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your-eternal-lies · 4 days

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𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ╰┈➤ chapter sixteen

𝒏𝒐𝒕-𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 — do not plagiarize, copy, screenshot, repost/republish, and/or translate any of my work for posting on social media platforms or third party sites. no part of my stories are to be fed into AI software or generators. and please remember: you are responsible for your own media consumption. check for any content warnings before you proceed.

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐱 — 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — steve rogers x neighbour f!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — as his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the captain. getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — endings, but happy :)

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒆)

The music swells to a crescendo, the final notes hanging in the air like stars suspended in the night sky. You remain in Steve’s embrace, his strong arms still wrapped around you as if you are the most precious treasure he’s ever been entrusted with.

Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart that drums a rhythm more captivating than any melody.

“Think you’ll ever get used to this?” You tilt your head up, a playful glint in your eyes, teasing the edges of your question with the lilt of your voice.

“Used to what?” Steve asks quizzically, pretending not to follow.

“Being the centre of attention without having to throw a shield first,” you explain, nodding towards the small group of people watching you.

“Ah,” he smirks, taking note of Tony’s knowing smirk, Bruce’s shy nod, Thor’s booming greetings, “well, I think I can handle just about anything—if you plan on sticking around, that is.”

“Good answer, Cap,” you poke him gently in the ribs as he twirls you one last time.

“Seems like the party is wrapping up now,” Steve observes, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrates through your ear. “But somehow, I don’t feel like it’s ending for us?”

“Wrap-up? No way,” you scoff playfully, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye. “This is just intermission. Act two is where all the good stuff happens.”

“Is that right?” He grins suggestively, but you just pinch his arm and continue.

“Oh, you know… adventures, mishaps, midnight snacks—”

“Midnight snacks?” Steve echoes, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Absolutely essential,” you confirm with a solemn nod, tapping a finger against his chest. “You can’t save the world on an empty stomach, after all.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” he says, before that salacious grin makes a slow and deliberate comeback. “Or maybe…”

“God, you are incorrigible,” you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face tells a different tale. “Who are you, and what have you done with my sweet, innocent Steve? I thought you were a gentleman.”

“Only during the day,” he quips, not missing a beat.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest, pretending to be scandalized.

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles, grinning down at you. “After this, we raid Tony’s kitchen for snacks. But for now…”

His voice trails off as he bends down and lays another kiss upon your lips, your laughter mingling with the fading chatter of the guests around you, who are beginning to gather their things and exchange farewells. Yet in the cocoon of yours and Steve’s shared warmth, the clamour of the departing crowd seems worlds away.

“Right now, it’s just you and me,” you say, your words soft and earnest, devoid of the usual sarcasm and dry humour that you often wield like a shield.

“Just you and me,” he agrees wholeheartedly, his gaze tender and unwavering as he draws you even closer.

Hours later, as the dusk fades into an inky black sky, and after the party crowd has dispersed after saying their goodnights, you and Steve find yourselves in Little Italy.

Steve leans back against the worn leather of a booth inside Luigi’s Pizza. His plate, once piled high with slices of margherita and pepperoni, now lays empty, save for an odd crumb or two that had escaped his eager tastebuds.

“Well?” You prod, propping your elbow on top of the table, the curve of your jaw cradled in the palm of your hand.

“Okay,” Steve admits, remembering your insistence when you told him about this place when the two of you were still just strangers trapped together in an elevator. “That was incredible.”

“Right?” You exclaim, your laughter mingling with his contented sigh. You reach for the check presenter that had been discreetly placed on the edge of the table. “Luigi’s never disappoints.”

Steve’s hand gets there first, his fingers grazing yours in a fleeting touch that makes you shiver with anticipation. “Or maybe it was just the lovely company.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Stevie,” you reply, the nickname slipping out adorned with a fondness that you’re slowly growing accustomed to.

All his life he’d strived to be more than just unremarkable little Steve Rogers, and lately he finds himself wanting nothing more than to be just that. Not the hero, not the symbol, but just a man who can enjoy a slice of pizza without wondering what crisis tomorrow will bring.

And during the time that he’s with you, long or short, that’s not just a mere possibility anymore.

You stand up together, Steve slipping his jacket over your shoulders before you step back out into the night. The night is young as your hands brush, this time lingering just a bit longer, an unspoken promise hanging in the air like steam rising from the sewers.

As if completely in sync, the two of you step off the curb and back into the flow of the city that never sleeps. With each step, your lives weave together even tighter, embracing the spontaneity of the evening ahead.

The lights cast ever-changing colours onto the pavement, painting their way forward with splashes of luminescence. Steve inhales deeply, the cool night air filling his lungs and swirling around his senses, bringing clarity and a profound sense of peace he hasn’t felt in ages.

“Look at you,” you tease, calling out to him over your shoulder. “Breathing like you’ve never seen lights before.”

“Just taking it all in,” Steve admits, watching as the glow from the streetlights cast halos around you, getting lost in the sparkle of your eyes. The way your lips curve when you smile, the infectious enthusiasm in your voice, and the smart sass that comes so naturally.

And he finds himself finally believing—maybe for the first time since he’d been thawed from the ice—that perhaps this is a wonderful time to be alive, after all.

Fin.

« Chapter 15 || Series Masterlist »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

Notes — Omg another story finished! I had A LOT of fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride; I love you all!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

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thatfreshi · 8 months

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Muscle Memory (Uni AU P. 12)

tw - abuse, sexual trauma, drinking, slight mention of homophobia

That evening, after all of your friends have dispersed, after getting absolutely nothing done, you end up in Astarion's dorm. You're both sitting on his bed while he does your makeup, which he insisted upon. He complains every time you accidentally move or your eyelids twitch, but you know he doesn't actually care all that much.

"You know, you're the only person I've ever let in here."

You back away from his makeup brush.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Don't really like sharing my space with people. It's one of the only things I have that's truly mine, but I don't mind sharing it with you."

"Are you sure? Because we could always hang out in my dorm, or somewhere else."

"No, really, you're one of the only people I trust to be in here. You don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, you don't ask too many questions, you just exist here, like I do."

"I mean I'd never just look through your stuff. I feel like that's the bare minimum."

"You'd think so, but it gets to a point in a career like mine where nothing is really yours anymore."

At this point, Astarion has started on your face again, mindlessly talking.

"You said you started at sixteen right? Must've been hard, losing all that control so young."

"Well, I mean I didn't really have a choice. After all, I did get kicked out, and jobs for normal teenagers don't really cover the expenses of someone trying to be an adult already. Besides, I got in with a lot of disgusting agents, people who shouldn't have been involved with someone my age anyways."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Like I said, I did it to myself."

"You were just a kid though."

"Yeah, I guess I was."

The conversation goes silent for a moment as he grabs something else from his cosmetics bag.

"Why did you get kicked out, if you don't mind me asking?"

He raises an eyebrow slightly.

"Hm, no one ever actually asks me that. Then again, I guess I don't really tell anyone."

"I mean you don't have to tell me."

"No, no I don't mind. I came out, that's pretty much it. Funny when you're the star only child until you talk about liking men. I was miserable about it at the time, but I don't really care anymore. Besides, I have far too many other things to concern myself with."

He makes one more pass with a highlight, and then backs up to admire his work.

"There, you look wonderful my darling Tav. Perhaps you'll look more beautiful than all the exotic flowers you'll get to see tonight."

"You're sweet. Thank you, for all of this, for opening up to me. I know it hasn't been all that long, but you really are the best friend I've been looking for."

Astarion goes to respond, but is interrupted by his ringtone going off, interrupting the nice music he had playing. It's Cazador calling, Szarr's first name as he had told you a couple days ago. Apparently he thought his last name would sound better for the brand, and has everyone call him by it at all times, unless you're in his private inner circle. To your surprise, your pale friend declines the call.

"Did you just-"

"Yep. Not letting him ruin my night, I just can't right now. Besides, I have to make sure you're ready for this date."

"You can't-"

"What, just not pick up his call? I guess you're right. I've done it before though, and he'll simply send me some nasty voicemail. I'll get punished for it later I'm sure, but if he didn't do it to me, it would just be one of the other six. Better that I take the brunt of it."

"But why?"

"I've been working with him longest, I'm the most used to it. If I can deal with it, it's better that way. Being the scapegoat, it gives me some small way to protect the rest of them."

"You shouldn't have to though."

"Of course not, none of us should have to, but I'm just playing the hand I got dealt Tav. That's all any of us can do, especially when the house always wins."

"So what will you do, until you have to see him again I mean?"

"Oh, there's a fitting tomorrow morning. In the meantime? I'll probably go find a cheap place to get drunk, have sex with a stranger and try to forget. At least until tomorrow."

You nervously stare at your hands.

"Is that why you had sex with me that night? To forget?"

He looks off into the distance, trying to find that evening in his mind.

"I can't even remember. Maybe? Or maybe I was just scared. It's hard to say. It becomes easy after a while, to just offer up your body to strangers. Easier than other options at least. It's like muscle memory."

He then stands up, and offers you a hand to do the same.

"But anyways, enough about me. You have a suitor to go see, and I think he'll find you just ravishing."

Your eyes meet his, that reddish-brown not fully present with you.

"Just stay safe tonight, okay?"

"Oh darling, as if I'm ever truly safe. I'll try though, since you asked so nicely. Now, go on and get downstairs, or else you'll be late. Don't want to keep the handsome nature man waiting."

