#Sign for your damn package;; {Alex}

[tomreview]

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With Zero Experience (Let AI Do All The Work For You) No Coding Ai Creates Websites For Us Ai Gives Us Best Niches Ai Creates Courses For Us Ai Creates Courses For Us Ai Generates Traffic For Us Ai Generates Traffic For Us Ai Generates Sales Pages For Us Ai Generates Chat Bots For Customer Support For Us Ai Generates Chat Bots For Customer Support For Us Ai Generates Chat Bots For Customer Support For Us I'm not unfamiliar with the idea, but damn, this app is something else. Before Aicademy, it took me several days to prepare the website and hire a content writer. I can't believe that Aicademy does all of that in less than a minute. Alex Holland Alex Holland Quotes You guys created a beast.

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Even if you don't currently have a business, we can still make a lot of money with AiCademy by selling online courses. We just let AiCademy do all the work, and we just collect money. It's that simple. Newbie Ready to Change Your Life?

Red Line Good day, Bizomart Team, Pranshu Gupta, and Bizomart Team! This is Pranshu and Bizomart Team.

I'm a full-time internet marketer. Over the years, I tried dozens (or even hundreds) of ways to make money online. But the only thing that gave me the life I always wanted was creating websites. It's the easiest and fastest way to build wealth, not just make some money. Thanks to that, I can spend my time as I please. I can travel, travel, enjoy a sunset on the beach, or even play video games on my PS5. The best part is that no matter what I do in

[princepszora]

*whistles innocently as I make a small tag dump*

#tall ginger and hot as fuck;; {Axel/Lea} #sssssmokin!;; {Afton} #our chemistry is electric;; {Renji} #Got me starstruck;; {Lathos} #Sign for your damn package;; {Alex} #Papa of dragons;; {Val'um} #Mama of dragons;; {Lisanna} #The hot as fuck son of dragons;; {Tal'um} #Frosty the thicc snowbitch;; {Freia}

[coffeeshib]

Kara just really really wants to date Lena supercorp au?

“Date me,” Kara says.

“No,” Lena answers calmly.

Kara gasps, blinking fast, shocked by the nonchalant response. Lena merely looks at her tablet, her attention clearly divided. Her best friend sits cross-legged next to her on the couch, sweater and sweatpants and socks on, comfortable and relaxed.

“No? But—Lena, I’m cute and funny.” Kara scrunches her nose and squints at Lena’s tablet screen.

Lena pauses. “That’s true,” she says slowly, and finally looks at Kara. Lifting her hand up, she pushes Kara’s glasses back up on her nose using her index finger. Then, she only just returns her attention back to her tablet.

Alex squints at them from across the room. “Oh, great,” she groans, before standing up and taking her phone out of her pocket. “Where's Kelly?” she mumbles to herself as she leaves the living room, making her way to Lena’s balcony.

“Is that—wait, so is that a yes?”

“It’s a no, Kara. I only agreed with the cute & funny part,” Lena says, distracted.

“Lena.” Kara's mouth opens and closes, eyes blinking fast. “Wow, you don’t let a girl down easy. Sad girl down!”

“Well, get back up,” Lena quips. She strokes Kara’s knee, touch tender.

“I—what—?” Kara stammers, with wild eyes. Falling backwards on the couch, she stares at the ceiling. “I can’t believe you—is this how you usually respond when someone asks you out? So this is what rejection feels like.”

“Trust me, you’ll feel better after eating a plate full of potstickers.”

“Maybe.” Kara bites her bottom lip. Frowning, she sits back up and pokes Lena’s thigh. “But can I ask why not? I have abs, Lena.”

Lena wheezes. A few seconds later, Kara also shakes in silent laughter as well.

“Look,” Kara says, touches her glasses and licks her lips. She’s trying to keep a straight face on. “I’ll play with your hair everyday and give you lots of face kisses if you date me.”

“Well…” Setting the tablet down, Lena pretends to think about it.

Then, the balcony door opens and Alex shows up again, walking in. 

Lena shoots Alex a please help me look, but Alex pretends she doesn’t see it as she refills her glass of water. After that, she dashes out of the room so quickly she becomes a blur of red hair and black clothes.

Damn her.

Kara sees Lena’s face and pouts, taking her arms back. Lena whimpers, because the heaters aren’t on and it’s cold right now and Kara’s hands on her waist were keeping her warm, goddamnit.

Lena tries, and fails, to pull Kara’s arms back around her.

“Kara. Those arms, put them back where they came from—”

Kara does as told, and indulges her. “I have decided that this is the last time I’m going to cuddle you. I only cuddle people I date.”

“Lies.”

“It’s true.”

Lena breaks into a smile—or rather a smirk, really. “It’s not. Don’t threaten to deprive me of your warm hugs and cuddles.”

“Oh, Lena.” Kara sighs. “You see, I would pay so much more attention to you if you dated me. Your best friend who has abs. So, maybe date me?”

Lena considers it for a second, then wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think so.”

“Wha—” Kara stutters, offended. “I'll have you know I'm an excellent girlfriend. I'll bring you flowers and chocolate and give you nose kisses. You’re the perfect height to receive nose kisses from me.”

Lena only stares at her, the corners of her mouth twitching into something like a smile.

Then, someone laughs—loud.

They both look up to see Alex on the balcony with a ridiculous goofy smile on her face, phone next to her ear.

“Look at Alex. I want that. Did you know that Alex’s girlfriend takes her on a date every week, each Saturday, and has a special routine? Kelly gives Alex’s face ten kisses every night, all over her face. It’s relationship goals.”

Lena cracks a smile. “Gay.”

Kara nods solemnly. “Gay.”

“Women, huh, Kara.” Lena arches an eyebrow at her.

“Hush, Lena. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

Lena tilts her head, smiling amusedly. “Kara, you’ve been ‘coming to terms with it’ since… well, since you met me. I think you have it figured out by now.”

Kara shrugs. “I mean… I still don’t know for sure, Lena. See, I’ve never dated a woman before—”

“—What on earth are you talking about, you dated Lucy before she left National City—”

“—How do I truly know if I like women if I have never felt the warmth of a woman’s touch? I’ve walked my whole life confused, lost and scared, hidden from showing my true self to anyone—”

“—Kara, Eliza said “I know” when you came out to her—”

Kara sighs deeply, eyes wide. “How do I just know when I don’t even know how to hold a woman’s hand?”

Lena takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “And I thought I was the dramatic one. Darling, you astound me.”

Kara sighs, sad and dejected. “Lena, what was that quote about tiddies?”

“The what now?”

“From Sappho’s. I think it was something like ‘may you sleep on the breast of your delicate friend’? Yeah, it’s that. Oh to sleep on the breast of my delicate friend.” Kara cries. “That’s what I want, too.”

Lena falls down on Kara’s chest, laughter bubbling inside her chest and trying to squirm away. Kara doesn't let her, instead she just cackles along with her. Lena bites Kara on the neck, who doesn't even flinch, which, what the fuck—instead just shifts Lena back to sitting up and then dramatically sprawls out on her back even more.

“Date me, Lena,” Kara says. “Date me, date me, date me—”

“Kara.” Lena sighs, squeezing Kara’s hand. “I am not going to date you. You would spend more time at the gym than you would with me.” She pokes her abs.

“Oh, no.” Kara sniffs. “But you like and enjoy how strong I am. Don't think I don't notice how flustered you get when I pick you up or hold you in my arms.”

Lena looks faintly pink. “That's none of your business,” she says calmly. “I like muscles, you're not special.” Kara only just now notices Lena’s wrinkled sweater from the earlier actions, and starts smoothing them.

“You look nice. You look really good in my clothes.”

Lena sits still as Kara fixes her up, keeping a poker face even when Kara tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I look good in everything.”

“But my clothes are simply the best.” Then, Kara gasps. “Yet another reason you should date me.”

Lena sighs, shifting her weight around in Kara’s lap. It’s quiet for a bit, eyes on each other as they listen to Alex talking outside.

Kara takes the opportunity to cup Lena’s face. When Lena doesn’t move, just stays still in Kara’s lap, Kara gives Lena a kiss on the cheek.

Lena pulls back.

“Kara! What was that.” Lena raises an eyebrow, incredulous. Her hands slip under Kara’s shirt, palm on her abs.

“I'm trying to seduce you,” Kara says, trying to keep a straight face, and stops Lena’s wandering hands underneath her shirt.

“It isn't working.”

“Darn.”

Lena nods. “You need to work on your skill.”

“Yes, well… that's not exactly what the last person I had sex with said.”

Lena frowns. “Wait, what? When did you have sex with someone?”

“Hmm. Just yesterday, some woman from a friend’s birthday party. She was lovely. Pretty, too. Why, you jealous?”

Lena scoffs. “No,” she says. Kara pokes her cheek.

“Aw, jealous baby,” Kara coos. “How can you be jealous when you’re not even dating me?”

“I’m not jealous,” Lena insists. “I know what you taste like. I know how you are, and I’m very sure I’m not missing out on much.”

“Oh, really now.” Kara breathes a laugh. “I made you cry the last time we hooked up! You were begging so much—Kara, Kara, please! Kara please, want you to touch me, fuck me now, don’t stop, please, please—”

Lena lets out a strangled noise and quickly quiets Kara, squishing her palm against Kara’s mouth. After a moment, when Kara shows no sign of talking anymore, Lena hesitantly takes her hand off Kara’s mouth.

“So, it’s really a big no on dating me, huh.”

Lena pauses, biting her lip.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Amazing,” Kara whispers. “Lena, are we still pretending it wasn't you that I danced & flirted with at Kelly’s birthday party? I even guided you all the way back to your bed. It's been one whole day since you've last gotten—well, um. You know. Are you okay? How are you surviving?”

“I’m thriving.” Lena breathes out. “I’m living my best life. Been doing some soul searching, too. Finding myself.”

Kara wheezes.

“If you really want to date me,” Lena says, seriously, “you would make me some tea and let me do my work peacefully.”

Kara turns incredulous. “But Lena, I can't move.” She cries. “You’re in my lap, snuggled toasty warm against me and feeling me up. You get up!”

Lena slumps down until Kara’s back hits the couch and Lena’s lying completely on Kara. Kara immediately hugs her with her toned arms. 

“No,” Lena says. “I’m cold, warm me up.”

“Ice block human,” Kara whispers. “Date me.”

“No,” Lena says, groaning right into Kara’s ear. She tucks her face into Kara’s neck, her lips touching the skin there. “No, for the last time. I will not date you, Kara Danvers.”

“Golly—that’s not even my full name. How many times can you break a woman's heart today? Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker.”

Lena only makes a muffled sound against her neck.

“No more straps. I’m never giving you some ever again,” Kara decides.

“But I like it when you use the strap. Why not?”

Kara scoffs. “I meant the sour straps. Lollies—my snacks in the cupboards. But since you brought that up, I mean that, too.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Lena pulls herself away, now sitting on Kara’s thighs.

“Dead serious. I’m cute, funny, and I have abs. And as you already know, my strap game is rather incredible. Ask yourself if you deserve the hot package.”

Lena sighs, looking like she’s really considering it. “Kara.”

“I’m a hot item.”

“Come on now, Kara…”

Kara sighs and turns her head to the side, dramatically.

Lena shakes her head. “This doesn’t need to be complicated.”

Kara frowns. “Oh, I see it now. All this time, the only reason why you like me is because of my strap game. I should have known.”

“Oh my god.”

Kara fake sniffs. “No matter, Lena. You’re my favourite person. I still love you, even knowing this.”

Lena mock slaps her on the shoulder, turning it into a gentle hand when it moves up on Kara’s cheek.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? And pretty, too,” Lena murmurs. Kara takes Lena’s hand off her cheek and presses a kiss to the palm, eyes never leaving Lena’s. Lena’s cheeks darken with colour.

“You’re prettier.”

Lena swallows. “Kara, I—”

“I can’t take this any longer.” Alex opens the door loudly and stomps her way inside. “Can you two stop fucking flirting for one goddamn minute?”

“Alex, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Lena states, blinking. “Kara, darling, could you please remove your hand from my boob?”

Kara gives Lena’s boob a soft squeeze, her other hand cupping bare skin from where she's slipped her hand underneath Lena's sweater.

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay, then.”

“Oh my god,” Alex says, covering her face with her hands. “I want to go home. I need to go—now. I got what I wanted a while ago.”

“Love you, Alex. You are more than welcome to,” Kara tells her. “You’ve been here in Lena’s penthouse long enough.”

“What—you talk as if you haven’t been here all day, too.” Lena frowns.

“It’s the weekend—no work, no other stuff. What’s wrong with spending my free time with my best friend?” Kara says, cupping Lena’s face lovingly.

Lena smiles. “You’re sweet.”

Alex stares at them, horrified. “Wow, it’s like… it’s like listening to highschoolers on a first date!”

“Um, but we aren't dating, Alex,” Kara reminds her sister gently.

“No, no, you're right, Kara. You aren't dating,” Alex agrees, and takes a deep, deep breath. “You're fucking married,” she hisses, wild-eyed. “I was the goddamn maid of honour at your wedding. You live here and you co-parent a cat with Lena. You've been married for like, three years now. Which makes your strange, awful flirting so much worse, Kara Danvers-Luthor!"

Kara and Lena only look at each other, snickering.

———

(not-so?) SURPRISE THEY’RE MARRIED

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #(very) slowly getting the prompts in my inbox filled #prob not what you expected anon but hope you liked!! #asks #my writing

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter fifteen: nightshade, hemlock, mistletoe, and oleanders

"you raise up your head and you ask, 'is this where it is?' and somebody points to you and says, 'it's his', and you say, 'what's mine?' and somebody else says, 'well, what is?' and you say, 'oh my god, am I here all alone?' but something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, mr. jones?" -"ballad of a thin man", bob dylan

At some point, during Sam's absence, Scott had spoke with Charlie over the phone over the course of a few days. Apparently, the marriage was on its last legs while neither of them paid any attention whatsoever. It all happened in one fell swoop and without a shred of remorse to boot: he was asked to leave and move somewhere else in Queens. Scott ran his finger over the rim of his water glass and propped up the side of his head in the palm of his hand. Every so often, he took a glimpse up towards the front door of the restaurant: near there was a nook in the wall in which the maitre d' suggested they keep their instruments safe at.

“How you feeling in the meantime?” Belinda kindly asked him.

“Like I'm ready to just—faint,” he confessed. “I thought Marge was it for me. Like there was no one else for me in the world.” He sighed through his nose and Belinda reached over for a pat on his shoulder. He showed her a friendly little smile, albeit a sad one.

Sam and Joey sat right across from the two of them there at the table. She glanced over at him and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“I'm sorry I hit you,” she told him, to which he shook his head.

“It's okay—if anything, I deserved both of those,” he assured her. “I've had far worse injuries, too, playing hockey and whatnot. I'd get hit with pucks and smacked with sticks—you don't walk away from a hockey rink to be a full time musician and not have problems with your teeth.” He showed her another lopsided little smile and she returned the favor. “So you're down—where?”

“Santa Catalina Island. Twenty two miles off the coast. But then again, I still have a place in New York City. You know, the apartment in Hell's Kitchen.”

“It's an island, though,” Joey pointed out. “An island, Sam! You're currently based off of an island.” He then bowed his head and cocked his mouth to the side. “Not to brag or anything,” he started again, that time in a false pompous accent, “but due to the amount of wealth I've gotten, I can buy an island at no rhyme or reason at 'tall!”

She burst out laughing at that, and she had forgotten that Scott and Belinda were still right there across from them. She turned to them right as he fetched up a sigh and looked away from them, and thus she stopped right in her tracks. Sam returned to Joey as a result: he ran his fingers through his inky black curls and he tilted his head back a bit so as to show off a bit of his throat and his Adam's apple. Not as prominent or sharp as Alex's, but still one for her to look at for a little more than a few seconds.

He then gave his hair a little toss and he turned his head to the side, and he showed her his side profile. She had left her journal back on Catalina, but at least she knew she was headed back there soon enough.

“You know what I feel like doin'?” he asked her.

“What's that?”

He glanced over at the far side of the restaurant, past the front room and to the doors next to that big front bay window.

“You have to use the bathroom?” she asked him, and he returned to her with a smirk on his face. “Oh, no, Joey.”

“What? Why not?”

“I'm not going into the men's room with you.”

“I never said we were goin' into the men's room,” he pointed out, “but I do wanna—” He gestured to her body and he showed her that smirk once again.

“Well, we can't really do it in this place, though.”

“We can go outside,” he suggested.

“It'd be cold, though.”

“Nonsense. If it's cold, it gets the girls nice and pointy and it gets the channel below the equator nice and damp, too.”

“Here's a challenge for you,” she started with a raise of her finger.

“Okay. I'm up for a challenge. I'm an athlete, thus I'm always up for a challenge.”

“You go over to that woman whom you've just met and break it off with her 'cause I'm bored.”

He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Joey, if you really feel things with me, I want you to prove it.”

He never moved or said anything.

“I want you to prove it and that I'm not just another fuck toy to you,” she continued.

Without any moment's hesitation, he clasped his hands on either side of her face and kissed her right on the lips. Those soft dark lips as smooth as molten chocolate. Right in front of everyone. Right in front of Scott and Belinda.

“Jesus, Joe,” he remarked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, Sam!” she declared to which she clapped her hands. Sam brought her hands down to his slender knees as they lingered close to her own. She was so close to the space between his thighs, so close to his belt, such that she could let her fingers find their way there.

But she kept her fingers upon those delicate knobby knees, right upon that snug rich black denim. Joey let his tongue slither right into her mouth a little bit: such a strange feeling to feel him inside of her mouth once again. His grip on either side of her face was soft and he slid his body closer to her. Even only a few inches between them and she could feel his warmth.

For a fleeting moment, she thought about when Alex leaned his body against her own back at the house on Catalina as he climbed out of that stool. But this was a different warmth, a different feeling. The softness and slim gentleness of Joey.

“French it up, why don't ya, Joseph?” Scott cracked. Sam squeezed Joey's knees as she slipped her tongue into his mouth a little bit for a taste.

Belinda whispered something to Scott, and he chuckled at that.

Sam then let go of his mouth and she gazed right into his big brown eyes as if she stared into her own. She then ran her fingers through his black curls and he closed his eyes. His curls, while soft and clean, felt a lot more coarse than usual. Coarse and fuzzy with the dryness that surrounded them there in California, the dryness despite the marine layer overhead and the rainfall from the night before.

She could smell him again on her clothes. She knew that she would never forget the taste of him on her lips and her tongue. She caressed the side of his face and she kept her eyes locked onto those soft brown irises as they swallowed her whole. As dark and full as the bottom of the ocean. As venomous as the very deadly nightshade he crawled out from onto the cold earth around them.

He parted those dark lips as he was about to say something, but no sound came out.

“Hey, love birds,” Scott called out to them, and they both broke out of it, and they turned their attention over to the waiter who brought the four of them their drinks to kick things off. Sam picked up her glass of lemonade and took a quick large sip of it; Joey blew on the surface of his coffee before he took a drink.

“You're not even gonna add sugar to it?” Belinda asked with an unsure chuckle. Sam turned her attention to Scott as he held his mug of Irish coffee to his mouth.

“Doesn't need sugar,” he assured her with a shake of his head. “It's already got the whole package.” He took a sip with his eyes closed.

“I've had Irish coffee before,” Sam recalled. “How is it?”

“Damn rich,” Scott replied, and he coughed. “Whoa. That'll put some hair on the chest.”

“Right back in where you shaved the word 'not' in?” Joey teased him, and Belinda laughed at that.

“Yes, Joey!” Scott laughed along with her.

“Wow!” Chuck's voice carried in right there, and the four of them turned their attention to the left side of the room. He stepped into the room at that moment and he showed off a big sheet of thick paper to them. It was a drawing of him with his arms curled out before him and his head bowed a bit. All along his arms were jagged points, all done in big bold but soft colors.

“Holy shit,” Scott declared.

“Beautiful, Chuck—” Belinda said, and her voice trailed off at the sight of it.

“It's all crystals,” he said, “at least that's according to Marla.”

“Marla made you that?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah, I was just gonna say, that looks like her style,” Belinda added.

Sam turned her attention to Joey.

“I left my journal on Catalina,” she admitted to him with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Damn. I really wanted to see what kind of art you've been up to lately.”

“It's been—I want to say autobiographical. On the next boat ride over, I'll make a note to show you.”

“Next boat ride over to visit yo' mama,” Joey cracked as he took a sip of his black coffee.

“Visit Joe Mama?” she joked.

“Visit Joe Mama, exactly!” He drank down a bit more of his coffee before Scott passed that drawing of Chuck over to them for a better look. Marla had sketched him out with some bright pink colored pencil and then she outlined him with thick lines of black ink, while the crystals where shaded in with those fine points. Down at the bottom of the page, she had signed her name “Marla Taylor” in large curly penmanship.

“Who needs to buy someone something when you can make 'em?” Sam proclaimed.

“Right, right,” Joey said as he took yet another drink of coffee. He still hadn't let things go with Testament, but she dared not let that interfere with her appreciation of her best friend's artistry. Those clean lines and Sam wanted to make some more pieces of art, all for Testament themselves. But she knew that someone on their end would recognize it, especially if she did something as obvious as sign her initials at the very bottom. Something more, something different.

An eager Chuck returned to them to fetch that piece of drawing and Joey then tapped on Sam's shoulder.

“Come with me,” he whispered into her ear, even though she was hungry and she wanted to stay there to see what Scott had in mind for brunch. But Joey insisted, and thus she followed him over to the bathrooms. They passed under a sprig of mistletoe pinned up to the wall over the entrance to the front of the restaurant; it was there she stopped right in her tracks when she realized where he was taking her.

“Joey, we're not doing it in the bathroom,” she scoffed.

“We won't,” he assured her; instead, he took her hand and he led her to that narrow hallway which led to the bathrooms. He kept on walking past the men's room and to the narrow little nook right around the corner from there. He pressed his back to the wall and he unzipped his little black leather jacket, and he showed off his chest to her.

“Oh, I see,” she breathed.

“Yeah—c'mon, Sam I am,” he begged her, to which he slid down the wall a bit so he was eye to eye with her.

“Where do you—um, want me to start?” she asked him.

“I'll start things off, actually,” he told her and he lunged for the button on her jeans. Sam held still with her legs spread out as he undid it for her. Butterflies danced about in her stomach as he ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. He had such a fierce twinkle in his eyes: they shone brighter than the fire opals on her bracelet.

He brought his dark lips to the little bit of skin right under her belly button, to which she gasped at the feeling.

“Oh—!”

“Yeah,” he growled as he gave her another kiss there. She realized that he was going all the way down from her waist to what lay below. She had given it to him while in England and so it made sense that he returned the favor to her. His lips were warm and silken, and far more than the feeling of molten chocolate.

“Joey?” a woman's voice caught them both off guard.

He stopped. Sam froze in her tracks. He lifted his head and he fixed her jeans, but he never buttoned them back up again.

“What're you doing?” Sam demanded.

“What're you doing?” the woman laughed, and he clambered to his feet. He ran his fingers through his black curls and stood right before Sam so she wouldn't have to see her. The woman chuckled at him.

Sam peeked out from behind him to the woman across from them. She was about Joey's height, but she had a full head of frizzy but neat golden blonde hair down past her shoulders. She did in fact look older than Sam herself, but not too much older: her milky white skin had not a single blemish or crease on it, but her deep eyes aged her more than a piece of gray hair ever would for her. She was slender but with that classic hourglass figure, much like a model: it also didn't help matters that she wore big black stiletto heels on her feet to go with her fitted dark denim jeans.

“What're you doing?” she asked him with another chuckle.

“She—” Joey gestured back to Sam. “—had a spot on her jeans and I was just—checking it.”

She froze and she looked back at Sam, whose mouth had gone completely dry and whose mind had gone completely blank. Nothing to say and nowhere to begin. The woman then chuckled again, and then she shook her head.

“You're funny!” she told him, and he sank down a bit so she could Sam in full for herself.

“Krista, this is Sam—better known as Sam I am.”

“Sam I am?” Krista echoed him.

“Also known as Sammich, Samantha, and—my personal favorite—Sam hill.”

“Sam—this is—this is Krista,” he sputtered. “My new friend.”

“Friend?” she demanded from him. She gaped at him complete with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Y-Yes,” Joey stammered; even with his sun kissed skin, the blush in his face was all too obvious. Krista flashed her an unsure smile and she shrugged in response. He cleared his throat once, twice, four times and he bowed away from them so they wouldn't have to see his face; Sam lingered closer to him.

“H-H-How'd you know I was back here?” he stammered some more to her.

“Scott told me he saw you run back here,” Krista explained, and Sam frowned at the sight of the blush on his face and his heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, concerned, and he coughed a bit.

