#tumblr can like. never be normal about these discussions. sigh

[thefoolsprocession]

Trans woman of colour on tumblr: White transgender women, especially ones from the imperial core, need to consider the fact that their whiteness and class upbringing is going to influence their political ideologies and their social interactions with other people on the internet

Tme people in the notes: omg so true I hate white trannies they should all kill themselves… most of them are pedos as well like 😭

28-year-old white trans woman named after a homestuck character: Um op this is really transmisogynistic… you should stop advocating for the social murder of actual transgender women on tumblr…. Idc if you’re a trans woman yourself you’re just a pandering assimilationist!!!

[to-thelakes]

sick day (well... sick month)

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; after yet another doctor's appointment, frank takes care of his sick - and frustrated - girlfriend

warnings; fluffy as hell, mentions of medication, discussions of eczema and being sick with the flu, brief mention of guns

notes; this is my first time posting my one-shots on tumblr so hello! i've done a little bit of posting on ao3 but i've always been a little scared to post here but here i am! now, this fic, it is a purely self-indulgent fluffy fic and it's the first in my fluffbruray fics. i'm hoping to do a fic every day of this month but i'm in uni and about to start a new job so whether that will happen is anyone's guess! but this fic is just some frank fluff because i've been going through a bunch of health issues and i needed the comfort from my favourite big bad punisher <3 i did proof-read it but it's not beta-read or anything so apologies for any grammar mistakes! i hope you enjoy <3

ao3

When you trudged back into the apartment after your appointment at the clinic, Frank could tell something was wrong. He had been cleaning up his guns at the table when he heard the door close. There was no call of his name or any sort of greeting; only a quiet shuffle of shoes being discarded and your coat being hung up. A frown was quick to spread across his face as he pushed the chair back, walking to meet you in the hallway.

“Everythin’ alright, sweetheart?” He asked. You looked up at him, tears welling in your eyes as you shook your head. He frowned but was quick to wrap you up into a hug. Your face buried in his strong chest as you sniffled.

“Apparently it’s normal and there’s nothing they can do to help me,” You mumbled against the fabric of his shirt. It smelt like him and that seemed to make it all so much better. Frank sighed and he used one of his hands to cradle the back of your head. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you somehow closer.

“We’ll figure something out, yeah?” He said. You sniffled before nodding your head. You didn’t know what you were going to do. It had been over a month and you didn’t feel any better. It was exhausting. When you had gotten the flu, you hadn’t expected to still feel the effects now. You’d never had it before and you were at the point where you wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Your health had plummeted and it was infuriating. 

It also didn’t help that your new-found eczema had spread to your nose. You had done everything that the doctor had told you yet he still seemed out to punish you. You had never felt more disgusting and your nose hurt constantly. The constant dripping and blocking from when you had the flu would go away with time - apparently - but you didn’t really believe that at this point.

“I’m so tired,” You mumbled. Frank sighed and he pressed a kiss to your hair before pulling back. He cupped your face with his hands, looking into your eyes.

“You put the cream on yet?” He asked, his voice was gruff but soft. You shook your head and he nodded, glancing back at the table. The gun was still in parts but you were more important to him right now so he slipped his hand into yours, “Let me help ya put it on.” You nodded and he led you over to the bathroom. You stripped your jeans off and he grabbed the cream from where you had left it the night before.

“At least my leg is getting better,” You muttered, attempting to be optimistic. Frank smiled at you, glad to see some of your normal self coming back to the surface. He couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t broken his heart seeing how crushed you had been recently. Getting out of bed for work had been a struggle every day but you had managed to do it and he was proud of you.

“Attagirl.” That familiar grin had spread across his face and you couldn’t help but smile back; though that made your nose hurt. 

The cold winter air had made the eczema on your nose sting on your walk back to the apartment but you knew that it would be okay as soon as the cream was on.

“Put your leg up,” He said once he had gotten down on one knee. He patted his thigh and you lifted your foot up, resting it there. He squeezed a fingertip of cream onto his finger before spreading it across the marks on the side of your thighs. It didn’t tingle as much as it had the first few times you put it on but there was still an uncomfortable feeling that lingered.

“He said that the flu probably caused the eczema, not my medication,” You said after a beat of silence. Frank had switched out to the moisturiser now and was spreading it across the underside of your thigh as you spoke. Frank scoffed and lifted his hand away from your leg, tapping your calf. You put your leg down.

“Course,” He commented. You could tell by the look on his face as he clambered back to his feet that he didn’t believe that. You didn’t really either. Frank cleaned his hands off before reaching for the steroid cream again.

“He still dropped the dosage but I dunno,” You mumbled, not entirely sure what you were trying to say. You just felt frustrated and it felt like nobody was really taking you seriously. You knew something was wrong and maybe it was just your medication but it still felt frustrating that nobody seemed to care enough to talk through everything with you.

“One step at a time,” He mumbled and you nodded. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and you moved to stand between his thighs as he angled your face towards him. He then spread the small dot of cream onto your nostril where the eczema had begun to spread.

“Thank you,” You said after a moment. Frank switched out for the moisturiser again and began to dab across your nose. He was being careful. He knew how sensitive your face was at the moment and he didn’t want to cause you any more pain.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” He responded before letting go of your face. The cream would take a few minutes to soak in but then there would at least be some relief from the aching pain. He leant forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead before you stepped out of the way.

“I’ll make us lunch,” You suggested. Frank switched the taps on and nodded, washing his hands off, “Pasta?” A grin spread across Frank’s face - replacing the previously stoic look - and you knew that it was a yes. You chuckled, stepping towards him to press a kiss to his cheek before you disappeared out of the bathroom. 

Frank had always been a pasta lover and it was the reason you had met him.

The first time you met the Big Bad Punisher, Frank had stumbled through your window - half-dead - while you were cooking one of your mum’s pasta dishes. It had been famous in your home town for how good it was and it seemed to have drawn Frank Castle in just like it had your dad to your mum all those years ago. Looking back, the scenario was amusing. But at the time, not so much.

Frankly, you had been terrified considering that the Punisher was standing in your living room demanding pasta while he was bleeding on your carpet. Initially, you had stood there frozen but then Frank nearly collapsed and you spent the night feeding him pasta and tending to his wounds. You remembered the next morning that Frank was gone and so were the leftovers. You had tried to be mad but it was somehow endearing.

You hadn’t expected to see him again but you did when you were cooking that pasta again. He had come knocking on your window and part of you wanted to berate him for stealing the leftovers but you didn’t have the heart to. The fact that you were now dating Frank still confused you sometimes. He was meant to be a terrifying, menacing murderer and yet when he was around you, he was nothing but attentive, loving and devoted. 

Maybe it was the pasta is something you often mused but Frank assured you that he loved you for a lot more than your pasta. There was a sense of safety with him and just as you were finished collecting all your ingredients for the meal, he appeared, wrapping his arms around you.

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded and leant back into hold.

“Much.” He grinned and kissed your face once more before he let you return back to your cooking. He loved to watch you work.

<3

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄFavorite Professorꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere College Au

❦Never give a low score to a delinquent❦

Sanzu Haruchiyo & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Japanese language is red

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Favorite Professor

Y/n meets the stoic gaze that doesn’t match the hostile aura of the male standing at her desk.

“What is this?” Her student known as Haitani Rindo asks, shoving his phone in her face as she eyes the screen. She leans over her desk as she crosses her legs, interlocking her hands.

“Ah yes, your midterm exam? I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about your dropping score, Mr. Haitani. I’m concerned as you used to be one of the highest graded students along with your friend Mr. Akashi. What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? Obviously, your grading skills are lacking.” He states calmly. Her eyes widen slightly at the deflection before returning to her normal gaze out of professionalism.

“I assure you that my years of schooling and even being accepted in this profession was not in vain. It’s not my place to say, but usually when situations like this occur, there’s a distraction going on outside of the classroom.” She responds, only for him to glare at her before crossing his arms. She sighs.

“Mr. Haitani, the only thing you can do is try to achieve a higher grade with the assignments and final. I also have extra credit discussion boards posted online for your submission.”

He only narrows his eyes at her before walking away from the desk, the chill in her spine leaving along with the energy that follows him. She breathes out a sigh before returning to her laptop, completing her work.

Rin walks side by side with his brother and Sanzu as they head to the cafeteria.

“Didn’t go well?.” Ran chuckles as he observes his brother’s body language. He ignores him as they walk through the doors, irritation engulfing him as he thinks about the professor’s words.

“Wanna do something about it?” Sanzu smirks. The younger Haitani side glances at his friend, giving a thought to what those words could mean.

The next day, Y/n sits at her desk that morning, eyeing her screen as she types on the keyboard. She halts her movements as she sees the younger Haitani walking in with a coffee cup in hand.

“Hello, Professor. I wanted to apologize for my outburst yesterday. I was disappointed with the grade and took it out on you. Please accept this coffee as my gratitude for your leniency on my actions.” He says with a sincere look as he hands her the coffee. Her eyes widen at the gesture as she takes the coffee.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Haitani. That’s very mature of you.” She responds smiling as she sips from the cup. He nods, a smirk forming as he sits in his seat, to her confusion though she ignores it and minds her business.

Thirty minutes later, she finishes the coffee, eyeing the clock and seeing that she has an hour and a half before she lectures her first class. She’s usually at the university about two to three hours before to create her lectures and make sure everything is set in place for her classes, which is why the coffee was a nice surprise. His presence wasn’t so bad besides the chilling feeling of eyes observing her, but thats probably just her imagination.

A few minutes passed and sweat began to form as she started breathing heavily. A heated feeling builds in her core as her body begins to tingle. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as her body tenses. Wetness forms as she squeezes her legs together, her clit gaining a heartbeat as her nipples harden. Her hands start trembling as anxious thoughts take over.

What’s going on? What’s happening to me?

“How was your coffee, Professor?” Rin smirks as he walks from his seat, two of her students walking in to the room before they stand in front of her desk, one holding a baton.

“What is this? What did you do to me?” She questions with shaky words.

Before anything else is said, Sanzu sits at one of the seats in the auditorium closest to her desk as he props the phone up, yet doesn’t hit record until it’s the correct time.

Ran walks behind her desk, swinging her over his shoulder as Rin shoves everything off of her desk. She hits Ran’s back as she kicks her feet, growling curses as she’s suddenly dropped on the desk resulting in pain for her bottom and backside.

Both men force her on her stomach as her feet hit the ground.

“We should’ve drugged her with more than the aphrodisiac.” Sanzu states as he crosses a leg, his face in his palms as his elbows meet the table.

“We need her awake for this to work.” Ran responds, lazily smiling as he pulls her skirt up, showing her panties. She gasps as she attempts to break free from Rin’s hold on her back and wrists.

“If you keep struggling, we’ll have to knock you out for a bit. Do you want that?” Rin asks, smirking at her distressed state. She shakes her head as she attempts to relax her shaking body.

“Th-this! Whatever this is, it’s not okay! The dean…!”

She screams as a painful sensation forms after a smacking sound. She turns her head back to see what landed on her ass to cause so much agony. Her eyes widen when she sees Ran pulling back the baton before slamming it against her bottom once more, resulting in another shriek. Rin removes her sweater as he balls it up and shoves it into her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes as she could feel the throbbing skin bruising. He crouches to meet her face to face, smiling as he licks his lips.

“Now, Y/n. You should be thanking Sanzu because that stimulant is going to help us make this a lot easier for you.” Her eyes shut as another yelp leaves her lips, muffled by the cloth as the baton meets her aching ass again.

“Look at him and say thank you.” He grabs her head, turning it to face the smirking pink haired man who waves back. She doesn’t respond, too humiliated to comply. Another smack from the object causes her to grunt as more tears fall from the pain.

“Thank you!” She muffled before her head was turned back to the Haitani.

“This is how it’s gonna go. We’re going to take this video of you, then so you don’t get caught seducing us, you’re going to fix my grade. If not, then kiss this job and your reputation goodbye.”

She stares at him wide eyed, disbelief from the cruel behavior he’s revealing. He stands from his position, unbuckling his pants as he reveals his erection. He pulls the sweater out of her mouth and motions for her to begin. Ran pulls her panties to the side, having already pulled his girth out, readying it to her entrance. Her legs clench, conflicting emotions occurring as arousal prowls yet the situation at hand being unfortunate for her job title.

“Time is ticking, Professor.” Sanzu taunts as he presses the record button. Reluctantly she opens her mouth as Rin eases in until her lips reach his base, gagging slightly as he adjusts. Ran pushes in, shoving his erection all the way to the base. He grabs her hips as Rin holds her head, beginning to throat fuck her as saliva drips from her mouth, mixing in with the precum.

“I always knew, since the first time you walked in, you’d be good at nothing but taking dick. You suck at grading.” Deciding that they can edit whatever they want out later, he taunts her, grunting as he accelerates his hips, thrusting hard as his tip hits the back of her throat each time, her eyes squeezed shut. His blonde hair flipping against his neck as he moves.

She releases a moan she was holding back as Ran moves faster against her backside, skin smacking skin as his cock hits her cervix. The shame in enabling the behavior hitting her as she cries out once more, the aphrodisiac causing her to feel weighed down by the pleasure, her legs clenching as the front of her body aches from her position over the desk.

“Wow Professor, you're really sucking me in. Is this what you wanted? To take advantage of your students?” Ran chuckles as he continues his assault, breathing heavily as well as a few moans slipping.

Sanzu, with the phone still recording in his hand, walks closer to get a better angle of the view, biting his lip as he ignores the tightness in his pants. Observing the distressed yet aroused woman as her body rocks from the contact with the younger men. He’s already gotten enough footage to show the dean if needed, but he decided to continue recording for their own personal endeavors.

“You look like you were made for this.” He states, as he watches her mouth engulfed with cock and saliva mixed with semen, her pussy full and thighs shaking as Ran squeezes her hips.

“I’m gonna cum.” Rin hissed as he thrusts harder, releasing after the last two. Ran follows not long after as he pressed against her g-spot, the pressure causing her to come undone all over his cock. Finally, Sanzu ends the video as they all get up, leaving her on the desk.

“You better get ready for your class, Y/n.” Sanzu says before they readjust their pants and walk out. Ran stops before he leaves, turning to face her.

“Change my grade while you’re at it, yeah?” He then walks out. She lays there breathing hard as she slowly pushes herself off the desk, tears falling as she begins to sob.

“Fuck.” She whispers as she throws her sweater on and pulls down her skirt, walking to the bathroom to fix herself up and leave the building.

When she’s done washing her face and wiping down her legs, she walks to the teacher’s lounge, claiming to be sick and having thrown up so she can be excused for the day. Succeeding she reaches her car, immediately going on the grading system’s site through her phone and changing both of the Haitani’s grades without having to touch Sanzu’s considering his already high score. Her forehead leans against the wheel as she stares numbly into space, pulling back as she moves her gear shift stick to reverse out of the parking lot and head to her apartment.

After a few days of staying home, she decides to resign, too sick from the memories of the dreadful event that took place. She hides herself from the world as she scrubs her body till it's raw routinely, disgusted with herself as she stays in her room. Suddenly, she’s torn from her thoughts as she hears a knock at her door.

She walks from her bed and opens the door. She gasps before attempting to slam it back closed, a hand preventing it from shutting.

“You thought you could just leave?” The younger Haitani hissed as he stepped into her home, his older brother and friend walking in as well.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” She exclaims, angry at the audacity. Sanzu shuts and locks the door behind them as Ran shoves his hands into his pockets, staring amused at the reaction she’s giving.

“What do you want?” She growls as she moves, backing away from them while they glare at her like a predator stares at its prey.

“You’re not quitting.” He states.

“How is any of that your business? Get out! Matter of fact, how the hell did you find my apartment?”

“Not until you agree to get your job back. Tell them you made a mistake.”

“This literally makes no fucking sense! What is wrong with you? I changed your score, what is the problem now?”

“The problem is that you’re trying to run. When you were bent over that desk, you were claimed as our slut. You can’t go anywhere.” Sanzu responds with a stoic expression, her disbelieving how serious they’re being at the moment.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What, so you got a crush or something? News flash, I’m nobody’s. You got that video and you got what you wanted so get out of my house.” She responds angrily, crossing her arms as she grits her teeth.

“That’s alright, you look like you were made to be a star anyway.” Ran states as he smirks. She glares in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb Professor, I know you’re smarter than that.” Sanzu says, rolling his eyes as he takes a seat on her couch.

“Hey, get off of that you’re not welcomed here!” She turns to glare at all of them. “None of you are!”

“As I said, it’s alright.” Ran says as he holds up the phone, screen facing her as he posts it to a porn website. She cries out as she runs to grab it, failing as he steps out of the way.

“I think social media would respond great if we post it there.” Sanzu says as he leans back, crossing his leg.

“No! Stop! F-fucking…! Please, don’t do that and just delete it off of there.” She almost sobs as horrific scenarios of her family, friends, or anyone else she knows reacting to the video, including the dreadful thought of future jobs or even her old job completely shut off from her being able to apply.

“Go back to work, Y/n.” Rin says as he leans on the counter connected to the same wall as the door.

“F-fine, just please… Please delete that and don’t post anything else.” They glance at each other, Sanzu hopping from the couch as he walks over to her, hand placed on her head as he gives a peck to her forehead. She eyes them in fear and disgust as they stroll to the front door.

“We’ll be seeing you more often, professor. So, be prepared.” Rin says as he faces the doorway, exiting the building as the door slams shut.

[fyonahmacnally]

Hands On Experience (Kara's First Job)

Based on a tumblr post - read here.

It’s been a long week for all of them, even longer since they’ve all had a chance to unwind and relax in general, much less as a group. Between their regular jobs, their vigilante shifts, and just life in general, months have passed since their last girl’s night. Fortunately, tonight is the remedy to that problem. 

They’re all sitting around Lena’s living room, snacks, wine, and other spirits spread across the coffee table in front of them. Kelly, Alex, Nia, Sam, Andrea, Lena, and Kara are regaling each other with stories of their youth and the trouble they managed to get into. Hearing some of the stories from Andrea about a teenage Lena has everyone laughing and somewhat surprised. The normally straight-laced and stoic CEO was quite rebellious in her teen years. Who knew? Kara sure as hell didn’t. 

As the night continues, the alcohol flows freely and the conversations ebb and flow into different topics. Kara thinks they’ve finally ventured away from the stories of their younger years and she breathes a sigh of relief. She never really did anything rebellious, she has always been more of a good girl, a rule follower. She couldn’t really get into trouble while trying to hide her identity. The two weren’t compatible.

But…not many people know about her first job. The one she got right after graduating college to pay for her first apartment in National City. It’s not something she tells many people. Especially since it came about by accident. She’s not ashamed of it, she’s just not sure how people will react to it. The times it has come out in conversations, reactions have been mixed. Plus, she sighs internally, if Alex is around, she always pushes her to tell The Story™ about the break-in. It isn’t something she likes to share.

Again, not because she is ashamed, it’s just that the way she got the job comes up and okay, that part is embarrassing. People usually laugh, tease her about it. And okay, she can see how it might be objectively funny, but she just…whatever. She’s a grown ass woman now. 

Still, she doesn’t want to tell The Story™ in front of Sam, Andrea, and Lena. She already gets teased by Alex about it and she knows Sam and Andrea won’t let her live it down. And Lena, Rao. They’ve been dating for a few months now and have had sex so they’ve discussed things. Kara knows Lena was a little surprised when she brought so much knowledge to those conversations, but she’s never asked about it.

In fact, of all the people currently sitting in this room, Alex is the only one who knows The Story™. Maybe Kelly because they talk about everything, but yeah. It’s not a story anyone else in the room knows and Kara wants to keep it that way. She’s managed it for years, maybe her luck will continue.

