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bahrtofane · 2 months

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here we go again - pt.3

pt. 1 , pt.2

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. or will you? can things be forgiven?

Word count - 1.9K +

Watch it - reader so sad but dw bae it gets better ! jude. Just jude. hehehe

—--

Madrid is bleak and bland when you get back, eager to find a routine, to busy yourself with anything, everything.

It's almost like there's a big joke being played on you because you're given Jude to create promotional posters for. It makes you want to cry, but you suck it up, download the pictures and get to work. Even if you have to scribble his face out the whole time.

Avoiding Jude becomes your obsession. You make it your top priority to avoid seeing him in person under any and all costs. You refuse to go anywhere near the stadium, training facilities. Blocking official accounts and avoiding tv when you know they're set to play.

You find jude everywhere. In the cracks of sidewalks where flowers bloom. Inside coffee shops when the smell of vanilla hits your face, under bridges where graffiti of smiley faces litter the concrete.

His presence looms over the city like a specter, mocking your attempts to move on. You long for the day when his memory no longer haunts you, when you can walk through Madrid without feeling his presence at every turn.

Until then, you cling to the hope that time will heal the wounds he left behind, and that one day, you'll be able to reclaim the city as your own. But for now, Madrid remains a bleak and lonely place, haunted by the ghost of a love lost.

—-

Trent calls you about a week after you land, in the middle of your morning routine.

“How are you?”

You stifle a sigh, picking at your nails, “I'm really just peachy Trent,” padding over to your kitchen, opening the fridge.

“You know what I mean.”

You grab what you need, using your hip to close the fridge “I don't know why you keep calling me Trent. I'm fine. Tell jude to fuck off yeah?”

You hear a sigh from the other end, “jude has nothing to do with me checking up on you.”

“Sure.” you hang up. And he doesn’t call again.

—--

The office is always full of energy on match days, and you hate how it's become a tradition to all watch together. Weather in the stands or from the actual office. Your desire to show up in a barca jersey is very very strong.

Today is one day where you walk single file to the stadium and find your seats. Curse working for madrid, it brings you a little too close to the pitch for comfort. You spend half the game on your phone, even when your coworkers gently nudge your shoulder when Jude speeds to the post, you mumble something about work that needs to be done (you're on your settings.)

Jude scores, of course he does. And it's a beautiful goal, straight power, nothing but net. You're up cheering before you can stop yourself, smiling. You're smiling at Jude scoring.

He jogs over to the crowd per usual, caught up in the adrenaline. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to scoring at home. The feeling is unbeatable. His eyes scan the crowd, and they just so happen to land on you.

You're here? The cheers of the crowd fade out, his arms falling to his side, he's staring right at you. He's taken back to the night he left you alone. He’s a fucking idiot. You don't look away, if anything you lean forward in your seat. You're here.

—--

Against better judgment he goes looking for you after the game. Running down hallways still in his kit, looking a mess with grass stuck all over him. At least he managed to kick his cleats off and grab the nearest slides he could find. He's pretty sure these aren't his but he doesn't care. Not right now.

He knows the staff tend to hang around after games, the issue is where.

Curse the never ending construction. The place is a maze, an awful one without, with it feels like he's entering a different dimension at every turn.

He hears laughing and speeds down to find himself in a lounge full of people, all who rush to him to sing praises. He smiles. Trying not to get blinded by flash photography. A voice cuts through the crowd, a soft laugh.

You're here. Oh you're here.

He sees you tuck a piece of paper into a folder, smiling softly, patting the back of what he assumes to be a coworker as you make your way to the exit.

He tries to get past the people who surround him, but you're already gone. He's lost you again, all while you were right in front of him.

He goes home that night unable to sleep, eat, think. He blames himself, of course he does. It's his fault isn't it?

Somewhere during his night routine he thinks that there's an ounce of hope to fix this.

He calls trent.

“I don't know man.” Trent mumbles on the other end.

“I gotta at least try right?”

There's a beat of silence that lasts a moment too long, “if that's what you want.”

Jude thanks him for his time anyway. Tucking himself into bed.

He scrolls through instagram on his burner account, finding your account again. The request button taunts him, but he knows you wont accept. Instead clicking on your profile picture, watching it take up his screen and he sighs. He really has to get his life together doesn't he.

—--

The next time Jude sees you is at an event. Black tie in a nearby hotel. He misses getting ready with you for these, with all your products and accessories lining his sink while he watched you fondly.

“Do I look okay?” you would ask each time, leaning a hand on the sink while the other smoothed down the creases on your dress. Doing a once over in his mirror.

He would hum softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “you look amazing.”

You'd blush, swatting him away playfully. Pressing a kiss to his cheek and promising to see him there.

The same mirror now stares back at him cooly. His sink is empty, as his house is. He misses the smell of your perfume, your clothes that littered his space. He misses how you made it a home.

He sees you there all the same, mingling with your coworkers. You look amazing, that hasn't changed. The dark circles under your eyes have, two purple half moons stamped rather aggressively on your skin. How long has it been since you got proper nights rest jeez.

He makes his rounds to everyone. Brand ambassadors, staff, teammates, a list of high profile people he doesn't care to repeat. He leaves your little corner last on purpose. He doesn't want anything to get in the way.

He slides over to where you hug a glass of water to your chest, nodding along to something a man in a blue suit is saying. Pfft blue what a rookie choice. Jude is in all black, did you notice? It was your favorite on him.

You did notice, and try to suppress the desire to hurl when he walks over to you.

Jude gets to say no more than a sloppy greeting in Spanish before he's grabbed by the arm and taken back to where he thinks the owner of the hotel is standing.

You sigh in relief, and he sighs in frustration.

Fate has driven you apart once more it seems.

—--

Jude is a stubborn stubborn man. You can't seem to outrun him, no matter how many calls and texts you ignore, or block his accounts. Nor how you manage to slip out from right in front of him. Fate is on his side today it seems.

He shows up to your office, flowers in hand. Your favorite flowers, tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color, a card neatly tucked under the petals.

Your coworkers are in uttersock, not even trying to hide their surprise as he marches over to your desk.

You type faster, ignoring him, or trying to. The gazes on you burn, almost as much as they did on the night he left you to rot. Why is he here?

“Hey,” he tries, meekly. He wants to punch himself in the face. Hey? Really?

You don't look up from your monitor, opening more tabs, swiping your mouse against your desk furiously. You think the battery just fell out.

“Listen, I know I'm horrible, a piece of shit, the worst man alive, I don't deserve you in the slightless. But I love you.” he scrambled out in one breath.

You whip your head up at him,”love? You love me so much you took me to a club on valentines day?”

He winces, “it was so stupid. I'm so stupid. Please, let me make it up to you.” he pleads.

You sigh, throwing your head back in your chair, rolling your eyes,”are you actually going to change Jude. Are you going to stop this nonsense and treat me like you actually mean what you say?”

“Yes,” he nods furiously, “I promise. Not a day will go by without me proving it to you, I swear.”

You look back at him. He's worn your favorite cologne, the sweater you used to always steal on cold nights. The flowers are beautiful. You missed him, you missed him so much, to the point that you're really considering it.

Someone coughs in the cubicle next to you and you groan, gathering your things and hastily walking to the door, motioning for Jude to follow.

He looks like a newborn puppy, almost tripping on his feet while he follows you through hallways and corridors till you reach a stairwell you know for certain no one will walk through.

“Jude, I hope you know what you did broke me, it really broke me. I think you ruined my ego, permanently.”

He nods, leaning on the railing while he clutches the bouquet with so much force you're scared they're going to be wrung like a wet rag.

“But,” you raise a finger to him, “ and this is a big big but, if you can prove these things instead of saying them, i'll consider giving you another proper chance okay?”

You see the tension visibly ease from his shoulders as he sighs softly, “Okay, yes, thank you. Thank you so much,” he brings the flowers forward, waiting for you to take them.

And you do, gently picking the note from the petals, you'll read this when you get home.

“I uh also, booked a dinner of your favorite place in a few days, in case you were willing to give me another chance i didn't want to mess it up again and if you don't have anything else going on and i just-” you take his hand in yours, stopping his ramblings effectively as he looks away. All of a sudden so shy as if you haven't stayed at his place for days at a time.

“I'll go Jude. I'm free, don't worry.”

“Great. 7 sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Ill see you then okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, soft and sweet.

With a smile you send him off, almost flying down the stairs in pure glee. You shake your head fondly, heading back to your work. The flowers weigh more than just their physical weight. The letters feel like a ton on its own.

You hope you made the right choice.

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britt-kageryuu · 1 month

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While many have thrown in their ideas about how truly scary the Rise Boys can be, I want to toss about my thoughts.

We know if the boys were ever pushed to actually putting in the effort, we could only scratch the surface of ideas. Like all the different Kraang futures people create. Not to mention the headcanons of what they would be like fully trained under Draxums original plans.

First on the offensive side.

Leo with his portals alone is a force to be afraid of, if someone fired a missile or nuke, he could just send it right back with a portal. Maybe if he just needed the coordinates he could send forces right into the center of enemy headquarters, and capture them.

Donnie would be feared not just for his mystics/ninpo creating any weapon he can think of, but he can upgrade ally weapons and vehicles to be tougher and better than their enemy could ever get.

Mikey if fully trained in Mystics (and hopefully without the rapid aging) is probably very devastating, but add in his chains to throw missiles and vehicles back, maybe a building or ship, and it just escalates from there.

Raph with his Ninpo is a one turtle army of tanks that can cause massive damage. I don't know if he could catch a missile before it explodes, but if possible there you go. Now if he was able to be bulletproof with his constructs, he would be near undefeatable.

On the defensive/support side.

Leo can easily get hostages/prisoners out easily (as long as there's no anti mystic stuff involved), not to mention people trapped in the rubble that isn't fully safe to move. If you want to throw in medic Leo, even as just a field medic, he would be invaluable, otherwise he can quickly get support in and out safely.

Donnie could easily build advanced medical devices, medicine, and armor. Not to mention tossing out a temporary ninpo medical device to help in the field. He's shown to make hard light shields to protect, and act as a road block, and he just wants to help how ever he can. Even if it's just a modified Roomba Army.

Mikey could definitely learn defensive and healing Mystics, and have him easily pull a big thing to act as a barrier. He would probably be good at quick hit and run tactics, and putting up secret signs with graffiti to point to safety.

Raph again one turtle army, and Stupidly strong, so easy quick defensive cover. Plus he can carry alot of people to safety whether on his shell or in his arms.

I'm kinda running out of points to make, but the other support they can give is teaching others how to defend themselves, and how to make these upgrades, or other improvements.

Take from this what you will, the Rise Turtles are pretty scary when you put things into perspective. And that's not even mentioning throwing Splinter into the whole scenario, and many other factors!

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project-sekai-facts · 10 days

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According to a Colorful Palette blog post, a "1.5 anniversary" design is hidden in Len's trained Surrounded by Spring-Colored Sweets 4*. This can be spotted on the graffiti, with a hand on the left side of the illustration holding up one finger, and a hand on the right side holding up 5 fingers. Len's head makes the decimal point.

#project sekai #cards #don't get technical about fingers and thumbs 5 digits is 5 digits

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azulas-lightning-bolt · 2 months

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sooo I’m insane about mako right. well. well ho hum well do you remember the other ball of repressed rage firebending member of team avatar.

yeah so imagine the timeline gets switched up a bit. aang (sorry aang ily but it’s for the plot) dies a lot earlier so the gaang is all in their early thirties late twenties when the krew start to be born. none of the major plot events are going to really change (gaang will be atla white lotus age by canon, almost 60s) and rc has for the most part been established.

boom around ten-fifteen years later they’re all around fourties. the krew is in the ten-fifteen y/o age range—korra’s training in the compound, asami is being groomed into a businessgirl, but yk what that means for my favorite bending brothers? the streets.

the gaang minus aang are still active and about (sokka is alive Because) so it’s zuko’s turn to help toph run the underbelly of rc. she always gripes that she’s doing fine in her old age (she’s like,, 38) and they can just leave her alone with the damned city to rot (she mostly hates her job. only reason she sticks with it is because it’s a sort of backwards way to take care of su and lin*. if the city streets are safe, there’s no reason not to let them off free) but of course the gaang has a rotation anyway. they try to stay sort of in contact after ending a hundred year war together because that’s kind of big.

