#its crazy how i used to be so infested in this show in like middle school to the point of crying cuz flaky died and then i didnt go to clas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haley770 · 3 months

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glue me by los campesinos! is my favorite song(by my favorite band) ever and it is so so wilmon. literally everything about this song is perfect and beautiful. the lyrics represent wilmon and young royals so much. so lets go through it, shall we?

just a little note: almost nothing about this is in any order of the show(it is in order of the lyrics), basically just what scenes/things i am reminded of by some of the lyrics because so much of it lines up with this amazing show [:

youtube

/this song begins with such an amazing line, "the clouds salivating, drooling from the sky at the thought of the trouble to wreck" it is raining. water is such a big component as a metaphor in this show to represent everyones feelings. (thank you @tvmicroscope i love your analysis') its also just such a beautiful way to describe the rain as well, the clouds salivating, oh my god (!!! WTFF thats AMAZING I LOVE IT). and then it continues, "and its high tide, as the sewers rise and the drains have become obsolete" it is flooding. both of these just make me think of how it was raining on wilhelm in the soccer/football field scene. when he was soo fucking high and confused and overwhelmed, his brain was being flooded by so many feelings and emotions. probably conflicting each other. wilhelms entire life as he knew it is falling apart, he lost his brother, his best and only friend. he blames himself. he feels guilty. he is burdened with the title of the crown prince, which is the last thing that wilhelm wants. and most importantly(to him at least) he had to reject the love of his life because the crown prince cannot be gay like that. he felt like he was drowning in all of these emotions. he couldnt handle it, "i cant do this anymore", earlier in this same episode when he yet again rejected simon. but still, he goes on and makes the most amazing(and somewhat embarassing) love confession to simon because that is what he really feels. it is the only thing he can take a chance with for him to feel anything nice. and real. (ily tvmicroscope your analysis' are so beautiful)

/and now simon turns up, "seems theres no place in this town, for something as pure as you seem" wilhelm definitely thought this when simon actually came to rescue him in the middle of the night all like "you came, oh my god you came, im so glad youre here, youre so beautiful" wilhelm was definitely shocked simon actually came, especially after all the back and forth wilhelm put him through. it just further proves how amazing(pure) simon is(for this world/town).

/another heartbreaking one "water to my waist in a shark-infested bin" again reminds me of the football field scene when it was raining. wilhelm is so overwhelmed with everything. the water. he just wants to talk to somebody, but he is surrounded by fake friends who want to use him, people who dont give a shit about him as a person. the sharks. he doesnt have anybody to turn to. so he takes the chance of calling simon.

/this time, i hear simon. "and i heard, that it hurts" it literally echoes simon's "love shouldnt be this difficult" from the season 3 trailer. or maybe even in season 1 where wilhelm completely betrays simons trust and then doesnt understand what he did wrong. its just so heartbreaking for both of them ): especially because simon still loves wilhelm but hes also angry at him. at first, wilhelm didnt want simon to be mad at him because of the drugs, and he wasnt. but now he lied, and their relationship has since changed, and simon is mad at him, rightfully so.

/this one is more direct, "two wrists, two wrist watches. tick-tick-tocking second hands slightly out of time" how many times have watches been brought up or specifically highlighted in just seasons 1 and 2? SO MANY TIMES. (haha get it) we even saw some watches in the season 3 trailer! even boris! "ive had this watch for 40 years and it still works" 40 years is honestly crazy though, what the hell. let me see that watch.

/yet another heartbreaking one, "i requested a room with a view, in the middle of a war between me and you" is literally wilhelm looking at the beautiful lake in season 2 crying because he has completely lost hope for simon and he felt soso alone )): thankfully(...)felice came to rescue him, replacing simon from season 1. parallels am i right?(we did NOT need another kiss between felice and wilhelm. one was enough. or apparently it wasnt i guess)

/and, excuse me, OH MY GODD, i can HEAR wilhelm telling simon: "ill be gloomy til they glue me in the arms of [he] who loves me, til the rats and worms are all interned at least five feet above we" he will not give up on simon until he is sure there is no hope left(which we saw in season 2 until the valentines day ball kiss, also in the previous paragraph). another scene that fits is how wilhelm asked simon to hold him ): and finally, just wille being silly (the rats and worms because rats and worms are inherently silly like come on) reminds me of their 'date' by the water in s1e5, but its also so sweet because he is saying he wants to be together with simon until death. which is really the only thing wilhelm definitely wants(as well as for august to rot in hell, or jail, either works but both would be best, but thats besides this point).

/then simon, "[he] smiled, at a joke" just in general how happy he is when theyre together. this reminds me of the lake 'date' again and how totally in love simon looked whenever he was looking at wilhelm. as well as the laugh at the end of s2e5 after wilhelm closed the curtains, im glad theyre healing and can laugh about that.

/once again, excuse me, THE FOOTBALL REFERENCES(its los campesinos' thing to have a lot of football/soccer references in their lyrics but i dont really know much about football/soccer, i just know the references are there) WITH THE WHOLE FOOTBALL METAPHOR AND HOW FOOTBALL=SOMETHING REAL(from what i remember about the tvmicroscope analysis, read it if you havent it was so amazing and it was just so nice to actually see someone take the time to go through the show and each clip and write everything down, i am not very good at spotting metaphors but i love reading about them). but we have roshs great line, "rowing isnt a sport. football is a sport." very insightful for this entire metaphor. i guess you could say when they were at rosh's football/soccer game for these lyrics, but i think thats a bit boring, sorry. i would also like to note that, because of my non-existent knowledge on football/soccer, i chose not to talk about them in detail because i really dont understand the references in the song. from what i do know and so we are on the same page, the references are "im diving into headers, put this pretty face where the boots are flying in" | "but we connected like a yeboah volley" | and "of missed panenka penalty" as well as the chant at the end of the song, but i will actually talk about that in depth because it isnt very specific. there might be more(probably) but im not 100% sure about them.

/finally, we have the entire ending, "ex-boyfriend, boyfriend, give us a song" repeating. another football reference by los camp! which also fits the young royals narrative. the repetition is used as a chant for football, a play on "give us a wave". firstly, the valentines day ball comes to mind. this scene is showing simon who he really(again football is a real sport, thank you tvmicroscope) loves at the valentines day ball, hence him chasing after and kissing wilhelm. he also previously said he couldnt fall in love with marcus, "it just feels like he likes me for real" and "i just dont understand why i cant fall in love with him" ON THE FOOTBALL FIELD. too bad he didnt take the hint back then. also(unrelated) he couldnt even spell marcus' name right. "Hej Markus" seriously simon? too bad he never sent that text. they could have potentially broken up sooner. and then at the end of the valentines ball when marcus wille is listening to his ex-boyfriend his boyfriend sing a song he wrote about HIM(despite him being unaware of this fact until the next episode). it is such a crucial moment in season 2's whole plotline(and wilhelms sanity). next, this reminds me how he literally fell in love with simon when he was singing for him when he was being welcomed to hillerska. the glance around at erik and august like "are you seeing this shit?" or "are we watching the same thing?" look because of simon is so iconic. and the smile is so sweet. his first gay panic experience. moving on, it reminds me of how they sang the same song together later in this same episode "it takes a fool to remain sane". finally, when wilhelm was PISSED because simon couldnt sing his song at the jubilee(and they broke up yet again) and he asked jan olaf about it. he really wanted to see simon perform that for him ): and for simon to be able to perform his song and be happy. at least wilhelm was able to give his wonderful speech. really i am so proud of him, nobody could have expected this from him, especially at this point. not even simon! "it was a.. um.. a moment i didnt want to share, with anyone else, so i lied about it". he has matured so much in such little time, he didnt even want to give this speech either. he shouldnt have to. his anxiety must have been through the roof and he probably threw up afterwards. and of course the infamous consequences. the only reason the queen talks with her son. at least he has simon with him now to hold him when it gets too much(no more fights season 3 please i beg i cant handle it after season 2, the ending did kind of make up for it all though). i got a little off topic but you get the point. also, i brought each of these different scenes up because the ending specifically repeated this lyric several times, like all of these different moments line up. its literally wilmons song, you cant tell me otherwise.

well, that was a lot. i have been thinking about this for WEEKS. months even. and while i typically wouldnt post something like this, i put soso much thought into writing this. like ive actually put so much thought into this its driving me insane. its literally wilmons song, in my opinion. i also just needed a reason to talk about my favorite song and band and relate it to my favorite show. please listen to the song(or anything by los camp! theyre AMAZING). thats really all i need in life, for more people to hear this masterpiece.

🩷💜 thank you💜🩷

i dont know if i will ever do anything like this again, perhaps. im not sure. i did actually enjoy writing this though. i didnt originally plan on writing anything significant but i got carried away. i was supposed to be drawing more wilmon, i want to finish it before season 3 is officially out but it is just so detailed📚. someone yell at me to finish the drawing PLEASE ! time is ticking but its so fucking DETAILED and TEDIOUS. oh my god theres only a week left WHAT THE FUCKK. anyways i loved this [: very fun!

[if there are any typos or just flat out mistakes, either no there isnt or just let me know, i probably wont fix it but i appreciate it. i also want to say i am aware i am HORRIBLE at staying on topic i just had so many things ive wanted to say]

💜

#Spotify #young royals #yr #wilmon #wilhelm young royals #simon eriksson #los campesinos #los campesinos!#Youtube

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noteguk · 4 years

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just a taste | kth | m

— summary; in which Werewolf!Taehyung really, really loves eating you out.

— warnings; mentions of wet dreams, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), dry humping, Tae cumming in his pants, overstimulation, werewolf!tae x human!reader, hugedick!tae, this is pretty much pwp

— words; 2.5k

Part of you knew what was coming when your boyfriend woke you up in the middle of the afternoon, after you had explicitly asked him to let you sleep in peace.

The last weeks in your office had been hell: too many spreadsheets to fill, too many late-night shifts and, just to top it all off, too many annoying coworkers talking too much about too little. You were basically being fueled by coffee and rage by that point and, just to be sure that you would make good use of your day off, you made yourself clear to Taehyung. He only had your permission to wake you up in case of an emergency — house on fire, near death experience, natural disaster. Things like that.

He nuzzled against your neck, his back pressing firmly against you as his arm slithered over your waist, holding you in place. “Babe, I’m so horny,” he moaned, the outline of his cock traveling between your asscheecks as he slowly thrusted upwards, trying to find some friction.

Which was totally not an emergency.

You were almost fully awake at that point, your mind throwing itself back in place as you felt his hardness roll against you once more, a deep groan leaving his mouth at the sensation of your soft butt against him.

“Taehyung, I asked you to let me sleep. I’m tired,” you mumbled.

“But you smell so good,” he grunted, his hand flying to the hem of your shorts and opening its button. You could tell, by how quickly he moved, that he was thinking of doing that for some time now. “I just know that you’re soaked, baby. I need to have a taste, please.”

Your cheeks flared up at his words, a rush of adrenaline taking over your body. Just like that, you were suddenly reminded of the filthy dream that was plaguing your head before he dragged you out of your slumber — you couldn’t quite recall the details, but you knew that it involved Taehyung fucking you, and that was all that mattered.

A small movement of your legs against each other was all that you needed to notice the wetness that had pooled between them, sticking your underwear to your pussy and showing you that your fantasies had overflowed to the real world. So that was what he was talking about when he said you smelled good.

When Taehyung was out of his “phase of the month”, as he said so himself, he almost never showed any signs of being a werewolf. Save for moments like that, when he was able to smell how wet you were from across the house, and started to hump you like he was in heat, unable to stop himself.

You bit back a moan as his large cock throbbed against you, a deep grunt leaving his lips at the feeling. If you didn’t let him taste you, you knew that he would just hump you until he came in his pants. It wouldn’t be the first, and probably not the last time that something like that happened. Not that you were complaining.

“Please, please, baby,” he tried again, more eager this time. His voice was high-pitched, mellowy and pleading, and his hips kept grinding against your ass like an animal as he buried his nose against the crook of your neck. “I need to taste you. I’m going fucking crazy.”

And how could you deny something like that? Fuck your day off. You could blow off the steam in other, more pleasurable ways.

“It’s all yours,” you said.

He sighed in relief. “Thank you, babe.”

Before you could even realize what was going on, Taehyung was manhandling you, turning you around and dropping you with your back against the mattress. You bounced on it a bit as he adjusted himself between your legs, eyes stuck to the way your shorts had curled up your thighs. The lust in his gaze was so intense that you almost whimpered at the view, watching as he licked his lips before, at last, hooking his fingers around the hem and harshly pulling your piece of clothing down.

“Fuck,” he cursed, lowering his body. Taehyung pressed his nose against your cunt, sharply inhaling your underwear, fingers growing tighter around your thighs. He let out a deep grunt. “You smell so fucking amazing, baby. Is this all for me?”

“Everything,” you agreed, watching as he bit his lips, sighing at the confession. “I was dreaming about you, Tae.”

“Yeah?” He asked, fingers moving under the hem of your panties, playing with it for a while. His touch was feverish against your skin, his sharp canines poking against his lip. Another glimpse at his eyes was all that you needed to see that his pupils were blown out, focused and lust-filled, his mind going a hundred miles per hour. God, he really was turned on. “What did you dream about?”

“I don’t remember much,” you confessed, “all that I know is that you were fucking me.”

He hummed, taking another deep breath against the cotton of your underwear. Taehyung’s mouth was salivating at that point, and you didn’t know how he didn’t tear the piece of clothing from you yet. “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, “I’m gonna refresh your memory.”

As Taehyung removed your panties, he gasped at the delicious sight of your wetness sticking to it, leaving a translucent trail behind. Hunger was evident on his face as his eyes focused on your soaked pussy, his mind spinning with the scent that had hit him like a tidal wave.

Before he even touched you, he inhaled deeply once again, allowing for your aroma to fill his lungs, overtaking his mind. Taehyung loudly groaned in satisfaction as his tongue licked a path up your wetness, moving between your folds, his digits digging to the flesh of your thighs at the contact. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, mouth aggressively eating you out as he caught every drop of your wetness that he could find, swallowing everything.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he mumbled, leaning in to lick you again. The sensation of his lips and tongue against your soaked pussy was filthy, making you buckle up your lips at the contact, hands flying to his hair. “I could eat you out all day, baby. You’re making me so fucking horny.”

You bit your lip, fingers yanking at his hair, silently begging for more. Taehyung moaned at the feeling, taking that as his cue to return to your center.

His voice vibrated against your pussy as he groaned, soaking two of his fingers inside you. “My baby’s so tight,” he praised, unaware that he was speaking out loud. Taehyung’s face was one of pure, lewd concentration — with his lips swollen and mouth coated by your juices; hooded eyes following the coming and going of his fingers. “I still don’t know how you can take my cock.”

At the thought of his member, you whined out, walls clenching around him — an event that didn’t pass unnoticed by his part. Taehyung’s cock was huge, courtesy of his werewolf genes, and the desperate need to have him stretching you out, filling every part of you, was just as sudden as it was unbearable.

“You liked that, baby?” Taehyung teased, slowing his movements so he could see the effect that he had on you. He was breathing hard, gasping for air as his member pulsated at the sight of you, so gorgeous and needy, coming apart just by being finger fucked. “You like when I talk about my big cock? When I fill you up with it?”

You could only muster the strength to nod, back arching at the feeling of his mouth coming back to lick your clit, tongue slithering around your sensitive spot again and again, tracing invisible circles on you. Taehyung moaned at your taste once more, sinking his head closer to your pussy, aching for more of your wetness.

After another deep breath, he moved his head back so he could speak. “Fuck, you really like my cock,” he said. With every gasp and cry from you, he felt himself getting impossibly harder, already leaking inside his pants. Taehyung would love to bend you over and fuck you raw against the bed, but he was too distracted by your scent to think that far ahead. “But not right now, baby. I need to eat you out first.”

Shaky, you cried out his name as he approached your entrance, not hesitating before he was back on working on it, swiftly replacing his fingers with his tongue. Your legs trembled at the sensation, feet finding solace against the mattress as you hung tighter onto his head, rolling your hips against his face. Taehyung almost cried out at the feeling, adoring how you pushed him closer to your pussy, forcing him to lick you more, taste you with more attention.

His hands moved to your legs, keeping you in place so he could explore every single spot of your heat. Everything he could think about was you: your saccharine taste, the heavenly smell of your arousal, the softness of your thighs against him. You were the air that he breathed, the moans that he heard, the sweetness that was running in his veins. Taehyung was going insane — his cock already so heavy and swollen against his pants, his hips thrusting against the bed in an attempt to relieve the pleasure that was infesting his veins, unable to come out.

“Taehyung, that’s so good,” you whined, heartbeat drumming inside your ears. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing as your release grew closer, thighs starting to shake under the weight to your upcoming orgasm. Taehyung, however, was relentless, only quickening his movements, too lost between your legs to care about the mess you had turned into. “God, don’t stop, I’m so close.”

With that, he returned to his previous mission, determined to lick every drop of your arousal. Taehyung’s hands were like anchors against your hips, pressing you down against the mattress and his mouth sucked on your clit, twirling his tongue against it again and again. Every once in a while, he stopped what he was doing just to dive a bit lower, savoring on the wetness that was running out of you.

He swallowed everything with intense delight, his eyes closing in euphoria every time you pressed yourself closer to him. The room was filled with nasty sounds — your moans, Taehyung’s grunts, the clicking of his mouth against you — and that was all that he knew.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, but he already knew that. He could feel you clenching around his tongue, the muscles of your legs shaking in a silent desperation. “God, Tae, you’re so good at this.”

Taehyung moaned at your praise, placing his two fingers back inside your pussy as his mouth focused solely on sucking your clit. He couldn’t even think about anything else, for he was getting closer to his own relief as well.

You hissed as Taehyung started spreading his fingers inside you, stretching you out. Your mind was too far gone by that point, you had turned into a babbling mess, trying to keep two sounds together before they just turned into another gasp, or maybe a call of his name. “I’m coming, Tae.”

Taehyung swallowed everything you gave him as you came around his fingers, your walls pulsating in waves of pleasure and hands tugging at his hair. He could feel himself going crazy at the lewd sounds you made for him, his enlarged cock throbbing at the thought that it was all for him.

As your high moved away from you, the feeling of his tongue stopped being pleasurable and started getting a bit too much. You winced as he continued to lick you, ignoring your high-pitched yelps for him to cease his movements. “Tae, stop, I’m—“

“More,” he groaned, hips desperately pressing down on the bed. His nails were digging against your flesh, keeping your shaky legs in place for him — as open as they possibly could be— as he sought his own high. “More, baby, I need just a bit more.”

Ragged breaths left your mouth as Taehyung continued to eat you out, grunting and moaning at your delicious taste.

“Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it’s too much.”

“You can take it, baby,” he told you, voice hoarse and coated by lust. He was fucking himself against the mattress so hard that you knew he was getting closer, and the need to have him fucking you that way made your walls clench around his fingers. “That’s it, baby, you’re so good. Give me more, please.”

You were unable to stop yourself as you came a second time, gushing against his mouth as another wave of euphoria washed over you. And that was all that he needed.

Taehyung came with a hoarse moan against your pussy, his cock throbbing inside his pants as he relieved his cum, spilling all over himself as he continued to hump the bed, licking every ounce of your juices as he cried out in bliss. The scene was absolutely erotic, and you would’ve come again if you weren’t already so sensitive under his touches.

He exhaled slowly and gave you one last lick, from your entrance all the way to your clit, before he moved away from your pussy. You followed his fingers as Taehyung took them to his mouth, sucking on the final drops of your wetness. “Hmmm, so good,” he praised, closing his eyes to focus on the taste. “Your pussy is so delicious, baby, I can’t hold back.”

Automatically, your eyes darted towards his pants, where a large wet spot had accumulated, his white cum started to drip through the thin fabric. More than that, a hush of need ran through your veins as you saw his cock, still so hard and heavy, pressing against it, begging for your attention.

Oh. It was one of those days.

Another thing with werewolves, at least from your own experience, was that, sometimes, they got so turned on that they just couldn’t stop after the first time. You couldn’t even recall all the times that Taehyung had fucked you again and again, sometimes not even stopping after he came, because one time just wasn’t enough — so hard and deep that he got you seeing stars by the time your orgasm washed over you again, crying out as he continued to spill inside you, filling you with his cum, just to do it again. It was so animalistic, so devoid of reason, that the thought made your walls clench around nothing.

Often that happened when Taehyung was close to his shifting, but apparently your scent had got him so riled up that it didn’t matter at that point. His cock was still hard, impossibly big as he leaned in to kiss you, making you taste your own sweetness as he pressed down on you, making you feel the weight of his member against your pussy.

“Baby,” he gasped against your lips, his hips already starting to roll against you, “I’m still so horny, I need more.”

Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

#bts fic #bts smut #kim taehuyng #taehyung smut #werewolf #x reader #x you #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #reader insert #taehyung pwp #drabble #smut drabble #bts #bts au #taehyung au

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

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ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing— it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

#a fluffy premise AND ian being obsessed with mickey’s neck??#what more could u want #*blows kiss to elias and stella* for u #also yes i did have a word document on my computer titled ‘neck fic’#what about it #ty for the prompt anon this was truly an experience to write #ily<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless imagine #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm #gallavich fanfiction #cw choking

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druid-for-hire · 4 years

Photo

new hadestown au: BIKER ! EURYDICE, in which she’s a rogue lone-wolf biker dwelling in the urban jungle of a Neo Tokyo-type city called Hadestown, wracked with biker gangs, violence, poverty, corruption, and civil unrest, still recovering and rebuilding from an apocalyptic event many years ago. Heavy-handed with the AKIRA inspirations here, haha.

