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alilbitofdoodles · 3 years

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Gingerbread Kisses

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Rating: T Paring: Elizabeth x Meliodas Word Count : 1788 Warnings: Language, Suggestive themes Summary: What had started out as fun Christmas baking turns into something a little more spicy when hands begin to wander. A Christmas Special! Gratuitous domestic fluff for that warm cozy feeling~ Ao3 Link: 📖

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When he walks into the apartment, the first thing he notices is his normally bleak and unloved kitchen now decorated with random Christmas knick knacks and other themed kitchen paraphernalia. From nesting bowls shaped as Santa and his reindeer to measuring cups painted with red and white peppermint stripes; the sight was both sickening and endearing. Christmas seemed to lose a little bit it's magic with each passing year, but the colorful lights and whimsy of it all always put a smile on his face.

Now Christmas things on Christmas eve were normal.

But the next peculiar thing —that most definitely wasn't there when he left—was the overstuffed bag on their kitchen table. As Meliodas toes off his boots, curiosity gets the best of him and he decides that getting the tiniest peek should be fine. He stalks his way towards his tiny kitchen and dips a finger into the bag—

"Ah ah ah, no touching. I need those for tonight."

Meliodas smiles and turns to his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow. Elizabeth is looking awfully cute and comfy in one of his hoodies and her seasonal fuzzy fleece leggings. He lets his eyes linger a bit longer, mentally debating if she’s wearing anything else underneath, before speaking.

"And what exactly are you making here?"

"Gingerbread!" Elizabeth exclaimed, then happily leapt into Meliodas' arms to nuzzle against him. They pull together like magnets and immediately fit together like it's second nature. His head tucked beneath her chin and his body snuggled against her in a warm, full-bodied embrace. Her smell—warm and sweet like amber vanilla with a touch of honey—floods his senses and immediately he feels at peace.

Truth be told, her hugs are his favorite part about coming home.

"Mmm, you're so cold. You knew it was going to be freezing and you still didn't take a jacket."

"Your love keeps me warm." He cheekily replies and brings her hands up to give each of her palms a tender little kiss.

Elizabeth rolls her eyes, but despite herself she smiles. "You just want an excuse to get all handsy."

"Like I need an excuse." Meliodas scoffs in mock offense, "You're so soft. So warm. I'm absolutely freezing, save me Ellie." He gives her rear a firm squeeze and she blushes hard. Meliodas snickers at her highly entertaining reaction, but she only cutely pouts and huffs at him.

"We have all the time in the world for that later," Elizabeth promises, "Right now I need to focus on these cookies. Can you start the prep? I need to change into something that's easier to move in."

Cooking definitely isn't his strong suit, but he'd get it done—for her. Maybe if he were lucky he could even sneak in a few flirty innuendos or track white flour handprints all over her clothes afterwards.

"Sure thing." Meliodas grinned wickedly and pulled away; not before giving her bottom a swift pat while she walked away because, well, damn that ass though.

---

Meliodas could not get it done.

He tried, he really did. It had started out fine enough when he got out the hand mixer, it’s only when the ingredients got involved did things get messy.

"You're a child." Elizabeth scolds while using a wet rag to wipe away the sticky molasses dripping down his cheek.

"No, I'm a baby—your baby." Meliodas corrects, daring out his tongue to graze her fingertips and laughs when she squeals.

“All you had to do was cream them together...Oh gosh—How did it get in your hair?”

"Talent," he confidently states, "Just in the other direction."

It had only taken her a couple of minutes to tie up her hair and change into a tank top and shorts, but he still somehow managed to make a mess of everything.

Elizabeth sighed, but a warm smile followed soon after. "It's fine. Baking will be much more fun with the two of us anyways."

While Elizabeth cleaned up the dishes, Meliodas went to work mopping up the floor and wiping down the counters.

After that was finished the two began to start over from scratch.

Elizabeth tended to mix up the ingredients and Meliodas always overexerted the simplest tasks, but somehow it had worked to their advantage. He'd point out that she'd pulled out the salt instead of the sugar and she'd step in whenever he was being too forceful with the dough. Though both of them were bad cooks on their own, they were able to compensate for one another's weaknesses.

As a result, they managed to cobble together a 4x3 row of gingerbread piggies (she had insisted that these cookie cutters were much cuter and he strongly agreed).

"Into the oven they go." Elizabeth said, pleased, "I can't wait to decorate them!"

Meliodas pressed behind her with his arms wrapped around his waist and tiptoed to peer over her shoulder. He's surprised the thing even managed to heat up. His oven was actually quite old, but it was still apparently serviceable. Quite frankly he's never touched it much due to his abysmal skills in the culinary arts, but he's survived just fine on ramen noodles and hot pockets.

His lips brushed against her bare shoulder as he spoke, "How long do they bake for again?"

Elizabeth slightly leans into his embrace and ponders for a moment, "The recipe said around ten to fifteen minutes."

His fingers dip beneath the hem of her shirt and absentmindedly brush against the skin there. “So...what? We just watch the oven the entire time? I could think of a better way we can spend those fifteen minutes.”

Elizabeth snorts in amusement, "Baking cookies turns you on?"

Meliodas chuckles and buries his laughter into her shoulder, "No, but these buns do." He swings his elbows back and unceremoniously grabs a handful of her butt with a cheeky smile.

She squeaks and spins around to face him. “I-I said we’d have time for that later!”

He dips his chin between her cleavage and nuzzles his cheek against a plush breast. “Isn’t it later now?” He inquires with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and grin. But the anxious bite of her bottom lip has his heart beating fast. It's only when he sees the faint pink dusting the bridge of her nose and cheeks that he knows for sure.

Suddenly there was silence.

Both of them staring and searching, testing the other, gauging to see who’d make the first move. Though no words were being exchanged, the intensity of the atmosphere felt too strong to be ignored.

Meliodas is searching her blue eyes and desperately trying to read the unspoken language beneath them. Even if words aren’t spoken, his heart can clearly decipher the message.

In that moment, with his pulse racing and jitters running up his spine, he just knew he had to do something.

Especially when she calls out to him in the softest, most endearing little voice. “Meliodas.”

That’s when he remembers that Elizabeth has this special type of magic.

At least he thinks she does. She has to because it’s like she has his mind in a trance. He knows for a fact that the moment only lasted a few seconds, but when she closes her eyes and leans in it feels like an eternity.

Inhale.

Elizabeth nervously licks her lips before her eyelashes flutter close.

Exhale.

She brings her right hand up to tuck the stray hair falling past her cheeks while she slowly descends closer to him.

Inhale.

Finally, the tension sweetly releases when her lips gently press against his. It’s like a breath of fresh air—soft and subtle like a tender breeze. And then the world shifts, His vision blurs, Rational thought evaporates from his mind, bit by bit, until reality escapes him all in a rush.

And all he can think is just Elizabeth.

Somehow her kiss just makes him feel like he matters—like he’s the only thing that matters most in the world.

Elizabeth gently brushes her hand along the nape of his neck, tickling the bits of hair there, and he’s hypersensitive to it all. There’s a little bit of pressure against his neck, her fingers coaxing him into returning the affection with little encouraging rubs, and immediately it pulls him under.

His body moves before he can even think. His own hands find their way to the dip of her back to pull her closer until he feels her curves superimposed against him. Meliodas desperately slants his mouth over hers while shifting his head the tiniest bit with every kiss. Soft, wet smacks of skin against skin spurs him on into sliding his tongue along her bottom lip—silently asking for permission.

Elizabeth eagerly follows suit and the next few minutes after that were a blur. Slender fingers grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. His own hands sliding across her heated skin.

All he can think of is soft.

So soft, so soft...every part of Elizabeth is so warm and fluffy and he's desperate to feel more of her.

Meliodas grabs her by the waist, gently directing her back more and more—both of them awkwardly stumbling, refusing to part from one another—until she's pressed against the cabinets. He's rolling his hips into hers and relishes the gasp he feels against his mouth. Her breath is hot and uneven as she grinds with equal fervor, haphazardly clutching at whatever her hands can grip onto.

Meliodas tightly hugs her against his body to keep her from falling back, wrapping his arms around her waist in an attempt to close the space between them as much as possible. His fingers slip through her silky hair, letting it down from it's ponytail, and he groans when Elizabeth's fingers dig into his hair to deepen their kiss.

His body is burning up and the feeling is molten hot coursing through his veins. He’s practically shaking from the ferocity of it all. The heat is quickly searing away what little cogent thoughts he has left and he swears he could smell—

Meliodas' eyes go wide. The thick, pungent smell of smoke jolts him alert, but Elizabeth is quicker than him to realize what happened.

She prys herself out of his tender embrace and fumbles her way over to the oven with a worried string of curses.

“Ellie! Are you okay? Was that the—Oooh…well shit.” Elizabeth sulks while pulling out the tray of charcoaled sugar, gives them a sad look over, then sets them aside to cool. “So, uh, the cookies burned?”

“The cookies burned.” She affirms with a heavy sigh.

“Well…” Meliodas scratches his head with a sheepish smile, “We always have been bad at cooking.”

#melizabeth #meliodas #Elizabeth Liones #my fics

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shijiujun · 4 years

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tell me baby

A gratuitous sick fic for Inspector Qiao, and he finally eats from the spoon Lu Yao offers him because third time’s the charm - Inspired by this gifset

===

It’s a slow day at the station today with all their leads dried up, but Youning and Lu Yao are investigating outside right now and Chusheng doesn’t doubt that the both of them will turn up with new evidence soon enough, if not have the whole case solved when they return at the end of the day.

There isn’t much to do but to sign some papers and ensure everything is properly documented. When Boss Bai first asked him to be Inspector, Chusheng hadn’t quite thought about the ridiculous amount of paperwork that passes through his hands every single day.

Still, his tasks for the day don’t take much physical activity, but seated in his chair at his table, it takes everything Chusheng has to concentrate.

His limbs are numb for some reason, and every single movement makes some part of his body ache. It’s not like they’re in the deep of winter or even anywhere near autumn, so there’s no reason for him to be feeling this cold.

Exhaling shakily, he wonders just what the hell is wrong with him today.

Chusheng swallows with difficulty, his throat bobbing with the action. Glancing at the empty mug at the corner of his table, Chusheng is certain he just took a large gulp of water, so why is his throat this parched?

“… Inspector? Inspector Qiao?” asks Ah Dou, who’s standing in front of him with a confused look on his face, “Are you… okay?”

He doesn’t feel okay, but Chusheng doesn’t know why he would feel anything but.

“Hnn,” he makes a noise of assent, clearing his throat with a frown. “Just leave it there, I’ll look at it later.”

He’s finding it a little hard to breathe and with frustration, Chusheng tugs at his tie, loosening it. Ah Dou still hasn’t left, staring at him with his brows furrowed.

“What’re you still doing here?” asks Chusheng, leaning into his chair. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yeah but… Inspector, you really don’t look so good,” Ah Dou persists, which is very unlike him. “I think you should go to the hospital if you’re feeling unwell-“

“You’re not usually this nosy,” sighs Chusheng, sounding more tired than reproachful. “I just have a headache. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll get you a cup of warm water then,” Ah Dou says, oddly considerate today, but Chusheng isn’t lying about the headache, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Standing as Ah Dou picks up his mug and starts to walk in the direction of the coffee table where the water flask is, Chusheng begins, “Ah Dou, I don’t need-“

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because he’s keeling over in the next moment, nearly braining himself on the surface of the table if his hip didn’t strike against its edge first, and he lands in a messy pile on the floor instead. The ceiling slants above him, and gosh, he’s so fucking thirsty-

Someone is calling for him, but he can barely hear anything outside of the ringing in his ears. As dark spots fill his vision, Chusheng thinks maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to skip a trip to the hospital yesterday night after that ambush at the docks.

