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333creolelady · 2 months

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Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch. 7

Black afab! OC X Captain Roman Reigns (Pirate au)

Warnings: Talking about death, Gore, angst, sexually suggestive dialogue.

Story playlist here <-

Alternative Playlist Link <-

Chapter 8 TBA

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Songs this chapter: Mermaids, Death is only a door *wink, wink*

Alternative Playlist Songs: Nothings gonna hurt you, Jigsaw, De selbey (2), I guess, Harry patch

Cover created by: @joannasteez

All reblogs receive snippets for the next chapter.

Jane

To be held is a precious thing. What had she learned about living in the past few months? She learned that it was about enjoyment and gratitude. She learned that it was about being present, taking in every detail—the good and the bad. She learned that outrunning her thoughts was the exact opposite of living. She learned that enjoying herself and taking her own pleasure was her right. And in those moments of enjoyment she found solitude in the sturdiness of his chest. Ease in the rhythm of his heart. Comfort in the sound of his breath and the heat of his skin, especially helpful during such cool evenings.

A hazy pleasurable night convinced her to move into his quarters. She’s been quite content ever since then. The biggest change was sleeping next to someone and being held by them. At first it felt slightly awkward, she’d lay there like stone. Thankfully he would not tease or reprimand her for it. He’d only pull her onto his chest, turn over and go to sleep. She’d stay up well past him, staring into the darkness of the room. Sometimes she’d talk to Pete and he’d squawk the words back at her. The colorful bird would often fall asleep before she did. Then it was just her and her thoughts all alone …in a pitch black room.

Her body could not yield to it’s own comfort. Then over the matter of days it unraveled something in her that left her breathless at night. He was none the wiser to her sniffles and cries, as she watched his slack sleepy face in utter confusion. How badly had her body needed to be embraced by another that it reduced her to weeping? How did being held feel like a release ? Yet the longer she laid there— night after night, her sleep would carry her away so abruptly and so quickly. Each time, sleep came sooner than the last. Ever since then, her body had become spoiled by the luxury of his embrace. She couldn’t fall asleep without him beside her.

…And she absolutely adored mornings. Sometimes he would wake her gently, kissing her fingers, her wrist, chest, shoulders, neck and every square inch of her face leaving her mouth for last. She’d open her eyes, giggling. Giggling. It had been many years since she woke up with wonder and delight—ready for the day.

Some mornings he would wake her up in the most wicked way possible. Her moans reached past her lips before she could tell day from night. Some mornings his fingers would be a welcome surprise, his other hand delicately tucked under her jaw and his mouth pressed against the side of her ear, taking in every whimper and groan. Other mornings she rose to a tongue in her cunt that was unyielding and relentless, making her find her release a concerning amount of times before she begged for reprieve. He was impish in the way he pursued her pleasure. Her feet could not touch the ground unless she was sighing in delight. Stopping at nothing to make every morning a good morning. No matter if she was annoyed with him the day before. He would take her to bed and smooth it all out. There was little room for conflict when she could barely make it out of bed without laughing or writhing in pleasure. Their bed had become her favorite place.

This morning was no different. Warm soft lips brushed against her shoulder, then the side of her cheek and neck. His kiss whispered across her skin until she opened one eye …then the other. She reached her hand beside her and felt warm and firm skin. She wrapped her hand around his waist and he wrapped his around hers. Without warning, he pulled her onto his chest by her ass, keeping his hand squeezed across her rear as he showered the side of her face with kisses. She groaned herself fully awake, turning her head from him only to wind up in a kiss. She chuckled against his mouth and he groaned. She pulled her mouth away, pressing her palm against his lips. He lightly struggled behind them.

“ So early in the morning and you’ve already started your antics. Have you no shame”, she grinned. He licked her hand making her retract it quickly.

He quirked a brow at her. “ I’ll have you know….it’s almost noon. And I’m immune to it if I do say so myself. Now if I may”, he abruptly flipped her onto her back with ease. She squeaked from the sudden movement, smacking his chest. He traps her with his arms and feasts on her neck, making breakfast of them.

“ We have things to do”, she sighed playfully trying to bite his bicep. He let her hands go and pulled her against him firmly.

“ Or…we could just stay in bed all day. I’m sure they won’t miss us.”

“Why, so you can torture me all day ?”, she snorted.

“I’m hurt”, said Roman with a hand on his chest.

She rolled her eye. “ oh really. Why is that ?”

“ You haven’t even seen my best work”, he grumbled into her hair before unleashing a whole new attack on her—tickling. She fought against him but she was no match to his strength. It didn’t help that he loved her laugh. Her defenseless cackles nearly drowned out the knock on her door. They both froze as if they were in trouble.

“ Jane… I need your help with lunch!”, Caden called out.

“Okay! 5 minutes !!”, she yelled back. She could hear him walk off as she threw a pillow at Roman’s face. She hopped out of bed before he could grab her and drag her under again.

She dressed quickly, giving her teeth a quick brush and pulling her hair back and away from her face. Roman was slow to get up, taking his sweet time to get his clothes on and freshen up. Before she could even get out the door his hands were on her waist, pulling her against his.

“ Roman. I have to go”, she whined, twisting against him. The smirk on her face only fueled his antics.

“ You’re not leaving until you give me another kiss”, he grumbled into her neck. She swatted at him but gave it up easily when he leaned in.

She slipped away and ran down to the kitchen. Lunch was fish and dinner was fish. They’d spent a month in the tropics after the whole key ordeal. During those days she tried fish in more ways than she could count. Pickled fish, fried fish, baked fish, stewed fish, raw fish (maybe once), curried fish, dehydrated fish, steamed fish, grilled fish and even salt baked fish. She was ready for something else but when you live by sea, you eat what you can. Their last supply stop was lasting well. They prepared well so nobody was starving. They jarred and preserved as many products as they could. There would be no more stops and they were traveling unknown waters now. There wasn’t any land for miles and miles and miles. It was already getting colder and an extra layer was needed from time to time.

Caden washed dishes while Jane helped the chefs with the jarred beans and salted fish. She served over 100 hungry and impatient pirates with the help of Caden. The clean up was quick and swift. Roman was busy doing a routine check on the health of the sails meaning He’d likely skip lunch.

Sword practice was in the evenings. Getting back into that playful banter with Adhar was difficult. They had a long talk about his life before. She could understand his longing for connection and she didn’t shame him for it. It was always easier to have an honest talk after a session when they were winded and tired.

“ Protect your side, it shouldn't be open! GOOD!”, Adhar barked as Jane pressed forward with her sword. He narrowly avoided the top of her sword. She had a habit of getting excited and dropping her guard.

“ Pull back. Both hands on the sword …cocky!”, Adhar teased. Jane smiled as she grabbed her sword firmly and played defense against his swings, stepping back to absorb the weight of his hits. Metal clinked and banged together across the deck for over an hour. Adhar stopped taking it easy on Jane as she improved. Their match ended with his hands up and her sword pointed to his chest.

“ You let me win,” Jane groaned, throwing her sword on the wooden deck with a clatter.

“ No, all you I swear it. You’re getting very good”, Adhar chuckled.

“ I want to go again”, said Jane.

“ Come on Jane, I'm sore. Tomorrow”, Adhar rubbed his arm.

“ Fine…”, Jane sighed and got ice from the ice box for his shoulder.

The quiet dates on the Black pearl carried over into this new ship. Things had changed because they shared a room but it was endearing how he still made requests for her. He still maintained the mysticism and the romance in their quiet evenings. It didn’t fall to the wayside just because they were together.

Tonight they shared dessert together, Wine and Dried fig cake. Her dress was a simple formal maroon dress with the lipstick to match.

“ These would be so much better with cream”.

“ Ah…we’re a long way from the delights of dairy—though I miss it.”

“ I miss ice cream.”

“ What was your favorite flavor?”

“ I liked raspberry but then again…all they ever had was raspberry. Vanilla was too expensive.”

“ Vanilla is the best “

“ Say’s the rich boy”, she teased.

“ I promise you I will convert you to a vanilla ice cream lover one day. And don’t count yourself out. You will be a rich girl very soon.”

She couldn’t imagine being rich. She’d crossed that bridge when she got there.

Jane looked out of the window in their cabin overlooking the water. The moon was big and bright tonight, illuminating the black water crashing onto itself.

“ Have you noticed the sheer amount of splintered wood and broken rogue ships we’ve passed by? It’s starting to feel a little eerie.”

“ I assume it’s because we’re getting closer to the entry point.”

“ The entry point ?”

“ Yes, apparently from what I’ve heard over the years, there is a cross between worlds into whatever holds the treasure.”

“ Well I just hope we survive it.”

Roman’s eyes gazed at her necklace then back at her. He wouldn’t entertain any doubt. “ You have that key. We’re meant to have that treasure.”

“ That doesn’t mean the journey won’t be dangerous.”

“ We know the weight of our choice and I will protect you with my life.”

“ Well I just hope that whatever comes next is something that we can handle.”

“ We’re close. I can feel it. We’ll make it”, he kissed her forehead reassuringly.

Jane turned back to the table and poured herself another glass. She crawled into his lap and took a few sips. Her smoked his clay pipe as he always did. This time whatever he smoked smelled sweet. She wasn’t a smoker and they’d established that already… but she wanted to taste it.

“ What flavor is that?it smells good”, she asks. He pulls the pipe from his mouth and looks down to inspect it.

“ They put dried blackberries in it.”

She didn’t respond and instead leaned in and kissed him. A swipe of her tongue on his and she tasted the black berry. She pulled away looking at his blushed mouth.

“ Blackberry . You definitely weren’t lying I taste it”, she smiled unassumingly. He pulled her mouth back down to his for more. She had every intention of sliding her hands into the waistband of his pants if not for a loud banging on the door.

“ Who is it ?!”, Roman yelled across the room while adjusting his pants. Roman pulled the door open, fully ready to give whoever was outside the business.

A cool breeze wafts through their cabin sending a chill down Jane’s spine. She stood up and walked to the door as Roman stared out into the dark. Nothing. Nobody.

“ Huh…someone playing at our door ? I didn’t realize I hired little boys instead of pirates”, Roman groaned in an annoyed tone and closed the door.

“ I don’t think we were being loud.”

“ Nobody can hear us up here. That’s why I moved you up into my room remember,” Roman smirked at her and closed the space in between them. After a nice bath the two went to bed but not without Roman fulfilling his morning promise and her returning the favor the best way she knew how.

Jane was up bright and early for breakfast since dinner was so light. She walked into the kitchen and got herself ready, pulling her hair up into the chefs hat and doing a quick wash of her hands.

“ What’s on the menu today ?”, she asks.

“ Porridge, biscuits, and canned oranges. Apparently some of the pirates have been feeling a little dull. Earl suggested we stay on top of it with fruit for the next few meals to prevent any scurvy”, Said Caden.

“ Oh no. Okay, let me see what’s it’s in the pantry”, Jane tied on her apron and went to the pantry on the floor of the kitchen, a nice change from last time. She lifted the hatch and walked down the steps. The pantry was cool with an icebox to store some fresh cuts of meat. It was stocked with flour, jarred items, dried meats, dried fruit, beans, oats and a small section for three chickens. They squawked at her intrusion letting their distaste be known.

“ Sorry ladies”, she said sheepishly. She found a considerable amount of jarred oranges and tangerines. She picked up some jars and hulled them up to the kitchen, setting them down on the counter. She collected her porridge mix, flour, eggs, and butter. She got to work on the biscuits first, cutting up the butter into pieces to knead into dough. Caden helped her with the porridge. As she was cooking she kept hearing a ruffling sound in the pantry. She patted her hands on her apron and walked down to see if maybe one of the crew members snuck in. The chickens were settled and sleeping.

“ Disgusting Wench!”

Jane jumped at the sound of a raspy voice in the darkness. “ Who's there ?!”, she panicked, looking around the room for a sign of life. Nothing.

“ Show yourself!”, she shouted. The same quiet stillness prevailed. She held up her lantern to the corner of the room. Nobody.

“ Are you alright ?!”, Caden yelled from up the steps.

“ Y-yes. I just thought I heard someone.”

“ Come on up, the crew is getting rowdy”, said Caden.

She stomped up the stairs in irritation, looking behind her one last time before stepping onto the main floor.

After breakfast was prepared, the food cart was filled. Caden and herself rolled out two carts. She set up in the front of the dining hall and Caden set up in the back. The pirates looked particularly irritated this morning.

Rory got his plate and so did Adhar, Thomas, William, Alexander, Marcus, Timothy, Samuel, Herman and Cortes.

Another group came to her cart for their breakfasts. Adam, a short and stocky crew member with gray eyes and tan skin looked upset. He snapped his head and turned to look at Jacob, a tall and lanky crew member with gray hair and and pale skin.

“ What did you just fucking say to me??!”, Adam snapped.

“ What—I didn’t say anything !”Jacob looked at Adam in utter confusion.

“ I heard you. Don’t say nuf’n else to me!”, Adam warned and turned to face Jane.

Jacob sent a swift and brutal punch to Adam. Jane screamed, jumping back in and stumbling into the wall. The two men started wrestling each other on the ground, faces red with fury. But then it seemed one by one, each of the pirates got into a heated argument. Some of them shouted warnings, other’s yelled profanities and some just started fighting. A few minutes later the entire room starts brawling.

Jane is frozen in the corner, unsure of what to do or where to go. John and Allen come out of the kitchen, faces slack with confusion at the sheer violence bestowed in front of them. Allen helped her up off the floor. Caden darted through the crowd joining Jane and the chef’s heading back to the kitchen.

Roman met them there, frazzled at the sound.

“ What’s going on ?!”

“ I don’t know, they just started fighting”, said Caden.

“ Are you hurt ?”Roman assessed Jane. She shook her head just as confused as he was.

He stalked heavily into the mess hall. Jane trailed behind him, only peeking her head behind the door.

“ QUIET DOWN YOU FILTHY, MANGY, MAGGOTS!!!”, he yelled, pounding his fist on one of the tables.

Jane could see some of the men running with bloody noses, others with black eyes and swollen lips. They continued fighting, only some of them stopping and then starting again.

“ QUIETT! Or you’re walking the PLANK!!!”, he roared, this time louder than the first. Roman’s entire face turned red, his chest heaving in fury. The men paused abruptly. A silence filled the room so heavy you could hear a pin drop.

Jane watched with wide eyes as the men traveled back to their seats.

“ The next person to throw a punch is getting dangled by their feet, are we clear ?!”

“ Aye…Captain.” they said in unison.

Jane stumbled back before Roman could walk through the kitchen door. He stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips as he looked at the three with a perplexed expression on his face.

“ They’ve never acted like that before”, says Caden.

“ Long voyages can sometimes make people a little irritable”, Says Earl as he walks into the kitchen. He was always the last at breakfast.

“ They’re acting like idiots. Please go assess them for any injuries”, Roman rubbed his nose bridge in pure irritation. Earl got to work and everybody in the kitchen went back to their duties.

“ I can imagine what mess they left for us out there”, says Caden.

“ Jane, do you want to come eat with me? I don’t want you in the middle of all th—.”

Jane walks up to him and stands onto her tippy toes, kissing his cheek in hope it would drain the rest of his anger away. “I’m okay. Caden needs my help. We’ll eat breakfast together when I’m done okay.”

“ if they give you any problems you come to me”, Roman says on his way out.

The mess leftover from the fight wasn’t too bad. Afterward she had breakfast with Roman before returning to their bedroom to read while he did, “captain things” as she called it.

And while she usually was able to relax with a good book before lunch, she kept getting the feeling that she was being watched. A coolness casted over the room. She shouldn’t worry, she could see Roman from here but yet she was so anxious. She chewed the corners of her lip and decided to get ready for her sword session with Adhar. She found her sword in the trunk of her chest and removed a layer of dress so that she could move around better. Yelling pulls her out of her task.

Jane heard a booming voice “ No, I want you to repeat what you said out loud !”

Jane scrambled to the French doors and opened one of them to see Roman screaming at a subordinate. It was Timothy, not to be confused with Thomas. Timothy was slightly shorter with a bit more muscle. The two looked similar but their demeanors were entirely different.

“ What are you talking about ? I’ve been on sails all day. I didn’t say anything.”

“ I fucking heard you! Don’t play coy with me”, Roman snapped.

“ I didn’t say anything. You’re being paranoid !”, Timothy said defensively with his hands up.

“ Wind deck duty for the rest of this bloody fucking voyage. I don’t want to hear anything about it. And you eat last. Don’t you ever talk about my — .”

“ Woah woah woah !! “, Jane ran out to where the pair stood. Their eyes snapped to her.

“ Jane. Stay out of this.”, Roman said sternly.

“ You need to calm down Roman,” she grabbed his arm with a concerned look. She could already see Roman tensing up and become defensive, ready to shut her down.

“ Timothy, why don’t you take a ten minute break?”

Roman scoffed, “What??”

“ Thankyou M’lady”, Timothy nodded in agreement and left to the deck. Roman whipped his head at her.

“ If I remember correctly …I’m the captain.”

“ Well apparently people answer to me too”, Jane gave him a sly smirk. He just rolled his eyes and walked back into his cabin. She followed him, only stopping at the table.

“ What happened ?”

“ I swore I heard him whispering about the two of us to someone. I won’t even repeat what he said. It’s unlady like for you to even hear it”, Roman sighed, rearranging items anxiously on his desk. She found him cute when he was flustered.

“ That dirty ?”, she chuckled slowly making her way to his side .

“ It’s not fun—oh don’t start that”, Roman groaned. Before he could get away she was already sitting on his lap.

“ You’re so uptight. And here I thought that last night would have loosened you up”, she pressed her hand to the side of his face. He didn’t even try to resist the peck on the lips that she offered him. He took it greedily.

“ I don’t know if you know this Captain Roman but sometimes when people are together, other people do talk about them behind their back. It’s good entertainment for them. Unfortunately…we can’t really stop people from gossiping now can we ?”, she chuckled. Roman just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“ It was strange and nothing you say will change my mind about it”, he grunted.

“ You're very moody today”, she teased, throwing her arms over his broad shoulder and pressing the side of her face against his.

“ Tell me what I can do to make it better ?”

“ Restart this day and choose to stay in bed with me like I offered before”, he scoffed.

Jane just laughed and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his face before tugging his beard gently.

“ I’ll make it up to you tonight, how about that ?”, she whispered quietly to him. His eyes darkened as he selfishly took a deeper and more intimate kiss from her, placing his hand gently across her neck.

“Have I ever told you how much I fancy your hands around my throat”, she whispered.

“ You be careful what you promise me”, he warned.

“ oh please, I’m a big girl. I can’t handle it”, she chuckled.

“ Are you even trying to make it through the day with me? I will cancel your plans,” he cautioned.

“Oh no no, I have sword practice and you know it.”

“Well you’d best make it fast”, he patted the meat of her thigh and she hopped up on her feet.

“ If you want your reward you’ll have to promise to let whatever you hear roll off your back today. I mean it Roman.”

“Fine.”

“Thankyou”, she kissed his forehead like he once did hers just a few short months ago. She headed for the door, grabbing her sword on the way out

“You’re making me a crazy man Jane Ramla”, Roman called after her.

As promised, this time Adhar took it a little further with her. It took her twice as long to get in a few shots but he ultimately won. He was good with a sword for a reason.

Jane was early for dinner prep because she had beans to soak. She went down into the pantry/cellar and picked some dried red beans and put them into a huge pot of water.

As she cleaned, that same coolness settled into the air of the kitchen. Ironically, the kitchen was always a bit muggy because of the little ventilation and the constant cooking of food.

She boiled all of the utensils in preparation for the meals. As she washed the dishes, she felt something cold press against the back of her neck. She jumped sideways, falling on the side of her hip. Her chest heaved in a panic and she touched her neck. Was something leaking between the floorboards? She looked up at the ceiling and it was perfectly dry. Carefully, got back up on her feet looking around the room cautiously, before going back to washing.

10 minutes pass, 20 minutes, 30 minutes pass and she feels like something is breathing down her neck. She stops washing and turns around, staring straight ahead of her

... And then it hit her, that cigar smell with Death & Ale. Before she could even scream, an invisible force smushed something against her mouth.

“ Don’t ……scream”, a heavy, crackly, gurgling voice filled her ears. It was Night, back from the dead and angrier than ever.

“ If you scream I’ll gut you like a fish. Not so much as a sound”, he hissed. She never knew ghosts smelled. Terror filled her eyes as she stared back at the emptiness of the kitchen.

“ You and I…have unfinished business. If you do not do exactly as I say, I will kill you. Don’t think I won’t”, he whispered softly against her ear. She felt the end of something sharp against her side..

Something snapped inside of her as she felt the blade. She immediately kicked her foot in front of her, causing a clatter from wherever he fell. Jane quickly grabbed the flour on the counter to her left and dumped it on the ghost.

“ You bitch!” He sneered.

His form was actualized, whitening and solidifying his features. It was Captain Night or at least it looked like Captain Night.

“ Don't come near me!”, she grabbed a knife from the sink.

“ ROMAN!!!!!!”, she screamed.

Night stood defensively, looking for an opening to attack her, hands sprawled out on each side of him.

Shoes clatter down the stairs and Caden bursts in.

“ Get Roman, Now!”, she yelled. Caden’s eyes widened at the side of Night and stormed out the room calling for Roman’s name.

“ Come here !”, Night yelled and jumped at her. She was light on her feet, dodgin his attack. Adhar taught how to premeditate a lunge and it finally came in handy.

Seconds later Roman came barreling through the door like a bull, pistol in hand. He immediately started shooting as soon as he saw Night. Surprisingly, Night ran up the steps instead of facing Roman head on.

Roman rushed up the steps after Night and Jane followed suit, knife still in her hand. Roman shot at Night, and he screamed in pain but he wouldn’t go down. It got to the point that the poor man was writhing in agony but still standing.

“ Why won’t he fucking die ?”, Roman looked at his crew in a rage full confusion.

“ He’s a Multo”, said Cortez.

“ What ?”

“ He’s a ghost. The disturbed unliving. You can only kill his soul with iron”, Cortez pulled a chair off his neck with a snap and handed it Roman. It was an iron necklace with some sort of emblem. Roman placed the necklace in between his lips on a mission to destroy this entity.

Roman grabbed the necklace and stalked towards Night. Night was now on his bottom, crawling backwards…begging and pleading.

“ No. Nonoplease. Please don’t !!”, Night cried.

Jane watched, disturbed by the tortured expression planted on his face. Roman ignores his pleas, wrestling night into a headlock, prying his jaw open with his fist and spitting the emblem down his throat. He pressed his hand against the night's mouth as he screamed against his fingers.

The features on Night's face, concave and Roman kicked him in the middle of his back. He stumbled forward, crawling towards Jane. “ Help me!!!”, he cried and suddenly his entire body was engulfed in flames. She covered her mouth in shock at the sight before her.

His engulfed form burned into the deck until his ashes disappeared into nothing. Almost as if he was never there in the first place.

Caden broke the silence. “ Well…I’m not sleeping tonight.”

“ Christ that was close. He almost cut me”, Jane sighed running her hands over her face. Roman was on her in an instant, checking her for cuts, bruises and wounds.

“ You’re all dismissed for the day. The crew can serve themselves dinner from whatever John and Allen made.

Jane I need to speak with you. Cortez you too ”, he grabbed her gently and hauled her back to the cabin. Corte. followed swiftly behind.

The three of them sat at the table, Roman pulled Jane onto his lap anxiously. She reassured him that she was fine but he kept checking her despite her reassurance.

“ What do you know about this thing?”, Roman asked Cortez.

“ Multo ? It’s the Filipino translation for Ghost.”

“ How did you know about it ?”

“ In the Philippines almost everyone has a ghost story. They can take many forms. My grandmother had the sight and she used to deal with them all the time. They can possess people. They don’t cross into the afterlife until their mission on earth here is complete. Unless of course you kick them out. Some people use salt but my grandmother used iron.”

“ He was trying to do something in the kitchen. He’s been following me around the ship”, said Jane.

