#you have a temperature controlled screened in porch out back

[thedailycourtney]

I’m house/dog sitting for my neighbors this week. Apart from the walks, I mainly just have to be here at night so they don’t have to board the dogs, but I brought my laptop down to work during the day for a change of scenery. Going through my backyard, they are only two houses down, but the front of their house is on the main road in our subdivision. I’m all set up on their dining room table, which has a big window overlooking the front yard/street. My desk in my office at home also has a big window overlooking the front yard/street. I live on a cul-de-sac with like six houses. It is UNREAL how much quieter it is over here during the day, despite being on the main loop road. I’ve been more productive today than I have in months. 

#granted it's like 658 degrees out #but I have two sets of neighbors directly across from me who are in their driveway ALL DAY LONG #like y'all have some of the only truly private backyards in our entire neighborhoods #and you want to sit in the fucking driveway???? #WHY #it is HOT #you have a temperature controlled screened in porch out back #and decks! #I will never understand it #I must live on the busiest cul de sac in america #who do the most remodeling #or utilize the most yard services #or pest control #or whatever the fuck brings so much traffic #ok that is all

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

Popsicle

Summary: B moving over their chair in the shade so A can sit beside them.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

Warnings: nothing much, brief mention of Marc's childhood, one swear (it's Marc)

Word Count: 1.5k

The day’s hot. The type of sweltering heat filled with a friction that’s going to boil over into staticky lightning this evening. It hangs heavy in the air with the humidity, pressing insistently against Marc’s skin. 

You’re spending the day at a friend’s, fleeing away from the city and into the countryside, gathered on a rickety old porch with cold finger foods and beer and lemonade. 

There’s some rambling going on in the background that Marc isn’t paying much attention to, distant like the hum of a beehive or of cicadas. 

He thinks it might be political or something. He can’t understand, however, how they’re managing to talk about this while the temperatures keep climbing and climbing, weather forecasts issuing one warning after another. 

He wonders where you are. Where you’ve gone off to do and why it’s taking you so long to come back. 

He wonders if you saw the severe thunderstorm warning for this evening and what you plan to do about it and mostly, Marc wonders what’s going to happen to himself when the heat breaks free and the dark sky shatters into two with the harsh strike of lightning rattling the house like a leaf in the wind. 

Someone asks him a question and sets off the nervous fidget of his foot. There’s a shift of movement around him as people rearrange to fit the flow of the conversations better like a current. Your empty seat beside him is taken up and he grits his jaw. 

Trying his best to make it seem like he had been listening all this time, that his silence wasn’t one of ambivalence, and pushing through the way his brain is seemingly melting with the harsh beat of the sun against him and his face, he mutters something that he’s not really sure he agrees with. 

Already, with the help of the heatwave, people are starting to get tipsier than they normally would, and his answer is accepted without a second’s thought. Marc feels relieved, feels the clamp that had started to crawl around his ribs loosen and let go, the fear of having embarrassed you inadvertently, by association, in front of your friends fading into the air like the squiggly mirages coming off the roads. 

The screen door opens again and you come out, sunglasses on your head, a tray of popsicles and ice creams in your hands. 

The sun hits you in a way that makes Marc think you look like an angel, or some sunny fairy-like creature. 

He takes a long sip from his lemonade, hoping to get a bit of a clear head around you. 

As always, when your eyes meet his, you smile. It presses up into your cheeks and moves further into your eyes, like a butterfly migration. It makes Marc feel like a million and one bucks, and some childish part of him wants to press this in everyone’s face and boast. 

Suck it, losers. 

Your friends are ignorant, however, of what they’ve lost, of what Marc has managed to gain and is not letting go of without good reason and there are no good reasons to let go of you. They only murmur some absent-minded thanks as they open up the wrappers, starting to eat the cold treats.

Some of the popsicles are blue, and he delights in thinking of how their mouths are going to turn blue soon enough, and their half-drunken ramblings about politics they have no control over is going to turn that much more ridiculous. 

When the tray is passed to him, Marc makes a point of choosing a clear, coconut-flavoured popsicle instead.

So as to not make an utter fool out of himself. 

The taste is a little artificial, bordering on the edge of too sweet. But it’s cool and refreshing, and if Marc lets it rest on his tongue, it calms down the heat of his mouth enough to bring back some clarity into his mind. 

He wants one of your popsicles though. That would honestly be the best. 

With the hot summer months, you’ve traded in your baking habit for a more timely one. You make your own popsicles now. Blending fruits and herbs together, pouring them into a pink and green mould. 

You’ve managed to work Jake off of his ridiculous sugar habit, from the sickly sweet ice creams and treats he liked to gorge himself on and make Marc’s teeth ache whenever he woke up with the body the next day. 

Marc is about to go back into his daze when he suddenly sees you searching for something. The rapid back and forth of your eyes, darting this way and that, and he starts following your lead, trying to see what’s wrong and how he can fix it. 

He sees the lone chair sitting in the direct line of the sun, sees it not only for that, but for how far away it is from him. There’s a certain urgency that only he can read from your body, and you’ve lost sight of his own eyes and gaze and love for you. 

In a sudden sprout of violence, he feels like punching the idiot of your friend’s husband who came and took your seat, who’s now shouting across the table, spit flying this way and that. 

Instead, he pulls his own chair to the side, and murmurs your name quietly. 

Even in the rattling chatter around the two of you, you hear it, and in a moment that smile has returned to your face, like Marc meant everything and more to you. 

You pick up the sun-warmed chair and come to place it beside his. 

Marc likes it even better this way. You’re closer and that means he can smell your perfume mixed in with sunshine and humidity and your coconut shampoo. It means he can pull your chair even closer to his and make you giggle. 

“Hi,” you say, your eyes wrinkled around the edges and the colour of your irises that Marc has come to know as home, sparkling. You’re eating an ice cream sandwich, a round, overly-large monstrosity of an oreo that reminds him of summers in Chicago, fleeing away from home and into the woods with a sandwich similar to yours melting in his palm. 

He finds that thinking about that now, the cool shade of the tree, much like the one the both of you are under now, the rustle of leaves and the ice cream doesn’t hurt anymore. There’s only sunshine and you and chocolate.

There’s a bit of it caught on the corner of your mouth and Marc brushes it away with his thumb, licking it off. He wishes he could kiss you the way he wants, but he supposes that would have to do, “Hi.” 

“You missed me, didn’t you?” you giggle and laugh, cup his face and follow the line of his cheekbone with your thumb. Your touch places a Cubs-decorated bandaid on something inside of him he didn’t know needed to be healed. 

The people around the two of you have melted into nothingness, as far as Marc is concerned. Your words poke at something inside him, something he’s been trying to share with you more but still falls short sometimes. Just a little grumpily he responds, “Yeah, I suppose I fuckin’ did.” 

“Well, I’m back now.” You make it sound like you’ve come back from a months’ long trip, a trip he didn’t know was going to end. The teasing has dropped from your voice, and your eyes are soft like rose petals. 

Marc curls his arm around your shoulders, pulls you as close as he can to him, as much as the chairs will allow and never mind the heat weighing heavy on the both of you. He kisses the side of your head, “And I’m never letting you go.” 

As you coo and hum at him, he leans down and takes a big bite out of your ice cream sandwich. Nobody around you seems to be noticing what’s happening between you two, as if there was an impenetrable bubble around him whenever you’re close to his side. 

You protest at this, but Marc quiets you with a quasi-kiss to satiate you until you manage to get back in your rooms. It tastes like coconut and chocolate and love. 

He thinks then, that maybe, he’ll manage the thunderstorm that’s rumbling around the molten core of the Earth. 

He thinks then, that maybe, he can manage close to near anything with you, only if you keep looking at him like he can do no wrong, even if he is chewing close to half of your ice cream sandwich. 

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #marc spector x f!reader #marc spector imagine #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight fic #oscar isaac

[deepdisireslonging]

Two More

Another PPV is done, but the Reader’s and Kenny’s relaxing time keeps being interrupted. The Reader thinks up a way to distract him from work.

Pairing: Kenny Omega x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings/Promises: fluff, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging, overstimulation, Kenny being a giver to a fault

Word Count: 1900

Note: Another song-fic for the Summer Playlist! Don’t know why this one took me so long to work out the smut, but now I am super happy with how it came out. Let me know how you liked it with comments and reblogs. Happy reading!

“Notice” by Little Mix

With a huff, you sank back into the couch. Kenny winced and answered the fifth call of the afternoon. While the day had been lovely, it was full of wrestling business. Not a single minute for either of you to catch your breath, much less relax. And now that you were home, the business had followed him. 

“Two minutes,” he whispered to you. To the caller he noted, ‘it’s not a long one, but I’ve got a minute.” He listened for a bit, then his shoulders slumped. “Mr. Khan, is there anyway we can go over details tomorrow? Besides, didn’t we go over them enough today at- yes. A few plot holes, but-“ With an apologetic look, he slipped out onto the back porch. 

You listened to the one-sided conversation through the screen door. Being married to athletic and creative brilliance had its shortcomings, for sure. But you always had a way of bringing you both back to a calm center. 

While he was on the balcony, you sliced cucumbers and put them in water for a refreshing drink later. You made sure the travel clothes made it at least to the laundry room; the floor counted, right? And you went ahead and laid out some games you could play together on the coffee table. When Kenny came back in with the weight of AEW on his shoulders, you handed him the refreshing glass and sat him in front of the gaming system. 

“You’ve been busy. What happened to relaxing?” He smiled as you handed him a controller. 

“It's hard to relax if I know you’re up to your eyeballs in Khan’s strategizing. C’mon.” You bumped your shoulders together. “Let’s unwind for a little bit.” 

It didn’t take long for the ’easy’ game to turn heated. Just when you were finally getting the upper hand, Kenny’s phone rang again. He paused the game.

“Hey-“

“Two minutes.”

“Fine.” Again, you slumped against the couch as he walked out of the room. Earlier when you had arrived, Kenny had cranked up the AC to get the air circulating. Now the temperature had evened out and you were no longer freezing. You shed your jacket. And caught an idea. If this afternoon continued in the morning's pattern, Kenny would need something to drive him to distraction until the phone calls stopped. 

Your husband came back in with one of the most apologetic faces you’d seen. “Sorry about that. Matt and Nick needed-“

“Don’t worry about it. Now sit down so I can finish kicking your ass!”

The pause was too much for you to regain your momentum that round. No worries. You had a better enterprise in mind. It became more tantalizing with each incoming call. At first, Kenny didn’t notice. It wasn’t unusual for you to lounge about in a tank top and your shorts. But when he saw your clothes piling up, his brow would scrunch, trying to figure out your plan. But you would drag him back into the game, or another call would drag him back out. 

Impatience set in. 

“That’s the last one,” he said, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “I promise-“ 

You sat calm as a church mouse as his mouth dropped. While waiting for him in the nude had technically been a few more calls away, you didn’t want to wait that long. 

“What’s wrong baby?” You crooned. Tugging your knees up, you covered your chest. “Are you tired of video games? Would you like to do something… else?”

His head was nodding before he managed words. “Y-yes. No more video games. Uh- did you have something in mind?”

“Mhmm.” You didn’t bother with grace or sha-shaying. Kenny followed you like a parched man to a fresh, cool spring. The bed hit the back of your legs when you turned. His eyes fought to watch your eyes or… everything else. “See something you like?” 

As you sat down, leaning back on your arms to arch out your chest, Kenny’s breath stuttered. “Oh yes. I’m trying to figure out where to start.”

He was just beginning to lean over you when his phone began to ring again. With a hiss, he buried his head into the crook of your neck. You tried to hold him there, but he quickly untangled your fingers from his hair. 

“Boy, you have seriously lost your focus.”

Holding up the screen, Kenny’s earlier delight evaporated. “It’s one of the TNT producers. I can’t-“

“They can leave a message and call Khan instead.” You spread your legs, showing off what you knew would break him. “So, are you going to answer the phone or come fuck me?”

Kenny looked between you and the phone once. He chose correctly and tossed the phone into the living room, slamming the door shut. Then he pounced on you. Here was your passionate lover. 

As he kissed from one shoulder to the next across your collarbone, you purred and dug your fingers into his hair. You helped guide him down to travel from one side of your chest to the other. All the while you softly asked him, “what do you need, baby? Do you want to get behind it? Flip me over and recline us? Undress me just the way you like it?” 

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” His forceful kisses pushed you back onto the mattress. “I knew what you were doing. Tried to resist. But I can never resist you. Especially when you play games like this.”

You laughed, “I know you always see through my tricks. But what’s the fun of wearing nothing if you never notice? Had to get you away somehow.”

“I’m glad you did.” Kenny stopped ravishing you with kisses long enough to take a long look at your face. Beaming. Waiting for his next move. He loved that you could match his energy in the ring and in production, and that you knew just what he needed to revive him. He lightly gripped your chin, guiding you close for a slow, sensual thank you. “What would I do without you?”

“Be a nervous wreck?” You touched your foreheads together. “Stop thinking about today. Open challenge, right here. Take me, baby. Don’t make me wait-“

He silenced you with a sucking kiss to the hollow of your throat. While your fingers re-curled into his hair, his hips thrust at the edge of the bed between your legs. You tried to drag him up so those thrusts would pass to you, but he began to kiss down your body instead. He nuzzled your stomach on the way down, trailing his fingers down to your undulating hips. His lips murmured things against your skin that you couldn’t hear. But it made your arousal buzz all the same. He continued moving down, around where you wanted him. Nipping at your skin, then tugging your legs further apart just so he could kiss your inner thighs.

You whined and tried to roll your heat into his face.

Kenny tutted at you. “I thought you were trying to help me? If I wanted you to sit on my face, you’d be there already.” He glanced up at you, barely visible over your stomach with how low he was kneeling. “But today has been stressful for you too, huh?” It startled you when his fingers gently smoothed over your sex. “And we both know that helping you will help me too.”

Again, you whined. For such an impatient man, he picked the worst moments to take his time. Your mutual impatience was why you worked so well together. “Kenny, please! Just fuck-“

He cupped his palm under you, teasing with one finger. After only a few passes, his finger was squelching in your slick. He watched, enraptured, when he added a second next to the first. Together they curled, scissored, and made you quake and shiver. He glanced over at your hands, watching them helplessly claw at the sheets. When your toes began to curl, he pulled back. Kenny chuckled at your cry of dismay. Resting his chin on his hands on your lower stomach, he waited for your breathing to even out. Then he took his low position again.

“You’ve been edging me with all the calls already,” you panted, “please, baby-“

He kissed over your mound. “Had to get one in. Make sure you were ready for me.”

“As if I’m not ready for you every second of the day?”

With an agreeing grunt, Kenny dove in to eating you out. His arms wrapped tight around your thighs to hold you in place as you arched. As you screamed. As you pleaded. And as your body wriggled, trying to move your sex impossibly close to his face. But he was a master at swallowing you down to your soul, he liked to joke.

“Gonna give it to me, baby?” he asked between noisy slurps. “Gonna flood my mouth? Come on. I thought you issued me a challenge.”

You tried to hold off. You really did. But then he began to suck hard in that way and- you fell apart on his tongue. Kenny rushed to drink every drop. It set a chill zinging across your skin.

The shivering that overtook your body wasn’t just from the impending orgasm. It heightened as Kenny crawled over your body before settling himself between your legs.

His eyes gleamed. “I should reward you for every call you had to wait through.”

You shook your head. There was no way you’d survive that many. And you warned as much.

Kenny leaned down to press his forehead against your feverish one. “Perhaps. But you were so patient. Can you at least give me two more?”

As you gasped with the sensation, he slowly worked his length into your heat. His mouth fell open, lax against your cheek. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck. But when you tried to roll your hips, he didn’t start. Instead, his hands spread wide against your chest. One to the next, he toyed with your nipples. Squeezed and kneaded your flesh. Pinched and massaged. Thrusting only when your whines caught him off guard. But as your need amplified, and your voice caught in your throat, Kenny’s thrusts became erratic. Your body quaked with one release. Kenny stilled, reveling in how you clamped down on him.

He waited for your breathing to even. Then he began to thrust in earnest. You cried out his name, gripping his shoulders. Did you want him to stop and give you a break? Or did you want him to keep going? He felt so good. Between whimpers of delight, you hummed similar pleasantries into his skin. How well he filled you up. To keep going, right there. How only he could make you shake like that. Could he feel how desperate you were to cum?

Your voice cracked under the pleasure. He kissed you deeply, stealing air out of your breathless lungs. As you came, your nails clawed down his back. With a shout that filled your mouth, he spilt into you.

After few panting minutes, he gingerly rotated until he was on his back, with you on top and securely hugged to his chest. He held you, matching your racing heartbeats with his. With a wisp of a laugh, he smiled against your forehead. You whimpered, exhausted and terrified, as he dragged you over his upper chest. With the crook of his finger, he brought you to hover over his face.

“Two more.”

***

***

Masterlist 

Other Kenny Fics: 

Troublemaker (Smut)

Breathless Brat (Smut, Ficlet)

A Cumedy of Errors (Crack!Fic, Smut, Fluff)

#Kenny Omega #kenny omega smut #kenny omega x reader #gender neutral reader #aew smut #aew x reader

[viking-raider]

Of Truth and Justice - Part VI *FIN*

Summary: The battle of the Mother Boxes and the future.

Pairing: Clark Kent/OFC

Word Count: 12,314

Rating: M - Justice League!AU, Language, Violence, Nightmares, Visions, Death, Fluff, Angst, Dark themes, Dirty Jokes

Inspiration: The Snyder Cut and DCU

Author’s Note: It was fine while it lasted, thanks for all the love and support on it! As always, thank you to @wondersofdreaming​ for inspiring me and doing her best to help keep my manic muse in order.

Clark and Calea didn't go back to sleep, they sat on the porch swing and watched the sunrise over the flat fields of Kansas, Clark's arm slung over her shoulders and her head laid on his arm. The screen door beside them creaked open and Martha peeked her head out, smiling softly at the two.

Clark took a deep breath and turned his head towards her, smiling back at her.

“Mornin'.” She greeted them, Calea looking up at her.

“Morning, Ma.” Clark replied, calm and relaxed, even though his mind had been whirl-winding around the realistic nightmare Calea had during the night.

“I got breakfast on the table, if either of ya want it.” She invited them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kent.” Calea answered, feeling her stomach rumble like an earthquake.

Martha smiled brighter at Calea, softly shaking her head. “Just call me, Martha.” She told her, with a nod of her head, and disappeared back inside.

“See.” Clark grinned at her. “Told you she'd like you.”

Calea chuckled, blushing softly. “You did.” She nodded, kissing his cheek and stood, heading inside the house with him, the amazing smell of breakfast beckoning her to the table. “This is delicious, Mrs.--Martha.” She complimented her, smiling at her across the table.

“I'm glad.”

“I'm going to take a shower.” She whispered to Clark, as they finished washing up the breakfast dishes for Martha.

“All right.” He nodded, but his brow was creased at her, sensing something was off with her, but didn't want to push it. “Ma said there was something acting up with her car, I'll check that out, while you do.”

“Sounds good.”

Calea smiled, forcefully, pushing up on her toes and kissed his cheek, before quietly going upstairs to his room, stopping by the still broken bed, half an embarrassed smirk tugged up on one corner of her lip, while a frown of conflict pulled down on the other side. Shaking her head, Calea entered his small bathroom and stripped, stepping into the shower stall and cranking the tap, the shower head came sputtering to life. She wasn't even sure what temperature the water was as it washed over her, a throb rolled up her spine and burst through the base of her skull, like fireworks through her brain.

“Ah.” She whimpered, pressing her hands to the shower wall in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut and tried to ride it out.

She panted heavily, trembling, as the pain only intensified, rocking wave after wave through her body. Flashes of an almost desolate place flashed in her mind's eye, searing the picture of some sort of force field forming over it, like the exposed insides of a leaf, slowly blanketing a dome over it, sealing the rough and darkened buildings inside.

“No, no, no!” She whined out, beating her palms against the wall, creaking the old and worn tile.

Stumbling out of the shower, water still running, she scoured Clark's bedroom for her clothing, dripping wet and all.

“Calea?” Martha frowned as Calea charged down the stairs, storming by her. “Is everything all right, hon?” She asked, concerned.

“No, no no.” Calea replied, thundering towards the front door, nearly blowing it off the hinges as she rushed out of it, needing to find Clark, needing him frantically.

“Whoa, easy.” He startled as she grabbed the back of his shirt, colliding with him. “What's wrong?” He asked, holding her by the shoulders and searching her eyes. “Calea, what is it?”

“It's the Boxes, Clark.” She gasped, eyes unfocused, and trembling. “It's the Boxes, they're charging up. He's starting the Unity.” She told him, between deep swallows of air.

“Steppenwolf has started them.”

Clark's face fell at her words, his own anxiety and alarm spiking. “Are you sure?”

“I have to go.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “I have to go to them.”

“No, Calea.” Clark shook his head at her, cupping her face in his hands. “No, we need to get back to the Hall and inform the League, we need to warn them and get them together. Then, we'll go find Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes.”

“They're calling to me.” Calea replied in an eerie voice. “I have to go to them. They need me.”

Clark's stomach twisted at the sound of her voice and the expression on her face. He pushed her head back to look up at him, but her eyes wouldn't focus, she no longer saw him, or even the farm, all she saw were the Boxes morphing and humming, slowly twisting to meld together as one, while trying to entice her into joining with them, fulfilling her greatest power and potential.

“Fight it, Calea.” He bolstered her, shaking her by the shoulders and trying to get her to snap out of it. “Calea!” He barked, hands squeezing her shoulders.

Calea blinked several times, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to push back against the hum of the Boxes inside her head. Letting out a painstaking groan, she looked up at Clark, gulping thickly.

“We don't have much time.” She rasped, feeling them gnaw at her mind to get back in.

Clark got suited back up and took off with Calea back to the Hall of Justice.

“Where have you two been?” Arthur asked, eyeing Clark and Calea as they came into the hall.

“Where's everyone else?” Clark asked, ignoring the Atlantean's question and look.

“They're down in the lab.”

Clark took Calea's hand, unwilling to be without her, afraid that she would start losing control again. They made their way down to the lab, finding Victor and Bruce leaning over a table. The pair looked up as Calea and Clark came in, instantly knowing something was wrong by their body language.

“What's happened?” Bruce asked, pushing off the table and studying them.

“Steppenwolf's started the Unity with the Mother Boxes.” Clark replied, squeezing Calea's hand.

“We know.” Bruce replied, frowning. “We got the signal forty minutes ago.” He added, sensing something was deeply off with Calea.

“Is she all right?”

“They're calling to me.” She replied, struggling to fight back the gnawing pressure of the Boxes in the base of her mind. “They want...need...me to go to them.”

“Then, it's out of the question.” Bruce shook his head, folding his arms.

“You can't stop those Boxes without me.” Calea told him, bluntly. “I'm what stops them, once and for all.”

“She's right.” Victor nodded, he felt the pull and call of the Boxes as well. “She's the Father Box and the Unity Key. Without her, they can't reach their full power or be destroyed.”

“Look at her!” Arthur snapped, coming into the room. “She's barely holding back from submitting to them already. What happens, when she gets close enough to destroy them.”

“I either destroy them, or they end up destroying me and the planet.” Calea growled at him. “Which gamble do you want to take, Arthur? My life for the world, or the world's life, because you were too much of a chicken shit to take a risk to save it?”

“It's not even your planet.” Arthur huffed, glaring at her. “Your people ended up becoming Darkseid and Steppenwolf's lackeys, that same weakness lives inside of you.”

Calea snapped to Arthur, pinning him up against the wall, teeth bared at him. “I have no weakness.” She hissed. “Unlike you, Arthur Curry; and the Mother Boxes exploit one's weakness.” She whispered, pressing her palms into his collarbones, the blue tint lighting up her eyes as she dug into Arthur's mind and picked out his weakness; the feeling of abandonment from his mother, that caused his reluctance for commitment.

“Calea.” Clark snapped, pulling her off Arthur. “We don't need to be going at each other's throats. It's what Steppenwolf and Darkseid would want; to fracture us, so we were too divided to fight him.”

“Clark is right.” Diana agreed, coming into the lab with Barry and Alfred. “We need to stick together.”

“Do we have any idea where Steppenwolf and the Boxes are, and how it is Calea's meant to destroy them?” Bruce asked, looking around the room, meeting everyone's eyes.

Victor and Calea looked at each other, they knew exactly where the Boxes were, with Victor being brought back with a Mother Box and Calea being the Father Box, they were in tune with the Boxes, and to a degree, each other.

“Yes.” Victor finally replied, looking away from Calea and bringing up a map. “It's an abandoned nuclear site in Russia.” He said, showing it to them. “The amount of radiation it had would be perfect for what he's doing.”

“Wouldn't you run the chance of growing an extra leg out of your neck, with that level of radioactive materials?” Barry asked, concerned.

“Ordinarily, yes.” Victor replied, troubled. “But, the force field Steppenwolf is building around the Mother Boxes, and the Boxes themselves, have absorbed the radiation in the surrounding area.”

“It's relatively safe.”

“Relatively?” Bruce echoed back, lifting a brow at him.

“That's not accounting for the army of Para-Demons he has at his disposal, and the Boxes uniting.” He elaborated, frowning back at Bruce.

Calea whimpered, pressing her fingers to her temples, flashing spots in her eyes. “We need to do something now.” She whined, gripping Clark's arm as she wavered on her feet.

“We're losing time.”

“We need to formulate a plan.” Diana said, leaning against the table and studying the map Victor still had up. “Can you show us what this force field looks like?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

Nodding, the map hologram changed to a live view of the strange dome that was pulsating over the abandoned city, para-demons swarming all over it. “We need a way to get inside of it.” Victor said, scanning the protective dome for any possible weak points.

“What about some good old fashioned fire power?” Bruce asked, chewing on his lip as he studied it. “Blast an opening long enough to slip through, then try taking out whatever it is keeping the thing up?” He suggested, glancing around the table.

“It might work.” Diana nodded slowly, brows pinched with concentration and worry.

“Only one way to find out.” Arthur chimed in, a similar expression on his own face.

“Let's go.” Bruce said, turning on his heels. “Everyone get suited up and meet on the ship.” He threw over his shoulder, before jogging upstairs to get his Batman suit on.

The team scattered to get ready for the fight, while Clark stayed with Calea, both of them already suited up and ready to go. Clark felt antsy about Calea going with them to confront Steppenwolf and the Para-Demons, especially after her nightmare the evening before and the way the Boxes were affecting her at this distance. She felt the same, but wasn't going to let it stop her from trying to stop them from allowing Darkseid onto Earth.

“It'll be all right.” She whispered, looking up into his face, Clark never bothered to hide what he was feeling from her.

“We don't know that.” He whispered back, cupping her face in his hands.

Calea smiled up at him, despite all the agony she was in. “I know that.” She told him, softly. “You said it yourself, the hardest things have a reason for happening.”

“Not like this.”

“Is Superman scared?” She teased him, gripping his wrists.

“Of losing you,” He stared into her eyes. “More than anything else in my life.”

“You won't lose me, Clark. I'm not going anywhere, especially not without you. So, we'd both have to die, for that to happen, and I don't intend on dying.”

“Do you?”

“Once was enough for me.” Clark laughed, pulling her into his arms.

“And I'd rather not try it myself.” She giggled, locking her arms around his waist.

“You two love birds ready to go?” Bruce asked, coming back into the room.

“Yeah.” They both replied in unison, breaking apart and following Bruce to the jet.

The flight didn't take long to make, but it was tense and filled with uncertain anxiety of what they would find and experience once they arrived at the site; and the closer they got the more agitated Calea became, waves of pain continued to ripple through her body in increasing strength, making her break out into sweat as she paced the ship's loading bay, her head throbbing and sick to her stomach. The team was forced to watch her, like she was some sort of wounded and caged animal, waiting for the right moment to burst through the bars of its prison and attack the first thing it could get its claws on.

