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hoodharlow · 24 days

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But I Still Fall Into You

AN: part 3 heheheh 😭 also the song used Oil & Water by PVRIS

Requested? No

Warnings: brief argument btwn Jack and Miriam thus Jack realizing he's a dumb bitch

Word Count: 3.4k words

Jack hummed along to Whatcha Think About That from the Pussycat Dolls but he snapped out of it. He may or may not have spent an hour watching Miriam and a few of her teammates do their own rendition of the song on loop. People in the comments were impressed with how Miriam was able to morph her voice to fit any genre from Broadway to R&B-pop. Nicole Scherzinger herself even reposted the video. One comment in particular caught his attention: his younger brother's. Clay had the nerve to specifically @ Miriam and add one too many fire emojis (one).

He didn't know how and when Clay and Miriam became friends. One day they just appeared in each other's comments, commenting inside jokes and emojis. Jack shouldn't care, but he did. He thought he had some sort of chance with Miriam since she didn't get back together with Shawn Mendes and she didn't block him off social media or his number. Did he reach out since? No, but he did write a song about her for his new album.

His alarm went off letting him know it was time to go pick up Clay. Jack's album was dropping at midnight so he was having dinner with his team and a few friends to celebrate its release. When he arrived to his parents’ place and let himself in.

“Hi, mom.” He said, hugging Maggie.

He patted his dad's shoulder.

“Hey baby.” She said.

“Where’s your demon spawn?” He asked.

“Clay left a while back. He's having dinner with someone.” His dad said, not looking away from the tv.

“With who?” Jack frowned.

“That pretty girl from your birthday party.” His mom said.

“You're both telling me that my younger brother is on a date with Miriam Dominguez-Miller?” He laughed in disbelief.

“No we said he was having dinner with her. There's a difference. They could be talking shop.” Brian said as a matter of fact.

“What business do they have? Clay is a producer and Miriam plays soccer?” he paced around the living room.

“Baby, why are you so worked up?” “Let me get my blood pressure monitor.” His parents said simultaneously.

“I'm fine.” Jack said. He sighed and pushed back his curls. “I just have pre-album release jitters. I want this album to do well. My last one was kinda a downer.”

“It will do good. From what you showed us, it's some of your best work. We're so proud of you.” His mom said.

“Thanks for that.” He smiled softly. He looked at his watch. “I should get going.”

“Take care baby.” Maggie kissed his cheek.

Jack waved his parents goodbye and drove to the restaurant. He got there in no time. The hostess recognized him and ushered him to a semi-private room where everyone was waiting for him. He went around greeting the table. He finally took his seat at the head of the table with Urban sitting on one side and Larissa on the other.

“There's something you should know.” Urban whispered.

“What?” Jack looked at him confused.

A loud cackle erupted from the other side of the restaurant. Jack knew that laugh better than anyone. It was Miriam's. He glanced over to where the laugh came from and he spotted her and his brother in a booth.

“You've got to be kidding me.” Jack muttered.

“What'd you do to piss off Miriam?” Larissa asked. She took a sip of her wine and continued, “She's obviously getting back at you and using your brother.”

“What?” He frowned.

“She said that the best way to get back at someone is to fuck someone they have beef with or their siblings because no matter how good the relationship there's still some sort of rivalry.” She shrugged.

“Last time you said Miriam was with someone you were wrong. So why should we believe you this time?” Urban tilted his head, questioning her.

“I was wrong one time, sue me.” Larissa said defensively.

“You weren't wrong one time. There's been several times and it's usually about a girl Jack is interested in. I think we should mind our business. ” He snapped.

“I'll be right back.” Jack said.

He got up from the table and excused himself. He wiped the sweat off his hands and took a deep breath as he approached Miriam and Clay. They were so deep in their conversation that they didn't notice him. Jack cleared his throat. They both looked at him.

“Hey, man!” Clay smiled at his big brother.

Miriam didn't respond. She reached for a piece of bread and spread some butter on it.

“I just came by to invite y'all to my table. We're celebrating my album dropping tonight.” Jack said, casually.

“We're fine here.” Miriam said curtly.

“Well if you change–”

“Not to be rude, but we were discussing a private matter and I'd appreciate it if you gave us privacy.” she cut him off in a snippy tone.

“If you wanted privacy I doubt a restaurant is the ideal place for that.” Jack said in the same tone as her.

“Jack,” Clay gave him a warning look.

Jack noticed the few people watching them so he collected himself. “I was just being courteous. I'll see you later Clay.”

“I'll text you.” His younger brother nodded.

Jack gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder and he went back to his table. The entire dinner he spent it shooting daggers at Miriam. He's never lost his composure like that, especially in a public setting.

A server came by to drop off the check at Miriam and Clay's table. Miriam put her hand up and took the check. She slipped a few bills and got up. Clay followed suit. They hugged and Miriam left while Clay went over to Jack's table.

“How was your date?” Larissa was the first to speak when he took a seat by Urban.

“It wasn't a date. We had a work dinner.” Clay said in a snappy tone. He was not a fan of Larissa.

“Work dinner?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, I can't talk too much about it.” He shrugged.

“Right, I'm going to get some air.” He excused himself.

Jack followed after Miriam. She was leaning against her car typing on her phone.

“You have some nerve.” He said going up to her.

“Excuse me? I know you're not talking to me.” Miriam frowned.

“Of course I'm talking to you. Who else is using my brother to get back at me.” He snapped at her.

Miriam laughed. “I hate to break it to you but the world doesn't revolve around you.” She said in a Southern accent before switching to her normal voice. “Clay was doing some stuff for me.”

“So what you're paying him to fu–”

“Choose your fucking words. I haven't done shit to you for you to be so fucking rude and disrespectful. Since you so fucking desperately need to know, I hired him to help me produce a song. I invited him to dinner as a thank you because we finally finished it.”

“Right,” Jack laughed. “Because this isn't some ruse to get back at me for what happened in New York.”

“You caught me.” She said her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I'm using your brother because you made me feel like shit by saying that us hooking up was a mistake and you gave me the cold shoulder in front of your best friends. I'm using your brother because you didn't talk my ear off at last year's Met Gala gushing about how talented your brother was and how fucking excited you were to have him in your album. You got me. Everything I've done since that night is to seek revenge on you, not because I'm bored out of my mind in this godforsaken town and wanted to turn my poems that I've been working on for years into music.”

Guilt crept into Jack's body. He let his emotions get the best of him.

“Miriam, wait–”

“Save it.” She shook her head. “You're clearly not who I thought you were so I apologize for thinking highly of you. Congrats on your album by the way. Clay wouldn't stop talking about it and how proud he was of you. Obviously you don't think the same when it comes to his work ethic.”

•••

@'jackharlow: Jackman. My new album. Out now everywhere

@'urbanwyatt: THAT'S RIGHT

@'nicolesherzinger: making Kentucky proud

@'spotify: we need Jackman

@'dbook: icon

@'jackhater: another 2.9 album

@'messyjackfan: y'all heard Blame on Me? It's so shady. That explains why we rarely Clay and Jack together anymore.

-> @'jackstan: did you? If that's what you got from the song? Then you missed the point

View all messages

•••

@'mdm: what I do in my spare time here in Kentucky.

OIL & WATER produced by @'claybornharlow out now <3

@'saintclauds: BIIIIITCH

@'katdominguez: okay stop showing off

-> @'josephdominguez: fr, we agreed that we can only have one talent. Kat is the model, I'm the actor, and you're the soccer player @'mdm. You can't be the singer too

-> @'mdm: so about that acting thing....

@'oliviarodrigo: omg love this

@'dione-cé: and that's on song of the day-yyay-ay

@'zendaya: obsessed 😍

@'teddygeiger: glad you were able to make something incredible with the basic beats

@'claybornharlow: let's fucking GOOOO

-> @'jackfan: not you being more excited that some nepo baby releasing bad music over your brother's album

-> @'jackstan: you dumb bitch he produced the song. Of fucking course he's excited

@'popgirliefan: I hate when nepo babies think they can just drop shit and take jobs from actual singers 😒

@'mdmsoccerfan: in her Snoop Dogg with the side quest era

@'miriamhater: hate that I like this

View all comments

•••

“I'm a fucking idiot.” Jack announced to Urban and Clay.

“You don't have to announce something we all know.” His younger brother commented.

Urban shrugged in agreement.

Jack rolled his eyes and showed them spotify on his phone. He'd been listening to Miriam's song for the last few hours (since midnight when it dropped) and the full meaning of the song just hit him.

“What about the song I produced?” Clay asked in a defensive tone.

“One, it's good. Good job. And two, I'm a fucking idiot and it's like I'm purposely cockblocking myself and…” Jack trailed off, trying to word out his interpretation.

“Don't overthink it, we get it. You're a dumb bitch that jumps to conclusions and pushes away the total package that Miriam is.” Urban chuckled.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Clay asked.

“Nothing? I don't know. She was pretty adamant in avoiding me and mmd ignoring me if she can't avoid me.” Jack said.

A few days after their parking lot argument they ran into each other at the Tommy Hilfiger headquarters for their Met Gala fittings. Tommy's meeting with Miriam took long to he just merged their fittings together since Jack was going with a simple suede suit. Miriam went with something more couture that was on theme but threw shade at the late Karl Lagerfeld for how he acted with het mom. Tommy tried making conversation between the three of them but Miriam was more focused on her clothes. Then when the actual Met Gala came, they were supposed to be seated in the same table, but she sat elsewhere. Later on their flight back to Louisville she was in the same pod as him in first class but she was in her own world going over game tapes and taking notes.

“Are you fucking stupid? Did you not hear the lyrics? ‘I wouldn't do this for anyone but you.’ Who the fuck do you think is ‘you’? You, you fucking genius.” his brother smacked the back of his neck.

“Don't fucking hit me.” He tried hitting him back but missed.

“Hit me and I'll make sure Miriam doesn't speak a word to you.” Clay warned him.

A text came through from his managers that they better be downstairs. They were going to a Derby gala in celebration of Jack's foundation. After the races he spent a few hours going through what was happening in the Gala with his mom (the first hour was the cocktail/ mingle hour, followed by a four course dinner, and the speeches at the end). Once everything was set, Jack went home to nap to be refreshed for the long night ahead of him.

When Jack, Clay, and Urban arrived at the venue they went through the red carpet with the rest of PG. As Jack did a quick interview for the local news, he spotted Miriam talking to his mom. Miriam looked beautiful as always. She wore a short cocktail dress that made her muscular legs look long. She laughed at something his mom said and she nervously brushed down her bangs.

Jack finished and tried to go up to his mom and Miriam but he was whisked away to mingle.

He spent half an hour shaking hands with every and any affluent person from Kentucky. His mouth and hand began to feel tired from all the smiling and hand shaking. But he finished and was able to mingle. Jack made a quick stop to the section where his friends were to get a drink. He grabbed a can of Phocus and scanned the place for Miriam. He found her talking to Jeremiah Morris, a player at Louisville FC from London. They talked like life long friends, whispering and giggling amongst each other.

“That was fast. Wasn't she just with your brother?” Larissa asked him, joining him on the balcony.

“Riss, you know Jeremiah is gay, right?” Jack responded in an irritated tone.

When Jeremiah first moved to Louisville a lot of soccer fans weren't accepting of him because of sexuality. Jack made a post on his Instagram Stories, supporting him and welcoming him to Louisville.

He sighed, “Just because two people of the opposite sex are talking it doesn't mean that they're fucking.”

“I know.” She said, taken aback.

“Okay because you always seem to assume when it comes to Miriam.” he snapped.

“Well sorry for looking out for you.” She scoffed before walking away.

Jack finished the last of his Phocus and decided to go up to Miriam and Jeremiah. Miriam stood awkwardly as Jack and Jeremiah greeted each other.

“I’mma go find my man, but we have to catch up sometime, Mimi.” Jeremiah said, leaning in to kiss Miriam's cheek. He nodded his head at Jack. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Jack smiled.

“You heard him, he has a man. I'm not fucking him.” Miriam said as she took a step back.

Jack caught her arm and pulled her back. “Look, I wanted to apologize. From–”

“This isn't the time or place.” She said.

“I'm aware but–”

His manager approached them. “Jack, they need you on the stage.”

“Can you give me a sec?” He told her.

“Go, we'll talk later.” Miriam said, sipping her champagne flute.

Jack nodded and followed his manager. He went to the stage and told people that the cocktail hour was over and they needed to make their way to the dining hall for dinner.

Jack spent the entire dinner going around checking things were going smoothly. When it was time for the speeches he was shoveling food because he didn't get a chance to eat during the dinner. He sat behind the DJ booth listening to his mom talk and give shout outs to those that went above and beyond.

“Earlier in the evening our news Miriam Dominguez-Miller came by to drop off a generous donation from her parents.” Maggie began. “Their donation of ten million dollars is going towards the theater-ballet programs and the children's after school sports teams.”

The whole room erupted in applause. That was when Jack noticed Miriam didn't go up, nor that she was in the room. He looked to his mom and she put the small certificate she made with Miriam's name face down and went to the next person.

“Where's Miriam?” Jack asked Clay when he saw him walk past him.

“She was just dropping off the check her parents made. Said she was tired from her game and went home.” shrugged Clay.

A few speeches later, the gala ended. The guest went to another reception hall for the ‘after party’. Jack hung out with his friends for a half an hour. He checked the time and it was ten at night. He texted Miriam if she was willing to meet with him tomorrow so they could talk. She responded a minute later that she was going to be busy tomorrow but he could stop by right now. Jack replied back with a saluting emoji and pocketed his phone.

“Hey, I'm going to head out.” he told his mom. “Do you have Miriam's certificate thing on you?”

“Why?” She frowned. Clay had vaguely filled her in on the nonsense her oldest pulled on Miriam and was quite pissed that he was acting like that because she didn't raise him to talk and treat people like that.

“I want to give it to her.” He said.

“Jackman, I swear if you upset that poor girl one more time.” She warned him as she handed him the paper award.

“Um, rude.” He said defensively.

“I don't know all the details but that behavior you didn't learn from me. I raised you better than to disrespect women.” She said sternly.

“I know and I'm gonna try to salvage this.”

“Alright, be good.”

