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birdy-the-tweet · 5 months

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❄️•Nexocember•❄️

Day 3 - Monster

Another writing prompt for Day 3 of Nexocember! Today, I'm gonna delve a little into the future of the rewrite and in the climax of Aaron's story arc as he makes his final stride on the path to meet his end at the hands of the Green Knight.

Firefox mentions below as well! I think that's the ship name for Macy and Aaron? I dunno, I love a good DnD pun so I call them Drakewarden. Y'know, after Drakewarden Ranger- yeah okay I'll shut up.

Enjoy!

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Time Stamp: S7 E7 - Same Mistake

Not once in his life had he ever called a single person, machine, creature, or beast a monster.

It was like how some people refused to say they “hated” someone when “greatly dislike” or “not fond of” worked just fine instead. The word “monster” was more than just a label scholars would throw around when discussing the great trials and tribulations of Knighton’s formation and cementing. It described the actions of a man as so vile and horrid, they couldn’t be deemed human for thinking any of their decisions were sane or morally right. It was one thing to be a bad person, perhaps even troubled or misguided, but to be a monster… To Aaron, there was a threshold to reach before anything could earn that title.

He’d known plenty of bad people growing up. The knights who were stationed in Grindstead? No most of those were bad people, entitled jerks who flaunted their shields like it was the crown of the Halberts and dragged many civilians into poverty, anxiety, and servitude. Only recently did he get the chance to learn of a few knights who broke the modern criteria, his classmates included. None of them were bad people, not even Clay. Especially not Clay.

He wished he could’ve said goodbye to all of them.

Pacing tensely through the lush green domain of trees and life, the Emerald Knight approached an archway naturally crafted of eroded stone and slithering flower vines. He discarded his armor at the camp, now dressed in nothing but a worn down tunic, a pair of grime-stained trousers, and his only pair of shoes that survived long enough to reach this point of the journey. One year ago, a week or so before today, he stupidly made a deal with a fey to partake in a twisted game of fate. He killed the creature with a single swing of an axe. Now it was his turn to die.

Regrets fluttered in his mind like agitated wasps, gnawing at his brain as he drew closer to the unnerving ruins before him. He knew he should’ve said goodbye to his team. He knew he should’ve visited the place where they let Clay’s statue rest. He knew he should’ve been kinder to his parents instead of losing his temper during what he liked to call his Last Supper. He knew he should’ve told his siblings about what would happen to him, now knowing they would spend the next Candle Festival questioning why they didn’t receive a present from him.

He knew he should’ve said goodbye to Macy instead of leaving her at the campsite to wake up without him.

Hazy eyes stinging with exhaustion winced as he drew his gaze to the stone arch. Glimmers of blue danced around the mineral on soft gusts of morning wind. Butterflies. They were butterflies. He’d seen butterflies like those before. They would hover close around…

Yep. This was the right place. The Green Chapel, as the fey put it all that time ago.

A year of rancid dreams slaughtering his sleeping self time and time again in more excruciating ways than the last, now put to rest at the terror of knowing it was moments away from reality. This was it. The moment he stepped through the archway and into the greenery of the ruins, his life would come to an end. It didn’t scare him necessarily, for nothing did. But he wished he had more time to make his life more complete. An apology to Clay for being a thorn in his neck all these years would’ve been wonderful. A hug to Axl would make him worry less about his well being. And oh, what he’d give to see what was really under Dauntless’s mask. He should’ve kissed Macy too.

No. He couldn’t be thinking about those things, about the “what ifs” and “what could’ve beens”. There were a smorgasbord of achievements he collected like limited edition figurines over the years, and this year especially was in mint condition as Macy would say. He became a knight of the realm, something he didn’t think he’d enjoy at that time but grew to appreciate throughout the last few months. His unique talent for sports and parkour grew to astronomical levels, so much so he could scale the entire city of Knightonia without any more than a cut on his arm. While the stress of being the kingdom’s only protectors drained him of his smile from time to time, he got to see more of the realm in a span of five months than a normal coastline civilian would ever see in fifty years. He introduced Axl to the team and helped him become an official knight in training, and he rescued both Pola and Fred from their father’s schemes. The knights had battled lava monsters, stone lycans, vicious techno vampires, ocean spirits, giant kings; all of which wouldn't have been possible without the unintentional family they all had become. With Robin and Ava's intelligence and ingenuity, Merlok's guidance and magic, Axl and Flint's contributions as a sixth knight and a spy against the enemy, and the long, strenuous marathon of growth and teamwork the five of them had developed over almost five years, why, the kingdom would've been in much worse shape.

They were a family now. He couldn't deny it now that he gave it more thought at his final moments. Even though he was forced into a role that gave him more heart ache, stress, anger, and injustice than a woman fisherman working among monster hunters, he wouldn't have changed a single moment of his late adolescence and early adulthood. It humbled him - in an odd way - and made him aware of his fragility and humanity. He found the love of his life, he made some killer friends at the academy, he traveled the realm and witnessed spectacles and horrors beyond the imagination. But if he could wish for anything, he'd want a future with those people. Just one more day would've been great. He'd make it the best day of his life even if it was his last.

"Green Knight?!" bellowed the ginger haired knight into the wind, the breeze catching his words and whisking them into the heart of the empty clearing. When silence answered, he felt a boiling tinge of unease. "I'm here! A little late, but had some detouring to do. You're not exactly good at giving directions, ya know."

More silence. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. For the love of the storm, he hated this. Not even the Fortrex at the dead of night was this quiet; there was always a gentle hum in the RV's walls and enough snoring to keep his mind calm. Where was this fey? It told him to find him at the Green Chapel, did it not? It was like it wanted him to lose his sanity before dealing the final blow, like it found it funny to watch him unravel into broken breaths and trembling limbs. He could already feel the headache from the lack of air pooling his lungs like a shallow low tide.

All of his optimism had been wasted on an idiotic idea that maybe, just maybe, he could weasel his way out of his doom. Maybe if he showed the creature he was worth sparing, or maybe if he showed kindness and courage, he'd be fine. But again, silence answered. It didn't care. Of course it didn't care. It just wanted to shed blood.

Clenching his teeth and stifling a snarl behind a low, guttural exhale, Aaron barked at the wind. "HEY. WHERE ARE YOU?? You made me go all this way for NOTHING OR SOMETHING?? What, chickening out now?? I thought you were SO THRILLED to kill me! Having second thoughts now?? You made me think I was gonna die in some horrible way all year long for NOTHING? WHERE IN GOD'S BLOOD ARE YOU YOU A-"

A creak of wood groaned through the canopy, stealing his breath before he could finish his sentence. His jaw rattled as he inhaled unstably and craned his head to the branches above his head. Not all of the branches were... branches.

It was exactly how his dreams played out. A head crowned in wooden horns twitched like an ant infected by cordyceps. Some of the tree limbs twisted and unraveled from the trunks, revealing a pair of massive fingers made of the same wooden material as buried roots. Growls and moans hoarsely crackled through the bark of the creature hoisting itself from the shadows.

His blood ran cold, feet frozen in the earth despite not processing fear from its presence. It took its time to show itself. No, it waited until he lost his temper to show itself. This was nothing but a game, a fey prank in the most horrendous form, and he was the victim of the emotional turmoil it found so deliciously amusing. He felt so stupid for ever thinking it would ever have the heart to spare him. All the insomnia, the stress, the dread of knowing he wouldn't see the flowers of spring, the loss of appetite and nausea after nightmares made him nothing more than a lunch for the beast, the breakdowns, the apologies to loved ones, and every day he had to wear a fake smile just so nobody would worry when the time came for him to vanish; the fey didn't care. It was all entertainment. It was all part of the game.

Not once in his life had he ever called a single person, machine, creature, or beast a monster.

But in that moment, when the Green Knight lowered itself from the canopy of the woodlands and glared down at him with a skeletal mask for a wooden face, only one thing left Aaron's mouth.

"...oh you monster."

#nexo knights #lego nexo knights #aaron fox #nexo knights aaron #nexocember

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002yb · 2 years

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Your dickjay fics are so scrumptious! I love them thank you for writing so many wonderful fics about my favourite ship! For the prompt ask, can you write about their first date?

A playful tug at his belt loop has Jason rolling his eyes, but he relents to the affectionate manhandling and lets himself be turned to face Dick properly. Dick’s fingers drop to Jason’s pocket, hooking into the material before he pulls Jason forward–smile wicked and ornery and wonderful. It makes Jason’s heart race to be this close: pressed together nearly chest to chest, nose to nose.

If one of them leaned forward just a bit, their lips would brush together. Just the thought has a shiver racing up his spine, a visible tremble of anticipation that has Dick’s lips curling into a lecherous little smirk. His hands wander, spanning over Jason’s hips, thumbs pressing up along the bone before stroking up to the small of his waist and curving down, down—over the curve of Jason’s ass and straight into the back pockets of Jason’s pants.

“Hey handsome.” Dick drawls around an easy and flirty smile. There’s a brightness in his eyes, mirthful and mischievous.

Jason scoffs, lifting his arms to rest them over Dick’s shoulders. His lips quirk just a bit, all exasperated humor and easy comfort when he says, “Hey yourself.”

At Dick’s encouragement and subtle guidance, they sway. An easy, relaxed back and forth–a slow dance around the tiny kitchenette of Dick’s apartment. The way Dick turns and presses a kiss to Jason’s bicep, just above the crook of Jason’s arm–that tenderness–it steals Jason’s breath. It’s like there are butterflies in his stomach, just like that. Like his heart is full to overflowing. Dick keeps his lips pressed there, meeting Jason’s gaze and smirking because Jason can’t help the flush that settles over his cheeks at the easy affection.

Although Jason had been expecting it, having his ass pinched startles him enough that Jason jumps a bit. It makes Dick laugh, nuzzling into Jason’s arm as he snickers until Jason pulls Dick by the hair in retaliation. It’s half-hearted roughhousing from there, only not really because neither of them let go of the other. They just shuffle around the kitchen, ducking and leaning and trying to stamp on each others’ toes.

“Ornery little punkass.” Dick calls him, all fondness and endearment.

“Rat bastard.” Jason snarks back. Just as fond. Just as endeared.

The name-calling has Dick smiling at him, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together before he hums an acknowledging, “Smells good. You cooked?”

“Only because I know domesticity turns you on.” Jason quips.

It makes Dick snicker, pulling away as he gooses Jason again, “Shut up.”

“Want to go house hunting together? Pick out paint swatches for the walls?” Jason taunts playfully, his smile all teeth and bite and menace. He cackles a bit when Dick’s cheeks flush with color, Dick’s smile breaking wide across his face. More happy than embarrassed, but it still prompts Jason to tease with a cheeky, “Maybe hit up a grocery store. We can share a basket and everything.”

Ornery little punkass, indeed. At the same time though, Dick is every bit a rat bastard. He looks at Jason with open adoration, hands slipping from Jason’s pockets to get a grip on his hips and lifts Jason up onto the counter so that Dick can slot between Jason’s thighs. Jason draws him closer, his arms still around Dick’s neck, his leg wrapping around the man and tugging him in.

Dick rests his hands on the counter and looks up at him–eyes blue, blue, blue even in the shoddy artificial light. The flirtiness in his smile is marginal, replaced by earnest warmth and something altogether overwhelming. It makes Jason fluster; almost makes him feel shy.

Something in Jason’s expression or body language must give away his sudden bashfulness, because Dick smiles: soft and tender. “Yeah,” He breathes, voice low in a way that feels vulnerable and intimate. He holds Jason’s gaze and lets his smile become something a bit brighter, a little hopeful, “I want to do all of that with you one day.”

Jason’s heart might skip. There might be butterflies in his stomach, ready to come tearing out of his throat. Giddiness bubbles up in him, a youthful sort of wonder.

“Careful,” Jason warns. “That almost sounds like–”

“I know.” Dick tells him, so certain and at ease despite the weight of the sentiment in his words.

They’ve had this thing going between them for a long time now; all fun and zero expectations. It’s always just been fooling around, even when it stopped being just fooling around. Jason’s breath catches in his chest, arms going lax around Dick’s neck. The inherent romanticism of it all has his soul singing, but at the same time his thoughts start to spiral, faster and faster until Dick catches him, hands over top of Jason’s, head tilted until Jason finds his gaze again.

DIck smiles, taking away all the pressure because this is familiar. Dick’s hands; those bright eyes; that charming smile.

“Let’s start with a date?”

----- Thank you for the support, anon! Thank you for the prompt too, though admittedly my fills seem to be becoming more and more ?? with where I take them. Ahahah, whoops. ◝( ′ㅂ`)و ̑̑

#jaydick #dickjay #jason todd #dick grayson #prompt fill #words

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fowardfashionfindz · 2 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Natural Peridot Earrings Silver Gold Plated.

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barelyaware · 3 years

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Hey! Turned this into a fic!

Will be posting updates on ao3

Day 21: Her Majesty, Our Queen

Purely Political Chapter 1:

Zuko knows this is a political marriage. Less a bond and more a contact between two nations to enforce the fragile peace between them.

And yet, he still keeps every letter she sends him in a drawer in his desk. He still keeps her portrait in his pocket. He still gives every trinket she sends him a special place in his chambers.

Zuko knows for certain there won't be romance between them. Not with the way he is, not with his temper, and certainly not with his scars.

He doesn't want to give himself false hope. He knows he'll only break his own heart if he can't cool down these fiercely warm and gentle feelings that bubble up inside him everytime he hears her name.

He knows this..But his heart won't stop beating out of his chest the night before her arrival just the same.

He doesn't sleep that night and when the sun finally rises, he rushes to put on his Fire Lord regalia and waits by a balcony that looks on the docks.

He tries to use the time to meditate but his head is too full of Katara .

Will she look like her portrait? What does her voice sound like? Her laugh? What will she say to me? What will she think of me when she sees?

It's two hours of these thoughts later that he finally sees the ships in the distance, the familiar insignia from the wax of her letters stamped onto the flags of masts towering above the horizon. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and forces his feet one after the other toward the banquet hall where he'll be receiving her delegation.

It's not too much longer before Uncle joins him. He tells a joke that Zuko barely hears and places a hand on his shoulder that temporarily calms his butterflies.

Soon after, his mother, stepfather, and half-sister arrive. The wedding is scheduled a week from today and they're all planning to stay to support him. Azula is still being hospitalized and although she's been able to visit him in the palace on a few occasions, he doesn't believe she's stable enough to meet his future wife. He really does love her, but he won't do anything to risk this marriage. Maybe one day they will meet, but he doubts it will be anytime soon.

“Zuzu!” Kiyi hugs his leg from a running start.

“Wow, look how much you've grown!.”

Kiyi smiles broadly. “I've gained three centimeters since you last saw me!

Zuko smiles back, patting her head gently enough that her intricate hairstyle isn't ruined. But before he can respond, the doors open once more.

Zuko’s jaw drops.

He thought Katara was beautiful in her portrait, but it's nothing compared to the real thing. Her eyes are like sapphires, bright and twinkling as they take in the room and he finds himself frozen in place. When he finally breaks away his gaze, his heart swells as he notices the necklace he carved for her displayed below her mother's on a beautiful strand of pearls.

Uncle had mentioned that it was a standard practice and when he asked if he could make one for her, she'd seemed delighted. But it was one thing to hear it in a letter and quite another to see the stone, carved with two crescent moons surrounding a flame, resting above her heart.

He fights against the dopey grin that seems determined to plaster itself on his face and does his best to keep his voice even and calm.

“Greetings Princess Katara and the delegation from the Southern Watertribe.” Her eyes meet his and he tries to swallow the painful knot that forms when she frowns at him, albeit briefly. “We are humbled by your acceptance of this alliance and hope your accommodations are satisfactory. Our servants are at your service during your stay and I am available if any problems arise. Thank you for your presence and welcome.”

A polite round of applause follows before the servants lead the delegation to their seats. Katara and Zuko have their own table at the end of the hall, just far enough away to hold a private conversation if they keep their voices down.

Zuko sits down and Katara joins him gracefully, the frown long since replaced by a neutral expression.

“Thank you again for coming, Master Katara.” Her frown returns, along with the painful knot in Zuko's throat.

“Well, which is it going to be?”

Zuko looks back at her blankly. “I'm sorry?”

“Is it Princess or Master?”

Zuko blinks slowly, still not quite sure what she means. “I’m sorry, I assumed you wanted to be called by the title you earned, based on your letters. But I meant no disrespect.”

“Then why did you call me princess?”

