#Also Ivy is DEFINITELY going to kill them. Maybe not right now but rest assured she will poison Tucker eventually.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

DPxDC requested prompt (#7)

(@bearerofendlesspain You know... Only after writing this whole thing do I realize that I had read this prompt wrong... WHOOPS! I read it as "Poison Ivy and Tucker are eating blood blossoms to extinction." and not as what was likely intended which seems to have been more along the lines of... "Batman rogue: Poison Ivy. Conflict: Tucker is eating blood blossoms to extinction." ... Which in this particular context are way, WAAAAAY different ideas! I could have saved myself a lot of distress if I had read it correctly... >.> But ah well! Whoops! Hope you enjoy this anyway! Thinking about a plant going extinct like this was quite distressing for me to write! :D)

"Hey. Thanks for helping me out with this, Tuck. And you know... For keeping all of this a secret from Sam." Danny smiled in appreciation to Tucker as they began to break ground with their shovels. "She would probably HATE what we're doing right now!"

"Yeah, of course, dude! It's no problem at all. The more we get rid of these blood blossoms here in Amity Park, the better it is for you and all of the ghosts in the area! Besides, I never want to even think about having to eat another one of these things ever again!" Tucker shivered at the memory of having to eat blood blossoms to save Danny and Sam's lives.

With that, the two got to work killing the bush of blood blossoms. They were digging to expose the roots so they could tear the plant from the ground whole. That made things easier when they would shove the entirety of the plant into a plastic garbage bag along with the other blood blossom bushes they had already uprooted. Once they were done with this area, they would take all of the bushes they had uprooted over the course of the day and bring them to an incinerator where they would destroy the plant- burning the flowers, stems, roots, and seeds all in one fell swoop. They had to make certain to destroy the whole plant, including the roots and seeds, just to make sure that there was no chance of the bush growing back from just its roots or more bushes getting planted in their place. They had been making good progress in wiping out the blood blossoms in this area. They just had a few more to uproot here and they could move on to the next area! They had been at this for months and were getting pretty close to their goal of exterminating blood blossoms in the whole of Amity Park!

But just as they were pulling this bush from the ground, a beautiful red-haired woman started charging towards them. "What do you think you're doing!???" she roared. The woman was clearly frantic.

Danny and Tucker glanced to one another. "Removing a bush...?" Danny answered, not certain what was going on.

"'Removing a bush' ... Alright, kids, stop what you're going and step away from that 'bush' right now!" She demanded. And while Danny complied, letting go of the plant and backing away, Tucker didn't and instead began to haul the shrub from the ground.

"Come on, lady. We're just removing some weeds. This isn't anything to freak out over." Tucker turned to roll his eyes at the woman where Danny could see but she couldn't.

"A 'weed'? A 'WEED'!!? You really don't have any idea what you're doing do you!? Do you even know what these 'weeds' are!?" The woman was obviously distressed, and growing more agitated by the moment.

Tucker let out a flippant breath. "They're blood blossoms, duh."

"Yes. And this specific species of blood blossoms are native and endemic to the Amity Park area!"

"Okay...? So what?" Tucker wasn't entirely certain what she was talking about.

"And they're an endangered species!"

"Oh... I- I didn't know!" Danny swore, suddenly feeling bad about what he and Tucker had been doing.

"So?" Meanwhile, Tucker had the opposite reaction. "What are you, a botanist or something? Who cares if these blood blossoms go extinct?"

"Yes. I am a botanist..." Danny was watching as the horror on the woman's face was slowly turning into fury.

"Tucker...? I think that you should just leave the plant alone..." Danny cautiously advised.

"What!? After all the work we've put into killing off all of these stupid flowers? Now you're starting to sound like Sam! We've been at this months! No way I'm stopping now!"

"MONTHS!???" That was the absolute last straw. These children have been exterminating these poor, defenseless, endangered plants for months!? Dr. Pamela Isley- more famously known as Poison Ivy- had heard enough. These boys were going to pay. "You might not care about these flowers dying, but I do! The land- The Green does! You need biodiversity in order to have a healthy ecosystem, and these flowers play an important role in that! You can't just go around, carelessly digging up and killing innocent, endangered plants without there being... Consequences."

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc prompts #dc x dp #tucker foley #danny fenton #poison ivy #pamela isley #For the record if Tucker was eating them it would only be out of obligation because Danny asked him to. #I purposefully didn't mention whether Ivy's skin is green here or not. If she has the green skin and the plant controlling powers #just pretend that she's wearing makeup to make her skin look normal because she knew that she was going outside of Gotham. #People in Gotham usually don't question it but people outside of it certainly do! #Also Ivy is DEFINITELY going to kill them. Maybe not right now but rest assured she will poison Tucker eventually. #Also I am SO sorry for making Tucker into such a villain in these! It's not intentional I swear! #I like Tucker just fine! PLEASE give me a request where he can be the voice of reason! #Good luck to the kids tho lol

[heathsbitch]

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

ii. A NEW FRIEND

          Shock, amazement, wonder. All three emotions raged through Ivy's mind. She was speaking to the leader of the Peaky Blinders and in Birmingham! Her father had spoken about them a lot. He always complained that they were getting too big for his liking. He told her that they were a group of gangsters, cut-throats, that doubled as book-makers. He said that they were called the 'Peaky Blinders' because they blinded people with the razor blades stitched into their peaked caps. Ivy had always held a type of curiosity about them and now, she was finally meeting them. It was obvious when the girl thought about it. She knew that she was in Birmingham because of the accents and the smell, a man called Tommy saved her, and it was probably a razor blade that was in the hat. The pieces all slipped into place. But she was also confused for what felt like the hundredth time that day. 'Why would a gang of cut-throats and thieves save me?' She just didn't understand. Maybe her father was lying just because they were his competition? Either way, the girl was grateful that they took her far away from London, even if they were a bunch of strangers. After all, if they couldn't be trusted and were going to kill her, wouldn't they have done it already like Tommy said back in the bedroom?

Her thoughts came to a fast halt when she heard a knock at the door. "Come in." Thomas Shelby ordered. The first glimpse of ginger hair was all Ivy needed to know that it was Finn who had just been beckoned in. He had his eyes on the floor, was he always like this? "You can come closer, Finn. She doesn't bite." Thomas ordered the boy. Finn came closer to the pair but still remained at the bottom of the steps. "Aunt P-Polly is here to see you." He stuttered. "Take Ivy and introduce her to everyone. Make her feel at home, Finn." Thomas instructed and gestured to the small girl before him. Finn nodded, agreeing to his orders and Ivy followed him out of the door. Up close, Finn towered over the girl. He held maybe a foot over her in height but despite his height, Ivy didn't find him intimidating in any way. Thomas stopped the teenagers before they could get all the way out, "Ivy. If you have any questions, I'm sure Finn will be happy to answer them."

"Okay. Thank you, Thomas." She responded before walking out of the door. They walked back into what was definitely their betting shop. Now, only four people remained: three men and one woman. "Um, I've been asked to introduce you all." Everybody's heads snapped towards Finn and Ivy. They all waited for Finn to speak. "This is Arthur, my oldest brother." A slim man with a moustache nodded to say 'Hi' and the girl returned his gesture with a smile. He then pointed to the man with the wonky hat and pout "That there is John, my other brother." He winked at Ivy and a red tint appeared on her face."This is Isaiah, he's the son of the preacher." A tall boy with dark skin walked up to the pair. He raised Ivy's hand up to his lips, bowed and kissed it. She snorted at the action and whispered a small, "Hi." Finn finally pointed to the woman in the room. She was fairly short with curly brown hair. She was standing next to John. "This is Esme. She's John's wife," Ivy gave her the same smile that she had given to Arthur earlier. "And everyone, this is Ivy." The people in the room gave her a nod or a smile and she returned the favour. "I'm Finn, as you can probably tell," He laughed when he spoke. "I'm the youngest out of the four brothers." Ivy's eyebrows furrowed, "Four?" she questioned as he had only said that John and Arthur were his brothers. "Yeah, four. Me, John, Arthur and Tommy."

"Oh, Thomas is your brother." He just nodded as a simple reply. "I also have a sister, Ada. But she lives in London." The small girl smiled at the thought of a good family, a safe one. Something she had longed for for a very long time.

