#the original idea i had in my head was significantly less... close contact but then i looked up couples dancing pose refs on pinterest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Hey again! I know I just asked for one and I don’t wanna be bothersome, but I saw that Raymond Tango is on your list and I was hoping I could get an imagine with him and maybe Gabriel Cash as well?

Something like the reader works at the prison where they end up and helps them out when they’re jumped? Or whatever scenario you can think of 😁 Please add a lot of flirting if you can

I actually watched Tango and Cash and the Expendables because of your imagines 😆 And I’ll probably keep discovering more awesome movies thanks to you!

I also had an idea for Rambo where the fireworks on the 4th of July trigger his ptsd and the reader is there to comfort him? (It was Canada Day today so there were fireworks in my hometown to celebrate and I got the idea for it 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Thank you so very much!!! 💕

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like this!😊❤

Tip-Off.

Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash)

Warnings: injury, swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun use

Masterlist

Finally, I manage to fling the door open, the thick metal clanging loudly as it slams against the wall, announcing my arrival to the room behind it. Gritting my teeth, I crash through it, yelling out to the inmates I know are gathered there, my standard handgun held at the ready. I hate to use it, but I know very well that many of the people turning to face me won't move unless threatened by something a little more dangerous.

The room is lit with a drab light, keeping most of the thugs' faces cast in shadow as they turn towards me, shouts of surprise and panic filling the air. As if startled by a ghost, the lot of them suddenly retreat into the darkness, doors banging open and shut around the perimeter, many of them cursing loudly as they clear out. Frowning, I move further into the room, shouting at them hoarsely, my head rotating quickly to make sure I'm not being ambushed by any of them. Thankfully or not, they disappear quickly, leaving me alone in the deserted area with two familiar people hanging by their necks from the ceiling above large troughs of water. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the water is electrified, a sparking cable lying a metre or so away.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?! Don't just leave us hanging here, kill us or let us down! You shitbrains!" I groan in realisation as I notice exactly who is hanging from the ceiling, the two captives facing away from me.

"Are those my only options, or would you rather I tried to get you down?" I call out to the only one of them who is actually moving, walking round to face them.

"Huh? Who're you?" It's Raymond Tango, the one still writhing on his hook. His partner, Gabriel Cash, hangs listlessly, head drooped, blood dripping from his lip.

"The reason you're still alive." I frown, tapping Cash's foot.

"Oh, it's you. Feel like helping me down?" Ray stares at me, fear still bright in his eyes as he shifts in his bindings.

"Don't sound too grateful. I just saved your ass." I roll my eyes, but move to start helping him.

Going closer, I ignore the dark-haired man's expectant expression, bowing so that I can heave the troughs of water out of the way, first. It isn't easy: the containers weigh tonnes, their contents sloshing all over the place as I brace my shoulder against the battered steel, muscles straining to dislodge them. A grating screech sounds from the base of the troughs as they rasp along the hard ground, but I eventually manage to get them clear, panting by the time they're significantly out of the way.

"Ok, this is probably gonna hurt a bit." I warn Ray, before going over to the knots at the end of the ropes holding them up.

"What is- argh!" The detective yelps in surprise as he drops unceremoniously from the ceiling, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor.

I leave Gabe's line for now, going over to help Ray up as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. Untying him, I check him over for any particularly bad wounds.

"Couldn't you have done that a little less painfully?" Ray grumbles as he moves to sit upright, wiping away blood from his nose, groaning.

"Sorry, next time I'll bring a mattress." I roll my eyes again, "You'll live. Now help me with Cash."

"Can't we just leave him there? He makes quite a nice light fixture." Ray jokes dryly, climbing wearily to his feet.

Shooting him a pointed look, I try to ignore the small spike in my pulse as I regard the dishevelled detective, not for the first time admiring his chiselled good-looks. Swallowing down the idle thoughts, I move back to the end of Gabe's line.

"Catch him, will you?" I tell Ray, loosening the knot, Cash's limp body dropping ever so slightly as I do so.

"The lump'll crush me!" He complains, but goes to stand underneath him anyway, reaching up to brace Cash's thighs with a grimace.

"You know, your jibes would have much more effect if he were awake." I smile wryly.

Ray doesn't say anything, but sends me a quick smirk anyway, knowing I'm right.

Turning away, I untie the knot completely, looking back to see Cash fall onto Tango, his torso rocking precariously as the latter struggles to hold him up. Rushing over, I reach out, arms outstretched as the two start to fall, Gabe landing heavily in my grip, throwing us all to the floor. We land heavily, a dull pain erupting in my back from the impact.

Winded, I lie there, Gabe on my chest, Ray on his rival's stomach, breathing heavily as we try to recover. Against me, Gabe shifts slightly, moaning in his unconsciousness, making me force myself to sit upright, his head now in my lap, Ray still trying to catch his breath on his back. Looking down at the man on my thighs, I brush aside some hair from his face, swiping away a little blood from his lip, glancing up to see Ray staring at me, jaw tight. Confused, I go to say something, my brow cocked, only to stop when a pained voice trickles up from between us.

"This isn't what I expected from the afterlife." Gabe murmurs, eyes barely open as he gazes up at me, licking his dry lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cash." Ray jumps in, pushing himself back up.

Frowning, Gabe lifts his head, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again, the sharp response clearly struggling to materialise.

"Come on, let's get you untied." I chuckle, moving to shift out from under the detective in my lap.

Gabe groans, whining as I roll him over, Tango reaching over to loosen the knots of his ties. Once free, he lazily tries to return to his original position, only to complain when he finds out I've moved. Now standing, I look down at the two with a fading smile, quickly becoming serious as I think back over the gravity of the situation. The two notice, joining me in standing, Gabe rapidly adjusting his clothes as Ray wipes blood from his lip.

"Whoever set you guys up has a serious problem with you two." I muse, scratching my chin in consternation.

"Wait, you believe us?" Ray sounds surprised, his rival regarding me with a similar expression.

"About what?"

"The setup."

Glancing at him, I tilt my head.

"Yeah, of course. What, you thought I was one of the bribed guards? After all the tip-offs I gave you both?" I shake my head in exasperation.

"Pretty dumb, if you ask me, Tango." Cash comments, smirking as he runs a hand through his hair, betraying his nerves.

"And who didn't listen to the tip-offs?" I tease him, grinning as Ray sends him a pointed look.

"Hey, I've had a lot on my mind!" Gabe protests, before he conspiratorially rakes his gaze over me, "A certain someone in particular."

Blushing, I wave him off, muttering a quick "behave" before gesturing for the two detectives to follow after me.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Ray hisses to Gabe as they limp along behind me, a scoff following this as we reach the door I came through.

"And you think you're better? Come on, man, I've seen you staring at her when she does her rounds. Your cellmate practically has to wipe the drool from your chin."

"I'm not deaf, you know." I sigh, leading them into a side room, where a desk and few chairs have been pushed to the wall, a couple of pieces of equipment sat neatly where I left them.

The two men enter behind me, frowning at the sight of the small room, confused by its purpose. Naturally, Gabe is quick to recover and goes straight to one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning back in it, head tilted back so that his mane of golden hair falls down between his shoulder blades. Ray eyes him disdainfully, only to take a seat near him, running a hand through his own hair, muscular arms flexing as he does so. It's a struggle for me to keep my eyes averted from them both as I go to the table in the centre and take out my first aid kit, opening it to check inside.

"Ok, who's first?" I finally look up at them both, my cheeks warming up as I am met with two intense stares, neither looking away as I make eye contact.

"I'll go!" Gabe interrupts Ray before he can speak, hopping up and coming over to me, leeching on the table with a grin.

Shaking my head, I take some gauze and start to clean out the worst wounds he received, which I soon find are not particularly bad, so I move to check that he's not concussed at all. Removing a small penlight from my keys, I hold it up to his face, placing a finger under his chin to level his head properly.

"Ok, stare straight ahead." I tell him, not quite realising why he's smirking until I realise that he's decided to stare straight at me, blue eyes fixed on mine. Shaking my head, I once more ignore the blush on my cheeks as I check if his eyes are dilating properly, quickly moving to check his response as I move my hand in front of his face. Thankfully he seems to be ok, everything working as it should be.

"All done." I tell him, placing the penlight down on the desk beside him, glancing back up in time to see him leaning in. Surprised, I have no time to react before he's pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, the blonde smirking as he hops off the bench, eyes glittering mischievously.

Ray makes a sound of disapproval, glaring at Gabe as his rival steps past, muscles tensed up as he tries to fight back the (very) obvious jealousy. Quickly, he takes Cash's place on the table, looking at me gratefully as I start cleaning up the wound on his head. His dark eyes don't leave mine the entire time, unnerving me a little.

"So what do we do now?" He eventually asks, voice low as I stand close to him to make sure the cut is properly dressed.

"You guys need to get out of here." I muse, chewing my lip as I work, "It's just how we're gonna do it that's difficult."

"We?" Gabe sounds hopeful, though I can hear a little jealousy in his tone. This confuses me, until I realise why: Ray has gently placed a hand on either side of my waist, most likely under the pretense that he needs a hold to ground himself.

"Y-Yeah, we. I don't think you two will make it out without help." I tell him, calming my nerves as my pulse picks up, swiping the gauze over Ray's head once more before taking up the penlight again.

"And you're offering? Won't that lose you your job?" Ray questions, surprised at what I've said.

I sigh, standing back upright once I've checked his eyes.

"If I get caught, yeah, it will. At least it'll be for good reason." I shrug, stepping back out of Ray's grip, somewhat reluctantly.

Taking advantage of this, Gabe steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on my lower back. Unused to this kind of affection, I look up at him, expression somewhat blank as he speaks.

"You're sure about that?" He queries, searching my face for hesitation.

"Yeah, I am. What happened to you two wasn't fair, so I think it's good if you get your revenge." I nod firmly, glancing back at Ray, who smiles at me, "Look, I'll come up with a plan as soon as I can. For now, you two need to try and stay alive."

"Easier said than done." Ray murmurs, but agrees nonetheless.

"For you, we will." Gabe teases, tapping my chin with a grin.

#tango and cash #Ray Tango #Raymond Tango #Ray Tango x reader #Gabe Cash #Gabriel cash #Gabe Cash x reader #Sylvester Stallone #Kurt Russell #break writes #Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash

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yelenasdog · 4 years

Text

talk to me? (spencer reid x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: cold nights and warm coffee can be so compelling.

words: 2.2k

warnings: mentions of having intrusive thoughts and spence being insecure, reader and spencer sleeping in the same bed. that’s all i can think of, lmk if there’s anything else!

a/n: yo! so uhhh i kinda love the start of this and dislike the end of it, but idk i think it’s still pretty snazzy!! also SPENCER IN GLASSES HAS MY HEART ok bye enjoy!!

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It was the type of cold where no matter how brightly the sun was shining, you could still feel the fresh molecules of coolness linger on your skin, hiding under the tip of your nose. It made horribly irritable little dry patches that would have to be remedied with some form of lotion, but that wouldn’t quite return back to complete normal until the end of the winter time.

But despite this, Y/n and Spencer were out and about, doing their jobs in total normalcy.

Minus being stationed in France, that is.

Although it was rare that the BAU was called overseas, Emily had needed the team’s help, and who would they be to decline a trip to the beautiful France, no less to see Prentiss as well.

So after a grueling day of blood and bad-guys, the pair made their way back to their Parisian hotel room, walking (quite wobbily, Y/n would add) along the cobblestone walkways, both of their boots clicking loudly against the rain coated stones.

It was ironic, as Spencer had attempted to wear his converse, but was denied by a worried Y/n, hearing her say “You’re going to get those things soaked, and you’ll freeze your toes right off, Dr. Reid!”

And as not to disappoint the girl, never wanting to see her mood turn as gloomy as the French sky, he complied begrudgingly. Though Y/n could swear she always saw a hint of a smile at her telling off.

Spencer was also advised by her to wear his contacts, to avoid the fogging up of his readers, but he refused, not wanting to bother with said contacts. He grew to regret that as he walked, every so often and reaching a large hand up to wipe his glasses, almost like the wind shield wipers of the bug that had been driving them around.

He chuckled at the not so distant away memories, thankful for the girl and her requests, as it turned out.

The hotel was far different from the usual dingy motels the team usually occupied when traveling, that was for certain. This one happened to be a master suite with ivory walls and silky sheets, quite opposite from the thin and scratchy yellowed covers they usually made do with.

And even though It was early in the day, the mixture of odd sleep schedules and just the heavy weight of sleepiness pressing down heavily on their shoulders, they opted to go to bed at the oh-so late time of 1:37 PM.

Daredevils, those two are.

Ignoring the first bed by the door, Spencer made a beeline for the plush queen size mattress he knew Y/n and himself would be sharing in an effort to cuddle up for warmth, sinking down into it. (After removing his shoes, of course.)

He was originally donned in just a grey Caltech shirt and some blue pajama pants, but due to the chillier weather (that he couldn’t quite seem to shake despite the thermostat in the hotel room being turned up to 76) he layered on a maroon MIT hoodie, one that he was aware Y/n would try to thieve from him, perhaps even sneaking it back in her own suitcase.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom in pale green shorts and a large and worn Led Zeppelin shirt, earning a very confused stare from Spencer. She simply shook her head and continued on her way over to the large window that was currently projected bright streams of melted gold through the glass, that would have been heated if it wasn’t for that damn cold.

“I get warm when I sleep, it bothers me.”

He nodded, watching intently as she opened and shut the blinds a few times, soft krrrrs and clicks sounding through the room as she did.

“You doing alright?” He asked, his eyeline never faltering. She turned and he picked up his copy of “A Farewell To Arms,” something she had been the one to reccomend to him, ranting on and on about Ernest Hemingway and his precious 6 toed cats.

It was one of Spencer’s more realistic goals in life to take Y/n back to Key West to visit the Hemingway House, after her having said a childhood trip there was one of her happiest memories.

He quickly flipped to a random page, not wanting her to catch him being what he considered to be creepy, even though Y/n thought it was quite adorable.

She bit back a giggle and a smile, settling on leaving the window half open half closed. She padded over to where Spencer was, laying back onto what she imagined a cloud would feel like.

She reached over, taking the blue colored book from his hands and his thickly rimmed glasses off from where they were resting on his perfect button nose.

She smiled to herself fondly at the items in her hands, particularly at the novel. She placed them on her bedside table (why hers and not his, Reid wasn’t too sure, but also was not going to complain), and then moved to slide between the slick tightly-tucked sheets.

“Our options were A, not be able to sleep because of Mr. Sun being out right now, or you freezing to death because Mr. Sun was blocked totally by the curtains.”

He looked over at where she had been messing around with the heavy drapes.

“I see you went in between.”

She smiled graciously, which Spencer returned immediately.

“That I did.”

A few more awkward moments of silence (not including the occasional yelling and honking from those riding on motorbikes below) passed, before she finally settled into the sheets.

She turned to the side table to her left and tugged on the chain of the old timey lamp. The room went quiet, but the pair’s minds were anything but.

Y/n’s head was swimming in intrusive thoughts, while Spencer’s was a hazy cloud of self deprecations and his own voice keeping him awake, staring at the painted ceiling.

“Spence?”

“Mmhm?”

“Can you talk to me?”

Spencer’s brows furrowed. He shifted around in the creme sheets of the bed, finding a cold spot quite quickly.

“What do you want me to say?”

Silence.

“Anything.”

She turned over to now be facing the lanky boy, their noses nearly touching. She held her breath, sucking in a bottom lip.

He looked to her eyes, to her lips, and back to her eyes again, quickly gathering a list of things to ramble about.

“Well,” he began, “Paris was originally founded in the 3rd century BC, and was a Roman city called Lutetia, and to prove it, there’s even remains of Roman ruins in the capital. And speaking of monuments, in total, there are 1,803 of them, and 173 museums in Paris alone- Y/n?”

To his surprise, Y/n’’s idea had worked. Spencer looked over to see a sleeping Y/n, a peaceful expression resting upon her features.

He smiled at the idea that he had played some role in that, closing his own eyes. The cloud that was previously keeping him from long awaited slumber was now a light film, nagging at the back of his head quietly.

He simply told the voice to quiet down and was then able to lull himself to sleep, Y/n’s presence calming him to no end.

It wasn’t until 8 hours later that they had woken up, first Spencer, followed by Y/n. She peeked open her eyes, pleasantly surprised by the lack of light shining through the curtains.