Jack hugged her and texted the group that he was leaving. He had texted his driver and they pulled up to the front of the venue. He got in and put in the address of Miriam's apartment building. He texted her that he was on his way to her place. She replied back that she added him to ‘the list’ and he just needed to verify with the doorman. He arrived at the apartment building and showed his ID to the doorman when he went inside.

The doorman guided Jack to a private elevator and pressed the sole button for Jack. The elevator went to the tenth floor. In the hallway there was one door at the end. Jack figured it was Miriam's place so he knocked.

Miriam opened the door, “Hi.” She said, leaning against the door revealing a new look: a white-beater with vintage style denim shorts and UGG slippers.

“Hey, my mom wanted me to give you this.” he said, handing her the award.

“Thanks… is that all?” She asked.

“No, I,” Jack cleared his throat. “Can I come in so we can talk?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, opening the door more for him.

Miriam shut it and locked it. She looked at herself in the small mirror by the entrance and tried to smooth out her bangs. Which she got after her argument with Jack at the restaurant. They came out uneven but she was luckily going to New York where her hairdresser worked and they fixed them for her. But when she sweated they got a mind of their own and were hard to tame.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, your brother gave me a few boxes of PHOCUS so I have that too.” She said.

“I'm good, thank you.” He said.

Miriam led him to her bisexual velvet green couch. She took off her slipper and pulled her knees to her chest. It was taking a lot for her to not jump him. Men in non-basic black suits were one of her greatest weaknesses. Even more when it was properly tailored.

“That night in New York, I didn't mean to say you were a mistake. What I really wanted to say was that I don't want to have sex with you knowing my best friend was on the other side of the door. My mouth was faster than my brain and I apologize for that. I'm also sorry for how I acted around you at the game. It was childish and petty for no reason.” He paused, wiping sweat from his hands. “My outburst last week in the parking lot was also out of line and fucked up. I'm sorry for interrupting your work dinner with Clay and basically dismissing your work.”

“What I don't get is how you came up with those conclusions about me. That's what hurt the most. I get, maybe with Shawn you would assume because we got papped and stuff but with your brother?” Her voice cracked. Miriam wiped a few stray tears. “I just thought we were on the same page. I put it all out there on how I feel about you. Then I'm hit with a wall that you put up and it feels like there's someone or something next to you that's making you doubt what I feel about you.”

Jack stayed quiet. He wasn't sure if he should tell Miriam about how Larissa was the one adding fuel to things and unintentionally causing a rift between him and Miriam. Larissa was Miriam's friend, she wouldn't intentionally hurt Miriam. He didn't want to think about Larissa so he gave her a vague answer.

“I let my own insecurities get the best of me. In my head I was constantly thinking how you're fucking Miriam Dominguez-Miller. Obviously you wouldn't be interested in someone like me. I'm sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve any of that.” He said.

“Thank you. I appreciate you being honest and vulnerable with me. You didn't have to come all this way and give me your perspective but you did and that says a lot.” Miriam smiled softly.

“I'm glad we're able to resolve this and continue to be friends.” Jack patted her knee.

“Friends…” She said.

Jack saw the time on the clock Miriam had hanging. “I should get going, it's pretty late.”

“I'll walk you out.” She pushed herself up from the couch.

“It's fine.” He waved her off.

“Text when you get home.”

Jack kissed her cheek and left. Miriam screamed into her pillow. She couldn't believe that after admitting she liked him, Jack still had the nerve to friendzone her. It for the best, she thought to herself. They went through a lot of unnecessary grievances. Despite how much she liked him, Miriam knew it's better if they stay friends.

#jack harlow #jack and miriam #jack harlow smut #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack and miriam: soccer edition

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shitshowkb · 2 years

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FINALLY started watching SEAL Team and because this is clearly my new favorite thing to do, I will be writing my reactions/emotions down as i go, so here we go:

✧ SEAL Team season 1 spoilers under the cut ✧

finally watching SEAL Team and decided to write my reactions/emotions down as i go:

• david boreanaz is so mf fine

• and max thieriot 😍

• clay spenser loml

• i literally can not stand ash spenser omg

• oh god his shoot isn't working

• oh shit, is he gonna die!?!?

• yep he's gonna die

• nooo not brian, why'd it have to be brian? 😭

• that smirk on clay's face during that SERE interrogation 🥵

• "actually i'm still kind of thirsty" this man i stg

• my boy made it through SERE

• not the boys sneaking off to get some spicy chicken

• hayes with his hat on backwards 🥵

• 8am and bring beer? these are my kind of people 😅

• this mans smile makes me WEAK

• i am CONFUSED

✧ lowkey got super into the show and forgot to write my reactions, but i'm on the episodes where the boys are in afghanistan on their deployment tryna figure out who put the hit on echo team & i'm stressed tf out, i think i have like 4 more episodes in season 1 ✧

• not these grown ass me throwing darts at each others feet

• oh shit, ray's frag killed a little boy

• this man needs to stop lying about his injured shoulder

• god clay is gorgeous, i will never get over it

• also brock??? that man is fine as hell

• "what are you not telling me?" babe his shoulder is FUCKED

• SPENSE IS SO MF FINE

• jesus that was stressful

• also jason hayes could ruin my life, i'd thank him & let me him come back & do it all over again

• man i feel so bad for ray bc that little boy died but also homie you lied about being okay before deployment???

• "i want to deliver him to you" idk man that sounds too easy, is this a trap???

• this feels like a trap

• lmao i am so in love with clay spenser

• oh shit

• all of this kidnapping shit for a talk???

• homie is not only going to show you where to find his brother but also tell you how to kill him???

• this shit has to be a trap

• still pissed that ray lied about his shoulder & now he's in there spilling the tea about his injury

• oh okay??? this man does not even care about ray's shoulder

• fr tho ray GO SEE A DAMN DOCTOR

• this journalist gets on my mf nerves

• i do not like the vibes i'm getting rn

• yeah no i don't like this

• oh god oh god oh god

• something bad is gonna happen, i can feel it

• OH GOD NO

• OF FUCKING COURSE THE EPISODE ENDS LIKE THAT

• so i obviously know that these guys survive because they're still on the show but COME ON this is so mf stressful

• oh god no

• holy shit

• this shit just keeps getting worse omg

• "I AM NOT EMOTIONAL!" sonny babe you really are

• sonny is stressed tf out, someone better buy him all the beers when they get home

• covered in dirt & bleeding and clay is still fine as hell

• oh god not again

• if jason hayes doesn't sit his stupid ass still omg

• what the actual fuck jason

• jason hayes needs his ass beat, i don't care if he has a head injury

• is that mans bone sticking out of his arm?? 🤢

• damn, i knew medders was dead :(

• oh god is shit gonna go down again

• can these boys please go back to the states like now??? thanks

• this mf and his concussion does not need to going out right now omg

• omfg get tf outta this damn mountain

• well fuck

• jase and the girls are about to fuck some shit up

• oh shit danny overdosed???

• jase is really planning to just kill cutter? lmfao

• i am so excited for the crew to go home

• clay's car 😍

• i feel so bad for davis :(

• stella stayed composed way longer than i would've, i'd have seen clay & lost my shit

• sonny needs a hug :(

• dear god, jase needs to go get his head checked

• someone please get this man some help

• OF COURSE THE SEASON ENDED WITH THAT

#seal team #seal team season 1 #jason hayes #clay spenser #ray perry #sonny quinn #lisa davis #mandy ellis #eric blackburn #brock reynolds #stella baxter #i'm in love with clay

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

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Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

I’ve had some requests sitting in my inbox for over a month now and if I’m being honest I just don’t have any inspo for them

Rules

✨I will only write the prompt once

✨There is no limit on how many prompts you can send but please make it far for everyone

I Will Take Requests For:

SEAL TEAM; Clay Spenser, Sonny Quinn, Jason Hayes, Ray Perry, Eric Blackburn

Sons Of Anarchy; Jax Teller, Chibs Telford, Happy Lowman

Suits; Harvey Specter

Fast and Furious; Brian O’Conner, Dominic Toretto,

Bates Motel; Dylan Massett

"I have no idea how to explain what happened." "I believe you just bought an elephant."

"Why is your lawyer at our apartment?!"

"What do you want me to do? Tell them? 'Hello, parents, ah yes, I am dating the boy you arrested few months back!'"

“You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?”

“Why did I wake up in the fountain inside the restaurant?”

“Why is arson always your first answer?”

“it’s been months since we broke up and i just found one of your old sweatshirts in my wardrobe and it’s making me miss you”

we haven’t seen each other in years but reunite at a mutual friend’s wedding, things ended badly between us and we both know it’s better to avoid each other but of course we’re seated at the same table, opposite each other

“you come here often?” “Well considering I work here, yes.”

“Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

"You're jealous aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

"Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that."

"If you do that again I will throw you out the window you- what are you doing?" "Checking how high the drop is to see if it's worth it."

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re looking at me like that?”

“I just thought that since you weren’t feeling too good, maybe this would help.”

#seal team #sons of anarchy #fast and furious #bates motel #suits

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

Eeeee- Hello :) I've seen that your matchup event has been going on a while, and I've finally managed to get the guts to make a request. My apologies if its rather short. I'd like to request a Creepypasta/Marble Hornets matchup :')

I am a 18 year old female, Libra. I have brown hair, Hazel eyes and freckles. I'm rather short- being 5"6 (compared to family-)

My hobbies would be Arts, reading, writing- you can sometimes find me outside looking for mushrooms and cool pebbles. Listening to music 24/7 happens a lot, as well as clay models.

Personality wise, I would say I'm rather level-headed, but that turns to goblin behavior once you know me. From a friend's perspective, I am outgoing, understanding, comical, and "drink enough coffee to kill an entire school of Victorian Children."

I don't talk that much, really- only when it's proving a point in an argument or when talking about a hyperfixation. Speaking of which, you can find me obsessing over Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, Markiplier, Slashers, Deltarune, Mythology and more. Fantasy, mostly.

Science, Biology, Geography- those are all really fun subjects, along with Genetics.

I can be either very clingy, or dissociate, all of that depending on random. Clingy times are often expressed in physical touch, and words of affirmation. Dissociation is often just going to my room, not be in able to handle people because of oversensitiveness. They don't last long, however.

Aaaaaand thats it! Thank you so much for opening the event!

Your matchup is... Hoodie!

[Disclaimer, if you're coming from the tags, this is part of a special event I am holding from November 17th to the 21st where I am accepting matchups from all fandoms I currently write for. Feel free to check out my 1K celebration masterlist here for rules during the window this event is open! If it's past the 21st midnight USA central time, do NOT send me a matchup. I will have to politely turn you down. Sorry </3]

In General

It's your areas of interest that did it.

Things He Likes About You

I think Brian really, really loves your hazel eyes. They mirror his but they're so much more beautiful in his opinion. Also you're 5'6 which is a good height for him! He's 6'2, the way I write him. All of your hobbies line up with him pretty well. Likes that you're level headed and only reveal the chaotic nature later. Makes things exciting for him lmfao. Tell him about your interests please - which leads me to

You Two as a Couple

I saw science, bio, geo, and immediately thought of Brian for you because I think he's in love with the natural world. He's a bit of a forager so like hey. The two of you need to talk about plants, go on walks together. He wants to go on adventures with you too because sometimes, he just can't sit still. He's a comical, sunshiny guy. (I write Hoodie and Brian as different entities!) He's good in like, performance art. He likes curling up with a good book too every now and then as well. I can see the two of you going to a library with a café, choosing some good books and spending the afternoon in each other's company. Brian talks,,,, a good enough amount. loves hearing about your hyperfixations though!! Chances are he's into them as well. He loves mythology especially, gotta get him into Vivziepop's works though - I think he'd like the character designs, like Stolas, Blitzo, etc. Brian is physically affectionate and verbally affectionate, you get the best of both worlds here. He's a super sweet lover, and will absolutely shower you in smooches. He worries when you isolate, but as long as you recharge or get the time you need, he's okay. I feel the two of you are perfect tbh.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things

Hi love bug, it's nothing! Thanks for sending this in and kudos to you for having the courage to do so! It's always a little odd putting yourself out there to be,,,, evaluated,,, but you did it and I'm super proud of you! Hope you enjoyed <3

Also also, what'd you think about the newest ep of Helluva Boss?? Ngl, my heart hurts. Stan Millie and Moxxie though.

#creepypasta matchup #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hoodie #hoodie x reader #hoodie headcanon #brian thomas headcanon #brian thomas x reader

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weapon13whitefang · 3 years

Note

So now that the movie's out, can we get some Savant/Harley headcanons plz?

Well i guess I could give some. Me and @chocolatemicenwhiskey have a world for them but some of my head cannons differ. And some are mixed with theirs.

So. Enjoy! Also! Important note

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

1. Savant didn’t die. Everything was staged: So in the movie, Savant dies with Task Force X Group 1 by getting his head blown up from the bomb Waller had installed into the Suicide Squad’s heads. He’s actually the only person to die from a bomb, though not without Amanda trying to later on… But in our world, Savant lived. In fact all members of the first group - save for Blackguard and he wouldn’t give a fuck what happened to Peacemaker, finding both to jock headed and annoying - survive.

How did he do this? Well incase you all aren’t aware, in the comics Savant is a fucking genius. But he suffers from a chemical imbalance. And this makes him exhibit a non-linear memory and it makes him forgetful. So he can make these elaborate plans and create these creative and powerful things… But forget he did any of it.

That said, Savant isn’t gonna trust Waller. He isn’t an idiot. He comes off as a forgetful dolt, but he’s not an idiot. The minute he was asked to join and learned what it entels to enter this group for a cut to freedom, he’d form a plan. Now steps may be bounced out of order, but it gets done. First off, Brian Durlin in the comics is a very rich and spoiled heir to an enormous fortune left by his deceased family. With the right price, Savant could pay off certain members of Belle Reve to get help from outside the prison. Clayface is who he calls on and gets a message to. The clay man can be bought and Savant pays him to aid in their escape. Also playing off the Harley Quinn cartoon, Clayface is friends with Harley and agrees to help for her and takes payment from Savant. Clayface is able to break into Belle Reve and help impersonate the doctor that implants the bombs into the suicide squad. Only Peacemaker and Blackguard get a real one, but they all - except Savant - believe they’re real. But they’re actually duds.

