trope info: slice of life, strangers to lovers

Genre: smut, pwp

Word Count: 2.2k words

Warnings: coercion/peer pressure (consensual), foreplay: heavy petting/fondling, fingering, double-penetration (p in v + fellatio ft. deepthroating), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (ofc don't do it), doms!jongho and yunho, sub! reader

Rating: M for mature

A/N: about two months overdue.. and i have even more in the drafts fifth submission to @wonderlandnet, tagging @strayteezsimp

it was the beginning of the afternoon, and you'd been cleaning pools since five in the morning, but still, you were getting paid for it, and your boss wasn't really giving you any breaks.

you were cleaning your last pool before going home for the day, and you were glad about it, too. all you wanted to do was go home, shower, and sleep. you'd been doing this for quite a few months now, so it wasn't a problem to do, but the fact that you were sweating and tired and your legs felt like they were going to collapse from the hot, humid weather was something that made it hard.

so far, all the hotels that you've cleaned pools in were all pretty basic and normal. but this one…well, this one was huge and luxurious, with beautiful decorations and the best views of the city. and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the rich people who got to stay in the hotel and experience it for themselves.

just as you were getting ready to leave, you heard voices and footsteps behind you, which startled you. you looked up, and your heart began to pound fast, your face turning hot.

they were none other than choi jongho and jung yunho, famous singers of a famous group who were currently on tour. you didn't think you'd ever meet them, but you've listened to their songs and hoped to see them perform on stage one day. however, since you were on the clock, you decided to continue dong work as normal.

later on that day, you got a call from your manager. "hello?" you answered. your manager said that for the next couple of days you would be getting paid extra to, not clean pools, but to help out two hotel guests who wanted you specifically. being a bit skeptical but also happy that you were getting paid to not be in the hot sun cleaning water garbage, you took the offer and got ready for tomorrow, as per instruction from the two guests.

the next day passed, and you were wondering who called for you specifically at the pool area where anyone could walk in. then you saw them: jung yunho and choi jongho. you were both starstruck and confused. what are they doing here?

you shyly did you best to greet yourself. "h-hi," you greeted yourself, along with stating your name.

they gave you a kind smile and introduced themselves to you. "hey, im yunho, and this is jongho. we're going to be your bosses for the next few days," yunho stated. when you gave a sort of confused look, he explained. "do you know why we asked for only you here? why we asked for you for more than one day? why we reserved the pool for two hours for each day we have with you?" you shook your head, feeling more out-of-the-loop then ever before.

jongho, whose been staring at you the entire time, spoke up. "we saw you the other day, and, even though it sounds crazy," he chuckled to himself before finishing off his point, "we want to get to have some fun with you."

"if you want to, that is," yunho pointed out, wanting you to feel at ease and not all pressured for sex.

this had to be the craziest thing you were asked of by a client, especially since clients barely gave you the time of day. you, a regular pool cleaner, caught the attention of, not one, but two handsome and famous men… and they want you? this had to be some time of joke. but, if it was, then why were they giving you that look? that look that makes your insides heat up and your mind go crazy, that look that you've only seen in those romantic dramas that you've watched?

"um," you stuttered. "what-what did you guys have in mind?"

yunho grinned. "since no is allowed to come here except for us three, we could do whatever we like."

"and since we personally requested you," jongho added, "you can do what we like, and in return we'll do what you like. almost like a mutual exchange."

the older nodded. "so, what do you say, pup?" your cheek tinged dark at the cute yet slightly suggestive pet name. "want to give us a shot?"

you gave them a smile and nodded. "yes," you agreed. you had a feeling this was going to be a lot of fun.

yunho's face lit up, while jongho gave you a sultry, teasing look. "good choice," the younger cooed.

without much warning, the two gave you a kiss on either side of your cheeks. jongho looked down at your casual clothing before asking, "do you have on a swimsuit like requested?"

