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saltygilmores · 1 year

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls-Season 2, Episode 1 ("Sadie Sadie")

Full steam ahead! We have now arrived at Season 2, the Jess Season. It's gonna be an absolute fucking nightmare that I am not looking forward to. Enjoy! Please visit the Denise Rewatches Gilmore Girls tag for all of my past reviews!

Thanks to MaxMedina, SH is absolutely infested with daisies. People are stepping on daisies. They're shaking daisies out of their pants. There's daisies in the food. I am praying Dean Forrester is allergic to daisies and becomes absolutely debilitated with hay fever. Michel is most likely still complaining about how daisies are weeds and is even more insufferable to work with than usual.

I'm pretty sure some kind of daisy-cult has sprouted up in the aftermath of MaxMedina's pre-proposal manipulation tactic.

Peep this guy with a TJ Maxx bag, lol. Someone escaped The Hollow/Daisy Cult and visited the outside world! Good for you, guy.

You gotta respect the hustle of this dude in the background, living in a town where yellow daisies are so free and plentiful they're growing freely out of people's buttcracks, to set up a cart to try and SELL them. Some Stars Hollowans are not so bright. You can see it looks like someone is actually buying them. "A Stars Hollowan and their money are soon parted". -Famous Quote.

God I fucking love shows from the early 2000's. Lane referring to her "parents" sending her to Korea, instead of just her mother.

Just want to take a moment to check out all these vintage magazine covers. Lorelai pays Bootsy for her magazine (he doesn't look up from his paper to see how much she gave him, but still) but she can't pay Luke for her food.

That's a lot of bridal magazines for a town where Lorelai is probably the only person who is currently semi-engaged. Rory buys a bridal mag for Lorelai for $6. That seems like a pretty outrageous price for a magazine in 2001. Bootsy must be in cahoots with the guy selling daisies. We learn that Lorelai has not yet accepted Max's proposal.

The DaisyCult members are gathering.

Not to sound like a broken record but but doesn't anyone in Stars Hollow have a job? How does their economy not collapse? Does the town survive on tourism, outsiders buying snowglobes and keychains? Because clearly the people who actually live here are bored and desperate for stimulation. Rory Gilmore needs to get a job. Okay, where was I... Lorelai: Everything about me turns Luke off. My coffee, my eating habits. I called him Ranger Bob last week! Kinky.

These people crushed up against the door blocking the exit are a real fire hazard.

LORELAI HE'S USING A CAN OF SUPERMARKET COFFEE RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN. HE HAS NO FUCKING SHAME! YOU'RE LOOKING AT IT! THIS IS LUKE'S SUPER SPECIAL SECRET BLEND THAT YOU GO INTO WITHDRAWLS OVER! Your whole life is a lie! Do you have nothing to say?!

A can of Hills Brothers coffee is currently $8.48 at Walmart. Eventually he upgrades to Folgers. Luke: "Fresh" (lol) coffee will be ready in a minute unless you want to roll up a dollar bill and go nuts. Cocaine joke! Whee! Luke:This whole town should be medicated and put in a rec room with ping pong tables and hand puppets. Lorelai tells Luke that Max proposed and he responds with his maximum level of Luke Enthusiasm: "Eh, I figured."

Tomatos Sign: spotted. Luke absolutely fries Lorelai's brain by getting her to admit she's about to accept this bozo MaxMedina's proposal without them having discussed very important pre-marriage things...like where they're going to live. Honestly, Lorelai. Luke seems like the sensible one now, but in A Year In The Life, it seems as if Luke & Lorelai are discussing having children together for the first time after they've known each other for over 20 years. But we don't count A Year In The Life. It never happened. Never heard of it. Lorelai retruns to her seat and asks Rory what happened. Kirk has passed out. Everyone outside is just staring at Kirk laying on the the ground and no one is helping him or calling for help.

This shot puzzles me, because (unless someone wants to fill me in on something I missed?) I don't understand the context of this ring and why we're seeing an extended closeup of it and her fidgeting with it until she took it off. Nothing was mentioned about Max buying her a ring yet (besides a Ring Pop), but with the level of discomfort she's exhibiting by looking at her hand and then pulling it off her finger, I will assume it came from him? Is it just her own personal ring but she's imagining there's an engagement ring on her hand instead? Maybe that's it. Okay. Look. I fucking loved butterflies growing up. For a good 10 year span, I needed everything I owned to have butterflies on them. I dreamed one of one day having a butterfly themed wedding and yes even a butterfly ring. But that ring looks like it came out of a gumball machine at Walmart (next to the aisle with the Hills Brothers coffee). Probably the same gumball machine where Dean found Rory's "medallion". Surely he can afford something a little better on his fat Private School English Teacher paycheck.

You can afford all those books, now go to a real jewelry store. After Luke fries her brain, Lorelai ends up calling MaxMedina in a panic in the middle of a Friday Night Dinner to ask him these reasonable and important pre-marriage questions. His response only serves to manipulate/ confuse her further by saying "You'd only be asking me these things if you were going to say yes to my proposal." And by her giddy reaction mere moments later, we know she apparenly accepted...a proposal over the phone. And by the brief period of time between the conversation taking place and her freaking out, we are to assume the questions she called him to ask were either never answered or discussed for about 1 minute. Good luck you two. Later, Max calls the GillyGirls household and Rory picks up while Lorelai is standing next to her. Max confides in Rory that he's ring shopping and he asks for her advice on Lorelai's tastes in jewelry. He's shopping for a real ring. Oh thank god.

Look Rory, you know Max has a history of taking suggestions way too literally, as the Yellow Daisy Lung epidemic sweeps through Stars Hollow. You need to make it clear that you're kidding. This is 2001, so instead of texting pictures of the rings, he has to literally describe them. "The first one has a gold band and sort of a square diamond." How quaint. Email with pictures did exist in 2001, Max, but I suppose he realizes that The Hollow is severely behind the times technology wise and that an email would take at least another 5 years to reach them.

SHUDDER. He's back and with an even stupider haircut. Are we recovered from that last horrible kiss? Because whatever time off Jared Padalecki had between filming the last episode of the 1st season and the 1st episode of the second, he did not spend practicing kissing on his pillow/ blowup doll. Get that eye bleach out again, if you have any left. Of course Dean asks "where's your Mom?" The real love of his life.

You got this JarPad...you can do it...just kiss her without making a face like you're licking a block of salt...

Swingandamiss. Dean Garbageface: I missed that. Rory: Yeah me too. I doubt it.

I honestly don't know how so many people who watch this show are oblivious to the DALA (Dean and Lorelai affair) Dean: Long pause to process his girlfriend's mother coming onto him. "Uh. You need me to change your water bottle don't you?" She needs you to "change her water bottle" just like Luke was "fixing her porch rail." Rory steps outside to find Dean cranking on Lorelai's water bottle. He's probably dreaming of that special time in every teenage boy's life when their girlfriend's mother gives them a handjob. Lord knows Rory never gave him one while they were dating (also the reason Jess was constantly cranky).

Rory asks Dean to come to Friday Night dinner, and Dean hesitates. What's the ultimatium going to be this time? Say whaaaat? He agrees to go (after Rory assures him her grandmother is no longer mad at him for falling asleep with her at the dance)? No complaints? No ultimatium? No pouting? I'm stunned. Lorelai calls Dean back into the house to help her reach a can on a high shelf presumably so she can look at his butt while he's doing it.

Look at this doof in his doofy necklace. Dean: I'm just gonna sit here and stare at my hands. Good boy. Glad you know your place. If anyone needs me, I'm going to be over here delighting in how much Richard dislikes Dean. Flat out ignores the doofus when he tries to shake his hand LOL

I thought you were just going to sit there and silently stare at your hands. Sit back down. Lorelai: I can't believe you found a recipe for Beef-A-Roni. Emily: Let's just say it's not beef. Ah, humans. The Gilmores are serving human meat. Probably one of their former maids. Got it.

Me glaring at Dean every time he moves or talks or blinks or breathes or exists. Lorelai: Uh, I bet there's a fabulous dessert waiting in the kitchen. Emily: Yes, Twinkies. I know how much Rory loves Twinkies. Twinkies filled with...human meat? Richard: So, Dean, where are you going to college? Dean: It's called Sleep with Your Daughter University. If ya'll hate me right now I understand. I do. Emlly: Please, Richard, don't grill the boy. If only someone would literally put him on a grill. Sigh....I am pulling one of my infrequent Dean Cards here. Dean was....not bad in this episode. Sure, his mere existence makes my blood curdle, but he didn't DO anything. He didn't complain or give Rory an ultimatium to attend the dinner, he went willingly, was visibly uncomfortable but tried his best and got rewarded with Rory's grandfather death-staring and grilling him the entire night for no reason whatsoever, and when it was over he didn't even transfer his frustration onto poor Rory like he usually does and make her feel like it was her fault.

She's making it sound like he's Prince Charming making an appearance at the ball (ooof, I almost forgot about the fucking Debutante Ball that's on the horizon) when in reality he is a 17 year old dork in a puka-shell necklace who gets C's in math and whose only marketable skills are bagging groceries and making necklaces out of old quarters. The DALA affair chugs along. Lorelai assures Rory that the only reason she thinks Richard was hostile to Dean is because RIchard thinks Dean will get her pregnant and she'll drop out of school like Lorelai. And somehow he managed to be half right on both accounts. Rory:"I'm not going to get pregnant." Lorelai (When It's Dean): I know that. (how exactly does she know that though?) Lorelai: (When it's Jess): He's not allowed to drive up to the house while I'm not here because he'll get you pregnant if he so much as steps into the living room (this was the actual basis of the episode "Swan Song") Sookie calls Emily to tell her she's planning Lorelai's weddng and of course Emily had no idea. Emily demands Richard apologize to Rory because Lorelai just excluded them from her wedding, and in the future Emily doesn't want Rory to hate them and exclude them from her wedding (a wedding which of course she never has, at least not while Richard was still alive). In a very rare display, mysterious salty drops (tears) almost begin to form at the corner of Emily's eyes. Lorelai and Max are sitting on the porch talking and he pulls a ring out of frigging nowhere. It's not in a box or anything. it's not even in his pocket. He just opens his hand, and it's there. It's too big for Lorelai's finger because the gumball machine just spit out the little plastic egg and he had to take whatever he got for his quarter (just kidding, he actually just wasted a buttload of money on a real ring when Lorelai is going to get cold feet in a few weeks and call off the entire engagement) but anyway he wants to take it off to get it resized. "Just let me get it sized and you'll never have to take it off again." Maxmillian, you sweet naive summer child.

Let's end this mild trainwreck of an episode on a funny note.

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #sadie sadie #richard gilmore #emily gilmore #anti dean forrester #luke danes #lane kim #Dean and Lorelai Affair #open your eyes people #folgers

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lyraeon · 1 year

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how did you end up making captions, for hc recap and/or in general? it's something i've wanted to do for a while but am not entirely sure how or where to start

Honestly, I just use YouTube's built in subtitle editor. It doesn't have a *ton* of functionality but it's fairly intuitive (shift+space to start/stop, shit+arrows to go back and forward by 5 seconds) and fast.

I start with the "edit as text" function and transcribe it there, then do a second pass where I break up lines that have obvious pauses (like if the last three words of a sentence are said after a pause for emphasis).

Then I wait for like 20 minutes for YouTube to auto-sync the captions, which it does an ok job of but not perfect. I usually have to spend another ~2x the vid length tweaking the timings on them but it's still faster than trying to break it up myself.

There's software out there that lets you do more advanced things like adding colors, but I'm still learning those. I did some captioning for a college video course back in like 2010 (temp agencies hand you the wildest jobs) so I've used official like, for TV closed captioning software before, and it's pretty straightforward except that it usually does the words as they appear instead of line by line. Any of those can be used and just uploaded right to youtube.

I'd suggest picking a short video of a couple minutes, maybe a twitch clip or something, as a practice to try out the software.

....

I just realized you probably meant "how did I wind up doing it" not literally how do I do it, whoops.

I'd had the prior experience doing it that I described above and I was looking for some freelance work to help pad the whole "leap of faith'd into being a full time creator so I didn't have to go back to work during the pandemic" thing; mostly I was doing copyediting but I did a little transcribing too. Zloy already had me checking each Recap ep for errors before it went out just cuz we're friends, and I was helping out with tags/descriptions for him and a couple others, so he decided that just officially hiring me to do the captions would be a win-win for us since he'd get captions and a dedicated paperwork person for the channel and I'd get my bills paid.

In general it's a job I enjoy cuz I'm a fast typer anyway and I'm the kind of person who really can only listen to one thing at a time, so I can't multitask during videos anyway. Ironically I don't do it much for my own vids cuz I get tired of trying to caption my friends, since it feels like it takes some fun out of it listening to the same line 30 times, even though I consider that exact sort of thing fun for the Recap and others' videos. (I think I just don't process my friends' words as words anymore, I'm so used to them talking that it gets auto-processed by my brain.)

Oh also I used to be like, hyper-particular about spelling and grammar, and helped grade papers in college and such as a result, so the accuracy necessary to make sure stuff's legible for ESL peeps and for the language to auto-translate where possible is pretty natural to me too. Obviously I'm not as much of a stickler in my everyday speech anymore, but as a writer it's still all very instinctive?

tldr I LIKE TYPING but I can't do it fast enough to be a court reporter so fuck it, write down the words that the minecraft people say so that all may enjoy the puns.

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bucksfucks · 3 years

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messing with a gemini | chris evans

gif credit.

SUMMARY || chris is a gemini, so you should expect nothing less than snide remarks, witty charm, and mind-blowing sex.

PAIRING || chris evans x reader

WORD COUNT || 1,902 words

WARNINGS || banter, teasing, cocky!chris, definite praise kink, light choking kink, chris goes down on the reader, fingering, oral, drinking, unprotected sex, both smutty, soft, and teasing — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

NOTES || mmmmgmmgmgmgmgmg yeah

The sound of the door shutting can only mean one thing.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you greet him, not turning around to face him.

“Sweetheart if you don’t learn to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, I’ll do it for you.”

Another snide remark, another sly smirk, and another roll of your eyes as Chris slides past you with a cup of tea in his hands.

“You couldn’t make me if you tried.” You spat back, narrowing your eyes at him as you watched him quirk an eyebrow; intrigued at your comment.

“Is that a challenge? Because you know I never back down from you.” He replies cooly, folding his arms over his chest before taking a sip of his hot drink.

“Ah yes, how could I forget,” you feign enthusiasm, “you’re a Gemini.” You deadpan and now it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

He kicks his foot off the wall behind him, “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.” He winks, brushing past your shoulder as you scoff.

He’s gonna out of your sight before you have the chance to say anything else, letting out an exasperated sigh as you will yourself to calm down.

“Hey!” Someone shouts through the trailer door, “can you run down to makeup for backup?” You don’t get to answer.

“Thanks!”

Before whoever it was slammed the door shut and you let out another frustrated groan.

You knew what you signed up for, you weren’t head of makeup. You weren’t even assistant head. No, you were one of the nobodies.

Someone they hire to run from one end of set to the other only to get yelled at for not having enough brushes or the right shade of a palette.

It was almost poetic.

“Hey, I’m here, what did you guys need?” You ask as you put on a fake smile and enter the makeup trailer.

The trailer where Chris is sat getting his hair done.

Your blood boiled, wasn’t he supposed to be a charmer? A sweetheart? Maybe he was just really getting into character?

“Can you sweep the floor and make sure there’s no more hair?”

You had to physically fight the urge to drop your face, “sure!”

You grabbed the broom, feeling embarrassed as you quietly sunk into the background as you felt Chris’ eyes on you.