Zuko tries not to stare at her mouth too much as it moves. “I was just standing on ceremony because you were in front of your delegation.”

“..Oh.”

“Is that okay? I will call you whatever you want, really. And I'm sorry if I made a mistake.”

“No, no, I'm sorry, I just..you called me Master in your letters and I was just..confused at the change.” He takes note of the subtle blush dusting her cheeks and feels the tightness in his throat dissipate. “Should I call you Firelord then?”

“No. I mean, if it's not too much, please just call me Zuko.”

“It's not too much, Zuko,” she smiled. He can feel a warmth blooming in his chest when she says his name. “I really do hope we can at least be friends.”

Zuko smiles back and it's only a tiny bit forced.

“Thank you, Master Katara.”

Katara clears her throat a little. “I'm sorry for making a fuss...I mean... just Katara is fine.”

“Of course, just Katara.”

Katara smiles again, this time so brightly Zuko gets lost in it for a moment, and this time he doesn't fight his dopey grin.

At least we can be friends.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

#Zutara #zutara fanart #zutara fanfic #atla fanfic #atla #atla fanart #zuko #katara #katara fanart #zutara month 2021 #zutara month #zutaramonth #my art #my fanfic #my posts #My fic

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stay-tinystars · 3 years

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Colors: Masquerade

Ship: Hyunjin x Fem reader

Non idol au, Soul Mate AU

Warnings: sarcasm, bitter feelings, tripping over things, slight hitting/slapping (nothing violent), Chan is a tease, reader is implied to be older, I think that's it.

Word count: 4.2 k

A/N: So I wanted to write something for Hyunjins birthday. I always have been intrigued by Soul mate AUs so I wrote one. I haven't seen this one done before, so I hope you all like it. I plan on doing a one shot for each SKZ member for this AU. So some skz members will feature slightly in this and future stories. The series will be called Colors.

I hope you enjoy! And Happy birthday to Hyunjin! He is amazing, talented, and just drop dead gorgeous! Happy 21st international birthday! --story published Mar 19 2021 6:00pm MDT

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Most people couldn't wait to meet their soulmate. The one person who would change not only your life, but your eyes.

Everyone was born with two different colored eyes, they say those colors determined your childhood. Overall they generalized the colors; Blues usually meant they were inspired kids, inspiring themselves and others to do great things. Green meant they had luck on their side. Brown had resilient personalities, bringing a sense of dependability to others. Purples were very independent and creative. Grays had a sophistication that most children lacked. And so on and so forth. By the time you reached middle school everyone knew what their exact eye colors meant, and some say it predicted how you would find someone.

Eyes however didn't remain two separate colors your whole life. Once you met your soulmate they changed almost in an instant, color shifting for a few seconds until your eye color perfectly matched that of your mates. Some say time seemed to stop once they noticed their mates' eyes changing, but one thing was for sure no one felt their eyes change color, the only thing they usually felt was their heart speeding up.

You originally couldn't wait to find your soul mate. You got caught up in the feeling of it all. You believed he would be everything you wanted and more. During your teens it's all you dreamed about, how you'd meet in some perfect way, how he would sweep you off your feet. However the past few years had made you bitter, watching friend after friend find their mate leaving you in the dust.

"You'll be the same when you find your mate" they would say as you grimaced as they would kiss and cuddle in front of you. Most of those so called friends never invited you to things anymore, because you couldn't relate because you didn't have someone. They said it was because they didn't want you to feel like the third wheel, but mostly you knew it's because they pitied you for not having someone. "It's a shame you don't have anyone, I hope he's still around somewhere"

You were starting to feel like you had some sort of disease, because that's how you were treated by those 'friends'.

Things only felt worse as you stared at the flyer someone slid under your door.

-----

Hyunjin pov

"Mandatory masquerade spring formal." He read as he lifted the flyer from the pile of mail next to his door. Hyunjin hated these mandatory regional events. At least this one was just a formal instead of a full costume ball, like the last one. The large cities throw these balls, three times a year. Anyone over the age of 20, who hadn't found their soulmate was required to go. This would be his third ball, he hoped it would be his last. Sure he wanted to meet his soulmate, but mostly he wanted all the girls who came to these things to stop throwing themselves at him, staring at his eyes hoping to see a change. Most would find it flattering, in fact Hyunjin did back in high-school he always loved the attention. Curious which girl would try during lunch that day. Now it was getting old, he wanted someone who truly saw his soul, not just his good looks.

Hyunjin sighed as he looked at himself in the floor length mirror, black suit pants, navy silk long sleeve button up with the top three buttons undone. A dark night sky scene was painted on the mask that rested on his nose. His long dark hair pulled away from his face. His eyes unchanged, still two different colors. One burnt umber, the other ocean blue.

He was curious of what color his eyes would change to once he met his soulmate, he heard it depends on how and when they meet.

For instance, his dad had similar eye colors to his before he met mom. They met on a stormy day, each on their way their jobs enjoying the rain. They met while dancing out in the light spring shower while waiting at a crosswalk. Now his parents both had beautiful bright gray eyes, the same color as the storm clouds as they parted for the sun that day.

Would his eyes turn the Navy he had chosen for this dance if he met her tonight? He sighed to himself, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his things and left his apartment.

Reader pov.

At least the food they provided at these mandatory balls was delicious, it seemed the only incentive that was worth the trouble of being here. The numerous hors d'oeuvres were delicious, and you had a plate full of all the different types to make sure they still tasted delicious.

Truthfully you hated being here. You had been to too many of these things to count. At this point you wondered if your soulmate was dead, or lost somewhere. Simply because you hadn't met him yet, and it felt as if time was ticking. Maybe that's because your friends all found their mates within the year you all turned twenty. Now here you were five years later, still with miss matched eyes. One pewter gray, one lavender.

You wore the same dress you always did to these balls. At first it made you feel amazing, like a princess. Now it only brought you bitterness. The purple satin that faded to blue, a galaxy made of glitter across the bodice. The mask on your face was silver, making your eyes seem to shine.

"You look bored" a familiar voice got your attention, as he sat at the empty table next to you. Dressed in all black as he usually was. Looking devilishly handsome as always.

"Chan, I'm always bored at these things. You're the only one who talks to me" you sighed leaning on the table as you looked towards him.

Chan was a god send at these things. He became your friend a few years ago, during one of these balls. His dimples made every girl swoon, it was the first thing you noticed about him, but what made you stay was the wonderful caring conversation that was so rare at these things. He actually wanted friends, not just a soulmate. He was truly a social butterfly.

"Maybe if you leave the table, and stop glaring at anyone who approaches, someone might talk to you." His mischievous eyes of emerald green and royal purple danced beneath his black mask, as he stole some hors d'oeuvres off your plate. Popping one into his mouth.

"Shut up Chan, not all of us are as charming as you!" you playfully hit his arm. He gasped softly and grabbed his arm in fake pain.

"I'm sure you could be somewhat charming. That is, if you took the "F off" stamp off your forehead." he teased making a face at you.

"Very funny" Rolling your eyes, looking back towards your plate of food, then towards the dance floor which was filled with eager young people, all dancing and talking. Switching partners every song or so. You watched as one couple suddenly stopped dancing, their eyes growing large. She squealed, jumping up and down as he hugged her. Another happy couple, another soulmate found.

You wanted to vomit.

"I want to know how neither of us have found our match, we've both been too far too many of these." You groaned, sliding down in your chair. Not caring how unladylike it was. You glanced towards Chan, who was just enjoying watching everyone.

"I suspect my match is elsewhere" his words wise, his eyes looking towards the newest happy couple fondly. "I think they might be at one of these in their own region"

"She probably is cursing your name right now, wondering why you are taking so long to find her." you started.

"Like you are cursing yours right now?" You wanted to smack that smirk off his face.

"Chan you can be infuriating." You stood, smoothing out your skirt. Chan chuckled following you. Knowing you wanted some fresh air.

"Maybe you don't want to crash the next regional dance with me." he nudged you as you both walked around the main crowd, towards the large outdoor balcony.

"Now that is a good idea, I didn't think you had any of those left" you looked towards him with a shocked expression. Your foot caught on something, then someone's body bumped into yours.

That's when you ended up flat on your back, your mask slightly askew.

The music seemed to stop. In fact it had. You looked at your converse clad feet which were tangled in the electrical cords from the DJ booth. Chan was laughing. The DJ scrambled from the booth to fix the electrical situation. You shifted, untangling yourself best as possible from the cords. Muttering a slight apology to the frazzled dark haired man, as he gathered the cords quickly.

"I'm so sorry!" A new voice said as he stumbled to his feet beside you. His navy shirt hanging loosely around him. "I wasn't even looking where I was going," he said, dusting himself off. Then looking at you, and offering a hand.

"It's my fault too, I wasn't looking." You said taking his hand, to help you to your feet. Then glaring at Chan who was beside himself with fits of laughter. "I was too busy chiding my friend" you gestured towards Chan, shaking your head.

"My name is Hyunjin" the handsome man smiled, his mask shimmered as the little iridescent stars caught light.

"Y/N " you said with a slight bow, fixing your mask.

"It's nice to meet you, I haven't seen you here before." he smiled, he was ridiculously attractive.

"Well she's been here, forever" Chan exaggerated as he leaned on your shoulder. You shoved him away.

"Shut up Chan."

"Well you have!" He put his hand up in mock defense.

"I'm so done with you!" You walked away, then turned to Hyunjin and gave a quick wave. He gave a small nod, as a girl approached him tapping him on the shoulder.

You took that as your queue to leave. You felt so done with everything, still hadn't felt that spark everyone gushed about. You felt slightly embarrassed about cutting the music with your own clumsy feet. You made a fool of yourself thanks to Chan, you just knew you needed out.

When you got home you were exhausted, and changed out of your gown, and quickly washed your face then just went to bed.

------

Hyunjin

Hyunjin nodded, as the strange but cute girl practically ran away. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder his attention was brought to a girl in a pink poofy ball gown. The music was starting up again, he knew she was going to ask him to dance. Why had he come in from the balcony?

"So I've been watching you all night. And…." Her eyes widened. "What color are my eyes?" She asked quickly, her words stumbling out of her mouth.

"Um.." Hyunjin cocked his brows as he looked closer, kind of confused. "Dark blue, and light green?"

Her face fell, then he saw multiple emotions flash over her face, ending in anger.

"Why are you here if you already have a soulmate? Shouldn't you be with them!" She practically yelled. Hyunjin was confused, as the girl slapped his arm and ran away. What a strange turn of events. First he ran into that girl, Y/n? Now he just got some weird girl thinking he had a soulmate, these balls got worse every time, maybe he would call it a night.

He went to the bathroom, still bewildered by the weird situation that just happened. As he took off his mask he looked in the mirror.

"What the hell?!" He yelled at his reflection, leaning on the counter, getting closer to the mirror. Both ofHis eyes a bright flaming orange. He felt as if he was looking at a campfire in his eyes. His mind started reeling. How had he met his soulmate? He had barely talked to anyone all night, he had hid on the balcony outside for the first hour of this thing, just eating the hors d'oeuvres that were provided. He then came inside to try to make the night worthwhile, and while looking at the decorated ballroom, he ran into someone, literally. That's when it clicked, the girl he literally ran into, it had to be her. She was the only one he talked to!

"Y/N, I've got to find Y/N!" He grabbed his mask and ran out of the bathroom.

Two hours of searching later, Hyunjin sat defeated at a random table. He sat his mask down and slumped in the chair, as he watched happy couples in pairs all around the room. That's what was supposed to be happening to him right now, staring into his soul mates eyes, dancing the night away without a care in the world.

Who had ever heard of a soulmate who didn't know. A soulmate who didn't say anything. These stupid masks, they cover up half your face, distorting the eyes. The dark room. How did they expect people to see the change with those factors?

He always heard that when you saw the change and knew, but he hadn't seen her eyes change, plus she ran off so quickly. Maybe he should've gone after her. No, that would've been creepy, plus he didn't know at the time.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't even sure exactly what she looked like. That's when he saw his chance. He swears that's Y/Ns friend from earlier, in the all black and black mask talking to the DJ right now. Hyunjin quickly stood and bee lined towards the man in black.

"Excuse me, your Chan right?" Hyunjin said, approaching him.

"Yes, and you're Hyunjin?" The man smiled, as Hyunjin nodded. Chan resumed watching the people on the dance floor in front of him.

"Yeah, I, uh, ran into your friend Y/N earlier" Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah you did, quite literally." he chuckled, side eying and gently elbowing Hyunjin.

"Well that's the thing. I kind of need to find her."

"Did she break your phone or something?" He asked.

"No, she's kind of my soulmate." Hyunjin blurted.

"What?" Chan choked on air, as his eyes bugged out. He turned and grabbed Hyunjin's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he saw the orange in his eyes.

"She's the first one I talked to tonight at this stupid thing. After hiding on the balcony. I didn't even know it happened til another girl started to flirt with me." Hyunjin now turned his attention to the dance floor.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but she's long gone." Hyunjin felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I figured, since I've been looking for her for over two hours" he heard the other male grimace on his behalf.

"So I was wondering if you could help me out. All I know about her is her first name." Hyunjin looked towards his shoes, trying to distract himself with the nice polished shine.

"Well I could help," Chan smirked and Hyunjins head snapped up looking at him, "but I'm not sure I owe Y/N the courtesy of helping her out." Chans mischievous two toned eyes shone playfully.

"I thought she was your friend" Hyunjin was slightly confused, yet again this evening.

"Oh she is, she just owes me after bailing on me tonight." He looked at his phone. "And being as I have no messages from her freaking out. I bet she didn't even notice before she went to sleep"

They exchanged information, Chan excited to be in the middle of this. Curious of how you would react in the morning. Promising Hyunjin to keep him informed.

-----

Your pov

The blaring alarm on your phone made you groan, you silenced it and rolled back over. Some days you wish you didn't have to work, but being a manager over editing on the largest magazine in the city meant you couldn't miss work. Yet you still fell back asleep.

When your alarm went off to tell you it was time to leave you woke up in a panic. You quickly showered and dressed, grabbing some breakfast then you were out the door, not even bothering with makeup as you were going to be late.

"Oh my gosh! Tell me everything!" Joy, your second in command gushed as you entered the office.

"Nothing out of the ordinary at those stupid balls. Food again was the only reason to attend" you muttered as you set your things down on your desk, and plopped in your chair.

"Obviously that's a lie! Now tell me what really happened!" Joy pestered. Her vivid seafoam green eyes, staring you down. She found her soulmate just after she started working with you, but she always wanted to gossip and talk about those meeting their matches. It intrigued her for some reason.

"I told you everything. I went ate food, watched all the stupid romantic couples, headed outside. Tripped on the cords for the DJ booth then left." You huffed, leaning back. She put her hands on your chair making you face her. You cocked your eyebrows at her.

"You don't know? How can you not know" Her words confusing, and accusing.

"Joy, what are you talking about?" You groaned. She then dug in her purse bringing out her compact.

"I know I didn't do my makeup today."

"Just look in the mirror"

"But-"

"Just look in the mirror Y/N" you grabbed the compact from her hand and looked at yourself, trying to see what she was talking about. Nothing seemed out of place, you didn't have any bruises from the collision last night. You went to close the mirror when you glimpsed orange. You immediately pulled it back to your face. Eyes wide.

"I…. What?" Your words lost and confused.

"Now tell me about him!" She sat on the edge of your desk looking at you.

"I only talked to Chan last night. And we both know he isn't my match" you sat staring at the mirror in your hand. Going through everything that happened, you grabbed your phone. Quickly texting Chan.

--What color are your eyes???

you hadn't heard of knowing someone for years before they became a soulmate but you had to ask.

"Well you had to have met someone new" she nudged your leg.

"That's the thing, I don't remember talking to anyone else. Just Chan annoying me, then-" the sudden realization hit you. "I ran into someone, literally"

"Of course that's how you would meet your match" she nodded. "You are kind of clumsy"

"Oh hush!" You pushed her slightly, she just laughed.

"So tell me about him"

"Um, he was handsome? I think his name was Hajun? No, Hyunwoo? I don't remember. I was a little frazzled last night. Plus we only talked for a second after we both ended up on the floor" you muttered, leaning back in your chair again looking at the ceiling. When your phone buzzed.

-why are yours perhaps a different color

-say orange? 😏

--Well I never expected you to be my soulmate after all this time….

- what are you going on about? My eyes are still a perfect green and purple.

--Chan what do you know...

- Far more than you think

--Chan tell me! Did you talk to Hyunwoo?