She fights for herself on the dangerous streets, an illegal racer with a consistent top-three placement and a reputation for ferocity that earns her the money she needs to scrape by. And then she meets Orpheus: a dopey bartender who has no place being in her business.

okay okay okay i’m gonna be jumping around a lot here. be warned. thanks @supercantaloupe, @regzillas, @birdmanlyss for your contributions! (sorry if i missed someone it’s been a while)

she's a lone wolf in a city infested with biker gangs and it's brutal

she's run over plenty of limbs in her day

then there's orpheus, this gentle, kind-hearted soul, an indie musician and shes like. fuck. now i gotta keep this bastard safe

puts a long pipe with a mess of bolts and metal on the end in his hands and tells him he'd better buckle up and learn to fight the road

this sort of thing is common among biker gangs to cause destruction and knock people off their bikes onto the road. other types include mallets, hammers, baseball bats, etc

shes small but knows a lot of self defense and is very good at handling herself on the road

besides teaching orpheus to steel himself and yes use that pipe on people, push them off and jam it in their wheels and let it break if it does, she's gotta teach him to hold on while she pulls all this crazy shit on her bike

she avoids taking him on the road because having to fight people gives him so much stress but he also stresses about her so it's all weird

the first time orpheus sees her run over someones arm hes like ""???????????????????!!!!!!!!"

"Don't worry it doesn't happen often" "WHAT IS 'OFTEN'"

she has a red songbird on her helmet and flowers on her jacket

and flowers painted on her bike too probably

or patterns like on the album cover

orpheus thinks it’s the prettiest shit he’s ever seen

so eurydice races, right? everyones like “who is this tiny little upstart” and then she takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair and everyone loses it

somethingsomething ig hades (who is something of a crime boss here, similar to Tombstone from the Spectacular Spider-Man cartoon, but not so unambiguously villainous in nature) becomes a contractor and he catches her in like, a bad contract that's hard to get out of without some kind of consequence

and now orpheus has to topple a capitalist again

anyway she like, meets orpheus in this little bar he works at

it's about lower middle class, so it's not too bad but it's still mostly populated by like, poorer people and bikers, etc.

they meet and it's cool and fun blah blah Come Home With Me shit

also this is a scene:

biker!eury: we gotta cross through downtown orpheus: what???? but there's a riot going on there! right now! eury: that's too bad, it's the fastest way! that's why you get this! (tosses him her pipe weapon) orpheus, barely catching it: sajskhsfdfs ???? eury: and i am gonna take this. (kicks open a trunk and takes out a rifle) orpheus: ???????!!!!???!?? WHERE DID YOU GET THAT AND DO WE REALLY NEED IT eury: Yes we do now come on orpheus: H-HOW did you get it eury: (loads gun) no worries orpheus: No i have many worries HOW DID YOU--

actually, on this emergency ride, orpheus proves surprisingly competent with her pole weapon—ruthless even, and eurydice wonders just where and how the hell he learned that

the conversation she has with him about that is the same one where he shows her his old, old scars

(besides ruthless—orph has apparently learned how to pose and intimidate. he does stuff like putting the tip of the pole-pipe to the asphalt as they’re riding, skipping on the road and creating sparks)

eurydice loves her bike more than certain relatives

certain complications lead to it being destroyed by hades as punishment for doing him wrong. and it destroys her. that is her most trusted sacred bike, that thing has been with her since she was a teenager

once she repurposes that devastation into white-hot anger orph has to physically restrain her from hunting hades down and breaking his kneecaps with a thick lead pipe

he's never seen her this absolutely devastated and furious

he goes to persephone for more work because he wants to buy eurydice a new bike

he keeps it a secret from her until he leads her out to a garage, hands over her eyes

(some of these bits are copypasted from my friend @regzillas)

orpheus takes his hands off and says Tada!!! it's just like the old one, there's no painted birds but she can do that. She just stands there in total silence mouth open, and orpheus goes 'so? do you like it?' before she bursts into tears. and at first orpheus is like :O!!!!! oh no!!! do you not like it? and eurydice through sobs just says 'nobody's ever done something like this for me’

it's... beautiful, it's touching, it's deep and it's love and she's so in love and she loves him so much, and she cries and holds him close and takes him in and she's so overwhelmed by her emotions, full of the care that orpheus so freely gives to her; and it's a breath of newness, fresh air in the cycle of dread and bitter anger that haunts the city (but she's still going to find hades and shoot him in the foot)

he just holds her and kisses her head

they spend the day painting it, the day after he buys the bike

hand-painted. and they both leave their handprints in paint on it, like carl and ellie do on their mailbox in the beginning of Up

a significant amount of time is spent thinking of a good name

theres lots of joking and eurydice playfully shoves orpheus and he falls over into paint

okay i wrote something like. Obnoxiously long for orpheus. i sort of have his backstory in this down, but i don’t have anything for eurydice unfortunately :( suggestions are welcome! but first: Hermes

biker!au hermes owns a chain of bars, several of which find their patronage among the ruffian youth, several of which are more refined and serve the middle class, and another several of which serve the upper crust hermes has a hand in every world and it serves him pretty well, and his chain is a bit of a channel of communication and its unspoken rule that whatever socioeconomic class or gang or organization you're a part of, hermes' chain is neutral territory no fighting allowed

eurydice walks in and hermes just gives her a Look and taps the 'no fighting' sign and she huffs

hes >:( if anyone does try to start shit. the honor system is strong enough that usually the other patrons will just throw them out, and if there are really problems, they'll hear from hermes personally

he maintains a very strict "no bitching in my fucking kitchen" atmosphere

and now, Orpheus

this really is kind of akira but without the government conspiracies; the city is a neon corrupt hellscape that’s still struggling to rebuild after an apocalyptic event that wiped it all through. the city is wracked with frustration and violence and anger, there are still urban ruins everywhere and the scars of rebuilding and struggle are plain in every corner of life; plain to see are the shells of ruined buildings, gigantic boats levelled from the sea and left in the middle of inland sectors.

orpheus was abandoned by his mother at an early age—kind and timid, he had to learn fast how to be suspicious and cautious in cruel ways. he couldn’t land himself a spot in any of the groups that other ragtag raging folks had eked out for themselves, still too hesitant or ungraceful or young for any of them. sure, he made friends, sitting and talking with lots of people, but never got to really team up—all he could do was just fight for himself in the blown out corners of the city. weapons made from whatever he had. a young child already spitting blood and teeth in hadestown’s vicious ground-floor landscape.

hermes is his mother’s close old friend, though the times they see each other are few and far between. when he saw him, hermes hardly recognized her son, wild-eyed and clawed and alone in one of the city’s more dangerous neighborhoods, with a pole full of screws slung over his back. how did she lose track of her kid for so long? he thinks. and takes him in.

hermes eventually realizes that his mother didn’t lose him. meanwhile, tiny orpheus, kind-hearted orpheus, despises hermes at first. he’s full of suspicion and desperately wants to lean into hermes’ kindness, but the streets have taught him to hold back. he spits curses at him, though the words slide right off hermes’ shoulders. it’s not genuine. just frustrated. and picked off of the delinquents that were his friends, just like most everything else about him.

(hermes knows he’s gotten his trust when orpheus starts getting soft, when he’s crying over littler things; it means he’s been deemed safe to be vulnerable around, and he damn near starts crying himself.)

orpheus owns a little vespa! it’s covered in stickers, some of them worn out and old, some places with just the adhesive and the fuzzy white paper from where he tried to pull them off. some of them aren’t even proper stickers and just shit he peeled off from places while he was wandering around and stuck onto the vespa

even in canon i see him as the kind of guy who like. you look at him and think jesus how is this guy still alive he’s so noodly and soft, but he’s unexpectedly sort of street smart

anyway i mentioned this before but didn’t elaborate. biker au orph, to eury's surprise, does have his collection of scars, since he had a bit of a rough go at life

also he’s just ungainly and runs into shit

you can see em on his sketch page. he has a bit more than what’s shown, but what’s visible is a little slash across the bridge of his nose onto his cheek, and two on his left forearm. he probably has a stab scar in his side from just getting fucking knifed. the ones on his left forearm are from when a drunk coming out of a bar charged him with a fork

eurydice also has scars. kind of hard not to with the kind of life she lives

ok thats it. For Now. i don’t know how persephone or the fates or the workers factor in, if at all. I barely know how Hades factors in, mostly what i’ve said so far and that he does what he does to support himself and persephone. ah well! just have this

as this is extremely based off of AKIRA, i verily recommend listening to the movie’s soundtrack. besides the fact that it slaps hard as hell, the opening song, Kaneda’s Theme, has the perfect vibes for the city and the tone of eurydice and orpheus riding at night through it

#hadestown #hadestown art #hadestown fanart #hadestown au #broadway #musicals #biker au #my art #this au first came into being because i wanted eurydice with fingerless gloves

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 2/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 2: Mother

“Good morning James, it is time to get up.”

James woke to the sunlight beaming on his face, stretching his arms to the sky as he groaned. He sat up in bed, wiping his face with the palm of his hand to wake himself from sleep. He slid his legs to the side, feeling his toes touch the light carpet beneath the bed. Shaking his head, he stood from the bed. “Status report.”

“It is currently 9am, pollution level 68%, you have no appointments today.”

“Bloody hell.” He groaned. “What happened to my 7am alarm?”

“You cancelled that alarm, James. Your alarm was set for 9am to begin work at 10am.”

“I cancelled it…” He stood in the middle of his room. “When did I cancel the bloody alarm?”

“I show you cancelled the alarm at 1:30am and set a new alarm for 9am.”

“What the bloody…” He didn’t remember doing anything at 1:30 am. As far as he knew he had been sleeping. He sat down on the chair next to him, running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, trying to remember anything happening during the evening that would have caused him to reset his alarm. The longer he thought about it, the more his head hurt. He didn’t need a migraine this morning, he was already late for work now.

He dressed quickly, exiting his apartment to head to the diner.

He was certain that Granny was going to fire him for being this late. When he stepped into the diner she shook her head and pointed to the kitchen.

“You need to get that alarm of yours fixed.”

“Yes Ma’am. I’m going to call a repairman straight away.”

“Get to work.”

The rest of his shift went as usual, James stayed two hours after his shift to assist Granny with the late evening rush, feeling guilty about being late once again. Once the diner had died down, he gathered his coat and was headed to the door. A man sitting in a corner booth caught his attention. It wasn’t that he recognized the man, not entirely, but he seemed familiar.

Something about him gave him a sense of Déjà vu. The headache blinded him as he tried to access the information, the man took notice of him as he grabbed ahold of the nearest bench, trying to steady himself.

“Oi, you look like you could use some help.”

“I’m fine.” He tried to brush him off, pushing the door to the diner open and stepping into the busy street. The man followed him, which annoyed James. “I said I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mate.”

He glanced at the man, narrowing his eyes, there was something about him. “I’m…” The headache blinded him again and he staggered to the edge of the diner, walking back toward his car, and reaching in his pocket for his inhibitor.

“I wouldn’t take that.” The man warned behind him.

“Who are you?” He asked angrily, tripping backwards against his car.

“I’m Will, we spoke the other day. I just want to talk to you about Emma.”

James fell to his knees as it felt like pins and needles were attacking his body, he pulled the inhibitor toward his arm and the man reached down and grabbed at the injector. “Get away from me, what are you doing?”

“Killian, don’t inject that.”

The name shook him, pictures flashed in his brain, the blonde-haired woman from his dreams staring at him with emerald, green eyes, the name falling from her lips like it somehow belonged to him. Killian. He was losing his mind. He pressed the injector to his arm and pushed, a loud hiss emitting as the cool liquid entered his veins. He fell back against the car, exhaling with a groan.

“Dammit mate, I’m trying to help you.”

“You stay away from me before I call the cops.”

“Bloody hell…look, the more you inject that stuff, the more you forget. They messed with your brain, made you all foggy and shite.” James stared at the man as if he had just grown two heads. “You keep getting headaches right? Things don’t add up, and when you think about them, you get a headache.”

“You’re bloody crazy.” He stood up, grabbing the door to his car and yanking it open. “Stay the hell away from me.”

“Will Scarlet.” He shouted before James shut the door.

“Will what?”

“My name, Will Scarlet. Write it down or something.” He turned and left the alley, running in the opposite direction of the diner.

James shook his head, looking at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Write it down.

He didn’t need to write it down, did he? The man was a lunatic. But…he knew about the headaches; how did he know about them? How did he know that things were out of place?

He looked around the floor of his vintage car, trying to find anything to write with. People thought he was crazy for hanging onto a relic from the 1900’s. It cost him a fortune to repair it. And somehow he knew how to fix everything on his Chevy Chevelle, but anytime he tried to remember how he knew, the headaches came.

He found a marker lying under the mat of the passenger side, grabbing it, he tried to find something to write on. With the absence of paper, he ripped the sleeve of his shirt up and scribbled against his flesh in black ink.

Will Scarlet

~*~

“It’s not like him to be gone for this long without contacting me. Even if he were working on something, he would have mentioned it.”

“Could the resistance have removed him from the playing field?” Mayor Mills asked from her place at her desk.

“Was he working on a case that had to do with the resistance?” David questioned.

David’s new partner, Killian Jones had been missing for weeks now, no message, no contact, just gone. Killian had been quiet about his most recent case; he knew it had something to do with a contact who had reached out to him, and Killian was following a lead, but he wasn’t ready to share information yet. He hadn’t known the man long, he was aware that he was mostly a private person, but he would never just take off without talking to the Captain first.

“Officer Jones case was confidential. We need to find him but keep it quiet. Killian could have found something that could destroy the Resistance, we have to get to him before they do.” She turned to the holo screen in front of her.

David glanced at the screen in front of the Mayor. “Resistance riders made it past the walls?” He inquired nervously.

“Yes, last night we had a breach on the west side. Officer Locksley apprehended two of them. But the rest got away.”

“What were they after?”

“Trying to take down the security net near the harbor. I suspect they have a group in the foglands.”

“What are the plans to take that out?”

“No plans. We’ll let Hive do that for us.”

David exhaled, a look of shock on his face. “You want to work with the Hive?”

“Of course not.” She snorted. “But, when you have an infestation, it’s easier to let the predators take each other out. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I don’t trust the Hive any more than I trust the Resistance.”

“Officer Nolan, The Hive operate outside the walls, they remove the danger before it breaches our city. And if something were to sneak its way inside, to infest our people with lies and misinformation, we have the Gold Collective to remove it, for the good of Storybrooke.”

“That’s another group I don’t trust, how is it for the good of Storybrooke to let them make pod people!” He exclaimed.

“The Void are able to become trustful members of our society again, the Gold Collective has done a great service to our community. And as far as the Hive are concerned, as long as they continue to operate outside our walls, I welcome their removal of our shared problem.”

“So how are either of them any different than the Resistance?”

The Mayor stood. “The idea of the Resistance threatens to destroy everything we hold dear. If even a single one of them is left standing, everyone we know and love, our values, our safety, are in danger. They will bring the plague to Storybrooke, they cannot be trusted, and they must be destroyed.”

David nodded, taking his leave as he returned to the lower levels of the station. He knew that Regina was right, the Resistance stood to destroy everything they had worked so hard to build after the plague hit. He knew that locking people out, building the walls, was not something that the town initially embraced. He too felt guilty when they seemed to doom so many on the other side of the wall. But they had to protect their town.

When the Gold Collective first appeared, run by a man with no past yet unlimited money, taking people off the streets and experimenting on them, the Mayor went after them with the full force of the Storybrooke PD. Then the Hive came. They had kept the Hive from breaching the station walls, drove them back behind the walls and ended their yearlong power grab.

But then a strange thing started happening, townsfolk who had disappeared, those who had been experimented on during the war, returned, with no memory of who they were. Loved ones who no longer recognized their family or friends.

The Mayor came out publicly, condemning the Collective for their interference with her citizens, and then six months later, quietly began accepting the practice. David didn’t know what had changed, only that Regina seemed to think that whatever Gold and his collective was doing, was protecting them. The people who had disappeared were a danger to society, conspirators who agreed with the Resistance, they needed to be stopped before their reckless behavior allowed the plague to spread inside the walls of Storybrooke.

And so, they stopped searching for the agents of the collective, when someone showed up without their memories, the town simply helped to get them acclimated to their work. People turned a blind eye to the reason they went missing, accepting them as new members of their society.

At the same time, the Hive stopped advancing on the town, disappearing into the shadows on the other side of the town’s walls.

Only the Resistance fought back, the war outside the walls between the two factions was escalating. At night they could see the fires burning beyond the mountains. The smoke had become so heavy that they could no longer see the horizon over the water. The area became known as the foglands. The heavily guarded wasteland that the Resistance currently controlled.

Many nights they would send raids to the walls, trying to take down the security net that connected the walls. The resistance would not stop until it fell. And if the walls fell, the plague would take them all.

He had not heard of a single soul surviving the plague. No cure had been found. Without the walls, they would all die. The Resistance had to be stopped.

His com unit beeped, alerting him that he had reached his destination. Stepping out of the electric vehicle he walked the stairs to his home. Opening the door, he smelled the fragrant aroma of chicken baking in the back of the house. He could hear his wife’s voice in the background, the alluring melody of the song she was humming making his heart smile with joy.

When he turned the corner, Mary Margaret had her back to him, swaying back and forth to the music she was singing softly to. He crept up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. “Mmm it smells wonderful in here.”

She melted into him, humming lightly. “You’re late, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I had a meeting with Regina.”

“And what did the Mayor want with my husband.” She sang softly.

“The usual, how to destroy the Resistance.” He chuckled and then paused. “But she’s more concerned about Officer Killian at the moment.”

She turned in his arms, a grave look on her face. “Is he still missing? Hasn’t it been weeks, David.”

“I know. Regina thinks the Resistance might have gotten to him.” He sighed. “I hope she’s wrong. I’m worried about him, it’s not like him to just go silent.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been to his apartment, the diner on 5th, the Chinese place he goes to, no one has seen him in weeks.” He sat down at the table. “Regina told me to keep digging, she thinks he’s important, whatever he was working on before he disappeared might be what we need to take down the Resistance once and for all.”

She embraced him, pulling him against her chest. “I know if anyone can find him, you will.”

He looked up and smiled at her as she bent down to press her lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my Prince Charming.” She broke the contact, turning back to her dinner. “Oh, by the way, I have to go out tonight. I forgot to buy the ham for dinner tomorrow.”

“You should have told me; I could have picked it up for you. If you want, I can call the service, I know you don’t trust the LRU’s but they provide quick service.”

She snorted, “Never, why would anyone trust something called a Life Replacement Unit? Even the name blatantly calls out that they mean to replace us. It’s no bother for me to go to the store. It’s how they did it years ago, and besides I enjoy getting out of the house.”

“Well, I have some work to catch up on so I’ll try and get it done before you get back, maybe we can spend the evening watching the holo.”

She turned back toward him and smiled. “I would love that.”

~*~

James parked his Chevelle in the assigned spot at the back of the building, watching as the platform descended into the ground, sending the car to rest beneath the apartment.

He looked up at the building, noticing the way the fog had rolled in from the harbor and hugged the side of the building. He glanced ominously toward the horizon; the smoke looked darker than it had in days. No one was talking about what was happening outside the walls, in the depths of the waters that banked against the town.

“Hey.”

He jumped and turned toward a dark-haired woman. “It’s bad form to sneak up on a man, lass.”

“Sorry about that.” She giggled. “I was wondering if you could spare a lightstick?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t use those. Bad for your health.” He shrugged and stepped away from the woman.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” She chased after him.

“Look, I already told you, I don’t do the stuff. Neither should you, lass.” Before he could enter the building the woman grabbed him by the arm. He turned toward her quickly as she glared at him. “Listen you siren, while I appreciate a beautiful woman such as yourself getting all handsy with me, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“I just want to talk.”

“I’m not in the mood for that either.” He growled. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving now.”

With a quick move, she tightened her grip on his arm, pushing his sleeve further up his forearm, staring at the black ink on his arm. “How do you know Will Scarlet?” Every sensor in his brain went off at once.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded. “If you know that lunatic, I want nothing to do with you. He’s crazy as a loon and so are you.” He reached for the door to his building before he felt a pain in the back of his neck and the world around him faded to black.

He heard noises around him as the ache in his neck seemed to radiate through his body. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but he knew he wasn’t near his apartment anymore. He could hear the sound of seagulls off in the distance and the slosh of water all around him. He opened his eyes but could only see darkness and the fabric placed over his head clung to him. Whoever had taken him didn’t want him to see where he was going or how he got there.

He tried to sit up when his leg hit something hard next to him, sending a clatter of noise off to his right as something smashed to the ground.

“I think our guest has woken up.” Someone grumbled.

“We’re almost there.” He heard another voice.

“She wants to talk to him as soon as we arrive.” He heard the woman’s voice from the apartment.

“This is a stupid idea.” The first voice whispered. “Bringing him here is going to get us all killed.”

“We don’t even know if he’s on our side.”

“Stop talking.” The woman’s voice rang out again. “I’m going to go help dock the boat.”

James sat for what felt like a lifetime as he waited for the voices to come back, instead he listened to the strange sound of the engine, the whirl of a generator somewhere deep below him. He fell forward as the boat hit against something solid.