Everybody else in the room went back to their previous conversations and Ivy continued to talk to Finn, she thought that he seemed sweet, kind. "So, how old are you and Isaiah, then?" His eyebrow twitched at the mention of Isiah's name. "Sixteen." He told me. "I'm fifteen, sixteen in a couple of weeks." She said to him. 'At least we have a few things in common.' A blanket of awkward silence rested over the teens. None of them knew what to say next so, Ivy tried to fill the silence, but she regretted the question as soon as it tumbled from her lips, "Do you guys actually blind people?" She mentally slapped herself for her stupid question. Luckily, Finn wasn't looking at the girl any more because her face contorted into one of regret and embarrassment. "What?" He chuckled at her question, she didn't think that he heard it. "It's fine, forget it." She replied all too quickly. "No, no, I wanna know now." He persisted and looked into her icy blue eyes. She, reluctantly, repeated her question "D-do you guys actually b-blind people?" He didn't laugh again and answered it seriously. Finn didn't look offended or confused at all which was a mental 'Hooray' for Ivy. "Um, sometimes, if we need to. Our job isn't all about blinding people though. We're book makers but sometimes we need to get our hands bloody." He didn't seem phased by the question at all.

"Have you ever blinded someone?" She mentally slapped herself again. 'Why am I asking these stupid questions? He's going to hate me.' She mentally scolded herself. Finn snorted, maybe he could see the regret plastered across the poor girl's face? "No, I've always been 'too young' for that kind of business." He made air quotes when he said the words 'too young'. Ivy's head bobbed when she listened to him, she liked his accent. It was slightly softer than a cockney one. "Have you ever done anything like that?" Blood; covering every crevice of her once-pure mind. The memories came back again. The bodies came back again. Ghosts and demons followed her every move, ever since that day; even before she had run away...

"Why did I say that? You're a lady of course you haven't." He placed his head in his hands. "You'd be surprised," The girl responded simply. Finn's eyes widened. "What?" She asked, worried that she might scare him off. "Don't look so scared," He assured her, "I'm fed up with all the prissy, whiny girls 'round here. It's finally nice to meet a girl that can actually stand up for herself." A grin emerged on her face. "Thanks."

"Do you wanna go sit in the house? It's a bit loud in here." She nodded at his proposition. "Sure." Ivy followed him into the main house and what she assumed was the living room. It was dark and followed the scheme of the rest of the house; dusky furniture with an orange tint in the air. Two plush sofas rested in the centre, all partially illuminated by the light of the fire. Finn seemed to be gaining more confidence the more that the pair spoke. "Are you close to your family?" He asked her as they sat on one of the sofa's together. She tensed at his question. "I-i'm sorry Ivy. I-i-." She cut him off. "It's okay. You don't need to apologise to me, Finn." The girl could've sworn that Finn had got closer to her as they talked, but she thought that it was probably just her mind. "Did you have a boyfriend? Back in London?" Her eyebrow rose in suspicion, "I-I'm just trying to fill the silence and get to know you better." He defended himself but stuttered in the process. "Some would say that you're trying to flirt with me, Finn." His entire face turned to the brightest shade of red, even the tips of his ears changed colour. "N-n-no. I-i was just curious." All of his confidence flew out of the window. "Relax. I was joking." He nervously laughed but still pursued an answer to the question. "So did you?" She grinned and licked her lips, "No, my father would scare all the boys away." She didn't want to explain further.

Finn nodded, as if understanding the girl's struggle. "Yeah, I can relate to that. All the girls are scared of me, being a Shelby and a Peaky Blinder scares them all away." She gave him a sympathetic smile and put her hand on his shoulder. "They say girls are attracted to 'bad' boys, Finn." A voice startled them. The teenagers both bounced away from each other. Thomas stood at the door with a smirk. How long had he been standing there for? "I'm going out to deal with some business," There was that word again, 'business'. She could tell he threw that term around a lot; so did her father. "Arthur's in charge so behave you two." He slipped out of the door and they both looked back at each other. The pair didn't move back to their original positions, they sat there, more awkward silence blanketed over them.

Somebody burst through the doors, causing their heads to snap towards the noise. "Jesus. Who died?" Isaiah joked as he came in, referencing the un-lively nature of the room. He sat down on the couch next to Finn and Ivy. It was a fairly small sofa which meant that Ivy was sandwiched in between the boys. "You're name's Ivy right, kitten?" Isaiah asked the girl in a strong Birmingham accent. "Yeah." She simply responded, slightly taken back by the nickname. Ivy's heart thundered against her chest, surely this couldn't end well.

They talked for a couple hours. They laughed and joked. By this point the boys had brought in a spare bottle of whiskey from the kitchen. They were swiftly making their way through it whereas Ivy took light sips, not wanting to get too drunk in front of people that she'd just met. The boys didn't care about that fact though and alcohol worked its way through them; intoxicating them more and more with every gulp. They no longer had a filter on what they were saying. Ivy had learnt that Isaiah was a bit of a lady's man. Well, he liked girls, he liked them a lot. "Wait, so you're saying that even if you loved the girl, you still wouldn't let her take control?" Ivy quizzed the preacher's son. "Yeah, I'm not sexist, kitten, don't worry. It's just the thought of having a girl so in love with you, that you're irresistible to her; the thought that she would do absolutely anything to please you."

"You guys are fucking weird." Finn downed his drink in one. His jawline became more prominent when he threw his head back. They sat in silence for a while; it was warm and comfortable. They were still sat on the couch with their heads thrown back. The boys both had their legs wide open and a glass of whiskey in hand meaning Ivy was very squished in the middle of them. "Ivy?" Finn started, "Yes, Finn?" His head turned to face the girl, she could feel his hot breath on her face. "Don't suppose you can sing, can ya? I love a girl that can sing." She laughed at his comment, "I can actually, I think. I used to sing all the time when I cleaned the bakery for my dad." Isaiah joined in on the conversation, "Give us a little sing-song." He encouraged. "Fine," She complied and stood up, "But don't complain if it's shit." The boys hadn't moved from their previous positions but they looked so tempting from this angle, the alcohol was clearly getting to her. 'Seriously, you need to drink something to satiate your thirst.' She scolded herself once again and reached for Finn's glass first. She necked his drink then she stole Isaiah's. They both looked at each other, eyebrows raised. It was a song Ivy had heard Ezekiel's wife sing before, it was a beautiful song. She just hoped she could do it justice. Ivy used her feet as a beat and began to sing.

"Like a river, like a river Shut your mouth and run me like a river, How do we fall in love? Harder than a bullet could hit you, How do we fall apart? Faster than a hairpin trigger,"

Ivy put as much emotion as she could possibly muster into singing. She thought of all the pain her parents had put her through over the years, all the tragedy and petty feuds between them. The song lasted a couple of minutes and when she was finished the boys sat there in silence. Ivy hung her head in embarrassment, of course it sounded terrible. "That was really bad, wasn't it?" She asked them. "Fuck no, Ivy. That was... well it was incredible." Finn stood up and gave Ivy a hug as a single tear slipped from her eye. "Thank you." It had been a long couple days and the girl just wanted to sleep. Isaiah hugged her when she sat back down on the sofa.

The next few hours passed quickly as all three teens had passed out from the whiskey. But their slumber was cut short when someone had come bursting into the room. Arthur had woken them up by shouting incoherent words. "Arthur, slow down." Isaiah tried to calm down the eldest Shelby brother. His hands rested on Arthur's shoulders and quick breaths left his mouth. After a couple more breaths, he forced out what he was just shouting about.

"Tommy's been taken to hospital."

iii. HOSPITALITY

MASTERLIST

#finn shelby #harry kirton #michael gray #finn cole #alfie solomons #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #smut #fluff #treat you better

[shmende]

Growing Out Of It: Pt. 2 - The Unknown (Shawn Mendes)

In which old school friends reunite yet again and talk about their feelings - former (or maybe not so former, after all?)

Warnings: none, again. Just still very, very slow-burnish. Hope you stick with me through it all. Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the last part!

4.5k words

I’m also painfully aware that John Mayer did not participate in writing WWYITM, but it fit into the storyline. So let’s just go with it. Hope you enjoy!

https://shmende.tumblr.com/post/181690998981/growing-out-of-it-pt-1-the-unexpected-shawn

_____________

The following week, I went shopping with Ivy.

“That dress looks great on you. Eric will flip,” I assured her, lounging on the bean bags at Urban Outfitters’ dressing rooms. We’d been here for an hour now, looking for the perfect outfit to win Ivy’s ex back over, or at least make him see what he’s missing out on, or something; I really didn’t know anymore. Ivy looked enviably great in every outfit (hours in the gym will do that to you, apparently) but she wasn’t satisfied yet. 