“Yeah—I just—got a—a—” He patted his chest and straightened himself upright. “—a—a li'l—um—”

“Joey,” Krista said.

“Joey,” Sam echoed her.

“Huh?”

“You don't—look good,” Krista told him with a shake of her head.

“Yeah, you look like you're about ready to pass out,” Sam added.

“I'm fine, I promise,” he assured them, but then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell onto his back. Krista and Sam glanced at one another in complete amazement, and they both stood over him as he lay there on the linoleum with his arms out on either side of him.

“What should we do?” Sam asked her in a small voice, to which Krista nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Good question.” She stopped and then she looked over at Sam with a tested look on her face. “Was he—actually checking your jeans?”

“Do you want the truth?” Sam asked her.

“Always.” She smelled faintly of peppermint, an aroma that Sam hadn't smelled in what felt like forever; Sam herself shook her head and Krista fetched up a sigh and rolled her eyes.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of this,” she told her in a low voice and with a wave of her hand

“Okay,” Sam replied with a nod of her head, and she stepped away from there. Her face felt so hot right then: it felt rather obvious in that hallway that Joey had kindled up a new flame there with another woman, and yet she still wanted him. She still wanted him even when she realized that her jeans were about to fall right off her hips.

She caught herself before anyone else caught her with her pants down.

Sam stopped right there, right underneath the sprig of mistletoe and she adjusted the zipper on her jeans. Krista's laughter floated out from that hallway and Sam sighed through her nose. Unless he really made it obvious to her, then she wouldn't have gone through with that with him. Or maybe he wanted to play the field, but there were too many questions she had already at that moment.

She straightened her shirt out and gave her dark hair a little toss back with a flick of her head. She could only hope that he was playing the field. That was the only hope she had right then.

“Hey, Sam!” Scott called out right then.

“Brunch is here!” Belinda added.

She turned to those tables right behind her and she joined them both for some French toast, sausage links, and biscuits and gravy.

“Where's Mr. Nightshade?” Belinda asked her.

“He's—He's—He's—” Sam could hardly speak herself. She sipped on her lemonade a bit so as to clear her head. “He's having a moment,” she spoke right then.

Scott chuckled at that. Even from a momentary glimpse, Sam could tell that that mug of Irish coffee had already left its mark on him.

But she shrugged and she dug into her biscuits and gravy, the former of which were light and fluffy and fresh out of the oven; the latter of which was pale but peppery and even soft in texture. She took a glance to the left and the booth that Testament had packed into for themselves.

Chuck and Eric were both still very much in awe of that drawing that Marla had made; if only there was a way in which Sam could find her way back to Catalina just to fetch her journal, but alas she could not, not with brunch at the helm. Meanwhile, Alex leaned his back to the wall there in the booth and he kept his cup of tea close to his chest. He took a glimpse over at her with those deep eyes, as they looked as deep as ever at that moment.

If Joey could play around with another woman, why not play around with other men? If he really wanted her that bad, then she would have to act.

Scott cracked a joke to Belinda and she almost choked on her bite of sausage from laughing so hard. But Sam had her attention fixated upon the young buck across the floor from her. The shirt that her mother had bought for her fit him rather snugly, all around his waist and his chest, such that he had undone the top two buttons and showed off a bit of his chest. He said something to Greg who then nodded at him: he leaned past him and flashed Sam a wink. She returned the favor with a pretty little wave.

Alex picked up his tea and sauntered across the floor towards her. For a second, she swore that he had a bit of a sway to his hips as if he knew what was going on.

He took his seat next to her but he never bunched up closer to her than the single couple of inches that the seats allowed them.

“By the way, I should tell you, that wasn't me who was rubbing your butt last night,” she promised him.

“I think you told me that and I wasn't able to say something about that,” he recalled, “to that I say—” He gaped at her. “—oh, no.”

“Yeah. But if it's any comfort, though, my mom had the hots for Joey when I brought him home.”

“Wow.” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“Yeah. If it's any further comfort, I'm nothing like that.”

“Is your mom like—always like that?” He lowered his voice a bit on that last part.

“Not really,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “It's like—something woke her up when I brought Joey home for her to meet him.”

He paused for a second.

“What exactly does she do?” he asked her.

“She's a writer. No clue what she writes, though, but she's got a good deal with it, such that—you know, she was able to move to Catalina and spoil us for a few days.”

Alex glanced behind him.

“Where even is Joey?” he wondered aloud.

“I have no clue.”

“Well, I saw you kissin' him,” he muttered to her.

“And?”

He held his hands on either side of his tea cup and he pursed his lips together.

“And? Alex?”

“Thought you guys were really gonna go there,” he confessed with a lean of his head towards her.

“We didn't, though,” she assured him in a low voice. She mopped up a bite of biscuit in gravy.

“How is it?” he asked her.

“Delicious.”

“We haven't gotten ours yet.”

“Are you serious?” She was stunned by that.

“Dead serious. Hope it comes soon, too—it smells divine.”

He took a sip from his tea and she ate up that bite of biscuit in unison with him.

“That was good pie, though,” he told her.

“The pie we had last night?”

“Yeah. Nice li'l slice of your mom's pie right in my belly.”

She giggled at him.

“Kinda wish we had some more of it,” he confessed.

“More of that plus the spag Bol from the first night,” she added.

“Oh, my god, that was unreal. So simple and homey but god—it just warmed me up so much that I fell asleep right when I lay down on the couch.”

He sipped on the tea some more and that time he closed his eyes to nourish the feeling. Sam took another bite of biscuit and gravy and she, too, closed her eyes so to relish in the lush pepper paired with the light and fluffy biscuit.

“Hey, you two guys wanna hang with us for New Year's and my birthday?” Scott offered them.

“Oh, yeah, that's right!” Sam declared. “Your birthday's New Year's Eve. Um—well, I was planning on coming to see you guys on New Year's but I dunno about afterwards, though.”

“Yeah, me, neither,” Alex confessed.

“Come on—it'll be fun!” Scott declared. “Metallica will be there, too. I talked to James just yesterday—they're gonna be with us.” Sam was reluctant however, given she had a hunch that Joey had his heart in Krista rather than her even with the kiss he had bestowed on her. Charlie called to Scott from across the room right then, and he raised a finger to them, and then he strode away from there. Sam turned to Alex and he looked on at her, puzzled and with both hands still around the base of his tea cup.

“Alex—will you hang with me on New Year's Eve?” she asked him.

“You're asking me to hang with you?” he echoed her.

“If you don't mind,” she told him with a shrug of her shoulders. He shifted his weight and flicked his black curls back from the side of his neck. The hair dye still held up but she could see it fading away from his hair. Those grays were persistent in how they didn't want to be hidden away.

“You know what?” he said. “I'd love to. Are we going back to Catalina or somewhere else?”

Sam hesitated for a second. That house up in Reno was empty but the memories still remained there.

“Let's go somewhere else,” she told him. “Has Testament ever toured Reno?”

“Uh, we've toured in Vegas. But—not really, no.” He gazed on at her, those deep eyes so deep and soulful. “Why?” He squinted at her.

She brought the tines of the fork to her lips but she never said anything to him. His face then lit up and he snapped his fingers.

“That reminds me,” he said.

“What's that?”

“I have something to give you,” he told her.

“More and more gifts each and every time,” she joked.

“Well, it's because we love you,” he declared. “You don't give gifts to people when you don't love them.”

He took another sip of tea and then he gestured for her to follow him into the front part of the restaurant, right to the front room and back in the direction of Joey and Krista.

“Careful with the mistletoe there,” she noted, to which Alex leaned his back towards the wall and let her go ahead to the other room. He then bowed after her, right underneath that little lush sprig of mistletoe. He joined her right by her side all the way back to the front door.

There was that small space right next to the door: near the front of the whole stack stood his guitar case. He crouched down to the floor and he nudged it to the side: Sam lingered next to him with her hands pressed to her hips.

“Let's see, I think—Eric had it stashed with him,” he said aloud, “like I showed it to him right before our second night in Reseda and he was like 'yeah, I'll keep it safe for you, Alex.'” He then lifted his gaze back up to her.

“Seeing as you just have your little purses,” he started, and he took out a large red wine colored handbag with a small five petaled flower comprised of large mismatched beads sewn to the front: a flower that reminded her of the oleanders there in the south land. It was obviously handmade but the sight of it made her gasp.

“Oh, my god, Alex—this is beautiful.”

“I just think of the glorious guitar strap that you and Belinda made for me for my birthday last year,” he confessed, “and I decided to make something of my own for you. I just see you with your purses and all the stuff you put into them, and at one point, I thought, 'man, Samantha could use something a little bigger, but I'm not finding anything larger, though.' It was actually an effort from me, my brother, and both my parents—I don't know the first thing about beading. But I suggested it to my mom and she goes, 'okay, honey, I'll give it a shot.' My brother and I picked out the color and the fabric, and my dad pieced it together—”

Sam threw her arms around him before he could finish his sentence, and then he returned the favor. Those long spidery fingers caressed over her back and her hair.

It was going to be the first New Year's Eve in which she would have no one to kiss especially if Joey was going to tease like that. But then again, Alex stood there next to her with his body close to her. The warmth of his body. The softness of his white skin and his jet black hair.

She looked right into his round boyish face and he showed her a little grin, albeit one full of imperfect teeth.

“So where do you wanna take me?” he asked her.

“I'll take you to the place I know all too well,” she told him. “It's a long drive, though.”

“I'm up for it,” he promised her. “As long as we get to see Anthrax in Long Beach the night before.”

“Of course! And that's Zelda's birthday, too.”

He gaped at her.

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Yeah. I just now remembered it, too. She threw it at me during the Stormtroopers of Death tour. I can't believe I still remember it, too.”

“Wow,” he said in a hushed voice. He adjusted the collar of his shirt and she slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Does it fit?” he asked her; and she brought the bag itself close to her hip.

“Like a glove,” she promptly replied.

“Excellent!” He flashed her a thumbs up.

“We have to go back to Catalina, though,” she told him. “Just—you know. Tell my mom what's up and whatnot.”

“Day after Christmas, though.”

“Of course,” she told him and with a nod of her head, “of course, of course, Alex. If she rubs your butt again, I'll tell her about it. Don't you worry.”

He fetched up a sigh and then he bowed his head a bit. He stepped back for a better look at the handbag under her arm. She brought it up before her thighs: the bud of the oleander was comprised of five small black onyx beads, much like the ones on the bracelet Chuck gave her, as well as one large wooden bead. Light pink and white beads meanwhile made up those five petals for that familiar poison flower.

“It almost looks like a book bag,” he noted. “Like something you take to school.” He froze right then. “By the way, are you even still in school?”

“I don't think I am,” she confessed. “I never got any pieces of mail from there—no grants or anything. As far as I know, Bill ended the whole entire career for me.”

“That greasy bastard,” he proclaimed. “Talk about not practicing what he preaches.”

“Right?” she laughed. “Although if I'm honest, Alex, I almost felt restrained while in school.”

“Well, I'm gonna relay the same thing Eric told you earlier—if it feels right, you're probably right.”

“Hey, Alex!” Eric himself said right behind them. “Biscuits are here.”

“Oh boy!” Alex rubbed his hands together, and Eric spotted the handbag under Sam's arm.

“Oh, hey, you found that in my case!”

“Sure as hell,” Alex replied.

“Thank you again, too,” Sam told him and they embraced one last time before Alex hurried back to the table with Eric. The warmth stayed in her face as she walked back to Scott and Belinda.

It was only fair to herself and Joey after all.

#fanfic #fanfiction #anthrax fanfic #testament fanfic #chapter 15 #souls of black #book four #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #anthrax #testament #testament band #scott ian #joey belladonna #joey belladonna x oc #alex skolnick #chuck billy #greg christian #eric peterson #long reads #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #writing #text

[spaceskam]

who am I if not giving? valmis’ poetry in fic form for @pastelwitchling ❤️️

“You need to stop.”

“Stop what, exactly?”

Max sighed and shook his head, trying to figure out what exactly would get through Michael’s thick skull. He loved him, he did, but ever since being fucking revived, Max didn’t exactly have the energy to deal with him.

“Stop forcing this,” Max said, “You aren’t happy. If I’ve learned anything from dying, it’s that happiness should be your top priority.”

Michael stayed slumped in the chair outside of the air stream, looking up at him half-drunk and half itching for a fight. Max wasn’t really eager to entertain either of those things. But, still, he didn’t do anything but roll his eyes when Michael tilted his head back.

“Just tell Maria you aren’t in love with her and put your energy into getting Alex back,” Max told him. Michael scoffed and shook his head.

“You don’t know shit.”

“I know you’re forcing it and I know you’re not happy. You went into that relationship thinking it was new or easy and then she’s just got the same fucking baggage that comes with having a long ass history tied up with aliens. Now you’re just there because you feel obligated. Anyone can see that you aren’t happy and that you miss Alex,” Max explained. Michael glared at him, pushing himself to his feet. “Truth hurts, huh?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Max,” he said, sauntering closer in a way that was probably meant to be intimidating,”I’m not obligated to do shit and it doesn’t matter what you think I want from Alex because that’s not an option. He’s got a boyfriend, he’s happy, I’m not fucking with that.”

“You didn’t deny that you miss being with him,” Max said. Michael just continued that harsh little glare. “I bet if you just–”

“You don’t know anything!” Michael spat, “I’m not messing with what he has because you think you know what happened!”

“Fine,” Max sighed, too tired to argue, “Fine, but you need to do something. Write it out, something. Because whatever you’re doing isn’t working. You’re worse off than I’ve ever seen you and it’s getting old.”

“Write it out?” Michael repeated like it was a joke. Max just shrugged.

“Get all the feelings out. It helps, I promise.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe that.”

-

Maria had low expectations.

Michael disappeared for hours or days at a time, coming home smelling of motor oil and stale whiskey. She couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been sober, but that was fine. She knew what she’d signed up for when she got in a relationship with him.

What she didn’t sign up for was the angry, telekinetic bottle smashing or the waking up in the middle of the night to him crying in the bathroom. She didn’t sign up for him to be useless in bed after too many drinks, which was always now, and she didn’t sign up mad scientist levels of chaos in her kitchen whenever he got an idea that he’d abandon a few hours later when he passed out. It was chaotic and she was slowly but surely becoming miserable with him around. 

But the problem was, if this didn’t work, then what was the point? She’d destroyed any semblance of her relationship with Alex. There was no coming back from that. If she let this thing with Michael crumble, then how could she possibly defend her actions? Besides, Michael seemed to depend on her. She couldn’t just leave him. She could fix him if she tried hard enough.

Maria made her way to her apartment that Michael Guerin had infiltrated after a long shift at work, eager to go to sleep but also knowing that there was a chance she would have his shit to clean up. When she opened the door, she couldn’t even be surprised to see the shit show he’d created. He was passed out on the floor, surrounded by papers upon papers. It looked like he’d torn apart six different notebooks and even bought new pens to do so if the shredded packaging beneath the coffee table said anything.

“God damn it, Guerin,” she sighed, dropping her bag by the door. Mindlessly, she began to pick all the pages.

Some had drawings, others had math. Most had math. A few others had words scribbled in his shitty handwriting, damn near illegible. She ignored it, putting them all in a stack on the table. Then she got to the one he’d passed out on. It longer, a bit more cohesive which was surprising since his brain had clearly checked out right after.

This one was the only one that had a title. Or, something like that. Vulnerable lover was scribbled across the top and that made her smile. Maybe he was trying for once. Out of her own curiosity, she kept reading.

The first line alone was enough to make her realize this had nothing to do with her. So definitely not her. Maria felt her heart ache in something that wanted so badly to be betrayal, but it was clear the only person she’d betrayed was herself. How stupid could she have been to ignore what was right in front of her? No wonder she couldn’t fix him.

Maria looked between the stupid fucking poem and the unconscious man on her floor. She didn’t know what to do about that. Honestly, she didn’t want him in her apartment. She just... 

Before she could even think of anything, she stalked back over to her bag and fished for her phone. She dialed Alex’s number and, before she could second guess it, he answered. Why was he awake? Why did he answer so quick in the middle of the night, but avoided her calls during the day?

“Hello?” he asked. She sniffled, eyes skimming the poem again.

“You need to come get your boyfriend.”

“Uh,” Alex said slowly, “My boyfriend is right here.”

“Hey, Maria,” Forrest chimed in from beside him. Maria rolled her eyes. Of course they got to be happy. 

“A veteran move as you limp into frame. Longing to be your crutch, I want to consume your pain,” Maria read off, trying not to be too anger. It didn’t work. She was pissed.

“What?”

“So I loosen my belt, a familiar feeling. Ten years later and my heart’s still reeling,” she continued, voice turning a little sarcastic as she did so. It seemed to click what she was reading.

“Maria, sto–“

“Then you show up on my porch, floating down the stream. While I swim uphill, running out of steam.”

“Maria.”

“Lies upon lies, thighs upon thighs,” she read, scoffing, “Thighs, Alex.”

“Please, just–“

“Love a woman’s touch, but, damn, that guy.” Maria couldn’t help as tears pricked her eyes as she read that line out loud. She really was just a second choice.

“Where is Michael?”

“The one who lifted my heaviest sighs with ease. Too much pride to beg, I’ll let my looks say please,” she said, cynicism dripping from her tone, “So ignore my words, this is where I stand. You’re a pretty little liar and I’m your man.”

Alex was silent for a moment as if he was waiting for her to continue, as if that wasn’t damning enough. When she looked over to Michael again, he hadn’t even budged. He was dead asleep as if he didn’t know what the hell he’d just done.

“Well?” Maria said, “There’s your big love confession, you win.”

“It’s not a game, Maria,” Alex said softly, “He’s not a prize.”

“Are you sure about that? Because it seems like that’s what he fucking wants to be. He just wants you, Alex,” she told him, “Come fucking get him.”

“Fine, I’ll be there soon,” Alex said and then the call ended.

Maria resisted the urge to rip up the page and just threw it on his unconscious body, making her way into the kitchen to grab a drink as she waited. What a spectacular break up.

-

“I am so sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it,” Forrest said, giving his most understanding smile.

The last way he’d expected this night to go was them stopping mid-make-out to listen to some poetry written about Alex from his ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend that ended in them both getting dressed to go pick up that ex-boyfriend. However, it was common knowledge that he was down for whatever when it came to Alex Manes, so here he was.

“I-I don’t even really understand, but I don’t want to leave him there when Maria is only going to get more pissed,” Alex explained, still flustered since he’d been the moment he started hearing the poem. It felt like the beginning of the end for them, but Forrest was pretty damn determined to hold on.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. You care about him,” Forrest said. Alex waited for a few minutes before he nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Forrest insisted, “He’s your first love. I understand.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” Alex insisted, putting the car in park outside of Maria’s apartment complex. Forrest shrugged and gave a warm smile, his sympathetic ways earning him a kiss on the lips. “This is going to be so fucking weird.”

“I’m gonna be right by your side.”

“Thank you.”

With a heavy sigh, they both started heading towards the door. Forrest was preparing himself for anything under the sun because for all he knew, Maria would fly into a jealous rage or Michael would do something like try to kiss Alex right there or Alex would break up with him the moment they walked in. Anything could happen.

Alex knocked on the door and it opened before he could finish, Maria glaring at him like he was the one who’d fucked up.

“You actually came,” she laughed, shaking her head, “And you brought your boyfriend. Welcome to the shit show, Forrest, we’re all dumbasses around here.”

“Let me get him out of your hair and then you can talk to him when he’s sober, maybe,” Alex suggested. Forrest thought about laughing. It was sort of embarrassing that Alex hadn’t seen him in days and he still knew he wasn’t sober. Why else would he have written that stupid poem?

“By all means,” Maria laughed, throwing the door open. Michael was asleep on the floor in front of the couch with a piece of paper over his face. Alex sighed softly. “Don’t forget your little poem.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that, Maria. I’m sorry you’re upset, but it’s not my fault,” Alex said and Forrest smiled. It was nice to see him stand up for himself. He didn’t do that enough.

Maria rubbed her hand over her face.

“Yeah, I know it’s not,” she said, “But I feel like neither of you are ballsy enough to just put an end to it. Why the hell else would he still be pining for ten years?”

“Well, eleven now,” Alex corrected. Forrest folded in his lips in amusement. “And I have tried. Doesn’t mean he listens.”

“Just get him out of my house.”

It took a little effort, but Alex and Forrest managed to pull Michael off the ground. He woke up a little bit, but he was clearly too fucked up to actually be coherent. Forrest pretended not to notice that Alex pocketed the poem.

“Alex,” Michael hummed through his drunken state, nuzzling his nose against his shoulder. Alex didn’t react as they slowly started dragging him out to the car. “Where’d you come from?”

“You’ve been a real piece of shit, Guerin,” Alex told him, “You can’t just write really obvious poems about me and leave them out for your girlfriend to find.”

“Whoops.”

“Yeah, whoops.”

They put him into the backseat of Alex’s car without much of hesitation and then climbed into the front seat. Alex easily grabbed Forrest’s hand as he started driving. That felt like enough confirmation that he was at least allowed this for a minute longer.

“So,” Forrest said, giving his hand a soft squeeze, “How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“Your first love still loves you and wants you back. Where does that put you?” Forrest wondered. Alex breathed in the slowest breath and let it out just a slow. 

“He’s in no shape for me to have an opinion.”

“Okay, but you still have one,” Forrest pressed, “Just tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.” Alex waited a few more seconds and squeezed his hand a couple times as he thought about it.

“I... I love him,” Alex admit it, “It’s stupid and I don’t want to, but I do. But I like you and I like being with you and I’m happier with you than I ever was with him, so I shouldn’t want him.”

“But you do,” Forrest filled in. Alex didn’t confirm or deny. “You’re allowed to.”

“Stop just being nice to me for no reason.”

Forrest laughed, “It’s not for no reason. If my first love did that for me, I’d probably be right back on my bullshit. Besides, I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I could tell from a mile away that you two are like magnets.” Alex’s shoulders slumped.

“Then why even bother with me?”

Forrest pulled his hand to his lips, kissing it softly. 

“I’m a firm believer in living in the moment. Just because you’re not my forever, doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it lasts. I know I could be happy knowing I made a good impact on someone like you if only for a minute,” Forrest explained. Alex groaned loudly as he leaned back into his seat, slowing the truck to a stopping point outside of his house.

“You’re too good for me.”

“Nah, I think we’re on the same page,” Forrest insisted. Alex looked over at him, clearly torn. “You want me to go home? Or do you wanna dump him on the couch and pick up where we left off? I’m down for whatever.”

Forrest wasn’t surprised when he chose something in the middle: sleeping in his bed, but in a very PG manner.

-

“What the fuck?”

“Morning, Sunshine.”

Michael struggled as he picked up his heavy head. He looked around to orient himself only to be further confused when he realized he was in Alex’s living room with Alex himself standing over him. He slowly sat up and Alex held out a cup of coffee.

“What the fuck happened last night?” he asked as he accepted it.

“Well, let’s talk about that,” Alex said, walking around to the chair so that there was a nice space between them. Michael rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Maria kicked you out of her house after discovering your poem declaring your undying love for me.”

Michael froze, looking up at him over the rim of the coffee cup. Fuck.

“I-I didn’t mean that,” he said, but immediately shook his head, “Okay, I meant it, but I didn’t mean for anyone to find it. Max told me to write out my feelings and I did, but I was going to keep it to myself because I don’t wanna fuck up what you have with Forrest. You’re, you’re all happy now and I want you to be happy. I’m so sorry if I fucked that up, Alex, I swear to God, I will give Forrest my blessing or whatever. I don’t want to mess with your life anymore.”

Alex smiled at him, nodding slightly before he took another sip. It was weirdly ominous and Michael just had to wait. Michael learned pretty young that embarrassment got you no where. He chose to be brash and he chose to own every goddamn choice he made. But right now, for the first time, he was embarrassed.

“Alex, I swear–“

“You love me,” Alex hummed, the statement bold and strong. Michael licked his lips and nodded. “You love me so much you wrote a poem about it. That’s Max levels of cheese and you just... You just did it.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said even though he still couldn’t get a read on Alex’s actual feelings, “I hope I didn’t mess anything up between you and Forrest.”

“You didn’t,” Alex promised, “He’s understanding.”

“Is that code for he’s gonna try to beat me up and I’m just gonna have to take it?” Michael asked. Alex smiled big and genuine.

“No,” he said, “We talked a lot and I slept on everything and we came to the conclusion that we’ll take a step back.” 

Michael blinked slowly. “Meaning...?”

“Meaning I read that poem about thirty times and I suddenly realized that you actually do have a capable bone in your body,” he said, still smiling, “Let’s say we’re even. I hurt you, you hurt me, we’ve both fucked up, let’s not look into it. New slate. New Alex, new Michael.”