*by the way sokka is not their dad. they were made in a terrarium because toph Built kids out of boredom and aang gave them bending as a joke and they just. grew. became alive. idk it seems more in character than toph having kids the normal way.

so anyway zuko is out patrolling. he’s on gang-spotting duty, so basically toph has the aging fire lord running around after guys who graffiti gang signs on walls and Politely Asking where their hideout is. today he happens to stumble upon an inter-gang scuffle. it’s pretty typical, and he’s moving to stop it when—boom, lightning and screaming. now, it was mostly thanks to his (and a reformed azula, because she will be getting in here somehow) efforts that lightningbending masters took hold and spread the subbending more commonly, but it’s still not typical to see it in poorer areas. yet there’s one person with a gang rumored to have it—you guessed it, zolt!

so zuko goes chasing after the source of the lightning, thinking toph is gonna be so happy she won’t punch him for a week and keep her griping to a minimum once he brings in one of the biggest thorns on her side.

but it’s not zolt he’s chasing. it’s twelve year old mako, scared shitless that the firelord is chasing him down and nowhere near fast enough to outrun him or hide. none of zolt’s cronies are dumb enough to try and bail him, he knows, but he also doesn’t want to leave bolin waiting on a dead brother.

zuko catches him, baffled that ‘zolt’ is so small. mako says nasty shit (because in best impression of 12 y/o mako voice : royalty. You are the 1% that makes Us like this) trying to wriggle free, revealing himself as definitely not zolt.

Zuko stares at this grimy, angry little twelve year old with old, peeling burn scars (I’ll make a post soon about the scars he definitely has from like,, everything) and fresher lightning scars and is like,, hmm. tiny angry firebending child with scars and likely insurmountable levels of trauma=me as a child who just needed some guidance and turned out fine (not really but it’s the thought that counts)

and then he uses his brain really hard and decides he will give tiny angry firebending child with scars and likely insurmountable levels of trauma guidance. so mako gets picked up by the scruff and is dragged, kicking and screaming, by the firelord to the police station.

toph hears a child shrieking and is immediately like no. get it away. out of my police station NOW. and mako is like YES get me out of her police station NOW. and they have a moment of commiserating mako’s presence in the police station together.

but then zuko is like what if we gave him Guidance. toph says bring that bullshit to katara and gtfo. cue lin and su, annoyed teenagers/young adults around canon krew’s ages for highest potential siblingism. btw the beifong relationships are much better in this. su is immediately like. can we keep him mom please. lin agrees with toph and wants it OUT she just started working here and tenzin’s yapping about kids does not need to follow her to the bullpen.

mako is put into police custody (su drags him around with her and watches him overnight). he wheedles her into finding bolin and becomes much more agreeable when he has his brother to hold in a death grip. when asked to separate, he threatens multiple creative methods of murder.

this got really out of hand but the idea is that katara and sokka side with zuko and they all gang up on toph, who somehow caves and agrees to let zuko give Guidance to tiny angry firebending child with scars and likely insurmountable levels of trauma. she forces bolin on suyin but she doesn’t mind too much, shoving metalbending down his throat.

korra meets them earlier on, finally having some friends her age! they’re all really really weird though so none of them are well adjusted when korra finally runs away to rc (they follow her everywhere). how terrible. but mako and bolin are like 5000x stronger without even trying and they also have money.

all three teenage freaks meet asami (who is immediately endeared by their weird asses), shit goes down, but this time featuring nebulously-father zuko, favorite person-without-title-but-probably-scary-aunt azula definitely mom-adjacent katara, weirduncle sokka, toph who goes to the swamp whenever she wants because lin is basically chief of police already and big sisters lin, su, kya and izumi. also featuring cousin-ish iroh II and long distance/reluctant (respectively) older brothers bumi and tenzin.

I believe both mako and bolin, if possible, would be considerably more batshit insane considering who they were raised by, but also more calculated on mako’s part because azula absolutely got her time in with him. I think katara would’ve taught them, for an absolute worst case scenario, how to handle bloodbending, so they would’ve wiped amon. I think mako, considering azula, definitely wanted the kill with that lightning on amon but, considering azula, knew it would only turn him into a martyr for the equalists to rally behind without exposing him first.

also puppy love makorra in the compound. then korrasami in rc because pretty girl with a bike but then ‘sorry I kind of have a crush on your childhood best friend korra but I’m still in love with you’ ‘WOAH sick really? same lol.’ ‘we should all kiss.’ then makorrasami!!!!

so yeah I totally lost my train of thought but that’s like. generally it(?)

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cecilysass · 23 days

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Shine On (16/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 16: Crazy Diamond

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 25, 2015 Two hours later

It turns out that Bunny Man Bridge is just a bridge. And okay, it’s a little creepy-looking—a one lane road going into a yellowed concrete tunnel under a train overpass—but not very eventful on a sunny, late winter afternoon. There aren’t signs of apparitions, dead bodies, or even Satanic graffiti. Which Jackson finds kind of disappointing after all Mulder’s talk.

Mulder drones on about the telltale hallmarks of paranormal activity, but since most of them would have involved interviewing human witnesses, they don’t seem very promising to investigate. There’s no one around but Jackson, Mulder, and Scully. And interested squirrels.

Still, Jackson is enjoying the outing. He and Mulder scramble up to the top of the bridge and look around the railroad tracks for any clues. Scully watches from the road below, leaning against the car, smirking to herself. After a few minutes Mulder begins to call for the Bunny Man like a lost dog— “here, Mr. Bunny Man, come on, boy”—which makes Scully cover her mouth with her hand and laugh.

Mulder looks down from the bridge at her with this goofy little smile, a whole lot like he’s an eighth grader pleased with himself. Jackson tries hard not to shine the man’s mind, as he’s thinking a surprising quantity of inappropriate thoughts for an old guy.

He gets the basic gist, though—the important highlights. They’re back together.

Jackson can’t help but feel happy for them. Mulder’s hope is contagious. It’s everywhere in the man’s mind right now, even in the dirty parts. It’s inescapable, Mulder’s hope. Like an annoying mylar balloon that keeps floating into your face. Even shining him a little makes Jackson’s own emotions begin to feel lighter, too.

“Is the investigation over?” Scully calls up to them. “I’m hungry.” She cocks her head strategically. “We could go pick up fresh bagels.”

Jackson raises his eyebrows. “I could eat.”

“I think we’re just about wrapped up here,” Mulder calls back. “It’s going to be kind of a drive for bagels though. We’re in the country, Scully.”

She shrugs and smiles. From her pocket her phone starts to buzz, and she rushes to pull it out, sliding into the car to take the call. As Jackson understands it, she’s finishing up odds and ends of her hospital job before she goes back to the FBI.

Mulder regards Jackson seriously. “I’ve got to tell you, Jackson—I’m not noticing any classic signs,” he says, gesturing around them. “No change in temperature, no strange odor.” He points to the birds chirping in the trees around them. “I still hear local wildlife going strong.”

“Yeah,” Jackson says with a sigh. “Maybe the Bunny Man really does only show up on Halloween.”

Mulder’s eyes light up. “Well, possibly we could come back—” He stops himself, but it’s too late. Jackson knows exactly what he was going to say, and he knows exactly why he stopped.

They don’t know where Jackson will be at Halloween. That’s eight months away. He could very well be locked in a juvenile justice facility. That reality hasn’t gone away, however much Mulder and Jackson want to forget and play ghost hunter. Everyone keeps acting like Jackson is just going to stay here and play pretend son, but that’s just not the case.

Jackson has to turn away from Mulder now. Sometimes other people’s hope is painful.

They have to be careful on the way down; the embankment down the side of the bridge is steep. Jackson’s feet, skidding out of control, stumble the last few steps down, and Mulder grabs his arm to steady him.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jackson mumbles.

Mulder’s thoughts are a burgeoning swell of concern, and Jackson knows he’s probably been doing a little shining. “Listen, Jackson—”

“You’ve actually seen ghosts before, right?” Jackson interrupts. He looks around at the wooded area around the bridge, then back at Mulder. “Not just read about them?”

Mulder considers him a moment. “I have, yes.”

“Who were the ghosts?” Jackson asks.

“The ghosts themselves? You mean in life?”

“Yeah. Did you know them?”

Mulder thinks about his answer. “One time it was a couple,” he says. “A couple who died together on Christmas.”

Jackson thinks about that for a moment, a couple who died together and spent eternity together, too. It seems like that might be good. Not entirely unhappy. He gets little visual flashes from Mulder’s memories, but he pushes them out—he’d rather make up his own little story about these ghosts.

“You never met the ghost of anyone you knew when they were alive?” Jackson asks. He hesitates. “Like … your own parents, maybe?”

Mulder’s head turns sharply to him. His gray-green eyes are sorrowful, then shift infinitesimally into sympathy and pity.

“Jackson,” he says, his words subdued, “you won’t get your parents back by searching for ghosts.”

A bird trills nearby, and Jackson’s gaze follows the sound. “Yeah,” he says.

His eyes again fill with tears. This is one of those things he knows he should know better about. Something he can see is a delusion—an idea gullible kids hold on to— but he wants to believe anyway. He wants to think that one day he might see his mom and dad again. How stupid, to imagine friendly ghosts who might pat him reassuringly on the shoulder and tell him it’s okay.

They both stand facing the steep bank of trees, saying nothing.

A very clear sentence runs through Mulder’s mind. If he were staying with us, I would make sure he got a new therapist.

Jackson can’t help but smile, wiping his tears. “If I were staying with you, I’d probably really need one.”

“Yeah.” Mulder snorts a laugh. “You probably would.”

***

Back in the car, Scully is sitting in the driver’s seat, unmoving, waiting for them. The radio is on, turned down very low, a murmur of voices.

“No ghosts,” Jackson informs her as he slides in the back. “Mulder says we can try Gadsby Tavern in Alexandria next time.”

“You all done with your call?” Mulder asks her, giving her a curious look. “Was it the hospital?”

“It wasn’t.” Scully says in a strange voice. “It was Skinner. He had news.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of news?”

“There’s been new evidence in the Van De Kamps’ case. Apparently a … witness remembers seeing a man wanted in Colorado in the neighborhood that morning, leaving the scene.”

“What?” Jackson inhales.

“The charges against Jackson have been dropped. He’s considered a missing child now. The Rawlins police are having a press conference, so it will be hitting the media today at some point.”

“A witness emerges from nowhere?” Mulder asks.

“Yes,” Scully says, and Jackson watches her eyes latch on to his. “And Skinner says the name of this witness has been strangely hard to come by, even for the Bureau.”

“This is good news though,” Jackson insists. “Right? It means I’m free. It’s good.”

He looks from Scully to Mulder. They both turn to him in the backseat, their faces blooming in simultaneous smiles. They’re both holding something back, but they’re not insincere.

“It is, Jackson,” Scully agrees. “You’re right. It means you have a lot more options.” He senses her worry simmering underneath. Something wrong here. Another shoe about to drop.

“Maybe I can call people now,” Jackson says, his eyes darting hesitantly between them. “My friend Louis. Maybe my uncle Wyatt.”

“Probably very soon,” Mulder says, nodding. “I’d like to wait until we know … just a little more.”

“You’re both worried,” Jackson observes softly. “You think something is weird.”

There’s a silence in the car as Scully starts the engine.

“We’re cautious,” Mulder says. “Happy, but cautious.”

***

When they get home from their bagel pick up—and Mulder was right, it was kind of a drive to get to the place with good bagels—Jackson is washing his hands in the kitchen when he feels Rose’s tiny nudge into his mind.

Apparently she’s back at home now, wherever that is. She tells him to pass on some messages. He’s happy to hear from her. He badly wants to tell her his good news, but he thinks about what Mulder and Scully said, and he decides to wait a little.

Jackson can hear Mulder talking on the phone outside. Actually, he is apparently taking a break from talking to whoever is on the line to discuss something back and forth very animatedly with Scully. Neither one of them really holds back their opinion, he’s noticed.

He’s started to put together a few more pieces about them. For one, he’s been curious about how Mulder pays his bills. Jackson’s parents always were very careful about money—clipping coupons, thinking through monthly budgets—but Mulder thinks about money much less than most adults.

Jackson knows that Scully is a doctor, and Jackson understands that doctors make high salaries, which explains her nice car and nice clothes. But Mulder hasn’t seemed to have a regular job for years, and Jackson doesn’t think FBI agents make enough to retire decades early.

When they came home with their dozen bagels, Mulder and Scully went to call this lawyer right away, both of them very determined. From what Jackson can gather, it seems to be a lawyer associated with Mulder’s family. So, Jackson infers, Mulder comes from some kind of family money. He wonders why Mulder doesn’t use it to buy a fancier house or car.

