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charlie-lec-stories · 8 months

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Some Odd Numbers are Even // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Max knows that he's always been in love with his best friend, even if she was driving for the enemy, and he could live with that, but her dating the rival he has a crush on it's where he draws the line.

Warnings: Some angst, but they all take it like champs. Max kisses people when he's drunk. Some sexual comments.

Author’s Note: I had to work on this one a lot to make it fit the theme of the blog, but it motivated me to keep editing my stories, this is the beginning of everything. Rate: +18

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When Max Verstappen met Y/N he was the most hormonal 15 years-old on Earth, or at least that's how his father called him, always running around chasing girls instead of focusing on what was important. He has to admit that his head wasn't filled with the purest thoughts when they got introduced by their mutual friend, Pierre, but when she humiliated all the boys on the track winning by almost twenty seconds, he knew he fell hard. She called him her best friend the second time they hung out and, to Max's dismay, their destiny seemed to have been sealed. Best friends. He hated it, but he would take what he could get. With time, he learned to live with it. She was the first person he told he was feeling "confused", as he initially called it, and then the first he decided to let know that he was bisexual when he finally understood it. He was glad that she took it great and she was kind of surprised that he ever thought she could get mad about him liking people. They enjoyed gossiping around and sharing their opinions on the different people they liked, but he never dared to tell her how he felt about her. She has had at least five boyfriends and countless one-night stands since they met and everything always ended up in heartbreak for her. He spent years wanting to scream "I'm here, just look at me", but she never looked his way, at least not like he wanted. Still, he tried to be supportive, because she still was his best friend and his massive crush on her wasn't her fault. He was supportive when she dated that weird dude from Canada who was obsessed with her hair, when she told him that she wanted to learn how to play the guitar and when she decided that she wanted to drive for Mercedes in F1. He was still a little pissed off that she signed with Mercedes, but he took it like a big boy.

However, there was something they could never see eye to eye about and that something was actually a someone: Charles Leclerc. Max and Charles had quite the history when it came to their relationship, they were rivals above all but, unknown to Charles, the monegasque was also Max's bi awakening when they were 16. The dutch took his time getting there, but he ended up understanding that even though he was constantly wanting to rip Charles' head off, he also find him attractive. Of course, that didn't make Max like the other, he knew the difference between finding someone good looking and liking them at all. Would he have sex with Charles? Probably, in another universe. Did he stopped disliking Charles? No, definitely no. But his best friend adored Charles. Y/N could write a whole encyclopedia about Charles, she was in love with him, but Charles was that unreachable entity that never looked at her as more than Pierre's friend. He was always nice to her, attentive, charming, funny, even warm. He liked her, not the way she liked him, but he liked her anyways. The three of them were trapped in this weird triangle and Max hated it. He hated Charles for getting the attention he wanted and for getting even hotter with time. But for Max things only got worse.

They were all 24 and it was the first time in a long period that the three of them were single simultaneously. Charles had broken up with his girlfriend of two years before the start of the season, Y/N was on a celibacy run since the beginning of the year and Max broke up with his latest boyfriend who he only dated for three months. On the first race of the season he noticed that the Ferrari driver was a recurring character at the Mercedes garage. For a moment, Max thought that Charles was considering moving to Mercedes, but he soon found out that the Ferrari driver had other intentions.

"... And then I said "I'm coming on your camera, mate". Never felt so stupid in my life". Y/N laughed at Charles' story and Max could feel his blood boil inside his veins. "But well, at least I wasn't the one who suggested to milk the goats on Goat Simulator". He added softly looking at George Russell, Y/N teammate, and making the girl giggle.

"Good to know you're funny, Leclerc, now you can make a career in stand-up when you finally fail making one in racing". Charles rolled his eyes and then smirked.

"Look at that, Mr. World Champion is scared of a little competition". Charles taunted him. "What is it, Verstappen? Afraid of me stealing the title this year?"

"Okay, enough of the testosterone battle". Y/N cut them off before Max could reply. "Neither of you got the bigger stick".

"Are you sure about that, Cherie?". Max was five second away from murder. The wink was like playing with fire, but Charles did it anyways. The championship wasn't the only thing he was stealing from Max that year. "Never say things like that without proof".

That same night, around 4 am, Max opened his hotel room to an extremely happy Y/N: "You won't guess who helped me break my celibacy streak". Well... he could guess.

By summer break Charles and Y/N were officially the paddock's favourite couple, for everyone except Max. He was furious about it, and Charles fighting him the championship so closely wasn't exactly helping. Even the fans could see how much Max resented the relationship between his known best friend and rival. Every podium, cool down room and interview that included the two was filled with drama. Petty comments, eyes rolling, arms crossed and even once, Max calling Charles an idiot. But what Max didn't want to admit was that the more he was forced to spend time with Charles, the more he started to like him. He was funny and Max found himself having to suppress a laugh at one of his jokes more than once. He was also extremely good at racing and that was something that Max liked, it was the first thing that made him fall for Y/N in the first place. Also, his best friend was constantly telling him how nice Charles was to her: romantic, loving, caring. And even if Max didn't like it, he could see that Charles actually cared about Y/N, he could see that Charles was in love with her. It broke his heart, it pained him like anything before. He thought he could take it, that he was mature enough to let her go and be happy for her. But he couldn't, so he decided to put some distance, to take care of himself and protect his heart.

The second part of the season was intense. Max won his second championship, but he had put so much distance between him and his best friend that she wasn't there to celebrate with him. She was at the Ferrari garage, hugging a defeated Charles and running her hands up and down his back. The monegasque had the prize that Max wanted the most and, suddenly, the award on his hands wasn't that important. Not when she was there, supporting him. It hurt to watch, her kissing Charles and hugging him tight. Charles smiling at her, nodding his head as he accepted her words of encouragement. She was probably giving him the same speech she gave Max when he first started in F1. "You're more than enough". "Your time will come". "You have what you need to be a champion". He could remember it like it was yesterday when she would ran her fingers through his hair, his head on her lap, softly crying, the ghost of another DNF haunting him. It always worked though, her mumbled sweet words, fixing his broken ego and shattered heart. No matter the distance, Max just couldn't let her go and now he had nothing, not even his best friend. Around Christmas he had come to the conclusion that the main reason why he hated Charles and Y/N's relationship so much was because he didn't know if he wanted to be her to date Charles or be Charles to date her. He liked them both, and if learning he was bi was shocking back in his teenage years, addressing the fact that he liked two people at the same time was even more. So he did what he did best when it was off season, he got drunk. Shit-faced drunk, so wasted that he couldn't remember his own home address.

The red door in front of him was familiar and for a moment he wondered if he actually made it home. That door made him feel home, somehow. He knocked on the door a few times. His head was spinning and thinking hurt his brain. The door swung open, his best friend was looking up at him worried from the other side of it. He didn't think it through, he just grabbed her face and smashed his lips on hers. For a moment, he thought he could feel her kiss back, but as quick as the kiss started, it ended. With a mumbled "You don't know what you're doing" and sad expression on her face, Y/N led him inside and dropped him on the couch. Charles was sitting there, without a shirt and looking at him with a pissed off expression. Max had lost whatever self control he had and the words just started pouring out of his mouth like a river.

"What are you looking at, Leclerc?". He asked, words slurred.

"You just kissed my girlfriend". Charles knew it was pointless to argue with Max on that state, but he was as angry as his face showed.

"Deal with it". Max rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "And put on a shirt, for fuck's sake, or I'm kissing you too".

For Max, there weren't many feelings worse than a hungover. It was easily on his top 5, along with heartbreak, losing at basically anything, visiting his father and eating tuna, not in that specific order. He did the best he could to look around but the sunlight was burning his eyes off, figuratively, but he felt it literally. The feeling of the furniture underneath him was oddly familiar and the smell in the air was definitely Y/N's. For a moment, he closed his eyes and decided to go back to sleep, satisfied with the feeling of being home. Suddenly, he remembered that he shouldn't be there. Sitting straight up, he found himself ready to throw up from the sudden movement. He took a look at his surroundings, Y/N's home was different from when he last remembered, a few months back. A lot of Ferrari merchandizing adorned the living room and a few framed pictures on the walls showed Charles' smiling face. Max felt the pain in his chest when he noticed that she still had up all of their pictures together. He was the most horrible friend on Earth, she loved him and he pushed her away. A picture in particular caught his attention, it was a podium from the first half of the season, in Silverstone. The three of them got into the podium on that occasion and Max had agreed to take the picture without much drama. Y/N was in the middle and both Max and Charles had their arms around her waist. They all looked genuinely happy. Max couldn't help but feel like he messed everything up, he was the only one to blame for that being the only picture they all had together. The only one, and Y/N had it hanging on her living room like it was a moment as cherished as the other life changing moments hanging on those walls. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to get out of that house. He picked up his phone and wallet from the coffee table, but his keys were nowhere to be found. He searched the whole living room desperately for almost fifteen minutes.

"You're awake". Max stopped moving at the voice of Charles ringing through the air, deep and raspy from sleep. The dutch was currently kneeled in front of the couch, trying to see if his keys were underneath it, and his back was facing Charles. He took a deep breath before he stood up and faced him.

"Yeah...". Was the only thing that Max could manage. He wanted to spit a mean comment, say something sassy enough for Charles to go away, but after seeing all of the monegasque's belongings so naturally laying around the house he didn't have the heart to disrespect him in what was undoubtedly his home.

"You had quite the night last night". Charles walked further into the living room, looking at Max with a puzzled gaze. "Do you remember anything from it?"

"Well, the last clear memory is downing something that tasted awful". Max scrunched his face remembering the taste.

"You came here around 4 in the morning-". Charles stopped talking suddenly. His tone insinuated that he had planned to say more, but he backed out last minute. He was visibly tense.

"I'm sorry". It was the first time Max had ever apologized to Charles in over ten years knowing each other.

"For how long had you liked Y/N?". To say that Max was taken aback by the question would be an understatement. His hungover head tried to think of an excuse, something that could spear him from admitting the truth. Charles could practically see the gears turning inside his head. "Don't bother lying. We know".

"We?". Max was pretty pale, but he managed to get paler.

"Listen". Charles relaxed a bit, moving closer to the couch. "You may don't believe this, but I actually like you, Max. I know that we don't have the best relationship, I'm willing to meet you half way, but I can't do that if you're not honest".

"There's no point in that anymore". Max admitted plopping himself on the couch. "She hates me. I'm the last threat to your relationship, Charles".

"She doesn't hate you. She loves you. Which is kind of awkward because she's my girlfriend". Charles sat next to Max on the couch, the other looking at him with a confused expression. "You kissed her last night".

"Fuck". Max hid his face on his hands. "I'm so sorry, Charles". Twice in less than 30 minutes?

"She kissed you back". There was this tension between them, neither knew what to do with the conversation. "We talked about it when we went to bed". Charles shifted on the couch. "It was an interesting conversation though. We freely left out some things we were hiding". Max sat straighter and looked at Charles, trying to show him that he was actively listening. "Like the fact that we both have had a crush on you for ages". That was something unexpected. "I know that I hasn't been the kindest guy to you through the years, and this doesn't excuse it, but it was really confusing when all of this started happening and I wasn't sure of what to do with it". Max remained silent. "You can say something, you know?"

"I don't know what to say". Max was perplexed. "I guess I just have so much to say that I don't know where to start".

"Morning". Y/N's voice softly entered their charged atmosphere. She walked to the couch and sat down, reading their conversation on their faces. "Are we talking about it right now?"

"I hope you don't mind, but we started without you, mon amour". Charles grabbed her hand and lightly squeezed it.

"I don't mind". She sighed deeply. "Max, we've talked and we want to propose you something". Max nodded his head. "We both really like you, like really like you-"

"Already went through that, amour, he's still processing it". Charles chuckled.

"Oh, okay. To the point then?". She asked mostly to herself. "We know that this is kind of weird and you may not be into it, Charles himself is still working on the idea, but we'd like to know if you'll be interested into adding yourself to this". She pointed between herself and Charles. Max kept quiet.

They waited patiently for Max to gather his thoughts, they knew that it was a lot to take in and they weren't aware of his crush on Charles, so there was also this fear of him not liking Charles back. They spent the night talking, went through all the options: ignore it, break up, take some time, open the relationship, and lastly, they ended up with the only option that made them happy. They both liked Max, they both wanted to be with him, but they loved each other and hated the idea of breaking up so one of them could date Max. Charles had a few contradictions with the idea, he was too wired into monogamy and found the idea uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt like it was the right choice, the one that could make him feel complete. He still had a lot to think about but he wanted to give it a try. Y/N was more open to the concept, she was more in touch with her feelings and less into monogamy than Charles.