“Land ho.” A voice boomed to his left.

Arms suddenly were grabbing him, dragging him to his feet. “Who are you, just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” He begged.

“You ain’t in no danger ‘ere.” The man squawked. “Just don’t be no trouble.”

James tripped over the stairs and the woman’s voice shrilled behind him. “Would you idiots be careful; mother will be really angry if you injure our prize.”

“Sorry Ma’am.” The voice to his right said apologetically with a loud sneeze.

“Maybe if he learned to walk, sister, we wouldn’t have no trouble.” The voice to his left grumbled angrily.

Once he stepped down again, he could tell he was standing on planks that were connected to a dock. The sway of the ground meant he was over water still. “I’ll take him from here.” He felt the woman slide up beside him, grabbing him by the arm. “She just wants to talk to you, that’s all. If you aren’t interested in what she has to say, you can go back to your miserable existence afterwards.”

“Who’s this she?” He asked nervously.

“The Mother of the Resistance, of course.” She said with a laugh and James felt his blood run cold. He was in the foglands; he had been taken by the Resistance.

He heard a metal door squeal open on rusty hinges and he stepped onto solid ground, as soon as it slammed shut, the itchy fabric was pulled from his head, and he tried to adjust his eyes to the dark glowing lights around him.

“Welcome to the foglands.” The woman announced.

“I’m positively glowing with anticipation.” He said smugly and the woman snorted beside him.

“Oh, they said you were a sarcastic one. I wasn’t sure if you retained that in your new existence.”

“Retained what? New existence?” he asked in confusion. “What are you on about?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for all of that yet.” She grinned as they stepped into a large metal room, water swirling around at their feet.

“Do you intend to drown me, leave me for dead?” He asked incredulously, staring around him at the boxed in room.

“No one is leaving anyone for dead.” A loud voice boomed and echoed through the room. At the other end of the box, a woman stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight illuminating her face through a grate in the ceiling.

“And just who the hell are you?”

“Me?” She laughed. “I’m the Mother of the Resistance.” She paused, stepping closer to him. “But you can call me Mary Margaret.”

#void of extinction #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #captain swan au #captain swan

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bitchiha · 4 years

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To Eternal Bliss, I’m so Glad to Know (ModernAU!Hidan x Reader)

The Rats 1k event prompt: Street racer x Hidan

A/N: hey.. aha.. how y'all doing.. hum so i haven't been doing great, I think that is evident through my inactivity on this blog, but that being said i am in a bit of a better place now. i finally have some time to myself and i intend to put that towards my 900 follower event. Enjoy this wonderful piece of modern racer Hidan that strayed into crazy murder himbo I love car man Hidan.

Title inspired by: this song.

MAJOR TWs: smut, harassment (brief, undescriptive), uhm murter, reckless driving, lots of mentions of and contemplations of death. You are a literal accomplice to murter. Reader is confused. But.. It’s not supposed to be gory and dark, I kinda wanted it to just be stupid and reflect a himbo hidan as much as I could. Last like 6 paragraphs aren’t edited.

You shouldn’t be in a criminals car, much less in the middle of a police chase and much much less be falling in love with him.

His silver hair flashes wildly in the occasional flicker of red and blue lights, teeth bared; he was making that face again. That one he had when he first met you, lips curled and canines showing. It looked like he was in pain. It was just because he was actually trying to use his brain, you think. He grips the wheel tightly, the whites of his pale knuckles glowing as he swerves onto one of the busiest city streets you know.

Barely avoiding a collision with a distinct yellow blur you could barely classify as a taxi, he continued to speed through the lanes, horns blaring and merging into the sound of the wailing sirens quickly approaching. Another sharp turn onto a slightly less busy road had your body slamming against the console, leaning close to Hidan. Your eyes stray from the window and onto his face, unable to hear what he is saying, you make out the movement of his lips:

shit,shit,shiiit

The tires screeched as he fumbled around with the controls, sending the car into a full 180 and narrowly avoiding a police car sacrificing its auto body in favour of capturing Jashin. That was real close call, just scratching the side of the passenger door, but you wouldn't know; you were still watching your boyfriends features as he speeds off down another dirty alley.

You were pretty sure that one day you were going to die trapped in Hidans little metal box.. A distant part of you wanted to throw up when you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sure, he was obnoxiously annoying in the most serious of times and incredibly oblivious when you desperately needed him to get a clue. I mean fuck, it felt like despite his adolescent years of elementary and secondary school (which you’re not even sure he attended) his brain only had the capacity to process two things. The first being lewd shit and the second would be the gas pedal... and maybe half a braincell was in there thinking of you, but probably only of you in your panties or something really shallow like that.

You really shouldn’t love him.

Barrelling down the alley he randomly slammed the breaks down, the lack of warning sending you flying forward. Bracing yourself to be slammed into the front of car, but just when you thought you were going to break your nose Hidan reversed, sending your body backwards instead. You yelped and he sent you a stupid little apologetic curl of his lip before twisting his body, hand coming to your chair for support as he sped the car backwards through the trash littered street. You didn't understand why he suddenly changed his mind about the direction until a few seconds later when a black and white cop car swerved down the alley in the direction you were back pedalling from. Hidan must have known they were going to try and cut his route off.

At the sight of the police vehicle your boyfriend impulsively slammed the breaks, rolling his window down and leaning his head out of it, “Ha, you stupid fucks think you could catch Jashin with some lame shit like that? I could smell that from a mile away!” From your boyfriends childish tone you predicted he was going to blow a raspberry, but the sound of speeding tires approaching quickly stopped him. Sirens blaring, the police car sped its way forward.

“Oh fuck.” Hidan sped Jashin backwards again.

You remembered the first time you met Jashin.

It was late that night, you were making your long trek home after a disastrous closing shift. You were tired. So fucking tired. You never would have taken that shortcut if you weren’t truly physically drained. As you made your way briskly through that musky trash infested canal, you were stopped by a man who smelled just as intensely as the alley itself. It was so much so that you had thought that perhaps it was the mans smell that was so potent and not the space itself.

Defining what the source of that smell was wasn’t important though, not when he was coming straight at you with barred, yellow teeth. You didn't know what to do and to be fair, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He was yelling something, you couldn't hear it over the thrashing of your erratic heartbeat. Were you going to die? You were so fucking tired.

Maybe you should run.

You didn’t though. Didn’t have the energy. So you let the man come face to face with your figure, grabbing at the lapels of your coat and screaming. His breath was unbearable and you thought you were going to pass away just from the smell as opposed to actually being murdered. Although you suppose this could probably qualify for a murder, his breath was most definitely a weapon. But despite his shouts being directly at you, his humid breath spraying across your face as his chest constantly heaved, you couldn't understand what he was saying.

“Jashin! Jashin is coming!”

What the fuck was Jashin? Could you still not hear him? He was probably sick. You were tired. So you continued to let him shake your form. Was he going to kill you or just ask for some money?

Thats when a beast of sleek red metal swerved down the alley, trampling over peeled open garbage bags and beer bottles, approaching you with each sound of a crinkled can. It was gunning straight towards the man who was backing you up against the wall, he was frothing and screaming at the sight and the next moment the hood of the car slammed into his form. Despite your close proximity to the man, you were left barely unscathed and a little bit disappointed.

The scene laid frozen for a good thirty seconds: the man unconscious on the floor, your unsteady breathing and the window of the car rolling down. It inched back to reveal a man about your age - which made him just barely a man - with silver slicked back hair, barred teeth and knitted eyebrows.

“Shit.”

You just stared at him, backpack beginning to slide down your shoulders. He stared back at you, waiting to see what your next move was going to be. You didn’t have one.

“...If it makes you feel any better, douchebag deserved it.” The man said a few minutes later, he clearly wasn't expecting the crumpled body on the floor to have tried to seek out help, let alone from a cute girl. He smoothed his hair back.

His crappy attempt to seduce you didn't work and nor did his equally crap words of consolation, you were tired. This whole situation was even more tiring. You just wanted to sleep.

“I won't tell anyone, if you just drive me home.”

He clearly wasn't expecting that, you could tell that from the pained look intensifying on his face and his little choked gasp. A few moments later it released like an elastic band snapping and his features set into a smug smirk. A cute girl who wasn’t gonna snitch on him?

“You’re not going to question the fact that I just hit someone with my car? Is it cause I'm so fucking sex-”

You weren’t listening, walking over the heap of a body and around the car into the passenger seat. The contrasting smell of vanilla and cigarettes clouded your senses as you clicked your seatbelt into place - noticing his lack of one in the process.

You hated that your face was burning up as you spoke. “I live a few blocks away.”

For a while you were sure that this was the first girl Hidan had ever had in his car. It was obvious that he was freaking out, maybe if he didn’t hit people in alleyways and then blamed your silence on the fact that he was so fucking sexy, then maybe he would be able to talk to more.

He tried to blab to you the whole way to your apartment accidentally making wrong turns to try and extend the length of your stay. He told you about that man in the alley, said something about how he totally fucked him over in some black market shit for auto parts. Said his enemy, - he stressed this word very intensely - Shikamaru probably put him up to it. Nobody messes with Jashin goddamit, I fucking hate that guy. It was a shit justification for murder no doubt, there is never a good reason to hit someone with a car, but you supposed your indifference wasn't any better.

You stole a couple glances at him every now and then, when his eyes took a break from darting back and fourth between your thighs, your face and the road. He had a sharp jaw, pretty cheekbones, gelled back hair with small strands escaping every so often - causing him to brush them back when too many tickled his forehead - his lashes were long and his eyes so pretty so in the dim light of the empty city streets. His teeth were straight and sharp canines peeked out whenever he sent you a suggestive smirk.

You also spent an unbelievably long time watching his fingers maneuver the steering wheel, the way his hands flexed with a certain turn. The veins of his forearms travelling underneath his leather jacket pushed up at the elbows, his jeans were all worn out and faded and his shoes looked like they were about to fall apart, it was a big difference in comparison to the well kept state of his handsome car.

When he finally made it to your complex after running out of roads to take wrong turns down, he looked at you like a lost puppy, rolling the passenger window down to call out to you as you opened the lobby doors. “So I’ll meet you out here tomorrow then? Say, around 9?”

You turned to look at him confusedly, inquiring as to why he would be picking you up when you made no reservations to see him again, why would you want to see your accomplice in a murder ever again? But he was already speeding off before you got the chance.

At least you could finally go to sleep.

The next day he was outside your apartment fifteen past nine, blaring his horn as he maneuvered his upper body to hover out the window of his lovely Jashin. You were nestled on your couch, staring at the blue light of the TV screen in your dark apartment desperately trying to avoid the textbook glowering at you from the coffee table.

‘Cute kitten saved from tree’ was sprawled across the bottom of your television in bold letters as a perky blonde read off the little cue cards in her hand. You’d been watching the news all day, waiting for the red breaking news! To slice across the screen and read out the description of a crippled homeless gambler found dead in an alley, but it never came.

It mad you feel a little angry when you realized his death wasn’t going to be announced and you knew there was no way it hadn’t been discovered yet. Then you sat startled at the realization that you didn’t feel anything towards what happened. That the anger you felt in wanting it to be so desperately displayed on the news was because you hoped you would feel something then.

The sound of Hidans car horn threw you out of your thoughts as you jumped like a frightened cat to the window. Peeling back the curtain you were surprised to see that blood stained blotch on the road with a lavender haired boy peeking out, baring his teeth.

You contemplated staying inside, he didn’t know your apartment number, but you knew that he definitely wouldn’t stop blaring the horn if you didn’t. His hand was undeniably laying flat against the centre of he wheel as he continued to sound out, you heard someone yell for him to fucking shut up. Hidan continued as if he didn’t hear. It kind of flattered you.

You wanted to vomit.

You took the stairs.

It was the beginning of winter when you finally let Hidan fuck you. You were in some parking lot lined with pitch black shops on a Sunday night. Everyone closed early going home to their families, except the two of you of course.

It was odd being with him for this long. One outing turned into another and then another, before you knew it he was picking you up every night at nine -sometimes fifteen minutes passed,- blaring his horn excitedly as he peeked out his car.

He told you it was the perfect place to do donuts, didn’t you want to do donuts? You did. It was the beginning of winter. It was icy. His idea was incredibly fucking stupid. But you agreed because maybe you’d skid on the ice and smash into a store, get crushed by the crumbling debris..

There was little snowflakes hitting the windows of Jashin as you two sat parked in the middle of the deserted lot.

“You ready? Oh you’re gonna love this, babe.”

He grinned as your face heated up at the name, you always got all flustered whenever he said anything like that. It made him feel giddy. His long fingers start Jashin up, moving to clutch the wheel as the car thrums to life.

When he makes the first swerve with his car, he turns his head to watch your body all stiff and frightened. It was funny. He laughed as your face twisted into an even more flustered one - if that was possible. God, you were always such a hard ass at the beginning of the night, but when he dropped you off outside your apartment early into the morning he always made sure to leave you with a little smile on your face. Even now, this early into the night he could see the beginnings of one.

He twisted the wheel again and your body flew to the left, smooshing into the console and the surprised laugh that left your mouth had his guts twisting. He wanted to hear it again. Your walls always fell when he did stupid shit like this. You were kinda fucked up now that he thought about it. Always getting all giggly when you should probably be screaming at him to be more careful for fucks sake! But you never did and he loved that about you. Just as fucked as he was.

“Hey babe, babe! This one’ll be good. Watch, watch.” He gripped the wheel again and grinded his sneaker into the gas, the first skid across asphalt was intentional, but when he tried to regain the reigns of his dark red beast it began to thrash out of his control.

Goddamn ice patch.

The car twisted, screeched and burned into the pavement for a good twenty seconds and when he was sure you should be screaming because I mean come on, that was fucking scary, he heard silence.

As the car came to a complete stop and your body was once again flung against the console, he turned to you. He thinks he was gonna ask if you were okay but he couldn’t remember because the next moment you were grabbing tufts of his gelled hair and sucking his face off.

He loved every second of it. The amount of times he’d tried to get his dick wet with you before was astronomical, but you’d always tell him no and he would pout like a dog. But hey, now you’re shoving your tongue down his throat like a dog so he settled on the idea that good things do come to people who wait.

The reason you decided to do it then was blurry. One moment his car was skidding around the parking lot and you were laughing and thinking of the chance of death and the next second it spat onto your tongue and you realized you didn’t want it anymore.

Like that first time you slid into his car, as you kissed him now you tasted contrasting flavours. Mint and cigarettes. For a moment you thought you were going to pull away, but you felt the sudden need to drink all of it. To somehow understand why you felt like you were burning from the inside.

It was his fault really. Hidan made you feel less tired, if that was a good way to put it. You started looking forward to things after you two met and eventually you actually started to feel a bit more deeply for poor crumpled man in the alley. It felt as if you’re body was being thawed out by this silver haired idiot who was groping for the clasp of your bra underneath your shirt.

So you climbed over the console, fumbling with the side of his chair to pull his seat back as you began to strip off your top in haste. You unbuttoned his jeans and slid down to the space between his leg, choking and drooling all over his cock because when you did you felt all these funny emotions bubbling in your body, you felt alive.

He was a loud mouth when you had his dick down your throat, groaning and saying the dumbest, lewdest shit his sex wired brain could think of. You know how many times he’s thought of this? You feel so good, you feel so good. God this is so good, Jashin probably loves it too... We should fuck on the hood of the car next. Long slender fingers guided your head up and down him as he began to twitch thrust his hips upwards, finally spill into your mouth. Douchebag didn’t let your head go and you felt some of his juices dribble down your tongue.

“Swallow it, swallow it while my dicks still in your mouth... Atta girl, you’re so good. So greedy..”

And you swallowed it all, he hoisted you back onto his lap and pushed your skirt up. He was whispering all this perverted stuff in your ear and your mouth fell open against his neck. Words making you flush fiercely and slowly grind your hips against him. You stopped him when he was beginning to shove your panties down your thighs, though.

For the first time you felt small in comparison to him as you met his eyes. He stopped his movement seeming like he was going to say something too, but you cut him off.

“- Hidan... I’ve never done it before.”

He stares at you all wide eyed before laughing and for a second and you think about getting out of his car and walking home because that’s such a douchebag thing to do, but then he surprises you.

“Me too, I was just about to say.. but I mean it can’t be hard right? Well, I am hard,” he laughed and you found yourself huffing a small giggle at his stupid joke, good mood returning as he continued, “I was just gonna go with what I seen in hentais.” That explained his dirty talk.

It was pretty good for your first time though. Ideally not the best place to have sex, you kept hitting your head and he couldn’t quite get his hips thrusting at a good pace with the confined space, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care because it was Hidan and you think you just might be in love with him.

That’s why you don’t say anything when a few weeks later you see “Shikamaru Nara, infamous street racer found dead in a back alley crash.” flashing across your tv screen.

You don’t comment, just give a little understanding hum when Hidan calls you and tells you he can’t pick you up tonight babe, or for a few nights, Jashin needs some repairs..

It’s why now, as he speeds through the streets recklessly with your bags in the trunk and the sound of sirens ringing in your ears that you feel tears prick your eyes. You wish you could have told him to be more careful, that he shouldn’t have done what he did without planning it. Something, anything.. it’s too late now. But he’s not to blame.

You think it’s your fault, really.

#naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #hidan x reader #hidan #the rats 900 celebration

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tfw-no-tennis · 3 years

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animorphssss.....2!

ok one L abt reading the series on my ereader is that the flipbook illustrations arent there ;_; those were my favvvvv

anyways I love animorphs still

I feel like I'll end up repeating myself a lot during these little liveblogs lmao but mannnn it’s so good. its so hardcore. like I know that that’s the whole Thing but I still get shocked by some of the stuff that happens

like a big theme in the series centers around the morality of killing your enemies - and it’s so all over the place bc in book 6 you have jake boiling a bunch of yeerks alive, which is kinda gnarly if you think abt it, but the alternative would be to leave them there and let them infest people soo...? and that’s basically the point, that there are never any easy choices in war

also I went on the animorphs wiki to look at trivia bc I love doing that and I cant BELIEVE (some of) the books were reissued in 2011 and they changed/removed some of the references to be more ‘modern’ omfg....talk about erasing 90s culture smh

likeeee I was born in 97 so I didn't exactly grow up in the 90s and therefore some of the references go over my head but its so charming and fun to have them there! and it makes sense given that the books are SET in the 90s

I don't remember ever being confused by any of the references as a kid (tho for sure a lot of them went over my head), but then again I read the books in like 2008 sooo

also some of the stuff that they change - like changing ‘recorded w/a vcr’ to ‘recorded w/the TV’ or ‘floppy disc’ to ‘flash drive’ may make more sense to modern audiences, but doesn't make sense in the context of the story still being set in the 90s

tho it is funny that the books use the phrase ‘hook up’ to mean ‘meet up’ a lot bc that is a phrase that definitely has a different meaning nowadays

alsooooo as it turns out I'm p sure I only read a couple of the spinoffs - the hork-bajir chronicles and the ellimist chronicles (which was confusing lmao), bc my library didn’t have the others :( 2007/2008 woes....

but now I get to read the spinoffs woooooooo so I read the first megamorphs and the andalite chronicles

I'm reading them in the chronological order (I think?) which is good bc part of the problem was that I read the ellimist book at a completely weird time and it confused me more lmao

megamorphs 1 basically felt like a regular animorphs book except longer, but the plot didn't feel like it needed all that extra page space tbh? even so it was an entertaining adventure

and rachel having amnesia was great, amnesia is one of my fav tropes lmao. and it was a lot of fun here, though a bit underutilized

another favorite trope of mine is time travel, so I'm gonna have a really fun time here w/that

as for the andalite chronicles, I really enjoyed that one. I thought it was a well done story about the horrors of war (which is a theme animorphs does excellently), kind of similar to the overarching story of the whole series, but fit into one book without feeling rushed

the way the story starts out with elfangor wanting to be a hero, not understanding what that entails, to the end where he IS going to be a hero, and he knows now that this is a burden rather than a reward

the horror elements are also really strong, with the taxxon morph being horrifying of course

and mannnn I loved that we got to see more of the taxxons as a species, and see that not all taxxons submitted to the yeerks - which breaks the previous theme of ‘all the taxxons are evil just because’

this book also establishes that the taxxons gave themselves over to the yeerks due to their constant hunger being unbearable, so it isn’t just that they’re evil for fun

animorphs does such an excellent job showing that each ‘side’ of a war will have good and bad (or at least sympathetic and unsympathetic) people

also loren was awesome, what a cool character. though I didn't realize she was literally like 13 until the very end of the book, holy shit. that's crazy. i thought she was 16 at the youngest....geez. her throwing a rock at visser 3 is even more iconic knowing she's a middle schooler at the time

and chapman was here! I'm assuming this must be the same chapman as the assistant principal controller... I thought it was a little strange to put chapman in that role, bc in this book he was a huge asshole basically the entire time, but in the previous (’future’) book it was revealed that he became a controller willingly only to spare his daughter, which is pretty far from this book where he’s actively trying to sell humanity out to the yeerks...people change I guess? (also he got his memory erased so I guess there's that)

alloran was a really interesting character. horrors of war again - we hear from his old buddy that he used to be a fun, witty guy, but war changed him into somebody who would do horrible things

and him becoming a controller was horrifying, obviously, but I like that alloran wasn't portrayed as some perfect, holy guy in order to make it all the more tragic when he got infested. its already fucked up enough as it is, and making him flawed was a lot more meaningful

and him wanting to flush all the yeerks out into space....oooooof the (later) parallels hurt

plus the fact that elfangor refusing to commit genocide against the helpless yeerks (even though they’re the enemy) directly contributing to alloran becoming a controller.....oof. I love that it shows that even making the morally correct decisions during war can lead to awful things happening, but not in a way that endorses evil actions - the story isn’t saying that elfangor should have killed the yeerks, it’s saying that there are no good choices in war

arbron being trapped as a taxxon was fucked up. but also really intriguing, especially how he found purpose and led a free taxxon uprising. I don't remember if we hear from him/the free taxxons again but I hope so

also the plot twist of tobias being elfangors SON...bruh. I do remember that despite not having read this book so it must come up in the main story later but my memory of that is vauge so I’m excited to see how that plays out. it’s always gonna be hilarious to me that ax is technically tobias’s uncle

and then the ellimist drops in and wacks up the time stream even more. classic. I love the crazy time travel stuff in animorphs

omfg and the bits where elfangor is a human tech guy and talked about his friends bill and steve LMAOOOOO

also the scene where elfangor drives the yellow mustang while blasting '(I cant get no) satisfaction’ by the rolling stones was one of the most iconic things I've ever read

basically I loved all the angles of war fucking people up. from loren’s dad, to alloran, to elfangor himself learning about the true horrors of war...v well done imo

ok back to the main series - so my pick for the most fucked up scene SO FAR (in my own personal opinion) - the scene where they're in the jungle and rachel passes out in bear morph and a bunch of rainforest ants start EATING HER ALIVE and like crawling into her ears and mouth and HGGGGGG that was genuinely so fucking disturbing

its a good thing that the time travel made it so rachel couldn't remember that bc that was fuuuuucked

another contender is a scene we don't actually see - erek having his capacity for violence instated and then slaughtering a ton of human and hork-bajir controllers

like damn, you know its fucked up when its too fucked up for ANIMORPHS to even ‘show.’ this is a series that doesn't pull punches but evidentially that would've been Too Much to actually portray (understandably). also i feel like seeing the aftermath/everyone’s reactions had more of an impact than describing erek killing a bunch of people would have

also I forgot that marco Literally Fucking Dies during that scene and that's why he doesn't get to see the slaughter. wow

and then in the very next book JAKE dies too. jesus

oh it was also so sad and fucked up when marco’s dad told him that he and his wife used to fight sometimes, but then all of a sudden they stopped fighting, and their relationship was basically entirely peaceful and perfect - and this is how marco knows exactly when his mom was made into a controller, bc of course a yeerk wouldn't care enough to get into petty arguments like that....ooooof

Okay and book 15 really got me...that was fucking heavy man. Geeeez. Everything w/Marco and his mom is so fucked uppppp

Like he literally has to deal with so much awful traumatizing shit. The scene where he pretends to be a controller and is face to face w/visser one and THAT HIS MOM but he can’t even do anything, and he just sees the evil in her eyes and thinks about how there’s no way she had been controlled by a yeerk that long before bc he’s never seen her look like that...that was so fucking sad.