As he selects another bagel, he wonders about Mulder’s family. Who were they? How did they get rich? He wonders about Scully’s family, too. What’s her mother like, the one who is still alive? He could probably ask them all of these questions now that he isn’t a wanted man. Maybe he could even meet the mysterious grandmother now.

Outside Mulder and Scully still seem deeply invested in talking to the lawyer, so Jackson plops down on the couch with his cinnamon raisin bagel.

Chewing silently, he remembers what Scully said about the media getting the story soon. He searches around for the remote and turns on Mulder’s TV, pressing buttons to find a news channel.

When he does, he can tell instantly: the story is public.

A blonde reporter clad in a bright blue coat stands on a snow-covered street in downtown Rawlins, with the words “New Development in Wyoming Murder Case: Police Apologize to Runaway Teen” sprawled underneath her. Jackson is so shocked to see the familiar storefronts of his hometown on the national news he can barely focus on the words.

“...police believe that the victims’ son fled out of fear, and they hope Jackson Van De Kamp will be found safely.”

One of the police officers who’d been at Jackson’s school that horrible day—Davis was his name, Jackson remembers—stands in front of a microphone, looking gray and stricken: “We admit when we make mistakes, and this was a mistake. Mr. Van De Kamp is innocent of all wrongdoing. In all likelihood, he’s a scared and grieving kid. If you can hear this, Jackson, buddy, we want you to come home.”

Jackson stares at the screen open-mouthed, clutching his half-eaten bagel tightly. The rest of the report seems to slide right past him.

“Was that it?” Scully says sharply from behind him. The news has moved on to something else. “Was that the story about you?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says, his voice sounding like a small boy’s.

Scully walks around and sits down next to him on the couch. She picks up the remote and switches the TV off.

She peers at his face. “Are you okay, Jackson?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “The police … uh, begged me … to come home. To Wyoming.”

Scully’s eyes are so wide, so icy blue—exactly like Rose’s. They run all over him, as if studiously taking in every detail.

“Do you want to go back?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, blinking.

She picks up his plate off of the coffee table, offering it to him. He sets his bagel down on it dazedly. She replaces the plate on the table.

“You have some decisions to make, Jackson,” she says, her voice gentle. “Not all of them right away. But you do have some decisions to make.”

Mulder appears behind her, his hand reaching for her shoulder. He’s watching Jackson closely, too.

“We spoke to the lawyer about the … custody possibilities,” Scully says. Jackson recognizes suddenly that she’s very nervous. He can feel fear starting to roll off of her in steady waves. “It’s most likely a relative has official custody of you now. Probably your uncle Wyatt?”

Jackson nods slowly. He can’t think of who else would.

“We can talk to your uncle about other possibilities,” Scully says carefully. “Living with us. Short term … or longer term. There are a range of options in the kind of relationship you could have with us. You could just do visits. We could have some kind of shared custody. There’s, uh, more permanent arrangements. Like legal guardianship. Adoption.” She swallows. Her fear is pulsing around Jackson now like a heartbeat. “I don’t know how your uncle will feel about any of this, but we thought we’d check with you before pursuing anything else. We want you to be the one … in the driver’s seat.”

Jackson reaches out his hand to rest on her arm. He doesn’t want her to be so terrified. It’s stupid. Unnecessary. Of course he wants to live with them. She stills at his touch, her eyes widening.

“Yeah,” he says. “I want to see Uncle Wyatt—like, for visits. He’s family. But I’d like to stay here. If that’s possible, I mean.”

Scully seems unable to suppress her initial reaction: she bursts into a pink-cheeked smile; she exchanges a quick, amazed look with Mulder. Her hand covers Jackson’s, and he can feel her intentionally calming herself down. “We’re happy you feel like that, of course. But that was … a fast decision. Are you sure? You can think about it. All the time you need.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” He tries to make his own tone sound casual, breezy. “Uncle Wyatt has too many dogs and goes to a crazy church,” he says with a shrug. “And I don’t think he’ll argue with you too much if you say you want me to live here. I broke his big screen TV once, and he thinks I’m annoying.”

Jackson doesn’t say everything he’s thinking. That he would actually really like to see what it would be like to be part of their family. That he’d like to know what love felt like, everyday, with them. That he thinks it would be easy, somehow—much easier than he might have expected. That he thinks he understands now that this new relationship with them has nothing to do with replacing his parents.

Mulder’s smile is so wide that Jackson suspects he eavesdropped. “We’d love to have you, Jackson,” he says.

“We’ll talk to your uncle,” adds Scully. “We can be more specific about your options after that.”

“Rose said she could teach you more about how to block me, you know,” Jackson tells them tactfully. “So you wouldn’t have to worry as much about… not having privacy. You know.”

Scully flushes, and Mulder hides a smile. “That might be nice,” Scully says.

“She also said there was a really good STEM high school in Alexandria,” Jackson suggests with more feigned disinterest.

“Rose is full of advice,” Mulder observes wryly.

“Yep,” Jackson agrees. “I got a message from her, by the way.” He eyes the bagel on his plate again. “When you all first went in to call the lawyer.”

“Really?” Mulder says. “A … psychic message?”

“That sounds kind of overdramatic,” Jackson says, rolling his eyes and picking his bagel back up. “But yeah. She said she was home.”

“Good,” Scully says. “That’s good.” She throws Mulder a glance.

“She also said to tell you something, Scully.”

“She … did?”

“She said to tell you that they listened to her.” He looks at Scully to see if that’s meaningful, but her face looks blank. “Rose said that … she told them what she wanted, and they listened.”

He shrugs, deciding it doesn’t matter that much, and he takes a big bite of the bagel. Scully has a point about getting them fresh, he decides. They taste so much better this way. You could only get bagels in a bag at the grocery store in Rawlins.

A plummeting feeling from the pit of Scully’s stomach makes him look up.

“What?” Mulder asks her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Scully’s face has lost color. “No. I just …”

“Who listened to her?” Mulder insists. “What does that message mean?”

“I asked her … if the Walled Garden leaders listened to her,” Scully says in a low voice. “If they respected her.”

Jackson swallows part of his bagel so he’s able to talk. Through a mouthful: “You think she asked the Walled Garden for something she wanted?”

Mulder stares at Jackson, and then turns back to Scully, his eyes widening. “You think she asked them for something she wanted,” he repeats in a low voice, realizing. “Oh wow.”

“This morning, she said she was going home to take care of something,” Scully whispers, her eyes on him.

Jackson swallows his last mouthful. “What?”

“So she goes home,” Mulder says in disbelief to Scully. “And within a few hours…”

“Is it possible, Mulder?”

Jackson finally gets it. “You think she asked the Walled Garden to make sure the charges were dropped against me. Don’t you?”

Scully and Mulder are still looking hard at one another. “It happened so fast,” Mulder says. “All in less than six hours. If it was really the machinations of the Walled Garden…”

“They have an alarming amount of power,” says Scully. “Over multiple entities of government. An amount of power comparable to…”

“The Syndicate.” Mulder sits next to them on the couch, puts his head in his hands. “Can this be true? I don’t know what to make of an organization like this. They’re not even… strictly human. But they may be involved in… it’s overwhelming.”

They don’t say anything for a moment, looking dazed. Jackson watches them both in profile, unsure what to say.

“What do we do, Scully?” Mulder says.

She looks away, towards the window. There are entire worlds—entire universes—in Scully’s eyes. Jackson feels weirdly like his shine is lost in something enormous.

“I guess it’s fortunate there’s an investigative unit of the FBI qualified to keep an eye on them,” Scully says slowly and resolutely at last.

She turns and picks up Mulder’s hand. He lifts his head out of his hands and meets her stare.

“And keep an eye on Rose, too?” Jackson says incredulously.

“Yeah,” agrees Mulder, a strange finality. “And keep an eye on Rose.”

A fierce undertow of worry from Scully. But is Rose on the right side? How could we convince her? What if Rose were involved with something fundamentally wrong? What about any other members of the Walled Garden Mulder might feel connected to?

They’re frighteningly powerful anxieties, and Jackson doesn’t even understand some of them. They’re shot through with the stinging, luminous heat of her love. But weirdly he doesn’t feel himself getting drawn into these anxieties right now, even though he’s prone to worrying himself.

It’s just the more overwhelming emotion coming at him right now is what’s coming from Mulder. This ridiculous hopefulness. Bigger and more buoyant than ever. It fills up, expands and crowds out all competing feelings.

Jackson isn’t sure if Mulder is essentially being like a gullible kid—if he wants to believe things that aren’t true just to comfort himself. If that’s true, he is much, much better at it than Jackson. Because every cell in his body seems to be singing the same song: somehow, this will be okay. Somehow, what's wrong is going to get better. Jackson decides Mulder feeling like this is a good thing, even if it's not an entirely logical or sane thing.

As Mulder draws Scully into his side, and suggests they watch his favorite movie—some old movie about space that Scully protests vehemently—Jackson notices the influence of Mulder’s hope beginning to work on her, too. She’s arguing back, but she’s starting to relax, too. She’s got this little smile on her lips. Her anxieties are receding, falling into the background.

Jackson pulls his knees up at his end of the couch and stops listening to their good-natured argument. He wonders how it would be received if he asked if his friend Louis could come visit some time. He has a brilliant idea about splashing red paint around the inside of the Bunny Man Bridge and freaking the shit out of Louis. It would be hilarious. Also, he’d just like to see Louis. He misses him.

Mulder and Scully want Jackson to be the tie-breaker in deciding the movie. They both look over and ask him, with curious faces, what he wants to watch.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Finding Nemo,” he suggests at once. “Or The Incredibles.”

“Aren’t those kid movies?” Mulder asks suspiciously.

“Not ... entirely,” Jackson says.

“What are they about, then?”

Jackson considers his answer a minute and lands upon the right words. “They’re about doing crazy shit for your family.”

He wins.

***

Y'all, thank you so much for reading. I’m truly grateful for all of your encouraging, supportive notes and tags. You have no idea what they mean.

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp #x files revival

54 notes · View notes

arachnoia · 10 months

Text

mode ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x afab! reader

in which one of new york’s most famous models runs into an old acquaintance during a modeling gig.

had a lil drabble in mind so i wrote it!! thank you guys so so much for liking my last posts it means a lot!! tbh idk what this was but I was j writing. i’m open to write other characters but need ideas so pls drop some in my requests! formula 1 is also going to be continued v v soon!

thank you! 😪🙏🏼

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’ve always had aspirations of becoming a model, being on a billboard along with many celebrities you admired.

The posing, the glamour, the attention.

It was a dream you’ve always had, having an insatiable hunger for it.

You drank your chai in peace as you were just finished your Pilates class. You had a photoshoot later on to model some new brand that hit social media and exploded in popularity. It could help both your public images.

“Good morning, N/n!” Jess said, giving you a hug from behind.

Jess is your roommate and has been your best friend since your freshman year in high school. The both of you bonded over American pop culture, fashion, and the immense difficulty of your freshman physics class.

She had your back when you forgot the formula for net force and when you were having emotional turmoil over your crush on Miguel O’Hara.

Everyone knew about your crush on him because who would have a crush on the physics math geek?

You.

He was scrawny, quiet, a nerd, and no one knew who he was. Until people found out you liked him, which was obvious because you would get caught staring at him from across the lunchroom multiple times.

The two of you were polar opposites socially.

You weren’t popular, to say the least, but it’s not like people didn’t know who you are. There were a decent amount of people who liked you in high school, but you only had your eye on him.

Like Jess, he was also in your physics class freshman year and caught your eye.

He’s the reason why you wanted to do modeling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was junior year in your AP Lang class and you two were doing peer reviews for an essay.

You two were in a library near your high school. It was quiet until he just blurted out: “You should consider modeling, Y/n.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden compliment, “What?”

He just shrugged and pushed up his square glasses. “I’m just saying that you’d look nice on a cover of a magazine. You look the type.”

“O-Oh…Thanks?”

You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so awkward.

His face stayed as nonchalant as always, “Mhm.”

It was safe to say that there wasn’t a single word spoken after that.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Jess tied up her hair and stretched. “Do you need a ride? Isn’t the studio in Manhattan?”

You shook your head and sipped your chai, “Nope, it’s in Brooklyn. And it’s okay! I have some errands to run after the shoot if it won’t take long.”

“Alright, girl. What’s the guy’s name again? The guy that owns the brand.”

“I think his name's Gabriel?” You shrugged and took a bite out of your açaí bowl. Jess took a spoon and ate some too.

“Wow! You just take my breakfast huh?”

Jess giggled and ran back to her room, “Good luckkkk!”