“You know what, Lace? You should get a new outfit too. You’ve been moping after Nate for too long now, it’s time to get back out there.”

Oh. If only she knew I hadn’t been occupied with Nate in the slightest, or at least not as much as before. Although I did call him that night when I didn’t dare text Shawn and yeah, alright, I felt bad about it. (It also hadn’t helped that Shawn actually followed me on Instagram last Thursday.) And I was rapidly starting to grow tired of this cluelessness. Why on earth had he been so persistent about getting my number if he wasn’t going to text anyways?

“You’re right, Ivy,” I stated suddenly, stoically, and opened my purse. My friend behind the curtain squealed in happiness, going on a monologue about how we were going to go clubbing on Saturday, get her Eric back and find me a guy and, “Let the double dates ensue.” 

I definitely didn’t want some guy to take up Nate’s place in our quartet yet, but I stopped myself from finishing that thought and unlocked my phone. Maybe it was time to finally get some answers. I typed,

Hi, Shawn. This is Lacey Windsor. Teddy gave me your number, hope it’s not a problem. Anyways, I was wondering, since we didn’t really get to catch up that day, would you possibly want to grab a coffee with me some time? Happy to hear from you, Lace :)

I pressed send before I could change my mind and watched the message go from delivering to delivered to read in the space of five minutes. I stared and stared and stared until the typing sign came, then jerkily locked my phone like his reply could sting me.

As Ivy pulled the curtain to the side, dressed in her own clothes again, my heart was still beating way too fast.

“I’m taking that last dress. Now, we’re gonna look for you.”

And look we did. Ivy at the clothes, me at my phone. I was checking it incessantly, fiddling with my fingers whenever I didn’t have it at my beck and call. Pun intended. I tried on a few short dresses that weren’t December-in-Toronto-appropriate at all, but I didn’t really care that much anyways. 

With every minute that passed I realized he’d leave me on read. He’d really, after sitting next to me for almost all of High School, kissing me back on our last day and then asking Teddy for my number two years later, leave me on read.

I spent 60 dollars on a red body con dress out of anger. Nothing better than a short dose of impulse-buying to cure (boy-related) problems. Ivy noticed my unusual silence when we were on the Metro and I wordlessly handed her my phone, which had been unlocked and on Shawn’s chat for about an hour now. 

“Oh my god, why the hell are you pissed? He sent the nicest response!”

I perked up. “What? When?”

“Look!” Ivy handed it back with a big grin on her face. I didn’t even take note of that, too focused on the grey message box beneath my blue one. Five minutes ago. My heart pounded in my ears.

Hi, Lacey! So good to hear from you! I was actually pretty disappointed when we didn’t get to finish talking last Sunday and I would love to grab a coffee with you, but this time without Teddy maybe? I’ll be back in Toronto on Friday, are you free around five-ish?

“I didn’t even know you saw him again, Lacey! Not to mention that you wanted to meet up with him! What’s with the change of mind?”

I looked up from my phone and locked eyes with Ivy. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t talk, didn’t want to talk, I was just happy. Fully back in time when I was almost 17 and Shawn had put his hand on my thigh after telling a joke and I’d had to conceal my blush by coughing obnoxiously loud. I grinned idiotically.

Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “You have a lot to tell, missy.”

The rest of the week was spent panicking. I worked on Wednesday, actually calling Teddy to ask if she could make it before six, before the dinner business started and she rucked up at four in a big coat and fur boots. Fake, of course. 

I had anticipated asking her about every single thing she knew about Shawn, everything he’d told her about his career, his inspirations, his muse. Was there a girl in his life? Was this more than a friendly catch-up between former classmates? Was this a date?

But then, when she sat in front of me, I couldn’t ask any of that. I needed to know from him. I needed to know if he also hadn’t been able to get that kiss out of his mind. Or the possibility of it happening again and again and again.

Teddy told me I was turning crazy. And she was probably right, so I did the only thing I could think of. I sat in my tiny room and looked out the window, sipping on some white wine and contemplating which building Shawn lived in. It had to be one of those skyscrapers from downtown, where else would a super star set camp?

On Thursday, I invited Ivy over after work to cook some dinner and finally start on our bioinformatics project. The things applying to Teddy also applied to Ivy. She knew a lot about Shawn’s life beyond the surface. They’d known each other ever since middle school, way longer than we had and they’d been through thin and thick. Now, with him travelling the world, the contact had obviously lightened but he still made an effort to see her whenever he was in Toronto. And apparently, that wasn’t the only thing he’d been making sure.

“You know, Shawn’s a nice guy. Don’t ruin it with him.”

I stopped stirring the sauce to take a surprised look at Ivy. “Sorry?” She looked up from the bio text book we’d gotten from the library and pursed her lips.

“That’s actually quite far from what I’m trying to do.”

Suddenly, she waved her hand dismissively and dropped her gaze back to the book. “Yeah, you’re right. Just…forget I said something. I shouldn’t’ve.”

“No, wait.” I continued stirring. “Are you referring to the kiss? Because he agreed that it was a mistake.”

Silence. I tested the spaghetti, then I stirred. Again. “Ivy.”

“No, it’s just...ugh, he’s gonna kill me.” She squirmed in her seat and a lump rose in my throat. What had he said to her?

I stared at her with wide eyes. Expectation. Anticipation. Whatever. “Ivy, tell me.”

“He’s...He- well, he asked me about your relationship status yesterday.”

It felt like being punched in the gut. A good punch, though. Like things were falling into place, but not in the way I’d expected them to. Not two years later and not because of a dumb booty-call my favourite customer-slash-friend had planned. I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if, all that time ago, I hadn’t declared the kiss a mistake before Shawn had gotten a chance to put his cents in.

“And what did you say?” I tried acting nonchalant, but my unsteady voice betrayed me. Ivy’s eyes were unreadable and I resorted to stirring the sauce again.

“I said you were fresh out of a break-up.”

“What? It’s been three months! It’s not that fresh.”

“You called Nate twice last week.” I glared at Ivy. She shrugged. “I’m just saying, don’t screw it up, Lacey. He doesn’t deserve half-assery.”

I felt offended, but didn’t find it in me to disagree or defend myself. Because Ivy was right. He had enough on his plate as it was and I shouldn’t mess with his head. Not that I had particularly intended to, but I did have a kiss somewhat planned, just because I wanted to feel his lips on mine again. Even if it was only for closure. And I shouldn’t do that if Shawn was out there asking Ivy about my relationship status while I was talking to my ex on a regular basis. No matter how infatuated I thought I was with him. Or used to be, really. 

It occurred to me then that I didn’t even know if he was anything like he used to be in school. I didn’t even know if he was still late for a lot of things (like English lit class), still liked to sneak sugary foods everywhere he went, or managed to light up a room simply by entering. There was so much knowledge to be had that I realized I didn’t even know him at all these days. And how could I like someone I didn’t know?

_________________

On Friday, Shawn and I were supposed to meet at LLV at five thirty and then walk to Mildred’s for dinner. It had felt a lot like a date when we were texting and so I’d decided to go for it, at least outfit-wise. We were both on time - one of the things that had definitely changed about him - and he’d made sure to compliment my dress as soon as he stepped out of his car. 

Another change. He drove a Jeep now. 

He was also a lot taller than I remembered. 

“I’m really glad you could make it today, Lace. I’m actually going away on a small tour next week.”

We got stopped two times by fans who asked for a photo and dished out the concerts they’d be attending on said tour. He took his time but also respectfully told them he was catching up with an old friend and they let him be then. It was unexpectedly relaxed. 

“So, how is it, life as a celeb? Do you feel any different?” I asked when we sat down at a table in Mildred’s, far in the back and secluded. I had a feeling he’d asked for this table specifically. 

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m still the clueless dude from algebra.”

I nodded and focused on the menu. When I lifted my eyes back up he was already looking at me, his menu discarded on the table. I felt tingly. Seeing him again did some questionable things to me. As did that white shirt of his.

His style had improved a lot since school. And those curls...

I cleared my throat; better not drift into old patterns. Ivy had been right to punch some sense into me yesterday. Looking back at the menu, I continued my questionnaire.

“And apart from academic skills? I’m sure you must’ve experienced a shitload of crazy things these last two years.”