-I don't know a Hyunwoo.

-do you perhaps mean Hyunjin?

-- YES! Hyunjin! Are his eyes also orange

-- dumb question

--you told me orange before I told you what color my eyes are.

-this is actually very entertaining

- you're over thinking everything aren't you.

-- Shut up Chan!

-- Do you have his info

- Maybe, but you told me to shut up so I will!

--Chan! No!

-- Please!

--I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you! I need his number.

- Only if you do something for me

-- I don't like where this is going...

- you never do.

- dinner 6 pm tonight, at Ombu downtown.

- be there and I might give you what you want after you pay for dinner.

-- You only like me for my money

- I have more money than you!

--So you say, but I always pay.

- just meet me at 6.

"So Chan knows who it is, but won't give me his information" you said looking at Joy who was now actually working at her desk. Like you should be.

"Typical Chan, let me guess. Making you buy him dinner in exchange for the information." You nodded. "I swear whoever his soulmate is better cook well, he will do anything in exchange for food" she shook her head.

Work was over soon enough, and so you changed into jeans and a blouse, did a small amount of makeup and headed downtown. Ombu was your typical spot to go with Chan. Delicious Korean barbecue, their meat selections far better than the other places around. Which is why Chan always insisted on going there.

"Welcome, Y/N! Chan is already waiting for you" Rose the usual hostess said guiding you towards your usual back corner booth, Chan loved this booth, he could people watch and it had the best hot plate.

"Thanks Rose!" You say as she motions towards the table. Your eyes grew as you looked at the table. Not only seeing Chan, but you couldn't stop staring at the orange eyed man next to him. "Hyunjin, right?" You said softly as you took your seat, he nodded a smile came across his face as he stared at you.

You finally started to understand why those couples would just stare into one another's eyes. His eyes were intriguing, bringing you a sense of peace. His eyes looked like the flames of the comforting campfires you enjoyed so much as a child. You almost wanted to just curl up and look in his eyes forever.

"Well, now I can see this is going to be awkward. So I'm just going to order food to get the dinner started" Chan said. You hadn't even realized the waiter had come to the table to take your order.

"Sorry" you and Hyunjin muttered at the same time. Followed by nervous giggles.

"I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," you said to Hyunjin. "Chan wanted dinner in exchange for your information. I didn't think he would bring you"

"Well, I asked him to keep me informed last night, after I couldn't find you. So once he told me you guys were getting dinner I wouldn't let him tell me no" his hand drifted towards yours on the table.

"So you're persistent," you noted.

"Very." He smirked moving closer.

"Look, guys I want dinner. Can't you guys make heart eyes at each other afterwards. I just want to eat. And if this continues, you guys are going to make me sick." Chan groaned.

"I'll try to behave," you said as you reached towards Hyunjins hand, taking it in yours.

"You don't know how to behave." Chan teased. You just rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You usually would say something back, but you were slightly distracted by the soft circles being drawn by Hyunjins thumb on the back of your hand.

Two weeks later you sat in Hyunjins apartment. Cuddling as you watched an action comedy. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped around you. You started to get to know your match well. You found out he worked at the large musical academy. He taught dance, and music history. He was doing quite well for himself, he had a nice place, a car, and was decently responsible with his money.

Hyunjin was your soulmate, your match. Aside from that first night at ombu with Chan; the two of you did your best not to be disgustingly cute in front of those who didn't have their match yet. Such as his roommate Han, who usually ended up joining the two of you for movie nights.

Truthfully life was good, you felt less bitter about it all. Of course it wasn't perfect, and you still had a lot to learn about the other, but this was what you needed. You needed someone who was whole, who had a kind heart and soul. And that was what you got, it was just a perk that he was ridiculously attractive.

Hyunjin was grateful to have finally found you too. He didn't mind being younger. He loved your caring heart, protected by its sarcastic shell. He couldn't believe he met someone who already had so much drive and compassion. He loved your playful banter with his friends, he was grateful you accepted his friends and did your best to make them comfortable. Plus he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you. In his mind you were perfect in every way, despite the flaws you insisted you had.

He felt lucky being the first of his friends to find his match.

-- Orange meaning: warmth, enthusiasm, success, encouragement, change, determination, stimulation, happiness, fun, sexuality, freedom, expression, and fascination. --

#happy Hyunjin day #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids fan fiction #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz hyunjin #skz soulmate au #soulmate au #stray kids soulmate au #hyunjin soulmate au #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent.

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth.

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship.

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style.

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling.

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare.

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling.

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed.

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined.

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly.

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

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

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw.

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ‘dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking.

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper, covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town.

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up.

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-” He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.”

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone.

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

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch.

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

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

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep.

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise.

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold.

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.”

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her.

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno.

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air.

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

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

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best.

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing.

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards.

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates.

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company.

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.”

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame.

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider.

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs.

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee.

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck”

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right.

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body.

“More, please, god that all feels so good.”

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes.

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans.

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back.

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass.

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back.

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

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

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door.

#indruck #monster march #indrid cold/duck newton #reader request #ghost au

17 notes · View notes

aizawaorkuroo · 4 years

Text

on the house (chapter 4) - black coffee

Ship: Yagi Toshinori x reader

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: After weeks of dancing around it, Toshinori asks you out.

Warnings: Language, smut, overstimulation, oral sex (both M and F receiving) Size kink (kinda), some nasty hard cold brew, Reader has a vagina

AN: Once again, this blog is 18+!! also, this is the longest chapter i’ve written and uhh over half of it is smut so im nervous grewfwsd

OTH Masterlist

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Clear, blue skies hang above Musutafu, a promise of the approaching summer. The birds chirp pleasantly, and the sun weaves its way through leaves that hang onto branches. Normally, you would’ve been happy to update the chalkboard sign that sits outside Sweet Bean. But today the warmth and the people wondering blissfully about appear to be mocking you.

You hadn’t seen Toshinori since he had walked you home from the police station. Since you had invited him to go upstairs to your apartment with you. A painful heat overtakes your blood, and you wince. Had you been too forward? And while he may have chosen to go home, you still thought he was at least interested. Or that he would at least stop by the cafe.

Aiko wisely doesn’t mention the broken piece of chalk your holding when you walk behind the counter. She does send Suga a knowing look, one that you pretend to not see. You spend the next hour fumbling through orders and dropping stirring spoons and espresso cups. It’s only after you burn yourself on the espresso maker that Aiko pulls you into the back, and glares at you with her hands on her hips.

“Y/N. What’s up with you?” You flush under her gaze, looking anywhere but her eyes. It’s embarrassing - no, mortifying - that you got rejected by someone you both knew. And he still plagues your mind. If you didn’t tell Aiko, at least a shred of dignity would remain.

“And don’t you dare tell me nothing’s wrong,” she chimes. “I know something’s up.” Her gaze softens, and she reaches out to gently grab your arm. “You can tell me anything, y’know?”

Your resolve crumbles immediately. The words tumble out of your mouth; the entire time your stomach feels like it’s doing flips. You’re expecting a laugh or a sympathetic pat, but when you glance up, Aiko’s giving you an incredulous look. Her mouth opens, before closing. You squirm as she makes up her mind about what to say. You’re not really sure when Aiko’s opinion became so important, but it feels like her next words will decide your future.

“You are an idiot.”

You freeze. That was not what you had been expecting. Not even in the slightest. But what did she mean? Should you have not invited him up? Was it wrong to get a crush on a customer? One who knew a lot of regulars? Aiko lifts a finger, stopping your brain from falling off the deep end.

“He clearly likes you,” her voice rings out. “It was obvious when I met him, and based on what you said, there’s no way he doesn’t. You’re just overthinking.” You blink at her dumbly, trying to process. Of course it makes sense that you had spent too much time thinking about it. But how could you not?

“And if you’re worried about him not coming in recently. Well, people get busy. And he’s not a regular. Yet.” She offers you a wink, and you smile softly. Your friend’s words did little to ease the tumultuous waves in your stomach, but they were enough for now. Enough for you to focus.

When you return behind the bar, Suga gives you an uncomfortable nod and a thumbs up. You change your mind. This is still mortifying. Being friends with your coworkers is horrible. But by the time the bell rings, and you see a familiar face you feel lighter.

“Sato! Welcome back! How are you?” you call out. He smiles largely and waves excitedly at you.

“I’m pretty good! How’ve ya been?” You chuckle at his enthusiasm but wave for him to come browse the cakes Suga’s displayed. The two of you awe over the selection when the sound of someone clearing their throat brings you back to reality. Behind Sato are a group of girls that look like they’re from his class. You grin, feeling the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

“Sato, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” He flushes lightly at your question before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Right, these are some of my friends from school. Yaoyorozu, Asui, Uraraka, and Hagakure.” He gestures to each one, and an easy warmth settles over you as they offer polite waves. “I let them try some of the last cake I got from here, and they wanted to come.” You can’t stop the giggle that builds in your chest, before nodding your head.

“Of course, of course. Suga’s baked goods are legendary,” you say loudly enough for Suga to hear from the back. “We’ve also got plenty of drinks on and off the menu. Aiko, will you take their orders?” Aiko skips to the register before chattering away about specials, iced vs. hot, and different sizes. You wink at the girls before turning your attention back to Sato. “What are we thinking today?”

He sheepishly shifts on his feet, avoiding your eyes.

“I’m actually gonna have to wait until next time to get the full cake.” You purse your lips before holding your hand out. He flounders for a second before handing you his rewards card. Ah. He’s an item behind. You stamp his card twice, nod, and hand it back.

“Get whatever you want for you and your friends.” He looks at you blankly, before a large grin spreads across his face.

“Aw yeah! Thanks Ms. Y/N! You’re the best!” you shake your head, nose crinkling at his praise.

“I’m really not. Go grab a table, and I’ll bring your order to you.” He grins up at you before gesturing for his friends to follow him. Aiko turns to you, a small smirk gracing her face.

“That was sweet Y/N, but look alive. There are a few surprisingly complicated orders,” she muses. You nod before jumping into action. With your stress gone, the work is easy and familiar. When you drop off their drinks, they thank you excitedly, and you float back behind the counter.

After that, you’re in the zone. All your bumbling ends, and you’re so focused, that you don’t notice when another familiar face enters the Sweet Bean. You don’t notice as Aiko takes his order. It’s only when you turn around and he hunches down to smile at you that you notice.

You blink stupidly at Toshinori, a warmth rushing through you before you take a step back. The weight that had just been absolved doubles down on you. You stutter out a greeting before crossing your arms in mortification.

“Hi,” you murmur, trying to silence the chaotic butterflies within you. A sharp grin pulls at his features.

“I’ve been meaning to come by, but uh, I got a bit busy,” he says rather sheepishly. You can feel Aiko’s aggressive ‘I told you so’ stare on your back. You keep in a groan, knowing that she’ll hold this over you forever.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “I uh, missed seeing you.” You squeeze your arms, the admission making you feel dizzy. Toshinori’s blushes deeply, and warmth pools within you.

“Oh, well.” He rubs the back of his head looking awkwardly at the counter before sheepishly making eye contact. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me.” His gaze is soft, sending shivers up and down your spine. He looks down again. “If you want? Whenever you’re free?” You take a breath trying to center your thoughts.

“Well, I have work tomorrow night,” you respond. You furrow your brows, trying to think of a time you’re free, but Aiko buts in before you can.

“Oh, don’t worry. Suga and I will cover for you. You’re good tomorrow night.” Her smile is almost cruel, but you flush at her help. Suga’s head pokes out of the kitchen, and he nods in confirmation.

“Thanks guys. Aiko, aren’t you supposed to be getting to your night classes soon.” Her eyes widen, and she sets down Toshinori’s coffee before speeding off. You turn back to Toshinori, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Then, tomorrow night? Do you remember where I live? It’s unit 506.” He nods, a smirk tugging on his face.

“I can pick you up, at 7? Is that all right?”

You nod stupidly, unable to contain yourself any longer, a grin blossoming on your face. He backs up, heading towards the door while nodding at you, his face mirroring yours.

You press your lips together in a line to contain a giggle before you hold up his coffee, and a look of realization crosses his face. He steps forward to grab the cup, and you try not to flush too much as his fingers brush against yours.

“What’d you get?” you ask. You don’t mean to sound teasing, but sometimes, these things are out of your control. He flushes and avoids your gaze.

“A black coffee.” You nod and make a noise of approval.

“Sometimes, you wanna get straight to the point. I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns bright red at your words, and you grin.

“Right. Tomorrow, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbles.

He waves at you and backs up again, giving you one last nod before turning around. He passes by the group of students who are all watching with large eyes. They smile as he waves at them. He gives you one last lazy smile before the door closes behind him. Suga slings an arm around your shoulder letting out a small sigh.

“So are Aiko and I gonna get paid overtime?” You groan and lightly punch his stomach.

_______________________________

You flutter around your apartment, cleaning up mindlessly as you distract yourself. You still had thirty minutes to kill until Toshinori was supposed to get here. The butterflies that had started their flight in your stomach floated up and into your veins. You had been ready for an hour already. The night before, you had been so nervous that you picked out an outfit already. Which left you with too much free time now.

You had wanted to stay at Sweet Bean for a little while longer, but Aiko had refused, forcing you to leave. After making sure she knew Present Mic’s order, and that Suga was really okay with staying late, you went home. And now you’re counting down the minutes until it’s 7:00 PM.

You pace around your apartment, before landing in front of the mirror. You eye your reflection and clutch your phone tightly. In an instant, you nervously hit Aiko’s contact.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” Aiko cautiously asks.

“Aiko,” you hiss. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I can’t do this.” You scrutinize your skin, every flaw standing out.

“Y/N. I told you this already. He likes you!” she chirps. You sigh uncommittedly. “Remember, he asked you out. Not the other way around.” You hum at her words, her voice making you feel calmer. “Don’t worry! Enjoy your date. Suga and I have everything under control,” she says confidently. You hear a crash in the background and Aiko says her goodbyes and hangs up too fast for you to say anything. You stare blankly at your phone before shaking your head. Nothing you could do about that now.

When a soft knock finally resounds through the living room of your apartment, the butterflies you had just corralled take flight again. You jump to open the door, revealing a flustered Toshinori. He looks good, you think to yourself, letting your eyes trail up and down his form. He’s holding his suit jacket over his shoulder, a tie loosely hangs around his neck. His slacks match the dark color of his jacket.

His eyes run appreciatively up and down your figure, making the butterflies slip into your blood. He grins down at you, handing you a small bouquet of flowers that he’s holding with his other hand.

“You look beautiful. Got these for you.” You flush at the gesture and accept them, biting your lip.

“Thanks. You don’t look half bad yourself,” you say softly. “I’ll put these in water, and then we’ll be good to go.”

He patiently waits for you, and it’s not until you’re walking outside with him that you realize you don’t know where you’re going. Looking down at his hand, in a moment of bravery, you reach down and grab it. He smiles at you softly before lightly squeezing.

“Where are we going, Toshinori?” His grin sharpens, and he eyes you gently.

“Just a place I like going. Wanted to share it with you.” You flush but lean into his arm.

He ends up taking you to a small restaurant that’s tucked away in the corner of Musutafu. You’re seated in a booth across from him, and it all just feels fake. Toshinori is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful in ways that make your stomach flip.

When you ask him about the students you saw yesterday, he flushes and is clearly embarrassed, but it's obvious that he cares about them. He gets a soft faraway look in his eyes, one that melts your heart. He asks about Aiko and Suga, and your nose scrunches up at the thought of Aiko messing up Yamada’s weekly order.

You pick at your food, taking a few bites here and there. In all honesty, you’re too nervous to eat. All you can think about is how Toshinori’s hand is resting against yours on the table.

Everything is absolutely perfect. It feels too good to be true like at any second the air around you will collapse and you’ll wake up from this perfect dream.

When the bill comes, you make an attempt to pay, but the look he sends you has you backing down. There’s the promise of something more, something that sets your blood on fire, and makes your thoughts syrupy.

The walk back to your apartment is heavy. You know what you want. You’ve wanted it for a while. It’s just a matter of what he wants. So you end up back where you were, standing on the steps that lead up to your building. You lightly tug at his hair, and a smile forms on his face.

“Do you want to come up? For some coffee?” you murmur. He licks his lips, sending jolts to your core. He nods slowly, letting you pull him into your building. You fumble with your keys, trying to open the door, but all you can think about is how close Toshinori is. When you finally get the door open, you let him in and head straight for the fridge.

