#Mustang Presents: Dad Jokes

[alchemic-elric]

Roy left a picture for his son on the kitchen counter.

There is a loud obnoxious laughter that escapes him as he stops to stare at the counter before starting to make dinner. Mismatched fingers raise to wipe the tears out of the corners of his eyes.

"Oooh that one's good. That one's real good."

He's lifting a magnet with his left hand to put it on the refrigerator.

||| @flameleads

#science saturday #mustang presents: dad jokes #flameleads #|| you're my papa and no one else | flameleads || #// oh how i missed science saturday

[g3m1n1fa1ry]

Chapter 1

Soleil Margaux stood before the mirror, a vision of nerves and determination, reapplying lip gloss and ensuring every curl in her updo was perfectly in place. This moment meant everything to her; it was the gateway to a realm where fashion and wrestling collided, and she was determined to not just look the part but to secure the role she coveted.

Freshly graduated from Spelman at the tender age of 18, with a degree in political science, Soleil had defied her parents' expectations by choosing passion over convention. Instead of following in her father's footsteps as a lawyer, she set her sights on the unpredictable world of fashion. It was a decision met with disappointment, but nothing could quell her burning love for design.

Growing up, Soleil's entire world revolved around one passion – fashion. It wasn't just a hobby; it was an obsession, the very essence of her being. For anyone who knew Soleil, conversations with her were an unending stream of fashion anecdotes, thoughts, and sheer excitement. Fashion was not just a career choice; it was her calling, the rhythm that dictated the beats of her heart. When her godfather, the illustrious Vince McMahon, reached out to her father, practically begging for her to intern as the WWF costume designer, she knew this was the moment she had been waiting for. It wasn't just an internship; it was an invitation to step into a world where her heart truly belonged. The conflict of not following in her father's footsteps was overridden by the certainty that this opportunity was her gateway to a lifetime of fulfilling her deepest passion.

Seated behind the wheel of her vibrant 1999 Volkswagen New Beetle, Soleil embraced the nostalgia that came with the quirky charm of her beloved car. Meanwhile, the rumble of a sleek Black Mustang echoed through the air as her older sister, Solar, maneuvered into the driveway of their parents' house. The contrast between the colorful Bug and the powerful Mustang seemed to encapsulate the essence of the sisters' personalities.

A warm smile adorned Soleil's face as Solar parked, the nickname "Sunny" cutting through the air with an endearing familiarity that had spanned their shared history. The bond between the two sisters, forged in the fires of youthful adventures, was evident in the camaraderie that resonated in their interactions.

"Where are you off to, Sunny?" Solar inquired, her tone laced with a teasing affection that mirrored the countless memories encapsulated in that nickname. Soleil, undeterred by the nerves that fluttered within, met her sister's gaze with determination.

"I'm heading to the intern thing Uncle Vinnie set up for me, remember?" Soleil's response carried not just the weight of her present endeavor but also a silent affirmation of her journey, marked by individual choices and a pursuit of passion that set her apart.

Her sister's nod was accompanied by a chuckle that resonated with the disbelief of an inside joke. "I still don’t understand how dad is trusting you to be around all those sweaty men, you’re literally still a baby."

Soleil's eyebrows knitted together in a perplexed frown, a silent protest against the notion of being perceived as an infant. The label of "baby" grated against the very fabric of her accomplishments. Graduating high school at the tender age of 14 and subsequently completing college at 18 were milestones that painted a canvas of maturity far beyond her years.

"A baby?" The word hung in the air, a challenge to the perception that failed to align with the reality of her responsibilities. It offended her sensibilities, prompting a mental inventory of the independent life she had meticulously built. An apartment to call her own, keys to a car she paid for, and the financial reins of her existence firmly held in her capable hands — these were not the trappings of infancy.

"I mean, for goodness sake," she mused with a touch of exasperation, "I graduated high school at 14, college at 18. I've got my own apartment, my own car, handling rent and car payments without a parental safety net. Would a baby do that?" The rhetorical question lingered, challenging the stereotype and demanding recognition for the woman she had become.

"Need I remind you Lala—" Soleil's attempt to assert herself was swiftly intercepted by her sister's preemptive strike. "Yeah, yeah, I own my own car, my own apartment, I graduated at 14 as Valedictorian." Solar's tone dripped with playful mockery, a teasing dance around the achievements that Soleil held dear.

"All I know," Solar continued, her words carrying a mixture of sisterly concern and a hint of theatrics, "is that if one of those nasty, smelly men touches you, I’m going to have to come down there myself and kick some ass. Anyways, have fun Sunny, you’re going to kill this, and tell Uncle Vinnie I said hey." The proclamation was delivered with an air of protective bravado, a sisterly oath woven with genuine care and a touch of theatrical flair.

Soleil blew a playful kiss in her sister's direction before hitting the gas and driving off. As she navigated towards the arena where she was about to meet Uncle Vinnie, nervous jitters danced in her stomach. This was uncharted territory, leagues away from the familiar realm of fashion runways and glamorous designs. Sweaty men in briefs and tights were a far cry from the world she knew, yet she steeled herself with the realization that this was no time to complain.

Paris Fashion Week might be a distant dream at the moment, but the WWF stood as a formidable stage in its own right. The enormity of the opportunity settled on her shoulders, a weight both thrilling and daunting. Soleil expertly maneuvered her 1999 Volkswagen New Beetle into the first available parking spot, excitement and trepidation intertwining.

Stepping out, she grabbed her sketch pad and drawing tools, the echo of her boots clacking against the ground adding to the drumroll of her anticipation. Approaching the front desk, she observed a blonde-haired lady engrossed in a phone call. With a polite gesture, she mouthed to Soleil mouthed for her to wait a moment.

The blonde lady, named Mariah, concluded her call and turned her attention to Soleil. "Oh my God, don’t you look absolutely fabulous. Is there any way I can help you, sweetie?" Mariah's enthusiasm was infectious, momentarily easing Soleil's nerves. The backstage world of the WWF awaited, and with a grateful smile, Soleil embarked on this unexpected chapter of her journey.

"Thank you so much! I'm Soleil Margaux, and I'm here for the Costume Designer Internship," she declared with a bright smile.

"Oh!" Mariah's exclamation held a note of excitement. "Nice to finally put a name to the face. Your Uncle Vinnie raves about you all the time. I'm Mariah, by the way, and I'll buzz you in right now. Just walk to that door on my right."

Soleil's gratitude spilled out. "Thank you so much, Mariah!" As she stepped through the door, a rush of emotions flooded her. At just 18, the prospect of becoming a full-time costume designer for wrestling luminaries was both a blessing and a confirmation of her capabilities. Another accomplishment to add to the list of things that proved she wasn't just a baby.

Inside, her uncle Vince engaged in conversation with a backstage team member, marked by the distinctive headset. Determination sparkled in Soleil's eyes as she crossed the room, finally tapping Vince on the shoulder. He spun around, greeted by Soleil's enthusiastic wave. "Hi Uncle Vinnie!"

��Oh my goodness! Look at my little soul angel!” Vince exclaimed as he enveloped Soleil in a tight hug. "You've grown into such a remarkable young lady. I'm thrilled to have you here!"

Soleil beamed with pride, grateful for her godfather's warm welcome. "Thank you, Uncle Vinnie. I'm so excited to be here and learn from the best," she said.

Vince turned to the person he was speaking with before and introduced Soleil. "This is my talented niece, Soleil Margaux. She's going to be interning as our costume designer."

The person extended a hand, "Nice to meet you, Soleil. I'm Mark, part of the backstage crew. We're looking forward to having your creative touch around here."

Soleil shook Mark's hand, feeling a surge of confidence. As her godfather guided her through the backstage area, she couldn't help but marvel at the bustling energy and larger-than-life personalities.

Her uncle led her to a private meeting room so they could discuss further what she would be doing. "Soleil, my dear, I've got something special for you today," Vince exclaimed. Soleil's curiosity piqued, and her heart raced with anticipation.

Vince leaned in with a twinkle in his eye. "I've been thinking, and I believe it's time for you to take on a significant project. How would you feel about designing a new look for a tag team that has enormous potential? They're known as the Hardy Boyz."

Soleil's response lacked the enthusiasm her uncle anticipated. She hesitated for a moment before replying, "Well, Uncle Vinnie, I appreciate the opportunity, but I'm not sure how much impact my designs can have for a team that's, you know, not exactly in the spotlight."

Vince chuckled at her candidness. "Soleil, my dear, sometimes it's the unknown gems that shine the brightest. The Hardy Boyz might be under the radar now, but I have a feeling they're on the cusp of something big. Your designs could be the spark that ignites their rise."

Soleil nodded, still uncertain but willing to trust her uncle's instincts. "I'll do my best, Uncle Vinnie. Just let me know what they're looking for, and I'll see what I can come up with."

As the day progressed, Soleil reluctantly delved into the world of the Hardy Boyz. She studied their matches, observed their interactions, and tried to grasp the essence of their characters. Despite her initial reservations, she found a sense of determination to create something unique for them.

After the grand reveal of the Hardy Boyz in Soleil's designed costumes, the initial interaction between Soleil and the tag team was far from seamless. Vince, always the optimist, introduced Soleil to Matt and Jeff with enthusiasm, hoping for a harmonious collaboration.

"Soleil, meet Matt and Jeff Hardy – the brilliant minds behind the Hardy Boyz. I'm sure you'll all make magic together," Vince announced, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Matt and Jeff exchanged glances, giving Soleil a once-over that felt more critical than appreciative. The Hardy Boyz, known for their rebellious and individualistic personas, seemed uncertain about welcoming a fashion-focused outsider into their creative process.

"Hey there, Soleil," Matt greeted with a forced smile, extending a hand for a polite shake.

Soleil reciprocated with a genuine smile, but the atmosphere remained tense. "I'm excited to be working with you both. I really tried to capture the essence of your personas in the designs."

Jeff, known for his eccentricity, eyed Soleil's polished appearance with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, well, we're not exactly fashionistas. We're wrestlers. What do you know about what we need?"

Soleil, caught off guard, took a moment before responding, "I understand that you're wrestlers, and my goal is to enhance your on-stage presence. The right costumes can elevate your characters and make a lasting impression on the audience."

The Hardy Boyz exchanged skeptical glances. "Look, we've been doing this for a long time. We know what works for us," Matt asserted, his tone carrying a hint of resistance.

Soleil, feeling a bit cornered, nodded diplomatically. "Of course, I respect your experience. Let's find a middle ground where my designs complement your vision for the Hardy Boyz."

Despite her efforts to remain composed, a subtle sting of hurt lingered beneath her exterior. Insulted by the skepticism thrown her way, she couldn't help but feel a surge of determination. How dare these relative unknowns question her talent and demean her work? She made up her mind – she would make them swallow their doubts and regret ever underestimating her. They were about to witness the undeniable prowess of Soleil Margaux.

As Soleil faced the skepticism and resistance from the Hardy Boyz, she decided to respond with a hint of sarcasm and a touch of biting humor.

When Matt Hardy questioned her knowledge, she shot back with a sly grin, "Well, Matt, it's a good thing I've been studying fashion instead of the 'Wrestling for Dummies' manual. I might not know a powerbomb from a power suit, but I know how to make an impact."

Jeff's skeptical glance at her polished appearance prompted Soleil to retort, "Don't worry, Jeff, I left my wrestling singlet at home. I figured it wouldn't match the runway look we're going for. Fashion-forward, right?"

Jeff’s POV

“Who does this girl think she is?” Jeff exclaimed out loud as he watched Soleil saunter away back towards the meeting room. He couldn't deny her sharp wit and the audacity with which she challenged their wrestling-centric perspectives. Jeff exchanged a glance with Matt, both silently questioning the newcomer's place in their world.

He couldn’t help but feel a mixture of irritation and curiosity. "Fashionista meets wrestling – never thought I'd see the day," he mused internally. As the gears of frustration turned within him, he declared aloud, “You know something, I’m going to give Vince a piece of my mind and tell him that her being our costume designer is not going to work out.”

“Are you crazy?” Matt exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. “That is Vince’s niece. We’re almost getting our big break, and I refuse to have you mess that up by saying something to him about her.”

Jeff shook his head, a scowl forming as he absorbed his brother's caution. “Where have your balls gone, man? You’re selling out for some random disrespectful chick just because she’s his niece?”

Matt scoffed, dismissing his younger brother's concern, and walked off, leaving the tension lingering in the air. The clash of priorities within the Hardy Boyz set the stage for an intriguing dynamic that could either make or break the collaboration with the unorthodox fashionista.

The clash of worlds in the WWF was nothing new, but Soleil brought a level of unexpected disruption. The idea of a fashion-forward designer infiltrating their wrestling domain was hard to swallow.

As Jeff contemplated his next move, he couldn't shake the feeling that this collision of worlds might lead to something either spectacular or disastrous. Wrestling was all about unpredictability, and with Soleil in the mix, the arena had become an uncharted territory where fashion and wrestling collided. The question lingered in Jeff's mind: Could this clash birth something entirely new and innovative, or would it crumble under the weight of two worlds trying to coexist? Only time would tell as the backstage drama unfolded in the world of WWF.

Soleil’s Updo and Outfit:

#jeff hardy x reader #black!reader #jeff hardy #jeff hardy x black!reader #wwe

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

And now I’ve watched episode 3 of Walker because of reasons. (You guys asked, that’s reasons.) #1

My review of episode 1 got a lot of positive feedback and a lot of you asked me to cover more episodes! But my review of episode 2 didn’t get much feedback at all. Possibly because episode 2 was boring and you can only make so many funny jokes about the glowy wife before it gets stale, so I get it, it’s fine. It was boring for me too. Hopefully this gets funnier! I actually have high expectations for this episode, since apparently it introduces NotDean. You know, the childhood friend who Walker loves like a brother and is the Han Solo to Walker’s Luke Skywalker. Like, what. Stop comparing Jared Padalecki characters to Like Skywalker 2021 challenge. *insert you keep using that word...*

Anyway, in case you missed it - here are all my reviews of Walker episodes, in chronological order.

EDIT: *screeching* GUYS YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS. YOU CANNOT IMAGINE WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS. Read to the end, don’t stop at the padalacting. I’m begging you asdfghjkl

Alright. Let’s start this. Actually I have a thought before we start. You know, I was thinking that episode 3 of Supernatural is when Dean gets genuinely introduced as a person. Sera Gamble and Raelle Tucker were the first to give Dean the personality that stuck and developed into the character that we love. Dead In The Water is, not coincidetally, the episode that sold Supernatural to me. The first couple of episodes were weirdly compelling, without which I wouldn’t have continued watching, but you must understand that I’d never watched horror before. It really wasn’t my genre. I was just watching on the assumption that it would get better at some point, and if it didn’t I’d stop. But Dead In The Water got me. Because that’s when we’re really shown Dean for the first time. The rest is history and now we’re here.

So I wonder what will happen in episode 3 of Walker. Is it going to magically pull a Dean out of the hat and get me?

Let’s start. The Texan countryside. The yellow, glowy light tells us this is a flashback. Closeups of Jared and Gen. He is somewhat concerned. He’s at the wheel of a car, still on the street - a red Mustang. Unlike the red Mustang of the horseman War, it is a convertible. Fun fact: a Mustang was Kripke’s original idea for the Winchesters’ car, but then switched to the Impala for body-in-the-trunk reasons. I am the 😬 emoji.

Actually guys I need to show you a couple Jared faces. I think they’re supposed to be purposely comedic faces, but honestly this is just how he acts normally. I promise I am not coming in this with a bias towards Jared’s acting. I just observe, with my eyes. He was actually good in many Supernatural episodes.

I just can’t see Cordell Walker. I’m just seeing Jared and Gen Padalecki delivering what is a somewhat padalecki acting in front of my eyes and I swear I had to close the video in the middle of this scene and start over because of a sudden attack of second-hand embarrassment.

Let’s continue

Basically, Walker is trying to drive the Mustang, but he is not good at it and the car stops after two meters. He feels exactly how I feel when I watch Walker.

“Damn it!” Jared exclaims, jaredly. I think that this scene is supposed to be set Many Years Ago, because Walker is wearing a backwards cap and Emily has her hair styled like Bad Janet but straighter, which actually says a lot about this show somehow.

God, I wish I could gif the entire scene to show you guys the padalacting. I mean, I could, but ain’t nobody got time for that. Have a bit of the scene.

For some reason she puts this thing on the dashboard, because he “puts your mind at ease”.

He makes more Jared faces, which we’ll skip because I don’t want to spend 7 hours on this.

Wait look at this shot of the car (with some bonus Jared face).