He leaned back in his seat, thinking. “John Mayer gave me a guitar. That was pretty cool.” And once we’d mentioned his favourite idol, he was unstoppable, telling me about the times he’d met him and who else he was friendly with in the industry (I wanted to scream when he said Niall Horan because One Direction), before he dove into how John had come down to Jamaica to write a song with him and how they’d both gotten to perform it during a concert. 

Now, I hadn’t actually listened to any songs from his new album. I was familiar with In My Blood and a few others (Youth because I was a Khalid stan) but I’d pretty much ignored its existence up until the moment I heard him talk about it in person; still amazed at his drive. One thing I hoped would never change about him was the passion. He gave his all, all the time and I found myself wishing I’d bothered to look up his new songs. Especially to know what he wrote about with John Mayer, because, you know, John fucking Mayer wrote a song with him? When I was about to ask him, he changed the topic. 

“Anyways, enough about me. How’ve you been? Ivy mentioned you got into U of T?”

“Yeah, biochemistry,” was all I could muster up to say, because I was still intrigued by his stories while mine was just this: Biochemistry. The science of bodies. Emotions and feelings translated into chemical reactions, rationalized and disfigured. Right now, for example, my brain was flooded with phenyl ethylamine. My nerve cells were buzzing when I looked into Shawn’s brown eyes and I was truly, truly concerned about the fact that his eyes could still cause such a release of dopamine in my body. 

I was whipped. Had this been a good idea?

“Awesome fact: Did you know that men like more open-mouthed kisses because their saliva transfers testosterone into the woman’s body and triggers her sex drive?”

Shawn’s mouth fell open. He blinked. “I - uh. I did not. Know that.” He cleared his throat. 

My face got hot. “I- yeah, I read about a study last week. Pretty interesting actually.”

Gratefulness struck deep when the waiter came to bring our food right then. I dug into my pasta and Shawn, still the breakfast for dinner kinda guy, got to work on his pancakes. I told him a bit more about life as uni student, especially the being broke aspect and the sleepless nights when living with roommates. He didn’t have a roommate but he definitely related to the long nights spent worrying about life. 

He really wasn’t that different from the way he used to be. Stardom hadn’t changed him. Sure, it had broadened his views, his opportunities - he had seen and done a lot of things I wasn’t even capable of dreaming about - but he’d stayed grounded. Inspired, enlightened, not once condescending.

Two hours into our meal and when we were long done with eating, but had kept ordering drink after drink (I wasn’t sure how I was going to afford it all, but the time with him was all worth it) Shawn addressed the elephant in the room, looking at me over the rim of his glass.

“You never told me you were with someone. Actually, you never told me anything after...you know,” he paused, searching for the right words. “After we graduated.”

I offered an uncommitted shrug. “I tagged you in the post I made on my old Instagram.”

He raised his brows. A wry smile. I pursed my lips, loosening the air that was filling up in my lungs. Too tight.

He sighed and leaned forwards. “Look, I wanted to apologize about the thing Teddy said at your work. Ivy told me you’re fresh out of a relationship and I just want you to know that I respect that. And I’m sorry.”

I nodded slowly, looking down and fiddling with my straw. “Yeah, thanks. It’s not as fresh as she makes it sound to be honest, and I know I kind of overreacted back then.” I raised my head and met Shawn’s gaze. “I’m not repulsed by you, just so you know. I was a bit - thrown off the rails, if you will.”

The smallest of smiles lingered on his lips and it seemed like hard work to keep it there. He looked away. There was so much left unsaid between us that it twisted my insides. Had he liked me back in school? Had he returned the kiss all that time ago because he’d been wanting it for just as long as I had or had it been a casual one-time thing? What was it like right now? Did he spend his nights sleepless because he wasn’t just worrying about life but also because he was with someone?

I tried to gauge Shawn’s silent stare but I was left clueless. So I jumped. 

“You were my first kiss, you know.”

My voice was thick with emotion. Norepinephrine, my favourite neurotransmitter was doing its thing; anxiety crept down my spine, my blood pressure rose, heart beat frantically. And Shawn was still fucking mute. 

I looked at my glass. Swallowed. “I liked you so much back in school.”

The tension was impenetrable for what felt like a long while, until he finally said, “I had no idea, Lace,” with a strain in his voice. He set his glass down and leaned on the table with his forearms, shoulders square and tense and intimidating.

“Just one question: Why’d you call it a mistake then? The kiss?”

I shrugged half-heartedly, not meeting his eyes. “I was scared. And I wasn’t about to hand you my heart just so you could take it away with you to wherever that world tour of yours - that career - was going to take you.” I crossed my arms, leaning on the table too and looking at him again. “Plus, I didn’t even know if you liked me back.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to my lips (which had my heart beat out of rhythm for a moment or two) before locking eyes and finally saying something, calm and firm. “But that’s the thing, Lace. I did. I liked you a lot.” 

Then he grinned.

And there was something so warm about him that I felt flushed, utterly overheated and embarrassed and most of all, stupid. “Oh.” I replied, staring into his all-too familiar face that suddenly didn’t seem any different than it had two years ago and wondered how I had managed to waste so much time just because I’d been afraid. Afraid of being rejected, being forgotten while he was away and mostly, afraid of letting myself fall. 

He loosed a breath. “Yeah. Oh.” Then he took a sip of his water and tilted his head with a smile, lessening the unbearable tension. The atmosphere was somewhere between open doors and wasted opportunity.

No. 

I hadn’t wasted my time, I’d been in a perfectly happy relationship and I didn’t regret it. But it was over and I was excited about the future now, even more so than usual, and I started grinning involuntarily at this evening’s developments. The one question I had on my mind, the question I’d been asking myself all week and all day, every time he’d complimented me on my dress, my hair, my smile, my “nerdy” biochemistry knowledge (uh, thanks) and my arguably weird talent of curling spaghetti on my fork like I was born Italian: Was there any chance that Shawn Mendes still liked me?

Maybe just the way that I still found myself liking him?

“Sooo,” I started, straightening in my seat to get some answers, not really excelling at the Teddy-Geiger-drawl, but instead at her typical look of mischief while Shawn stared, just as apprehensive. “Since you know my relationship status and because of equality purposes and because I deleted my Facebook years ago and can’t exactly check your profile anymore, I was wondering if –“

His lips curled knowingly and, eyes glinting with relief that this was what I had on my mind, he quickly cut in, “I’m not with anyone,” with a quip in his voice and I could barely contain a squeal from building in my throat. Playing it cool - obviously - I rested my chin on the palm of my hand and nodded, trying to conceal my grin. “Uh-huh, okay. So, that’s - that’s good to know, I guess.”

And then I erupted in a panicked laugh because my stomach was going crazy just from looking at him and I badly, desperately, needed him to stop looking at me the way he was too. Suggestion, possibility, opportunity. It was all there.

Suddenly, I was glad that Teddy had tried to set us up. 

“You know what, Shawn? We should totally get out of here.”

And so we grabbed our coats, fought for the bill for a moment like a couple from a stupid (but actually great) romance movie until he took off running to the bar to pay for everything, leaving me alone with an idiotically opened mouth. He patted my shoulder when he came back (which was truly romantic) and laughed at my sheepishness. Of course he’d try to pay after I’d joked about the state of my finances multiple times. I made a mental note to get him a little something, maybe a nice textbook about the chemistry of love, just so that he could read up on the things that he was doing to me right now.

It was freezing outside and the both of us kept our hands inside our respective pockets, not wanting to encourage anything, even though I liked to suspect that his mind was spinning just as much as mine. When he stopped at my apartment building, admittedly after I’d given him very low-quality directions and we’d had to turn around twice, I felt like I’d travelled back in time. I jumped out of his Jeep as fast as possible, physically restricting myself from reaching over the console and grabbing his face. Instead, I put my arm on the open door and looked back inside. 

“So, for future reference, right? When exactly are you leaving for tour and how long will you be gone?”

His eyes squinted like he’d stubbed a toe. I smiled half-heartedly, trying to make it better. I’d been the one to let him go the last time without so much as a goodbye and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. 

“I’m leaving on Wednesday. And I’ll be back for Christmas before I’m gone again.”

Christmas. That was three weeks. It seemed doable. 

I nodded, smiling for real this time, and tapped on the top of the car door. “Okay, rockstar. I’ll see you soon.”

Then I turned around and walked away, hoping that soon would come quicker than Christmas.

________________

Ivy called me on Saturday morning, asking how the “date” had gone, if we were all set and clear and friendly now, which, yeah, I definitely hoped so, and if it’d be okay if Shawn joined us tonight, since he’d been wanting to hang out with her all week.