“I’ve got some uh, hard cold brew here. If you’re okay trying that. Make yourself at home,” you call over your shoulder. He nods before settling into the couch. You bring over the glasses, trying to ignore the way your hands are shaking. He accepts it graciously, taking a small sip. His face screws up, and you feel laughter bubble up in your chest.

“Yea, it kind of an acquired taste. Got it at a coffee convention. Sorry about that,” you apologize. He shakes his head, and sets his glass on the coffee table in front of him.

“It’s fine. A coffee convention?” he asks, his words dripping in humor. You flush and look away.

“Yes, a coffee convention. It’s a thing. But uh, maybe hard cold brew shouldn’t be a thing,” you reflect. He makes a noise in agreement, but his eyes soften.

“I didn’t mind it. I just think you mentioned something about getting straight to the point yesterday,” he murmurs. You still under his gaze, warmth sweeping through you. He slowly leans forward, head dipping down. His lips are centimeters from yours, but he stops, letting them ghost against yours. His breath fans against you, and you push forward, meeting his lips.

They’re warm and a bit chapped. But you don’t mind, not when his large hands are traveling up and down the planes of your body. They rest on your hips, softly kneading the flesh that’s there. You moan against him, and his tongue slips into your mouth.

In a moment of bravery, you swing a leg to straddle his lap. He grunts, and you pull away from his lips.

“Are you okay?” you ask, getting ready to get up. His hands hold your hips down, and he nods his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just an old accident.” You nod and caress the side of his face. He nuzzles into your hand and your thumb strokes his sharp cheekbone.

“Okay, just..let me know if I hurt you.” He grins before leaning to kiss you again. He wraps his arms around you and it’s like he’s everywhere, surrounding you on every side. Your hips stutter against him, and you try to stop the movement, not wanting to hurt him. He groans, and you come to the conclusion maybe you should get off him.

Right before you slide off of him, his large hands drag your core against him. Oh. Oh. Your face heats up as you realize the last noise he made wasn’t out of pain. You let him grind your hips down into him, and you move to pepper kisses all over his face.

He starts to harden under you, and you hide your face against him. A second wave of confidence has you upping the pace and grinding down into him. Another groan rumbles through his chest and into you.

Your movements slow, and he makes a pained noise. You pull away from him and rise on shaking legs. He looks at you, cocking his head to the side in confusion. You roll your eyes before grabbing his wrist and pulling at him.

“C’mon. There’s not a lotta space on the couch,” you complain. He laughs at that and follows you to your bedroom. The two of you are pulling at each other's clothes, creating a trail from the doorframe to your bed. You’re down to your underwear when you fall on the bed. Toshinori’s left in his boxers and his shirt, and he looks away from you, nervously grabbing onto the hem of the shirt. You can see bits of his scar peeking out from under his shirt, and your gaze softens.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” His intense eyes return to you, and they trail up and down your figure. You flush, embarrassed by his attention. While you meant it when you said he didn’t have to take off his shirt, a large part of you wishes he would. As if hearing his thoughts, he pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing his long torso.

You hold in the gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips. Long, angry lines radiate from a central point on his abdomen. They spiral out and mar a large portion of his skin. Your heart lurches, and he looks so tried/ You see the creases on his face deepen, the shadows increase, and the distance in his eyes. He carries a weight, that much you can see.

“If you don’t want to keep going that’s fine,” he mutters. You scoff at his words, reaching up to tug on the long strands that hang next to his face. He bends down at the motion, and you kiss him deeply, trying to pour all of your feelings into the action. When you pull away, his face is dusted with lovely red, and you can now see that it dips down onto the planes of his chest.

You pull him onto the bed, and he unceremoniously falls next to you. You kiss him again before pushing him on his back, letting his legs hand off the bed. You crawl onto the floor, placing yourself in between his legs. Propping himself up on his elbows, he scoots himself forward as you pull at his legs.

Once he’s at the edge of the bed, you reach up to pull off his boxers. His hips rise, letting you pull them down, and his cock spring free. You flush as it stands proudly in front of you. Toshinori’s beet red, but his mouth is open, letting out little pants. You smirk at him before spitting in your hand and tentatively wrapping it around his dick.

He makes the softest, smallest noise, and it goes right to your aching cunt. Your thumb swipes over the leaking head of his cock, and his hips buck ever so slightly. You grin, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to the underside of his length. He groans, and you start to pump him with your hands, letting your head nuzzle against his thigh.

When he looks down at you, he swears, the sight alone could make him cum: your face flushed against his thigh, looking at him so sweetly, while you jack him off. And then something in your eyes shifts and you lick his cock, from the bottom to the head. He lets out a choked moan, and you do it again before you try to take as much of him as you can in your mouth.

His hips barely thrust up again, but you get the message. Your head bobs delicately around his cock, while your hand pumps around the base. Part of you wonders if he’ll fit inside you, but you’ll think about that later. Right now, saliva and precum fall from your mouth to coat his dick. Normally you would’ve been grossed out, but seeing the blissful look on Toshinori’s face distracted you from the lewdness of the situation.

“You feel so good, sweet girl,” he keens. His praise goes straight to your throbbing core, and you squeeze your thighs together in a lame attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

His hips continue to buck underneath you, and you're positive he’s going to cum soon based on the way his abdomen is tense. To your surprise, his hands pull you away from his dick. You lean into his touch, thighs still squeezing together.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask while trying to catch your breath. He lets out a small laugh and shakes his head.

“No, it felt too good.” He pulls you back on the bed, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. He pulls away, letting his large thumb stroke over your lips. You open your lips ever so slightly, letting him push it in. When you suck around it, he groans and drops his forehead to rest against yours.

“It felt too good, and I don’t wanna cum yet,” he mumbles. Your tongue swirls against his thumb, and you hum. He shakes his head in disbelief before pulling his thumb out of your mouth and pushing you against the bed. He peppers your neck with kisses while warm hands trail up and down your body before landing on your breasts. He squeezes them before lightly pinching your nipples.

“I really like your hands,” you murmur, feeling stupid after saying it. But a warm laugh resounds through the room.

“Well, I really like touching you.” As if to emphasize his point, he pulls at your nipples harshly.

Squirming against his touch, you run your fingers through his hair. His mouth trails down your body, pressing wet kisses everywhere he can. He licks a stripe between the valley of your breasts, making you flush. He tentatively runs his tongue over a nipple, and you stifle a moan. As if sensing your hesitation, he nips at the hardening bud, while a calloused hand continues to pinch and pluck at your other nipple.

Your grip tightens in his hair, and you lightly tug and you arch against him. You murmur his name, and his eyes delight in your flushed state. He switches to suck and nip at your other nipple, letting his fingers pinch the other one. Once he’s satisfied with how flustered you look, he continues on his path. When he reaches the edge of your underwear, you bite your lip nervously.

He kisses your hip reassuringly before he slides the fabric down your legs. His large hands lightly push apart your thighs, and he lets out a groan at your wet, exposed pussy. Embarrassed, your hands leave his hair to hide your face.

“Please don’t be shy.” He kisses the inside of your thigh, his large thumb reassuringly rubbing the skin there. “I’m honored to be here. It’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.”

You peek out behind your hands, thoughts feeling slow and sticky at his words. His gaze is soft and full of affection as he watches you pry your hands away from your face. Something warm and heavy settles deep in the hollow of your chest. Oh. Fuck. You would deal with that later.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him. When you let your legs widen, he grins and kisses your thigh again. Tentatively, he runs a calloused finger up and down your slit.

“So wet,” he whispers, hit breath fanning against you. You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues his gentle exploration.

His finger doesn’t stop, but his face nuzzles into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Please open your eyes. I want you to watch.” Your face heats up at his words, but you comply, forcing your eyes to open. A sharp grin graces his face, and he slides his finger up to your clit. You bite your lip in an effort to contain your moan, and he shakes his head again.

“I wanna hear those pretty sounds you make,” he murmurs into your skin. His finger traces delicate patterns on your clit, and a choked moan claws its way out of your throat. He hums in satisfaction, and your hands weave into his hair again.

His fingers trail down away from your clit to tease your dripping hole, and you groan. He presses in his finger slowly, marveling at the way your mouth falls open. He slowly pumps his finger into you, letting his thumb occasionally brush over your clit.

You gently buck your hips into his hand, small sighs leaving your mouth. It’s not nearly enough, but it ignites the need for more.

“Faster,” you moan. He smirks but compiles, pumping his finger faster, letting it curl inside you. You thrust your hips in time, trying to increase the delicious friction.

“Toshinori, more. Please.” You tug lightly at his hair, and he presses another kiss into your thigh. A second, thick finger joins the first, and you groan. His thumb lands on your clit with certainty now, and his fingers pump into you, opening you up. You grind into his hand, a terrifying ledge now in view.

“Do you think you can handle another one?” His question makes your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he grins as you nod in overeagerness. “Use your words,” he says. But your mind is slow like honey, so you just mumble the word ‘please’ until he slips a third, large finger in.

You groan at how full you are with just his fingers. They’re heavy and red hot inside you. His eyes flicker between your blissed-out face and your sopping pussy. His fingers hit just the right spot inside you, and your eyes widen in shock. He hits it again, and again, and again, and then you are catapulted over the edge that was apparently much closer than you thought.

You writhe against his hand, thighs shaking and trying to squeeze together. You tug harshly at his hair, but he doesn't stop. No, he doesn't stop until the white-hot coil is ready to snap again. You try to buck away from him, your cunt feeling oversensitive, but he is relentless. His thumb digs harshly into your clit, and you see white spots in your vision.

Your entire body tenses as you cum again. Your eyes screw shut, as your hips writhe violently, a loud moan leaving your throat against your will. You repeat his name like a chant, unable to say anything else. This would’ve been embarrassing except you felt so good you didn’t care.

He crawls up next to you, propping himself up on an arm. There’s an adoring look on his face as you try to catch your breath. A sense of exhaustion falls over you, but you frown when you realize he hasn’t cum yet.

One of his hands reaches out to caress the side of your face, and you lean into it. When you realize this was the hand that was just inside you, you flush before turning your head to suck at his fingers. He groans, watching as you suck away.

“Are you good to keep going? If you’re tired we can stop,” he mumbles, eyes entranced by your mouth. You release his fingers with a pop before kissing his palm.

“I want to keep going.” He grins at your words before sitting up. Your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat already, but you mimic his action. His cock looks painfully erect, the head an angry red. He was big. You knew that when you had him in your mouth. Even after stretching you out with his fingers, you knew it would be tight. You reach out to stroke his cock tentatively, and he groans.

“It may be…” you start.

“It may be what?”

“It may be easier if I’m on top, at least for now. You’re really big.” Blush sweeps over his cheeks and dips down across his collar bones. You grin as his brow creases in thought.

“Maybe we shouldn’t-” his concerns are cut off by you rising to your knees and swinging a leg over, letting your pussy rest right against the tip of his dick. You lean forward to press a kiss to his red cheek, and you hold his face between your hands.

“Make no mistake, Toshinori. I want you inside me.” A deeper red blooms on his skin at your words, but his eyes are blown out, and he nods, letting his hands fall to your waist. Your hands leave his face to clutch at your shoulders, and you tentatively drop down.

The stretch of his cock makes your mouth open stupidly. Slowly, you rise up again and sink further down. Toshinori moans loudly, the vibrations traveling through you. He buries his face into your neck as you continue to spear yourself on his cock.

When he’s fully sheathed inside you, you still. He peppers kisses against your neck, your jaw, your face. You feel so blissfully full you almost don’t notice them. He’s everywhere, surrounding you on all sides, inside and out. He’s trembling, you can feel his muscles quaking underneath your fingers. Ever so slowly, you rise on your knees, keening at the way his cockhead drags against you. When you fall back down, his moan sets your blood on fire.

The pace you set isn’t terribly fast, but it feels good. Toshinori’s hands grip your waist tightly, and he looks at you in pure awe. You bounce on his dick, taking in every sound and expression he makes. He gently thrusts up to meet you, making you whine. Having him inside you was almost too much. The air is warm and thick, and so is your blood. Your movements start to feel clumsy, and you try to keep it up as long as you can, but your thighs are starting to burn, and your pace falters.

You tug at his hair and whine. His hands run up the sides of your body before reluctantly forcing you to still.

“Do you think you’re okay with me on top?” You nod at his question, too full and fucked to answer with words. Toshinori gently twists, letting your body hit the bed. Caging you in with his arms, he tentatively rocks into you.

You clench around him and whine. He litters your face with kisses again as he thrusts into you, increasing the pace once you settle. Your arms hang lazily around his neck, and you lift your hips to try and meet his thrusts. You’re so full, so content.

Toshinori shifts to let an arm slide in between you two. Two fingers gently tease your tired clit. He continues thrusting into you as the teasing becomes aggressive, his fingers rolling the sensitive nub.

“Toshinori, I’m close,” you whine. He nods, increasing his pace, trying to push you off the ledge again. When he pinches your poor clit, you tighten around him. Your body locks up, and you scream.

When you cum, you pull him down into you, trying to merge your souls. Everything’s golden and warm. He’s trembling against you as you writhe, and he barely pulls out in time to paint your stomach with his thick cum. Your pussy clenches around air, and it’s only then that you realize your quirk is making you literally glow.

You breathe deeply, trying to regain control, and your head falls against the pillow. Toshinori falls next to you, and he strokes your cheek adoringly. You’re overcome with a tsunami of different emotions. A warmth pricks at the back of your eyes, and to your horror, you can’t stop the tears that force their way out. A large thumb sweeps out to softly brush away the salty drops.

“Oh god, don’t tell me I’m so bad I made you cry.” You let out a laugh and shake your head.

“I just came so hard I almost blacked out. I just…” you wince uncomfortably, but nonetheless continue. “This is so stupid.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, but force yourself to keep talking. “I just don’t want you to break my heart,” you manage to choke out. You take a breath, wanting to say more, but the words stick in your throat.

He kisses along your jaw before pausing, indicating for you to continue. Once you do, he slowly leaves sleepy wet kisses along your neck.

“Well, I mean I barely know you, really, but I want you to have the world instead of having to carry its weight. I don’t know why you’re carrying that type of weight. I truly don’t.“ He freezes against you, pulling away from your neck.

“And I get that me being an absolute moron and talking about it after we just fucked isn’t gonna change that. Especially now that I’m crying like an idiot. I get it, but fuck, I want to be there for you. I mean it when I say I’d give you the world if I could. Fuck, I’d carry it so you could have a moment of peace.”

When you glance at him, he’s looking at you so softly, so tenderly, that your heart swells. He kisses you sweetly, trying to convey a thousand emotions with a single gesture. When he pulls away, you run your fingers through his thick hair.

He shifts to kiss your collarbones, before moving lower. He peppers your body with small, affectionate kisses, stopping when he reaches your stomach. His fingers swipe at his sticky cum before he looks up at you.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs. You flush before tangling your hands with one of his. He continues his exploration of your body, avoiding his cum, but leaving sweet kisses against your skin. When his face ends up between your legs, your stomach flips. You squeeze your thighs together, embarrassed at having him so close to your abused pussy.

“Open up sweet girl. Don’t be shy. I was just down here.” His voice rumbles against you, and your face heats up, but your body reacts to his words.

“Hmmm. Positively soaked.” He squeezes your hand in affection while you take shaky breaths. He trails a finger down your oversensitive slit, and you squirm, trying to either escape or get closer. You can’t tell the difference at this point.

When his finger brushes against your achy clit, your entire body tenses. His finger gently teases your clit, and you rock your hips against him, your overworked cunt already tense. He lowers his mouth against you, letting his tongue replace his finger, and you writhe. He gently unlaces your fingers, guiding your hand to tangle in his hair. Your fingers tense on his scalp, as he moves to grip your waist, holding you down.

His tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves, making you buck against his face. The warmth of his mouth almost burns you. It’s too much, but it feels so good.

“Toshi,” you moan. A laugh rumbles through his chest, the vibrations going straight to your clit. He slides a large finger into your exhausted cunt and you writhe. A calloused pad lightly curls up into a soft spongy spot deep in you, and your thighs quake, a white-hot wave of pleasure flows through you. He works you through your orgasm, tongue never letting up on your clit. When your orgasm passes he doesn’t stop.

In fact, his ministrations intensify as he slips in a second finger to join the first. You tug his hair away from you, trying to pry his torturous mouth away from you.

“Toshi, I can’t. It’s too much,” you whine. He chuckles again before pressing a kiss to your trembling thigh.