She wiggled around, stretching from her neck down to her toes. Spencer smiled at this, finding her resemblance to a cat who had been sunnapping, quite endearing.

She moved to her side, placing a hand under her chin to get a better look at the Doctor who was nearly finished reading her copy of “A Farewell to Arms”.

“Did you at least mark my spot?” She asked, voice raspy from sleep.

He scoffed, flipping to and then showing her the bookmarked page of the story.

“What do you think I am, a monster?”

She chuckled, sitting up next to Spencer.

“I mean, I don’t know, sometimes it seems like it”.

He rolled his eyes, setting down the read and hopping out of bed.

“What are you doing, Spence?” She asked, not amused in the slightest by the idea of having to get out of bed.

“We are going to get coffee.”

She shook her head of messy hair, the wispy bits flowing around her like a halo in the hotel room lighting.

“You can go get us coffee and bring it right back over here, alright? Thanks, you’re a doll.”

He did that thin lipped smile that seems to be his equivalent of a smirk, grabbing a hoodie from the inside of his suitcase that was perched on top of a dresser.

“Come on, we’re going on an adventure. Use this and the idea of coffee as an incentive.”

He tossed her the hoodie, the jacket landing by her feet with an audible plop.

She loudly groaned, shrugging it on and pulling herself out of bed. She also managed to tug on some jeans and an overcoat, as well as her boots, shaking her head at Spencer’s lack of preparation for the cold temperatures, as always.

“Spencer, I am not about to go to this and have you complain about being cold the whole time, put on your coat, please.” She gestured to where it was hanging in the closet with her hand still concealed by her trench coat’s pocket, her eyes shutting and her head lolling to the side.

“If you insist.”

“Yes I do, put it on, lets go.” She said drawing out the “o”.

Spencer’s eyes widened and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “My apologies, good morning to you too.”

She only rolled her eyes and smiled, opening the door to the room and leading the way.

By the time she had found a coffee shop on Yelp that she had deemed satisfactory, (which was extremely difficult due to the language barrier) the time had passed even later, and the temperature was even lower.

The lights on the streets sparkled, reflecting in the puddles of the water that lined the asphalt. Y/n was quite enchanted by the little light shows, slowing the journey to the shop significantly. Spencer didn’t mind, though, he enjoyed every second he got to spend with her to the absolute fullest, and found her fascination with every part of life inspiring.

When they finally reached the quaint little coffee shop, they walked inside, finding refuge in the warmth of the establishment.

Spencer ordered for them, and Y/n found a table (as that’s what they always did, taking turns between ordering and scouting a place to sit).

She located a cozy little corner by a window, a perfect place to observe those who bustled about at night, watching them and coming up with back stories, whatever they may be.

She enjoyed doing that, it made her believe she had a better understanding of the world around her, why those she works on catching every day behave in the manner they do.

And what better place to do so than Paris?

So she flagged Reid (who now was in possession of the two drinks) over, taking hers from his hand.

“Latte with two creams and 4 sugars for the lady.”

She smiled graciously, allowing the heat of the cup to spread through her system.

“And what did you get? Let me guess, a shot of espresso with 12 sugars?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit she was more correct than he had hoped.

“Ha ha, very funny, Y/n.”

She smiled over her small mug, quirking a brow.

“Oh, I know.”

He shook his head and glanced out the window with a low chuckle, watching as people from all walks of life went about their business, some with dogs, some with children, some of them even walking along with a cup of coffee in their hands, similarly to Spencer and Y/n. Some of them, in fact, had all three.

As the two sat observing, sipping away at their respective concoctions, Y/n spoke up, her voice soft, although considering they were the only two in the shop, it didn’t need to be.

“Spence?”

“Hmm?”

Only then did she tear her glance away from those on the street, her full focus now on Reid. She admired his bone structure, in awe over the way the soft light reflected off his strong jaw and high cheeks. At that moment, he looked like he belonged in the Louvre.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” He finally looked towards her, his hand never moving from where it was positioned under his chin.

She simply shrugged, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.

He darted his eyes to the table and then her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Well, you’re welcome, I guess.”

She smiled and nodded at once, satisfied with his response.

While she looked out the window once more, she began to wonder about those around her. If they felt the same strong emotions that she did, if they held the same hope and desire for the future that she did.

And as she took another sip from her drink, closing her eyes and slowly was drifting off with the sounds of the city, she could only hope that they did.

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i hope u enjoyed that bc i feel like the imagery in the first paragraph was immaculate 😁 also! i ask that in the reblogs no cussing (and on my blog now in general) is used for personal reasons :) kk luv u bye bb! go take an electronics break and drink some water+ eat some protien (cashews, cheese, whatever ur feeling!)

xx hj

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little-mad · 3 years

Text

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 9

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

After departing from the stream, it only took about fifteen minutes before Rael and his passenger reached the edge of Ostrad. The moment they broke through the treeline, Rael was greeted by the familiar sight of home.

Despite being the location in which the Emperor resided, Ostrad was not the largest city in the realm. This was due in large part to the fact that the city had originally only been built as a secondary residence for the Emperor. However, over a century ago a flood in the former Imperial Capital had forced it to be relocated to Ostrad.

That being said, looking from Gavin to the bustling city that loomed ahead of them, Ostrad looked positively massive. A slight frown tugged at the corners of Rael’s lips. The most direct route to the palace was straight through town, down the main boulevard and up to the main gates. However, going that way would require walking past a great many alteons. With so many people around, there was a high risk of accidents happening, whether intentional or not.

Having spent his youth running up and down the streets of Ostrad, Rael was quite familiar with its layout. He created a mental image of the city in his mind, mapping out the different potential routes they could take. After several moments of deliberation, he decided on a path that snaked along beside the outer wall. Such a route was more winding and less direct than going straight through the city, but it would decrease their chances of encountering other alteons significantly. After the encounter with Kaydin, Rael was simply not ready to subject Gavin to the possibility of being grabbed again.

Rael glanced down at his hands. He was surprised the human had kept quiet for so long and not interrupted Rael’s contemplation once. The reason became quite clear as he noticed Gavin staring at the nearby city with wide eyes. “Right, this is his first time seeing any kind of alteon civilization.”

Gavin’s expression was a mixture of shock, awe, and fear--which Rael supposed was a reasonable reaction. Even putting the size aside, the architecture was likely entirely foreign to the human. The structures in the human city Rael had seen had certainly seemed very different from alteon craftsmanship.

As if he could feel Rael’s gaze on him, Gavin looked up. “It’s like I got transported into a medieval movie,” he breathed in disbelief.

Rael blew out a soft sigh, the breeze ruffling Gavin’s crop of brown hair. “I don’t know what that means,” he told the human. Both the words “medieval” and “movie” were foriegn to him. He assumed they weren’t important words, considering he hadn’t learnt them during his study of human language.

“Oh right,” Gavin said with a light chuckle. “Nevermind then.” Although he appeared to be making an effort to hide it, Rael suspected the sight of the city had caused some nervousness to develop in Gavin. The little guy’s energy levels seemed slightly lower than they had earlier.

“Alright,” Rael carefully moved the hand holding Gavin up a bit so he didn’t have to tilt his head down so much to look him in the eye. “I’m going to take you around the edge of the city,” he began. “Our chances of running into anyone are low, but I’m going to keep you hidden from sight anyways.” While it wasn’t necessarily a secret that a human was being brought to the Emperor, Rael considered it safer if no one even laid eyes on Gavin until they were safely ensconced in the palace.

“I guess there’s not gonna be a parade held in my honor then,” Gavin joked, mock disappointment in his tone.

Rael shook his head. Not even the human diplomats and politicians that had visited the palace received any sort of celebratory welcome. “Consider yourself lucky you’re even getting to ride in my hands rather than the cage,” he snipped.

If Gavin had thought he’d been being smothered before, the situation he was in now was on a whole other level. He still sat in the center of Rael’s palm, but now his entire view of the outside world was obscured. Rael’s free hand caged Gavin in against the giant chest, leaving him in the dark except for the small slivers of light that filtered in between the massive fingers.

While Gavin was effectively trapped, he knew the action wasn’t hostile this time. In fact, it was actually meant to be for his own good. That wasn’t to say Gavin was happy with the arrangement. Despite how intimidating it had been, he had kind of wanted to take in the sights of the alteon city. Though, after the encounter with Kaydin, he could understand Rael’s reasoning for wanting to keep him hidden.

“God, I don’t think I’ve been this close to someone else in...well who knows how long,” Gavin thought to himself. He wasn’t really opposed to physical contact, in fact he had a tendency to maybe be a little bit too handsy at times. However, most of his friends and acquaintances were opposed to physical contact, and so would throw Gavin off whenever he greeted them with an overenthusiastic hug or overzealous handshake.

Now all of a sudden he was being effectively cradled by a literal giant. Gavin ran a hand down his face. How the hell had his life gotten so goddamn weird? Of course, his life was bound to be pretty unconventional as soon as he chose stealing as a career path--but come on, this was beyond bizarre.

“There’s a couple people up ahead, keep quiet,” Rael ordered in a hushed voice.

The urge to scream at the top of his lungs in order to freak out the alteons was quite strong for Gavin. He could only imagine the looks on their faces would be priceless as they tried to figure out who or what had made the noise when Rael’s mouth obviously hadn’t moved. But as funny as that would be, the risk of another Kaydin situation was too great. Not to mention the fact that he would no doubt incur Rael’s wrath. Although, that might actually be funny in its own right…

Suddenly he heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice say something that sounded kind of like a greeting.

Rael gave a perfectly polite, but perfectly simple reply. He slowed his pace ever so slightly, but never came to a stop. Gavin was just fine with that, he wasn’t really interested in having to listen in on small talk while stuck in Rael’s hands.

As they got closer and closer to the palace, the reality of Gavin’s situation was beginning to slowly set in. Surviving the journey to the palace had proven to be a challenge in and of itself, so much so that he hadn’t really stopped for long to consider what was waiting for him when he finally reached his destination. He knew his fate was entirely in the hands of this dimension’s emperor, but he hadn’t the slightest idea what kind of fate that might be. “I’m a criminal being brought in to be judged for a crime, it’s not like whatever it is is going to be good,” Gavin reminded himself solemnly.

“Do you guys have a rule against cruel and unusual punishment here?” Gavin asked Rael, his voice just loud enough to be heard by the giant.

“You’re supposed to be keeping quiet,” Rael immediately scolded, sounding more exasperated than actually angry.

“Is there anyone around right now?” Gavin inquired.

“No, but--”

“Then please just answer the question.” Gavin didn’t like the way his voice sounded, notes of anxiety and fear were obvious in it. Rael was perceptive, he would undoubtedly pick up on it, even if Gavin had spoken very quietly.

There was a long pause. Gavin began to wonder whether Rael planned to just ignore the question and remain silent, but then, “There aren’t rules for punishments, there are precedents.” Rael spoke so quietly Gavin doubted an alteon standing right beside them would be able to discern the words. “The current emperor is known for his fair but firm sentences,” Rael explained. “But you will be the first human he has ever judged, so it’s difficult to predict exactly what he might decide.”

Gavin didn’t really know what to make of that. He supposed it was good to hear that the Emperor wasn’t known for being sadistically cruel. However, the fact that Gavin would be the first human to ever be sentenced in this dimension wasn’t exactly encouraging. What if the Emperor wanted to make an example of him--to send a message to all humans that going against alteons was a horrible mistake?

“There’s no use fretting over it,” Rael whispered. Gavin knew he was right, and normally worrying about things he couldn’t control wasn’t really his style. Rolling with the punches was a part of being a good thief. But with so many unknowns in front of him, Gavin was having a hard time not letting his worst fears intrude upon his mind.

Honestly, Gavin’s question had thrown Rael off guard. He himself had been pondering what the future might hold for the human, but he hadn’t really stopped to think about how the weight of the unknown might be weighing on the little man himself.

At the start, the fate that might await the human criminal hadn’t mattered much to Rael. Whether Gavin was imprisoned for life, kept as the Emperor’s pet, or simply slapped on the wrist--it hadn’t mattered to him. All he’d been concerned with was delivering the human to the palace and getting the unwanted assignment over with.

Things had changed. Now Rael found himself feeling almost...nervous about what the Emperor might decide. After all, now he knew that Gavin wasn’t the one truly at fault for stealing from the diplomat. He had been nothing more than a pawn. Of course, the Emperor didn’t know that. “Should I...should I try to tell him?” he asked himself. However, he was quick to dismiss that thought. Speaking out of turn to the Emperor was a sure fire way to damage his reputation, which was something Rael simply couldn’t allow.

“I’ll just have to trust the Emperor's judgement,” Rael told himself. The ruler of the realm seemed a wise and just man. Despite being fairly young for his position, the Emperor had already made a name for himself as one of the best rulers the realm had ever seen. Surely Rael could trust him to make the right decision regarding Gavin.

It was just then that one of the servant’s entrances into the palace came into view. The door, typically used by cooks, maids, and other domestic servants, was always guarded by a single soldier. Today, the guard was familiar to Rael, but he didn’t know the woman well enough to know her name.

“Returning from an assignment?” the guard asked, apparently recognizing him as a member of the Imperial Guard despite his lack of uniform. She seemed confused as to why Rael would use this entrance rather than one of the ones specified for the Imperial Guard, but it didn’t appear as though she was going to press for information.

Rael nodded. “Yes, that is correct,” he replied. All of the palace guards were aware a human would be arriving soon, but this woman clearly didn’t realize that she was speaking to the one who had been tasked with retrieving said human.

“Welcome back then, head on in,” she said with a polite smile. Rael was thankful she didn’t ask about the specifics of his assignment, he really wasn’t in the mood to explain it all to her, nor was he eager to show Gavin to her. Despite now being at the palace, Rael, for whatever reason, preferred to keep Gavin hidden as long as possible.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

Mominette AU: The Superhero Ban

TRIGGER WARNING!

___________________________________________

It was an indisputable fact that Paris had been the first city to institute the infamous “Supers Ban”. The Justice League knew it. Heroes knew it. Villains knew it. The whole world knew it.

What nobody knew was “why”.

Sure, there had been comments in political circles. Some minor news outlets had mentioned Paris as the latest place where the idea was being considered. But nobody had thought they were serious.

Not until it had been made into law and the Mayor of Paris held a press conference to announce it.

Those who didn’t take it seriously certainly did when Superman himself attempted to go to the Mayor to discuss the matter. And was promptly arrested the instant he set foot in the city.

Outrage was immediate. Cries of discrimination rang out across the world and even at the UN. Various politicians decried the act. Many celebrities admonished it. A good number of people threatened to boycott Paris (which turned out to be for the best as far as Andre and most of Paris was concerned, given that a decrease in tourism meant less people for Hawk Moth to target or the heroes to have to pull out of the fray due to gawking).

Yet a year passed and the ban remained. Even the League would not cross it. Eventually, it just became an accepted fact of the world. Everyone knew to stay out of Paris.

And yet it was still unknown as to why.

Well, people suspected, of course. There were other things happening around the time that seemed to be involved.

It possibly started with the 12 hour timeframe where all of Paris had been closed off. Its citizens had been forced to evacuate. All communication lines were down, and no one from outside of the city had been able to contact anyone from within it. It was news stations in nearby cities that picked up on the fighting and tried to report it, but only several hours after it had started and they seemed to play it off as some sort of freak lighting storm.

Afterwards, things had been strange, but also easily overlooked. The Ladyblogger had gone dark for a several day period. Similarly, the regular correspondent for Paris News, Nadja Chamack had taken a leave of absence. Resident hero Chat Noir had suddenly gotten involved in matters with City Hall, resulting in talk of the hero going into a career in politics. “Chat Noir for President” became a short-lived meme.

It all appeared to come down to a specific “incident”. An akuma fight worse than any other before it. But no one would speak of it. And no information about it was available.

Except for one thing.

There were reports of the existence of video footage of the fight. The Ladyblog had supposedly crashed during a livestream of the mess due to the number of people watching it. Plenty of news reports during that time referenced it. It was rumored to have been played before the city council, resulting in unanimous support of the ban. But what was on the video remained a mystery and any remnant of the video itself couldn’t be found.

Which shouldn’t be possible with the internet. Conspiracy theories abound on the matter—some saying there was no footage in the first place and others saying it was so horrible as to have been erased by time traveling aliens.