Michael felt more confused than he had been in awhile, but he was too eager to know what that meant. It felt like a good thing if Alex’s smile said anything.

“We’re gonna be casual,” Alex stated, “Me and Forrest will date casually and you can try your hand and I’ll make my choice when the time comes.” Michael felt dizzy.

“Y-you mean... You mean I have a chance?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, shrugging, “And I’ll even be nice and give you a head’s up. New Alex doesn’t put up with guys who don’t have their life together. So, you know, have fun with that.”

Slowly, a smile broke out on Michael’s face and he lowered the mug.

“So you want me to prove myself?”

“Yep,” Alex said, leaning back comfortably, “And I expect it to be long term too. I don’t wanna be with someone who doesn’t at least try to get their shit together and put in effort to be a good person. I want to be wooed.”

Michael nodded easily.

“You already know I can woo you.”

“Mm,” Alex hummed, shrugging, “I think my standards are a bit higher now, so you might have to step up your game.”

“I’ll do it.”

“We’ll see.”

Alex pushed himself up to his feet, giving him such a distinct look of intrigue that Michael felt like his skin was on fire. 

“I have to go to work. You know, like an adult,” Alex said, smirking slightly through the dig to make it hit less. And it did. Hell, even if it hadn’t, Michael was riding a high he hadn’t felt in awhile. Alex disappeared down the hall towards his bedroom.

Who the hell could’ve predicted that Max of all people could be right?

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #anti maria deluca #just to be safe

[destinationweddinganovel]

Victory

MARISSA

I stare blankly at the presentation open on my computer screen. Even after two long espressos, my head feels as foggy as the North Atlantic in January. Alex and I stayed up late not exactly arguing, but the tension has grown between us. He’s working longer hours, claiming this is their busiest time of year. I damned well know he and Bridget nearly went off together. All week I’ve been suffering PMS and it seems nothing will get me out of this rotten mood. Needing a major chocolate fix, I grab my purse and head out. No line at the coffee shop, but there never is unless I need something.

I push through the glass revolving door and head along the riverfront trail. Nothing can shake the sensation Christine is skulking behind me, plotting. Every thin, bug-eyed blonde I pass makes my heart leap out of my chest. In this section of the park, all fresh-cut grass and bicycle trails, I can see anyone approaching. I pass an ice-cream vendor and the words double-fudge swirl cast its spell on me. I’ve just finished unwrapping the package when fingers like grappling hooks dig into my arm.

“Bridget just came out of the hospital and I know you put her in there.” Her voice is volatile, primed to explode. It takes all my inner strength not to spit my mouthful of ice cream in her face. Lucky for her, I don’t believe in wasting perfectly good food. It’s then that I notice her giant purse is unzipped.

“You saw her flirting with him. Did you know he was underage when he first slept with her?”

“So?” I play casual while I slip the security card out of the pocket in my purse. “She’s hot.”

Her jaw drops. Holding the card by the edges, I just need to distract her for a few more seconds.

“He had an affair with her all through high school and they even did it while her husband watched.”

“Yeah, right!” I laugh as mockingly as I can. Pretending to lose my balance, I drop the card into her purse. She doesn’t notice. “When you lie, try to come up with something remotely believable.”

“Oh, like how you and your friend tried to kill Kayla, the wife of your ex-boyfriend? She knows you were behind it. I’ll prove you were behind Bridget too. You can’t hide your dark past forever.”

“Get the hell away from me, you crazy stalker!” I free my arm with a violent jerk and continue along the path, heading for wherever looks most populated. The gates by the fountain. I don’t dare check over my shoulder. I want to be near a cop, a security guard, or even a parking meter attendant, but all I can see are mothers with toddlers, elderly couples, or clusters of pre-teen girls.

I drop the empty package into a garbage can and wheel around; Christine almost crashes straight into me. “If you ever even think of trying to pin this on me when you’re the one who—”

“Quit following me you goddamn lunatic—leave me alone!” With that, I hurry out onto the street, dodging honking cars and cursing cyclists, only slowing when I reach the far side.

Christine stands by the park entrance, staring, with her mouth agape in shock. Good. I make a slashing gesture across my throat, turn, and stride up the block. Maybe she’ll finally realize that Marissa McLaghty isn’t someone you mess with. Folding my arms across my chest, I storm up the sidewalk toward Alex’s condo building. Ouch, my breasts are horribly tender again. I slow my pace. I never used to get sore breasts until I became … As if fate herself is directing me, I stare up at the sign for CVS pharmacy and slip inside.

#suspense novel #fiction #Destination Wedding #destinationwedding #weddings #crazy ex #psycho ex #stalking #cyberstalking #unreliable narrator #Multiple POV #revenge #dark secrets #dark past #love triangle #stalker #scheming #novel #women's fiction #books #writing

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 1: Fog of War

Chapter summary: When the transported gas is stolen by insurgents, codename “Saint” is sent to assist Alex. (2325 words)

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, mild torture. 

24 OCTOBER 2019. 0630 "Alex" CIA with Marine Raiders Verdansk, Kastovia

Pain.

That was the first thing Alex registered. The throbbing pain held his body paralysed with every breath he drew. Black started to seep in the corner of his eyes, he clamped down on his teeth, struggling to stay conscious.

A god damn RPG. He'd be lucky if he didn't break anything.

The ringing in his ears smothered the pulses of enemy fire over his head. He watched helplessly on the ground as more enemy trucks infiltrated the compound.

"Watcher to 3-1. How copy?! Alex, do you read- over!"

Hitman 7-5 ran over and grasped his hand, intending to get him to safety while 7-4 provided them with cover. "I got you- I got you, 3-1!"

Alex felt himself being dragged away from his burning armoured truck, only strong enough to watch his legs dig in the gravel. In a blink, a bullet lodged itself in 7-1 and his supporter collapsed onto the ground.

God damn.

Badly wounded, 7-1 struggled to get up. "Who the fuck is this!"

Behind him, a masked insurgent walked from the gas truck and fired, killing Hitman 7-1. Alex only felt 7-1's blood splatter across his bare arm.

The insurgent kicked 7-1's body, confirming the kill. Alex cursed through gritted teeth, his gas mask muffling the angry curse words. The insurgent paid no mind, briefly inspected the dead corpse, eyes wide when the Marines uniform came into view. Panicking, he quickly called for his leader.

The insurgents took the truck filled with chemical weapons and boarded it. "Move out- Go, go, go!" The truck drove away with the chemical weapons.

Bilingual... decent English skills.

Alex ripped off his gas mask, breathing heavily from his wounds. They were so close. "Shit."

The CIA agent swept around, he was the only survivor from the attack. "Echo 3-1 to Watcher."

"Alex! What happened?"

"Terrorist attack- Multiple Marines KIA- Gas stolen- We need EVAC, now!"

"Roger– Tracking multiple Russian forces headed your way. Sit tight. We're pushing to you for fast exfil. Watcher out."

He was in no shape to fight properly, but if he stayed on the ground, he's dead meat. Groaning, he pushed himself off the ground with every ounce of strength left in his systems, wincing.

"3-1 be advised, Hammer 2-1 is circling back to you for exfil. ETA 10 mikes."

Busy putting pressure on his wounds, Alex blindly sprayed his M4A1, getting a few good kills. "Roger that."

"Command is sending Saint, she will meet you back at base for debrief."

"Shouldn't she be in Paris?"

"She's redesignated. Command wants the Aces on this. Watcher out."

Alex sighed, feeling irritated for her. The assignment in Paris was personal to her, and knowing her, Alex could count on one hand how many things could affect her like that. But that's how it is in the agency, you never get to choose.

━━━━ SAME DAY. 0600. CIA with Rangers Unknown CIA Site, "Hostel", Paris

Leaning against the cold concrete wall, she crossed her arm and drummed her fingers in equal parts anticipation and boredom. Her dark hazel eyes were solely glued onto the restrained target sitting in the centre of the room. After three gruelling months, she finally caught him.

Fedir Boucher, a dirty bomb maker.

The CIA agent nonchalantly popped a piece of mint in her mouth as Ruddiger delivered another punch to Boucher's face, another spray of blood dribbling messily.

She crouched, levelling with Boucher. "Give me a name, Fedir, and I'll make it stop."

"Go... to hell," Boucher meekly lets out, a bloodied grin on display. "боягуз (Coward). A weak girl like you couldn't even hurt me if you tried."

Smirking, she dusted her hands and threw a cloth to Ruddiger to clean the blood off his knuckles. Meanwhile, the agent started to strip off her weapons. "Your lucky day."

She took her sweet time detaching the rest of her gear, leaving her weaponless. Her best way of working. "My friend here from the Army, he has protocols to follow so we avoid any international incidents. But I'm... different. I have no rules. I actually don't exist."

In a flash, she swivelled and snapped Boucher's right wrist into half. The screams that followed were raw, each one piercing to their ears.

"If there's anything you're holding back... Now would be a good time to confess." Her voice was calm and accentuated. She wasn't fucking around and this should make Boucher well aware of that.

"You- You need me alive! I am no use to you dead!"

Or maybe he doesn't. She mentally sighed, reaching for her revolver laid on the table.

She loaded a single round in her revolver and spun the cylinder. "You're useless if you don't give me a name in the next 10 seconds."

The agent only held a cold expression on her face. "I know all about the games you play with your victims, tricking vulnerable women and children." She took aim between his eyes, eyes cold.

"What you are doing is illegal!" Boucher hissed, heavily breathing.

She huffed, that's rich.

Ruddiger stared at the scene, eyes slightly widening. He was surprised that this line of interrogation came quicker than expected. Just as the CIA agent placed the muzzle against Boucher's head, he interrupted. "Agent."

Pausing, she lowered the revolver. Eyes still trained on her target, she spoke in a solemn tone, "You should leave the room now."

The absence of a metal door closing made her avert her gaze in surprise. Ruddiger stood rooted in the same spot, hands crossed authoritatively, "Sergeant, if you choose to stay here, whatever happens next must be excluded from your debrief. Can you do that?"

"No, ma'am. I took an oath, I cannot break it."

"Can you take one then?" She watched as his eyes flickered to the HVT on the chair, a cold-blooded killer who denotes bombs for his sole entertainment and now, whoring out for profits.

A decisive nod from Ruddiger sealed the deal. "Let's end this."

"Roger that", she took the lead and slammed the armed revolver against Boucher's temple. Fat beads of perspiration rolled down his temples.

Click, the sound echoed throughout the tiny interrogation room. Boucher squeezed his eyes shut, a shaky breath escaped.

"A name."

Boucher shook his head violently, "I don't know anything!"

Stressing her brows in annoyance, she pulled the trigger again. Click. "You're a very lucky man, Boucher. Statistically, you have a 66.7% chance of living. Are you game?"

She eyed the man, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, all signs pointing that he was about to break, "I never made contact with Valhalla!"

Sneering, she tightened a hand around his neck. "Lies! How did Valhalla get the package then?"

"I left it beside a poubelle at Bois de Boulogne! I never saw Valhalla or any of his men! I swear- I swear!" Satisfied with the steel proof sound of conviction in his voice, she forcefully released his face. Glaring, the agent shifted the revolver an inch shy of his right ear and fired twice.

Boucher flinched with every echo. Staring him dead in his eyes, she raised the barrel one last time, expressionless.

Her eyes flickered to Ruddiger, who didn't look bothered by her actions. She fired one last shot, this time, a loud bang escaped from the revolver.

Boucher fell sideways with the chair, thrashing. The absence of blood pooling around his body, or the fact that he remained alive startled the man. He groggily peeled his eyes open, the blinding white light left the woman standing over him to his imaginations.

"I..." He echoed incoherently about the afterworld.

She reached down to him, grabbing his chin. "Blanks. You're not dead, Boucher, fat wish. You're going to rot in a cell for the rest of your god damn life." Her revolver tumbled right beside his face, making him recoil, "But this? Consider this a fraction of the payback for the women and children who died in your hands."

The CIA agent exited the room with Ruddiger. They were met with two other Rangers standing guard at the door. "Did he break?"

"They always do." She smiled, "Said he dropped off the package for Valhalla beside a bin in Bois de Boulogne."

Blaze 0-3 nodded, "I'll call it in."

"I'll do it, I have something else to report. For goodness sake, go get some shut eye. I'll get some trustworthy agents to stand guard." The group grinned at her.

She tapped her wristwatch communicator, "Saint to Actual, Valhalla picked up his package in Bois de Boulogne. We're pulling up street cams for verification, over."

"Copy that, Saint, job well done. I've just received word that your Command has reassigned you. You are to leave immediately for Urzikstan."

"Sir? I retrieved the intel, I can catch Valhalla." She gritted her teeth, careful with her words.

"There's no doubt you will, Saint. This order came from Langley, my hands are tied. You are heading to Urzikstan, agent."

The CIA agent released her tightened fist. She should be used to this at this point, but this assignment... She wanted- needed to see this through. The group of Rangers passed her a solemn look, hearing it through the comms. "What about this mission, sir?"

"The CIA will assign another agent." She pinched her nose bridge and took a deep, controlled breath.

"Request permission to appoint handover, sir."

"Let's hear it, Saint."

Her hazel eyes went in search for Ruddiger, immediately spotting the 6"2 Marine. "Sergeant Ruddiger should takeover, he has been vital in this op."

A deep sigh came from the receiving end, "Copy that. I'll relay it as if it were my own, Saint. Whiskey 5 is en route to Hostel, get ready for egress. Charlie out."

She exhaled deeply, appreciating the Colonel's kindness. It made her reminisce about her times in the Army.

Urzikstan. That was Alex's assignment. She was hardly assigned to missions in such a hostile environment, it was Alex's speciality. They must really need her on this.

Ruddiger approached her, his tall figure towering over her 5"7 one. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

She scoffed, fidgeting with her fingers. "Nah. A new agent would take days to acclimate, that's precious time we can't lose. Plus, you've got heart, no better reason than why I recommended you. For what's worth."

Ruddiger noticed the way her last sentence lightly trailed off but didn't press on it. It wasn't his first day here, agents like her don't exactly have a choice. "I'm sorry about this."

"Me too." She mumbled softly, aimlessly fidgeting with her gear. "Just catch Valhalla. You'll be doing us all a favour, 5-1."

"Oorah." He passed a sincere smile.

"It was nice working with you for the past three months, Ruddiger. Appreciate it for... back there." She nodded towards the interrogation room. "I'll be sure to write up an excellent debrief for ya."

Ruddiger casually shook his head, smiling, "Just doing what I gotta do, Saint. But I gotta say, that name suits you well... Ma'am."

He mentally cursed, worried that he was trespassing. Some call signs were extremely sensitive. And based on what he has heard, so was hers. But could you blame him? He was still a little high off the adrenaline from the interrogation. Plus, a part of him would be lying if he wasn't curious though.

The agent merely cocked an eyebrow, interested. Standing before her, he was obviously nervous but didn't reveal much.

Huh, she noted, he'd make a good agent if he wanted to.

"What have I told you, screw the formalities." She said honestly, waving it off and Ruddiger visibly relaxed. "Go on."

Ruddiger scratched at the nape of his neck absentmindedly, sort of a sheepish look on his face. "Well, by the time you were done with Boucher, he was yelling something about saviours when we left the room. He must have thought you were there to save him.."

"Est mon sauveur. My saviour."

"Fitting." He hummed.

The agent only gave a smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes, "Unfortunately."

━━━━ 24 OCTOBER 2019, 1500 CIA BASE, Urzikstan.

The CIA agent stepped off the jet, hands holding her go-bag. First thing she noticed? The atrocious weather.

Dressed in simple jeans and a loose black tee, her chestnut brown hair was neatly tied in a bun. Yet, she could already feel the stickiness on her body. Fun, she couldn't wait to be in full gear.

Amidst the blazing sun, Kate Laswell stood a few feet away from the landing strip, waiting for her. The agent took off her sunglasses and passed a knowing smile to Laswell.

"Station chief Laswell, it's good to see you again." the agent greeted with a professional smile, walking alongside Laswell.

"Wish it were under better circumstances, Saint."

She glanced around the base, noticing several tinted tentages everywhere. "When is it ever? I read the brief on my way over. To say we've got a big problem is understating it."

"Still not a sleeper, I see?"

She grinned, shutting the door behind her. "I never do on jets, Kate, you know me."

"It's military grade, Saint. It never crashes."

"I beg to differ." She grimaced, a distant reminder that made her skin crawl. "Anyhow. Where's Alex? Didn't the bastard know I was coming? I was half expecting a confetti ceremony the moment I stepped off the heli."

"I sure hope you weren't referring to me. Cause I got you something better." The door swung open and Alex came into view, his middle finger teasingly on display. Upon seeing Laswell, the other CIA agent swiftly retracted it, cleared his throat and pretended nothing happened.

She passed a rueful grin at Alex, rolling her eyes at his idiocy.

Alex was all smiles, spreading his arms wide. He sure was not holding back how happy he was to see his best friend.

"Alexis."

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. masterlist here. want to be tagged? let me know!

#call of duty x oc #call of duty x reader #alex modern warfare #john price #kyle garrick #kate laswell #farah karim #hadir karim #oc: alexis #ysr writes: kl #killer instinct #fanfiction #alex cod #modern warfare

[melissatreglia]

Colder than Winter (Part 1)

(This was originally an RP that was between @southerndragontamer​, myself and antisilverstorm starting on this day back in 2017. 

It features Dark and Grace’s first official date at His home, and her first time meeting His kids. Of course, me being me, it couldn’t just be that simple an outing. And not when you’re in the Shadow Realm, and among demons and other Lovecraftian beasties.

Here, I’ve edited the first half of that old RP session into fic format. The second part will, hopefully, be ready tomorrow. Happy Holidays, everyone!)

Dark and His daughter Meg stood, broad shoulder to much smaller one, before the gateway that lead to the Shadow Realm. He looked quite the dandy in what was probably brand spankin’ new Armani. Meg didn’t look too shabby herself, although she obviously had a preference for leather, lace and Levis.

“Pity you could not join us for the evening’s festivities,” Dark said to me, His tone cordial.

Okay, I’m pretty sure He’s mocking me.

I grimaced, but I didn’t flinch away from His probing gaze. “I’ve experienced Your idea of hospitality, so I think I’ll pass this time around.”

“Oh come now,” He replied. “It wasn’t all unpleasant.”

I can’t fight back the urge to snark at Him. “Oh yeah, I had a blast… up until the torture.”

“Oh, come on,” Meg sneered. “Who doesn’t like it a little rough?”

“Now, now, Meg,” Dark gently reprimanded her. “Let’s not be unkind to the mortals. This is a time of peace and generosity, after all.”

Meg mumbled an apology.

“But your little sessions with Miss Melissa is why we’re staying here,” Ulysses added, from his spot beside me. He was the one demon who I’d grown to trust with my life over the last two months. He saved me from Dark’s latest machinations at great personal risk, after all.

“And to make sure they come back home in one piece, and in a reasonable timeframe,” I put in. “She may trust You… but the rest of us definitely don’t.” Both sides of this four-way tête-à-tête silently glared at each other until we all heard the sound of footsteps approach.

It was Grace, a quiet hum in her throat as she walked to this prearranged meeting spot, where the gateway had been created.

Her friend Alex trailed in her wake, looking decidedly unhappy to be there, but also determined. I, for one, couldn’t blame them.

Their boots crunched against the new-fallen snow, and Grace’s little silver bell earrings jingled softly. The bag in her hand swayed gently with each step, and she called to all of us, “Merry Christmas!”

When she reached us, she set the bag down and lifted an obsidian-hued box from it. She handed it over to Dark. “These are for you, Sir. Dark chocolate fudge brownies.”

Dark smiled at the package Grace handed Him, but not before he dropped a light kiss on her forehead. “You do know I how I love chocolate, My dearest Grace.”

It’s a Herculean effort not to roll my eyes at His sweet talk. But Grace blushed at the gesture of affection.

“But if you would be so kind as to hold onto it for Me during our travel, I would appreciate it very much.”

“Of course, Sir, I don’t mind.” Grace carefully slid the box back into the bag, then pulled a second one out, this one in black and red with a faint lipstick pattern. She smiled at Meg. “Hello, Meg, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Grace, and I hope you like this.” She handed her the box. “It’s strawberry shortcake. I made it just for you.”

Meg looked down at her own gift and, for a brief moment, seemed completely innocent and unlike the demon she actually was. “Awesome! Thanks!” Surprising almost everyone, she gave Grace a quick hug in gratitude.

Grace blinked, stunned by the quick and definitely unexpected embrace from the young demoness, then grinned at Meg’s excitement for the gift. Alex, however, was decidedly uncomfortable with the displays of affection and took a warning step closer to the two.

Grace then took up the bag again. “There’s another one in here for Anti,” she said. Then she added, “Dark, Sir, I hope it’s alright that a friend of mine wanted to come along.” She gestured to Alex. “Everyone, this is Alex, and they volunteered to be my bodyguard for today. Alex, this is Dark, Meg, Ulysses and Melissa.” She bit her lip then, clearly nervous.

They inclined their head minutely towards Dark and his adopted daughter, in a semi-bow. “Sir. Alex Griffith, concerned friend, bodyguard and…” -- their eyes flicked over to Grace and a hint of a smile quirked at one corner of their mouth -- “expert gardener.”

The smile was more genuine when they turned to myself and Ulysses. “Miss Melissa, Ulysses, it’s good to see you as well.”

“Good to see you, Alex,” I replied and Ulysses politely nodded.

“It is very wise to accompany her this evening, for her protection. There are others in the Shadow Realm who are not as charming as Myself,” Dark said.

“Ya think?” I added sourly. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Grace’s little shiver; no doubt there were vision of Lovecraftian horrors dancing in her head. Dark, of course, ignored me completely.

“At any rate, we had best be on our way.” He offered His hand to Grace. “Shall we, My dear?”

Grace renewed her grip on the bag, and took His hand with her free one. “We shall, Sir.”

Alex’s gaze flicked over to me, and I nodded. Between the three of us, Grace was in good hands. Alex would be there to accompany her, and Ulysses and I would be the cavalry… just in case anything goes sideways.

I don’t want to ever have to go back there. But I will, for a friend.

Dark’s grasp on Grace’s hand was gentle but unwavering as they stepped through the mystically-powered gateway. Meg dawdled momentarily, her grip on Alex’s arm less than delicate. It’s both to steady the human during their travel, and a show of the strength lying beneath the demoness’s fairly unassuming form.

Alex bit back a groan as Meg’s overly tight grip ground the knife concealed in their sleeve into their arm. So much for the element of surprise, they thought bitterly. Then again, what chance did mere mortals ever have of surprising them?

Meg’s voice was a low hiss meant for Alex’s ears alone. “Daddy may be okay with you being her personal security, but I’m not. You’ll be on our turf. So don’t try anything stupid.” She then smiled, and added in a too-cheery tone, “Okay?”

Alex stayed silent, refusing to respond to the demoness beyond the slight curl of the lip. They were here to observe and act, if necessary, not speak… Even if there were a few choice words they’d very much like to call Dark’s adopted daughter.

They sent out a half formed prayer to a deity they hardly believed in any more, as Meg pulled Alex with her into the yawning portal.

There’s a sensation that felt like falling upward. For a moment all equilibrium was thrown, up felt like down and down was up. Vertigo hit hard. Grace clenched her eyes shut, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat.

Then it surrounded them. An endless, silent, pitch black.

They can all see each other clearly. But that’s because they’re the only things to see.

“Welcome to the Shadow Realm,” Dark announced for the benefit of the humans accompanying Himself and Meg. He gave wistful sigh, adding dryly, “My home away from home.”

“Thank You for bringing us, Dark, Meg.” Grace looked around curiously for signs of a certain glitch. “Is Anti around Sir? I’d like to hand him his gift, and here’s yours back Dark.” She set the bag back down, glad it survived the trip, and handed the obsidian box back to Him.

Dark accepted the gift with a smile. “Anti is waiting at My home. It is a small distance away from here.”

“Casa de Dark is pretty much the only landmark you’ll see around here for miles,” Meg added, letting go of Alex’s arm. “We don’t get many tourists around here.”

Grace picked the bag back up. Wonder how Anti’s doing after making everyone lose their minds and wrecking sleep schedules with the Overnight Watch? she mused to herself. “I imagine not, Meg. Melissa said this isn’t an easy place to get to, with or without help from someone like Dark.”

Grace hesitated for only a brief moment before taking Dark’s hand again. “Shall we?”

“We shall, My dear.”

With that, He lead the odd little group forward, one hand still held onto Grace’s and the other bearing the gift box.