“One more. Let me give you one more,” he murmurs into your skin. Your grip on his hair loosens and he leans back in to kiss your clit. His lips form a seal around your clit, and he lightly sucks. His clever fingers pump into you, unrelenting. Your hips buck, and you whine loudly. You’re so close again. When his teeth lightly nip at your poor, abused clit, it’s over. The white-hot feeling in the pit of your stomach explodes. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and you writhe uncontrollably against Toshinori’s face. He laps dutifully at your pussy, despite your pawing at his face.

When he finally lets your hips go, you're shaking. You weakly tug at him, urging him to crawl back up to you. He relents, and you kiss him deeply, flushing at tasting yourself on his lips. When he pushes himself out of your bed, you lean up, a questioning look in your eyes.

“Bathroom?” he asks.

“Through that door.” You gesture with your head before flopping back down against the bed. When he returns, he’s got a damp cloth and a glass of water. He hands you the cup, which you graciously chug. Your heart flutters lightly as he kneels to wipe your exhausted pussy and clean his cum off you. You breathe deeply, trying to catch your breath. The bed dips next to you as he curls around you.

Your head nestles into his chest, and you play with his hair gently. You twirl one of the long strands that frame his face around your finger, the other palm pressed gently against his chest.

“Hey,” you whisper. He smiles at you kindly.

“Hi,” he whispers back. You bite your lip, overcome with affection.

“Toshinori?” you gently ask. He hums in response, eyes shut as he enjoys your soft touches. You think of the warm, heavy feeling that’s deep in your chest. “I really like you.” One of his eyes opens and blinks at you.

“I really like you too,” he murmurs before pulling you close to him. In his warm embrace, you let your eyes shut, and sleep overtakes your exhausted body.

#yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi x you #yagi toshinori x you #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x you #yagi toshinori smut #my writing #on the house #💫.yagi #🌌.overstimulation #🌌.size kink

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heartslogos · 3 years

Text

mafia rewrite - The Nightwing

Richard Grayson walks out of the thick, steel, mirrored elevator doors straight past the shining, gleaming, modern, glass and chrome waiting area and straight into the heart of the cool, elegant Iceberg Lounge.

The Iceberg Lounge has been host to ambassadors, vandals, thieves, presidents, models, princes, billionaires, genius savants, call girls, bus boys, and every single person in between. The Iceberg Lounge has seen catastrophe, it’s seen ruin, it’s seen blood and murder, it’s seen parties that, from street level made the glass walled lounge look like a shining beacon of pure white. The Iceberg Lounge has had many names, many renovations, many changes of management, and withstood them all with a timeless grace.

The Iceberg Lounge, currently, plays host to a — compared to its normal volume — small and subdued crowd. Murmurs of death, blood, change, and escape carry over martini glasses, underneath swirling kinetic aluminum and steel light fixtures, slithering and insidious into the ears of every single moving body present. All of them, in their gossip, complicit.

Richard Grayson cuts the crowd and cuts a terrific — in the oldest sense of the word — figure. His suit is the black of Gotham, the black of its royal Wayne blood. The black of omens and death and the distant winter sky come to bear down on the trailing ends of summer as it runs in the opposite direction.

He’s always been known as the least violent Wayne. But least violent does not mean non-violent. Not when the comparisons are the rest of the Waynes.

A nurse shark is still a shark, even if you compare it to a megaladon. A butterfly knife is still a blade even, when compared to a zweihandler. Carbon monoxide is still a poison, even when compared to cyanide.

A bullet is a bullet no matter what kind of name you give it.

This one’s name is the Nightwing.

Even as a boy, he flittered and floated and glided through crowds like this. A strange figure in the gowns and tuxedos of Gotham’s socialites, and university night club crawlers, and the booming and bustling pub crawlers down narrow sidewalks with sports bars and dives.

A man made to fly through the night.

Richard Grayson glides into the Iceberg Lounge. Orca, seal, predator. And through schools of silver and gold glimmering fish that part as though they had suddenly turned hydrophobic he is untouched. Unmoved.

He keeps walking.

He walks up the spiral staircase to the VIP lounges. He walks towards the edge of the platform that overlooks the rest of the lounge. He walks up to a table set for one and he sits across the other occupant.

As he sits a chair materializes for him before he could fall. As though the universe and gravity had joined hands and conspired. As if the world could not conceive of a place where Richard Grayson does not get a seat at the table. As if this dimension could not fathom the golden son of Gotham being disappointed.

Or, more realistically, as though a panicked attendant realized that blood could be spilled tonight if even one thing fell out of place and quickly kicked a chair into motion, into another attendant’s body and that other attendant, carrying the same fear as the first, hustled to have the chair in position and ready to slide it in as Richard Grayson’s body entered its sure and unbothered controlled fall.

Richard Grayson unbuttons his suit jacket as he sits in this seat provided by fear, long legs crossing as he looks around the lounge. And then he does a slow, quiet, dangerous scan of the person in front of him.

He gestures around them with a lazy twist of his wrist.

“Ten million.” His beatific smile spreads like a plume of blood in water. He waits. The best predators know how to do this.

Eric Shin closes his eyes and breathes what could possibly be one of his last breaths and opens them again. Richard Grayson is waiting for his response.

“What?” He croaks out instead.

“That’s how much it cost to buy you,” Richard Grayson says. “Ten million. For someone from your circuit of the market? Entry to the VIP are of the Iceberg is at least five million per quarter. Minimum. Trust me. I know how much it costs to get into these kind of places. And you haven’t earned VIP seating. The Lucky Hand is lucky to barely be alive right now. Remind me, by who’s grace?”

“Yours,” Eric whispers against his will. The word slides out like bubbles from a drowning man.

“Exactly right. And when was that?”

Eric closes his eyes, and prays for a swifter death than this one of small cuts. “Seven years ago.” He swallows, throat dry, eyes stinging. “When the Dubelz ran across the Whispers on their hunt for the man who killed their leader and the violence spilled over onto into a war along the entire Port Adams and started getting the Lucky Hand’s shipments sunk in harbor as collateral.”

“Right, right. Excellent memory, Eric. Excellent memory. So. Where was I? Ah. Five million per quarter, which the Hand hasn’t been pulling in for you of all people to be getting into the VIP Iceberg Lounge. So it’s not coming from that business. The car is new. Imported, based on the interior and the relatively new plates. That’s about seven hundred just to bring over. And I know that thing isn’t going to be meeting US standards of emissions so that’s — let’s lowball it, say two grand? Three grand? To get enough people to rubber stamp those forms. Now, I’m not too hot on the numbers. So let’s make this easy. I’m going to place your car, fees and bribes and all, somewhere in the range of three hundred grand.”

Grayson taps his middle and index finger on the white cloth covered table as he watches Eric with bright, terrible eyes.

“And if I’m right that’s about — well. Still a lot more than you’d be worth normally. But you’re being paid for silence. And you’re being paid for dying.” Richard Grayson’s mouth twitches up at the corners. “You sold your life for ten, Eric. So far you’ve got VIP entrance to the lounge — which, mind you, isn’t going to last and isn’t refundable. The Penguin’s got a nose for business and he knows that you having entry to his lounge is just going to be earning him a whole lot of grief —, you’ve got a nice imported car that ignores US regulations, and let’s see. Let’s have a look at you. That’s tailored. You’re not buying that off the rack and that takes out everything under five hundred. At a glance I’d say that’s eight thousand. And the watch? A Submariner? Can’t get that in store unless you’ve got a name like mine. You’re looking black market and if you’re smart you’re paying extra for paperwork and someone to scrub it. Base price alone for the green dial is twenty grand. You’ve been burning through that blood money.”

“What do you want?” Eric asks.

Grayson leans forward, leopard seal and killer whale, and descending fury.

“You’re a smart man. The Waynes interfered to spare the Hand because you made a very good case for why we should. And for the past seven years we’ve been good neighbors. We’ve never had a problem with you. Until today. One hell of a problem to choose to be, Eric. I want you to tell me who paid you ten million dollars to give up your life and keep your silence. Because we traced the guns used at the shootout. And those guns and those cars came through Port Adams. And we traced records of those cars and plates and found them cruising up the Old Highway. And if they’re going up Old Highway and if they’re being supplied through Port Adams there’s no way in hell that the Lucky Hand didn’t see that coming.”

Grayson’s blue eyes burn with awful fire.

The Nightwing circles. The Nightwing descends.

“And you didn’t say anything. Someone paid you off. And how damn cheap of a pay off it was. Ten million? If I were in your position and being asked to keep my silence about any kind of whisper of a hallucination about Tim Drake being hunted like a dog through the streets of Gotham in broad daylight I would be asking for the keys to the diamond vaults. I’d be asking for the moon and the stars. Ten million.” The man leans back in his seat, face incredulous as he takes Eric in. “That’s all you were worth. I mean. Sure. I wouldn’t have paid you ten million to tell me this information before hand if I knew about it. But you’d still be alive, you know?”

Grayson flags a waiter over.

“You must have realized,” Grayson says as he peruses the liquor menu, “That regardless of whether Tim lived or died, someone would have found you.”

Eric doesn’t cry. He signed his death certificate weeks ago when he watched those first ships start to unload their guns into the storage facilities next to his own; when he took the money; when he failed to call any of the Waynes to say something, anything, over the past days when the plot came to its finalization.

“He’s alive, by the way. In case you were wondering.” Grayson raises his voice a little so it projects over the dead silence of the lounge. “My brother’s faced worse before. He’s alive. And you know that egghead remembers every single face that was present. License plates, too. Kid’s messed up, his priorities are all wrong. If it were me I’d be focused on wondering something more simple, you know? Like who I last talked to and if I said anything cool. Well. That’s why he’s head of W.E. and not me. I don’t have a head for business.”

He taps something on the liquor menu, handing it back to the waiter.

“Out of consideration for the past years of you being a good neighbor, I’ll let you have one last drink,” Grayson says. “My treat, seeing as how the Penguin is revoking all your access. Don’t worry. You’re not dead yet. I’ll be needing you later. You haven’t given me any names yet. And I promised Cobblepot I wouldn’t make a mess of his lounge. He just got this floor redone, you know? I missed the grand re-opening.”

Grayson looks around, smiling and nodding his divine approval.

“Personally, I think it’s a little too minimalist modern, but compared to before I like it. It’s quiet. Easy on the eye. Excellent balance and color coordination, though. Spot on. I’d ask Cobblepot who his designer was except I don’t have anything I want to tear down and rebuild. I’m more in the mood for the tearing down, frankly. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a list of people to get to before someone else does.”

Grayson pauses. “And by someone else I mean another Wayne. The rest of the people in this family have no respect. Between Jason and Cassandra there isn’t enough to around, you know? They ruin everything they get their hands on. Usually so no one else can use it. Mostly so that I don’t get to use it, really. So I’m in something of a race against the clock to get everything I want done tonight. Lucky you, you were near the top of the list. Alright. I’ll leave you to that final drink. And when you’re done with that drink you’re going to get into the car I’ll have the Penguin pull around for you. Before I leave is there anything you want to say?”

Eric swallows roughly, slowly moving his eyes to met Grayson’s. A dead man has nothing to fear of asking a last second boon from his executioner.

“In punishing me will you spare the Hand?”

Grayson looks momentarily surprised.

Eric gestures around them. “They bought me. Not the Hand. My silence. My trespass. My wrong. Not a single cent of the money has gone to the Lucky Hand. You can check the accounts. It’s all with me, still. Tell me now. Give me this one certainty. Will you spare the Hand, or have I doomed us all?”

Grayson considers him. And then he leans forward, all blue eyes and terrific face.

“Tell me,” He says softly, “Tell me why you accepted the pay off.”

“Because no matter who won to rule Gotham — the Waynes or the plotting syndicates — it wouldn’t matter for us,” Eric confesses. “The syndicates have a backer. And under this backer the Hand would never have made it. Stay silent and earn the Wayne’s wrath is to perish. To speak to you of this plot and be turned on by the plotters who surround the Hand’s territory on all sides is immediate suicide. If the plotters won this battle but lost the war we would perish. If I was silent and you lost the plotters would still remove the Hand from the playing field for whatever excuse they could find. In every situation the Lucky Hand would have to fold.”

Grayson closes his eyes, bringing up a hand to press at his temples. It obscures his face for one moment of relief on Eric’s part.

“I will not act on the Lucky Hand for this,” he finally says, drawing up, buttoning his suit jacket once more. “That’s my personal statement on the matter. But as you can guess, the Wayne family’s many arms are rarely in agreement. Pull a repeat of seven years ago. Convince us. For what it’s worth — I think you have a shot at it.”

#heartsfic #c: a star going red giant

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indeciseicelady · 4 years

Text

Into the deeps (Siren!Shinsou x Reader) Ch. Two)