you nodded, making the older hum in satisfaction. "so, you don't mind us taking your top and sweats off?" you shook your head in confirmation, allowing the two to discard your clothes (along with their own), leaving all three of you in swim attire before stepping into the warm pool. "you're really cute, pup," he praised as he came closer, his body just centimeters away from yours.

you were about to speak, but stopped when jongho suddenly put his hands on your waist, squeezing it. "i bet he's not the only one who thinks that," he mused. he leaned down and gave your lips a small kiss, before kissing down to your neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin, earning a low whimper from you.

yunho moved closer, moving a hand down to cup your core, gently massaging it. he gave you a deep kiss, which was different from the younger's, as yunho's was more passionate and sensual, while jongho was a little rough, a little more dominant, but still very good. the two's hands felt all over your body, from your shoulders to your back and your legs. their hands felt cool against your warm skin, which made you sigh, a sigh that was muffled by yunho's mouth.

suddenly, the two's hands stopped, and yunho and jongho's lips left yours. you looked up, curious as to why they had stopped. jongho chuckled and pecked your lips before he started, "you're already enjoying this, aren't you?"

yunho, who was behind you, nodded. "you're so cute, and you have a great body," he praised, making you blush.

"and since this is our first time together," jongho added, leaning into your ear and whispering, "i think we go slow, right hyung?"

yunho simply nodded while using one of his large hands to massage your left breast while his other went back to your core again, gently teasing it. jongho's hands were still on your waist, and they felt firm and secure, which was comforting.

you couldn't stop yourself from moaning at the new stimulation, with jongho and yunho's actions causing a small pool of arousal to form in you. the two smirked at each other.

"you like this, baby?" yunho questioned. "you like when we tease you?"

"use your words, honey," jongho purred, leaning in closer and whispering into your ear, "don't be afraid to tell us what you want." your mind was going a million miles an hour, and all you could do was pant and moan and nod. jongho clicked his tongue. "what did i just say, baby?" he teased, lightly nibbling at the shell of your ear.

yunho, who had now removed his hand from your core and was instead groping your ass, whispered, "be a good pup for us, okay?" you nodded. "then say, 'thank you for being so nice and touching me.'"

you felt a small pout appear on your face, but did as the two said, earning a smile and kiss from the older and the younger, respectively.

"you're such a good girl for us, honey," jongho praised.

"we're very lucky to have found such a cute, polite puppy," yunho added.

you could only whine, causing the two to chuckle.

"do you want us to make you cum, puppy?" jongho questioned.

"yes, please," you breathed out.

he smirked in response, "well, if you insist." before you could even react, jongho and yunho's mouths were all over you, and you were in heaven.

yunho's hand that was previously on your core had moved inside your bikini bottoms to massage your clit. the other was on your left breast, his hand gently kneading the soft flesh and playing with your nipple. jongho was still teasing your neck, but his free hand had moved up to play with your right breast. you let out a long, loud moan as you felt yourself get closer and closer to climax.

"god, puppy, you sound so good," yunho complimented.

jongho nodded and added, "we're so lucky to have such a sexy and submissive girl like you." the younger then leaned into your ear and whispered, "cum for us, sweetie. we want to see how much of a good baby you are."

and just like that, you were done for. with a final scream, you came all over yunho's fingers. he kept his hand there until you were completely finished, then brought his hand to his mouth, licking up your juices. "you taste amazing," yunho mused, his eyes dark and hungry.

"and we've only just begun," jongho chuckled before giving your neck one last kiss, going up to your ear to whisper. "we're gonna make sure this is the best pool experience you've ever had."

..

all three of you were now naked as plain day, with you currently having your mouth used by jongho and yunho stretching your cunt to oblivion, all while you were on your hands and knees. both men's cocks were huge, and you sort of wished your mouth would be stretched less from jongho's length while wishing yunho would go easier on the depth. nevertheless, you weren't at all complaining.