A few medial, mind numbing tasks later and it was closing in on 2am. Your notification-less phone screen lit up the empty trailer you were left to clean up.

Not that you really minded.

You find solace in the only time of the day where things seem to slow down. You also didn’t hate being alone where you could listen to music and clean hairbrushes.

“So this is what you do after we cut.” The sound of Chris’ laugh startles you as you let out a soft yelp.

He has a soft smile on his face, almost unrecognizable without his beard.

“I thought I was alone,” you reply meekly, turning the volume lower on your phone as Chris shook his head.

“Oh, I know,” he laughs, “I don’t think anyone would be belting out Queen like that if they didn’t think they were alone.”

Once again, you feel embarrassed in front of him, shaking your head.

“Whatever,” you try to brush it off. “Did you need something?” You ask as he shakes his head.

“I was just checkin’ in on you.” He replies and you’re a little taken aback.

“Oh, well thanks, but I’m okay. Just finishing up cleaning.” You said with a tight lipped smile and a nod of your head.

Chris stands there for a second, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks over his shoulder before clearing his throat.

“Well uh, some of the cast and crew are havin’ some drinks and pizza later, if you wanted to tag along.”

The invite makes your stomach drop into your lower belly as you open your mouth.

You have to take a moment to formulate the words.

“It’s getting pretty late, I think I’m just gonna head back to my hotel room. Parties aren’t really my thing.” You joke, lightening the mood as Chris cracks a smile.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. The invites always there,” he says before turning on his heels and leaving you to yourself.

Chris Evans was an enigma that you didn’t think you’d ever crack.

The soft knock at your door caused your neck to snap in its direction, uncrossing your legs as you slid off the too big hotel bed and looked through the peep hole.

It was hard to make out the figure, but it looked like...no, it couldn’t be.

“Chris?” His name slipped through your lips as you opened the door.

He beamed a smile as he held up a case of beer and box of pizza.

“Turns out, parties aren’t my thing either.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you moved aside to let him in.

“And you decided that coming to my room at,” you had to check the time, “3:16 in the morning was the logical thing to do?”

He set everything down on the coffee table before hopping onto your bed, “yup.”

You had to roll your eyes as you laughed, closing and locking the door as you stepped in front of him.

“C’mon kid,” oh, why did that do something to you?

“You work hard every day of the week, you deserve one night to not care about anything.” His words were gentle as he stood up to grab a beer.

“Want one?” He asked, holding a beer up as you replayed his words.

“Sure,” he was right, you do deserve a break.

You both took a seat on the small, uncomfortable couch in the room as you took a sip. Well, it was beer.

“So,” you broke the silence, “the Chris Evans doesn’t like parties?” You quirked an amused eyebrow as he laughed.

“Maybe I wanted to escape to see you, is that so bad?” He said, licking his bottom lip; not breaking eye contact.

You shook your head, “such a fucking Gemini,” you mumble as Chris smirks.

“What did I say about that smart mouth of yours?” He eggs you on, leaning forward and giving your knee a squeeze.

“I don’t remember.” You bite back, feeling your heart kicking in your chest as you feel his breath fanning over your face.

“Maybe I should teach you a lesson or two then, hmm?” He purrs, running his free hand up your neck and resting it there.

“I dare you,” you mumble, transfixed on the feeling of his warm hands on you.

The dominos fall and Chris’ lips are meshed with yours, the faint taste of beer on them as you wrap your fingers in the collar of his shirt.

“You know I never back down from a challenge,” he murmurs against your lips before taking you by the hand and leading you to the bed.

He pushes you onto it, the sheets around you as the weight of Chris’ body pushed you further into it.

“Ah ah,” he tsks when you let out a soft moan, “I thought I told you to keep quiet for me.”

You swallow thickly, throat dry and lips parted as you gasp when you can feel the weight of him between your hips.

“Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl?” He purrs, absolutely knowing what it does to you as you writhe under him.

“Good,” he hums. “Now let’s see how good you are when I’m between your legs makin’ then shake.”

His wink doesn’t go unnoticed by you as your clothes are shed, his coming off until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

There’s little left to the imagination, the outline of his cock clear as he wraps his hands around your ankles and tugs you down to the end of the bed.

You yelp, sliding off the pillows as he sinks to his knees, hungry eyes just waiting to taste you.

“Look at you,” he cooes, “drippin’ at the thought of me between your thighs?” He mocks, cocking his head to side as he keeps your legs open.

Chaste kisses are pressed to your inner thighs, gently as you try to stop the plea’s that are begging to slip past your mouth.

“You’re bein’ so patient for me too, good girl.” He praises, he breath over your core is hot as you grab for his hair.

The feeling of his tongue makes you moan and squeeze your legs around his head.

“Mmm,” he hums, “that good already?”

If he wasn’t buried between your legs you might’ve, just might’ve had the courage to roll your eyes.

His fingers tease your entrance as his mouth works over your clit.

There’s no holding back now.

You don’t care how loud you’re being, giving into the sensation as he works you to the edge, your legs shaking.

“You wanna come, don’t you, pretty girl?” Yes, God, yes.

“Well that’s too bad,” he taunts making you let out a whine.

“Not until I’m buried deep ‘side of you,” he grunts, quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes until he’s crawling back over you with a condom in his hand.

You’re still dizzy, slightly angry from your denied orgasm, but wanting nothing more than to feel him stretching you out.

“You think you’re ready for my cock,” he smirks teasingly as you feel him at your entrance.

You whine, bringing his lips to your but he stops you at the last second.

“Uh uh baby, I wanna hear you beg for it.” He taunts, nose brushing yours.

“Fuck,” you whimper, “please, just fuck me.” You beg, eyes meeting his.

That’s all he needs before he’s slowly sinking into you, watching your face contort in immeasurable pleasure.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, “so tight and warm.”

Your fingers dig into his speckled back, finding your ground as you dig into the soft skin as he thrusts into you.

Suddenly, the only think you can think about is how good this feels.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, bending your one leg at the knee to get a deeper angle.

“Takin’ my cock so goddamn well,” he grunts, “gonna make me come.”

His words send a shiver down your spine as your walls flutter around him. He drops on one of his elbows, getting impossibly close to you.

“You’re gonna come too, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He teases, lips on yours swallowing every moan before you feel a hand around your throat.

“Look at me when you come, baby,” he purrs, applying just the slightest amount of pressure to the column of your throat.

“Wanna see you come for me,” he smirks, his thrusts getting harsher before you feel yourself giving into your orgasm.

Your body shakes as your mouth falls open, his name a breathy moan before you feel his hips stuttering.

He sounds exhausted after he spills inside of you, tumbling on top of you as you’re left in sweaty silence as you’re left with nothing to do but run your fingers through his dampened hair.

“Gemini or not, you’re what made me weak in the knees, sweetheart.” Chris whispers, eyes on yours as you feel a flutter in your heart.

“There’s somethin’ about you that I won’t ever grow tired of, that I’m sure about.”

#chris evans smut #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans headcanons #chris evans headcanon #chris evans oneshot #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfics #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #bucksfucks writes — [♡] ;

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fandom-monium · 3 years

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Alive Together - Day 1

Summary: Welcome to the Monsterpocalypse. You’re a lone wanderer trying to survive. Until you meet Joel Dawson and Boy.

WC: 4k

Tag/Warnings: light themes of death and grief?? Cursing but minimal. Slow burn. Enemies to friends to lovers?

AN: MEET CUTE? NO. MEET UGLY.

(Entry 2#3#)

Hungry. I have nothing else to report today except that I, (Your Name), am starving. Grilled spiders and roasted centipedes are starting to get old.

I've mentioned it before and I'll do it again, but I miss home cooked meals. Even Dad's shoddy attempts at recreating Mom's recipes. The last time I think was… nevermind.

It hurts; I barely remember the last time I had dinner with Dad, much less Mom, flashes of the memories I have left blurring. Probably from the tears. I used to cry at the slightest thought of Mom and then Dad. Now my heart clenches whenever I try because I shouldn't have to try to remember my own family. Believe it or not, it’s progress.

Maybe it's my fault. I hadn't bothered to snag any mementos that reminded me of them before fleeing the bunker, like an album or something. There weren't many personal items that they'd given me, now that I think about it. Too much clutter, the Captain said.

Or maybe it's the lack of consistent stimulus to my brain. I can't read as much as I'd like to, mainly because it's too dangerous to be distracted (constant vigilance is an important virtue in this world, if you hadn’t noticed). Most books that I've stumbled across (literally, I tripped over a hill of hardcovers. Not fun. Very painful) were either tattered or worn beyond comprehension, destroyed by rain or monster attacks.

Speaking of, my stomach grumbled. I need to start hunting before it gets dark... and before I attract another monster to myself. Again.

-(Your Name) (Your Last Name)

Day 1 - First Impressions

You shut the journal as an ominous roar thunders in the distance. Heart in your throat, you’re already on your feet, shoving the book into your pack and gathering the rest of your things. Once you’re certain there’s no trace left of you on the roof, you gaze at the neighborhood below, shielding your eyes as you scan for signs of alerted monsters.

Greenery and ruins go on for miles, unperturbed.

It’s high noon, rays of sunlight seeping through the clouds and warming your exposed skin. A gust of wind brushes your face and hair, and you suppress a smile. It’s not everyday the weather is this nice, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d relish in it.

Good thing you do know better.

You trace your path to the hills. The town is a maze of torn down buildings and overgrowth, winding roads littered with abandoned houses and wrecked vehicles, and, of course, hidden monsters. There’s only a couple hours before nightfall, and you’re far from your destination.

Better start walking. You’ve wasted enough time.

You climb down the side of the dilapidated house, dropping to the ground with a thump. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the start of the apocalypse, it’s that residential areas harbored the most monsters, aside from the cities. Too many alcoves perfect for nesting. It’s safer away from the old world.

Safer, not safe.

You keep to the shadows, avoiding the open whenever you can despite the barren streets, darting between urban remnants. Your heart eventually settles as you scan your surroundings like anything and everything will pounce on you the second you let your guard down. By the time you cross the residential area and asphalt roads bleed into dry fields (from years of neglect, you somberly note), the sun has crept out from behind the clouds and the sky is clear blue.

You find a barn after hours of trudging through shrubs and your sore feet. It looms at the top of the hill leading to a dense forest, tall enough that as you step into its shadow it blocks out the sun. Walking closer, you tense as you scrutinize the place, eyes combing over the immediate vicinity.

Nothing. Nothing moves or breathes. You don’t see or hear a peep. Not from the barn or the woods beyond. It’s completely isolated from the nearby town, a perfect fort.

Or a nest.

You huff; shit like this has happened one too many times and you’d be a fool if you haven’t learnt your lesson by now. You pull out your javelin and approach with caution, leaves and grass crunching under your boots as you take in the chipped paint and boarded up windows, steadily making your way around the decrepit building. You frown at the clear deterioration, unable to spot any visible breaches.

Reaching the front of the barn, you gaze warily at the lone entrance. Tall doors ajar, old boards are still nailed across the slim gap or hanging precariously. As if someone or something pried them off, busted through.

In or out, you can’t tell.

For a moment, you weigh your options. You doubt the place had anything to offer, pillaged long before you stumbled upon it. Hell, there’s probably a monster nesting somewhere inside, or a bunch of monster eggs.

But you need food, supplies, rest. Are you willing to risk your life on the small chance this rickety barn can provide those things?

You stare down the the opening and it stares back, deceptively innocent. But it’s mocking you, you can hear it. Just daring you to walk away.

You shuffle on aching feet, making your clothes rub against your sweaty skin.

As if on cue, your stomach growls.

Groaning, you adjust your grip on the spear before ducking inside.

You let your eyes adjust to the dark interior. Light seeps through the rotted ceiling and cracks from the boarded windows, enough that you don’t need a flashlight to see the place is deserted. You glance around the huge room, javelin ready as you wait with bated breath, ears straining to hear over your pounding heartbeat.

Nothing. You don’t hear anything, except the trees rustling outside. Nothing shifts or darts out of sight. No signs of life, not even eggs (that you can see).

It doesn’t mean you're clear, but it’s a start.

Biting your lip, you take a careful step, and another and another, your eyes sweeping the room as you tread over straw and debris. You pause mid-step when you catch a pulley system attached to the ceiling. It’s dark, but you recognize its outline. Frowning, you trace its small, thin woven ropes as they split in different directions against the ceiling and walls, hitting and crossing the floor until they disappear under a thick layer of hay.

You raise your foot, gently kicking away the straw. You step back.

A net. A decent sized one by the width of the patch of hay.

You sigh, shoulders dropping in relief. If you hadn’t been cautious you’d never have noticed it.

You make your rounds quickly as you check for resources. At this point, it’s muscle memory for you as you move through the room with silent purpose, efficient and controlled. You dig through every storage unit, every container, pulling open cabinets and drawers, tearing through the floor with precision as you toss aside rusted tools and empty cans, a pit burning in your stomach. You snarl, throwing down another torn rag. It hits the floor with a thud.

You knew this would happen. You know the chances, but after all this time you still feel the crushing disappointment? You let out a shaky breath, nostrils flaring as you attempt to quell your frustration.

You can practically hear your mother snap at you. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you, (Your Nickname), unless you want to die, her stern voice echoes. You unclench your teeth with a sigh.

It doesn’t take long, your anger simmering down with each exhale, and when you’re sure you’re calm enough, you resume your initial task: scavenging the barn. Is it a waste of time and energy? Yes. Will you find anything useful? Unlikely. Are you going to try anyway?

You head for the stairs to the hayloft. Even if there seems to be nothing left, you need to make sure.

A few minutes later, you're sifting through another trunk when a yelp cuts across the dusty air, followed by the shrill sound of grinding metal. You startle, hissing as you bang your head against the trunk lid. Pushing down the throbbing pain, you snatch your spear and clamber down the stairs, stumbling forward as your eyes darting around the dust drifting in the air. Something barks over you and you look up.

Huh. Did not expect that.

You were prepared for a snarling, limb crushing insect. Or maybe a triple jawed mammal. Even a mega-pig. You’ve seen enough of those and managed.

But a dog? More specifically, a dog caught in the net you barely avoided. It’s tangled in the ropes suspended just above your head, gently swaying. It seems it does not care for the swinging because it starts barking again, louder and more urgent than before.

“Ah, poor doggy,” you croon, lowering your weapon. To your surprise, the dog stops and jerks to face you, its dark eyes gleaming in the shadows. You eye the seemingly calm animal. “Now, how did you get here? Were you following me?”

The dog whines, squirming in a sad attempt to escape. Your lips quirk up. Aside from the occasional bird, you haven’t seen a normal animal in what feels like forever, much less a dog. Most regular animals were consumed by monsters or by people for food.

Food. You haven’t eaten.

You study the dog; its dark brown fur, sleek and short, its body small⎼almost medium sized, with pointed ears and a long snout. And by the way it looks at you, it has some intelligence.

Your stomach grumbles, and the creature cocks its head at you, ears forward.

Shit.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you grimace at the dog, adjusting your hold before aiming the tip at it. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I’m hungry, and you’re the first thing I’ve seen that hasn’t tried to kill me in a while.”

Which isn’t a lie. Hunting is crazy difficult these days. But you swallow as your eyes meet, its stare unwavering like you aren’t pointing a weapon at his little body. Just one motion and you could end its life painlessly (lucky bastard), but your knuckles go white and you grip falters. Why are you hesitating now?

The dog, as if sensing your battle, barks again, this time more composed than panicked, as if trying to communicate with you. You’re grateful you can’t speak Dog. It’s probably saying something like ‘No, you’re better than this’ or ‘Please don’t do this’ or⎼

“Put him down!”