Just as she begins to relax, thinking she has managed to dodge the story and keep her secret for another day, she hears her name. When she shakes herself from her inner dialogue, six pairs of eyes are on her. 

“What?” Kara asks, looking from face to face before her eyes land on her sister. Her shoulders sink. She knows that look, that’s The Story™ look. Fuck. She is not going to be able to escape it, but she has to try. “Did I miss something?” 

Alex grins, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “We were just talking about our first full-time jobs. Andrea was under the impression that working for CatCo is the only full-time job you’ve ever had.” She tilts her head and smirks at her now nervous sister. “I corrected her, but that story is so much better when it comes from you. Care to share, Kara?” 

She sighs and drops her chin to her chest, this isn’t what she had in mind when she requested a Girl’s Night with her friends. Not even close. To be fair, she’s a little shocked Alex hasn’t somehow forced this story out before now. She is also definitely not drunk enough for this conversation either, so she makes a decision.

Kara bolts up from her seat, glass in hand. “If I am telling The Story™ I need more alcohol.” She sends pleading eyes to her girlfriend before turning to make a quick exit to the kitchen, Lena following close behind.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice, full of concern, breaks the silence. She walks around the island to stand next to her unusually quiet girlfriend. “Are you okay, Darling? If you want me to kick everyone out for the evening, I will. I can have Frank take everyone home.” She smoothes the now prominent crinkle between the blonde’s eyes, waiting for a response.

“No, it’s fine. This was bound to come up in conversation eventually. Honestly, I just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.” She lets out a long sigh before burying her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her comforting lavender scent.

Lena wraps her arms around her favorite person, placing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling her close. “You know, I always assumed CatCo was your first job too. We’ve never really talked about it.” She feels Kara pull away with a slight grimace on her face. Their eyes meet and Lena raises a brow at the Kryptonian.

Kara shrugs. “It’s what most people assume. I just don’t correct them.” She chuckles as she pulls the Aldebaran rum from the cabinet and pours a very full glass. Taking a big gulp, she winces at the slow burn moving down her throat. “I suppose I should get this over with, huh? Let everyone get their laughter and teasing quota in for the evening.”

Green eyes watch her curiously, taking in this peculiar behavior from the blonde. She’s seen Kara wary of things, but she’s not sure she’s ever seen her like this. It isn’t apprehension, it seems to be more like resignation, but she’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Kara, you don’t have to tell anyone anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can put a stop to it. Just say the word.” Lena says, a fiery determination on her face. 

A warm bubble of affection bursts in Kara’s chest before genuine laughter escapes her mouth. She smiles and kisses the dark-haired woman right on the enticing pout in front of her. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s an objectively funny story, just a little embarrassing. Besides, I’m also curious as to how you will react.” She waggles her brows and places one more soft kiss to Lena’s lips before dragging them both back to the rest of their friends.

The blonde takes a deep breath and reclaims her seat on the couch, Lena’s warm presence next to her and the warmth of the alien liquor in her system finally giving her the courage to expose her current biggest secret.

“My first job was at a sex shop called Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.” She pauses for what she knows will be gasps of disbelief, glancing around the room at the faces of some of her closest friends. True to her assumptions, most of the eyes staring back at her are wide and disbelieving. The only exceptions are Alex, Kelly, and surprisingly, Nia.

Nia tilts her head to the side and takes a sip of her drink before she leans forward, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, there are several things that make a lot more sense now.” The brunette giggles. “When I came to you about that article I wrote a couple of years ago about spicing up things in the bedroom, you knew way more than I expected you to. Now I know why!”

Kara sighs in exasperation. “I’m not nearly as innocent as everyone seems to think I am!” She scoffs, cutting her eyes at her sister in anticipation of what’s coming.

Alex lets out a really loud guffaw, her laughter jostling Kelly and making the rest of the group snap their eyes toward the redhead. “Oh Kara…my dear sweet sister. We all know you aren’t so innocent now, especially since dating Lena, I’m sure.” She smirks at the raven haired woman next to her, chuckling at the middle finger flipped in her direction. “But, please enlighten our friends on how you got that job.” She sips her scotch before leaning back into the cushion, snuggling into her wife’s side.

If looks could kill, Alex would be dead. She’s sure of it. The look she’s getting from Kara is filled with malice and daggers. She just smiles and winks at the blonde. Her mind is at peace, watching Lena absorb this story is worth every bit of ire from her sister. So, she relaxes and waits. Her part of the story will be here soon enough. 

After looking around the room at her friends one more time and get a reassuring squeeze from her girlfriend, Kara begins her tale:

“I was looking online for jobs. I had just graduated from NCU and gotten my first apartment. At that point, I was applying for almost anything because I just needed something to pay rent. I came across this ad for retail sales at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets and thought, why not? How hard can it be to sell toys and trinkets?”

She pauses her story to take a drink of liquid courage, noticing the half smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Shaking her head, she continues:

“A few days later, I got a call from the manager of the store to come in for an interview. The instructions were to go to the back door of the building so I didn’t know what kind of things were being sold until later. I genuinely thought it was toys and trinkets…you know, like a Schwartz toy store.”

The uproarious laughter at that statement yanked her out of her story and she covered her face with a grumble. Lifting her face, she glares at her sister before turning to the rest of the group. “Look, if you guys want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to stop interrupting me. This is serious!” She harumphs and crosses her arms, making the group laugh even harder.  She rolls her eyes and sits silently, waiting.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, let her finish.” Sam chimes in, wiping the tears of laughter from her face before settling back in next to Andrea. The couple share a soft smile before returning their attention to Kara.

“Are you sure you’re done?” She flicks her eyes between everyone before dropping them back onto her hands actively twisting in her lap. “Anyway, I went in for the interview…”

“I opened the back door and stepped inside to what seemed to be a storeroom. It looked pretty normal. Boxes, shelves, labels, nothing to indicate anything outside of the toy store I imagined. The manager, John, came out to greet me and took me into his office for the interview. 

Now, what happens next was a little odd to me at the time and looking back it was obvious, but I was 21 and still not used to Earth’s customs so I just rolled with it. John brought out this…apparatus that was a very lifelike replica of a bare bottom.”

Kara growls as another round of belly laughs interrupts her telling of The Story™. This time she doesn’t say anything. She sits, silently waiting for the laughter to subside. Once it is quiet again, she makes eye contact with each of them trying to convey her frustration.

“Alright. Let’s get ourselves together and listen.” Lena clears her throat, quickly wiping away her own tears of laughter before she continues. “Go ahead, Darling. Finish your story, we’ll do our best not to interrupt you again.” Green eyes glare at the rest of the group before gently squeezing Kara’s leg in encouragement.

She sighs, throws her head back and stares at the ceiling before finally continuing, hopefully finishing this time.

“John had me…spank the bare bottom several times. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, but later he told me that I kept my composure better than anyone else before me. I realize now it was because people probably laugh their asses off. For me it was pretty confusing because I assumed it was for some lifelike doll…which, looking back, I suppose it was.”

She laughs at her younger self. In hindsight, this story is pretty damn funny. If it were one of her friends, she’d probably be laughing hysterically as well. This line of thought seems to release something inside her and she smiles. The rest of the story should be easy.

“At this point, I still didn’t realize that it was a sex shop. I hadn’t seen the store and nothing about the storeroom indicated otherwise. Granted, I should have realized that spanking a prosthetic ass was a dead giveaway, but I’m an alien for Rao’s sake. I’d never seen anything like that in my entire life!

So, you can imagine, on my first day when I walked into the store, I was shocked. It was wall-to-wall dicks, vibrators, and all sorts of contraptions I didn’t know existed. Most of the day was spent with some shade of rosy embarrassment from head to toe. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run right out of there, I needed the job so I stuck it out. I learned a lot about sex and people in those two years I worked there.”

She grins at her friends, pausing briefly to wink at Lena. “Now, the really crazy part of my time working there happens about six months before I started working at CatCo…” Kara briefly glances at Alex before continuing her story.

“It was a Friday morning. We didn’t typically open until noon because the weekends were our busiest days with the latest hours. By this time, I was the assistant manager at the store so it wasn’t uncommon for me to open the store or close up at night. John and I had become friends at this point too so work was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, he had to drive up to our distribution center to sort out a shipment that had gotten delayed and left me in charge. 

Since we opened at noon, I would usually get there around 10:45 to get things ready. However, on this particular day, one of our alarms was triggered. I got a call from the security company that an internal motion sensor was activated. It was shocking because we had very good security and had never had an issue. After telling them to call the police, I headed to the store.

Now, in order to understand the story, I need to tell you the layout of the store. Upstairs was where most of the really risque, more fetish and BDSM stuff was kept. No one was allowed up there without a member of the staff accompanying them. The bottom floor was where most customers stayed.

The layout of the first floor consisted of five zones. Imagine it from left to right. Zone 1 was all the porn DVD’s. Zone 2 was all of our lower end sex toys, all the more tame offerings in the lower price ranges. Zone 3 was the higher end sex toys and more…advanced offerings. It was where the realistic asses were kept.”

She smiles and looks around at her friends, once again winking at her girlfriend. They are all grinning and seem to be amused by her story. Taking a sip of her rum, she sits her glass down, presses a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek and keeps going.

“Zone 4 was the checkout where we spent most of our shift. And finally, Zone 5 was all the wearables - we called it the ‘lingerie, leather, and lace’ section. Each section had a camera directly focused on it as well as various other cameras throughout the store. There were motion sensors that were active when the store was armed and alarms on all the doors. Another bonus is that we weren’t far from one of the local police precincts.

To say that John and I were shocked about the break-in is an understatement. In the 18 months I had been there, we hadn’t had any issues and John said he’d never had any in the 3 years he’d been there before me. This thief was very savvy. They broke one of the windows on the lower level close to the lower end toys in Zone 2. For some reason, the alarms were only set to go off if the upper windows were breached and not these. 

When the thief got in, they pretty much had the run of the store as long as they stayed clear of the motion sensors. Based on what I saw when I got there to meet the cops, the thief was initially after the DVD’s. Unfortunately for them, we keep the discs in a locked cabinet behind the checkout so the cases on the display are all empty.”

Kara chuckles and glances over at Alex, both of them have an amused twinkle in their eyes. She smiles at her sister and proceeds.

“The crook was clever, they were wearing a full bodysuit to cover their face and all their skin so their identity was well masked. When we watched the security footage back, it was evident that when the thief couldn’t get the DVD’s they decided to randomly grab whatever they could. However, instead of going for the high end toys and wearables, the sports car equivalent of goods for sexual pleasure, they stuffed as many of the cheapest, flimsiest dildos, foulest bottles of lube, and random edible things into their backpack. They did all that without triggering any alarms too. It wasn’t until they were climbing out of the broken window that they nicked one of the motion sensors on some of the more expensive products and kicked off the alarms. 

Once that alarm was triggered, I got the phone call and dispatched the police. By the time I got to the store, the woman my sister was dating at the time, who was a detective at the precinct up the street, was there waiting for me. Maggie and I were working through what was taken and documenting all the goods stolen. I still laugh about how many times Maggie had to write the words dildo, edible underwear, and lube in that report. 

What I didn’t know at the time was Maggie texted Alex to let her know the store had been broken into and Alex was making her way there to check on me. Maggie and I had been there for about 30 minutes before we heard a commotion outside the door.” 

She grins widely and nods her head at Alex, giving her permission to take over the telling of the story.

“I love telling this part of the story.” Alex beams, placing her empty tumbler on the table in front of her and leaning forward on the couch. The redhead claps her hands together as she dives into her part of the story. 

“I parked at a restaurant a block or so away. We went there a lot so I knew the owner and I figured we could grab some lunch once everything was squared away. As I was walking toward the scene, I saw this guy running toward me like a madman. There are things flying out of his backpack and he seems like he’s running from something. I pause for a minute and step to the side, not wanting to get taken out by the guy. 

That’s when I realized he was leaving a trail of dildos, lube, and edible underwear in his wake. It was like a tsunami of cheap sex aids covering the sidewalk around us. I had already grabbed my badge so I just called out for him to stop and flashed it up at him. Within seconds, the guy was on his knees in front of me, his palms up and sobbing out ‘It was MeEeEnnE!!! I stole the diLDoS!!!’”

The entire room erupts into laughter. There isn’t a dry eye in the entire place. It’s how this story always ends…lots of laughter and disbelief. When it all eventually dies down, Kara notices that Lena has gotten very quiet and she has a contemplative look on her face. Her plump bottom lip is trapped between her pristine white teeth and there is a faraway look in her malachite eyes.

Nia is the first to speak, pulling them all out of their brief silence. “Okay, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that you worked at a sex shop before, Kara. This is pertinent information that you’ve been holding back!” She scoffs at her friend. “Also, that was the dumbest thief I’ve ever heard of. He took all the cheapest shit you had instead of the good shit. And…there’s a 24 hour coffee shop right next door to Cherry Poppins! He could have stayed there until the coast was clear and made off with his stash. What. An. Idiot.”

“Seriously! That’s where Drea and I usually go after our Poppins shopping trips.” Sam chimes in, shaking her head in disbelief before catching what she just revealed. She quickly clears her throat and changes the subject. “You’ve been holding out, Kara. You could have given us recommendations! You probably know more about this stuff than Lena does.” She smirks at her friend before looking at Andrea with a wink.

Andrea grins. “Yeah, Lena has been our go-to all this time and you’re the actual hidden expert sitting right in front of us.” The brunette looks over to her childhood friend and laughs. She nudges Sam and whispers, “She’s having some thoughts right now, connecting some things.”

They both giggle and watch as Lena’s hand drifts up to her still captured bottom lip, brushing lightly back and forth against the soft skin. Her green eyes are still glassy and staring past the room currently occupied. Right as they are about to say something, Lena speaks.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been holding out on me?!” Lena’s voice comes out far more breathy and deeper than she wanted. Her eyes suddenly focus intently on Kara’s. “Wait! This makes so much more sense now. This is why you know so much about the…”

“NO!!!” Alex screeches. “Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence. Lena. Luthor.” She points a menacing finger in the direction of her friend, her sister’s girlfriend. 

The rest of the room laughs, but all of them notice the look of wanton desire on the CEO’s face, the way she is not so subtly devouring Kara with her eyes. It slowly becomes evident that they need to get out of this apartment before they see something they can’t ever forget. 

Lena slowly moves her gaze from Kara over to Alex before a devilish smirk plays across her lips. “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, Agent Danvers.” She languidly licks her lips and lets her eyes track down Kara’s body again before looking back at the rest of their friends. “All of you should probably call it a night. I have some things to talk to my girlfriend about and we don’t need an audience.”

She pauses for a moment, quirks her brow, and looks directly into cerulean eyes with a smirk. “Unless you’re into that? Seems there’s quite a few things I don’t know about you…yet.”

“Yep, Yes! Okay.” Alex says, bolting up from the couch. “I think it’s definitely time to go.” She grabs Kelly’s hand to pull her off the couch and is quickly followed by Nia. The three of them grab their belongings and dash toward the door.

“Just leave everything, we will clean up tomorrow. Frank is waiting downstairs to see you home.” Lena smiles, her eyes drifting over to the remaining two people occupying the adjacent oversized chair. “That’s your queue to make your way down to the guest apartment. Don’t worry, the penthouse is sound proof so you won’t hear anything.” 

Andrea and Sam both laugh. Having known Lena the longest, they are familiar with her antics. They both roll their eyes as they stand and gather their things to head to the floor below and the apartment they are staying in while visiting National City. 

“I would say have fun tonight, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Sam winks, pulling her girlfriend toward the door. “We’ll see you guys for brunch tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind them, Lena turns and straddles Kara’s lap. As her lips hover just above the blonde’s, she rubs her nose against her girlfriends and takes a deep breath. “I think we have some things to discuss, Miss Danvers.” Kara grins and lifts them from the couch, drifting toward the bedroom. “You’ve certainly been holding out on me and surely you have things to show me.”

And that’s how Lena found out Kara once worked at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

seven degrees east - chapter four

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairings: multiple Rating: T (may change) Chapter: 4 / ? Word Count: 4645

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For most who were permitted entry, the Thorpe Abbotts grad pub was a useful spot to continue any promising discussions begun in class, bitch about grading undergraduate essays, and—thanks to the student discount offered by this campus establishment—get pre-trivia night tipsy on a higher quality of beer than they normally drank. The pub was called the Barracks because of the airfield that had stood on the spot decades before. Though the chairs were hard and the laminated page ambitiously headed “signature cocktails” likely hadn’t changed since the ’80s, the university’s graduate students considered it a nice place to hang out. The Barracks’ quirks made it all the homier. And nobody ordered the cocktails anyway.

It was larger than most of the pubs the boys would have packed themselves into on a Friday night, and continued to feel spacious even when a popular local band played the low stage situated at one end or the once-a-month karaoke event packed the place with unusual customers. (These were mostly fearless female students from departments that scared the boys shitless, like medical biophysics and actuarial science. Curt had once gleefully disappeared into the thick hedge ringing the pub’s patio with one such woman after discovering his shot-in-the-dark conversation topic of the possibility of animal cloning had legs.)

On an average, unspecial day, the Barracks had its particular draw for each of the boys. Gale liked it as a place to sit and nod, resting while others spoke. Rosie liked to do the speaking. For Bubbles, its pub fare was an oasis on Crosby’s nights to cook—for Crosby, it was the simple pleasure of an actual place where an actual bartender knew his name (after he summoned the nerve to inform the man that his name was Harry, not Henry). At the Barracks, Nash did what Nash did anywhere: trawled for a date to the movies. John—kinetic creature that he was—would throw darts with his eyes closed and dig out ancient board games whose missing pieces (“Yes, you can use that rook as a Battleship peg, Buck! Go! Your turn!”) were no impediment to his will to play anything and everything.

Curt loved the Barracks for another reason. Below the dusty TV usually tuned to show music videos, the news, or a match of whatever sport the academics got overly invested in that week as an excuse to put off writing an essay or studying for an exam, there was a PlayStation. Due to its locale, it had suffered some abuse, but it was reliable enough to get Curt through several levels of Air Combat. This left him feeling triumphant and allowed him to pat himself on the back for tearing his eyes away from the smaller screen of the Game Boy he had in his dorm.

“C’mon, Lieutenant,” he coached himself, leaning his whole body as he steered his fighter jet away from enemy fire. “Fly like an angel, don’t die like one.”

The pep talk didn’t work, and when his plane was destroyed, Curt sighed and set the controller on his knee in defeat. It slid off and clattered to the floor. He stared at it for several seconds before scooping it up and putting it back on the battered cabinet upon which the TV rested.

“Rough day to be a pilot,” he said, sagging into a different seat as he joined Jack Kidd at the bar.

“Yeah,” Kidd commiserated. Then, “Huh?”

“Aw, never mind. How’s the dissertation goin’?”

Predictably, Kidd groaned. Curt winced sympathetically.

“Next one’s on me, bud,” he promised, giving Kidd’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

“It’s actually going…” Kidd tried again as his face attempted a more hopeful expression. “…fine.”

“That good, huh?”

“I’m not behind. Well, I am, but not catastrophically. Well… You know what? You’ll see. Enjoy your innocence, Curt.”

Curt didn’t know exactly what to do with this troubling speech—or with being called innocent, which he wasn’t sure he’d ever been called. He decided he would give Kidd the gift of silent companionship. In between sips of his beer, he held the edge of the bar and twisted back and forth on his stool. This didn’t appear to bother Kidd, who seemed to be lost in his own mind for a while.

Eventually, he said, “I think I need a hobby.”

“A hobby,” Curt repeated. “Ok, that sounds like a good idea. Whaddya like?”

Very seriously, Kidd replied, “Reading.”

Curt kneaded his forehead and tried not to make the noise Kidd made when anyone brought up his dissertation.