“ He likely picked you to be his host. Who knows what he could have done. If he possessed you then he could have taken over the ship. With Roman none the wiser, he wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“ I like to think I have a backbone”, Roman scoffed. Cortez just smiled knowingly. Was their fondness of each other that loud ?

“ Wow…I can’t even imagine”, Jane shivered in disgust.

“ Thankyou Cortez. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t had that iron. Take it easy for the day. All traveling is paused”, Roman nodded. Cortez dismissed himself.

While Jane was a little shaken up, the two of them spent the rest of the evening together. They ate dinner together as they always had and talked about nothing. There was an anxious backdrop to the conversation because of what transpired earlier. They got past it after a few laughs and exchanged kisses.

Jane took a bath and washed her hair. As she oiled herself after her bath, a dull hum filled her ears. It was a nostalgic melody, almost like she’d heard it when she was too young to speak.

“ The water is safe”, Jane sang quietly as she oiled her scalp.

She pulled her hair up and away from her face and tied it into a scarf. “ The water is free…”, she hummed.

She wiped her hands humming and swaying as Roman sat at the table reading. She turned to him and smiled.

“ Don’t you hear that song ?”, she chuckled at him. He looked at her quizzically.

“ What song ?”

“ The music, can’t you hear it? The water is safe, the water is free”, she sung quietly wiping the oil off her hands.

“ It once lived in you …my mom used to sing that song to me or… maybe it was my grandfather. Somebody who loved me sang it. It’s just so soothing”, she smiled warmly. She began to walk slowly towards the front of the room, stopping in front of his desk.

“ Listen…”, she smiled widely.

The water is safe

The water is free

It once you lived in you

It once lived in me

We all must return to the sea

The water is where we’ll truly be free ….

Suddenly Roman’s eyes widened. They were so wide they were nearly protruding out of his head. He abruptly sprung from his seat. He started tearing their bedroom apart. She stood there confused as to why he was acting so strangely.

“ Cover your ears Jane!”, Roman grabbed a pillow off the bed and draped it over the back of her head. She pulled it off in confusion.

“ what’s gotten into you ?”

Roman darted out the room when he heard somebody screaming. He leaned over the side of the boat and Jane walked behind. He grabbed her as if she was contemplating jumping. That’s when she saw it. Jane looked over at the edge and screamed. Iridescent black and gray scales, beady red eyes, fanged teeth and thin white hair. It was decrepit, skinny, greasy, not human.

“ What the fuck is that ?!”, she panicked.

“ That’s what they look like to women. Their beauty doesn’t work on you all. Men are supposed to see something different.”

She stared at him in horror. “ And what do you see?”

He stuttered. “ I see…I see you, Jane”, he looked at her strangely.

“ What?!”, she frowned.

“ I once heard that they appear as your heart's truest desire. For a man that’s usually a woman ”, he said solemnly.

Her chest fluttered at that but she would have time to swoon over that later. These sirens were vicious.

“ So…why aren’t you jumping off the boat?”

Roman grabbed a rope hanging near the sail and threw one end of it into the water.“ My desire has been granted. At least that’s what I think to be true.”

“ Well…I don’t feel the need to jump either.”

“ HELP ME!!!!”, Alexander roars from below.

“ Grab it!”, Roman threw the rope down to Alexander. Jane tried to help, holding the rope just underneath his fists. Alexander grabs the rope but is ripped away from the sheer force of the Sirens. He’s pulled under in seconds. One of them pulled the rope from Roman’s hands giving him rope burn. These beings were strong and quick, only letting their victims struggle to bait more people out. Jane felt helpless as she tried to look for another rope or something to get the men out.

“ Use these ! Save who you can !”, Earl rounded the corner in a frantic shuffle, handing each of them pebbles of brown wax.

“ Stick it as deep as you can in your ear. I’ll be able to get it out later”, he urged.

Roman and Jane frantically ran around the ship pushing wax into the ears of the few men who had escaped from the lower decks. Their trances were broken the minute the wax blocked the sound. Adhar nearly jumped but was caught by his feet thanks to Roman. Jane got to Caden before he jumped.

There were casualties, at least over two dozen. Earl locked most of the pirates in the mess hall so that they couldn’t escape. Thankfully the mess hall was windowless, otherwise they would have crashed through the glass.

The loss was felt. Jane tried to catch Thomas before he fell over and couldn’t hold his body weight. She broke into tears knowing that it was his biggest fear. He yelled for her and she yelled for him. The young boy was dragged down by his feet, only bubbles left in his trail. She stared at her reflection in the water, perplexed at just how quickly all of this had transpired. Glowing red eyes replace her own. A creature rose from the water and hissed up at her, eyeing the key around her throat. She returned to Roman’s side.

The few men that were left outside guarded the perimeters of the ship the best they could—Roman and Jane included. The singing was getting so loud her ears were ringing. The key around her neck was buzzing. She knew then that these sirens wouldn’t be leaving until they got that key.

“ Everyone secure ?”, she asks Roman.

“ Yes.”

“ Any survivors ?”

Roman had a solemn look on his face “ No…”

And suddenly this overwhelming sense of dread came over her. This boat was surrounded by murderous creatures. They had already picked off over 20 pirates and were thirsty for more. How were they getting out of this ? Would they ride the rest of the way like this ? With wax in their ears and their rifles loaded ? She looked around at the 10 crew members on the wind deck. The fear etched on their faces made her heart sink. Some of them tried to shoot but the bullets did nothing, only embedding into the surface of the siren's skin like splinters.

And then warmth came over her. It started slow at the tips of her feet, calves, knees, thighs, tummy, chest and face. The key on her chest was buzzing and glowing. She reached for it as it lifted itself from her body, floating at her eye level. The singing from the mermaids turned to snarling hisses. Jane stared at the key in wonder, careful to make sure that it didn’t float off her neck. Roman touched it with the tips of his fingers, marveled by its strangeness.

Screaming jerked her attention from the key and out in the distance, she saw a blue light flickering from deep within the ocean. It was so bright, it lit up the water the way the sun would, showing the iridescent long tails of the sirens that seemed to travel on for miles. Something resembling a flame lit up beneath the creatures and they screeched in agony before disappearing into the darkest part of the water, trying to escape the pure force of the light.

Then she saw it. Scales filled with every shade of blue. A body so long she couldn’t see where it ended. Claws, whiskers, teeth. It breached out of the water jumping across the boat. She screamed in terror.

“ What is that !?”, Jane yelled clinging to Roman’s side in fear.

“ Bakunawa”, Cortez calls out in wonder.

“ What?”, said Jane.

“ The sea serpent. He is the god of earthquakes, rain, eclipses and the wind”, Cortez explained. He was smiling like it was a good thing. Jane wasn’t so sure.

When it breached the water, the impact was so forceful that it pushed the boat violently, knocking water onto the wind deck and soaking all their clothes.

The dragon chased after rouge sirens, tossing some of them in the air before swallowing them whole. He played with them like food. Eventually he retreated deeper into the water and then it was quiet and dark again. She could feel the slightest tremble in Roman’s hand behind her. This might not have been over….

“ Are we…food?”, she whispered to him quietly. Where had the moon gone ? Had the dragon swallowed that too? Why was it so dark? She could barely make out his features.

“ Whatever happens…till my dying breath”, he whispered back to her. He didn’t have to finish that statement. No matter what happened he would try his hardest to keep her alive. She smiled solemnly at the outline of his face. Truthfully, if this was their fate then this would be so much bigger than them. There was no gun or sword that could stop any of this. Her brain tried desperately to grasp that. How long had she seen him as her savior? This invincible protector that could bench twice, thrice, four times his size? Why was it crumbling before her eyes now? He was just as open as her—as human as her. Just as fragile as her and everyone else on this ship. If this was the end, there would be nothing anyone could do. And the possibility of what could be death washed over her as she traced the side of his shaking palm.

Let her final moments be the smell of him, his firmness, the feel of his mouth. All these things that had built up the broken woman that appeared before him months ago. Let these last moments be in his arms.

“ Hold me ”, she whispered to him. His arms wrapped around her like a life raft, his chin tucked into the crook of her shoulder. She held the side of the boat bracing herself. Flickers of light flashes in the distance. The water dragon was still there. Toying with them..

The serpent circled the boat. Its eyes were the size of the hull. The side of its face breached to look up at them, an intelligence in its eyes that unnerved her. Almost as if it was about to open its mouth and speak. It stared directly at the two of them. Her legs were shaking beneath her like a leaf. Without a word it sank back into the ocean, circling again.

There were so many moments until now where she believed that the world would be better without her. That she herself would be better without the world. Now, she couldn’t have felt more different. In a moment like this she regrets the years of her life she threw away before the ship.

“ Drowning is a painful death Roman. I don’t know if this is the way I want it to be”, she heaved, looking down as the dragon’s blue scales sparkled and scraped along the boat.

“ You feel it, I feel it ”, he said quietly. She looked around the boat to see that she wasn’t the only one who needed comfort. Earl held onto Caden like he was his own kin. Adhar held onto William. Jonathan and Allen held each other like lovers.

Suddenly the dragon swam in front of the boat once more, it’s head raised in an assessing manner. Then it slowly unhinged its jaw, showing long sharp teeth the size of city buildings. It’s bottom row of teeth slightly jutted out of the water, with the top creating a cave like opening. Water fell from the top of its mouth like a waterfall. She could not see into the abyss of its gaping maw. And as if it beckoned the ship to come to its awaiting mouth, the ship began for the entrance with quick haste.

Oh, they were food…. Without a shadow of a doubt they were food. They wouldn’t survive this. Whether they accepted it or not the story would end here. Jane turned around wrapping her arms tightly around Roman and burying the side of her head in chest. He cradled it preciously in the palm of his hands.

She heard prayers. Prayers from the Quran, Christian proverbs, Catholic proverbs, Hinduism. Men called for their mothers, their wives, their daughters, their fathers. In these moments they were children again, needing only the comfort of another to make it alright.

They are getting closer now. She could hear the sounds of the ocean water splashing against the flesh of the dragon like fresh rain.

There was so much she needed to tell him. So much she kept inside. How could she say that the last few months with him were the happiest moments of her life? How could she tell him that she wanted nothing to do with living until his kindness and generosity was bestowed upon her ? That sitting in the same room with him soothed that gnawing emptiness and darkness that she’d always carried with her? That he restored her idea of what a man is and should be ? That she would do anything to watch him sleep one more time…just to watch the light enter his eyes as he roused from his slumber ? To see the smoke roll past his lips and feel it kiss her skin. To watch him study a map the way a scholar studied a book. To hear him speak in all the tongues he knew from a life he escaped. To see him laugh. To feel his gaze from across the room and not falter when she met it. To know that gaze was for her and her only. To watch him dress in the morning. Witness him in deep thought when nobody was looking. One more time. Just one more time. She needed to see him one more time. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes…his did.

She took her key and held it up to his face. It still had a dim glow, bright enough to make out his eyes, mouth and nose. They were bright and fearful but unflinching as always—they softened when they saw her. She cried out a laugh as if he’d disappeared for a moment. He smiled back at her and suddenly that was all that mattered.

“ You have the most beautiful eyes. You really are gorgeous…I don’t know if I’ve ever told you”, she sniffles back tears, tracing her fingers along the side of his jaw.

“ No, but I appreciate the sentiment especially at a time like this. The both of us will look smashing wherever we’re going at least”, he chuckled. She actually laughed too. At a time like this…joy was present. And it was because of him. Only he could make her laugh in the middle of her fear.

It would happen in his arms, she knew that at least. And as if the words had flooded out of her in the most unstoppable manner she uttered—they both uttered…

“ I love you”, he says

“ I love you”, she says.

Knowing smiles shine back at one another as they admit it in unison. Echoes of splashing water reverberated around them. They were inside of its mouth now. It didn’t matter. Roman takes his finger and lifts her chin, bringing her soft mouth to his.

And they surrender.

—————————-

P.s. no they aren’t dead dude.

I’m so excited for the next chapter! The moment we’ve all been waiting for—treasure! But I’m even MORE excited about what happens after that. Get your ballgowns ready! And don’t forget, Roman owes her an icecream after all ❤️

#spotify #roman reigns #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #the tribal chief #wwe #wwe smackdown #pirate au #roman reigns au #the head of the table

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 11 months

Text

IFHY CH. 1 (Miguel O’Hara x Reader)

God, he can’t stop himself now. Not with how you peer up at him through long lashes, eyes glazed over with lust. Not with how your tongue darts out to lick your lips and he thinks about capturing them in his own, biting at them until they’re red and swollen and that adorable pout is forever plastered on your face.

He watches your fingers glide under the waistband of his suit, manicured nails scraping lightly against the skin there and he almost moans.

How long had it been since he let another person touch him like this, or rather, at all?

Warnings: nsfw (18+), possesiveness, rough, mild blood, dirty talk, mentions of character death, you and miguel are both sad and bad at coping

Word Count: 4085

Note: This might be an ongoing series because I have So Many Thoughts. Feel free to send me asks about anything confusing, and let me know if I should continue to post this here or not... IFHY is a Tyler the Creator song, which y’all should listen to - it’s my Miguel’s anthem basically lmfao. ANYWAYS pls enjoy i appreciate u all!

When the spiders begin to infect your world, you know the only person who can keep things under control is you. At least, you’re the only one anyone would hold accountable if they decided to do something… unsavory, and if the large black hole in the middle of New York City was indicative of anything, it was that the spiders were nothing but trouble.

Peter called you first, because he always did.

“Uhm, boss lady, there’s some other Spider-Men here, and they want me to join some secret society? I think I’m being recruited into the Illuminati…” he trails off, obviously whispering into the phone. Since your father had passed, Peter had sort of… leaned on you, in a sense. You hadn’t any recollection of meeting the boy despite his Avenger status, but he looked at you with so much melancholy in his gaze that you knew he must see something of Tony in you, and you’d allow it simply to make yourself feel better. Nobody thinks you’re anything like your dad, but on days like these, you can only wish you were.

“I’ll be right there, Pete.” You mumble back, setting his location into KAREN and heading out, thick black wings spreading behind you, launching you into the night.

The explosion comes moments after.

You see it in the sky - a clash of black and white that seems unworldly, knocking the wind from beneath your wings and sending you flying back, tumbling towards one of the hundreds of towering buildings in New York.

Crack. You hear it as you collide, feeling the dig of concrete and glass into your back - a feeling you’re all too familiar with, and yet it seems like so long ago that you had felt it last. It’s almost… exhilarating.

You steady yourself with a foot against the building, launching yourself off of it and back towards the wreckage of whatever unfortunate event was unfolding in your city.

You watch beeps, signaling your close proximity to Peter and you begin your descent to him.

It was horrible, really, how excited you were at the idea of a fight. The last time you had been involved in something like this was with him by your side… maybe if everything went awry, you could join him soon enough.

There’s a huge fucking hole in your city, you realize as you approach.

“KAREN,” you speak into your wrist as you glide by, “send the bots out to scan and contain the area.” She replies with a conformation, but you’re too transfixed on the pit beneath you. It’s horribly, endlessly back, and you feel yourself being tugged towards it ever-so-slightly as you fly.

You need to find Peter, and fast.

You see the other spiders before you see yours. There’s three of them, all with striking blue and red suits, drawing your eye in curiosity. They all looked so… different. You expected some evil version of Peter, red eyes and big fangs and very obviously variants of your Spider-Man, but the crowd that greets you is nothing of the sort.

You plummet down to the surface, positioning yourself in front of your spider. His suit glimmers with gold and metals- a suit your dad supposedly had made for him.

Looking at it makes you a little queasy, and you fight the urge to stare at your palms, covered in the same glittering metals.

“(Y/N)!” Peter sounds so relieved. He’s always happy to have that weight off his shoulders, free of carrying the burden all on his own. You wonder how long he’d been doing so before you recruited him into the New Avengers.

You wonder how anyone could give up control like he can.

“I guess you guys haven’t gotten the memo,” you gesture at the trio of spiders in front of you. A biker chick, a ballerina, and the biggest fucking beefcake you’ve ever seen in your life; it’s somehow not the weirdest group of friends you’ve seen in your days in the city, “but Earth-616 is closed for tourism and immigration. I don’t care what planet, galaxy, dimension y’all are from, but you need to leave.”

“Sorry, pendeja, we’re not here for you. This is obviously Spider-Man business, no?” The beefcake speaks, strolling towards you leisurely. His arms are crossed, horribly large things that strain under the fabric of his suit. You smile warmly at him, cocking your head.

“Mmh, no.” The smile drops, “I am Earth-616’s representative, not Spider-Man.”

“I work for her!” Peter points at you, nodding to the other Spider-People. You try not to cringe.

“That’s your problem, not mine. My problem,” he points behind you at the gaping hole in the city, “is that.” He’s closer to you now, absolutely looming over you, and it’s then that you realize how truly large he is. You’d always been on the smaller side of the scale, but his stature was all encompassing, his shadow engulfing you with no effort at all.

You watch as his eyes drift down to you, then back over your head at the pit, and with a little jingle on your watch, you’re prompted to bring your eyes to it, too. Your drones had arrived, and were making quick work of scanning the hole and surrounding areas.

“Don’t worry, little buddy,” you reach up and pat his arm - oh my God, he’s rock fucking solid, “I’m already taking care of it.”

He practically growls at you, “You don’t have the technology to take care of it; we barely do, and this is our specialty.”

“Was that supposed to sound impressive?” He grimaces, “It’s okay to admit that someone’s better than you.”

The scowl he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with some… little girl, okay? That hole could destroy your universe, do you understand? Now, step back and let us do our work.” You simply watch him as he steps past you to the ledge of the building, rocketing himself off of it. He flies for a minute, rather impressively, you might add, but it isn’t long before he approaches the hole and slams into something transparent, a ripple of blue emanating from where he collided with your drones’ protective barrier.

You turn to the other spider-people, who you can tell are trying to hold back laughter.

“Now, are we open to collaboration?”

Your house is so empty. Apartment, penthouse, whatever you want to call it, it was always the same when you got back. No laughter, no steps echoing through the hall, no glasses clinking in the kitchen. It’s just you and the ghosts of the life you’ll never get back.

So, when you enter the penthouse with a visitor in tow, the sound of his footsteps following close behind you - something other than the sound of your keys jingling and your ragged breathing - it almost feels alien to the space around you. This home wasn’t meant for people anymore; this was your silent prison.

But it’s comforting in a way. It feels familiar… melancholic.

“You’ve got this whole place to yourself?” He lets his eyes wander over the space as you lead him down the hall, past the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Yup,” you say with a pop of the P, sounding characteristically unenthusiastic about it. What you wouldn’t give to have that be untrue.

“It’s not as fun as you’d think it would be,” you lead him down the stairs, down, down, down towards the lab. Your father’s lab, which you haven’t bothered to enter in so many months. You had let Sam and Rhodey take whatever they wanted, but you hadn’t bothered to look. There was nothing worth seeing down here, anyways.

“I know it’s not,” he replies like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like everyone knows what it’s like to be totally, truly alone like you, “the silence is… too much.”

You don’t know how to respond, so you simply type in your code, allowing the glass door to slide open for him. The room is big, much bigger than you remember but somehow suffocating all the same.

You realize after a moment that there isn’t a single suit left in the lab, and you wonder if they really needed them, or if it was some kind of kindness for you.

You elect to stop looking.

“Make yourself at home, big guy.” You say, making quick work of cleaning your desk by simply wiping it all onto the floor with a clang. You don’t know what it was going to be, nor do you care to - he wasn’t there to help you finish it, and you had more work to do than ever. “KAREN, pull up our data on the big hole, please.”

‘Our earlier scans indicate that the hole is actually a large concentration of Anti-Matter,’ her robotic voice thrums through the room, holograms of information popping up all around you, ‘our drones have managed to contain it for the time being, but it seems to be trying to expand within the barrier’s perimeters.’

“I have one of those, too,” Miguel says behind you, too close for comfort. His presence is all-encompassing, casting you in a shadow,

“A big hole?” You cock your head, and he only shakes his head disapprovingly.

“LYLA, pull up our data to compare.”

Another voice chimes as a little woman appears in front of you, a pout on her face.

“What, I don’t get a please? KAREN got one,” her eyes drift to you, “can I work for you instead?” Miguel just sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Now, please, LYLA.” She smiles, and your blue holograms are soon accompanied by orange, merging together in a technicolor lightshow in front of you both.

“A lot of this data actually overlaps,” LYLA says, flickering in and out of view all over the room, inspecting everything you have to offer, “but your drones missed a few key components.” She expands a few pieces, covering you in the orange light of her holos.

It’s times like these that you wish you really were Tony Stark’s daughter- then you might have a tiny bit of his intelligence to understand what was in front of you.

You’d figure it out eventually, though - you always do.

You can’t help but notice how much he looks at you. Your work had been rather silent so far, only small comments made when absolutely necessary on his part, but his eyes say more to you than anything else. Deep, dark circles that match your own, watching every move you make. Every bend, stretch, turn - his eyes are on you, tracing your delicate form.

You were well aware of the effect you have on men. Since you were young, much too young, you had known - you were the cover of Playboy at 16, Vogue and Cosmo in the following years, now too many to count. Teenage heartthrob (Y/N) Stark, just as wild and untamed as her father had been. At least, that’s always what they had said. You never tried to seduce anyone, but who wouldn’t want to be on their knees for a Stark?

Miguel, apparently, because every time you would catch his gaze he would avert it, avoiding your attention like the plague. He’s like a wild animal, cornered, threatened, by you. By your mere presence.

To be completely honest, it bothered you. Everyone wanted you, would try to take a bite whenever opportunity arose, so what was so special about him? Why wouldn’t he try?

If you know anything, it’s that men love the chase.

And yet he won’t chase you at all.

It’s… irritating, you decide, but a good challenge nonetheless.

“You know,” you say, breaking the silence. You find yourself approaching his workspace, feet moving without any real thought behind it.

“You look lonely,” your hand trails against the desk and he watches as it glides across the sleek metal, his shoulders tense but unmoving, “We could keep each other company.”

You’re in front of him now, his knees slightly spread as he sits, and you knock them with your own to make room for yourself, sinking in between the space he makes for you.

“(Y/N),” he practically growls, and you know he wants it just as much as you do. You know he doesn’t think he deserves it. You know it’s an act of self punishment, so you ignore it.

Your hand glides across the fabric of the suit straining against his thick, muscled thighs. You trail higher, higher up to the V of his hips and he releases a shuddering breath. Fingers searching until they find the button they’re looking for, allowing the lower half of his suit to release.

“Do you want me to?”

“Do you want me, too?” She asks him, her touch featherlight on his skin. She sets him ablaze, sending shivers wracking his body and a growing heat in his groin that he hasn’t felt in so long, save for lonely nights in his quarters, fisting himself shamefully in the shower and washing the evidence of his crimes down the drain. He needs it more than he’s willing to admit, and the way your voice echoes in his ears, soft and sweet and innocent. He can’t bring himself to tell you no, even though he knows you’d never ask him such a thing if you really knew him. But you want him, and it’s been so long since someone has wanted him, so he simply threads his fingers through your hair.

He watches your fingers glide under the waistband of his suit, manicured nails scraping lightly against the skin there and he almost moans.

How long had it been since he let another person touch him like this, or rather, at all?

You pull the waistband down, down until his cock springs out of its place under the fabric, the head already pink and dripping.

Jesus, he looks so large compared to you. Your hands barely fit around it, the length of it seemingly almost as big as your head. You were so small, though - everything about you was small, and yet you acted so much larger than life that he had forgotten how fragile you appeared to be. He can’t forget it now, though - not with the comparison right in front of him; not with the way you were on your knees for him.

You place small kisses against his length, moving ever higher and leaving a trail of spit behind that left him aching. You sent him a coy smile before you licked against his tip, precum smearing on your lips like gloss. You take the head in easily, tongue swirling across the slit in a way that makes his hips buck up, but you keep your composure, a small hand against his pelvis to push him back down.

