#and I didn’t wanna waste time and tabs on a book I wasn’t sure if I was gonna want to go back and read again

[minimoefoe]

thoughts while/after reading a court of thorns and roses for the first time

what I knew going in

enemies to lovers maybe?

she gets with tamlin I think

girl kills a wolf and gets taken away

faerie porn

some of these things I noted down in the form of a twt thread as I was reading and some of it is just off the top of my head the morning after finishing the book. for the next book i think imma make more notes in my phone of my thoughts as I read but we’ll see, I usually forget or cba bc I’m too interested in what’s happening lmao

I was worried about it being in first person bc that isn’t my usual vibe but i kinda didn’t end up giving a fuck which is great for me

for a minute every time feyre’s name was mentioned I took a second to pronounce it properly in my head which is kinda embarrassing

I was kinda bracing myself to have to read a ton of smut but there wasn’t much in it which I’m happy about. I fear there will be more in later books tho and like, that is not my fave like smut is just so cringe to me most of the time but it was defo better written than like 85% of the fanfic smut I’ve read in my life tho so at least there’s that. and I can deal with some smut for a good story

when feyre got taken and was seemingly living in a massive house with two hot guys i was like oh i feel like I know where this is going (and braced for the book to become smut central) but that didn’t happen lmao

by chapter 6 I was like lucien > tamlin and i felt that way for the entire book. lucien is like kinda sarcastic and twatty which I loved and it made sense bc he obviously didn’t like feyre and just had to put up with her but even later in the book when all the info is out there he’s still just cooler somehow idk. tamlin is nice enough but he’s kinda boring to me

at one point tamlin said to feyre ‘do you have some sort of problem with me’ and i was like bro 😭 what a wild question to ask a girl you’ve just stolen from her home and forced to live with you are you dumb

tamlin (i think) also said ‘you can’t write yet you learned how to hunt- how?’ and i was like um what is the correlation you don’t need to write to learn how to hunt is this man stupid

I kept forgetting they were wearing masks so the first couple times it was randomly mentioned it was a bit of a jumpscare and made me laugh

the word ‘mate/mating’ was also a jumpscare the first couple of times

I sooo knew that thing was gonna be some weird sex festival and also the idea of two ppl shagging literally causing magic to ‘ripple outward’ to the point that ppl probably a decent distance away can feel it happen and know what caused it is so funny 😭 like how am I supposed to take that seriously

somewhere in there i was becoming desperate to look through the acotar tag or just do Something to quench my need to consume more to do with this series so i started looking up acotar reading threads on twitter in the hopes I wouldn’t get spoiled bc i just wouldn’t read the threads past where I was in the book but I ended up coming across two separate posts (that I don’t even really remember the details of) that seemed to like rhysand and where I was in the book he’d literally just shown up to the house and they called him a whore and stuff so I was like hm interesting that ppl like him bc he seems like a twat. made me intrigued for sure but also was sad to be mildly spoiled bc it just made me start anticipating some rhys redemption or just some kind of focus that I tbh hadn’t even considered at that point

but anyways rhysand > lucien > tamlin

I liked nestas little redemption. I’m glad we didn’t spend too long back with the family tho

the second there was a mention of a curse I was like uh oh I feel like her not saying I love you back to tamlin has caused some kind of problem. me when I’m a genius / me when this book is predictable. either way I liked it, it’s giving beauty and the beast

my initial guesses for the riddle after reading it twice were - love, a heart or god

the tasks were giving goblet of fire for a minute there

rhysand mentioned he could turn into a bird and five seconds later I realised the second book has a bird on the cover so I’m hoping I’ve connect some dots there bc I’m very interested to know more about him fr

why do I have like a mild want/hope that feyre is gonna leave tamlin for rhysand like… that’s kinda the dream. it might be to do with when I searched and saw mild spoilers bc there was art of a guy and a girl that I looked at for half a second and thinking about it now I’m like was that rhysand and feyre in the first book? was it them later down the line? was it rhysand and someone else? idfk. rhys defo has like mild unsettling vibes so idk if that’s a thing that could happen but maybe now that everyone is free he’ll start being less gross

I was worried the whole book was gonna be them at the mansion so feyre going home for a bit and then the back end of the book being set somewhere completely different was pretty cool, I think I liked the last section of the book more than the first, likely bc of rhys, the lucien pop ins and the fact tamlin had to keep his distance 😭 that sounds mean I swear i do like him and them as a duo I just find the others more interesting

every mention of things like claws coming out of knuckles or whatever is baffling to me, I cannot picture it in my mind at all it

feyre becoming one of them is pretty cool

rhysand is SO interesting like omg tell me your secrets. when he first started helping feyre I was like hm maybe he’s like not happy to be amarantha’s whore and he’s gonna be in their side and that’s kinda what happened but also he’s not like fully a nice guy idk UGH please let book two be focused on him a lot I need it so bad

I honestly just had a fun time reading this and spare for all these names and lore that I still defo do not have a full grasp on it was just an easy read idk, I enjoyed it. at points I was like oh this feels very fanfic-y which for me could be a good thing or could be a bad thing but this kind toed the line and I was like idk I mean it in a good way or a bad way. in the end imma say a good way bc I did give it 4.5 stars so 😭

uodate: been a few hours and I've watched cari can read's vid going through this book bc idk I felt like it and also wanted to make sure I understood everything and I have a couple more notes

I forgot about that ending rhysand moment like.. what's going on there

I didn't really even bat an eye at how rhysand was drugging feyre every night basically like obviously I'm not dumb, it was fucked up, but it apparently being a big subject among fans didn't even cross my mind as being a thing. like, the yeah the way feyre rationalises it as 'well at least time is moving quickly and I'm not remembering what I'm doing' and rhysand I guess also is like 'hopefully tamlin will be greatful that 1. I haven't touched her really and 2. I'm helping her forget and get through it is' messed up but like, that's *their* povs, I don't think the book is tryna say that's actually a good situation or a correct/healthy way to look at things. idk why it's drama worthy. maybe it's worded questionably in the book idr. I'll pay attention if/when I reread I guess

speaking of bat(ting eyes)... rhysand isn't a bird he's a bat? 😭 so the cover of the next book defo isn't him rip my dreams. I assume he'll be around tho like, he'll have to be

I could've sworn that rhys said the paint wouldn't get messed up from him touching her which would make a couple of moments not make any sense but maybe I'm just dumb and misremembered

I actually LOVE how a lot of this book is just pure vibes like feyre's time at the mansion or whatever where most of the time nothing too crazy was happening spare for the odd moment is my kinda vibe. and then even in the back half of the book when all this shit is going on there still a lot of sitting around in her cell and her chatting (mainly with rhys) idk, I like it a lot

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #reading thoughts #- new tag for these kinds of posts who cheered #I think my plan now that I’m in my reading era fr #is that when I first read a book I’m gonna note down thoughts and make a post like this #and then if it ends up being a book/series that I love and I decide I want to read it again and annotate it #I will use my posts as a guide when I’m reading through to note down things I noticed on my first read #as well as obviously annotating whatever new stuff I notice/decide I wanna keep track off #bc I realised going into this book that I just didn’t really know how to annotate it when I didn’t know what I was expecting #and I didn’t wanna waste time and tabs on a book I wasn’t sure if I was gonna want to go back and read again #idk #if that makes sense or if anyone cares but anyways #that’s my plan #first read - make notes #second etc read - tabs and annotating and adding in my thoughts from my first read #idk when my second read will even be but we’ll see I guess #I haven’t actually done any annotating for any book yet #I have some series that I love and want to reread so they’ll probably be the first books I try and annotate fr #but for now I’ve got this series to finish #and idk what imma read next #I wanna annotate the raven cycle tho fr #and maybe Harry potte #and also morganville vampires but I just finished that reread so that’s gonna wait a bit #this series has annotation reread potential For Sure depending on how these next books go

[inkrabbit]

A Day at the Beach - Dan x Richard

I don't wanna talk about this. It's currently 3:20am and I was talking about this pairing in my little group chat. It's shit, because it wasn't planned at all and I'm tired, but here we are. Y'all aren't getting a summary, either.

Word count: 3,034

Mersea Island, Essex

It had been a long time coming, operatives saying how they wanted to go an actual beach and maybe spend the night. Anything to get away from the chaos in London, saying they all needed a vacation of some sort. Of course there were some operatives who were reluctant to agree to the idea, saying they didn't feel comfortable leaving when there was still so much to do, but they finally came around when harassed enough, agreeing to spending one night before they had to come back home.

So here Richard sat in the back seat of the car Lorcan had “borrowed”, music blaring and the man spouting outrageous tales. He see Dan in the passenger seat, a smile on his face as he shakes his head. He's entertaining his friend's stories, and also glancing down at his phone to make sure they're still on the right track to the beach.

“She fuckin' made boxty and then threw it at me!” The time Richard tunes in, he's completely lost, brows furrowing as he catches the end of the statement. Boxty? He catches Dan laughing, and he can even see Jeremy's lips curl into a smile, the younger man having been seated on the other side of the car.

“Did you still eat it?” Eat it? He wondered what kind of food it was. Maybe it was just an Irish thing?

“Of course I ate it! Not gonna let that go to waste!” He knew this was going to be an adventure in itself. He had seen Lorcan's energy in the safehouse more times than he could count, the man always pestering someone and trying to find a drinking buddy.

He could never really forget the first time the older man had approached him, a friendly smile on his face as he started a conversation. Nothing too big, just asking how he was settling in with the group and if he had any problems. Even if Richard had any sort of bad blood with the other operatives, he wouldn't make it known. But when the Irishman had offered him to go drinking, he nearly choked on his coffee. It had been so long since someone had left him speechless, and his hesitation was enough for Dan to walk over and shoo his friend away. He told Richard to ignore him, that Lorcan's innocent little invitation was more trouble than it was worth considering the man would get lost easily when drunk and wander off like a child. Richard would never admit it, but a small part of him actually liked the idea of spending time with DedSec.

Maybe that's why he was here now, stuck in a car with the group's trio and headed for the beach. Back then, he would've cringed at the thought of being seen with any of the operatives, but now? Well, it wasn't so bad. He supposed they grew on him, their friendly banter and family-like connection. Did he long for that normal lifestyle? Where he had people he felt like he could finally confide in and converse with? Or perhaps he just his old life before Zero-Day and DedSec came into the picture, working his job at SIRS and indulging in the odd party Emma Child threw, though it was normally all business. Emma... He had tried to forget her name and her existence, a pang of guilt always cementing itself in the pit of his stomach. Back then, he believed what he was doing was right, and to this day he still did. But did he have to go that far?

The rest of the drive to the beach is filled with stories from the other men. Lorcan tries asking Richard for some stories of his own, but he declines. What would he tell them, anyway? His mind drew a blank when the request left the man's lips anyway. He tries to listen to the chatter now, wanting something else to focus on while they got closer to their destination. Lorcan spoke of mischief he got into when he was younger, and Dan shares his own story of being picked up by the police trying to hotwire a car. He notices how Jeremy stays quiet, and when one of the men ask him why, he simply tells them. “Didn't have the happiest childhood. I stayed alone.” Fair enough. Richard found himself actually understanding. After his father's passing, he threw any sort of social life out the window and locked himself in his room.

When the car finally stops, the sun is high in the sky and Richard is stretching his limbs, feeling his joints pop. It felt good to stretch, and the cool breeze coming from the ocean was heavenly. It had been so long since he had been here. The last time he had gone to a beach was with coworkers who had suckered him in to tagging along. It was funny how history repeats itself, but could he even call DedSec his coworkers? He supposed so, he did work alongside them ever since they had released him from that makeshift cell. Seeing everyone exit the cars, bringing out coolers and everything else is a pleasant sight. It's almost surreal. After everything that's happened, the group finally looks... normal.

He follows them to down to the sand, everyone picking out a spot and laying down their towels. Franklin had been nice enough to set Richard up with his own little spot, just a bit away from everyone else. He appreciated it. The group had made him a tiny bit nervous, still worried they would eventually snap and lash out at him. He takes a seat on the towel, legs crossed as he watches the others. Some are starting up a game of volleyball, while others are making their way into the water. He notices some of the operatives stay behind. He can see Franklin and Edmund chatting away, occasionally sharing a small kiss or nuzzling the other's cheek. It wasn't often he saw people so affectionate with one another, especially in the group.

A little farther away, however, he can see Dan sitting on a towel, legs crossed and hunched over a book. It's a surprise, to say the least. The once cheerful face is replaced with nothing, the stoic expression seeming so foreign. Glancing back at the ocean, he can see Lorcan picking up Jeremy and tossing him back into the water. He assumed Dan would've joined them, or at the very least, Jeremy would've been the one sitting out.

He spends the day relaxing, finally laying down on the towel and basking in the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze occasionally sending a shiver up his spine. He wonders what the little beach cottages will look like inside. He knew some operatives had grouped together to save money. He wasn't exactly sure who he would be staying with, having stayed out of the conversation and assuming he wouldn't even accompany the group at all. Maybe he would ask when time drew near?

Some operatives had come up to check on him, and Rebecca had even invited him to play volleyball with them. It was sweet that they tried to include him, but he declined. He still felt awkward partaking in activities with them, weary tension thick around the group (or was that all just in his mind?). He still watches them, however, taking this time to get to know their quirks. The way they move, how they each have a unique look while concentrating. It was amazing how they all seemed more open when they weren't cramped in the safehouse.

As the sun slowly starts going down, he agrees to help Dan make a bonfire. He had collected the stones, forming a decently large circle and using the wood brought back. Lorcan had become antsy, pouring some whiskey onto the wood and using his lighter to start the fire. It wasn't something Richard would do in a thousand years, but it had worked and warm air made him feel better. He sits in the sand with his legs propped up, elbows resting on his knees as he takes in the soft chatter of the group. They're all telling stories, ranging from jobs they've done to crazy antics they've gotten up to in the past. Franklin tells them some tales from Albion, while Edmund settles on a fight he had somehow won after taking to tabs of acid. Richard zones out here and there, focused on the fire and crackling wood. He almost doesn't realize how long they've been sitting there until a chill runs up his spine and a few operatives are saying goodnight. He joins in in wishing them farewell, and finally pays attention to the rest of the stories told.

One by one, the group around the bonfire slowly dwindles as people retire for the night. By the time the moon's high in the sky and the air's becoming more chilly, Richard is only left with the Irishmen. He had seen Jeremy's head droop here and there, eyes lidded as he listened to Lorcan's drunken rambling. It's not long until the younger man is finally standing up, stretching his limbs and saying goodnight to the three. Lorcan follows right after, whining about how he didn't want to be locked out for the night. He assumed the two were sharing the same cottage.

His eyes flicker to Dan. He hadn't been as talkative as he was in the car, staring into the fire and only occasionally joining in the conversation. The silence is almost deafening between them. For some reason, it felt odd. Had he gotten used to the chatter of the group?

“What were you reading?” Richard finally asks, catching the man's attention. He looks at him, just for a bit, until he raises the book and shows him the cover. The Ghost Map. Ah, some London history. He smiles at it. “Didn't know you read.”

“Little hobby I picked up,” he responds, setting the book back down. “What about you? You read?”

“Here and there. I've always been busy with work,” he confesses. When was the last time he had actually finished a book? He couldn't remember. “Was that your plan? Just to read?”

“Ah, pretty much. Not feelin' too energetic today.”

“I assumed you would've been swimming the others,” This pulls a reaction from the man. He lowers his gaze, hazel eyes staring at the fire.

“Don't really like the others seein' me scars,” Richard raises his eyebrows at this. He wasn't aware of any scars, never seeing any on the man. Then again, he normally walked around with a jacket on, and he even wore a shirt all day while out. “Don't like seein' 'em meself. Just brings up bad memories.”

“How did you get them?” He regrets it as soon as the question leaves his mouth, but Dan doesn't give him a chance to take it back.

“Prison, mostly,” he confesses, “Some from the army, but only a couple.”

Right, he was still on parole if he remembered correctly. He had skimmed through Dan's file, curious about the headstrong man, but he didn't want to admit it. He swallows thickly, but curiosity gets the better of him.

“Why? I mean, why be sent to prison?” There's a pause, but it doesn't last long.

“Beat the shite out of my lieutenant,” Well he wasn't hiding anything, that was for sure. He wasn't sugarcoating it either. “Nearly killed him. Then while in prison, I ended up killing an inmate for bein' a cunt.”

“And that added on to your sentence?”

“Aye, by a year. Used to read all the time after they moved me. Fought so many people there they had to keep me by meself.”

“Christ, you were that bad?”

“Sometimes it was to defend meself, sometimes I was defending someone else. Hated the fucks who picked on smaller inmates.”

“You... really protected other inmates?”

“'Course. 'S why I protect London. I'm just... happier doin' this.”

Well, he hadn't expected that. He never really considered why Dan had fought so much, but he managed to get some stories out of him. Abusive childhood with a father who didn't accept his youngest son. He supposed Dan had just gotten into the habit of protecting his younger brother from their father. He couldn't say he shared the same experience, but he does finally tell his own stories. A neglectful and overbearing mother, how he had lost his father at a young age and hid away from the world. He even tells him about his own time in the navy, and the man looks surprised when he mentions his own prison sentence.

He's not sure when, but the two of them have finally moved closer together, knees brushing against each other as the fire finally dwindles out. It felt nice to talk, and he was pleasantly surprised at how open Dan was. Any question he asked him, the man would answer with no hesitation. What books he read, what music he listened to, how well he did in school, anything he could think of. In return, Dan would ask him questions as well. What the navy was like, if he truly liked SIRS, what he went to college for. He had hesitated at first, but after a few questions, he finally felt relaxed enough to answer without having to think so hard.

When he finally starts to yawn, the two agree to go to bed. Putting out the fire, they walk across the beach, Dan confessing they would be sharing a cottage together. Apparently the group had agreed both would do well together, seeming to have a mutual want for their own space. The inside is nice and cozy, and Richard decides to let Dan take a shower first. He sits down on the bed, rubbing his eyes and stretching. It wasn't an eventual day, but he would admit it was nice to get out of the safehouse. He had been trapped in there, even after his release, sleeping awkwardly on the couch. He was honestly excited to finally sleep in a normal bed.

Richard's almost surprised when Dan exits the bathroom, his shirt gone and his scars showing. Some were older than others, and he was surprised when he noticed a scar in almost the exact same spot he had one. On the left side of his torso, just missing any organs. Dan doesn't even look in his general direction as he runs the towel through his hair in an attempt to dry it. Standing up, he decides to leave him on his own and take his own shower.

The steam hits him and sends a shiver up his spine. The water in the shower is still warm as his feet make contact with the droplets, hand gripping the silver lever and twisting. The water feels amazing, and he takes just a bit longer than normal as he relishes in it. The silence, the warmth, the feeling of the water hitting his skin. For the first time in a while, he finally feels truly relaxed, his eyes slipping shut. The only thing that makes him move in the exhaustion that finally hits.

Turning off the water, he steps out of the shower, drying himself off. He buries his face in the towel for a bit, his mind buzzing. It was all still so surreal. He felt like any moment he would wake up from a dream, still trapped in his cell with no way out. Looking up, he's almost relieved to still see the bathroom door in front of him. He runs his hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out after he's finished getting dressed. Setting the towel on the counter, he flicks off the lights and opens the door. To his surprise, Dan is already laying in bed and fast asleep. He tries to be as quiet as he can as he walks over, admiring the man in the dim light. His arm is hanging out of the blankets, his face in a slight scowl. Slowly reaching out, he runs a hand through the man's damp hair, watching his features relax. It amazed him at how similar they were, at least with their past. Pulling back, he crosses over and sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“You ever touch me without me permission again,” Dan suddenly grumbles out, “and I'll break your fuckin' hand.”

“Oh, stop being a child,” he scoffs, though a small smirk crosses his lips. “I'm sure that's the first time in a while you've gotten any sort of affection anyway.”

There's shuffling and Dan finally sits up, staring at him. There's a look in his eyes, challenging and confident.

“Ya wanna touch me so bad?” he purrs out, “Come and give me a kiss.”

He's stunned, throat running dry as the Irishman holds his gaze. He's grinning, but it's not joy. Oh no, he's grinning because he thinks Richard is going back down. And he might have if he still wasn't upset with the attitude he had to endure during their meetings before Zero-Day was stopped. No way in hell he would let the man have something else to bring up.

Pushing himself off the bed, he crosses over once more. His actions are quick, worried if he took his time, he would change his mind. He grabs the man's face, fingers running through his beard as he bends down, pressing his lips against his. It doesn't last long before both pull away, and Richard laughs at the horrified expression on Dan's face.

“I'm not one to turn down a challenge,” he tells him softly, patting his cheek before returning to his bed. He slips underneath the covers and lays on his side, listening to the soft rustling noises. He's not expecting it when Dan finally gets up, grabbing his shoulder and turning him over.

“Ya wanna fuckin' kiss me, at least do it right, ya idiot.”

[jessiedanielstaylor]

A More In-Depth Look...