A distant rumble could be heard, but Dark and Meg both ignored it. Grace tilted her head, more curious than startled. It was similar in a way to thunder... but somehow different at the same time. She almost wanted to ask Dark about it’s source, but scolded herself. Don’t, Grace! Curiosity killed the cat remember? The stories of Lovecraft tended to warn against that sort of thing… rather painfully so.

Alex meanwhile was looking around, searching for the source of the sound. Potential insanity be damned, they wanted to know what’s out there. But whatever’s out there stayed out of their field of view. It’s certainly for the best, but they couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

Alex also had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t going to be their only visit to the Shadow Realm, and next time might not be quite as smooth sailing. Best to be prepared, in any case. After all, that was why they’re here.

It became quiet again as they traversed the empty expanse. The sound of the quartet’s footsteps echoed in the stillness.

There’s no way of knowing how long the walk was. Time seemed to flow differently here… or perhaps not at all.

A grand Tudor-style home was suddenly visible in the empty black, its windows seeming to provide a warm light amidst this sterile nothingness. The house was strangely beautiful, the set of a period drama floating in a sea of nothing.

“And here we are.”

“Home sweet home.”

Grace’s eyes widened at the beautiful home in front of her. It's more like a manor, she mused.

There’s the sound of scrambling footsteps behind the door, and some minor imp threw the door open for them.

Dark walked in, barely acknowledging the elf-like creature’s presence. Grace, however, gave the minor demon a grateful look as she passed by, as she was used to acknowledging the oft-thankless work people in various services often did.

There’s the sound of heavier footsteps than the imp’s, and a giggle echoed through the foyer where they all now stood. “L̷o̸o̶k̷ ̷w̷h̶o̷’̷s̷ ̵b̸a̶c̶k̸!̴” Anti called with a wide grin, popping in and out of existence around them, like bad reception on an old television set.

“I’m pleasantly surprised you didn’t manage to burn the house down in My absence.”

Anti’s eyes widened. “T̴h̵a̶t̸ ̷w̴a̷s̶ ̷a̶n̸ ̷o̵p̶t̶i̸o̸n̶?̴”

“No.” Dark sighed, a sound that could only come from an exasperated parent. “At any rate, these are our guests: Grace and her travel companion, Alex.”

Grace grinned at the glitch, his movements causing her to adjust her glasses in an attempt to see better. “Hi, Anti. As Dark said, I’m Grace and the shadow behind me is Alex.  It’s nice to meet you.” She set down her bag and took out the last of the three boxes, this one a black and green one with a glitchy, Matrix-like pattern.

“Merry Christmas, by the way. I hope you like the Yorkshire Pudding. I didn’t know which you preferred, so I made a few of both savory and sweet.” She handed the box to him, then picked up the now-empty bag, rolling it up and sliding it into her pocket.

“Y̵e̸s̴!̴“ Anti grabbed the offered gift and tore it open with gusto, immediately stuffed a piece of the Yorkshire pudding into his mouth. “I̵s̴ ̵g̶o̷o̸d̶!̷“ he mumbled around the mouthful of food. After swallowing, he added, “I̶ ̷l̷i̴k̶e̶ ̸h̴e̶r̶.̶ ̸C̵a̴n̷ ̴w̵e̷ ̸k̵e̵e̷p̴ ̶h̷e̵r̶,̵ ̶P̶o̵p̵s̵?̵“

“That is her choice.”

“You’re a pig,” Meg said to Anti with a snort, before she sashayed off into another room with her own edible gift.

Dark leaned over and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper in Grace’s ear, pulling the echo back momentarily so His voice wouldn’t carry. She jumped slightly, shuddering as His breath washed over her ear and neck, that uniquely deep voice so close.

“You’d think they’d been raised by wolves.” He smirked at her, before straightening up. Grace giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

“Now, I hope you are all hungry. Dinner will be served very soon.”

“You’re not trying to pull a Hades and Persephone situation on Alex and I, are You, Sir?” She smiled, removing the possible sting from her comment. “Actually, yes, I’m starving. Guess we were walking for longer than I thought.”

Alex sucked in a breath through their teeth at that teasing comment, stomach already in knots at the whole damned thing.

Dark gave a quiet chuckle as He led them into the lavish dining room, candelabras dotted the room, giving it an intimate atmosphere. The table already set for five people with beautiful china, silverware and crystalline goblets.

“It is a common misconception that Lord Hades abducted the young, beautiful Persephone,” He began. “Hades was the kindly sort, one of the few among the Hellenic gods who rarely meddled in human affairs.”

He pulled out a chair at the right-hand side of the table’s head, and silently welcomed Grace to sit. She sat lightly, a bit stunned as she remembered the significance of this position at the table. Ooh boy, I’m really in the deep end.

“The young lady wanted to explore his world, as it was so very different from her own. She found beauty in the secretive darkness there, and she became his light. In the end, she elected to stay with him, becoming his queen.”

He seated himself comfortably in the more ornate chair at the head of the table.

“You see, the sweet Persephone had fallen in love with the Lord of the Underworld, and he with her. And because he loved her, he would not and could not force her to stay.”

A demon servant began to pour them all drinks, and another set down a platter of finger foods in the center of them all – an aperitif to the coming entrée. Grace nodded in thanks at the two servants.

Dark smiled at Grace, with a sly little wink. “And you need not concern yourself, My dearest. Neither the food nor the china are enchanted.”

Grace blushed at the wink Dark sent her way and grinned, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear. “Thank You, Dark. Their myth has always been my favorite. To my knowledge, Hades and Persephone were the only ones to actually make their long distance relationship really work. They care about and love each other, and they were the only ones not to cheat on each other. They stayed loyal to one another. Then again I haven’t brushed up on the myths in a while so I could be wrong.”

She then shrugged, picking up a small sandwich and nibbling at it. Hmm, cucumber, nice. She thought and, when taking one of the non-alcoholic drinks, she was delighted to discover it was apple cider.

Alex just nibbled on their food, not paying attention to what they were eating and only enough to be polite. They did not touch the drinks, however.

Dark, being focused on Grace, wasn’t actually paying attention to Alex’s behaviour. Oh, He was aware of their continued presence but was not terribly concerned, secure in His knowledge of His own power and what He wanted.

And what He wanted right now was seated to His immediate right.

Not that He had to worry about anything, anyway. Meg and Anti, His darling (and marginally homicidal) children, came back from wherever they had wandered deeper into the house. They took their preferred seats at the left-hand side of the table, mildly bickering over who got to sample the finger foods first.

She blushed deeply as she saw Dark watching her. Those eyes of His should be illegal... Actually, they probably are. When Meg and Anti came in and started bickering over the food, she giggled. “You two are a bit late to get first dibs, I did that before y'all got here.” She then winked playfully at the two young demons.

The main course arrived, a ham basted and cooked till it practically shone from the savory and sweet oils. Candied yams, string beans and jellied cranberry sauce follow in its wake, the servants helpfully serving it all to the family and their human guests.

“I thought you might prefer a traditional dinner this evening,” Dark said to Grace. “If there is anything more you desire, I will have someone fetch it for you.”

Grace smiled at Dark and shook her head. “Thank You, but no. This is plenty for a meal. I can’t think of anything to add. It all smells so delicious.”

Again, she gave the serving demons nods of thanks out of habit before starting to eat.

A soft moan of delight slipped free, as the flavors of the food danced over her tongue. The ham was savory and sweet like the oils it was cooked in. There was a little touch of spice to it, making a pleasant tingle on her tongue. The yams were sweet but not cloying with cinnamon, nutmeg, clove and a small bit of sugar to enhance their natural sweetness. The string beans were crisp and fresh and the cranberry sauce was tart and refreshing, cleansing her pallet between bites.

Grace blushed, realizing the sound she’d let slip as she enjoyed the food. “It's all very good, Dark. My compliments.”

“You are quite welcome, My dear. Even though it serves no nutritional purpose for Me, I still find eating human food to be rather enjoyable.”

He took a sip from His wine goblet, adding with a smirk, “Then again, there’s a number of human activities that are quite pleasurable.”

Grace almost choked on the cider as she processed his comment, her mind going straight to the gutter. Oh God, I knew I’d end up with a permanent blush! And His smirk does not help.

Surreptitiously, Alex pushed the inside of their right arm against the edge of the table, just to remind themselves of the knife still tucked up their sleeve. Let the bastard try even one thing she’s not comfortable with, they thought. I’ll make him bleed.

The dinner proceeded quietly, with most of those assembled at the table giving the occasional happy murmur at the tastes of the feast laid before them. Grace smiled softly at the picture the three made. They’re a good family. I mean, yeah, they’re demons but still. Family is family, blood related or not.

After their plates were cleared and everyone had eaten their fill, Dark stood up and smoothed His suit jacket down.

“I thought that such a fine meal would be incomplete without another enjoyable activity.” He offered His hand to Grace. “Would you care to dance?”

Grace immediately blushed deeper at the offer, then bit her lip and fiddled with her sleeve nervously. What if I look silly? She thought before she mentally shook herself. Hell with it, why not? It’ll be fun anyway. With that, she took His hand, hers shaking slightly as she said shyly, “Fair warning: I’m not that good, Dark. Sorry in advance, if I step on Your toes.”

“It’s simple, My dear. Just follow My lead.” Dark then chuckled. “And I believe My toes can handle some misuse, darling Grace.”

“Ok, Dark. Thank You.” Grace blushed a bit brighter and nodded.

He then led her into the library, which was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. The floor space was currently wide open, the lovingly maintained grand piano pushed aside to provide more room in the already spacious area.

Meg darted over to an old record player, dropping the needle gently on the record. Frank Sinatra’s voice began to issue from the player.

“Those fingers in my hair That sly come-hither stare That strips my conscience bare It’s witchcraft”

At the sound of Frank Sinatra’s tuneful crooning, Grace grinned. ‘I know this song!’ she thought excitedly, tightening her grip on Dark’s hand. She started absently humming along with the song.

Dark lead her across the floor, helping her to glide along with the rhythm of the melody. Perhaps making her look like a better dancer than she thought herself, in the process.

Grace did notice that she was better than she remembered being at dancing… though because Dark was also an expert dancer, it was hard to say. Leading someone inexperienced -- while making them also look very good at it -- took some real talent.

“And I’ve got no defense for it The heat is too intense for it What good would Common sense for it do? ‘Cause it’s witchcraft Wicked witchcraft And although I know It’s strictly taboo”

Meanwhile, it was quickly dawning on Alex how happy Grace looked with Him… and that was beginning to scare them.

“When you arouse the need in me My heart says ‘Yes, indeed’ in me ‘Proceed with what you’re leadin’ me to’ It’s such an ancient pitch But one I wouldn’t switch‘ Cause there’s no nicer witch Than you”

As the ending bars of the song faded, He pulled her close. Her back was to Him as He leaned down and pushed her hair aside tenderly. Grace’s breath caught in her throat at how small she felt compared to Him, He being more than a foot taller and somehow broader than her plus-sized frame.

His cool lips placed a soft kiss near the hot pulse point in her throat. A tremble ran down her spine. The cool brush of His lips against her racing pulse made her turn a bright crimson and a very faint whine slipped from her throat.

He then straightened up and gently spun her around. “That wasn’t the kiss I promised you. That one requires some mistletoe.”

Caught by surprise, she stammered, “Th-That’s okay, Dark, I-I enjoyed it all the same.”

He pointed upward to a spot directly above them. “Look, Grace.”

Her eyes followed up to where He was pointing. Just over their heads, a glittering sprig of mistletoe formed from nowhere and with nothing supporting it from the high ceiling. The mistletoe sparkled as it hovered in the air right above them. Her eyes widened at this subtle display of magic.

“It’s only a glamour,” Dark said. “But I thought it would be an acceptable alternative, as the real thing is quite poisonous.

“Now, about that kiss I promised…”

He leaned in, cupping her face gently in His hands and lightly pressed His lips first against her forehead, then her cheek, her nose, any place other than her mouth. Tenderly peppering her face with gentle kisses. Drawing out the moment.

Her breath caught in her throat, body trembling with every brush of His cool lips against her face.

Then, giving a small chuckle as He knew that He’d driven her crazy for it, His lips finally met hers. Her eyes widened and she froze for a split second, mind going blank as it finally registered that yes, this was happening!

Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into Him, clutching the lapel of His suit as she kissed Him back shyly, her cheeks burning.

Dark moved a hand back into Grace’s hair, with the obvious intent of prolonging the kiss. Grace tilted her head slightly into the touch to help.

But that distant rumble that they’d heard outside before was suddenly nearer.

A lot nearer.

Dark pulled away from Grace, and her stomach dropped as she realised what she was hearing.

Dark’s whole demeanour changed from the relaxed gentleman of their date, into a cold and stern warrior. He stood at attention, His bearing completely changed to an imposing stance worthy of a general… or royalty.

Anti drew his head back in from looking out the window, and glitched to the Hellgod’s side with a rather impressive looking blade in his hand.

“W̶e̴’̴v̸e̸ ̸g̶o̸t̵ ̸c̸o̸m̶p̷a̷n̵y̷,̴ ̴B̴o̸s̵s̵!̴ ̶A̷n̴d̵ ̷I̶’̴m̶ ̸n̸o̵t̷ ̷t̷a̶l̵k̸i̴n̴’̷ ̷a̸b̷o̶u̸t̶ ̶m̵y̸ ̸A̴u̴n̷t̷ ̸G̷e̵r̶t̵!̸”

Dark‘s order rung throughout the domicile. “GET EVERYONE IN THE HOUSE WEAPONS! NOW!”

Grace’s ears rang at Dark’s order, the echo in it reverberating in her skull but she didn’t flinch. “Dark, is there anything I can do? I mean, I’m no warrior, but can I help in any way?”

Alex shoved themselves away from the wall, instinctively reaching for their hidden knife before stopping themselves. No, they’re not going to draw unless absolutely necessary. No need to let their hosts know they came bearing hidden weapons, unless the situation became truly dire.

Alex came to stand next to Grace, one hand curling around her upper arm. “I think, maybe, we should leave this to them.”

Dark turned back to Grace, His expression pained as He gently took her hand and kissed it. His voice lacked the deep echo as He spoke quietly to her. “I appreciate your desire to help. But I can’t risk it. Not after…” He trailed off.

The look on His face tore at her heart, even as the sweet gesture made her blush softly. She squeezed His hand. “It’s alright Dark, I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

He turned to her companion. “Alex, you may take her home.”

He offered Grace another kiss on the lips, quicker this time, but probably the most sincere action He’d ever made. “I will return to your world, love, once this is over. I promise.”

At the brief kiss, her breath caught at how sincere it was, how sweet and warm, and she stood on her tiptoes to close the distance between them. But it was over far too soon. She then fixed the Hellgod with her best glare, chocolate eyes hard and serious. “You better come back in one piece, all three of you, or I will be very upset. Be safe, My King.”

Dark chuckled at Grace’s threat. “As you wish, milady.”

Grace then took Alex’s hand.

Alex drew themselves up to full height as they addressed Dark. “Pardon my bluntness, but we don’t exactly know where to go. There’s nothing out there, no light, no landmarks. Well, nothing besides the horrible creatures that most likely see us as a tasty snack. How are we supposed to get out of here?”

Dark turned to Alex, pulling out a circular item the size of a silver dollar from His pocket. It had the coppery sheen of an old coin. “I used this once when I had to make a quick retreat. It is an enchanted item, and will take you wherever you need to go.”

He held out His hand, in order to drop the coin into Alex’s. “Just think of the place. But you must be as specific as possible. I trust that it won’t be too difficult for you to operate.”

Instead of just opening their hand, Alex reached up to take the coin from Dark. “I think I can manage.” The coin had a pleasant weight to it, and they turned it over once or twice before holding it tightly.

Grace gently squeezed Alex’s hand. “Just think of being next to Melissa and Ulysses, back where we entered.” She shut her eyes, pushing the worry and concern she had for Dark, Meg and Anti down and concentrated on that one spot as hard as she could.

They closed their eyes, gripped Grace’s hand tighter, and concentrated.

But not on the spot outside the gateway. In the tension of the moment, they didn’t remember enough to bring the two of them back there. They didn’t trust a memory made spotty by fear. Instead, they focused on a small room. On a messy bed tucked away in one corner, a desk in the other. On the books and shoes and scraps of fabric scattered on the floor. On a closet full to bursting with clothes, and shelves covered in random knick knacks.

They focused on their bedroom in their apartment, and wished more than anything to just go home.

There’s a bright flash of light as the amulet was activated… but only one person left.

Alex was gone. But Grace was still there.

[Image by @secretlymarkipliersbarry​, and was linked in the original RP... but Tumblr was being dumb this time around.]

Dark breathed in for a moment, His eyes black with rage. He looked furious enough to spew fire as He paced several feet away from her. His vessel cracked for a moment, the roar of the angry God contained within reverberating through the house.

He took another breath, and His voice was deadly calm amid the echo and white noise.

“They had one task, a task they had set for themselves. To protect you. This is unacceptable. They have failed… and for that, they will die.”

#markiplier fanfiction #darkiplier fanfiction #blankgameplays #darkiplier #antisepticeye #meg the demon #dark x grace #christmas theme #holiday fic #from an old rp #december 2017 #throwback #fan fiction #my collaborations #author insert

[iphoenixrising]

For 700 Followers!

Hi babe. Ah, you know, I think we could really work something out because if there’s anything I like, it’s Tim trying to have the I am an island attitude with clingy, needy Bat Alphas right on his tail ;) Tbh, I wrote this once and it got lost, so I cried, but I’m going to give it another shot!

Also, just saying but there was also a short thing done about *ahem* toys in this au, and you’ll probably find a similar theme X

**

There is nothing worse than water in your fucking boots.

Seriously.

His impromptu dip in the harbor was completely worth the pain in the ass because Two-Face is going to live to see another day, and he even acted less crazy than normal when he was handcuffed by GCPD, quiet while he was taken away in the back of a squad car.

The best part? The villain told him he was glad he hadn’t filled him full of holes after all. Red Robin is going to take that as a win.

And since his sleuthing is done for the night, he can go back to his Perch in Gotham City and get out of these wet clothes and put his damn boots by a heating vent to dry out a little.

He feels good enough about the night to order a pizza and do his notes while a slice is hanging out of his mouth when dry clothes are a thing.

He has a fan turning lazily, trying to keep himself cooled down because the Heat symptoms just started to manifest while he was riding back from the take-down (all that wind rushing by while he’s in a wet suit and still he’s starting to get hot? Seriously, body, stop making shit harder on him).

The pre-Heat could take up to three hours before the main event starts, and he at least wants to get the notes done and go blackout before it happens.

He’s got a bunch of Gatorade and power bars from two weeks ago when Jay and Dick pretty much showed up just in time for him to go full blown. Luckily, Dick had picked up more on the way to his Perch since the God-forsaken sixth sense had struck again. Somehow, maybe some Pack Alpha instinct, Dick had known he was going to need them, and true to form, the last Heat had been particularly vicious, his body in physical pain when he was empty.

(And no, he doesn’t need a reminder how nice Dick and Jay were about it when he was literally fucking crying. Geeze, things he doesn’t need people to see for 100 Alex.)

Which means he should have been good for a month and a half, but Leslie had warned him going this long on suppressants would have some effects on him biologically. She’d mentioned he could have two Heats back-to-back as a sign his body is starting to regulate like any normal Omega. So, really, this pain-in-the-ass is his own fault anyway.

Notes done, he logs out of BI’s mainframe and shoots the Titan’s a quick message, In Gotham. Perfectly safe. Going to sleep for 24-36 hours. Don’t freak out about the blackout mode, and shuts down his main system in preparation.

Barefoot, he pads around to shut off the lights and fans, grabs a Gatorade, starts pulling his nerd shirt off on the way to the bedroom. Security in lockdown and he’s starting to feel the burn just a little bit more.

Not long now. Damn, hopefully this will be fast and furious.

A locked box in the back of the closet is deposited by the bed, his thumb print accepted. He shifts through the unopened packages until he gets the red one and the blue one out, laying them on the bed to open before the round of fuck my contingencies ramps up.

(His face is hot, and not because of the pre-Heat. The two knotting dildos were purchased when he started thinking one night about what he was going to do when his body started regulating out, so Dick and Jay wouldn’t need to play Alphas to his Omega anymore. Ironically, the two toys reminded him of their knots anyway, and he’d been guilty as fuck buying them.)

He’s already started sweating lightly and jumps in the shower to wash off Gotham Harbor.

His phone goes off while he’s drying himself off, shifting his weight because his abdomen is already starting to get tight and uncomfortable in anticipation.

The message on his phone makes him groan/sigh because the Red Hood is wondering:

Jaybird: How was the swim?

There’s more laughing emojis than he realistically needs.

In just boxers, Tim plops down on his bed, taps his phone to decide whether or not to respond. Since they already knew he’d taken down Two-Face, he really doesn’t have options.

Me: nice this time of year. Btw, Harvey didn’t drown. That’s a win for the good guys.

Before he’s done, the ellipsis meaning someone is typing shows up, so he’s got himself in a world of trouble by answering. Natch.

(On the other hand, his Omega whispers, if you hadn’t messaged back, they might come looking for you. It preens at the thought of his Pack Alphas concerned for him, coming for him– Dammit. Not. The. Time.)

Jaybird: Oughta come 2 the Manor. Al made pizza. Can celebrate?

Well, shit.

Me: Thanks 4 the invite. Running time-sensitive diagnostic for the Titans and crashing. See you at the next VA meeting tho.

Okay. So, normal. Jay will understand the need for fighting crime.

Jaybird: No problem. We’ll bring you some.

Fuck. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.

Me: Nah. Not tonight. Gonna set this up and crash. The alarm will wake me when the analysis is done. Enjoy the pizza!

Jaybird: If you’re sure?

Me: Positive. Sleep is calling. GN.

And turns off his phone with a sigh of unmitigated relief.

Crisis averted.

Right?

**

Forty-five minutes later, he’s idly eating popcorn and watching Infinity War when a wave of blistering heat washes over him, and the gentle reprieve is finally done.

His cock is hard and aching within a moment, his hands fisting in the blanket under him, hips jerking. The soft, subtle scent of slick tickles the edges of his senses, his ass starting to get moist under his boxers.

But Tim has old memories of doing this alone back when he was still in the tunic, and he forces himself to breath past the initial stages, fists his hands even tighter to keep from touching himself yet. He remembers how much better the orgasm was when he held off for as long as he could, remembers the time between waves lasted longer.

He bites down on his lower lip to keep in the noises (but really, what is the point?) and tries to just keep thinking.

He shoves the unopened boxes over and sprawls out on his back, trying not to let anything other than his boxers touch his aching erection. His thighs tighten, legs spreading automatically, feet bracing to work his hips a little.

It’s fine. You’ve done this before isn’t really that much of a consolation.

With the fire in his body starting to get more and please and Oh God, his mouth falls open to pant, toss his head back and forth with the arousal building, making his belly get tense.

An abrupt cramp knocks the wind out of him ending on a small, helpless noise that inadvertently escapes.

Rolling on his side, curling in on himself, Tim forces himself to just fucking breathe through it, it won’t last forever.

–when the comm on his desk blips, and the tinny voice is just loud enough to get his attention over things like terribly thought-out biology.

(Everything in you is screaming for an Alpha to help, touch, soothe. It’s not really your fault.)

“If you’re asleep, don’t get up. We’re just going to drop off pizza and we’ll be out of your Perch-”

Which is nothing short of fucking horrific.

“Almost goddit, Dickie,” is lost when another sharp cramp makes him huddle further into the pain rippling over his upper body while his brain screams to just fucking move.

The scent of slick gets stronger, clogging up the room, and the door isn’t even locked–

The next cramp makes his muscles flutter, but he can wobbly-leg it to the door and collapse in front of it.

(I was stabbed in the fucking spleen and still saved Pru. Without Ra’s, I would have been dead soon after, but if I can do that, I can get through this.)

He flips a small panel on the door frame and presses his thumb into it, forehead braced on the wall while he grits his teeth and gets a second or two of his muscles easing back.

Tim focuses on breathing, listening, and sure enough, there’s a timid knock a few minutes later. The door knob wiggles once softly, nearly inaudible voices mumble back and forth while he holds his breath.

He thinks he might be in the clear when it goes quiet again, thinking maybe they’d gone to dump the pizza in his fridge and be on their way out.

But a very clear, “do you smell what I smell?” is the proverbial nail in his coffin.

**

“Timmy? Are you…awake?”

“Please go away, I’m…I’m trying to sleep.” Tim tries again, more desperate now that hearing his Alphas’ voices is hitting all the deep places in him where the Omega hides.

“Don’t smell like it, Sweets. Think maybe ya mighta forgot ta mention something ta yer Alphas?”

