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firewhiskykiss · 11 months

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detailed fluffy/smutty headcannons! draco malfoy as your boyfriend.

i’m writing this as a continuation of “ive got my eye on you”, and sooort of requested by @dolcid. i’ll hopefully write a proper part two soon but for now here are some detailed, fluffy bf!draco headcannons to keep you satisfied. ive thrown some smuttys hcs in as well, so you really get the picture (i love reading headcannons so i hope you’re as pleased with this as i am!) <3

WARNINGS! SEXUAL CONTENT. SMUT. 18+

malfoy is a really good boyfriend. you’ve never had one before though so you can’t compare him to much :(

the way he confessed to you was really impressive though (and really turned you on! drunk kisses > )

he gets better and better at kissing every time you do it. he’s not very emotional but he’s passionate, if that makes sense?

when you’re kissing he doesnt administer alot of touch himself but he loves it when you touch him. he lets you run your hands all over his chest, it makes him groan.

when he DOES touch you, its usually your thighs.

despite all the kissing, he’s actually very cautious about going any further with you, because he knows you’ve never been fucked by anyone before. in the first few weeks, he sticks to hot makeout sessions with you.

he used to tease you for being ugly when you disliked eachother, he never meant it, by the damage it did to your confidence meant you never pursued a relationship before him so you’re really a virgin in every aspect. (slay tho <3)

draco doesn’t do dates really. he likes to keep you all to himself, he’s selfish like that. so he usually invites you to the slytherin common room, and takes you up to his dorm.

he banishes the goons from the dorm to spend time with you because he knows they make you uneasy.

he really cherishes quality time over anything, that’s his love language. he doesn’t have to be kissing you the whole time, sitting beside you whilst you read is enough for him. he’s enamoured with your presence.

he’s always been enamoured with your presence, even when he pretended to hate you.

draco is quite a grumpy boyfriend. not mean. just moody. he doesnt like other people. he especially doesnt like harry potter. or anything about any of the gryffindors. you pay it no heed, you just find it cute.

he takes things further one day and you let him eat you out. he doesnt do this alot. hes mostly a receiver.

he’s really dirty when he wants to be, its the fault of his smirk, it makes him look even dirtier.

draco is heavy on the dirty talking and teasing, after all your relationship begun because of his unremitting teasing.

so when he’s licking your pussy, he’s doing it whilst smirking and cooing annoyingly because of how red your face is going.

he gets really hard because its his first time going further than kissing with you. youre the first girl that hes had feelings for as well, so it makes it unreal for him. he gets so hard he has to ask you to suck his dick.

he doesnt beg you though! his voice is cool and nonchalant like it always is.

instead of cumming in your mouth, he comes all over your pussy because he likes how it looks.

when you two finish, he isn’t one for cuddling, but he lets you lay beside him in his arm, and fall asleep on his chest.

when its time for you to go back to your dorm, he folds all of your things up for you, stacks all of your books. hes weirdly a neat-freak.

when you aren’t hanging out on his bed, you’re watching his quidditch games.

one day he has a bad fall and ends up in the hospital wing, with his arm in a sling. typical draco!

he’s a hypochondriac lol!

you drop your studies to sit with him. he grumbles profusely about the pain and the sling. he loves complaining.

you shut him up by kissing him, which makes his expression harden because you two werent public about your relationship yet. but you dont care.

when he’s injured in hospital he lets you groom his hair for him. he cares alot about his appearance. its a frequent occurance. because hes not one for skinship its how you feel close to him.

he warms to the idea of cuddling a bit, but when he does he prefers to be spooned rather than spoon you. and he always does it under the blanket so no one could accidentally see.

he’s a tall, protective boyfriend. he usually wards “threats” away with rude, witty comments, or dirty looks. he doesnt care. you’re his.

when you’re in public, he stands behind you w his hands on your shoulders so he can protect you at all times if he needs to.

he gradually becomes more comfortable being emotional around you. not emotional as in sad or cloying but. he smiles more. not big cheeky smiles, but small ones you notice when you catch him off gaurd.

he kisses you alot before bed, you start sleeping over in his bed in the slytherin dorm, you get away with it because he becomes a prefect.

he kisses the top of your head and your hands/fingertips the most. you’re precious to him, that’s how he conveys it.

after a few weeks of sleeping in his bed, he makes the ultimate move on you and fucks you for the first time. “making-love” is a bit cringe in dracos opinion, he is draco malfoy after all. but it isnt senseless fucking.

he loves the power imbalance of you getting onto your knees for him and sucking his dick. like i said, hes a receiver!

he puts his big, pale hand in your hair and bounces it harshly on his dick. he doesnt make you choke on it though, he doesnt like that.

he actually doesnt fuck you in his bed, the first time. you both get so carried away that he takes you against the wall. from all angles. behind. from the front.

it’s rough, desperate fucking. youve never been fucked before. its such a new and overwhelming feeling. youve been pining for eachother for so long.

he cums all over your pretty pussy again, but not inside it (obvs) and admires it for a while whilst catching his breath.

you start crying after! it was such an intense experience that you get a bit… worried? overwhelmed? it’s not serious crying but you need some softness.

draco isn’t always the best person to rely on for softness but he knows that you need it right now after the way he’d just fucked you.

you cuddle properly for the first time. all naked and sticky (draco HATES that, but he doesnt mind tonight bc its you) and he kisses your head over and over.

hes not big on aftercare usually. but hes patient with you tonight. he lets you sleep off the feeling, and wear his big, boxy school shirt whilst you do so. it smells of him. you love it.

you love him.

he loves you too, hes thinking.

but you don’t tell each other just yet ;)

#draco malfoy #draco x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x you #draco fic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #harry potter

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vro0m · 1 year

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vro0m’s rewatch - 134/310

2014 Spanish GP

Welp the only website where I found race build ups and all of that extra content is now down and the person who was in charge of it didn't back up any of their stuff so… hopefully it'll get solved but right now I only have access to the race and I can barely hear the comment so this one might be chaotic.

I wrote this whole review and then the website got fixed so I went back and watched the build up and post race stuff and look what horrifying things I’ve found :

Quali report. Maldonado crashed in Q1, causing a red flag. Lewis struggled with the car's balance and went wide a few times, while Nico was on top for Q1 and Q2. Magnussen had engine issues and dropped in Q2. Seb had issues all weekend : electrical wiring on Friday and then a dead gearbox in quali which meant a not great starting position AND a 5 place grid penalty for the change. He's 15th. Alonso was out-qualified by Raikkonen. They're both behind Grosjean and Bottas, who is 4th. Daniel is 3rd. He's happy with what he's doing but he hopes they can at some point close the gap to the Mercedes. Even with the setup issues and the slippery track, it's Lewis on pole again.

They talked to him before the parade. He says it'll be a tough race. Of course his main rival will be Nico, who he says is gonna be fast and Daniel will be very quick as well and then Bottas who gets really good starts so we'll see.

Ferrari has made a huge offer to Newey, trying to get him to work for them instead of redbull. It prompts a lot of conversation in the paddock.

Formation lap

Oh I couldn't hear shit but thankfully I've now found a stream with good sound quality so that's one problem solved.

The teams don't know if it's best to go for a 2 or 3 stop strategy. The journalists wonder if Mercedes is gonna split strategies and if so, who's gonna get which one.

And they're racing!

It's a good start for Lewis. Bottas overtook Daniel and these three are now a bit ahead already, even before the first corner. Grosjean locks up massively but makes it through the corner. The Ferraris are racing each other over P6. Seb lost a place, what a struggle… Lock ups, lock ups, lock ups. A lot of them. Magnussen goes wide. He makes contact with Seb as he rejoins the track! And that's the end of the first of 66 laps. Lewis is 1.150 ahead of Nico. Then it's Valtteri, Daniel, Grosjean, Raikkonen, Alonso, Massa, Hulkenberg and Perez. Seb back up in 14th.

Lewis widens the gap to Nico, Nico widens the gap to Valtteri, who's under pressure from Daniel. Maldonado is under investigation for causing a collision that I didn't see happening. Daniel is getting very close to Valtteri but he's told to drop back by his team to save the tyres. I'm not too sure he's obeying… no he's attacking instead! He can't make it though… In the pit straight he has DRS but it's actually quite far from enough. He might have to yield and do as the team told him. He says he'll cool down for a couple of laps. Meanwhile Seb is closing on Gutierrez, who locks up. Here we go! He overtakes him from the outside even though Gutierrez tried to squeeze him off track. That's P13.

It's lap 10. Maldonado gets a 5 seconds stop and go penalty for that unseen collision. Lewis is only 2 seconds ahead of Nico, but they're both already over 10 seconds ahead of the rest, which is Valtteri, Daniel, Grosjean, Raikkonen, Alonso, Massa, Hulkenberg and Perez, just like 10 laps ago.

Lewis sets the fastest lap. He's pulling that gap to Rosberg. Seb is all over Jenson, but he pits. He's the first to do so. It's a good stop, a great one even. Daniel is closing on Valtteri again. Nico says there's no graining on the softs. Ted says it means he'll do the opposite of whatever Lewis' strategy is (did they not start on the same tyres? did I miss that? is that not what this is about?). Daniel pits. Seb has started making his way back up the field after his stop. He's currently 19th though. Valtteri doesn't pit in answer to Daniel, weirdly. Rosberg is now getting closer to Lewis again, the gap was up to 2.5 and it's now back down to 1.6. Alonso pits. Grosjean has pitted. It's surprising that Ferrari pitted Alonso first even though Raikkonen was ahead of him. Lewis is told to push. Daniel overtakes Perez for P4. Alonso is back behind Raikkonen. Lewis pits. It's a mid stop, 3.8. He's out in P2…

And that's lap 20. Nico didn't pit, he's still in the lead and sets the fastest lap. He's currently slightly over 20 seconds ahead of Lewis which is almost enough to stay in the lead after his stop… As Crofty explains, he never tried to get too close to Lewis and thus managed his tyres beautifully. He's currently faster on his old tyres than Lewis is on his new ones. Aha… but now Lewis sets the fastest lap, actually! It's on.

Valterri pits and is out in P4 behind Daniel. I'd like to see the graphics so I can sum up the top 10 again. Here they are. So Nico, now 19.897 seconds ahead of Lewis. This is not going in his favor in the end is it? Then Daniel and Valtteri as we just said, and Grosjean, the two Ferraris, Massa, Seb now up in 9th (!), and Hulkenberg.

The Mercedes mechanics are ready for Nico. Here he comes. He's on the hards and thus indeed going counter to Lewis' strategy. It's a better stop than his too, but it doesn't change a thing. Just as Nico gets out, Lewis is at the end of the pit straight lapping a backmarker in the corner. He's 2.2 ahead. Now let's see what strategy was best. Lewis asks Bono : "What gap do I need now?" Bono answers : "OK Lewis, we need to increase the gap by about 4 seconds over the next 20 laps, so we need to look after these tyres but just build that gap." Perfect diction as always. Immediately, Nico's engineer tells him his position is safe and "we're just looking to close the gap to Lewis by 2 seconds at the end of this stint". Well well well.

Meanwhile, Raikkonen overtakes Grosjean who gets back ahead in a fight for P5. JEV DNFs. And Raikkonen overtakes Grosjean again, and Alonso is getting close. He might be having some issues. Grosjean locks up but it's not enough for Alonso yet. He gets the DRS in the pit straight and Grosjean pretty much moves aside for him. He must have an issue.

Nico's engineer again : "the gap looks good, we don't want it to increase and then we'll reduce it in about 10 laps time. Just looking after the tyres." The gap is 2.9. As Brundle sums up, Nico was supposed to get it down to around 2, while Lewis was supposed to get it up to about 6 seconds. "So advantage Rosberg right now". Crofty says the gap was 4 seconds at one point so yeah. It's Lewis now : "Please give me a hand, I've got too much oversteer". Bono suggests closing the (?) turn 4 or 5." The journalists are debating what it is he said. The gap is increasing again, 3.7. 4.2.

It's lap 30. The gap is 4.3. Behind them we still have Daniel, then Valtteri, Raikkonen, Alonso, Grosjean, Seb, Hulkenberg and Perez. Ted says the lap times of the Mercedes show that the difference of performance between the hards and the mediums isn't much. There's marbles on the pit straight already, we're barely halfway through. The gap keeps widening. 4.5. But then it's the other way around, as Nico starts to get back at him just like his engineer had planned. They believe he's quicker. They still have to stop again though. Lewis gets a bit quicker and maintains that gap again. Seb pits. The gap is going down again. Alonso overtakes Magnussen for P7. Seb overtakes Massa for P9. Ericsson is under investigation for ignoring blue flags in front of Raikkonen. Bono : "Okay Lewis, 0 to Nico last lap, gap at 3.8." Lewis answers : “Where have you been for the last couple of laps, man?"

It's lap 40. It seems Raikkonen has switched from a 3-stop to a 2-stop strategy as he hasn't pitted for a second time yet. The two Mercedes are battling sector by sector : one's faster here, the other is faster there. They're both unable to do what their engineers had planned, Nico is not reducing the gap, but Lewis is not extending it either. Behind them it's about the same thing as before : Ricciardo, Bottas, Raikkonen, Alonso, and then Seb is up in P7, followed by Massa and Grosjean who both just overtook Magnussen. Lewis is called in for his last stop. The mechanics are ready in the pits. But he doesn't come in. Neither does Rosberg. The journalists are puzzled. The mechanics put the tyres blankets back on. Brundle wonders if he has radio problems and that's why he asked where Bono had been. The gap is 4 seconds. The mechanics are still in the pit. And he pits. He's on the hards. It's not a great stop, 4.3. It might make the difference in such a race, we'll see. Nico says his tyres are degrading.

Ted thinks both the delay and the somewhat long pitstop are due to a front wing adjustment that was being discussed. Crofty reports the radio log : "3 turns down on the front wing for the prime tyre" – "I said NOT three turns, don't understand why you're doing three, just do the normal two". The gap now is 17.5 seconds. Not enough for Nico to come back out in front after his pit. What now? He's losing time. He does pit. Lewis on the radio again. He asks if his last laps were too slow. Bono says the pace was good at the end of the last stint. "Then why did you bring me in?" he asks. "We're keeping you on the optimum strategy, Lewis, optimum strategy." He's distrustful when he's not in control, as always. Can you imagine the kind of work it took for him to trust Bono as he does now? Even when they’ve been making mistakes lately… Nico's stop lasts 3 seconds. Lewis is ahead, Nico is behind a lapped car. The gap is 6 seconds, but Nico will be on the medium tyres now, given he was on the hards in the last stint. Daniel pits, Valtteri pits. Lewis is on the radio again. He asks what time he did on the pit stop. Bono answers that Nico lost more in traffic "so let's not worry about that now" and to just knuckle down as he has 21 laps to go on prime tyres (so the message was from 2 laps ago).

We're 50 laps in. Rosberg is gaining on Lewis FAST. The gap is down to 3.7 in just three or four laps. Lewis has saved more fuel but they're both in the green. The gap is under three seconds already. 2.7. Oh this is bad. 2.1. 1.8. Back to 2.1. Nico's engineer tells him he needs to look after his tyres to be able to fight Lewis at the end of the race. Honey. It's lap 53. It is the end of the race. The gap widens again. 2.7. Lewis is faster now. 2.9. Alonso pits and Seb overtakes him for P6 as he gets out of the pit exit. Great job! That's 0 change from the start for Alonso and +9 places for Seb. At the front the gap has stabilised. Rosberg picks up the pace again. 2.1. Lewis asks if there's anything more he can do, he says he has left graining and lots of understeer. Bono says they're looking into it.

10 laps to go. Lewis now hits traffic. Seb overtakes Raikkonen for P5! Unbelievable. Bono is back on the radio with some specs Lewis can try, but he starts by "if you can live with it". So… Not reassuring. The gap is down to 1.8.