Plus Marcos mom now thinking that Marco is a controller...aughh...and then later Marco knows he can’t even think-speak to her bc he’ll just talk about everything he’s wanted to talk about to his mom this whole time... ;_;

And the parts where Marcos humor slips and the utter rage he feels towards the situation comes through...man

Plus everything about him being understandably afraid of sharks after being nearly torn in half by one back during their first dolphin adventure

Augh oh and jake telling Marco that everyone can tell something is up bc Marco isn’t joking around and talking about how insane their plan is like usual, so Marco fakes it sand does all that even tho he’s terrified and conflicted...aughhhh

Ok and the last scene where Marco is thinking about a future where he and his parents can talk plainly about how awful and traumatizing everything is, and then eventually they’ll feel okay enough to joke about it, bc Marcos mom is the one who taught him to look at the funny side of life...Oh The Pain

There were a lot of great fucked up individual lines in this book too. I’m just so sad about these poor middle schoolers jfc

Also I do distinctly remember the scene where they collapse the shark tank at Ocean World or w/e, it was weird af reading it bc I remembered none of the rest of the book but got weird deja vu reading that scene and remembering having read it like 13+ years ago

if it’s not clear by now I have a pretty terrible memory for media which is honestly good bc then I can reread things and it’s like new

Also jake...man...I said it previously but I was kinda eh about jake when I first read these bc he’s kinda the ‘basic’ character, but now I find his story much more interesting

His conflict over being leader is really good. KAA does a fantastic job capturing the pressure he’s under bc he was chosen by his friends to be the leader, so he REALLY can’t back out, and he doesn’t necessarily feel up to it, but feels he has no choice in the matter...

And constantly having to make really difficult decisions that could get his friends killed...geez. It’s so much pressure. And he talks about wanting to go back to being a normal kid when this is all over, and it kinda strikes me as him being in denial - like, there’s no way things can ever be ‘normal’ again, but that’s his way of coping.

Especially with Tom and all that. That conflict is so compelling...jake having to play all these different roles - as leader, as a son/student, as a regular brother to Tom - he’s constantly having to act a certain way and rarely gets to be Himself

It’s actually kinda relatable in a way - that feeling of being In Charge, but in a somewhat abstract and informal way, so you feel like regular old you, but you have to carefully regulate how you act bc the people around you expect a certain standard of behavior from you...

And all the morally grey situations they’re put in are fucked up, but especially for jake who has the final say on what they do, even when knowing it could lead to his friends being killed or made into controllers

Like in the book with the cannibal yeerk guy - there’s basically no good choices there. Jake lets the cannibal live, and (at first) implies that it’s for the best that he’s cannibalizing other yeerks and therefore helping get rid of some yeerks - except that he kills their hosts too

but the alternative would be to directly kill another human being who isn't actively fighting/resisting you, which is a fucked up thing for a middle schooler to have to do

And the conflict between jake and Cassie is really excellent bc jake has to make these awful decisions, and Cassie is the type of person who can’t stand that sort of thing, so it gets left up to jake a lot, but then she’s upset with jake for doing something awful, even while knowing that there were no better options

like, her asking jake to kill the cannibal guy for her was really fucked up, but also entirely understandable for cassie as a character to ask. it was an emotionally charged situation, and cassie is an emotional person. she’s also somebody who like to Act, to do concrete good, and getting rid of an Evil Bad Guy in front of her would be a definite action

But Cassie is a great source of morality to the group - most of them are pretty jaded, but Cassie is able to hope in a way none of the rest are. It creates a really compelling dynamic between jake and Cassie that I kinda dismissed when I was like 10 or w/e

Also the scene where jake as a fly gets crushed and starts dying? Seriously fucked. And then after when he’s nearly breaking down in the airport and Cassie comforts him...that was a really good scene. Cassie is so good

And the continuity is so excellent - I love how in book 17, Cassie (and jake to an extent) doesn’t really weigh in on the moral debate abt the oatmeal bc she’s still shaken up by asking jake to murder a guy for her, and then (presumably) going ahead and lighting his house on fire when jake doesn’t kill him

And augh jake and Marco have such a good and interesting dynamic - the entire group kinda pushes each other into their respective ‘roles’ in the group, but for a few books that’s really true for jake and marco

I don't remember what book it was but at some point marco (I think) mentions that jake understands what marco is dealing with w/his mom being a controller bc of tom, but that they don’t talk about it bc they ‘don't talk about stuff like that’ or something and I'm just like noooo talk to each other :(

but at this point jake feels like he can’t really express doubt and fear and stuff like that bc he’s the Leader and they look to him to be strong (which is ironically very similar to how rachel feels), and marco feels like he can’t be serious bc he’s the funny guy.

Basically I love all the different dynamics in the group. How Cassie and Rachel are such opposites but are best friends and get along well, while Marco and Cassie are more directly opposed - as jake says, Marco is ruthless, and Cassie definitely isn’t. Rachel and Marco are also pretty different which is interesting, bc they have a lot in common, and actually agree on a lot (even if they disagree out loud) but their commonalities combined with their circumstances make them react very differently to the same situations

I also love seeing the differences between characters from each other’s POV - like, p much all the characters think that Rachel is completely fearless, but when the book is from her POV, we get to see that that isn’t true at all - she feels plenty of fear, but she recognizes that her role in the group is to be the fearless one, so she pushes aside her fear to fit into that role (which inadvertently pushes her more and more into that ‘fearless warrior’ box - something that happens to all the characters more and more as the story goes on, like jake as ‘the leader’ and Marco as ‘the jokester’).

Also I loooove the grey morality of literally everything. Like the book where ax discovers an andalite traitor - not a controller, just an andalite who betrayed them to the yeerks. This leads to the deaths of like a hundred other andalites, and that whole scene you really just feel for ax, bc he feels so awful about everyone else dying while he escapes, yet he’s also so grateful to be alive, which he in turn feels bad about...

And ax’s conflict about being torn between his home w/his fellow andalites and his new home on earth w/his friends is great

And oh man I fucking love book 19. Any of the books where it goes more into the yeerks and their side of things are so good, just like the book where jake was made into a controller.

And book 19, where we meet a sympathetic yeerk, comes right after 18, where we meet an andalite traitor - again, I love how we clearly see that no one side is completely good or completely bad

So yeah book 19 fucking slapped. That shit was so compelling. I love how Cassie made a bunch of foolish decisions based on naïve hope, but it worked out!! Things aren’t always bleak and awful!

Except there were plenty bleak and awful parts of this book. It had a great balance of moods tbh, even though a lot of the situations were extremely contrived lmao. I love the stuff that aftran says, which is basically what I was thinking when I started my reread - being a yeerk fucking sucks, you’re literally a blind slug but also completely and fully sentient, on the same level as humans and andalites - and as afran pointed out this book, the yeerks are born as parasites, just as humans are born as predators - why is it okay for the humans to kill countless animals to eat, but not for the yeerks to enslave races to act as hosts? Well, the situation isn’t totally comparable, which Cassie and Marco both point out when aftran makes that comparison - the yeerks are enslaving sentient species, and cows and chickens are not the same as the humans and hork-bajir (though the story understandably doesn’t fall too deeply into the ‘who deserves what right/animal sentience’ rabbit hole).

And I like that aftran points out that the yeerks basically have 2 options currently - stay helpless and blind in a yeerk pool, or enslave a host. It’s interesting to hear that a lot of yeerks don’t like doing this but see it as the only options, as opposed to complete sensory deprivation. It makes me wonder if there are yeerks who are so staunchly against it that they elect to stay as pool-bound slugs forever

Also maybe it’s the shounen anime fan in me but I don’t even care that much that Cassie’s entire plan was completely off the rails and hinged on only the slightest chance of success - with failure being much more likely and completely catastrophic, with the animorphs and their loved ones all being wiped out, vs success being unlikely and also achieving...a moral victory? Peace between two enemy combatants in a huge war? nothing all that concrete...anyways it was a bunch of good-faith horrible decisions on Cassie’s part, but I don’t even care? I love stories where hope and love save the day against all odds, especially when they’re wielded like weapons by a character and make everything end nicely

This is especially true here bc animorphs is generally a series that leans very far away from that type of thing, so when it does happen, it feels like a victory. Plus the David trilogy is next so we kinda need a happy ending while we can

also bc I compared animorphs to hxh last time, I now have to compare it to the other series I've (partially) liveblogged, transformers mtmte.

this is gonna be more abstract and brief but basically. mtmte is all about after the war, and everyone has so much trauma and everything just sucks, so they all go on a space cruise and work on themselves. basically.

but the series does a lot of exploration of how war fucks people up - same as animorphs, tho animorphs spans the beginning of the war (for the main characters at least) until the end, whereas mtmte starts when the war ends.

but the point is. both series do an excellent job showcasing the wide range of reactions people have to being put in unthinkable situations during wartime. all the major characters in mtmte go through arcs where they heal/change from the war, some more subtle than others

basically the animorphs needs to go on a wacky space cruise adventure with a bunch of other fucked up people and figure their shit out, mtmte style

ok this is wicked long already so I’m gonna end it here. also I feel like I should start the next liveblog w/the david triology bc I’m for sure gonna have a lot to say abt that

#i wrote like half of this in my phone notes while on vacation in the wilderness lmao #animorphs #lj reads animorphs

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just-the-mage · 3 years

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Review-Love Death + Robots (Pt 1. Episodes 1-4)

So here we are again. You, dear readers, and I, a mostly defunct tumblr page. I was thinking...I’ve written a few reviews on here before, and I’ve rather enjoyed myself to be honest. So until RP starts up again for me, I’m going to grab some popcorn and start reviewing some of the media I’ve been indulging in during this exceptionally fun pandemic we’ve all been saddled with (and are becoming increasingly more and more used to as time goes on). Here we go!

Spoilers incoming! I don’t like to discuss a show without going through it entirely-no stone unturned. You have been warned!

Love Death + Robots is a compilation series-each episode is self-contained content, based on what I have experienced thus far. The content varies wildly from cute and sweet to surreal, to horrific. For right now I’m going to stick with the first four episodes since they are fresh in my mind.

Episode 1: Three Robots

Three robots shows a short adventure shared by, you guessed it-Three robots exploring the crumbling remains of human society. It comes across as three tourists making their way through an area that they are completely unfamiliar with, attempting to define and understand elements of the environment as humans once did. Their analysis and attempts to understand not only human culture, but also basic human biology, were entertaining to say the least. Each robot has flair, character, and a their own take on humans and humanity. Over the course of the episode, the fall of mankind is referenced a few times, being initially explained as a mass extinction due to environmental disasters (global warming is probably a factor-one of the buildings has an entire ship sticking out of it). However, the twist ending throws that whole theory into question once the cat that has been accompanying the robots for the last leg of their journey reveals itself as capable of speech. And, interestingly enough...being in possession of opposable thumbs. It was certainly unexpected, and a bit odd-the cat (and its many, many brethren) manage to finish out the episode by convincing the robots that if the robots do not pet them, the cats may explode. I will say that the ending, though it was rather silly and fitting with the tone, felt like an out of place twist intended mostly to give a bit of closure to a story that had no real need to have an ending. It felt a little out-of-left field, at least to me.

This first episode, I think, is one that I could recommend to a much more general audience than almost all of the other content of the show. It’s whimsical and cute, despite inhabiting such a grim setting (and grim it is-post apocalyptic is not taken lightly here. There are plenty of corpses, some skeletal and some not quite so much. At least one of them appears to have died by suicide). I found it to be a nice addition and a good introduction to ease people into the tone of the show. Definitely give this one a watch, even if the ending sort of comes from nowhere.

Episode 2: Beyond the Aquila Rift

This episode was definitely a change of pace from the first. It begins as a high science fiction story starring a hunky, middle aged man and his two crewmates, making some sort of cargo run (?) through a wormhole of some kind, but promptly finding themselves in a completely different place from what they expected. Hunky space captain wakes up first, finding that he is greeted by an old friend (read: lover) of his, who explains that there was a navigation error that led them off course-way off course. They’re in a completely different area than they expected. The ship’s navigator wakes as well, swearing that there couldn’t have been an error in her calculations, but seems ill and is placed back in her future tech cryopod to rest. Space captain man then bangs it out with his ex-lover (Greta) in a scene that was almost definitely written by a man, and she reveals to him that she lied, and that him and his crew are actually hundreds of light-years further off course than they had thought they were, basically dashing any hopes that he could have of returning to his old life. The two then wake the navigator again, who immediately starts ranting that ‘Greta’ isn’t who she says she is. At this point, enough clues have been given that the captain catches up with the audience (it was all a simulation the whole time), and he confronts Greta, demanding that she reveal herself as she truly is. She does, after some prodding-and the captain finds himself in an infested husk of a ship, aged and haggard, obviously dying of starvation. Greta reveals herself as a lovely spider-beast, and the captain wakes up from his pod again-back in his comfortable illusion once more.

I love the premise of this one. Crazy aliens and shit like this is a huge draw for me-sci-fi horror is probably my favorite subgenre of horror when it’s done well. I would count this episode as doing it pretty well. They don’t go into much techno-babble, which I think is a pitfall for some sci-fi stories. The writers are well aware that we aren’t spending too long in this world, so we don’t need to know much about the rules under which it operates outside of ‘computer mistake your ship fly here.’ The twist ending didn’t end up being too much of a twist-in my opinion there were too many clues given throughout the episode to make it that much of a surprise that things weren’t as they seemed. The odds of this man meeting his ex-lover in the infinitesimal reaches of space just by chance were a bit too impossible to make it believable-and the navigator was far too convinced that her work couldn’t be incorrect. In the end, it was an expected twist, but still pretty jarring. Execution is pretty good overall though-and the sex scene is pretty decent as well, even if its strictly a dude-fantasy thing. Also, call me a sucker for cool looking beasties, but I adore the design on spider-Greta. That’s a lady right there for you.

Episode 3: Ice Age

The only live action episode I’ve seen so far-this one gives an *entirely* different tone than the majority of the other episodes in the series. Topher Grace and Mary Elizabeth Winstead happen upon a lost civilization that exists entirely within their refrigerator. They watch in awe as it develops incredibly quickly-hundreds of years passing within the civilization in roughly an hour or so of real time. What starts in the morning as a town in the viking ages eventually develops into a modern society, almost destroys itself with nukes, and then rebuilds from the ashes into a fully futuristic society that quickly ascends beyond physical form, appearing to disperse itself into the cosmos, no longer bound by such petty rules as the laws of physics. A disappointed Topher asks if they’ll return-to which he receives a sad ‘no’ from his partner. It seems all is lost, and the couple go to bed for the night-only to find that the cycle has restarted overnight, and they probably won’t be able to keep any frozen chicken in the freezer for quite some time.

This one is probably one of my favorites of the series so far. It’s fairly well acted, but the real beauty of the episode is getting to watch the mini-civilization develop itself in a glorious time lapse-the work that must’ve gone into it must have been monumental, to be honest. The final product certainly felt that way, in any case. What I also found fascinating was a specific scene in which the protagonists were abandoned in place of some of the tiny denizens of the lost civilization-which made me realize exactly how slow the ‘normal sized people’s’ actions must have looked to the diminutive people of this rapidly developing society. Reminiscent of the earth’s motion in relation to our own perception-and reinforcing the concept that to an individual, perception is everything.

Episode 4: Sonnie’s Edge

This episode opens with three people transporting mysterious cargo into a heavily guarded complex, quickly encountering and interacting with a ‘bigwig’ of sorts with a beautiful woman on his arm. Through context clues the audience is easily able to discover that the three (pictured above) are here for a fight-and that their cargo is their fighter, a living creature of obviously immense proportion. The bigwig asks the team to throw the fight, and they refuse, even after he offers a large amount of money. (It’s worth mentioning that during this scene, ‘Sonnie’, the leader and controller of the beast fighter, shares an EXTREMELY homosexual gaze with the bigwig’s beautiful lady friend. Don’t think I didn’t notice the setup, because I definitely noticed the payoff, even though it was rudely interrupted). Sonnie and her teammates enter the ring, setting up as it appears that she will be piloting her fighter in some way. Her opponent is also introduced, though he is hardly important in the story-imagine a cake of beef with a big sticker on him that says ‘mysogyny’ in bold print. What follows is one of the most brutal fight scenes I’ve seen in animation (this is just my personal opinion though). These creatures fucking tear each other to shreds, with Sonnie’s beast only just barely emerging as the victor, tearing the opposing fighter’s head clean from its body. The bigwig is obviously angry, as is Sonnie’s opponent, and Sonnie and her team retires to a hotel room of sorts, with the exception of Sonnie-who slips away into the room that houses her fighter, promptly encountering the beauty from earlier! (Payoff time)..and it gets gay. Fast. I love me some wlw content, and there’s some nice tension here, right up until the beauty stabs Sonnie through the head. Rude. The bigwig reveals himself, which was a bit of a surprise-the part of me that hadn’t seen much of this show yet was hoping for a fluffy little happy ending. It wasn’t to be though..after the beauty crushes Sonnie’s skull, the two promptly realize that ‘Sonnie’ wasn’t Sonnie at all-just some biotech. The *real* Sonnie...was the fighter, the whole time. Who promptly makes short work of both the beauty and the bigwig, (implied), in what I can only describe as the most satisfying moment in the series that I’ve seen thus far.

This was easily my favorite episode of the show, and has continued to be, and I assume will continue to be my favorite through the rest of the series. It’s not just because of the lesbian rep (my people!), or the misogynists getting fucking destroyed, but the strength of the reveal, the choreography of the fight scene, and the *power* of the protagonist. I love her. I love her sooo much. We are seamlessly introduced into the world, shown a woman who has been beaten, scarred, faced sexual abuse, and she remade herself into a being of pure power. She fought back, and *look how she fights back*. I cannot describe just how much of a cheer-worthy moment it was to watch the smug smile be summarily wiped from the face of the bigwig. I *love* seeing a villain who has full confidence in their victory suddenly realize that they don’t have the upper hand anymore...and that they are, in fact, absolutely screwed. This was one of those wonderful, wonderful moments, and I can think of nobody more deserving than this villain of being torn to shreds. This was an A+ episode for sure-100% recommend this one for anyone who can handle a bit of gore.

Thank you so much for reading! This is only part 1...more to come!

#ooc #not ffxiv #review #show review #tv show review #love death and robots #love #death #robots #animation #sonnie's edge #ice age #beyond the aquila rift #three robots #wlw #lesbian

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chidoroki · 3 years

Text

Head empty, pre-TPN season 2 thoughts only.