"I have been in love with you for so long". Max said softly out of the blue. His eyes met Y/N's when she looked at him. "You have no idea. No idea how much I dreamt about you saying that back to me". He clicked his tongue. "Do you remember when I was 16 and I told you that I saw a guy and felt weird?". Y/N nodded her head. Of course she remembered when he first came out to her. "It was Charles. We had had the most intense race ever, I was just so pumped up, the adrenaline so high. And he took off his helmet and all I could think about was punching his face and then kiss it". Chales, who had been looking at his lap since Max confessed his love for Y/N, looked up at Max.

"For that long?". Charles asked. Max nodded.

"It was my bi awakening". The three of them laughed softly. The air became lighter around them.

"I always thought it was Pierre, you know?". Y/N told Max.

"Oh God, no! I mean I love Pierre, but c'mon, you both are more my type". Max said with more confidence.

"Does that mean that you're in?". Charles asked. Max looked between him and Y/N a few times and then smiled wide.

"Yeah, I'm in".

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Okay! So, this is the beginning of the relationship. remember that none of these stories are published in chronological order. They are just short stories about different situations those three went though. I hope you like it!

#charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen imagine #lestappen x reader #lestappen imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot #lestappen fic

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swiss-mrs · 5 months

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#WEIRD☆GIRL

(Word Count: 4.6k)

Rating: PG-13, Adult Language and Themes, All Characters are 18+

Reader/OC Description: Reader/OC is Afro-Latina. She has long, dyed black hair that is worn straight with baby bangs and shaved brows. She is an alt baddie and would've definitely ruled MySpace. Body shape/type is not detailed. No Use of Y/N.

Playlist

Synopsis: One day, while Dave and Todd are out, they pass by a park void of screaming kids. Instead, the park is taken up by a group of what looks to be a mix of teenagers and young adults. Passing by the loud group, the boys can't help but stare, mixing Dave up with a girl more socially unacceptable than him.

Warnings(?): Adult Language, Sexual Themes (No Smut, Just Horny Boy Thoughts), Catcalling (Potentially Triggering Language)

This is written in third person but mainly narrated from Dave's view.

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"I can't believe they had it!" Todd exclaims, gripping the plastic bag in his hand tight. Dave nods, gripping his backpack straps.

"Yeah, we need to start coming here more often. They have everything. We gotta bring Marty with us when he gets back."

Today marked the first day of the boys' last Spring Break. Marty was out of town on a trip to Florida with his family, so this cut down the trio to a duo, Dave and Todd. The two were currently walking along a street on the other side of town than their usual hangout. Todd found a new comic and video game store, and he and Dave figured they'd check it out.

"I can't wait to read it."

"Remember, no spoilers until I pick up my edition too." Dave replied. As they round a corner to get to their bus stop, they are greeted with the sight of a large clearing between buildings.

On the closest side to the boys was a skate park. It had a decent amount of skaters occupying it, echoes of skateboards landing against concrete traveling throughout the park. As the boys walked passed, they could hear the sound of music. The further they walk, the closer the music gets.

The current song that was playing was what Dave imagined rugged bikers with dark sunglasses and handlebar mustaches listened to. Scary and intimidating. It was muddy and grungy and punk and metal? He wasn't well versed enough to really know how to label its genre. Just as one song came to an end, another just like it followed.

He and Todd were both staring at the group surrounding the picnic table that held the speaker. Each one was different from the next, but they all had a similar dark and grungy style.

Something that immediately caught his eye was a black haired girl who took two big steps to get atop the picnic table. As the new song began to pick up, she got into a matching character. As she winded her hips and lip sang to the lyrics, Dave was completely entranced by her. "Woah..."

"Yeah…" Todd absently replies.

Her unnaturally dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and around the curve of her breasts. Her bangs reminded Dave of a toddler who decided to experiment with scissors. They were far too short to be considered "normal", but, Jesus, did she pull them off well.

She had two bows on the sides of her head, one purple and the other an off-white cream color. She wore a black, short sleeve crop top with red writing on it, something Dave couldn't really read clearly from this distance. She had knitted, fingerless gloves on each hand that nearly blended in with her skin tone. Dave's eyes continued to work their way down her legs, finding her thighs covered with light pink, sheer lace shorts that stopped mid thigh. The only thing keeping her "appropriate" were homemade, cut-off jean short shorts.

Dave couldn't help himself; he was captivated. He's never seen anyone dressed like she was, at least not in real life. It was like she stepped right out of an anime. She was incredibly unique. How was she able to pull that off so well?

Dave's eyes wandered down further to get a full view of her exposed, dancing legs. He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to touch them.

She swiveled her hips in circles as she began to spin and whip her hair to the beat. Dave had this opportunity to move his eyes up, getting a perfect view of her butt, his body lighting up as his heart raced.

She had made a full turn, stopping in the direction of the two boys, catching their stares. Todd immediately turns his head to try and seem captivated by the clouds above, but Dave is not as quick to notice.

"Dave." Todd mumbles, eyes dodging the girl's gaze, darting back and forth from his friend, the ground, and a very (not-so) interesting brick building behind the park. "Dave." Todd repeats, elbowing Dave in the side, finally snapping him out of his hypnosis.

"Ouch!" Dave yelps in surprise, turning to Todd who is looking at him wide eyed, trying to send him a message. Dave looks away from his friend and back to the table dancer. She was staring right at him with squinted eyes. They seem to make eye contact for a solid second before she abruptly lifts a hand to her forehead. She held up her pointer and pinky fingers. The 'rock and roll' symbol she held against her head imitated horns as scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out like a child. The action shocked Dave, but he couldn't help but find her oddly adorable.

Todd is quick to snatch the handle at the top of Dave's backpack and drag him away to their bus stop at the end of the street. The ride home was a pretty quiet one after that.

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Two weeks have passed since he'd first seen the strange girl. Every spare chance he got during spring break was spent taking advantage of his vigilante skills for the wrong reasons. He had secretly visited that park numerous times, watching his girl and her friend group from afar. He knew that stalking was not how he should've gone about this, but he also didn't see walking straight up to her and introducing himself as an option either.

Something was definitely wrong with him. There is no good reason for him to know where she lives, but he convinced himself it was just to ensure she got home safe. Tonight only enforced that thought.

Usually she would walk home with at least one friend for good measure, but for some unknown reason to Dave, she walked alone.

Today, she had on an extra baggy hoodie. One that he came to know as one of her favorites. It reached the tops of her bare thighs, the hem of her mini skirt just visible below. She wore leg warmers that matched the color of her hoodie and worn combat boots. She had a small backpack that looked like wings on her back, decked out in pins of all kinds. The oversized hood was perched on top of her head.

She was always good about checking her surroundings and looking over her shoulder when walking alone, but this wasn't a matter of a sneak attack.

Dave watched as an older man stepped out in front of his strange girl. Dave couldn't hear the exact dialog due to their distance and the passing people and cars, but he for sure knew that whatever was being said was not welcomed.

"No. Thank you. I'd rather be left alone." Dave heard that loud and clear, so why did this creepy guy not take the hint and leave?

The man abruptly reached for her arm, and gripped it tight. Dave took off in a sprint.

"Get your hands off me, asshole!"

"Don't be a fucking tease-"

"Hey!" Dave cut the guy off, running up behind her. "Didn't you hear what she said, creep? Let her go!" He said firmly. Both the creepy guy and the girl's eyes look over to Dave, both of them giving him a once over. Her eyes were full of confusion, one thinly drawn brow raised. The man scoffed at the kid.

"What the fuck is this?" he shoots back. Dave squares his shoulders and raises his masked chin. "How about you mind your fucking business, princess, before you get hurt." the man follows up, making fun of Dave's costume.

"Let. Her. Go." Dave repeats sternly. The guy laughs in his face.

"Or what, leotard?" Dave follows up by removing the batons from behind his back. He points one at the man.

"Or else I'll have to beat you until you let go?" He says confidently. The girl cringes, that was not nearly as intimidating as he thought it was. The guy laughs again, flicking out a pocket knife. The two men stood there in a stare down. Their pause gave the girl a chance to yank her arm from the man's grasp, simultaneously using her other hand to whip out a pink taser decorated like a mini Gameboy. She shoves the sparked end into the side of the creep's neck, causing him to twitch and spasm. She holds it there until the man falls to the ground twitching, presumably unconscious. She takes her booted foot and jumps into a hard kick to the man's side.

"Fuck you, dipass!" Dave stands there shocked. The girl's gaze switches to face him. He lifts his hands in surrender and slowly puts his batons back. The girl takes one big step closer to Dave. He jumps back, but she is quick to grab one of his hands and begin dragging him down the route of towards her apartment.

They walk a couple blocks and round a corner in silence before she stops abruptly and turns to Dave. He stands there staring, absolutely shell shocked. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing!?" She asks, putting two hands on her hips and resting her weight on one side.

"Uh-" Dave stutters. The girl raises her brows expectantly. "I, uh- I was trying to help you." The girl's brows draw together as she squints.

"Thank you, but, to be honest, you didn't really do much, and that only answered one of my questions."

"Uh, I'm, uh- The name's KickAss." The girl stares at him in disbelief for a good five seconds, searching his eyes for any sense of a joke.

When she doesn't find anything, she lets out a "pfft" and giggles. "You're joking, right?" She raises her brows with a grin.

"Uh, no. I'm not…" Dave's eyes look everywhere but at her.

"I-," giggle, "I'm sorry." Another giggle, " I don't mean to be rude, but KickAss?" Dave smiles nervously, instinctual reaching for the back of his head. "You really need a rebranding, my guy." She says, an amused smile still playing on her lips. Her eyes didn't hold any malice or judgement, just intrigue.

"Yeah, well, I'm obviously not that creative." He laughs nervously. Dave looks back to her, finally getting a proper look at her up close. She's smiling… at him. God, he was going to faint.

"Jesus, your eyes." She says suddenly, catching Dave off guard. "They're gorgeous, my god." She huffs a short laugh, staring into his eyes. Dave can't keep eye contact for long, completely flustered. He thanked the powers that be that he had a mask on at this very moment. He was sure he was as red as ever.

"Thank you." He looks down. "You, uh, your eyes are beautiful, too." He says sheepishly. She laughs, shaking her head.

"Oh, please. They're just a normal, old brown. Nothing compared to your stunners. Wow." She throws back at him. "Well, I appreciate you stepping in, KickAss." She thanks, putting emphasis on his 'name'.

"No problem. You seem to have it handled without me." His illusion of 'stalking for protection' ruined.

"Nonsense! Thankfully, I didn't need you to start a fight this time. The fact that you even stepped in at all when you saw something means a lot, so thank you." She clasps her hands in front of her, swaying side to side.

"Can I walk you the rest of the way?" He asks. She shakes her head.

"As sweet as that is, no, thank you. I don't quite know how I feel about masked men knowing where I live." She teases. "Plus, it's not much further. I'll be okay." She smiles at him, again. Dave can't decide if he wishes she'd stop looking at him or if he wishes she'd keep her gaze on him forever. She begins walking away, "Thanks, again! See you around!" She shouts behind her, turning another corner.

》》》

Two months have passed. Shortly after their first, up close, encounter, Dave made it a point to walk her home every chance he got, always when she was alone. Well, not every time. She started to get suspicious as to how he always knew when she was walking alone. "Are you following me?" She'd ask, Dave giving an unconvincing 'pfft' and a 'no', causing her to roll her eyes. After that, he made sure to space out their walks but still following her from a distance. It's now nearing the end of June, and his graduation date is only a couple weeks out.

This night was a first. She invited Dave in. His eyes widened in shock, "Yeah, sure!" He said a little too enthusiastically, internally cringing at himself, but his awkwardness only caused her to giggle.

She nods, "Okay. My brother is home, so you'll have to sneak in. I'll go in first. Just turn the corner," she points, "and use the fire escape ladder to get to the fourth window up. My window has a collection of ninja turtle action figures on the sill." Dave opens his mouth to say something, but she continues, "Wait there until I come in. I just have to let my brother know I'm home first, then I can disappear into my room." Dave sits his mouth and nods. "Okay, I'll see you up there!" She smiles, jogging into the building.

Dave watches her jog up the stairs until he can't see her anymore. He then makes his way around the building and, as instructed, climbs up the fire escape. He gets to her window with ease. Through the parted curtains, he could see into her dark room. The light in the hallway provided little to illuminate the room from the bottom of the closed door, but thanks to the setting sun, Dave could clearly see the four little trinkets on her windowsill. It made him smile. She was a little nerdy, too.