Right before he slips under, all he remembers is promising Lu Yao that he would pay for five baguettes today.

===

“Are you an idiot? Did you not bring your brains out to work today?” is the first thing he hears when he wakes up.

Disoriented, Chusheng blearily surveys his surroundings, dazed. He’s floating a little and everything seems overly yellow and green, and it feels like he’s been asleep for a little too long. He doesn’t usually sleep in, always up at the crack of dawn to train and keep in shape.

Turning to the side slowly, that’s when Chusheng sees San Tu seated in a chair next… next to his bed.

The man looks displeased, his arms crossed over his chest and looking more petulant than angry, and Chusheng knows he’s in trouble.

If he tells anyone that he, Qiao Chusheng, one of the Eight Martial Arts Masters of Shanghai, is a little cowed by Lu Yao’s frown, they would surely laugh at him.

Memories of how he landed in the hospital resurface in his head. Chusheng looks towards the glass pitcher at the bedside table, and luckily Lu Yao isn’t too angry to ignore him. The man pours him a glass of water, before helping him to sit up a little, fluffing the pillows behind his back as Chusheng drinks slowly but liberally, because he’s really, really thirsty.

“How long have you been doing this?” Lu Yao asks then.

Confused, Chusheng blinks, “Doing what?”

“This is just like that time, when Zhi Qing-ge kidnapped me and you rescued me but refused to tell me!” Lu Yao snaps, and Chusheng winces. “At least you went to the hospital then with Youning. Guess what the doctor said to me earlier? That the wound on your right side was infected because you didn’t treat it properly and it was continuously bleeding when it needed stitches!”

“You said you didn’t get hurt in last night’s raid,” Lu Yao says, glaring at him.

“I-“ Chusheng begins, but Lu Yao cuts him off, “And then the doctor says you’ve got other scars on your body that look rather recent, ones that even Youning didn’t know you had. How long has this been going on?”

“San Tu,” Chusheng sighs, “It’s okay. This is nothing-“

“Nothing? Ah Dou freaked out when you fainted on him earlier! What were you thinking? He said you looked unwell all morning and refused to listen to him when he asked you to rest. Qiao Chusheng, do you think this is a joke?”

It’s not the time or place for this, but hearing Lu Yao utter his full name for the first time, Chusheng feels a chill run down his spine. No one has ever dared to call him out like this.

He likes the way his name sounds on Lu Yao’s lips and how angry his San Tu looks right now.

Clearing his throat, Chusheng musters a smile instead, “San Tu… I’m used to this. I just miscalculated and I’ll be more careful next time. Don’t be angry. I’m the patient here, you know.”

“Next time?” Lu Yao asks, incredulous. “You’re thinking of a next time?”

Knowing that Lu Yao will probably go on if he doesn’t do something, Chusheng reaches out and tugs at Lu Yao’s arm until the man sits down quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Chusheng repeats, and frankly, part of him is a little touched that Lu Yao is so angry at him. He’s never had anyone angry at him for something like this.

“San Tu, if you don’t stop yelling, the nurses are going to come in and-“

“Chusheng-ge!” a yell comes, and both men flinch.

Lu Yao sits back and relaxes as Youning storms in. Chusheng pales, and his hand raises as if to facepalm, but Youning is quicker. She looks ready to give Chusheng hell on Lu Yao’s behalf too, and that she does.

===

Lu Yao, when he’s not distracted by antique wares or expensive restaurants or his English books, is a pretty self-sufficient person who can take care of himself. He’s a little vain, timid and dumb on some counts, but the man can cook very well, knows how to clean up after himself in a way that Youning still forgets to sometimes.

Chusheng himself can cook, but he eats takeout or heads back to Boss Bai’s house for the occasional meal more often than not, so when he wakes up next to the aroma of pork ribs and old cucumber soup, he has to pause for a moment.

“You’re awake,” Lu Yao says, glancing at him with narrowed eyes, probably still pissed off that Chusheng tried to hide his injuries from him. “Eat up. The doctor said you should have some soup.”

“Where’s Youning?” he mumbles, still groggy from the drugs and this is exactly why he hates hospitals.

“She went back home first, she’s got a draft to rush out tonight. This soup was on the stove for more than four hours. Man-jie told me that I should cook it under a smaller fire for more than three hours, so you should try it.”

Lu Yao scoops out a spoonful and blows gently at it, before bringing it to Chusheng’s lips.

When the man simple stares at him, Lu Yao glares, “Why would you- you don’t want to eat again? I cooked this myself when I could have been sleeping and even Youning helped to stare at the fire for an hour, and you still don’t want it-“

Chusheng cuts him off mid-rant, leaning forward and eating from the proffered spoon obediently.

“… how is it?”

“Hnn,” Chusheng hums, looking at anything but Lu Yao, “It’s passable.”

Suddenly, Chusheng realizes how close Lu Yao is next to him seated on the bed. He’s not used to being in Lu Yao’s care- or anyone’s care for that matter, and this whole thing is jarring, to say in the least.

“Passable?” Lu Yao scoffs, but scoops up another spoonful for Chusheng anyway.

Chusheng bends his head to reach the spoon again, and at the last moment, it dawns on him again how strange this whole thing is. He moves back, saying, “I can eat on my own-“

His eyes go wide as Lu Yao ducks in and kisses him, cutting him off. Chusheng can swear his mind goes blank.

When Lu Yao finally pulls away, there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, and he’s not looking at Chusheng either. Clearing his throat, he puts the bowl into Chusheng’s hands.

“You should finish the soup,” Lu Yao says, picking up his jacket from where it is lying over the chair, “I’ll settle your discharge with the doctors.”

Chusheng looks up, blinking, “San Tu-“

“And you better not do this again,” Lu Yao finally meets his eyes again, though the blush doesn’t go away, “Youning and I are going to check you over after every fight. You better not hide another injury from us again, and I’m dragging you over to the hospital if you so much as have a cut!”

That seems a little of an overkill, but Chusheng can’t help but smile.

“And if I don’t listen to you?”

Lu Yao blinks. “Then- Then I’m never-“

“Never going to kiss me again?”

“Never going to make soup for you again,” Lu Yao enunciates firmly, but his ears are now red too as he turns on his heels quickly to escape the room.

Chusheng laughs to himself, shaking his head. Licking at his lips, he wonders if Lu Yao would give him a repeat performance later, but he supposes they have all the time in the world for that now.

===

The next time they get caught in a shootout, as promised, Lu Yao and Youning (and even Ah Dou, hovering a few feet away and trying not to get caught looking at him) make him take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves and lift his shirt a bit to show that he’s fine.

The rest of the officers pretend they’re not looking, even though a shirtless Chusheng at the station is nothing new.

Of course, when they get home, Chusheng lets Lu Yao do a close-up inspection.

In the privacy of their room of course, so that Lu Yao can inspect every inch of his body thoroughly.

#my roommate is a detective #民国奇探 #qiao chusheng #lu yao #chuyao #fic #mriad #ignores canon #set sometime after all the drama and politics go down #and lu yao's fam is begrudgingly ok with lu yao in shanghai #solving crimes

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selfcareparker · 3 years

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okay fghsgdj yes you can say girl ! my pronouns are she/her :) okay but fr pause, i read this like 3 minutes after you posted it (or at least my notif said 3mins lmao) bUT IM IN BED AND I USUALLY HAVE MY COMPUTER OPEN WITH YOUR RESPONSE SO I MAKE SURE I ADDRESS EVERYTHING AND THEN SEND IN THE ASK ON MY PHONE HDGSJSH anyway, time to get my ass up 😔 but wait i find you so funny like honestly, reading that cracked me all the way up. and i feel the “lol” thing so hard!!!! idk why i do it all the time (i’m tryna stop) but i’ll say something with lol at the beginning and lol at the end... it might be a defense mechanism at this point lol (😔) AND (i need to stop with the uppercase too it’s not funny anymore) I DONT KNOW WHY I LAUGHED SO HARD JDHSK WHEN YOU SAID ALSO AGAIN HAHAHAH LIKE UR HAHHAH also my sleep schedule is not pretty either lmao but i’m homeschooled so i never have to get up for anything? hhdhsis idk but i’m glad you slept!! you need sleep!!

also (pls no i cannot) why did i not know what ykwim meant until i reread this?? like it makes so much sense- anyway! i think it’s so cool that you’re excited for university! idk why but i do lol like you’re getting ready for the future (masters degree and all that) & you’re (maybe) going to england anyway so that’s cool haha (hopefully when you go you can see your relatives 🤞🏾)

the fact that you get happy seeing my asks i- 💓💓

you make me wanna go to London & England so bad urghhhh like i’ve only been out of the country once (to Canada for a family reunion) but it sounds so prettyyyyy & i’m so sorry that cov*d is messing everything up and i hope you can see your relatives soon :(

now to address the whole english speaking/writing: I FIND THAT SO WEIRD DUHSKSJ i don’t know how an english speaking person could say that if you don’t write it 100% grammatically correct.... that it’s wrong? when literally, over here at least, WE’RE SO GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT HAHHAAH in both the way we talk and write!! and lol you’re welcome,, AND THE PARAGRAPH DID MAKE SENSE HDHSJSH & your rant is fine because... that is actually a bit ??? bc no one writes with 100% grammar lol

OH MY GOSH (see this uppercase thing is addictive) YOU STUDIED LATIN FOR 6 YEARS??? that’s really cool 🥺 the way that you know/speak 3+ languages i- NOT EVEN 3+ LIKE 6+ (german, english, latin, french, serbian, italian, and everything that comes with latin lmao) even if it’s just a tiny bit like wowee. it is really fascinating!!! i had the opportunity to take latin and i... didnt. i took art instead BUT ONLY CUZ MY FRIENDS WERE IN THAT CLASS AND ART LOOKED FUN IM SORRY

PLEASE WHY DO YOU KNOW EVERYONE?? that sounds so fricking cool tell your mom (mum or mama it’s really fine lol) that she sounds awesome. i think Jamaica would be fun either way!! i mean it looks pretty from pictures? i was a baby so i honestly have no recollection hahaha

LMAOO NOT U SAYING THIS IS LONGER THAN SOME OF MY FICS- PLEASE GIRL IM TELLING YOU I VERBALLY LAUGHED HAHAHAHAHAH but yea you really don’t need to apologize i like reading everything you say 🥺 HDKSHS AND UR FINE WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT ME BEFORE uhhh hmm uhh lemme think i, well, i saw chaos walking yesterday (big tom holland fan over here) and it was alright.. my mom acted a fool at all the jump scares LMAO but it was funny... since i’m talking about movies (this is hella random i know) but i like shark movies HDKJSSJ my favorite is the meg (it’s so good ohmigosh) and the 47 meters down movies aren’t bad either... i have two younger brothers... iiiii AM IN LOVE WITH MUSIC PHEW anddd i’m homeschooled (i think i mentioned that lol) i think that’s a good amount ahahaha AND IM HUNGRY RN JDHSJ

now. please. let me address the edit. i just want you to know that.. when i talk about your fics and i finish them and everything i’m not looking for more? like obviously if you’re writing i’m gonna read it but you don’t need to feel pressured or anything (idk if you do) to put more fics out lol like they’re great and i’m just sending the praise bc i love the ones that are there :’) but i’m so happy you’re working through your writers block!!! yay so so happy for you!!! and PUHLEASE anything you write is fantastic, i feel the exact same way when i write but girl. you’re fine. it’s gonna be great. (idk if this made any sense but... okay)