9 laps to go. They're both a good 45 seconds ahead of Daniel in P3, it's fucking crazy. I get that it's annoying when one team is so far ahead with their car but at least we get a good fight between teammates there. 1.5.

8 laps to go. The traffic is there. 1.2. Rosberg's engineer tells him to think about his overtake strategy while Lewis easily clears the first backmarker. The gap is still 1.2, Nico is also ahead. 1. The pit straight. 0.98. Lewis clears another backmarker.

7 laps to go. Nico clears him too. 1.1. Nico will have the DRS. 1.2. Lewis asks Bono where he's losing time. Mid exit turn 3. He's vulnerable into 4. Alonso is finally attacking Raikkonen, he's been behind all race long. But he can't make it yet.

6 laps to go. At the front, the gap is 1.3. 1.4. Alonso is still not close enough. Valtteri and Seb will also be fighting for P4. Loads of good racing.

5 laps to go. 1.2. 1.1. 1.2.

4 laps to go. Alonso still can't overtake Raikkonen. Seb is really getting close to Valtteri. The gap at the front is 0.9. Seb struggles with grip. Rocky tells him to use his head, there's 4 laps remaining. Just like Alonso, Seb finds the pit straight is not long enough to overtake, even with the DRS. Alonso did attack Raikkonen this time around though, it took him 3 more corners but he did it.

3 laps to go. The gap is 1.018, 0.952… 0.8. Lewis locks up. 0.6… Seb overtook Valtteri for P4! Damn. What an ending. These races are so good. 0.7 at the front,

2 laps to go. 0.5. Come on, come on. It's almost over. Lewis says "no more feedback please", he's focused.

It's the last lap. 0.6. 0.4 at the end of the pit straight. Raikkonen was in the middle of the track but stayed out of the way, good job. 0.5. 0.6. 0.7. 0.5. DRS. But it doesn't help, Nico locks up in the corner. Almost, almost…

LEWIS WINS THE RACE! He's leading the WDC! Phewww, deep breath, damn, so much suspense. Unbelievable. Nico is really a worthy rival. Daniel is P3! It's his first podium, after the one he was disqualified from in Australia. Seb P4, Valtteri P5. Alonso P6, Raikkonen P7.

Bono congratulates Lewis. "A bit close for comfort there at the end but you did it man, you did it!"

As always, Niki is happy about them fighting each other to the end. He was worried but Nico did everything he could to catch him. Nico doesn't wait for Lewis to leave the car. Now we're all waiting to see what happens once they're both in the cool down room.

They shake hands. This is the most silent cool down room I've ever witnessed. Then Daniel gets there. Lewis and Nico are talking about graining. It's silent again.

Nico drowns Lewis in champagne and Lewis sprays the podium girls again which, as I said, I don't like them doing.

Eddie Jordan is in charge of the post race interviews. They sit down on the podium together.

Lewis says the usual. He thanks his team, thank you for the support. Jordan says he was unhappy about the graining and the pit stops over the radio. Is he upset? Lewis says no. He wasn't fast enough today. Nico was quicker. (That's what he said after Bahrain too and some journalists think that's games, at least it has the effect of getting into Nico's head because he's faster but he doesn't win at the end). He says he struggled with the balance and he had to find time where he could and change settings in the middle of the race. Nico was faster this weekend "but fortunately I was able to keep him behind".

Nico thinks he could have given it a good go had he had one more lap. He's a bit gutted, he says, but he's smiling. Second place is still good and the WCC is close. Nico has been on the podium every race this season so far. They're now heading to Monaco, his home race. He says he'll try to repeat last year's win. Then he says "and for everybody who doesn't know, Eddie is my number one favourite neighbour in Monaco".

When he gets back to Lewis, Eddie asks whether he had an idea of all the potential that was being sold to him when he chose to go to Mercedes, even with so many people doubting his decision. He says yes, when he sat down with Ross at his mom's kitchen table this was the idea that was presented to him. He truly believed it was gonna happen but of course he could never have imagined having a 50 seconds gap to Redbull. It's an exceptional job from the team. He feels blessed to be part of this team and to be contributing to getting the results. It's their 4th 1-2, it's unreal.

We get a whole compilation of Lewis' radio comms. Simon asks Toto if he thinks Lewis was particularly irritable. I find that funny (not really) because he genuinely stayed so calm and polite and he's literally just asking questions and telling Bono what he needs and nowadays you get certain drivers yelling not just at things happening in the race but at their engineers and everybody finds it normal. Welp. (At least when they’re white.) Toto answers no, anyway. He says when you're in the midst of it, it's not the time to think about what language you're using. But there wasn't any language. Like really. There wasn't. He was just like. Asking where Nico was and telling them he didn't understand why they wanted to change the front wing setup as they told him they wanted to and asking why they brought him in when they did. In a completely flat, normal, informative tone. This is driving me crazy lol. Like I'm genuinely getting irritated over this. Toto says Lewis has a good relationship with his engineers. They're talking about intensity and controlling it but, again, there was none. Annoying.

That's all for this race!

#f1 #lewis hamilton #vro0m's race reviews #2014 #2014 spanish gp

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the-iron-orchid · 2 years

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Rimworld: Arcana, Part 12: Interesting Times

Heron high on that Doctor’s Sausage yo 🌭

Jinana wanna go bust some rocks of hir own lmao

Hmmm, I mean we could use some extra hands around here...

Dis bitch pretty good, actually, we have several people who are capable caregivers so that incapability doesn’t hurt. Passionate about Mining? Welcome aboard!

That’s fair, it’s been a tad dull around here...

The new arrival attends the party, and is already making some friends!

Neat! More on this later...

The two combatants we rescued earlier have recovered and gone on their way, gaining us quite a bit of goodwill from their faction.

...what the hell ass balls? (It’s a creature from a Caves mod lmao)

Turel continuing to make peculiar masterworks, very on-brand

Sigh. Well, at least we got her to mine like 1000 units of steel for us first!

Here’s how it went down: Jinana walked out of the clinic, all unsuspecting, and Conner bashed hir with the revolver - nothing Jinana can’t sleep off, really. (if the target is too close, a gun-using pawn will start using it melee-style lmao).

Meanwhile, Tsedi was coming back from the latrine, and shot this bitch dead without taking a single hit himself. MVP.

A cargo pod! It collapsed the cave around it and is impossible to retrieve. :D Thanks, Randy... (fortunately it’s just a normal steel longsword, nothing special)

Turel is so happy, he could just... cut somebody open 😅 (His Medical is actually very good, we just have no need for any surgeries right now...)

Augh! I’ve never had drop-pod raiders this early in the game before...

They land directly in Turel and Jinana’s bedroom (fortunately they were able to get out of the way before the roof collapsed). Heron jumps out of bed, sword at the ready...

Jett here immediately uses dynamite, taking out his raiding buddy in the blast. Heron chases him down while Julian runs around in panic, and Tsedi is coming round with his trusty Masterwork chain shotgun.

Looks like Tsedi got in a shot before that guy’s own ally exploded his fucking head and torso with dynamite. gj

Sadly, Turel’s Excellent-quality bed was destroyed, but we did get 54 Neutroamine out of it! (Remember, that is used to make medicine, and it is very hard to come by)

No sooner are we cleaning up the mess, then... geez, Randy, no fucking mercy huh?

Uh, we’re a little busy at the moment... also, aren’t you the guys that sent an infiltrator earlier? Eh, whatever, sure, send your crazed manhunting goats. We’ll see what happens when they run into these raiders 😂

Carnage. All manhunting goats are downed, and some of the raiders are fleeing. The rest are, predictably, making a beeline for our bug neighbors.

Also predictably, it does not go well for them. However, this guy got a weirdly lucky shot on the female Megaspider before he went down...

...and injured her brain, rendering her comatose. It’s possible to go rescue her when the male goes to sleep at night, but I’m not sure we can actually do anything for her. Her injuries are not severe enough for her to bleed to death, so I’m not sure what’s going to happen to her. She may eventually just starve. :c

The new block of rooms is proceeding apace - we can use these for anything from new colonists to makeshift holding cells to housing guests. However, we’re currently maxed out on power, and we’re going to have to build another generator, which consumes resources.

Spring has arrived, and the growing season begins in a few days. This time, we hope to:

Attract some bees

Grow enough rice and corn for the next winter

Cultivate some fruit trees

Before the next winter comes, we should build at least one greenhouse, so we have a more reliable source of winter food. We made it through the winter with enough food left to get by until spring’s first crop of rice is harvested... but just barely!

Will we finally get some bees? What will happen to the female megaspider? Find out next time!

#Jenjamin plays Rimworld #violence cw (raiders lol)#animal death cw (manhunter pack oops)

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shorkbrian · 3 years

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I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn��t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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the-chicken-or-the-banana · 3 years

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andreil and goodbye kisses (pt 3) ft. nicky

part 1, part 2 <3 ||| part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

contrary to popular belief, nicky is actually a relatively observant guy, especially when it comes to his cousins

andrew is a bit more closed off than aaron, but even before nicky found out about andrew and neil, he noticed that andrew was a bit... lighter. happier, almost

so it comes as no surprise that he would be the next one to catch neil and andrew

the cousins, kevin, and neil all head over to Columbia one weekend after a stressful few weeks at school

and it's nice. relaxing. minimal chaos occurs

(ok sure, nicky realized that he forgot about a Marketing project and maybe kevin kept muttering about a "PDA draft" of some sort and yes, aaron nearly flushed his anatomy flashcards down the toilet but that's beside the point)

the five of them had originally planned to come back to PSU on sunday morning so everyone could catch up on their work

but kevin and aaron had gotten weirdly competitive over dance dance revolution the previous night

so everyone was severely lacking in the sleep department

(there was a collective decision to forget about school and instead stay in bed until 1 pm)

nicky ends up waking up around noon though, feeling more rested than usual

and of course, being the oldest person there, nicky decides to check in on everyone, make sure all his "children" were doing okay

he peeps into aaron's room. he finds aaron half off the bed and goes in to quietly fix his cousin's blanket

he peeps into kevin's room. he finds kevin sleeping perfectly straight and wrinkles his nose at the sheer strangeness of sleeping like a literal rod

he peeps into andreil's room. he find them... not there?

now, for all of nicky's good qualities, it cannot be said that he's always the most rational person

so he races over to aaron's room, ready to break down the door screaming that his favorite couple has gone missing

just as he's about to fling open the bedroom door, he hears a quiet laugh coming from downstairs

he freezes

"right. there's another half to the house. i remembered that"

nicky quietly drops his hand and moves away from aaron's room, tiptoeing down the stairs

he moves around the house, unable to find the source of the laugh until he finally reaches the kitchen

there, he finds andrew sitting atop the counter, his legs wrapped around neil, their noses nearly touching

nicky can't see neil's face, but he does notice neil playing with his and andrew's hands, occasionally bringing them up to press a kiss to andrew's knuckles in the middle of conversation

andrew says something quietly to neil, causing him to laugh again and lean up to kiss andrew

(it does not escape nicky's notice that this is the first time andrew has been taller than neil, but really, the adorableness of his two stabby children takes greater precedence over that)

nicky wants to keep looking, wants the reassurance that his cousin is safe and happy and loved

but he also knows that andrew is a private person and nicky should respect his wishes

nicky trusts his cousin. really, he does. it's just— andrew has been through so much, and getting like 5 more seconds of confirmation that andrew's doing okay wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

the beeping of the coffee pot jerks nicky out from his thoughts

he decides to leave, that andreil will be going fine and strong even without his intervention

but in the few seconds it takes to make his decision, something so adorable happens that nicky's poor heart stops functioning for a moment

andrew pouts — pouts! — and tightens his grip on neil, not uncrossing his legs

neil rolls his eyes and brings his hands up to andrew’s face, caressing his cheeks

neil kisses andrew on the nose

andrew hums and begrudgingly lets go of neil

nicky is internally hyperventilating

he’s frozen to the spot as neil pours the coffee into mugs and brings them back to the counter

andrew takes his mug and promptly wraps his legs around neil’s waist again, burying a hand in neil’s hair

he runs a hand through it slowly, bringing it down until his hand is resting on the back of neil’s neck, their foreheads nearly touching

nicky suddenly turns away, feeling raw and surprised by the amount of intimacy he just saw

he lets out a breath. they’ll be okay. andrew’s going to be okay.

he goes back up to his room and lies in his bed, mind running a million miles an hour

after a few seconds of staring up at the ceiling, he turns over, burying his face in his pillow, and screams a muffled proclamation that andreil is the cutest ship to have ever sailed

(a few hours later when they’re on the road back to PSU, aaron turns and asks nicky why he heard screaming coming from his room. nicky shrugs.

“i was just really hoping that the titanic situation doesn’t occur again. wouldn’t want my favorite ship to sink, you know?”)

#it's nicky appreciation hours #also i feel aaron #i too wish to chuck my notes away #andreil #andreil hc #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #the foxes #palmetto state foxes #palmetto state university #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #kevin day #andreil bullet fic #andreil headcanon #:)#my headcanons

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graffitibible · 2 years

Text

danger days but make it a multiplayer fps au

xPoisonPillerx: usually opts for your more standard straightforward offensive classes or light infantry. a well-rounded player with a good sense of strategy, but way too flashy for their own good. excels at hit-and-run tactics and very adaptable; they’re never held back by their equipment loadout no matter how low-quality or substandard. excellent to have on your team for co-op matches, provided you can deal with them being exceptionally bossy on chat. genuinely good at getting the drop on opponents but it’s a toss-up as to whether this is engineered via genuine cunning or by them resorting to spawncamping and fucking around with map exploits. frequently gets strikes for this kind of shit but inevitably manages to sweet-talk the mods out of actually kicking them from the server for good.

KobraKiller: primarily sticks to support classes like medic, which leads people to assume that he’s a free kill during co-op if they can take care of whoever he’s buffing (usually his terrible sibling). this is a very poor beginner’s error to make since he can and will make short work of you if you try to get the drop on him. he almost always sticks to stealth and close quarters during freeplay, and is scarily adept at close-combat and melee to the point where people think he’s botting with how fast his reaction times are. he’s not. he could play competitively if he wanted to, but doesn’t care enough.

fungool69: swaps between heavy infantry, demo, and engineer classes. loves blasting people to gory meat-paste with RPGs and is an insufferable shit-talker. he’s decent enough at team plays but can easily sink to starting shit and screwing things up for their own side during a co-op match purely out of boredom. has a terrible habit of not giving a crap about splash damage and therefore has the highest rate of friendly fire on the server. always teabags their kills and is the second most frequent supplier of shitposts in the discord.

PvtJet: exclusively mains as a long-range precision sharpshooter. exceptionally good at sniping from cheap fuckoff borderline unreachable parts of the map and is the absolute scourge of the server because of the obscene number of immediate headshots he racks up. mostly sticks to co-op because whenever it comes to freeplay his only hope is to keep his opponents at a distance because once you close in on him there’s a 50/50 chance he’s actually lodged himself in some glitched section of the map and can’t actually get out fast enough to escape. communicates almost solely over text-chat and by sending the occasional incomprehensible deep-fried meme.

XxDOOMBOOMxX: never uses voicechat, probably because then it’ll be apparent to everyone just how young she is. n3ws4g0g0 is the only one in the server who knows that this kid is about 12 at the most; despite this being an all-ages server, the kid is insistent on sending GoGo a monthly tithe of pictures of her cat to keep them from kicking her (GoGo wouldn’t kick her anyway, but enjoys receiving cat pictures too much to complain). most of the time she mains as stealth and light infantry but is weirdly good with demo classes. she really shines in co-op when she’s working with a familiar team. fungool69 taught her how to rocket jump and no one has known peace since.