"Ok, I'll order the pizza!" Before Dave could analyze her room any further, she bursts through the door, tossing her bag on the floor. She turns, closing and locking the door before running up to the window. She throws the curtains open and slides up the window, smiling brightly at him. "Hola."

"Buenas Noches, señorita." Dave says, again cringing at his choice of words, getting a laugh out of her.

"Vamos." She says, stepping aside. He climbs through the window, trying his best to avoid disrupting the figures. "You up for pizza?" She asks once he's fully inside.

Dave nods, looking around at her room. "Yeah, sure."

She smiles up at him, gesturing to her room, "Bienvenido a mi casa." She says dramatically. "Make yourself at home, señor KickAss."

Dave chuckles at her, shaking his head. "Gracias." His accent is still strongly American, but four years of Spanish didn't make it the worst. He goes to sit on the plush bench at the end of her bed. He figured that was a safe bet. He wasn't on her bed, but he also wasn't awkwardly sitting at her desk in the corner of the room. It was a kind of middle ground. His eyes follow her as she goes over to her old school boombox, graffitied with stickers, and turns on some music, low enough for them to hear each other, but just loud enough to disguise their voices from any eavesdropping. "Do I need to worry about your brother?" He asks playfully, deep down a little nervous.

"No, he's playing video games with our cousins online. He can't hear a thing with his-"

"AHHH! NO MAMES WEY!" a scream can be heard, as if on queue, scaring the fuck out of Dave.

She rolls her eyes, continuing, "headphones on." She sits on her bed, crawling over to rest her bare legs on the empty cushion next to Dave. She grabs her laptop that was laying on the bed and opens it up. "What kind of pizza do you like?" She asks, typing away.

"Uh, whatever." He says, unsure.

"Well, guess we can't go wrong with half pepperoni and half cheese." She says, placing the order. "My brother is pretty boring when it comes to pizza." Another scream could be heard in the background, promoting another eyeroll. Dave chuckles a little, nodding.

He twiddles his thumbs before asking, "So, why did you invite me in?" The girl shrugs her shoulders, still typing and clicking away.

"I dunno. You've walked me home nearly everyday for the passed 2 months, and I've grown to trust you. Every time we part ways, I feel the urge to keep you around. I figured it was about time we hung out for more than just a few blocks." She closes her laptop hallway and sets it to the side. His heart flutters.

Dave looks at her stunned. "You want to hang out with me?" The girl squints at him.

"Um, yeeaaah. What kind of question is that?"

"I, uh- I mean- it's just- you know-..." He stutters. She giggles at him.

"What?"

"I mean, you're just so cool, and I'm, you know-"

She looks at him amused. "You're what? A cool vigilante guy who is sweet and funny and someone who should totally should give himself more credit." She bends her legs, nudging him softly with her knee. She scoots down the bed a little to sit closer to Dave, holding her knees to her chest. She uses her oversized sweatshirt to encompass her entire body. Dave looks at her with admiration, his heart racing again, before looking away from her and down at the bench below him. "I don't hear a 'Gracias' or a 'Tienes razón, mi hermosa. Eres muy inteligente y eres la mujer más bella del mundo. Gracias por todo, mi amor.'" She goes on.

Dave laughs, "Thank you. I don't know if you're right, but you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Dave says boldly but still avoiding eye contact, looking down at his hands.

The girl's eyes widen, "You speak Spanish?" She looks horrified, embarrassed by the words of praise she tried to get him to say.

"A little." He twiddles his thumbs more, "I've been taking Spanish all throughout high school. I am no expert, but I can get around." He shrugs.

"Welp, that's embarrassing." the girl reaches up to tug hard on the strings of her hoodie, hiding her face in the fabric. Dave looks up and reaches for her hands.

"Que? No 'gracias'?" He teases, trying to get a look at her face. He has no clue what is coming over him, but he is becoming a bit more comfortable. His heart is still pounding, but seeing her get flustered brought his confidence up. She peers out from inside her hoodie. Her wide eyed look nearly floored him. He was forever grateful that he was already seated or else his knees would have buckled.

"Gracias,... señor KickAss." She says playfully, trying to make up for her embarrassment by joking off. He offers her a soft smile, melting her. It was now her turn to avoid his eyes. Her eyes make their way over to the stereo. "So… you're still in high school?" She asks, looking back to him, wearily.

He nods, "Y-Yeah, but not for long." He says quickly, the realization coming quick that they don't actually know each other's ages. "I graduate in like 2 weeks." Her nonexistent brows raise as she nods. "Are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I tested out, got my diploma early. I couldn't be bothered with high school anymore." She shrugged. Dave's brows shot up. She really was smart. "It's just me and my brother. The earlier I got out of high school, the more time I had. It allowed me to help out with bills and whatever, get us a nicer place." She gestures to the room around her. "I mean, it may not seem like much, but trust me when I say it's a million times better than where we were." She then takes the time to look around and appreciate her surroundings.

Dave's look of admiration returns. "You're amazing." He blurts out. The girl's eyes find him, holding his eye contact, again with this wide eyed stare. She was gonna kill him. Her heart stopped when she looked in his eyes and found nothing but honesty and softness. She gives him a little smile. My god, Dave was literally going to pass out.

》》》

Dave didn't seem to notice, but hours went by with them talking, eating pizza, and talking some more. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in the room was coming from her bedside lamps and a flickering candle.

By now, both of them had made their way into the bed. Dave was laying on his back, watching the ceiling while she was laying on her stomach perched up on her elbow, watching him. They were currently both comfortably silent, the soft music still playing in the background. She guessed that her brother must have fallen asleep at his console by now, considering there weren't any more frustrating cries or exciting cheers heard from across the apartment. Dave is the first to interrupt the silence between them. "Would it be a terrible idea to take my mask off right now?"

The girl gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest, "and reveal your secret identity, Zorro?" She lets out a short laugh, this causes Dave to let out a tired smile.

"I'm being serious." There's a pause.

"Well…" the girl starts, "you know, once you do so, there's no going back. I'm not so much of a bitch that I'd ever expose you, but you know… it's a big step."

"Is it in the right direction?" he asks, turning his head to look over at her. They stare deeply into each other's eyes.

She sighs, "I'm sorry, babe, but that's a decision you'll have to make on your own." The pet name catches Dave off guard. He nods and sits up, causing the girl next to him to follow suit, twisting her body so she's cross crossed and facing him. Dave takes a deep breath and reaches for the back of his mask. Just as his gloved hands meet the fabric, he felt a smaller hand touch his. "Are you sure?... Absolutely positive?"

He doesn't move, "Positive." He replies. She lefts go of his hand and he pulls the mask forward and off his head. He kept his head down for a second, taking in a deep breath. He could feel her eyes staring at the side of his head.

He looks up and turns to her. They make eye contact for a good 3 second before her sleeve covered hands come flying up to her face, covering her eyes. "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god, what?!" Dave panics.

"You're hot!" She exclaims. Wow, did she really know how to throw Dave off. He watches her, shocked. "This feels wrong, oh my god!" She says, muffled by her sleeves. "I should not be seeing this right now." Dave smiles a little. How does she do this? She's just too cute.

He reaches up for her hands, "Well, like you said, there's no going back, babe." He says, pulling her hands down. Her eyes were squeezed shut, scrunching up her face in what Dave thought was the most adorable way. "Oh, don't be a baby. Open your eyes." He says. She squeezes them even harder just before opening them up, like ripping off a bandaid.

She lets out a sigh as her eyes roam over every feature. She takes a moment to just admire his face before giggling when her eyes make their way to his hair. "What?" Dave asked, this time not panicked, but amused.

She giggles some more, smiling wide. "Your hair is a mess." She says finally, biting her smile.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I don't really do face reveals, so I didn't bother thinking of a way to properly tie my hair up under the mask."

She smiles at him softly, her eyes relaxed. She reaches up to touch his cheek. It's warm and a little sweaty from being stuck under a mask for the last several hours. They get lost in each other's eyes. Dave's jaw was slack, lips parted slightly. Her features still held her soft smile.

"I think I love you." Dave says abruptly, taking her aback.

"What?-"

"I just always feel so safe and comfortable around you, and I love how you're so unapologetically yourself, and you are always so kind and beautiful, and I can't help but find myself always thinking about you, and I'm always wondering if you're thinking about me to, which I hope you do, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't on your mind the way you're on mine, and ever since I saw you dancing on that picnic table when Todd and I were walking to the bus stop and you made that weird adorable little devil horn face thing, I knew I just had to know you, like I was drawn to you, and-"

"Wait, that was you?"

Dave ignores get question and continues rambling, "and I know we're just kids, but I can't think of a better way to live life than with you, and I want us to be together. I want to go to see your favorite scary movies with you, even though it confuses me as to why you still go to them when you say they always scar you, and I want to hold your hand and be there for you when you're scared. I want to go see those bands you always talk about in concert with you. I want to learn every lyric to every one of your favorite songs just to impress you when they come on. I want to hold you at night when you've had a bad day and don't know what to do with yourself. I want to keep you safe and always make sure you're happy. I want to be the reason you smile. I want to walk with you forever, stay by your side. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning, and I want nothing more than to hear you say you love me and tell me you love me the same way I love you, and I-"

"Dave, shut up!" She says with a smile, her eyes glistening. "Breathe." They both take a deep breath together. "If you keep going, you'll turn blue." They share a small laugh. "Can I kiss you?" She asks.

Without responding, Dave dives forward and kisses her full force. They deepen the kiss, her other hand reaching up to caress his other cheek, his hands resting on the bed, one on each side of her knees.

Without breaking the kiss, Dave moves to readjust. He pulls her closer, moving her to sit in his lap. She follows his lead, getting up to straddle him. Dave wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her closer to him. She arches her back, "accidentally" grinding against him. Dave is first to break the kiss with a gasp, his hands immediately making their way to her hips. She opens her eyes to find Dave's squeezed shut with his eyebrows narrowed together. His blue eyes open to meet hers after a second, both of them breathing heavily, Dave's eyes wide and innocent, looking up at her.

"Sorry." He says, embarrassed that she was able to affect him so easily. She grins, shaking her head.

"Don't be sorry. It's good to know I have such an effect on you." She leans down to rest her forehead on his. She squishes his check together, pushing him down to the bed, his hands finding themselves caressing her now exposed butt from under the mini skirt she still wore. He felt all the blood drain from his head downward. "Should we keep going?" She asks. Dave nods furiously, no longer able to form words.

She leans in slowly to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, too."

》》》

Moodboard (exposing "y/n") on my page under #weird girl swiss fic

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski x you #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski #swiss fics #dave lizewski swiss fics #weird girl swiss fic #dave lizewxki x black reader

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extremelyblackandwhite · 8 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry this one is a bit short. i am worrying myself silly until tomorrow.

masterlist

and wouldn't you love to love her?

Bucky didn't know if Y/N wouldn't be back. He had decided to give her space, allow her the time off since she never had any but explaining it to Sadie was, to say the least, complicated. The two year old had decided to live up to the terrible two cliche and between refusing to go to school and kicking any time he tried to bathe her. Whenever she asked when Y/N would be back all Bucky could say was that he did not know and, honestly, that was the truth. The more the days passed by and her viva examination got closer, he was starting to believe more and more that maybe she just wasn't coming back at all. I like you just the way you are, what ever happened to Hey Y/N, would you like to go for some coffee? No, he just had to be upfront about it.

As if Sadie living up to her prophecy wasn't enough, Christopher was equally on him blabbing and wondering about Y/N. He could only tlel him so much before Chris charted a jet to Ohio and he was certain Y/N would hate that more than what he told her.

Bucky was in the middle of dealing with Sadie screaming bloody murder about the pancakes not having chocolate chips when he heard the front door close. At this point, if someone came to shoot him in the head he wouldn't mind. However, it turned out to be a much pleasant sight dressed in a professional black dress.

- Why is she crying? - Y/N drapped her coat over the chair.

- There's no chocolate chips. - Bucky sighed both of relief that Y/N was here and of tiredness.

- Sadie Barnes, you either eat your pancakes or there will be no TV, no tablet, no toys, no Etch-a-Sketch and definitely no Bluey, Disney + or any other streaming service your dad may be paying for. Your choice.

The redhead stared at Y/N before starting to eat her pancakes. That's it, Y/N was a witch. She had to be a witch. That's it. She was a witch, a very pretty witch who looked way too polished to have come out of an Ohio farm, but a witch.

- How were the cows?

- Pardon?

- Your parents. You went to see your parents right? They live in a farm in Ohio?

- Yeah. They were ok. Apparently mum has named them Rose, Sophia, Dorothy, and Blanche much to dad's dismay.

- Like the Golden Girls. - he chuckled. - So, your viva is today.