"you're so tight, baby," yunho groaned, thrusting himself into you at a faster pace. "so tight and wet."

jongho grunted, almost in agreement. "and her mouth is so hot, soft and warm. she's perfect."

your mind was going blank and hazy, and the only thing you could do was moan and cry out. the two men were doing a great job at pleasing you, and you were grateful to be the one they laid their eyes on.

jongho's thrusts were fast and deep, and you knew he was close by the way he was starting to tremble. you could feel yourself getting close, too, and from the sounds of yunho's labored breaths and grunts, he was, too. "shit, baby, im gonna cum," jongho growled.

"same here," yunho panted as his thrusts become less rhythmic and more erratic.

both men were now using you as their dump, and it was turning you on immensely. it wasn't long before the two of them were reaching their highs.

"oh, fuck, baby, im cumming!" jongho grunted, his body stiffening as he came in your mouth.

yunho was soon after. "shit, pup! im cumming!" he gasped, his whole body convulsing as he released inside of you.

as soon as the two finished, they pulled out and let go of your hair, letting you take a deep breath. they gave you a few seconds to regain your bearings before pulling you up, bringing you to a hug.

after a minute or two, the two pulled out of you and moved you to the next position. jongho was laying on a bench while you rode him with your back facing him, and yunho was jerking himself off to the sight of you in front of him. "god, baby, you're so pretty," the older cooed, stroking himself slowly.

"i love it when i see my cock go in and out of you," jongho purred. "fuck, you're so tight and hot, and you make such pretty noises." he moved his hips up into yours in a faster pace, holding you down to make you truly feel him.

you whimpered, feeling your second orgasm coming close.

"come on, pup, cum for us," yunho whispered. "let me see you cum all over jongho's cock."

and just like that, you felt yourself reach another high.

"thats it, baby, cum," jongho grunted. "such a good girl."

"you're so good for us," yunho cooed, reaching his second high, cumming all over your chest and stomach.

it wasn't long before jongho came in you, pulling your back to him so he could hold you while waiting for his length to soften before carefully pulling out of you.

yunho got a towel from the rack and wiped his release off your chest before helping jongho clean up your center cautiously. once that was done, the two held you close, kissing and caressing your face and hair.

continuing to hold you to make sure your aftershocks subside, he praised you"you're amazing, and we're so glad you agreed to this," jongho sighed.

"im glad, too," you panted.

the two kissed you one last time before taking you back to your room in the hotel, and, since it was late, they decided to stay with you.

it was the best pool experience ever, and you couldn't wait to do it again.

[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.

[littleweezel]

Chapter 7 of Coming in First, a Good Omens Triathlon AU is Up!

Rated E for Explicit Sex

Summary: AJ Crowley was a talented cyclist who crashed and burned out in his 20s. Twenty-some years later, he lived in the US, worked a boring job, and spent all of his free time training for and participating in triathlons.

Ezra Fell was a swimming phenom who couldn’t handle the pressure of being an elite athlete. He moved to another continent, opened a bookshop, and discovered triathlon as a low-pressure way to stay in shape while doing something he loved.

After competing against each other for years, the two men—who were radically different on the surface—realized they had more in common than they expected. Could their friendship possibly lead to more? (*slaps explicit sex warning* What do you think?)

Chapter 7 Excerpt: “Jesus Christ, AJ, you look like you lost a fight with a vacuum cleaner,” they smirked at him. They were attracting attention. The teenage lifeguard definitely paid closer attention to them than the pool.

“Shhhh! Shuddup,” AJ pleaded.

“Who was it?”

“I’ll tell you under one condition,” he said. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me. Or him.”

Beez looked mischievously gleeful. “I’m not agreeing to those terms. Who was it?”

He knew the quickest way to end this conversation was to give Beez what they wanted, so he said, “Ezra Fell.”

Their mouth dropped open. “The Angel?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” They scratched their chin and looked at AJ as though pondering this for a moment. “Wouldn’t have thought he was your type. Is this going to be a thing?”

Read on from the beginning on AO3!

Shout out to @ModernDayKlutz for the beta on this fic! Thank you so much for your help, Klutzy!

@goodomensafterdark

[ladykailitha]

Nanny AU please!