Savant forgets this plan once they’re in Corte Maltese. He even forgets the bomb is in his head. And he wasn’t told to do this, but Clayface decides to tag along. He kept a bomb reader that notifies him when a bomb is to be set off and who it’s on. When Savant’s bomb is set off by Waller, Clayface quickly encompasses Savants head and “explodes”, leaving enough mass over Savant’s head to look like he’s died before making him fall into the water and deadman floats him until the cameras are off him. This is how Clayface aids the SS. A chunk of him is attached to each member that Savant agrees to save. Even Rick Flag, although Savant thinks he’s a bit of an ass. But he’s in the right headspace. Just too dumb to see he’s being played.

Although Savant doesn’t remember making the plan at first, he knows he’s smart enough and crazy enough to come up with such a plan. It’s confirmed later when Clayface plays a recording Savant quickly made for himself to play later then gave to Clayface to hold on until he needed it.

2. Harley Quinn’s daddy issues turned her on to Savant: Watching the older male fight and finding his intelligence but memory problem fascinating, Harley was pretty easily attracted to the heir turned hacker/hand-to-hand combat expert/weapons expert villain. And her first interest came from learning of the villain’s reputation around Belle and how he was in a maximum holding cell and was hardly seen around the other population due to his multiple almost escapes.

So of course Savant had a “mysterious bad man” vibe before she got to know him. Getting to see him in person was a new intrigue and she instantly wanted to braid his hair and pet him.

It’s later, when she sees him fight and handle a group of mercenary soldiers, that she has a “oh no, he’s hot” and “hellooo, daddy” view of the man. Which leads to her unashamedly flirting with the man every chance she gets. Which, Savant is confused by at first but finds it amusing. It’s Harley almost dying to protect him on a free SS mission that has him flirting back and giving “clown girl” a try.

This relationship is made very public throughout the villain and superhero community. Eventually being brought to Joker’s attention (that’s another story though).

3. Harley’s daughter Lucy is Savant’s daughter: In the “Injustice” universe, before Joker attacks Superman, Harley gets pregnant by the Joker. She runs off for a year to hide her pregnancy from Joker. She has a daughter, which she named Lucy Quinzel.

After a particularly rough mission that the SS barely survived, Harley and Savant - back at the SS HQ, which is an abandoned mansion owned by Savant’s family - the two have very heated and dominating and passionate sex, forgetting any protection and no pulling out. And, six weeks later, Harley has constant nausea and a lot of vomiting. It gets so bad that Savant calls in a back alley doctor he trusts. The whole team is floored to learn Harley isn’t sick, but six weeks pregnant. Savant - in a panic - “phases” out and passes out, being caught by Rick and Boomerang before he hits the ground.

Harley is upset at first but quickly - very very quickly - becomes excited about being a mama. She is so happy she’s oblivious at first to Savant having passed out and runs to crush hug him. When she does realize he fainted from the news, she just smiles and says “he’s excited, my Savvy”. Completely unaware of the panic the non-linear minded villain is going through.

After he wakes up, Savant is confused and forgetful nonstop of Harley’s pregnancy. A defense his brain takes to the news. It not until Harley is at sixteen weeks and showing a baby bump that he “slaps to” on the real note he’s gonna be a dad… And starts to plan on how he’s gonna get his brain fixed to think normally and not be as forgetful. So he can truly help raise the kid with Harley.

He also becomes guard dog protective and makes sure Bud, Lou, and Bruce the hyena’s are always guarding Harley if he has to go on missions. Even threatening a few of the SS members he feels are putting Harley in danger or could put her in danger. Which later leads to a very rough one-on-one fight with Rick that King Shark and Mongal have to break up.

And those are a few HCs! Sorry if they’re not that interesting. Also a lot of it is mixture of film, comic, and tv series so it’s a mesh of universes lol.

Feel free to bug @chocolatemicenwhiskey for any other HCs or her own HCs :D

#the suicide squad #savant #brian durlin #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #harley quinn x savant #harley quinn/savant

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brattyfics · 4 years

Text

“I don’t love you anymore” | Part 2

Summary: After making it clear that he does not believe in divorce, Miguel’s wife is forced to take matters into her own hands. The previous installment can be found here. I used the following prompt lines: “How long are you going to keep this up?’ “Yeah, I remember the drill.” “Do you even know what you’ve done to me?” | Part Three |

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Dark-ish Miguel, domestic violence/abuse.

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: First of all, thank you to @my-little-wolfe for bouncing ideas back and forth with me, and convincing me to resolve this. A lot of you wanted the reader to have redemption. This is my idea of that. It’s not what many of you would have predicted, but it’s the most realistic version of events I saw happening. I’d love hear what you all think about how things shook out, let me know :)

In the backseat of a sleek, black Mercedes s550, you sat on cushy leather seats. Clay red passed by in a blur through the tinted windows. The desert reminded you of how you felt inside; desolate. Spotty patches of green freckled the dry dirt, small but persistent life signs despite the harsh conditions.

Nestor sat in front of you, eyes glued to the road ahead with the driver to his left. Next to you in the backseat sat your husband, Miguel. None of you dared to speak, save for Miguel asking for the ETA. Everyone knew a few simple words had the potential to spark a flame between the two of you. Almost a month had passed since your marriage had been irreparably damaged. You confronted Miguel about his infidelity. He made his position on divorce clear. You were no longer under any delusions of a happy or at the very least amicable ending.

Security around the house had doubled. Multiple guards were with you at almost all times, inside or outside of the house. The only time you got a semblance of privacy was when you locked yourself in one of the guest bedrooms. He always sent someone to return you to your shared bedroom at night, but you were grateful for any time away from him. You spent dark, lonely nights on opposite sides of your California King Bed. The distance between you was not only physical. Besides a simple 'yes' or 'no' when necessary, you didn't speak to Miguel. He had you temporarily trapped physically, that much was obvious, but you refused to let him have the satisfaction of capturing your spirit.

The only reason you sat next to him in the confined space was Santo Padre's annual charity event. Miguel was obligated to attend, and by extension, so were you. Like the good little wife you had been groomed to become, you dressed and accessorized to impress. You wore a designer cocktail dress, large diamond stud earrings, and a full face of makeup. All of it was to distract people from the real picture. Your reflection reminded you of how things used to be. The bells and whistles were expected of Mrs. Galindo. What you couldn't dress up were your eyes. Gone were the twinkles that once shone bright. They had been replaced by marble--hard and pretty but ornamental.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" You kept your eyes trained on the desert as your husband spoke. He should've already learned to respect you weren't talking to him. Out of your periphery, you saw Miguel make quick work of his sunglasses, stashing them in the case. "You're going to have to talk to me sometime." He used the same condescending tone that made you want to throw things at his head. Your fingernails dug into your palm as you resisted the urge to spew venom. Stop talking to me, asshole.

It was Miguel who struck first, strong fingers gripping your chin tightly. You jerked back at the invasion of personal space, swatting at his hand as if it were a pesky fly. He took your fiery reaction as a challenge, snatching you forward by your neck. You clawed at his hand, but his grip remained firm. Nestor eyed the two of you in the rearview mirror. He knew better than anyone how vicious Miguel could be when provoked. The driver's gaze didn't stray once from the road. They were trained to protect Miguel and if things got ugly, even Nestor would not step in to protect you.

"I know the drill…" His grip loosened when your eyes met. "Don't worry. I won't embarrass you in front of your colleagues, Mr. Galindo." Your shared last name was said with a sneer. Miguel didn't appreciate the sass, but he finally let you go, recoiling back into the seat. He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting his suit jacket while you rubbed your throat. You had been wheezing moments earlier, and his first priority was to preen.

If looks could kill, Miguel Galindo would be six feet under.

"Do you even know what you've done to me?" You growled out. The accusatory tone had both men in the front seat on edge. With bated breath, Nestor watched Miguel casually pick up his phone. The cartel boss tapped at the touch screen as if you didn't even exist.

It all happened in a blur.

Your hands clenched into fists, and then they were flying, raining down blows everywhere. The car jerked, then swerved, and eventually pulled over. Angry red patches littered Miguel's skin where your fists made contact. At one point, he had you pinned down in the seat. The entire thing was like an out of body experience. As much as you wanted to stop, you couldn't control yourself. He was whisked off to another car by one of the guards, leaving behind a trail of buttons and blood on the nude interior. Nestor claimed the driver's seat, riding you around in circles while waiting for you to calm down. You were hysterical, batting the bulletproof glass repeatedly and yanking wildly on the childproof looks. It took hours. In the end, your knuckles were bloody and bruised, throat raw from yelling.

For the first time since you got married, you slept alone.

Several days passed without Miguel returning home. You didn't care if he was across the border or down the street at his mistresses' house. He could take an extended vacation to hell for all you cared. All you cared about was using the time alone to your advantage.

Miguel had carefully selected four guards to stay behind and watch over you. You didn't know any of them well, and that was on purpose. Since your first falling out, Miguel had gotten paranoid about you escaping. Anyone he thought had a soft spot for you was banned from the house. What Miguel didn't consider was that you could run circles around the new guys. You ran the household as normal, keeping them busy with errands and the occasional household chore. You were sure no one suspected anything. Plus, it allowed you the time and privacy you needed to execute your plan.

You received a call an hour earlier that let you know the plan could proceed as planned. Miguel could be home at any moment, and you had no more time to waste. Your purse was packed to the brim with essentials-- travel-sized toiletries, underwear, and wads of cash. You couldn't even fit a change of clothes, but you would have to make due.

With one last glance around what had been your shared bedroom, you made peace with never seeing it or him again.

"I need you to take me to the mall." You instructed one of the guards as you made the trek down the stairs.

"Mrs. Galindo, I don't think—-" You paused at the bottom of the steps, cutting your eyes at him. The guard, Rick, was unsure of which order to follow. Miguel didn't want you out without pre-approval, but you were the one in front of him saying differently.

"I wasn't asking." He didn't look convinced, looking over his shoulder nervously for back up from one of the other guards. "I have necessities to pick up. Do you want to be the one to explain why I don't have what I need to my husband?"

"Mr. Galindo said—"

"I say." Your hands found your hips, preparing to dig in for an argument. Anxious energy bubbled up in your belly as another guard, Brian, approached. You could tell by the look on his face his answer would be no, so you spoke before he could. "I didn't want to get into details, but since you're determined to embarrass me, I'll just say it…" You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms for good measure, looking every bit the part of a spoiled brat. "I'm tired of fighting with my husband, okay? I want to pick up a gift for when he comes home, and I need it to be nice."

That did the trick. They all knew very well what gift was code for. What could a woman possibly get for a man that already had everything? Lingerie.

Rick and Brian quickly discussed it with the others, and soon enough, you were in the car. The other two stayed behind to keep watch of the house, a decision they'd all regret soon enough. You spent the entirety of the car ride reviewing your plan from start to end, step by step. Any potential roadblocks that popped up, you had a tentative solution for.

Your heart beat intensely in your chest as the large building came into view. Each step brought you closer to your new life, to freedom. Slowing outside the store, you turned to face your guards with a sweet smile. "Do you really have to follow me everywhere?" Nods in the affirmative were your only response. You made a face.

"We'll wait for you inside, ma'am. You'll be able to shop privately." Brian gestured for you to step inside. You expected as much so it didn't bother you.

"Thank you."

A saleswoman greeted you as soon as she saw you, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Like everyone else, she knew who your husband was and that your presence could mean a big commission. You declined politely, eyes scanning the store for the woman you had come to see.

Ariana turned the corner at the perfect time, appearing as a beacon of light. She had been one of your best friends growing up, but over time you grew apart. She had her hand in the pot of illegal activities in and around Santo Padre, with Miguel's oversight, of course. You would never have thought the shoplifting pre-teen she had once been would climb the underworld ranks to be in a position to save your life.

Tears welled in your eyes as you hugged. "It's okay." She whispered in your ear, patting your back gently. "Smile." She instructed before pulling away.

You shopped the store as if nothing was amiss, picking out different merchandise. Eventually, you separated, Ari sneaking off to the dressing rooms while you approached your guards. Your breath quickened at the scowl on Brian's face.

"All the stress eating has finally caught up to me." You laughed, but he remained stone-faced. "I need to be measured." You gestured over your shoulder to the dressing room. "It'll only take a few minutes." You did your best not to overthink each step you took, feeling his intense glare on your back.

Once out of his eyesight, you bypassed the dressing rooms, choosing to step inside the door marked 'Employees Only.' Ariana waited for you there, shoving a full backpack into your arms.

"Everything you will need is in there: a new ID and a passport. I even got a hold to a social security number for you. Memorize the information on your paperwork. You don't want to get caught up over something stupid."

You trembled as you processed the information, trying your hardest to breathe in and out deeply.

"Here's a set of keys. The silver Camry is parked directly across from the stairway on level three. The car's clean, registered with insurance and everything so you don't have to worry about being stopped. It has a full tank, and that should last you 600 miles if you're even going that far..." You adjusted the backpack on your back, squeezing the handles of your handbag extra tight. "...There's a cooler with a couple of waters and sandwiches so you won't have to stop." The large handbag hit the floor with a thud. You clasped her hands in your own to stop her rambling.

"Thank you." She swallowed hard, and this time tears welled up in her eyes. "Don't worry, okay? No matter what happens, you did everything you could for me. I'll never be able to repay or thank you enough. I know you're risking a lot..." She shook her head, silencing you.

"You're worth it. Just do me a favor: live a happy life and never come back."

With one last hug, you were off, gaining a head start in the race against El Diablo.

You knew Miguel inside and out--how he would react to the news, and how he would respond. The Galindo Cartel had eyes and ears everywhere. Gas stations, airports, train stations, bus stations were all danger zones. All it would take is a single phone call for you to be caught. He would send men out to scour the city, figuring you couldn't have gotten far. While they wasted their time above ground, you'd be on the move underground.

Miguel would never expect you to use his tunnels to escape. When you had gotten married, he handed over a packet of papers. Among them were resources, numbers you could call, people you could trust if something ever happened to him, and you needed to get out. Also, among the papers were maps of the tunnels. They were hard to make sense of at first, but you studied them relentlessly. One wrong turn could spell disaster, send you in the wrong direction and right back into his arms but you had faith in your abilities.

Besides human error, there was the issue of danger in the tunnels. People associated with him (and some not) used the tunnels to have meetings between shadowy figures or cross between California and Mexico. Smugglers used them to transport El Diablo's heroin. You could run into someone who knew you or worse someone who didn't. Without your husband's protection, you were just a lone woman making a long, perilous journey. It was entirely possible you'd meet your demise, and it'd have nothing to do with Miguel.