You thank him again for helping you get ready, giving him a tender hug, the kind that secretly makes him melt. And soon enough, you're out the door and downstairs, met with Halsin and a box of chocolates.

~~~

Astarion doesn't even have the energy at that point to clean up the scattered cosmetics across his sheets. He almost plays Cazador's voicemail, but instead turns his phone off and leaves it on the nightstand. Just like he said, he finds some bar that won't hurt his wallet too much, and drinks the night away, thinking about the possible strangers he could lose himself in. He tries to justify it, knowing that rolling around in the sheets with someone would make the thoughts go away, give him a break from the constant nagging in his head, but for some reason he just can't do it. In fact, he hasn't been able to force himself to sleep with anyone since that night in the diner parking lot. He'd never admit it, but he's been thinking about what you said that evening, how he was just someone trying to survive. And he secretly hopes you're right, that he hasn't truly tainted his soul, that somewhere deep down there's a good piece of him left. After all, he's pining after someone like you, someone who gave him the benefit of the doubt when he didn't deserve it, someone who is far better than him. At least that's what he believes, that even if he did tell you like Gale suggested, it wouldn't be enough. He wouldn't be enough for you, but maybe this Halsin character could be, and there's no way he'd deprive you of that chance.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #freshiau #halsin

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vladdyissues · 29 days

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Being in the Danny Phantom fandom has enriched my life in many ways. Artistically, through learning new drawing styles and writing tones and genres—but also scientifically. Specifically, it introduced me to the works of Carl Sagan.

How? Well, I needed something for Vlad and Danny to be watching in chapter 12 of Familiar. I randomly chose Cosmos, the series written and hosted by Carl Sagan. Like any obsessive good author, I ended up watching the episode that featured in the story. This is neat stuff, I thought. I'll have to come back and watch the whole series later.

Well, I did. And I found a copy of Sagan's Billions and Billions: Thoughts on Life and Death at the Brink of the Millennium at my local library. It's been a long time since I read nonfiction for the sake of learning, but I fell back into the groove easily (which reopened the door to—and rekindled an interest in—science and continuing my informal education). In short, I ended up loving Carl.

I'm close to the end of Billions of Billions, which has occupied a semi-permanent spot on my bedside table for several weeks. Last night, as I went to turn off my lamp, I reached over the back cover of the book, upon which Carl's kind, smiling photograph looked wistfully to the upper corner.

I wish I had known him, I thought.

Carl died of complications of MDS in December 1996.

That night, as usual, I had dreams. As one segued into another, I found myself wandering around a classroom laboratory with several other students, where apparently we were gathering for an after-school club of sorts. (I think it was some kind of week-long extracurricular event.) As I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to be doing, I heard a voice say, "There you are."

I turned and saw Carl Sagan—my professor. He was smiling.

"We've missed you. It's been a week."

I can't imagine, even in dreams, skipping a class taught by the Carl Sagan. Before I could stammer out an excuse, he waved his hand.

"Don't worry about it. At least you made it to the last meeting. Come on, it's just starting."

I don't know what happened after that. Everything was put on fast forward and 1x speed only returned as the meeting adjourned and students began to disperse. I felt as if I'd missed out on everything—a recurring theme in most of my dreams, especially academic-based ones.

And then Carl, still smiling, approached me. The next thing I knew, he was hugging me tightly. Stunned (and elated, I can't lie), I hugged him back. He had mass and warmth. I felt the bones of his back and scapulae beneath the thick velveteen layers of his brown corduroy jacket. His chin pressed my shoulder.

"I love you," he said, and I could hear his patient smile.

I think I responded. I don't know. I was overwhelmed. We parted, he turned, and disappeared. No goodbye or farewell, no instruction on what to do next. Just the words I love you glowing inside me like a new star.

Would he have said something like that in reality? I don't know. All I know is that this was my dream and he did.

Then this particular dream episode ended and I reluctantly moved on to the next one.

I don't put much stock in the supernatural these days, but I it was nice to have my wish of "meeting" Carl Sagan granted in this small, abstract way.

#danny phantom #carl sagan #dreams #personal #fic: familiar #who knew getting into the phandom would result in all this #i mean. putting aside the info and just looking at the friends i've made...#i'm just really glad to be here guys #🌠

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s0nia246 · 1 month

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Prologue: Rite of Resurgence

(Lore on my 06 Au. Thank you for reading)

https://www.tumblr.com/s0nia246/738812471410933760/sonic-06-rambling?source=share

"Are you ready, Elise?" He asked his daughter as he came through her bedroom door. She was already dressed in her ceremonial clothes and ready to be escorted by the high priestess to the sacred grounds where the ritual would take place.

The young girl who had been named after her mother nodded yes but remained quiet as she adjusted her veil.

The old man could tell that he worried his daughter's mind with the questions about what he was going to say.

"What's wrong, my little flame? Are you still not excited about being one of us?" His smile didn't reach his eyes.

It didn't reach his cheeks either.

A deep frown etched across his face even though there wasn't really a reason to worry her with this sort of stuff.

It was just the way he was.

He couldn' t help it.

She shocked her head , and she replied softly, "I'm excited. Just…worried." Her voice sounded so much older than she was.

Like an adult.

The Duke of Soleanna patted her on the back before taking her hands in his own and gently leading her down the stairs to join the rest of the clan members standing near the entrance. They were all waiting for him to arrive.

Elise could hear them whispering among themselves and giggling. She wanted to join in the fun but knew she wasn't supposed to.

"You'll do wonderful today, sweetie. Just like your mother," the Duke assured her as they made their way out towards the clearing.

The crowd began dispersing as soon as they arrived outside the main temple gates. Everyone went to their different places and watched as the ceremony took place.

Elise felt nervous and looked around at the other clan members. All of them were staring at her intently.

Even if she couldn't see their faces , she knew they must have been looking at her with some sort of judgmental expression on their face. Elise turned away to face forward again and continued walking beside her father.

They reached the sacred altar, and he helped his daughter up the three large steps to stand next to grandmother, the previous Empress now High Priestess, who stood on the highest step.

The woman smiled warmly and whispered something in her ear. Then she turned to the crowd and gave them a few words before the official start of the ritual. Elise thought that they were probably about her father.

She wondered how many times she'd heard those words before.

"It is our honor that you are here today to witness our dedication to our God Solaris and our new life as followers of His teachings. We have come here today because we seek to learn from your wise council, our ancestors, and your wisdom." Grandmother spoke and paused a moment to look over to the far left side of the room before continuing, "Let the Sun God bless and guide you all. May His blessing fill the hearts of all who follow his light…"

As the priestess finished the prayer, Elise watched as a large ball of fire slowly emerged from the center of the altar. It grew in size as she watched it. When it became so huge that Elise thought she could reach up into it. Her hand involuntarily moved up toward it.

She was transfixed on it. It was mesmerizing. But then it happened. Just like the sun, eventually, the fuel of the sun will run out. Creating a supernova.

An explosion.

A star burning brighter than any human could ever hope to burn.

Chaos ensued.

People yelled or shouted, running around madly trying to flee, or o get as far away as possible. The sound of metal breaking rang in the air around the small temple.

A wall cracked from where a rock fell onto it. The floor rumbled beneath their feet. People tripped and hit their heads on the stone floor. Monster made of lava and shadows rose to the surface from below. Some people screamed and ran. Others held tight to each other and tried to avoid the shadows at all costs.

A few brave people stood their ground and fought back until they were overpowered. Elise saw some of them fall on top of one another, clutching at their throats while others cried in terror and pain. Their lives would flash before her eyes.

One moment, the, would be alive…and the next second the, would be nothing more than ashes in an endless fiery inferno. Her heart dropped, and her throat constricted at the sight and sound of their death. Her knees buckled, and she started sobbing uncontrollably. She hadn't seen anything like this before.

1The flames engulfed everything. There was no escape. There is nothing left to live for.She screamed for her father to save her. He always saved her.

Every day, she prayed to Solaris that he would appear and rescue her from these terrible circumstances.

But nothing changed.

No one ever showed up.

Why didn't anyone help her?

Elise looked around for some type of protection against these horrible creatures. Something that would prevent her from dying when the monsters destroyed everything.

As one of the monsters triedmonstersack, she put her arms up and shielded herself from its attacks. She closed her eyes and prayed again.

Please, please show yourself, please save me.

She gasped as someone grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the beast.

“Get away from it!” Her rescuer yelled.

“There isn’t a chance in hell it’s going to leave here alive!"

Elise opened her eyes again. Tears streamed down her face as she looked into the eyes of her savior. This person seemed familiar. She couldn't quite place where she'd seen him, but she knew that he was important. She had to believe that he was important. Because she wanted him to protect her.

But why? What did he have to gain by rescuing her? Why would he risk his own life for hers? Her savior was amorphous ma an s of darkness, which emitted an aura and behaved similarly to liquid.

It was hard to make him out except for his eyes. Green eyes with slit pupils stared right into hers.

‘They were beautiful’ she thought to herself. The stranger’s face was twisted into a strange mask of fear and desperation. It reminded her of…a wolf in sheep's clothing?

Yes.

That was it.

She'd seen that same face before. But that meant he wouldn't hurt her.

Right?

The monster lunged at them once again.

Again, another jumped in front of her with both hands raised, palms facing upward. Flames burst forth from its hands, stheirng both the darkness and Elise to the ground. The darkness turned to her.

“Come, let’s go. You need to get to safety first.” His tone told Elise to do exactly as he suggested.

And she obeyed.

She followed behind him in silence as they made their way out of the temple. He stopped and waited for Elise to catch up to him, but she slowed down to match his pace instead. She knew he wanted her to stay close to him. She didn’t want to lose track of him in all of the chaos surrounding them. He walked beside her, saying nothing.

After a while, he stopped and knelt down on the ground with his back straightened and his head bowed. After he got comfortable, he motioned to the princess with his finger, telling her to kneel too.

She complied and knelt down, facing him while holding her hands clasped together tightly in front of her.

The creature in the black cloak spoke, “Can you hear me, Iblis ?”

She hesitated, “yes.”

“Good. Listen carefully. Tell me what you see,” the voice commanded.

“A lot of things…darkness…burning red…screaming.”

“Is that all?”

“No..”

“Go on. Please.”

“Fire...lot's of fire....it's quiet now. Quiet everywhere….the screams gone…"

“What do you feel when you think about them, Elise?”

“My , family …they died....They're dead…..dead….” she whimpered.

“Tell me about them.”

Elise took deep breaths to steady herself and tried to focus. She tried to remember their names. Similar to the darkness, a flame next to her and appeared to be giving off heat.

“You don’t understand…I'm so alone. Everyone will get mad at me about-“

She broke off.

She couldn't finish her sentence.

She wasn't sure if she should say what she was thinking or not, especially since it might get him mad at her, too. Instead, she said nothing and hoped he understood her meaning.

“Everyone? You have us now."

"You?" she asked with a surprised expression.

He nodded. Putting his hand on his chest. "I am Mephiles the dark. Your protector."

She continued listening while looking intently ahead.

"And this is my other half, Iblis, the Flames of Disaster," he added, pointing to a flame figure standing next to her. Both Mephiles and Iblis reached down toward her with their hands outstretched. She reached forward to grab one of the glowing hands and they helped her to stand up. Mephiles said, “You must be tired being on your own. It will be good to take care of you and protect you…like you have done for me and Iblis.”

She began shaking her head, “I…I can’t. You guys mean too much to me. I just found you.”