He reaches for it, taking your wrist in his hand, which completely engulfs you.

“Muñeca,” he lets out a shaky sigh, “I know you can take it.” No more words are needed - he knows you understand with the way you gaze up at him, your jaw going slack and your tongue laying flat underneath his cock. He tightens the hand in your hair and pushes you down, thrusting deep into your throat. He keeps pushing, fucking into you like a fleshlight, feeling the warm wetness of it with every motion. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock, have you still feel the ghost of him every time you swallow, missing the feeling of choking on him.

You gag around him but stay lax, pliant - obedient. Those eyes, God, glossy and tearful, but wanting. You want this, him, you want him, you want him-

He pushes your head down to his pubes, holding you there as your throat constricts around him and he cums deep, an iron grip keeping you in place as he empties into you.

With a rough shove, you’re off his cock and you stumble backwards off your knees, catching yourself on your hand as you cough. He barely gives you a second before an impossibly large hand grabs your face, fingers pushing roughly into your jaw.

“Show me,” he commands, and you oblige without complaint, mouth open and tongue out with an aah.

“Mi niña buena, no? So hungry for my cum.” He says, and you have the audacity to smile, nodding with your eyes shut lazily, nuzzling slightly into his grip.

He can’t control himself a second longer.

He grabs you harshly by the arm, pulling you upwards into his lap and straight into a kiss. He can’t help but growl into it, too much teeth on his end but he needs to feel in control, like he can capture you with every swipe of his tongue into your mouth and every nip against your bottom lip.

He thinks he tastes blood.

His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up, claws digging into your soft, supple skin as he drops you on the desk, pushing you with a harsh hand against your chest. Your back hits the table, cold metal against the part of your skin unveiled by your shirt riding up high on your back.

Miguel doesn’t have time to undress you, no time for tenderness or patience. Instead, he rips at your shorts, his animalistic claws tearing through the fabric of both them and your undergarments, leaving you bare below the waist and he takes it all in eagerly, eyes scanning every part of your body. He pushes your shirt upward, exposing your breasts kept carefully under a plain, black bra. One swipe of a claw and that falls away, too, leaving you completely exposed.

You don’t even look embarrassed.

Miguel is the one falling to his knees now, coming face to face with your bare pussy like a man praying at the altar, and it’s with closed eyes and shaking palms that he buries himself into it, tongue lapping incessantly at your folds.

He eats like a starving man, tongue flicking against your clit over and over until your back is arching inches above table, white knuckling the edges of it as abuses your sensitive cunt.

The lust coursing through him threatens to tear him apart, so he braces himself with hands on your thighs, claws digging into the skin and leaving you with a hot pain to accompany the unending pleasure he’s giving you.

He sucks against your clit and your hand instinctively reaches for him, threading into his black locks and rutting against his tongue as you cum hard, harder than you ever have by yourself, alone in that room with your multitude of toys. Despite the many men you had been with, nothing could have prepared you for the beast that sits between your legs, eyes dark with a hunger that threatens to swallow you whole.

“Miguel, please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for - more, mercy, you aren’t sure, but his figure is looming over you in seconds, his cock already hard once again as he rubs the tip against your sopping wet entrance, slick sounds echoing in the room along with your pants.

“Gonna fill you up with my cock, chiquita. Fill you up and stretch you out. Fuck,” he bares his fangs and you moan, “you want it, baby? Tell me you want it.” He grabs you by the jaw again, fingers gliding across your blood stained lips. “Ask your papi real sweet like.”

You can tell he wants it just as much as you do, feeling the heat from his cock against you, his precum adding to the slick of your cunt, but you want to beg him, want to obey, so you oblige.

“Please, please, fuck, I want you inside me. Break me, Miguel, please.”

Break you - fuck, he could do that. Every part of his body threatened to; his sharp claws against your soft skin, strong grip and large hands on your delicate wrists, his towering frame over your own, much smaller one. He was Godzilla and you were fucking Tokyo.

His dick pushed into you entirely ungentle, his bestial tendencies apparent in everything he does. Your thighs are covered in scratches, some smeared with small lines of blood, and the constant mix of pain and pleasure makes your head spin.

He stretches you out thoroughly, his massive girth shoved into you inch by inch until he’s hilt-deep inside of you and you swear you can feel him in your womb.

He doesn’t waste any time, pumping in and out of you at a bruising pace, pulling you down to the hilt with every movement. You can barely think, head spinning, filled only with thoughts of the strong figure fucking into you like a dog in heat.

He’s so, so much bigger than anything else you’d ever had, and the way he stretches you open leaves your stomach in knots.

He’s in love with your pussy. The taste of you is like honey, your warmth engulfs his cock in a pleasure like no other- it’s like you were made for him.

He leans down and captures you into another kiss, broken up by your incessant moans with every thrust of him into your cervix. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, and when he pulls out of the kiss and opts to leave trails of them along your neck, teeth nipping and gnashing at the skin they find there. Every part of this man threatens to consume you, and yet you give yourself up readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back as you moan.

He growls against your shoulder and you feel sharp teeth pierce into you, deep searing pain that rips a cry out of your mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. He fucks your through it, hard thrust after thrust until you feel him twitching inside you and he buries himself balls deep, cock pulsing as he fills you with cum.

Neither of you can bother to care about the implications.

He can’t help but stare down at you as you lay there, chest heaving and eyes half-lidded. You looked fucked, and it took everything in him to stop himself from fucking you again. Maybe he went too rough, he thinks as he stares at the bleeding bite on your shoulder and scratches littering your body, but when he pulls out and your pussy is gushing with your cum and his own, he can’t bring himself to regret it in the slightest.

“You took it so well, (Y/N).” The sound of your name on his tongue pulls you out of your stupor and you can only respond with a groan, your hand rubbing against your eyes.

You needed a shower and a nap.

You push yourself up onto your elbows and watch as he secures his suit back in place, the traces of your deeds only apparent on your soiled figure.

He presses a few buttons on his watch, and in a moment, a small, metal spider crawls out of it, making you furrow your brow as you watch him fiddle with it. Holding it by the leg, he holds it out to you, and you hold your palm up warily. It drops into your palm, skittering before settling itself in your grasp.

“All the data you need is compiled on that little guy. Try to take care of it, okay?” You nod, much too tired to speak.

Miguel’s eyes flit over you one last time, and the way his brow furrows leaves you wondering what exactly he’s thinking in that gorgeous head of his.

He takes one impossibly large step toward you, hand reaching for your face and it takes all your willpower not to flinch away from him. His grasp is gentle this time, thumb tracing against the soft curve of your jaw as he places a small, delicate kiss against your forehead.

“Take care, chiquita.”

And with that, he takes his leave, the light of his portal dimming as he exits, leaving you alone.

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #reader insert #x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader

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nerdychaoscherryblossom · 4 months

Text

Once Upon a Pixar (2026)

Hello. It's me, and this is the Pixar version of Once Upon a Studio called Once Upon a Pixar.

(The film opens with the headquarters at Pixar as the employees leave for the day.)

Pixar Intern: It's so incredible to think that George Lucas started Pixar back in 1979 until it was founded by Steve Jobs in 1986 40 years ago today. To think of all those talented animators and unforgettable characters who have been a part of the studio over the years.

Pete Docter: Yep. (as he and the intern turn around one last time) If the characters could talk to each other.

(Pete Docter and the intern leave as the door closes while the title comes up: "Once Upon a Pixar". The camera zooms into a photo picture of Woody, Jessie and Bullseye running on a record player. Woody glances back as everything seems quiet in the lobby.)

Woody: Psst! Atta. Princess Atta. You there?

(Princess Atta flies into the lobby and over to his picture.)

Woody: Is that it? They all gone?

Princess Atta: Yep, they're all gone.

Woody: Yee-haw! (he, Jessie and Bullseye leap out of the picture) Come on, Jessie, this is it.

Jessie: Let's get everyone. Yodel-ay-hee-hoo!

Joy: (gasps) There's the signal! All right, everyone! (she, Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Disgust jump out of their production cell) It's picture time!

Elio Silos: That's tonight?

Joy: That's now.

Ember Lumen: The 40-year group photo. (she and Wade jump out of their production cell as well) And the sun's going down. Come on, Wade, let's feel the burn!

Wade Ripple: Ooh, a fire pun. (chuckles) Got to like that.

(Suddenly, Arlo and Spot come out of their production cell as Wade gasps and goes against the wall.)

Arlo: (chuckles nervously) Sorry.

Woody: Picture time, gang!

Mei Lee: (chuckles) Okay, here we come!

(Mei Lee, Miriam, Abby, Priya and Tyler jump out of their production cell while they laugh.)

Abby: Wake up, everyone!

(The Oozma Kappa come out of their production cell as Squishy yells while Russell, Carl and Dug walk down the hallway.)

Russell: Whoa!

Dug: Awesome!

Russell: Oh, Mr. Lightyear! Get the folks upstairs!

Buzz Lightyear: Roger that, Russell. To infinity and beyond!

(Buzz Lightyear flies upstairs as Lightning McQueen drives happily down the hall with Mater.)

Mater: Yee-haw!

Merida: (jumps out of her production cell) It's picture time! (runs to the lobby) We're meeting at the lobby!

Flik: Okay! See you there!

(Miguel Rivera and Riley Andersen ride on Dim as Dim flies to the lobby.)

Miguel Rivera: (hollers)

(Francis gives a fun ride to Dash Parr.)

Dash Parr: Whoa! Higher! (laughs)

(Francis chuckles as Remy and Emile slide down the stairs as Luca Paguro lands on the floor and sighs as he catches Nemo.)

Nemo: Water.

Luca Paguro: (shudders and rushes to the counter)

P.T. Flea: No, no, no, there's no time for snacks!

Luca Paguro: Uh, Andy! A little help here?

Andy Davis: Oh, uh, let me see here. There we go, a nice bucket of water.

(Luca Paguro dunks Nemo to a bucket of water.)

Nemo: (grunts)

Linguini: (chuckles) Oh, waiter! There's a fish in the bucket! (laughs)

(Ernesto de la Cruz tries to get candy from the vending machine while he curses in Spanish as Mr. Incredible and Frozone walk down the hall.)

Mr. Incredible: Yikes! Do you think all the villains might catch up?

Frozone: Hmm. (freezes Syndrome in his frame) Not all.

Syndrome: (strains)

(Rex goes to the elevator with Imelda Rivera, Manticore, Ian, Barley and Laurel Lightfoot.)

Imelda Rivera: Going down?

Roz: Hold the elevator. I'm going to the lobby.

Rex: Huh? Oh, you've got to be joking.

(Joe Gardner hums to "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" while he draws Hector Rivera.)

Brook Ripple: Hey, black man. Shake a leg, will ya?

Joe Gardner: The leg won't make a difference, it's all in the wrist.

(Hector Rivera bursts out of the drawing as Joe Gardner shrieks in surprise.)

Hector Rivera: Ay! I haven't seen a fall like that since Spain. (fixes the chair) Oh! Much better.

(At the men's room, Hopper, 4*Town and Chef Skinner freshen up as Chef Skinner blows a kiss and chuckles. Suddenly, Tuck and Roll appear in front of his eyes, laughing, as Jessie opens the door.)

Jessie: Let's move it, gentlemen!

(While Lorenzo Paguro tries to free his wife Daniela Paguro from her picture, Giulia Marcovaldo walk with Buster, Mr. Mittens, Larry and Machivelli.)

Giulia Marcovaldo: Uh-huh. Meeting at the lobby. Don't eat the rats.

(Scud tries to eat Remy and Emile but Dante pops up and scares Scud away, thus saving the rats' lives. While Izzy and her team walk by, Mei Lee and her friends watch a cartoon on a TV.)

Izzy Hawthorne: Come on, everyone, you're gonna have nightmares.

(Zurg pops out of the TV and scares Mei Lee and her friends away, laughing. Back at the elevator, Roz makes it in time.)

Roz: Thanks very much for holding the elevator.

Rex: (groans)

Evelyn Deavor: I'm also going to the lobby as well.

Rex: Huh? Oh, come on!

(While M-O is being followed and annoyed by Dot, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson follow down the stairs, where Mr. Anderson is the one to drop his wallet and they laugh. Buster picks up the wallet and runs off with it.)

Mr. Anderson: Hey, Buster! Andy, get your dog!

(Woody follows up the stairs as he looks amused when he sees Underminer leading Colette Tatou with his hypnosis watch.)

Woody: Underminer? Underminer! You-- You stop that now, Underminer!

Rosie: Don't worry, Woody. (chuckles) I got this.

(Rosie hits Underminer offscreen unconsciously.)

Woody: Huh. (gasps) Wow.

(Woody looks up at photographs of John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter, Lee Unkrich and Joe Ranft while he takes his hat off.)

Buzz Lightyear: Oh, Woody, where are you? We're at the lobby!

Woody: (chuckles) Got to go, but thanks. (puts his hat back on) On with the show.

(At the lobby, Woody rides on WALL-E with a fire extinguisher)

Woody: Yee-haw!

Mike Wazowski: Coast is clear, Sheriff.

Woody: Great! (holds the door open) Right this way, everybody.

(Sulley bumps into the door.)

Woody: Oh! Sulley, are you okay?

James P. Sullivan: (grunts) Never better, Eastwood. (accidentally trips the trash can)

Stinky Pete: I knew I'm surrounded by... (gets startled by Slim who rides on EVE) Idiots!

Slim: Tallyho! Whee! I'll show you the world! (laughs)

Woody: Oh, great, the ladder.

(Buzz sets the ladder while he hums.)

Mr. Dicker: Every time it gets hard. Money, money, money.

Woody: All right, everyone. Get-- Get together now. (to Tinny) Oh. After you, Tinny.

Emile: Oh. Pardon me.

Francis: (holds up a camera) Here's the camera, Lightyear.

Buzz Lightyear: (takes a camera and chuckles) Thanks, Francis. (climbs up the ladder)

Woody: Buzz, be careful!

Buzz Lightyear: (makes it to the top) All right, now where's the timer button?

Molt: Oh, oh! Three, two, one! (Randall Boggs grins)

(Buzz accidentally falls off while he screams and breaks the camera. As Buster walks to the broken camera, Buzz recognizes it.)

Andy Davis: Come on, Buster. (Buster runs back to Andy)

Buzz Lightyear: Huh? Oh, no. It's ruined.

Anger: Well, that was fun!

Sadness: Maybe we can try again in another forty years.

(The characters sigh disappointedly and are about to leave.)

Woody: Oh, no, no, wait. Come back. It-- It-- It'll be fine. It'll be...

(Just as the characters are about to leave, Randy Newman appears from nowhere while he plays "You've Got a Friend in Me" on piano with his orchestra.)

Randy Newman: ♪ You've got a friend in me ♪

♪ You've got a friend in me ♪

♪ When the road looks rough ahead ♪

♪ And you're miles and miles from your nice warm bed ♪

Hopper: I knew this was gonna happen.

Randy Newman: ♪ You just remember what your old pal said ♪

♪ Boy, you've got a friend in me ♪

♪ Yeah, you've got a friend in me ♪

(While the song goes on, Mr. Incredible fixes the camera as Buzz looks excited and Sulley puts the ladder back in position. Manny and Gipsy lift Buzz to help him up as Buzz sets the camera up for the photo.)

♪ Some other folks might be ♪

♪ A little bit smarter than I am ♪

♪ Bigger and stronger too, maybe ♪

♪ But none of them will ever love you ♪

♪ The way I do, it's me and you, boy ♪

♪ And as the years go by ♪

♪ Our friendship will never die ♪

♪ You're gonna see it's our destiny ♪

All: ♪ You've got a friend in me ♪

♪ You've got a friend in me ♪

(The camera flashes as the group photo in the Pixar hall is taken, and the short ends with a text "To the animators, directors and crew of Pixar who worked for 40 years on movies and short films, Thank You." and then the song ends.)

Well, I think this is the transcript. I hope you like it. I also hope Pixar does a new short film like Once Upon a Studio did. Have a Happy New Year.

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mercurydancer · 11 months

Text

Burning Matches Pt. 1

Of New Sights and Colors

Summary: Ch. 3 - "In an idle sort of way, none of them had expected for Noir’s blood to be black. None of them had expected that their sudden appearance would be just the distraction that the Lizard had needed. None of them had expected for that very black and very unexpected blood to be painting the wall behind him as Lizard’s claws dug into his flesh, and sent his body flying limply to hit the wall with a wet-sounding smack." - A story based on recovery, color, and the knowledge that you're not alone.

In honor of the new Spider-Verse movie coming out, I am going to be posting the entirety of Burning Matches to tumblr. It's already posted on AO3 under the same title, username HopelesslyLost, so if you want it, you can find it. As it is, I've been avoiding it because it's HUGE, but I figure I might as well.

Buckle up.

It was horrifying. It was dizzying. His mind spiraled in a million different directions, his body pressing against hard concrete as he desperately attempted to draw breath into his lungs, fingers scrabbling at the building, seeking something, anything that he could use to ground himself. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, trying to focus on the roughness of the concrete that he could feel, ripping his gloves off in order to be that much closer, barely remembering to shove them in a pocket as he did so. He didn’t even notice the fact that his fingers had dug into the rough edges to the point where they were starting to bleed.

His breath was still rattling in his lungs, his body still tense, but if he kept his eyelids closed, he could at least pretend that nothing had changed.

What had happened?

One moment, Peter had been swinging after some two-bit crooks, intent on putting them on ice after they had shot up one of the poorer localities…and in Hooverville, that was saying something. The next, he had somehow swung into something that squeezed him tighter than the Sandman, and hit harder, too. When he finally was spat out of whatever it was that caught him, he found himself here. This…this…

Peter didn’t know what this was. He didn’t know what was surrounding him, had no idea what was happening, why he was here, where here even was! What was happening? Slowly, slowly, Peter peered out through his goggles, his eyes squinted as narrow as he could make them and still be able to see.

It was like an icepick was driving into his skull.

Peter closed his eyes again, heaving a breath in, and letting it whistle out.

He was having a panic-attack, pressed to the side of an unknown building, and all because he didn’t know what he was seeing. What an absolute clusterfuck. This was stupid, this wasn’t him. He had adjusted to being bitten by a spider and seeing a Spider-God before him, he had adjusted to being able to shoot webs out of his own wrists, and climb on walls - he could do this.

He could do this.

He opened his eyes and kept them open against the searing brilliance that pierced him and forced himself to actually look at what surrounded him. It made his eyes water and his pupils kept sliding over everything, unable to focus on what he was seeing. Eventually finding it too much, he instead turned his attention up, away from the flashing of…whatever it was. Was he having a stroke? A seizure? What the fuck was going on?

Focus on the sky, Pete, focus on the sky, he thought to himself, heaving in another deep breath. The sky was…the sky was odd, too. It was as open and as big as his own, but the…he didn’t even know what to call it. He didn’t know what it was that was spread out over him, that was tinting everything… Peter focused on the big fluffy clouds that drifted across the sun, taking in their appearance, the way they were so normal, and finally closed his eyes again.

Maybe this was it, maybe he was dying.

A sudden pain lanced through his head, a sharp and sudden feeling that was like his spider-sense was on overdrive, giving him the feeling like there were a million spiders crawling up his spine. His eyes flew open and there was something else over him.

Peter’s first thought was to reach for his gun, to shoot the thing that was between him and the semi-familiar sight of the sky, but the thought faded as quickly as it came. As soon as he made…eye-contact? with the thing that was above him, the feeling of spiders changed to something else. Something familiar. It almost hurt, but it didn’t, a feeling of such strong connection it was almost like he was looking at himself in the mirror.

“You…” he started softly, distantly recognizing another softer, distorted, and certainly more feminine voice say the words at the same time, “you’re like me…”

A…hatch for lack of a better word, opened up in the strange metallic thing that rested over him, blocking the sun, and a…little girl stared down at him, her eyes wide and…he hadn’t ever seen eyes like that before. A little too big, a little too bright, but at the same time he still felt like he knew them. He felt like he knew the one that was looking at him, like he was connected to her. It was an odd thought and he wasn’t sure how much he liked it, but it stuck. Because she was like him.

“Are you okay?” the girl asked him, those eyes changing, becoming even bigger, if it were possible, worry in their depths.

“I…” he started, and then shook himself. Peter saw the way that she kept glancing around her as though waiting for someone to spot them, he saw the way that she pressed into the torso of her…machine, even as she asked how he was. This odd little girl was scared, and he didn’t want to cause her anymore fear. He took all of his fear, all of his pain, and all of his confusion and balled it up internally before shoving it deep under his ribs, to be ignored until he got a spare minute (the fact that he never got a spare minute was ignored).

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I’m fit as a fiddle, just…a little disoriented.” He focused on her face, focused on those eyes, fighting to ignore everything else. “Are you alright? Are you…from here?” He pushed himself away from the building, watching as the…robot? backed up a few paces as stood up before it, allowing them to stare at each other roughly eye-to-eye. She was covered in…whatever everything else was covered in, her clothing an odd light tone, and her face shaded much differently than he thought it should be. She looked as though she could have belonged…perhaps…if everything else wasn’t so…bright.

Sure enough, she shook her head.

“I was pulled here, I…don’t know what happened, exactly, but I think we’re both in an alternate dimension,” as she spoke her voice sharpened, and her expression cleared, all of her focus on him. The fear had left her in her rush to explain, and Peter knew immediately that this was her element. “You obviously don’t belong here, you’re completely in black and white which goes against everything around us, and everything that I have seen. I also don’t belong here, see, this is the year 2018, and I’m from the year 3145.”

“Woah, back-up, it’s 2018 here?” Peter asked, finding something else to trip him up. This was shortly followed by the realization, “You’re from 3145? Who are you, kiddo, what’s your name?”

“Yes,” she responded before straightening up and reciting, “My name is Peni Parker, and I work with the SP//dr mech, my father’s mech,” she patted the interior of the…mech she was in, said mech making a pleased-sounding chirp and putting its ‘hands’ on its ‘hips.’ “Before…before he died that is. I connect to it through a psychic link with a spider that lives within the robot and together we protect New York.” She grinned, and as she spoke Peter watched as a rather large spider crawled into view with a feeling of trepidation clawing its way up his spine, watching as it perched on her shoulder and gave a brief cheer. When it did nothing else he slowly allowed himself to relax, but couldn’t keep his gaze away from that spider. “We’re a great team!” She called out and held up a finger that...the Spider tapped back with one of its legs. What the fuck. After a moment of thought he resolved to leave it alone unless it got too close. Peter had been bit before. He wasn’t going to be bit again. “I love to hack into mainframes and I love New York!” She called out brightly and broke his train of thought, and the triumphant pose they had both fallen into after their...tap...held for another few seconds before breaking and she gave a slight frown. “What about you? I know you’re like me, I can feel it, but…”

“Well…” Peter paused, trying to think of a way to condense everything he had gone through into something that would be kid-friendly and wouldn’t make the kid either pity him or…be traumatized. “My name is Peter Parker. Where I’m from the year is 1933, and I’m a Private Investigator… I got bitten by a magic spider that gave me spider powers and I’ve been using them ever since to put a dent in the crime that plagues New York. I like…” he hesitated on what he could say that he liked, looking into those wide and interested eyes and fishing through the possibilities. “I like egg creams, and I like to punch Nazis.” He paused at seeing the way that she seemed to dim, not at the idea of him punching Nazis, he could tell, but…almost at the lack of enthusiasm, and spat out something else, “I like to let matches burn down to my fingertips, sometimes, so I can…” he let his voice die out.

Her expression had only turned sadder, somehow, the robot lowering itself from its proud pose into something more somber.

Smooth.

“So, you can what?” she asked. And even her mech looked upset, which was even smoother. How the hell did he fuck it up this much?

“So, I can feel something,” he answered finally. “But that’s not important. If you’re not from here, and I’m not from here, why are we here? And where is here?”