Right, clubbing with Shawn. No biggie. Absolutely not.

Soon had come a lot earlier than Christmas.

The shower ran for hours, as did the iron. That red body con dress needed to be spotless. I had actually contemplated not wearing it at all now that I knew Shawn would come, but Ivy had convinced me to “not give a fuck” and “just enjoy myself”.

“He’s not gonna look shabby, either.” She’d said matter-of-factly and really, I couldn’t disagree. He never looked shabby. Especially now that he had a stylist and all.

So I sucked it up, put my hair in a half-up, squeezed into the dress and put on some extra red lipstick to match it.

At ten thirty, I sat on Ivy’s couch, a glass of wine in hand and wrapped in a fuzzy blanket when the doorbell rang. Ivy got up, leaving me with her roommate Tess and Tess’ boyfriend Ethan. We were meeting the rest at the party.

U of T’s department of biochemistry had rented out the Everleigh to celebrate the faculty’s 110th anniversary, which meant that every single one of my fellow uni students would be there. Already was, actually. Ivy and I had decided to skip the first few hours and only join when the party was in full flow and then later see where the night took us. The Same and Uniun were both only two of the viable options.

Shawn and Ivy took ages to come to the living room and I couldn’t listen to Tess and Ethan making out anymore. The two had already indulged massively in their cups of vodka. I wriggled out of the blanket and creeped out of the living room and there he was, standing in the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of something, probably vodka (that had been his favourite in school) and wearing a white shirt as if he knew how much I liked it on him. Just like those black skinny jeans.

Ivy spotted me first, slurring, “Good that you’re here. You need a drink!”

“And you should lay off the drinks, babe,” I laughed and met eyes with Shawn, ignoring Ivy’s scoff.

“Hi,” I said, taking a step closer to hug him. He let go of me shortly after and I was glad for it. (The physical contact was suffocating.) “Hi yourself. You look…incredible.”

I grinned, “Thanks, man. Looking good yourself,” and fist-bumped his shoulder. Ugh.

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. We hadn’t exactly talked about what was going to happen after yesterday’s revelations and how we’d act around each other. Sure, we’d basically admitted to liking – having liked – each other, we’d made sure the other was single, but what now? Were we acquaintances since we technically hadn’t seen each other in two years? Were we friends? Were we on the brink of something more than friends?

I clicked my tongue, discarding all the questions. Probably not the best move, but definitely the easiest. Shrugging, I said, “Anyways, there’s a couple making out in the living room. We should probably stay here.”

Ivy’s phone rang and she exited the kitchen with a mumbled, “Hi, Eric.”

Shawn raised his brows, probably knowing all about their recent crisis. “How often have they broken up now?”

“Don’t know. Three times, maybe?” I shrugged, noticing his brusque tone and turning to make myself a drink. “I guess some relationships just aren’t that easy. And some definitely have more drama than others. Cheers to that?”

We talked about uni then, the faculty, how I’d even gotten into biochemistry (limited math skills required, mostly) and how much of a coincidence it was that Ivy had decided to go for the same program. I told him that I’d listened to his new album for the first time last night (cue a shriek of offense from the man himself) and how much I’d liked it. I had even bothered to look up which song he wrote with John Mayer and I’d been outright shocked that it was Where Were You In The Morning. Actually, that whole song had caused me sit on the edge of my bed with a dropped jaw.

Shawn was not innocent.

After my fourth shot, I became daring. “You know, I just keep wondering why she left if she apparently had that much of a good time with you,” I said, raising my shoulders slightly (and mockingly). It was an honest concern of mine.

Shawn leaned forward, eyes narrowed and challenging. “Thin ice, Lacey.” Then he took a gulp of his drink, throwing his head back afterwards and grimaced. Pure vodka.

“Don’t make me show you.”

____________

Thanks again for reading, liking and reblogging! xx

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes oc #shawn mendes x oc #fic #shawnmendes #shawnmendesfanfic #shawnmendesfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawnmendesfluff #shawnmendesangst #fanfic #writing

[robininthelabyrinth]

Coldwave au idea: Lens life is better (dad is dead, mom stayed, etc) micks life worse. Their 1st meeting isnt big event for Len now but Mick is obsessed. Stalks him for right moment to have Len forever. Nabs Len. Makes Len his. Dark happy ending

I am so sorry, anon. I promise I will write you something nice and dark at some point. But I tried three times and every time I tried, it got fluffier and fluffier and fluffier until you have what you see below.

ao3 link (i.e. Harley Quinn fic 2)

   ———————————————————————————–

Lewis Snart is a corrupt cop with a sideline in Family work.

He’s also an incompetent thief, relying on suggestions from his nine year old son to fix his plans, but he refuses to admit such a thing. And so it is, when Len unexpectedly falls sick with a flu that robs him of his voice, he shrugs and does without.

He fails.

The Families have no patience for failure.

Lewis Snart is gunned down in his own house, before the horrified eyes of his son and his infant daughter.

Len’s foster home - both his and Lisa’s, a kind-hearted couple who fell for her golden curls and couldn’t bring themselves to tear her away from her sobbing elder brother - makes him get so much therapy.

That’s probably what makes him decide to become a shrink, really.

And that, in turn, is what leads to -

Well.

Everything else.

“- and that’s why I need your help,” Len concludes.

The woman in front of him looks utterly bewildered. Len’s not sure why; he thought he’d been perfectly clear.

“Should I start again?” he offers.

“Please do, mister,” she says, raising a hand up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, wait a sec. I gotta few preliminary questions, stating off with how’d you find out where me and Ivy were hanging out, anyways?”

“Really good fertilizer has a higher toxicity rate than normal soil,” Len explains. “I got the last two geological surveys, which Gotham gets with startling regularity; this was the only place that changed. Next question?”

“So that’s how Bats keeps finding us,” she mutters crossly. “Damnit, Ivy.”

“Maybe if you suggested she start a few new gardens each time instead of focusing on just one?”

“She doesn’t want to leave her ‘babies’ alone for that long. Second question: what in hell made you think that finding me ta ask for help was a good idea?”

Len blinks at her. “Why not? I have a problem and I need assistance from a colleague, and - as I said - you have the most expertise in -”

“I’m Harley Quinn, sweetie,” she interrupts. “I’m a supervillain.”

“What, and you stopped having your PhD as a result?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had my license revoked,” she says helplessly.

“Don’t mean you got a lobotomy and forgot it all.”

“Fair enough,” Harley says, clearly giving up on convincing him. “So, yeah, start again, I wasn’t listening on account of thinking you was nuts. What’s your issue again? And why am I the best person to help you?”

“Okay,” Len says. He wouldn’t be as good a shrink as he is if he wasn’t patient and willing to go over things multiple times. “I’m a licensed psychiatrist specializing in severe disorders among the criminal population -”

“Same as I was,” Harley agrees.

“Yeah, and also like you, I specialize in self-identified supervillains.”

“Tell me you didn’t get a job at Arkham!” she exclaims, horrified.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Len assures her. “I work in Central City.”

“I guess that’s better…”

“Debatable. At least Gotham has an asylum, even if it is Arkham. We just have Iron Heights regular wing and Iron Heights supervillain wing. Not ideal for therapy, even once they’re out.”

“Out?”

“Iron Heights is something of a revolving door,” Len says. “Again, much like Arkham, but more urgent in the exit strategies. Honestly, in my view, it’s all for the best that they get out; most of my patients are definitely not being helped by confinement in a frankly abusive situation by people who don’t understand their particular needs -”

“No kidding,” Harley replies enthusiastically. “Even Arkham doesn’t care, it’s more about tryin’ ta keep ‘em from society than it is about actually taking care of ‘em and trying to make 'em better -”

“Exactly,” Len exclaims, nodding. He knew she’d understand. “The interaction of the superhero culture with the particular neuroses of these individuals results in -”

“- an entirely new pathology, necessitating by definition a different form of treatment -”

“This is why I came to you,” Len says, pleased.

Harley paused, flushing a little. “Well, I guess I do still take somethin’ of an interest. So you treat supervillains?”

“I actually have a rather unorthodox approach,” Len says. “Central City supervillains are often using their supervillainy to work through deep-seated issues - one is dealing with the loss of a younger brother he built much of his identity around, another is a clinical narcissist, yet another is a diagnosed pyromaniac with anxiety issues…”

“Yeah? You getting anywhere with 'em?”