“The stronger the Mother Boxes become in their Unity and the closer we get to them, the more she's going to suffer and be affected.” Victor said, feeling the same tingle of discomfort, but not nearly the level Calea did.

“She's in a deep battle of wills with them.”

“Let's just hope her mind and will is stronger than them.” Bruce commented, frightened.

Clark nodded, anxiously, as he watched Calea pace, pounding the sides of her fists against her pounding and sweaty forehead. He felt as useless as the rest, “I'm Superman, and the one superpower I don't have is to ease the pain you're in.” He whimpered, stopping her and folding her into his arms. “If I hadn't died, none of this would have happened.”

“It's not like you died on purpose.” Calea mumbled into his chest, locking her arms around his waist.

“But, I knew it was a very big possibility with how close I was to the Kryptonite spear.” He replied, nuzzling the top of her head.

“It's still not your fault, Clark.” She whimpered, pressing her face against his chest as a fresh wave of pain hit her. “None of this is.”

“We've arrived.” Victor informed them.

The craft landed some distance away from Steppenwolf's base, wanting to give the team as much of an element of surprise as possible, since the Boxes undoubtedly knew Calea was close to them, and would soon give that signal to Steppenwolf and his demons.

“Calea, you're going to stay here and wait until we take out as many of the Para-Demons as we can and get the shield down. That way we don't run the risk of them capturing you.” Bruce said, laying out the plan.

“And the farther I am from them, you think the less likely I am to submit to them?” She replied smugly, between clenched teeth.

“It's for your own good.” Clark told her, resting his hand on the small of her trembling back.

“And, the team's.” Bruce added, before continuing. “I'll take the jet and punch a hole in the shield, then locate the tower that's keeping it up. Once the force field is down, the rest of the team can get in there and start smashing heads.”

“I'll see what I can do to help you destroy the boxes.” Victor said to Calea.

“Good, cause I don't have much of an idea how to do that on my own.” Calea chuckled, shaking her head.

Bruce stepped back onto the jet, closing the bay door behind him and got behind the controls. Taking a deep breath in and out, Bruce pulled the aircraft off the ground and started towards the field, praying that his idea on how to get inside was right. The team watched, tensely, as the thrusters on the jet came to life, rocketing the craft towards the glowing orange ward.

Flipping a switch on the control stick, Bruce fired a blast at the dome and let out a semi-relieved breath, seeing an opening appear in the fabric of the ward's makeup, but it only stayed open for a moment, before closing up again, causing him to miss his chance to get inside.

“He's not going to make it.” Victor shook his head, watching Bruce bring the ship back around and start to fly head on into it.

“Is he going to ram it or something?” Barry fretted, shifting uneasily on his feet.

“No.” Bruce replied over their communication wave. “I just need a little more fire power.” He growled, and opened up on the shield with all the guns and bombs the craft had on it, blowing a massive hole in it and flew right through the fiery plume it left behind.

“I'm in!” He snapped, adrenaline really pumping. “Get ready, I'm about to bring down the tower.”

A moment later, a large explosion sounded from within the ward and it started to crumble, like a leaf burning away to nothing. The team jostled themselves, waiting for the last of the shield to vanish before jumping into action, Diana, Victor and Arthur taking off and soaring towards the defenseless city, and with a crackle of lightning and a strong breeze, Barry was gone in a red blur. But, Clark didn't move from Calea's side as they watched the rest of them jump into action.

“Go.” She told him, jerking her head towards the action.

“Are you sure you'll be all right up here, by yourself.” He frowned, reluctant.

“Hey, if I can't have some fun kicking Para-Demon ass, you might as well for both of us.” She told him, gripping his hand in hers, forcing a smile for him, that didn't quite make it.

“Go. I'll be here, ready and waiting.”

Clark looked between her and the sounds of the battle that the League had gotten going without them. “All right.” He sighed, kissing her gently, then took off with a boom of the sound barrier breaking behind him.

Calea frowned after him, antsy and annoyed, she wanted in on the action, but knew that getting any closer to the Boxes too soon could possibly have dire consequences for the team, the planet and her. So, she paced the ledge that overlooked the city, seeing the blue zigzags of Barry zooming about the place, the glittering effect of Bruce shooting at Para-Demons from the Bat-mobile he had brought with him and flashes of things from Clark and Victor, heat vision, arm cannons, the occasionally hyped yell from Arthur, and the few times Diana connected her gauntlets together, letting out a harsh, ringing shockwave.

It wasn't five minutes after the battle began that a sharp and icy cold spike speared through her mind, driving her to her knees with a yelp of pain. She moaned, fingers digging into the debris filled soil, trying to fight the ever increasing call of the Boxes, the images they keep flashing through her mind and the whispers that kept taunting and enticing her to join them. She took deep and gasping breaths, trying to push them out and ignore them, but it was getting harder for her to fight them off.

She groaned and coughed, before throwing up into the dirt and sat back on her heels. “You won't win.” She mewled to the Boxes. “I am stronger than you and everything you throw at me. There is nothing you can do that will make me submit to you.”

“Not even your greatest fear?” The Boxes rasped back inside her mind.

“I have no fear, no weakness.” She growled back, feeling their pressure on her brain magnify, making her eyes water and blur. “There is nothing in me you can exploit. I came to terms with them long ago, they are useless for you.”

“You think that, princess.”

A bubble of strong energy swept across her face, nearly knocking her backwards with the force. Wiping the dirt and tears out of her face, Calea's stomach dropped, the entire city was leveled and nothing stirred inside of it. She struggled to her feet, scrambling to the edge of the ledge and scanned the area, not picking up any heartbeats.

“Clark.” She whimpered, then launched herself off the top of the cliff, racing towards the city, in hopes of finding any one of the League alive and unharmed. “Barry.” She gulped, finding him laying under a pile of rubble, dead.

She picked her way through the city, finding Diana, Victor and Arthur's bodies, all of them dead. Pain and grief ripped through her as she reached the center, where the Mother Boxes were still alive and humming, almost completely one Box, Bruce knelt before them, severely injured, but somehow still alive, holding on by a thread.

“Bruce!” Calea cried out, rushing towards him. “Bruce, look at me.” She huffed, cupping his bloody face in her hands. “What happened? Where's Clark?” She demanded, trying to get him to focus on her.

“He turned on us.” Bruce moaned and coughed, droplets of blood spraying from his lips.

“What?”

“Touch them, Calea.” Clark's voice called behind them as he landed on the long walkway leading up to the Boxes. “Touch them, so we can be one.” He told her with a sweet smile, that didn't reach his eyes. “This is our destiny, why we were brought together. Why we are the bridge between the universe and Earth.”

“Don't.” Bruce rasped, shaking his head at her. “It's a trap. He's been working with Steppenwolf and Darkseid, the whole time. He was luring you into this, lying and manipulating you into completing the Unity.”

“Don't listen to him, Calea!” Clark roared, growing dangerously angry, his eyes glowing red hot. “He's keeping you from your potential, your true purpose in this world.” He barked at her, stepping closer. “He's jealous of us, he wants you for himself. Take my hand and we'll be together, forever.” He enticed her.

Calea looked between Clark and Bruce, confused and conflicted on what to believe, but shook her head. “No.” She barked back, standing up. “No, this isn't real. This isn't true. You're both lying to me!” She screamed, turning in a circle. “This won't work!” She yelled, looking around her, knowing it was an illusion by the Mother Boxes.

“It's real.” Bruce hissed, suddenly jumping to his feet.

“No!” Clark roared, as Bruce leveled one of his gadgets at Calea and fired, hitting her square in the chest and sent her stumbling backwards. “Calea!” He cried, rushing towards her, catching her as she fell to the ground. “No, no. Please, no.” He gasped, watching blood bubble out of her chest. “Why didn't you listen to me! Why didn't you just give them what they wanted!” He berated her, clutching her to his chest, a tear dripping down his cheek.

“Please, I love you.” He whimpered at her, feeling and hearing her heart start to slow. “You're my world, don't leave me.” He begged her as she stilled and grew quiet in his arms.

Clark let out an ear splitting scream that echoed outward, his heartbreak and angry ringing out across the Universe.

Calea clawed at her chest, still able to feel the pain of Bruce's weapon, but found nothing, not a drop of blood or a single scratch. “Oh, you bastards.” She hissed, still on her hands and knees.

“This is what will happen, if you do not Unify the Boxes, Selian. They will all die, as will you.” The Boxes growled back, like nails on a chalkboard. “If you do not do this, this world is doomed, and your love will be lost, an aid to Darkseid, his greatest weapon and General.”

Calea stayed in place, debating on whether or not she should go to the Boxes, what if they were playing her again, they surely were, but there felt like an element of truth to their words and visions as well. Taking a deep breath, Calea pushed herself to her feet, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to regain her balance and center of mind, before a static-y aura sizzled around her and she snapped from the ledge to down in the city. She appeared just as Bruce was ejected from his wrecked Bat-mobile and caught him mid-air, setting him back down on his feet, but as their bare skin touched and a strong pulse thumped between them, tapping into something deep in Bruce's mind.

She gripped onto him tighter, wanting to see it clearer.

It was the same apocalyptic world she had seen in her nightmare the night before, Clark, dark and evil, working for Darkseid, his greatest weapon. Bruce was one of the last Justice League members, trying to survive the desert wasteland. The deaths of Diana and Arthur left only Bruce, Barry and Victor together, followed and grouped with several others, another Atlantean, by the look of her clothing, a man with a white Mohawk and a missing eye, and a long haired man, wearing a SWAT vest and strange make up. The struggling resistance against Darkseid and the world that Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes had created for his arrival. The group argued about something she couldn't hear, but they suddenly became afraid and out of the sky someone landed ahead of them.

Clark.

His expression was maniacal, the energy he gave off, even through the dream or vision, was far worse, unhinged and diabolical. He wasn't the man, the Kryptonian, that she knew, that either of them knew. He had lost his ability to care, his compassion and empathy dried up and gone. He glared at the group of survivors, his heat vision warming up, turning his empty and angry blue eyes a glowing red.

“Clark, please.” Bruce begged him, putting up his hands in desperation. “Don't do this! This isn't who you are!”

“Who I am, Bruce?” Clark hissed back, tilting his head at the Bat. “You would know about who I am, wouldn't you?” He taunted him, taking a step closer to him. “You knew who I was once, before you took her from me. She is what made me who I was. She was the only thing that mattered to me, she was my world, my reasoning.”

The searing hot beams of his heat vision burst from his eyes, melting through everyone behind Bruce, killing them.

“But, you got her killed, and I promised her, I would make you pay, and I will.” He growled, grabbing Bruce by the throat and taking off into the sky.

The vision didn't stop there either, she caught the glimpse of Barry appearing to Bruce through a wormhole he generated, coming back in time. “It's her.” Barry said in a watery voice. “She's the key, she's always been the key.”

“Calea?” Bruce's voice broke through to her. “Calea!” He called again, yanking his hand out of hers, recalling her to the present. “What are you doing down here, we're not ready for you yet.” He scolded her, concerned, as she shook her head, trying to dislodge the images that coincided with her dream and what the Mother Boxes were showing her.

“I have to do this, or we're all doomed.” She whimpered, stepping away from him. “Clark, especially.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce frowned, shaking his head at her.

“The dream you had, about Clark turning bad and working for Darkseid, because of my apparent death.” She told him, meeting his eyes. “I've had a similar one and the Mother Boxes have been showing it to me as well.”

Bruce froze, taken aback by her words. “So, it is possible?”

“It could be, if I don't get to those Boxes and stop them.” She replied, her eyes looking over to the abandoned nuclear tower that Steppenwolf had set the Mother Boxes up in.

“Wait, we're almost done here!” Bruce called out to her, as she started in the tower's direction.

“So are the Boxes.” She replied, before bounding closer to the tower and out of earshot of Bruce.

“We have a problem.” Bruce barked over communication, just as a pair of Para-demons showed up to fight him. “Calea is heading for the Boxes.”

“That's not good.” Barry reported back, zipping around his own Para-Demon problem.

“I'll go and check on her, you guys keep fighting.” Victor replied, powering up his thrusters and headed in that direction.

Calea landed on the walkway that led to the center of the nuclear tower, finding Steppenwolf there with the Mother Boxes and a small swarm of Para-Demons. The pull of the Boxes were a hundred times greater inside the tower than outside of it, almost making Calea dizzy and numb to everything around her, but them. Steppenwolf turned, as the Para-Demons twisted their heads to look over at her, and smiled smugly, seeing her standing there.

“Ah, Princess, so you've decided to join us after all.” He chuckled at her. “Or should I say, Queen, being you would have succeeded your parents after their needless deaths.”

“I haven't come to join you.” Calea replied, sneering at him. “I've come to see you and Darkseid. I won't let you destroy this world or the people in it.”

“Your concern for these puny humans is laughable, Selian. Wasting your potential and power on these mortals, instead of basking in the glory that could be yours.”

“There is no glory in commanding a wasteland.” She hissed back, body tensing against the growing battle of the Boxes and the fight that was about to happen between herself and Steppenwolf.

“If you won't join us willingly, then you will be forced to!” Steppenwolf barked, then hissed at his Para-Demons. “Bring her to me.”

Screeching, the Para-Demons started after her, but Calea stood her ground, growling at him as they neared her, but before they could, she slapped her cupped hands together, sending out a massive shockwave that ripped through the pursuing demons and knocked them backwards, obliterating their insect-like wings at the same time, causing them to drop out of the sky and crashing to the ground below. Steppenwolf growled at the disposal of his minions, gripping his axe tighter in both hands and advanced on Calea himself, raising the weapon above his head.

She was ready and waiting for him, looking forward to battling the monster that had killed her parents and destroyed her home, so many people's homes. She side stepped his downward swing of his weapon and punched him in the side, making him grunt and fly sideways, then advanced on him, hitting him again and sending him back farther.

“Coming through!” Victor yelled, sailing over Calea's head and collided with Steppenwolf as he recovered.

“You think I'm letting you have all the fun!” Calea called back, joining in with him.

Calea and Victor fought back and forth with Steppenwolf, dodging and blocking his blows, while returning them. Steppenwolf tossed Victor off of him and halfway across the tower, before grabbing Calea by the shoulder, picking her up off the ground, her feet dangling as she struggled with him.

“You were never meant to defeat me.” He hissed, steadily squeezing her shoulder more and more, the bones underneath creaking and protesting the pressure.

“Good thing she's not alone!” Diana's voice called back as she and Arthur joined in on the fight.

“Damn right!” Arthur cried in agreement, banging the end of his trident on the ground, three times, before charging Steppenwolf with Diana.

“Hm.” Steppenwolf huffed, tossing Calea over the side of the walkway.

Calea cried out as she landed on her back, all the air leaving her body. She laid there, painfully wheezing as she watched Arthur sail towards Steppenwolf, his trident held out in front of him, ready to stab him through with it, while Diana descended upon him, her sword poised above her head to come down on him. A crackle of energy popped in the air for a moment, before Barry skidded to a stop beside her, kneeling down.

“Oh my gosh, are you all right?” He asked, hands poised above her, but unsure if he should touch her or not.

“I'm f-fine.” Calea wheezed back, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Go help th-them.”

“Right.” He nodded and was gone again.

Calea pulled herself up, panting and shrugging at the soreness of her shoulder and arm, her eyes going to the unguarded Mother Boxes. Catching her breath, she pushed off the ground, jumping up to the landing beside them. Their strength was almost nauseating at this range, but she pushed through it, moving to stand beside them, sparks jumping between the slowly merging Boxes. She reached out to them, the sparks jumping to the tips of her fingers.

“Calea, no!” Clark's voice rang out as he landed on the other side of the Boxes. “Don't touch them.”

Sighing, Calea looked across at him. “It's the only way, Clark.” She replied, feeling it now, the call between her DNA as the Father Box and the makeup of the Mother Boxes.

The only way for her to stop the Unity between them, was for Calea to become one with them, destroying them from the inside out.

“It's the only way.”

“No, there's has to be another way.” He tried convincing her, looking over his shoulder to the team, still trying to keep Steppenwolf occupied. “Let us deal with Steppenwolf, then we'll figure this out.”

“It'll be too late by then, Clark.” She cooed back at him, smiling at him softly. “I love you.” She whispered, before pushing her hands into the active Boxes.

Calea gasped as the Boxes grabbed a hold of her, physically and mentally, her back arching as they all surged together. Clark started forward, as a blast from Calea and the Mother Boxes knocked him and everyone else away, like it wanted to keep them from stopping what was about to happen. The worn and uncared for concrete and steel rebar structure of the tower around them groaned, cracking and flaking, running debris down all around them. Calea tried pulling back from the Boxes, but they only pulled her in farther each time she did, from her hands, all the way up to her elbows. Electricity surged and crackled between her and the Boxes, sending out huge bolts of lightning to strike every surface in the tower.

Her eyes glowed bright blue, brighter than they ever had in her life, as the League watched in awe and frightened disbelief, Calea's strength and pain mounted, reaching an all new fevered-pitch.

“My god.” Victor gasped, mouth dropping open as the Mother Boxes slowly started to shrink in size.

“What's happening?” Diana asked, slack jawed as well.

“She's absorbing them.” Victor replied. “Or they're absorbing themselves into her, I can't tell which.”

The Mother Boxes vanished and Calea swayed on her feet, her chin dropping to her chest as her head throbbed and felt heavier than anything she could describe, then fell to her knees, eyes falling shut. Everything was still and quiet for a moment, no one daring to move, scared that if they did, it would only speed up what was brewing around them.

“Yes.” Steppenwolf finally hissed, standing up and smiling at her, excited for this change of events. “It's completed.” He chuckled, looking to the League. “You've failed.” He laughed at them.

“Calea?” Clark called out, pulling himself up onto his feet.

Her head lifted at the sound of his voice, tilting slightly, as she opened her eyes again, they were still bright blue and alive with the electric power that was stored inside of her, but they didn't stay that way. It was like dropping midnight black ink into water, slowly spreading and clouding until there was nothing left, but darkness. Her glowing blue eyes turned a solid black, but lost none of their charged properties.

“Oh no.” Diana gasped, realizing the Mother Boxes had managed to take full control over Calea, turning her dark. “Calea, no!” She called out, watching Calea rise to her feet, like she was being pulled up by an invisible string.

“Yes!” Steppenwolf yelled back. “Open the portal! Let Darkseid and his forces rule this world!” He declared, gripping his Electro Axe tighter in his hands.

Sparks of energy weaved their way around her fingers and up her arms, like teeny electrical caterpillars. She turned her hand palm up, an orb of blue energy pooled in her hand and then the other one, where she pushed them together and pulled them apart again, like kneading and stretching dough. She turned on her heels and took several steps towards the edge of the central platform, hands wide apart and the ball of energy the same size, before flicking her wrists sharply, throwing the bubble of power out of her hands to suspend in the mid-air to continue spreading.

Within moments the web of energy she created turned into a massive portal between Apokolips and Earth, revealing DeSaad and Darkseid waiting on the other side of it, with an even bigger army of Para-Demons.

“Now!” Steppenwolf roared, a feeling of accomplished victory in the pit of his stomach, his redemption and restorative to his former glory and power. “Kill them!” He ordered her, pointing to the League, behind him.

Calea turned her attention to them and every member of the League tensed, making her smirk at them. She advanced on the first of them that was closest to her, which just happened to be Barry. He tried to charge himself up to get away from her, but as he started to run away, Calea matched his speed, grabbing onto him by his homemade suit, before spinning on her heels, still moving quickly, and let go of him, sending him spinning and spiraling across the room and crashing through the wall on the other side. Shrugging her shoulders and cracking her neck, Calea continued, her eyes locking on Diana and Arthur next.

Diana took a deep breath, not wanting to hurt her friend, but she knew she would be forced to defend herself against Calea's attack.

“I'm sorry.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Not like you will be.” Calea hissed back, darkly.

Diana raised her hands to bring her gauntlets together, but Calea jumped forward, bounding over the space between them and grabbed Diana's wrists, yanking them apart and pulling Diana closer to her, while lifting her bent knee, driving it into Diana's stomach and knocking her back into Arthur. Victor tried sneaking up behind her, but her head snapped sideways, slapping her hand on his metal chest and stopping him, like a mac-truck smashing into a solid brick wall.

“Weak.” Calea growled in a voice that was not her own. “You were created from us, but you are weak, a failure. We do not abide by failure.” She sneered, pushing her hand harder into Victor's chest.

A burst of cold air hit Calea, Clark blowing a long stream of it over her, gaining her attention. She didn't react like she had the first time he blew his frost breath on her. Tossing Victor aside, Calea turned towards Clark and took a deep breath, sucking the icy air into herself, until Clark stopped. His eyes went wide as she let all that cold out through her nose, like the angry breath of a bull. She was completely unaffected by it, and everyone else's attempts to stop her.

“Kal-El.” She chuckled, her force still disembodied. “Last son of Krypton. Join us, reach the same level of power and potential your world has.”

Clark's brows creased and drew down over his eyes, a voice echoing in his head. 'The Mother Boxes exploit one's weakness.'

“I'm your weakness.” He whimpered, the reality punching him in the gut.

“That's right, Clark Kent.” She replied, grinning at him. “Almost six thousand years and the only weakness this Royal Prime Selian has is...you.” She threw her head back and laughed, the sound of it echoed. “Who needs Kryptonite, when we have Calea Stormborn to destroy you, and when she's done killing you, Superman, she will end up tearing herself apart, with the dark and painful memory of killing the alien she loves more than herself.”

The moment she finished the sentence, she was colliding with Clark, sending them both flying backwards. They tumbled to the ground, Clark managing to get the upper hand, pinning her down to the dirt, staring into her pure black eyes, like they were a pair of black holes.

“Fight this, Calea.” He growled between clenched teeth. “You are stronger than this.” He barked, slamming his fists on either sides of her head.

“I am stronger.” Calea hissed back, before striking Clark across the face with her elbow, sending him flying off of her, and got up, to advance on him.

“Hey!” A voice rang out, with three distinct, metallic bangs.

Calea turned, just in time to watch Arthur throw his trident at her, like a javelin. Tilting her head at it, she simply raised her hand and caught it, by the middle tang, then shifted her grasp on it. Holding it by the handle, she regarded the long weapon and twirled it, before grasping the handle in both hands, met Arthur's eye again, and snapped it over her knee, like a toothpick. Arthur's mouth dropped open as she tossed the two pieces to the ground, smiling smugly at him. Her attention now on Arthur, she forgot about Clark, but before she could reach him, something tight wrapped around her arm, tugging her sideways, making her growl in annoyance.

“You need to calm down.” Bruce said, tugging on her with his bat grapple again. “Remember why you're here.”

“This is so much worse than Pet Cemetery.” Barry wheezed, watching the two of them.

Growling, Calea wrapped her hand around the wire of the grapple and started pulling back. “I know why I am here, Bruce Wayne. Why are you?” She inquired, a murderous smirk on her face. “To die, I suppose.” She chuckled, reeling him in, his boots sliding in the dirt.

“Calea Stormborn of Selion.” Diana called from the other side, spinning her lasso above her head and flicking it out towards Calea. “This is not who you are.” She said, her lasso wrapping around Calea's waist, like a golden snake.

Calea groaned as the lasso squeezed around her middle and the power of the lasso whispered around the voices of the Mother Boxes. “No.” She growled, shaking her head, gripping the lasso with her other hand, pulling on both Bruce and Diana.

“Stop.” She barked, the light in her eyes faltering.

“Calea, you must fight this!” Clark called back to her, steadying himself on his feet.

“There has to be something we can do?” Arthur hissed, glaring down at his broken trident.

“I might be able to do something.” Victor replied, apprehensively. “I might be able to mentally merge with her and the Mother Boxes, we're all part of the same technology. If I can do that, I could help her through whatever mental turmoil they're putting her through.”

“Do it.” Clark implored him, watching Calea struggle.

“I'll need a charge.” Victor said, studying Calea. “She was able to click into them by the electrical charge she can naturally produce.”

“I might be able to reproduce the charge.” Barry chimed in, gulping. “I'll have to break my golden rule, but if I can run long enough and fast enough, I-I..I can do some pretty crazy things with the speed of light.” He explained to them, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Do it.” Bruce barked, gritting his teeth as his grip started to slip.

Clark snapped to Bruce, taking the grapple from him, owning his strength with Diana's to keep Calea in place. “Calea, you can fight this.” He growled, teeth gritted as he and Diana struggled to keep her restrained.

“Barry, you might wanna break that rule soon, she's only getting angrier and stronger.” Victor said, watching as Calea wrapped her hands around the wire of Bruce's grapple and the glowing strands of the Lasso, every muscle in her body tensing and flexing to yank Clark and Diana in towards her.

“Right.”

Barry nodded, took a deep breath, flexing his arms and legs, building a static charge, before dashing out of the nuclear tower and started zipping around the area in a wide circle, creating a barrier of blue and red as he succeeded in breaking the barrier. The harder Barry ran the harder it was for him to keep going, feeling the drag and pull of gravity, his feet slipping and struggling to keep traction on the ground.

“Victor!” He called out, trembling. “I've reached it.”

“All right!” Victor replied, readying himself behind Calea. “On one, Barry!”

Calea tried to twist around to swipe Victor away from her, but couldn't quite make it with Diana and Clark's hold onto her, making her growl and thrash with angry agitation. “No! She's ours!” She roared, planting her feet in the dirt, tensing and rolling her shoulders, a loud, almost deafening hum filling the concrete room, emanating from her.

“Three...Tw-”

“No!” Steppenwolf howled, jumping down from the walkway above as he watched them try to keep Calea restrained and attempting to break her free from the influence of the Mother Boxes. “You shall not stop us!” He boomed as he landed.

Steppenwolf swung his axe, striking Diana square in the chest and sending her flying backwards, breaking her grip on her lasso, and Calea. Smirking, Calea turned her head towards Clark and gripped the grapple wire in both hands and yanked as hard as she could. Clark tried digging in his heels, but the dirt and dust on the ground easily gave away, dragging him closer and closer to her.

“You can't hurt us, Kryptonian.” She hissed at him, as Clark raised a fist. “If you hurt us, you hurt her.” She taunted him, grinning and laughing at him.

Clark hesitated, it was true, whatever they did to stop the rampage the Mother Boxes had set Calea on, they would be harming her as well. He sighed and shook his head, knowing it was a double edged sword, hurting Calea and the Boxes stalling them with that fact.

“I have no qualms about that.”

“Ryder!” Bruce gasped, watching him stride over to Calea.

Ryder reached Calea and drove his fist into her stomach, doubling her over with the force. “I can't believe you'd be so stupid.” He scolded her.

Calea straightened up, her pitch black eyes narrowing at him, the markings on her body started to glow and the hum coming off of her only grew louder. Her arm shot out, striking Ryder in the chest and launching him backward, before advancing on him.

“Victor, I can't maintain this!” Barry's distorted voice warbled through the group's communications, his grasp on his speed slowing.

“We need to get her and Victor together.” Bruce said, watching Arthur and Diana try to help Ryder hold Calea off.

“I might be able to help.” Diana panted, grabbing her shield from the ground and dropped to a knee. “Victor get into position.” She told him, lifting her arm and slammed her gauntlet down on the edge of the shield, just as Victor lined up behind Calea.

The shockwave from Diana shoved Calea backwards, leaving deep trenches in the ground from her feet. Victor reached out for Calea as she was pushed back into him, giving Barry the signal to come as well, bringing his massive charge with him. Steppenwolf hissed as he saw what they were doing and tried to intercept them, but Clark put himself between them, Steppenwolf's axe connecting to Clark's shoulder, but it only made him chuckle, the sharp blade of the weapon not even leaving a mark on his regeneration suit.

“Not impressed.” He said, blowing a stream of icy cold breath over the axe, making it cold and brittle, then shattered it with a swift punch.