AgtCherriPop: offensive main and just offensive in general. favors a cutthroat aggressive play style and prefers high mobility to make frequent use of run-and-gun to the absolute max. default loadout, no bells and whistles, no special skins, and no specialized equipment. rushes opponents and takes them down, often screaming obscenities into the voice chat as he does so. it’s impossible to tell if he’s having a genuine fit of Gamer Rage or if he’s just doing a bit because he calms down stunningly quickly in time for the next match. in co-op he’ll almost always default to suicide-rush tactics, not caring if he eats shit as long as it secures his team a win.

wkil109fm: almost everyone thinks that there’s no way this guy is for real when they first hear him on voicechat and assume he’s too old to be any good in a match. they all forget that he grew up with boomer shooters like quake and doom and unreal tournament and he will absolutely school anyone who thinks he’s got a slow trigger finger. he sticks primarily to default loadouts, but swaps classes easily, having over time cemented a solid playstyle for just about all of them. he’s nigh unbeatable when it comes to classic one-on-one, which is made even more impressive when you learn that he plays with aim-assist off and crosshairs disabled. everyone calls him “doc” for short due to his tendency to play medic in team matches when no one else is on support. he’s one of the server admins and mods the discord.

n3ws4g0g0: exclusively an engineer main with an intimate understanding of game mechanics and how best to exploit them, a secret which they share with very few. she’s also one of the server’s dedicated griefers, and will absolutely throw a match to make someone’s life difficult from a technical standpoint if they’ve pissed her off enough. makes a brutal team-up with Cherri, backing him up and buffing him with supports in his reckless rush tactics and therefore making them about ten times more effective. text-to-speech on voicechat only and number one supplier of shitposts in the discord.

99hotchimps: mostly mains stealth and light infantry. she’s not a heavy hitter but she’s zippy and can wear opponents down over time. a decidedly defensive player who sticks to waiting out deathmatches until she can swoop in and wipe out any injured survivors. co-mods the discord and WILL kick you if you don’t log in often enough, and is also the only person in the server to bother maintaining this rule at all.

AttentionHorse: mains light infantry almost exclusively high-mobility, light-and-fast, glass cannon type of player that favors agility and sneak tactics. hits very hard but can get taken down quickly if they’re caught. always on voicechat so that the entire server can be treated to their seemingly bottomless music library which consists entirely of vocaloids and early-to-late 2000s pop music, much to the chagrin of any streamer who forgets to keep them muted. they actually have a decent youtube following thanks to a dedicated speedrunning channel but they’ll always make time to tear up some turf with Cherri or Doc during co-op matches.

tommy_chowmein87: literally just here to sell you cosmetics and rares. if there’s some kind of hard-to-find or unique weapon or skin you want, he WILL have it as long as you can pay. you can recognize him because he’s the only person with a default skin who never actually fires a single shot in a match. he moves around just enough to avoid getting timed out but almost all his time on the server is spent initiating or turning down player trades. anyone who thinks he’s a free kill during pvp matches quickly learns otherwise when Doc materializes seemingly out of nowhere to rain holy hellfire on you - and then, assuming Tommy is still alive at that point, headshot the son of a bitch himself at point blank range.

scarecrow3542317: the server admin nobody likes. everyone shittalks him in the discord, which he has, as far as anyone knows, no idea exists. he’s actually very good at freeplay and pvp deathmatches but abjectly horrible in co-op. sticks rigidly to the server rules and gets huffy when people engage in pointless or cheap shit like map exploits. number one petitioner of player bans for that specific purpose. he’s best as heavy infantry and mid-range gunner classes but lacks creativity and is easily predictable once you’ve learned his patterns.

Ultra_Velocity: always opts for general offensive classes. he’s decent if bossy as a team lead (especially on voice chat) but is easily goaded into making mistakes and tunnel visions very easily. he’s a twitch streamer with a couple hundred casual subscribers but resents the fact that his most famous clips literally all involve xPoisonPillerx pulling off batshit stunts on Velocity’s streams. as a result Velocity fosters an extremely one-sided rivalry with them and is determined to beat them on the server scoreboard. he insists that he’ll manage it one of these days.

HotterTwin and CoolerTwin: they’re a matched set and frankly they’re just here for the cosmetics and player skins. most of the time they stick to support classes and buffing other team members (usually each other) so they don’t have to worry about tactics or making judgment calls. they’re surprisingly good when they’re on the same side and can tag-team other players fairly efficiently, but when they’re on the opposite sides of a co-op match they will focus their attention solely on each other and ignore everyone else, driving both of their teams utterly bananas. at times one of them will manage to score their team a win in a seemingly random stroke of brilliance (to which both will attempt to claim credit without fail). honestly it’s a wonder they don’t lose more matches thanks to their godawful ping scores. they’re both also very keen to plug their youtube channel in the discord (it’s makeup. sometimes nails. sometimes gaming while doing nails. but usually makeup.)

VINYLDESTINATION: heavy artillery weapons main only. he plays like any good disruption tank; he’ll soak up damage and deal it out hard. it takes a lot to put him down thanks to how much he’s beefed up his survivability over time. Velocity insists that he play support instead of tanking, and he literally never does. he never talks on voicechat and communicates solely through duke nukem soundbytes.

V0lumeControl: largely mains unobtrusive support and defensive classes and is possessed of a thoroughly average playstyle. the fact that he’s easily overlooked makes him pretty good at sliding past the attention of other players, and if he were interested in climbing up the server scoreboard that wouldn’t be a bad strategy. unfortunately for everyone, that is not his goal in any of his play sessions because Volume is purely there to spruce up matches by annoying the hell out of his teammates with Vinyl as the silent enabler. as it happens Volume is immune to actually being kicked thanks to his role as unofficial bot-wrangler in the discord.

mike_milligram: takes the game wayyyy too seriously. routinely spends gratuitous amounts of lobby time prior to a match meticulously planning a strategy with the rest of his time on the voicechat, oblivious to the fact that they all mute him immediately after. he’s a very conventional player to the point where it’s kind of boring because he always does the same loadout, the same skins, the same strategy, and he insists that it doesn’t need changing because it works (it only sometimes works). never plays support but will juggle offensive and heavy classes based on what he’s feeling.

MonsterBash44: takes the game very seriously, which isn’t as embarrassing when you’re a child and also the target audience. prefers to play offensive and heavy infantry classes but isn’t opposed to changing things up if the team’s lacking a little spice. is a surprisingly aggressive and ruthless player during freeplay, sticking to melee rushing his opponents, which has a good track record as long as you don’t see him coming. his dad regularly tries to buy him cosmetics that he doesn’t actually want but he has no idea how to make him stop.

animaximum: has the prettiest avatar in the entire server, absolutely decked out with top-tier cosmetics and rares, which makes absolutely no goddamn sense considering how piss awful at the game he actually is, no matter who he’s attempting to main. Red saves his ass constantly even during freeplay matches when she’s ostensibly supposed to be another opponent.

100percent: dps tank. frontline heavy melee fighter who strikes fear in everyone’s hearts when she spawns into a deathmatch thanks to her absolute understanding of game mechanics to the point where she hits fast, hard, and out of nowhere. shockingly high-mobility lightning bruiser. she plays more defensively than her reputation and scoreboard position would suggest, and is a veritable bulwark in any co-op match. when it comes to freeplay, you’re better off either teaming up against her or with her if you want to make it to the end.

biginfrared: disgruntled team lead on co-op matches and begrudging ally for whoever looks like they need the most help during freeplay (usually Max, but sometimes Monster). when it comes down to the wire she’s real bad at pulling the trigger on Monster in pvp, which he positively hates because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone going easy on him. in co-op Red prefers support classes, primarily because she sticks close to her sister and together they wreak absolute havoc.

bluehairedbitch: lightning glass cannon of a player, highly mobile and favors super aggressive rush tactics but can leave herself wide open, especially in co-op since she generally operates with the assumption that someone else on her team has her back. positively lethal in deathmatches. will happily team up with someone else to mow down half the map but has no qualms shooting said partner in the back once the competition has been whittled down.

#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #in another universe #this is GOING in the au tag #this is the darkest timeline....the one where they are all gamers......#feat all characters i could think of things to do for. mv chars. twitter chars. comics chars. nat am chars.#this is the closest thing to nat am fic you'll get from me on account of: i hated it and it was bad #i spent too much time on this #thank you nestie for giving me SO many ideas for a lot of these lmao this was fun

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T+ for blood, language, nudity, and horny

Warnings: Implied pain/blood kink

Summary: Local vampire tries to give her human soulmate a bath, but the human is feral and loving it. Then it gets a lil horny, to both of their frustration.

Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

2: Bloodbath, Baby!

“I take it you changed your mind about the clothes? Or am I supposed to use these towels like a makeshift toga?” You asked, glancing around the bathroom, eying the ornate tub with mild interest. This certainly wasn’t where you had expected Cassandra to take you, especially not when she had somewhat promised you garments to wear. There were no pants or shirts (or even dresses) in sight, just a rack of the softest looking towels you had ever seen. It was admittedly difficult for you to resist the urge to use one to wipe the blood off of your shoulder. However, you figured that it would be best to save that for after you were given a good behavior prize. After all, it was much more fun to be a bastard if your “victim” (not that Cassandra really counted as that) knew how polite you were capable of being, and you were, under normal circumstances, very polite. Most of the time. Maybe.

“What did I say about talking?” Cassandra snapped at you, glaring at you from her perch on the counter. She was sitting on the edge, waiting for something, occasionally eying the room’s entrance.

“You told me to shut up for ‘five minutes’. It’s been eight, at the very least! I’ve been holding back, just for you, babe,” you replied, smirking as you did. For a moment your soulmate seems to consider chucking a bar of soap at your head. Eventually she thinks better of it, opting to roll her eyes at you instead. “For the record, I did count, just to be sure. Wouldn’t have wanted to make any assumptions about the passage of time, considering how fast time seems to fly when I’m with a loved one.” Unfortunately, this does not get a rise out of Cassandra, who has shifted to face away from you. Not yet willing to give up your buffoonery (and assuming that you would not, in fact, be getting a good behavior prize anytime soon), you released a loud, exaggerated sigh, before switching tactics.

Standing up with the blanket still curled around yourself, you maneuver over to the tub, eagerly climbing inside. With how large it was, laying down was fairly easy, though you weren’t entirely flat. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, you adjust yourself and the blanket until it covers you, while letting one end go behind your head like a pillow. It’s nowhere near as nice as you had hoped. On the plus side, however, is the attention it gets from Cassandra. Before long she’s standing adjacent to the tub, staring down with an expression of exasperation.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked.

“Napping, obviously. Care to join me?” You answered, without hesitation. Then you gently pat the blanket, as if offering to let her sit on top of you. This only serves to make her angrier. Now she’s leaning over the basin, bracing one hand against it, her other hand reaching to grab your throat and pull you towards her. The two of you are so close that you can’t help but blush, and the feeling of her skin against yours is weirdly attractive. “I should have known you were the kinky type. Not that I mind,” you murmured, gaze wandering a little farther south than her lips. Before you know it she’s shoved you back down and let go of you. She shakes her hand a bit, like she’s just touched something gross, but you see the pink rising on her cheeks. As much as you want to tease her, the sound of approaching footsteps takes priority. Soon the door is opening, revealing a stressed servant, a pile of clothes in her arms. Suddenly you’re glad that Cassandra pushed you away, considering you don’t think she would have enjoyed having someone walk in on the two of you in that position.

“Lady Cassandra, I have what you requested. Would you like me to draw a bath for you? Or-” she pauses when she sees you, clearly unsure of what to make of your behavior. Hell, she almost drops what she’s carrying, and makes a soft ‘oh’ sound. Presumably dying inside, Cassandra quickly takes the bundle from her. Then she stands between the two of you, blocking line of sight, looking as tense as could be.

“Just get back to work, and don’t mention this to anyone,” she growled, gesturing towards the door. As soon as the maiden closes it behind her, Cassandra is turning back to you. “Get rid of that stupid fucking blanket or I’m forcing you to wear wet socks.” Understandably, you start giggling at her request, hardly able to believe that she had really just said those words out loud. “Would you prefer I cut up the soles of your feet? I’ll heal long before you do, asshole.” Now that makes you pause, trying to figure out whether or not her threat held up. Even though everyone had a basic understanding of how blood bonds worked (the less romantic, and more historic, way to refer to soulmates), the specifics were confusing for most people, including yourself. Would your aching wounds bother her? Or only the initial injury?... Somehow you had a feeling you’d figure out the answer within the next few days.

Until then, you decide to err on the side of caution, for once in your life. Still, you roll your eyes before you pull the blanket up and out of the tub. Again you spot a faint rosy tint on Cassandra’s face, and her gaze most definitely lingers on places other than your eyes. In the end you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from calling her out on it. Gotta get some clothes first, you think, then back to being a dick. Holding back only gets harder from there.

Wordlessly, Cassandra takes a seat by the front of the tub, where your feet are propped up on the edge. Giving you a judgemental look, she pushes them aside so she can reach the controls knobs easier. You give an exaggerated pout in response, only for her to ignore you completely, trying very hard to look anywhere but at you. It was in stark contrast to how she had looked at you a mere half an hour earlier. There were several interesting things to note about her behavior, and you found yourself almost excited to figure out the puzzle she presented. Did she care about you now? Simply because of your blood bond? Did she have a genuine soft spot for romance?... Those sorts of questions were all you could think about, even as Cassandra turned the handles, letting cold water splash into the tub.

“I’d say ‘fuck you’ but honestly, were I in your position I would likely do the same,” you said, shivering a little. Cassandra raises an eyebrow, staring at you like you were stupid, before turning the handle a bit more. Eventually you figure out what she meant by it. “What, you guys don’t have a quality water heater? This is Romania for fuck’s sake. I would have figured the water would be a hell of a lot hotter by now,” you added, only for her to splash some still very much cold water on your face. “Is this fun for you? Are you enjoying this? God, I hope you assholes have Legos somewhere in this maniac menagerie, so I can step on them while you sleep.”

“Do you always spit in the face of kindness?” Cassandra asked, moving towards the other end of the tub as she spoke. Once more you laugh, though this time it’s much more of a hollow sound, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “My sister wanted to kill you, but I pulled your pathetic corpse out of the basement, now I’m letting you use my bath, and you’re mocking me. This is why I don’t bother with this shit,” she growled, even as she wets a washcloth and starts dabbing at your wounds. On one hand you understand her frustration… but on the other you couldn’t get the image of her past victims out of your head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be clean than not,” you started to say, pausing to think for a moment. Then you reach out, putting your hand over Cassandra’s, making her freeze in place. It’s soft enough of a touch to surprise her. Which is why it’s so easy for you to snatch the towel from her hands. “You ‘don’t bother’ with this ‘shit’ because you’re a fucking sadist, who thinks all humans are beneath you, who acts like she has every right to bleed innocent people dry, who thinks she’s God’s gift to this goddamn hellhole we call Earth. Do you think this makes up for your sins? Do you-” her nails dig into your arm and she grits her teeth in pain- “think that I can forget listening to the screams of your victims? Whose graves is this castle built upon? Whose fucking bones am I standing on? Who died to keep you alive? How many other versions of me have you killed, in other timelines, in other lives, where the universe didn’t demand that we be together? I’ve seen your heart, girl, and it’s as raw as they come.”

There’s a brief second of intense, furious eye contact. Then a flash of movement, a rush of pain, tears filling the corner of your eyes. Blood pours from the new hole in your shoulder, but Cassandra is quick to lick it up. She’s groaning in between each run of her tongue across your skin, clearly feeling it every bit that you were, yet she shows no signs of stopping. If anything, her pain seems to spur her on harder. Even you can’t help but blush a little as you struggle beneath her grip. Why did vampires have to use their mouths? Why couldn’t they get blood transfusions, like the rest of society? This way, your pleasure mixes with your misery, leaving you confused, and the fact that you’re still naked is not at all helping.