(and my cousin calls her mom mama so it’s really okay hahah i even call my mom mama sometimes) (and where you got the number “16 sentences” beats me but i still cracked up) (is this me pretending i had tags? maybe) HAHAHAHA OK BYE ❤️❤️ why did this take me so long to send i have no clue, AND WHY AM I OVERTHINKING EVERYTHING I SAID SHAJSHSJ ANYWAY BYE btw i love us too... like iconic // lovely anon 💓

me reading this:

also the dedication you put into sending me stuff— like with the laptop and phone and ahsksk 🥺🥺🥺

i’ll update you when i’ve started uni btw, i’m getting more and more excited every single day haha but i still have 3 weeks until it starts and even then I’ll obviously have to get used to it and everything, but you’re making me even more excited about it sksjshsg

yeah i wanna go to england too dkshsh let’s be sad together over the fact the we can’t travel eksjsh😔😭 but hopefully the wait will make it even better in the end <33 also i talk to loads of relatives over the phone at least once a week so it’s not too bad for me! but i miss their house 😭lmao

and i knowww snshsh so many native english speakers just make so many mistakes— and obviously i get that some things are slang but some things are simply wrong ajsh, the thing is no one has ever told me that my english is bad (i know it’s not bad anyway, but i’m still insecure) or no one has ever pointed out any mistakes, but yeah it’s mostly just insecurity dkshsg but yes thanks for saying what you said (previously as well as in this ask)😌🥰

Okay now for latin— girlll i don’t blame u for choosing art over latin esp. when all of your friends are doing art as well!! I’d choose art over latin as well lol skshsg but in year 6 we had to choose between latin and french, and at the time i didn’t like french? which was dumb of me and now i wanna learn french ekdhs but i don’t regret choosing latin at all bc if i properly learn french one day then i’ll already know understand loads of stuff (or at least some stuff lol) just thanks to latin 😌😌 but still, art>>>latin skskshshgs

I wanna watch chaos walking too!!! But i don’t get when/where/how it’s out lmao, cinemas are still closed here so i’ll either have to wait or find it somewhere online... il*egally 🥰 i don’t have high expectations at all btw but i like daisy and tom and the dog🥺 so i think i’ll enjoy it

GIRL SHARK FILMS SHARK FOLMS SKSJSHSHS okay so there are a few classics i haven’t watched yet, and also a few new ones that i haven’t seen yet BUT I LOVE SHARK FILMS SO MUCH SKSHSGSGSKK the first like proper shark film i ever watched was the shallows (which i like but my brain is still too small to comprehend what happened at the end (i mean i get it but i just can’t imagine it— idek if you’ve seen the film but skshhs)) and after watching it three times it does get a bit boring (but now whenever i see pictures or videos of big waves i’m just waiting for a shark to show up like come ON SKSJSG

^^^that pic/scene really traumatised me sksjsh but i still like the film

I only watched jaws like a few months ago, and i get that it’s a classic and also that it’s old and they just didn’t have the best.. equipment or special effects or whatever but i mean... look at meg and then look at jaws.... no disrespect to jaws at ALL but the meg is so much cooler. (That one scene on the boat where the shark just JUMPS OUT OF THE WATER AND SKSJSHHSUSJHA i get such a shock every time it’s so good (and the dog aww aksjshssli 🥺🥺🥰 and the boy with the ice cream lmao he’s iconic)

47 metres down, wow, i liked that film too. (i’ve only watched the original/first one i think) i mean that is such a fucking nightmare scenario like ALSJDHSNEMSKDJSHSJSKWBALSODUEWBSLDKHDJSNSKSKSHSGEBWKAISGSHEKEKSKLDJDJDHDHSHAGGA (that’s the best way i can express my feelings about that scenario lmao)

oh and i’ve recently been watching more horror films but i don’t know if they’re for me... I like the thrill and whatever but i just end up being scared for my life when i have to go to the bathroom at night or when i’m trying to sleep bc suddenly my mind is flooded with all the scary shit from the films 💀💀💀

and music i mean... you know those people who just don’t listen to music? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM???? i honestly like all genres especially in the last year, i am IN LOVE with Nicki Minaj + Megan andddd Stormzy and i like Harry Styles but i prefer his first solo album (and obviously one direction has bangers i have a throwback 1D session at least once a month), I also love MGK especially his new stuff and otherwise i mostly listen to german artists lmao. So who do you like?💖 (WHY DO I FEEL LIKE YOURE GONNA SAY SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SKAHAGUS IF YOU LISTEN TO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MUSIC DONT JUDGE ME AJSHDJS) (i know you’re not gonna judge me but)

++ @ the thing you said about writing, don’t worry, i don’t feel pressured at all!!! (not by you and not by anybody else.. except myself sometimes lol) and i’m just very happy that you liked my fics 🥰🥰🥰 and if i start telling people that i’m writing a fic then sometimes it puts a bit of (healthy) pressure on me. like yes sometimes it really is writer’s block, but sometimes i really am just lazy ddkshhd so now that i’ve told you i’m writing a fic i might get my ass up quicker than i would if i hadn’t told anyone 😌😌😌

#ok i wrote some if this on the tube/on the bus/at the dentist/in bed so if this seems like it’s all over the place #that’s bc i was literally all over the place skshg #*of #also i love how you used tags skajahsg #lovely anon #<3 #sorry if some of the sentences didn‘t make sense or were too fucking long i wrote half of this half asleep #and i know i dont have to apologise but still like no one should have to read all my page long sentences that arent even proper sentencesskk

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Take a Chance - Ch 1 First Meetings

Summary: Lukanette college AU. It all starts with a little mix-up. One look in her notebook and Luka is intrigued. One look in her eyes - and he’s in love.

This story came from the prompts for the first week of Lukanette September 2019. I was still pretty new to posting my stories and I wasn’t confident committing to the whole month but I figured, I could manage a week!

This story is complete on AO3

Marinette didn’t get a lot of phone calls, and she never got calls in the middle of the day. She stumbled a bit as she tried to get her phone out and walk at the same time. The number on the screen wasn’t a known contact, but it looked familiar. Wasn’t that Juleka’s number? But then why wouldn’t it show up under Juleka’s name? Frowning, she answered the call, trying not to sound too breathless. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi, I’m looking for Marinette?” The voice was male, so, definitely not Juleka.

“I’m Marinette,” she said cautiously.

“Cool, I’m Luka, I’m Juleka’s brother? I think we might have met once a few months back.”

“O-oh,” Marinette stammered, confused.

“Jules gave me your number because I have something of yours and I’m kinda hoping you have something of mine. A plain black notebook that basically looks exactly like yours, except mine has music inside instead of clothes. Sound familiar?”

“Oh gosh—um, hang on, let me check.” Marinette dug through her bag and pulled out her sketchbook. She flipped it open and her stomach dropped as she found that it wasn’t hers at all. It was full of music notations and scribbled notes that might have been song lyrics. “Yes, I have it,” she confirmed. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz. You live with Juleka right? I was over there this morning and I knocked over a stack of things and I thought I put it all back but I must have switched these. I hope you didn’t need it, I’m so sorry—“

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Luka said, soothingly, a touch of amusement in his warm voice. “As long as you have it, that’s fine. I do kind of need it tonight though, is there somewhere I can meet you and trade?”

“Um, let me think. I’m on my way to class now...it’s Tuesday, so my next break is at 3.”

“Okay, I’m in class until 3:30, but I could meet you right after? Um...there’s a coffee shop near the music building, do you know it? I can’t remember the name, but it has a red awning. I can meet you there after my class is over.”

“That sounds perfect,” Marinette agreed. “I know the place, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.” Luka seemed to hesitate. “Okay, I hope this isn’t weird, but I was wondering if I could look at some more of your sketches? I only saw a few before I realized it wasn’t mine and found your name, but they looked really cool and I’m really curious to see the rest.”

Maybe it was a little weird, but it was also flattering. Marinette appreciated that he asked instead of just snooping through and not mentioning it. “Um, sure, there’s nothing really personal in it, just designs for one of my classes.”

“All art is personal,” Luka said easily, and then she heard someone calling to him. “Shit, you’re right,” he said, voice a bit distant before returning. “Marinette, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go before I’m late. I’ll see you a little after 3:30.”

“Okay, see you then,” Marinette replied, half expecting him to hang up before she finished speaking.

Instead she heard, “See you soon, Marinette,” before the line cut out.

***

Luka headed to the coffee shop with a quicker step than strictly necessary after escaping yet another boring, pedantic lecture from his least favorite professor. He hadn’t even heard half of it, fascinated by the book in his hand. He knew less than nothing about fashion in general and even less than that about the process of design, but there was so much life in the sketches covering the pages of the misplaced notebook. He couldn’t judge her talent, but Marinette’s passion was clear and he was curious about the girl behind the designs.

He found her easily enough, sitting in a booth facing the cafe’s entrance, his composition book placed prominently towards the edge of the table. For a moment, he felt disappointment. He wasn’t sure what he expected, and there was nothing wrong with her exactly, but...she didn’t really stand out, dressed in shades of pink and black, sweet but without any of the edge he’d seen in her art.

But it wasn’t like him to judge on appearances and he silently berated himself as he made his way over to the table. “Marinette?”

Then she looked up and locked eyes with him, and the deep blue of the sea fell into the endless blue of the sky and he swore he heard music.

***

Marinette had met Juleka’s brother once before, if you could call a hurried introduction and hello-goodbye a meeting, as he was rushing out to perform with his band. All she was really left with was the impression of blue, and lean muscles highlighted by body glitter.

She could see neither muscle nor glitter at the moment, but the blue was there, in his eyes and the tips of his shaggy hair. He wasn’t classically handsome but he had an interesting face, and she thought to herself that she’d like to dress him. It would be a nice change from cookie cutter models and he looked like he had a fun style.

He smiled and gestured at the empty bench across from her. “I’m Luka. May I?”

“Oh sure, of course,” she said quickly, shuffling her things ineffectually before realizing there was plenty of room. He slid in across from her, sleepy eyes a deeper shade of blue than her own fixed on her. She blushed faintly without really knowing why and his eyes flicked away.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he said. “I hope It wasn’t too far out of your way.”

“No, it wasn’t too far, and I’ve gotten some work done, so it’s all good. I’m so sorry about the mixup.”

He took her book out of his bag and slid it across the table towards her. “Thanks for letting me look at it. Way more interesting than my music theory class.”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed deeper. “A-are you interested in fashion?”

“No,” he admitted. “Honestly I never thought about it much, I just wear things that are comfortable and make me feel good. But I am interested in art, and I can see now that fashion is art too. So, thanks. For...a new perspective, I guess.”

Marinette couldn’t help smiling, there was something so sincere about the way he said it. He must have a really interesting way of looking at the world.

Which maybe shouldn’t surprise her so much. Juleka was hardly known for conventional thinking.

“I wish I could get as much from yours,” Marinette said, gesturing towards his notebook where it still lay on the table. “Not—not that I looked through it or anything, but just what I saw when I opened it, It’s only gibberish to me, I’m afraid.”

Luka smiled slowly. “You think so?” For a moment Marinette was afraid she’d insulted him, but he only took his notebook up and turned the pages for a moment. Then he laid it back down and turned it so she could see the open pages. “What do you see here?”

She looked, and at first it was only gibberish, as she’d said, a mix of notes and musical terms, with occasional notes that made sense but didn’t, like “dark, flash flood, drowning.” Marinette glanced up at Luka, who was watching her with a small smile on his face. She looked down at the page again, and this time she noticed the dark lines and deep grooves, the places where things were not just crossed out, but scratched through or scribbled black. The whole feel of the page was frustration, maybe even anger. “This,” she said slowly, looking up at him. “This was not a good day.”

