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damselofblueroses · 3 years

Text

The Name of the Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Second chapter, the Hunter and the Goddess is out :)

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter 1: The Hunter and the Gazelle

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.

You were excited.

No, it was not the correct word to be used. You were hyperactive, more than your usual self, and God knows that everyone could testify on how hectic your personality was. According to your family and very close friends, you were a walking catastrophe, funny but a fucking tease and potentially dangerous for environment.

And now, as you had been waiting for your flight, you could not manage to even stay still. Your hands were everywhere, you proved yourself again by dismantling your tote bag as poor thing was on your lap and you were playing with it unconsciously.

“Enough.” you heard your companion’s baritone voice tone. “If you will continue like this, you have to buy your belongings again in Japan. Do you have that much money?”

He reached to you and took the bag from your lap. For a second, his fingers brushed your thighs, and you lost your concentration during that fucking second.

Focus! you told yourself.

“I can always lend some money from you.” you cocked one of your eyebrows. “What? Will you bare me from some bucks?”

“Yes.” he was always plain and simple. On the contrary of you. “Unless if it is not a necessary. I am not a guy of sharing.”

What type of guy you are, can you give me a demonstration?

Your trip to Japan made you very excited, but you had to confess at least to yourself in the depts of your mind. What made you frenzied was the presence of your companion.

Doh Kyungsoo.

Your long-term study-buddy. Actually, he was more than a study-buddy, he was a kind of your comfort zone, even though you never express your opinions about him. You have known each other for almost 7 years since the last year of bachelor. Both of you continued your ways in academic world and you were currently being Ph.D. candidates.

To be honest, he never lose his impacts on you. You had a sweet spot for him since almost the beginning of your friendship which made him more than a study-buddy. It did not mean that you were restraining yourself from having dates time to time, but all of them were ended up with the same result.

They were clever and handsome guys, but they were not Doh Kyungsoo.

Sometimes you could not help but wonder, how it would be if you did not meet him as a friend? Could you two manage having a relationship as your best friend, Baekhyun, supported like a bloody zealot? Or one of you would give up as your brother, Jongdae, always believed?

“Hey!” you heard Kyungsoo’s voice and jumped off from the bench. “Come back to your senses or we are going to miss the plane.”

“And you are going to take its money from me.” your murmured inside of your mouth but obliged to what he said by starting to walk. He was generally quiet during flights, but you knew his mouth will not be shut when you will visit the restaurants he wanted to try.

He does not come for Tokyo, he comes for fucking eels, octopuses, or crabs. Kyungsoo and his appetite.

“Naturally.” he approved your words on money, but there was a ghost of smile on his lips. “Since you are the one who became a sleeping beauty.”

Do you think I am beautiful?

This was another problem you had. With Kyungsoo, you were so relaxed, and you felt extremely safe, so you did not need to control yourself as you generally did. Of course, it was a good omen for your friendship, as much as you were sure Kyungsoo never lied to you, it was also a disadvantage on your part, because sometimes you wanted to ask some questions that should be remained in silence.

“If we would be fairy tales,” you smirked. “I would be Belle while you are the Beast.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged his shoulder. “He is a very good guy. I am happy for Belle; she understands the assignment. You would not most probably.”

“Sweetheart, you are slow to catch the signs.” you playfully smacked his shoulder when you reached to the control point. You thought he would be annoyed, but he stopped and seriously gazed at you. You shivered and wondered why he was looking at you like he wanted to say something.

“What?” you inhaled.

“Since when I am slow to catch the signs?” he pressed on every word of his sentence, and to your dismay he used that voice tone, almost a whisper but goddamn strong. “Give me an example.”

You shuttered down, and this was the last problem you had with Kyungsoo, he was the only one who could make your brain stop working especially in times when the occasion calls for full-speed devilish progress. You just stared at him and shrugged your shoulder.

“Eh Soo,” you murmured. “You missed a lot of beautiful girls, right?”

Your response was so weak even to your ears. If Chanyeol, number two best friend of you, could hear your words, he would burst into laughs by hitting everyone beside him. You could imagine Junmyeon’s disgusted face as a plus.

“I did not miss anyone, my dear.” he chuckled. “Let me rephrase, anyone I want just one exception, but exceptions do not ruin the calculation in your famous mindset.”

When he chuckles, you can feel your blood tension rocks your body. His heart shaped lips does something to you, and you do not want to name it.

“Exceptions run the world, Doh.” you tried to push him to elaborate his words a little bit more. “Who is that lucky girl who run away from you?”

“That’s my secret.” he smirked and put his hand onto your waist in order to led you the controller lady. “Show your passport, I do not want to wait here forever.”

Who was the girl he mentioned? You could not help but started to feel anxious, how much you tried to press your instincts and feelings, whenever he mentioned a girl, there would be a dire need of crying in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breathe and followed his instruction. While you were walking into the inside of plane, you struggled with the sudden sadness. You wanted to tear that off yourself, so you reminded yourself the splendid trip ahead you. You found your place and processed to sit down.

“May I help?” Kyungsoo asked you but he already fetched your belongings and placed them correctly. You smiled to him and sat down.

How could you meet someone like him? He was a little bit grumpy sometimes, a person who could give unexpected reactions, but he was reliable, kind, lovely and always thoughtful of his environment. You did not want to lose him. You never want to lose him, on the contrary, you want to keep him in your life until the very end. You could not think a life without Kyungsoo, you always desire him to stay your side.

You were pretty sad, you had to admit, and there was regret. You were regretful on your decision to not go further with him, you wished you could be braver and tell him about your feelings for him. How much you were confused because of him, how many days and nights you spent sleepless because of him. To make the things more complicated, you had zero idea about how he would be responded your confession if you pull yourself together and manage to do. For once, you heard his cousin Minseok talked about you by saying you were very important for Kyungsoo, however you did not know in which extent you were important for him.

You two were always closed to each other, you spent almost 3 or 4 days together, you were living in the same campus, your departments were close to each other. He was a huge part of your life, that’s one of the reasons why you were hopelessly trying to conceal your inappropriate feelings for Kyungsoo. The idea of losing his extremely valuable presence was the only scenario could make you sob.

“Am I the only one who is very uncomfortable?” he whispered to your ear and made your stomach twisted. You could kill him for this, but he was not aware of how he affected you. “You are deadly silent.”

“No, I am just thinking.” you run away from him like an Olympic athlete. “About the trip. I am very excited.”

“If you are,” he flinched your forehead. “You have to talk non-stop. You are silent when something bothers you, what are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, Soo.” you found a smile from somewhere and presented to him. “You know I never find the chance of visiting Japan; I am really overwhelmed.”

“So, speak to me.” he grunted. “Do not act like I am not here.”

“Okey, okey.” you raised your hands to air. “Sorry for that.”

“I start to feel like I am disturbing you.” he turned his head to the Name of the Rosethat he was reading. Umberto Eco, he had a taste for everything of course. “I asked you twice if you are okey with going to Japan with me.”

You could laugh if you were not so tense since he mentioned girls.

“And I told you this is okey, Soo.” you pinched his upper arm. “You are a good companion for trips.”

“Only for trips?” he asked. What the fuck was wrong with Kyungsoo today? He was behaving weird, and his questions made you more baffled. “I thought I am good companion for everything.”

You bit your lips in order to send back the sudden answer you wanted to give. Instead of declaring your ignorance about his performance on everything, you refined your words.

“You are a good friend, Soo and sorry for making you feel unwanted. I am happy you are coming with me.”

“Hm.” he hummed but he did not look like he was satisfied with your answer. You decided to not think about what the heck he wanted to hear, you also turned to your book that you were supposed to read since the departure. At least Pavese helped you to collect your mind till the plane landed in Narita Airport. He helped you while you two took a cab for the way, he was acting like his usual self, so you accused yourself because of searching hidden messages in his questions. You were such an idiot.

“I will be seeing you at dinner.” he waved his hand when you finished the registration process of the hotel you would be staying for the week. You were in front of the elevator. Both of you already decided to take a nap before dinner when you were planning the trip, so you approved his words and took your keys.

“See you.” you smiled and walked to your room. When you opened the door, your smile widened, the room is so light and minimalistic as you really liked. There was no crowded furniture, crazy designs, or unnecessary modifications. The walls were light blue, the furniture was white, and all looked very harmonious. There were plants and flowers, you immediately run to the flowers as you loved them more than anything else. The hotel staff managed to place even Sakura blossoms into the room that made your heart flattered and smoothed your nerves.

And there was only one blue rose, which was your favourite flower in the world. Just one, between a bouquet of daisies and it looked magnificent. You leaned to smell it while smiling as a little freak. You did not have to see your face; you knew how you looked like. Chanyeol always said that when you see a blue rose, you lost your shit. Another creature made you drunk in happiness was white butterflies. You had a sweet spot for blue roses and white butterflies.

And for Kyungsoo.

You grunted to yourself in your mind, and you headed to the bathroom by tapping your feet to the ground harshly. You were done with your obsession with Kyungsoo, it became something out of control, and you were tired of yourself at this point.

You had to live your goddamn life, you had to stop fucking fantasizing about your study-buddy.

You stripped out from your clothes and jumped into the shower. Cold water helped you to take the control of yourself, both as physical and emotional. You were okey, you were in bloody Japan as you always wanted, and you were going to fucking enjoy it. After shower, you threw yourself into the bed, tucked yourself inside the blanket and set the alarm for one hour later.

After one hour, you were swearing at yourself with your very glorious vocabulary because the only thing you did was fantasizing about Doh Kyungsoo.

“Did you rest?” he asked to you while you were leaving the hotel. You held your growl inside. “Did you take a nap?”

“I did not sleep but I leaned down for a while, so it was good. You?”

“I slept like a baby. It was very interesting when you think I am more like an insomniac.”

“I guess, your insomnia is rubbing on me.” you grumbled. “Where are we going now?”

“Eh, at least something about me can rub on you.” he rolled his eyes, your chin was dropped due to his response. “There is a tiny noodle restaurant in Ebisu, but they are very famous. We are going to there.”

“Okey.” you nod and walked beside of him.

“You look very pretty.” he turned to you. “That dress looked very good on you.”

You instantly took a look on your navy, long dress. It was very comfortable, but also elegant and your fashion freak cousin persuaded you the colour and style gave you a

“Thank you.” you replied. “Sehun chose this for me, you know he is the chef kiss when it comes to fashion.”

“He did well.” he smiled. “How is Sehun by the way, I did not see him since ages. Did he come back from France?”

“No.” you pouted. You really missed your noisy cousin. “He just came to visit for a week, then came back to school. I am not sure if he will come back to be honest, he got some important invitations from European universities.”

“Very good.” Kyungsoo’s face was lit up. He was proud of Sehun. “I know you miss him, but he has a bright career ahead of him.”

“Yes, I know.” you also smiled. Thinking about your successful but extremely playful cousin made you happy. “I just worry about him.”

“Stop babying him.” Kyungsoo punched your arm as half serious half joke. “How old is he, 27?”

“Yeah.” you laughed. “I know I baby him very much, but we all do, Kyungsoo.”

“You are just one year older than Sehun.” he smirked. “Who is going to baby you?”

“Chanyeol.” you exhaled. Kyungsoo looked at you for a second, then both of you burst into laughs because it was well known that you also took care of Chanyeol and Baekhyun as well as Sehun. “Jokes aside, I am a strong and big girl, Kyungsoo, I do not need someone babying me.”

“Maybe you can start looking for a sugar daddy to baby you?” he cocked his eyebrows to you. “Before it is going to be too late?”

“Actually, I had some candidates in my pocket.” you devilishly beamed to him. “You have no idea.”

“Beg your pardon?” his face suddenly transformed from joy to deadpanned seriousness, and his smile was disappeared immediately. “I was joking.”

“I was not.” you blinked your eye. “Some people really proposed to me.”

“For being your sugar daddy?”

“I know I am very little in your eyes, Kyungsoo” you took a deep breathe before continuing. “But here the breaking news: some people could find me attractive.”

“We are not talk about usual dates or men.” he held your arm and turned you to himself. “If you receive this kind of proposes, you have to tell me.”

“Next time, I will report you so we can decide who is going to be my sugar daddy.” you poked his ribs while he burrowed his eyebrows and radiated a strong sense of discontent. “Come on Kyungsoo, I am not going to say yes to this type of proposes, what do you think about me?”

“We are always joking about this issue,” he looked like he was cursing beneath his breath. “But when it comes to you and Baekhyun, I always suspect if you are serious or not.”

“Sugar daddy is a joke.” you hissed. “Of course, it is a joke, I have no interest in having a sugar daddy.”

“What about the proposes? Are they real?”

“Well, they are.” you murmured. Suddenly, you felt like the table was turned and you just played your ace card too early. You felt like Kyungsoo’s eyes investigated your soul to the bits.

“How many?”

“Three.” you gave up. “One from faculty, two from outside.”

“Unethical son of bitches.” he lowly cursed and caught you off guard because he generally preferred to use more polite words, even if he was cursing. “Keep them away from yourself.”

“Oh really?” you teased him by hoping to break the strange tension between you and managed to put a little smile on his face.

“Stop mocking me.” he warned you but now he was smiling widely. His mouth became a heart again, this time you averted your eyes from his face.

“Who I am to dare mocking you?” you squeaked but it was fake.

“Oh, you mock me more than even that walking noisy machine Baekhyun.” he flicked his hand. “We have to stop at this station, Ebisu Garden Place is on the way.”

He put his hand onto your waist again, and you felt like electrocuted again. Every time he touched you, and unfortunately, he sporadically did, you felt like you are dying for more. More what? You were not sure what you really wanted from Kyungsoo, but you were certain on you were desperate for more of him.

More of him.

The bus was crowded, Kyungsoo led you to a little corner, and stayed in front of you. He could be a little bit protective when it came to crowded places since you were clumsy, he generally insisted to keep you close to himself in order to catch you, if you would lose your balance, so you did not surprise when he held your wrist.

What made your heart to do a perfect all kill type of somersault was his next move, his fingers did not stop on your wrist, on the contrary they moved into your palm and grasped your hand tightly. You raised your eyes to him, he never hold your hand, never ever.

“I want to be sure.” he whispered by catching your question before you ask. “Since both of us do not know the way, and the bus is full of passengers, this is more secure.”

“Ah.” This was the best of you at the moment. You quickly realized what the heck you said but Kyungsoo sometimes can be quicker than you.

“Why? Are you unsatisfied with the reason?” His dark brown eyes were shining, his perfume smelled fucking good and the proximity between your faces did not help you.

“Why should I be?” you had to be back to play as soon as possible. “I grant you the chance of holding my hand, that’s count as charity.”

He looked at your hand for a moment, and you saw a smile formed on his lips and instead of a sarcastic reply as you expected, his eyes shaped like a crescent and shined as the fucking moon itself during a cloudless, navy night.

“Thank you, your highness.” he genuinely smiled. “May I continue to hold your hand?”

“Why?” the tone of your question was full of surprise, sounded exceptionally strange.

“Because I want to feel you.” he simply answered, and he squeezed your hand a little bit more. “For once let me feel you by my side.”

You knew that your eyes blown up, your mind was playing some tricky and dangerous games with you, you lost your shit, and you were sure about you finally made yourself mad because of your platonic interest in Kyungsoo, but even if God himself would appear in the bus in order to stop you, that would be a fruitless attempt.

You held Kyungsoo’s hand.

If he wanted to feel you by his side, you could not refuse.

You never refuse Kyungsoo.

How could you?

He was the protagonist of your secret dreams, fantasies and your goddam powerful imagination.

He was your gazelle and you were chasing him since the first day you met.

#doh kyungsoo #do kyungsoo #exo #exo d.o.#d.o. solo #empathy #kyungsoo #weareoneexo #exo fanfic #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo fanfic #d.o.#exo smut #exo series #d.o. exo #kyungsoo x reader #d.o. empathy

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babysizedfics · 3 years

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hey! i just wanted to pop by and say that i love your blog loads 🥺🥺 also, i have a question! does roman ever give vee tickles? when they’re big OR small? 💗

aaawW thank u so much for saying so !!

heads up i accidentally made this a ficlet halfway through lol

warning for tickling and teasing

and YES roman tickles vee a lot hsjshdhs you see it on the ic blog quite a lot - if they're hanging out they are actually pretty touchy feely. even when big vee usually ends up in romans lap and he will purposefully be cheeky because he knows roman ends up tickling him as revenge jdhds

just yesterday roman was holding the video game controller out of reach of virgil and fondly teasing him abt being too short to reach it, so vee twisted his septum piercing with his tongue to freak roman out. roman is very grossed out by things easily and dropped the controller to get vee to stop

vee started playing the video game, still sitting in romans lap with a smug smile on his little face... but he was kinda disappointed roman didn't put up more of a (tickle) fight.

so he licked romans cheek

roman freaked out, went to scrub his cheek withm soap, compained on the blog about vee being gross and 'baby snot on his face', then vee just denied it all (purposefully being cheeky to try to get roman to retaliate) until roman started chasing him for revenge

they ended up in virgils room with roman pinning him to the floor. virgil THOUGHT roman was going to lick his cheeks back, but instead roman asked him to admit he did it. virgil denied it and roman started wiggling a finger under his ear

vee squeaked and a giggle escaped

"admit it!" roman demanded

of cours vee knew what would happen if he didnt. so: "no, im innocent!"

then romans other hand circled a finger around the side of his ribs. virgil gasped and started giggling constantly and wriggling under roman

"Last chance, vee-vee!" roman warns with eyebrows raised and a big smile

virgils gigges are squeaky and breathless already, he really is too sensitive for a lot of tickling. but he meets romans eyes for a brief second before they fall shut with another gasp when romans finger brushes a particularly bad tickle spot. "n-no-ho" virgil protests... then he licks his deptum piercing again just to add fuel to the fire

roman cries out in disgust then immediately starts scribbling both his hands quickly over the sides of virgils.

virgil screams and bucks and gasps and blushes so hard

at this point logan appears in the doorway to check what is happening

"h-help, lo-ho" virgil pleads, eyes watering and cheeks aching from laughing so much

"no, don't help Lo!" roman argues, chuckling at vee and kindly slowing his fingers enough to give vee room to breathe between giggles "this is justice for a heinous act!"

logan sniffs in amusement, "well i am not one to stand in the way of justice"

virgils eyes fly open and land on logan "no! pl-hee-he-ease, M-ha-Mama!"

hearing vee call logan mama immediately makes roman stop his fingers, because if vee is starting to regress theres no way he would enjoy such intense tickling

logan steps closer and leans down to better speak to vee. "are you alright, little one?" he asks in a very babytalk voice, then roman stops pinning him and pinches his cheek a little

"hi vee-vee, do you feel tiny?"

and virgil goess BRIGHT RED because he isnt regressing at all, he just used the Mama card to try to get logan to feel sorry for him. he covers his face with his hands and shakes his head and mumbles through his fingers "not little, sorry... just wanted.."

the other two frown. "wanted what, virgil" logan asks.

"do you want me to stop?" roman asks sincerely

virgil wriggles on the floor a little and pulls his hand down from his face enough to chew his thumbnail and reveal one eye and one very pink cheek "no.. just wanted, um... attention" he admits quietly

roman immediately lights up "Ohhhhhh-"

vee whines and covers his face again. roman takes his hands and pulls them away. "let me get this right... did you want more teases?"

vee's silence speaks loudly

"oh my god youre insatiable" roman laughs, but before virgil has time to feel insecure about it roman's fingers start teasing at his ribs again

"i think you have this under control," logan chuckles, then leaves.

"so teasing how tiny you are earier wasn't enough?" roman muses, his fingernails tracing lightly over each individual rib. virgil holds his lips tight to contain a squeal, but it just comes out as a highpitched whimper. "its not enough to just tease how your little arms can't reach when i hold a controller above my head?"

virgil cant respond because one of romans fingers is back under his ear and tickling right under his earlobe and making him titter and squirm

"and i dont think its enough to tease what an itty bitty widdle baby you are, either," roman says in a babytalk voice, laughing when vee whines and tries to hide his red cheeks but then roman pokes his tummy teasingly and vee immediately drops his hands to his tummy protectively. "because we all know what a tiny little cutie you are, with your baby bottles and pacis and your diapers"

"ro-ah!" virgil tried to protest but romans fingers went for the sides of his tummy and all he can do is gasp and wriggle and giggle and hope his cheeks dont catch fire with how much theyre burning

"so i think we'll just stick with teasing you... for how much you love being teased" roman says confidently

"nooo" virgil whines between breathless laughter

"yes, vee-vee" roman laughs. he's drawing little spirals over vee's sides now and it's making vee writhe and squeal

"you love the teases sooo much, how adorable is that, huh?" romans fingers slow down and atart tiptoeing over vee's ribs one by one like theyre stepping stones

vee gasps in a deep breath and lets himself calm down, all while squeaking and smiling so hard

"you pretend to not like it when we tease you for being the shortest, but everytime you get the biggest smile!" romans fingers go up so one wriggles under his ear again and one scribbles at his cheek. vee squeals and shakes his head

"no?!" roman gasps dramatically, "aw, but it's true vee! youre tiny and you love it! and you cant hide it anymore with those cute dimples popping out and your squeaky laughter whenever i hold something out of reach..."

virgils far gone from talking now. he's a flustered giggly mess

"hm and what about how much you love tickles? thats pretty adorable too you know" romans fingers go back to his ribs to circle around slowly and vee instantly curls up, legs bent up to his chest and accidentally trapping romans fingers there

"see!" roman laughs "you love being tickle tickle tickled so much you wont let me take my hands away!" he scribbles his fingers quickly now and vee squeals and rocks on the floor and gasps but his legs still hold romans hands there.