“Oh fuck off, please,” you gasped, trying to push her off of you. To your surprise, she does as asked, pulling away after one last lick. When you turn to look at her, you see your blood covering her lips and dripping down her chin. “You’re a mess, Cassie. Hot water?” With that you return her favor from earlier, splashing some of the (finally above room temperature) water in her direction. Most of it misses her. A few drops, however, do manage to hit their mark. Then she’s wiping her face on her sleeve, scowling the whole time. There’s still plenty of blood on her face afterwards, but it’s nothing compared to what’s gathering on your shoulder. She eyes the wound, nostrils flaring briefly, a predator dying for one more bite. “If you bite me again, I swear to whoever that one lady y’all worship is, I will bite you. My teeth aren’t made for that shit, but I don’t care. We’ll both be miserable and that’s it, baby! That’s love! I’m threatening you with an unhealthy perception of affection, dipshit!”

This time you expect her to move away, or hit you, or do anything other than what she does. Calling your bluff, she moves around the ever-filling tub, pausing to turn the water off, before hiking the edges of her dress up and… oh. Oh. Somehow she’s in the tub with you now, legs on either side of your waist, presenting the side of her neck to you with a knowing smirk. But you are not known for your cleverness. Nor your ability to make good decisions, at that. Perhaps your blood loss was starting to affect your cognition. Whatever made you so feral, so beautifully unhinged, you embraced it with utter glee. Soon enough your teeth find themselves on Cassandra’s throat, digging in enough for you to feel your blood bond reacting. For a moment she stiffens in response. Then she relaxes, even takes in a rush of air that sounds oddly content, leaning into your touch. What the fuck? You think, almost shocked enough to let go. Almost.

“What’s the matter, pet? I thought you wanted me to know what it felt like on the other side of things?” Cassandra teased, voice quiet and low. Something about her tone sends a familiar, although unwanted, feeling to your core. Still, her words egg you on, and you find yourself biting harder, tugging at the skin a little. More tears gather in your eyes, but you fight through the pain as best as you can. You drag your teeth across her skin, wishing for sharper canines, before letting go to inspect your work. There’s a clear outline where your mouth had been, but not a single drop of blood. Frustrated, you go back in for seconds, choosing a different spot to target. Again you go through the motions, only for no crimson to stain your lips. This cycle repeats several more times, with you running your tongue along her neck in between bites, so focused that you don’t realize that she’s grinding against you until she stops.

“I need to file my teeth,” you mused, trying to forget about what you had just done. Now that it’s over, Cassandra seems to feel the same, and she quickly climbs back out of the tub. She’s refusing to meet your gaze, instead focusing on arranging the clothes the servant had brought earlier. By the time she’s facing you again her blush is almost entirely gone.

“Finish cleaning up, then bandage yourself and get dressed. I’ll have a maiden wait outside to bring you back to my room. Don’t even think about trying to run,” Cassandra said sternly. You’re too distracted by the thought of what happened to give her any snarky response. So she simply nods to herself, then leaves, slamming the door behind her. Though you had expected to be relieved by her absence, you find yourself groaning, holding your head in your hands. Why is she so attractive? This is probably illegal, you think, in at least several countries. Or it should be, at least. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing to distract you from the price of her attention, with your shoulder and neck aching horribly. Cleaning up was going to hurt even worse. Still, you think, at least I’ll have some time to think of new insults. With that in mind, you begin to wash away the blood, thoughts entirely consumed by your newest ‘partner’.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #unhinged maiden #well personally I prefer the term feral #absolutely feral #goddamn menace #blunt teeth sharp tongue #please enjoy #not beta read

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sizeshiftingdeath · 3 years

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Ends and Starts (MCYT G/T Exchange!)

Hello there sizeshiftingdeath! I received your prompts for the gift exchange, and while I tried to start pretty close to your prompt, my ideas kind of spiraled out of control, I hope you don't mind ^^' I can make something else with another prompt if it doesn't fit what you were hoping for, though! There's also a little bit of extra information down the bottom with some stuff I thought of about the au I accidentally made.

Prompt given: ‘A human caught in the rain finds a giant in the forest’

The world is pockmarked with evidence of the tragedies of the past. Of warped land that paints the horrors that befell things that came before. The living reminders of them continue to live on in perpetuity, as immortal creatures that were wreathed in the horrors that life on Earth had endured in the past.

Bask in their horrible might.

There is the Death from Burning and Fire and Falling from the Sky and Cold Choking Death, the End of the Cretaceous. A massive beast, the bloody end of an era of enormous fauna. A destruction made all the more powerful by how quickly it was achieved. It stalks the land and sea and, where it steps, the plants die of lack of sunlight and the ground turns to tar.

There is the Death from Ever Hunting and Chasing and Too Warm Too Bright - Tech, the man-shaped leviathan, death in the shape of something familiar to mankind, the Killer of the Pleistocene. The death of great megafauna in an icy world from the encroaching warmth of a new era, the sharp point of a spear. It hunts the world with spears and arrows of fire and, in the depths of its nest, all water has turned to vapor and the earth itself has become a wasteland.

There is the Death of Falling Frozen Seas, of a primordial sea strangled to death under a glacier lock, Her Lady of the primaeval oceans, the Death of the Ordovician. The tail-end of an explosion of life, stretched too far by their own hubris. And yet, despite being a beast with a hundred trilobite and eurypterid faces, one that has a herald in the form of a human by Her side, for reasons that have yet to become known. Maybe, just like every other esoteric thing that such beasts may do, it shall remain a mystery forever.

Look and see. A new immortal is emerging from its eggshell of tragedy. The unstoppable bomb and burning oilfield. The death through hubris and a slow choking unraveling of your very being. The death of man from crackling radiation and tainted iridescent-film water and ash filled smoke. The destruction of the Anthropocene.

Except. This is a creature who was born prematurely. Because man is not dead nor feeling its own final throes. It was not born wreathed in the screams of the damned, only the fears held in the hearts of the still-living. It is naïve and curious and did not yet have the star of a hundred million species’ souls to power it yet. It was stunted.

And that is why the first human the newest apocalypse met was so important.

…

The forests are deep and dark. Quiet yet shivering with life. Constantly moving and yet trapped in some space between time. Most of all, they expected nothing more from you than for your own two legs to be able to travel. Ranboo liked that.

It certainly was nicer than what he had to deal with outside of the forest at least. Here he could continue walking and listening and breathing for as long as he still could move forward. This forest in particular was a favorite, with a constant twilight quality to it that played into its timelessness.

He stumbled over a log, slipping slightly on the slick moss, and focused as strongly as he could on his surroundings. It was hard when he could so quickly slip into his thoughts. He needed to enjoy his surroundings. He needed to stay in the present and not phase out like fog.

Ironically, it was his attempts to ground himself that prevented him from noticing what was slowly growing more wrong in the forest around him. The scent of ash in the air. The lack of birdsong or rustle of leaves. The trees, growing darker and more burnt-looking, and the dead logs that were bristling with fungi.

But when he stepped out into a clearing with an enormous rock embedded into the middle of it, Ranboo really couldn’t help but realize all of the discrepancies. The illusion of an eternal twilight had been broken with the red light that streamed down. The ground was distressingly clear of ground cover, instead dusted with ash.

Forest fire? He hadn’t heard of any in the area but… What else would it be?

Ranboo looked up at the sun, which had meandered towards the west since he had entered the forest. There were dark clouds gathering above him in worrying amounts, and the air was a little hard to see through with the particles suspended in it. He frowned at it.

Something was wrong here, he could sense it in a deeply animalistic kind of way. As if there was something screaming in his hindbrain to run.

He didn’t run. This was the forest that he has walked a hundred times before, when did this happen? Why had this happened? He needed to find out.

Overhead, thunder rumbled. A droplet of curiously dark water fell on his face.

Ranboo stepped towards the other side of the forest clearing that should not have been there.

And that's when a living embodiment of a mass extinction came shambling out of the ashen trees.

Ranboo didn’t know which detail he noticed first about this rogue apocalypse beast. Was it the limp brown hair that was almost black with iridescent oil slick? Was it the enormous horns that curled jutting from its face and looked more like scrap metal than keratin? Was it the uranium-glass green stripes that criss-crossed like cracks in ceramic along it’s skin?

Or was it the fact that this one was shaped like a man?

The apocalypse beasts always most resembled the myriad that had died in their creation. The death of the Ice Age looks vaguely like a man, if squinted at, mostly because so many cousins to humanity had died in its formation. It was more like an enormous boar-beast on two legs that had the arms of a man, if anything. This one did not look remotely like the death of the Ice Age.

Ranboo took a flying leap from horror and realization to hysteria. This is the death of humans. The death by nuclear bombs and smoke and oil. The fabled next apocalypse beast, the bringer of the end of the world, was already here.

For a moment of absolute blinding terror he wondered if this meant that all other humans on Earth were dead now. That today was the day the entirety of humanity died, leaving just him wandering the forest endlessly. That nuclear armageddon occurred and he was out there worried about keeping himself grounded enough to admire the birds.

The beast - and he was never in doubt that this was an apocalypse beast, even if he had never seen any of the others in person before something shook like a leaf in his soul simply from being near it - loomed over him. It watched him like a bug under a glass with nuclear hazard yellow-and-black eyes, and the spell of frozen muscles snapped in Ranboo. He bolted towards the boulder in the middle of the clearing and pushed his way into a space between it and a smaller boulder at its base, scrambling to find a smaller crack to squeeze himself into to just get himself out of reach of the beast, of the black water, of everything.

He could hear a rasping, clicking-crackling sound. (A Geiger Counter.) He could see glowing green-striped fingers reach under the edges of the rock he had wedged himself under. Could see, in the sickly chartreuse light they cast, fingernails larger than his head catch the rock. Felt the weight of the boulder lift from his back.

Ranboo was left crouching and shaking, so scared he couldn't breathe (or maybe it was the ash or the slimy water that couldn’t be rain), as the apocalypse beast crouched down further. It crackled and clicked with a mouth that seemed all too human to be able to make those noises, and then it. Crooned? With a voice that was more like a siren shriek turned down, weirdly echoey as if speaking from far away, it clicked and whined and Ranboo was so confused he didn’t even see the hand reach down and pick him up by the back of his shirt.

He screamed and flailed, imagination jumping into overdrive about what horrifying things the beast could do, and just as quickly, he was dropped with a whoomph to the ground and the death of Mankind jerked back. Ranboo gasped and sputtered as half of face got thoroughly soaked with ash-water mud, and hoisted himself up again to get away from the apocalypse beast.

Who was crouching over him, luminous trefoil eyes barely a foot away from his own, still crooning that awful siren tone. From this close Ranboo could faintly see radiation burns pockmarking its skin, and a horrible scar of curled and ridged skin along its face, as if it was victim to a close-range bomb explosion.

It tilted its head, leaning a tiny bit closer, and Ranboo threw his arms up to cover his face. God, it itched where the ash water had splashed on him. Why was it itching so much?

The death of Mankind stopped again, looking up into the sky and then down at Ranboo again. It seemed to come to a conclusion, because it then slowly - oh so slowly, why was it being careful? - cupped its hands out in front of it and held them out to him.

It… Wanted him to climb on. Into the grasp of a literal specter of death specifically designed with the destruction of his own species in mind.

Ranboo, in a moment of blind panic and stupidity, climbed on. It looked polite, he reasoned. He was already going to die just from being close to this thing.

It continued to… yes, it definitely was cooing now, in that horrifying voice, and for a moment Ranboo wondered if maybe he misinterpreted. Maybe this thing wasn’t meant to represent the nuclear apocalypse.

His eye had started to itch where the water touched it. He rocked himself in the grasp of this giant, feeling footholds in the craggy radiation-worn skin, and felt the side of his face.

The moment e touched it, a white-hot flash of horrible burning pain hit him like a truck, knocking him into a stupor of yelling. It was as if his face was burning, was twisting and gnarling just as much as the apocalypse beast’s horns did. Under his hand, stiff with pain and unable to move away, he could feel skin slough off, could feel the cells themselves die off in droves, in response to whatever radiation or toxin was in the ash-water.

He couldn’t even register the sensation of fingers larger than his torso curling around him and holding him steady, of him being pressed up against a vast chest that beat unsteadily like a stuck clock, of the vast thumps of footfalls against a diseased forest floor.

All he could feel is pain, burning coiling tunneling pain that tried to tear out his face, his hands, his neck, burning him bright and radiant like a star.

…

The creature was screaming in its hands. It hadn’t stopped screaming for a long time.

It was small and writhing and melting. Creatures usually didn’t like melting.

The death of Humanity wasn’t sure how to make it stop. It had dashed out of the black-rain (that seemed to make the melting worse, maybe it’ll stop once it’s out of the rain?) to its home cave, hoping that perhaps it could figure something out in the comfort of its own home.

The creature’s screams had died down, though whether it was from its pain being alleviated or their voice giving out, the death of Humanity couldn’t tell. All it could tell was that it wasn’t getting up, wasn’t looking at it with those wide curious scared-but-interested eyes.

Most animals ran from the death of Humanity. Land-creatures would yell in fear and flee, birds would rise up into the sky in huge swarms only to be struck down by the black-rain. Even insects would twitch and die when they got near, which led so many to flee this part of the forest entirely. It was a lonely existence. But this human hadn’t run like the other animals had. It had hid, yes, but it had viewed the death of Humanity in all of its glory and it almost, almost, was ok with it being picked up.

And then something had happened and now the human was dying just like all of the other animals and the Nuclear Apocalypse didn’t know what to do.

Be well. Be alright. Be just like you were before, it thought, delicately laying the twitching human on the ground out of reach of the dripping black-water puddles, in a nest of dried grasses and leaves that had swept into the cave over the years. It prodded the human with a finger, whining softly when all it did was spasm like a dying insect. It wasn’t dying, right? It was just hurt? It couldn’t be hurt, the death of Humanity wouldn’t allow it. Not when it was so curious and didn’t flee like the others. Not when the death of Humanity had a chance to learn from it. Even now, writhing in its palm, it could feel the frantic beating of life and warmth, things it had so rarely seen before.

You will be well. You must be well. I will make you well.

...

When he came to, it was to complete darkness.

Well, no. Not totally. There was a faint glimmer of far away light somewhere to his left. A shuffling shadow, a faint sickly green glow.

His right was totally dark though, and he couldn’t quite open his eye. He almost brought his hand up to touch it before violently flinching as he remembered what had landed him here in the first place. Would it start burning and melting horribly like it did before? That he was even awake to wonder that is a miracle in of itself... Or the start of the second round of his torture.

Horrible curiosity pushed him to touch, as lightly as possible, the skin on his right cheek. It… He couldn’t feel it. Or rather, he could feel the sandpaper surface of extremely rough skin, but he couldn't feel the pressure, the burning bright pain. The entire area was dead to the touch.

Ranboo threw himself as upright as he could make himself, which ended up only being a half kneel before falling back over into a sit. His breath hitched and he felt his face more firmly, the rough scratchy surface of skin that splattered like paint over the right side of his face, over his eye, down his neck and onto his arm. The muted tingling where it met smoother skin along his shoulder and the bridge of his nose. In an act of desperation he even poked at his eyelid, trying to pry it open to see if he could ever see from that eye again.

His hand passed in front of his working eye in that moment, and at this point his focus had sharpened enough to make out vague colors in the dim light. His hand… It was a black far darker than any human could naturally produce, with a grey-green cast that made him look sickly.

I feel sickly, he reasoned to himself. What is going on? He waved his hand a little frantically, as if the new midnight shade was something that was just stuck to his skin. Desperately he held up his other (totally numb to the touch) hand, hoping it hadn’t changed too.

Well, good news - it wasn’t midnight black.

Bad news - it was a shade so pale that it looked totally devoid of blood. And the raspy surface he could feel didn’t look any prettier to the eye. It didn’t have that same grey-green tint to it though, which was nice, because it would’ve shown up really well on this pure white canvas.