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name? Jessie Daniels Taylor.

Where and when were you born? In St. Agnes, Cornwall; UK. The 21st of June, 1994.

What is your occupation? I’m an actor. Done everythin’ from a television series, to stage and film.

Are you right- or left-handed? Right handed.

What does your voice sound like? I don’t know, you tell me.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently? Fucker and uh, cunt. And me personal favorite catch phrase, “You can fuckin’ fuck the fuck off!”

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general? It was fuckin’ shit, is what it was. It wasn’t exactly… typical, in anyway. I never really had much of a ‘healthy’ childhood, ‘cause of me mum bein’ who she was. It’s not really somethin’ I like talkin’ much about.  

What is your earliest memory? Seein’ me mum havin’ these massive drug parties in our flat and just seein’ all kinds of naked bodies, here and there. I remember, havin’ me first spliff and some kind of liquor then as well, at about 4 years old. 

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I don’t know. I don’t think I ever really gave it much thought. I guess, happy. I just wanted to be happy. Didn’t really mat’er what it was I grew up to be.

As a child, what were your favorite activities? Breakin’ bottles and whatever else I could find. ‘Cause there wasn’t exactly much in the way of children’s toys round me mum’s flat.

When and with whom was your first kiss? Anna May. Back in primary, she was the first girl who took me by the hand and said: “I’m makin’ you mine before Gemma does.” Then she laid one on me. I were about five and half then.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity? Nope. Can’t really remember that far back.

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? I suppose, the day me manager found me back in London, as a homeless kid livin’ in the back of a broken down car. ‘Cause a mate of mine and I were scammin’ some bloke and I guess, he thought I were special or somethin’. Him believin’ in me, was somethin’ new. I ain’t ever had that before, so… it made me feel like maybe I could become someone. Ya know?

Do you have a criminal record of any kind? Yeah, I’ve got myself a list. A pretty massive one at that. But who the fuck really cares, yeah?

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? I guess, the moment I was told in primary school that prostitution weren’t exactly the kind of profession I should talk about on “bring your parent’s to school day.” Also, me mum, never showed to those.  

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? I’d change me mum bein’ what she was. A prostitute. ‘Cause, I feel like… me life, would’ve been different if she weren’t that. I wouldn’t have had them bad things happen to me, that happened. I wouldn’t have been in hospital for months. I wouldn’t have been in foster care, bein’ moved round like a piece of fuckin’ used up furniture put out on the fuckin’ street for someone else. I’d of probably known who me dad was early on and not found out about him later on in life. I wouldn’t be as massively fucked in the head as I am now.

What is your best memory? When I won the award for: Best Rising Star in a Drama Series; for, God Save the Queen!. ‘Cause it sort of cemented the idea that I was actually really fuckin’ good at what I did. ‘Cause them other people who’d been doin’ it long before I was, were sayin’ all sorts of things, like: “You’ll be doin’ great things one day,” or “You’re so young and already, you’ve managed to bring a presence on-screen that most people strive to, but never can.”

What is your worst memory? Mate, I’ve got too many to fuckin’ mention.

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

What are your religious views? I’d like to think there’s some god up there, ya know? That shit doesn’t just happen. But I don’t know. I’ve uh, had more bad luck in me life than good. Now, is that ‘cause of god? I don’t fuckin’ know the answer to that. But if it is, the fuckin’ bloke’s got a fucked up sense of humor, if ya ask me.

What are your political views? I’m not much for politics, me. Don’t fuck up me fuckin’ rights or me freedom and I’m alright. I feel like, these days, politics are all everyone’s ever talkin’ ‘bout anymore. 

What are your views on sex? It’s fuckin’ great. Innit?

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do? Rape. I feel is a big one. Not lettin’ someone have a say, to what’s bein’ done to ‘em. ‘Cause that shit, ya never really come back from. 

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? Not really. I think, ya meet people, ya fuck around and sometimes, if you’re lucky… they wanna keep it goin’. No one ever knows if you’re gonna be together forever, mate. We’re not all of us psychic or whatever.  

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)? Me mates. Hands down. No fuckin’ question.

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened. I don’t know. I don’t think I’d know for certain, if I was or not. As fucked and sad, as that is to say, it’s the god’s honest fuckin’ truth.

What do you look for in a potential lover? I don’t really think ‘bout all the particulars of that. If they’re pretty and they’re down to fuck, then that’s all I really care about. Whatever happens after that, happens. It’s out of me fuckin’ hands at that point.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why? Not really. ‘Cause ain’t no one ever really protected me in the past. ‘Cause at the end of fuckin’ day, you’re all you’ve fuckin’ got. 

If you died or went missing, who would miss you? Me fans, maybe a few mates, some exes. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t really think me mum would notice. 

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not? Yeah, man. ‘Cause rest assured, someone would be packin’ somethin’ to take the edge off. Plus, if ya come across the right crowd, you might stay partyin’ long after the sun goes down and way past it comin’ back up again.

Do you care what others think of you? Nah, I couldn’t be fuckin’ bothered with that. Ya either love me or ya fuckin’ hate me. There ain’t no in-between. I’ve got me own shit to keep me fuckin’ busy, I’m not tackin’ on the rest of the fuckin’ world, man.

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)? Any kind of music that gets ya off your arse. Basically anythin’ else that makes ya think about shit, like… really think.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit? Sometimes I do. Sometimes, I go overboard with ‘em. Trial and fuckin’ error, my friend. I don’t know, to be honest.

What, if anything, shocks or offends you? I don’t think anythin’ shocks me anymore. But people. People offend me all the time. ‘Cause everyone’s always takin’ the piss when they think they’ve got some fuckin’ leg to stand on. So, what else is there to do, then knock ‘em back down to fuckin’ size, yeah?

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself? I’d probably go round to some pub and meet someone, then shag ‘em either in one of them stalls there or um, go back round to theirs. Nothin’ like a good fuck to tire you right the fuck out. Or just take some pills and drink ‘em down with a bit of vodka. It does the trick as well.

How do you deal with stress? Honestly? Shaggin’. Fuckin’. Fightin’. Then if all that fuckin’ fails, pop a pill or roll a spliff and I’m back to bein’ King fuckin’ Kong. 

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan? I can’t fuckin’ stand plans. Ya could die at anytime. So, why waste that kind of fuckin’ time?

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. I’m good a shaggin’, actin’ and fuckin’ fightin’. I’ve got a bit of a bad temper, I suppose. I’m bad at bein’ a proper boyfriend or whatever. I’m also, really bad at trustin’ people.

Do you like yourself? Yeah, sometimes. Other times I really fuckin’ hate myself.

If you could choose, how would you want to die? Doin’ somethin’ outrageous, probably.

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. I’d visit me mum. Punch me fuckin’ dad in the face, just ‘cause I felt like it. Then I’d find a home for me pups and probably read one of the books I’ve got on me shelf catchin’ dust. Not sure which one. I don’t think it’d mat’er much though, which book it was.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death? The body of work I did in films, television and stage. ‘Cause regardless of where I am in life, I put everythin’ into them pieces of work. That’s what I’d want people to take away. Not whatever the fuck the tabs wanna print up ‘bout what I’m doin’ or why I got arrested or whatever. ‘Cause yeah, I might be a massive fuck up, but that’s not all I am.

What three words would others probably use to describe you? Insane. Charmin’. Raw.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XIII

December 28, 2277.

“Wait. Enclave? What the hell is an enclave?” Butch asks, brows furrowing.

“In this context, they’re the other group of power-armored assholes running the other radio station with patriotic music, and fancies themselves as the United States of America, though I think they really are what remained of the USA. They’re also the bitches responsible for my dad’s death, so there’s that,” Percy tells him.

“Holy shit,” DeLoria murmurs, throwing back another shot. “Hey hey wait, how do you know that? I didn’t pay much attention to history class but I don’t remember Mr. Brotch mentioning anything about the American government going all psycho with power armor.”

Percy pauses, brow wrinkling. “Dad mentioned something when I was younger, about how some of the history books we study as kids didn’t paint the entire picture, and when we were reunited in the wasteland, at some point when one of his scientists switched to the Enclave radio during dinner, he asked her to turn it off. Said it was run by fascists that came from a failed pre-war government.”

“But how does your old man know about that when the vault was sealed- oh. Oh right. The Overseer lied to us.” Butch finally gets it. “Damn.”

“Yeah, and look at where that got us. I always suspected that things weren’t always what it seemed. Plus, the truth slips out of Old Lady Palmer’s mouth whenever she mentions dad “arriving” in the vault. My doubts were confirmed when I looked through Almodovar’s terminal, before I opened the door. There were scouting reports. Pictures of giant ants.”

The bartender serves Percy another shot and she gulps it down before resuming her story. The number of cigarettes in DeLoria’s box is dwindling, and so did mine.

“Then when I got to Megaton, some of the locals knew about the brainwashing stuff, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell in place. Finding out that dad was parroting the Overseer’s propaganda hurt. The worst part is? I haven’t forgiven him before he died.”

“I um… I’m sorry, Perce.”

My friend shrugs at DeLoria. “It is what it is. I miss him already. He’d know what to do. I wish I didn’t argue with him before those assholes...”

A sniff resounded in the mostly empty bar. Soft cries escaped Percy’s lips, tears streaming down her red face. I wanted to offer an arm, a hand, anything , but DeLoria already wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Right. Great. That’s probably for the better. Sticking my non-existent nose in her business is becoming a dangerous habit.

Last night was probably a mistake.

“Okay, I think you had enough alcohol for the night,” the barkeep announces, and takes the scotch away. “The two of you, make sure she sleeps it off.”

“Hey Butch, you said you were gonna start a new gang, right? May I suggest ‘Our Dads Got Fucking Killed by Fascists’ for the name? We three could be the first members,” Percy slurred in between sobs. How she can find humor in the situation is beyond me.

“Yeah, she’s wasted alright,” Butch mumbles. “Hey, um, I don’t exactly have caps on me yet. Is Perce gonna pay the tab?”

I scoffed, fishing around Percy’s pack to pay off our bill. After tossing a few caps to the old lady, I helped Percy to her feet, and so did DeLoria. It was a struggle. I am a few inches shy of seven feet, DeLoria’s around six, and Percy is just a little taller than five. DeLoria looks at me with a weary smile. The two of us did the best we can to ensure this small girl doesn’t land face-first into the ship’s metal flooring. Us both being inebriated and Dogmeat bumping into us every three seconds did not help. I heard a patron that frequents the bar snicker at the sight of us, a girl about Percy’s age with the shittiest pigtails I’ve ever seen. On a human, anyway.

“Y’know what? Just carry her,” said Butch, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn’t working. I need to get some shuteye for my first day as a barber tomorrow too. See you two around.”

“Goodnight, Butch,” Percy slurs, half of her ass leaning on a nearby table for support.

I nodded at the greaser and he left the premises, the confidence in his gait replaced with drunk swaying and awkwardness. Gathering our gear, I carried Percy’s pack and weapons on my back, then I swept her off her feet in a bridal carry.

She’s gotten lighter.

“Hey, big guy,” slurs Percy, hiccuping. “You do know that I am -hic- perfectly capable of walking, right?”

“The last time you said that, you almost fell off the boat.” I started heading towards the exit.

My friend sighs, shaking her head in resignation. “I might as well enjoy riding you then.”

I froze in my spot. The girl with the shitty hair snorted her drink and outright laughed at us. I couldn’t bring my eyes to look at Percy but I know that she’s even redder now, and she felt a few degrees warmer in my arms.

She stammers, slightly flailing. “I mean, I might as well enjoy you- the ride! I might as well enjoy the ride! Dammit!”

“Sleep it off, Percy.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” the bartender barked at us. “Get the fuck out of my bar and go hump each other someplace else. I’m closing shop.”

We left in a hurry.

Percy was breathing softly, seemingly asleep when we arrived in the Weatherly Hotel, the only clean place to sleep on the boat, where we were greeted by the owner and a Mr. Handy. Beside her, the boy we rescued and brought from Grayditch stands up and runs to us.

“Hey! You two came to visit! Whoa, what happened to her? Is she hurt?” the boy exclaims.

“She’s fine, just tired. We need a room.”

“Hi, Bryan,” Percy slurs. She wasn’t asleep after all. “Shouldn’t you be asleep already?”

The owner smiles. “She’s right, Bryan. Off to bed.”

“Aw. Aunt Vera, I wanna hang out with Percy and Charon more.”

“You can do that tomorrow when Percy is feeling better,” Vera replies, and she nods to us. She had the room unlocked and I stepped in, placing Percy on the bed, and I dumped our gear on the floor. I locked the door behind us afterwards.

While I made sure nothing was out of place, Percy was sloshing water in her mouth, which she spat in a bucket. Staying clean even when she cannot take a full bath are some of her habits and rituals that I got used to. They’re probably good ones. She’s not resistant to disease like I am.

I turned to check on Percy. She had stripped down to her underwear, glasses haphazardly tossed to the bed.

The alcohol in my system is impairing my judgment. I should be turning around and should not be watching Percy tend to herself, but I just watched her. Life in the wasteland claimed some of her softness, and she had a few scars here and there, but she’s still attractive. Her legs are toned from all the walking we do, and her shoulders slightly are wider than her hips. When she turns around though, her behind is… something else.

Wait.

I’m looking at her bare ass.

I need to turn around. I need to turn around, but my body isn’t letting me. I can feel myself tenting at the crotch of my pants. This isn’t good.

When she turned to me, naked, swaying, and smiling, I thought I was in another dream, but I felt her warm breath and I know I’m awake. Things are happening too fast. My eyes dared to meet hers, then it trails below, to her small erect nipples, wet and shiny from her half-bath, and the dark patch of fuzz between her legs.

Damn it. I wanted to claim her. Act on the fantasies I have about her on nights that my body was too warm for my own liking. Put those nipples in my mouth. Bury my face between her legs. Pin her against the bed and make sure the entire boat hears her cry out my name.

“Big guy. Come to bed with me?”

But I hear the slur in her speech, and it took all of my willpower to shake my head.

“No. Percy. You’re drunk,” I say to her firmly.

“And?”

“I don’t want you to do things you’ll regret later, and I do not want to take advantage of your vulnerability.”

“Wait, who said anything about- I just want to sleep next to you again, Charon.”

“Naked?”

Mouth open and brows furrowed, she looks at herself, and curses. “I am- oh no, I am so sorry, holy shit,” Percy apologizes. “Fuck. Fuck! Stupid ass drunk idiot! I’m never drinking again,” she says to herself.

“Keep your voice down. I’ll go look for something you can wear.”

“Dammit, Charon I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to harass you like this, oh my God-”

“I do not feel harassed, but I appreciate the apology. Now, refrain from making any more noise,” I tell her, and I reach into her pack. A flimsy red nightgown was the last thing I expected.

“Percy, is this fine? This will not protect you from the cold much.”

She looks at me, then at the thing, and snatches it from my hand. “Yes! Um, thank you Charon. I found it when we were looting and-”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Percy. Get dressed.”

She nods, turning around and dressing herself, then she clears her throat. “All clear. Your turn.”

I cleaned up and changed into something more suitable for sleeping, Percy’s back in sight, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering. When I finished changing, I got in bed.

We lay on the bed next to each other, but she seems so far away.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Charon. I don’t want you to think that I’m like some of your former employers who, uh, used you for your body.”

“I don’t think of you that way.”

“That’s a relief. You’re important to me.”

I look at her, and she’s facing me now, eyes soft and filled with a feeling I cannot describe. “Thank you. You are important to me too.”

Burying her face in my chest, she wraps an arm around my waist. I pulled the covers over us, and I held her.

“Night. Love you.”

February 7, 2278.

Two days after DeLoria’s first visit, he came over again. He brought with him a few of Percy’s belongings from Megaton, including Dogmeat’s teddy bear. The mistress entrusted a copy of the house key to the greaser, much to my dismay, but the dog has been restless without Mr. Bubbles and having it back gave me some relief.

It smells more like dog slobber now than it did Percy, but Dogmeat is still comforted by it. He misses her. I miss her too.

Dr. Li said she is getting better, but she’s still cautious. The doctor told me to not have too much hope; she had seen patients seemingly recover only for them to crash after a few days. It scares me. I wouldn’t know what to do with my life if Percy dies.

Dammit, I don’t want to think about that. She is going to live. Percy is a tough gal.

At this point, only Dr. Li, the greaser, and I are allowed in Percy’s room. She caught one of the scribes she entrusted attempting to extract blood from my partner without her authorization. I know something’s up, but the doctor isn’t budging. What is she hiding from the Brotherhood about my partner?

One of these days, I might need to confront her.

Smoking isn’t allowed in Percy’s room, so DeLoria and I just chewed bubblegum in silence while I maintained our equipment. I sorted out Percy’s change of clothes, came across that flimsy red sleepwear, and tucked it under her other belongings, what’s left of my skin burning hot. I’m doing my best not to let my mind wander to that night. Butch is fiddling with his Pip-Boy, identical to the one my partner owns, and I sigh in relief in knowing that he didn’t see me touch that thing. He already has several wrong ideas.

While I was hastily putting it away, a slip of paper fell.

It turned out to be a photograph. She found a camera when we stormed Paradise Falls, to save some kids. I remember the look on her face when Little Lamplight’s brat of a mayor told them that slavers took their friends.  We ended up opening the slave pens and trashing the place. Percy and I told them to find Hannibal Hamlin in the Washington Monument. Meeting Hamlin was one of my nicer memories from the past few months.

I’d do anything to see the determined gleam in her eye again.

I look at the photograph. It’s of me and the dog. Why would Percy keep something like this?

In the photo, I am asleep, taking a nap on the couch, and the dog was laying on my chest, looking at my partner behind the camera. I flipped it over, and there was some writing on it. Months of being taught by Percy paid off. She taught an old dog new tricks: I learned how to read.

“1-13-2278. Charon and Dogmeat.” This was two days after we got rid of my contract.  “The two loves of my life, after scotch,” she wrote under that. There’s a hollow heart drawn next to it.

I snort at the caption, knowing Percy’s sense of humor. Calling me Mr. Dreamboat, joking that I am her boyfriend… hell, she managed to freak out a few of the bigots in Tenpenny Tower with it once.

Now that I’ve thought about it… the playful nicknames, the touching, the concern, her putting me above herself, the trust she puts in me, the “love you” she mumbled while piss-wasted when I slept next to her in Rivet City; how did I miss all the signs?

Was I too taken in by the belief that smoothskins cannot harbor these feelings for ghouls? What did that damn kiss in the rotunda mean?

Does she even know the consequences of that kiss? If blondie wakes up and tattles to the Brotherhood about the Lone Wanderer kissing her ghoul bodyguard before running inside the chamber, it will ruin her. They might treat her even worse than before. My fears of people hurting her because of being associated with me gets worse as the days pass. There are so many things I want to ask her, so many things I want to talk about, but she’s still lying there, unconscious, under life support.

This can’t be the way things end.

Does she love me the way I love her?

I just want to know my place in her life.

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #charon fallout 3 #fallout 3 charon #butch deloria #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout 3 #fallout fanfic #fallout 3 fanfic #writers on tumblr

[theangelicpyro]

The Prime Suspect

Detective C.C. Tinsley is stuck. The investigation into the local serial killer is going nowhere, and more often then not he finds himself drinking to avoid the stinging pain of failure. Ryan is doing his best to help, but the discussions they have usually consist of Tinsley humoring him, while relaxing for the slightest bit in front of the only person who doesn't blame him.

It's almost been a year since the first murder, and sometimes, Shane just wishes he was never transferred here. Sometimes, he wishes he was never here at all.

.

.

.

Nine.

The body count.

The number that had taken to haunting his mind as it steadily rose while the months passed by.

Detective C.C. Tinsley sighed, dropping his head in his hands after going over his clues. For the… millionth time. It was expected really, considering that almost a year had passed with absolutely no suspects. The town had lost faith in his ability long ago, after the two- and three-year-old's died.

They were the first of many. Too many. Such young souls, not even given the chance to truly live before their threads had been cut.

It was already November. Close to his only friend’s birthday, now that he thought about it. Ryan had seemed more skittish than usual; he’d have to check up on him soon. Tinsley wished he could solve the cases before the birthday arrived, if only so he could actually celebrate with nothing weighing him down.

He sighed again, this time rolling his long-since empty glass around his hand at the reminder of what he was supposed to have figured out almost eleven months ago. It was jarring, going from the quiet routine of a small place, to the terror of knowing a murderer is on the loose. The calm before the storm, he mused.

Standing up, he began pacing, his unfortunate downstairs neighbors far too used to it by now. What could he do? Was he just too incompetent at his job? Would he even be able to prevent another death?

He paused, startled only by the realization that he had to meet up with someone soon today to discuss potential suspects, not that it ever made a difference. They had never had any leads, and it always ended in empty promises of figuring out the killer before the next gathering. Glancing down at his clothes, he thought it might be good to freshen up beforehand.