Luka’s smile widened. “See? You can’t read the notes, but the feelings still come through. I felt the same way about yours.” Marinette slid the notebook back to him, smiling herself. “Can I ask you something?” Luka asked. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.” He gestured to her notebook again and she handed it back to him. He thumbed quickly through the pages until he found the one he wanted. He put it back down in front of her, watching her face. “What happened?”

The page was scribbled over with thick black marker lines, zigzagging across the dress that had been coming to life on the page. Beneath the thick scribbles, there were notes written around the sketch, some scratched out and some visibly messier than others. Marinette winced looking at it. “It couldn’t do what I wanted to,” she said, after staring at it for a moment. “It was...the dress wasn’t right for the concept, or the concept couldn’t be a dress at all, and the more I tried to fix it the more frustrated I got. Then my TA reviewed my work for the week and ripped me a new one over it, and...I just knew I wasn’t ever going to be excited over it again, so I scrapped it.”

She felt ashamed as she said it, like she was admitting she was a quitter, but Luka just nodded, as if she made perfect sense, then reached over and turned a couple of pages.

“Not that my opinion’s worth much, but this one was my favorite. It just has so much energy. It feels...hopeful. Like it’s waiting for great things to happen.” He glanced up at her, looking uncertain for the first time in their conversation. “I hope that came out right. I’m not always great at explaining things.”

Marinette just stared at him in wonder, a bright smile slowly spreading over her face. “No, I think you got exactly what I was thinking. It’s a first date dress, I mean, that’s what I was thinking when I made it.”

Luka nodded slowly. “Potential.”

Marinette beamed. “Yes, exactly.” She leaned on the table and put her chin on her fist, looking at him with renewed curiosity. He looked back for a minute, and then straightened abruptly.

“I think I’m going to get a drink, would you like anything?” Luka said, sliding from the booth.

Marinette blinked. “Um, yeah, that would be great. A cinnamon latte?”

“Got it. Be right back.”

Marinette sat back as he walked away.

He seemed nice.

***

Do you believe in love at first sight?

He’d heard the question many times before, usually from people trying to pick him up after performances, but until now he’d been largely agnostic on the matter. It could happen, but I’ve never seen it.

Luka was a thorough believer now.

Of course he knew the term coup de foudre but he’d never known it was so...accurate. He’d never experienced a shock to his system like the one he’d felt when he locked eyes with Marinette.

They were supposed to just exchange books and go on their way. He was bad at small talk, he knew it, but jumping into such an intimate conversation hadn’t been his intention either. He fervently hoped he wasn’t scaring her off. He knew his natural intensity could be off putting when he was too focused on a single person, and right now he was very, very focused on Marinette.

Luka ordered the drinks in to go cups, just in case.

When he returned with the drinks he felt a bit better. Marinette looked more comfortable and relaxed, and made no move to flee once he set her drink in front of her.

When he was back in his seat, Marinette surprised him, asking, “So, um, is music your major or just a hobby?”

“Music Ed, actually,” Luka replied, wrapping his long fingers around his cup.

“Really? You want to be a teacher?”

Luka chuckled. “I’d like to be a musician and not starve. Honestly, I’d like to give private lessons so I can work one on one with the kids and still work on my own music.”

“I remember you play in a band,” Marinette said.

“Yeah, we’re playing this weekend actually.” Luka rummaged in his bag for the stack of fliers, grateful for the opening. He pulled one out and handed it to Marinette. “I’d love for you to come.” Her eyes met his again and he felt that same shock run through his system. He wondered if she felt it too.

He flexed his fingers, wishing for his guitar.

#quickspins #take a chance #backlog #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #miraculousladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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taynuz · 5 years

Text

Living Two Lives | Chapter 5

Occlumency Lessons

You arrived outside of Professor Snape's office Monday after you came back from the holiday break. You were about to knock when the door opened.

“And be warned, Potter...I shall know if you have not practiced…” Severus was talking to Harry who looked tired and emotionally drained. Was this what you were about to feel after your lesson with Severus?

“Right,” Harry mumbled. He picked up his school bag, swung it over his shoulder and hurried out of the office. “Professor.” He looked at you and gave a nod.

“Potter.” You nodded back but before you could ask him anything, he had stormed off. Snape was standing in front of you, in the door to his study. He motioned for you to enter and shut the door behind him. You turned to face him and noticed his wrist was red and raw. “Oh my gosh, Severus. Are you okay? That looks like it hurts.” You asked as you reached out and grabbed his hand to examine the injury further.

“Fine, Potter accidentally cast a Stinging Hex during his lesson. I’ll be fine.” You looked up to see if he was just putting on a brave face and found yourself staring into his eyes a hair longer than you intended. You released his hand and turned to grab some ingredients off of his shelf. You had whipped up a simple healing potion without his assistance or any instruction. He was very impressed with your work as you smeared the potion onto his wrist, the color went back to normal and the lashes faded and disappeared.

“Thank you. Now, we must begin. Don’t want it to get too late. The Dark Lord is skilled in the art of Legilimency and, as you know, the headmaster has asked me to teach you how to defend yourself from letting him enter your mind, doing so is called occlumency. To successfully block legilimens, you need to empty your mind and control your emotions. You may use your wand to try to disarm me or block me, I am going to try to break into your mind. Wand at the ready.” You weren’t sure what to expect, you raised your wand and tried to clear your mind.

“Legilimens.”

Images had begun flashing in front of your eyes rapidly. Your third birthday, your father bursting into your party and kicking everyone out after he had learned of Voldemort’s defeat...boarding the Hogwarts Express during your first year, your mother had taken you and told you that she would write as often as she could before kissing the top of your head and waving you off…your fourth year at Hogwarts, the year that the famous Harry Potter had started… Potion’s class your sixth year, staring at Professor Snape and thinking about how he looked so…”NO!” You shouted and fired a disarming charm.

“Well, you’ve done better than Potter already so that’s something to work with.” He picked up his wand and turned back to you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I suppose.” You answered, hoping that Severus hadn’t gotten too far in that last memory.

“Good. We are going to try again. You have to concentrate a bit harder. Legilimens.”

More memories flashed by. Being given tasks by Dumbledore, convincing a Ravenclaw boy to do a Charms essay for you...sitting in the Slytherin Common Room with your two friends, they were teasing you about having a crush on Professor Snape...the office came back into view. Your cheeks were hot as Severus began to speak.

“Much better, you were able to expel me from your mind quicker that time.” He looked proud, you were embarrassed. You knew he saw the one of your friends teasing you. “Last time for the night, controls our emotions, block off your mind. Legilimens.”

This time you could feel yourself straining against his strong push in your head. You pushed forward and opened your eyes feeling more confident than you had before. When you looked up, Severus was actually smiling.

“Excellent!” After he realized he had gotten a bit too excited for your success, he reeled it in and his smile had diminished to a smirk. “You will do well with these lessons. I’m sure we’ll have you protection your mind without realizing that anyone is even trying to infiltrate it in no time.” He escorted you over to the door, you were happy the lesson was over for the day. You understood why Potter looked the way he did when he left, you felt emotionally drained and required a cup of tea and a good night's sleep.

“Is this time next week good for you?” He seemed less hesitant to look into your eyes now, he hadn’t even tried to look away, playing it off as if he didn’t want to offend you.

“Next week sounds great.” Snape held open the door for you to exit. You turned and gave him a small smile as you crossed the dungeons to your room.

A few days later, Dumbledore called you to his office. He had the same demeanor as the night that he asked you to join the Order.

“Professor Snape told me your first occlumency lesson was extremely successful.” Dumbledore had a gleam in his eye, you could sense that he was proud of what he heard from both the Order and from Severus’ report.

“I suppose, sir. I just did what was natural. Severus told me that I would be able to block my mind off completely in no time.” You held back a smile, trying to remain serious and professional.

“I wanted to wait until the school year was over but I feel it is necessary to act quickly. I fear Voldemort’s plans may be unfolding sooner than expected. The reason Professor Snape is teaching you how to block your thoughts and memories is so that you can successfully infiltrate his organization without him seeing that you are secretly working for the Order.” You felt your heart in your throat, Dumbledore was asking you to become the one thing that you swore to yourself you would never become.

“You want me to become a Death Eater, sir?” Your eyes stung as you stopped the tears from coming out.

“I know that this is a big task I am asking of you, far from turning a toad into a goblet. Like I said, I would have preferred to wait until you were better trained in occlumency; but since the attack on Arthur, I think we need to put our plans in motion. Do you trust Severus Snape?”

“I do, headmaster.” Still, not knowing how to process what he was asking of you.

“Severus will be your guide, your protector and your mentor. You see, Severus has been a Death Eater and working for the Order simultaneously. All you need to do is make it look like you want to follow in your parents footsteps. If you don’t feel like you are up to the task, you don’t…”

“I’ll do it.” You interrupted. Dumbledore had told you it would be hard and that there was a chance you could get injured or possibly die. You wanted to see Voldemort dead more than your fear of getting caught. “When?”

“You are going to go home over the next holiday and tell your parents that you heard rumors the Dark Lord has returned. When your father confirms this, you are going to tell them you want nothing more than to fight for him. They will most likely take you to him that night and you will be initiated.”

You didn’t like the idea of not going back to Grimmauld Place for Easter but you had to do what you had to do. You agreed and headed off.

“(Y/N)...if you ever feel like this is too much please let me know. As leader of the Order I have sworn to protect you no matter the cost.”

“So I am to report to you with anything and everything?”

“Yes.” Dumbledore nodded.

“And you will tell me what to do and say next?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you for trusting me with this, Professor. I won’t disappoint you.” With Albus on your side you knew everything would be fine.

“I don’t suspect you will.” He smiled and opened the door for you to leave.

The entire month of January had been incredibly boring, Herbology classes were mainly composed of bookwork inside. The greenhouses had heat but Pomona felt that winter was the best time to get the students written test requirements finished. You had continued your occlumency classes with Severus, he was pleased how well you were excelling but he was not so pleased with Harry. He would tell you about how much of an insufferable dunderhead he was and how he couldn’t understand why Harry was unable to advance at all. You had been doing so well Severus had started trying to invade your mind randomly when he saw you and you were able to stop him every time.

The first day of February all the girls had started wondering who their valentines would be that year. The boys were clueless about how to handle Valentine’s Day. As Valentine’s Day drew closer you, Pomona, Minerva and Septima were pairing couples together one morning at breakfast. Severus came into the Great Hall and walked right up to your group.

“Ladies, excuse me. (Y/N) I was hoping that you would join me at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop this Saturday at seven. I will give you some time to consider.” At that, he turned and walked out of the Great Hall, but before the doors closed behind him he turned back and you noticed your knife had been transfigured into a rose. Pomona, Minerva and Septima all were gawking at you like you had just slapped the Minister of Magic. You buried your face in your hands, your face hurt from the smile that was plastered on your face.

“Saturday? Isn’t that Valentine’s Day?” Pomona said in a sing-song tone.

“Looks like somebody has an admirer. Need I remind you that professor to professor dating is prohibited.” Umbridge said with a smug expression. You weren’t sure how long she had been standing there.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not a professor and just a student teacher.” You replied without removing your eyes from the beautiful flower. “And I’m pretty sure that’s not even a rule.”

“Oh. Don’t you worry. It will be.” She walked away, but the tone of her voice indicated that this wasn’t over.

“So...are you going to go?” Septima was the gossip of your group and loved the drama.