Why does this look filmed by your dad with a videocamera on Christmas afternoon after you received a toy car as a present? I suddenly have a newfound admiration for the directors who did Impala shots on Supernatural because it would seem car shots are not that easy to make. Maybe this is why Supernatural always filmed at night with a black car.

Guys I am telling you, if you need to watch one scene of Walker in your life, watch this scene. It’s so embarrassing. I almost decided to gif the moment of the car going and commenting “nyoom” but the Impala does not deserve this.

Anyway.

Listen, if I have to see thing thing over and over, you have to see it too.

He’s brought the damn thing onto a new cop truck while on a stakeout with Ramirez, who is just as happy about it as any normal person would.

I think they’re outside a strip club, judging from the posters outside.

He keeps quoting lines from the scene with his wife, which is sort of weird since Ramirez is not his love interest. Yet. Oh no. Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t even thinking of doing that. Ramirez has a perfectly fine boyfriend.

Walker says that since they’re sitting there just waiting for the suspect’s movements or whatever, they should use that time to get to know each other, like “favorite movies, the teams you root for, middle names”.

Ramirez is me.

He’s like ~let’s bond~ and Ramirez goes immediately for the jugular and asks how Stella (his daughter) is doing. “Wow” he says. He says he and Stella are “in a good place, I think”. You’re not and we’re definitely not. This is the bad place.

Basically, they’re trying to live in a bubble of ignoring her upcoming court date for the marijuana thing. Ramirez says that the easy route is not a good idea. He’s like, are you speaking from experience? Basically they keep implying Ramirez also has a ~bad girl past, which I can absolutely live without.

Aaand now we see the inside of the strip club. The suspect is there, a lady with a Latinoamerican name, apparently bisexual because she’s surrounded by a woman and a man in underwear, the woman is touching her, it leaves no doubt about it. 😬 Enter the stripper on stage, who captures the lady’s attention.

The stripper is a man. Dressed as a slutty cowboy. There’s glitter.

Yeah, you read it right.

Oh no. No I absolutely change my mind. If you have to watch one scene of Walter, it must be the slutty glitter cowboy stripper.

There’s. There’s a. There’s a slutty glitter cowboy stripper.

The CW could do slutty glitter cowboy strippers and Dean Winchester is not there?!

I repeat, they killed Dean Winchester and then did slutty glitter cowboy strippers in Walker?!

This is a travesty. This is an outrage.

Crime. Pure crime.

Listen, I’m not optimizing these gifs, take these super quick gifs, I can’t possibly spend my night optimizing glitter cowboy stripper gifs. But you need to see.

What’s the target demographic of this show? Texan housewives? The gays? Are they trying to test all the waters and see what happens? Is Walker going to become about gay people and Jared’s character a secondary character in his own show?

Wait

*sweats* Are they really trying to replicate Supernatural in everything after all?

The bisexual lighting is there and all.

The guy in skimpy underwear is distracting. I can’t believe yesterday I saw a Jared interview where he said he couldn’t watch Supernatural with his kids because of all the violence but Walker is a show you can watch with kids. I mean, aside from this scene, Walker is definitely more kid-friendly than Supernatural for obvious reasons. But hey, since Supernatural already was non-kid-friendly, they could have at least put more dudes in skimpy underwear.

You know what, I think they’re just aiming for Texan housewives.

“You’re hotter than Austin asphalt” suspect lady tells the stripper. You know. Something normal people say.

(If Texan people actually speak like this, do NOT tell me.)

Guys, we’re only four minutes in. It’s midnight. I will continue tomorrow...

*screams into the void* These have been the four wildest minutes of my life.

#marghe watches walker for some darned reason #cw's jared: legit texan

[angelharness]

ns/fw tag is junkbox, blacklist that tag if needed

somehow this evolved into. frank getting railed. was just thinking about how there’s virtually no sub frank content and then this happened. gender neutral reader, could be interpreted as a strap-on or otherwise. 

WARNINGS: smoking, brief descriptions of blood

FRANK MORRISON / THE LEGION

When Frank picks you up for your typical Friday routine, he’s tense. More so than usual, enough that you can notice it, despite being so acquainted with his usual taut air. You’ve just come from dinner with Susie and Julie at the only karaoke bar in the area, still a ways from Ormond, cheeks bitten by the cold and the crescents of ice caught on your lashes.  

Stuffed on crisp fries and more than one refill of Shirley Temples, you’re a little groggy and just want to get to his house to pass out in bed, but through your coma-esque fogginess you see Frank’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel. His eyes are almost unfocused, and you feel his dad’s old Ford Mustang begin to veer slightly as he begins down the route to his place.

You’re staring at the highway in front of you, but as the car inches over the dotted white line of the road and reaches well into the next lane over, you grab for Frank; a bad idea, he snaps to reality with a jerk in his shoulders, and the wheels screech and whine when he tears the steering wheel suddenly to the side. You gasp for a moment.

Frank swallows, readjusts his grip, and redraws into the proper lane. You look over at him, worried, and though he glances back fleetingly, his focus still resides elsewhere. 

“Frank, do we need to pull over?” you suggest, somewhat meekly. Frank was never a good driver, liable to concerning cases of road rage, but it’s out of character for him to be so out of focus. As you expected, he takes offense to your comment, as well meaning as it was intended.

“Fuck, I’m fine, okay? Can you just—” His grip tightens further, you can hear the stiff creak of the worn leather furrowing intensely between his fingers.

He twitches when you reach a hand to rub his shoulders. As you graze down his side with a gradually increasing pressure, he jolts beneath his heavy denim jacket. He careens inward, retreating from your touch, but in the moments after, falls back into the space between you two. 

You rub his hip comfortingly; Frank begins to loosen up, though his hands remain rigid, defined by furrowed veins across his straining knuckles. Your hand rests on his thigh, where you rub gentle circles. He tightens up again once more, then finally relaxes, and though there is no audible indication you can feel an exhale of relief as his limbs unstrain. 

He slouches back into the driver’s seat chair, but you still see him spare you glances, less frantic but still with meaning.

It’s been a period of fluctuating silence now. Only taking his eyes off the road to struggle open the center console, retrieving a suspiciously brown box of his favorite Classic Filter Kings cigarettes, he rummages further for his lighter but resigns his attempts, the unlit cigar fixed between his fingers as he returns to the wheel.

“What’s wrong, Frankie?” you push. Your hand moves inward on his thigh. You can’t tell if it’s a gasp, but his mouth snaps open then shuts just as quickly, eyelids fluttering in fluster. 

“Can we talk about it when we get back to my place?” he replies. His voice comes out smaller. 

When you pull up in front of his foster parents house, the sprawling display of Christmas lights across neighbor’s lawns projects in smears of color down the windows of the Ford Mustang. His house is dark, an unfitting, unwelcoming silhouette between the neighborhood's jolly spectacles. Its windows stare back like dark, unfeeling eyes.

Frank draws into the empty driveway. His parents are always out at night, though you never borrowed to ask, thankful for its convenience. He alluded to them being out of town this weekend, though. 

As Frank is now newly-nineteen, they don’t especially care much for whatever pursuits he undergoes in the privacy of his room, as long as that means he isn’t out late and getting into trouble with the law (which still makes up all of his time otherwise). You’d barely talked to them at all, actually—when Frank first brought you home, of course with the intention of sex, they hadn’t said anything at all, despite his foster mom spotting you as he rushed you up the stairs to his room. 

He practically kicked you out afterward, just in time for dinner, which you guess had saved you from any uncomfortable introductions. You would rather not spend an awkward evening at the dinner table, shifting under the judgemental, wordless glares of his parents. 

The car doors slam and the two of you trudge up the driveway to the door. Despite his parents' evident indifference, he’d always insist on entering from the back door closest to the stairs when they were home to ensure as minimal confrontation as possible. It’s in their absence that he hurries inside, eagerly pulling you along, breath heavier in cold plumes of crisp winter air. 

The door shuts, he flips on the living room lights, a sad Christmas tree blinking to life wearily in the corner by the front window. 

“The usual?” you start with a slight smile. Sex was never routine, actually, but you can tell when he needs to destress. Your relationship, never technically made official but by all other means definite, started with a teen-aged, carnal fiercoity. These escapades mellowed out and became sparser in your months together, now your time is spent in a more intimate, personal affection. To an outsider (such as Joey), they might think that that flame has lessened, but in fact you prefer the genuine romance that has developed in sex’s absence. 

He’s rolling the cigarette anxiously between his fingers, gaze fixed elsewhere. 

Frank is not shy. He feels so rawly and with a strengthness that wards off those who have not developed the acquired taste of his intensity. 

Here, though, in the doorway of his house, breathing deep first, then shallow, he is small. 

“In the car,” Frank mutters. His brows lower, frustration forming between his eyes. It’s an incomplete sentence but said with finality. He wants you to figure it out.

In the car.

You step forward and slide your hand down his arm. 

“Frankie?” you say, and while it is said with understanding it comes out teasing. He parts his lips. He grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a vigorous kiss. Parting for desperate breaths but still so fervent. It’s not the intensity you are familiar with. It is, in some aspect, resigned, from a place of surrender. He’s warm, despite the December night you’ve entered from. 

You’re starting up the stairs even as his hands clench at the fabric of your shirt. There’s the cold slide of zippers as you shed your jackets and stumble into his room. Blind, preoccupied with heavy kisses, he swats at the doorway to his room, finding the end of his door and slamming it shut after you. 

The lights come on next. His room is as messy as usual; what clothes he couldn’t manage to cram into his drawers he’s instead kicked under the bed. It smells of old weed, never a smell you would get used to. His collection of army and pocket knives remain perhaps the most organized aspect of his room, mounted on his bedroom wall in a thick frame. Torn magazine pages are plastered about on the wall; various models in bikinis, and though a joke (he claims), it’s still the subject of teasing from Julie. 

Frank tugs you along, falling back into his bed, guiding you to straddle him. His face is so red. He looks away, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Please,” he manages.

It’s the first time you’ve heard that from him, in any context. It’s so bizarre you nearly laugh, but this is also just so rare of an experience you don’t want to risk embarrassing him, in which case surely this occurrence would never present itself again. 

He’d always been the one in control. Perhaps steered by his own collecting frustration, he fucks roughly and uncaringly. That is not to say he’s ever hurt you, but he’s never entirely there in the moment. He’s there for the feeling, but his mind is so many places at once you’ve never felt so alone in an inherently mutual act. His intensity carries over into his hands and touches, strokes which barely pass as such. Bruises and scratches are expected, though they heal fine enough on their own. Biting, too, wherever on your neck he can sink his teeth into it while fucking you. 

Your hands must be cold, or he’s just nervous (both, you decide), as the muscles in his chest twitch when you run your fingers firmly down his bare chest. There are plenty of scars, varying in color, in recency. Old, faded scars juxtaposed by those more recent and a painful red. There are dark bruises up his forearms where he scratches subconsciously when anxious. You kiss up the bruises there, caring, sweet, but intensifying when you rise to meet his lips.    

Frank was never treated kindly. Beyond that, he never opened himself up to kindness; paranoid by a history ridden so distinctly with hurt and mistreatment from those expected to care for him. 

In your time with him you’ve slowly introduced intimacy. Genuine intimacy, loving kisses and compassionate touches. You like to think he’s calmed down over the years. You see that in your time alone, where he’s come to allow himself to relax and trust you, your intentions, your love for him, but you never see it otherwise. With others, he’s still Frank, still ambitious and self-destructive, careless perhaps in the desire for hurt, for what he thinks is punishment. You wonder how much of it is an act. He keeps it all hidden well behind unyielding eyes.

You run your fingers through his short hair, moving your kisses to his neck. Instinctively, his hands claw at your back, nails sinking in bare skin for security. If he’s so jumpy at just this, you’re not sure if he’d be able to handle much more.

“It’s okay,” you promise, murmuring into the crook of his neck. Somehow, it’s hot, even as snow gathers on the outside ledge of his bedroom window. Your skin is pricked with goosebumps but your neck burns up to your cheeks. 

He says your name, eyes squeezed shut, a shy request for more. The kisses on his neck escalate, and you graze your teeth on the sensitive flesh experimentally. He pulls you closer. More. You sink your teeth in. Dark blood beads around the marks, and when you retract you gently dab away the red. More bites, he yelps shortly but his breath becomes distinguished and desperate. He’s still pulling at you.

“Is this ok?” you pause to ask. He nods his head and moves impatiently beneath you. 

He usually is relatively silent when you do get around to fucking, and in the times when he’s not he rambles on and on, names, some degrading and others loving and some both. Teasing, too, the most relentless teasing.

Seeing him so oddly vulnerable, your hands clasping his wrists to the bedsheets, that almost drunk blush bright across his cheeks. It’s weird, so weird, but it feels incredible, too. 

Pants come off, his boxers you pull down. He’s making the faintest whining, but you can’t tell if it’s out of anticipation or anxiety. You check in again and he responds a little annoyed, urging you on with rising impatience. 

“Fucking christ, come on,” he finally spits, grinding pointlessly against nothing, and yet there’s immediate regret in his eyes when you grip his thigh in warning. His foggy eyes lurch to look down at the hand inching up his inner thigh. Frank is taken aback, but still you feel him move against you, pushing into your touch to ease the burning want even if slightly. You let him go.

He shoves the cigarette on his cluttered dresser, sitting up to stretch past his nightstand, but when he turns back to you you guide him to lay back down. He lays expectantly and swallows his nervousness. You take his cock in your hand. Another taut intake of air and dizzy mumbling. 

“Yeah,” he urges in response to your inaction.

You start at a steady pace but quicken soon enough to meet his impatience. Hearty strokes, he pushes into your touch, needy and hot, the whimpering now very much audible. He jerks his head back across his pillow and looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, a twitch to his lips. You stop to admire the piercings on the underside of his shaft. He snarls, you jerk him sharply and he shuts his mouth with a surprised sound. Faster now, his mumblings evolve into barely restrained moans. 

“Good boy,” you say encouragingly, “Such a good boy.” 

“Fuck. Fuck!” His hands slide from your back, marked with the red imprint of fingers, and instead he tangles the sheets tightly in his fists, twisting them. He’s panting.  

“Oh,” you muse. He groans shakily. “Do you like that? Being called ‘good boy’?”

He can only make a sound in reply. Possibly above admitting it, but when your strokes slow, he nods. You stroke faster.

Internally, you store this revelation in your head to tease him about later. Right now, you find yourself oddly warm at this nickname. 

Again, “Good boy, what a sweet boy.” 

He ruts into your palm and you see the glint of what might be tears stinging his eyes. He’s burning, so flushed, so needy. He relents and falls back into himself. It’s an entirely new intimacy to see him like this.

He releases with an audible shutter, chest heaving an extraordinary amount for such an act. You’ve jerked him off before without a fuss, though again in those moment’s he was still demonstrating complete control, usually with a hand knotted in your hair. Exploring that loss of control you just find so exciting, though. You’re incredibly turned on and possibly more embarrassed than he is. 

You both take a moment, his breathing evening out again. You cup his cheek and run a thumb along the frame of his face, rough with scars and bruises. You kiss the light scar that runs through his lip, humming sweetly. He exhales hotly, eyes heavy and half-lidded, murky with lust.

“Fuck me,” he says suddenly. You think for a moment he’s regained his signature brashness, maybe previously lost to emotional exhaustion—no, though. He grinds against your thigh, searching so urgently for relief. You like withholding it, like watching him squirm and sputter for words, to flounder in this new sensation, flustered and aching but also groggy in his own befuddlement. But lost to an overwhelming yearning, he severs contact with the shame he’s constructed to keep him from intimacy and vulnerability, concepts still very new and scary. 

Funny how new emotions manage to be Frank’s greatest, most incapacitating fear; you’d more readily believe he would kill a man before he would ever let himself be emotionally vulnerable. 

“How do you want me to?” you ask. You are incredibly nervous but manage to function with the rush of acute longing thrumming sweetly in your veins. 

“I—I dunno,” he mumbles hotly to the side. The unpatterned fabric of his bed sheets furrows in his clenched fingers. He glares needles at the wall, far too embarrassed to look at you as you move above him.

“What if you just relax and I’ll take control this time?” you offer, dropping the teasing note in your voice. You gently rub his shoulders, unwinding the muscle there, coaxing him into relief, the unclenching of self where he had not realized he had been tensed. He releases a breath, closing his eyes, and says with it, “yeah.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you remind him. He stares at you almost timidly, eyes angled through his blond eyelashes.

Shifting to a fitting angle, you lean in to kiss along his jawline, then taking his face in your hands, kissing up the bridge of his nose, at his chin, at his cheek, at his lips once more. 

He makes a sound beneath you. 

“Mmph.” Though short and exhaled almost bluntly, it’s content. A moan comes after but he silences it, drawing in his bottom lip, squeezing his eyes closed again.