WIP Wednesday!

Just clearing out my inbox, join me next week!

Other ask here, here, here, here, here.

Snippet

“It’s all right, Joanie,” Steve soothed when she got really upset about almost knocking her plate on the floor. “You learned a valuable lesson in making sure your plate is pushed far enough on the table that it won’t get easily spilled.”

She sniffled but nodded.

They went back to eating and as Steve was cleaning up Chrissy asked him what he wanted to discuss at the table that got sidetracked by the girls.

“Just wondering when we should start looking for other help,” he said over his shoulder as he washed the dishes. “I don’t think we need to start right away for the cleaner and cook since there won’t be a lot of need for it, but a pool cleaner, ground maintenance, and gardener/ groundskeeper should be our top priorities.”

[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?)

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Soon the world will be ours

Fictober Trope: Uma/Jay — I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston —Urban Fantasy AU

Part I: What me, a traitor?

School nights were always strange. No matter how mundane, there was always a strange, volatile feeling floating between the traffic noises, the barking of the dogs and the chirping of cicadas. As if such a moment had magical properties of its own. A particularly crude kind of magic, with the smell of car oil and old paint peeling from the humidity.

Uma was sure that in a small, remote town like this, the feeling was due to abandonment. It slowly took over the houses and the people, and left a vague premonitory feeling that one day no one would remember this place, it would remain as nothing more than a ghost in their memory.

On a Friday like this, six thirty in the afternoon, trying to understand the complicated words in her textbook, the orange sun of the sunset beating down on her face, Uma feeling the proximity of the night tickling the back of her neck. A Friday like all the Fridays in the world, all coexisting at that very moment.

“Due to the multi-diverse nature of a supercomposite spell, all original components must be taken into account both individually and collectively, and how each set interacts with its components to create a new product.”

Instead of concentrating on the assignment, Uma often found herself wandering about the complicated nature of these texts, wondering how the people who wrote them had learned all that and then decided that redundant words and confusing phrasing were the correct way to convey the information.

Uma threw her book into her backpack and peered through the cracks in the blinds. The sun had set, and Uma felt a surge of voltage zip through her chest. In the dim light of her room, the posters of horror movies and pop band albums were distorted by the dim light, shifting watercolor shadows. Uma threw her jacket over her shoulders and bounded down the stairs.

“Uma! You better not run out like that tomorrow, I told you I need you to take the night shift,” the voice of her mother, Ursula, came from the cracked pool in the backyard where she spent her afternoons in her octopus form, trying to reach the sensation of the waves in that lime-smelling water.

Uma opened the front door with more force than necessary, making noise so her mother would know she had heard her.

“And those dishes ain’t gonna wash themselves!”

Share my life Take me for what I am 'Cause I'll never change All my colors for you

The entire galaxy spilled out into the sky. Uma tried to mentally name every color in the night sky as she sped along on her bike, dodging potholes as the wind whispered the neighborhood gossip into her ear.

Turquoise, purple, royal blue. Flush! The clouds seemed to melt between the stars like colorful cotton candy. Tina still hasn't picked up the laundry from the dry cleaner. Ahead were the downtown stores with their buzzing signs and the apartment buildings lighting up window by window. Pastel pink, mint green, scarlet red. Johnny wants to quit his job.

The familiarity of the city squeezed her heart like one of her mother’s hugs. Invasive, uncomfortable, deeply comforting. She wanted to pull away immediately and reject the warmth, but it was too comfortable, too sweet in all its suffocating nature.

A Friday like every other Friday. The buildings were grey, their windows emanating the warm amber of the interior. The shops were colorful and children with sticky hands escaped from their mothers to peer into the shop windows. New televisions were displayed next to outdated models of never-sold vacuum cleaners.

On the avenue, middle-class kids passed by, crowding around Anthony Tremaine's yellow convertible. The extra-large horns blared and made everything jump. The old man from the butcher shop came out in a huff, shouted a spell in Latin at them, and the yellow car swayed as if a giant hand had shaken it.