Normally I don’t even bother with hiding spoilers but since the new season is so close I’ll put everything below a cut (if tumblr cooperates) because I do want anime-onlys to enjoy the season with as little knowledge to what madness is about to happen as possible. This is just a bunch of notes that filled my head over the past couple days.. weeks? A long time.. and if I didn’t write them all down somewhere I wouldn’t stop thinking about them.. so if you understand this whole mess, then kudos to you.

So, here’s your post-season 1/ch37+ spoiler warning.

Demon language:

With Mujika and Sonju making their grand first appearances, I hope actually implement the demon language this time?

The only word spoken in the language in season 1 was the demon god’s name, which was just changed to “Him” (sub) or “The One” (dub), so ignoring it there was fine.

Granted, our demon friends don’t say much in their language during the upcoming arc, aside from this moment in ch48, but I can see the anime passing it off as a mere whisper between the two of them just so they don’t have to worry about it.

I don’t recall any of the GP poachers using the language though.. right? Pretty sure they don’t..

Anyways, all I’m saying is that they better figure something out by the Ayshe shows up way later in future seasons.

Episode count? 24?

Short answer: I don’t think so? Did once, but stuff happened. Anyways..

Season 1 ended in March 2019, which is also when we learned we were getting a second season and once we found later on that S2 was originally going to air in October 2020, I immediately thought we were getting about 24 eps.

I thought with all that time between seasons, 24 eps would be reasonable and that S2 would end at ch101. S1 managed to adapt 37 chapters, so 64 chapters in a season twice as long sound decent enough, right?

By the time we reach ch101, it would give us the demon forest, shelter B06-32, Goldy Pond and the short trip to Cuvitidala. (all of which would make this long wait for s2 sooo worth it btw.)

By this point we learn a bunch about the outside world, Norman being alive, what happened to Phil, and the demon bastard himself.

I bring up ch101 as a stopping point because it’s the last chapter before the two year time skip and.. I honestly can’t see them doing a time skip mid-season?

I mean, they could if they wanted to, I guess? Having everyone age up suddenly between episodes via a montage, a quick summary or even flashbacks of what we missed.. but maybe at the start of a season? Not in the middle.

Right now we know anime original scenes are going to be included into season 2 so I’m kinda hoping that once we do eventually reach the time skip we learn more about the search Emma’s group went on for T7W/golden water/temples.

I counted. If S2 does indeed get this many episodes, ep23 (or 22, if there’s a break in between somewhere or whatever) will land on my birthday and you can bet I’ll be beyond happy

HOWEVER! all the hope I once had about a 24ep season vanished due to the clusterfuck that was 2020. Thanks to the worldwide pandemic, many anime were put on hold and pushed back several months, with TPN airing this month rather than the original October date.

It was a bummer hearing about the delay at first but I never complained about it. I much rather have the studios prioritize their employee’s health over production.

Even if S2 did reach ch101, or even Goldy Pond, they would need to find a ton of new voice actors, and with how the world is working now.. eh, I have some doubts.

Cloverworks also has two other series airing this month aside from TPN so needless to say they’ll be a bit busy, especially if employees are still working from home, social distancing, or however they’re managing to produce these anime.

So, episode count.. 12?

The main reason I have a hard time grasping the idea of another 12ep season at all is because.. I don’t know where it’ll be a decent place for it to stop?

S1 ending at ch37 with the kids escaping? Perfect. You can’t question that decision. But now? When a whole bunch of craziness is about happen? How do you choose another perfect moment to end a season with?

No matter how many anime original scenes they have planned for the demon forest, I believe we’ll at least reach B06-32, which will get us to ch52.

Could they go farther? Sure. Perhaps ending at ch59-60? It would leave us off with Emma & Ray leaving the comfort of the shelter to follow Yuugo into yet another demon infested forest, much like how S1 left off, as the escapees left their once safe, comfortable life into the unknown world.

Or end at ch64? After Emma gets snatched by the poachers? It could work. It would certainly leave everyone wanting more, especially us manga readers because goddamn the GP arc would be SO close!

Perhaps ch74 after seeing Norman alive? Just so it’s not a big darn secret anymore to those who are going into this season blind? (how do people manage to stay anime only? i’m not trying to make anyone feel bad.. i’m just impressed? i caught up to the manga right after s1 because i didn’t have the self control to wait!)

Ending on that chapter would be so bittersweet to me.. because you know what appears in ch75 and it’s literally one of the only things I care about.

S2 preview trailers already teased some of the demon forest scenes I’m most excited about, so the only things left that will truly excite me are Yuugo and that darn outfit. (seriously, whenever we do get to see emma in her gp outfit for the first time, someone better scream at me so i can die from happiness.)

Okay, and all the GP kids too.. especially their trio!

Could they fit the Goldy Pond arc into a 12 episode season along with every other event that came before it? I.. seriously hope not?

Compared to s1, which was very dialogue heavy, GP is about as action packed as we’re gonna get in the near future, and those scenes are going to fly by once they get put into motion.

Quick example (because it was recent and i can’t think of something else atm): the Overhaul arc from My Hero Academia. Off the top my head it was about 40 total ch? That arc took up half of the show’s S4, which was a total 25 eps.

So with the GP ending at ch96, it’ll give us about 20-30 chapters (depending on where you personally see the start of this arc I guess? once yuugo leads the duo through the forest, when emma gets snatched or when the battle actually starts)

If GP were to happen in s2 where there’s 12 episodes.. literally everything would be so fast paced and I don’t want them to rush anything or leave stuff out?

Other options?

It’s very wishful thinking and I would be getting my hopes up for nothing, because I know it won’t happen, but I could possibly see them fitting GP arc if S2 was made up of 18eps?

6 eps for the demon forest, 6 for Goldy pPond, the remaining 6 to accommodate B06-32, Cuvitidala and any other anime original scenes as they wish.

Although fitting about 64 chapters into 12-18 episodes sounds a bit much.. but not really? I seriously have no idea at this point how much story we’re going to cover this season.

Could I perhaps place all my hopes towards a second cour later this year? Like for the summer.. or would I be expecting too much?

This all could’ve been avoided if they just tell us! Seriously, I’ve been thinking about episode count since last year.. and now you have to deal with this mindless chatter of mine.

I’d honestly be okay with another 12ep season though. We waited this long that I’ll just be excited to see all the children again.

Anime-only scenes:

Those 3 days the children spent learning from our demon friends? Yes please! Did you know Emma not only learned how to use a bow and arrow but a freakin’ harpoon as well? Like.. hello?? I must see this!

Perhaps they’ll even adopt some of the extra pages from some of the chapters, like they did in S1 with the flashback of Norman being sick in ep10.

I know this will be such a high hope, but I remember in ch177 how Emma claims that after they escaped, they all remembered how kind Isabella really was, so if they decide to adapt the extras from ch41-42 & ch45, I’ll cry.

And these pages? Cloverworks, please..

I’m literally begging here..

Especially these two! Even though I still doubt we’ll reach Goldy Pond if we get 12eps.. but in the future! Please!

Other random nonsense:

I may or may not get emotional upon seeing Isabella at the very start when she goes to confront Grandma Sarah. If her hair is kept down as it was at the end of S1 then I’ll give the anime staff my sincere thanks.

We only heard 15 seconds of “Identity” and yet it has been living in my head rent free ever since that trailer dropped. I need to hear the full song sooo damn badly, y’all have no idea.

Here’s hoping they don’t cut out the inner monologues again. At this moment I don’t remember any specific ones from the demon forest I want to see but I’m sure they’re present.

I’m ready to die at every cute Chris moment they give us.. and this entire scene where the kids scold Ray.

Literally every scene with Emma & Ray. They’re my top 2 favorites from this series okay? Of course I’m going to fangirl over them. (they already showed the hug in one of the trailers and i damn near cried)

If we see him, (which i’m sure we will, but i still have tiny some doubts) I hope they give Yuugo a fantastic voice actor.

Also, his nicknames for everyone!! Literally everything about that man I’m hyped for.

Again, very doubtful we’ll get GP in a 12ep season, but whenever that arc decides to grace us with its presence, “63194” better play on full blast when ch92-93 gets animated.

Speaking of music, while I’m completely excited to hear the new OST that Obata has in store for us (thank god he’s doing this season again btw!), I hope we hear some of those unused tracks from the first season, specifically “Their Own Thoughts.”

Every time Emma mentions their future, their goals or how her family will always be together, I’ll cry. (thanks demon god and your stupid reward)

Yes I’ll be doing those reaction posts (if you follow me i’m sure you’ve seen them by now) after every new episode as I do with other series I watch.. once I survive the usual long day at work, avoiding anything TPN related so I can watch in peace and quiet when I finally get home.. damn it, im already so anxious, help.

#the promised neverland #chidoroki used chatter

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sodalitefully · 4 years

Text

Rose Petals & Petty Rivalries [GNR AU, Slaxl] 🌹🌹

The Hollywood Rose is a florist, run by Axl Rose and Izzy Stradlin (in lieu of the actual owner, who never seems to make an appearance), with Duff McKagan behind the wheel of the delivery truck. Axl likes working there; he likes the flowers, he likes the quiet, and he likes how things don’t ever change: business is slow but steady, customers are as predictable as ever… and the tattoo parlor next door is still a pain in his fucking ass. Don’t even get him fucking started about how it scares off the Rose’s customers by attracting seedy thugs, or how the owner is a fucking creep that Axl may or may not have history with.

Seriously, don’t: Izzy might actually gouge his eyes out with plant clippers if he has to hear Axl’s rant one more goddamn time.

Tracii Guns opened up the L.A. Guns tattoo parlor a few years ago, and he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon, no matter how much animosity he gets from the flowerboy next door. Business is going well for once; so well, in fact, that Tracii has decided it’s time to hire a second artist.

There’s just one problem with that: There’s only one tattoo artist in LA who is both up to Tracii’s standards and looking for a place to set up shop, and that person is Saul Hudson, better known as Slash, a talented, hotshot artist who also happens to have a rivalry with Tracii dating all the way back to their school days when they first upgraded from stick-and-pokes to cheap tattoo kits.

Tracii left his mark on more of LA’s reckless youth than Slash did in their teen years, but just barely and only because Slash was often distracted by anything from BMX to zookeeping. He may have gotten a slower start to his career, but Slash’s talent as an artist is now making him a hot commodity in the tattooing community – If Tracii doesn’t grab him now, someone else will hire him soon enough, and Tracii can’t risk that kind of competition.

So Tracii reaches out and Slash accepts the job offer, but that doesn’t mean their little rivalry has been resolved. Tracii tells Slash that there’s not enough space in the tiny shop for both of their work stations on street level, so he assigns Slash the basement. Slash actually really likes the space, once he gets it all cleared out and set up the way he likes (he calls it “the snakepit” in his head), but he’s not about to let Tracii get first pick of every customer who walks in the door. Whenever he’s not with a client, Slash is hovering around upstairs, putting his art up on the walls, greeting potential customers from behind the counter, and generally doing everything he can to poach Tracii’s clients. Tracii does not appreciate his efforts, but when he’s in the middle of an appointment there’s nothing he can do to stop him.

So now Tracii has to deal with competition from his own employee (though by no means is their feud one-sided…) on top of his pissy neighbor who somehow manages to give Tracii an impressive amount of attitude while also blatantly ignoring him. Of-fucking-couse things only get worse when the two meet.

Duff is new in town, fresh from Seattle, Washington, and working two jobs to pay for his shitty bug-infested studio apartment: by day, he drives the Hollywood Rose delivery van, and by night he waits tables at a steakhouse across town. So he’s not entirely caught up on the details of Axl and Tracii’s bad blood, and comes into work one morning eager to show off his brand new tattoo.

He got it from an artist that his buddy Steven recommended. “It’s just the place next door, Axl, have you gotten any of your tattoos done there?” An innocent question, perfectly reasonable, and yet –

“…Oh. You went there?” Poor Duff did nothing to deserve the look of sour disdain that Axl is serving.

"Uh. Yeah, I got it done in the basement, seemed like a pretty neat place. Why, what’s up?"

“Wait – in the basement?"

"Yeah, Ax, Tracii’s got a new hire,” Izzy threw in, still admiring Duff’s new ink – it was well done, he had to admit. "I’m surprised you have’t seen him around, he’s pretty, uh, distinctive. Big fluffy hair, likes jewelry and leather?"

“Izzy, that describes about half of Guns’ clientele."

“Nah, you’ll know him when you see him, trust me.” Duff bobbed his head in agreement.

“Hm. What’s his name?”

“Slash. He’s a nice guy, really talented –” Duff adds, but Axl has stopped listening, and started formulating a plan.

For the past two years, give or take, since L.A. Guns opened its doors, Axl has been making a point of going to any and all of Tracii’s competitors to get his ink done, without so mach as sparing a glance at the parlor next door (not counting the occasional glowering from behind slanted blinds, or fantasizing about ramming his car into Tracii’s trash bins in the shared parking lot). But that day, Axl marches right into L.A. Guns, meets Tracii dead in the eye and demands an appointment as soon as possible – with Slash.

Tracii gapes at him for a second. The shock of seeing Axl in his shop fades quickly, replaced by an expression that broadcasts Are You Fucking Kidding Me loudly enough to be picked up by any radio antenna in a 30-mile range.

“You can’t be serious Axl. Why don’t you go back to your fucking daffodils and leave me the fuck alone, hm?"

Axl arches a brow and opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off by a tangle of curly hair and bare limbs that swoops in, shoves Tracii back, and tips forward over the countertop until his frizzy bangs are inches from Axl’s face, all in one fluid rush that Axl can barely follow.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you, Guns, so why don’t you scurry off and give us a minute to take care of business?” He doesn’t say it like a question, and he smirks when Tracii throws up his hands with a huff and stalks off to his station at the back of the room. Once he and Axl are granted the illusion of privacy, the smirk transforms into a dazzling grin, propped up on his fist as he – Slash, obviously (Axl realizes what Izzy meant when he described the man as “distinctive”) – leans forward on the tall counter, offering Axl his best “sorry about my crazy boss now how can I help you?” look.

“So, you’re interested in a consultation appointment?"

Axl belatedly realizes that he’s blushing. “Fluffy hair, likes jewelry and leather” was obviously an inadequate description; Izzy had failed to prepare Axl for Slash’s warm brown eyes, for the way the hoops in his ears peek out from his mass of soft-looking curls or the way his sleeveless shirt shows off the ink on his tanned arms... And that’s not to mention his beautifully infectious smile.

“Yeah,” Axl responds, his voice pitching up a bit against his will. “Maybe around this time tomorrow, if you’re available?"

Slash flips open a day planner and hovers his pen over tomorrow’s date. “How does tomorrow evening at 5:15 sound?"

“That would be great."

“And your name?"

“Axl Rose."

Slash pauses and glances down at Axl’s work clothes, lingering on the pin over his pocket with his first name and the shop logo. He looks back up at Axl with a bemused expression. “Axl Rose? Who are you, the mascot?"

“Hey!"

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Slash giggles then manages to compose himself. “Axl Rose at 5:15,” he pens the appointment in slanted script. “I didn’t mean to make fun… Did you do the arrangements in the front windows? They’re really beautiful."

“…Thank you.” As a tattooed florist with anger issues, Axl is in no position to stereotype, but he still wasn’t expecting to hear that from Slash. If he wasn’t blushing before, he certainly is now.

Tracii scoffs loudly behind Slash, and Axl’s pink flush is abruptly replaced by an angry, embarrassed red. He hunches his shoulders and mutters a thank you when Slash slides him business card with the appointment time scribbled on the back, then heads for the door as confidently as he can manage. This whole plan to piss Tracii off is going to backfire if he keeps getting flustered by the cute, overly-friendly new artist.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Slash calls after him cheerfully.

Slash watches him walk out the door and back towards the Rose, then finally turns around to meet Tracii’s incredulous scowl.

"You’re not really going to do a piece for him, are you?"

"Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I?"

"’Cause he’s a Grade-A fucking asshole who’s had it out for me and my shop ever since I moved in."

Slash laughs dismissively. "You’re full of shit, Tracii, he seems like a real sweetheart to me."

Tracii snorts. "Axl Rose, a fucking sweetheart?”

“You jealous, Guns?”

“Hardly,” Tracii says with a scowl. “He’s going to hate the tattoo and then use it as an excuse to give me even more shit than he already does. It’ll be unbearable around here with him bitching all the time.”

“You mean like how you’re bitching right now? You don’t know shit,” Slash declares, “because Axl is going to love his new ink and you’re not going to hear a thing from him except when he’s beating down our door to beg me for more.”

I’m afraid my ideas are getting predictable, but I couldn’t fucking resist. Tagging @fan-with-issues for chatting w me about this au, and @insipidrhyme just because.

Shoutout to Tracii Guns for once again stepping in when I want to give a side character a hard time. You’re a good sport, Trace.

#yikes it's been a month since i last posted #sodafics #slaxl #slash #saul hudson #axl rose #gnr #guns n roses #hollywood rose #tracii guns #la guns #l.a. guns #florist x tattoo artist au #and you thought I couldn't get more cliche #i've been staring at this for too long so i guess it's time to post

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marril96 · 4 years

Text

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 37: Only Ever Yours

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: It finally happens.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

You stayed on the dancefloor for an hour more, holding each other, basking in the closeness, before leaving. Your friends tried to get you to stay, but you and Rowena were adamant that you were tired.

Meg, the only one clued in on what, exactly, was going on, gave you thumbs up on your way out. A wordless encouragement that meant the world to you.

The drinks you'd consumed earlier loosened you up a bit. Your muscles weren't tense, rigid; you weren't wood on your feet, a puppet without its strings.

But still, going home with Rowena for the sole purpose if having sex was terrifying.

What if you messed something up?

What if you said or did something wrong?

What if, when she saw you — all of you — she wasn't attracted to you anymore?

Your looks were on an average scale, far below Rowena's divine beauty. You had no doubt her body looked as great bare as it did clothed; having a background in dance and working out from time to time had its perks.

Your body, on the other hand, was awful.

You weren't a dancer or an athlete.

You didn't work out.

You ate what you wanted without paying a shred of mind to the calories.

While Rowena's body was a temple, yours was a ruin in the middle of nowhere, overgrown with weeds and infested with rats.

What if she pushed you away?

What if she laughed and, stone cold, dead serious, told you to your face how disgusting you were, how sick looking at you made her?

What if—

No!

That wasn't Rowena, you told yourself.

Once upon a time she might have been cruel, but those days were long gone.

She was a different person now.

Loving.

Caring.

Kind.

She loved you.

Repulsion wasn't a choice, though.

She could love you all she wanted; if her body reacted badly to you, there was nothing either of you could do about it.

It's gonna be okay, you told yourself, trying to stay positive.

The night would go on as planned, just as the dance had, and, at the very end, Rowena would still love you as she loved you now.

Nothing would change.

Not for the worse.

Guthrie greeted the two of you at the MacLeod residence. Rowena sent him on his way, assuring him Gavin was safe in her hands; the boy had been fed and was asleep, requiring no additional care.

Just to be sure, Rowena went to check up on him while you got settled in her room. You sat down on the bed awkwardly, knees pressed together, cheeks burning with nervousness and alcohol flowing through your veins.

Your eyes fell on the sheets, on the pillows neatly tucked under them.

This was where it would happen.

By the end of the night you would be wrapped up in those sheets, bare as they day you were born, with Rowena curled up against you like a kitten.

You swallowed, hard, throat aching under the pressure.

It was going to happen.

After months of thinking it over, dreaming it up in your deepest, wildest fantasies, it was finally going to happen.

Oh, god. Jesus. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Would it be as good as you imagined?

Would it be heaven, bliss, everything magic and nice like you'd read in books and fanfictions?

Rowena knew what she was doing, you reminded yourself. If anyone could give you heaven, it was her.

She wouldn't disappoint.

"Sleeping like a baby," she said, shaking you from your thoughts.

Good.

One less thing to worry about.

"What about your mom?"

Being caught in the act by her baby brother was one thing.

If her mother were to hear anything…

You would never live down the embarrassment.

"Her shift ends at midnight," Rowena said. "I may have convinced her to take her colleagues for a wee drink after."

Of course she did. "Clever girl."

She let out a sound that suspiciously resembled a moan. "You know I'm a genius."

You knew all too well.

"It pays off to be prepared, no?"

"So you were expecting this."

Suspicions confirmed.

"I was going to give it a try." She winked. "Great minds think alike."

You blushed harder. "I guess you did that on purpose, too?"

The dress.

The hairstyle.

The makeup.

All part of a perfectly crafted plan, just as you'd thought.

Rowena smirked. "I had to give you some incentive."

She had no idea. "Oh, you gave me plenty."

If you weren't already ready, you would have been after seeing her like that.

She chuckled, a mischievous little sound that made your heart flutter.

"You're not playing fair," you said.

She raised an accusatory eyebrow, eyes settling on you, scanning you from head to toe. "And you are?"

Guilty.

"That's different. I'm not that hot."

"Och, my dear, you couldn't be more wrong." She stalked over to you, steps careful, calculated. Enticing. Her fingers brushed against your cheek in a gentle caress; you found yourself leaning into it, her skin soft against yours, a welcome comfort. "You are bloody perfect."

Far from it, but you still blushed like crazy.

Was she trying to kill you?

"Flatterer," you uttered, barely keeping your voice from breaking apart into trembles that took over your hands.