Properly pushing into him, rocking up against him. He squirms briefly and resituates himself before unclenching again and following your slowly building thrusts.

He brings an arm up over himself, to shield the bedroom lights or to avert the further embarrassment of seeing you stare. Frank tucks his face into the junction in his elbow. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle.”

He manages a glance your way. It’s not a dare, not said to badger you or push buttons he knows all too well.

You sink in further and watch his chest hitch, testing broader thrusts. When his breathing normalizes, you push the remaining width deeper, now comfortably situated snug in his hips. You let the both of you adjust, then return thrusting with newly-realized confidence. Moaning, his fingers seize the sheets again and twist them. 

Mumbling incoherently as you fuck into him, he shakes, jerking. You lose yourself in the feeling, tight pleasure in your belly. He encourages you even as his face burns red ear to ear. 

“More,” he asks, and more you give him. It’s almost too much. Like winding up a chain with a crank, the ecstasy tightening his core wrenches him suddenly into undoing; pleasure, striking and raw, racking his body in release. 

If he could have been any redder his face might have well been solid crimson, already stained with pink and a few stray tears. You catch your breath with him, staring at him, beautiful and unraveled. 

You lay down beside him and somewhat hesitantly ask, “Did I do ok?”

“Yeah,” he says with the mildest smile. He still glances away, scrambling to recover his composure before looking at you again. 

Frank cleans up and retrieves a new set of boxers and his discarded pants. From his nightstand he withdraws another pack of cigarettes, this one nearly empty. You give him a look when he reaches for his blocklike lighter, cups his hand carefully around it, and lights the cigarette, taking a long drag. He returns to your side, laying next to you and shifting to allow you to rest your head on his chest.

“Your room’s a fire hazard, Frankie,” you joke. He pinches the cigarette between his fingers, exhaling a gray-white ribbon of smoke. 

He stares at the undecorated bedroom wall across from the bed, the only wall in his room not graffitied in some manner. He seems to contemplate speaking, turning the words over in his mouth with his tongue. 

“It—it felt good,” he admits, and the dark flush reappears at his ears and cheeks.

“Oh?” You scoot closer. “You looked really cute,” you tease, “I wish I could’ve taken a picture.”

You throw an obvious glance over at the clunky camera that he tossed uncaringly onto his desk. It looks virtually unused, but now certain thoughts start a smile across your face.

He shoves you but is smiling. He presses the cigarette into the ashtray behind his bed-side lamp, the smoke eaten suddenly away.

You take the moment to kiss up his neck again. Squirming, he bites back a laugh. You cradle his face with a loving hand, guiding him to look back at you. 

“I love you, Frank,” you remark, suddenly serious. Frank, for a second, looks worried, but is reassured by more kisses on his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” he replies—returning the gesture in his own manner. His lips meet yours, though a moment later you part and laugh, nose wrinkled. "What?” he shoots back, seeming confused. You only shake your head. Smoke just really isn’t a palatable taste. 

Eventually, you pull away and maneuver over him on the bed to stand, snagging your own clothes.

“You leaving?” he asks, and it might be disappointment. You shake your head as you ball up your shirt and pants. “No,” you reply. You push your hair from your face; “I need to wash up.”

“Unless, ah, you want me to leave,” you say, too nervous to turn around and look at him. You were completely prepared for him to kick you out after the fact, an expected conclusion but never one you looked forward to.

There’s no response, despite the shuffling of sheets, then he speaks.

“You can stay if you want to.”

It would sound displeased to anyone else, but you, fluent in his terminology, know it’s a genuine invitation. 

“Can I take a shower first?” you ask with a well-meaning laugh. “Yeah, that would be nice,” he replies. You doubt he meant it, but it came out as an insult, and you cackle back at him. Confused at first, he realizes, opening his mouth to clarify, but you’re the one to speak first.

“So that’s what you think of me, got it,” you joke further. He grabs a pillow out from under him and launches it your way. You retreat from it and take cover in the hallway, still giggling to yourself, and almost prance to the upstairs bathroom.

You look away from your own reflection in the mirror, flustered again, suddenly, by the image of him beneath you still recent in your thoughts. 

God.

#junkbox #frank x reader #frank morrison x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd frank #dbd legion #legion x reader #reader insert #x reader #horror x reader #slasher #slashers #dbd imagine #harpy writes

[the-dumb-gaysian-demigod]

does percabeth ever just really fuck with your head

in that sense where everytime i see a couple that includes a girl with blonde hair and a guy with black hair my IMMEDIATE thought is 'wow, percabeth' like NO JOKE i can't help it like starting with the first one i’ll present: - niamh adkins and joe ando-hirsh from tiktok like they're literally so gorgeous and cute together and i'm not sorry but i've always seen perce as a poc, perhaps biracial with those slight "mediterranean" features, so joe COULD FIT!!!! I CAN SEE IT I CAN SEE IT -  ok next we have tris and four, and ok tris is smart, funny, brave bitch and four just need a big hug and is a huge softie underneath all that hunk and lunk of muscles and i know, percy's not like four, but it's just I CANT HELP BUT COMPARE AND TRY TO CONNECT - RIZA HAWKEYE AND ROY MUSTANG THESE TWO!!!! the roles don't really fit with percabeth but i love the idea that they just have such a connection with each other that started when they were kids... and of course, riza is a BADASS BITCH AND SO IS ANNABETH AND PERCY LITERALLY HAS UNPARRELLED POWER AS A HUMAN AS DOES ROY BUT THEY LITERALLY ARE TORN APART BY AND SO DONE WITH WAR AND JUST WANT TO HELP OTHERS OK I CANT THINK OF ANYMORE AT THE MOMENT BUT I HAVE TO MENTION HOW THEN THERE'RE my RUSSIAN NEIGHBORS who have TWO KIDS— and i'm gay and not sorry but the wife is such a MILF— i mean she looks like a model and the husband has enormous dad vibes I CAN'T HELP BUT KEEP THINKING THIS WOULD BE WHAT PERCABETH AS PARENTS WOULD BE LIKE AHSHSHH I NOT OKAY

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #niamh adkins #joe ando #tris #four #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #TiKToK #divergent #fma #fmab #royai #i'm not ok #stop it i'm already gay #god #annabeth is so hot #riza can run me over with a car #and i will still worship the ground she walks upon #ok ngl i don't really like tris but still she brave #i'm #so #fucking #gay #!!!

[papipopsicle]

HANDMADE HEAVEN PART ONE

Pairing: Steve Harrington X Hargrove!Reader

Summary: In which the new Queen of Hawkins High finds herself falling for the fallen king.

Song: Easier by 5 Seconds of Summer

Warnings: swearing, asshole parental figures

Words: 1.7K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

The house itself was fine, not pretty and polished like the one she grew up in, but at the very least she was grateful not to be sleeping in another motel bed filled with broken springs and anonymous stains. Susan greeted her like a good little home maker, tightly waved hair bouncing against her shoulders as she walked down the steps of the porch.

"How was it, sweetie?" The ginger woman waited with pursed lips while her step daughter stood from the vehicle. She really hated that car, it stood out like a sore thumb next to her husband's silver SUV, especially when her brothers parked alongside the two.

"Not the worst." Y/N shrugged. She missed the silent solace already, "Has Max decided which room she wants?"

Susan nodded, leading the blonde into their new home, "She's at the back opposite your father and I. William hasn't arrived yet so you have the choice of the one next to hers or ours."

Without hesitation she chose the one next to Max's. Her father helped unload her heavier furniture from the U-Haul currently fixed to the back of her red muscle car. The room was in the shape on an 'L', mirroring her step sister's. Her small double bed only just managed to fit in the crook, creating a cosy space to drift away in.

Hours of rearranging the room passed before a navy blue Camaro could be heard pulling up onto the curb and a muggy sunset made itself present in her bedroom window. Emptying out her socks into the small drawer of her dresser, Y/N dropped the empty black bin liner behind her and rushed to greet her brother.

"Billy!" She squealed, attacking him with a hug. The two would roughhouse and swear at each other like drunken sailors, but their love for each other would always be the first thing anyone noticed about the twins. He picked her up with ease and spun her around, quickly dropping her to the floor again.

Y/N's twin would sometimes forget the rude masculine persona he put on and actually behaved like himself, but it never lasted long with their father close by.

"See that hunk of crap didn't kill you on the way here then?" Billy joked as they both carried a bed frame into his new room. His distaste for the nineteen-sixty-eight Mustang Cobra was evident whenever it came up in conversation, only due to it being left to her rather than him in their mother's will.

"Not just yet." His sister hummed and the two let out a huff as they dropped the mattress onto the wooden frame. They talked about the bullshit of finishing their senior year at a completely different school and what that we're going to dress up as for Halloween. It was their favourite holiday and this year she planned on being Tom Cruise from Risky Business. Nobody would understand it but it was better than Billy's 'slutty teen boy' costume he wore most days anyway.

"Y/N/N honey, could you come into the lounge!" Susan's sugary tone rang through the house. The twins shared a look that always subconsciously found their faces when she attempted to play doting step mother.

Fucking doormat of a woman.

"Coming." The blonde shut her brothers door on the way out and walking down the hallway into the small living area. By now any remnants of the sun had long hidden away from Hawkins and only warm ceiling lights lit up her face.

Susan appeared from the kitchen door with a tray full of oatmeal cookies, grin etched into her features like puppet strings pulling at her cheeks, "Try one, would you?" She gleamed, pushing the metal tray out for emphasis, "I'd ask your father but he'd just say they were nice, never wants to upset me. He's too good."

Not wanting to answer, Y/N took a small crumbly cookie and bit into it, eyes bugging out at the statement only able to nod in response.

The step mother watched in anticipation, hair bouncing at her shoulders as usual, "So, gorgeous? Be honest with me, how are they?"

"Really good," She didn't like the woman, but couldn't deny her ability to copy a recipe, "I think these may even top the peanut butter ones."

Susan's sterile smile managed to stretch further and Y/N was scared her lips may crack and bleed from the force, "Perfect! We're handing them out to our new neighbours tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need you to get some new trainers for Maxine tomorrow, nothing expensive though, they're just for gym class. She's a four now.

The blonde resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead nodded while an idea popped into her head, "I drove past a giant superstore on my way here, I'm sure they're still open I can just go now."

"Are you sure, honey?" Susan sounded concerned, but Neil didn't share the same feelings, "Curfew is eleven until you start school on Monday, same rules apply here."

"I know, Dad." She nodded curtly and turned on her heel, not wasting a moment grabbing her brothers old khaki bomber jacket and her car keys. The front door shut just as quickly as it opened, leaving the small U Haul sitting on the driveway next to Billy's Camaro.

It had been her brother's favourite jacket since he was sixteen, but he'd gained so much muscle his arms couldn't slip into it anymore. Although Y/N was tall for the average girl, the material still managed to shroud her frame.

Y/N felt amazed after managing to get to the store fairly easily, she picked up some plain black pumps and paid for them with cash, pocketing the receipt to make sure Neil would reimburse her. That took less than fifteen minutes. There were still over two hours until she needed to be back at the house and she needed to make the most of any freedom from her father.

She was her mother's daughter and the opposite of Susan Mayfield-Hargrove; if someone showed themselves as a thorn and not the rose they seemed to be, they were a thorn. She could accept it and move on, which is difficult when they own the house she calls home. Her step mother was a fixer, finding wilted petals and taping them up against the thorn to appear more sightly. If Neil was the thorn, Y/N the rose, then Susan was a daisy in a field where she didn’t belong.

The younger Hargrove twin decided to explore her new home, driving around cul-de-sacs and roads which mirrored one another. After a while of aimless driving, Y/N parked up at the side of a quiet road, seeming to back onto a rich neighbourhood. She locked the muscle car, Ellie, and began walking on the edge of the road.

"Stay put, El." She whispered to herself, echoing her mother's voice. Meredith Hargrove always swore her car changed parking spaces whenever they went somewhere together.

Y/N couldn't imagine having so much space, no family was big enough to make use of it all. Her feet brought her into the small forest area, passing a few more eccentric gardens before finding one which intrigued her. The lights were all off, moonlight bouncing off the unmoving water in the centre of the garden.

Swimming had always been something the Hargrove girl not only loved but turned to in uncertainty. Billy would surf alongside her a long time ago, but he hadn't for years now. Her eyes danced around each room, unable to see any kind of life within the mansion. Against Y/N’s better judgement, she left the tall trees and let her toes edge onto someone's private property.

It seems a shame not to.

Fallen leaves stopped crunching under her brown boots as they found concrete slabs. The family must have employed a cleaner and gardener as nothing seemed out of place or dirty. The water was clear and not a single leaf or bug lay on its surface. Crouching down, her fingers drifted along the water, creating a small ripple, confirming her suspicions of how cold it would be.

She didn't care, stripping down into her underwear in the cool autumnal winds, anyone would've thought she was a crazy person. Y/N ignored the small ladder next to her and gracefully dived into the pool, swimming down to the bottom until she needed to come back up for air. The blonde lay on her back, staring up at the stars wondering what her friends were doing on the other side of America. Probably at Sadie's getting high.

Y/N wasn't sure how much time had passed, her fingertips were now wrinkled but it didn't bother her. She was in her element, so much so she didn't register when the kitchen light turned on and alerted the homeowner of someone in their pool.

Steve's body was overcome with terror as he did a double, triple take out of the kitchen window at the figure in his garden. He only wanted some leftover lasagne. Grabbing his nail punctured bat, the home alone teenager unlocked the back door, and against his own better judgement, creeped towards the intruder.

As he came closer, he was thankful to find a girl than a demogorgan, a girl he certainly didn't recognise. Her blonde hair lay on top of the water like a halo as she floated in her own world.

"Hello?" He questioned, bat still firmly in hand, "Why the fuck are you naked in my pool?"

Y/N left her mini trance, flailing in the water as her eyes found a teenage boy wielding an odd weapon, only a scream leaving her lips in response.

part two?

want to be tagged? just send in an ask!

#fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #hargrove x Harrington #Steve Harrington #Steve x reader #Steve imagine #Steve Harrington imagine #fluff #imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

[matildaofoz]

Memento Mori Pt 3. (Michael Langdon x Fem!Death!Reader)

You reached the courtyard of Kineros Robotics in record time, Michael hot at your heels.

“Can you walk a little slower?“ Michael complained, walking quickly beside you to keep up despite his long legs. You weren't lying when you had told him that you were on the clock.

„No can do, kiddo. Now come on, use those wonderful legs of yours,“ you threw at him over your shoulder, your hands searching for the car keys you had stashed in one of the conveniently hidden pockets of your dress without slowing down. Why weren't those a thing yet when humanity had invented every other type of useless thingamabob and yet pockets on a dress were blasphemous, you wondered. The intricacies of humankind often evaded you. The fingers of your right hand grazed the keys in your pocket and with a satisfied smirk you pulled them out.

“I'm not a kid, you know. I'm the Anti-,“ Michael began, irritated.

„The Antichrist, yes and you were born exactly when, 2012? You may not look it Michael, but in the grand scheme of things you're barely an amoeba,“ you interrupted him, not in the mood for any more temper tantrums. Without having to look back at his face, you felt the anger rolling off him in waves. He really was not used to being treated as anything less than the son of Satan. If he wanted you to lick his shoes, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, he should be on his knees before you, praising the universe for having sent you in his hour of need.

Continuing to ignore a seething Michael, your eyes zoned in on your newest toy. A 1965 Black Ford Mustang Convertible with bright red leather seats. Seeing as you were all things considered an ancient being and material things meant positively nothing to you, you did have two weaknesses. Fast food and fast cars. You liked to think that it was due to the human form you took, your immense power being pressed into the confines of a limited body and your patient nature being expressed in a rather paradoxical instant gratification. Thankfully, you couldn't gain any weight nor die in a car crash, remaining ever the same, and so you chose to indulge yourself at every given opportunity. Soon enough, those fleeting pleasures would come to an end. Might as well enjoy it while you could.

You skipped over the curb to the driver's side, admiring the way the inky paint coat glistened in the late afternoon sun, not a speck of dust in sight.

Michael came to stand by the passenger door, now more confused than angry. He was ever-changing, you mused.

“Did, did you sell your soul to my father too?” he asked, mustering the convertible before his eyes searched your face.

“No, Michael,” you chuckled amused. H really didn't know the first thing about the Apocalypse or his place in all of this. Maybe there would be time to give the boy a lesson, but not until you had had a good meal.  

“I think I'm out of your dad's league if we're being honest. I am more a collector of souls myself. Your father or God don't actually hold the monopoly even though that's what they like to tell everyone. Tell you what, over dinner you and I will take a little trip down memory lane,” you explained, watching him with intent.