“It’s okay Elise. You don't need to worry about it anymore…you are found the rest of us now. We'll protect you."

Elise nodded, agreeing to his terms.

“Yes.” Mephiles placed his hand on her shoulder and led her away.

She was safe.

She could finally begin to feel safe again.

Everything seemed better now.

For once it was just , he three of them.

Again, thank you for reading!

#sonic the hedgehog au #sonic au #sonic 06 #sonic the hedgehog #sonic 06 elise #princess elise #mephiles the dark #iblis #Sonic 06 Mephiles

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jovesstudyroom · 7 months

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In That Room (Chapter 1)

Ghost COD x Reader

Slow burn love not for sauce (though it still might take a little)

TW: Gore, violence, sexual stuff (later), and abuse/torture

Y/N is a former army recruit turned investigator trapped by a mysterious and weirdly fatherly war criminal, Morinda. You are locked in a room for three years, in a state of weakness. Task Force 141, with the help of others, breaks in to find Morinda and rescue their men. Ghost breaks down the door to your cell, finding you in chains...

The dark mud-cemented walls around were your home. Time passes so liberally without including you in its ticks. Your captors fail to give you enough food and water, a sick game of keeping you weak yet conscious enough to be used for whatever information they crave. Your hair sticks together in dirty bits, though Morinda would come in sometimes to brush it as you fought against your chains, well when you used to fight. His perfect captive-made daughter, Mira, seems to be your destiny now. Drops of water fall into a plastic bucket in a corner.

“One, two, three, four…”

Before, however long ago that was, you would pull your chains and let the metal bite into your wrists and ankles just to kick over that stupid red bucket. It’s a devil roommate you can’t ignore or stop. Now you count them in groups of four like a song. Your head aches with the beat. All a game from some unknown group. You lay on the floor facing up at an incandescent light that never falters overhead. No point in huddling in a corner. You just want to be free, to murder everybody in here. You imagine the sky, the stars and the moon; the sun on your skin. All you can do is close your eyes and dream… until he comes with more questions that won’t be answered. Why did they think you had all the answers? Electrocution is just a day in the sun now. Something that reminds you you’re alive, though one time your heart stopped. You came to with Morinda over your body, a devilish look of worry spread over his face, you were still his. Morinda never offers death. He “likes your face too much.” The face of his Mira. Your thumb and pointer fingers are bandaged, the nails growing only to be harvested again. Soon they’ll have to kill you.

"No one is coming, so please let them kill me."

The static of silence disperses into heavy footsteps. Maybe this visit… A dream of eternal peace washes over you in preparation. Gunshots. You quit counting. You quit coping. Fear ricochets through your brain like electricity, but you stay down. Eyes closed. Whatever is going down, you can at least be an easy target if lucky.

The sound of doors being busted down sounds around you in tandem with incoherent yelling from two men never heard before. Let them be killers, just killers.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

They reach your door. It falls inwards. Someone enters. Their grave footsteps crunch while more banging takes place down the hall.

“Come in Price,” a deep voice grumbles, softened by a British accent you can’t place.

“Found a prisoner, only female so far, looks about early to mid-twenties. (Y/H/C). Maybe, (Y/H).” The footsteps draw nearer. “Do we have any records?”

He speaks but you can’t comprehend. Everything in your mind is in a frantic fire while your body is useless. Nothing makes sense, you just repeat prayers for release.

Opening your eyes slightly, you are sure Death truly has come. A hulking skull-masked figure towers over you. His head and body are covered in thick fabric, armour, and a large tactical vest. Light shines in behind him. Sunlight.

“Finally,” you murmur. “One, two, three, four…” You keep on in whispers.

“Oh, so you’re alive then?” He looks over his shoulder before crouching down over you.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you rasp and smile.

“That’s quite the compliment, darlin’. Do you have a name?”

“You should know. It took you enough time to find me on your list.”

“List?”

“If Death is a proper physical being, then what other stories are true?”

“Hell,” he sighs. “Call me Ghost. Just a guy here to get you out.” Ghost quickly brings out a knife from his waist and then grabs your hand, unscrewing the bolts that keep the metal clasped around your wrist. “You’re not dying yet.”

He moves on to the next hand as you speak. “You’re taking me outside? One, two, three, four…” The drips continue, and so do you.

“I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

“I want to be outside.” You want to live in the woods in a burrow under a tree, far away from any person.

“You will be. Now what’s your name?”

“Did you kill them all?” The man moves to your ankles.

“That I don’t know. I've answered your lot of questions, now your turn.”

“Mira…no…no.” What was it again? “Y-Y/N” Saying your name feels awkward, your mouth has lost the feel for it. “One, two, three, four…”

“Come in Price,” Ghost speaks into his earpiece.

“I’ve got a name, (Y/N). She’s in pretty rough shape.”

“Let’s get you up.” A firm arm, thick with tactical clothing, lifts so you sit up. He offers an arm, which you take slowly. Dense muscle gives good support. You can’t help but gaze at his face. Death trying to keep you alive after being so near all this time. Stark white eyes, surrounded by black paint dig into your own as he wraps his arm around your back. You both begin to hobble out… till you see that stupid red bucket. Something snaps in you, maybe reality. It feels animalistic and real. Maybe it’s what you’ve been keeping down so you didn’t fully lose your mind. However, you’re getting out now. You can act. The real world stood out there, and you- you were in here for an eternity being branded, ripped at, and groomed by a man and his overzealous posey. You push yourself away from the man, Death, and shriek.

Your knees crash down onto the cement, and the thin pants give you little help from scrapes. You grab the bucket and start thrashing it at the ground, water exploding.

“Fuck!” You scream and hit the bucket over and over into the ground. You wail like your mother must have when she heard of what happened to you. You wail like the first time you felt chains around your limbs. Crying and heaving till the bucket is nothing but shards of red plastic. Your hand seeks out the sharpest one, it comforts like nothing has in a long time. Quiet resumes in your countenance. You both just need to get out of here.

“Go Price.” Ghost pauses, listening to a short version of your folder they must have at base. “Two years? Fuckin' hell." He looks me up and down. "We are going to extract. I’ll leave the rest to the team. We’re pretty much done over here anyway. Over.”

A giggle escapes you as you go to leave the room. This has to all be some absurd dream. Two years? Ghost makes his way to you, grabbing your arm with his firm hand, but you shrug him off and lean against the wall.

“Listen to me, alright? I know you were trained in the army before going investigator, remember that training. Stay silent, you already caused enough racket to get us killed… and take my fucking arm.”

You grab it and hang on this time. You both go on quickly. Ghost holds his large M4 Carbine, checking corners. Gunshots ring out, but you keep going. The building has broken-class windows and is dusty with sand and wartime fallout. Footsteps your way. Ghost grunts as he pushes you into a side room, shutting off his radio. You two press behind an open door. Ghost towers over, arms on either side of you. You clutch your weapon. He smells like metal and sweat. People pass by, shouting in a language often heard, but never understood.

“Deep breaths,” Ghost whispers. You can see his eyes behind the mask, they are unnerving but calm. A deep breath is forced, in and out.

“One, two, three, four.”

“Move on,” his husky voice commands.

You leave the room and can’t help but look outside. Outside. It shines brightly like a mirage. You count your steps in four quietly. Ghost practically drags your broken body through the clay-coloured hallway. A flash of metal glints outside behind a broken-down car. You pull him down.

“What the-” Gunshots ring out from over us as you both kneel on the floor, looking both ways and at each other. “Quick eye.”

“Lucky,” you respond.

The two of you crouch-walk along the floor, a movement hard on your tired body. You pant, already exhausted. “Come on just a little way further,” he says.

Windowed walls end and it's a straight shot to the stairs. You go for it but are stopped by two men. Ghost quickly shoots one. The other man charges him, grabbing the barrel of his gun, and readying his own small pistol. It all happens quickly. You know that man’s face, clear in the background smiling while shocks rippled through your whole being. He doesn’t even pay you any regard now. Your hand tightens around the sharp piece of plastic from the bucket. This violence is quiet. You move swiftly from behind Ghost as he pushes the attacker off. You raise your arm and jump on him, toppling him to the ground. A bullet goes off from his gun. The large shard in your hand comes down and punctures his neck with all vengeful strength. The man's eyes go wide. He grabs at his throat while you remove the piece. Blood spurts out, spraying everywhere. You’re in shock for a short moment, but everything snaps back like an elastic band. Warm liquid runs over you as you wipe your mouth. Metal can’t help but be tasted.

“Jesus Christ.” Ghost stares at you. You wait for ostracization, but Ghost cuts the tension with: "I can’t judge too hard, you saved my skin… though I didn’t need it.”

“I need a fucking cigarette” You rasp while wiping your face. Why would you ever care what he thought? A wave of dizziness succumbs you as you collapse. The moment of adrenaline is starting to pass, and that last pounce took all you had.

“Common,” Ghost tries to pull you up. You try, but find your limbs in a state of cold sleep. You shake before collapsing again. Without a moment to waste, Ghost scoops you up in his arms. Your head rests against his bulky vest, vision slightly blurry. “Stay with me (Y/N).” The smell of him, of the earth you have almost reached is the only sense intact. You feel your body beat against his chest as he moves. Ghost rushes down the stairs to the entrance.

Light fills your vision, you didn’t even realize your eyes were closed until now. You see Ghost's concerned eyes look down at you before scanning the environment. “Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He ducks behind a car, breathing heavily now that he also has to carry you. Beyond him is a light blue-grey sky with sparse clouds. Dusk or dawn? you can’t tell yet. The wind picks up, it's fresh and cool. From there it’s a blur until you both meet up with an armoured jeep with a gunman on top. We made it, hopefully.

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #female reader #fanfiction #canon is dead this is my mind reality

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paperpeacock · 2 years

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hihi! i’m so glad there’s someone who writes for the vld fandom that’s still active omg your writing is so lovely, you know that episode where they finally make it back to earth? after keith was stuck in the time loop thing and all of that stuff, could you write something about that where like the reader sees him jump out of the car and like bolts towards him like they’ve just missed him sm 👉👈

Hi! thank you so much! this request made my heart swoon~ it's so sweet! I hope you enjoy this and remember to have an awesome day.

Keith x Reader - There you are

The clouds gently passed upon the dull, ashen sky. Swallowing the land in a veil of fog and sending forth the brisk autumn gale. You watched the forest of apricot trees, leaves dripping from their branches before being swept by the wind. As time carried on, the sight of such tangerine shades grew scarce. The flora dispersing into few far and between. The land became barren, acres of forests, dissipating into a mire.

“We’re almost there now” Coughed a hoarse voice. Beside you sat Allan, a head of sparse silver hairs, a full beard and a crabby face. Despite his ill-temper he treated you with nothing but kindness, as if you were his own.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so excited” You giggled quietly, peering out upon the icy world. “But nervous to...” You hadn't seen your raven-haired prince in quite some time, the last time being when dropped him off at the Garrison. From then only entropy ensued as he was taken half way across the universe, far, far away. You hadn't heard from him, sharing the worries with the rest of the families that missed their paladins dearly as they fought for their lives in the far reaches of space. Your days were filled with thoughts of him, you worried he wouldn't feel the same.

“we’re here...” Allan croaked, pulling into the parking lot. Security insisted you waited here, at least until everyone got clearance to go outside. “They said he should be out soon” he reassured, whilst also pushing his seat back and getting comfortable. You flipped open the overhead mirror, inspecting your face. You made sure to fixup your hair, but yet you still pried at a few loose strands. Gazing into the mirror you were met back with a pair of troubled eyes, wide in worry and distress.

“Allan?”

“Yes?”

“What if...what if Keith’s changed” You gazed at the elder beside you, seeking assurance.

“Probably has” he responded, cap covering his crinkled eyes. “Afterall he’s been travelling through the stars, that ought to change anyone”