"Just being honest."

Her voice betrayed not a trace of deception.

Not that you were expecting any.

One of the many things you loved about Rowena was her honesty. What she thought, she said. What she felt, she showed. She was generous with compliments; not just in words, but in actions, never afraid to give a kiss or put on a smile that made you melt into a puddle.

You couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend.

To think less than a year ago you could barely stand the sight of her…

My, how wrong you were. How very mistaken.

Rowena pressed her lips to yours, The kiss was soft, sweet, everything you wanted and yearned for. You closed your eyes, melting into the sensation, body falling limp, a puppet whose strings she pulled. Your nerves exploded. Heart raced, pounded harder with each movement of her mouth.

Every inch of you burned, a feeling you found yourself enjoying and dreading all at once as tingles spread through you, electric, tickling.

Teasing.

They roamed your body the way Rowena roamed your mouth, explored you, taunted you before finally settling between your legs

You pressed your thighs together. Rubbed them against one another for friction.

God.

You hadn't even taken your clothes off, and you were already turned on.

"You're sure you want this?" Rowena asked as you parted.

Your lips trembled, swollen, aching for more despite knowing you would get plenty.

Patience wasn't one of your stronger suits.

"Yes." You looked her in the eyes as you said it, poured your scattered confidence into the gaze to contrast your weak voice. "I… I want you."

She had no idea how much.

Good god, she had no idea!

Rowena smiled, one of her sweet ones, the calm before the storm. "Ask and you shall receive."

"I, um…" Your cheeks flamed, this time from embarrassment. You swallowed a small lump in your throat. In a voice so small it was a wounded whisper, you said, "Rowena?"

"Yes, my dove?"

The pet name made warmth swell up in your chest. "I never… you know…"

"This is your first time?"

Her tone suggested she suspected as much.

You nodded.

"In that case, let's make it memorable, shall we?"

The grin on her face, wide, bright, told you she intended to make good on her words.

Your heart sped up again, anticipation building. "Sorry if I do something wrong."

"Y/N, please." She laid a finger to your mouth; perfectly manicured, her nail polish — a sexy, screaming red that made your head spin — shining in the fluorescent light. You wanted to kiss it, bite it. Suck on it like you did back in Branson. "You will do great. Just relax."

Relax.

You could do that.

In theory.

You swallowed. Sucked in a breath.

Yeah, you could totally do that.

"You're in good hands," she added confidently.

You responded with a small chuckle.

You were in good hands.

The best hands.

There was no one you trusted to teach you, to be your first, more.

"If it gets to be too much," Rowena said, "let me know. Don't pretend for my sake. Tonight is about your pleasure as much as mine."

"Okay," you said with a nod, appreciative of the gesture.

"If, at any point, you change your mind, tell me and I will stop."

"I won't change my mind."

You were sure of that.

Tonight was the night.

No more holding back.

Besides, this was Rowena.

Who, in their right mind, would say no to sex with her?

"I want you." You gently took hold of her hand and pulled her closer. Your lips connected with hers, locked in a kiss that betrayed your hunger, your ache for her. You wanted her; all of her, mind body and soul, right here and now. Wanted her all over you. Inside of you. "So much," you said through the kiss, eliciting a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a groan from deep in her throat. "I love you."

"I love you as well, my angel," she responded and accompanied it with a kiss of her own.

You never tired of hearing her say it.

Never tired of kissing her, of her sweet, sweet taste in your mouth that was magic and delight and everything you ever dreamed of.

How could one person be so delicious?

How could she be heaven and hell in one; virtue and sin, the sweetest dream and the worst nightmare?

How could she be so fucking perfect?

She had no right, you thought as she deepened the kiss, tongue breaking in, taking over. Making you shiver with anticipation as your mind conjured up images of that tongue someplace else, hot and wet and dangerous, your body writhing under its ministrations.

Your pussy throbbed at the visual. Excited. Overwhelmed.

She hadn't yet touched you, and you were already wound tight.

"Would you like to do the honours?" Rowena asked, voice a purr whose vibrations you could feel on your lips — your swollen, trembling lips, hungry for more, desperate like an addict craving a fix.

"W-what?" You released a small breath, then took in another one, and another in an attempt to compose yourself. A failed one for you were a mess of tingles and nerves and it was all her fault and you resented and loved her all at once.

She had no right to do this to you.

No right to control you like this, to have so much power over you with a single kiss.

"This dress isn't going to remove itself," she said, and, for good measure, added in a seductive wink.

"Oh."

Oh.

Before you could process what, exactly, she was asking of you, you were on your feet and on your way over to her. Body running on instinct, like a robot programmed to do her bidding.

A very nervous, very turned on robot.

"You sure?" you asked because — what were you supposed to ask? What were you supposed to do?

"Och, aye." It was a purr, so delicious your mouth watered and a fresh wave of tingles, hot and cold in tune with her teasing, swept over you like a downpour drenching you from head to toe.

Rowena turned around. You stood still for a few moments, frozen in place, a useless statue brimming with nerves and heat and static going off, swallowing you whole one breath at a time. When you finally dared reach for her zipper. you flinched. Her skin was hot, seething. Inviting. Dangerous. Everything you ever wanted right at the tips of your fingers.

Slowly, carefully, as if she were a dainty porcelain doll, you pulled the zipper down. The dress bloomed open, exposing miles and miles of flawless, milky skin you wanted to run your hands all over.

Laying your trembling hands on her shoulders, you asked, "May I?"

"Aye, darling."

You slid the straps down her arms, helping her free herself of them, then pulled the dress down and let it pool at her feet in a crimson mound.

You gulped, overwhelmed by the sight.

Here she was, standing before you matching bra and panties; black, lacy, sensual. A fantasy you'd had so many times come to life.

You unclasped the bra, cheeks flaming, and brought your hands to her hips, fingers curling around the hem of her panties. Still. Anxious. Not daring to make a move.

Rowena clasped her hands over yours gently. "Go on, love."

She helped you pull the lacy garment down to her thighs, then stepped out of the fallen dress, peeled them off, and dropped them beside the rest of her clothes. She shook her shoes off, the red of her toenails glittering, and turned to face you.

You barely held back a gasp.

God, she was beautiful.

Naked as the day she'd been born, she was the picture of perfection.

Her skin was flawless, not a blemish in sight aside from a small scar on her right thigh, sprinkled with freckles that covered her entire body like fairy dust.

Her breasts were small, supple; you wanted nothing but to cup them, to pinch those perky nipples until they were hard.

She had curves in all the right places and muscles that were tight, strong, making her look like a Renaissance sculpture.

A timeless beauty.

And so yours.

Every single bit of her.

The realization knocked the air out of your lungs as if you'd been punched.

God. Shit. Fuck.

She was yours.

This gorgeous, stunning creature was yours.

What had you done to deserve her?

"Like what you see?" Rowena said, smirking like the naughty thing she was.

You cleared your throat. Sucked in a small breath. "Maybe."

Very.

She let out a laugh, one of those teasy, confident ones. "You know this is all yours, right?"

Oh, you knew.

She took your hands and brought them to her breasts. They fit perfectly in your palms, and, instinctively, you squeezed them. It prompted her to smile. "All yours."

She kissed you, a small peck on your lips that left you wanting — craving, needing — more.

"Patience," Rowena said, noticing your turmoil, your face a pathetic, dirty traitor. "First let's get these clothes off you, shall we?"

Throat tightening, trapping all the words you wanted to say, you nodded.

She stepped behind you and quickly went to work, unzipping your dress and getting it off you. You shivered, more from fear than excitement.

What if she was disgusted by what she saw?

What if she hated your body — your plain, imperfect, ugly body you'd never shown anyone before?

A strange sensation on your shoulder shook you from your thoughts.

A kiss.

Soft.

Wet.

Gentle as Rowena's hands that rested on your forearms.

"You're exquisite, my love," she whispered and planted another kiss, then another, slowly moving to the back of your neck.

No, I'm not, you wanted to say. I'm awful.

You elected to keep it to yourself and instead closed your eyes and gave in to the feeling of her mouth on your skin, caressing you, loving you. Showering you with affection you'd been craving.

"My beautiful wee girl," she said amidst the rain of kisses. "So beautiful."

She helped you get your bra off, and stepped aside to allow you to pull down your panties and remove your shoes.

You faced her bare as she was, nerves popping, heart thrumming so hard you feared it would explode in your chest.

There was nothing but adoration on her face, pure, unadulterated. Wonder akin that of a child laying their eyes upon a mesmerizing sight for the first time.

She liked what she saw.

She liked you.

Exactly as you were.

And, god, you didn't think it was possible to love her more than you already did, but here you were, bursting with it.

You shouldn't have doubted her.

You shouldn't have doubted yourself.

Tonight was your night, both of yours; she would never do anything to ruin it.

She would never hurt you.

"You still in?" she asked.

"Yup."

You weren't going to give this up for the world.

Rowena grinned. "That's my girl!"

Before you could utter a response, her mouth was on yours, and you were lost in the kiss that tasted sweeter than any before.

A kiss of promise, of wonderful things to come.

Soon you were on the bed, and she was kissing you all over; your neck, shoulders, breasts, and stomach. She did things to you that you didn't know were possible. Things you'd never even dreamed of. She brought you to the edge of pleasure, pushed you over it, sent you on a high and expertly brought you down.

She was right — you were in good hands.

You couldn't have asked for better.

You tried your luck reciprocating. Rowena led you through it, ever an endlessly patient tutor. Told you what to do, how to pleasure her one little step at the time.

The night was long, and by the end of it you were both spent, laying breathless next to each other, smiles big and bright on your mouths.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Perfect," you said, having no other words to describe it. Fucking perfect!

"Well," she beamed, proud, "I am an expert."

"You are."

One with an ego, but an expert nonetheless.

You curled into her, pressing your forehead to hers. "I love you, Rowena."

"I love you, too, Y/N."

Your name falling from her lips was a pleasant melody. A peaceful, calming lullaby.

It echoed in your head as you drifted off to sleep.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #rowena x reader #my fics #fanfiction #high school au

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gothamdetected-a · 4 years

Text

an idiot’s guide to the wayne family.

now complete with new diagrams! i wish i wash kidding, ive really made a diagram to help illustrate this.

[ follow the link here for actual visible quality. thanks tumblr.]

some points to make quickly -

• this is not complete. there were probably more siblings and wives and children, but i just focused on the main lineage i could piece together from DC knowledge

• apologies for the lack of knowledge on the women in the family past the last century. this is unfortunately common in real life too, as women were not landowners etc, and without a marriage certificate they basically don’t show up on records. dc happily talk about the male line but not about the wives and daughters so :/

• the dates are fairly made up, and especially at the bottom are just me twisting things to fit my own personal canon

• and finally, i just wanted to say that while this is pieced together from what DC have told us, there are a lot of holes that i have filled with headcanons. not all of this is canon. sometimes i just want to give a person a cool life that dc are too cowardly to do.

so, although this varies by “earth”, i have tried to combine the various histories given for pre- and post-52 waynes into a full comprehensible timeline. i’ve probably failed, but this is what i’m sticking with.

to start with we’re supposed to believe that there was a norse guy calling himself the Bat-Man, running around in the 10th century killing frost giants. is it plausible? yes. is it exaggerated? most definitely. am i wiping it from existence because it was one issue in a faintly terrible run that has technically been retconned anyway? absolutely. ignoring that makes the earliest recorded ancestor of the wayne family a man called gawayne de weyne, a french crusader in the 14th century. on some earths he’s called lancelot wayne (too on the nose) or harold wayne (thanks i hate it), so im personally going to retcon that and just say gawayne is it. also because i love the etymological aspect of the name beginning as de weyne in old high french and it slowly changing through out the centuries. gawayne, also sometimes written as gevain, was one of the knights sent to retrieve the holy grail, but, as knights tended to do, he died. sorry gawayne. the weirdest part about all of this is that he asked for his heart to be embalmed, and there’s a plot line revolving around this (batman: scottish connection). now i’m not saying that madness runs in the family, but the waynes absolutely do not get a good head start in history.

gawayne must have had at least one surviving heir who goes on to have babies etc etc, and eventually we get to the 16th century, and the next instance of the waynes. specifically, contarf wayne. which, i have to say, super dumb name. if i ever have a kid, im calling it contarf. so it’s now the 1500s and the waynes have somehow become scottish, probably from getting given land after crusading and that. apparently gawayne was aknight of the scottish court, despite being french, which actually happened a lot back then. literally the only notable thing contarf does with his life is build castle wayne, and i swear these people are all born with both madness and a flair for the dramatic. yes at some point bruce does go to this gloomy scottish castle where it’s always rainy and stormy and fits right on in, so that’s terrifying.

around a hundred years later nathaniel wayne tries to emigrate across to the “new world”. nathaniel likes witchhunting, and has come over to what will one day be the US following a witch fleeing from england - annie. annie who he may have dated. annie who may be pregnant with his child. good on you nathaniel, that’s a healthy relationship you’ve got right there. after the baby is delivered, he finds her and. you know, people were not kind of witches back then, so she dies. and with her dying breath, curses nathaniel and all his descendants. which includes her OWN BABY (super punk move), and one day bruce wayne. this curse manifests in very few of the extant waynes surviving beyond 40, often going mad, and absolutely tuning on each other. nathaniel’s particular grisly end comes when his is the fateful colony that ends up in what-will-one-day-be-gotham (see my idiots guide to gotham for more juicy details), releasing the deacon blackfire from his little cave and ending up missing, presumed dead. (definitely dead). this is the start of the “waynes probably should avoid gotham” saga. spoiler alert - they don’t.

somewhere in the interluding 100 years, a branch of the waynes do actually successfully make it over into the americas. 2 brothers, caleb and thomas simon wayne, reach the east coast from britain, and go their separate ways. caleb joins a convoy heading out west, leading a wagon train, and, as so many pioneers do, he also dies, while trying to make this trip. but caleb really isnt the interesting brother here (sorry man), because what thomas gets up to is far more exciting. he settles in, lo and behold, the newly formed town of gotham, and for some strange reason (probably because all the waynes are fairly nuts, as we’ve established at this point) decides to give devil-worshipping a go. maybe its fucking curse. maybe its something in the water. maybe its maybelline. but whatever it is, thomas wayne tries to summon and ensnare the demon barbatos by killing some innocents, in a wild, but understandable, attempt to gain immortality. he doesn’t succeed. or does he. it half works - instead of summoning the bat-demon (yes the same bat-demon that the founding fathers later summon and also trap beneath gotham) he gets one of darkseid’s hyper-dimensional bounty hunters, and some how, through some space age magic, the energy of this event corrupts him into agelessness/slowed ageing, we’re not totally sure. later dear old tom pops back up as the villainous dr simon hurt, and literally fights his own descendant. DC give no fucks.

after the whole corrupting not-magic thing, but before he disappears, thomas/simon impregnates one of his cult’s disciples. a lot. (is this why the waynes can look 30 at 50? more on this at 10) and between 1747 and 1771 (because immortal people also have immortal sperm apparently), she bears him 3 sons. probably some daughters too but again, who cares about that. not DC, that’s for damn sure. these sons are all absolutely fucking insane, just like daddy dearest. the eldest, who is LITERALLY known as “mad” anthony wayne, is said to be the spitting image of bruce, which is confirmed through some time travelling bs that we’re not going to think about. anthony and horatio wayne, the middle brother, both sign up to fight in the revolutionary war. unfortunately THE CURSE STRIKES AGAIN and horatio perishes while burning british ships. anthony goes on to becomes a brigadier general, serving directly under george washington and pulls some crazy good strategies that help to kick the british out of new jersey, earning his nickname of “mad” anthony, because only someone fucking nuts could come up with these plans, and pull them off. the youngest brother darius wayne is only 4 when the war breaks out, and is therefore too Babey to fight, but does later become notable for being the man to start construction on wayne manor. in 1795, using the money inherited from his brother horatio on his death, he hires an architect nathan van derm, to begin planning and building. sadly darius will never see it completed, with funds dwindling and his older brother’s death, eventually darius takes his own life.

not to worry, he leaves behind 2 sons - herkimer and charles wayne. literally herkimer’s only notable feature is that he fights in the war of 1812. sorry my guy, DC hate you. charles, on the other hand, is a businessman, who manages the failing company his father had left behind and starts to grow the wayne fortune. charles buys more land surrounding the manor, as well as a lot of general gotham real estate, and is the man accrediting for starting wayne enterprises as a series of several small business, ranging from merchant trading to land ownership to mining, in 1845. however charlie contracts tuberculosis at the ripe old age of 62 and shuffles off the mortal coil.

the oldest of his sons, charles lincoln wayne, also known as charles junior, does 2 things - begins construction on the wayne manor again in 1855 after purchasing it back from jerome k. van derm, the destitute son of the original architect, who had been living in the bones of the construcion, and uses a considerable portion of his inheritance to build the gotham botanical gardens in 1870. the next son, winslow wayne, is another enigma - the only thing mentioned about him in the comics is that he fought alongside teddy roosevelt, which i’m guessing is in the spanish-american war. but the youngest two brothers, joshua thomas and solomon zebadiah wayne are the real spicy pair. not only do they tackle the bat infestation on the manor grounds, but the pair work to change the federal system of america - joshua, when he’s not managing the wayne companies, is an abolitionist who engages in secret missions to free slaves by getting them across the border into canada, and solomon, the vaguely more sensible of the two, becomes a judge, attempting to be as fair and incorruptible as possible. sadly joshua is killed due to his slave smuggling antics (THE CURRSSEE), and this sends solomon slightly nuts, and causes him to contract the architect cyrus pinkney, who is even more nuts, to basically. build gotham. these two men are the reason 97% of buildings have gargoyles on them.

solomon has only 1 child before he dies, who fortunately, grows up to be a very shrewd businessman capable of growing wayne ent even through with the advent of shipping and rail sectors. this man, alan wayne, constructs the original wayne tower in 1888, and it completely swamps the gotham skyline. he also marries catherine van derm, the great granddaughter of the original architect of wayne manor, and finally manage to complete and move in to the building in 1895, exactly 100 years after the project was started. for a while they are very happy, and catherine falls pregnant. but this darn curse just won’t leave these wayne boys alone, and in 1897, catherine dies giving birth to their son, kenneth wayne. a year later, lost and traumatised and going insane thinking about his wife’s death alan wayne mysteriously disappears (read as: fell down a well and was maybe or maybe not tortured and killed by the court of owls).

kenneth wayne, raised as virtually an orphan, turns out to have his papa’s business management skills, and, foreseeing america's impending industrialisation in the 20s and 30s, makes some risky moves that pay off, including the advent of wayne chemicals, and wayne ent expands yet again. kenneth, like the recurring pattern that you can see here, dies fairly early due to WW2 however, leaving his wife laura to care for their 4 sons AND the company, which she does like a boss ass bitch. seriously, women barely had the vote and she was already a titan of industry and raising 4 teenage boys like. massive props to you babe. these boys are

ishmael wayne, a whaler who is an incredible parody of captain ahab and also dies trying to catch a white whale, elwood wayne, who goes and reclaims what is now called waynemoor castle in scotland, living there until his death, silas wayne, who may or may not be a thief posing as a wayne because the real silas died, AND at long last, patrick wayne - bruce’s granpappy, who founded the wayne tech arm of the company at 20 years old, aiding the war effort, and where this stupidly long post ends, because there is 0 point in me recounting the lives of thomas, bruce, or any of his children. everyone knows them. could i write more about thomas’ siblings and the kanes and how they tie in? yes. but this post is like 2100 words long and i want to sleep at some point today so this will have to do askjdbjsdhgf

#im #this is virtually incomprehensible #\system\directory\hidden.txt ›› META #long post /

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krumbine · 4 years

Text

Explorers of the Unknown vs the Last Gift Shop on the Left

A mysterious gift shop appears overnight in a city known for weird, paranormal, and sometimes apocalyptic activities.

But it's probably no big deal.

It's just a gift shop.

Probably.

###

By all accounts, Greenville was a weird place.

For starters, the weather was always perfect. Mid-70s, optimistically sunny, and always a gentle breeze no matter how isolated you might have thought you were from the breeze. On its face, this might not seem very weird, but if you found yourself alone in a dark alley, a ray of that weirdly optimistic sun illuminating a sickly green hyper-intelligent blob of undulating goop the relative size of a commercial refrigerator, and all of your clothes suddenly decided to leap two feet to your left through a process of molecular destabilization and general telekinetic absurdity courtesy of the sickly green hyper-intelligent blob of undulating goop … trust me when I say that a gentle breeze across your exposed rear in the middle of an otherwise walled-off alley would be inarguably weird.

In the annals of Greenville weirdness, a Tyrannosaurus Rex rampaged through the suburbs, a morose zombie who couldn’t stand being undead was the key to undoing an apocalypse, a local library was infested with vampires, irrationally malevolent mole men from Mars chose a local office building basement as the teleportation entry point for an ill-advised invasion, and the local burger joint featured a talking trash can that got a binary gender greeting correct at least fifty-percent of the time.

By all accounts, Greenville was a very weird place.

One of the weirdest spots in this idyllic American city was a short strip—no more than a mile in length—of one of the main roads that cut straight through the city. The strip was densely packed with all flavors of tourist traps from the infamous never-escape-game room (really, you won’t), extreme putt-putt (you have to sign a waiver but you don’t have to pay extra for the hazard insurance), a Triassic Encounter (located adjacent the putt-putt course and you get a 10-percent discount if you buy tickets to both attractions at once; also, keep your fingers away from the cages), and everything along the strip was anchored by the Greenville Visitor Center, a small shanty manned by a crazy old man with a long white beard who did his best to convince visitors that the Never Escape Game was actually, absolutely escapable. It might have taken six years, but the crazy old man had escaped.