Or that.

Dear Aimee,

Guess what?

I got a dog! And he’s the coolest, his name is Boy.

He saved my life from a giant frog in a pool who tried to eat me with his tongue, and then we hung out in his bus! Man, do we make a great team. We found out that we have a ton in common too. I feel like we can talk about anything.

You gotta see us out here; we’re like this iconic duo. I don’t know, feels like when we’re together, we’re unstoppable.

“Right, Boy? Boy?” Joel glances at his side, doing a double take. The dog’s gone. His shoulders slump, “Of course, the first friend I’ve made outside and he leaves me. Sounds about right.”

He didn’t think he could gain and lose a friend within the span of two days. This has to be some kind of record.

He jerks when he hears Boy’s faint barking, guiding him as he drags himself back to the old barn they just passed. For good reasons. The decaying barn looks like it’s in need of a new contractor and a paint job… or three. And an exterminator.

God, the surface is terrifying.

Gulping down his dread, Joel crouches to peer through the gaping hole in the wall. This must be where Boy came through. “Whatcha got there?”

The barking ceases, and so does Joel’s heart.

You stand in the dark like an apparition, back turned to him so he can’t make out your features. Your attention is fixed on the shadowed lump hanging over you, and while it’s dark and he doesn’t have a good vantage point, Joel’s mouth goes dry as he seeks out Boy.

Boy woofs again, and Joel’s heart drops. You step closer to the lump.

For a split second, he sees a flash of his mother’s face, her tears streaming down her cheeks.

He doesn’t think; no thoughts, head empty. Blood roars in his ears. His hands tremble. But he doesn’t hesitate, ripping the makeshift crossbow from his back as he scrambles under the opening.

“Put him down!”

He’s not entirely sure what he expects. He’s read enough comic books to understand the situation; the hero drops in to save damsel in distress then proceeds to demolish the bad guys. Technically, he has the upper-hand here. Right?

But realization slams into him. It knocks the air out of him, and he forgets to breathe.

He shouldn’t have barged in like an idiot. He isn’t a hero. He’s nothing like the superheroes in comics and movies and graphic novels. He doesn’t have super strength or speed or highly advanced tech and he sure as hell is not a genius.

What he does have: a freezing problem.

He’s already lost feeling in his hands, and he almost drops the weapon as you look over your shoulder at him.

On the other hand, you have a pretty clear idea before you face your captor (seeing him now, can you even consider him that?). With the apocalypse, governments crumbled with ease along with laws and morals, so it’d make sense for people to disregard them. You’ve met quite a few… characters, and you’ve chalked it up to these main categories; garbage thieves, sleazy scavengers, and shitty thugs.

In short, humans are selfish creatures. Prepare for the worst.

You’ve thrown down, fought dirty, bartered with them all and still managed to come out on top, the scars across your body a constant reminder. Nothing surprises you at this point.

A fumbling boy though? You mask your amusement, raising an eyebrow as you take him in. The guy, tall and disheveled, blocks the only exit out of this godforsaken place, his red jacket rumpled and dusty like he’s fallen one too many times. However, what nearly sends you is, as he steps further into the light, you bite your lip, his eyes round and small lips pressed together as the crossbow quakes in his hands.

Who let this puppy out of their sight?

“Listen, buddy,” You finally speak, making Joel flinch. Your eyes narrow as his fingers jerk on the trigger. That’s not good. “If you’re gonna point that thing at me, you better know how to use it.”

He sucks in air, clearing his throat as his eyes dart between Boy and you. He cringes when his voice comes out octaves higher than he expected, “Let Boy go.”

“’Boy’?” You glance up, your weapon still raised at the squirming little fellow. “Oh, you mean Dinner?”

“You were gonna eat him?”

You shrug. “Maybe. Depends how this goes.”

“Okay,” Joel swallows, a futile attempt to keep his tone even as nausea sprouts in him. You plan to eat Boy? How can someone eat something so cute? “Let him go, and we’ll leave you alone. How ‘bout that?”

Beads of sweat drip down his temple as his breaths come out shuddered. He’s not used to this; he’s gone from being the chef of his colony to making demands, negotiating with a possible psycho. He never trained for this! Well, he’d never been trained, period.

What if he says the wrong thing and sets you off, hurting Boy in the process? He might faint⎼no⎼he will faint. He doesn’t think his heart can handle losing more people… or animals. How is he supposed to save Boy? His fingers twitch against the trigger.

You don’t miss it.

“I don't know about that,” You reply, studying him. His hands tremble as they clutch the weapon. He may not be a scavenger or a thief, but that just makes him all the more unpredictable. Goons, you’d expect them to shoot first, ask questions later, but the fact this guy is making an effort to talk? You want to know his angle, his intentions.

Whether it’s good or bad.

“I’m hungry. It’s going to be dark soon, and Boy here,” You jerk your head at the canine, “was unlucky enough to fall into this ol’ trap.”

You watch, withholding a sneer as emotions and thoughts flit across Joel’s face like an open book. It seems a lightbulb goes off because he looks back at you, eyes wide and hopeful. “You want food? I have some in my backpack. If I give it to you, you let him go?”

He tries not to squirm, the little courage he has waning as your eyes bore into him.

“…Put the crossbow and the bag down. Slowly.”

“You too.” You tilt your head curiously as Joel stutters, “Your spear⎼I mean, if you could stop pointing it at my dog. Please.”

Your brows shoot up. Since the moment he entered⎼wait⎼floundered in here, he could not have made it more obvious that he has no idea what he’s doing. If it wasn’t the way he carried that exposed him, it was definitely his facial expressions, and if not his face, you can hear it trickle through the cracks in his voice. Yet despite how unfair the situation is for him, he’s trying to cover his terror. Failing miserably but trying. All for this cute, little doggy.

And he said please. You ignore the way it warmed you, his tone so…. genuine.

Manners, sincere or not, in the face of danger? You have to respect that.

“It’s a javelin, actually, but I agree to your terms.” Your grip slackens. He might be a wimp, but you have to give it to him. He’s got balls.

A flicker of relief crosses his face, and you both comply with your instructions. In spite of his obvious fear, you roll your eyes as he unzips his bag unnecessarily slower than you meant him to, throwing you a look.

On second thought, he’s either really brave or really stupid. It’s fifty-fifty at this point.

Joel pulls out an aluminum can. It glints in the light as he holds it up and tosses it to you. You catch it easily, inspecting it in your hands.

“Now will you let my dog go⎼Boy!” His scream tears through the barn.

You’re already composed. Uncoiling like a snake, you seize your spear and swing, all in one motion. He lunges for you, but you’re too far. He hits the ground.

Groaning in pain, he berates himself. He should have known; they had no reason to trust each other, so of course this stranger, this psycho, would betray him. He tries to brush it off, the false sense of security dissipating, the relief replaced with crushing betrayal and horror.

This is what the surface is like? His chest clenches. He can’t breath, but this isn’t like when he freezes up on a monster. At least, not those monsters. This is worse. So much worse.

The net rips, then a pained grunt. Joel shields his eyes, burying his face in his hands as tears trail down his dirt-smudged cheeks. His heart thunders in his ears as he prepares for the inescapable sound of Boy’s pained yelps, the squelch of metal piercing flesh. He chokes down a sob.

He only knew Boy for less than two days, but within that timespan he bared his soul to the animal. He probably knew him better than his own colony. In the short time they had together, he became his best friend⎼

Okay, ew. What is licking him?

“Boy?” Joel groans, flinching away as the dog bombards him with wet kisses. “Wait, you’re not dead?”

You step into the light, javelin in hand as you snort, “Of course not. Did you think I was gonna kill him?”

Yes. Joel sits up and cradles Boy to his chest, gawking at you.

You glare at him, almost offended. “I’m not a monster.”

No. No you are not.

Decked in a faded blue jacket, you stand relaxed, spear perched over your shoulder (or a jav⎼java-something). Your eyes glint in the sunlight like steel, hard and piercing, with dark circles under them. You watch him with a slight frown. And like him, there’s smudges of dirt on your face and clothes, but you manage to make it look cool and purposeful.

You don’t look like a monster, but you kind of acted like one. Joel is conflicted.

He opens his mouth to respond, but he's not sure what to say in this situation, overwhelmed by a cocktail of emotions that he’s still coming down from. Before he conjures an appropriate response (is there even one?), you're shouldering your backpack and slipping through the gap. Joel rushes to his feet. “Hey, wait!”

You continue up the hill, not bothering to turn to him as you purse your lips. “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m ‘still here’! You held my dog hostage; kind of hard to get over,” he grumbles, panting as he trudges after you with Boy at his heels. You’re faster than you look. “So⎼uh⎼where you heading?”

“Away.”

He nods almost sage-like, wringing his hands together. “Cool, cool. So mysterious,” He pauses, inhaling deeply. His voice, now deeper and a bit more relaxed, comes in a rush as he asks, “Is there any chance we could go with you?”

You freeze, and Joel almost crashes into your back. You whirl around and suddenly you’re faced to face, but you’re too astonished by his question to care that he’s in your personal bubble.

His breathes come in heaves. His eyes are big and round, brown and bright with… hope?

It occurs to you that this guy, who hasn’t even given you his name, is a loser. A hopeful, naive loser.

And it’s for that reason you come to a decision⎼you’ll entertain him.

“Where are you going?”

“West,” Joel’s shoulders hunch, his voice self-assured as he adds, “to the coast.”

Yeah... fuck that.

You turn to walk away. “No.”

“Wait!”

You glower at him, stopping him in his tracks. “Dude, we got what we wanted. I got food, you got your dog. End of transaction.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, like he’s debating how far he can test you. He seems to think better of it as his shoulders sag and he caves, “Fine, I’ll head west without you. I can do it.” The last part he says more to himself before turning on his heel, starting in the direction opposite of you.

You nod. This is good, for the both of you. And safer, you tell yourself as you turn to begin your trek again. You’re two strangers in the apocalypse; you don’t know who he is, where he’s been, and, from your experience, it’s best to travel alone. It’s inconspicuous, efficient and⎼

Where the hell is he going?

You halt, squinting as you watch him hike away from the west coast. “Hey!”

He looks at you over his shoulder, his face surprised but expectant. Hopeful. He reminds you of a puppy being called over by their owner.

He thinks you’re caving into him.

Well, jokes on you, loser. You raise an eyebrow, “You know that’s not West, right?”

“Oh,” Joel’s eyes widen, clearing his throat. Boy woofs and he shoots him a withered look, altering his trajectory. “I knew that.”

“That’s not West either.”

He switches directions again.

You shake your head. “No.“

And again.

“Nope.”

Joel’s face reddens, unable to meet your eyes as he stops trying so he doesn’t further humiliate himself.

You make your way over to him, rolling your eyes. He seems to make you do that a lot. “Okay, how much food you got on you?”

“Enough to last me a week? Why⎼”

That’s all you needed to hear.

“Then it’s settled,” You decide, clapping him on the shoulder. He winces. “You share your rations with me, and I’ll help you get to the West coast.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback as you begin your trek once again, gesturing him to follow you. You feel his eyes on your back. “Really?”

“Really. You are a food source. Also I’m pretty sure you’d die before getting halfway.” You add, unabashed.

He frowns, unsure whether to be grateful or not. He decides on the latter. “Oh…thanks anyway?”

“You're really not from around here, are you?” You pause, looking back at him.

He scratches the back of his neck. “No. Is it that obvious?”

“Painfully. So free advice,” You, with a hand on your hip and tone clipped, gesture up and down at his⎼well⎼everything. “Try not to let anyone know you’re a newb. Might keep you alive.” With that, you start heading West, not bothering to see if he’s comprehended the note you bestowed on him.

Joel glances down at himself before trailing after you. “Good to know.”

AN: I want to make it clear: I would never eat a dog, you would never eat a dog, no one would ever eat. A. Dog. That was a joke for this part 1. I even wrote emphasis on your character’s hesitation. It’s just that this is the apocalypse, so it’s safe to assume that survivors are driven into corners, desperate and have to make some hard choices.

The end dialogue is reference to @teenwolffanclub-me TW rewrite bc i love it and them so if you like Dylan O’ Brien and Stiles pls read their shit. <333

This part is a slow starter, but I don’t want to rush this, your intro and your development. But, now that you’ve finally met, hopefully the rest won’t seem any slower than the beginning.

I’ve never wrote for a lone survivor kind of character before. I hope you enjoyed the intro nonetheless!

I think I’ll forgo the 7 parts idea, but that’s a goal.

Part 2 in progress.

Also, how to get a beta reader??

#joel dawson x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #joel dawson #love and monsters #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #joel dawson x you #joel dawson x y/n #love and monsters x reader #reader insert

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sokodraws · 3 years

Photo

Crying. Why was he crying?

ye, infelix doesn’t cope well with his past, it haunts him so to say

he’s one of my more broken characters

full story under ‘read more’

PAST LIFE

(witten as a comission by the amazing @/tomokoseph on twitter)

Infelix had the flat all to himself. It wasn’t a first for him—far from it, he’d say—but it was still a rarity. Not only that, but he had a week without any of the others running about; it was a far cry from the two days at most he’d spent alone. And how did this begin? A modeling gig? It was only the third day of his isolation, and he already wasn’t sure. Though even if the memory had become a haze, he could still find necessary details.

It all began as a long conversation on a rainy afternoon. With a sudden text letting Dorcha and Flora know they’d been selected for a bigger modeling job, they gained congratulations, only to surprise the rest with how long they would be gone. Misha would join the pair—it seemed everyone expected that—and after that, it felt like everyone wanted to join along. Diopetes seemed more than eager to join the newly created trio. After contemplation, Mire decided he didn’t want to be left out of this team of sorts and tagged along even if the whole thing was of no interest to him.

And then there was one. But even with all of the others’ pestering, metaphorically and literally tugging on Infelix’s arm so he could go out farther than the city for once, he wouldn’t budge. As far as he was concerned, someone had to look after the apartment (a lame excuse). Admittedly, he was surprised that everyone let him get left behind, but he wasn’t complaining.

Infelix didn’t do much throughout the days, savoring the time to himself that slowly counted down to the group’s return. It’s not that he hated their presence, but sometimes the constant conversations became overbearing, and silence only came about in the dead of night. Hell, the more he thought about it, he should have gone along to make sure no one got in trouble. And yet, out of his volition, he let them go without a peep. Considering they were all used to their human vessels, nothing too wild could stem from one week unsupervised. Hopefully.

Now, on the third day, he could admit he was getting used to this mundane routine of his. It began to grow on him, even turning into a comfort he never thought he’d ever experience. To know it would disappear within a few days didn’t click yet, so it felt like paradise being able to stay anywhere he wanted without anything to interrupt his train of thought. With that, he decided to do something he hadn’t in a while: listen to music.

After laying on the couch for what felt like hours, he stood up and walked towards their old, small shelf. While it remained empty for a while, Flora insisted they decorate at least a little. That’s what ended up with them owning a few potted plants, books they’ve never read, and a used record player that came with a collection of vinyl records. Pulling the record player out of the top shelf along with a random record, he walked towards the couch, having to place it on the ground to plug it in. After a bit of fumbling around, the record was in its place, and the needle set down and slowly bringing it to life. He then stared down at the album he had picked out. Brahms? Not a bad choice. As the sounds of Piano Concerto No. 1 filled the room, a thought came to Infelix’s mind: I need a drink.

After a quick jog to the kitchen and rummaging through the shelves, he pulled out an ornate bottle of whiskey that he didn’t touch too often. It was on the more expensive side—one he doubted anyone could drink regularly with its price—so he saved it for special occasions. Well, special wasn’t exactly the right term, but it felt most appropriate to how he felt then. Taking a glass one shelf down from the alcohol, he walked back to the living room, falling back onto the couch as he poured himself some whiskey.