Warnings: Cursing; Nsfw later; I don’t know, maybe some deaths; Im still planning; Help.

~~~~~~~~~~

As you run out of land things to do, you went after the water things, since you weren't feeling stalked anymore.

Diving spots, boat trips, other tiny islands to visit, canoeing, places to see whales and dolphins, swim with sharks, even if this last one sound a little scary, as a scientist you were very excited for all of this, see new things always make your eyes sparkles.

So your first choice was going on a boat trip to see the dolphins, so you woke up early and went to the address on the advertisement, filled the forms, get on the boat, and waited to leave, you give a quick look around the people.

There were mostly couples of elderly people, a group of four guys and a very loud girl who just wouldn't stop screaming, three of the guys looked kinda of annoyed by her, so you imagine that those four guys are friends, but one of them decide to bring the girlfriend to what was supposed to be a friends trip and now none of them are enjoying it, you let a quiet laugh out;

Also have this really cute family with three small kids, one of them was a boy about eight or nine years, and he just wouldn't let go of the hands of his two little sisters, that looked like they were three or four years, there was just too cute, making you smile while remember about the family trips you used to have with your mom and older brother.

But sadly, with the good memories come the bad ones and you remember the sad end, your brother is a drug addict that avoided seeing you since the death of your mother from chagas disease a couple of years ago “its sad how some things turn out” you mumble to yourself, as you always do, and as always, no one hear you.

One of the guys that work on the boat call everyone attention as he gave a fast instruction on safety procedures and teach how to put on the life jacket, and then we left the docks to the open sea and the place where they said the dolphins would be; you put on your headphones, since the moment the boat started moving one of the kids started crying and it was a little annoying.

After a while you start to feel that something is staring you again, and that is a little scary, since you are in a boat moving to the middle of nowhere, a little panic settles in your chest and you don't know if you should get close of the edge and look for something in the water or just stays as far from it as possible.

You suddenly feel something touching your shoulder and give a small scream on a jump away attempt, maybe you would fall from the boat if you were closer to the edge, looking back to the side and notice that was one of the boat guys, he was trying to get your attention, and then you notice that you still didn't take your headphones off.

-Yes?- you ask on a shy tone, taking the headphones off, still calming down from the shock.

-Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you- said the guy giving you a nervous laugh — Its just that you need to sign this form if you want to get on the water- he said reaching you a pen and clipboard with a paper on it, you look at him, a little lost on what he was referring to, and he probably notices since he keeps explaining –To swim with the dolphins, its, hnn, like an insurance-

-Oh- you said, looking away from him and back again –I don't think I'm going into the water, I'm not a good swimmer- you explained with a shy smile and hugging yourself, trying to hide how nervous you were, and he smiles back at you and touching the life jacket as saying that was safe.

-If you change your mind, call me, ok? My name is Yuki- He keeps smiling at you as he said and you just nod in agreement, and he walks away.

You keep yourself away from the edge as the boat move, but after a while it arrives at the point where the dolphins are supposed to appear; you get close to the edge and hold it like you were holding for life, your heart beating faster than it probably should, your eyes run through the water, looking for something, anything that doesn't fit on those moving deeps, but you don't find anything, and you couldn't stop the feeling that it was even worse than seeing something, “what am I scared of?” you think to yourself.

Hearing the captain calling, you get closer while he, again, explain something, but you don't mind hearing it, there was a tension over your body, you could hear the words but you aren't listening at all, you see fish being thrown in the water, and the people were excited waiting for the dolphins to appear, but you are bothered by the smell, the felling that something could happen at any second, so you walk away from the group to the other side of the ship.

Holding the border again, trying to control your breath with the same exercises you use when anxious, but oh, you just couldn't make yourself calm at that point, closing your eyes, you try to count to ten, you heard the shrill noise the dolphins do from behind you, on the other side of the boat, you try to ignore it, you just needed to calm down a bit, so you tried to focus on good things, calming, peaceful things, like kittens, flowers, butterflies and chocolate, and you could finally feel your heart slowly going back to his normal beat.

After a couple of minutes you were finally calm, opening your eyes and seeing the ocean, and on it, two shine lights, you blink hard, there were two purple shining eyes, looking right at you from the deeps, your blood runs cold, you want to scream, run, call anyone, but you couldn't move, your grip ate the border is so hard your hand hurt, you couldn't move at all, you are completely paralyzed and those eyes are getting closer and closer but you couldn't see anything besides them, making you wonder how deep it was, all the cells in your body screaming for you to run, move, do anything but you couldn't, there was a cry being hold on your throat, you could feel every beat of your heart in your chest and was faster than it had ever being and then again, on a blink of eyes, they disappeared.

You feel a hand on a shoulder and scream, a terrified scream and you move your body against it and almost fell from the boat, if that hand didn't hardly grab at your life jacket and pull you back, it was yuki’s hand, and as he holds you, now by the arm, you felt like your body weighed tons and your legs went weak, and if he wasn't holding, you certainly would fall, so he tried to put you down slowly.

-The-there is som-something on the-the water a-and wa-was staring it was s-s-staring at me- your brain panics, you cried out those words like they were stuck and didn't want to be said, the boy was looking at you confuse, but he went to the edge anyway, the people who were on the other side came around to see what was happening, but you didn't care what they were whispering between them.

-There is nothing on the water- Yuki said as he come back to your side, you saw it and you could feel it too, like it was still there, following you, Yuki put one hand on your shoulder and the other on your forehead –You are freezing- he takes off his work jacket and land it on you -Here- he said and pick you up, taking you to the cabin, you hear the captain telling one of the boat guys to get the people out of the water, and then he follows right after, Yuki sit you on the small sofa and give you a bottle of water, you only noticed how much you were shaking when you take it in your hands and almost drop it.

-Its there, I don't know what it is but it follows me and has purple eyes- you said silently, still shaking, looking at the bottle, you could see it vividly, like those eyes were stamped with fire on your mind and ice on your body.

-Its a ghost- the old man said — You know, there was an old tale about the waters that surround our lovely island, my father told me when I was a kid, and his father told him, who heard from his father before that- the captain continues and laugh, he takes the bottle from your hand, open it and gives back to you and laugh again –Those waters have the ghost of those who died on it, the first men to step on this white clean sand used to said that this is a sea of ghosts, some of them had seen shining eyes on magic colors, they heard voices calling them until the water, and those who follows it, if come back, were never the same, they believed that it was because a drowned soul enters on the body of the living and baffles their minds- as the captain finish his story, Yuki had already left that place, and you weren't sure if that man should be the one leading that ship.

-But…- you started, not sure about what you were saying anymore, but it was scratching your brain since the moment he said –If they were the first men in here... The ghosts who died in here... that-that doesn't make sense, if didn't have people here, before those men, how would it be ghosts from people that died here?- You were confused, and the captain was laughing, you didn't understand, what was so funny? Was that man crazy? Was he making fun of you?-no one lived here before they arrive, how its possible that people died here if there were nobody here?-

-Its just an old tale, kid, don't cling to details, don’t you think that if that was true someone would have notice?- The man laughs again and takes the empty bottle of your hands, you didn't even remember drinking it

-But I saw it, sir, I can literally feel on my body that is something on the water, something that stares at me, that follows and watch me as I walk on the beach I-I- Where are you going?!- You see the man getting up and leading to the door, not listen to what you have to say.

Now alone in the cabin, protected from those eyes, your mind was at a hundred percent, but not really, it was more for eighty percent, since you were still scared, but at least you were in control of your body and mind, putting aside the shaking, you feel the boat moving again, good thing that you were going home, and when you get home, oh, those eyes are going to regret messing with a scientist.

And said and done, the second the boat stops and you put your feet on the worn wood you make your way home walking by the beach, trying to ignore the feelings of being followed and avoiding look to the water.

You got home and went straight to your notebook the first thing you do is google “shining eyes on water” and nothing, and then “ghosts on the ocean” and you were suddenly looking at pages of ocean Animals dying, and even that you do care about it, that wasn't what you were look for, after trying a few more research, you give it up, you just didn't find anything about “ghost eyes” as you named it, so you decide to take a shower and sleep, you would have to start this research from the zero, but that was okay, it is not the first time you do it.

#Shinsou Hitoshi #Shinso Hitoshi #BNHA #MHA #Shinsou x Reader #Shinso x Reader #Siren!Shinsou #Siren!Shinso

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mariposalass · 4 years

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Weasley Sweaters (Sweater)

For Day 15 of @silentlyfangirlingselfshipper’s A Very Shippy Christmas event and with the theme of sweaters, I decided to veer away from the ugly Christmas sweater thing and dive deep into Harry Potter lore with Ron’s Mom Molly knitting sweaters for everyone. I’m also tagging @self-shipping-angel and @skipper-self-shipper since I think they would be interested in reading this and that we are Golden Trio self shippers too.

We all know that Tita Molly, as I would normally call, loves to make sweaters for the Weasley family and friends as Christmas gifts in the series. So I’m also expanding to include APEX members, the Survey Corps team, and my fam bunch as well, except I’m pretty sure that the Harry that’s with Skipper and my big brother Harry are from different timelines, so I don’t know what to do with this information other than differentiating them apart.

Despite the fact that Harry getting some of the better looking ones in the past and in canon, he actually burned most of them in the fireplace during his rough break up with Ginny as he had a rough time recovering from the whole affair and had stopped getting sweaters from Tita Molly for a while as to tell her that he wasn’t in love with her only girl anymore. And it upset her for a short time (like how Percy sent back his sweater in the Order of the Phoenix) before learning about the whole truth from Ron who had to snap her out of her depression that she might lose an honorary son over the break-up and Ginny’s then toxic behavior towards him during their rocky second attempt of dating each other.

Since Harry had to inform her that she has to make something more special for me with my love for flowers and butterflies, Tita Molly went the extra mileage to do more than putting people’s first name initials on sweaters by taking up tutorials on knitting other things onto sweaters for months and not just give him the privilege. My first sweater from her is cream white with a big butterfly in blue, yellow, and pink.

Don’t tell anyone but Auntie Diana absolutely loves her burgundy and gold lightning bolt sweater from last year as the lightning bolt was a symbol of her Olympian god father Zeus. She never tells this to the Justice League about it at all. Uncle Maui tries to avoid getting the sweaters from her, but they never stop persisting to come up at his doorstep, while Uncle Gru and Auntie Lucy love wearing them in pride: black/gray and teal respectively. Vinny, while never having the chance to wear his lately, loves to share about them to the Atlantis team and Mole is like super jealous that his friend got pretty cool sweaters from a mutual friend.

Michiru gets the lucky bonus of getting sweaters for Haruka, Setsuna, and Hotaru, each sweater was tailor made for each Outer Senshi and not just her. Belle gets a similar case with her, her dad Maurice, Adam, and the human Enchanted Objects too.

Obviously, Ron likes maroon the least and Tita Molly sometimes keeps on forgetting his likes and dislikes for such a long time until he, Harry, and Hermione went on the run during the Horcrux Hunt, making her realized how much she missed him compared to what her Horcrux self tried to counter. Since this, she made sure that she wasn’t forgetting him and one of the ways she does it is making orange & brown sweaters with the logo of the Chudley Cannons so he won’t have to buy them too often and he loves them to death because they have his favorite Qudditch team and his favorite color orange.

Hermione never admits that she likes the sweaters she got from Tita Molly, but I swear that she keeps them locked in a storage box hidden inside the townhouse she and Ron currently live in London. And with their first baby on the way (cough, cough Rosie cough, cough), I’m pretty sure that they’ll get more sweaters on the way.

The fam bunch, APEX, and the Survey Corps love to discuss about the sweaters every Christmas from who had the prettiest design to who’s unlucky to get an embarrassing design in the year to who’s gotten too many sweaters so far (aka Ron, though he honestly never regretted getting them from his momma in the end yet he won’t tell you that easily). So far, Sayeko and Levi win by having the best initial penmanship sweaters, Skipper has the most number of sun stamped sweaters (because that’s her symbol), Harry with the most number of sweater burning unfortunately, Team RWBY and the Survey Corps tied with the most team coordinated team sweaters, and, as for Philip, he’s going to get his first sweater for Tita Molly pretty soon. Won’t tell him about it as not to spoil everything to him.

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thenarator · 5 years

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Paradox Pack: The Paradox Job Pt 3

“Where’s Clubs?!” Nightingale demanded, throwing her weight against her restraints as much as was possible while bolted to an upright table. “Where are you taking him?!”

The men rolling her down the clean, white, empty hallway ignored her, acting almost as if they couldn’t hear her frantic questions at all. It was unnerving, being treated like she wasn’t doing anything, like she was just an object to be shifted from one room to another. She was already terrified, but this cold indifference did nothing for her nerves, and less than nothing for her temper.

“Let me go!” she screamed, thrashing as best she could. “I’ll kill you all, let me go!”

This did not persuade her captors, who continued to act as though they couldn’t hear her. Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they were just pretending. Maybe they’d been doing this so long they’d learned to tune out the frantic cries of their victims. Nightingale didn’t particularly care what the reason was, she just knew that when she got out she was going to make them regret.

Continuing to scream and swear, Nightingale instead concentrated on summoning up her power. She had tried, in the truck, clenching her hands tight around the wires of her cage until her fingers bled, but the power dampener had done its work well. Now the restraints were giving her the same feeling the power dampener had, making a wall out of her skin that her powers could not escape. She pressed at it, throwing all the force of her powers behind the push, but to no avail. Whatever was in these restraints, it was as effective as the power dampener. She wasn’t using her powers so long as she was shackled like this.

At long last the workmen stopped at one of the doors set into the walls on either side of the hallway and pushed it open. Nightingale was wheeled into a small, cramped room that was even more clean and white than the hallway. The walls, floor and ceiling were the same white tile, and there was no furniture or adornment anywhere, save only for the large mirror running the length of one wall. The air coming from a tiny vent near the ceiling was cold and sterile-smelling, like a hospital.

“You’ll regret this!” Nightingale shouted, still struggling with body and powers against the restraints as she was wheeled into the room and then turned to face the door. “I’m getting out of here and then I’m going to make all of you regret being born!”

Once again she was ignored, and the workmen filed out.

Nightingale screamed, for a while. She screamed her pain and fear and helpless frustration into the spotless white room. Then, once she had screamed enough for her throat to be sore and scratchy, she stopped screaming and tried to think. There had to be a way out of here. There had to be.

She had to get these restraints off. Which meant she would have to get someone to take them off her. Appealing to the humanity of anyone here seemed a completely lost cause, which left her with intimidation. If they believed she could get out on her own, eventually, she might be able to tempt someone here into letting her go in exchange for sparing them from her wrath. Might.

At length, though she did not know how much time had actually passed, a thin woman in a white lab coat came through the door. She had mouse-brown hair done up in a tight bun and horned rimmed spectacles perched on her narrow nose, and she was wearing a decidedly sour expression. With her she brought a cart, on which was a machine with many switches and dials, and wires coming out of it connected to electrodes, laid out neatly beside the machine.

“Let me go,” said Nightingale immediately.

The woman gave her an unimpressed look, then began attaching electrodes to Nightingale’s temples.

Nightingale craned her neck to get away. “Let me go or I’ll kill you.”

“Unlikely,” the woman said dryly.

It was the first acknowledgement of her presence, of her words, of her continued humanity, that Nightingale had received since she’d arrived. It was a strange thing to be grateful for, but it helped her fear fall down beneath anger. She summoned up that anger now, hoping it could be persuaded to get her out of here.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, quiet and deadly calm, looking the women square in the eye. “I’m Nightingale. The same Nightingale that died a few months ago. I died, and I was buried, and then I came back because there are people who need me. Not even death could keep me away from the people I love forever, so do you really think these little shackles are going to hold me for long? I’m going to get out of here, and then I’m going to make everyone who hurt me and my family regret having bones.”

The woman had paused while Nightingale spoke, and now Nightingale leaned in close and glared her down.

“Let. Me. Go.”

The woman’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Unlikely.”

***

The Shadow Fortress, as Butterfly liked to refer to the base Darkling’s family maintained in Halcyon, wasn’t difficult to get into. The door was very well hidden, but once you knew where it was it was left rather shockingly unlocked. Butterfly wondered if anyone had actually used the door since the Pack had last been here, when they had left without locking it, given that the base belonged to a family of teleporters.

Trying not to think about being here with her family Butterfly opened the trap door, and she and Pox descended in the the Shadow Fortress.

She found both Darkling’s parents working at the supercomputer, side by side as they typed on separate keyboards. Both of them looked up when she entered, but immediately went back to their work when they saw it was her, and only Eclipse cleared her throat and glanced over at Antumbra, who was fiddling with an old radio in the back corner. Antumbra turned her head at the noise, saw Butterfly and switched off the radio.

“Yes,” she said, before Butterfly could explain, “we know what happened.”