There was a very slim chance you'd make it out alive. If you were lucky, you'd eventually make it to the great state of Louisiana. You had friends there that would take you by boat to Mississippi. From there, you’d drive another car down to Florida. If you made it that far, you'd take the risk of getting on a plane. You’d fly to Europe where it would be easier for you to travel between countries.

No matter where your journey ended, it would be well worth it. You wouldn’t live under Miguel's thumb any longer.

GENERAL TAGLIST

@WOAHITSLUCYYLU @BRIANNAB1234 @SHEESHGIVEMEABREAK @BREAKINGNEWSIN-NO-ONEASKED @ANGELREYESGIRL @BLESSEDBOO @GLIMMERGLITTERGIRL @APANTHERINMYPASTLIFE @BROWNSUGARCOFFY @MARVELMAREE @STARRYNITE7114 @SCUZMUNKIE

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes

PART TWO REQUESTS

@blacvenus @myakai13 @losolvidad0s @my-little-wolfe @karensraisns @krysiewithak @langiinspirations @veryfastspeedz @stitchesbystults @itskiranbitch @fanficfavesofthephoenixfangirl @thisobssessionofmine

#mayans mc #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black!reader

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loquaciousquark · 4 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E91 (Jan. 21, 2020)

Good evening, everyone! Sorry about missing last week; @eponymous-rose was out of town and I had some other commitments. Regardless, here we are! Brian is looking handsome and cold, as are Sam & Travis on the couch. Everyone is wearing coats. Is the heat broken?

That said, tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham & Sam Riegel.

Brian starts us off asking Sam if he’s remaking the Wire in Beverly Hills. Sam basically embodies that hello fellow kids meme tonight in a hand-knitted beanie from his wife, a bomber jacket, a yellow tee, and skinny jeans. They quickly photoshop in smoke trailing out of his mouth. We’re just a few minutes in and this is off the rails already.

Announcements: The next issue (#5) of Vox Machina comics comes out Wednesday, Feb. 19! It’s also available online at Dark Horse Digital and Comixology. And that’s it! Huh.

Episode 91: Stone to Clay

Brian tells us this is the first time ever to have Sam & Travis alone on Talks. I’m stunned and so are they. Sam says, “between me, Brian, Dani, and Travis right now, there’s four tens on this show right now.”

We’re already into questions less than ten minutes into the show. Truly this is a remarkable night.

63 in game days and 21 episodes passed between Caduceus’s first mention of Stone (episode 71) and Fjord connecting the dots. Travis blames the internet connection and his really bad ADHD night, as that was the night he and Laura remoted in from the hotel.

Brian tells us that when Ashley used to skype in, she could only see Matt & couldn’t see or really hear anyone else.

Travis says there was a huge delay for him between mouths moving and the audio coming through, and then that audio was pretty distorted. Laura could handle it okay, but Travis just heard a jumble and couldn’t parse it.

Sam took a CBD bath the other day and found it exactly as relaxing as a normal bath. Sam & Travis commiserate about taking baths only to have their knees pop out of the water. Tall people problems smh

Caleb & Nott completed the spell in less than a week, including dealing with the Angel of Irons & brokering peace treaties. Travis though the laughter was going to be Helas.

Travis says he definitely didn’t hear the name the first time (he remembered dust but not stone from the lava pits). “Look! Yes! No, I was not listening before! Thursday nights are my times to enjoy my friends and food! Marisha is an amazing note-taker; why would I ever take my own? This is how I got through college!”

Sam says he keeps a mission checklist in his head and has for ages. He has a page in his notebook labeled “To Do” that includes things like visiting Kiri or Shakaste, in case they have downtime and need ideas.

Travis asks if he continues writing in his (apparently) very small handwriting, and Sam says he has to leave room for Laura to draw all her dicks. They all marvel that she is actually a very good artist.

Travis honestly still thinks the Stone name is a huge coincidence, especially since Taliesin didn’t have access to Fjord’s last name when he created Caduceus’s last name and backstory. Sam challenges Travis that even if that were true, doesn’t he think Matt will find a way to tie it together?

Travis says Fjord doesn’t want anything to do with the last name and it’s not even his real name. He’s not convinced this isn’t a coincidence.

Travis did a lot of research into orphanage naming conventions when coming up with Stone. He does have a backstory as to how the orphanage manager picked Stone as his name.

Travis thinks Matt would have emphasized the Stone name more sooner if it had been a true connection and not coincidence.

Brian: “He does like to take credit for coincidences, doesn’t he?”

Nott didn’t think there was a catch in the ritual; Sam was more surprised they were allowed to achieve the milestone at all. He was shocked it happened so soon in the story and that the spell is relatively easy to cast.

He didn’t know it would fail, but there was a moment when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with it. Travis agrees everyone was shocked when it didn’t work.

Fjord’s current stance on faith and destiny hasn’t changed since the last time he discussed it. Faith is a slow thing for Fjord and he really does think the name is a coincidence.

Sam as a player is excited to see what comes next for Nott; “if she had been transformed into Veth at that moment, I would have been excited to see what comes next. The fact that it’s still Nott makes me excited too. I’m excited to see more of Nott since she’s the best character in the M9.” He also confesses he was a bit relieved, in part because it’s delayed the inevitable. At some point she must decide if she is going to stay or go with the M9.

Cosplay of the Week: @kajicosplays on instagram of a lovely lady Percy. Brian: “Isn’t it fun when Taliesin’s characters live?”

Deep down, Nott knows she will do the transformation at some point, but at that last moment where she had to make a decision she had to check in with herself to make sure she was ready. Sam Riegel as a D&D player also knows that you have to trust your DM and make choices.

Brian misreads the word “ribbing.” Sam teaches Travis what rimming is. We all learn a lot about each other.

Sam thinks Fjord can realize when the time comes to set jokes aside. He thinks Fjord was very respectful. Travis has honestly forgotten that the conversation took place.

Travis has Dani answer from Fjord’s perspective. It’s actually pretty insightful, talking about how Fjord recognized someone hesitant to give up these newfound powers that have become intrinsically tied to self-worth.

Fjord has always been loyal, and Travis sees his protectiveness of the M9 as a logical extension of this.

Right now, he has found some agency & self-direction and is hopeful to share that sense with everyone else (he especially mentions Yasha).

Sam & Travis start quoting from Half-Baked. This is chaos.

Nott does want to stay with the M9, but she also wants to go home for sure, both of those things. The kiss with Caleb wasn’t necessarily a goodbye; it felt like the closing of a chapter. It felt like something to mark the end of the experience.

Now they’re quoting Beverly Hills Cop. Oh, boy.

“You look like you wrote Pitch Perfect.” When did this turn into a roast?

Fjord has no memories earlier than the orphanage (The Driftwood Asylum). There were a couple dozen kids there aside from him; Travis thinks some of them might have been named Stone. It also operated as a small child-labor workshop for carpentry & woodshop stuff. “It was a terrible place all around.” He has no images of parents or being dropped off.

Sam thought the Nott transformation would be more endgame, though he feels it makes sense that it’s not. “While Nott transforming into Veth was my original goal, what’s great about these long games is that your goals can change two or three times before the end. Now I can explore all these other things: does she want to go back and be a housewife? How does she rectify her obligations to her husband and child to the life that she’s made with the M9? It’s so exciting and interesting.”

Brian asks a hypothetical: if she could transform back but lose all Nott’s memories, would she do it? Sam: “Oh, that’s tough. I don’t know.”

Fanart of the Week: a lovely piece by @pen_draws with everyone in the hot tub.

Travis is very trepidatious about returning to the open ocean after rejecting Uk’otoa. He wants to make sure the third temple is sealed. It feels like it would be too easy for someone not to come and try to collect the job he left half-finished. He also wants to go back to Darktow.

Sam doesn’t know if Nott is still in love with Yeza, although she definitely still loves him. He’s playing with the idea of a high school sweetheart being exposed to the world and then going back home. But Yeza’s amazing, a great guy, perfect. “I guess we’ll find out when/if she turns back into Veth.” Sam feels guilty talking about him. “He’s a fictional character and I feel guilty that he might be watching the show.”

Neither Nott nor Fjord trust Essek. Travis: “He just went from being cold and aloof to being really warm. I know there’s been time and he’s lived an isolated life, but...time will show if he’s being genuine. All of our haunches were up. All of us were on level five alert.” He’s being so helpful that Travis doesn’t trust Mercer with him.

Fjord never ever considered becoming a paladin of the Traveler. “No. Fuck no!” The Wildmother reached out and directly intervened to save him. Travis gets super creepy bad vibes from the Traveler’s relationship with Jester (Sam agrees).

Nott feels more pressure when her own problems become the focus. It’s hard for her to open up and talk about her feelings. She’d rather pick up on other people’s problems. Sam also acknowledges it’s more pressure on him (and anyone) as a player when the whole table is looking at you.

And that’s that! Is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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eponymous-rose · 4 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E93 (February 4, 2020)

This week’s guests are Ashley Johnson and Taliesin Jaffe!

Announcement: Thursday, February 27′s episode in Chicago will be an in-canon live episode! VIP tickets go on sale tomorrow at 10 AM Central, and regular tickets will be on sale February 6 at 10 AM Central as well. The World of Critical Role, the new nonfiction book, is available for preorder now! All Work No Play season 2 is upon us: VOD for episode one is available now, up on YouTube on Thursday!

Episode 93: Misery Loves Company (which is SUCH a good title)

Stats for this week’s episode: this is the first episode where Caduceus and Jester have both cast Spirit Guardians in the same battle. Yasha has collected six floral pieces and a scrap of the Laughing Hand’s cloak since we met her. Jester purchased the Dust of Deliciousness from Pumat 62 episodes ago, or 186 Exandrian days. (That’s 22 days longer than Jester has had Sprinkle.)

Reactions to the cupcake moment? Neither of them had any idea Jester had something up her sleeve; they both bought it right up to the end. Taliesin thought the hand offer was just another self-sacrificial one-up, and Ashley knew it was too extreme but was still worried because of Jester’s impulsiveness. Ashley mentions how cool it was that Jester used Modify Memory in such a positive way.

Taliesin was trying to think of something that would be “appropriately sad enough” to offer to appease Matt. “Clay was thinking of offering to never go home again. So still save everything, but just be like, I agree that once it’s up it’s fine.”

Ashley on making a deal to bring Zuala back to life: “I love how everyone assumes I was thinking of Zuala.” Not making the deal was a moment of growth for Yasha, “but I think bringing back--- she’s lost a lot of people, and so I think it’s constantly on her mind, of maybe life wouldn’t be so hard or so bad if I could have some of these people I love back. Where we see some of the growth in Yasha was that she was able to put some of that aside, knowing they were there for Nott.”

Taliesin is asked whether Percy’s yelling in the back of his head during scenes like this: “There was no good way out of this problem, so I didn’t have [Percy] screaming at me that there was an obvious or easy solution.”

Ashley on Yasha’s offer getting rejected because Yasha was already too miserable: “I think, weirdly, there was some comfort in that, of knowing that maybe it couldn’t get any worse. I think it was almost good for her to hear that: you’re the bottom of the barrel right now. I do think she’s slowly finding happiness with her friends and slowly getting comfortable with those relationships again.” She highlights Caleb as “a companion in misery”. She’s growing and becoming more comfortable. “It’s a really good group of people, and they all do genuinely love each other, and I think this past game kind of showed that to her.”

On Nott’s deal, Taliesin: “Ahh, we wouldn’t have let that happen.” Ashley: “I have some thoughts on that.” Taliesin: “Yeah, that’s some RP stuff that may come up later. I do understand and respect how Sam plays Nott, as hyper-volatile, as part of the goblinization of Nott is to make her inappropriately emotionally volatile towards things.”

There’s a brief foray into the legality of ferrets as pets in the state of California, as you do. Kindergarten Cop and Bunnicula are cited.

Ashley: “I don’t know how invested Yasha is necessarily in this war. Because of how she grew up and was raised, there’s other things to her that are more important.” Taliesin: “Clay thinks Nott needs therapy.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Grog! (DressedUpMegs on Instagram, photo by LMShoots)

On Clay’s reaction to the hag: “He’s not a fan” of someone dealing in the changing of fate. He would have been okay with having to kill her if it came down to it. “It’s not necromancy, but it’s next-door to it.” But he was trying to take his cues from everyone else. “She was fuckin’ scary. Too many elbows.”

Matt told Brian after the session that he would have cliffhangered the fight if it had come to that, since it was likely to be a substantial endeavor. (Matt posted a picture of the map on Twitter!)

It was tough for Yasha to resist the urge to just jump in and attack the hag while they were one-on-one. “I’m not at the point yet to make an executive decision for the whole party, but whew, me, I was ready to kill her the second I walked in. I think Yasha was ready to go, but I think also it showed growth as well that she didn’t do it and walked out the door.”

Caduceus interpreted the “less intensity” statement Matt made when he asked about his family at the menagerie was that not everyone’s there yet. Caduceus was also embarrassed that he had to ask; he saw it as a sign of cowardice and a moment of weakness.

Yasha’s thoughts on Beau’s offer: “Yasha wasn’t about to let that happen after she finally just got back with the group. I was like, yeah, you’re not about to leave once I just got back to you. I didn’t necessarily see it as one-upping each other, but I think all of us were saying, no, I’m not going to let you do that, I’ll do something.”

Marisha tries to sneak out stealthily and Henry barks at her, forcing a cameo!

Marisha: “It makes super sense in Beau’s headspace where she is, and Beau likes controlling situations. Beau’s in a bit of a fucked-up headspace. Parents, man.”

On Jester leaning into the more serious side of the Trickery domain versus the small pranks, Taliesin: “I feel like it’s all a grand scheme, personally.” Ashley: “We don’t fully know what happened in there yet. It’s so hard not to be impressed by it.” Taliesin: “So hard not to be impressed.” They’re both pretty sure there will be consequences that Matt will spring on them in forty or so episodes...

Fan Art of the Week: Jester and the hag! (CaitMayArt on Twitter)

What was it like seeing the Traveler in physical form? Ashley: “Mixed feelings about that, for sure. I think Yasha’s very-- the relationship that Jester has with the Traveler is very intriguing to Yasha because there’s an intimacy and a closeness there that she finds very strange. But also thinks the Traveler is-- something’s up.” Taliesin: “It’s a little weird, man. Little weird.”