(You aren’t mine. This is just about fucking Pack dynamics and bullshit biology. It’s fine, he gets it.)

“Hey,” and Dick’s voice is low and loud enough to be heard, and Tim slaps a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t whimper. “It’s okay. It’s us, Tim. We can make it better if you just open the door. You know we can, don’t you.”

It really isn’t a question, and Dick doesn’t pretend to make it one.

His abdomen spasms and he’s rolling his forehead against the wall in denial because fuck, haven’t they done enough? He’s not going to die, and, seriously, he’s a shitty Omega anyway.

“It’s not Heat Mania,” he tries to be reasonable, proud of himself when his voice only cracks once or twice, “I can get through it by myself this time. Y-You two just gave up five days a few weeks ago.”

The hand goes back over his mouth and his boxers are getting wet now, the way he’s curled in on himself probably not helping the situation.

Voices talking too low for him to make out again.

“Seriously, it’s fine. You guys got me out of danger. This? This is just business as usual. B is out of Gotham and you can’t be here for that long–”

“–B called in the Birds of Prey ta help out while he’s out wid’ the League,” Jay breaks through his ramblings. “We got Rob n’ BG. Cass is in fer a visit, and a trio of ass kickers. Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout Gotham, Timmers. Shit’s all kinds a handled.”

The door knob wiggles again, making him gasp because shit, if anyone could crack his fingerprint locks, it’s probably the Red Hood.

“So. That’s not an excuse to go through your Heat alone,” Dick cuts in, sounds more ragged and raw, the Pack Alpha coming out in him. “There’s honestly no reason for you to go through it by yourself at all because your Pack is supposed to take care of you. And we are here to do just that, Tim.”

And fuck he does (and doesn’t) want to.

(It really is going to hurt like a motherfucker when it’s all over with, isn’t it?)

And while Tim Drake could give them a hundred different excuses, could explain it away a hundred different ways

(“I don’t want my Omega to get used to having Alphas. That just makes my Heats more difficult. Please understand.”)

–he, Tim, not the Omega, really doesn’t want to.

(Oh yeah. He’s figuratively fucked. Literally fucked to possibly follow.)

He’s already reaching up to thumb at the panel again before he realizes what he’s doing and pauses, sighs at his own weakness.

And like they can feel him hesitate, the heavy musk finally gets to him from under the door. The combination of Dick and Jay and the Alpha instinct to soothe.

“Please, Timmy, Baby. Please let us in.” Dick says to the door, hands braced on the door frame outside, staring a hole right through the damn thing because he really wants to say is please let us love you.

Jay is nudged tightly against his back, peering over his shoulder with those precious few inches of extra height.

“S’all right, Timmers,” Jay’s deep voice rolls past his ear when his second leans over to talk closer, simultaneously sliding a hand over Dick’s hip, finger making soothing circles around the bone. “Ya know we love it when yer all pretty n’ pink fer us, yeah? Heat makin’ ya bite yer lip n’ flutter yer eyes when we get ta touch. N’ ya know how much we like it, don’t cha? Ya know it don’t matter how long it needs ta be, ‘er how much needin’ ya got saved up inside. Ya know the only thing what matters is how perfect ya are under our hands n’ mouth, yeah?”

Dick smirks at the tactic, turning just enough to get close to Jay’s face and shove their mouths together in a quick kiss.

His mate and second just grins right back, his down ‘n dirty one.

“Wadda ya say, Sweets? Gonna have mercy on these two ole’ Alphas? Let us be good, n’ take care a’ ya like we oughta?”

There’s a low noise, something muffled by the door, but Dick’s muscles tighten against the front of Jay’s body, putting the other Alpha right on point.

“Sounds like–” pain.

Jay just nods, staring intently at the door, fingers tapping over the hilt of this .45 like he’s thinking of taking the easy way inside. “Starting up awful fast, ain’t he, Alpha?”

“Leslie said something about double Heats while his body is getting back under control,” Dick reminds him absently. “I’m hoping this is the only one he’s experienced so far.”

Jay hums a little, “you n’ me both. Don’t like ‘im hittin’ two ina month. Too much strain.”

“Agreed, but we–” and Dick gets cut off by the sudden, powerful scent hitting them right in the instincts. The Alpha in them knows what a spike that sudden means.

Dick turns to make one last plea to the door, please, Baby, you don’t have to do this alone, before they would have to go. If Tim was that adamant, they wouldn’t hack the door to get to him, to force him to accept them during his Heat, but if he caught their scents, it could make the cycle more painful (“The inner Omega will pine for an Alpha. Scents will not help, but make the [sic] situation worse. An Alpha should vacate the premises if an Omega in Heat does not belong to him or her”). To keep it from being so much worse, they’d have no choice but the leave.

The possibility sticks in Dick’s throat, makes Jay rumble out a low whine.

But the telltale click resounds, kills the words in Dick’s mouth before they get out.

It’s a breath when he and Jay step over the threshold, kneel by the (their) pained Omega, warm hands and soothing touches, purring a low reverberation that makes Tim’s spine uncurl when Dick gathers him up and lifts. Jay is back with more Gatorade and power bars, throwing off his jacket and holsters while Dick kicks off his shoes and straddles Tim on the bed, leans closer to start kneading out the muscle spasms and nuzzling against Tim’s throat gently, soothingly.

“Ssshh, sshh, it okay Timmy. We’re here.” And Dick tilts his head just a little so his throat is visible and his scent gland right there if Tim wanted to give him and bury his face there.

(He totally does. Stupid fucking instincts.)

And Dick’s hands are warm, the pressure just enough to work out those muscles, to make the pain ease down. At one point, Tim had wrapped a hand around Dick’s forearm to have something grounding.

“You don’t have to do this,” is low and soft, “it isn’t going to be bad this time. Just a normal Heat. I can handle it. I have handled it.”

Jay takes a knee beside the bed, reaches over to direct Tim’s gaze with a forefinger under his chin. “Timmers,” is more stern than he’s used to hearing from the Red Hood, “like me n’ Dickie dunno how much ya can handle? Like we dunno how much ass ya can kick? C’mon, give us a little credit, yeah?”

Tim’s eyes get more dazed with all the stimulus hitting him right in the Omega instincts, blinking hazily at Jay kneeling there. “Seriously, I’m a shitty Omega, and neither of you need this. It’s bad enough you gave up a week already this month.”

“I told you,” Dick counters serenely, hands pausing, “that you are not a bad Omega. I would have thought during your last Heat you would have gotten that.”

They can both see Tim swallow, his eyes dart away, clearly disbelieving but not calling them on their bullshit.

Dick’s inner Alpha curls around his insides, wanting nothing more than to flop on the pretty Omega and pin him down until he cries uncle and finally believes in them, wants nothing more than to stick his nose in the sweet scent gland and never move, wants to hear Tim say it, just once–

“I’m yours, aren’t I Alpha?”

–but there’s no room for that yet. Not here, not now. Someday soon when Tim stopped giving into his instincts to hide and protect himself. Even if the Omega in him had accepted their Alphas, it still drew back, remembered the pain they both caused at one time or another.

And Dick understood. As Pack Alpha, he can scent more keenly, as a detective, he can put all the evidence together with the spikes of adrenaline, the quickening of a pulse, the flinch when certain things are brought up in casual conversation.

(Someday, he thinks fiercely, nuzzling into Tim’s jugular, while the knots under his hands ease down, you are going to forgive us, and everything is going to finally be okay.)

He huffs a little when Jay kneels by the bed, hands folded to rest his chin and watch. Timmy’s head flops over, the lines around his eyes still prominent with pain and the ingrained struggle not to just give in, and Jay trails his fingers lightly over the hand fisted in the sheets.

“Hey, hey. S’all right now, ain’t it, Baby?” He keeps it low and deep, lets it end on a nice purr. Inching the hand over, closer to his mouth, “an’ ta think, y’ weren’t gonna let me n’ Dickie here fer this? Tryin’ ta punish us, are ya?”

“Wh-What?! What are you even–”

Dick’s hand on his shoulder stops Baby Bird from sitting up, his cheeks gettin’ pink ‘cause he get all embarrassed ‘bout it.

(And fuck ain’t it cute.)

Big Wing smirks a little and leans up, gives Jay some room. He takes all he can, rising up on his knees, turning his jaw a little so his musk is stronger, getting fuller.  He gets to wrap a palm around that wrist, pinning it lightly when he hovers over Tim’s wide eyes, makes him face this, face him, face them.

“Ya already know it, don’t cha, Timmy?” Low and growly against his mouth, flick of a tongue over his bottom lip, “how much ya make us want, yeah?”

And since Jason Todd is a man what knows how Tim reacts to being touched, how he gets so sweetly slick and ready, how needy and soft he can whine, knows that as much as Timmy says he don’t need this, need them, his body don’t agree with it.

It’s how he n’ Dickie can tell when Timmy is lyin’ ‘cause it��s the Omega what tells them the truth.

It’s why Jay can purr and nuzzle, can lean in and take his mouth like he owns it. When Tim makes a noise, arches his back, Jay knows Dick is mouthing at him, right below where his palms are rubbing, licking the line between boxers and skin.

Pullin’ back just makes Timmy chase his mouth, eyes half-mast and cheeks just the right shade of pink.

“See that, Sweetheart? How pretty y’ are? An’ ya weren’t gonna let us be here fer it? ‘M hurt over here.” And he purrs against the tendon in Tim’s neck, just the sharp edge of teeth teasing down to his collarbone.

“Th-that’s not–!”

“But it is, Timmy,” Dick fills in soothingly, mouthing at the waistband of his boxers. “You weren’t going to let us have this.”

“Dammit that isn’t–”

“Sshh,” and Jay presses a kiss back to his throat, right below the scent gland, “s’all right. We f’give ya, Sweets. ‘Cause we’re here now, and that’s what matters, you feel me?”

Tim finds it in him to brace a hand against Jay’s shoulder, pushing him back just enough to be able to think around the heat pooling in his stomach, lighting his body with need.

“It isn’t like that!” He tries, he really does, stares into those eyes with green flecks faded away. “It–this–it’s just!”

Dick finally seems to have enough, knee walking up so he and Jay could loom over the squirming Omega, both of them facing him down.

“At first, it was because of the Heat Mania, Timmy,” Dick’s voice is low and firm, “but it stopped being about that for me in the first five minutes.”

Jay purrs at him softly, “like I’d keep comin’ back ta ya if’n it was only ‘cause a’ biology, Timmers. Like you think I don’t see this fine as fuck ‘Mega right ‘chere needin’ an Alpha? Like I don’t want a piece a’ ya?”

That is...so not what he anticipated tonight once he’d given the Alphas an appropriate out. The admission makes his heart thump painfully in his chest, a jolt of fear slithering through his brain pan at all the implications of this–

–that would fully set in later on after his body stops trying to literally kill him with sex.

Because it’s enough of a push, this moment when scents are so fucking sincere and they’re looking at him with heat and affection, and he wants so desperately to believe. It’s enough to make the Omega in him rear up past his barriers and bullshit masks, for the whine, the call to his Pack, to his Alphas, to spill out of his mouth without holding back.

Fuck.

Because even though it’s a rough, soft sound, something he’d never been able to let himself do before now, not with all the secrets he’d had to keep, it makes some of the tightness in his chest ease down to finally be able to let it out, let his instincts take over.

In the form of a whine, a call to his Alphas. His Omega could finally stop mourning being left out of the Pack.

So he’s completely unprepared for Dick and Jay to react so distinctly to that noise, for them to bury their faces in his throat and lick along both sides until the kiss of teeth along his collar bone becomes a bloom of pain and sinks deep into his subconscious. It’s not (and he gasps in a hard breath just thinking about it, about either of them biting down on the back of his neck instead…) to mate him or make him submit, it’s just marks made to show ownership, to show Pack, and his eyes might get a little hot and full with it while the Omega in him rolls over to show its’ belly to the (his) Alphas.  

And it’s something he’s been wanting for so long, the confirmation that he’s no longer the outcast, the Omega without a place. During the long road to come back to Gotham, back to the Bats, he hasn’t let himself sink into the depression that hit back when his tunic was yanked out from under him, leaving him hanging.

With the indents of teeth along his collarbone, with the distinct Alpha scent on his neck, the assurance he’s been claimed as their Pack Omega for anyone to see, is enough to make him close his eyes tight to keep from fucking crying. Instead, he distracts himself by lifting both arms around his Alphas to hold on while they lick across the indents of their teeth, soothing the sting.

He doesn’t let himself panic when they move on from marking him, when Jay is licking into his mouth and Dick’s hands are spreading his thigh, long-fingered hand cupping his straining erection.

He keens with it, back arching at the onslaught, his inner Omega sated with the marks on his body, languishing in the attention of his Alphas.

It’s so easy to fall under their spell, to put himself in their hands, and just give in. If they weren’t so damn careful and easy with him when he needs it that way, if they didn’t fuck him dirty and rough when it needed it that way instead, if they didn’t purr against his chest and lick at the marks, if they didn’t talk low against the back of his neck, if they didn’t hold the hell on when all he wanted to do is run.

Hands that know how to make him writhe, are busy smoothing up the sides of his thighs and over his abdomen, Jay and Dick trading places with his mouth. Thumbs make small circles on his nipples, makes them peak, makes the spark of pleasure shoot down his spine straight to his aching cock, while he keens in Dick's mouth.

“Uh-oh,” hazily gets through the heat pooling in his belly, in his blood, lighting his nerves on fire. “Looks like we have some competition, Jaybird.”

Fuck.

And Dick is leaning up on his knees, holding up the blue knotting dildo after he’d snatched it from the blankets, looking it over with a critically assessing expression–

Then those eyes slide over to the Omega spread out on the bed beneath them, the one smelling like a bakery, the one that needed him, needed them to take care of him.

“I told you, I can handle my Heats.” His face is going red and not because of the whole lot of naked happening beside the bed where Jay is stripping off the body suit.

“Mmhm,” and Dick widens his knees, spreading Baby Bird’s legs wider, puts the toy by his calf so he can be the one to use it on Timmy (and he is very interested on seeing how much of it his Omega can take before he’s screaming for the real deal).

The other Alpha’s eyes shoot to the subtly covered splash of red almost by the wall, and one brow quirks up as a side to the smirk on Jason Todd’s face.

“Dickie. Ya’ thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If it’s to fuck him with these things until he cries, then yes. I’m on board with that plan, Little Wing.”

“Good t’ see we’re on’a same page, you feel me here?”

The oldest vigilantes exchange a heated glance, the message clear from that look alone:

Time to teach Timmy a lesson and get to have him at the Same. Damn. Time.

Two Robins with one stone.

Jay is already crawling over Tim to lay on the other side while Dick moves fast, climbing off to shimmy out of his clothes until he’s in black briefs, coming right back to the perfect spot between the third Robin’s clenched thighs. He grins, already deciding on a plan, while Jay pins both wrists above their bird’s head, preparing him for the on-coming torture.

And when this cycle is done, when they’ve both had turns teasing him between waves with the toys he’d purchased, fucking him fast and rough or slow and soft until their knots throbbed to be buried in him, when they’ve made Tim give in to them, over and over, made him beg for their cocks, promised to always call next time no matter what.  When he’s so overwork, overstimulated, a trembling, babbling, crying pile of please fuck me before I die.

When they make the lesson stick.

(“Never gonna need ‘em again. Ya gotch us, n’ ya better damn well call b’for ya use it again. Do you feel me, Baby?”

“These are last resort only, Tim. You only get to use these after you’ve called both of us and not because of a case or checking in on Gotham.”

He’d only been stupidly grateful all three of them could fit in his tub at the time, water lapping lazily around him, caught on Jay’s lap with his leg in Dick’s, hands on his ankle and calf under the water. He was dozing and utterly fucking destroyed, which is the only reason he agreed to it in the first place, dammit. They took advantage of fucking him completely out.

(Alphas. Of fucking course.)

But this time, after they’d been so fucking thorough in showing him where his place with them really is, Red Robin can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just a bunch of Alphas taking care of the Pack Omega. If all the sweet things Dick growls in his ear is more than just hormones and Pack Alpha lizard brain. He wonders if Jay’s dirty talk doesn’t stem from some messed up sense of guilt or responsibility from back when they were just, you know, trying to kill one another. Or, Jay was trying to kill him and Red was really just trying not to die.

He wonders if it isn’t just a matter time until his body regulates.

He wonders if they know what they’re doing to him when they act like he’s theirs.

He wonders how far they’re going to go.

(A part of him is terrified to find out.)

#700 followers #omega!tim #alpha!dick #alpha!jay #aob #tagged for anon #timjaydick #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #a bit of smut #with a twist of angst #my fic #my writing

[nancywheelxr]

(our friends set us up on a blind date as a prank because we don’t like each other but neither of us wants to let them win so ) | Part 3:

( part 1 ) ( part 2 )

“Have you ever noticed how ominous this song is?” Winn says, between muffins, “I mean, you better watch out? You better not cry? Like, are you threatening me? Are you warning me? Is Santa going to kill me in my sleep?”

Nanoon’s is still covered in string lights and Christmas songs are still flowing through the speakers at all times of day, Christmas spirit stubbornly clinging to the coffee shop with every red-and-green decoration, but there are worse things to see at ten in the morning, Winn supposes. Especially when the food and the coffee are for free. “I know right? I never understood that,” Kara nods enthusiastically, ponytail swishing behind her, “he sees you when you sleep, he knows when you’re awake? I’m pretty sure that classifies as stalking.”

Their waitress brings another plate of muffins and donuts, eyeing Kara’s bony wrists and her half-eaten blueberry donut with jealousy before leaving them at the table. Winn snorts, watching Kara hoard the donuts on her own plate like a blonde, cardigan-wearing dragon. “Either way. Here’s to having survived another Christmas,” he raises his coffee for a cheap, brunch toast and Kara clinks her own paper cup against it with a grin. “But seriously, is there a reason you dragged me out for brunch or– not that I’m complaining, far be it from me to refuse free food, but. Is there?”

Kara adjusts her glasses, shrugging half-heartedly, but it can’t be that bad, because her smiles stay fixed in place, if only a little sad at the edges. “What, can’t I want to do something nice for no particular reason?”

“This is about the blind date, isn’t it?” Winn sighs, putting his coffee down. His apology coffee, it seems. “We talked about this yesterday, it’s fine. It turned out better than fine, actually.”

“Right! Right, no, I know– I’m still sorry about that, though, sort of,” she shakes her head and her ponytail swishes again. “But that’s not why I asked you here. It’s not– it’s just that you are one of my best friends but when was the last time we talked? Really talked, no world-threatening, reality-altering, future-changing disasters. Just you know, two friends talking about life, and movies, and work!”

“Kara, we pretty much work at the same place– dealing with world-threatening, reality-altering, future-changing disasters is basically our whole job.”

“I know. But! It’s like game night. Game night is no longer among us. It perished sometime between the Daxamites and Reign and we didn’t even notice!” She complains, chewing on her donut with renewed passion as if maybe the void left behind by game night could be filled with exceptionally good pastries. “What’s next? Karaoke night? If we don’t do something about this soon, it will be chaos.”

Winn sips at his latte, stalling. Kara does have a point, a semblance of normalcy sounds awesome right about now, after Worldkillers and not-so-bright futures and a year of playing the universe’s deadliest game of chess with Brainy’s homicidal maniac relative. Honestly, at this point, they should all start a club, he, Brainy and Kara, make some t-shirts, hold weekly meetings. How to deal with your psycho family member 101. But he digresses. “Okay, I see your point. Things have been kind of intense, lately.” That’s the understatement of the century, he knows. “And it would be nice to hang out without some impending doom glooming everything up.”

Kara sets her cup down with a little too much force, coffee spilling on the wood table, but it doesn’t dampen her enthusiasm, she’s grinning as she tries to clean up the mess with napkins. “It would, wouldn’t it? A normal night, without any superhero business?”

“I have an idea,” Winn passes her more napkins, “why don’t we resurrect game night?”

“Yes! That would be perfect!” She squeals, eyes widening behind the glasses, “you should bring Brainy, and I’ll invite Nia and Lena, too! It’s a shame J’onn is still out of town, though.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be here for Karaoke night, right?”

“I think so, yeah. He’ll definitely be here before New Year’s Eve.”

Winn is in the middle of trying to remember where he put his board games when the TV catches their attention. The news anchor is outside a suburban house– pastel colors, white picket fences, rose bushes in the garden; the whole package– talking about murder and some sort of alien serial killer on the loose, and Winn can physically see Kara itching to fly. “You should go,” he tells her, “sounds like superhero business, hopefully not so world-threatening, reality-altering, future-changing level.”

“I’m so sorry,” she rushes out, already digging dollar bills out of her wallet, eyes glued to the screen, “but we are bringing game night back. That’s non-negotiable now. And you still have to tell me everything about your date with Brainy– but we’ll talk later!”

And she’s off, doorbell ringing on her wake.

*

What no one tells you about spending an entire year in the future is that, like with any other extended trip, there’s a shitton of things to do once you get back.

Because being an adult sucks like that.

Alex made sure the DEO took care of his rent, and Winn is thankful for that, he is, he very much likes not being homeless and there’s no way he’d find another apartment like this for the same price– but anything beyond that, it’s a work in progress.

His internet connection isn’t nearly as good as before, won’t be for a little while, or at least until he can stabilize his bank acount– and that’s not gonna happen until he forces himself to go grocery shopping for real and stop buying take out every night. There’s only so much Chinese food he can eat without getting sick, anyway.

Google Chrome crashes for the third time this afternoon and Winn lets his laptop slide from his lap to the floor. And honestly, he hopes it breaks and bursts into flames, because if he has to watch that freaking pixelated dinosaur jump over equally pixelated cactus one more time–

Maybe he should buy a cactus. It would probably be better than sit here and try his luck with cable.

You know what, maybe he should.

Dragging himself off the couch, Winn stretches, hopping over his fallen laptop– sadly, still in one piece– and looking for his keys; there has to be at least one flower shop still open in the whole city. It doesn’t even have to be nearby, he’s willing to go for a walk.

Keys, keys, keys– got it!

He grins, throwing his front door open and– “what are you doing here?”

Brainy is standing in his doorway, one hand poised to knock and the other holding a manilla envelope. “Oh.” He takes in Winn’s clothes, key halfway into the lock, “is this a bad time?”

“No. I mean, I was about to head out, but,” the cactus will have to wait, it seems, “by all means, come in, I guess. Wait, how did you know where I live?”

“The DEO keeps a personal file on every current and former employee,” he says, breezing past Winn and inside the apartment, envelope thrust unceremoniously into Winn’s hands. “It was easy enough. But do not worry, I only scanned the contact information.”

“Because that’s not creepy at all,” Winn comments without any real heat, too busy opening the envelope and too curious to be annoyed. He shakes it upside down and two photos fall down, screenshots from security cameras showing– no way. “Dude, we should have these framed!” The first one has Alex’s shocked face while the second has Kara’s, both taken in just the right second. “And then, when we do the big reveal in– what, a few weeks? Anyway– we should give it to them, like, with little bows on top– oh, oh, I know! There should be a cake too, with Congrats, you’ve been played! written on top!”

“That is… an idea, certainly,” Brainy pauses in the middle of his living room, back straight and stiff, looking almost nervous. “But not the reason I’m here.”

“Well, then what is it?” Winn asks, scooping up his laptop from the floor, and now that there’s another person here, in his apartment, he’s beginning to notice how messy it truly is. The jacket thrown over the couch now feels glaringly obvious and the takeout containers from lunch still sitting on his kitchen table couldn’t be more noticeable with neon signs hanging over them. If only the person standing on his living room weren’t so judgy, or even just had given him a heads up before showing up on his doorstep. But god forbid, that would be asking too much. “What is the reason? Come on, man, did something happen? Are they onto us?”

Something complicated scrunches up Brainy’s face, not quite a grimace but just as disgruntled. He opens his mouth, stops himself, then closes it, before trying again, “no, I don’t believe so. But something did happen. After Alex convinced Supergirl to pick you up for brunch, whatever that means.”

“Wait, Alex convinced Kara? But she– no, okay, why did Alex convince Kara? What happened after she left?”

“It did not take much convincing, I assure you. Supergirl had already been talking about some board game she found in her closet this morning? Somehow that led to brunch, I didn’t entirely follow on their logic.” He frowns, sounding more irritated with himself than anything. To be fair, one year ago, Winn would be rolling his eyes, but damn if it’s not confusing to be in a completely different time. Sometimes Garth and Lyle would say ordinary stuff and it still went way over Winn’s head; it’s like the entire world’s sharing some inside joke, but you can’t even tell the set up from the punchline. “As I was saying, after she left, Alex requested, ordered, really, that we talked somewhere private.”

“Oh, so she wanted to get you alone, without me or Kara? That– that doesn’t sound like Alex. What did she tell you?”