“You do?” Butterfly asked, perplexed.

Antumbra nodded sadly. “My source got back to me as soon as they heard,” she said. “We were . . . disappointed, that the trap worked, but it can’t be helped. Morgan is still young, after all.”

“They fought bravely,” Butterfly tried to defend Darkling. “They were only caught because they tried to save Sundog-”

“Whatever the reason,” Antumbra held up a hand to stem the explanation, “what happened happened. Now we have to get them back.”

“Do you have a plan?” Butterfly asked, hope making her feel lighter than air. “How can I help?”

“You can’t,” Antumbra said, “but thank you for the offer. This is a family matter.”

“The Pack is my family too,” Butterfly insisted. “I can help! I can fight, I can sneak, I can-”

“You can go home and let us work,” Antumbra cut her off, a hairline fracture appearing in her gentle demeanor.

“I have the address of where they’re being held,” Butterfly told her. “I can help, I-”

“We have a plan,” Antumbra interrupted her again. “We know where people with hereditary powers are shipped when they’re abducted by Gyges. We know where and how to intercept the transportation. We’ll get them back.”

“But, that’s just Darkling,” Butterfly shook her head. “The Ring of Gyges ships people to different places based on power origin. No one else will be sent to the same place as Darkling.”

“Morgan takes priority,” Antumbra said. “They are the future of our legacy. We can��t-”

“So you’re just going to leave the rest of them there?” It was Butterfly’s turn to interrupt.

Antumbra gave a deep, weary sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re damn right I don’t understand!” Butterfly fought the urge to stamp her foot on the floor. Pox, still on Butterfly’s shoulder, make an oddly cat-like hissing noise through her beak, her fur standing on end and her feathers puffed out to make her appear bigger. “You’re heroes! How can you just leave my team to rot like this?”

Antumbra shook her head but said nothing.

Butterfly glared at her for a moment longer, then spun on her heel and headed for the door. “If you won’t help me I’ll save them myself,” she called over her shoulder. “Darkling, and the rest of our family!”

No one tried to stop her or call after her, and once she was out in the open air again Butterfly had to stop and take a moment to calm the racing of her heart. She was so hopped up on horrified fury it seemed close to bursting out of her chest.

“Mean,” said Pox, fur and feathers still fluffed up. She generally tried to avoid showing that she could speak around people she or Butterfly did not trust, and neither of them had ever liked Darkling’s family.

“You’re not wrong,” said Butterfly, petting her absently as she stared unseeingly into space, blinking back angry tears for the second time that night.

She took a deep breath, and then another, and then she began to walk back the way she had come. There was one more place she could go for help, even though she liked it less still than asking Darkling’s family. One more chance to get some backup.

Barring that, she and Pox were going in alone.

#masks a new generation #the paradox pack #paradox pack #the paradox job

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smilingformoney · 5 years

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America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: Brunch with the Judges

+50 You: Who’s ready for waffles? Penny: I don’t mind if I do. Lead the way! Together, you and your fiancée slip out of the back door and lead the judges to your cottage.

By the time you arrive, AME crew members have loaded the kitchen with a full English breakfast buffet and savoury brunch items. A few remaining crew members linger, testing the lighting and framing out the cameras’ shots. You: This looked delicious… and you whipped it together so fast! Omar: The first rule of producing is ‘keep your leads happy’. If you say ‘impromptu brunch’, I say ‘right on’. Especially if I’m invited. Omar: But I’m not the one you should be schmoozing with. Go get in the judges’ good graces. Omar excuses himself to finalise the setup and snag some bacon. Your fiancée winks at you. Fiancée: Let’s do this.

Who do you talk to? -Penny

You and your fiancée find Penny on the front porch, watching as the tide rolls in. She smiles as you approach, hand-in-hand. Penny: I was just about to grab you two for a chat! I wanted to talk wedding planning. You: Let me guess. You have fabulous ideas you want to lay on us too? Fiancée: I’m not sure how much more we can take. It took us forever to make the decisions that are already made! Penny: I wouldn’t dream of coming between you and your vision. I just wanted to see how things are going. Penny: Weddings can be hectic, and it helps to have an outside perspective. You: My fiancée always helps me keep my head on straight, but when the going gets tough…

We know that we can count on… -Jen!

You: She’s the strongest, most caring person we know. Fiancée: And we couldn’t have gotten this far without her.

-Mackenzie!

You: She’s the strongest, most caring person we know. Fiancée: And we couldn’t have gotten this far without her.

-Adam!

You: He’s smart, practical, and he always keeps a cool head. Fiancée: There’s no one we trust more to keep us on the straight and narrow.

-Derek!

You: He’s smart, practical, and he always keeps a cool head. Fiancée: There’s no one we trust more to keep us on the straight and narrow.

Penny: You two have built a wonderful support system. It’s a great sign for a long and lasting marriage. You: You sound pretty sure. Just how confident are you? Penny: Nothing’s ever set in stone, but I can usually tell who’s going to make it down the aisle and stay there… and who won’t. She shoots a pointed glance across the beach at Vince and Ivy’s cottage in the distance. Penny: Let’s just say, other couples aren’t nearly as lucky in love as you two. Fiancée: Any ideas on how to keep our ship on the right path? Penny: Love. You: …Really? That’s it? Fiancée: It seems like a pretty simple solution to such a heavy topic. Penny: Love brought you together, and it’ll sustain you through anything as long as you never let the flames of passion die out. Penny: Thinking of each other will warm out in those hard times and keep your relationship cozy for years to come. You: Good to know. Thanks, Penny. Penny: Anything for young love. But don’t let me hog up all your time. Go, mingle! You and your fiancée take her cue and excuse yourselves to find the other judges.

-Lancelin

Lancelin reclines lazily in an armchair as you and your fiancée approach. Lancelin: Ah, les fiances. How are you finding the soon-to-be-married life? Fiancée: No complaints here. You: We couldn’t be happier! Lancelin eyes your outfit. Lancelin: As fresh off of the runway as you look… Lancelin: I expected nothing less. You: What do you mean? Lancelin: Style is an important aspect of a marriage, Jamie. If I could give you any advice at all, I-- Lancelin: Oh! But there I go again. Mettre mon grain de sel… I will keep my opinions to myself. Fiancée: We’d be happy to hear what you think. You: If anyone knows the importance of style, it’s you. Lancelin: If only both of our lead couples believed that. Vince and Ivy have asked me to… put a sock in it. You: That doesn’t surprise me.

You: Vince and Ivy… -Wouldn’t know style if it bit them!

You: May I present exhibit A: Vince’s perm. Fiancée: Personal style choices aside…

-Are still finding their groove.

You: As shaky as their relationship is right now, even the best advice might feel like criticism.

Fiancée: We’re not Vince or Ivy. We know a successful relationship takes a village, and we’ll take any help we can get. Lancelin: Yes, I’m starting to see that. Very well. Style is important, because the clothes we wear speak the words our mouths do not. Lancelin: A fashionable outfit may say, ‘I crave your attention…’ while a comfortable one may mean, ‘I need your support.’ Lancelin: Learning to judge your spouse’s mood from the clothes they wear will be a valuable, lifelong skill. You: We’ll be sure to remember that. Anything else? Lancelin thinks for a moment, before smiling mischievously. He eyes the camera trained on the three of you and speaks carefully. Lancelin: Actually, yes. Not everything requires a firm hand. Some things only need a gentle toss. Fiancée: In… marriage? Lancelin: Marriage, love, and other… challenges. He gives you a subtle, but pointed, wink. You: Thanks, Lancelin. We’ll… keep that in mind.

-Chadley

You and your fiancée spot Chadley at the breakfast nook, scarfing down eggs by the forkful. You sit down across from him, and your fiancée drapes their arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close. You: Uh, Chadley? Shouldn’t you slow down to chew? Fiancée: Or at least breathe? Chadley: Can’t stop… The fasting part of my diet starts in two minutes! You watch as Chadley keeps eating…

-Waffles! -More food? -Where is he putting all of this?!

…Until his plate is empty. When he finally looks up, he spies your fiancee’s arm around you and smiles. Chadley: You know, you two are pretty lucky. You get to do life together forever. That’s intense stuff. Fiancée: ‘Forever’ and ‘intense’ are pretty good descriptions of marriage, but I think we’re ready. Chadley: I don’t know how you do it. During Season 3, my relationship wasn’t even real, and it was still super hard. You: Wait, wait, wait… You were in a showmance?

You: I… -Called it!

You: My friends swore you were head over heels for her, but I knew it was too good to be true. Chadley: I’ve never been good at relationships. I thought a fake one would be easier, but with all of the press, my life was even more on display.

-Had no idea.

You: I thought you two were so in love! Chadley: A lot of people sailed our ‘ship’, but it was all for a movie. It’s just as well. We never had a moment of peace from the press. It would’ve torn us apart.

Fiancée: We know what you mean. The paparazzi swarmed this place last season. Chadley: As wild as it was, the experience taught me that just because I’m a TV personality doesn’t mean every moment has to be public. Chadley: Now, I keep some things personal, just for me and that special someone. You: I’m glad you didn’t let such a bad experience change your entire outlook. Chadley: Well, when life gives you a challenge… you just have to grab it and run with it. Chadley gives you a wink, and you and your fiancée thank him for his advice before standing to look around the room.

-Carson

You and your fiancée find Carson posing for the camera in the background of the other judges’ takes. You: Carson… What’re you doing? Carson: I’m trying to soak up some camera time. Three new judges means I get a fourth of the shots I usually get! Carson: If I spend too much time off-screen, they’ll be grooming Chadley as the new face of AME before I know it. And after last season’s… snafu… Carson: I don’t want to give them any reason to replace me. Fiancée: Even after the chaos of last season, they’d have a hell of a time trying to fill your designer wingtips. You: Not to mention, paying out your contract. You’re not going anywhere, because…

You: At the end of the day… -There’s no show with you!

You: You’re like a stamp of authenticity. No cast member can call themselves ‘America’s Most Eligible’ unless the Carson Stewart says so first. Fiancée: It’s like a rite of passage.

-The AME alumni would riot!

You: If every former cast member spoke out in your favour, the network wouldn’t dare let you go! Fiancée: You’ve got friends in some pretty high places.

Carson: You know what? You’re right. They need me. I’m the gatekeeper of dating eligibility, ushering in the next generation of American hotness! Carson: Consider all you two have been through, I feel like I’ve watched you go from inexperienced caterpillars to eligible butterflies right before my eyes! You: Out of everyone here, you definitely know us best. You were there when our love story started. Fiancée: Though we probably shouldn’t gloss over the fact that most of what we’ve been through was because of you… Carson: And yet you’ve come out of the other side as strong as ever, because, from the start, you’ve had your friendship to lean on. Carson: I hope that, no matter what you face, you always stay best friends first and spouses second. You reach for your fiancée’s hand and squeeze. You: I think we can do that. Carson: Good, because you never know what kind of obstacles will be in your way, but together, you can jump any hurdle. Carson: Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a candid post I’ve been dying to try out. You and your fiancée move aside to give Carson room to work.

As brunch comes to a close, Penny lifts her glass of champagne in a toast. Penny: To the soon-to-be-weds! Chadley: Here’s hoping you don’t ever get divorced cause that would suck. Fiancée: Thanks, Chadley… You: Thank you all.

You: Your advice was great… -But true love will carry us through! +SAPPY

You: As long as we have each other, there’s nothing we can’t overcome. Fiancée: I can’t wait to have forever with you. Penny: You two are so cute, I could just die!

-We appreciate it.

You: And we’ll follow it to the letter. We’d be foolish not to. You guys know everything there is to know about love! Lancelin: Try telling that to mon ex-femme.

-But it’s my way or the highway. +DRAMATIC

You: I’ve got my own ideas about living the married life, and I’m bringing my fiancée along for the ride. Fiancée: You’ve never steered me wrong before. Chadley: It’s like they say before filming, ‘Just nod and look great, Chadley.’

-No action

The judges look at you expectantly, but you lose your words! Your fiancée quickly takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. Fiancée: And we’ll keep it in mind. Right, Jamie? You: Right. That’s what I was trying to say.

Omar: Cut! I Think that’s everything we need. Let’s tear down and drop this footage off to Wrenn in the editing bay, please. Carson: We’ll let you get ready for the Challenge, but good luck, you two. Lancelin: We’re all rooting for you as impartially as we can. You: Thanks, Lancelin. The camera crew files out in a hurry, and, with a wave, the judges and Omar follow, leaving you and your fiancée alone to prepare for the Challenge ahead.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices ame #choices america's most eligible #america's most eligible

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guylty · 5 years

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Today I am doing something I usually don’t: I am going to show you something that I have made, but *before* it has arrived at the recipient. Those of you who have been following Flat Richie, know that my latest crafty obsession are junk journals. The little log book that is accompanying Flat Richie, is one such. I discovered junk journal making about a year ago and have been hooked ever since. I have made a good few, sold some, given some away. And right from the beginning, I had *one* particular theme for a custom-made junk journal in mind: Mr Thornton.

Seriously, why is the man not immortalised on a stamp yet?

I had it all in my head, and I started hoarding all kinds of pretty designer paper to make a junk journal with, but somehow the last push was missing. And then I came across a digital kit of images and designs that featured lots of yellow roses. The last piece of the puzzle was there, and I set to creating the journal.

This is already the inside cover of the journal

Rather than make this a big picture post, I have actually done a little “flip-through” of my North and South inspired junk journal and hosted it on Youtube. Much easier to show you my handmade journal that way. It is called “Thornton’s Signature” (in junk journaling terms a signature being one section of papers that is sewn into the book). Total added bonus: You have the pleasure of listening to my weird mixture of Djerman and Irish accents dulcet tones for all of 11 minutes! Watch my stumble and stutter now:

youtube

There we are. What do you think? Suitably Thornton-ish? Do you think I should make more of these, for inclusion in the birthday auctions later this year?

What I forgot to mention in the clip: The book cover is made from an old entomology book, hence the butterfly on the cover. It was just the right size, and so I decided to keep it and only cover the spine as well as the title (now obscured by that book plate). I had great fun creating the “ephemera” for the book – those are the decorative elements, i.e. the tags, journaling cards and envelopes, the pouches, collages and clusters etc. No matter how small the scrap, if it is paper, fabric or lace, I can use it.

And of course I had major fun sneaking “our man” into the journal. “I’ve always thought that it can’t be me [the fans] are responding to, it’s the character”, said Richard Armitage countless times. Sorry, darling, but no. I am *definitely* responding to you, because I am usually not fond of paternalistic, free market-loving capitalists. So I am doing him the favour and am creating some NS context. Luckily for us, photography was invented between 1838 (Daguerre) and 1840 (Fox Talbot), so a few images of Mr John Thornton, master of Marlborough Mills, Milton, survive.

As I mentioned in the video, this first Thornton junk journal is going to a very dear fandom friend of mine whom I owe some happy mail. In fact there are two shrines ready to go on their way to her, and now that I can add the journal, I am finally ready to ship. I just hope that she still likes RA. I haven’t heard from her for a long time…

If you think this junk journal malarkey has legs, let me know in the comments. I have a few ideas for other chaRActers up my sleeve, although I am actually quite happy to build another journal around Mr Thornton again, too.

Crafting for Fan Friends: “Thornton’s Signature” Today I am doing something I usually don't: I am going to show you something that I have made, but *before* it has arrived at the recipient.

#fandom love #John Thornton #North and South #Richard Armitage

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coolbuystamps-blog · 5 years

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What are Stamps Used for Today?

Stamps are as yet utilized the world over today. Stamps are utilized for a scope of things including:

• Stamp obligations used to move resources

• The interest of stamp gathering

• Using stamps to mail letters and bundles is as yet the most well-known utilization of stamps

Stamps are the explanation behind the expression how many stamps do i need "stamp obligation"; authoritative reports that spread the exchange of properties and resources need to tolerate stamp obligation in specific States in the US and nations, for example, Australia and Singapore. This can incorporate things like homes, lands, copyrights, structures, licenses, and protections. In spots with stamp obligation laws, an exchange of records isn't viewed as legitimate except if it has a stamp bearing how much assessment was paid connected. The stamps for stamp obligation are called income stamps, yet postage stamps can likewise be utilized for this reason.

Stamp Collection: stamp gathering is a diversion that has stood the trial of time and is about as old as stamps themselves. Stamp gathering is the point at which one accumulates materials identified with postage and sending letters. Stamp authorities will keep their accumulations in collections. While it is never again the most prominent pastime on the planet, stamp gathering is still appreciated by the youthful and old, people, nobles, and even sovereignty. There are more than 5 million stamp gatherers in the United States alone. Bill Gross, Patrick Dempsey, and Warren Buffet are all stamp authorities.

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Posting letters: sending letters is the thing that a great many people consider when they consider stamps. The stamps you connect to a letter or a bundle relies upon the heaviness of the bundle being sent. You can anticipate that your letter should cost somewhere in the range of $0.30 and $0.90 and bundles to cost up to $22 to send. Much obliged to you for perusing are full manual for where to purchase stamps.

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anais-mitchell · 5 years

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Philip Tour 12/29/18 Evening, Ft. Lauderdale

This show was so incredible. We were seated in the very back row of orchestra left, but the Broward theater really isn’t that big so we had a good view. Not really close enough to see faces but still decent. I’ll put this under a read more because it will probably get long!

Angelica Tour Review

Alexander Hamilton: Very good! It’s been said to death but the choreography is just so cool. I’ve heard criticisms of Nik for looking proud when saying “I’m the damn fool that shot him” but either he toned it down or I was too far away to see clearly.

Aaron Burr, Sir: Nik and Joseph just are such a good Burr and Hamilton together. I’m not sure if this is always the case but they were chatting while the squad introductions were going on rather than watching. Nik looked very offended by “what’ll you fall for?”

My Shot: LOVED Joseph here. He had so much energy and you could really feel that he was inspiring the guys and was so excited to finally share all his ideas and goals. Nik was very funny in his little bit, but Fergie had me CRACKING UP with his coat flourish; he like put his leg up on the table on pointe and it was ridiculously funny. King definitely showed Laurens’s shit stirring angry nature with the rise up bit, and Joseph had such a great buildup from Hamilton’s quiet self doubt to being emboldened by his ideals and new friends.

