#i can write a quick drabble on whatever you want no cap | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bellafragolina · 2 years

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Hello Again!

Thank you for all of your amazing writing!!!

Can I get your thoughts/drabbles on a personal head canon of mine?

As we know Ingo gets isekai'd to Hisui, loses all his memories, yada yada. But what if after he's lived out his life in Hisui, he returns to present day Unova and regains all his memories and instantly goes back to Emmet and reader and is crying his eyes out, going on and on about how much he misses them, etc. But Emmet and the reader just kinda give him a puzzled look and are like "??? You just went on your 15 minute break???" Turns out Ingo had a Narnia situation where time passed differently in Hisui and when he returned to present day it was like he never left in the first place.

Thank you again for all the lovely writing you do. I wish I could like your writing more than once cuz ugh so good!! Have a good night/day!!!

~Copy

Hi, Copy! Thank you for the sweet compliments <3<3<3 I've got something just for you and that great idea of yours!!

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo stumbles when the light fades from his eyes. He's leaning against a wall, in a room full of two desks, and computers. Yes, computers. He knows what those are. He knows who he is. He works here, on those computers, in this station, the subway station! He works here with his brother-

EMMET!

Ingo bolts out the door, racing through the subway. He doesn't know how he got back, but he's thrilled. His memories are back, and he knows where he is. He knows who it is he's been missing for the past years.

Passengers stumble out of his way, and depot agents call to him, alarmed by his running, but he doesn't stop. He scours the crowds until he spots a white coat and cap amongst them. And the he sees his face, with a bright smile.

"EMMET!" Ingo shouts, the whole subway shuddering with the force of his voice. Emmet leaps ten feet in the air, but whips around, arms already lifting for the oncoming embrace. Ingo slams into Emmet, nearly knocking him over, and buries his face in his brother's neck. "Emmet! Emmet! My brother, Emmet. . ."

"I am Emmet." Emmet agrees, something hesitant in his voice. Ingo, already tearing up from their reunion, gives a confused sniffle. He's not as happy to see him. "Ingo? What happened?"

"I-I've been gone. . ." Ingo says, unsure of how to explain.

"It's not even been fifteen minutes!" Emmet says. He lifts his arm and checks his watch. Ingo does the same, realizing that he's back in his old uniform. It's spotless. He touches his chin. His goatee is gone. There's nothing on him that's remanent of where he just was. "Ingo, what's going on. . ?"

Ingo shakes his head. He can remember now. His fifteen minute break had started, the day he disappeared. He had just settled in to have a quick snack when there was a bright light, and then he was in Hisui, without memories. Arceus has sent him back, right to the moment he was taken. No time has passed at all.

"I-I fell asleep." Ingo lies, suddenly very aware of the eyes on them. "I-I think I had a nightmare. . ."

Emmet cocks his head, slipping off a glove to press against Ingo's forehead. "Are you getting sick?" He swipes away a tear from Ingo's cheek. "That's verrry unfortunate. Maybe you should go home."

Ingo starts to protest. He can't go home, he doesn't need to, he needs to stay with Emmet. Besides, you'd be. . . You. . . You. You! YOU!

"I-I will be departing shortly!" Ingo announces loudly, not bothering with whatever he left in his office. Instead, he beelines for the exit, taking the stairs three at a time. Emmet calls after him, confused, but Ingo is on a mission.

You. You. You. You.

His brain shows a film real of you and him, your dates, your marriage, your love. He had missed you without even realizing he had you. The emptiness of the bed, the coldness of the nights, the constantly wanting for affection he could never remember having before. It was heartbreaking, and now he could remember.

Ingo bursts through the door of your shared apartment, startling you from the couch. Your Pokémon flee from the sudden intrusion, but you're on your feet, already rushing towards your crying husband.

"Ingo! What's-"

Ingo scoops you up into his arms, bawling heavily into your shoulder. Here, in the comfort and privacy of his own home, he can truly let go. Everything he's felt for the past few years comes out to you, and you hold him through it. You drag him to the couch, and let him curl up into you, as though trying to absorb you into his very being.

"Missed you." He rasps, unable to hardly think past your scent and warmth and love. You kiss his head, and he blubbers harder. "I missed you. I missed you so much, my love, my darling, I-" He chokes on the words.

"Shh, shh." You hush him from speaking anymore. "You're okay, you're okay. I'm here, Ingo, I'm right here."

You're here, and so is Ingo. Even if you hadn't noticed his absence, he has. And he plans to indulge in everything you are, for as long as he can. He's gone long enough without it, and even if he couldn't remember, he's missed you so much.

He's so happy to be home again.

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo deserves some comfort. After all that probably happened in Hisui, he deserves a little loving.

I hope you enjoyed it, Copy!! Have a great day!!

~Renee

#ingo x reader #submas x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

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Wanted to challenge myself and write something under 500 words. Honestly just proud of myself that I managed to keep it below 1k. This is a win for me regardless. Sorry for the lack of writing from me lately, idk why I haven't been in the mindset to write. I've been doing nothing but rewatching Naruto lately, but idk I was in the mood to write something tonight so I chose a random prompt and challenged myself to keep it short. Enjoy!

Prompt: "i can't believe that you lied to me." w/ Legend and Hyrule.

Warnings: description of minor injury, fever, infection

-o-o-o-o-

They're trekking through the woods when it happens. It's sudden and unexpected, the sound of a body hitting the ground coming so much quicker than anyone can react. Fear shoots through Hyrule's veins as he spins around; his eyes immediately locking onto the very still and very limp-looking Legend.

"Vet!?" Warriors shouts out, but Hyrule is the first towards his body, skidding to his knees and grabbing his shoulders to push him onto his back—that way he's not breathing in lose dirt with his suddenly very quick and very short inhales.

"He's unconscious," Hyrule calls, his voice more shaky than he'd like. However, he can already feel worried tremors attacking his fingers as he desperately tries to figure out what's wrong.

The others urgently gather around one-by-one. Warriors pushes to the front of the others—and they willingly part as they know he has the most knowledge in field medicine. He presses the back of his palm against Legend's head and swears. "Fuck. He has a fever."

"What's wrong?" Wind asks in a small voice somewhere behind Hyrule, but his question goes unanswered as Warriors presses his fingers against Legend's neck to count his pulse.

However, the question doesn't go ignored. Not by Hyrule. His stomach tightens in a knot and he finds his bottom lip being worried between his teeth.

Legend told Hyrule not to tell the others... not to worry them with something trivial. But... there can't be any other reason he'd randomly pass out like this.

Hyrule shoots his shaking hands forward and grabs at Legend's belt. Warriors makes a shocked, inquiring shout as Hyrule unbuckles the belt and tugs the outer layer of his tunic up to expose his side. Warriors confusion quickly turns to intense concern as he sees what Hyrule has just exposed. In Legends side, near his hip, is a large cut in the fabric that reveals bandages underneath with stains of a sickening, unhealthy red.

Soon, at Warriors demand, Wild is cutting open the tear in the tunic even larger. Legend will be pissed at the loss of his tunic, but Warriors doesn't seem to want to jostle him around too much by removing the tunic normally. Once Legends chest is bare—covered in nothing other than a one-handed attempt at bandages—Warriors takes the dagger from Wild's fingers and carefully finishes the job himself by slicing open the white-stained strips of fabric.

What meets them under the fabric is festering, bloody, and bad.

"It's infected," Warriors snarls.

From there, it's Warriors commanding the others to get water and various ingredients for a makeshift wound cleaner as they're all out of red potions thanks to their last big ambush.

All Hyrule can do is sit there, unsure if the weight in his stomach is worry for his friend... or anger that he had been lied to.

It must be both, he decides.

-o-o-o-o-

Legend wakes up with a headache, feeling hot and cold all over. There's something wet on his forehead, but when he groggily reaches up to grab at whatever it is, a hand wraps around his wrist and pushes it back down. "You have a fever, dumbass."

Ah. Legend remembers now. He creeks his eyelids open and sure enough, a very unhappy Hyrule sits above him, his glare as sharp as daggers.

"You're an idiot," Hyrule says coldly. "You said you'd be fine. Next thing I know you're passing out in the middle of the trail. I can't believe you lied to me."

Legend sighs, and leans further back into the blankets spread under his body and rolled under his neck. He can only see Hyrule from where he weakly lays. He wonders where the others are... and if there's any chance they'll be able to save him from Hyrule's justified rage. Nah, they're all probably just as pissed.

"I didn't want to make anyone worry," Legend whispers, his voice scratchier than he expected. He supposes it's what he deserves—hiding his wound from everyone like that. It was by bad luck Hyrule caught him wrapping the wound after the ambush. He just... everyone else was much more wounded than he was, and he preferred the rest of their dwindled supplies be used on them. He's taken care of himself before.

He... just must have underestimated the state of the wound on his side. Perhaps the sword the moblin got on him wasn't as clean as it should have been?

"Well, looks like you royally failed, you shit-brain martyr," Hyrule hisses. "Now everyone is worried."

Legend desperately wants to sink into the ground and cease to exist. However, all he can do is try a weak "I'm sorry."

And bless Hylia for Hyrule being such a gentle soul. His eyes immediately soften. "Just... just don't do it again. We're... a team here. Your wounds are our wounds. We want to know when your hurt, no matter what. Warriors just barely managed to save your life this time."

Legend takes a shakey breath. "Okay. I promise."

Hyrule nods his head, all anger that had painted his body is now gone, replaced with companionable, smothering worry. "You should rest some more. It'll save you a little longer from the lecture Cap and the old man have for you. I heard Time practicing his, and it's not pretty."

Legend lets out a startled, exhausted laugh at that. It tugs on his side, but thankfully it's not as painful as what it was before he lost consciousness. Whatever Warriors had given him, it must be very good. Goddess above, his an idiot. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Something you need to learn how to start having," Hyrule teases, a twinkle in his eye.

Legend hums and closes his eyes, sleep already luring him in. "No promises there," Legend manages to mutter. He's completely overcome with unconsciousness before he can hear Hyrule's scolding.

#linked universe #hero of legend #hero of Hyrule #jin writes #fanfiction #ficlet #injury tw #blood tw

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mischief-managed-snitches · 3 years

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OBISPO LOSA

I needed more Bishop fics so I'm going to write some. Sorry not sorry, I just adore him and think he deserves some love. I did name the character in this story simply because it was easier for me personally to write (don't judge me, Y/N got confusing) but please, feel free to insert your own name. 😏

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Tiny bit of violence, Protects O/C from possible assult.

Spanish is not my first language, I know some things here and there but I am NOT fluent. Praying that everything makes sense to you.

I don't own Bishop or anything Mayans related. Just my original character and her story.

This is my first fanfic/drabble/whatever you'd like to call it, please be gentle.

Sweat dripped down Lily's back as she stepped away from her friends. They've been dancing all night and her legs were beginning to burn. She was hot. Way too hot. If she didn't get something cool to drink soon, she feared she'd pass out.

Weaving through the crowd, Lily found a spot by the bar, leaning against it patiently. It was busy tonight, busier than last weekend, and the poor bartender looked overwhelmed. People yelled from every direction, wanting his attention, wanting their drinks. Lily shook her head as someone yelled something obscene. It really wasn't the guys fault, this place should hire some more people to help him out.

Lily considered hopping over the bar to get herself some water, but between her heels and her tight dress, she decided that would be a diaster. Instead she hissed under her breath as another person elbowed her in the side. Shit. That one hurt.

"Are you waited on?" The bartended was back, yelling at her over the music.

Shaking her head, Lily leaned forward, "can I get three waters please?" Handing him some cash, Lily returned his polite smile. "Thank you!" A moment later, three plastic bottles were pressed into her hands, condensation dripping down the sides. Ice cold. Perfect.

Twisting the cap off one, Lily took a quick sip, nearly spilling it on herself as another person bumped into her. Recapping it, she swiped a hand over her mouth. Her friend had insisted that she come along tonight. Argued that a person wouldn't get to know the area by staying in and reading. She had a point and despite Lily's desire to stay home, she decided to come out with her friend. Now, as she got another elbow to the side, Lily was starting to regret it. It was getting late and she was tired and that cozy book nook was starting to sound better and better.

Turning to go back to her friends, Lily stopped short as someone stepped into her path. A man, tall and skinny with greasy blond hair blocked the way. He smiled at her, but unlike the bartender, it wasn't out of kindness or him trying to be polite. It was sly and menacing and the little hairs on the back of her neck prickled with apprehension.

"Excuse me." She forced a smile, eyes flicking toward the corner where her friends were still dancing. They'd never hear her if she yelled.

"Hold on a minute, baby, let me get you a drink."

"I'm good, but thank you." She held up the water bottles, attempting to walk around him. A large hand shot out, clamping down on her arm. Lily gasped, panic rising in her belly.

"I said hold on a minute." He growled, eyes narrowing, mouth twisting into a nasty smirk.

"Please don't touch me." She tried again with the politeness, trying to pull her arm back. Maybe he was just drunk. Her stomach dropped as his his steely fingers tightened, squeezing her arm in a vice-like grip. Lily dropped the waters, tears springing to her eyes as she looked up into a face full of bad intentions. Okay, not drunk, just mean.

"She said not to fucking touch her." Someone behind her snarled, startling Lily and the man holding her arm.

Both of their heads turned toward the person stepping up to her side. Tall, broad, and built, the guy looked like he'd have no trouble holding his own in a fight.

Not once did he look in Lily's direction, instead he stared the guy down. Stepping closer, he slid in between them, angling his body in a way that had Lily almost entirely behind him. Her chest nearly touching his back as it rose and fell rapidly, she wished she could just back away and disappear. The guys hand was still locked on her arm though, twisting it awkwardly around the man who had stepped between them.