In truth, it was the work of a hacker. One of considerable skill to wipe out any trace of this video and not be discovered. There were people willing to pay millions just for a segment of the footage. Plenty of hackers across the world had tested their skills to find even a trace of the original video to no avail.

These other hackers were not Robin.

“I got the footage.” He announced as he held up the USB drive.

Superbly started in surprise, staring at the item in the Boy Wonder’s hand. “This is it?”

“Supposedly.” Robin replied with a shrug.

The Holy Grail of hidden data. A hacker’s ultimate prize. Every journalist and tabloid reporter’s wet dream.

“I haven’t watched it myself,” as he felt it wasn’t his right to intrude on this when it was an issue of his friend’s family, “so I don’t know what’s on there. But whatever’s in this, it’s safe to say it isn’t going to be pretty.”

That was putting it lightly. The video had been so deeply hidden that it was its own urban legend at this point. The incident it showed was bad enough to not only warrant it being hidden from the world, but to set off the “Paris Supers Ban” and arrest of Superman.

The death of a hero was always big news. Even if it’s only barely avoided.

The fact that anyone could HIDE it spoke volumes. Both in regards to the original censor’s ability as well as the importance of the data itself.

Conner nodded, resolute.

“I need to know.”

Robin handed over the device. He probably should have taken it to Batman…probably. But this was Conner’s case. His family. It was his right to decide what to do with the information.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were…accepting of Conner to say the least. They allowed him to enter Paris despite the ban. They let him help. They were kind and accommodating and quite frankly everything that Conner needed.

But…they weren’t exactly open. Not about certain things.

This was one of those things, and Conner had been wanting answers about the “Incident” that cut Paris off from the Superhero world. What made them finally say “enough”? He would ask, but nobody knew. The few who did know refused to speak of it.

Conner wanted to know why. What had they experienced that was so horrible?

Maybe it was a way of feeling closer to them?

Maybe it was a way to understand them better?

Maybe it was just wanting to see the harder things they had faced?

“We’ll be right here with you, Conner.” Wally reassured him when his hands started to shake.

“Remember, you’ll have full access of the gym and training grounds, but you won’t be allowed to leave the Mountain for 24 hours after this.” Kaldur gently stated. Partly to remind Conner of the agreement, lest he attempt to run off to Paris in anger or fear and risk an akuma. Partly to subtly prompt everyone else to ensure that Conner does not accomplish the former.

Still…the choice was already clear.

Conner put the drive into the computer and pressed play.

The video only lasted a few minutes.

A few minutes was more than enough.

_______________________

“Oh…oh my god.” Came the words of the person recording, her voice as shaky as her hands that held the camera.

The damage was…extensive. Rubble, broken glass, and downed buildings littered the background. There was a sad mix of gray and brown as far as the eye could see. Of the destroyed roads and pavement. Of steel beams littering the ground. Of rock and dirt and what may very well have been ash.

Amidst the ruined landscape, there was one spot of color. A bright red standing out amidst the muted neutral around her. Normally a source of bravery and inspiration, it took a few seconds for the camera to get her properly in focus, and a few more for it to register that there was significantly more red in the scene than there should have been.

Ladybug wasn’t standing so much as she was leaning backwards in a half-upright position. Forced to stay on her legs despite her clear lack of strength. The only thing holding her up were the very things responsible for her current state…three steel spikes that extended from the ground beneath her.

They were exiting her torso. One piercing the upper left part of her body, right close to her shoulder. One through her naval. And the third on the right side, for all purposes appearing to have hit a lung.

She was breathing, though it was clearly labored. She was constantly torn between some variation of taking a gasping breath in and crying it out. Her suit could protect her—it was supposed to protect her from anything, but even this was too much.

It was clear she couldn’t move. She had to remain there, impaled on steel. Both to limit her injuries as much as possible and just due to inability from the sheer pain she was in.

The camera was focused on her, though it was shaky at best. The person recording it could be heard muttering unintelligibly with some mention of a hospital and frequent repetition of “oh god” thrown in. Some noise could be heard in the background of someone sounding quite ill, which was understandable given the sight of their hero impaled and choking on her own blood.

Within a minute of the video starting, the crunching sound of boots running on glass and stones could be heard coming closer. The sound of panting grew louder as Chat Noir cleared a hill and entered into view, rushing and stumbling towards Ladybug while holding something in front of him.

The camera zoomed on him, bringing him into focus as he cleared the last hurdle.

“I’ve got it!” Chat exclaimed, racing back to her side with her yoyo in hand. “I’ve got it! It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over now. It’s finished. He’s done.”

“Sh…Ch…” Her head hung limply and her eyes were barely able to focus on him as he tried to get her to look at him without moving her too much.

“It—It’s okay! It’s going to be okay!” He whispered to her, so softly that the camera barely caught it. He was clearly panicked and trying desperately not to let it show. “We just need the Cure. If you cast the Cure, everything will be better, okay?”

She didn’t appear to be listening, though. And barely seemed aware of anything. “Ch-ck…Chaaa…”

The video zoomed in on them both. Ladybug dazed and bleeding out. Chat crying and trying not to break down completely.

“Please! I just need you to say the words! Say the words and you’ll be okay! Can you do that?”

“Huurrr…s…” She slurred, begging him without words for help.

“I know! I know! But you can fix it. C’mon, M’lady, please!”

“I…I cn…”

“Say the words. Just two words, okay?” He begged desperately, patting her cheek in an attempt to both soothe her and keep her attention on him. “Two words and then you can go to sleep, I promise.”

“Ch…a…”

“Just…just two words, that’s it! I’ll…I’ll even say them with you, okay?”

She winced. “Nn…”

She clearly wasn’t listening, but he was desperate and so started to try. “Miraculous—”

She sobbed.

“No, no. Listen to me, okay? Say it with me!” He ordered, forcing her to look at him. “Mi. Say it with me! Mi!”

“M…mi…”

“Racu!”

“ra…” Her gaze started to waver.

He shook her. “Cu!”

“…cu…lous…”

He gave a weak laugh. Even now she was ahead of him. “Ladybug.”

“La…laa-deee…”

He shook her again. “LADYBUG!”

“……b…u—gahck-ugh—" She was cut off by harsh coughing.

But it was enough.

Thank every god out there it was enough.

The Cure spilled out from the object she was holding, transforming into magical ladybugs that covered everything in their wake. Unfortunately, the casting of the Cure and incoming loveliness caused the person holding the camera to drop it, losing sight of the video and cutting the feed.

_______________________

The ringing of her phone got Marinette’s attention, drawing her away from the movie she was watching with Adrien and the Dolls.

“Hello?”

“Miss Ladybug.” Came the voice on the end. “This is Aqualad.”

She blinked in surprise. “Aqualad? Is everything okay?”

“Yes…just…” The sound of angry whispers could be heard on the other end. “Would you be able to come speak with Conner today?”

Marinette frowned at that. While she certainly enjoyed seeing Conner, that…didn’t sound like a good thing. If anything, it sounded like a plea. And the voices that sounded like an argument in the background only made it sound worse.

“Is everything okay?”

Adrien seemed to notice the concern in her voice as he had stopped paying attention to the movie to focus on her. In turn, Chaton was peeking over the couch at her, curious as to what was going on.

“No. We found a recording of something…personal to you. Conner saw it and now he’s rather upset. We think it might help if you were here.”

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed. This definitely got the attention of the other dolls, all of whom had abandoned the movie in favor of checking on their Mama.

Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly full Mom mode was on.

“Aqualad. Tell me right now what happened.”

And Kaldur caved immediately with only a small sigh.

“Robin found the video of the akumatized hero who attacked you and instigated the events leading to the Paris Ban.” He explained. “I apologize. We should have checked with you first, but at Conner’s request, we all watched it.”

Marinette sighed. “I thought that was buried.”

“We’re rather good at digging.” Robin’s voice could be heard on the other side of the line.

“Hang on. I’ll be right over.” She told them before hanging up.

“Marinette? What happened?” She turned to see Adrien standing before her, looking rather concerned. Picking up on her tension, he had stopped the movie. And sure enough, four little dolls stared up at her in worry.

She sighed. There was nothing else for it.

“Who wants to go on a trip?”

The Dolls perked up at that.

Adrien, however, noticed how tense she was.

“Mari?”

“They saw the tape.”

His eyes widened. “Oh.” He reached out to her, and without even thinking, she moved into his arms. He clutched her tightly, soothing her and himself. It was…not a pleasant thing to have to relive. That so-called “hero” had caused more damage than just that one day. And more than any of them had truly recovered from.

The dolls seemed to catch on to the atmosphere, because their excitement died down.

“It’ll be okay, Mari. Let’s just be there for him. And I’ll be here for you.”

She held him back just as tight.

“Together then?”

“Always.”

#ml fic #mominette #superhero ban #ml crossover #dc crossover #conner kent #robin #Young Justice #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dolls au #trigger warning

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

Note

hi hazel!! how about “i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years” with hmmmm mashton? maybe? feels mashton-y to me but whatever u think works best is good with me <3 love you <3

anything for you Iba <3

Ficmas day 10

Rating: T for language

Read on AO3

Getting Ashton for Secret Santa is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because Michael already knows what he wants to give him, a curse because he wants to give him the world. Well, more accurately he wants to give him the entire universe.

Ashton Irwin is arguably the universe’s finest creation, founded on stardust and made up of infinite galaxies. Michael has been in love with him since around the time they met. Ashton deserves something as wonderful and celestial as himself, but that would require Michael to suddenly develop the ability to trap the universe in the palm of his hands, cradled close until he could hand it off to someone worthy enough to hold it. Even if he could, the universe seems like a fragile thing. He’d probably drop it, knowing him.

Maybe getting Ashton was more of a curse than a blessing. If he can’t give him some sort of celestial body, he’s out of ideas. It’s probably for the best, because he’s not exactly keen on letting Ashton know that he’s been in love with him for so long, and you can’t give someone the entire universe without prompting a few questions.

He seeks out Calum for advice, because Calum is great at gifts, but he doesn’t want him to know who he got so he asks what he would give Luke instead.

It turns out Calum is so great at gifts because he knows exactly what each person needs. Knowing what Luke needs does nothing to help Michael figure out what to get Ashton.

Michael spends a lot of time googling stuff like good gifts for friends and good gifts for crushes and then backtracks, because most of those imply that he would be revealing his crush. The search for good gifts for someone you’re in love with who is also one of your best friends WITHOUT letting them know you love them but still the best present yields no useful results. Michael doesn’t want to regurgitate generic “sentimental” gifts suggested in lists on various websites, he wants something that Ashton will truly appreciate. He wants to get him something that only someone who knows him would give him.

He’s pretty sure buying presents isn’t supposed to make you want to pull out all of your hair, but Michael wants to pull out all of his hair. The one solace is that they selected their people early, so he still has a lot of time to figure out a suitable present.

-/-

Michael mostly forgets about the stresses of Secret Santa for a while. He has to get presents for other people, too, so he focuses on that, and decorating the house, and baking some Christmas cookies, and everything except Ashton’s present. Unfortunately, this means that by the time Ashton hosts his yearly It’s a Wonderful Life watch party, it’s late enough that Michael should start panicking a little.

Each year, Ashton invites as many friends as can fit in his basement over to watch his favorite Christmas movie. He used to watch it with his mom every year, and even though they live physically far apart he once told Michael that it makes him feel closer to her. Over the years, the night has turned into an entire event. Ashton sets up a projector and prepares more snacks than can be eaten. Michael attends every year, even though the movie seems to get longer every time he watches it. Last year he kept dozing off, enough so that Ashton had let him curl on the couch with his head in his lap and sleep for most of the second half. The weight of Ashton’s hand resting on his shoulder and the occasional gentle fingers brushing over his hair are something Michael thinks about often.

This year he ends up in an armchair, Luke between his legs on the floor and Ashton all the way on the other side of the room. It makes him focus on the movie a bit more, and during the scene where George asks what Mary wants and says he’ll lasso the moon Michael thinks yeah dude, you get it.

Unfortunately he is not George and Ashton is not Mary, and by the time he leaves his house that night, lingering late enough that Ashton offers to let him stay, he is no closer to figuring out his gift.

-/-

Michael can’t lasso the moon, but maybe he was onto something there.

He can’t stop thinking about space. Ashton has always had an appreciation for it, but since his trip to the desert where he was finally able to see the Milky Way unobstructed he’s developed a new fascination with it. He’s not going to be an astronomer, but he knows more about constellations than Michael does, and he knows a lot about astrology even if he doesn’t fully believe in it.

Michael has wanted to give him the universe this entire time. Maybe instead of finding a different present, he should focus on figuring out a way to do that.

Maybe he should just get Ashton one of those model solar system kits that kids assemble for science projects. That would be giving him the universe in a punny way that he might appreciate, but then he’ll have to explain that give you the universe was his original goal, which will still prompt questions. Without that sentiment, it’s kind of a crummy gift.

He needs something that isn’t punny but that manages to accomplish his goal without revealing that he’s in love. He’ll find a way to accomplish that out of sheer stubbornness if he has to.

-/-

Schedules don’t properly align for a full group Secret Santa exchange, so everyone is tasked with contacting their present recipient and setting up a time to give them their gift. Michael sends Ashton a text that reads hey when do you want your secret santa present and gets a string of emojis in response. Eventually he manages to wrangle a time from him and loads the present into his car.

It’s a decent gift, in his opinion. He’s both relieved and nervous about having to give it to Ashton without the full group, because there’s significantly less people who can judge him but there’s significantly more opportunity for Ashton to ask uncomfortable questions.

The drive feels longer than it should. That doesn’t bode well.

Michael lets himself in once he gets to the house, because there’s no telling where inside Ashton might be. He calls his name and gets an answer in the direction of the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and getting rid of his coat before setting off towards his destination. Ashton is sitting on the bed, scribbling something furiously in a journal. Michael waits until he’s done and tosses the small leather book aside to fully enter the space.

“Hi,” Ashton says, beaming.

“Hi,” Michael says. “Special delivery.”

The package in his hands is rectangular and flat, covered with shiny red and green paper. Ashton eyes it curiously, taking it when offered and frowning at the weight.

“There’s a few parts, so be careful,” Michael says.

“I will.”

Ashton tears through the paper inelegantly, strips of it floating down to the floor, and Michael watches him read the framed certificate on top.

“I got you a star,” Michael says. “That’s the certificate for it, and it’s under your name in a database. There’s a star map, so you can try to find it the next time you have a clear sky.”

“Michael, this is amazing,” Ashton says, aglow with enthusiasm. “This is so fucking cool!”

He looks at the star map, eyes tracking over the many tiny dots on it and the one circled that’s his.

“Wow. My very own star.”

It wasn't quite the whole universe or lassoing the moon, but Michael thinks he did alright given the circumstances.

The next frame is a bit bigger, a blue background with a white star chart and lettering at the bottom that reads July 7, 1994 - a star is born.

“Tell me something, boy,” Ashton croons. “Which one of us is Lady Gaga and which one of us is Bradley Cooper?”

“Neither of us,” Michael sighs. He wants to facepalm. He knew this was a risk when he put that inscription. “Did you even watch that movie? You want us to end up like them?”

“No,” Ashton says.

“You’re the star,” Michael says. “It’s a map of the sky when you were born. I thought it was a fitting caption.”

“Aw,” Ashton says. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You don’t have to make fun,” Michael says, embarrassment flaring inside him. This was a last-minute decision off one of those generic lists, and he’s regretting it. Getting teased for his crush was not something he anticipated nor wanted today, especially since Ashton should know better.

“I’m not making fun,” Ashton says, tearing his eyes away from the chart to look up at Michael and frown. “You just compared me to an actual celestial body. That’s really fucking sweet. The only thing sweeter would be if someone wrote me a proper love song.”

Michael could try his hand at that.

He shrugs.

“It’s almost romantic,” Ashton says. Michael’s breath freezes in his chest. Ashton puts the gifts down on his bed and shifts so he can face Michael fully, eyes assessing.

“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks.

Brush it off, Michael tells himself. Laugh and call him bro and say you don’t.

There seems to be a communication delay between his mind and his body, because Michael doesn’t do any of those things. He stands there like a deer in headlights, paralyzed the longer Ashton looks at him.

“It’s okay if you do,” Ashton says. “I just want to know.”

Well what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?

No!

What comes out sounds more like a choking cat.

“Okay,” Ashton says. “You want to sit down?”