“From what I’ve managed to gather, which isn’t much, admittedly, the technology here is all so…old,” she griped, “it doesn’t connect well with my SP//dr. But I do know there is a Spider-Man! I was in the middle of seeing if I could track him when I felt…well, I felt like there was someone I had to see around.” She ducked her head slightly. “I had thought at first that it might be him, since…well, I thought he’d be the only one from here. But I’m okay with finding you!” She grinned, a bright and happy expression. “I’m just…glad to not be alone.”

Peter nodded and kept his eyes focused on the little girl before him, watching as she shrunk slightly at the admission, her foot gently circling the metal floor of her pod. He idly wondered if she could stick to walls on her own, or if she was simply at the mercy of the robot’s abilities. The idea frightened him in an idle sort of way. Being that dependent on anything, even a mech that had a link with him, was not something he had any desire for.

He also had no idea how to answer her admission. He saw the moment that she realized this, an odd…flush spreading across her cheeks, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to make it better. Peter internally cursed his lack of people-skills and wondered how many ways he could kick his own ass.

“We…we need somewhere to stay!” she finally called out, regrouping remarkably well in the face of Peter’s own inability. “Maybe we can find the Spider-Man of this reality. I bet they’ll be able to help us! They might even know how we got here.”

“Knowing the Spider luck, he’ll probably be right in the middle of it.”

The gripe got a brief laugh from Peni, and Peter smirked to himself proudly.

“Alright, so we have to find Spider-Man. Do you have any ideas?” Peni asked. “I can connect to another mainframe and try and hack in, but…I kind of stand out.” She paused. “You definitely stand out. I don’t think they’d notice me if I just walked up to somewhere, but you…” She didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t have to. Peter hesitated, standing up and looking out at the city before them, thinking.

“You’re a Parker, right? Peni Parker?”

“Yes,” Peni responded, beaming. “And you’re a Parker, too! A Peter Parker.” She frowned slightly. “Do you think that there’s a Parker here that’s running around as a Spider-Man?”

“I don’t doubt that in the least. Two spider-people pulled out of alternate dimensions and brought to another universe with a Spider, both named Parker? Once I’d call coincidence, but this feels too focused.”

“I think so, too!” She grinned. “Alright! I’ve got something to look for now, this will make things so much easier!” Peni hunkered back into the torso of her robot, which closed before her. “Come on!” she called out, and Peter watched as she leapt to another building, the leap something that made his entire body flinch backward as he followed her movement with his eyes and simultaneously took a better look at his surroundings. It hurt, and he found himself covering his eyes, ducking down.

It took a second before Peni seemed to realize he wasn’t behind her. He felt it when she landed before him, the hatch opening again, and he forced himself to open his eyes. Her wide and worried eyes stared at him, and Peter forced himself to straighten.

“I’m sorry,” he managed softly, “I…it hurts,” he finally admitted. “I don’t know what I’m seeing, and it really…it just hurts my head.”

“All the colors are really freaking you out, huh?” she asked him, but before Peter could ask what she meant, her robot reached out. “Don’t worry! I’ll help you out, just hold still.” Peter found himself grabbed, before being positioned in such a way that he could cling to the back of her robot. He hunkered down against it, holding his hat with one hand, a terrible mixture of shame and disgust welling up within him.

Pathetic.

“I’ll just carry you! We’ll get there soon, just try and get your eyes to adjust, okay? I know you can do it!” She cheered, the face of the robot staring at him with a bright smile blinking across its ‘face’, which was odd. Peter resigned himself to being carried and felt as she adjusted herself to his weight, and then leapt.

For a moment they were in free-fall, and then her robot thwiped its wrist out, webbing shooting out and swinging them up and out. It was a familiar experience, even without the control he usually enjoyed. It also allowed him to get used to the sight of the world zipping by him, the…colors blurring together as they swung.

He had to get used to this. He had to be useful.

Peter forced his eyes to stay open and trusted in Peni to get them where they needed to go in order to gain information. They would figure out what was going on, and then they would figure out how to get home, Peter was certain. This was just another strange pothole in the road he called life. He’d been hitting them so often they were almost expected by this point.

What else could happen?

#burning matches #into the spiderverse #spiderverse #spider-noir #peni parker #peter benjamin parker #spider-man #spiderverse fanfic #i don't care who you are #suddenly having bright colors like that would be insane #like CLEARLY he can see color given the way he reacts to the cube #there's some interesting implications in terms of like #did spider-noir's universe have color before and it doesn't now #what's the deal with that #how can his eyes see color if he's in black and white?#it's neat!#either way #here we go

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myheadsgonenumb · 8 months

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Murder on the Hogwarts Express: ch 1

A Marauders' Era interactive murder mystery - read all the way down to vote in the poll and influence the next chapter

Chapter 1: Death by Chocolate

Steam billowed across the platform, creating a thick pea soup from inside of which cats yowled, owls hooted, people laughed and chattered and shouted, and the scarlet engine creaked and groaned - sending vibrations down its carriages, as it was readied for the long journey north.

Hidden inside the mist was a little huddle of four people: Mr and Mrs Potter, their son James and his best friend, Sirius Black, who was trying to look as inconspicuous as it is possible to look when you are almost seventeen and the school heartthrob. It wasn’t girls he was hiding from (though he did quite a bit of that during term time - mostly in the boys bogs, with Remus) it was his own estranged parents and younger brother, who he feared might loom up out of the swirling fog and snatch him back to the dark home he had run away from that summer. Or at least yell at him in public, which was exactly the sort of thing Walburga would do, would be super embarrassing and would siriusly damage his reputation as the cool, bad boy of Hogwarts.

‘Now Jimmy, you need to try and behave yourself this year,’ Mrs Potter was saying, fondly. ‘No getting into trouble.’

‘I don’t get into trouble!’

‘No letting trouble find you then!’

‘Well, I can’t help it if I have a knack for adventure.’

‘Blowing up the boys’ toilets is not having a “knack for adventure”,’ his mother said firmly - though her lips twitched as if she was fighting down a smile.

‘That was entirely a misunderstanding… I meant to blow up the girl’s toilets.’

‘And Sirius, dear…’

‘Yes, Mrs. Potter?’

‘Watch out.’

He screamed as he was suddenly pounced on from behind and wrestled to the floor. ‘There you are!’

Above his head he could hear James and his parents laughing, which probably meant it wasn’t Walburga he was tussling with. Light brown hair and hard muscles beneath a muggle t-shirt told him he was in fact struggling in the embrace of one Remus Lupin and he rather enthusiastically wrestled back, rolling over and over until a trunk whipped past them; its wheels missing them by mere inches.

‘Blimey, Pete - you nearly took my head off!’ Reluctantly, Sirius disentangled himself from Remus, and they clambered upright again - the fourth of their party had now arrived: Peter Pettigrew, small and plump and lugging a trunk nearly as big as he was.

A light breeze blew and - for just a moment - the clouds of steam parted and they could see further down the platform. A redheaded witch, already in her uniform and with a prefect’s badge pinned to her chest, was struggling to heave her trunk aboard the train. ‘I should help her,’ James said, starting towards her. But his friends hauled him back by his collar.

‘Don’t make a fool of yourself, Prongs.’

‘She’ll only hex you.’

‘I won’t bother her, I’ll just…’ he stopped talking as a tall wizard, too old to go to school but still young and irritatingly handsome, stepped towards the girl and doffed his hat to her. She stared at him for a moment, then nodded her head… and then the mist closed around them again, and James could see no more.

‘Who was that?’ he demanded. ‘Who was that total slick git, who is way too old for her, by the way, who just put the moves on Evans?’

‘Did he “put the moves” on her?’ Remus asked.

But before James could fire off a retort, the train gave a shrill, piercing, shriek and it was time for them to say their final goodbyes and climb onboard.

They stowed their luggage in the racks and then found themselves an empty compartment (James still grumbling about arsehole older wizards who had smooth hair and straight teeth and no reason to be on platform 9 3/4), where they hung out of the windows and waved at their parents until the train had moved away and pulled completely out of the station.

Then they settled in for the long ride up to the top of Scotland. Sirius took out his newspaper and turned to the crossword, sitting beside Remus so they could work on it together.

‘Hang on a minute,’ James said. ‘Have you seen the front cover of that?’

The two boys looked up in surprise, and then turned back to the front page to see what had caught James’ attention:

Death Eaters in Dumbledore’s Domain

The headline read.

The Dark Lord Believed to Have Sent Spies to Hogwarts.

Peter gave a squeak of fear. ‘How do they know that? They can’t know that…’

‘I bet the Dark Lord’s not the only one with spies,’ Remus said, scanning the article. ‘Someone will have risked their life to get this information.’

As the war raging in our little world grows ever more intense, and trust is in short supply on either side, it has been revealed to The Daily Prophet that the Dark Lord is taking the fight to Dumbledore, and has recruited spies he can plant inside Hogwarts itself.

Rumour has it he means to gather information from directly under Dumbledore’s nose and - if our source is correct - has formed a psychic link with his spies so he can communicate with them directly…

‘What do you think Dumbledore will do about that?’ James asked.

Sirius snorted, ‘Well, if it was me, I’d start by rounding up every Slytherin snot in the castle and let Filch use his thumb screws to interrogate them. It’s bound to be one of those slimeballs… speaking of…’

He trailed off, and his expression darkened into his deepest scowl as the door to their compartment slid open to reveal Mulciber and Avery, two of their fellow sixth years, though from Slytherin house, standing there wearing identical smug sneers on their ugly mugs and with wands drawn.

‘Aculeo’ white sparks flashed from the tip of Mulciber’s wand and hit James in the face, causing him to cry out in pain as the stinging jinx made his face turn red and swell up. Peter gave another squeak of fear and - before anyone could stop him - slid off his seat and bolted out of the compartment.

Remus and Sirius had jumped to their feet (James was lying on the seats, clutching his face and moaning, ‘He got me… he got me,’) their wands clutched in their fists.

‘Colaphusio!’

‘Glacio!’

‘Rictumsempra!’

(‘Oh mother of mercy, it stings!’)

The four wands whipped through the air, slashing back and forth so they were almost invisible, while the sparks crackled between them, lying heavy on the air.

‘Innortio!’ Avery stumbled as Sirius’s curse mirrored the problems of an inner ear infection and he lost his balance, but Mulciber cried ‘Praefocio!’ and suddenly Sirius was suffocating, choking on nothing.

‘Mutatioarbeus.’

Remus gave a cry as Avery’s hex transfigured his arm into a tree branch. His wand fell from the twigs and - with nothing left to do he swung his arboreal appendage at the Slytherins.

(‘If someone could just take pity and kill me - the pain!’)

‘Petrificus Totalus,’

‘Protego!’ Sirius’s well timed shield charm protected Remus from seizing up like a board and managed to knock the two Slytherins off their balance. They stumbled back and then - with a final ‘Colaphusio,’ which hit Remus like a punch to the face and caused his nose to erupt with blood, they backed out of the compartment.

‘Yeah - run back to your filthy Dark Lord,’ Sirius yelled after them. ‘Oh - Moony … let me see,’ he peered into Remus’s bleeding face and tutted. ‘This looks bad.’

‘I look bad,’ James told him, from where he was still lying across the seats, clutching his face. ‘I’ve been hit by a stinging jinx. I’m all swollen and hideous.’

‘You’re always hideous,’ Sirius said, absently. He tutted again. ‘This is a mess, Remus, come on - let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up,’ and - without so much as a backward glance - he ushered Remus out and the door slid shut behind them.

James sat up and tutted. He gingerly touched his tender face with his fingertips, it felt all raw and puffy. He sniffed rather sadly, as it seemed no one cared about him.

The door slid open again and Pete sidled back inside and sat down. ‘Sorry I ran off like that.’

‘Yeah - it was rather cowardly of you. Still, I managed to see them off.’

‘Where are the other two?’

‘Bathroom. Remus got hurt.’

‘What happened to your face?’

‘...Nothing.’

They sat there in silence for a while. Slowly the stinging jinx wore off and James’ face returned to normal. Sirius and Remus had still not returned. ‘Where are they?’ James asked, tapping his fingers on his armrest impatiently. ‘They’ve been ages.’

The minutes trailed by. There was still no sign of the others.

‘Well, that’s it,’ James said at last, standing up and stretching. ‘I’m starving - I’m off to find the Trolley - want anything?’

‘Er… A cauldron cake and a licorice wand.’

‘Kay - tell the others where I am… If they ever deign to show up again.’ He left the compartment and made his way down the train, swaying as it lurched and rolled its way through the countryside.

He was surprised that he did not meet the Trolley Witch on his way down the train, and made it almost all the way down to the end without bumping into her. A little ahead of him, he heard a carriage door suddenly slam shut - but that was the only sign of life. The last compartment was in darkness, the door slightly ajar.

He tripped over something in the dim light and, frowning, bent down to pick it up. It was a squashed Chocolate Frog box. A few steps farther along and there was another - and then another.

This seemed very strange.

‘Hello?’ James called out, gathering the discarded boxes in his arms. ‘Did someone drop these?’ He staggered his way to the final compartment and pushed the door open. The lamps flared up, filling the space with light - and James froze in the doorway.

The trolley was inside the compartment, seemingly abandoned, piled high with cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties and jelly slugs. And then, lying on the floor, her eyes glassy as they stared unseeingly at the ceiling, was the Trolley Witch herself - stiff, still and completely dead.

The poll will be open for 24 hours. Thanks for reading and voting. Please consider reblogging so all your marauders loving mutuals can join in

Next chapter

#marauders era #marauders #murder mystery #marauders fanfic #interactive fanfic #polls #Harry Potter #detective james potter #murder on the hogwarts express

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mileapokp1677 · 1 year

Text

Three Steps to Win You (CH 32)

Title: Three Steps to Win You

Rating: M

Pairing: Daddy Chan/Tankhun, Kinn/Porsche, Vegas/Pete

Category: M/M, AU Nerd Jock

Summary: Accidentally, scientist Tankhun Theerapanyakul embarrassed footballer Captain Chan "Daddy" Knight in front of his coach, teammates and fans. He had to fulfill three tasks from the Captain before his apology was accepted.

Chapter 32

(Chan POV)

Two weeks later -- Knight Residence

Chan decided to park his black Range Rover in front of his house. He was too tired and way too grumpy tonight to park his car in the garage. The flight that brought the BSFC team back to Bangkok tonight was delayed for more than two hours and it had ruined his plan. He should have taken Tankhun to dinner tonight as a token of gratitude to the Doctor, for helping him get his house ready for the housewarming party.

It was such a relief that earlier when he called Tankhun to inform him about his delayed flight, the scientist didn't sound too annoyed. He just chuckled and said that Chan owed him two dinners instead of one, which the Captain immediately agreed to.

"I'll take you to dinner as much as you want, Tankhun, let alone two. Your wish is my command."

“Chan, please~ stop it, way too corny!”

“I’ll call you as soon as I get home,” said Chan as he chuckled.

“Hmm, ‘kay. Safe flight.”

It was almost 10 and he should have given Tankhun a call right away, but the beautiful image before him, that greeted him as he stepped into the living room of his house, stunned him for a moment. Tankhun really was a miracle worker. Chan was grateful he decided to hear the Doctor's suggestion to choose this colorful Persian rug instead of the plain earth tone colored one, which was his initial choice.

"There has to be a pop of color in every room, Chan, or everything will seem monotonous."

And Tankhun was proven right. Chan immediately took his cell phone out of his pants pocket to call the doctor.

“Uhm… Chan?”

“Oh, God, did I wake you?” asked Chan, who suddenly felt bad. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please, go back to sleep, we can talk tomorrow.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” replied Tankhun. “I’m waiting for your call, but then I fell asleep. It's quite busy today.”

“Please, tell me about your day. We won the match, by the way,” begged Chan as he took a seat on his new camel-colored three-seat sofa.

Ah~ I love this~

"I know, Cap, I watched the game.”

Chan smiled. Tankhun never missed their match.

“Anyway, the store where we bought the sofa and carpet gave me a call, since they cannot reach you, and told me that they were ready to deliver all your orders. So I came over to your house this morning to wait for them and give the staff instructions on where to place the furniture. Hopefully, everything is according to your liking and imagination. They look really good if you ask me.”

"Yes, yes, everything looks wonderful, Tankhun, thank you so much,” said the Captain. “I can't believe that I forgot, this Saturday we are scheduled to play out of town. I’m so sorry to bother you with this."

"I gave you my words that I will help you, right? It’s OKAY,” stated Tankhun firmly. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“I know, but still…”

“No BUT…” Tankhun insisted, and Chan knew when to give in.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Now, I believe everything is set for the party next Sunday, right? Have you called the caterer?” asked Tankhun.

“I have.”

“Good, then we’re ready,” confirmed Tankhun. “I just need to bake one savory dish and one sweet dish for your party. You don’t mind, I'll bring Kim to the party, right?”

“Of course not, I’m thinking of inviting Kinn and Porsche too.”

“Ah… the more the merrier.”

“True. Umh, Tankhun…”

“Yes?”

“Please, don’t kill me, but I still need your help.”

“I thought we already covered all the rooms that we need for the party,” stated Tankhun, who started to list them. “Living room, dining room, kitchen, the back patio, and the pool. Did I miss anything?”

“Please come here tomorrow morning around 10, I’ll show you myself,” replied Chan. “Please?”

“Okay,” answered Tankhun. “You owed me lunch too.”

Chan chuckled. “Deal! Till tomorrow, baby.”

“See ya~ good night.”

******

(Tankhun POV)

Sunday Morning -- Knight Residence.

Tankhun saw the condition of the main bedroom that was located on the second floor with his mouth and eyes wide open. It was that pitiful. How!? It had been more than two months since he had helped the Captain move. How was it possible that in this gigantic room, there was only a single-size mattress (not even a fucking bed frame!) tucked away to one side of the room on a small rug? How could he sleep like this!?

"Chan!?" cried Tankhun, turning his head to where Chan was standing. "I'm so sorry, but what the fuck!?"

"I know I'm the worst," replied Chan.

“Please, tell me there are clothes inside the walk-in closet.”

“Of course, you’re the one who sorted and packed my clothes at the penthouse, remember?” asked Chan. “You want a tour?”

“Yes, please.”

This main bedroom was magnificent. How could Chan neglect it like this? Was the job as a Captain of one of the top football teams in the country truly super busy that he didn't have free time to take care of his personal affairs? If this were his room, Tankhun would use all his spare time to create the most amazing sanctuary for himself.

When Tankhun entered the walk-in-closet area he felt like entering nirvana -- think the walk-in closet that Big made for Carrie but this one even more amazing -- AND Chan had not only one but two walk-in-closets separated by the biggest and most luxurious bathroom he had ever seen. Almost everything in the bathroom was double... Two sinks, two cabinets, a bathtub for two, a shower for two... Tankhun realized at that second that this master bedroom was intended for two people.

Fuck, this is super awkward.

Because, as much as he wanted to be the Captain -- boyfriend!!! there I’ve said it! --things were still unclear between the two of them. How could he help him decorate this space for him?

What to do... what to do...

“As you can see, I need help.”

“But, Chan… this is your bedroom,” said Tankhun. “Don't you think it’s a bit too personal?”

And this room is for TWO people!!!

“I trust you.”

The way Chan looked at him that time when he said those three words, Tankhun couldn't explain it. But he'd be lying if he said those words didn't flatter him. He was so damn close to confessing his feelings right then and there.

Not now, Tankhun Theerapanyakun. Not yet.

Nevertheless, those words and that look Chan gave him just now, increased the percentage of possibility in Tankhun’s book like… A LOT.

Just a bit more assurance, just a teeny tiny more.

“Not trying to be nosy or anything like that, but I always think, even though the rest of your house is still a mess, at least this one room is all set. I mean, you just need to move the whole set in the main bedroom in your Pent-"

Chan grabbed Tankhun's hand and quickly cut him off, "Tankhun... I... let's just say before I moved into this house, I haven't slept in that bedroom for 10 months."

WHAT!?

"But-"

Chan looked paler, and Tankhun decided to stop himself from asking any further questions. Wild guessing attacked his mind at that moment, but Tankhun bit his tongue and just waited for Chan's explanation.

Chan let out a long and heavy sigh before explaining, "The Penthouse... It's all Anna. She..."

Chan again let out a long and heavy sigh.

"Chan, please... this is none of my business," said Tankhun, trying to lighten the mood. "You can tell me later on when you're ready."

"No, no, I need you to know about this," said Chan. "Give me a minute."

"I bought the penthouse because Anna refused to live in the old apartment that I used to share with my ex-fiancé. So, I let her take care of everything. From choosing the location, building, unit, decorating... everything. I didn't interfere at all."

Oh…

"The first thing I did when I broke up with her called an architect and construction firm to build this house for me,” continued Chan, his voice much calmer now. “My dream has always been to live in a big house, far away from the crowds. I've had enough of living in tall buildings or living a city life. I just want some peace. So, here we are, and I think I just confessed how truly old I am to you."

Tankhun chuckled and squeezed Chan's hand that was still holding his hand. He felt, right now, that was the only thing he could do even though there were many other things he wanted to do to make Chan feel better. This 'fake dating' label really made Tankhun unable to act decisively, everything seems blurry. He wasn't sure where he stood, where the boundaries were, and he hated it, so fucking much.

“Please say you’ll help me with this,” pleaded Chan, being so stubborn, and lately Tankhun found that Chan’s pleading eyes were almost as lethal as Kim’s teary eyes.

God damn it! I have become such a softie!

“Okay, fine, I’ll help you, BUT you have to tell me specifically what you want for your room. The vibe… the atmosphere,” said Tankhun firmly. “Your bedroom is your sanctuary, Chan. Promise me, you’re gonna do the most work, I'll only give the minimum help."

"Deal!" replied Chan. “Shall we go?”

"Let’s go."

******

(Chan POV)

Shopping with Tankhun was interesting and so much fun.

He knew the best places, he had great taste and most importantly -- this was something that Chan honestly didn't expect from the Doctor -- he knew the value of money. He liked expensive things, that's for sure, but they had to have the quality and durability that was worth the money or else Tankhun would pay no attention to them at all. As someone who wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Chan really appreciates this.

“How about this one? Made of solid teak wood, so it is definitely strong and durable. The shape is simple and classic. It doesn't have a lot of trivial trappings... and maybe I watch too many Disney Princess movies, but I love four-poster beds."

Tankhun's long, slender fingers gripped one of the pillars of the bed and tugged it slightly to test its sturdiness. At that time, frankly, Chan’s thoughts and imagination were far... make that very far from movies about Disney Princesses, they were unmistakably indecent. Chan immediately averted his eyes from those fingers. Suddenly he felt hot.

“Well, well, well… isn't it the hottest couple of the year?”

Before Chan could turn around to face whoever was standing behind him at that moment, who had just made that rude statement, that said person had already made a second one that was even more coarse.

"Almost 31 years old and you're still crazy about those four-poster beds... what did you use to call them? Princess beds?"

The only thing that kept Chan from throwing his fists at this tall man's face was his responsibility to protect the good name of the BSFC, but that didn’t mean he couldn't open his mouth to defend Tankhun. But, of course, Tankhun beat him to it.

“Still so childish and still failed to keep my interest,” stated Tankhun, ice cold. “So not worth my time. Let’s go, Chan.”

Chan could hear Tankhun's footsteps behind him, but he still didn't take his eyes off the man in front of him. If this man dared to take a step, even one step, to hell with his reputation, Chan would break this guy's nose.

"Mr. Knight, as a man who has been in a relationship with Tankhun, I need to give you a warning."

"No, thanks, I don't need a warning. Just stay the fuck away from him," warned Chan as he took a step forward, his hands clenched.

The man then stepped back holding up his hand, "I still think you should know this... Don't get your hopes up when it looks like he can't keep his hands off you. Everyone who has ever dated him knows, that's the kiss of death. Cap, your time is running out."

"Shut.The.Fuck.Up.”

"Ooh~ did I touch a nerve? Tik Tok Tik Tok..."

Chan saw red. His fists were so ready to crush the man in front of him.