“Yes, but what if he doesn't feel the same way about me anymore” You pleaded, anything to prove your worries. “I mean, we haven't seen each other in so long... what if he doesn't think of me anymore” Your head hung low, spirits sinking deep into a pool of doubt. Going so far in as to think, what if Keith met someone else.

“Y/N” You were pulled from your pond. “Keith wouldn't be fighting for clearance this soon if he didn't want to see you” Your gaze landed upon the old man. “Infact, they weren't supposed to be out for at least a week but the boy couldn't wait that long” This was true, your concerns couldn't deny such a potent fact.

“I guess so...”

About twenty minutes ticked by, you watched the outside eagerly, bouncing your leg in excitement. Suddenly, the main entrance opened up, the metallic doors sliding open.

“Is that him?” You searched around from your window, trying to get a better view of who it was. From out the large building paraded two guards, shouldering between them a familiar face. “Thats him! That’s him!” You gushed, hand gripping the door handle. Security pointed towards your car, an old scarlet pickup, rugged and beaten compared to the fleet of sleek garrison cars.

Keith recognized it instantly, something so familiar an unchanging, he felt his heart swell. You clambered out the car, quickly stepping towards him.

“Keith!” You yelled, waving your hand. His distant figure raised his hand back.

“Y/N!”

Your legs moved on their own, pushing into a jog to then a full sprint. Wind rushed past your face as you drew near to each other. Every bit of power was placed in each step, before they could take you away from him. You dashed upon the concrete, launching yourself into his crashing arms. He wrapping himself around you, arms snug upon your waist, swinging you in circles. You let out a summery laugh.

“Keith” You panted, staring down at him as he held you up. “Hi” he met your gaze, shadowy eyes filled with adoration.

“It's been a while” you smiled, as he gently set you down. Your arms still hung around his neck, cupping the ends of his midnight locks.

“I’ve missed you...so much” He breathed, voice trembling. Before you could respond, he pressed his head into your neck, pulling your figure close. His grip was tight, as if he was never going to see you again, but no. This was hug he didn't get to give you, when he was swept away. This was what he wanted you to know every day he spent protecting the stars, defending the universe. This was what he would never lose again.

“I know” your fingers threaded through his hair, drawing him near.

From the other side of the parking lot sat Allan, watching the scene unfold before him. A smile played his lips as he shook his head. Keith was finally home.

#voltron legendary defender #keith x reader #keith kogane #voltron #fluff #my writing #fiction

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supernovaa-remnant · 6 months

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tell me why jupiter is so important :0

jade I am so happy you asked this question!!!

we actually owe everything to her, and hopefully I can explain that well in this post <33

so, I'm not sure how many people know this, but Jupiter was almost a star (a brown dwarf, but still notable I think). I am not exaggerating when I talk about how absolutely massive Jupiter is. And, with that mass, comes an incredible gravitational force.

there's an asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. the edge of the asteroid belt is ~3AU which is where the snow line is which separates the inner and outer solar system (the snow line essentially just shows how close to the sun solid water aka ice can be before it melts, hence why planets in the outer solar system are largely made of ice).

however, asteroids are not dispersed uniformly across the asteroid belt. there are certain distances from the sun which have very very few asteroids, and this is due to something called resonance. essentially, resonance is when the orbits of two objects are in sync. there's a lot of science-y stuff that I could explain, but I don't really feel like getting into it in this post (feel free to ask me to elaborate though if that's something you're interested in!!), but what you need to know is that these spots in the asteroid belt are in resonance with Jupiter. and asteroids do not like to be in resonance with Jupiter.

here's a graph that shows what I said above in case anyone's interested (yes I took this from the lecture slides from my class)

so, what essentially happens, is that Jupiter's gravitational force affects the asteroids in resonance and completely changes their orbits and increases their velocities, throwing them either into the outer solar system or into the inner solar system.

this is the only reason we have asteroids that cross Earth's orbit.

why is that important? well, a) an asteroid impact is what killed the dinosaurs. without the extinction of the dinosaurs, mammals never would have been able to evolve in the way they did.

but, more importantly than that: the earth did not start of with liquid water!! that (and amino acids which are fundamental for life) was brought in via asteroid impacts, which never would have been possible if not for Jupiter.

so, everyone say "thank you, Jupiter," because otherwise all this wouldn't exist

#jade!! thank you thank you thank you I love talking about space!!!!!!#stella space talks #stella answers #jade pixelgreen

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kariachi · 9 months

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Thoughts as I look at Pern stuff...

Somehow in all my bitching it has only just hit me that there are no native terrestrial herbivores really shown in the Pern series. The tunnelsnakes are constantly shown as carnivorous, the wherries are constantly shown as carnivorous though there might have been a time they were mentioned eating plant matter, the firelizards are introduced as omnivores but treated like carnivores... Pern just, doesn't do herbivore's apparently.

And before anybody starts on 'well Thread' as a general rule what people tend to use- to my memory- as the basis for how long Thread has been a thing is the age of the fossils of large herbivores found during the initial survey. Well, I'm looking at the page and those were described as being 50 thousand years old. Of course this doesn't give us a proper description of how long Pern has been dealing with Thread- after all, it's entirely possible that some herbivores (they're described as grazers but that's it) survived the early rounds of Thread, as well as possible that they were dead and gone long before Thread showed up- but it's what we have.

Now, 50k years is generally not long enough to have what's considered 'lasting' evolutionary change- that is change that's not going to, well, change- and also isn't very long after an initial Mass Extinction Event to recover, but while Pern wouldn't be near on level with Earth it has two major things going for it on this front-

1) We know for certain the initial extinction event took place over a short period- the effects of the Red Star's passing last about 50 years, with about 200 years of leeway before the next blow. This was a quick hit, with recovery time following, followed by another hit, in a consistent pattern.

2) The species least capable of adapting to Fall would have died out in that first Pass, and it would have continued like that for each Pass that followed, until all that was left was fuckers that could get through. You hear a lot about Thread destroying everything, the McCaffreys like to throw it out there that Pern would be stripped of all life during a Pass if it weren't for human and dragon intervention, but if that was the case Pern would not have had terrestrial life when the humans got there. And I'm sure there's people out there who use that fact to claim that the Red Star has only been around for like two Passes prior to this or something, but the facts as we're given point to Pern having had strong pressure to produce species on terrestrial plant and animal that could survive and even thrive during a Pass, and having been managing it.

Follow along. The first ever Pass hits Pern, the first fuckers that are going to go are the largest terrestrial herbivores and the slowest growing plants. These will both be the ones least likely to be able to evade Fall, least likely to be able to find enough food to survive after Fall, and least likely to be able to make up for the initial loss in numbers. You'll get outliers though- Skybroom trees, for instance, who likely originally evolved to fend off native herbivores, fires, potentially rockslides or some such- mostly those whose preexisting adaptations give them an advantage in dealing with Thread. For example if a species of plodding herbivore used various secretions to build itself thin stone armor, that would grant it greater protection against Thread, while if it also reproduced in large numbers due to young not being as well defended by their armors that would allow more opportunities to make up numbers.

Next to go will the species that rely on those species, select predators, plants, smaller critters, who relied on those species for food, shelter, to disperse seeds, etc.

You'll also see a loss in smaller non-aquatic species who don't have evolutionary traits that help against Thread. Precognition, teleportation, burrowing, cave-dwelling, fire-breathing, shells that were Thread resistant, body oils that that Thread slipped right off (like Thread off a duck's back~), these and more are the traits you're liable to see in a majority of Pernese species by the time of colonization, which by the way by these estimates would be the 201st Pass.

Seriously 50,000 years ago our ancestors probably hadn't run into neanderthals yet, we were over 30,000 years from going "hey, what if we kept some of these wolves around", it's been a while

There's a critter mentioned that has a sticky back that things land on and it digests them right there, I promise you that fucker found success by having just enough bastards that could eat Thread faster than Thread ate them and adapting there let them become absolute menaces to anything that landed or stepped on them. The ones described aren't big, only about 2-by-3 inches, but the survey was brief and I wouldn't be surprised if Pern's flatlands had much larger examples of the fuckers, evolved for a role as stealth predators rather than animalistic sundews.

By the end of that first 50 year Pass Pern's landmasses would have been wiped mostly clear of most of it's species. A serious mass extinction event. But, this would be coupled with a serious uptick regarding aquatic and semi-aquatic species. Pern's oceans and waterways must be astounding, and any species who evolved to turn to the water for protection would have found themselves suddenly among the most successful on the planet.

Everything that survived would have been those species most capable of surviving or recovering from Fall, and the representatives of those species that most strongly presented those successful traits. These would have been the species- plant, animal, bug, whatever- that reproduced. Over the next 200 years there would have been some diversifying, some adapting genetically, and then the next Pass would have hit. Anything that moved away from those survival traits would get fucked, those that doubled down would survive, wash, rinse, repeat 200 times.

Would we be looking at new species? Yeah probably. If nothing else we'd have a lot of subspecies taking advantage of niches that opened up. Skybrooms probably had a smaller range before Thread started up, for instance, but once they turned out be The Most Threadproof Tree competition took a steep downturn.

By the time the colonists showed up Pernese plants would probably fall into three categories- 1) Threadproof- due to thick bark, Threadproof secretions, being dense as hell, etc; 2) Eternal- either the seeds are Threadproof and germinate under specific conditions leaving there always a new generation, or they're capable of springing back from sever die-back; 3) "Hold my beer"- make kudzu look like redwoods, probably adopted the mint when it came over

Pernese animals likely lean heavily towards semi-aquatics, amphibians, and cave-dwelling species most definitely, plus burrowing species, shelled species. You'd have more species than expected with secretions (again, if you can make Thread slide off or something, you'd be the hottest thing in town), and so much fucking psychic capability. Any species that had an inkling of psychic powers before? Is going to have spent 50 thousand years being harshly forced to select for it. Most non-aquatic species are also probably going to focus on making a lot of babies. Focusing on one or two at a time is probably going to be the domain of amphibians, cave-dwellers, and aquatics. Species that don't have to worry about "I put three years into that kid and the sky noodles ate them".

And as far as herbivores go? If you've got plantlife you're going to have something dedicated to eating it. They may not be big, they may not be grazers, but they will fucking be there.

#so i may have started poking at worlbuilding again #pern is prime for some interesting shit but it's never utilized #i kinda want big sundew fuckers now #give me the giant deathmat #a flat fuck the size of a dinner plate that'll make threadscore look like a papercut if you make the mistake of touching it's back #it camouflages in the foliage waiting for critters to walk over or land on it #it's lost the sticky secretions of it's smaller kin for it does not need them #it digests you quick enough it doesn't matter if you get away #it got plenty enough of you #''thread is the greatest threat to the pernese' false #thread is the *most blatant* threat to the pernese #the giant deathmat- which just sits there in wait- actually responsible for more deaths a year per cycle #pern analysis

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genspiel · 4 months

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"I said I was sorry," Damian said. His voice did that soft hurt thing, which annoyed her even more. [...] "So what?" she said. "That doesn't mean you get to circumvent me being pissed off at you. I was just too busy with other shit for the last year and a half."