“I want to but don’t you think it isn’t appropriate? Maybe Dolores has a point…”

Minerva cut you off, “Go. There’s no rule about inter teacher dating. I highly doubt Albus would have a problem with it anyway.”

“You think so?” You knew that you were going to say yes but you were too embarrassed to tell the others.

“And if you ever admit that vile woman could be right about anything, I’ll turn you into a teapot.” Minerva joked.

You arrived at Snape’s study for your weekly lesson. You didn’t see Harry leave and thought you were late.

“I cancelled my appointment with Mr. Potter. I felt he needed a week off.” He motioned for you to enter the same way he did every week. You held up the rose that he had transfigured that morning.

“I hope you weren’t interrogated too much after my offer this morning. I didn’t mean to embarrass you…”

“You didn’t embarrass me. The rose was a nice touch. I never pictured you as a romantic.” You said, trying to remain cool.

“Yes you did.” Just that simple sentence was enough to break through your facade. Now you realized how much he actually saw of your memories. “Why don’t we start our lesson,” he said.

You put down the rose and pulled out your wand.

“Legilimens.”

He was able to break through for the first time in weeks. Dumbledore’s office came into view, scenes from just the other day flashed by quickly, the scenes of Dumbledore asking you to become a Death Eater. The room came back into view but you were positive it wasn’t from your own doing. You looked at Severus, he looked worried and angry. He turned and stormed out of his office. Unsure where he was going, you got up and chased after him.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

#severus snape #severusxreader #hogwarts #Albus Dumbledore #fanfiction #HarryPotter #death eaters #Order of the Phoenix

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charmsey · 6 years

Note

How do you determine the price of your art? Ive sold my art at a high price($20-50 for traditional paintings) depending on what it was when I was in high school but since graduating &being in college I havent been able to do commissions. I plan to just start over on my twitter/tumblr for commissions but Idk how I should price my digital work. My range was $5-15 for headshots, simple details$15-25, for complex work$25&up. Sry for the long message &if you’ve answered this! Thank you for your time!

Gosh, I’ve honestly been really indecisive about prices since the very beginning. But these days, I strive to make minimum wage off each drawing. If I get it done quicker, obviously I’m excited, and I’ve made a little more, but as a safety net, this seems like a good rule to follow.It doesn’t always work out, but it’s a good starting point.I know that is really difficult to do if you haven’t polished your technical skills enough, or you don’t have much of an audience yet, which is why I had started out by taking flat icons at $8 an hour!But I don’t recommend that!! It’s really bad, and no no no.

UMM.. I’d say though $5 is too little for any type of drawing. $15 for a head shot is alright, if you can finish it in an hour, you’re making $15 an hour! If you can finish it in 2 hours, then you’re making $7.50. So, just keep all of that in mind and make sure you can work in a timely fashion.

And I’d say gauge that with all your work. Ask yourself how long it takes you to do something. Time yourself while you’re drawing. Make sure you’re not underselling yourself.

Also, my friend’s dad said if you’re opening up for work, and it starts filling up really quickly, that it’s a sign you should probably be raising your prices.

Which I tend to agree with these days, because yeah-- you get less commissions once you raise your prices, and it’s a little disorienting. You know, like where’d everyone go?? But just for example sake, I’d rather get four commissions at $45, than seven commission at $25. You free up your schedule a bit more, which I’m sure you’ll need if you’re in college!

So, maybe that information is helpful too. If I can clarify anything, feel free to toss me another ask! I love discussing art and commission work!

#Anonymous

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stunudo · 7 years

Photo

Closing Time: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction AU

Featuring: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Warning: Smut

Requested by: Anonymous

“ You don't have to write it but can you write a little au oneshot where Emily is a bartender and she owns the bar but is covering for the bartender who usually is there. And she meets this girl and the girl stays with her until the bar closes and something smutty happens? Thnx.💕”

Image is from fanpop.com

A/N: I tried limited third person, I usually write second person for insert fiction. Let me know if it makes sense. xoxo Stu

Your name: submit What is this?

It was a Friday night in the middle of August, a night where the humidity radiates from the stonewalls of the old buildings. Through the heavy alley entrance, she slid her key into the lock, grimacing with effort. All of Emily’s thoughts were how she had had enough. She was done with Trish’s excuses, for the way the other bartenders and servers covered for her and her crappy attitude. As owner of Caps & Tabs for three years, Emily had dealt with her fair share of shady employees. But Trish had earned her dismissal like a stretched out sports bra: something that served no purpose besides a reminder of past dedication and support.

Emily stormed into the back office and hung up her coat, locking her purse in the desk. Shady employees were expected, even thieves showed up to their shifts. Emily rolled her shoulders and double checked her make up. If she was going to be pouring tonight, she wanted to make it worth it. Smiling at her self she nodded in agreement, these suckers weren’t ready for the boss or her generous drinks.

Y/N didn’t know why she had gone out in the first place. Her roommates were drunk before they even made it to the bar, plus all they wanted to do was play darts and be obnoxious. She stabbed the ice in her pint glass with her cocktail spear, the fruit already consumed. The music from the live band was making up for the despondent feeling plaguing her.

She hummed along to the familiar covers and swayed as the music and the alcohol washed over her. Sam, her best friend sauntered over smiling.

“Nice to see, somebody is finally relaxing!” He stood next to the stool she sat on, casually nodding at the barkeep, holding up his drink to signal for a second. Or was it his third? The woman’s dark eyes catching everything, her easy smile acknowledging the request.

“This bands good.” Y/N smiled at her old friend. “You going to dance with me?”

“Nah, I’m on the prowl. Don’t want to give off any straight vibes tonight.” Sam smiled, paying for his next round with cash.

“Dancing to oldies doesn’t scream hetero, you know.” Y/N teased, only slightly disappointed.

“True, but the guy across the bar is eying yours truly as we speak.” Sam winked off to the crowd closest to the entrance. “Don’t look, god, Y/N!”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Rico Suave, you go flirt with strangers. I’m good here.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Watch out for Jacki?” He squeezed her shoulder and strolled away. She sat humming again, watching Jacki wipe the floor with the guys near the pool table. Their roommate was gorgeous, tall and toned yet extremely feminine. Y/N admitted to having a small crush on Jacki when she first moved in, but her personality drove those feelings away quickly. Jacki was also as straight as they come, and her fuck boys come and go just as quickly.

Emily knew Fridays were the busiest day of the week, but seeing her staff hustle hour after hour made her appreciate them more. She bantered with the regulars and dismissed the few people looking for Trish. She may not be handing out free drinks, but Emily Prentiss didn’t skimp on the alcohol. The band finished their set just before eleven and the closing DJ was setting up.

With the nightlife crowd trickling in and the happy hour crowd easing out, Emily collected tips and swapped tills. The less money to count at the end of the night, the quicker everyone got home. She carried the drop bags and the used till into the office. She noticed a woman on her phone lingering near the bathrooms, she shrugged and kicked the door closed behind her.

The woman was still there huffing and pacing when Emily left the office, preparing for the insanity that was to come. After deciding against it, Emily turned on her heeled boot and approached the woman. “Everything alright? Do you need a ride?”

The woman didn’t look up at first, but mumbled dejectedly. “Uh, no, I should be fine. Just waiting on my roommates.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’m bar tending all night. Names Emily. I run this place.”

“Oh gosh, no it’s okay. No big deal. But, yeah, thanks.” She was embarrassed, but Emily smiled in relief. “My name’s Y/N, just in case, you wanted to know.” Emily could finally see the moping woman’s features. Her face relaxing to reveal a timeless beauty. She smiled shyly at the bar owner now.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I will see you around.” Emily chuckled gently and made a smooth exit. Pretty girls were not something she was planning on distracting her tonight, but what could she do? She liked saving people.

Y/N secluded herself in the hallway between the bathrooms and the backdoor for another few minutes, trying to muster up the courage to talk to the hot woman with the dark hair. Jacki had been texting her on and off to appear aloof to the dude bros she was flirting with all night. She really didn’t want to entertain her tipsy roommate all night, but she was keeping an eye out for Jacki anyway. Friends are underrated creatures.

Y/N straightened her shoulders and marched to the bar, waiting coyly on a stool closer to the back than the dance floor. Y/N smiled at the other employees, reassuring herself that the boss lady had initiated contact. She waited until there was a wide opening for the porcelain woman’s attention.

“Mind if I place an order?” She grinned.

“By all means, Y/N. What can I get you?”

“How about Sex on the Beach?”

“It gets so messy though.” She winked and started pouring.

“I take what I can get.”

Emily tisked at the bit of desperation that trailed into the joke. “I think you deserve the best around,” She handed her a tall glass, “Enjoy.”

“Can you put it on my tab? It’s a Visa.” Y/N dropped a five in the tip jar.

“You’re taken care of tonight.” Emily’s eyes drew Y/N into a whirlwind of daydreams. The fantasies coming with each stolen glance or tossed away smirk. She nursed the cocktail and ignored the buzzing of her phone.

Emily hadn’t used her office for after hours meetings since purchasing the bar from her uncle. In these past few years, she had done a lot of maturing while learning the ins and outs of small business managements. Right now, all she was worrying about was learning the ins and outs of Y/N’s clothes. The bar shut off the lights on the few people still chatting over an hour ago. Her bartenders and servers had cleaned up. Emily had walked Y/N into her office after securing the safe, pouring both of them another cocktail.

The bar owner’s lips were gliding over the young woman’s collarbone, slipping her leather jacket over her bare shoulders. Emily trailed kisses back up her exposed neck, resting her prominent nose before Y/N’s ear. “I could take you right here. But I think we would be much more... comfortable, at my place.”

Y/N had her eyes closed, her head rolled forward to catch Emily’s mouth in a wanton kiss. “Lead the way.” Emily linked her fingers with the no longer shy woman’s and headed out the through the back alley.

Y/N was relieved to find that Emily Prentiss lived one block away from her beloved bar. Her airy apartment was covered in wooden floors, framed band posters and abstract art. Y/N didn’t register any of these details until the following morning. Tonight, she was fiercely kicking off her sandals and groping Emily’s ass. It was a scramble to remove their attire and continue the heavy petting that had sent them stumbling towards the bedroom.

Emily’s bed was covered in a dark duvet that was haphazardly draped over itself. Y/N was impressed with the size of the room and the headboard. Emily’s tiny waist kept drawing Y/N’s grasp. Their mouths left imprints on each other, lipstick, love bites, paths backtracked and followed again. Y/N was savoring Emily’s breasts as they fell onto the generous mattress.

Y/N didn’t have many coherent ideas running through her head besides the sensations and images that were all Emily. One fleeting thought told her that going out tonight was one of the best things that had happened to her in a long time. Emily rolled Y/N on to her back, tracing her body in teasing licks.

Emily’s mouth was flawless and merciless, Y/N was a whimpering heap before long. Emily’s skillful fingers traced the reaches of Y/N’s sex, pulling her orgasm from her core. Her tongue lavished Y/N’s searing arousal. Emily wasn’t done with this gorgeous woman yet. Her firm grip, drew Y/N’s hips to hers. Emily enjoyed grinding as long as she got to set the rhythm. Y/N’s sensitized slit collided with Emily’s and they rocked each other over the next precipice.

Their tongues found each other, dancing and tasting until they became a new flavor together. Y/N’s hands had taken over Emily’s momentum, driving the bar owner to a level of blinding pleasure. The connection was rapturous, these women who met in a set of circumstances between annoyance and devotion. Emily’s breath hitched as she whined Y/N’s name into the sticky night air. The sounds of the city faded from their ears as their bodies melted into a dreamless slumber.