Taking a sip as he placed the bottle onto the coffee table before him, Infelix let out a sigh as the strong drink slid down his throat. As the intense playings of a piano that graced his ears died down, transforming into soft strings, he stared at the wall, his previous thoughts washing out of his mind into nothingness. As he relaxed further into the couch, taking a bigger swig of his drink, he wondered what would have happened if he had Dorcha and Flora’s lives. What was it like running about in pretty clothes, getting pictures taken and blown up for others to see, feeling somewhat significant in this anomaly of a universe?

Then, he paused. Once, he felt like someone of significance, somewhere in a land from long ago.

Deadramel.

No, he hadn’t forgotten about the realm. It would always be lingering in the back of his mind, still waiting to come to the forefront. After getting used to human years, that moment in time felt like an old memory, though it had only been a little over a decade since then. As he took another sip of his drink, he realized he was running dry, leaning forward to pour himself a little more.

Infelix remembered how everyone treated him before, becoming an important demon to all who knew him. But he just had to ruin it all, following along with Mire and Dorcha’s plans of killing the King, turning into a traitor to all in a single day despite centuries of trust. Even then, he didn’t blame the pair more than himself; why did he let such a plan go through? Grimacing, he drank down more whiskey, finding that it went down smoother the more his thoughts ran.

Before this, Infelix lived a far better life. He lived with prestige, was respected by all, second only to the King. All that he needed was at his disposal, and any commands met in moments. And even before his lavish life within castle grounds, merely roaming the wasteland Deadramel used to be, there was still one thing he had that couldn’t compare to anything else in the world: the King’s love.

But that was long ago. Now all Infelix had was this lackluster flat, surrounded by the ones he could have stopped, living a life where he felt he was rotting away. He felt like a hollow shell of the demon he once was, and the thought made his head throb in a way he rarely felt. By then, the music had disappeared into the background, barely heard by the never-ending words that rushed through his mind. They mocked what he had turned into, about how he’d never get back his past life no matter how he tried. No more Deadramel, no more of the other demons he cared for, no more of the King; all of these were memories he could visit, but all they’d do was bring him pain and suffering.

Staring down at his glass, at the drops of golden alcohol that sat at the bottom, it didn’t seem like enough. Placing the glass down, ignoring how it hit the table with a thud hard enough to break it, his eyes met with the whiskey bottle. It was still three-fourths full and, while he was unsure if it was even a right decision, all semblance of rationality had disappeared from him. In one quick movement, the bottle was in his hands, and he drank as much as his body would let him.

By the time he’d taken more than he could, pulling the bottle away with force, his vision had gone so hazy that he swore he wouldn’t move from the couch. But his instincts had other plans, forcing him out of his seat and roaming the room, pacing around with desperation. Despite the dull thud that made his head ache, he still needed more, craved more to muddle the thoughts that overcame him. Rushing about the room with the whiskey still in hand, he’d soon find his answer hidden deep within one of almost untouched drawers they had full of medicine, just by the bedroom door on the lowest row. Dropping onto his knees, he felt his headache only grow worse, but he merely shook it off as memories of the past jumbled together with the pain.

Infelix put his bottle down onto the ground before pulling the drawer open. He pushed aside any medicine he knew wouldn’t help, instead reaching for the small, bright yellow bottles near the back. All were still full to the brim, but with labels that had faded enough to be left unread. He didn’t remember what any of them did or even who they belonged to, but he didn’t care.

With hurried hands, he screwed the lid off of one, gulping at the sight of pills right in front of him. As far as he was concerned, this was what could help him forget, maybe take him out if luck was on his side, and he tilted his head back as he dropped them all into his mouth.

Some fell onto the floor, but that was the least of his concerns. With a mouthful of pills, he forced them down with whiskey that he drank down with desperation. After placing the bottle down, eyes staring at the other medicine that sat before him, he reached for another. He repeated what he’d done, over and over, too many times to count, but soon found out he was out of alcohol. Clambering up to get more, he stopped himself dead in his tracks, a memory slipping through the cracks.

Deadramel, still a wasteland, no one else but one in sight.

The King’s voice.

“No, no, that’s not right.”

Infelix nodded slowly, though still seemed confused by the magic he was supposed to mimic. When they found themselves in areas too dark to see, he would always rely on the King to lead the way, bringing about light as bright as stars that peeked through the night. But the King told him that it couldn’t continue this way forever, and Infelix would have to learn the skills that he had honed. Although surprised at first, Infelix accepted but wasn’t too sure how well this ordeal would pan out.

“Is it not?” Infelix asked, a limb extended from his shapeless form.

“No. Why don’t you follow after me, hm?” The King outstretched a limb as well. For a moment, there seemed to be no sign of struggle at all, the faint aura of magic swirling around him, soon manifesting as a ball that glowed in his palm. “Don’t push yourself too hard, and it will come, I promise you.”

Infelix, still in shock at how effortlessly the King created light, wondered if he could ever reach such a sheer amount of skill. Now flustered as he felt the need to push himself, he strained his mind to create something in his hands, feeling the King’s gaze on him for every second that passed. With a mixture of motivation to do as the King pleased and shame at the lack of prowess he had at magic, a semblance of results would soon yield.

At first, what had appeared were simple sparks, though even the small display had the King let out a gasp. The reaction had Infelix wanting to push for more, but his next few attempts only gave the same results each time. Though Infelix was on the verge of giving up, the King stood beside him, seeming unbothered by the failed attempts. Instead, the King repeated as he had done before, and all Infelix could do was watch in awe, then caught off guard as he felt a sensation tingling in his palm. Looking ahead towards his palm, his concentration suddenly increased tenfold, and it seemed all magic he had transferred right into his hand. Before his mind could even process what was happening, the same ball of light the King had suddenly manifested before him.

To say shock and awe ran through Infelix’s body was an understatement. He brought the orb closer towards his face, squinting down at its brightness, in disbelief that he could create such a thing. Yet any confusion would cease as the King suddenly drew near, beaming at Infelix, seeming prouder than ever. The sight of this had Infelix feeling lighter than air, much more pleased by his abilities in a matter of moments.

“It’s not that hard, is it?” the King asked, tone joking. “I’m proud of you, Infelix. You truly do have the potential to harness great magic.”

The statement had the already elated Infelix feel joy that overtook his whole thoughts, his entire body. To be praised by the man that cared for him was divine, an experience incomparable, and he doubted even the grandest occurrences that could happen in his life would compare to this small moment he shared with the King.

And nothing ever did.

Despite all the alcohol that filled his stomach, pills floating amongst the liquid within, the memory was as clear as day. It was as if it had occurred all over again, and the thought made Infelix pause, staring down at the ground as he couldn’t quite process it no matter how he tried. Why then? Why now? For him, it all didn’t make sense, and the dull throb in his head only grew worse.

Subsequently, tears dripped onto the ground, and it took a moment before Infelix could realize what was happening. A heaviness settled itself into his chest without warning, a light tremble over his body following, and tears continued to slip past him even if he wanted to stop them. Crying. Why was he crying? In all that had occurred in his life, tears never fell, only dread filling him in the worst of times. Perhaps his humanness was catching up with him, and he couldn’t help but groan in frustration as he let emotion overwhelm him.

The past would never return, his greatness only existing as fragments in his mind. No, all he had now were Dorcha and Mire, the pair only serving as a reminder of the mistakes he made in the past, a pair he had to take care of no matter what. But by then, Infelix didn’t even know if he could continue being the pair's carer. In a sense, he wanted to do all he could for them, but it was as if his body had given up.

Infelix was at a loss for what to do, all he had consumed unable to hinder such extreme emotion. It was as if hundreds of years of exhaustion finally manifested into his human vessel, and he felt utterly useless. Unlike before, the conditions of his life were against him. By then, he couldn’t name a single good thing that had happened in years. He was nothing. A failure—

He needed another drink.

And another.

More pills.

Before he knew it, Infelix passed out, slumped against the wall as he dropped a bottle of whiskey in his hands, knocking over other bottles he’d had strewn across the floor.

#infelix #my design #the cursed universe #oc #oc backstory #digital art #backstory

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Fanfiction 21 Q&A Tag Game

Many thanks to @cg29 and @onereyofstarlight for the tags ::hugs::

1. What fandoms have you written for?

According to FF.net: Stargate SG-1, Knight Rider, Farscape, Stargate Atlantis, Supernatural, Star Trek: The Original Series, Angel and Thunderbirds.

2. How many works do you have on Ao3 &/or FFNet?

Ao3: 214 (210 Thunderbirds)

FF.net: 235 (178 Thunderbirds)

3. What are your top 3 fics by kudos on A03 &/or favs on FFNet?

Ao3 Kudos:

Gumnut’s Thunderbirds Ficlet Collection (161)

Who do You Save, John? (107)

Dirt (106)

FFNet Favs:

The Asgard Sequence (SG-1) (150) – this fic is 17 years old

Spectator (ST:TOS) (73)

The Empty Chessboard (ST:TOS) (50)

Highest Thunderbirds fic is A Good Day (36)

4. Which 3 fics have the least kudos & favs?

Ao3:

Tactics (4)

To Raise Havoc (5)

Gumnut’s were!Virgil AU ficlets (6)

FFNet:

Gumnut’s Angel Ficlet collection (0)

Gumnut’s Supernatural Ficlet Collection (0)

Stars (SG-1) (0)

Lowest Thunderbirds fic is Gumnut’s wereVirgil AU ficlets (1)

5. Which Fic has the most comments and which has the least?

This stat will always be skewed by the multi-chapter fics and wonderful peeps comment on each of the chapters.

Ao3 Comment Threads:

Gumnut’s Thunderbirds Ficlet Collection (164) followed by We’ll Be Home For Christmas (79) both of which have more comments than kudos, apparently.

12 fics have 0 comments

FFNet:

The Asgard Sequence (SG-1)(133) followed by Tales of Warm Rain (105)

11 fics have 1 review, 0 have none (wow).

6. Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?

I am grateful for any and all kind interaction with my fics. One thing I did eye was the difference between Callisto and Where There Be Dragons. Callisto is an experiment on my part and has received some amazing support from Thunderfam. However, I feel my writing hasn’t been as inspired (or crazy) or posted fast enough to garner and keep attention. The Steampunk AU grabbed much more attention, had zero planning, was written fast and on the fly and grabbed almost the same amount of attention. The Promotions Coordinator in me is curious about these things :D

7. Have you written any crossovers?

Only one. I wanted to put Virgil behind the wheel of Kitt from Knight Rider. Eos and Kitt were having very interesting interactions as well :D I really Need Saving

8. What is the craziest fic you’ve written?

Um…there have been a few. From Tracy brothers dancing to Tom Jones, the time a drunk Scott and Virgil tried to save a cat from a tree, hospitalising Virgil because of Grandma’s chilli, and the time I jammed Thunderbird One in the pool, but my favourite has to be Prank War. It was so much fun. I’ve linked all the nutty fics together in a series on Ao3.

9. What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?

The saddest endings are all my WiPs! I don’t tend to do much in the way of sad endings. Sad fics, yes, endings, not so much. Having said that, I’m blaming @godsliltippy for Leaf on the Wind.

10. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I don’t have a clue, but I am partial to the end of Dirt. I got to flex Tracy money muscle…a lot :D

11. What is your smuttiest fic?

I experimented in this arena during my Virgil/Kayo writing spree with varying success. There is about five I think in total, including the novel length Gentle Rain (which can be read without it, wasn’t planned and just happened), but I think the most successful was To Hurt Us (aka Veggie’s Shower Fic).

12. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Very, very rarely. I did receive one review once that complained about how many unfinished fics I had – that more were unfinished than finished. This triggered me a bit as this is an ongoing problem of mine and I struggle to focus long enough to complete works. Having said that I have completed several, for me, long fics, my longest being 68,000 words. Also, as a result of that and my distressed post about it (yeah, triggered, what can I say?) I received some amazing support both on and off Tumblr. Thunderfam rocks!

13. What is the nicest comment you’ve received?

I am seriously spoilt by Thunderfam on a regular basis, there have been many comments that have lifted my spirits, inspired me and just made my day so much better. Again, Thunderfam rock!

14. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I’m jaded, so I wouldn’t be surprised. But one thing I actually like is when some random thing I threw into a fic pops up in fanon :D

15. How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?

I’m not counting. I refuse :P

16. Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?

Not looking. I can’t hear you. Lalalalalalala!

17. Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?

All of them. Yes, I am deluded. But to start is fun, to finish is ecstasy.

18. Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?

Several. I don’t have as much time as I would like. My muse is fickle and I have to learn to let go, or face muse crippling stress.

19. Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?

None. I don’t rewrite. Don’t have the patience or motivation.

20. Which complete fic is your favourite?

We’ll Be Home For Christmas for multiple reasons, but I also love V.T. Green (and want to write sequels for both)

21. What’s your total published word count?

Ao3: 1,079,768

FF.net: 1,392,681

If someone is brand new to your writing, what work would you want them to start with to get to know you, your style, what you’re all about?

My two favourite fics, maybe? Though admittedly my writing can be rather variable and inconsistent. Anyone got any suggestions which of my fics demonstrates my style?

Other answers to this tag game (because the post is massively long):

cg29, burningcowboyhoagietaco, gaviiadastra, the-original-sineater, myladykayo, janetm74, m-calculus, onereyofstarlight, godsliltippy

Tagging: @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 @the-lady-razorsharp @vegetacide

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #meme

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cheolliewrites · 3 years

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Waiting for Midnight - Prologue

1,427 word count | idol Hoshi x Guardian Angel reader A prologue for a social media au series

“I promise it won’t happen again!” you cried, chasing after the Guardian of Angels.

It was past midnight, and you followed your superior through a grim and cave-like entrance that hides the stairway to the gates of the Almighty. You knew very well that you aren’t allowed to enter the place, but in a desperate attempt, you had to follow.

You caught up behind your superior and held onto his glowing white robes, making him turn around and look at you harshly with his piercing silver eyes. “Please give me one more chance,” you begged, voice sounding weak and cracked.

His gaze continues to pierce through you, and you continued to plead him. But the man with the silver eyes and long ice-white beard showed no sympathy to your distress. “Please,” you rubbed your palms together.

He sighs and looks behind him, deliberating whether he should walk through the gates of the Almighty to terminate your guardianship or to show you compassion. Then he looks at you, and then he looks back one more time before harshly grabbing your wrist to pull you down the stairs and to the side.

“You revealed yourself to your human in attempt to save her, but she still died before her Final Day under your guardianship,” he growled, pointing his finger at you. You couldn’t bear to look at him. “Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t terminate your guardianship.”

Words didn’t come out of your mouth. Death came and took all your soul and left you with only grief and tears. Only then did you realize that your desperation was an empty shell.

This was how she felt when she was alive.

“She told me that there are just some people in this world that you couldn’t save, no matter who you may be,” your voice cracked as you placed a hand over your chest, surprised over the unfamiliar pain you feel inside. “She told me that people just can’t be saved unless you understood their pain.”

When you look up, you notice how his eyes begin to water. But he closes his eyes and blinks back the tears, “And so what? You want another chance to understand humans? See if you could save the next one?” It was clear that he was furious with you.

“And what happens if you can’t save the next one?” He challenges you, eyes sharp and gaze unshaken.

“It won’t happen again,” you whisper, “I’ll learn to love the next one and guide them as if it were her.”

He tries to stand still with his arms crossed, face clear with disappointment and anger. But after a while, he struggles to keep his composure. He groans and takes a step closer, “All right,” he whispers rather intimidatingly, “I’ll give you one last chance.”