Why did Yasha ask Caleb about who he loves? “I think she asked him because she cares about him a lot, and I think they’ve obviously both had this weird connection of recognizing they’ve both been through things that are tough. Tough is obviously putting it lightly. What I’ve noticed in playing the game, and in the RP that seems to pop up, is that-- I don’t mean this to sound, I don’t know. She definitely cares a lot for these people, and about their well-being. And I think there’s something in her that knows how suffering feels, and seeing someone else dealing with it is too hard for her. With Caleb, she really cares about him, and sees he cares about someone, at least how I’ve taken it-- whether or not we mean the same person is interesting, because Liam and I haven’t even talked about this. But I think it’s one of those things where she knows what she’d been through with Zuala. I’m trying to figure out how to dance around this. She said it because she cares about him and wants him to be happy. It came out of care and wanting something good for him.”

Does Cad feel like his plans are getting overridden by the group? “I think ‘plans’ is a bold word. No, he’s not bothered by that. He’s got no particular problem with action or inaction. Percy would dwell on something like that. Clay doesn’t really-- he’s perfectly content to be like, oh, someone else had an idea, okay. He’s perfectly fine if other people have a thing to do, then, yeah, he has no ego about it.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #long text post #talks machina #talks machina spoilers

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getreadytosmash · 3 years

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Small smash headcanons I was thinking of and to put out my reboot designs

Skaar

Skaar took a more gladiator look from his time on Sakaar and no longer wears the loin cloth except for when he's on off days

His hair gets to around his upper back and often tends to be in buns and ponytails

Working on his reading and writing and gets help from Hulk and goes to the Xavier Institute for sessions with his mind control and memories

Got introduced to queer stuff by Rick and he was THRILLED to find out about this stuff and the footage of Skaar carefully picking out non binary, asexual and panromantic stuff was trending for a month

Yes I'm going into pridecanons a little more

Skaar's very happy with his own feelings of being nb. The rocks below him whisper about it always being fine and he doesn't need to care about what others say anyway. Not when they're too busy calling him a monster to care about his gender

Anyway. Skaar's sex neutral and I say this because its quite often the theory that all ace folks won't have kids blah blah but??? Some aces want sex to have kids and that's Skaar.

Ridiculously good sword fighter and often meets up with Nightcrawler and Shadowcat to have sword fights and compare tricks

Lots of whipping scars on his back and some around his mouth that hardly anyone knows are from

Has a matching scar with Red of a circle on the back of his neck as well as running lighting scars up his hands and feet with Rick, Red and Jen from where the Skrulls tried to harvest their gamma

Absolutely has the tattoo and has no clue about it

Occasionally has days where he can't remember the entire event and Skaar's become rather thankful that they can rely on Rick's cameras to guide him home if needed.

Adores the Savage Lands and is best friends with Kazaar and Zabu

Sometimes copies memes from Rick and it’s terrible

Likes having Jen help him with normal stuff, especially when she helps him learn stuff like reading and writing

Rick

Yeah, can’t feel anything and that causes a few secret depression episodes aha

Big on other sensory stuff now. Really likes to savour sights, sounds, taste and smells since he lacks a big ass part of it now. It really isn’t that uncommon for Rick to have a low of flowers within his bedroom and shit.

Has to file down his spikes since they keep growing and often Hulk does it for him while Rick falls asleep

Rick needs a lot more protein now and often eats eggs or fish and gets into big fights with Red over it daily

Uses a stylish for everything since his fingers don’t work on touchscreens anymore

Often wears sleeveless jackets with different pins. Owns four of them with three of them entirely dedicated to alien, mutant and bi rights

Well known Youtuber and I really need to get around to writing some videos he’s done god someone remind me to put out that shit

Hardcore gamer and still screams at Samuel to help make a dating sim come oN-

Can hold his breath for an hour and a half and didn’t realise until he fell asleep in the bath and got woken up by Hulk panicking and tossing him out of the water

Very intent on mutant rights and often helps out with teenage mutants and raising the social status of the school

Loves bi culture and is very defensive over aspects of his identity after years of feeling lost among the orphanages

Has gotten more comfortable with his gender since he’s been wearing kilts and skirts for almost two years now

Used to have scars across his hands and thighs from years of canings from the nuns but now has a large cracked scar across his chest after Abomination ripped his shell off

Red unintentionally fathers him and blames Hulk

Best pals with Jen and Betty and is the only one who gets to join them on Ladies Night with Lyra and Marlo

Stands on his tip toes when talking to Hulk often because he wants to be tall and it amuses Hulk to no end

Jen

Has a lot of different costumes she changes regularly and Rick always posts a vote on “What outfit has Jen got this week?”

Freckles and curly hair galore

Hulk paints her nails and she does the same for him and it isn’t long before Skaar joins in

Works in New York but stays at Vista Verde for her time off

Yes i do want a all female gamma mutate team and yes they are A-force

They consist of Jen, Betty, Lyra, Carmilla and Marlo but are sometimes joined by other female heroes

Wears sweatband wrists, left one is the bi flag and the right one is the trans flag

Was afraid about being open towards loving women for a few years since Jen knew her father didn’t do anything about Bruce’s abuse, what would happen to her if Brian found out she liked more than boys? Came out after hulking out and is happier than ever

The same goes for being trans since Jen’s form is based heavily on her mentality of her body. Gamma gave Jen the body she wanted and she was SO pleased with it

tbh I do imagine she was more comic/noodle armed at the start since Jen wanted to look rather feminine but over time she’s gotten more comfortable with her body and idea of who she wants to be and slowly she got beefier

Has two wardrobes at the base and makes Red help rearrange stuff for laughs

Pals with Samuel and often enjoys sitting around and dragging him out for shopping and starbucks while discussing cases

The one who appears in Rick’s youtube videos the most

Can never finish a book and feels deep seeded adhd guilt

Sings outloud to every thing she hears

Likes grape flavoured stuff and she is so thankful that she can’t die for that sin

BEST pals with Betty and Rick. Like. There’s a reason my “Betty is the OG Hulk and is a lil wlw with Jen” has happened honestly

Has vitiligo patches of grey around her arms that were left over from her more traumatic transformations

Watches Red bake if she’s having a panic attack and the videos don’t help

Red

Has a lot of scars over his body from where Ghost Rider’s chain dug into him and left him burnt. idk seems really fucking cool

Like Jen, has yellow patches along his spine and hands from where he was joined mentally with Zzzax

Still gets nightmares about said incident and is still scared for the day that a nightmare is actually happening

Started to bake because it helps from when he couldn’t control his heat powers or during ptsd attacks

Tends to get lost in work alongside Samuel, especially if they’re overly excited about a certain idea

Hulk fondly calls him a nerd for this exact reason and Red tackles him over it to this day

Tech reacts to him badly sometimes due to his possession issues and there’s been once or twice where he’s had some...odd experiences when it’s come to certain technology or alien tech

Stays the same mostly with his outfits but occasionally wears a leather jacket and fuck it takes his shirt off a lot he’s a dilf he can do that

The one who crouches for humans the most and it isn’t uncommon for him to do it purely to unsettle the humans. Ass

Uh. Likes women but??? Sometimes there’s an annoying guy and shit being able to be easily suplexed now means that anyone who can do it can kinda catch his eyes and he fucked a demon- uh. Red has a lot of thoughts now about dating and it’s nerve-wracking

Still does missions with his Thunderbolt team and still hangs out with Hell’s Circle team when he met others that had been dragged down to hell as well

Gets courted by vampires and hates the fact that the others laugh at it

Gets nightmares of crashing, of electric burning him away but doesn’t want to admit to the fact that he has some ptsd

Not really Red but fuck it Betty has her own team and I’m shifting the Gamma Corps for Betty so her team involves; Betty (Harpy), Marlo (Sirin), Clay (Hulkverine), Lyra (Athen), Carmilla (Scorpion) and Gwen (Daydream)

Right. Uh. So for those who don’t know who Daydream are, basically the writer at this time had been going through a bad divorce and he treated Betty like SHIT which involved breaking Bretty up before they could have a child, making Betty suffer a miscarriage, killing her and having the villain Nightmare raping her in her sleep and having Betty give birth to Daydream who appeared for one arc and was never seen again. So. I’m mad.

anyway fuck him but I did like Daydream so instead she was an experiment from gamma base as a unique weapon that got used to infiltrate the Agents sleep but was later on rescued along with the rest of the gamma experiments. Got adopted by Betty when she found out Gwen had her DNA and went “oh worm?” to getting a baby i have more thoughts about this but u know. carry on.

Hulk

So Tired. Part time team leader and Avengers and even has his many own adventures of trying to help so many people out

I imagine he has a lot of the same issues as Steven in suf where Hulk often stresses out more about not being able to help people since he worries about the worst case scenarios

Gets forced to take days off by each of the team and appreciates it but dear god if he doesn’t get anxiety about the whole situation every time

SomeTIMES he wears a blue shirt but only sometimes and that’s if he’s actually prepared for missions. Also has boots Red got him but Hulk keeps those clean and safe instead

Team dad for a reason. Fathers anything he can get his hands on and well known for it enough that Rick and Skaar get him something for fathers day every year and Jen gets him goofy ties because she KNOWS he doesn’t throw them out

Pretty relaxed about being pan and yes he makes jokes about being attracted to kitchenware he’s THAT terrible Rick wants to die and not come back pls

Buys a lot of pride stuff for the others. Skaar owns so many nb and ace colour chalks he needs help

Really wants to own a guinea pig but he’s worried about scaring it or not being around all that often to take care of it properly

Falls asleep through almost every movie that he usually starts one half of it one day and finishes it the next day

Meets up with Ben Grimm and Logan Howlett every Wednesday for a night out. Usually they do bowling, play cards or go out to eat. It’s isn’t uncommon for other heroes like Spidey or Gambit to join them occasionally

Has business lunches with Betty to discuss movements of gamma mutates that turns into a fun brawl because they’re immortal children

Keeps a whiteboard in his room so that he can have arguments with Joe and Bruce.

Samuel

Keeps his outfit relatively the same but adjusts it slightly so it isn’t the exact same outfit he wears back when he was evil

Tends to cover up more after he gains a power that lets him control people just by touch

Aware of this power and thus often awkwardly flitters when someone near him might be upset and keeps spare gloves or arm sleeves on hard just in case

Has the sharpest teeth of all the hulks and actually tends to file them down so he doesn’t need to “scare people off” when in reality he’s self conscious about his teeth and the fact that he keeps biting his tongue by accident

Buys and redesigns Icarus’s cage every other month to make it more elaborate, is currently fighting the constant urge to buy more rats for this reason

Demiboy! Fine with what he is, doesn’t give a shit. He rules hell and he’ll send you there if you argue with him so who the fuck cares if Samuel wears dresses and makeup?

Big stupid bi. Cannonly into women who are more powerful than him with examples being Rikki (Aka Brilliance, a female Leader) who kicked his ass and threw him across the room with her more advanced mind, Betty Ross...who can blame him, and lately is that one scientist in Hulkverine who Samuel literally fell for within one night sksksk

Big manipulator for people he cares about. Samuel has and will make elaborate plans to keep someone he cares about safe and is more than willing to kill anyone who has hurt his loved ones

Owns a large collection of nail polishes and tends to vary them when he’s bored and creates amazing art. Red watched Samuel once spend and hour re-creating all of Van Gogh’s paintings on his nails

Really good friends with Betty surprisingly, mostly because she can make jokes about being dead and he’ll just snort and go “same”

Has the second best sense of smell after Skaar as he can smell early signs of sickness as well as a wider range of emotions

Info dumps so much and has long winded theories about the oddest things that resonate really well on the Youtube channel

talks to his oversized rat so seriously

Suffers nightmares and currently runs the Down Below and is so tired

Has actually died from exhaustion twice already

Has large sockets in his back due to the fact that Samuel physically cannot hold the information he knows all the time and uses it to charge his phone

Still hangs out with villains like Loki and Mystique tho

#Headcanon #found in body lost in mind (Skaar)#movie star (Rick)#green goddess (Jen)#one man army (Red)#the loneliest there is (Hulk)#he swims in a sea of regret (Leader)#hate and love are both red (Betty)

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probablyottrpgideas · 3 years

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Tabletop Asks

In reference to the previous post: 1.) Game Master, Player or both? Why?

I am currently lucky enough to be player in one game and DM in another (both 5e D&D), however ordinarily I am overwhelmingly the DM/GM.

2.) When did you start role playing? How old were you?

My first start with published tabletop adventures was actually quite late, in my second year of university when I was about 19, so 11 years ago now, with D&D 4e. However, I think my first freeform roleplaying experiences were with a mate of mine all the way back in primary school, where we had this quite extensive worldbuilding and characters. It was my first introduction to the idea that I wanted to be a writer.

3.) What was the first role playing book you ever owned?

The 4e PHB, DMG and MM all at the same time. I had a job then, missed playing, decided “fuck it, I’ll start my own” and dived in.

4.) Describe the first game you ever ran or played in.

A 4e Starters Box run on Keep on the Borderlands. I played a Dwarf Fighter out of the box, which I named Xzienne (which some of you know is my regular online handle). He was fun; in my oh-so-extra way, I kept my game notes as In-Character journal entries.

5.) Which system did you grow up with?

D&D, all the way. Fourth edition and then Fifth, with a look at Third in between. But I’ve played about a dozen or two different systems all up.

6.) Which system do you play now?

Predominantly 5e

7.) Longest campaign you’ve run or played in?

My D&D “Empires Intelligence Services” campaign ran from 2016-2020.

8.) Where did you meet your current gaming group?

I tend to throw my groups together from among various people I know from all over. My favourite group ever was the one formed entirely of cast members from our local theatre company production of Wicked.

9.) Strategic combat or dramatic plotlines?

Does it need to be either/or? I feel like good drama gets you invested in the character’s outcomes, good combat (or puzzles or traps or whatever) gets you invested in the character’s actions. You want people to achieve their goals with emotional satisfaction but without just narrating to them; they need to feel involved in the process of making those goals come about. Challenges are not just there for the Power Gamers and the Slayers, they make the plotlines feel satisfying for everyone.