“Actually, yes. In contrast to the traditional approach, which emphasizes care in a clinical setting - one that many of them reject rather, uh, forcefully due to various traumas in their pasts - I’ve taken an alternative approach of working on their issues in their own setting.”

Harley pauses mid-nod. “I know that’s a pretty common technique for patients in regular treatment, mixing with them in their own environments and whatnot,” she says cautiously. “But for these guys - ain’t their own setting supervillainy?”

“It is,” Len says steadily.

Harley holds out a little longer, but he doesn’t elaborate.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she says. “How’re you treatin’ 'em?”

“They’ve created identities as supervillains, and they want to be recognized as supervillains,” Len explains. “It’s important to them. They form entire coping rituals around it. So I meet with them on their own level, acknowledging and respecting them as supervillains.”

“Won’t that require, uh, you being a super, too?”

Len shrugs. “I explained my approach to the Flash - he’s our local cape - and he’s real reasonable about it. We staged a few fights, couple of thefts -”

“Wait. You’re a supervillain?!”

“Technically I’m just engaging in a police-approved therapeutic roleplay with -”

“What’s your name? Have I heard of ya? Tell me I’ve heard of you!”

“I mean, it’s possible -”

“Alias, now! I’m tired of being the only shrink supervillain.”

“Captain Cold.”

“Holy crap, I have heard of ya! You’re the - oh, man, the Rogues! The Rogues are your patients?”

Len nods.

“How?!”

“I 'rescued’ them from prison. Technically, I’m acting as a guarantee for their parole officers -”

“And ya keep 'em from killing anyone.”

“Exactly. And I work with 'em in the meantime. I’ve made a lot of progress - Pied Piper is actually transitioning to working with the heroes on a regular basis, he’s actually dating a cop now and he’s dealing with his internalized self-hatred in a much healthier way -”

“Nice,” Harley says, offering her hand for a high-five. “That’s much better; if Ivy or Ozzie asks what I was doing, I can just say supervillain meet-up.”

Len frowns. “Are they restricting your access to non-supervillain acquaintances?”

“No, no, nothing like that! We’re just dealing with a small infestation of Owls - don’t worry about it; you don’t want to get involved in Gotham’s shit. No one does. Anyway. Tell me about the problem.”

“It’s not really - he’s not - it’s not a problem, really.”

Harley’s eyebrows go up pointedly and she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“Mick Rory,” Len confesses. “Heatwave, our pyromaniac - diagnosed, as I mentioned, and working with a traditional shrink as well as with me. He’s working real hard on getting better, but it’s tough – it’s a long-standing issue. He’s had the pyromania and anxiety since childhood, and then his parents died in a fire and he got blamed, and then things went downhill from there, so you can imagine the rest.”

Harley nods. “Sounds knotty,” she agrees.

“He’s making plenty of progress, though,” Len assures her.

“So what’s the problem?”

“He’s – well. He’s developed something of a crush on me,” Len admits.

“Ooooh boy.”

“No, it’s - it’s not like that. It’s cute. He tries to stalk me sometimes.”

“Stalking ain’t cute, buddy. Trust me.”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s, like, he hides behind lampposts. He pretends to be reading a newspaper, like that hides his face at all. Stuff like that, it’s absurd. And if I ever tell him not to follow me, he doesn’t.”

“So you haven’t asked him to knock it off generally?”

Len hesitates.

“Yep, that’s what I thought,” she says. “So lemme stop you right where you are: no. Don’t do it. Falling for a patient isn’t just ethically wrong, it’s - well. It’s a bad idea. Trust me.”

“That’s why I came to you, actually,” Len says. “You being the ultimate expert in HQS and all.”

“HQS?”

Len coughs.

“…tell me that don’t stand for Harley Quinn Syndrome.”

“If you don’t want me to tell you, I won’t. Won’t change it, though.”

“Oh jeez. I can’t believe it. You know, when I wished on my twenty-first birthday candle to go down in the history books, I ought’ve been more specific.”

Len shrugs sympathetically.

“So what do you need advice in? How not to fall for your patient?”

“That,” Len says grimly, “or else I’m gonna need to give you a referral so that he won’t be my patient anymore.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Harley says. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Harls?” Mick says into his phone. “You got a minute?”

“For you, sweetie, definitely,” she says. There’s the ripping sound of duct tape and the yelling in the background turns into muffled shouting. “What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna bug you if you’re doing something else…”

“Nah, no business or nothing. Spa day with the Sirens, fucking up some bad guys, but the girls have got it covered. Talk to me, baby. You sound upset.”

“I think I’ve done it again,” Mick says sadly.

“Gonna have to be more specific, sparky. Lit a serious fire? Went mano-a-mano with the Flash? Decided to blow up a building?”

“I kidnapped Len and moved him into my basement so we could be together forever.”

“Mick!”

“I left the door open, though,” Mick says earnestly. “I didn’t want him feeling confined or nothing.”

Harley face-palms. Mick can hear it. “Well, that’s something,” she says. “You know he loves you, right?”

“I know he thinks he does…”

“That’s just your anxiety talkin’. He’s dating you because he wants to be with you. S’why he referred you ta me. Tell me, did you at least leave him the key, too?”

“What key?”

“…didn’t you lock him up?”

“No! You know how Len feels about being stuck and unable to get out of places.”

“So you kidnapped him, took him to your basement, and…left him there with the door open and not tied up?”

“I made him dinner, too?”

“…you know what? I’m gonna call this progress. Now, I need you to go sit down and write about what your day was like so we can try to identify what led you to this decision…”

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #my fic #Harley quinn #poison ivy

[storylocke]

Honey GLITched: Meet and Greet: Fusion Style

[While the INVENTOR certainly was rude, he had been nice enough to give her a lot of Poke Balls to start with. Her mind was already buzzing with the possibilities. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a catch...]

INVENTOR:

Do you mind if I ask you a huge favor? There are some wonderful ruins in the Milkshake Swamp I’d like to observe, but I would feel much safer with an escort. Would you mind coming with me?

Honey:

Oh… um… [She’d heard around town how most people found the swamp to be sticky and disgusting, and she wasn’t really at all dressed for such a place, but all she can do is timidly try to raise a hand to ask if he might have something she can borrow.]

INVENTOR:

[Doesn’t let her ask] Good! The entrance is to the north of town. I will meet you there.

Honey:

[Can only let out a sigh as he shoves past her. No one ever listened to her anyway...] Mom is going to kill me if I ruin this skirt…

=+=

[In all honesty, her clothes are really the last thing she needs to worry about once she reaches the entrance. She’s alarmed to hear the INVENTOR arguing with a couple of men blocking the path, when he suddenly turns to her sharply.]

INVENTOR:

[huffs] Honey! You won’t believe this, but these two men won’t let us enter the Milkshake Swamp!

???:

[Bit of a devious chuckle.] Still preying on innocent travelers, Team Fusion? I never thought you’d stoop so low. [The two men seem unnerved by the suave, masculine voice as they turn around. Honey rises up on her tiptoes to look passed them at the young man in white who just left the swamp. The stranger notices her between the orange shirts and gives a smile as he turns his attention back to them with confidence.] I’ve already run off the rest of your gang, so you’ve no reason to stay here. Of course, if you have any need to protest, my Darkrai is itching for battle.

[The low buzzing of voices in her mind suddenly spike at the comment. Darkrai… But such Pokemon were only in stories, weren’t they? Then again, nothing that day had been making any sense. As she was already close to them, she can’t help but overhear the snickering not from within her head, but from the two men in front of her. They don’t seem scared at all as they give each other an oddly pleased glance.]

Grunt:

Our objectives here are complete then. We’ll be taking our leave.

???:

[It seems he heard that as well, and frowns after they run past him. However, he’s more concerned with the “innocent travelers” left behind.] They didn’t hurt you, did they? [They both shake their heads.] Thank goodness. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Blake. I’m a member of the Elite Four here in Tunod. I’ve taken it upon myself to protect travelers such as yourselves at any expense.

Honey:

[slight blush as he takes her hand.] H-honey~ [catches herself as she pulls her hand back.] My name! I mean… I’m called Honey. [she gives a girlish giggle, though it comes out as nervous with the growing embarrassment.]

INVENTOR:

[Does not take Blake’s hand in introductions, but rather puffs up with a bit of pride.] You should know me, I am the INVENTOR! I head the lab up there on the hill.

