#can you tell he scratching a specific itch in my brain . yeah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joel-millerr · 3 years

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The Chase - One Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Rating: explicit

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You bet Mando you could last two hours on the run without him catching you. Reluctantly, he agrees to the bet.

Warnings: outdoor (rough & unprotected) sex, hunter and hunted type of vibe, mild choking, being gagged, size kink, mando talks a lot during sexy time, maybe slight dom/sub mentions?

A/N: this is just my take on the whole “bounty hunter and quarry” fantasy. also I basically wrote the smut and then added context around it. this is pretty much shameless smut ///

*Masterlist can be found here**

It started out as innocent banter.

“I definitely think I could last a couple days,” you told him, slouching in the passenger seat inside the cockpit.

The modulator scoffed at you. “No.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.

He swiveled his chair around to face you. “That’s not it.”

“Then tell me what it is, Mando.”

Even though you weren’t able to see what his expression was, you could tell by his body language that he was getting annoyed. The way his hands fidgeted at his sides, the way he leaned his body back in the chair—something he did every time you tried to rile him up about something. Despite the fact that he hid behind the beskar, he was generally easy to read whenever he was irritated.

“I bet I can last two days.”

“You wouldn’t last two hours, let alone two days.”

Now that was a challenge you didn’t want to back down from. Anytime someone told you that you couldn’t do something, it scratched that itch inside you to do that exact thing. Your incessant need to prove people wrong sometimes got the best of you, but Maker, the satisfaction you got from it was worth the consequences.

“I’ll take that bet,” you said to him, feeling your stomach stir.

“I wasn’t—”

“Too bad, Mando. You challenged me and I accept.”

And then the rest was history. All you had to do was last two hours without Mando tracking you down and then you could die happy knowing you evaded the best bounty hunter in the parsec, even if it were for a short period of time.

You’re not sure what planet Mando lands the Crest on but it’s definitely one of the quieter ones because he’s landed the ship in a large clearing with only woods as far as the eye can see. It’s not a problem for you, though. Growing up on Naboo meant you were always exposed to forests and clear landscape. In theory, this is the best place he could have chosen, not that you’d tell him that.

“There are some ground rules for this,” he begins to say, standing in the galley of the Crest.

“I’m all ears,” you answer back.

Mando lets out a chuff of air that crackles up through his vocoder, like he’s still considering calling this whole thing off, but after weeks of still not finding a Jedi for the kid, you both need a little distraction.

“First thing, no guns.”

“Okay, that’s understandable.”

“Secondly, you keep the commlink open at all times,” he orders.

“Not a problem,” lips curling into a smile, you already feel the adrenaline pump through your veins, body itching to get this whole bet started.

“Thirdly, if you somehow manage to last the day, we check in once it gets dark.”

“Ouch,” you take a step back, slightly offended at his jab. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I’m not the one overestimating my abilities,” he jests. Who knew Mando could be so snarky?

“Do we call it off at night and wait till dawn?”

“If you want to make to things easier.”

Oh, so that’s how he wants to play.

“All right, Mando. We don’t stop.”

“I don’t know how safe this planet it, but you shouldn’t run into any trouble.”

“Okay, yeah Mando, let’s do this,” you’re basically shaking from the thrill of all this. You can’t wait to show off your evading skills.

“I’ll give you an hour head start. Put as much distance between yourself and the Crest as you can.”

“Don’t worry, Mando. This isn’t my first time running away from someone,” you say with a smug smile.

“Fine,” his voice terse.

Your turn your back to him and face the open ramp. With your heart banging against your ribcage and your palms damp with sweat, this might be the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done.

“Be safe, I’ll see you soon,” He says with a hint of mockery. He’s so confident in himself, it’s actually getting under your skin.

Looking over your shoulder, you hit him with your own jab, “We’ll see about that,” and then you’re descending the ramp.

Once your feet hit the ground, you think of the best direction to head towards. In order to do this successfully, you’ll need to choose every single one of your movements very carefully because any slip up could end up hurting your chances to win.

You hear your named being called, so you turn around to look back at the Crest and see Mando standing at the top of the ramp.

“When I do find you, try to put up a fight.”

That sends heat right to the apex of your thighs. If you didn’t have enough incentive, that was the last nail in the coffin. You’ll make this as hard for Mando as you possibly can.

You shoot him one last devilish grin and disappear from sight, opting to go to your right. Once you reach the forest edge, you break off into a sprint, heading deeper and deeper into the foliage.

The forest isn’t too dense, but there are roots everywhere on the ground and you stumble on a couple of them, nearly falling flat on your face. The positive to having so many branches and roots in the ground means the chances of your footprints showing up in the mud are low but Mando’s got a heat tracker on his helmet, meaning he can still track your movements without actually seeing your prints.

The adrenaline keeps telling you to run, run as fast as you can, but the rational part of your brain realizes that no matter how much distance you put between you and Mando, it won’t matter unless you have a clear plan as to what tactics you’ll need to use in order to make sure he doesn’t find you.

Should you try to find the closest village?

Should you stay in the forest?

Think, think…

You continue to put some more distance between you two and when you feel as though you’ve made some progress, you check the clock on your commlink.

2:50PM.

In ten minutes, Mando will leave the Crest and begin tracking you. You’ll have to start making important decisions soon. When you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you tried to pinpoint a specific spot that might give you some kind of advantage. If your memory serves you correctly, you saw a small area that appeared to be some kind of canyon. Ideally, that might be the perfect spot to find some shelter. A hard surface means no footprints.

Now if you could only find out how far away you are from it…

As you take in your surroundings—which is basically just trees and more trees, you think about finding a high enough viewpoint for you to see where this possible haven could be. A few metres away you happen to see a tree that appears to be much larger than the rest of the ones around it. Its branches look sturdy enough for a human to climb and it doesn’t take you long before you’re heading straight for it. You haven’t climbed a tree in years but if there was a perfect moment to touch-up on your skills, it’s right now.

As you climb up the stump, the branches and leaves break apart, and the sky begins to get clearer and clearer. When you finally reach the very top, you’re so high up that you’re able to spot what you were looking for. It looks like it’s a couple more clicks away, but you were lucky enough to be already heading in that direction. The Maker must be on your side.

One more look at the clock.

3:01PM.

Shit, you have to start moving.

If you start to climb down the tree, you’ll end up losing precious time, allowing Mando to close some of the distance. It’s something you can’t risk. Eyes scanning the woodland between you and your hideout, you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to jump from tree to tree and pray you don’t fall and break any bones. It’s incredibly risky, and your inner self is warning you against it. If you do fall, you’re screwed, breaking a lot of the bones in your body. You’ll have to hope that these branches will be able to carry your weight.

Trying to balance yourself on one of tree’s larger arms, you crawl across it on your knees, knowing damn well if you stood up, you’d lose your balance and fall down, and it would be a pretty big fall. You’re easily fifteen feet off the ground, maybe more. Fuck, this might have been a horrible idea, but it’s frankly too late to turn back, you’ve made up your mind and you need to go through with it.

The jump from the branch you’re currently on to the adjacent one you’ll be jumping onto is about four feet, but it’s not the jump that concerns you. What concerns you is the sturdiness of that branch. Will the impact cause it to snap? Will it make too much noise, letting Mando hear it? All these questions are racing through your mind as you hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The longer you consider it, the more time you waste. You’ll just have to take the chance and hope everything works in your favor.

“Okay… I can do this,” you whisper, psyching yourself up.

As you slowly rise to your feet, your legs are buckling. You take one last look down, fully realizing that this idea is absolutely bonkers and jump.

When your body hits the branch, you latch your arms around it, landing on your stomach. To your surprise, the branch doesn’t break off, it barely even moves.

Success.

You continue to leap from branch to branch, until the rest of trees in your wake look too unstable for you to leap onto. Luckily, the tree you’re currently on isn’t too far from the ground, so you’re able to climb down it in under five minutes before reaching the ground. Keeping still for a moment, you wait to hear something.

A twig snap, leaves rustling, anything, but you don’t hear a single sound.

“Did you actually climb these trees?” You hear Mando’s voice through the commlink on your wrist, which startles you.

Is he already there? He’s already so close, how is he already so fucking close to you?

“Um, no?” You reply.

“That’s convincing,” he answers dryly.

If Mando’s already reached the tree you started climbing at, then he’s really not far behind. You’ll need to start sprinting again. Without trying to make noise, you begin to tiptoe around the forest, trying to be as quick and efficient as you can. It doesn’t take long until you see a break in the forest and somehow quicken your tread to the clearing.

Once you reach the wood's edge, you’re about to take a step into the clearing when you stop yourself.

Kriff, if you step into that open field, you’ll be sticking out like a sore thumb, which is a risk you cannot take. Instead, you’ll have to walk along the sides of the clearing, keeping to the trees and hoping you won’t be spotted.

“Are you really about to step into that glade?”

Your breathing hitches, everything inside you is burning up, adrenaline nearly making you shake uncontrollably.

He’s found you.

He sees you.

Keeping very still, you turn your head in every direction, desperately trying to see where Mando is but you can’t see a fucking thing. You consider making a break for it—which direction, though? Do you turn around and head back into the forest and hope that you’ll be able to lose him in the trees? Do you stick to your guns and continue to make for the mountains?

“Better make up your mind quickly, pretty girl. Time’s running out,” he’s fucking taunting you. Mando knows exactly where you are and is relishing in watching you struggle in deciding what to do next.

There’s something incredibly titillating knowing that he’s watching you, right now. Predator watching prey, observing your every move, waiting for the perfect time to ambush you.

“What are the chances I outrun you?” You breathe into the speaker on your wrist, chest puffing in and out heavily.

Mando doesn’t answer right away, mulling over your question. “Very slim.”

“But not impossible?”

You’re sizing yourself up. You know damn well there isn’t a chance you lose him, not when he’s got eyes on you, but you have an advantage on him. Carrying all that armor on his body makes his movements more abrupt, meaning he’s less agile and relies more on his weapons to catch a bounty rather than his own speed. All you need to do is outrun him, make yourself impossible to catch and then maybe, just maybe, you can reach the other end of the forest without getting snatched.

“What are you planning?”

“’Put up a fight’,” you repeat the last words he said to you. “That’s what you said, right?”

“Yes?”

“Well… Come get me.”

And then you’re racing into the glade, your legs moving as fast as you possibly can. The air whipping passed the burning hot skin on your face, lungs feeling like they’re on fire, you’re running so much faster than you ever thought you could. Maker, you didn’t even know you could sprint this fast. Taking one quick look back over your shoulder, you see Mando break out from the forest edge, racing after you. He’s a couple metres behind you, but he seems to be closing the gap between you quicker than your efforts to gain distance.

Starting to panic, you make a sharp turn to the left, hoping he’ll be caught off guard, giving you just a few more seconds to stretch out the distance.

“I’ll give it to you, you’re much quicker than I thought,” he pants.

You’re so close to the forest, just a few more sprints. With your legs burning and getting tired, these last few metres are either going to make or break you, but with the determination to prove him wrong, you refuse to give up. You can almost taste freedom… just one more step—

And then you’re falling to the ground. Face slamming into the grass so hard, your vision goes fuzzy, and your head is pounding, hearing a faint ringing in your ears. When you turn over on your back, you look down at your legs and see your feet wrapped up in grappling line. Still in somewhat of a daze, you try to unravel the coil from your ankles with haste before Mando can close in on you. The tall grass shields your view, stopping you from seeing anything until it’s directly in your face, which mean he can be just a few feet away without you even knowing it. If you have any chance at slipping passed him, you need to move very fast.

Just as the cord untangles from your legs and you jump to your feet, you see Mando standing in front of you, just a little further than arm’s length away. Standing in place, you freeze up like a prey animal being spotted by its predator. Maker, he’s intimidating, carrying himself with such confidence and gusto that it could make even the more fearless predator cower in his presence and because you can’t see his expressions, you have no idea what he’s thinking under that bucket of his.

“Well, you managed to last two hours,” he notices after checking the time on his vambrace.

Relaxing your shoulders and readying yourself to break off into a sprint for the woods, you cock your head to side and chuckle. “Technically, you haven’t caught me yet.”

He tilts his head ever so slowly to the side, chest puffing out. With caution, he takes a step forward and in turn, you step back, maintaining the little distance between you two.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

“When have I ever made it easy for you?”

The visor’s locked on you. Both of you stand incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the first move.

“Don’t run,” he warns.

It’s impossible to ignore the stirring in your stomach. It’s time to face the facts, you’ve already been defeated. There’s not a chance in hell you can possibly win this. You fucked up, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t have started climbing trees, maybe you should have gone left instead of right. None of those things matter anymore. The only thing that matters how is what your next move is.

“Isn’t this what you really wanted?” His voice hitting low in the register.

Oh?

Does he mean what you think he means? Your pussy gushes, and you’re hit in the face with reality.

You would have to be a fool not to notice the way Mando looks at you on the Crest, and how you look at him. There’s clearly chemistry between you two, maybe even infatuation. It’s been three months since you started travelling with him which means there’s been three months’ worth of sexual tension. Both of you felt it, the electricity in the air whenever you were alone together. The air would get thick, your heartrate would quicken, and you’d wait for him to make a move, but he never did. Whenever you felt like that day was finally the day he’d let go of his devices and fuck you senseless on his ship, he’d retreat to the cockpit and lock himself up for hours, leaving you to take care of yourself in the fresher. It was enough to get the job done, but you wanted him, and you know he felt the same.

So, yeah, you’d be lying to yourself if that idea hadn’t crossed your mind. Getting him in his element, force him to come after you, and when you finally gave in or rather, when he found you, he’d be so caught up in the moment that all the sexual tension that had been building up for the last three months would climax at this very moment. What you couldn’t have anticipated was Mando figuring all of this out and actually calling you out on it.

Slacking your jaw, you lick your bottom lip, staring at the ‘T’ of his visor, realizing that this whole bet was just a façade—that the real reason you started this whole wager was to rile him up.

Mando body shifts, his fingers flexing at his sides.

“Been wanting it for three months, Mando,” you challenge.

He makes a guttural noise in his throat, and now you know you’ve got him. It’s taken three months to get you where you are now. Three months of walking around the Crest, swaying your hips purposely in hopes he’d look at you as you walked by. Three months of not so innocent touches on whatever part of him you could touch. Three months of soft moans and groans, trying to get his attention.

All your hard work is finally going to pay off.

Mando tries to close the gap between you, taking a step towards you. Being the brat you are, you step back.

“You’re really going to make this difficult?” He asks—very much a rhetorical question.

“Come get me, Mando,” the words slip off your tongue, once again trying to entice him.

A game of chicken.

Who’s going to make the first move? Is Mando going to charge for you? Do you let him? Do you turn and try to run away?

In a flash, Mando leaps forward and you’re just quick enough to dodge him, whipping your body towards the forest’s edge and taking large strides forward. You barely make it three feet before there’s more grappling line squeezing your ankles together. Once again, you land on your stomach with just barely enough time to cover your face with your hands.

Now, you know there’s no way you’d be able to get up in time and still somehow slip through his fingers, not that it was ever the point of this bet. You thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of being on the run and having Mando chasing after you but you’re way more interested in what’ll happen next than actually winning.

It’s takes a few seconds for you to get your bearings, and as soon as you begin to push yourself upright, you’re being shoved back into the ground by Mando using his bodyweight against you. He straddles either side of your legs, pushing them together.

“If this is what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” Mando’s voice suddenly whispers in your ear, pressing himself into your body. He bucks his hips against your ass, his erection nuzzled between your cheeks. Propping himself on his elbows so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight, one of his hands grab hold of your waist, digging into your flesh.

Trying to arch your back, you push your ass out to grind against his cock even more. Maker, you want him so fucking badly. Being fucked in an open field where anyone could see you, it’s daring and intoxicating.

Your hands fumble to your pants, trying to unbutton them and slide them down your thighs. Mando senses your urgency and swats your hands away and then his body leaves you momentarily, just long enough for him to tug your trousers down to your knees. It’s rushed, and you’re already panting underneath him, the anticipation eating you up from the inside.

A leather gloved hand grazes your lips, then he’s pushing two fingers in your mouth. The tastes of earth and salt lingering on your tongue.

“Bite,” he instructs.

You oblige and the glove comes off, discarded just inches away from your face. Without skipping a beat, his naked hand travels down your side, and with your ass in the air, he palms your stomach, keeping you in place and forcing you to arch your back even more. The pool of arousal in your stomach is making you squirm, getting more impatient as the seconds go by.

Mando takes his time trailing your lower belly, fingers barely grazing your skin. Your breathing is completely erratic, panting heavily into the ground. When he finally cups your sex, your breath hitches, a sharp inhale escapes your lips.

“Stars, you’re fucking soaked already,” he admires, and then two calloused fingertips are rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Writhing underneath him, you can barely keep still. The pleasure is overwhelming, something you’ve been waiting for for so long, you can’t believe this is really happening

Your hands grab at his waist with haste, trying to remove his pants but because you can’t see what you’re doing, you’re just aimlessly grabbing at him. He sees you struggling and lifts himself off of you. Hearing a small scuffle, he presses his body into your back again, and you feel his freed cock between your cheeks. Maker, he’s huge… is it possible for someone to feel this big when he hasn’t even stuck it in you yet?

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks breathlessly, his own pants scratching low in his helmet.

“Y-y-yes, please,” you croak, your throat already bone dry.

Gathering as much of your slick on his hand as he can, you feel him smear it all over his length and with your ass still shoved up against him, he teases your entrance with his tip. Hands grabbing at his hips with urgency, he actually fucking chuckles and then starts burying himself inside you.

Stars, he’s fucking huge, it almost burns how much he’s stretching your walls. Your eyes wrench shut so hard; you’re seeing stars. It feels like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs, you can’t even make a sound as your jaw fucking drops. He buries himself deeper and deeper—kriff you’re not sure how much more you can take. Your body freezes once he’s fully inside you, teasing your cervix with his head.

“F-f-fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes out once he’s filled you to the hilt. Steadying himself on his palms, his cuirass leaves your back, but he doesn’t move. He just sits there, giving you time to acclimate to his size. “I’ll try to be gentle—”

“No,” you say, cutting him off. “Please, j-just, fuck—do what you want,” you’re basically sobbing already, and he hasn’t even begun to fuck you.

He slowly pulls out and when you feel just the head still inside you, he slams into you so hard, you jerk forwards and cry out, your whole body stilling from being so full.