Steppenwolf gasped, taking several steps back as his axe crumbled to nothing. “No.” He mewled, blinking at his empty hands.

“You're too late.” Bruce added.

Victor's hand touched Calea's tense shoulder and a millisecond later, Barry's charged up hand touched Victor's own shoulder, a strong electric current passing from Barry's fingers and body, coursing through Victor and passing to Calea. It felt like a snap between Calea and Victor, both gasping at the sudden feeling, eyes wide as the two of them mentally became one, merging together.

Victor blinked, looking around at his new surroundings. He was some place he had never seen before and quickly understood it was another planet altogether. Scanning the area, Victor started off to the East of his current location, glancing up at the sky, a mix of midnight blue and black, the air was cool and sweet smelling, but a low humidity blanketed everything, had Victor been more human than Cyborg, he might have broken out into a light sweat as he moved through the tall, emerald green blades of grass and foliage, following an odd point of crystal blue light in the distance.

“Calea?” He called out, seeing her shadowy figure.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice replied, turning to face him, holding the shimmering light Victor had seen.

“Looking for you.” Victor replied, frowning at her. “What is that?” He asked, motioning to the glowing object.

Calea smiled down at her hands, caressing the smooth and silky petals. “It's a Moon Blossom.” She answered, lifting it to her nose and smiled at it, it was sweet and creamy, then held it out to Victor, who gently took it from her. “They only bloom on a full moon.” She told him, looking up at the mostly shield moon, through the leafy canopies above them.

“Dove!” A voice called out from the dark.

“It's all right.” Calea said, gently touching Victor's cool, metal arm. “Over here, Papa!” She called back, grinning. “It's my father.” She told him, chipper and excited as the tall figure of her father appeared between two trees, a bundle of Moon Blossoms in his arms.

“Who's this, Dove?” Calien asked, looking Victor over with a suspicious eye.

“This is my friend, Victor.” Calea explained to him, the smile never fading from her face. “I met him on Earth.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Calien replied, the suspicion never left his voice and eyes.

“You as well, sir.” Victor answered, recognizing Calien's hostility towards him.

He had no doubt the Mother Boxes were projecting themselves as her parents and Calien's hostility was them trying to keep Victor from pulling Calea away from them. A rustling to their left produced Calea's mother, and Victor was struck by how much mother and daughter looked alike.

“Look, love! I found a large cluster of Moon Bloss--?” Solea started, a smile on her gorgeous face, but stopped seeing Victor, her eyes darkening.

“Victor, I'm a friend of your daughter's.” Victor told her, knowing that would be next.

“Are you?” Solea replied, lifting a brow at him.

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, trying to be respectful, so nothing happened.

“Do you want to pick Moon Blossoms with us?” Calea asked, smiling up at Victor.

Victor licked his lips and looked between the three of them, calculating his options. “Sure.” He nodded, meeting Calea's excited eye.

“Excellent.” Calea grinned, bouncing on her toes, then took his hand and followed her mother to where she found the cluster of flowers, Calien following behind them.

“Mama!” A small voice rang out.

“Hey, buddy!” Calea called back, dropping to a knee and opening her arms to the little boy running head on for her.

“Nana found a bunch of flowers!” He said, hugging her arms around his mother's neck.

“Did she?” Calea chuckled, hugging him back.

“Do you think we could take some back to Daddy?” He asked, looking into her eyes.

“Of course!” She nodded, letting him go. “He'll love them.”

“Yay!” He cheered, then ran back off to pick the glowing flowers with his grandparents.

“Who is that?” Victor asked as Calea stood, brushing dirt off her skirt.

“That's Eric.” Calea replied, smiling proudly at the little boy, watching him and her parents bond over the flowers.

“Who's his father?”

Calea laughed and grinned up at Victor. “Did you hit your head?” She asked, amused and concerned for her friend. “He's Clark's.”

“And where is Clark?”

“Back on Earth, silly boy.” She chided him, shaking her head. “Eric and I are here visiting my parents. You know Clark, he worries about being too far away from Earth, Superman has to watch over the Earthlings.”

Victor glanced at Eric, Solea and Calien, seeing them distracted, then took a hold of Calea's hand, staring deep into her eyes. “Calea, this isn't real.”

“What are you talking about?” She chuckled, her smile slightly faltering as she looked up at him. “Of course this is real.”

“No, Calea.” Victor shook his head at her. “The Mother Boxes are trying to trick you into thinking this is real, while in reality, you're destroying the League and Earth.” He tried explaining and convincing her. “This is a dream, Calea. The Boxes are showing you want you want, not what is real.”

“They’re showing you your dream to have your parents alive again, to have a life and family with Clark.”

“But, we destroyed the Boxes, years ago.” She shook her head at him, dread filling her. “Everything was put to rights.”

“It's a lie.” Victor spread his arms out, motioning all around them. “This is a lie! Steppenwolf killed your parents, he decimated all of Selion and it's people, leaving only you. Your son, Eric isn't real either. Maybe one day he can be, but it's not this day.”

Calea squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head and trembling. “No.” She whimpered, gulping. “No.”

“Yes, Calea.” He nodded, shoulders slumping as he watched her start to crumble.

“Then, what are you doing here? Why are you here? How are you here?”

“I came to help you.” Victor replied, tilting his head at her. “With the power of the Boxes and the Unity Key combined together inside of you, you've become incredibly strong. You've outmatched everyone on the League and opened the portal between Earth and Apokolips. Darkseid and his army of Para-Demons are on their way, and the only way to stop them, is for you to pull out of this lie the Boxes are feeding you, to keep you controlled and doing their bidding, or they and you will kill everyone.”

“Including Clark.” He added as a last ditch effort push.

“Calea, are you alright, love?” Solea asked, approaching her and Victor.

“What did you say to me, before you sent me to Earth with the Mother Boxes?” Calea asked her, opening her eyes.

Solea smiled at her daughter. “You know what I said, Dove.”

“I don't remember.” Calea replied, shaking her head, brow creasing. “Remind me, mama.” She cooed at her mother, sweetly.

“I told you, I loved you and I would miss you.” Solea replied, reaching out to gently caress Calea's cheek.

Calea tilted her head into the touch, sighing gently. “It's funny.” She whispered softly.

“What is, dove?” Her father cooed, stepping up beside her mother, Eric hugging his grandfather's leg.

Calea looked deep into her mother's eyes, eyes that mirrored her own. “That you have so much access to my life, my past memories, my present and my future, but you couldn't dig out something so apparently vital, that I only now understand.” She said, her eyes started to glow.

“'You are the bridge.'” She quoted the last words her mother ever said to her. “That is what she said to me, before I left, and I am the bridge, between Selians, Kryptonians and Humans, a bridge across the universes.”

“What has he poisoned your mind with?” Calien hissed, looking to Victor.

“The truth.” Victor replied, turning to face them.

Calea pressed her arms to her sides, wrists bent and palms facing the ground of grass and glowing Moon Blossoms. “I am done.” She hissed, bolts of electricity crackling up her arms, flashing between her fingers, her eyes glowing brighter than the flowers at her feet.

“Calea, honey?” Solea called to her, but her mother's voice was no longer her own, it was foreign and alien.

“I am tired of people telling me what I have to do, what I should do. What I can and should or shouldn't be. My whole life.” She growled, static filled the area around them, making the hairs on everyone's bodies stand on end.

“Not. Any. More!” Calea barked, as a massive surge of electricity and lightning pooled out of her palms and into the ground, electrocuting everything around her, the world around her blurred, like a pixelated glitch on a screen, everything, but Calea and Victor, the two real things in the simulation the Boxes had created around them.

“Look!” Barry called out, pointing to Calea and Victor.

Everyone looked to them, seeing the pulsing currents weave around Calea's body and affecting Victor's, the inky blackness of her eyes slowly changed into the bright blue color of her mighty power that resided inside of her.

“She's gonna blow.” Barry gulped, watching the tentacles of electricity surged out from her feet and across the ground to vanish.

Calea screamed out, a blue rippling wave rocketing out from her body, knocking the team and Steppenwolf backwards, before dropping to her knees, breathing heavily. Calea blinked several times, trying to clear her vision and shook her head, her mind felt like it was wrapped in thick cotton that had been statically charged. Her body was numb and tingly, but she could feel everything around her, hyper aware of the way everyone was breathing, their hearts beating like drums in her ears and against her skin, the chilly air, the smell of energy and lingering radiation in the air, the scent of blood, sweat and strong emotions plugging up her sinuses.

Coughing and clearing her throat, she stood, her equilibrium tilting and swaying as she accumulated and returned to normal, no longer under the control of the Mother Boxes, she was now in control of them. Creaking her neck and flexing her shoulders, Calea turned her attention to Steppenwolf as she pushed himself back up to his own feet.

“Steppenwolf.” She hissed, teeth bared at him.

“Impossible.” He hissed back, looking her over.

“Nothing is impossible with the Unity.” She replied, grinning at him, feeling the jitters of adrenaline and power course through her body, enjoying the rush it gave her. “I've waited five thousand years for this moment to happen.” She panted, licking her lips.

“And I'm going to enjoy it.” She laughed, the sound echoing, as she blinked across the gap between them, using the velocity to give weight to her punch as her knuckles connected to his face, sending him through the wall of the nuclear tower.

“Calea!” Clark shouted as she followed after him.

She looked towards Clark and grinned at him, then continued on, stalking after Steppenwolf. Bounding through the opening his body made, she found him still laying on the ground and grabbed his foot, spinning quickly on her heels and let him go, throwing him back through the tower wall, a section of it crumbling in his wake. As Steppenwolf fell from her last throw, Calea suddenly appeared above him, driving her feet down into his chest, causing him to slam into the ground and leave a massive crater around his landing.

“Jesus.” Bruce gasped, mouth hanging open. “She's almost, if not even stronger, than you now, Clark.” He commented, looking at his friend.

Clark half smiled at him and Calea, mesmerise by her new show of force and strength against Steppenwolf and Darkseid.

Jumping into the crater, Calea grabbed Steppenwolf and jumped up to the now unstable walkway where the portal to Apokolips was. Looking at each other, the League scrambled into joining her. Darkseid, DeSaad and all of their minions stared back at them. Calea tossed Steppenwolf down and looked straight into Darkseid's eyes.

“Darkseid!” She roared, pressing her foot down on Steppenwolf's ankle, keeping him in place and making him howl in pain. “Destroyer and Conqueror of worlds across the Universe.” She called out to him.

“Uxas.”

Darkseid growled, turning his glowing orange eyes on Calea, acknowledging her. “Selian.” His voice echoed back through the portal.

“Your uncle, your General and herald.” She applied even more pressure to Steppenwolf's ankle, the crunch of bone echoing in the air. “Your greatest betrayer, has failed you once again; once and for all.” She sneered down at Steppenwolf with deep disgust, bending down and picking him up by the metal fingers of his armor.

“Your stay on this plant has reached its end, Steppenwolf.” She hissed at him, seeing the League move restlessly from the corners of her eyes.

Smirking, Calea shoved Steppenwolf away, throwing him backwards towards the portal as Diana drew her sword from behind her and jumped into the air, letting out an Amazonian cry, before letting her sword slice through his outstretched neck, like a knife through butter. Steppenwolf's body fell to the floor and slid across the platform, stopping just short of the portal, while his head, his face permanently in an expression of shocked disbelief, kept going, crossing through the portal and skidding to a stop before Darkseid, who stopped it with his foot, crushing it under his mighty boot.

“Your attempt on this planet is null and void, Darkseid.” Calea told him, the League stepping up behind her, showing their support in her words and Earth. “You will never conquer Earth, so long as any, and all of us, live.” She told him, pushing her hands out in front of her, the portal blinking and wavering as she did.

“We will see, little Selian.” Darkseid rasped, just as Calea clapped her hands together and the portal collapsed, breaking the connection between Earth and Apokolips, for good.

Clark quickly wrapped his arms around Calea's waist as her knees wobbled and she started to go limp. “Are you all right?” He panted into her ear, chin resting on her shoulder as he hugged her against his chest.

“I'm fine.” She sighed back, head resting back against his chest. “Just spent a lot of energy.”

“That was fantastic, I mean...wow!” Barry giggled, glancing around, thrilled by the excitement and relieved that it was all over and everyone was alive. “You scared us. I literally thought you were going to erase us, like it was the Matrix or something.” He chattered, goodheartedly.

Bruce let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head and smirking. “Is this over?” He asked, looking to Calea.

“It's over.” She nodded, supporting herself now, but Clark's arm remained around her waist. “Unless Darkseid uses the old ways and commands his armada of ships to come traverse across the universe to knock on Earth's atmosphere.” She mostly quipped, but her voice held an edge of concern and worry that he would.

“Let's not think of that now.” Diana said, wiping Steppenwolf's blood off her sword's blade. “For now, we have a victory and should enjoy it.”

“I agree.” Arthur replied, then trained his eyes on Calea. “You broke my mother's Trident.” He informed her, holding up the two pieces.

“I am so sorry.” Calea frowned, surprised at her unruly behavior and hurt, that she had allowed the Boxes to take such control over her. “If there's any way I can repay the slight..”

“You paid for it already.” Arthur replied, glancing over at Steppenwolf's headless body.

“But, what about the Mother Boxes?” Barry asked, holding up a finger. “Where are they?”

“In me.” Calea replied. “They, the Father Box and Unity Key will reside inside of me.”

“Is that safe?” Bruce frowned, shaking his head.

“I'm one of the only people that can control and maintain their power.” She told them, flat out. “Other than Victor.” She turned to him, resting her hand on his arm. “Thank you.” She whispered softly. “Thank you, for righting me and showing me the truth.”

“What truth?” Clark frowned, blinking at her.

Calea touched his cheek with a trembling hand. “Don't worry about it.” She whispered, pushing up on her sore toes and kissed him, gently. “Everything is all right now, and that's what matters.” She told him, squeezing his bicep.

“I think Calea is right.” Diana spoke up. “It is clear that with the boxes as physical forms it's too risky and tempting for those seeking their power. If Calea can safely maintain and command them as she is now, then it's for the best.”

“We clearly saw what she can do, when she's controlling them.” Victor added, looking around with a lifted brow. “I think anyone would be mad if they tried taking her on.”

“Anyone is crazy for trying to take her on, with or without the Boxes.” Ryder's soft voice added behind them.

“We all would know that now.” Arthur laughed, feeling a sore spot on his back.

“What are you doing here?” Calea asked, surprised to see Ryder decided to fight among the League after the initial regret of introducing her to the others in the first place.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to get in a good old fashioned fight?” He chucked at her. “Not in a million years. Besides, I am a member of this world, have been as long as you have. So, what about Steppenwolf's body?” Ryder asked, surveying it.

Taking a deep breath, Clark let Calea go and approached the body, his eyes slowly glowing a bright, cherry red, before letting out two laser beams into Steppenwolf's disfigured body, setting it on fire. Within seconds, there was nothing left of Steppenwolf's body, but a black charred spot on the concrete walkway.

“Well, that solves that problem.” Ryder commented, chuckling as he looked around the group. “Do we have any other reason to be here?” He asked, meeting everyone's eyes.

“No.” Clark shook his head, looking around at the group too.

“Back to the Hall?” Barry asked, biting his lip.

“Yes.” Bruce nodded, feeling the soreness of battle creeping into his body.

With that, the aching and exhausted members of the League set about getting back to the Hall the best way they could and focused on healing and recovering from the third battle and war for Earth.

It was almost a month after the battle and most things had returned to normal.

Barry got a job, with the help and connections of Bruce, in a crime lab; it was a low position, but it would hopefully become something more as time passed and he gained experience and a reputation in the field.

Diana returned to her job as a museum curator at the Louvre, in Paris.

Bruce returned to his nightly crime fighting as Batman in Gotham and running his various businesses.

Victor worked on becoming more comfortable about what he had been turned into after the accident that had technically killed him and had actually took his mother's life, helping people in various ways, and even accepted a job in Star Labs.

Arthur went back to being a, supposed, lone wolf, but helped people that were in danger at sea and on land. He was even able to have his mother's trident fixed back in Atlantis, Vulko have his tricks and Atlantean Technology.

Clark returned to the Daily Planet, working on his journalism and stories for the paper, Perry mostly assigning him to sports related articles, much to his chagrin and annoyance, while still being the glorious and loved Superman; saving people from burning buildings, floods, earthquakes and every other manners of danger.

As for Calea, with the help of Bruce and his money and influence, became a World History Professor at Metropolis University, while she also worked on getting a proper History degree, being both the teacher and the student. Luckily, Calea had five thousand years of historical knowledge, knowing things not even the absolute best scholars knew about various events that happened on Earth and in the Human's timeline.

Even Ryder got a job, working in Wayne Electronics, helping Bruce and his company create and maintain their current technology and come up with new ones, showing them many of the technological wonders of alien advancement.

Each of the members of the Justice League made sure to carry a small beeper-like device on them, so in a moment's notice, they could come together and face whatever it was, usually being set off by Alfred, who was always watchful. But, the biggest turn of events and development happened in the middle of the night in Clark and Calea's new apartment that they had found in Central Metropolis, close to both the university and the Daily Planet.

It was a quite night in Metropolis, minus the noise of the traffic on the street below their bedroom window, but Clark and Calea had long learned how to ignore such things. They were spooned together under the light blankets of their bed, when suddenly, in the still quiet of their room, a thump sounded.

At first, neither of them acknowledged the sound, figuring it to be something on the street below or the neighbor to the side of them. But, when it came again, stronger and more steady, Clark stirred from his sleep, blue eyes searching for a moment, then felt it against the palm of his hand, becoming steady, strong and rhythmic. Calea's eyes popped open, finally recognizing the sound for what it was and turned onto her back; Clark's palm glued to her lean stomach.

“Clark?” She whispered softly, not wanting to drown out the sound with her voice.

“Calea.” He smiled back, an excited giddiness filling him with each strong beat of the tiny thing nestled inside of her. “A baby.” He whispered, shifting and laying his head on her stomach, his eyes closing.

“Our baby.”

“Our baby.” Calea cooed back, stroking his hair and closing her own eyes, listening to the almost synced beats of all three of their hearts together, in their dark and peaceful sanctuary. “Our son.”

Clark turned his head, keeping an ear on her stomach. “You think, we'll have a boy?” He asked, grinning like mad, already thrilled about the idea of being a father.

“I know we'll have a boy.” She replied, caressing the side of his face. “I've seen it so many times over the last several months. Between my dreams and the Boxes...”

“You've seen this?” He asked, his brow creasing.

“I did.” She nodded, touching the pad of her index and middle fingers to his creased brow, caressing it smooth again. “I didn't say anything, because it didn't necessarily mean it'll happen. I saw a lot of things in those moments that haven't and didn't happen.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Clark pressed, concerned.

“I didn't want to worry you about such nonsense, Clark.” She told him, honestly, her own brow creasing. “You worry about me too much already.”

“Well, apparently this isn't nonsense, Calea.” He replied, turning his head and kissing her belly.

“No.” She sighed, smiling and chuckling softly. “He certainly is not.”

“What else about him did you see?” Clark asked, curiously.

“He looks just like you.” She told him, bring up the image of the little boy. “We named him, Eric Jonathan.”

Clark smiled, warmed at the tribute to his adoptive father. “I like it.” He whispered, eyes gently closing, lulled by the sound of their hearts.

Both of them fell asleep like that, Clark's head pillowed on Calea's stomach, her hand still in his soft curls, thumb stroking them mindlessly, and eight and a half months later, Calea birthed their beautiful baby boy.

“You certainly have some strong seed.” Arthur quipped as she and Clark took their newborn to the Hall of Justice to meet everybody. “Getting her pregnant the very first shot.”

“It helps, when my womb certainly doesn't have any Kryptonite in it.” Calea gibed back at him, gently bouncing the baby in her arms as he fussed. “Clark and I are the bridge between our worlds and this one, and our son is the first to cross it.” She said, staring into Eric's sweet face.

“Hopefully, there will be more.” Clark replied, kissing Calea's cheek and resting a gentle hand on Eric, hinting at more than one thing.

-- END --

#Of Truth and Justice #Of Truth and Justice *fic* #viking-raider fics #Superman #Kal-El #Clark Kent #Clark Kent x OFC #Clark Kent/OFC #Superman/OFC #Superman x OFC #Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #Justice league #Justice League!AU #alternate universe #DCU #Snyder Cut #Aquaman #Arthur Curry #Jason Momoa #Gal Gadot #Wonder Woman #Diana Prince #Ezra Miller #The Flash #Flash #Barry Allen #Victor Stone #Cyborg #Ray Fisher

[tellmealovestory]

That Summer (4/?)

Summary: You’ve spent every summer since you were a child in the idyllic beach town you call home three months out of the year. This summer should be no different except for the addition of Bucky Barnes. Sparks fly upon first meeting, but it’s only a summer fling, right? Modern AU.

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. 

Warnings: A few lines of suggestiveness, angst if you squint

Series Masterlist

"How come you never cooked for us before?" Wanda asked.

"Last time she cooked she almost burned the kitchen down," Natasha added, laughing when Wanda's eyes grew wide with a mix of shock and worry.

Standing over the wooden cutting board you ignored them as you concentrated on slicing cucumbers and tomatoes for salad. "That's not completely true," you muttered under your breath. Wiping your hands on the red apron you had borrowed from Wanda you walked over to the stove checking on the potatoes.

"You never told me that."

"Because it was a long time ago," you started, opening the oven door to check on the chicken. "And I'm not going to burn down the kitchen so please stop looking so worried, Wanda."

A snort came from the other side of the room. "It was two years ago when she was dating that guy Eric."

"The musician?"

"Are we really doing this right now?" You groaned. 

Ignoring you she continued, "That's the one. She tried making him a fancy dinner and when he got there how'd you say it happened again?" Smirking she snapped her fingers. "The lust overcame you and you guys went at it like rabbits."

"Okay, okay, first off," you started, raising your voice to be heard over their peals of laughter, "Natasha is lying I did not say anything like that! Although I might have gotten distracted when he came over and we might have had sex making me forget about dinner and there may have been a small fire in the kitchen, but it didn't burn down! And Wanda, please stop looking at me like that because I promise you that's not going to happen tonight!"

"Which part isn't happening tonight, Y/N?" Nat teased.

"I hate you." Untying the apron you focused on folding it into neat squares while trying to ignore Natasha's laughter and Wanda's growing nerves as she hovered around you, checking the boiling potatoes and chicken roasting in the oven. "Also, for the record it was different with Eric. Our whole relationship was about sex and with Bucky... it's deeper than that. I've never felt this way about someone else before and..." Letting your words trail off you stared down at the counter, your fingers running over the apron. "After the movie in the park and all the dates he's taken me on I wanted to do something nice for him so no, tonight is not going to be a repeat of the disaster with Eric and you guys have nothing to worry about. We're going to have a nice homemade dinner and that's it."

Greeted with silence you looked up to find Natasha scribbling down the number for the fire department and Wanda again hovering by the stove.

"You guys really have no faith in me," you sighed. "I made brownies this morning and you weren't worried."

"That was before," Wanda murmured, fingers turning down the burner of the stove.

"I promise you by the time you get home the kitchen will still be here, everything will be cleaned up and-"

"You and Bucky will be making out on the counter again?" Natasha added, deftly catching the apron you threw at her.

"Wanda!" You snapped. "You said you weren't going to tell her about that!"

"She went into some very graphic details about where she saw your hands disappearing."

"I hate both of you," you muttered. Heat burned your face and you couldn't tell if it was from the conversation, the oven being on during the heat of summer or the memories of that late night in the kitchen with Bucky kissing you until your lips were swollen, exploring his body with your fingers and hands until you swore you knew it as well as yours.

Ignoring their laughter and the way you could still feel your face burning you glanced over at the clock. "Shouldn't you guys be leaving?"

"Someone's eager for us to be gone."

"I'm not eager," you lied. "But you guys don't want to be late. You know traffic and parking and all that."

"Uh huh. I get it. I think she wants some alone time with Bucky. Come on, Wanda."

Peeking into the oven again Wanda fiddled with the knobs of the stove. "We could help you finish dinner first."

Exchanging a look with Nat across the kitchen you watched the way she went over to Wanda, slinging an arm around her shoulder and murmuring something you couldn't quite hear, but still she didn't budge. 

"I promise that I'm not going to burn the kitchen down. Natasha exaggerated what happened with Eric. You guys have nothing to worry about. I've got this under control."

Twenty minutes later and you did not have it under control. 

After darting upstairs to freshen up you had stepped out of the shower only to catch your first whiff of smoke. Thinking nothing of it you had taken your time in searching for something to wear. But as the minutes ticked by the ashen smell grew stronger until you couldn’t ignore it anymore and when the piercing screech of the smoke detector blared in your ears you had raced downstairs. Tugging your dress on only half aware it was on backwards you skidded to a stop at the edge of the kitchen.

The piercing screech was amplified downstairs as smoke filled the kitchen, billowing out into the living room. Acting on instinct you raced to the oven, flinging the doors open only to be met with more smoke. Coughing, eyes burning with tears you waved it away before reaching for a pair of oven mitts and pulling the pan out.

Burned beyond repair you slammed the pan onto the stove, the thunk reverberating throughout the kitchen. Hours of preparation for tonight ruined in a matter of minutes. Tossing the mitts onto the counter you ran a hand over your hair determined not to cry, but it was so hard when all you had wanted was tonight to be perfect, a small thank you for all the time and thought he had put into your dates and it was ruined.

Letting the screen door slam shut as you left behind the smoke filled house you inhaled the saltiness of the ocean and the sweetness of freshly cut grass. Sitting on the bottom step of the front porch, brain trying to come up with a plan b for tonights date, clean feet getting dirtier by the second as you ran them over small pebbles, loose piles of dirt, grass clippings from early this morning when you had cut it. In the distance you could hear the familiar rumbling of Bucky's motorcycle, the soundtrack to your summer. 

Like a child eagerly waiting for the ice cream truck to drive down their block on those hot summer days you stood up, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you watched Bucky effortlessly maneuver the motorcycle to a stop in front of the house. No matter how many times you watched from the living room, peering through the curtains, or standing on the front porch watching him leave you would never get tired of the way he so easily climbed on and off as if the bike was part of him and in someways you supposed that was true. Meeting him halfway the sidewalk burned the bottoms of your feet, but you paid it little mind as you flung you arms around his shoulders, inhaling that familiar scent of exhaust and woods and him. The smells of your summer.

"Hi," you breathed, lips landing on the corner of his mouth as you struggled to break the news to him. 

"What happened? Are you okay?" Eyebrows knitted together, callused hands resting on your shoulders before gliding down your arms, gaze scrutinizing your body looking for any sign of injury before briefly glancing to the house. 

"I'm fin-,"

"You're not." Sliding his hands up to your face he cupped your still warm cheeks, striking eyes filling with a cloudiness, voice gruff. "Something happened, pretty girl."

Guilt pooled in the pit of your stomach for making him think the worst. "I'm fine." 

"That why your dress is on backwards and you're out here waiting for me?"

"Maybe I missed you." Warmth found its way onto your face and though you wished you could blame it on the mugginess of the night you knew it had more to do with the current situation. "Okay, okay, there may have been a little accident in the kitchen, but I didn't burn anything this time. Technically I burned dinner and the kitchen is probably still filled with smoke, but other than that I'm fine."

"This time?" He laughed and like the waves washing away sand castles you could feel the guilt and the worry about trying to impress him tonight washing away. 

"I tell you I burned dinner and I ruined our date and the only thing you take away is that I've done this before?" His laughter was infectious.

"You didn't ruin our date," he murmured, offended at the thought that you would ever think that. Dropping his hands from your face he rested them on your waist, tugging you closer to him. It was too hot to be held, but that didn't stop you from resting your head on the burning leather of his jacket or to let out a content sight when he kissed the top of your head. 