10.) Favorite RPG genre?

I love Science Fiction and I love Fantasy, and my own work so often smashes the two together. I write a lot of Contemporary/Urban Fantasy, and my D&D world is a magepunk magitech setting with spacefaring aircraft and so forth.

PLAYER CHARACTERS - Describe:

11.) Your first character.

Xzienne the Dwarven Fighter, mentioned above. My first character I made though, on the other hand, not including NPCs, was much later. I think it was probably Tetsuo, my Shin-jin from a Dragonball RPG

12.) Your favorite character.

Definitely Ortlinde. An Aasimar Witch who was the granddaughter of a Valkyrie, and was mad that the gods would be so callous as to bar her mother from Valhalla just because she wasn’t a warrior, and so tried to stage a coup against Asgard. Fuck she was cool.

13.) Your most ridiculous character.

If not Ortlinde, then possibly Parian, my 13th Age Bard whose “One Unique Thing” (a 13th Age mechanic that I love) was that he could modify his spells on the fly by casting the verbal components as full poems, which I would write and perform in-session. I once got to add a Fear effect to a Thunderwave because I made it sound like the trumpets of judgement day, and I managed to cast Charm Person but with an allied player as the focus of the target’s charm by making the poem about their character.

14.) The best in-character line you’ve ever had.

Not a lot of what other players have said have stuck with me, really. Possibly my favourite was Alice’s ranger in Castles and Crusades who said a whole lot of buckwild shit until my halfling begged her not to talk.

Whereupon she shortly thereafter discovered a secret Dryad home inside a tree, and didn’t mention it to the party. When asked why?

“You told me not to talk.”

15.) Your most epic death.

I haven’t died that often, to be honest. Probably the most memorable death was Parian, who got crushed in a moving wall trap and had to be scooped up in a bag and carried around as “bard soup” until a True Resurrection could be cast.

16.) Your most disappointing death.

See above.

17.) Something that shouldn’t have worked, but did.

Meliorn Metcalfe, Tiefling Spellbinder, orchestrating an ambush in a town square against the people who had been sending thugs to attack the party in their beds and stealing shit from the townsfolk. I set up traps (clay pots filled with caltrops and poison), used sunrods to blind the attackers while we had our backs to the light, and we greased the buildings around the area so that they couldn’t climb to safety. It went perfectly, even after they rocked up with a gargoyle.

18.) Something that went hilariously awry.

Just recently I was playing in a Wildemount game which saw the party running Benny Hill style around an ancient lab from a Wight. In the process I got nearly killed by both flying knives and a very angry carpet.

19.) Your most memorable in-character moment.

Ortlinde’s speech to Frigg, lambasting the Gods for their mistreatment of mortals.

20.) The coolest item you ever got and how you came to possess it.

The Masque of Clavicus Vile, from the Elder Scrolls games, pulled from Niddhogr’s treasure hoard and buffing my Spell Save DC to 27 (including other stuff like class features for the Witch and another item which synergised with those).

GAME MASTERS - Describe:

21.) Your favorite NPC and how the party reacted to him/her

By far Celia Sapienza, Eladrin Kensai, who became the party Mum even though she was younger than a few of them. She’s now the head of the Empires Intelligence Services Northern Branch.

22.) A game you wish you could run or want to run someday.

I’ve been eyeing off Dread, Skullduggery and Leverage for years, but I also recently got the Dishonoured game which looks sick as, and Blades in the Dark, and...

23.) Something you made up on the spot.

So so much, but most recently I had a Marid sailor NPC who I had to improvise and entire story of his previous voyages. I did it in a Brian Blessed voice and the players, no shit, fucking applauded.

24.) Your most successful game.

The Wild Huntresses, finally figuring out who had killed the town alchemist and facing off against her and her pet Water Elemental in the caves beneath the hills. Such an epic game. God I miss that group.

25.) Your least successful game.

Paranoia, but that’s just built into the premise.

26.) The craziest thing your players have ever done, and how it affected your plans.

I had a player walk straight out the front doors of a castle under siege. I hit him with 2 dozen crossbow bolts. That guy was an asshole.

27.) Your favorite setting or game location.

I massively love the idea of Eberron, and I love the MTG crossover settings like Ravnica and Theros.

28.) Your creative process when you plan a game.

Typically write about a page of notes for every 2-10 hours of gameplay, depending on the amount of combat expected. Things like important NPCs and what they want, where the party are expected to go in general terms and some ideas for things to throw at them when they inevitably wander off the path, that sort of thing. If it’s really plot important, though, I’ve been known to write pages and pages of lore and character info to hopefully seed into conversations. I also once wrote a full script that we did as a table read for a big conversation between a bunch of NPCs that the party were there to listen to but not be involved in.

29.) The best / worst character concept you’ve ever heard.

No character concept that fits within the rules is ever really bad, although sometimes the execution isn’t great. Some are very, very dumb, like say every character ever built or played by the asshole player I mentioned a few entries back.

30.) What makes GMing fun for you.

Players getting invested in the world and in each other’s stories. Nothing makes me feel better as a GM than being able to sit back while the players have a full in-character conversation with each other.

#tabletop #asks

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zankivich · 5 years

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The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 6

a/n: Hi. I know no one reads this so not really gonna bother. Like if you liked. Reblog if you care at all. Maybe buy my broke as a ko-fi so I can survive this semester? K bye.

WARNINGS: Soft smut?

*Shawn’s point of view*

A night out on the town is exactly what he needed. When his best friend Brian flew to town, it meant to clear his schedule and probably have 911 on speed dial for any ambulance like purposes. With the state of his relationship with his dad at the time, he was in desperate need for things to make sense again. And they weren’t. They just fucking weren’t. Enter Brian.

“Shawn motherfucking mendes! Did you miss me? Tell me you missed me!” His best friend snorted practically hopping into his arms in the middle of JFK

“Not enough to carry your dumb ass, get the fuck of me!” He chuckled.

“I am so fucking excited to be back in this city man. The pussy is just something different out here, ya know? Now if only my best friend flew me out more than once a year.”

He threw Brian’s bags into the trunk of his car and ignored his best, but idioctic, friend.

“Yea, I invite your ass out here more than once a year and my dad will have both of our asses. That’s assuming you don’t kill us first.”

“You wake up in Tijuana one time, and suddenly I’m a bad influence?”

“We were in the fucking Bahamas, Brian!”

“So, not my sharpest moment! I got us home didn’t I?”

“No, jackass, my dad got us home. You got chlaymdia and a fucking sunburn. Now get in the car before I leave your ginger ass here!”

“Fair, that’s fair.”

Brian had been on his soccer team in the first grade. They’d been best friends ever since. When his dad moved the entire family out to California, Brian was with them for every holiday and every break they could find. The two were inseparable. Brian was a jackass, and he got Shawn into far more trouble than he did anything good. But he was his best friend. He’d been there for him, the first time his dad cheated on his mom. The first time he got his heart broken. When his dad had taken everything from him. So, there was a loyalty between the two of them that was unmatched. They’d do anything for each other. Anything.

So, there’s no one else he’d rather sit on his couch with in the middle of the afternoon and smoke the kind of weed that made your knees numb. That’s the kind of friendship he needed.

“What the fuck have you been up to lately?” Brian coughed around the bowl. “I haven’t heard from you in forever.”

He chuckled up at the ceiling which was maybe the most prettiest ceiling he’d ever seen. Wow.

“Man, my dad is totally up my ass about ‘ continuing his legacy’. I like ‘work’ now. Real shit. And then... I’ve been fucking honest to god the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Not enough hours in the day I guess.”

“Yea, what else is new?”

He shook his head. “Nah bro. You don’t understand. Like even I don’t know how I pulled her. She’s thirty years old. My dad’s fucking terrified of her. She got three of the top artists of the year under her belt, and she lets me make her cum until she passes out. It’s fucking addicting.”

Brian passed the bowl, and Shawn worked on taking three big hits, the smoke filling his lungs and taking over his whole body.

“Hold up. You’re fucking the same chick like...consistently? Since fucking when?”

“Since...Since she gave me the best orgasm of my entire life? Since...I don’t know, since my dad makes me so fucking stressed all the time I feel like I’m gonna explode. I mean it man, it’s bad. It’s worse than I ever could’ve imagined.”

Brian, for all the jackass that he definitely was, still turned to his friend and gave him a glance check of wellness. That glance to look for damage, to look for signs of mental distress, of pain. Brian knew. He always knew better than anyone.

“Then why don’t you just tell him to stick his job up his ass, man? You knew you didn’t want this from the beginning. You can get out from under him!”

They’d had this conversation since Shawn had turned twenty-one and his dad insisted he start learning the ropes. The company would be his one day, assuming he stuck it out until his old man keeled over.

“I can’t. He’s got me; we both know it. I either fall in line and get my inheritance next year, or I leave now and I’m fucked. H--He promised he’d give me my masters then. He promised.”

“Yea, but your dad is maybe the most evil bastard I’ve ever met. No offense. I just don’t want to see you waste your life away doing this shit that makes you unhappy only to find out that it wasn’t even worth it in the end.”

“I know man,” He responded glumly. “I know.”

Too somber of a topic for getting high, they each settle a little more bonelessly into the couch and lean on each other’s shoulders as the high take it’s full effect.

“So the Shawn Mendes is fucking the same girl on the daily? You two exclusive or something?”

“Nah man we just...have an understanding. We lead really stressed out lives. I kind of want to boss someone around a little bit, and she wants to not have to give any orders for a change. We just work well.” He shrugged.

“Oh, so it’s just casual sex then?”

“Yea...Casual. Sure.”

“Well, you don’t sound so sure.” Brian snorted. “You catching feelings or something?”

“No! No. I--I’m not, man. She’s just weird. She’s not like the girls I usually fuck around with. She’s a little harder to read.” He shrugged.

“No shit, man she’s fucking thirty!”

He didn’t know if he should tell Brian about Miami. About holding her during the show. How they slept together, just slept, in her hotel room. How it was the most well rested he’d felt in months. It wasn’t the conversations they usually had. Shawn hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in over three years, and there was a reason for that. Women were too much of a headache, always wanted more than you could give them. As long as he was single, he was in control. And it wasn’t like y/n even wanted to be with him. Half the time he couldn’t figure out if she hated him still, if she still viewed him as just an extension of his father. The part of him that wanted to change that, that wanted her to view him at something else, didn’t vibe well with the voice in his head that kept reminding him it wasn’t supposed to matter.

So, they get dressed up. Shawn orders them a car to stop at all the places in NYC that one only went to if they had money, power, fame, or some combo of the three. The city was his stomping ground of sorts. He felt good there, much better than he did in LA. Things can move just as fast in LA, but somehow it feels a little less artificial. Maybe it isn’t, maybe he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t really care. Just needs to not think for a while.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Friendship dates are instrumental when you work together. It’s important to have a space that isn’t dominated by work or business. So, once a week, as long as your schedule permitted it, you and Tiana would just go for best friend time. It could be drinks, dinner, a movie, a yoga class when you were both feeling particularly dumb. On this week’s agenda you were taking a sculpting class. You liked clay, and Tiana liked the fact that they served wine. It was easily a win-win situation.

“So… How was Florida?”

Your hands stumbled on the piece of clay you had been in the middle of scoring and you definitely ripped a whole in it. Idiot.

“Florida? Why do you ask? What happened in Florida? Nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow and stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were crazy.

“Bitch is you crazy?” She snorted.

Fair.

“Bitch you the one asking dumb ass questions.”

“Mhmmm . . . So I spoke to Mike the other day.”

You paused in your work and looked over to see her twirling her little wine glass in her hands like the rude little gremlin she was.

“Is that so?” You huffed. “Spit it out, wench.”

“Oh don’t mind me. My niggas barely uber to see me. Let alone fly by jet.”

“Oh for fucks sake. You and Mike gossip more than my mama and her friends.”

She cackled and took a sip from her glass. “And we love it, sis! Now if you don’t unbunch your soaked ass panties and start sharing details, I swear fo’ god. What are best friends for anyway?”

“There is nothing to tell, heffer.” you sighed going back to your precious clay. “He just needed some very specific release and came to Miami to get it.”

“Yea? Well Mike says he stayed through Orlando.”

“Mike needs to keep his mouth shut before he gets fired.”

“Why would you lie to me of all people. Who am I gone tell about you and Shawn Mendes’ rendezvous?”

You rolled your eyes and threw your tools to the table. In hindsight, Shawn had been burning a whole in your mind the past few months. And you hadn’t talked about it all, had no one you could really share it with. Tiana was your ride or die. If there was anyone in the world you could talk to? It was her.

“Okay. Okay fine.” You sighed. “I was kidding though. He was really frustrated and he didn’t want to wait for me to come back to NYC. So I jokingly told him he could come to Miami. I didn’t know his ass was going to show up! And when he did...we fucked at first. And it was fine. It was good like it always is but then…”

“Oooo. Bitch don’t clam up at the good part. What happened next?” She encouraged.

“You know when Ariana does needy and the moon rises and it’s like kind of a romantic, maybe sad, bop?”

“Yes?”

“Well...You know how I get into my feelings sometimes. I guess I maybe leaned my head on his shoulder a little bit. And then he--he wrapped his arms around me. For the rest of the show. Even Break free. Didn’t take his arms away the whole time... That’s weird right? Like why would he do that?”

“Because he has sipped from the valleys of the African diaspora and he is hooked, bitch!”

Tiana bust out laughing getting them dirty looks once again from the white women who came there to nurse their minor alcoholism. Oh well.

“Very funny. I’m serious, Ti!” You whined. “I don’t...do this. I don’t know how to do anything but hooks up. And with a man almost six years younger than me?”

“So you want to date him?”

“No!” You hissed beneath your breath. “No...well I mean I don’t know. It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to date me okay. It was just a lapse in judgement.”

“Yea, okay. I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me what the hell else happened?”

“Well we spent like three or four days together. And he just kind of hung out while I worked. And we had sex...a lot. Like three or four times a day. It was so intense. And then every night for the show we would go out and watch and he kept putting his arms around me. What the fuck does that mean, Ti? ”

“It meannnns he likes you bitch.” Ti rolled her eyes. “What else could it mean?”

“You know who we’re talking about here. It’s Shawn. Shawn doesn’t do anything but get women into bed with them. We both know that.”