"n-n-no d-doh-ho--"

"no you don't?" roman guesses and virgil nods, eyes squint shut tight with laughter. "yes you do~" roman teases with a sing song babytalk voice. it makes virgils chest feel melty. "you love the tickles vee! Little vee is a little tickly cutie, aren't you?~"

virgil squeaks and gasps. romans fingers slow down and vee breathes through his giggles for a few moments. he's getting to his limit now

"cmon, vee~" roman sings and wiggles his hand sout from between virgils chest and knees. virgil squeals even tho roman wasnt trying to tickle him. roman laughs "if you admit you love teases and tickles then i'll stop"

it takes a couple of minutes for vee to be ready - both because he is so breathless and he keeps getting interrupted by giggle fits even though roman isnt touching him anymore, which just makes roman laugh too - but eventually virgil opens his eyes, squinting past tears of laughter and not bothering to hide his hot cheeks anymore and admits under his breath "i- i um i like being... teased and - and tickled"

"yeah you do" roman agrees with a big smug smile, then he gets up and helps pull vee up from the floor - vee's knees are wobbly and he collapses a little into roman when he is standing and they both laugh and roman keeps an arm around vee's shoulders when they go back to his room to carry on with the video game.

"that wasnt too much, was it?" roman asks a bit meekly after several minute of gameplay.

virgil looks iver to him and sees he refuses to take his eyes off the screen. romans fingers are fidgeting a bit with the controller even though its a cutscene on the screen.

"no," vee whispers, then lets himself wiggle back into romans lap like they'd been before. he looks at the screen as well and breathes deeply when romans arms circle around him. he feels secure and safe in his big brothers lap. "it was perfect" he admits quietly, stroking his fingers over romans arms

#im WOW i did not expect a sort of concept / ficlet for this ajsjhdhsh #thank you anon!!#fam ily tickles #little/big concepts #little/big ficlets #asks #anon #lee virgil #ler roman #ts tickle fic

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 1) Preparations

The MC doesn’t play a major role here, because there’s not much role to play. But she has a lot to say and lots of THOUGHTS.

The book is funny and I’ve kept the humor of the original novel. I also like that the MC here has a genuine sense of humor that makes her likeable and relatable to the rest of the boys.

ENJOY

There are several luxurious private rooms on the third floor of the Takamagahara for private party guests, and the spending amount is, of course, much higher than the card seats on the first floor. A guest can't go to the third floor without throwing a few million yen a night.

The music inside the room where Chu Zihang and Caesar were hosting was deafening. You knock loudly to be heard.

"Little Sister, is that you? Don't come in!" Lu Mingfei yelled from inside. He sounds breathless, panting. In fact, when you press your ear to the door, all you hear is his heavy breathing and grunting from physical exertion. Your heart beats faster and your cheeks flush as your imagination runs wild with what must be happening. You back away from the door. You've been up to your ears in man-meat for hours so it wasn't a stretch to conjure images of Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei embracing passionately. Poor Nono. Surely Caesar wouldn't be unfaithful to her, right? You bring your fist to your lips and your heart squeezes in sympathy.

The door swings open and Caesar appears. He's stripped down to his underwear. Your eyes snap to the gentle curve of Caesar’s crotch, which, in your alcohol-addled mind, seemed to bulge out to enormous proportions!

He grabs your arm and drags you inside, slamming the door behind you.

Women were lying side by side on the floor, their dresses in disarray. Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang are breaking a sweat to drag all the bodies around.

“What do you need me to do?” You stammer and glance away. Were you going to end up on the floor too?

“Just wait until we’re finished. How was your time downstairs? You seem a little tipsy. How much did you drink?” Caesar picked up a woman and settled her gently back on the couch.

“I’m not sure. I think someone kept refilling my cup.” You twine your fingers. You can't turn around and look at him in his skivvies. Nono would probably laugh at you and the rest of the girls in the Student Union might resort to mob violence!

Lu Mingfei hissed. “What? That’s awful! Someone should do something about that! Those brutes didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

You shake your head. The room tilts and you try to hide it and the fact that youre suddenly breathless. “No, nothing like that. They were just… um… Are those women drugged?” You change the subject as the memories of the physical proximity of Diamond's and Chance's lips to yours, Calypso’s unopened rose and Armani’s lustful glare spring back to mind and combine with Caesar's sudden full frontal to create a sexual kaleidoscope you couldn’t handle.

"Strong sleeping pills plus strong alcohol. They have to sleep at least until tomorrow morning." Caesar shook a small pill bottle.

“Isn’t that a little dangerous? Sounds like a great way to make them sleep forever!” You recalled heroin and vodka was strictly forbidden because combined someone could easily commit suicide.

“I made sure it was alright.” Chu Zihang said, straightening a girl’s skirt. "We have about eight hours between now and tomorrow morning, enough time to get to and from Genji Heavy Industries. We ordered enough champagne before we came in so that no waiter would come in to check on us during that time. And these women were so drunk before they arrived, they won't remember what happened tonight."

He straightened his back and moved to the next. “By the way, did you give out any Star-flower tickets? I would have watched but, as you can see, I had to work.”

“No… no tickets.”

“Little Sister’s purity is as strong as Fort Knox! I’m so happy!” Lu Mingfei sighed with relief. “Don't worry, we’ll be out of here before anything happens!”

“That’s a good strategy in any case. You don’t want to show your favor to anyone in the first episode…” Chu Zihang gave a sage nod and moved to the next lady.

Lu Mingfei bristled. “What kind of lewd advice are you giving, Senior Brother?”

“So what’s the plan for the Genji Building?” You ask. You calm down and feel tired and tense, but seeing them working so hard despite having one of the busiest nights at Takamagahara was inspiring. The couches looked soft and inviting but you wouldn’t look weak in front of them so you continue to stand and try to look energetic.

"Uncover the skeletons in Hydra’s closet. And while we’re there, blow shit up." Caesar lit a cigar, the firelight illuminating the colored makeup on his face.

"There are 15 pounds of C4 explosives in the equipment box, is that enough?" Chu Zihang took out a packet of Play-Doh-like stuff from the box.

You recognize the packets. They’re dark green and can be arbitrarily pinched into any shape. They are easy to carry and easy to use. As the world's worst terrorists, according to Hydra, C4 plastic explosives would fit your needs.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing with explosives out? We are turning into the kind of people on the wanted list step by step!" Lu Mingfei exclaimed.

"We are wanted by the police department for smuggling nuclear fuel, terrorist attacks and raping young girls. As long as we don't do that last thing, we're not on the wanted list yet." Caesar fastened the leather sheath of the Dictator on the outside of his thigh, the Desert Eagle in the holsters on both ribs, and the eight magazines filled with Frigga bullets on the side of his waist, "It won’t be that bad. Chu and I are just going to blow up Kaguya's storage core. Kaguya is the first line of defense for the Hydra Clan. We blow it up and Hydra will go blind. Norma can take advantage of the opportunity to regain control of the network within Japan."

“Caesar?” You ask.

“Yes, hun?”

“Am I also wanted for raping girls?” You give a dry smile.

He shoots you a genuine grin and snorts.

"Do not rush to change clothes, we have to leave some evidence." Chu Zihang said.

"Almost forgot." Caesar took off his weapons and re-dressed in the slim purple suit, "Good thing I didn't take off my makeup."

Chu Zihang fished out a cell phone from a guest's bag and handed it to you. “Here, take our picture.”

“Got it.” You say.

Caesar sat down on the sofa, dragged a woman to his side and pressed her to his body. He stuffed a microphone in her hand, and took a microphone himself, as if he was singing.

Then Chu Zihang sat in the middle of the guests wearing a conical hat singing birthday songs, and Lu Mingfei pretended to accompany guests drinking and playing craps. Chu Zihang and Caesar pantomimed topless arm wrestling.

For each photo, Chu Zihang and Caesar adjust the phone time, so that the guests will wake up and, after checking their phones, they’ll think they spent an unforgettable night with the beautiful boys! But, unfortunately, they can't remember any details because they drank too much and can only imagine. Looking at the phones, you’re filled with a sad sort of regret that the boys actually didn’t have fun like this.

Lu Mingfei is full of panic, "If these photos leak out our reputation is finished! But we didn't do anything at all!"

"MC, help me check the fuses on this C4.”

You scurry over without hesitation. Caesar leans in close to you. “You know about this too, huh? First shooting, now explosives…?” He says with a grin.

“I can hotwire a car… or I used to be able to. Not sure if I can do it with the newer models. I can’t fly a plane though.” You look up at him. “I’ll be the cutest little terrorist right?”

“Are you hearing anything I’m saying?!” Mingfei whines.

“Are you sad because you didn’t do anything, but you now have a bad reputation?" Caesar looks bored. "Then do you want me and Chu Zihang to go out and wait for you for a while, so you can earn your bad rep?"

"Bullshit! From now on I'm going to fight alongside you guys every step of the way! You guys aren’t going to leave me to take the blame alone!"

Caesar hands you a bundle of clothing. “Here. Put these on and get ready to go.”

You take them and quickly duck behind the couches, pulling your dress over your head and slipping out of your heels. You unfold a skintight black bodysuit that fits you near perfectly and a trench coat with the splendid Ukiyo-E on the lining, made to look like they are from the Japanese Executive Department.

“Here. Don’t use them all at once.” Caesar draped a belt with a pistol holster and pouches of ammunition over the couch. Your heart warms at the side of this deadly weaponry more than the rose of Calypso. You were finally being trusted with a gun.

When you step back around, you're fully equipped. Your tired haze is gone and your mind is only on the mission again.

Chu Zihang put his sword on his back, slipped into a black trench coat and screwed a black baseball cap on his head. Caesar is also in a black trench coat and was covering his face in dark makeup to conceal his fair skin.

"Isn’t it a little too risky? We can barely speak Japanese. How are we going to impersonate the Executive Board? People just have to ask us something complicated and we'll be exposed!" Lu Mingfei said.

“I know it’s hard but you could try keeping your mouth shut…” You grumble, screwing on the belt. Just putting on these dangerous weapons brought you away from the Takamagahara summer of love to the cold winter of Siberia.

"MC, be nice…” Caesar chided.

“Of course we can't break in. Genji Heavy Industries is a heavily fortified building, as tight as the Japanese Self Defense Force headquarters. Caesar and I spent a few days researching. It is a general office building from the first floor to the twentieth floor, and above the twentieth floor is the office area used by the Hydra. Access is by access card, and there are security guards patrolling. Those security guards are all armed. Even wearing the clothes of the Executive Board, an unfamiliar face may be questioned. Not to mention, that without the help of Norma, I cannot make access cards." Chu Zihang spread out a hand-drawn map, "The only possibility is to sneak in from the sewers and enter the so-called 'inner district'. There is no access control system in the inner district."

You remembered that they had taken the elevator down below ground when you visited the Genji Heavy Industries and you saw the huge sewer system in Tokyo. The submarine dock of the Iwarui Institute was located in a giant twelve-meter diameter pipe.

“Shouldn't the inner district have a tighter security network than outside?" Lu Mingfei looked completely unsure.

You’re not confident either. Looking at the map, with only one way in and one way out, you get the sense that the moment something goes wrong, you’re going to be trapped inside with the enemy. The pipe was deep and led to the ocean. Given the volcanic activity down there, if you had an opportunity to use your soul skill you might be able to open an alternate tunnel like a lava tube to escape or even block this pipe with lava on the way out. The problem is your Soul Skill is not instantaneous.

"No one knows what the security system in the inner zone is, but at least we can avoid the people coming and going by going through the inner zone passage." The map Chu Zihang drew by hand was a map of the sewer system in Shinjuku district. His finger moved along the spider web of sewer pipes, "There's a sewer right below Takamagahara. We'll follow it east, bypass under the Shinjuku subway station, and shortly after entering the main channel, we'll see Genji Heavy Industries. Total length is two kilometers."

"It’s like we’re just going to wing it right? But come on, This isn’t some My Little Pony Ride. Genji Heavy Industries is like a rushing river, we'll be up a creek if we make one misstep."

"How can we know if we don't try? If we get caught, we’ll kill our way out." Caesar said gently.

"Hey! Of course you two Robocops can easily kill out! Have you considered that there are still civilized and weak students in the team?”

“Mingfei,” You say softly. He looks over at you, genuinely frightened. "You think I'm weak? Who has the biggest body count for this mission?"

“Little Sister, how can you smile in such a situation. Have you lost your mind? You of all people should be on my side…”

“Don’t you remember what I did in the streets of Chizuru?”

Mingfei frowned, recalling how you killed over and over. “But it’s not right for you to be doing things like that.”

Chu Zihang confirms your assumption. “Her Soul Skill is the first one that I’ve witnessed that is truly S-Grade.” Chu Zihang rolled up the map. “Her control of it is impressive. Her ability to misshape the earth will help us find a way out by creating a new tunnel underground if necessary, and we have scouted several promising escape routes. Not only that, Royal Fire could take down the Internet Cafe’s wooden structure, but it wouldn’t be able to shift the Genji Heavy Industries building. But her ability is likely to do it. Right, MC?”

You nod gravely.

“If it comes to that, we can threaten the entire building. They were extra proud of that building and probably wouldn't want to lose it in a tragic earthquake..” Caesar smirks.

“I still don’t like it.”

"Then you'd better stay and take care of the girls. Watching over a dozen unclothed and sleeping women alone in a room late at night is a job for a frail scholar, right?" Caesar shrugged.

"Am I such an unkind and unrighteous person? Can I watch you two go into the dragon's den and wait here by myself? Don't answer that. Just give me a gun!" Lu Mingfei was once again bold and firm, though he gave an owlish glance at the women.

"Very well! We in the Student Council never back down from a fight!" Caesar drew out a heavy Beretta 92FS and threw it to Lu Mingfei, "I”ve been waiting to give this to you. Thirteen-round magazine, the first nine rounds are Frigga anesthesia ammunition. The back four rounds are specially designed to deal with dragons. Mercury core, blunt armor-piercing ammunition. Don't use that kind of bullets against humans or hybrids. Although mercury is not that deadly to humans, it’s troublesome after contamination, and the armor-breaking warheads will leave penetrating wounds on ordinary bodies.”

"Will there be any dragons in the Genji Heavy Industry?" Lu Mingfei thrust his gun into his back waist, "I say just load them all up with Frigga tranquilizer rounds."

“MC was the last witness to Lenin's last voyage when a dragon embryo was sunk in a Japanese trench. They tried to kill her once before to hide what happened that day. The Japanese Hydra leader speaks with the same Russian Accent as the MC and then turns on the Academy as soon as he thinks we’re dead at the bottom of the sea? And then tries their hardest to capture us in Chizuru? And now tries to pin us down in Japan…”

Caesar looks down at you. “MC… you were invited on this mission for a reason. I intend to find out why. I think they’re after you… more than they are after us.”

#Dragon Raja

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terminally-karkalicious · 3 years

Note

allow me to rant about the only thing that has been in my brain for the past two months and that is doll customizing babeyyyyy

i know there’s a 90% chance that you wont give a Shit about any of this but here we go anyways

SO first you gotta choose a doll. preferably one with a high range of motion to avoid creating new joints or having annoying limitations like not having elbow joints for some fucking reason. what the fuck mattel. give monster high dolls back their ball jointed shoulders and elbow joints. smh

the most common dolls ive seen used as bases are monster high and ever after high. most customs ive seen are highly stylized so the stylized face molds work well for those types of dolls but dolls like barbies are good for when you want a more realistic face-ups.

once you’ve got your base picked out you gotta wipe that bitch’s face off with like. acetone or nail polish remover or something strong like that. you can also use acetone to shrink doll heads which is cool as hell imo. n e way once the face is wiped you gotta chop off the hair and remove the hair plugs from the inside. ive seen this done several ways but the easiest and most common way ive seen is to dunk the head into boiling water for ~30 seconds until it gets squishy and malleable. once you’ve got the head back, you can use pliers (i think tweezers would work in a pinch) to pull out the hair plugs which are kinda icky because theyre covered in glue and other gross shit. ew

now you must decapitate the doll. dunk em back in the boiling water to soften them back up then just tug the head off. the neck pegs look funky and are usually a different color than the body so thats cool ig

once the head’s off, you can start the face-up which is basically just giving the doll a new face using stuff like watercolor pencils, acrylic paint, gouache, and a whole lot of other stuff. hell ive seen people use person makeup on these dolls.

next,,,,, hair. there’s about twenty million ways to do hair from gluing yarn wefts to sewing to rerooting with purchased nylon doll hair or yarn wefts but i’m gonna talk about the most common one ive seen which is rerooting and gluing.

before you can reroot, you need doll hair. which, as i mentioned, can be bought at stores like the doll planet or made at home with yarn in literally any color. have fun with it! make rainbow hair or something idk

to make homemade wefts, you take some acrylic yarn, cut it twice as long as you want the hair to be (keep in mind you can cut and style the hair once it’s been rerooted), fold them in half, and tie it to something sturdy like a wire coat hanger for the next step.

once you’ve got your yarn tied to your hanger, use a pet brush and brush the yarn until it’s wispy and looks like hair. then take a straightening iron and iron the weft flat. then remove from the hanger and boom. hair wefts. ta-da

to reroot the wefts onto the head, use a rerooting tool (which can be as simple as a needle with the eye cut at angle) (just google it please i’m shit at descriptions)) to poke small sections of the hair into the head. you can use the pre-existing rooting holes for your own reroot as they’re usually pretty reliable. to reroot, take a small length of you doll hair (about 10-15 strands), loop it in half, and put the middle of the loop into the reroot tool. poke the end of the tool with the hair on it into the pre-existing hole and remove the tool. the hair *should* stay in and fill up that plug!! also remember to plug thickly at the hairline and part of the hair where it's most noticeable. it doesnt matter as much in the center of the head as that’s not usually visible on the doll. once you’ve rerooted, squeeze in strong glue through the neck hole and squish around the head to make sure it covers all the plugs and secures them in place. then pour hot water onto the head to make the hair lay flat for styling later.

also, you can reroot yarn directly into the head to make thicker, more textured hairstyles. and since the yarn is thicker, you dont need to glue the inside of the head for the hair to stay in place!!

if youre not doing body modifications (which are also cool as hell) then it’s time for clothes but clothes are boring and i like body mods more so i’m gonna rant about them instead

the material ive seen most doll artists use is apoxie sculpt, which is like play doh on steroids. it comes in two parts which you gotta mix together for some reason. why dont they sell it pre-mixed. what was the reason. also once it’s dry it’s super super strong and you can sand it, drill into it, paint it, and all kinds of stuff. very nice and i want some for myself.

you can use hand saws and drills and shit to whack off doll limbs to make stuff like digitigrade legs or new joints. also dont be afraid to use other mismatching doll parts when customizing like heads and bodies and forearms and hands and shit. it literally does not matter if youre gonna recolor the doll anyways so have fun with it. make frankenstein’s doll if youre feeling spicy

accessories my beloved. stuff like tiny beads and clay baubles and shit will literally transform the entire doll plus they’re adorable and multi-purpose

i suppose i must talk about clothes now. ah well. you can find great clothing patterns if youre new to customizing on other customizer’s etsy shops and probably google although those will probably be lower quality than paid pattern pieces. and keep in mind that if it exists as clothing irl, you can likely make it doll-sized. there are literally no limits to your clothing options as long as you can execute your idea.

the once all your components have been made, you can assemble the doll again!! and finally see what all the parts look like together!! very cool 10/10 stars.

ight that wraps up my doll rant. i could really go into more detail on certain parts but thats a whole other rant for a whole other day smh. sorry for fucking flooding your inbox ender ahaha……………. you asked for this

little did you know that dolls have been one of my favorite things since like ever. if i can read a 25 chapter long fanfic i can read this B)

mattel definitely fucked up by completely ruining MH doll designs and just stopping EAH, alot of their profits most likely came from people who collect and customize dolls and by changing MH doll designs/Stopping EAH dolls they 1. most likely lost a small (or big if we're not jus talking people who customize dolls) part of their profit and 2. made it harder for doll customizers to make dolls/get commissions out rather quickly because they probably have to waste more time making joints or learning how to make joints.