It really wasn't a bad idea, he decided, finally looking in the mirror. Hair matted, prominent and permanent eyebags, and a hunched, hurting back from poring over his notes everyday.

After washing up and grabbing his coat off the rack, he headed out.

Ryan didn't live too far away; a pleasant walk one might say, plus Tinsley was far past the point of caring if he got murdered on his stroll there.

He wasn’t, and managed to make it there unscathed.

Ryan answered the door, oddly nervous. Well, more so than he had been in the past.

“Tinsley? There’s, there’s something I really have to tell you.” His voice grew more panicked with every word, his hands shaking while he closed the door behind the detective. “So I’ve been doing some, some research on numbers and, and I think I figured it out. The pattern.”

Ryan pulled his friend towards the back of his apartment, grip tight and knuckles white, showing him the stereotypical wall of the ages, pictures, and drawings, all tied together with red strings. There were books piled up all around, a computer with far too many tabs open, and notes pinned to every surface.

Tinsley was first concerned for his friend’s mental wellbeing, it’s barely been a week since I’ve seen him last and he already seems to have lost his mind , then began inspecting all what he had collected.

“Nine murders, with seemingly no connection. I looked them up in order on a whim and they’re all, they’re all prime numbers. Two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three....” He drew in a sharp breath, before turning to the detective with a fearful look in his eyes. “The next number is… twenty-nine.”

“...How old are you, Ryan?”

“I’m, I’m about to be twenty-nine.”

“Shit!” The detective cursed under his breath, ignoring the tell-tale burning sensation of tears prickling at his eyes.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I.”

“No you’re not! Not if I can help it!” Tinsley burst out, grasping Ryan’s shoulders as he looked into the other’s eyes. The two stood there a moment, the wannabe detective having lost his fear for a sense of emptiness while the true one tried to calm down.

“When’d you figured this out? The potential pattern.” He hissed internally at the pessimistic voice in his head saying it wasn’t just a possibility.

“Not too, not too long ago. The start of this week.”

“And you didn’t tell me immediately? Ryan, buddy, your life is on the line, you can’t afford to withhold this type of stuff!”

“I was in shock. Still in shock.” He corrected, hands trembling as he tried to sit and sit still, fidgeting under the piercingly worried stare.

Tinsley took a deep breath, then cleared his throat before speaking. “It’s… I can’t say that it’ll be okay, but… I will do my best to protect you, even if I have to die for you. I’ve already disappointed the town, but I never want to do the same to you.”

Ryan immediately backpedaled, though the strange hint of a smile was lost on the detective. “No! You’re the only person in this place that even has a chance of solving these murders, please don’t waste your life on me!” He paused, shifting his tone.

“You’re more important than you’ll ever know, never forget that.”

***

It was today. The day his only friend in this stupid place turned the age that seemed to be next in terms of the recent serial killer’s modus operandi.

C.C. Tinsley was stressed. More than stressed. Panicking? That was a better word for it.

He couldn’t afford to fail, not again. Not with so much at stake. He’d insisted on standing guard outside Ryan’s apartment, occasionally checking in but mostly staying out. It wasn’t until he heard the door open, unaware of the board smacking him upside the head, that effectively knocked him out.

The next thing he knew was the pain of duct tape, a splinter from the chair he was stuck to, and the crazed grin of someone far gone, for far too long.

“Did you really think I was going to die? Poor little ‘Ryan Bergara,’ the guy afraid of his own shadow? The guy that consequently doesn’t exist?” He crouched, smiling sweetly at the man he’d been stringing along like a puppet since the beginning.

“You know, there was a reason I told you the pattern. Wanna guess?” Tinsley glared, but said nothing. Not like he could anyway, due to the duct tape over his mouth. ‘Ryan’ pouted, but continued anyway.

“Mere. Curiosity. That’s it! I always thought, I know so much about crimes and how to get away with them, why not take a crack at it for myself? I figured my best introduction to the world would be seemingly random but violent deaths, ranging from as young as two to a young adult of twenty-three!” He took a bow, pretending as if there was an audience applauding him and his ‘accomplishments.’

“And you wanna know the best part? I succeeded!”

Detective Tinsley scowled, struggling in his bonds, attempting to kick his captor but only managing to knock over the chair he was taped to.

Ryan glanced boredly at the display of the man he defeated, the one currently writhing on the stone cold floor. “If you still think you’ll escape, you’re very naive, Mr. Tinsley.”

The killer suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, and pulled out his phone. Beginning to cackle, he looked like a madman ready to lose it at any second. Calming down, he shifted personas into the one Tinsley knew best, the one that was apparently just a ruse. He ran around the room then quickly dialed a short number, breathing heavily from the exercise. “He-Hello? Police? I’d, I’d like to report an attempted murder… I barely got away, but we all know the killer well. It’s… It’s our very own town detective, Mr. Tinsley.” He smirked, watching the pieces of his game fall into place while Tinsley’s face fell, then his eyes were practically screaming his anger. “I, I don’t know where I am, no… Can’t you try to find him before getting me? I’d feel safer if he was caught and behind bars… Okay, th-thank you.” The call disconnected, and unimaginable fury rolled off the newly-pronounced scapegoat in waves. Ryan merely beamed, succeeding in only angering his victim further.

They sat in silence for a while, if you ignored the grunts of rage and various shuffling coming from the detective, still on the floor. Eventually, Ryan decided to take the duct tape off, if only to hear someone else talk than the voices in his head.

Immediately biting his hand, Tinsley tore through the skin in an attempt to escape. All that did however, was annoy the person who could easily kill him. He sighed, tugging on his hand before giving up. “Is this really all you can do? Come on, I could have sworn I told you that I have congenital insensitivity to pain. It’s the reason for all my fevers.” Ryan pointed to the now bleeding hand. “I can’t feel this, sorry to burst your bubble dear.”

Tinsley spat out the hand, glaring at its owner. “You’re insane, and I will stop you.”

“That’s rich, coming from the man stuck to a chair. And are you sure I’m the insane one? You’re the one stuck in your mind.” He burst out laughing, wheezing a bit before talking again. “I’m just kidding, I bet you wish this was only a dream!”

Waltzing around the fallen chair, Ryan petulantly sulked over the stubbornly quiet investigator. “You know, the point of taking off the tape was to hear you groan about my win and your loss, yadda yadda ya. And that’s not happening, so it wasn’t even worth it! Gosh, all that effort wasted…” He pulled out the roll of duct tape, tore off a piece, then went over to put it on his ‘friend.’

Tinsley flew into action, pulling out his wrists that had sweat so much the duct tape didn’t even stick anymore, and punched the other man straight into the nose, breaking it instantly. Ryan got up easily, bleeding profusely but undeterred from stopping now.  

Unfortunately that one punch was all he could do, as his legs were still attached to the chair. Even with his arms free, he still had fallen over in his original plan of escape, limiting him severely.

The sound of sirens startled the both of them.

Ryan glanced over to the window, surprised at his rather awful complexion, and the police cars pulled up outside the building. Then he sighed. “I really thought we’d have more time to play together. Alas, my destiny awaits!” Walking towards the entrance, he winked at the detective. “I had so much fun! Can’t wait for next time, my dear Mr. Tinsley!”

Throwing open the door dramatically, he wore a face not unlike that of a cheshire cat. “I’ll surrender now.” He said simply, looking over his shoulder to get one last glimpse of his confused captive. The small group of officers first headed past him, but all he did was say a few words before their weapons were pointed on him.

“You have the right to remain silent-”

“Anything I say can and will be used against me in the court of law, I know, I know. Just get it over with.” He held his hands out together, wrist side up, while the police kept reading out the Miranda Rights and cuffed him.

One of the members on the force went inside cautiously, and took in the sight of the downed detective, before taking out his knife and began freeing him from the tape.

“It, it wasn’t me,” He gasped, nodding towards the true culprit.

“We know.” Said the officer grimly, watching the proceedings of the arrest.

“I’m sorry, I was caught in his trap from the beginning, but he’s the one responsible. For the murders. I was just too blind to see it behind the facade he carefully crafted. Dammit, I gave him the information we had all this time because he was like a kid wanting to be a police officer when he grew up, and helping me out with so much research.” Tinsley dropped his head in his hands.

“I never thought he would be capable of something as sickening as being a serial killer.”

***

The next morning, Shane Madej, codename ‘C.C. Tinsley,’ turned in his badge. “Not fit for the job,” he said. “I don’t deserve it when I barely scraped through those cases.”

Ryan Bergara was put on trial, and his punishment was the death penalty. They say he was smiling all the way up until he met his end.

So, what’s next?

This small town suffered a total of 10 losses, if you count Mr. Bergara’s contribution. None do.

Mr. Tinsley moved to a place he was used to, a place where he fulfilled his need to have the hustle and bustle of a large city always able to be heard, lest the maniacal laughter and sharp pain of betrayal dig deep into his heart and ring throughout his head, teasing him in the voice of the person long since dead.

The nightmares still haunt him when he sleeps.

He wastes his life away, staying awake for as long as he possibly can to avoid them.

(It never works.)

One day, he simply…

Drops.

Dead to the world, dead to the dead.

It’s quite a shame, considering he’d been dead for far longer than that.

#shane madej #ryan bergara #buzzfeed unsolved #oneshot #murder mystery #angst #bittersweet #serial killer #shaniac #boogara #detective cc tinsley #not a happy ending

[soundofseventeen]

13 Days of Christmas (Lee Chan)

Happy holidays from Erin and me, and thank you for enjoying what our single brain cell manages to come up with! I’ll edit this after work and gif creds to the owners

Word count: 1727

“Gather ‘round everyone,” Junhui said, holding out a Santa hat upside down. “Gather ‘round! It’s that time of year again!”

“You’re finally going back to China,” Minghao quipped, not tearing his eyes away from the article on his phone. “It’s about time too.”

“If I’m going back, you’re coming with me dummy,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Okay, so in this Santa hat are 14 names. You will each pick one name from here and you will be that person’s Secret Santa.”

“Secret Santa’s boring,” Jihoon jeered. “Not everyone can keep a secret.” His eyes flickered to the three idiots on the floor giggling at some video Soonyoung swore was funny.

“Hey,” Seungcheol whined from the kitchen sink, “I was almost there. It wasn’t my fault Chan left his present in the closet.”

Your ears perked up a little at the mention of Chan’s name, but you kept your gaze on your phone, wanting to break your current high score. You already knew you wouldn’t pull his name whether Secret Santa happened or not. But you knew they’d go along with Jun’s plan just because he suggested it. The more uninterested you looked, the better.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Mingyu said, drawing a diagonal line on the tic-tac-toe game he was playing against Chan. He immediately started a new game.

“Y’all hear something?” Seungkwan broke his attention away from the little screen. “It sounded...annoying. Oh hyung! It was just you! Can we hear what the more important ones have to say?” He swatted his hand at the flying pencil which ended up hitting Soonyoung, who then decided his audience didn’t deserve to see the video so he exited the app and sat on the couch, which ultimately distracted you and made you lose your game, which upset you too.

“This better be good Wen Junhui.” You could feel your nerves already hitting overdrive.

“Always the grinch, aren’t we Y/N?” he teased you, holding the hat out to you. “Since you look like the most excited one here, why don’t you go first?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” You crunched down on the candy cane in your mouth, savoring the minty taste (but also knowing you’d need some sweet ones too) before reaching into the hat and pulling out a slip of paper. You had your hopes and your expectations. The odds of getting the boy you wanted was one in thirteen. You didn’t mind having the other boys but maybe you just wanted the opportunity to buy something for him without having to look weird. You unfolded the scrap and read the name.

Junhui.

“Did you get yourself?”

“No,” you shook your head.

“Then my work here is done. He made a show of running back and forth between the members so everyone would have a fair turn, and everything was running smoothly when he asked Seokmin, “Did you get yourself?”

“No, I got Minghao.” And the next thing he knew, everyone was pelting him with whatever they could get their hands on. “I’m sorry, okay? Hey, that one hurt.”

“Alright, scrap this round. Everyone put the papers back in here and I’m gonna shuffle them again and now...Hannie hyung, you’re going first...did you get yourself?”

“No, but this isn’t who I wanted.”

“Too bad, next! Wonwoo-ssi, you’ve been so quiet so it’s your turn.”

The mistake repeated thrice more when Mingyu announced getting Jun (you pulled out Soonyoung for that round); Chan spoiled it when he revealed Seungkwan’s name (you pulled Jeonghan); and Seungcheol ruined it when he said he got you (you picked Mingyu) and then Junhui huffed out a, “Unless you got yourself, keep your mouths shut.” He managed to glare at the culprits as they pulled out their picks. “Okay Y/N, it’s your turn.”

You didn’t bother holding your breath anymore; it seemed like all the pent up anxiety went away with the disappointment of not pulling his name in the last 15 minutes. You didn’t feel your hands tremble anymore as you unfolded the little, somehow dirty with the grease from potato chips (and after a quick scan, you figured out that Vernon pulled out this at least once. You’re ready to get this over with and then you feel the nerves come back tenfold.

“Did you get yourself?”

“No.” You finally pulled out Chan’s name...and now you were terrified.

*

Once you were in the comforts of your own place later that night, you brought out a notebook and your laptop and opened the tabs that’d hopefully help you out. But what the hell do you get the future of kpop? He got everything his heart desired on a silver platter. You fell back on your bed with a groan, hating the universe for finally listening to you. You could've gotten any other of the boys something like a watch, or a pair of shoes or even just a new camera, but you hated the fact that you had a crush on Chan because now you had to go all out and get him something that was special.

You would’ve made him something but your own idol life kept you from actually things you enjoyed...besides the dancing and music. And buying him something just didn’t feel personal. Maybe if you bought him a dog...no, a cat...wait maybe a rabbit...a lizard...how about a turtle...a parrot! Your hand found your pillow and you resisted the urge to smother your face in it when you threw it on you. A wallet? Nah, one of the boys already bought him one when his ripped during a concert. He already had plenty of clothes...and shoes. What if you bought him a MacBook? Nope, one of them (Soonyoung) would try setting it up and then they’d be asking for a new one.

“What?” you answered your phone, your voice still muffled.

“Whose Secret Santa are you?” Speak of Kwon Soonyoung and he shall appear.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because if you got me, I’m just saying there’s this new grill I saw at the hardware store last week and it’s on sale. And even if youre not my secret Santa, I’d appreciate the gift.”

“Goodbye Soonyoung.”

Suddenly, a trip to Ibiza didn’t sound so bad and you would’ve booked flights but Seventeen had a much tighter schedule than you did so they would’ve gone to waste. You finally stood up, finding something in you to put your shoes in the closet. Okay, they honestly, would’ve been fine where they were, but you didn’t wanna stare at the laptop anymore in case you decided to yell at it for not helping you. You never wanted to do Secret Santa for Chan again. It was a lot more stressful than you decided.

You threw your shoes on the floor, ready to go back to your bed when a pen caught your eye. Admittedly, you wanted a distraction so you bent down to pick it up, cursing yourself for leaving your backpack open so everything could fall to the ground. Not too far from it a plasic bag caught your eye, and you reached over to take it out and a smile broke out on your face. It wasn’t perfect but it’d do.

*

“Merry Christmas from your Secret Santa,” Joshua said with a smile. He gave you a poorly wrapped present which you took gratefully.

“I’m afraid now,” you teased him.

“As you should. I spent almost two months collecting everyone’s toenail clippings.”

“This is why you’re single.” Even though you knew he was kidding, you still shook the gift...just to be sure. Something clinked in there and your paranoid gaze met his mischievous one. “You didn’t really do that, did you?”

“Be grateful it wasn’t coal,” he said, referring to the fact that Soonyoung’s secret Santa (which turned out to be Seungcheol) did just that.

You unwrapped it hesitantly, heart pounding a lot faster than it should’ve and it was only when you saw a Winnie-the-Pooh and friends stained glass design that you breathed a sigh of relief and almost threw it at him. “This is beautiful. I love it. Thank you, okay then, ‘bye. Okay, Chan. Merry Christmas from your secret Santa aka me.”

“Did you get me cologne? Someone, not to name names-” his eyes shot to Jeonghan accusingly, “finished all of mine last week.”

“If you told me that sooner, I would’ve saved myself the headache,” you groaned.

“But you didn’t and that’s okay. So, what did you get me since you can’t give me the world?” He took your gift bag curiously, examining the sides. “It’s too small to be shoes, and you didn’t put it in a box.” He reached into it and pulled out a leather journal with his name written in both Korean and English. He opened it right away and read the little message you put in.

“Now that you’re doing more choreographies, maybe you’ll want a place to put your notes in. Or you can just jot your words down.”

“Y/N, I was wondering when you were gonna give me this.”

“Huh?”

“This is gonna sound really weird but a couple years ago when we went to your house...this was before you moved...I was putting some chicken, i think it was away back in the fridge and I saw this in a bag mixed in with vegetables. I thought it was yours but then i saw my name on it...I thought you might’ve forgotten about it.”

You were confused for a moment longer and then you remembered. “Oh yeah! I did but I didn’t. I bought this for you awhile back but I wanted to give it to you for Christmas but then it would’ve looked bad if I got you something but not anyone else, and then when Jun wanted to do Secret Santa, I was hoping I’d get you but I never did...and then I just gave up on the idea.”

“You are really the cutest. But it’s better late than never.” He tapped your head affectionately with it. “Now if you’ll excuse me...Hey, hyung! Guess what I got.”

You couldn’t stop that stupid grin from forming on your face. Lee Chan called you cute, and it just made your day a lot better.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen kpop #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #seventeen x reader #dino oneshot #dino fic #dino imagines #dino x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen dino #lee chan fluff #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt imagines #kpop imagine #kpop drabbles #kpop x reader #seventeen scenerios #seventeen christmas #chan fic #chan fanfic #chan oneshot

[gracieisnotmuchofawriter]

Liars

Jude’s car rolled across the pavement smoothly. They had just gotten it after they graduated from high school. It sat low with tinted windows and a boxy frame. Jude named her (yes it’s a her) Anastasia. It was a cute, compact car with a black paint job.

  The sky was bright and blue, the sun was just past the top of the sky. Long, flowing wispy clouds painted over the horizon. It was a brisk day, the first since April. We passed houses, strip malls, a couple of banks, all populated with the busy Tuesday afternoon traffic.

  Today, Jude helped me lie to the teacher. On Sunday night and some of Monday night, they helped me do all of the homework I hadn’t kept up on. By help, I mean they just sat in my room and asked if I was done with an assignment. After Asha showed me that “Finished Not Perfect” video (we talked quite a long time after we got dinner) I was inspired to try to put someone’s disappointment out of my head and just get things done. It didn’t work because I was an anxious wreck doing those late assignments. My leg bounced and it felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. I kept telling myself not to “fuck this up you fucking idiot.” I didn’t want to seem incompetent to Jude. They seem so smart and mature. We’re the same age(18) and they’re calm, collected and I’m just not. After I set the spaces between the letters right on the last assignment, I breathed a sigh of relief. Jude asked if I felt accomplished but I just felt exhausted and annoyed. I wanted to know that elated feeling of finishing something, flaws and all, but I couldn’t. I just kept chastising myself for how easy it all was. The minute I got going, it was fine, I was fine, everything was okay, but the fact that it was okay made me feel so stupid for being so afraid of it. Why am I like this? I want my auntie. I want my mom.

  After Jude left, I sat at my desk, motionless. The door was open, the orange floors were glowing with all of the lights still on. They didn’t shut off automatically like other suites. I just looked at all of the empty space, embarrassed with myself. Jude left thinking I must feel amazing and relieved, but I felt worse than ever. A sinking feeling weighed my stomach down. The uplifting speech Asha gave at Apple Bee’s seemed wasted. It could’ve gone to one of her friends, not a roommate scared of everything, no matter how difficult it is. I let these people down, I didn’t feel the accomplishment they felt for me.

  I sat there for hours, when I felt the confidence to get up and go to bed, the sun was already coming up. I looked at my phone, it was three hours before class. I took a shower, laid in bed and felt the pull of sleep at the moment my alarm went off. When I went to turn in my stuff, Missy asked me a few questions.

  “Why are you just now giving me these, Amber?” She says, the question is piercing, but indifferent.

  I grunted and looked for the words, but I couldn’t find any, my mind went blank.

  “She lost the thumb drive that had them on there.” Jude said, their voice gives nothing away, I look at them with what I hope is a look of gratitude.

  “Where was it?” Missy’s brow furrowed, she doubted Jude’s story and looked over at me.

  “At the bottom of my bag, under a book.” This was a lie. I don’t have a thumb drive.

  “That’s strange, because we have AirDrop and your computers are automatically synced to the printers.” Her voice is stern and much harsher now, her eyes are on me.

  “I go home sometimes and forget my computer, so my brother gave me a thumb drive and lets me use his old computer, it has all the design stuff on it. He pirated it.” I say, with as much confidence as I can, hoping my worried expression doesn’t give me away.

  “Okay,” Missy sighs, “it’s done, that’s what matters, but it’s late so you won’t get full credit.” I felt relieved. But she didn’t believe me. Before we walked out, she called after us.