“You have to be quiet, someone might hear,” he tells you gently, pulling out again ever so slowly.

In an effort to stifle your moans, you bite down hard on your bottom lip, and when he bucks his hips and crashes into you again, you’re unable to stop the shriek that escapes you. Balancing himself on one arm, he grabs the discarded glove by your face and stuffs it into your mouth, gagging you with it and then begins really fucking you.

He drives his cock into you at a grueling speed, stopping his rhythm momentarily to roll his hips against your ass, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. Whatever pathetic noise tries to slip through your lips is muffled by leather and you’re grateful for it because your cries would echo through the field if not for the glove.

Mando drops his weight back on you, feeling his breastplate dig into your back. He lets his cock just sit there as his naked hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure with two fingers. He resumes his pace, jackhammering your pussy with so much force, his balls slapping against your skin echo through the clearing.

“Shit, this—this is what you wa-anted?” He hisses, never once relenting his rhythm.

You couldn’t have planned for how mind-blowing this is. The daydreams, the dreams while you slept, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Nothing in your imagination even comes close to the actual feeling of Mando fucking you senseless in the middle of an open area. You’re so close to your climax already, something no other person has even gotten close to doing. Mando knows how to fuck, how to reach the right spots inside you, how to drive you fucking insane.

“Yes, ah-shit, yes Mando, please, please, it feels so good,” you babble, your mind unable to come up with a coherent thought; instead, you’re reduced to a blubbering mess. Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, they begin streaming down your face.

“Be a good girl and come all over my cock,” he grits out between thrusts.

The grass is tickling your face, he pushes you deeper in the ground with every plunge, and then your orgasm rips through you, waves of white-hot pleasure crashing over you, electrifying your body from the inside out. Clawing at the ground and grabbing fistfuls of dirt, your body tenses and untenses at the same time, you can barely breathe. His hand is still pressing into your neck, making you dizzy from the limited air you can actually take in, as well as your climax punching out of you.

“Yes, fuck—ah shit—stars, you feel so fucking good.”

Mando doesn’t like to talk very much, only speaking when directly addressed, but now he’s a mess. He praises you, repeating words of admiration like it’s a prayer he tells himself at night and knowing you’re the reason for all this chatter just fills you up with pride.

He has incredible stamina, so he doesn’t need to pause in order to catch his breath very often. Mando continues to drill into you with such speed and force, you don’t know how much more you can take. It’s so much better than you thought it could be, you never could have predicted Mando to be so good at fucking you. He knows exactly how to treat your body, how to get the most pleasure out of you, it’s like he already knows you better than you know yourself. His cock rams that spot deep inside you that’s never been touched, nearly blinding you and causing your mind to go blank. You curse the Maker for making you wait this long. Both of you needed this, to take your frustrations and desires out on each other.

It’s primal, the way he thrusts inside you, feeling his cock pulse and twitch as your walls squeeze around him. Mando can barely shut up, if he’s not growling admirations in your ear, he’s keening into the helmet, his baritone hitting so low and rough, it only spurs you on.

The hand on your neck slacks, and then he’s pulling the glove out of your mouth. “Where d-do I—”

“Inside,” you manage to mewl, although your voice is barely above a whisper. “Please.”

“Ah—shit, you want me inside you? Fill your pretty little cunt with my come?”

You make a pathetic noise in your throat, the dryness of it too much for you to actually speak.

“Words, pretty girl. I need you to use your—fuck—words.”

You swallow hard, trying to get some dampness in your throat. “Y-yes.”

Mando growls contently and resumes his ruthless, hard pace. It’s no longer rushed, but with every thrust, he slams into your pussy so hard and hitting your cervix that your body jerks upwards, struggling to keep still. He grinds his hips a couple more times and then he reaches his own climax. You feel his cock throb inside you, filling you up with his seed.

“Fuck!” He snarls into the helmet, keeping it pressed against the side of your head.

You’re completely spent, you can barely move a muscle. Mando’s just fucked the life out of you, and you could lie here for the rest of your life, happy and satisfied. When you feel him start to pull out, with the little strength you gave—which is by no means a lot, you clench your walls around him, trying to keep him inside you.

“Don’t want me to leave?” He jokes.

“Want you inside all the time,” you mumble into the ground.

Mando hums, sheathing himself inside you once again.

“Pretty girl, I’m just getting started with you.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian smut #one-shot #pedrostories #fics

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sagamemes · 3 years

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the sheridan tapes 📼 part one. here and under the cut, you can find a little under 120 lines of dialogue from the horror podcast the sheridan tapes, specifically from episodes one to three, edited for roleplay purposes. tw: police, murder, supernatural elements, mentions of apocalyptic scenarios, near death experiences, injuries, vehicular crash, recreational drug and alcohol use.

❝ jesus, [name]. you’re not making this easy, are you? ❞

❝ makes you wonder... do these things follow me because i chase them, or were they always following me? ❞

❝ darkness and complete disorientation does a number on the human brain. ❞

❝ i don't think he was a werewolf. ❞

❝ i’d call it the customer service smile. you know, the one that says ‘ thank you for shopping with us, please die now ’. ❞

❝ i’ve found the more showy the text, the less impressive the actual phenomena. ❞

❝ my job here is kind of… shaky at the moment. ❞

❝ [name] was also engaged in the study of the impossible in his free time. ❞

❝ so it’s just me who drives you up the wall then? ❞

❝ well, you’ll be happy to hear i haven’t been having any fun. no weed, no ghosts. ❞

❝ there hasn’t been a new lead on her case in more than half a year. ❞

❝ so here i am, wrapped up in a blanket, staring at my little fireplace, so bored i actually decided to call my sister for once. ❞

❝ it’s a little town near bandon. very little. nice little mini-market, and that’s about it. ❞

❝ i doubt i’ll sleep much tonight. that’s okay. i just feel like looking at the stars for a while. ❞

❝ it's probably for the best. i am simultaneously exhausted from the drive and absolutely wired from the coffee. ❞

❝ i wonder if there will still be ghosts out there when that happens? when the earth is gone? ❞

❝ glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself, then. ❞

❝ knowing doesn’t make things any easier, but it does make them a little less frightening. ❞

❝ that’s all just a lazy way of saying that the real explanation is too difficult—or too horrible—for them to accept. ❞

❝ it almost killed me, but in the end it settled for putting me in pt for a year while i figured out how to use my hands again. ❞

❝ he muttered something about my time being up. or maybe he said it wasn’t up. ❞

❝ i don’t really care that i didn’t get any writing done today. ❞

❝ nothing. not a single idea worth writing down, no itch i needed to scratch or question i needed to answer. ❞

❝ guess there really is no such thing as bad press. ❞

❝ i have no idea what a writer’s ‘ process ’ usually looks like, but i’m pretty sure it’s not this. ❞

❝ see what i have to deal with? god… siblings, am i right? ❞

❝ what can i say? i have a soft spot for gothic architecture. ❞

❝ computers have never been very good at reconciling paradoxes. ❞

❝ they’re pretty much over funding my little expeditions. ❞

❝ that kind of smile doesn’t normally show that many teeth. ❞

❝ you know, that’s only scary the first few times you do it. ❞

❝ one day, it will be dead. one day all the stars will burn out, go dark and silent. one day, everything will be so dark and so cold that no new stars can ever be born. the old ones will blink out one by one, like candles going out, and then… nothing. silence. darkness. void. ❞

❝ the simplest explanation is almost always the right one. ❞

❝ i don’t remember getting in my van, putting the key in the ignition, or speeding away from that house, but i must have. ❞

❝ no, no, i’m fine, i’m fine, just go bother someone else. ❞

❝ i haven’t eaten, moved, or written anything all day. ❞

❝ but maybe that's just the fact that it is two in the morning and my brain is running mostly on caffeine. ❞

❝ given how good a [job] he is, i know it’s not the first time he’s done it. ❞

❝ i escaped, but i knew that whatever was in that house has just marked me as prey. ❞

❝ calm down. think. you’re just going to confuse yourself. ❞

❝ just wanted to tell you a couple of us are headed out to marvin’s for drinks if you want to come. ❞

❝ one of the most disappointing things about living in america is the lack of genuinely haunted houses. out of all the supposed haunts i’ve visited, maybe one in ten seems like the real deal. ❞

❝ sounds… peaceful. not many distractions, then? ❞

❝ something tells me this tape wasn’t played in court. ❞

❝ one of the neighbours must have called 911. ❞

❝ my infamous accident. it almost killed me. ❞

❝ i just woke up to footsteps in the kitchen. i don’t know who, or what, but there’s someone in here with me! ❞

❝ could you shut the door on your way out, please? ❞

❝ uh, wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. ❞

❝ the fire that i said went out? yeah, it just started burning again. ❞

❝ so i asked him to lie. ❞

❝ it'd really be just a few of us. maybe me and [name] and one or two other tagalongs… ❞

❝ apparently, the press had a lot of questions too. ❞

❝ i’ve driven more than 8 hours and drunk enough bad coffee to give an elephant heart palpitations. i’m sure as hell going to get my money’s worth. ❞

❝ oh sorry, am i bothering you now? what happened to ‘ call anytime you want, [name] ’ or, ‘ you’re always welcome here, [name] ’ ? ❞

❝ i’ve forgotten to charge my phone. again. ❞

❝ i… think i’m going to turn around now. ❞

❝ well sorry if i wanted to have a nice talk with my sister for a change. ❞

❝ will it just be left there forever? our legacy? look upon our works, ye mighty, and despair? ❞

❝ no matter how far away from home you are, no matter how different the constellations might look from where you’re standing, you can always look up on a clear, dark night and feel like you’re about to fall right into it—the terrifying, endless expanse of nothingness. ❞

❝ i know authors can do some crazy things to get out of writer’s block, but i’ve never heard of one resorting to arson. ❞

❝ why do you always think there’s something wrong? ❞

❝ ours is not to question why, ours is but to digitize and stay the hell out of trouble. ❞

❝ so let’s try walking backwards. just keep an eye on it. ❞

❝ i got lucky. or maybe i was just fast enough to escape. ❞

❝ maybe there are secret passages behind the walls and corridors. ❞

❝ no matter how far i walked, i couldn’t find the way i came in. ❞

❝ well, i /know/ i’ve had worst nights. i just can’t think of any right now. ❞

❝ i do want you to have fun, [name], i just don’t want you to get yourself killed doing it. ❞

❝ i mean, obviously, i do care, that’s the whole reason i made this trip. to get away from the noise and focus. ❞

❝ i might have… forgotten to tell anyone where i was going. ❞

❝ before i get started, there’s just one thing i need to say. i have absolutely no patience for the unexplained, or the things people call ‘ unexplainable ’, ‘ supernatural ’, or ‘ paranormal ’. ❞

❝ i told [name] that i needed to get out, to get inspired. ❞

❝ okay, if someone is messing with me, they’re going to be very sorry, very quickly. ❞

❝ [name] lied his ass off to save yours. ❞

❝ a crash like that does funny things to your head. ❞

❝ i still don’t know how he got there without me noticing. ❞

❝ any plans i had to travel abroad went up in smoke. ❞

❝ i thought of pulling out the bad cop routine. ❞

❝ strange how something so dead can be so beautiful. ❞

❝ it hated me: hated what i do, and more than that, hated who i am. ❞

❝ lots of tall tales. and more than a few ghost stories. ❞

❝ oh good, you’re still here! ❞

❝ reviewers absolutely grilled it: said it was a nonsensical rip off of the dark tower, whatever that means. ❞

❝ i jumped out the window. cut my hands on the glass, but thankfully not bad enough to need stitches ❞

❝ i told her, tonight. ❞

❝ for a minute, i wondered if that would really be so bad. it was a fitting way to go, given my… well, everything. ❞

❝ i suppose that’s a universal constant—maybe the only one. ❞

❝ i never let myself get this turned around. especially not at night. ❞

❝ i don’t know if it’s actually haunted. but if not, then it was sure as hell convincing. ❞

❝ i’m not one of those people who thinks she’s the spawn of satan or something ridiculous like that. ❞

❝ unless i’m prepared to accept that she was murdered by something that crawled out of a funhouse mirror, this isn’t much help with the case, either. ❞

❝ i have to try and work some actual cases the rest of the time. you know, cases that might have some answers i can find. ❞

❝ it's cold, damp, and dark as night. i'm in my element, at least. ❞

❝ your place is waiting for you. ❞

❝ yeah, i’m all good. great… hanging in there, you know? one day at a time. ❞

❝ oh, i see you. you think i’m still scared of [thing], huh? think you can freak me out? ❞

❝ trust me, i’ve had a hell of a day, and you do not want to mess with a pissed off… ❞

❝ and tell my sister i'm sorry. ❞

❝ oh god, it's cold. ❞

❝ the night sky really is beautiful out here. ❞

❝ tell him he shouldn’t have been such a good liar. ❞

❝ i’ve been listening to this for the last two weeks now. ❞

❝ it’s not even that i’m having bad ideas. i’m not having any at all. ❞

❝ can’t get away from the work, no matter what i do. ❞

❝ i made sure i switched off my phone before i came up here, just in case. ❞

❝ god, these things smell of weed. ❞

❝ yeah, well… just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you know? ❞

❝ [name] is dead. that's all there is to it. ❞

❝ no, i need to get out of here. it’s been a long day. ❞

❝ a lot of the art i found was just paintings of a night sky full of stars. ❞

❝ my job is to look the facts dead in the face and find an explanation. one that will hold up in a court of law. ❞

❝ personal and career choices, i guess you’d call them. ❞

❝ damn. i could’ve sworn i felt something strange about this place when i hiked through this morning… or maybe it was a different part. hard to tell this late at night, anyway. ❞

❝ well, let’s just say a middle-aged man-child running out panicked and tearing at his eyes would hardly be a marketable image. ❞

❝ i didn’t mind that i’d be alone—i always expected that to be how i went. ❞

❝ i’m sure that’s on my personnel file by now, as if it could get any more problematic. ❞

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #starters #rp starters #* sentences.#* meme.#sheridan

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floorbe · 4 years

Note

hello could you do a thing where instead of ishimaru, reader got bonked on the head and after the trial he discovers her standing infront of his door knocking on it. pls I just want angst with a happy ending for our boi.

this request scratched a very specific itch in my brain that i did not know i had. thank u sm

A part of him wishes he still had Kiyondo, because then at least he would be feeling anger, and at least anger is more manageable than grief. But he’d stopped feeling angry the minute he saw you laying on that floor. It was his anger that led to this. His anger that pushed you away, that told you he didn’t need you anymore, that you were nothing compared to him and his bro being together again.

If he had kept you close to him maybe he could’ve convinced you not to go.

Maybe you would still be alive; talking with him during breakfast, grinning with that award winning smile of yours whenever he offered to study together, pouting whenever you’d get a question wrong...

But he hadn’t. And now you’re gone.

And now he’s really alone, because the flames he felt from Kiyondo are gone, any comfort he felt from feeling like his bro was still with him is gone, Alter Ego is gone, and now you’re gone.

Why bother anymore? What else was there to live for if everyone he cared about was dead?

He’s snapped from his thoughts as he’s nearly shoved into the execution room by Yasuhiro (“C’mon, man, Monokuma will kill you, too, if you don’t come.” But would that be anything less than he deserves?) to watch Celeste be punished.

He can’t bring himself to muster any sort of feeling for the presentation. The only reason he turns away is because the flames licking at her form remind him of himself.

He doesn’t need to be guided back to his room by Yasuhiro after the execution. He trails behind the rest of the group, eyes trained on the tips of his boots as they quietly tap against the tile. He only falters in front of the cafeteria, lingering in front of it as everyone continues on, returning to their dorms without a second glance behind them.

His vision begins to blur with new unshed tears, breath hitching as he remembers all of the mornings he spent with you, the few mornings he spent with you and Mondo, chatting languidly as if this game didn’t exist. The excitement he felt at the idea of his first friends.

His vision only begins to clear as tears drip down his face again. He has to rip himself away from gazing into the cafeteria, fists clenching almost painfully as he stiffly walks back to his dorm, hoping to clear any memories of you by leaving.

As he approaches the dorms he hears a soft knocking, and he furrows his eyebrows. Rubbing at the leftover tears roughly with his sleeve, he halts just before turning the corner into the hall. Everyone should be in their dorms right now... was someone attempting another murder? Needing comfort after a trial?

He feels another pang in his heart at the latter, mind forcing him to remember how you’d knocked on his door after Mondo’s trial, staying with him all night as he sobbed in your arms. Shaking his head vigorously, he sniffles and turns to start down the hall. If someone was going to kill him, so be it.

He freezes as soon as his eyes meet the shaking form of someone knocking on what turns out to be his door. This has to be a hallucination, or Monokuma playing a sick joke on him, because he swears he’s looking at you, but it couldn’t be, he saw you die; he held your body in his arms-

But the way your head is caked with dry blood is telling him he must’ve made a mistake, because it seems like you’re still alive, shaking and weak, and knocking on his door. Snapping out of his frozen state, he rushes towards you, and any doubts of you being fake are flung from his mind as soon as you turn to lock eyes with him.

He doesn’t try to hold back his loud sobs as he nearly yanks you into his arms, clutching you like you’re a lifeline. His bawling only intensifies as you wrap your arms around him, whimpering as you pull yourself even closer to him. He buries his face into your shoulder, shuddering as he feels you clutch at his uniform because it only further proves to him that you’re here.

His chest heaves as he tries to calm himself enough to speak to you, to ask how you survived, only to break down again when he feels you start to cry as well. You cling to each other, not daring to loosen your grip for even a moment, as if fearful of being ripped away from the other again.

He only pulls away once he remembers that you’re still injured, there’s still dry blood on your head, and you likely need to be treated as soon as possible. He keeps you close in his grasp, and you seem to share the same need for closeness, because you keep a hold on his arms to keep him from pulling farther back.

“Y-your head,” Taka finally chokes out, “H-how...?” He takes a shaky breath in, trying to collect himself enough to speak without crying again, “W-we need to treat it. There’s a n-nurses office on th-this floor.”

You sniffle, eyes still shining with tears, and he resists the urge to pull you back in for another hug, because it’s you, you’re really alive, and he doesn’t want to let go of you. “Y-yeah,” you murmur, “Can- um... I-I’m really weak still, s-so would you m-mind c-carr...” Your voice cracks and breaks off, hoarse from not talking, and he’s reminded of just how frail you look right now, how the your trembling isn’t just because of your tears.