Again the answer is no, but that word seems to have left his vocabulary, so he sinks onto the bed next to Ashton. He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on his forearm.

“You know, you not saying anything is making me nervous, but I’m just going to keep going. You can tell me to stop at any time,” Ashton says. “I like you, and I’ve been getting the impression that you like me, too. If that’s wrong, then correct me, but if that’s right then you don’t have to be embarrassed or upset, because it’s mutual.”

Michael turns the words over in his head, giving them a second perusal to ensure he had heard correctly.

“What?”

“Oh, he speaks,” Ashton says dryly.

“I was not picking up any vibes from you,” Michael says. “Now you expect me to believe you like me?”

“Well it’s not like I wanted you to know,” Ashton says. “Seriously, do you think I let anyone sleep through It’s a Wonderful Life? You got lucky last year because I like you.”

Now that he thinks about it, Ashton might have a point. Other people who doze off get food thrown at them with the excuse that they should have stayed home if they were planning on sleeping.

“Huh,” Michael says.

“So,” Ashton says, “do you like me? You never actually confirmed it.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Look, I’m processing a lot right now. I bought you a fucking star, Ashton. Use your context clues.”

“Use my context clues? What are you, my literature teacher?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Nice. That was smooth.

Ashton smiles. Just like that, the bridge Michael was standing on made of their banter melts into a gooey mess, dropping him into a bunch of sappy feelings below. He could bask in that smile forever, shining brighter than all of the stars in the sky.

“That sounds good to me,” Ashton says. Michael smiles shyly back, something that makes Ashton’s eyes crinkle at the edges. He reaches out and squeezes his hand, something he’s going to be able to do freely now, and Ashton tangles their fingers together.

All things considered, Michael thinks he one-upped George Bailey here. George said he was going to lasso the moon and then didn’t even do that. Michael bought Ashton a whole fucking star and got his own star in return. He’s probably the luckiest man in the universe.

#my writing #mashton #5sos fanfiction #ficmas 2020 #tonally this is quite different than what I anticipated #I'm going to blame it on the fact that this Ashton very much has the quarantine Ashton personality #which comes with a bit of chaos #and I wrote it for Iba who also comes with a bit of chaos #man aren't y'all going to be happy once I'm done with ficmas and you don't have to see me throwing writing at you every day?#I kid I know people are enjoying it and I am to #I'm just also burning out

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storiesbymads · 4 years

Text

SHE’S A WORKING GIRL NOW ¹ ( the internship . )

Y/N just got an internship at her childhood best friend’s brother’s company. The same brother who has no idea they’ve even met before.

general warnings: smut, age gap (about 8 years), angst

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

You had known JJ Maybank since the first day of first grade. Funny how a teacher’s random seating chart had affected pretty much your whole life. If it hadn't been for said seating chart, you were absolutely, 100% sure that your life would’ve been on a completely different course than the one it was on now.

JJ had been your absolute best friend for as long as you could remember. Hell, for most of your life the two of you had shared everything--including a birthday party since your birthdays were three days apart. He had been there for every scraped knee, every failed test, every breakup. The two of you graduated high school attached at the hip and started college the same way that fall.

By the time junior year rolled around, you had both moved into a small apartment on the far side of town which, thankfully, meant no more student housing for either of you. Dorm life had been hell for you. Your roommate never seemed to fail at bringing someone new home every Friday night and would often kick you out leaving you to fend for yourself in the hallway. In all actuality, you stomped over to JJ’s dorm downstairs with your duvet wrapped around your shoulders and a scowl on your face when 2am rolled around and she still wasn’t done.

“Good morning to you to sunshine,” he would say after you vigorously knocked on the tacky, brick colored door. You would simply push past him into the room and throw yourself onto his twin bed while his own roommate remained fast asleep. Aaron--you ended up learning his name about six months after you started regularly crashing in their dorm-- was one of the loudest snorers you think you’d ever met but at least you had a bed.

“We’re so moving into our own place next year,” you would say as he shuffled into the bed, his feet situated where your head was and vice versa. Of course, it took you both another whole year to actually accomplish this dream but, somehow, you managed it.

Now, it was the summer before what was supposed to be your senior year--JJ was sure he wasn’t going to be graduating this year due to the fact that he’d failed more than a couple classes and you already knew you were going stay here as long as he was--and you were days away from starting an internship at Maybank Industries.

When you had originally applied for the internship, you had no idea it was JJ’s older brother who ran the company. You both thought it was just some funny coincidence. The fact that it was called Maybank Industries was what made JJ so adamant on you applying in the first place. Now, less than a week before your first day, you were forced to come to terms with the fact that you’d be working under the same Jesse Maybank you’d known since grade school.

Jesse had been in high school by the time you and JJ had really gotten close. He’d already seemingly maxed out his height at 6’4 and his blond hair was shaggy and often stuck to his forehead when he got home lacrosse practice. He was the first boy you’d ever had a crush on. The 8 year age gap didn’t really phase second grade you.

“I’m going to shoot myself on Monday. My sleep schedule is so fucked,” you groaned as you shuffled out of your bedroom to see JJ sprawled out on the love seat in your living room with a half eaten bowl of Frosted Flakes on the coffee table in front of him. You squinted as you read the digital clock on the microwave. 1:17 blinked back at you in bright red numerals.

“Morning, sunshine,” JJ said. You didn’t know how or when it had happened but he had managed to develop healthier sleeping habits than you. Waking up before noon sounded like hell to you and he’d done it three times this week.

“Fuck off,” you said, moving his feet so that you could sit down before setting them back on your lap. He grabbed the bowl of soggy cereal and took a bite. A shudder ran through your body as you faked a gag.

“Oh don’t be like that. It’s not my fault I don’t shovel my Frosted Flakes down my throat at hyper speed,” he said before setting it back down. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this argument and you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last.

“It’s how they’re supposed to be consumed. It should be considered a war crime to let them get all…” another fake gag. “Soggy.”

“Whatever. You’re just jealous because I’m able to retain the quality crunch the entire time,” you said. You focused your gaze on the small flat screen mounted to the wall to see that JJ had put on some crime drama. Probably Law & Order.

“So, who’s the killer?” you asked after a few moments of silence passed. The rest of the day passed like this; you and JJ managed to get through 6 episodes of SVU before you decided it was probably time to get up and do something productive. And by something productive you meant get dressed enough and go out to grab take out.

By the time your Monday morning alarm rolled around, you realized you should have attempted to regulate your sleep schedule a hell of a lot sooner than two nights before you were forced to get up at 5am. You flicked on your overhead light with a groan before starting your morning routine--well, some semblance of a morning routine since you really hadn’t done one since school ended.

The drive to Downtown Chapel Hill wasn’t long. Well, it shouldn’t have been long but for some reason it felt like everyone and their mother was out on the interstate this morning. You were just desperately hoping you weren’t late on your first day as you tried to push your car past 25 mph.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to Jesse as you found yourself in a standstill on the roadway once again. You knew he wasn’t going to look like the boy you remembered but deep down you wish he was. Nothing could ever replace the 19 year old boy in your mind with his crystalline blue eyes and a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees.

A horn sounded behind you, pulling you from your day dream, “Fuck, sorry!”

At least you were going the posted speed limit now.

By the time you saw the Maybank Industries building coming into view, you were ten minutes away from being on time, eleven from being late. You could feel your anxiety rising in the back of your throat as you glanced back and forth from the road to the digital clock in your car.

“Mr. Maybank?” you asked tentatively through the frosted glass of his office door fifteen minutes later. You couldn’t help but picture that 19 year old opening the door and pulling you into a hug. That was if he even remembered you enough to pull you into a hug. And if he wasn’t pissed about his new intern being late.

“Come in,” he said. Wow, his voice was a lot deeper than you remember it being. And raspier.

You took in his whole office as you pushed open the door. The first thing you noticed was the gold plated nameplate with ‘Jesse Maybank’ engraved in bold letters with ‘CEO Maybank Industries’ in a finer print beneath it. Next you took in the view of downtown Chapel Hill out of the floor to ceiling windows behind his desk.

“Good Morning,” you said in a shaky voice. Sure, he’d been good looking when he left for college all those years ago but nothing could compare to how he looked right now. His shoulders had broadened significantly since he was nineteen and he filled out the white dress shirt he had rolled up to his elbows nicely. You were sure that if you hadn’t been leaning up against the door frame your knees would’ve caved in by now.

He hummed as he looked up from his laptop, finally making eye contact with you, “You must be my new intern.”

“Yes,” you nodded as you shifted your weight onto your other foot. He raised his eyebrows slightly, standing up to walk around the wooden desk and lean against the front of it. You couldn’t help but watch the sleeves of his shirt bulge slightly as he crossed his arms. “Oh, right. I’m Y/N.”

“You seem nervous, Y/N…” he trailed off, obviously expecting a continuation of your name. Surely, he hadn’t forgotten about you completely. You knew you looked different than when you were eleven but the name alone should’ve sparked something.

“Y/L,” you said. At least now you could tell JJ you hadn’t been accepted in his brother’s internship program just because you were his best friend.

“Well, Miss Y/L/C,” he said. “There’s a stack of files on my desk that need to be sorted by lunch today.”

“O-Okay,” you stuttered, slowly pulling yourself off the door frame to pick up the files. You mentally cursed yourself for choosing to wear the tallest heels in your closet this morning. At least they made your legs look good.

“I expect them on my desk before you leave,” he said. You were praising God and anyone else that was up there that you made it back to the door without tripping.

“Yes sir,” you said as you struggled to close the door with the stack of files in your arms. You watched his frame through the frosted glass shuffle around his desk to sit down again. How the fuck were you going to make it through the summer if your heart almost fell out of your ass after one conversation?

The rest of the day passed by interminably slowly. The rest of the interns who had seemingly been at the company for a few years at this point--you didn’t understand why they chose to intern at the same company every summer if they never seemed to get a job out of it--and you felt incredibly out of the loop already. One of the interns, though, was kind enough to bring you a cup of coffee an hour or so after you had gotten there. Scout--you were sure you would forget her name in twenty minutes but she’d been nice enough to introduce herself--had apparently been with the company for the past three years with hope to become a paid intern come next month.

“Thank you. I really needed this,” you had said with a smile. She waved it off with a smile of her own before getting situated at her desk across the small room.

Other than that, though, the day had been boring to say the least. You didn’t know what you were expecting with this internship but sitting at a desk in an office with three other interns doing seemingly nothing for most of the day was not it. After you finished everything you’d needed to do with the files--with a lot a bit of help from the boy sitting next to you--you were forced to just sit at your desk and look like you were doing something productive.

You only had about an hour left in the work day but the coffee Scout had brought you that morning had worn off way past the point of you just being a little sleepy. Another small cup wouldn’t hurt anything. Especially since you’d caught yourself nodding off at your desk three times already. You pushed yourself up from the semi-comfortable desk chair to go look for the break room.

Thankfully, it was only a few doors down from the office you’d been working in all day and the door had been propped open with a door jamb. It only took you a second to realize Jesse was also in the small room. He was leaned up against one of the counter tops, stirring what you guessed was coffee in a stark white mug.

“Looks like you had the same idea as me,” you said softly, picking up a matching mug off the tray as well as one of the many Keurig pods next to it.

“Great minds think alike.” He lifted his mug in greeting before dropping the spoon into the sink. The low ceiling of the kitchen made him look even taller than usual.

It was silent for a few moments while your cup brewed in the machine. You fiddled with your thumbs to pass the time. It didn’t help that you could feel Jesse’s eyes on you the whole time. You didn’t know why he was still in the room, to be honest.

“You know,” he cleared his throat. “I can see your… uh…”

“My what?” you asked, dropping your hands and looking down your body. You were sure you’d worn the right bra this morning. You’d even gotten JJ to check before you walked out the door.

“Your garter belt,” he said. Sure enough, you glanced down at your pencil skirt which was hiked up to your mid thigh, a good two inches of the garter belt on your right leg on display. A rush of embarrassment flooded over you as you turned around, tugging the skirt down your legs.

“I’m so sorry, sir. Won’t happen again,” you sputtered out as you attempted to busy yourself with the tray of mugs. It would only be a few more seconds before your coffee finished and you’d be able to run back to your office.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. You felt your chest tighten at the sound. He exhaled slightly before you heard the rustling of him moving around behind you. You suddenly became hyper aware of just how narrow the kitchen was. His hand was pressed against your waist as he shuffled past you. The size of his hand made sense, he was an incredibly large man, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that the width of his hand spanning half of your torso sent shivers down your spine.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, sir?” you asked once he was fully out the door. He made a half-turn in the door frame, giving you a two finger salute in response.

“See you in the morning, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. You muttered something incoherent as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shaking your head, you grabbed the coffee that had been finished brewing for a solid minute before making your way back to your office.

tagging: @ptersparkers @digniteas @kiarascarreras @letsgofullkook @kirikaelak @haute-shawn @obx-baby @httpstarkey @x-lulu @obbx-tings @poguestyleskye @erraaxh @sunwardsss @katrynec

#the internship #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks series #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #best friend! jj maybank #jesse maybank #jj maybank series #series

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dawnfromzero · 4 years

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33. a kiss that shocks the receiver ✨ ✨

(originally from this post )

What had started out as a good day had turned great when Erend wrapped up a patrol through the city (had to keep the Vanguard on their toes even in peace time, after all) just in time to run into Aloy, freshly returned to Meridian from the wilds to restock and check in on a few friends (himself included, he was pleased to be informed). Great had turned to excellent when the huntress had immediately agreed to his suggestion that they grab a meal and a drink (or two, or three) and fallen into step with him, a smile on her lovely, freckled face, as though there were nothing in the world she would rather be doing in that moment.

It was enough to make Erend’s stomach flip and his heart flutter, but then Aloy always had that effect on him. One smile was all it took to have him wrapped around her finger, and a single word to bring him running. Better men had been ruined by less, but for all her strength, Aloy was a gentle hand with the people who loved her, thank his lucky stars. The Oseram were well known for the durability of their armor and the strength of their weapons, but Erend had no defenses when it came to the huntress that had so easily snared his heart, and he’d rather bare his throat to her than ever raise a hand in her direction.

The sun fell and as the night finally brought a reprieve to the blistering heat of the day, Erend coaxed Aloy into a walk along the canals. It took surprisingly little effort on his part, and the man wasn’t sure if that last pint of ale had given his already silver tongue an extra edge, or if it had simply made his lovely companion more amenable to distraction; he wasn’t about to question his good luck either way.

Conversation flowed easily as they walked side-by-side under the pale light of the moon, and Erend’s heart felt lighter than it had in ages as he watched Aloy throw her head back and laugh at his latest tale, red hair cascading down her back in heavy waves the man longed to run his fingers through. He knew he was grinning like a besotted idiot, but he allowed himself the luxury of watching her for a moment longer, at least until she got herself back under control and looked at him again, tears of mirth in her bright eyes. Erend turned his face from her in hopes of schooling his expression into something less obvious, one hand absently smoothing his mustache to disguise the infatuated curve of his lips.

Distracted as he was, Erend was caught off guard when he turned back to look at Aloy and found her significantly closer than she had been the moment before, scant inches between their bodies. The shock of it made the man inhale sharply, filling his nose with the scent of her; the ale they’d just drank, the leather of her tunic, and a pleasant blend of herbs and flowers he couldn’t begin to identify. Rattled, heart pounding frantically behind his ribs, Erend tried to ask what she was doing, but the words wouldn’t come, seemingly dried up at the source, and only retreating further when he saw her gaze drop from his eyes, to his lips, and then back up again.

Aloy closed the remaining distance between them, hands lighting on his chest for support as she went up on her toes to catch his lips with hers and Erend wondered if he hadn’t had too much to drink after all and was passed out face down in his pillow at home. That’s usually the sort of circumstances he wound up having these dreams in, after all. But then, he didn’t think he had the imagination to fabricate the way her fingers felt as they curled into the fabric of his shirt, or the pleasant solidity of her body pressed flush against his.

The kiss was forthright and sincere as the woman herself was; inexpert but tender, and completely breathtaking. So much so that Erend forgot to breathe at all until Aloy broke contact, settling back on her heels once more, flushed and pensive as the vanguardsman finally managed to take a ragged, unsteady breath. He opened his mouth to try and speak again, but only managed a croak, making the pretty redhead lift a brow and purse her (wonderfully soft) lips in an attempt to school her expression. She withdrew her hands from his chest and Erend immediately missed them, kicking himself mentally to say something, say anything before she wound up with the wrong damn idea-

“I-… why?” he finally managed to say, voice rough, but a long sight better than the croak that had escaped him a moment before. It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, but it was the one ricocheting most violently around his, ecstatic, if bewildered, brain like a charger in a pottery shop.