Uma turned into an alley between buildings and braked. The metal door, hidden between the trash cans, was closed, so she knocked into it hard. Desirée opened it, a scarf in her hair and a tray under her arm.

"It’s rush hour. You’ll have to take the service stairs, boss,” she said.

Inside, steam from the stove made the waiters sweat and grease from the fryer stuck to the walls. Uma crossed the kitchen and ran upstairs, where the noise from the cafeteria grew old and distant.

Harry had his head buried in wires, a pen behind each ear. He reached for the screwdriver and scratched his head, trying to remember which wires to save first if the circuits had been compromised. The constant beeping of the power center was starting to drive him mad.

“Shut. Up! ”

“Harry!”

He jumped up, inadvertently dropping pens, paper notes, wires, and tools onto the floor. A screw rolled to Uma's feet. She closed the door and picked it up. She had already put her gloves on, Harry noticed.

Take my love I'll never ask for too much Just all that you are And everything that you do

“Missing me?”

“Uma,” he said, his crooked grin reaching down to his pointed, dented ears. “What are you, an evil elf?” Uma had said to him the first time they’d met. “No, sadly,” Harry had replied. “I’m only human.”

Still, Uma was sure there was some spooky mysticism to him. She liked that.

“Are we all set?”

“I don't do tools work, and they left me alone,” Harry replied, emerging from the nest of cables he had found himself in, grumbling.

“ Chill. Gil is on his way.”

“It’s been unbearable,” Harry continued, shaking his head.

Uma dropped into the swivel chair in front of the main panel and looked at the screens that filled the wall and illuminated that room of sad objects and forgotten dreams. Shadows of boxes looming between the computers. One, two, three screens out of service. That left them with two channels unreachable.

But at least four monitors were transmitting the desired images. Live television projecting its greenish light dots across the thick screen. Romance movies, animal life documentaries, a report on the governor of Camelot. The usual for Auradon's open television.

She smiled as she identified the target for the evening. Auradon TV, the only channel that all televisions on the Island tuned into. The only one the Isle's population could access without hacking and piracy. They were now broadcasting their usual afternoon gossip show, recounting all the drama between Princess Melody and the outdated dress she had worn to the most recent ball.

Adam kept saying the reason no other channels reached the Isle was an inescapable peculiarity of the air around that zone. They would fix it, eventually, even if they haven’t been able in more than ten years. Now Uma knows for sure it is a lie.

How perfectly convenient. The population he wants more eagerly to keep isolated stays in the dark, unable to learn anything about the outside world. The only window to the rest of Auradon being the mindless, carefully constructed view they want them to have of them. Another gear on his propaganda machine.  

But if Adam won't give them more windows, Uma will poke as many wholes as necessary.

“How long until the transmission loads?”

“I'm not sure, love. If Gil were here…”

“Relax, Harry,” she said, and was surprised by her own optimistic tone. “We can wait for him.”

She sat back on the chair, caressing the surface of the keyboard. Any of the channels Gil had gained access to would do. They were all knowledge, and it was their mission to give it back to the villain children, piece by piece.

I don't really need to look Very much further I don't wanna have to go Where you don't follow

Harry scooted his chair over to Uma’s and dropped his head into her lap. “We make a mess tonight, darling.”

Uma pressed her forehead to Harry's. His skin was dry and cold, contrary to her, cheeks flushed and hair warm from the last sunset rays. His hair still smelled like the damp, dense air of the lagoon. Through it, Uma could picture his father's boat; heavy, worn out fiberglass, rocking in the clogged murky waters, the bitter smell of alcohol and resentment of its walls.

“You bet we do.”

She pulled away, and with her finger traced a sigil over his face, his chin, his nose, his forehead. For a second it sparkled, like miniature fireworks between them.

“What was that for?”

“Protection,” Uma said. “There's been more vandalizing lately, I don't want you to get cursed.”

It was almost true—Hook's ship was already covered in sigil graffiti everywhere—but if she's being honest, Uma hoped the sigil would also scare away the deadly melancholy that plagues his father.