Suddenly, it felt as if you had a living heart that jumped out of your chest.

“But if you so desperately want to understand humans, then you have to be human yourself.”

Your imaginary heart jumped out of your chest and fell to the underworld. “What?” You whispered back in disbelief.

“Come with me,” He says as he grabs your wrist and leads you outside the cave-like entrance and back into the quiet little village in the middle of busking Seoul city. In the realm of humans, the Guardian of Angels no longer had a long white beard and glowing robes.

Instead, his white hair was freckled with grey strands and put up in a man bun. He wore a black shirt, jeans, and what looked like a faded and worn brown leather jacket. And his eyes were no longer silver but plain old black. Oddly, he also smelled like smoke and mint.

You looked down at yourself and realized that you were no longer wearing robes as well but a dress that was like the ones your previous human loved to wear. With an unsteady breath, you nervously turned your head to peek at what would be your ultimate nightmare.

“Yes, your wings are gone.” He states the obvious for you while he continues to drag you along with him to who knows where, “Starting tonight, you are human. And you see this?”

He stops in the middle of the empty street to lift your hand up and show you your wrist. Like magic, a mark was slowly burning into your skin. You tried to yank your hand back as you winced in pain, but he held it tightly in his grip.

He shows you a mark on your wrist that was tainted with white lines, “These are the wings that only you and other angels like me could see.” He lifts his wrist and shows you the same mark on his, “It reminds us in this human world that we are celestial beings.”

You nodded slowly, taking your wrist back to look at it. With your other hand, you traced the white lines that formed the wings on your wrist. But it didn’t take you a while to observe your marking as he grabbed your wrist once again and dragged you along the street. “Where are we going?” You asked, feeling a little uneasy.

“To meet someone that I used to know,” He says, suddenly smiling as he stopped in front of a tiny little café. Before you could voice your curiosity, he reached out, yank the door open, and ushered you inside.

Behind the counter, you see an old lady wearing an apron. She was holding a basket filled with pastries that she kept from the display rack. Your superior whistles softly behind you, calling the attention of the lady who finally sees you.

She drops the basket on the table and hurries around it with tongs in her hand. Your superior greets her with open arms, but she, on the other hand, stands on her tippy toes to raise her arm and hit your superior’s head with the tongs that she was holding.

A gasp behind you makes you turn around to see a boy dressed in black winter clothes sitting in the corner table. His platinum blonde hair was peeping through the hood, but you couldn’t see his face as he was wearing a black mask. He bows shyly at you as if he were intimidated to see you staring.

You bow slightly and turned back around, only to see your superior being dragged by the hair to the back of the café. It was your instinct to silently follow them.

You didn’t understand what they were bickering about, but alas, the lady finally calmed down and your superior started fixing his man bun.

“So, this is Anne,” Your superior exhales, putting a hand on Anne’s shoulder, “She’s not a celestial. But she offers tea, coffee, and more for both celestials and humans. You’ll be working with her so that you’d be able to provide for your... human needs.”

She smiles warmly at you, and you smile back. But her smile doesn’t last long as your superior starts rummaging through her kitchen cabinets, “Aha,” he laughs as he found what he was looking for, “Use this phone to contact me and do whatever humans do on it. It’s what I use whenever I need to stay in the human realm.”

You took the phone in your hands and nodded. Unlocking it and swiping left and right on the home screen. The device and the applications weren’t unfamiliar to you as you constantly see how your previous human used it.

“Anyway, I have to go now. Do you have any questions, though?” He faces you and places both his hands on your shoulders, making sure that your full attention was on him.

“Um yeah,” you cleared your throat, “When will I turn back into... you know, who I used to be?”

He chuckles and shakes you up a little bit by the shoulders. He knew that you were a little nervous for your new mission, “When your new human finds the strength to hold on a little longer and figures out how to live without your earthly guidance, then it’s time to come home.”

“How will I know when he’s ready?”

Your superior gives you a small smile, “Your mark will start to fade, and that’s when you know that he no longer needs to borrow your wings to fly.”

You gulp, nodding and staring silently at the small angel wings that were marked on your wrist. Your superior takes his hands off your shoulders and turns to hug Anne and say his goodbyes.

He waves at you and head towards the door, then stopping as if he had forgotten something. “Oh,” He chuckles, “Your new human’s name is Kwon Hoshi. He’s also an idol, just like your previous human.”

Waiting for Midnight - Epilogue

[ previous ] - [ masterlist ] - [ next ]

contains: 💬🤍🌪☁️💿🪐 paring: idol!Hoshi x Guardian Angel reader spotify playlist: Waiting for Midnight Plot:

At risk of losing your guardianship, you are forced to take form of a baker who works across Pledis Entertainment to closely guard your new human, Kwon Hoshi, a bubbly idol who often visits at midnight with heavy thoughts clouding his mind.

A/N:

Today was really the perfect day to publish Waiting for Midnight. Many of us remembered Jonghyun and his comforting lyrics, the sky in my city was crying from morning ‘til night, and we’re finally starting with a fresh new story in this blog!

This series won’t be as frequently updated as She’s Exquisite since classes will be resuming soon and I’ll be working on my business plan and implementation already :( but I’ll make sure to update the series every 3 or 4 days! So, I hope you guys will continue to look forward to the incoming chapters🤍

Taglist: (reply, dm, or ask to be tagged!)

@simplewonderland @lightsaber1397 @samemagicpoint @noniesgirl @vibecheckvernon @dy-mglzz @svteeeen @allthtyazz @minghaoist @minghaofilm @hazelbean13 @swimmingismywholelife @skylions-den @beomiebear5 @monstathedisco @worshiphoseok @mingyuahjumma @unmanageable-day @changbinniee @seungsanhun @baby-sungshine @haikyuu-carat @soonwoolover @multinines--xx @wispcoup @kwonscafe @anjcia @multistanfics @rosiexq @fluffyhyeju @ryuyalana

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alyssawritesss · 3 years

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COMMANDER LEXA: LONG LIVE THE NEW QUEEN

Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Commander Lexa x Fem!Reader Prompt: N/A Warnings: spoilers for 3x04, angst, death, violence Notes: Y/N = Your Name

[masterlist] [view my tag list info here] [tip me for my writing if you’d like]

TAGS: @sxturn-stars (permanent tags) // @xxstrangegirlxxx @johnmurphyisbisexual (the 100 tags)

You stood in the town square of Polis, whipping your sword back and forth as part of your last bit of training before the fight. You felt absolutely sick to your stomach thinking about what was about to happen. Your mother Queen Nia, the leader of Azgeda, had challenged Commander Lexa to a fight to the death. However, instead of your mother fighting for herself, she had named you to fight in her honour. Should Lexa win, she would remain in power. Should you win, Azgeda would take over.

Unbeknownst of everyone, you and Lexa were close… extremely close. When your mother had banished you, Lexa had agreed to help you as long as you were to stay far away from her people out of fear that you would betray her and hurt them. Over time Lexa learned to trust you and the two of you had grown closer, developing a relationship.

You knew what you had to do; you knew what your mother was like and even though you had no sense of loyalty to her, you felt you owed your people. Sure you weren’t in charge, but they were your people. If you didn’t win this battle, you’d be letting them all down. Still, thinking about killing Lexa was something you never wanted to have to do.

“Princess Y/N… It is time. Lexa will be coming out shortly.”

You turned around, spotting your mother’s second in command. Nodding, you took a breath. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you can handle this? Azgeda is counting on you.”

“Are you questioning my capability?” You glared. “Believe me, I want nothing more than for Azgeda to be in charge.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Princess.”

“Of course.” You responded, mustering a smile. “Now, why don’t you go find my mother… I’ll be there in a moment.”

Nodding once again, the man made his way over to the crowd surrounding the arena. You watched him idly for a moment before closing your eyes. You’ve got this, Y/N… You told yourself. Feelings don’t matter, your people do.

With that final thought, your attention was stolen by the sound of cheering coming from the arena. You knew Lexa had arrived and now it was your turn to make your way over.

…

Standing in the arena side by side with Lexa facing the stage, you could feel your heart falling into your stomach. Though your expression was as cold as your mother’s heart, Lexa could see right through it; she knew this was killing you, almost as much as it was killing her.

“In single combat there is but one rule. Someone must die today.” Titus spoke, his voice soft yet loud enough for all to hear. “You may begin.”

Looking at Lexa once more, you both made your way over to opposite ends of the arena. You met with one of your people, who handed you a sword. Nodding in appreciation you turned around, spotting Lexa facing away from you.

Just do it. This has to be done… Just get it done as fast as possible.

Rushing towards Lexa, you made your move. Before your sword could come in contact with her body, she quickly drew her own and spun around, blocking it with her own causing you to fly forward as she jumped out of the way. Cheers erupted through the crowd, causing your body to tense for a moment. As Lexa raised her sword, you quickly followed suit, the two of you making your way towards each other. Once again, your swords collided, inching back and forth, closer to each others throats by the second.

As you pushed the sword closer to Lexa, you noticed the panic forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry… I never wanted this.” You mumbled.

Lexa’s eyes met yours for a moment, taking them in. Without warning, Lexa grabbed onto the opposite end of her sword and began pushing with all of her might, pushing you backwards.

You quickly regained your footing, swinging your sword in her direction once again. Lexa swung back before you knocked her to the ground, kicking her sword out of her hands. Quickly catching her breath, Lexa punched you in your leg, causing you to fall to your knees as she tugged your sword from your hands. With a smirk, Lexa made her way over to her own sword, picking it up from the ground.

In a panic you stood to your feet, stepping backwards frantically. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

At the corner of your eye you spotted one of Lexa’s people in the crowd, holding a harpoon. You rushed over, pushing them as you grabbed it from their hands. “Thanks.” You spoke, turning back around to meet Lexa’s gaze.

The two of you approached the centre of the arena, glaring heavily. You both began swinging once again, you managing to knock one of the swords from Lexa’s hand. As she tumbled backwards slightly, you continued you swing, her barley able to keep up. As she lifted her sword once again you took your chance, lifting your leg and delivering a swift kick to her chest causing her to fly backwards, the final sword escaping her grip.

You swung the harpoon around in your hand, walking over to her. “Game over, Lexa…” You spoke, your voice booming. Taking a deep breath, you lifted the harpoon higher, driving it into the ground with every once of strength inside of you. Before you could even take in what was happening, Lexa rolled out from under you, the harpoon hitting just her hair. Delivering a kick to your leg once again, Lexa sent you backwards as she quickly picked herself off the ground.

Both of you stood face to face once again, Lexa without anything to defend herself. You hesitated for a moment, breaking your composure. Lexa took note, using your weakness against you. She charged towards you, catching you off guard and causing you to swing the harpoon around without much direction. In only a mater of seconds Lexa had managed to knock the harpoon from your grip, grabbing it for herself. With the impact you fell to your knees once more.

Lexa eyed you for a moment before grabbing the handle and middle of the harpoon, driving the bar into your chin with such great force your head flew backwards.

With you now lying on the ground, Lexa towering over you, you took a shaky breath.

“Get up!” Your mother yelled from the stage as she stood from her seat. “If you die, you don’t die a princess, you die a coward!”

Lexa watched your mother for a moment before looking back down at you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, shaking your head. “Just get it over with, alright?” You spoke, your voice barley there.

Taking a deep breath, Lexa’s eyes remained on yours. “Jus drein jus daun.” She spoke, lifting the harpoon. You closed your eyes, awaiting the impact. After what felt like an eternity, you heard screams erupt around you.

You slowly opened your eyes, Lexa still towering over you. She smiled lightly, her gaze turning towards the crowd as you sit up, looking around. Your face turns pale as you realize what had happened; your mother remained in her seat, now pinned to it with a harpoon through her chest.

Looking to Lexa, your jaw dropped.

“The queen is dead!” She spoke. “Long live the new queen!”

As cheers began to fill your ears, your eyes remained glued to Lexa. She looked back at you, offering out her hand, which you accepted. Now standing, Lexa looked you in the eyes.