#tre reads #homesick #before we disperse like star stuff #nino cipri #quotes #damian flores #min-ji hong

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

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Star Blazers: The Comet Empire Ep26 (2/2)

YouTube · asdf7893

Jan 1, 2007

It is true that Dan dies a different way and this is a different person and her son knows the person and knows who he is and it's Bob birdies and he is a giant and in the film not the comic strip cartoon he is a giant about 10 ft and everybody's small compared to him no they're about 8 ft but it certainly looks like he's in charge and the reason he takes over is through what my son is going to explain the secret of the comet empire ship and it's somewhat revealing

Thor Freya

Checks and balances exist within an army it could be that but this is one hell of a check when people think my family knew stuff and they may have I want you to fight over them because you're going to find out that the comet empire ships are extremely powerful against Stone chips and vice versa but we're known to have stone chips for a long time as a rumor and there are several that they investigated one of which the Martin Joe finds who stand and he examines it. If you look carefully at the empire ship the comet empire ship and I believe that's a roughly a 2000 I think there's only one in the Gulf and this one in the Hudson Bay I'm not sure where Bob bertie's area is and someone said its Hudson babe and it's a 500 and it does look on that size compared to ships and he says it's true and that's Mac. If you look at the configuration and I've seen it before in an electronics believe it or not but it's not electronics that you guys would use for this purpose and it is about this movie that's on which is Jacob's ladder and they called that in the clan because of the need to stop Stone chips which is what they thought we have and they said they had proof but it's not really something that you guys got information on. And there's a lot of people being murdered around this topic and people want to know and if you find out you get hit and nine times out of 10 it's a crime easily solved and it's one of your own. And we're working single murder on the move on a movie that is and the movie is Jacob's liner and someone poisoned someone to death and the administered something in a gas and he actually dies his brain is eating away quite rapidly and I've seen people chop people's heads off when poisoned with It but usually it's too late. And here it is in a nutshell there are huge huge what looks like buildings and their vertical and around the edges they're shorter as you go towards the center they are larger and larger on a 500 mi wide ship each of these buildings is about 10 miles wide and some are 5 mi wide depending on how they wanted it to be dispersed and they tested when you turn the Arc machine on the arc is powerful enough to destroy those places if you turn it on too high and you don't want to do that it can be projected without a laser it is a bit haphazard but it goes in the direction you're aiming it and you have to throw it out there and this way to use the machine to do that it's very very accurate even with just lightning but it is haphazard in getting there it's like one of those wizzy wag missiles and when you add the missile I mean the laser in the middle sorry of course it's a laser and it's doped or something and is very huge it's around 30 miles you get a gigantic plasma laser Arc weapon and it will sear through Stone in a millisecond it's 100 mi thick and hardened like the one Tommy F has and he didn't know about it and he thought The blasters would not do anything and I said they can be modified and they are on some of them any panicked and he's really going to panic now so you got to wonder if my clan new something or if they're fighting each other and simply went to the tomb because of that and a lot of people think that's why but I don't some people have the information and think we're doomed and they can't get to square one because they're fighting each other this post is going to ruin you and I'm doing it because of what you did to me tonight

Zues Hera

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lgbtqreads · 5 years

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Excerpt Reveal: Homesickby Nino Cipri

Today on the site I’m excited to welcome Nino Cipri, author of the brand-new Homesick, which just released from Dzanc Books on Tuesday! It’s a short story collection that spans speculative, sci-fi, fantasy, and horror, with all sorts of queer/trans rep, including queer, bisexual, lesbian, gay, transfeminine, transmasculine, nonbinary, and bigender. Here’s the official blurb:

Dark, irreverent,…

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#Before We Disperse Like Star Stuff #bisexual #Dzanc Books #Homesick #Korean American #Lakota #Latinx #Nino Cipri #Non-Binary #novella #Queer #Transgender #Transmasculine

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

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It’s so Raw, it’s Still Swimming

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Revenge is a dish best served cold—that’s why Jamil fully intends to serve up something truly dastardly to Azul. Unfortunately, good boi Deuce and Chef Gordon Ramsay have far more pure intentions in mind, and they plan to drag Jamil along with them on the path of righteousness! I’m sorry, I just wanted to clown on Jamil--

Imagine this...

An octopus cut through the water.

Its eight legs operate in a most peculiar way, each moving of their own accord, but in unison--like an orchestra of different instruments, each playing its own part in the group. Together, they push, threading the octopus between the waves, the notes of a hushed song.

The world is at peace, and the octopus, free.

Just for that moment.

A shadow darted by. Then another, leaving a trail of bubbles in their wake. A flash of scales, some silver, and some serpentine.

The octopus picked up its pace, hoping to propel itself to a safe cubby at the bottom of the sea. Frantic, its slitted eyes flickered in all directions. The danger—where was it coming from?

“Boo.”

The octopus squirted hard. At once, a black cloud filled the area. A smokescreen for its escape. Working its legs as hard as it could, the octopus torpedoed through the curtain of ink—but its trick could only work for so long.

The color quickly dispersed through the water, ink streaks diffusing into sheer ribbons, and then into nothing. It was open, all of its vulnerable bits exposed.

“It’s getting away!” someone called, his voice rippling, reverberating. He sported a tail like that of a mackerel, green-blue with vertical stripes up top, a silver underbelly, and a deeply forked fin—and a spade painted over his right eye.

“Not on my watch,” hissed his partner, a merman with dark, flowing hair and a venomous smirk. He launched himself after the octopus, propelled by a tail which slithered like a snake, plated and striped in in black and white scales. The boy thrusted an arm out for his prey—

—but octopus evaded him, slipping away from his grasp at the last possible second. He cursed under his breath. “Too fast...!!”

“If it’s speed you need, then leave it to me!” The merman in a spade offered. “I’ll block it off, and you grab it when it’s still dazed!”

“Done. Now quickly, before it gets away!!”

The mackerel-tailed merman took off like lightning, practically beating himself as he swam. Faster, faster, like a bullet piercing the water.

The octopus was suddenly met with a hard wall, its squishy head slamming into a muscled chest. It glanced up, and saw only the sympathetic smile of the mackerel merman.

“Sorry,” Deuce apologized, “but we really need you for this. I promise we’ll make you really delicious as thanks for your sacrifice!”

Fingers closed around the octopus’s tentacles, trapping them in a strong grip. The poor creature was yanked from behind, tugged into the arms of a far less kind predator.

“Got you,” Jamil declared, staring down at the octopus with quiet, murderous intent burning in his eyes. “You’ll make for a fine dish.”

“We got a great catch today! Fish, shellfish, octopus, crabs... I can’t wait to see what kinds of stuff Prefect-san will instruct us to cook!”

“Mm.”

“Leech-senpai was right about it being faster to grab the seafood yourself instead of fishing. I’m glad we were able to loan some merman transmutation potions from Crewel-sensei.”

“Yes, that was useful.”

“It was kind of fun to wrangle our own fish. It reminds me of when my mom took me to the pet store to pick out which goldfish I liked best... but what I really wanted was a baby chick!”

“I see.”

“Do you think we’ll get to work with eggs? Or even with chicken?! I don’t know if I could take it if we had to cook a mama hen with her unborn babies...”

“Deuce.”

“Yes, Viper-senpai?”

Jamil came to a full stop, facing his underclassman with a deadly serious expression. “The chicken eggs which are sold in supermarkets are unfertilized. There were never any chicks in them to begin with.”

“Wh-Whaaat?!” Deuce’s jaw dropped, hanging wide open for several seconds. He managed to pull himself together (but not without some stumbling) to hurry after Jamil. “Y-You can’t be serious, right? I... I didn’t live my whole life living a lie, right?!”

“You did.”

“HUUUUUUH?!”

Jamil’s movements and words were efficient and deliberate. He was here to learn, not to make friends--so he spoke with a straight face and an indoor volume, as opposed to Deuce, whose voice was hoarse with each thing he shouted.

“No more time wasting. Let’s get down to business,” Jamil suggested with a quick click of his tongue, “to fillet the fish.”

“B-But the eggs... The eggs...” Deuce protested faintly. His complex was pale, as though he had just had all of the life force sucked out of him.

“Forget the eggs. We’re here today for reve... er, I mean...” Jamil cleared his throat. “For the fish. Let’s use the catches we have while they’re still at their peak freshness.”

“Use them at their peak freshness...” Deuce perked up. “I get it, Viper-senpai! If we do that... then it would showing proper respect to the ingredients! It would make the baby chicks happy!”

I already told you, you fool... There ARE no baby chicks!

“Yes, that.”

“Got it! I’ll do my best!”

They both reached for their respective knife blocks.

“Hold it!!”

The boys whirled in the direction of the booming voice--and there, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, was Gordon Ramsay in his chef uniform, broad arms folded across his chest. He stormed toward them, his expression difficult to read.

“Good morning, chef!” Deuce called, snapping into a bow. “We just got back from grabbing some ingredients! Please teach us well today, too!”

He was greeted with a hard smack on the back and a bark. “Excellent. Look sharp! I’m expecting great things of you, darling.”

“YESSIR!!”

Gordon nodded in approval, letting Deuce proceed with descaling his mackerel--then his gaze trailed to Jamil, and he frowned. “And what in God’s name are you doing, wearing your hair like that?”

“My hair?” Jamil matched Gordon’s frown with one of his own. “I have always worn my hair this way, chef. Do you take issue with it?”

“You’re bloody right I do. You’re as skilled of a chef as any of them.” He made a vague gesture at the ghosts toiling away at their stoves. “So what are you fucking doing, waltzing in with your hair loose? You’re about to have your head snare or catch fire!!”

“I assure you, I have enough experience to know how to avoid getting into danger. You need not concern yourself with...”

“YOU TIE ALL OF THAT FUCKING HAIR BACK NOW, OR YOU’RE OUT OF THIS KITCHEN.”

Jamil took a step back, reeling from Gordon’s explosive reaction. But as demure has he may have looked from the outside, Jamil was seething on the inside.

Tsk. I signed up for this fish-themed Master Chef for one reason, and one reason only... Not to expand my repertoire of recipes, not to gain advanced knowledge... BUT TO EXACT MY REVENGE ON OCTAVINELLE!! ... But of course, I can’t just say that out loud.

Everything was going so well for me until THEY showed up... I’ll show that stuck-up Azul and that annoying Floyd what for by cramming their insolent mouths full of their brethren. I hope those two like the taste of octopus and eel. If only Jade were also a judge, so I could get back at him for luring Kalim away and interrogating him for information...

How dare this no-name transfer student from another world not only meddle in my winter break plans, but continue to get in my way to this very day... Curse you, Gordon Ramsay!! CURSE YOU!!

“................................ I understand, chef,” Jamil announced, sighing as he undid his hair tie. “I will do as you say. After all, I wouldn’t want to miss out on gaining our valuable wisdom.”

“Good.”

Jamil kept his head down as he scraped up every last strand of hair--including his bangs--into a tight bun. He secured it with his hair tie and chef’s hat, well aware that his every move was being monitored by Gordon. “... There. Is this sufficient?”

“It’ll do,” he replied gruffly.

“Then please excuse me. I will need to get started on a dish for you. I hope that octopus carpaccio is to your liking.” With a curt bow, Jamil vanished to his workstation.

“... Octopus? That’s not meant to be on the menu.”

“Oh, consider it a little surprise for you, as well as for the judges,” Jamil said mysteriously.

Gordon stared at him, giving the stink eye. “Make me horse mackerel fritters first.”

“... As you wish.” Jamil drew his knife--and, bringing it back, expertly slashed at a fish, flaying it open with a single cut. “Please be patient. I will serve you a meal that is to die for.”

Gordon tensed. “... Jamil. What is cooking to you?”

“Cooking?” The Scarabia student scoffed. “Cooking is cooking. It is a means with which we take ingredients and make them more palatable to ourselves. We combine foods and prepare them in various ways. That is cooking.”

“That’s it, then? That’s all cooking is to you? A job? A task?!” Gordon’s voice revved up like an angry engine. “You are bloody dense for someone who thinks he’s so great and grand at it!!”