“Yes. We also both knew that he didn’t hook up with a woman more than once. You two have been screwing longer than most of your past relationships. So let’s stop pretending that we’ve got this white boy squared up when obviously we don’t.”

You sighed letting your face come to rest on your clay covered hands.

“I just...I can’t afford to let him catch me slipping, Ti. Whether I like him or not doesn’t matter. I can’t let his dad get in the way of my goals.”

Tiana nodded and placed her wine glass down to take your hand in hers.

“Girl, I get it. White men are trash and as much as we make fun of them, there is a fear there that we cannot let go of. But you cannot, I repeat, you cannot let that man dictate your life. He’s not worth it. He’s had not a damn thing to do with your success, and he will not lead to your downfall. Now if Shawn turns out to be more than what we thought he was, then let that be enough. Don’t ruin it for Manny’s sake. He doesn’t deserve that much of your energy.”

And that was why she was your best friend. She was the most intelligent person you knew. She was funny and wild and crazy, but she kept you centered in a way that no one else could. And she always made shit make sense. Even when you were fought it with every fiber of your being. There was no use. Tiana was always right.

“Yea, okay. Let’s just let it die for now. I don’t think even Shawn knows what he wants yet tbh. No reason for me to think too much into it now.”

“Whatever you say sis. whatever you say.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

It’s dark. There are bodies everywhere and the strobe lights illuminate a face every once in awhile. Brian’s talking to some blonde that’s five inches taller than him. There’s a brunette to his right that keeps whispering in his ear and playing with his hair. He’s not drunk enough for this. His whole vibe is off, and he’s not quite sure why. Why can’t he fall back into who he’s always been.

“Do you wanna take me home tonight?” She murmured wrapping one of his curls around her finger.

He snorted. “I don’t exactly take people home sweetheart.”

“Oh...Well, do you wanna come over to mine? I live close by.”

“Yea, maybe later. I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?”

“S--Sure. Thank you.”

He slides off the couch in search of more bottle service. He’s got a feeling that there might not be enough in the state.

Brian finds him searching for answers in a shot glass. He slides his hands sloppily along his shoulders and he already knows what he’s about to say.

“Bro! This chick’s all over me. Can I use your spare room?”

He shrugs. “Sure, whatever man.”

“What about your girl? You ready to go back?”

“I don’t know man. I’m just not feeling it.”

Brian’s eyes widened in confusion. “The fuck is there not to feel? Just pull your dick out and find friction.”

“Just go grab your girl and let’s get the fuck out of here, aye?”

He tried to focus his eyes on his, which just resulted in his head wobbling a little bit. Shawn sure hoped he didn’t have whiskey dick, cause he’d never heard the end of it.

“You seriously not getting any tonight?”

Oh he was getting some. Just not the likes of what NYC’s latest size negative two of the month had to offer.

Apparently Blondy and Brunette are friends. When Brunette finds out Blondy is getting in the car, and she isn’t there’s a little bit of a hick up. Somehow Brian still convinces Blondy to get into the car. His best friend might have at least mediocre game. The ride back is full of obscene kissing noises, and Brian trying to convince this poor woman he’s going to be able to make her cum tonight. Home couldn’t come fast enough.

Shawn: come over.

y/n: oooo I feel like Cinderella being cuarted at the ball.

y/n: Negro it is one am. No.

Shawn: I’ll send you a car. Come in those horrid little fluffy pjs I saw in your suitcase in Orlando. Idc. I’d get you a pumpkin carriage but I think the dealership might be fresh out of those.

y/n: YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THOSE. YOU WERE NOT INVITED TO THE TOUR.

Shawn: Please? I’m too drunk to argue with you. My best friend is about to seriously dissapoint this poor woman tonight in my guest bedroom, and it’s gonna fuck up the whole vibe of my space. Some good sex must be had tonight.

y/n: the amount of bullshit that comes out of your mouth on a daily basis. Truly remarkable.

Shawn: I’m sending you a car. You don’t even have to take your bonnet off.

y/n: You are not fucking me with my bonnet on. My black grandmama anscestors would haunt my ass with negro spirituals for the rest of eternity.

Shawn: Noted. I’ll see you in forty five?

y/n: Ugh. Whatever.

Fucking finally.

***

He’s still in his jeans from the club and reclining on his bed as the alcohol races through his system when the app alerts him that she’s on her way up from the lobby. Thank god for fancy passcodes that mean he doesn’t have to let her in. He lurches up out of bed to meet her at the door. His guest bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, and he’s hopeful that the sounds won’t make it over to them. He just wants to focus on her tonight. Nothing else.

Since their weird little bubble in Florida, they hadn’t talked about any of it. Y/n arrived back in town and immediately asked to be tied up, gagged, and whatever else meant that they were focused on nothing but the bedroom. It didn’t hurt his feelings at all. This is what they were good at. This was the whole point of everything that they were right? Not to make things complicated but just to fuck and to let themselves release everything out into the bedroom. And that’s exactly what they were going to do tonight. He would make sure of it.

On the other side of the door, she’s standing there in tennis shoes and all silk pajamas. It’s a short and camisole nighty combo that he has every intention of ripping with his bare hands. But it’s cute. She’s cute.

“You went out tonight.” She notes, her eyes raking over him until he’s twitchy and needy.

He nodded. “Yea.”

“Did you hook up with someone?”

Something about the fact that he’s had something to drink just tells him to be honest. He can see her, maybe even more clearly than he was used to, and he had not a single ability in the world to bullshit her anymore. Not tonight.

“No. No I didn’t. There was a girl there who tried, who wanted to come back with me, and I--I thought about it. I did.” He hummed. “But I texted you instead.”

He can tell she wasn’t ready for the honesty. He can see the way her jaw untightens just slightly, the way she relaxed just barely. Who the fuck is either of them kidding?

“Explain to me why I’m here again?” She asked cocking her hip against his door.

She had braids in again. He didn’t know how to tell her that he’d been thanking God for protective styles since she flipped them over her shoulder that one time while she rode him into her desk chair. He was dangerously drunk.

“Stop talking. Come here.”

He cups his palm around the back of his neck and pulls her lips against his. She releases a little half whimper half sigh when he bites her bottom lip and moves his tongue to where she needs him to go. They’re still halfway in his apartment and halfway in the hallway when he pulls her legs up around his waist and presses her into the wall next to his doorway. But she still gives him everything that he needs instantly. Still pushes her hips against his. Still scratches at his scalp like no one ever has. Still had a grip to her thighs that makes his mouth water and his dick hard. When her ass is filling his hands and then some, there’s not a question. That woman from the club wasn’t going to give him this. Wasn’t ever going to be able to make him feel the way that she could. So why fucking lose this?

He slammed the door shut and took her back to his room, body laid out perfectly amongst his sheets. His fingers reach for his belt, and she’s giggling as she kicks her shoes halfway across the room. She’s really beautiful when she smiles. Fuck.

She went to reach for her camisole and he was hopeless but to stop her. His hands locked around her wrists pinning her to the bed. And she peered up at him with those big ass eyes of her, wild and brown and blown with lust. But her skin is soft as a fucking feather. And her cheek bones sit high and prominent and perfect. Her lips are thick and plush and he knows there’s no filler in them because every time she kisses him it’s like heaven. And he’s drunk. He’s so fucking drunk. The problem is that way too much of it is just her, and that never used to be reason enough

He kisses her. But it’s not like it was at the doorway. It’s not like the first night they spent together, or any of the other kisses after that. It’s soft. It’s slow and methodical and searching. Her eyes flutter close and she parts her lips and this time her tongue is leading the charge. But he doesn’t stop her. Would never want to stop her from kissing him like this. His hands go lax on her wrists and she reaches to pull him closer instead. They fall flat on the bed, her body wrapping around his. He loses himself in her kiss, in her touch. She’s just there filling up every space that’s ever existed in his life And he wants her. God does he want her.

“Shawn.” She mumbled against his mouth.

“Shhh. Let me touch you.” He begged.

Her eyes softened and she nodded allowing him to rip that pretty camisole he’d been thinking about since he opened the door. That’s as rough as it gets. When he’s met with the soft skin of her breasts he can’t do anything but be tender. He roles her nipples between his thumbs, licks along the valley of her sternum, and her moans are incredible. He’s stuck on her. And the one way to work through that, the only way to not fall consumed by her, is to touch and lick and kiss. And she lets him. Lets him and lets him and lets him.

“Touch me.” She gasps.

And so he touches.

***

The sun streams through his curtains, and it’s the second thing that wakes him up that morning. The first is the warm body pressed against his chest. When she wakes up in the morning she stretches her whole body, but it all originates from her spine. It makes her look a little bit like a fish out of water, or a mermaid. But he kind of likes it. This time her stretch sends her deeper into his arms, and he’s totally okay with that. Her eyes open and they stare at each other. It’s silent. Just the two of them. After that.

“Hi.” She whispered snuggling a little deeper into his pillow.

He licked his bottom lip, voice tired from lack of use. “Hi.”

“Do we....Do we talk about what that was?”

“Really? This early and you already wanna talk?” He smirked.

“It’s in my blood. Don’t make fun of me.”

She flicks his bicep and it’s the most ridiculous thing he could ever imagine. It’s too early to deal with her ridiculousness.

“I’m hungry.” He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

“Well get to cookin. The movie where the black woman serves the white man is a straight to dvd feature, and I am only interested in box office hits.”

“Well that sounds lovely, however I meant much more of the, ‘you riding my face until you cum’ type hunger. Or is that not high enough at the box office for you?”

“Hmm...well we certainly can try!”

He can’t help but laugh as she settles her thighs over either side of his head. Her thighs are things of miracles and he’s just a bit obsessed with them, just a bit obsessed with her. His hands settled on her hips and he can’t help but look up at the way the sun hits her chest and face. She’s beautiful.

His tongue traces languidly at her heat. He’s not interested in driving her up a wall this early in the morning. Just wants to fuck her through the fog of their wake up. So, he licks deep into her. He lets his tongue dip inside and then runs the flat of it against against the entire length of her pussy. Her clit is already erect and at attention. He settles his hands onto her knees and rubs at her thighs. She plays with his hair and grinds slowly against his tongue as they work her towards her release.

“Fucking shit, Shawn,” She whined. “That’s so good.”

He tilts his chin up and follows her shaking hips, his lips attached to her clit. He just wants to devour her.

“Baby I--I’m gonna cum!”

She’s never called him baby before. Not once. And it sparks a reaction that neither of them could have seen coming. He flips her over onto her back--thank god for neck and back day--and chases her pussy like it’s the last coke in the desert. It might very well be.

“Oh--Yes! Yes!”

The knock on the door can’t come at a worse fucking time.

He pulled back and wiped at his mouth eyes still completely zoned in on what’s happening between her legs.

“NOT FUCKING NOW BRIAN!”

Her fingers dig into his hair and pull him back between her thighs. It’s hotter than he could imagine.

“Bro I just need to borrow your jeep for like thirty--an hour--two hours tops !”

He pulled away from her with a slurp. “You touch that fucking jeep and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do!”

“Melanie has to get to a study group for her philosophy class!”

“Who the entire FUCK is Melanie?!”

Her fingers are in his hair again. She leans up to nuzzle his throat with her perfect lips and take his ear lobe between her teeth.

“Can we please? You got on a private jet to visit me in Miami. I think a jeep is the least of your concerns.”

He whined and nuzzled back against her softly. “I love that car.”

“Maybe work on loving this pussy a little more?”

Well that was certainly doable.

“Yea, okay.”

*five minutes later*

“Okay! Well uh...I’m just gonna take the jeep. I’ll bring it back, bro promise!”

He pulled back one more time. “Get the hell out of here, Brian!”

“Jesus Brian! GO!” She yelled in unison.

….

“Tough crowd!”

***

“Shawn, I’ve got to go!” She giggled.

He was much more interested in kissing his way along her neck and collarbones.

“Mmmm. No.”

“I have a brunch with a very important client, and thanks to you I’m going back to my house in a dumb man shirt.”

He snorted and ran his tongue along the length of the collar.

“This is saint laurent.”

“This is me leaving!” She insisted tugging out of his grasp.

He followed her to the door, the length of her braids only bringing more attention to the way her ass swayed in those shorts. Jesus.

“Can I ask you something? Before you go?”

She paused at the door and turned to him, letting her back rest against the wall.

“Sure.”

“You felt it last night, right? I’m not crazy, am I?”

She bit her lip, and shook her head softly. “No, you’re not crazy. I felt it.”

“And it means something, right? It is something?”

It takes a little longer to get a response out of her. But slowly but surely she nods at that too.

“Yea. I think it is.”

He took a deep breath trying to discern for himself whether he was about to fuck everything up. When his fingers mold to the apple of her cheek and she peers up at him with these big, soft eyes he knows there was never any choice for him. He’d been kidding himself since the beginning. This time when they kiss neither of them are holding back.He lets himself be gentle. He holds her against his chest and he doesn’t think at all about the consequences, or what it might look like. He just wants to kiss her silly. He does. She does the same for him.

He pulled back to check for fear of hesitance in her eyes. There is none. How is there none? And so he just...goes for it.

“I like you.” He admitted softly. “Like a lot.”

She ran her thumb along his lip, tugging at it until it smacked back into place.

“I like you too. A lot.”

Her eyes are warm and soft even now. She’s so inviting and she just seems to pull the truth out of him with ease. He just wants to be honest with her. Even when it’s scary. Even when it doesn’t make sense.

“Well uh...I’m not gonna lie I don’t really know what it is you see in me. I--I know what I am. And I know what I can offer. For some girls it’s enough, but for you...I don’t know that it could be.”

“You don’t need to talk down to yourself to get me to like you Shawn.” She murmured.

He snorted. “I know that. I’m just saying what we both know. I know I can be an asshole, and a cocky asshole at that. But I can’t even think of touching a woman who isn’t you. I’ve never had that happen before. Not in my whole life. I guess I just--fuck. Will you go out with me? Like to dinner? As human beings that don’t just make each other cum.”

“Dinner hmmm?” She hummed.

“Yea, dinner.”

“You really want to be seen with me in public? What would your dad think?”

“I don’t...I don’t care what my dad thinks. I want to take you to dinner. Do you want to go with me?”

The pause she takes is long enough to kill him. For sure it is.

“I...Yea. I do.”