“No. You gotta do something that’s nothing like the thing you’re working on,” he counselled with an emphatic slashing gesture. “Like, me? For instance? Last summer, I drove out to Rhode Island, right?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

Curt sighed.

“Guy, wait. I’m tellin’ you a story. I drove out to Rhode Island because I heard about this big skateboarding competition—the X Games. So, I’m watchin’ Tony Hawk, in person, doin’ all these flips and shit—”

“Yeah?”

“—and I’m like…” Curt spread his hands, a grin splitting his face. “…I could fuckin’ do that.”

Kidd’s expression went flat.

“Right. And now you’ve given up academia to pursue your dream of being a professional skateboarder,” he said sarcastically. “Mega inspirational. Thanks, Biddick.”

Curt leaned his elbows on the bar and shrugged.

“Well, no. But I bought a board, and I’m tryin’ to learn. Gets me outta my head, you know?”

“Hey, you know another way you can get what’s in your head out? Skateboarding accident. I hope you wear a helmet.”

“Hot tip. Thanks, Dad. I’m just tryin’ to help you overcome that fuckin’ fight-or-flight response you get whenever somebody says the D-word.”

“Dad?”

“Dissertation.”

Kidd’s nose scrunched in aversion. Curt was surprised he didn’t shrink back more dramatically, a vampire confronted with a cross, but maybe the fact that he’d already said the word once had desensitized Kidd a little.

“I guess I feel a bit better,” Kidd said. “Being annoyed at you is kinda cleansing.”

Curt raised his glass to toast that sentiment.

“You’re welcome.” He had a swallow. “You comin’ to trivia later? New hobby?”

“My being smarter than you isn’t a hobby, just a fact. But, yeah; I’ll come.”

“Awesome. We’ve been lookin’ for a new teammate who’s an expert on havin’ a stick up their ass.”

Kidd glared at Curt, but the remark provided him with the impetus he needed to hop off his stool and storm out of the Barracks, curtailing his afternoon of procrastination. Curt chuckled into his glass until he realized he’d been left to pay the bill.

—

Trivia night at the Barracks was a joyful confusion of noise that only clarified on the chorus of “Sweet Caroline,” the handful of patrons close enough to a speaker conducting the room with air-punches timed to each “BUP BUP BUH!” Though less busy than it was in fall and winter, the bar was still close to bursting. Windows and doors had been propped open to allow the sound to spill out into the warm summer evening. Free chairs were scarce, so all around the bar, friends crammed into booths and sat on each other’s laps.

The atmosphere was both competitive and full of low expectations; there were never enough questions in the category someone knew a lot about to enable them to perform well overall. This meant any feelings of despondency were, at least, short-lived. By nature of their discipline, the literature boys had a small chip on their collective scholastic shoulder. They were mainly let down by always going into trivia night expecting to do better than they inevitably did, trusting the novels they’d read to provide a sufficient foundation on topics like religion and politics and geology. Sometimes they lucked out, and sometimes they absorbed a stray grad student from another discipline into their team. Often, they cursed the very authors they had venerated only hours before. And they cursed Bubbles, who would give away literature answers to anyone who asked. (“That’s the one thing we know!” Crosby lamented, head in hands.)

Mostly, the night was about pooling information the way they would pool change for a cab, picking through the pocket lint and the gum wrappers to find the coins. Gale knew all the parts of a radio. Rosie could confidently name five Janet Jackson hits. Nash surprised the entire table with his knowledge of African rivers, inspiring John to take spontaneous hold of his head with both hands and plant a benedictory kiss on his forehead, not seeing the shockwave of hurt that momentarily dislodged Gale’s careful public mask. When Curt slung an arm around the back of Gale’s neck the next time they were all bent over their answer paper, Gale found it was easy to settle into the contact. He laughed when Curt told him he smelled good.

When they had lost, and they were trashed, and it was not yet 10pm, they considered how they might extend their evening. They had handed in their short essays for Professor Harding’s class that morning, which increased their sense that they should be celebrating; another paper down, only the final essay to go, and then the summer class was over and they would have some time to dick around before fall semester began. Everything seemed good and big and possible as they tumbled from the Barracks’ interior onto the patio.

It began as a whisper, and then they were all looking at and teasing Rosie as he blushed about the girl he’d met at the video store.

“You should call her,” Nash suggested, grinning. “You got her number, right?”

Rosie nodded.

“Well, go back to your room and get it!” Bubbles urged. “We’ll wait right here!”

There was a short bank of payphones against the brick wall, just beyond the bounds of the patio, and Rosie glanced at them before looking again to Bubbles.

“Call from here? You wanna hear me crash and burn?”

“Not at all, Rosie,” Gale assured him, eyes sparkling with playfulness and intoxication. “We wanna learn how it’s done.”

As they cheered him on, Crosby shoved Rosie gently in the direction of their dorms, but Rosie rolled out of the push. He held up his hands, smirking.

“I don’t need to go get her number.” He tapped his temple. “Right here, boys.”

“You memorized it?” Curt interpreted with a laugh.

“That is adorable,” John pronounced. He trailed Rosie to a payphone—they all did—and massaged his shoulders like a prize fighter’s while Rosie dug change from his pocket. When Rosie shook him off, smiling, John stepped back and crossed his arms as he joined the semi-circle the boys had made around the payphones.

Rosie dropped the coins through the slot, then took a deep breath and lifted the plastic receiver to his ear. He turned to the boys.

“It’s ringing,” he hissed.

And they all saw the moment she answered: Rosie’s hand clutched tighter around the receiver, his eyebrows shot up, and his gaze darted up towards the lately-appeared stars in relief, then down to the patio stones between his shoes as he focused in on her voice.

“Hi, Liss. It’s Robert Rosenthal calling.” He swatted his hand at Curt, who was pretending to look impressed as he mouthed “Robert” at Gale. They couldn’t remember him ever going by his first name; he was always Rosie to them. “From— You do? Ok, good.”

They took the side of the conversation they were hearing to mean that this was the girl from the store, that she hadn’t given Rosie a fake number, and that she’d known who he was right away. A very good sign. The boys monkey-barred between Rosie’s “uh huh” and “mhmm”s, his noises of agreement as he listened to Liss, and they watched him smile and smile into the receiver’s mouthpiece. Eventually, Rosie and Liss had talked so long that he had to feed more change into the payphone. They peeled off to sit at a nearby table. Gale watched Rosie, and he watched John—shoulder-to-shoulder with Nash. When Curt rose to go back inside and find a bathroom, Gale went too.

“Well, yeah,” Rosie was saying to Liss, running a fingernail down the metal ridges of the payphone cord. “I was hoping you’d call too. I mean, that I’d call you. You gave me your number.”

On the other end of the line, Liss laughed.

“I did,” she said. “Are you a little bit drunk right now, Robert?”

Rosie felt the flush in his cheeks deepen.

“A little. You don’t have to call me ‘Robert.’”

“That’s what you told me your name was,” Liss reminded him, amused. “What do you go by? Rob? Robbie? Please don’t say Bert. I probably could learn to separate that name from Sesame Street, but I don’t want to.”

“Most people call me ‘Rosie.’ I introduced myself as Robert because I… you…” he stammered, then laughed at himself. Because the second we locked eyes, I didn’t know if I was coming or going, he was trying to say.

“I get it.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, relieved.

“Yeah.”

Her straightforwardness terrified and reassured him—and not much could do either. It didn’t make his heart beat any slower though. That Poesque organ was pounding in his chest, making itself known. He felt like he’d been seen when he hadn’t even realized he’d made himself visible. In this way, it seemed to Rosie that love was a terrifying game of laser tag. He hadn’t used the word “love” out loud—not to the boys, certainly not over the phone to Liss—but Rosie was possessed of a quiet certainty that love was happening to him, completely unexpected.

“It was trivia night here,” he told Liss, when someone used the rear exit of the Barracks and a swell of sound escaped as the door was pushed wider. “You should come sometime.”

“That sounds like fun,” she said.

He wished she were there already. Had he not been drunk, he knew he would’ve been driving to meet up with her. He recalled Curt’s early attempts on his skateboard, how Curt had said that what you had to do before anything else was find your center of gravity so you could keep your balance. Rosie believed that was what he was experiencing: he’d found his center of gravity. It felt to him as though he was suddenly aligned with a force of considerable magnitude. A powerful feeling—and yet he grinned into the phone like a kid.

Meanwhile, the boys had decided it was worth getting another round, since Rosie was taking an unexpectedly long time on the phone. Bubbles offered to go back into the bar. John accompanied him. They wove between tables and joined the end of the line. Bubbles didn’t seem to mind waiting, but after John had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tapped his foot for about thirty seconds, scanning the busy bar, he felt too antsy to keep standing there.

“I’m gonna go look for Curt and Buck,” he informed Bubbles, raising his voice to be heard though they were beside each other. “That alright?”

“Ok! You know where I’ll be!”

John nodded and twitched his mouth in something that wasn’t quite a smile. He slipped away through the Barracks’ front doors. This didn’t put him outside. The Barracks, though a pub, was a university establishment, connected to campus via more than its patrons; it was located in the back of the Philosophy building. The front door exit dumped John into a distinctly institutional corridor, from the sickly pastel paint on the walls to the rectangular lights littered with the shadows of trapped flies overhead. He strolled down the hall, letting the sound of the bar lessen and blur. The bathrooms were way at the end, past the water fountains.

He didn’t see Curt and Gale standing by the bathrooms, and he hadn’t really expected to. There was nothing to do in this hallway. John’s plan was to walk to the end then turn and continue on to the entrance hall. He figured the boys were probably outside, smoking on the front steps. Maybe getting a little high. That would have explained why they’d taken so long to come back to the group. They’d probably lost track of time.

John was smiling as he pictured this, coming upon the two of them with their brows furrowed, spliffs pinched between the fingers they pointed emphatically at one another as they said the dumbest shit they’d ever said in their lives. Yeah, he’d take a hit too, then wrangle them, shoo ’em back to the patio. Casting his eyes into classrooms each time he passed a door with a window, John idly decided he would walk the boys around the outside of the building instead of backtracking. This hallway, he thought, killed the lively atmosphere of the Barracks. It was just too—

He stopped like someone had stopped him. Physically. He forgot how to walk or blink or breathe. It wasn’t until his jaw clenched that John remembered he had a body at all—it had all gone numb.

The ache of his teeth startled him back into himself. Reanimating, he hurried down the hall. He didn’t know if the bathroom was empty, only that the closest stall was. He slammed the door wide. It hit the wall with a bang, and, like a pair of dice, John threw himself to his knees on the cold tile floor. He hadn’t had that much to drink, but he braced his forearms on the toilet seat and retched into the bowl until he shook, until snot ran from his nose and tears from his eyes. When it was over—taking the immeasurable as-long-as-it-takes that time was unfairly doled out in when one was in the throes of being painfully ill in the liminal space of a (probably) empty men’s room at the end of a quiet hallway in a darkened Philosophy building on an interminable June night—John felt as hollow and contorted as a bendy straw. He wiped roughly at his mouth with the back of his hand before collapsing against the wall.

Finally, he reached up to shut the stall door, fumbling limply with the lock. It was too late and not the kind of protection he needed, but he wanted the illusion.

—

As in many places, the thing to do for fun in Casper, Wyoming as Gale had grown up had been to ride bikes all day long. The summers had been wide, Casper Mountain crumpled like a bedsheet on the southern horizon. Gale’s routine had involved picking up his bike from where he’d dumped it at the side door on his way in to dinner the previous evening and roaming in lazy loops—not the kind of reliable routes the mailman did, but Gale would’ve inevitably run into a friend who’d been doing the same thing. When there had been a few of them, they’d ridden towards the train station. His friends had always liked crisscrossing the tracks on the way, ducking under the lowering gate and laughing at the flashing red warning lights. Gale had done this too, his face marked with a cold determination the other kids didn’t really understand, the rest of them whooping and bumping their wheels across the tracks.

In the parking lot, they had chattered and loitered, leaning their bikes against the train station. Gale had stayed astride his, paying little attention to the others. With his shoes planted on the asphalt and his chin atop the arms he’d folded over his handlebars, he’d watched people arrive from Laramie and Denver and Salt Lake City. But before that, before the cars had disgorged their passengers, there had been the sound of the train pulling into the station. The screech. The low huffs, so alluring to Gale that that had been the sound to call him towards the tracks, rather than the jangling alarm at a crossing. He hadn’t given in—he’d known better—but he’d closed his eyes to better hear it breathe.

The huffs of Curt’s breathing took Gale back, but this time, the warm push of air was right there on his cheek. Their mouths moved together. Except for the breathing, Gale didn’t think Curt had ever been so quiet for so long.

It had been a lot of little things that week. Or not so little, only seeming small because it was as if Gale had viewed them through a telescope. Breaking up with Marge was one. Because she was so far away, that hadn’t made a big change to his life, but it felt like a long-attached tether was suddenly gone and he’d discovered a fuller range of motion. He hoped she would too. On top of that had been the in-class discussion of the woodchopper, and Curt’s mystery hickey last weekend, and Curt’s unembarrassed insistence that Gale read Giovanni’s Room, and Curt still by Gale’s side when John’s lips met Nash’s forehead. Gale didn’t want to date Curt, but he wanted to take a page from his metaphorical book and make out with somebody outside a bar without thinking too hard about it. In some half-examined corner of his self, he’d needed it, and Curt had been amenable, and then there they’d been.

Gale had been private with Marge too, so it hadn’t felt so different—after Gale had found himself looking at Curt with half-lidded eyes, Curt with his heated stare on Gale’s mouth—to step into a vacant classroom and close the door. That much was the same. And it was a surprise to Gale that kissing a man didn’t feel like Kissing a Man; it just felt like he was kissing Curt, as he had once kissed Marge. There was a zing of giddy lust without any deeper sense of romantic devotion, but Gale didn’t think that had anything to do with Curt not being a woman. They were friends—a little drunk, a little horny—who happened to be comfortable with each other. Which made it so easy for Gale to fist Curt’s t-shirt at the base of his neck as his pulse thundered through him like a departing train, and for Curt to go along with it.

Curt smiled at the parts of Gale now being revealed. This knowledge wouldn’t go anywhere, wouldn’t mean anything, and so it was fine to enjoy Gale’s uncompromising aggression. He had taken control so quickly and so thoroughly that it could almost have been his idea. Except Curt knew better. He knew every small opening he’d given Gale, a million ways to come close if he wanted that, never really believing that he did until their eyes had met in the bathroom mirror and Curt had watched Gale’s cheeks bloom a dark, velvety pink.

I thought there was Bucky, Curt thought, but Gale wasn’t hesitating, kissing him roughly over and over, so Curt didn’t ask.

In a while, they went outside and found the boys where they had left them. Only John was absent. Curt slid into one of the benches and Gale sat on the edge of the table. It didn’t seem like anybody’d missed them; there were drinks on the table and some idiot had brought up the essays they’d submitted to Professor Harding, so everyone was talking about what they’d written, liberally badmouthing Thoreau as the font of all their grief. Gale didn’t want to think about schoolwork, but he didn’t want to attract everyone’s notice by demanding a new topic, so he sat quietly.

When John appeared, Gale straightened as though called to attention. John didn’t look well, somehow.

“What the hell, man?” Bubbles said to him, more confused than angry. “You never came back! I had to wave my arms until Croz saw me through the window and came to help me carry drinks!”

John just muttered, “Sorry,” and stood apart from their table.

“Everything ok?” Rosie asked.

John could tell he didn’t want to, that he was still enjoying the high of his phone call to Liss, and that John was bringing down the mood. But he couldn’t help it. He let his mouth stretch into an insincere, close-lipped smile and let out a quick, “Yep.”

Rosie watched him uneasily. The entire tableau had frozen: the perfect picture of a group of friends on a night at the bar. John stared at Rosie until he nodded slightly, understanding that something was definitely not ok, but that they weren’t going to talk about it. Talking about it was not a strong suit for either of them.

“We’re invited to a party,” Rosie said, now that everyone was there.

The news thawed the boys just enough; Rosie answered their questions. Next weekend. Yes, Nash, Helen would be there. Yes, she and Liss were roommates. Yes, all the boys were invited, but nobody had better make Rosie look bad or he would give them shit like they had never been given shit before. He was already looking forward to it, seeing the inside of a place that wasn’t just one of their regular haunts, though he intended no offence to the familiar. Rosie liked having something to come back to, but he liked having someplace to go.

They left the Barracks that night still talking about it, the dark sky twinkling far above Nash and Rosie’s excitement, and Crosby’s guilty yearning, and Curt’s contented libido. In the dorms, he tapped Gale’s elbow with his own before bounding down the hall towards his room. It wasn’t an invitation, just a farewell; he didn’t expect Gale to go from never having kissed a guy (he hadn’t said, but Curt assumed) to the whole enchilada in one night. There was no pressure. Curt didn’t think either of them wanted to turn a few minutes of messing around into anything more than that.

And Gale was aware that he should’ve felt relieved by how Curt left it, but he didn’t. He trailed John into their suite, full of unspoken dread.

“John,” he finally said, when the door was shut.

“What?”

But John was moving towards his bedroom, not even looking in Gale’s direction. Gale knew, he knew already, but it wasn’t enough. For some reason, he had to feel this too: what he knew he would feel when he looked John in the eye.

But John was a baby, and he wouldn’t allow it.

Gale sat tensely on the couch, waiting in case John emerged from his bedroom. He turned on the TV, tried to read. He chewed his lip until he couldn’t stand it and whipped The Portrait of a Lady across the room, angry at himself, angry at the soft crush of pages hitting the opposite wall. God fucking dammit, John! he wanted to yell. Gale was furious because it wasn’t right that he had done this thing—this rare, uninhibited thing, the huff, huff of Curt’s panted breath—that he told himself wasn’t about John at all and now John was punishing him by refusing eye contact. He wanted to make John look at him.

Gale had never intended for him, for anyone, to see. Part of what frustrated him was his own discomfort. He was trying not to let that sour what he and Curt had done. John wouldn’t care, Gale was certain, that he’d spied Gale kissing a man; he’d never known John to exhibit that kind of prejudice. But something was eating John, and if John had seen—and Gale harboured no doubts—then Gale wanted to read it in his eyes.

They read books, mostly. They found meaning. Gale wasn’t sure he could decide what this had meant for him until he learned from John’s eyes what it meant for them.

He waited another fifteen minutes, then he went to bed.

[commanderdazzle]

Unordinary Type

I was originally going to watch more Pedro Pascal stuff before getting attached to any character enough to write for them, but I watched Prospect first and Ezra stole my heart.

This is my first "x Reader" style story! So bear with me while I get used to the finer aspects such as which tense to use.

I know nothing about how nursing or emergency rooms work, everything about this is informed by my experience on morphine for the removal of an ovary that had necrotized due to a mega-cyst.

And credit to @morallyinept for the one stop shop for Ezra! I haven't used it too much yet but I wanted to acknowledge it anyway.

This is chapter one because I can't resist writing long, sweeping epics, and I might post it to Ao3 as well.

(Warning! Not only did Tumblr force me to break this in half to fit the character limit, it's also refusing to let me post the second half! Funsies!! I'll most definitely be posting this to Ao3 now, but it might take a day or two.)