You scoffed and smiled, “You bitch!”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You took the train to get to the studio and walked there.

It was a little apartment building that had some graffiti on the side of the wall. You liked how nice the graffiti was.

You went inside and knocked on the door for apartment 206.

You heard some clutter and a voice all of a sudden, “-Coming!”

The door opened to a young man, maybe in his 20s? Early 30s?

“Hi, my name is Gabriel! You’re Y/n Y/l/n? I’ve heard so much about you! You’re an amazing model. Your magazine shoot with Vogue was so nice!” he gushed.

His voice sounded really familiar but wasn’t at the same time.

“Oh thank you so much! Your brand is actually really nice! Thank you for reaching out! Can I come in?”

He rushed in and stood to the side of the door, “Of course! Come right in!”

The apartment was really nice and was a decent size. Not too big and small.

Some assistants were running around getting some clothes ready and preparing the violet backdrop with a silver desk that looked like something out of Star Wars.

You got into many different outfits which were really modern and motorsport-ish.

It reminded you of that futuristic streetwear style that’s growing these days, which was really fresh to see.

Gabriel popped in from the lounge area where you were already dressed to go home, “You did really good! Again thank you so much for coming! It’s going to do the brand so so well!”

You smiled and nodded, “Of course! It was nice meeting-“

You heard the door open and was interrupted by another voice, “Hey Gabri, you left your electronic watch at my place.”

Gabriel smiled and went over to claim his watch, punching the man in the arm, “Thanks Miggy!”

Your face twisted from a smile to a shocked expression.

“Oh! Y/n, meet my older brother, Miguel!” Gabriel said, pointing at his brother.

“Miggy, meet Y/n Y/l/n! She’s an awesome model who’s helping me promote my brand!”

He looked over to you and stared, “I’ve heard of who she is.”

You couldn’t help but have your jaw drop. Your eyes couldn’t believe it.

That scrawny, shy kid from high school was no more. He got replaced by a man with a body identical to a greek god’s, beautiful, luscious locks of chestnut hair, and gorgeous arms.

He still had his old square glasses which added charm to the rest of his outfit; a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants.

He made you feel like you were back in high school, crushing on him while he explained formulas to you.

“I said ‘hi’, Ms. Y/l/n,” he smiled, looking you up and down. You didn’t know if he was being judgmental or just observing.

“O-Oh! Hi!” You held at your hand to Miguel, who looked a slight bit amused and shook it.

“My brother here is a chemical engineer at this place, Alche-what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and laughed, “Alchemax. And it’s nice to meet you, miss.”

Gabriel smiled and checked his phone due to it ringing loudly, “Shoot! I have to pick up some fabric I ordered. It’s the last one they have! Migs, please lock up! Good bye, Ms. Y/l/n!”

Gabriel ran out the studio and threw the keys at Miguel, who caught them quickly.

Miguel looked back at you and smiled sarcastically, “Y’know, it would’ve been nice if you weren’t eye fucking me in front of my own brother, Ms. Y/l/n.”

You felt shivers down your spine.

The way your last name rolled off his tongue was so sexy, especially with that slight accent he’s always had.

You tried to say something so you wouldn’t look like a complete idiot in front of your high school crush, “E-Excuse me…?“

“You heard me, Y/n.”

Oh fuck.

“I b-believe you’re mistaken. I would never do that in a professional setting with someone I work with.”

You mentally cheered yourself on. You weren’t sounding like an idiot anymore.

You don’t think.

He hummed and shrugged, “I didn’t think I would see you working with my brother, yet here we are. How’s life been?”

What the fuck?

How could he be so calm and asking ‘how’s life?’ after accusing you for eyefucking him.

He wasn’t wrong but it’s embarrassing.

“It’s fine. So you work at Alchemax?”

“Yeah. We’re working on something right now, but I can’t tell you.” He started chuckling and folded his arms

God, how much you loved that in high school.

Even then, he would make every single little thing so sexy.

In high school, he looked like he had never experienced a touch of a woman.

But now…

“Why not?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s top secret, nena.”

You looked at him from the side of your eye and he locked eyes with you.

You couldn’t deny the rough tension in the room.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of ruby red, accentuated thanks to the blinding glare of the studio lights still being on.

Then you locked your eyes to his lips. They were so full and beautiful and you wanted to kiss them.

He smiled at you and was going to pull back from his leaning position before you wrapped your arms around his neck and connected your lips to his.

You’ve been waiting since freshman year to kiss him. Who could blame you?

What you didn’t expect is for him to kiss you back, more rough and passionate.

You felt him smile a bit, making you kiss him even more.

It didn’t take long for you and Miguel to walk towards the desk, where he broke from the kiss and pushed you against the desk, ass facing him.

You were still in disbelief that you were making out with your high school crush so suddenly, making your heart pound.

You were wearing one of your favorite outfits; a black corset top and a white lace skirt you stole from Jess.

You felt him rub your ass before he spanked it under your skirt, hearing him growl a bit. “Fuck…”

He leaned towards to kiss your cheek, feeling his hard bulge from his sweatpants. “Let me make you feel good, cariño.”

Did you mention you loved it when he spoke in Spanish? You loved it when he spoke in general.

You turned around and sat on the desk as you took off your top and slid down your skirt, leaving you in your panties.

He looked at you up and down again, now with underlying lust and darkness in his eyes, “I’ve been waiting to do this since high school.”

He roughly took his shirt off and also slid down his pants, leaving you to gawk at his stunningly toned body.

“Like what you see? Careful, mi bélla, you have something aquí,” he smirked as he caressed your face.

He placed his hand on your hip and played with the string of your underwear before ripping it apart with his (abnormally?) long nails.

“That’s better,” he said as he pulled the piece of clothing off of you. He took off his boxers and as soon as he did that, you kneeled down and started rubbing on his length.

“Let me make you feel good first.” You started grazing your lips on it and kissed his swollen tip, already oozing with precum.

You put him inside your mouth and he started to gently thrust as you started to suck.

“Yeah baby, you feel so fucking good-"

You felt like gagging, taking him all, thick, long, and veiny.

It didn’t take long for him to ejaculate in your mouth, having you swallow and some of his cum spilling on the sides of your mouth.

“God, you look so sexy like this,” he whispered, brushing some of your hair away from your face. You smiled up at him as he bit his lip.

He sat you on top of the desk, legs wide open.

He started to play with your clit and inserted two fingers almost immediatly to your already wet core.

"M-Miguel...fuck."

You whimpered quietly as he started to fingerfuck you fastly.

He chuckled darkly, "If you can't handle my fingers, then I'd like to see you handle my cock."

You laughed dryly and cried out as he went even faster.

Right as you were going to come, he stopped.

"Why did you do that," you slurred, feeling high on the sexual tension.

"Don't worry, just wait."

He whispered as he kept teasing your poor clit and started to pump his dick.

"Shhhhh" he muttered as he started to insert himself inch by inch, “Estas haciendo bien, mi linda. AY DIOS-"

Your eyes widened at how much he stretched you out, and it was barely the tip. "Oh fuck, Miguel-"

"D-Don't worry, baby. You're doing good..."

You scratched at his back as you bounced again and again. "O-Oh my fucking god..."

You felt like you were in a porn movie with how loud your moans and how bright the studio lights were, accentuating every crease and muscle on Miguel’s hot body.

You couldn’t help but stare as he mindlessly rearranges your organs fucking you.

You started to hold on to his arms as he went at a violent pace.

“A-Alchemax must stress the living shit out of you, h-huh? F-FUCK!”

He smiled a bit as he went a little faster, “You can’t...imagine. Estos pinche- PUTA MADRÉ-"

You felt him twitch inside of you and release, filling you up to the brim as you released your high as well.

"Oh s-shit..."

You mumbled before covering your face, turning over to hide your face and just bent over.

He kissed your exhausted body on the desk, all sweaty and hot from your tiring activities from earlier.

As he dressed up again, he couldn’t help but stare at his masterpiece; having Y/n Y/l/n, one of New York’s most respected models, in such a slutted out position.

Bent over and trembling, filled up to the rim with his cum.

Although he was a chemical engineer at such a highly respected place such as Alchemax, he couldn't help but feel proud that he had you like this.

Just for him.

393 notes · View notes

idv-sunsxin3 · 2 months

Text

Pavia, Diggers // Car Ride

Note // Same prompt as the one with Horropedia except is with the other 2 glasses sillies (separately) this time/ lh

Warning// a bit suggestive on Pavia's part??? Maybe.

____

(When he's driving)

Guys, we should make a debate in where Pavia either drives on a Lamborghini or a Ferrari/j

There are times he drives normally for the sake of keeping a low profile at times... and there are time when he is a fast driver, not more said.

Would most likely get a speeding ticket... well, if the officers ever managed to catch him. 😭

Even if he doesn't put seatbelt on himself, he would be the type of lover who would nag you to put them on-

(not like you're complaining as you grip on something as if your life depends on you;;;/ih)

He likes to linger his hand on your thigh and give it a squeeze whenever he drives- crazy.

He would do the same when so much traffic happens, to at least subside his frustration on the road. Italian cursing at how long it's taking;;; definitely the grumpy driver type.

Sometimes, he likes to put bags underneath your legs during the ride, saying that "it's safe if it doesn't shake around"-

But no!!! In reality, he does that just so he can grab one of your legs and spread it open before reaching out, whatever he needs to take out - this man.... 😭

The good side of it is that Pavia's 5 wolves are often tagged along as they sit on the back seat--- Pavia for some reason helps them open the windows sometimes so they can stick their head and stick out their tongues while the car moves- its a very funny sight when it's 5 dogs in both windows of the car;;;;😭🤣

The wolves are at least trained enough to be careful- and they would know when to get their heads back in whenever Pavia warns them that he'll roll up the windows again with the power window switch.

"Hold on tight, baby~ this will be a pretty bumpy ride."😈

If you really appreciate your life a lot, you might as well ask if you both can just take a taxi./lh

Yet i feel like knowing him, he won't take no as an answer;;; <//3

____

(When he's a passenger)

Mmm if he ever is in a car ride with you along with other party members Vertin assigned, he probably wouldn't like the fact how close he is to touch other people during the entire ride---- even if he doesn't show it, I guess the menacing death smirk might give it away(it does).

As long as it's just you beside him, he won't be too salty about it--

He won't give you a break from how clingy he is tho- he wouldn't keep his hands to himself if he's not the one taking the wheel;;;;

Pulling you close, sneaking a hand on your knee, make you cuddle against him, have his chest touch your back as he whispers flirty Comments on your ear- technically trying to make others get third wheeled and calling them single in many different ways;;; 😭

Like Horropedia, he's most likely the "are we there yet" passenger....---- except in a more grumpy impatient vibe as if he doesn't want to stay in this vehicule any longer--- he's not burning it down just because you're here/ih

"Come on, little girl...- How long do we have to stay in this car?"

The Italian grumbles, trying to get his sly hands busy by playing with your hair a bit through his calloused fingers. His arm is resting heavily on your shoulder.

"Soon." That's what the young girl answers with a calm tone, already used to the intimidating energy the older one tends to bring.

Pavia ends up leaning his back into the cushion, sighing as you tiredly pat him by the shoulder. The small gesture of comfort is unknown if it is playful or sincere.

Suddenly, the other seems to have other plans. He catches you off guard by lifting you smoothly with his hands on your waist before placing you between his lap.

He whispers on your ear, a quiet voice with a hint of rasp and longing.

"Stay close to me for now, so I don't have to talk to these poor teammates here...-"

____

(When he's driving)

Diggers driving an old-fashioned volkswagen that has a lot of colorful graffiti paint all over it seems very in character, in my opinion. He even has this colorful van decorated with a lot of stuff in his insight 2-- Which was what most hippies drove before.

Not only is it affordable and durable, but it's also spacious in the back that he can make it as a comfy place to rest.... which is also where you usually nap together or have these quiet cuddling sessions.🥺♥️

He usually keeps the vehicule in a peaceful area where it's not near the city, like a grassfield or in the middle of a forest.

I'm not sure if he'll be a full licensed driver, but I feel like he would drive at a less extreme speed for the sake of stress--- prefers to drive and see how empty the road is and how peaceful the landscape would be- rural areas specifically.

And when he finds the perfect spot to settle, you would stay there for the night or even a couple of days.

Diggers probably like acoustic music or something that gives a "groovy" impression. Yet, he is very flexible enough to let you go crazy with the radio box- pick a song, or music, whatever hat interests you--- whether he knows the tune or not, he might try to sing along and enjoy the different kinds of vibes with you djdbdbdb-

You and Diggers plan to move the van out to another rural field within london- most likely a village your boyfriend seems to have known.