Lily's eyes traced the patterned sewed on the back of his black, leather vest. Some kind of face looked back at her, green letters spelling out 'Mayans MC...' and something else, but before she could finish reading it her arm was being shoved back at her. Lily stumbled under the force of it. A hand landed on her shoulder, steadying her before she could fall. Looking back, Lily found two more men, both wearing vests like the one in front of her. They offered her sympathetic smiles, making sure she was steady on her feet before pulling away.

A shy smile tugged at her lips as she tried to convey with her eyes how thankful she was. They both nodded, looking over her shoulder as their... Boss? Lily wasn't sure exactly what the guy was to them, but his whole demeanor from the way he stood to the way he spoke screamed dominance. And these two, they seemed like easy, breezy goofballs.

Turning back to the man, Lily found him already facing her, scanning his eyes from her head to her feet and back again. Checking for injuries? Or checking her out... Again, Lily was felt anxious and unsure.

"Are you alright, querida?"

Lily nodded once, biting down on her trembling lip as she looked around.

"He's gone, you don't have to worry about him anymore." The man supplied, watching her shoulders drop ever so slightly. He eyed her carefully, she still looked tense, but he couldn't blame her for being shook up after what just happened.

The man before her stooped and grabbed the bottles of water she had dropped. Reaching around her, he handed two to the guys behind her, nodding toward the corner where her friends were. They were probably wondering where she got to at this point. Lily watched the men head in that direction. The crowd she had to fight her way through not ten minutes ealier parted like the red sea for the men in vest. Interesting. She must have looked worried because the man was stepping forward and pulling her attention toward him again.

"Leticia is a good friend of ours, her and her friend will be safe with the guys." Lily's eyes jumped from him to the backs of his friends as they walked away. From her spot near the bar, Lily could just make out Leti throwing her arms around one of the guys, laughing as they hugged in the middle of the dance floor. She obviously knew them, just like he said. Lily relaxed a bit more, allowing her tight shoulders to slump as she cradled her arm to her chest. The fear drained out of her as she looked back into the man's eyes, leaving her feeling exhausted and woozy.

"Wanna step outside? Get some air? You look ready to pass out." He gave her a soft smile, looking genuinely concerned for her, like he expected her to fall over at any moment.

Letting her eyes drop to his boot-clad feet before bringing them back up to his face, Lily considered walking outside with some she didn't know. Dressed in ripped jeans, a dark tee-shirt and that leather vest, he looked exactly like someone she shouldn't be hanging out with and yet, he was the one who intervened on her behalf.

Nodding at him again, Lily watched him turn and walk toward the door. Like the other two, the crowd seemed to part for him. No one bumped into him, or jabbed him with an elbow, in fact, no one even attempted to make eye contact. They all just scurried out of the way. Smiling to herself, Lily followed him out of the bar.

The two of them stepped to the left of the door, stopping just a few feet from the entrance. Well lit by a nearby street lamp, they stood in the direct eye of the public. Lily chalked another point up for him, his obvious attempts to make her less anxious didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Can I see it?" His voice slid over her, raising goosebumps in its wake. Deep, rich and smooth Lily wondered when the last time someone had effected her so much with just their voice. Maybe she was calming down, or maybe she couldn't hear him the best over the music when they were inside, but wow.

Leaning back against the rough brick of the building, Lily lifted her arm, holding it out to him silently. Dark eyes bore into hers just a second longer before he took a step closer, taking her wrist gently in his hand. Lifting his other hand, he carefully ran his fingers over the bruise. A sharp hiss escaped from between Lily's teeth.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, lifting his gaze back to hers, revealing sincere guilt.

"It's okay," she assured him, meeting his eyes.

Holding her wrist higher, he asked, "can you wiggle your fingers for me?" She did, slowly, but they all moved. "Good, doesn't seem serious, just a bruise. If the pain gets worse though definitely get it checked out, okay?"

Lily nodded again, "Thank you s-" her voice cracked and she immediately attempted to clear her dry throat and start over. The need to express her gratitude pushing through her discomfort.

"Hold on, take a drink." And suddenly he was releasing her wrist and twisting the top off the water bottle he had apparently been holding this whole time.

Lily nodded, holding it to her lips and swallowing a big gulp. It soothed her scratchy throat immediately and after taking another swig, she reached for the lid. He held it out to her, the cap looking even smaller sitting on the palm of his hand. Twisting it on, she sat the bottle at her feet. Resting her head back against the building, Lily pulled the a big breath into her lungs. She felt as if she had been holding her breath since the whole thing happened. With closed eyes, she let it out slowly before lifting her head and looking back at the man in front of her.

"What's your name?"

He winced. "When you didn't ask earlier, I assumed you knew who I was."

"How would I... Oh, Leti."

"She's at the clubhouse all the time, I thought maybe she told you about us or something."

"Sorry, I'm new to the area, I don't even know where or what the clubhouse is." Lily laughed then, feeling awkward. He grinned at her, his smile lifting his thick mustache. Watching her stroke a hand through her hair, he placed a hand on his chest.

"Obispo Losa, or Bishop to most people." Offering that same hand, he apologized again, "I should have introduced myself earlier, please forgive my lack of manners."

Not wanting to give him her sore arm, she held out her left hand instead. The handshake was sloppy and awkward, but his grin stretched, crinkling the corners of his eyes. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed a slow circle into the back of her hand.

"I... Uh... Lily." His smile only grew as she stammered, a dark eyebrow quirked as he waited for the rest of her name. Pinching her eyes shut, she dropped her head back against the building, pulling away from him to squeeze the bridge of her nose like she always did when she was frustrated.

A large hand enveloped hers, tugging it gently away from her face. Lily snapped her eyes open, surprised by his touch. He held her hand in both of his, begining to draw those circles angain with his thumbs. Bending his knees slightly, Bishop dipped his head in an attempt to meet her eyes.

"Just Lily, or do I get a last name?"

"Just Lily for now." She blushed under his intense gaze, shifting her eyes from his down to their hands.

"Well it's nice to meet you, just Lily." Lifting her hand to his mouth, he pressed two plush lips against her knuckles before releasing her altogether and taking a step back.

She was starting to look nervous again and the last thing Bishop wanted to do was scare her after the night she had. Not just tonight, not ever. He corrected himself mentally. An odd feeling of protectiveness washed through him as he looked down at her. Long hair fell around her bare shoulders, tanned skin contrasted against her red dress. God, she was beautiful.

A loud laugh had both of their heads turning in the direction of the entrance. Panic filled Lily's eyes as she recognized the man stepping outside. Bishop decided right there and then he hated it. That look in her eyes, the way her chest heaved with quickening breath, her small hands fisting at her sides as she tried to hide their trembling... All of it. The idea of her being afraid didn't sit right with him. It churned his stomach, lit a fire in his veins. If it was up to him, he'd kill that guy then and there so she'd never have to see him again. That would bring too much heat on the club though. For now, he needed to stay calm.

Pivoting on the heel of his boot, Bishop placed himself between Lily and the man walking in their direction. Hoping that the action would both calm her and encourage the guy to keep walking. Recognition flickered in his bloodshot eyes, a sneer twisting his mouth. Guess not.

"Well, well, looks like El Presidente wanted the little whore for himself, huh?" The guy elbowed his buddy, both of them laughing at her expense.

Seriously fuck these guys. Bishop's hand curled into a tight fist, rage coursing through him. They were dea-

"Bish..." One word. A shortened version of his name. An intimate nickname that only his closest friends used. Hushed. Breathy. It was like cold water dousing his anger. A small hand landed on his back, just below his shoulder blade and it seared right through his clothing and into his skin. Fuck. His fingers slowly uncurled, flexing slowly by his side. Stay cool.

The two guys looked at each other, smug smiles on their faces. "Biiiish." The one of left whined, making it sound dirty and crude.

"Keep practicing, honey, you don't quite have that down yet." The other guy spoke, chuckling again.

"Come mierda, pendejos." Bishop spit, wanting nothing more than to knock them both on their asses.

"You stupid Mexican gangbangers think you rule these streets. Wake up, jefe. Not everyone around here bows down to you. Go back to Mexico and tend someone's garden."

Bishop turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at Lily, clocking her quivering lip. It took all of his strength to face the men calmly.

"Keep walking." Keep walking or so help you, God.

"Make us, El Presidente."

Bishop sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to ram this guy's teeth down his throat.

"He's not so tough without his dogs nipping at his heels, huh?" The other guy nudged his friend.

"I swear to God, if you don't keep walking." Bishop's voice dropped an octave as he took a threatening step forward. Lily remained quiet behind him, her hand falling away. He felt the loss in his bones. Like someone pulled an ice pack off a burn, all the heat came rushing to the surface.

"Have fun with the little puta, let us know if you need help making her cooperate!" It was meant to be a quick jab, just one more insult thrown over their shoulder as they walked away, but before they could so much as turn away, Bishop was on them.

Grabbing the blond guy by the collar of his shirt, Bishop reeled back his hand, throwing his whole shoulder into it the punch. A sickening crack filled the air as the guy sprawled on to his back. Two hands cupped his nose, blood oozing from between them. His buddy looked on in shock, deliberating between helping this friend up or running off without him.

"You broke my nose!"

Bishop leaned over, gathering the guys short in his fist again, "Get your ass up and leave before I hit you again."

His buddy grabbed his arm, hauling him up and around the corner. They disappeared without another word. Bishop watched them go, flexing his hand twice as he tested his knuckles. Honestly he would even be upset if he broke his hand, not if it meant defending Lily, or his culture. He was a little afraid that Lily would hate him now though. In his experience, women didn't appreciate witnessing violence. Bishop turned slowly, hesitantly, afraid of what he'd find when he did.

"I'm sorry, querida." He spoke softly, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible in her eyes. Lily looked at him with wide eyes, hands still trembling, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I-"

"Don't be." Lily murmured, lunging forward and throwing her arms around Bishop's neck in a hug that neither one of them saw coming. Bishop stumbled back a step, lifting his hands to her waist as he steadied them both. She spoke softly, lips brushing his skin, "thank you, Obispo."

The moment stole the very breath from his lungs and Bishop found himself wondering when she pulled away, would he ever be happier than he was with her in his arms? He doubted it.

#bishop losa x you #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #obispo losa #mayans mc #mayans fanfic #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans x oc #mayans fandom #romance #writer #writing #Obispo Losa x Lily

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trillian-anders · 4 years

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pride month drabbles

so major bummer not having pride this year! i know i love philly pride and if you’ve never been to the gayborhood in philly during pride month, make it a goal to go because the energy in the city of brotherly love is unreal and i absolutely love it.

i’m gonna do a drabble challenge, just something a little quick bite to celebrate pride at home!

have you never written a story before? enter this challenge.

have you not felt confident enough to write a story before? enter this challenge.

have you been writing for a while and wanna share some love? enter this challenge.

for the entire month of june i’ll be accepting all drabbles and one-shots having to do with pride month whether your characters are going to pride itself or celebrating from home.

i’m just asking for a few things,

1. it has to be pride related, whether your characters are going to pride itself, are celebrating pride month in a certain way, or it’s just LGBTQ+ related, give it to me.

2. try to use appropriate tags when it comes to your writing, i don’t want anything taboo related (inc*st, p*dophilia, etc), we’re having fun here and respecting good moral boundaries.

3. i would prefer a drabble, something short and sweet, but if you want to write a full blown one-shot, go for it. i am not going to stop you.

4. make it as political or non political as you want, you can write angst, fluff, smut. give me drama or give me love. i don’t care. make the story yours.

5. be respectful to others. we accept everyone on this page and i don’t accept transphobia or prejudice against one LGBTQ+ group to another.

6. tag me in your story and #trilliananderschallenge

i will accept anything pride related, including allies. doesn’t matter to me, i just wanna read your story. whatever it may be.

i’ll be updating this post with entries and comments as you send them in 🌺

entries below the cut

💖🧡💛💚💙💜

You Like Drag? by @cap-n-stuff - what a cute little one-shot about steve wanting to participate in drag 😭 i love to see it. so cute and fluffy and i would love to see steve in drag fr. thanks for sharing this with me! 😊

Bi Pride by @jayunbroken - how fucking sweet omg. bucky being supportive of his girl, smooth and sweet. i loved this and i’m so happy she decided to invite him instead of just leaving him out of it. thank you for writing this! 🌸

I Won’t Leave by @cap-n-stuff - i loved this. there’s such a stigma around being bi in the community that i always love when support is given to those who are told just to choose. i loved this little story and i fully believe nat wouldn’t care either way irl. thank you so much 💜

Pride Club by @jayunbroken - a fluffy little piece about bucky being at pride! very cute and sweet and i’m very thankful that you’ve written this. it brought me a little bit of joy i so sorely needed today. thank youuu 💙

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taetaespeaches · 5 years

Note

Ohh so I have an idea for a drabble!! When jungkook is trying to work out but his s/o keeps distracting him or vice versa 😭

“That’s code for sex, right?”

Jungkook x Reader (or oc)

Word count: 2.1K

a/n: Hi sweets, I hope you enjoy this scenario. It was fun to write, I love the idea of Jungkook’s s/o fucking with him while he’s trying to work out. I don’t know why I made the reader such a little horndog, but probably because it’s JK’s s/o. How would you not want to get it on with him all. the. damn. time. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this! Thanks for reading!

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, you watched your boyfriend carefully as he walked around the bedroom shirtless, a pair of black athletics shorts hanging off his slim hips. Your chin rested in your palm as your eyes followed him closely, drinking in every ripple of his muscles, how they hardened with every movement. He was in the midst of packing a gym bag, placing socks and his athletic sneakers in it, along with a towel and various other items. When he reached for the shirt that was sitting nicely folded on top of the dresser, you audibly whined, pouting your lips in disappointment.

At the sound of your disapproval, Jungkook’s lips curved upwards, amused by his effect on you. “I told you that you can come with,” he spoke, not even bothering to glance your way, though his smile grew wider.