"I did though." Voice muffled against his chest you pulled back enough to stare up into his eyes. "You've been planning all these amazing dates for us and I wanted to do something nice in return and instead I made a huge mess and dinner was gonna be good, like really good, Bucky. Better than your chocolate chip banana pancakes good."

"That so, pretty girl?"

"Mhm." 

"Weren't you the one who said my pancakes were the best thing you ever ate?" Dipping his head down so his mouth was pressed against your ear he whispered, "Weren't you the one who moaned after the first bite? Said they were as good as that orgasm I gave you the night before?"

You swore the temperature rose a hundred degrees on that sidewalk and it had nothing to do with the night air. Opening and closing your mouth you were at a loss for words.

“Hm?” 

“Brownies,” you blurted, a twinge of embarrassment working its way through you. “I made some brownies this morning which unlike dinner aren’t burned.”

“Brownies? You trying to distract me?”

Laughing you shrugged your shoulder. “Maybe,” you said, drawing the word out until he was laughing too, until he was leaning down and kissing you, until you momentarily forgot about dinner, until you were so happy you swore you would sink straight down into the cement. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Kissing you again, a little longer this time, one hand sliding to your lower back holding you close. “C’mon, I’ve got an idea.”

His idea turned out to be brownie sundaes shared on the patio, double scoops of vanilla ice cream dripping with extra whip cream and enough chocolate sauce to make your teeth ache. Watching as the sky turned from rosy pinks reminding you of the way he’d blush to deep purples that reminded you of the wildflowers that dotted the grassy fields on the drives he’d taken you on outside the city. And when the pinks and purples of the sky changed to deep blue to black, when the stars came out, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and eating too many sweets you had grabbed his hand, leading him down the steps and onto the sandy beach.

Deserted, stars twinkling above, your bare feet sinking into the damp sand, cool ocean water running over your toes, holding hands, his rich laughter drifting outward when he teased you about Jaws getting you when you dared to wade a little further into the dark water.

Tugging you back to shore, your feet kicking up water, your own laughter joining his when you accidentally splashed him, soaking the bottoms of his jeans. Feet and legs wet, sand sticking to your skin like sugar on fried donuts you stumbled into his open arms deliriously happy.

“Careful there,” he laughed, so reminiscent of that first night you met. 

“I’m always careful.”

“That why you burned dinner?”

“You’re never gonna let me live that down either are you?”   

“Not a chance.” Pulling you close to his side he wrapped his arm around your waist, your feet sinking into the sand as you continued your lazy stroll along the beach. 

Almost back to the house you paused your steps gaze swiveling to the patio where the light was still on illuminating the wicker furniture, the piles of fluffy blankets and oversized pillows you used during your girls nights, the same set that you used when it became too hot upstairs, the fans and open windows doing nothing to cool you off as you slinked down the stairs and settled in for a night sleeping out under the stars. The kitchen light was still off telling you that your friends weren't home yet. Except for the waves rolling against the shore it was quiet out. Down the beach you could see a bonfire, the orange flames dancing in the night as a small group of friends huddled around the warmth. 

"Why were you so worried when you came over?" You hadn't meant to blurt it out, but since his arrival and the worry that had seeped from him even after you told him you were fine to the way he had been so tense in the kitchen watching those final curls of smoke float around the ceiling you could tell something had been bothering him.

"I told you," he murmured, voice a little gruff, arm tightening around your waist as he led you in the direction of the stairs.

Holding firm you dug your feet into the sand. "Come on I'm serious. You were weird. I've waited for you outside before and in the kitchen? You saw the smoke and you just shut down. I've never seen you act like that before so talk to me."

Dropping his arm from your waist he said, "'Bout two years before we moved here there was an accident." Silently climbing the stairs after him you shivered when he reached for your hand, pulling you down onto the lush pile of blankets and pillows. 

"Got into some trouble with another biker group." Refusing to meet your eyes he stared out at the horizon. "Started off small with fights. Didn't take long for things to escalate. Sure you wanna hear the rest?"

"Nothing you say is going to make me think less of you, Bucky Barnes," you whispered. Lifting your hand to his face your thumb smoothing over his stubbled cheeks and jaw, tracing the plumpness of his lower lip, you smiled softly when he relaxed into your touch and met your eyes.

"They weren't good people, Y/N. It was a small town, they were ruining it by running drugs through. When we got word we tried to stop them and." A pause. A deep breath. A humorless chuckle. "We confronted them, got them to leave and thought that was the end. Couple months later our bar burned down." 

Another pause. Another deep breath. Eyes turning downwards. "Nobody got hurt, but they burned it to the ground. Didn't take a genius to figure out who was behind it. After that we left town. Haven't seen 'em since, but tonight when I saw you sittin' on the porch, your dress on backwards the only thing I could think about was they were here and hurt you. Then in the kitchen when I saw the smoke, dunno, guess I went back to that night."

"Jesus," you breathed, at a loss for words. It was the deepest you had ever delved into your pasts and sitting next to him on a floral blanket, the patio light bathing him so that you could see the pain in his eyes, could see the way his shoulders were hunched as if by telling you he was still worried you'd think less of him. Seeing him so vulnerable next to you had your heart shattering. You had heard rumors around town about him and his friends, had seen the way the locals had pointed and stared, but you had never given it much thought when they had been nothing but kind and generous towards you. And when you had asked your friends about it they had simply shrugged their shoulders, murmuring offerings about how it was a small town and rumors spread like fire around here. 

"Yeah."

"I meant what I said it doesn't change anything.” The thought of Bucky and his friends getting caught up in another round of fights, of their war escalating, bringing with it the possibility of casualties didn’t sit well with you. “You really think they’d come back after all this time?”

Gently removing your hand from his face he pressed a soft kiss to first your knuckles and then your palm in a gesture that was both calming and sensual. “No,” he finally said. 

“But what about other groups coming after you or-“

“Hey, you got nothing to worry about, pretty girl. Haven’t been in trouble since and don’t plan on getting into more. ‘Sides, nothing interesting happens in this town anyway.”

“Really, Bucky?” You asked, trying and failing to hold back your growing smile. You didn’t understand how he could go from talking about something so serious and dangerous to making jokes, but a small part of you was thankful for the lighter conversation. “Nothing interesting has happened here? At all?”

“Well,” he smirked, “Guess one interesting thing.”

“What’s that?” 

Your breath hitched when he leaned in closer, your eyes fluttering shut, heart picking up speed at the thought of feeling his lips on yours again. Warm breath against your mouth, fingertips dancing down your jaw and neck, but still, you didn’t feel his kiss. The growing impatience you felt turned to frustration.

“This patio. Most interesting one I’ve seen. Wanna tell me why you guys have so many pillows and blankets out here?”

“Seriously?” 

“What?” He asked innocently with a shrug of his shoulders and an infuriating smirk. “Expecting a different answer?” 

And this time when he leaned forward he gave you the answer you were looking for in a kiss that left you tasting brownies on his lips and tongue. Breathless when he pulled away you went back for seconds wanting him to kiss away your fears over his past, wanting to kiss away his worries of seeing you on the porch. 

“How was that answer?”

“A lot better,” you breathed. 

Stretching his body on the floral blanket he spread his arms, an invitation you accepted without hesitation as you curled into his side, feeling instantly safe and at home. Stroking his fingers down your back you let your eyes flutter shut as every beat of his heart and every roll of the ocean against the shore lulled you into a sense of peacefulness.

Your feet were still caked with sand, his jeans still a little wet and when you shivered against him he grabbed a light blanket, draping it over your body so delicately you were convinced it would take a week before your smile faded. 

“Sometimes when I can’t sleep I come out here and look at the stars.”

“You ever gonna tell me what’s so special about those stars?”

“Jealous?” You teased.

“No,” he scoffed. “Already showed you I could make you feel better than the stars, pretty girl, don’t tell me you forgot already.”

There was no way you’d ever forget that night,. The way his body had pressed yours into the edge of the blanket and grass, the way he kept laughing, husky voiced reminding you to be quiet. The memories came rushing back and as you buried your head in his chest you now knew it’d take a month before your smile faded.

“I didn’t forget,” you mumbled, face burning as you left out the part about how’d you never forget. In a summer that was already filled to the brim with snapshots of your time together that one was on the top of the pile. 

“I always tell people it started when we learned about them in school, but it started earlier than that. When I was a kid I always had trouble leaving at the end of summer. I used to throw tantrums and beg my parents to let me stay here year round and obviously that never worked out,” you laughed. “One year my mom told me that whenever I got lonely and missed the beach and my friends all I had to do was look at the stars and I wouldn’t be lonely because they’d be watching over everything I left behind. I know it sounds dumb, but I was a child and didn’t know any better. But as I got older it just became this sense of comfort, you know? I’d leave and even miles away from everyone I loved I took comfort knowing that no matter the distance we’d still have the stars watching over us.”

“You never thought about staying when you got older?”

“All the time. When I was a kid I used to picture myself moving here right after graduation and sharing a house with Wanda and Nat and sometimes when I’m having a bad day I dream about packing everything up and coming here, but I’ve got a life back home, a job. My mom is expecting me to take over the business one day. It’s not that simple.”

It was the closest you had come to talking about the end of summer and with a pang in your chest you realized for the first time just how hard it was going to be saying goodbye to him. Blinking back the tears you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, telling yourself you still had time with him even though it felt like every second was slipping through your fingers. 

“That what you want?”

You wanted to tell him he was the first person who ever asked you that, wanted to tell him that before meeting him that was the plan, wanted to tell him that a part of you, a large, scary part of you that was reckless wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, wanted to tell him that even though you didn’t know each other well enough you wanted to settle down making a life with him here in this little slice of paradise. Even to your own mind you knew how ridiculous you sounded. But there was something about him, about the way he made you feel whole, the way you couldn’t get him off your mind no matter how hard you tried, the way those simple good morning texts sent your heart racing and your smile growing so large it hurt your face, the way you never slept so well as when you fell asleep next to him, the way you wanted to grow old with him by your side learning new things about him everyday, the way you were convinced you’d never feel this way about anyone else.

You couldn’t tell him that though. You hadn’t even told him that you thought you were falling in love with him. Instead you softly said, “What I want is to stay like this for a little longer.”

“He’s still here? That’s a good sign means she probably didn’t burn the kitchen down,” Wanda murmured as the headlights of Natasha’s car swept over Bucky’s motorcycle and the darkened front of the house.

“Or it could mean you’re about to walk in on them in the kitchen again,” Natasha retorted. “Or the living room.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Entering the house each of them made sure to make extra noise, stomping their feet, using their outdoor voices in a bid of warning. With each light that was flipped on to illuminate an empty room they became more confident.

“Maybe they’re upstairs,” Natasha said before getting shushed by Wanda.

Sliding the patio door open Wanda lightly stepped out being careful to avoid the creaky boards that would awaken you and Bucky. Slipping her phone out of her pocket she snapped a few pictures of you on your side fast asleep with Bucky holding you to his chest, arm wrapped protectively around your middle quietly snoring.

“Because that’s not creepy at all,” Natasha smirked. 

“She’ll thank us for these later.”

Tags;

@nacho-bucky​

@redhairedfeistynerd​

@19mrs-rogers18​

@ceeellewrites​

@shawnie--jo​

@breakfast-at-kelseys​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #my writing

[ldyinblckmsk]

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto X GN! Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1k

A/N: Hey guys! welp this is my first time finishing a story. Yep, I'm a sucker for angst. I have so many plots in mind and all of them were just sleeping in my drafts ugh. This may not be a good one but I'm quite proud of myself for writing this one. I hope this gets attention ohmygod. Enjoy!

I wanted to make ya'll cry, so listen with this song.

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

Everything is a blur. You were just outside of your house, sitting at the floor in your front porch with another can of beer on your hand. Crumbs of chips are everwhere on the floor together with five cans of beer that was making a mess. The cold breeze of the night makes you shiver and the alcohol isn't enough to warm you. It's not like you don't want to go inside your house. You just can't.

Because today seems like the devil is casting you a curse with ridiculous bad lucks you encountered, enjoying your torments as you make fool of yourself. Burning your liver with the bitter concoction as your mind wandering to the sole reason why you were out of yourself lately.

You didn't even know how you end up with a cellphone in your hand, dialing a familiar number as you squint your eyes trying to clear your vision. You found yourself laughing as you tried to copy the ringing of your phone while waiting for him to pick up.

Todoroki is surprised when he saw your number on the screen. He thought that you already deleted his contact when the two of you called it off last month. Confused as to why you're calling him at 3 AM, he picked up his phone, eyes still adjusting in the dark.

"Hello?"

On the third ring, you nearly jumped when you heard his calm and deep voice, excitement course through every veins in your body. His groggy voice gave away that you woke him up. Heart beating than the usual rhythm against your rib cage, you exhaled the air you didn't know you were holding before you speak.

"Hey!" You cringed when you heard your voice rising its pitch. Oh shit, that sounds like a mouse that had been caught in a trap!

"I'm glad you picked up, Shou." You giggled at the cute nickname, slurring some words that gives him a hint that you're drinking. You're drunk to the point that you're doing things that you'll regret when you wake up. "I thought you're not going to answer me hmp." You pout, your cringey childish self showing up.

"Y/n?" He's confused, checking his phone if it's really your number who called him and not some teenager's prank.

"It's already late. Why are you still up?" His concerned voice makes your heart clench.

"I want your hugs right now, Shou."

"Hey, did something happened? Are you okay?" You shushed him, shaking your head. "I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you that I missed you and I'm sorry."

"I missed our lazy date nights. I missed your cuddles. I missed the smell of your cologne. I missed how you ruffles my hair while you placed a kiss on my forehead. I missed wearing your hoodies..."

You let your drunken self take over you allowing yourself to verbalize all your true feelings you've been hiding.

"I missed you, love." You bitterly smiled at the endearment you used. It brings back thousands of memories you didn't want to forget but you didn't want to also remember either. It's just there locked in a box somewhere in your heart but you're conversation with him released all of it. And every single of them pricked your heart like needles.

The bi-colored hair man didn't know what to say. Hell, he can't even think properly. You're drunk and you're telling him your sober thoughts. He thought you're completely over with him, seeing you smiling while you're hanging out with your friends like nothing happened broke him apart. And yet here you are confessing to him.

"C-can I go see you?"

"No." You were taken aback with his immediate reply. Nodding to yourself as you let out a chuckle. You're proud to yourself that you're still not crying, always so good at hiding your emotions.

"It's late, go to sleep." His voice is cold and distant. But you didn't let it affect you as you shoot your shot again.

"I-I'll bring lots of your favorite soba. Cold ones are always perfect, right? Just wait, I'll get a ta—" He cuts you off. You heard a painful sigh from the other line.

"Y/n, We...already broke up." Hearing those words makes the alcohol in your body immediately disappear. With those sentence, you instantly sober up. "We broke up. Month ago."

He repeated like he's trying to make you remember it. It was just a misunderstanding. He's aloof and oblivious personality didn't understand your outbursts. You did trust him but his constant hanging out with Momo riled up your insecurities. And funny how they are a couple now.

"Yeah and I'm wasted." You chuckled as you began to cry, quietly, biting the inside of your cheeks while trying to control your emotions.

"Don't come here. You need to sleep. Drink lots of water when you wake up. We'll talk tomorrow–"

You cut him off before he hangs up, hands fiddling the hem of your shirt. "You know... it's been a rough day. Everyone's being mean to me."

Silence answers you but you still continue ranting to him. "I nearly got fired for standing up for myself when a customer throws her coffee on me because I accidentally messed up her order. T-then, I-I lost my fucking keys and it's cold."

"I lost the keys of my house."

You're having a hard time controlling your emotions now as you complained to him like a whiny child. Tears slowly cascading down your cheeks while you let out sobs.

"It's cold, Shou. I'm cold. And everything hurts. I wish you were here right now but, yeah, we already broke up." You didn't let him talk. "Just so you know I'm happy for you even if it's her."

"I'm right. Momo's better for you."

You were just sitting there, at the corner of your front porch. Deeps uncontrollable sobs squeezed your lungs. Your phone long forgotten as it slips from your hand and met the cold floor while you completely breaks down. You hugged your knees tightly burrying your head, serving as your emotional support now.

Pretending that you're already moved on from your heart ache. Smiling and fooling yourself that you didn't want him anymore. Saying you're fine when you found out that he's recently dating Momo.

All the pent up emotions you've been keeping from showing explodes like a burning magma finding its way out of the volcano. The cold air hits you again and this makes you grieve louder while shivering at the sudden drop of temperature.

Bullshit.

Out of your shrieks of anguish, clock hitting another hour you spent outside, phone still light up with your ongoing call with him, wind hitting your pitiful state, slowly and smoothly, tiny crystals glowing when lights hit it just right–snow descends from the sky.

"Fucking keys," you cursed. Eyes already heavy as Hypnos cradles you to sleep.

#todoroki shōto #bnha todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha angst

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Managed: Part 3

Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader (Henry Cavill Clark)

Warnings: Maybe swearing

Word Count: 2,777

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

Part 1 / Part 2

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

“OK, hold the fuck on.” Your best friend from work, Sarah, said as she waited patiently for you to safely enter your currently room temperature hot tub to cool off on your first hot day of spring. “You’re the one dating Clark Kent?! Tall, drop dead gorgeous, hasn’t looked at a single woman since he started at Blue Ridge to the point we were starting to think he was gay, Clark Kent?”

“People thought he was gay?” You asked with a huffed laugh as you sat down in your favorite spot.

“I mean, have you seen how he dresses?” She asked as she got in and sat across from you. “Those tight shirts?”

“So that makes him gay?!” You laughed as you wrapped your ponytail into a bun and secured it with the hair tie on your wrist.

“OK, not exclusively.” She laughed as she hit the display panel and turned on her jets. “It’s all talk, you know. That’s all. He’s just never showed interest in getting to know people and he’s never once mentioned a significant other to anyone... you know how usually that shit just kinda slips out in passing. I don’t know, it’s just an observation.”

“Well now that it’s out, it’s spreading like wildfire. Everyone seems to know now.”

“That’s the fun part of working at Blue Ridge.” She said over the sound of your jets starting up. “Everybody is in everybody else’s business. I’m just surprised that y’all were able to keep it a secret as long as you did.”

“It was more out of fear than anything else.” You started as you looked over at the familiar rumble of a pick up truck and its tires coming up your gravel drive. “He was worried about my job, I was worried about his. Now that people know, it’s like a weight has been lifted off our shoulders.”

“Is that his truck?” You nodded your head and turned the slightest bit to yell at Clark that you were down stairs when he got out of his truck. “Does he live here?”

“We go back and forth between here and his place. We have been slowly starting to throw around the idea of getting a place but it’s still just pillow talk.”

“I swear, you live in that hot tub.” Clark teased as he walked through the side fence.

“Sue me, I’m a mermaid.”

“Got that right.” He chuckled as he came into the screened in porch. “Hello, Sarah.”

“How’s it going, boss man.” She teased. “Or is it baby daddy now?”

“Clark still works just fine.” He laughed as he leaned over the side to kiss your forehead. “I’m gunna go shower and wash this day off me and thank God we have the next two days off.”

“For doctors appointments.” You pointed out. “So many doctors appointments.” With a nod of his head, he said good bye to Sarah and headed inside, while your friend simply shook her head at you.

“Luckiest bitch in the world.” She muttered when she was sure the down stairs door to your house was closed.

“I know.” You laughed with a shrug as you stretched your legs out under the water and got even more comfortable in front of your jets. “He’s a heaven sent angel for sure. That man has the patience of a saint to put up with all my crazy.”

“Yea, and we both know how much crazy that is.” She laughed, which made you pout and splash some water in her direction.

“I’m serious though. He puts up with me and helps me not spiral out of control better than my own mother can. I seriously have no idea how or why he has stuck around this long...”

“Because you are worth it, (Y/N). You are worth this happiness I can actually see in your eyes. You deserve to be happy just like the rest of us... well, not me. I’m a piece of shit.”

“And you have Larry.” You pointed out as you turned in your chair to grab your bottle of water off the side.

“Two fucked up sides to the same coin.” She laughed, whole heartedly. “God, I love that man. Pain in my ass, and I definitely don’t deserve him, but I love him for loving me all the same. We should all grab dinner sometime. Like a...”

“If you say ‘double date’ to me right now, I will drown you, pregnant or not.”

“Spoil sport.”

——

“So I’ve been thinking...”

“Oh that’s a dangerous thing to do.” Clark teased as he got ready for bed later that night.

“Maybe it’s time to revisit us moving in together and buying a house.” Your boyfriend actually froze half way through taking his under shirt off and stared at you as you looked away from your Facebook feed and up at him through your lashes. “Save money before the baby comes and all.”

“So you wanna buy a house to save money.” He laughed as he took off his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket. “What brought this on?”

“Well.” You breathed as you turned off your phone screen and rolled over onto your side to face him. “Sarah asked if we were living together when she saw you pull up and I told her we were just talking about it, but the only reason I have been hesitant about it was because of work but since work knows, there really isn’t an issue anymore so there isn’t any reason not to now, right?” He nodded his head slowly as he put his folded jeans on his dresser for the morning and sat down on his side of the bed facing you.

“You know that I have wanted to move in with you for months.” He started as he reached out to put his hand on your hip. “So I am beyond excited at the idea of this actually happening. But I want to make sure that you are ready for this and not just jumping into it because you think its gunna make other people happy.”

“No, I know.” You agreed as you scooted forward so you were a little closer to him. “I have wanted to live with you since you asked me to. I know it’s a big step and yes, its already stressing me out, but I know that at the end of it all, I will be with you. And that’s all I want. I just want to be with you. You make me so happy, more than I’ll ever deserve. And I know that it’s time to take the next step in our lives together. Besides that, we can’t really start our family living in two different houses, one of which is with my mother...”

“OK, well that is another thing we need to discuss.” He said as he leaned over so that he was propped up on the bed behind you with his elbow but still partially laying on your legs. “Because I already know you well enough to know that your mother is a big part of your support group and moving you too far away from her isn’t going to work for both of your sakes. She needs you as much as you need her...”

“OK...”

“And there aren’t many properties in this area for sale right now. Trust me, I’ve been keeping an eye on it for a few months.”

“Of course you have.” You giggled as you propped yourself up on your hand to see him a little better.

“But, there are two different plots of land, one across the street and one a little ways up the road that are up for sale and are pretty cheap. We could possibly build a house...”

“We could... And there’s also the bottom of mom’s property...”

“What, in her yard?”

“No, the neighbor’s old garden.” You replied a you gestured in that direction. “Mom made that comment when we first moved up here, of me possibly building down there so she’s a little less alone on the mountain. If that’s not too crazy of an idea to you, we could talk to her and see if she’s still ok with something like that and maybe see if she would sell us that land. Maybe, I don’t know...”

“Honestly, knowing you as well as I do, that would be the best case scenario here.” He agreed.

“That’s not weird for you?” He smirked and shook his head as he moved his hand enough to rub your back.

“Baby, I love you. And I know that family is important to you. I knew a long time ago that we’d be living near your mother and I don’t have an issue with that now, like I didn’t when I realized that. I like your mom, she’s funny...”

“Oh, don’t ever let her hear you say that.” You laughed as you reached down to run your fingers through his dark curls.

“And I know she respects boundaries enough that it’s not going to turn into an ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’ situation. But we need to talk to her. And we need to really think about this and make sure building a house is something we wanna do right now. It takes a while to do, and there’s a chance, even if we start on Monday with talking to the city and getting the ball rolling, we might not be in the house before the baby is born... You’ve stopped listening, haven’t you?”

“No, I’m hearing you.” You said through your giant smile. 

“No you’re not.” He laughed as he sat up and gave you a chaste kiss. “We’ll talk to mom after your morning appointment.”

“You’re way to good to me.” You sighed as he got up to brush his teeth for bed.

“I’m just treating you like you deserve, sweetheart. That’s all.”

——

“OK, scale of one to ten.” Clark said behind you as you walked through your almost finished house, making sure all the details were exactly right like you did every night you got home from work. “How badly do you crave a trip to Disney?” You stopped and looked back at him before gesturing to the Disney character drawer pulls that you had put on the drawers of the dressers in your closet, and the Star Wars ones in your bathroom.

“Really?” You asked as you gestured toward the guest bathroom, that was going to be finished to look like the hallway in the Haunted Mansion, and the stacks of boxes in the master bedroom behind him of the collection of Disney things the pair of you had collected over the years. “Really?”

“So like a four?”

“Like a ten million.”

“Enough to wanna go on a short baby moon in a few weeks?”

“Is that why I was approved for my paid time off days that I never requested off?” You giggled as you turned turned back to the closet to look at the painting that got finished in there today. He laughed whole heartedly behind you and nodded his head behind your back.

“I thought I beat the response on that and we gotta use them anyways or we lose them. Hey...” You paused your inspection and turned around with your hands on your bump and your back, and he smiled and pulled you toward him by your shirt. “Let’s go to Disney for a bit. The house is close to being done, you haven’t found a single issue with it in the the last seven months, and I think we should just relax for a few days while we still can. Before Wendy comes...”

“Her name is Evangeline.” You countered with a smile. “The sooner you accept that...”

“Yea, yea, yea.” He chuckled, knowing that your daughter’s name was going to be Evangeline (since he picked it out in the first place), but just wanting to pick on you to see the cute annoyed face you gave him every time. “I’m still partial to Tegan...”

“Then you shouldn’t have given me Evangeline.” You said in a sing song voice as you turned to head back up to your mom’s place for dinner, since your kitchen was not even close to being finished yet. “It’s all your fault.”

“You haven’t given me an answer, sweetheart.”

“Why do we have to wait a few weeks to go?” You asked as you stepped over some boxes of flooring that was waiting to go in your kitchen once the island was installed.

“Because that’s the way it works.” He countered as he helped you squeeze between all of the  cabinets for the kitchen and the bathrooms that were going up later that week when the painters were done. “That’s when I could get a site at Fort Wilderness so we can use your mom’s camper to save us some money...”

“Wait, how are we affording Disney right now? We have so much money tied up in the build...?”

“I still know people working at Disney, sweetheart. So I called in a few favors from people who were more than happy to spare some tickets, let us use their discounts, and spread a little pixie dust on two expecting Disney fanatics.”

“Ok, but even still, it’s gunna cost us...” You tried as you stepped out the front door on to the porch.

“Let me worry about that.” Clark interrupted as he locked the door and you turned back to face him.

“You can’t keep doing that.” You said softly with a shake of your head. “You can’t shut me down when it comes to money anymore. I understand you want to give me the world and you don’t want me to ever have to worry, but that’s not how this works. We’re building a house, and starting a family, Clark. And you can’t take on that financial responsibility alone no matter how long you have saved up for it. You’re not the only one who has. But you have to let me... please. Because otherwise, I will keep canceling orders on things like the paint, and those drawer knobs, and these rocking chairs and rebuying them on my name, on my cards...”

“I was wondering how I had more money in my account than I should have.” He sighed as he sat down on one of the two rockers and gestured for you to sit down as well. “I don’t like it...”

“You don’t have to like it.” You grumbled as you sort of just flopped down after a long day on your feet. “Just like I don’t have to like growing a child. We still gotta do it though.” With one more sigh, he nodded and sat back in his chair.

“I’ve had money for the house for years. Evangeline is throwing me for a bit of a loop, but I um... well I opened another credit card and it’s covering her expenses...”

“Clark, you didn’t have to do that.” You sighed as you leaned to the side the slightest bit to reach out for his hand. “Because you’re not the only one saving money here. And there’s no point in me saving money just for it to gain interest in a bank when it could be used to help us better ourselves by... oh I don’t know, buying a crib and diapers and cute little dresses and sweaters and little baby booties. It can buy those towels I love for the guest bathroom, which, by the way, it already has and they will be delivered on Tuesday.”

“I thought you changed your mind on those and that’s why they were canceled.”