EAH/MH dolls (specifically MH dolls) had AMAZING MODELS because there was so much variety with height, face shapes, etc (my favorite molds had to be the short/tall dolls and the cat molds because of the tails) and doll customizers really went all out with enhancing a molds unique features. The only "downside" abt MH dolls is that they (or atleast most)(from what i remember)) had slimmer faces but wider eyes while EAH dolls have wider faces with slimmer smaller which left a canvas for the face and not the eyes (and vice versa for MH dolls)

I've never seen any videos where a barbie is customized (maybe because i absolutely despised barbies at the time) so I'll definitely have to check those out but they seem to be good for realistic makeovers. I've seen like like semi realistic makeovers for EAH/MH dolls that were pretty good too tho (pretty sure mostly EAH dolls since yk MH dolls were used for creature makeovers while most EAH dolls weren't)

yeah i was always amazed by the head shrinking with acetone. honestly i still am?? idunno i have no idea how that chemical bullshit works. Ive seen a few of uh makeovers that just pain over the face (in multiple layers ofcourse) but that's usually when they're painting the entire body a different colour (again usually when they're turning a doll into a funky little baby man). I've also seen a few that just chop the hair off and take out the hair plugs yk without uuh like softening the head or just go straight for the hair plugs after taking off the head (i used to do that it was funny to me??). i always really liked when they used watercolour pencils or just colour pencils in general to draw/sketch on the face cause like wow ur drawing on ur doll without ruining it?? kinda epic maybe even poggers and pogchamp?? oh god my brain is failing wjshsmsj.

Watching them putting the hair back on the doll was, other than the face stuff, was the BEST part for me. Favorite type of hair was iuuuuuh was either thick yarn or brushed out yarn. Literally worship the people that would reroot the hair, theyre the most patience people on this earth!! it's literally insane but i guess that's what happens when you've been doing that for years? you guess kinda get used to it. when they put glue into the head does it just become stiff?? like it's just a clump of dried glue or does it like..hollow out again??

dude you literally cannot convince me most of the supplies used for doll makeovers. APOXIE CLAY LOOKS SO FECKING GOOD. its edible and i will die on that hill. The body mods are literally so amazing!!!!! it's so impressive how theyre able to imagine certain features THEN LIKE ACTUALLY MAKE IT LOOK ACCURATE TO WHAT THEY WANTED TO LOOK LIKE AFTER LIKE ON TRY (or many yk trial and error is very necessary for..everything). Absolutely loved when doll customizers would saw off a dolls legs and use different ones or just completely get rid of the torso to use a different one. it's like uuh that one big guy that's mismatched and sewn together. very cool. The accessories are so fun!! just small little details you seen really need but can add because it's your feckin doll!! I used to be absolutely obsessed over the doll clothes i would find on etsy, so much so that i started sewing shitty shirts and dresses for my uh "customized" dolls (they were absolute HORRORS idk WHY my mom let me feck up my dolls like that).

Thank you for this!! i haven't been able to talk about any of my interests for a while and this just really made me happy!!

Question fer u my fellow MH/EAH enthusiast: what was your favorite MH/EAH movie/episode and doll series. Mine was The fusion dolls (MH obvi) and that MH movie "Haunted" cause we got to know more about Spectra :D

#YOOOO LONG POST?!#long post #:) hehehe #this was very fun to read cant wait for ur next fanfic length ask #asks :D #theoreticallyjasper

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 22

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007

She stands at the kitchen sink, watching through the window as they sit side by side at the patio table. Millie already in her pajamas, hair still damp from a bath, Tyler in a pair of weathered old sweatpants and tattered t-shirt. Their resemblance striking; same color and texture of hair, same ears and profile, even the same shaped lips and those brilliant blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes. She’s her father’s child; even more so than the boys; sharing not only physical appearance, but facial expressions and body language. Even now their faces mirror each other: eyes narrowed, and brows pinched together, mouth set in a thin, stern line. A staring contest and a battle of wills that’s lasted for more than a minute with no sign of either weakening or wavering. Millie strict and demanding over how she wants things done when it comes to her birthday invitations, her father wondering just how the hell he’d managed to get himself into such a mess in the first place. They're both ferociously stubborn; Millie even more so. And she always wins; no one is immune to that mop of hair and those eyes and that little voice.

Her father is especially weak when it comes to her. An almost six-year-old able to bring a man that size, and who possesses so much strength and power, to his knees. She’s his number one weakness; always balking at scolding her even when she deserves it, succumbing to all the begging and pleading for ‘one more’ bedtime story even though it always turns into five, finding it incredibly hard to say no and very rarely doing so. While his bond with all the kids is strong, the one with Millie is even more so. Perhaps because she’s the first after Austin’s death; a rainbow baby of sorts. Or maybe because she represents the start of his new life; his second chance. A man that had so little to live for suddenly being given everything to live for. She had been conceived in the most unconventional of place during the most unconventional of times. A little blue-eyed miracle that reminds him every day of just how lucky he is to be on this side of the ground.

“Daddy....I am telling you...” Millie finally speaks, her facial expression never changing and her eyes never wavering from his. “...you HAVE to use the glitter.”

“But I don’t want to use it. That shit gets everywhere. You do it the way you want. Then your mom can bitch at you for getting it all over the place.”

“She’ll bitch at you for letting me use glitter without supervision.”

“I am sitting right here. I am supervising.”

“But you gotta use it too,” she insists. “Or the cards won’t match.”

“They don’t have to, Martha Stewart. Relax.”

“Yes. They do have to match. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Amelia...”

She giggles. “Daddy...”

“You’re not the boss.”

“Neither are you. You just think you are. Mommy’s the boss. Your boss.”

Tyler frowns. “Is that what she said?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. It’s just the way it is. And mommy would tell you to use the glitter too.”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit. She’d never say that. She hates glitter.”

“She hates play-doh and slime,” Millie argues.

“And glitter.”

“She never said that!”

“Excuse me? Yes, she did. After your brother got mad at you and dumped a whole container of it in your backpack. Remember? When we still lived at the old house?”

“Oh yeah,” Millie scowls, then pulls her top lip between her teeth and then releases it with an audible ‘pop’. “...well I guess that means you should be really, really careful with it then.”

“I guess that means you should get someone else to help. A glitter bitch.”

“Daddy! That’s a bad word! Why do you have to give me such a hard time? Don’t be like all the other boys in the house. Please don’t.”

“How would like another brother?” Tyler counters.

She gives a dramatic gasp. “Why would you do me like that? Isn’t three enough? Why so many boys? Boys are dumb. And annoying. Except you of course.”

Grinning, he lays a hand on the top of her head and presses a noisy kiss to her temple. “You are so lucky you added that last part.”

“Why? What would you do? Nothing. Because you love me too much.”

“You know what?” His voice and face are stern at first, but then a slow grins spreads from ear to ear and he scoops her up and places her in his lap; pressing kisses against her cheeks and rubbing his beard against her skin until she’s giggling and squirming in a half assed attempt to escape; little hands on his cheeks trying to push him away, the squeals becoming even louder when his fingers dig into her stomach and start tickling.

“What?” Millie asks, when the playful assault ends, and she kneels in his lap facing him; hands delicately cradling his face, a look of pure adoration on her face as she regards him. “What daddy?”

��Get back in your seat and hand me the goddamn glitter.”

Esme laughs and then turns away from the window, busying herself with making a tea and a coffee and tidying the kitchen. The house is eerily quiet for only nine at night; both Declan and Addie fast asleep upstairs, Mac curled up under her crib, snoring lightly. Normally the twins are still tearing around. Either tormenting one another or their older sister or burning off the last of their energy in the pool or down on the beach. She misses them; the dirty handprints that she is constantly wiping off every surface, the sand that they track through every inch of the house, those little voices –and even their squabbling- and the way they eventually fall asleep either spread out on the couch with the tops of their heads touching, or on the bottom bunk pressed back to back.

They’re a handful and have been since day one; a pregnancy filled with complications and scares. But they’re a joy. Rambunctious and mischievous. Fearless to a fault. Always willing to try new adventures, as long as they’re together for them.

The sun is beginning to set as she steps out onto the patio, and the strings of solar powered white lights wrapped around the patio railings springing to life, bathing the area in a soft, almost soothing glow. And she places the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her husband, then lays a hand on the back of his neck and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Despite the outwardly display of confidence and the rare genuine smile that crosses his face, he’s struggling. The last couple of days have been especially rough; medications not enough to take away that edge and that sense of impending doom she knows he’s feeling. It’s so many things: TJ’s troubles, Millie’s rapidly approaching sixth birthday, the situation with Ovi and the very real possibility of having to get back in the game. But he gives her an appreciative smile and lays a hand on her hip; gently squeezing before allowing his hand to lightly slide over her ass.

“Just what are you guys doing?” she inquires and slips into the chair at the head of the table; a foot on the seat, bottom of her hoodie pulled over her knee.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Tyler admits. “I just do what I’m told.”

“We’re making birthday invitations,” Millie says. “Glittery ones.”

“Yeah...I see that...” Esme frowns, then moves her seat back from the table to avoid any wayward sparkles. “You know that crap is going to be everywhere for weeks, right?”

“Daddy already has it in his hair,” Millie giggles. “And in his beard.”

“Because you thought it would be hilarious to dump glitter in your hands and rub them all over my head,” he complains.

“It was funny!” she exclaims. “You’re going to be sparkly forever now. A sparkly daddy.”

“Like one of those vampires in Twilight,” Esme muses, and he gives her a dirty look. “Just much more handsome.”

“I have vampires,” Millie announces. “Daddy could kick their asses.”

“Damn right,” he agrees.

“Daddy would kick all the monsters’ asses, right daddy? Like you kicked all the bad guys asses. Do you miss kicking bad guys’ asses?”

“You know what I miss? I miss when you didn’t say ass every five seconds.”

“Better than the s word or the f word,” she reasons, and kneels in her chair to reach for plastic container full of pencil crayons sitting in the middle of the table. “Do you? Miss kicking the bad guys’ asses?”

“Nope,” he quickly replies. “I don’t.”

Esme knows it isn’t the entire truth; someone just doesn’t give up a job...a life...like the one he’d been leading and not experience some fall out. It’s fast paced and generous; living life constantly on edge and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Days and sometimes weeks of putting your ass on the line to help a stranger; shedding a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for that pay out in the end. The job is exhilarating; every mercenary will admit to that. That there’s a certain rush that comes with the intensity. And most won’t say it out loud, but there’s a feeling of satisfaction you get when you witness revenge and karma up close; even if it means you’re delivering them yourself with your bare hands.

His entire adult has been that existence. First the military, then the job. And there’s no way he doesn’t miss. It’s quite the change; going from that life to one of routine and domesticity.

“I bet the bad guys don’t miss you,” Millie muses. “They were tired of getting their asses kicked. But who does it now that you don’t? Who goes after the bad people?”

“Other guys,” Tyler responds.

“What other guys?”

“Guys like me. Who do that sort of thing. There’s lots of guys like that out there.”

“And girls too?”

“I guess. I suppose there’s girls out there that do that kind of thing. Mommy did.”

Esme directs a kick to his shin under the table, then shakes her head when he gives her a quizzical look.

“Mommy sort of did that job,” he quickly adds. “She helped guys like me out. She helped track down the bad people and then told guys like me where we could find them.”

“Mmmm...” Millie considers this, head cocked to the side, eyes focused on the drawing she’s creating. “....is that how you met?”

“Yup. When I used to live here before I had you or your sister or your brothers.”

“In this house?”

“Not in THIS house. In my old house. Well it wasn’t really a house. It was more like a shack. But there’s where I met mommy. A long time ago. Auntie Nik brought her there and introduced us.”

“We should go there sometime,” Millie suggests. “To your old place. To see it. Who lives there now?”

“A friend of mine. You met him a few times when you were a baby.”

“I want to go there,” she decides. “To your old place. I want to see where you met mommy. Is that where you helped put me in her tummy?”

“No. That happened somewhere else,” Esme speaks up. “In an entirely different country. In Bangladesh. A place called Dhaka. Daddy and I were working there. That’s where you were made.”

“We should go there too,” Millie concludes.

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Tyler says. “That’s not a place I want to go back to.”

“Is that where you almost died?”

Esme watches her husband’s face; mug pressed against her lips as she waits for his reaction. Noticing the small intake of breath and the slow, steady way he releases it. The way his shoulders tense and his leg begins to shake back and forth underneath the table.

“Yeah...” he finally speaks, then turns his attention towards the craft in front of him. His eyes are dark and that vein in his neck...the one that had to be surgically repaired after being blown out by Farhad- begins to pulsate. “...that’s where I almost died.”

“How?” Millie asks.

“You know what,” Esme comes to his aid. “This isn’t a good time to talk about these kinds of things. Not so close to bedtime, okay Millie? It will give you nightmares and as much as we love you, we don’t want you sleeping with us until you’re eighteen.”

“It won’t give me nightmares,” she argues. “I’m fine.”

“Amelia...” Her tone and her face are stern; the warning in her voice noticeable enough that her daughter looks up at her. “Not right now. Thank you.”

Silence falls on the table, no further conversation for several minutes. Nothing but the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore, the slight rustle of the trees, and the soft scrape of pencil crayons against paper. And Tyler reaches under the table to lay a hand on Esme’s thigh, squeezing lightly and giving her a small, grateful smile. There are days when he can talk openly and honestly about what happened in Dhaka. He was able to tell the therapist the whole story without even breaking a nervous sweat. But there’s other times where it’s unbearable; the memories too strong and too painful. The mental wounds still too fresh and feeling still too raw.

“Look at you,” Esme laughs, and the lays a hand on the side of his face and turns his head towards her. “You have glitter everywhere. It’s all in your beard. It looks like you went down on a stripper. I hope you don’t think you’re coming near my bits looking like that.”

He grins. “Oh, I so am.”

“Like hell you are. Last thing I need is being sparkly down there. I don’t know how you’re going to get all that out of there,” she vigorously rubs her palms against her beard, then frowns as she studies the purple and silver flecks left behind on her skin. “It couldn’t at least be a good color that brings out your eyes?”

“Might have to just shave the whole thing off,” he says.

“Like hell you will. We’ve talked about this. Do you want a divorce? Because that’s how you get a divorce.”

“You don’t even know what I look like clean shaven.”

“You’re not Tyler without a beard. Your kids won’t even recognize you. That's how they know you. That’s how I know you.”

“Don’t do it, daddy,” Millie implores. “You’ll look totally different. Like a stranger. I want you to look like daddy.”

“Two against one,” Esme says. “The beard stays.”

“You only look like the beard because when we do...well when I do...you know... you like the way it feels.”

“I’ll give you that. But it’s also because it’s rugged and manly and you look so freaking sexy with it. Even with silver and purple glitter in it. Speaking of glitter....” she stands up and picks up on of the finished creations. “...I take it she mentioned her party and you went along with it.”

“Come on, you knew I wouldn’t say no.”

“I did,” she admits. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to be completely uncomfortable and miserable, either. That’s a lot of people. Here. In your space. I know how much you value your space. So, if you think it’s too much to deal with...”

“I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’ll deal.”

She stares at him pointedly, brows arches.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” he assures her, and reaches out to lay a hand on the small of her back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Daddy’s tough,” Millie declares. “Super tough.”

“Yes,” her mother agrees. “The toughest guy I’ve ever known, that’s for sure.”

“Is that why you fell in love with him?” Millie inquires. “Because he’s tough?”

“There’s a lot of reasons why I fell with him,” Esme replies, as she sits back down in her seat and places her feet in her husband’s lap. “I guess being tough was once of them. Because I knew that I’d always be safe, and I’d have nothing to be scared of when he’s around. That he'd always be willing to protect me and be able to physically do it.”

Tyler smiles and gives her a wink, his hand giving her foot a squeeze.

“He also had really cool hair and crazy beautiful eyes,” she continues. “And big arms. Not to mention that face. Pretty damn handsome, I think. He was kind of mean though. When we first met.”

Millie’s eyes widen as she looks towards her father. “You were mean? To mommy?! Did you make her cry?”

“I did not make her cry and I was not mean.”

“Not right away,” Esme says. “But he got really mean and really bossy when we got to Dhaka.”

“Listen, your mom’s not telling you the truth,” Tyler address his little girl. “I got a little mean, yeah. You want to know why? Because even then your mommy didn’t like to listen to a word I say. And I was in charge and she did something I told her not to and she got in trouble and I got mad.”

“I just put him in his place though,” Esme says with a shrug as she sips her tea. “That just made him even more mad and even meaner. Deep down though, I think he liked it. A woman being all assertive and aggressive with him.”

“I’m not afraid to admit that I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“That was obvious,” Esme grins, and presses her toes into his crotch.

“You think I’m tough, Millie? Your mom’s even tougher than I am. Hands down the toughest woman...person...I’ve ever met. She’s little, but she’s bad ass.”

“Like me!” Millie cheerfully exclaims.

“You’re exactly like her in a lot of ways. You know how tough someone has to be to trick the bad guys into telling her secrets and letting her know where they are? Crazy tough. When you get older, I’ll tell you a story about how she handled things in Ireland against some pretty scary people. She went in there and talked them all by herself. She wasn’t even scared. Not for a second. I was proud of her. Insanely proud.”

“Don’t make me cry,” Esme pleads, and gives him a brilliant smile. “Because my hormones are all over the place since having your daughter and I’m liable to bawl at anything.”

“Mommy’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known,” he continues. “Not a lot of people would do what she did. When she stuck around to help me in Dhaka. No one else was going to do it. I would have died if she hadn’t had been there.”

“But you didn’t,” Esme says. “And that’s all that matters.”

She hates being praised for it; truly believing that she’d done what anyone with a conscience and an ounce of compassion would have done in that situation. Ovi had been too young; there’s no way he should have had to spring into action and shoulder that kind of responsibility. But there’d been no excuse for Nik. There were other team members there; they could have easily kept the situation under control while she held; at least lending a hand to control the bleeding long enough to get him into the chopper and get both Ovi AND him out of there.

And she’ll hold that grudge for the rest of her life; every time the subject of Dhaka comes up or she looks at the scar on her husband’s neck.

****

Ovi arrives just as darkness fully sets in, standing on the bottom step of the patio; cautiously watching them for several minutes, hands shoved in his pockets, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You don’t have to just stand there, mate,” Tyler speaks up. “You can join us, you know.”

The younger man breathes a sigh of relief as he climbs the steps, giving Esme a small, apologetic smile which she returns with a curt one of her own before looking away. Their talk the night before had left a bitter taste in both of their mouths; she’d been harsh and brutally honest and refuses to make any apologies for it. She doesn’t understand how, despite all of the things he’s seen and heard in Dhaka and the years following it, that he can be so steadfast about diving headfirst into such a dangerous life. She’d laid out the hardest of truths she possibly could; the long-lasting effects on Tyler’s mental and physical health, the demons and the monsters that prey on every day, the trickle-down effects and impacts the entire family. Yet he remains determined. Either too stubborn to face the truth, or too just immature and ignorant.

“Millie, why don’t we go inside and get a bedtime snack,” Esme suggests, when Ovi steps up onto the patio, finishing the last of her tea and pushing her chair away from the table. “You can finish these tomorrow, okay? I think daddy’s had just about as much glitter and coloring he can take.”

“Okay,” she willingly –and surprisingly- agrees. “You’ll still tuck me in right, daddy?”

“You know it. Just come and get me when you’re ready, yeah?”

Nodding, she curls an arm around his neck and sweetly pecks his lips. Then scurries over to Ovi and wraps her arms around his, tightly squeezing.

“I can’t deal with this tonight,” Esme says, when Tyler catches her by the wrist before she can leave, a concerned and almost puzzled look on his face. “I don’t want to deal with it all. You do what you have to do. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

He nods in understanding, and she leans down to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips before ushering Millie into the house.

“I think she’s still mad,” Ovi comments, as he drops into a chair at the end of the table.

“Really?” Tyler scoffs. “What gave you that impression?”