“Liar,” Michael said lowly, processing your words. His icy blue eyes narrowed at you. You could feel his power trying to claw at you, yet it felt distinctly like a kitten lick.

“Oh please, Michael, I don't lie,” you retorted unaffected, your hand grabbing the door handle and sliding into the seat, grabbing the pair of sunglasses on the dashboard and putting them on before looking at Michael, your fingers drumming on the steering wheel. This was not going nearly as well as you had planned and if you wanted to keep the plan you had set in motion rolling, you would undoubtedly need to change course, despite the fact that you loathed having to do so. Death be damned, you thought.

“I don't like repeating myself, Michael. I don't owe you any answers but perhaps I'm growing soft and the fact that you are left to your own devices, trying to figure out the single most monumental task on this rock hurtling through space has me feeling a little...sympathetic,” you stated, leaning over to push open the passenger door as a sign of goodwill.

“Tell you what, you can ask me all the questions you like, deal?”

Michael contemplated for a few seconds. He didn't like to admit it but so far he hadn't been the one to come up with any good plans that didn't involve The Omen 3 plot and his father had been absent throughout his accent so far. He didn't trust you or anybody bar Ms. Mead and yet you presented an enigma to him, one he needed to crack open. He was brilliant at problem-solving and he would solve you too, he thought to himself, a little grin creeping into the corner of his mouth. His invisible claws retracted.

“Deal. But I get to ask as many as I want,” he replied, pulling the door open all the way and plopping himself into the passenger seat beside you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Fine, a deal's a deal,” you groaned only halfheartedly, shooting him a grin of your own as you fired up the engine and pulled out onto the road. You really did have your work cut out for you. Lucky for Michael, he was so easy on the eyes that you didn't mind as much as you should have. You pressed the 'on' button of the radio and stifled a laugh at the song that had just started playing:

I see the bad moon a-rising I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today

Don't go around tonight Well it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise

°°° 20 Minutes later, you pulled into a parking lot, turned off the engine, hopping out of the car, and came around to Michael's side to take an unneeded but deep breath, filling your lungs with crisp evening air and the distinct smell of desert. The sun had just begun to set, a slight chill setting in and the last remaining rays illuminated Michael's blond hair in a way that reminded you an awful lot of his father before the fall. You let your gaze wander over his sitting form for a second, before lightly slapping the arm he had draped over the side of the car, lost in his own thoughts.

“Come on, Angel, we're here,“ you chided playfully, knowing it would rile the blonde man up unnecessarily. On cue, Michael's gaze shot up to meet your own, nostrils flaring at the more than holy pet name.

“Don't call me that! I'm anything but that!“ he bit out but couldn't keep the blush from creeping up his neck. He didn't like the way you made him feel. Weak and unsure of himself. No power he had encountered could match his, not even Cordelia's and then you came along. As if he wasn't already feeling insecure enough, even after having massacred the witches and warlocks, you only added to the sense that he hadn't yet achieved what he was meant to do, or be where his father expected him to be. Sensing his unease, you tussled his locks with your left hand, pulling him out of his self-induced reverie.

“There is nothing a good cake can't fix, Michael. Trust me,” you smiled at him, hoping he would pull himself together and get out the car. At the word cake, he did perk up, finally glancing behind you to look at where you had taken him.

“The Cheesecake Factory, really?” he looked up at you quizzically, disbelieving. If you were in fact Death, and he wasn't yet sure you weren't lying to him despite your overpowering aura, shouldn't you be dining in some high-class restaurant on the other end of town where they didn't even have prices on the menu?

“Are you food shaming me?” you retorted, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Err, no. It just doesn't...suit you,” Michael replied, his right hand coming to massage the back of his neck, embarrassment evident at his remark.

“Wouldn't you like to know what does and doesn't suit me. If you must know, it's kind of my thing. Don't ask me why but I just can't keep my hands off sweet things,” you explained, winking at him and only adding to his embarrassment. Before the Antichrist could slide any further down your passenger seat and be swallowed whole by the ground, you opened his door and gestured for him to get out.

“Relax. You clearly don't know how to take a joke. Come on, I can smell the cakes from here.” You turned on your heels, cape dress swishing behind you as you made your way across the parking lot to the entry. You weren't quite sure your words were meant as a joke but that was a heart-to-heart you'd have with yourself later. The only sweet thing on your mind right now was cake and soda. The slam of the car door indicated that Michael had managed to detach himself from the red leather interior and he jogged up beside you, matching your stride.

“I hope you're hungry. I'm paying,” you said, smiling with glee and making Michael chuckle. Another thing to add to your slowly growing list of likes about the spawn of Satan, you noted to your dismay.

°°° You placed the fork neatly back onto the now empty plate, devoid of even the smallest crumb, that had held an entire ultimate red velvet cake, groaning blissfully. Eyes closed, you swallowed down the last bite. Opposite you, Michael had stopped eating his pasta dish some time ago. When you had said that there is nothing a cake couldn't fix, you had meant an entire cake after all.  The hunger you felt whenever you were in a human body was not easily satiated. Something that Michael or the waiter were clearly not prepared for. Both had been watching you for the last 5 minutes, jaws slack, as piece after piece traveled on the fork and into your mouth.

“That was positively delicious,” you hummed, casting a glance at Michael, fork suspended in mid-air.

“W-would you like anything else, Miss?” the waiter stuttered, taking your plate and admiring it as if it were a rare antiquity.

“Oh no, I think I've been quite naughty enough, don't you think?” you giggled, reaching for the Fanta and taking a large sip.

“Michael, you've hardly touched your food,” you noted, your voice rousing the young man out the trance your display of gluttony had placed him under. He cleared his throat, putting the fork down, adjusting his seat on the table.

“I'm not hungry anymore.”

“Oh, ok, well in that case we'd like the bill please,” you addressed the waiter with a satisfied grin, gulping down the last remnant of orange soda in your glass.

“Hey, you said you'd answer my questions! I knew you were a liar!” Michael intercepted, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“ I don't lie, Michael. You chose to watch me enjoy some cake instead of asking questions, didn't you?” you countered, your elbows coming to rest on the table, fingers intertwining. His anger and frustration bubbled to the surface once again. If he weren't the Antichrist, you were sure he would have a heart attack by the time he hit 30. His body tensed at your statement of truth, eyes squinting menacingly at you. Yet you were right, he had been so busy watching you, he had forgotten all about the myriad of questions buzzing in his mind like moths around a flame. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, gulping down the rage that threatened to burst out his chest. You watched as the blonde man tried to gain back his composure, your finger coming to run along the rim of the empty glass in front of you.

“Michael,” you demanded. His eyes opened to meet your own and you could see his restraint hanging by a thread in them. He did have a temper and you didn't want him setting fire to your favourite restaurant just yet.

“I'm in a good mood tonight. Instead of just answering your questions, I would like to show you something that will answer almost all of them. A deal is a deal,” you tried to reason. Michael mulled your words over in his head, sizing you up while doing so.

“Oh for goodness sake, Michael! I'm not trying to manipulate you. I'm trying to help you!” you exclaimed, exasperated at his hesitance and mistrust. While you knew his beginnings on this earth weren't exactly peppered in love, warmth and trust, you couldn't afford him seeing you as the enemy. Neither could he.

“If you don't believe me, take a peek. Make it last, this will be a one-off,” you encouraged him, an invisible finger beckoning him closer and allowing him limited access to your mind momentarily. Michael's mind pushed through your doors, grazing, flitting over millennia of memories before you let him look at your core.

No lies, Michael, you see?

You eased him out and sealed the doors shut tightly once again, leaning back in your chair, the restaurant coming back into focus.

“Here's your bill, Miss. Thank you for stopping by at the Cheesecake Factory tonight,” the waiter had brought you the bill. Wordlessly, you handed him a 100$ bill, nodding your head briefly at him to suggest that he could keep the change and waited for Michael's response.

“Ok,” Michael finally replied, rolling his head on his shoulders, resulting in a gratuitous cracking sound. You weren't sure if he was entirely satisfied with your show of goodwill. Not that it mattered.

“Let's take a walk,” you suggested, getting up without even the slightest hint of a stomach after decimating an entire cake. Michael's eyes never left you and the enigma you were to him just became a lot more enticing. A boyish smirk crossed his face as he stood up to walk in front of you. At the exit, he held open the door.

“My, my Michael. Didn't take you for a gentleman,” you chuckled, gracefully pushing past him and into the cool night air.

“My Ms. Mead would expect nothing less of me,” he offered, not bothering to hide his Cheshire cat smile. You had allowed him access to your mind and the things he saw, he desperately wanted to see again. You were like a box of confectioneries to him. For once in his life, his pride and ever-growing sense of entitlement took the backseat.  He felt like he had finally met someone of his own caliber and the feeling was exhilarating to him. You weren't his father but you were the next best thing and best of all, right in front of him.

Tag List:

@sexwon131​ @leatherduncan​ @rocketgirl2410​

#michael langdon x you #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse

[shhh-no-ones-home]

all i ever wanted jack daniels x reader

++++++++

imo this one is much better than the last. plus we get to see more of our faves lol. i hope yall like it!

Song: youre the one by greta van fleet

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

"max! come back!"

i yelled, chasing after my six year old. i heard him giggle as he ran towards the front door of the office.

"gotcha!"

i said, grabbing his hand before reaching around him and picking him, placing him against my hip with a huff.

"mommy i wanna go."

he whined and i shook my head, opening the door.

"i know baby but you have to be quiet, there are people working."

i said and he nodded, twisting his fist into my red blazer as we got in the elevator.

"do i get to see your office again?"

he asked excitedly and i sent him a smile.

"yes baby, you get to tour the lab too if ginger remembered you where coming today."

i said and he bounced against me, kicking his legs. i could barely hold onto him.

"mommy look!"

he pointed as the elevator opened, the large statesman emblem was embossed on the wall. i nodded with a smile.

"you wanna touch it?"

i asked and he nodded, leaning forward with his hand outstretched. he placed his hand against it, rubbing his fingers into the grooves like he had the last few times he'd visited.

"is that my favorite little man?"

i heard from behind me and turned to look at champ making his way down the hall.

"champ!"

he screamed, wiggling out of my grasp and running into his arms.

"you're getting so big."

champ said with a groan as he hoisted him up into his arms.

"im six now!"

max said loudly as we began the short walk down the hall to my office.

"six?! you're practically a grown up!"

champ said, making max giggle.

"no silly, im not that old."

he said with a smile as we rounded the corner.

"well, big man, what do we have on our list of things to do today?"

he asked as i moved to my desk to start my computer.

"ginger said i could tour the lab!"

he said loudly as champ sat in the chair opposite me, looking up to me and giving me an almost impressed look as max got comfy in his lap.

"well doesnt that sound fun."

max nodded quickly.

"hey kiddo, how about when you're done, you have ginger bring you by my office. i got a present for ya."

champ said and i sent him a look.

"really?!"

max said, wrapping his arms around champs neck in a hug.

"thanks."

he said, champ laughing a little bit as he hugged him back.

"well i gotta get back to work buddy, ill see after the tour. yeah?"

he said, holding him and standing up, setting him down in the chair.

"okay champ!"

he said with a wave and i nodded to champ as he made his way to the door.

"dont forget that mission assessment today either."

he said and i nodded.

"im meeting with jack during the tour."

i said and he nodded before closing the door behind him.

"mommy when do i get to see ginger?"

max asked impatiently as i sat, laughing a little bit.

"let me call her baby and i will let you know."

°°°°°°°°°

"ginger!"

max yelled, letting go of my hand and running to her as the doors opened. to my surprise jack was standing there talking to her, looking to me with an interested look as max came barreling into ginger for a hug. she crouched down and ruffled his hair as he pulled her glasses off, tucking the temples behind his ears and smiling at her widely. i laughed a little bit.

"baby you cant just take peoples glasses without asking first."

i said and he looked to me with a frown.

"sorry."

he said bashfully, handing them back to her and watching her stand.

"its okay max. are we ready for that tour?"

she asked, placing them back on her face, and he nodded quickly.

"please, please, please!"

he said quickly, taking her hand.

"ill see you when we're done?"

she asked and i nodded.

"oh, i almost forgot, take him to the conference room when you're done. champ said he had something for the little mans birthday."

i said looking down at him and raising my brows.

"oh thats right."

she said, also looking down at him.

"youre what? twelve?"

she asked playfully and he laughed.

"ginger, you know i just turned six."

he informed her and she nodded, closing her eyes and acting it up.

"oh thats right! six!"

she said, leaning down to his eyes level.

"i think we have something special just for you in here too."

she said and his eyes went wide.

"really?"

he asked and she nodded.

"yep, but we have to wait till we go see champ before you can have it."

she said and he nodded quickly, squeezing her hand and pulling her forward.

"lets get to it then!"

he said and i laughed, waving as they disappeared further into the room. i shook my head and looked to jack.

"ready to get that meeting started?"

i asked and he nodded, following me as i turned to walk out of the lab.

"so,"

he said and i sent him a raised brow.

"whose kid?"

he asked and i huffed out a laugh.

"mine, jack, he's mine."

i said and he nodded.

"funny, you didnt mention him."

he said and i shook my head.

"forgive me for not informing the out of towner."

i said with a wink and he rolled his eyes.

"hey y/n."

tequila greeted as he rounded the corner just as we did. he tipped his hat to jack.

"whiskey."

he said. i turned around and walked backwards to look at tequila as he got further away.

"max is in the lab with ginger, party in the conference room after their tour."

i said and he fist pumped.

"ill be there!"

i nodded once before turning back around. jack sent me a look.

"what?"

i asked innocently and he shook his head.

"am i the only one that didn't know you had a kid?"

he asked and i laughed.

"guess so cowboy."

i said, opening the door to my office and letting him in.

"as your boyfriend i feel like i shouldve known before now."

he said and i snorted.

"jack you are not my boyfriend."

i reminded and he sent me a look.

"have we not been going on dates?"

he asked and i closed my eyes, shaking my head and making my way behind my desk.

"missions are not dates jack."

i pointed out and he shrugged, dropping into the chair on the other side.

"why not? if i remember correctly most missions aren't supposed to end with your tongue down my throat."

he said and i sent him a stern look.

"jack-"

he held his hands up.

"no, no, i get it. you dont want a relationship as much as i don't. we're on the same page."

he said and i sighed.

"jack we talked about this. we both have our reasons for not getting into it. i just... i dont want him to get used to someone and then things end badly again. hes already lost one dad, i cant live with the guilt of breaking his heart like that again."

i said and he nodded.

"darlin, i know better than anyone what its like to lose your family, but that doesnt mean we both cant move forward. we have shared experience in that department, maybe it could make our relationship stronger."

i looked to my desk for a moment.

"let me prove it to you. let me take you out on a proper date, let your kiddo get used to me as another statesman agent, and if things get serious later on down the line then great, we can let him know about us."

he said and i looked back to him, chewing the inside of my lip.

"fine. ill let him get close to you today, see if he likes you if you really do plan on hanging around for a bit."

he nodded.

"champ needs me here for a while, i wont be going back to new york long term for at least a few months. besides, you know how badly i wanted to be a dad once upon a time, let me show you i can do this."

he said and i sighed.

"alright, ill give you a shot. but for now lets just get to work. we have to finish this mission report before the tour is over."

he nodded once.

"yes ma'am."

°°°°°°°°°

"mommy look!"

max shouted as jack and i walked into the conference room, running to me wearing his very own black Stetson and bolo tie.

"champ said im an honorary statesman!"

he said excitedly, fixing the tie into place. i laughed a little bit, looking to champ sat at the desk before crouching down in front of him.

"and you are the cutest statesman there ever was."

i said, holding his waist lightly and kissing his cheek. he giggled at me before hugging me quickly and running back to the table.

"now you look like whiskey."

tequila joked, pointing to jack and max looked at him. his eyes went wide as he set his crayon down onto the coloring page he was working on.

"i wanna be like whiskey!"

he said boldly, sliding off the chair and standing next to him, copying the exact way he was standing. jack dropped to one knee and looked over at max.

"its like looking in a tiny mirror."

jack said, max beaming at his words. they both looked up at me.

"what do we think mom? dont we look alike?"

jack tormented and i sent him a testing look.

"i guess we have a new favorite huh?"

i said slightly amused and max side nodded.

"mommy, no one could replace you, but i cant dress like you your shoes are to hard to walk in."

he said, making us all laugh as he climbed back into the chair and went back to coloring.

"thank you baby, i appreciate that."

i said, taking the seat next to him and looking at the page he was working so diligently on.

"did we get more horses?"

i asked, looking to ginger and her nodding.

"i remembered how much he loved going to the stables last time he was here."

she said and i sent her a knowing smile.