“Nope, just repurchased.” You clarified as you sat back to rock yourself back and forth.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He said softly after a few moments. “It’s just... hard. I was raised to be the man of the house and that leaves me with the burden.”

“And if that’s the case, then I’ll stay at home and parent. But either way, I still have money saved that can help us out here, OK? Money for a house, and a wedding. May even be able to afford a trip to Disney and the baby I’m growing, too. So you are not allowed to take on the burden of our life together alone anymore. Or you can sleep in my mom’s basement while I enjoy our house with Evangeline all by ourselves.”

“Alright, fine. You win.” He breathed with a nod. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, right?”

“Oh, don’t you know it.” You giggled as you stood up to head home. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

#clark kent x reader #clark x reader #Managed

[kyber-kisses]

Southern Nights (4/4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: it’s a little angsty, very slight canon divergence and spoilers for s12. its a bittersweet ending.

Summary: After a situation with the BMoL, Dean finds himself running towards the person he fears for the most besides his brother. But even when he finds her safe and alive, he can see that something isnt right.

A/n: final part is finally here, folks! I hope you all enjoy and pretty please tell me what you thought!

Part 1       Part 2        Part 3

You were a difficult person to keep at arms length to say the least. Because no matter how hard Dean tried, he gravitated back to you, just as you did him. You had fallen asleep hours ago, but the older Winchester drifted in and out of consciousness like the tide. At some point in the night you had found your way back to Dean, cuddling up close to him despite the still warm temperature. He should have rolled away, not given in to the temptation of you being so close, but he couldn't help it. In the darkness your cuddles were like a little touch of heaven. He wished he could extend the night just so he could stay close to you longer, safe in your embrace. Your arms wrapped around him brought a peace he had never known before. Sometimes Dean thinks its you that gives him hope for the future. That there is nothing to fear, and monsters no longer exist.

He eventually drifted off to sleep like so many times before. . .it doesn't last long though.

The neon numbers on your bedside clock read 4:23 AM when Dean suddenly felt a firm hand shake him awake, the hunter letting out a groan as he attempted to snuggle closer to you.

“Dean?”

Another groan.

“Dean.”

“What, Sam? It’s four thirty in the morning.” Dean grumbled, trying desperately to fall back asleep.

“I know we planned on leaving after breakfast but we gotta go now.”

That got Dean to pick his head off the pillow and wriggle his arm out from underneath you. “What?”

“Jody just called. She found Mom-“

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Dean slowly sat up, checking to make sure you were still asleep. “So what? Can’t that wait a few hours?”

Sam let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She attacked Jody. Tried to kill her.”

“WHat?!”

“Shh! And yes. It might be some kind of mind control- I don’t know. But we gotta hit the road.”

“Shit. Shit okay, yeah.” Throwing back the covers, Dean was out of bed in   seconds, moving out of the room to throw his belongings back into his bag.

The two worked as silently as possible, trying not to wake you from your sleep. That type of early morning sneakiness where the sounds of everything else somehow felt amplified, like the floorboards creaking or the kitchen appliances whirring. They kept as little lights on as they could, even when beginning to load up the car.

It was only when he was grabbing the last bag and flicking off the lights,  did  Dean stop in front of the doorway to your bedroom. The moonlight slipping through the open window to illuminate your sleeping figure.

There was a whispered shout from Sam at the front door, urging him to keep moving.

“Dean-“

“Just-   just give me one second.” Dropping his bag back onto the couch, Dean  made his way back into the room. He knew you would be pissed beyond belief if he left without saying goodbye. It didn't help that he didn't even want to leave in the first place, but there were people that needed saving and monsters that needed killing. Leaving you was never easy.

Sinking down softly onto the edge of the bed, Dean gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Y/N, Y/N I need you to wake up for a second.”

It took a moment but eventually you let out a soft hum.

“Sammy and I got to go. Something happened at Jody's with mom and we can’t stick around.”

Groggy with sleep, you slowly blinked awake, propping yourself up on one elbow. “What?”

“I don’t know the specifics, but I’ll call you as soon as I know.”

“Do you need me to come with?”

“No. No you stay here. You deserve a break. Rest.”

“But Dean-“

Dean only shook his head, pushing away the loose hairs around your face. “I’m gonna call you as often as I can. I don’t know when Sam and I will be able to come back down here again-“

“That’s okay. Go save your mom.” You nodded, sitting up further. “I’ll be fine here.”

“That’s another thing. If those British bastards show up-“

“Dean, if they haven’t found me now- they ain’t finding me ever.”

The moonlight cast sharp shadows across the Winchesters face as he nodded, contemplating whether or not to say one last thing.

“I should- I should probably go.”

“Here-“ already throwing back the covers you began to get up. “I’ll walk you out.”

“No,no that’s okay.” He assured you, rising from the bed. “You go back to sleep.”

“Dean-“

“I’ll call you when we cross the border. I’ll talk to you soon.” Giving you one last kiss on the cheek, Dean rose left the room, leaving you with a bundle of emotions in your chest.

Before this you hadn’t talked or seen Dean and weeks. . . And now his sudden trip here had been cut short and you didn’t know how to feel. It sort of felt like you were being taunted with a piece of meat. Now he was leaving and you had no idea when the two of you would see each other again.

You sat in silence up until your heard the front door close shut lightly and then like a switch being flicked you threw off your covers and quickly bolted through the house. No. You weren’t gonna let him leave that easily. Not without a proper goodbye. Not when he had just helped you so much with your guilt about quitting hunting. He deserved better.

“Dean!” Throwing open the screen door you skidded to a stop on the front steps, both hunters turning in surprise as the door banged shut behind you. Dean had only begun opening the drivers door when he saw you and stopped.

“Y/N?“

screw the whole hunters shouldn't get close to people rule. This was your life and you were seizing control. Ignoring the fact that the sprinklers were currently running, you took quick steps down the stairs before rushing across the wet grass, your t-shirt and sleep shorts getting soaked almost instantly.

Deans eyes widened in sudden sunrise at what you were doing. Taking his hand off the car door he quickly moved forward to catch you as your feet slipped on the grass- at least he thought you were slipping. In reality you had launched yourself into his arms, legs winding around his torso as you hugged him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he wheezed, still slightly stumbling at the sheer force of your collision before letting his arms wrap around you.

“You don't get to get off the hook that easy.” you mumbled, a silence falling over the two of you momentarily as Dean shared a confused look with his brother from over the roof of the car. Sam only shrugged. the only sound being the soft putter and hiss of the sprinklers. Somewhere nearby a dog barked.

“what?”

“that was a lame ass goodbye you gave me.” You explained, pulling back just slightly to look down at him, wet hair sticking to your face. “Plus, I needed to say thank you.”

“For what?” Deans brow furrowed as he adjusted his secure grip on you.

“For understanding why I need to take a break. For not being upset.”

“I could never be upset at you. Plus, now I don't need to constantly worry about you getting yourself killed.” He sighed, setting you back down on your bare feet. Neither of you paid attention to the slam of the car door as Sam slid into his seat, clearly trying to give the two of you a moment alone.

“fair point.”

Dean smiled as he walked you back  towards the steps of the porch. His hand clutching yours. He only paused when your feet were securely on the steps, your faces level. Giving a look back to the car and the soft rumble of the engine filling the early morning air he took a deep breath, the streetlight at the end of the dirt driveway was already pointing him in the direction he was about to travel. He hated it whenever the two of you had to go separate ways, but that was how this life worked. “I gotta get going.”

“I know.”

Dean gave you one last look before nodding, his hand slipping from yours as he made his way back across the grass. The feeling of your eyes on him giving him slight shivers.

Just get in the car and drive, Dean.

Apparently his heart had another idea, because halfway to the running vehicle he shook his head, spun on his heel and marched back towards the porch, your own retreating figure halting to look back.

“alright, now what are you doi-”

Before you can even reach the last syllable, you find his lips interlocking with yours, calloused hands moving to your cheeks as he pulled you in closer to deepen it once he felt you kiss back with wet lips, clearly having yet to wipe the water from the sprinklers from your face. You drew your tongue over his teeth and swallowed his groan as you pressed closer together, no visible gap between you, even as your hands went to his face as well.

So long. You had wanted this for so long.

Somehow for the both of you it was both a goodbye and a reason to hold on. You felt yourself tremble. You suddenly felt like a coward in that moment. You didn't want him to leave. The sun would rise in a few hours and he would be long gone by then.

Dean pulled back slightly breathless, both sets of hands refusing to move the other persons face. Why did he have to go? Why couldn't his life be simple?

“I am so in love with you.” he breathed, taking in every inch of your face and committing it to memory. “So, so in love.”

You were stunned silent for a moment, a wave of fear rippling through the Winchester as he watched you. God. He should have kept his damn mouth shut and just walked away.

But then you smiled. It crept across your face slowly in a similar fashion as a rising sun- and then you were pulling his face in again and pressing another deep kiss to his lips.

“I love you too, you bastard.”

When you pulled back you were met with the purest set of puppy dog eyes you had ever seen, the hunter looking at you like he almost couldn't believe you existed. You raised an eyebrow.

“I don't know why you look so surprised, I thought the two of us were pretty obvious.” You joked, watching as a light laugh left his lips, the same look still glued to his face. Behind him the car honked, snapping him out of his daze.

“Right- I uh- I should get going.” he swallowed, taking a step back. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

You gave him one  last soft smile, hand going up to cradle his cheek like the   night  before. “I always am Mo Graigdh. Don’t worry about me.”

“You ever gonna tell me what that actually means or you gonna leave me   hanging in suspense until I’m on my death bed?” Dean smiled, looking at you with big jade irises.

“Would it kill you to learn a language or two?”

“Probably.”

A light laugh left your lips as his blunt response. The kind that made Dean feel like he had been wrapped in sunlight.

“Well, if it matters that much to you- there’s this fun thing called the internet. It might help.”

“Haha   funny.” Letting go of your hand, Dean pressed one final kiss to your   knuckles. “Anyways, go back to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Walking back across the grass towards the car Dean gave you a salute and a wink. “Always am.”

Leaving was never easy but the older Winchester kept his composure until he   was behind the wheel. As he put the vehicle in drive and headed off down the dirt driveway he gave one last look to the rear view mirror, seeing you still standing on the porch, illuminated by the porch light as you watched them go. Dean didn't know when he would see you again, but he hoped it was sooner rather than later.

The older Winchester maybe got five minutes of silence before Sam spoke up from his spot in the passengers seat.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember that conversation we had about a year back?”

Dean paused before peeling his eyes off the road to glance at his brother. “Sammy, you're gonna have to be a little more specific than that.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at the road map in his lap. “You know, about ever wanting something more? With a hunter? Someone who understands the life?”

There was another pause as Dean focused his eyes back on the road before humming a soft response. To the east the clouds were beginning to ligthen, telling them the sun was beginning to rise and a new day was slowly rolling into motion.

“. . .is that Y/N?”

another pause.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda​​ @jordangdelacruz​​ @orphiceseum​​ @andthatsmyworld​​ @marvelfangirllll​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​ @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​​  @totallyluciferr​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​ @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​ @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​ @greenarrowhead​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​​ @brebolin​​ @biahblue​​ @noahandthegiraffe​​ @hhiggs​​ @mila-dans​​ @mrsmaybankhere​​ @malindacath​​  @littleagxs​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @idksupernatural​​​ @i-make-questionable-choices​

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #spn x reader #SPN #bi-danvers writing

[architectnews]

Auric Hall, Aurangabad

Auric Hall, Maharashtra Administration Building Development, India Office Architecture Photos

Auric Hall in Maharashtra

22 Feb 2021

Auric Hall

Architecture: IMK Architects

Location: Aurangabad, Maharashtra, western India

The Delhi Mumbai Industrial Corridor (DMIC) is one of India’s most ambitious infrastructure programs. Its goal is to develop new industrial cities as ‘Smart Cities’ and converge next-generation technologies across the infrastructure sector. Aurangabad Industrial City (AURIC) is one of the Greenfield & Smart industrial cities, being developed as part of DMIC.

Auric Hall is the landmark District Administrative Building within the Central Business District of the industrial city. It has been planned as the face of the upcoming development in the area, complementing the vision of AURIC. The building is both the monitoring and the administrative nerve center for the smart city, housing the main command control room to manage all the civic utilities on a real-time platform centrally. It offers incubation spaces to the industrial houses setting up at the township and has also been planned to operate as the anchor building that will cater to the needs of staff, visitors, and function as a sales center.

Auric Hall is also a landmark for the city of Aurangabad, designed as a transcendent, inspirational, timeless office building. It has been conceptualized as a building that creates spaces that strive to achieve innovation and transcend expectations. It is a socially responsive building, enhancing engagement with spaces where people and activities thrive. It encompasses spaces that promote the interaction of ideas to enable effective solutions.

Although the building is advanced in technology and function, it was important that the building is planned with a character that was sensitive to Aurangabad’s climate, context, and rich history.

Climatic Considerations Aurangabad features a semiarid climate with extreme temperatures and intense solar radiation coupled with low rainfall. To mitigating these climatic conditions, appropriate form and orientation of the building were considered in the design in addition to shading methods adopted on the building façade.

Historical Context In imbibing the architectural and historical values from Aurangabad’s legacy, the tradition of gates as a design element, stands out most in the historical monuments, marking and punctuating various parts of the city. Another aspect is the focus on proportion, repetition, and creation of appealing compositions amidst varied massing that integrates with the built volume.

Most of the Mughal building complexes have multiple envelopes creating a sense of enclosure. These are arranged in a series of public, semi-public, and private spaces. The first layer of spaces as you enter are lush green open spaces, nestled between a screen and the main building. The subsequent layer of public spaces are enclosures that create an approach to the beautiful refuge within, with screens that maintain the soft and natural quality of light.

Traditionally, the use of screens protects against the harsh sun. Additionally, the use of jaalis allows for the control of airflow and helps in lowering down the temperature of internal spaces while letting in diffused natural light. The use of water to control the ambient temperatures has also been used in abundance traditionally.

Auric Hall celebrates the historical glory of old Aurangabad by drawing inspiration from these traditional features and elements found in the city’s rich heritage. The building intends to bring back to life the traditional historical elements through means of modern interpretation, repetition, and symmetry, having played an essential part in the designing and conceptualizing of the structure.

Architectural Design The masterplan for AURIC city had located the administrative building in the CBD within a cluster of buildings around a public green. A natural water body was located to the north of the CBD block, away from the proposed location of AURIC Hall. IMK proposed the rearrangement of the block and relocation of AURIC Hall, such that the water body could add to the value of the spaces within this landmark building. Ceremonial gateways mark the entrances along the compound wall at the approach to the building, which acts as definite pause points. The landscaping adjoining the internal driveway is inspired by the Char Bagh concept along with a cascading water body at its center, creating a focal point at the main entrance to the building. The water body is an inspiration from the Paan Chakki within the heart of the old city. Another series of ceremonious arches mark the entrance to the building at the porch, this time in combination with intricate jaalis, that are reminiscent of the tomb complexes of the old city.

Taking its inspiration from the historic structures like Bibi-ka-Maqbara, patterns have been used in the screens that envelope the building and repeated on the glazed panels as well, echoing the theme of the building. A network of two aluminum screen modules of the same motif but varying scales forms the jaali. This breaks the monotony of the façade while helping control the light and shadow for open terraces and office spaces accordingly.

Contrasting to the external symmetry, it hides inside many asymmetric surprises. The porch leads onto a large linear and full height atrium space, enclosed by offices on three sides. The atrium was added as a modern interpretation of the garden and related most of the social spaces to face the lake. Every alternate floor has a different layout lead by strategically staggering spaces to avoid repetition and homogeneity. The building is a collage of office-spaces and terraces. Simultaneously, along with the atrium, the lift lobby and staircase connect the spaces vertically. Every lift lobby opens into green double-height terraces that face the south façade on one side and a long connecting corridor on the other.

As such, every floor has access to multiple terraces; either outdoor green terraces on the southern edge or indoor-cantilevered terraces that overlook the atrium, encouraging interaction and allowing the users of the building to thrive. These terraces serve as social spaces for the employees and offer a break-out zone from the closed indoors, to encourage engagement, collaboration, cross-pollination of ideas that would enable flourishing of the people and thereby, the organization.

Volumes and heights differ from space to space, making it a memorable experience – where the atrium is as high as the building, the terraces on the three sides are double-height, and finally, the offices’ spaces are a single floor height. Office spaces are planned as per an open plan concept to enhance interactions and productivity along with the spirit and mood of the people. They work best as they help to support an interactive environment, which will eventually help them along with the entire office to thrive.

Entry-level spaces have been designed to be free-flowing and transparent, to allow visual as well as physical connectivity throughout the ground floor, which houses all the public facilities. The reception block occupies the front of the atrium, along with the control room and visitors center, while the rear is occupied by the public relations teams. The rear blocks are a double-height extension of the atrium, providing free-flowing connectivity at the public level between the AURIC exhibition spaces, the citizen services, the cafeteria, and the toilet blocks.

AITL (Aurangabad Industrial Township Ltd) offices are planned on the topmost floors with adjoining terraces, which serve as apt viewing galleries for potential buyers who will visit the AITL offices. The atrium is intended to serve as an exhibition space, with a display of artwork, to showcase Aurangabad’s rich history. All levels corridors overlooking the atrium make it the central display area in the entire building. With the staggered terraces punctuating the atrium volume and north light filtering through the glazed façade, the atrium transforms into a vibrant center of activity, pulsating with positive energy.

Parking is provided on the surface for VIPs and for other occupants and the public at the lower ground level. The ground adjoining the parking level is at a lower level, which aids in camouflaging the parking spaces as well as the utilities, from the surrounding green spaces. A garden with a large water body lines the entrance approach, that integrates with the water recycling system, being the end of the process of aeration of recycled water.

Materials In selecting the materials, various factors were taken into consideration, besides the look and feel and aesthetics for the building.

Commercial and office spaces call for large structural grids to allow for flexibility. As such, post-tension beams were used to enable the large spans and the services height clearances required within a proportionate floor to floor height.

Steel has been used on the façade & roof truss, which are crucial elements of the building. For the larger truss span, steel was a choice due to its durability, structural flexibility, and higher load-carrying capacity. Due to the advantage of steel construction in being rapid, it was a chosen technique to fit within the constrained building completion deadline. Another strength of steel is that it can be constructed off-site and assembled on-site, which saves a lot of time, and multiple works can happen simultaneously. The external jaali façade of the building needed to be selected considering various factors- it needed to be lightweight, at the same time robust, incurring low maintenance costs and long-lasting. Laser-cut aluminium panels were finalized in comparison with alternative materials such as concrete, MS, Corten steel, or zinc.

The atrium has been provided with multiwall polycarbonate sheet roofing. This is not only light in weight and hence requires a lighter truss design, but also effectively blocks the glare and minimizes the heat gain within the atrium. This, in turn, also helps in reducing the air conditioning cost for the large atrium volume.

The large north-facing atrium façade has large glass panels with ceramic fritting. All the offices facing the atrium also have glass walls in line with the open office concept. The glass was carefully chosen again with the required technical specifications making it effective against glare, heat gain, and toughened at the same time against wind pressures and other loads.

Sustainable Design AURIC HALL has been designed incorporating climate-responsive and sustainable design practices, embodying low energy costs, and use of high-performance materials to achieve IGBC Gold Performance. The building has amazing daylight with minimal heat gain. It is a functionally efficient building, well-integrated with natural features and landscape within the site to create an interesting blend of the built form and semi-covered or open spaces while meeting access, parking, and other on-site requirements.

The building is oriented to allow maximum glare-free light into the office spaces, while simultaneously minimizing heat gain. The layout consists of the large central north-facing atrium, maximized with a glass surface to optimize the daylight from the north, with office blocks abutting it on the other three sides, wrapped with an intricate modular jaali. The atrium width, as well as the width of the offices surrounding it, was controlled to ensure maximum daylighting. The jaali screen controls the airflow and lowers the temperature of internal spaces, while also providing natural diffused sunlight into the building. The atrium is covered with a skylight at the roof level made of polycarbonate sheets that permit glare-free light but block the heat gain.

Water conservation measures have been adopted by maximizing landscape plantation areas with controlled irrigation measures. Additionally, the runoff from the paved surfaces, as well as the terraces are harvested by allowing for groundwater recharge. The use of efficient plumbing fixtures and installation of wastewater treatment systems further aids the same. The use of solar panels and energy metering and management systems facilitates energy efficiency while CO2 monitoring enables indoor environmental quality control.

The Auric Hall design lends a fresh contemporary touch to the traditional Mughal Architecture. The choreography of light and shadows, created by the intricacies in the bold Jaali patterns engulfing the building, along with elaborate yet structurally minimalistic gateways, form a fascinating storyline. A precise harmony of Proportion, rhythm, materials, textures, details, and beauty is achieved to craft a functional and robust office space that sets a new paradigm amidst such institutional buildings.

Inaugurated by the Prime Minister of India, Mr. Narendra Modi in September 2019, AURIC Hall is not only meaningful in its objective, but also manifests itself as indigenous, leading edge of people’s highest aspirations, whilst allowing people to thrive in its environs.

Project Takeaways IMK was involved in the design process right from the concept and through detail design towards tender with the clients, and as part of the design and build team towards execution.

The experience of working with a construction company was unique. The focus, in addition to design functionality and aesthetics, is also on the optimization of designs both in terms of performance as well as costs. Although, as architects, we approach any project holistically, our focus most often than not, is more on design, (mainly functionality and aesthetics), and achieving this intent as best we can. The additional aspect addressed here is achieving the desired design intent in the most economical, but sound and robust way.

Auric Hall in Maharashtra, India – Building Information

Architects: IMK Architects

District Administration Building in Aurangabad

Area: 2.5 Lac Sq.Ft Location: Aurangabad, Maharashtra, western India Status: Completed Client: AITL (Aurangabad Industrial Township Limited)

Products / Vendors ACP / Glass / Concrete – Danpalon /Asahi/ Sanitary ware / Fittings – Hindware / Jaquar Flooring- AGL tiles / Volacus Marble Furnishing- Vista Blinds Furniture – Wipro/ Featherlite Air Conditioning- Zamil India BMS – Honeywell Lighting – Wipro Paint – Asian Paints/Berger Arts / Artefacts – Elevator – Otis

Consultants Structural – Shapoorji Pallonji And Company Private Limited (SPCPL) ( [email protected] ) & R.S. Mandrekar Civil and Structural Consultant ( [email protected] ) Mechanical – SPCPL & Dikshit Consultants and Engineers Pvt. Ltd. Electrical – SPCPL & Dikshit Consultants and Engineers Pvt. Ltd. Civil – SPCPL & R.S. Mandrekar Civil and Structural Consultant ([email protected]) HVAC – SPCPL & Dikshit Consultants and Engineers Pvt. Ltd. Plumbing – SPCPL & Dikshit Consultants and Engineers Pvt. Ltd. ( [email protected] ) Landscape – IMK Architects PMC – SPCPL Façade – FCD Engineering – SPCPL

Contractors Structural -SPCPL Mechanical – SPCPL Electrical – Alfadeal Civil – SPCPL HVAC – Zamil India Plumbing – SPCPL Façade – Chiniwala Facades/Glazium Facades/ New Look Interiors Engineering – SPCPL

Auric Hall, Aurangabad images / information received 220221

Location: Aurangabad, state of Maharashtra, west India, south Asia

Indian Architecture

Contemporary Architecture in India – architectural selection below:

Indian Architecture Designs – chronological list

Indian Architecture News

Another Indian residence by Sunil Patil & Associates on e-architect:

Wanzare Bungalow, Pune, Maharashtra, western India photo : Hemant Patil Wanzare Bungalow in Pune

Indian Architect – design firm listings on e-architect

Maharashtra Buildings

Week End House in Pune Architecture: Sunil Patil & Associates photo : Hemant Patil New House in Pune

Hyatt Regency Pune photo : Ruchika Grover Hyatt Regency Pune

YMCA Campsite Nilshi image from CCBA Architects YMCA Campsite Nilshi

Comments / photos for the Auric Hall, Aurangabad building design by Sanjay Puri Architects page welcome

Website: Sunil Patil & Associates

The post Auric Hall, Aurangabad appeared first on e-architect.

#e-architect

[a-disaster-more-or-less]

Facial Feedback Theory

You find yourself in a hotel in an unfamiliar town, surrounded by comfortingly emotionless floors and identical hallways and patterned carpets and barely-heard snippets of conversations that tell stories of lives that have nothing to do with you. The soulless art in the hallways on your floor look so different, and yet similar enough to make you second guess if this is the way to your room every time you walk the path.

You sat at the side of an indoor pool for three hours. Two separate people have passed by in the hours you’ve been still and neither of them talked to you or swam into your direct line of sight. They weren’t unfriendly. They were content to stay happy in solace, time and quiet lapping of waves surround them with memories foreign to you. The scent of chlorine diluted your senses and surrounded the world in a haze. It is not advisable to sit next to the spa pool for periods longer than 15 minutes. It is not advisable to sit in the spa if you are under the age of 13. It is not advisable to sit near the spar for extended periods of time if you are pregnant, have neck injuries, have spine injuries, or are suffering from an illness. You wonder if you are sitting near the spa. You wonder if you are any of those things. You think you remember your thirteenth birthday.

You walked back to your room long after the pool should have been closed to guests. The carpet beneath your bare feet was the most you’ve felt in a long time. The small white towel slung around your waist was clean and registered as warm to more than one of your senses. There was a bin in your room to collect guest’s towels. At least you thought there was. You hope so. You vaguely feel that stealing is bad, which is odd, because it’s just a towel. There are quite literally hundreds, and taking it to your room isn’t really stealing, because it’s not really your room. But the voice in your head persists. Stealing is bad. The towel will be returned.

There is a woman in the lobby who smiles at you from behind a desk. She knows that you are a guest. She doesn’t need to talk to you though, you are not checking in.

She smiles anyway.

It is very late at night. Maybe very early in the morning.

You aren’t sure anymore.

She asks if you are alright while handing you a paper cup with lemon water.

You take the cup. You don’t remember there being a water dispenser anywhere near the woman.

She asks if you are alright.

She has a smile on her face and you think it’s odd how happy she is this late at night.

She asks if you are alright.

She has a smile on her face and you think it’s odd how happy she is this early in the morning.

The lights in the lobby are warm, but the lemon water is cold, and the lights aren’t actually that bright because there are shadows in the corners and very far behind you and the woman behind the desk is still smiling and she feels warmer than the lights and the desk between you is cool and worn and her smile seems sadder than you thought originally and there are a hundred ways you could answer her question and there are a hundred towels that you could steal but aren’t going to and there are a hundred answers on your tongue but open your mouth and you say none of them.

You sip from the paper cup, which is cool in your palm, but you don’t answer the woman.

She nods in understanding and disappears through a doorway behind the desk.

She doesn’t come back out.

There are no customers this late at night.

Your best friend is 8,000 miles away and there’s a phone ringing somewhere where you aren’t there to pick it up.

Your father is on a worn couch with a sharp metal cap dancing between his fingers, and thinking of things far beyond you.

Your neighbor is out with his wife who doesn’t love him and who he doesn’t know beyond her favorite color and drink, wondering if a divorce is worth the effort it would take, he wonders if you know anything about his life.

Your elementary school crush has a daughter who knows nothing about you or her parents and feels nothing towards anything and wants to know why.

Your mother’s best friend who isn’t actually your uncle is holding a pill he doesn’t want to take and wondering if it’s been too long since he last visited you.

Your thirteen-year-old self is in the room you just left, staring up from the bottom of the pool, thrashing and screaming while pounding at the surface of the water but unable to break through the fragile surface tension. The chlorine eats away at your former self’s tears and leaves tracks of acid running down their cheeks. You don’t remember leaving them there. You don’t remember what they were wearing. You don’t remember why they were there. You think they might have been pointing accusingly at the towel around your waist as you walked out the door.