You arrived to your late shift at the space stations medical bay to find it absolutely crawling with people. The place had never been packed like this before, wall-to-wall bodies in every direction, doctors and nurses scrambling to do their jobs amongst the throng. Curiosity getting the better of you, you flagged down your superior, but before the question could pass your lips, he preempted you, "evacuees from a gas leak on the lowest level. No one is severely injured, but we've been instructed to keep them here until the leak is patched." "We'll be out of beds in no time, most likely," you point out, and the man commiserates before assigning you to the team checking people in and guiding them to their rooms, a task you normally enjoyed. But the people displaced by the leak were heavily agitated, and you had to bite back many a scathing comment as you received unearned attitude about inconsequential things such as whether the room had windows. Who wants a window out into the vast coldness of space, anyway? As hours pass, the crowd begins to thin, but before you could finally breath a sigh of relief, a wave from a not-very-well-lit dead end hallway gets your attention. You've complained to maintenance about that light often, and you huff a little before brushing down the front of your pale gray scrubs and putting on your best nurturing smile. The smile falters slightly when you walk down the hall and see who it was that waved. You couldn't even hazard a guess as to the blonde girls age, but she had to have been in her teens. Based on the suit, you guessed she had just come back from a trip to the Green Moon, since this space station was the last stop on the way to the nearest urbanized planet. Behind the girl, a man in a similar yet somewhat more ragged suit was leaning against the wall, and you were momentarily shaken to find that he was missing his right arm, the left clutching at an injury to his side. Pretty sure this should have qualified as an emergency as soon as they arrived and wondering how long they had been waiting, you turn and signal one of your coworkers to find you a room with two beds before giving the duo your undivided attention. Less chipper than you would have liked, you give them your name before saying, "and I'm going to get you taken care of. Can I get your names, please?" The girl clearly didn't care for what she saw as fake comforting, and she looked to her companion before responding in a voice far more level than you expected, "we can't pay." "You can discuss that with our financial department later," you tried to be realistic and soothing at the same time, "for now, let me get your names so I can get you into a room." Still skeptical, the girl nods and says, "I'm Cee. He's Ezra." You start writing before she asks seriously, "can we get separate rooms?" Her companion laughs out loud at her request, and you try your best not to laugh back. "I'm sorry, we're down to two-person rooms at this point, but I can get you the really thick private dividers?" Nodding slowly and taking her struggling companion by the elbow, the girl follows you as you ask your coworker for the room number and fill out their paperwork with as much information as they're willing to give you. Which isn't a whole lot, justifying your suspicions that they must have come back from prospecting. It's dangerous business, to be sure, you remember your own father saying the last time you saw him, before going on a prospecting venture himself. A venture he never returned from, leaving you and your mother alone to pick up the pieces. Burying that back in your mind where it belonged, you keep asking questions, but your two patients aren't very forthcoming about their ages, places of birth, or how they got off the Green Moon in such terrible conditions.

(This turned out to be too long, so I'm splitting it up!)

[12thhouse-sun]

you came back with gravity

Chapter 2: i hate you for what you did and i miss you like a little kid (AO3)

Chapter 1 AO3, Tumblr

Gale x female!Tav

4.7k words

Mature

On one Waterdhavian spring day a chance encounter brings two old friends back together for the first time in almost ten years. Gale Dekarios is the last person Poppy wants to see but when confronted with his affliction, Poppy is forced to make a decision that will define both of them for the rest of their lives. – A Canon-Divergent AU where Gale still has the orb but the events of BG3 don’t happen.

Tags: Angst, Grief, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Discussions of Death, Discussions of Suicide

banner from @firefly-graphics

“What the fuck do you mean you’re staying with him? Taking care of him? That fucker doesn’t deserve even a second of your time why—”

The Sending cuts short at the word limit and Poppy restarts a new one with “Go on”, anticipating Holly’s barrage to continue and doesn’t want to interrupt her more than that.

“Fucking spell. Why are you even bothering? Let him fucking rot for all I care, for all you should care. Fucking piece of shit wizard—”

Casting another sending and another “go on,” she lets Holly rant until she’s done. Choosing her words carefully, Poppy finally responds. “Hols, you didn’t see him. Tara was desperate. I couldn’t leave him like that.”

“So where’s Morena? A godsdamned cleric? Literally anyone else. Come on, I thought you were the reasonable one out of the two of us.”

Poppy takes a steadying breath, trying to walk the line of what to tell Holly and what to keep from her but she can’t help her voice cracking at her response. “He’s dying, Hols. It’s too much for a Sending. I’m sorry. I’ll be back in Baldur’s Gate another time. I’ll write.”

“Fucking hells.” Silence. “You better. Love you. Talk soon.”

She drops her head into her hands, exhausted. Holly has always been fiery, the sun and spark to Poppy’s icy, grounded nature, which has admittedly been melting as of late. It took a tenday before she could pluck up the courage to Send her best friend, anticipating exactly what just occurred. Holly is right, she normally is the reasonable one: ice and stone and holding firm. But in this situation, Poppy is finding it hard to do just that. 

In these first few days, Gale moves around her like a skittish animal and Tara is constantly underfoot, battering Poppy with questions about her life and travels since they last saw each other. This is fine when Poppy is merely trying to settle in, but what makes this difficult is when it comes to tending to Gale. Just this morning the orb needed to be fed again and he didn’t tell her, not wanting to bother her. She told him off again, pleading with him to just accept her help, but he can be just as stubborn as her.

After using so much magic already today, she feels as though she needs another cup of coffee. Upon exiting her room, she finds Tara on the landing, giving her a look.

“Having fun listening?” Poppy needles tiredly. 

“I know this has not been easy for you, but your effort hasn’t gone unnoticed. Miss Smith will understand eventually. She is not entirely unreasonable once she calms down.”

Poppy can’t help but snort as she starts down the stairs, Tara joining her. “Does she ever?”

“Now I wouldn’t deign to comment on that, Miss Lyons, she is your friend after all.”

Poppy sighs. “Love you, Tara.”

“I love you, too.”

—

A month goes by, and things improve gradually. Every few days the orb gets hungry and so she feeds it, having to ensure she rations her magic so that it can be fed something suitable that day. On the occasional very bad day when feeding the orb doesn’t cause immediate relief in the other side effects, Poppy casts a Lesser Restoration over him which does seem to help. Gale is nothing but gracious but continues to shrink himself around her, never asking for spells to ease his pain even when she can tell he needs it.

Feeding the orb makes Gale more physically mobile but it doesn’t clear his mind. He’s spent a year locked in his tower with just Tara for intermittent company and thus has turned into himself. Poppy is fortunately or unfortunately familiar with the feeling; she is prone to bouts of melancholy herself, but navigating how Gale would prefer to be treated when like this is new for both of them. Poppy tries to offer assistance in any direct or indirect way, looking to distract, solve, or listen to whatever he needs, but the second she offers up even that kind of assistance Gale brushes her off, saying he can manage on his own. She gets it. But it’s hard. 

So she helps in other ways, food being one of them. She visits the markets a few times a week and becomes one with Gale’s kitchen, cooking up foods that will hopefully fill him out. That is, if he even eats. When he’s asleep (or pretending to when she walks in, hard to tell) she’ll leave him a bowl but it’ll be untouched come morning. To prevent this, Poppy has taken to getting him meals whenever he’s awake and eating with him. 

The first time she did it, he froze up and refused to look at her, but eventually did begin eating. And as the days went on, Poppy insists on eating with him at every meal, Gale finally taking the hint and eating whenever she arrives with food. It takes two tendays, but eventually he starts making his way down to the kitchen to eat whenever he can smell Poppy cooking.

Conversation comes more slowly. They don’t talk much during meals but one day Gale is curious to his core and actually asks Poppy about her recent travels, the shock of the moment making Poppy drop her spoon. It’s while she focuses on stumbling through an answer that she doesn’t notice how her heart soars at him opening up.

—

Poppy isn’t quite sure she trusts this fishmonger. That should be enough for her to ignore his wares but unfortunately he’s the only one selling littleneck clams today and she needs a quart of them for dinner. Combine that with the fact that she’s pretending to look like she knows what to look for in good clams has resulted in her standing at this stall for far too long. 

Just when she’s about to say “fuck it” and pick something else for dinner, she can grill Gale when she gets home on how to identify quality shellfish, she hears her name called out to her in a desperate and familiar voice.

Oh shit, Poppy thinks right as Morena Dekarios rushes up to her and pulls her into a suffocating hug. 

Poppy is ashamed to admit to herself that she had not forgotten to visit Morena in the few weeks she’s been in Waterdeep, but has in fact been purposefully avoiding her. That first day in the tower she had begged Tara to not tell Morena that she was even in town, let alone living with Gale, and the tressym reluctantly has been keeping her word. All that left Poppy to do was avoid Morena as best she could in the largest city on the Sword Coast.

Apparently Waterdeep isn’t big enough. Her and Gale had always joked that his mother was “inevitable” but it held more truth that one would think.

Morena shudders in her arms, overcome with emotion at seeing who is essentially the daughter she never had for the first time in years. Poppy doesn’t usually avoid Morena when she comes through Waterdeep, knowing that if Morena ever found she was there without visiting her, Poppy would be dead in a ditch less than a day later. But she tried to keep those past visits short as Morena would always push her about forgiving Gale.

It’s something that had always baffled Poppy; the only other person more upset than Poppy and Holly that he had missed her mother’s funeral was Morena, her mother’s best friend. While Poppy wasn’t there for it, she knows that Morena laid into him about it after the fact. But the baffling part is years later when Morena came to her to ask her if she would consider forgiving her son. That he’s truly sorry and that she hates seeing the both of them no longer on good terms. It always left a bad taste in Poppy’s mouth. 

And so it’s more than embarrassing to run into her when Poppy is clearly running errands as if she’s staying a while instead of just passing through.

“Gods, darling it’s been so long how are you? You’re looking so well–ah, are you staying a while?” she asks, gesturing to Poppy’s bags. 

Always gets right to it, Morena. It’s something Poppy always appreciated about her but right now she wishes she could misty step away and crawl into a hole.

“Yeah, I am. It’s great to see you, too.”

“Incredible! Tell me, where are you staying? You don’t need to rent a room, you know you can always stay with me, all the empty space I have and whatnot.”

Another gut punch. 

She braces herself. Poppy can’t lie to Morena. Can’t and won’t. Can’t, because Morena knows all of her tells–given that Poppy inherited them from her mother–and won’t because she can’t bear to. But not everything.

“I’m…staying with Gale,” she replies hesitantly. 

A wash of emotions spread over her face: shock, pain, excitement, grief. Grief that Poppy hasn’t seen on Morena’s face since her mother passed. Fuck.

“You’re staying with him? Tell me, is he alright? Please tell me what’s wrong with my baby boy.  I haven’t heard hide nor hair of him, Tara has been especially tight-lipped which is so unlike her—she kept you a secret, too! Oh, but you two have made up haven’t you? If you’re staying with him that must be true, oh that warms my heart but I wish I could just see him too…” 

The bombardment of questions overwhelms Poppy and so she guides Morena over to a spot between two stalls for a semblance of privacy. When Poppy looks back up at her once they’ve stopped she sees tears streaming down Morena’s face and her resolve shatters, her own tears falling freely now.

“I’m sorry, I—” Poppy takes Morena’s hands in her own and gathers herself. “We have made up.” Not a complete lie. “I’m helping him at the moment. I can’t say much more unfortunately, but I will be staying in Waterdeep for the foreseeable future. I’m so sorry I didn’t come see you sooner.” She feels so ashamed and afraid, like a child about to be scolded. Poppy loves Morena with her whole heart and she could have handled this better. Should have handled this better. Then she wouldn’t be crying with her in the middle of the Markets. 

Morena pulls her into another bracing hug and they cry together, the older woman rubbing soothing circles into Poppy’s back. She’s missed being comforted and being held and she drops her bags and clings to the back of Morena’s dress like a toddler.

After a few minutes they break apart, Morena handing her an extra handkerchief to dry her face. “You truly can tell me nothing more?”

Poppy can only plead another apology and hope it’s enough. 

“Well, what are you doing the rest of the day, my love? I’m out running errands myself and we can take a stroll together. Maybe take tea in the garden after? You can fill me in on all you’ve been up to.”

Poppy smiles a little at the thought, wiping her tears. “I’d love that. Actually, could you help me with something?” She pulls Morena over to the fishmonger whispering the questions she would have asked Gale once she returned to the tower.

Upon returning home hours later, Poppy drops all of her bags onto the kitchen table, feeling completely wrung out. The rest of the morning and early afternoon with Morena had truly been a pleasure but she had to continue dodging questions left and right about Gale, his mother doing everything she could to try and get even a smidgen of information out of her. In the end, Poppy held firm, but agreed to a weekly tea with her every Seventhday and the occasional market run together.

It’s at that moment that Gale pops into the kitchen, finding Poppy hunched over the table. “Oh! You’re back! Did you happen to acquire the—”

“I ran into your mother today,” she interrupts, wanting to get this over with.

That stops him short and he pales. “Oh?” he replies weakly.

“I didn’t lie to her. But I withheld so much and you know how much I fucking hate doing that to her.” She feels the tears coming on again, that feeling of being so very small. “She misses you. She wishes you’d at least write.”

“Poppy I can’t…”

“I know why you say you can’t I know! I know it hurts, it’s what I’ve felt all day today having to withhold from her. I did everything I could to not hurt her more at the reveal of your condition. Everything. I don’t know how Tara does it.” Gods, the tears. She turns her head away from Gale, scrunching her eyes closed and willing the tears to stop their assault. 

She hears Gale shuffle forward and lay a gentle hand on her back, the first touch he’s initiated between them since she’s lived there. Poppy recalls Morena’s hug from earlier and finds herself yearning for that comfort again, yearning for Gale of all people to wrap her in his arms and let her cry but she’s still so mad at him and both thoughts living together in her mind are so confusing.

“Your efforts are most appreciated, and if you’d like to leave I’d understand…”

“Gods, not that shit again, Gale,” she sniffs, wiping the snot off her nose with the handkerchief Morena gave her. Through her tears she looks to Gale and finds him looking bereft and ashamed. “For the last time, I’m not leaving you alone here—”

“I have Tara—”

“Who leaves for days at a time to find you magical items! That’s not a life to live. We’re managing it, Gale. You and I, together.”

“But this is hurting you, too and I will never forgive myself for hurting you again.”

The elephant in the room. They haven’t talked about it yet and she doesn’t want to now. All it’ll result in is her getting mad and him retreating into himself, anyway. 

“Gale, is your worry about me that much more painful than the long days you go in between items?”

“It’s what I deserve,” he states a little too resolutely for her liking.

“Fuck that, and fuck Mystra for all I care. Just because this is difficult it doesn’t mean I’m going to leave for fuck’s sake.”

Gale is quiet for a moment, taking in her words, still looking more than a little shame-faced. She can’t look at him, can’t be in the same room as him.

“I’ll get started on dinner shortly,” she says, turning to the bags on the table and focusing on putting them away and only that.

After a moment, she hears the shuffle of Gale exiting the kitchen and walking upstairs.

An hour later, everything is put away and dinner is ready. Poppy is anticipating another quiet and uncomfortable dinner tonight. Maybe she’ll grab a bottle of wine for herself later, to take her mind off everything. She would rather get high but has yet to find a reliable seller of halfling weed in the city, her old connection long moved on.

Bracing herself outside of his door, she takes a deep breath and enters his room, but Gale is nowhere to be seen. Not in his bed, or in the armchair by the window. She wonders if he’s up in his study when she sees that his ensuite bathroom is shut, which is only ever shut when it’s in use. Poppy sets his bowl on his bedside table and sits in the armchair, digging in. 

Minutes pass, and Poppy has finished her dinner, and Gale hasn’t appeared. Tired of waiting, she approaches the bathroom door and knocks. 

“Gale? Everything alright?” she calls. She presses her ears to the door and hears a quiet groan, not the usual kind you’d hear in a bathroom. “Gale?” she calls again, worried now.

He doesn’t respond. Poppy declares she’s coming in and casts Knock on the door, only to find Gale crumpled on the bathroom tile in his bathrobe, arm clutching his chest as the orb glows menacingly. She rushes to him, pulling his head in her lap and pouring her magic into the orb, begging for it to stabilize. It takes a few moments, but the orb finally quiets, and Poppy rests her hand on his chest above the orb, confirming that it is no longer roiling.

She feels movement against her other hand and craning her neck more she sees her other hand clutching Gale’s cheek, not remembering having done so. He looks up at her tired and pained. His eyes are too much for her so she looks elsewhere, inspecting his head for any sign of injury but finds nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, barely a whisper.

It’s a loaded apology. It is like Gale to apologize for things he doesn’t need to, like needing her help after a fall. But Poppy knows this is more than that, it’s an apology for something else and many other things all at once. She’s still so mad at him, but she also can’t bear to see him in pain, the conflicting emotions inside her making her nauseous. So she ignores it, focusing instead on helping him.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you?” she chokes out, struggling to keep her voice even.

“No, fortunately,” he whispers weakly. “Thank you, again. You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t mention it,” she forces out. “Your dinner’s in your room but it’s gone cold, I can reheat it for you if you’d like.”

Gale looks up at her and she anticipates the usual “oh don’t worry” or “you don’t have to” but he seems to catch himself, considering her. “That would be most appreciated. Thank you, Poppy.” He shakily raises one hand and places it on top of the one that holds his face, 

She smiles down at him, easier than expected given everything. “Come on, let’s get you on your feet.”

—

“Oh! There you are, I was—”

Poppy shushes him and beckons him over to where she kneels on the balcony. She’s currently ducked behind the railing and doesn’t want Gale to draw attention to her quarry.

Gale crouches next to her, wincing at his knees. Grabbing a cushion off the bench, she pulls it over for him to kneel on. 

“We’re going to be here a while,” she whispers conspiratorially. Grabbing the bottle of wine and glass she brought with her, she pours Gale a hearty glassful and takes a swig straight from the bottle. 

“What is this about?”

“Do you see that couple in the dinghy in the harbor over there?” she asks, gesturing towards the water with her head. Gale peaks over the railing with her to see exactly that: a young couple in a dinghy. What Poppy did not describe that Gale sees is a veritable garden of flowers filling the boat. “I think he’s going to propose.”

“At this time of day?” Gale says, a little too loudly. Poppy shushes him and he continues, quieter. “It’s supposed to be a cloudless summer day today, and quite hot at that; something that could have been seen with a simple divination spell from a cleric or druid. Neither of them are wearing hats, they could burn! She is also clearly dressed for something much nicer than a dinghy ride, that one doesn’t even look particularly clean! Oh how uncomfortable she must be. He clearly did not take her comfort into consideration. Does he even like her?”

Poppy can’t help but snort at Gale’s indignation, happy to see he’s immediately invested.

“I guess we’re going to find out. If she says yes, we can call out and congratulate them. But if she says no…” she turns to Gale and flashes him an impish grin. “I think that will be a different kind of enjoyable.”

Gale looks back over the railing. “Oh! They’ve stopped. Drat, I wish I had my binoculars at hand, they’re usually out here…”

Poppy wordlessly hands him the aforementioned binoculars she had taken with her when she originally crouched behind the railing and he takes them excitedly. Taking a sip of wine, he pokes back over the railing and begins narrating what he can see.

“He’s terribly out of breath…oh her arms are crossed she is not amused by this little excursion he’s concocted. Blimey, half the flowers are wilted. I wonder how long the boat sat in the sun…”

Looking over the railing herself she sees them sitting in the little boat but can’t make out much else. “Are they talking?”

“Indeed they are. I wish I had learned to read lips that would have been perfect for this very mom—OH! He’s getting down on one knee!”

The man does indeed get down on one knee and rocks the boat in his effort, the woman trying to stabilize herself and her squeal of her surprise and panic echoes across the water. Poppy swallows down another glug of wine but doesn’t take her eyes off of the trash fire she’s surely about to witness. 

“He’s speaking…” Gale continues. “Oh!” He exclaims and slaps a hand over his mouth in excitement, the binoculars almost slipping out of his grasp into the water. Poppy grabs the strap but she doesn’t need him to finish, she sees it clear as the day they’re sitting in: the woman has slapped the man square across the face.

“Oh my gods,” she effuses. 

Replacing the binoculars at his eyes, Gale replies, “Normally I’d hate to laugh at other people's suffering, but he could have done better. She can do better.”