- Don't remind me. It's like walking into a slaughter house and then being denied being called a doctor. They should decapitate me, put my head on a spike, and parade me around Columbia as the massive disappointment.

- What's decapitate? - Sadie asked.

- It's the capital. - Bucky said not wanting to traumatise his two year old with the scenario Y/N had just described. - Go wash your hands and get your backpack, bug.

Sadie nodded but not before going over to hug Y/N's leg. Y/N ruffled her head before sending her along to wash her hands. Bucky got to making Y/N a plate, patting the chair next to him. She smiled at him before taking a seat and cutting a bit of the pancake. She stopped chewing, looking at him with a forced smile.

- Good?

- Buck, why are they salty? - she put a napkin in front of her mouth to spit out the pancake.

- They're not salty. - Bucky took a forkful from her plate to try it himself.

- We've had this discussion, Buck. Salt is in the black pot and sugar in the white one.

- I'm gonna be a mess when you quit. - he pushed the plate away from her. - Speaking of which, I would like if you interviewed your future replacement. I trust you to pick the right person.

- Most likely you won't need a replacement because I'm failing my viva today.

- You are not. - Bucky put his hand on her shoulder. - You are smart, Baudelaire.

- Baudelaire?

- Do the scary thing first. Get scared latter.

(...)

Bucky drove Y/N down to Columbia, ensuring she got there safe and ready for her VIVA before driving down to take Sadie to school. Y/N swallowed in empty, merely staring at the hallowed halls of a building which had many notable alumni and she was now hoping she would be one. The VIVA was intense to say less and as she came out of the room, she was sweating buckets and wanting to be as far away from the building as possible.

- Y/N! - shit. Shit, shit, shit, she'd forgotten he existed. What ever happened to men taking a hint?

- Chris. - she turned around with a fake smile. - What are you doing here?

- Anderson told me it was your VIVA today, I wanted to come see you. I haven't seen you in a while and Barnes said you were on holiday.

- I thought after our last chat you wouldn't want to talk to me, Christopher.

- It was a hurdle, Y/N. - he got closer to her. - Listen, I understand it was rough of me to attack your job like that but you have to understand it's because I care for you and that job is beneath you.

- No job is beneath anyone, Christopher. You think that silver spoon mouthed talk is gonna make me forget you basically insulted me, my boss and the child I look after?

- You have a Bachelors and a Masters, Y/N. You should be working internships, assistant positions to help you build your curriculum, not being a silver spoon mouthed man's child's babysitter.

- That's all fine when you can afford to work a non paid position, Christopher.

- I care about you, Y/N.

- But I don't love you.

- I don't expect you to love me yet, we haven't been seeing each other for too long and if we ...

- Christopher. - she interrupted him. - I love someone else. It's not gonna stop.

(...)

Y/N dragged herself home. It was now a week, a week long of worrying wether she passed or not. She guessed it was better than having to do it again, heck she hoped she wouldn't have to do it again. She opened the door and heard mumbling with all the lights being off. She moved to turn the lights on, coming face to face with a home made sign and Sadie yelling surprise.

- What is this? - she smiled, leaning down to pick Sadie up.

- You're done, it's a party. - Bucky chuckled, pointing to the sign. - We have reservations in about 3 hours. Bought an ice cream cake and Sadie made you a card.

- You shouldn't have done this.

- What? After 3 years and a half of you moaning and whining over psychology, you need a nice night out.

- You do know she'll start crying at around 10.

- That's why we have dinner reservations at 6.30 and once she's in bed, I will allow you full control of the television. How does that sound?

- I may not pass.

- You got this far. You deserve a celebration just for you.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @buckybarnessimpp

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you

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samieree · 10 months

Text

Banished Heimdall x Reader (Goddess of Nature)

(Request from wattpad) The part where Kratos spared Heimdall. Well let's say he did spare him and he came back to Odin to report what happened but the gjallarhorn was stolen and Odin banished him to Midgard and did the same spell like Freya had. And for years being stuck in Midgard, there he meet the reader who is actually the Goddess/Mother Nature, melting the snows and creating flowers for the end of Fimbulwinter.

Several years have passed since Odin banished Heimdall to Midgard for losing the Gjallarhorn. But he still didn't accept this fact, and exile did not soften his character at all. The winter didn't help much either. Luckily it was finally coming to an end.

Heimdall was tired of wearing thick fur. He definitely preferred the climate in Asgard, his clothes and peace there. And now he had to take care of himself, and it was driving him crazy. Especially at the beginning, ugh... He doesn't even want to think about it. He shouldn't live in the past.

He was just coming back to his house, grumbling about how he hates this world and this winter better be over because... Okay, he doesn't know what he's going to do, but it better be the end of this cold weather. Though... Then he'd have to boat across Lake of Nine and row, so maybe the cold wasn't so bad after all...

"Stop!" He heard a scream but ignored it. He continued walking forward, still focused on complaining. At least until some vines suddenly sprouted from the ground in front of him. "Are you deaf?"

"Are you looking for trouble?" Irritated, he turned to the place where the voice came from and was clearly surprised.

You were standing a few feet in front of him. With a slight smile on your face, dressed in a fairly light outfit, considering the weather. But... The aura around you looked like spring. Your hands emanated pleasant magic, and the smile itself seemed to melt the snow that was no longer around you at all. Nature was beginning to come back to life, green grass sprouted from under the snow, and the scent of flowers slowly began to fill the air.

You've met each other before, when he happened to be on a mission in Midgard. And it seemed like your character has stayed the same ever since. And he won't admit it, but... The aura you spread around you calmed him down and warmed his heart.

"Be careful, don't step on my flowers." You said, drawing back the vines that were blocking his path. You just finished that meadow and it was about to get trampled by some bitter guy.

"Do you really think I care?" Okay, maybe not the usual bitter guy, because as he turned to walk away you saw his shining eyes. And you've only known one person with eyes like that - other than einherjers, but they've been gone for a while.

So it had to be Heimdall. Very dissatisfied with having to be where he is.

"Respect nature and it will respect you." You followed him, and with you spring aura, letting the world know that it's time to wake up from winter sleep.

"I don't need it. Go plant your flowers elsewhere."

"I seem to have planted quite a few around your house. I thought there were some people living there, otherwise I probably wouldn't be so nice." You said half-jokingly, clearing the snowdrifts from your path with one snap of your finger.

"You did- WHAT?! Who asked you for this?!"

"Do you have to ask for gifts?" You replied, tilting your head slightly and aligning your step with him. "I don't think that's what it's about..." You smiled and extended your hand towards him with a flower in your hand.

"I don't want any weeds." He took off his coat and draped it over his shoulder as it was actually starting to get warm.

You rolled your eyes at those words and ran in front of him, now walking backwards but facing him. You were still holding a beautiful flower in your hands, flower with large, white petals for now.

"Look." You ran your free hand over the flower and its petals began to change colour. In shades of pink, purple and blue. Its stem took on a white colour with golden accents. You smiled wider and extended your hand to him, offering this newly created plant. "Here, this is for you. It looks like you." Heimdall stopped suddenly, and so did you.

No one has ever been so insistent about giving him a gift. In general, no one ever even wanted to give him a gift... It was even... A nice feeling.

In order not to lose his image, he sighed a martyrdom before taking the plant from you, the petals of which matched the colours of his eyes. As he took the flower, your hands touched for a moment. Your skin was very smooth and radiated a warmth Heimdall didn't know, but he could tell with certainty that it was pleasant.

"And what am I supposed to do with it?" He asked, examining the plant carefully.

"Plant. Need help?" You asked as you started walking back towards Heimdall's house. "You could plant a vegetable garden. Oh, or orchard!" You smiled at that thought. Walking with him towards his house, you kept doing your job along the way, here and there stimulating more plants to grow.

"Do I look like a gardener to you?" He grunted, his eyes focused on the flower. This small gesture somehow warmed his heart, which was especially aching after the things that had happened to him.

"I'd help you." You suggested. "Of course, when I'm done with spring." You added, walking over to him.

You reached your hand towards his face, but he immediately pulled away. He knew what you wanted to do and he absolutely did not want to let it happen. I will look like an idiot. You froze with your hand next to his face.

"What a favour from Y/n, the great goddess of nature." He said it with a hint of mockery in his voice. "Why do you want to help me?"

"I have a soft spot for things that need fixing." You said honestly. He would know anyway if you lied.

"I'm not broken."

"Aren't you?"

Isn't he? He didn't know himself. And what does a not broken person look like? Behaves? Lives?

He was always lonely, even when he was surrounded by people. Even if he was in bed with someone, even if there was a family meeting. He always felt alone, as if no one cared about him, he meant nothing to anyone and the only value he had was what he was doing for his world. And now he didn't even have that. He lived from day to day, but he had no purpose. He just existed.

He sighed softly, then nodded slightly. After that small gesture, you gave him another warm smile and finally moved your hand. You touched his hair and tucked a flower like the one you gave him behind his ear.

"It suits you." You said, placing your hand on his cheek for a moment longer and it cost him all his stubbornness not to snuggle into it and it's warmth.

The warmth of sincere sympathy, caring, interest. Something he had never known, and it was an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling. And maybe, just maybe, he would like to experience it even more.

"Like a wreath suits a cow." He grunted, but there was no such obvious malice in his voice. "Can we go now or are you going to put so much weed in my hair that I'll never get it out?" Saying this, he started walking towards his house again and you followed him.

"I'll take them out, you don't have to worry." You said.

"Oh, and you think that I'm going to let you do that?"

"If you let me put a flower in your hair, you'll let me take it out." You answered with a wide smile, walking with him arm in arm and spreading your spring aura around you here and there.

Damn, she's right.

-> general masterlist -> God of War: Ragnarök masterlist

#heimdall #god of war heimdall #god of war ragnarok #gow heimdall #heimdall god of war #god of war #gow #heimdall gow #heimdall x reader

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ladyylavenderrr · 3 months

Text

Garak and Psychosis

Very self indulgent little post about instances of Garak displaying behaviors that read to me (or at least can be read) as a symptom of psychosis. I will almost certainly miss some, but I want to compile this together for myself. I completely see Garak as having some kind of psychotic disorder. Most of these examples will come from A Stitch In Time, but we have some from the show as well. Also keep in mind that many of these could be interpreted in a myriad of ways, not just as a psychotic symptom. I’m not claiming any of this is definitive proof or anything of the sort, and Garak’s past as a spy (a profession that by nature demands a lot of paranoia) certainly complicates all of this. That’s not to say this an either-or situation. He can be both psychotic and a former spy and in fact the effect both would have on the other would be quite interesting, as laid out in this post

Again, all of what I say can be interpreted in many different ways, but I just want to have it all written down in one place. Psychosis can manifest in very different ways for different people. Some people might be debilitated by their symptoms, struggling to function without assistance. Others might function just fine most of the time and only experience relatively mild symptoms, though the associated distress isn’t any less important.

Season 6, episode 5 “Favors The Bold”. Garak insists Julian examine him for a some kind of mind reading device put in his head by Starfleet Intelligence. Despite Julian telling him there’s nothing out of the ordinary in his head, Garak doesn’t believe him and insists he keep looking. Came off as a delusion to me, especially since he remains convinced despite evidence proving his delusion false.

Season 4, episode 21 “For the Cause”. Upon meeting Ziyal, Garak becomes convinced that she wants to hurt and kill him. I wouldn’t say her being Dukat’s daughter is enough evidence for the average person to be this worried. In fact, Quark even calls him out on his paranoia and we get this exchange.

GARAK: I was going to cancel. I've had visions of Ziyal presenting my head to her father as a birthday gift.  QUARK: That's a little paranoid, wouldn't you say?  GARAK: Paranoid is what they call people who imagine threats against their life. I have threats against my life.

To be fair, Kira warning him to stay away from Ziyal gets him to calm down a bit, or maybe not because he still seems quite apprehensive when he actually meets Ziyal, still afraid she might want to hurt him.

Now to A Stitch In Time.

Part 1, Chapter 7. As Garak helps Parmak dig people out of the rubble of a bombed Cardassia (highly stressful and traumatic situation), he seems to hallucinate a figure. You could read this as metaphorical, but he reacts to and tries to interact with the figure in the real world, which doesn’t come off as a metaphorical way of describing his despair to me.

“I have never lived with despair, Doctor, the way I live with it now. It's almost like a phantom companion that shadows me and casts doubt on whatever I do.

"Why save him?" it asks, as we remove a young boy from the rubble of a school. "You're only keeping him alive for a future of privation and chaos. Wouldn't it be more satisfying to join the burial unit?"