“Don’t ever be sorry…”

~~~~~~~~~~

A really old piece (requested) from my really old blog. I totally forgot about this one but I still love it so much. Kinda want to do a mini series for it... Would anyone want that? Also, sorry for the spam for my tagged peeps, I’m just super inspired to write/post and impatient today lmfao Want to send me a request? You can do so HERE. Please remember to note and/or reblog if you enjoyed!!

#the 100 #the 100 imagines #the 100 preferences #commander lexa #commander lexa imagines #commander lexa preferences #commander lexa fanfic #commander lexa fanfiction #alyssawritesss: commander lexa

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pudgecuddles · 3 years

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My Content & Boundaries

[No need to be alarmed! Nothing has happened to prompt this, I just figured it was about time that I pin a post like this.]

Welcome to my kink blog! This post is here to introduce myself, disclose what type of content that I may reblog or post here (including trigger warnings) and state my boundaries concerning who I want and don’t want interacting with me or my blog.

Intro:

Hi! I’m pudgecuddles! I’ve been here in the community as a lurker since 2018, and finally got around to making this sideblog about 2 years ago under the handle “prettypudgy”. I changed my username slightly after some twitter douchecanoes took screenshots of my content and made threads mocking it.

I am 24 years old and identify as female. Please use she/her pronouns when referring to me. I won’t be mad at all though if you use they/them or he/him, but I’ll probably just gently let you know what I prefer :)

I am aromantic/asexual, meaning that I do not experience romantic or sexual attraction to people of any gender identity or expression. I still experience aesthetic attraction, and of course enjoy the concept of weight gain as a kink.

Although I am participating in them, I am not looking for RP partners at the moment!

My Content and the Content I Reblog:

Although I do like fluffy and mild WG content (ya’ll who make that type of content are amazing and beautiful and deserve all the love and reblogs in the world), I do enjoy darker and less popular tropes/kinks as well. Up until recently the majority of the stuff I’ve reblogged has been cute and moderate, but I have been working on my own stories and RPs which happen to be on the more intense/darker side.

My content going forward may include topics such as:

Extreme Weight Gain Immobility Mind Break Pet/Pig Play BDSM Humiliation Manipulation Feminization Dub-Con Watersports Eproctophilia Slob Abusive Relationships (it’s not something I enjoy writing, but I may reblog it)

I will always tag specific topics and tropes that may not be for everyone such as immobility or fart kink stuff. And definitely triggering content such as dub-con or degradation. For example, I will tag it as “Immobility”, “cw Immobility” and “tw Immobility”, in case someone has only one tag blacklisted.

Please keep yourself safe! This community is supposed to be a comfortable, creative area where users can curate a homepage of content that matches thier tastes and respects their boundaries. I will not be offended at all if you decide to block me or my written/rendered content. All I ask is if you’re already an acquaintance or mutual of mine that you let me know before you do :) You don’t even need to tell me why, I just don’t want to wonder if I made you mad or were ignoring me on purpose.

Zero hard feelings, seriously! The block button is there to protect you!

Boundaries:

Please do not hit on me, or unexpectedly discus sexual topics without me knowing your age and instigating it. It is different if I already know you and am comfortable speaking with you like that.

Yes: Pudgecuddles: Wow that drawing is ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) You, 18+: Wanna see him get bigger? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

No: Pudgecuddles: Wow! I love your line work! It’s so clean and really compliment’s the shading! You, 18+: Wanna see him get bigger? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

No: Pudgecuddles: Wow! I love your line work! It’s so clean and really compliment’s the shading! You, 16: Wanna see him get bigger? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yes: Pudgecuddles: Wow! I love your line work! It’s so clean and really compliment’s the shading! You, 16: Thank you so much! ^_^ What do you think about the shape of his hands?

Minors: If you do not have your age, (or at least an 18+ only, or “I am an adult!”) in your bio, I will either ask you for your age or choose not to interact directly with you. This is not a punishment or a personal vendetta. I just do not feel comfortable interacting directly with minors when it comes to NSFW kink content. I am okay with reblogging your content, as supporting those in the community that are still young and exploring their identities in a safe and distant way is very important to me. I am so happy for you that you have found a welcoming and protective space to safely explore your sexuality and discuss your favorite groups. It’s what I wish I had when I was younger.

But I ask that you don’t attempt to private message me or participate in conversations that are sexual in nature.

Bigotry: Do not interact with me, my blog or my content if you do not support all LGBTQ+ identities. This includes but is not limited to: Transgender folk, Bisexuals, Pansexuals, Polysexuals, Omnisexuals, Asexuals, Aromantics and Non-Binary/Agender peeps. TERFs, exclusionists and Battleaxe Bisexuals are not welcome and will be insta-blocked. Same with those that participate in “discourse” on these topics.

If you do not believe that Black Lives Matter or support Donald Trump or any conservative party, politician or policy, please unfollow and block me. They have killed thousands of people and actively lobby against minorities.

This is the only time that I will be political on this blog. I am infinitely more outspoken/advocating on my main, but this sideblog is supposed to be a stress-free, kinky escape from the horrors of reality. I go on my main to reblog petitions, I go on here to reblog erotica.

This does not mean that I do not care, or that I am not an ally or that I enable racists or transphobes. It just means that I recognize that sometimes people get burnt out from constantly being reminded of the policies that harm them, or acts of violence against their race. I want this blog to be an escape, for both myself and my followers.

Hate/Trolling: Hateful or negative comments on me or my friend’s content will get your account blocked. This ranges from “ew” to telling them to kill themselves. This behavior is not tolerable anywhere, and the more extreme comments will be reported to Tumblr staff. Comments saying our content is disgusting will automatically tell me you think it’s hot and are in denial. How very sad. I will dedicate my grossest story to you specifically.

Inter-Community Drama: Mob behavior, brigading, witch hunting, call out posts (vague or by name), vitriolic hate and bullying of any type is something that makes me extremely uncomfortable due to having experienced cyberbullying in the past. Making people deactivate, continuing to attack them after apologies and other related behavior will get you blocked no matter the quality of your content, your standing in the community or our relationship history.

I cannot deal with seeing that behavior and it scares me continuing to interact with those that I learn can so easily turn on their friends like that.

That’s All Folks!

#tw mention of abuse #tw mention of self-harm #tw drama #tw politics

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

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Finding You (Part Four of ??)

Hewwo! I am back with another update on my Finding You fic! If you didn’t catch my last mini update (link here), I was having some trouble getting what I wanted onto the page. BUT, I have now figured it out (and have even made the barebone plans for the other brother’s version of this story!).

If you’re just joining us, here is the link for Part One. I would recommend starting there if you want to read this fic (which I would like very much).

Anywho, this update is of a normal length (for me). We’re also jumping forward in time. I realized the first line of this update might seem like a continuation of the scene we had had last with Mc, but it’s not :)

Tag for the peeps: @simpingforsatan and @naimena. (If you want to be on this list, just ask in a comment below!)

F!Mc / Satan

Word Count: 2284 (story under the cut)

Trigger Warnings: None that I can think of

Mc closed the letter, trying to contain her excitement.

“Well, what does it say?”

“Lord Diavolo is specifically asking if I’d consider bringing my show to the Devildom. He has offered the castle as free lodging for as long as I am in the Devildom, which has no expiration!”

“That’s incredible Mc! You’ve never shown in the Devildom have you?”

“Not yet. I went when I was a child, and I really enjoyed it there. After MoMA I was thinking of reaching out to ask if they’d be interested, but then they put the exchange program on hold due to Gabriel’s behavior down there…”

“I still can’t believe he’d act that way.”

“Oh I can. He’s so radicalized I’m surprised he was allowed down there at all.”

“Still…”

“We all know how you feel about Gabriel, Abihail,” Mc teased.

“No! I don’t… I… No!”

Mc raised her eyebrows, but let the topic drop, “The question now is if they’ll let me go down.”

“I’m sure Simeon would be more than happy to let you go down. Luke may not be as… enthusiastic, but he should be proud his little sister was invited to show in the Devildom.”

“They’re not who I’m worried about. I have to go through Michael.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem. He knows how responsible you are. Consider how many times he’s allowed you down to the human realm for a show.”

Mc tried to match Abihail’s excitement, but Michael had gotten weird after Gabriel’s behavior in the Devildom. She reasoned it must have been because he had been the one to send him to the Devildom for the exchange program, though he had acted differently ever since she had gotten back to the Celestial Realm from that trip as a child.

She started reading the books he had recommended, very grateful he had included notes on what he called “trigger warnings” explaining that he knew angels were more sensitive to certain subjects. The books inspired her to become a polymath, though she didn’t learn the term until she was older. Her real expertise was in the arts, painting, drawing, photography, sculpting, poetry, and music among her most recognized accomplishments. She was also skilled in conversation and had at least a basic understanding of most academic subjects, excelling in some.

It was Simeon who suggested she hold her first art show. The show was such a success, Mc found herself inundated with offers from various other angels to showcase her work, some offering to bring her art to the human realm. Such was the environment Mc grew up in, and grow up fast she did. An angel’s physical and mental age were dependent on the angel’s understanding of various things, their age not getting much past what would be considered a human’s prime. Mc was voracious in her learning, and as such, she found herself quickly reaching the maturity she would stay at for the rest of her existence. Luke, not to be shown up by his little sister, also started growing at a crazy rate. In the end, they both ended up reaching maturity at the same time. Once she reached it, she started having shows in the human realm, finding the understanding of humans to be better than a lot of angels at times. Her fellow brothers and sisters were certainly great, but many of them didn’t seem to try to better themselves, and so she found herself drowning in their mundane chatter much of the time. It actually spurred most of the art they loved so much. She had found herself researching the Devildom more and more, wondering what S would think about certain subjects, or how he would react to her art. He had suggested many art books for her to look through, most of them showing he had a great understanding of art; what would he think of her new piece? Did he like classical music? What kind of poetry did he prefer to read? She came back to the list he’d written her many times, trying her best to understand the man who had believed in her enough as a child to expand her world. It made her feel less lonely, a problem that seemed was always going to plague her. It was nice to have another supporter, as she wasn’t getting much support from Michael, though she wasn’t dependent on it.

Though he never outwardly said it, she almost felt like Michael had never approved of her art, unless it was of a landscape or something else just as tame. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand art either, having gone with her to many other art shows and was able to intelligently speak on the art he saw there. It wouldn’t have bugged her as much as it did had he not interjected himself into her life after that trip as much as he had. She’d read many books as she could find trying to understand what was going on with him, causing her to research many different psychological phenomena, but none of it seemed correct. The closest she could find was a very mild form of Mother Hen Syndrome, though even that didn’t seem to accurately describe what was going on. She had never tried to breach the subject of going to the Devildom with Michael, even after he was put in charge of travel between Realms.

When she’d found out about Gabriel’s stunt in the Devildom, she’d figured her chance of going to the Devildom was gone. The exchange program being put on hold confirmed her theory, and even her shows in the human realm were greatly reduced. Though it had been awhile, she had never tried to push to get her shows back, as she knew pushing with Michael rarely worked out the way she wanted it to. Now that she’d been invited down there however, it would be rude to refuse wouldn’t it?

“Why don’t we go and ask him right now? He may have even received a letter from Lord Diavolo himself.” Abihail’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“That might make it so he has to warm up to the idea. Let him come to the conclusion himself…”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll be harder for him to say no if he knows that you want to go.”

“I want ideas on bargaining should he say no though. Never go into battle unprepared.”

“You really feel like this is going to be a battle?” Abihail asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes. You also should stop questioning me all the time.:

“Well, I think the best idea to counter if he says no is inviting him to come with you. That way he can make sure the “reputation of the Celestial Realm remains untainted” or at least helps repair any damage that’s been done.”

“Hmmm… That’s the final bargaining chip then.”

”Honestly, I think it’s the only one you’ll need.”

“Oh no, I’ll need more. Let’s see, why would I want to go?”

“Just be honest. You need more material for inspiration. That’s why you want to go right?”

“Oh, that’s true… Good idea,” Mc complimented, hoping it wasn’t obvious that wasn’t exactly why she wanted to go. It was her cover story when anyone caught her researching the Devildom. It definitely wasn’t for a change of pace or a certain blonde demon who had given her the best life advice she’d ever received. Who had taught her mediocrity wasn’t the only way to live. Nope. Definitely not that.

“Well, there we go. I think you’re set.”

“Nope. I need at least one more bargaining chip.”

“Ugh, what about that Luke goes with you?”

“That’s… Not a terrible idea.”

“Of course it’s not. Will you go talk with Michael now?”

“How serendipitous. I was looking to speak with you Mc,” Michael’s voice came from behind the conversing angels.

“You really need to stop sneaking up on me like that,” Mc exclaimed, her hand over her heart.

“Ah, but it’s so entertaining. Oh, don't look at me like that Mc. Anyways, I do need to talk to you if you’re available.”

“I am,” Mc said, getting up and dusting off her skirt. Abihail gave her a huge thumbs up when Michael’s back was turned.

When the pair was far enough from other people, Michael began speaking without ceremony, “I don’t approve of you going to the Devildom.”

“I figured you wouldn’t. I do want to go though. I need fresh inspiration for my art, and I would like to experience the culture of the Devildom.”

“Why would you want to go down there though?”

“Besides the reasons I already listed? I would like to see where Simeon and Luke spent time through the eyes of an adult. I did enjoy my time there as a child, and I would like to return.”

“Do I need to remind you of the danger you were in last time?”

“I would like to counter that point by reminding you I am an adult now. My powers have fully manifested at this point, and I can fly just as well as anyone else. I have studied multiple different cultures, including the Devildom, which is more than Luke did when he first went down.”

“You allowed a demon to guide you to who knows where.”

“As a child. If you don’t trust me, I am not opposed to Luke joining me down there.”

“I’m still not convinced. I’m just trying to help you make the best decision.”

“I feel, in light of whatever problems Gabriel caused down there, this might help international relations. It seems rude to decline the ruler of the Devildom when I’ve had so many shows in the Human Realm and none in the Devildom, partially because I wasn’t sure if they wanted my work to be shown down there. Now that I have an express invitation to showcase my work, I feel I should take it,” Mc glanced over to Michael’s face and saw it start to harden, and sensing a no on his lips, she pulled out her trump card, “If it makes you feel better, you can definitely come too. That way, you can rest assured that the Celestial Realm is being represented in a positive light.”

The abrupt change in Michael’s face almost made Mc start celebrating. She had him with that last part, she knew she did.

“You wouldn’t be opposed to me joining you?”

“Not if relations between the Devildom are as strained as I’ve been led to believe.”

“Hmmm.. I will need to discuss it with Father, considering my many duties, but… that could work.”

Mc allowed herself a smile, though she really wanted to shout in triumph, “Thank you Michael. I think this will be the next step in my artistic journey.”

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

“Why do I always end up back here?” Luke whined, as he watched out the window.

Mc didn’t give him a response. His denial of how much he actually enjoyed the Devildom was always entertaining to her. She knew he was in almost consistent contact with Barbatos, who she had found out was Diavolo’s butler.

She herself was too excited to talk much in case she let slip just how much she wanted to be down here. Lord Diavolo had been more than welcoming when she had explained she’d have to bring two more in her entourage, allowing them to join her in the castle.

The Devildom seemed much as she remembered it. The neon of all the signs, glowing in the eternal dusk sent her hands into a sketching frenzy, poetry filling the next page or two only to find more sketches further down.

Michael seemed nervous however. Once they had stepped from the portal into the twilight, he had been on edge. Seeing the Nightmare’s that were pulling the carriage that had been sent to deliver them to the castle had certainly frightened him. Mc had only pulled out her camera and started taking photos of them, hoping she had figured out her settings properly. He had been fidgeting the whole carriage ride, the view of the castle only making things worse.

Finally, Mc couldn’t take it anymore, “Michael, are you alright?”

“Heh, of course I’m alright. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Simeon was kind of like this when we first came down to the Devildom for the exchange program,” Luke offered.

“He was?” Michael asked, a tad desperately.

“Yeah. He kept muttering about seeing Lucifer and the others again.”

Michael seemed to take comfort in the knowledge and the rest of the trip up to the castle gates was fairly quiet. Mc really couldn’t understand the fervor that seemed to grip some of the angels when they talked about Lucifer, “Maybe I’ll understand after this trip,” she thought idly, another strain of poetry coming to mind.

“Mc, we’re almost there. You should probably put your notebook and pencils away,” Luke offered.

The first mote of apprehension pricked Mc, her notebook quickly put in her pack, “Does my hair look okay?”