"oh, yeah, he has been obsessed ever since."

i said, looking back to him. my gaze made its way to jack as he looked down at him coloring.

"you like horses buddy?"

he asked and max nodded.

"my favorite is the mustang. mommy even lets me watch spirit before dinner every night."

he said proudly, not looking away from his project.

"how would you like to see a real life one?"

jack asked and i sent him a look. max's head snapped in his direction quickly.

"you have a mustang?!"

he asked bewildered and jack laughed.

"yeah i do. ill make you a deal."

he said, pointing at max and max was hooked.

"next time you come in with your mommy, and she's okay with it, ill take ya to go see him. and maybe take ya for a ride around the complex."

he said and max looked to me quickly.

"mommy! mommy please! i wanna see the mustang!"

he said and i sighed, brushing some of the hairs out of his eyes.

"okay baby, next time you visit we can go see whiskeys mustang."

i said and he fist pumped the air.

"yes! thank you mommy!"

he said hugging me. i watched jack with a burning gaze as he sat on the other side of max. i looked to champ and he sent me an amused look.

"kids will be kids."

he said and i rolled my eyes.

"now, how about that birthday cake we talked about?"

#wattpad #x reader #jack daniels #agent whiskey #imagines #one shots #kingsman golden circle #303

[investigatingaj]

TASK ONE: ABOUT ADORA JANE AJ DARKE !

Character’s full name: Adora Jane Mary-Anna Darke Reason for name and/or meaning of name: Adora Jane is her first name... yes, both names. All of her names come from family except Adora, because her mother always loved that name and She-Ra. Jane comes from her paternal grandmother, Jane Darke and Mary-Anna is her maternal grandmother’s name. Character’s nickname: AJ, Little Darke (to a small few) Reason for nickname: Her parents have called her AJ since she was a kid, she’s always preferred it to her full name. Older people around town have taken to calling her Little Darke since she was a kid, because she looks like her mother and because she’s the youngest member of her family, naturally. Birth date: August 30, 2000

Physical appearance Faceclaim: Lili Reinhart Gender: Cis woman Height: 5′8 Build: Slim and relatively fit Eye color: Green Glasses or contacts?: No Distinguishing marks/scars: She has a couple of small, faint scars on her arms and legs, most of which her parents assumed were from her childhood as she had a tendency to scratch herself during her nightmares. She has a very faint collection of freckles on the bridge of her nose and at the tops of her cheeks. She also has quite a few beauty spots/freckles on her arms. Hair color: Blonde Type of hair: Long with a slight wave, has some layering to it and is mostly nice due to her mother taking her to get it done whenever she’s home. Hairstyle: Typically she wears it half up half down, though she’ll often do a low ponytail or just have it out too. Voice claim: Lili Reinhart but without her singing voice... AJ cannot sing at all. Physical disabilities: N/a Clothing style: Mostly can be found in pants, ranging from thick, coloured corduroys, to jeans, to suit pants and at times, even the occasional pair of overalls. She’s often not caught dead without her favourite leather jacket, passed down by her mother from the 90s and still in quite good condition. She loves to wear button up dress shirts, vests and blazers. She’s typically in something belted and high-waisted. She also frequently wears boots and sneakers most often. She’s at all times wearing a crucifix with a built in blade and caries a worn shoulder bag. AJ tends to favour shades of brown, grey, black and green. Make up: If she’s had a late night, she might put on some concealer. If she wants to look nice, she’ll add eyeliner and maybe a tinted lip balm.

Personality Good personality traits: Quick-witted, loyal, intelligent, resourceful, charming, adventurous, amicable, playful, broad-minded, brave, determined, imaginative. Bad personality traits: Headstrong, secretive, compulsive, impatient, resentful, manipulative. Mood character is most often in: Contemplative but hiding it, usually wearing a smile Sense of humor: AJ loves to be sarcastic, she loves wordy, stupid jokes, also doesn’t mind a good pun Articulation: She’s fairly well spoken and tries to always pick her words carefully, she was really into giving speeches in middle school after she finally got some confidence... she then realised how embarrassing that was Character’s greatest joy in life: Being with her friends, uncovering new information with them and putting it all together Character’s greatest fear: Not being able to help or protect her friends and somehow losing them to her own ignorance Character is most at ease when: In her element, researching or putting together the board in Scooby HQ Most ill at ease when: She’s stuck on one particular thing and can’t get past it. She’s not good at putting things down and moving on, ever. Enraged when: Someone hurts one of her friends or lies to her Depressed or sad when: Her mother leaves for another trip Priorities: Unravelling the supernatural shit in Bridgemead, her friends, her family Life philosophy: Almost nothing is impossible Greatest strength: Her determination and strength even when things feel so much bigger than her Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Her tendency to push down and hide her emotions

Goals Drives and motivations: The search for knowledge, being able to keep herself and others safe Immediate goals: Solving each mystery/helping each person as they come along Long term goals: Becoming a fixture in her town, being appreciated beyond her circle

Childhood Hometown: Bridgemead, MA Type of childhood: From the ages of about 4-8, AJ was plagued by nightmares that seemed so incredibly vivid that they made her a very anxious, exhausted and grumpy little girl. Her parents tried to give time and energy to helping her, after it became clear that ignoring the problem wouldn’t help. Professional help is what they swore saved them all. Despite some of the more horrible stuff in her childhood, her parents did their best with her even if they weren’t really the most affectionate or naturally empathetic people. They never took her fears seriously, though. She formed a much closer bond with her mother, clinging to her even more when she started travelling again. She gained a lot of independence as she got older and when her parents noticed it, it gave them the confidence to let her do as she pleased, but it also let them pull back a little as parents, guilt free. Pets: Her dad is allergic to both cats and dogs, so they had a particularly large tropical fish tank instead. AJ didn’t name them because she liked calling them their scientific names instead and she liked watching them. Most important childhood memory: The first time her mother took her to the lookout tower 40 mins out of Bridgemead. It was towards the end of her struggle with the nightmares and she was feeling exhausted and sad, so her mother told her to get on her snow gear and took her out to look at nature as the sun went down. It was beautiful and probably one of her nicest memories from this time. Dream job: Private detective, but maybe the supernatural kind Religion: Her parents raised her as Christian, technically, but they never went to Church

Present Current location: Bridgemead, MA Currently living with: Still with her parents in North Bridgemead Pets: None, she wants a dog Religion: Athiest Sexuality: Not straight, but unsure Politics: Very left learning, always votes but struggles to stay up to date with everything Occupation/education: Graduated from high school, currently an assistant for her aunt, Delia Darke Mode of transportation: Baby blue Mustang Convertible, passed down from her grandmother, the family has paid to keep it in good condition

Family Parent one: Harrison Darke, doctor at Bridgemead General Hospital Relationship with them: Though AJ and her father are always in the same house, they kind of end up being two ships passing in the night, for the most part. He’s a workaholic and so is she, in a sense, though if he ever heard what she actually did outside of working for Delia, he’d be pissed. The two of them barely speak and their relationship only worsened when AJ came home unexpectedly early one day after a Scooby Gang and found her father with another woman in his study. He asked her not to tell her mother, so she asked for cash. He’s been paying her monthly ever since. Parent two: Clara Darke, travel writer Relationship with them: AJ’s mother is quite the flighty type, she hates staying in one place too long and is a social butterfly intensified by a hundred. She loves her job and sometimes spends months out of the country. She’s a little famous for her writing if you’re interested in travel. She tried a little harder to be a good mother when AJ was younger and they have a good bond when she’s around, but it’s mostly because AJ never wants to be ruining her moments with her by getting upset/complaining. They only really talk about superficial stuff, nothing deep and while she feels bad not telling her about her dad, she tells herself there’s no reason to ruin everything. Siblings: N/A Relationship with them: N/A Other important family members: Cordelia ‘Delia’ Darke, great aunt and her father’s aunt... often referred to as just ‘aunt Delia’

Favorites Color: Dark green Music: Moody 90s indie and rock music, she loves Fiona Apple and Hole Food: Steak Film: Heathers or Hellraiser Drink: Screwdriver, probably Form of entertainment: Does research count? She likes true crime documentaries and podcasts, too. Most prized possession: Her car

Habits Hobbies: Very early morning runs, research, puzzle games, sketching, journaling Plays a musical instrument? Only a little bit of acoustic guitar Plays a sport? She used to run track in high school, but that’s it How he/she would spend a rainy day: Probably cooped up in the library or her bedroom with several books in front of her, music playing, a scented candle lit and coffee. Spending habits: She tries to save as much as she can, despite the money coming in from two sources now, it’s not actually that much. She doesn’t splurge, mostly because she also doesn’t need to let anyone know about the whole blackmail thing. Smoking/drinking/drugs?: She drinks occasionally, if everyone else is doing it. Smoked once at sixteen, never again. Extremely skilled at: Research, gently manipulating people/getting what she wants, keeping secrets/hiding what she’s thinking, talking to people, thinking outside the box. Extremely unskilled at: Opening up to others, being sensitive enough to not choose the logical option, getting eight hours or sleep, patience. Nervous tics: Her stare typically intensifies in annoyance/anger when she’s nervous. Usual body posture: She has pretty good posture, always walks with her shoulders back and her head high. Mannerisms: She tends to get lost in thought, noticing things when maybe she should be listening. She folds her arms over her chest a lot or scratches the back of her neck when she needs to think quickly and feel stressed. Peculiarities: She sometimes won’t allow herself to do certain things until other tasks are done. Like, if they order pizza, she can’t have a slice until she finishes a task.

Traits Optimist or pessimist? Somewhere in the middle Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Depends on the situation, she leans towards cautious Logical or emotional? Leader or follower? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? There’s method to her mess, okay? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Animal lover? She thinks they’re okay

Self-perception How do they feels about themselves?: AJ is confident in herself because she knows her abilities and thinks she’s capable of a lot... but she also knows that she’s not really a good person, even if she justifies the things she does for the sake of the group or someone’s wellbeing. One word the character would use to describe themselves: Strong What does the character consider their best trait?: Her quick wit What does the character consider their worst trait?: Her inability to let things go What does the character consider their best physical characteristic?: Her legs What does the character consider their worst physical characteristic?: She never bought into the whole women hating their bodies thing, but she wishes she had more muscle definition How does the character think others perceive them?: She thinks people see her as strange, charming and determined. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: She’d like to be stronger.

Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: She thinks most people are blissfully clueless, but she doesn’t hate them for it. Opinion of the Scooby Gang: She’s protective of every member. She thinks they all have something to offer, but she also cares about them and considers all of them her friends. Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others? Absolutely, she’s not into sharing things unless they need to be shared. Most important person in character’s life: She would hate to answer this question. She’d say her aunt or her mother or even Arabella, but maybe it’s... herself? Best friend/s: Arabella Byrne, Dylan Frye and Kody Pierce. Dating experience: Literally none. AJ doesn’t date and claims loudly that she’d never want to date. One time a guy tried to ask her to a dance in middle school and she got so freaked out that she kicked him in the balls and ran away. That being said, her first kiss has happened and it was Arabella, but that’s not really a romantic thing. It was just the only person she trusted enough to do that with at the time and they were quite young. Romancing: First of all, AJ would probably bury those feelings so hard and avoid them so she’d never even go about romancing anyone. If she were really trying, or at least subtly trying, though, she might just do little extra things for them, leave them small gifts. It would be subtle. She has no active interest in dating.

Extra Physicality: AJ keeps relatively fit, but she doesn’t have fighting skills outside of self-defence just yet. She’d like to learn some. She also has started occasionally lifting weights to build up muscle. Species: Human How do they feel about it?: Part of her always feels a little uneasy because of how vulnerable she is, but she’s not sure she’d be lining up to be anything else just yet.

#bridgemeadtask01 #god this took forever i'm so sorry u guys lmao

[ryoceann]

Walker- 1x02 ~spoilers~

Literally I am terrible, the 3rd episode is airing tomorrow in my country sdksjd and I’m doing LAST WEEK’S review rn ok nvm let’s get to it!

~spoilers~ last warnining!!!

THIS EPISODE WAS SO GOOD!!! I LOVED IT SO SO SO MUCH!!!!

The scene in the beginning with Walker and Emily, THE INITIAL BAG. INITIALS!!!!(wincest parallel everyone) UGH THAT SCENE WAS HEARTWRENCHING.

Micki and Trey are so cute! MICKI IS SO PRETTY LIKE???? I LOVE HER CHARACTER SO MUCH MICKI RAMIREZ PLEASE MARRY ME

How does Jared have such insane chemistry with every single brother he has King how.

STELLA’S FRIEND NOT BEING ALLOWED TO PLAY BECAUSE OF HER DIFFERENT RACE/ETHINICITY UGH MADE ME SO MAD. *looks at all the claims that says Walker is just another copaganda show and doesn’t deal with important issues* ehem. STELLA IS SUCH A QUEEN I LOVE HER. She is so caring and protective yes.

CORDELL IS SUCH A PROBLEMATIC DAD PLEASE. 

Walker driving the car, sir run me over ty

Walker and Geri are so cute! ALSO SHE CLOSED HER EYES???? Dammit, Walker really was chasing ghosts. Not so much to Emily’s murder like we originally thought huh. 

WALKER AND MICKI WALKER AND MICKI WALKER AND MICKI

Cordell nailing those targets yes you get em cowboy. #just recertification things.

I love queso walker give me some please? AHHSSDJJDJ THAT SCENE WITH MICKI AND WALKER AND LARRY, ‘’maybe you should’ve shaved’’ LMAO THEY ARE EPIC

THE ‘TEST’ JOKE THAT WAS PEAK JARED NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.

Walker- tall guy, laughs at his own jokes? *fond look*. Me: spontaneously combusts while laughing.

Micki being concerned for Walker i am s o f t. How am i supposed to get off the cordirez train now huh.

WALKER TALKING TO THAT HORSE SO GENTLY I AM SOBBING.

‘‘Walker! You’re certified!!’ Same Larry Same. 

MICKI TAKING DOWN THOSE GUYS IN THE CAR YES QUEEN YES. Cordirez are such a good team no one @ me. and WALKER ON THE HORSE. ‘’may not be a ranger but i’m still a cowboy’’ AAAAHHHH PERFECT.

Stella and Walker dynamic. Stella gives me so many s1 Sam vibes ngl. UGH NO DONT FIGHT SDJSJDJ. AND SHIT THERE SPILLS THE SECRET OF LIAM TAKING CUSTODY OF WALKER’S KIDS SHIT SHIT SHIT

I love Liam no one hurt him AND ALSO BRET!!! THEY ARE ADORABLE. Keegan Allen saying ‘babe’ keeps me awake at night.

WALKER AND LIAM FIGHT. BROTHER FIGHT BROTHER FIGHT BROTHER FIGHT SHIT NO. WHY. The hand-neck touch aAAAHHHHHHHH *screams into oblivion*

‘‘chasing ghosts again’‘ the poKER CHIP WAS FROM A FATHER’S DAY PRESENT???? damn it. I did not see that coming.

August is a SWEETHEART I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, ‘’I’m good wherever you are Dad’’ *dies*

More Walker and Stella scenes! I teared up when they did that texting thing and she said ‘’I miss mom so much’’ *sobs softly* alSO STELLA HID THE CUP? *claps*

I needed that Stella and Walker hug so much. ‘’just because it’s broken doesn’t mean we can’t take it along with us’’ that hit deep.

Also I love Walker’s parents so much??? AND MITCH IS DOING  ATEXAN ACCENT DSJKDDJFD YES. ‘’he’s got to pick up where he left off’’ NO DON’T SPN FLASHNACKS WAR FLASHBACKS ALER ALERT.

Walker calling his dad ‘Daddy’ and mom ‘Mama’ is just so innocent and is hitting me in all the soft places.

That last scene with Walker and his kids and that video with the entire family with Emily made me tear up. AGAIN. That was so bittersweet.

Speculation/Thoughts for Episode 3:-  I LOVE THE CAR ALREADY. RED FORD MUSTANG YES BABY YES. Also Hoyt? He is for sure like a bad guy or the doer of whatever crime happens in this episode. FRIENDS COMING BACK FROM LONG AGO ALWAYS ARE OK IDC. HOYT IS SUS. Also Walker has a soft spot for old friends coming back, i love him. Stella-August angst?  More family drama. Yes sign me up. And Micki suspects that Hoyt, is up to something...Walker and Micki tussle? WHICH GETS RESOLVED OK CW PLEASE.

I AM SO HYPED FOR THE 3RD EPISODE! AND CONGRATS ON 2ND SEASON JARED!!!