Why was he even thinking about looks right now? He was in the den of an Apocalypse Beast Ranboo get your head together! This was absolutely not the right time to space out - he needed to stay in the moment!

His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he tried to get himself upright. He had only just gotten himself steady when he felt the rattle of large footsteps shake through the ground. Before Ranboo could even think to run though, the shadows out of the corner of his eyes resolved into the beast, which made its way all too quickly towards him.

He couldn’t run if he wanted to. And besides, the damage done to him would probably kill him. He was on borrowed time as is. What did he have left to do but to see what the beast did?

It slowed as it came closer, reaching out a vast clawed hand towards him. Despite his resignation towards his fate, Ranboo flinched back as it came way too close way too fast. A movement that the beast obviously didn't notice or interpret or care about, because he was scooped up into its palm without a moment's hesitation.

“No!” He yelled, wriggling and pushing away from the cage of fingers around him. The beast paused in bringing him up to its face, and if Ranboo was being generous he could call the look on its face a frown.

In less than a blink the face of the beast was so close way too close and he almost punched it (for all the help that would do) out of reflex. It blinked at him with those lucent yellow-black eyes, laser sharp in their focus upon him. He felt for all the world like an ant being peered at through a magnifying glass. Maybe he’ll be fried like one too.

“What do you want with me?” He asked, voice cracking in fear. “What is it you want?”

It didn’t answer in that siren tone again, but instead shifted its weight to the side and turned its palms so that Ranboo was standing squarely in one of them. The other was drawn up and one sharp-clawed finger was pointed at Ranboo. Or, well. The side of Ranboo’s face that he couldn’t see from just yet.

He trembled with the anticipation of the jagged nail at the end of the beast’s outstretched finger spearing forward. But all it did was touch, very gently, under the damaged eye. The beast frowned even more.

Then it jabbed at him, hard enough to bruise but not much else, directly into Ranboo’s damaged eye. He yelped and jumped away, tumbling off his feet in the cup of the beast’s fingers and slapped a numb hand over numb face. Even if he couldn’t feel the area, it still surprised him enough to believe for a moment he could sense it again. Except… was that still his imagination? The eye under his pale skin was starting to itch and water, the first sensation he felt from it since he had woken up, and with a gasp he was able to open his eye.

Fuzz. That’s all he could see from that eye. The beast leaned forward and poked at his face again, softer this time, and when he opened his eye again the world had snapped into focus, tinged with red around the edges. He blinked a few times, and felt a trail of something wet leak from that eye onto his cheek.

What had happened? “You… You healed me?” He asked up at it. It was still frowning even as he had two working eyes again, and muttered softly in a voice that sounded like something crumbling into splinters. Then it poked him for a third time, this time on the shoulder, and Ranboo held back a yell of pain as the area lit up in a blaze of sensation that felt like liquid fire. As he watched, the black skin around the edges of the wound cracked and veins of bright green glowed beneath.

Just… Like… The beast…

Oh no.

The pain of his nerves coming back to life was nothing when compared to the cold horror that had bubbled into his stomach. There was a single case of a human managing to gain immortality as a result of an apocalypse beast. One of the first beasts, Her Lady of the Primordial Sea, the beast of the Ordivician extinction, had taken pity upon an ancient human who was trapped in the glacial ices that herald her path across the Earth, and had gifted it with immortality and a pair of wings that made him as beastly as the Lady he served.

Nobody knew exactly why the Angel of the Deaths had been spared, and why not a single human had ever had that happen before or since. All that was really known about him was his violence, and that he had an uncanny ability to be where an apocalypse beast would be travelling to next. He was just as inhuman and alien as the beasts themselves, if in a smaller form.

It had only ever happened once. Until now, obviously.

Ranboo stared at his white hand, prickling with waking nerves under the surface and twisting with green strands that trailed under his skin like angry snakes, and knew that he was a monster now. Somehow, it was freeing. Like he finally got an answer to a question he had asked over and over. Why him, why now, why is he still alive, why is he not afraid enough…

He stared back up at the apocalypse beast and it blinked down at him. It was no longer frowning, only looking thoughtfully now. “You’re not going to hurt me.” It wasn’t a question.

It reached a hand back up, maybe to poke him again, but this time rubbed his hair very lightly. He did not flinch this time, steeling up his willpower to allow this touch (It won’t hurt him. He needs to keep repeating it until it is true. It won’t hurt him. He was its now it wouldn’t hurt him).

It made that soft crooning noise again, like it had before lifting the rock he had been hiding under, and despite it being underlaid with sounds specifically designed to inspire fear in humans, he could find himself getting used to it. (Would have to. He’s an abomination now after all. The second angel.)

“You’re not so bad, are you…” He slowly pushed himself to his feet, flexing his newly sensated hand carefully. “I still don’t know what you are or why you are here now but…”

The beast tipped its head curiously and warbled exactly the same words back at Ranboo. He froze, because it was so much like his own voice except under deep layers of static, before shaking his head. Best get introductions out of the way - this creature was obviously smart. It was the death of Humanity after all.

He pointed to his chest. “Ranboo.” He gave it a few pokes for emphasis, and the beast poked him too before mimicking his name. He wasn’t entirely sure it actually got what that meant but, well. Baby steps.

Then he pointed at it. It blinked a few times (and Ranboo really couldn’t help but anthropomorphize its reactions - this thing was just too uncannily human to not) and chirped out another ‘Ranboo.’ He gestured more firmly, pointing at the beast.

It continued to look with (probably) bafflement for a few moments, before letting loose a cacophony of sounds that sent Ranboo’s hands slapping over his ears. It was all of the sounds of falling trees, of squawking birds, of the blazing sun and frigid cold and most of all the explosive fire and cold falling ash-water and death from sickness. It was everything and more that wrapped up the death of Humanity in a nutshell.

Ranboo blinked. That might take a while to learn how to pronounce.

He decided to call it Tubbo for short.

<End> There we have it! I hope that you enjoyed this - I hope it didn't betray too much how much stuff like this interests me and that this was potentially also 3000 words of me nerding out about mass extinctions.

Anyways, here's some details I had added but had no way of explaining naturally within the story that i was a little proud of ^^'

The Anthropocene apocalypse beast is also called the unstoppable bomb and burning oilfield. Shortened to TUBBO. Ha.

There’s 7, now 8 apocalypse beasts (Great Oxidation Event, Ordovician, Devonian, Permian, Triassic, Cretaceous, Pleistocene, and now Anthropocene). I originally intended there to just be 5 (for the big five mass extinctions) and then a 6th Anthropocene apocalypse beast, but then I thought I really should add in the great oxidation event that almost caused extinction of all non-oxygen breathing creatures on a very early earth, and the death of most megafauna in the Pleistocene era.

Society is way different with these living eldritch abominations just shambling across the globe, causing a trail of destruction behind them. A lot less large cities, for one.

The Ordovician apocalypse beast is Kristin, yes. She’s uplifted Phil into something similar to what Ranboo is now. I kinda want to think more about her and her story with Phil.

The Pleistocene apocalypse beast is Techno. Idk why I chose to do that but it seemed to fit. Especially since the leading theory on Pleistocene megafauna death is humans hunting them, which I think fits Techno pretty well

The rain is black rain - rain full of radioactive fallout. Bad Stuff, definitely not what you should seek out if you want to keep your body in working order.

I kept referring to sirens in Tubbo’s speech. Just imagine every emergency warning broadcast sound except even more terrifying

So Ranboo’s skin is majorly fucked up. For one, he’s suffered major radiation damage to the side that is now white (healed over brand new skin). The black half is much more interesting though. Did you know there are types of fungi that can feed off of nuclear radiation? They protect themselves from the effects by secreting a LOAD of melanin, making them extremely dark. Anything that wasn’t newly healed on Ranboo had now become akin to those fungi now. Feeding rather than harmed by the nuclear radiation Tubbo naturally puts off. Perfect for a newborn Angel of the deaths.

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Thank you so much for this story submission!! I really love this idea and how well you wrote it! this is so amazing! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

#submission #mcyt g/t exchange event #mcyt #g/t

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unicornprincessinthetardis · 3 years

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Update: I’ve been able to upload Nowhere Boys: the Book of Shadows at last! The link below still works, so now you’ll find all 4 series/seasons plus the movie there. There still aren’t unfortunately highest quality versions of S4, but as I said that’s alright, the versions available are good. And it’s still okay to share these posts and the link.

I had to get the movie from a different source than the episodes, and although it’s still high-quality and mostly HD, there are a couple of places where the quality drops a little or it behaves slightly strangely (fewer since I edited it!). The subtitles for book of shadows are heavily edited by me, colour coded by speaker (or the main/more important characters anyway) and I used non-standard colours to do a colour per speaker, and it might be that this makes them less useful so if this is the case, please let me know and I’ll make a version without colours, or at least with only standard colours. I also don’t know if the colours will even show up, depending on what player you’re using (they only worked for me in vlc player and the embedded player in the subtitle editing programme I used).

(Redo 1 of the Nowhere Boys drive link addition to my last Nowhere Boys post as a separate post in hopes at least one version will find people because the reblog doesn't show up, this one with the link)

If anybody in the Nowhere Boys fandom (or otherwise, it's a good show) hasn't seen some or all of Nowhere Boys and would like to, or has seen it but wants to have the episodes to keep, I now have Series(seasons) 1-4 uploaded to a Google Drive (and I'm working on Book of Shadows/the movie, there's a folder for it but it's not in it yet, it will be when I can get everything sorted with it). Here's the link (hopefully Tumblr won't eat this post):

Nowhere Boys

If this post does get eaten, there will be another post without the link and people will have to message me for it, I guess. Or if there's enough demand I could post it in my bio or something?

Also, if the post doesn't get eaten and people actually see it:

it's okay to reblog this post (and the other versions) if you want/think it will find other fans (or I guess share the link without my post, I'd appreciate if you'd please let me know if you're doing that but obviously I can't make you).

for reasons unknown to me, the video quality of series 4 (apart from episode 1, weirdly, which is as high-quality as series 1-3) is a bit worse than the previous series even at maximum, although still very watchable. If they (by which I mean the BBC because I've got the main series from the iPlayer) do ever post better versions, I'll get them and replace the current ones, but as it is, those are okay and certainly better than nothing/some other sources.

I've included the (English) subtitles with everything, in case anybody else wants them (just .srt files at the moment, although I think I could maybe also get different file versions, like .ttml, if that's wanted/needed for translation/whatever other reason).

I did this for a Twitter groupchat of fans (not very active anymore but if anybody wants to join we'd be happy to welcome you), but I thought it might get to a slightly wider audience here and it wouldn't hurt me to offer it to more people.

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jcmorrigan · 3 years

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Somehow, I can imagine Vinny, Al and Victor ""adopting"" Taylor so...👀

I’m just going to do this one off the top of my head and see what happens

-Taylor was accepted into RMU, but oh no! They don’t have enough money to cover the dorms. Their parents are just “It’s too bad you don’t have any friends in G4 to stay with″ and Taylor realizes...oh no...I have friends in G4.

-They didn’t want to admit how much they actually hoped Revenge House would accept them when they called. Taylor will tell anyone who asks that they called for the sole purpose of getting shot down and ruling this out.

-Vincent: “I see. Well - “ Albert: “YES” Victor: “I’ll fix up the guest bedroom” Vincent: “...I guess you’re staying with us then”

-There are a few house rules. Don’t go in the basement (there are cyborgs in there). Don’t roam the house after curfew (that’s when we let the cyborgs out). Don’t feed Winston (Taylor isn’t sure if this one is a joke or an actual warning).

-Otherwise they get a pretty nice bedroom, soft bed, quality blankets. Not soundproof and they can hear the screams and weird metallic noises from the rooms two floors down, but hey, they won’t complain.

-At first, the guys pretty much leave Taylor to their own devices. That’s the nice thing about them being a legal adult: they don’t actually have to be good or attentive parents

-Victor and Albert are the two who pay them the most attention. Victor actually carries on conversation like a normal person. Well, mostly. He still always kind of sounds like he’s gathering information to use for nefarious purposes, but Taylor’s used to that by now. Also being called “my dear Taylor” was offputting at first but now they see it’s a genuine term of affection.

-Albert is...an interesting guardian. He’s always approaching Taylor to talk about non sequiturs, usually morbid, and Taylor has gotten used to this and kind of enjoys it. “Speaking purely in hypotheticals, what do you think tastes better: the spleen or the lungs?” “Spleen. Why are you even asking me this? That one’s obvious.”

-But weirdly Albert is in exchange the one who actively cares the most for Taylor. He makes sure they’re stocked up on supplies, and by that I mean Taylor enters their designated bathroom to find no fewer than twenty toothbrushes, all different colors, bound with a ribbon and a note that says “Pick your favorite! ~AK”

-Also instead of taking them shopping for new college wardrobe, Taylor is awoken at 6 a.m. by a phone call from Albert. “I’m at Hot Topic and they have an assortment of androgynous leather accessories. What’s your size?”

-Vincent and Taylor don’t interact much, at first. But they develop a relationship based on their lack of relationship. They both enjoy the value of comfortable silence. They can be in the same room doing separate things and know they don’t have to bother with greeting one another outside of a quick nod or 0.2 seconds of eye contact.

-Right away, though, they all make it clear that Taylor gets free food. The trio does their usual routine of making extremely high-quality luxury food and just lets Taylor chill out doing nothing until the dinner bell rings. The catch is that some of these things, they weren’t sure were food before this, but hey, turns out they don’t hate sashimi.

-Classes start. Every day when Taylor gets home and brings their books and assignments of the day to the dining room to study, Albert and Victor flock around them. Albert: “How was school? Did you make any lasting memories? Do you have an ARCHNEMESIS yet?” Victor: “Does Professor Browne still have a stick up his ass, metaphorically speaking? Has anyone of your preferred gender asked you out yet?”

-Until dinner time, the dining room is Taylor’s study sanctuary.

-They know better than to bring friends home, however. Not a single college pal who’s entered Revenge House has left with at all a good feeling. Some of them have considered calling the cops because there’s no way these people aren’t going to murder Taylor in the dead of night (sillies...Taylor’s the one person they WON’T murder in the dead of night)

-And as for dates? Unfortunately, the few times Taylor has been asked out, they’ll keep it secret and arrange a meetup at a neutral location and show up at the restaurant only to, halfway through the date, realize that they can spot distinct flashes of pink, red, and black positioned around the restaurant like the Bermuda Triangle and greeeaaat, their guardians followed them to spy on the date.

-Which isn’t always bad because one time somebody actually tried to take advantage of Taylor in the alley out back of the restaurant and before any articles of clothing could be forcibly removed, the offender practically explodes from the impact of being shot by Victor, punched by Vincent, and stabbed by Albert at the same time (the bullet almost clipped Albert but it was worth it)

-Taylor’s never sure how to introduce these people. Parents? Guardians? Friends? Roommates? Usually, it ends up something like “This is my...this is...this is Vincent. He’s Vincent. That’s it.”

-They go out as a “family” unit sometimes, usually to dinner or something where they can all just have conversation. There’s usually going to be some rando who walks past the guys and goes “Your daughter is adorable!” and Albert pulls out a rather long and wicked knife while saying “Their preferred pronouns are they/them, and I HIGHLY suggest you respect that.” Victor and Vincent glare on in the background.

-Taylor is torn because they like having guardians who respect their gender identity but also some of these people are just making honest mistakes

-Victor: “I just want to warn you that when you engage with other college students, you may be pressured to try smoking, drinking, and other narcotics. In a strange environment, any of these may be laced with poison or spiked with different drugs. Here in Vincent’s mansion, our stashes are always pure, so if there’s anything you want, just ask us and we will get you a safe supply.” (Though “safe cigarettes” and “safe hard liquor” are oxymorons to a 19 y/o but Victor is trying. Taylor doesn’t even want any of those things)

-Sometimes, though........Taylor has to be the parent figure to these three

-They might end up trying to drink away their sorrows, falling asleep in a vomit-covered living room. Taylor will clean up any obvious mess and get them some pillows.