I want to scream at this phantom, to shut it up. Once I turned around suddenly and raised my hand to strike it. When I realized it wasn't there, it was too late. Everyone in the unit was looking at me; I'm sure I must have looked like a madman.”

After this, Parmak gives Garak some pills. He only calls them “relaxants” so it might be a sedative of some kind, but I’m not sure. Either way, Garak hallucinates again after swallowing the pills, panicking as he sees those Cardassian orphans from the episode “Cardassians”. I doubt the pills are hallucinogens, both because Parmak specifically gave them to Garak after witnessing him hallucinating and is seemingly trying to stop that, and because they speak about the hallucinations like an unintended side effect ("I'm afraid they don't react well with me," I explained. “I understand," he said.)

Certain drugs making psychotic symptoms worse isn’t uncommon.

Part 1, Chapter 6. As Garak and the rest of his group in Bamarren are forced to stand still in the heat for what might be hours as part of a training exercise, he begins to hallucinate multiple figures, including his parents (it’s interesting that one of the figures seems to be Palandine, even though neither we nor Garak have been introduced to her yet). If this were the only instance of Garak hallucinating in the book, I wouldn’t assume he has a psychotic disorder since this example has obvious an explanation outside of a mental health issue. People are known to experience hallucinations when suffering from heat stroke. However I’m putting this example here simply because it’s part of a larger pattern of Garak hallucinating multiple times throughout the book. It’s also interesting to note that this scene happens right before the scene of an adult Garak hallucinating that figure with Parmak.

Part 2, Chapter 18. Garak seems to hallucinate as he looks at the frieze. He sees the frieze move and the people painted on it move as well. He thinks some of the figures are he and Palandine but isn’t sure.

“The frieze now began to move in the upward direction. I was too amazed to ask if this was truly happening. People would disappear at the top while more would enter from below.

Certain faces were recognizable, but I didn't know why. Something was also rising within me, an energy moving up my spine to my head, and I began to feel dizzy. Two of the figures could have been Palandine and me, but I couldn't be sure. I was almost nauseous with the energy surging within me. The figures completed the cycle and disappeared at the top. The frieze stopped moving.”

This one can be interpreted in a more metaphorical way than some of the others, but like I said, it could also be another symptom of this potential psychosis.

I’m sure I’ve missed some examples, but you get my point.

#star trek #ds9 #deep space nine #elim garak #garashir #psychosis #schizophrenia #a stitch in time #asit #andrew robinson #meta #media analysis #schizospec #deep space 9

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icybluepenguin · 5 months

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Mistletoe

Summary: Astarion wants to kiss you. Luckily it's Midwinter, and he's come up with a plan that will definitely work this time. For the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 prompt "mistletoe"

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav(reader)

Tags: Astarion is bad at planning, friendly chaste kisses from the party, shenanigans, silly idea and silly story, fluff with maybe some feels if you squint

Note: This is just a silly idea that made me smile because this man can't plan his way out of a paper bag. Just winging it the whole way. I've been really struggling with my mental health and my brain is screaming at me that I should not post this- but I don't listen to my brain, it's not the boss of me! Make bad art, have fun with it, that's what I say. Hopefully it makes someone smile.

Astarion wanted to kiss you.

Ever since you both had agreed to just being friends, he couldn't stop thinking about you and what he didn't have.

Being friends was nice, it was. He liked that there were no expectations. He liked that you still always made time for him. But he didn't want to be your friend the way Gale or Karlach was your friend. You listened to their problems, you hugged them, you told them they were good– and that was fine. But he wanted more.

He wanted to be special to you. He wanted you to be special to him. He knew you well enough now to know that the nice part of “being friends” would also be part of “being together” in a way that wasn't just sex, but was care and connection and closeness.

He wanted to kiss you again so badly, it was hard to think of anything else. To feel your breath on his lips before he pressed them to yours, to be held in your arms because you cared for him, and to know that if he wanted, you'd stop.

But he didn't know how to ask for it. Not after the conversation about not wanting to have sex. Kissing normally led to sex, and he didn't know if you would want to kiss him if it didn't. If he were really honest with himself– which he tried not to be– he wasn't sure how he would feel about it either. But he wanted it.

So he hatched what he considered a devious, genius plan.

It was hard to tell from the weather, but Karlach had been reminding everyone that it was nearly Midwinter. The ground was clear of snow and there was only the faintest nip in the air, but the calendar didn't lie. She had started decorating around the camp, making garlands for everyone's tents and trying to cook holiday treats over the campfire.

The plan began when it was his turn to gather firewood. That was already his least favorite camp chore and whoever's turn it was to go with him usually made it even more unbearable. It was dirty and heavy and the other person always got upset when he stopped to drink a squirrel or three. This time, though, his partner was Halsin, who was more willing to do all the hard work and never chided Astarion for being what he called an “apex predator.”

He was doing his best to ignore the druid's rambling about nature, until he heard the word “mistletoe.”

“I have not seen much in this area, but it certainly is appropriate for the season. It is feeding off this aspen, but it seems the tree is still thriving, for now.” Halsin patted the tree as if congratulating it for doing a good job.

“Look, a stick. Do be a dear and pick that up,” Astarion drawled, examining his nails for imperfections.

He marked the location in his head and resumed tuning out Halsin's lecture about parasitic plants.

He snuck back later to harvest some of the mistletoe. This would be perfect. You wouldn't suspect a thing, he'd get to kiss you, and then it would be easier to talk about what he wanted.

It wasn't until he got back to camp that he remembered you weren't staying in an inn or house with convenient doorways and roof beams to hang the mistletoe from.

Sulking in his tent, he glared at the handful of mistletoe on his floor. He couldn't just hang it in his tent, that would be too obvious. He couldn't hang it in your tent for the same reason– and he didn't want anyone else kissing you.

He began wandering around camp with his head craned back, looking for places to hang mistletoe from. Which was fine until he tripped over Scratch and you giggled at the way the dog kept trying to lick his face while he was in the dirt. His stomach swooped into knots at the sound. Gods, he wanted to kiss you right there.

There were a few branches overhanging the area they'd agreed on for weapons care and sharpening, after Lae'zel kept grinding her sword at all hours of the morning right next to the other tents.

He waited until dark. As quick and dexterous as he was, he wasn't the best at climbing trees. Not a lot of opportunities in the middle of the city. Not to mention living as a slave to a deranged sadist, he thought.

He only fell out three times, which he considered a pretty decent showing– as long as no one was watching.

In the morning, when it looked like you were getting your weapon, he pulled out his daggers and sat under the tree, making a show of honing them.

He stood gracefully when he heard footsteps. “Hello, dar-”

“Oh, Fangs, look! Mistletoe!” Karlach had him in a tight hug before he could even think to say anything, lifting him off his feet like he weighed nothing. She laid a happy kiss on his forehead and put him down. “I wonder who put that up there. Guess I'm not the only one looking forward to Midwinter!”

“I guess not,” Astarion managed, smoothing his clothes down and picking up the daggers he'd dropped in surprise. He felt oddly warm and cared for. It made him defensive. “It certainly wasn't me. I don't need a plant to get someone to kiss my gorgeous face.”

It must just be the fire of Karlach's engine making him so warm, he told himself as he sauntered into the woods- so she wouldn't see him gently touch the spot she'd kissed.

When he got back, ready to wait for you, the mistletoe was gone.

That night, he only fell out once hanging another sprig. But he really hoped he wouldn't have to climb this damn tree again. And he was going to make sure of it.

It was easy to steal your weapon– you really were too heavy of a sleeper– taking it into the forest and slamming it into trees and rocks to dull it. Now you'd have to come sharpen it.

He waited until he saw you come out of your tent holding it, a confused look on your face as you ran your finger down the ruined edge.

Taking position back at the grinding station, he hid a smug grin. Now, he'd get to kiss you and–

“Hello, Astarion.”

Wyll, dammit. Sounding very friendly and annoying.

Astarion glanced at him. He was carrying your weapon.

“Tav asked me to sharpen this for them while they help Gale with something,” Wyll explained. “Oh, is that mistletoe? Karlach's certainly been busy.”

Wyll put down your weapon and gave him courtly bow. Astarion watched warily, but was completely shocked when Wyll took his hand and kissed his knuckles with a light tenderness that slammed him back into a life he'd thought he'd forgotten completely. Bright, colorful parties, gaining favor with powerful people, the polite rituals of small talk…

“Are you going to ask me to dance next?” Astarion said sharply, shaking off the memory.

“I wager you'd be amazing at it, if I did.” Wyll dropped his hand and picked up your weapon again with a knowing smile.

A harsh tsk interrupted whatever Astarion might have said back.

“What are you two doing, this is a place to sharpen your weapons, not your tongues.”

Astarion sighed.

“What is that plant doing above your head, Astarion?”

“That is mistletoe, Lae'zel,” Wyll said patiently. “It’s tradition around Midwinter for anyone standing under it to get kissed.”

Lae'zel took three steps closer to Astarion, at a worrying speed. “Kissing?” she asked, deadpan.

Oh no. Astarion stepped back, raising his hand in front of his mouth.

She tore down the mistletoe and ground it under her heel. “A distraction. We have other concerns to focus on.”

He exhaled.

This wasn't working at all. Here he had thought he was setting the perfect trap and-

Oh wait. A trap. A trap. It wouldn't be that hard to modify a trap to swing the mistletoe overhead when you tripped it. He was excellent at setting traps. Much better than climbing trees.

After finding a few animals to drink, he sat down to make his kissing trap while everyone else was asleep.

He set it up close to camp, but not in the main area where just anyone would trigger it. You took a morning stroll to stretch your limbs each day and you would walk across it it when you did.

Astarion sat just beyond the trap, pretending to read his book. Very casual.

He heard the trigger snap and was on his feet in an instant. Still very casual, he told himself.

His saunter froze upon seeing the distinct purple robes.

“Ah, look. Mistletoe. You know, the berries of the mistletoe were once thought of as symbols of male fertility.” Gale chuckled, inviting Astarion into the awkward subject. “How they became associated with Midwinter is quite the mystery, though. I suppose a fertility symbol becoming a romantic signifier isn't so unusual-”

Astarion couldn't take much more of this. He had to get Gale out of the way before you walked by, which could be any minute. He could already see Scratch in the distance and the mutt usually accompanied you.

“It is even considered bad luck by some to ignore the tradition to kiss under the mistletoe. Although-”

Without thinking more about it, Astarion surged forward and pressed his mouth to Gale's. The man had surprisingly soft lips, contrasted by the prickle of his mustache. Astarion jerked back, startled by his own actions.

He was slightly mollified by the pink in Gale's cheeks and the way the man mumbled, “I suppose we will not be having bad luck, then,” without meeting his eyes.

Scratch bounded towards them, breaking the tense moment. Astarion looked, but couldn't see you anywhere. The dog barely stopped for a pet before he was sniffing his way towards Astarion's abandoned book.

“Hey, no! Dog! Dog, stop that!” he snapped, rushing after him. Scratch’d eaten more than one book around camp already; he seemed to have an insatiable appetite for them.

Astarion nearly dove onto the book, trying to get Scratch to let go of the cover without tearing it.

Clutching his book to his chest and out of reach of Scratch, he returned to his trap. “I'm not kissing you, don't get excited,” he muttered to the dog.

It looked like he wasn't going to be kissing anyone– the mistletoe was gone. Again.

He dashed back to his tent to grab more. He still had time. He could get it all set up again before you walked by, he was certain. He was fast.

He rushed through laying the ropes and tying the knots, crouching on the ground. He hadn't even seen you yet this morning, maybe you were still asleep.

He straightened up to examine his work, taking a step back.

The unnoticed coil of rope around his ankle tightened and yanked him forward and up before he could even yelp.

So much for no bad luck.

He swung around, just far enough off the ground to make getting untangled a challenge. He scowled. Maybe he should have slowed down. Just a bit. The only saving grace was that you were still nowhere to be seen.

As he rotated around, a pair of sandals came into view.

“Funny, I didn't picture you as one who likes to be tied up,” Shadowheart said with soft disdain.

“Been picturing me tying you up?” he tried to sound as sexy as possible while hanging upside down. ”I'll do it if you say please. Setting you loose, however, that's another thing.”

The sound she made would have hurt his feelings, if he didn't feel the same way.

Shadowheart picked something off the ground and then held it over his head by one leaf pinched in her thumb and forefinger.

“This isn't what it looks like-” he started.

She rolled her eyes. “I'm sure. Whatever it is, it looks ridiculous.” She dropped the mistletoe on his face. “Save this for someone who doesn't mind fangs.”

“So, you're not going to help me down, then?” he called as she walked away, an irritated pout in his voice.