Blake:

[Gives a nod of affirmation.] I’ve heard quite a lot about you then. What I do not know is why you two are going to the Milkshake Swamp. It’s not exactly the most fun place to be.

INVENTOR:

I was curious about some ruins deep in the swamp. Honey was going to escort me as I have no Pokemon.

Blake:

[Thoughtful, almost suspicious.] That is very curious then. Team Fusion, or those men who were keeping you from entering the swamp, were poking around in the same ruins. [Gives a nod of affirmation, though more to himself as no question had been asked, and gives the man a smile.] Allow me to escort you then to make sure I’ve frightened them all off. I’m sure Honey doesn’t want to be hanging around with two adults anyway.

Honey:

[Did he just dismiss her? Wait, did he just call her a kid?! The little flutter in her chest just dropped as she stares up at him.] Huh? No, no! I don’t mind at all, honestly.

Blake:

[Amused at her enthusiasm, but he just shakes his head.] You’ve only just begun as a trainer, right? You’re still free to explore the swamp, train hard- [points down at the single Poke Ball on her belt] build a team. Strive for your dreams, and be rest assured they’ll come true. [He can see how disappointed she is, so he adds on as he turns away.] Who knows? One day, even we may battle. I’m sure this is not the last time we’ll meet. Come, INVENTOR, for scientific exploration awaits!

[Honey gives a slight whine of disappointment as her researcher companion doesn’t even bother to tell her goodbye. The little blonde can only watch as the pair take their leave, when just after Blake was out of sight, something strange happened. The INVENTOR jumped, teleported really, back to where he stood behind her. Frozen. Honey felt a chill course through her as she stared at him, half hoping he’d start moving again as Percy had. Nothing.]

Honey:

[waves a hand in front of his glassy eyed gaze, but the man doesn’t even blink. She looks to the swamp in slight terror as she goes in.] Blaaaake? [Odd, she didn’t think he’d left that long ago, but he’s nowhere to be seen. She starts to hurry deeper in after him.] Blake?!

=+=

[Blake was right. She really was in over her head with this. Total newbie now up to her neck in mud and who knows what else after she discovered the poisonous ivy that injured her poor new Pokemon. But at least she had heeded his advice to build up her team even if it was with snakes, frogs, and a poisonous plant bulb. The swamp was FULL of visitors though, trainers ready to take her down not realizing what would happen to her if they won. What did happen to her when they won? Though it had happened several times now, she still couldn’t figure out just how she went from a battle out in the fields to suddenly regaining consciousness back in town. The Voices in her head crooned how she didn’t have far to go, but to hurry as They, or she, was dying…. Dying… dying… Jokingly, if she could trust Their tone.

That was another thing to this very long and very strange day she’d been having. As she watched the Budew wrestle match taking forever before her, her mind had started to wander over what could have started this. She thought the Voices would have gone away once she finally woke up, and while as soaked as she was proved she definitely wasn’t daydreaming, They still hadn’t stopped. Before she came down and met her parents though, there was still that strange dream that had started this whole mess. What else could she remember from that meeting? There was something important she’d been missing. The boy, one she hadn’t seen since, said she’d had some kind of “accident.” How there was nothing to stop her from “slipping” again. Is that what was happening to her now? Was she in a perpetual danger of losing her grip on reality? Perish the thought, but it still made her shudder to think about. It was possible though, right? She’d heard stories how her grandfather had heard voices and traveled to “other worlds” but her family also liked to tease he was crazy. A lot of big fish stories from his Ranger days. She did love those stories though...]

Honey:

[Not realizing she’s talking out loud.] Hm… I miss him…

Youngster Alex:

Awww that defeat was crushing!

Honey:

Huh? [it would appear HA had won in a struggle to the death, and she almost felt sorry for not paying attention.] Um… Awesome? I guess? I’m sorry, I really should be going.

Alex:

You suuuuure you don’t want a rematch?

Honey:

No! I’m trying to find someone right now. [Didn’t mean to come so sharply, but she was NOT going to risk another blackout now.] Maybe some other time, alright?

[But which way now? She’d been going in circles for what felt like hours, and if she’d had any sense left, she would have asked someone for directions. Ah, well, it couldn’t be helped. At least she could finally see the massive stone pillars through the trees and hurried as best she could.]

Honey:

Blake! [slows down as she sees who’s with him.] INVENTOR…?

Blake:

[Honestly surprised to see she followed them, but at the same time rather excited to see her. The girl seemed to be quite a fan of his, and now he had the chance to show off for her.] Honey! Perfect timing~! Look up there.

Honey:

[As she’d been chasing him on a rescue mission, she’s officially lost on what to say now that she can see their frozen companion isn’t in any danger at all. Blake’s command to take a look though draws her attention to the man in orange from before.] Team…Fusion?

Blake:

Afraid so. As I suspected, another grunt snuck in while our backs were turned. I think he’s up to no good. [Honey gives a nod of agreement, prompting Blake to give her a cheeky grin.] Do you want to see an Elite Four member in action? [She looks at him in surprise.] Come with me. INVENTOR, you should stay back since you have no Pokemon. Just to be safe.

INVENTOR:

By all means. I surely want nothing to do with them!

Honey:

[Gives a slight squeak as Blake takes her by the hand and leads her up to the large tablet where they quickly attempt to surround the man. Taking a note from Blake's earlier bark of command when dealing with them, tries to get the guy's attention.] Uh… St-stop right there!

Blake:

[As the grunt looks at them both in surprise, Blake smugly shifts his weight to one leg and casually stares the guy down.] I thought I ran you scum off with your tail between your legs.

Grunt:

[Is not intimidated by him AT ALL. Matching his confidence with a grin.] I came back for the information I was employed to get. They’ll welcome me back at headquarters as a hero. I have no time to play games with the League for now. [Before Blake can make a grab for him, he quickly leaps off the side of the steps to go around them and just as quickly disappears.] So long, idiots~!

Honey:

[Manages to catch Blake as he nearly loses his balance off the steps in trying to catch the man.] Are you okay?

Blake:

[That didn’t go as planned AT ALL, but brushes the front of his suit to look not so kerfuffled by the escape.] Perfectly fine. He’s gone now either way, so we should all be safe now.

INVENTOR:

[Hurries up to them all excited.] Good job, you two! It looked like you scared him off good and proper~! I think I’m done here for now after things got so nasty. I would like to thank you though for your effort. You can be the receiver of my latest invention! [Starts digging through his side bag and pulls out a few other curious "toys" before finding what he's looking for.]

Blake:

Oh, I need no thanks, it’s part of my job. But with Honey just starting her journey, I’m sure she would love to have anything you can offer.

Honey:

[Takes the unusual looking device and looks it over. Some kind of weird... microphone? It has a cord so she can loop it over her head.] Huh… what does it do?

INVENTOR:

That is what I call the PokeComm! It’s a device I made that translates Pokemon speech into human speech and vice versa.

Blake:

[Honestly impressed.] Really? That sounds amazing!

Honey:

[It does sound amazing, but she’s not sure what to think after speaking with her Turtwig already a time or two. But! It could be helpful if she ran into other Pokemon right?] Thank you, sir. I’m sure it’ll be very helpful.

INVENTOR:

Good girl. I will be returning to my home now. I’ll feel much happier where I can work in peace.

Blake:

I’ll escort you back then. [Gives the girl a nod.] It was a pleasure to meet you, Honey. I hope you enjoy looking around for a bit after all the trouble you took to get here.

Honey:

I think I will. It was nice meeting you~!

[As the pair leaves again, she’s relieved to see there’s no awkward freeze this time, and takes a moment to look over the surrounding ruins from the top of the stairs. Sure did look like an odd setup, but perhaps there’d been a roof at one point to make it a complete building. She turns her gaze back to the large stone tablet behind her. It’s writing so foreign, so worn, it was hard to believe such an unintelligible hunk of rock was worth fighting over. Then again, she’d never been big on history before, and she almost regretted not even knowing what this place was supposed to be.]

Honey:

[Reaches up to run a hand over the soft carving of a star, a diamond perhaps, as she looks at all the intricate designs.] These ruins really are amazing… But why are they in the swamp of all places?