Standing, he begins tidying up the table, stuffing pencil crayons, glue sticks, and tubes of sparkles into small plastic storage containers. A far cry from when his hands used to inflict pain and even death on others; glitter caked under his nails and stuck to his fingers as opposed to blood and dirt. And it horrifies him how disappointed he feels over the thought; how blood seemed so much better and easy to accept than a child’s craft supplies. It’s not the first time in six months he’s missed what things were like before, and he knows it won’t be the last. That it will always be there; that side of him that had actually enjoyed the job and the payday that came with.

And it fucking disgusts him.

“I understand why she’s upset,” Ovi says.

Tyler regards him, eyebrow arched. “Do you? ‘Cause I don’t think you do.”

“She doesn’t want you getting back into this. Into that job. Into the job. Because if what happened in New Zealand.”

“Do you even understand what went on there? Why I left? Why I called it quits and came home? Because something tells me you don’t.”

“Mental health issues.”

“That’s part of it. I came home because I couldn’t fucking do it anymore. I’d had enough. Of that life and all the bullshit that came with it. Fucking death and blood and gore and everything that came with it. Helping people that don’t give a shit if I’m alive or dead at the end.”

“I gave a shit,” Ovi reminds him.

“You know how long I’d be doing the job? Almost sixteen years. That’s a fucking lifetime for guys like me.”

“Guys like us,” the younger man stresses.

“You’re not there yet. You might not even get there. You might not even get past what I have in store for you. You want to think it’s all a big game and that it’s something you ‘just want to try out’? Well you’re going to see just how fucking fun it is when I get a hold of you. So if you’re having any second thoughts, I’d back out now before it’s too late and I have you curled up in a ball of your own puke and piss.”

Ovi blinks at the harshness in his voice.

“You wonder why she’s upset? Why she’s pissed off with you? With the whole fucking world right now? Do you know how many promises I’ve made to her that I’ve broken? So many that she doesn’t even believe me when I make promises anymore. That’s fucking sad. It’s pathetic. And here I am, breaking another one.”

“You’re not exactly...”

“You know what? You don’t get to talk. You're just going to sit there and listen to what I have to say. You want to be a man and make these kinds of decisions? Then you sit there and let another man tell you the way things are. I’m not just random off the street that doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The job was my life. It’s who I was. And when I walked away, I thought I left it behind. And then you come along with this bullshit...”

“Tyler...I...”

“Just shut the fuck up and listen,” he growls. “I’m not fucking around here, Ovi. I’m not pulling any punches. It wasn’t just the job that screwed with my head. There was a lot of things that fucked me up. Things you don’t even know about. All the way back to when I was a kid. But the job? The job fucked me in more ways than you can even begin to imagine. You think it’s fun killing people? That I actually enjoyed it? I took pride in it?”

Ovi shakes his head.

“I did it for the money. That’s it. I didn’t do it to help people. I didn’t give a shit about myself, why would I give a shit about them? And then you came along, and Dhaka happened, and that was my one chance to make things right. For redemption. To prove I wasn’t a shit human being. And part of me was ready to die that day. More than ready. And another part of me wanted to stay alive because I thought maybe...just maybe...I’d met someone that could teach me how to give a shit again. That would actually give a shit about me.”

“She obviously did. And still does. Or she wouldn’t be here.”

“She stayed behind on that bridge. Knowing there was a chance that Asif would get a hold of her. Do you know what would have happened to her if he had? What he would have done to her? Way worse than he would have done to you. He would have killed you quickly. He would have waited days with her. Weeks. Until he was bored with her; tired of doing all kinds of sick and twisted shit to her.”

Ovi swallows heavily, tears welling in his eyes.

“And she still stayed. Knowing what would happen if she got caught there. Fucking Nik took off. She wasn’t even going to come back for us. Everything should have told Esme to leave me there and she didn’t. So don’t come here...to my house...and even think about disrespecting my wife.”

“I wasn’t going to. I...”

“You didn’t even give a shit about what she had to say last night. She’s trying to save your life and you didn’t even care. She doesn’t want you ending up like me, don’t you fucking get that? You think I want to be like this? Fucked in the head? Having to take medication every morning to just goddamn function like somewhat of a human being? You think I want my wife and my kids to see me like this? What the hell is wrong with you that you can’t see what the job does? It hasn’t just fucked me up, it’s fucked all of them up. My wife, my kids. Why can’t you see that?”

“I don’t expect you to get back into the job. Just to help me. And you said you would. With the training. You said...”

“You think it’s really going to stop there? That that’s going to be enough? I’m going to get dragged back into this shit. You know it, I know it. Esme knows it. And it’s fucking killing her inside. Because I told her that this time I was done for good. And now look. Look at the goddamn mess you’ve gotten me into.”

“I never meant to...”

“Never meant to what? Bring me back into it? Bullshit. It’s what you wanted right from the get-go. You never wanted to do this alone. You wanted me with you right from the start. Well now you got what you want. You’ve got me right back into this crap. Whether I want to be in it or not. You know I wouldn’t let you do it alone. You damn well knew from the start I’d never let that happen, didn’t you.”

Ovi reluctantly nods.

“Well I hope you’re prepared then. Because I’m not going to make this easy on you. You want me to drag me off to some shit hole and get me killed, I get to do things my way. And I swear to Christ, if my marriage falls apart because of this and I lose my kids....”

“You won’t. That won’t happen. She’d never leave. You know she wouldn’t.”

“I know she WOULD. Don’t tempt it. I break one more promise to her and it’s done. She’ll take off and I’ll never see my kids again. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making yours miserable because of it. Understand me?”

“I don’t understand why you’re both so worried. Why you’re both so upset. I don’t...”

“What if I don’t come back?” Tyler angrily interjects. “What if this is the one time no one is around to save me? What if it’s the one time a sniper puts a bullet in my head instead of my chest? Do you know what I leave behind? Five kids. Five little kids that deserve so much better than this. Does that even matter to you? Do they even matter to you?”

“Of course they do!” Ovi exclaims. “I love those kids! They’re my brothers and sisters! How could you even ask me that? How could you...?”

“You love them but you’re willing to take their dad away from them? It’s okay that I go in there to rescue your ass, but I get killed for it? I leave them behind; I leave Esme behind. Do you know what that would do to her? Me not coming back? Like what the fuck?” He angrily tosses the craft supplies into a storage container on the edge of the patio and slams the lid closed. “Do you not realize everything I stand to lose?”

“I do. I do realize that. You have a life. A wife and kids and...:”

“And you’re still going to do it. You’re still going to go ahead with this bullshit.”

Ovi sighs.

“We start the day after Millie’s birthday. I don’t want to hear anything more about it until then. You know you’re more than welcome to keep coming over here, just don’t talk about this again. Not in front of my wife. And especially not in front of my kids. Understand me?”

“I understand.”

“We’re finished here. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s been a long fucking day and I’m done with it. With everything. I’m going into Port Douglas tomorrow to take Millie to see my dad. You can come along if you don’t mention a word of this around her.”

“Okay. I’d like that. To see him again. And I’m sorry. I really am. For all the problems. For all the bullshit. I never meant to cause issues. Especially for you and Esme. I never meant...”

“You come between us and fuck things up, I will make your life hell,” Tyler vows, as he gathers up the dirty coffee mug and steps towards the entrance to the house. “I lose my family because of all this, it won’t end well for you.”

“Tyler, I...”

“We’re done with this,” he says, and then slams the door closed behind him.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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successionsideblog · 4 years

Text

you know what, if you want a taste of the tomgreg i’m writing here ya go. i’m not spellchecking this and it has no title. here is your taste

The fallout unravels in a series of afters.

Fifteen seconds after the press conference ends, Kendall rips up his approved statement and tosses it behind him to the ubiquitous uproar of the roomful of press. He has just killed his father on national television, a new wave patricide for the twenty-first century, and Greg, well, Greg gave him the gun.

Thirty seconds after the press conference ends, Greg follows Kendall down a stretch of hallway like a rescue dog abandoned by the train yard having attached itself to the first person who threw it a bone. His hands are clammy against the yellow manila folder, making sweaty fingerprints against the cheap, Office Depot paper. The skin of his thumb pulls away from the nail with his incessant fidgeting and it stings like hell. Kendall is walking too fast despite his much shorter stride. Jess and Karolina crowd his side, but Kendall barrels past them.

Colourful language is exchanged. Phone calls are made. Greg can barely hear what is being said with the blood rushing from one side of his head to the other. His ears sound like oversized conch shells that swell with the shutter of every flashing camera that follows them past the podium.

“Sorry.” Greg offers them an uncomfortable wave, or what was supposed to be a gesture of apology. “Sorry for the—uh—inconvenience.”

“Alright, Greg, my comrade in arms,” Kendall says, holding out his hand, making a grabby motion. He looks composed, not even a decimal place to the right as nervous or overwhelmed as Greg is. “Sauce me the docs.”

“Right,” Greg says and surrenders them without protest. It feels good to finally let them go after they had been eating away at the argyles in his sock drawer for weeks. “Sorry, um, about the sweat. It’s my flight-or-fight response. I guess my body thinks I might be dying.”

Kendall ignores him, then passes the documents to an assistant so haphazardly that Greg almost wants to cry out, or at least make everyone in the room go through a strict vetting process before the manila folder can disappear from his sight. His worries are quickly quashed, however, when the folder is ripped open and the distribution of dozens of photocopies begins amongst the Kendall approved reporters waiting in the wings.

One such reporter, who must have seen Greg hand over the folder, pounces on him, blonde and plasticky in that white-midwestern-Fox-News-anchor sort of way that immediately waives his interest. The foam headed microphone she poises in front of his face is uncomfortably phallic.

“Your name?” she asks.

“Uh, Gregory—”

“Roy?”

“No, Hirsch. I was, um, the one who fucked up—sorry—my testimony in front of Congress? You might have seen me on the front page of Reddit. Wait—are you broadcasting this?”

He gives a statement, then he and Kendall are ushered into another room, stale with the smell of dispensary coffee and complimentary pastries, then a second room where a legal team made up of people Greg has never met pulls Kendall aside. Their conversation is hushed, their faces pinched and wrinkled like globs of malformed Play-Doh.

Greg stands in the corner, ignoring the urge to lean his forehead against the spackle wall and find his breath. He was privy to Phase 1 of the plan and only Phase 1: get in a helicopter, get on a private jet, transport the super-secret documents, attend the press conference, give Kendall the super-secret documents, watch Kendall hand over the super-secret documents, et cetera. By now, they must be at Phase 2: try not to poop your big boy pants in front of the Wallstreet Journal.

Afterwards, Kendall pats him on the back and tells him to “gear up for the clusterfuck,” so Greg does. They get into separate cars, pulled in separate directions by the tailing reporters. Greg watches the second black car shrink into a dot behind him: Phase 3, which Greg isn’t destined to be a part of, apparently.

Greg holes up in his apartment with his phone readied and ATN on mute. He waits for the word from Kendall, but it never comes. He paces, showers the corporate stink off him, and changes into sweats. As he towel dries his 100 dollar haircut, his phone pings, then pings again, again, and again. It vibrates against the custom-made coffee table with such force Greg thinks the glass might shatter.

He snatches it up. A text from Gerri, from Tom, from Shiv, Roman, Karl, Frank, all spouting a thesaurus worth of expletives and a row of question marks, as well as several emojis Greg has trouble deciphering in this context. At the top of his lock screen is a notification for the New York Times article Kendall warned him about yesterday, then the statement he gave to the tabloid in all caps, bold Helvetica font.

“Oh, okay, okay, okay, shit. Shit!”

He puts his phone on silent and goes to the balcony to smoke a joint, realizes reporters are swarming his building like worker ants in camera-ready makeup and drugstore hair gel, and hurries back inside. He flexes his fists, chews up his lips until they look like a crime scene. He knew what he was getting into when he handed over those two sad, crumpled pages he saved from certain Wambsgans branded death. But maybe not to the extent of being called out for it, or having to face the ridicule of a family he just settled into. He was supposed to be the backup, a co-conspirator behind the scenes, not the second fall guy. He texts Kendall “Hey man, I’m kind of freaking out right now” but gets no reply.

Kendall is persona non grata. As far as Greg knows, he could be holed up in a Soviet-era Siberian bunker somewhere, eating beans from a tin can and waiting out the aftermath.

Greg kicks himself. He should have thought of that.

Ten hours after the press conference ends and five hours after the media shitstorm hits peak shit, Greg hears a knock at his door. Half-asleep from a nap he was unaware he was taking, he instinctively reaches for his phone again. The sun is setting, shrinking behind the eyesore of an office building that blocks his view and decreases the property value of his apartment. He grumbles as his phone screen illuminates, stinging his dilated pupils.

(15) Unread Voicemails from Tom Wambsgans.

“Shit.”

The knocking continues.

“Hey, Greg, open up,” Tom shouts, sing-song in a threatening sort of way. His voice is muffled by the door, the knob twisting back and forth. Greg half-expects an ax to come flying through the wood and plaster. “Greg, I swear to God, open this door or else you are dead to me.”

Greg stumbles over himself, nearly tripping over the edge of his Sherpa rug as he turns on a light. He unlocks the door and yanks it open. The smell of tropical suntan lotion and Armani cologne immediately wafts into his nose, like a bowl of fruit salad left sitting on a department store perfume counter.

Tom stands there, his fists balled up at his sides like a petulant child waiting for his mother in a long line at the supermarket check-out. His skin is tan and slightly sunburnt around his nose from their time spent in Greece, but his loose-fitting yacht clothes have been replaced by a stark white button-down and an Yves Saint Laurent suit jacket. Greg tries not to notice.

“What the fuck did you do?” Tom asks.

His eyes wide, his affectation intensified by his disbelief. He looks angry, jaw jutting out. For a second, Greg thinks Tom might hit him like he has other times Greg has told him something he doesn’t want to hear. But the scale is much bigger, with implications that extend far beyond extramarital activities and open business relationships.

“I, uh, well.” Greg finds his words then loses them, then finds some new ones. “I mean, is it bad?”

“Yeah, Greg, it is. It is very bad.”

Tom pushes past him into the apartment. Greg hesitantly shuts the door behind him, trying not to shrink in on himself. Meanwhile, Tom appears to be near hysteria, halfway between laughing and crying like he was when he first dragged Greg into the death pit. Tom glances out the window where a few straggling news crews remain, then turns to face him.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” Tom asks.

“What?” Greg avoids his eyes. “Like—like an apology?”

“Yeah, like an apology.” Tom lets out a humourless, near sociopathic chuckle. “You fucked me over, Greg! You fucked me!” Every consonant is especially harsh when Tom says his name. He pinches his thumb and forefinger together. “We were this close to all of this going away and poof! Fucking front-page news. I feel like I got caught with my pants down and everyone is laughing at my junk.”

Greg tries not to let the off-colour simile faze him. “Look, Tom, to be fair, I kind of fucked us both.” He takes a step forward to close the room width of space between them. “I mean, I implicated myself as much as I implicated you. But Ken said he would take care of it.”

“Oh, he did, did he? So, what, are you his bitch boy now? First comes corporate scheming then comes marriage?”

Greg makes a face at him, ignoring the jealousy uncomfortably sandwiched between every word. Sometimes he thinks Tom forgets that Shiv, Roman and Kendall are his cousins, like a baby who lacks object permanence for Fortune 500 surnames.

“Uh, not sure I would use that term but okay.” Greg tries not to pace. “Come on, this is what you wanted in the first place. To come clean, get it all out in the open. Like, it was the right thing to do, right?”

Tom raises his eyebrows, mouth falling open. “You are unbelievable.”

“What?”

“Jesus, Greg. I know it was you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were the one who told Gerri I wanted to hold a press conference, you piece of shit.” The hurt that lines Tom’s face catches Greg off-guard. Tom tries to hide it with a self-satisfied grin, seemingly for having figured it all out, but Greg can see it in his eyes, festering. “So, now you want to claim the moral high ground? You lied to me through your fucking teeth.”

Greg had almost forgotten that had happened. It feels like it was years ago, not months. He was a fish out of water back then—he still is—but he thought it might allow him some wiggle room, help him avoid being caught in the clean-up net, gutted, then served on a platter if cruises ever came out. He supposes he could play the “I was oblivious” card—because he was—but that might not fly considering he just blew a big, shiny rape whistle on Waystar senior management.

“Look, Tom, I’m sorry, like really, I am, but you told me not to trust anyone, least of all you, and then you trusted me? It was your own advice!” Greg raises his hands as if to deny culpability. “So, you know, that, uh, that sounds like a you problem, dude.”

Something shifts in Tom’s expression, the hurt turning to resentment. “Is this unassuming nature of yours, this fresh-scrubbed sincerity, all an act?” Tom asks, gesturing to Greg and all Brobdingnagian six feet and seven inches of him. “Have I been duped, bamboozled, hung out to fucking dry? Again?”

Greg knew Tom would be upset, but this is something else, something that runs deeper than possibly facing jail time. Tom has never been especially easy for Greg to read; he masks his sincerity with deceit and covers up his deceit with generosity, trying to play at the Roy game by Roy rules until his intentions pervert into some sick joke only he’s in on.

Would you kiss me? What if I asked you to? What if I told you to?

At best, Tom is unpleasant to work for and borderline abusive to his employees. At worst, he’s strangely endearing. If Greg really wanted out from his clutches, he would have used the documents as leverage a long time ago. But Greg feels oddly attached to him still, like a pair of Siamese Twins held together by their liver: an organ that could be severed in two if need be, but Greg would likely miss the feeling of working so close to Tom by virtue of needing to keep their heads above the water before cruises sank them completely.

“Tom, come on—I just—I want you on my side.” Greg feels pathetic as he inches closet to pleading with Tom, but for what? Forgiveness? Understanding? A second chance? He’s not so sure.

Tom scoffs. “Why? Because I present a tactical advantage? Did Kendall ask you to recruit me?”

Greg would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered nudging Tom over to the Kenstar Gregco team, but Kendall had never given him the rundown on how this was going play out, or which factions the family might divide into. Truthfully, Greg didn’t think that far ahead when Kendall laid out the initial plan. There had been no time for that.

“Kendall has nothing to do with this,” Greg says, motioning between them. “The documents were a favour. I was just doing Kendall a favour.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tom grits his teeth. “You used me, Greg. You were a featherless chick, trying to fly from the nest, and I took you under my wing! Now you want to significantly alter the pecking order?” He shakes his head. “All you Roys are the same. Like a piss of leeches in cashmere turtlenecks and cable-knit sweaters.”

Greg feels the urge to tell Tom he’s technically not a Roy, but it would be fallacious. Tom isn’t one either, not really. They’re both nameless actors on the outskirts of the freak show, one of them a clown that married into the circus, and the other a clown that has trace amounts of circus in his blood. This was their choice.

“I’m indebted to you, Tom, I really am.” Greg reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. Even though they’re barely touching, he can feel his body heat radiating from beneath his primly ironed Oxford. “Look, what can I do?”

Tom goes quiet, glancing at where Greg has made contact. For a moment, Greg naively thinks they have reached some sort of understanding. His hopes are quickly dashed.

“Alright, Greg,” Tom says, his performative smugness returning. “You can tell me where Kendall is for starters.”

“Kendall?”

“Yes, Kendall. Come on, where is our quasi-Dmitri Karamazov? Has he gone AWOL or is he out roaming the streets covered in blood with three thousand rubles clutched in his tiny fist?”

Greg narrows his eyes at Tom, dropping his hand from his shoulder. “Okay—um—no? And I don’t know where he is. He kind of went dark on me.”

“Oh, so you two are in cahoots but not really in cahoots?”

Greg ignores how pleased Tom sounds. “Is everyone back yet?”

“We flew in a couple of hours ago.”

“And?”

“Oh, they’re beyond pissed. Your balls will be in a little brass box on Logan’s desk come morning.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Greg says but he doesn’t really believe it. Tom is just playing the game again, trying to intimidate him with lowbrow banter fit for any fraternity hazing ritual. It only signifies that Greg has passed the threshold of what is expected of him again because, in actuality, Logan is in a worse spot than anyone. Except maybe Kendall who has to deal with the consequences of putting him there. “So, where do you stand? In all of this.”

Tom snorts, but he looks unsure. “Oh, please. Stop with this which-side-are-you-on bullcrap. You sound like a fifth-grader picking teams for kickball.”

“Hey, I’m being serious. Like, what do you owe Logan? What do I owe him? I mean, I owe you more than anything,” Greg says and the compliment makes his back teeth ache. “I want you there—here—like, I want you to play on my team. Or you could, maybe, play both sides. You know, do a little undercover. It could be like a James Bond, Q type situation.”

“Greg, you’re being ridiculous.”

“How? How is that ridiculous?”