  “Amber, it doesn’t matter where it comes from, as long as you made it and you printed it out, I just want you to be honest with me, alright?” She said, her voice was firm but somehow comforting.

  We pulled into Michael’s. An art supply store. I couldn’t think straight. Missy’s voice echoed in my head, her words dug into the soft flesh of my brain. We sat in the parking lot for a few minutes. Jude tapped my shoulder.

  “Hey, you alright?” They asked, I looked over at them, their face was filled with worry. I felt like I was being split in two.

  “I shouldn’t have lied.” My voice was small and low.

  “Maybe, but does it matter? I mean— okay, it wasn’t true, it was a lie, but the work still got turned in.” Jude said, their voice was sure and comforting.

  “But now I’m not just ‘Amber’, I’m now ‘Amber The Liar’, I broke her trust.” I asserted, my stomach felt hollowed out.

  “Yeah, now I’m ‘Jude The Liar’, too” they grab my hand, squeezing gently, “but it doesn’t matter—“ I cut them off.

  “How doesn’t it matter? I lied to someone I shouldn’t have.” I say, my voice is whiny.

  “Then don’t go along with my lie next time, it doesn’t have to be this big ole thing.” Their thumb runs back and forth over my knuckles. I just want a hug, but we’ve known each other for five days.

  “But what about now?” I say, my voice is small. I search their face, hoping to find an answer.

  “What about now? It’s over, it’s done, it’s okay to let it go.” They give me a soft smile, their voice was comforting.

  “How do I let go of this?” I look at my feet, my voice was quieter now.

  “By living, c’mon, I need pens and I have something to run by you.” They let go of my hand, the door opens with a pop and slams shut with that soft, dull thud.

  The store smelled like wood and disinfectant. The floors were white, cloudy and had warped reflections of the lights above. Vaguely human figures shimmered across as well, warped by the same cloudiness that folded the image of the lights. The aisle we were in had racks hanging with pens. At our waist sat a shelf with tiny, square compartments with little numbers carved on the top and bottom of the separators. Pens were individually taped shut with a weird foil strip with a barcode tab hanging off to the side.

  Jude read the top and bottom numbers, looking off to the side, eyes distant as they imagine what the pen may look like in action. Or at least that’s what they looked like. As an aside, even in the harshest light they were beautifully handsome.

  “So what’s this thing you wanted to run by me?” I ask, they glance at me for a moment before looking back at a pen.

  “You know that video? ‘Finished not perfect’?” They say, voice monotone as they read the sides of this number five pen.

  “Uhm, yeah, what about it?” I ask, recalling Jake Parker’s comforting, fatherly voice. Making the assertion that the only way to becoming a successful artist is by finishing things. It’s what inspired me last night to get caught up.

  “Well, Jake Parker, the guy who made the video, has a challenge coming up in a couple weeks.” They say, looking up at me with a smile.

  “Okay?” I chuckle, they’re so cute when they’re excited.

  “It’s called Inktober, every day in the month of October, you draw something based on the prompt of that day, here—“ they pull out their phone, they get closer to me, showing me a picture of all the prompts, “these are all the prompts, everyday, you draw something new.”

  “But with pens?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. They smell like honeysuckle, it’s my favorite.

  “Yup, with ink. It’s about discipline, endurance and I want you to do it with me.” They turn the phone off putting it back in their pocket. I know I already said it, but they’re so cute when they’re excited.

  “Why me?” I ask, a nagging feeling pulls at my stomach, “Why not that one chick, the ginger? She’s better than me.” I continued, she was a very studious individual, probably had all thirty-one illustrations already done.

  “Because Edith is done already and I barely know her.” Jude says, picking up another pen, reading the side.

  “You barely know me.” I say, it’s only been five days since they gave me a pop.

  “I know enough and for the record; no ones better than anyone.” Jude says, picking up another pen. “Fuck, I can’t ever find the—“ Jude looks up, staring at a pack of ‘Pendergast Writing Utensil’, “Son of a bitch, I like generic ass pens?”

  “What?” I chuckle, looking over their shoulder.

  “These pens are the ones that I used last year. They ran out of ink and I’ve been looking for them since.” They look at the package for a while, then turns to me, “Wanna split it?”

  “Sure, I got a couple bucks.” I grab my wallet from my back pocket that will inevitably shrink my leg due to always sitting on it. I read that happens somewhere.

  “Alrighty, let’s get out of here, I’m starving.” Jude says, walking past me, I follow after them.

  A burrito bowl sat in my lap in a brown paper bag. Jude’s tacos sat at my feet. We pull into their parking space, doors to the resident hall just ahead. Late afternoon, most students will still be at class.

  “Why me?” I ask again, remembering I didn’t get an answer earlier.

  “Because, I wanna do it with someone I can laugh with.” Jude says, smiling at me.

  “No I meant Inktober.” I say, trying to sound as small as possible.

  “I did mean Ink— shut the fuck up and eat your burrito bowl.” We laugh, the days events dull as we move through our time together.

—

The sun morphed the sky into a myriad of colors. Deep indigos gave way to a shining orange glow. The hills sang as the light breeze flew through the trees and across the deep cuts of land. I couldn’t move. My legs were numb from the settling blood. Tiny dull pins stabbed at my legs.

The paint on my canvas was a matte crimson. My mom wore a shade very similar on her lips, every time we went grocery shopping she put it on. I loved it, because she planted her lips all over my face, I always wore it like makeup. There’s a picture on my wall, just above my computer of my face filled with red ovals. My mom is next to me, she looks so sweet and happy. Her arms are around me, I have the biggest smile I’ve ever flashed. It was The Fourth and she put it on to chase me around my aunties yard. I ran, yelped, and giggled more than I ever have. I tripped on a twig and she held me down. I laughed as she planted her lips all over my face. We sat up, her lipstick was smudged, she hugged me and my brother took a picture of us. I looked so happy, my round face held up in a tight smile, my blonde hair, frizzy and unkempt. My mom and her short blonde hair, frazzled like it always was. Her smile was as big as mine. I miss her.

The cravings kept me up again, I sat with my leg bouncing for hours. Trying to get up and do something else, but all I could do was paint. The paint on my canvas was a matte crimson. The words I wrote asked if Jude was as fleeting as my mom.

Amber

#write #writers #writing #writeblr #literary fiction #fiction #short fiction #short story #short stories #queer #queer stories #romance #queer romance

[na-na-namine]

Operation: Confirm Amanda’s Love! Ch. 1

Series: Little Witch Academia

Characters: Akko/Amanda, Lotte, Sucy, Hannah, Chariot, Croix

Words: 1,540

Genres: Romance, Comedy

A/N: My super late LWA Secret Santa gift for https://twitter.com/r59k6

I’m sorry this took so long.The holiday season was rough and filled with stress and busywork. I’ll try to get chapter 2 finished as soon as I’m able, but this writer’s block isn’t making things easy.

Regardless, Happy New Year and I hope you enjoy this ^^;

————

Twas the day before Christmas, when all through Luna Nova,

Not a single witch was shopping, not even a for cola.

The candles were lit down the hallways since noon,

In hopes of presents that would arrive soon.

The witches were busy with handmade gifts,

As per tradition of the Academy's scripts.

And Akko in her coat and a red Santa hat,

Is dashing down the halls with a skip in her...

...uh, boots. That look like a... hat...

Yeah.

"Lotte! Sucy! Merry Christmas!"

Akko barges into their living quarters, startling both of her roommates. The sing-songy girl is carrying an armful of holiday-themed gift bags. Lotte places her book down to return the greeting.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Akko!"

"Pasko na naman, puta," Sucy mutters wearily in Tagalog.

"Sucy! Language."

"It's Christmas again, bi-"

Before Sucy could finish, Akko shoves a bag into her hands and then Lotte's.

"Aw, c'mon Sucy! It's the season of giving! How's about you not be a humbug for once?"

"No."

While the poison witch inspects the gift incredulously, Lotte opens her own. Inside were a bunch of sugar cookies, sprinkled with what appeared to be red and green stars.

"Wow! Akko, did you make these yourself?"

"Yep! Those baking lessons with Diana really paid off, huh?"

"I'll say," Lotte beams as she plops a cookie into her mouth. A delightful squeal escapes her lips as she savours the flavour. "Oh-my-stars, these are so~ good!"

"Eh. Six-outta-ten, too much milk," Sucy mumbles between bites.

Akko shoots her a dubious look.

"I should fill yours with raw plums next time."

Sucy's only response was a beleaguered shrug. Lotte shakes her head before smiling back to the brunette.

"Thank you so much, Akko! I wish I could give you your present now, but it's not done yet..."

"Ah, don't sweat it, Lotte. I still gotta deliver the rest of these, so you've got plenty of time to finish up!"

Lotte quickly looks over the gift bags in Akko's arms, noticing that someone was off.

"Where is Amanda's?"

Akko perks up from hearing her girlfriend's name.

"Oh, that? I'm not giving it to her yet."

Lotte and Sucy both share a confused glance.

"...Did you two break up again?" questions the latter.

"What? No!" Akko puffs out her cheeks in offense. "And what do you mean 'again'?"

"I'm just sayin- mmph!"

Lotte stuffs a half-eaten cookie into Sucy's mouth before jumping in.

"Did something happen between you two?"

Akko shakes her head before a massive grin stretches across her face.

"Nope! I'm just going to wait until Amanda gives me her present first."

"Um, why's that?"

"It's all part of 'Operation Confirm Amanda's Love on Christmas'!"

Lotte, at a clear loss of words, turns to her other roommate. Still chewing on Lotte's cookie, Sucy merely shrugs her shoulders.

"And, that is...?"

"It's self-explanatory," Akko answers with a fist-pump.

Sucy rolls her eyes. "Riiiiight..."

"Look, I friggin' love Amanda, almost as much as I love you guys! But she can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, y'know?"

"Understatement of the century- mmrph?!"

Lotte cuts off Sucy again with another cookie, her attention not leaving Akko.

"So this time," Akko continues, "I want her to be the one to find me first! That way I can be like, 'Wow, she really does loves me!' and stuff!"

Lotte shuffles on her chair anxiously. "I dunno about this, Akko. That seems like an unhealthy expectation. I mean, what if she's too busy or something?"

"Busy with what? Hitting on other girls?" Akko pouts. "Nah, it'll be fine! She'll pull through, you'll see!"

Sucy, having swallowed the cookies at last, rebuttals with deadpan disbelief.

"Or the two of you of break up agaaaaaannd she's gone."

Both she and Lotte looks on as their roommate dashes off, most likely to deliver the rest of her cookies.

"Gosh, I hope she's right," Lotte mutters with worry.

"Hrm. Knowing Amanda, there's no way she prepared anything."

Sucy gets up from her bed to walk over to Lotte's side. Her toothy grin makes the latter slightly uncomfortable.

"Um, Sucy...?"

"Anyway, I'll be getting my payback now for those cookies earlier."

Sucy wastes no time pinning the now flustered girl onto Akko's bed.

"H-huh? Wait, here? N-now?"

"Consider this your early Christmas gift."

"S-Sucy, maybe we can talk this over- mmph!"

Any objections Lotte might've had are smothered out by Sucy's lips on her own.

Amanda, being the self-proclaimed Ladies' Woman that she is, naturally expects a few girls to shower her with gifts. Tis' the season of giving and all that junk, she'd think. So if she isn't already surprised by that not happening, right now the fiery witch is receiving a gift from the last person she'd ever expect.

"The heck? Hannah England?"

The ginger witch in question has her hands extended out with a quaint present, wrapped neatly in a box. Her expression is cheerful, in contrast to her sarcastic demeanor.

"Here. For you."

Amanda begrudgingly accepts the gift, although she takes a moment to inspect it.

"You didn't rig this thing, did ya?"

Hannah's expression sours. "Merry Christmas to you too, jerkwad."

"Ha! Seeing your frowny face is enough reassurance," Amanda snarks as she tosses the gift up and down. Turning her back, she flicks her fingers in goodbye. "Smell ya later, carrot-head!"

However, she barely manages to strut three steps before Hannah speaks up again.

"You didn't prepare anything for Akko, did you?"

Amanda immediately halts in her tracks, turning her head to meet her accuser's gaze.

"Huh? Of course not."

Hannah stares and blinks vapidly for a few moments, before her lips curl into a sly smirk.

"Ooohhh~?" she hums. "I see, I see. Poor Akko..."

"Wait, what?"

"Knowing that girl, she'll be so sad that you didn't make her anything."

Amanda clicks her tongue in irritation. "Why am I the one who has to get her something?"

"You..." Hannah trails off, her eyes now glaring daggers into Amanda's soul. "...You really don't get it, do you?"

"Hmph," Amanda crosses her arms and prepares to walk away. "I don't wanna hear that from you."

"Then you'll hear it from Professor Ursula," Hannah remarks bitterly. It gets the reaction she expected, with Amanda stiffening in apparent fear.

Finally, she thinks to herself. Time to twist the knife.

"I can see it now! Akko running in tears to her precious Professor," the ginger exclaims in overdramatized acting.

"Now wait just a seco-!"

"Oh, poor Akko," Hannah says in her best Ursula impression. "Was it her? Was it Amanda that made you cry?"

Unfortunately for Amanda, those very words paint an image of a furious Shiny Chariot in her head. The same Chariot she once saw punch a massive dragon with her bare hands. These thoughts send a shiver down her spine.

"Who knows what'll happen if you piss off the professor like that," Hannah sneers, "and it'll only be a matter of time before everyone else finds out."

Against her better judgement, Amanda allows Hannah's words to sink in.

Ugh, this is why Christmas sucks. But, Akko might really be waiting for me, so...

...

...Dammit!

"I can probably stop by the town square or something..."

Hannah shakes her head. "Handmade gifts only, remember?"

"Shit, stupid rules." Amanda pulls out her wand with a new idea. "Maybe I can-"

"You sure it's a good idea to cut corners like that?"

Amanda bites her lip, the frustration of wracking her brain getting to her. Then what the hell is magic good for?

Hannah can't help but sigh pitifully. "Something like cookies would work, right? Akko's were really good, y'know?"

All of a sudden, Amanda perks up. "Cookies?"

Wait, wasn't it Diana who taught Akko how to bake?

With a new plan in mind, Amanda sets off past Hannah for real this time.

"Good luck!" Hannah cheers in near-feigned enthusiasm. "Better hope you're not too late, hun."

"Achoo!"

Chariot sneezes into her elbow, making sure not to sully the cookies she just received from Akko.

"Wow, that was quite the blast, Chariot," chuckles a voice off to the side.

"It's 'bless you', Croix."

Said ex-professor pays the advice no heed, simply content in enjoying her own Akko-made cookies.

"I gotta say," Croix speaks through bites, "these cookies aren't half bad."

Chariot nods. "Right? Also, don't talk with your mouth ful-"

"But do you know what's better?"

"Croix, no."

Reaching behind her, Croix grabs an unopened cup of instant ramen and presents it Chariot with a grin.

"Cookie ramen."

Chariot frowns disapprovingly.

"Croix, please."

The older woman merely shrugs as she leaves her seat, most likely to fetch some hot water for her ramen. Chariot rolls her eyes, her attention now on the sunset beyond the windowsill.

"I'm still worried about Akko and Ms. O'Neill's relationship..."

"Oh, those two?" Croix remarks across the room. "I'm surprised they're still together after their third breakup."

"Third?"

"I've had my broombas keep tabs. Say, where do you keep the eggnog?"

The only response she got is a thrown book to her skull.

"Ow!"

"You're a terrible person, you know that?" Chariot deadpans.

"Sheesh," Croix groans while rubbing her head. "No eggnog for you, then."

---

To be continued...

#little witch academia #lwa #lwasanta #g #gift #amandakko #christmas #fanfic #fanfiction

[abadoodlesss]

Sometimes The Job’s Worth It - Chapter Nine

Tag List: @jadepc @mypage-myfandoms @bellero @colie87  

Read previous chapters here!

Next: Chapter 10

Summary: Jane’s getting a bit of cabin fever ever since the boys started being more protective (i.e. keeping her in the Bunker) but not to worry, just because the Winchesters tell her to stay put doesn’t mean she’s gonna listen.

The sun shone brightly on the sleek exterior of the Impala as the rumble of the engine died down. The boys climbed out of the car in perfect synchronization, as they often did.

The two just got back from a neighboring town. There’s been a series of disappearances in the past month that’s left everyone confused and more importantly, terrified. Sam and Dean heard about the case while on a mid-week grocery shopping run a few days ago and instantly knew they had to get to the bottom of it. Unfortunately, they had no leads yet and already two more people had gone missing.

They entered the Bunker to find Cas and Jane at the war room table, playing a game of poker.

Dean was glad to find the two hanging out together. Cas was starting to stay at the Bunker more and more often, mostly to keep an eye on Jane when the boys had to leave. Dean hated keeping Jane locked away like some prisoner but he was pleased, a bit surprised, to find Cas made good company. He felt a little less guilty keeping her here now that he knew she wasn’t completely bored out of her mind.

“Hey guys!” Jane called, maintaining intense eye contact with the angel in an attempt to intimidate him, but she was starting to think Cas wasn’t capable of being anything but neutral.

“Hey, Jane.” Sam said as he shrugged off his coat. “How’s the game going?” He asked as Dean walked behind Cas, trying to communicate to Jane what cards Cas had in his hand.

“I’d say pretty good.” Jane replied as she laid down her cards, three aces and two queens. Cas showed his hand, all miscellaneous cards.  

“I don’t think I understand the rules of this game.” Cas admitted as Jane started to shuffle once more.

“Deal me in.” Dean said taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Don’t you think we have more important things to be doing?” Sam asked. They still had so much work left to do regarding the disappearances, they didn’t have time to waste playing poker.

“Right.” Dean muttered reluctantly, getting up out of his chair.

“Is something going on?” Jane asked hesitantly. She was always suspicious that the boys were talking about her situation. Every time they wanted to talk privately she was sure they were talking about her and what they could possibly do with her. Part of her felt she deserved to be part of the conversation, to hear everything upfront. The other part of her, however, thought she was better off not knowing.

Dean sensed Jane’s fear immediately. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re working on a case from a few towns over. We’re still trying to get to the bottom of everything.” He explained.

Sam glared at his brother. They decided that they would keep Jane away from anything and everything paranormal. Sam made Dean promise just days ago that they wouldn’t tell her anything about their cases and only involve her with the Michael/Lucifer situation if it was absolutely necessary for her safety. He thought it was best if Jane was distanced as far as possible from the world of supernatural creatures.

“Need any help?” She asked.

This was exactly why Sam didn’t want Jane to know anything about their cases, not even that one was going on. That girl was curious, which Sam admired. Jane was always trying to learn more and educate herself. But that can prove to be dangerous as her curiosity leads her to being involved in some seriously unsafe situations.

“I think we’ve got it covered.” Sam interjected before Dean could say anything stupid.

“C’mon, I have nothing better to do. Beating Cas gets boring after the thirty-somethingth time.” Jane joked. “Besides, if you’re stuck maybe you could use a fresh perspective.” She said, beginning to pack away that cards as she stood up.

“We appreciate it, Jane, but we’re all set.” Sam said, practically dragging Dean away.

Jane slumped back into her chair as she watched the brothers retreat.

Turning to Cas she said, “Wanna play go fish?”

Hours passed and so did card games. Cas was actually surprisingly good at go fish. After Jane explained the rules and that they would in fact not be going outside to fish, he caught on fast. He was even able to beat her a few times. War and Blackjack were different stories, however.  

Sam and Dean were still in the library, trying to find anything that would help them in their case. Even from this far away, Jane could make out little exasperated sighs and the slamming of books being closed and tossed around when deemed unuseful.  

After a particularly loud grumble, Jane saw the brothers emerge from the library.

The boys looked like they aged ten years in the few hours they’d been in there. Sam’s hair was a little messy, probably because he ran his fingers through it every time he got frustrated.

“Any progress?” Jane called. She didn’t mean anything by it, well maybe only as a little jab. She was certain that if they just let her help, they’d be able to get to the bottom of whatever this case was. Jane didn’t doubt that the Winchesters knew what they were doing, they were professionals after all, but she’s helped before and she could do it again.

Sam sent her an annoyed look but Jane chose to think that he was more annoyed with the case than her asking. He wiped away his crabby expression quickly, though, forcing a pleasant one instead as he explained, “We’re getting there”.

“Cas, we’re gonna head out for a little bit, check out the town’s library to get more info.” Dean called, throwing on his jacket.

“I could use some fresh air, I’ll come too.” Jane said, hopping out of her seat.

“No!” The Winchesters yelled in unison.

Realizing that was a little too aggressive, Dean tried to recover by saying, “I just mean uh- you don’t want to go to some boring old library, right?”

“That actually sounds like fun, I could borrow a good book.”

“We can check something out for you.” Sam said.

“Or I could just come with you. I don’t see what the big deal is.” Jane said.