Harry stayed still, staring at her.

“What?”

Harry smiled. “Your face… it shimmers.”

“You pick today's program,” Uma answered, rolling her eyes.

Harry’s eyes glowed and widened like a cat’s. The greenish lights of the monitor loomed over him, accentuating the shadows of his smile. “A horror movie!”

“Perfect,” Uma said, letting out the shadow of a laugh. “Just in time for Halloween.”

The door busted open. Gil walked in with an electrifying grin and pounced on the available chair, sliding over to where they were. His hands and face were covered in car grease, his faded Sherwood Forest Falcons shirt permeated with the smell of gasoline.

“You guys are not gonna believe who I just saw outside!”

“You were supposed to be here hours ago!” Harry exclaimed, getting up and gesticulating toward the screen.

Gil's smile seemed nailed to his skin with how stretched and immovable it was. Harry's words flew over him.

“Carlos de Vil!”

Harry's eyes went white in an expression that was half nervous twitch, half sneer. Uma just stared, very still.

“Really?” she said.

“He was just walking with Professor Yen Sid on the street! I told Jonas to follow him, we should kidnap him!”

That caught Harry's attention more. He smiled and shook Gils' shoulders, excitement growing on his chest.

“Aye, that's a great idea! We could broadcast him to Auradon and scare the whole bloody kingdom off their skin…”

The tinge of anger in his voice lit a spark in his eyes, and he stood up straight, triumphant in a sort of superhero pose. Uma could feel all his illusions, flying around in a whirlwind inside his head.

“We could…” Uma whispered, tapping on the arm of the chair.

But something worried her. Her eyes narrowed in thought. Carlos de Vil. Yen Sid. They hadn't heard anything about it, neither on the news channels nor on the gossip channels. Why would he come back?

Carlos had his precious passport, a scholarship at Auradon Prep, and a life that had been as far removed from the Island as humanly possible. The mother he left behind has long since sunk under the weight of her own bitterness. The town had forgotten her, along with the ramshackle house with rusty hinges and rotten wood that the blizzards tear apart little by little, and where Cruella remained as if the house had become part of her.

There's nothing left for Carlos here. Nor for any of them.

“He didn't come alone, did he?” Uma said, unable to stop the anger seeping into her voice. “They must have come with him.”

As if responding to that omen, the small transmitter hanging around Harry's neck began to make noise.

“… oss I… th …” a voice started to come through the wall of static, and Harry ripped it off to move the antenna.

“First Mate here, over.”

The static answered her, ominous in the deathly silence their nervousness had created. Uma held her breath until they heard the click on the other end.

“… nas here… er you, over.”

Jonas's voice was much clearer now, and Uma immediately noticed that he was whispering. Like he was hidden.

“Captain…” Jonas said, breathing slowly over the radio. “Just spotted Jay in a bar…”

I won't hold it back again This passion inside Can't run from myself There's nowhere to hide

Her heart dried up and tightened like a raisin. It felt stupid, to care so much. Gil and Harry's faces told her everything, trying to hide the disappointment they still felt like a sore that never fully healed.

The veil of years and forgotten dreams passed before her eyes like the halo of a ghost. A sentimentality that she felt ashamed of still treasuring, in the memory of eyes and a laugh and a voice that were no longer there. He might as well be dead, with how much his absence had penetrated.

And it was strange, how far away it felt. Uma remembered the greenish light of the store filtering in distorted halos through the fish tanks. The shadows of Christmas lights that were never taken down, gathering dust between the old cat cages. The glitter-covered plastic floor and the ghostly sight of the life-size cardboard cutout of King Adam by the cash register.

She remembered arriving with nervous aggression, squeezing his house keys in her hand until they made indentations on the palm. He saw her first, through a space between the fish tanks. He was smiling when Uma looked at him.

“You have my mother’s eels,” she had said coldly, without any pretense of formality.

It had taken Jay a few seconds to react, staring into her eyes.