Fortunately, he’s able to deduce what you’re asking for, nodding as he slides his arms to rest on your back and near the back of your knees. You wrap your arms around his neck, locking them in place as he lifts you into his arms as gently as he can. He ignores the slight heat rushing to his face as he you nestle your face into the crook of his neck, instead focusing on making sure you stay awake as he carries you to the nurse’s office to treat your injury.

#kiyotaka ishimaru x reader #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa scenarios #danganronpa x reader #kiyotaka ishimaru #danganronpa #thh #Anonymous

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years

Text

metempsychosis: t. holland series (pt. 3)

a/n | we’re finally getting to the good stuff :-) now that i’m turning this into a submission for a competition i’m having to change all of the names and tenses (bc i can’t submit “y/n” to professionals) so hopefully there aren’t too many typos !

synopsis | A young couple whose lives were both lost in a tragic accident are reincarnated as new people. As they collide as strangers in their second lives, they must try to make sense of the innate connection they feel.

cw | reincarnation au. language, fluff, a lil angst, flashbacks. this one ain’t too sad. 2.6k words.

Read part 2, join the taglist

1993

{ He took a gulp as he opened the door to see her sweet face waiting to be let in. “Hey, glad you found me,” he laughed nervously, arm reaching up and over to scratch at a nonexistent itch on the back of his head.

She wandered through the doorframe, taking in the smell of his apartment, counting the dirty dishes in the sink, smiling at the family photos he had on display. “I’m glad we’re finally getting around to having a movie night,” she grinned back.

“Sorry, you know how crazy school has been-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Chemistry this and med school that. I can’t believe I’ve found myself swooning over such a nerd.”

“Says the girl who prefers numbers to real people.”

She gave him a dramatic slap to the shoulder, feigning offense. “Just put on the movie before I ditch you for some spreadsheets.”

He gave her lower arm a lighthearted squeeze and guided her over to the couch, putting the tape in and plopping down next to her. He grabbed a blanket off of the armrest and whipped it up in the air, letting it fall spread out across her lap. She looked surprised at his intuitiveness. “I remember you telling me you can’t watch a home movie without a good blanket,” he said.

Her eyes crinkled at the edges at his attention to detail, picking up the corner closest to him and motioning for him to take half of the quilt. “Then you shouldn’t, either.”

The rom-com had an argument scene between the protagonist and his love interest where they disputed over who took what side of the bed the first time they slept together. He laughed at the silliness of it all as she sank further into his body as their chests rose and fell.

“Do you think we’ll need to pick sides of the bed?” he whispered as the scene changed.

“This is only our second date- I won’t be sleeping in your bed anytime soon, mister,” she smiled, stare still pointed at the screen.

“Well, fine, but it seems like this is a conversation we need to have if we have any chance of making it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Let’s just pick sides of the couch then!” She looked down at her own lap, then at his. “I’m on the left side right now, so I’m claiming it as mine.”

“Wait, I didn’t even get a chance to experience the left side!’

“This is your couch,” she rolled her eyes at his playful tone.

“So I’m just stuck with the right?”

“Yes.”

“Forever?!”

“What other option would there be?”

He huffed in disapproval, but as time and movie dates passed, he had carved his own dugout in the left couch cushion that fit him like a glove. If he ever wasn’t on the right side of her, looking at her side profile from that specific angle, he couldn’t help but feel out of place. When they did finally share a bed, there was no need to fuss over who took which side, and no matter how many new couches they went through in different moves at different stages of their life, he sat to the right, learning to keep a throw pillow on his lap to anticipate her inevitably lying down and resting her head on it. }

You walked over to Tom, the soft padding of your feet against the wooden floors ringing out as the only sound in the suddenly quiet apartment.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Uh, coffee, if you have it,” he replied, still clutching the throw pillow in his lap.

“Really? At 8pm?”

“Yeah, caffeine doesn’t affect me, I have one of those recessed genes or something.”

You shrugged and obliged, happy to have something to keep you busy as you paced over to the kitchen to brew the coffee, holding your hip. Tom swiveled around to watch you work.

His words sliced through the silence. “Are you feeling any better than earlier? You seemed pretty off in the car-”

“I’m fine.” You didn’t want to replay the emotions you felt while Tom was driving in your head, so you cut him off before he could keep talking about it. “Here’s your coffee.”

He took a sip and burned his tongue, scrunching up his face in such a cute way that you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Fuck, that’s hot!” he started fanning his stuck out tongue like it would do something, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk when he noticed you were laughing.

“I’m sorry, you literally just watched me brew it...” You shrugged, still entertained by his dramatic display.

The mood changed then and you were finally able to loosen yourselves up, able to chime in with conversation, exchanging eye contact that didn’t make either one of you nauseous. Now that you had the chance to look into Tom’s eyes for a little while longer, you was able to see just how mesmerizingly milky they were.

He continued in a panic. “I can’t lose my tongue! That’s how I make a living!”

You raised an eyebrow at him and he shot back a face of realization.

“That did not come out how I meant it to.”

You giggled again, pulling a blanket over your lap.

“I meant because I sing-”

“Yeah, Tom, I figured.”

You both had laugh lines splaying across your faces and you felt yourself settle back into the cushions a little easier, growing more used to being in his presence. Once you had given it a chance, you and Tom actually got along quite well.

“Speaking of which, can I hear something?”

“You want me to play for you?”

“Well, I’m an artist and you got to see my work...so, yeah,” you smiled, poking at his shoulder.

“Um, I don’t have my guitar,” Tom blurted out an excuse, because he was currently terrified of singing to you; you already made him excitedly nervous enough.

But you weren’t letting him off the hook that easy. “Isn’t it just in your car?”

“...so you saw it, then.” He sighed in defeat, getting up to get his keys.

“Yep.”

“You’re really gonna make me sing for you?”

You smiled and nodded at him.

“It’s the least you can do now that I’ve graciously opened my home and my coffee pot up to you.”

He shook his head as he laughed and ran out to grab the instrument. Once he was settled back down on the sofa, you watched him with your head tilted to the side as he became lost in the strings, tuning and then strumming onto them a truly beautiful melody. He saw you in his peripheral so seemingly enthralled watching him play, your bottom lip half bitten as you focused on his hands and fingers moving.

“Well, truthfully, I haven’t come up with anything good in a few days,” he said, still in denial that his dreamy muse had abandoned him. “So what’s a song you know? I’ll just play a cover.”

You pondered for too long on the question, thinking your answer would hold a lot more weight about your character than it actually did. Tom was far from that kind of deep thinking; he was too busy taking in the way your wavy hair framed your hollow cheeks.

“How about ‘Iris’?” You took a chance on one of your favorite old songs, assuming he wouldn’t know how to play it.

“Ah, a classic.” He started to pluck out the first few notes, and you were amazed that he already knew it by heart. But where you expected to hear the lyrics come in, Tom stayed silent. He looked over to your confused expression and stopped the music.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna sing the words?”

“It’s not really in my range. You can though, if you want?”

You sat upright. “Me?”

“Well, if you wanna hear the words that badly,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

“Ugh, fine.”

“Wow, she paints and sings?”

“Hey, do you want me to or not?!”

He chuckled at you, loving how rosy your cheeks had gotten, and started the song over, his hands on autopilot.

You sang the first few words of the first verse, and upon hearing your voice, Tom’s jaw all but fell to the floor; he was completely awestruck.

That voice. He knew that voice.

1993

{ He sat slouched on his barstool, listening to someone do a country song a great injustice up on the microphone.

“Why did you drag me to this, mate?”

“To a bar?”

“To a bar with an open mic. I can’t listen to a Beatles’ classic being sung off key for a third time tonight.” He popped the top off of another beer and chugged it down as another amateur made their way to the front of the room.

The girl on the stage started to sing and he all but did a spit take. Her voice was incredible, melting into his ears like smooth butter. And once he turned to look at her, well, that was all it took. He had waded through the bar crowd so quickly that she was barely off the makeshift stage when he approached her, blurting out “Hi, you’re so beautiful, I mean, your voice, I mean...uh, can I buy you a drink?” and kicking himself afterwards for not even trying an ounce to playing it cool. But it didn’t matter; one look was all it took for her, too. }

Tom racked his brain as you continued to sing, your voice echoing through the apartment like an angelic aura. That was it, he thought, she sounds like the singing voice in his dreams—and the day he’d met you was the same day he’d stopped dreaming—no, no...that wasn’t possible.

But he couldn’t shake the eerie thought from his head. Were you trapped in his brain until he met you in person? Had his angel manifested itself into the beautiful singing girl sitting next to him?

He stopped the song halfway through as he felt a rush of copper through his forehead and down to his nose. Shit.

“Um, where’s your bathroom?” he shot up and covered his nose with his sleeve, his guitar haphazardly falling onto the couch behind him.

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” you answered, confused. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just gotta-” Tom bolted down the hall and shut the bathroom door abruptly, uncovering his face in the small mirror to see a familiar trickle of red pooling above his upper lip. When he reentered the living room after cleaning himself up, he hadn’t realized that his blood had stained the collar of his t-shirt.

“Tom, you have...” you stood up and made her way over to him, touching your finger to his shirt. He looked down in horror and sighed heavily.

“Yeah, it’s…I’m sorry. I get these nosebleeds.”

You smiled up at him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I might have an extra shirt lying around, if you want it?”

Mortified but infatuated with how warming your touch was, Tom smiled back. “That would be great.”

You came out of your room with a t-shirt in hand. “This is the only one I have that will probably fit you,” you shrugged, tossing it to him and trying not to let your smile show as he stretched to take off his shirt right in front of you, revealing quite the body underneath. You pretended to busy yourself with something, anything, so he wouldn’t notice that you were watching him—but he did, and he didn’t mind it.

Tom’s phone lit up with a call in that moment, and he picked up to hear the tow trucker on the other end.

“Hey, sorry to let you know we won’t be getting out to your area for another few hours, turns out the truck lost its own tire on the freeway and we’re stranded,” the voice said, causing Tom to pace around the living room, speaking curtly with the man on the phone.

“Okay, right, thanks, bye.” He hung up and turned to you, pouting.

“My insurance is shit,” he shook his head. “They won’t be here for hours.”

You feigned upset, but neither of you were too unhappy about the opportunity to spend more time together.

“...do you have anything stronger than coffee?”

You winked at Tom as you made your way back into the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

You passed the night away, mixing your coffee with rum and childhood memories with the anecdotes of a broken heart. As the hours trickled by, you sank closer on the old couch; you kept track of Tom’s heartbeat, watching his chest rise and fall in rhythm, and he kept losing his train of thought in the gold specks of your eyes.

You opened up to him about your disability, and upon seeing you become so open, so vulnerable with him, Tom couldn’t help but lean forward, place a light hand around the shape of your cheek, and capture your lips in his own. Upon the contact, you both felt as if you had been delightfully tased—and it sent your head reeling.

You saw fragmented scenes in your head—images of flashing lights, a shouting couple, a tender, loving kiss frozen in time. As Tom pulled back, the fantastical man in your head followed suit, and you doubled over on the couch as a shock of familiarity churned your stomach at the realization that the man had been a dead match for Tom.

The flashes continued, and the girl on the receiving end of the kiss became less pixellated; you felt the warmth of a lifetime of memories flooding your system as you registered that the girl in the images was, in fact, you yourself.

Tom held you upright as you held your face in your hands, shaking your head softly. “y/n, what just happened? Was it the kiss? Did I read the room wrong? I’m-”

“No, Tom, it wasn’t you, I just…” you trailed off, bolting up from the couch and quickly pacing to the kitchen. “I need some water.”

He watched you from his seat with concern, readying himself to run to your rescue, just as he heard the loud, startling sound of a horn. The tow truck had finally made it.

“You should go,” you said, refusing to turn around and look Tom in the eye for fear of making any more sense of what she’d just seen.

“y/n-”

“Please go.”

“Please tell me I can see you again.”

You thought on that for a moment, frightened but unready to let go of this mystery.

“Okay.” You remained staring out of the kitchen window.

Tom stood up and silently exited the apartment, closing the door softly behind him, wondering where in time and space he had just lost your thoughts. As he arrived home much later and finally succumbed to sleep, he wasn’t able to rest long as he was visited by his own nightmare.

He had been in the driver’s seat of his car, unidentified noises pinging here and there as he heard someone mumbling, unable to discern their words. He turned to the passenger, his vision lagging as it made its way to her, and saw none other than you, yourself but not, crying softly, the vividness of your features making the dream feel more like a memory. As he tried to lend a comforting hand—the arm in his dream seemingly extending a mile away to reach you—the car was hit with a blinding force, and the vision went black as he was jolted awake.

#metempsychosis #reincarnation!au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shots #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

From A Whisper To A Scream (4/10)

warnings: torture basically, sprinkle in a little trauma

1 | 2 | 3 |

ao3

“Alright, you got five seconds to come out of there.”

Michael froze, laying on the backseat of the broken-down ‘97 Audi. He was hoping if he stayed still enough, Sanders would forget he ever saw any kind of movement. Did he move? He couldn’t remember. He must’ve dozed off.

“Now, I ain’t about to tell you again. Get out of there.”

Michael closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. He’d been trying at the junkyard for a couple of weeks now with no problem. He knew it was too good to be true. Slowly, he sat up and made eye contact with Old Manes Sanders. He gestured for Michael to get out and Michael listened.

“You gonna tell me why you’re in there at 7 in the morning or am I supposed to read your mind?” Sanders asked. Michael just stared straight ahead.

“I’ll leave, don’t worry about it,” Michael said. Sanders snorted a laugh.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere until you tell me what’s goin’ on,” Sanders told him. Michael glared. At fifteen, he wasn’t as tall as Sanders, but he was nothing if not willing to overcompensate with anger.

“I’m not telling you shit.”

“Don’t get snappy with me, boy,” Sanders said, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” Michael snapped. Sanders took a deep breath, giving him a very unimpressed look. But it wasn’t pity either. That was the only thing keeping him from storming off.

“Look, you ain’t gotta tell me specifics, but, that home you’re supposed to be at, it’s so bad that you’re sleepin’ in the junkyard? Or is it you just feeling rebellious?” Sanders asked. Anger boiled beneath Michael’s skin at the insinuation that he was overreacting. Max did that stuff even when he was well-meaning. Just because he didn’t spill every tiny detail didn’t mean he was a liar.

Despite his better judgment, Michael pulled up his sleeve and showed the healing burn mark on his arm that had directly covered an older burn scar they put there before. Forever engraved with a cross, reminding him that he was a freak of nature when it came to these humans. But he wasn’t about to let Sanders drag him back.

“Come inside, eat somethin’ ‘cause you look like a sack of bones, and then we’re headin’ over to that house.”

“No!” Michael yelled, a little more desperation in his voice than he intended.

“We’re gonna head over there,” Sanders repeated, louder and firmer, “So you can get your shit. Then we’re gonna find your social worker and figure out what we need to do to make sure you stay out of places like that.”

“What?” Michael scoffed, “You don’t think they’re gonna just throw me somewhere else for running? Juvie, this time, probably.”

“Well, if things go like they should’ve gone damn near a decade ago now, you’ll stay with me and I ain’t gonna put up with the running away shit,” Sanders said. It shut Michael right up.

He didn’t understand what he was being told. It almost sounded like someone wanted to keep him around.

“Why?” Michael asked cautiously.

Sanders sighed and looked everywhere but at him.

“Long time ago, I met a nice lady who took care of me like I was her own and she showed me where her own actually was. Made a promise I’d keep an eye out for him and I ain’t about to break it now,” he said, leaving out far too many details. Michael felt like he got punched in the gut and his head spun. He didn’t understand.

“Wait, does that mean you know‒” my mom, what I am, where I’m from, what I’m capable of, if I’m dangerous, “That I‒”

“You want breakfast or not?” Sanders asked gruffly, already walking away.

Michael ran after him.

Michael gasped back into consciousness and Eff stood over him with confused eyes and an acupuncture needle in his hand.

“What’d you see?” Eff asked.

“When my dad decided he was gonna adopt me,” Michael said. Eff made a face like that was disappointing, but he nodded and took a few steps back to record it in his notebook. Michael lifted a shaky hand to rub the nearly invisible hole on his left temple.

Apparently, aliens had very similarly placed pressure points to humans, but they did very different things. Provoking them could trigger powers or memories or any number of things that the brain could do in someone’s subconscious. It took them a few tries to find the exact point on Michael’s head to stab a needle into, but, when he found it, he was thrown back to being just a kid.

“Let’s test your telekinetic limit again, see if that affected it in any way,” Eff said, taking the gloves off and dropping the needle into a glass of some ambiguously clear substance to sterilize it.

Michael stood to his feet, feeling a little dizzy from the memory. Eff gave him the space to do so and waited for him to get steady before they walked outside.

Eff’s workplace of choice was a small shed in the middle of nowhere. No one lived for miles in any direction and the only way someone could find it is if they knew where it was and they were willing to drive 45 minutes into the desert. It had a couch, a cot, a bathroom, and a kitchen area. Most of the shed, though, was covered in equipment to test on Michael.

It turns out, though, that everything got a lot less scary the more he was there. Yeah, Eff was still mean and he never let Michael truly forget that he didn’t see him as an equal, but, for the most part, it wasn’t that bad. Or at least he’d focused on the bright side. This was the first person who was allowing and actively encouraging Michael to explore things about himself that he’d never gotten the chance to. If this was his fate, it wasn’t the worst.

So what if it was slightly off his game and tired and hadn’t had nearly enough alone time with Alex. It was better than having none of those at all.

“Alright, lift the truck again,” Eff said, pulling out his stopwatch, “And I swear to God, if you drop it again, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Rolling his eyes, Michael held out his hand and focused. The 5,000lb truck was definitely a strain on his abilities, but it felt so nice. It was like an itch that he’d been waiting to scratch, a muscle being stretched, a lung filling with air. This was what he needed. Yesterday, he’d been able to hold it up for 45 seconds before he got a nosebleed and dropped it. Before the needle, he’d again only got to 45 seconds before he had to put it down to prevent dropping it again. No nosebleed.

Now, a little stretched out and a little more excited about what he could do, he fought through the shakiness and ignored the itchy feeling of an oncoming bloody nose. He breathed steadily and just focused. Eventually, though, he gave out and put the car down, dropping to his knees and catching his breath. He wiped his nose and caught his breath.