She could understand that the boys wanted to keep her safe, she wasn’t arguing that. It’s just the way they tried to do it that bothered her. Keeping her locked away wasn’t going to do anything besides drive her mad. And it angered her even more because they were pretending that that's not exactly what they’re doing.

The boys couldn’t think of anything to say. Jane just rolled her eyes and let a defeated sigh out. There was no use in arguing.

“You know, never mind. I’ll find something to do here, I guess.”

“Don’t sound so sad, kid.” Dean said, reaching out an arm to pull Jane into a side hug, but she dodged him.

“See you when you get back.” She spoke, plopping down in a seat, her back to them. She was sure to make her tone even sadder than before.

Jane didn’t need to turn around to know the brothers’ faces were filled with guilt.

They both stared at her for a moment, again trying to think of something to say to ease the tension, but nothing came to mind.

Dean gave Cas a pat on the shoulder before heading out.

“You know, they do care about you.” Cas said as he heard the Impala retreating down the road. “They’re only trying to protect you.”

“If by protected you mean locked away like a princess in a tower,” Jane mumbled under her breath, but Cas heard her.

“They’re doing the best they can, you have to understand that.”

Jane knew Cas was right and just trying to help but she wasn’t ready to listen to it. She wanted to yell at Cas for trying to be the voice of reason, for being on their side. She almost did. But looking into his soft eyes, Jane couldn’t bring herself to yell. It wasn’t Cas she was mad at, hell it wasn’t even the Winchesters she was really mad at either. It was whoever got her into this mess in the first place.

“Can I just be left alone for a little while?”

Cas nodded. “If you need me, just call.”

And then he was gone.

Without wasting a single second, Jane was out of her seat and running into the library. She wasn’t about to sit around a mope while she waited for the Winchesters to come back. Maybe they could keep her from going outside, but they weren’t going to keep her from doing what she wanted inside the Bunker. Seems like a fair trade.

In the library, Jane could see a table covered in papers and books. Taking a closer look, she could see reports printed out, detailing missing persons cases as well as short biographies of the men who had gone missing.

Jane could assume that the men weren’t just missing, something much more sinister must have happened.

In skimming through the articles and biographies written about the men, the only similarities Jane could find were that they were all married and lived in the town. No wonder the boys were so stressed out, there was nothing.

Jane wasn’t going to give up, though. Maybe if she helped with this case and got to the bottom of things, the Winchesters would let her help out on more cases, let her go beyond the walls of the bunker. Okay, maybe that was pushing it, but at the very least they’d probably see her as less of a little girl and more of an asset to the team.

Thankfully, Sam left his laptop on and open, so Jane opened a tab and started searching. She thought to check for monsters that only target men, not anticipating how many man-hating monsters were out there. She found a pad of paper and a pencil and got to work, writing down each monster that fit the very broad criteria. She took to Wikipedia and countless conspiracy theory websites, but she couldn’t be sure if anything she was reading was too credible. Cross-referencing with some pretty legit looking mythology websites, Jane collected notes about each monster, trying to narrow down which could be taking these men. Her list alone almost took up two pages and her notes added at least another seven.

She could tell this was going to be a grueling process, but she remained determined.

Unfortunately, Jane was cut short when she heard a voice calling, “Cas? Jane?”

Sam and Dean were home.

Quickly, Jane exited every tab she’d opened on Sam’s laptop, frantically erasing the search history as to not leave a single trace of her sleuthing. She put papers back in the order she thought they were in earlier, not having time to second guess herself. Scrambling to gather her notes, Jane ran out of the library sure to grab a book from the shelf Sam dedicated to non-lore-related books.

Jane shoved her notes in between the pages of the book just in time to run into the boys.

Both brothers looked relieved to see Jane turn the corner, but it was soon replaced by agitation.

“We’ve been calling your name for like three minutes.” Sam started.

“When you weren’t answering and Cas wasn’t here,” Dean sighed. “We got worried, kid.” “Sorry,” Jane said, showing them the book she grabbed. “I was just in the library-”

Jane noticed the way Sam’s face contorted as she revealed where she was.

“Promise I didn’t mess with your stuff, I was only trying to find a book to read or something to do since I couldn’t come to the library with you guys.” She said, taking them on a full guilt trip as a way to distract Sam from his anger.

“Right,” Dean said after a moment. “Well, we uh- we better get back to work.”

The two retreated into the library where they would spend almost the rest of the night.

Jane spent the night going through the rest of her list.

Someone was going to get to the bottom of this case, and Jane will be damned if it isn’t her.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #in a family friendly platonic way #sister winchester #reader #oc #daughter winchester #lucifer #michael #archangles #angels #demons

[megansambuca]

Get Lucky

SimonXReader Smut

Sitting in the local dive bar absentmindedly twirling my wrist making the my patron swirl around the glass before downing the rest of it. Rubbing my forehead man was today a shitty. Waving down the bar tender he comes over pouring me another glass. The bar stool next to me groaned slightly as someone sat on it. Not paying any attention, I placed the glass to my lips taking a swig. Setting my cup down on the napkin. Looking to the TV as they talk about this new disease making people attack others.

“Why the long face sweetheart?” A man voice came from the bar stool next to me. Rolling my eyes, as I turn my head to look at him. He was balding stumbled with a mustache.  He had a pair of jeans on and a black shit underneath a leather coat that had a fleece collar.

“I doubt you actually care,” I scoff at him. “But just to entertain you, work.”

“You’re a little feisty aren’t ya?” He says holding his beer to his lips. I finish the rest of my patron. I was not leaving this bar without being drunk. That’s why I came here I don’t live far a taxi would only cost maybe twenty bucks at most with tip. Lifting my hand to get another drink. “What are you drinking?”

“Patron,” Looking at the bar tender who acknowledged me, but was making another drink for someone.

“You’re a girl after my heart,” He smirks.”Tequila is my personal favorite, but let me recommend Don Julio. Has a better taste and it warms on the way down.” He leans in  I couldn’t help but smile at the way he said Tequila. The bartender comes over  about to poor me more Patron. “No, get her Don Julio on me.”

“So, anyway what’s your name?” Raising a eyebrow as the bartender set my glass in front of me.

“Simon, and you are sweetheart?” He was still leaning close to me.

“_____, but sweetheart is fine.” Flirting back why the hell not, might as well have some fun tonight. He was a Attractive man built well gave off that alpha male aura. Lifting the glass up to my lips smelling before taking a drink. It had a bite not as smooth as Patron but the flavor was nicer. “Got to head it too you, Simon. You have good taste in liquor.” He placed his arm on the back of my bar stool as I turned my body more to him.

“What can I say, I have good taste in general.” He says clearing looking me up and down, I could feel the buzz in my system and I knew if I drunk much more I’d be wasted.

“Want a taste? You did pay for it.” Taking another sip, I lean closer, smelling the beer on his breath. Leaving my tongue linger on my lips momentarily. Letting him lean in closer to me tilting my head slightly. Feeling his lips press on my softly. His tongue licked my lower lip, opening my mouth slightly. Before pulling back looking at him from the corner of my eye turning my head licking my lips.

“Wanna get out of here sweetheart?” His lips touched my ear as he whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Smiling as I leave a tip. Throwing the rest of my drink back. The bartender had my card for my tab. I followed Simon out of the bar and opened his truck door letting me get in. It wasn’t long before we pulled into his place. Following him into the house biting my lip as he slid his coat off. He also slid his boots off, so I did the same.Turning to me he raise a eyebrow.

“Well, come here ___?” He beckons me with his fingers. Following his command, walking over to him placing my hands on chest gently rubbing through the fabric.I felt him grab my hips. Looking up to him kissing him. He turned me around pushing me through a door frame. He pulled away pulling his shirt off. Lifting mine I follow suit. He backs me up into a dresser. Lifting me up so I was sitting on the dresser. Using my legs to pull him closer to me as he began to kiss my neck. Softly moaning, as he undoes my bra.  He pulls away looking at me. I returned the favor looking over him. He worked out for sure, the hair one his chest thinned over his stomach only to thicken under his navel leading down. Subconsciously I licked my lips.”You want to have a taste?” He teases me, I quickly lift my eyes away from his crotch,

“Maybe I do,” I raise my eyebrows undoing his belt in one quick motion. Slowly unzipping his pants rubbing my hand into his pants. Leaning closer to him I kiss his neck flicking my tongue. Pushing his pants and boxer briefs down. Holding him in my hand rubbing I smile as he groans. It was always great to have a man react to you. “Can I, please Simon?” Ask knowing the answer, but wanting to tease him. He didn’t even answer pulling me off the dresser and pushing me to my knees. Taking my tongue sliding it from the base to the tip swirling it around the head purposely going as slow as I could.

“Sweetheart, you better stop teasing me.” His voice was low and demanding.

“Or what?” I say  kissing his head before turning my head slightly so I could wrap my lips around the side of his member sliding my head up and down. Pulling away slightly.

“I going to punish you that’s what,” He grunt grabbing my hair. This time I slide my mouth around him hollowing my cheeks to give him more pleasure. “Fuck you are good at this,” He said  I look up from under my lashes. He was watching me intently. Rubbing him with my hand as well he  groan pulling me away. “Get up,” He demand I did as told. He undid my jeans pulling them off quickly. He ran his fingers over me, causing a whimper to escape my limps.

“Simon,” I moan softly.

“I’m not even doing anything yet.” He lifts me back onto the dresser. Lower himself in between my legs. He flicked his tongue over my clit cause me to gasp leaning back onto the mirror that attached to the dresser. He continued doing so until I was right on my edge.

“Please don’t stop Simon,” I groaned as he pulled away.

“No, No I want to feel you cum when I’m inside of you.” He stands reaching into a draw grabbing a condom sliding it on. He pulls me from the dresser turning me around, pushing me over it. Looking at him in the mirror I could see him rubbing my ass. The look on his face was pure lust and need. Before he raised his hand coming down with a loud smack.

“Simon,” I yelped, he looked up making eye contact with me through the mirror.  A big devilish smile spread across his face as he positioned himself sliding into me. Opening my mouth with a loud gasp as he shove his entire length into me.

“You feel so good Sweetheart.” He grunts as I arch my back closing my eyes. He start slow and hard.

“Simon faster, Please!” I yelp as he smacks my ass again I place one hand on the mirror bracing myself. He starts fucking me so fast I can’t keep up bracing myself against him. I open my eyes, looking to him in the mirror. He was watching me watching my face contour in pleasure as he slammed inside of me. He was enjoying the show he was putting on for himself. Finally I feel over the edge cumming on him.”Oh fuck!” I let my body go limp for a few seconds on the dresser as he kept going. He grabbed my hair pulling me back up, I stared at him in the mirror as intensely as he stared at me watching him fuck me as hard as he could until. He closed his eyes tilting his head back.

“___!” He moaned pushing himself as deep as he could inside of me. I could feel his cock throbbing. He pulled out,” God damn, that’s the best pussy I’ve had in a long time.” He smacks my ass again I stood up.

“You’re dick wasn’t so bad either,” I chuckle.

“I’m pretty sure it had you begging for more,” He tossed the condom looking at me. I go to pick up clothes, “Where do you think you’re going?” He grabs me from behind.

“Home,” I say bluntly.

“Who said I was done with you? I might want round two.” He pulls me to the bed. I couldn’t help, but moan with his roughness. It wasn’t long before we had a round two. Waking I heard a bang it sounded like a gunshot. I sit straight up, looking to Simon. Who was still knocked out.

“Simon!” I shake him till he wakes.

“What you want more?” He teases.

“No, I heard a gunshot,” I state.

“You’re crazy not in this neighborhood.” He starts another one going off,” What the fuck!” He gets up peaking out of the blinds. “Sweetheart, we got to go now!” He said grabbing his clothes from last night throwing them on. He reached into his drawer grabbing a gun and a large hunting knife. Following his lead I put my clothes back on looking to him. “Here,” He hands my a pocket knife and a book bag. He begins to pack another bag with a change of clothes for him. I just stared.

“Go get food medicine anything that could be useful out of kitchen and bathroom!” I didn’t know his house but just decided to ransack the kitchen and until I found the bathroom not looking I just throw any medicine and food into my bag. “Lets go ___!” I hurry to his side. Still not sure whats going on I put my sneakers back on. “Stay by my sweetheart okay?”

 “Okay, what’s happening?” I finally speak.

“I don’t know, we are going straight to the truck do not stop.” I nod as he opens the door. I see people attack people biting them eating them. A little girl stood in the middle of the street. I gasped, She looked turning around half of her face was gone. I froze as she began walking to me. “Hey!” I look to Simon I run to his truck. Now multiple of them where headed our way. He backed out speeding out of the neighbor hood.

That’s how I met Simon at the beginning and to be honest. It was the best choice I could of made to go home with him that night. I probably wouldn’t be alive today, he has saved my ass so many times. I was laying in our bed watching Simon sleep. Someone where along the way I feel in love with him. I don’t know when and I know he might not even return the feelings, but I loved him. Smiling as he rolls slightly in his sleep. I place a kiss softly on his temple. Before rolling back over to try and go back to sleep. I felt him move closer wrapping his arm around me.

“I love you,” I whisper softly to the sleeping man.

“What?” I hear say abruptly.

“Nothing,” I blush looking at him. “I said I love this.”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure I heard, I love you.” He says as I roll to look at him. Hearing him say those words made my heart flip.

“I thought you where sleeping,” I mumble placing my forehead on his chest embarrassed.

“Hey, it’s okay ____. I love you too sweetheart.” He rubbed the back of my head. I look up smiling kissing him roughly. Allowing him to pull me on top of him. “Well, Damn. If I knew I’d get morning sex I would told you that a long time ago.” He chuckles kissing me roughly.

Hearing a knock and then the door opens. “Well, hot damn!” I hear Negan’s voice loud as can be. I pulled away turning to look at Negan  I only had a bra and underwear on and Simon doesn’t sleep in clothes. My eyes widen and I freeze looking to Simon I could see the frustrated look on his face, As he pulled the blanket up over my shoulders moving me off. He sits up looking at Negan who had shut the door behind him. “Don’t stop on my account.” Negan had that perverted smile on his face.

“Fuck you Negan,” I laugh now that I was covered. I didn’t mind him being in here.

“Is that a offer because I can join or replace.” He winks chuckling. “Simon seriously I need you downstairs As soon as possible.” Negan walks out of the room.

“He is such a ass,” I groan looking at Simon.” I guess we’ll have to wait, until you get back handsome.” 

“He can wait five minutes.” Simon says, grabbing me. He wastes no time moving my underwear to the side and  thrusting into me. I gasp at the sudden intrusion. He kisses me  roughly placing his large rough hand around my neck. Squeezing slightly as he pounded into me. I moan feeling my throat vibrate against his hand.  He pulled out cumming on my thigh.

“Damn Simon, I thinks that’s the quickest we’ve ever had sex.” I say kissing him as he pulls his pants on with a little hop.

“I wasn’t letting, Negan cock block me and give me blue balls.“ He throws his shirt on quickly. “ But, this isn’t over you better be ready when I get back.” He smirks,“because you’re getting extra attention tonight.”

I smile as he leaves the room. To think all of this because I let a stranger Get Lucky years ago.

#simon #walking dead #twd #negan #cock block #smutt #reader #X #before and after #zombies

[feverhalo]

@taylor-tut said: FMA PROMPTS?! YES. Okay, so what about something where Ed and roy have to go on a mission together and the evening before, Ed starts to feel sick. He tells Roy, but he doesn't believe him and thinks he's trying to get out of the mission. He chalks Ed's listlessness and lack of focus up to a hissy fit. But eventually Ed is like "I cant--it's hard to think" while they're talking and roy realizes that he's burning up, and worse, they're in a motel with no air conditioning and it's hot as hell.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE FMA PROMPTS. I have like 4 on the go and still tried to do this one short’n’sweet but it got longish and ????

Thank you so much for the prompt! It was really fun to get to sit down and see something from start to finish again. I hope its enjoyable!

“Are you sure we can’t put the mission off for like, another week or two? C’mon Mustang,” Ed said holding his hands apart. “Al and I have to fix up where we’re staying and take back all these books before Winry gets here-”

“You really should just keep on top of your responsibilities. Honestly, by now the military’s schedule in your life should be making some difference. Its been how many years?” Mustang leaned back in his chair with crossed arms. Beside him, Havoc reached across the table to grab a copy of the next day’s itinerary.

“Says you,” Ed snorted harshly through his nose, “you’re name is more synonymous with ‘procrastination’ than any other word I’ve ever heard. Seriously, Winry’ll kill me if she gets here and its a mess.”

“More so than ‘bastard’?” Mustang slapped at Havoc’s arm and the man’s laughter lapsed into a rough hacking cough.

“Don’t encourage him. Fullmetal, this mission is unavoidable. I’ve had direct paperwork handed to me from General Grumman,” Roy smacked the back of his hand at the reports he held, “These rebel attacks can’t keep going this way.”

“So surprise them in a week. Make them think they got away with it, then wreck their shit. I don’t see what is so damn hard about changing the day.”

“Suck it up, Ed. No way, no how is Mustang going to be able to change it. The General kicked his ass in a match last week, so he- OW!”

“That’s quite enough, Havoc. Take your notes and go pick up something for the office, on my tab.” Mustang waved Havoc on.

“Alright,” Havoc pulled out a smoke as he walked past Ed. He gave Ed a solid nudge, “I know everyone’s go-to orders but yours, want anything special Ed? The Boss is paying.”

“I don’t care, whatever is fine.” Ed folded his automail hand under his chin as he stared down at his papers. He sighed through his nose and shut his eyes, eyebrows scrunching together. Havoc slapped his palm on the top of Ed’s head and gave him a gentle shove.

“Alright, geeze don’t work too hard, you’re putting me to shame.” Havoc gave a half-assed salute and left, “See ya .”

  --------

“Memorized it yet?” Ed groused, chin on the table inches away from his unopened take-out.

“Have you?” Mustang snarked, “Or are you still hoping I’ll let you slack off?”

“Oh yeah, committed it to memory,” Ed sneered. “Stupid ass idea, they’ll be expecting us. It’s a straight retaliatory action- its insulting. Jump, boy, jump.”

“You’re getting it,” Mustang shook his head at Ed, who dropped his forehead to the table and snarked under his breath into the wood.

“Can I go now? This is stupid, we’re just going there to hand their asses to them and get rocks thrown at us, again.”

“Finish the briefing, and finish your dinner. Honestly- boy genius, smart enough to transmute without a circle. And you still need to be told to eat your vegetables.” Mustang nudged Ed’s food towards him. “Its boring, but its procedure. Trust me, it’s a lot less fun with every other Colonel out there.”

“I don’t want it, I just want to go.” Ed whined, but pushed himself off the table anyway. He opened the container and poked at his food. “Can we just put it off a couple days? I really don’t…“

“Don’t what, Fullmetal?” Mustang sighed. The rest of the office had broken into their mission groupings and were going over the details, and he and Ed were to be the main attacking force come the next day. Ed fidgeted under the silence; he pushed his bangs off his face and let his eyes dart around. After a few false starts, Ed finally answered.

“I really don’t feel right,” he finally mumbled leaning across the desk as much as he could. He kept his eyes down. “Not- not about it being a stupid military tantrum response, just- just in general.”

“Right,” Mustang kept his stare level with Ed’s despite the young man’s desperate attempt to hide between his own shoulders. His voice was flat as he continued, “Tomorrow. Eleven A.M.- go get yourself sorted for it. Break up all those ‘things’ you an Alphonse need to do, I’m sure he can deal with some chores and Miss Rockbell for the few days we’ll be gone.”

“Huh?”

“Go on,” Mustang was leafing through his papers with little interest. He flicked his eyes up and lifted Ed’s takeout to hold it out to him. “I’m not dealing with your tantrum while I have to plan.”

“F-fine,” Ed glared as he snatched the box from Mustang and stomped away.

“Eleven A.M. sharp; you show up late, I’m putting you in charge of garbage disposal for the entire floor.” Mustang didn’t even blink as Ed slammed the door behind him.

 ---------------

 “Eleven-twenty-three, Fullmetal,” Ed slammed the car door after he sat down. “What did I say last night?”

“Shut up and just drive, okay?” Ed stomped his foot and gestured out the front windscreen, “Go! Drive! If its such a big hurry, go.”

“You’re really testing me,” Mustang threw the car into gear. The tires squealed as they lurched forward and sped off.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ed slunk down in his seat and planted his feet on the passenger-side dash. He crossed his arms and plonked his forehead against the window to watch the city speed by.

“Punctuality is a core value in the military. How many times do I need to spell it out,” Mustang slapped the steering wheel with each sentence, “Are you trying to embarrass me? Make out our team as a joke? You went to the briefing, and were nearly half an hour late to the mission start.”

Ed snarked quietly, mocking Mustang’s rant while the Colonel dragged his hand down his face.

“I am not a babysitter. Do you hear me? I am not dealing with you being a brat. Curb your attitude before we get there.” From the edge of his vision Roy saw Ed roll his eyes and scooch further down into his seat.