Aloy’s other brow went up to match the first, then relaxed again as she studied his face, seeming to search for the reason behind his question. He had no idea if she found her answer, but after a moment, direct as ever, she answered, “I like your mouth.”

Erend blinked. “You… like my mouth,” he repeated dumbly, completely thrown by her unexpected answer.

She nodded, the blush across her freckled cheeks deepening under his regard and, possibly for the first time, her gaze darted nervously away from his. “You know-” Aloy tried again, gesturing helplessly towards his face as she glanced back up at him from under her lashes. “-the shape of your lips. The way they move when you talk. How you, uh… smile. I like it.” The huntress recovered enough then to lift her chin in silent challenge and met his gaze once more, as if daring him to laugh at her.

He didn’t of course. Erend was too busy marveling that Aloy had somehow managed to make him love her even more, though if you’d asked him five minutes earlier, he would have claimed that such a feat was impossible.

Still, he was mischievous by nature and, despite feeling like his heart might give out at any moment, Erend couldn’t help but ask, “Oh yeah? What about the rest of me?”

Aloy scowled and he smiled, unable to resist doing so any more than the sun could cease rising in the east. He half expected her to call him a chuff, but instead, she went quiet for a moment, then crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I like that too. For some reason.” Erend’s smile widened into an outright grin and she quickly added, “All-mother only knows why, th-”

This time, it was the huntress caught off guard as her would-be prey stepped in close and silenced her with another kiss. Erend didn’t wrap his arms around her out of concern that he might scare her off (or get punched), though that didn’t stop him resting one hand along her jaw so he could sweep the pad of his thumb across the swell of her cheek. Aloy was totally still for a moment, long enough that Erend nearly pulled away, worried that he’d misread her, but then her lips were moving against his, mimicking the gentle coaxing movement of his own. He’d long suspected Aloy was inexperienced, but as in everything the woman put her mind to, she was a quick study, and it wasn’t long before Erend found himself questioning his initial assessment on the matter.

They parted after a minute and Erend knew he was grinning like a fool, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Aloy was smiling right back at him; sweet and shy but thoroughly pleased with herself.

“I like your mouth too, just for the record,” he informed her.

Aloy laughed, then got an impish look in her eye that made Erend’s heart leap alarmingly and beat a frantic tattoo against the inside of his chest. “Good thing,” she said, then planted her palms on his chest and pushed gently so the man was forced to take a step back, and then another, until he found himself pressed up against the nearest wall. Erend swallowed thickly, all his funny, clever words leaving him again as Aloy regarded him almost hungrily, and he wondered at his good luck as her hands slid up to his shoulders until her arms could wind around his neck and pull him down into another kiss. It was deeper this time, more demanding, but as he slipped his arms around Aloy’s waist and pulled her in flush against him, she found Erend was more than happy to give the woman he loved everything she wanted and more.

#horizon zero dawn #ereloy #erend #aloy #erend vanguardsman #jacks writing #sheepishwolfy

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romansleftshoulderpad · 5 years

Text

Chapter Three - Origins

Heaven’s Grief

Words: 1,488

Ship: None

Warnings: Snakes eggs, mentions of a dead rabbit, manipulative deceit, vomit is mentioned but no one throws up, broken glass, Remus is mentioned, body mutation.

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck@madly-handsome@strickenwithclairvoyance@limitededitionsanderssidesblog@ab-artist@sometimeswritingsometimesdying @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @because-were-fam-ily @gattonero17 @analogical-mess @joaniejustwokeup @whycantihavemorethan32characters

---

A week had passed since the incident. Patton and Logan tried to go back to their normal routines; Roman and Virgil were far less fortunate. However, as a junior in high school, whatever magic powers and evil smoke men life throws at you, tests are more important.

“Are you okay?” Logan asked. “You’re shaking your leg, like, kind of a lot.”

“So are you, Poindexter,” Virgil bit back, gnawing on the skin of his thumb until it was raw with a noticeable chunk missing. “But you don’t see me getting on your ass about it.”

“Virgil,” Logan said softly. “You’ve been a lot more anxious since it happened. And if anyone is going to pick up on that, it’s me.”

“There’s a lot of differences between G.A.D and getting possessed by an evil cloud of smoke that makes you turn purple!”

Logan let out a deep breath, trying to stop himself from getting angry. He had to remember that Virgil had been through a lot lately and he was only trying to get his emotions out. Unfortunately, he was also being a massive dick.

“Students! Tests are out!” the teacher said. “Please be quiet for the duration of the period!”

Logan took one last look at Virgil, trying to reach out to him and let him know that everything would be okay. When Virgil didn’t even glance towards him, he went back to his paper with a defeated sigh. He had to stop thinking about Virgil and monsters and caves. For the next thirty minutes, all that mattered was the articles of the United States constitution.

Patton somehow couldn’t shake the sight of the rabbit from his mind. He had seen so many crazy things and barely spoken to anyone else that was there that night in a week. But the rabbit was what bothered him. He tugged on his binder as he went upstairs to class, trying to ignore how the fabric at the bottom rolled up and made it feel even tighter against his ribs. If he could survive one more class then he could hide in the bathroom during lunch and take it off for five minutes. Or ten. Or maybe the whole hour. I want to go home, he thought to himself as he kept walking.

His phone buzzed and he quickly stepped out of the flow of foot traffic to check it. It was a text from an unknown number.

“Meet me outside the chorus room during lunch. Urgent.”

Before Patton could even think of a response to type out, the warning bell rang and he found himself quickly shoving his phone back into his pocket and power walking to chemistry.

His lab partner had been absent that day, and he couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, it was a lot easier to get work done with no one to distract you or ruin your work; on the other hand, he had nothing to distract him from the anxiety of waiting for lunch to come so he could find out who texted him. Was it Virgil? What would Virgil need him for? His heart began to race, slightly panicked but mostly hopeful. Was he officially part of their group?

He turned on the Bunsen burner and tried to burn those thoughts in the gas and fire. He had a job to do. He’d worry about the group later.

Roman packed up his music in a rush, trying not to bend anything as he slipped papers back into plastic folders but also not wanting to be late. If being friends with Logan had taught him anything, it’s not to be late to meetings. He threw his bag over his shoulder and escaped the upstream flow towards the cafeteria. He dogged bodies before falling against the chorus room’s brick walls. A breeze ruffled through his curly brown hair. He let out a calming sigh. It finally felt like fall- or at least as close to Fall as Florida ever got.

“Roman,” Patton said, his voice stuck somewhere between excitement and confusion. “Did you text me?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you don’t have me in your contacts,” he said with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“What did you want to see me for?”

Roman patted the ground next to him, inviting Patton to sit while he dug through his bag. Roman has always been the tallest of the group but his height was significantly more noticeable next to Patton. He pulled a jar out of his bag, it held an egg with yellow spots that gave off a subtle glow.

“No more dead animals,” Patton pleaded.

“Relax, this egg is empty,” he explained, turning to show Patton where it had broken open. “I saw the baby snake this morning,” he lied, “and it’s very much alive.”

“O...kay. But what does this have to do with me?”

“Well, you were with us that night. What if this is the next spirit? Don’t you want to be part of this too?”

Patton panicked. Of course, he wanted to be part of their group, but what did that even mean anymore? Did he have a choice over whether this spirit- Monster- Thing picked him or not? What would happen if it did?!

“Did Remus have anything to do with this?” Patton asked.

Roman let out a sigh, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Yeeaaah.”

“And you trust him?”

“I don’t want to! But I can’t help but feel like he’s right about this! Ever since he took over, I can’t help but feel like I’m supposed to be connected to you and to this!”

“Roman, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Truthfully? Neither do I,” he confessed. “But please-“ He put the jar in Patton’s hands- “just try, okay? We just need to see what happens.” Roman got up and walked away, leaving Patton completely alone with the jar.

He stuffed the jar into his bag, hoping to forget about it for a few hours. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t do it. The jar was always on his mind through every test, every lecture, and every homework assignment.

Eventually, he had no choice but to face it head-on. He took the jar out of his bag and placed it on his desk, staring at it intently. “What do you want from me?!” he yelled at it. The jar did not answer, as it is a jar.

“What? You- You’re here to torment me?! Because Roman and Virgil are- they’re- UGH!” He slammed his head into the desk and looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight and he could feel himself losing his mind to sleep deprivation.

Tormented by your own mind. It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? This deeply human ability to split oneself in two?

Patton groaned. “I don’t need this. I don’t need to suffer like Virgil and Roman are. I’m- I’m fine just hanging out with Emile. I only need Emile.”

Oh, of course, you’re fine. You got a taste of belonging. You don’t need anymore. You’re perfectly fine with being alone when Emile leaves you.

Tears pricked at Patton’s eyes. “You’re not real.”

Oh that’s where you’re wrong, young one. I’m as real as the earth and sky. I’m as real as flesh and blood. As real as the monster under your bed.

“Get out of my head!” Patton yelled, knocking the jar to the ground. It shattered and he jumped, his heart pounding in his chest as yellow smoke grew from the remains. The smoke took on the shape of a man with his left arm extended towards Patton and a snake coiled up in his hand. The snake curiously slithered out of his hand, though always connected from the end of its tail to the tip of the man’s fingers, and wrapped itself around Patton’s neck.

“Get out of your head?” The snake asked with a laugh.

“First,” the man of smoke continued, “I’d have to get in.”

The snake forced Patton’s mouth open and slithered inside as the rest of the smoke quickly followed, muting the boy’s pained screams and sobs. When all the smoke had cleared Patton found himself coughing and crying with his stomach twisting in knots. He ran to the bathroom half afraid of throwing up and half hoping that if he did vomit he’d be back to normal as if nothing happened. Instead, he splashed water on his face to cool himself down. He looked up at the mirror and hardly recognized his reflection. Water dripped from his face and his hair. He gripped the counter, holding on as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling away into a different universe as he saw himself with one eye hazel and human and the other yellow and monstrous. He frantically grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and made a call that would change his life.

#Sanders Sides fic

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nicoletterogers · 4 years

Text

— && guests may mistake me as ( brie larson ), but really i am ( nicolette "nic" rogers + cisfemale + she/her/hers ) and my DOB is ( 04/17/1989 ). i am a ( detective with the chiacgo police department ) and would like to stay in suite ( 302 ). i won’t be much of a bother because i am ( + loyal & plucky ), but i can also be ( - single minded & impulsive ) at times. personally, i like to ( archery, rock climbing, playing the guitar ) when i have the time to relax, and my favorite snack is ( white cheddar popcorn ) to have in my suite. thank you for checking in!

hello my loves--its me, nika, here with another muse to shower you all with. check below to get to know detective nicolette rogers and her spunky little self. as always, let a girl know if you wanna plot--feel free to send a message to my inbox, hit me up on discord, like this post or send a carrier pigeon, i don’t discriminate between contact options. (tw: death, gun violence, parent leaving/broken home)

B A C K S T O R Y

born & raised in good ol’ chi town--never left, at least not for long. loves it here immensely, couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. mom was a clerk at a local publishing house and dad worked in construction after he finished his tour of duty as an army man. her older brother was a detective in the chicago police department, but more on him later.

mother ran out on the family when nic was eight for her boss, head of the publishing company that she worked for. didn’t even bother to say goodbye--just up and left without a word. her dad was heartbroken and left to support his two kids alone, something he was not prepared for.

see, her dad always wanted sons not daughters, so nic’s surprise arrival was nothing short of a nightmare for him. of course he loved his daughter, but he didn’t have any sisters of his own and had never grown up around women. so he kind of, pushed her into more stereotypical masculine things, as a way for him to not have to worry about raising her any differently. sure there were moments of pure panic for him (hello, time of the month) but he seemed to be pleased with himself.

meanwhile, nic could tell that she was definitely the least favorite child. her brother was always the golden boy and her father spend exponentially more time with him than he ever did with her. however, that didn’t mean that her brother and her didn’t have a good relationship.

nic was often teased growing up because she didn’t have a mom and came from a lower ses part of town. so her brother became her closest friend and she adored him. she looked up to him, tried to be like him. she thought she might get her father to love her if she succeeded.

but the difference was that everyone liked her brother--he was calm, organized and confident. nic, on the other hand, was plucky and sassy and seemed to crave chaos in a way her brother never did. she wouldn’t ever be like him, and it kind of broke her heart to know her father would never be proud of her. so she did her own thing, made a life for herself that wasn’t always emulating her older brother. she was determined to get her life right, the way she was convinced her dad hadn’t.

however, she and her brother were still very close and they’d often have a meal together at least once a week. he’d regale her with stories of his time at the department, and she--working as a beat cop on a completely different schedule--enjoyed giving him a hard time about what he could have or should have done. it was a rather happy time in her life--one she enjoyed for many reasons.

(tw: death, gun violence) but, y’know, life isn’t happy for long. on a cool spring evening, her brother was walking home from weekly dinner with nic. he had taken a longer route than usual because he wanted to enjoy the finally warmer air of the city. as he made his way home, he heard rustling in an alleyway and assumed it as a cat stuck in a cardboard box--turns out it as not, and with a flash of light and a louder bang, her brother was no longer with us. when nic found out, she was distraught. broken.

the only reasonable thing to do is, of course, honor her brother by becoming a detective in the CPD...except her father is none too pleased with this idea and, in one of their famous fights, tells her that “girls can’t do that job.” turns out, that is not what you say to a stubborn, grieving woman because that just makes her do it more. truly though, her father was just terrified he’d lose her too but once again, he wasn’t good with his emotions and couldn’t express that.

so nic became detective nicolette rogers to honor her brother...and to see if she couldn’t solve the mystery of her brother’s passing, finally avenging him. her new role gave her the seperation she needed from the pain of both losing her father and husband and, perhaps for the first time in her life, finally flt.

H E A D C A N N O N S

important note: nicolette never goes by her full name--it’s nic or anything else, but never, ever nicolette.

she is the biggest fan of chicago sports--catch her cheering for the cubbies all day long. and don’t forget da bears.

her last meal would include: a chicago dog from wrigley field with a baja blast and white cheddar popcorn. and probably a slice of cheesecake for desert.

nic loves helping people--it is why she originally started working in the police force to begin with. even now, as a detective, she goes does the youth education program, going into schools and doing workshops for the students in the local school districts (think detective jj bittenbinder but...significantly less creepy).

her favorite show is--yes, cliche but she’s ok with that--brooklyn 99 and she absolutely adores amy santiago.

she rides a motorbike mostly because she likes the wind waving in her hair.

but don’t get her confused--she’s the biggest dork you’ll ever met, loves people and adores babies, and will help literally anyone who asks. her hearts a little...shredded at the moment but she does her best to be good.

P L O T S

Best/Close Friends

Childhood Friends

Police Force Buds

Police Force...Enemies????

Flings

idk im always down for plots leggo

#[[intro; ner]]#[[wake up sunshine; headcannons]]#hi plz plot with me #malnatiooc

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catlordewrites · 4 years

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An Enigma of Broken Wings: Chapter Five

Reeling from the Time War, the Doctor finds comfort in a mysterious creature that no one has ever seen. Things get more complicated when he discovers that this kindred spirit is a member of one of the most feared species in the universe.

Chapter One, Previous Chapter, Chapter Five, Next Chapter

Chapter Five

The next time the Doctor looked out upon the town of North Swafburnfer on the little world Glocnappenspa, it was with a different face; one with soulful brown eyes and a terminally messy head of hair that somehow managed to look decent no matter what the universe threw at it. As soon as the cool breeze smacked him in the face with the promise of rain, the Doctor knew exactly where he was.

“Oi! Where are we?” Another voice complained from somewhere over his shoulder.

“Glocnppenspa!” The Time Lord proclaimed proudly, side stepping out of the doorway so his blonde companion could take a look.

“Glo… What?”

“GLOC-nappen-SPA!”

“Glocnappenspa!” Rose echoed, looking pleased with herself. “Not quite as bad a Raxacoricofallapatorious, is it?”

“Nah,” the Doctor agreed, already strolling off down the muddy street with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. “I came here once before, y’know… oh, not all that long ago…” The Doctor trailed off thoughtfully.