They strain their ears for any taste of what they’re fighting about but they can only catch a word here or there as their volume increases and the fight continues. 

“...never cared..”

“...always…your mother!”

“...never supported me…”

“...and you’re still unemployed!”

“... at least I’m not a—”

The last few words are cut off by the woman slapping the man across the face one more time before turning around in her seat and pointedly not looking at him, thoroughly icing him out.

Both Gale and Poppy wince and “Ooooh” at the slap, this one apparently hard enough to make the man shut up. He pulls out a dagger, cutting off the blooms and ribbons to sink into the harbor, before taking up the oars once more and rowing back to shore. 

Turning so that her back is against the railing, Gale joins her, gulping down half his glass. He takes a refill without question even though she’s been drinking straight out of the bottle. Meeting the other’s gaze, the tension is broken and they both break out into a fit of giggles. Doubled over and clutching their sides, it’s a few moments before Poppy speaks. “You–you were so angry for her!”

“It seems like she needs someone in her corner! Besides, he clearly did not know her well or put in the needed consideration for a proposal. Anyone with eyes can tell that it was a rushed job.”

“How would you have done it? A mid-harbor proposal in a dinghy?”

“Well, to start,” he points his finger in the air, “I would check the weather, as I previously stated. The flowers would be fresh and in season, and their favorite. Though not so many as to affect the seaworthiness of the vessel. I would make sure they’re dressed appropriately and comfortably. I would row us out there to a programmed illusion I would have prepared earlier in the day, if I had my magic of course…” the last of his words draw off as he stares into the middle-distance. 

Poppy nudges him with his foot, not allowing him to bury himself in a hole of self-loathing. “And then what?”

“And then I would confess my never-dying love for them, which they would already be aware of. But more poetically—I would have prepared something for that very moment. And if they say yes, we’d enjoy a small picnic which I would have packed and stowed in the boat beforehand. Only their favorite foods of course.”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

“Oh but then there would be the dinner afterwards with family back at the tower, a sumptuous meal cooked by yours truly.”

“Nothing done by halves, here.”

“Never,” he grins, eyes twinkling.

“Cheers to that,” she says, holding her bottle out to him. 

“Cheers indeed.” Gale clinks his glass against her bottle and they both drink their fill. Poppy smiles into her drink at the feeling that something has finally dissolved between the two of them.

—

“These just aren’t doing it for me,” she grumbles, tossing another cookbook to the side. She’s trying to figure out what to make for meals the next few nights and for some reason everything Gale’s cookbooks had to offer are uninspiring. Getting up from the table and leaving Gale to his breakfast and tea, she goes over to the shelves where he keeps the cookbooks and pulls out a recipe box she hasn’t perused yet in her weeks staying at the tower. 

Popping the lid off, she starts flipping through them, begging the gods to show her something interesting. Most of the cards are written in Gale’s hand with plenty in his mother’s as well. But one card for Chicken Piccata has her stop in her tracks.  

She thought she knew every existing piece of her writing. It took ages to go through all of her things, Poppy finding herself reading and re-reading her mother’s journals, notes, recipes, even to-do lists, just to feel closer to her. Taking in the literal marks she left on this world. She has most of them memorized at this point and as a result is intimately familiar with her mother’s handwriting. The swoop of the first leg of her capital A’s, the flicks of the dots of every i and j, and the looping swirls of every o into the following letter. 

¼ cp capers. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen her mother’s handwriting make that specific string of letters before. The s is a little wonky here, a tiny loop at the top where her pen changed directions. 

It’s been ten years and everyone had been right; the grief never goes away, never shrinks, but your love and your life grows around it. Poppy has learned to live without her mother and learned to live around the grief. The pain used to be constant until it wasn’t. Until she could go months sometimes without feeling the wrenching stab of grief cut her open once more. 

It doesn’t happen slowly but suddenly, Poppy hacking out a sob that unleashes a torrential downpour of salty tears down her face.

Gale is upon her instantly, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tightly. The card is trapped between them in one of her hands but she doesn’t let go, she can’t let go. The headrush makes her feel like she’s swaying but Gale keeps her upright. One of his hands is cupping the back of her head and he’s whispering, “I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay,” like a mantra. She feels her shoulder moisten from his own tears.

“Why weren’t you there?” she wails, the pain of his absence from her mother’s funeral pouring over her. “You were sup–posed to be th–there,” she blubbers.

“I have no excuses. I was impossibly stupid, Poppy. My reasons aren’t worth repeating because you’re right, I should have been there. And you had every right to shut me out afterwards. I am so, so very sorry. From the deepest depths of my heart and my soul I am sorry for all the pain that I caused you. You are my closest and dearest friend and I am so sorry that I ever made you think otherwise.” 

Pulling her trapped arm from out in between them she hugs him back, clinging to him like a lifeline. This is what she needed when her mother passed, this is what she needed at her funeral, for him to hold her and for her to hold him back. Adrianne Lyons was like a second mother to him and in the days they both needed each other he wasn’t there. But he’s here now. And these minutes they hold each other and cry together in his kitchen heal something inside of her that she thought was going to stay broken forever.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

*bursts door open* Mousyyyyyy- I got the Farmer Thoughts™ again. So you know how the Farmer can do magic in the vanilla game, and SVE expands on this concept even further. They can see Junimos, they can transmute metals, they can teleport to another continent. And with the Magic mod, they can blast their enemies with a meteorite or standard Fireballs.

But unlike Morgan, the Farmer was never taken away from their family to train under a more experienced wizard or witch. They lead a regular life prior to Stardew Valley, minus the skeleton in the neighboring cubicle at their job.

I got an idea as to why they could lead a normal life, and I'm sure as hell incorporating that into my Farmer's bio. The Farmer's a late bloomer in terms of magic. They did not show signs of magical talent when they were Morgan's age, which came with a sigh of relief from their Parent. The Parent, after witnessing the tragic death of their mother (RSV Granny) due to a magical curse, wanted their kid safe AT. ALL. COST. and away from anything magic. They most likely never developed any magical skills themselves, or they too are a late bloomer (I like the second option). And they were thinking they were in the clear, finally. ...Until their kid, the Farmer, came to Pelican Town and got involved with Magnus and the Junimos within the first week of them living there. Shit. Bonus:

The Parent got a major grudge against the Cult of the Lady with the Red Tail and said Lady with the Red Tail for being the cause of their mother's untimely death.

While they don't necessarily feel any hatred towards the Wizards of Stardew Valley, Magnus and Mr. Aguar, they still don't trust them fully because of magic. Definitely not a huge fan of Magnus after the Parent learns of the forest magic potion the Farmer drinks.

*Yawn* ♪Ah♪, time to go to sleep in a cosy bed, get ready for tomorrow's work day and- *saw a notification on Tumblr*

Oh! *kicking the blanket away* Fuck sleep - time for thoughts and theories! :D

_________________________________________

I have to say, your thoughts on headcanon almost perfectly describes my Farmer Julian's lore.

As you said earlier, in theory, everyone can manifest magic at different ages: some from early childhood (like Morgan), some a little later or after forty etc. (Julian and the other Farmers), and some will have magic "no awaked" (Julian's father, Abraham, who inherited magic from his father, the Farmer's Grandpa). Given that Julian's parents are aware of the existence of magic, but not in detail, it raises a lot of questions. And Granny's death, according to the RSV lore, could put an end to trust in all things magical, you're right.

Also thoughts about Magnus and Mr. Aguar is so funny 🤣

Farmer's Parent to Magnus: What do you mean my kid drank "tea" made of fly agaric?!

Farmer: Mum/Dad, don't kill Magnus...

Magnus: *praying for his life*

There is also speculation that it was after they moved away that the magic manifested in Farmer because of the Stardew Valley itself. This place full of forest spirits, magic, and monsters can't help but affect residents and visitors alike. Especially those with an innate magical gift, or those who haven't yet developed one.

I still don't quite understand, however - how exactly Morgan was taken from their family and given to Magnus for training. Does the Ministry discuss it with the parents of the gifted child, is the child "persuaded" by promises of teaching interesting magic and tricks, or is the child taken away almost by force and without any compromise? If by force, I can see why Farmer wasn't taken away for training - after all, a child can be persuaded or intimidated, but try to pull that off with a young adult who can still kick your ass. But that's just a theory, I wanted to provide the Ministry not as a completely evil and corrupt society of mages and witches.

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

Pairing: Demon Lloyd Hansen/ Reader

Summary: Going to hang out with your friends on Halloween but what ends up happening is anything but normal.

Word Count: 3,448

Warnings: Smut,rough sex, sex with a demon, dub con (reader consents but is initially wary) use of pet names, Dom/sub vibes,P in V, Oral Sex (female receiving), swearing,blood,gore, violence, Demon Lloyd Hansen (he’s a warning ok)

Thank you to @jessybarnes my Tumblr bestie for the wonderful bingo card,@firefly-graphics for the consent divider and @saradika for the wonderful dividers and reblog dividers.

(Sorry this is WAY after October but I plan to upload more from this bingo board for Do It Up December. Also all mistakes are mine and mine alone google docs can only fix so much lol)

After working you wanted nothing more than to get home, put on your softest pj's and watch something and crash, hard. But your friends had planned a sort of Halloween thing and you were practically forced to go, sighing you sent your friends a text letting them know you wanted to change and grab some snacks before heading over. Putting down your phone you made your way to the bedroom and changed into what you called “lazy” clothes, a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt. Heading back out you grab the snacks you purchased a few days ago and bagged them before grabbing your phone and purse just in case and locking the door behind you. Walking the short distance to your friends house you had no idea it would be the last time things would ever be the same.

Walking up to your friend's house you frowned seeing no lights on “The hell?” taking out your phone you notice your original message was never opened, banging on the door you sigh “Hey this isn’t funny! Open the damn door! Bunch of morons….” Sighing, you slide your phone into your back pocket and glance around, finding the “special” rock you slide a key out from under it and open the front door. Walking in you glance around “Guys? If you're planning on scaring me I’m going to leave!”

Mumbling to yourself you walk further into the room, frowning you trip over something and stumble falling to the floor “What the hell” Your pants feel wet and your frown increases, moving to stand your hand slips on something. Turning on a nearby lamp a scream slides out of your mouth as you finally take in the scene around you, all your friends are dead laying lifeless and mutilated on the floor. Scrambling to get up all you end up doing is covering yourself in their blood and some vicera, fighting the urge to gag you manage to press into a corner.

Standing shakily you realize you were in a giant pentagram “The fuck happened here?!?!” Suddenly you hear a low chuckle and a voice “Well you see Sunshine you fuck around with things you don’t understand and well shit happens” Eyes wide you turn towards where the voice came from seeing nothing but darkness, swallowing hard you look at your hand seeing it covered in blood. “Aww first time seeing this much blood Sunshine? Good thing you weren’t here for the real fun….it got even messier”

Shaking your head you eye the door and hear someone clicking their tongue “I wouldn’t recommend that Sunshine, would really hate to kill you for something silly” Swallowing you shiver slightly “Well I would rather not stay uh here…pretty sure I’m going to puke” You hear velvety laughing making you shiver again “How about we talk about things somewhere less likely to make you throw up? Because we have a lot to discuss Sunshine” Mutely nodding you close your eyes and feel a hot breeze.

“Go on Sunshine, open those pretty eyes, you're safe for now” Slowly you open your eyes and see your back at your place frowning,you glance around seeing nobody “Uh thanks? Where are you?” More laughter this time much closer, turning quickly you see nobody. “Now the question Sunshine is, do you want to see the real me or the form I use the most?” Swallowing you, think for a second “Can I see your real form?” You can almost feel him smirk as he answers “Sure Sunshine if you think your pretty little head can handle it”

Nodding knowing he will see it you clear your throat before answering slightly annoyed “I wouldn’t have asked if I couldn’t handle it” This time the laugh sounds darker and almost sinister “You always such a spitfire Sunshine? Most of the times when people act like that with me it doesn’t go well, kind of like your friends, but you I don’t mind it. Does that mean I’ll keep liking it? Who knows” Again you can almost feel him at you neck smirking, goosebumps form on your skin as you wait for whatever is going to come next.

Suddenly the air feels charged, almost electric and it makes you want to close your eyes again and huddle into the corner. But you don’t do either, keeping your eyes focused to where you think the voice is coming from you slowly see a figure moving. The darkness manages to keep him well hidden until he steps out, the first thing you notice is the legs. Long and lean but muscular you frown slightly until you see the hooves, your eyes widen and he grins stepping out more. His torso is the same as his legs lean but muscular, thick arms and even larger hands draw your attention.

You’re both fascinated and horrified at the same time, you hear him chuckle drawing your attention back to his face. You would have gasped if you had any air in your lungs, his chest was broad and wide but not comically so. His face is what had you speechless, he was handsome and it made you imagine some sort of greek statue of one of the gods. His short black hair was meticulously groomed along with the mustache, taking another look you realized there were horns on the top of his head.

“Well this has got to be a first Sunshine, normally this is the point where people beg, plead, and offer whatever they have for me to leave and right now you're eyeing me like I’m the last piece of pie” You swallow and notice a tail moving behind him, sitting up you lean to get a better look making him laugh again “All you have to do is ask Sunshine, I don’t bite well not yet at least” He winks at you and you find yourself blushing at it, turning his tail flicks out almost annoyed. Then you notice the wings and you find yourself suddenly up and moving closer to him.

“Well aren’t you just a fascinating person Sunshine, well go on and get a good look if it will sate your curiosity” Licking your lips you are almost touching him, the heat radiating off of him is almost too much and yet not enough, reaching your hand out you gently touch his arm. The skin is soft, softer than it looks and your hands move to touch his horns. They feel just like how horns should, frowning as you move to his wings touching them almost cautiously. “Don’t be getting shy on me now Sunshine”

You nod slightly and gently stroke the wing, you hear him make a noise and you look at him with a blush creeping up on your face. He winks at you and you quickly turn away from him and lightly touch where his tail connects to him, and you swear you hear him groan “Sunshine I get your curious but better what what your touching” Pulling your hand away quickly you find yourself apologizing “Uh sorry….I don’t know how to ask this nicely so I’m just going to ask, what are you?”

He smiles and gently takes your hand kissing the top of it. “Some call me Lloyd, well the ones I like do” You nod “And the ones you don’t like?” He grins and you see the sharp canine teeth “Oh they don’t get to talk Sunshine and trust me when I say you would rather have me like you” You nod knowing he’s right “And for what I am, well I’m a demon. Your little friends were playing with a Ouija board thinking they were having a good time, well they did until they didn’t. See, messing with something like that is already stupid but messing with one and thinking you know what you’re doing well it gets you killed.”

You nod knowing that it was a dumb idea to play with anything that “opened” doors “That explains you but what happened to my friends?” Lloyd grins again “Oh they thought they could control me, guess they figured out real fast that wasn’t happening. And I don’t take too well to being controlled so I killed them” You should feel upset, mad, hell even sad but they got what they deserved. Who in the hell thinks they can control an ACTUAL demon? You look at him suddenly “Uh why haven’t you killed me then?”

Lloyd moves closer to you, almost touching but not quite, you could smell what smelled like a very expensive cologne and it made you want to press closer to him, nuzzle into his neck. Shaking your head slightly you look at him and see his smug smirk “Well you see Sunshine I came here because of you, these idiots happened to just be here.” You look up at him confused “Me? I don’t understand” Again Lloyd moved closer now touching you ever so slightly “Oh Sunshine have you forgotten already?”

“You’ve played with a Ouija board yourself a time or two haven’t you? But unlike these idiots you actually know what you're doing with one, and I have been watching you for such a very long time and I figured it was time to pay you a proper visit. And what a better time than Halloween when the veil is at its most thin, so here I am and here you are.” Suddenly you remember playing on a Ouija board as a little girl having the best time, and then once again as a party trick in college. 

“Ahh she finally remembers! Little did you know you summoned me Sunshine and now that I’m here I have some ideas about what we can do” The last part makes you shiver, your body reacting and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself. “And what are your ideas?” You cringe slightly hearing how breathy your voice sounds, there was no way you were getting turned on by a demon who had literally just murdered your friends. Lloyd laughs this time a full laugh and if it doesn’t make you clench and your pretty sure he knows it “See I knew you would be receptive to this Sunshine”

“And for the record my ideas are exactly what you think they are, I have  been waiting for this moment for years and after the long wait I can’t find myself wanting to be patient any more” You should move away from him but you instead move closer “Stop making me do this!” You feel Lloyds hand move through your hair “Oh Sunshine I’m not doing anything to you … well not yet at least, this is all you for the moment and I suggest just enjoying it. Now let’s take this somewhere more comfortable” You close your eyes and feel a thumb tracing your lips opening your mouth slightly. You take the thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently.

“So eager aren’t you Sunshine, but I need a taste first, it's only fair after such a long time waiting for you” You have no time to react,and suddenly you're thrown onto your bed and staring up at the ceiling and a hand pulling off your pants and panties. You can feel him looking at you and you feel the urge to squirm, your shirt is suddenly off and you're now totally bare. Grinning Lloyd looks you over and licks his lips “Well so far this has been worth the wait Sunshine, now I suggest you stay still wouldn’t want to accidentally hit something. Would hate for you to bleed out or die”

You nod and it seems like an eternity until you feel him touching you, he runs his hands up your legs and you feel one his claws gently tracing a pattern. Moving higher up he spreads your legs open and you let out a soft whimper but he hears it smirking “Well look at this, someone is excited to have a demon defile her, I knew you were worth the wait Sunshine” You feel his mouth suddenly at your core and you tense before you feel the first lick at your folds,almost hesitant as if testing you, gasping you realize his tongue is forked and you have the urge to want to feel it deep inside of you.

“Oh I intend to Sunshine no worries just lay there and behave like a good girl and maybe we can both enjoy this'' Giving you no warning he begins to eat you out like a starving man at a buffet, you try your hardest to no succeed in enjoying it but it's been too long and it feels too good and soon enough you find yourself moaning and grinding into his needy mouth. Lloyd smirks and takes your clit into his mouth sucking hard as his forked tongue licks and laps at every spot it can. You try your hardest to stay and not enjoy this but your body is telling a different story “Mmm Sunshine I can feel you clenching around me”

You blush trying to shake your head but you know he’s right, a low needy whimper slides out of your throat making him chuckle his tongue moving deeper. Your eyes close and you arch again sweat pools on your forehead as you're ravished by his sinful tongue and mouth, his mustache rubs against your walls sends a jolt into your very core. You feel the coil tightening and soon you hear yourself begging him to let you cum “Please….” the word tumbles out of your mouth, shaky and hoarse. One of his clawed hands grip your hips harder, puncturing the skin but you're too far gone to notice or care.

“Oh Sunshine you taste divine and the begging well I’m almost tempted to let you cum just because it was so good, but we have lots of time and I want to explore you fully” Letting his tongue continue to lap at your juices he looks up at you, and you moan seeing his mustache wet with your arousal. Large fat tears roll down your face as all the sensations become too much “Need to cum! Please!” Lloyd looks at you and strokes your cheek smirking “Aww Sunshine is it too much for you? Let me help you” Your gaze moves down to see his thick hard cock nudging your core, your eyes widen and a sliver of panic sets in “That will not fit!” Lloyd laughs and smirks “I appreciate the compliment but it will I’ll make sure of it Sunshine”

You feel him thick and hot pushing harder and you find yourself opening your legs wider for him, your hand moving to your clit rubbing it as you moan loudly “Fuck Sunshine look at you going to make  you mine, well you were already mine this seals the deal” Gripping your hips you feel him slam into you fully taking the breath from your lungs, the stretch brings tears to your eyes but that soon give way to unrivaled pleasure. As he thrusts into you, your eyes close and your hips grind into him pushing him deeper “Oh god, I’m so close!” Leaning down to look at you he smirks but there is another look within his eyes but your too far gone to appreciate it “I’m going to fill you up Sunshine and you’ll never be alone again I swear it”

His thrusts become more and more erratic as he slams into you, your body bouncing as his hand continues to grip your hips, his free hand rubs your clit and you almost scream his name “Can I cum please? Please please please!” Lloyd grunts with each thrust and chuckles “How can I deny you when you ask you pretty Sunshine, go on and coat my cock and I’ll fill you up nice and full. You nod and feel him thrusting faster and harder, his hand rubs your clit faster and the coil inside of you snaps, with a loud moan you shout his name as your orgasm crashes into you. You can vaguely feel him throb and twitch as he buries himself deep, pulling you up he kisses you hard and you can taste yourself in his mouth. He smirks and his voice is low, almost a growl as whispers into your ear “You’re mine Sunshine forever” You feel his claw like nails moving along your skin leaving hot angry scratches behind making you whimper softly.