“Or,” you started, “you could stay here, and we could do a different kind of work out. Together,” you added with a smirk, and only then did Jungkook’s eyes flick up from his gym bag to you, flashing you a mischievous look, his eyes sparkling, momentarily stealing your breath.

“Baby, if you come to the gym with me, I promise I’ll give you whatever you want later,” he cocked his head to the side in a quick twitch, eyes taking a moment to look up and down your form. When his eyes met yours once again, he gave you a challenging look, raising his eyebrows. Next thing you knew, he was pulling the t-shirt over his head, eliciting a groan from you, making Jungkook giggle with his head still stuck inside the clothing.

“You’re no fun,” you complained as you crawled off the bed to get dressed for the gym. Jungkook popped his head out of the shirt just in time to see you pulling his t-shirt, the one you slept in, off your body, leaving you with just a pair of sleeping shorts on. Your body was turned away from him, allowing him to eye up your backside. He briefly cursed himself for his determination to make it to the gym that day, as well as his desire to tease you, as you got dressed in your gym clothes.

Approaching you, Jungkook’s hands found your waist as he leaned into you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Does this mean you’re coming with me?” He whispered against your skin.

“Only to hold you to your promise,” you replied sassily, feeling Jungkook’s mouth spread into an amused grin against your neck, his soft chuckles tickling your skin.

Jungkook held your hand as he led you inside the private gym, immediately leading you to the cardio area. “Want to start in here?” He asked you, to which you gave a shrug making him smile cutely at you.

“Babe, I don’t know how else to tell you this. I’m here with you now, so I can be with you later. At home. In our bed.” You clarified to him, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, which had you melting on spot.

“Ok, I understand, but do you want to start with cardio or—”

“I want to have sex with you. That’s it,” you spelled it out for him, Jungkook falling into a fit of giggles. Pulling you towards him, he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Ok, ok,” he giggled into your hair. “I won’t ask for your opinion again, I get it,” he kissed you again before leading you to the treadmills. Stepping on a treadmill he gestured to the one next to him with his head.

“Wait, how long are you making me run?” You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Only about twenty minutes,” he told you nonchalantly. Scrunching your face in disapproval, Jungkook pointed a finger at you. “Nuh uh, I gave you a chance to give input and all you could talk about is how badly you want me, so now you don’t get to comment,” he told you sternly though a smirk was playing on his lips. Holding your hands up in surrender, you turned to start the machine.

“Fine,” you pouted. “But you do know I’m not a runner, right?” Jungkook smirked as he started his treadmill, beginning to run, you reluctantly following suit.

Now, you swore you weren’t that out of shape, and you didn’t despise working out that much, but fuck, your heart and lungs were screaming at you as you could not stay focused on your breathing, already dying only three minutes into the run. It quite possibly had nothing to do with your body’s physical state and everything to do with the man running next to you. Every time you peeked over at his perfectly slim body running easily, gracefully, on the treadmill, your heart pounded out of your chest.

Since the work out wasn’t going well for you, and you didn’t really want to be there anyway, you decided to quit while you were ahead, slowing the treadmill down until you were leisurely walking, eyes on your boyfriend. Noticing your slowed down pace, Jungkook whipped his head to the side to look at you, his eyebrows raising in question, eyes showing slight concern as he continued running. When you shot him a playful wink, his concern was replaced by a childlike smile, a little giggle slipping out of his lips.

Shaking his head, he focused back on his running, leaving you to stare at him with a pout. After a few minutes of you casually walking on the treadmill, stealing glances, well, practically staring at Jungkook as he ran, you decided to go get a drink. Powering the treadmill down, you stepped off.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asked, his breath labored.

“I need a drink,” you looked at him with a mischievous grin. “I’m parched from all this running.”

“What running?” He snorted at you, wearing an adorable smile.

“Hey, I’ve been watching you run your cute little ass off. Now I’m thirsty,” you smirked. “I’ll be back, don’t miss me too much.” As you sauntered away to Jungkook’s gym bag to grab a water bottle, Jungkook eyed you up and down, once again cursing himself for stubbornly holding on to his desire to tease you.

Pushing you out of his mind as much as he could, he continued with his work out. That is until a few minutes later, as he neared the twenty-minute mark, when a hand suddenly smacked his ass making him jump so his feet were on both sides of the treadmill. As he whipped around in surprise, he was met with your gorgeous giddy smile as you giggled at his reaction. Jungkook’s shocked expression softened into an amused smile as a breathy chuckle left his lips.

“Fuck, y/n,” he shook his head with a wide grin. “That’s how you kill a man.”

“How, by smacking his ass when he’s running on a treadmill?” You feigned naivety.

“No,” he flashed a teasing smirk. “By smacking his ass when he’s running on a treadmill and then smiling like that,” he gestured to your face, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you fondly.

Stunned for a moment, you bit your lip. “You need to hurry up with this workout.” Jungkook’s eyebrows raised as if to say, is that so? “I’m feeling thirsty again.” As your eyes scanned up and down his body, he smirked, stepping off the treadmill.

“Ok baby, let’s just do some abs and pushups really quick. Then we can leave.” Jungkook’s hand found your lower back as he led you to mats that lined the walls, his touch sending sparks throughout your body. Leaning in to whisper in your ear, you could feel his breath tickling your skin. “I’m getting pretty fucking thirsty too.” You swore your knees buckled in that moment. This fucking brat.

Just as soon as flirty Jungkook appeared, he was gone again, ready to proceed with his work out. And that just wasn’t acceptable.

As he started doing sit ups, you sat across from him, pulling a silly face every time he sat back up. He kept doing the work out, however he wore a big smile and a little giggle slipped out of his lips every once in a while. “Are you going to do any of these with me?” He asked as he did another sit up.

“No, I’m busy,” you told him nonchalantly, eliciting a mixture of a laugh and a scoff from Jungkook.

“Busy doing what?”

“Counting,” you grinned as he did another sit up. “One,” he did another sit up, “two,” another, “three”.

“Wait, I’ve already done so many of these,” he complained with a small laugh, lying flat on his back in protest of your sit up count.

Sitting up on your knees, you placed your hands on his knees and leaned towards him. “Just keep going,” you demanded. Jungkook fought his smile, trying to keep a stern expression as he went back to doing sit ups. “Four,” you giggled when he groaned in disapproval.

You kept counting, thoroughly amused by your own antics. However, Jungkook’s self-control was dissolving the more you teased him, the desire to kiss you too strong to resist. Sitting up again, he grabbed your face, kissing you hard and hastily, barely giving you time to react as you squeezed his knee caps in your palms right as he went back down on his back.

Pouting your lips at the shortness of the kiss, Jungkook smiled stunningly. Sitting back up, he pecked your pout before going back down. This fucking tease. As he did another sit up, you grabbed his t-shirt, holding him in place as you kissed him again, this time deepening it, letting a small moan slip out into his mouth. Jungkook’s resolve cratered as he placed one hand at the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips worked against yours. After a few moments, Jungkook gathered the strength to pull away, leaving you both wanting more, his hungry eyes drinking in your features. “Can we go now?” You asked, your breath heavy. “Please?”

“Right after I do some pushups, Baby,” Jungkook scrunched his nose in amusement of his own teasing as you groaned loudly.

“Why?” You asked, annoyance evident in your tone. “Why are you doing this to me?” Jungkook simply giggled in response as he turned over, propping himself up with his arms and feet. At the third pushup, you crawled over to his side. And at the fourth one, you slung your leg over the backs of his thighs as your chest pressed flat against his back. Wrapping your arms around his slim waist, and squeezing your legs around his toned thighs, you nuzzled your face into the side of his neck. “Keep going then,” you whispered against his skin, sending chills across his skin.

You could feel Jungkook’s abs contract against your forearms as he laughed at your behavior. “You’re like a koala,” he chuckled.

“I’m needy,” you whined, squeezing your arms tighter around him. Jungkook’s arms shook as he struggled to do a push up, however managing to do complete the motion. “One,” you whispered in his ear, causing your boyfriend to burst into giggles, his arms giving out, your weight smooshing Jungkook into the mat as you both collapsed.

He quickly rolled over so you were on the ground, flipping around so he hovered over you. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that,” he told you as he sported a big ass grin, holding an overwhelming amount of fondness in his sparkling eyes.

“Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass,” you quipped back, biting your bottom lip.

Jungkook’s eyes bounced down to your mouth to briefly catch your lip bite before they met your orbs once again. “That you definitely are,” he spoke softly.

“Guk,” you started, your eyes drinking in the way his own lit up at the sound of your voice. “Take me home.” Jungkook immediately stood up, holding his hand out to you to help you up. Keeping hold of your hand, he quickly led you towards the exit, throwing his bag over his shoulder on the way out.

“I’m never taking you to the gym with me again,” Jungkook laughed as he shook his head.

“Oh, come on, you loved it,” you argued, making Jungkook’s nose scrunch and the edges of his eyes wrinkle as the biggest smile graced his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just go get you hydrated,” he told you as you exited the gym, feigning annoyance though he was as needy as you.

“Hydrated? That’s code for sex, right?” Jungkook threw his head back in laughter as he pulled you into his side, draping his arm across your shoulders.

Kissing the top of your head sweetly, he chuckled into your hair. “Yes, it is. You freaking horn dog.”

#jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabbles #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #bts #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts drabbles #bts fluff #requested

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skiesoftwilight · 5 years

Text

The Garden Gate (Jason Todd)

This was supposed to be a drabble, but it turns out I just can’t put a cap on my writings and its a blessing and a curse, but I love it either way. I had this idea in my mind for a while; it was originally for Dick, but I changed it to Jason the last second. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1227

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“You know,” Jason began as he came to stand beside you at the gates leading into the garden, his tone soft yet there was a hint of annoyance, “Just because I asked you to come didn’t mean that you actually had to.”

A scoff left your peach-stained lips while you folded your arms across your chest, “I wanted to come, Jason, believe me, but now I’m definitely wishing I stayed home.”

Jason turned to look at you, concern clear in his crystal blue eyes, “Why? Did someone say something to you? Was it any of my brothers? Bruce?”

You shook your head, reaching over to grab a hold of his hand to give it a firm squeeze, “Nobody said anything to me, everyone here is surprisingly friendly.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s my dress.”

“You look stunning, as always (Y/N),” Jason smiled at you, bringing your hand up to his lips for him to kiss it; he looked you up and down and gave you a sly grin, “You always know how to dress to impress.”

“No, it’s not about my look,” You took your hand out of Jason’s to grab the skirt of your dress, “I think I’m stuck.”

Jason looked confused as he saw you give your skirt a few tugs but barely seeing the fabric move. He looked at the gate and took note that you were standing by the hinges. He walked around your dress and looked behind at your back to see that your dress was indeed entangled with the complex hinges; it wasn’t just your skirt but the lace bow that was connected to the upper part of your dress.

Jason came to stand in from of you with a confused look while the corners of his lips began to curl, “How the hell did this happen?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know, Jason?” You shushed him as his chuckles were drawing in attention from the other guests attending the gala, “I was just standing here and when they closed the gardens for the night, I went to move and I was jerked backwards.”

Jason wiped away a stray tear under his eye as he was picturing you struggling with the dress, “I just can’t believe you got yourself stuck, in a gate out of all the things.”

You folded your arms and looked at him with pleading eyes, “Jason, I’m not stuck, just help; try opening the gate.”

Jason did what he was told, but when you tried to pull your dress away, it resisted. Telling Jason to close the gate and come back to you, you stood there biting the edges of your fingers as you were being to panic. Jason saw your worried expression and reassured you that you would get out one way or another; after reassuring you an idea popped into his mind.

“Why don’t I just pull the dress out?” He suggested which you shot down right away, “I don’t think you can get out without ruining the dress, (Y/N). Just look at it this way, its either you stay here for the rest of the evening until this thing ends which isn’t for another three hours, or I rip the dress and we can both use it as an excuse to leave early. You’re choice.”

You stared at him for a moment before looking at the many guests that mingled on the lawn. Although you did enjoy the grandeur that gala brought, you just didn’t feel like you could connect with such a crowd ever in your life. Turning to look at Jason, you spoke, “Just be quick.”

Jason immediately got to work on trying to free your dress. He bunched up most of your skirt in his hand before tugging on it mercilessly. After a few tugs on the bottom of the skirt, your dress was free, but a small portion of your dress was still hanging from the gate. You clapped your hands together to celebrate the small victory of being halfway free.

“Now just the top,” You told him trying to bend your arms to point at the back of your dress, “Please be careful, Jason, It’s all connected to my top.”

Jason nodded as he came to stand in front of you, deeming that the best view of the mess was looking over your shoulder. You gripped onto his shoulders as a means to stabilize yourself from him jerking your upper body back and forth with the fabric of the dress. The sound of fabric ripping made your eyes go wide as you felt your top getting looser and looser.

“Jason! Wait don’t pull—”

It was too late. Your top came undone and your chest was on display. A sharp gasp fell from your lips as you covered yourself and did your best to pull some of the fabric up to your chest to have more coverage. A mad blush colored your cheeks as you glared at Jason who just stared at you wide-eyed out of shock and excitement.

“Jason!”

He pulled you into his chest, “I’m so sorry, I honestly didn’t think that was going to happen!” He patted down your hair as he looked all around him to see if anyone saw you; while looking around the scene, his eyes saw the good chunk of fabric hanging from the hinge and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jason this isn’t funny!”

“Yeah, Jason, I didn’t think that was funny either.”

You both froze, your muscles stiffening so much that you were scared to even exhale. Jason turned around to see Dick standing there with an amused face as he failed to make eye contact with you, but made sure his narrowed gaze stayed with Jason’s.

“Dick! What the hell?” Jason shouted, pulling you even closer to his chest, “Why are you still standing there?”