The moment you finished packing what you need at the back of the van, Diggers calls you back from the driver seats window.

"Darling! You're done?" The voice of your boyfriend resembles one of an ecstatic puppy.

"Yeah!"

"Come inside!"

As you were about to hop into the passenger seat- you got surprised by a.... big pile of flowers sitting on your seat???

Oop- some of them fell off the moment you opened the door.

"I- what??? What is this???" You laugh softly, already imagining the jolly grin Diggers might be wearing from the other side of the mountain of flowers.

The pile looks like they're 100 roses.

"Oops--- forgot to give you these. Surprise!" He bubbly says as he leans on the steering wheel lazily.

"...." You pause, sighing out after recovering from the laughter, "Oh g- thanks, baby-- but how can I even see your face like this??? Where do i sit???" 🤣

As if the option of the back seat was out of the window, Diggers responded:

"How about my lap?"

You both now started laughing again like the dorks you are,,,/lh

____

(When he's a passenger)

He's most likely the type to play some tunes on his guitar, entertaining and serenading those who surround him as he sits in the vehicle

Is actually very nice that he gets to go somewhere without worrying about the gasoline cost-- /ih

He'll be fine sitting anywhere- but he'll be more pleased if he gets to sit right next to you- where he believes he should be <33

He'll have an arm behind your neck while chilling, sometimes holding hands just to play with your fingers while talking to someone.

Maybe even spend the entire car ride trying to teach how to play the guitar- having you on his lap as he guides your hands on where to place the strings. 🤭🥰

He would be most likely a tolerable passenger, a pretty peaceful one. He'll even would try and nap the entire ride if he can.

Though, whenever he spots a police car passing by through the window- I can imagine him immediately crouching so he doesn't get spotted, very self-conscious by the fact there are some officers looking after him,,, maybe;;; <//3

He trusts any driver as long as it's anyone that is not Pavia.... Convince me otherwise--- 😭

He would freak out and scream when the speed is too high- even cling on to you.

His grip is firm that you don't even know whether he is trying to hold on to you so he doesn't get thrown off or because he wants to cover you from any incoming crashes---/ih

You'll have to comfort him a bit after that;;

I'll never forget about the drive thru headcanons <333

//Them ordering take out at a McDonald's drive thru with s/o. If you don't eat McDonald's, just imagine it/ih

___

//Pavia//

Arches eyebrow... and wearing this look of "pookie, out of other restaurants, you decide one of the most low-quality ones???"/ih

Also not him having beef by the fact the ice cream in McDonald's sucks- the machine is even broken in almost every restaurant--- sobs;;;

At the end, he brought you there anyways, because you made him/ih

The reason why he would buy you a happy meal is probably because you're baby--- you don't even know if it's sweet or insulting./ih 😭🫠

Whenever you want to order but the cashier cant hear you when he's the one who's in the driver seat- I can imagine you guys with this meme./ih

Pavia is creepily respectful enough to keep this funny straight look while technically facing your butt, it's crazy;;; 2x

Next time, Pavia will drag you to somewhere better now that you finished dragging him to such "monstrosity of creepy clowns, grimace shakes, and broken ice cream machines"/j. More better than Olive Garden even---;;;

___

//Diggers//

"Ehhhh-- what would you like to order, sweetie?" :)

"Anything is alright."

"...."

"....."

*turns back to the window* "1 hamburger, 2 French fries- and a milkshake, please." :)

Most hippies don't seem to like materialism- but food is food, he wouldn't even dare to say no to if you want to order food at places like McDonalds dbbdbdnd;;; Like, most prices there were like less than $1 (plus tax) back in the 1960s...- 🤔🤯

(I feel like you would boss out of this by paying for him at times- like this is probably better than the McDonald's from 2020s/ih)

Man, happy meals were only first introduced in 1979- so they weren't a thing yet for a while in Diggers' timeline. If they ever get premiered, He would buy you one for you whether or not you like it- he just likes how there are chicken nuggets and juice boxes inside colorful boxes that seem to be meant for children-- yet for him, it doesn't matter. You will have it anyway, even if he's broke;;😭🥺

The first boxes when they were first introduced were circus wagons. The first toys were tops, stencils, wallets, puzzles, and erasers. Initially, meals included a hamburger or cheeseburger, fries, a soft drink, and cookies.... yum.

Pampering you with food is one of the wholesome things I can imagine - even eating it while being inside his van at some parking lot. Feeding each other with these silly dorky grins,,,,

#pavia reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 #r1999 diggers #r1999 pavia #r1999 x reader #r1999 #reverse 1999 diggers #diggers x reader #pavia x reader #reverse: 1999 x reader

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kogaokami · 2 months

Text

Make it, make out.

Featuring. Kanata Yatonokami x Fem! Reader.

You can't resist him, and he can't hold back from you either.

Tags: highly suggestive, fluff, comfort.

🌙 - To my dear Lyn @koumeowkami happiest birthday! 💜 I told you I'd try to write something a lil bit more heated with Kanata for your birthday and here it is. I'm afraid my writing isn't the best here, but I still hope it's somewhat enjoyable to you! You'll find this posted to my ao3 as well. ilysm <3

(I tried to include some Mitsuki references and a dear vocalist one too hehe I hope you like it!!)

The vibrant purple of dusk and artificial lighting mixes with the curve of his lips.

To you, he had always been beautiful; an angel with a shattered halo, whose tainted wings still wrapped around you protectively.

Right now, however, he reminds you more of a devil’s temptation.

His eyes of lavender nights are starry, a sort of blue flame dancing in them, the adrenaline of coming up with a new song still pumping through his veins, despite his… usually grumpy demeanor; his smile is the edge of the sharp moon he sometimes resembled, pointy canines showing in the inevitable tilt of his cheeks.

Right now, your lover is shining, a radiant star drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

And you’d gladly burn for him.

And if you keep staring at him, you just might.

The racket of a passing train momentarily pulls you out of your daze, the biting wind its stella leaves behind making the subway station all too real again.

Despite it not being an objectively pleasing place to find yourself in, you found a sense of comfort in it.

Perhaps it was the inherent oldness that came with it, graffiti littered walls telling endless stories, some of them still being written with the passing of that corporate worker carrying a briefcase, or that busy student that rushed past every morning, wishing life was easier.

Of course, this place, the trains, these walls, witness your story too. Only they know the desire in your heart when you look at him, and the erratic telltale pace of your infatuated heart.

You squeeze his hand now, tugging on it, a silent plea to retreat to a less conspicuous place.

He turns towards you, head tilted to the side, an answer to your unspoken question.

And because it’s you, he lets himself be guided to the violet shadows of this underground tunnel.

“Kanata…” You utter, a whisper lost in the loudness of train tracks, your lips on his, temporarily concealed by the train you two should have taken.

He burns. His cheeks, his lips, his heart.

And even if he was not one for public displays of affection, cozmez’s composer loves the sting of your searing mouth.

His hands go around your waist, finding hold on the skin right above your hips as he tilts his face to the side. Your hands are in his hair, slightly tugging on the silky lavender strands.

If it was on you, you’d let yourself be fully consumed by this moment, a dying star in bloom, prying eyes and judging stares be damned.

And Kanata would too.

But you are his alone. He doesn’t want this beautiful flame to be witnessed, snuffed or blown away before his eyes.

“Fuck…” Your boyfriend lets out, tone hoarse, like you adored it during his fast verses or in the quiet of shared mornings. “[Y/n]... Wait… Let’s go home… And continue there…” He manages, in between your teeth sinking on his lips.

Reluctantly, you pull away, pupils blown wide, lilac stars in your eyes as you take his pretty face in.

No train ride had ever felt so eternal.

—

The beat up door of Kanata’s apartment shuts with a careless clang, your back slamming against it as your partner’s hand rests beside your head, the other sneaking under the shirt you borrowed from him, in ways that were less than holy.

Utterances of his name leave your lips, skin flushed in the shades his mouth trails from your jawline to your collarbones, your head thrown back in starry bliss.

You chase after his lips desperately, fumbling with the fabric of his jacket, as your fingertips trace the lean muscles his black tank top leaves exposed.

Kanata lets out a groan the moment you tug on the elastic holding his hair back in a half up bun, both of his hands cupping your face now.

You can feel the softness of them, even if he didn’t really take special care of his skin.

“Need you…” He mutters, forehead touching yours. The sweaty strands of his hair stick to your own face, you, burning up as much as he is.

A string of saliva joins your lips even in parting.

You want more.

You need more of him, him, him.

And he does too.

No words are needed before your legs wrap around your angel’s waist, as his hands firmly scoop your thighs.

You relish in the sweet little whimpers and groans leaving Kanata’s lips, for anticipation beats with every pound of your heart against your ribcage.

You know you’re going to be the one screaming his name the moment he lays you down over his makeshift bed.

Hands you had held endless times as tears used to stream down his cheeks on nights where all he knew was a dark empty world, waste no time slipping your (actually his) t-shirt over your head.

Fallen roses bloom on the contours of your black, lacy, bra with every nibble and bite of Kanata’s small fangs over your skin.

And you know he’s entirely, irrevocably, consumed by frenzied addiction; the pull of you, him, afloat in nightly waves commanded by every curve of you his lips graze.

Like a starry sea with smokey clouds dimming its moon, you momentarily look away from your lover.

“Kanata…” You begin, with him hovering over you, arms on each side of you. “I…” Tears of stardust cling to your lashes, pieces of a shooting star over fields of violet.

His eyes widen in worry. Did he hurt you? Is anyone after you?

One of your arms reached out, fingers tangling in the silken locks of his bangs.

“You did perfect,” You reassure him, detecting his state of alert. “But am I… good enough?” Your voice cracks a little, remnants of a shattered crescent in the tears staining your pretty face.

“What are you saying?” He frowns.

To Kanata, you were moonshine filtering through the cracks of his foggy window on starless nights. You are one of his main reasons to wake up every day, yours is the hand he reaches for when sunrise arrives.

Now it’s him returning the affectionate gesture from before, fingers brushing your brow as he combs your fringe away.

“Shut up…” He lets out. Soft, not his usual pouty answer when you teased him. “You’re more than enough, you’re my everything.” Are the words whispered in the starlit space between you.

The angel’s invisible wings wrap around you; a tight embrace, his protective arms circling you like a warm lit halo.

A few seconds pass.

Flecks of amethyst dance between your gazes.

In a world gone wrong, you found each other’s melodies.

Maybe just for once, the fates were on your side.

He kisses you again.

His arms never letting you go.

#paradox live #paradox live x reader #paralive imagines #paralive #paralive x reader #pararai #prri #kanata yatonokami #kanata yatonokami x reader #kanata x reader #paradox live fanfiction #paradox live headcanons #paradox live imagines #paradox live cozmez #cozmez #paradox live the animation #hailey writes

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whirligig-girl · 1 year

Photo

Commission for @trydianth of Entrapta operating tiny trains (since she loves tiny food so much!)

Image ID: Entrapta from She-Ra is grinning and fiddling with some train cars on her model train set. Entrapta is a tan-skinned woman with pink hair in large prehensile tentacle-like pony tails. Her regular hands are on the train layout table but she’s messing with the train cars with her hair. She’s also using her hair to control the model railway’s power transformer, which is hooked up to a First One’s crystal. The train layout contains a yard with three sidings with five freight cars and a purple tank engine. It also contains a loop that goes back and forth between a simplistic diorama of dark purple Dryll castle on the left and of Brightmoon castle on the left, with a small diorama of the Whispering Woods’ dark blue trees in the foreground. There’s a spur track that runs off-screen with the ominous reddish glow of the Fright Zone. A pretty streamlined tan, white, and gold train is coming from that line. On the loop line near Entrapta is seven freight cars and a scary looking military-green diesel with a Horde insignia. End Image ID.

Under the cut are some detail close-ups and artist’s notes.

Flatbed of First Ones Tech, FZR Boxcar, two unnamed vans, a refrigerated Salineas Fisheries boxcar, an unnamed tank wagon, a gondola of snow from the Kingdom of Snows, a Fred Pelhay Coal Co. truck for some reason, a Plumeria Products boxcar, and a Freight Zone Rail Road boxcar with graffiti reading She-Ra was Here.

A Freight Zone Rail locomotive and an old industrial shunter tank engine from Dryll Quarry.

Bright Moon Railway’s cab-forward streamliner, coming from the Fright Zone. Does that make sense? Perhaps not, but I hasten to remind the viewer that this is just Entrapta’s toy model.