It didn't really take him long to free himself. At least that's what he repeated over and over as he stalked off into the woods to find something to eat. Killing something would soothe his bleeding pride.

Later that evening, as the party sat around the fire, he watched you take a bite of a burnt lump that Karlach called a cookie. It looked dreadful. But you smiled as you chewed slowly, telling her it tasted like cinnamon. Always kind and thoughtful- even as you downed a huge swallow of wine.

You were so stupidly nice, he couldn't stand it. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to taste that wine on your tongue.

Forget the plan, it clearly wasn't going to work. When had his plans ever worked with you? He snuck away from the fire. It took mere minutes to hang some mistletoe from your tent and return to the group as if he'd never been gone.

He walked with you when everyone headed to their bedrolls, making sure no one else was close enough to steal a kiss from you.

He was practically preening with satisfaction by the time you saw the mistletoe. He was going to kiss you and you would hold him and-

“Oh no, I'm so sorry, I don't know how this got here.” You yanked down the mistletoe, gripping it in your hand like he wouldn't notice it if you just held it tight enough. “I've been taking this stuff down all over camp.”

Astarion stared. “You've been taking down my mistletoe?”

“Yes, I– what do you mean, your mistletoe?”

“Why have you been taking it down!”

You threw the crumpled plant to the side. “I didn't want anyone to force you into something you didn't want to do. It seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I've kissed everyone in this camp trying to get you under this damn plant!” His voice was rising too high.

“I am so confused,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What are you talking about?”

“It's Midwinter. There's mistletoe. It's quite simple, really,” Astarion covered his embarrassment with condescension. “Kissing, my dear. It's the traditional response.”

You looked at him until he wanted to squirm away or lash out to get you to stop. He knew you were too damn perceptive.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he sighed, resigned to having to tell the truth.

“I thought you wanted to just be friends.”

“Well…” Astarion waved his hand vaguely, “Yes? I do? But I also want to be… more than friends. Together. With you. But in a way that doesn't involve sex?” He tilted his head, touching the curls on the back of his neck, feeling extremely vulnerable. “If that's something you… might consider…”

“Oh, Astarion. I would love to love you in any way you want.” You looked at him with a mix of fondness and impatience. “Now kiss me, you idiot.”

He put his hands on your cheeks, drawing you close. Your breath warmed his lips before he touched them to yours. Your arms wrapped around his waist as he'd imagined, mouth opening for him. His tongue grazed over yours, soft and gentle, the heat of you seeping into him.

It was everything he wanted.

Master Post

#bg3holidayfluffle23 #Astarion #Astarion fic #astarion x tav #Astarion x reader #My writing

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suzukiblu · 8 months

Note

I don’t know if you’re still taking prompts, but if you are: Rao? Or House of El?

"You never even asked to see my soulmark," Lex Luthor says, raising an eyebrow at him. "So you know perfectly well that it's me on your chest, and I imagine you knew that before I even showed up here."

Kon wants to throw him off a building and listen to him scream all the way down.

Lex Luthor probably isn't the type to give a guy the satisfaction of screaming, though.

"Yeah, because I'm not completely stupid," Kon says irritably. "I was looking right at you when the stupid thing burned into me."

"I assumed, yes, since I wasn't the one looking at you," Lex Luthor says, then hums thoughtfully to himself. "'Burned'? That's a peculiar sensation for a soulmark to come in with."

"Maybe you're fucking peculiar, old man," Kon says.

"Coming from the one whose half of our familial soulmark is someone else's family crest," Lex Luthor says dryly, and Kon thinks longingly of very, very high buildings.

"I'm an El too, asshole," he bites off defensively, clenching his fists. He's not–he's not Clark's family, but . . . but he's that, at least.

At least for now, anyway.

Lex Luthor tilts his head and gives him an assessing look.

"I'd consider you a Luthor, myself," he says. "As would, again, the legal system. But I suppose one couldn't put 'El' on their Earth paperwork either way, now could they."

Kon doesn't have any fucking paperwork aside from his Cadmus file, but if he did, the only name he'd want to put on it would be–

Well. Definitely not "Luthor", that's for fucking sure.

"I don't want your fucking name," Kon spits. "I don't want anything from you at all, except for you to go the fuck away."

"Well, it's nice to want things," Lex Luthor says with a dismissive shrug. "Like to inconvenience the Big Blue Boy Scout, for example."

"Superman isn't actually gonna give a shit about this, you realize," Kon says. "I mean, he'll probably take back the 'S' and everything and never fucking talk to me again, but he's not gonna be upset about doing that. Like, this is in no way a win for you."

Really, Kon's pretty sure this one would count as a straight-up loss. Who the hell wants custody of their least favorite person's stupid fucked-up not-kid, anyway?

Lex Luthor gives him a completely blank look for a weirdly long moment. Kon bristles reflexively.

"My taking custody of you wouldn't upset Superman," Lex Luthor says like he's making a note and not just stating an obvious fact. "So in your mind, he'd just . . . write you off as compromised and be done with you?"

Kon doesn't see why he wouldn't.

He'll probably want the name back too, he thinks, and tries to ignore the way that idea clenches painfully in his chest. If Clark wants the name back, well–well, then it's only fair. He gave that name to some stupid pathetic kid without a soulmark that he pitied a little. Not to Lex Luthor's soulmate.

He doesn't actually know what he's going to be, though, if he can't be Kon-El or even just Superboy anymore.

Not a Luthor. Not that.

But . . . but he doesn't know, otherwise.

#kon el #superboy #lex luthor #superfamily #clarkkent-irons #wip: the one where kon's soulmark is fake

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imvenusasaboy · 1 month

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PUPARIA

Chapter 6 - two reverse

prev - chapter 1

"You sure this is the movie you want to see?" Teddy anxiously fidgeted with the scarf Hosah was hiding in so they could avoid being charged for two tickets.

"Why not? I mean, 't just came out, everyone seems excited for it," The tiny man beneath the fabric was right, the queue they were standing in had gotten exponentially longer since they'd joined, and it wasn't like they were anywhere near the front either. "It's too late to turn back now, Teddy, you've reached... Your final destination." Although Hosah's corny pun was funny, in an ironic way of course, his assistant was not laughing.

"It's- it's not that I have an issue with it, I just don't wanna waste my money on a bad movie, you know?" Maybe it was just the fact that is was too hot to be wearing so many layers that made Teddy sweat. There was no way a man, who's dealt with death head on, would be so scared of some movie.

Hosah didn't have to say anything in response, his snickering was enough.

The line moved fast, and before they knew it, the two detectives were in their singular seat, having paid for a singular ticket. To say it was nine o' clock on a Tuesday, the theatre was packed. Hosah had never been particularly interested in the horror genre, but The Final Destination was the only recent release that would be playing shortly after they'd both arrived, aside from reruns of The Notebook, which he'd already seen more times than his parents in the last five years.

Once the lights had dimmed and everyone seemed to be seated, the shrunken man wriggled out from under the layers of fabric until he had a good view of the screen. Teddy's height was a real plus, as even from his shoulder, no heads were obstructing the view of the screen.

With the amount of medication he was on, Hosah found it hard to keep his eyes open, being wrapped up so cozily in Teddy's scarf by the crook of his neck. Any sort of warmth and that was it, the shifter was out like a light. Although he was definitely more of a dog person, Hosah could understand the common comparison between him and a cat, as he found himself getting drowsy in even the most chaotic of situations, much like this one. Despite the ear-splitting loudness of the surrounding speakers, and Teddy's constant flinches at the movie jumpscares, Hosah had to fight his body's urge to drift off into a deep slumber.

The screams from the surrounding movie goers regularly jolted the tiny man back to reality, but even then, he struggled to stay fully aware of his surroundings for more than five minutes or so. Realising he wasn't particularly built for this sort of thing, Hosah wondered why he didn't just invite his assistant to watch movies in the comfort of his apartment instead. Oh well, this was probably fun for Teddy, at least.

In a room so filled with people, there was no way Hosah was going to be able to keep his attention on the movie. The best part of the theatre was watching the people around you react anyway, at least in his opinion. The shifter had never really though twice about any movie he'd ever seen, even in the moments, the awareness of the fact everything was a work of fiction was enough to take Hosah completely out of the horror enjoyment experience, so seeing other people getting scared was his main source of enjoyment from the media.

Fortunately for him, Teddy was most definitely getting scared. The concept itself wasn't even remotely disturbing, some curse or whatever, avoiding death once means it'll come back to get you, a situation Hosah couldn't picture himself being in, but it seemed terrifying enough to the people around him. Maybe he was just too critical, or maybe he just had bad taste.

As Hosah felt the giant's shoulders tense up beneath him once more, his eyes began to droop against his will, falling into his own subconscious. Lately, he'd been having weirder and weirder dreams. Sure, the reoccurring nightmare of his own metamorphosis was weird, but these were all next level. Hosah didn't think his brain had the ability to create such scenarios, but every night he would live through them, and awake with the vivid memory of them all. Recently, they'd mostly been about Teddy. He couldn't really make sense of them, with no rhyme or reason behind any of the events, not that Hosah would know how to describe or even comprehend them, and no consistency amongst them all, besides the fact they were all about his assistant, of course.

It was weird, Hosah didn't usually dream of people he knew, especially so soon after meeting them. Maybe he really would have to get into spirituality some time soon, as the spirits lurking around in his mind were clearly trying to send some kind of message, the thing was, the shifter just couldn't understand what it all meant. Hosah didn't remember the event's specifically, just the feelings he experienced. Over the past few days, he'd woken up with his heart beating out of his chest, face flushed and body shivering. At first, he considered the possibility just being sick, but that didn't explain why the feeling went away once he'd gained full consciousness and awareness of his surroundings.

-~-

"You fell asleep? How? I could barely hear myself think," Teddy laughed in astonishment, at this point he shouldn't have been surprised by this fact at all.

Despite knowing the giant couldn't see him from his own shoulder, Hosah shrugged, "That just happens when it's dark and I'm all warm and cozy."

It was true, even now, with Teddy squatted down on the side of the busy street waiting for their cab, the tiny man was painfully aware of his heavy eyelids and weakened muscles.

His assistant didn't respond, only chuckling to himself, probably thinking of something Hosah definitely didn't want to know about for his own dignity.

"So, was it bad?" The shifter pulled himself up from under the layers, now stood on the collar of his assistant's dress shirt, fighting the urge to grab hold of his auburn hair for balance.

"I mean," Teddy turned his face in the opposite direction, pretending to look out for the taxi, "It wasn't good,".

As the giant shifted his view as far away from the detective as possible, Hosah craned his neck to get a better view of his assistant's, very red, face. "Aww, glad I slept through it then. I'm not really a huge horror fan anyway. Never really got to me."

Despite not being able to properly see pocket-sized man, Teddy turned his face back the way it came from. Although he really wanted to say 'Why'd you make me sit through that then?' , instead he asked, "What movies do you like, then?"

Teddy already knew the answer to his question, as he'd nosied around the shifter's TV stand whilst he was busy doing whatever it was he did instead of just asking for help. He didn't have many DVDs in his collection, but the ones he did have seemed mismatched at best, ones he'd never thought he'd see all together in one place. Out of the five all together, Twilight seemed to be the one Hosah watched the most, as it sat by the TV, case opened, and with its disc nowhere to be seen.

Hosah took a second to think before giving an answer, "Oh, you know, the classics. Pulp Fiction, The Godfather." Teddy felt the tiny man brush back and forth past his neck. That was one thing he'd noticed Hosah did a lot, he swayed back and forth whenever he told stupid lies.

"Really?" Despite wanting to call him out on the falsehoods, the assistant played along, seeing how far he could push before Hosah broke and admitted the truth.

He scoffed, although it was obvious he was more nervous than smug, "Of course. I mean, who doesn't love, I don't fuckin' know, Taxi Driver."

"What's that about? Never heard of it."

".. A taxi driver??" Hosah stumbled on his words a little, if the giant could see him as he stood perched on his shoulder, his face would probably be as equally red as his own was earlier.

On the topic of taxi drivers, a familiar face could be seen in the window of the bright yellow car pulling up by the side of the pavement where the two detectives off duty were waiting. Despite having a weird at best first meeting, Teddy called the number on the business card he'd been given two days prior and asked for Felix. There was something about the familiar European accent and his uncomfortable nicknames that were so endearing to him, there was no way he couldn't form a relationship with the guy.

Felix waved the two, who were already approaching, over with large gestures out the window, calling out a few words neither of the detectives could really hear or understand.

As Teddy climbed into the backseat, hand holding his scarf, which the tiny man had found himself wrapped up in once again, the driver gave a comment which could actually be heard this time, "Just you today? Where's Pupa?"