“Yes.”

“Does mine?”

“Yes Michael.”

“You didn’t even look.”

Luke raised his head to look at Michael, “Like I thought. Impeccable.”

“He’s not in a very good mood is he?” Michael whispered to Mc, causing her to giggle.

The carriage came to a stop, and the door opened, revealing an imposing figure in red and a shorter figure in black with green accents. Michael let out an audible breath, and got up from his seat to head towards the door.

“I was right. He’s worried about seeing Lucifer again.”

Mc decided to leave the discussion for a later time, as she wanted her head clear for this meeting.

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

Part 5

#finding you #om! satan #obey me satan #female mc #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me michael #OBEY ME #obey me! swd #obey me!#shall-we-date-obey-me

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kasienda · 4 years

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Too Many WIPs

@mikauzoran tagged me to the List all the Titles of your WIPs Challenge!

And while I’ve been ignoring a lot of Tumblr games lately, apparently I’m absolutely weak for getting the chance to talk about my projects. And since, most of these haven’t seen the light of day... I was really excited!

Published WIPs: Craving for Chocolate Milkshakes (Sailor Moon) - A romantic comedy. Usamamo mind reading trope. It’s ONE chapter away from completion, and that one chapter is 80% there, and just refuses to be fleshed out. But seriously, WHY IS THIS ONE NOT ALREADY DONE?! Restorative Justice - (Miraculous Ladybug) - A Chloé redemption story where she decides to heal the rifts between Ladybug and Chat Noir that have been caused by them not knowing each other’s identities. Pulls heavily from my experience as a teacher trained in restorative justice practices. This story is surprisingly easy to work on at the moment. It’s the only one that cooperates with me! It’s currently got a five chapter outline. Chapter three is mostly done. Just needs to be fleshed out so it’s more than talking heads in a white room. (Dialogue always comes easily to me. The rest of it is hard!) Coming of Age (Sailor Moon) - Loosely based on the Black Moon arc. Neo Queen Serenity has been mortally wounded, and can only be healed by the silver crystal. But no one is old enough to use it! So in a desperate move Chibiusa is sent back in time to be raised by her parents. Not that she knows that they’re her parents. This one hasn’t been updated in a year. I blame fic exchanges (that are all completed now!). But I’m really excited about this next chapter. Like stoked! Invisible Wounds (Sailor Moon) - An AmiZoi medical/senshi drama. Pulls really closely from my personal life as a parent. I also haven’t published an update for this one in like a year. But the next chapter is really close! (I keep saying that! Is it true?)

UnPublished WIPs: Aftermath (Miraculous Ladybug) - Multi chapter dealing with the Aftermath of a Hawkmoth unveiling and defeat. Pre-reveal. Lots of mental health stuff. A story about healing. Chapter one is close. I’m surprised it’s not out yet. Celebrity Status (Miraculous Ladybug) - A multi chapter Ladrien story. Ladybug goes to Adrien for advice about dealing with being famous. They understand one another’s struggles more than they did before. And end up super close! First chapter is close-ish. It’s got like a ten chapter outline. I was originally trying to post it this past June for Ladrien June, but got distracted by other projects and haven’t gone back to it yet. Maybe I’ll shoot to get it out next June. Yin and Yang (Miraculous Ladybug) - I haven’t done all the ridiculous tropes yet. Here I’m playing with a body swap of Adrien and Marinette. It has a similar feel and tone as Chocolate Milkshakes. I’m really having too much fun with it. No where close to seeing the light of day. Matchmaker (Sailor Moon) - When the future utopia is destroyed, Pluto manages to protect Chibiusa from the timeline changes and sends her back in time to fix whatever prevented her parents from meeting and getting together. It’s much harder than the girl anticipates. Mostly exists as two initial opening scenes and then just snippets of Chibiusa getting frustrated with her parents who won’t stop being mean to each other. Motherhood part 4 & 5 (Do those even count as titles? They’ll have titles eventually!). These are Sailor Moon Reveals (sort’ve!) In part 4, Usagi realizes her mother knows and has known for awhile. They get to talk. In part five, Kenji figures it out and has a fight with Ikuko because she kept it from him. I have these outlined blow by blow but haven’t gotten them to fall into place yet. A Bad Day (Ladybug Reveal) - Marinette is having a really bad day. Like akuma worthy bad. And she is just now realizing how strategically horrible that is. This one is SO CLOSE to being done. I don’t know why it isn’t. Infidelity (Ladybug Reveal) - Established Adrinette relationship pre-reveal. Adrien and Marinette get into fights because the other one is lying all the time about where they are. Ladybug and Chat Noir confide in each other about their relationship woes and give each other wonderful advice that help Adrien and Marinette learn to actually communicate with each other! A Letter to my Teenage Self (Ladybug oneshot) - Adult Ladybug full of regret gets thrown back in time with an opportunity to change things, but in talking to her younger self Ladybug finds herself amazed by the young girl before her, and doesn’t want to change a thing about her. This one is just starting to take form. Idea was given to me from my Discord peeps after they asked me what advice I had for my teenage self! Always Enough (Ladybug) - An Adrino story I started like a week ago. I was trying to expand my repertoire by challenging myself to do a non canon relationship. And I love Nino to death and he doesn’t get enough attention. And Adrien is me, so.... I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that 4.5k words in, this became far more autobiographical than I had ever intended.

And honestly, there’s like ten other stories that have been started. But I don’t currently have any active intention of working on them in the near future, so I’ll spare you. And who knows if I will publish all of these either. When I’m stressed, I am not as disciplined about what I’m working on. I just work on what comes. This is not conducive to finishing things, but it is conducive to my mental health.

Anyway, this was fun! I tag @tinacentury, @floraone, @alexseanchai, @ladyofthenoodle, @e-milieeee, @apopcornkernel, @ominousunflower, @chronicallylatetotheparty, @starlingsinclair, and anyone who wants to do it!

No pressure!! (I may have tagged you because I’m selfishly very curious what you’re working on so I know what I have to look forward to maybe at some point! But STILL no pressure!)

#tumblr games #my own content #what I'm working on #life of a writer #fic ideas #Sailor moon fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fan fiction

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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All in the Family

Chapter 83: The Egg and the Eye

They really should have enjoyed those other landings while they hand the chance, as every one of them groaned in painful misery upon impact in the most uncomfortable way possible across hard, cold tile floors. Peter got the worst of it, he landed with an echoing bang upon copper pipes that left the walls themselves vibrating as he finally came to a stop face down in the bathtub beneath.

"Everyone still alive?" James called miserably, rubbing at his head and staring blearily around, but his vision wasn't coming back into focus.

"More or less," Sirius answered as he began looking around for Prongs' glasses.

Remus peeked over the edge to see Peter curling onto his side now, whimpering in pain, several fresh bruises likely to come of it. He hopped down and offered him a comforting pat on the shoulder while performing a minor healing charm to at least help take the edge off the worst of the pain, allowing him to sit upright at least.

Lily had gotten it the easiest, landing on the wooden towel rack and knocking the whole thing over, now tangled up in them. Frank went over to help get her out, while Alice got uneasily to her feet, holding the golden egg curiously.

"Where are we?" Lily demanded as she finally pulled the last, thankfully dry and clean, towel from off her head while Frank tugged the fluffy white one free where it had tangled her legs.

"Prefects bathroom," the lone Prefect of their group answered as he pulled his friend out of, what the others now realized, was indeed a swimming pool sized bathtub.

She looked around with admiration at the grandeur of every gleaming tile, the picture of a mermaid more reminiscent of her youth than any textbook she'd found in this castle, and the diving board as she grudgingly made her way to Potter and handed him his glasses she'd somehow acquired in her mess.

He set them back in place and she immediately regretted her moment of kindness as he beckoned her to follow. "Come here Evans, you're going to love this."

"Last time we ended up in a bathroom it wasn't exactly pleasant," she grumbled as she watched him regardless, bolting right past everyone to the available taps each with a different jewel inset, and turning two on at once.

She, Alice, and Frank edged forward to see one pipe shooting out rainbow glitter, the other had lavender scented, flower shaped bubbles dripping down. Lily knelt and stuck her hand in curiously, to find it the perfect temperature.

"This thing's a damned miracle worker if you need to relax, I've spent ages in here this year before a Quidditch game thanks to Moony sharing the password. Really helps relax the muscles," he said with an open grin at her, she was pretty sure he wasn't even imagining her in the tub yet.

"I'll bet even Snivellus would take a bath in this," Sirius Black muttered from behind his best mate, who laughed in surprise. Lily scowled hatefully and stalked away. James watched her go with an unrepentant smile, he'd never grow tired of her tenacity.

"Passwords Pine Fresh, it never changes," he called to her retreating form.

"You ever think you're taking the wrong approach there," Alice was frowning at the pair of idiots, Potter didn't even seem to realize he'd done anything wrong.

"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it," he said in all cheerfulness.

Frank scowled at the idiot, took Alice's hand, and led her away without argument, joining Lily near the door now, the three of them inspecting the egg with curiosity and discussing if Harry would actually work out the clue in this place like Cedric Diggory had suggested.

James watched the three with longing, he'd love to go over there, take Lily's hand so casually, just shoot the breeze and talk amongst her and her friends all day. He was genuinely happy for her she finally had decent people to talk to, she'd never given herself the chance always hanging around Snivellus, and he hoped it stayed that way. From what he'd known of Smith and Longbottom before all this they were decent people, always stayed on the fringe of classes, but for two purebloods they certainly never got involved in the nastier students he did know of their houses.

He knew if he tried now she'd spurn him again, he really shouldn't have laughed at Sirius' joke and he knew that, but didn't she get that's what it was? A joke? If Padfoot had said the same about Regulus or even himself James would have laughed. She was always so diligent about everything in her life, it was one of the many aspects of why he loved to watch her. The way she always thought through a question so long before answering, she often missed her opportunity in class, she studiously stuck to what she was doing despite his best attempts, be it hanging around a waste of space like Snape or her homework, he only wanted to give her a bit of fun in her life she really needed. She'd get that eventually.

James turned back to see Regulus was trying to pick a fight with Sirius, again. There was another lad who needed more fun in his life, as well as that stick removed from his arse.

"You really don't have anything else to say to him?" Regulus demanded.

"What's there to say?" Sirius forced casualness in his voice without looking up, clearly intent on looking for his favorite tap that would give the foam the consistency of a snowball. "He'd say he could never do it, again, we believe him, I guess, and we move on." His hand was trembling so hard by the end he didn't seem to know which way he was trying to twist the tap anymore, but it wasn't moving regardless. "Guess we'll all find out what's what eventually, yeah?"

Peter and Regulus exchanged an uneasy look. It wasn't a solution as far as they were concerned, Sirius had managed to avoid the question, but it was...progress?

James clucked his tongue and jumped in to stop anything else happening, so long as they were all stuck together he would not rest until he got some enjoyment. "Tell me you lot aren't actually going to spend the entire time we're in here, of all places, talking!"

Then he shucked out of his clothes in record time once more, boxers alone covering him as he dived head long into the water. Sirius grinned and quickly mimicked him, with a cannon ball off the diving board splashing the mermaids painting. The two caused water to immediately start sloshing over the edges as they began a rowdy game of tag.

Peter did not feel like joining them, but he dutifully sat on the edge of the pool next to Remus, who was smiling and laughing at their antics and egging them on. He summoned the book to him, which bizarrely came shooting out of one of the pipes that had yet been turned on, and flipped it open before looking around and seeing Regulus hovering uneasily. He beckoned him over and smiled when he did with only a bit of hesitation. None of them felt up to talking anymore it seemed, and if asked they would have blamed it on how close they hopefully were to discovering Harry's egg clue.

"The Egg and the Eye? What's an eye got to do with this?" Lily shivered in disgust at the idea, wondering for a wild moment if the egg was going to somehow get Harry put in the hospital wing for hurting his eye or something.

"Maybe Moody makes another grand appearance," Frank offered, "helps him out again."

Lily nodded this made sense, admittedly more distracted than she would have liked to admit as she eyed Potter and Black in the pool. It seemed for every step she took to actually try and be civil to him, more in pity than anything for this mess so thoroughly and repeatedly having an affect on him, he took seven back. Reverting back to the same loathsome toerag at the first chance, would the idiot never learn his lesson?

She listened intently as Harry made his way here, enjoyed himself for a few moments with the pool as well, and then nearly had heart failure when Moaning Myrtle appeared. Her popping eyes stayed on the Marauders, none of whom batted an eye at this development. Only little Regulus Black was spluttering in surprise, and he got a mouth full of soapy water from his brother for that before he could say anything.

"Well, this bathroom just lost a bit of appeal," Alice shivered in revulsion as she hugged herself for a moment at the idea of a ghost peeping in on her.

"It's never occurred to me they can just appear in the bathrooms, of anywhere in here," Frank agreed with a grimace. Lily looked around hopefully, and spotted Harry's copy of the Marauders Map. It must have been, as it was several years older than the one she'd seen in said Marauders possession inside Honeydukes, which was currently still in one of their pockets. This one had aged parchment, was crinkled, and dogeared. Yet the enchantment to activate it still worked just as well, and she scanned it carefully now for their place, finally spotting their eight little dots, but not another soul except Mrs. Norris several floors down.

She showed the other two, who only looked slightly less queasy, as that didn't change how often it likely still did happen.

Harry's unendearing encounter with her was almost worth it though, as she helped him work out his clue, and they all listened open mouthed at the mermaid song.

"Damn, that's brilliant," Frank was smiling now at the prospect of hearing this in person but still eyeing the water, and the two rowdy boys in it, without much hope.

James and Sirius had been listening, and were quite pleased at this new development, but now that it had come to pass what Harry would be dealing with, they refused to let it sink down their groups spirits as much as it was Harry's. Yeah, how would he breath underwater for an hour? It was a valid question, and one they could deal with later. For now James heaved himself out of the pool and went padding over to them, but they'd clearly been so distracted they didn't realize any such thing until he said right beside them, "are you really not going to get in?"

Smith dropped the egg in surprise, it did indeed clatter around before opening with a painfully loud racket before he went chasing after it to close it. The three were left with more aggrieved looks than ever on him, so he shrugged and said, "have it your way." Prize now in hand, he jogged back and did a flip into the water.

Sirius waited for no such thing as permission, he'd taken the eggs noisy distraction to swim over to Remus, grab his legs, and jerk him in. He came up trying to splutter curses through the soapy water and swatting at him to Sirius' unrepentant smile. "Now if only we were the only two in here," he whispered into his ear, reaching through the water to squeeze the inside of his thigh before taking off again.

Remus swallowed another mouthful and was now grateful nobody could see below his waist, and the water really was rather warm, that's why his skin was suddenly so flush.

"Well then you two, are you going to have a listen?" James called, pushing his hair out of his face to eye Peter and Regulus, but both had been reexamining the mermaids song and barely looked up long enough to shake their heads they didn't want to get in. "How on Earth did we get saddled into this mess with such boring wankers?" He demanded of Sirius.

"Beats me Prongs," Sirius nodded, before taking a breath and ducking under the water. James quickly followed, and Remus rolled his eyes before acquitting.

By the time they came up, Harry was stuck in the trick stair and witness to the strangest of nighttime scenes even they'd never been privy to.

Lily watched as Potter laughed himself silly at his sons misfortune, then rolled onto his back and began floating peacefully in the water like he could take a nap to the sound of this mess. It infuriated her to no end, Harry could get into so much trouble if he was caught now, did he really not care at all? She reflected back if she'd just seen this back before this mess started she would have thought him the most uncaring heartless person there was, but she knew better now. That was him fidgeting, not just kicking his legs around in the water at the idea of Harry getting caught. He kept dumping his head back into the water and then sitting up and ruffling his hair into messy spikes rather than show his concern why Barty Crouch was so weirdly involved in something to do with Severus' office.

It wasn't as if he was afraid to show any other emotion, like brash carelessness or obnoxiousness, why then did he feel the need to smother such things?

Regulus watched over Peter's shoulder as Moody saved Harry yet again from getting caught by Snape and fixing this mess for him, he couldn't blame the auoror's intensity over the map either when he got his hand on it. While Sirius and his two friends continued splashing each other wildly, with no hope of hearing the warning the chapter was almost over, he reached over and grabbed the two idiots clothes and held them firmly against his chest. He wouldn't wish that mess upon anyone.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #Marauders #wolfstar #Jilly #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #James Potter #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #Lily Evans

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obx-snippets · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 ∫ ≈ Rush Hour and New Friends

Summary: Reina finds herself flustered on her first day of work. And the Pogues make quite the first impression on her when she has to take their order.

Warning: light cursing? That’s about it....

Word count: 3.5k

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!oc

Masterlist

a/n: I probably should have mentioned this in the beginning but this series is a...