“... Are you suggesting, then, that Deuce is more skilled of a chef than I?” Jamil cocked his head in the direction of his junior, who was breaking off premade cubes of curry into a large stew pot. “Someone who can’t season something to save his life?”

There was a bite to his words, a venom lacing them.

As expected of a viper.

“Now don’t you put words in my mouth,” Gordon hissed through his teeth. “You’re a talented cook, I’ll give you that. But you aren’t a chef.”

Jamil’s knife froze. He looked up from his mackerel, a cold look set to his eyes. “... What do you mean?”

“Being a chef means looking at cooking as something more than just meal prep. When we cook, we use all of our senses. With these--” Gordon extended his fingers. “--we touch.

“With this--” He pointed to his tongue. “--we taste.

“And with this--” Gordon slammed a fist over his heart. “--we feel. Cooking infuses a piece of ourselves into each and every dish. It’s a way of sharing our souls with the people who eat our food. That is what separates a cook from a chef.”

He glanced over to Deuce (who was now staring into his curry with a serious expression). “The lad’s putting forth an honest effort. Can you say the same for yourself and your goals in this course?”

Gordon’s passion was raw and real, cleaving away at Jamil’s defenses. A knife slicing away at his scales, leaving him a defenseless mackerel.

“............................... Hmph. I want to increase my own knowledge of seafood preparation. That is all.”

Uncanny. His powers of perception are absolutely uncanny. I had better watch out for him--not just now, but in the future as well.

“You will taste the proof in the pudding when the fritters are done,” Jamil said at last. Steady, even. Unassuming.

“... Right, then. Show me your best.”

“How’re we doing over here, love?” Gordon asked, standing at attention before Deuce’s station.

The Heartslabuyul student beamed, cheeks ruddy from basking in the rich, warm steam wafting up from his boiling pot. He had just tossed in large chunks of chopped mackerel, which were slowly drowning in a swamp of curry like sinking ships.

“I think I’m really starting to get the hang of this!” Deuce smiled, looking proud of himself. “Oh, how’s Viper-senpai doing? I’ll bet he’s already done and earned 10 from every judge, huh?”

“Don’t you worry about him, worry about yourself.” He sniffed at the curry, his nose wrinkling. “You didn’t add anything extra to this?”

“Huh? Was I supposed to?” Deuce offered an empty cardboard container. “But the directions on this said to just toss the blocks into some stock and let it simmer for a few minutes.”

“That’s just the base. How are you going to make this your own take if you do it all by the book? If you’re not going to make your own sauce, at least throw in some vegetables or spices! You’ve got a whole pantry and spice cabinet waiting for you!”

“That’s... That’s allowed? But my dorm leader said...”

“Do you see your dorm leader around here? No? Then you can do whatever you like.”

“Oh, I see!!” Deuce jolted, his back straightening. “I’ll... I’ll figure something out!”

Gordom smiled warmly. “You always do.”

The first year produced a rack of bottles from a cabinet. He reached for one, hesitated, then seized it with all his might. Deuce gave a battle cry as he indiscriminately started popping off caps and chucking whatever felt right into his concoction.

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

“That’s the spirit!!”

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“THAT’S IT!!!”

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

(“... So noisy,” Jamil muttered from his side of the kitchen.)

“Mmm!” Gordon took another whiff of the curry, a new wave of spices punching him in the face. “That’s smelling fantastic.”

“R-Really?! Thank goodness...” Deuce sighed in relief as he placed a lid over his pot. Steam immediately condensed, clouding the lid. “Cooking’s always something I wanted to pick up. I didn’t know it could be so free-form.”

“I take it you haven’t done much cooking before?”

“Kind of, sort of? My mom does most of it, since I’d always be busy with... uh... school. Yeah, school!” His laugh was a bit forced. “But since I’m the man of the house, I’ve gotta step up and do some of the cooking! I can’t always have my mom doing it for me.

“I read somewhere that seafood is healthy. Specifically, that mackerel helps lower blood pressure... and my mom’s under a lot of stress, being a single parent and all. I want to do what I can to help her.”

A fire burned within Deuce’s eyes, bringing a smile to Gordon’s worn face. He could see pieces of himself in the youth. The love for his mother, the passion, the drive, the willingness to learn and to improve.

“... Right. As the man of the house, you’ve got to look after your mum,” he muttered, gently parting his friend on the shoulder. “You’ve found your center. Now you’ve got to stick to your guns, because it’s only going to get harder from here on out.”

“Bring it on!!” Deuce challenged with a wicked grin. He formed a fist with one hand and smashed it against an open palm. “I’m willing to go the distance!”

“You are, are you?”

“YESSIR!! Even when onions make me cry, or tomato juice squirts onto my face, or I break unfertilized eggs in my fists... I’ll do whatever you ask of me!!”

“... No fucking clue where you pulled that unfertilized egg comment from, mate, but I’ll take it as a sign of good faith. If you’re really that jazzed up for it, I can show you some more advanced cutting techniques.”

“Advanced cutting techniques?!” Deuce jumped like an eager puppy. “You think I’m ready for it?!”

“You said you were willing to go the distance, didn’t you? Here’s me showing you the distance.”

Smirking, Gordon retrieved his own knife from its block. He wielded it with grace and precision—not unlike a trained warrior, seasoned with years of experience, forged in the fires of the kitchen and carved in battle scars.

Raw power and determination coursing through every fiber of his being.

Deuce looked on in awe, his jaw hanging agape.

“As swift as a coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon... with all the strength of a raging fire, and mysterious as the dark side of the moon.” Gordon exhaled sharply through his nostrils. “If you are prepared, then come!! I’ll make a Master Chef out of you...!!”

“YESSIR!! PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME, CHEF!!”

(“... There truly is no peace to be found around here,” Jamil grumbled.)

#twst #twisted wonderland #Jamil Viper #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Deuce Spade #Gordon Ramsay #disney twisted wonderland #something no one asked for #imagine this #spoilers #SWEET SWEET REVENGE AND JUSTICE FOR JAMIL #Gordon Ramsay in Twisted Wonderland

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reidsnose · 3 years

Text

buggin

overview: reader enlists the help of her neighbor (who shes never met) to get rid of a gnarly bug in her apartment

genre: fluff

a/n: thought of this today after i moved the shower curtain, saw a centipede crawl out, and screamed for my dad to come help me. anywayyyss i thought its be cute so as always lmk what you guys think :)

masterlist

you walked into your bedroom, fumbling frantically with the buttons on your shirt as you raced to leave your house on time. hair brush hair brush hair brush. where was your hair brush? you knocked over countless items trying to find it but with no luck. bathroom! you quickly made your way to the bathroom, opening the door so fast that wind blew through your hair.

and then you saw it.

a gnarly, long, nasty, creepy crawly centipede.

you let out a loud shriek and promptly shut the door. if you didn't get to the interview one time, it would surely be a bad first impression. but then again so would showing up with a bird's nest of hair on your head. you tried who knows how many times to go back in and kill it or catch it in a cup but each time you saw its countless, spindly legs you backed out. you checked your watch, 10 minutes until you had to leave.

you walked out into the hallway of the apartment building, and in a frenzy, you bumped into a tall, handsome man leaving the apartment across from yours.

he chuckled an apology before looking to meet your eye, breath hitching in his throat as he did. you were arguably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen (despite a very questionable hairdo). and when a surge of desperation ran through your body you rambled an explanation to the stranger, telling him about your job interview and time crunch then promptly begging him to come inside and get rid of the centipede for you.

and something inside him couldn't say no. he wanted to, i mean when an objectively crazy looking person lures you into their home to catch a bug, generally one says no and goes on with their day. however, maybe it was his complete an immediate infatuation with you or maybe his empathy for your situation, he decided to quickly help you and then try and get to work as fast as he can.

he couldn't help but subtly and subconsciously profile you based on your home as soon as he stepped inside. he liked it. your decorations, the small mess that makes it feel lived in, the general 'vibe' as morgan would say was incredible.

you gave him a sheet of paper and a cup, per his request, and led him to the dreaded bug bathroom. you couldn't help but watch in awe as he walked in with no fear, explaining to you in great detail how this was only a house centipede and it only had 15 pairs of legs which kind of counters the name. and how it isn't poisonous to humans and infact eats other bugs. you loved his facts so much and you followed him all the way to the window where he let the bug out, listening intently to what he had to say and swatting away the apology that came after the ramble, insisting that you genuinely enjoyed it.

"thank you so much,.." you trailed off, not knowing his name.

"Spencer." he filled in, offering a tight lipped smile.

"Spencer! wonderful. well again thank you so much and i owe you once I'm back from this job interview!" you smiled as you both walked to the door.

"oh you don't have to-" he began.

"no i insist! just knock on my door when you can and ill take you out." you stated, causing his eyes to widen, " not with a gun! i meant like ill buy you coffee or something!"

"i didn't think you meant with a gun?!" he laughed, handing you the hairbrush this whole ordeal was about. you laughed along as you closed and locked your apartment.

"I'm sorry i'm like completely fazzled right now! i have to go or else i'm never gonna get this job ill just brush my hair in the car! ok bye Spencer!" you called as you jogged down the stairs.

"wait i don't know your name?" he called after you.

"ill tell you when i buy you a coffee!" your giggle echoed through the building followed by the loud shut of the downstairs door.

he smiled to himself, wondering if he should tell the team about his funky morning encounter. he smiled the whole train ride to work, and then the walk from the stop to the building and then the elevator trip up. he just couldn't stop smiling. he thought about you brushing your hair while you drove and even giggled to himself on the train causing a few strangers to toss him some concerned looks.

how could he be living next to such a beautiful stranger?

when he walked into the bullpen, he saw the. whole team huddled around a desk, staring quite obviously at hotch's office. a new curiosity piqued his interest though his thoughts of you continued to be front and center in his mind.

"whats going on?" he asked, joining the group and craning his neck to try and see into the office.

"new agent interview." jj whispered.

"really? since whe-"

"shh!" Garcia shushed.

"you cant even hear them!" Reid defended.

"quiet helps us read their lips." prentiss whispered.

Spencer continued to crane his neck, moving around yet only being able to see hotch, who was throwing his head back in laughter. hotch laughing? wow this new agent must be pretty cool!

"oh my god! i've never seen him laugh like that before!" Garcia squeaked.

"she has to get the job now," morgan added.

"ah we have to wait for the handshake, thats when we see if he really approves," Rossi countered, "if he double hands the shake then its a done deal."

they all watched excitedly, waiting impatiently for the end of the interview. after a few minutes they saw hotch stand up and shake the possible new agent's hand with his right, firmly clasping his left over the handshake.

"was that the double handed handshake?" Garcia asked excitedly.

"yup." Rossi replied, popping the p.

as soon as the door began to open, the team tried ever so gracelessly to disperse, bumping into one another and murmuring fake excuses. a familiar outfit caught Spencer's eye as the new agent left hotch's office and he dared sneak a glance.

no way. his mind raced, thoughts of this morning flooding it a mile a minute. could it really be the girl from this morning? he watched as you excitedly left the building, beaming far to much to notice any other people as you left.

"bug?!" was all he could muster. not even loud enough for you to hear. unfortunately, loud enough for the people around him to.

"theres a bug? where?" morgan asked, looking around.

"no um...bug-she..is bug- um. nothing." he stammered.

"did you nickname the new agent bug?" jj laughed.

"what? no! do not say that in front of her!!" Spencer stammered.

after a couple teasing remarks, to Spencer's relief, they seemed to have let it go. the day was case-less and flew by quickly, the most exciting part was the morning interview and hotch's announcement that there would be a new agent starting tomorrow.

you sat at home, beyond excited about your successful interview, all thanks to handsome neighbor Spencer. you couldn't help but feel extra indebted to him. you feared you may have scared him off when you offered to take him out but it was the best way you could think to say thank you. but your nerves had transferred mainly to the upcoming first day of work.

as he got hone he debated knocking on your door but decided against it, knowing you were probably busy preparing for tomorrow.