Maybe you should go back to the closed pool and tell the child in the reflection that you’re not stealing. You should explain it to them, assure them. You should go back to the pool and remind them that it’s closed. You should remind them that you’re not thirteen and shouldn’t be there. You remember your thirteenth birthday. You don’t think they should be there, you don’t think they should be thirteen. You don’t think you are thirteen. You don’t think you can breathe underwater. You think you remember your thirteenth birthday, and you think you don’t like stealing. You think that stealing is against the rules. You think that the person in the pool shouldn’t be there. They shouldn’t be there after hours. You shouldn’t be there after hours. You should tell them that you didn’t mean to steal the towel. You should tell them you’re sorry. You should apologize.

You should apologize.

You should do a lot of things.

The elevator in the hotel dings one too many times and the door opens more slowly than it should. The flower in the vase by the elevator is in perfect health but it looks sad. It’s weird that the flower looks sad because it’s a flower and not a person and it doesn’t have a face to look sad with and it is in perfect health and it’s a mystery who waters these plants and is that person happy and do they think that the plants look sad anyway too? Someone said that the muscles in your face control emotion and thats why a plant couldn’t be sad but you think that maybe that person was a little bit too happy or maybe a bit stupid because people smile for too many reasons and not all of them are happy. The muscles in your face can’t control emotion because people don’t always show what they feel like the people who smile when they’re sad or the people who laugh when they’re angry or don’t smile when they are happy and maybe the plant could smile too if it had a face with human muscles but it would still be sad. It doesn’t matter what the plant feels because plants don’t have emotions and if they did it wouldn’t matter because humans wouldn’t know and wouldn’t care. The emotions that plants can or cannot feel don’t intersect with the range of emotions and perceived importance of senses and chemicals that humans can or cannot feel. The elevator door dings shut, once again ringing one too many times and closing slower than it should.

There’s a painting on the wall with no signature and somehow it’s unique without being special and there’s chlorine on your skin and you think that acid would feel worse. You want to pick up a call from your best friend that you don’t know is there and you want to visit your father. You think that you should tell your neighbor that relationships are worth effort but his happiness is worth more and his wife deserves to feel compassion and love for someone but you might want to tell him that his porch has screens but no soundproofing and he might want to get his hearing checked first. You should tell your classmate’s daughter that she deserves to know something and above else deserves to know herself but it might be difficult because you don’t know her either and you don’t remember her parent’s name. You should tell your uncle that his happiness is worth everything and that he owes it to himself to at least try and that you always thought he really was your uncle and he should visit more so you can understand why he isn’t. You should give the child in the water the towel. That’s why they’re upset, isn’t it? You should give yourself the towel, you didn’t mean to steal because stealing is bad but you should tell them not to break the rules too because they’ll remember won’t they? You should tell them that the pool is closed. You should give them the towel because they’re crying and chlorine shouldn’t do that to tears but acid probably hurts and the hotel has more towels and the hotel has rules and they’re thirteen so they’re technically allowed in the spa but maybe crying acid is an illness and that would be against the rules and you could give them the towel but then the towel would be wet and if they took it from you it would stay under the water and the towels are supposed to stay dry and maybe they don’t understand because they’re thirteen and they’ve been in the water a long time and the pool is closed and maybe you should just return the towel and apologize instead and you should tell them that you’re not stealing and you should apologize because they’re angry and crying and upset and in pain and you should apologize and you should apologize. The woman behind the desk had a question that you didn’t answer but it seemed ok because she didn’t seem upset because she was smiling but she still looked sad even though she was smiling and she left and there was a plant with a human face that was smiling but was still sad too but plants don’t have human faces or human muscles and someone said that facial muscles cause emotion so the plant can’t be sad because it was healthy and had no face and it was pretty and the elevator might be broken just a little bit and lemon water is cool and you should feel temperature with your skin but you feel it inside of you and all your skin feels is chlorine and the carpet is patterned and the art on the walls have colors but don’t feel colorful and you weren’t near the spa but but maybe you shouldn’t have stayed so long anyway and the acid on your cheeks burn and you aren’t thirteen but you don’t remember your thirteenth birthday and you don’t remember your thirteenth birthday and the towel is damp and are you alright?

You don’t remember your thirteenth birthday.

Are you alright?

You don’t remember your thirteenth birthday and there’s a deep hole in the ocean filled with a hundred answers that surround you in the water and a hundred towels couldn’t dry up that much water and a hundred reasons not to steal a towel are drowning you because it’s not stealing and you want to answer a question but you breathe to speak and the water tastes like chlorine and someone is walking away and they’re stealing a towel and don’t they know that stealing is bad and you’re not thirteen.

You’re not thirteen... right?

#writing #writers on tumblr #short story #cryptic #vibe check

[vampirefreakism]

The Scientist (Chapter 51)

Summary: In the events following Asgard’s destruction, Loki finds himself on Earth seeking refuge to await the inevitable. Much to his surprise, it comes from a source he would never have expected.

Warnings: science, mentions of sharp objects, some cutting, not bad, cool stuff

Word count: 5k

The AO3, Wattpad, and Spotify links are all available on the MasterList

Masterlist

———-

A/N: Hello, folks! New chapter! Yay! Alrighty, we are revisiting the lab again! More science and such things and the like. Gonna look back at the rose and the zebrafish from all those chapters ago. Remember the fish? The zebrafish Luna did some gene-splicing experiment on after the worm? I sure do. Yes, I know I haven't mentioned it in a while, but that's because there were more notable things to talk about first. We need a little mundanity now and then. Also, it's been about 5 chapters, so it's high time for more music!

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The remaining vacation days were as unexciting as the duo had hoped. They visited a couple museums, a restaurant for dinner and a café for lunch, and then returned home. It was a smooth ride, save for a spot of traffic in the afternoon. Luna gave herself enough time to account for such instances so she wouldn't worry herself. Naturally, Loki slept for most of the journey, but not before taking Luna’s hand in his and holding it for as long as he could. He was glad she didn’t demand an explanation because he hadn’t prepared one.

Another day of rest and unwinding in the apartment and Luna was back on the grind at work. Though she'd been away for a week, it felt like an eternity. As she walked into the building and to the lab, she was tempted to turn back around and go somewhere else. Anywhere other than the workplace. But she kept going, scanning her card and making herself known.

“Hello, miss,” FRIDAY said as Luna stowed away her bags and jacket, “welcome back.”

“Hello, FRIDAY. It’s good to be back.”

“How was your vacation? Eventful, I hope.”

Luna chuckled and shrugged on her lab coat. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“No, I wouldn’t, would I?” FRIDAY snarked a little.

��Any messages for me?”

“A few from Mr. Stark, but no high-priority items.”

“Ok. What are they about?”

“He wants a lab meeting soon.” Luna’s body stiffened. It’d been a while since she talked about her work with him. She didn’t know what she’d tell him.

But she huffed and snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. “Alright. I’ll see him about that later. Thanks, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome. Care for any music while you work?”

“Uh, yeah. Just throw on whatever.” As Luna unlocked a drawer and took out her lab notebook, ‘Twilight Zone’ played through the room speakers. Her ears perked up at the familiar notes. “Ooh, nice,” she said, turning to the last page she wrote in before vacation. Bobbing her head, she read over the tasks for the day. First things first, she needed to clean and change the filters to the fish tank.

As far as she could tell, the little fish was thriving. It swam contentedly about its tank and pecked at any particles it saw. Luna checked the UV light and changed the active-carbon filter. The filter pad was nearly black with sediment and dirt. Cringing, she folded it up and slid a new one in place. The pH and temperature levels in the water remained steady and fluctuated within the safe zones for them. Luna was thankful. She would have hated to have come back to an emergency.

Rinsing her hands off, she gingerly disconnected the pumps to the tank and took it to the sink. Her little fish didn’t seem perturbed by the sudden movement, though it did thrash a bit as Luna lifted it out with a net. She silently apologized to it. She didn’t mean to cause it any distress. It calmed down once it was in the fresh tank and knew everything was ok again. As an added comfort, Luna gave it a bit of dry food, and it inhaled all of it before it was back under the care of the system. She connected the tank back to the water pumps and breathed a sigh of relief. One job is done for the day.

As Luna cleaned the old tank and net with ethanol, her music cut out, and FRIDAY's voice came back on.

“Miss, Mr. Stark is on the line.”

Luna nodded, not stopping her scrubbing. “Yeah, yeah. Patch him through.”

“Long time, no talk, Baby,” Tony’s voice greeted her.

She laughed. “Hey, Tony. So we’re back to that now?”

“We sure are.” She heard a few faint metallic clangs. “How was your break?”

Luna slowed her hands. “It was, uh, good,” she lied.

“Just ‘good.’? What’d you do, anyway?”

“Mm, nothing much. Relaxed at home, went out to museums, and cooked stuff.” She lied right through her teeth, but lucky for her, Tony didn’t have to see her lack of a poker face.

“What about your guy?”

Luna nervously shuddered. “What about him?”

“Anyone recognize him?”

“We had a couple close calls, but nothing anyone can pin.”

“Good, because I seriously don’t know if I could take it if you two got into trouble. My blood pressure is teetering as it is, and Pepper would have the whole barn. You know, not just the cow.”

“And that’s why I stay out of trouble.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Aw, thanks.” Luna smiled. There was a loud bang over the speakers, followed by some repetitive whirring. “Hey, what are you even doing over there to make that much noise?”

“Uh, well, right now, I am on the ceiling.”

Luna set her hands on the edge of the sink. “You’re … you’re on the ceiling? Like, upside-down?”

“Yup. Trying out a new feature in the suit.”

“A feature that lets you … stand on the ceiling?”

“Not just stand. I can walk around, too. See?” A few more taps and whirs came through like Tony was walking around. “Oh, wait, no. Sorry. You can’t see.” Luna let out a loud laugh and resumed scrubbing the tank.

“What are you planning on using it for? Taking a trip to a place with microgravity?”

“Can never be too careful.” Tony paused, and some beeping filled the silence. “By the way, I was going through some of you-know-who’s phone history, and honestly, I don’t know what I expected.”

“What did you see?”

“Don’t you know? I thought you two were, like, the best of friends, or something.”

“Save for a few things, he never shows me what's on his phone, and I never ask."

“Hm. Anyway, his most recent searches were pictures of raccoons, articles about himself, conspiracy theories, and more pictures of himself.” He scoffed. “As if his ego wasn’t big enough already.”

“Heh, not as big as his dick,” she chuckled under her breath, but to her dismay, she was heard loud and clear.

“Excuse me?!” Tony yelled, followed by a thunderous crash. Luna winced as she pictured him falling spectacularly to the floor.

“Whoops, sorry, gotta go!” she called out, waving her hand to cut the transmission.

“Why would you say something like that?!”

“Hanging up now! Bye!” She gestured frantically, and the call cut out. Groaning as loud as she could, she hung her head. “I can’t believe myself sometimes.” She dried off the outside of the old tank, set it aside to air-dry, and dried her own hands. “Alright, what else is there to do?” She flipped back a page in her notebook. “Ah, yes, that's right," she stated through her teeth.

Her next possible point was to test the new virus on a live subject i.e., her own self.

Luna did a set of three things: stare at the floor, staring at the wall, then sit in a chair and stare at the ceiling. Of all the things she should be doing now, she did none of them, and she thought of nothing. A horrible thing to do in a lab filled with items of dubious safety, but she did it anyway.

Getting tired of thinking of nothing, she pictured something in her mind to fill it. She thought of the trees outside, birds flying high, and the porch by the river. Things that brought her peace and made her believe everything was alright. And as far as her life was concerned, few things were alright but not as many as she would like. She was saddled with issues out of her control, Tony was an anxious wreck most of the time, and Loki held the weight of several worlds on his shoulders. She always wanted to try and fix things for her friends, but she had to remind herself that it was impossible. A wish had to stay a wish.

Luna quickly got fed up with looking from an empty white space to another empty white space and decided to take a walk down the hall. She left everything stowed and locked in the lab, toting only her music along. She needed to manifest some semblance of privacy while in public, and the music did an excellent job.

Hands in her pockets, she moseyed to the lobby and stared out the giant floor-to-ceiling windows. It was a great design choice to open up the room to the world outside. Now she could see the trees and the birds she imagined. She’d seen them hundreds of times during all the seasons she was here, and it never got old.

Luna opened up her music app and hit shuffle on the ‘suggestions’ list. A new sound graced her ears. She looked down at the screen, furrowing her brow, and read the title. ‘Holding On’ by Nightly. It was new. Very new, and she liked it. She added it to her favorites list and put the device back in her pocket.

She knew the scientific procedure. It was simple: defrost the RePri virus, inflict a small injury to an inconspicuous place on her body, and inject the virus to the wound site. All to test how quickly it could heal surface injuries on a human with matched DNA. It was easy to write down and easy to conceptualize, but everything else was hard. The dilemma at hand reminded her of a phrase she heard a long time ago: ‘your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn't stop to think if they should.’ A classic line from a classic film, and said by a fake scientist in a fake scenario.

However, being the real scientist in the room, it hit Luna hard. It was true that just because someone can do something, they shouldn’t necessarily do it. The presence of ‘can’ doesn’t automatically mean ‘everything will be fine.’

But Luna had a curious soul. Always eager to find things out and learn about them. She never felt there should be a limit to knowing things, but plenty of people with more power than her certainly did. Such people frightened her, especially the ones she had in mind concerning her work. S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever they called themselves now, and groups like them. She heard about what they would do to scientists they were interested in. Jane Foster was a lucky one.

If they found out what Luna was doing, they would steal everything and erase her, or rope her into working for them and make her do whatever they wanted. Tony managed to avoid joining them by intimidating or buying his way out of surveillance via bountiful benevolence. Still, people like Luna were considered nothing but stepping stones to an end product.

On the other hand, what if she succeeded in hiding her project from the world? And kept testing the virus on herself and choice specimens. Say something went wrong, and Luna hurt herself in a way she couldn't fix. What would become of her? How would she explain it to Tony? He would lose all trust in her for keeping this a secret. How would she explain it to Loki? Would he have compassion? He was undoubtedly intelligent, but would he understand? Or would he be enraged that she used him for her own purposes? It tore at her heart. He would believe she thought nothing of his past pain and the courage it took to reveal a piece to her. He would think her heartless and precisely like everyone else. She’d lose him, and for what?

Luna felt a sharp tap on her shoulder. It startled her, and she jumped. She tore the earbuds from her ears and abruptly turned around, clutching her chest.

“Dammit, Tony!” she chastised. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, Lu,” he said, suppressing a giggle.

“Why are you here? Why couldn’t you have called me?”

“Uh, because sometimes, direct confrontation is the best thing.”

“What for?”

Tony stepped closer. “For that joke you made.”

But Luna played dumb. “What joke?” She wanted him to say it.

“The … you know.”

“Why you mad? You make jokes like that all the time.”

Tony huffed. “Yeah, but not you and not about him.” He sighed. “I don’t want you getting friendly.”

“What wrong with being nice, Tony?”

“There’s nice, there’s your level of nice, and then there’s too nice.” He pointed at her. “Don’t even think about getting too nice.”

Luna looked down at his hand and smiled, moving it aside. “It’s never even crossed my mind.”

Tony straightened up and brushed a hand through his hair. He looked her up and down and glanced outside. “So what are you doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be working?”

Luna swallowed. “Uh, yes. I am. Just, uh, waiting for something to defrost.” She waved a hand. “You know how long that can take.”

“In a way. So why not wait in the lab?”

“It’s dull in there. Besides, I'm keeping track of the time. Figured I would take a walk instead and check how my flower is growing. It’s been a little while, and can’t a girl check on her flower?” Tony opened his mouth to say something, and Luna lightly swatted his chest. “And don’t even think about saying what I think you’re about to say.”

He laughed and raised his hands. “Promise.” Rubbing his hands together, he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Alright. Well, don’t take too long. And no more jokes like that about you-know-who.”

Luna stepped back and gave him a mock salute. “Ay, ay, sir. Read you loud and clear.” Tony rolled his eyes, smirking, and made for the staircase on the other side.

Alone again, Luna groaned as she took off her glasses and put a hand over her face. "Ugh, what is wrong with me?" Grinding her teeth, she put her earbuds back in and restarted the song. It was good, and she wasn't sick of it yet.

She headed for the greenhouse as she fake-promised Tony. He had his eyes and ears almost everywhere, and she needed to keep up her lie. But it wasn’t all bad. It’d been a while since she'd last seen it, and she did need to check on its progress. On the trip there, all thoughts of her work vanished and were replaced with anticipation for the plant. Was it doing well? Did it bloom? Was it budding yet? Her pace quickened with her growing excitement, and in no time, she was there.

The warmth and humidity was a welcome difference from the cold, dry outside. The vegetables looked vibrant and lush, especially the tomatoes. Luna was tempted to snatch one and use it for dinner, but she hesitated. One tomato wasn't worth all the trouble if she was caught, and she was sure she had a proper one waiting on her kitchen counter.

Keeping her head down to avoid more distraction, she continued to the back where Tony’s personal garden sat. In and among the various flowers he kept was Luna’s rose. She crouched down and inspected it. As expected, it was much bigger than before. It had sprung a couple new leaves, and on the top, a sizeable bud had formed.

“Oh, hello there,” Luna said, reaching out to stroke it. She could see a speck of blue peeked out from bud’s seams. “You gonna come out soon? Hm?” She smiled wholeheartedly.

As she picked up the watering can, she could hardly contain herself. After months of waiting and gentle caring, she'll see the fruits of her labor. The flower will bloom, and she'll be able to bring it home to Loki. But once more, she second-guessed herself. Would he like it? Would it be too much? He told her about it only once in a passing story months ago. Would he read it as creepy, obsessive behavior? Maybe not. He properly confided in her now. They knew things about each other no one else did in the entire universe. Perhaps it wouldn't be too much. Maybe he would love it.

But if he didn’t, and rejected it, Luna would keep it for herself. At the end of the day, it was still the plant she raised from a seed. She would love it and care for it no matter what.

She stroked one of its leaves one more time and left. She'd spent enough time there, and any more would arouse suspicion. Well, she didn't know for sure, but it wasn't worth the risk. Besides, the plant wasn’t going anywhere.

Loki consumed Luna's thoughts on the way back to the lab. She knew so much about him, but at the same time, she knew very little. He shared as he wanted, and she did the same, but now with what she knew, what more could he be hiding? He had enough scars to last a few lifetimes – and to be fair, she did too – but she knew where she got hers and why. Where did Loki get his? And why did he have them?

Luna sat down at the lab bench and contemplated her questions. She wondered if it could have been someone he was close with, maybe family, but she quickly scratched the idea. Family could be cruel, but Loki said he’d been captured. It would have involved being far away from home, not in the depths of it. The injuries would have had to be recent to heal and fade as they did, but Asgardian physiology was different. Luna didn’t have the knowledge to know only by looking at them. And it was insensitive to ask outright. Whatever happened to him was severely traumatizing.

In a flash, something resurfaced in her mind, like a ping in a sea of silence. A memory from when she was still getting comfortable with having Loki in her home. When she was first starting her research into his genetic code.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. security videos from 2012. Loki had made passing threats and said some grave things, but thinking back on them now, Luna felt very unsettled. But she couldn’t remember exactly what he said. At least not at the top of her head.

“Hey FRIDAY, can we switch to my private server, please? And secure my connection?” Luna said into the air.

“Certainly.” FRIDAY opened up the interface and virtual files. “Is there anything in particular you need?”

“Yes. Show me those old S.H.I.E.L.D. videos again. The ones from when Loki came here.” The files spanned the screen. “Can you play the first one?” It opened up and played from the beginning.

Agents and scientists milled around, checking their computer screens and tablets. One of them poked at a device near the middle of the room. Luna assumed it to be the Tesseract. It fizzed and sputtered, and a beam of light shot from it, conjuring a portal. From the chaos and darkness, Loki appeared. Luna flinched at the sounds of guns firing and knives being thrown. It was all so violent. She looked away and waited for it to end.

“Please don’t.” Loki’s voice resounded from the video. Luna looked back up. “I still need that.” His attention was directed to a man in a black coat.

“This doesn’t have to get any messier,” the man said quietly.

“Of course it does,” Loki retorted. Luna shook her head, feeling grim. “I’ve come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“Loki?” Someone else interjected with a start. “Brother of Thor?”

The first man turned and faced him. “We have no quarrel with your people.” He tried to placate, but Loki wasn’t having it.

“An ant has no quarrel with a boot.”

Luna’s feet grew cold.

“You planning to step on us?”

“I come with glad tidings,” Loki reassured, “of a world made free.”

“Free from what?”

“Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie.”

“No,” Luna whispered, leaning closer.

“Once you accept that, in your heart,” Loki turned around and pointed the scepter at the second man, “you will know peace.”

“Pause,” Luna commanded as she rose to her feet. Loki was now standing in full view of the camera. "Can we zoom in on his face and keep the image clear?"

"Certainly," FRIDAY said and did as she asked.

Loki’s face filled the screen. It was a bit blurry at first, but the program quickly enhanced it. His appearance here was profoundly different from the images of him used by the news programs. His skin was pale and shiny like he'd been sweating profusely, and his eyes were ringed in dark circles. But the look they held told a more in-depth story. They were distant and foggy, like everything he was seeing was far away. Luna's stomach turned, and she dropped back down into her seat. The drained complexion, the clammy skin, and the hazy eyes: all telltale signs of shock. She wouldn’t be surprised if his breathing and walking were labored.

She put her head in her hands, trying to control her swirling thoughts. It was all so much. The vague story he told her in the hotel troubled her greatly, and now this? She felt like she was reaching, but if there was a connection between Loki’s scars and his appearance here, it spelled something very sinister. There was no doubt the injuries he sustained would have led to him going into shock, either from blood loss or infection or both, but if this was when it happened? Luna felt a little woozy and rested her elbows on her knees.

Staring at the floor, she was overcome with the urge to embrace him. Her Loki. The one she recently spent a week sleeping with, in the literal sense. But also the Loki on the computer screen. The one who looked like he went from the frying pan and into the fire. He was in trouble, and he needed help.

Luna missed him dearly. She missed having him in her bed, going to sleep close to him, and waking up closer. Spending a full day with him in pure bliss, talking about anything, and not being afraid of what he would say. Feeling free for the time being and seeing him have a similar expression. Holding his hand for no other reason than to feel him.

Luna looked back up at the screen, still frozen on Loki’s menacing façade. She reached out and traced the curve of his jaw.

"What happened to you?" she whispered but received no answer. The Loki she knew hated being trapped. He enjoyed his freedom and the peace he felt with her. The words he spoke in the video weren’t his, at least, not naturally. He had been forced to love his cage, and his words were a result of it.

Luna took her glasses off, covered her face, and groaned loudly. She had to stop thinking about it. There was no way to tell unless she asked him, and she wasn’t planning on it anytime soon. It was awful to make up stories about things she didn’t know and an absolute waste of her time. She needed to get back to work.

She pulled on some fresh gloves and opened the freezer. The virus vials were where she left them, waiting for her to thaw them out. She took them, set them in a hot water bath, and let them melt. Like expected, it took longer than usual thawing sessions. It never ceased to cling to the cold.

Luna got her notebook, pen, and timer ready and made a trip down the hall for antiseptic wipes and fresh syringes. The box of micropipettes was full, and all the devices worked as they should.

“FRIDAY, turn everything off and go dark. I’m going to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“But, miss, if something were to happen -”

“But nothing,” Luna said confidently. “I can do it.”

“Alright. Going dark.” And FRIDAY switched off. No more coms or voice-command and the computer screen went blank.

“Ok,” she said, pulled out the now-thawed vial. “Let’s test you first.”

Luna prepared a microscope slide and turned on the corresponding machine. Using a fresh syringe, she dropped a half a milliliter of her blood onto the glass, along with the same amount of the virus. As she applied pressure to the puncture wound on her arm, she observed the activity of the cells through the eyepiece. She kept track of the time and sat for about five minutes, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. No spontaneous rupturing and no odd coloring. It looked like the last few times she’d done it.

Leaning back from it, she wrote down her observations and looked to the MicroFluid machine. She slid the microscope slide into the designated slot and turned it on. The computer screen came to life with an interface for the device. Luna sighed. Of course, she'd have to interpret the information manually.

In no time, she received the results she expected; the virus is compatible with her cells and bonded with them completely. Her testing continually remained successful outside of her body, but now she had to test it in real-time.

Luna’s hands and knees shook aggressively on the way to and back from the supply closet. Her goal was to get a sterile razor. The idea of holding it in her hand made her sick, but she was using it for an intellectual purpose. It wasn't like all the other times she'd held one, and she knew so, but the real trouble was believing it. Brains were tricky that way. They believed whatever was most comfortable for them to believe.

She closed and locked both lab doors behind her and taped pieces of scrap paper over the windows. No one in or out until she was done. Now, she had to decide where to test the virus.

She looked at her forearm and shook her head. If the experiment didn’t work, it would be obvious what she’d done, and it was sporting a pinprick anyway. It was also a particularly dangerous spot to pick. She hovered a hand over her stomach. No, the skin was too pliable, and it moved too much as she breathed. She looked down at her legs. The skin there was more durable, and she could keep it still as long as she needed, and if it didn't work, it wasn't anything long pants, and a bandage couldn’t hide.

Luna spread some paper towels on the stool by the bench and ripped off her old gloves. Bare-handed, she eased her pants down as far as they would go and sat on the towels. A lab conduct rule popped up in her mind: no exposed skin above the knee or elbow. Well, she’d broken several science rules already, so it hardly mattered now.

She cleaned the area of skin above the side of her right knee, and with a plastic ruler, measured two inches above it and put down a dot with a felt tip pen. From that point, she measured another inch and made another dot. Letting the alcohol dry, she made a note of everything in her notebook. She slipped on a pair of new gloves and opened up another syringe. Taking a deep breath, she opened up the virus vial, extracted one milliliter of liquid, and capped the needle. It was always good to start small.

Now it was time to get the show on the road. Luna picked up the razor and cleaned with antiseptic for good measure. She felt sweat start to congregate where it shouldn’t. There was no reason for her to be scared. She’d handled sharp things for most of her life, she’d tested the virus umpteen times, and she knew she was smart. She knew what she was doing. No one else did, but her.

“I’m smart. I know what I’m doing,” Luna thought to herself. She closed her eyes and repeated the phrase in her head. As of right now, the worst thing that could happen was nothing at all.

Luna opened her eyes and, without a moment spared to hesitate, made the one-inch incision. It burned and stung as she expected it to. She uncapped the needle and injected it about one centimeter from the injury site. Setting the two objects aside for disposal, she started the timer. Now to wait and see how fast it worked, if it worked at all.

30 seconds in, the stinging ebbed away to a dull ache.

Another minute, the bleeding stopped.

Two minutes in, all feelings of pain were gone, and the skin started to fill in.

Three minutes in, the wound was barely visible. It felt a bit itchy, and Luna made a note of it.

Four and a half minutes in, it fully healed to a dark pink line as a blue bruise formed around it.

Luna stopped the timer and made her last observation. She set her pen down, eyes glued to the newly-healed bit of skin. The bruising was unaccounted for, and it felt a little cold. She hovered her hand over it and lightly touched it. She winced prematurely, but it didn’t hurt. A harder press confirmed it. It tingled, but the skin was completely healed. A wound that would have taken a couple days to a week to close was done in about five minutes.

Smiling widely, Luna was beside herself. Tears prickled at her eyes as pride filled her to the brim. She did it. She did it all by herself. It was like the saying, 'curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.' In all intents and purposes, she felt very much like the cat, newly reborn and very satisfied.

She still had a lot to do; more experiments and tests to run and hypotheses to answer. But for now, she reveled in this victory. It was enough for today.