Tom just shakes his head. The sadness Greg had taken note of before returns to his face. Greg knows Tom has a responsibility to Shiv, and whichever way Shiv goes he has to follow. Greg was just hoping their alliances had yet to be decided, but it sounds like she has made up her mind, so Tom has too. No game plan, no strategizing, no conspiratorial comradery. Greg feels stopped in his tracks, pushed to the outskirts by someone who has always tried to bring him in.

Tom heads towards the door, removing his phone from his back pocket. “Keep in touch.”

It sounds like a threat and a promise rolled into one.

#i am not tagging this #it is a sneak peek for subscriber only

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maxineswritingcenter · 4 years

Text

Cinderella AU - Dean x fem!reader

There once was a man, a good man. He loved his family very much, his wife and young daughter, (Y/N). Father and daughter were inseperable, they were the best of friends. After a mysterious illness, his wife died and the man remarried. The woman, Druscilla Tremaine, and her daughters, Anastasia and Drizella, moved into their home. And just as before, the man followed his wife to the grave. This left (Y/N) at the hands of three witches who forced her to clean house and run errands for spell ingredients. What the witches didn't know what that the girl had been learning all these years and had found some magic abilities of her own. There was a meeting of the coven soon, a fabulous party for powerful witches.

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

In the darkness of my tiny room I practiced. I practiced and practiced. I practiced by candle light to hide what I was doing. Druzilla, my actual evil stepmother, would literally kill me if she found me doing magic. At any opportunity, I would write down spells of little bits of paper and hide them in a notebook I kept under my bed.

It was early, I could be caught at any moment now. But it wasn't fair. The spell that my step mother was going to use required a life, she was going to be using a field mouse from the backyard. The little thing didn't deserve to suffer. From it's tiny cage, I lifted him out with one hand and fed him a tiny piece of cheese. He held it in his little paws and ate away, not a care in the world.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, gently petting the top of its head. From the table next to me, I grabbed a pinch of chamomile and blew it into the mouse's face.

I took a deep breath and sounded out the spell I heard, "bah rah gah doh." The mouse halted and fell limp. My eyes widened and I panicked. Did I kill it? Do I do something wrong? Pronounce something wrong? I held the little mouse close to my ear, hearing its tiny heart beat. My shoulders relaxed and I put the little mouse back in it's little plastic prison.

"There you go... Sleep now." I whispered. Suddenly loud footsteps thundered down the hall. I quickly took my notebook and shoved it under my bed and blew out the candle. My door opened, blinding me with the light from the hallway.

"Ah, you're awake. Decided to sleep in, did you?" Druscilla looked down at me with her pointed eyes.

"I was up late cleaning up... From your ritual." The ritual where she literally drained a person of their blood to keep her young. The victim was a college girl passing through town. The locals would blame an animal, just like they were spelled to do.

"Well that's no excuse, is it?" She said, putting her hands on her hips.

"No." I said, not looking her in the eyes.

"No, what?"

"No, ma'am."

She humpfed, "That's what I thought. Now get ready. I need that mouse. There are hunters in town and I'll be damned if they find me. Especially before the party." She left the room, slamming the door behind her. I winced at the sound, looking back at the little mouse, still sound asleep.

"What I wouldn't do, little mouse, what I wouldn't do." I sighed and got ready for the day. Hair in a messy bun, t-shirt, jeans, socks, shoes, nothing special. My step monster spent my dad's money on clothes and riches for her and her daughters. Anastasia and Drizella. Anastasia wasn't so bad, she mostly followed the crowd. It was Drizella I had to watch out for. Drizella liked to play with fire, I had the scars on my legs to prove that her spells worked. Nothing like having your pants set on fire in the middle of dinner. I made my way down to the main floor of the house, the little cage in hand. I set the cage down on the alter table and took a deep breath.

"Hey!" A shrill voice made me jump, there in the doorway to the living room was Drizella.

"I thought I told you to iron my dress." She held up the dress that I ironed the previous night, "It's all wrinkled!"

"I did iron it." I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"Not good enough. Need I remind you of what I can do?" She glared. Soon after Anastasia appeared, plate in hand.

"(Y/N), I'm hungry. Why isn't breakfast ready?" She asked.

"Because she's going to reiron my dress." Drizella snapped at her sister.

"No, she's making breakfast first!" Anastasia whined back. They both started yelling at each other back and forth until their mouths snapped shut with a snap of Druscilla's fingers.

"Now, now, girls, what is all this ruckus?" She eyed me, "(Y/N), what have you done now?"

I shook my head, "I didn't do anything-"

"I see. That explains it then. Well do something. Make breakfast, iron her dress, and then run to the apothecary. I need more ashwood." She grabbed my arm, pushing up my sleeve to show the scar on my arm where she placed a hex bag, "If the shop keep gives you any trouble you know what will happen. And you wouldn't want to hurt him, would you?" I shook my head.

"Good." She dropped my arm and with a flick of her wrist, I was sent towards the kitchen.

The streets were crowded, it was pretty unusual for this tiny town but with the meeting of the coven the town was buzzing. They were also buzzing because of the idea of hunters. Druscilla said hunters were bad, but I didn't think anyone could be as bad as her. I entered the apothecary, just like I did every week. The little bell chimed and I felt safe for the time being. The shopkeep was understanding of my situation and knew what Druscilla could do. The shopkeep was a friendly man. His smile was warm and welcoming. He was tall and usually wore a grey sweater, probably to hide all of his warding tattoos. His business was a dangerous one. I made my way up to the register and smiled.

"I can't find the ashwood, did you move it?" I asked.

He shook his head, "No, I'm afraid that someone put my stock on reserve, they got a big harvest day ritual coming up."

My heart sunk, "But, She need ashwood. I can't go back without it."

He shrugged, "I'm sorry. The client already paid for all of it."

My arm started to burn and so did my eyes, "Please." I gasped in pain, "There has to be something left."

His eyes widened, "Hey now, I told you I don't have any to give Druscilla and you can go tell her that."

My blood started to boil with rage and my breathing became ragged, "Please." I said through gritted teeth.

"I told you no." He said. My rage took over and I snarled, lunging at him over the counter. I took him to the ground, wrapped my hands around his throat. He grabbed my wrists, looking up at me with bulging eyes.

"Stop!" He managed to say.

"I can't!" I growled, pressing harder. His eyes rolled back and his fighting stopped. I found the will to let go and scrambled away from the man, taking off out of the shop.

I made my way to the hardware store, stopping outside to watch as old black Chevy park in front of the Apothecary.

"Tempered ashwood?!" Druscilla screamed and threw the wood planks at me after I presented her with a bag of it from the hardware store. I shielded my head with my arms as they fell down on me.

"You come back here with tempered ashwood?! What am I supposed to do with this?!" She screamed.

"It's all I could find! The apothecary was out!" I shouted back over the sound of her destroying plates that I would have to clean up later.

"Excuses! Always with the excuses, (Y/N)! I have raised you and fed you, kept you off the streets and you give me tempered ashwood?! How ungrateful." She spat. She walked away and went back to her stone alter where Drizella and Anastasia had been watching. She took the little mouse from his cage and shook him a bit with a confused look on his face.

"Why is it sleeping?" She looked down her nose at me.

"I-I don't know." I stuttered.

Druscilla rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter." She took a sharp knife from the alter and I looked away while she ended the little life in her hand. I looked back after the last of it's blood was drained into a silver bowl. She then, pricked her finger with the knife. Anastasia and Drizella followed, they each let a drop of blood fall into a bowl.

"Cloaking flame, I ignite you. The fire born from blood leaves behind no witch. Now vanish me from the danger's sight. O fire of power and concealment." Druscilla threw some herbs into the bowl and it ignited into a red flame.

"Cloaking flame. That will keep us safe from any hunter that we should come into contact with. As long as this flame burns, they can't see us." Where was that spell when I was hiding from that damn cat, Lucifer.

On cue, the devil cat that I'm sure was spawned from Druscilla appeared. It was a large black cat with unsettling yellow eyes. It strutted past me and towards the alter. Drizella tossed the corpse of the mouse to the cat who caught it in its mouth.

"There's mommy's little helper." Druscilla sighed fondly at him. Lucifer, who didn't meow, but growled back at her.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Druscilla looked at me with a finger pressed to her lips.

"You know what to do." She said. I closed my eyes and stood up. When I opened them I walked towards the door and opened it. On the porch were two tall men, one taller than the other. They were dressed in dress pants and white button downs.

"Is this the Tremaine residence?" The taller one asked.

"Yes." I avoided eye contact, pulling my sleeves down to hide the scar.

"Well, this is Brother Samuel and I'm Brother Dean. We're here from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints. May we come in?" The other man with bright green eyes gave me a million dollar smile.

"No." I said.

"Are you sure?" Brother Samuel asked. He had saggy brown hair and hazel eyes that were kind and welcoming, "From what we heard in town the family used to be avid church goers."

"That was before my mother died. My father lost faith. So did I." I quickly looked over my shoulder at the witches then back at the Mormons, "This really isn't a good time." I tried to close the door but the green eyed man stepped forward and held the door open with his foot.

"Ma'am, is everything alright. Are you in some sort of danger?" Brother Dean asked, his eyes scanning over my face like a lazer. I winced when I felt the spell beginning to take it's hold on me.

"Please go." I whimpered, the burning began to take effect in my eyes. Which he seemed to notice because he backed off and smiled.

"Perhaps another time." Brother Samuel said, "Have a nice day." I quickly closed the door, leaning against it and breathing heavily.

"Those must be the hunters." Anastasia said, "They didn't notice us at all."

Drizella smirked, "Mother, may I keep one. The green eyed one got my blood pumping."

"No, no, Drizella. I have a plan for them. Involving..." She looked at me with a smirk, "Our guard dog."

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

Tis the beginning of a story based Loosely off of Cinderella, I'm trying my best.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated!

Read part two here!

If you would like to be tagged in this series, send me an ask!

General tag:

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@somebodyto-love

@beanie-beebo

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@tloveswriting

@samros95

@calaofnoldor

#cinderella!au #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural creatures #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

The Tower: Unexpected - 11

The Tower: Unexpected An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Pairing: Avengers x ofc, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2416

Warnings: pregnancy, angst

Synopsis: A little over 2 years after moving into the Avengers Tower, Elly finds herself pregnant against the odds. While some are excited, others are terrified, and pregnancy that none expected to happen causes rifts through the group and threatens to end the relationship.

Author’s Note: Written with the very hungover @fanficwriter013

Chapter 11: The Return of the Science Bros

The next few weeks went by fine. I’d pretty much resigned that this was my family now. The pregnancy had reached 24 weeks. I hadn’t seen Bruce or Tony for five months. I figured I wasn’t ever going to despite reassurances from the others that they were working on Tony and he was just in hardcore nesting mode to deal with the panic he was feeling. I had reached the point where I wasn’t sure I wanted him to come back.

Bruce, on the other hand, was concerning. We weren’t sure if he was hiding or if Hulk just liked the idea of being a dad so much he wasn’t willing to give him back. Wanda seemed to think it was the second but no one could convince him to let go of control and when we tried he’d start getting agitated.

The biggest problem we faced was the living situation. The others had said Tony was working on it. It didn’t seem to be getting worked on though and I was starting to worry.

“I just don’t know where we’re going to put them. We’re running out of time.” I said.

“They’re gonna be pretty small,” Clint joked. “You can put them in one crib in the corner. They won’t take up much room.”

“I'm sorry, they?”

I turned suddenly toward the sound of Tony’s voice. He stood at the door to the stairwell, the door still held open like he might retreat back through it.

“I - uh - Tony?” I said, in a state of shock. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in months, and was wearing a black tank top and sweats.

“Yes?” He said. “You said they. What does ‘they’ mean?”

“It means ‘they’,” I said, still not sure what was happening or why he was there. Or if he was even actually there and I wasn’t hallucinating. “As in there's more than one.”

“How many?” He asked.

It was like my brain suddenly accepted what was happening and rather than being relieved to see him I was pissed. “I don't - No... you don't just get to come in here and drill me for information when I haven't seen you for 5 months. You don't get to do that.”

“And these triplets or whatever could be mine?” Tony asked. I just sat silently not acknowledging him. Fuming that he’d just come in here and expecting answers.

“Okay. You want me to leave then?” He snarked.

I snapped, the hurt and pain bubbling and spewing out of me. “I want you to say you're sorry to me!” I shouted. “I want you to beg me to take you back! You keep running from me whenever something happens and you get scared and I just have to sit here and wait until you're ready like I'm a good little girl? You're lucky I'm still here!”

He blinked at me like I’d slapped him.

“Why should I tell you anything about them when you don't even want them? Come in here snapping at me like I did something specifically to hurt you. Like I'm not also terrified by this. I'm not - You don't get to treat me like I don't mean anything to you!”

“El,” Wanda said softly putting her hand on me.

“No. No. I don't always have to be the bigger person.” I said getting up suddenly, the tears I had been fighting back finally breaking.

“Elly,” Steve said.

I wheeled on him suddenly. “Stop using the misbehaving daughter voice on me!” I shouted spinning on my heel and going to march out. A sharp pain ran up my side and I doubled over, groaning.

“Elly, that wasn't the voice,” Steve said, while Hulk stood and made a distressed noise.

I sunk to my knees rubbing my side and making a pained sound as it felt like a tearing was happening down my side.

“Elly?” Hulk grumbled as he moved closer and Nat and Sam got up and rushed to my side.

“I don't - I think I'm okay,” I said rubbing my side.

Hulk took a step towards me and started to lose his green. I stared up at him as his muscles shrunk and contracted. Until all that was left was Bruce standing there holding a far too big of a pair of pants up. He blinked around the room a confused expression on his face. “What’s happening?”

It was too much, the pain, Bruce being back. Tony. Steve scolding me. I broke down into wracking sobs and clutched my side. “I think it’s the babies, Bruce,” Natasha said an edge of panic in her voice as Sam poked and prodded at me.

“Okay,” Bruce said moving to my side. “I've got you. Talk to me.”

“Hurts here,” I said rubbing the spot where the pain was radiating out from.

“Okay,” Bruce said beginning to feel around with Sam. “Let me look.

“You came back,” I said quietly as I watched them.

“Hulk panicked. Thought I was needed.” He said not looking up.

“You've been needed this whole time.”

“I'm sorry.”

I put my hand on his forearm as he pressed against my side. “Did you know? Could you hear things?”

“Sometimes. Very, very faintly,” Bruce said looking up into my eyes. “Like I was underwater. I’m sorry, L. I wanted to come back. I couldn’t get him to let go.” I nodded and rubbed his arms. He kept poking around and looked up at me. “I think it’s just a pinched nerve.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Sam agreed.

I let out a breath. “They’re okay?”

Bruce nodded and helped me back to a seat. “I believe so. You have an obstetrician?” I nodded and Bruce looked up. “FRIDAY, can you page them?”

“Right away, Doctor Banner.” She replied.

I sighed and tried to relax. “Twins, Tony. It's twins.” I said without looking at him.

He let out a breath. “Oh, just twins.”

“And they're only yours if you want them to be.”

“I want it on the record that I was here before Bruce.” He said.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head slightly. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m here.” Tony protested.

“Okay.”

“I have some designs too,” He said pulling out a tablet.

I sighed and shook my head again trying really hard to not just lose it at him. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

He made a face and shifted where he stood.

I let my head roll so I was looking at him. “Would you like me to just disappear for 5 months? Lock you completely out? How would that make you feel?”

“Oh,” He said frowning. “I needed to access some things. And yes, I probably pulled a Howard.”

“So... what would you like to have heard from Howard?” I said drily.

“From Howard?” He asked. “I wouldn’t even know.”

I groaned and my head fell back. “Tony. I want you to tell me you're sorry and that you love me and I want to feel like you mean it. Or no. You aren't here.”

“But I am here.” He protested.

I stood up and Natasha moved quickly to support me. “I’m going to go lie down. Bruce, it’s good to see you back. If anyone has anything they feel they might like to tell me I’ll be in there.” I say pointing at the bedroom. “Otherwise, when the doctor gets here, that’s where I am.”

“Thanks, El,” Bruce said softly as I shuffled to the bedroom being supported by Nat. She helped me into the bed and I pulled the body pillow close as I got comfortable. It wasn’t long until there was a gentle knock on the door.

“You want me to leave you alone with him?” Natasha asked moving to open the door.

“Yes, please. Thank you, Tasha.” I said.

She nodded and let Tony in, stepping past him as she left. He stood by the door shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I, uh. I have some things to say. But I'm not sure I can.”

“I need to hear them, Tony. I'm hanging on by a thread here.”

He sighed and shifted again. “I know,” he said, “I just... I don't know. I don't wanna fuck them up. But I don't exactly know how to be there for them.”

“My dad once broke my arm in such a way that when you touched it, it felt like play-doh,” I said, shaking my head. “You think I don't have those exact same fears? We'll do the best we can. I get being scared. Fuck, if I could put this on hold and go on a bender where none of you saw me for a week I probably would. I'm not mad that you got scared and you don't know how to do this. I am hurt that you didn't come and talk to me. That once again you put FRIDAY on lockdown so if I needed you I couldn't come and see you.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, frowning. “I needed time. And that was fucked up because… That's exactly what Howard would do. And exactly what I don't want to do.”

“I've been so alone,” I said trying not to cry again. “When my morning sickness was at its worse Nat went on a mission, and Steve decided he had to go save the world or something and I would wake up and throw up and Wanda would rub my back and then I'd go to work. And I was alone all day in my lab because you wouldn't let me in and Bruce was just gone.”

“What do you want me to say? All I can say is that I'm sorry. And I was an asshole. I didn't have Steve send Nat away.”

The tears broke again and silently slipped down my cheeks. I was so afraid. I wanted to forgive him but I was scared that this would happen again and if I forgave him this, I’d forgive him anything. “I want you to hold me and reassure me you won't do this again. I want to know that you get what you did to me here. That this is the second time you've done this to me and that’s not acceptable. That I never ever have to worry about you doing this to me if I forgive you.”

“I didn't mean to,” He said, shifting again, but not coming over. “You understand that all intimacy in my life has been flakey, unreliable, or absolutely fake and manipulative right?”

“Have I been like that?” I asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head.

“I love you, Tony. I am as patient with you as I can be. I want you to be happy and feel that love you have been denied for so long. But I didn’t mean for this to happen. I hate that I hurt you with this. That I made you doubt me and my intentions. But it was an accident and I’m hurting and you are still over there and you still haven’t told me you won’t do this to me again.”

He moved to the bed, slipping off his shoes and sitting down on the side, still just out of reach. “I know,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “That's the worst part. I know you didn't do this to trap me or force me into something.”

“I don't even know how it happened. She said just my birth control alone was one in 2000 women every three years. Like what the fuck? How am I now pregnant with twins?” I said and looked down at my stomach.

He let out a breath. “It was meant to be, I guess.”

“I guess so. I wish... I wish we could have planned to have them.”

He moved closer and I leaned my head against his thighs. “That would have been ideal,” he said as he ran his hands through my hair. “I’m sorry, Elise. You don’t have to take me back, but I promise I won’t do it again.”

I sighed and just sat leaning against him as he played with my hair. “So I guess here's what you need to know. It's a boy and a girl. My doctor has done blood tests to determine if they are genetically related to Bruce, Steve, Bucky and I guess Thor too. There is a small chance they have two different fathers. She will only disclose if they are those people's if she's worried about their health in some way. So far we don't know and Steve doesn't want anyone to know. As far as he's concerned they're his kids and anyone else that chooses to do this.”

“Okay,” He said his breath catching a little. “A little boy and a little girl.”

I nodded and took his hand, placing it on my stomach. It wasn’t long until there was a kick. He looked down at my stomach before looking back up at me. “They … they do that?”

“Yeah, for a while now. You’ve missed a lot, Tony.”

He nodded and slipped down into the bed, keeping his hand on my stomach. For a while, we didn’t say anything. We just sat, him feeling the babies. “Do they have names?”

“First names. The girl is Riley and the boy is Pietro.”

He nodded a small frown on his face. “Okay.”

“You have any input on middle names?” I asked.

He looked at me a little startled. “Maria?”

I nodded. “Yeah. That would be nice. Riley Maria.” I said. “You know, if you can just trust yourself, that you aren't the person you think you are, you'll be a great dad, Tony.”

“I will?”

“Yeah. If you don't lock yourself up when you get scared. I've seen you with that spider-kid.” I said, rubbing his thigh.

“That’s different. I’m not his dad. I’m just a mentor. I only see him sometimes and his Aunt is amazing. I can’t fuck him up.” He argued.

I shrugged. “Still. You’re good. You'll be good. Just... Make sure you practice saying I love you.”