"Chan, let's go! He's not worth your time!" shouted Tankhun, bringing Chan back to his senses.

“Coming, baby.”

Oh, Chan could hear that cad's mocking snort behind him, clearly, as he walked toward the Doctor, but he was not going to embarrass himself and most importantly, not embarrass Tankhun. They were in a public place, so he chose to ignore him.

Tankhun held out his hand to Chan as he whispered, "What did he say to you?"

Chan took Tankhun's hand and squeezed it before replying, "Nothing important.”

“Are you sure? You look kinda upset.”

“This is my scary face, I just gave him the warning to stay away from you."

Tankhun smiled and then wrapped his other arm around his waist. "Aw~ My Hero~"

Chan hugs Tankhun's body tightly -- too tight? -- but he really needed an anchor that moment for his brain and his heart just couldn't stop fighting.

... the Kiss of death...

How Chan wished he never heard a word out of that bastard's mouth.

TBC

#kp fanfic #rare pairing #daddy chan #tankhun theerapanyakul #chantankhun #au nerd jock #romantic comedy #fake dating #slow burn #kinnporsche #kim theerapanyakul #everybody is a footballer #kpts boys #kinnporsche la forte

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juanabaloo · 2 years

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Exhibit Ch - Your honor they love each other! (fuffy)

This is a pro-fuffy BTVS rewatch series. Kendra Appreciation Post! Exhibit Ch is a bonus / catchup review about Scott Hope, Kendra, and a few non-Faith episode recos. Long post.

1. Remember how I wanted Scott Hope to get one more episode so Buffy could prioritize Faith over him? Scott is literally never seen again after 3.03. I wanna review Scott Hope. In exhibit B.10 I mentioned that Scott does seem particularly insightful. Here’s a text montage of all the great Scott moments. Imagine “I will remember you” playing in the background.

“Uh, I'm sorry. I'm a bad liar. It's not good for the soul.” (3.03)

“You're friends with Buffy, right?” - to Faith (3.03)

“Faith has been telling me tall tales.” (3.03)

“my mom says that therapy can be completely helpful.” - to Buffy (3.04)

“I hope you realize I don't actually know these people.” - jokingly about Pete and Debbie (3.04)

“It's just that you never really know what's going on inside somebody.” - about Pete and Debbie after they both die (3.04) Y’all he realized he didn’t actually know them.

“Before we were going out, you seemed so full of life, like a force of nature. Now you just seem distracted all the time, and… I’m really sorry” - dumping Buffy (3.05) Buffy agrees she has been distracted.

2. Scott - in what little we see of him - is very honest. He says he’s a bad liar, he realizes Faith’s stories are at least exaggerated, he’s pro-therapy. And he’s not just honest but he verbalizes it. The way he dumps Buffy, Scott’s so fucking honest. Scott is mentioned again in the show 3 times, twice more in S3 and then once in S7.

3. Remember Buffy’s traumatic therapy experience in 3.04? Well her next therapy session is to Holden the psych major and new vamp she very vaguely remembers from high school. In 7.07 (Conversations with Dead People) Holden says: “Scott Hope said you were gay… He says that about every girl he breaks up with. And then last year, big surprise, he comes out.” Buffy acts surprised at hearing this news, that he called her gay.

4. Granted, I could buy that Scott was repressed and gay in high school. But just because he came out eventually doesn’t mean he was lying. Also the “he says that about every girl” bit sounds OOC to me. Scott was insightful and honest when we saw him. I think this is the show queer-panicking again. “Oh no wait, Buffy can’t be gay! Or queer! Uhm….. yeah let’s add that Scott says that about every girl, oh yeah because he’s actually gay and therefore a lying liar.” Homophobic much? Silly show. Also am I picking and choosing to fit my argument? A little bit.

5. So in summary, Scott Hope is insightful and honest and calls Buffy gay, aka calls Buffy queer. She is so repressed / panicking that she is visually surprised by this in 7.07. Oh Buffy.

Alright, enough about Scott, let’s talk about Kendra!

6. Kendra is the Jamaican slayer that appears briefly in S2. The BTVS writers room was super white. There are several things they don’t do a great job with IMO, including the LA homeless scenes (3.01), queerness (in general and also being bi just doesn’t exist?), judaism, and sexual assault (*rages at multiple epis*). Sometimes the show is a little misogynistic (but not as bad as Angel, holy fuck that show) and a little racist. Or a lot. The racial diversity of the show is laughable, I mean late 90s California? Even in the LA episode (Anne 3.01) LA is just - mostly white? *cackles* (As a palate cleanser here’s a nice gifset featuring POC characters on BTVS and ATS.)

7. Interesting Black characters are given the short shrift, including Mr. Trick in S3. Kendra deserved better but at least we got a little glimpse of her. If you’re following along at home and but also trying to limit your BTVS intake, I recommend the following non-Faith-appearance catchup episodes: 2.09 (Kendra appears), 2.10 (Kendra heavy), 2.11 (the Ted episode), 2.21 (Becoming Part 1 - Kendra re-appears), 2.22 (Becoming Part 2 - to finish off the season). And 3.01 honestly, because limiting intake can be difficult, LOL.

8. ifeveristoday lays it out in this good short post on Kendra’s role / lore on the show, and how it could be better.

9. herinsectreflections explains Kendra is not one of Buffy’s shadow selves. This gifset by fuffygifs shows the scene parallel.

10. Kendra locks up Angel. Delight in her power over him, the way she laughs at him.

11. I vividly remember the scene where Buffy slow-motion runs through the school, it’s in the show openers. But what I had forgotten until this rewatch was that it’s her running to get back to everyone in the library, after her chat with Angelus in the cemetery, and she finds Kendra dead. (Because of Dru’s hypnosis powers.) My memory of the slow-mo was that Buffy’s so badass, but now it’s tinged with sadness bc she was trying and then fails to help / save her friends, including Kendra. Although really the only long-term damage is Kendra. *grumble*

12. OK the main scene I want to review is when Buffy and Kendra say goodbye in 2.10. Buffy calls herself a freak, which is a real insult in her mind. Kendra reassures her “not the only freak.” And then Buffy goes to hug Kendra, but Kendra doesn’t hug. So Buffy doesn’t. Can you imagine where this didn’t happen, like Kendra is OK with hugs. And then when Buffy meets Faith she hugs her at some point (not right away). Gah! They never hug right? Or Buffy isn't feeling like she caused Kendra's death and she's more open with Faith? (spuffygifs has the full gifset)

I gotta admit they did have chemistry.

OK, a smattering of links to Kendra gifsets I found:

nerd4music

dailybtvs

original andremichaux

andremichaux with tags people left

13. OK, a few thoughts on 3.01 Anne. Already unrealistic when it aired (Buffy somehow affords a studio apt on a waitress salary?) it’s achingly unrealistic now, in terms of money. Like Buffy would need 3 waitressing-type jobs and she’d still have 4 roomates in a craaap 2 BR apt that was falling apart.

14. SMG is giving a master class in acting in SO much of BTVS. The moment when she revolts is brilliant. Check it here (credit to deansmom and harrietvane and isagrimorie) proof that SMG made the acting choice, that it wasn’t that detailed in the script. (read the prev tags too, all of this is brilliant) Also we already know Buffy but this introduction of herself is great, on par with Faith-introducing-herself levels here. (the whole deansmom gifset and tags really sets the mood pre-"aggressive chipper shit talker" Buffy introducing herself)

I am not great at finding gifs on tumblr. Here are some bonus ones for prev exhibits:

Faith accidentally punching Buffy in 3.04. (Eliza apparently actually punched SMG IRL)

Faith shooting her shot in 3.05

Buffy’s unsure reaction in 3.05

No rating for this exhibit bc there’s no Faith. (Exhibit C had a they love each other rating of 2 out of 5.) Next exhibit will cover episode 3.07 Revelations. Exhibit Ch has been submitted, the prosecution rests for the day.

#buffy rewatch #fuffy #buffy x faith #your honor they love each other #exhibit Ch your honor #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #kendra young #buffy summers #long post #chosen two #bonus post #your honor series

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lynxindisguise · 1 year

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Snippet from Ch. 2 of my Slytherin! Sirius x Bad Boy! Remus AU. Read the rest on ao3

Blacks do not care about ‘goodness.’ They care about greatness, excellence, superiority.

Sirius doesn’t find himself waiting in a hidden corner of the library out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn’t care if Lupin—who is now seven minutes late—passes his classes. He doesn’t even care about winning McGonagall’s approval. (Okay, he cares a little about that, but that’s not why doing this.)

No, Sirius is simply seeking something, anything, to relieve his excruciating boredom. Plus, Lupin is going to hate this, and he's hoping to extract a bit of joy from that.

But when the gangly delinquent finally arrives—now twelve minutes late—he looks more sheepish than anything. Sheepish and exhausted, that is, the most recent full moon having clearly taken its toll. Everything about him is rumpled, from his tawny hair to his ill-fitting uniform to his sallow skin. He reminds Sirius of a crumpled piece of parchment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, sinking into his chair. “Fell asleep after Charms.”

Sirius is suddenly assailed by the image of Lupin passed out atop a tangle of blankets, and he imagines tucking him in and smoothing his hair and—

He clears his throat. “Shall we get on with this, then?”

Lupin nods blearily. “My worst subjects are Transfiguration and Herbology, so if we could start with those—”

“We’re actually going to start with the basics,” Sirius cuts in, tone jarringly crisp in contrast with Lupin’s soft mumble.

“Sorry?”

“Spellcasting 101. Your grip is too loose, your posture is atrocious, and your pronunciation is shit. How you’ve gotten this far is beyond me.” (There’s a compliment in there, somewhere, if you squint.)

Lupin sits up, affronted. “I—my pronunciation is fine! Just because I don’t sound like the bloody queen—”

“This isn’t going to work if you’re going to get defensive—”

“You just insulted me! That’s not how you teach.”

“What do you know about teaching?”

“I know it doesn’t involve insulting your students.”

Sirius would argue that insults have fuelled his learning since he was a child, but he’s at least partially aware how fucked up that is, so he just huffs a sigh. “Would you like my help or not?”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Lupin mutters, shoulders curling forward. “I can get O’s on everything, and I’ll still never be able to hold down a proper job. Not for long.”

Sirius’s lips part helplessly. It should be a relief—Lupin acknowledging what he’s been too polite to say. But hearing it aloud just makes his chest ache. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs finally. “That’s shit.”

Lupin looks up, eyes round with surprise. “I… yeah. It is. Thanks.”

“For what?”

He looks back down, picking at his nails. “Just for… No one ever… I love James and Pete, but they always try to convince me everything will be okay. They don’t get it, especially James. He thinks everyone is like him.”

“… A massive twat?”

“Open-minded,” Lupin corrects, stifling a grin. “He wasn’t trying to embarrass you in Hogsmeade, you know. He really does just have a thing about taking in strays.”

“I’m not a stray,” he snaps, the picture of poise and not at all reminiscent of a cagey rescue dog.

“Sirius—”

He flinches at the sound of his name.

Even his ‘friends,’ usually called him Black. That’s where his value lay—in his identity as the Black heir. Regulus called him Siri before he called him nothing at all. And his parents… He was always ‘son’ to Orion, and ‘darling’ to Walburga, and when they did use his name, it was a hiss, a threat, the slice of a dagger across a sheet of ice.

It’s different coming from Lupin’s lips, something foreign and soft and achingly tender.

“Didn’t think anyone would ever accept me for what I was,” he pivots, sensing Sirius’s discomfort. “Did everything I could to push them away, but then they figured it out, and…” He smiles to himself, a gentle, fleeting thing that briefly softens all his harsh angles. “And I still hate it when they fuss over me, and half the time I’m convinced they’ll eventually get sick of my shit and leave… But I don’t think I’d make it alone. And I’m an introvert.”

It should make him cringe, such cliché, sentimental drivel. It does make him cringe, to the point of creating a burning sensation in his nose and behind his eyes…

“Stop trying to distract me, Lupin,” he sniffs. “We’re still fixing your grip.”

#wolfstar fanfic #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #dead gay wizards #current wip

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in-a-lot-of-fandoms-i-lost-count · 10 months

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About Me:

Name: Parker

Pronouns: they / them

Age: 25 years around the sun

Time Zone: West Coast (US)

Won’t Do: R.pe, d.ugs, in.est, swearing, anyone under 18.. sorry so be 20+, no Discord or anywhere else just on Tumblr sorry!

Will Do: Third POV, write maybe 3-5 sentences. (With swearing I’ll read and write it like ‘son of a b ch’ if needed but you can doesn’t bother me.), probably a thousand percent be down for lgbtq+ plots. Love au or canon or even something in middle of both.

Example: Dean was watching a movie about cowboys.. again. Hearing the doorbell he drank some beer before setting it by his remote. Running to the door he opened it and gasped at the blue eyed man with the pizza box. The guy’s name tag read Castiel and Dean looked back at the man taking the pizza boxes. “Thanks.” Dean said out loud but in his head he said ‘son of b ch he’s hot.’

I bolded who I prefer to be but we can figure out if you want to be them instead.

Supernatural: Dean and Castiel, Jody and Donna, Sam and Gabriel …

9–1–1: Buck and Eddie, Tyler Kennedy and Carlos, Hen and Karen, Judd and Grace, Josh and Ravi …

Atypical: Izzie and Casey …

Stranger Things: Steve and Eddie, Nancy and Robin, Eleven and Max, Will and Mike …

School Spirits: Maddie and Rhonda, Charley and Wally …

Shadowhunters: Magnus and Alec, Clary and Izzy, Simon and Raphael …

Marvel/DC: Harley and Ivy, Erik and Charles, Steve and Bucky, Eddie (Venom) and Wade (Deadpool), Kate and Yelena …

Shameless: Ian and Mickey …

Good Omens: Arizaphale and Crowley …

The Last of US: Bill and Frank …

Our Flag Means Death: Stede and Eddie, Jim and Oluwande, Lucius and Black Pete …

A League of Their Own: Bertie and Gracie, Greta and Carson …

Red, White & Royal Blue: Alex Claremont Diaz and Henry Fox Mountchristen

Heartstopper: Nick and Charlie, Darcy and Tara, Elle and Tao …

Teen Wolf: Stiles and Derek …

House of the Dragon: Rhaenyra and Alicent

Sooo yeah that’s all I can think of top of my head. Might add more to this list as I can think of more. Also if they are canon under 18 will make them 20+ cuz like again said don’t do minors. Even if like the ship don’t feel comfortable writing them their age cuz I am half way through my 20s lol soo yeah..

Thanks for reading and if this all sounds interesting message me. Be happy to start a journey of story telling. Also heads up sorry if I vanish sometimes. Promise I’m not ghost just you know life happens? I’ll get on promise but heads up life does get in the way too. Can’t always be fictional gotta be real too (bleh I know but eh haha.)

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50calmadeuce · 2 years

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Ch. 3: Beach Day

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

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The next afternoon, the squad met up at the beach behind The Hard Deck for some teamwork building. That consisted of a crazy game of dog fight football.

You had decided to wear your black TYR bikini that had a sports bra top and then boy shorts. The swimsuit showed off your toned and muscular body. Your shoulder length hair up in a ponytail. You held a beach bag on your left shoulder, and you wore a pair of Rayban Wayfarer sunglasses over your eyes.

The game was in full swing as you walked up to Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell who sat in a beach chair watching the squad.

"Good afternoon, Captain," you say as Phoenix waves at you. You wave back and catch a glimpse of Hangman. He's wearing a pair of black board shorts and black Rayban Wayfarer sunglasses just like yourself. His shirtless, tan muscular chest glistened in the sun from the sweat, and it sent a shiver of excitement you haven't felt in a long time between your legs. You notice him look at you briefly and then yell for the game to continue.

"Doctor, Y/N. Please, sit." He gestures at the chair next to him.

You take him up on his offer and sit in the chair. "Thank you, and please, Y/N is just fine. No need for formalities."

He laughed. "Phoenix said you would say that. You should be proud of your accomplishment."

"Oh, I am. It's just that on vacation, I like to keep it low key."

He laughed again. "With my position and years, I got nothing."

There was brief silence as you watched the game. You tried not to watch Hangman's every move, but your eyes continuously kept looking that way.

"He may be arrogant and cocky with one hell of an ego, but he's got a heart," Maverick assured.

"I'm sorry?" You look at him.

"Hangman." He nods his head towards him.

"Oh. I wouldn't know. I really wasn't paying attention to him," you contest.

Maverick chuckled. "Well, if you didn't notice him, he's definitely been noticing you." He stood up. "Excuse me." He walked toward The Hard Deck.

You turn your attention back to the game. Or try too anyway.

A few hours later, the sun had set, and you all sat around a bonfire on the beach. Phoenix sat next to Rooster across from you talking about who know what, but their body language was really making you question your best friend's relationship with him.

The warm weather had turned a bit chilly, and you felt a slight chill go through your body. You had put on a tank top, but it wasn't enough, so you crossed your arms and started rubbing them to get warm. Then you feel something being put on your shoulders and turn to see Hangman sit to your left as a blanket is put on your shoulders.

"Penny said you looked a bit chilled." He took a sip of his beer as you wrapped the blanket around you.

"Penny, huh?"

He grinned. "I may or may not have noticed too."

"Thanks." You say and look back at the fire.

#jake seresin x you #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun maverick hangman #spotify #Youtube

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callsign-magnolia · 1 year

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I posted 157 times in 2022

That's 157 more posts than 2021!

58 posts created (37%)

99 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@seresinhangmanjake

@sunlightmurdock

@ereardon

@roosterforme

@sweetlittlegingy

I tagged 40 of my posts in 2022

#bradley rooster bradshaw - 35 posts

#top gun maverick - 34 posts

#robert bob floyd - 33 posts

#bob floyd - 33 posts

#rooster top gun - 33 posts

#natasha trace - 32 posts

#pete maverick mitchell - 29 posts

#phoenix - 29 posts

#bradley bradshaw - 29 posts

#jake hangman seresin - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 52 characters

#may or may not be distracted by outer range on my tv

My Top Posts in 2022:

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 3

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 7.5k

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Things took a turn, good or bad I'm still not quite sure. A gala was being held in D.C., and I was required to be there as well as my father. Of course, I had to bring Aaron, much to my dismay. I had on a black strapless A-line dress, it couldn't be hemmed so I had to wear heels for once, making me a little taller than Aaron. "Remember we are here for me, so please, don't embarrass me Aaron." I said as we got out of the car to walk in, the cool spring Maryland air making me shiver slightly. "God, I'm not going to embarrass you. You're good at that yourself." I yanked his arm into mine, smiling widely. "Behave." I said lowly and he scoffed as we walked in, I looked around, finding my parents were not here yet.

Suddenly I spotted two old friends of my fathers. "Captain Mitchell, Admiral Kazansky." I said and they smiled as we walked over. I held out my hand for them to shake but Admiral Kazansky pushed it away. "We've known you since you were little Caila, no need for formalities tonight." Admiral Kazansky said kissing my cheek before Captain Mitchell pulled me into a hug. "And please, it's Ice and Maverick." I nodded. "So, what call sign did they give you?" Mav asked as he took a sip of his whiskey. "Magnolia." He nodded. "Very fitting." Ice nodded. "As your grandmother always said, pretty as a Magnolia in bloom." I smiled at him.

"Oh and this is my husband, Aaron Wilder." Aaron shook their hands, "Pleasure." He said in distaste and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. "So Mr. Wilder, what do you do?" He smirked. "Well Ice, I-" "That's Admiral Kazansky to you son." I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Admiral. I practice criminal law." Ice raised his eyebrows and nodded. "And uh, who is it you work for?" I still had Aaron's arm as he immediately went into work mode, going on and on about his firm. I couldn't stand it, I can't stand to here anymore about his job. I had zoned out as people walked by and he just kept going on, I would rather crash my jet into a mountain side or burn in than listen to it anymore.

That thought sent me reeling, I would rather be dead than listen to my own husband talk about his career. I glanced around and spotted a table full of alcohol, I turned back to find Mav and Ice both looking annoyed. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get a drink." I turned and Aaron pulled me back. "Get me a whiskey." It wasn't a question and I saw Maverick and Ice's eyes on me. I just turned and headed for the table, smirking as I saw someone very familiar approach the table. I walked over and grabbed a glass of champagne and slowly stood next to him. "Howdy stranger." I said as I took a sip of the bubbly drink. His head whipped around to me, fast enough to give him whiplash and he smiled widely. "Oh my god." He stared at me for a moment before pulling me into a tight hug. "Oh my god!"

The joy I felt in Rooster's arms was something I hadn't felt since he left the restaurant, the same day I got married. "Oh my god, I missed you." I said into his neck as he squeezed me. He set me down and took my hand as I took a step back. "Damn, I just- I have no words. Words can't describe how beautiful you look." A blush crept into my cheeks at his words. "Thank you, and look at you in your dress whites. Looks like life has been treating you well." He flashed me a small smile, "Something is different about you." I pursed my lips. "So, how was Top gun?" I asked and he stared down at me for a moment, he knew I was trying to change the conversation. "It was awesome, I graduated first in class." I smiled at him. "I knew you would, you're an amazing pilot." He smiled at me.

"So tell me, what have you been up to?" I shrugged. "A few shore duties. I did a special detachment in Guantanamo bay, then I was stationed in Greece for a few months. But I think my favorite was San Diego, I wasn't far from the beach and Phoenix wasn't far when she went to Top gun so I got to see her." He stared at me. "And your husband was all the way across the country, so you had freedom." I sighed. "Bradley, I'm so sorry about what he said to you the day you left. I was so angry when he told me-" "Caila, you don't have to apologize for him. You did nothing wrong." I sighed. "I just, I can't stand the way he acts sometimes." I said rubbing my hands down my face, until he grabbed my wrists. "Stop stressing about him, he seems to be busy anyway." I looked over and he was still talking to Maverick and Ice, who looked like they wanted to run the other way.

"I knew I should've left him at home." I said and Bradley chuckled before resting his hand on the small of my back. "I agree, I don't see how he's not glued to your side. If you were mine I don't think I'd be able to look away." I looked up to him, his face was so close all I had to do was lean up and I could kiss him. "There's my little girl!" I turned to see my father in his dress whites. "Hi daddy!" I rushed over as he pulled me into a hug. "You look beautiful, sweetheart." I smiled as he kissed my forehead. "Where's-" I was about to ask where mom was but she walked over, her red mermaid style dress making her blue eyes stand out. "Hi momma!" She squeezed me and kissed my cheek. "Sorry I got stopped by Sarah and you know how that goes, we can't shut up when we're together." I chuckled as Jameson came over. "Ugh, god you brought him!" I joked and my father glared at me. "Be nice to your brother." I caught sight of Bradley behind us, smiling at the interaction.

"Oh!" I rushed over, smiling widely. "Momma, daddy. This is Bradley, callsign Rooster." I said introducing him. He quickly saluted my father. "Admiral Motley." He addressed and my dad nodded, "At ease, Lieutenant." My dad took his hand and shook it. "How do you know my daughter?" I could've rolled my eyes, he was acting like he was my boyfriend to interrogate. "I met Lieutenant Motley when we were deployed together two years ago." My dad quirked a brow. "Motley? Last I checked her last name was Wilder." Bradley's eyes widened. "Oh uh, it's just I met her when her last name was Motley and I-" My dad busted out laughing. "It's alright son, if I had it my way it'd still be her last name!" My dad smacked him on the back. I grabbed my dad's arm, "Daddy." I said sternly and he sighed.

He looked to Rooster for a moment, staring at him. "You look so familiar, what's your last name Lieutenant?" I looked between them. "Bradshaw, sir." My dad stared at him for a moment before his eyes widened. "My god, are you Nick Bradshaw's son? Goose?" I furrowed my brows. "Sure am, sir. You knew him?" My dad nodded. "Knew him? He was my RIO before he was Mavericks! You're dad saved my life and then him and Carol snuck me into a concert and that's where I met my wife!" I smiled and looked up to Rooster who had a glint in his eye, not just tears but something else. "Wait, what?" Mom rushed over. "Gina, this is Nick and Carol's son, Bradley." My mom's jaw dropped. "Oh my god! I remember when Carol was pregnant with you, she told your dad at my show!" Our eyes widened with shock. "What?" Mom nodded. "I will pull down all my boxes when we go home, and I'll find that picture of your parents showing me the test. Oh, they were so excited!" A tear slipped down Bradley's cheek and my heart broke.