Hosah shuffled his top half out from under the polyester in response, face still flushed, partially from the sudden movements in which he was pushed and pulled every which way by the debilitating force of gravity, and partially because he had no idea of the meaning what he'd just been referred to as had.

He only became more confused as his assistant seemed to find the term to be extremely humorous. Hosah wanted to ask what it meant, but there was an invisible force that took away his ability to speak whenever he was tiny in front of multiple people all at once, especially when that included strangers. The taxi driver turned around, leaning as far as he could into the back seat whilst still sitting down,

"Where to?" if he were anyone else, this would've been a perfectly normal and socially acceptable question for him to ask, but the fact Felix sat staring directly at the shifter instead of Teddy deeply unsettled the tiny figure. He'd actually never felt so, perceived in his life.

Such a simple question, so simple that Hosah zoned out when his assistant gave the response and Felix had long since turned around and started driving, but he couldn't stop replaying the look in his head, a thousand times over. It wasn't like being stared at when he was tiny was out of the ordinary, in fact, he'd grown accustomed to being a spectacle, but that's what made the interaction so unsettling, the fact Felix didn't look at him as if he were a strange trinket or some kind of car crash that, despite knowing they shouldn't, people can't seem to take their eyes away from.

It was the first time someone had looked at Hosah, when he was such a way, as an equal human being. The same way Felix looked at Teddy in the same sentence. For once, he felt as though he was on equal grounds to just about anyone in the city, which was probably what scared him so much, as he realised it wasn't just the taxi driver that gave him such a kind of look.

Things like this always meant the most to him. Maybe it was just because he was so small, he could see the details so much clearer, that even a shift in the glint of someone's eyes meant a lot. Or he just had a bad habit of overthinking all the minute things in his life. Probably the latter, but Hosah preferred the first standpoint. Being three inches tall sucked most of the time, but being able to enjoy the smallest parts of life was pretty cool. Pillows being huge, empty plains of fluffy bliss, food always being in abundance, being able to count the freckles on a certain someone's cheeks, all the things he wouldn't be able to appreciate if not fulfilling his hereditary curse that was being a shifter.

Right now especially, Hosah could appreciate how warm and soft the flesh of his assistant's neck was, blended with the polyester of his scarf. If he couldn't keep his eyes open an hour and a half ago, he definitely couldn't right now. The giant voices mindlessly chatting were loud, but his lack of sleep over the past couple of days was louder.

As he rested his eyes, Hosah couldn't help but think back to the current case. If a random taxi driver he'd met once before could see him as an equal human being, why couldn't this sick monster see the fifteen people he'd taken the lives of as sentient beings at the very least? Even at his most lethargic of states, the detective's job kept him awake. If he'd had gotten there sooner, maybe they'd have had a better shot at saving the final body, or even identifying the man that had run away from the scene of the crime.

Hosah knew far too well not to get his head stuck on this topic, as he'd been repeatedly told by the two people currently closest to him, but it was something he couldn't help. Getting into a state of debilitating self hatred was his default, the one constant he could rely on for any sense of comfort when he had no control over anything going on in his life.

He wondered why Jules would ever seek him of all people to join the team five years ago. She knew him better than anyone, she knew the kinds of things he'd do to cope, it was a known fact to everyone in his life, that being a detective would be no good for Hosah, but being a stupid twenty one year old with no other prospects in life, Jules also knew he was a people pleaser, one that would do anything she requested of him.

Which is why, later in the evening, long since he and Teddy had ordered and eaten their takeout, both falling asleep together with the TV still playing, Hosah rushed to answer her call.

The ringing of the phone jolted the shifter awake so suddenly. He couldn't really think about the position he found himself in, still by the crook of his assistants neck, somebody was calling, and he needed to answer.

Carefully, in an attempt not to wake Teddy, he climbed down the creases in the unbuttoned dress shirt, using the wrinkles of the cotton as supports for under his feet. Hosah rushed over to the buzzing mobile on the coffee table, taking a risky leap from couch to the surface despite being unable to see where one things started and the other ended in the depths of the night's darkness.

He half expected it to be his dad calling drunk, or maybe Jeanne with more depressing news, but Hosah definitely didn't expect the name on the small screen to be Jules'. He hopped onto the other side of the phone, pressing whatever buttons he could under his heel until it picked up the call.

At first, he could only hear static and wind, but after a second or so, a familiar voice could be deciphered from the background noise, "Thank god you're up, aha. Sorry to disturb you in your down time, but, you know that guy I hired on the night shifts to watch all those cameras we got installed like, last year?" Surely when she called out of the blue at two in the morning, context was important. "Well, turns out he caught someone hand delivering a package, around twenty minutes ago."

Hosah couldn't quite understand what he was hearing for a second, due to both the fact he'd just woken up and also the absurdity of the scenario, "A.. A package? What, is it a pipe bomb or something? Call the police, not me, Juliette."

"That's the thing, it's addressed to you." She laughed down the phone, even though the situation was not funny at all.

As he stumbled on all the questions flowing from his head and out of his mouth, the shuffling from beside him took Hosah completely out of any coherent trains of thoughts he could form.

Usually by now, Jules would've hung up, but despite the terrible quality of the device, she could probably hear the fact Hosah wasn't alone through the speaker.

"Hosah?" Teddy sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "Who are you talking to?"

Before he was able to explain himself, their boss chimed in, "What are you doing with Edward at two in the morning?"

"Ah, what are you doing calling me at two in the morning? Just get the police over tomorrow and have them take the package to forensics or something. I don't care if it's for me, I don't online shop." If he were more conscious, he'd probably be a lot more disturbed.

In fact, Hosah was annoyed if anything, all he really wanted was to curl back up in the space between Teddy’s shoulder and neck, but he gathered that probably wasn’t an option anymore.

The static picked back up again as Jules spoke up once more with a sigh, “Well, if you want to come take a look, a couple of us are already here. You don’t even have to bother calling Edward, ‘t seems.”

The tiny man frantically shuffled across the keys of the phone, hanging up as quickly as he could to avoid any sort of further teasing he knew his boss loved to indulge in, especially regarding Hosah and any relationship he forms with the men around him. She knew too much, and he didn’t trust her not to share what he wished he’d just kept to himself all those years ago.

The shifter gathered his breath in one exasperated sigh, turning his attention back to Teddy, who’s structure was complimented by the glow of the single table-side lamp the pair had forgotten to turn off before falling asleep. The yellow bulb’s luminosity clung to the giant’s face, wrapping perfectly around his prominent square jaw and high cheekbones. If he didn’t already know better, Hosah would’ve just assumed he was some kind of model.

“So..” Teddy fidgeted, his eyes shifting over to the humming TV infront of him, “What was that about?”

Hosah shrugged as he often did when he knew all too well what the answers to the giant’s questions were, “Someone’s hand delivered a package to the office. Got my name on it. Probably a threat, these fucking..” the tiny man waved his hands around in a similar fashion to how Teddy would, “Anti-shifter lunatics. Hah, it’s not the first time they’ve put some kind of bounty over my head. They don’t think we’re deserving of any sort of place in society. Never mind in the criminal justice system.”

His assistant hummed in melancholic agreement, “If they knew you, they’d understand. What you said earlier, it was powerful, you know you should go do speeches or something, got a way with words.”

“I don’t remember what I said,” The shrunken man could only laugh at the thought of himself up on a podium, “I say a lot of things, you throw a hundred things at a wall, at least one of thems gonna stick,”

“It was about you all being one. All shifters, I mean, that you need to look out for each other.” Teddy was looking right at him now; the same way he would look at any other person of his same size, except this time with a remarkably warm smile, “I think you say a lot of, fucking.. cool stuff. I don’t know. I’m sorry.” The giant wiped the sleep from his eyes once more as an excuse to cover his flustered face.

“.. Yeah, I guess that was cool of me.” The shifter was well and truly flattered, wanting to cover his own blushing face too.

“Well, anyway, we’re up now, how about breakfast?”

Food did sound good, Hosah had intentionally spoken more than he’d eaten earlier, meaning he’d gone almost the whole previous day without any sort of substance. When in front of others, he’d always resorted to shifting things around his plate so it looks like he’d had more than the reality of the situation, he didn’t know why, it’s not like he was embarrassed, it had just become a bad habit.

The giant stood to his full height, with the coffee table Hosah lounging on barely being at knee height. Teddy paused for a moment, realising he’d almost forgotten something.

“You coming?” He knelt down, hand open on the edge of the table. The man, just the right size to fit in the palm being offered to him, froze. He weighed up his options, he could experience the touch of which he hadn’t felt in years since moving to the city, or he could do his usual climbing act back onto Teddy’s shoulder.

Ah, whatever, it’s not that big of a deal. Hosah cautiously made his way over to the hand which waited patiently for him, suddenly hit with a wave of shyness that couldn’t be shaken. Despite having done this a hundred times before, he found himself nervously planning out his footing as he observed the palm in-front of him.

Honestly, he half expected Teddy to take the piss and poke a little fun at him, but he didn’t. The giant waited without a word. No kinds of encouragement or teasing, no talking down to him, just silent patience. Hosah liked that about him, he knew his place even when he clearly had the upper hand in these situations.

Just as he was about to take the first step, something came to Hosah’s memory, “Teddy, what does Pupa mean?”

“Oh, um,” his assistant laughed to himself with surprise at the sudden question, “In Latin, it means doll.”

“Eugh, god. How come you get the cool name like Sancho?” Hosah thought himself to be very smart as he used to conversation to distract himself from all of his nerves surrounding the hand in front of him, crawling into the palm with the grace of a fish out of water.

Without thinking too much about it, Teddy stood to his full height now that the shrunken figure sat comfortably, “No, no, Sancho is so much worse. That’s like, the male equivalent to English’s ‘mistress’.”

This fact made Hosah feel quite a lot better about his own nickname.

Almost as soon as he’d stepped onto the palm, it was time to be lowered back down onto his familiar kitchen counters. Curse Teddy his stupidly long legs, the shifter was just starting to enjoy the warmth radiating from underneath him.

The view from the counter was quite nice, though, he could always appreciate a good forearm. Hosah watched with a little shame brewing in his stomach as his assistant checked through his cupboards, revealing nothing but half a loaf of bread, an unopened can of chopped tomatoes, and a small glass bottle of vanilla extract.

The fridge was equally barren, only barely having the ingredients Teddy needed to prepare whatever he was thinking about.

“You know how you said you always carry ground cinnamon with you?” He asked, leaning forward against the countertop, his shadow cast over Hosah’s tiny form.

Embarrassed by both the position he’d found himself in and the fact Teddy had remembered the fact, Hosah hummed as if to say ‘go on,’.

“Where do you keep that?” The giant elaborated,

If he wasn’t shy before, Hosah was most definitely shy now, “In my- coat pocket. On the inside. It’s .. hung up by the door,” Despite being small enough, the shifter shrunk back into himself, pointing out back into the living room.

As if he didn’t do anything at all, Teddy casually went over and collected what little he had left in the spice shaker. Returning with all of the ingredients laid out in front of him, he explained himself,

“I’m making French Toast.” Teddy said, going through the under-the-counter cupboards to retrieve both a small skillet and a shallow bowl that Hosah didn’t recall ever owning. “Out of everything you had, it’s lucky you seemed to stock all the ingredients. Do you make it yourself often?”

In all honesty, Hosah didn’t even know how one made french toast. “Nah. I don’t really

cook all that much. Unless you count adding hot water to noodle cups.”

“I see,” Teddy laughed, “My dad’s a chef so, I always spent a lot of time with him learning recipes and such. Plus my grandparents were sort of incapable by the time I got old enough to use the kitchen, so I ended up helping them out a lot in that way.”

The shifter looked up curiously with those familiar big brown eyes, Teddy’s voice was very sweet, honey to the ears as his slight accent slipped into some of the words he said. Hosah wondered if he’d mind being asked to read him bedtime stories any time soon.

“Anyway, do your parents do anything cool?” Hosah taken out of the moment as the conversation was shifted onto himself,

“Ah, not really. You ever heard of Etsy? Kind of new, my dad’s a warrior on there. Always doing some kind of order. He’s a woodworking teacher at my hometown’s highschool, but lately he’s been focusing on his own online shop. It’s cool. He can make just about anything.” Hosah could go on for days in praise of his dad.

As he whisked the mixture of egg, cinnamon, and vanilla extract, the giant replied, “What do you mean not really? That is cool.”

The shifter looked down to his feet with a flustered smile, “Yeah, it is, I guess.”

“What about your mom?”