@emilyfuckingprentiss @gubl-oser @reidbyers @dontshootmespence @emilyprentissdaily @treatmelikeadamnprentiss

#Criminal Minds AU #Emily Prentiss #paget brewster #emily prentiss x reader #request #stu #emily prentiss x female reader #light smut #wlw #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagine #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfictions

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nervouswreck-96 · 7 years

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Supernova - Chapter 2

“Knuckles? Can you hear me, Knuckles?”

Deep in the back of his mind, Knuckles the Echidna had to be wondering to himself how he even got caught up in this mess in the first place.

Were it not for a sense of personal responsibility, chances were high that he wouldn’t be doing this in the first place. Now, not only was the Master Emerald missing, but he had managed to get himself lost, surrounded by vast monochromatic catacombs of glossy concrete and stainless steel that all looked virtually identical to the naked eye. The echidna relied on his own sixth sense to lure him closer to his destined jewel. Sure enough, throughout his journey, his mind had been receiving signals from beyond.

Unfortunately, they were not the kind of signals he asked for.

A shrill, childish voice entered his left ear, and only his left ear. “Knuckles? It’s Tails! Requesting your position! Knuckles, are you there?!”

Perfect. Just perfect. This is exactly what I needed.

Knuckles had forgotten about those silly two-way radios that everybody had been told to shove in their ears. He wanted to raise an objection to them before they launched their last-ditch mission to infiltrate the ESS-1, but ultimately held his tongue. After all, he had far more pressing concerns to address.

One message in, and he remembered exactly why he had the objection to begin with. He figured it would be quicker if he just got this reply out of the way sooner rather than later.

“Eighth deck! No, I haven’t found it yet! Over!”

He made sure to shout as loud as possible, as he wasn’t sure if the radio would pick up speech at his normal volume. Nor did he care, since he had resolved for this to be the first, last, and only time he would ever use the thing.

Reaching in with the most delicate touch he could handle, he – somehow, with what was essentially an oversized boxing glove – extracted the unit. It was a simple contraption, little more than a foam earpiece with a plastic cap at the end which concealed the electronic components. It was all too easy for someone to crush into dust…which is exactly what Knuckles had in mind when he held the unit above his head, one second away from throwing it to the ground with every bit of his strength.

At the last possible moment, a thought crossed his mind.

No…I might need this later.

Instead, Knuckles opted for the far more sensible solution of toggling the nearly undetectable on/off switch.

With that distraction out of the way, he pressed on, scouring Deck 8 of the ESS-1, twisting his neck at every turn to more effectively scan all possible angles of the route that lay ahead of him. Something deep inside his head told him he was getting closer to his goal. In fact, that “something” turned so painfully loud in its attempts to call out to him that he had to clutch his sinuses in a futile attempt to calm them down. The further he walked, the less control he had of his own basic senses. All sensation of hearing disappeared, replaced by a constant, high-pitched ring that stabbed at his eardrums, as if someone rang dozens of doorbells directly in front of him. No matter which way he turned, the ringing felt exactly the same, throwing off all sense of direction. To Knuckles, this could only be a good thing.

Yes! It’s close! I can sense it!

But then, just as quickly as it began…

“No…no…damn it! Stay with me!”

…the sensation vanished. He could hear clearly again. Yet he couldn’t see or hear any trace of the jewel he was bonded to by destiny. Once again, he had been led down the wrong path.

By this point, he had lost count of how often he had gotten a trace on the Master Emerald only to lose it within seconds. He did know one thing, however; it was one too many. He looked off into the distance and found nothing but white walls, white floors, grey ceilings, as far as the eye could see. Did this hallway even lead anywhere? Had he somehow been led back the way he came? Was there even an end to this grim death march? He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

And this was just one deck. On the flight here, he and the others could make out close to 40. At least.

Not knowing what else to do, the echidna slinked desperately onto the steel floor and pounded his spiked right fist into the surface with enough white-hot fury to leave a permanent imprint. As if things couldn’t get any worse for him, he felt the cold, hard press of an arm cannon against the back of his neck.

Terrific. Just terrific.

“HALT. STATE YOUR BUSINESS.” said Egg Gunner model #E-P455XLY, in its distinctive monotone.

Fortunately, Knuckles’ years of martial arts training on Angel Island hadn’t gone to waste, as he detected the looming shadow before it even said a word. The security droid could not get a shot off before the echidna twisted his upper body toward the right, and a massive spiked fist flew from nowhere to knock the gun into the air. Without even turning his head, Knuckles bent backwards and grabbed the Gunner by its torso, tossing it over his head in a classic wrestling move.

The Gunner’s sturdy construction ensured that it stayed intact even as it hit the ground. That was just fine by Knuckles. He needed it alive. Just to make sure that it wouldn’t escape, he grabbed the droid’s head and pinned it to the floor with an unflinching grip.

Knuckles chose to get straight to the point. “Where are you hiding the Master Emerald?!”

Even though the echidna held the robot by what would be considered its throat, its internal speech processor was not affected. “CLASSIFIED INFORMATION…CANNOT DIVULGE UNDER PENALTY OF DESTRUCTION…”

“I’m not asking twice, punk! Tell me! Or meet a fist!”

As Knuckles tightened his headlock, the bolts holding the robot’s head to its shoulders grew more fatigued by the second. A total structural failure was imminent, and the machine’s on-board diagnostics ensured that it could sense its own demise. Regardless, the Egg Gunner simply could not do something it was programmed not to do.

“CLASSIFIED INFORMATION…CANNOT DIVULGE UNDER--”

Okay, that’s it.

Knuckles wouldn’t even wait for it to finish its sentence before burying a spiked glove deep within the robot’s back. Whatever secrets it carried inside its internal memory would go with it to the junkyard regardless of what he did or didn’t do. Whatever secrets it carried inside its internal memory would go with it to the junkyard, regardless of what he did or didn’t do.

“Well…that was a waste of time,” he said, as he struggled to free his hand from the sparking and sputtering carcass of what used to be Egg Gunner #E-P455XLY.

The stubborn subordinate had given him absolutely nothing of value, except for what little satisfaction he could muster in destroying it. And even that meager reward brought him no closer to the Master Emerald. He was short on time, and even shorter on leads. There was no choice. He had to go back the way he came, back to the original “sweet spot”.

There was, however, one small consolation in all of this. This time, Knuckles didn’t need to hold back his speed to check every possible route, angle, or hiding place. This time, there was one route, one angle, and one target.

“I swear…” said Knuckles, under his breath. “…I will bring you back home. No matter what it takes.” The guardian set off, waiting for the nauseating sensations of the Master Emerald to consume his consciousness once again.

“Come on…come on...”

Like the two tails of his that unconsciously jabbed and slammed into each other as they wagged to and fro, two sides of Tails’ brain were locked in a brutal struggle. The cold, brutal realist in him said there was next to no chance of a successful trace, that Eggman just wouldn’t be that careless. The curious, inventive side of him, the side responsible for the creation of the MilesElectric portable tablet currently in his hands, was simply eager to take its newly-programmed “signal interceptor” function for a test drive. So far, the test looked like a certain failure, if the static blue screen and the blinking white words “SEARCHING FOR SIGNALS…” were any indication.

Certain thoughts ran through the fox’s head. Perhaps the problem wasn’t that Eggman was one step ahead. Was his machine even working? Could there be something wrong with the program he wrote for the signal interceptor? There was no way to tell at this point. The noises emanating from the device were no louder than those from before he started the test. The urge to quit out of the program further enveloped him with each second of inaction. And yet, each time he hovered his finger over the back button whose touch would have ended the process, he could not bring himself to do so. He had to let it go on. After all, a scientist cannot validate the results of his experiment if he backs out while the experiment is still in progress.

Instead, he stood on that spot in front of the engine control room, shutting out the entire universe around him, staring unblinking at his screen as the words “SEARCHING FOR SIGNALS…” seared itself into his retina and into the rather cheap LCD screen he had procured with what little resources he had at his disposal.

All of a sudden, something came from behind him and twice tapped a finger on his left shoulder.

Tails reacted accordingly to the rude destruction of his personal bubble, emitting a piercing shriek that echoed off the walls of deck 6. When the shock finally settled down, animal instincts took over as he turned around and spread his legs in a fighting position, swinging his two tails in front of him like a furry shield, only to find…

“Sonic?” he asked.

The hedgehog had been standing right behind him for God-knows-how-long, tapping his foot at the speed of a sledgehammer as he waited for any semblance of a response. Now he had it. Tails disarmed himself when he finally realized he was a few seconds away from tail-striking his own friend’s head clean off without even knowing it.

“Oh my gosh, Sonic! I am so sorry! I didn’t—”

But much to his relief and surprise, Sonic just laughed the whole thing off. “It’s okay, big guy! It’s just that sometimes you get a little…uh, howdoIsayit…focused every now and then, dontcha think?”

Tails had no reply, simply staring at the ground as his face turned red. The two made a silent agreement to not discuss the incident any further and shift the conversation toward business.

“So…what were you just lookin’ at?” Sonic asked.

“Oh, yeah! It’s a long shot, but I thought I’d try and save us time by tracing the origin of any wireless signals that pass through here. Basically, it works by a crude system of echolocation wherein the device transmits its own carrier signal, which I encrypted with a special…”

That’s “basically” to this guy? Sonic felt like blurting out, but managed to hold it in the back of his throat.

Watching Tails ramble on about his inventions was almost as much of a wonder to behold as the inventions themselves. Somehow his sapphire blue eyes seemed to glow brighter with each long, technical word that Sonic hadn’t even heard of, let alone knew the definition. Under normal circumstances, the hedgehog could have let Tails finish the way he planned to finish…assuming he ever planned to finish at all. However, these were not normal circumstances. The two were on a time crunch. Knowing this, Sonic stuck his open hand out in front of his body, indicating ‘stop’.

“So, did you get any of that?” asked Tails, not even stopping to take a breath.

“Well…” said Sonic, his hand cupping his chin as he struggled to come up with an answer. “I did get the ‘save time’ part. That’s for sure.”

Tails buried his face in his right hand. Yet again, he realized that he had failed to take into account what different worlds they both came from.

“Okay…” said Tails. “…In short, this program could help lead us straight to the server room!”

“Now that’s what I wanna hear!” said Sonic. “At this rate, we’ll be in and out of this trash-heap in no time!”

“If it works,” said Tails, waving a finger in the air. “Like I said, it’s a long shot.”

“Hey, if you built it, I’d bet my life on it! And if it doesn’t?”

Tails hissed at the most likely possibility. “Well…we’ll probably have to search each deck one by one.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with a li’l’ more exploring? I’m always game for that!”

“Uh…” Tails had no real answer to the question; after all, he really didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Suddenly, both were taken off-guard by a series of beeps from the MilesElectric that came with such abruptness and volume that it nearly caused the fox to drop the machine. When he looked for himself, he noticed that the monotonous blinking message had finally, mercifully, disappeared from the screen.

“What’s going on?” Sonic asked, as he rushed over to take a peek at the screen. “Don’t tell me somebody’s making a phone call all the way up here!”

But Tails paid no mind to his friend’s attempt at humor. His eyes were locked on the screen, toward the wealth of information that scrolled by him. At first, mere vocabulary escaped him. He wasn’t sure whether to believe its authenticity or not, and kept any thoughts of the notion tucked away to quash any false hope. But when the final confirmation appeared, the words finally came to his tongue.

“We…we got one. Sonic, we’ve got a signal here! Look at this!”