“Hey, the name's Jay.”

He was leaning against a shelf of fish food, a half-smile slightly crooked by a fresh cut in the middle of his lip. He was all ragged baggy jeans and frizzy strands of hair over small, mischievous eyes.

“Don't worry, I'm a great eel dad,” he said, raising an eyebrow with that ridiculous, charming smile.

He spent the afternoon in the back room of the pet shop convincing her that the eels were safe with him and was not intimidated by her stoicism. He was energetic, daring and shameless.

“You could say we have an electric bond; do you feel me?”

The first thing Uma thought of him was that he had a stupid laugh, muffled by a teenage cough and infinitely confident. The second thing was that Jay gave off the same chaotic air as Harry. A strange aggression barely contained in the tension of his muscular arms. Jay handed her a handful of powdered eel food for the two of them to throw into the fish tank. Lagan and Derelict put their snouts to the glass as soon as Jay approached them.

“Check it out, they love me already,” he said, genuinely excited. “You see, I happen to be a professional heartbreaker.”

He gave Uma a wink, and she allowed the shadow of a smile to pull from her lips.

Uma is still not sure why she came back many times after and sat on the plastic box next to the empty cages that smelled of wet dog, feeding the eels while Jay flirted tirelessly until the heat of the evening steamed the puddles on the floor and the place became stifling.

Harry's initial jealousy only exacerbated Jay's brazenness. He waited for her outside school, biting his lip, anxiously awaiting the moment when he could jump into a spot next to them on the sidewalk and steal some attention.

“What a coincidence to see you here, must be fate.”

“Hey, gorgeous, I thought I could come by and bring you this super cool ring I found, you know, it just reminded me of you.”

“If I ever find that damn lamp, I'm going to wish to be the earth you step on, sweetheart.”

They never knew when the distrust faded. Harry began to let go of the initial bitterness through the fake fights he had with him, in which Jay was unable to take anything seriously and Harry took everything with great personal seriousness. Punches turned into laughter and accidental enthusiasm for the same things.

In no time Harry was all over Jay. Hugs that from the outside looked a little too restraining, hands casually resting around his neck. Always with his hands on him. Invasive affection still tinted in aggression, but unmistakably friendly.

Gil was charmed from the start. He would laugh at Jay's bad jokes and give him a pat on the back that took all the air out of him, until they were both pushing each other.

“Bro, you should do parkour with me!”

It was a terrible idea. But Uma had never seen Gil so excited, even when he fell off roofs and slipped off walls a hundred times. Afterwards, they sat in the park with its rickety swings and yellow grass, their faces covered in bruises, sharing a comically large bag of cheap snacks that tasted like cardboard Jay had stolen from Facilier's store.

Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore

Jay fit in with them like a piece they didn't know was missing, slipping slowly through the cracks until he penetrated their barriers. Suddenly, he was there. Another body to hug, another loud voice, another name ever present in the back of their minds. His aggressive energy matched their own, growing and boiling until they were drunk in it.

Professional thieves wrecking everything on their path. Jay, enthusiastic show off and seasoned kleptomaniac, would get them in trouble constantly, getting too comfortable in his craft and stopping mid-chase to collect anything shiny he thought Uma would like. But he would always come through; he was good at it, terribly, stupidly good. It seemed there was nothing he couldn't get away with.

It's probably one of the first things that caught Mal's eye (another ghost from Uma's past, another rip in her heart), and made her want him in her gang again, like when they were little kids. Uma never thought he would take up her offer.

That's how secure their wrap felt. Living in a haze of blood and party and recklessness that for some inexplainable reason was the safest place they knew.

An irrational, resentful part of her thought she should have known. After all, Jay was raised to be a snake.

But it is hard to reconcile it. For a second, their lives had felt tethered forever, and maybe they still were. With how much his ghost still lingered, despite their best efforts to ignore it.

Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there

There is something unforgettable in the way Jay looked at her. Like all misery was worth looking into her eyes. Uma was made of rough edges, a bellicosity deep in her bones that made her hungry for power. Back then, Uma couldn't understand the depts of that anger that threatened to break her apart.