“Does that mean you want to leave?” Rose asked, glancing about the relatively human-looking town.

“Nah!” The Doctor brightened up again, mind evidently made up. “I didn’t look around much last time. Helped a few locals out… and there was… Anyway, this is the lovely little town of North Swafburnfer…”

“North Swaf—“

“Swafburnfer,” The Doctor repeated patiently, not bothering to look back over his shoulder as he continued ambling off down the road. “And tell you what, it must have been a few years since I was last here… or decades. Look.” The Doctor nodded towards the holographic screens that lined the insides of the glass of the shop windows, advertising various products instead of placing the objects themselves on display.

The Doctor turned his attention upwards. “No power lines, either. Last time they had power lines. Must’ve moved on to something else; household matter-energy generators or site to site power transmission via energy beam or…”

“Doctor,” Rose interrupted, eyes flickering about skeptically. “When you were here last time, was it this quiet?”

The Doctor blinked in mild surprise and swept his eyes along the streets more critically. He was forced to admit: Rose was right. The streets, while not having been necessarily crowded during his last visit, were now virtually absent of all signs of life.

“No… it wasn’t.”

He was about to come to the conclusion that the place had been abandoned altogether when he caught sight of a middle aged man exiting one of the shops. The appearance of a life form in the practically uninhabited town did nothing to dispel his concerns. In fact, they deepened as the Time Lord’s old eyes observed the quick, slinking manner in which the man walked. Eyes darting side to side, slinking on his toes like a terminally anxious cat ready to dart at the slightest sign of danger, the man scampered down the street a bit and into another shop. The CLOSED sign was flipped with far too much energy and the blinds slid down over the storefront windows.

“What is he so frightened of?” Rose voiced the question the Doctor was turning over in his own mind.

He had his suspicions, but wasn’t sure enough in them to draw them to the attention of his companion.

“No idea.” He turned to face her with a rakish grin. “Care to find out?”

~0~0~0~

The Doctor remembered the town’s layout fairly well, especially since it had expanded exponentially since the last time he’d walked its streets, leaking into the surrounding forest like a poorly contained spill.

The walk to Saint Stonpul was a short one, full of Rose pestering the Time Lord with questions about the nature of his last visit and the latter sidestepping them as gracefully as he did the puddles scattered along their way. Persistently damp world, Glocnappenspa was.

“Well,” The Doctor mused, coming to an abrupt halt halfway up the hill to the Religious Building, “that definitely wasn’t here before.”

Rose stopped at his side and took in the sight. Down the hill, what had obviously once been dense forest was now a gutted, muddy pit. Large yellow machinery crawled around it like massive hulking insects, digging into the sludge and shoving heaps of mud three times the height of a man from one place to another. The pit itself was massive, practically expanding half of the mountain and into the valley below, surrounded by a vast quantity of chain-link fence that extended further up the mountain to encapsulate what had once been a church, now converted into a makeshift on-site office for the project.

“What are they building?” Rose asked, eyeing the workers ambling about with marginalized suspicion.

“Nothing,” the Doctor muttered, stuffing down encroaching feelings of dread. “They’re not building anything. They’re mining.”

“What for?”

“No idea,” the Doctor said gruffly. “But ‘what’ isn’t nearly as important as ‘where’.”

“Alright, then. Where?”

The Doctor didn’t answer, just responding with a, “Come on,” and starting up the hill towards the building.

They got past the guard at the gate with a flash of the psychic paper, slogging through the well-trampled mud and into what had once been the Worship Center for North Swafburnfer. Rose stopped to knock some of the mud off her boots before entering, but the Doctor strode straight in without a second thought, leaving Rose to catch up with him with a sigh.

By the time she did, the Time Lord had already introduced himself to whom Rose assumed was the Foreman.

Foreman Darrew was a round man. That was really the only word anyone really could think of to describe him physically. Round. Wide as he was tall, which wasn’t saying very much, with a thick mustache and a permanent scowl with a personality to match. Not to mention that the prospect of two State investigators turning up at his doorstep didn’t do much to improve that. Combine grouchiness with a general disposition of someone that dressed and acted like they belonged in a proper household in mid-nineteenth century England, and you had Darrew.

“I must say, a State investigation is completely unfounded,” Darrew sputtered, face turning red with blood pressure. “We’ve received all the necessary permits, and the local complaints have been looked into by the local Protective Social Services…”

“Ooh, they’ve got their own now!” The Doctor beamed. “That’s an improvement form last time.”

“...and have been disproven in entirety,” Darrew finished as if the Doctor hadn’t spoken. “So an investigation is nothing short of a inefficient waste of—”

“Mr. Darrew,” The Doctor interrupted, working hard to keep from sounding impatient, “I understand that you are a very busy man with a schedule, but maybe if you could just give us a quick rundown of these complaints, we could be on our way.”

Darrew opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a woman poking her head in through the open door. With a bony red crest on her forehead, she was obviously not of the same species normally found on Glocnappenspa, which caused the Doctor to raise an eyebrow in mild surprise. When was ‘first contact’ for this planet, again?

“Foreman,” the woman announced in warbling tones, “Mister Actom Gravenn is here to see you.”

Darrew groaned and rugged at his mustache stressfully. “Fine, send him in.”

“Actom?” The Doctor echoed in bewilderment as a rather old man shuffled in the door.

Despite the toll time had clearly taken on him, Actom was still very clearly Actom in the Doctor’s eyes. Something about the shape of his eyes and the spring in his step gave it away.

“Mr. Darrew,” Actom huffed moodily, “in our last meeting, I left under the impression that if I did leave, I would come back to the books I requested boxed and ready for delivery. It’s been a week, and it’s obvious that no progress has been made.”

“Mr. Gravenn,” Darrew growled, “my workers have enough work to do without catering to your face whims.”

“Whims. Whims?” Actom snapped back, voice raising with indignation. “The history of this community is not a whim, sir! And if you don’t comply, I’ll just be back with a State issued warrant.”

“Fine.” Darrew waved a hand absently at the other two people in the room. “If you want to talk to the State, talk to them.”

The Doctor, sensing an opportunity to get the information he was looking for from a more pleasant source as well as catch up with an old friend, bounced over to shake Actom’s hand.

“Gladly! Books, you say? We’d be happy to help, wouldn’t we, Rose?”

“Yeah, sure,” Rose agreed with significantly less enthusiasm.

Actom squinted his old eyes at the overeager man in front of him. “Not to be rude, but you are…?”

“The Doctor,” the Time Lord answered slowly, searching the man’s wrinkled face for any sign of recognition. “You probably don’t recognize me, but we’ve met before.”

The lines on the old man’s face deepened with thought. “I did know a man that went by ‘Doctor’, but he would be very old now, and he certainly never looked anything like you.”

“Oh, that was me!” The Doctor beamed. “I’m not from this planet, I can change my face.”

It didn’t take much to convince Actom that the Doctor was who he said he was. The old man was fairly trusting as it was, so once the Doctor explained his origins a little and recounted a few details from their last meeting, Actom was overjoyed to find that he did, in fact, know the man before him had returned.

“I’d always wondered what had happened to you,” Actom admitted as he led them towards the back rooms of the old building, where they intended to box up more of Old Broodo’s book collection, which had been left to Actom upon the Reverend’s death. “Old Broodo said that you left town, but that was it.”

The Doctor rugged at his ear sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry about that. Goodbyes aren't really my strongest point.”

“The alien thing is a surprise though,” Actom admitted, pulling out a set of keys to unlock the door to the storage room they’d stopped at. “You don't look like the others.”

“Yeah, about that—” The Doctor sneezed loudly as soon as the door opened and he got a whiff of the scent of mold and dust. “—What’s the story behind the other species? I wasn’t aware you lot had had a first contact yet. How long’s it been since I was last here, anyway?”

“‘Bout sixty years.” Actom picked up a book that had been left out and placed it in a box. “The Ablerrions came about twenty years ago. It was a huge mess at first, but everything settled out in the end.” He gave an amused snort. “Bet we could rewrite the books with you, though, seeing as you were technically the first alien on this planet.”

“Mm… better not,” the Doctor hummed. “Stuff like that gets complicated quick. Right, so what’re we doing here?”

Actom sighed. “Packing and moving books. Broodo left them to me, though I never paid them much attention until a few months back, just checked on them and made sure no water made its way in…”

“And then they started the mining?” Rose ventured a guess, joining the Doctor in putting together a few pamphlets into a stack.

Actom nodded. “The State sold the land to an Ablerrion-run company after Alpherdeinianite. Supposed t’be valuable for spaceships, or somethin’.”

“It is,” the Doctor acknowledged, pausing to sneeze again when Rose managed to stir up a cloud of dust. “Alpherdeinianite is for spatial distortions. Ships that go through certain types of nebula line their hulls with it. So they’re ripping up the Labyrinth?”

“The place is riddled with the stuff.” Actom nodded.

“Makes sense,” the Doctor mused. “In large amounts, Alpherdeinianite is known interfere with electrical signals within the brain. Which would explain why people that go inside the tunnels get so disoriented. Really should’ve noticed that last time. Must be getting old.”

“Aren’t we all,” Actom sighed ruefully. “But now that they own the land, I’ve been trying to get Broodo’s collection out of the way before they destroy any of it. Hasn’t been easy, either. Darrew would rather see it burned, but it’s too much to move in any sort of hurry.”

“Well, we’ve got some of it together now,” Rose piped up when the Doctor started sneezing again. “Let’s take what we’ve got and come back for more later, eh?”

Actom agreed and the three started off towards Actom’s vehicle, each carrying a box. Actom’s vehicle could almost be called a car, bright red with five wheels instead of four or six. They made three more trips to get more boxes to fill the available space before climbing inside themselves, Actom and the Doctor in the front, and a disgruntled Rose in the back, squeezed in amongst the boxes.

The Doctor peered around at the more or less empty streets with a critical eye.

“Where is everyone?” The Time Lord asked over the sound of the engine. “Much quieter than I remember.”

“Scared,” Actom grunted.

“Of what?” Rose inquired, leaning up between the two front seats.

“There’s been a rash of murders. People going missing. The Police say they’re looking into it.” He laughed dryly. “But really, no one has a clue.”

“Darrew said something about complaints,” the Doctor pressed.

Actom hummed in acknowledgement. “That’s ‘cause it started around the time the mining started. Don’t be fooled by the lack of religious interest, a lot of the people ‘round here still believe that the Labyrinth is sacred, and that the Creature exists.”

“What creature?” Rose asked, finally more interested now that the conversation had turned away from dusty books.

“Creature of the Labyrinth,” the Doctor answered rather impatiently. “Really really old being that no one has ever seen. It lives down in the tunnels. Sometimes it leads people that get lost in there to the surface, or it doesn’t.”

“A lot of folks think that the deaths and disappearances have to do with it,”Actom confirmed dryly.

“How many?”

“Twelve. Eight disappearances. Four snapped necks.”

Rose grimaced and the Doctor looked grim.

“Does sound a bit suspicious, though, doesn’t it?” Rose mused. “And there aren’t any other leads?”

“No,” Actom sniffed curtly, turning into a long driveway. “Leave it for now through. We’re here, and I don’t want that kind of talk around my granddaughter.”

“Aww, you’ve got a granddaughter?” The Doctor beamed. “Seems like only yesterday you were a child yourself.”

“To you, maybe.”

~0~0~0~

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rosescries · 5 years

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Asterin, The Blind Krait.

A continuation of “How Dare You.” and a look at Rainbow’s new design! Because I have ideas and I wanna! I originally wasn’t planning to do a continuation, but drawing and ideas. Sooo here we are.

I tried a thing, where I colored the eyes in with pen and the eye lights with pencil. I’m not sure how well it worked, but I tried it. Also half of me thinks I made too many scrapes on the tail, the other half likes it. Oh well, too late now!

I did my best with the drawings. Had a little trouble as a pen decided it was going to drop a big blob of ink right onto of the Krait’s face. I was about ready to scream. Hopefully I fixed it enough to wear it’s not noticeable. I tried.

Anyway, the story’s under the cut. The fact that I use an OC is a little more relevant this time around. Soooo yeah.

Krait lamia bitty belongs to @vex-bittys

Content warning! Mentions of violence and abuse. There probably will be cursing.

………...

I kick my apartment door closed behind me, holding the blue, velvety blanket bundle that holds the Krait inside. His head rests on my shoulder, tail wrapping around my waist as an added support.

He’s calmed down significantly in the short amount of time spent with me. Only one week and the little guy is already comfortable enough with me. Apparently, that’s just a typical trait of Kraits, I believe. And not very surprising to me anyway.

I got him to the shop as quickly as I could, having to detour and stop many times as I got lost and had to look up directions. The Krait didn’t say a word the entire time, just shivering and trying to cry as quietly as possible while trying to make himself as small as possible. But I managed to get him to the shop where he was quickly whisked away into the Infirmary, other lamias (which I was informed where called Papythons) checking him over.

The owner of the shop, Miss Vex, talked to me about what happened and asked if I was intending to adopt the Krait while we waited for the Papythons to finish. I decided I would, pretty spur of the moment but I don’t regret it. I couldn’t say no to the frightened little lamia curled into my coat.

The quick changing of hands and all the noise didn’t sit well with him. Only made worse by the fact that he couldn’t see, as we found out. The poor little guy is blind. Whether it was something that was always there or recently happened, we don’t know.

Luckily, there wasn’t too much damage. Well, not anything that couldn’t be healed. There’s unfortunately cuts and fractures that will scar and worryingly dry scales and cold temperature. His previous owner hadn’t been giving him the daily baths he required or given him anything warm to ward away the coming chill.

We left the shop with instructions on proper care for the lamia and any supplies that were needed. I did eventually have to take back my coat, which the Krait seemed reluctant to give up, but the warm blanket the coat was switched for seems just as good. The only time he ever wants to come out of it is for his daily baths. But he’s really happy with it, so I have no complaints.

I found he really likes being read to, but is always hesitant to ask for it. So I just make it a habit to read him a chapter or two every night. I also found he really likes to be held, or just have some physical contact, but is very hesitant to ask. He’s always a little surprised when I pick him back up after setting him down for a few minutes while I do something I need both hands for.

Something else that I’ve picked up, he hates it when I go near his fangs. I don’t do it purposely, but he always flinches when my hands get close. I’m not sure what that’s about and I don’t really want to know either.

Some of this, I was expecting. After all, I was told that Kraits, blind Kraits especially, do like being close to their owners. The amount of hesitation in asking for anything is understandable, unfortunately, so it’s a good thing I’m great at reading faces and emotions.

It was what helped me pick a name. I decided referring to him as “the Krait” or “little guy” wasn’t enough and tried to find a suitable name that he also liked. It came to me when I was reading to him. The chapter I was reading had the characters outside star gazing and talking to the moon, which he just lit up at. I quickly found out he’s fascinated with the stars and moon, which gave me the perfect name; Asterin, which means star.

He liked it.

He liked it quite a lot. He couldn’t stop smiling for hours after I offered the name. And so, he was named Asterin.

I look down at Asterin, finding he fell asleep on the trip home. So I settle myself in my chair and settle him into a more comfortable position to nap in, gently stroking him back to sleep when he began to stir at the movements. The peace only lasts a few more minutes, unfortunately.

“RAINBOW, YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT!”

“Holy fucking shit! Kiaria! What the hell?” I yelp, Asterin startling awake. I quickly try to calm him, and my own racing heart, down.

“What? You gave me a key,” the Kitsune blinks innocently.

“I gave you that key for emergencies. Not so you can sneak into my house and scare the crap out of me like a gremlin,” I grumble, shooting her a look.

“Same thing,” Kiaria shrugs. She then looks at the bundle and bitty clinging tightly onto me. “Aw, who’s this? When’d you get a baby?”

“This is Asterin,” I reply, watching as he becomes less tense and relaxes once more. “I adopted him recently.”

“He’s so cute,” Kiaria coos. “But what’s with those?”

She points to his tail, where there’s still a few bandages wrapped around it.

“He was rescued,” I reply vaguely. Kiaria frowns, but seems to get it. “That said, could you please keep your volume down?”

“Poor little guy,” Kiaria sighs, plopping down onto a couch. “But I guess you’re the perfect rescue momma, huh? With... you know.”

I roll my eyes and give her another look.