Slowly, Tails turned his gaze over to Sonic, who stood silent, more than willing to let his younger but far more technologically capable partner take the reins for the moment.

“It’s…I’ve got a lock on the location!” said Tails, half-gasping each word. “It’s…yes…”

The MilesElectric’s speakers gave off a single, sustained beep, this one even louder than those that came before. Sonic and Tails both leaned in to see what action this noise represented on the tiny LCD screen. A set of three numbers appeared, all changing with every infinitesimal tremor of Tails’ clammy gloves. Like the conductor of some electronic symphony, the fox waved the device back and forth, side to side, up and down, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen to make sure the numbers changed according to his movements. They did.

“Th…these are the coordinates…X, Y, and Z, right here!” said Tails, trying to keep himself together. “According to this, the signal’s coming from…” He looked toward the ceiling, making an effort to estimate its height from sight alone and compare the estimate to his readings. “…I think it’s two decks above us! The server room must be right there!”

“You did it, buddy!” said Sonic, leaping into the air. “I told you it would work!”

Tails only stared down at the shimmering floor of brushed steel, struggling to think of something to say as he absorbed a fur-ruffling pat on the head from the hedgehog. “Heh…I guess today must be our lucky day!”

As Tails’ head was still pointed toward the floor, Sonic reached over and grabbed his hand,

“You ready for this?” Sonic asked.

Tails’ head shot up. As soon as those sapphire blue eyes of youth and innocence locked onto fiery emerald eyes of passion and determination, any lingering doubts within the fox gently washed away.

“You bet I am!” said Tails.

“Let’s make this fun! Last one there pays for lunch!”

“Ha! You’re on! I’d like to see you fly up two floors!”

“Oh ho! Well, if it’s a challenge you want, it’s a challenge you’ll get!”

With their eyes locked on each other, both crouched and lowered their hands to the floor. Tails revved up his twin appendages until they reached such a speed that they seemed to the naked eye to create one solid, gyrating form. Soon, his tails generated their own field of wake turbulence as he held himself in place, waiting for the right moment.

At the same moment, as if an imaginary starter’s pistol had fired, they set off.

Somehow, Sonic had a gut feeling that the end his latest adventure was waiting for him at the hypothetical finish line on Deck 8. One more battle with Eggman, one more trashed baddie, and he would have things wrapped up in a neat little package. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted. Still, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the ride. He would make every remaining second of this adventure count.

None of this made any sense.

Knuckles returned to the spot that gave him the most fleeting hope of recovering the Master Emerald. He fully expected the first encounter to have been a glitch, his mind simply playing tricks on him…or worse, Eggman playing tricks on him…with his Emerald. But one step into the “sweet spot” undid all of those theories. The very same signals flooded his mind upon re-entry, flooding his ears with shattering noise.

But why? Knuckles had searched this entire area piece-by-piece, and searched it again. He couldn’t even see any device or shrine that could harness the power of the Master Emerald, let alone the fabled jewel itself. There had to be something he was missing here.

You’re hiding from me…I just know it.

However, finding a place where one would hide a four-foot-tall emerald proved to be a daunting challenge. Without a conscious thought of the action passing through him, he turned his head toward the floor while he contemplated this theory…leaving his eyes to stumble across an unremarkable maintenance shaft that rested against the far side wall.

A lightbulb went on over Knuckles’ head – a flickering lightbulb, but a lightbulb nonetheless. He could remember seeing maintenance shafts just like that one, usually in pairs that stood directly across from each other against the walls. A closer look at this one told him that it ran through the floor, up the face of the wall, and directly through the ceiling. Much to his surprise, if his theory held true, it was just wide enough for him to snuggle his body inside and through.

It was worth a shot. As far as the Master Emerald was concerned, anything was worth a shot.

The echidna hardly expected anything special to happen as he trundled uncertainly toward the maintenance shaft. But with each step he took, he listened intently as his unlikeliest theory was confirmed. The monotonous ringing in Knuckles’ ears grew gradually into a static-like roar of white noise that reduced all other sound around him to meaninglessness.

With the sensations of the Master Emerald rejuvenating his spirit, he charged at the shaft with reckless abandon, fists swinging back and forth. With one step to go before reaching the target, Knuckles delivered a charged punch at the steel piping, shifting all of his body weight into his right arm at that exact moment. A solid chunk of steel broke away, driven all the way into the back of the shaft by the sheer force of Knuckles’ blow. The end result was a hole just large enough for an echidna to crawl through to enter the surface.

Not wasting any time, Knuckles shoved his head through the opening, letting his eyes behold the utter blackness below. He had left just barely enough room to slide his left hand through, but as soon as he was ready to force his right hand through, he saw something out of the ordinary. Indeed, to even be able to see anything was out of the ordinary in a narrow shaft with almost no sources of light…but this was different.

The back of his left hand emitted a faint, yet noticeable glow. A green glow. A shade of green that Knuckles was all too familiar with.

The Master Emerald! It’s here!

No sooner had Knuckles made the realization than he heard the familiar sounds of metal feet clopping against the floor, echoing from both sides of the shaft. The buzzing and ringing from the emeralds had persisted long enough for him to develop a temporary tolerance to it, enabling him to briefly hear other sounds again while still detecting whether the sensations were present. Though he was in no position to turn his neck to see it for himself, he could sense the danger regardless.

More of them?

“YOU HAVE ENTERED A RESTRICTED AREA,” said an Egg Gunner, charging after the echidna with its own built-in weaponry.

“THE PENALTY IS DEATH,” its identical partner added.

Seriously? What’s the penalty for jaywalking here, then?

His only option for survival was a daring escape through the maintenance shaft. But there was a bit of a problem with that scenario, as most of Knuckles’ body was still trapped outside, exposed to enemy fire.

The footsteps drew closer and closer. He frantically tried to shove his right hand through a crack in the opening. However, with each attempt, his entire body rocked back and forth, pushing the hand out of the shaft and undoing any progress. Knuckles growled and seethed with each second that went by with him stuck in the threshold.

“YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY,” one Egg Gunner said. The next thing Knuckles heard was the familiar sound of the Gunners’ arm-rifles being readied for fire.

“Get…in…there!” said Knuckles, swinging his right arm back and forth as far as it would go, hoping to somehow will his massive hand through the tiny crack. Eventually, with his mightiest swing yet, he forced four fingers to squeeze through. To his dismay, however, the rest of the hand did not seem to want to follow. He tried pushing once. Twice. That didn’t work. He tried swinging his arm backwards to prepare for another attempt. That didn’t work either. Knuckles was now well and truly trapped.

“YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO COMPLY.”

It wasn’t long before the pinch of the tiny opening began to take its toll on Knuckles’ blood circulation. No longer could he even make the attempt to force his hand through. He couldn’t feel its presence. He didn’t even know where it was. Pins and needles stabbed at his body from all angles, and they weren’t coming from any Egg Gunners.

With no other ideas, and his body locked in a position where any other maneuver was out of the question, Knuckles played his last roll of the dice. It was an idea so simple he wished he had thought of it earlier, when he didn’t have a mere five seconds to live.

He simply shoved his head forward.

“THREE.”

Miraculously, with that one massive exertion of force, Knuckles felt the pinch released from around his torso. In the split-second between the moment and the realization of the moment, he braced for an onslaught of pain from the sharp steel edges of the hole, only for it not to come. The low blood circulation throughout his body numbed him beyond all feeling.

He had more important things to worry about.

“TWO.”

His spiked gloves had embedded themselves in the inside of the shaft, leaving his entire backside open to fire. With Knuckles carrying two dead arms, one dead hand, and a body ready to give up the ghost, there was only one strategy left in his bag.

“ONE.”

It took more effort than he felt was necessary, but with just milliseconds to spare, Knuckles managed to free his gloves from the wall. Nothing held him back now. It was all up to gravity to ensure Knuckles’ safety. And gravity can only carry someone so fast.

“FIRE.”

A barrage of bullets burst forth from behind Knuckles’ position. The echidna shut his eyes and braced for the searing pain of white-hot lead.

But when the first shots were fired, the only impacts Knuckles could hear were inches above him. All he could feel was the sweet, sweet feeling of air rustling his dreadlocks. With each second that passed, the jarring metallic pings of .44 caliber striking against steel receded off into the distance above him.

Somehow, some way, he had gotten out of this one alive.

As soon as they reached the first dead end, Sonic and Tails forgot about their supposed race. Both figured that they were better off working together than against each other. (More to the point, neither of them carried any Rings to pay for lunch in the first place.)

Two scorching skid marks on the floor gave away the spot where he slammed on the brakes – and helpfully gave away his location to Tails. When the two reconvened, they closely examined what kind of spot they had gotten themselves into. They had left the cramped, color-coded monotony of Deck 6 behind, only to find themselves in a wide-open jumble of steel beams, pipes, and rotating gears that must have been placed there purely for the sake of intimidating decoration. There seemed to be no end to this room – whatever it was meant for, it was as wide and as tall as the ship itself. It felt like the two had stepped through a portal into another dimension.

Tails stood fastened to the ground and gawked at the ceiling. Somehow, the fact that the room was this vast just didn’t translate well in the fox’s mind. He could see a ceiling, and depth perception gave him an idea of how high it was, but the rest of his brain refused to accept it. Eventually, the clash between senses took its toll on Tails, causing his head to go light. He stumbled backwards and consciously had to prevent himself from falling over.

Meanwhile, Sonic kept his head pointed straight ahead.

“Uh…Tails?” asked Sonic. “You sure your signal’s coming from here?”

“Huh? Oh, right!” said Tails, recovering from his bout with dizziness. Once again, he pulled out the MilesElectric to perform a quick check. “Uh…yeah, looks like we’re getting closer.”

“Does your Electric thingy come with a map of this place, by any chance?”

“What?” Tails asked, speaking in a manner as if Sonic had just told him he swallowed a whole can of lighter fluid. “Um…no. Why?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Sonic pointed straight ahead, at the crimson-red wall that stood where an open pathway was supposed to be.

Both inched backwards in order to get a better view of the top of the wall. Staring at them from above was a series of overhanging ledges that led to the decks above, but from where Sonic and Tails stood, there was no way to access any of them directly. There was no turbo-lift, elevator, escalator, spring, magic cloud, or even so much as a bloody staircase that could help them advance. They could even see directly into some of the lower floors, as if the very architecture of the ESS-1 was mocking the two interlopers, teasing them with the promise of access only to yank it away like a carrot on a string. The only alternative now was to turn back and go against the directions from Tails’ device.

“Who designed this place, anyway?” Sonic asked.

“Um…Eggman did?”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

This was hopeless. It was almost as if Dr. Eggman had designed the ESS-1 to be inaccessible to any outsiders unless they happened to have a private plane or a helicopter at their disposal…

…which Sonic did.

Without warning, Sonic reached his right arm behind him and held out his hand, exactly in front of where Tails stood at that moment. The fox didn’t need Sonic to say anything. Years of experience told him exactly what this gesture meant. He clasped hands with Sonic and held on tight as if their lives depended on it. With one swish, Tails set his brushes into a gyrating motion that gained speed with each rotation, eventually growing powerful enough to lift him and Sonic off the ground.

The ascent was slow and methodical, as Tails had to account for a weight imbalance in flight. The MilesElectric was nudged in his left armpit for safekeeping, immobilizing that side of his body for the time being, meaning he only had the use of his right hand to carry Sonic. Despite Tails’ efforts, the hedgehog swung perilously from his arm like a pendulum.

“Steady…steady…” said Sonic.