"Okay, maybe give him a second. Y'all just unloaded a lot of information on him." My parents nodded. "Of course, I'm going to find that husband of yours. We need to have a talk." I looked to where he was, standing with Ice and Maverick. My dad glared at him before marching over. "You want some air?" He nodded. "Come on." I turned him and looped my arm through his, walking him outside. "That was... a lot." He nodded as we stepped out onto the balcony. "I'm sorry, my parents are excitable people." He shook his head. "Don't apologize. It was nice to hear someone talk about my parents so animatedly. It's always, I'm sorry's. It was nice, just not what I was expecting for the night." I chuckled.

"Caila!" I turned to find my brother rushing over. "Hey, J. What's up?" He had glasses in his hand. "Got you another glass, and I figured Lieutenant Bradshaw here deserved a fresh whiskey. Because it seems without his parents you and I, might not be here." Rooster laughed. "I guess they are. Say isn't that, Aaron?" I looked inside and saw Aaron storming away from my dad, Maverick and Iceman. He turned until he spotted Rooster, Jameson and I and I could see in his eyes how angry he was. "Oh god." I muttered as he finally stepped outside and walked over. "Jason." Jameson glared at him, one fist clenched at his side and the other so tight on the lowball glass I feared it would shatter. "Hen." He said looking at Rooster. I could've punched him. "I need to talk to you." He said taking my arm tightly, pulling me away so fast I stumbled in my heels. "HEY!" I heard two voices yell as I caught myself and I turned, placing a hand on each of their chests.

"Don't. Please." I pleaded, I looked up at Jameson and he was searching my eyes. He knew it never helped to get in the middle of our arguments. I looked up to Rooster and saw him staring at Aaron. "Rooster, please." It took another minute before he took a step back. I turned back to Aaron and pulled him down to the far end of the balcony. "What in god's name has you so mad you decided to man handle me?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Man handle, I don't think I did enough. You're all over him, holding his arm, walking around with him like he's your husband and not me." I had my dress clenched in my hands. "You are my husband, your ring is on my hand." I said holding up my left hand. "It's not my fault you get insecure about yourself and this marriage. You don't see me running around worried your cheating on me, or me trying to keep you away from any other female." He scoffed, "I'm not worried about you cheating on me, no other man would want you."

That stung, it shouldn't have but it did. "We are here for me, for the navy. You, are my husband and if you can't stand here and support me, and other officers here, then you can go home. If you do, your shit better be out before I get home. Because when I do I won't be alone, and I will let Jameson get his hands on you and I will make sure you can't do anything about him." We stared at each other for a moment before I stood to my full height, just a little taller than him and spun on my heel. Swiftly walking back towards Jameson and Rooster, I smiled as I saw phoenix standing there in a silver sheath dress. I rushed over and pulled her into a hug, a few tears hitting her shoulder. "Shh, it's okay." One hand went around my back and the other around my shoulders. I pulled back to see Aaron was gone and I sighed, cleaning my cheeks. "Please tell me I don't look like a racoon." Phoenix chuckled and swiped her thumbs under my eyes. "No, you still look just as beautiful as a Magnolia in bloom." I chuckled and shoved her shoulder.

"Even if you did look like a racoon, still the prettiest racoon I ever saw." I chuckled and missed the look my brother shared between Bradley and I. "Okay let's get back in here and sit because I'm starved." I took Jameson's arm as Phoenix took Rooster's, we walked in and I could've died at the sight before me. There was my husband who seemed to be having the time of his life, talking to Hangman. "Kill me now." I muttered as Jameson and I walked towards our parents, Rooster and Phoenix continuing on. "Rooster." My dad said catching his attention, he turned and walked over with Phoenix still on his arm. "Sir?" My dad shook his head. "Where are you sitting?" Rooster looked around and pointed to the table over by Hangman and my husband. "Over there, sir."

"Not anymore, you're sitting with us. Come." My dad waved and he dropped Natasha's arm. "I hope there are no hard feelings Lieutenant Trace." My dad said with a smirk. "Never Admiral." It took a long time for Natasha to warm up to my dad. Outside of his uniform he is a joking man, a huge prankster. He tried to joke with Natasha a little at first and she was terrified to say anything, she only realized she could joke back and relax when my dad threatened to ground her, jokingly, unless she finally laughed at one of his jokes. "Oh leave Nat alone! How are you, honey?" Mom asked hugging her and kissing her cheek. "Wonderful Gina, how are you?"

"Sir if you don't mind, I'll walk Lieutenant Trace back to her table-" Rooster started but I cut in. "Don't bother, I'll go. I have to retrieve my husband anyway." I said. Nat and I walked over to the table Hangman was at. "Magnolia, my don't you look lovely." I raised an eyebrow. "Hangman, I see you've met my husband, Aaron." Hangman looked between us, "This, this is your husband?" He asked and I nodded. "Wow, you two make an interesting pair." He walked closer. "When you want a real man, you know how to get in touch with me." I wanted so badly to laugh, but I didn't. "Babe, it's time to eat. Come on." I said, holding my hand out to take. He glared before taking it and standing, I smiled at him before he tossed my hand to the side and stormed away. "Want me to kick his ass?" Phoenix said. "Can I help?" We both whipped around to look at him. "What? I have eyes. He's a piece of shit. I don't like him." I sighed. "If Hangman doesn't like him that says something." I said walking by when Hangman grabbed my arm. "I give you a hard time but I don't hate you. Even you don't deserve the way he treats you." I smiled at him. "Thank you Hangman."

"My offer still stands though, call me when you get rid of him." I couldn't help but giggle at his words. "Same old Hangman." I said walking back to my seat, which was between Bradley and my husband. As I approached Bradley stood, pulling my chair out, scooting it in as I sat in it. "Thank you, Lieutenant." I looked to him and saw his jaw tick, he had it clenched and I could see him oh so carefully adjusting himself in his pants. 'Oh!' I thought, I turned him on. I was quite proud of that knowing it was me who got him riled up. "You okay?" He asked, clearing his throat. "Yeah, my husband is just off somewhere havin' himself a hissy fit like a toddler." I said and Bradley chuckled. I was proud of that too, making him laugh.

~~~

After we ate and listened to a few speeches, they opened up the floor for dancing. Phoenix stole Rooster for a few dances, and my parents were dancing as well. My brother even found a girl to dance with. That left Aaron and I at the table, him scrolling on his phone and me downing my third glass of champagne. Good thing we ate.

"Are you su-" "I done told you. I'm not dancing, not with you." I was about to snap a remark when Rooster came over. "What are you two sitting around for? Your mom is about to do a few songs." I glared at Aaron. "Someone here won't get up and dance with me." Aaron groaned. "Can you not dance?" Rooster asked and I shook my head. "He can, he just refuses." I said drinking more champagne. We sat in silence for most of Kitty Kallen's 'It's Been a Long, Long Time', until finally Rooster stood from his seat. "May I have this dance?" I looked to his hand to Aaron who was now staring at me.

"I'd love too." I said looking to Rooster. I took his hand and he walked me out to the dance floor, taking my right hand in his and my left went on his shoulder while his right went on my waist. "Thank you." I said and he chuckled. "What kind of man would I be if I just let a girl as beautiful as you sit and pout all night?" I smiled at him. "You're a good man, Rooster. I hope whatever woman you end up with realizes how amazing you are." The song ended and Rooster and I stopped. "I'd love to introduce Mrs. Regina Motley, who has graciously agreed to sing a few songs for us." Iceman announced as mom walked on stage. "Thank you, Tom." Mom said as they exchanged a hug. The music started and I looked to Rooster, he smirked at me and yanked me back into his chest.

"I'm not letting you get away from me that fast." There was something in his tone, it made my heart jump. "This is one of my most favorite songs mom has ever sung." He smiled down at me. "Oh, yeah?" I nodded. "Sing for me." I shook my head. "No, I just want to enjoy this." I said resting my head on his shoulder. Mom's voice singing 'I Hope You Dance'. I listened to her as I just took in everything, I never wanted to leave this position. It felt like we were in our own little bubble, like no one else was around. Mom was wrapping up the song when Rooster caught my attention. "Mags." I looked up, smiling at the nickname, he's the only one who calls me Mags.

"There's something I have to tell you, something that I've been sitting with since I dropped you off at home when we got back from deployment." His hand holding mine moved closer, the hand on my waist tightening so much it scrunched part of my dress. He brought the hand he was holding up tp his lips, placing a chaste kiss on my knuckles. Oh, how I wanted him to kiss me. "Promise me you will listen to me, until I am done. No interruptions." I nodded. "Of course."

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24 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 21

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Word Count: 6.7k

Chapter 20

"Did you know?" I asked, walking up to my mom. She hung her head and I scoffed, "I didn't know, until after the mission. I noticed he was acting weird and when I asked he told me." I huffed. "But you knew, and you kept it from me." She nodded, her arms crossing over her chest. Her maroon dress bunching around her. "When he told me, I ripped into him. We didn't speak the entire way home, not on the plane, in the car. He slept in the guest room for two days, I was so mad." I don't know if she was trying to make me feel better, but it wasn't working.

"When we finally did talk, it was our biggest fight yet. We screamed, we yelled, hell I launched my chaco at him." I pursed my lips. "We have a big problem with throwing things when we're mad." She nodded. "I feel as mad as you. While I understand why he did it, you knew what you were getting into, very well, when you enlisted. He should not have grounded you, I know it and he does too. But before you were a Lieutenant, you were his little girl. Our youngest and frankly the one who gave me the hardest time during pregnancy. You scared us shitless a few times. You and your brother, are our entire world. When we almost lost you last year." She took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears.

"I knew it would break me, your my little girl, hell my best friend. But your father? I don't think he could've handled it. He didn't talk, didn't eat, didn't sleep. He was a shell of himself. I'm not saying what he did was right, because it's not. But he did it out of love." I licked my lips, tears streaming down my face. "I don't know if I can ever forgive him, mama." I said catching her eye. "Because by holding me back, Rooster and Maverick almost didn't come home. I know there's no guarantee I would've come home, but you two raised me to care about people. I would've happily burned in, if it meant that they got to come home." Mom leaned over, her hands resting on her knees, sobs wracking her body. I rested a hand on her back and after a moment she stood up.

"I am so proud of you, and I know it may take awhile to forgive your father, but just remember. He did it with your best interest at heart." I nodded and pulled her into a hug as she rubbed my back. "Caila?" I looked to see Jerry, slowly walking over. "I know this is a bad time and I know it's an emotional moment, but..." He trailed off. "But what?" He sighed. "Aaron just fired his lawyer." "WHAT?!" I grabbed mom, quietening her down. "So does that mean we're postponing the trial?" He shook his head. "He's representing himself." He shoulders fell, a shiver running up my spine.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Rooster asked, rushing over and placing his hand on my back. "Oh my god, he's pulling a Bundy." Rooster furrowed his brows. "What? Honey, you gotta tell me what's going on." "Aaron fired his lawyer, he's representing himself." Jerry nodded. "So what does that mean?" I rubbed my face, my hands going through my hair. "It means, that if he calls witnesses he will be questioning them. If he calls on her, he's asking the questions." Rooster shook his head. "No." I sighed, placing my hand on his arm. "Rooster." "No. I am not letting him fucking near you." I nodded. "I know. He is a really good lawyer, for others. He's a narcissist who thinks people should believe him, every word that comes out of his mouth. This... this is his down fall. So if he wants to try and get under my skin, then he can but everything that he has done will come out."

He shook his head, "After all the shit we've been through, you want to let him interrogate you like your the criminal?" I nodded. "If that's what it takes." He sighed. "You're a hell of a woman, you know that?" I nodded, grinning at him. "I've been told once or twice." He chuckled, his hand coming up to rest on my cheek. "God, I love you." I pulled him down into a kiss, my arms wrapping around his shoulders. His one hand stayed on my cheek while the other found my waist. "I'm gonna have to ask you two to not do that." I pulled away looking to find Aaron standing next to Jerry. He was glaring at us while Jerry looked down on him, his eyes narrowed almost snarling. Rooster grabbed my waist, pulling me impossibly close to him as he glared at Aaron.

"And all communication is to be through the lawyers, so you talk to me." Jerry said stepping in between us. "She is being sued for Alienation of Affection. It wouldn't look good to be seen with the man she cheated on me with." Jerry lips twitched, fighting a grin. "Noted. We'll see you in there." They stared at each other, challenging each other until Aaron nodded and walked away. "God, I want to kill him." Rooster muttered as he pressed his lips to my forehead. "I know." I placed my hand on his chest as Jerry faced us. "Ten minutes is almost up. Let's get back in there, he won't get the opportunity to take the stand until tomorrow." We nodded and followed him in. I was about to step through the gate when Rooster tugged me back into his chest, catching me off guard with a searing kiss. "I love you." He whispered, his forehead resting on mine. "I love you too."

I kissed him one more time before taking my seat next to Jerry. "I need a root canal after seeing you two." I chuckled. "Natasha said the same thing." Judge Durham came back in and sat down. "Okay we will proceed with the plaintiff, Mr. Polinski." Jerry stood again, "Miss Motley, would you join me?" I nodded, walking over to the stand. The bailiff came over standing in front of me. "Please raise your right hand." I did. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" I nodded. "I do." "You may proceed." Jerry nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets and giving me a kind smile. "We were discussing the domestic violence within the Wilder home. Now Miss Motley, you were called to attend the United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program, better known as Top Gun, correct?" I nodded. "You were in the middle of a deployment in Corpus Christi four years ago when you were given the letter, correct?"

"That is correct." He nodded. "You were given a weeks leave before you had to be there?" I nodded. "Yes." "And how did you use this leave?" I took a deep breath. "I went to go see my friend Natasha at her home in San Francisco." I caught her eye and she gave me a small smile. "Why did you not go home?" I grabbed the hem on my dress, trying not to shake. "I didn't want to go home. Things had gotten bad, I wasn't allowed to sleep in the bedroom, I was not allowed to speak unless spoken to." He sighed, nodding to me. "And what would happen if you went against any of those so called 'rules'?" The tears sprung to my eyes at the thought. "Aaron would yell, he would throw things. He would hit me."

"Any examples?" I nodded. "He threw a lowball glass one time, it shattered on my shoulder and I spent two weeks picking out the glass." He nodded, a sad look in his eyes. "And why did he throw the glass?" I could feel Aaron's eyes on me, boring into the side of my head. "He wanted me to sleep with him and I said no." There were some quiet gasps and murmurs, a tear slipped and I quickly wiped it away. "What did he do after he threw the glass?" I shook my head, Jerry knew and I didn't want to say it. Not out loud. He came close, whispering. "I know it's hard, but he can't hurt you. This will help us get him." I nodded, taking a deep breath. "He uh-he came over, grabbed me by the back of my neck. He dragged me over to the back of the couch, forced me over it. He ripped a hole in my leggings and..." I stopped, struggling to find the words. I caught Rooster's eye. His eyes were glassy but he nodded, mouthing an 'I Love You'.

"He forced himself on me." I rushed out, tears covering my cheeks. "Objection." Aaron said, standing. "Explain." Judge Durham did not look happy, one bit. "You can't sexually assault the person your married too." My jaw dropped, as did everyone else's. "Overruled." He said and Aaron's face turned red. "Are you sure you don't want to hire other council, Mr. Wilder?" He huffed. "I have this handled." The Judge gave me a look that said, 'What were you thinking marrying him?' "Moving on, so you went to stay with Lieutenant Trace before you went to Top Gun. How did you spend that time? How did you get to Top Gun after?" I pursed my lips, keeping the tears at bay. "I called my mother and she had my car shipped to San Francisco and she flew out with some of my stuff." He nodded, motioning me to keep going.

"Natasha, my mother Regina and I all went out. We went to a few clubs, a few bars. Um, the next day was just a relaxing day there were a few conversations that ended in tears." He nodded. "And what were those conversations about?" "Rooster-Bradley. At the gala, I told him to stay away from me, leave me alone and Natasha told me later it... hurt him, a lot. I never actually wanted to hurt him, I just wanted to keep him away. It had made Aaron so mad and I just... I didn't want him mad, I couldn't have him mad at me." I inhaled deeply, trying to soothe myself.

"While Natasha and I were talking about him, he facetimed her." Jerry perked up, "And what did he say?" "He asked me the usual questions about how I was doing. Then he um, he told me how beautiful I was." My face heated up at the confession. "What next?" A smile crept up on my face at the memory. "He told me, if I wanted, all I had to do was ask and he would drop everything and fly out to meet me." I bit my lip at the memory. "And what did you say?" "That I couldn't ask him to do that. He told me again and I considered it." He nodded. "And did you eventually give in?" I nodded. "All I said was please and he packed a bag and caught a red eye to San Francisco."

I heard a few awes in the crowd, making me blush. I looked to Rooster and he was rubbing the back of his neck, which had a pink tint. "What happened when he arrived?" I bit my lip. "Natasha and I met him at the airport before going out to dinner. We had a few drinks, got back to Natasha's. Bradley felt the scar on the back of my shoulder from the lowball." "And how did he react?" I bit my lip. "He was angry, he wanted to catch a flight to Atlanta." Jerry nodded as he paced in front of me. "Why?"

"He wanted to hurt Aaron." He nodded and I glanced to Aaron, he was seething. "Why didn't he go?" I thought back on it. He easily could've pushed past me and went out the door, but he didn't. "I blocked the door, and I told him I was filing for divorce." Jerry threw his hands out. "And why did that divorce not go through?" "Aaron knew the lawyer. The lawyer called him and told him, and he blocked it." I wanted to crawl out of my skin, the looks of pity were too much. I could handle them before, but now, it was like I was under fire. "So, you spent the weekend with Mr. Bradshaw and Miss Trace, with the promise of meeting Mr. Bradshaw at Norfolk international after you graduated from Top Gun?" I nodded. "But those plans changed when Aaron showed up and attacked you." I nodded again.

"He tossed me into the wall, held me in a chokehold, and threatened me. He broke my phone, giving me one that he kept when we were together, he monitored it, making sure I didn't add any numbers that he didn't recognize. That's also where he told me he was having Bradley followed." Jerry nodded. "You may step down." I got up, walking back to the table, finding Rooster's eyes on the way. Whether he knew it or not, his presence helped tremendously. The little nods of encouragement, the small words of affirmation, those were things that made this easy. Not my parents, not the team, not the knowing that if we win this Aaron will spend a long time in prison.

Him. Him supporting me, loving me, protecting me. That was what made this easier. "Miss Motley wanted out of her marriage, long before she started seeing Mr. Bradshaw. Her husband cheated on her repeatedly over the course of multiple deployments and still blocked her request for a divorce. She was forced to live in a loveless marriage, in a home that she couldn't even speak in. Now, let's take our focus off of Bradley and bring our focus back to Aaron. I'd like to call to the stand my next witness, Lieutenant Jake Seresin." I immediately knew where this was going, I wanted to sink back in my chair.

Jake walked over, being sworn in before crossing his ankle over his knee and leaning back, a smirk on his face. "Mr. Seresin, when was the first time you officially met Mr. Wilder?" Don't get cocky Jake, don't. "At the gala, the same one that he made Caila leave with him from." Jerry nodded. "What was the topic of conversation?" Jake's face shifted, a hard look settling on his chiseled features. "Originally it was how embarrassing he thought Caila was. I told him we don't talk about ladies like that where I'm from. So, he very unhappily changed the conversation to his job." Jerry nodded. "What were some things he said about Miss Motley?"

"He was going on about how it was un-lady like for her to walk with another man, her father invited Bradley to sit with them for the dinner, and he was going on about how he was going to make sure she stayed away from him." Jerry stopped pacing, turning to Jake. "Did he give details on how he would do that?" Jake shook his head with a frown. "Let's move on, the second time you met Mr. Wilder was actually at Miss Motley's Top Gun graduation?" He nodded. "He interrupted our conversation, he placed his hand on her shoulder and she froze. I could see the fear wash over her, her face turned white, she started sweating. I knew then that something wasn't right so I steered the conversation towards me." Jerry nodded. "And what did he say?"

"He mentioned how proud he was, but that she would be ending her career soon. He didn't like her being gone so much, he said he 'had to keep her home.'" Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of staying home with him all the time, I couldn't do it, I knew that. "So the next time you saw him, that was New Years Eve two years ago?" Jake took a deep breath, nodding. "What happened at this party?"

"My oldest sister Kim and her husband throw a New Years Eve party every year. This was the first one after Laura, my other sister married Caila's brother Jameson, so she invited his family. Their parents came, as well as Caila and Aaron. I greeted Caila at the door with a hug, the same way I did her mother and Laura. I saw the look on Aaron's face and he wasn't happy but as soon as Caila pulled away he had a smile on his face. All throughout the night we were just drinking and having a good time. But I noticed he had kept her close all night, which wouldn't be odd but the grip he had. I noticed fresh bruises after an hour." I took a chance and glanced at Aaron, he was rubbing his face, angry.

"At about one a.m. she got up and went to the kitchen, she was fairly sober but Aaron was drunk, he followed her. I gave it a minute and peeked in on them, just to check. I looked around the corner and saw he had her pinned to the island by her throat, a knife pointed between her eyes." I held my breath, no one but those that were there knew about that. "She was... begging him to let her go. Come to find out it was because she hugged me and spoke to me." I knew Hangman felt bad about it, he still sort of felt like it was his fault and no matter how many times I told him otherwise, he never truly believed me.

"I stepped in and he let her go and dropped the knife. By the time everyone else stepped in they were yelling at each other. She took a step back towards me and he threw the glass he had, it broke and part of it hit her on the side of her head." I subconsciously touched my head, feeling the small bump that caused so much blood to fall down the side of my face. "All hell kinda broke loose at that point, everyone was swinging, pushing them apart. Laura held Caila off to the side while her dad and Jameson threw him out." I closed my eyes, hoping to push down the emotions that flooded me.

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24 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 4

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why! Also posting for like the third time today because @rosiahills22 & @mak-32 are just spurring me on tonight!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter 3

"So what happened last night?" I looked down at Phoenix's phone, flat, facing the ceiling. Rooster had a smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with this innocence that made him look like a child interested in a toy on a shelf. "Um," I picked up the phone, leaning against her couch as I continued to sit in the floor. "We went out last night, Phoenix, mom and I." His eyebrows shot up. "Your mom?" I nodded. "Yeah it was... the most fun I've had in awhile." I said giving him a small smile. "So who had to be carried home? I know at least between you and Phoenix one of you did." He said chuckling, making me laugh. "My mom." His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Your mom? Regina Motley, being carried home?" I nodded. "It took two extra hours to get here because Phoenix and I were plastered ourselves." He laughed. "That's hilarious and not safe. I'm glad your okay." I smiled at him. "So uh, how've you been?" I bit my lip. "Better." He nodded. "How's uh..." I pursed my lips. "Don't ask questions you don't want to ask Bradley." He nodded, I looked out the window for a minute before looking back at the phone to see Bradley staring at me. "What?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "You just-even after you crying you're still just so-" "Don't. Please don't tell me how beautiful I am." "And why not?" I sighed, wiping a few tears that slipped. "Because, it makes me want you." His tongue darted out to wet his lips as I sat curled against Phoenix's couch. "You tell me, that you want me to come out there, and I will drop everything and catch the next flight to San Francisco."

I shook my head. "I can't ask you to do that." He was staring at me, his eyes unreadable. "Then don't ask. Just say please, and I will be on my way." I stared at him, and he held my gaze. "Just give me the first syllable." A tear fell from his eye, and I opened my mouth before closing it. I propped my fist on my chin, looking back out the window. This is my chance, I have my car, all my important belongings, my husband still thinks I am in Corpus Christi. "Caila." I looked back to the phone, seeing his eyes all glassy. "I have spent, the last year worrying about you, every damn day." More tears gather in my eyes. "Not knowing if you were okay has been the hardest thing to deal with in my day to day life. I don't want to keep living like this, I can't."

I inhaled deeply, so tired of crying. This is my chance, if I don't take it I know I will regret it. I looked back down to see Rooster wiping his eyes and I smiled at him. "Rooster." He looked at me intensely. "Please." He suddenly jumped up. "Stay on the phone." He was rummaging around and I saw a shirt fly over the phone and smiled. After about ten minutes he picked the phone up again, showing me his duffel bag. "I am leaving for the airport right now. I will text you all my flight information." I bit my lip and smiled at him. "Are we really doing this?" He nodded as he closed his front door behind him. "We sure are, you sit tight pretty girl. I'm coming for you." More tears fell at his words. "I'll see you when you land Rooster." He smiled at me. "I can't wait to see you." I smiled. "I can't wait to see you either." The call ended and that's when the panic set in.

What if Aaron found out, he could still end our careers. Is it really worth costing Rooster everything? Is my selfishness worth it? "Hey, hey, hey! You're going to cause the floor to fall in if you keep pacing like this." I turned to phoenix who grabbed my arm. "What's wrong?" It was time to come clean. "I said yes." Phoenix seemed confused. "Yes? Yes, to what?" I held up her phone. "Bradley." Her eyes widened. "Wait? You mean-" "I mean, I said 'go', and now he is on his way to the airport and is purchasing a ticket to fly to San Francisco to come see me." She placed her hands over her mouth in shock. "You did?" I nodded as she came over and pulled me into a hug. My chin resting easily on her shoulder as she was an inch taller than my five foot six frame.

"And I think I need to tell you why I walked away at the gala last year." We sat on the couch and she took my hand. "Aaron said if I left him, he would pin me for adultery." She pursed her lips. "Which is punishable by dishonorable discharge in the Navy." I nodded. "I would give up my career for Rooster, I'd lose everything for him." She nodded and squeezed my hand. "But Aaron threatened to pin him for it as well. Losing everything for him is worth it, but costing him everything? Being the reason he loses it all? I couldn't do that to him." She inhaled deeply.

"Yeah, but there's no way he can pin that. It's just an allegation." I shook my head. "Do you remember that bouquet of flowers he got me in Australia?" She nodded, how could anyone forget? "Yeah." "I dried them out and I have them in a box in my closet. Aaron found them and took pictures. He also took pictures of the gold studs in my ears, I never take them out except for the one time and he pulled out the box and everything. He has enough to pin us." Phoenix sighed and squeezed my hand. "I would rather him hate me and still be able to do the one thing he has worked so hard for, then love me and lose everything." She pulled my head down on her shoulder.

"Rooster would rather love you and have to work night shift at a gas station, than lose you and continue his career." I shook my head. "But I can't live with being the reason, 'Nix. I can't." I was backsliding. "Maybe I should tell him to stay home." She snatched her phone from me. "NO!" She yelled and I was shocked. "If you cancel on him, then you'll go back to Aaron. You will die, Caila. He is breaking you down and if you stay with him much longer, you won't survive." I teared up remembering my thoughts from the gala. "Over the past year, I've been having some... dark thoughts."

Phoenix gripped my hand tighter, and forced me to look at her. "Caila, you have to tell someone." I shook my head. "It's only when I'm at home, not when I'm gone or if he's gone. When we're apart it's like my life is bliss because he doesn't even care enough to call, but when we're together at home it's like." I choked up, "It's like there's no end to my misery. Like I'm going to be trapped forever, forced to live in a house where I can't speak unless spoken to, I can't sleep in my own bed." I slumped on the couch as Phoenix stared at me. "I'm so tired of the fighting, and the yelling, and the shoving, and breaking glasses." At his point I was sobbing once more. "I'm so tired of being scared in my own house, and if I don't get out Phoenix. I know I'm going to do something that I will regret if I fail." She stared at me before yanking me into a hug. "I'm here, in whatever you need Caila. But promise me, that as soon as possible you call a lawyer and get a divorce." I nodded as my phone buzzed with a text from an unsaved number.

Flight leaves in an hour. My red eye lands at SFO in five hours and thirty minutes. I'll see you so soon, pretty girl.

In almost seven hours, Rooster would be here. I showed Phoenix the text and she squealed in excitement.

I can't wait, I'm so excited to see you too.