“I thought the same,” Brainy exclaims, and wow. There’s a first for everything, Winn figures. “It’s completely off her normal behavior! Once we were alone, she threatened me.”

“Alex did what now?”

“Yes, strange, isn’t it? She warned me about the consequences of breaking your heart, but that makes no sense; if we are supposedly dating, why would I do that?”

Worry and apprehension had been steadily growing, coiling tight around his lungs, wondering if this is the next crisis– mind control, invasion of the body snatchers, who knows!– but now it deflates like a balloon, and he exhales a lungful of relief. “So that’s it? That’s what she wanted to talk to you about? Oh, man, you got me really worried there for a sec.”

Like most things that come out of Winn’s mouth, this seems to irk Brainy in all the wrong ways. “And it is cause for concern, Winslow, if the Director is under the influence of some sort of mind–”

“Okay, I’ll stop you right there,” Winn says, trying to placate him. He shoves his jacket off the couch and pushes pillows aside, clearing space for them to sit down. “It’s nothing to worry about. That was just Alex’s version of a shovel talk, it’s fine. I mean, it was probably very scary, because it’s Alex, but it’s fine.”

Brainy sits, one eyebrow raising as he appears to debate with himself if he should believe Winn or not. “Shovel talk?”

“Yeah, it’s a thing people do when a sibling or close friend starts dating, they give the boyfriend or girlfriend the good ol’ you hurt them, I’ll kick your ass speech.” And yeah, it’s his bad, Winn can recite a mea culpa here; he should’ve warned Brainy about things that could possibly happen, but, frankly, Winn had not considered this as a likely scenario. “It’s sweet, actually.”

The utterly flat look Brainy levels him is just too funny, and along with having him here, sitting on Winn’s couch because Alex scared him with her shovel talk, it sends Winn into a fit of laughter. He can’t help it. There’s something so absurd about the whole situation, it sends him laughing all over again everytime he hiccups back in control. Even Brainy, when Winn manages to gather himself, has an indulgent smile on his face. “A very strange custom,” he notes, “but understandable with its due context.”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, man.” Winn waves him off, leaning back on the cushions. If he had gone grocery shopping, this would be a nice time for a beer. “But it’s good that you’re here, because while you were being shoveled, I was getting free muffins and free coffees-- now that I think about it, I’m not sure Kara understands the concept of brunch very well either. But nevermind that, the point is,” he grins, “we are invited for game night.”

A wary sigh from Brainy and the squinting look on his eyes tell Winn he would probably have agreed on the beer thing. “I’m assuming that has something to do with Kara’s recently found board game and brunch.”

Winn snickers, “you would assume correctly. Look, I’m kinda hungry, are you staying or what? ‘Cause I’m thinking of ordering some pizza, so-- speak now or be hungry forever.”

It snaps Brainy sharply into motion. He stands up, smoothing out his clothes, “no, I should probably go.”

“Suit yourself,” Winn shrugs, standing up as well, and his phone buzzes on the table. “Oh, no. This is not good.”

“Something wrong?” Brainy asks, peering over his shoulder to look at the screen, “is that Alex?”

“Yes, she wants to meet for lunch tomorrow,” he swallows audibly, they both know what this means, “oh god, now it’s my turn to get the shovel talk.”

And Brainy, the goddamn asshole, he smiles. “As you said it yourself, there is nothing to worry about. It’s sweet, in fact.”

Winn savors every last bit of pleasure of slamming the door closed on his stupid smug face.

#supergirl fic #winn schott jr #brainy #querl dox #brainiac 5 #winndox #alex danvers #kara danvers #when in rome

[thebachelordiaries]

Jocks And Finance Bros: Bachelorette First Impressions

Becca, I hope you like jocks and finance bros. 

If not, you’re shit out of luck.

Becca dates one athlete and they beat that one dating preference of her’s to death by casting 18 or so former athletes. Kind of like how they beat “Let’s Do The Damn Thing” tagline to death.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.

A letter to the men on this season of The Bachelorette:

Do you think you deserve this goddess of a woman, Becca Kufrin? You probably don’t. You probably think too highly of yourself to know this.

Maybe two of you will be good enough for her. Five of you may turn out to be decent people, but that’s me being generous. If it’s anything like JoJo’s season, we will have just one or two decent men. ABC producers, please don’t let me down. Oh wait, you already did with the super-short bios. 

This season we have 25 28 men vying for Becca’s heart, or at least a blue checkmark on their Instagram page. At least one of you will get fake engaged on Paradise and six of you will move from middle-of-nowhere USA to Los Angeles and move back home within a year. I’m not sure which guys will do that yet, but it’s always fun to guess!

Anyway, good luck with your 15 minutes of fame!

Signed,

The Bachelor Diaries.

WTF: No Q&A?

ABC did not include the usual Q&A in this year’s cast bios. I’m so offended. How will I truly understand these men if I don’t know what kind of fruit they’d be or what kind of superpower they’d want?

I would boycott this season because of this, but I have literally nothing better to do on Monday nights, or any night for that matter. I’m still going to try my best to roast these men, of course. It shouldn’t be that hard.

Despite no Q&A’s, I will still form my own opinions on these guys. I, like Kanye West, am a free thinker. Go poopidy-scoop yourself, ABC.

Ok, now let’s get to know these men:

Alex, 31, Construction Manager

Alex is the male equivalent of the basic white girl. He likes country music, his dog, the beach and skiing. He probably has “Let’s go on a hike together!” on his Bumble profile and regularly wears a Patagonia dad hat.

Blake, 28, Sales Rep

We already met horse boy Blake on After The Final Rose. He either played baseball or football in college. Thanks for being so concise, ABC. However, he looks like a baseball player to me. While originally from a small town in Colorado, he definitley lives in LA now. He also believes “two people need to be independent in order to truly love each other” so I think that means he’s into open relationships and or will cheat on you.

Chase, 27, Advertising VP

Chase, unlike Blake, was definitley a college baseball player who was apparently good enough to be in the College Wold Series but evidently not good enough to go pro— at least longterm. We also met Chase on ATFR and I don’t remember much about him. He likes “adventure” and the “outdoors” so he’s quite the special snowflake.

Chris, 30, Sales Trainer

What even is a sales trainer? Chris hopes to retire by 40. In this economy? Good luck with that. He is passionate about “fitness” and “health” which is so unique and different. I feel like I really got to know him through that piece of information.

Christian, 28, Banker

Christian is a former semi-pro soccer player who moved to the US from Mexico when he was three. I feel like his picture makes him look like he has a little head, but other than that he seems alright.

Christon, 31, Former Harlem Globetrotter/ Professional Dunker

I spent a good 30 seconds wondering why two guys with the same name didn’t have their last name initials included in their bios. It took another 30 seconds to notice that Christon was spelled differently than Christian. So this dude is a professional dunker in LA. My first thought is that he’d have a pretty good intro video package for The Bachelorette. Anyone want to put money down that he gets one?

Clay, 30, Pro Football Player

Clay was on his way to the poetry slam but somehow got lost and ended up on the Bachelorette. He allegedly doesn’t curse but is a fan of hip-hop music. I think he is the “famous” football player who was in talks to be on this season. Apparently I should care. Never heard of him. 

Colton, 26, Former Pro Football Player

“Hi, my name is Colt and welcome to my Youtube Channel!” That’s the vibe I’m getting from this picture. I’m also getting Blake Griffin vibes. He just looks strangely tan here. Colton may have a job at the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I’m curious to know if he has a story as to WHY he is involved with CF. He also lives in Denver and has a dog named Sniper, which is awkward because the neighboring city of Boulder just banned assault weapons.

EDIT: He was the guy who asked out Aly Raisman via public video and they briefly dated. I shipped them so hard. I AM SHOOKETH.

Connor, 25, Fitness Coach

I feel like I’m going to be sick if I hear one more guy talk about how they were “almost” a professional athlete and how much they lo0o0o0ove working out. I’m sadly only at the beginning of this cast list. Someone pray for me. And someone pray that Connor’s eyebrows grow back after that terrible wax job.

Darius, 26, Pharmaceutical Sales Rep

Darius works for big pharma yet claims to be dedicating his life to helping others. Err, okay. He likes to dance and travels a lot so my guess is he’s probably not ready to settle down at age 26 despite his 36-year-old hairline.

David, 25, Venture Capitalist

David looks like every finance bro who lives in West Village and only dates 22-year-old Instagram models. The only difference is that he lives in Denver instead of Manhattan, which by society’s standards makes him more wholesome. He also loves guacamole, but dislikes avocado, which roughly translates to: I don’t cook and eat Chipotle for dinner every night.

Grant, 27, Electrician

The only way Grant is making it past night one is if he shows up fully dressed as a member of the Village People or as Bob The Builder. If not, he has no chance.

Garrett, 29, Medical Sales Rep

Pro tip to ABC: The letter A comes before the letter R in the alphabet. These names are out of order. 

Anyway, Garret reminds me of Ben Afleck in that his face just makes me want to punch him..in the face. Besides the fact that he also works for big pharma, he actually has outdoor hobbies besides “I enjoy fresh air and walking in the woods” like fly fishing and showshoeing. I’m hoping he isn’t a giant jerk because I kind of like him.

Jake, 29, Marketing Consultant

I thought his name was “Joke” at first because I am a terrible person. I think Joke...I mean Jake...is from the same city as Becca. (I’m assuming Minnesota only has one city) I feel like all hot people in cities have this inner-circle where they know of each other, so maybe they’ve crossed paths before.

Jason, 29, Sr. Corporate Banker

Andrew Keegan? I love your work. “Jason” likes sports and singing along to Disney movies. He contains multitudes. 

Jean Blanc, 31, Colognoisseur

I love that ABC took a smart, educated, immigrant with a successful job and gave him a fake occupation on television. Jean Blanc is a cologne connoisseur. I feel like he would smell good. 10/10 would smell him.

Joe, 31, Grocery Store Owner

I feel like a lot of these bios are the equivalent to what it’s like to drive in an Uber. The driver is always explaining to you how successful they are and where they traveled as a way to prove they aren’t some loser driving you around. Joe’s bio screams “Yeah I own a grocery store but also worked in finance before I burnt myself out, so don’t judge me.” Nobody was judging you, but now I am.

John, 28, Software Engineer

John hopes to be the first Asian male to make it out of night one on The Bachelorette. I can already tell he’s better than most of these guys: he works at a start-up in Silicon Valley, likes wine, plays guitar and bakes banana bread. He deserves a rose, dammit!

Jordan, 26, Male Model

Robert Mills, who is like an important ABC guy or something, called Jordan the “greatest Bachelorette contestant of all time.” Clearly he’s trying to make us forget about Chad. Good luck with that, Robert. Definitley not happening.

So Jordan is probably this season’s villain. Whatever, I don’t care. I DO care, however, that his bio is bragging about a mediocre 4:24 mile time and “sprinting to the finish line.” The time was written as “4.24″ by ABC and a comma is also missing from that sentence. ABC, let me know if you want to hire me as an editor. Back to the mile comment: A mile is an endurance mid-distance race. Nobody is technically sprinting in it, unless it’s a tactical race. Puns don’t work if they’re factually incorrect. 

Kamil, 30, Social Media Participant

Kamil works in real estate and is a part-time model, but ABC decided to call him a “social media participant.” He’s originally from Poland but lives in Upstate New York, which is evident based on the fact he’s wearing a denim button-up shirt.

Leo, 31, Stuntman

It’s crazy how fast Alex Bordy grew his hair in a year. “Not Alex Bordy” is a stuntman in LA, which I heard is a pretty sick job. I am personally a fan of his hair. He knows how to tame those curls and probably rocks a great man bun. I would love to know what products he uses.

Lincoln, 26, Account Executive

Lincoln has a lot of things going on in his bio. He moved to Boston from Nigeria as a teenager, went to college in Kentucky and moved to Santa Monica for work. We met him on ATFR and he was super nervous, cute and had an accent to make most girls swoon. I’d say make him The Bachelor but 26 is too young in my opinion.

Mike, 27, Sports Analyst

How come every Ohio sports fan names their dog Riggins? Based on his hair, I’m assuming Mike is a radio sports analyst. That hair on television? No thank you. Hopefully Leo can give him some tips to make his hair look decent. Did you know: Becca’s psycho ex Ross used to have long hair? It was not cute. But I don’t think Becca is going to send the long-haired guys home immediately a la the notoriously shallow Andi Dorfman.

Nick, 27, Attorney

I’m excited for Nick to be on the show because I know him by association. Let me explain: A friend of mine went to school with one of his friends and periodically stalks her social media. The friend is a girl, so I think he’s friends with mostly girls, which may explain why he loves to “brunch.” He looks terrible in this photo. Nick gives me polished, sexually ambiguous vibes based on how he appears on Insta. I also knew he was going to be on the show before R*ality St*ve, which made me feel powerful. It was a rush.

Rickey, 27, IT Consultant

I know of Rickey too. He was a Bodybuilding.com Spokesmodel Search finalist in 2017. Hashtag #rightreasons. I’m not sure how “online personal trainer” translates to IT consultant, but ok. Side note: I don’t think bodybuilders look good in suits so he might go home night one. 

Ryan, 26, Banjoist

Before the “Yanny or Laurel” debate there was the “Ryan or Brian” debate on After The Final Rose. Evidently the answer is Ryan. He’s the new Wells and I could not be more excited to watch this babe on my television screen. He plays at least four instruments and loves to sail. He also screams “family money” but it’s ok, we can mooch off his parents together.

Trent, 28, Realtor

Can you imagine having a child and naming it Trent? This guy never had a chance. He is a realtor and a part-time model (I swear I wrote the same thing a few contestants up) and has appeared on covers of romance novels, but I certainly wouldn’t call him the next Fabio.

Wills, 29, Graphic Designer

Wills is a graphic designer who loves Harry Potter. I see no problem here. Except for maybe his porno-stache.

Prediction corner: 

Welcome to the prediction corner where I never get anything right. Oh, you know what happens because you read spoilers? Please keep that information to yourself. I like to find out what happens on my own.

Without further ado, here are my baseless predictions:

First Impression Rose: The guys who got the First Impression Rose on the last three seasons became engaged to The Bachelorette. If that happens this year I demand a scientific case study to explain the power of first impressions on women. Anyway, I think Ryan gets it.

Season Villain: Jordan (that was easy)

Next Bachelor: Blake (don’t ask me why)

Winner: Garrett (I like him)

Comment below to let me know your early favorites!

#The Bachelorette #Becca Kufrin #abc #Arie Luyendyk #chris harrison #photo credit ABC

[nicotineandbikes]

Hot Summer Nights (Teen!Sam Drake)

Pairing: Teenage Sam Drake X OC Alex Carter [character name can be interchanged with any other]

Fandom: Uncharted

Date: 1994

Jeesh, my first post. This should be fun

•

"But I still love to wash in your old bathwater, love to think that you couldn't love another..." Alex sang along quietly to the song that played on the radio, lightening the mood around the small studio apartment. She squinted at the playing cards laid out before her. The fan settled atop the table she sat in front of cooled her skin, even with the terrible summer heat surrounding her. The windows had all been opened, but that didn't seem to help at all. From the bathroom, the sound of the shower slowly trickling to a stop, followed by what sounded like a crash floated out into the living room and she rolled her eyes. Not a moment later, Sam came tumbling out into the hall, with spikey, wet hair, wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts.

°

"I... uh... totally didn't break anything."

°

"Is that so?" she smiled, shaking her head and sitting back, looking up at him. "So what, did you slip again?"

°

"It's not my fault! The shower still leaks!" he defended himself, sitting down on the couch while rubbing his side. "We've got to get that fixed."

°

"We'll add it to the list."

°

He nodded and watched her play some type of game against herself with curiosity. "Jeesh... sure is a hot one tonight, huh?" he commented, already feeling the heat settle on his skin.

°

"You can say that again. This damn building needs to get air conditioning." She fanned herself with her hand. "I can't wait until we're out of this place."

°

"You said that two years ago at the orphanage," he grinned, folding his hands behind his head and reclining.

°

"What can I say, I like to keep moving," she shrugged. "We're we going to try to do dinner tonight or...?"

°

"We don't have anything?"

°

"See for yourself," she gestured to the tiny kitchen that made up the other half of the living room.

°

Sam sighed and got up, going over to the refrigerator and opening it to find three half empty bottles of Gatorade, a carton of milk which could very well be expired, a jar of sweet pickles, and two individually wrapped slices of cheese. "Do we have bread?" he asked her.

°

"Check the cabinet."

°

He did, finding a package of sliced wheat bread that was only a few days passed the expiration date. There were a few cans of things too. "Alright... what about grilled cheese and pickles?" he suggested, already getting out the bread and cheese and jar of pickles.

°

"Sounds delicious," she chuckled and joined him in the kitchen, tossing a match onto a burner and putting a pan over it.

°

"So... um... remember that job I told you about?" he asked, throwing a piece of bread onto the pan, followed by a slice of cheese, and more bread. He only got to her Alex's nod out of the corner of his eye. "Well... some things about it have been... changed."

°

"Changed?" she repeated. "In what way exactly?" Sam was quiet for a moment, scratching the back of his head nervously as he took out a blue energy drink from the refrigerator. "Sam?"

°

"The time. How long I'll be... gone," he said and took a sip. "I told you three months... it's more like eight now... And that's at the very most. You know those guys, they always ask for more time than they need. I'll be back before you know it. And I'm not leaving until the end of fall, so there's half a year for it to change again-" he rambled on until Alex cut him off.

°

"Sam, just stop," she shook he head. "When did all of this happen?"

°

"Uh... Friday Daniel came in with the papers." Alex's eyes turned sad and she looked down. "But, Alex, the pay is three times what I normally make in that time. This could be so good for us, we could get a better place, get Nate out of that orphanage..."

°

"Why didn't you ask me first?"

°

"I... look, I didn't sign anything yet, it's not final. I just... this is an opportunity I'm not gonna get again."

°

"And how exactly do you think your brother is going to react to this? Buttering him up with gifts is not going to make it better this time, Sam."

°

"I know... I know," Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair with a pained expression. "That's why I need you to stay and watch after him for me."

°

She stared at him for a moment, then forced a laugh passed her lips. "Oh, sure," she shook her head and turned back to the stove, carefully picking the sandwich up with her fingers and flipping it over.

°

"I'm not kidding," Sam told her seriously, leaning against the counter beside the cooker so that they faced each other. "It's out of town, not exactly in the best neighborhood."

°

"And this is a great neighborhood?" she scoffed. "You sure do make a lot of promise you can't keep, huh?" she muttered under her breath. "You can't just leave me here. We're in this together."

°

"I can keep this one. Alex, I swear I'll come back for you. I will," he said with all the sincerity her could muster. "You're right, we're in this together, and we're gonna get out of it together too. You, me, and Nathan. One more year and we are out of here, all of us."

°

Alex looked to the ground, turning her back to him and finishing cooking the sandwich. There was a napkin from a local fast food place on the counter which she put it on and handed it to him. It was clear that the conversation was over, so he took it and opened the sliding door to the balcony. There was an old potted plant that was beyond dead, and two plastic lawn chairs, one of which he took for himself, and he sat in silence, taking small bites of the meal. The sound of the city sounded like music to him, but not the good kind. The kind that made him realize that he had messed up again. The kind that made him want to sit down and cry all of his bottled up emotions out.

°

Alex lost her appetite. She threw the rest of the food back where it had come from, collected her cards and shoved them back into the box, and shut off the radio. All laughter, all the little jokes and smiles, they had been washed away in one swift second. Even that hot summer night, everything went dark and cold.

°

She looked around the cluttered apartment. The single twin bed shoved into a corner, old mixed coloured sheets and quilts strewn about it, with creaky springs that dug into their backs. The boxes filled with broken trinkets from the flea market. They had intended on fixing all those up and selling them. The couch was old too, still had that ugly blue green floral patterned fabric. The kitchen was empty, the wallpaper yellowed and counters scratched up, the stovetop rusted in some places. Their threadbare clothes were even tossed around carelessly. The whole place constantly reminded her of how much she had lost.

°

Alex once had a family. An amazing father, a devilish twin, a decent house, a school, a life. And then that all changed. Of course, she woudln't have met Sam if it all hadn't happened, and Sam was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her, even through it all. Even through their fights, through his cocky smirks, through her sarcastic jokes, they were still best friends. They'd still stick together no matter what.

°

Alex had already settled into the bed when Sam thought it safe to let himself back inside. She faced the wall, the fan now moved to the bedside table and blowing on the back of her neck. Quietly as he could, Sam locked both doors securely and entered the bathroom, turning on the sink and splashing the freezing cold water onto his face. He glanced up at his reflection in the mirror, at the water droplets sticking to his eyelashes and falling down his face. You've got to stop messing up like this Sammy boy. He turned all of the lights off before carefully slipping into bed beside Alex. He kicked the covers off of himself and laid on his back, facing the ceiling with one hand beneath his head and the other resting on her stomach as it rose and fell with each breath. It was still hot, but every inch of him felt cold.

°

"Sam?" Alex's voice whispered. It was muffled when it reached his ears since she wasn't facing him.

°

It startled him at first, but Sam quickly composed himself and gulped. "Yeah?"

°

"Are we okay?"

°

He chuckled. "I was about to ask you that."

°

Alex sighed and rolled over onto her other side so that she faced him. "Just promise me... when the time rolls around... that you'll be careful. I need you to not die, okay? I just... I really need that."

°

He turned his head so that he met her eyes. "Of course I will. I always am," he nodded. "And I really need you alive too. That's why I need you here where you're at least somewhat safe."

°

"I respect that."

°

"Thank you."

°

"And Sam?"

°

"Yes dear?"

°

"You know I only do this because I love you, right?"

"I love you too."

#sam drake #teen sam drake #uncharted #fanfic

[carolunea-matea]

Put Me In Coach

Chapter Thirteen

The Lieutenants came out of nowhere. They grabbed a man that Lunea recognized as Joseph. Her eyes narrowed. She had never trusted the man. Something was just off about him. He’s was pulled onto the platform and forced to his knees.

Negan leaned down and whispered into Lunea’s ear, “I would give fucking anything for you to not have to see this shit. But I need you to watch and I need you to at least act unphased. Now back up.”

Lunea backed up until she felt her hands brush the garbage barrel by the door, her gaze never leaving Joseph.

“I want you all to fucking witness what will happen if this shit happens again! I am DONE WITH THIS!”

With that Negan brought Lucille down full force on the traitor’s head. He didn’t stop until there was nothing left of his head.

“If any of you want to fucking leave, the gate is right fucking there! You can fucking go. Otherwise, today is a holiday! Dinner is free and everyone gets fucking desert! Now fucking go!”

Lunea stayed where she was, watching as what was left of the traitor was thrown to the walkers. She glanced at Negan. She waited until the courtyard was empty then she turned and threw up into the barrel behind her.

Negan was there rubbing her back.

“I’m fucking sorry you had to see that shit. But I need the people here to respect you, too. I need them to see that you are fucking strong. They all know I gave up the Wives for you. I cannot let them find a fucking weakness in you,” he pleaded for her to understand.

She stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Go get cleaned up. Meet me in the warehouse. There is still work to do,” Lunea squeezed his hand before walking away.

Once she got to the empty warehouse she threw herself into her work. Barking orders at the men to hurry up. When Negan arrived and they all fell to a knee she kept working.

“Get up! Ribbons?” She kept moving as he walked to her.

“Ribbons, are you ok?” He asked uncharacteristically softly.

“I need this pallet of weapons moved to the cage. Then I need this water brought to the Kitchen. Make sure Alex signs for it and marks it in the fucking log this time! This shit isn’t fucking rocket science, people! You bring something to someone, they sign for it. You stay until they mark it on their sheet and then YOU sign it! You all remember how to spell your fucking names? Or maybe you have fucking forgotten how to write? Move the fucking blankets and pillows to the fucking blue unit AS IT IS CLEARLY MARKED ‘BEDDING’!”

She gave Negan a look that clearly meant either help or get the fuck out because she wasn’t in the fucking mood. He leaned Lucille against the wall behind Lunea’s desk and threw his jacket over the chair.

“You heard the fucking woman! Move!”

Everyone scrambled to get their jobs done.

Five hours later the warehouse was back in order.

“Alright, we are fucking done here. I’m going to bed,” Lunea grabbed Negan’s jacket and walked out of the warehouse. She hugged it to her the entire way back to their room. Negan walked in behind her and started to ask her if she was ok again.

“Close the door,” she ordered without turning around.

“Ribbons, you’re fucking scaring me, doll,” he said as he turned to close the door.

As soon as Lunea heard it click shut she fell to her knees sobbing. Negan dropped Lucille and dropped to his knees next to Lunea.