“One minute, seven seconds. Not bad,” Eff said. Michael smiled. “Now throw the ball.”

Michael took a few extra seconds to breathe before slowly getting back to his feet. He turned his attention to the steel ball that was somewhere around 100lbs, give or take. Michael breathed in deep before picking it up and hurling it as hard as his body would allow at a mat that was propped up 20 yards away that was only there to stop it from going too far.

“Only 35mph,” Eff said.

“You didn’t give me enough time to recover,” Michael argued.

“Doesn’t excuse your shitty number,” he said. Michael clenched his jaw. And he was almost doing good. “Get inside, we’re doing a few more pressure points.”

“Do you know when you’ll let me go home? I have homework,” Michael said, still staring out into the distance.

“Why are you doing homework still?” Eff scoffed.

Michael was about to ask why he wouldn’t, but then he remembered who he was talking to. Eff didn’t see a need because he didn’t think Michael would have a future.

He’d be the one personally making sure he didn’t.

Alex walked into the Crashdown with his eyes tied to his phone.

Ever since last Saturday had ended in him holding Michael all night, things had been a little weird. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, just that Michael’s mind wasn’t always with him. He wasn’t begging Alex to come over every night like he usually did, simply satisfied with making out in the back of the truck before Alex had to go home. Tuesday Alex had gone to his house to surprise him only to be told Michael wasn’t home. It’d caused so much embarrassment Alex refused to even drive in that direction unless Michael specifically asked ever again.

Alex didn’t want to push or assume or be that guy. Being with Michael was fun and nice, but there was clearly something going on with him and if he was having second thoughts about them, Alex wasn’t about to try and beg him to stay. Besides, it might not even be that. He might be embarrassed for breaking down or there might be a football thing Alex didn’t know about or any number of things. He didn’t know, he hadn’t really gotten the chance to ask. He wasn’t going to act like Michael was pulling away until he knew for sure. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t stare at his phone.

Good timing, too, because it rang.

“Hello, littlest brother,” Flint said loudly into the phone, clearly on speaker with the sound of a car running in the background. Alex smiled just as Arturo, the owner of the Crashdown, came up to take his order.

“Hey, give me one second,” he said, moving the phone to tell Arturo his order. He nodded and told him to tell Flint that he said hi. “Mr. Ortecho said hi.”

“Hello, Mr. Ortecho!” Flint said loud enough that Arturo heard it. He chuckled and walked back into the kitchen. “So, I got some good news.”

“What is it? You finally got that stick surgically removed from your ass?”

“I’m personally offended by that. I thought we were on the same team when it came to the stick being in Clay’s ass,” Flint said. Alex huffed a laugh. “No, but I’m coming into town soon.”

“Wait, for real?” Alex asked, excitement coursing through his system. As much as his brothers annoyed him and he thought Flint was just as lame for listening to their father, he loved them. He also loved not having to be alone with his dad all the time. “When?”

“I’m thinking Monday or Tuesday? Soon, I’ll keep you updated so we can make plans,” Flint said, “Gotta give some shit to Dad.”

“Okay, yeah, can’t wait,” Alex said.

“Tell me something fun, though, what’s going on with you? Anything new?” Flint asked.

Alex bit down on his lip and wondered if he should mention Michael. He wanted to. He never really came out to Flint, but he was pretty sure Flint knew and didn’t care. Either way, he wanted to share like he shared with Maria and Liz even if it was just because he wanted to say “hey look at this thing I got even though Dad said no”. Even though he was kind of unsure about where exactly they stood, this was still an achievement. This was still his. That counted.

“I’ve, uh,” he said, glancing around quickly. There was a table of cheerleaders from his school in the corner, but they were too far to hear. “I’ve kinda been talking to someone.”

“Oh, what? My baby brother is suddenly not such a baby?” Flint teased. Alex smiled and rolled his eyes.

“My not being a baby has nothing to do with having a relationship. I haven’t been a baby for a long time.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll believe that one day, maybe,” Flint said, “So, tell me about them.”

“It’s not, like, super serious or anything,” Alex said, hesitating just a little as he considered if he was ready to officially come out via pronouns, “But… he’s really nice and smart and I like him a lot. I think you’d like him, he’s got the same rebellious-but-not-really vibe you do.”

“Oh, so you chose someone with the same vibe as me? Glad I showed you what good taste was,” Flint said. Alex laughed. When Arturo brought his tray over, he mouthed his thanks. “Well, is he making you happy? Does he know you have a brother who will kick his ass if he isn’t?”

“He does make me happy, yeah,” Alex promised, “But I’m not telling him your threats.”

“Fair enough,” he said, “Maybe I can tell him myself when I come to see you.”

Alex chewed on his lip for a second. “I don’t know, I’d have to ask him.”

“Well, do that. We’ll even go somewhere outside of Roswell if it makes you two feel a little better.”

“I’ll ask,” Alex repeated, “And, uh, thanks. For being cool.”

“You say that like I’m not the coolest person you know,” Flint said, “Alright, weirdo, I’ll let you eat. Call you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Alex put his phone down, feeling more confident that he had in a few days. He probably wasn’t actually going to ask Michael. Things were already a little weird and he didn’t want to press, so he’d probably just lie and say Michael wasn’t ready for all that. But, still, it was nice to know that Flint asked. He was interested.

It gave him enough confidence to text Michael first, deciding that it wasn’t too needy to reach out instead of waiting for Michael to do it. He sent a simple hey and then got to his food.

“Hey, Alex,” a sing-songy voice said. Alex looked towards it to see one of the cheerleaders. He furrowed his eyebrows, chewing slower as she sat on the stool beside him. She had never said a word to him before. He didn’t even know her name.

“Uh, hi?”

“Sorry if I’m bothering you, but I wanted to come talk to you. I mean, we’re friends, right?” she said. Alex felt like he was falling into a trap.

“I guess.”

“I just wanted to let you know that when you come to the games, you can sit up front with the rest of the guys’ girlfriends,” she said. Alex kept staring at her with a confused expression. “If you come, I mean. I haven’t seen you at any of the games before.”

“Why would I go to a football game?” Alex asked slowly. She smiled even wider.

“To watch Michael play, silly,” she said, “It’s a part of dating a football player.”

“I’m not dating a football player,” Alex said. And he wasn’t. Or, at least, not that she needed to know. He didn’t owe any of them that knowledge.

“Come on, you can tell me,” she pressed. He just stared. “I’m just letting you know that you’re welcome to sit by us. We can all gossip. We’d love to hear what it’s like to actually date Michael. He’s always been super interested in just really quiet hookups. I guess I can see why.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex said. He still couldn’t quite tell if she was making fun of him or not. The rest of the girls at the table weren’t laughing, but…

“You don’t have to,” she said, flashing the biggest smile it felt like he’d ever seen, “I just wanted you to know that we think it’s super cool we finally have a gay football player. We think you guys are just so cute.”

Alex wondered how many more times he could listen to people call Michael gay when they knew literally nothing about him before he lost it.

“How are we cute when we’re not together?” Alex asked. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“You know what I mean. The whole two separate looks, it’s perfect,” she said. Alex’s phone saved him by going off and Alex immediately gave it his attention.

Michael: i was just thinking about you where are you

Alex: Crashdown

Michael: room for 1 more?

Alex: For you? Always

Michael: 😍

“Is that Michael?” the girl asked, bringing him back to the conversation. He looked at her.

“Yeah,” he said honestly. He didn’t want to be rude. She wasn’t technically being rude. But, still, he wasn’t sure if she was or not. “Thanks for the offer, by the way, but I’m fine. You don’t have to sit with me.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender, “It was nice talking to you.”

“Mhm,” Alex hummed. He spared her a glance as she walked back to her friends and saw them giggling which wasn’t a good sign. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on his food.

Within the next couple minutes, the bell above the door dinged and a warm presence sat close beside Alex. He looked up to see Michael standing beside him. He had on a big smile despite the fact that his eyes had dark circles beneath them. It again had him questioning if something was actually going on and not just him questioning their relationship.

“Hey,” Alex said.

“Hey,” Michael said back, reaching over him to grab a fry from his tray.

“Get your own,” Alex said, unsuccessfully trying to stop him from shoving the fry into his mouth. Michael just smiled as he chewed and Alex was too charmed to be irritated. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Me too, this week has been a lot,” Michael said softly, sitting down on the stool beside him and pulling it close, “But I wanna see you more. What are your plans tonight?”

“I gotta have the car back by 8, but I can sneak out if you wanna come get me,” Alex suggested. Michael nodded.

“Yeah, we can do that,” he said, reaching over to steal more of Alex’s fries.

“Dude, do you want to order food?” Alex laughed. He shook his head.

“I’ll just eat yours.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stared at him as they ate. Not only did he have dark circles under his eyes, but he was also chewing slow and seeming to zone out just by sitting there. And Alex was beginning to really think that it had nothing to do with their relationship.

“Hey,” Alex said, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Michael said.

Alex considered just leaving it. But he left it last time and things had clearly not gotten any better. His eyes drifted over to the girls at the table, noticing that they were not-so-subtly watching them as if they were an exhibit in a zoo. He tried not to let it bother him as he leaned a little closer.

“Seriously, what’s going on? You’re worrying me,” Alex told him quietly. Michael made eye contact with him and gave him that little tiny smile that felt like it was only for him. Maybe it was. “Stop it, tell me. Are you sick or something? Is something going on?”

“You are my favorite person in the whole world, Alex Manes,” he said. Alex tilted his head in that no-nonsense way that just made Michael smile wider. “I’ve been helping Max fix his car, sorry I didn’t really let you know. It’s been taking up my time. And it’s just been one of those weeks. I’m okay.”

“So you’re not just trying to get rid of me either?” Alex clarified. It was honestly relieving to see that it wasn’t anything too bad. Michael’s eyes widened a little bit.

“No, absolutely not. I want to see you more, this week has sucked without you,” he said, batting those eyelashes, “It’s really hard to sleep well without you anymore.”

“Mm, well, maybe I’ll help you get to some good sleep tonight,” Alex said, a suggestive tone in his voice. Michael grinned, his tongue pressing to the back of his teeth.

“Can I touch you in public or is that a no go?” Michael asked. Alex again found himself looking over to the cheerleaders. “No?”

“They were asking me about us earlier,” Alex said, “Told me I could sit with the other guys’ girlfriends and we could all gossip. And that we’re so cute.”

“I think we’re pretty cute,” Michael told him, still smiling. When Alex didn’t respond right away, it faded. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, I just…” Alex said, trying to find the right words. He didn’t have them. Instead, he thought about his conversation with Flint and how good that felt to just be. To talk and act like there was nothing to even think about. He wanted that. “Yeah, you can touch me.”

“You sure?” Michael said. Alex nodded.

“Nothing too extreme.”

“Obviously, that’s for later,” he said. Alex snorted, but let Michael just move closer and rest his head on his shoulder. He could feel the way his body immediately released some tension.

He couldn’t wait to get him alone so he could remove the rest.

“Michael.”

“Nope, not talking about this with you.”

“Michael! This isn’t just about you! This affects us! Stop fucking avoiding us so you can do what you want!”

Michael sighed, bowing his head. He took a few deep breaths and opened his eyes slowly, looking at the engine he was working on. It helped to work with his hands. All the shit he was doing with Eff was too much with his mind and it was nice to just turn it off and use his hands. And, besides, this was the one day it seemed Eff had no interest in doing tests. He planned to just work on this car until Alex could come back over.

But apparently, he had to still use his brain today.

“What do you want me to say?” Michael asked as he turned to face Max and Isobel. They both looked angry at him. Which was fair. He’d been avoiding them as much as possible. He didn’t want Eff to get any interest in them. They were going to have a future. They weren’t going to end up like him.

And, besides, he should’ve known this was coming. People were talking about him and Alex. He had no drive to stop them. He had way bigger problems than people gossiping about his love life even if that meant having his siblings find out through someone else.

“Well, first off, why aren’t you talking to us? Did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Isobel asked.

“And are you actually dating Alex? Because what happens when something goes wrong? What happens when he gets hurt?” Max added.

“Or what happens when you get hurt?” Isobel said, “If he breaks up with you or realizes you’re lying to him? Because you are lying to him.”

“And don’t even think about telling him. This isn’t some small little thing, Michael, this is our lives.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Michael asked. He intended for it to have more bite than it actually did. He wanted to be angry with them, but it was hard when they weren’t wrong. Michael was stupid. It was how he ended up being the one caught by Eff. “Look, I’m being safe.”

“Michael,” Isobel said, stepping up to him. She had that concerned look in her eye that made it hard not to listen. “We don’t lie to each other, okay? That’s not something we can do when it’s just the three of us. We were there when you decided to join the football team and I helped you fake all your physicals, you remember? We’re not trying to hold you back. This is something extremely serious.”

“I know it is,” Michael said, “I just… I like him, Isobel. He makes me feel good. I don’t want to give that up just because I’m not human.”

“But we said‒”

“I know what we said,” Michael sighed, looking to Max and then back to Isobel before he closed his eyes, “But, I can promise you, it’s okay. We’re not toxic to them. Nothing has happened to Alex or the girls I’ve slept with. They’re all fine. We don’t have to be alone like this.”

They stared at him, unreadable expressions. He was anticipating them to yell at him and he was prepared to bury himself in a hole until he felt better. But they didn’t yell. They just stared.

“How long have you known?” Max asked. Michael took a deep breath.

“About two years,” he answered honestly. Max scoffed.

“So, what, I kept away from Liz for no reason?” he asked. Michael didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t think he would’ve gone after Liz anyway.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Isobel wondered.

“I didn’t want you to be mad at me for breaking the deal,” Michael admitted, rubbing his eye, “I, I should’ve told you. A while ago. That wasn’t fair of me and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for ignoring you, I’ve been stressed lately and I don’t want to affect you guys.”

“But you still didn’t have an answer for what happens when he realizes you’re lying to him. You can’t tell him what we are,” Max insisted. Michael immediately shook his head.

“I swear, I won’t. You two come first always.”

“Do we? Because It doesn’t sound like it.”

He swallowed harshly, closing his eyes. He thought about the other day when Eff had pricked him with that needle on his wrist and it had triggered waves of power that he couldn’t control that had sent him into a seizure-like state or when he pricked the one on his neck and that same power paralyzed him until he cried, both times immediately followed by Eff bringing him outside to test again. At the moment, it hadn’t seemed like it was that bad. He was still free and still had Alex. He still wouldn’t wish it onto Max and Isobel.

“Trust me,” Michael said, “You come first.”

“This is bullshit, Michael. You’re being stupid,” Max scolded.

“Max,” Isobel said, “Come on, this is good news, isn’t it? We can be normal.”

“Normal,” Max echoed, huffing a laugh, “I can never be normal."

"But, normal enough, right? College, wife, kids, white picket fence?" Michael pointed out, "You can have that. It's safe."

"Since when have you wanted that?" Max scoffed. And Michael didn't want that. It had always sounded boring. But with his current circumstances, that was an unachievable paradise. He wanted Max and Isobel to take it and run with it.

"I don't, but you guys do," he offered lamely.

"You really like Alex that much?" Isobel asked, "That you're finally telling us this?"

"Yeah, I do," Michael said. It wasn't a lie. He did like Alex that much. Just… it wasn't the entire reason.

"And you're happy?"

Somehow, that felt like a trick question.

"Yes," he said.

"Then we're happy," Isobel said, "Shut up, Max."

Michael wished that was a sign everything would be that easy. That maybe when it came out that he lied to them again about something a million times worse that they wouldn't be angry. He just had to tell himself that.

But, later, when Alex came over again, he still found himself feeling wrong and off. He was wondering if he was always going to feel wrong and off for the rest of his life.

Alex, however, was a nice distraction from the bullshit. He was reading a book for class and Michael had wedged himself between his legs, his knees hooked over his shoulders and his head resting comfortably between his thighs. If he stayed right there, nothing could hurt him.

He breathed slow and closed his eyes, trying to convince himself that this was worth every single mistake. Alex's warm skin against his cheeks, the grounding presence of his feet on his stomach, his hand in his hair, the door and the window locked, and nothing but the sound of the AC and Alex turning pages filling his mind. This was the safest space in the world. He refused to believe differently.

Michael dozed in and out of consciousness, his mind drained and wanting sleep more than he was able to give. He was almost actually asleep until the sky decided to be a bitch and thunder loud enough to wake him up. He slowly dragged his eyes open, his fingers gliding over the unrealistically soft hair on his thigh. He pressed his nose into his skin, breathing him in. Then he pressed his lips there and reveled in the way Alex shifted a little in response. It wasn't until he parted his lips and carefully bit into the sweet skin of his inner thigh that Alex actually reacted. He tightened his legs around him, giving him a little squeeze that was way hotter than it was meant to be.

"Excuse you," Alex scolded, voice soft and a little deeper than usual as if he'd fallen asleep too. It made Michael smile. This really was safe.

"It's right here in my face, what do you want from me? I only have so much self-control," Michael said. Alex chuckled, his hand taking through his curls before tugging a little.

He spread his legs wider and urged Michael up to move up. Michael complied, laying beside him and accepting the kiss he gave. He didn't want tomorrow to come. Tomorrow meant more Eff, more work, more stress. Today meant this.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Alex asked, "You can say no and I won't be mad even a little."

"What's up?" Michael asked. He couldn't imagine telling Alex no.

"You remember that brother I told you about? He's coming into town," Alex said, not really making eye contact. Michael hummed. "Would you wanna meet him?"

"You want me to meet your brother?" Michael asked. Alex shrugged and nodded.

"It could be fun. He said we could go somewhere outside of Roswell so it won't be too bad," Alex urged, "You can say no."

Michael stared at him and weighed his options. He didn't mind saying yes. If it was before he ran into Eff, he would've said yes in a heartbeat. But now things were a little different and he didn't want to make such important plans when he had no idea when he would steal him for the evening.

"Um, can I say yes but pull out if I need to?" Michael asked. Alex eyed him but nodded slowly.

"You really can just say no."

"I want to go, though. Things have just been weird lately and something might come up. I'll let you know if it does, though," Michael said.

"Like what?" Alex asked.

"Like if Sanders needs me to help him or Isobel needs me to come get her. I'm surrounded by needy people lately and it's making it really hard for me to be needy towards you," Michael teased. Alex smiled and reached out, touching his cheek softly.