~~~

Those seven hours dragged by but Phoenix and I made use of it by searching divorce lawyers back home. It took a lot of vetting to make sure no one would know my husband, because they would run their mouths. "Hi, my name is Caila Wilder. I was hoping to have some papers drawn up to divorce my husband." God, I sounded too happy to be doing this. "Okay, is there anyway you could come into the office? We can't legally draw up the papers over the phone." My heart sank. "Yes, it will have to be a few months though. I'm away for work for awhile."

I managed to schedule an appointment half an hour before we had to leave for the airport. "I have an appointment to file for divorce." I said shocked. "You're finally doing something for you." I smiled at her. "Now, let's go get you your man." She said snatching her keys and my hand, dragging me out to her car. We drove in silence but of course my nervous habits kicked in and I was pulling on my fingers. We arrived and we sat in the lounge, waiting. I couldn't sit for long though, I began pacing and Phoenix kept grabbing my dress to stop me.

"If you keep tuggin' on it, it's gonna stretch!" My southern accent was thicker when I was stressed or angry. "Caila, look." She pointed and I saw sandy colored curls peeking through the crowd. It took a minute but people started moving out of the way, and there he was. Light wash jeans, white tank top under a Hawaiian shirt. His aviator glasses hanging from his shirt and his dog tags bouncing off his chest. He had his duffel hanging over his shoulder, and a large smile plastered on his face.

I couldn't help but stare at him as he got closer, somehow Rooster became the embodiment of everything good I needed in my life right now. "I am so videoing this." I whipped around to Phoenix, "Do not post it! If-" "I'm not." She said grabbing my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What's this?" I turned to see Rooster standing about twenty feet away. "I fly all the way out here and I don't have the prettiest girl in the state of California leaping into my arms?" I chuckled and stepped forward when he stopped me. "No, wait!" I stopped and he smirked. Turning around and walking away, it felt like an eternity before I could barely see his head in the crowd. "OKAY!" I laughed in embarrassment but took off anyway.

As soon as he was in view he dropped the duffel and opened his arms. I launched myself at him, making him stumble backwards. His arms wrapped around my waist and mine went around his neck. I breathed deeply, inhaling his cologne. "I have missed you somethin' fierce, for so long Rooster." He chuckled. "Oh, pretty girl. I have missed you for so much longer." He shifted me up so his arms were wrapped around my thighs, making me giggle. "Oh, music to my ears." I rested a hand on each cheek. "Hey, Rooster?" He smiled at me. "Yes?" I bit my lip. "I really, really wanna kiss you." His smile grew wide. "Then kiss me, honey." I smiled and leaned down, kissing him gently. His lips were much softer than I imagined, he smiled into the kiss before giving me a spin making me laugh.

Slowly he set me on my feet before leaning down and kissing me again. "You. Have. No. Idea. How. Long. I. Have. Waited. For. This." He said in between kisses. His arms wound tightly around my waist as I cradled his face. "I didn't know it until now, but I've been waiting too." Phoenix walked over with a huge smile on her face. "That was so sweet I think I need a root canal!" Rooster motioned her over and he pulled her into a tight hug.