“I thought you guys needed help, but it looks like you solved your problems. Plus, Bruce sent me over her to tell you that whatever you two were do you could do somewhere behind closed doors,” Dick gestured to the pieces of fabric in the gate and the position you two were in, “Uh, if you want to get out of here unnoticed, I suggest you leave through that way.” He pointed at the other gate a few feet down before waving his hand and turning to walk in the other direction.

“I’m so going to kill you for this.” You punched his chest as he just shook his head with a stupid smile on his face. “Your brother and Bruce probably saw everything, Jason, everything.”

“If they did, I’m sure they won’t say anything, but if they do, don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it.” Jason looked around once more to make sure he didn’t have any surprises from his family before shrugging off his jacket, “Just take this and let’s go.”

“I don’t think I can ever show my face here again.”

“Sure you can,” Jason reassured you, “You just have to make sure you don’t were such puffy dresses and that you don’t stand too close to any doors or windows.”

You groaned as Jason just hugged you close to his side, giving you a kiss on the top of your head as you walked out the gates of the garden unnoticed by most of the guests.

#Jason Todd #Jason #Red Hood #Batfam #Batfam imagine #Batfam imagines #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd imagines #Jason imagine #Jason imagines #Jason Todd x reader #Jason x reader #Red Hood imagine #Red Hood imagines #Red Hood x reader #DC comics #DC imagines

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lurafita · 5 years

Text

Pokemon babysitting service

Some background for the universe in which this takes place.

There are no pokeballs. Pokemon aren’t captured, but live either wildly or domesticated among humans.

If Pokemon cause chaos/damage, special units are deployed to deal with the situation. Pokemon choose their humans, if they wish to live among them, not the other way around.

Not every person has a Pokemon, and not every person wants one. Just as not every pokemon wishes to tie themselves to a human. Pokemon also get al ittle territorial over their chosen human and only share them with another pokemon, if the other pokemon can create a counter balance to the team, or bring something new to the table. (In essence, if for example a grass type chose their human, it would not accept another grass type to join.)

It is very rare to see a human with more than two pokemon.

Yes, some pokemon choose villains as their companions. Yes, some pokemon are ‘evil’.

Every hero (and most villains) have pokemon partners, because many pokemon feel drawn to a lifestyle that promises opportunity to fight.

Oh, another quick thing: Peter is an Omega here and the birth mother of his and Tony’s children. It is natural for children to refer to their Omega parent as mom/mother/mommy and so on, and their Alpha parent as dad/father/pops, and so on. Apart from that, their second genders will not really play a role.

“Maybe you should stay home, sweetheart. You just recovered from our last mission.”

Tony followed behind his husband, as Peter went from room to room in search of his left webshooter.

“Babe, that was last week. My leg was healed the next day. And my ribs only took a few hours more than that.”

He entered the kitchen next, making a beeline for the refridgerator. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had placed whatever he had in hand in the fridge in exchange for a snack, and then forgotten about it. Tony loved to tease him about that particular habit.

“They probably don’t even need us. I bet by the time we make it to the park, Cap and the others already have everything under control.”

Tony continued to argue. Even though Peter was right, and his injuries from their last mission had healed in no time at all, the older man would have liked for his love to have a bit more down time, before the next crazy villain with their equally crazy pokemon rolled around.

Also, it had not been fun to watch his husband get hit by an energy blast that knocked him unconcious, and then fall off the building to his likely death. Thank god Cap’s Braviary had been close enough to catch Spidey.

Tony, as well as his Magnezone and Peter’s Arcanine, had gotten very spooked that day, and may have hovered and been a little protective for the rest of last week. Greninja and Alakazam, Peter and Tony’s respective other pokemon partners, had been concerened about the near miss as well, but far more composed than the others, who had been at the scene and witnessed it live.

(Every time Spiderman and Iron Man were both called out for a mission, two of their pokemon would accompany them, while the other two stayed with Ben and Morgan, the four year old Stark twins.)

“Steve called for back-up because there are too many enemies for the team to handle on their own. Where is that stupid webshooter? In fact, you and Alakazam should probably go ahead already. Greninja and I will follow as soon as I - AHA! There it is!”

Peter shouted triumphantly, as he fished the black bracelet out of the dishwasher. He clipped it on and activated the nano particles that crept along his body to form the Spiderman suit. Then he speed walked into the living room, his mask purposely not forming over his face yet.

He plucked a happily giggling Ben from his seat on Magnezone (the electric/steel type loved letting the kids ride on top), and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Daddy and Mommy are going to kick some bad guy butt. You be good for Magnezone and Arcanine, okay?”

Ben nodded with all the enthusiasm of a four year old, wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck for a quick squeeze, and was set back onto his dad’s Magnezone. The spider enhanced hero gave Magnezone a loving pat as well, before walking over to where little Morgan was leaning against the big fire type, and swung her up for a kiss and hug.

“You too, princess. No tricking the pokemon to find the secret candy stash again, got it? Remember how sick you and Ben got after that?”

Morgan nodded regretfully.

“My tummy hurt. Sweets are good. But too much is bad.”

Peter booped her nose.

“Exactly. It’s okay to make a mistake-”

Both Morgan and Ben (who was currently in his father’s embrace) finished the sentence.

“-as long as you learn from it.”

Peter beamed at them proudly, as he quickly ruffled his hand through Arcanines fur.

“We have the smartest children ever.”

Tony had finished with Ben and Magnezone and come over to scoop up Morgan.

“Of course we do. The smartest, cutest and best little son and daughter, right?”

Ben and Morgan were quick to shout their agreement. Setting his daughter back down next to the big dog pokemon (who he quickly scratched behind the ears), Tony directed another look at his husband.

“Please be careful, honey. I can’t-”

Peter cut him off with a kiss.

“I promise. You be careful, too. Now come on, if we don’t get over there already, the rest of the team will have all the fun to themselves.”

With these words the iconic Spiderman mask closed over his face and he ran to their exit window, where Grenjinja and Alakazam were already waiting for them. The frog pokemon leapt out of the window with her human partner, after sharing a quick nod with Arcanine. Tony’s suit was rapidly forming over him, as he stepped closer to Alakazam.

“Well, can’t have those two get there before us. Ready?”

The psychic pokemon nodded and levitated off the ground. Tony turned around once more, before the metallic mask closed over his face.

“You four take good care of each other, or ice cream is banned forever.”

Then he and Alakazam were off and the large window pane closed behind them.

As soon as their parents were gone, little Morgan and Ben locked eyes.

“Race around the suite?”

“You are on!”

Ben was still seated on Magnezone and Morgan clambered up on Arcanine. The two pokemon lined up, precious cargo securely on their backs, and got into a starting position.

Ben looked up to the ceiling.

“We needs a countdown, Fridy.”*

The A.I. sounded amused as she started counting down dutifully from 5.

_______________________________________

* Not a typo. Ben and Morgan are four. They sometimes don’t get grammar or names perfectly right.

The End.

I know this is short (and possibly not at all what was expected from the story prompt), but I’m kinda proud of myself for finally writing something that’s actually drabble lengths. :-) I usually get lost in explanations and story side-lines and before I know what happened, that cute little oneshot I planned has been bitten by the mulit-chapter-zombie and turned into a monster I don’t have enough plot ideas for.

So, just a cute, little, domestic snippet here with Pokemon. :-)

Hope you enjoyed it.

Remember to take breaks when you need them, be fair and kind to yourself and others around you, and have a wonderful day. Also, make sure you drink enough water today.

#starker #pokemon #fanfic #starker fanfic #kinda au #starker husbands #tony and peter are married #fluff #domestic starker #protective tony #omega!peter #alpha!tony #starker kids #marvel/pokemon fusion #prompted by anon ask #op lurafita

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gifsbysimplysonia · 5 years

Text

Show Me - Steve Rogers drabble

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female

Word Count: 1845

Warning(s): bad writing, fluff

Summary: asking for help is sometimes the most difficult task in the world, but the benefits can be surprising and wonderful

Author’s Notes: written for @sovietghoststories’s 3K Writing Challenge. The prompt was “Show Me” and I put THESE GIFS of Elias & Bayley (WWE Wrestlers) on my “fic prompt” list ages ago. For some reason, I’m in a very Steve mood lately and I saw the prompt and the GIFs came to mind and here’s this tiny piece of whatever it is. It was just nice to start and finish something. Special thanks to my editor @jillybean1217 & @earthaboveskybelow for also taking a look at the story for me!

And obvs, CONGRATS TO @sovietghoststories for 3K! She’s amazing, her writing is fire, and I am just a huge fan. Thank you for allowing me to participate in your writing challenge.

“Show me,” he insisted. His tone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her mouth go bone dry. She licked her lips and thought she heard him inhale sharply, but with her heart pounding in her ears, she scolded herself. Of course that’s not what you heard, dummy. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but with his eyes boring into her so intensely, her mind struggled. All she could do was shiver under his gaze and shake her head.

“Steve, I really don’t think … “ she began, but a sharp and high pitched whistle cut through her attempt at dodging his demand. Her hands flew up to her ears as she scrunched her nose up and looked at him angrily. She hated when he did that.

“Don’t THINK,” he told her. “Just…show me.” She huffed, she puffed and she rolled her eyes at him. She knew that Steve Rogers had the capacity to be relentless so if she didn’t do this now, he would absolutely wear her patience down until she screamed. And there were much more fun ways he could do that…

Steve cleared his throat, startled her out of her thoughts and she felt the heat in her face. There was no way he did not notice, which accounted for the smirk on his lips. His smugness just served to further irritate her. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and grinded her teeth.

“FINE!” she shouted, wrapping her hand around the slender neck of the guitar and yanking it back into her lap. Steve sat forward on the chair across the way from her, sitting on its edge and resting his elbows on his knees. She did what she was supposed to do, at least according to that YouTube lesson. It wasn’t easy but she wrapped her hand around the neck of the guitar, watched her fingertips struggle to get to their positions. She took two quick breaths and with her other hand, she strummed … and then she immediately cringed because the sound the guitar made was NOT the sound it was supposed to make. Her forehead hit the edge of the guitar with a soft thud.

“Why? Can’t? I? Get? This?” she whined. Steve’s smile was much softer now as he looked at her. She was headstrong and a perfectionist, so setting her mind to learning the guitar and then not being great at it instantly was driving her to such a pouty mood. Truth be told, he found that incredibly captivating, most likely because there were so few things she could not master right away. Seeing her finally be vulnerable and struggle a little bit was reassuring to him. She had intimidated him from the moment they met because she always presented so calm and cool and put together. This side of her was much less intimidating, and much more attractive. Steve chewed at his bottom lip as he caught his thoughts. He whistled through his teeth again to catch her attention, laughing inwardly at how her features no doubt twisted in disgust. It probably shouldn’t be so fun to antagonize someone, but Steve couldn’t seem to help himself around her now that he found he could do so.

“UGH!” she groaned at him, raising her head.

“Do you want my help?” he asked. Steve was known for helping out, even if nobody asked him to. If he saw a need, he wanted to fill it, that was just his way. For some reason, though, he needed to know she wanted his help. Otherwise, he felt that just jumping in to “fix” this problem she was having would do more harm than good.

He watched her bottom lip disappear in between her teeth as she took several long seconds to ponder his offer. He could literally hear the time ticking away on the only clock in the room. Finally, after so many heart beats that he stopped counting, Steve watched her shoulders rise and fall on the biggest sigh he had ever heard.

“Yes, Steve. I would appreciate your help,” she said quietly. Even though her eyes were closed, Steve had glimpsed a mixture of embarrassment and sadness in her expression. That twisted his gut. Asking for help should not be something anyone felt embarrassed about. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like an amalgamation of his best friends screamed, “THAT’S A LAUGH FROM YOU, ROGERS!” and he realized his thought might be slightly hypocritical. Asking for help never came easy for him either, so … now … he needed to be incredibly careful in his navigation of the situation.

“I know asking for help isn’t easy,” he began, pushing himself to his feet. “And believe it or not, it’s not something I find myself very good at.” She lifted her head up and tilted it back so she was looking up at him, and she feigned a gasp.

“What?!? Captain Steve Rogers … stubborn?!?” The hand from around the guitar neck went to her sternum so she could really play up her non-surprise surprise, as if she would faint from this knowledge that wasn’t exactly new to anyone who was acquainted with Steve Rogers. “Well, I never!” Steve could feel the stretch in his cheeks as he smiled down at her, shaking his head as her shoulders lightly shook.

“Very funny,” he said dryly, situating himself on the couch next to her. When she turned to him, he almost had to double take because she just … looked … different. She wore a wide smile and her eyes were bright; somehow her expression was open and she just … Steve had to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. What had happened?

“You are, Steve. Very funny,” she retorted, her nose scrunching as she stuck her tongue out at him. She suddenly stood up, unfolding her leg from underneath her and perching herself on the edge of the sofa. Steve realized that she was mimicking him, perhaps wanting to show him she was serious. “Ok. Now, please Steve … show me.” He pressed his lips together to try and suppress another huge smile that wanted to spread on his face; he did not want her to think he was laughing at her.

Steve’s hand moved towards the hand now wrapped around the neck of the guitar. His long strong fingers gently curled around the back of her hand and slowly moved her hand just an inch or so higher on the guitar neck. She opened her mouth to argue that this is not what she saw on the YouTube lesson, but he tilted his head and looked at her out of the tops of his eyes. She paused and he asked, “Trust me?”

Her lips snapped shut and suddenly, her face was flooded with fear. Steve had not done anything amiss, but the impact that those two words had on her was immense. She had no idea if she was even capable of trusting anyone anymore, even for something this small. Sweat broke out on her upper lip and her eyelids started fluttering as she could feel her chest tighten up.

“Hey hey hey,” Steve’s soft voice broke through the panic closing in on her, and she felt his tender touch on her shoulder. To her surprise, it grounded her. “I’m sorry, whatever I did…” She shook her head fiercely.