It brings a smile to his face against his better judgement. He didn't usually do smiles. Really got in the way of his image. A look of smug indifference was his go to. But this woman was quickly ruining everything he ever thought that he knew.

She lets him kiss her against the door. Let’s him hold her face in his hands. It feels good. Feels right.

“Hey, if we go on a date it’s not gonna stop you from domming me is it?”

He laughed. “Of course not.”

“Okay. You can kiss me again.”

“Thank you.”

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

The Last Dragon

At five in the morning in the early spring night, the world was still steeped in deep darkness. The few stars that were visible through Chicago’s light pollution shined in the clear velvet sky. The winds coming off the lake Erie were fierce and screamed and thundered in between the buildings, rattling the bare branches of the tall trees.

All the buildings on the campus were dark save the Gear Department equipment warehouse. The large garage door was open and shining bright like an illuminated cave.

Brian strode inside. The wind tugged at his scarf, whipping it horizontal from his neck. The lifted garage door shook in its tracks as he passed under it.

The cold winter nights gave way to warmth in the well-heated expansive space. Mr. Baldwin stood, his coat draped over his arm, looking up at what seemed to be a half built elongated fighter jet. Its wings were short and it was tilted up vertically like a rocket. Technicians in white coats were looking up at it and checking their clipboards, others were bent over computer screens, pointing at them.

Brian yawned. “Is this what we’re training in? Doesn’t look very airworthy…”

“You know the gear department. They’ll have it ‘airworthy’ within the week. So yes, training starts now. I appreciate that you’ve finally chosen to wear your uniform.” The stoic head of the Executive Department looked him up and down. His dark brown hair was well combed and expertly clipped and he was still in his professional suit even this early. Brian wondered if the man was just a vampire who never slept at night.

“Of course. This is serious. It’s not like I’m herding college students to class any more.” The official executive department uniform took after that of the Royal Navy. A light blue button down shirt, black tie, and belted black slacks. On his chest was the crest of the half-wilted Yggdrasil of Cassell College.

Mr. Baldwin tilted his head slightly. “Are you saying the work was beneath you?”

“No, sir.” Brian replied. “The work was beneath the uniform.”

That coaxed a smile out of him. “The vessel needed reinforcing. We sent out a scout plane to the coordinates and found an area of disturbed weather. It appears that this atmospheric anomaly will continue to intensify in the coming days.” Mr. Baldwin folded his arms, eyes fixed on the rocket-like plane.

“Can’t we just wait it out?” Brian asked.

Mr. Baldwin huffed and lowered his eyes. “I said the same thing. But the Vice Chancellor insisted that we reinforce the ship. Something that could withstand the winds of something far beyond the eyewall of a category 5 hurricane.”

Brian’s eyes widened slightly. “Is there such a material?”

“Not naturally. We’ve resorted to alchemy.”

Brian gave a low appreciative whistle. “So he thinks we’ll encounter something like that?”

Mr. Baldwin took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I should say this. I trust you’re level-headed enough to handle this information. Every time I brought out some observation from the field, the Vice Chancellor would insist on preparing for something ten times that.”

Brian nodded and an uneasy silence fell between them.

More students walked in, at least two dozen of them. They were a rowdy bunch happily chattering and openly admiring the towering air vessel. The sight of it filled them with excitement. Mr. Baldwin smiled. He wasn’t old enough to remember the day when the Execution Department of Cassell was nearly obliterated in Tibet. He knew about it because it was his business to know about it.

They’d just now gotten their feet under them and here they were, back into the fray. Only Brian seemed to have a clue about the danger they were in. He wasn’t sure how, but it was nice to have at least one student here he could share the truth with.

Brian kept his knowledge to himself, joining the group and quietly fist bumping his colleagues. He stood among them as they lined up in front.

Mr. Baldwin cleared his throat. “This week we received a missive from the Chancellor and we held a meeting. We have what we believe in the first sign of the Lord of Sky and Wind that we’ve seen since the first fall of the Four Lords, a first generation awakening that will be the last one.”

The students roared with applause and Mr. Baldwin let them have it. “Naturally your classes are canceled until further notice. You’ll report here every day for your aerospace training.”

“Hey is the S-Ranker not coming?” The question came from the back, from Shimoda Masato, an exchange student from the Japan branch. Brian wasn’t very familiar to him other than the fact that he had a habit of speaking up sharply and stating the obvious that others were too deferential to bring up. At time that made him an asset, at times that made him a thorn in everyone’s side.

But Masato never wilted under the gaze of the crowd or his superiors when he felt he had a valid point. HIs eyes stared straight at Mr. Baldwin.

“The students were handpicked by the Vice Chancellor and I.”

“So she’s S-ranked, but not good enough for this mission?”

“Student assessments are classified.” Baldwin turned away to wave over the technicians who were bringing over the flight suits.

Brian tried to avoid eye contact with the student next to him who was glancing over. But he dug his elbow in his side and whispered. “Hey, you’re kinda close to Ru’Yi, is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Brian grumbled.

“Then why isn’t she here?”

“I trust the decision of the Execs.”

“Is it ‘cause she’s unstable?”

Brian felt his hackles rise and he pinned his fellow student with a sharp glare.

“I… I mean like mentally… She seems kinda… erratic.”

Brian refused to respond to that, he placed his hands behind his back and stared straight forward, clasping his hands tightly.

“I mean, you would know right? Aren’t you two…?”

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Mr. Baldwin stared at the other student, cowing him into silence.

Brian suppressed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll have Engineer Robinson explain the details.”

A svelte young woman approached with long ebony hair. “These flight suits are custom manufactured for this mission. The interior lining is made your typical cut proof fabric, but we also have an exterior lining for warmth at high altitudes. IT is not cut proof but is made from a special self healing fabric.” She pulled out a sharp knife and demonstrated on a piece of cloth, cutting it easily in two, then she pressed the edges together and the cut was healed, just as if someone were sticking together two pieces of clay.

“We’ll also be outfitting you with flight helmets, oxygen supplies, emergency oxygen supplies and parachutes, flares and locating beacons in case of emergencies. You will be trained in the use of all of the functions of this suit”

The students started murmuring to themselves. Mr. Baldwin cast his eyes on all of them. While some still maintained the eager enthusiasm, the smiles were gone from others.

Finally one raised his voice: “Are we going to be fighting this dragon in mid-air?”

-------------

Tom dug his claws into the spiny bark of the coconut tree. The hot afternoon sun burned into his back and he squinted into the light of the sun. Just a few more feet and he would arrive at the succulent green fruit at the very top. Far below, Mr. Lu waited for him.

This island was so flat, that this high up on the tree, he had a complete panoramic view of the entire island shore. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight. Bright blue waves under a bright blue sky, with puffy clouds here and there. A ring of golden sand, dark volcanic rock and patches of green tropical plantlife.

A sudden gust of wind made him dig his claws. The wing extensions coming out of his hands were like kites. If they opened just a little bit, he would pull the rocking trunk even further. He pressed himself to the wood and closed his eyes until the wind let up.

“Hey! We don’t have all day!” Mr. Lu shouted at him from far below.

This whole exercise was his idea. They’d been walking and looking for shells when Tom mentioned that he never knew that coconut palms could grow so tall. In fact, these were massive spires swaying a hundred feet overhead.

He focused on his surroundings, a sea of emerald green palm fronds and a cluster of light brown and green coconuts.

He gripped with his toe claws and carefully pulled one hand from the tree to retrieve his machete. He lifted it up started to hack at the connection between the coconut at the trunk. “Look out below!” He shouted.

The coconut dislodged and fell.

Tom made the mistake of looking down. He couldn’t even see the coconut hit the ground. The earth seemed to rush away from him in a swirling vertigo. He pressed his cheek against the trunk again.

“I got it!” Came Mr. Lu’s voice.

“Great…” Tom squeaked.

He reached up and started to hack at the coconuts again, shouting a warning each time one fell to the ground.

On his fifth coconut Something fell. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Each strike sent dead brown leaves and other woody debris onto his head.

But this had a decidedly different weight and as soon as it landed, it moved, pressing little feet on the back of his neck, over his shoulder and his chest. Tom frantically batted at this red colored hairy tarantula about 3 inches long.

“Get off me! Get off me!” Tom’s world suddenly tilted. The wind pushed at him, rushing into the space between his body and the tree trunk and catching the leathery wing folds under his arms. They billowed out like sails and pulled hard. The tree bent forward as Tom clung to it. His claws scored the bark in a desperate bid to stay on the tree, but the wind suddenly gusted and he was torn from it. The tree then snapped away from his searching fingers.

Eyes wide and world spinning, Tom plummeted. Instinctively, he reached for the ground to catch himself, but when he did so his arms were yanked back upwards with a terrible jerk and the ground fled away.

Panting with terror, he looked around as the trees were below him. At that moment, the steady tropical breeze was sending him in a steady rise into the sky. His wings were supporting him and he was scared to move them. If he folded them he would fall. But he kept rising.

“Help! Help!” The wind was sending him out over the island towards the ocean. Tom despaired wondering if he was doomed to soar out forever into the sea.

He’d looked at his wings before and wondered if he could fly. But he was too nervous to even try it. He assumed they wouldn’t work that way. Didn’t someone say that humans couldn’t fly? How was it that now that he was in the air, he didn’t know how to get down? How does one stop flying? The wind bounced him up and down in the shifting current, maintaining the lift of his arms. But as he got out to sea that lift started to diminish.

“Um… Um…”

“Lift your legs behind you.”

“What?!”

“Keep your gaze forward! Don’t look back!” Mr. Lu’s voice was commanding and slightly mocking.

“I can’t stop! I can’t…”

“You’re going to end up in the water, if you don’t do what I say. Lift your legs.”

Tom whimpered and did as he was instructed. The drag created by his legs vanished the moment he lifted him and he started to rise again. The water started to distance itself. He saw his own shadow, two wings and a long body, just like a dragon. And right behind his shadow, he saw another, far bigger shadow with wings that dwarfed his own.

Mr. Lu had wings? Since when?

“Now, can you see the shore? Look with your eyes.”

Just out of the corner of his vision the dark line of shoreline was still visible.

“Yeah…”

“Turn your head slightly in that direction. Your head is your rudder, you’ll go where you look.”

Tom turned his head to the shore and sure enough, he started to turn in a wide arc. His heartrate slowed as safety and security in the air grew. He wasn’t even moving his arms and yet the wind seemed to want to pick him up to carry him. He couldn’t fall if he wanted to.

He looked down again. The massive shadow was gone. He lowered his legs slowly and felt himself slow and start to descend looking for a soft patch of sand to land on.

The land grew closer and closer. He could feel himself shaking. His feet hit the ground, sending up a shower of sand in front of him and he fell to his knees and leaned on his hands, gasping. He swallowed hard and his mouth felt like sandpaper.

He did it. He actually flew. The reality dawned on him and he couldn’t help but smile a little and laugh. “Well… That happened.”

He flopped into the sand, not caring that it was going to stick to him and he would have to shower later. It was warm and soft and firm and let him rest while the thought of flying sank into his mind. It felt good.

“So. Still want to go back to being human?”

Tom scrambled to sit up. Mr. Lu was standing there, sipping from an open coconut.

“Is that what this is all about?”

“This’ as in ‘this just now’? Or ’This whole island’? Regardless, the answer to both of those questions is yes.”

“You made me climb trees all day just so I could fall off?”

Lu Mingfei just sipped his coconut milk and smiled.

“Where did your wings go?”

“What wings?”

“You were flying with me! Don’t play dumb!” Tom snapped.

Mr. Lu stared at him. “Answer my question first. Do you want to go back to being human?”

“I can’t go back… it doesn’t matter.” Tom looked at his hands. “I… won’t be able to play guitar like this. Flying is nice. It felt good for a bit. But you know… if anyone else saw me, they would probably try to shoot me.”

“I know. And the way you are now? You’d let them.”

Tom raised his eyes to look. Mingfei was staring at him, all amusement gone. Tom’s shoulders sagged. He shook his head. What was he supposed to feel. He raised his hand to look at his wings. Flying felt scary and exhilarating.

“You’re very important Tom. You just don’t realize it yet.” Lu Mingfei joined him on the sand, offering him the coconut.

“Can I tell you a story? You’re Japanese… right?” He squinted. “Well, never mind. Do you know what the Sengoku Jidai is?”

“Yes. It was the Japanese civil wars.”

“Exactly. They spent years and years in some of the most fierce and bloody battles in history. Thousands of people died. Weapons technology and battle tactics took a great leap forward.”

“By the time the flames died down, you had an entire society built on war. People were soldiers through and through. But now they couldn’t fight each other. So you know what they did?”

“Um… They attacked Korea.”

“Exactly. They didn’t just stop fighting when the Sengoku era came to a close. They just changed their enemies. So Tom, what do you think will happen to Cassell College once the last dragon falls?”

“The same thing? They’ll change their enemies?” Tom’s eyes widened slightly.

“Anjou was never truly concerned about that. Oh sure, he never tolerated Hybrid society’s constant drive for power in his own presence. He was single minded in his destruction of the four lords and the revenge of his friends. But he knew that once the last dragon was dead, Hybrids wouldn’t be content to live in human society. They already occupy the highest levels of wealth and power in many regions.”

“So what did he do?”

Lu Mingfei grinned at him. “Project Nibelungen. Designed byProfessor Franco. It fused advanced biotechnology and alchemical arts. Then it uses a serum refined from dragonblood to enhance a Hybrid’s potency. It allows them to transcend blood thresholds while maintaining consciousness.”

“I was the first one it was used on.”

Tom’s slack jawed stare made him chuckle. “Surprised? Yes, I was an unwitting guinea pig for his project. As well as… other projects. But it was an arms race, both against dragons and against other Hybrids. I wasn’t the only one seeking this same ability. I’m not the only one who has it.”

“Carli has taken a route taken by others. Getting the consent of the desperate and the dying, to complete what Anjou started… her motives are compassionate… and a bit naive. I want to tell you the truth though.”

He stood up and brushed himself off. “War is coming to Cassell.” He offered his hand and Tom took it.

“Am I going to have to fight?” Tom asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to avoid. Or at least put off. I can’t give you too many details. Things are still in motion. But we’ve made progress!” He gave him a slap on the back. “I’m in the mood for some… pina coladas…”

#Class of 2032 #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction

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