Lloyd grins and bites down on your lower lip as you hear him growl, his cock jerks hard and he explodes and ropes of his thick seed pump into you. You can feel every bit of it being pumped into you and you find yourself moaning loudly, black spots fill your vision as you finally accept this. Wrapping your legs around him, he smirks and holds you close to him as he continues to thrust and fill you. Your eyes drift close and you hear him laugh “Aww wore you out Sunshine? Get some sleep I’ll make sure you're nice and full” You sag into him feeling him continuing to pound into you.

Waking after what seems like hours, you feel someone stroking your hair.. Groaning softly you press into a warm body and your eyes shoot open and you glance around trying to get your bearings, hearing a soft chuckle you look at the man stroking your hair “About time you woke up Sunshine, I thought maybe I had actually broken you” You glance at him and talk but your voice is raspy and hoarse from moaning “Lloyd?” He smirks and nods “The one and only Sunshine, and now you’ve seen both my forms. This one is less fun but also less likely to have a mob on my hands” Looking him over he looked almost the same, minus the horns,tail and cloven hooves you almost liked this form better.

“I’m wounded Sunshine and here I thought you loved my horns and tail, now shall we discuss things?” You nod slowly, your body feels like a semi ran over it then backed over it about a hundred times “Alright uh what things are we discussing?” Lloyd smirks and you catch the faintest glimpse of fang “Your marriage arrangement to myself of course” Your eyes widen and you're suddenly very much awake “My whatnow?!” Laughing Lloyd looks at you and the room feels suddenly smaller and darker a chill moving through your body “Aww Sunshine you’re breaking my demonic heart here, see little did you know that when you played with those Ouija boards you had actually made a vow to me that one day you would be mine, and well here we are.”

You look at him shocked. “What?” Lloyd strokes your cheek and smiles “See should have been paying better attention Sunshine, see when you were graciously giving me orgasm after orgasm I was reciting what comes down to a marriage pact and when you were moaning my name and calling me god that is what sealed the literal deal. Don’t deny that you wanted this Sunshine, some darker part of you did, your life was nothing and at least now you have me. Besides, the only way out of this is if I break the contract but we both know we don’t want that.” You stare at him before realizing his words are true, you did want this well not this exactly but you wanted more.

“So what happens now?” Lloyd grins and places a kiss on your bare shoulder trailing a long jagged scratch with a smirk. “Well Sunshine I stay here with you, and after 3 months when the wedding happens you get to come with me forever” You swallow hard and he kisses your cheek whispering softly “I can feel your tension from here Sunshine but you’ll fit into your role, I have no doubt about that. Now you relax and let me take care of you” You nod slowly letting everything sink in, realizing that things were definitely different … and you hoped that you could handle it.

[spnfanficpond]

April 2023 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

WELCOME TO THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE (you don’t have to be a member) CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. Everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that this fun, thoughtful award will do just that. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for Tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Natural Woman by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Floofy, sexy, fun, and hot!

~*~*~

Nominated by @glygriffe

What Goes Around Don't Come Around (or Maybe It Does) by @rauko-creates

I always appreciate Rauko's way with words and it was probably the best way to introduce myself to Drowley fanfic. "Crowley deserved to be loved" is the summary and I agree.

Plain sigh by @luci-in-trenchcoats

This fic has a lot of fun twists and turns and fluff, even dealing with a serious matter like kidnapping. I had a lot of fun reading this!

Apple of My Eye (series) by@bamby0304

This series has been nominated before (and not that long ago) but I just discovered it and I love the way the Reader and her daughter are interwoven in the arcs of two very different seasons of the show.

Pure by @deanwinchesterswitch

This short piece feels real and raw, primeval, which fits the Purgatory setting beautifully.

Being Human by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Dean needing a break between cases and Castiel allowing him to take that break, to just... be human for once is heartwarming.

Part-time soulmate by @princessmisery666

Dean will never allow his relationship with the [unnamed female character] to be a 'normal' picket-fence one, even if he wants it so much. So... a lot of angst, just the way I like it!

~*~*~

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

The Hero, The Myth, The Legend by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

I have so many feelings about this fic. Some of my favorite Dean traits are lovingly explored here: empathy, compassion, protective nature, enthusiastic embrace of healthy casual sex between consenting adults, open discussion of trauma. The Reader is a bold and well-developed character herself, and the descriptions of each of their behaviors and feelings are so vivid and engaging. This is a fic I will read and re-read in the coming years.

Buttons by @wingedcatninja

The build-up and anticipation is delightful and so sexy in this short little ficlet!

~*~*~

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Forbidden Fruit (series) by @crashdevlin

It's a really interesting dynamic, it's a great first chapter and I love the relationship between them!

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Pure by @deanwinchesterswitch

This made me feel TOO MANY THINGS TOO FAST and it hurt so now y'all gotta read it, too and feel my pain!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @princessmisery666

He Is The Storm by @deanwinchesterswitch

So much emotion in so few words. Brilliant and so proud of Kym for writing a drabble!

Tattered (series) by @stusbunker

I don't usually read AU's but this one has drew me in and now I'm here for it!! The emotions are palpable and I can't see where it all leads.

Book of Revelations (And A Side of Coffee) by @cockslutpadalecki

Dean playing matchmaker and the fluffiness is too much. I love it so much!

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME WORK AND GREAT FEEDBACK!

These are not actual awards, as in, there is no competition! This system is set up so everyone has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author in the Pond that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[highlordofkrypton]

five years, a clark x orm fanfic

note: sorry, I realized I never posted the updates on Tumblr! will be posting all the chapters on here until I’m caught up!

Chapter 6

Arthur has been staring for seven minutes. Something’s different about his little brother, but he can’t quite place it. The younger Atlantean never gives anything away, but today’s not different from any other time spent together—he’s determined to crack his brother’s stoic facade. 

There, right there.

He hadn’t seen it the first time, but once he noticed it, oh it’s game over.

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Ormie?”

“I have told you not to call me that,” the King of Atlantis snaps. His annoyance still doesn’t deter Arthur, who keeps grinning and floating lazily in the map room. Orm doesn’t lift his gaze, studying the mess of plans before him. “I am in no mood.”

“You’re always in a mood. Today, it just so happens it’s a good one.”

The sigh that escapes Orm gives Arthur pause. Did he read wrong? No, wait there. It happened again.

“You keep doing that with your hand.”

“Doing what.”

Arthur tries to mimic the gesture, an aborted semi-circle, like a little fish trying to turn on its tail. It’s cute, suspiciously cute. Orm has other tells, but this one is new. He’s never seen it before. He might not have been paying attention… or maybe Orm has never been happy to see him? Nah . Arthur’s a treat to be around, even if he (apparently) threatens the throne.

“I do not do that.”

“Mhm, if you say so.” Arthur swims closer, crowding his brother’s space with a ridiculous grin. He has years of brotherly needling to catch up on. It’s his fated duty to be extra annoying. He doesn’t want the throne; all he’s ever wanted is a brother. So, he’s here with all his overwhelming affection.

He keeps staring and grinning.

“What, Arthur? There is no mood! There is nothing for you to worry about.”

“Did you have a good lunch?”

“Lunch was acceptable, as always.”

“The palace hires the finest cooks, yeah, yeah, I know.” 

He keeps circling Orm like the most petulant shark. Arthur’s brows raise with amusement. “Is it a girl? Oh, a boy? No, no, a Wright?”

“I would never,” Orm snaps. He detests the customs of the Wright Kingdom, and their incessant nuzzling. Arthur knows that. Honestly, Arthur loves the otter-people. It’s why he volunteered to be Atlantis’ delegate; he has no problem swimming around holding Prince Hopi’s hand while they discuss anything but politics. “I am betrothed to Mera. You know that.”

“I did not. Who’s Mera? Is she hot? I bet she’s hot in a murder way.” Everyone in Atlantis is hot in a murder way. Or a tentacle way. At least, that’s what Topo says.

“Mera is of average temperature. If she was hot, we should concern ourselves with illness, not murder.” Or poison. 

Orm never reveals the source of his hand-wiggle, and he keeps his hand balled in a fist throughout the rest of Arthur’s stay, so as not to indicate anything. Arthur keeps prying, but he gets nothing and that’s boring.

They only have so much time together, between running a Kingdom and being a member of the Justice League. Arthur considers their time precious and important. Time spent with Orm helps remind him that Arthur wants nothing to do with the crown. Not now and not ever, unless Orm wants to step down. He’ll do it for his brother and his mother, but no one else.

Tipping his head, Arthur touches the comms device in his ear.

“I’ve gotta go. League business.”

“I am not a child.” Orm glares. 

“You be good, kiddo. I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Very well.”

Arthur picks Orm up in a bear hug, spinning him and ruffling his hair.

***

Two weeks pass and Arthur has not been seen. Normally, Orm would not brother with their absence. There is a mysterious ache in his chest at the distance, but he accords it to the consequences of strenuous training. A king cannot afford to go out of practice; a challenge can arise at any time and he must be ready.

He does not understand the intricacies of the Justice League, only that they are heroes, however nebulous the term might seem to him. From what he has learned from Arthur, occasionally, missions do not go as planned. That is fine. What is not fine is the way the hammock has begun to rot on the island from disuse and their flowers have withered. Clark has been gone longer than Arthur, almost a month, and perhaps it is Orm’s own fault for not questioning his absence sooner.

He has a kingdom to run. Clark has a surface to… exist in. These are their responsibilities.

Clark had mentioned this city, briefly, as the home of Superman. Each of the members of his League have staked a claim on their own cities: the Flash and Green Lantern in Central City, Batman in Gotham, Arthur in Amnesty Bay and Wonder Woman in Paris. While he may not show any interest in these other surface dwellers, save for the princess, Orm still listens.

Metropolis is vile. Ugly. There is no colour here, only grays. Their vehicles sport basic colours, nothing close to the rich gleams found within the sea . He notes the way they move and the people inside them. Surely, someone will know where to find the hero of their city. He steps into the middle of oncoming traffic, ignoring the vile screech of those moving cans. 

“Bring me Superman!” He demands, raising his trident in the air.

The vehicles swerve around them. Surface dwellers yell at him, and one dares to make his way towards him. He is the King of Atlantis, do they not know what it means to challenge him? He will not mourn their deaths.

“Hey, ass—”

He swings his weapon, intending harm. He has made his demands. He will not repeat himself. The impact is halted by the hand of another. The League boasts only one woman, and the one before him is made of something other than wonder. She stares at him with narrowed emerald eyes—she has no pupils and no iris, only a haunting green glow embedded into her face. Her skin is unlike any surface dweller he has crossed, a deep orange, like the sunsets on his island.

The human scurries away, glancing back at the Amazon-like stranger. She is tall and she is strong, but he harbours no doubts that he can defeat her.

“What business do you have with Superman?”

“Bring him to me and I will tell him directly.”

She seems to consider it, despite her impassive expression. “No.”

“Then, I will simply rid myself of all who stand in my way.”

His opponent is fast. She moves with a speed and strength that rivals Superman. He strikes at her, and she leverages flight to gain the high ground. No matter. With the magic of his trident, the winds bend to his will. They sweep her up into a hurricane, along with a handful of other surface objects.

With her out of his way, he can resume his search for his loved one. 

Now, where to begin?

The woman gives him no reprieve, darting through the maelstrom and crashing into him. She collides into him with enough strength they crater the street beneath him. Still, this is only a fraction of the pressure of the sea’s depths.

Snarling at him, her clothes give way to black armor, as black as her flame-tipped hair, crawling across her skin. Armor is not the correct word for it, there are obsidian spikes on her shoulder and hips. Her arms and legs are covered, but her soft belly is left exposed, a critical design flaw. In that moment, he decides that he will gore her belly to prove that Atlantean weaponry is superior to anything the surface can create.

“Shame,” she hisses. “Any of the League would have let you live.”

Orm huffs, unafraid. Does she truly think that this is the end for him? Not even close. He flicks his wrist. Static fills the air moments before the lightning strikes her.

She cackles wildly, her eyes widening. Raising her hand, a spear materializes from her palm, blooming outwards as she absorbs the lightning.

“Tell me your business with Superman and perhaps, I will let you live.”

“No.”

He bucks her off him, and she flips, floating in the air. This time, their blows are concussive, each strike and parry echoing with resounding boom throughout Metropolis. The humans have sought cover from the lightning and the damages caused by these two warriors. Orm knees her in the stomach, but dark fire summoned in her hand burns him. The sensation is agony, akin to being without water for days— weeks. She begins to rain fire on him, so he summons a storm. Each droplet rejuvenates him and renews his efforts.

“Bring me Superman,” he demands through grit teeth.

“N—”

A blur of red and blue crashes into her, taking her into the nearest building. The sound of pummeling fists is even louder than their clashing weapons.

Orm’s brow furrow.

“Super—”

It happens just as quickly to him. The attack and this time, the impact winds him. Above him, Clark snarls. His blue eyes have turned black, and a spider web of  dark veins surrounds the skin around them. That is not his Clark. His Clark would never raise a fist against him without reason—his soul is too gentle for that.

Superman catches the black spear thrown in his direction. The armored woman pulls herself out of the wreckage, blood trickling down her nose.

“Blot out the sun and restrain him!”

For a moment, Orm thinks to tell her that he takes orders from no one, but her spear is already disintegrating, sticking to the skin of Clark’s hand, and he knows there is little time. He uses his trident to hook Clark close and hold him close as he begins to thrash. The woman launches herself at them, and her armor begins to encase Clark.

Superman’s screams are deafening.

It wears on him, gnawing at his chest and he recognizes this feeling as guilt. Orm remains steadfast, despite his regret in trusting this stranger.

“Let’s see how you like it.”

Emerald railroad spikes appear out of nowhere and pin Komand’r to the ground. They fly towards Orm, and he is forced to release Clark to dodge. A man dressed in black and green, donning a mask over his black eyes, floats above them in the sky. He traps the woman in a circular green prison, and Orm in a strange box with a gentle wind.

What strange nonsense is this?

“Harold, if you do not release me, I will beat your ass.” She bangs against the walls of her prison.

“Hot,” the man purrs, grinning in return.

Orm’s only addition is a single question: “Am I supposed to perish listening to the stupidity of this conversation?”

The woman turns to look at him, tilting her head, as if he’d offended her. “You are in a pet dryer, you sloth-brained nitwit. It will kill you slowly and gently.”

He has no frame of reference as to what a pet dryer is, but the threat of death has him trying different tactics to get out, including banging against the construct’s walls, and trying to summon the elements to work in his favour. None work. The air within the dryer begins to dehydrate him, and his lungs burn. The agony centers at his chest, where his heart strains.

“Hal,” the woman’s voice softens as she presses her hand against the emerald wall. “It is me. You promised you would be my safety. You swore it. Hal, there is a reason you are a Lantern. You are stubborn, fight it and help me find what is ours.”

She provides a perfect distraction for him, but before he can do anything at all, the green disappears. The man takes Superman with him, retreating into the sky. He watches as she tries to go after them, too weak to fly.

“So,” he says, masking his pain. His weight presses entirely on his trident. “You too, then.”

[mooum]

In the Shadows of Our Disoriented Love - Chapter Two

A Sebastian x Ominis x Reader story originally published on my AO3 under the same pseudonym. If found elsewhere, it’s not posted by me. This work will only be found on my Tumblr and AO3. Do not repost, but reblogging is welcomed.

“Most people are lucky to have even one great love in their life. You have found two.” -Clockwork Princess

one || two

After getting nagged by the Head Wizard for surpassing curfew, Sebastian finally enters his dormitory and silently shuts the door. He crumples the small detention slip and tosses it in the waste bin on his way to his bed. 

“Where were you this time?” A stern voice questions. 

Ominis is sitting on his bed while having a book in hand. His fingers trace the words on the pages while a voice in his head speaks whatever text he was touching. It was a simple spell he was taught when he could first yield a wand; having a voice in his head read out the page for him. It reminded him of the times when his Aunt Nocua would secretly read him fairy-tales from The Brothers Grimm. It was something his parents disapprove of since it tainted him with false stories from the Muggle world. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Sebastian responds as he slips into his night attire. 

Ominis sighs and he closes his book. “Look, you can’t break curfew every time. The Head Wizard is starting to get pissed off.”

Sebastian tends to disappear a couple times during the room inspection that ensures everyone is in bed on time. Ominis would make an excuses for Sebastian’s absence every time, saying he either was in the restroom or was running late from a study group.

Sebastian lays in bed and pulls the covers over himself. He turns his back to Ominis, not wanting to take the discussion any further. To that, Ominis shakes his head and places his book on his nightstand before laying down as well.

Normally, Sebastian wouldn’t mind sharing his whereabouts, so it was odd that he was being quiet about it now. It worried him at times when Sebastian would be secretive with him especially since they share everything with each other. He hopes Sebastian will come back to his senses tomorrow.

-----

Ominis Gaunt never exactly met you. Most of his knowledge about you were from whispers and rumors from his classmates and Sebastian. Especially from Sebastian.

Sebastian could not stop talking about “the new student who single handedly took him down” and he opted to keep a close eye on you. Ominis couldn’t bother with the new student, but he was starting to get annoyed with hearing about you and that dragon attack as he passed the halls. The incident with the troll made it worse.

Bloody hell, Sebastian could not stop talking about that event. Giant trolls tearing down Hogsmeade and both of you took it down without the assistance of an Auror. You were too good. You threw barrels and spells Sebastian had never even seen. 

The blonde is starting to get rather annoyed with hearing about you constantly and needs to clear his head. He makes his way towards the Undercroft and hears the familiar sound of the clock clicking. 

“Hello, Sebastian.” He greets, but immediately pauses. “Wait.”

The footsteps were nothing of Sebastian’s. His is quieter when exiting the Undercroft since he doesn’t want to alert anyone nearby. These were heavier and careless. 

“You there! I can hear!” Ominis calls out as his blinking wand is directed at the intruder.

“Oh, hello Ominis.” You greet as you try to keep your voice to sound like a casual manner. “I think we have Potions together…and Herbology?”

“I recognize that voice.” Ominis mutters in a low grumble. “You’re that new fifth year. Did you just come from the Undercroft? How did you get in there?!”

You slightly jump at the sudden demanding outburst. The Ominis you’ve observed in your classes was quiet and collected. Your mind scrambles to come up with a reasonable excuse. 

“That room’s called the Undercroft? Ah, well. I was exploring- a-and I suddenly found myself in a strange passageway-”

“Don’t lie to me!” Ominis interrupts as he grips his wand tighter in anger. You can see his knuckles turn paler. “No one just stumbles upon that room. You breathe a word about this place to anyone, not even your precious Professor Fig would be able to help you.”

Even if Ominis’s eyes didn’t meet your own, you can still feel the frustration lace in voice.

“My father is friends with the Headmaster. I’m not afraid to exploit that connection if I need to.” 