“NO, Steve, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything,” she assured him. She licked at the salty perspiration coating her upper lip and took a deep breath. It isn’t that serious, she told herself. He wants to help you and you like him anyways so if you want it to go anywhere you’re going to have to trust him eventu - she shook her head one last time to try and stop that torturous train of thought.

“Alright, Steve. Ok. Show me,” she repeated, her eyes meeting his. Steve was shocked at how much bigger and more fearful her gaze was now. He suddenly felt as though so much more than a guitar lesson was unfolding. He licked his lips and nodded. Once more, he gently maneuvered her hand so it was resting higher on the guitar neck than where she had originally held it.

“Give that a strum,” he told her. His low tone was so soothing, her eyes drifted shut of their own accord. She took a deep breath and did just as he told her, and to her amazement, the right note rang out around them.

“OH MY GOD!” she exclaimed, shooting to her feet. She turned towards Steve and did it again, and again, it was a pleasant sound. “I can’t believe it! You did it! You fixed it!” she told him, and he laughed.

Steve threw his head back and his arms crossed over his chest and his whole heart was in the sound; Steve’s laugh was pure joy and it was one of the things she adored about him the most. The heat in her face from earlier returned as he stood up and pushed his hands into his pockets, looking down at her with what her mind wanted to believe was affection.

“I didn’t fix anything. And YOU did it, I just … helped,” he told her, raising his eyebrows.

“Point taken, Cap,” she responded. As she gazed up at Steve, the way he was looking at her struck something into her heart. Before she lost the nerve, she brought her guitar down to her side, placed her unoccupied hand on his shoulder and drew herself up to press her lips to his cheek. She felt his heavy arm slide around her waist and secure her in place before she felt his lips on her cheek too. When they separated, each recognized the wistful surprise on each others’ face.

“I’m afraid I’ve been underestimating asking for help,” she whispered through a giggle. "Now I'm just thinking about everything else I've probably been missing out on." Her hand drifted from where it gripped his shoulder to settle over his heart. She was pleased the noticeable quickened thump-thump-thump seemed to match her own.

"So...you've...thought about this?" Steve asked, his smile somehow matching the proud arch of his eyebrow. She hesitated, but finally nodded.

"You've had thoughts...about you...and me, together?" He spoke slowly, as if he was processing the real meaning behind the words. Steve had been so sure she had not even given him a second thought.

"Yes, I have," she whispered. "Quite a few actually. One of my favorites is...." Steve laid his index finger over her lips, effectively stopping her from revealing anymore favorite details.

His hand then enveloped hers that rested over his heart. A shiver ran down her spine when he leaned forward and she felt his warm breath on the shell of her ear. The words were familiar and sent a shiver down her spine. She was surprised at the eagerness that arose in her to comply with his demand.

"Don't tell me...show me."

#sovietghoststories3k #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #captain america #Chris Evans #my ff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fan fic #steve rogers fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfic

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tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

High Hopes continuation

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!reader (Avenger AU) Contents: action, fear, angst, phobia of heights due to past trauma (see A/N), trust, a bit of fluff. Oh and it’s not been proofed (*hides in shame*). A/N: Needed some Sam loving. I love Sam. He’s awesome. So I decided to write a new part for the drabbles that technically might be more or a sporadically occurring series that started with High Hopes and then kinda continued with Blue Skies etc (see masterlist).

Leap of Faith – 1 of 2

His hands are calloused and strong, not at all matching the gentleness of each caress bestowed upon you as the anticipation builds for every minute the sound of the quinjet's engines are working. Sam's the calm before the storm, keeping your wits about you until you're in the fray and instinct is allowed to take over once more. Different instinct than his. Your boyfriend has trained for battle and missions long before life brought you to the Avengers.

"What are you thinking, princess?" Even his voice is soft, ensuring no one else on the team will hear.

"Was just rememb'ring the day we met."

It had been hell on earth. Some so-called "hostile takeover" at the research facility where you worked as a nurse then. It wasn't long before the situation had escalated, requiring more than the privately hired guards to handle it - guards who shortly after calling for assistance were beheaded, their tops placed around the edge on the machine all of this was about. Military testing. Your clearance was nowhere high enough that you knew what the machine did, but whatever it was must've been horrible enough to warrant some psychopaths barging in and killing people.

"Stubborn assholes," Sam reminisces, "but at least they were clear 'bout what they wanted."

"You saying I wasn't?"

The man snorts, trying to hold back a laughter. "Noo, no no no! That was clear too."

The guy is right, of course. By the time the cavalry arrived in the form of four Avengers, you had already taken it upon yourself to triage and treat any injured colleagues after overriding a few codes here and there. The bad guys had been contained (although, with the advice they wanted) and were running out of oxygen in a cooling room. Apparently, that was a fact that made the bastards very intent on breaking out of there by any means necessary, so when the heroes finally arrived, you were about ready to lose your shit out of fear the would-be thieves would succeed. Sam had taken the brunt of that, meaning you had ended up giving him a full lecture peppered with all of your frustrations - frustrations that weren't lessened by his dopey smile.

The two of you sit in silence, each lost in memories that undoubtedly have a slightly different focus.

"Alright, peeps," Tony announce as if he is about to start a party, "Cap's got the word and then it's time to rock 'n roll!"

Sam's blond friend rolls his eyes jovially before getting to his feet, hands clasped around the edge of the shield. "You know the plan. Any last questions? Now's the time..."

Of course, he is met with silence.

...

The hard concrete sends shockwaves up through your feet even if you're running up the stairs. So much for a simple plan. You can hear Steve's efficiency through the mic wedged uncomfortably into your ear, and you know he isn't the only one because the evidence of the fly guys in the air can be witnessed every time the building shakes, sending dust raining down - that's probably mostly the two tin cans rather than your Sam, though.

Clamping your teeth around the flash drive, it's possible for you to shrug the "borrowed" lap coat off your shoulders and send it fluttering down the stairwell towards the pursuing goons. The fabric used to be a pale blue, but now it's tarnished with dust from debris and the blood of their friends - there's no way you'll be going back that way.

"Tell me," you puff into the coms once the drive is safely in your fist again, "this is a clear exit."

A new landing, a new door barred due to the lockdown the barrage outside has initiated...or maybe the breach in the lab set it off?

"Damn, that thing's tough!" Stark's complaint is probably well-founded but doesn't help you.

Stealing a glance over the railing, you barely pull your head back in time to avoid getting shot. I need an out! Now! But every attempt at leaving the spiraling trap turns out futile and there are only a few turns back before you reach the very top. Two landings. One landing. Final platform with a heavier door leading to the roof. Fuck!

��Get that doo–“ you don’t get further before the handle is blown inwards in a pillow of flames and smoke, making this the second near hit in a very short time. “Warning next time, asshole!”

Tony (of course it was him) just laughs, “You’re welcome.”

Oh, it feels like heaven as the fresh air sweeps over you, finding a way through the fabric of your gear to cool the sweat that’s been collecting. The sky above isn’t exactly clear due to a few stray puffs of smoke, but at least the guys have drawn the blasts from the ground-to-air missile launcher further away and now you just need one of them to help you down.

It’s just that…none of them can break away.

Clint and Natasha are still inside together with Steve. Wanda and Vision are taking care of the hangar further, and neither Thor, Bruce, nor Bucky had come along on this mission because it was supposed to be so simply. Boy, were we wrong! And now you’re stuck on top of a ten floor building with no way down and at least a dozen bloodthirsty villains on your tail. And you’ve run out of curses that properly express your emotions.

Peering over the ledge, you feel the cold swoop in the belly that brings out the memories you want to forget. At least your feet are firmly planted on something solid and immobile, but the dread is there already and it’s worse than the impending meeting with the guys whose research you’ve just stolen.

There’s just one thing to do. Turning, you prepare to face battle with a ferocity your role on the team doesn’t normally warrant, squaring off on the middle of the roof.

“Medics don’t fight,” Sam quips over the coms seconds before something slams into your back and then wraps a harness around your body, “now use your ride.”

It’s familiar, the acrid smell of the warm thrusters that are strapped to your back now. “Over my dead body!” Sam had talked you into trying out a wing set once.

“It will be if you don’t do it, honey.” Soft, insistent. You know he cares. “You can do it, babe, it’s just to get off that building.”

Out of the corner of the eye, you see the door begin to open once more as you turn and set off in a sprint. I love you, Sam Wilson, but if I die, I’ll come back to haunt your sexy ass. The tiny grains in the tar scratch under your boots, mixing with the shouts behind you – then there’s nothing but the thumping of your heart, much too loud and quick in the ears. Nothing else. Well…there’s the gaping emptiness beneath you as the safety of the building’s tangibility is gone and your stomach protests at the sickening fear.

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8osbabe · 5 years

Note

okay so this will sound dumb, but like the reader is dating two-bit and she is super badass, like she fought 5 socs at once and beat them all but she has an identical twin sister who acts the same, and the gang calls them the terror twins.

a/n : okay here’s the thing. i need to stop.

these genuinely take me long because i

go into my google doc, thinking, “oh

this will be a short drabble, then i’ll

move onto the next one!” and then i

lose all self control and write a

2000+ word fic. also your idea isn’t dumb,

I was actually really inspired and writing

this just kind of flowed out of me.

____________

it’s one of those unbearably hot days in tulsa, and the windows of your bedroom are cracked open to let in a draft, though it doesn’t help much.

standing in front of your closet, trying to decide what to wear, you already know it’s going to be a god-awful day.

why? well, to begin with, summer days like these call for more breathable, or skimpier, clothing.

thing is, the hot weather seems to aggravate every dirty, skeevy greaser in this neighborhood. fights happened more often, and their advances were far more aggressive

so it didn’t help that you were stuck with wearing less clothing for the next month or so.

finally, you pull out one of your looser, linen blouses, opting for an old skirt that was a little small on you, but at least didn’t heat up much.

you’re halfway slipping it on as your sister pushes the door of your shared room open, falling onto her bed with an exhausted sigh.

“you know, i really didn’t think i could get any hotter.”

you roll your eyes, turning to face her and smoothing down your hair.

“—hey, i have that blouse, too! we should match,” she says sitting up.

“we aren’t five anymore. we don’t have to dress the same just ‘cause we’re twins.”

“well, whatever we’re wearing, dad’s making us run down to the market. ‘says he’s out of smokes, we’re out of bleach, and we need more eggs.”

your expression turns sour as you survey your looks in the mirror. “what, he’s too drunk to do it himself?”

he did that a lot lately. the simple fact that you had to buy bleach on a consistent basis to clean up the aftermath of his drunk spells, was nauseating.

you can see your sister from her reflection in the mirror, biting her lip and staring at the ground, her somber expression almost making you feel bad. yeah, she was the nice one.

“alright, let’s go, grease,” you smile at her and reach out a hand to help her off the bed as a sort of apology for snapping.

taking it, she jumps off the bed and you head outside.

the walk to get groceries wasn’t particularly long, but your house was tucked in the very deep end of the neighborhood, forcing you to walk past every other house on your way.

the actual market was conveniently close to your house, mostly because this was the one with the clerk who didn’t really care about selling smokes to minors, and would even sell you a six pack or two if he was in a good mood.

you manage to make it through unscathed, though, and you suppose it’s because it’s early, and most greasers are hungover or sleeping.

you walk out of the store with your purchases tucked into a paper bag that you’re holding across your chest with your arms.

your sister’s going on about some soc she scammed, overcharging them for grass, which was a good business to be in, considering the drug was blowing up with socs who could afford it by the minute.

your sister didn’t smoke at all, in fact, she’s pretty sickly, so she avoids almost everything that could get her sick. when you’re a greaser, you can’t afford much antibiotics, which means that sitting out the flu, sucks.

but, money doesn’t grow on trees, at least not these trees, so you did what you had to, to keep moving. it was a risk, but your sister was willing to take it. you wouldn’t stop her.

you’re laughing with her when she reminds you of the time she got beaten to a pulp by a soc when she first started selling, though it hadn’t been funny at the time.

at first, the idea of being a real pusher, made her feel guilty. instead, she raided the old spice cabinet in your kitchen, where bottles full of seasoning were gathering dust.

so she put them to use, stuffing the tiny bags and making a quick buck off of dumb socs.

then, word got around about the scam, and they hand come to find her outside the drive-in, slapping her around and demanding the real thing.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that you only become aware of your surroundings when you near two boys, greasers, leaning on the fence outside of an old-looking house.

your expression turns stone cold, but it doesn’t stop them from calling out to you as you close in on them.

“will you look at that, two-bit. one for me and one for you,” one of them snickers. he’s smoking, wearing a leather jacket, nearly the same color as his dark hair.

he looks like the hood type. the other, a blonde in a mickey mouse muscle shirt, not so much.

the hood had called him two-bit.

you’re just starting to walk past them, both of you ignoring them.

“— aw girls, don’t be mean.”

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to keep your cool.

then, the hood sticks a foot out abruptly in front of you, and he’s too quick for you to react. he sends you, and the bag of groceries, flying to the ground.

your sister stops short, and jerks the hood forward by his jacket.

“piss off, dallas.” oh, she knows him. cool.

“stop,” you call out to her, slowly moving to your feet. “lets just take the stuff home before dad freaks. we’ll see to this later.

your twin gives dallas one last menacing glare, before releasing him and grabbing the paper bag from the floor.

you grab the small bottle of bleach from where it rolled out of the bag.

“what’s that for, ‘you use it to keep the boys away?” two-bit laughs. eye roll.

“actually, it’s just my favorite summer beverage.” you offer him an excruciatingly fake smile, and take off after your sister.

you’re already far and don’t hear them when they speak again.

“those girls were weird, man.” dallas smirks and takes a drag from his cigarette.

two-bit smiles. “i don’t know. i liked the mouthy one.”

you’re crossing the street when a silver camaro nearly runs you down, screeching to a stop beside your sister.