“Right.” He said with a nod. “I - I do love you, Elly. I love you. I’m really sorry I did this to you again.”

I melted into him and he wrapped his arms around me, leaning his chin on the top of my head. Maybe we still had some work to do, but finally, we were all back together again. That was at least a good start.

// NEXT

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squidpro-quo · 5 years

Text

AN: Exactly 999 words of Ninoir for @thelastpilot because I wanted to provide fluff but wasn’t fast enough. I hope it’s okay

“What happened to you!?”

“I rab indo a wall,” Chat Noir admitted around the hand holding his bloody nose, clutching Nino’s balcony rail with the other. “You should see da wall.”

“I’m sure it looks fine, unlike you!” Nino rushed to find where he’d left the tissue box in his room, pushing his laptop closed and hoping his surprise superhero hadn’t seen what he’d been doing.

By the time he returned with a wad of tissues, Chat Noir had stepped onto his balcony and tilted his head back to stare at the stars overhead, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he hadn’t been more concerned with the fact that he was bleeding, Nino would have admired the view.

“Is someone akumatized?”

“Doh,” Char Noir shook his head, pressing a tissue to his nose.

Nino stopped to consider that, the last few visits from Chat Noir had seemed to be just to check in. He’d stop by for a few minutes, ask how Nino’s night was going, listen to any stuff he’d been working on and then disappear into the night. It had been an odd series of social calls, but Nino had found himself looking forward to them, leaving the door open to let the air and stray cats in and composing to fill the silence of expectation.

“Then why the sudden befriending of a wall?” As he saw Chat Noir huff out a short laugh under cover of the tissues, Nino calmed from his initial worry.

“I tripped.” His words were coming clearer too and he took a deep breath through his no-longer-leaking nose.

“I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet?”

“I was in a hurry and I couldn’t wait.”

“In a hurry where?” Nino realized what Chat Noir’s silence, and especially his rather abashed look around the balcony and into Nino’s room meant. “Here?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d drop in. You know…” Chat shrugged almost sheepishly, shredding the leftover tissues between his claws. “Hear what you’re up to.”

Nino’s mind flashed to the track frozen in progress on his computer, remembered what he’d been experimenting with so far with.

“N-nothing, I’ve got nothing. It’s been quiet, dude… Besides you’re the superhero.” At least he’d got to join in a few times, gotten to protect the heroes that had been fighting to protect them all.

“I just fight villains and run into walls, you’re the one with the real magic in your fingers. Fitting all those notes together, finding the right instruments, I don’t know how you do it.” Chat played with his baton, flicking the end open and closed before muttering the last part. “If I could, I’d listen to your songs all night.”

Nino’s ears filled with a crescendo of blood, his heart drumming a little faster and he decided he might as well, it was meant for him anyway.

“It’s unfinished… but you can listen to what I have so far,” he offered, adjusting his glasses and unprepared for Chat’s head to whip up like he’d heard a siren, his slitted eyes wide with excitement.

“Really?”

“Really. Here.” Nino handed him his headphones, opening his laptop back up and pulling the progress bar back to the beginning. Chat pulled the headset on, it never failed to remind Nino of those cat-ear headphones that he sometimes saw online, and kept his hands pressed over the earpieces as if that would keep the music inside, safe and sound.

“Ready?” Chat Noir’s eyes flicked down to read Nino’s lips before nodding, and he pressed play.

He knew the notes by heart now, the slow, almost languid start, the build-up, when the beat switched and grew more frenzied before returning to its original trill, and the part where he’d added in bells. It had been a surprising addition, but he’d given it a try, just for fun at first but he’d liked the playful ring they’d given it. He knew what to expect in his own music, but what he didn’t expect was the rapture with which Chat Noir listened, a smile growing on his face and Nino could’ve sworn his ears even twitched at one point, something he hadn’t thought the leather pair could do.

He also knew it cut off abruptly, only two-thirds of the way done, but Chat sat still for a good few seconds afterwards, as if unwilling to believe it had ended.

“What is it?” he asked finally, voice faint.

“It’s a theme song,” Nino supplied, closing his laptop again just to have something to do with his hands. “It’s meant to be your theme song.”

“T-that… that masterpiece is supposed to be my theme song? I love it! It’s like you got what it feels like to… to be vaulting over things and not running into walls but you captured it in music and it’s perfect!”

Nino blushed, about to protest that it wasn’t even done yet but Chat Noir grabbed him by the hand.

“And it was so you, too! I mean, all your music has you in it, but I could recognize the things you like, I don’t know how to say it about sound, but I recognized it.”

Nino blanked, mind trying to find how he’d managed to do that without meaning to. Sure, there were chords he favored and such, but he hadn’t meant to slip them in, but even as he played the melody over in his head, he could see it. Just like Chat had said.

“I guess I liked the thought,” he looked at Chat, headphones pulled down around his neck like Nino usually did, “It seems like fun, besides the running into walls bit.”

Chat laughed, easing the thickening atmosphere between them that Nino had thought would never end, and held a hand out.

“You let me hear it, now let me take you out. Without any more bloody noses, I promise.”

Nino glanced out the window, at the clear night and the bright moon, and let Chat take his hand.

#ninoir #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #chat noir #my writing #i tried my best and it's bedtime for me now #i'm sorry to bother

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Houroubing to Aruba, Chapter 4, (Branjie) - Blackhighheels

(read at AO3)

Chapter 4: You better catch me, bitch!

A loud groan, followed by a curse fills the penthouse and lets Jose know that Brock is up. He finds him sitting in bed, his head between his hands, eyes closed.

“Good morning sunshine!”

“Not so loud!” Another pitiful groan follows. “How are you up already? You had more to drink than me.”

“Puerto Rican alcohol tolerance… and also you old as fuck.” He smirks when Brock glares at him and decides that he should stop gloating and take care of his man instead. “Here, baby, open up,” he tells him and places two ibuprofen in his mouth before he hands him a bottle of water, which Brock empties in one go.

“Fuck, how much did we drink last night? And Marge and Magnus had the same… you think they’re still alive?”

“Met them when I went to get us some breakfast. They looked pretty alive, fresh and in colour to me. Told me to say hi to you and asked if we could repeat the night some time soon while we here.”

“Urgh! God no! I’m only drinking water for the rest of the stay.” Brock lets himself fall back, rolls onto his stomach and closes his eyes again.

“You want some coffee?”

“No.”

“Fruit salad?”

“No.”

“Then have some more water at least. Come on, twinkle toes.” Jose pats his butt lovingly.

“Fine,” Brock sighs, sits back up and accepts another small bottle of water. “What time is it?” he asks when he is done.

“Nearly noon. You should go shower, so we on time for our picnic extravaganza.” Brock makes a whining noise. “Or we can do it another day and you stay in bed?” Jose offers. And it’s his willingness to adjust the plans he was so looking forward to, that makes Brock finally get out of bed.

“No, we’re going. You already showered? Or do you wanna join me?”

“I’m gonna join you, but don’t think I don’t know you just want me with you so I can wash you and you can go on sleeping. I know your lazy ass when you hung over,” Jose teases, but goes ahead into the bathroom, starts the water and gets undressed while Brock makes a pitstop at the toilet before he joins him.

They both quickly brush their teeth before they step into the shower. Brock really feels more dead than alive while the warm water rains down on him. Jose soaps them both up and even washes his hair. “That’s what it gonna be like fifty years from now when I have to take care of you, boo?” There’s laughter in Jose’s voice before he tips Brock’s head back and rinses his hair out.

“Maybe it’ll be me taking care of you, who knows,” Brock replies and takes a towel of the rack. He places it on Jose’s head and rubs gently, then grabs another one and dries his own hair.

“Maybe,” Jose agrees after a while. The fact that Brock can even imagine them still being together so far in the future, old and wrinkly, does weird things to his chest, heart and stomach. He doesn’t burst into tears anymore now, like he did when Brock mentioned maybe getting married some time in the future, but it’s not something that he takes for granted either. Just a year ago this moment, heck even just this vacation together, was so far out of reach he couldn’t have dreamed it up. And now, here they are and Jose quickly pinches himself to make sure he is actually awake.

“What are you doing?” Brock asks him and must have seen it.

“Nothin,” he says quickly.

“Did you just pinch yourself?” Brock takes his arm and when Jose follows his eyes he can see the red mark clearly. “You did! Why?”

“I didn’t!” Jose lies and wraps the towel around his hips. The way Brock looks at him lets him know that he is aware of the lie, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls him close by his hips and kisses him.

“Good morning.” There is a gentle smile on his man’s face when they break apart, his arms stay wrapped around his waist.

“Morning,” Jose replies and puckers his lips a couple of times, asking for more kisses without words. Brock full-fills his wish and the pecks soon turn into a make-out session against the shower wall. “Had to make sure this was real and not a dream, you know, us talking about fifty years from now and all that,” Jose confesses when they stop.

“If your head felt like mine, you’d know it isn’t a dream,” Brock jokes, slaps his butt and steps out of the shower.

“As long as you don’t throw up, we good.”

They get ready as they do most mornings when they are both home. Brock gets dressed in the bedroom, while Jose runs back and forth between bathroom and bedroom, always forgetting something. When they are both finally dressed Jose douses himself in aftershave and cologne, while Brock uses deodorant and forgoes the shaving. Jose trims his stubble, combs his hair back and puts on his hat, after spraying it with even more cologne, while Brock steps outside on the balcony to smoke. By the time they are done it’s time to leave.

Henry hands them a backpack as well as a map, that Jose quickly passes on to Brock. Their way leads them along the beach, past palm trees, other hotels and resorts and a couple of fruit stands. The longer they walk the quieter it gets around them and by the time they reach their destination after about half an hour they are completely alone. They know they found their spot when they find a large, light blue picnic blanket with several pillows on top. A bottle of champagne in a cooler, two glasses and a picnic basket are also waiting for them underneath a divi tree on the beach. A large rock a couple of meters away makes the location secluded, not visible from the pathways and picture-perfect for a romantic picnic.

“One has to give it to Henry, he really knows what he’s doing. He must have prepared all this while we were walking here,” Brock says, takes off his shoes and sits down on the blanket.

“Knew Henry was our man for the job. What’s in there?” Jose asks and peeks into the basket. “Oh wow,” he says and then takes out one plate after another with different salads, fruits, dips, bread and small cakes. He spreads out the feast and checks the backpack they were given. Sure enough plates, cutlery, soft drinks and more can be found in it. Once everything is unpacked, Jose lies back, props his head up on his hand and gets comfortable. “You gonna feed me?” It’s meant as a joke, but Brock simply shrugs.

“What do you want?”

“Can you give me some bread, cheese and fruits?” Brock fills a plate with the requested items, but then continues to actually feed Jose. After a couple of bites they both have to laugh. “This shit sure looks more comfortable on TV.” With these words Jose sits back up and takes his plate from Brock so he can get himself something to eat.

“God, this is so good!” Brock moans once he has tried the food. “I really have to stop at the gym today. With all this delicious food I won’t fit into my costumes anymore otherwise.”

“I might join you, I could use a good work out as well. Otherwise I might lose my new flexibility,” Jose agrees. “But you shouldn’t worry about your weight, Brock. I think overall we both could use a couple of pounds more.”

“You remember my love handles when we first got together. I got so fat.”

“You weren’t fat! You put on happy weight because you were finally eating like a normal person and not skipping meals because of your anxiety. And I liked it. It was cute.” Jose smiles as he remembers the pictures from this time.

“It wasn’t cute.” Brock protests.

“Hey,” Jose asks and places a hand on Brock’s leg so he looks up. “It was cute, you were still hot and I liked it. Just accept it.”

“Fine,” Brock sighs and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “But you always think I look cute. I could be Silky’s weight and you’d still call me cute.”

“Can you imagine?” Jose grins widely and then giggles. “But it would limit our love life, cause you sure as hell wouldn’t go on top anymore. You’d squash me like those play-doh bugs in the game.”

“Wait until I tell Silky that you just questioned his qualities as a lover.”

“Ho, I didn't…” Jose bristles, then stops. “Ok, maybe I did,” he chuckles and scoots back so his back is resting against the tree trunk. “Silky called me this morning while you were still asleep.” Jose becomes serious.

“Did something happen?” Brock moves closer to him and places a pillow in his lap so he can balance his plate on it.

“Not really. The usual. Complained about some idiots online, talked about all the partying he done and how he got hit on but then went home alone. Got real weird when I told him what a dope time we having.”

“I know I told you before and I know you don’t wanna hear it, but I think Reggie is jealous of you.”

“Why? If he wanna go on vacation he can.”

“Jose, look at it from his perspective. He went on Drag Race with a plan. He wanted to be the next sensation, the next Miss Vanjie. And you know I love him, but it backfired for him, even though Ru loved him. Gigs got canceled, fans were put off by his behaviour. In the end he doesn’t even win the money. And you, you came back, rocked the competition, got booked more than ever and have all these opportunities. And while we fucked it up for a while, in the end the fact still stands that we got each other out of drag race, not matter what else happens. Reggie wants all that: Money, admiration, fame, love. Ok, not necessarily in this order, but, you know. And you have it all."

"But he my best friend, Brock. He always has my back and he was there when you dumped my ass.”

“I don’t say that’s not true, I know he is. But sometimes, like, I don’t know. Sometimes the way he acts around me annoys me.” Brock is done with his plate and places it in the empty picnic basket.

“Like how?” Jose hands him his empty plate as well.

“You remember the stupid fight we had on tour?”

“Still burned into my brain, boo.”

“Before we finally talked when we got back, I talked to Steve, told him what was going on and asked him what I should do. And he, like, told me to accept that I am a control freak and that it will clash with your chaos and that all we could do was talk about it. He told me he’d fly in, if we didn’t resolve it and lock us in or something. He calmed me down and reminded me of all the fun we had on tour and how much we love each other.”

“Aw, I love Steve,” Jose coos and places his hand over his heart.

“I wasn’t there and I don’t know what Reggie said to you, but when I saw him again first time after our fight he basically told me, that, like, I should be grateful that you didn’t dump me, cause he would have done so. He made it sound like it was all my fault. Maybe he was just being shady, but it was all too fresh and I decided not to say anything to him because I didn’t want to fight.”

“He not your biggest fan no more, cause he had to listen to me cry one time too many after we ended. Then again when we were fucking around. He don’t understand why I loved you so much… love you so much, even after all the shit we did. He knows we both fucked up, but he didn’t see you cry. He never seen you, like I see you all the time, cause you always have your guard up when he around. He’s a shady bitch, you a shady bitch and he kinda don’t understand that you not like this with me.”

“You could be right. I never thought about it like that.” Brock contemplates it and lays down, between Jose’s legs, places his head on his chest. “When he’s around we’re usually going out partying or just don’t spend much time together. I don’t think I ever had a really deep talk with him about anything. I tried once or twice, but he was being so extra I just gave up.”

“Want me to talk to him?” Jose wraps his arms around his shoulders and holds him tight.

“I think I’ll try on my own first and if I don’t succeed… yeah. I’d love to be as close with Reggie as you are with Steve.”

“I love Steve,” Jose placed a kiss on Brock’s hair.

“Sorry, boo, he’s taken,” Brock chuckles.

“You such a dumb-ass sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?” Brock asks and strokes his nose over the exposed skin of Jose’s chest, kisses his collar bone, then his neck.

“Mmmh, rest of the time you alright,” Jose smirks before he leans down and seeks out Brock’s mouth with his. The kiss starts slow, but becomes deeper after a couple of minutes. To get more comfortable Jose slides down and rests his head on the pillow, before they continue their make-out session.

“Aren’t you glad right now I’m not heavier,” Brock mutters against his lips, then slips it back into Jose’s mouth before he can reply.

“Don’t care,” Jose says once he’s able to, then pulls Brock back down to him. Their tongues battle as they both breathe heavily. Brock slips one leg between Jose’s and starts moving his hips, grinding down on him, rubbing his growing erection against Jose’s thigh. Jo moves with him, moans loudly and grabs Brock’s ass with both hands so he can pull him even closer.

“God, Jo… fuck,” Brock moans and rips their lips apart to breathe, but doesn’t stop moving his hips.

“Brock… if we don’t stop I’m gonna come in my fuckin’ pants.” Jose replies, equally out of breath and horny as hell.

“Get rid of them then,” Brock orders and slips his own shorts down. They are made of a sweat material, so it’s a lot easier than taking off Jose’s tight jeans shorts. He manages in the end and Jose knows he is absolutely no help, squirming for as much skin contact as he can get. “Fuck, we need to get off this blanket or we’ll ruin it,” Brock remembers just before Jose finds his lips again.

“Shit!” Jose slumps down on the blanket. Then he remembers something and sits up. Quickly he digs through his fanny pack and takes out Brock’s wallet that he has in there. With a triumphant cry he holds up the condoms, throws the wallet down on the blanket. “Put it on,” he tells Brock as he pushes one of the squares in his hand.

“You serious?” Brock sniggers.

“Do I look like I’m joking? You know, neither of us is prepped and even a blow job would be too risky. We won’t go back with cum-stains on us or anything else.” When Brock takes too long Jose takes the condom back, rips the foil open and puts it on Brock himself. Then he lies back down, grabs the front of Brock’s shirt and pulls him back down between his legs, Brock’s arms coming to rest on each side of Jose’s head. This time their crotches touch directly, hard cock sliding against hard cock, the slickness of the condoms helping. They kiss deeply as they grind and rut against one another, Jose’s hands on Brock’s ass dictating the pace.

“Can't… this is not…can’t come like this,” Brock gasps after a while. They are both on the brink, but can’t make it over. And as nice as this is, they are still somehow in public and shouldn’t take unnecessary risk.

Jose slips a hand between them, takes both of their dicks in his hand and holds them closer, starts moving up and down. Bock keeps circling his hips, but it’s still not enough. Jose slips his other hand down as well and Brock has to lift his hips just a tad. He groans at the loss of contact. A second later he groans again, because his balls are being massaged gently. Now it’s enough! It only takes a couple of strokes and they both come; Brock with a gasp and Jose with a loud moan. Then they look at each other and start laughing, can’t believe what they just did.

“We losing it, toes. We can’t behave on a fucking public beach,” Jose states as he takes his condom off, ties it.

“I know. I can’t believe we just did that. We’re turning into horny teenagers.” Brock agrees and takes his condom off as well and places it in a paper napkin, then holds it out for Jose so he can place his there, too.

“We always horny, just not in public.” Jose pulls his shorts back up.

“God, I hope no one saw us.”

“I hope no one filmed us! Maybe this one of these places where some fucker is filming.”

“It would not make for a good porn movie. All one could see is my naked ass moving around and you had your hands there most of the time.”

“Then you better put your shorts back on before someone posts your ding-a-ling anyway.” Both keep laughing as Brock puts his shorts back on. When their eyes meet however they are right back where they started within seconds: Kissing each other silly on the blanket. This time Jose’s on top.

***

A large screen is set up on the beach, lanterns illuminate the huge round beach beds that are set up, one for each couple. Also each couple has a table and drinks are already waiting there for them. When asked both Jose and Brock chose beer, thinking it is a much safer choice than more champagne or cocktails. Brock takes a sip of his beer before he leans back against the cushions and Jose takes his own bottle with him as he snuggles up to his man.

“Have you seen this movie before?” he asks.

“Yes, I have, but way back when it came out. You?” Brock replies.

“Once during a movie night with friends at school, but I didn’t pay too much attention.”

“Too busy making out with your boyfriend?”

“No, girlfriend at the time,” Jose says and presses his lips against Brock’s cheek. “But I like making out with you wayyy more, even though you all scratchy right now.”

“You are not clean shaven either, papi,” Brock points out and Jose just chuckles and then takes a sip of his beer. Henry walks up to the screen, a microphone in hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to welcome you to our weekly movie night under the stars. Today we will show "Notting Hill” staring Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant. I hope you enjoy the movie. Afterwards we all invite you to stay and dance away to the most romantic movie songs of all times. Thank you!“

"Oh, dance night. Think we can stay and watch these straight people get it on on the dance floor?” Jose tilts his head up to look at Brock.

“If you behave during the movie.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he pushes himself up in a sitting position and Brock flinches, because he uses his stomach to do so.

“It means: No indecent yelling when you don’t like something, no insults, no throwing something at the screen, no sucking noises, no kicking of other people’s seats and keep your hands out of my pants,” Brock lists the things Jose has actually done in the past when they were at the movie theater.

“You boring,” Jose huffs and pouts but then has to laugh. He knows he’s done all of the things Brock just listed. He lies back down in Brock’s arms and puckers his lips again to get another kiss before the movie starts.

Jose really does behave this time and even manages to whisper his comments at a volume so only Brock hears him.