-Taylor: “So, did you ever want to...talk to me any more about the childhood stuff that was bothering you?” Albert: “...Yes”

-One night, though, they make a big breakthrough. They find evidence for the Myers revenge scheme and confront Vincent with it.

-Vincent tells them everything. Not without getting a little emotional.

-Taylor’s just like “Oh.”

-Somehow this turns into a hug.

-The guys FORBID Taylor from getting directly involved with Myers. That said...they do act a consultation role sometimes.

-Eventually they meet some of the basement cyborgs. Also they’ve gotten pretty friendly with the Dream Eaters. If all the guys are out of the house and Winston is doing his usual hermit thing, Taylor will be “babysat” by a group of awkward yet well-meaning monsters. (The Dream Eaters have been instructed to keep the cyborgs from eating Taylor, though, and they’ve had to actually step in several times. The Dream Eaters also like the taste of human flesh but Albert said this one is NOT FOOD so they respect that.)

-Those days when the guys come home dragging a corpse/an unconscious person, and Taylor catches them, and the guys stare at them like deer in headlights until they say “I never saw this. Carry on.”

-At some point, though, Taylor decides they want a little more, so they suggest “Do you guys wanna go to the mall and catch a movie?”

-Cue a mall trip that involves Vincent criticizing all the secondhand clothing, Victor flirting with the cashiers at every boutique, and nobody knows exactly what Albert is up to but there’s blood leaking from the dressing room so let’s not ask.

-They go to see a fall blockbuster that Taylor really enjoys and the three guys are having varying degrees of enjoyment toward. If it’s got deep themes, Vincent will be happy. If it’s got romance, Victor will be happy. If it’s horror, Albert will be happy. If it’s a superhero film, NOBODY BUT TAYLOR IS HAPPY (so they kind of like taking the guys to Marvel stuff to annoy them on purpose)

-They talk the guys into accompanying them on other Taylor-style adventures. Like bowling. Bowling was either the best or the worst idea they had, because it turned into a four-person DEATH MATCH. (Figuratively, this time. Maybe literally next time.)

-Vincent draws a HARD LINE IN THE SAND at pizza, though. He will not even look at a pizza, let alone eat one or enter a pizza establishment.

-After some months, Taylor and Vincent are conversing more, but it’s usually Taylor asking questions about how the legal system works because Vincent can explain it better than anyone else and in a way that doesn’t fly over Taylor’s head.

-Sometimes, though...Taylor gets sick. The first time, they didn’t actually expect any of the guys to do anything about it. But Vincent drops off hot meals without a word and leaves, and rude as he is, the food’s always DELICIOUS and particular faves of Taylor’s. Victor is the “Text me if you need anything, sweetie” guy who will drop everything if Taylor needs an ice pack or a barf bin. Albert will sit in the room at a safe distance to talk to Taylor about random things and make sure they don’t get lonely. Also, Taylor will have weirdly no nightmares whatsoever, and they know Albert has something to do with this.

-Sometimes...Taylor is sad. All three of the guys will sit around them, encouraging them to talk about everything that’s bothersome. Brief hugs will be exchanged (Victor’s are a bit too tight since, y’know, metal arms, but that’s fine by Taylor). And then if there was a particular entity that caused the sadness, well, that entity might end up dead in a pool of blood in a back alley later.

-There’s also a contract on the table stating that if Taylor is ever incarcerated, then Vincent, Victor, and Albert will break them out of jail at the earliest convenience. Taylor isn’t sure when this will ever have to be used but they’re glad it’s there.

-They make an even more amazing meal than usual for Taylor’s birthday and spend way, WAY too much on gifts. Some of which aren’t even things Taylor wanted (”It’s...a baseball bat with barbed wire around it. Uh...just what I always wanted? Thanks, Albert.”)

#vincent edgeworth #victor blake #albert krueger #taylor lee #blakeworther #ask to tag for content #somehow i REBLOGGED this instead of tagging it the first time #i blame tumblr

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turtleduckscribbles · 4 years

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Thank you again for all the delightful birthday wishes!! I hope you've all had a very happy Thursday too. 💕

As a small thanks, take some birthday headcanons for the Links because why not.

Time - It’s neither here nor there for him. Would rather you not make a huge deal of it. He already has everything he could possibly want as it is. A hearty, home-cooked meal would make him happiest. Not big on surprises or large parties, but he won’t hate you for it if you throw him one anyways. Always appreciates a kind gesture, though. The one shining light is that Malon never fails to give him her undivided attention, and that extra time with her is the saving grace of the day for him.

Warrior - Totally down to have a bangin’ good time. A night out on the town? A memorable once-in-a-lifetime activity? Sign him up! Would never say no to something flashy or extravagant. His view is that there’s only a limited amount of them, so why not take the opportunity to celebrate? Give him attention on his special day, and he’ll take a newfound appreciation for you. Always takes the time to remember others’ birthdays just as they remember his. Guaranteed to be secretly bitter if you forget it. Has since learned to appreciate smaller and mellower birthdays in recent years.

Twilight - For the love of Hylia, whatever you do please don’t make a fuss about it. Prefers to keep the day on the down-low. Quiet gatherings with those he loves is the way to go. Can and will turn cherry red if you go out of your way for him. Has a weird thing against opening gifts in front of the gift giver (“it’s just... awkward, okay?”). Not a fan of having an audience for any reason. Doesn’t mind when his close friends wish him a happy day in private, though. Would much rather share a good meal with someone than receive material possessions. May or may not have an existential crisis about how old he’s turning.

Sky - Candles, cakes, gifts, parties—he loves it all! Doesn’t expect anything, but is entirely flattered when things do end up happening (which they totally do, Zelda will make sure of it). The only day of the year he would consider waking up a little early for (minus Zelda’s own). Will be sure to thank you excessively for anything you choose to do for him. Thinks homemade gifts are the bomb dot com. Has a tendency to overindulge in sweet treats. If he had to choose, he’d probably prefer having a lazy day in, but he’ll readily do anything. Absolutely prefers snuggles and spending quality time with his sunshine girl, of course. 💕

Wild - Similar to Twilight in that he shies away from receiving attention on his birthday. However, he would be beyond thrilled to go out and do something fun (“fun” i.e. “wild”). Be careful what you give him, because he will utilize the gift to its full capacity. Doesn’t mind surprises as long as they’re with a smaller group. Constantly drops hints leading up to the day about all the activities he’d love to participate in (“Have you checked out that archery range? or that bridge over the reservoir? It’s supposed to be the perfecting jumping point into the water..”) Heavily emphasizes the importance of good food on birthdays.

Legend - Don’t you dare even THINK about making a big deal of it. Will threaten to pummel you if you start a chorus of “happy birthday.” Very hot and cold about his birthday. Claims to hate it, but would secretly be quite disappointed if nobody remembered it. Would 100% put on a show of exasperation if you gave him a present (especially in public), but would privately be touched by it. Weirdly secretive about revealing his age.

Hyrule - Has a tendency to forget his own birthday. Incredibly easy to shop for, as he finds interest in anything and everything. Finds immense enjoyment blowing out birthday candles. Loves upholding the tradition of making a birthday wish. Will duck under the table if you start singing to him, though. Would absolutely appreciate anything you choose to do for him, but would very much prefer the spotlight wasn’t on him.

Four - Easy to please in that he doesn’t expect anything from anyone. He’s happy if he receives his favorite treat and nothing else. A challenge to shop for if you’re not in possession of his wish list. If you insist on getting him something, he’ll give you said wish list, which is very detailed and includes specialized gadgets and tools that you’ve probably never heard of and would have a hard time tracking down on your own. If you aren’t equipped to handle that, perhaps it’s best if you stuck with baked goods for now.

Wind - Surprisingly nonchalant about it. Perhaps that started when his sister was abducted on his 12th birthday. In any case, he has since grown to enjoy it again. Insists he is too old for parties now, but nothing could be further from the truth. Enjoys being active and seeing the sights on his birthday. Frustratingly picky about what gifts he receives (it drives Grandma crazy), but he’ll ready accept anything—even those hot and itchy hero’s clothes that Grandma gave him years back. Aryll’s gifts take up primary residence in his heart.

#turtle talks #linked universe headcanons #birthdays #tag yourself i'm a bizarre mix of sky and wild

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

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The Mandalorian season 2 ep 1 AGAIN! it’s the rewatch folks

- The entire last season reminder/intro scene is kind of clunky and we’re-hitting-you-over-the-head-with-this, but I think it’s important to note that it’s probably meant for the vast majority of people who watched this stuff once a wholeass year ago, and not for me, the crazy person who watched each episode at least five times lol

I like the way mando & bb walk from darkness into brief light and back into darkness here... the directors keep finding such cool ways of using the armour cinematically, there must be some lighting considerations to be made when your main character is essentially a walking disco ball. I enjoy the mood of this planet too -- the distant lights, the way the sky isn’t quite dark like there’s a city providing some light pollution nearby (it’s a bit clearer as he walks further into the... town? that it’s not just sunset, the sky is lit up weirdly)

also when din moves towards the camera and out of sight in this first appearance, the signet is the very last thing that leaves the frame! I just thought that was sweet, a clan of two :’)

- shotout to these two lads and their boldly absolutely inexplicable hat choices (I love gratuitous star wars crowd scenes you guys)

those tacky gold sequins on her sleeves... immaculate, beautiful, someone sat through like full body makeup application to be on screen a literal split second, that good good sw nonsense

- oh I didn’t notice before but I think those gladiator dudes are using vibroaxes! I guess they have the technology to portray it in live action now after the vibroblades in the first season

- the way bb glances up at din like ‘hey dad. dad what the fuck???’ as one gomorrean nearly chops the arm off the other fjaslfds

- when you look for it it’s comically obvious that those guys are working for the dude mando’s meeting, they’ve all got more or less the same dark uniform and don’t look much at the fight haha. they might as well have ‘hired thugs’ stamped upon their foreheads

- I like how pared down and spare the music is in this fight scene, it’s just the faint whine of the electric guitars under the thuds of meat hitting metal

also still love how din fights, the fact that he doesn’t even try to not get hit a lot of the time, he’s just tanking through it waiting for someone to fling themselves at him in a way he can exploit to take them out

the bouncer seems to be holding something like sci-fi handcuffs when he grabs din and lifts him off his feet, so he probably meant to restrain him quickly. bonus: I didn’t notice it the first time around, but din really went straaaaaiiight for this dude’s gentleman area once he dropped him back on his feet lol (you can even see him taking a split second to orient himself and take aim first fhsdkfhas). good job space cowboy dad, sometimes fighting smart means fighting dirty

- leaving this awful dude hanging upside down to get eaten after employing some very deliberate phrasing so he’s not even breaking his word is the ruthless HEIGHT of mando’s hilarious petty streak and it makes me cackle, gives me life, waters my crops

- oh, the palpable loneliness and longing in din’s voice when he says ‘if I can track down another of my kind’ ;_______; I’m sorry buddy

- may we speak for a moment about the fact that din carries his son around in what seems very much to be a saddle bag sdafjkhsa

- the way din checks in with peli (to see if she’s fucking with him? he’s very confused anyway haha) over the map before saying “I don’t see anything” is so precious. he already seems much more socially tuned in and responsive compared to the beginning of season 1, you love to see it, coming out of that freeze response baBEY

- I can’t get over how much the baby loves speed, this is coming back to bite you so hard if you’re ever going to have to teach this kid how to drive one day mando

- awwww the little patented mando finger curl as he enters the bar <3<3<3 that’s sort of his tell for being preoccupied/anxious; I think finding other mandos, someone to trust and to get help from, means A Lot to him

once he sees the marshall in the armour his shoulders drop down and he stands up straighter :’) hope is a powerful thing (I guess all of this might add even more to how angry he is too)

the DEAD STOP when cobb takes the helmet off sdkfhkajsldhfsdk

- yodito putting his lil mouth on the lip of this jar thing is such a well observed little quirk of baby behaviour, I’m crying

(there is liquid of some sort in this thing; I’ve seen some people theorize it’s a spittoon but for my own peace of mind I’m going to forcefully declare that it is not thank you)

- so much stuff packed into that “He’s seen worse”!! dismissal, self-deprecation, sorrow, resignation, warning.

- the contrast in this standoff of vanth’s eastwood eye twitch and the complete deadpan impassiveness of din’s helmet and general demeanor... wonderful

- upon rewatching I’m actually wondering if some of these scenes with the baby on his own were filmed independently of the actors and that it might add to that slight distracting feeling of disconnect/distance you get through the episode. (it’s sort of odd to me that mando doesn’t even glance down at him as the whole place starts to shake, for example) there must be a lot of stuff that comes down to technical considerations with the baby; I suspect it takes a lot of time and resources to have him walking around too much, which is why The Waddle is kind of a rare treat

what I’m saying is that they may be saving up dad & baby interaction resources for episodes where it’s more relevant or important

- so is this a one bantha town or is it just for convenient film language reasons it was all alone in frame like that lol

also cobb’s ‘mondays amirite’ look fdsakjfhsjk

- since I think it every time I get to this part: this is a very neat hairstyle this person is rocking, suits them!

- ah the stern pointer finger of emphasis. din TALKS, no, COMMUNICATES so much in this episode you guys!!!!!

- rip this tusken, the bravest person who ever lived

- the delivery of “...they might be open to some fresh ideas” is the funniest moment of this entire episode don’t @ me

- oh the kotor-ness of it all lol

- jill (the girl who hands cobb the detonator) is so cute with her hat and everything ;____;

- I suppose these tuskens are really the bravest people to ever live considering they saw what happened to the last guy (or gal I suppose I don’t know how sand people gender works)

- baby needs some goggles to protect his giant eyes from wind and sand Y___Y

- they’ve nailed how to make the jetpacks work in live action, it looks really cool and I suspect it easily could have uh. not

- this poor sacrificial bantha... it even tried to get away

- ooooh the heart eyes -- cobb 100% has a crush on this man jfsdflhsad. (with it being sort of unrequited/’oh man I’m behind about 150 layers of dissociation too many to even really consider that one way or the other bud’ from mando’s side #personal headcanon disclaimer)

- my take on why din doesn’t get dissolved in acid in there is that that stuff is released from a specific gland or something that the dragon can unleash at will and that the spit itself doesn’t have that quality on its own (or at least it’s a lot less potent)

- seems pretty well confirmed by now that yodito is a carnivore huh hahaha

- I find it obscurely satisfying that cobb seems to be wearing exactly his old outfit under the armour -- he did just strap it on on top of what he already was. (there’s something there -- he’s a whole thing still without the armour, and at this time at least din would not be I don’t think) just some good narrative foil stuff going on here under the surface

also once again props to the costume design; without the armour he looks so vulnerable again, they have dressed him to emphasise his height and slenderness (especially compared to mando, who actually seems to have bulked up a bit? fatherhood suits him I guess)

plus, the way the baby looks questioningly up at din while he watches cobb walk away? yeah, din is lonely, let this poor man have a friend who stays around soon T______________T

- heeey boba, nice threads! my guess is that he’s not going to be there for the armour if he does track din down, since he hasn’t seemed to be in any haste to get it back before (which is interesting!). he might also have been unable to go looking for it before because he was still recovering from being half digested, of course, they could play it a lot of different ways

I wonder if we’ll get more of him in the next ep or if they’ll let the tension ramp up through the season

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian meta #the mandalorian spoilers #just to be safe hey

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glorious-spoon · 4 years

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When the Seasons Stop [Leverage/The Old Guard]

Title: When the Seasons Stop Fandom: Leverage; The Old Guard Pairings: Gen-ish or pre-relationship Eliot/Hardison/Parker Warnings: Temporary character death, canon-typical violence Other tags: Hurt/comfort, immortality Summary: Eliot Spencer damn well knew better than to get this close to a couple of mortals. But he never expected this.