“you. you’re the chick who sold my little brother some spice,” he snarls from out the window of his car.

“i am?” she answers smugly.

“you know, he didn’t stop coughing for an hour. ‘drank two gallons of water that day.”

“really?” she’s trying to contain her laughter, but isn’t doing a very good job of it.

this doesn’t appease the socs, who turns off his car just as fast as he, and four of his friends, jump out of the car.

now, as far as the odds go, they were pretty screwed up.

you look at the bottle of bleach you’re armed with, though, and decide this will be fun.

best case scenario, they leave ashamed and with mild chemical burns. the worst, well, at least you stain their madras permanently.

the driver, who had some score to settle with you sister, pounced her first, but sweeps his legs, sending him to the ground.

it was a good strategy. they were easier to fight when you could pin them.

one takes after your sister, trying to help out his buddy, but the other three rush you.

you unscrew that cap of the bleach and launch some of the liquid onto the exposed skin of the assailant’s chest.

he hisses, and falls back, and two of his friends take off. it was the wise thing to do.

with the remaining one down for the count while he nurses his chest, you look toward you sister, who’s digging her thumbs into the driver’s eyes.

not enough to blind him, because that was surely a lawsuit, but enough to keep him down.

another tries to pry her off of him, his back turned to you. it gives you the perfect opportunity to kick him where you know it hurts best, and punch his nose when he turns to face you.

“let’s go,” you call to your sister. you feel winded.

you walk quickly in the opposite of your original direction, opting to walk a different way home, and leaving the remaining socs to climb back into their car.

the new route takes you back to the house with the greasers, only this time they’ve moved from their spot on the fence to look towards you as you walked closer, confusion and smugness radiating off of them.

“we, uh, thought we’d help, but-,” two-bit starts.

“but we didn’t need it.” it was your turn to be smug. you loved the look of bewilderment when people saw how resourceful you could be in a fight. girls who could hold their own were hot.

“your girls want to come in for a beer?”

you hate to give in, but dallas’ offer of free beer on a hot day after you just spent all your energy fighting, was too tempting not to take.

you close in on two-bit, cupping his cheek.

“my hero,” you say sarcastically, with the faux smile to match.

then you slap him.

“don’t touch my ass.” he laughs, and you suppress a smile as you walk past them toward the house.

—

you’re sprawled out on the curtis couch, lying across two-bit as he sits up, attentively watching the mickey cartoon that was playing on tv.

you were spaced out, thinking about how you met him, how you got here, apart of this gang of sorts.

it was easy to lose interest in the mickey mouse cartoon, because you didn’t really care for it, though you would never tell keith because you knew it’d be a deal breaker.

you do like to tease him, though, by pretending not to understand it and ask a lot of questions.

“—but they’re both dogs? but only that one talks?”

“you’re looking at it wrong, babe—,”

you tune out his long speech about the history of canine domestication in the mickey mouse universe.

you watch your sister mediate an arm wrestle between soda and steve across the room, when ponyboy, the youngest curtis, walks into the house smirking.

“pony, where you been?” soda asks, still managing not to lose focus on the arm wrestling match.

“i ran into a couple of socs outside the movies, i almost had to fight ‘em, until one of them recognized me as a member of the gang with the terror twins,” he smiled. “i didn’t know it was that easy.”

you smile at him. “it’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“i’m or sure if they left me alone ‘cause they were scared,” he looks at you. “— or maybe they just didn’t want to lose their dealer,” he says, now glaring at your sister, who laughs vibrantly.

“you? terrifying?” two-bit laughs.

“what’d you mean? i am scary.”

you stare at him, daring him to prove you otherwise. he takes you up in that offer, and pins you against the couch, catching you off guard.

“who’s scared now?” he almost whispers into your ear, and you know what’s coming.

“two, stop!” you squeal, but you really don’t want him to. he’s kissing wildly at your neck, his hands roaming your sides and hitting all your sensitive spots, the tickling feels causing you to laugh loudly.

“get a room, you two,” steve growls from where he’s almost winning the arm wrestle.

you snicker. “steve, your neck is a little red. i could almost swear that it’s every shade of evie’s lipstick!” you snicker, and you can see his cheeks burn.

“i win!” soda calls, your comment having caused steve to lose focus and throw the win to soda.

you settle back into a comfortable position on the couch, watching as soda and steve break into an argument about why that wasn’t fair, thinking about yourself, your sister, and your relentless reign of terror.

#the bleach drinking part was inspired by an actual exchange i had with the grocery store clerk today !#the outsiders #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit mathews #dallas winston #steve randle x evie #steve randle #request

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sevenrelics · 6 years

Text

saving face - 2.4k

@bublp0pr said: (i don't really do the whole writing request thing often so i hope this isn't too specific or long or i'm not doing this properly. If so i'm so sorry!) Could you maybe write something where a slightly older Angus starts dating someone but hasn't told anyone about it and Taako, Merle and Magnus come together to try to figure out why he's been so distracted and strange lately?

No worries, you got it down perfectly! I had a ton of fun writing this, tysm for the idea!

Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈✨Send in a ship (or anything else!) & a prompt and I’ll write a drabble! "It's teenage rebellion," Magnus states, his lumbering form jolting Taako's shoulders as he shifts on the bleachers. Someone's just made a goal. Taako couldn't say by who, but there's definitely been some sort of sports victory on the field. Judging from Merle's grumbling, (though he claims to not care in the least for Angus, nor his high school soccer victories) it's not for their side.

"Teenage reb—,” Taako repeats, disdain lacing his voice. "Mags, it's Angus, his idea of rebelling is doing the dishes when Lup forgets," he says, which is not entirely true. Lup most definitely doesn't forget, but weasels her way out of her share of kitchen cleanup with the excuse of "reaping business", or just disappears until someone else sucks it up and cleans the mess themselves. It's not reaping business. Ever. From what Kravitz groans about over a glass of wine on their couch, Lup doesn't even do her job when she's on the clock.

Regardless, Angus has been acting strange, and Taako is determined to find out why.

"It is!" Magnus protests, and the woman behind them wrinkles her nose at either the volume of his words or the way he continues elbowing Taako as he noisily claps at the kicking of a ball. Home-run, or whatever.

"No, it isn't," Taako repeats, and scoots closer to Merle. "He's just been weird lately. He usually can't shut his damn mouth about school, but now he doesn't tell Krav and I anything beyond his grades. Which we know! He stresses over an A minus!" he snaps, and tosses his hands in the air. He doesn't mention he and Lup doing the same thing before being accepted into the IPRE. They weren't members of Fantasy NASA for nothing. "He’s— He's not getting bullied, he knows too many defensive spells for that," Taako continues, dropping his hands back in his lap. "No drugs, his asthma would fuck that up for him. And he's out late constantly!" Taako snarls, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd's cheering.

"Sounds like teenage rebellion to me," Magnus says, shrugs, and grabs another handful from the crinkled bag of chips between them.

Taako huffs. Magnus's solutions so far have boiled down to 'wait it out', or, occasionally, 'get him a dog', neither of which Taako is keen on. Sure, elves have plenty of time, but Taako has never been particularly stellar at managing it, nor mastered the art of patience. He prefers not to think about how much time Angus has.

And on the dog point, they have Magnus, who is just as friendly and eats twice as much, so Taako neglects to see how bringing another animal to their street would help his situation at all.

Another cheer interrupts the biting retort formulating on his tongue, and Taako reluctantly rises to his feet to clap alongside his two friends.

Angus is important to him. More so than he'd like to admit, actually. He's wormed his way into his l in a way that only his boyfriend and those who have spent a century in his company have. It's impressive. Taako's heart is a no-go zone, a big ol' void of non-trust, and yet, here they are. Taako is sitting on an awful metal bench, surrounded by sweaty people and the stench of bad chili-dogs to watch his kid play a sport he has zero knowledge of.

So, for once in his life, he rolls his eyes, sucks a breath through his slightly crooked teeth, and lowers his pride to ask a favor.

"Merle," Taako wheedles, drawing out his old friend's name. Said dwarf continues to stare straight ahead, dull gray eyes locked on the field. Damned dwarven stubbornness.

"Merle," Taako presses insistently, expertly styled (if he does say so himself) eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Nope." Merle shifts beside him to reach across Taako's lap to snatch from the greasy, crumpled bag of chips that Magnus has decimated. Taako briefly wonders if they've coordinated this with the specific intent of annoying the shit out of him. He glances at Merle out the corner of his eye, attempting to look at least somewhat affable as he tucks a lock of bottle blond hair back into his cap. Not the most 'Fantasy Vogue' choice, but Ren tells him it's what people wear to these types of events.

After a few moments of Merle pointedly not meeting his eyes, Taako frowns and scoots closer to Magnus, which ick, but serves to show his point well enough. Well, fuck. He's never trying that again. Nope, nuh-uh, no chance, zero, zip, zilch. Putting his pride on the line is bad enough, but not getting any results? A million times worse.

On the other hand.

If he doesn't figure this out, he'll go who knows how long without Angus's constant chatter, which, rather reluctantly, he has to admit he misses a little. He'll have to keep leaving dinner in the fridge, continue having only half-conversations with his kid, and Kravitz will have to put up with even more late night grumblings and admissions of concern from him.

He stifles a groan and huffs. "Can't you just check—“

"No."

It's silent other than for Magnus rustling his snacks, and the noise of plastic on foil grates on Taako's ears.

There's a sigh from his left, and Taako's ears perk. "S' not sick, if that's what you're asking," Merle says, his gravel voice music to Taako's ears.

"You're sure? Because you gotta admit, he's acting fucking weird—“

"Didn't say I knew what was up with the brat, just that he's not sick. Sick kid couldn't have made that goal," Merle grumbles and points towards the field, and sure enough, shouts and screams erupt as students swarm Angus. Despite not knowing what in hell is going on, Taako's chest swells with pride for his apprentice.

"Nice hole-in-one," Taako says when the game ends, slinging his arm around Angus's shoulders. The kid's about his height, now, which aggravates him beyond belief. Fortunately, he still has his hat. You always count the hat.

"That is actually one hundred percent wrong," Angus replies, though he's smiling brightly between ragged breaths.

"Psh. Par, then?" Taako goads, and Angus's shoulders shake with laughter beneath his arm. It's... warm. Familiar. Much closer to the Angus he remembers a few weeks ago. They walk to the carriage, still linked though Taako's blouse is bound to smell like grass and sweaty human by the time they arrive home.

They're only a few feet away when Angus stops in his tracks, halting both of them in the process. "Oh," he says, and guilt flashes across his features. "Sorry, Taako, I have something I need to do. After school. Now."

Fuck. There's all their progress today down the drain. Kravitz, Barry, and Lup are all working today, Merle and Davenport are boating, or whatever it is old men do with their time, and Magnus is. Well. Taako would prefer to not be around him after the number of mediocre cheese fries he's devoured. One hundred years of sharing a bathroom with him were more than enough, thank you very much. Without Angus, it's an empty house for him tonight.

It's out of selfish need and mild concern that he raises a single eyebrow, and places a manicured hand on his hip. "Like take a shower?"

"Well, later— yes, I guess, but I really—“ Angus stammers out, the words tripping on his tongue. His hands move to play with the frame of his glasses, a nervous habit Taako can recall all the way back on the Rockport Limited six some years ago.

"Uh, nope. Not today, boychik," he says, and ignores the sharp mix of confusion and disappointment that immediately blankets Angus's expression. Taako briefly toys with the idea of saying 'fuck it' and letting the kid go do whatever it is that he's so set on. It goes as quick as it comes— this is a conversation that, like it or not, they need to have. After a second, Angus nods, and Taako steers him by the shoulder over to an empty bench.

"Sit," he instructs.

Angus's brow furrows, and he opens his mouth as if to protest. Taako cuts him off with another stern look, which fuck, he really hates doing. Being bad cop is always Kravitz's job— nothing gets the point of 'don't go out in poor weather' across like a lecture from the literal Grim Reaper.

Angus sits.

One quick call and subsequent portal later (courtesy of Lup, who is more than happy to have an excuse to skip out on paperwork), they're standing in the kitchen of their home. Angus toes off his soccer cleats before moving with careful footsteps to the kitchen table. Taako's heart aches a little at the forlorn expression and the way he tiptoes around him as if expecting a lecture. Which, fuck, depending on how this conversation goes, might be the result he receives. Though he wants to know, it scares him a little. If this is something big, and Angus doesn't trust them enough to reveal it, or worse, it's too late to act on it, Taako isn't positive he can handle the fallout.

"So," he begins, and draws out the chair opposite Angus. "What's going on with you?"

Angus's eyes snap up to his, and his hands once again flit to his glasses. Not a particularly good sign. Taako resists the urge to pin them down with a spell. "What?"

So that's how they're playing this. "You know what," he says, and raps his glossed nails on the table as an outlet for the nervous energy that boils in his veins. Fuck it, he thinks, and cuts straight to the chase. "Are you injured?"

"Injured?" Angus echoes, sending a cursory glance over his limbs, then shakes his head emphatically. "No."

"Being bullied?"

"No?"

"Sick?"

"What—“ Angus blinks, and lowers his backpack to the floor with a soft thud. Obviously anticipating a longer conversation than their run-of-the-mill passing quips in the past few weeks. Thankfully for him, Taako would prefer to not drag this out any more than necessary. "No," he stresses. "Not sick."

"Merle chooses now to be the only time he's right?" Taako mutters, and Angus purses his lips in a way that reminds Taako distinctly of Kravitz when Lup's jokes have gone on a tad too long.

"Then what's up with you?" Taako asks, and folds his arms across his chest. Angus doesn't respond, and Taako feels his nails digging crescents into his bare arms.