Brock surprises him when he quietly mouths along the words of the theme song when the couple on screen kisses for the first time. “All day long I can hear people talking out loud. But when you hold me near you drown out the crowd. Try as they may they can never define what’s being said between your heart and mine. The smile on your face lets me know that you need me.”

“You bet!” Jose whispers back and lets his fingers find the patch of skin that is exposed at the top of Brock’s shirt.

“There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me.”

“Try and get rid of me.”

“The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me wherever I fall.”

“If I can hold your tall ass.” Brock gives him a look that says ‘really?!’

“You say it best,” Jose smiles widely at that, happy about the compliments. This is so romantic. “…when you say nothing at all.” Brock continues and tries to keep a straight face, but fails.

“Asshole!” Jose’s voice can be heard over the movie as he slaps Brock’s chest hard. Brock erupts in a fit of giggles, that Jose and some other people soon join.

***

They stay after the movie is over, because they spot Magnus and Margaret at a table and join them again. Brock tells the story of his hang-over and Jose recounts their day and their picnic trip, but leaves out the dirty details. A make-shift dance-floor has been set up in the sand and some couples sway to whatever cheesy songs the DJ plays for them.

“Oh, I wish I could dance like this.” Margaret gushes and watches the dancing couples enviously when an upbeat Salsa rhythm is played. None of the couples are particularly good and Jose wonders what some of them are even doing. There are only four people who know the correct steps and only two out of those are in rhythm. “I’ve always wanted to learn Salsa, but Magnus here is not a big dancer and also there’s not much of an opportunity where we are from.” Jose exchanges a look with Brock, then gets up from his chair.

“Senorita, may I have this dance?” he bows down in front of the elder woman and holds out his hand with a large smile.

“Oh, darling, really. I can’t dance Salsa.” She is hesitant.

“I’m gonna teach ya. Come on!” He insists and helps her up when she takes his hand. They kick off their shoes before he leads her to the dance floor in the sand. Slowly, he shows her the steps, then leads her through the moves.

“Darling, this is so fast,” she laughs when she stumbles again, but Jose keeps her upright.

“You can also fake it, Mary. Just swing your hips like this and shuffle your feet a bit,” he tells her and shows her how to move her hips the right way.

“Are you a professional dancer?” she laughs when she sees what he’s doing.

“Just Puerto-Rican,” he avoids answering the question directly and twirls her around. When the song ends, he carefully dips her back and they both laugh. Brock and Magnus applaud when they get back to the table.

“Did you see that Magnus? Your old wife knows how to dance Salsa!” Margaret is still out of breath as she sits down beside her husband.

“You looked good out there, papi,” Brock compliments and pecks Jose’s lips when he’s back in his seat.

“Coming from you, twinkle toes, that’s a real ass compliment. ” Jose feels really proud when he hears the praise and also sees it in Brock’s eyes. “He’s a ballerina,” Jose tells their new friends.

“Was… was a ballet dancer,” Brock laughs.

“Your feet are still fucked up, so I get to say "is”.“

"See, I told you,” Margaret tells her husband. “The first time we saw you, I told him that you had to have some ballet training because of the way you carry yourself."

"Nailed it!” Jose exclaims.

“And what do you think he does?” Brock asks curiously and points to Jose.

“Oh, that’s harder… I don’t know. Maybe something in showbiz? You said you’re from L.A. and there’s something about you… Jose, I think you belong on stage. I don’t know, if that really is your job, though or you’re like… an account by day, but you absolutely should be on stage.”

“You good. Real good,” Jose is genuinely impressed by her assessment.

“So you are? Am I right? Are you an actor?”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Brock sniggers.

“Bitch, you doing the same stupid shit as me, so stop laughing,” Jose swats at his chest.

“True,” Brock nods. “You got your phone here?”

“Yeah, need to take some cute ass pics of us. Why?”

“How about we show them? I’m sure you still have those videos of the tour saved.”

“You bet I do,” Jose says with pride, because the videos of him and Brock on stage together during their first tour are his favorite thing ever. He hands his phone to Brock, who unlocks it with his pin, then flips through the videos he has saved and throws him an incredulous look when he realises how many naked pics and videos of him Jose has saved up. Then he chooses a video of the two of them dancing to a Rihanna remix that features both the elegance and sluttiness of Brooke Lynn and the hood style and heart of Vanjie.

Brock moves his chair closer to their the elder couple while Jose gets up and stands behind them, so he can see the video as well.

“Oh my god! That’s you?” Margaret gasps when the camera zooms in on their faces and she realises what she is watching.

“Kind of,” Brock chuckles. “We’re professional drag queens and this is what we do for a living.”

“Unbelievable!” Magnus says. “Are you in Vegas or something? I’ve never seen anything like this!”

“You’re both so beautiful!”

“I used to be in a couple of Vegas shows. We also touring, did some Broadway and West end, TV shows. Brock is a host on a TV show in Canada… we kinda do it all for the money money money.”

“So, you are both dancers, just in women’s clothes. This is so good! Let us know if you ever come to Sweden and we will come and see your show!” Margaret is so enthusiastic about it she is basically vibrating in her chair.

“I think we have a show coming up in Stockholm. I’ll check it later and let you know tomorrow,” Brock promises.

“But if you are both dancers then why are you sitting here with us old folk and aren’t out there dancing?” Magnus asks.

“Dunno if all these straight couples would like us romancing it up on the dance floor,” Jose replies, uncharacteristically shy. He is usually never like this, but he is not home, he knows none of these people and he can’t remember when he was in an all straight environment for days the last time. Surely not since he moved out of his mother’s house at seventeen.

“Oh darling, if they do, just ignore them. Idiots can be found everywhere, even here in paradise,” Margaret turns around and pats his arm.

“You know what, Margaret is right,” Brock decides and gets up. “You wanna dance?” he asks Jose just as a new song comes on.

“Really?” Jose’s eyes widen.

“Really. Let’s go dance.”

“We’ve never danced together like this,” Jose says as they make their way to the beach dance-floor.

“Then that’s a good time for it. Question only is, if you gonna let me lead,” Brock smirks. He wraps his arms around Jose’s waist, while Jose’s wrap around his neck, his head resting on his shoulder and they start to sway to the song.

“J.Lo played this. It’s Maid in Manhattan.”

“What?” Brock doesn’t understand what he is taking about.

“The song, 'Fall again’ is from the movie 'Maid in Manhattan’ and J.Lo plays the lead.”

“You’re right. I love the movie. The kid is so cute.”

“And Ralph Fines is kinda hot in it.”

“Urgh… he can’t be hot in anything. He is Voldemort,” Brock scrunches up his face and Jose guffaws, then hides his face in Brock’s shoulder again.

“You can’t turn away, the past is said and done. I need us to carry on,” Jose mouths along with the words, the words spoken against Brock’s neck. When Jose looks up and smiles, he gets lost in Brock’s eyes and kisses him while they keep dancing.

They break apart with laughter when the next song starts and they both recognise it, like almost all other couples. Strangely most men flee the dance floor, while the women rush over to dance, singing along with the famous song.

“Can you do it?” Jose asks Brock mischievously and of course Brock knows what he’s talking about.

“Sure, we did similar stuff on tour all the time. And if we fall, at least it’s sand and not a hard stage floor,” Brock agrees.

“Let’s show these straight people how you do it,” Jose exclaims excitedly and they start re-enacting the choreography of Dirty Dancing’s 'Time of my life’- at least the parts they remember.

At first no one really takes notice of what they are doing. They scream the lyrics along with the rest of the people, goof off by twirling each other around and give each other exaggerated longing looks, before having a giggle fit. Then however Brock lifts Jose up and twirls him, just like in the movie and a circle forms around them. Aware of the audience they get a bit more serious about what they are doing and start the show for real.

“There’s no stage to jump off,” Brock laughs when he remembers what’s next.

“You can do it,” Jose laughs and watches when Brock jumps up and does the triple tour barefoot, in his shorts and T-shirt. The crows cheers when he lands. “That’s my ballerina!” Jose yells with glee and winks at Margaret and Magnus, who have joined the crowd watching them. Jose dances over to them and dances with Margaret again, while Brock dances with a couple of other women, until their eyes catch when they know the big moment is coming.

“You ready?” Brock yells over to him.

“You better catch me, bitch!” Jose yells back before he starts running, jumps and Brock holds him over his head in the iconic pose of the movie. “Yes! I’m flying!” Jo screams over the applause of the spectators. Brock nearly drops him because he starts laughing so hard. He manages to get him down safely and they exchange a couple of kisses between laughter and then simply goof around some more for the rest of the song.

When it ends and they leave the dance floor with Margaret and Magnus and walk back over to their table, they get stopped a couple of times and are complimented and praised and even get friendly pats on the backs from their volleyball buddies.

“Here,” Magnus says when they sit back down and hands Jose his cell phone. “I don’t know much, but I know you don’t need to unlock the phone to take pictures and videos. I hope I got it all.”

“You filmed our dance?” Brock exclaims happily, excited that they have this moment on camera.

“I hope so.” Jose checks his phone and clicks through the video. It’s all there. The whole dance.

“Magnus, I could kiss ya!” Magnus only taps his right cheek with one finger and Jose places a loud smooch on it. Then he watches the whole video, keeps replaying it and shows his favorite parts to Brock. “Hey, Brock?”

“Yes, Jose, you can upload the video on instagram with whatever crazy caption you’ve come up with. Don’t forget to tag me.”

“How did you…?” Jose is speechless.

“I know you, papi.” Brock chuckles and kisses him softly.

Ten minutes later two clips of the video are uploaded to Jose’s instagram account. Caption says: Miss Vanjie, Miss Brooke Lynn, Do a spin, do a dip, just jump on the dick. #nobodyputmytwinkletoesinthecorner #dirtydancingdonetheVanjieway #Brocktakin'metonewHytes

TBC

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #fluff #smut #drama #canon compliant #houroubing to aruba #blackhighheels

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lokidokitom · 6 years

Text

Play-Doh

Summary: Loki X Reader story. Loki helping you babysit and ends up playing with Play-Doh

Words: 1256

Notes: @missroseofficial and I were talking about how cute it would be for Loki to play with Play-Doh so this sorta just happened. Sorry if there’s any mistakes! This is also my first story ever so be nice please :)

You receive a call one night from your sister, asking if you can babysit your 4 year old niece the next day. You agree quickly. You can’t remember the last time you spent a day with your niece, completely forgetting Loki was coming over to spend the day with you.

Getting an idea, you call him up.

“Would you like to help me babysit my niece tomorrow?” You blurt out nervously as soon as he picks up.

“Uh! What?” he responds, confused.

“My sister has to work tomorrow and she asked me to look after my niece for the day. I was just wondering if you’d like to come along?”

“Oh! Darling, you know I’m not one for children.” You can practically hear him shutter through the phone.

“Oh please Loki. I really want to spend the day with you.” You hear him sigh, his defense slowly breaking. “She’s not a lot of trouble. She’s really quiet and keeps to herself most of the time.” Another sigh. “You can bring your book,” you say holding your breath.

“Alright, Darling. You had me at ‘book’.”

The next day, you show up at your sister’s doorstep with a bored looking Loki following close behind.

Your sister opens the door looking rushed.

“Hey, thanks so much for coming.”

“Hi! It’s my pleasure.”

“Alright, I already have to go. She’s just in the living room watching her shows. She just had breakfast an hour ago so she shouldn’t be hungry for a while.” My sister kept talking while grabbing all her thing. “You have my cell number if anything goes wrong?”

“Yes I do. Everything will be fine.” You smile at her reassuringly.

“Ok. I really need to go. Bye Sweetie! I’ll be home before supper time!” She yells in the direction of the living room and doesn’t get a response. “Bye guys, thanks again.” She says while running out of the door.

You go into the living room to see your little niece sitting in a big chair with her blanket and teddy bear next to her, totally engrossed in her show. You walk over to the chair and kneel down to her level.

“Hello there, Princess.”

She finally looks over at you and a big smile comes across her face. She puts down her blanket and hugs you around your neck.

“I’ve missed you so much little one. Are you watching your favorite show?”

She nods then puts her teddy on her legs to make room for you next to her. Once you’re all settled in, you look over at the doorway to see Loki still standing there looking awkward.

“You can come in you know.” You snicker when he just huffs at you.

He walks over to the large sofa in the corner and makes himself comfortable. He lifts his long legs on the sofa and takes out his book. His eyes look up to you watching him and you smile before paying attention to the TV. He just smirks and finds his page.

Your niece’s show ends and she looks up to you with a sweet smile.

“Well, princess. Do you want to show me all your new toys?”

She nods and climbs into your lap so you can hoist her up in your arms.

“Why do you call her that?” Loki asks, looking up from his book.

“Call her what?” You ask confused.

“Princess, I didn’t think your sister was a Queen.”

“Oh! No she’s not. Princess is a term of endearment. Like sweetie or darling.” You blush thinking of Loki’s pet name for you.

“Thank you for clarifying that, Darling.” Loki winks at you before going back to his book.

After a while in your niece’s room, she started getting tired so you tucked her into her bed and went back to the living room finding Loki exactly where you left him.

“Where is the Princess?” He asks you, putting his book down. You smile at him calling her that.

“She was getting tired so she’s taking a nap,” you says while taking a seat nex to him on the sofa.

“Tired already? You humans are so strange.” He pulls you close by putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Then why are you dating one?” You respond cheekily.

He leans his head onto the back of the sofa, closes his eyes and smiles. You also feel him pinch you on the shoulder. You laugh and slap him on the chest before getting up.

“I’m gonna go start dinner before she wakes up.”

“Do you want any help?” Loki asks.

“No I’m okay. You can keep reading.” You kiss him on the cheek before going into the kitchen.

You put some music on then get to work.

In the living room, Loki is so immersed in his book that he doesn’t notice the little girl standing in the doorway. She watches him for a few seconds before walking over to him. Loki, seeing some movement over his book, puts it down to see her looking up at him with curious eyes.

“Oh, uh. Hello there.” He puts his book down and looks at her.

She tilts her head and seems to be making a decision before she picks up his hand, silently asking him to follow her.

“Oh, okay.” He lets the young child bring her to her bedroom. She slaps him in front of a small table and she takes a seat. She then tugs on his hand again to make him sit next to her on another small chair.

He gets as comfortable as he can and watches her silently. She grabs a couple of small containers, opens them up, emptying their contents on the table. They just look like colorful little blobs.

She looks over at him and mutters a quick “Color?”

“Yellow,” he responds quietly.

She grabs the yellow blob and puts it in front of him. She then grabs the orange one and smashes it between her fingers.

Not knowing what to do, Loki just watches her work. She splits the Playdoh, having read the name on one of the containers, in two and squishes them down.

Being curious, Loki takes the yellow ball in his hand and squishes it. Finding the texture funny, he keeps playing around with it.

The little girl had started making a flower with the dough. Getting an idea, Loki started designing his helmet. After fighting for bit, he finally got the horns to stay up.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, you’ve just finished setting the table for lunch. The food is all ready to be eaten so you leave the kitchen to go wake up your niece.

You turn the corner and you’re about to walk into the room but you stop dead in your track at the sight before you.

There’s about half a dozen Playdoh flowers on the table in front of your niece and in front of Loki is his helmet and a couple daggers.

“What are you guys doing?” You ask, startling Loki.

“Oh! The child w-wanted me to play with her and this, uh, s-sort of happened,” he stutters out and blushes.

“You are so cute,” you say, not even trying to stop the huge smile on your face.

Loki looks up at you in wonder before a smirk appears on his face.

“Alright, it’s time for lunch.”

Your niece gets up and grabs Loki’s hand again, tugging him towards the kitchen.

“Am I being replaced?” You ask humorously.

Loki grabs your hand and looks deep into your eyes.

“Never.”

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

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gutterballgt · 7 years

Note

Have you gotten a FIGHT ME yet? I mean.... it's Chaleigh.... XD. Soooo.... FIGHT ME..... or NURSE ME

Leave a “Fight Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble outone character fighting with/or against another.

Leave a “Nurse Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble aboutone character healing another.

Mwahahahah, excellent! You get BOTH! Because it’s chaleigh, and we heckin LOVE it!

“I’m just saying–”

“And I said shut the fuck up, you fuckinghas-been!”

Raleigh ducked, resigned but still trying. He’d promisedHerc, who had damn near broken down with frustration and fear for his kid’sstate of mind. He’d promised to keep trying, no matter what.

Even punching.

“Will you please just listen for a–”

That punch landed,a right cross that knocked him back a step and left the inside of his cheekfeeling like raw hamburger. Dammit. It wasn’t a full-force hit, likely becausethe big ginger jerk had expected him to dodge, but it was bad enough that hetasted the copper tang of blood.

Gritting his jaw and ignoring the flare of pain in hischeek, he told himself he wouldn’t escalate this to an actual fight. Right now,it was just Chuck blowing off steam and trying to chase him off.

He would not punchback.

Unfortunately, he took a good, hard look at the asshole’sface and the smug, stubborn smirk all over his stupid, freckled face and…yeah. He would probably be punching back.

No. He had more control than this. He wasn’t the stupid,reckless kid he used to be. The stupid, reckless kid Chuck still was.

A stupid, reckless kid who was spinning out with survivorguilt and a loss of purpose and refused to seek help from the people who caredabout him or the professionals provided by the PPDC.

Dammit.

If he gritted his teeth any harder, he might actually breakone. “Chuck. I know you think you can–” Duck. “–handle thisyourself. I know–” Deflect and sidestep. “–you think it’ll go awayon its own. But it–” Dodge and fists in pockets, just in case.“Dammit, Chuck! Fucking stop and listen to me for a–”

Because Chuck had been a brawler in their hallway fight andhad been throwing heavy punches just now, Raleigh didn’t expect the big bruiserto drop down and sweep his legs. He was on his back like a flipped-over turtlebefore he truly knew what had happened, and his instincts kicked in before hisreason could throw up a protest.

The fight was fucking on.

He rolled away from the stomp at his chest and came upswinging. Now that he was fully engaged, he had no intention of losing. Therewas no world-saving mission waiting at the end of this fight to hold him back.This little prick had already punched him and landed him on his ass. Raleighhad no intention of letting him get any more.

Unfortunately, a few exchanged punches and kicks later, boththeir knuckles were split, and Raleigh landed a truly epic jab that could havebroke the brat’s nose. It was sudden and unexpected for both of them, becauseuntil then, they’d been surprisingly evenly matched. But Raleigh expected thekid to dodge and Chuck just… didn’t.

Blood pattered on the floor, loud in the sudden silence. AndChuck just… stood there. Made no move to cover his nose or stop the flow oreven really react to the hit.

Almost as if he’d wantedto be hit.

Well. Shit.

“Chuck?” He didn’t let his guard down, but he didstart to feel like a real asshole. “You okay?”

But the kid still just stood there, head slightly turned andbent down, blood all but fauceting from his nose. It was almost like Raleighhad somehow found his off switch and kicked it right through the wall.

Worried now, he stepped forward, half-expecting the whole pauseto be a ploy of some sort, but Chuck was gone. Not ready-to-pass-out gone butjust… out of it.

And his nose was still going like a low-powered geyser. Shit.

Luckily, he’d caught the brat on the way to the showersafter a stint in the jaeger bay, so it only took a moment to duck into the outerroom and grab a towel. He didn’t tilt the kid’s head back, just bundled thetowel under his nose and pinched the bridge with it to staunch the flow.

“Jesus, kid, I’m sorry.” And he was. Now.“Thought you’d dodge that one. I swear I didn’t track you down just tobreak your nose.” But he was still Raleigh Becket, so he couldn’t preventa hint of a smirk. “Again.”

It didn’t get a response. Chuck stood passive and stillunder his grip. The worry came rushing back, and he briefly debated walking thekid to the medical bay with the hopes of also sitting the kid down with one ofthe staff therapists. Unfortunately, he figured the big idiot would just cometo his senses and walk away with a few choice words. And maybe a few morepunches.

So, he carefully took his problem child by the upper arm,relieved when that big body followed along with a gentle tug. He didn’t daretake him to Chuck’s room, which was right by Herc’s. He doubted Herc wouldblame Raleigh for the fight, but the Hansen family relationship was still rockyand full of mines, so any possibility of salvaging the situation would probablyfly out the window as the kid deflected to a different sort of anger.

If he could just talk to the kid like this, alone, withoutthat hair-trigger attitude preventing even the start of a conversation….

So, keeping a careful eye on the vacant expression on thatusually arrogant face, he slowly led the way to his own bunk. He was prettysure he had ice in his mini fridge, which should at least prevent swelling andmaybe help stop the bleeding. And he could hopefully talk with the kid while heapplied the ice.