"Okay, whatever works," he said, "He just wants to meet you."

"And I want to meet him," Michael promised, "But, uh, does this mean you're my boyfriend? 'Cause this feels awfully official."

Alex grinned and rolled his eyes, pushing himself into Michael for a long kiss. Michael pulled him even closer.

It was the nicest yes he'd ever gotten.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #rnm fic #my fic #verse: from a whisper to a scream #and now i go get my car fixed after having no window for 3 months

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quinnhayden · 3 years

Note

so i know it's a What If/au thought right now (as far as you've let us know 👀) but while rereading kintsukuroi, i just keep thinking of sam joining the trio and the Potential Content,, , specifically just like sam, bucky, and quinn ganging up on steve with sweet words to see how flustered they can get him. or sam lowkey but actually highkey seriously flirting with them both just to get a rise out of bucky, only to flip the flirting onto him if he gets a reaction. i just really love sam wilson 🥺💙

FIRST OF ALL WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LEAVE THIS SOFT SAM CONTENT IN MY INBOX AND THEN JUST LEAVE?!!!??

Secondly....,,,,...have some soft Sam and Quinn content from an abandoned AU of the trio adding Sam to the mix in Wakanda 🥺🥰

———————

As much as she needs it to, Quinn could run clear across Wakanda and it still wouldn’t help. It’s still there, under her skin. Buzzes and thrums and eats her up inside and she doesn’t know that she’ll ever escape this. Sometimes, she wonders about the real reason Steve took a swan dive in the ice. It tempts her, when she’s in the lake, to sink under the water and never come back up, suffocate what’s inside her. Naïve, she tried to brand it Fenrir, pretend it was this separate, rabid beast. She tried to quench the thirst with blood, but it still wants. It needs to move, it needs the violence, and it chafes at what she has here. It’ll never stop because it isn’t Fenrir. It’s Quinn.

This all makes her so ashamed. Too ashamed to be around her soulmates. It doesn’t matter that they’re both asleep. Well, she itches to move, but when she realized why she needed to move then that’s when the shame started up. So, she leaves their little plot and walks on the lake’s shoreline. Like this’ll help ease her mind. Whatever. Better to walk around than roll over, wake Steve up, and have him stare at her like she’s about to shatter.

Fish brush too close to the surface of the water and ripples disturb the moon’s reflection in the water. Fuck, she’s exhausted. Tired down to her bones. There is peace here. First time in decades, she can rest, so why doesn’t she want that? Why do her knuckles ache to be split back open, ache to clench, ache to be drenched in blood? The more she’s without the actual violence, the more it raises hell inside her. It claws at her throat, pokes and prods in her brain, and makes her feel too much like a feral animal.

Quinn comes to a stop. There’s someone else at the shoreline. Well, at a tree that’s close to the lake. She hesitates when he doesn’t call out to her or even nod toward her. He has a reason to be up at this hour and she thinks it’s not a nice one, so she decides to approach him.

“Sam?”

No response. Sam keeps quiet, like he doesn’t even know she’s there. Sure, she has enhanced senses, but the moon is round and full. He should be able to see her, enhanced or not. She walks in his direct line of vision, knows he can see her, but he still doesn’t move. Damn, he must be zoned out bad. It must’ve been a real bad dream. She crouches down and debates on whether she should do this or not, but…touch helps her a lot when she’s stuck in her own head. What’s the worst that could happen? He couldn’t hurt her all that bad if he happened to lash out on accident.

“Sam?” Quinn repeats quietly and reaches out to touch his bare shoulder. His skin is still slick with sweat. Thankfully, he only blinks and his attention snaps over to her. He tenses up underneath her hand, so she slowly pulls back. Puts a little distance between them. “Howdy,” she drawls with a little smile. Until he sends her away, she’ll sit with him and plops down there in front of him. “You here with me?”

“What—” is he confused about where he is? Does he not know what happened? He sucks in a shaky breath, rubs both his hands across his face, and then shakes his head. Tries to shake it off. She can taste his hesitation in the air, like he thinks about if he wants to lie to her. He breathes out slowly, his body relaxes, and he answers with a low, “Yeah, I’m back.” Then, he wipes away the sweat from his forehead, pulls his arm away, and scrunches his nose at it.

Quinn’s been around Sam when he had a bad dream, once or twice. All she ever did was help lull him back to sleep and when they woke up, he never talked about it. She thinks she should’ve made him. “You look like a man that could use a drink,” she decides on. She needs to make him talk to her but not pull his teeth out about it.

“You look like a woman that could use some sleep. A shower, too. Why the hell are you out this late?”

“Sam, at this hour, I think it’s considered early. Not late.” The news makes him moan in exasperation and she smiles wryly. “I was too wired to sleep. Didn’t want to lay around in bed, so I went on a run. Still ain’t sure why y’all hoot and holler so much about me bein’ alone. The worst I have to worry about here are panther attacks and I could handle that. Y’know, I’d like to see who’d win that, actually—me or the panther.”

Sam leans back on the tree and slumps while he chuckles. “They’ll probably throw you out of the country because you punched a national icon.”

“Good point. I’ll outrun it then. Steve doesn’t need two soulmates who caused an international disaster.” Classic diversion tactic, Wilson, to make this about her. Quinn’s not about to take the bait. She’s too much of an expert when it comes to this particular method. “So, you want to tell me where you went? Or are we not supposed to talk about it?”

“All the times you woke me up in the hotel room with your screams and wouldn’t talk to me about it, I think I’m allowed one,” he shoots back and it’s sharp, a little mean. He winces when he realizes it came out nastier than he meant. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

“Don’t tell me sorry. I know you didn’t mean it.” She’ll never take it personally. Hell, Sam is allowed this. He’s allowed a lot. He’s dealt with her shit—and Steve’s, too, since they spent so much time on the road with each other. “And I won’t make you talk about it, but you wouldn’t let me be alone when I wanted that. So, I won’t let you be alone, either.”

“You didn’t have a choice. We were trapped. There was literally no place you could’ve went.”

“Oh, trust me, I could’ve went anywhere else. I could’ve went on a run, went to swim at a pool, went to some bar or diner to eat…like I said, anywhere.” She waves around them more to motion that that’s what she’s up to now. She hopes he can’t see how nervous or uncomfortable it makes her to admit this.

Look, in order for Sam to be emotionally vulnerable with her, she has to show him that she can do it, too. He doesn’t have to deal with whatever this alone. Because…because…well, she didn’t comprehend this until now, but he is. Alone. Wanda…she won’t admit it, but she always books it to spend time with Vision more often than not. Natasha tends to spend her downtime with Clint because it’s not hard on her to become someone else. Quinn, Steve, and Bucky…as in a weird spot as they are, they all still have each other. Where’s that all leave Sam?

Jesus Christ, she and her soulmates are literally the most oblivious people on the planet.

While Quinn has a quick mental breakdown over how stupid she’s been, Sam apparently has his own epiphany. “All those runs in D.C or when we were stuck at a hotel—” he knocks his head back on the tree. Surely to God he doesn’t blame himself that he didn’t see this sooner. Honest, Quinn’s not really embarrassed that much by this. A run or a swim is a lot healthier way to cope than some of the dumb stunts she’s pulled in the past. “Man, I told myself you just really liked to run.”

“No one likes to run, Sam, especially at the ass-crack of dawn. Except maybe Steve…and even then, I still ain’t sure. I never really ask him why he does it. Bucky’s told me that, before the war, Steve never used to wake up that early. Steve says the army switched him around.” She picks at the grass between them. “Don’t take it so hard. It’s…half and half with me. Sometimes, I really am too wired to sleep. I think that’s the ADHD, I don’t know.” He raises a brow. Oh. Did she not tell him about that? Well, now he knows. “Other times, I need an out.”

“Now?”

She squirms uncomfortably, but she needs to be open. Show him that this is a two-way street—that she can trust him and he can trust her. “A little bit of both? I—” she needs to not be emotionally repressed. Just because she was born in the twenties doesn’t mean she has to act like it. “Don’t tell Steve and Bucky, okay?” He nods wordlessly and that helps her move on. “This is all I ever wanted, did you know that? When we were those three dumb kids back in a war, I wanted to have a place where we could settle down and love in peace. We have that now. For the first time in…in seventy years, we have peace. So, why do I have this itch under my skin that I can’t scratch? Why the fuck is all I think about when the next mission is? Why can’t I—why don’t I want the peace?”

“Honest opinion?”

“God, yes, Sam. You know I always want you to be honest with me.”

Sam pauses, thinks about how to explain it. “SHIELD learned you had a super soldier serum, knew that they wouldn’t ever have Steve back, and they made you Captain America.” She balks at that because…no. No. Other than the fact that she could never be Captain America, what she did on Hydra’s dime was not what heroes like Steve do. “Okay, not Captain America to you, but definitely Captain America to everyone else. Point is that you spent seventy years as a soldier. Maybe you took some time off here and there, but compared to Steve and Barnes, you never had a break in the ice. That messes a person up.” His voice lowers and he’s sad. It makes her hurt to hear him hurt and…that’s all for her. Why’s it for her? “They made you into a weapon as much as they made your boys one. I’m not sure you’ve known it any other way than this, Quinn.”

That…that really is a…a fair point. She never stopped to think about it like that. Still, “I’m—no, I don’t know how true that is. I…can someone be born with violence in their blood? Because my knuckles have been bloody since the day…some asshole pulled on my ponytail and called my pa names.” She runs a shaky hand through her hair. “At least it ain’t all me. I think Steve has this problem, too. Swear to God, I don’t know how you and Bucky deal with us.”

“Guess me and Barnes have a type—dumb blondes with hearts of gold and a chip on their shoulder. You’re both real pretty. That helps, too.”

Quinn’s really happy it’s dark out. Sam won’t be able to see how red her cheeks are. “Shut up.” The mood sobers when she remembers that this wasn’t supposed to be about her and he spun it around so that’s all it became. “Aw, Jesus, Sam, this wasn’t supposed to be about me. Stop takin’ care of everyone else, asshole. Tell me what’s on your mind for once.”

“I can’t lie and say I don’t remember what the dream was about, can I?”

“It don’t help that you admitted you want to lie to me. You couldn’t pull one over on me that easy, no how. Someone doesn’t check out the way you did over a dream they don’t remember.” She pauses and her heart breaks a little bit more. Everyone has bad dreams, she reasoned when Sam would wake her up with his, so she never pushed. He’s been such a rock that she never stopped to think how much he’s eroded under the pressure. “It…it ain’t always been like this, has it? Sam, how much has this happened to you?”

“It isn’t like I can call up my therapist and talk to him,” he shoots back. It’s hard not to react to that because she’s the reason he can’t do that. This isn’t about her and she turns her head to the side so he can’t see her expression. “No. Don’t do what Steve does, damn it. Don’t put this on you. I could’ve went with the Accords on my own, but I didn’t. This was all my own choice,” he makes sure to remind her. It doesn’t help, but she reels her emotions back in and looks back over at him. “It hasn’t been. This bad in a while, okay? Honestly. It hasn’t been like this since—” Riley, he doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Oh. Oh. It all makes so much sense now. Yeah, she…she thinks she understands now. Sam was there, up close and personal, reached out to try and catch Rhodey, and watched him drop the same way he saw Riley drop.

There are times that words won’t help. Words can sound like pity and in situations like these, it’ll only feel like salt rubbed on an open wound. This is done. For now. He’s open and exposed and she won’t risk it to have him close back up. “C’mon, we both need to sleep a little.” She clambers to stand and reaches a hand out toward him. He cocks his head to the side. “What? I said I wouldn’t let you be alone and you’re tired, I can tell.”

“Yeah, you’re tired, too. You also have two soulmates to run back to.” He dismisses her with a wave. “Shoo. I can handle it on my own.”

He absolutely can and will not handle it on his own. Not anymore. Not while Quinn lives and breathes. “I do. You don’t. Since when has that mattered? This ain’t no different than all those motel rooms.” He doesn’t move and she puts her hands on her hips. “I can and will carry your ass.”

It almost seems like Sam is about to throw a hissy fit about this. He throws his arms up in the air, but he’s not exactly the scariest person out there. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you?” Now he understands. He’s always been quick to the uptake. She beams at him in triumph. “Fine. Whatever. Shit, you’re merciless.” Then, he takes her hand that’s still stretched out to him, and she helps him up to his feet. “Steve and Barnes won’t be worried?”

“Probably will be, but they won’t push about it. We’ve let each other have our space here lately. I’ve lived with Steve, but never with Bucky. Steve’s lived with Bucky and me, but never at the same time. Bucky’s only lived with Steve and he sometimes can’t even remember those days,” she explains as he leads her inside his hut. “I don’t think it’s been this awkward between us since—hell, since the day they told me they were my soulmates.”

Inside the hut, Sam motions toward the mat, the wordless ladies first. She smiles crookedly at him before she drops down on it and stretches out with a pleased moan. It becomes pretty obvious how much she’s worn herself out since she came back from the mission. Endless runs and swims with very little sleep. Oh, this isn’t her bed. How rude. She shimmies over until she’s made a spot next to her for Sam.

Compared to Quinn, who went and made herself at home, Sam is a lot tenser when he settles down on the mat. He’s situated on his back and stares up at the roof of the hut. At first, she thinks he’s so hesitant because he’s scared to have a bad dream, but this isn’t that. This…the air around them is awkward, not upset. She doesn’t know why the hell he’s so bent out of shape about this. It can’t be because of the whole soulmate deal. Steve and Quinn were married when the three of them went on that manhunt for two whole years, for fuck’s sake.

Determined to make him comfortable, she rolls over on her side and stares him down. Hopefully, she can scare him into comfort since he wants to be all stubborn about it. This shouldn’t be so weird, especially when he’s silently hurt and never told another soul about it. Hell, she wants to wrap an arm around his waist, press close and hold him, but she can’t push. Besides, she never deliberately did that before. Not like it’d really matter because they always ended up as spoons when they woke up in hotel rooms which is what’ll happen here. And, sure, physical contact tends to help her—and Steve and Bucky—out, but it may not help everyone else.

Then, thank the Lord, Sam drops whatever he has held on to. The tension bleeds from his body and he rolls over to face her, too. A little bitchily, he asks, “You always have your way in the end, don’t you?” She cracks up and it’s an infectious sound because he starts to laugh with her. “God, I hate you. You tried to spin me that shit about how it’s all Steve with the apple pie charm.” His voice pitches up with an overdramatic drawl as he says, “Oh, Sam, Steve’s the one with the face no one can resist. Not me, no, sir. Not me at all.” The tone drops back down to normal. “Bullshit, Quinn. Bull-fucking-shit.”

“Yeah, I know. I know, Sam. Got me. I’m a dirty rotten liar and I always get what I want.”

———————

Both Sam and Quinn wake up, near exact the same time, and she can’t tell that it’s not her and her alone that’s shocked. Because they slept. The sun’s position up in the skies means it must be near noon, so…they slept hours. She don’t sleep like the dead, not how she used to, so she would’ve known if he’d woken up at some point to roll over or had another bad dream or whatever. He didn’t. She knows she didn’t, either. They slept completely undisturbed. That…hasn’t happened to her in…a while. With his arm wrapped around her waist, his whole body curved around hers, she probably would’ve drifted back off if she wasn’t so blown away by the fact that she slept so much. Holy shit. It probably won’t ever happen a second time, but fuck. It’s nice to wake up and be so rested.

Sam seems more than happy to sleep some more since he pulls her closer. His breath is hot on the back of her neck and he buries his nose in her hair, breathes deep. She’s a furnace, she knows. Everyone that sleeps in the same bed as her loves that. “Better let Steve and Buck know I wasn’t murdered by a panther,” she explains and he snorts in response. “Don’t be a stranger, Sam. We’re not that far away.” As she leans to sit up, she squeezes his shoulder one last time. Sam seems more than happy to roll over onto his other side and sleep some more. She smiles fondly at him one last time before she stands up and heads out. ———————

No surprise, both Steve and Bucky are up, awake, and…somewhat active. Bucky’s active, anyway. Quinn never would’ve expected that Buck would take to the farm life as well as he has. It makes a little sense, now that she thinks about it. This is productive and this work won’t bloody up his hands. Good comes from this. Sometimes, if he’s a little too wild in the eyes and there’s no work to be done on their land, he’ll head over to help the locals out in any way they need. She’s happy that he has a purpose here. It’s nice to see his eyes crinkle, nice to see his smile, nice to see him bask in the warmth and safety this place provides them…

Lord, how did she make it as many years as she did without him and Steve? No idea. Wait. No, she does know. Family. She had family to help take care of her when her boys couldn’t. Sam should have the exact same because he doesn’t have an option to see his family. She stops, so wrapped up in her head, but then stops and stares at the second hut that she and Steve have started to sleep in.

Huh. Now, there’s an idea.

Just maybe…oh, but she’d need to talk to Steve and Bucky before she thinks about this any more than she already has. Okay, she would probably only need to talk to Bucky because Steve would, without a doubt, be absolutely on board with this. She doesn’t think that Bucky would deny her what she wants if she bats her lashes at him, but then comes the issue of where they would sleep. Damn it, no, she’s ahead of herself. Talk first, plan later. Because she loves and respects her soulmate, she will not follow her usual mantra of: it’s better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.

As Quinn slowly approaches Bucky, she notices that Steve is down by the lake, slumped under their own tree, and he’s asleep. “I think there must be part-cat somewhere in him because all he’s done since we’ve been here is soak up the sun and sleep.”

“Go easy on him. I made him do your work.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he interrupts softly. His attention keeps on the work at hand, but he casually asks, “So, where were you? You’re back earlier than this, even when you run.”

“I did run, but I stopped to visit Sam. We talked and I crashed there a little bit. Even had a nice nap,” she explains.

“You slept all that time?” She nods wordlessly and he turns back to his work. “Wilson, huh?”

#Bucky and Steve just coming up with dumb ideas on how to seduce Sam #and Quinn is here like “how the FUCK did you two manage to seduce me?’’#I FUCKING LOVE SAM WILSON #I WILL SCREAM IT TO THE HEAVENS #AND THE TRIO LOVE HIM TOO #GIVE ME MORE SAM CONTENT #my fic #sam x trio

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blog-sliverofjade · 4 years

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Hearth Fires 2: Sneaky Like a Cat

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary: Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas. Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself. While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2466

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the invaluable pandabearer

Remi entered a familiar code into the comm screen and sprawled out on the large cushions scattered around the main floor of his aerie. Waiting for the call to connect, he cracked a longneck and took a swig. Stomach rumbling, he wished he’d at least gotten a cupcake before scaring the piss out of the little baker.