“Oh, she’s a nurse. Always pretty busy when we were kids. My parents had kind of an unconventional relationship, stay-at-home dad with my mom bringing home the bacon. Or, bread, we can’t eat bacon. I don’t know.”

“Hmm, you don’t like pork?” The clicking of the gas being lit on the stove sort of muffled what Teddy had asked, placing the soaked bread slices onto the lightly greased skillet.

“ Nah, ‘ts not kosher. I don’t even know, I don’t even really believe in religion all that strongly, but I’ve been doing it my whole life so, what’s the point in stopping now?” Hosah rambled on, unsure if what he was saying could be heard by whatever higher being he’d dedicated his life to pleasing, and if it’d come up in purification.

“Oh god I get that. I still find myself thinking back to some of the shit I learnt in school, ‘You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a woman’ , man tell that to all of your priests then, you know?” The shifter was kind of taken aback with how much passion Teddy seemed to have on the topic, and also with what he may or may not have just told him. His heart beat out of his chest, realising he might actually have a shot at what he’d been trying to scrub from his mind whenever he looked at the giant.

“Y-yeah, totally. It’s still nice though, I guess. Hope of something after life, reaping your rewards, finding out you were right the whole time and every one else was getting it all wrong.” Hosah turned, hiding his red face despite the fact his assistant was far too distracted with the task in front of him to notice.

Teddy exhaled a contemptuous ‘Pshh’ , “That’s the thing though, what if everyone else was right? I don’t even really believe in an afterlife, to be honest. I always just thought you were put back on earth at square one, with past lives and all that.” he shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m a Libra, I’m indecisive. I might tell you the opposite tomorrow.”

“I don’t even know what my zodiac sign is, not the most spiritual guy out there.”

“Well,” Teddy turned his head away from the sizzling pan and down onto the shrunken figure, “When’s your birthday?”

“June first.”

The giant squinted with a familiar coy smile that meant he was definitely up to no good,

“Gemini. Yeah. That makes so much sense.”

“Why, what does that mean, how does that make sense?” Hosah needed an explanation to why the giant seemed to be so understanding of the answer.

Teddy’s eyes adverted back in that annoying nonchalant way, “Well, they say you guys are clever, impulsive, communicative, and you contradict yourselves a lot.” That same smile curled up onto his face as he remembered one more thing, “And you’re bad at sex. But then again, these are just loose traits, they can apply to just about anyone. It’s fun to think about though.”

The statement completely flustered Hosah into a stunned silence, with no idea what to say or how to respond, so instead, Teddy added more to his side of the conversation,

“They do say that Libras and Geminis are really strong matches though, so we have that going for us. I’d like to think there’s some truth in it all. It’s just interesting, I like it.”

Hosah coughed out his words in embarrassment, “When’s your birthday, then?”

“October nineteenth. My sister’s birthday is only two days before mine.”

“Eugh, I’d hate that. Are you the youngest or the oldest?” Hosah acted as if he knew all too well about the middle child syndrome of being forgotten, despite being fully aware of his dad’s blatant favouritism in his favour.

Teddy reached over to the dried dish pile by the sink, the smell of the cooked toast wafting throughout the whole apartment, “Youngest. There’s only eighteen months between me and my sister though, so we’ve always been more like twins if anything.” Turning the heat off of the stove, he continued, “What about you? You have siblings also, right?”

“Mm, two brothers. One older, one younger. It was always kind of awkward, because me and my older brother are so close in age, but then my little brother and I have a ten year age gap. Felt like he missed out on a lot of older brother growing up experiences, made me feel bad and stuff.”

Teddy gave a sympathetic ‘Mmm’ in response, too distracted dishing out breakfast to really think of any sort of heartfelt reply.

“Aaand breakfast is served,” The giant turned his body to face the tiny figure to his left, although he had a sort of disappointed pout on his face. “Wish we had some syrup or something. Ah, oh well, maybe next time?”

The way his face shifted so quickly and with such ease was fascinating to Hosah, Teddy could go from upset to overjoyed in about half a second, or so, that’s how it looked on the outside.

He offered the palm once more after washing them thoroughly, and this time, Hosah had no trouble diving straight onto it, quickly becoming accustomed to the familiar feeling he thought he’d long forgotten.

In these mundane moments of making breakfast together, it was almost like Hosah could forget there was someone going around killing off shifters like flies being trapped in a cobweb. As if there wasn’t something waiting for him back at the office, hand delivered with his name inked on the front. What it was, he had no idea, and he was enjoying his blissful ignorance too much to dwell. After all, his brain didn’t really work normally at such early hours in the morning, and he was in no rush to reach full conscious stability.

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silvermaplealder · 1 year

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The lost boys are all at least some level of queer and not just because David's actively thirsting after Michael for the entire movie, but those boys are really physical with each other. I mean- they constantly be touching or standing really close to one another. And as a gay man who's lived in several conservative areas, let me tell ya, straight men don't like to stand that close to each other or be touched. It wasn't until I was around other queers that it was normal for a man to casually touch a man's shoulder, or put their hand on their back, etc. And hell yeah you share drinks from the same bottle, or share cigs and joints. I'd say this pack of vampires are at least all queer to some varying degrees. I'm not saying Marko's a sub for David but damn that boy definitely takes orders from David without hesitation.

So I've compiled some evidence for you to enjoy of the vampires being touch-y with one another in chronological order lol. Enjoy!

This one is very well known so of course I have to put it here. Right in the opening scene too:

And then there's this one. I actually almost missed this one, but if you look, either Dwayne or Paul has their hand on David's shoulder. Like there's no reason to? But he does it anyway:

And about two seconds later, Marko touches Dwayne's bicep. Terrible quality, sorry:

And another iconic photo, Paulie's hand on Dwayne's shoulder. Damn Dwayne's left shoulder gets more action than I do:

This one is really just a bonus of Paul standing really freaking close to David. I mean personal space, right? David's shoulder is practically in Paul's chest.

Now this one I find really fascinating. This is right after David gives Michael the joint, and the reason I find it interesting is because probably... ten-ish seconds before this David puts his hand on Michael's shoulder and Michael shoves it off. But this time he let's David do it. David stares at Michael a lot:

I'm going to say Paul doesn't give a crap about personal space because here he is in Michael's face after he pats him on the back:

Michael and Marko vibing:

I think this is such a cute one. Marko put his arm around Dwayne and Dwayne then returned it. So adorable! I had to edit it a little bit because it was very dark:

This next one is a small bonus, but just know that currently David has his arm around Michael (and I'll show that in the image after):

And then when the camera moves, you can see that David's arm is around Michael's back (you can see his wrist sticking out from his jacket just a bit. As he moves to face Michael you can see his hand move to Michael's shoulder):

And y'all know that after Michael falls from the bridge he's caught by David.

I left out some smaller things such as Paul playfully shoving Marko when getting on his bike and the kicking during the bridge scene. But I rest my case. These boys don't mind physical touch between each other, and even actively seek it out. Which, with 4 men living and sleeping together and being very co dependent, it just screams queer all over the place. Even in the book it mentions that the cave is larger and has other tunnels, but yet they'd all rather sleep together 🥺 ALSO just gonna point out that when David turns people, he makes them drink his blood, but at the end of the movie Max just goes to bite Lucy? Unless that's a perk that only the head vampire has, seems a little sus that David wants everyone to swallow his fluids

#tlb 1987 #lost boys #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david #vampires #dwayne tlb #tlb #marko tlb #tlb paul

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2a8n · 1 year

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Someone attacked Rock?!

Rock has been periodically attacked in the official works of the DSP, but this art caught my attention.

In one of the official works, we see that Rock in his humanoid form looks like this: "He wears a gray bust jacket over a black shirt, a pair of black gloves, light gray pants held by a black belt, black shoes, a red bandana scarf, and a dog tag". And one of his sprites in the Ice Scream Remake also matches this image, making it canon. The difference between the very first Rock I showed from these two is that the penguin doesn't have his jacket and bandana scarf. We remember it and move on.

Looking at these two works by DSP, we see the same lack of a jacket on Rock, as in previous works. In first art, we can even assume that our hot-tempered penguin is sitting in a cage. However, in second work by DSP was made by order of a certain janet_san, because of which it is not clear whether everything shown can be considered a convention for an order or whether it can be attributed to the canon. On it, Rock, unlike other art, has a bandana scarf. Based on what we saw, it can be assumed that Rock on the street (in humanoid form) puts on a jacket and bandana scarf, but not indoors. I came to this assumption because of the art of Rock in a cage, where the cage itself is indoors, and not on the street (this makes sense, if only because Rock can put on a jacket and bandana scarf corny because of the cold, while inside the buildings he is noticeably warmer, which is why he can take off all these things). In the second art, Rock couldn't take off his bandana scarf due to the fact that the penguin was attacked by the Orca before he could do it. But he managed to take off his jacket. And the cake is more likely to be given to someone indoors than outdoors, which also indicates that Idate and Rock are inside some building in the second art.

By the way, about Orca, although this guy is the attacker in most of those works of DSP, where, in principle, an attack was made on Rock, but in the very first art I showed, it doesn’t look like he was the attacker. First, Idate doesn't use weapons in his "games", considering it a "cheating". An exception is "Educational Program on Abuse by Syachi-Sensei", and then as a demonstration, and not for direct pleasure in violence. Another exception is the art where Orca threw darts at a eyebrowed penguin, but without the context it's not entirely clear for what purpose he did this (for the purpose of violence or for the purpose of ostentatious violence). Secondly, Idate often tries to hit Rock with his fists. But on the very first art I showed, you can see, rather, not a wound from beatings or scratches, but cuts - as if the wounds were inflicted by a sharp blade of some cold weapon. And thirdly, the reaction of the penguin. If you look closely, when his "childhood friend" mocks him, he doesn't show as much surprise as in the very first work I showed. This clearly tells us that Rock didn't expect the attack, which would be strange in the case of Idate.

Based on all the points I have mentioned, I assume the following: 1) Rock was attacked in his house, because he was not wearing a jacket and bandana scarf, as he takes off these things while indoors. The attack could have been completely in a different building, but then the one who could invite him to them house and/or to whom Rock could come to visit must have Rock's trust in his person and/or have a good enough reason to penguin came. I doubt that all this could be completely Orca for the reasons stated earlier. 2) Attacked him with a cold weapon, judging by the wounds received on the face (at least it doesn't look like a wound received when hit on the head, but, rather, like a shallow cut - even the eye wasn't damaged), on the neck (judging by the blood at Rock's mouth, the neck was definitely hit) and the stomach (it's more interesting here: judging by the blood spatter that can "follow" the weapon, then the blow to the stomach was probably a stabbing, not a cutting type - it was as if they had stuck and pulled out the instrument of crime horizontally on blade into him, because of which blood gushed in a similar way). The last one was a blow to the stomach, judging by the same bloody splashes. 3) The weapon for attack could serve as a knife, as a sword, and as a katana. Remarkably, as many as 3 katanas are hanging in Rock's house, because of which the criminal, even without a weapon, could attack with the help of weapons that are in Rock's house (provided that the attack could happend exactly there and/or that the attacker knew about the presence of weapons in this house). The knife is always available in someone's kitchen, unlike the katanas in Rock's house. 4) The criminal could be the one from whom the penguin didn't expect an attack in his direction at all (his reaction of surprise confirms this). 5) Rock could be attacked purposefully or unintentionally. In all these cases, our quick-tempered penguin could become for someone an "undesirable witness" to another crime, an "obstacle" in achieving something, a "threat" (real or imagined) life, exposure or personal well-being. The wound on the face isn't deep, which may indicate that initially the criminal allegedly made a "backhand swing" or not with the intent to kill, but then it developed into a full-fledged attack (maybe even in the heat of passion). 6) They could get into Rock's house both in the absence of the owner himself, and at the invitation of a hot-tempered penguin. In the first case, it could be an attempt to rob a criminal or an attempt to pick up/return something from Rock's house, which the owner of the house himself then caught at the wrong time, which is why all this situattion began. The second case is unlikely, but if this is still possible, then it is likely that Rock will invite someone to settle something, but either due to a misunderstanding, or deliberately, the criminal will attack him.

That's all. If I continue to guess about who this very attacker could have been, then it will turn out to be a whole book with illustrations, and not a regular Tumblr post. Feel free to share your thoughts on all of this. It would be interesting to read other people's conjectures, and maybe be inspired by them to create a new post. ;)

#funamusea #okegom #deep-sea prisoner #deep sea prisoner #ice scream #funameme #ice scream funamusea #ice scream deep sea prisoner #ice scream deep-sea prisoner #rock (ice scream)#rock #idate (ice scream)#ice scream idate #idate (watgbs)#idate mogeko #idate okegom #idate

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