Ominis hated using his Pureblood status in order to get his way of things, but at times like this, it was necessary. The Undercroft was his place of security. A place where he holds fond memories and having it threatened by someone he doesn’t know frustrates him to no end. 

“Sebastian is going to get an earful about this.” Ominis mumbles as he passes right by you, but not before his shoulders hit yours (an indication that you must tread carefully around him now).

-----

Sebastian hears the elevator dig and his head pops out from his book. He was sitting on the floor while his back was rested on a pillar. He smiles upon seeing his Slytherin friend.

“Ah, Ominis! How lovely-”

“We need to talk.” 

“I assume you ran into my new friend.” Sebastian nervously laughs when he notices the serious tone in Ominis’s voice. His breathing is a bit more heavy and his shoulders are tense. 

Ominis stomps over to Sebastian as the brunette stands up from the floor. “Look, I know it seems bad, but we can trust t-”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Ominis cries out. His voice cracks slightly from hurt. “You swore that this place stays between me, you, and Anne!”

Sebastian’s composure remains calm. “I know I did, and I’m sorry.”

Ominis paces back and forth, a small habit of his when he’s overwhelmed with emotion. His hands are buried in his face in order to hide the tears swelling his eyes.

“First, you wouldn’t stop talking about that new student. Then, you wouldn’t tell me why you were out late that one time and now, you show them the Undercroft.” He wipes the tears from his eyes. “What is going on between you two?”

“Nothing!” Sebastian responds almost too quickly and defensively.

Ominis says calmly, “I’m worried about you. I’m worried that your new friend is causing you to be more reckless.”

“I can assure you, I'm staying safe.” Sebastian reassures. 

“Anyways, that’s not what I’m here for. My father sent me this.” Ominis hands a folded piece of parchment over to Sebastian.

I manage to open its doors, but I hesitate to enter. The corridors are dark, so I couldn’t see anything beyond the stairs. I need a moment to rest, so I’ll continue my journey tomorrow. 

Slytherin won’t make it easy for just anyone to access his scriptorium, so I expect some sort of challenge ahead. I’ll leave notes for you as I progress through the corridors. In case something happens, I can at least leave a little something behind.

Yours truly, 

Noctua Gaunt

P.S. Please continue to reassure Ominis that I’m doing well. I’m sure my sudden disappearance has caused him great worry. Tell him I’ll return soon.

“That was the last letter Father received from Aunt Noctua.” Ominis explains. “He finally sent it to me after I kept pestering him about what happened to her.”

For weeks, Ominis wrote letter after letter demanding his father to tell him what had happened to his aunt. He refuses to believe the tale of her leaving the Gaunt family like his ancestor Rionach Gaunt did. He knew his aunt and she would never leave Ominis, at least not without a proper explanation. 

He receives the letter, but not without a threat from his father; Do not enter that scriptorium. I will not hesitate to withdraw you from the school if I find you doing so.

“So, what this letter is saying is that Salazar Slytherin has some sort of secret scriptorium?” It wasn’t a question, but rather clearance to see if he read the words on the paper correctly. 

“Yes and it’s here within Hogwarts.” Ominis responds with a nod. “It’s no secret among the Gaunts, however, no one has ever venture there. That was until my aunt did.”

“And now us!” Sebastian perks up excitedly. 

“Absolutely not.” Ominis says. “We are not going anywhere near that scriptorium.”

Sebastian’s smile dies. “Why not?”

Ominis’s expression turns serious. “Slytherin plays around with dark magic. Anything to do with the Dart Arts should be avoided. It’s too risky”

Sebastian was well aware of Ominis’s distaste for the Dark Arts. His past has caused him to fear dark magic. He could never forget the physical pain of the Cruciatus Curse along with the mental pain of inflicting that kind of torture on a Muggle.

“But what if that scriptoruim holds the answers we need?” Sebastian pleds. Ominis was still pacing back and forth. “What if we can find a cure for Anne-”

“I lost my aunt, because of that place. What would I do if I lost you too?”

Sebastian pauses. Ominis stops moving and is now silent, processing what he just said. The thought of losing one of his only friends pained him. Aunt Noctua was nowhere to be heard and the curse might take Anne eventually. 

Ominis clears his throat as his cheeks are slightly flushed in embarrassment. “I-I don’t want you getting hurt. Let’s just drop this whole scriptorium talk.”

“Fine.” Sebastian reluctantly agreed.

Sebastian’s eyes are fixed on Ominis as pulls out his wand. The tip pulses red and it guides him towards the elevator. Sebastian hears the heavy door close in and his friend disappearing behind it.

End Note: when i have writer's block, i read other books to get inspiration. it doesn't help when i'm in a reading slump :,))

[demiclar]

Home

Home - Ao3

Crow returns to his apartment after a harrowing mission, but everything is going wrong. Saint brings him home.

(On Ao3 I have this as two chapters, but it only fits into one #destcember2022 prompt, so you get both chapters in one here on tumblr. Enjoy!)

Crow lets himself into his apartment with an exhausted sigh. His whole body trembles with the effort of just standing, staying upright and making basic, normally undemanding movements after three grueling days in the field. It’s rare that his scouting work becomes so physically abrasive, but he’s spent the last three days in a game of cat and mouse with what felt like an entire legion of Wrathborn. He’d hit them hard only to be ambushed by more when he least expected it. He’d had to send out a distress call to local Guardians to even repel their forces, and had retreated back to a sniper’s perch while the other Guardians pursued Xivu Arath’s minions. He’d had to lay prone to even shoot, his body too shaky for him to even aim his gun standing.

He’d climbed into his ship, wished it to take him to take them to the Tower and let the paracausal forces take over. He’d tossed off his armor and passed out on his bunk for the short ride back. He felt like a dead man walking for the entire trip back to his apartment. He still feels ready to collapse as he pushes the door shut behind him, locking it with trembling fingers.

The silence that meets him isn’t the balm he’s expecting it to be. For the past few weeks, Crow has been spending much of his time at Saint and Osiris’ apartment. Initially, it was to help out. When Osiris was unconscious, Crow would come by to keep Saint company, to take his mind off Osiris for a while. He’d bring food, or help Saint cook or clean. After Osiris woke, it was much of the same. He’d bring food, or offer to help with little chores or errands while Osiris and Saint were loaded down with work.

Now, however, his relationship with Saint and Osiris has grown to something warm and pleasant. That isn’t to say Saint didn’t care for him before, but now when Crow goes over to their apartment, it’s because they’ve invited him over, which they seem to do every other day, if not more often. They teach him to cook meals he’s never eaten before. He and Osiris discuss the Hive, and Crow’s scouting work. With Saint, he talks about the Eliksni, and how they might better help them adjust to life in the city. Saint and Osiris have invited him into their Dawning traditions, sharing meals, exchanging gifts, watching movies, baking cookies. They’re eager to share the festivities with him. One night, after Osiris had been introducing him to a series of city-made wines and Crow had drank a bit too much, Saint had coaxed him into taking the guest room bed for the night. After that, Saint adopted a way of offering the room up for the night, and Crow has begun to feel at home with Saint and Osiris’ roof over his head, their warmth and care surrounding him.

His apartment is so silent compared to theirs. It’s so dark, so cold. As a relatively young Guardian, his salary isn’t great. The best apartment he can afford that’s close enough to the Tower to be manageable is a tiny studio apartment. To the right of the door that leads in and out are the only two rooms enclosed in the apartment, his bathroom, with a rickety old sink that probably hasn’t been tended to since before the Red War, and a shower with shitty water pressure and hot water that only works half the time. The single lightbulb overhead flickers and goes out when he’s trying to shower, and the toilet has a clogging problem. Beside the bathroom is his storage closet, where he keeps all his weapons and armor. To the left of the door is his kitchen, mostly functional given that the most he uses it for is meals that only get about as extravagant as macaroni and cheese, or maybe a quesadilla if he has the time to make it. His bedroom is a loft that sits over the kitchen. The one dazzling feature of the apartment being the massive windows at the end of the space that look out on the city below. Unfortunately, he’s sure the view he doesn’t often have time to appreciate hikes up his rent considerably, and in the winter months, cold seeps through glass, so chilling he has to go to bed under every blanket he owns, and still he shivers.

The cold hits him as soon as he enters. The city outside is covered in a blanket of snow, but Crow can’t find the beauty in it, not when he’s so worn down by stress and exhaustion. He feels like he’s going to snap, or burst into tears. He lets Glint transmat his guns and armor away, grabbing a loaf of bread from the kitchen and checking over it only long enough to confirm it isn’t moldy before he tears a hunk of it off with his teeth. He grabs the half gallon of milk from the fridge and drinks straight from the carton, hoping the minimal sustenance will be enough to get him through his shower and to bed without passing out.

“Crow.” Glint’s voice is gentle when he appears beside Crow. He turns on the light in the loft, adding a layer of illumination where the only light previously had been the dim light in the fridge. Crow caps the milk and shoves it back inside.

“I’m tired, Glint. I just want to shower and go to bed.” He’s covered in dirt and grime. He’ll need to clean his armor before he wears it again, but even with it off his body, his underlayers are matted down by the mess too. Old blood from injuries since healed clings to his skin. The evidence of fighting had marred him so badly the doorman in the lobby had yelped in surprise when they’d spotted him entering. Had Glint not been hovering at his shoulder, they probably would’ve mistaken him for an ax murderer, rather than a Guardian covered in his own blood.

“Okay.” Glint agrees quietly, his voice hesitant. “I’m just worried about you.” Crow can feel it down the bond, but he brushes it aside rather than acknowledging his Ghost and the complex feelings bound up inside him. He’s too exhausted to even consider them.

He heads to the bathroom, stripping off his shirt as he goes. When he leans into the shower to start it, nothing happens when he turns the tap. Crow feels his body stiffen. He cannot deal with this right now. He leans back, looking up towards the showerhead. Just as he moves in front of it, a burst of icy water spurts from the tap, drenching his hair and his face before it stops completely.

“No fucking way.”

He tries the other taps in the apartment. The bathroom sink sputters for a moment but only a few drops come out of it. The same happens in the kitchen, and by the time he returns to the shower to check it again, the icy cold water in his hair has seemed to seep into his scalp. The apartment has never felt so cold around him, and he feels himself shudder. Tears prickle the backs of his eyes.

“Crow.” Glint’s voice sounds again, and he drifts into Crow’s view, his voice pinched in sympathy.

“What?” Crow snaps, unable to fight the vitriol in his tone.

This is just his fucking luck. He should have just stayed in the field, or in his ship. He could have taken a bath in some half frozen lake and slept it off in his sleeping bag, or in his bunk. He wants to crawl up to his bed and pass out but there’s still blood all over his skin and he’s not willing to make a mess that big, not when things are already going this badly.

Faintly, the sound of music reaches his ears, pounding bass followed by cheers and shouts. Stomping feet sound from above the loft, and Crow presses his back to the wall and sinks down to sit on the bathroom floor. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, but can’t hold back his tears.

“I’m going to call Saint.” Glint tells him.

“No, Glint, don’t–” His voice is choked with tears. He reaches out to stop his Ghost but Glint flits out of his reach. Within seconds, Crow’s faced with a projection of Saint, smiling towards him.

Saint’s smile disintegrates as soon as he lays eyes on Crow, his mouth falling open with clear concern.

“Crow, are you alright? I thought you’d be asleep by now.” The Titan’s voice is filled with worry. Distantly, Crow can make out Osiris’ voice, but he doesn’t catch his words.

“I’m–” He breaks off, rubbing hard at his eyes as he fights to stop crying. He gasps in a shaking breath against his will, and Saint visibly softens, his whole face pure sympathy and concern. “I just got back from the field and I haven’t slept in days. The water’s not working and it’s freezing in my apartment–”

The bathroom light overhead goes out, plunging Crow into darkness. A sob tears itself from Crow’s throat.

“Crow,” Saint’s voice is honey sweet, filled with warmth so opposite to the cold apartment around him, the tile floor biting into his bare feet and the wall against his back, the icy water still in his hair.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with this, I didn’t mean for Glint to call you I just–”

He breaks off into hiccuping sobs. He has to close his eyes against the image of Saint in front of him.

“Stay there, Crow. I will come and get you.” Saint is already standing by the time Crow opens his eyes.

“No, Saint, you don’t have to–”

“I will. I’m coming, Crow. I’m going to take you home.”

Crow hasn’t managed to stop crying by the time Saint makes it to his apartment. In fact, he hasn’t really managed to do much of anything. The first bit of tears he let slip opened the floodgates to devastating sobs, and in the time that he’s been alone with Glint, Crow has collapsed onto his side on the bathroom floor and cried harder than he has since Spider beat him to death on a regular basis.

He feels like an idiot. He shouldn’t be crying, not over something as little as being deprived of a shower, some broken lights, and loud neighbors. But deep down he gets why he’s crying. He knows it’s about much more than the apartment, and the weight he’s feeling is as much in his control as it is beyond it. He’s exhausted, malnourished and dehydrated from being on the run from Hive for three days. He’s covered in blood and dirt, his adrenaline is crashing, and he’s still hung up on the fear of being stalked like prey. He can’t help that he’s crying. It makes sense that he’s crying.

Still, he hates himself for it. He hates himself for curling up on the bathroom floor, laying shivering on the cold tiles, bare from the waist up. The cold drives into his skin until he’s numb, and he sobs and gasps even as he hears Saint knock on the front door.

“Crow? It’s me. May I come in?”

He sends Glint, because he can’t manage to form words. He peels himself off the floor as his Ghost lets Saint into the apartment, even though Saint has his own key, given to him for emergencies. He’s managed to sit up by the time Saint crouches in the bathroom doorway—the room is so small the two of them would hardly fit together—but the soft look on Saint’s face sends him spiraling straight back into sobs.

“It’s alright, Crow.” Saint reaches out to him and Crow practically throws himself into the Titan’s arms. It says a great deal about how far their trust has come over the months they’ve known each other. Crow can’t think of anyone he’d really embrace without second thought, but Saint’s very being is comfort to Crow, and right now he needs all the comfort he can get.

Saint whispers soothing words to him, gathering Crow into his arms. He lifts him up, off the tile floor, slipping him into his arms like he weighs nothing, and he carries them from the tiny bathroom. Saint carries him up the staircase to the loft. He holds Crow with one arm while he sets a towel on Crow’s bed, no doubt having noticed the blood and dirt covering Crow like a second skin, then he sets Crow down on top of it. He cradles Crow’s face in his hands, his palms heavenly warm against Crow’s skin.

“I will help you into some new clothes, then I will take you home with me, yes?” Saint tells him gently, and Crow nods his assent. “You will wash up once we get there, but I do not want you to be so uncomfortable until then.”

Crow swallows hard, but he nods again. For as long as he’s known Saint, it’s still hard not to be blindsided by his generosity. He takes care of Crow as if he were a member of Saint’s own family, embraced and looked after without condition or expectation. Saint’s thumbs wipe away some of the tears on Crow’s cheeks.

A small stack of clothes appears beside Crow, Glint’s doing, and Saint thanks him even though Crow knows he should be the one thanking him, but Saint is ever patient, and constant with his care. He helps Crow out of his old, dirty layers, steadying him when his body shakes and shudders. He helps Crow dress in the new clothes, sliding thick socks onto his feet, helping him into pants and a sweater. There’s still grime underneath, but while they work, Glint transmats a bag onto the floor and fills it with more clean clothes, pajamas and regular clothes, wool socks and the sweater Saint had gifted to him as a Dawning present.

Once he’s dressed, Saint grabs the bag from the floor before Crow can pick it up, and he offers out a hand to steady Crow as he guides him out of the loft. When Crow tries to thank him, or to tell him that he’s alright, really—though he’s still teary eyed and breathing rough—Saint just holds him a little tighter, and shushes him quietly.

The walk to Saint and Osiris’s apartment isn’t long, but it feels like an eternity to Crow. Normally, Crow can walk over in less than ten  minutes. Their apartment buildings aren’t far apart, though Saint and Osiris’ is worlds nicer than Crow’s. They walk for five minutes at a slow pace before Saint lifts Crow into his arms again, and Crow must’ve started to doze off, because the next thing he knows, he’s enveloped in warm air, and the scent of home, Osiris and Saint’s voices in his ears.

“Crow?” Saint’s voice speaks softly in his ear. “I’m going to put you down now, alright?”

Crow manages a noise of understanding, peeling open his eyes to look around. He’s in Saint and Osiris’ bathroom, the tub already mostly full with steamy water. Osiris sits on the tub’s edge, using his hand to test the water’s temperature. Saint lowers him down, setting him on the bathroom counter. He pushes Crow’s hair from his eyes with a fond, sympathetic smile, and Crow can’t help the way he leans slightly into his hand.

“How are you feeling?” Osiris asks him, just as Crow feels his eyes slip closed. The effort to drag them back open is monumental.

“I’m tired.” He mumbles. “And my head hurts. I feel shaky.”

“You haven’t eaten anything in several hours.” Glint reminds him, and before Crow can bring up his little snack from when he first made it back to the apartment, he goes on. “The bread doesn’t count. You also haven’t slept more than six hours in the past three days, and I can’t correct for something like that without reviving you.”

“You will have a bath, you will eat something, and then you will sleep.” Saint tells him.

“I might fall asleep in the bath.”

Saint laughs quietly. “That’s quite alright.” He says, cradling Crow’s cheek with a hand. “I will look after you.”

He unties one of Crow’s shoes and pulls it off his foot. Crow reaches down to help, but he’s hardly untied the laces of his other shoe before Saint gently guides his hand away to do the rest himself. He pulls off Crow’s other shoe, then his socks, and pulls his sweater up, over his head.

“I will go heat up some food. Would you like soup? I believe we have some leftovers.” Osiris turns off the faucet once the tub is full, rising to his feet.

“Soup sounds great.” Crow lifts his head, offering both Saint and Osiris a weak smile. “Thank you for doing this.”

Osiris sets a hand on Crow’s knee, while Saint reaches out to hold his shoulder.

“You will always have a home here, Crow.” Osiris tells him, then gives him a smile. “Try one of the bath bombs, I believe you’ll find them enjoyable.”

A genuine smile crosses Crow’s face despite his exhaustion. A few days ago, Saint and Osiris fell into a debate of whether or not bath bombs were enjoyable, with Osiris for and Saint against, both eager to have Crow serve as a tiebreaker.

“I will.” Crow agrees.

“I will leave you to undress. I will come back to help you once you are ready, if that’s alright?” Saint asks him.

“I can–” Crow breaks off. Part of him wants to refuse, the part of him that needs to take care of himself and not show weakness, but his exhaustion is clinging to his bones, pressing down on him like lead weights. He’s not sure if he could even manage a whole bath on his own. He’s not sure he trusts himself not to fall asleep and drown. “Okay.” He agrees, giving Saint a small nod. “Thank you.”

Saint and Osiris leave the bathroom and Crow eases himself off the counter. He picks out a bath bomb from Osiris’ collection and sets it beside the tub, then slips out of the rest of his clothes. When he eases himself into the tub, the water is hot at first, but as he gets his aching limbs under the heat of the water, a sigh melts out of him, and he lays back against the end of the tub, his eyes slipping closed.

He luxuriates in the heat for a few moments before he retrieves his bath bomb and sets it in the water. It fizzes to life, filling the air with a citrusy scent, and Crow watches it dissolve. It clouds the water until it's opaque, but it makes his skin feel smooth and soft, and it might be the comfort in the face if his stress and exhaustion, but he’s pretty sure he agrees with Osiris on the subject.

Crow’s eyes are nearly closing when a gentle knock sounds on the door.

“Come in,” he calls, and Saint pokes his head in. Crow gives him a tired smile. “I’m so ready to fall asleep right now.”

Saint smiles back, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Baths often have that effect.”