“What? It’s true,” Kiaria shrugs. “I’m kinda surprised you did take him in. You’re usually against anyone getting close and emotional bonds and all.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m friends with you aren’t I?” I grumble. “Besides, I’ve grown out of that. When are you going to let it go?”

She shrugs with a mischievous little grin on her face. I huff out a breath, glaring at the nine-tailed fox.

“Asterin, this is a friend of mine. Her name’s Kiaria,” I tell once I realize I never did introduce her to him. He tilts his skull towards her, lifting one hand to shyly wave at her. Seems to take everything in her not to squeal.

“I love bitties. They’re so cute,” Kiaria sighs happily. I smile a bit at the blush spreading across Asterin’s cheekbones. He just cuddles more into the blanket and I. “Oh, Echo’s going to love this.”

#bittybones #rosey writes #blind Krait #mention of violence #mention of abuse #rainbow #kiaria vulpine #traditional art #this ended up longer than i expected #oh well #this little guy will be loved #a lot #thanks for reading #rosey's art

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

Text

Partner search!

Hello all! I’m looking for a skilled, experienced 1x1 partner or two for a Discord roleplay. I have a few particular plots, though please feel free to come with your own ideas. Please read to the end as there is a password I won't answer messages without.

•General/Writing Style•

I usually prefer sticking at around 4 paragraphs and up, but quality over quantity for the most part. If you usually write 3 paragraphs or less, it'll be hard for me to stay interested, however. I would prefer you write in 3rd person, past tense. Please have decent grammar and spelling, varied vocabulary and sentence structure, as well as decent syntax. Please provide me something of substance to respond to in your responses. Please also be somewhat experienced.

•Age•

18+ only, but 21+ preferred (I'm 23)

•Timezone•

Mine is EST. I do not mind what timezone you're in.

•Response Frequency•

I'd prefer if you could respond at least once a week. I'm a pretty busy student can't definitely commit to much more than that, so I won't ask that of you. Please try to communicate when you will be gone or significantly less active for several weeks or more. I will try to do the same.I'm a bit less lenient with this when we're still doing introductions, so if we've barely said hello but a few days pass and I hear nothing, I'll assume you're no longer interested or never were in the first place and close our discussion. You are free to assume the same of me.

•Genre•

I'm a sucker for Romantic Slice-of-life with a healthy dose of drama and angst, but I do like to weave other genres in there too such as Supernatural, Mystery, Action, and Adventure. I'm really open to most things if the plot interests me.

•Gender and Romantic Preference•

I strongly prefer playing a female main outside of MxM. Beyond that, I am open to MxF, FxF, and MxM . Currently, I'm mostly in the mood for an MxF or possibly F//. My apologies, but please note I do not play male in MxF unless we have roleplayed other pairings together before and have highly compatible writing styles. I rarely double up.I do not engage in dichotomy personality dynamics(ie- dom/sub, ABO, top/bottom) and like pairings to be close to even as possible in contributions to the relationship. If a scene gets intimate, I'd prefer we fade to black.

•Plots/Creativity•

The plots I’m looking to do atm are listed below. Despite this, you're more than welcome to share plots of your own. I'd prefer it if you are open to brainstorming plot points and bouncing ideas off each other too- let's keep this interesting for both of us so it stays alive.

•OCs•

I would prefer not to roleplay with OCs that are excessively shy, Mary-Sues, or OP. Additionally, please ensure your own OC does not monopolize the plot with their own issues and background. Let's share the spotlight.I tend to play multiple characters and would prefer if you did too.Please do not control my main OC or any named side characters I introduce. It can really mess with my plans with them if you suddenly auto-kill out of nowhere or something... If necessary, I may permit you to control a side character of mine, but please run it by me first. Communication is key.

•Platform•

Discord is strongly preferred. I can potentially be convinced to use kik, tumblr, or line.

•Fandoms•

I am willing to roleplay within the universe of several fandoms, but please note I do not roleplay as canon characters and would prefer not to roleplay with canon characters either. Please recall that I am more than happy to do original plots too if you aren't into any of these.-Corpse Party**-Black Mirror-Death Note-Avatar The Last Airbender*-Downton Abbey-Call The Midwife*-Dragon Quest(IV-IX)***-Miraculous Ladybug****(I'd love to delve into the more subtle, darker elements like the consequences of a broken miraculous and time travel)-Fruits Basket**-Soul Eater*-The Hunger Games-Harry Potter(The number of * indicates craving)

•Original Plots•

(Muse I would like to play is bolded. If neither are bolded, I can do either. All of these are open to brainstorming and tweaking!)

Muse A was born into a society where ‘falling in love’ is not a thing. Sure, it’s written in about fairy tales and even history texts, but most Readers laugh it off as a silly, archaic concept. All couples are formed by reading Cerebral wavelengths, stats that are unique to every individual. Every person has a single match and are paired with that person permanently when they come of age. No trades, no take-backs. Muse B, though born into the regular world, doesn’t believe in love either. Perhaps it was the plight of their parents, or that one nasty breakup. Perhaps it was the sight of all the couples around who’d be lovey-dovey one week, but strangers the next. Whatever it is, they don’t buy it. That suits Muse A just fine- their Cerebral wavelengths not only don’t match, they bang together in a cacophony. Why is it then that these two begin experiencing an undeniable pull to each other?

One night, Muse A is taking their usual jog through the park when they trip right over Muse B tying their shoe. Cliche start is cliche, I know, but stay with me here. After some initial awkwardness, the two hit it off quite well. Flash forward a week or so and the pair are starting school in the same class, Muse A as one of the typical debutants, and Muse B a lucky upstart on a basketball scholarship. Muse B had high hopes for where things’ll go…only to find out Muse A has a boyfriend, who happens to be Muse B’s nemesis on the courts. Whoops. But something’s really off with the couple. As in the boy is downright awful, and it isn’t just the rivalry talking. Yet Muse A refuses to leave him…why is that?

(This is an older one of mine, but I’ve recently kinda been in the mood to start it up again.) Marianoh’s Culinary Institute is the most renowned school for culinary arts in the country. Any who truly wish to be a master chef would be foolish not to attend. Unless they don’t have the means- the tuition is insanely high. Muse A is part of the lucky few of humble beginnings that has been selected to attend via scholarship. They couldn’t be more excited. Muse B, on the other hand, comes from a family of celebrity chefs. Their spot at Marianoh’s was confirmed before birth. Yet, somehow, they don’t share Muse A’s joy. Far from it, actually. What happens when the two are partnered up for the year?

(A brand new one definitely open to suggestions) St. Cornelius’ Academy(or University) is an academic institution reserved only for those of royal or noble background as well as their future servants, attendants, and body guards. Students of the academy hail from kingdoms where individuals are born gifted with control over the 8 elements- light, wind, flame, flora, lightening(tech), water, earth, and darkness. Students are divided based on status into ‘Golds,’ ‘Greys,’ and ‘ The ‘Gold’ category includes all royalty and nobility aside from viscounts and barons of low birth. The ‘Gray’ category includes future ladies and men in waiting, other servants, attendants, and body guards. Students are instructed in all areas in order to best prepare them for their future roles from political science to etiquette to combat. Given the wealth of a portion of the student body, the campus is a vivacious display of luxury, featuring lavish gardens, seemingly endless grounds, state-of-the-art learning facilities, and even an expansive kitchen headed by a world renowned 31 star chef. Currently, I have three potential pairings in mind for this set-up.

-Muse A is a new lady in waiting assigned to a spoilt, catty Duchess of Aquaria(Water Kingdom). Catering to the every whim of the young princess-to-be is exhausting, but her goal of reaching far greater heights than her questionable background merits keeps her going. What faster way to do that than catching the eye of Muse B, the princess’ bethrothed and crown Prince of Aquaria using abilities bequeathed to her by her merpeople ancestry? The lines between acting and reality are prone to blurring, however and actual feelings soon begin to muddle her plans. Muse B isn’t as unaware as he first seems either..

-Muse A is the somewhat naive prince of Angion(Flora), unsure of his future. He’s distant from his fiancée, Muse B a cold, proud Marchioness of the same kingdom, and his closest confident is one of his newest body guards, Muse C. Little does he know, that Muse C has quite the secret- she’s truly a girl whose taken on her brothers identity to serve. What will happen when all comes into the open?

5. Muse A has always been at the top of their class since early elementary and thrived on it. They come from a family of high achievers where failure is neither seen nor accepted. Proud and arrogant over their achievements, their grades make them, them. All that changed when Muse B showed up, smashing the entrance exams with marks unheard of. Of course Muse A wouldn’t take that lying down, thus, the classic rivalry begins. What happens when the two find they have more in common than they thought? Life on Muse B’s side is not all it seems as well.

Contact Instructions: Please message me here on tumblr (https://lisanimelis.tumblr.com/) with your favorite color and a writing sample. If all goes well there, we'll move to discord.

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #messenger #submission

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yaboymercury · 5 years

Text

Ripping 9 to 5 - Sailor

(Re upload since the original was flagged for the pic)

Joining the navy seemed to be the only way for Sam to escape his parents constantly pestering him about why he didn’t have a wife yet, since he really didn’t want to have to own up about his sexuality, at least not yet. Also being a repressed gay soul he found the purely masculine energy on the ship refreshing.

Being a gay sailor seemed to feel like a bit of a stereotype for Sam before he joined the ship but when he finally did, he found out the rumour had some truth to it. He hadn’t seen anything too explicit but he was certainly getting a certain recognisable energy from a lot of the guys and some of them seemed to be very touchy with eachother occasionally.

But in spite of all of this Sam only really had his eyes on one of the guys. He didn’t even know his name but he saw him from over the other side of the kitchen sometimes. He has rust coloured hair and deep penetrating eyes which he had made contact with on occasion. But of course what caught his attention most was his beautiful bouncing ass which filled up the back of his white trousers very comfortably. The man also seemed to be quite popular and outgoing having an overbearing presence which made people around him want to get close with him.

In spite of all this Sam was quite introverted and struggled to find any reason to talk to the man. But he did feel a sense of urgency since he could tell that a few of the other men had their eyes on his amazing ass as well. He would have to make a move soon.

But instead it all seemed to happen by chance, and not go exactly the way he imagined.

Sam had finished his duties for the day when he was on his way back to his room to collapse on his bed. He was so exhausted he didn’t realise that there was someone walking close behind him so when he stopped for a moment to get his bearings the person behind him pushed right into him pushing him onto the ground.

“Oh shit shit shit! Sorry I should have been paying more attention you had kind of distracted me, let me help you up.”

Sam turned around on the floor to be greeted by the beautiful sight of the man he recognised from all the time he had spent staring at him, who was bent over outstretching his hand with a bashful smile.

Still lost for words and staring agape at the man helping him Sam accepted his hand and was helped up.

“Shit I’m so sorry about that.. I haven’t seen you around here much since recently, I’m John”

He said shaking Sam’s hand which he was still holding from helping him up.

“Um Sam, my name is Sam and thanks for helping me…”

Before he could continue he felt a sharp pain in his ankle and winced in pain his knees falling a little and he stupidly fell into the chest of John. He couldn’t help but notice how strongly he smelt of sea salt and sweat.

“Crap I think I sprained my ankle”

Helping him find his feet again John said apologetically.

“Shit I really did hurt you, well it’s a good thing my room is close my I have a first aid kit to see if I can do anything.”

Sam blushed at how kind the man was being but also found himself lucky that he was getting so close to John so quickly and it didn’t even have to resort to scheming.

“Yeah sure that sounds great, mind if I get some help though” Sam asked as he slung his arm around John’s almost comically wide shoulders so he could hobble next to him on the short walk to his room, making sure to get more deep whiffs of his masculine aura.

The cabins on the ship are all quite basic and John’s was no exception housing only a desk with some drawers and a single bed. One thing which was very common also on the ship was bad lighting so the dim light lead to an oddly rough and sensual atmosphere in the room.

John invited Sam to sit on the bed while he bent down and fished in the drawers in the meanwhile bending down so his ass was only centimetres away from Sam’s face.

The temptation was strong for Sam and the least he could do was take a weak sniff just to get more pheremones from this beautiful man. When he did the result surprised him.

Unlike the relaxing yet strong salty scent the rest of John had his ass was significantly more musky and dirty smelling even through his thick trousers. With only a short inhale Sam coughed a little prompting John to glance back at him.

“Oh crap I’m so clumsy today, my ass is almost right in your face and i guess it might smell a little bit, umm I guess if we spend more time together you’ll find out why.”

John was now crouching at Sam’s knee holding a ice pack to where the bruising was on his knee. Opting to be braver than he usually was, and overlooking the majority of John’s sentence having forgotten the smell Sam asked.

“So you want us to spend more time together?”

The question certainly got John’s attention as he looked up from Sam’s knee and dropped the ice pack in shock. His shock then turned into an interested smirk as he pushed himself of the floor put his arms on either side of Sam on the bed and brought his face mere centimetres away from Sam’s.

“I could see that working”

And after that sentence they both simultaneously joined in an hungry kiss. In that moment the tension in the room lifted as both men realised they had the same intentions.

Finally breaking from the embrace John stood up fully and walked to the door.

“Is it okay if I lock this?”

He asked Sam suggestively being unable to hold back a grin.

“I would expect no less” Sam replied lifting his shirt off and walking up to John as he finished locking up and lifting his up as well.

As Sam lead John by hand back to his bed there was a deep rumble in John’s stomach.

“Shit” Sam heard John mumble to himself “Not fucking now”

Lifting his head up to make awkward eye contact with Sam John asked “Will it be okay if I just head outside for just a minute or two?” Sam thought it was a little weird nodding but luckily John continued saying “Don’t worry I’ll be right back” with a wink as he walked to the door.

Unfortunately for him it rattled a little as he pulled at it and he tried the key but it was jammed.

“Shit, shit , shit” Another stereotype Sam was beginning to notice was the whole swearing like a sailor thing.

“You alright over there?” he asked half knowing the answer “Your ‘situation’ can’t be that bad can it I really don’t mind you being a 'giver’ to be honest it’s a preference”

His lewd proposition went completely over the other man’s head who seemed to be sweating a little and looked quite panicked “No it’s not that kind of situation, well not completely…”

Sam was quite a naturally helpful kind of guy so he wants to calm him down walking up behind him. “Sorry I feel quite stupid I have no idea what you’re alluding to but it can’t get too much in the way of the fun can it?”

John was far too busy panicking looking at the door lock to fully prepare for Sam to out his arms around his waist and put his crotch on his ass. The motion was intended to revive the sensual atmosphere but all it did was increase the bursting pressure inside John and finally lead to release.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAP

The unmistakable sound rocketed right against Sam’s barely covered member and being completely in shock from what happened the pleasure from the powerful vibrations came as a surprise and lead to the man letting out a wholly involuntary moan. But of course right after this the rank meaty fishy blast of air reached his nostrils. Sam sometimes got really bad gas himself and working on a ship meant he was around some bad smells all the time, but nothing even on this level. It felt like the inside of his nose was burning and he began to wretch at the terrible stink.

Skipping all embaressment however all John could focus on was the moan that he got out of Sam. Spinning around the face the man who was violently coughing into his fist he said almost accusingly: “You enjoyed that, you moaned, you got pleasure out of that!”

His face lit up from his seeming discovery of a fart fetishist, not giving any time for Sam to recover from the smell he continued. “So I’m sure you can tell by now that I’ve got terrible gas, it’s pretty much constant, but don’t get it twisted I love it, the feeling of relief and the smell of my own brew, but I’m sure you can tell that it could be debilitating sexually. But it seems like I found my solution!” He finished his speech grabbing the still wretching on the lingering stink Sam by the cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.

“Since I started noticed you in the hallway I have been holding in my gas, so I’m not really sorry to say but you deserve this since I guess it’s kind of your fault…. but hey you enjoy it” John said pulling Sam over to the bed.

Finally recovering Sam began to understand John’s misunderstanding but not knowing how to articulate himself he just stuttered on his words and couldn’t finish a sentence, which John just translated into excitement which was actually a massive panic.

Before Sam could do anything he had been pushed down on the bed and John was getting into position to squat over his head. He was freaking out but this was his one opportunity to properly tell John what he was feeling but then he caught sight of that ass again.

It was now hovering around above him almost hypnotising him with its beauty. Stinking beauty.

In his distraction he had missed all of what John had been saying, but he didn’t care he was taking of his trousers and now his underwear. His ass had a layer of hair getting darker nearer the crack which Sam loved and began salivating at the sight of it even getting a little peek of the hole inside.