But Jay had. He pushed back her, dug right into her spikes and revealed in her darkness, seeing through her and wanting her with every fiber of his being.

“I know you love me, babe,” he would say, getting his face too close to her and laughing ecstatically when she grabbed his chin in an iron grip.

Uma didn't want to think about how much she had liked it. That pull and back that turned into attachment that turned into yearning. Uma doesn't know when it is she let Jay invade her every breath. Her mother's indifference, the phantom of the family's greatness, the wound of having been born helpless; it all disappeared under his touch. And for Jay, she made the devastating anger and the parasitic loyalty to Jafar and the helpless prospect of the future all turned little.

This youthful, blurring love affair was all that existed. Uma still has his adoration burned into her mind. Carnal, careful touches over the stiff sheets of her bed, her lava lamp barely breaking through the hazy darkness of that night, starts and ashes of magic floating all around them. Reverence glimmering in Jay's eyes, amid this suffocating intimacy, kissing her neck and stroking down her legs and whispering, “Uma… Uma… Uma.”

Like he needed to summon her at every second. Like her presence was as fleeting as a sea wave, and Jay would cling to her, desperate to inhale her for as long as she would have him.

Harry could never forgive him for hurting her. For not answering Gil's calls. For leaving them. Like her, Harry still has Jay's kiss tattooed on his skin.

This hatred and hurt that now blinded them, as the static on the radio kept buzzing, a blur of past present and future liquefying on the blinding blue glow of the screens, it could only come from something just as strong. And maybe that was the worst part of it all:

It had been real.

And he still had left.

“Jonas,” Uma said, voice firm as iron. “Size the little birdy; he has a show to perform.”

Don't walk away from me I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you, you, you, you, you, you

***

This is strange, right? I'm still trying to strech my abilities after a long health issue that prevented me from writting, but I liked this.

Okey, hi, thanks for reading. This was one several drafts I left abandoned last year when I was trying once again to do fictober (that is clearly not for me) but I thought this October I would try to come back to them. Basically I put spotify to reproduce songs from my playlist on a random order and the first four would be paired with whatever character/ship I thought of first.

Some really unique ideas came from that, such as this one. The flavor of the song inspired me to make an urban fantasy amd I tried to give it a kind of an 80s coming of age romance feel.

This has two other parts planned, exploring more of Mal and Jay's perspective. Tell me if you would like to see those and the other songfics I had, and what you think of this weird little thing I made.

[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

[karizard-ao3]

What about the pool boy AU?

All I've got is this, which is a very short continuation of Historia and Mrs. Reiss' conversation after Mikasa hung up on them that I posted for someone in the comments of Poolboy 3:

Bonus: Mrs. Reiss and Historia Convo, continued

Historia gasped indignantly. "That little bitch hung up!"

Mrs. Reiss raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like she has better things to do," she said, unable to stop the smile that twitched at the corners of her lips. "And are you sure it was a drummer? I thought it was a bass player."

"He was after," said Historia. "I'm pretty sure she broke up the band."

Mrs. Reiss shook her head admiringly. "That girl is living the dream." She cast her daughter a conspiratorial look. "Eren's an excellent pool cleaner but the real reason I hired him was so I can watch him work from the upstairs window."

"Mom! Ew!" said Historia. 

"If only I was 20 years younger and single," Mrs. Reiss sighed. 

"Try 40 years younger," sniffed Historia.

Mrs. Reiss gasped, looking wounded.

Mr. Reiss glanced up from his newspaper. "What are you girls talking about?" he said.

"Mom is daydreaming about fucking your poolboy," said Historia.

"Just use protection, dear," said Mr. Reiss, dryly. 

"That won't be necessary," said Mrs. Reiss. "Mikasa got to him first."

"Oh, did she?" said Mr. Reiss, raising an eyebrow. "Good for her. Do you remember the time she was fucking that drummer?"

[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.