He knew she didn’t intend any harm to the pack. But sometimes what happened wasn’t what one intended, as he knew very well. Just like he hadn’t intended to throw out that ultimatum. He’d wanted to get a sense of her and make the offer. Then she’d turned him down and it was like his brain had switched off and his alpha hindbrain had taken over.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been turned down since he started building RainFire; it was, however, the first time a lone submissive female had said no. Generally, ones like her didn’t go roaming for as long as she had. The feeling that something was amiss with her hadn’t left him, like an itch that he just couldn’t scratch.

“I’m flattered I’m your drunk dial,” Lucas Hunter said dryly, “but I have a mate.”

“I’d’ve to be drinkin’ bad hooch to be drunk dialin’ your laide tchew,” he snorted. “And I’d hope it’d make me blind.”

Hunter snorted, then reached down out of view of the screen and picked up a little, black cub by the scruff of her neck. Naya purred loudly enough that Remi could hear it and butted her forehead against Lucas’ face, even though her body continued to dangle limply in his grasp.

“You know better than that,” her father frowned at her, unfazed by the cute affection, and tapped her nose. The responding mewl was adorable enough to pierce even the most jaded heart. “No, you can’t have a cookie, but you can say hi to Remi.” He pointed to the screen and set her on his lap. A fluffy black tail rose high and curled at the end in greeting.

“Quoi se fais du mal, possede?” His cat stopped its irritated pacing and chuffed in amusement at the pair of bright green eyes that now took up most of the screen as she leaned in to greet him.

“She’s been using my chair as a scratching post.” Remi coughed to cover a laugh at the other man’s deadpan expression that barely hid his amusement. At the recount of her misdeed, she flopped onto her back and put one paw over an eye as if to say “oops.” Hunter had answered in his office at DarkRiver HQ. If he’d been at home, which had cushions instead of traditional furniture much like Remi’s own, his daughter would have sharpened her claws on a tree instead. “Can you make it quick? I have a meeting in ten.”

Remi laid out the situation to Lucas, who listened without interruption.

“She says she didn’t know ‘bout the expansion.” He spread his hands wide.

“You posted to Packnet?” Hunter referred to the network utilized by Changelings all across the world. Even loners used it, primarily to keep track of claimed territory to avoid accidentally trespassing. A mistake meant death for a predatory Changeling.

“’Course I did,” Remi snapped in frustration. Lucas let that one slide. “Damnedest thing is she says she’s never heard of it!” He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Bullshit,” he snorted, then darted a glance at Naya, who’d climbed up to drape herself across his shoulders. “You just don’t like your options.”

“Could you run a submissive off your lands?” he snarled. Lucas gave a low warning growl to remind him that they were both alphas; his cub stopped kneading his shoulders and her ears swivelled forward, looking for the threat. Remi had to rein his cat in before they got into a pissing match; it had been on edge since he stepped into the bakery. The animal, too, was disturbed with the mystery that was Lorelei Cain Maddox.

“Buy her land, her mortgage, and any other debt out from under her if she doesn’t play ball. It doesn’t have to come to combat.” A ruthless solution from an alpha who was as accustomed to fighting in the boardroom as he was with teeth and claws. The merciless alpha stroked his daughter’s back, lulling her back to her sleepy state. He looked like a damn villain when he did that in that chair.

“Mais.” Blowing out a breath, he took another drink to give himself time to consider the suggestion. He shouldn’t have made the offer at all if she made his hackles rise, not until he figured out why. Now he had to deal with the fallout and any leverage would serve to protect the pack, even if he didn’t use it to force her hand. “Might have to. She looked like she’d rather chew an arm off than listen to me.”

“I can’t blame her if you were your usual charming self.” Remi flipped him the bird, but there was no heat in his accompanying glare. Lucas huffed in laughter. “You can’t help those who don’t want to be helped, you need to focus on your own. If she won’t play ball with you, she might with your enemies.”

“Ca me rapelle, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I’m forwarding you something.” He set his bottle down and fired off the email as he spoke. “Several folks in town reported receiving this.”

“’Trinity’s Goal is Human Genocide’,” Lucas read the subject line with a snort. “’We won’t be replaced, trying to take power, subjugate the human race…’ Yeah, we had something like this awhile back, so did StoneWater. Do you know where it came from?”

“We got someone working to trace it. I was wonderin’ if your people have time to look at it, might be tied to the one you mentioned.” The older pack had resources that RainFire simply didn’t have yet and he wasn’t above asking for help to keep his pack safe.

“It might be the same group, but extremists tend to use the same catchphrases; it’s like they just swap out the nouns. I recommend keeping your sentinels on alert.” Remi nodded. He’d already briefed those that hadn’t brought the situation to his attention, but if this was a larger threat then they needed to know that, too.

“We’ve got some friends in the city, I’ll ask them to keep their ears to the ground.”

“This might be an individual, but if it’s a cell working to sway public opinion your friends will probably hear of it first. I’ll have my team see what they can find.” Lucas’ eyes narrowed, but that didn’t hide the teasing glint in his green eyes that looked so much like his cat’s. “You know, the mentorship was only meant to last the first year.” While that year had passed nearly nine months ago, the two of them had kept in regular contact.

“You don’t have to answer my calls,” he shrugged and tucked a hand behind his head. “I could always ring up Hawke. Say, you got his number?” Hunter scowled at the mention of the SnowDancer alpha.

“Are you so hard up you’d ask a wolf for help?”

“I’m asking my Trinity representative for help with somethin’ that might be a bigger problem, but if you’re too busy…”

“Naya, say ‘adieu’ to Oncle Couillon .” She waved her tail back and forth.

“Bye-bye, cher.” Remi blew the cub a kiss. “Donne la belle Sascha un bec pour moi.” Before hanging up, Lucas gave him one last scowl for telling him to kiss his mate for the other alpha.

He pulled out his organizer and began to plot. She might be stubborn, but he had an entire pack behind him and he wasn't afraid to use it.

At the sound of the front door opening, Lorel set down the cranberry coloured frosting she was piping onto rows of cupcakes. She wiped her hands off on a damp white washcloth that was already smeared pink and red with previous uses.

Stopping in the archway that led to the front, she stifled a groan. The customer who’d entered with her daughter was a changeling: a leopard, to be specific, and one of many who'd managed to wander into her shop over the past week. Even if she didn’t have a note in her scent that matched an element of Denier’s, she obviously had to be a member of RainFire. It seemed like she'd already met half the freaking pack, and, in the southern custom that she was rapidly coming to learn, a quick chat was at least half an hour long.

She could hardly refuse to serve the woman; not only was it illegal, but it would be hypocritical. Besides, changelings were extremely loyal and prolific customers at their favourite restaurants due to their higher caloric requirements. And not to mention it was probably unhealthy for her if she pissed off RainFire.

Somehow, she was sure the asshole was behind the parade of leopards in her bakery, even if she had no way of proving the suspicion. She had seen some underhanded tactics in her time, but this latest was the lowest of the low. Standing up straight, she braced herself.

A little girl in a lavender tutu dress toddled up to the display case like she’d found Nirvana. Her dark hair was tied up in loose buns that bobbled with every step of her purple, glitter rainboots. It was impossible not to smile at the sheer joy that lit up her face, which was marked with what looked like slashes from a set of claws, yet they lacked the pigmentation and texture of scars. They appeared to be birthmarks, albeit pale instead of dark.

“Cookie, pease?”

Seriously, those big, guileless eyes should be registered as lethal weapons.

“What kind would you like?” Lorel asked after glancing at the adult with her to make sure it was ok.

“Dat one!” A tiny finger pressed to the plas-glas pointed to a set of sugar cookies shaped and frosted to look like various types of leaves: green fading to brown, yellow to red, and whatever other combination had occurred to her at the time. Lorel picked one of her favourites: a maple leaf with yellow at its centre, surrounded by orange, and turning to red at the edges. For the veins, she’d drawn a knife through the frosting to create lines of colour that bled outward through the gradations.

“Make it a dozen, please, and a dozen each of the caramel apples, the maple pecan cupcakes, and, ooh, pumpkin cheesecake snickerdoodles,” the woman said, her eyes lighting up with the last order.

She nearly did a double-take. That was her entire stock of each of those items and over half of her seasonal items. Not that she was about to complain. She wrapped the maple leaf in a napkin and handed it to the girl, experience telling her that it wouldn’t last enough to warrant packaging.

“Thank you!” she chirped and rose on her tiptoes to take the leaf. The cookie was bigger than both of her hands. Settling back on her heels, she took a bite and exclaimed in delight, eyes going impossibly wide. Lorel struggled to breathe past the ache in her chest.

Avoiding eye contact with both of them, she quickly boxed up the goodies. The sooner she got them out of there, the sooner she could breathe easy again. It didn’t help that her cat was currently clawing at her with a fierce need to play with the cub. Kid , she mentally reprimanded herself.

“Is something wrong?” Lorel stared at the other woman for a heartbeat before she realized she’d been shaking her head while silently rebuking herself.

“Oh no.” She donned a smile like well-worn armour. “Just talking to myself. Thinking about how many to bake tomorrow, you know?”

The customer nodded and hummed in agreement, but something in her eyes said she wasn’t buying it.

“It must be hard to move to a town where you don’t know much of anyone and take over your aunt’s business.”

Lorel’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t trust sympathy from a cat, not even one with a child that appeared to be loved and treasured.

“Small towns, everybody knows everybody.” The other woman shrugged off the suspicion cast her way. “By the way, I’m Tien and this is JoJo.” JoJo was currently spinning in the sun streaming through the window and watching her skirt flare out. The glitter in her boots flashed brilliantly in the light. With each bite of her cookie, she hummed a happy little tune.

The pang in her chest was back.

“Lorel,” she flashed her customer service smile, the small one when she wasn’t really feeling like smiling. Luckily, she was ringing up the sale and therefore had an excuse to avoid anything more than briefly flicking her eyes at Tien. Then she gave the total and they went through the ritual of the transaction.

“Here’s my number.” Tien jotted down the code on a slip of paper she’d found in her purse. “Let me know if you ever want to talk or if you ever want to… I’d say go for coffee, but,” she broke off with a laugh and gestured at the espresso machine. “Do lunch or something.”

She couldn’t decline without being rude, and being rude in a small southern town would spell disaster for her business. And the other woman’s smile was so broad and genuine that she smiled back despite herself.

“Thank you.” Lorel took the scrap and slipped it into her apron; today it was yellow and edged at the bottom with lace. The lavender flowers on it matched the full-skirted dress she wore.

“Come on, kidlet.” Tien herded the girl towards the exit.

“Bye!” JoJo waved and skipped out the door, offering a bite of her cookie to her mom, who accepted with an “mmm!”

Lorel sank back against the counter and thrust her hands into her pockets, idly fingering the contact number. How could they be so happy and obviously well-adjusted in a pack with an autocratic asshole like Denier? Although, was there really any other kind of alpha? In her admittedly limited experience, the answer was no.

And yet neither of them had, had the hollow, guarded eyes that were the result of abuse from those in power. While the rest of the pack seemed friendly enough, no doubt the carrot to Denier’s stick, it wasn’t something she was used to.

She crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the recycler.

No matter how honest she appeared to be, Tien was still Denier’s pawn.

Notes: Remi isn’t canonically Cajun, it’s left ambiguous (“with a name like that sounds like he should be hunting gators in a swamp somewhere”). But I like the idea that he can play the dumb swamprat, or the suave southern gentleman, or a shark in the boardroom because he learned how to dominate whatever room he was in and that he had to learn to blend in (*foreshadowing of my personal HC’s).

I'm a bit of a language nerd. The evolution of Louisiana French is interesting because it basically takes Acadian French and drifts it, then splices in some Choctaw. And it appears to share some quirks and sentence structure with French Creoles. I'm not sure if that's due to sharing a "parent" language (I don't know enough to say) or due to cultural exchange in the region.

The Cajun French in this chapter comes from published dictionaries and articles written by native speakers, then cross-referenced (or simply plugged into google to see if similar results pop up). Then if I need to conjugate something or figure out grammar, I'll run it by my spouse who speaks Quebecois (which evolved from Acadian, too), but isn’t French Canadian. So if it’s atrocious, my apologies and please let me know.

Laide tchew - ugly ass

Quoi se fais du mal - what trouble have you been getting into?

Possede - literally possessed one, a term for a mischievous child

Mais - Literally French for “but.” According to kenwheatonwrites.com it “means “well then,” and is used to delight, shock, exasperation — any number of things. It’s almost like “dude” or “fuck” in its ability to morph into anything depending on situation, tone, delivery and other factors.”

Ca me rapelle - That reminds me

Oncle - uncle

Couillon - idiot, imbecile, funny person. In standard French, it means dickhead or bastard. I like to think that Lucas knows standard French, which helps him to understand Remi when he's slipping into his native patois. ;)

Donne la belle Sascha un bec pour moi - give the lovely Sascha a kiss for me

Fun fact: "bec" can mean "kiss" and "beak." So I'll tell my pet birds "bec la bec!" I'm easily entertained, what can I say?

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rabidfirefoxfan · 3 years

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When you responded, I started thinking back to when I first got into Loki. I am ashamed to say, that yes it was from gagnarok. but because I love the truth, I went out seeking it (so my love for gagnarok only lasted a few months) anyways, I do remember loving how great it was after watching it and spreading the word about it; ready to take down any YouTuber with a negative response towards the movie, even though I REALLY didn't want to see it twice. It just stayed in my brain for some reason. I still don't fully understand why, but I think you def hit the nail on the coffin 💜

You enjoyed something, you wanted to Keep enjoying that thing. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. You Subjective reaction to the Movie can be “I though it was a good film” and the Objective reality “This films has MAJOR Problems with it” are two different things.

For example, Michael Bay’s Transformers is objectively a Bad Film: Bad characterization, bad plot, dumb action, over-sexualization, really terrible main character. However, many people Subjective reaction to the Movie is “It was a pretty good movie.” The action scenes were entertaining enough to keep you interested and the character work well enough for ONE watch through. Ragnorak is Similar, your first subjective reaction to the movie was to say it was good.

Your reaction to the movie is also, in some ways, artificial. After all, with big releases like Marvel Movies are is a lot of Fanfare trying to hype you up to go to the Movie. Trailers like to “Your going to have a great time watching this film. It has all the stuff you want.” And then there is the Disney Press Tour trying to encourage media outlets to say the same thing. Finally, when you are all excited to watch the movie, you watch the movie and before you can really process what you watch, you talk with your friends. Now, you had a fairly happy experience, so when you asked your friends they will say “Yeah that was a good Movie,” re-enforcing the Idea that it actualy was a good movie.

Without realizing it, there are 3 forces trying to convince you that watch you actually watched was Good, and not Crap in any meaningful way. Reason 1: You don’t want to have wasted you time and money, so what you spent you time and money on MUST be Good. Reason 2: Your Friends want to feed off you energy and have the same Reason1 working on them. These direct friends will again tell you that the movie is Good. Reason 3: Disney has a strong incentive to want you to think the movie is good, so they promote articles and Social Media pieces that say that the Movie is Good so they continue to Make MONEY off of it for as long as it’s in the Box Office. (Let’s not forget, Ragnorak made just as much as The Justice league did)

Because of all of these Factors, when you are going to talk about the movie a week after you watch, you are STRONGLY encouraged to say how awesome it was. And the People who said it sucked, well, they must just be no-good haters who want to ruin your happiness, RIGHT? There is no way the thing that you watched ONCE can be bad, it must be something else. There is no way I was wrong, that what I liked is bad, that my reasoning can be flawed. It must be those Haters.

And this Line of thinking Works .... for a little bit. The thing is, movie last forever (at least with the internet) and the internet LOVES to over-analysis everything. Piece by Piece, more and more voices start to voice some little things they didn’t like, and than those little things start to pile up, and more and more little things pile up, and OMG This Movie is horrible how did I ever like it in the first place.

You want to see this in Action. Watch Mauler’s A Critique of Star Wars: The Force Awakens - Introduction. Mauler has a whole playlist talking about the Sequel Star Wars movies, and it’s like 24 hours long when you include all 3 movies and like 5 parts of it (Each on like 2 hours long). You don’t have to watch the whole thing, just Watch the first 5 minutes of this specific video. You’ll see this EXACT thing happening to Everyone when it came to The Force Awakens.

One other Problem with the Thor IP that should be address though. IMO, the biggest problem with Thor, is honestly Thor. I don’t think Chris Hemsworth every capture that spirit of Thor, as Least in comparison to the other 3 major character for Avengers (2012). So, arguably the 4 most important characters of the Avengers was Iron Man, Thor, Captain America and Loki. Iron Man was the character to get the MCU kicked off, but Thor and Captain America Movies were there to build up momentum and build up to the Avengers. Chris Evans did a great job capturing Cap down-to-earth persona and how he really does want to be a good leader, a good man. RDJ did a FANTASTIC Job capture both the Light and Dark elements of Tony Stark. I don’t think I need explain with Hiddleston did a good Job capturing the spirit of Loki. So, that Leaves Thor.

In the Comics, the basic Idea of Thor is that Thor is an Arrogant Superman. Like Superman, Thor is really strong, nearly invincible, and just Loves Humans and the Earth while not actually begin Human (his mom is the Earth Though). Unlike Superman Though, Thor often thinks too Highly of Himself and can act like a Total Dick at times. In most versions of the Humbling of Thor, Thor often does a really Dick move that causes his banishment. However, even with his arrogant Nature, Thor still loves cute things and still wants to protect stuff.

Hemsworth, although doing a Great Job bringing the Body of Thor (look at those muscles), IMO never did an excellent job bring the warmth of Thor. Or, at least wasn’t as Good at doing Thor as Hiddleston was at doing Loki. Hiddleston, through just trying to do a Good job on his character, ultimately brought all the focus away from Thor and onto Loki. This ended up with the reaction, Thor was bad, but Loki was Good. Because the Main focus, Thor, wasn’t done well, both Thor and TDW suffered. Add to that that Marvel really never knew what to do with the Thor IP and you have a general atmosphere of “The Thor Movies sucked, but I like the Loki scenes,” a sentiment that I honestly agree with.