[Ask and ye shall receive in the worst possible way. No sooner had her hand left the tablet, she could feel a rumble, a shaking, a crack like thunder as everything around her began to be engulfed in a blinding light! Honey rushed her arms up to shield her face, and peered through the light at the various visitors of the ruins. No one saw this? No one even flinched?! Before she could so much as give a cry out to anyone, her whole body was charged with the energy. She could only brace herself, praying the Voices had only been joking about “dying” before, and watched as the world went blank.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't know why INVENTOR amused me so much to have his name in all caps like all the time, but he just seems stupidly proud and quirky enough to do that. Because, you know, he is THE inventor in these lands apparently. Meanwhile, Honey's time in the swamp is uh..... suffering to be honest. We're also getting a few hints to the obvious forced lore that'll be playing a larger role later on. |D;;

Previous Chapters Here

#twitch plays pokemon #blazed glazed #ahuni gg #honey

[haectemporasunt]

26, 32, 33, 39, 43, 44, 50, 10??, 4, 35

26. Favoritepsychological Horror Movie

Ah geeze already a tough one right off the bat.  Um uh I’ll just choose one:

The Babadook! I thought it did a great job of showing the stress the mom was under, and I think (though some people disagree) that it kept the kid from being frustratingly annoying. The picture book was very well done, and scary, and I wish there had been more sequences involving it sharing creepy stories.

32. FavoriteAnimated Horror film

I’m blanking on any animated horror films i’ve seen, sorry! I’ll just post this, which did make me jump, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHpuAAnHdEc, but alas i ve failed you :(

33. Scariestnon-horror movie

 Friday the 13th:  slashers aren’t really horror, fite me B)

Snark aside, there s plenty of movies that had scary bits in them that tore me up as a child. how about I put … the pressure chamber scene in License to Kill. The Bond villain knows one of his men isnt loyal so shoves the guy in a pressure chamber meant to get divers acclimated, you know. And the guy is begging and pleading and screaming in agony as the pressure increases. And he knows what’s going to happen, and I as a kid knew something unspeakable was about to happen, and then the Bond villain cuts a tube leading to the pressure chamber, and we have enough time to watch the doomed man inside gaze out as his head swells to monstrous proportions… and then SPLAT, the viewport is smeared red. The man burst.

It’s that the guy had time to know what was happening to him, and the way his head got so big. (shudder)

39. SomethingI used to be scared of that I now love

i hope you’re not trying to get me to admit that, although when i was little i was scared of it, nowadays i think the xenomorph is kinda hot!! because you’re wrong!!!!!

I do like Phantasm a lot more now than I did as a kid. When I was a kid the silver balls killed so brutally and so suddenly, they were horrible. But now that I’m older I guess I’m more used to sudden death happening in movies? I dunno.

 43. FavoriteHorror novel

I ve searched for years for good horror novels, and if anyone has suggestions i m more than happy to hear em! But one of my favorites is still Shirley Jackson’s Haunting of Hill House. Very well written, you get into the mindset of the protagonist, and it’s not very comfortable in there… I also identify a lot with how the protag identifies so strongly with a place and feels increasingly isolated from the others.

44. ScariestDocumentary

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-SL4ejpP94&list=PLu3Kxnrkh94_qbd5XYXdzze2AYMh8Gd-_&index=4

i’ve wracked my brain but this is the closest thing I can think of. Real documentaries are scary in the numb real life sort of way where you realize that things are getting worse

not really ‘scary’

but anyway, this vid definitely gave me the creeps!

50.  Scariest movie ever

This is a cop out answer because I don’t know the name of the movie, but it scared the heck out of me. It was a haunted house flick, and a bunch of teens investigating it, and i was sitting their gripping my knees at eleven pm watching them get killed by supernatural phenomena. The glass in the windows wouldnt break so they couldnt escape, and I especially remember one scene where there was the stairwell up to the second floor, and the steps just led up into darkness, pure blackness. And at one point the camera just focuses on it, and we enjoy the tingling terror of waiting–something’s gonna happen, any second now, we’ll finally see the spirits haunting the house– and silence.

and then as the teens, unnerved, turn to walk away further down the corridor, it seems like it was a fakeout. Or, since it was an older cheaper movie, maybe just a straight up error.  And then! One of the teens screams like an animal as she falls to the ground and starts getting dragged up the stairs by something invisible. The other teens yelling and crying as they try to hold on to her– and then, in my memory, it’s fuzzy. On the one hand it seems most likely that they pulled her back, and comforted her, and then tried to escape out the garage or something.

but /i / remember her slipping out of her friends’ grasp and choking as she disappears into the darkness. And she’s never seen again.

and that was the scariest thing i ever saw in a proper published horror movie.

10. ScariestWitch [??]

hmm!!!!

it’s me. i am :3

Eh, well, there’s a witch from a children’s story I heard on the radio nearly twenty years ago, a witch who would turn her victims, animal and human alike, into stone, and arrange them in a stone circle up in the mountains. It was terrifying, hearing her horrid laugh echoing over the howling wind … I still think about her a lot. Even at the end of the story, when she’s turned into stone herself, it’s said her last shrieks still echoed around and around inside the stone circle …

4.    Favorite Scary Short Story

I have a more typical answer, and a better but technically incorrect answer because I never managed to find the rest of the pages of the ripped-up book.

The typical answer is: Room 1408, by Stephen King, because it’s the only short story that’s ever legitimately frightened me. How the room shifts subtly, and then not so subtly, and the goofy-when-you-try-to-describe-it-but-scary-when-I-read-it telephone voice blaring out scary nonsense.

The other answer is:

some years ago I was in my uncle’s home, looking through his books. He and I have a similar taste in literature so pretty much everything was a gem. Uncle did sometimes kinda cram his books into the shelves, though, so some got bent or bricked up by other books–which is annoying if you’re trying to survey all your options. So I was yanking out a couple books, when five or six yellowed pages fluttered out from behind some old tome and fluttered to the ground.

I pick them up, worried I’ve damaged a book. But no: these were free floating, they were the wrong size for all the other books on the shelf. And I read them. And they were a story about a man who was a caretaker for an old house. He was also exploring and investigating it on the side, because–the townsfolk claimed–the place was haunted. He walked the grounds, he found cold spots. Things moved when he wasn’t looking. There were secret passages leading to strange rooms. A weird house, to be sure. But haunted? The man scoffed.

And then, in the second week of his stay, he found he could no longer leave the house. The gate wouldnt budge. He would have to find a different way out, or hope that the woman who brought him food would show up a day or two early. I’m not describing this very well but I assure you the atmosphere was dense–I could feel the stress and isolation of this poor man who was rapidly running out of food, and the growing fear that there was indeed something stalking him through the rooms. He couldnt sleep without a light, but it had to be small so that there’d be little fear of it falling over and starting a fire, and even then he would wake up several times in the night to the sound of creaking floors a room or two over.

I was rapt. This is the sort of thing that happens in a gothic story, a guy stumbling across a scary story in a crumbling library. I remember the man was trying to use one of the secret passages  he’d discovered, hoping it would lead off the grounds to freedom. His light flickers, and there’s something in the tangled ivy coating the dank walls …

And that’s where the last scrap of paper ended.

Boy howdy i’ve searched a long time for the rest of that story!

35. Scariestgaming experience

We werent a gaming family, my brother and i, until highschool nearly. The first game that scared me was JumpStart Adventures 4th grade: Haunted Island. it is an edutainment game. Yes, i am rightfully ashamed of my fear.

The island in which the game is set has multiple pathways between the minigames, all dark paths in groaning woods, your feet clattering over crumbling bridges, ghosts whirring past, howling and heavy breaths coming nearer… luckily for me, because i got easily lost both in real life and in game spaces, the game would auto-move you if you clicked on a map the minigame you wished to get to. So you click, your character clipclops along, takes a left, a right, etc, Boom youre there.

but one day, I x’ed out of the map and couldnt figure out how to get it back. this was halfway through a ‘move’ and in trying to get it back i stopped my character mid-travel. So. for the first time in the game i was really deep in the woods with no idea how to get anywhere. i was trembling, i had to keep going, but in what direction?

i kept moving, and i would jump every time a ghost popped up, and (do remember this was a time pre-gamefaqs) i was in deadly fear that something was following me. as far as i knew the game could actually do that.

my parents gave up on me playing the game because the Big Bad of the game, a witch (scary, but not the scariest), flew into the clearing i was in in order to give me a quick minigame, and when she burst into view i screamed out loud at three oclock in the afternoon.

i did not have a good first impression of fourth grade.

and the worst thing to me was not just my cowardice at giving up but, the goal of the game is to save your classmates, theyve all been transformed into monsters. so when i stopped playing i had in essence abandoned them on that haunted island.

i preferred the ClueFinders games anyway, haha

#Anonymous