#walker #walker 1x02 #walker 1x02 episode review #walker spoilers #thoughts #jared padalecki #cordell walker #micki ramirez #stella walker #august walker #liam walker #cordirez #avery's walker thoughts

[tabloidtoc]

OK, November 23

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jeff Bridges opens up about the fight of his life 

Page 2: Contents 

Page 3: Contents 

Page 4: Lori Loughlin’s life behind bars -- Lori’s been having a hard time adjusting to her new reality

Page 6: The holiday season will look a little different for Prince Harry this year -- originally the plan was for Harry to travel to England around Christmastime and Meghan Markle reluctantly agreed though she was far from happy with the idea but now with new travel restrictions in place due to Covid-19 she’s told him there’s no way they’re leaving California which is crushing for Harry who was looking forward to spending the holidays with the royals especially since he missed out last year and he’s been horribly homesick these last few months and he misses the holiday traditions he grew up with even though he loves his life in America with Meghan and son Archie 

Page 7: Newly single Kelly Clarkson has been swooning over country crooner Brett Eldredge her collaborator on the flirty new Christmas tune Under the Mistletoe -- they spent lots of time together in the studio and on the phone and really bonded while they were cutting this sexy song, Brad Pitt’s most recent ex-girlfriend Nicole Poturalski has started talking to friends about what happened between them in detail and it’s an embarrassing mess for Brad who prides himself on privacy, after 16 seasons as colleagues and sparring BFFs on The Voice Adam Levine and Blake Shelton are besties no more because there was a lot of talk between them about keeping in touch and hanging out after Adam left the show but amid lingering tensions neither has made an effort and Adam may not even be invited when Blake marries Gwen Stefani

Page 8: Ever since Sofia Richie split for good from Scott Disick she’s been out every night with some really shady types to the dismay of her dad Lionel Richie who is not liking what he’s hearing about her partying and dating habits -- Sofia has already jumped into a new relationship with Cha Cha Matcha founder Matthew Morton and is hanging nonstop with his crew -- Lionel thought breaking free from Scott would mean a calmer life but it just sees like she’s gone off the rails, Betty White is already gearing up to celebrate her 99th birthday in January with a low-key yet reverent bash, she’s been linked to several Hollywood hunks of late but Lily James just wants her old beau back and she’s regretting breaking off her five-year relationship with Matt Smith -- since the split she’s been linked to Dominic West and Armie Hammer and Chris Evans and the onslaught has only made her miss Matt more -- Matt’s always had her back and Lily knows she made a mistake letting him go but Matt feels duped regarding all the rumors about her and other guys but she swears nothing happened and that she misses him

Page 10: Red Hot on the Red Carpet -- stars wow in romantic ruffled gowns -- Keke Palmer, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kirsten Dunst 

Page 11: Lupita Nyong’o, Halsey 

Page 12: Who Wore It Better? Renee Bargh vs. Alessandra Ambrosio

Page 14: News In Photos -- Paris Jackson posed for a portrait in Beverly Hills days before releasing her debut solo album 

Page 15: Adam Brody with his newborn son in Malibu, pregnant Jinger Duggar stepped out in Venice with husband Jeremy Vuolo and their daughter Felicity for lunch, Lady Gaga on stage at a drive-in concert in Pittsburgh 

Page 16: Rebecca Romijn and Jerry O’Connell headed out for brunch with one of their twin daughters in Encino, Camila Cabello held on tight to one of her three pups while chasing another one who escaped from his leash in Miami, Pierce Brosnan playing golf in Hawaii 

Page 18: DJ Diplo took a dip in the ocean in Miami, John Legend took his Ford Mustang out for a spin with wife Chrissy Teigen and one of their dogs in Beverly Hills 

Page 19: Bella Thorne and boyfriend Benjamin Mascolo in Rome, Scott Disick was Ace Ventura for Halloween in L.A. 

Page 20: Ruff Life -- stars show love for their canine companions -- Ariel Winter and her latest rescue Cobey, Jamie Chung and her dog, soccer star Alex Morgan with her dogs Kona and Blue 

Page 21: Nev Schulman cuddled up with Dancing With the Stars partner Jenna Johnson’s dog Ziggy, PLEASE ADOPT, DON’T SHOP  

Page 22: Shawn Mendes on a walk in Miami, Kate Mara stopped by Target with her daughter, Ellen DeGeneres dressed up as a nurse who is her favorite superhero 

Page 24: Skai Jackson headed to rehearsals for Dancing With the Stars, Elizabeth Lyn Vargas of Real Housewives of Orange County gave a tour of her home, Joe Jonas strolling daughter Willa around the neighborhood 

Page 25: Thomas Brodie-Sangster attended the premiere of Stardust a biopic about David Bowie in London, Donnie Wahlberg and Steve Schirripa filmed a scene for Blue Bloods in Brooklyn 

Page 26: Taking over duties from Prince Harry his stepmother Duchess Camilla arrived at the Field of Remembrance to commemorate those who lost their lives in the armed forces in London, Amber Heard enjoyed a hike with her dog in L.A., Renee Elisa Goldsberry and Sara Bareilles and Paula Pell and Busy Philipps filmed a scene for Tina Fey’s upcoming series Girls5Eva in NYC 

Page 27: Offset delivered free food to voters waiting in line on Election Day, Ciara in Seattle 

Page 28: Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes have finally become husband and wife in a low-key ceremony in the backyard of their L.A. home with just a handful of family and close friends like Steve Carell and Emma Stone were in attendance -- Ryan wore jeans with a button-down shirt while Eva wore a red dress from her own collection -- now that the party’s over Eva and Ryan have been talking about having a third child

Page 29: Reality hit Love Is Blind hooked viewers with its OMG premise but the show’s married cohosts Nick Lachey and Vanessa Lachey were decidedly less riveting and their presenting style was laughably wooden and stiff and while the duo is slated to return for the show’s second season Nick and Vanessa have been put on notice to spice it up, Tori Spelling is freaking out at the prospect of her husband Dean McDermott spending six months alone in Toronto which is the same town where he cheated on her seven years ago -- Dean has signed on to star in Canadian TV show Lady Dicks and while Tori should be thrilled that that he’ll be bringing in some income for their often-struggling family of seven she is preparing for the worst 

Page 30: While it appears Nina Dobrev and Shaun White have spent 2020 in hardcore flirt mode Nina’s friends have cautioned that this is a dead-end romance because Shaun shows up and posts pictures of them on social media but the fact is they’ve barely spent any time together and they hook up and then he goes back to his own place -- Shaun rarely invites Nina to either of his two Hollywood Hills pads and is proving his flaky reputation is legit, things are looking up for parents-to-be Kit Harington and Rose Leslie after a rocky start to their marriage the two are finally in a happy place -- Kit has stopped boozing and this baby has put a fire under him to be more accommodating and besides helping update and baby-proof the couple’s 15th century countryside manor Kit’s been more attentive to Rose in every way, Love Bites -- Erika Jayne and Tom Girardi split, Maya Erskine and Michael Angarano are engaged and expecting, Ashlee Simpson welcomed her second child with husband Evan Ross 

Page 32: Cover Story -- Jeff Bridges: I’m not giving up -- how the beloved star is coping during his brave health battle 

Page 36: Katherine Heigl why she disappeared -- the reason Katherine walked away from the spotlight ad how she found her way back 

Page 38: Home Alone turns 30 -- in honor of the holiday classic’s milestone anniversary secrets and trivia about the movie and its stars 

Page 40: Feel the Burn -- fitness fanatic Morgan Coleman is here to take your home workout up a notch 

Page 42: Healthy Holidays -- how stars stay fit and feeling their best during the festive season 

Page 46: Style Week -- Olivia Culpo has teamed up with her siblings on an exclusive collection for Macy’s 

Page 48: What’s Hot Right Now -- Madewell wants you to Make Weekends Longer with its new sustainable MWL collection 

Page 49: Steal Her Style -- Drew Barrymore 

Page 50: Dress the Halls -- festive pieces to rock through the holidays even if you’re celebrating at home -- AnnaSophia Robb 

Page 54: Entertainment 

Page 55: Q&A -- Jake Tyson

Page 58: Buzz -- Just weeks after Kim Kardashian West was slammed over her 40th birthday bash Kendall Jenner received similar criticism for throwing a jam-packed soiree for her 25th birthday 

Page 60: Sound Bites -- Cameron Diaz on having a baby at 47, Conan O’Brien on the props that were stolen from his late-night set, Sacha Baron Cohen joking that he and his wife Isla Fisher are not A-listers, Anne Hathaway on the embarrassing ways she handled the lockdown 

Page 61: Florence Pugh on her close relationship with her Black Widow costar Scarlett Johansson, Christine Quinn on not being bothered by negative comments, Chelsea Handler on crushing on New York governor Andrew Cuomo 

Page 62: Horoscope -- Lisa Bonet turned 53 on November 16 

Page 64: By the Numbers -- Colin Jost

#tabloid #grain of salt #tabloid toc #tabloidtoc #jeff bridges #lily james #matt smith #kit harington #rose leslie #colin jost #katherine heigl #home alone #jake tyson #lori loughlin #prince harry #meghan markle #kelly clarkson #brett eldredge #brad pitt #nicole poturalski #adam levine #blake shelton #lionel richie #sofia richie #betty white #who wore it better? #eva mendes #ryan gosling #nick lachey #vanessa lachey

[alchemic-elric]

@flameleads is up to no fuckin' good again:

"I need some advice." Hand to his chin, Roy looked like he was pacing back and forth for a while. "I have a date tonight, and I want to impress them. They're a biologist, so I was thinking... should I wear designer genes for them?"

He cannot believe he is putting his book down to listen to this old man prattle on about needing advice for a goddamn date. Since when in the furthest reaches of hell has Roy Mustang ever needed help with a dat -

"Yer a piece'a'shit ya know that?! I hope she dumps yer ass fer bullshit like that. Designer genes yer an asshole. You interruptin' book fer this bullshit? I curse this date'a'yers with zero chemistry."

#science saturday #|| you're my papa and no one else | flameleads || #flameleads #ask || edward answers #// it was sent on saturday so it still counts and now reviving the tag #mustang presents: dad jokes

[jovialyouthmusic]

Top of the Tree

Bastien meets Sophia’s parents for the first time as they visit for Christmas

Word Count 3592

A/N All the ‘holiday’ (for Brits, read ‘Christmas’) stories got me wondering what Sophia and Bastiens’ first celebration would be like. Please note I have modelled Sophia’s parents on mine as a tribute to them. There are a few truths hidden in the story - see if you can spot them, or I’d be happy to tell when asked.

Warnings - brief mention of problems with fertility. Otherwise, all fluff xx

Bastien waited with Sophia in the tiny terminal of Cordonia’s airport. Her eyes shone and she fidgeted nervously. Her parents were arriving soon to spend the Christmas holidays with them and meet Bastien for the first time. He was restless, pulling at his tie, wishing he had a mirror to check that he was neatly presented. In order to make a good impression he had left his cane in the car, as he was able to do for short periods of time, though he knew he might regret it later.

‘They’ll be landing soon’ she exclaimed ‘It will be so good to see them – it’s been a long time’

‘I’m looking forward to meeting them’ Bastien smiled, though he felt a slight pang of nervousness.

‘They want to meet you too’ she replied ‘Having them here for Christmas will be lovely.’

‘Are you absolutely sure they’re okay with me being so much older?’ Bastien asked for the tenth time. He wasn’t really much for family gatherings, only having foster parents, and it was important to him that Sophia’s parents like him. She hugged his arm and leaned into him

‘It’s fine Bas, ten years isn’t that big a difference, and they know my tastes. My first proper boyfriend was six years older and Dad nearly had a fit, but he’s cool now. Don’t worry, Bas - Mum will just eat you up and Dad will want to hear all about your job. Staying at the Palace is a huge deal for Mum – she’s always following news of the British Royal Family. She’ll probably not know what to do with herself, but she’ll settle down’

The airport tannoy announced the arrival of the flight, and soon the passengers started to file through. Sophia grinned excitedly

‘Oh there they are!’ she bounced on the balls of her feet and waved as a middle aged couple – the man tall and dark haired, the woman a full head and a half shorter and also raven haired, detached themselves from the line and made their way toward them. As a child, she had amazed admirers – she was a cute toddler but a fair haired girl with dark haired parents drew many an odd stare, but it was natural and in later years she delighted in telling folk that it was quite possible, as both parents must hold a recessive gene for blonde hair. She was a cherished only child, her mother having had trouble conceiving, and in the back of her mind she had wondered whether it would be possible for her to have children at all. Her biological clock had not troubled her at all, and of course, Bastien had a vasectomy so unless he specifically had it reversed, fertility wasn’t a pressing issue.

She couldn’t contain herself any longer and rushed forward to throw her arms wide and hug her mother. Her father, a stern faced man who looked younger than his years, as did her mother to a greater degree, smiled warmly at the reunion and turned his gaze to Bastien as he made his way toward the family group. He felt his stomach lurch with apprehension – this was a unique situation as he’d never had a partner long enough for it to be considered important to meet relatives. He smiled nervously as Sophia let go of her mother and turned to her father to hug him warmly too.

‘Dad, I hope you had enough leg room, are you okay?’ she asked. Bastien was now under the full scrutiny of Edith, who looked him up and down appraisingly before speaking,

‘Is this your man, darling?’ she asked cautiously and Sophia turned back to him, taking his arm and pulling him closer, smiling happily

‘Mum, Dad, this is Bastien’ she replied ‘Bas, meet my parents’ He plastered a smile on his face and extended his hand to her father, who reached out and grasped it firmly, patting his elbow with the other.

‘A pleasure to meet you, Bastien’ he intoned gravely

‘Mr Turner – Mrs Turner’ he replied

‘Please, call me Bob – and this is Edith’ her father replied. Bastien badly wanted to loosen his collar and he felt himself sweating slightly. This had to be the second most terrifying moment of his life, worse than diving to shield Liam from the assassin’s bullet, only slightly less terrifying than the moment he realised Sophia had been kidnapped.  His heart hammered in his chest and his hands felt clammy. It was ridiculous that over his working life he had faced many a danger with cool aplomb, but this was seriously threatening his usually calm demeanour.

‘Of course Bob - Edith’ he answered. Edith was eyeing him up – literally, as he was two heads taller than her, and he swallowed hard.

‘My goodness, you’re tall’ she remarked ‘what’s the weather like up there?’

‘Mum – for goodness sake’ Sophia sighed ‘That has to be the oldest joke in the book.’ Bastien realised he was staring at the older woman, holding his breath. The others looked at him and he snapped out of it, smiling faintly

‘Joke – ah it was a joke – oh actually I’ve not heard that for a long time’ he blurted, affecting a laugh.

‘Probably not since your school days’ Bob remarked ‘Don’t worry son, everyone’s tall to her – she’s such a shortarse’ He patted her shoulder and Bastien blinked at the apparent abusive term, but Edith only rolled her eyes and sighed.

‘Oh Turner’ she said exasperatedly, and looked back to Bastien ‘Well for goodness sake, what does a woman have to do to get a hug?’ she cried, and threw her arms around Bastien. He hugged her back, bending over so that he didn’t pick her off the floor. She drew back and looked at him again.

‘He’s very handsome, dear, you chose wisely’ she said to Sophia, and at last she turned her attention back to her daughter. ‘So, when are we going to the Palace?’ she asked ‘Do we get to meet the King? How well does he know Queen Elizabeth?’ She dropped a curtsy at the name - Sophia laughed and Bastien breathed a sigh of relief that the spotlight was no longer on him.

‘Patience Mum, all in good time. Come on, let’s go to the car’ Bastien took the handle of Edith’s suitcase and lead the way outside to the SUV. Sophia had said that using a limo would be over the top – her mother was so excited about the Palace that it would just be too much for her.

‘Mind if I ride shotgun, son?’ Bob asked ‘The girls can catch up in the back’ Bastien swallowed and forced a smile. It was unnerving that the older man called him ‘son’ just as his former Captain, Jackson Walker had, and he had to make an effort to remind himself that he wasn’t his superior – at least, not in a formal way.

‘Of course, Mr Turner’ The older man frowned slightly

‘Bob please, no need to be so formal, son’ Bastien closed the back after loading the bags. Sophia was already in the back seat making Edith comfortable.

‘I’m sorry Sir – I mean Bob, force of habit with my job’ Bastien replied sheepishly

‘I can understand that, Lykel – or would you prefer your first name?’

‘That’s really up to you, Bob’ he said, forming his lips around the unfamiliar name. ‘Whatever you’re comfortable with.’ He went to open the passenger door and Bob got in with an odd look on his face – scepticism and wariness, Bastien decided. He got in and made sure everyone was belted in before checking the mirrors, indicating and pulling off smoothly. When they had left the airport and were cruising along the main road toward the Palace, Bob patted the dashboard in front of him. He had the impression the older man was watching the way he drove and for the moment he appeared to be comfortable with his proficiency. He felt more at ease driving as it gave him something else to focus on.