“Sorry, geeze.” Ed mumbled, his words barely louder than the engine’s noise.

 --------------------------

 “…Damn brat. He shows up late and throws a fit.” Ed stretched as the conversation nearby flitted into his awareness. “The delay wasn’t too bad. We’re just a few blocks away now, at a payphone. You’re set?... And Havoc’s group? Good.”

Ed stretched his neck to let him look out the window. The sun hung low in the sky; a mess of oranges and purples bleeding between the buildings. Mustang stood a few feet away with the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear.

“Hey,” Mustang half turned at Ed’s voice. “Hey, are we there now? ‘wanna get out n stretch.”

“A few more blocks,” Mustang turned back to the phone, “Yeah that’s him now. See you tomorrow.”

Roy made his way back into the car. Ed groaned, all his muscles were locked up from sleeping in the car and his ports ached fiercely from inactivity. He gave a longing look to the sidewalk as the car rumbled to life, but couldn’t find it in him to ask to get out now.

‘Just a few more blocks, right?’ Ed shut his eyes as the car drove. The lingering haze of sleep and zooming scenery made his head spin. He hoped tomorrow morning would be smoother than the mess this morning, and nap, had been. The world was still askew when Mustang parked the car, but the freedom to stretch and walk off some of the aching held more power than the dizziness.

“You aren’t even listening, are you?” Ed startled and whirled around. “I’ll take that as a no. I’ll go over it, again, once we’re checked in.”

The check-in process was easy enough. Ed stared at a spot on the floor, zoned out until Mustang gave him a light push forward towards their room. The far corner of the first-floor hallway, a square little room with small windows high up on the cream walls.

Ed chucked his bag on top of one of the hand-stitched quilt covered twin beds in the room. Mustang dropped his to the top of the dresser and turned to Ed. He found Ed laying with his head hanging upside-down off the bed staring at him and picking idly at his bag beside him.

“Theres been some construction that is going to complicate the mission. Why it wasn’t in our intel is beyond me. It may drag it out a day or two more,” Ed huffed and rolled onto his stomach and pillowed his head on his arms. “We’re going to meet earlier tomorrow to try and plan around it. I’m- really at a loss. The one main road is out due to flooding from that last attack, and now the other is under construction. For now, we need to figure out what to do about that.”

“Mmmh.”

“Focus, Fullmetal.” Ed lifted his eyes to glare at Roy. Mustang leaned back with his arms crossed loosely. “I’m banking on more than just your ability to fight here.”

“I can’t-” Ed dropped his head to the bed again and stared at Mustang sidelong.

“Can’t?” Roy stood up from his lazy lean against the dresser. His brows furrowed and he sighed, “The longer you ‘can’t’ the longer the mission will be. I’m trying to work it out-I don’t want to waste the time or resources either.”

“No, not like that. Everything just-” Ed squinted and waved his flesh hand in a strange little wiggle. He let his hand fall and silence stole the room for a short moment.

“I don’t feel right.” Ed finally said in a small voice. “I can’t… I can’t see straight, let alone think.”

Mustang dropped his shoulders and stepped towards where Ed was laying. He dropped to a crouch beside the blond. Looking closer, Ed’s eyes were glassy and dark despite all the sleep on the drive over. He looked almost greasy with a thin layer of sweat- not entirely unwarranted in the summer heat- across his tense brow. Mustang reached forward to help pull Edward up to a sitting position. Ed groaned but pushed himself up with little prodding.

“What now? I am listening, I’m laying down but I’m listening.” Roy bit the tip of the finger on his left glove and slipped it off while steadying Ed with his right. Ed complained to himself until he noticed Mustang’s hand in his peripheral and flinched away. “What are you doing?”

“Sit still for a second,” He pressed his palm to Ed’s forehead only to have it pushed away immediately with the mismatched pair of Ed’s hands. “Fullmetal, so help me- if you’ve got a fever I need to know how bad it is.”

“I-I-!” Ed stammered and backed up. Ed pressed the back of his fingers to his own cheek. “One second. I’m just- I’m tired. I don’t know, do I have a fever?”

“Yeah,” Roy pressed his palm to Ed’s forehead again. Ed let his hand drop to hold on to the edge of the bed and leaned forward. Mustang shifted to crouch on his one knee on the floor and moved his hand to the Ed’s cheek, and finally to the back of his neck. Ed’s face and neck were damp with sweat and the head was constant Roy frowned, “Damn. And here I thought you were just being a brat to annoy me. Wait here.”

Mustang stood up and Ed slouched further. Ed shrugged his shoulders as a chill washed over him and pulled his legs back onto the bed. Mustang shut the door behind him as he left and Ed laid down on his side.

Ed curled into himself; using his bag as a pillow he shuddered through another chill with his eyes scrunched closed. He let them drift open slowly and took in the swirling mess of the surroundings. When his vision stopped twisting, the room and modest decoration focused. He let out a groan of frustration. Everything ached and his head felt so slow and useless.

“Back. Here,” Roy opened the door to Ed curled up tight on the bed in the smallest ball he seemed to be able to manage. He stood there; casual shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows with extra towels draped over one arm and a glass of water in hand. Ed rolled to glare at the Colonel before pushing himself up again.

“I really thought you’d get yourself ready for bed, or at least move your things while I was out.” Mustang watched Ed’s back rise and fall for a few moments before he put down his armload of items. He shook his head, lifted the phone off the small writing desk in the room, and dialed out to the number Riza had provided on their last call.

Ed tuned him out. He shut his eyes and focused on his misery. His ports continued to protest the lack of movement, and he felt the blanket beneath him trap the heat from his body. The room was stagnant and warm and uncomfortable. Mustang’s stupid voice whispered in the background and the electric lights buzzed a low, irritating hum.

“…have to reschedule, its unavoidable…”

Ed shuddered though another chill. He groaned out loud; his fever must have gotten worse since that morning.

“…got to be at least 102. No, he wouldn’t…”

He groped behind him for the edge of the stitched-square quilt and pulled it over himself. He tugged it up over his head and put his hand over his ear to block Mustang out. His body pulsed in time with his heart, and as uncomfortable as it was it couldn’t keep him from falling asleep.

 ------------------------

 “I’ll be owing him favors for years, I know. I really don’t know what else to do. I’ll have to reschedule, it’s unavoidable.” Mustang heard Ed move around and grumble to himself.

“Is it really that bad, sir? Everything seemed fine this morning.” Riza’s voice crackled over the phone line.

“He’s got a fever, its got to be at least 102.”

“You’ve checked?”

“No, he wouldn’t have let me even if I could. He’s burning, its got to be around there.” He watched Ed’s hand slide across the thin quilt. The boy got a hold of one of the seams on the blanket and tugged it over himself. Roy pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at his forehead. “I’ve got to go. Let the others know.”

“Goodnight, sir.” Mustang hung up the phone and turned to watch the lump that was Ed. He turned back to the desk and dialed out to a secure line to Grummun’s office.

 -------------

 Roy finally stretched up from the desk; a number of promises he’d rather not make, a rehashing a few of Edward’s points from the day before on stalling the mission, and a conversation far too long at this hour of the night with the eccentric General bought some time.

Mustang walked over to where Ed snored beneath the blanket and pulled it down to the boy’s shoulder. Ed’s hair was a frizzed mess and his face was now flushed red. Roy pressed the back of his hand to Ed’s cheek again only to shake his head at the heat. He grabbed a towel from the pile of what he had brought back and stepped into the bathroom to wet it.

Mustang flicked the lights off when he came back into the main room. He took a seat on the free bed and leaned over to smooth the wet towel across Ed’s burning forehead.

“What am I going to do with you,” he leaned his head in the palm of his hand. “Should be half delirious from fever and still giving better ideas than half the military…”

Ed shuddered under the blanket and rolled to his back. The movement knocked the blanket askew and left Ed half covered with his stomach bared to the warmth of the night. Roy tugged on the hem of the boy’s shirt with a quiet laugh to himself before tuning in for the night as well.

#fma fanfic #fma sickfic #sickfic #feverfic #sick edward elric #edward elric #parental!roy #fh fic #trying to get over the stalled out nonsense i keep gettin stuck in #so im super sorry its like not super edited and its a one and done

[saxonspud]

The Outlaw and the Treasure Hunter - Chapter 34 - A Good Man

Izzy paced up and down, arms folded across her chest. She’d been doing this for the past hour. Looking down the track, waiting for Josiah to return. She still wasn't convinced that Hosea’s brother could be trusted. She still thought that there was a pretty good chance he’d absconded with the sapphire. I mean, who wouldn’t. One man could do a lot with that sort of money.

She snapped her head around, when she heard someone approaching her from behind.

Dutch smiled, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into his chest.

“Pacing up and down wont make him return any faster, you know,” he whispered, placing a kiss on Izzy’s temple.

Izzy sighed, “I know. I cant stand all this waiting around though!”

Dutch gently turned Izzy around so she was facing him. He cupped her face in his hands.

“It’s gonna be ok Izzy. Whether we get the Sapphire back or not, we’ll be ok!” He soothed.

Izzy’s shoulders dropped, and she looked Dutch in the eye.

“I don't just wanna ok, Dutch. I want us to be comfortable, and not running anymore. Not jut for you and me, but for everyone!”

Dutch smiled gently, and rubbed Izzy’s back soothingly.

“It’s what I want too, and we’ll have it, I promise.”

He pressed his lips to Izzy's in a gentle kiss. She kissed him back, and stroked his cheek.

“You always make things seem better,” she whispered.

Dutch smiled, “C’mon, lets go inside. Josiah will be a while yet, and I’m not having you pacing up and down for another hour!”

Izzy couldn’t help but smile, as they walked back to the house. Dutch’s arm wrapped around her waist, his hand resting on her hip.

She leaned into him, he always seemed to make everything seem better.

Izzy had settled for a little while, but then she insisted on sitting out on the balcony which gave a good view of the gateway and track that led into Shady Belle.

Dutch had joined her, reading a book. Izzy was also supposed to be reading, but every few seconds she would glance up.

Dutch was going to scold her, but seeing her face, he just smiled and continued reading.

That was until Izzy jumped up and let out a shriek.

“He’s back!” she screamed, and ran back into the house.

Before Dutch even had a chance to put his book down, he glanced over the balcony, and saw Izzy running towards the hitching area.

She was there even before Josiah made in down the track.

Dutch chuckled, and put his book down. Taking his time before he greeted Josiah.

Josiah had hardly had a chance to get off his horse before Izzy started asking questions.

“Did he send anything? What was it? Is the sapphire?”

Josiah chuckled, and handed Izzy the small package, just as Dutch walked over.

Izzy ripped open the small package which was bound with string and brown paper, as Josiah handed Dutch the letter.

Inside the package was a small box, when she opened it, the sapphire sat inside, nestled on a silk cushion.

Izzy clasped the gem in her hand, and breathed a sigh of relief, clutching it to her chest.

Both Dutch and Josiah smiled, as they exchanged glances.

“C’mon, lets go upstairs and see what Nathaniel has to say!” Dutch declared, as he wave the letter in the air, catching both Arthur and Hosea’s attention.

Once they were all gathered in the sitting room, Dutch opened the letter.

Izzy had already put the gem in the open box, and placed it on the table. She could see the relief in Arthur’s and Hosea’s faces, when they saw the sapphire.

Whilst Hosea had trusted his brother implicitly, he was worried that the sapphire may have been lost.

Dutch quickly scanned the letter, a smile appeared on his face.

Izzy looked at him, “what does it say?”

Dutch glanced around at each of them, then started to read.

My Dear Friend,

If you are reading this, it means the sapphire has reached you safely.

Please let Hosea know I am safe, I know he’ll worry.

Its possible that the Pinkertons may have intercepted this, before it reached you. If the seal on the envelope is intact, you will know they haven't.

Dutch paused, “the seal was intact,” he continued.

Blackwater, was as Hosea suspected, full of Pinkertons. I was challenged as soon as I stepped off the train. I managed to persuade them, I was here to help the doctor here. I do actually know him, we were at medical school together, so that was fortunate. I also told them, I would be visiting the jeweller, to purchase an engagement ring, for my soon to be fiancée. They bought that too I think.

The doctor here, was pleased to see me. Both as a friend and as a colleague. I’m not one to judge, but there were still many injured after the massacre.

The Pinkertons kept a close eye on me for a couple of days, but when they realised I had seemed to have spoken the truth, they left me pretty much alone.

I did speak with the jeweller, his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he saw the sapphire. He was honest, he wasn't in a position to take it off my hands. Cash flow in Blackwater right now seems to be something of a problem. He did however, suggest an alternative. A friend of his in St. Denis, an artisan craftsman, might be interested. He was at pains to tell me he was a lot less skilled than he.

The person you need to speak to goes by the name of Algernon Wasp. He may appear to be a little strange, the jewellers words not mine, but he was sure he would be interested in the sapphire.

I also sent a letter to my surgery in St. Denis. I think it may have been intercepted by the Pinkertons, if it has been, please be careful. It means they will likely be in your vicinity very soon. They seem to be a brutish bunch. One has to wonder, who are the real enemy, especially after making your acquaintance.

I took advantage of my friends receptionist, and asked her to post this letter. My hope is of course that it reaches you untampered with.

Good luck my dear friends, it has been my pleasure to meet you. I understand a little now why Hosea stays with you, and I know you will always look after him.

Kind regards

Nathaniel Matthews

Dutch looked up, smiling. He could see the sadness in Hosea’s eyes.

“He’s a good man, your brother, Hosea. If things had been different, I believe we could have been good friends.”  

Hosea just nodded. He knew his brother was a good man, a better man than him. That's why he trusted him with the sapphire, and his trust hadn’t been misplaced. It just saddened him, that he would never see his brother again.

“Now...” Dutch continued, “we have to find this, Algernon Wasp!”

Arthur, who had remained silent, nodded. “It’s probably wise if only one of us go, we don't want to spook him!”

Izzy grabbed the sapphire from the table. “I’ll do it!”

Dutch frowned, “I’m not letting you ride around on your own!”

“And I’m not letting this sapphire out of my sight!” She retorted.

Josiah stood up, “How about I take Izzy? She’ll have to wear something a little more...feminine,” he concluded.

Izzy rolled her eyes, she hated wearing dresses.

Dutch nodded, “Josiah, you take Izzy to St. Denis and buy her something a little more...appropriate! Then go and speak to this Algernon Wasp.”

Izzy sighed. She knew it was the only way that Dutch was going to let her go, so she’d just have to suck it up. It was only for one day after all.

Izzy and Josiah, didn't waste any time heading into St. Denis. She wanted to get this whole thing over and done with as soon as possible. Well the dress wearing part anyway.

“A delicate flower like you will look wonderful in a dress,” Josiah commented, as they rode through the cobbled streets, towards the tailor.

“Dresses don't work particularly well when your swimming across a lake, or half way up a ledge looking for treasure,” Izzy retorted.

Josiah chuckled, “I doubt once Dutch sees you in a dress, he’ll want you to wear anything else!”

Izzy just rolled her eyes. She pulled her horse to a halt, as they reached the tailor.

“lets just get this over with!” she huffed.

Izzy had never been to a tailors before. She’d always just grabbed a few shirts and jeans from the general store. Very occasionally a dress, but only when her mother insisted.

It appeared, however, that Josiah was a regular, if the tailors greeting was anything to go by.

“Mr Trelawny, good to see you again,” he greeted.

The tailor glanced at Izzy, and frowned. Izzy wasn't sure if it was the clothes she was wearing or if it was because Josiah was with a strange woman.

“I’d like a dress for my good friend here, something elegant, but not too dressy!” Josiah explained.

The tailor nodded, “I think I have just the thing!”

Izzy looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but smile, she looked so different. Even more different to when she used to where the dresses that her mother made her buy from the general store.

This dress was really something else.

It was midnight blue, the material was soft, silk perhaps. It was interwoven with sequins, making the whole thing shimmer in the sunlight. It had short sleeves, and the bodice was gold.

Izzy stepped out of the dressing room.

“What do you think?” she asked, looking at Josiah.

Josiah smiled, “you look absolutely stunning!”

He glanced at the tailor, “put it on my tab!”

He held out his arm, which Izzy took, he face flushing slightly.

“I think, Miss Pickett, we should visit Mr Wasp, in a little style.” Josiah beamed.

Izzy stared open mouthed as Josiah lead her towards a small buggy.

“I’ve never ridden in a carriage before!” Izzy exclaimed.

Josiah chuckled, “I bet you’ve never worn a silk sequinned dress before either!”

#rdr2 fanfic #original female character #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #josiah trelawny #wattpad #a03

[tisfan]

All American Road Trip

Chapter One: Get out the Map | Chapter Two: (A Very Little) Leg Room | Chapter Three: (You’re) Gonna Sing the Words Wrong

Chapter Four: You Make Me Live

Ooh you’re the best friend that I ever had I’ve been with you such a long time You’re my sunshine and I want you to know That my feelings are true I really love you Oh you’re my best friend Ooh you make me live

–You’re My Best Friend, Queen 

As appalling as it was to depend on Tony Stark – sometimes it seemed to Steve that he’d spent all his post-transformative time being financially dependant on, and therefore in some obscure manner, owned by, the Stark family, and believe you me, Steve resented it – Steve was glad enough for the shiny credit cards that Stark Industries provided.

Steve had gotten used to either snacking regularly around the Tower or just ignoring his hunger. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent most of his growing-up years in some constant state of not having enough to eat. (the only time in his childhood he hadn’t been hungry was because he was too sick to notice)

But when Sam had pointed out that Bucky was hungry, that was an entirely different story.

And Bucky had been sharing the snacks with Steve. Which almost made it worse; that somehow, over thirty years and nine decades and however many hours there were, Bucky was still fucking looking after Steve, like Steve was a sweet, but ultimately stupid dog that couldn’t look after itself.

The more galling part of that was that it might possibly have been true.

They’d entered the all-you-could-eat diner and Steve hadn’t hesitated. “Seven, please,” he’d told the hostess, who looked at the three of them with wide, wondering eyes. “Believe me, you’ll want to charge us that way.”

Bucky ate like a man used to starving, quietly, efficiently. He didn’t talk. He chased every few bites with a dinner roll, using the spongy surface to clear every drop of gravy and grease from the plate.

He didn’t waste a calorie, either. While high in calories and fat, what Bucky chose from the various stations around the diner were balanced. High nutrient fruits – strawberries, bananas, melon slices, more strawberries – and vegetables. Lots of protein. Bucky was thoroughly practical; right up until he discovered chocolate milk.

Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky had been eating right for months; two years on the run after Insight Day and he still didn’t talk about that. But he certainly wasn’t eating for flavor. At the Tower, at the Wakanda compound, Bucky ate what was put in front of him. He never commented on the flavor or gave any indication that he preferred a thing. Even Steve, who tended to eat peanut butter out a jar with a spoon, had some favorites.

Bucky had been drinking regular milk up until that point; an older woman (by the calendar still probably younger than Bucky, but only by ten years or so) was fiddling with the heavy lift to pour just a little milk into her cup of tea. Bucky started a conversation with her, low and soft and polite, and she probably had something wrong with her eyesight, because the woman didn’t look at him and jump backward – a reaction that many people seemed to have. He leaned against the machine, put his cup under the other tap, and showed her how it worked, filling his own glass with chocolate milk. She managed to get a few drips into her tea cup. Bucky smiled at her, gave a little bow, just tilting his upper body in her direction. Smiled at something she said.

Came back to the table.

Frowned at the cup of brown milk, then shrugged and took a sip.

Drained the glass so quickly Steve thought he was pouring it down his throat.

[more under the cut, or read the whole thing at A03 ]

“Your boy’s got a sweet tooth,” Sam commented as Bucky got back up to refill his glass.

Steve gave Sam a sharp look. “He’s not my boy,” Steve said.

There weren’t words for the dubious expression that crossed Sam’s face. “I ain’t judging, man,” he said. “But that is your boy, don’t have any doubts on that.”

“Maybe once,” Steve said. He couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted, his hands clenched, or he had to swallow down the knot in his throat. Back when he and Bucky were sneaking around to find a quiet spot, loving each other in silence, you did not talk about it. Not unless you were a hundred and ten percent certain the other person was also temperamental. And even then, you were still risking it. Some men had been known to turn in their fellows, in order to divert suspicion. Steve knew it was different now, knew that. But he still had an old, instinctive reaction. His nerves were telling him shut up, shut up, shut up. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “He’s my best friend.”

“He’s your best something, is what he is,” Sam said. “Man broke through seventy years of conditioning, for you. You best treat him right.”

Steve scowled.

“I ain’t sayin’ you’re treating him badly,” Sam said, spreading his hands. He twitched his head in the direction of Bucky, who was on his third refill of chocolate milk, being almost unable to stop sampling long enough to return to the table. “I’m saying pay attention, man.”

Steve watched as Bucky finally came back to the table, the way his legs moved, the sway of his hips, the powerful arms, the thousand-yard stare.