“Oh, Princess. I am so fucking sorry. Jesus fucking Christ, come here,” he pulled her into his arms and she sobbed holding onto his shirt.

“Ribbons, you were fucking amazing. I am in awe of you. You held your fucking shit together. You got your shit fucking handled. You are fucking amazing.”

Once she calmed down, she looked up at Negan.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to breakdown like that,”

“Don’t you fucking apologize, Princess. You were fucking badass in the warehouse. None of those fucking men are going to fuck with you. By the end of the week no one in this place will. They will see you can fucking handle your shit. They saw you can handle ME! You aren’t a weakness to them. You are not to be fucked with on your own damn rights.”

“I was pretty badass.”

“Fuck yeah you were. How about I call down to the kitchen? Have them bring us some food and wine?”

“Rum.”

“What?”

“Food and Rum. You brought about a case of dark rum back and that is what I want. Rum”

“If my fucking Princess wants rum that is what she will fucking get!” Negan laughed.

“I’m going to go take a shower while you call down. I’ll be out in about 15 minutes.”

Lunea went over to her dresser and grabbed a wrapped package she had Frankie stash up there this afternoon. She showered and shaved everything before unwrapping the package. She pulled out the royal blue lace baby doll nightie with matching thong and pulled it on. She brushed her hair out before pulling it up and tying matching ribbons into it.

She peaked out the bathroom door and saw Negan laying in the bed with one leg bent and the other hanging off the side. He was busy reading a book when she came out of the bathroom and leaned against the door.

“Hey Coach, whatcha reading?”

“Just some old fucking, Holy god damn fuck!” He had finally looked up while she started to walk over. He stood up and covered the distance between them with two strides.

“You like it?”

“Fuck, Princess I never got so damn hard so damn fast before in my life! You are like sex on fucking legs”

Lunea blushed.

“I thought we could play a game tonight after dinner,” she practically purred in his ear while he bent to kiss her neck.

“Ribbons, I would do the fucking chicken dance naked in the cafeteria for you right now.”

She laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind. But I was thinking more ‘Truth or Dare’” she raised an eyebrow.

“That game that got you all in trouble at the 02 series?”

“One and the same, Coach.”

Negan bit his lip seeing where she was going. Just then there was a knock at the door, Lunea quickly threw her robe on while Negan went to answer it.

“The food you requested, Sir. And the rum.”

“Thanks, Alex!” You called out giving a wave.

“Y-you’re welcome, ma’am”

“Go!” Negan growled.

The young man all but ran from the room.

“Little girl, you are going to get yourself in some major trouble acting like that.”

“Like what, Coach? I’m starving! Let’s eat!” She sat down on the couch and drained her first glass of rum before eating. By the time they were finished she was on her third.

“Now, Ribbons, you were warned about having the boys’ team in your room playing truth or dare.”

“I know, Coach! But it’s fun and helped calm our nerves! Come on, play a few rounds with me and you’ll see how fun it is!”

“Ribbons, that doesn’t seem like a great idea. I am your coach.”

“Come on, Coach! Relax a little! You can even ask me first!”

“Ok ok. Truth or dare?”

“Hmmm…Dare!”

“I dare you to take that robe off.”

“Naughty, Coach! Ok your turn, truth or Dare?” She slid the robe off and dropped it on the floor.

“Fuck it, Dare.”

“I dare you to take your shirt off.”

“Now who is the naughty one? Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to take my pants off, Ribbons.”

She giggled as she moved over to his side of the couch and slowly undid his pants. Standing up in front of his she tugged them down as he lifted his hips to help.

She sat back down on her side of the couch and took another drink before continuing.

“Truth or Dare, Coach?”

“Truth.”

“How hard are you right now?”

He growled, “Oh very very hard, Ribbons. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

“Pull down those panties and show me how wet you are.”

Lunea let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She wiggled out of her thong and laid back on the couch. She spread her legs slightly to show Negan.

“I can’t tell, Ribbons.” He grabbed he ankles and pull her closer. Throwing one of her legs over the back of the couch and the other over his leg.

“Spread those lips, Princess. “

She moved her hand between her legs and spread open her outer lips.

“You bad girl! You’re practically dripping!”

“Truth or Dare, Coach?”

“Truth.”

“Are you having fun?”

“So much fun, Princess. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

“Let me watch you play with that wet pussy.”

Lunea let out a soft moan and started rubbing her clit. In slow lazy circles.

“Come on, Ribbons. Show me how you get yourself off while thinking about me.”

She rubbed faster while pushing her fingers inside. She bit her bottom lip, hips rocking against her own hands. Negan slid two fingers in with hers and helped her rub her G-spot. Slowed her down just as she was about to come.

“Get on the bed.”

“Wh-what?”

“Get on the bed now.” He stood up pulling her with him. Pulling her to him he reached down and picked her up. He laid her on the bed crawling in next to her. He slid his fingers back into her and slowly teased her clit. He could feel her slowly climb to an orgasm. Just as she started to squeeze his fingers he pulled away.

She whined in protest.

He pulled the fingers he had inside of her into his mouth and licked them clean.

She moaned at the sight.

“Fuck, Coach.”

“Nuh, uh! Not yet!”

He glided his fingers back in bringing her to the edge and stopping before she found her release.

“Coach! Please! I need to come!”

“No, you want to. I’ll get you to need it though.”

He brought her to the edge for what felt like an eternity, stopping before she was able to finish. Her body was quivering. He moved his face between her legs and started sucking on her clit, curling his fingers onto her g-spot. He brought her right to the edge one more time. Just when she thought she was going to lose her mind he started again. Moving faster sucking harder.

“Coach I’m going to, I’m, I’m!”

He let her let go. Squirting on his hand. He licked her clean and swiftly buried himself inside of her. She felt herself coming undone completely and he slowed.

“Coooach, please! You are driving me crazy!”

“You just look so fucking good coming completely undone.”

Their hips moved together as she tried to race him to her edge. He won and pulled away before she could finish.

“Ready, Baby?” He Began thrusting into her again letting her come completely undone. As she squeezed around him, calling out his name like a prayer, he came deep inside of her.

“Fuck! Lunea! God damn!” He dropped to his elbows leaning his forehead on hers.

“Damn, Ribbons! I didn’t even get this thing off of you!”

He rolled over pulling her to rest on top of him.

“There is always tomorrow,” she sighed happily before drifting off to sleep.

Negan held her while she slept. Baffled at how he got this fucking lucky.

Right before he drifted off to sleep, he whispered, “I cannot fucking live without you, I love you.”

Chapter 12   Chapter 14

Master List

@neganandblake

@likearaindropfilledwithgoldust 

@negans-network

@ask-kakashihatake

@idk-wtf-is-happening

@collette04

#negan smut #negans network #the walking dead negan #twd negan #negan fic #negan x oc #negan fanfiction #negan

[argyle-s]

The Shape of Things to Come Chapter 3/?

Rating:  Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

After a year in the past, Kara makes her public debut as Supergirl.

Chapter 3 - Rebirth

Notes:

In this story, Kara will occasionally lapse into Kryptonian. The first instance of this happens in this chapter. The Kryptonian in this story is taken from Doyle Kryptonian which is where most of the Kryptonian used on the show is taken from. Translation was done using the resources at Kryptonian.info, and I suspect the quality of the translation will vary widely.

In the earlier drafts of this story, I either didn’t use Kryptonian, or I wrote the sections in English and set it off using special formatting, but I was unhappy with that, so I went back and rewrote them in Kryptonian. The problem with that is, the Kryptonian sections were written out of order and my skill with the language (such as it is) has improved considerably over time.

I’ve tried to go back and fix any errors, but:

1). The dictionary is fragmentary and I’ve had to work around holes in the language, or when I couldn’t, construct new words with guesswork.

2). I am absolute shit at learning languages that are whole and functional, so one that only exists in fragmentary form is even worse.

Any errors are mine. Any weirdness with the language and phrasing is either me being an idiot, or an artifact of my take on how Kryptonian culture and religious beliefs would influence speech patterns. My Krypton sticks as close as possible to the show, but I have made huge changes from comic canon to make Krypton fit more closely with our current understanding of what the reality of life would be on a planet in order around a red sun.

Most translations are fairly literal translations, though the order of the words is different, because English uses a Subject Verb Object sentence structure, whole Kryptonian uses Verb Subject Object sentence structure (example: The sentence "Kara punched Maxwell Lord" would be "Punched Kara Maxwell Lord" in a Verb Subject Object language like Kryptonian). In some cases however, the meaning in English can vary from the literal translation. In those cases, I will give the literal translation first, followed by the Semantic Translation.

Two final notes.

1). I take it as a given that Alex speaks Kryptonian, because she grew up with Kara, and she spent two years fiddling with Kara's pod and the hologram, and anything in canon that says she doesn't will be cheerfully ignored because it's bullshit.

2). Kara *does* know how to swear, but she’s only good at it in Kryptonian.

Update: This story has now been betaed by @ifourmindbeso.  Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Kara Danvers’ Apartment. National City. Earth 38, October 8th, 2015

(One Year Later)

Kara opened the door to find a very annoyed J’onn standing there, glaring at her.

“Good morning,” she said brightly, waving him in.  She walked over to the kitchen and pulled down a package of Chocos and a glass, which she filled with milk.

“You do realize the DEO is not eHarmony for aliens, right?”

“Compatible Partners,” Kara said as she took a bite out of her pre-breakfast bagel.

“What?” J’onn asked as he picked up a cookie and dunked it in the milk.

“eHarmony only does listings for straight people.  Compatible Partners is the one for Gays and Lesbians.  Besides, I use Chemistry.com.”

“I don’t care if you used gayalienbootycall.com.  This arrangement is not so you can vet your dates.”

Kara sighed.  “J’onn, I am not *dating* Maggie Sawyer.  We’re just friends.”

“Oh, so you aren’t meeting her tonight at some place called Girlbar?”

“Well, yes, I am.  But I don’t date women who are still heartbroken over their ex-girlfriends.  Think of it as recruitment.”

J’onn held up his finger and started to say something, then stopped.  He started to speak again, but stopped, before finally just shaking his head.  “First you wanted me to do a full security clearance on that little computer nerd.  Now this.  How does any of this help us with your friends from Fort Rozz?”

“Winn helps because Winn is one of only six or seven hackers on the planet that can go toe to toe with a Coluan and come out on top, and unless you’ve suddenly managed to convince Victor Stone, Felicity Smoak or Rabiah Zinoman to sign up, we don’t have a lot of other options, because Tim Drake and Barbara Gordon are serious no-fly zones and the other two people who could potentially pull this off are definitely not on our side.  Maggie Sawyer, on the other hand, will give us an in with NCPD, which is going to be incredibly useful when it comes time to lay the smack down on Maxwell Lord.”

“You know, you keep talking like you’re in this fight, but so far, all you’ve done is sit on the sidelines and feed us a few names.”

“You’re mad about the armored car last night,” Kara said.

“You’re damn right I am.  Two agents in the hospital.  One of them may never walk again.  You could have stopped it, but instead, you’re fetching coffee for some-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, J’onn,” Kara said.  “You know nothing about Cat Grant and much as I like you, if you insult her in front of me, I will put your green ass through a wall.”

J’onn sighed and held up his hands in surrender.  “Fine.”

“Besides, you’re every bit as capable as I am, and you didn’t do anything to stop it either.  We both have our reasons for keeping secrets.”

“Yeah, but your case is a little different.”

“It is,” Kara said.  “But it would expose me while the leader of the escapees was away.  If that happened, there would have been open war in the streets.”

J’onn sat down on one of her stools and picked up another Choco, dunking it in his milk.  “You keep talking about this leader like you know him.”

“Her,” Kara said.

J’onn froze, with the cookie half way to his mouth.  His eyes narrowed.  “You do know her.”

“I do.  General Astra In-Ze, War Leader of the House of Ze, Daughter of In-Ze and Myara Bar-Ul, and twin sister of Alura Zor-El.”

“She’s your aunt?” J’onn said.

“Yes,” Kara said.

J’onn popped the cookie in his mouth and started chewing, and Kara watched the emotions playing over his face.

“I didn’t tell you until now, because I thought you might decide I was a security risk.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because this is the last thing I need from you before I openly declare myself.  Once Alex is safely out of the way in Geneva, little Kara Danvers is going to take the first of Astra’s heavy hitters off the board.”

“You have a plan?” J’onn asked.

“I do.  You’re probably not going to like it, but I do.”

He reached up and started rubbing his temples.  “What else is new?”

***

She smiled at Winn as he approached her with his tablet, walking beside her on her way to her desk.

“Did you see this?  There was an armored car robbery last night.  Now, there were no witnesses except this homeless guy who swears the perp had horns.”

“Thanks,” Kara said as she excepted a shipping tube from Brad with the proof of the new bus stop poster Cat needed to approve.

“Like, on his head,” Winn said as she turned back to him.

“Well, that’s usually where horns go,” she said.  “But you’re sure it wasn’t just a prominent brow ridge?

“Come on Kara, it’s an alien.”

“I don’t know, Winn.  I mean, Superman’s an alien, right?  He seems to look pretty normal.”

“Well, how do we know?  He could be hiding anything under that suit.”

Kara shrugged.  “Isn’t James Olsen taking over the art department today?  Maybe we could ask him.  They seem close.”

“Now you’re just making fun me.”

Kara shook her head as she sat down.  “Never.  Well, except for when you lose at Small World.”

“Hey, your sister cheats.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Fine,” Winn said, as he went over to his desk and sat down, pointedly turning his back to her, which gave her just enough privacy to zap Cat’s Latte with her heat vision.  “I won’t invite you to go see ‘The Martian’ with me then.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to her.

“I can’t,” Kara said.  “Maggie and I are going to Girlbar.”

“Really?” Winn said, a grin on his face.  “When are you gonna introduce me to your hot cop girlfriend?”

“Winn,” Kara sighed.  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Winn shook his head.  “I never should have started you on Rizzoli & Isles.  Now I’m destined to lose my gaming buddy to some tall, dark Italian Detective with a smoky voice.”

Kara laughed.  “I told you I’m into blondes, but the medical examiner thing is just icky.  Besides, Maggie is Latina and shorter than you are, which is saying something since I’m pretty sure you get carded going into PG-13 movies”

“That hurts,” Winn said, putting his hand over his heart.  “That really hurts, Kara.”

“You were asking for it, standing there, being so short.”  She paused for a moment, then looked up.  “She’s here,” she said as she stood up, picking up her tablet and Cat’s Latte.

The elevator door opened, and Kara’s heart gave the same small little flutter that it always did when she saw Cat.

“Good morning, Ms. Grant,” she said, letting every bit of the happiness she felt come through.  She’d been in the past for a year, and seeing Cat walk off that elevator never got old.

She saw the small tug of a smile that pulled at Cat’s lips before she started on her tirade.  “The only reason I bought this building is because it has a private elevator.  That way, I don’t have to get soaked in cheap cologne every morning getting to my office.  Find out who used it, and have them reprimanded, or bathed.  I don’t care which.”

Kara just nodded as she followed Cat into her office.  “Here’s your Latte, Ms. Grant.  Hot.”

Cat took it from her.  “As always,” she said.  “I have a meeting with the board today at lunch, so cancel sushi with my Mother.”

“Got it.  Should I also cancel your therapist, since you aren’t seeing your Mother?”

“Good idea, Keira,” she said, then took a sip of the Latte. “Hmmm…  This tastes different.”

“Noonan’s was out of hazelnut so I got you almond instead.  I hope that’s okay.”

“I don’t hate it, but do have a talk with the management down there.  If they’re going to take up space in CatCo plaza, they should at the very least be able to keep their supplies stocked.  Also, I’ve emailed you a list.  Prepare termination letters for the Tribune as noted.”

“Oh.  Ms. Grant, I’ve been thinking about that and I’d like to make a recommendation.”

“You’ve been thinking about a decision you knew nothing about until ten seconds ago?” Cat asked.

“I’ve been thinking about it since the financials came in back in January.  The Daily Planet’s the only print newspaper that isn’t taking a beating, and that’s pretty much entirely Superman’s doing.  They put him on the cover something like fifty-three percent of the time.”

“Are you going to tell me something I don’t know, Keira?”

Kara nodded her head.  “Well, we already do a lot of content sharing with digital, but I was thinking, why not merge the Tribune with digital entirely and try doing an interactive newspaper.”

“And how, exactly would that work?”

“A smartphone app.  We could put QR codes at the end of each story, which link up to a digital expansion of the story.  It’s sort of a hybrid monetization model.  Digital gets the basic story for free, but people who buy the tribune get free access to the expanded story content, but digital-only users have to subscribe to get the expanded content.”

“Hmmm…  That’s actually an interesting idea, but it doesn’t solve the immediate issues with circulation and it will increase the editorial load.”

“Not if we’re sharing the content across digital and print.  We can even tie in to broadcast by including video segments as part of the expanded articles behind the pay wall.  And the best part is, we can do a hybrid subscription model as well.  Customers can choose to watch an ad before the video segment and have inline ads embedded in the expanded article, or they can pay for the content to get it ad free.  We’d have to eat the losses on the Tribune while we restructured and built out the new workflow, but it would save a lot of jobs and we’d be ahead of the curve on digital and print integration.”

Cat stared at her for a minute, then nodded.  “Hold off on the letters for now.  Type this up as a proposal and go get me the layouts from the new art director.”

Kara grinned. “The proposal is already in your drop box.  I added it last night.  I’ll go get you the layouts now, Ms. Grant.”

***

She stepped into James’ office with no small amount of trepidation.  Her relationship with James was one of the biggest regrets of her previous life.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t been attracted to him.  She liked guys well enough, from a purely physical stand point.  She mainly told people she was a lesbian because homoromantic bisexual was confusing to a lot of them and that was before she even got into questions of species.  The problem with James was, she’d been more in love with the idea of him than she had been with him and James had been more in love with his idea of her than with her.  Things might have gone differently if they’d gotten together before Myriad and her death ride with Fort Rozz, but that day had changed something inside Kara.  It had burned away so much of what Eliza and Jeremiah and society in general had saddled her with in terms of expectations of who and what she wanted to be and left a truer, purer version of herself behind.  Her feelings for James had been part of that, but it had resulted in a lot of awkwardness and hurt feelings on James’s part.

It didn’t matter, because Kara was determined not to not make the same mistakes again.  No dating James and no Battle of CatCo plaza, either.

“Mr. Olsen, are you here?” Kara asked.

“I’ll be just a minute,” came a muffled voice.

Kara stepped a bit further into the office, and spotted James digging through a pile of boxes.

“I’m just here for the layouts,” she said.  “If you tell me where they are, I’ll get out of your way.”

“No trouble.  Just let me finish here and I’ll get them for you.”  He looked up from the box of trophies and plaques he was going through and stopped for a moment.  “Hey,” he said as he stood up.  “I’m the new guy.”

Kara nodded.  “James Olsen, I know.  Clark speaks very highly of you,” she said.

“You know Clark?” he asked.

“Of course.  Oh,” she stuck out her hand.  “Sorry, I’m Kara Danvers.  Clark’s my cousin.”  She saw a bit of surprise in his face, probably at the idea that Kara would be so open about their relationship.  “Don’t tell anybody though.  Cat would probably think I’m spying for the Planet if she knew.”

James laughed and took her hand, shaking it.  “Now that does sound like the Cat Grant I know.”

Kara looked over, and let herself smile as she caught sight of the print of James’ photo of Kal.  “And there’s the photo,” she said, letting go of James’s hand, and stepping around him.  “You do good work.  This almost looks like he posed for it.”

“He did,” James said.  “Don’t tell anyone though.  They might take away my Pulitzer.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Kara said as she lifted the print.  “I’ve got to ask.  What what’s he really like?”

This time James smiled, and Kara wanted to kick herself for not seeing the way he felt written on his face the first time they’d had this conversation.  “He’s everything you want him to be and more.  I mean…” He chuckled.  “I was scared to move out here, but, uh, he told me the biggest risk was never taking any, so…”

  Kara nodded and looked down at the print again, running her fingers over the image of her baby cousin in all his heroic glory.  It was easy to let the longing shine through.  She hadn’t seen Clark since she came back, and before that, he’d been dead for years in her personal timeline.

“Take it.”

“Hmmm?” she said, looking up at James.

“Take it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Kara smiled.  “Thank you.”  She looked down at the print for another moment, then back up at James.  “Layouts?”

“Oh,” he said.  “Yeah.”  He picked them up off the light table and handed them to her.  “Nice to meet you, Kara Danvers.”

“And you, James Olsen,” she replied, taking the layouts.  “I’d better get these back before Ms. Grant fires someone.”

***

In the year since Kara’s trip back from the future, she’d mostly avoided dating.  She hadn’t done it at all in the first month or so, but Eliza had kept hounding her.  Finally, during Thanksgiving Dinner, she’d just told Eliza she didn’t want to be set up on a blind date with her old college roommate’s son because she didn’t want to date men at all.  That had gotten Eliza to back off for exactly two weeks.

It wasn’t terrible, but Kara always felt a little guilty since the dates weren’t going anywhere.  She wasn’t really over Sara and the Supergirl thing was coming.  She knew what that would do to any potential relationship.  She dated mostly to humor Eliza, and to help Alex keep Eliza off her back.  She’d actually made a  handful of casual friends she hung out with now and then and she’d managed to talk Cat into adding an LGBT-focused section to the CatCo website and to the magazine, which had done so well Cat was considering launching three topic-focused print magazines, and five topic-focused websites.

Maggie, though, had been one of the few good things that had come out of the dating thing.  She knew the woman from the previous timeline of course and never would have agreed to a date with her, because dating your sister’s future wife was surely against some rule somewhere.  But she’d been sitting in a bar, nursing her third virgin strawberry daiquiri after one of her Eliza-arranged blind dates had failed to show, when Maggie had sat down next to her and ordered a whiskey.

Kara couldn’t believe her luck.  She’d struck up a conversation and for the last four months, she’d spent almost as much time with Maggie as she did with Winn.  There wasn’t anything romantic about it, mostly because of the future Kara had lived through, but also because Maggie had been going through a long and nasty break-up with a girl named Darla, so Kara had spent a lot of time being a shoulder to cry on.

It hadn’t even really been much of a decision to bring Maggie into the fold earlier than before, because Maggie was amazing.

Tonight though, was something Kara had arranged carefully.  She’d checked to make sure the bar had TVs that ran local stations so she’d get the news.  She’d also set up news alerts for flight 237 Geneva and National City Airlines and directed them to her burner phone.  The driver’s license in her purse was a duplicate, and the glasses she was wearing were a pair of cheap reading glasses she’d picked up at a Walgreens.  The purse had a few other odds and ends in it.  A spare lipstick, and a tube of lip gloss, a half empty tin of breath mints, a couple of tampons, an expired can of pepper spray left over from her college days.  A couple of Noonan’s receipts, a bit of loose change, 62 dollars in cash, and a prepaid debit card.  Nothing she couldn’t afford to lose, on the off-chance Maggie reacted poorly to finding out she was an alien without almost a year of history as Supergirl under her belt, but enough that it looked like it was Kara’s actual purse.

The whole thing would look careless to Maggie, like she was in a blind panic.  Maggie, being Maggie, would try to return the purse and that would give Kara a way to induct her into team Supergirl.

She spotted the woman sitting at a table, checking her watch.  When she looked up, her eyes fell on Kara, and Kara waved as she walked over.

“Hey, Maggie,” she said as she dropped into the seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said.  “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Kara replied.  “Not too bad yourself.”

“How’s Cat treating you?”

“Oh, you know.  Same old, same old.  It’s a good week though.  She’s only fired me twice.”

Maggie laughed.  “Only you would consider that a good week.”

Kara shrugged.  “It’s not like it ever sticks.”

“What’s the count up to?” Maggie asked.

“One hundred and ninety-eight.  Looks like Kelly from fashion is going to win the pool.”

“I bet Winn will be disappointed.”

“Probably,” Kara said.  “How’s the X-Files treating you?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old.  Men in black apparently abducted a birdman in Chinatown last night, and a Klingon with a glowing axe jumped the fence at the airport.”

“Sounds like a fun week,” Kara said, but she felt a small moment of worry.  The Klingon with the glowing axe sounded a little too close to Vartox for comfort.

“Yeah.  One more day and it’s over,” she said.

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“Not really,” Maggie said.

Kara rolled her eyes.  “You are not going to sit at home and mope over she who will not be named.”

“I’m not moping,” Maggie said.

“No, you’re not.  We’ll do something.”

“Like what?”

“There’s a women’s volley ball tournament down at National City Beach this weekend.  We could go watch.”

“More like go so you can drool over the players.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of me being your wing woman.”

“Kara, you would make the worst wing woman in history.”