when you arrived tomorrow a series of seemingly unfamiliar faces sat in the conference room, awaiting you and hotch.

when you stepped inside your eyes scanned over each of them, all looking very excited to meet you.

and then you saw him.

handsome neighbor Spencer was sitting RIGHT THERE. the stars have aligned and finally life is in your favor. after a brief introduction the meeting began and you took the only seat open which happened to be next to Spencer.

you gave each other polite smiles though both of your cheeks glowing red told a different story than two people who had just met.

"wheels up in 20." hotch concluded.

you all walked out together, the team making sure you felt included.

"so hows the first day feeling, y/n? or should i be like my friend Dr. Reid here and call you bug?" morgan asked slightly amused.

"oh my god you told?!" you laughed, looking wide eyed at Spencer.

after a high pitched denial from Reid and tears of laughter from the team as you told them of the events of that morning, you already felt like you were a part of the team.

as you boarded the jet, you decided to sit next to Spencer.

"you know, i still owe you a coffee," you mentioned nonchalantly as you pulled a book from your go bag, trying as hard as you possibly could to not blush.

he smiled slyly, picking up his own book to hide the rouge that fell upon his cheeks, "and ill hold you to that, bug."

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @hey-there-angels @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic @b-a-utiful @aperrywilliams @eevee0722

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spinningintheshadows · 3 years

Text

Marry Me || R.P.

In which Rudy asks the most important question he will ever ask in his life.

Warnings: cavity inducing fluff ahead.

Words: 1711

taglist: @maybankforlife @cherrybarzy @lindzaylove @teelagurl558@pogueslandia @hannahnikohl

Standing in your classroom filled with parents and children alike was bittersweet to you. It was the end of your third year teaching kindergarten at this school, and today was your last ever Friday here. You’d turned in your resignation six weeks ago, before your mom had died and your life got chaotic, but you still felt like you needed a change of scenery and had been offered a position in Charleston close to your brother. Every Friday for the last three years, you’d done a “fun Friday” which was a craft or activity in the afternoon where you encouraged parents to come and play an active role in their child’s education. Since today was the last one, you were amazed by the turn out. You stood in front of the classroom with parents and kids looking at you for instruction.

“Good afternoon everyone. As you probably know, I’m Ms. Stokes and I have had the honor to be your children’s teacher for the last school year. As you know every Friday I have encouraged you parents to be an active part of your child’s education by participating in Fun Friday. It’s bittersweet to me that this is my last one. School ends on Wednesday, which means I only have two more days with your children as I won’t be here Monday for an appointment. I have loved having your children as part of my final kindergarten class at this elementary school. We have a great crowd today but late last night I was informed of some extra helpers today. Parents, you might recognize them as the stars of the show Outer Banks on Netflix, but to me they’re just my brother, sister in law to be, one of my best friends, and boyfriend. Let me introduce you to them. Chase Stokes, Madelyn Cline, Drew Starkey and Rudy Pankow” you said, waving the four into your room. You continued to give instructions on the cornstarch and conditioner playdough you were making today, and parents got to work with their kids while your brother and friends looked at you expectedly.

“Okay so Chase and Maddie, the little redhead girl. Her name is Mila, her grandparents are raising her and they don’t get around too well so they hardly make it. Drew, the blonde girl with pigtails, her name is Lilly, her mom works overnights and doesn’t usually make it and Ru, the little blonde boy with glasses. That’s Xander. His parents work two jobs and haven’t made it at all year. I usually help him but I think since y’all are here I’m just gonna supervise.

You watched as the four dispersed and walked back over to your desk to watch while you labeled the baggies for the kids to put their playdough in when they were done. One by one they finished up and their parents started signing the early dismissal sheet until it was time for school to end. You got your remaining three students on the bus and returned to your classroom to find your brother and Maddie wiping down desks with Clorox wipes while Rudy and Drew were picking up trash.

“You didn’t have to do that” you told them with a soft smile on your face.

“Nonsense. You have a trip to get ready for this weekend. I’m almost sure you’re not packed yet.” Chase said. “Rudy told me you were going to New York with him.”

“Hey, Y/N, what did you mean when you said final kindergarten class?” Maddie asked.

“Oh. Thursday is my last day employed here. I was gonna tell you when I came down next weekend. I’ve been offered and accepted a position at Drayton Hall Elementary in Charleston.” You told them. “Felt like I needed to be closer to my family.”

Rudy knew being close to your brother was important which was why he'd been secretly looking at houses in Charleston, finally finding one last week that he thought you would love and placing an offer. He hadn't told you yet but was planning on it this weekend. He watched you grab your stuff and held his hand out for you to take, smiling when you did.

When you were finally in his rental car that evening headed to New York, he posed the question to you.

“How do you feel about moving in together?” He asked, making you raise an eyebrow at him. “In Charleston, obviously.”

“You’d give up your apartment for me?” You questioned.

“Well my lease is up in a couple months anyway, and I may have been house hunting the last couple weeks.” he said. “I found a nice house close to your brother. It’s got five bedrooms, when I know is a lot but I thought maybe we’d turn a couple of them into guest rooms, maybe an office, maybe we’ll have a kid or something.”

“A kid or something?” you laughed. “You trying to get me pregnant, Pankow?”

“I mean like, in the future. Maybe within the next five years, I’d personally like to be a dad before I’m thirty.” he said. “But I want kids with you, Y/N. I put an offer in on this house without knowing how you’d feel about moving to Charleston, only to find out you’re planning on moving there within the next couple months anyway.”

“Tell me more about the house.” you told him. “Really sell it to me.”

“The outside is like this stone blue color. It’s got a really fancy front porch which you’ll enjoy your coffee on during the summers and we can sit outside at night whenever you want. It’s spacious, most of the walls are white but that doesn’t mean we can’t paint them. Hardwood floors, gated community, pool, oh there's an elevator. It’s in a good school district, your school is in it. It was the first house I walked into and felt like it could be our home” he said. “You really have to see it.”

“And how does my brother feel about this house?” You joked. You could see him roll his eyes at the comment.

“Your brother is actually the one who brought it to my attention, Y/N. He and Maddie looked at it before they bought their house. This house has been sitting on the market, and I fell in love with it.” he told you.

“Okay. Then I trust you. If you think this is our house, then it’s our house.” you told him.

By the time you reached your hotel, you were exhausted from your work day and the drive and starving. Your reservation was tomorrow at 7, after Rudy’s photoshoot, so you planned to do shopping while he was doing that. You’d both decided that takeout was the way to go tonight though, and were currently sitting in the middle of the floor of your hotel room eating. He was telling you some story about when he’d went home to see his family and you couldn’t help but smile at him. You’d truly never felt happier in your life.

The next evening, you were zipping up your dress when he came into the room dressed and looked you up and down, as he normally did. You turned to look at him and did a once over on him yourself.

“Well, don’t you look spiffy.” you told him. “The suspenders are a nice touch.”

“Know you can’t resist me in them.” he laughed, pulling you to him and pressing his lips to yours. “You look gorgeous, pretty girl.”

“Thank you, I just bought the dress today. Told the lady at the shop we were celebrating our anniversary today and she helped me pick it out.” you told him. In truth, your anniversary was actually two weeks ago, but you couldn’t help yourself today.

“Smart girl, you are. Ready?” he said. You nodded, letting him lead you out of the hotel and the four blocks to the restaurant because you decided it would be faster to walk than to fight NYC traffic. It was a nice night, so he made sure your reservation was on the patio of the restaurant.

Dinner went smoothly, with you both discussing your summer plans. Moving, filming, and you working a summer job to pay for things for your new classroom. Rudy was happy he wasn’t going to have to travel to film this season of Outer Banks, and you were looking forward to getting to be on set with him this year. Finally, you ordered your desserts and he kept staring at you.

“What is wrong with you all of a sudden?” You asked.

“Can I ask you something?” he said. Before you could answer him, he was out of his seat and in front of you. On one knee. You suddenly felt like your chest was going to explode. This was not what you were expecting.

“I uh, I had this whole speech prepared, I rehearsed it with your brother and now it’s just gone but the point of it was this. I love you. I’m never going to stop loving you. I’ve loved you for four years, I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. I’d just really like it if for the rest of my life, I got to call you my wife. What I’m trying to say, excuse my dumbassery, is will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and marry me, Y/N?” he asked. Tears welled in your eyes as you let out a watery laugh and looked at him.

“Yes, you idiot, now get off the floor and kiss me.” you told him. He complied, sliding the ring on your finger and kissing you with everything he had.

The whole way back to the hotel you were all over each other, not giving a single fuck about who saw you in public. When you got back to your suite, you looked at him with a goofy smile on your face.

“Hey Ru?” you practically hummed.

“Yeah pretty girl?” he answered.

“I think you should take me to bed and fuck as your fiancee for the first time.” you told him.

He just grinned, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. There wasn’t much sleep that night.

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow fic #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #big brother!chase x reader #chase stokes #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #older brother!chase stokes

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

Home

this all takes place in my poly frontier universe

pairing: triple frontier guys - Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco (Frankie) “Catfish” Morales, and Ben “Benny” Miller x (f) reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: obviously a poly relationship, which includes kissing, domestic intimacy with all of them (not just with the reader, but not in-between Will and Ben because nope), mild sexual themes

summary: scenes at the beginning of making a house with five people feel like home

The manicured grass is soft where it peaked around the edges of your sandals. Hands running over the grooves of they key in your pocket, you gaze around the little front yard, mind conjuring daydreams that fit on the weathered porch of the house.

Two bathrooms will be enough right? Your thoughts are running - creating and erasing images of the future, trying to squish them like magic into the home in front of you. The yard is big enough to extend the garage and for plenty of home projects…

Across the fence and a long stretch of field, a woman is hiking her skirts up, making a beeline for you. The neighbor’s house is a considerable distance away, being out in the countryside, but she must have been watching your tour from her garden with interest.

The others had left moments before, Santi promising to come back whenever you were done. After weeks of looking at houses, it became a little ritual of yours, to spend a few minutes looking around without the clutter of wonderful distractions.

“So which one of those strapping young men is your beau?” She asks conspiringly, eyes gleaming. It catches you off guard – the lack of introduction, but she seems harmless enough.

Your smile is equally mischievous, and your head tilts a hair.

“Well, which one do you think?”

The woman considers, boot tip tapping away at her grass. You replay the moments she could’ve seen, which were few, wondering if you’d leaned in any particular direction, and wait.

“Now that I think about it, I haven’t got a clue,” her smile is wide, softer and more genuine than before - polite. “As long as you’re good neighbors,” she explains, “I guess I wouldn’t care if it was one or all of you next door.”

You smile, thanking her as salutations ring in your ears, watching with grateful eyes as she hikes back towards her home. Then you move, wandering through the empty rooms for long, quite minutes before you peak over the fence again. The woman had gone inside, and if you squint you can see who you think is her husband, sleeping with a dog on the porch.

In the other directions, there isn’t a house within a reasonable distance. A knot loosens in your chest, as an unexpected feeling of freedom from judging eyes blooms in its place.

When Santi comes back to pick you up, you take his hand across the console. His skin is warm, and his thumb automatically begins to gently move across your knuckles.

“I think it’s perfect, Pope.”