‘I’ve never driven one of these beasts’  Bob said ‘What kind of mileage does it do? It can’t be very economical – is it yours?’ Bastien blinked at the barrage of questions.

‘Economy isn’t the most important issue in my line of work’ he explained ‘This is one of the fleet assigned to the Royal Guard. It’s useful because it’s tough and versatile, used for all sorts of jobs including escort duty for the Royal Limousines. Those are specially built, bullet proof and with reinforced chassis to withstand bombs. Most of these vehicles are modified too’ Bob stuck out his bottom lip and nodded sagely.

‘My brother ran a limo business in London’ he said ‘He told me he acquired a car that was used to drive the Prime Minister around – he said it had reinforced steel plating in the chassis like you said.’ He looked off into the distance as they drove ‘I was never sure if he was telling the truth though, he was a bit of a dark horse’ Bastien looked sideways at him, and Bob turned to him again. ‘A vehicle like this isn’t that practical on the island where we live, but some folk have them anyway’ Bastien smiled, making a note to ask Sophia about her Uncle later.

‘I have a Goldwing bike’ he said ‘and King Liam bought me a car in gratitude for my service to the Crown, but I don’t get to drive it much’ Bob looked interested

‘Oh yes – what is it?’

‘Ford Mustang’ Bob’s eyes lit up

‘That’s impressive’ he said ‘Classic or new?’

‘New’ Bastien said ‘I’m sure we can go out for a spin if the weather’s kind to us’

‘Now that I’d enjoy more than staying in a fancy Palace’ he grinned ‘don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful and I know it’s where you live, but I like things plain and simple’ Bastien coughed, embarrassed.

‘I’d really like to move out when the job allows – I’ve brought it up with the King but for now it’s useful for me to be on site. I’ve lived there a long time so it’s a big decision. I can look after myself, but it’s convenient at the Palace – as staff I don’t have to cook or do laundry, and I could have our – uh my… suite cleaned if I wanted’ Despite Sophia being in her late twenties and himself ten years older, he felt self conscious talking about their living arrangements to her father, them not being married – or even engaged.

‘It’s okay son, I know you live together. My girl’s a grown woman and I trust her decisions’ Bob chuckled ‘You don’t have to pussy foot around the issue’

‘Thankyou Sir – I mean Bob…Our suite in the staff wing is quite modern, you won’t be staying in the State rooms, which are quite impressive and ornate. The King was kind enough to extend our living quarters recently, so we have a guest room all set up for you’ They had reached the outskirts of the capital now, and Bastien had to concentrate to negotiate the turns and roundabouts that lead through the middle of the town before they went to the Palace. Bob looked out of the window as the two women continued to chat in the back.

‘I thought you might like to drive through town’ Bastien explained ‘It’s very picturesque, and some time while you’re here we can come in late on to take a look at the Christmas lights’

‘I know Edith would love that’ he replied ‘Though you might have a hard time getting her away from the Palace. She’s hoping for a tour of the entire property if it’s allowed’

‘I’m sure king Liam would be delighted’ he replied ‘He’d most likely conduct it himself’ Edith spoke up from the back, obviously picking up on their conversation after a pause in her own dialogue with her daughter.

‘Did you hear that Sophia?’ she trilled ‘The King himself showing me around – what an honour!’

‘He’s very informal, Mum’ Sophia said ‘I’m sure he’d love to meet you both’

‘Oh well, if he’s not busy – you know, opening Christmas fairs and kissing babies’ Sophia laughed and Bastien couldn’t help but smile.

‘I don’t think the King’s schedule is particularly busy’ he replied. He slowed down ‘We’re almost there Edith, take a look out of your side of the car’ The railings that defined the boundaries of the Palace came into view, and Edith looked out, gasping in admiration at the parkland beyond.

‘How on earth do they keep the grass so tidy?’ she pondered aloud, and in the rear view mirror Bastien saw Sophia’s lips tighten a little.

‘There’s a whole team of gardeners who look after the grounds, Mum’ she said

‘That will be expensive’ Edith remarked ‘Has he thought of having a flock of sheep to graze it?’ He heard Sophia make a soft sound of exasperation, but thankfully Edith fell silent after that. It was a little while before they came to the gates and stopped at the security booth. Parker was on duty and looked in to check that Bastien was at the wheel. A second guard went around the back of the vehicle to open up and check the luggage.

‘Welcome back Sir. I take it this is Mr and Mrs Turner?’ Parker asked with a smile

‘Don’t take it for granted, Parker’ he replied sternly ‘I may be Captain, but you need to double check’

‘Of course Sir, I was about to ask for their ID’ Parker replied, colouring a little ‘If you think it’s necessary’

‘Of course I do, just putting you through your paces’ Edith looked flustered, but Bob reached into his jacket pocket and calmly handed over his and his wife’s passports for the guard to look at. He examined them carefully and handed them back.

‘All seems to be in order, you can go on in’

‘Better safe than sorry, son – you have an important job’ Bob remarked to the guard, and turned back to Bastien ‘I appreciate you not treating us any different from any other first time visitors, Lykel’ he said approvingly ‘I’ve had to deal with Royalty in my time, though not in such a major role as you’ The gates opened, and Bastien eased the car forward along the long sweeping drive toward the Palace.

‘Is that so, Bob?’ he asked, intrigued. Sophia hadn’t talked much about her parents though he knew they were close. It was probably a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’

‘That’s right, the Force has had to organise a few Royal visits over the years’ he replied ‘Edith and myself were invited aboard the Royal Yacht Britannia once – sadly the sea was too rough for the tenders to go out on the day, but it was an honour to be included’

‘Oh yes’ Edith piped up from the back ‘Bob was part of the security detail for the Prince of Wales once – we have a signed photograph of his Highness’ He saw her bob her head a little as she mentioned the British Prince.

‘That’s impressive’ Bastien agreed. He slowed down to give them a good view of the façade of the Palace before continuing around to the side, making for the service entrance and the garages. ‘We can go and take a tour through the main entrance tomorrow, Edith’ he said ‘You must be tired after your journey – we’ll have a little something to eat and you can settle in. We won’t have far to go to our suite from this entrance’ He brought the vehicle to a stop and went round to open the door for Edith. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Drake coming out to the car as Sophia’s mother got out.

‘Sophia!’ Drake called ‘welcome back – are these your parents?’ Edith looked at him, wide eyed and hissed at Sophia

Is this him – do I curtsy?

‘No Mum, this is my friend Drake Walker’ she said ‘I’m sure I’ve told you about him’

‘Oh’ Edith said, deflating slightly ‘Pleased to meet you, Drake’ He leaned in and embraced her briefly before turning to Bob, extending his hand

‘Mr Turner’ he said ‘I hope you enjoy your stay’

‘Thankyou son, it’s a privilege to stay here’ he narrowed his eyes at him ‘You’re not some sort of fancy Duke or Lord are you?’ Drake laughed

‘Lord no, I’m just plain old Drake Walker, just a mister’ he said

‘Drake’s father was head of the Guard before me’ Bastien explained ‘He died in service’ Bob turned back to the younger man

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Walker. Were you tempted to join the guard yourself?’

‘Uh – no Sir’ he said regretfully ‘But Bastien stepped in and helped me and my sister when we lost Dad. I train with him and the Guard, though I’ve never applied to join’ Bob slapped him on the back after an approving look in Bastien’s direction.

‘That’s okay son, it’s a hard thing to do. I’m sure your talents lie elsewhere’ Drake flushed scarlet

‘Um yes, heh – my talents lie elsewhere Sir’ he mumbled ‘Can I take your bags?’ Sophia hid a sly smirk and he winked at her. Edith narrowed her eyes at him, which made him twitch nervously as he reached over to open the back of the SUV for the luggage. He went ahead, and the others followed, Edith keeping up a monologue on everything she saw, admiring or deprecating it as she went. Bob rolled his eyes at Sophia, and Bastien picked up his cane to follow. He had reached his limit after going without it at the airport and he felt a dull ache in his thigh. Bob caught sight of it and raised his eyebrows.

‘Sophia told us you were hurt in an assassination attempt’ he observed as they went inside. Bastien nodded

‘Yes Sir – Bob, my leg troubles me but it’s improving. Sophia takes good care of me’ Bob smiled warmly.

‘From what she tells me it’s a mutual arrangement’ he said ‘I’m glad she’s found someone so protective’ Bastien nodded in answer and had to take up the rear of the group as they ascended the stairs, so it was Sophia who opened the door to let everyone in. Drake deposited the suitcases by the door and left.

Edith swept into the lounge, taking it all in. The table under the window, formerly Bastien’s dining table when it was just his living space, now sported a decorated Christmas tree and there were tasteful tinsel decorations all around the walls, a few Christmas cards displayed on the bookcase and hanging in strings on the wall. The two extra rooms that the remodelling of the suite had given them had been repurposed and the adjoining suite’s bathroom had been split into en suites for their rooms and for Theresa’s on the other side. Bastien’s treadmill and static bike had been put into storage from his makeshift gym in order to make a dining room for the four of them and any other guests they might have. The other room was already a bedroom, but a few pieces of furniture had been added to make things more comfortable for the guests. The lounge still sported a small kitchen area, and Sophia and Bastien’s bedroom and bathroom were accessed from the corridor within the suite, as was his study.

‘It’s a lovely room’ Edith declared ‘and you decorated for Christmas, how wonderful – oh that reminds me’ she rummaged in her bag just as Bastien arrived. Edith pulled a little package wrapped in fabric and ribbon, and handed it to Sophia. Eagerly she took it and opened it carefully. Bastien looked on as she stared at the worn and faded ornament that lay in her hand, her eyes welling up with tears.

‘Oh Mum’ she cried, and threw her arms around her. Bastien cast his eyes toward Bob, who leaned toward him and spoke quietly.

‘It’s the fairy that always goes on top of the tree’ he explained ‘Sophia chose it when she was five. It’s not in the best condition – but Christmas isn’t Christmas without it’ Sophia turned to her father

‘Dad’ she said, her voice catching a little ‘You should put it on top of the tree – just like the first time’ Bob smiled fondly

‘I’m not the man of this house’ he replied and turned to Bastien ‘You do it, son. I’ve only just met you, but Sophia’s obviously made her choice – you should take over the tradition’ Bastien rocked back on his heels and looked to his lover questioningly. She nodded, tears still glistening in her eyes.

‘Please, Bas’ she said quietly ‘Will you?’ He stepped forward and stood in front of her as she held the delicate scrap of wood and fabric and wire out to him. She looked up and he took it from her gently, cradling it gently in his hands and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. He was aware of Edith looking on with a smile, and Bob moved across the room to put his arm around his wife and squeeze her firmly. He felt a warmth that he had never felt before – of acceptance and affection and love radiating from Sophia and her parents. He swallowed and at last found his voice.

‘I’d be honoured’ he said softly. ‘Thankyou for asking me’

#bastien lykel #trr bastien #sophia x bastien #OC x Bastien #pure fluff #trr au fanfic

[macgyvergirluk]

macs big birthday

i done this for lucas birthday on monday but as its my own birthday on sunday im not going to have time to shear this on time so thought id put it up earlie.  hope you have a wounderful 30th birthday monday :)

Jack has a plan, it’s not every day you turn thirty and Jack is going to make sure Mac has the best thirtieth birthday ever. Jack knows that once Mac’s father had left on his tenth birthday. Mac hasn’t cared much for birthdays ever since. Until he met Jack. Jack got kind of upset when he found out by accident that Mac was having his twenty first birthday in the sand box, so he grabbed a few fellow soldiers and they had a little party of their own for him. And even though it wasn’t much Jack had to give to Mac. He gave him his first taste of alcohol, and it was not the good stuff. Ever since then Jack had tried to make the day special for Mac.

But this one has to be extra special it is the big three zero. But he had promised Mac no fuss or big parties as Mac hated to be fussed over and Jack want this to be the best birthday Mac has ever had and the most memorable.

Jack has spent months planning Mac’s birthday and checked in with Matty that it was ok for him and Mac to have that weekend off. Also the Friday and Monday to make it an extra-long weekend. Matty had given it the go ahead and even planned to give Mac a lot of lab work that week so Mac and jack wouldn’t end up getting injured. Jack had sorted it with Riley to track them and where they were going so if she saw any suspicious activity to warn them and then send someone in to sort it before it got to Jack and Mac as Jack actually wanted to enjoy this vacation as much as he wanted Mac to. And that meant not getting kidnapped or shot at.

As the time grew closer Mac was getting suspicious of all the secrecy around him and was worried that Jack may have gone over the top for his birthday. Not that Mac didn’t appreciate Jack's efforts but he just liked have a couple of quiet beers with friends, no mad parties. But he knows Jack loves an excuse to throw a party from time to time.

So Mac is quiet surprised when Jack tells Mac to pack his hiking gear and anything he would need for a few days away fishing. He is even more surprised that Bozer wasn’t packing and says he’ll see him in a few days and to enjoy his trip. Once Mac’s jeep is all packed up, he and jack set off early Friday morning. Jack jumps in the driver’s seat, Mac in the passenger’s and they set off.

‘You excited, hoss. Just us and the wilderness.’

‘Yeah I was surprised when you told me what you had planned.’ Mac smiles.

‘Well, it’s your big three zero, you got to enjoy it, man.’

Three hours later Jack pulled up in front of a lovely log cabin situated next to a large lake.

‘Let’s get the stuff inside, then hit the lake. I fancy fish for dinner.’ Jack says.

‘And what if we don’t catch any?’

‘Then you’re gonna be out there a long time, hoss, cause we got nothing else.’ Jack jokes.

An hour later once they have settled in to the cabin, Mac and Jack are out on the lake, rods out in the water relaxing and sipping a beer.

‘Now this is the life.’ smiles Jack.

‘Who new turning thirty could be so peaceful?’

‘You won’t be saying that when we’re back at work.’

‘Right now I’m not even thinking about that.’

It takes them two hours to get a bite and by that time jack has nearly given up until Mac’s rod starts to move and he catches the world’s smallest fish.

‘Just put it back that won’t even scratch the sides. [AM1] I suggest we go and cook those steaks I brought just in case.’

‘Sounds good.’

Mac loves sitting outside cooking on the campfire and listening to Jack ramble on about his dad, who would bring him to places like this as a kid. Mac is grateful he has Jack in his life.

The following day they go for a hike through the woods and find a waterfall. Mac can’t think of any place he’d rather be right now.

Jack was so glad he has tired Mac out today, hopefully the kid wouldn’t wake up too early for the surprise tomorrow. Being a secret agent has its draw backs when you want to sneak around.

For extra measure Jack may have slipped a little bit of a sleeping tablet in to Mac’s hot chocolate as he knew Mac hates any type of drugs. But Jack wants to make Mac’s thirtieth birthday special.

The following morning Jack makes sure the blond was sound asleep which he was and he quietly lets Bozer, Matty and Riley in to the cabin to start preparations. While Bozer starts on his famous pancakes, Jack and Riley start to put up decorations while Matty sets up all the cards and presents on the coffee table.

It isn´t till nine am that a disheveled Mac walks out the bedroom, hair a mess, half asleep. He has woken to a surprise smell of pancakes not just any old pancakes but the ones he only associates with Bozer.

He nearly jumps a foot in the air when Jack, Matty, Riley and Bozer jump out from behind the sofa yelling happy birthday.

‘Before you say anything about no parties, this is not a party, this is your family wanting to spend time with you on your big day.’ Jack explains, leading Mac over to a seat in the living area where Bozer hands him a plate with pancakes.

‘Thanks Boz.’

Mac looks at them all, as they all dig in to their food. He can’t believe they have driven all this way just for him on their day off. They could have been in bed still relaxing.

‘Thanks for coming, you really didn’t have to.’ Mac says.

‘It’s not every day my man turns thirty.’ says Boz.

Once breakfast is eaten, Riley announces, it’s time for presents and excitingly hands Mac her gift, a blue envelope, inside is a message saying he was going to be spending 2 days with NASA engineers behind the scenes.

Mac looks at Riley in disbelieve.

‘How…?’

‘I think you mean thanks and that’s for me to know and you not to know.’ she smiles.

‘Thanks Riles.’

‘Me next, me next.’ Bozer chants, handing Mac his present.

Mac laughs when he opens it, it’s a book called cookbook for scientists.

‘You do know that probably won’t help his cooking.’ Jack says, ‘may help him blow it up more.’

‘I hope not.’ Bozer answers, now worried about his gift while the others laugh.