“Believe me, I’m paying attention,” Steve said. He almost wished he could ignore Bucky, just a little bit. It might have been better for his peace of mind.

And I’m a tail fin road locomotive From the days of cheap gasoline For sale on the side of the road goin’ nowhere A rusty old American dream This car needs a young man to own him One who will polish the chrome I’ll give you the rest of my lifetime Just don’t let me die here alone –Rusty Old American Dream, Pat Green 

All jokes aside, the backseat was tiny. Sam didn’t blame Barnes for spreading out, or for the very minimal bitching the man had managed to work himself up to doing. In fact, Sam might have thought the bitching was doing Barnes some good. He doubted Hydra let the man complain.

But Sam had a sister and a cousin who lived with them more often than not, and grandparents that lived four states away. He wouldn’t say he was happy with long car rides, but he knew how to handle them. He climbed into the back seat, the new bags of snacks tucked in the driver’s side footwell, cranked the passenger side window down, and laid over on the back seat, legs bent and the heels of his sneakers resting against the sill.

“Seriously, Sam?” Steve eyed him from the driver’s seat, using the mirror expressively.

Sam flicked him the bird. “Shut up, man, I’m comfy.” He wasn’t, really, entirely. It’d been several years since the last time he was smashed in the back seat, but he’d also been in the Air Force, sleeping in uncomfortable spots was one of his talents.

“If I wreck, you’re gonna get your legs cut off at the knee,” Steve pointed out.

“So don’t wreck, Captain Safe Driver,” Sam retorted. “Now, hush your mouth and let your boy read.”

Barnes coughed uncertainly. “I can read while you talk,” he said.

“Nah, man, read to us,” Sam suggested. “Ain’t that what people used to do, back in your day, for entertainment.”

“Believe it or not, Sam, we actually had moving pictures back in our day,” Steve said. Sam couldn’t see his expression, but his voice sounded like he was scowling.

“Black and white,” Barnes said. “Silent, with title placards. Remember sneakin’ in a few times. But yeah, I… used to read to you a lot, remember, Stevie? When you were sick, I’d sit next t’you and read, just tons. Used to walk ‘n the gutters sometimes, look for pennies, save ‘em up to get a dime novel at the drugstore.”

“I remember you reading Ellery Queen,” Steve said, his voice soft. “The Greek Coffin.”

“Yeah, y’ little sneak,” Barnes said, laughter in his voice. “You waited ‘til I fell asleep and snuck a peek at the challenge page.”

“You wouldn’t have caught me, if you hadn’t done the exact same thing,” Steve pointed out.

“True,” Barnes admitted.

“Shame on you, Rogers. Reading ahead spoils the fun. I burned myself on that habit,” Sam piped up. “When I was twelve, I was reading George Orwell’s 1984 and I read the last page after about 10 pages in.” He waited, that usually got groans and appreciative noises from his audience, but neither of them made a sound. Oh. Oh, god. “Y’all’ve never read 1984, have you?”

“Nope,” Barnes said, popping the P with a certain amount of gusto. “I haven’t actually read a book since 1943.”

“What was the last book you read?” Sam asked, curious.

“Um,” Barnes said, scratching at the scruff on his chin. “Not sure, maybe Happy Golden Years?”

“Wasn’t it that book your sister sent you?” Steve asked. “Along with some cookies that were mostly stale crumbs by the time we got the box.”

“Yeah, I think,” Barnes said. “That Laura Wilder woman. I used to read that to her, while they were shiny-new. The boy at the pharmacy had a crush on my sister –” he directed that comment at Sam, because surely this was something that Steve knew “– and he had given them to her.” He stopped, took a deep breath. “When… last year. I looked her up. She married that man. I have a grand-niece, and two great-grand-nephews, through them.”

“Have you made contact with them?”

Sam didn’t have to see Barnes’ face to imagine the flat look he was giving Steve. “Can’t think why they’d want me to.”

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve said, “you were a hero. What –”

“Stark ain’t the only person who might be keepin’ tabs on me,” Barnes said. “You think I wanna lead any stray Hydra t’ the only blood kin I got left? No, Stevie. Ain’t worth it for me, and they’re better off jus’ not knowing.”

Couldn’t say the man wasn’t smart, even if he had read Little House on the Prairie. Sam took his foot off the windowsill long enough to kick the back of Barnes’ seat. “Read, boy,” Sam said.

Barnes rumbled in his throat, then fished around in the bag to pull out a hardback novel. He flipped a few pages, drew his finger down the page, and started to read.

It was in Warwick Castle that I came across the curious stranger whom I am going to talk about.  He attracted me by three things: his candid simplicity, his marvelous familiarity with ancient armor, and the restfulness of his company—for he did all the talking.

There was something ironic about listening to a man out of time… reading about a man out of time, but Sam didn’t point it out. He lay back down in the back seat and listened to the man weave the story.

He might not have been able to sing worth shit, but Barnes could read. He was expressive, he did different voices for each of the characters, and he kept turning pages for as long as there was light in the car.

Sam reminded himself to buy more books. A lot more books.

I ain’t got much else to lose I’m faded flat busted Been jaded I been dusted I know that I’ve seen better days One foot in the hole One foot gettin’ deeper crank it to eleven And blow another speaker And I ain’t got, I ain’t got much to lose –Better Days (And The Bottom Drops Out), Citizen King

“Don’t know who the fuck thought you deserved a goddamn driver’s license,” Bucky snarled, unkinking himself from the front seat. Shotgun or not, Steve’s driving was terrible no matter what the road conditions were. Steve tailgated, he cut people off, he drove like he was in a fucking warzone and people were throwing grenades.

Bucky’s muscles ached from bracing himself against the door handle. A few times, he’d heard the plastic strain, just an inch from ripping the whole thing off in some vain attempt to keep himself from being smashed to tiny bits when Steve drove the tiny, stupid, unarmored car into a semi tractor-trailer.

Bucky knew, mind you, that tensing up was the worst thing he could do before impact. He’s learned over decades of training and conditioning to go limp for a crash. To roll with the force, eat it up in tumbles and rolls. That loose muscles were unlikely to strain so hard as to snap bones.

He could project trajectories, do the equations in seconds, calculate the turning of the planet, the wind resistance, to see the physics and algebra under the surface of the world, the threads and numbers and variables that moved the world. He could time a jump to the millisecond, he could calculate the paths that would help him catch his prey.

And he still couldn’t help but see every accident that Steve almost had.

He’d been watching that stupid punk nearly commit suicide by idiocy every day of his life from age nine to twenty-seven.

Steve’s reactions were as good as Bucky’s. He wasn’t trained with the specifics of mayhem that the Winter Soldier had been; Steve was just naturally good at wreaking havok.

“This hotel better have a pool, yo,” Wilson said. He was stretching luxuriously, as if he hadn’t spent the last half day asleep in the backseat. “An’ a poolside bar would not be a tragedy.”

“You are too used to living in the compound,” Steve snapped. Steve looked tired. How could that even be right? Steve had as much stamina as the Winter Soldiers. He’d certainly fought like he couldn’t be exhausted.

“You’re damn straight,” Sam said. “Defending the world needed to have its perks.”

“Is that what we’ve done, Sam?” Steve said.

Oh. Oh.

Steve wasn’t tired, not the way most people would mean it. Steve was exhausted. From carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. From the realization that what he’d done wasn’t saving the world.

“We got played,” Bucky said. It was nothing but the truth. Zemo had played them; had sought out all their weaknesses and used them against the other. Mistrust, lies, emotions had run high. Steve, who’d been badly compromised in his concern for Bucky. Bucky who’d lived so long as a tool that he had no idea how to function as a team. The drive for revenge all the way around. Zemo had played them like chess. Played them right into a trap.

And they’d tumbled in like fools. Breaking everything that had been important.

Personally, Bucky thought Stark was right; the Avengers weren’t for arms dealers. They weren’t for piddly terrorist groups and black market weapons dealers. They weren’t for the evils that humans could do against each other – and humans were pretty damn capable of hurting each other. The Avengers were for things like Loki, things like aliens and mutants that could crack the planet in half like a dinner plate in a shooting gallery.

Zemo had wrecked them.

They were floundering now, trying to find a stable balance while the world still rocked underneath them.

And Steve was carrying that fulcrum point. No matter how much Stark might hate them now, for what they’d done, for what they were, for who they were and the lies they’d told and the blood on their hands. Stark knew that. He was doing his best.

But Steve couldn’t find center.

“Pool sounds great,” Bucky said. Because Steve needed to relax, and he’d only do that, only had a chance of doing that, if Bucky led the way.

He ached to do it; he hadn’t been able to reach out, he didn’t want to touch Steve with his hands that had taken so much life, had destroyed so much. He’d killed Howard Stark, for fuck’s sake, the man who’d made all of this, all of them, possible. Hydra had stolen Erskine and Stark and so many others who’d helped Steve, kept him from dying, choking on his own blood, and Bucky had helped them destroy that, against his will, but he’d done it nonetheless.

He hadn’t been able to reach out. Steve had been the one to touch, to clasp Bucky’s shoulder, to put a hand over his, to stare with those longing blue eyes that just wanted to have his friend back.

In reality, it couldn’t have been more than five seconds that he hesitated. In Bucky’s head, it was fifty years, a hundred, half a million years. He reached out, slung that metal arm over Steve’s shoulders and drew him in, the way he’d done for the whole of their lives as free men, tucked Steve up against his body as if he was still a ninety-eight pound weakling.

“Let’s go have some fun, Stevie,” Bucky suggested.

Steve managed a trembling smile, and when Bucky returned it, Steve’s smile grew even brighter until the whole area was lit with its radiance. “Yeah, ya jerk, let’s do that.” 

#all american road trip #all caps #steve x sam x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson

[silver-ninja-of-the-tides]

Silver and Gold

Chapter 10--The Truth

(AO3 ver.)

(Prologue Tumblr ver.; AO3 ver.)

Blake’s POV

Days turned into weeks, and I had healed faster than most expected. But after I was fully healed I made sure to keep a few tabs on them.

In the times I had been with them, the Silver and Gold Ninjas had gotten stronger, and the bond they shared between the group of heroes had grown. In no time they were welcomed as part of the team more so than before, and Kai and Destiny were gradually growing closer to each other. She’s an amazing person, and I never thought I’d think of her as more than an acquaintance.

During the couple of days I was with them, they appeared to be comfortable around me. But a certain Red Ninja couldn’t be more annoyingly protective of his team.

As for right now, I was paying another little visit to the Ninjas. The elders had gone out for an errand and everyone else was in the living room.

Standing behind Kai, I looked over my shoulder at the study. “Hey Kai. Could I talk to you?”

A suspicious look clear in his eyes, he followed me to the study after excusing himself. With everyone entertained by that box in the room, this was going to go well.

Picking up the pace, I slipped behind the open door just as he entered the hallway, and he growled in frustration. Once he was deep enough into the room, I calmly closed the door and locked it. Out of reflex he assumed an offensive stance.

“Oh I’m not gonna fight you, Fire Boy,” Blake said. “I know you haven’t let your guard down. You never did for one second, did you? I figured out how wary you all were of me the minute I met this group. And you thought I wasn’t gonna notice, did you?”

He narrowed his eyes as I held my hands up in a mock surrender.

“Well, you got me. I’m a bad boy. But, so are you. You’re just tamed.”

“You better keep your mouth shut before I shut it for you.”

“You can try. I have everyone else’s guard down, and by the time I make my move you’ll be short a few members.”

“Short a few—” He balled his fists. "So you are the Overlord!”

"Really, Fire Boy? You wanna go there? I’m not exactly him.”

“Hey who’s in there?” It was Lloyd.

“It’s Bla—”

I covered Kai’s mouth and had him in a head lock before he had time to react.

“Kai?” Lloyd called. The Red Ninja’s cries of warning were muffled, and then I heard a new voice.

“Lloyd? What’s going on?” It was Nya.

“Kai and Blake are in there.” The doorknob wiggled. “Rrr. The door’s locked!”

The ninja slammed his foot onto mine, and with a yelp I released him. I countered with a deep purple force field and slammed Kai into the door. He barely rolled to the side away from another shot, and the door became coated in a layer of dark matter.

I heard Lloyd blast at the door, and seconds later he growled again. “My powers aren’t working!”

“Blake is the Overlord!” Kai yelled before catching a hard punch.

“What?!”

“I said, Blake is—AH!” He ducked down from a high kick and was quick to counter with Spinjitzu. But it was going to take more than a little fire to take me down.

I jumped up and slammed my palm into the floor, releasing a dark pulse throughout the room. A resonance that those who knew of it dreaded surged throughout the building, forcing Kai out of his fire pit and into a bookshelf. Suddenly the power went out in the apartment, and soon all of Ninjago City had lost power.

“The Horns of Destruction!” Zane exclaimed.

“The what?!” Des asked.

“Guys! I need your help!” Lloyd yelled.

I watched numerous books and scrolls rain onto Kai as I slowly rose. His eyes threatened to close, but that fire of his wasn’t out just yet.

He yanked himself to his feet and surrounded himself in a fiery tornado again, illuminating the room with an orange haze.

With a short yell I swept my leg under him only for the Ninja to tackle me to the ground. I ignored the sizzling pain in my leg as I thrust him off of me.

“Someone tell me why the door is purple!” Des said as Kai and I unsteadily stood.

“Dark matter?! How do we get past this?!” Jay exclaimed.

“Wait, I got it!” Cole exclaimed. “Everybody stand back!”

I heard the sound of rocks tumbling down a slope as the Fire Ninja and I exchanged blows, but the noise was cut off abruptly.

“It didn’t work!”

“Forget that! Bust down the door!” Janet yelled.

“What do you think we’re trying to do?!” Jay exclaimed. The two of us caught one another’s punches yet again, and we strained to overpower each other.

“You’re not getting anywhere near the team,” Kai spat. “Not while I have a say in it.”

“I admire your passion, Red Ninja, but I’m winning this fight,” I sneered. I kneed his gut and shoved him into the bookshelf again, and this time I made sure he wasn’t getting up.

3rd person POV

“Oh step aside, people!” Janet barked.

As she prepared to break down the door, it exploded right in the heroes’ faces and knocked them down. With the heroes stunned, Blake was able to walk out of the battle scarred study and down the hall. But upon hearing them groan, he turned to face them.

“Come find me if you heroes want to settle this once and for all.” Blake rolled out of the way of a stream of Lloyd’s lightning, making him shatter a window instead.

Both Nya and Jay rushed after the culprit, but they found only an open door.

“Kai?” Lloyd called.

The rest of the heroes poured into the study that was now in ruins. The doorway was simmering and smoking, and the door was in a million pieces. Scrolls and books littered the floor and desk, and one of the bookshelves was cracked. Lying unmoving at the base of the cracked bookshelf was the Red Ninja.

Nya sat her brother up. “Kai?“

No response.

”Kai? Oh please don’t be …” She noticed his chest slowly rising and falling, and a small wave of relief passed over the room.

“That’s it. I’m gonna say it. I told you so!” Jay snapped. “We should’ve just kicked him out while we had the chance!”

“We just had to be nice, didn’t we?“ Cole spat.

Footsteps running toward them brought the young heroes’ attention to the hallway, and the elders of the team appeared in the doorway. A look of quick shock passed over each of them.

“We leave for one hour and this is what happens,” Garmadon said.

“What happened in here?” Dr. Julien asked. “The power went out in the entire city!”

“Blake tuned out to be the Overlord,” Nya replied with disgust. “And we just had to bring him in.”

“The guy probably knows how we work now!” Jay exclaimed.

“Where is he now?” Wu asked.

“He just took off after he said to find him if we wanted to settle this,” Destiny said.

“Then we can’t waste any time,” Misako said. “We need to search the entire city now before he causes anymore damage.”

“This is Gayle Gossip reporting live in Ninjago City,” the TV stated.

“Oh great,” Janet grumbled.

“A major power outage has just recently swept over the entire city! So far no one knows what caused this power outage, but witnesses say it had something to do with some horns that they heard …”

“All right, guys, let’s hunt this Overlord down,” Cole ordered.

“What about Kai?” Nya asked.

The Black Ninja blinked. “Right. Um—”

“I’ll help with him,” Destiny said.

“And this study isn’t going to clean itself,” Misako said.

As the group took their positions, Nya and Destiny got Kai to his feet and each took an arm, leaving Lloyd and Misako to the study.

“When I get my hands on that guy I’m going to fling him into next week,” the Silver Ninja heatedly muttered.

“Just don’t leave me out on the action,” Nya said. “No one messes with my brother.” The girls situated Kai onto a bunk bed as Destiny was conjuring up multiple ways to dislocate a few of Blake’s limbs.

“And he was trying to act so smooth and—and all that and—ugh! And I even started to–“

A groan from Kai cut her off. “Nngh … what …” His eyes suddenly flew open, and he shot up to hit his head against the bottom of the top bunk. “Ow.”

“You okay?” Nya asked.

“Ugh … a little bruised but—heeey. Where’s—”

“He’s gone, Kai,” Destiny said, and the Red Ninja growled.

“I can’t believe I let him get away with this.”

“The team’s making a sweep right as we speak,” his sister said.

He attempted to get up when a sharp pain flared up in his back.

“Easy. We can’t have you going out there like this,” the Silver Ninja said.

“I can’t just sit here while the Overlord’s running around Ninjago City! I have to do something!”

“You’re not going anywhere if you can’t even sit up,” his sister argued.

“The falcon has located the Overlord!” Zane announced as he appeared in the doorway. His attention quickly went to his friend. “You’re awake!” The Nindroid walked in. “How are you feeling?”

“Good enough to get out there and teach that guy a lesson,” Kai replied, but Zane wasn’t buying any of it.

“Judging by your expression I would say that you are not good enough to get out there to teach the Overlord a lesson. You are not going after him.”

“Zane! We’re heading out!” Lloyd called, and the White Ninja looked to the girls.

“We’re on our way!” Nya replied to the Green Ninja, and the trio took off.

“So you’re just gonna leave me here?!” Kai protested.

Destiny stopped at the doorway, and she strained to keep from turning around. “We don’t need you getting hurt more than you already are because of your hot head.” I’m not letting you get hurt more.

Once she left him to catch up with the others, Zane led the way his falcon provided.

“How many times are we going to go running through the streets of Ninjago City to find people?” Jay asked.

“As many times as we need to,” Wu answered. “And this time, we will find him and put a stop to him.”

“I hope so,” Cole said. “I wanna fight this guy already!”

“That makes two of us,” Destiny replied.

As the team ran through the streets, she thought back to how her sister discovered Spinjitzu. If Janet had that power, then maybe she did, too.

So why haven’t I done it yet? “Hey uh, question. How did you guys … y’know … figure out how to do Spinjitzu?”

“It will only be unlocked when the key is ready to be found,” Wu said. “Patience.”

Okay so I just have to go through the motions, then. Good advice for someone who’s never heard of Spinjitzu.

Up above, the falcon cawed as they arrived at the main square. The city was bustling with repairs and usual city activities, but there was no sign of Blake.

"Anybody see him?” Lloyd asked.

“He should be here,” Zane replied. “And I am!”

Citizens and heroes alike turned to see Blake on a roof.

The boy curled his hands into fists and released them. “Looks like you’re one Ninja short.” The deep purple flecks in his eyes brightened with anticipation. “Gold Ninja! You have a choice!”

All eyes turned to Janet, who held her sister back before stepping forward.

“Surrender yourself to me and I won’t harm the people. If you don’t … well … you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

She narrowed her eyes at the blonde, whose hand drifted to his jacket pocket. “You think I’m going down that easily?! You want me? Then get down here!”

“Hmph. I was told Ninjas never seemed to go down easily!” Blake leapt off the roof and slammed his fist into the ground, sending a massive shockwave throughout the square. Panic surged in the citizens as they ran for cover, and the Horns of Destruction echoed in the air as the power flickered.

“Everyone get inside!” Lloyd warned the people.

“It’s all of us against him, guys!” Jay said.

“Never underestimate the enemy!” Wu said. “Especially the Overlord!”

“Cut off all the exits! We are not letting him get away again!” Cole ordered.

“Ninjaaa-GO!” the Ninjas exclaimed. Six tornadoes shot off to surround Blake, and a gold one led Destiny and Nya straight for him.

“Apparently I can change clothes!” Janet said from behind Blake as she briefly examined her suit.

Blake was thrust back by Wu’s Spinjitzu, but he was quick to block a blow from Wu’s staff and kick Destiny back. Nya was able to swipe her leg under the blonde, and the earth began to shake as a crack rapidly travelled to him. The trio quickly moved out of the way before shards of earth popped up. With one swipe of a shield of dark matter, the shards became corrupted and shattered.

“Ice!” Zane and Janet barely landed a hit on Blake, who merely threw the shield at them. Luckily it was intercepted by a blast of wind, and the rest of the team continued to keep Blake on his toes. And a fight like this wasn’t complete without someone catching it all on a news camera.