He looks at you curiously, minding his thoughts for a moment.

“Yeah, love?”

The sun was beginning to set, and you look at the peaceful little home in the rear view mirror, and smile.

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“We need to … break in every room.”

“I’m just saying -"

“Oh he’s talking about – wait are you really horny, right now?”

“There are boxes everywhere, idiot.”

You walk in carrying a single plant and a stack of pizzas and the conversation hushes.

“Ah – payment,” Frankie kisses your cheek, moving the plant by the window as Santi clears the table.

Someone makes a quip about it being Santi’s house and you wince, the utopia popping.

“We don’t get paid to move our own stuff, Catfish.” His dark hair is damp with sweat but he seems otherwise unaffected by the hours spent hauling. It was still surreal – that this is actually happening, that this unanimously became a long term desire.

He has the most money and Will has the best credit score, so they bought the house to save you all from questions. The movement isn’t lost on your Ironhead, and he rubs a soothing circle on your shoulder as he reaches for a plate. Of everyone, he was the one who most understood your anxiety – close proximity always led to arguments at first.

“You got lucky,” Benny takes the first slice, accepting a napkin for an additional piece. “You fell in love with a pretty good moving crew.”

“I think so,” you grin, trying to ignore your anxiety. He inhales the food, pulling you into his lap as he bickers with Will about whether or not more needed to get done today.

Eventually Frankie dictates that at the very least some cleaning should be started and the bedding should be unpacked for the evening. The agree with varying degrees of enthusiasm and after a handful of innuendos your loves begin to disperse, too dutiful to let work go unfinished. The bedframe practically builds itself, and a portable speaker makes Santi’s hips twitch as he floats through the half-barren rooms.

When Will rolls his eyes at Frankie’s choice of screw, you duck away, nerves thrumming.

And you wander around, fake cleaning, until you find your Benny clearing pizza plates. Even amongst boxes and bins and old blankets, he could be at a photo shoot. The evening light make his hair look like silk, and his eyes shine like he’s making you promises this very moment.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” he says, drawing you into his arms as your head tilts. “We spent years in bunks and tents, and we were younger then.”

His chest was warm and you press your cheek to it, nodding. You hadn’t thought he had noticed, how anxious you’d been about the change, but you had been foolish. Even through his shirt, you can feel the thumping of his giant heart, steady as a drumbeat.

Replaying the evening in your mind, you let go of some of your worries, one by one, and he kisses the top of your head. It’s a thoughtful thing, and it never ceases to amaze you how easily he can wrap you around his finger.

“Ben?”

He makes a noise, somewhere between a hum and a grunt.

You pull his face down to yours, kissing him hard. It was a kiss that says you're grateful, and a kiss that says you love him for being… him.

He accepts it eagerly, and tiredness from the day long gone ad he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your lips. The world spins and you feel him shove something heavy off the couch before replacing it with you.

The cushions are dusty from everything but he makes space, and you stop caring as he moves on top of you.

The others would find you soon, their instincts kicking in, but you savor it. Benny, pressing into you, kissing you in the evening light.

The beginning of their conversation from earlier blooms in your mind and you grin as his lips trailed down your neck. It suddenly didn’t seem implausible that he planned this.

“Breaking in” aside, this was the first room you where you truly felt like this could be home.

You feel his hands gently replace yours on the zipper and you jump a little - he stands just outside the mirror reflection as you watch the skirts around your ankles. Behind you the big bed is made neatly, there’s a ridiculously large closet, and a tangle of phone chargers.

The bedroom: the place that set apart your home from others. The room that housed five individuals, a web of relationships, a miracle of mixed bodies and minds and hearts.

It looks big, behind you.

Warm, daft fingers tie the extra strings, a neat little bow hanging just between your shoulder blades. The silence is thick, weighted with adoration, but when he breaks it, it’s as if he can’t resist.

“You’re beautiful,” he moves closer, kissing your temple and drinking you in. Turning, your heart aches.

Will is in his dress uniform, crisscrossed with crisp lines and newly shined awards. His hair is lighter after the summer, and he tried to comb it neatly to one side. Compliments catch in your throat as you stare and he smiles, turning you gently so he can kiss you properly. His mouth tastes like mint and you can smell hints of his cologne lingering on his skin.

“Look at you,” you murmur, lips still brushing over his. Letting your hands wander over his face, smoothing his eyebrows, you feel almost in awe of him. Still, he flushes, pleased at your reaction.

“Thank you.”

His chuckle is warm, almost raspy as he tries to enjoy the quietness of your conversation, and he shakes his head. Really, you were sure he was thankful that he was been the only one free for your special evening.

“Thank you,” you correct him. “You didn’t have to do any of this.” The dinner, for your job.

In the mirror, he looked like diamonds and sapphires and gold. Will was like an action figure sometimes, solid and sculpted and stoic, but… he was looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

It made you blink, his eyes sliding over you, pupils just a little more blown than the lighting required - a gentle reset demanding your attention.

Looking back in the mirror for a moment, the room didn’t seem quite as big, or quite as revealing. It was comforting, how out of place the two of you looked, dressed to the nines because… this was your place. The softness surrounded by details perfectly woven into your life.

Turning, you slip your arms around his neck, gently musing his hair, and his eyebrows draw together, accepting, but confused.

And as you tuck your hand into his elbow and step into your heels, you resist the urge to thank him again.

“I like it better like this,” you admit, and he flushes again, beaming. Looking around, you realize you’re actually looking forward to coming home more than you’re excited to leave. It’s a new feeling, in this space with the four of them and it hits you, hard in your chest. Still, the man beside you is unwavering and you let the feeling consume you, knowing that you’re safe.

“Frankie, what is that?”

He flinches, nervousness cutting the excitement on his face.

“Rhetorical question,” Santi says, grinning at you. “He got it from a friend who was going to toss it out.”

It’s a hot tub, taking up a decent chunk of your back porch.

“If anyone can make it work like a dream, it’s Catfish.” Will’s tone is matter-of-fact, all honesty and pride.

Your sweet Francisco drops his tool and grabs your hand, his dark eyes big. “¿Cariño, por favor? From me, to you?” You can see his laptop up, replacement parts on saved tabs, and you tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He likes to have projects, needs to have somewhere to do things, fix things, create things. Maybe at one point it was because he liked the distraction, it was a … replacement coping mechanism, if you will, but it became his pride, to use his hands to improve your lives.

It doesn’t take long, two weeks at most, between his job and his loves, and his long list of honey-dos, but he does it.

“Please and thank you,” you say, and when he kisses you, slow and deep and happy, you hear cheers and high-five and you almost can’t kiss him because he’s smiling.

And it takes awhile to fill, (Will thanking the stars that the water bill is reasonable,) and even longer to heat, and then it’s ready. The boys yank on swim trunks, thanking Frankie with enthusiasm, and you watch them sink into the steaming tub with as they sigh.

You have a bathing suit, of course you do, but you pull on one of his work shirts, knowing he won’t mind the chemicals from the water making the stains blur. And you pair of shorts you caught him watching your butt in, thinking of acknowledging his hard work in your own way.

The volume of your bodies makes it overflow, hot water sloshing onto the ground, but it’s bliss. It’s big, and they shout over the bubbles, talking excitedly about the future, and your heart feels warm in your favorite way.

The others leave early, taking loud laughter with them, and it leaves you and your Catfish. You let yourself float, moving right on top of him, and his hands grab at your hips, slipping and sliding over your skin as he kisses you once, twice. Slow.

It’s late – the stars stretch, there’s a bit of a breeze, and there’s not a light on for miles.

“You like it?” his voice is raspy, quiet, intense, but almost shy. Like if you said no it would break him in two.

“Of course I do, Frankie.” He looks pleased, hand absentmindedly running under his shirt and over your side. Even with the heat of the water, his hand feels like socks warmed in the dryer some cold winter morning. Comforting, maybe a little electric.

You let out a long, happy sigh, and settle against him, content to stay with him until you’re pruny.

“I think…. This is exactly what this house needed.” He starts a little, surprised, but it’s not an exaggeration.

There was always work to do and things to change, but it was the first time you looked out, and didn’t feel a twinge of fear, that anyone was looking in. It would’ve felt vulnerable, intimate to be so exposed, but… it was perfect, because he created it for you. Confidence and pride bubble around you, and Frankie’s eyebrows dip as he smiles – understanding.

“Yeah.” Its simple, not too hot, not too cold. Just… right.

It feels like… tar and lava, hot and dark and thick, bubbling and sticky and you want to punch something. Or scream, or cry.

Your Pope finds you standing rigid, smudges of flour on your skin and clothes, pans and spatulas strewn.

“Are we out of sugar?” To your credit, you try to keep your voice even, but he knows you better than that.

Santi shakes his head, plucking it from the pantry and looking guilty. Your mind pauses it’s rampage, and you wince, because you should be the one making that apologetic face, not him. Hot tears bubble in your eyes and you hate it, hate that they’re coming for what feels like no reason.

“Baby,” he says, tone pleading, setting the sugar down and reaching for you. The afternoon sun makes his eyes like rich, deep pots of gold, his hair somehow both soft and statuesque.

When he pauses, the tears fall against your will, just two thick drops down your cheeks. His hand encompasses your whole jaw, thumb gentle as it rubs away the saltwater, and he looks a tad helpless.

And there’s understanding in his eyes and through the blur you think maybe it’s pity. He stands, and your heart clenches, knowing he’ll go get Will, or someone because you’re being ridiculous but… he doesn’t.

You’re saying something about how the kitchen is wrong, how it’s been building for days, you’ve been here almost a week and you can’t fucking find anything. Panic and frustration locked horns in your chest and you couldn’t breathe and all you wanted to do was make something nice –

Instead, he’s pulling out things and piling them onto the floor in categories around you. It’s almost comical the stacks he makes but he seems determined and in your confusion the tears slow to a stop.

“Santi –” he hushes you. The cupboard doors hang open, and he guides you, lifting you up and up and into his arms. It’s solid and grounding, and he’s not as tall as the others and you needed him desperately.

And slowly, you begin to put things away where it makes sense, to you, and he helps. Not once does he argue with you, not even a moment when his dark eyebrows knit together in judgement. Dutifully he cleans and places everything just where you tell him, and you can almost feel the steam rising off of you as you begin to cool.

The final pile is a mountain of cloth, aprons and oven mitts and… something you’ve never seen before. Or actually, something you had, just not in your house. A set of hand towels you’d wistfully looked at awhile ago, before talking yourself out of the purchase. You had dozens at this point and didn’t need more but…

The man seating on the floor, folding them into perfect squares, is the answer to the question your mind produces.

You feel like you’ve been hosed down from head to toe, almost cold from the absence of frustration in your blood.

Pushing the pile to the side you climb into his lap, as determined as he was, and he looks surprised. It’s silly: sitting in your lover’s lap on the kitchen floor, but it feels more real than a movie. It’s your kitchen, yours and his, in this moment.

You kiss him, slow and purposeful and –

He knows you like the back of his hand.

You’re sitting on the bathroom counter distracting Santi as he shaves when Benny bursts in to tell you a story.

Will trails behind him, patiently waiting for his brother to take a breathe so he can set the record straight. Absentmindedly he weaves between them to pick up a fallen hand towel, passing it to Pope to wipe the shaving cream from his jaw. They share a moment and Benny’s story stutters out. Looking up from your nails you see Frankie leaning against the doorframe, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

There’s hardly room to move – and you couldn’t have it any other way.

His eyebrows are bent as he takes in the four of you, crammed into the spare bathroom, and Ben laughs.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk

for the poly frontier:

@grogusmum

#triple frontier poly fic #poly frontier #will miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #francisco morales x reader #benny miller x reader #maybe i dont know people

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