I definitely put more detail into this than I intended to! It was going to be a lot simpler, but by the time I got to drawing and then perspective-skewing an actual model railway layout with sidings and switches I realized this was going to take a while. I wasn’t quite sure what to do for the engine visual style. At first the locomotive positioned next to the Dryll tank engine was going to be a big Dryllian steam engine, but I decided it’d be better to show a big scary Horde diesel.

I used steam engines for the good guys and a diesel for the bad guys soley and completely because i am thomas the tank engine-brained because I just like the look of steam engines! There’s no realistic reason why there should be steam traction in Etheria, rather than something entirely magical--but then, steam engines just look better in fantasy settings in my opinion! I can justify it, after-the-fact though: magic is everywhere in Etheria, but it can’t be harnessed by everyone (during the events of the series). Sometimes transportion has to be done through mundane means. And it’s not like we see any big power plants on Etheria, so electricity is out. Entrapta’s one of the only people who uses first one’s tech to power her inventions--otherwise we see no powerplants in Dryll. So. Wood or coal or magic-crystal powered steam engines! Yipee!

Obviously they’re all electric powered in this model, though.

#She-Ra #SPOP #Entrapta #Train #model train #model railway #autism #neurodiversity #commission #model railroading

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1863-project · 3 months

Note

Were the Battle Subway trains based on any specific real-life train? Or is it just different design elements from different trains?

Hi, anon! If you've seen the posts I've written that are linked on the Submas masterpost, I've touched on this a little bit here and here.

I don't know if they were meant to be a specific model, and they're certainly not designed to look exactly like the NYC MTA's trains. Here's my screenshot from Bulbapedia with the exterior visuals:

For reference, our cars don't really have those little skylight things on top, and generally look like this:

These are R-42s on their retirement run in 2020. They're pretty exemplary of what most NYC Subway cars look like, with smooth roofs and flat faces and generally no coloring on the sides (except for when people draw graffiti, but things haven't really been as colorful as they were in the 1980s in that regard for a long time).

In NYC, we denote our lines with colors and letters/numbers, but those generally sit in the windows of the train on signs and aren't painted on the car bodies.

I've pointed this out before, but the vintage car actually looks pretty close to a lot of the older equipment that used to run out here. You can look through some photos at the New York Transit Museum's online catalogue and see what I mean.

Here's a photo I took of one of their Arnines back in December:

These bad boys date to the 1930s. I've been on them a couple of times when they're in operation and they're a delight to behold. But the car on the turntable there looks even older...perhaps a wooden one, from when the trains in NYC were elevated, or a Composite, the cars that were part-wood and part-steel and had a copper sheathing to protect them from fire, with which the NYC Subway opened in 1904. Note in this drawing that the Composite DOES have the little skylights.

In general, I believe the Battle Subway cars are based more on Japanese railcars than NYC Subway ones, and I'm not as familiar with their rolling stock, but on the rare occasions I do post my art you'll probably notice that I use the NYC Subway as a reference because I am committed to realism and am abnormally attached to my own local public transit.

#replies #Pokemon #Submas #I like trains #NYC Subway

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falcqns · 5 months

Text

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter one

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy finds Tamara, not as a 17 year old, but as a newborn. She immediately takes her in, and vows to give her the childhood and support that she deserves.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, mentions of drug overdose, and drug addiction, death (not a main character though dw), Lucy is a hardcore swiftie,

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Title is from Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift

Lucy stood on the side walk, hands on her duty belt, and eyes on her current training officer, Scott Wrigley as he asked the woman they had just pulled over to see her licence, registration and proof of insurance. The woman willingly, gave him the documents, and Lucy found her attention wandering away from the woman in the car, and surveying the area they were in.

Lucy, truthfully, was bored. While Tim was hard on her, he was a good, solid cop, that did the job because he wanted to make a difference in the world. Wrigley, while also a good, solid cop, was only there for a pay check. He was there to write tickets for 12 hours a day, get paid, and go home to his children without a scrape on him. And while Lucy respected that, it just wasn’t for her. She wanted to make a difference, and sitting here, taking only the tame calls, was not doing that. She knew she just had to stick it out for a little longer, and Tim would be back, but she was starting to think she was going crazy.

So crazy that she was now having auditory hallucinations. Auditory hallucinations of a baby crying.

They were in the middle of nowhere, which was rare in Los Angeles. All that was here was empty, and long abandoned warehouses. There was no reason for a baby’s cry to be heard around here. Lucy shook her head, trying to get the noise to stop, and focus back on her temporary TO.

“You hear that, Chen?” Wrigley asked, stopping as he was walking back to the car.

“Hear what, sir?” She responded, expecting him to say something dumb like ��the silence of a calm day,’ or something like that, just to unintentionally rub it in her face that she was bored out of her fucking mind with him.

“The baby crying,” he said, and Lucy stopped. He could hear it too? She thought to herself. If he could hear it too, that meant one of two things. 1) they were both going insane, or 2) the baby’s cry that she was hearing was from an actual baby. And she knew which one was more likely than the other.

“Yes sir, I do.” She said, looking around. “Do you want me to go find where the baby’s cry is coming from?”

Wrigley furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would we do that?” He questioned.

“Isn’t…that why you mentioned it?” She asked, thoroughly confused. “Look where we are. All that is here is empty and abandoned warehouses, why would we be hearing a baby cry here? We should be making sure that everything is okay before we leave.”

Wrigely smirked at her. “Good job, Chen.” He said, and Lucy dug her nails into her palm to stop her from rolling her eyes. He was testing her. “Go check it out while I fill out this paperwork.” She nodded, and headed off in the direction that she heard the cry.

The cry was growing louder as she turned the corner, ending up in an alleyway between two abandoned warehouses, covered in graffiti. She continued to follow the cry as she approached a dumpster. Her stomach was in knots. Surely if it was a parent and their baby, she would have heard the parents voice, right? Surely no one would have left their defenceless and helpless infant to fend for themselves, right?

Wrong.

Lucy walked to the other side of the dumpster, and she gasped, her heart pounding. On the ground, beside the dumpster, was a baby, who couldn’t be older than a few hours old, judging by the umbilical cord still attached, and how the baby, who upon closer inspection was a girl, was haphazardly wiped off and placed in a broken wicker basket.

Next to her, was very obviously her mother. There was a pool of blood covering her upper thighs and the ground underneath her, and used needles spread around the scene, including one still stuck in her upper arm. Lucy grabbed her radio, and pressed down.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-19 requesting an RA and a supervisor at Cromer Lane, in the first alleyway on the left, I have a 10-50, code 3.” Lucy placed her radio back, and crouched down next to the baby, doing her best to comfort the little girl without picking her up, despite how much Lucy wanted to.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” She whispered, reaching into her duty belt for a pair of gloves. She slid them on her hands, and reached over to the baby’s mother in order to try and see if she could feel a pulse. Her heart broke for the sobbing baby girl when she couldn’t feel one.

She heard sirens in the background, as well as boots hitting the ground, clearly Wrigley running to see what was happening after hearing her call on the radio.

“Oh my god.” He whispered from behind her.

“I need something to wrap the baby in,” She said to Wrigley, and he started to retreat, mumbling something about grabbing an emergency blanket from the shop.

He returned less than a minute later, and Lucy grabbed the package from him, ripping it open. She shook the blanket to get it to unfold, before she wrapped the small infant up, holding her close to her chest, hoping some of her body heat would transfer through the blanket.

The sirens got closer, and Lucy began to see the flashing lights reflected on the brick wall across from her. Wrigley was talking to her, but she wasn’t hearing or processing anything coming out of his mouth. All that she could focus on was the tiny little baby in her arms, who was calmed down, and was just staring up at her, her small brown eyes looking up into Lucy’s.

“It’s gonna be okay,” She whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.” She heard the doors of the ambulance open behind her and paramedics rush to her side. A female paramedic crouched down next to her, and began to ask her questions about the baby and her mother.

“She seems to be okay, physically at least.” Lucy rambled, her eyes not leaving the tiny baby. “She can’t be more than a few hours old.”

The paramedic nodded. “Judging by the shaking, I’m assuming her mother was using her entire pregnancy.” Lucy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She watched carefully as the paramedics cut the umbilical cord, and then continued working on trying to resuscitate her mother, with no success.

They gave her 2 doses of Narcan, did CPR, and tried the AED, but nothing worked. She was gone, and had probably been gone since before Lucy and Wrigley arrived on scene.

“We have to take her to the hospital,” The paramedic beside Lucy stated, standing up. Lucy did the same, as Grey and Wrigely walked up to her.

“I’m coming with,” she stated.

“Boot-“ Wrigley replied, clearly frustrated with how hard headed she was being.

“I’m going.” She stated, firmer. She then turned to Grey, and looked at him for approval. He nodded at her, a smile on his face.

“Go with her, Chen.” He said. “Let us know if theres any updates.”

Lucy smiled. “Yes, sir.” She said, before following the paramedic, and climbing in the back of the ambulance. They were pulling away a few moments later, and were headed to St Stephens.

Lucy was able to stay with the baby until they reached the NICU. She was then told that they needed to do an assessment on the infant, but that someone would come and grab Lucy when she was able to go see her. She sat down in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair, and glanced around at the other families in the NICU. She didn’t know any of their stories, but they all had one thing in common; they were here because they wanted their baby to be okay.

And while that tiny little baby wasn’t Lucy’s, Lucy was the one who found her, who called for help, who held her and comforted her when she needed it the most. She had no one at the moment, so there was nowhere else Lucy would rather be than here, supporting this little girl.

“Officer Chen?” A voice said to the right of her. She looked up, and stood up when she saw the doctor.

“Yes?” She said, coming face to face with the nurse in charge of the infant. “Is she going to be okay?”

The nurse smiled. “She is very lucky, officer.” Lucy let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding at that. “She is very healthy. She does have traces of meth in her blood, but it is a very minuscule amount. It should leave her system within the next 8 to 24 hours.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay. Thats good. I was thinking the worst.”

The nurse nodded. “She is a very lucky little girl. I have contacted DCFS, and they are going to send someone as soon as they can, it appears that they are very backed up at the moment. Is there anything you need from me?”

“Uh,” Lucy stuttered, racking her brain for the protocols to follow in this situation. “No, not right now. I will have to wait for my supervisor or training officer to proceed, but in the meantime, am I able to go sit with her?”

The nurse nodded, and began to turn. “Of course, follow me and I’ll take you to her.” Lucy began to follow the nurse down the hallway. “Actually,” the nurse said. “Would you be up to kangaroo cuddling with her? Being so young, she definitely hasn’t had skin to skin with anyone, and skin to skin is very beneficial to an infant as young as her.”

Lucy found herself nodding immediately. “Of course, whatever she needs.” Lucy trailed after the nurse into the dark and quiet NICU room, glancing at the two other bassinets in the room, each with what she presumed to be family around them, either gazing into the bassinet, or holding their baby. Lucy’s eyes met the bassinet holding the baby she had found, and her heart broke seeing the infants tiny body with wires and tubes coming out of her body, even though she had much less equipment than the other two infants in the room.

“She’s so small,” Lucy whispered, looking into the bassinet.

“She’s actually the biggest baby on the ward at the moment.” The nurse said, pointing to the chair for Lucy to sit in.

“So she was full term then?” Lucy said as she laid her duty belt on the table next to her, and unbuttoning her uniform shirt.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, she was. And perfectly healthy, other than the meth in her system, which is surprising. It seems that her mother did try to abstain from drug use while pregnant, but she most likely slipped up towards the end.”

“Wow.” Lucy said, taking off her white undershirt and laying it on top of her uniform shirt. “That’s not something I see too often.”

“Me either,” The nurse agreed, as she lifted up the infant and tucked her legs up, bringing her over to Lucy. Lucy opened her arms, and let the nurse rest the baby on her chest. Lucy immediately wrapped her arms around the baby, cuddling her as close as she could without hurting her. The nurse then laid a light pink blanket over the two of them with a smile.

“If you need anything, just press the nurses button, and someone will come and check on you. And I will come and get you as soon as DCFS or your superiors show up.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes not leaving the baby. “Thank you.” The nurse nodded, and headed out of the room. Lucy slowly began rocking back and forth in the chair, looking intently at the baby, who was wiggling around, head bobbing up and down on Lucy’s chest as she tried to get comfortable.

Once the baby found a comfortable position, she opened her tiny mouth in a big yawn, and shut her eyes, falling asleep within seconds on Lucy’s warm skin. Lucy chuckled quietly, and began rubbing her hand up and down on her back, letting her get some well deserved sleep.