The danger only provoked Tails to push himself harder, if only to get the ordeal over behind them as soon as possible. With each foot they gained, the radius of Sonic’s oscillation only grew wider, pulling Tails along with him. The fox closed his eyes and kept his mind on the flight, compensating for direction and speed. The more he thought about who was dangling from his arm, the more chance there was he would lose his grip.

Hold on…just hold on…how much longer can this go on?

“We’re here!” said Sonic.

Tails opened his eyes and let out a contented sigh. Just above him, he could see the beginning of the floor of the eighth deck, and its obvious lack of any walls or bars that would separate anyone from accidentally falling over the edge (then again, if any of Eggman’s robots were faulty enough to just walk over that edge, they were a lost cause whether they lived or died).

“Um…Sonic?” Tails asked.

“What’s up?”

“I think someone’s beaten us here.”

A crackly monotone blared over the sound of Tails’ whirring blades. “PRIORITY ONE: HEDGEHOG.”

Draped across Sonic and Tails’ entire field of view were the distinct shadows of five separate Egg Gunners, all spread out in a “V” formation along the ledge of Deck 8. That was the extent of the information they could glean before everything descended into chaos. The combined voices of five Egg Gunners formed a discordant, yet all-too-understandable command: “FIRE.”

A hail of bullets burst forth, all converging on one pre-programmed target. The fact that the Gunners had managed to hit nothing but the floor in their haste to hit the pre-programmed target made little to no difference. The mere sound of the ammunition caused Tails to flinch. Every muscle in his body expanded and contracted within a millisecond. Unfortunately for Sonic, that also included Tails’ fingers.

As soon as he realized there was nothing pulling down his right arm, Tails took a quick look below him. He needed to make sure that the last thing he could’ve hoped to happen hadn’t happened. It had. He’d let go of Sonic.

Luckily for him, Sonic’s reflexes were even quicker than his own mind. Using his other hand, he’d managed to grab ahold of Tails’ outstretched wrist. The momentum of the sudden reconnection dragged the two of them back down, forcing Tails to rotate his namesakes faster and faster to correct for the sudden plunge.

The dull ache in his vestigial muscles quickly spread to the surrounding tissue in his upper legs and lower back. He pushed his body harder and harder, straining and tearing against the ever-growing agony, and yet all that effort failed to translate into any tangible movement. No matter how hard he pushed himself, ascent did not happen. He might as well have hit an invisible ceiling. He could practically feel his heart, his lungs…heck, his entire circulatory system bursting at the seams now.

And that was before he noticed his left arm had also been jarred loose of something important.

The MilesElectric!

“No!” Tails shouted at the top of what was left of his lungs.

If he didn’t already feel like throwing up, he certainly did now. The success of the entire mission rode on that one little device. And yet…he couldn’t just swoop down and retrieve it, at least not with Sonic in tow. Not even a circus contortionist would be able to perform that act. If he really wanted to get the machine back, he would have had to drop Sonic to do so, and that was never an option.

He closed his eyes and cringed for the inevitable fate of his hard work…only to feel Sonic kicking, tossing, swinging wildly on his arm. He was up to something.

The next sound he heard could only be described as a plastic “thunk”. When Tails opened his eyes, he saw his device still in the air, still in his direct line of sight. Sonic had swung off to perform a bicycle kick to the MilesElectric as if it was a soccer ball, just to keep it within his arms’ length. The machine was just about to fall toward Sonic’s only free hand. With no time to spare, he flung his arm forward and…

“Gotcha!” said Sonic. He had saved the MilesElectric, quite literally by the tips of his fingers.

Tails heaved a gaping sigh of relief. “Thanks, Sonic,” he said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Sonic. “Here ya go!”

The hedgehog handed the device back to Tails, who examined it for any signs of severe damage from whatever miracle Sonic had performed to keep it within reach. Aside from a minor dent in the plastic surface, which matched the curvature of Sonic’s shoe, nothing important had been damaged. The screen continued to flash vital information as if nothing ever happened.

For a few uneasy seconds, the two hovered in place just inches away from the wall, moving neither up nor down. The two weren’t nearly high enough to see who wanted them dead or how many there were, but they stayed just low enough to conceal themselves from gunfire. That was, until they noticed the visage of an arm-rifle peeking over the ledge. Then another. Then another. Before he knew it, Sonic could feel the searing heat of three separate laser sights, all aimed at the exact same spot on his forehead.

“Tails, now!” said Sonic.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the moment, or maybe it was a deep well of strength he never knew he had. But much to even Tails’ own surprise, the next great push of his tails catapulted him upwards like a rocket, straight into the Egg Gunners’ line of fire.

“Uh-oh…” said Tails, surveying the scene. “Sonic, pull in! Swing up! I dunno, do something!”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” said Sonic, giving a hearty salute. Hoping not to mangle his friend’s clavicle into gelatin in the process, he gently swung on Tails’ right arm, keeping his legs tucked in to provide as small a target for the firing squad as possible.

He is having way too much fun with this… Tails thought.

Now with visible targets, the Egg Gunners fired at will, but Tails’ flight was just too fast for their built-in weapons to catch up with. He dipped. He dove. He dodged. He did whatever it took to keep Sonic out of the way of the merciless and incessant gunfire, almost taking visual cues from the stunts he put his own plane through on a daily basis.

Soon, enough was enough. Sonic realized he was putting Tails in more danger by hanging on for the ride. Now was the time to strike. With his one free hand, he held up his middle and index fingers, arranged in the traditional V for Victory sign – a signal the two of them had arranged before arriving onboard. Operation Special Delivery was a go.

With one final push, he swooped up toward the nearly unreachable ceiling of the cavernous hall, his flight path forming a tall arc. Just before the apex of the arc, he gently released his vicelike grip on Sonic’s hand. The hedgehog descended into unrestrained, terminal free-fall. All five Gunners stood rooted to their spots, firing blindly at a blue dot off in the distance that took the form of Sonic’s super-spin.

The unlucky Egg Gunner that stood at the front of the “V” formation was the first to go, standing right in the line of fire. A single spin-dash to its steel frame reduced the once-formidable machine to a pile of junk. Sonic sprang upward from the momentum of the collision and uncoiled himself from his deadly cocoon, taking a brief moment to seek out the next target before curling up again. Just as quickly, in an act that defied all known laws of physics except his own, he burst out of the arc of his bounce and propelled himself toward the nearest Gunner. It met the exact same fate as its brother.

Regardless of the surviving Gunners’ attempts to disrupt it with their rifles, the deadly cycle continued. Bounce. Uncoil. Aim. Recoil. Fire. Rinse and repeat. After the fourth knockout left only one droid standing, Sonic – purely on a whim – uncorked and executed a dizzying series of twists, flips, and somersaults unfathomable to any other athlete, all the while laughing to his heart’s content as bullet after bullet harmlessly brushed him.

By the time he hurtled back toward the ground, he planted his foot toward the one surviving Egg Gunner. A focused kick to the head disintegrated it upon impact, sending the hedgehog tumbling through the ensuing junk pile. One effortless handspring later, Sonic regained control of himself and landed without a hitch.

Once he finally got the chance, he rose to his feet, observed the smoking ruins of the Eggman Empire before him, and let out a brief whistle. Sometimes he even impressed himself.

With the job done, he turned around to look for Tails. He spotted the fox lying face-down on the floor several yards away, hyperventilating, utterly devoid of energy, his face turned a bright crimson. Despite the gradual development of his special ability over the years, his tails were never meant to withstand that kind of physical torture. The first thing Sonic did upon seeing him was help him to his feet and stabilize his wobbly stance.

“You okay?” Sonic asked, rubbing sweat off his friend’s brow.

“I’ll…” Tails stopped to cough when his windpipe constricted. “…live.” Despite his weakened state, he did hold up his hand for a high-five, which Sonic enthusiastically accepted.

“Hey, don’t quote me on this, but I think Eggman tried to pull a fast one on us!”

“Yeah, I’m with you on that. Just give me a sec.”

To test the theory, Tails pulled out his machine, now that he was sure it was safe and sound. The results flummoxed him. He pulled at his bangs, conceiving numerous possible scenarios that could explain away the inconsistency. But he was just as soon able to debunk each one of them. Nothing made sense.

“No…” Tails muttered. “No, this isn’t right.”

“What’s going on?” asked Sonic, peeking at the screen even though he knew he had no idea what any of the numbers were supposed to represent.

“You destroyed all those robots, and yet I’m still picking up the signal. It should be long gone by now. In fact…hey, wait a minute…” He looked more closely at the numbers. “They’re counting backwards, and we’re just standing still. This is a countdown of some sort!”

“So…if I’m getting this right…” said Sonic. “We were never moving towards this signal at all. The signal was moving toward us!”

“Exactly!”

Sonic’s face swelled with pride. For once, he could keep up with Tails.

“Which means one of two things have happened. Either there’s been a catastrophic mistake in my original program, or…”

He took one more look at his screen to make sure thing number two held up to scrutiny, and he didn’t like what he saw. In fact, Sonic could see his face melt with shock. The fox‘s command was short, but effective.

“Run like hell.”

Too late for that. Before either of them could carry that out, a tremendous crash shattered the surface of the floor where the two of them stood, sending them flying in opposite directions.

Both Sonic and Tails hit the steel-reinforced walls head-first and crumpled to the floor on their respective side of the corridor. Before either of them could take so much as a second to comprehend just what was going on, Sonic saw an undefinable silver mass rocketing towards him. Noticing the weapon, he rose off the canvas and made his move. But with his vision clouded by a thick curtain of vivid, color-changing stars, he didn’t notice the object until it was too late.

Sonic managed to dodge the missile, allowing it to strike the wall head-on. But like in the game of horseshoes, being close enough actually counted for something. The resulting fireball consumed Sonic, embracing him in its warm, searing arms, scorching every exposed atom of his body and clothing, until the shockwave propelled him back into the outside world. The force of the explosion threw him along the floor, limbs flailing from side to side like a ragdoll.

Tails helplessly shouted Sonic’s name into the ether. With his own senses thrown into disrepair by the attack, he couldn’t tell what exactly happened. But when he heard a scream from the other side of the room, he knew something happened, and he knew Sonic was involved. And he knew it was bad.

Grunting and screaming as he did so because his mind told him he had no other choice, Sonic eventually rose to his feet. He noticed that everywhere his fur had been blue before, were obscured by tinges of soot from the blast. The few patches of actual skin he had that he could directly see – on his chest and arms – were already encrusted with hideous boils and scabs dealt by the fireball. Though cowed to the point where he had to turn away, he brushed it off, figuring the issue would be dealt with when they got home.

When the attacks, the noise, and the agony finally let up for a moment, both Sonic and Tails could take a moment to stop and ask themselves the obvious question: What on earth just happened here? Sonic only needed to look above the hole in the floor to see the culprit. He wasn’t even sure how he had missed it before, since its very presence smothered the room in gold light that wasn’t there before.

At the center of it all, floating effortlessly like some kind of holy apparition, was something oddly familiar to Sonic…yet different. He could tell it was roughly his height, but covered head to toe in gold that reflected every surface around it. Its form factor resembled Sonic himself – from large head to smaller body to rod-like legs to larger feet. Yet where normally Sonic’s hair would protrude downward, the spikes on this entity rose toward the heavens, almost defying gravity were it not for the fact that these “quills” were clearly constructed from a metal alloy.

No…no, it couldn’t be…

The glowing red eyes, stabbing into Sonic’s soul each time they flashed against a murky black backdrop, provided the final piece to the puzzle.

“You…” said Sonic, the very word slithering from his tongue.

“Well, Sonic?” said the entity. Even its voice was Sonic’s, only with a distinct electronic tinge to it. “Are we game for that…rematch?”

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