As he pulled away his arm slipped around my waist, pulling me close again. "So how long are you here for?" He pursed his lips. "I have to be back on Monday." It was Friday evening, so we only get two days together. He looked down to me and smiled before running a hand through my hair. "We'll make the best of it though." I smiled at him as we left the airport, shoving Rooster in the back seat. "So, we hitting the bars tonight?" Phoenix and I both groaned at his words. "God no! We can go sit in a bar at a restaurant but no, no bars." Phoenix said making Rooster and I laugh. "Yeah, I can't handle another migraine."

~~~

We found restaurant that had a live band, and amazing food. I reached over to Phoenix's plate and stole a few fries, the look she gave me screamed murder. "What some of my shrimp?" She eyed me for a second before stealing some. "They're good." Rooster said while his hand rested on my knee, giving it a comfortable squeeze. I nodded and glanced up to him, he has a smile on his face as he sipped on his beer. "What?" He asked and I gave him a small smile. "I'm just glad you're here." He smiled and leaned down to kiss me. "Like I told you, just say the word." I chuckled as we went back to eating.

I noticed a few girls at the bar, they kept turning around and looking at us. I thought they were looking at Rooster for a minute but then I recognized them. "Shit, stage five clingers from last night. ten o'clock." I said and Phoenix looked up and caught their gaze. "What's wrong?" Rooster asked, moving his hand to the inside of my thigh, squeezing gently. "Those girls kept following us last night, huge fans of mom and she just kept talking to them and now they think we're friends or something." I said and looked over, seeing them get up, drinks in hand.

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26 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

I Hope You Dance // Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

44 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Girl Crush

Content Warning: Angst, cursing

This could be based off Little Big Town's 'Girl Crush', I only realized it after I wrote it.

Summary: Being friends with Rooster since childhood was amazing, the feelings that came with it were not.

Masterlist | Flashbacks

I stared down into the clear liquid filling my glass, the sinking feeling in my stomach growing. I knew he was behind me, across the bar with the blonde he’s been gushing about the last two weeks. He decided to introduce her to our friends, they’ll love her, I know it. She is sweet, she’s kind, she’s beautiful, and dammit what I wouldn’t give to be her. For years I have been there, every time he left for deployment, every time he came home, I moved in with him so he wouldn’t be alone after his mom passed. I’ve always been there, since we were kids. So why was I not enough for him?

Suddenly I felt a large but gentle hand on my lower back, and I went rigid. I had hoped he wouldn’t see me, but I guess maybe I didn’t blend in as well as I thought. “Hey, I thought you weren’t feeling good?” Don’t look up, dammit, don’t look at him. “Hey.” His knuckle bumped under my chin, telling me to look at him. I just kept my head down, if I looked at him I don’t know if I’d cry, run away, or kiss him. “Look at me, please.” This time he grabbed my chin, turning my face towards him. Immediately my vision shifted to his eyes, those brown eyes that looked like puddles of chocolate ice cream he loved to indulge himself in occasionally. “I thought you were sick? I was gonna bring you some nuggets when we left.”

This was one reason I loved him, no matter what he always made time for those he cared for. “I felt better, wanted a shot.” He pursed his lips, nodding his head. I knew what he was thinking. If I wanted a shot, I easily could’ve pulled down the bottle of ‘Grey Goose’ he bought me last year. Thankfully, he never mentioned it and I didn’t have to feel embarrassed. “Why don’t you come join us? Katy is having so much fun with everyone. Plus she adores you.” I shook my head. “Nah, I’m not up for a big hang out. Think I’ll just take my shot and go home.” He sighed, turning to Jenny, our bartender. “Two more, Jen?” She nodded, pulling out two bottles from the cooler. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I nodded. “Absolutely.” He sighed, taking the two beers.

“You’ll let me know when you get home?” I nodded, twisting my glass on the bar top. “Yeah.” He leaned down, kissing my head. “Be careful, okay?” I nodded, wishing he’d stay close for another minute just so I could smell his cologne a little longer. He gave me one last look before walking away. I swallowed the tears, tossing the vodka back, the burn stinging my throat. I turned to look behind me, regretting it immediately. She had both of her hands wrapped around his waist, beer in hand. One of his held her waist, the other had settled into the back pocket of her jeans. He said something that made her giggle, leaning down to kiss her lips.

At that I turned back to the bar, seeing the shot glass had been refilled. “You look like you could use one for the road.” I nodded, tossing it back as well. “He loves you, sweetie. He just hasn’t realized it yet.” I pursed my lips, giving her a small nod, not quite believing her. “Night, Jen.” I slid her the money for the shots before walking outside to my car. I took one last look up to the pool table where they were standing. They were turned, talking to our friends, his arm around her waist and her arm around his shoulder, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

Tears flooded my eyes, I couldn’t look at them anymore. I yanked my car door open, almost hitting the car next to me. I got in, slamming the door closed as the sobs wracked my body. I leaned my head back on the headrest, hoping to soothe myself with no such luck. What did she have that I didn’t? Why wasn’t I good enough for him? I slammed my hands on the steering wheel, my emotions overriding my conscious. When I could finally breathe I started the car, backing out of the parking spot and speeding back to my apartment. I hated myself for not saying anything sooner, I waited too long and he found someone else. If only I could tell him now, then maybe, just maybe, I’d have a chance. Little did I know, he just witnessed my breakdown in the bar parking lot.

76 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

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dynamoe · 2 years

Text

BACK for the first time since March!

on AO3 | Pro | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 |Ch 4| Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 ...Ch 10

“I’m not hearing any murder yet,” Pete whined, cranky, “You flubbed a spelling bee and your mom was getting some… who cares?” He sipped from his third or fourth Tsingtao. He couldn’t speak Vietnamese like Billy but he could gesture well enough to hold up and point at an empty bottle.

“Did you not hear that this motherfucker threatened me? At THE Magic Pan, it’s nearly sacrilege!” Billy wasn’t matching him beer-for-beer but was definitely sozzled enough to get fight-y.

“False memory. You can’t remember back that far. You can’t remember why you turned the oven on most days.”

“I have an eidetic memory. That’s how I’m a boy genius, dumbass. Perfect recall.”

“Your mom thought you were a genius from all the fluid in your head.”

“Yeah, well, my mother believed in a lot of things that turned out to be bullshit,” Billy spat.

The scar-faced waiter was looking cagey, staring over his shoulder as the card game was breaking up for the night.

“I think they want us to leave. Pay the bill, White”

“No way. You pay the bill.”

“I can’t carry a wallet in these short pants. The pockets are too shallow. It’ll ruin the line”

Pete rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just… look away for a second.”

“Why?”

Pete unzipped his fly and stuck his hand down the back of his jeans.

“Oh Jesus, REALLY? Why do you still have all your money up THERE?”

REVENGE Professor Peebo Putnam looked over the smoldering husk of his Jaguar XJ. The (bloody) doors – blown off. Four round headlights burst by the heat of the explosion, the chrome grill curling in on itself. He ran over the asphalt, broken glass crunching under his shoes; to pick up his leaping-cat hood ornament, charred black and blown 50 feet away by the power of the blast.

His jaw dropped, horrified. Who could have done this to such a beautiful, expensive car? He looked all around him in a panic before locking eyes with young Billy in the back of a Volvo station wagon slowly pulling away. Peering back under the shadow of long orange bangs, two emotionally-dead, cold eyes— like a doll’s eyes— telegraphed the message: Today the Jag. Tomorrow… you.

“I’m getting ahead of myself. That was a couple years after we moved, “ present-day Billy explained, trying to reassure White that carnage was coming, but he had to give a little more context.

"Tease tease tease," White mumbled, pulling up his trousers.

Billy and Pete trudged up the hill back to their hotel, just drunk enough to be testy but too tired to actually argue.

“I think there’s still water trapped inside,” Billy said, shaking his robot hand next to his ear, “I’m gonna have to put it in a box of rice overnight.”

“Get back to the revenge story, short stack,” Pete sniped, already winded by the up-and-down pitch of the Seattle streetscape, “Only 28 blocks to walk before we’re back at the hotel.”

Billy scowled, “Ok, fine. So the next couple years were more of the same. Boy Genius tournaments and publicity stunts on the weekend. I started normal kindergarten, first, second grade at the local public school. The school work was way too easy, obviously—”

“GRAPE job!” Pete gave a thumb’s up.

“— but my coordination and motor skills were crap. I even failed ‘hop on one foot’ on my kindergarten report card!”

Pete made a sad face and gave a thumb’s down, “KNOT your best work. See me.”

“And I didn’t know how to talk to other kids in a way they’d understand. ‘Poorly socialized’ they said,” Billy air-quoted with disgust, “Like I was a dog that shat on the carpet and humped the mailman.”

“I’d like to see you hump a mailman. Would you buy him dinner first?” Pete mused, ignored by Billy.

“After I got a 1600 on SAT when I was 5, my mom convinced the local community college to let me audit classes as long as I didn’t claim credit towards a degree. Then in the summers I got to drive into the City and do a full load of courses at Stuyvesant University which ruled because then I didn’t have to attend mom’s dance classes like I did the rest of the year. Professor Peebo said—”

“Hey, let’s go in there,” Pete cut him off, pointing at a glass fronted café in an industrial building across the street.

“You want coffee NOW? It’s like… 9 PM.”

“When in Rome, caffeinate as the Romans do, “ Pete shouted back as he jaywalked across four lanes of road. Billy walked up a block to the nearest crosswalk and followed at his own pace, always respectful of the rules of the road.

The name of the shop was painted in day-glo blobby, swirly kind of lettering that usually indicated a Fruitopia beverage or a Deee-Lite album:

“What the fuck is an 'internet cafe?'” Billy asked out loud before walking in.

Billy knew what a cafe was, of course. Duh. He was ahead of the curve on “internet,” they had a dial-up modem in the trailer. He was a dab hand at USENET forums and a respected commentator on several message board communities. But why bring “cafe” into it.

Billy found Pete waiting in line, studying the menu board, written in the same loopy neo-psychedelic script as the cafe sign.

“There’s a method to my madness” Pete confided “Old people universally can not stay up late. They just conk out right at 7 PM. It’s a law of nature… and thermodynamics, probably.”

“Uh huh,” Billy humored him. At least it might sober them up a little. Even though he had only nursed a couple Tsingtaos over dinner but his undersized volume meant that he was something like 10% alcohol by weight and feeling logy.

“So the later we linger the greater chance that this Strokeface von Powerchair has already turned in for the night by the time we’re back at the hotel. We can put off the confrontation until tomorrow at least.”

“Cowardly AND lazy,” Billy noted, “A perfect plan.”

“I didn’t survive this long with everyone hating me without picking up a few strategies, pally,” Pete winked.

“Coffee gives me the galloping trots, but I'm half in the bag anyway. I'm spending all night over the toilet no matter what. Might as well make it a toss-up over which way I'm facing.”

“You're tired. You always get nasty when you're tired,” Pete dismissed.

He read off the menu board, “Every coffee comes with 60 minutes of in-house internet use on our T-1 connection. Claim an email address on harsh-realm-dot-com for an additional buck.”

“Ooh, I can get my own email address!” Billy brightened.

“You already have one.”

“Yeah but that's, like, '@ prodigy' or '@ CompuServe.' So lame. So suburban.”

“Fuck it. I'll make you an email address. I know how to do that. Easy.”

“Just like you 'make us a website,' like you said you would six months ago.”

“I'm working on it. I need to... set up some permissions… on the DNS.”

“Liar. Did you even buy the domain? Do we own 'e-ConjecturalTechnologies-dot-com' like I asked you to get.”

“I started to but…” Pete struggled to remember, “I think I was mad at you for something and bought 'BillyCanEatThePeanutsOutofMyShit-dot-com' instead.”

“What the fuck! Why would you buy that?”

“I know! I wanted BillyCanEatThePeanutsOutofMyShit-dot-EDU because I'm teachin' classes in it! Up high!” Pete raised his hand for a a high five.

Billy rolled his eyes as they made their way to the front of the line.

The barista leaned over to smile at Billy, “Sweet outfit. You in a band, kid?”

Billy’s suit was barely holding together after the dunk in the fountain, the dash across town and half of his pho landed on his jacket instead in his mouth, His smooth blow-dried mushroom cut to put in "in character" of an 11-year old smarty-pants had dried into weird clumps, center parted. Maybe it gave his whole look the grungy lived-in authenticity of an ironic stage costume.

The barista had enough studs and rings in her face to set off a metal detector just like he did: nose, eyebrow, lip, a dozen rings in each ear and a click in her speech that betrayed at least one ring in the tongue. Those were just the ones from the neck up, Billy's mind boggled but he only smiled back dumbly. He’d like to give HER a pat-down at the airport some time. Before Billy could drunkenly say something to get them both arrested, Pete jumped in, “He's in a ska cover band of AC/DC. He's the Angus Young... Skangus Young.”

The barista looked instantly disgusted.

“You shook me SKAAAAlll night long,” Pete sang.

“Pick it up. Pick it up,” Billy chimed in.

The barista rolled her eyes and took their orders. Pete found them a table while Billy waited for the coffee.

The cafe room of tables, chairs and a few sofas seemed both industrial and weirdly cosy. A cement floored loft lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves overstuffed with books, but also criss-crossed with extension cords and cables. Something electronic and repetitive played at a low drone over the sound system.

“Weird place,” Billy scanned the room.

“It’s a collectively-owned community art space for media, activism, the arts and cyber education,” Pete held up a flyer, “They have a printed FAQ on every table.”

“So are they nerds or are they hippies?” Billy straining to categorize the subculture. He saw a bank of inter-wired 286s in a side room with a cluster of geeks engaged in what was either a video game or making spreadsheets.

“Hey, check out the weirdie-beardies in the back,” Pete said, gesturing to two dudes hunched over a tiny table, definitely closer to “homeless vagrant” than “hip slacker” on the spectrum. They scratched their chins in tandem and stared over a chessboard. Each move seemed to take ten minutes of deliberation, the two in their own bubble not even aware of the coffee shop around them.

“Whaddya say I challenge the winner?” Pete asked with a crooked grin, pouring a sixth packet of sugar into his Americano with five shots of espresso.

“Do you even know how to play chess?”

Pete scoffed, “I think the 10,000 logged games of Battle Chess on my 286 would testify that I do. Thank you very much.”

“How many of those games did you finish and how many were you cranking it to the pixel-boobs of the Queen-takes-Knight animation?” Billy said dryly, looking into his mocha.

Pete screwed up his face, but didn't offer a denial.

Billy laid out the situation, “There are a lot of sub-classes of boy genius—“

“— Ranger, Cleric, Mage, Bard—“

“Don't even start on that Gygax bullshit,” Billy snapped and pressed on with his analysis, “The first thing any boy genius learn up at your first Mathletics Meet-Up or Quiz Bowl Tournament is NEVER fuck with the chess guys,” Billy cautioned.

“Those guys don't look like Boy Genius alumni, Billy,” Pete said, “One of them's wearing a garbage bag as a dress.” One of the players mimed hitting an invisible time clock at the end of his turn.

“They're also using parts from a smashed game of Mousetrap as chess pieces, but this still rule applies,” Billy continued, “Chess guys take all the 'processing power' in their brains, diverting it from basic OS function, and hone it all to one point: Chess.” Billy put it in a metaphor Pete would understand.

“Overclocked,” Pete muttered in fearful admiration.

“The really good ones don't know how a doorknob works but if you enter their arena, you're toast. Worse— if you, by some fluke, you actually take a piece or, god help you, actually win a game, they will freak the fuck out.”

“So...” Pete clarified, “I shouldn't ask for a game?”

“Bold contrasting patterns is how nature says 'don't touch.' As true of the Poison Dart Frog of Guyana as it is for the black and white squares of the chessboard,” Billy mused poetically.

“Poetry slam doesn’t start for another twenty minutes,” Pete said pointing to a chalkboard schedule on the small stage in the back of the room, “I'm not giving you snaps unless you go through official channels.”

“I totally could do narration for a Nature special though, right?” Billy complimented himself, “Look out, Marty Stouffer!”

“Until they got to the episode on snakes, serpents and spotted seals of the seven seas,” Pete noted, “Finish your damn story already. And there better be carnage.”

“How I got on this old bastard’s bad side,” Billy leaned in, “My mom still was totally gaga over him and followed all of his directives about having me enter trivia contests and science fairs and pageants and shit,”

“Pageants? Boy Genius Pageants, really,” Pete smirked.

“Oh yeah. There were four local circuits and two national ones. Ones that mattered, anyway," Billy sniffed, "They all claimed it was about awarding scholarships and promoting excellence in academic achievement. Total baloney. There was a written test and a Q&A but the cutest kid always won. Oversized glasses with big sparkly eyes, bunny teeth, and perfect hair, prancing around in his adorable bowtie.” Billy grumbled at the memory.

“Sounds like some scars haven’t healed yet,” Pete noted dryly over the lip of his coffee cup.

“There was absolutely NO REASON for a swimsuit round in a so-called contest of academic achievement," Billy suddenly shouted.

Pete tried to calm him. He reached over the table to lay a hand on his shoulder, "Ssssh ssshhh. You're right, fella. You're absolutely right, but let's keep some proportion in here, pally."

“I was a big-headed fat kid— no way I can rock a speedo,” muttered Billy bitterly, “I looked like… those bad guys in Super Mario.”

“Koopa Troopas,” White pronounced totally accurately, the Nintendo localization team having preemptively removed any “R”s from the name for his accent’s convenience.

“No, those are the turtle guys you jump on. I meant the mushroom-lookin’ ones.”

“Oh, Goombahs.”

“Yeah, that was me. I was a Goombah. 90% head. Spherical body and a mushroom cap of a bowl cut on top,” Billy frowned, “Top three in the trivia, interview and evening wear, but the swimsuit round totally killed my average. I always absolutely dominated the talent competition, too."

“You have always been a man of many talents,” White observed.

“Dig the set up— you got a ton of boy geniuses playing Chopin on the violin. Bo-ring. Like we all didn’t play the violin, right? Then you got some weird ones. Like, bird calls and shadow puppets. Some kid memorized The Constitution and recited it from memory. Plays well with the Texas crowd, I guess,” Billy mused, getting lost in analyzing competition from years ago, “Recitation in general. Poems. Great speeches in History.“

“This coffee is wicked awesome,” said Pete ignoring him, wide-eyed with pupils like pinholes, “I’m gonna get another one. And a Maple Long John.”

“You’ll be bouncing off the walls,” Billy nagged, but Pete was already up from the table.

“Only a half-a-cup. I promise,” Pete reassured Billy as he nearly leapt to the barista counter.

“I never could have gotten away with just reading a poem,” Billy said to himself, “Mom always wanted me to sparkle. Mom wanted me to… DANCE.”

[INSERT: WAVY FULL-SCREEN LAP DISSOLVE TO TRANSITION TO FLASHBACK] Stage directions don’t belong in prose fiction but I’ll writing one in anyway. Deal.

“Maaaaaahhhmmmm,” Li'l Billy droned as he trudged onto stage, “The unitard is too long.” His feet were crammed into what would have been the knees of the spangly bodysuit while its floppy fabric shins and actual feet dragged behind him like a train. The neckline was stretched from Li’l Billy forcing his melon-like head through it, giving him daring décolletage for a 7-year-old, but the lacy cravat of the full costume would cover it.

“Let me see, water-baby,” his mother beckoned him over, “That's an easy fix. Just scrunch them up. See? The leg warmers will cover all this.” she said as she worked the loose spandex up into bunches at his ankles, making him look more like a clipped poodle with pom-pom feet than the cat he was supposed to be embodying.

“Dancching around like an idiot is not a good use of my tremendousch intelligencche,” Li’l Billy griped.

“What have I told you about little boy geniuses who only study science, technology engineering, and mathematics and neglect the arts and humanities?”

“They grow up to be schupervillainsch .”

“...They grow up to be supervillains,” Rose joined, saying it with him, “We need our genius to be well-rounded and be complemented by empathy. The arts teach us to FEEL.”

“I feel like a big schtupid butthead,” Li’l Billy muttered under his breath, tugging at the legs of his catsuit and getting into position.

—

“I'm a kitty,” Li’l Billy whispered to himself in the wings, an elementary school take on method acting to psyche himself up for his cue.

As the kindergarten prodigy on stage bowed after playing Chopin's Étude Op. 25, No. 6 (*snooze*) and was ushered off, the MC announced “Billy Whalen, from Washington DC,” to a round of polite applause.

His backing music started on the sound system as Billy pranced to center stage, did a couple standing leaps, squatting mid-air so his heels nearly touched his butt (a move way harder than it looked; something adult Billy would blame for his creaking joints twenty years later).

“Preschto!” Li’l Billy sang.

The black velveteen unitard and leg warmers from rehearsal now joined by a sequined tuxedo jacket and frill-fronted dickie and cravat around his neck, finished white gloves and white capezios— the Great White Way’s glitzy interpretation of a black-and-white tuxedo cat.

He is quiet and schmall He is black From the earsch to the tip of his tail He can creep through the tiniescht crack He can walk on the narrowescht rail

And you'll all schay: Oh! Well I never! Wasch there ever A cat scho clever as magical Mr. Mischtoffeleesch!

Oh! Well I never! Wasch there ever A cat scho clever as magical Mr. Mischtoffeleesch!

After the pageant organizers nixed setting up 200 feet of ramps and track for their tribute to Starlight Express, this number from Cats was the compromise Billy and his mother settled on as his talent.

Master Billy Mistoffelees pointed left and triggered the flash-pot, setting off a small explosion of light and noise and a cloud of silver glitter. He did another standing jump and pointed right— another flash-pot boomed. He removed a rainbow-colored streamer from his pocket and waved it in the air like a rhythmic gymnast as he bounded around the entire stage and into the audience, leaping and spinning: barrel rolls with a few fouetté en tournant for a touch of class.

He stopped in front of the judges' table and fanned a deck of cards. The confused judge pulled out a card, showed it to the audience, and put it back in the pack while Li’l Billy over-exaggeratedly looked away to sing another chorus of his song. Magical Master Mistoffe-Billy nodded thanks, vocalizing a little “meow,” before climbing back on the stage. He pointed to his right and set off another flash-pot, which might have been overkill as flash-pot fatigue was setting in on the audience.

The recorded music reached a crescendo. The dozens of hidden LEDs in his tuxedo jacket switched on (wiring the circuit into the fabric was Billy’s only solo contribution to the act. He burnt himself twice with the soldering iron.) , turning him into a twinkling star field on the semi-darkened stage.

The pre-recorded voice of his mother announced:

Ladies and gentlemen I give you the marvelous Magical… Mister…. Mistoffelees!

Billy ramped up into his big finish— a standing backflip into a mid-air twirl landing with his back to the crowd. In the middle of his jacket’s back, outlined in red LEDs was the card— Ace of Diamonds. The crowd exploded in thunderous applause.

(The audience was so impressed they forgot the Judge's card was actually the 11 of Spades.)

[INSERT: WAVY FULL-SCREEN LAP DISSOLVE BACK TO PRESENT]

“I still lost that year. Second-runner up," Billy remembered, "What a crock of shit! Where else are you going to see a combination of acrobatics, close-up magic and Andrew Lloyd Webber performed by a three-foot-high kid with a 178 IQ? But some precious little darling with a proportionate-sized skull got the crown. Another triumph for unrealistic beauty standards!"

Billy fumed, took a last sip of coffee,“Really, only my mom pushed me to do those live contest things; Putnam didn't care — just laser-focused on getting me on TV. I got a lot of ink in the papers and a few local news ‘And Finally’ pops, but anything less than a feature segment on segment on That’s Incredible or Real People didn’t count to him.”

Pete was still gone, had probably not heard any of the story. Billy couldn't see him in line at the counter and looked around before spotting him across the room in intense negotiation with some guy in an oversized back sweater near the stage. Pete had his “emergency cash roll” already in hand and he looked back at Billy to give a thumb’s up and pointed at the chalkboard announcing the imminent start of the Poetry Slam.

“What’s that fucking moron doing now?” Billy mumbled.

This is the first new chapter since March. I'd like to wrap this story up pretty quickly but I am staying true to my plan to not actually plan ahead and the MO is "more talk, little action."

I'm just declaring this installment #10 to match up with AO3 (which counts the prologue as 1, and splits this chapter across 9 and 10)

Tumblr crashes when I try to add color (make the whole flashback purple) so I've stopped trying fancy formatting. I've lost this post entirely! What's up, Tumblr?

The (what might possibly be) world's first "internet cafe" opened in Seattle in 1994 — Speakeasy Cafe. The name "Harsh Realm" is a different '90s Seattle in-joke.

I also failed hop on one foot in kindergarten

I saw Cats when I was 7 and I think I liked it. It was insanely popular in the early 1980s, there were Cats PSAs about smoking and car seats. Revisiting it now as an adult for research... it's kinda dumb and the songs are bad (except Mr. Mistoffelees). Weird coincidence— I did a Christmas portrait commission for a couple who met while playing Mister Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger in the 1990s touring company of Cats

If I'm not careful, this could turn into an endless series of chapters of Li'l Billy's crap childhood and Rose alternately love-bombing and psychologically abusing him. I can't forget the core aim of writing this was scenes of Pete and Billy arguing and insulting each other. The fan base loves Pete and tolerates Billy, but no one likes Li'l Billy (because he looks like a Family Circus kid)

Save your eyes and read this on AO3. Your comments motivate me to keep writing.

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myheadsgonenumb · 8 months

Text

Murder of the Hogwarts Express: ch 6

A Marauders' Era interactive Murder Mystery

previous chapter

The results are in!

An interesting result: Only the Black brothers were deemed to be above suspicion, everyone else picked up one or two votes (including poor Mary MacDonald who hasn't actually even appeared in the story yet). Still no overall majority, but the second most popular choice was for accidental death on 28%, but the largest vote went to the rat, the spy, the betrayer, Peter Pettigrew, who was deemed the most suspicious by 36% of you.

So, let's find out who was right and get on with the final chapter!

Chapter 6: (Chocolate Frog) Cards on the Table

James closed the door and looked around; he had gathered all his suspects inside his own compartment; the Gryffindors sat on one side, their expressions a range of politely interested (Remus), irritated (Lily) and afraid (Pete), while the Slytherins sat across from them, all sneering and feigning disinterest.

‘A murder has been committed on this train,’ James told them all solemnly (the Slytherins and Lily rolled their eyes), ‘a murder which may seem like a spur of the moment thrill kill but which has undercurrents and tentacles reaching all the way back to Lord Voldemort himself.’ (Squeezed beside the window, Mary MacDonald - who seemed astounded by her whole situation - shuddered at the sound of the Dark Lord’s name.)

James went to grab his lapels, but was only wearing a t-shirt so just grabbed material instead, and bobbed up and down importantly on his tip toes. ‘For all this crime was committed in haste, undignified and with little finesse, it is a part of a conspiracy, a conspiracy which has already claimed the life of one employee of the Gudrun Gumdrop company, killed by Death Eaters unknown, and which has now taken our own Trolley Witch - who is sadly missed.’ (His stomach gave a rumble as if to emphasise his point.)

‘It took me a while to see it, to understand… until something you said, Sirius.’

‘Me?’

James nodded.

‘More likely - she’s not a Slytherin snot. Either of them could be Voldemort’s spy - it’s right up their street,’ Sirius snorted. ‘It could even be both of them - working together.’

‘The idea that the killer was not working alone gave me pause for thought,’ he continued. ‘We know now that there were two groups of people trying to find a Chocolate Frog Card in a haystack - there were Dumbledore’s people, Lily and that poncy slime Caradoc…’

‘I told you not to mention… and Caradoc is not a poncy slime!’

James ignored her as if there had been no interruption, ‘and of course,’ he lifted up the newspaper, the one Sirius and Remus had been using for the crossword in what seemed like a lifetime ago, and showed everyone the front page:

Death Eaters in Dumbledore’s Domain

The Dark Lord Believed to Have Sent Spies to Hogwarts.

’ Voldemort’s spies, planted among the students to feed back to their master every move Dumbledore makes.’

Mary had shuddered again. Regulus was starting to look interested despite himself, but Snape, Mulciber and Avery were still coldly sneering. James did not let them put him off his stride.

‘I have realised there is more than one spy for Voldemort working on this train, and that they have worked together to keep their identities hidden. I know who the killer is, and it breaks my heart because it is someone very dear to me, but first I need to confirm something… Snivellus-’

He swung around and fixed his stare on his least favourite person.

‘It wasn’t me Potter, and you’re not pinning it on me!’ Snape started, hotly, but James held up a hand to silence him.

‘Be quiet - you absolute git - and listen to the question. What did you really see on your trip to the toilet?’

‘He saw Pettigrew grab my arse,’ Mary MacDonald said indignantly. ‘Half the train saw.’

‘But that’s not all, is it?’ James asked, keeping his eyes trained on Snape, who shook his head.

‘No… before he … assaulted MacDonald, I saw Pettigrew open your trunk and shove something inside.’

James nodded, ‘Mary’s compartment was right by the luggage racks,’ he said quietly.

‘What?’ Regulus’s eyes had narrowed. ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

Peter had gone very pale, ‘Precisely!’ he agreed, ‘what has that got to do with anything? And where were Sirius and Remus? Why is Remus’s t-shirt on inside out? We’ve never had a satisfactory explanation.’

All eyes fell on Remus and Sirius, who blushed and looked anywhere but at each other.

‘I… don’t know where they were,’ James admitted. ‘But that doesn’t matter because they have nothing to do with it.’ He bobbed up and down on his toes again. ‘This is how it happened:

‘Dumbledore’s spy discovered the identities of those that Voldemort had planted into Hogwarts and wrote them down on a list, which he shoved into a Chocolate Frog box for safekeeping. He was murdered before it could be passed on and the consignment of sweets was sent to King’s Cross ready for the Hogwarts’ Express. That absolute useless cretin “Caradoc”-’

‘Why did you make sarcastic air quotes with your fingers?’

But James ignored her, ‘was too late to intercept them - so he doffed his chapeau to Evans in order to tell her he had ballsed it all up and was leaving her to clean up his mess…’

‘We work as a team - it’s not…’

‘Evans settled herself into her compartment,’ James continued, speaking up so as to drown Lily out, ‘and that is when Voldemort’s plan was sprung into action.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘It was no coincidence that Mulciber and Avery came in here and attacked us,’ he told his friends. ’They came here specifically to keep us busy while the Trolley Witch was killed, give the killer some cover to find that list - but who were they covering up for?’

He swung back to eyeball the Slytherins, ‘Snivellus? Who dropped his blood stained hanky at the scene of the crime. Or maybe Regulus? The pureblood nutter who scrapbooks clippings about Voldemort and draws love hearts around them.’

‘I don’t -’

‘Or Lily?’ his gaze raked back over the Gryffindors. ‘Perhaps a spy working both sides. Or McDonald who -’

‘Look, I don’t even know why I’m here,’ Mary interrupted him.

‘There was a third conspirator, of that we can be certain. But why - beyond our general brilliance - would snots like Mulciber and Avery choose to distract us in particular, while they covered up for the killer, if it was one of those I mentioned? No…’ he shook his head. ‘Mulciber and Avery came into this compartment because the killer was already in here … which brings me back to Pete, rooting around in my trunk.’

‘Preposterous!’ Peter squeaked, ‘... far fetched…’ but his little eyes kept flicking towards the closed door of the compartment, as if seeking escape.

‘Not quite so far-fetched as you might think, Pete,’ James said sadly. ‘When Mulciber and Avery came into our apartment…’

‘You didn’t squeak in fear and run away because of Mulciber and Avery - you squeaked in fear and ran away because of this:’

He shook the front page of the newspaper in Peter’s face.

‘Lord Voldemort was talking directly inside of your head, telling you to get on with the job, telling you what to do…’

‘Well I never… never heard anything so…’ Peter’s skin had gone the colour of old porridge now.

‘So you ran from the compartment, knowing Mulciber and Avery would buy you time before you were missed, and grabbed my invisibility cloak from my trunk then, wearing the cloak, you went down to the last compartment to find the Trolley Witch’s trolley. Perhaps you hoped to manage it without killing her, perhaps you thought you would find the trolley unattended. But she was there - and so she had to die. And…’

Peter - seizing an opportunity, took a cauldron cake from the trolley and crammed it into his mouth - whereupon he immediately started to choke.

‘You haven’t the skill to use the killing curse,’ James told him, ‘but who knows better than you how easy it is to choke? You, who stuff too much in your mouth with every bite you take. So you grabbed a pumpkin pasty and forced it down her throat. She probably wasn’t even dead by the time you started searching through the Chocolate Frog boxes for the list, strewing them around the place as you hunted.’

‘I… no one can believe this? Remus? Sirius?’ Peter appealed to his friends, but they only blinked back at him, and then turned to James to hear more.

‘By now, Evans thought it was safe for her to go and find the Trolley Witch, and she headed down the train. You had barely finished your search when she arrived. But - luckily for you - you were still under the cloak.’

‘And then I became aware of a presence in the compartment. Besides me and the Trolley Witch, I mean. Only I couldn’t see anyone else. And then someone - someone I couldn’t see - barged into me, nearly knocked me over - and I screamed, and the door slammed, and I realised I was now alone… but that the killer had been in there with me

‘You got away without being seen, though you were overheard, leaving Evans behind to begin a fruitless search of her own. You passed Regulus on the way back - he had heard Lily cry out and the door slam shut, but the train jolted, and he fell over and you passed by without his realising you were there.

‘And then you returned to the luggage rack, took off the cloak and put it away again - being seen by Sniv in the process, though you didn’t know that - and, just when you finished, Mary came out of her compartment. Perhaps you thought she might have seen what you were doing… perhaps you just wanted an alibi - but you took the opportunity to grab her, so she yelled at you - causing a scene - and so no one would forget that, while you were out of our compartment, you had been with her - and she would not remember she had seen you in my trunk, if indeed she had. Scene over, alibi found, you came back - discovered Remus and Sirius were missing and have been trying to shift the blame onto them ever since.’

‘Well, where were they?’

But James continued as if he hadn’t heard. ‘Meanwhile, Regulus, in his arse kissing attempt to buy crystallised pineapple for Slughorn, had arrived at the end compartment. He looked through the window and - ‘

‘I saw… well the Trolley Witch was dead on the floor, all glassy eyes and pastry flakes everywhere and there were all these Chocolate Frog boxes surrounding her and then there was a figure - a dark figure, huddled on the ground searching through the boxes. That’s all I saw - just a figure… They were scrabbling through the boxes, picking up the Chocolate Frog Cards and throwing them aside. And then they cried out - like they were in pain. I smelled … blood. I suppose. An iron tang on the air. And then I turned and ran away.’

‘It was Evans, Reg saw in the compartment - not the killer - still searching for her fallen compatriot’s list. She cut her hand and took out her hanky to stem the blood… Only it isn’t really her hanky. Is it Snivellus?’

All eyes flicked back to Snape, who cleared his throat. His eyes glittered coldly. ‘No - it’s mine. I lent it to her - not long - not long before we… fell out. I never got it back.’

‘But you recognised it when I showed it to you?’

He took the handkerchief off the end of Sirius’s wand and examined it… but whatever he saw must have disturbed him, because his face suddenly paled - going the splodgy grey colour of old porridge.

‘We’ve got you bang to rights and you know it,’ James said.

‘No - er - this hanky… I - er - I… lost it months ago.’ (He went bright red as he said that.)

Snivellus nodded.

‘And - thinking Evans was getting mixed up in something more dangerous than she could handle, you waited until we were out of your way and went to confront her about it.’

‘I told you I don’t want to talk to you - ever. Stay away from me or I’ll hex you,’

Snivellus nodded again.

‘But - back to the timeline,’ James said, suddenly veering back to his tale. ‘Lily cut open her hand and tied it up in a hanky, and continued searching, until she hears footsteps coming from further down the train. Enter the dashing hero of this story.’

(Lily snorted)

‘But - fearing it was the killer returned, Evans fled and hid in a nearby compartment.’

A little ahead of him, he heard a carriage door suddenly slam shut - but that was the only sign of life.

‘She dropped the hanky on her way out, and stayed hidden while I arrived, and called for Sirius and then - once we were inside the compartment investigating:’

Sirius squatted down, registering as he did the sound of a distant door opening and shutting, footsteps… and realised that the rest of the train were still getting on with their day, looking forward to going back to Hogwarts.

‘She left her hiding place and slipped back among the other passengers, asking Mary - who was still recovering from her assault by Peter - to tie up her hand:’

‘... Sliced the damn thing right open…’ they heard Evans say.

‘And the rest is very nearly history, apart from one moment - when we were interrogating Regulus:’

‘I smelled … blood. I suppose. An iron tang on the air. And then I turned and ran away.’

‘What?’ Peter asked (his voice seemed very loud in the quiet that Regulus’s story seemed to have cast like a spell over the carriage).

Reg frowned. ‘I smelled blood and ran away.’

‘Your voice was very loud,’ James told Peter, ‘and that’s because you weren’t questioning Regulus. That was just your cover. Your cover for the fact that Lord Voldemort himself was speaking inside your head again - wanting an update. So, you bit into your licorice, pretended to choke and excused yourself. Once you came back you were very keen that we give up investigating - let the grownups handle it … and that’s because your master had just told you to keep us from poking around.’

‘I - well… er… I… alright, what makes you think this?’ Peter asked. And he looked around the compartment as if trying to garner some support. ‘This is all very complicated - I could have taken the cloak for any reason… no proof I was near the Trolley Witch… what on earth tips you off to the fact I did anything?’

James looked at him rather sadly and took out the Chocolate Frog card he had just picked up back in the end compartment. ‘This:’ he said.

Everyone strained to read it:

Damocles Rowle, 2nd Minister for Magic 1718-1726

‘I don’t understand,’ Peter said, though he was pale and sweaty.

‘It was just as we were leaving Regulus’s compartment,’ James told him. ‘You said…’

‘He was wrong though, wasn’t he? It wasn’t Ullick Gamp who decreed that law, it was his successor - Damocles Rowle, and he was censured for it by the International Confederation of Wizards. I would have expected better from a ponce like Reg…’

‘I thought it was strange at the time - you knowing a fact like that. It wasn’t until I saw it on the card that I realised… You knew it because you had just read it, not an hour before. You had seen it on one of the Chocolate Frog cards as you were searching for the list. It was you under the cloak, Pete, it was you who killed the Trolley Witch and bumped into Evans and who has been trying to blame Remus and Sirius ever since, and there is only one way I can prove it - once and for all… Accio list!’

He flourished his wand and a scrap of paper flew out of Peter’s jeans’ pocket, Sirius snatched it from the air, unfolded it and - to an expectant and apprehensive compartment - read out:

‘The Dark Lord’s spies at Hogwarts

Julian Mulciber

Gaius Avery and

Peter Pettigrew’

‘No!’ Peter cried out, as if the reading of this list was a death sentence. But Mulciber and Avery pulled out their wands, seemingly intent on battling their way out. They were outnumbered and outmatched though and it was only moments later, amid a cloud of smoke and sparks, that the three spies found themselves bound and gagged and then being rolled out of the compartment to be stashed in the luggage racks, ready to be dealt with once they reached school.

Lily and Mary, and Snape and Regulus returned to their own compartments, leaving James, Sirius and Remus alone. James dusted his hands together. ‘Good result,’ he said. ‘It’s a shame about Pete, but…’

‘He’ll go to Azkaban,’ Sirius said. ‘Rather him than me.’

‘There is one thing I still don’t understand though,’ said James frowning. He took out another Chocolate Frog and bit into it. ‘Where did you two get to for all that time? And why is Remus’s T-shirt on inside out?’

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, they were blushing. ‘We might as well tell him, ‘Sirius said.

‘He’ll find out sooner or later.’

They reached out and … held hands! ‘Prongs, mate, we have something we need to tell you…’

And - though he was Hogwarts’ greatest detective, James Potter could only goggle in amazement as his best friends in the whole world told him a secret he had never even suspected.

Mischief Managed

Thank you to everyone for reading along and voting over the past six days. It's been a lot of fun, and the next chapters couldn't have been written without your input . And well done to everyone who suspected Peter.

Happy back to Hogwarts day everybody!

#marauders era #marauders #murder mystery #marauders fanfic #interactive fanfic #polls #harry potter #detective james potter #murder on the hogwarts express

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