“..so I’m sure you won’t mind using my flatulence as a substitute when you inevitably run out of air” He finally registered what John was saying and it scared him back into reality but by that point it was too late. Sam could barely finish saying 'Wait’ by the time he was engulfed in John’s gorgeous pungent butt.

He hadn’t even ripped one yet but the smell of his ass was overwhelming and becuase of how massive it was Sam couldn’t experience anything else except muffled hearing of what John was saying.

“Ahhh I’m so lucky that your hot face makes such a comfortable seat, literally I can feel your nose right in my hole!” Sam thought that was kind of a compliment? But the last part certainly scared him. He thought he could maybe get used to this but then it begun.

“Think the canons are ready to fire Sam so prepare for impact”

PHRRRRRRRRRRRAP

FRRRRRPPPPT

RAAAAAAAAAARPP

The sound and the smell of the flatulence was tenfold due to Sam being stuck in the abyss of John’s ass and all of the stink was free to go up his nose. It was rank, the powerful meatiness and fishiness but altogether rotten rancid stench made Sam feel like he was inhaling toxic fumes and his eyes even began to water.

In contrast to this John was moaning at the relief of letting it out.

“Oh god Sam I can even smell that up here and god I’m a stinker I can’t help but be proud of it” Sam could hear John say as he began to rub his ass even more into Sam’s face. Sam could even tell John was beginning to jerk off, at least someone was enjoying this.

FAAAARP

PUUUUUUUUUUUUURAP

RRRRRRRRRP

The cacophony of gas continued and Sam began to buck and attempt to scream into John’s ass for freedom.

“Oh it’s good to hear you’re enjoying it down there, you really are a bit of a slut for my stink.” John said as he began to jack of Sam with his spare hand.

'Wait’ Sam thought 'How the fuck do I have a boner?’. He was stuck under a hot man’s ass being forced to inhale his anal pheremones. Thinking it over it did make a bit more sense.But it didn’t stop it from stinking so much!

The farts and moans from John continued as Sam’s grip to consciousness began to slip, but the hand job from John was about to pay off. But at that moment John stopped turned around and looked at Sam’s sweaty face and placed his ass cheeks around Sam’s pulsating dick.

“Oh you look a little rough and God damn your face reeks, but I can only blame myself for that, but if anything I think you look cuter.” He said with a wink.

All Sam could get out was “Fuck you stink…”

“Haha I Know but you love it, so let’s finish this”

And with that he pulled his dick one last time cumming all over your chest and simultaneously let out his last blasting fart to forcefully vibrate Sam’s cock past the point of climax and lead to one of the stinkier orgasms of his life.

Sam couldn’t help but let out a moan which was stopped short by a deep kiss from John which when over they both inhaled, with Sam coughing on the residual stink of the room while John took a proud whiff of his handiwork.

John pulled the blanket over the both of them and pulled Sam right into his chest not caring about the cum.

Whispering to Sam he said “So now we know eachother a little better I propose you share this bed with me on a more permanent basis… I’m sure I can pull a few strings… Let’s sort out the technicalities in the morning. Goodnight and smelly dreams”

Excited but terrified at what this meant for him Sam didn’t even notice the cover being pulled over his head. One rancid rip under the covers from John and Sam was out.

#eproctophilia #fart #fart story #fartfiction #gay #gay fart #stink #male fart #flatulence #r9t5 #man fart #reupload

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diego-hargreeve2 · 5 years

Text

light in the dark

Part Twenty Four

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Netflix)

Ship: Diego Hargreeves x Original Character

Warnings: Language, abuse (emotional and physical), mental illness, violence and, in later chapters, smut.

Taking the bets tested her math skills - but it freed Al up. Diego might (did) roll his eyes, but she felt sorry for the old man. He was impatient and grumpy with little interest in manners - but he wasn’t a bad guy. Eve had an inbuilt radar of creepy men, veered away from talking to guys just because of her gut feeling, and she never got that from him. So, she talked, and she helped, and now she sat with a book, writing down the bets and the names and the money in clumsy printed letters, each one a separate undertaking she struggled with.

Al was on the door and Diego with his friends, but she was tucked away behind a counter and inwardly aglow at feeling useful for once which cancelled out some of her anxiety at being alone in a room full of people.

She didn’t recognise the man who approached but he didn’t set off her alarm bells. Pen in hand she looked up and waited for him to decide who he wanted to back.

“So who would you recommend I put my money on?” He asked, arms folded on the counter as he leaned close to be heard.

“Diego Hargreeves is a sure thing, but the stakes aren’t high” Eve told him, loyal to her boyfriend.

“And if I wanted to take a risk?”

The odds were laid out on paper she pushed toward him, but Evie didn’t understand them fully - she just took the cash, Al handled calculations. She did know though, from listening, who was expected to do well, and which fights were close.

“Tate, vs Lopez, or Smith, vs Pell. Tate really wants the win” she admitted and the stranger grinned.

“You spend a lot of time here? Big fan of boxing?” he asked, his gaze focused on her face, the expression so intense Eve couldn’t meet it. Prolonged eye contact was always a struggle for her; having somebody stare into her eyes made her feel vulnerable and exposed. She never knew how long to meet somebody’s eyes before it became invasive, she never knew if it was too soon to look away without seeming like she was hiding something. Far easier to avoid beginning the interaction than agonise over how to manage it. Fiddling with the pen she held instead Eve shrugged.

“I’m here a lot. I’m not…I’m no expert” she admitted, unsure why this was necessary information. Was he unsure whether to trust her advice? Most people just approached, handed over the money and told her who they were backing, and left with a receipt. To be interrogated felt odd.

“But you know who to bet on? Who’s desperate for a victory?”

“I hear things” Eve admitted. She lifted her head a little, but he was still watching her closely, and she rapidly ducked her head forward again, hair tumbling forward from the movement of her head.

“Alright. You’ve sweet talked me into it” the stranger announced, one hand reaching out to catch a golden curl resting on the counter, but his fingers barely caught the loose tress before she flinched backward. Her sudden movement didn’t put him off though as he kept speaking. “I’ll put twenty on Tate”.

Relieved that this interaction was back on tracks she could understand Eve straightened up again and began recording the bet on a fresh line. She held the pen awkwardly as she wrote, betraying a lack of experience as she began to fill in the columns.

“What’s your name?”

“Jake. Jake Thomas. I can give you my number too”. The line was delivered with easy confidence and a flirtatious smirk, both wasted on Eve who didn’t look up from her careful printing.

“Al doesn’t need phone numbers. I’ll give you a receipt and you have to come claim in person from him”.

“The number was for you, honey” was the teasing reply, one hand reaching out to cover her own fingers, stopping her from writing. She froze under his touch, staring down not at his fingers but her own, willing them to behave, terrified they’d betray her. That frightened her more than he did, her eyes wide and round as she watched her pale skin for tell-tale signs.

Her nerves didn’t escape his notice, even if he entirely misunderstood the reasons for it. His gaze on her face his hand lifted, reaching for her chin to try and tilt her face up so he could meet those huge blue eyes.

What his next move was neither of them would find out. Diego had been watching, the fact he wasn’t close by didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping tabs on his girlfriend. He saw the guy approach, saw the hand reach out to catch a ringlet and at that point had begun to extradite himself from the conversation. He was already walking when the man touched Eve’s hand – and it was lucky for Jake that Diego wasn’t wearing his knives, or he might have found himself short a few fingers.

Diego grabbed his wrist, knuckles tight as he yanked, freeing Eve from the touch.

“Watch yourself there”. The words could almost have been deemed cautionary, a warning, except for the clear threat that thrummed through his voice as he dropped Jake’s arm on the other side of the counter while Eve withdraw both her hands and hid them from sight.

Perhaps he should have let Eve tried to handle it. Maybe the guy was just being overly friendly. Frankly, it hardly mattered – Diego wasn’t the sort of man to stand around while somebody else touched his girl.

Part of him liked people looking, knowing that her looks gained admiration stoked his pride and his ego. Since she started to peel away the layers she used to shelter in there had been a few looks, and they just made Diego smirk although Eve hardly ever seemed to notice them herself. But to touch? Now that was another matter. That stopped being funny – both because the gentleman Grace had instilled in him wasn’t going to stand by while Eve was made to feel uncomfortable, but also because a far more primal possessive part wasn’t going to tolerate some stranger’s hand on the body he thought of as his.

Jake glanced between them, the skittering gaze moving significantly slower than the synapses in his brain as he guessed the situation; watching the stranger figure it out, Diego folded his arms, the movement flexing the muscles in his biceps enough that they showed through his shirt.

Evidently Jake wasn’t an idiot, holding up both hands, palms out, as he took a step backward.

“Just placing a bet” he insisted, lowering one hand to fish some folded bills out of a pocket and toss them forward onto the counter in front of Eve. “Didn’t know she was yours man, no harm no foul” he insisted; his statement entirely undermined by the wink he threw toward the blonde. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as confident in the face of Diego as he pretended, given that he walked away without the receipt. Diego watched him leave for a moment before turning back to Eve. He adopted the same pose Jake had, folded arms resting on the wood, leaning forward on his elbows.

“You alright angel?”

“I am now” she assured him, her hands re-emerging and slipping across to hold onto his forearms.

“I didn’t know I had to station a bodyguard here for you”, the comment half teasing, half concerned as he searched her face. Eve laughed softly, shaking her head.

“One guy with weird taste and you think I need to be protected?”

“Nothing wrong with his taste. Less said about the rest the better” Diego insisted, unfolding his arms to catch her hands in his, entwining their fingers.

“I’m fine. Besides. Bets are about to close” she pointed out, glancing toward the clock.

“Maybe I will teach you how to fight. Then you can break the arms of guys like that” he said, unconcerned by the time constraints, his grip on her fingers tightening slightly and she glanced at him, curious.

“Why would I ever need to do that when my boyfriend likes to play hero?” she teased gently, and he smirked lazily.

“You like that, huh?”

She blushed, reluctant to admit it and unable to deny it. The idea of a jealous, possessive Diego…she did like that. To see him bothered at somebody else flirting with her was more reassuring than anything he could say.

“Maybe. Maybe I need to see it again to be sure”. His gaze darkened slightly, and he leaned forward to kiss her across the counter in the same moment Al called out for the first fight to begin.

“Now you’re just asking for trouble”.

@lovinglydiego @klausbutgayer @reblogserpent @me125 @fatbottomedcurls @rhymesmenagerie @mrsdiegohargreeves @eleventhdoctorsangel @carryon-doctor-lock

#light in the dark #my writing #diego hargreeves x oc

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dream-girls-evil · 5 years

Text

Episode 8 Reaction

Hi kids! Sorry, I know I promised this yesterday, but I was so stressed about work that after I got my assignment done I completely checked out lol

That episode was alright. I’m significantly less interested in things that don’t involve the coven, but I’m glad we’re kind of starting to see pieces fall into place.

Michael Langdon

Cody really got to show off this episode! He’s a great actor, and as much as I don’t like feeling sympathy for the Antichrist, I do like that they’ve made his path to evil not so clean cut.

That opening scene with Michael and Cordelia was amazing.

It’s so in Cordelia’s character that she offered Michael a chance--even now knowing he’s the Antichrist and being completely prepared to go to war, part of her still genuinely wants to help him.

As I mentioned in another post, I think she does see herself in him. They both know a thing or two about living up to your parent’s expectations.

Problem is, she has no idea what she’s done to him. She only has the story up until Michael left the Murder House--that he was abandoned and rejected by everyone who was supposed to care for him until meeting the satanists. But she doesn’t know that he had anyone to love. She just knew Miriam Mead was a follower of his who killed a warlock, so she got the same punishment that anyone who harms a witch or warlock gets.

She also, I think, overestimates how much he really is like her. Pre-Supremacy Cordelia was desperate to please anyone who offered her a kind word, and she crumbled inward when they hurt her. As much as I hate to say it, believing that he would accept her compassion was either arrogant or incredibly naive.

Okay, so Michael really does just fuck off to the woods to think sometimes lol he’s literally such a teenager

This entire scene was super trippy.

Did anyone else catch the Bible parallels with that angel and the kid offering Michael a soda? It reminded me of the story where Jesus goes into the desert to fast and is tempted by Satan, except reversed? I guess? Not super clear if those were actual angels or Dad’s test to see if he was strong enough to resist.

The angel man in the diaper made me very uncomfortable

Also asking the goat if it was his father just made me remember that kid’s book “Are You My Mother?”

The Satanists

Lol the actual church of Satan must be so pissed about this portrayal

Michael literally has a replacement mom for his replacement mom

Tbh, I wonder how inadequate Michael feels with everyone talking about how they expect him to ride in on a black horse and lead them all.

“Nobody gave me an instruction manual” he is literally every Millennial ever

And he looked so weirded out by everyone fawning over him, it was so funny

Gotta say, I was disappointed that there were no creepy morphing shadows following him around or setting people on fire with his mind, just normal throat-slitting (though setting that girl on fire with his mind later made up for it)

The Scientists

COCONUT HEEEEEAAAAAADS

Oh my god everyone’s hair is SO weird

Venable looks SO weird--but hey, she’s back and scathing as ever!

S/O to all the people who theorized she might have been one of the nuclear scientists--we were kinda close!

It’s interesting though that she didn’t actually meet Michael. I wonder how she’ll get roped into the Cooperative in the future.

And now we know where the “purple” thing comes from

And THE SONG

Ryan Murphy simultaneously exposing his crush on Ryan Reynolds and vendetta against Mark Zuckerberg

Speaking of the Cooperative, original theories were split between whether this was a group of powerful people that Michael worked for or something he actually created with the satanists, and it looks like it’s actually a mix if all the powerful people in the US have made deals with Satan.

And now we know how Mead ends up a robot!

So, they created her totally from scratch. Does that mean Cordelia still has her actual soul hidden?

Michael Langdon casually calling Satan “Dad”

Next Week

Okay y’all, we only have two episodes left, and I seriously don’t know how or if they’re going to wrap this up. There’s still TWO YEARS between now and when the coven even arrives at Outpost Three, not to mention that they’ve only JUST arrived and still need to actually defeat Michael. My suspicion that this arc will extend into next season is growing, but also...

The preview for next week shows the bomb dropping scene from episode 1, and Murphy’s picture of the witches on Instagram looks like they’re in the aftermath, so I wonder if we’re in for more time jumps. I really hope not. I just don’t see how they’ll wrap everything up in the next two episodes without making it feel rushed and skipping scenes that fans would really like to see. I want to know what the coven has been doing to survive during the 18 months between the start of the apocalypse and actually catching up to Michael. And I really want to know where Zoe, Queenie, and Misty are by then. I swear to god, if any of them die, especially Misty--

Speaking of Misty, THEY’RE IN HER SHACK!!! I really have no idea if Misty herself will be there. She could have gone back after returning to the coven and the others go to her when Cordelia gets sick, or she could be with Stevie and the witches head there because they know it’s safe. Tbh, as much as I want Misty to be back in the next episode, I like the idea that the witches head there without her better because if she hasn’t been back yet, it means Cordelia is the one who’s been taking care of it. The last time Misty was even there was when she ran from the witch hunters, but the mattress has been replaced, her radio fixed, and it looks like a bathtub installed.

I really, really do think that Cordelia has been keeping everything in order these past four years to prepare for the day she finally got Misty back. And remember how Myrtle said that Cordelia wandered off for a couple days after becoming Supreme? The shack is 100% where she went, because that would have been the one and only chance she had to mourn privately before actually assuming leadership. I think the witches went there when Cordelia got sick not because they hoped Misty could heal her, but because they know the shack is Cordelia’s safe place. Then I want them to contact Misty and tell her Cordelia needs help, just so we can see her reaction when she comes back to her home for the first time and realizes that Cordelia’s been taking care of it all this time.

Also, I’ve had this one-shot idea forever of Cordelia visiting the shack for the first time to mourn after she dies and walking around touching everything to try and get visions of Misty’s life, and DEAR LORD I WANT A FLASHBACK SCENE WITH A VOICEOVER WHILE CORDELIA TELLS MISTY ABOUT DOING THIS.

#american horror story #ahs apocalypse #ahs spoilers #apocalypse spoilers #misty day #cordelia goode #michael langdon #wilhemina venable #miriam mead #foxxay #goode-day #ryan murphy #there's still hope for goode-day #ahs theories

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