"Got all night, kiddo," he continues, and though Angus's eyes don't waver, he isn't forthcoming with any answers. "Every one after that, too" he tacks on, though Angus knows just as well as he does that Taako isn't committed enough to remain on his case about this unless he's in severe danger.

"It's nothing bad," Angus promises, the words coming out of his mouth in a hurry. He runs a nervous hand through his short curls, then opens his mouth, and pauses. He drops his hands to his lap. Angus McDonald has never been at a loss for words in his life, and Taako doubts now is any exception— frankly, he knows more than the majority of adults, sure as fuck more than Taako does. Which does nothing to assuage his nerves, because it means if Angus won't tell, something deeply, deeply wrong is occurring.

Angus finally breaks his eyes away and turns them to the ceiling as he briefly clasps his hands, and whispers something Taako can't pick up from across the table. Theatrics seem to run in the family, genetic or not. Taako finally understands how fucking infuriating it can be. Will that stop him? Absolutely not.

A deep breath. "I've been seeing someone," Angus says, and Taako's heart catches in his throat.

"Oh," Taako says, and he's certain his eyes are wider than Magnus's upon seeing a puppy. "Oh," he continues, and hears a shrill laugh escape from his throat.

"Well. Is he nice?" Taako asks, because that conversation had occurred already, at two am on an emotional Tuesday morning Taako doesn't remember too fondly. It had involved nearly using Magic Missile on an intruder that opened his bedroom door at ungodly hours of the morning, only to have said intruder start bawling over a fact Taako'd already known (because really, no straight kid could ever contain that much sass, even if it's just from mimicking his far superior teacher).

Angus only stares at him. "You're not mad?" There's a note of disbelief in the words, and Taako smiles despite himself. Still surprising people, even after years of being around them. Angus's eyes are wide behind his dirt-streaked frames, and he reminds Taako of the little boy on the Rockport Limited. Unsure, a little trepidatious, and filled with energy.

"Mad?” Taako grins, and leans forward, hair spilling out of his unforunately colored baseball cap. "Kiddo, I'm fucking thrilled. Nerd boy's finally caught a man." Angus flushes, but smiles back. "He cute?"

"Oh, very."

"Excellent," Taako says, pushing the flat of his hand against the table as he rises. "Well, I won't keep you."

"What?" Angus moves to stands as well, his hands fluttering at his sides.

"You're still showering," Taako continues as if Angus hadn't interrupted at all. "And change, too. Grab something from my closet." Angus's jaw drops, and he shakes his head with such vehemence that Taako is shocked his glasses don't fly off.

"What, pumpkin? I didn't make you miss your date, did I?" If he had, Taako knows he'll feel genuinely awful, though he'd rather not dwell on that unless fully necessary.

"Taako," Angus starts, and the smile on his face curls into something a tad more mischievous. Reminds him of someone, actually. "Did you miss me?"

"Don't push it."

Taako notices in the next few days that Angus is home remarkably more often. Though nothing has changed, not really, the conversation itself seems to have drawn them back together. Dinner isn't left in the fridge much anymore, and when Angus goes out, he's often wearing something Taako recognizes. Even if the patterns are far more conservative than what Taako would've put together.

It takes a few weeks, but one night there's a guest at their table.

Kravitz insists they don't intrude on the pair while they "study and snack". Of course, Taako takes it upon himself to make the occasion something out of Angus's nightmares, mildly embarrassing the kid, and poking fun every time they cross paths, even when Kravitz rolls his eyes and apologizes in his stead.

He does have a persona to keep up, after all.

#Taz Fanfiction #Taz Fic #Taz Balance #Taakitz #Taako #Kravitz #Angus McDonald #Magnus Burnsides #Merle Highchurch #Fluff #Long #god i'm so sorry if the read more doesn't work #bublp0pr

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marvelmom · 6 years

Photo

Anon Ask: Please, please write LITERALLY ANYTHING about this look he’s giving!!!!! 💀💀💀

OK, I know I promised myself that I would not get distracted from writing the next chapter of The Contest but I have to confess that I’m a slut for prompts like this. I can just look at a picture of Sebastian Stan and want to write a 1,000 words…the muse is that strong.

So yesterday I found myself in a really boring meeting and this drabble popped into my head. I will warn you that it hasn’t gone through the my usual weeks of writing, editing and obsessing so I hope it’s ok and thanks for the submit @fristan :)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Sex Talk, Seb’s Tongue

Word Count: 1,016

Masterlist

VIP

Entering the backstage area of the Ferarra Theatre with a tray of drinks, your eyes scan the small gathering of Wizard World personnel that are busy preparing for the Q&A panel. Your gaze is instinctively drawn to a tall figure clad in dark jeans and a washed out denim jacket, nervously adjusting and readjusting a cap over top a freshly shaved head.

“I’m trying to get him to lose the cap but he’s being such a diva,” sasses a woman on your right. “Go work your magic girl.” Smiling, you hand Sebastian’s assistant her coffee and remove the two remaining cups from the tray. Quietly approaching your boyfriend from behind, you wrap your arms carefully around his waist. Sebastian tenses slightly until he spots the familiar diamond ring on your left hand and then relaxes into your touch. “Thanks babe,” he murmurs appreciatively as he grabs the cup from your hand and turns to give you a tender kiss. Taking advantage of the distraction, your hand skims up the back of his neck and tucks into his cap to remove it. Smiling against your mouth, Sebastian half-heartedly attempts to retrieve it as a string of protests fall from his lips. “Baby come on,” he pouts, trying to sway you with his puppy dog eyes. “What if they hate my hair?” “Plueeze,” you chide teasingly as you stretch your arm out of his reach and flash him a mischievous grin. “You could shave off all your hair and they would still drool over how goddamn sexy you look.” “Oh wait….” Snorting loudly, Sebastian shakes his head and raises his hands in surrender before gathering you up into his arms. “You’re lucky I love you or I’d throw you down right here and wrestle you for it,” he warns in a low, gruff voice that triggers a rush of wetness to flood your core. “She’d beat your ass buttercup” a familiar voice calls out from behind, causing a swell of laughter to rise up from the group. As Sebastian turns to greet the panel moderator with an enthusiastic handshake and shoulder bump, you sip your drink quietly while they begin to go over a few last minute details. Watching you out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian chuckles silently in amusement as every so often, you absentmindedly swirl the green straw around in your cup then pull it out to lick up some whipped cream. Once his conversation is done, Sebastian turns his full attention back to you. Cocking his head, he narrows his eyes slightly and purses his lips tight in mock disapproval. “What?” you counter with an equal measure of confusion and arousal as you recognize that look. “Baby girl if you don’t stop making daddy hard,” he teases as he pulls out the straw from your drink and brings it up to your lips.

“I’m going to have to put that pretty little mouth to good use.” Sucking the straw into your mouth, you regard him with a look of wide-eyed innocence, causing a dark growl to rise from his throat. He removes the straw slowly and brings his lips crashing down onto yours. To your dismay, the kiss is cut short by a roar rising up from the crowd as the moderator steps out on stage. “Break a leg sweetie,” you whisper in Sebastian’s ear as you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the lips. “Behave princess.” You watch with pride as your boyfriend takes to the stage to screams and thunderous applause. As the panel progresses, you can’t help but giggle when you notice Sebastian sneaking sidelong glances in your direction and smiling. During one such exchange, he catches you bringing your straw up to your mouth for a taste of whipped cream. His smile falters for a split second as he spots a small dollop of the cream clinging to the side of your mouth. Looking straight at you, he begins to run his tongue slowly over his lips. Subconsciously, you start to lick your lips in response when the sweet taste hits your tongue. Swiping the back of your hand over your mouth to remove any lingering traces, the heat between your legs grows as you watch Sebastian bite down hard on his bottom lip and shift uncomfortably in his seat. “That’s enough foreplay,” jokes Sebastian’s assistant as she yanks the cup out of your hand. “This is a family show.” You roll your eyes and huff indignantly as she takes a sip of your drink. Sebastian raises his eyebrows in amusement then gives you a wink before turning to answer another question from the audience. As the panel comes to a close, Sebastian waves one last time to the crowd before he walks off the stage and into your awaiting arms. “Awesome job babe,” you gush as you place his cap back onto his head before drawing him in for a tight hug. A small moan escapes your lips when you feel Sebastian’s hands roam over your ass; tracing the curves before squeezing hard. “I have about an hour before my next round of photo ops,” he murmurs hotly in your ear. “Want to join me for a private VIP session.” “Didn’t realize I had an all-access pass,” you quip breathlessly as he kisses a trail down your neck. “Mmmhmmm, you’ve got an exclusive pass,” he chuckles against your skin. “The only one in the whole world.” “You’re my VIP…very important pussy.” “Sebastian Stan,” you gasp in mock horror as you swat his arm in jest.

“You dirty boy.” A low groan rumbles from his chest as you grind your heat against the bulge forming in his tight jeans.

“Do I get to rub your head?” you ask playfully, echoing an earlier question from the audience.

Sebastian takes off his cap off with a smirk and runs his hand over his hair. “Whatever turns you on baby girl.”

Flashing him a devilish grin you ghost your lips across his and purr softly.

“That’s not the head I had in mind daddy.”

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #submit #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fic #reader insert #sebastian stan drabble #submission #sebastian stan

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clownsgobeepbeep · 6 years

Text

Treasure

First Pirate AU drabble, yay! This is just something really quick I thought of, might continue it or write a drabble that's completely different ^^

"Let go of me!"

"Sorry Highness, but it's for your own safety ." a girl's voice said to the woman who was currently being held with her arms tied behind her back.

"Dragging me to a ship's jail cells will not aid me in safety! Let go of me, please!"the first voice said before

"I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request." the second one spoke again before giggling. "That means no. Heheh, your lover Roger taught me that!"

The hostaged woman, Bella, stopped her struggling for a moment before turning to look at the one holding her.

"Lover!? That damned pirate is no lover of mine nor do I-"

"Ah, yada yada! Stop yer yapping and walk already! I don't have time to hear you talk about him. I got other things to do."

Bella let out a yelp once she her holder shove her forwards and she luckily was able to catch herself, and she continued walking towards wherever she was being lead as she heard the wooden floor creak under her as well as loud laughter above her. She looked around the noticed that there wasn't very much to work with, the area was crowded with cells holding previous prisoners, alive or well...not so alive.

She glanced to the side and let out a quiet gasp once her eyes landed on what appeared to be a hook stuck to the wall, a rather sharp one that could have helped. Bella turned to look at the woman holding her who only gave her a smug expression as she hummed to herself, and she turned back to the front to look at the hook that they were slowly approaching.

Her eyes remained on it and right when she was a few feet away from it, she lifted her leg backwards and heard a grunt of pain after she had kicked the woman's shin and was soon released. Bella ignored the fact that the woman was down trying to soothe the pain on her leg and ran towards the hook from before and turned so that her hands were now in front of it. She risked her hands and fished around for the hook, cutting her palm which made her wince, but she bit her lip before the hook cut her ropes and she was free.

Bella wasted no time and dashed the way she had been escorted through, shoving the other woman away to the side to run towards the end where there was a stairway. Although rather than running up, she ducked behind it to hide in the darkness as the other woman now looked around for her but did not find her anywhere. Bella saw that she stomped her boot before running up the stairs which made Bella sigh in relief before she circled around the stairs and slowly began walking up, making sure to not make a single sound nor be seen.

The higher she climbed, the louder the laughter above sounded which made her heart beat faster. She gulped and walked up, looking around and thankfully saw nobody which gave her the sign to continue on her way. She realized that she was now on the second level of the pirate ship she was forced onto, and there was a bit more light which helped her sea the swords that were scattered on a pile.

Bella turned again to make sure she was safe before she leaned down and grabbed one of them so that she now had a way of fighting her way out. She pivoted her body and let out a loud yelp once she saw a tall figure standing in front of the stairway she planned on using to go onto the deck.

"Where do you think you're going, princess?"the man said with crossed arms and a smirk, though his smirk disappeared once Bella revealed the sword she had gotten. Though he let out a dark chuckle.

"Move out of the way, and I won't cut you! I am not afraid of you!"

"You should be but here, I think there's another pirate you should be scared of."he replied as his eyes looked behind her, so she quickly turned before she lifted the sword to defend herself from-...oh no.

"My little angel, where are you off to?"

"That is none of your concern!"she yelled at the other man who slowly walked towards her with his arms behind him, and he held a smug expression as he chuckled to himself, then stopping once a few feet away from her.

"Why, it is very much my concern. I got you as my pet, and it's now my responsibility to nurture and care for you. Can't have these dirty pirates doing anything to you, now can we?" he said before taking another step, a very slow one as if trying to scare her.

"I am nothing of yours! Now let me go before I-"

"You, what? Duel me with that petty little sword of yours?"he asked in a mocking tone before he brought his arms out, the right one reaching to his left side before he pulled out his own sword. "Because please be my guest, and entertain me with whatever you have up your sleeve, angel."

Bella furrowed her eyebrows and frowned, but did not take action until she heard the other man behind her walk towards her. She stepped forwards and swung her sword at the man in front of her, though he easily deflected her attack before also disarming her which made her eyes widen as her sword flew off and clanked against the floor.

"Tsk, tsk. And to think you'd be a lot more prepared."the pirate said before putting his sword back into its holder, then giving her slow claps. "Horrible foot work if I do say so myself, and that attack was just so...wrong it's pitiful."

The pirate, who she learned to be named Roger, lowered one hand down before the other that was still up snapped its fingers.

"Grab her and take her to her cell." he said and before Bella could react, the other man from behind grabbed her arms.

"Let go of me you brute!" Bella yelled as she struggled getting out of his grip, though he proved to be a lot stronger than the woman from before.

"Now, now, I don't think that's a very nice thing to say sweetheart."Roger said as he brought his hand up to stroke her cheek with a smile, but he then stopped and looked at the other man. "Abraham, be gentle with her and make sure she's comfortable...or I'll be dealing with you later myself."