Hiddleston NAILS every scenes he’s in with Both Movies, but everyone else ... eh? Both Odin and Jane’s actors are phone it in, it’s not their worst performances, but it’s hardly their best. Humbling of Thor is Interesting, but Loki’s side of the story is Far more interesting. I mean, Thor gets banished and immediately gets a girlfriend and a nice life. If Loki didn’t go Mad and attack the Town, it’s likely Thor would have gotten married to Jane, been an amazing Trophy Husband and had 3 kids while Loki would have been miserable on the Throne. That’s not an interesting story for Thor.

TDW suffered from production problems. A director for the movie pulled out last minute and the movie was crap, then they noticed that Loki was popular and they did some Last minute re-shoots with Joss Whedon and Tom Hiddleston. Now it’s a crap movie with sprinkles of Great scenes. Honestly, cut out a lot of the Earth stuff, bring the Focus onto to Loki and I swear there is a great movie in the TDW, I just know it.

So, with the First two Thor movies having ?Eh? Thor content, fans wished for a new better thing and they wanted Ragnorak to be that new better movie. These Fans also ignored anything that said otherwise.

However, because of Taika’s habit of attacking Fans, it’s likely that it’s going to be hard for him to keep his fanbase. Bad movies can work for a time, but eventually People will move on to better thing. Transformers was able to make 3-4 somewhat successful movies but the 5 bombed. The same thing will happen to Taika if he’s not careful. If his next movie doesn’t scratch the same itch that the First movie does, people will re-examine Ragnorak with a critical lens and then it will be popular to bash on his movie.

There is a reason why Tom Hiddleston’s Loki Fans have endured for so Long. It’s because Loki in Thor and TDW really resonated with us, far more than most other Marvel Properties. Because of it, Loki’s personality, his strength and his stories are far more relatable and resonate and any other Marvel Characters. It on Marvel to make us products we are willing to support, not attack us when we don’t want to buy their crap.

For me, I have don’t like how Marvel (and Disney in general) is treating their characters and their fans. Until their general atmosphere improves (or they die in hell) I am going to read Through Loki Comic until I find those few Great one (I have fund like 5-10 out of 60 that are worth anything), continue to read fanfics from authors who give a crap and continue to promote and make Fan-based stuff that encourages Loki stuff I do like.

Um.... Thanks for reading my long answer. Thanks for sending asks.

PS: Do you have any good Loki work to recommend?

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delcat177 · 4 years

Photo

Text in captions, if that won’t read on text to voice please let me know <3

This is a half-year old, but I only paid Blobs Magician to help me out once and I’m fresh out of delicately painted acorns and he gave me commission rights so I’ll be tipping him a ziploc bag of goldfish later

I feel awkward writing about all of this--there was a bit of jealousy when I got my hyst (not projecting, I was told flat by a trans friend), and I worry that I may be making other people feel alone, anxious, or less-than in their gender by talking about it. If you feel that at all, please, stop right now. Don’t look in the mirror, because mirrors are scary. Like, really scary, they have ghosts or stuff probably, but also in the genders sense, so instead, look in your head. Look at your self. It’s in there, because it is you. What is happening to me now is a shell upgrade, a hermit crab moving domiciles. I was a boy once, then a young man, then a oldman, and now I’m a oldman with a society man shell. Never mistake the shell for the crab, go “hey crab, I like your shell, I hope you find the perfect shell, because you are the perfect inhabitant” and celebrate that crab. Because we are all crabs, and we are all beautiful, and we all deserve the shells that reflect us as individuals, and anyone who says otherwise can fuck off into a spiny urchin bush and not have a shell. Or. Something. Did I say I felt awkward? I AM awkward. But anyway, drive-in movie totals and such after cut, potential TMI, and protect yourself love yourself, you lovely crabs <333

(with cut ‘cause longtext is looong)

(ORIGINAL POST)

Alt-text: I'm always the last one to know

so uh

I'm a blithe idiot and somehow never processed or dared to dream that this was possible

which makes the timeline look SPECTACULARLY dumb but I was going through SO MANY LIFESTYLE CHANGES

HYST DATE: SEPTEMBER 28, 2016

2017: Me: Man, living in the townhouse has really amped up my leg game, all that up and down stairs.

Me: I'm down ten pounds since the hyst! Megan: That's probably your natural weight. Me: That or getting there. Not surprising, I'm not feeding the beast constantly.

Me: *punches Megan playfully in the arm* Megan: OW goddammit Del that hurt like SHIT! Me: oh my God I'm sorry I didn't mean to! Megan: It's okay, just be careful! Me: That's so weird I'm sorry D8

Me: man is it just me or am I good in bed lately? oh right I'm the only one here...I guess it's because I'm more confident?

Me: ghghjh my hair's thinning out at the temples, well been expecting that one for awhile, at least it waited for 30

2018:

Me: Holy shit, the stairs plus the shopping is paying off! My thighs are HUGE! I wonder if cracking a watermelon with these bad boys is hyperbole. I bet I could though. I BET.

Me: Down to 162 and holding, fuck you past doctors! I just needed ENERGY goddammit!

Me: Wow, I've lost a lot of weight from my face especially. That makes me super happy. Anyway better pluck these stray hairs. ...have I been yanking these more lately? Getting old is weird.

Me: (struggling with shorts) Megan: Do you need a belt? Me: I'M WEARING A BELT (lifts shirt to reveal belt double wrapped around hips) Megan: Well then Me: I just need to buy new shorts, my ass is just GONE Megan: In the meantime maybe pay attention to what underwear you have on Me: yeah thank God for boxers

Me: My acne scars are heck of acting up. I wish I hadn't picked at my face so much as a kid, I guess the pores are just kinda fucked, I've read about that happening.

2019:

Megan: New shorts look good Me: I am so bad at shopping Megan: At least you have them now Me: I'm an assless chap is all Megan: Go to bed Del Me: It's four in the afternoon

Me: My throat feels so *thick* lately. I haven't been hitting the vape that often, why does it feel weird? And why am I noticing my own voice more? I NEVER notice my own voice, I make a point of it. Am I subconsciously pitching it lower like I used to do talking on Skype because I'm more socially active? What is my brain I'm so AWKWARD Me: UGH I'm falling back into derma habits, I haven't picked in my face in years, I think I need to change cleansers. But...my face looks...good? I guess I had this hiding under that baby fat all these years. ...I guess? Me: Am I getting a hump from my bad computer posture? Shit. Me: Oh no, it's not a hump, my shoulders are starting to put on muscle! That's a relief. That must be from the...laundry? Carrying...laundry?

AUGUST 5, 2019: Me: (lying in bed) 2 + 2

Me: wait why am I putting on shoulder muscle now? I've been doing laundry for years, and it's never done that. And my legs didn't get this buff with a routine job where I was walking three hours a d--

Me:

AUGUST 14, 2019:

New Endocrinologist: We'll test your levels to make sure it isn't a pituitary gland issue or (some syndrome I've already forgotten the name of), and it could be because there's some small element of testosterone in the estrogen replacement, but the brain does produce androgens. We can definitely look into switching you to T if you want, but if it's facial hair you're worried about...well, once the follicle is there, it's there. These are irreversible changes.

Me: No on that then but irreversible,, like,, what I have now,, is forever,,,,,,,?

New Endocrinologist: Forever, and I would expect to continue to see muscle gains if you work out.

Me:

welcome to my second puberty please be aware it apparently involves as many mood swings as the first one but i'm tryin'

Since then, it’s been continuing confirm, confirm, confirm.

My acne turned out to be little follicles growing in odd places--not fullblown hair, just enough to irritate the skin while it was developing. Tiny tufts of 1-3 entirely white, downy hairs have popped up in a few places on my breasts. The real fuzz proliferation has been in the southern quarters--with all delicacy, there is no itch like the itch of hair beginning to grow anywhere sweat can proliferate, and I now understand why cis men scratch privates in public. Having NOT gone through a unified social experience with a peer group accepting of such measures, I am sure there is footage on grocery store cams of someone with an agonized expression walking like he has a weasel down his pants and worrying that 30 is early for hemorrhoids. Both have settled in for the most part, leaving me with a very fluffy, barely-there peach fuzz mustache that’s only noticeable in the right light, some spare hairs across my chin and neck that I keep in order, and a profound relief that I prefer boy shorts and swim trunks.

I went through a few weeks of being especially rank despite all the showering and was worried that was my new normal, but apparently T sweats be like that, and I’m back to smelling like...whatever I smell like, probably lavender with our fabric softener. I experienced what I believed was a relapse a month later that turned out to be a false positive--specifically, our thermostat was slowly dying and frog-boiling us until it got hot enough that my sister also went “dear God it is a sauna in here”, leading to replacement of the faulty element and another notch in the “my life is dumb” bedpost.

My face bonebs, which I frankly expected the least out of (when I wasn’t expecting at all), have slowly but surely been rearranging, a visual effect doubled by the much faster redistribution of fat. I honestly have no idea how this one works. I know more about dead bonebs than live ones. I would doubt it if I didn’t have pictures to back it up. I would say it’s easier to look in the mirror now, but I already stated my opinion on mirrors, do it too much and a skeleton will pop out. It WILL. My brain tells me this and it is never wrong about fears and or phobias. Don’t do it kids.

If there’s been a single most beautiful moment so far, it’s been getting back into Steven Universe after a long hiatus, opening my mouth to sing the opening like I did years ago, and realizing all at once that I was singing falsetto. I ran it back, dropped a register, and the first names I sang became those who would believe in me most. There were tears, and later, showing it off, there were fierce hugs. (Yes, the first ep I watched once I realized was Stevonnie, and YES GARNET GOING “GO HAVE FUN” wah)

I can’t begin to express the validation--I am no gender essentialist’s data point, this is MY experience and no one else’s, but I keep going “my aunt had a hyst and didn’t transition and I had one and I am because my brain makes androgens my brain makes androgens MY BRAIN MAKES ANDROGENS IT HAS BEEN MAKING ANDROGENS ALL THIS TIME IT HAS BEEN TRYING” and living in that, living in “not even SCIENCE is against me”, which is a tremendous thing as a scientist. (As a scientist, I would be a blithering dullard to claim this is the only thing that affects or proves my gender, and I do not. Again, TERFs fuck off. This is simply a very validating thing to me, personally, in my experience. I’m not thrilled that I have to underline that this hard dammit internet.)

What lies ahead is...I don’t know! I thought I was done changing, but the post I saw that nudged me to finally do this on here went “you may stop being able to cry for awhile” and this is Important because I have been trying to figure out if I have Sjogren’s but apparently I have androgens which is slightly easier to pronounce. I’m not sure how I feel about that, because transitioning is a lot of “I’m not sure how I feel about this” and then things being okay. I would definitely say that the more I learn, the easier it is to feel steady and normal, which is important because the mood swings have been REAL. This is more than I asked for or bargained for, but I still only have one regret, and that’s that my hyst scars are just slightly asymmetrical and it Bothers Me, but even that is growing on me.

I don’t know how to end this post. I love you all to death, and I hope if you’re seeking transition, you find it and twenty dollars, and if you’re not seeking transition, you still find twenty dollars. Thank you so much for you and all you do and are. Remember--you are great!

Unless you’re truscum. Then this post isn’t for you (dammit Internet) and you can fall off a boardwalk onto a dead fish. Have fun with that!

hekk

#trans #trans mtf #trans timeline #del is a trans guy #gender #gender*#blobs magician #i'm sorry this wasn't sooner i was shy aaaaa #you are all tock to me #and you are all wonderful crabs #let us go for a scuttle #longpost #long post #scrolling

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

5x06: I Believe the Children Are Our Future

Then:

Sam and Dean Winchester started the apocalypse

Now:

At a home in Alliance, Nebraska, a young woman, Amber, stays up late watching TV while she babysits. Totally enraptured with what appears to be Herbie the Love Bug Cujo on the television, she starts to mindlessly brush her hair.

She hears a noise and heads to the closet to investigate. Lol, it’s just the kid she’s babysitting all bloody and dead with a spike through his head. Well, not really. He’s just a prankster that won’t go to bed. Before the kid will go to bed though, we have to insert gross sexist funnies. Amber resumes watching TV, while dogs bark and howl outside. Much later the parents come home to find her asleep on the couch. Scratch that, she’s actually dead with horrible claw marks on the side of her face.

Agents Page and Plant are on the case! Sam and Dean take a look at the victim at the morgue. It’s there that they learn that she scratched her own brains out. They next head to interview the family. While Sam talks with the parents, Dean finds the kid and grills him. Lol. The kid denies knowing anything at first, but Dean breaks him by threatening to take him downtown.

It turns out that he put itching powder on the hair brush. Sam is doubtful that ground up maple seeds would cause that much itching.

Sam gets a call and they rush to the hospital, where a charred body is being zipped up in a body bag. The man was electrocuted, and the only witness insists that it was the joy buzzer in his hand that did it.

Dean’s on the case!! He buys some ham, rubber gloves, and welding goggles and joy buzzes a week’s worth of meals. The joy buzzer cooks faster than a pressure cooker and the ham is cooked in a matter of seconds.

“That crap isn’t supposed to work.” Sam can’t believe it. Dean just starts to dig into the food. They think they’re possibly dealing with cursed objects.

They head to the magic shop that sold both items. Dean finds great joy in the whoopee cushion (AS IS YOUR RIGHT YOU BEAUTIFUL 10 YEAR OLD BOY).

The shop owner admits that kids aren’t really into magic anymore, but he did sell itching powder and a joy buzzer recently. Dean accuses him of being behind the deaths by electrocuting a rubber chicken. The brothers quickly realize their mistake and take off, leaving the poor shop owner in a state of existential trauma.

That night, a father tells his little girl about the magic of the tooth fairy. “So some freak is going to come in my room while I’m sleeping and take my tooth? Sounds scary, no thank you.” The father puts the tooth under her pillow anyway. Later that night she sneaks into his bedroom and places the tooth under his pillow. And that girl was right, and a stone cold brutal daughter, because the dad gets a visit from Hansel the tooth fairy and the results aren’t pretty.

Later at the hospital, the brothers discuss the latest happenings of the case. Besides the tooth fairy, a couple kids have stomach ulcers from mixing Pop Rocks and Soda (I thought your stomach exploded from mixing the two!) and one guy’s face “froze that way.”

Dean admits to believing that Sea Monkeys were real (Of course he believed in that beautiful domestic family lie.) Dean surmises that kids all believe the things that are happening. Sam wonders if this is the work of a trickster.

While Dean works on his side of ham, Sam does some research into where the victims lived and finds they’re all within a range of a house in the middle of the country. Dean asks if their motel is in the circle, and then holds up his hands, palms covered in hair. DUDE. Sam reminds Dean that he can go “blind from that too.” LOL.

They head out to check out the house. Sam starts to pick the lock on the door, when it is opened by a little boy. Sam asks his name but he wants to know who they are. They flash their badges, but the little boy takes a long look at them. And I’ve said this before, but I’m saying it again. This picture is my origin story with this show:

Anyway, Jesse, the kid, lets them inside so they can talk with him. Dean finds a picture of the “tooth fairy”. He then asks Jesse about all the cases and finally brings out the joy buzzer. “You shouldn’t have that,” Jesse insists. He tells Dean that it can electrocute a person, but Dean tells him that’s not true. Jesse seems to believe him. And to further his point, Dean buzzes it on Sam. (MY GOD, what if Jesse was just trying to make you go away?) Sam is NOT AMUSED.

Leaving the house, Dean has no remorse for buzzing his brother. They know where the crazy in the town is coming from now. Sam does some research and, get this, Jesse was adopted. He has no father listed on his birth certificate, but his birth mom, Julia Wright, lives on the other side of the state.

The boys go to her house and ask about her son. Julia insists that she doesn’t have a son but when Sam asks her about her pregnancy (uh RUDE) she races for the kitchen and grabs a container of salt. She chucks some at them and they just stand there. “You’re not demons?” she asks in surprise.

Over a cup of tea, she tells them that she was possessed by a demon. For nine months, to be specific. (It’s usually more like 10 months, bbys.) “It used my body to give birth to a child.” Not gonna lie, with all the current news and legislation about women’s autonomy over their bodies, this line is EXTRA chilling. Once the child was born, she was able to gain control over the demon. She piled rock salt into her mouth and the demon left in a whirl of smoke. She gave the baby up for adoption but, uh, there was no father. It was a “virgin birth.” (If anything feels hackneyed in this episode, it’s the insistence on making her an outright virgin just for narrative symmetry.)

Dean tells her, rather gently, that Jesse is alive and is a “good kid.” When they leave, the spectre of a demon-baby requires a call to Cas. Back at “The Liberty” in their Americana-themed motel room (ffs Wanek, you’re killing me), Cas appears, ready to smite the child. Sam and Dean are taken aback. The child, Cas explains, is extra powerful and known throughout the world by many names. But in America, they know him as the antichrist. Ooo JUST in time for the apocalypse! Great timing.

Cas sits down after delivering this message and a whoopie cushion wheezes out slowly, deflating (see what I did there) the situation.

Sam wants to know if Jesse is the devil’s son. LOL Sam, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous! What a ludicrous idea for a plot line on the show. The child is simply “demon spawn” and is hidden from both angels and demons. Jesse’s powers have ballooned since Lucifer rose and Cas thinks Lucifer wants to find Jesse so he can use him to destroy the host of Heaven. Uh, don’t worry, bby. You’ll help with that in the next couple of seasons.

“We’re the good guys. We don’t just kill children,” Sam insists. Cas gets up in Sam’s face, telling him that he used to be willing to do whatever it took to win a war. Cas! Did you not learn a lesson last season? Oh...I guess you were kinda dead for a little bit. Cas doesn’t think “it” can be trusted not to destroy everything, but Sam wants to tell Jesse the truth. Then he might make the right choice to, you know, not destroy the world and Heaven. Cas stares Sam down. “You didn’t,” Cas tells Sam. BURN. (Meanwhile, I stare meaningfully at Season 14.)

Back at Julia’s house, a postal worker surprises her on her porch. It’s a demon! The demon opens Julia’s mouth and in a disgustingly intimate shot, forces itself inside and possesses her again. UGH. It grabs the information she had about Jesse’s whereabouts and heads out to find him.

Jesse walks downstairs at night for a glass of water, only to be surprised by Cas. Oh, Cas is just there for late night ice cream sundaes, right? “I won’t hurt you,” Cas lies with a knife hidden behind his back. He corners Jesse and emotion cracks his face for the first time as he apologizes, then whips up the knife. Cas bby.