“I would not!”

“Oh, do not give me those puppy dog eyes.  No one is going to take a second look at me if you’re there.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d let me introduce you to my sister.”

“Your sister is straight,” Maggie shot back.

Kara snorted.  “My sister is in denial,” she replied.  “Trust me, she’d take one look at you and there would be an Alex-shaped hole in the closet door.”

“I’ll pass on the sister and the volleyball.  Seriously, I-”

Kara held up her hand as she turned around.

“If you’re just joining us, shortly after take-off, National City Airlines, Flight 237 bound for Geneva is experiencing some loss of altitude.  The pilot seems to be circling the city after apparent engine failure.”

Kara turned back to Maggie as she pulled open her purse, and took out two twenties.  “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” she said as she threw the money on the table.

“What?  Why?”

“That’s my sister’s flight,” Kara said as she started towards the door.  She didn’t wait to see if Maggie followed her.  She didn’t need to.  She heard the scrape of the feet of the bar stool as Maggie stood up.  Heard the sound of the soles of her shoes hitting the ground.  Felt the disturbance in the air as Maggie chased after her.

Kara moved more slowly than she could have.  She knew she had time to spare.  She’d picked the bar because it was along the flight path, and this time, she was neither out of practice flying, nor was she unfamiliar with the aircraft in question.  She was already pulling her jacket off as she ducked into the alley, and she could sense Maggie coming around the corner as she tossed it aside.  She ripped off the cheap drug store glasses and threw them in the same direction as the jacket as she ran, then she bent her knees and kicked off.

She nearly laughed when she heard Maggie scream, “Holy shit.”

Then she put everything out of her head but the task at hand.

She approached faster this time, her flight skills fresh and practiced from her regular runs out to Sanctuary, which is what she’d named her own not so little Fortress of Solitude.  When the engine broke free, instead of plowing through it and showing the city with flaming debris, she caught it, and with a deft spin and shove, sent it splashing down gently into the bay.  She wasted no time trying to push against the wing.  Instead, she flew up under the plane and punched through the skin, grabbing the frame member tightly, and pushing up.  There was no desperate turn to keep the wings from getting clipped.  The plane cleared Otto Bender Bridge easily, and then Kara started a slow, gentle turn.  The plane cleared the bridge a second time, before Kara guided it down gently into the water.

Once it had settled into the water, she kept pushing, sliding it along the surface, using her x-ray vision to make sure she didn’t hit anything until she ran it aground near the I-210 off ramp for National City Bay Beach.  Once the nose of the plane was pushed up on dry land, Kara let go of the plane, and swam out, climbing up on the right wing.  She stood, watching through the skin of the plane as people took movies and snap shots, before she gave Alex a nod through the window, and shot into the sky.

***

Kara had gone back to the alley, not at all surprised to find her purse, jacket and glasses gone.  She’d known Maggie wouldn’t leave them.  She’d been a bit worried she’d find the detective at her door, but as luck would have it, she was alone.  She’d showered, eaten an order of fifty buffalo wings, and was most of the way through her large supreme pizza, while watching the news coverage.

“The passengers of Flight 237 appear to have a guardian angel.  When, what many report to be a female flying form rescued them from certain death.”

“Leyna Nguyen is live at the scene.”

“Thank you, Rick.  Guardian Angel would appear to be right.  Not only did she rescue the passengers from a tragic end, but reports also indicate that she caught one of the plane’s engines as it broke free and kept it from falling on the city, and prevented the plane from hitting Otto Bender Bridge not once, but twice.  Then, after setting the plane down in National City Bay, she pushed the plane up on shore, making rescue efforts and clean-up easier and much safer.”

“Oh, my god,” Alex said.

Kara hopped up from her spot on the couch and hugged her sister, careful not to bruise her this time.  She stepped back, holding Alex by her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She watched as Alex rubbed her forehead, and did her best not to sigh.  She knew what was coming, and she’d been dreading this part of the night.

“Let me get you a drink,” she said.  She walked over to her small kitchen and poured Alex a glass of the Johnny Walker Blue Label Alex kept at her apartment.  She put the glass in Alex’s hand, and waited for her to drink it.

“So, let’s hear it,” Kara said.

“Hear what?” Alex asked.

“The part where you yell at me for exposing myself to the world, and tell me I can never use my powers again.”

“It sounds like you already know what I’m going to say,” Alex said.

Kara nodded.  “You know, given how much you complain about Eliza, you sound just like her.” It was a low blow, and Kara knew it, but the flinch from Alex still made her wish it hadn’t been necessary.

“Because she’s right about this, Kara,” Alex said.  “It’s not safe.  What if people figure out who you are?  What you are?”

“Then they figure it out.  I didn’t travel two thousand light years to be an assistant my whole life.  I had a mission, and maybe, yeah, it was already over when I got here, but that doesn’t change who I am.  /.nahn khuhp w ,kahrah,zor,ehl  .nahn khuhp w tiv inah ewuhshehd im ,kryptahnium,  .nahn khuhp w aonah wukhaiiu zrhythrev ,ehl,/  My mother was Alura In-Ze, the chief Adjudicator of Argo, my Aunt was Astra In-Ze, a General and the War Leader of the House of Ze.  I am the granddaughter of In-Ze, Myara Bar-Ul, Seg-El and Nimda An-Dor and descended in direct line from Erok-El and from the War Queens of the House of Ze.”

“Do you know what that means?  My people, my culture, my entire world may be dead, but I am still a child of Rao.  /.nahn ,rao, i chahvehd shokhpahs w pahdh tiv aorghahs ni waila/  I have not forgotten, and I will not bring shame to my house by hiding who I am like some coward.  There are people out there who need me.  People who I can help.  If that means I have to take a few risks, then I will take those risks.”

“Kara-“

Kara held up her hand.  “No.  No, you should go.  Go home, get some rest.  Get used to the idea that this is happening.”

Alex huffed, in that special way all big sisters have when they want to let their little sister know they’re being annoying and unreasonable.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Alex said.

Translated from the Kryptonian:

.nahn khuhp w ,kahrah,zor,ehl I am Kara Zor-El

.nahn khuhp w tiv inah ewuhshehd im ,kryptahnium, I am the last daughter of Krypton

.nahn khuhp w aonah wukhaiiu zrhythrev ,ehl, I am the eldest child of the house of EL

nahn ,rao, i chahvehd shokhpahs w pahdh tiv aorghahs ni waila Rao’s first law is to make the universe whole.

#supergirl #supercat #supercanary #sanvers #fanfiction #the shape of things to come #kara danvers #alex danvers #cat grant #maggie sawyer #sara lance #j'onn j'onzz #susan vasquez #lois lane #clark kent #james olsen #winn schott jr. #future shock #kara speaking kryptonian #kara speaking kryptonian angrily

[karamelsecretsanta]

Birthday Promises

Happy Christmas, @sweetestkaramel! I hope that this story warms your heart just as it had warmed mine writing it :)

-- Bilge @busysciencegeek

——-

You lift my feet off the ground You spin me around You make me crazier, crazier Feels like I’m falling and I am lost in your eyes You make me crazier, crazier, crazier

- Crazier by Taylor Swift

——-

Kara had always been an early bird. Yes, even when she was in high school. Granted, she had to admit that there had been a time she would sleep in as long as possible, but with her ambitious goals and rigorous study schedule, lately any day she woke up later than nine became a good day for her.

Today being a Saturday, and her birthday, didn’t change anything. She’d still woken up around eight thirty and was in kitchen now, preparing herself celebratory pancakes for her birthday.

She poured a batch of the batter into the pan as she turned on her phone, looking at the several birthday texts sent right after midnight. She might think that her friends were a bit crazy sometimes, but she also had to admit they were the best friends she could ever ask for.

She couldn’t help herself as her finger hovered over a certain person’s name. The first person that sent her a birthday message—but of course. She could almost imagine him writing the text, counting down the seconds until the clock hit midnight, and immediately sending it. A text filled with all kinds of emojis, from gift packages to birthday cakes, from celebratory confetti to…hearts. Blue hearts, red hearts, green hearts, yellow hearts sprinkled inside the message, every one of them tugging at something in her chest.

Damn you, Mon-El, she thought as she put her phone to the side. Why do you have to be so adorable and make it hard not to fall for you? He was just…too amazing. He was not only kind and generous, but he also wasn’t afraid to be nice, not like all the other guys. He embraced his dorky and fun side. He just… He wasn’t afraid to be himself, and after being around too many fake people, that was so refreshing for Kara.

No wonder she’d fallen for him.

She almost wanted to sigh at that thought. Yes, she’d fallen for her best friend. Yes, it was as pathetic as it sounded. And yes, she could never tell him about it, because it would not only be embarrassing—how could she be so stupid to fall in love with her best friend?—but she couldn’t risk their friendship. She could live without his love, but she couldn’t live without his friendship.

She sighed as she focused on the pancakes, flipping the last one to her plate before she turned off the stove. She refused to think about her desperate love for Mon-El on her birthday. This was supposed to be a happy day, right?

Right. So she plopped down on the couch, turned on the TV to a cheesy reality show, and mouthed the delicious pancake—the only thing she was able to cook without making a mess of everything. As long as it was good, right?

Someone knocked on her door right as she’d finished her breakfast and dumped her plate in the sink. She frowned. Who could’ve come at this hour? On a Saturday, no less?

She cleaned her hands and made her way to the door. “Coming!” Could it be her parents? But they would let her know if they were coming to National City all the way from Midvale. As special as her birthday was, she didn’t think it was worth a fifteen hour drive. Alex? But she’d been working the night shift at the hospital yesterday, so she doubted her sister would wake up so early.

But then who—

She was greeted by a giant box covering someone’s face when she opened the door. A giant box with a…was that the picture of a VR set?

Before she could consider that, a familiar face with a huge smile poked out from behind the box. “Happy birthday!” Mon-El sang out, his voice ringing in the empty hallway, probably waking a couple of people too. He was that loud.

Yet she wasn’t in a position to care about that. “Mon-El?” she asked as she stepped back to let him in, her eyes still on the VR set. It couldn’t be the one Mon-El had at his house, since it looked brand new. But…he couldn’t have bought her a VR set for her birthday, right? Those things were freaking expensive. And yes, she might’ve said here and there that it was so cool Mon-El had one for himself, but she didn’t say it so that he would buy it to her!

“What are you doing here?”

“Celebrating your birthday,” Mon-El said nonchalantly as he dropped the VR set on the kitchen island before he turned to face her. “I wanted to be the first person to celebrate it face-to-face, and knowing you wake up early, I wasn’t about to take my chances. So…” A huge grin pulled his lips, as if he knew he was successful. And…well, he was. He was the first person to text her for her birthday, and now, the first person to come and celebrate. “How did I do?”

Kara couldn’t help rolling her eyes at that. “Egoistical much?” she asked, even though her eyes were focused on the VR box. Mon-El just chuckled.

“I’m taking that as a yes. Even though you seem more interested in your gift than me right now.” He rested his elbow on the box…and yes, there was definitely a smug glint in his eyes. As if he was so proud of what he’d gotten her—

Wait, did he just say that this was her gift? “My…gift?”

“Yup.” He patted the box lightly. “A brand new Oculus Rift VR headset, also equipped with hand controllers and a sensor.” He lifted the other two bags in his hand. “Oh, and let’s not forget the two games I got you. Batman Arkham, because I know you are an absolute sucker for superheroes, and this brand new horror game that I’m sure you’ll like. I remember you enjoying the ones at my house.”  

Kara’s eyes widened at his words. She tried to do the math in her head—she had searched just how much VR sets cost before. She remembered them being at least 300-400 dollars, and with all the other things that he got… The whole thing couldn’t have cost less than 500 dollars. It was way too expensive, considering the only thing she’d gotten him for his birthday was the signed first edition of one of his favorite books. Granted, that hadn’t been easy to find, but it hadn’t been this expensive.

“Mon-El, I—“

“Don’t tell me that you won’t accept them,” he stopped her before she could get far. “It’s too late. They’re all bought and paid for.”

“But I can’t. They’re incredibly expensive,” she insisted. “It’s just… It’s just my birthday. It’s too much.”

“You know my parents are incredibly rich, Kara. This wouldn’t have even created a dent in their bank account.” He reached forward to guide her eyes to his face. “And besides, you’re my best friend. No amount of money I can spend for you would be too much.”

He looked so genuine as he said those words, as if he believed them wholeheartedly. As if she was truly the most special person in the world for him, and he would get her everything she wanted, even if that meant he’d have to spent hundreds of dollars. Her heart swelled in her chest with happiness and gratitude, and love, even though she’d never confess the last one. She blinked her tears away as she smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Okay. You might be right. But I’ll only accept this in one condition.” Mon-El arched his brow.

“Oh no. Should I be scared?”

“Maybe,” she mused with a smile, taking one step towards him and putting her hand on the VR set. “We’ll try this baby today, you and me, and no backing down from the horror game. Or else you can pack your bags and go home.”

Mon-El narrowed his eyes with that challenge, especially because he hated VR horror games. Well, he hated all kinds of horror games, and that was exactly why it was so fun to watch him try and play one. She smiled at him sweetly.

He had to finally cave in. “Fine. But if I faint, it’ll be your fault.” Excitement fluttered in Kara’s chest.

“Deal.”

——

Kara looked around the room, so dark that she could barely see what was in front of her, as she tightened her hands around the VR consoles as if they were her lifeline. She knew, deep down, that none of this was real. She knew that she was in a game, she knew that behind the VR headset was her room, but that was really hard to think about when all she saw when she looked around was creepy silhouettes and claustrophobic walls, and all she heard was a creepy horror game music.

“What was I looking for again?” she asked Mon-El, her voice thin with fear. She could hear his light chuckle coming from her couch, even though she couldn’t see him.

“A phone. You need it to ask for help.” She narrowed her eyes as she pointed her console to teleport about two feet in front of her. Luckily, nothing jumped out of anywhere.

“Why am I not getting the hell out of this house, like, right now?” She spun around when she thought she heard a crash…which turned out to be nothing. But who could blame her for being paranoid? She could die at any second.

Mon-El, at least, had the decency to try to muffle his laugh this time. “Because the ghost locked everything up. And I don’t think the game gives you the choice to break the windows.”

“Great,” Kara muttered under her breath as she made a sweep of the room around her yet again. “Just great— Shit!” A scream escaped her mouth when she saw a silhouette resembling a person. She knelt down, curling up in a ball, not even having it in her to fight if the silhouette was a ghost. She didn’t even remember shutting her eyes…until she opened them and realized it was only a lamp.

Damn this game. Damn everything.

She heard that Mon-El was laughing his ass off only when her thundering heart calmed down and she could start functioning again. She scowled at him, even though he couldn’t even see her eyes…and she didn’t know where he was exactly. She pointed at a random direction.

“Shut up! Don’t you dare laugh.” She forced herself to take several deep breaths. “You have no idea how scary this game is.”

“I actually do.” He almost sounded smug, and he chuckled again when Kara frantically spun around. She was pretty sure she looked crazy from outside. “I have this game at home.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her voice was shaking as she teleported to the hall she saw in front of herself. God, why the hell this damn game was so dark? “And how long did it take you to finish it?”

“I…” His voice trailed off briefly. “I didn’t. I gave up after fifteen minutes.”

“Ha!” Kara whirled around again, pointing at where she hoped Mon-El was, “it’s been twenty minutes since I started playing. I’m already beating you—“ That was when she turned to look behind her, and the ghost just popped up literally out of nowhere. Her scream interrupted her words as she stumbled back, tripping over the carpet. She was so dead, oh, she was so dead—

Two arms caught her before she could fall on the ground and softened her fall. The utter darkness around her might’ve scared her to literal death, if it hadn’t been for those two arms. She reached for the VR set and removed it with shaky hands.

She found Mon-El kneeling down right in front of her, one of his hands on her shoulder to steady her. He offered her a small smile. “I got you.”

A relieved laugh escaped from her lips. Finally, finally she’d escaped that horrific game and was back in the real world. Finally, she felt like she could breathe—

Well, okay, she actually couldn’t breathe at that exact second, because Mon-El’s hand had moved from her shoulder to her neck, his fingers brushing her bare skin, and it was hard to even think. Her eyes snapped to his, only to find him looking at her…lips.

Her heart rate spiked immediately, and she forgot how to breathe entirely. Mon-El was looking at her in such an intense way that she doubted she could move, even if she actually felt her muscles. She’d dreamed about him looking at her like this way too frequently than she’d like to admit. With passion, with want, and need, but most of all…love. He was looking at her with love.

Though there was also something vaguely familiar with it too. And no, it wasn’t that she’d looked at him that way in the past. She remembered very clearly it wasn’t the first time he was staring at her this way. She’d caught him looking at her before like this too, and just dismissed it as wishful thinking. But maybe…maybe it wasn’t wishful thinking. Maybe what she felt for him wasn’t stupid. Maybe…

He felt exactly the same way, too.

She didn’t know whether it was her that moved first, or it was him, but then they were both leaning in, and Kara felt her eyes flutter close before her lips met Mon-El’s.

It was a short, sweet kiss, not too passionate as both of them hesitated to deepen it. Kara didn’t remember a moment she felt so vulnerable…yet so strong at the same time. She knew that this kiss put their friendship on uneven ground. One wrong move, one wrong word could break it all; she had to be extremely careful with it. Yet this was also what she’d wanted for so long. What she dreamed of when she closed her eyes, what she imagined when her eyes caught Mon-El’s from across the room, what she wished for when she watched him laugh next to her, and what she never dared to ask for, even when she was sure of her feelings. To have that… She was beyond words.

She pulled back a couple of seconds later, fear filling her lungs as she stared at Mon-El. She waited for him to speak, because honestly…she was afraid she would just confess everything if she opened her mouth.

His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb swiping over her cheekbone, before he started. “There is… There is one more reason why I got you this,” he said hoarsely, gesturing at the VR set. Kara didn’t look away. She didn’t think she could look away from his eyes anyway. She held hear breath, waiting for him to continue, wishing beyond hope that it would be the words she’d wanted to hear for so long. “I like you, Kara. Like… Like you, like you. In the romantic sense.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest before a smile found its way to her face. A happy, elated smile that erased even the memory of utter fear she’d literally just been experiencing.

“I like you, like you back, Mon-El,” she mused, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. She only had time to see a glimmer in her eyes before she leaned in for a kiss.

And as good and beautiful as it was to kiss him…she had to admit, that wasn’t the only thing in her mind. Sure, she was happy. Sure, Mon-El liking her was like a dream come true. But their relationship had never been about lovey-dovey words and serious moments. It’d been about teasing, joking, driving each other crazy in the best way possible. That had been in Kara’s mind as she kissed him, and as she also reached to the VR headset. She grabbed it and placed it on Mon-El’s head as he was distracted before he could even realize what was going on.

“But now it’s your turn to play,” she said as she pulled back, looking at his wide eyes with a grin. Her stomach churned with excitement when she saw first shock, then fear filling his eyes.

“Kara—“

“Bup bup bup. You promised.” She pressed a finger on his lips to stop his objections. Oh, seeing him try to go through that game, cursing left and right—which was always fun to see, because he tended not to curse as like a rule of thumb, so it was endearing to Kara when he loosened his control over himself—or sitting on the floor with his arms around his knees until he eventually died in the game…from doing nothing. She was so gonna enjoy this. “No objections now.”

Mon-El opened his mouth as if he was gonna say something, but then he stopped. He sighed and adjusted the headset to fit him.

“Okay, fine. But I’d get my phone ready if I were you. You might need to call 911 any second.”

Kara was smirking widely as she watched him get into position. And even though she knew she’d absolutely laugh her ass off at him in a couple of moments, she couldn’t help laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder briefly. She leaned in to press a kiss on the bare part of his cheek.

“You know, I got you, too.”

#submission #karamel secret santa 2017 #kss2017

[calorieworkouts]

A Keto Meal Delivery Service Now Exists

I obtain it, you're busy-and that does not always permit planned out trips to the food store to buy healthy and balanced, healthy foods, complied with by hours in the kitchen actually making those foods.

But truthfully, lots of people that have shed weight state they done well by preparing their own damn meals. Go into, meal-delivery services.

Meal packages obtain you in the practice of planning in advance as well as cooking your dishes, a reliable weight management approach, says Samantha Cassetty, R.D., a nutrition counselor and interactions consultant.

But not all programs are produced equal, especially those designed to assist you drop pounds, so before you begin obtaining dishes supplied to your doorstep, you require to find out which program is best for your objectives.

1. Hello Fresh

Known as the simple, easy-to-follow meal-delivery service, Hello Fresh is also quite weight-loss conscious. 'Their team dietitian evaluates the dishes prior to they are placed on the food selection to guarantee they're both healthy and balanced and well balanced,' claims Leah Kaufman, R.D., C.D.N.

Another plus: Each dish is low in salt as well as oil and features a nutrition tag that can be located on their site. Recognizing that information can assist you stay within the proper amount of calories per day to best stay on par with your weight-loss goals. Slimming down normally comes down to calories in versus calories out.

2. Chef'd

Big-name cooks (like Alex Guarnaschelli, for all you Chopped fans) and also health experts signed up with forces to create dishes that are weight-loss friendly and also amateur-proof for this meal-delivery service. And also, the firm also partnered with the American Diabetics Organization and also Atkins so customers can create health-specific meals, such as low-carb recipes that concentrate primarily on protein, Kaufman claims. So yeah, you might say that Cook would certainly is pretty darn weight-loss pleasant.

3. Purple Carrot

Vegans (or simply vegetable enthusiasts!), step right up. Purple Carrot, an entirely vegan meal-delivery solution, creates healthy, plant-based dishes that are great for weight management, particularly because their meals are constantly packed with fiber from fruit and vegetables. And also, pro-tip, all that fiber from veggies maintains you really feeling fuller, longer.

Each dish includes nutritional info (key to remaining on track) as well as offers at the very least two people. And if you're preparing for one, that leaves you with a balanced lunch for the next day, claims Sharon Palmer, R.D.N., writer of Plant-Powered for Life.

4. Green Chef

This USDA-certified organic dish kit provides lots of options for a variety of various dietary demands as well as choices: vegetarian, omnivore, predator, gluten-free, and paleo.

Many meals come with pre-made sauces and dressings, which can be a significant shortcut. (Yet Kaufman recommends scanning the nutritional facts for the sugar web content in your dishes, as dressings are normally packed with this weight-loss saboteur. As well as if the sauce isn't vital, then reduced it to save calories.)

As an entire, Kaufman provides this solution her nutritional expert consent for providing a selection of plans that 'match everyone's dietary demands as well as limitations,' all while being reasonably low in sodium, high in healthy protein, as well as filled with healthy and balanced, satisfying fats, such as olive oil.

5. Veestro

Unlike the various other boxed meal solutions on this checklist, Veestro supplies prepared meals. Just because you don't have to DIY the cutting and sautéing, it does not imply these meals are negative for your weight-loss objectives. They're in fact a hell of an action up from the frozen meals discovered in the freezer aisle, states Palmer. 'They are plant-based dishes that are moderate in calories and also wonderful for weight reduction,' she says.

Since they're packaged as well as prepared for the mini, Veestro's recipes are basically calorie-controlled, making it less complicated for you to monitor your consumption and also remain on factor. Veestro meals are likewise quite well balanced, particularly for veggie-centric food (which can be heavy on the carbs), offering you the nutrients you require to remain fuller much longer. One more perk? Veestro likewise offers three different meal shipment solutions focused exclusively on weight loss.

6. Sun Basket

With 10 various dish plan options-including gluten-free, vegan, and also Mediterranean kits-there's something for everybody with Sunlight Basket. Variety, Sun Basket additionally provides natural produce and also responsibly-sourced meats and fish and shellfish (like antibiotic- as well as hormone-free meats and wild-caught fish).

Sun Basket likewise allows you mix-and-match dishes within your plan with a 'build-your-own-basket' option, which suggests less waste when you discover a meal you're not totally right into.

7. Kettlebell Kitchen

If you're on the keto diet regimen, you recognize cooking at house can be recurring (the number of variants of steak, butter, and avocados can you do?). Currently, Kettlebell Kitchen area has a keto-specific meal plan for keto dieters. Their Complete Keto meal strategy supplies dishes like Grilled Chicken with Mustard Greens and Bacon Cattle Ranch Dressing, and Huevos Rancheros with Coconut Cream, to assist you monitor your carbs as well as load up with fat that will certainly help improve your body into ketosis. Bonus offer: They're all pre-cooked, so all you have to do is warmth and consume.

Even if you're out keto, Kettlebell Cooking area has 10 other meal strategy options for you-including paleo, vegetarian, as well as Whole30-to help you fulfill whatever weight reduction goal you're making every effort for.

#health #weight #work out #work out plans