"You got it."the taller man said before pulling Bella away, and she groaned after giving up because she knew that there was no way out of it this time considering the size of this giant pirate. She turned and saw Roger who now walked up the stairway but stopped when the woman from before walk down with another prisoner in her hands.

"Where are you taking them Maggie? Stellar gave orders to not bring them down to the cells."he said before the woman shrugged.

"Dunno, I was told to bring 'em down to the cells."

"Well don't, Stellar said he wants to talk to Captain Tennant here."Roger said as he smirked at said person who glared down at him.

"Aye aye Cap-I mean, Roger!"she said before turning and walking up with Roger following behind as Bella was taken back down to the cells with a frustrated expression.

"Must you continue holding me in such a position?"the prisoner said before Roger shrugged to himself as he now walked in front of them and Maggie.

"Is there a problem with being held that way?"

"It's far too uncomfortable and it hurts my wrists, along with the idea that you know there is no need to hold me!"

"Lighten up Harley, it's all part of the act!"Maggie exclaimed, but they then pulled their arms away before rubbing their wrists.

"I know that quite well, but the entire crew knows that I mean no harm nor that Stellar plans on harming me."

"Yeah, they know it so well that Abraham's spread the rumor that either of you's might be eunuchs heheh."

"Roger this was a crew secret!"

"Thought Harley might as well know considering nobody knows what these two do in Stellar's quarters."

"Would it be alright is we ceased the talk on the topic of Stellar and me? Where might you all be going and why would I be needed in your journey?"Harley interrupted with a reddened face before Roger cleared his throat.

"Since we've finished ravaging your precious little bay,it's time that we head back into the sea."he started before turning to look at Harley. "We're visiting big sis."

"Coraline? I thought you only-"

"We only visit when the sun is out, I know. But there's been storms meaning she's not in the best of moods, and we happen to have to many bodies on board."

"We're feeding Calypso!"Maggie said in an excited tone.

"The Kraken!?" Harley exclaimed in full surprise, especially when they remembered the girl that was dragged through the ship earlier. "And you're feeding that poor girl to the kraken as well!?"

"Oh no, not her."Roger said when a chuckle. "Bella is...a sweet little angel I happened to pick up while on the shores...a treasure she is...and I plan on keeping her all to myself."

#belinda the ballerina #maggie the clown #ace the clown #pepper the clown #cuckoo the clown #pirate au #huehue #damn all my titles suck lmao #belpepper

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mercurygray · 7 years

Text

A Fine Toledo Blade

A Lavinia Montrose drabble featuring Mr. Daniel Marney...again. A sequel to Teaching the Tigress, one of the Royal Tigress pieces.

Daniel Marney was not a stranger to being summoned. Crooked fingers and come-hither glances and flashing fans were his stock in trade, and he answered each and every one as he was bid. A dog must not bite the hand that feeds him - even if it is tired of being treated like a dog.

But a footman, in livery and with a note in hand - that was worth puzzling over. How out of place he looked, standing at Daniel's door in his good coat with his gold braid. And at such an hour! Seven in the morning if it was a minute past - hardly the usual time for love affairs, unless it was the breaking up and sending home of same. Yet here he was, answering his door for a footman with a note carrying a seal Daniel could not place, and addressed in a hand he did not know. "Your presence is requested at once at the house of Sir James Montrose." A single line.

What use could Sir James make of him at this hour?

Daniel rubbed his eyes, cursed the last of last night's wine, and went to fetch his coat.

There was a carriage, too, to accompany the footman, jolting and bouncing him over the cobbles to Mayfair and Sir James' fine house with its white Palladian columns and gleaming brass doorknocker. They let him in at the front, as though he were a guest of note, and a maid in a cap took his hat before the butler escorted him upstairs, opening the door to one of the bedrooms and ushering him inside.

There was a curious tableau before him, an intimate scene he almost felt he should not see - Sir James sitting on the edge of the bed, half-dressed, without his wig, and talking in close company with his wife, who looked to be in her sleeping gown and not much else, her hair loose. This was not the stern master of finance that Daniel had seen on previous occasions - Sir James' whole attitude was one of comfort, and concern, Lavinia a small and frightened animal hiding behind its mother.

The butler made some officious noise, and Sir James turned, taking in the sight at the door and cracking the smallest of smiles. "I have brought you a surprise, my sweet," he said softly, speaking into the bowed head as if to coax it out of hiding. "For a job well done. Will you not look and see what it is?"

Lavinia looked up, and Daniel felt his face go white - for where ever she had been the night before had not been kind to her. A huge purpling bruise spread across her throat, in snaking lines that suggested that someone had tried very hard to choke her. Had she been sent to a place where someone wished her dead? Or was the object of her mission last night a man who found pleasure in such games? Had Sir James known this when he set her lose, and sent her anyway, young and unschooled as she was?

And this was the sorry result.

He tried to hide his feeling, but it was of little use - she knew how she looked, and another witness to her shame was hardly the tonic she needed. "My lady," he said, his mouth dry, wishing he could say something - anything! - that might be of use or ease to her.

"I thought you might enjoy some company," Sir James offered. "The doctor has brought a tonic and a salve, and Mrs. Pierce will have breakfast when you want it." She nodded, trying to be brave, and he smiled and gently kissed her cheek, rising from the bed and crossing the room to where Daniel stood so they might speak in confidence.

"You will stay as long as she likes and do whatever she pleases," he ordered. "I will compensate you as you like." And with that he was gone.

Daniel looked once more at Lavinia, trying valiantly to arrange her hair so that it covered at least some of the bruise, sitting up in bed and sniffling and trying to dry her eyes. He sat down as gently as he could, taking the whole scene in with careful eyes while she continued to fuss and put on an appearance of business that would not let her stay still too long and let him take all of it in.

"You will forgive my appearance, Mr. Marney, I had a ....a misadventure last night," She said, trying to put on her queenly air and her smiles.

"Who's done this to you?" he asked fiercely.

"No one worth mentioning," she managed, still trying to put her tears away. "Here, we will call for wine and cards, and -" He stilled her hand as she reached for the bell-pull and finally met her eyes. The mask hung in the air a moment before her resolve crumbled and she broke down into sobs. Daniel pulled her close and let her cry, realizing, as he did so, that his touch provoked still more agonies, these now of pain. Glancing over her shoulder, he peered down her back, lifting the neckline of her shift so he might see her back - as purpled and sore as her neck.

"Lavinia." She looked at him, afraid. "I'm not one of your gentlemen that you need put on a face for. Keep me or send me away if you like, but don't feel like you need to pretend. Now who's done this?"

"He doesn't matter."

"He does if Sir James will make you go back for afters." They've used you for a whipping post.

"No, it's...it's finished. I got what...what was wanted." She drew a breath and tried to steady herself. "It isn't always like this, you know."

No, sometimes it's worse, Daniel thought to himself. "Would you like a bath?" he offered. "I know I do, sometimes, when -" When I feel unclean, he wanted to say. When I come home from being Lady Repton's nephew, or Lord Basset's footman, or Mrs. Chalke's farmerboy. "The water will feel nice, and we can put on some of this salve."

She nodded, and began to rise from bed, a little unsteady on her feet, to sit near the tub while Daniel went out into the hallway and called for the maid to bring water. "Shall we brush your hair, while we wait?" he offered, wondering what other comfort he could possibly offer. She nodded and he went to her dressing table, finding the boarshair brush and taking a lock of her hair in one hand so he could gently untangle it. She shivered, at first, and finally relaxed.

"He held me by the hair," she said, after a while. "When he..." she gestured weakly to her throat.

"I'll stop."

"No, don't, it...it feels nice."

So he brushed her hair slowly while they waited for warm bathwater, and she told him of her evening, of the man she'd been sent to seduce and the information Sir James wanted from him, and the game she'd played to get into his room and his writing case, the naive young wife whose husband was too old to appreciate her. The sex had come after, a cover to let her escape. "Did he know?" Daniel asked, after he'd eased her into the water and taken off her chemise, and the extent of the damage was on full view. "Did he know he would do this?"

"I don't think so," she managed, huddling in the water, her arms crossed over her breasts. He was spreading the salve on her back, easing it onto her skin as best he could. "He told me what I should expect, of his...tastes, but he did not think...my throat unnerved him." She glanced up at him. "I passed out, in bed, and was sent home. I didn't have time to make it look...I think that's why he sent for you."

"I wish I could do more."

"Could you...kiss me?"

"I've no wish to hurt you."

"You won't."

He was gentle, so gentle, as his lips touched her cheeks and the corners of her eyes, tasting the tears on her skin. She was worth so much more than this, a fine Spanish blade sent to do the work a common filleting knife could handle, a silk handkerchief doing the office of a spoiled rag, and he wished to God that Sir James knew it. Work like this spoiled girls, maimed and lamed them and spit them out into the streets as tuppenny drabs, unless they were canny and quick about it and kept their wits around them. She would keep hers, Daniel thought, but she was older now then she had been when she'd first seem him, older and wiser in the way of the world. And they both knew this would not be the last time she was used so.

They remained like that a while, she in the tub and he out of it, Daniel wanting to keep the distance between them so she would not force herself to do what she thought he would want. Kisses he could provide, but to offer anything else when she was like this, afraid and vulnerable - unless she asked in specific - seemed the blackest kind of sin.

"The water's cold," she said, finally, standing up so he could wrap her in a towel and let her dry herself off, before slipping back into her chemise. "Would you...lay with me a while? Just to talk."

"I can," he said softly, tucking her into bed before easing himself around her above her covers, protective and warm but still apart. He wanted to protect her, as she should have been - but there was little hope of that. In a few hours she would send him away, and he would be paid, and that would be that. "There's a woman I know, in Covent Garden. Nancy Birch. She'd give you lessons, if you liked." He licked his lips, trying to think of what to say. "There are games you can play - to keep power in your hands. Sometimes a man who likes to beat likes to be beaten."

"Nancy Birch." She repeated the name like she was tasting it. "Could I...meet her?"

Daniel nodded, thinking of Nance's red coat, her sharp glares and cutting tongue, and the fox-haired girl who had played cards at the Cocoa Tree in her diamonds and emeralds, the bright Toledo steel blade that knew how to thrust and parry but not to kill, and as the two images blurred together his mind was decided. "I'll bring you to her," he promised. I'll take you to Covent Garden, and she'll teach you what I can't, and sharpen you into a fine stiletto - the weapon Sir James wants to slip between his enemies' ribs. "But sleep first."

She agreed mutely, and closed her eyes, burrowing into her pillows. And Daniel slept, too, uneasily, wondering what Nancy Birch would think of Lavinia Montrose.

#i have written a thing #it is a sad thing but it is mine #lavinia montrose #daniel marney #the royal tigress

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festiveferret · 7 years

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The WIPList

I was tagged by the lovely @sabrecmc (thank you!) so here we go!

Do Dis: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

This will force me to set aside my comfy denial and accept all the things I’m working on, oh no.

1) Noises - Working title for a plot bunny I found under a lettuce leaf in the Stony discord. Teaser/thesis statement is: “Tony hates silence after the wormhole. Steve hates loud noises after the war. But, somehow, they like each other.” (thanks for the idea guys!). At the rate I’m going, this will be the next non-Held thing to be finished but by saying that I’ve probably cursed it so never mind don’t read this sentence please.

2) Do Not Reply - shmoopy, tropey, cliche-ridden romcom fic that I kind of adore. I’m thinking it’ll be about 25-30k so I might save it for the Cap-IM BB, but I haven’t decided yet. This is my on-going largish thing that I occasionally leave at home alone dripping tears on a photo from our romantic trip to cancun while I’m out late flirting with drabbles and going home with smut prompts.

3) @ashes0909 and I are always working on our Held Series and we have lots of lovely things lined up for that. We went into planning overdrive so I expect we’ll have a steady stream of updates over the next couple months (assuming life cooperates!). When we are 90 and living in a retirement home together with our Marvel poster covered walls we’ll still be writing Held, I imagine. Oh no I hope I haven’t cursed this one too just stop reading, maybe turn in three circles with some salt and spit, I dunno, but whatever it is, do it quick.

4) A thing I have dubbed 100k SlowBurn, which may or may not actually turn out to be 100k, but will be a longfic. Kind of an action/adventure, romance, divergent AU, travelling together thingamabob. Who knows. I certainly don’t. Am I supposed to know these things? I’m only like 15k in so far, so it’s okay if it doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up yet. It’ll be Stony though, so it’s all good, guys. I’ve already written the end.

5&6) I have two things in the beta-queue. One has been betad and I just need to suck up and edit it and maybe add some dialogue I left out oops. It’s just a short romanticy thing I’ve been calling “Pool Kisses”. Oh, it needs a real title too, hmm. I also have my first Stuckony fic in the queue (no rush darling, but seriously, get on it already slacker), called “Equilateral”.

7) I don’t know if I can officially say I’m “working on” a sequel to If Running’s A Plan, but it’s been sitting there, like a quarter done, for a long time, so if I’m not, maybe I should be!

I also have about 20 bunnies in the hutch waiting for their turn to graduate to WIPs and sobbing softly every time I jump the queue for a new idea. Don’t worry buns, you’ll get your turn (maybe). This includes notes for a sequel to Cracks In This Reflection but that fic almost killed me in a myriad of wonderful ways so I don’t know if I’ll ever have the strength to face that one. Maybe after a lot of therapy and about 30 lbs of chocolate. I have a very cool collab lined up as well that I’m super excited about!

I’ve got the next two weeks off work, how much of this do you think I can get through? :D

I will tag @deejaymil (or at least your “after Tuesday” answer :P), @enoliel, @notebookishtype, @sirsapling, and @foldingcranes IF YOU GUYS WANT TO!

#stony #fanfic #my wips #writing meme #send me a prompt - make a bunny cry

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