“Reporting live from the scene of the action, it seems like all of Ninjago isn’t safe after all,” Gayle stated from a safe distance. “But luckily the Ninjas of Ninjago and their new friends are here to save the day!”

After getting hit by a kick from Nya, Blake rolled to the side to let Zane get pelted by a stream of water.

“Sorry!” Destiny called. Shortly afterwards Cole was shocked by one of Jay’s attacks.

“Aahh! Aim for him! Not me!” Cole exclaimed.

“Well it’s not my fault he keeps moving!” Jay fired back.

“Focus!” Wu scolded.

Blake climbed back onto a roof, and Janet wasted no time in using the wind to catch up to him. Within seconds they were exchanging fierce punches and kicks. Upon spotting them, Destiny swiftly hoisted herself up toward the duo. Just as she reached the top, Janet was shoved to the ground.

“Hey!” she yelled, and Blake turned around. “Nobody picks a fight with my sister!”

The boy merely smiled. “Destiny, just the girl I wanted to see. Besides your sister, that is.”

The Silver Ninja surrounded herself with a tendril of water as her sister motioned for the others to surround him.

“Keep him occupied,” Janet mouthed.

"You fight her, you fight me.”

Blake rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.

“Fire!“ a familiar voice shouted from behind Destiny. Blake ducked from the blast of fire, and his irritation flared greatly.

“Kai!?” Cole exclaimed.

The Red Ninja landed beside Destiny with his sword at the ready.

“You’re supposed to be inside!” she hissed.

“I’m not letting him get away this time!”

“Now’s not the time to prove yourself!”

Blake rolled his eyes again. “Fine. This’ll make things a whole lot easier for me.”

To prove him wrong, the others finally had him surrounded.

“Hmm. Let’s see. Nine of us against one of you? Huh. I find that easier for us,” Jay mocked.

“And this time, you have nowhere to hide!” Lloyd added. “Now!”

As one the Ninjas fired their elements at Blake. A bright light flared up upon impact, and the force was enough to knock the team off the roof. When the light subsided, there wasn’t a single trace of Blake.

The Green Ninja moaned as he began to sit up. “… Is everyone all right?” The rest of the group muttered replies as they sat up.

“Is he gone?” Nya asked.

“I’m not quite sure this fight is over just yet,” Zane said. “His energy is still here.”

The team slowly got to its feet, and citizens hesitantly emerged from their safe havens. As the heroes scanned the square, something in Janet was warning her to stay alert.

Movement caught her green eyes, and it took her seconds to register a dark substance in a person’s hand.

"Look out!” Janet yelled. She shoved her sister out of the way, and a stinging cold sensation consumed her whole being.

(First chapter) (Next chapter) (Previous chapter)

#Ninjago #Lloyd #Zane #Cole #Jay #Kai #Nya #Sensei Wu #Destiny the Silver Ninja #Janet the Gold Ninja #Overlord #Blake--my OC #Misako #Garmadon #Dr. Julien #Gayle Gossip #fight #dark matter #MWAHAHA! #Ninjago--Silver and Gold

[kapanbenernya]

Horizon: Zero Dawn -- There’s Only One or Two Giant Dinosaurs

Did you know that I own a PS4? Of course you don’t, why the fuck should you care? I’m literally a stranger on the internet that communicates to you via an internet post floating on the information superhighway like a piece of turd lost in the everflowing sea of turds in a septic tank. But enough rambling on the subject of human feces and back to the topic at hand, I own a PS4.

I used to own the PS2 and I remember having a CD holder shaped like a thick book that holds all my PS2 DVDs, and I remember it being filled to the brim until I have to double-stack the DVDs or else it won’t fit. So why did I bring this up? Because I want to compare that to my PS4 library which consists of 4 blu-rays. No I’m not fucking kidding, I only got 4 games, two of which are a copy of Bloodborne that I had to buy twice because I bought the wrong fucking region and the DLC won’t connect. 

Maybe right now you’re asking yourself, “What’s with the rambling man?” and well... Here’s the thing, I’m gonna be honest from the start: I wasn’t that into Horizon: Zero Dawn (HZD). I bought it just as a filler, to bulk up my library of PS4 exclusives. So yes, I just wasted two paragraphs explaining that I didn’t buy HZD because I think I’ll enjoy it, I bought HZD just to own it and maybe get a kick out of it or two.

Oh well, let’s talk about the game anyway

In this game, you play as Aloy, a woman without a mother in a tribe that places value on matriarchy, which is why she is branded an outcast by her tribe. Wait what? Doesn’t matriarchal society puts more privilege and power on women? So why was she shunned? She’s a woman! Shouldn’t she be given power instead of you know, kicked out?

Something tells me this tribe doesn’t respecc whamen as much as they think they do

But Aloy isn’t all alone in this cold cruel robotic world, she’s got a foster dad whose name I already forgot. I mean it’s not my fault, he’s not that important anyway. All he does is teach Aloy everything she ever knew so that she can go to the yearly outcast acceptance tryouts, nothing important there. Sarcasm aside, it’s still kinda true that his only purpose in the game is to be the plot advancing sacrificial lamb. No spoiler alert needed! His death flag has been raised ever since he become the parental figure of the protagonist, kinda like Batman’s parents or Uncle Ben. 

But no worries, his sacrifice wasn’t in vain because Aloy finally gets accepted into the tribe! By virtue of being the sole survivor of the test because some tribe of edgy fuckboys killed everybody else. And not long after, some killer robots showed up at the door, late to party and and thrashed the place up some more. With the tribe left in tatters, Aloy is appointed as a scout and sent into the world to figure out the threat that looms over the world. Also, Aloy may or may not have been born from a mountain and now have a personal quest of finding out about her origin. And if she had extra time, probably find out whatever it is the old Shaman smoked until she came to the flawless logic that mountains can give birth to humans.

The threat is, as usual: robots gone apeshit

Have I mentioned that the setting of the world is a post-apocalyptic world where people formed tribes and most animal have been replaced by robots? So yeah, two very important aspect of the HZD world. Anyway, the robots and the humans live happily among each other, and by that I mean they kill each other every time their gaze meet. But so far, things have been manageable as long as the humans stay the fuck away from the robot’s territory and vice versa. 

Let me explain about the robots a bit. The robots are various versions of wild animal replacements: stags, bulls, leopards, hawks, saber-toothed tigers, giant fire-breathing chickens, and 30-foot tyrannosaurus rex with frickin’ laser beams.

We all know the mastermind behind the fucking dino, don’t we?

As you can see from my incomplete list alone, the robot variety is rather robust. And the variety is supported by the uniqueness of each robot species. Every robot has different weaknesses based on elements and since the design of each robots is largely varied, the locations of the weak points can be very different. I can see the love and care that went into designing each species, and it shows. Although I gotta admit the herbivores are kind of boring when compared to the carnivores. The herbivores are kinda samey and lame, all you get to do is maybe ride it to town and turn some primitive heads. Meanwhile, the carnivore’s got all the nice toys. The kind of toys that shoots laser and kills people. And guess what? You can shoot the turret off with an arrow then you can pick it up and fire it up their tail pipes.

Now I gotta say, the first time I see the robots, I was like “fuckin’ sold, this shit is G U C C I”. But then after I actually play the game and have come face to face with a lot of them, I wasn’t into them anymore. I don’t know why, but I find the enemies boring after a while. Perhaps its because somehow I find fighting the animal bots has become a chore and not a fun activity to do. I mean the animal bots tend to flock together, so you’re almost always outnumbered, and the bots usually can kill you in a few smacks. This results in a lot of untimely deaths during what I thought would be a sunny stroll in the meadows. Also I think the big machines have too much health. As you can see, I don’t think this is a good thing, the same way a rubber tire isn’t an excellent snack just because you can chew it longer. However, you can actually make all of these problems go away if you choose to stealth it up and crouch like the little bitch that YOU ARE. Hey, dev-person-man-guy-thing, nobody in their right mind looks at a robot T-Rex and say, “Boy, I can’t wait to stealth crouch around this bad boy”. You know what we wanna do? We wanna ride it, or kill it, or ride it AND THEN kill it. Maybe take down a few rival tribes in the process.

And that’s just the fuckin animal bots, there’s also the war bots that looks like a cereal box that grew spider legs. Not only is it visually boring, it’s also plays like shit. Either you have to go play hide and seek with it or it’ll blast you with piss like you’re a really tough shit-stain on the toilet bowl. But the worst of the worst has got to be the human enemies. Fucking hell, in a world filled with creative animal robots, adding human enemies will just bring the standard down. They’re boring to look at, boring to fight against, and just plain stupid. I hate how the so-called “stealth kill” alerts every motherfucker in the area. I hate how you can’t stealth kill the “elite enemies” until you unlock a certain skill. In short, I just hate humans in general.

Not in real life, mind you, I’m a God-fearing peace loving man of the people, man.

Great, since I’ve run out of places to spank HZD, I’m just gonna randomly list all of its best parts.

I like how we can grab some healing items that can be used on-the-go in an instant, and I like how it can be easily found in the wilds like some drive-through salad. What I don’t think I like is how the plants aren’t that easy to differentiate from one another. I mean if I’m gonna make a jump, roll, tumble, and scoot myself down a goddamn hill while dodging lasers fired from a turret mounted on a 20-foot robot tyrannosaurus, that plant better be the healing plant instead of that useless resist fire plant. 

Another thing I like about the game is the weapons. There are quite a variety of weapons at your disposal, and it’s the good kind of variety. The kind of variety that makes each weapon had a distinct feel and different purpose, and I like them all. My favorite is the the tripwire weapon that’s the greatest thing since the invention of fire. The sleeper hit was the sling that I thought was shit but it’s actually great because it can fire ice projectiles that immobilizes the big enemies and freeze their armor. 

This very very tight weapon system is also supported by your ability to craft ammo on the fly. This might seem like a trivial thing, but hear me out now: by enabling you to craft ammo mid-fight, the game makes sure that the pace isn’t halted by the fucking menu screen and you get to keep your focus and maintain the flow of the battle. Because you know what kills my combat boner when I’m in a middle of a tense fight against robot dinosaurs? Having to pause the game and open up the crafting tab because my arrows ran out.

That’s it, that’s about everything I can say about my experience playing the game. There are some things that I actually left out of my review like the world design, the characters, etc. It’s because I think that it’s not that important to mention or it’s just mildly mediocre and not worth reviewing.

In Brief

What’s wrong with me? Do I not like video games anymore? 10 years ago, all I had to do was fire up my PS2, boot up GTA: San Andreas and just grab a bike and cycle from Los Santos to Las Venturas and I was having fun. 5 years ago I finished Dark Souls after 2 years of git gud, and I didn’t let the difficulty break me. Now I’ve got a game filled with creative and challenging enemies, a big open world to explore, and a fuckin robot dinosaur for God’s sake. Why didn't I have fun with it? I don’t think I have an immediate answer for it, but at least I know there’s two possibilities. One, is that I AM actually losing my touch and I’m not that into video games anymore. Probably all this adult thing and living my life that’s gotten in the way. The other one is that my tastes has actually gotten better with time, and now I notice the intricacies and can distinguish whether a game is good or bad, and I simply did not want to waste my limited time with games that I didn’t really like that much, including HZD.

I guess we can learn something from the animal robot designs. No matter how well you design an element of a game; visually or audibly, it won’t be appreciated as much if it does not add much to the gameplay --or worse-- plays like shit. Because you ARE making a game, and all the elements that you design will ultimately be judged from how it feels as a game. You can paint the robots with naked titties, but if they’re boring to fight, people will still think of them as badly designed. As for the case of the war bots and the human enemies? Dogshit.

9/10/2018

#horizon zero dawn #ps4

[psychicmedium14]

What Your Astrological Sign Says About What Kind of Ex-Girlfriend You Are

Sure, you know what kind of girlfriend you are based on your zodiac sign, but what kind of ex are you? Read on to find out what the stars have to say about your breakup style. Aquarius: The Ex Who Doesn't Look Back: Honestly, PHEW, you're glad things are over now, because you were starting to feel a little cramped. You're super independent, Aquarius, and you need to feel like you have space to be who you want to be, or else you get antsy. You tend to not get bent out of shape after a breakup. After all, your witty conversational skills and charisma make everyone you meet feel super important, which makes it super easy for people to fall for you, HARD. But if someone bores you or can't keep up that signature Aquarius banter, you're out. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Finally booking that trip you've always wanted to talk about. You finally have all this time! What did you even do when you were dating someone? How did you even LIVE? Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You're out and about they walk by. They're super awkward about the whole thing, which you don't really understand, until you realize you were on a date with someone much hotter than your ex. Pisces: The Nice Ex: Selfless Pisces! You work too hard and are far too nice and trusting to everyone. Your friends are stoked for your break up. They're sick of watching your current boo treat you like any less than the queen that you are, and can't WAIT for you to find someone better. You're hella compassionate and kind, so you try to keep things as amicable as possible with your exes. But your sensitive side means that you also feel breakups pretty intensely. Maybe you didn't even love them! But the second you break up, you're left wondering Was this person my soulmate? Will I spend the rest of my LIFE ON THIS PLANET pining for them? Luckily the answer is no. Your kind, compassionate nature is like friggin' catnip for All the Hot Singles In Your Area and you are able to find new boos to take your mind off of things pretty easily. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Starting a poetry blog that goes viral. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: They start following your work and accidentally like something on your Instagram from a very chill 38 weeks ago. Aries: The Ex That Got Away: All your exes miss you immediately. Once you're no longer together, they realize just how much they missed that signature Aries wild-streak of spontaneity and confidence. Too bad that's not your problem anymore! It's not like you're sad that you guys broke up because you really miss them — it's more like you're a little insulted they didn't wanna hang around your greatness anymore? Whatever though, you're not bothered you tell yourself while toggling between the 17 OkCupid tabs you have open and swiping with abandon on Tinder. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Gong on a blind date within 24 hours of your breakup. Hey, why wait? Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: They "accidentally" (read: on purpose) run into you by school/work/that bar you always go to with your friends. It doesn't work and you see right through it though, so lmao. Taurus: The Chill Ex: You approach everything super logically, so once you figure out that you guys weren't going to spend the rest of your lives together, you no longer care. Your reliable and stable nature means you often stay friends with exes after the fact. While you may think nothing of it (practically speaking, you'd never date the same person twice. On-and-off-again relationships just don't make sense to you, time-wise), just know that every time you hang out as friends, they're running through your entire relationship in their head, wondering if you'll ever give them a second chance. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Shopping for a new wardrobe or curating some other aspect of your life to your typical Taurusian perfection Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You see them like, every day, after you become friends again and they won't STFU about their love life in front of you Trying to Make You Feel Something, but you're chill. Gemini: The On-and-Off-Again Ex: You're super adventurous and fearless so breakups are truly NBD to you...but sometimes maybe they should be? Your indecisive nature and charisma make you a perfect storm for on-again-off-again relationships, but you already know this. You can't help it if you've got a knack for starting organic conversation with anyone, including your ex! It's always good to be chill about breakups, but you gotta remember that sometimes they're for the best, especially when you could be gracing someone new with that signature Gemini charm. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Talking it out with a v. therapeutic vent sesh with your best girlfriends. You decompress best when surrounded by lots of love and verbal affirmations that you are indeed, much better than your ex, and much funnier. (You are.) Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You set up a coffee date later down the line to "catch up" AKA suss out how they're doing post-breakup and are they in a place where you should get back together again? You'll never know unless you ask! Cancer: The Ex That Blocks You on Facebook: I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: breakups hit you pretty hard since you tend to feel emotions very viscerally. And why shouldn't they? You're one of the most loyal and supportive people around, so if someone were to test that trust or commitment, yeah, you'd be pretty hurt. "I don't even care," you choke out between sobs while writing a very harshly worded email that you will never send (you didn't even put their email address in the recipient tab), partway out of fear you'd accidentally hit send and they'd see just how much this actually bothers you, and partway because you can't even admit to yourself how hurt you are. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Going through their tagged photos on Facebook/Instagram to see when/if they're dating somebody new, and WHO IS SHE AND WHAT DOES SHE HAVE ON YOU? Your friends eventually convince you to block them. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: Never, because you go way out of your way to avoid running into them of course. Leo: The Petty Ex: You're not mad at all. You actually don't even care at a— okay, you're a little mad. Maybe not mad, just a lil' insulted that you wasted your time with someone who wasn't as perfect as you. Ok, FINE, you're also really hurt that someone didn't see you for the star that you are. And yeah, it doesn't feel good that you were probably more into them than vice versa. You can't help it though, you're just a straight shooter who doesn't play games, so why play hard to get? It sucks to put yourself out there and have that met with anything but matching enthusiasm. You might try to overcompensate with coolness and try to remain friends, but eventually you realize you were never really friends in the first place. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Trying to make a mumblecore indie short film about your experiences together a la Adam from the last season of GIRLS for some sense of closure. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You invite them to your Broadway debut 20 years down the line, but you're not salty. It's just, like a light "f*ck you" move you know? Super casual. Virgo: The Ex That Can't Let Go: You look for some Greater Meaning in everything — methodically analyzing every move trying to learn from it. You vacillate between crying your eyes out, or thanking your lucky stars the universe hath delivered you from this fuccboi. You continue to go through your old message history looking for red flags after the fact, convinced if you could only find the turning point it would bring you some closure. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Shell-shocked, rocking back and forth whispering "I just don't get it." Your friends GTFO there after two days of trying to convince you everything will be okay. You know that, but you just gotta process stuff at your own pace. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You do a very calculated Hot Girl Pivot™ where you examine and reevaluate every aspect of your life to seem Cooler, Better, Faster, Stronger and broadcast it from all your social media channels until he's the very first viewer on all your Snapchat stories. Libra: The Friendly Ex: Since you tend to be non-confrontational, things usually get *pretty* bad for a breakup to even happen, which leads to a lot of unspoken bitterness for both parties. You'll go out of your way to be diplomatic and make sure everyone knows that you hold no ill will, but really, you'll never forgive them for wasting your time. No matter though! You're charming AF and hotties start falling into your orbit almost immediately after any breakup. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: If you're *really* shook, you go to law school or something. If you're only a little shook, you make a bunch of fire Spotify breakup playlists and waddle around in your PJs pitying yourself for exactly 1/7th of the time you were together, or until a new crush comes your way. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You see them all the time, because you're "friends" and you totally "don't care" that they're now dating a carbon copy of yourself at all haha, why? Scorpio: The Stone-Cold Ex: Damn, where do I start Scorpio? For starters, all your exes are scared of you. You know that right? You're real quick to call someone out and will not hesitate to bring up receipts from like, four tax seasons ago. And good luck to them if they hurt you, because you'll dedicate all your waking hours to getting them back. If an ex is lucky enough to escape your wrath, you'll just go straight for the freeze and cut off all communication with them forever. It's like you never existed. You deal with breakups about as well as you'd think, which is very intensely. You may seem tough on the outside, and you are pretty fearless, but you also tend to beat yourself up about them, wondering if you did something to chase them off/make things fall apart. The older you get, the more you realize, it's not always somebody's fault and that sometimes people just aren't a match, and breakups get easier and easier the older you get. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Flirting with the idea of hooking up with their best friend/roommate/boss to just really drive in that power play that you "won" the breakup. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: When you start parading around the fact that you're now hooking up with someone close to them. Spoiler: it doesn't feel good for any party involved. Sagittarius: The Ex Who Will Always Secretly Hope for Something More: You're so funny and witty that it's a little too easy for you to become friends with your exes after you breakup. Of course you don't mind though. You'll give a ton of lip service about how "you're just friends" till the ends of time, but at the same time, if they ever wanted to pursue something again, you'd sign up right away. But you'll never make the first (second) move. You're stubborn enough to not want to be the one to pursue an on-again-off-again dealio, but conveniently not stubborn enough to move on completely. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Setting your ex up with a friend just to prove how "totally over it" you are. You're not, and you finally realize this when they actually hit it off and you don't know how to backpedal and say you didn't mean for this to happen. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You see them on Tinder and it hits you that they're like, actively looking to date other people, which even though you'd been broken up for months, hurts you in ways you didn't realize you could be offended by? Haha. Nice. You consider moving away or getting really into cycling classes. You wind up doing neither, but it gets easier every time. Capricorn: The Glo-Up Ex: You're honestly stoked to be single again. What a great chance to meet new people and trade up for a hotter/smarter/funnier model. Sure, your friends might think this is a little cruel when you explain your lack of grieving period, but it works. Your ex was a little dull anyways, and they were always gonna disappoint you in one way or another. They probably just couldn't handle you. Sure, it hurts a little, but ultimately you're grateful for the chance to meet somebody who really gets you. And super grateful you don't have to pretend to like the same things anymore. Most Likely to Be Doing This After a Breakup: Dating somebody who is the total opposite of your ex, just to see what it's like. Situation in Which You'd Most Likely Run into Your Ex: You run into each other at a mutual friend's party and you don't even realize it until they text you about it later. Oops! Oh well. You remain unbothered.

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