There’s nothing new about the bullet punching through Eliot’s lung, nicking an artery and shattering a rib on its way out. He can feel the world start to squeeze and fold in a familiar way, but that’s not what worries him. What worries him is the gasping quality of Parker’s voice over the comms, the shaky way she said he’s all smashed up inside and the trail of blood zig-zagging out to the van.

Sophie’s hands grasp at him, pulling him in. Her eyes are huge and dark with tears, and Eliot can’t get the lung capacity to reassure her. Isn’t sure there’s anything worth reassuring at all when blood is soaking into the floor (Hardison will be so mad, he thinks stupidly, but it’s Hardison’s blood, his and Parker’s, and they’re sprawled there like broken toys as the van peels away into the street. There are sirens. Nate is swearing fluently and foully in the front as Sophie heaves herself through to drop into the seat beside him).

None of it fucking matters. Eliot’s vision is starting to tunnel, but he can still see Hardison gasping with blood on his lips.

“Did Eliot make it out?”

“Age of the geek, brother,” Eliot rasps, grasping for him, fumbling, fingers slick with blood. Hardison’s long fingers twitch weakly when he grips them. On his other side, Parker’s cold hand slips into his. She’s tilted back against the wall, her shirt stained with dark blood, soaking through to pool beneath her, and she’s already so cold.

She’s bleeding out, Eliot thinks vaguely, but his body is too leaden and heavy to do anything about it. His thoughts fragment into the thickening darkness, and the last thing he remembers is hoping against desperate hope that this time, this time, he won’t wake up to see the aftermath.

He comes to choking in silty water, flailing, splashing. Sinks into the dark and maybe drowns a second time before he finally surfaces. His head hits metal, and he gasps in the small pocket of air beneath it, his mind becoming aware bit by horrible bit. He’s died in a lot of bad ways since he took a bullet to the heart in the winter of 1861 and woke hours later face-down and stripped of his guns and boots in the cold Nebraska mud. But this one might just be the worst of them.

It’s too dark to see, but he fumbles until his hands close over a bony wrist, cloth and cold skin. Hardison’s, by the size. And there’s Parker floating to his left, her hair spreading out in the water and tangling around his wrist when he pulls her to him, puts a hand under her nose like he really thinks he’ll feel breathing.

Like there’s more than half a dozen people in the world who could wake up from this.

“Parker,” he rasps. His throat feels raw, and he tells himself that it’s the leftovers from breathing in river water. “Parker. Hardison. Come on. Come on.”

There’s no response. They’re cold and limp, floating lifelessly in the icy water, and Eliot can’t pretend that the heat welling up in his eyes is anything other than tears.

“Come on,” he rasps again. “Come on, Parker. Damn it, Hardison, wake up.”

There’s nothing. Just bodies, just Parker’s hair tangled around his fingers and Hardison’s expressive hands gone terribly still. Eliot drives his fist into the side of the van and feels his knuckles break and heal in an instant, and then he ducks beneath the water to check for the front of the van.

It’s empty, and he hopes with a dull, flickering sort of hope that Nate and Sophie at least got out alive. Then he goes back to pull the floating corpses of his dearest friends out through the shattered window, one after another. He loops his arms around them like this is a rescue instead of a recovery and kicks until his head breaks the swift surface of the river.

The water is deep and fast here, and it’s not easy to keep his head above it without letting go of either of his burdens, which he damn well is not going to do. He manages, at the very least, not to drown again before his feet finally find the soft mud in the shallows.

He pulls them both to the shore, scrabbling in the silty mud until they’re above the water line, and then he sinks to the ground and puts his head in his hands. Tries to breathe. Tries not to breathe, maybe, since that’s never been his problem. It doesn’t work, either way. His chest hurts like he can still feel the lingering ache of that bullet from a hundred and fifty-some years ago, but he knows it’s not that. Knows that it’s nothing more than simple grief.

He knows better, is the thing. He knows better than to get too attached. He always knew that his life would encompass both Parker’s and Hardison’s by years, centuries (millennia, if Andy is to be believed, and Eliot believes her because he’s never met another person so fucking tired of it all), but he just. He thought he’d have more time. He thought he’d get to dance at their wedding. He thought he’d get to watch Parker take over the reins from Nate and make Leverage into something lasting and real; he thought he’d get to watch Hardison going on about new computer shit for decades to come, going gray and bent and still leaning over his screens with that brilliant joy. He thought he’d get to welcome their children and watch them grow.

He thought that maybe, someday, he’d trust them both with his secret.

He thought he had more fucking time.

Something shifts to his left. Eliot lifts his head listlessly. If it’s cops, he’ll go into custody quietly. If it’s someone looking for trouble, maybe he’ll just let them kill him. Either way, he doesn’t have it in him right now to fight.

It’s neither of those things, though. Instead, Hardison’s body seizes, jerks, and then heaves upright like it’s spring-loaded. He’s hacking and coughing, vomiting murky water, his eyes so wide and wild that Eliot can see the whites all the way around. His hands dig into the mud, then lift to claw at his grimy, bloody shirt.

Cloth parts. Beneath it is bare skin, smooth and completely undamaged. No sign of the shattered bone and pulpy bruising that should be there. Hardison pats at himself frantically and finally lifts his head to meet Eliot’s eyes.

“Eliot,” he says, weak and rasping. “We—I thought—”

“Hardison,” Eliot breathes, and for a wild instant he has no idea what to think. Hardison was dead, he was dead, Eliot’s seen more dead bodies than he can count and he knows what they look like. What they feel like. Hardison was dead. Which means...

“Parker,” Hardison gasps, and then, “Parker, where’s Parker,” and before Eliot can even think to speak there’s gasping on the other side of him and Parker’s thready voice saying first Hardison’s name and then Eliot’s.

Eliot drops his head into his hands and laughs until he cries.

It takes a while to explain it. Or, to be more accurate: it takes a while to get to the closest safehouse that they can be reasonably sure isn’t compromised, which turns out to be one of Parker’s warehouses. She’s got A/C set up somehow, and clothes for both of them—Eliot recognizes the t-shirt she tosses him as one that went missing in the move to Portland all those months ago—and has even rigged up something that could generously be termed shower facilities.

“I thought you didn’t keep any of these anymore,” Hardison mumbles as she steers him to the sprayer that’s zip-tied to a pipe over a wide, shallow trough. The whole thing is brutally utilitarian in a very Parker kind of way.

“You never know when you might need to go to ground. Always be prepared.”

A ragged laugh escapes Hardison’s lips. “Boy Scouts. Cool, cool.”

Parker is busy unbuttoning his shirt; she pulls that off and starts on his pants. Hardison doesn’t squawk any objections about his modesty, which just goes to show how deeply shaken he is; Eliot turns away anyway as both their clothes hit the floor and the water sputters on. He can wait his turn. He once hiked thirty miles on the trail of horse thieves with the remnants of his own guts decorating his clothes; this isn’t even close to the most disgusting he’s ever been.

“Eliot,” Parker says firmly, and he lifts his head. They’re both naked, and he can’t quite stop himself from staring at all that smooth undamaged skin laid bare. Parker’s right shoulder is caked with blood that’s washed her entire side with red, but there’s no bullet-hole now. Beside her, Hardison is steady on his feet, standing easily on a leg that was shattered an hour ago.

They’re both alive.

Eliot blinks, then jerks his head to the side a moment too late. “Go ahead. I can wait.”

“Or you could just come here,” Hardison says, with a raw edge of humor. “You look like a drowned rat.”

“Thanks a lot,” Eliot huffs. He considers trying to argue, then finds abruptly that he doesn’t have the energy. He kicks off his boots and starts pulling his clothes off, leaving them in a stinking bloody heap on the floor. Parker and Hardison both watch him in a way that makes him feel weirdly exposed. It’s not prurient, not really. He has a feeling that they’re looking at his naked body the same way he was just looking at theirs. Cataloguing the injuries that should be there, and aren’t.

Drawing some conclusions, maybe, about all of the beatings that he’s walked away from without a limp in the time they’ve known each other.

“You got some explaining to do,” Hardison says, almost apologetically, as he draws Eliot into the tub with them. He keeps a firm grip on Eliot’s elbow like he’s expecting him to bolt, which to be fair isn’t completely outside the realm of possibility. Eliot has imagined stepping into a shower with the two of them more times than he can count, but this particular scenario never featured in his daydreams.

“Yeah,” Eliot admits, closing his eyes. The spray washes over him, rinsing away the blood and river mud, but the panic—that terrible bleak echo of grief—that lingers. “I will. I promise.”

While Parker and Hardison are getting dressed, he takes one of Parker’s burner phones and goes out behind the building to call Andy.

“I have the new ones,” he says without preamble when she picks up. He knows that she knows what he’s talking about. They’ll have dreamed this, the four of them.

There’s a long pause, and then Andy says, “Good. We’re in Afghanistan. Do you need us there?”

He can hear voices in the distance. It’s impossible to make out the words over the shitty international connection, but even so he recognizes Joe’s laughing cadence. He’s heckling someone; Booker, probably. Nicky has to be there too.

Eliot misses them all so much that it aches. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Nah. I can take care of it.”

“You know them,” Andy says. “Don’t you.”

It’s not really a question.

“Yeah,” Eliot says on a breath of laughter, all the same. “Yeah, you sure could say that.”

There’s a hell of a lot that Andy could say in response, especially after the way everything went down with Eliot and Moreau ten years back, but all she does say, after a slight pause, is, “Well, good. That’ll make it simpler. You can explain about the dreams, but we’ll be in the States by the end of the week.”

Eliot laughs again, more genuinely. “Yeah, okay. It’s— It’ll be good to see you all. I miss you.”

“We miss you too,” Andy says, very gently, and ends the call before Eliot has to find a way to do it.

When he gets back inside, Parker and Hardison are dressed and sitting at the folding table. Both of them lift their heads as he approaches.

“Where’d you go?” Hardison asks.

“Had to call a friend.” Eliot makes a face. The time for prevarication is over, but that doesn’t mean he has a damn clue how to explain this. Until right now, he’s been the baby of the gang. “Andy, her name is Andy. She’s another one. Like us.”

“Like us, like us, okay,” Hardison says. “What—what does that mean, exactly? We—you got shot. Parker got shot. I had a broken leg. We all—” He shakes his head. “What happened?”

Eliot takes a breath, opens his mouth, closes it again. Finally, bluntly, he says, “You died. We all did.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Hardison says. There’s an uncharacteristic snap to his voice. He sounds genuinely angry for the first time. Scared, too. He sounds scared. Eliot wishes like hell there was anything at all he could do to fix that, but all he has to offer is the truth.

He sighs and says, to Parker, “You got a knife?”

She reaches back without breaking her eerily intent gaze to scoop a switchblade off the table and toss it to him. Eliot plucks it out of the air and opens it, then takes a deep breath, spreads his left hand out, and drives the blade into it until the point emerges from his palm. Blood dribbles onto the floor; Hardison jolts forward with a horrified noise.

Parker is still just watching him, cool-eyed and assessing. He pulls the blade out and holds up his hand so that they can watch the hole he just made heal in seconds.

“Oh shit,” Hardison says faintly. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Parker stares at him a moment longer, then holds out her hand. “Can I do that?”

“It’ll still hurt,” Eliot warns her, but he hands the knife back. She cleans it carelessly on a shop rag, then tests the edge of it thoughtfully.

Hardison rubs a hand over his mouth, then says, carefully, “Babe, please don’t stab yourself. I can’t watch that twice in a row.”

“It would heal, though.” She looks up and fixes Eliot with a burning look. “Right?”

Eliot sighs. “Right.”

She nods slowly. “That wasn’t the first time you died. Was it.”

“Not by a long shot.”

Hardison looks up at that, eyes narrowed. “When was the first time?”

“1861,” Eliot sighs. “I was guarding a mail coach in the Nebraska Territory, and we were attacked, and...”

“Eighteen—eighteen sixty-one. Okay.”

“Sorry.”

“For being old as balls?”

It startles a laugh out of him. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And there’s more of you.” Hardison pauses. “Of us.”

“Yeah. Four—” He pauses, winces. Thinks of Quynh, drowning and drowning under the ocean. Her deaths have been in his dreams for well over a hundred years. She’s been a constant companion, even if he’s never met her and probably never will. “Five more.”

“Are they older than you, or younger?”

“Older. Lots older.”

“So what you’re saying, basically,” Hardison says, “is that we’re immortal.”

“Yeah,” Eliot says dryly, “that was the general gist of it.”

Parker is starting to smile, wild in a way that’s almost inhuman. “Oh, I’m going to jump off the Sears Tower without a harness.”

“Babe,” Hardison says again, but he sounds distracted as he pulls a tablet toward him.

“You’ll still die,” Eliot tells her.

“Yeah,” she says dismissively, “but I’ll come back. Right?”

“Please don’t jump off the Sears Tower,” Hardison says absently. He chews on his lower lip as he does something on the tablet, shifting lights on the screen reflecting in his eyes. “Okay. Good news, Nate and Sophie are okay. Bad news, Sophie is in the hospital and Nate’s been taken into custody in Highpoint Tower.” He looks up and meets Eliot’s eyes, expression challenging. “We need to get him out.”

Eliot nods, relieved. “Yeah. We do.”

Hardison nods too. He looks a little easier now—with a task at hand, with proof that the others are still alive, with the knowledge that he’s still him, Eliot doesn’t know. “Okay. That’s what we’ll do. And when we’re done we’re gonna come back here and you’re gonna answer all of our questions. Right?”

Eliot considers that moment on the river bank when he thought they both were dead. He considers the interrogation Hardison is going to subject him to, and the batshit insane stunts that Parker is going to pull, and he feels himself smiling, broad and helpless. “Anything you want.”

#leverage #the old guard #my fic #blood and gore #??#i guess

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papers4me · 4 years

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Fruits Basket, SE02, Ep24

This is a buildup ep for the finale. looks like furuba’s tradition for awkward buildup eps continues as this ep is clearly divided into two parts: machi & zodiac banquet.

-Killing the Vibe (furuba style):

Usually when writers buildup an emotional moment, they either go with it right away or if it is not its time, they slowly dissolve it or gradually redirect the story somewhere else. But the most important thing is that you hold on to the feeling they worked so hard to build but know that it will be dealt with later. Usually this is done with minor visuals such as quick flashback to the main event & the character taking deep breath ignoring it. But it is acknowledged that now it is not the time. Furuba doesn’t do that. If they build high moment & decide it is not the time to continue with it, they drop it abruptly, using the ending ost as a closing sign....which is odd cuz this is not episodic eps but continuing plot. They did it twice now: (a) tohru’s nightmare ep 19. it was treated as cliffhanger, but the next, we opened with yuki’s narrative where we see tohru normal. I know tohru’s issues will be dealt with later, perhaps season 3. But the nightmare moment was left hanging weirdly!! we never saw tohru deciding not to focus on it or anything! then (b) the kyo/tohru moment on stage & the symbolic tearing image ep23. Big moment which I know will be focused on later. But it is so freakin odd that we see them so normal in their daily activities..as if nothing happened. Not a slight visual hint that either one is troubled... I praised how in ep, 23, they showed tohru face worrying abt bits & pieces here & there. These visual hints connects the plot.. For a moment I thought Cinderella play is a filler!! but I don’t think so, since 3 major things happened (Tohru’s near confession, machi’s opinion of yuki, arisa’s recorded outburst) two of which dealt with this ep. I know they want the focus to be on yuki, seeing that his plotline is moving smoothly without awkward breaks, but why not smooth out the other’s plotline with minor visuals without the jarring jumps. Ending ost is not automatic shifts in continued plot. Oh well, it is a minor thing I felt, no big deal.