Or did he? Was the shanty and the strip just some kind of existential, cosmic extension of the escape game?

If you ever visit Greenville, try not to get into a philosophical discussion about reality, escapism, and ten-percent discounts with the crazy old man at the at the visitor center.

Aside from the world’s only Weirdatorium (“Uncle Al’s Weirdatorium Emporium: half-priced Tuesdays and complimentary wheat grass sno-cones for groups of eight or more!”) the really weird thing about the Greenville tourism district were the gift shops.

While most people are familiar with the exit-through-the-gift-shop trope, wherein the gift shop naturally grew from the local attraction and existed to support said attraction (example: Uncle Al’s Weirdatorium Harmonium, a Greenville exclusive) the weirdness of Greenville caused a new strain of gift shop to evolve. These new gift shops no longer required a host attraction and in some places, you could even find gift shops that were located at the exit of other gift shops.

There were only three total scientific experts who had spent any time studying the gift shop epidemic and two of three traced its roots to the Greenville tourism district. (The third scientific expert traced the epidemic to Orlando, but his research was later dismissed as thinly-veiled propaganda for a certain rodent-based entertainment empire.)

In short order, the Greenville gift shop epidemic escalated to the absolutely terrifying point where one of these weird, monstrous, free-standing garish gift shops mysteriously appeared on a lot that had been completely empty just the day before.

Greenville was a very weird place, indeed.

Doors slid open and a series of melodic notes played underneath a generic, cheery song that almost sounded poppy, but every third and seventh note seemed to be off. Three figures stood inside the entrance of the gift shop. The one in the middle wore brown slacks with a matching buttoned dress vest. He pushed a pair of black-framed glasses up his nose as he surveyed the first floor of the gift shop.

An overly cheery gift shop employee: “Hello, welcome!”

The employee drifted away leaving the three people to themselves.

“Let’s try and keep this clean, boys,” Jordan said. “Recon only. Assess the situation, establish any paranormal parameters, keep a low profile, and get out. It’s probably just a gift shop, but I see no reason we can’t collect our minimum fee on this.”

On Jordan’s right was his brother, Jason. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket. Strong features and a stronger chin. He wore his hair long and in a ponytail because manly men have pony tails.

“First of all, you literally just repeated everything you said in the parking lot, like, thirty seconds ago,” Jason said, eyeballing a display of Greenville, USA! shot glasses with custom names. “Secondly, it’s called standard operating procedure for a reason. You don’t have to treat us like children.”

Jordan was temporarily impressed with Jason’s grasp of ‘standard operating procedures’ not because his brother was particularly stupid (although it was well-established that Jordan was the brains and Jason was the brawn of this operation) but because Jason usually lacked the patience to grasp anything of substance.

“I think it’s safe to say we know what we’re doing,” Jason said with a smirk. His eyes darted to one of the shot glasses. “Ooh! This one has my name but they spelled it wrong!”

Jason grabbed the glass that had ‘Jayson’ printed on it. The glass came from the lower end of the display and dozens of shot glasses promptly collapsed and shattered on the floor. Jason shifted awkwardly, looking up from his misspelled shot glass.

Jordan sighed.

To Jordan’s right: “My money’s on a government conspiracy,” Chris said while rubbing his chin, eyebrow arched. He was tall, lanky, and had short-cropped platinum blonde hair. Chris wore athletic shorts and a form-fitting t-shirt, an outfit designed to allow for a maximum range of flexibility. “My guess is that the government probably setup the shop overnight as an economic stimulus.”

Jordan was confused. “An economic—”

Chris shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like everything we do has to involve the end of the world,” referring to the countless times the world had ended during one of their paranormal investigations. It was a trope.

Jason squinted, not unlike Clint Eastwood. “Sometime’s a gift shop is just that …” Jason paused dramatically.

The three paranormal investigators silently looked at each other as Jason squinted and wiggled his eyebrows in a fashion he no doubt assumed was suspenseful.

It wasn’t.

Another long moment passed and Jordan decided Jason was finished.

“Let’s spread out—”

“—a gift shop,” Jason finally said through gritted teeth. In his normal voice, and quickly: “Sometime’s a gift shop is just that, a gift shop.”

“You done now?”

“Yeah, that’ll do.” Jason tossed the misspelled shot glass in the air and caught it, placing it daintily on the shattered display. “So we’re clear, though, my money is on this being a waste of time.”

“Waste of time or not, Milton Cranstead is still paying our minimum fee.”

“I’m not sure I’d trust the crazy old man at the visitor center to pay for a free lunch, much less our fee,” Chris said.

“Also, serious question,” Jason said gravely before his tone shifted completely, face scrunched like he just sucked a lemon wedge. “Can’t we do something a little more fun?” he whined.

“Your idea of fun is punching things,” Jordan replied.

“Your point is?”

Jordan sighed and mentally reset. “Chris, see if you can’t poke around the second floor. Jason, you’re on perimeter. I’ll run the spectroscopic analysis for trace ectoplasmic particles and we’ll meet back here in ten. Easy money, fellas.”

“Can I say one thing?” Chris asked.

“No.” Jordan pulled a smartphone-sized gadget with a large antenna from his back pocket.

“Government conspiracy.”

“Guys?” Jason asked flatly. His attention had been pulled to the interior of the gift shop.

A new voice from behind the boys. It was deep and mesmerizing, not unlike Patrick Warburton. “I can categorically deny that this is not a government operation. Not even a secret one. Yeah. I would know.”

“Guys—”

Jordan and Chris spun on their heels (Jason still transfixed on something else). A tall man, broad shoulders, dressed in a black suit stood behind them at the entrance of the gift shop. The man’s appearance was not unlike Patrick Warburton.

“Agent Bob!” Chris exclaimed and promptly enveloped the man in a hug that was all arms and a little leg. “Holy popsicles, dude, the last time we saw you—”

Agent Bob attempted to extricate himself from Chris’ embrace. “Mongolian army. Viscous ooze. Some really bad female character development.”

Jordan shrugged. “We learn, we grow.”

Agent Bob eyeballed the three very male paranormal investigators. “Mmh.”

Chris unwound himself and grabbed Agent Bob’s shoulders. “Wait a sec––you’re saying this whole gift shop thing isn’t one of yours?”

“Nope. I’m here same as you,” Agent Bob said. “My guys need to know how this place just showed up overnight.”

Chris’ eyes went wide. “Well, this just got interesting!”

Jordan’s handheld ectoplasmic spectrometer pinged a worrisome note.

“Guys!” Jason yelled.

Two paranormal investigators and one secret government agent turned to look at what Jason was fixated on.

What appeared to be the entire staff of the gift shop had gathered at the front of the store. They looked normal enough, wearing a standard uniform of green slacks, white polo, and a green vest with a shiny white badge pinned to the breast that simple read ‘Hello!’.

“Hello.”

“Welcome.”

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

The greetings echoed eerily across the gathered staff and that was when Jordan noticed the first really weird thing about the people who worked at the gift shop.

Both their eyes and their grins were a little too wide.

Agent Bob squinted. Less Clint Eastwood and more distressed Patrick Warburton. “… I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah. Maybe the crazy old guy at the visitor center isn’t so crazy after all.”

Jordan gulped. He had noticed the second really weird thing about the gift shop employees.

The didn’t have feet. It was hard to notice at first, as if something inside him was refusing to acknowledge the abnormality, blurring it out in the periphery of his vision. But when he focused, Jordan could look down and see that none of the employees had feet. Their legs tapered down into a single, sinuous, green and yellow-veined protrusion that rolled backwards to an unseen location.

“Welcome, hello.”

“Hi, welcome.”

“Hello.”

The gift shop staff shifted—nope, strike that, they straight up undulated—and Jordan noticed the final really weird thing: there was no individual gift shop employee—they were all tentacles of a much, much larger creature.

The handheld ectoplasmic spectrometer buzzed and then began issuing a series of alarm bells.

Chris pulled at his arm to stretch his shoulder. “So much for it not being the end of the world.”

“Hey now, we don’t know—”

“Jordan!”

“Okay, fine.”

Agent Bob reached into his inside coat pocket. “Definitely not government.”

“Hello, welcome, hi.”

Jason grinned. He was going to get to punch something after all.

###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jordan Krumbine is a professional video editor, digital artist, and creative wizard currently quarantined in Kissimmee, Florida. When not producing content for the likes of Visit Orlando, Orlando Sentinel, or AAA National, Jordan is probably yelling at a stubbornly defective Macbook keyboard, tracking creative projects in Trello, and animating quirky videos with LEGO and other various toys.

Leave a dollar in the Tip Jar: https://ko-fi.com/krumbine

Short stories: https://bit.ly/2XY5D7I Books on Amazon Kindle: https://amzn.to/3bsqK5Y YouTube: https://bit.ly/2W41nSG Twitter: https://bit.ly/2VH0Vbu Facebook: https://bit.ly/2VpnylZ LinkedIn: https://bit.ly/2xnmk1e

http://www.krumbco.com

#writeblr #short story #paranormal #amwriting #writing #weird stuff #giftshop #krumbine #jordan krumbine #gift shop #tourism #tourist #weird #exit through the gift shop

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Laws of Motion / Chapter 1 (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Summary: “Every object persists in its state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed on it.”

A/N:

Hi. Hello. How are you? Welcome to another crazy idea that came to my mind and have no clue where it’s gonna take us! Wooh! Usually I’m not a big fan of crude smut thrown at you right from the start, yet, here we are haha so, if that’s not your cup of tea, you can just skip that part once you reach it, there’s no other impact on the story other than it happened. Hope you enjoy the ride. Thanks for reading! -Monkey

AO3 Link

Laws of Motion

Chapter 1 - Pink.

The music was loud.

More than hear it, Katya could feel it.

She could feel the waves of sound pulsing all through her body. She could feel her blood running through her veins to the rhythm of the unfamiliar song. Her eyes were closed as her ears filled with the blaring noises of the club, clashing and mixing together. Her arms were up in the air as she allowed her mind to go blank. Her body responded to the movements dictated both by the music and the hands of the stranger holding her hips.

She could feel the man’s fingers digging into her flesh, but she didn’t mind. She could feel his semi-erection against her ass, but she didn’t care. She liked it. She liked the fact that she was utilizing him. Right in that moment, he was nothing but an object to her. He might as well be a wall she was slamming her body against while dancing, he had as much importance. His reaction to the way her body moved was all she was looking for. She liked that power. Taking advantage of that power, of the symbolic grip she had on the guy, she turned around in his arms. Her hips pressed hard against his. She could feel him through her tight skirt. If there hadn’t been clothes between them, they could very easily be fucking already.

She knew that.

He knew that.

His stare told her as much.

That was the only reason why she turned around and walked away. He called after her but she didn’t listen. One of her hands went up in the air, dismissing him completely. He really had nothing else to offer her.

She made her way through the crowd. The dance floor was completely packed and she loved to feel the pressure of hot bodies against her own, even if it was just for a second. The only problem was, it was too hot and she was sweating. She needed a break.

With a little bit of trouble she managed to step away from the moving bodies, and went to find her friends. They were all drinking and dancing in the little private area. That particular booth was permanently reserved for them. That was the type of privilege they got for being regulars at the club. The seats of the small round tables were not always filled, but that night was a special occasion.

“That was quick. Did you fuck him already?” Violet swung her long ponytail from one shoulder to the other. Her dark hair shone with the fluorescent lights blinking behind her.

Katya laughed at her assumptions, her head shaking in disbelief. “You are rotted!” And that was all the attention she dedicated to the matter.

She went around the circle, pretending to give lap dances to those sitting down, and watched them get shit-faced as she sipped from her tall glass of Coke. She felt happy, she felt alive, she felt completed. There were no visible cares in the world. All the people that mattered to her the most were right there, in that stinky booth, having fun and enjoying themselves. If only things could stay like that forever, or at least for a little bit longer, but they couldn’t. Because time waited for no man, nor woman, and life went on, leaving behind whoever wasn’t ready to catch up.

Suddenly, she noticed the bucket in the center getting empty, when it had been filled to the rim with beer bottles not so long ago. Placing her fingers between her lips, she whistled in the direction of the bar.

Her eyes caught a girl sitting alone on one of the stools. Her hair was blonde, flat-ironed, and parted in the middle. It went all the way down to her waist, creating a remarkable contrast against the bright pink dress she was wearing. Her shoulders went up and down at an erratic pace, not really following the beat of the song.

The bartender whistling back took Katya out of her trance. She shook the empty bucket, the remaining ice cubes rattling inside. No other explanation was needed and the bartender sent a waiter her way, to retrieve the bucket to be filled again.

Her eyes were glued to the girl during this entire time. She watched her fingers rapidly tap against her phone, probably sending text messages that she was going to regret in the morning. Her head hung low. She was most likely crying. Her long fingers wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle, and she seemed to down it all in one swing. Katya had to guess it hadn’t been completely full; the girl didn’t look like the type that could drink an entire bottle of beer at once.

A waiter finally approached her, new round of beers in his hand, making her stop her observations. For the time being, she forgot about the girl drinking alone at the bar, and she concentrated her attention on making sure everybody had a drink in their hands.

It wasn’t necessary, but she couldn’t miss the chance. She drank the last bit of her soda and made her way through the crowd again.

“Hey, Bob!” Katya approached the bar, the empty glass high in the air. “Oops, sorry. I touched you.” She apologized when she felt her arm bump against the person on the tall stool. The girl simply looked away, hiding her face behind the curtain of straight hair. “Another one, please and thank you.”

Bob took the glass from her hand and reached for a new can of Coca-Cola. “Coming right up!”

The process was simple, but took the bartender enough to give Katya time to analyze the blonde girl. She still wouldn’t look in Katya’s direction, which gave her the freedom to shamelessly scan her up and down. She was cute. Really cute.

Bob finally gave her the long glass back, filled with ice cubes and bubbling soda.

“You are the best.” She flashed her biggest smile his direction. “Put it on my tab, and, please, give Depressed Malibu Barbie over here a double of whatever she’s drinking,” she said as she turned around to leave.

She heard a loud ‘I’m not…’ coming from the girl but Bob quickly cut her off.

“Just take the drink.”

Without looking at them again, Katya made it back to her friends. She stepped on the cushions of the booth, holding on to someone’s shoulder for balance.

“Hi, yes, hello. May I please have your attention, you dirty whores?”

Everyone around her stopped what they were doing. They turned to look at her with amusement on their faces. Nobody knew what to expect, but were perfectly aware that there was not one time that Katya didn’t make them laugh with her speeches.

“Thank you, thank you. As you know, Miss Ginger Minj over here, AKA female Danny DeVito, AKA Tony Soprano, AKA…” She had to stop mid-sentence, laughing hysterically at her own words as everybody else chuckled slightly. “AKA my best friend and partner, decided to abandon us all and get an early retirement.”

She exaggerated a face of disappointment, only as a cover-up for the real sadness that had invaded her for months. Ginger had recently gotten married, and she was the happiest she had been in her entire life. It didn’t surprise anybody when she let them know she was leaving, wanting to dedicate her entire attention to her husband and the new life they were about to start.

“You will be greatly missed,” Katya continued with put-on solemnity. “Luckily, your BO will linger around the halls forever.” There was one more pause as she recovered from her own joke, before she actually turned serious. “Come on, now, raise your glasses and join me in the celebration of the one and only, the multitalented, the incomparable, the often imitated but never duplicated, Ginger Minj! May her smoker’s breath continue to infest every room she ever walks into, may her big juicy ass only grow bigger and juicier, and may that new husband of hers fuck her so hard every night that she can never walk straight again.”

There was a round of laughter as her friends lifted their drinks to her words.

“To Ginger!” She ended loudly, making the people around her to repeat in unison. The words were followed by the sound of bottles and glasses clinking with each other.

She got down and hugged her friend. The smile was still on her face when she turned around in the direction of the bar again. The mysterious girl was looking at her, or at them, probably their toasting had called her attention. Katya wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was intrigued by the girl, hiding behind the heavy layers of makeup that made it impossible to even look at her eyes.

Katya would later learn that her name was Trixie, that her heart had just been broken, and that she tasted sweeter than any other girl that had ever ridden her face. For the time being, she was reduced to a sad woman, drinking alone at the bar, wearing a pink dress and too much makeup.

It was very unusual of Trixie to be doing so, she had to admit as much to herself, but the circumstances called for it. The rough and sudden shift in her perfect little life didn’t seem to have any other solution but to drown it in alcohol.

She had been there before. She had been hurt by a man before, but never like this. This time it felt different. She wasn’t even sure why she had such strong feelings about it. Things had been good, but there was no reason for her to be destroyed about the end of her relationship.

Her finger unlocked the phone, even when it didn’t show any new notifications. She went to the messaging app and opened a specific conversation. It could barely be called that, if she was being honest. Nothing but blue bubbles appeared on her screen, filling up the right hand side of the unilateral discussion. The smiley emoji wearing a cowboy hat, followed by pink hearts and sparkles, at the top of the screen, suddenly made her feel sick.

Drunk texting was never a good idea, she knew as much, she was smart enough to know that. The pressure in her chest, the pain in her soul, and the alcohol running through her veins, gave her enough courage to type yet another message.

Thank you for teaching me what true love ISN’T.

She backspaced the entire thing, deleting the message and starting over.

You just made me realize how much I don’t need you.

That was a lie. She did need him. She did miss him. Or at least she missed how it felt to be loved by someone; but that was a feeling that had been gone for some time now. They had lived miles and miles and hours apart, but they had been able to make it work. She would visit him every other weekend, and he would take a trip down to meet her whenever he was available. Through many phone and FaceTime calls is that they had made it possible to stay together even when being apart. Trixie had to wonder if that was the reason why they lasted so long, because they didn’t really see each other. If she had to put together all the days they actually spent together in the course of so many years, they wouldn’t sum up to more than a few months.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed the button to lock her phone again.

No message was sent.

She looked around instead, noticing for the first time how loud the music was. She had been immersed in her own pathetic little world that she had taken no regard on the people partying behind her.

The spinning of the stool was enough to make her dizzy, she decided to sit still, like she had been doing the whole night, and asked for another beer.

The tall man behind the counter, Bob, looked at her with a side grin. “Girl, don’t get me wrong. I’m from New York. I’m all about getting plastered and then riding the train home at the same time that people are going to work.” He laughed at his own words, taking the empty bottle from her hand. “Are you sure about that drink?”

“Oh, my God! I’m so glad you asked!” Trixie’s sarcasm was not missed by the bartender who laughed wholeheartedly. “Yes, I’m sure about that fucking drink.”

The beer was placed in front of her, then a bottle of water landed right next to it. “Meet me halfway?” The guy asked with the same shit-eatting grin.

Trixie rolled her eyes, but took the cap off of the water bottle anyways. “I’d really appreciate it if you stayed away from my business. Thank you.”

He lifted his hands in surrender and moved along to serve other customers. No other words were said. For a moment, Trixie was sad the interaction was over. She had finally been given a distraction from her own destructive thoughts and she had pushed it away. All she could do now was watch the bald man as he laughed and handed out glasses filled with liquor. Trixie wondered if he was giving them a hard time as well, if he was always protective of his customers or if he had felt pity for her. She was drinking alone, and visibly crying, after all.

That had to stop immediately.

She drank the entire water bottle at once, not really realizing how much her body needed it until the first drops touched her tongue, and stood up. With the phone in her hand, she made her way to the bathroom. Walking was a struggle, and her high heels were not helping. Maybe she was, indeed, drunk.

She entered the last stall of the row. Her body felt heavy as she sat on the toilet. Her elbows landed on her knees and she let her head drop to her hands.

As Trixie was receiving the epiphany that she needed while peeing, on the other side of the club Katya felt claustrophobic. There were too many people in the small space with the extremely low roof. The room felt hot and air was not circulating enough. Ironically, she knew that the thing she needed to be able to breathe at peace again was a cigarette.

She stepped outside and the warm breeze hit her face. It was as much as she could ask for a LA night and she took it gladly. Up until that moment she hadn’t realized just how sweaty she was. The belt around her waist was too tight, making it even harder for her to breathe normally. She liked her top, and was grateful for picking something see-through. It allowed air to flow and her tattoos to show, but the feeling of mech against her arms and torso was itchy. She could feel every piece of clothing sticking to her skin. It wasn’t a nice feeling but it was one that she was rather used to.

The calming effects of the nicotine worked wonders right away. She could feel her lungs expanding as they filled with smoke. Her thoughts immediately stopped racing and a sense of utter peace enveloped her whole.

She kicked pebbles with the tip of her shoe. One arm was wrapped around her waist, the other one finding support on it to place the cigarette to her lips. Everything around her was quiet. And she liked it that way. She could see the cars driving on the street, their lights bright enough to reach her all the way at the end of the alley.

Her peaceful moment was disrupted by the back door of the club opening roughly. The girl from the bar walked out, her steps stomping hard against the pavement as she walked with alcohol induced confidence.