After a few minutes of silence, there was a crash in the hallway from a cart crashing into a wall, and the baby jolted awake, before bursting into tears. Lucy immediately sat up, and hushed the baby in her arms.

“You’re okay, sweet girl,” she whispered. “I know, that was loud, huh?” The baby hiccuped, and her tears slowly began to stop. Her eyes were open, and Lucy smiled. “It’s okay.” She continued speaking to the infant. “You’re safe with me.” She leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

The baby yawned again, and Lucy smiled at her, cupping the back of her head, rubbing her thumb back and forth against her soft skin.

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go,” Lucy began to sing, her eyes not leaving the baby. “When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don’t leave me here alone.

“But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight,” The baby didn’t move, just continued to stare up at Lucy as she sang. “Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.”

A lump formed in Lucy’s throat as she gazed down at the infant in her arms. She couldn’t understand how lucky she was that Lucy was near the warehouse when she was. Despite being in Los Angeles, it was still December, and the temperature plummeted at night time, and had she been out there a few more hours, she would have died.

And now, this tiny, defenceless orphan, who’s life only started today, had no one. Had no mother, more than likely no father, and she was about to go into the foster care system if DCFS couldn’t find a next of kin within a few days. And what made it worse, was how Lucy was already dreading putting her down. She didn’t want to put this baby down. She wanted to keep holding this little girl. She wanted to take her home, love her, protect her, and raise her.

She took a deep breath as the baby’s eyes fluttered shut, and fell back into a peaceful sleep. She thought about offering to take her in, at least until DCFS found next of kin for her, if they were able to at all. She could, she was an emergency foster parent, and had been since she turned 20. She had an apartment in a safe part of the city, and made more than enough money to support the two of them.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said to the baby. “You’re gonna come home with me, and I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

#natashasera #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fanfic #the rookie fanfiction #tamara colins fanfiction #melissa oneil #eric winter #dylan conrique

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xeenybobean · 11 months

Text

"Behind that mask"

Miles Morales x Reader

Word count: 3k

This is an updated version! the original prompt was given to me by my friend @peachyfimls

Original prompt: can you do a miles morales x reader where the reader finds out hes spider man and his reaction?

It's a bit short!

Tags: @peachyfimls @sodapopzds @bluenotes75 @r3allytir3d @girl-calmdown

[if you wanna be tagged in future posts pls dm or comment!]

Summary: You and Miles have been childhood friends since birth, your mother and Miles’s mom Rio have been best friends since high school and have done everything together and the two of them are both in touch to this day. Once you and Miles were born the two of them wanted to get you both together so you would always stay at his apartment and she would always stay at your place. You both grew closer and closer together did everything together, and told each other everything, you were there for him and he was there for you. You both were stuck like glue never leaving each other's side but once you guys got to high school you notice a shift in your childhood best friend, Whenever you asked he never answered he would just brush it off like it was nothing.

You soon noticed the habits he picked up on avoiding you was one of them but you understand what you did wrong, you slowly began to realize he was hanging out with a girl named Gwen Stacy. You didn’t think much of it because you knew Miles loved you he was your childhood friend after all what was going on..? You were now in his room waiting for him in his apartment complex, the two of you were supposed to discuss a new idea for a graffiti art piece you two wanted to do at the abandoned train station but of course, he was late so you decided to snoop around...

⚠Warning!!⚠: NONE! Complete fluff | friendship bonding| love the fluff!! Since I had an angst one here's some fluff for you guys! |

“Now you know..sometimes we must keep things a secret to protect the ones we want the most.”

Here you were in his room waiting anxiously. You bit your lip gently and sighed and you looked at your phone waiting for your friend as you lay down in his bed smelling his scent from his blankets. “Where are you, Miles?..” You mumbled softly as you slowly sat up seeing his mother Rio coming in with a warm smile on her face. She could tell you missed him, it was written all over your face clear as day.

“Hey. I brought you some snacks..” she said softly as she placed a small kiss on your forehead the scent of freshly fried Arepa's filled Miles’s room. You began to drool slightly as you sat up fully as took the plate out of her hands gently.

“Thank you..” You whispered as you looked at her and she looked at you with a large smile as you took an Arepa and bit on one of the corners and instantly felt in heaven... Rio’s cooking was your favorite whenever you weren't at home. You wouldn’t want to eat anywhere that wasn’t at Miles’s home. You smiled and looked at her swallowing the bite you just took. “Good as always Mrs. Morales.” You smiled as she smiled back at you and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

“Of course. I’m sure Miles will be here soon..just stay tight amor.” her voice was soft as she pressed one last kiss on your forehead and left the room. You sighed and continued to eat the plate of freshly fried Arepas Rio made you. Once you finished you placed the empty plate on Miles’s nightstand. You began to grow bored as you stood up slightly and looked around his room to find his sketchbook. You chuckled slightly and grabbed it gently. Usually, Miles would hide his sketchbook from you let alone let you look inside of it for some odd reason.

You then sat back down on his bed and started flipping the pages skimming through his messy sketchbook gently as you stumbled on a drawing of Gwen, you flipped to the next page to see another and another, and another. The man was this boy lovesick. You sighed as you continually saw photos of Gwen drawn in his sketchbook with hearts all around her. “This is the girl you like huh Miles?..” you chuckled to yourself as you flipped the last page of his sketchbook to see something falling out.

You looked down at the floor and placed his sketchbook down as you stared at a Spiderman mask that was from a costume. You grabbed it gently and sniffed it to smell it reeked of sweat as you gagged slightly regretting your decision. You tilted your head slightly as you placed the mask on your lap.

“Why would he have something like this in the back of his sketchbook..” You wondered as you opened the last page that held the mask as your eyes grew wide, it was Miles. Wearing a Spiderman suit. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Was your childhood best friend Miles Spiderman? You instantly closed his sketchbook and placed it back where you found it as you continued to hold the damp mask in your grasp. You began to rethink, trying to think back to when the other Spiderman appeared in Brooklyn. You examined it, it looked like the same one the teen wore along with the other Spidermen that you saw on the news. It then clicked. Miles Morales. Your childhood friend was Spiderman.

You placed the mask under his sketchbook quickly hearing his doorknob jangle a bit. You wiped your sweaty hands as you stared at the door. Once it opened you were looking at your best friend..he had this dumb smile on his face as he latched himself onto you tightly. You were taken aback as you tumbled lightly, leaning on the wall for support.

“I missed you Y/N..” he spoke softly as he rested his head on your neck breathing in your warm scent..your perfume and your natural scent filled his nose and he instantly calmed down. You looked at him a bit confused, he wasn’t touchy nor affectionate towards you as he started to talk with Gwen and hang out with her instead. You slowly wrapped your arms around him gently as he gripped you tighter.

“Everything ok Miles? You're not usually this..touchy with me anymore ever since you've been hanging out with Gwen..” You mumbled feeling a little bit jealous as you felt him chuckling against your skin as you felt his gaze on yours.

“You jealous or something Y/N?” He teased as he inched a bit closer your noses almost touching as you stared at him with a confused expression on your face, he was never like this maybe he just wanted to mess around. You didn't know.

“Maybe I am jealous, I am your childhood best friend remember..not her.” you slowly pried Miles out of your grasp as you sighed and sat on his bed while swinging your legs back and forth gently. “You stopped hanging out with me and saying hi to me ever since she transferred what or how do you think that makes me feel? And now I find out your Spiderman? What are you gonna tell me next, that you have a secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding?” You said sarcastically as you looked at Miles.

Bro was pale as a rock. Frozen like a statue, he didn’t know whether to be happy or confused, has he always wanted to tell you? Yes, but his identity was supposed to remain secret. He promised Peter. He blinked a few times registering what you said to make sure he wasn’t hearing things as he walked towards you.

“H-how did you find out..” he mumbled softly as he crouched down to meet your gaze, his eyes were filled with panic and worries and you could feel his aura radiating off of his body. You needed to calm him down as soon as possible before he started spiraling.

“Your sketchbook..” you mumbled softly and sighed slouching your shoulders as you looked away from your friend. “I know you said I couldn’t look but. I was bored and you were late so it just piqued my interest! Then. I saw the mask and put the pieces together, why you were absent., always late..you not having human-like symptoms, your nightmare about his parents being killed by villains, etc..” you smiled faintly and looked at your friend as you felt his bed shifting slightly as he was now sitting next to you, his hands locked with his own as he hunched his back down staring on the floor.

You hated to see him in this state. You slowly ran your hand up and down his back gently as his body leaned against your lap. You looked down at him to see his gaze facing down instead of looking at you. You could tell he was processing a lot and what to say as he scrunched his eyebrows.

You began to slowly make your way to his hair as you began to play with his curls gently as he leaned into his touch gently his glossy eyes slowly making their way to yours. He was too precious for this world. You thought to yourself as you felt his hand holding yours gently you could feel the sadness radiating from him. You looked at him and smiled weakly and tried to change the mood of the room.

“I think it’s pretty cool if I'm being honest Miles..” You said softly as his attention went to you instantly you could see his worries wash away like nothing as he smiled at you widely his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours.

“Really?.. Do you think so?.. You aren’t upset at me?” you couldn't help but pinch the bridge of his nose and kiss his temple lightly as his cheeks slowly turned red, he looked at you in shock but his shocked expression changed to a smile as he continued to stare at you.

“Why would I be upset at you? Your my childhood best friend you have a good soul... Am I a little upset you didn’t tell me sooner? Yes, I am but..now I know. my best friend is fucking Spider-man how cool is that! Not everyone can say that they are personally close to a hero you know? I promise to not tell anyone you can trust me, dork.” You teased as he tackled you hugging you tightly and pushing you onto his bed. You felt him resting his face in your neck as you wrapped your arms around his torso to secure him in place you chuckled lightly seeing him in this sensitive attention-seeking touch-starved state. You slowly began to rub his scalp gently in circular motions as you heard him whimper into the crook of your neck.

“I’ve wanted to tell you so bad. It hurt me so much to not tell you..so bad. You had no idea the number of times when I had to lie to you broke my heart. sometimes we must keep things a secret to protect the one we want the most. Please understand..” your heart began to melt as you squeezed him tiger chuckling slightly as you kissed his forehead gently causing him to whimper just a bit as he hid his face in your neck still breathing in your scent.

“I understand Miles..don’t worry, your secret is safe with me forever and always... I'm so proud of you.” with those few words, he felt pride swelling his chest as he got out of your grasp and stood up taking his jacket off to reveal his Spiderman suit as he pulled his mask down to cover his face. You sat up and blinked slightly a bit confused about what he was doing let alone if someone would see.

“What are you doing? Someone can see you..” You said in a low hushed tone as you stared at his hand a bit confused you chuckled slightly taking his hand as he pulled you up out of his bed. Your body pressed against his as you heard him laughing through his mask.

“How about we take a swing yea? Show you how cool this is,” he said, before you could even register or think of a response he flicked his web to open the window, and off you both go. His arm was surrounding your waist gripping you tightly as he began to swing out of his room connecting his web to a nearby building as the two of you swing through the loud city of your home. You latched your arms around his neck tightly closing your eyes shut as you heard him laugh once more.

“You’ll miss the view if you keep your eyes closed! This is the best part of being Spiderman! Cmon just open your eyes for a quick second and if you don’t like it you can close them until we get to the train station alright?” he said as he continued to swing from one building to the next, the wind blowing through your body as you felt your heart racing, you didn’t want to open your eyes but you trusted your friend so you did what he suggested and boy did you instantly regret it. You began to scream and wailed as you felt his grip on your waist tightening your screams soon began to overlay with his sweet warm laugh, he shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe do keep your eyes closed..” he said chuckling softly as he swung from building to building as the sounds of the chaotic city began to die down... Once you both arrived at the abandoned train station he landed on the ground perfectly.

“You can open your eyes now.” he sighed chuckling still, you were practically clinging onto him like a baby, and your eyes began to twitch as you slowly opened them to see how close and tight you were holding onto your friend, you felt your cheeks heating up as you laughed awkwardly as you stood on the ground.

“We are never doing that again..” You said panting slightly as you bend over, your hands on your knees as you tried your best to catch your breath and slow down the pace of your racing heart. You heard Miles’s laugh echoing through your ear as he patted your back gently.

You couldn't even say anything until you felt his hand holding yours as he pulled you into the dark abandoned train station the two of you spent the rest of the day together graffitiing the sides of the station. Even though your childhood best was Spiderman you couldn’t love or care for him any less..it didn’t matter if he savers people. In your eyes, he was a hero already. And he trusted you with his whole heart something you would never give up or change whether he was a hero or not.