-Machi pov is here!:

I never expected to see machi today! nice surprise! So machi is not only lonely, she lives alone! that’s odd & tragic! how can a junior high school student live alone? since when was she living alone? & her mom calling to check on her or insult her or scold her! I never wanted a phone call to end this fast. Machi’s monologue was amazingly done. Rather than describing her feelings to us or stating what we are already seeing, the words came cold.. automatic.. slow.. without much emotions. Exactly imitating how machi feels abt herself. DULL. She never thought abt things such as fave color or fave place. never thought abt anything that requires personality or preferences. The imagery they used while she was walking in the street is epic! It explained her mentality! honestly even if she said nothing around that time while she was walking, the image would’ve done enough! Machi was able to see the change in yuki cuz she was able to sense that yuki too was dull/boring or felt he felt so. Now he laughs, jokes, interacts, & joins outside school activities. Negating the dull persona. Now, it is only her. machi questions if she can do the same but her question comes out loaded with her negativity. Instead of can I do the same? it is “ why Am i here? Her bad habits are pulling her back & resisting the change.

- Since they’re deciding to embark into the romantic aspect of mach/yuki & to further add contrast to his interaction with tohru, machi is shown so struck by yuki’s presence, she falls. Typical romantic moment that I appreciate for machi who thinks she isn’t typical girl. but dull girl. Yuki finding the leaf & being happy that she treasures it adds to his self-esteem as it tells him that he is worthy to be treasured. I love machi’s indecisive responses! It gives her personality! as she is reluctant between denying or telling the truth. She was never in such situation, so she doesn’t know what to do!! blushing red like her leaf, machi didn’t only go with friends, she also learned her fave color! yuki, developing the future boyfriend detective sense like kyo, guessed it that machi likes red. You remember things abt ppl you find interesting! Machi felt that perhaps to yuki she is not dull, but interesting enough to want to learn things abt her!

-Tohru is a grown woman!!!

trust me to take 5sec interaction that involves my girl & write a deep analytic paragraph! Call it building sandcastles out of nothing but I don’t care! XD. tohru deserves some spotlight! I’m a bit disappointed that the scene is shown form a far to include yuki & shiggure..(WHY???. They can have their moment later! let my girl have a screenshot for a change!!) & the art quality is the lowest in the ep, lol & but whatever~~~ let’s focus on the positive side! my tohru bought sth for herself!! tohru who spent her hard earned money on buying candy ingredients for the filthy rich sohma’s instead of paying her tuition fees?!! tohru who wore a worn out swimsuit for school & didn’t see the value in buying new one ?! tohru whose school bag have seen better days as hiro said?!! tohru bough herself a scarf with pompom!!& she’s PROUD!! & she goes & shows kyo!!!! cuz she loves him & cuz in SE01 he was mad she doesn't buy herself stuff & cuz she knows he’ll be proud of her & cuz she want show off her cuteness & get his attention & cuz she wanna tease him!! Did you see my girl deliberately hit him with the pompom??? my girl is feisty!! She teases!! Tohru has this feisty, forward personality that she hides but peeks in certain instances!! Like when she teased kyo that he’s still scared of the stain on the wall..like when she calls him cute later this ep!! I’m so happy for every tiny teeny moment of tohru where she is herself & not the worrying mom or friend, when she is focused abt what she shows & what she wants & right now she wants kyo to notice her! GIRL HE ALREADY DOES! you are killing him already tohru..he’d be dead by now if he wasn’t a cat with 9 souls! XD.

-Yuki is leaving Akito’s side:

coming to the big moment in this ep. Akito is loosing yuki. Not only yuki decided by himself to attend the banquet that he avoided last year, he also talked to akito & forgave him for everything before. Yuki is letting go of the past. Forgiveness is a cure ppl! it’s the hardest achieved cure. it cuts the ties to negativity & free the person from the painful feelings. Akito knows she’ll be loosing a zodiac member soon! she reacts the same way she did with hatori! violently resisting change, violently making a statement that I’m the ruler of you. However, unlike when it was hatori, no one came to her. Kureno stopped her. but the rest went to yuki, to the rebel, to the one who caused her pain & rage. Akito is not only loosing yuki...she is slowly loosing all of them.

- Yuki continues the next step in his growth & frees hatori from his sins. By allowing himself to accept that he is not a helpless victim, yuki was able to see the others plain as well. Before, in his mind, he was the only one suffering, others are cruel, but now, he sees the criminal who erased his friends memories was also suffering all along. Perhaps yuki thinks that akito is suffering too? That’s why chose to forgive her & tell her that I don’t hate you anymore or hold grudge.

Side Notes:

I’m so glad kakeru had so little to do with machi & yuki interaction here. He is a character that demands spotlight & if his role was bigger, machi would disappear, it will be another yuki/kakeru moment. Also, since machi/kakeru parallel aya/yuki, you bet kakeru will be more involved between them in order to get closer to his sister & fix the gap like aya did, so I appreciate the moment of only yuki/machi now as it is unique moment without any parallels involved.

After learning of Shigure’s correct line, I can now see how things would’ve been better for akito, if she learned from yuki’s rebellion. loosing one is less painful than loosing them all, which she will. Shigure was eager for her to be spared the pain. or he might be eager for sth else entirely! but he wants this to end.

Shigure sure wasn’t himself this ep! he was restless & his jokes were all over the place, he nearly caused a misunderstanding between hatori & Mayko. I think shigure is hearing the curse breaking!!!!!

Rin & kyo!!!! I never knew I needed this!!! like last ep, I was celebrating hana & kyo, & the return of kyo & haru!! but rin & kyo is unique duo since it is not a teasing dynamics! it is a we-are-too-similar dynamics! XD

Kazuma is luv!! ugh!! my heart! what a man!! so caring & kind & ever so gentle! look at him going to rin to invite her! no kid should be alone in new years! look at him teasing his son!! look at him out polite tohru! just look at him!!!

I appreciate that the boys (kyo,yuki.haru,momiji) have different body types from each other. however, since kyo’s body changing is mentioned in the story many times, they focused on showing him growing since the 2nd ep of season 2 & more so in the beach arc & they steadily continued ever since!!! this ep, even with the low quality they showed his Adam’s apple & he is taller next to shishio. Also his baggy clothes help defy the lanky art style. With yuki, since his beauty is mentioned in the story, they’ve been focused on his face, giving him HD quality beauty all the time, but not much when it comes to his body. but today, he looked a lil bit older in machi’s scene? I duno if it is the new clothes or they’re finally allowing his body to grow?! I hope so. They are still making him so lanky as his legs were only a bit meatier than machi’s in the fight scene, but hey lankiness is the show’s art style, just look at hatori </3. They focused on making Momiji baby as it is mentioned in the story that he doesn’t look like a highschooler at all, but I swear he looks a bit older this ep!! right???

Speaking of hatori, hello there~ doc~ I never knew I needed hatori in Japanese clothes this much! It hid the lankiness & gave him the adult manly look he deserves!! so hot!!! I heard his grunt in my heart as he took his clothes off! XD. Soyou’re attached to the school sensie now~~ a lit bit worried your filthy buddy is putting hands on her..huh? oh!, if only you knew that your goofy pal is the master mind behind your new love story! I think he knows tho~

I never expected machi to be that cute!!! machi/yuki is so cute!

Rin sleeps sitting...like a horse? rin didn’t feel haru? i thought horses are as jumpy as cats! lol

Tohru & kyo are having quality flirting time with no interference from either shigure or yuki. lol.. shishio is amazing! XD

Kureno has the DVD now..let the war begins!!!

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #SE02 #hungry paper

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hortensemitchell · 3 years

Text

Just Us

In the quiet of the night James finally has the time to reflect on his very first night in Hollywood. Under the pressure of his own thoughts, he'll find that he is never alone.

Rating: G

Pairing: N/A.

Words: 1868

The bedroom was dimly lit by the street lights peeking through the cracked and broken pieces of the blinds, illuminating the dingy carpet and dull paint of the walls. Virtually every space of the room was lined with miscellaneous boxes with messy scrawl, ‘summer clothes’, ‘electronics’, ‘hair products’. James made a mental note to dig into that box first when morning finally hit.

Whether the boys realized it or not, his regimen was more crucial now than ever. He thought back to the events earlier today and the impossibly beautiful up and coming stars that lounged around the Palm Woods. What made him special back home, his dazzling smile, piercing eyes and washboard abs, it was all part of the everyday here in California.

And if everything he worked so hard for was mundane here, what did that make him? He rolled over in his bed, tugging the comforter tighter around his shoulders almost as if the blanket would protect him from the frantic thoughts plaguing him.

Nothing about him was average, he refused to believe that. He can remember as far back as when he and the other boys were just starting as members of the junior hockey league, that he had also had his mind set on performing. Back then he had to beg and plead his mother for permission for singing and dance lessons. She argued that his schedule was already too full and his education would fall to the wayside, but after countless carefully constructed presentations on the benefits of these lessons and promises that Logan would tutor him, she relented.

He remembered how the boys used to tease him about the lessons when they were younger, jokes and jabs at their regular Friday night sleepovers at Carlos’. James knew they never meant any of it though because on the evening of his very first talent show, he peeped out of the curtain to see them sitting in the front row with the widest grins imaginable.

It was that night that he had finally decided this was his calling. Just seven years old, singing John Mayer and dazzling the crowd like he was born to. He lived off the high long after the song was finished and the curtains had fallen shut.

When he finally made his way back to everyone, the boys descended on him, each talking over the other in so much excitement about how cool he was and how he should have won over the unicycling juggler. His mother hadn’t been able to make the performance, a last minute work emergency she claimed. He didn’t let that get to him though, enjoying the good natured hair ruffling of Papi Garcia, the boys' unabating chattering, and Mama Knight’s promises of pizza. Even then he knew there would be other performances, and he would be so good that she couldn’t miss them.

And he did get better, way better. But was it enough? He could carry a tune, dance any routine that was thrown his way, but could he gain the type of fire that Gustavo was looking for? Failing wasn’t an option, if he turned back to Minnesota his mother would have him on the fast track to business school and this dream would be gone. Failure wasn’t an option, he couldn’t fail, he had to-.

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of cold air against his back as the comforter was pulled up and over someone slipping into the bed beside him. Carlos. James didn’t make any move to turn around and face him in the cramped twin bed and chose to stare at the light of the hallway creeping in from under the doorway. He had almost drifted to sleep from listening to the soft breathing from the other boy when Carlos broke the silence.

“I could hear you thinking from over there.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Did you wanna talk about it?”

The last thing he wanted to do was bring all of this worry onto someone else, so James did what he did best, deflected. Rolling over in the bed careful not to knock Carlos to the floor, James sat up and faced the other boy.

“So we might have striked out against the Jennifers, but I doubt they can resist my charms for long. I’ve already come up with a three step plan that will have them dying for a chance to date any member of our band.”

“James-”

“Though side note, we really need to come up with a name and soon. It seriously hurts your cred to say you’re in a band without a name and-”

“Look I-”

James just continued to press on hoping Carlos would get the hint to drop it, “Maybe if we learn some instruments, we could get in on that gig that that guitar dude seems to have going on at the pool, I mean chicks dig musicians.”

Carlos pulled himself into a sitting position beside James, raising his hand up to signal him to stop.

“It’s okay James, I’m scared too.”

And that was not exactly what James expected to hear.

“You don’t get scared. Just last week I watched you ride your mountain bike off of the top of Kendall’s house into their above ground pool. And let’s not forget the time you took one for the team and took Jenny Tinkler to homecoming.” He shuddered at the memory of her knocking over the snack table and somehow setting the DJ equipment on fire. “It’s hard to believe you’d get scared about anything.”

There’s a moment of silence between them before Carlos replies, “This is kinda different, ya know? Reckless behavior and wacky shenanigans? I can handle that no problem, but this is serious. And I’ve never been that great at serious.” He scratches his neck nervously, and looks off to the side. “I don’t want to ruin your dream dude.”

“You wouldn’t and you can’t.” He stretched his arm around the other boy’s shoulders, pulling him gently to his side. “It’s because of you guys that I even got the opportunity to be here, my dream wouldn’t work without everyone.”

He felt Carlos shake with laughter slightly before he replied, “Well technically we’re here because of Kendall, but I’ll take the sentiment cause it's a weirdly emotional night.”

James just rolled his eyes, though thankful that Carlos pulled them back from all the emotion talk. He wasn’t wrong, Kendall was the driving force of all this. He had the ‘fire’ as Gustavo called it. He would just describe it as stubbornness and a sheer lack of respect for authority, but somehow Kendall made those qualities seem endearing.

The door to the room creaked open bathing Carlos and James in the hallway light, the pair both shielding their eyes to adjust to the change in brightness. Just as quickly as it was opened, it shut again, quietly as to not wake up the other people in the apartment. Even after being partially blinded James knew that Kendall and Logan were approaching the bed, he’d know them anywhere.

“Any chance you have room for two more?” Kendall asked, already pulling himself onto the bed. The springs under it groaned as he and Logan shifted to get comfortable facing James and Carlos at the foot of the bed. For a moment James wondered just how much the weight limit was for this rickety bed frame.

“You guys couldn’t sleep either?” James questioned as he and Carlos pulled the comforter over the other two boys' legs.

“It isn’t actually that weird that we all can’t sleep. Scientists believe that this is just our brains natural instinct to protect itself in a new environment full of unforeseen threats. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it.” He glanced around at the other boys on the bed taking note of the way James was holding one of his pillows tightly to his chest, and Carlos was picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “Something tells me though, that we are all awake because of more than first night jitters.”

There was something a little comforting to James, that all of them were nervous about the future. Sometimes he forgot that even though Kendall was their fearless leader, Carlos was their wrecking ball with a heart of gold, and Logan was their resident genius, they were all still four hockey heads from Minnesota and completely out of their comfort zone.

From across the bed James saw Kendall straighten his posture and he knew immediately that they were in for one of his famous pep talks.

“So what if everyone here is a better singer or dancer than we are. And who cares if every person we come across is more attractive and talented. And who-”

James quickly introjected, “Is this going to get positive anytime soon?”

“I was getting to that.” Kendall replied with a roll of his eyes, “My point is there are always going to be people who are better than we are. It’s a given, but we all have something that everyone here doesn’t.”

“Lightning Fever Barracuda hair gel.”, “Mama Knight’s signature corn dog recipe.” “A death wish.”

“No. What I was getting at is look around. Even out of our depth, we still have each other. The stakes might be higher for sure, but we are still together setting out our game plans dog piled into one bed just like when we were kids. And I don’t know about you, but I think that is a hell of an advantage over anyone in Hollywood.”

And that is why he’s the leader James concluded. Some heartfelt words and an earnest smile, and Kendall could convince them they could do anything. It seemed silly to him that he had been so worried earlier in the night. Looking around at the other boys in the dim moonlight, he realized that he wasn’t in this alone. And even if this didn’t work out, he knows there are three people who would never let him feel like a failure.

“Well since I doubt any of us will feel like sleeping anytime soon, does anyone have some band name ideas? I’m thinking something like James and the Diamonds.”

He saw the good natured eye rolls from across the bed and felt Carlos groan from his spot under James arm. It felt good to get back to normal and he eagerly slipped into their own routine, bickering about what really qualified as a solid band name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, please can I wake them up? One smack of the pot that’s all.”

In the morning light, Mama Knight stood in the doorway observing the scene before her. She had gone to Logan and Kendall’s room first, but when the room was empty she had a feeling this is where they would be.

All four boys were tucked under the comforter of the twin sized bed, practically asleep sitting up. She smiled softly to herself, noting that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

She shook her head, gently leading Katie from the room, “Let them sleep a little while longer, they have a long road ahead of them.”

#my writing #James Diamond #Carlos Garcia #Kendall Knight #Logan Mitchell

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