----------

A/N: Yes, I know I didn’t mention anywhere that a special tank system was set up for the fish, and that’s because I’m a little bit dumb. There’s a whole maintenance procedure and housing system for laboratory animals like the zebrafish (duh). I personally never worked with any, but I read enough lab papers to get a feel for it. Also, since this is still set in 2018, I had to label the song as ‘new,’ even though right now it’s not XP and yes, I had to quote Jurassic Park or I would die

----------

Taglist: @the-doctor-9-10 @pinkieperil @sherlockfan4life @kybaeza @withering-thoughtts

#loki x oc #loki x reader #the scientist #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #fanfic #fanfiction #luna fields #multi chapter #chapter 51 #slow burn #science #music #oc luna fields

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 5)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1865

Chapter summary: Bucky comes home! But only briefly... :(

Warnings: None I think!

Chapter 4

Mr Hollywood Masterlist

Masterlist

*****

Pouring rain on Halloween night means the bowl of sweets by your front door is almost full as you answer the bell for the final few trick-or-treaters. Normally, Bucky helps you decorate the porch and front garden on the Saturday closest to the thirty first, so doing it alone this year was a bit of a challenge, but you're happy with the end result. 

The witches cat, out for it's third year, sits well by the mini pumpkins and broom, and the motion activated sound effects along the lantern lit path create the perfect atmosphere, just the right side of creepy.

The children certainly seem to approve.

Switching off the fairy lights and putting the leftover treats out of sight and temptation, you curl up on the sofa, scrolling through the pictures you took earlier of your decorations, choosing the best to send to Bucky. By your calculations it should be around midday in Los Angeles, lunch time hopefully, however it's always difficult to judge when he'll have a bit of a break. His replies to your texts have been slow and sporadic, but you understand, and he always apologises for taking so long. Today is a different story though, as the message is marked as read seconds after you send it, and you watch the little bubbles on the bottom of the screen as he types back his response. It's only a short text, saying that he shouldn't really be on his phone right now, but 'Happy Halloween!', and its accompanied by a photo of his own seasonal decorations, a plump pumpkin carved to look like a haunted house. He was always better than you at that kind of thing, you think, as you compare your own efforts with his, marvelling over the intricacy of the design. The picture appears to be taken in his trailer, and you zoom in to the corners, pleased to see it's cosy, homely. You had worried about how he would cope, being thrown in to such a foreign situation, as from the little information Bucky had been able to share, it seemed as though the other actors were old hands at living on set. It looks like Bucky's learned a thing or two from them.

Your reply to his picture goes unread, and you don't expect it to be answered any time soon. It feels like you never have proper back and forth conversations any more, that phone call cancelling his trip home feels like an age ago, and you miss his voice. The first half of the Autumn term wasn't as tough as you thought it would be, Bucky's replacement Peter is as easy to work with, so you have no complaints on that front, its just not quite the same without him.

Later, as you climb into bed, you allow yourself to briefly think about the future. Now that Halloween is done with, Christmas feels just around the corner, and Bucky's return can't come quickly enough.

*****

Luckily, Autumn quickly rolls to an end, and before you can blink, the annual school disco is upon you. The children look forward to it, and while it is a wonderful way to end the school term, with the combination of sugary drinks and snacks from the tuck shop, the only time they're permitted, the excitement for Christmas, and the speakers blasting classic festive songs, keeping it all under control can be exhausting for the adults.

Taking a breather, you wander through the empty corridors until you can no longer hear the commotion from the assembly room. The cloakrooms between the classroom areas are always a little cooler as they aren't heated, and after the stuffy hall its a welcome break.

Discreetly checking your phone you sigh at the lack of texts. You try not to keep it on you when you're working, not wanting it to be a distraction, but you are waiting on a message from Bucky, not so patiently. You want to know when he's going to be back around here so you can see him, but that's difficult to plan for when he doesn't reply. Leaning against the wall, you scold yourself for being annoyed at how uncommunicative he is, its unfair to expect to be made a priority, and it's not as if you're going to be super busy over the winter break. Whenever he's free you'll make sure you are too.

A door shuts nearby and you pocket your phone, pretending to be interested in the staff board in front of you, showing every teacher, assistant, cleaner and cook on it, your picture sitting at the top of the second column. Footsteps approach as you zone out, staring down the photo of yourself, only half aware that they've stopped beside you.

“Is that who took my place? Looks like one of those cartoon me-mes.”

Frowning, it takes your brain a few moments to work out what is happening.

“A what? Me-”

Turning to face the person who interrupted your bubble of quiet, you gasp, sure you're dreaming.

Bucky stands in front of you, and before he has a chance to say hi properly you're throwing yourself into his arms, only just holding in your squeal of joy as he wraps his arms around you. He smells just as he always did, that combination of three colognes you used to tease him about even though it is an amazing scent on him, and the memories it evokes has you snivelling against his chest.

He soothes you, rocking you with him as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve. “Sorry. I'm just tired I think.”

Nodding understandably against your hair, he hold you tight in his arms until your calmer.

Suddenly remembering his earlier words, you giggle as you pull away. “Me-mes? Really Bucky, you're still such a disaster.”

“And a very merry Christmas to you too.”

Smiling so wide your face hurts, you take him in. He's wearing a yellow visitor badge as opposed to your blue staff lanyard, and it makes him look so out of place even with the familiar surroundings. You note that despite spending nearly half a year in California, he's only slightly more tanned than when he left, but his hair looks different, glossier if possible, and softer. His casual style hasn't changed though, and you're happy to see that faithful puffer jacket he bought a couple of winters ago is still around. You can imagine he's grateful for it, coming back to the shock of single figure temperatures. All in all, he looks so much better than you remembered.

“And anyway,” You say, gesturing to Peter's picture that Bucky commented on, “He's actually really nice. So you should be too.”

“If you say so.”

Snorting, you check your watch. “If you have time, you could meet him?”

“I'd love to, but I've got to get to Dayton's. I didn't say I was coming here first, he'll worry I got stuck in the airport.”

“What do you mean? Haven't you been to his yet?”

“I wanted to see you first.”

“It's not really on the way is it?”

“No, but, worth it.”

Your tummy flips, flattered by his honesty. At a loss of what to say in response, you stare at the notice board behind his head, wondering if he's always had this effect on you and you've just forgotten over the months he's been gone, or if this is a new feeling. Even after an absence of six months he still has such a hold over you.

“What about tomorrow?” You ask after a short silence. “You remember the Christmas lunch? I'm sure we could squeeze you in if you wanted.”

You cross your fingers behind your back, desperate to have him here a little longer.

“Only if they have those potatoes I like.”

Thinking about how you'll make them for him yourself if you have to, you laugh at his condition for attendance, before escorting him back to the entrance foyer and his waiting taxi.

*****

“Are they not feeding you over there?” You chuckle, watching fondly as Bucky scoffs down a very full plate of dinner. Students and teachers a like have been absolutely delighted to see him again, and he's been given pride of place at the main table, with you squashed in beside him at his insistence. Peggy sits opposite, giving you a significant look every time your eyes meet.  She's not pleased that you aren't paying attention to her.

“Well, yeah, but only the really healthy stuff.” He takes a last forkful, scraping at the plate forlornly, before eyeing the food you are yet to eat. Sighing good naturedly, you push it towards him. “Go ahead.”

Thanking you with a grin, he tucks in, quiet until you question him on how long he'll be back.

“Only a couple of days.” He cringes at your confused expression.

“But I thought-”

“I know, I know. But as we've had so many delays because of the weather, everything is so behind, we're basically filming all hours of the day. Most people on set have never seen anything like it, and it's only going to get even more intense. They want to hit the summer season so we're doing all nighters to get it finished.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“And then press and promo, I don't know when I'll get to come home next.”

You don't know what to say. Bucky only arrived yesterday, and now that it looks like he'll be gone by the end of the week you're lost, disappointed and angry at someone or someone's you haven't met.

“Are you at least getting enough sleep?”

He shrugs. “Does anyone in this industry?”

Peter interrupts your conversation before you can continue your interrogation, flopping down between you and Bucky to introduce himself, seemingly in awe of everything about him and his life after Wild Fields Primary School. He knows what you've told him, so not much really, and whilst he tries to dig for more answers from Bucky you force yourself to smile and enjoy the little time you have with him.

*****

The end of lunch comes too soon and whilst you would love to stay with Bucky, teaching duties call. He's driven himself here so you walk with him back to the door out to the car park, refraining yourself from giving him a hug as it feels inappropriate in front of so many people, but he has no such qualms, and ignoring everyone around, you treasure being so close to him, conscious that it may be a long while until you see him again.

Stepping back eventually, you peer through the drizzle at the car Bucky's hired for the day, only half surprised to clock the luxury badge on the front. Not exactly the little run around he used to own.

“That looks very fancy, really going up in the world aren't you?”

“I'm still me.” He says, smiling bashfully as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before slipping out of the door.

“Just don't you forget about me Bucky Barnes.”

“Never, doll.”

You wave him off, not knowing then that Hollywood has a way of changing people, and that sometimes they can't keep their promises.

*****

Chapter 6

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #buckybabybaby #Mr Hollywood

[honeycombcal]

Clichés - C.H. (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Words: 3576

Warnings: Language, slight mention of anxiety

AN: Here it is, part 2! I hope you guys enjoy it, I wanted to add a little bit of angst but of course end with fluff fluff f l u f f. I hope the ending doesn’t seem rushed, it’s almost 3 in the morning when I’m posting this lmao. If you like this, I take requests if you have any! xx (gif does not belong to me, credits go to whoever made it)

Part 1 Part 3

“You gotta wear it,” Brittany urged, thrusting the article of clothing toward you once more.

You huffed, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and lightly pressing your teeth down. You looked it over again, the black bodysuit sparking nerves in your stomach. The front plunged lower than anything else you owned, the back nonexistent. You never went out so you didn’t have any ‘going out’ clothes other than this one piece, and you began to wonder what the hell you were thinking buying it in the first place.

“I don’t know, Britt,” you muttered, taking the bodysuit in your hands. It was a soft material, and you remember feeling comfortable and, surprisingly, confident in it when you had tried it on in the store. It hugged your body in all the right places, and the dark washed, ripped jeans you had bought to tuck it into made you feel like a runway model. Looking at the piece of cloth now, you felt your confidence level sinking to the floor.

“I don’t want him to get the wrong idea,” you continued, making Brittany scoff.

“What idea? That you’re hot and totally in love with him?” she teased, flopping down onto your bed. You groaned, rolling your eyes at your roommate.

“Not in love with him!” you retorted, throwing the bodysuit at her and rushing to your adjoining bathroom before she could whip it back at you.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing the girl- no, woman- looking back at you. Her hair was curled into perfect, glossy waves. Her eyes were smokey and not hidden by her normal big glasses. She glowed in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“It’ll be a miracle if he even recognizes me,” you called to her, fidgeting with your hair. You hear your roommate chuckle before she pads into your bathroom, looking at you in the mirror.

“You look amazing, but I think he’s into you for more than just your looks. Humor me and wear the bodysuit. You can always bring a sweater to throw over it if you start to feel uncomfortable,” she spoke softly, her eyes meeting yours. You pursed your lips before finally relenting, nodding and going back into your bedroom to get dressed.

Your phone buzzed on your bedside table, catching your attention as you pulled your jeans up, wiggling around to get them to sit on your hips just right. You pulled the zipper up as you walked to your phone where it charged, bringing the button through its slit as you bent your head to read the text that had popped up on the screen.

Calum Hood: just checking in to make sure you don’t ditch tonight to study how paint dries… see you soon x

You couldn’t help but snort at the first half of his text, and swoon at the ‘x’ he’d signed it with. You wanted to scold yourself for getting so worked up over a boy, but Calum Hood just wasn’t like any other boy.

“Don’t make me drag you up there because I will,” Brittany threatened, turning in the driver’s seat to give you a pointed look.

Dread was slowly starting to flood your stomach as you looked over Britt’s shoulder to the house. Some people were milling about outside in the yard, some were playing a game of beer pong on the porch, but it was clear that the inside of the house was packed. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, your mouth all of a sudden feeling very dry.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe, your panic stricken eyes meeting your roommate’s now soft ones. Brittany placed her hands on your bare shoulders.

“Hey, yes you can. You are smart, and beautiful, and more than capable of going into some dumb party,” she reassured you. You swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in your throat as your gaze shifted back towards the grey house.

“Why can’t you come with me,” you whined, which earned you a giggle from Brittany.

“I actually have studying I have to do so that chem test doesn’t kick my ass on Monday. I believe in you, and if you’re still freaked out after 20 minutes, call me and I’ll come right back. Okay?” she spoke softly, ducking her head to get you to meet her eyes. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded slowly.

“Deep breaths,” she encouraged, taking a deep breath herself so that you would do the same. You both took three deep breaths before you opened the door.

“Be safe, have fun! Love you!” Britt chirped, making you smile and blow her a kiss before shutting the car door. She waited for you to follow the path up to the house before driving off.

Your eyes darted to the people outside, even though you knew you wouldn’t know anyone. You were caught off guard when you heard a low whistle, your head whipping to the general direction that you heard it. You were used to being invisible, and you didn’t mind it. You fidgeted with your jacket, having opted for a red suede one rather than a boring cardigan. Your booties clicked on the pavement as you approached the house, the bass of the music growing increasingly louder. You lingered by the door, hesitating, before turning the doorknob.

The temperature inside the house was sweltering compared to the frigid air outside. You shut the door, eyes wide as you took everything in. To your right was the living room, packed with bodies and smelling of alcohol and- was that weed? The hallway in front of you lead to what you assumed would be the kitchen, and the stairs to your left must lead to where the bedrooms are. You were beginning to wonder why the hell you hadn’t texted Calum to let him know you were here. You wandered into the living room, glancing around the faces you didn’t recognize in hopes of seeing him.

Your heart began to race as anxious thoughts started to flood your mind. You chewed on your lip as you pushed through everyone, making your way into the dining room where it looked like people were playing some other kind of drinking game you didn’t know. You tried desperately to control your rapid breathing, turning to go back into the living room when you saw him.

He looked amazing. The simple black t-shirt he wore seemed to strain against his biceps, his tattoos a stark contrast to his golden skin. His black jeans were tight, showcasing his muscular legs. His dark hair looked softer than ever, the curls resting against his forehead. His long fingers were wrapped around a red solo cup, and he was laughing at something someone said. You looked to see it was Hemmings, from the soccer game. He caught your gaze almost immediately, making your face heat as he nudged Calum. Cal’s eyebrows raised before turning in your direction, doing a double take before his eyes widened just enough for you to notice. His plump lips parted slightly, his dark eyes scanning your body before you finally mustered enough courage to join them.

“Hey,” you breathed, feeling awkward and out of place. Calum gave you a smile, one that made your heart almost beat of your chest.

“Y/N, wow, I almost didn’t recognize you! You look amazing,” he praised, wrapping his arms around you. You returned his hug and rested your head in the crook of his neck, his scent making you feel at home.

“Yeah well, I’m already so far out of my comfort zone I thought I might as well switch it up a little bit,” you giggled, pulling away. Calum chuckled.

“Oh, Y/N, this is Luke Hemmings, my teammate and one of my roommates,” Calum introduced you to the blonde boy, seemingly remembering his friend was still standing there.

“Hemmings, yeah, that was a nice assist you had today,” you smiled, hoping to impress the guys on your terminology. It seemed to work, as Luke’s eyebrows shot up.

“Hey thanks, I’m actually kinda surprised you know what that is,” Luke chuckled.

“You should’ve heard her at the game, she was yelling about that douchebag holding my jersey!” Calum chimed in, making you blush.

“Well, I had to study something today,” you shrugged, making the guys laugh.

“I’ll have to test your knowledge some other time, then,” Calum teased, winking at you. You pursed your lips but nodded, going along with it. Your knowledge of soccer was still limited, but you were hoping you had enough time to learn more before Calum grilled you about it.

“Hey, Cal, you always said you can never hear anything the crowd yells. Remember that one time, that guy was heckling-” Luke started, Calum’s death glare promptly cutting him off. You felt your face heat at the fact that Calum had heard you during his game, but you decided to let him off easy.

“So, how many other guys live here?” you asked, remembering that Calum had said that Luke was one of his roommates.

“Two others, Michael and Ashton. They should be around here somewhere-”

“Cal!” a high pitched voice called, interrupting him. A beautiful girl bounced to his side, her eyes gleaming as she caught Calum’s attention, her hands wrapping around his bicep.

“Hey, Nicki-” Calum started to greet her, but she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

“Come with me,” she insisted, giving him a beautiful smile.

It felt like your heart had sank to your stomach. Did you actually think that Calum was interested in you romantically? He was way out of your league; you were just some girl he sat next to in class. He probably just felt bad for you and that’s why he invited you out tonight.

Calum glanced at Luke before looking at you, his eyes searching your face. You tried your best to smile at him, nodding that it was okay. He still seemed reluctant as Nicki practically dragged him away.

“That should be interesting,” Luke huffed, bringing his cup to his lips. Your gaze shifted from where Calum had just been to Luke.

“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren’t coming off as nosy.

“Nicki’s his ex,” Luke sighed, his face scrunching up to show his distaste of the beautiful girl.

“Oh,” was all you could manage, your heart all the way in the basement now.

“She’s psycho. They broke up around the beginning of the semester but she won’t leave him alone,” he gossiped, your eyebrows raising at the information.

“Why’d they break up?” You didn’t care if you were coming off nosy now,

“She cheated on him with some football player. He can’t stand her but for some reason she just keeps showing up. Probably doesn’t help that he still hooks up with her every now and then,” Luke muttered, downing the rest of his drink. You felt your mouth pop open at that last sentence, feeling your heart shatter into pieces.

“I’m gonna go get a refill, you want anything?” he asked you, oblivious to the heartbreak he had just inflicted on you. You merely shook your head, not able to speak before Luke went off to the kitchen.

You stood there, in that crowded room, feeling utterly alone. The boy you had come here to see, the one that you had fallen so hard for over these past few months, had been pulled upstairs by his ex right in front of you. You were mortified. Unshed tears began to burn your eyes, your throat dry. It felt as though the walls were closing in on you; people kept brushing against you, some softly and some with more force, sending your senses into overdrive. You had to get out of here.

You pushed your way through the crowd, making your way to the door. You slammed it shut behind you, the cool air welcoming on your burning skin. You ignored the stares the party goers outside gave you, rushing down the path toward the street and beginning to walk. You should probably call Brittany, but you didn’t want to have to tell her what happened. You recognized where you were on campus, and you knew there were a slew of bars and shops just up the street.

You hugged your arms around yourself, the wind unforgiving. Your mind raced, a million thoughts jumbled around in your brain. Why had he invited you out tonight? Why had he given you his jersey to wear? Was he just being friendly and you took it the wrong way? You felt like an idiot. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve, and it had always bitten you in the ass; this time was clearly no different.

You had made it into town, your eyes scanning the storefronts. One caught your eye, a neon sign in cursive blinking “The Lib”. You decided to check it out, opening the door. A bell tinkled somewhere, an alert that someone was here. You’d never heard of this place before, your eyes scanning the small bar. A red, almost pink, glow was cast inside and the wall to your right was lined with books. Further down the wall was where a quaint bar was nestled, a small woman standing behind it cleaning some glasses. The left wall had all kinds of posters and pieces of art decorating it, a stage adorning the back corner. They must have live music in here some nights, but tonight was dead. You were the only person there, so you approached the bar slowly.

“Hiya hun, what can I get ya?” the woman asked you, her smile warm and inviting. Her wavy dirty blonde hair was cut into a stylish bob, framing her face perfectly. She had delicate features, and she reminded you of a pixie. You liked her immediately.

“Can I get a vodka sprite?” you asked, showing her your ID. She waved you away and nodded, beginning to make your drink.

“What brings you in all by your lonesome on a Saturday night?” she inquired, seemingly genuine. You sighed, taking a seat at the bar.

“Clichés,” you muttered, making her eyebrows raise as she handed you your drink.

“What do you mean?” she cocked her head, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“This guy is way out of my league and I should’ve known better,” you gave her the short version, taking a sip of your drink and wincing.

“Out of your league? I’m sorry, but have ya looked in the mirror lately?! You are stunning,” she complimented, making you smile.

“I don’t always look like this,” you laughed. If only she could see you during the week. She scoffed, going to wipe the bar down on the opposite end.

“I didn't catch your name?” you asked her, and she gave you a friendly smile.

“Mickie. I own the bar,” she told you. You nodded in appreciation.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. I really love how you incorporated the book wall,” you tell her earnestly. This could easily become one of your new favorite spots.

“Well I’m glad someone does! I just love everything nerdy I guess, so having a book wall and a bunch of art and live music just felt right to me,” she shrugged, coming back down to stand in front of you.

“I’m a nerd right there with ya,” you giggled, making her smile.

The bell chimed overhead, signaling that someone else was here. You looked to the door and felt your heart in your throat as Calum walked towards you.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he breathed. You glanced at Mickie as she looked at Calum and back at you.

“I’ll be in the back if you need anything,” she told you, giving you some privacy. You nodded, going to take another sip of your drink before you remembered she hadn’t charged you.

“Wait! How much-?”

“On the house!” she called over her shoulder.

Calum settled in on the stool next to you, his body facing you as you faced the bar.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you murmured, fiddling with your straw.

“I played a gig with my band here last week. Reminded me of you,” he responded softly, making your insides liquify. He’s in a band? Is there anything he can’t do?

“Why’d you run off?” he asked, and you could feel his gaze searching your face. You rolled your lips into your mouth, head dropping to stare at your lap.

“You seemed otherwise… preoccupied. And I didn’t know anyone else,” you shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. You stole a glance at Calum, his face full of concern.

“I definitely wouldn’t say I was preoccupied… more like ambushed,” he chuckled, but stopped once you didn’t join in.

“It’s okay, Luke told me,” you reassured, leaning forward to take a long sip of your drink. You could feel your body warming thanks to the drink, your tolerance practically nonexistent.

“Luke told you what?” Calum prompted, searching your face.

“About Nicki. And you. You and Nicki. It’s okay, I don’t want to interfere-” you began, but Calum quickly shut you down.

“Woah woah woah, okay, slow down. Clearly he had more to drink than I thought,” Calum huffed, you finally deciding to meet his gaze.

“There is no ‘me and Nicki’. She cheated on me before school started, I broke up with her, we hooked up once a few days after, and that was that. She always shows up to parties that I’m at and it drives me up the fucking wall,” he explained, unknowingly piecing your heart back together.

“I’m pretty sure she tells people that we still mess around to keep other girls from talking to me. But you’re not just any girl,” he continued, taking your hand. Your heart, now fully repaired, threatened to beat right out of your chest.

“I love that you are so lowkey. You keep to yourself, and it’s adorable, but there’s so much… innocence to it, for lack of a better word. You’re untouched by all the shitty drama that goes on in my life, and you’re just… like a breath of fresh air,” he breathed the last part. You felt your lips tug into a smile at his words.

“I’ve loved getting to know you these past few months. I’ve loved spending time with you, learning what you like and dislike, and pretending that I need your notes,” he winks before continuing. “I love that you went so far out of your comfort zone tonight, and I loved seeing you in my jersey at the game. You look beautiful tonight, but I love seeing you in your glasses too.”

“Where are you going with this, Hood?” you breathed, unsure if this was real life or if you had picked up a romance book off of the shelves of The Lib and were reading that instead. Calum chuckled, squeezing your hand.

“Nicki is no one you should worry about. She saw me talking to you and tried to scare you off, which I guess worked, but I wasn’t gonna let her win. I really like you, Y/N,” he admitted, his free hand coming up to brush your cheek. You felt your breath catch in your throat, time seemingly standing still.

“You do?” you squeaked, his face breaking out in a grin that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

“I don’t know how to make it any more obvious,” he teased, making you giggle.

“I’m book smart, but I never said anything about street smart,” you fired back, making him chuckle.

“I’ll have to tutor you sometime,” he shrugged.

“If you could find time in your busy schedule, I would be so honored,” you pretended to swoon, his eyes narrowing but a smirk played on his plump lips.

“You wanna chill here the rest of the night?” he asked, his thumb rubbing circles absentmindedly on your hand. You gave him a soft smile and nodded, loving the atmosphere of the empty bar more than any packed party.

“On one condition,” he stated.

“Yeah?”

“You have to come to the rest of my soccer games this season,” he gave you a shy smile. 

“I wouldn’t dream of missing them.”

Something shifted in the expression on Calum’s face, and before you knew it, he was leaning in closer to you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his soft lips to yours, his hands coming up to hold your face. It was a soft kiss, nothing rushed or sensual about it, but it was perfect.

He pulled away, and if everything in the bar wasn’t already washed in a red glow, you would’ve sworn that his cheeks were tinted pink. You gave him a reassuring smile, leaning back to kiss his cheek as Mickie appeared from the back.

“Hey, Cal,” she greeted him, your eyes widening.

“What? He’s amazing at the piano, and a killer bassist,” she shrugs, making you giggle and Calum laugh. You made a mental note to ask when his next gig was so you could go to all of those as well.

You were typically a homebody, but with Calum, you could feel that all beginning to change. And you had no complaints, thankful for the cliché that seemed to work out in your favor just like in the books that lined the walls.

taglist: @rexorangecouny @flowerchild8341 @therainydays4

#calum hood #calum #calum 5sos #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood imagines #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #ashton irwin #ashton 5sos #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #michael clifford #michael 5sos #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #masterlist #hcc masterlist #soccer!cal #soccer!calum #college!calum

[missnmikaelson-main]

Consequences Part 11

Summary: What do you do when your old frenemy threatens to cut off your army at the source? Obviously you abscond with the doppelganger in the dead of night, but every action has consequences. Pairing: Klaus x Elena Word Count: 2437

“Vampires require an invitation to enter the cemetery,” Sabine stood a few inches in front of him; just inside the barrier. She looked him up and down with a malicious gleam in her eye.

Klaus glared at the three women; pure rage glittered in his eyes. They had bound and gagged Elena: his Elena.

“Untie her now,” rage dripped from his tongue. In his mind he was counting the number of pieces he would tear this woman into when he got his hands on her.

“That won’t be happening,” Sabine backed up to where Elena was struggling with her bonds.

Elena recoiled under the hand Sabine laid on her shoulder. Sweat beaded her forehead; an ache settled at the base of her spine. Her blood ran cold when she met the woman’s eyes.

Sabine smiled sweetly before tightening the ropes around Elena’s wrists.

Elena cried out in pain when her arms were wrenched sideways. Her teeth dug into the cloth between her lips.

“I will kill you,” Klaus roared, “and it will be excruciatingly slow; you will beg for the sweet release of death before I’m done.”

“Spare me the dramatics,” Sabine sighed.

“We have no intention of harming her or the baby,” Sarah smiled at him. “We just need something from you.”

“And judging by that vein popping out in your neck,” Sabine smirked, “you’ll do it.”

“What do you want?” Klaus glared at Sabine when she approached him again.

“It’s quite simple,” the oldest of the witches explained, “Marcel has one of our witches and we want her back.”

“Where, pray tell, do I find this witch?” He glared when the red head got too close to Elena.

“Now that we don’t know,” Sabine shook her head. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself and bring her back here. We’ll give you until sundown.”

“And if I cannot find her in those three hours?” Klaus frowned at the shackles placed in his hand.

“Agnes?” Sabine turned to the oldest woman.

Agnes reached into the bag she had placed beside Elena and pulled out an antique syringe filled with a green liquid.

“This is the Needle of Sorrows,” Agnes held it up for his inspection, “it is a dark object with only one purpose: to kill an unborn child by raising the mother’s blood temperature. Once it begins it cannot be stopped.” She looked down at Elena’s swollen stomach. “The progression of her pregnancy means it will likely kill her as well.”

Elena’s heart thundered in her chest; she could hear it pounding in her ears.

“You’ll need those shackles,” Sabine smiled, “Davina won’t be likely to come quietly.”