The bond between the two of you grew and grew, Miles showed you all the new tricks he could do in the air with his webs, and all the flips and combo attacks just amazed you more and more.

He liked showing off to you, he says it makes him feel good about his hard work and you couldn’t blame him. He was a hero after all..he was lucky to have you by his side wherever he felt guilty after missions, whenever he felt upset or sad he would swing by your place in the middle of the night to cuddle.

Whenever he got injured he went to your place to get patched up while also getting a tongue lashing out of you but he knew it was because you cared so much. He was a hero and you were his nurse.

He sleepovers almost every night after his patrol

Random jump scares seeing him hanging on your window

Brings you snacks after his patrol as a way of saying ‘thanks’

Lots of cuddles after a long day of saving the city

He loves loves loves when you tell him how proud you are of him, it makes him so happy and makes him push through it just so he can hear you say those three words.

You cover for him when his mother questions where he is on the phone. You were his backup excuse right off the bat if his mother questioned where he was.

You gave him advice when it came to him opening up to his parents about him being Spider-Man.

At this point, the boy should just live at your house cause he leaves everything at your place, his clothes, toothbrushes, computer, sketchbook, electronics, chargers and so much more stuff you had a buy a mini drawer for his clothes. That's how much he spends time with you after late-night patrolling.

Late-night calls, end in you comforting him and him staying the night at your place.

You were his ‘why’ was the person he wanted to protect the most besides his family.

He was glad you found out he was Spiderman because now your bond grew deeper than it ever was and you both supported and guided each other in the right path. Guess that's the perk of having a superhero as your best friend.

#spiderman #miles morales #x reader #miles morales x reader #fluff #xeenybobean writings #one shot #headcanon #beyond the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman into the verse

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kvthgok · 7 months

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Fate | Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)

warnings- none I think

Summary- Miguel noticed how close you are are w/ Miles and gets upset cause he knows what will happen to you *cough cough you dying* 😍

Side note- this one is a lil short soooo yaur and surprise surprise it’s not proof read 🤍

“You don’t know they could just be best buddy’s like us!” exclaimed Peter putting his arm around Miguel. He sighed and shook his head, taking Peter’s arm off him. He wasn’t to thrilled that Miles and you have been hanging out. Hanging out a little to much to be ‘just friends’. First it started with a few mission , hanging out while training, doing graffiti/painting , drawing together, then you guys started crashing at each others earth, just being too close in general.

“They’re obviously more than just friends Peter. Look at them now” he pointed. They both looked over and saw you and Miles giggling like toddlers while sitting on one of the tables in Miguel’s office together. Miguel didn’t exactly hate Miles though. He really does believe he is a good kid. “She’s blushing and giggling with Miles! No way I don’t buy the they’re not dating, look me in the eyes and try to tell me they aren’t.”

Peter silently stared at you guys, starting to see Miguel had a point.

“Oh? No response? Thought so” . He sat down in his chair putting his hands on face slowly sliding them down. Don’t get him wrong seeing you happy made him happy but it was the fact who you were clearly in love with is that fact that made him upset. Cause he knew what would end up happening to you. He already knew your Fate.

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tbcanary · 11 months

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Edit Requests: Helena Bertinelli in "Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood" for @misspickman

"He didn't know if he was a man who had been dreaming he was a butterfly..." "Or a butterfly dreaming he was a man. Yes, I've heard it before."

(ID under the cut.)

ID: Six animated banners with images pulled from Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood.

1: Helena Bertinelli stands off to the side in her Huntress uniform, holding a crossbow. Cursive script beside her reads, "Helena Rosa." Graffiti text slowly appears behind it, spelling out "INFAME."

2: Helena in a sports bra and sweat pants, training. She holds a crossbow in the first frame, which turns purple for a moment. The second frame shows her throwing knives, and turns purple immediately after. The third frame is a bull's eye with arrows embedded in the center. It turns purple last.

3: Two framed portraits of Helena. The first shows her as a small child, crying. The second is her in her Huntress costume. The two portraits are facing away from each other. Dozens of candles sit in front of the frames and the flames flicker randomly and intermittently. Text appears in three scrolling boxes and reads: "You want justice served? You want vengeance taken? You want honor restored? Then you do it yourself. That's omerta."

4: A large grayscale photo of a young Helena, being held by her mother Maria. In four frames beside it, Helena practices Tai Chi before curling up on the ground hopelessly. Each frame lights up in full color before turning gray.

5: A closeup of Helena's face in front of a purple background with repeating text at low opacity that reads "HUNTRESS." Scripted text lights up white one at a time before turning black: "A killer / Family / Your other half."

/End ID.

#helena bertinelli #huntress #batfam #birds of prey #dc #greg rucka #god i did really thoroughly enjoy this story. if you can't tell based on the amount of time i spent putting this together.#helena i CARE YOU #tbedits #tbanimation #editreqs #frankly. do not ask me how long i spent on this.#some of these bits. required drawing a lot of missing pieces in myself. a thing i am bad at. so: don't look too closely #anyway. good run good story had fun editing it thank you mossy for the rec/req <3<3 ily #flashing gifs #2023reads

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octuscle · 10 months

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I need to take a work trip to Germany, Leipzig to be precise. Should be a nice change from my NYC life.

I guess, your suitcase won't make it to Frankfurt... Then I guess I have to organize a replacement. Damn Airlines!

The only thing I can offer you so spontaneously is an old army backpack from GDR stocks, covered with graffiti tags, stickers and patches. Pretty heavy... And maybe not necessarily suitable for your classic suit… So, take your rucksckand head to the airport train station. Your train to Leipzig will depart in 20 minutes.

Shit, Frankfurt airport is bigger then expected. When you arrive, you thaught, that you missed your train. But luckily, the train is delayed by 15 minutes. Enough time, to relaxe. And for a smoke. You search the side pockets of the backpack. No cigarettes. But tobacco, cigarette paper. And weed. Shit, that could have ended badly at customs...

Ahh, smoking this feels great. I really needed to decompress a bit after this whole travel shitshow. Don't take offense, but a middelaged man in a conservative suit and a classic haircut smoking weed with an army backpack on the platform of the airport station looks a bit special... You have to admit that, too, when you see your reflection in the window panes of the high-speed train rushing in.

No one had told you that you had better have made a seat reservation. The train is packed. Getting a seat is out of the question. With a little luck, you will still get a seat in the dining car. You order a beer (what else in Germany) and check the contents of your backpack. On top of it lies a hat. It looks funny, you put it on. Otherwise, the backpack is not necessarily neatly packed. Everything is stuffed in more like this. There's a MacBook... You open it. And of course you know the password. Feels perfectly normal to open it. As normal as your pierced earlobes feel.

It is a low-coding platform open to any Big Data AI application. You scroll through the application. Sure, the prototype of an app for digitizing queues in doctors' offices. You open the library of useer stories and start developing the app further. A few hours ago, you had no idea about software development.

It's 9:00 p.m. when you look out the window. Gotha train station. Wherever that may be. You are looking at your reflection. Let's see what the others think of the fact that you have let the beard grow out...

The train is half empty by now. You have not even noticed how it has emptied. It's still a good hour to Leipzig. You close the computer. That's it for today. You order another beer and the vegan curry. Actually, you're also in desperate need of a joint. But of course you can't smoke anywhere on this train.

But you take tobacco, weed, cigarette paper and your cigarette case, which you inherited from your grandfather. And while you're waiting for the food, you roll a few joints on reserve. It will be after 11:00 p.m. by the time you arrive at your shared apartment. But you assume that you will sit together until 01:00 or 02:00. Your roommates are all rather night owls....

You don't notice that you're wearing high-laced DocMarten's boots instead of welted penny loafers as you step off the train. You also don't notice that your hair has grown considerably longer and falls tousled under your hat into your forehead... You pause for a moment as you see the tattoos on the back of your hand as you light up a joint to tide you over until the bus leaves. And after asking the bus driver for a ticket to Connewitz, you wonder if you actually just spoke German with quite an American accent.

The elevator in your house is of course defective again. Old building from 1873, last renovated in 1980 or so. That was long before the fall of the Wall in the GDR. But the rent is cheap. And the atmosphere is energetic and creative. When you met Kevin, Lukas and Emma at university five years ago, you were immediately on the same wavelength. Even though you didn't speak a word of German back then. You would never have thought that a semester as an exchange student would turn into a lasting collaboration. The fact that you found an apartment together where you could work on your startup at the same time was a real stroke of luck.

Upstairs in the apartment, Kevin already opens the door for you. As if he had been waiting for you.

„Sieht heute gut aus”, you say with your strange American accent.

Kevin hugs you and answers „Dude, it's good to have you back! We have missed you! Tell me, do you have new tattoos? Looks hot! And did you bring weed from Amsterdam? Our dealer is on vacation... Shitty situation!“

“Of course, i’d never leave you without”, I say, opening up the cigarette case and offering you one of the hand-rolled contents.

Kevin grins. „What do you say we smoke the first one not at the kitchen table but on your bed? I missed you, stud!“

“I’m so tired after this trip, so the bed sounds just right.”

There is nothing left of your suit right now. Yes, you are still from NYC. But you weren't a lawyer then. You studied computer science. And that was a long time ago. Now you are a Leipziger by heart

You both lie on the bed. You take a deep drag. And blow the smoke into Kevin’s mouth with a deep French kiss. The bulge in your skinny jeans looks painful. “Oh man, Kevin, I need some relief!” you growl.

It doesn't take long and we both have the tank tops off. You discover Kevins new nipple piercings. And can't stop playing with them. And Kevins bulge starts to hurt too.

“Man, let me provide some relief”, he says. And open your jeans. Your boner jumps out of your boxers like a jack-in-the-box.

Those new piercings… You just can’t help yourself… You’ve gotta feel them in my mouth! “Are they sensitive? Does it still hurt?” Kevin starts breathing more heavily. “What are you waiting for you prude Yank! They've been waiting for you for two weeks now!” You take a deep drag and blow the smoke over Kevins chest, which you caress with your tongue. Kevin moans “Fuck! You're doing so well! Sure it hurts. It's supposed to. You make me so fucking horny with your tongue! I love your tunnels on the earlobes!. I can not stop playing with them with my tongue.”

Dude, your dick is producing precum like a broken faucet. Kevin starts to massage it into your dick! You take one last drag from the joint, push the butt into the ashtray and blow the smoke over Kevins boner.

While Kevin rubs your hard dick, You begin licking his uncut cock. Damn man, these uncut European cocks will never not surprise you! Oh man, you love how it feels on your tongue.

Kevin doesn't stop breathing heavily, but still has to grin. “Fuck, admit it, you certainly didn't just talk about user interfaces with Milan and Sem in Amsterdam. You did practice your tongue game. Fuck, you know how to bring someone to ecstasy with the tip of your tongue!”

Oh man, Kevins precum just takes so good. You can’t get enough of it. Kevin reads your thoughts. “I want to lick your precum too. Let's make a 69! I need to suck your powerful circumcised cock.”

Yes, please!, you think in ecstasy. You just love how his balls feel in my mouth. And Kevin has fun to. You must have been sweating like a dog on the trip. Your balls are salty, your cock is deliciously cheesy. “Fuck, I can not tell you how I missed you.” Kevin moans.

He always feels so good, just keep going please, you think. His cock is so hard. His precum is spectacular. It’s like you’re in sync — in and out, in and out, in and out. “Fuck, your balls are so huge”, Kevin grunts. “I didn't jerk off all the time you ve been away. My balls are bursting”.

You both are perfectly synchron. Like one organism. “Please cum at the exact moment that I also cum. I want to make this old house shake.”, you think.You can’t wait to make you explode. Kevins moans “I can't take it much longer. Fuck, you are a master with your tongue. Fuck... Oh yeah... Yes! Fuuuuuuuck!”

Oh god! That was heavy. You both really try. But that was too much. Boy, what a load you both shot! Kevins cum is so thick! So potent! You ’ve got my whole mouth full, not able to swallow everything at once. You both exchange a deep French kiss. The cum runs from the corners of your mouths down our cheeks and necks. Kevin licks the cum traces from your skin. And you his. One last kiss, you pull up our pants again. And go to the kitchen with a joint. Lukas and Emma grin. The whole house could listen to you having sex.

“Incredible, as always, Kevin” You tell him, as you pass him the joint. And as if nothing had happened, you ask Emma if she has any new user stories for your app.

#male tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #male transformation

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