SUPER S L O W B U R N.

So enjoy! Feel free to ask to be tagged!

Reina's limbs were growing weak at the speed she was going down the lengthy sidewalk along an empty road. To her dismay, every corner of the island seems to be next to a beach, and the only sound that was able to come at par with the wind muffling her ears was the beating waves. She regretted not bringing her cassette with her; the music would have gone nicely with the Kildare county atmosphere. It might have also helped with her rapid heartbeat, wishing the ocean would just disappear. Nature sprouted from every corner, various people making their way down the opposite sidewalk to shop at different vendors. They seemed relaxed for the most part, but then again, many of them worked for their share, and the mask they wore wasn't fooling Reina. She wore the same one all too often.

Too deep in thought, she nearly missed the sign that read 'the Wreck' and came to a skidding stop, her body slightly jolting forward as she gripped her bike's handlebars. The wind from the ocean brought her hair to blow in her face as she dipped her eyes down to her phone, her GPS reading arrived.

After finding a comfortable place to park her bike, she made her way up a wooden ramp to enter the restaurant's threshold. The closer she got, the slower her pace as she heard a mix of rowdiness coming from inside. It was just her luck that the Wreck was extremely busy and evidently short on staff. Reina heaved around a few people who were waiting in line to be seated. Customers were grumbling among themselves, complaining about how the food had better be the best they've ever tasted if they had to wait that long. It was breakfast hour, and that was when people were the crankiest.

She blew air from her mouth once she made it to the front desk, a few customers muttering how she cut. Smoke from the kitchen just in front of her filled her nostrils, and her eyes brightened with delight. Only two men were hard at work, one with his belly hanging out from his stained white shirt while another tall man with tanned amber skin cutting fruit relentlessly. And with skill.

Reina was enthralled in the dynamic that she hadn't noticed how far she was leaning over the counter to watch everything they were doing. The taller man briefly looked over his shoulder before noticing the ripped paper wedged between her knuckles.

"Hey!" the man called over the spiel going around the crowded restaurant and the clinking of pot being moved about, continuing his cutting on a pineapple. Reina snapped her attention to the man, slightly embarrassed that she had been staring so long. "You Chris and Mina's kid?"

Reina shrugged, "Well technically, stepdaughter but uh--same thing yeah, that's me." she skipped the specifics of it all, not wanting to cause the man's forehead to crease more than it already was. "I uh--I came for the interview..." she looked down at the paper, about to ask about the cooking job when he suddenly advanced toward her.

"You a good cook?" he questioned sternly, almost hopeful. His eyes were desperate, sweat already trickling down his forehead.

"Absolutely," her confident answer came out almost immediately, making the man smile. She would cook all day if it meant not facing the water that was just a few hundred feet away from her. Even over the uproar in the open restaurant, she could still hear the waves taunting her like a dark, menacing laugh.

A toothpick twisting between his lips, he tapped his fingers harshly against the counter, contemplating if he should let a new teenager take part in his kitchen. "Fuck it, get in, kid." he pointed to the other side of the counter for her to enter. He didn't miss the ever-growing smile touching her lips as she hustled around the counter, already pulling her hair into the messiest low bun before washing her hands thoroughly. "Start cracking them eggs and beat 'em'. We got an order waiting at table five."

Reina's whole demeanor changed. She was locked in and moving like a ballerina, careful not to bump into anyone as she veered about to collect seasoning for the eggs. The tall man, which she learned went by the name of Mr. Carrera, watched her intently. All he had to do was tell her the recipe once, and she was already whipping everything up by memory. So much so that she served the waited tables in under an hour. It seemed the frequent customers took notice of the new girl as well; her sweet smile was inviting like she had been doing this her whole life. Reina was known to be more easy-going around adults compared to kids her age. She was the life of the party back in Cali, extremely outgoing and adrenaline-driven. But since the incident, she felt more comfortable being in her own reserved shell.

Mr. Carrera wasn't the only one noticing the girl's natural skill in the kitchen. Kiara Carrera led the way into her father's restaurant, her fellow pogues trailing behind like hungry puppies. Harlow Westwick struggled to keep up as they hadn't waited for her to tie her shoelaces, and she nearly tripped forward before finding her balance again.

"Woof," John B furrowed his brows, sidestepping around a woman as he took in the scene around him, "busy in here today, huh?"

The kids maneuvered their way through the packed dining area, all of their eyes searching for an empty table.

"Hell yeah, it is," Kie responded, her eyebrows stitching together as she caught sight of an unfamiliar raven haired girl in the kitchen.

She knew her dad had set up an interview with someone the other day, but he was never the one to hire and put to work the same day. Her father was very strict about who came in and out of his kitchen and how it was run.

"Found one!" JJ called, running across the floor to get to it before someone else could. He plopped down on a chair, running his ring clad fingers through his blonde locks before placing his red cap backward on his head. Harlow pulled the seat out next to him, flicking his red hat from behind, bringing the boy to quickly catch it before it hit the table.

Kie followed them wordlessly, her eyes still locked on the new cook in the kitchen as curiosity tickled her brain. "Do ya'll know who that is?"

The three boys and Harlow turned to look, all of them shaking their heads in response, a chorus of 'no's' or 'uh huh's' here and there.

Kie pursed her lips, her slender fingers tapping at the wooden chair before she signaled to the guys that she'd be back in a minute and moved towards the kitchen. The girl in question had swiveled around one of the older cooks, trading spots with him as she grabbed a pair of plates off the counter.

"'Scuse me," she smiled with a bow of her head, moving past Kie to put the plates down at one of the tables.

She turned around quickly, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead with a rag before throwing it back over her shoulder.

"What's your name?" Kie questioned, crossing her arms over her orange halter top.

"Uh, Reina," the girl responded, a little confused by the random girl's straightforward inquiry before hurrying back to the kitchen, not giving Kie a chance to say anything else.

Just as the mystery girl - Reina, disappeared back into the kitchen, her father rounded the corner, giving her a nod to assure that he knew her and her friends were there, and they would get their food as quickly as they could get it out. Kie gave him a small smile in return and went back to her table, not before grabbing a stack of paper cups and a jug of water.

"You find out who the new girl is, Kie?" JJ asked, swiping a fry off an empty table.

"Just that her name's Reina," Kiara shrugged, offering the guys a cup and some water.

John B craned his neck to try and spot the dark-haired girl in the kitchen. "I haven't seen her around before," he pointed out.

"You think she's a kook?" Harlow questions, more so to herself as she noticed the seemingly expensive top.

"Maybe she's new," Pope chimes in his suggestion, his eyes fixated on how quickly she moved about the kitchen like muscle memory.

"Who moves to the Outer Banks?" JJ questioned around a mouthful of fries.

"Ew, gross," Kie muttered as her face scrunched up and finally took a seat next to Pope.

The Pogues chattered amongst themselves as customers were in and out of the restaurant. They were so used to sitting there for hours on end that they hadn't realized a difference in the food until it was displayed in front of them.

JJ was the first to mindlessly get a forkful of food into his mouth, suddenly moaning at the taste, pointing aggressively at his plate,

"This is fucking bomb, dog," he mumbled.

Upon seeing the other boy's reaction to the food, Kiara picked up a few eggs off of her plate and stuffed them into her mouth, "Holy shit," her eyes widened, knowing for a fact that this was not her father's cooking. "this is really good."

"Whoever made these needs to cook everything on the menu," Pope chuckled, diving into his fluffy pancakes lovingly.

Harlow was munching happily on her toast, her light brown hair that had recently been dyed two shades lighter at the tips was pulled back into a ponytail. She didn't bother making any comment, too entranced with the powdered sugar that she gladly licked off her fingers before wiping them off on a napkin.

John B peeped up from his plate, his chewing slowing down when he saw how white powder coated Harlow's pink lips. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a napkin and nearly scaring the girl to death when he wipes her lips with his thumb. "Much obliged, JB," Harlow chimed once he finished.

Reina had just finished washing her hands of the sticky juices of fruit when she noticed the group of kids hadn't been served their drinks. It seemed the Wreck was even short on servers. She huffed to herself, already dreading having to interact with them. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before grabbing a paper and pencil that sat on the counter to get their drink order.

"Hey, sorry for the delay on the drinks," Reina apologized when she made it to the table. She grew uncomfortable by how all their eyes bore into her own, and she dropped her attention to the notepad in her hand. "what can I start you off with?"

"I'll take a Sprite, please!" Pope exclaimed, instantly taking notice of the group's surprise in his response.

"Okay," Reina responded, quickly writing down his drink order in her notepad, "for you?"

"I'll take a raspberry ice tea," replied JJ, earning groans from the rest of the table, "with four pumps of the syrup, and only fill the glass halfway with ice so I can stir in my sugar-"

"Oh my gooooood!" groaned Harlow, "why are you so weird, JJ?"

JJ makes a face, "How am I weird? She's asking for my order!"

"Yeah, your drink order, not the secret recipe for a heart attack!"

"You know, what?-"

"What?-"

"Well, maybe if you let me finish my sentence-"

It wasn't long before the entire table erupted in a full-blown argument. Reina stood at the end of their table, brows furrowed, mouth parted. What the fuck..

Her eyes glanced around the packed dining room, her fingers twitching around her pencil. The place was still crowded, and the kitchen seemed to be going up in flames.

"I hate to interrupt, but does anybody else want anything to drink?" Reina spoke over the shouts.

The table quieted immediately, seemingly having forgotten about the girl waiting to take their order. The teens passed around embarrassed looks before the girl who'd come up to Reina earlier spoke.

"Pepsi's are fine."

Reina pursed her lips and gave her a nod before shoving her notepad and pen back into her apron and hurrying away from their table.

"Nice going," Kie snapped, throwing a rolled-up napkin at JJ.

•≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈•

As the day carried by, the restaurant's capacity was waning down to only a few customers an hour. Reina hadn't expected the day to be so eventful. Some adults and teens discerned that she was new to the island and welcomed her before paying her a generous tip. Mr. Carrera was already falling in love with the new girl's cooking and didn't bother telling her she got the job; it was already guaranteed. He told her to have the day to herself tomorrow, and she could come work every other day. Reina would prefer to keep herself busy in the kitchen instead of being forced to explore the island, but she obliged nonetheless.

The seven pm sun was warming Reina's skin as she walked alongside her bike. She decided to take her time heading home, hoping her surprisingly laid back step-parents would say it's too late for her to go to the party at the beach. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore was enough for her jaw to clench, wishing to drown out the sound. For a moment, the wind picked up around her loose hair, and she instinctively let her fingers ghost over the scars on her neck, flashing her back to that night.

•

"Reina, just jump, bro!"

The California moon was set on full display as the stars were barely distinguishable from the colorful, luminescent lights blinding the party at a rich kids' beach house. After Reina's friends informed her of a party being held in the Hamptons, she couldn't refuse. Not when the boy throwing the party was loaded with cash. School was nearly over, and one last party would surely end the year with a bang.

After a few heavy drinks and five shots, Reina found her unbalanced body standing on the highest point of the house's roof. The cold California night air brushed against her skin, but the warmth from her drunken state didn't let goosebumps make an appearance. Her hair was tousled behind her; space buns atop her head, keeping strands from invading her vision. Her black eyeliner was smudged from the excessive wave of laughter that overcame her a couple of hours before, and her chapstick was secured in her back pocket of her shorts in case of a possible make-out session.

"You think I'll make it?" Reina's crazed question was muffled out over the shouting and cheers coaxing her to jump into the vast pool below, and she let one of her bare feet dangle off the edge.

Her brown eyes caught sight of her sweet friend Vanessa, who was acting as a chaperone for the night, glaring up at her through the rims of her blue glasses. "If you're actually asking for a probability, you're insane!" Vanessa yelled.

"C'mon Nessa!" a brunette boy, Dimitri, came tumbling toward the red-headed girl draping his wet arm over her shoulder. His bare upper body smelled of herb and chlorine as his brown hair was swiped back from the pool. "Quit being a killjoy. The jump isn't even that high."

"It's not the jump I'm worried about, ass wipe." Vanessa growled, shoving the boy away from her, "Do you not see how drunk she is? If she even tried to jump, she'll land face-first on the cement."

Even beyond the overpour of music blasting through her ears, Reina heard Vanessa and saw it as a challenge. "Prepare for landing, ladies, and gentlemen!" Reina warned with a playful salute, loud enough for the crowd of teens below to roar out an applaud, making a clear opening for her in the pool.

"Rae, no! Stop!" Vanessa tried lunging for the house, but Dimitri pulled her back by her arm. "I swear to--"

It was too late. Reina opened her arms wide and let gravity take its toll once she leaped from the edge of the roof. She tucked her body into a ball just when she made contact with the water. The music invaded her eardrums, and the white noise muted all the applause from her life-threatening jump.

A wide grin set on full display on her lips brought ease to Vanessa, knowing she wasn't hurt, and she decided to retire into the house, too angry to say another word to her reckless friend. Reina's buns came undone, and her raven hair was dripping down her shoulder as she swiveled around people to exit the pool.

The crisp air made itself known as it nipped on her skin, but it vanished as soon as Dimitri came crashing toward her. Her black bikini top nearly shifted out of place from the boy's abrupt intrusion, but as this was his party, she would let him do whatever. As long as she could find his wallet in the depth of his pool trunks, she was good to go.

Dimitri separated from her and gripped her by the shoulders. "Badass Reina. Fucking hot," he breathed out sporting a smirk, his breath laced with weed.

Reina shrugged innocently, "The roofs not even that high off the ground. It's nothing."

Dimitri rolled his eyes before trailing his hands down her soaked waist and pulled her close enough for his lips to graze over the shell of her ear. "Wanna do a line? I got some of my buddies sellin' here tonight. My treat?"

Reina bit down on her lips, her audacious nature taking root once again. "Bet you can't last more than two lines," she mumbled with natural confidence. Dimitri lifted a brow and nodded leisurely, taking hold of her small hand, lacing it with his own.

"You're on, Bayard."

•

The honking of an obnoxious horn penetrated her thoughts, and Reina whipped her head around to see a VW van slowing down until it made a complete stop.

She was surprised to see the boy from early in the driver's seat with his arm draped out the window. His unruly brown curls sat atop his head, almost looking like a surfer and frat boy at the same time. His sun-kissed skin was radiant under the North Carolina sun, and she realized how handsome the boy really was.

"Hi again," the boy greeted with a casual wave of his hand that was gripping the steering wheel. Reina flashed a tight-lipped smile, nodding in response. She had only realized the girl from earlier on the passenger seat when she poked her head out from over his shoulder.

"Reina yeah?" the girl asked, hopefulness in her tone that she got the name right. Her mocha eyes were squinted from the bright sun behind Reina.

Reia nodded gradually, kicking the metal bar on her bike to let it park. "Yeah..." her tone came out as a question, puzzled that the random girl would make another appearance.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for how we acted today; you had enough on your plate and didn't need to deal with us acting like children."

Reina could hear commotion from the back seat due to the girl's tone directed to a friend of hers.

Reina's rigid shoulders relaxed at her words, taking a step closer to the beat-up van as she ran her hand down her arm. "Oh, no, it's okay. I've dealt with worse," she replied dismissively.

"Still," the girl shrugged before a small smile appeared on her lips, "By the way, I'm Kiara, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other now that you're working at the Wreck."

"You work there too?" Reina asked.

"My dad owns the place." It suddenly made sense why the teenagers strutted in the restaurant like they owned the place.

Kiara's hand stuck outside of the window, waiting for Reina to shake it. She did so wearily, an awkward chuckle leaving her mouth.

"This is John B," the boy driving the van sent her a nod, "and in the back are, Pope, JJ, and Harlow." a mix of greetings was heard from the back.

Pope? Odd name.

"Hi," Reina replied softly. The interaction seems like a simple one, but a storm was brewing in Reina's head.

"We're throwing a party down at the Boneyard - you know where that is?" John B asked, toying with the bandana around his wrist.

Reina pondered for a moment, "Is it that party at the beach I heard about?"

"Kegger!" a male voice corrected her from the back seat, earning an eye roll from Kiara.

"Right yeah, that. Shouldn't be hard to find."

"Great!" Kiara beamed, a bright smile on her face, "you should come! It's gonna be fun!"

Reina parted her lips slightly, not expecting the invitation. "You really don't have to invite me--"

"No, no, seriously. If you're the one who cooked that killer food back at the Wreck, a drink is well deserved." John B licked his lips, waiting for her to respond to his attempt.

Reina wanted to decline almost immediately. But Chris' demand came jogging back to memory. "Make friends!"

"Uh, yeah, okay," Reina nodded nonchalantly as if her brain wasn't exploding at the idea of being so close to the water, "sure."

Her mind wandered the rest of the walk home, thinking up every horrble possibility. When Reina arrived home, she pulled out her cassete from one of her boxes she was yet to unpack and fell on her bed. Her eyes drifted closed, as she tucked the plastic ear buds in her ear and hummed along to work all day

@pogueszn @mdlyncline @cordeliascrown @acvross-the-universe @bricksatanakinswindow

#outer banks #jj maybank #kiara carrera #john b routledge #pope heyward #jj maybank x oc #my ocs #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx #obx netflix #obx cast #jessica henwick

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