++++

“Elijah,” Rebekah slammed the car door shut and strode over the gravel, “if not answering your phone is your way of trying to get me back to this bloody city, and what is likely to be an even bloodier family reunion, congratulations it worked.” Her heels clicked on the porch steps. “Now answer the phone before I break down your bloody door.”

When there was no reply she used a little more force than was optimal for the aged wood of the door and stomped into the house.

“Elijah!” She called up the stairs. “Kol!”

“They can’t answer.”

Rebekah’s mouth popped open. Her eyes grew round as she spun on her heel to find her oldest brother standing in the entry to the living room.

“Finn?” She blinked a few times to make sure he was really there and resisted the urge to pinch herself. “How?”

“Elena removed my dagger,” he stepped across the foyer, “she found me in the attic and pulled out the blade.”

“How did Nik take that?” Rebekah tilted her head. She had never liked the doppelganger, but the knowledge of her pregnancy and Klaus’ tendency to lose his temper had her worried for the young woman’s safety.

“In stride,” Finn frowned. “It seems he and Elena had a deal. He would not stop her from waking us provided she could find us.”

“Elena doesn’t even know you,” a line appeared between her brows, “and she woke you?” The knowledge that her brothers had once again fallen victim to Klaus was unsurprisingly unsurprising.

“She had no idea who I was,” Finn nodded, “but she said she couldn’t leave me like that.”

“Probably telling you what you wanted to hear,” Rebekah scoffed.

“She was unaware that I could hear her, sister,” Finn shook his head, “my consciousness slowly came back under the effects of that blade. I could hear every word she said to me.”

“Do you know where they are?” Rebekah tossed her hair over her shoulder and peered down the hall.

“Niklaus and Elena should be back at any time,” Finn checked his watch.

“Not them,” Rebekah shook her head, “Elijah and Kol. He’s got them daggered somewhere in this house.”

“I’m not sure,” he inclined his head. “Elena seems to believe one of them is in the library, but she can’t figure out how to open the door.”

“I can do that,” Rebekah pushed open the door to the library and strode towards the bookshelf.

“How can you possibly walk in those shoes?” Finn nodded to her three inch stilettos.

“Practice,” Rebekah crouched on the floor and pulled out a book from the bottom shelf; it extended a few inches before stopping. She repeated the action on the third shelf and the top one. “Elena could have spent years trying to figure this out.”

Finn watched her pull the spine of a thick volume on the middle shelf and heard a series of clicks emitting from the wall. The shelf swung towards his little sister when the phone Klaus had given him began ringing in his pocket; he pulled it out and saw his brother’s name flashing on the screen. He was about to answer when Rebekah re-emerged from behind the wall with a coffin which she sat on the ground.

++++

“Finn,” Klaus tempered his growl while striding down Dauphine Street, “I understand that twenty-first century technology is still a bit of a mystery to you, but when you see my name on your phone you answer.”

He hung up the phone and sent a text message.

Elena is in danger. I need your help.

He tucked the phone into his pocket and heard the gentle rattling of the shackles. With a single deep breath he took off at vampire speed and only stopped when he was in the courtyard of his old home.

“Marcellus,” he gritted his teeth when he saw his prodigy appear on the balcony, “I need a word,” his eyes cut to the plethora of vampires milling about, “in private.”

Marcel cocked his head but nodded. He was just about to motion inside the house when Klaus held up his hand.

“Not here,” he shook his head, “come walk with me. Don’t worry,” his smirk was tight and dark, “I’ll have you home in time for tea.”

++++

Rebekah pulled the dagger free with a sharp sucking sound and stood with the intention of fetching a bag of blood. She stopped when she saw the missed message from Klaus.

“Are you going to answer that?” She nodded to the blinking phone.

Finn tore his eyes from the grey visage of his younger brother. He wondered if that was what he had looked like lying in his own coffin: grey and drawn.

He inhaled and read the message only to have the blood drain from his face.

“Finn,” Rebekah tucked the dagger into her pocket, “what is it?”

“Elena’s in trouble.”

“Must be Monday,” Rebekah sighed. She held out her hand when she saw him struggling with the keyboard and asked where she was. The response was almost immediate. “Do you know where anything in the city is yet?” She looked up at him and inhaled when he shook his head.

++++

“Tell me about Davina,” Klaus’ knuckles grazed the rough bricks of the alley.

“I knew it,” Marcel chuckled darkly, “you do have a hidden agenda, and as usual it’s all about power.”

Klaus resisted his urge to rip off several of the younger vampire’s limbs and returned Finn’s text.

“I find myself rather pressed for time,” he lifted his eyes to the red stone, “so I’ll ask again. Who is Davina and where can I find her?”

“Davina is my business,” Marcel’s smile fell, “she is how I keep the witches under control, and I will not be telling you where she is.”

“Very well,” Klaus cocked his head to one side as inspiration struck, “I’ve asked nicely.” He flashed in front of Marcel and sank his canines into the younger man’s carotid artery.

“What the hell, Klaus?” Marcel held the side of his neck. He stumbled a second later when he felt a fever roar through his blood.

“That pregnant girl,” Klaus whispered harshly, “is the Petrova doppelganger. Her blood broke my curse a while back. I can see it in your eyes,” he smirked, “you know exactly what my bite will do to you, and it will be fast, you’ll be dead by tomorrow night at the latest.”

“How is this meant to help your case?” Marcel grunted.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Klaus backed up, “my bite will kill you, Marcellus, but my blood will cure you. So you have to ask yourself: is your life worth your power?”

++++

Elena rolled her neck slowly and attempted to stretch her aching muscles. There were very few positions that were ideal for the long term, and sitting sideways while being tied to a bench was not one of them.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw movement from the corner of her eyes.

++++

Kaleb groaned and managed to turn his head slightly to the left. The image of Sabine’s hostage slowly came into focus.

He tried to move but his limbs were not cooperating with his mind. He realized what Sarah must have used when a pins and needles sensation began in his fingers and toes.

He managed to force his eyes open just in time to see a familiar powder being blown into the faces of the women by the bench.

++++

“This is it,” Rebekah brought the car to a stop outside the cemetery. She was out and in step with Finn a second later.

++++

“Let me go,” Davina attempted to pull her arm free from his iron grip. She thought it just might be stronger than the shackles around her wrists.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, love,” Klaus shook his head. He had not been expecting a teenager; she was little more than a girl. If the witches had threatened the life of anyone else besides Elena and his unborn child he might have let them do it; he had a strange feeling the witches intentions for young Davina were less than pure.

“Please,” Davina dug her heels into the ground, “just let me go. They’ll kill me. In exchange for telling Marcel when the witches were practicing he kept me safe from them.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Klaus rolled his eyes, “you’re one of their coven; they’re not going to kill you.”

“Yes,” a young man leaned against the gate heavily, “they were. They were going to kill her to complete a ritual.”

“Who the bloody hell are you?” Klaus froze outside the cemetery. His eyes narrowed and darted from Finn and Rebekah to the unconscious witches stretched out on the ground.

“Kaleb Westphall,” he grimaced as the last of the feeling returned to his legs and straightened up.

“You weren’t here earlier,” Klaus looked him up and down; he couldn’t have been much older than Elena.

“I was actually,” Kaleb nodded behind a mausoleum. “Sarah, that’s the redhead, knocked me out when I tried to let the girl go.”

“And where is the girl now?” Rebekah crossed her arms.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “I was just starting to come around when Sabine blew the powder in their faces.”

Klaus peered into cemetery and found the bench completely empty.

“I’m assuming this Sabine took Elena,” Finn’s eyes fell to the shackles around the young girl’s wrists.

“She also took the needle,” Klaus swore under his breath. His hand collided with the Iron Gate which crashed into the stone wall.

“What needle?” A line appeared between Rebekah’s brows.

“The Needle of Sorrows,” Klaus snapped.

The blood drained from Kaleb’s face. He cursed under his breath and ran a hand back through his hair. He gave the confused vampires a quick history lesson on the dark object before turning to Klaus.

“Assuming Davina over here isn’t going to rat me out,” Kaleb waved to the girl, “I’ll help you find her.”

Klaus had already turned to lift the shackles from Davina’s wrists. He frowned when they wouldn’t come undone.

“They need to be removed by magic, or with the key,” Kaleb stepped through onto the street.

“You’re just going to let me go?” Davina tilted her head when Klaus lifted her hands to Kaleb.

“The deal I made with these witches was Elena, unharmed, in exchange for you,” Klaus nodded to the still bodies. “They reneged on that deal, and I have no desire to see a child harmed.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” Davina rubbed her wrists. Marcel had given away her location; she didn’t want to go back there.

“Well, for now,” Kaleb turned her away from the cemetery when he heard Sarah and Agnes stirring, “away from here. Relax Davina,” he sighed when Klaus steered them towards his car, “the only one who can complete the ritual is Agnes and she’s not going to find you.”

“What do you need to find Elena?” Klaus turned over the engine when Finn and Rebekah climbed in the SUV.

“A map of New Orleans and your blood,” Kaleb blinked when a map was placed in his hands.

“How much blood?” Klaus parked the car several blocks away from the cemetery. He bit into his wrist and held it over the corner of the open map in Kaleb’s lap.

“How is his blood supposed to help?” Davina leaned forward to watch when Kaleb chanted; she shivered when she felt the magic pulsating around his body.

“It will help because she is carrying his child,” Kaleb murmured while the blood made a trail, “and if we don’t find them soon Sabine might do something bad to her and the baby. I’m assuming that’s how they got him to agree to bring you to the cemetery in the first place.”

Klaus tossed the car in drive the moment the blood settled.

Tag List: @rissyrapp20

#klaulena #klaus mikaelson #elena gilbert

[starscreamloki]

Disobedient Thrall

Chapter: four

Previous chapter

Read on AO3

Summary: Loki is on earth and has a human Thrall that is able to arrange things for him. But Loki seems to have fallen in a very predatory, even feral, way of treating and is downright dangerous, able to commit murder at any moment. She is trying to make him see that he is more than the darkness he thinks he is, but instead she keeps pushing all the wrong buttons.

Words: 2254

Warnings: Dom!Loki, predatory!Loki, violence, lot of Loki feels, dub-con.

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the previous one, but I wanted it to end with somewhat of a cliffhanger.

Thanks again to @laralaufey for this fanfic, who just keeps cheering me on to write this. But also a very big thanks to @enjoy-my-reign for being the other player in this story.

For all of you who want to follow this adventure ‘live’, or ask THIS Loki questions, check out Loki’s blog: Loki the Predator.

---

She walked into the dark of the night and puffed. It was cold and she couldn’t see anything, for the moon was hidden behind thick clouds and not a light graced the outskirts of the countryside.

“Excellent,” she muttered to herself and woefully thought about the warm fireplace that burned inside the residence. “But with the cabbage that I go back inside…” she muttered a little grim.

She reached inside her pocket to grab her phone. Good thing Loki had given that back, at least she could open the light app to illuminate her way. As she looked at the phone a message appeared on it’s screen. ‘Insufficient battery’ it read.

“For real? Are you serious damn mobile!” she scorned the device. “After all I did to get you back and you betray me like this!” Of course this would be her reward. She had antagonized the Trickster God, even though she had meant so well, and now the universe was making her pay for it. Or maybe it was his doing.

“Well, at least you’re not a shapeshifter, are you not?” she spoke to the phone. Then she suddenly realised how stupid it was to talk to her phone when there was nobody on the other side of the line and she started to feel a little bit crazy. With a huff of dismay she shoved the device back in her pocket and looked around.

There was no other place to go and reluctantly she returned toward the house and sat down on the steps. Her mind was torn in conflict. If she would go back inside she might get torn asunder by the God and… Creature that currently resided there. If she stayed outside she might die from freezing.

Weighing her options she decided to stay outside a little while longer. She leaned against the railing and pulled up her knees in a futile attempt to stay warm. Her stomach rumbled and she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a pack of crackers. “If I’m going to die, then at least be it with a full stomach,” she muttered and bit into the dry cracker.

***

Loki looked at the fireplace where he expected to see a cat, but instead a majestic white wolf was in its place. Loki shrugged at this new form of the creature and briefly considered turning into a snake.

“Little Kitten? I think it is a bit obvious that I am not a cat. I do have a name, several actually,” the Wolf spoke with a low growl.

“Kitten, puppy, prey… you never indulged me with your name while you are perfectly aware of who I am,” Loki scoffed at the creature and put up a feigned smile. He had to admit, he was curious about who or what this creature was.

“Call me Vetalįa,” the wolf spoke and shook its head. “Hmm, I liked her,” a little bit of disappointment shimmering through in its voice. “And you do too, dear Trickster. I would know, I’ve seen many Gods have such feelings for Mortals.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, looking at the wolf with a mix of interest and horror. “Me? Liking a Mortal? Preposterous!” he snorted. “She is merely a tool to greater schemes…” Loki’s words trailed of as he bit his lip, caught aback by his own lie.

“Do not worry, this is not how it ends,” the wolf spoke soothingly. Yet there was an underlying threat and playfulness in those words.

Loki looked up at that. “How are you sure this is not how it will end?” he asked a little bit wary. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted the mortal to come back or not and thus it was easier to pretend he didn’t care. Yet the words the wolf had spoken ignited a little bit of hope in his chest that she would come back, but his mind still told him not to grow overly fond of this Mortal.

“What is wrong with a little bit of madness?” the wolf spoke, pulling Loki out of his reverie.

“Madness if fine,” Loki spoke softly. “But me liking a mortal is madness! They are nothing more than prey,” and he scoffed.

The wolf let out sigh which sounded a little bit weird considering its animalistic form. “This is not the end because I have drained all the life from her device. And that little storm I created earlier should be getting bigger by know.” The wolf got up from its spot near the fireplace and approached the couch where Loki was residing. Vigilantly Loki eyed the Wolf.

“She has not wandered far. Now all you have to do is let her in. See, I’ve made it easy for you.” The wolf grinned which gave it an eerie and predatory look.

“Yes, I know,” Loki said while considering to pet the creature but forfeiting the idea. “She is still outside sulking on the front porch.” Loki flicked his wrist and called his magic forth. The front door opened and a whiff of green magic lingered in the air, beckoning the woman who sat shivering on the front porch.

***

Snow had started to trickle from the sky for some time now and she felt frozen to the bone. She whispered to herself, “Stay awake, stay awake…” It was a mantra she had been uttering for quite some time, she didn’t knew how long, and the words had almost lost their meaning.

Suddenly the door swung open and her heart fluttered. She was prepared for anything and nothing at all to happen at that moment, but she hadn’t expected the green light beckoning her.

“Loki?” she asked uncertain and the green magical orb seemed to softly vibrate at her inquiry. She took it as a sign and got up, her limbs stiff and numb from the cold. Carefully she walked inside and at the door of the living room the green light evaporated.

“A- a wolf?” she stuttered while eyeing the God and the animal suspicious.

The warmth of the house graced her skin and she shivered. “Is- Is it oké if…” her words trailed under the scrutinizing glare of the God. “It’s snowing ice now… I thought it was better to stay near the house,” she stammered and looked at the floor.

“Can I… Could I stay inside for a little while, please?” she eyed both deities without getting much of an answer or a hint in any form from neither of them. “If… if it isn’t a problem,” she eyed them sparingly and sat down on the floor, only realising now how frozen she actually was for the floor of the living room was warmer then her frozen limbs. “I can stay here in the corner and leave in the morning.”

She felt the two deities observe her and a little shudder went down her spine. She felt like prey indeed near these two. “I- I’ll not move,” she said with a small voice and curled up into a ball. She was out of options, out of defenses and neither of them acknowledged her, making her feel small and meaningless. She was still shivering from the cold and if Loki or the Wolf would fall asleep, she would try to crawl next to the fire.

Subjecting to both deities who were scrutinizing her with an almost murderous look in their eyes, she looked away.

Suddenly the Wolf got up and stalked towards her. Her entire being shivering and she wasn’t sure whether it was from fear or the cold, but even if she wanted, she wasn’t able to run away, her body paralyzed by the cold. “P-please, Wolf, don’t kill me.” Her voice was still small and riddled with fear.

The Wolf poked its snout against her frozen hand and she felt a jolt of warmth flow through her arm. She breathed a sigh of relief at the wolf’s careful touch and the warmth shortly spreading through her bones.

“By the ancients, you are cold,” the wolf spoke in a guttural voice.

“Ye-yes, it’s cold outside,” she stammered.

The wolf lay down next to her, its head close to hers and spoke. “You arranged for this home, did you not? Then why should you need permission? I suggest you come to the fire unless you wish to catch your death.”

She wanted to speak but found it difficult to find her voice. The change of temperature had started to work on her skin and she felt the needles and pins from her toes to the crown of her head crawling over it. It hurted a lot but she was glad that the blood in her veins had started to flow again and her demeanor got a little bit more positive.

She had to admit the Wolf was right. After all, she was the one who had arranged this house but she still feared it a little. “It is because you are a dangerous creature her on earth,” she spoke while trying to control her shivering. “So, humans fear a wolf,” she addressed the animal.

Carefully she looked at Loki, not sure what she would read from his face or see in his eyes, but his expression was calm, even blank, for he had not mingled in their conversation just yet. He caught her looking at him and muttered something under his breath.

Yet the calm demeanor that radiated from Loki made her feel a little saver and suddenly she was hit by a wave of calmness and figured she was able to trust the Wolf too. “You are right,” she said to the Wolf referring to its assessment of her arranging for this house. “I don’t feel very well at the moment.” Slowly she got up and staggered to the armchair near the fireplace from which she grabbed two pillows and put them on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Lying down she nestled herself in them and eyed the God again.

Loki still looked calm and his serene presence soothed her nerves, the warmth slowly returning to her heart. She whispered to the Wolf who was now lingering near her curled up body. “Thank you for the help.” She wanted to pet the beautiful creature but since she wasn’t sure how it would react, she refrained from doing so. She felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her as she looked at the Wolf. “Are you a guardian?” she asked while her voice lulled. She wanted to hear it’s answer, but her eyes grew heavy and soon the world turned black.

***

Loki hadn’t spoken the entire time, just observing the Mortal and the Wolf. He looked at her curled form on the floor in front of the fire and huffed. “Mortals…” he said abhorred but ever so slightly the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a brief smile.

“Why are you assisting me suddenly instead of her, Vetalja?” Loki asked curious.

The wolf chuckled. “Who says I was ever assisting either of you?” It paced around the room. “Even if I was, these humans believe my kind’s assistance a danger.” The wolf stopped pacing and set next to the couch where Loki was lying, still reading his book although not many of its content had reached his brain in the past hour or so.

“Yes, your kind,” Loki said berating while he snapped his book shut and placed it on the table. “Whatever it may be…” he trailed.

Loki couldn’t deny he wasn’t intrigued by this creature that could shapeshift in all different kind of animals. On the other hand he was also a little bit off his game after the Wolf had said that he just might like the mortal. He was utterly torn between his feelings, for he truly did not want to like a mortal, but on the other hand he could no longer deny his heart tugging in his chest now that his mind had finally stopped taking control over his feelings. It had hurt him on some level when he had seen her walking in, shivering, frozen to the bone, but most of all, afraid and alone. The latter feeling something he was awfully familiar with.

Maybe it wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t able to love, although he still doubted that possibility, it was the fact that she was a mortal. Hadn’t he once told his brother that he shouldn’t? And now it seemed as if he was almost falling for the same tricks, fully knowing it would leave his heart shattered. He needed time to think. He needed time alone, and he wouldn’t get it here.

Briskly he swung his legs of the couch, got up and walked out of the house, closing the door softly and walking out into the cold blizzard storm in the night.

The wolf watched Loki leave and then looked to the sleeping mortal. “Guardian? Not even close,” and Vetalja was wrapped in magic, turning to one of her truest forms. A maiden decorated with golden tattoos which seemed to dance across her skin, stood in the Wolf's place. “A God and a mortal…” she grinned. “I can’t wait to see how this goes,” she muttered while walking through the room. Suddenly the book on the table that Loki had been reading caught her eye, and with a flick of her wrist she magicked it to her hand. “Just a little trophy,” she whispered and grinned.

Smoke started to rise around her and then she disappeared.

“Until we meet again…”

Next Chapter

----

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[afternoonteawithme]

Levi lay flat on his back in the middle of the living room floor, eyes shut, arms spread out as far from his body as he could manage in an attempt to keep as little skin from touching skin as possible. He wore an old pair of pajama bottoms he’d cut the legs off of, and an ancient, thin tee that he’d washed so often the cotton was barely more than threads.

Even lying motionless on the sheet he’d spread over the carpet, he felt droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead and blending with the dampness at his hairline, left over from his last shower. The ceiling fan above his body didn’t do much more than move the hot, heavy air around, but the moving air felt mildly cooler against his sweat sticky skin, so it was better than nothing.

He’d overheard one of his neighbors say that this year’s summer had hit like a cement truck, which had struck Levi as a pretty accurate description, seeing as he spent most of his day feeling as if the air around him had been poured into place.

Angling his head back, he glanced at the clock over the kitchen doorway, and sighed. It took so much effort to move that he mostly didn’t bother, once the sun was up, and he’d decided to try sleeping through the high heat at the middle of the day, so he could get his chores done at night.  

Which would have worked out really well, if he could actually make himself sleep when he was so unbearably hot and sticky.

There was an air conditioning thing, attached to the house. He’d found the controller on the wall in the laundry closet, and the manual neatly tucked into one of the kitchen drawers. But air conditioning used a lot of electricity, which cost a lot of money, and he refused to become any more of an expense to his uncle.

Besides, his mom had never had to run the air conditioning, when it wasn’t included in the rent. Levi remembered some days when it had been so hot it had felt as if the city around them might melt and she’d brought him to hang out at the library, or public museums, while she went to work. Or if she’d had the day off, and felt well enough, she’d take him into department stores where they’d go from floor to floor admiring and giggling over all the things they’d never in a million years have been able to buy.

Once, she’d taken him to a public pool, but Levi had taken barely a step in before  he’d spotted another  boy standing on the edge, seeing how far he could pee into the water.

They’d never gone back.

But Levi’s mom had taught him that there was always a way to live with the heat, or the cold in the winter. Food, and not being without a roof when they needed one, was always more important.

Of course, he had a roof all to himself now, and no shortage of money for food. His uncle sent  envelopes full of cash every week – though Levi hadn’t even made it through the first wad he’d been handed before his uncle left – but Levi still wasn’t going to waste his uncle’s money on the air conditioning. Even if it was stupidly hot, and humid, and he couldn’t risk going to the library or any museums or department stores on his own, in case someone started wondering where his parentals were.

Levi closed his eyes again, willing the sun to move more quickly across the sky.

All the windows were open – for the first week, after the cement truck of summer had hit, he’d tried to keep them shut, or just slitted enough to keep the air from getting musty, but after the day he’d gotten so hot that he’d realized he was either going to throw up, pass out, or both, he’d thrown them all wide open.

So the windows were wide open, the blinds loosened at the bottom so they made clacking sounds against the sill when there was any wind to blow them. Of which there was none today.  

The fan over his head whooshed steadily, and he could hear the steady snip-snip sounds as his neighbor, the ancient Mrs. Jenks, worked in her garden, as she did every afternoon, rain or shine or scorching sun. In the distance, somewhere, Levi heard a dog barking. A few more dogs in the neighborhood barked lazily in sympathy, but even they didn’t seem too interested in wasting the energy.  

There wasn’t much traffic here, almost any car he heard on the road outside belonged to one of his neighbors. This neighborhood was pretty quiet, a dead end street branching off a curvy, residential road that didn’t go anywhere but to more dead end roads. His row of houses backed onto a small patch of forest, not more than a half mile across before it disappeared into fields and farmland.

It was worlds away from the life he’d lived with his mother. That had been noisy, cramped, crowded. Never lonely. This place was so quiet he’d had trouble sleeping, the first few weeks.  

The snipping sounds stopped, and a second later he heard Mrs. Jenks’ wavery voice, as she called out to her husband.

“Could you bring me out my sunhat, dear?”

“What!”

“My sunhat, dear, could you get it for me? It’s on the kitchen table.” Mrs. Jenks’ voice was patient, as endlessly unruffled as it always was when she spoke to the slightly more ancient, very hard of hearing Mr. Jenks.

“What!”

“My hat, dear. My hat.”

“We haven’t got a cat! Ain’t had one in years!”

“No, dear. My hat. On the kitchen table.”

“What!”

“My hat. For my head.”

“Oh. Your hat!”

“Yes, dear.”

“Where is it?”

“Hi, Mrs Jenks!”

Levi’s eyes popped open, his breath sucking in at the much younger, vibrantly enthusiastic voice. The kid talked so loudly he barely had to raise his voice at all when he greeted Mr. Jenks, too.

Slowly, Levi sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Eren dear, could you please help Darrick find my sunhat? It’s on the kitchen table.”

“Sure, Mrs. Jenks. There it is, Mr. Jenks!”  

Levi listened to the noises from next door as he stared down at his toes, wrinkling them into the sheet laid over the carpet.

“You’re late back from school, dear.”

“Schools out now, Mrs. Jenks! It’s summer, so I have to go to special classes and tutoring.”  

“Oh I see.” She raised her voice slightly. “You’re keeping him busy, Karla.”

Levi heard a woman laugh, her voice coming from the window on the other side of the living room. “I don’t have anything to do with it, he does that all on his own.”

“Hi, Mom!”

“Hello, darling. Hurry and wash up, dinner’s ready.”

“Ok, bye Mrs Jenks. Bye Mr Jenks!”

Eren heard murmuring as Karla – Eren’s mother – talked to Mrs. Jenks, and the thud of feet over wood, followed by the slam of a screen door as Eren ran into his own house.

The kid never seemed to do anything quietly.

Realizing it suddenly wasn’t as hot as it had been, Levi decided it was time to take another, proper shower, hopefully the last of the day.

---

As hot at it had been, the temperature cooled down rapidly once the sun started to ease down towards the horizon. When Levi stepped out of the bathroom again, he found himself shivering a little, and quickly pulled on a slightly less worn out shirt and actual shorts.

He’d just started towards the kitchen, ready to start on his chores, when he heard the rev of an engine next door.

Curious, in spite of himself, Levi edged forward until he could look out through one of the windows, from beneath the loose blinds. Karla stood, one leg in her car, calling to Eren who still stood on their porch, his left arm encased in the bright blue plaster cast he’d been wearing for the past month.  

“Be good, ok? I just have to stop by and check on the Hinneman’s, with their son out of town. I won’t be more than an hour, so I don’t want to call a sitter.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I’m ten years old.”

“Maybe we should ask Armin, or Mikasa to come over.” Karla clearly was not reassured by Eren’s words.

“Mom.” Eren threw so much disgust into his voice that even Levi’s mouth twitched. “I’m ten, remember. Not a baby. Besides, Mikasa’s camping, and Armin and his grandad leave for their fishing trip early tomorrow.”  

“Well, alright. Don’t go in the woods, ok?”

“Mom. I’ll be fine.”

“I know, darling, but-” She glanced at the watch on her wrist, then shook her head. “Alright, I have to go. Stay in the house, and be good.”

“Love you, mom!”

She slid fully into the car, shutting the door and backing out of the driveway. Clearly, she was distracted, because otherwise she’d never have missed Eren’s suspicious lack of agreement not to go into the woods.

Levi definitely didn’t miss it.

He watched Eren raise his cast covered arm, waving at his mom’s car as it turned onto the road heading towards town.

The sound of her engine hadn’t even entirely faded away before he turned and dashed back into his house. Barely a minute later the screen door slammed again – and now Eren was carrying a pair of large glass mason jars tied together with string, and what looked like an almost empty plastic grocery bag. The jars clanked as he jumped down the stairs and ran around the side of his house, out of Levi’s view.

Levi hurried to his own room at the back of the house, reaching the window over his bed just in time to watch a kid with messy brown hair and a cast on his arm slip on the grass at the bottom of his yard, catch himself, and then disappear into the trees.

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