“That’s right,” she said to the phone glued to her ear. “I am walking to the dumpster right now. I am taking the key out of my purse,” she narrated her every move. “If you don’t say anything right now I will throw it in there, and you will never see me again.” There was a pause, which clearly didn’t give her the answer that she was looking for. “Fine. It’s done. Bye, see you never,” she assured as the small piece of metal landed on trash bags with a small thud. “I guess you don’t love me after all.”

Forcefully, she pressed the red button to end the phone call. She turned around and spotted Katya for the first time.

“Ex-boyfriend?” Katya asked, respectfully blowing smoke in the opposite direction.

Trixie nodded her head. “Ex-boyfriend’s voicemail, to be exact.”

Katya smiled, throwing the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. “You are too hot for him anyways.”

Her eyes grew wide open in surprise. “How do you know that? You don’t know him, or me.”

“But I have eyes, and I can see you are hot, Barbie doll.”

“Trixie, my name is Trixie.”

“Nice to meet you, Trixie. Say, do you feel like dancing the depression away?”

The girl extended her hand and Trixie took it, allowing the total stranger to pull her back inside. She didn’t realize, but Trixie never got the girl’s name. It didn’t seem to matter then, not when their bodies grinded together and the music did all the talking. The name was going to be a big deal in a few hours, though, when Trixie’s orgasm was going to rip her to pieces and she was not going to know which name to scream in delight. Right that instant, however, it was irrelevant.

Trixie allowed Katya to press her body against hers, to let the song that was playing loudly from the speakers to provide the necessary words to fill up the space around them. It felt good. It felt nice to have soft skin brushing against her own. It felt electrifying when nails dug on her flesh. It felt hot when the perfectly round ass rubbed against her crotch.

Hot.

It was hot, both the room and their dance. Katya was a complete mystery and an enigma. She would whisper silly nothings into her ear, making Trixie laugh with joy, and, at the same time, use her body to set Trixie’s on fire. She had never felt like this before, so free, so careless, so turned on. Trixie knew her heart was still torn into a million pieces, but the thin girl exploring her body with her hands, was melting her in such a way that the broken parts seemed to glue themselves back together.

Everything around her was spinning, and Trixie didn’t seem to find another anchor that it wasn’t Katya’s body crashing against her own. She became the gravity center that she needed. And the pull was so strong that Trixie couldn’t help it when she suddenly found herself pressing her lips against the other woman’s. This was something completely new to her, but the feeling was so amazing that she didn’t want to deprive herself from it.

Katya smiled for a moment, moving her lips to Trixie’s ear. “You are drunk, bitch.”

The new position only allowed Trixie to plant a kiss on Katya’s neck, never stopping the swaying of their bodies. “So are you, so what’s the problem?” she said against her skin. She simply couldn’t stop herself. She wanted– she needed more of her. “Wanna get out of here?”

Katya pushed her away, just enough to look her in the eye. “Are you sure? You may regret this in the morning.”

“Are you really that bad in bed?”

Both looked at each other for a moment, before erupting in uncontrollable laughter. Katya was the first one to recover her voice. “I’ll grab my stuff.”

“I’ll get us an Uber.”

The car drive was made in silence. Katya had enough conscience to leave some space between them in the backseat. Trixie had been drinking, a lot. Katya wanted to give her that time to sober up and think if that was really what she wanted. Trixie seemed to be doing just that. Katya observed her from the far end of the seat, kept a close eye in the way she looked out the window, the city lights making the glitters on her face shine bright. It was a beautiful sight of a beautiful girl.

Trixie was completely aware of Katya’s eyes on her. She liked that feeling. Something in the bottom of her stomach had been set on fire, and the heat spread all the way down to her most private area, making her throb with desire she had never felt before. It was new and interesting and she couldn’t wait to explore the feeling some more.

She turned around abruptly, expecting Katya to look away and pretend she wasn’t watching her, but she didn’t.

“Are you one hundred percent sure you wanna do this?”

If there was any trace of doubt in Trixie’s mind, the sincerity in Katya’s eyes made it fly out the window. “Are you kidding me? Yes, of course I am.”

They both held their stares for a moment too long until Trixie extended her hand, taking Katya’s and interwinding their fingers. Still holding hands, they walked inside the apartment building. It wasn’t until they were inside the elevator that Katya even tried to make a move.

Still holding hands, they walked inside the apartment building. It wasn’t until they were inside the elevator that Katya even tried to make a move.

“Come here, Mamma.”

Trixie did as she was told. With a side smile on her face, she moved to stand right in front of Katya, towering her. Each of her hands flanked Katya’s head as she leaned forward, pressing her lips softly against hers. It wasn’t a kiss, not really, it was a tentative move, almost as if they were testing the feeling under these new circumstances. There was no loud music or sweaty people dancing around them. There was nobody but them in that small metallic box, space that kept feeling smaller and smaller the longer they kissed. Because the elevator was not big enough to contain the immense waves of desire that washed over them like tsunami tides.

The door slid open with a ding, revealing their own image reflecting on the mirror across from them. They looked a hot mess. Katya stared at herself, at the mascara creating dark circles under her eyes, where it mixed with the liner that had already ran. Her hair was gone beyond the point of no return.

If she had gotten into this state, just by dancing, she couldn’t imagine how she was going to look like walking out of that apartment, all fucked out by the real size Barbie doll dragging her through the narrow hallway.

They stopped by the door with the letter F on the front. Trixie pulled her closer, her lips once again meeting Katya’s as her hand fished the key in her purse. Doing both things at the same time proved to be too difficult for her, but she didn’t stop either. She allowed her mouth to continue devouring Katya’s as she pushed the key into the knob. Her tongue was running against each of Katya’s teeth when the front door closed with a bang.

“You need to take off your shoes,” Trixie informed her between kisses. She turned around and found stability on the wall in front of her, trying to kick off her high heels.

That was when she felt Katya’s hands on her ass. “I think you need to take off your panties.”

What happened next, Trixie felt in slow motion. Her eyes closed when her dress had been moved up. Katya’s finger hooked on the sides of her underwear and she pulled it down her legs. Trixie’s hands were planted on the wall, holding on for dear life, when she first felt Katya’s tongue against her center. Her legs spread by themselves, giving Katya more access. Her back arched, as she forcefully pushed herself against Katya’s mouth. She pressed her front hard against the wall, just because her upper half needed some attention as well.

Nobody had ever eaten her out like that.

Nobody had made her legs feel like rubber with simple touches like that.

Nobody had brought her so near an orgasm within the first few seconds like that.

She could have been softly moaning, she could have been screaming loudly, she didn’t care. Except that, when a particularly loud moan escaped her lips, suddenly something came to mind.

“Oh, my God. Kim!”

Katya smiled against her thigh, kissing it softly, and speaking against her skin. “Oh, so you wanna role play?”

“No, you stupid.” Trixie stood up straight, reluctantly moving away from her spot, away from Katya’s hot lips. “Kim is my roommate. I don’t know if she’s ho–” She couldn’t even finish her sentence when she fully looked at Katya, kneeled down right next to the front door, mouth and chin wet, both with saliva and what Trixie could only imagine was her own arousal. She bit her lower lip, her want increasing by the second. “You are so hot.”

Katya took Trixie’s extended hand and allowed her to pull her up. Katya let her take the lead as Trixie kissed her roughly one more time, forcing her to walk backwards and guiding her towards the bedroom. Their lips never parted until they reached the last door at the end of the small apartment.

Trixie walked inside and turned on the light on the bedside table. Suddenly they were surrounded by nothing but pink. The shade on the lamp was bright pink, bright enough to almost drown the different shades of the same color around the room. The pillows, the sheets, the comforter, and even the picture frames on the wall, were all pink.

Her observations stopped once Trixie entered her space again. “I want you so bad,” she whispered so low it barely reached Katya’s ear. But she heard it, and she took the invitation happily.

She reached down and took a hold of the hem of Trixie’s dress, pulling it up and above her head. With deft fingers she found the hooks of her bra and Trixie put her arms down so it could slide off of her. There she stood, one of the most amazingly beautiful girls she had ever seen before in all her naked glory. Her breasts were full, and her small waist provided the perfect contrast for her fleshy hips. She pushed Trixie on the bed, making her land softly against the mattress.

Without even thinking about it, she knelt down between her opened legs again. She could tell Trixie was not expecting to have sex that night, which turned Katya on even more. She ran her fingers through the slightly uneven pubic hair until she found her entrance. The first finger entered with ease, making Trixie’s hips buckle up to the touch. Katya moved it around in circles, preparing the girl for the second one, which she took without a problem. When the third finger found its rightful place inside of Trixie, Katya made sure her mouth paid attention to the delicate bundle of nerves as well.

Katya fucked her with her fingers and her mouth for what felt like an eternity. The scream-like moans falling out of Trixie’s lips were enough to make her feel close to the edge herself.

Just when she felt Trixie’s walls clenching around her fingers, everything stopped. Trixie pushed herself up, propping herself on her elbows. “Can I sit on your face?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Katya replied with a smile.

She stood up, removing her belt in the way. Her top found the floor right after, and Trixie helped her unzip her skirt and toss it to the side.

It was now her turn to lay her back on the mattress. Trixie’s thighs flanked her head and she couldn’t wait to have her again. She stretched her neck and gave her a quick lick. Trixie giggled and held onto the headboard, asking her to wait until she was ready. Katya couldn’t. She reached up and caressed Trixie’s breasts as her tongue entered her over and over. The mixture of sensations had Trixie reaching her orgasm almost immediately. Trixie’s legs gave out and she literally sat on Katya’s face, her thighs sending her to a blissful state of suffocation. Even that wasn’t enough to stop Katya, she continued licking her, sending electroshocks through her already sensitive body.

“I want to taste you,” Trixie said after a few seconds, her body was still recovering from the earth-shattering orgasm.

Katya didn’t protest. She saw how the girl started a trail of kisses down her body, dedicating extra time to her breasts. Nobody had to tell her, Katya knew Trixie had never been with another woman before, she could tell by the way she bit on her nipples, the way she unskillfully sucked on them. That was the reason why she paid close attention when Trixie’s face got lost between her legs. She wanted to see her reaction, which was just how she expected.

“You know, you don’t have to do it if you don’t like it,” Katya said with a reassuring smile.

Trixie’s face relaxed from its contorted state. “No, I do want to.”

No other word was spoken. Katya closed her eyes to the feeling of wet tongue and hot lips. Turned out the girl was pretty good at it. Her tongue went up and down and around, in patterns of a few seconds that already had Katya losing her mind. Her hands took a hold of Trixie’s hair, trying to find anything that could ground her to her Earthly surroundings. She truly felt as if she could touch the sky in that mere instant. It only took one hard suck from Trixie on her most sensitive spot to have Katya screaming out her name. Her hands pressing Trixie’s face against her core so she wouldn’t move from her spot.

As soon as she relaxed, Trixie moved up to lie down next to her. She wrapped an arm and a leg around her, and Katya had no energy to move her away.

“Will you stay the night?” Trixie asked, kissing her shoulder. Her eyes already closed from exhaustion.

Katya didn’t reply, because she couldn’t. She couldn’t stay the night. She waited until Trixie fell asleep to extract herself from her embrace. Katya found her clothes scattered around the floor and turned off the small lamp. Walking out of the room, she got dressed by the front entrance. When she put on her shoes, she spotted the pink thong she had rolled down Trixie’s legs and picked it up. She stuffed it in the pocket of her jacket as she exited the apartment, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, and giving this crazy story a chance. You seriously have no idea all things I have planned for you. Expect the unexpected. As always, would love to hear what you think.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #violet chachki #ginger minj #bob the drag queen #smut #exploration of sexuality #lesbian au #dendenmonmon #submission #laws of motion

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my-miraculous-headcanons · 6 years

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Pokémon AU

Honestly this is just... your standard Pokémon AU. Because I love Pokémon. And I love Miraculous Ladybug. So obviously... I had to mash it together.

MARINETTE’S TEAM

• She’s had a Ledyba since she was a three year old. It only finally evolved into a Ledian shortly after she began her Pokémon journey at the age of 13. It’s name is, obviously, Tikki. Tikki is the Pokémon she always starts with.

• Marinette’s “starter” Pokémon, the one she received from Professor Fu, is an Igglybuff. She affectionately names her Ballon. Eventually, Marinette finds a moon stone while traveling up a mountain through the caves, and evolved Ballon into a Wigglytuff.

• Marinette snatches a Feebas out of the hands of one horrible Chloe Bourgeois after hearing her mouth off about how “hideous” and “disgusting” it is, despite how “hard” she worked at “trying to make it at least look mildly presentable.” It’s holding a prism scale, and as soon as Marinette comes into possession of the poor thing, it evolves into Milotic. Chloe’s loss.

• Marinette captures an Oricorio and promptly falls in love with its ability to change types and appearance with different nectars. She stocks up in as much nectar as she can, all different types of it.

• Marinette and Mimikyu clicked the moment they saw each other. The neck of its disguise was broken, and Marinette offered to fix it, and maybe make new disguises for it in the future.

• Marinette ended up getting adopted by a Shroomish. She doesn’t know how it happened, considering she accidentally sat on it when looking for a place to rest in the forest, but it apparently took a liking to her after she apologised. It evolved into Breloom way too fast— mostly because it kept bursting out in the middle of battles in order to fight instead of any other Pokémon she was thinking of choosing.

ADRIEN’S TEAM

• Adrien had an Eevee growing up, which evolved into Umbreon in the middle of the night one day when he was 8. His name is Plagg, and he’s Adrien’s most trusted companion, even if the little booger is grumpy as hell.

• When Adrien moves next door to Marinette, he’s invited by Professor Fu to claim a starter Pokémon. He chooses Cleffa, naming her Étoile. Adrien is given a moon stone from his father right before he officially starts his journey, but he waits a really long time to evolve Étoile after it becomes a Clefairy. In fact, he only evolves her after he got all his gym badges.

• Adrien finds a Riolu egg while traversing through the mountain caves. You’d think he’d act like a father or something, but after it hatches, he treats it more like a little brother. He aggressively asserts his role as the “big brother” when Riolu evolves, though, because “it doesn’t matter if you’re taller now, I’m still older!”

• He comes across a Litwick in an abandoned, probably haunted mansion, and nearly dies in fear. The thing was on a warpath or something, it made damn sure to scare the living daylights out of Adrien. It found it immensely amusing, and decided to stick around. When it evolved into Chandelure, it had even more power to pull off even worse pranks.

• He accidentally steps on a Wimpod while walking on the beach and has to take it to Nurse Joy. He decides to train it until it turns into a Golisopod, and ends up treasuring his new cowardly friend.

• A Honedge one day wraps its sash over Adrien’s arm out of nowhere, and in a panic to not have his life energy literally get sucked out of his body, he threw an ultra ball at it. Since he didn’t weaken it, he expected it to break out, so he was running away until... He realised it never broke out. And that’s how he found himself stuck with the thing that he’s pretty sure tried to kill him. It acts civil now but.... he’s not letting it out of its ball at night, that’s for sure.

ALYA’S TEAM

• Alya has never had a Pokémon before, but she’s always trying to run into the tall grass to capture one herself. She had only just moved in, but everyone quickly picked up on Alya’s dangerous habits, so Fu invites her to claim a starter Pokémon of her own. Alya chooses a Vulpix, who she names Trixx.

• Alya likes to run into trouble, that’s already established. That means her team should be built to counteract that danger, right? Except... she doesn’t use brute force. She wants to be able to get into places she really shouldn’t be able to. Enter Kecleon. The ultimate invisible agent.

• On that note, enter Zorua, soon to be Zoroark! Being completely invisible is one thing, but being disguised? An illusionary mastermind? Totally different, and just as useful.

• She realises there’s more than simply tricking the human eye, of course. She also needs to be able to knock out anyone in her way, and without them noticing... The answer comes to her in the form of a Jumpluff infestation. She handles the situation before officer Jenny arrives, and gains a companion in the process. Those sleeping and paralysis spores are going to be useful in the future.

• When going through the same haunted mansion Adrien passed through, she finds a new addition to her team real quick— a mischievous Rotom. It makes a home in her phone, and she can’t bring herself to mind. Especially when it takes over the voice app and starts spouting jokes.

• The last addition to Alya’s team is an Absol. She hadn’t originally planned on it, but looking back, she doesn’t understand why she hadn’t thought of it. After seeing it show up just before a major catastrophe struck... She knows she needs a companion that can sense an impending disaster.

NINO’S TEAM

• Nino had overslept the day he was supposed to pick up a starter from Professor Fu. By the time he got there, there was no more starter Pokémon. Marinette learns about this quickly, and suggests that Professor Fu could... possibly give Wayzz, the old Turtwig Fu had never evolved, to Nino? Surprisingly, Fu agrees.

• Music is life for Nino, so it’s a no brainer that the first Pokémon he’s drawn to after he sets off on his journey is a Kricketot. He captures it without a hitch.

• While traveling through the mountain caves, Nino comes across a whispering sound somewhere in the tunnel, and he finds a Whismur. He thinks it’s adorable, so he captures it. It’s less adorable when it turns into a Loudred. And even less adorable when it becomes an Exploud, but at that point, he loves it too much to care.

• He accidentally catches a Ditto under the belief that it was a Houndour. He... doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t release it though— if anything, Ditto’s now a valuable part of the team. Plus, it can transform into drums or a pair of headphones if he needed it. Thanks, blobby dude.

• Nino befriends a lone, singing Lapras at the beach one day, and ends up taking them with him on his adventure. He likes to use its singing voice in a lot of his songs.

• He caught a Wailord. He hadn’t meant to, like, seriously catch it. He dropped a regular Pokéball off the side of a ship he had been traveling in while the Pokémon passed under, and... it worked. He caught a freaking Wailord.

RANDOM STORY POINTS

• The region is being overrun by a criminal organisation called Akuma, run by a man who calls himself Hawkmoth (or Papillon.) It’s fairly new and only really started forming after the kids all set out on their adventure. The group’s goal is to capture Jirachi, for reasons unknown.

• Marinette starts off her adventure before anyone else, mostly because she was previously working under Professor Fu as an assistant. Professor Fu studies the inner power of Pokémon, such as their types, and what fuels their abilities.

• Despite working as an assistant to Professor Fu, Pokémon research is more of a hobby of Marinette’s than a full-time job. (Although, she certainly treats it like a very serious job despite claiming it’s a hobby...) Her real passion is fashion, and contests! Her and Tikki can win any and all contests imaginable, you’ll see!

• Adrien also has a love for contests. He’s used to putting off this stiff image in day to day life, but during contests, it’s expected of you to go all out. Get emotional, get aggressive, get competitive, get crazy! Joke, laugh, shout, dance! He loves everything about it, and when he’s performing, he truly feels like he’s... himself.

• Alya aspires to become either a journalist or a member of the police force. She dreams about herself being an Interpol agent, sometimes. She really loves those dreams.

• In an effort to fulfill those dreams, she’s pretty much constantly putting herself in danger in order to get ahead of the program. If she sniffs out any criminal activity, she’ll be snooping around the mafia’s secret headquarters before they even attempt the crime they were planning.

• Nino mostly just wants to be a DJ, but he doesn’t mind writing music for contests and musicals. If anything, he’s excited about watching Pokémon perform and dance to the music he created. He likes to make custom tracks for Marinette and Adrien’s performances.

• Yeah so... Gabriel is the villain once again, but since this is the Pokémon universe, you know he’s probably not going to be permanently locked up for his deeds. (Seriously, why did Lusamine and Lysandre and Maxie and Archie just... w h y.)

• Gabriel is after Jirachi in order to wake it up and claim a wish— a wish to bring his wife back. And he will stop at nothing to acquire this wish, including slipping butterfly pins onto people and brainwashing them into doing his bidding. Yeah.

• Contests in this region are huge. Arguably considered more important than even gym battles or the Elite Four. Which is why everyone is given the option to perform... completely anonymously. Wearing masks.

• Yeah that means the whole messy love square? Whoops, sorry, still exists.

• During a contest, Akuma crashes the party and literally breaks through the walls, declaring to transform everyone in the stadium into an Akuma. Luckily, Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t simple performers— they’re Grade A trainers and they’re ready to whoop your ass. You picked the wrong day, butterfly man.

• In the end, Ladybug and Chat Noir save the day like a pair of actual superheroes. Their popularity shoots through the roof, everyone ships them, everyone admires them, everyone simply just loves them. It’s a little overwhelming.

• Of course, purple butterfly man takes this as a sign of war. Marinette and Adrien rise to the challenge. They start wearing their masks outside of contests as well, when they’re foiling the plots of the Akuma. Sometimes Marinette or Adrien... forgets the mask, but it’s usually passed off as just a (weirdly capable) fan trying to help out. (Which causes even more ship wars— Ladrien! Marichat! Noooo, Ladynoir, the OTP!)

• Alya, of course, prides herself as being the best investigative journalist around. (Y’know, despite being a literal 13 year old.) That means she follows these new superheroes around like a predator— she’ll get her scoop no matter what!

• Unfortunately this means that Alya’s the one who finds out their identities first, then promptly outs them to each other under the assumption that they already knew... which they didn’t. They didn’t know, Alya.

• #Ladynoir and #Adrienette confirmed, now

I still have,,, so much to write on this, but it’s already gotten way too long, and I’m too tired at this point to give it more thought. So, for now, I’m just gonna post what I have. I might make another post later detailing more on Alya and Nino’s lives, and maybe even Professor Fu, and definitely more an the Akuma and Gabriel, but for now... This is it.

Tell me what you think, add your own points, etc etc, hope you liked this! Sorry for the long post! (Yikes this took me hours.)

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