The Story of Tonight: This really revived the Lams shipper in me not gonna lie it was Gay. At one point they were like staring into each others eyes and Lafayette and Mulligan had to physically pull them apart and Kyle was like “eyes over here” with his fingers, definitely calling them out for checking each other out lol. They also were very touchy-feely walking off together. Anyways their voices were excellent and you could feel the camaraderie very well.

The Schuyler Sisters: YESS so much fun. Nyla was sufficiently sassy and Jen definitely reminded me of Solea with her excitedness and expressiveness. Her voice is just so clear and pretty I’m in love? Ta’Rea was also so over it with Burr and really went for it on her bit.

Farmer Refuted: Joseph is so tiny and angry it made me laugh. At “my dog speaks more eloquently than thee” King and Fergie (I think? Two of the Sons of Liberty) like got on each other’s back and mimicked dogs humping or something it was sooo funny. Also this confirms my theory that Eliza is definitely in character watching Alexander in the wings, she looked so entertained and giggled a little when she was pulled away by Angelica.

You’ll Be Back: Jon Patrick Walker is a pretty funny king.

Right Hand Man: This number is genuinely really underrated the ensemble choreography is so fucking cool. Marcus definitely commands the stage as Washington and really conveyed his frustration. Joseph and Marcus played off each other very well, Hamilton was definitely very inspired and reverential of Washington. Nik was all ruffled after being sent off by Washington.

A Winter’s Ball: Nik was super pissed at the beginning and very “wtf how does this guy do it,” which was kinda his attitude towards Hamilton the whole show. Laurens and Hamilton were also hanging off each other a ton at the start of this number.

Helpless: Okay so this was a definite highlight of the show!! Jen freaking killed it I was so so impressed. She had such a huge crush it was adorable, she was basically gushing to the audience and Angelica. She looked genuinely shocked when Hamilton looked back at her and like she had butterflies as he was walking over. Nyla did a super cute “look I have your letter!” dance on “one week later..” and both Joseph and Jen had the cutest victory dances. But ugh Hamilton’s bit KILLED me Eliza was so excited to spend her life with this dork and he cupped her face on “but I’ll never forget my mother’s face that was real..” Their Hamliza just had no concept of personal space they were so close together and intimate. Her riffs were also 10/10 I can’t stress enough how pretty her voice is. He was cupping her face again after the wedding kiss and they just looked so in love and happy my heart could not take it their chemistry was insane.

Satisfied: Lmao King played Laurens as so drunk for the intro. Ta’Rea did a very good job, her conflict between her feelings for Hamilton and love for Eliza was expressed well. Her bridge was really sad and she almost sounded on the verge of tears, she also had some very good riffs on the end. I thought she was good but didn’t really do much to make it her own. I wish I had more to say but it was a pretty standard Satisfied imo.

The Story of Tonight- Reprise: Silly and fun all around for the first bit. Joseph and Nik genuinely seemed to be friends in this song, Nik’s “to be sure” was pretty heartfelt. Fergie twerked on Nik which was as perfect as it sounds.

Wait For It: I was surprised by how much I liked this. It was an interesting paradox between how Burr was singing about self restraint and waiting for it but was also really letting himself go and be taken by his passion. I wasn’t totally sold on his Burr at first but I thought this was so strong, there was a definite moment at the end where he kind realized how he had let his passion overtake him and straightened his jacket and settled back into his calm, collected demeanor. This is a super hard song to pull of convincingly and I was impressed.

Stay Alive: Quality all around. Marcus and Joseph continued to play off each other very well and Joseph seemed so pissed that he couldn’t fight Lee.

Ten Duel Commandments: Oh my god Burr was SO OVER IT it was really funny. He directed “you have him turn around so he can have deniability” straight to the doctor as in “dude, turn the fuck around!”

Meet Me Inside: I’m pretty sure Joseph accidentally said “Joe, we won!” instead of “Go, we won!” for some reason lol. He was very petulant with Washington and his “call me son one more time!” was so pissed.

That Would Be Enough: Heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes. Joseph was so full of wonder and amazement when her first saw Eliza’s pregnancy. Like I said, no concept of personal space between these two and it was perfect. I feel like Jen’s Eliza was less begging him to stay and more confident that he would; kinda as if she was just reminding him of their love which made “I’m not afraid, I know who I married” more poignant. They were extremely soft as the lights went down with him touching her belly and kissing her hand.

Guns and Ships: I hate talking negative because it really was a great show but this was a letdown. Kyle’s French accent is poor and when you combine that with how deep and thick his voice is the quick paced rapping was just not working for anyone in my party, especially after seeing Chris Lee in Atlanta. The Hamliza goodbye was very sweet and sad though. Jen was not happy for him to be leaving.

History Has Its Eyes on You: Marcus really brought it, you could tell he was haunted by his past and that Joseph really understood the gravity of what he was saying. These are also some of my favorite ensemble harmonies of the show.

Yorktown: Seriously fuck Florida audiences for the dead silence after “Immigrants, we get the job done.” It was so awkward. But this number is always incredible and this was no exception, Joseph fully inhabited Hamilton’s emotions and drive to win. Fergie’s rap was so energetic and perfect. While Marcus didn’t hit “not yet” as powerfully as Carvens, it was still very good.

What Comes Next?: The stamping on “I’m so blue” is always funny.

Dear Theodosia: Lovely. They sang together very well and were super optimistic and proud.

Laurens Interlude: Again the Lams was really emphasized. Joseph knew by “it’s from his father” and you could just see his grief. The look between them was very emotional, as was “I have so much work to do.”

Non-Stop: This song is totally driven by the Hamilton-Burr interactions and Joseph and Nik did it excellently. You really started to see Joseph’s ambition and confidence increase throughout the song and Nik continued his “wtf” reaction to everything Joseph did. Also, my new favorite moment in the show with both Nicholas Christopher and Nik Walker is “he’s just non-stop”; while Christopher was like fake smiling through gritted teeth, Walker was just so exasperated and basically saying to the audience “the fuck is he on about?” Both equally hilarious. You could definitely see Eliza starting to lose some faith in Hamilton at “would that be enough?” and she was super pissed in “Alexander” and “isn’t this enough?” They all really set up the Act 2 conflicts well in this song.

What’d I Miss?: Right away I preferred Kyle’s Jefferson to his Lafayette, although it still wasn’t anywhere near Chris Lee’s (but few are to be fair.) My dad thought he was late on some of his lines but I didn’t pick up on it. I don’t remember that many details but he was funny.

Cabinet Battle #1: Kyle was shamelessly high fiving and shaking hands with all the ensemble members before it started lol. His mic drop to Fergie got a lot of laughs. Joseph went really hard on his verse especially the slavery bit, and when he went after Madison he started having a coughing fit and Jefferson was slamming on his back to get it out which was hilarious. Their exit off the stage was so silly and funny too. Also Joseph is so much shorter than Kyle it is ridiculous. Bonus note, watching Burr’s reactions to the argument in the left balcony is almost as entertaining as the argument itself.

Take A Break: ELIZA LOVES PHILIP SO MUCH MY HEART COULDN’T TAKE IT. Her beatboxing was so “proud mama” and King had an adorable Philip rap. I really liked Ta’Rea and Joseph’s delivery of “my dearest, Angelica.” Jen’s Eliza was SO EXCITED to see her sister!! And the end just broke my heart because throughout the whole song Eliza seemed so confident that he would come with them and she was really sad when he didn’t. Jen’s journey as Eliza really had to do a lot with her gradual loss of faith in her husband and it was super heartbreaking.

Say No to This: Nyla played a very sympathetic Maria, you definitely got the vibe that she was being pimped out and wasn’t lying about “beating me, cheating me, mistreating me.” Joseph was so angry at her but eventually gave in and had some pretty intense “yes” moans lmao. Nyla slayed the high note too.

The Room Where it Happens: By this point you could tell Joseph’s confidence was at a point where he really felt Burr was beneath him and somehow Burr was so confused as to how this had happened. Nik really put on a show in this number and his big revelation moment was electrifying. (Side not, I never understand why this moment gets laughs??) He tore up the stage towards the end and really hammered home the shift in Burr’s character. I said this was the highlight of my Atlanta show by far, and while it wasn’t the same level here, it still was amazing.

Schuyler Defeated: Nik was super self satisfied here and all “who’s better than who NOW hmm?”

Cabinet Battle #2: Good all around. I thought Joseph was really funny.

Washington on Your Side: The way Burr came out was so freaking funny, he had this goofy smile on and was doing this stupid little dance like “ooh yes lets bond over hating Hamilton.” They were all very intent on taking him down and conniving.

One Last Time: Y’ALL THIS WAS EXCELLENTT. I loved the way Joseph played off of Marcus but this number was all Marcus. He was so ready to rest while also trying to secure his legacy and his voice was incredible in the end.

I Know Him: Definitely the funniest King song of the night. His “WHAT” and “I KNOW HIM!!!” were hilarious.

The Adams Administration: BURR WAS DANCING WITH THE KING AT THE BEGINNING IN SUCH A SILLY PETTY WAY IT WAS SO GOOD. Joseph was just straight up pissed at Adams and his whole attitude was very “fuck it.”

We Know: Yeah Joseph panicked a lot and was very defensive. I think he was also really shocked that Burr had allied with Jefferson and Madison. Eliza and Philip in the balcony was a sad touch.

Hurricane: Ugh incredible. The lighting and choreography of this number >>>>. Joseph still seemed overly confident that he was making the right decision and he totally delivered on the intense emotions.

The Reynolds Pamphlet: As soon as the bass dropped you could see Eliza pull out a paper in the balcony and walk off. All the different reactions were super well done. Philip looked so upset and he first ran off after “his own house? Damn,” but at the mention of “our children” he turned back and had this heartbroken look and then ran off again. Jefferson and the king were having the time of their lives lol, and Washington looked very disappointed. Ta’Rea barely even let him touch her before she pulled away. She was so angry and sad at the same time. There was an interesting touch I’d never seen before where Joseph tried to put his hands like around her waist after “God, I hope you’re satisfied” and she shoved him away.

Burn: I feel like people get so caught up in Eliza’s anger that they forget how sad this song really is. She started off just devastated and totally at rock bottom, in utter disbelief with all her faith in her husband gone. Her “you, you, you” was just totally heart wrenching and then she had that moment of clarity where her emotions totally shifted to anger. Her burn notes weren’t as strong as they could have been but she totally made up with the emotion. The best part was the ending though, she was so icy on “I hope that you burn,” but then you saw her anger melt away and she was just left with that total sadness again. Jen was so so so good and I’m in love with her voice.

Blow Us All Away: Philip definitely inherited his unearned confidence from his father. Joseph seemed like he didn’t take it seriously enough and kinda just trusted it would all blow over. At the duel itself, King played Philip as more confident than nervous.

Stay Alive- Reprise: UGHH everyone brought it so hard here. Joseph was so utterly panicked and upset running into the doctor, the doctor was basically holding him back and he just sprinted to Philip. King very much played Philip as actively dying, he was sobbing and choking out words which I like so much more than “Philip is brave and pushing through it!!” because the kid is DYING he should be upset and terrified that this happened. Jen was in so much shock but she went for it so hard with the scream my heart shattered. You could see Joseph’s world just crash down around him as Eliza ripped her hand away and he realized all he’d lost.

It’s Quiet Uptown: @picquery did a much better job explaining Joseph in this song than I ever could, but he was really good. I wish I had been closer to see his faces better, but you could just see that his whole world and self concept had been completely demolished. This is where Joseph’s emphasis on Hamilton’s confidence up until this point and Jen’s emphasis of Eliza’s decreasing faith in Hamilton intersected beautifully. Hamilton really realized how wrong he had been in everything and how he really didn’t deserve Eliza but wanted her so badly. Watching Jen’s attempt to hold onto her anger but slowly letting it fade away as she fell back in love with Hamilton was so emotional. When she took his hand, they just stared at each other for so long; Joseph was just reveling in her forgiveness that he knew he didn’t deserve and Jen was just allowing herself to feel his love again. This is where their total lack of personal space came back and they were just so close together, they didn’t break eye contact until they left the stage and it was just transcendent.

The Election of 1800: God what a transition lol. Nik played it as if he was disappointed that Hamilton wasn’t initially warm to him rather than jumping right in with the cheesiness. Still, he looked very confident that Hamilton would endorse him and vice versa for Jefferson. Joseph was definitely itching to get back into politics which was very frustrating to see after It’s Quiet Uptown. I thought the ending between Jefferson and Burr was very funny, probably my fave Kyle moment of the show.

Your Obedient Servant: Nik was so shocked at the results of the election; it was almost like he had shown dominance or something over Hamilton in Act 2 and that would make Hamilton respect him when the opposite was true. He was very angry while Hamilton was more self righteous and unapologetic.

Best of Wives, Best of Women: Cute :((

The World Was Wide Enough: You could definitely feel that Nik didn’t want it to come to this but was gritting his teeth and doing it. Joseph’s monologue was definitely my favorite part of his performance, the choreography mirroring My Shot is so poignant and he conveyed this whole feeling of he had finally matured and realized what mattered and just wanted more time with Eliza. “Eliza, my love..” made me cry. Still my favorite moment in the whole show. Nik’s regret was super powerful.

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: Jen carried this so well. Her Eliza was so strong and desperate to preserve Hamilton’s legacy while also making the world a better place. “The orphanage” hit me so hard, the fact that Eliza lost her child and then helped raise hundreds more... Jen expressed this fully. Her reunion with Hamilton pulled on the heartstrings and she had the perfect gasp at the end.

Joseph Morales as Alexander Hamilton: We been knew he’s the best of the best and he was such a joy to see live. He brings so much energy and determination to Hamilton but isn’t afraid to show the uglier sides of him. Like I said, his Hamilton’s arc is really about the rise and fall of confidence and realizing what truly matters; his wife and family. He had amazing chemistry with everyone with whom he interacted but especially Jen, Nik, Marcus, and King. His singing and rapping is impeccable as well and so emotive. I was actually really surprised that my dad wasn’t as much of a fan as he was of Edred.

Jen Sese as Eliza Hamilton: Soo it’s no secret that I adore Shoba Narayan and she was the cast member I was most excited to see, so my heart did drop a little when I saw she was out. But let me say Jen Sese stole my heart!! She gave a near perfect performance as Eliza. Just for starters, she has this beautiful crystal clear almost soprano voice that just soars through the theater. I feel like she would be a killer Natasha or Cosette. I was so impressed by her Act 1 that I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to pull off the emotion of Act 2 but she absolutely did. Her Eliza’s journey was all about faith in both her husband and herself and she sold everything Eliza felt perfectly. She was the perfect Eliza to Joseph’s Hamilton, so grounded and supportive while also being firm and powerful. Her Eliza reminded me of both Solea and Shoba in the best ways. I could absolutely see her taking over this role or even either other sister after departures. I can’t say enough good things about her honestly.

Nik Walker as Aaron Burr: I was surprised by how much I liked him? Almost everyone I’ve heard review him had negative opinions but I thought his Burr was so different and engaging. Something about his Wait For It worked sooo well for me. His humor also worked for me and I loved his revelation moment in Room. I think his Burr was all about being respected and proving himself to carry on his parents’ legacy; it was very sad to see him fail to do so.

Ta’Rea Campbell as Angelica Schuyler: She did everything a good Angelica needs to do. Her bridge in Satisfied and her Reynolds Pamphlet were definitely two highlights of the show, and she had some killer riffs. I do wish she had done a bit more to make the role her own but she definitely played Angelica well.

Marcus Choi as George Washington: He gave a really excellent performance. His interactions with Joseph’s Hamilton were so good and his One Last Time almost brought me to tears, audios definitely do not do him justice because he is so much better live. He’s definitely secured his place as one of my favorite Washingtons.

Kyle Scatliffe as Lafayette/Jefferson: I don’t know if it was the fact that I saw Chris Lee (inarguably the best Laf/Jeff) in Atlanta or what, but his performance sadly did not do much for me. His French accent was Bad and he definitely lacked the rapping abilities to pull off Guns and Ships. I did like his Jefferson a bit more, he was sufficiently funny and had some really great moments such as the end of Election of 1800, but he was just not one of the highlights of the night. I think he’s much more suited to a role like Enjolras that’s more singing heavy, and he definitely had charisma as Lafayette but somehow he just feels miscast.

Fergie L. Phillipe as Mulligan/Madison: His Mulligan was perfection. He had the big booming voice of Oak but totally added some of his own flourishes and gave all the energy. I also thought his Madison was excellent and played really well off of Kyle’s Jefferson.

King David Jones as Laurens/Philip: I have really, really enjoyed what I’ve heard of Elijah’s L/P, so when I saw he was out I kinda resigned myself to a mediocre L/P performance as I have yet to see a really good L/P cover. Boy was I wrong!! King was so surprisingly good!!! His Laurens was definitely shit stirring, angry, reckless, and ready to lay down his life for what he believed in. He and Joseph were VERY strong in the Lams department which is something I definitely missed in Atlanta. Like they definitely fucked after Story of Tonight lol. I also enjoyed his Philip a lot. He oozed swagger and confidence in Blow Us All Away but his Stay Alive Reprise was SO heartbreaking because he was full on sobbing and could barely get words out. You really got the feeling of how much pain he was in and how scared he was of dying which a lot of L/P’s fail to deliver on. One of the biggest surprises of the show for me personally.

Nyla Sostre as Peggy/Maria: This is honestly a thankless role, but she did all she could with it. Her Peggy was super sassy in Schuyler Sisters and excited for Eliza in Helpless/Satisfied, and like I said, she played a very sympathetic Maria with a killer voice. She looked so betrayed and upset when reading the Reynolds Pamphlet.

And that’s that! All in all I am glad I saw the cast I did, they told the story perfectly. I didn’t stagedoor because I actually could not find it, I asked like three different ushers and they all gave me different directions and we were all so exhausted by then that we just went home. I’d be happy to answer any other questions about the show or specific actors!

#my posts #hamilton #joseph morales #jen sese #nik walker #ta'rea campbell #marcus choi #kyle scatliffe #fergie l. phillipe #king david jones #nyla sostre #jon patrick walker #hamilton review #philip tour #philip company

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