Soon enough, he’d settled that big body on the edge of his bedand lifted one of Chuck’s limp hands to hold the towel in place so he couldrummage up an ice pack. It was easy enough to crack a few ice cubes into a handtowel and wrap them up. It was slightly less easy to sit himself next to hisrival and gently urge the bloody towel down enough to press the ice pack to thebridge of his nose, but he did it.

He even reached up to cup the back of the kid’s head andkeep it from tilting back. The muscles in his legs felt as twitchy as a cat’swhiskers with the expectation that the fog would suddenly lift and Chuck wouldgo back to trying to knock his head off, but for now, he managed to play nursewithout incident.

“I really am sorry, you know.”

The big body heaved a sigh. “Yeah. I doh.”

He stifled an urge to snark at the nose-clogged tone. Thiswas definitely not the time.

“I’m just… worried about you. We all are.”

Another sigh, this time accompanied by rolling eyes inrapidly-bruising sockets.

So Raleigh sighed, too. “Chuck, c'mon. You think Idon’t have survivor guilt? You think I don’t have screaming nightmares and panicattacks and suicidal depression and PTSD?”

The kid shifted but didn’t respond. More importantly, hedidn’t jerk away from the ice on his face or the bloody towel under his nose.

“Can’t you just go to one appointment? What would ithurt? No one will think less of you.” He huffed, but held the pressuresteady. “Hell, we’re all goingto therapy. Even–”

Oops. Probably not a good idea to mention Herc right now.

Fidgeting at the near-miss, he shut his potentiallytraitorous mouth and called the conversation as good as it could be. Theyhadn’t exactly talked, but he’d at least been able to convey everyone’s concernand suggest a solution without interruption.

And all it took was a bloody nose. And several bloodyknuckles. And some bruises they’d both be feeling for a week or so.

Jesus, this fucking stubborn-ass kid.

Finally: “I doh, okay?” Another heavy sigh, andthe big jerk leaned a bit into the pressure on his face. “I doh I deed togo. It scares deh shit out of be, yeah?”

“I get that.” And he did. It had taken all ofMako’s persuasive powers to get Raleigh to go to that first appointment. Andall his own will to go to the second one. “And it’s not easy. I’m notgonna lie. It’s the single fucking hardest thing I’ve ever done to make myselfgo and keep going.”

Wounded eyes finally met his. “Does it help?”

He’d better damn well be honest. “Sometimes.” Acareful shrug. “Sometimes not. Sometimes, it almost feels worse.”

Damn if those big grey eyes looked more wounded still. Andscared. “Den why deh fuck do you keep going?”

The corner of his mouth twitched on something that wasn’tquite a grin. “Because Yancy would’ve wanted me to. And because recoveryisn’t linear. It isn’t even an upward arc. It’s a goddamn mountain range ofpeaks and valleys.” This twitch was a little closer to a grin. “Butthe peaks get higher every time, and the valleys aren’t always so low.”

Damn those eyes. Raleigh was fairly certain thatwould-be-trusting, still-scared look would haunt his dreams tonight. It was theexpression of a child seeing their parent open the closet door just before theyturn on the light to prove the monster isn’t really there.

“You swear?”

He was tempted to make a joke. But he wouldn’t.

“I swear.”

Chuck looked away and shifted, still not pulling away.“Could I baybe… sit in on one of yours? See how it goes? What toexpect?”

He hesitated, even knowing he might be undoing any slightprogress he might have made. Just… his therapy sessions were… personal.Painful, sometimes. Frustrating when he didn’t feel any progress. Did he reallywant to give Chuck Hansen, asshole extraordinaire, that kind of ammo to use onhim next time the mood struck?

But those broad shoulders started to slump, and, like hisyounger self, Raleigh did something impulsive and just hoped for the best.

“Okay.”

That got the kid’s attention, and fast. “Yeah?”

He finally managed an actual grin, crooked though it was.“Yeah. I’ll probably have to sign some consent forms, but I think mytherapist will be okay with it if she knows what it’s for.”

The relief all over the top half of the kid’s face wasextraordinary. “Thanks, bate.” The corners of those bright eyescrinkled, suggesting an answering grin. “Sorry ‘bout the cheek. And theribs.”

Surprised, he felt his eyebrows shoot up but managed to keepfrom snorting incredulously. Maybe they were past the point of cutting sarcasmand weaponized snark, but maybe they weren’t.

So: “Water under the bridge?”

The brat even went so far as to elbow him lightly withoutshoving him far enough away to mess up the nose treatment. “Good.”

Raleigh’s next appointment was three days away, so as soonas he was sure the bleeding had stopped and sent the kid on his way with theice pack and a promise to take care of the splits over his knuckles – and areturn promise to take care of his own – he sat down and typed out an emailexplaining the situation to his therapist and asking if Chuck could sit in. Theresponse was almost immediate: her assistant would have the paperwork readywhen they arrived for the session.

It was all but done.

And when Chuck knocked on his door later that evening,sheepish and shuffling his feet and bruised around the eyes, to ask if maybeRaleigh would sit with him at supper, he agreed without really thinking aboutit. They didn’t have to talk, the big dork hurriedly promised. He was justtired of sitting by himself or avoiding Herc.

Which was how he found himself sitting with Chuck at supperthat night and at breakfast and lunch the next day. Mako joined them for supperthe next night. Tendo for a quick chat over bagels and coffee the next morning.

Herc for lunch the next day. Chuck sat tense and quietbeside him… but didn’t get up and stalk away.

It was a start.

Raleigh would gladly take it.

THE END

#chaleigh #pacific rim #ask meme #these fucking clownshoes #I LOVE THEM TOO MUCH

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stylessemantics · 7 years

Text

Lick

Lips part two? Continuation? Sandbox? Thing? Because someone said this scenario should continue... And I agreed cause it’s a weakness and I had a plan... or did I? I don’t know, it didn’t pan out...

I encourage you to read Lips before this one though.

It would be a lie for Harry to say that he didn’t stare at you a lot. Specially after the little incident a few weeks back.

If he was to be honest with himself, the small interaction only made him more aware of his staring, and it only made him stare more. It wasn’t a lie that he looked at your lips, and now he wasn’t stopping. The few days after the fated incident consisted of him stumbling over his words cause he was so lost in every conversation. It was a horrible cycle. He stared at you which made him lose his train of thought and not be able to speak properly, which in turn made you stare at him messing up his sentences and laugh or just stare in wonder, which would make him focus back on you and start it all over again.

Somehow, he understood you. He didn’t know why he did it, he just knew he did, and something about knowing you’re doing the same to him just turned on some natural response that was out of his control. He had to look at yours too. And maybe you didn’t know why you looked at him, you just did, which was what he was going through now more than ever... He was okay with that. He wanted more, sure, but he didn’t know how to make it more, so he stuck with looking and pining and pinching at his own mouth whenever you licked yours; something he now knew you did very often and was driving him insane little by little.

Staring is what got you into the mess you and Harry seemed to be in right now. No words had been spoken about that day after you had bolted away from each other at the sound of your best friend coming in the kitchen; and there hadn’t been another chance for Harry to inch close to you and finish what he thought had started that night. Staring is what made him so itchy and needy.

Staring is what got him where he is right now, and he’s glad.

For some reason the pile of loud people you called your friends seemed to always end up close to your place, even if it was for a nice afternoon outside, which was the case today. You avoided Harry’s stare, having become more careful with your looks since that other night, but he was fixed on you more than he liked to admit. The lads were being lads, tossing a ball around and having a laugh, again poking fun at Harry for calling soccer ‘footie’ and for his not so amazing coordination while playing the game.

It would be like watching a movie from a different perspective. As you spoke to one of your friends Harry would just trace your mouth with his sight and analyse how it moved. Your small Oh’s and very big Ah’s. Your throaty laugh and shiny lips. And then he was in pain. Staring at you is what got him a ball to the face as he stood in the middle of the impromptu soccer game which he had forgotten about for a second too long.

The metallic taste of blood was eminent as he spit some out, and you rushed to him, immediately asking him to follow you inside. It was your house after all, so you were in charge of getting the med-kit and treating his bloody wound.

A busted lip. Your favourite thing of his to look at was now busted open and bleeding and your palms were sweaty at the thought of touching it just to make sure the wound cured properly.

He sat on your bathroom counter, legs open as you stood between them soaking whatever pad with whatever liquid and warning him it would sting. “Stay quiet, please” you mumbled dabbing at the open skin. His eyes focused on your busy mouth. Whenever you were focused on something you tended to bite your lip or leave your mouth open in a twisted ‘O’ that he adored. Your tongue would pop out every now and then and he found himself wanting to bite at it. “Will I be okay, doctor?” with his accent and the position he was in it sounded more like ‘Doh-tah’ and you had to keep yourself from giggling. Sure you were trying to stare less but that didn’t mean you didn’t still find his mouth and accent fascinating. “Perfectly fine. Just have to put sugar on it” His brow arched in confusion. “Sugah?” What for? You had brought the sugar from the kitchen with you. Brown sugar to be precise, and it made no sense to him whatsoever. Turns out brown sugar helps cuts in the mouth area to heal quick, it sort of urges the skin to reconstruct faster and it helps stop the bleeding. You told him this, to which he payed no attention to anything other than the way you formed your B sounds and your lips parted, as you gathered some grains in your hand. “Look up” you instructed and let the sugar fall and stick to his open gash. It was a strange feeling and he pouted trying to keep his bottom lip from touching his upper one and taking off the sugar. “Now, don’t lick it off”

You were very close, patting the sugar down with your index finger carefully, making sure the whole cut was covered and Harry couldn’t help but smirk as the rest of your fingers reached out to touch his chin and cupid’s bow. You couldn’t help it. You didn’t know why his mouth was so hypnotising to you but the trance was on once again and at this point it was almost as if you couldn’t even hold it back.

You were staring, and so was he. He didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you. Ever since that day he has wondered what it would be like but never actually reached for it in fear it wasn’t what you were after. But right now it felt like you were both on the same page. Like you were having a silent agreement that a kiss would be nice right about now. His eyes just stared at your face, running over it, paying attention to your eyes – that were downcast to his lips – and then your nose – it was pointy but round and he liked it. Wanted to bump his against it – and then his latest fascination; your mouth. He loved the arch, the natural pout, the rosy colour. It was like looking at it through a magnifying glass and he could see all the little marks and lines. And he wanted to taste them. In his mind it was impossible that this wasn’t some sign that something had in fact started that night.

His hand reached around your body, grabbing at the belt-loops in your jeans and tugging you closer to the counter, closer to him. “Harry...” you whimpered. Your mouth felt dry from the tension, but you knew that if you were to lick your lips you would end up touching your tongue to his and the thought of it made you shiver as his fingers pulled you closer. “Won’t lick it off...” he started as you regained your breath from the close proximity of your faces. His nose bumped with yours ever so slightly, making chills run down your spine and goosebumps raise on the back of his neck as he finished with a whisper “if yeh promise not to lick it off me, either...”

I still don’t know what this is but I might know where it’s going? Not completely sure. It’s another piece like Lips and kind of like a second part but then again... Lips wasn’t even supposed to exist in the first place. So I’m not sure giving it a part 2 was the best idea. Giving it a part 3 might be an even worse idea but whoops. Feedback?

kay, bye. Iv. xo.

#a little something #lick #lips #LIPS part dos #lips part 2 #lips II #my writing #harry styles #a bit of Harry!talk #harry!talk #babbles about harry #masterlist

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bushraslifestyle · 5 years

Text

How To Develop Fine Motor Skills In Children

This post about fine motor skills is brought to you by Dr. Kathryn Garforth. She has a passion for helping individuals with special needs reach their fullest potential! She has both the professional expertise in special education and a personal understanding, as an individual with a learning disability, to help individuals and their families succeed.

When she isn’t working with clients or blogging, she is chasing her own three children and spending time in her garden. If you would like to know when Dr. Garforth has a new post, follow her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/GarforthEducation/

I know this post is not related to my niche, but it’s important to me as I have a little girl with down syndrome and I am very keen to learn anything which could improve my daughter’s skill levels. I wish the same for the other parents of disabled children. Hence, once in a blue moon, I love to publish something relevant to this.

Read our story about down syndrome

Let’s Learn About Fine Motor Skills

In today’s digital world it is straightforward to sit your child in front of a screen, as a distraction to them, to give you a few moments to yourself or a chance to cross something off of that never-ending to-do list you have. Unfortunately, while this keeps them quiet and busy, it does not do much for developing their fine motor skills.

The Definition Of Fine Motor Skills

Fine motor skills refer to the small movements that are made using the small muscles in your hands, wrists, and fingers (Technically, they are also involved in the movement of your toes, lips, and tongue, but that is for another conversation).

Causes Of Poor Fine Motor Skills

Poor fine motor skills can be caused by many reasons, including low muscle tone, poor hand-eye coordination (insufficient visual-motor control), poor posture, poor core strength, and dysgraphia.

One significant factor in the overall decrease in fine motor skills among the general population is due to a change in how young children typically spend their days.

Their development is very important for everyday tasks, like getting dressed and ready for school, plus numerous events throughout the school day. If you want to learn more about what fine motor skills you can do with your child in the spring, I will include a link at the bottom to check out relevant posts from my blog.

Fine Motor Skill Activities

Most kids I know don’t like to be told what to do, especially when it is something that is ‘good for them’. In order for a child to buy-in to repeatedly practicing a skill, it has to be fun and not seem like something they are forced to do.

Luckily, there are many activities that promote fine motor skills that children can do and they don’t even realize they are working on them. Some activities that young children love to do that also work on their fine motor skills, including cutting paper with scissors, stacking blocks, playing with bead mazes, coloring, and more. In my house, one of our favorite activities is to play with Play-Doh and there are many ways you can encourage fine motor skill development while playing with it.

Fine Motor Skills And Play-Doh

One of my favorite ways to work on fine motor skills is by bringing out our box of Play-Doh and accessories to let the kids play (As the hand muscles develop, I like to so some of these activities with plasticine, because it provides more resistance). It allows them to be creative, works on their fine motor skills, it keeps them quiet, and will usually give me at least 45 minutes to get a few things done. In this post, I will share some great ways you can use Play-Doh (or plasticine) and easily accessible objects. You may already have some of these objects in your home, and if you don’t, you can find most of them at your local dollar store.

1- Pretending You Are Running A Bakery

Children love to play make-believe. Growing up, I can remember pretending to run a bakery with my siblings when we were playing with Play-Doh. We would make cookies, doughnuts, and pizza for our Mom to enjoy.

When running a bakery, it is very important to make sure you have all the right tools. Using tools like rolling pins, cookie cutters. and spatulas can really help the fine muscles in the hands develop. Using a rolling pin to flatten the Play-Doh helps strengthen the hands and fingers. Using cookie cutters to make the dough into shapes encourages the use of the pincer grasp (This is using your thumb and pointer finger. The name “pincer grasp” always makes me think of a crab pinching with its front claws). After making the shapes with the cookie cutters, peeling away the excess dough also encourages the pincer grasp. Finally, use a spatula to display the cookies nicely as if they are in a display case. The spatula helps with hand strength and improves wrist motion.

Kids love this little toy! https://amzn.to/30wAmXw

2- Beading Practice With Play-Doh

I have seen this activity done using several different materials based on what you have on hand and what level your child is at. It is straightforward, you stick something into the Play-Doh that will stand up on its own and then thread beads onto it.

What I really like about this activity is that it is easier for children to do than lacing beads onto a string. Since the ‘thread’ is standing up on its own, the child does not have to worry about holding it still while trying to thread the ‘bead’ onto it. In the picture below my daughter was using spaghetti noodles to thread penne pasta onto. You could also use pipe cleaners, toothpicks, shish kabob skewers, and straws as the thread. Beads, cereal, pasta, candy, rolled up balls of play-dough and cut up straws can be used for beads.

If you want to challenge your child a little more, you can ask them to create a pattern with the different colors.

3- Pushing beads and gems into play dough.

If you go into the craft section of your local dollar store, you should have no problem finding beads, jewels, stones and gems to add to your Play-Doh accessories collection. Having your children add these items into Play-Doh with either their thumbs or one of their fingers helps build up the small muscles in their fingers and hands.

I like using the flower beads pictured below because when a child pushes the flower in with their bent thumb, they work on their thumb’s web space (the fleshy part between the thumb and the index finger). This is needed to hold a pencil in a tripod grasp with the thumb, index, and middle finger. Once they have pushed the beads in, they can make an ‘okay’ sign with their thumb and index finger and pinch them out. Pinching the beads and then pulling them out gives the opportunity for the child to retract (pull back) their fingers.

4- Playing With Kitchen Utensils And Play-Doh

My children love to raid the drawers in my kitchen to find different things to use while they are playing with Play-Doh. There are so many kitchen utensils that are fun to use when playing with Play-Doh aside from the commonly used rolling pin and cookie cutters. Some of these include a garlic press, a potato masher, a pastry cutter, a cheese grater, a strainer, a pizza cutter, a whisk, and scissors.

Using these tools can help various muscles in the hand. You are welcome to use the tools in your kitchen, but I would suggest washing them right away afterward because it is never fun trying to get the dried Play-Doh off them. Another option would be to go out and buy a set especially for Play-Doh from a yard sale, thrift store, or a dollar store.

Image credit goes to unsplash

5- Play-Doh Mats

The mats are lots of fun and can provide inspiration for when your child is not sure what to make. I printed off several Play-Doh mats I have found from different blogs and laminated them for extra durability. Older children may prefer to use plasticine so they can add more details. As you can see below, my toddler loves to use jewels and gems to decorate the Play-Doh on the mat. I ask my older children to make patterns when they decorate. We have even found Play-Doh mats that come with accessories you can cut out. I cut them out, laminate them, and then glue them onto toothpicks so they can be stuck into the Play-Doh.

Hand-Eye Coordination With Play-Doh

* As an added bonus, using Play-Doh also helps with hand-eye coordination and activities that require using both hands at one time. It can assist with bilateral coordination.

Play-Doh Recipe

1 cup flour

½ cup salt

1 cup water

2 tbsp cooking oil

2 tsp cream of tartar

Food coloring

Place all the ingredients in a large saucepan on high heat and continuously stir until the substance completely wraps around spoon in a soft, malleable glob.

Plasticine Recipe

2 cups flour

4-5 drops food coloring

1 cup of water

4 tbsp cornstarch

Mix together all the ingredients in a bowl until combined.

Spring Activities for fine motor skill

Winter Activities for fine motor skills

Helpful Toys To Improve Fine Motor Skills.

1- Learning Resources Spike The Fine Motor Hedgehog, Sensory Fine Motor Toy

This fun toy is very helpful to build your little one’s fine motor skills. It says for 18 months, but you can use it for up to a 3-year old child. The spikes are made of rubber and come in different colors. Your child can put them in and out of the holes in the hedgehog.

Learning resources is a great brand to with

This toy does not only help to build fine motor skills, but it also helps kids to learn about colors. An affordable toy to provide great learning skills.

Worth buying!

Once your child is done playing, you can store all your spikes inside of the hedgehog so, they don’t get lost.

2- Melissa & Doug Wooden Latches Board

This is one of the best toys you can buy for your child. It helps develop fine motor skills and improves so many other skills, such as gross motor skills in children. It’s ages 3 and up, but easily could be used all the way for children up to 5.

Kids enjoy it and build dexterity as they navigate latches that hook, snap, click and slide.

Mellisa & Doug is a trusted name to go with

3- Learning Resources Super Sorting Pie, Fine Motor Toy

It comes with number and patterns to a total of 68 Pieces. Good for up to five years of age. It helps children to learn early number skills, patterning, problem-solving, visual processing, and much more. Your child will be in love with this toy from head to toe.

The smart choice for helpful learnings!

4- BleuZoo Rainbow Counting Bears + Activity eBook

Comes with 60 bears, 6 matching cups, 2 tweezers, and a container. Kids love this awesome set. They can spend hours counting, sorting, matching, and playing with it.

The bears are designed to teach color recognition, sorting, fine motor skills, math, hand-eye coordination, and numbers. They work great with early childhood STEM and Montessori programs.

You will get an eBook in via email with tons of fun educational activities

5- Skoolzy Nuts and Bolts Fine Motor Skills Toddler Toys

Another great toy for kids to develop multiple skills. Comes with 24 pieces with 4 different shapes and 6 rainbow colors. Kids make their fine motor muscles strong by screwing and unscrewing the large plastic nuts and bolts.

Very affordable

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I Hope you like this wonderful and full of a knowledge blog post by Dr. Kathryn. Please, show her some love by leaving a comment below and visiting her site!

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