Crow’s whole body feels relaxed. His head still aches slightly, and his body still feels weak from hunger, but the utter anguish and stress that had driven him to tears earlier has faded in the face of Saint and Osiris’ care. His headache already seems to be subsiding when Saint sits on the edge of the tub beside him, tilting his head back to use a bowl to pour warm water over his hair.

Saint washes his hair, running his fingers over Crow’s scalp until Crow practically melts from the touch. He scrubs the blood from Crow’s face and neck, his arms, and his back, and Crow tends to the rest. By the time he’s clean, he feels ready to collapse, but Saint slips out and Crow forces himself to stay awake. He drains the tub and rinses himself off under the shower before he dresses in the pajamas Glint had packed him. When he makes it out to the kitchen, Osiris has a steaming bowl of soup ready for him, and Crow feels more loved than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“Thank you.” He tells Osiris as he sits down at the breakfast bar in front of the bowl of soup. He imagines he will have to tell them the whole story later, not on their insistence but on his own desire to explain, but neither Osiris or Saint ask him about it. They need no explanation, no reason for the warmth and comfort they provide. They offer it without question and Crow drinks it in.

Osiris smiles at him, and Saint wraps a blanket around Crow’s shoulders, hugging him through it.

Saint repeats Osiris’ words as he holds Crow close. “You will always have a home here.”

[sillybabybear]

𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡

🍓 tw // eensie weensie slight death mention

💐 ChuckleTrio // tagged with 🥪༘ ChuckleWriting

🍧 reader details // gn minor reader, child of 🥪!Ted

You were the child of the once infamous Ted Nivison, and despite his violent reputation, you had no qualms with this. Your father and mother treated you well and gave you a good life. Your childhood was fairly normal and honestly idyllic. You knew of your father's past being a dark one which he didn't discuss, and that was fine by you. All you knew was that once he was bad, but now? He was a fantasic father. And you loved him all the same. As far back as your memory would allow, though, you'd never been alone. In dreams and in daily life, an unfamiliar face would show itself, seemingly accompanying you constantly. Your father, at your young age, wrote this off as an imaginary friend.

"Why, kids your age have imaginary friends all the time, kiddo! It's nothing to worry about! Does he have a name?" Your response, sounding more lighthearted now that you'd been assured of your normalcy, was "Charlie! He says his name is Charlie!!"

The familiar name sent a subtle shiver down Ted's spine, but he hid it from you. That night, he texted Schlatt, who was on a similar, reformed path.

"Hey Schlatt..?" he quickly typed, requesting to call, slightly frantic. He'd been keeping this down all day, yet he had a sneaking suspicion there was more to this. Schlatt disagreed, reassuring him, "Ted, it's nothin'. Yer just paranoid. Charlie's been gone for years now. 's a common name, yeah? Its not like he's hauntin' yer kid or somethin'!" Ted heard this comforting rationalization and agreed, and the two mostly never spoke of the ordeal beyond a passing mention as an in-joke.

Charlie, though? He had other plans. All of a sudden, the imaginary friend went from primary school, to elementary. Then, Middle. And...high school. You were also painfully aware of how unusual such a thing was. And so you never mentioned it to you parents, or friends, or...anybody.

"Y/N!" Charlie exclaimed, turning to face you. The light of your laptop was bright against his face. Your eyes shifted from the heavy textbook in front of you to look and see what had him calling for you, and you questioned if he had found anything useful. Hey, this may be odd, but he helped you with homework, so you're not complaining!

"Yeah, check it out." He said, highlighting a specific paragraph. You thanked him and took notes, marking the website for future reference. "No problem, kid! What can I say, im the best in the business."

"Sweetie, Dinner's ready!" Called a blissfully unaware Ted from the kitchen, prompting you to stand up.

"Sorry Charlie, I gotta go." you said, and he responded with a begrudging sigh. "Okay, okay...I'll see you in a bit, then."

"See you, Charles!" And with that, you were off to Dinner, leaving Charlie to think over his current dilemma which he always found his mind wandering to when he was left unattended.

Would he ever be able to pass on..?

Hey, if you read this far, thanks bunches! I dont really write on tumblr, this is my first time! I hope it turned out okay, and sorry for the length, i dunno how to do them fancy cut off things i see other folks doin!! If you have any (polite) tips on writing or formatting, please let me know!! have a nice day/night, ya'll! (also i may do a sequel if i feel the need/its requested)

[willowpenguinwritting]

A random Narlie short story I felt like writing.

TW//////// Self Harm and Eating disorder.

Do you ever fear that something really bad has to happen before it actually gets any attention? - By Me!!!! Not like the Taylor Swift song though. This is from Tori's perspective as I fancied a change in perspective.

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I thought it would be a normal lunchtime. It was not one. I thought that I would eat my lunch, drink some lemonade and then go on a short walk with Micheal around the grounds and for him to comment on the bees whilst I read some Tumblr blogs.

That is not what happened.

I was sitting on a bench with Micheal next to me eating my sandwich when one of my brother Charles's friends came running over to me. It was Tara Jones. She was a very pretty girl whose first kiss happened to be my brother-in-law. I firmly believe it is not too early to say Nichalos Nelson is one day going to be my brother-in-law.

"Tori, Nick's spamming my phone with calls trying to get to you," Tara explained handing me her phone. Her girlfriend wrapped her arms around her and rocked her backwards and forwards whispering in her ear that it would all be ok.

I picked up and the first thing I heard was Nick "Tori, I need to talk to you and uh as soon as possible."

"Breathe Nick, It's all ok," I told him despite the fact my gut was screaming about Charlie at me.

I heard him inhaling and exhaling "I think Charlie is meeting Ben at Higgs right now, I don't know why but he won't answer me."

"Benjamin fucking Cornelius Hope, right Micheal and I will go have a look where he usually is and investigate."

Nick sighed "Why do you know his middle name?"

"Why don't you?" I asked.

Nick responded, "Not everyone stalks Facebook as diligently as you do Victoria."

"Micheal does."

He sighed "You too are an exception to average society."

"I am giving Tara back her phone but we will go work out what is going on.

Nick took another deep breath "Ok, let me know how it goes.I am really worried about him."

"No shit Sherlock, Bye for now Nick."

Nick breathes a Bye as I hang up.

I hand Tara her phone and death glare Micheal. "Come with me, We have some investigating to do."

"The Spoldren Spy Society is back."

I laugh "We never were official before but this is serious." I tell him as he follows me around to the front of the school. Ben is not there.

Micheal raises his eyebrows and leads me to the library. Ben's favourite meeting spot with Charlie when he was at Truham.

There they are the two boys we are looking for.

"Charlie, I just wanted to apologise." Ben stammered looking at Charlie who was glaring at him with his arms crossed.

Charlie snarled at him"Apologise for what?"

"For hurting you, I shouldn't have done it." Ben admitted. Progress in a really shitty way?

Charlie shook his head "Are you talking about the sexual assault, eating disorder or scars?"

"What eating disorder, what scars?"

Charlie laughed "Wow, you really don't seem to notice that you made me hate myself so much that this all happened," He rolled up his sleeves all of his scars clearly showing. "These ones, and the anorexia, you should have come with a disclaimer."

I find myself smiling with pride. Micheal is on facetime with Nick so he can see Charlie too.

Ben's mouth moves but no words come out. I take this as my chance.

I walk out from behind the bookshelf I was leaning against. "Wow,great job Benjamin. Now leave my brother the fuck alone." I smile at him that instantly sets him backing out of the library. Micheal comes out from his spot and hugs Charlie.

Micheal whispers to Charlie how proud he is of him whilst I sit with Micheal's phone and talk to Nick.

"Why is it always before something significantly bad happens before anyone actually pays attention?" Nick asks me.

I glance over to Micheal and Charlie who are discussing my older sister magic and then tell Nick "I don't know, why is my brother-in-law actually a golden retriever?"

Nick had taken a sip of Fanta and instantly starts spluttering, "Who said we were getting married?"

"Does it matter?" I ask

Nick looks at me still spluttering "I was not invited to my own wedding with the love of my life?"

"The love of your life? He can't actually hear you, you know." I informed him.

Nick checked his watch "Tell Char that he needs to start walking back soon as I miss him."

I told him and he instantly hugged me and Micheal and headed out of the school with us and went walking along the toad.

Micheal looked at me "Another case solved by Spoldren Spy Society?"

"If it will shut you up about it I suppose it is," I told him to which he faked elbowing me.

I heard the bell and headed inside with Micheal at my tail and started walking to the common room.

I made eye contact with Ben when we sat down and didn't break it until he pretended to talk to someone next to him.

Micheal who was next to me said "That's just creepy Tori."

"Creepy is the entire point," I told him staring at Ben some more before Micheal handed me an earphone and he started singing along to dancing queen.

That was my lunchtime. Not the same as a normal lunchtime as it was not one. I suppose that on occasion change can be a good thing. That good thing was Charlie standing up for himself. But for now until next time I will be sitting here with Micheal listening to Abba.

Spoldren Spy Society out.

Don't tell Micheal I said that.

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[sukunamylovexoxo]

realization.

collegeau!satosugu x reader. you just wanted to relax after exams, but ended up cuddled between your two best friends.

total wc. 2.3k

warnings. nsfw, afab!reader, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, orgasm denial (only once), threesome, unprotected sex, fingering (m→f), dumbification if you squint, oral sex (m→f, f→m), use of pet names, not proofread. MDNI

a/n. eeekkk!!! first tumblr post!!! pls give feedback i'd really realllyyyyyy appreciate it 🙏🏽🙏🏽 also thanks to my bae @vxqyz for listening to me complain about writing this 😕😕🫶🏽

satoru was standing at the entrance of your room, leaning on the door frame. "you ok? i've heard you tossing and turning for the past two hours. and suguru has been complaining about it to me for what feels like a hundred years!" his tone shifted to a slightly annoyed one, although his annoyance was mainly shifted to suguru.

and he was right about you being restless. you attempted to go to sleep early to make up for the loss of sleep due to your previous all nighters. you had spent the last few nights studying for exams non stop. after finally taking the exams and putting your studying to use, you decided to reward yourself with some much needed sleep.

but there was only one problem. recently, you had been plagued by sudden feelings for both satoru and suguru. you had known the two since you three were children, practically growing up together. so how could you just now start developing these feelings? or more accurately, how could you just now start acknowledging these feelings? since you didn't have the courage to tell them, or anyone else for that matter, you had been suffering in silence. forced to endure and examine the hardship by yourself.

although you never verbally confessed or even discussed these feelings, the boys noticed a sudden shift in your behavior. previously you were clingy to the two of them, calling them little nicknames like "'toru" or "sugu" or constantly laying on them or being close in general. as of recent, you had been spending more time in your room or out of the apartment you three shared. you stopped calling them their respective nicknames, and were less touchy."mm, yeah, i'm fine. just having a hard time sleeping," you mumbled into your pillow. you laid on your stomach, face down into your pillow. you wore your simple pajama attire, an oversized shirt and shorts. satoru raised an eyebrow, very clearly not believing you. he sighed, walking into the room, kicking the door shut and sitting on the bed. he laid down onto the bed, you being crushed under his back. if it was anyone else, you might've pushed them off. but it was satoru, so it was relatively normal.

"c'mon, i can very obviously tell you aren't 'fine.' speak." he spoke in a soft yet firm tone, twirling your hair around one of his fingers while he awaited an answer. you sighed, turning your head so your cheek laid on the pillow. "it's just.. stuff. nothing to be worried about."

satoru let out a chuckle. "stuff. do you really think i'm gonna accept stuff as an answer?" you let out an annoyed huff, shooting him a quick glare. "look, it's.. complicated." you were glad you weren't making eye contact with the white haired boy, you would probably flush on the spot. "complicated enough not to tell one of your two best friends?" another annoyed groan left your lips.

"don't pry into it." you said harshly, instantly regretting your tone. "woah, what happened with you?" satoru asked with a slightly shocked expression. he wasn't expecting you to just snap at him like that. you sighed once more. "look, i'm sorry. just.. promise not to laugh at me, mk..?" you had pushed him off so you could sit up in your bed, back against the headboard.

"promise." satoru said with his signature smirk. you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for your own humiliation. you began your confession. "so.. umm.. the reason why i've been so on edge lately is because.. i realized i like two of my friends..." satoru raises an eyebrow in faux confusion, fighting the smirk wanting to spread on his face. "go on.."

you took another deep breath. "and.. we've been best friends since we were kids.." you paused, giving up on being secretive. "ugh, whatever.. look, i think i might have feelings for the two of you.. you and suguru.." your face feels embarrassingly hot, gaze shifting down to the side. the room is deadly quiet, the only things heard being your heart beating rapidly and your heavy breathing.

"you hear that suguru?" he calls out to the door. you sat there dumbfounded. "huh?" just then, suguru carefully opens the door, walking inside and closing in behind him. "i heard everything." he told you with a smirk. your face becomes impossibly hotter. "you.. d-did?"

suguru laughs, sitting on the bed next to satoru. "honestly, i don't think we needed your confession. it was kinda obvious." you decided it would be safest to look down at your bed instead of meeting their gazes. "h-how..?" suguru and satoru share a knowing look. suguru starts listing off many obvious giveaways. "well, for starters, you look at us like some kind of lovesick puppy. it's honestly kind of adorable."

"actually, matter of fact, we both came up with a plan to make you confess. it was painfully hilarious seeing you try to hide from us." although it went unnoticed by you, the two boys were slowly starting to inch closer to you.

satoru chimed up, wanting to join in on the fun. "you practically have hearts in your eyes when you see us. and your sudden change in style. always walking around in those slutty little shirts." he placed his hand on your thigh, causing you to let out a nervous squeak. "and the skirts. they do no justice in covering you up."

suguru leans in closer. "it's adorable. seeing you get all dolled up just for us." satoru leans against your headboard, pulling you onto his lap. your back was flush against his chest, his hands resting on your waist. you squirmed in his grip, causing you to grind down on him. satoru sucked in a sharp breath.

"look at you. all hot and bothered for someone you call your best friend. it's pathetic." suguru's hands begin to wander your body as he speaks. satoru's hand travels under your shirt, pawing at your soft breasts. a faint whimper escaped your lips. was this actually happening? are you dreaming? because you had always imagined this scenario late at night when you were alone in your bed, desperately touching yourself for some kind of relief.

satoru lifted your shirt off your body, discarding it somewhere in the room. he pressed hot, open mouth kisses on your neck while suguru leaned down towards your chest. he opened his mouth, taking one breast into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. you let out a whiny moan, rolling your hips onto satoru's thigh. you gasped softly as you felt suguru's mouth trail lower on your body.

he positioned himself between your thighs, already pulling down your shorts. he blew cold air onto your sensitive clit, causing you to jolt and whine his name. "suguu…" he gently shushed you, rubbing his thumb into your thigh. satoru moved to messily kiss you as suguru pressed one of his fingers into your needy hole. another one joined the first finger, curling against your spongey insides.

you squirmed and moaned in satoru's lap, body jolting whenever suguru would press a soft kiss to your clit. he would begin to use his mouth on you, moaning desperately into satoru's mouth. he pulled away from the kiss, biting on your shoulder as he told you to shut up and take it. as suguru brought you closer to the edge, you whined and pulled on his hair, bringing him closer to your sensitive clit. he would pull away, glaring up at you.

"didn't say you were allowed to cum pretty girl." you whined in disappointment as his fingers left you, insides feeling empty. he sat up and made eye contact with satoru, quietly signaling each other. satoru would pick you up by your waist and position you on all fours. you heard shuffling behind you, excited for what was to come. suguru was also discarding his pajama pants, pulling on your hair so you could look up at him. your eyes drifted down, taking him in. he looked what seemed about 8 inches, cut and glowing an impatient red, leaking pre cum, along with veins pulsing underneath his skin.

"open your mouth." you did as he asked, tongue lolling out your mouth. you swiped little kitten licks to his tip, eventually taking him in your mouth. meanwhile, satoru was positioned behind you, teasing you with his tip. "you want this? you're gonna have to beg princess." you whined around suguru's dick, causing him to let out a soft hiss. you attempted to press your hips back to take him in, only for satoru to hold you in place, giant hands cupping around your waist. his thumbs rubbed your soft skin as he pressed his length inside you, moaning around suguru. you begged pathetically, whining like a little bitch in heat. "p-please toru-! need you-!" you choked out.

suguru grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you off his dick. "fuck, won't last long if you keep sucking me off like that." a mixture of drool and precum leaks down your chin as you look up at him. suguru rubs a thumb on your cheek as satoru begins to plow you from behind. you cry out in a broken mixture of his name along with whines. "sator- toruu..! mhngh!" you cried out, eyes glossing over in pleasure.

his grip on your waist was surely enough to leave bruises, fucking you back onto his cock. you whined and sputtered out into the quiet night air, the only sounds being the filthy actions the three of you had going on. satoru pulled your hair into a ponytail, lifting your body so you were sitting in his lap as he fucked into you. your thighs were spread, giving suguru a perfect view of how you were being manhandled.

as your orgasm neared, you laid your head back onto satoru's shoulder, drool coming out the corner of your mouth. your moans were reduced to incomprehensible babbles. the only thing understood in your jumbled speech being his name. with your eyes rolling back, you came with a loud cry as your walls suffocated satoru's dick. he groaned into your neck, thrusting upwards and spilling his cum deep inside you.

suguru chuckled at how fucked stupid you looked. satoru lifted you off his lap, laying you down on your bed so your head was barely dangling off the edge. suguru gently locked his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you looked up at him with lovey cock-drunk eyes, a stupid little smile on your face.

suguru lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, slowly pressing himself into your already cum stuffed pussy. you whined weakly, squirming beneath him. satoru gently lifted your head to press himself in your mouth, fucking your face. they set a pace where you were never empty. one pressed to the hilt, one pulled out to the tip. you laid there, moaning weakly as the two friends used your body to their liking.

satoru held both sides of your head while suguru had one hand on your waist, the other on one of your breasts. he brushed his thumb over your sensitive nipple, making your body jolt. you tried to speak, only coming out as muffled mumbling with the way satoru was using your mouth.

"look at her, taking her two best friends like a slut. didn't know you were so dirty. pretty little pussy is sucking me in." your eyes rolled back at suguru's words, whining around satoru. the vibrations on his sensitive dick caused him to hiss out. satoru decided to join in on the teasing, giving you a smirk.

"you're enjoying this, aren't you? touched yourself at night thinking about it while your friends were in the other rooms, didn't you? we noticed. your little whimpers are so adorable." you were so out of it you didn't even notice the embarrassing information he had just told you. all you could think about was the way suguru abused your sensitive g spot, and the way satoru messily used your mouth.

"'m gonna cum," you whined out pathetically. both suguru and satoru sped up their thrusts. you came with a strangled cry, the two friends spilling their cum inside you. after coming down from their highs, helping you along yours, they pulled away from your body. you laid limp on the bed, breathing heavily. satoru went to get you some water, suguru grabbing a few damp washcloths to clean you up.

after the bedsheets were changed and everyone was cleaned up, you laid down, cuddled up with the two boys. you were thinking about the recent experience when satoru's words finally clicked in your head. you instantly sat up, face burning hot. "u-um, satoru..? is what you said.. true?" you glanced down at the bed, not wanting to make eye contact. he chuckled softly, tilting your head up with his index finger and thumb. "of course. i wouldn't need to lie to my pretty baby."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, suguru stealing one too as satoru pulled away. you sputtered in embarrassment. "w-well, u-um-" suguru cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. "shhh. don't worry about it. you need to rest." he pulled you so you were laying down once more, back pressed against his chest. satoru buried his head in your breasts, pressing innocent kisses to the soft skin.

you fell asleep peacefully, cuddled between your two best friends, knowing that the relationship between the three of you would be together now. and not just as friends.