‘Now blondie, I’m not one for getting all sentimental on you but as it is your thirtieth happy birthday.’ Matty hands him a large box. Mac doesn’t know what to say as he opens it and pulls out thirty boxes of paper clips and thirty rolls of duct tape.

‘You can never have to many.’ she smiles. Mac puts the box down and gives Matty a big hug.

‘Now my turn, I bet you can’t wait to see what I got you hoss.’ Jack goes over to the cupboard and comes back, handing Mac an odd shape parcel. It’s a bear holding the number thirty. Mac looks at it as he was not expecting that from Jack. Jack is known for his randomness but normally it’s something Mac can use or they can do together but a bear…

‘You like it?’ Jack asks.

‘Yeah.. its.. great.’ Mac smiles. He knows big birthdays mean a lot and maybe as this bear has thirty on it it’s to remind him of his time here. And mac shouldn’t be ungrateful, he isn’t, he’s just surprised. It isn’t till he goes to put the bear on the table that he notices a string round the bear’s neck and that string led to a bag behind the number thirty. Mac takes the bag from the bear and opens it and inside is a set of keys. A set of keys he recognized. They are the keys to the Mustang he and jack had spent the last year doing up together, after jack had bought it as a random buy.

He looks at Jack stunned, then back at the keys.

‘Happy birthday, hoss, she is all yours. You need a great set of wheels for when you find a lady friend one day instead of that jeep of yours. I know she doesn´t beat my GTO, but…’

‘Jack, it’s perfect, thank you.’ Mac says trying to hold back his emotions on such a gift. He pulls Jack in a hug which Jack returns not wanting to let go of his boy. Mac may not have a dad to share in these moments and make these moments special, but Jack is sure going to make up for that loss.

The rest of the day is spend swimming in the lake playing random outdoor games followed by a lovely birthday meal prepared by Bozer with a massive number thirty cake, made to look like it had been made out of paper clips.

Mac can’t be happier as he blows out his candles. This has been his best birthday yet. And he got to spend it with the people he loved.

‘Right, some of us have to work tomorrow blondie, so we got to love you and leave you and we’ll see you both bright eyed and bushy tailed on Tuesday.’ Matty announces as they prepare to leave.

‘Absolutely Matty.’ Mac smiles.

As Mac shuts the door after their goodbyes and settles down with a cold bear with Jack, he feels that no other birthday will ever come close to this one.

‘Thanks Jack.’

‘For what?’

‘You know.’

Jack just smiles.

#MacGyver #jack dalton #lucas till

[bunnythechopper]

Lust and Havoc Share A Body AU

Howdy! Me and one of my best friends started this off of a joke and then I fell into the rabbit hole and wound up making it a full fledged AU

The basic summary here is that after Lust’s death, Father puts her into Havoc’s body and they end up stuck together similarly to Greed and Ling. Lust’s characterization is also a mix between brotherhood and 03 (because duh yknow?) Also I have a few joke-y interactions as well that I wanna draw for this AU, but we’ll see! If I have the time I definitely will

I’ll also be splitting the post into parts here to make it easier to navigate through

The Beginning/The How:

Jean Havoc is a stubborn, skilled, strong-willed, soldier who Lust has spent months getting to know under the guise of being “Solaris” and whether she’d ever admit it or not, part of her is actually attached to him by the time she confronts Roy & Jean under Central

At some point, she’s convinced herself that he could be a potential valuable asset and useful to the grand plan in some way

Lust gets Havoc’s body to Father’s base of operations at some point inbetween Roy & Jean’s fight and the fight with Riza, Barry, and Alphonse. 

Admittedly details on this part are a little hazy, since the entrance way to Father’s base is behind Riza and the group, but I’m fairly certain there’s gotta be other like side entrances and stuff like how Bido comes across Greed and such.

And I figured maybe she recruited another homunculi to help her move the body like maybe Pride yknow since Lust is one of the higher ranking homunculi

When Father is brought Havoc’s unconscious, bleeding body, he’s kind of just like “What the fuck is this?” like Lust is a cat who brought him a dead rat as a gift. But Lust has never really given him reason not to trust her, so he figures he might as well wait until she gets back and hear her out on why the hell she brought him the body of a dying human before he inevitably destroys Havoc

Only Lust is killed by Roy and doesn’t come back and now Father just has some idiot soldier in his base of operations

Father recognizes Havoc as one of Roy’s unit, and figures “Well, we have this guy, might as well try and get some use out of him before he dies” and inserts a Philosopher’s Stone made from Lust into Havoc’s wounds

Havoc & Lust Reunite:

Havoc is too stubborn to relinquish control of his body so Lust frankly doesn’t get to just take over, but Havoc’s also too stubborn to die, so Lust still has a chance

Despite this, Havoc expresses to New Lust that he’s willing to let her borrow his body as long as it isn’t forever

He takes it as a chance to talk to her about the whole homunculi thing and also whether or not she was ever actually serious about their relationship. Not to mention he could probably gather some intel for Roy about the homunculi and Hughes’ death and stuff!

The entire conversation, Havoc is calling Lust “Solaris”

Lust is just like “Who the fuck is Solaris? Who the fuck are you? What are you talking about? This is my body now, thanks, please go away”

Ultimately though, Lust knows how unlikely it is she’ll get another chance to come back without Havoc, she’s useful to Father but not necessary. So she reluctantly agrees and agrees to share the body, but she intends to eventually completely take over

Father has Lust go undercover eventually to help prevent Roy’s team from continuing to get in the way of their plans

Lust isn’t too happy about having to pretend to be Havoc and paralyzed but she’s not going to disregard her orders

Havoc makes a good point (much to Lust’s surprise) that he can just front when they have to talk to anyone who knows him and Lust really hates to admit that it’s definitely smarter than having her take his place sometimes

Miscellaneous:

Havoc spends a lot of his time when he’s not in control talking to Lust, or trying to

He never calls he Lust, he completely insists on referring to her as Solaris

And most of his topics is just him going over dumb stories from hanging out with Team Mustang or from growing up or what random trivia he seems to know about things

He does however try talking to her about their dates a lot

Lust hates to admit it when her memories start coming back

She tries not to talk about it like Jean can’t see the memories himself when she gets them, she’d rather pretend she doesn’t remember him or their time together or anything that led to her actively choosing to save his life that night

Jean doesn’t confront her about it really, but he’s going to get answers out of her eventually

He never asks why she saved him, but he thinks he knows. He knows that she’s not as much as a monster as she’s been acting since they merged, he knows that somewhere in her she actually cares and she doesn’t hate humans as much as she says

He makes a lot of jokes as well of course, mostly bad puns or cheesy pickup lines. He claims it’s just his way of keeping himself from dying of boredom, but eventually Lust can’t help it and she laughs and he knows he’s broken through to her, even just a little crack

Havoc has no sense of style and Lust is not about to stand for that, when he’s released from the hospital and they’re living in his hometown, one of the first things she does it make him clean out all of his wardrobe and go buy new clothes

Lust pretends to turn a blind-eye to Havoc passing notes to Team Mustang and helping them

She can’t have failed to stop them if she never noticed

Jean pretends not to notice, but he’s not stupid, he knows damn well that she could stop him and ruin the communications if she wanted

Havoc’s also got a surprisingly tight knit family and Lust really doesn’t know how to handle that obstacle

The closest to a sense of family she’s ever had was Gluttony and maybe Envy, neither of which really prepared her for being involved with a real human family

She draws similarities between Gluttony and the Havoc family dog though, the comparison makes both herself and Jean laugh

Jean chalks that up to another breakthrough

He tries to use the window to get Lust to open up and talk about the other homunculi

Surprisingly she does, though it’s mostly just stories about Gluttony, she wonders idly about how he’s doing and whether he knows she’s back or not

Jean feels bad momentarily for planning to use what Lust told him about the other homunculi against them, but he tells himself that if Lust can be redeemed, then there’s no reason that they need to kill the others either

He doesn’t want to be responsible for killing Lust’s family

Spending so much time with humans, in a human body, and with Jean sharing space in her head, Lust is forced to reevaluate how she views humans

She still thinks they’re foolish and reckless, but she’s begun to admire them. It starts just as admiration for sticking to their principals and willingness to fight to the end if they thought it was worth it (even if she didn’t understand that or agree.)

But as time goes on, she finds it harder to hate them, whereas her entire purpose to being has been to serve Father and help him achieve his master plan, humans don’t have any one singular purpose, they do whatever they want for however they want, and even the ones who are supposed to follow orders, go out of their way not to if circumstances call for it to them

She unintentionally wakes Jean up one night in the middle of the night when she’s having a bit of a crisis when she realizes that helping Father might not be in her best interests

Without thinking she apologizes for waking him (woo more cracks) but he shrugs it off

Jean stays up with her, mostly just listening to her list off all of her thoughts and realizations and whatever else information she deems is relevant

She admits to being conflicted on whether to continue how she’s always gone, helping Father, or to turn around and do “something drastic” that he wouldn’t approve of

Jean’s just like “Listen, do whatever makes you happy, fuck your dad if he has a problem with it, yunno? It’s your life, not his”

Lust doesn’t mention how she’s literally part of Father and in turn doesn’t especially believe in the last bit of Jean’s advice

However the first bit sticks with her, do what makes her happy

A few days after their chat in the middle of the night, Lust tells Jean they need to see Mustang, that specifically she needs to talk to him

Jean’s a little unsure, but he decides to trust her. If he wants to prove to her that humans aren’t all bad and that she’s not all bad, then he needs to trust her

It’s a hassle and a half but eventually they find a chance to meet with Havoc privately, under the guise of making deliveries from his family store

Needless to say, Roy kind of freaks out when he learns that Lust, the homunculus he burned to death with a gash in his side has been living alongside one of his best friends for months

He’s incredibly reluctant to listen to what she says, but complies when Havoc insists he at least try to. It’s not like he has to use the information she gives him after all

Most of what Lust tells him is just the strengths and weaknesses of the other homunculi, which frankly most of that knowledge does little to help him, but it’s good information regardless

She also refuses to go into detail, but she tries to stress to Roy how important it is to stop Father before “the promised day” and how she’s not sure of the details of his plan, but that Roy is an important target and that the entire country is at risk from the plan

Roy takes it all with a grain of salt, but he thanks her for her help anyways, he asks why she’s suddenly “helping” them but she refuses to answer him, dodging the question and claiming that stopping Father helps her just as much as it helps him

Jean thinks he’s being slick and asks Roy to try not to completely up and off the other homunculi, more specifically Gluttony

Roy doesn’t tell him that he has no intention on sparing them if he’s faced against them, he just nods

After everything settles, since Havoc wasn’t in present in the battle itself on the promised day (and because I refuse to kill Lust I’m sorry I just cannot do it I refuse to make an entire AU only to kill her off in the end,) Lust winds up surviving, much to her shock

They go with Alphonse, Zampano, and Jerso to Xing and wherever else they travel to try and find a way to allow Lust to live outside of Havoc and have her own body again finally

For simplicity’s sake, Havoc and Lust finally get a singular name, courtesy of Zampano and Jerso; Larivoc (from Solaris, which is the name Lust was introduced from and has taken to using more than Lust after everything, and Havoc)

Lust admittedly thinks it’s a pointless endeavor, since they’re still 2 different people, but Jean appreciates the effort to give them a name and make it easier on the others

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #jean havoc #lust the lascivious #roy mustang #I know I didn't touche a lot on the other relationships involved #BUT LISTEN #there's not A LOT to say past everyone either being like #'bro what the fuck this is weird' and 'bro what the FUCK this is a bad idea' #let me tell you a little story #larivoc

[recentanimenews]

Fullmetal Alchemist Commits Where Other Manga Don't

Warning: this piece will have HUGE spoilers for the ending of Fullmetal Alchemist! If you have not yet read this popular series, be warned.

Fullmetal Alchemist was my introduction to Japanese comics, and I adored it. I loved its gothic sensibilities — the reanimated dead, mad science, and bonds forged through guilt. I wanted to be like Edward Elric, though in retrospect Alphonse was the best. As the series continued, though, what most overwhelmed me was its sense of scale. If the 2003 anime kept its focus on the Elric family and its hangers-on, the manga expands to a ludicrous conspiracy plot covering centuries of history and countless casualties. The villain’s ultimate weapon isn’t just alchemy, but something worse — Amestris, Ed, and Al's home country.

  I’ve kept Fullmetal Alchemist close to my heart as the years have gone by, even as I’ve come to love other manga and anime just as much if not more. But it’s only in the past few years that I’ve started thinking in earnest, as an adult, about what the series was really about. Fullmetal Alchemist sticks to the well-worn themes of friendship, struggle, and victory. Edward and Alphonse overcome their difficult background to excel at their chosen hobby and become the best in the world, like other shounen heroes did before them and others would afterward. If it’s in a darker tonal register than some other Shounen Jump titles (wait a minute, Ed’s rival is an older man and a war criminal??) the difference is made up by bad jokes about Ed’s height. But Fullmetal Alchemist isn’t just a story about training with your friends to become the greatest. It’s also about overthrowing the state, and that’s where the story starts cooking for me.

Image via VIZ

  There are plenty of shounen comics and anime that play with anti-authoritarianism. Japanese media is awash with absent or disappointing fathers, arrogant superiors, and unfair systems. Naruto and his friends grapple with abandonment and familial betrayal. The hero society of My Hero Academia has its share of overbearing parents, and even well-intentioned teachers like All Might are made to face up to past mistakes. Ushio's dad is annoying.

But the arc of shounen comics bends toward the status quo. Naruto and Sasuke come to realize that their families loved them after all, or at least had good intentions behind their cruelty. All Might is unquestionably a good guy, and even antagonists like Endeavor are given a second chance. Ushio’s dad’s incompetence was an act put on to protect his son. And so on. Of course, in our world, many kids go through a phase where they dislike their parents or try to run away from home. As time goes by they realize their parents’ point of view, and come to understand them a little more. But some parents are abusive, and some systems are irredeemably cruel. Outside of One Piece (where each arc climaxes with Luffy punching the villain through larger and larger government buildings) the benevolence of authority is often taken for granted in shounen comics. Any harm inflicted is not the norm, but an unfortunate mistake.

  By contrast, as Fullmetal Alchemist continues it becomes clear that there is nothing normal about Amestris. It’s a state devoted to wiping out surrounding nations so that its secret ruler can bargain away the lives of its people in exchange for godhood. We come to love many of those people, but the state itself has no other function. Its alchemy magic, useful in a pinch, is fully in the hands of the country’s rulers. The philosopher's stones that fuel the greatest acts of alchemy are powered by human lives. Amestris is death. It is a country that has committed genocide. It cannot be redeemed. It must be destroyed.

Image via VIZ

  Fullmetal Alchemist is a story about overthrowing Amestris. Edward and Alphonse come to realize, along with their friends, that it is the responsibility of those born within the country’s borders to destroy it. Roy Mustang and his compatriots, who have killed many people in the service of their country, decide that the only moral thing to do is to lead a revolt against their boss. Hohenheim — Ed and Al’s absentee father — abandons his family because he realizes that the only way to liberate Amestris from its master’s control is to find a different set of tools. Through their collective efforts, they end the reign of a government whose reason for being is endless conquest and torture.

  Of course, Fullmetal Alchemist is a story for children. You cannot undo years of imperialism by punching an ancient artificial demigod in the face. You cannot substitute a cruel ruler for a just one, keep the engine of the state intact and expect that a country will magically redeem itself in the eyes of its neighbors. Fullmetal Alchemist does not attempt to grapple with the question of whether its heroes, who despite their past sins are seen in the present-day as fundamentally good,  have been fatally compromised by their time working the gears of a death state. No, at the end of the series Roy becomes Fuhrer and everything is fine. Amestris is not rebuilt, but reformed. Today in 2020, knowing what I do now, I do not think that is enough.

  Still, Fullmetal Alchemist is a story for children, and that is why it is useful. It set me on the road to Revolutionary Girl Utena and its fairy tale world of cruelty. Fullmetal Alchemist taught me not to take the words of adults for granted. In today’s world, where we are more aware than ever of our responsibility to others, I am reminded of Jason Thompson's old review of Fullmetal Alchemist, written as part of his House of "1000 Manga" columns on Anime News Network. That both Amestris and America begin with the letter A.

  What do you think of Fullmetal Alchemist? Did you grow up with the manga and the 2003 anime, like I did, or the Brotherhood remake some years later? Is "Again" a better or worse song than "Rewrite?" Let us know in the comments!

Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he isn't rereading Hiromu Arakawa's omake comics at the end of each Fullmetal Alchemist volume, he sporadically contributes with a loose coalition of friends to a blog called Isn't It Electrifying? You can follow him on Twitter at: @wendeego 

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

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