Dean and Sam burst in to save Jesse, only to find him alone. “Was there a guy here in a trenchcoat?” Dean asks. Jesse points to a toy on the floor. It’s Cas!

I do enjoy this moment. It’s both funny and a great display of Jesse’s powers and innocence. Later, Dean carefully sets Cas on the mantel. (#Symbolism) “Is he your friend?” Jesse asks. Yeah, Dean. Is he? “No,” Dean says hastily. Come on, Dean. You don’t want to be turned into an action figure, too? #ActionFigureBoyfriends

Dean whips out his inner nerd to talk to Jesse. Jesse has got superpowers, see? And it just so happens that Dean and Sam travel the world looking for kids with superpowers to be trained at a secret base in South Dakota. “Like the X-Men?” Hell ya, kid. If...the X-Men wasn’t set in a grand mansion and was instead set in a run-down used car lot. Actually, I would watch the hell out of that.

Jesse smiles at this thought, when Dean gets suddenly tossed against a wall. It’s the demon possessing Julia! She tells Jesse that the Winchesters lied to him, and that she’s his mom. Dean manages to burst out that she’s a demon before she does the psychic equivalent of a throat punch.

For Pinned to the Wall AGAIN Science:

“Everyone lied to you,” the demon tells him. His parents, the Winchesters… “You can do anything you want,” she says. She tries to tap into his anger and lights flare and a fire rages in the fireplace. “Imagine,” she says. “A world without lies.” OMG ANDREW DABB.

Sam admits (from his place pinned to the wall) that they lied. Jesse makes the demon “sit down and shut up,” so that Sam can explain what’s going on. Sam tells him about the apocalyptic war going on, and that the demons want to use him like a pawn. With a sentence, Jesse expels the demon from Julia. “Kid, you’re awesome,” Dean says.

Dean picks up the little trench coat action figure. “He’s kinda a buddy of mine,” Dean says. He asks for Cas to be turned back.

“He tried to kill me,” Jesse spits out. Fair point, though Dean insists that Cas is a good guy - just confused. Dean puts Cas back on the shelf, uh, literally.

Then he tells Jesse that they’re going to take him to Bobby to get trained. “What if I don’t wanna fight?” Jesse asks. GREAT QUESTION, KID. They tell him that demons will be coming for him. Jesse wants to go with his parents but Sam and Dean caution him that his parents might die. (Um. Shouldn’t the risk be their choice? This kid is tiny, cannot make rational choices, and I bet they love him enough to die for him. But ooooookay.)

Jesse heads upstairs to say goodbye to his parents. (I’m shocked that his parents are real and asleep since this is the first time we see them.) In his room, his eyes light upon an Australia poster on his wall.

Sam and Dean, after a long wait, head upstairs. “He’s gone,” Cas announces from behind them. CAS! Cas reports that the town has been set back to rights (mostly) and that Jesse has left. Cas looks repentant. Hmmm perhaps he’ll take this lesson and apply it several seasons later?? Sam finds a note on the bed. Jesse left to keep his parents safe.

Sam and Dean talk about Jesse and how they destroyed his life by telling him the truth about his origin and the apocalypse.

Dean muses, “I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke. Protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it...the more I wish Dad had lied to us.” Sam agrees with that sentiment wholeheartedly.

It’s Cas! Now with Real Quoting Action!

All it takes is someone talking about an itch, or thinking about one even, and suddenly you can't stop scratching.

That’ll do, pig!

These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies.

So some freak is gonna come in my room while I'm sleeping and take my tooth? Sounds scary. No, thank you.

What do you know about demons?

You're Superman...minus the cape and the go-go boots.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 5x06 #i believe the children are our future #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #jesse turner #supernatural season 5

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thattimdrakeguy · 5 years

Text

A few scratches on his face and a bandage on his nose (a Batman one if you were curious) Timmy Drake looked close to laying on the ground. His lungs breathing in deeply and breathing out just as hard. He looked around him like he was expecting something, something, somewhere, at any given time, and he was all out of Batarangs. All he had was his brains, and his staff. Some other cyber-ninja stuff too but it was starting to spark from malfunctions.

Next to him floating in the air was his best friend Conner Kent, clone of Superman and his arch-energy Lex Luthor, LUTHOR, not Luger, he is not a 90s WWE superstar with a mullet, and shame on you for thinkings so, who looked prepped up and unbothered. Although it always does help when you’re bulletproof*. He had his hands behind his head and hovered like he was resting in a hammock on the beaches of hawaii.

The two of them were in a murky swamp. Dark at night and a mysterious myst all around. Guck was on the buttom of the Boy Wonder’s ninja toe’d shoes, but noticeably nothing on Superboy (must’ve been the floating). Unbothered as could be, and like he tends to do he opened his mouth for some highly worthy face palming material.

*Thanks to his tactile telekinesis.

“Are you kidding me? We’re not fine!” spouted Timmy face palming himself as one would expect. His cape retracted after one of the enemies of this story tried grabbing at it. His staff on stun mode like a Star Trek phaser, or at least that’s how he explained it, because he wasn’t gonna break his no-kill vow, especially not now, he was not gonna set that staff to kill. He held it up like a spear he was going to throw.

Rolling his eyes, the half-kryptonian clone patted the Boy Wonder on the back. “Relax, Wonderboy, it’s gonna be okay. Just chill out, this isn’t life or or other thing or nothing. So just like … not be tense, and stuff. Ya know? Just chuck a few birdarangs or something. (Is that what you call those?).”

“I’m out of those!”

“Out of Birdarangs-- Batarangs? Birda-bata-rangs?” he itched the back of his head and coughed into his fist “Umm … outta rangs?”

“Yes, I’m out of birdarangs!”

“(Oh, so that’s what you call those.)”

“And this is technically a life or death scenario, Conner! We can get bazapped at any moment!” the Boy Wonder turned around in a full circle in a bizarre battle pose, waiting for any strikes at any angle, at any time. He was prepared.

Finally putting his feet on the ground and putting his hands on his hips he yawned. “Nah, not really. Such an over-statement, and what happened to the no name rule?” he stuck out his tongue as he stretched his back. Would’ve thought they were playing in an arcade of some kind.

“Coooooonnnnnnneeeeeeeeer, SHUSH!” his nerves her pointed and jagged as he began to hear something. Something from the cold distance, being able to hear it from past the murky disgusting looking trees. Into the distance that only appeared to be a black void from where the boys were standing.

Not pleased with Robin’s words his hands on his hips turned to fists on his hips in a quick moment of sass-back, the classic game the two teenage heroes loved to engage in “Hey! Don’t gotta be rude, Batboy. I’m just trying to enjoy myself while we’re here.”

Snapping his whole body towards Superboy and back like a rubber band he put his finger on his lips for only a nanosecond before returning to battle positions “Nonono, not like that!” he that uses that same finger to point to the direction he heard it. “There’s something over there! Something … probably super nasty.” he engaged into his battle pose once again. As impractical as it probably was.

Cupping his ear in an attempt to hear the supposed nearby sound, Conner heard nothing, nothing at all. It felt as barren as could be besides a faint whisper “Pshhhh, there’s nothing over there!” he rolled his head and crossed his arms. He was starting to feel like how Tim normally does “and that pose by the way? Totally battle inappropriate. Batman would be pissed if he seen that form. If this was like, the olympics of battle poses, I’d rate that a 2 out of 10, and those 2 points are just for being my best friend, cuz you sure didn’t earn them the easy way, and you’d just be lucky I’m a bias friend.”

Trying not to let his friend get on his nerves the Wayne boy started to approach the sound, allowing it to get louder and louder. The Gotham sidekick appeared to be imitating a crab by how far apart his legs were spread and how he was walking sideways.

Crickets were getting louder, and there was a sound Timmy couldn’t quite put his fingers on. A rustling sound of some sorts. Then it hit him like a freight train, but that’s only because the flying fly creature snatched him right out from under his feet, grabbing him by the collar. “Superboy, help!”

Flying to the rescue with a swift punch and a quick grab, Conner Kent the Local Smallville student shined as the former Hero of Hawaii, making quick work of the fly creature and picking up his best friend from out below it. “Dude, you’re really not on your a-game right now are you?”

“Hey, shush! At least I heard that thing, what happened to your super hearing!” the 5ft 4 teeny teen was being held like he was on a honeymoon with his hypothetical husband.

Emotionally hurt, Tim could just feel Conner cringing from his own comeback “Low blow, Timmy. I can’t help it doesn’t work here! ‘Least I didn’t try using a big stick to try and whack the fly with. The heck are these things anyway?”

“I … dunno. Some kind of Brundle fly looking thing.”

Pausing for a moment as he hovered over a large chasm to try and understand that his friend as spoken “Brundle … fly? Dude, what the heck is a Brundle Fly, you can’t keep popping these science terms on me. I don’t know every fly ever.”

Sighing before responding, Tim crossed his arms as he stayed cozy in Superboy’s arms “It’s from The Fly!”

“Yeah yeah, I gathered that, but what fly?”

“Jeff Goldblum!”

“Dude, don’t be a total jerk-wad to Goldblum.”

Face-palming yet again, Timmy couldn’t believe his nerd ears “It’s a movie! Jeff Goldblum? The Fly? Scary movie? Jeff Goldblum has the teleporter thingy and a fly goes in and stuff, and then becomes a fly!”

“Sounds gross.” Conner said as he finally continued his flight towards safety.

“Oh trust me it is. Had to watch it with Nightwing, first time I tried by myself I had nightmares.”

“Really? Figured after Man-Bat you’d be used to trash like that.”

“That’s what Babs told me …” blushing from embarrassment he only looked inwards towards Superboy’s chest. Enjoying the ride over top the chasm of what looked like an endless abyss. Feeling the light breeze of motion hit his chubby red cheeks. Then, because of course there’s a ‘then’, Timmy boy heard the sound again. The screeching sound of the Brundle Flies. “Oh no, dude, watch out! They’re coming!”

Having a hard time comprehending what Timmy could be talking about he didn’t take any direct action “Umm, be more specific if you want me to actually understand what you’re talking about”.

WHAM -- the two boys have been struck. Nothing to grab onto, and Tim had fallen out of Conner’s arms and down into the chasm, seeing the green-toned sky with musty gray clouds turn to black in an instant. With his best pal Conner Kent falling in close behind him. Letting out only a large high pitch squeal of fear before it all turned black. Falling into the darkness of the chasm, unable to return back. For a very good, if frustrating reason.

With his eyes close and heavy breathing, Tim was okay, don’t you worry, he was just breathing heavily as he kept his hands on his knees trying out a breathing exercise Cass had taught him. “That, totally, bombed.” he spoke, in a calm squeaky tone, his voice cracking after each word. Opening his eyes to see the bright red glowing letters say ‘GAME OVER.’

Taking off his headset he saw Conner with it already taken off, not a scratch on him in any shape or form, looking mighty pissed off at him. “You’re telling me. That was your fault 100%.”

Feeling offended Tim put his hand to his chest as if he was checking the damage on his pride “What? No way! If you just used your super heari--”

“It’s VR, Timmy! There is no way for my super hearing to work in a video game! It’s all in the game! Use your bird-brain, man.”

#I don't write #but I wrote this #yikes in advance

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studiobeebo · 6 years

Text

Wish Come True

Commission for | @simply-nerdy-gal

Pairing | Aya Hashimoto x Sero Hanta

Word Count | 2,371

Note: The festival featured in this fic is known as ‘Tanabata’, or the star festival! During this festival, people usually will write down wishes on small colorful strips of paper and hang them on bamboo due to it’s tall growth and closeness to the heavens and the stars, so if you’re curious about the mention of wishes in this fic, this is what it is referring to!

The words ‘It’s not really a date’ had flown through Aya’s mind and past her lips a countless amount of times that week, however now that she stood staring at herself in the mirror perfecting the small bit of makeup she had decided to put on for the hundredth time that evening, her thoughts on that phrase were beginning to change.

Lately it seemed, out of all her friends that knew about her situation, she was the only one in denial about her relationship with her close ‘friend’ Sero. Everyone insisted that she hung out with him way too often to be ‘just friends’ and made it clear they were shocked that she didn’t seem to notice the lovestruck, dorky look he’d always have on his face whenever she was around. Of course, it wasn’t that she didn’t like hearing those things, everyone loves to hear that people think them and their crush would be a good couple, however she could still never bring herself to agree. For some reason, she just couldn’t fathom someone as amazing and friendly as him liking her, so instead she brushed off everyone’s thoughts and assumptions, insisting they were just friends and that nothing was going on between the two.

Because of her casualness around the chatter, the noise of the possibility of Aya and Sero being together began to die down slowly, though the moment she brought up the fact that he had asked to go to the Star Festival with her the upcoming weekend, it was as if the intense shipping of the two had come back full force.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on..” Mina interrupted, a smile of disbelief on her face as she continued on. “You’re telling me he asked you on a festival date and you two still aren’t dating!?”

“I-It’s not a date!” She huffed, rolling her eyes and wishing her inner emotions weren’t always so easily on display in the form of her now warm cheeks and stuttered out words. “We’re just..hanging out, that’s all..”

“Hanging out, together, alone.” Jirou chimed in only for Mina to catch her drift and add on her own two sense soon after. “And he’ll probably insist on paying. And I’ll bet he’ll compliment your looks at least twice.”

“Twice? I feel like he’ll aim for three times, but you never kn-”

“Guysss!” Aya said, flopping her head down onto the table, “It’s seriously not gonna be like that, you guys are just getting way ahead of yourselves.”

‘And getting my hopes up’ She thought to herself. Aya loved her friends of course, but the more they talked about it, the more nervous she became. She was almost afraid of them hyping up her confidence because she just knew it would lead to her doing something stupid like finally confessing to Sero after months of daydreaming about him and cherishing every moment she got to spend with him.

“Sure sure,” Jirou laughed, “Either way hopefully you guys have fun. Speaking of that though did you guys tie up any wishes this year?”

“I did! I want a new set of headphones!”

“Dude! You’re not supposed to say what you wished for!!” Jirou laughed, “What about you Fishin? Aya?”

“Ah yeah! I put something up.” Fishin nodded, a small smile on her face as she turned to Aya along with everyone else as they awaited her response.

“I did too, hopefully some of that magic will rub off on all of us.” She laughed out, her usually peppy smile returning to her features as she sat up in her seat and stretched her arms above her head.

Luck was definitely something she needed as she thought back on that conversation that had happened a few days earlier. At the time discussing her ‘date’ with Sero just felt like playful, teasing chatter, but now that he was meant to show up at her door any minute, she began to get a bit nervous again. She didn’t know why, it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d ever hung out alone, in fact they spent a lot of time just hanging out together in one another’s rooms, but for some reason this just felt different. It was like an itch she couldn’t scratch, but unfortunately she ran out of time to even try as the sound of soft knocking at her door brought her out of her thoughts.

Aya was quick to slip on her sandals, give herself one last look in her mirror before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

“Hey! Sorry I’m sorta late, I lost track of time.” Sero said with a sheepish smile on his face as he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, though his embarrassment for being late was quickly aimed towards embarrassment for how long his eyes lingered on her figure. She was beautiful, after all, somehow even more so than usual, and his poor heart almost couldn’t take it even though the evening had only just begun.

“That’s fine! It took me a bit longer to get ready then I thought it would anyways.” Aya chuckled in response. “But, um, are you all ready to go?” She asked, noticing how he was just sort of staring at her until his eyes widened a bit upon his brain realizing he had been asked a question.

“Yeah! Er, yeah, sorry...You look really nice, Aya.” He said, his brain losing track of his words once more and for a moment he wished he had kept his mouth shut, but the soft blush that fanned over her cheeks and adorable as ever smile that formed on her face eased his worries.

“Oh, thank you..” She mumbled, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her before shaking her head a bit as a way to tell herself to pull herself together. “Well anyways we should get going and try to beat the crowds a bit!” She cheered, giving him another vibrant smile that he happily returned with a nod as the two set off together.

It was Sero’s ability to melt her insecurities and nervousness away with his happy and laid back demeanor that had made her fall for him, so she was happy that he was able to work his charm this time around as well as her nervousness slowly faded away as they chatted happily together the whole way to where all the festival activities were going on. They arrived at the perfect time where it seemed the crowds were just starting to build, giving a lively and vibrant air to the whole place as the hundreds of colorful lanterns and sparkling string lights lit up the streets that were lined with almost just as many booths.

It was a beautiful sight indeed, the soft glow of the lights under the moonlight giving a warm vibe to everything it touched, though Sero had to admit nothing was as impressive as the way the light shone off of Aya’s features. His friends had been telling him over and over again to just finally tell her how he felt about her, but for some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It seemed like every time he finally worked up the courage and walked in to school ready to spill his heart to her by the end of the day, his bravery would falter the second she smiled that heart stopping smile and waved a good morning to him. Still, despite his previous failures, he was putting all his money on tonight and all that was left was to hope for the best.

“Oooh they have yakitori over there! We should get some, I’m starving!!” Aya cheered, being pretty honest in using the term ‘starving’ since she’d specifically not eaten much during the day just to save up for all the amazing festival foods she knew she’d be able to munch on in the evening.

“Oh yeah I’m pretty hungry too, training was intense today. Then again, it kinda always is with Aizawa.” Sero groaned in response, following her lead to the small booth that drew them both in with the amazing smell. He was surprised to see her pull out her own wallet once they ordered though, but that only reminded him that he technically never really said this was a date.

“Ah hey, I can pay! I’ve been doing some odd jobs around the neighborhood to save up some money anyways.” He said, quickly putting a hand out to stop her before digging out his own wallet and handing over the right amount.

“Oh, thank you!” Aya said, a small blush finding its way to her cheeks yet again as she took her own skewer and handed him the other, forcing away the memory of what Mina had said only a few days prior.

“What have you been saving up for?” She asked curiously through a small mouthful of food, not wanting to wait a second more to keep her stomach from growling.

“Well it was for tonight for yo-” He stopped, almost choking on his food as he realized he almost just outed his intentions of saving up just so he could spoil her for a night. “Yakitori! For Yakitori! I figured there’d be some being sold somewhere tonight, I haven’t had it in ages!” He laughed awkwardly, kicking himself mentally for that horrible excuse for a cover and letting out a relieved sigh when he heard Aya laugh at how strange it was to save up for a specific food.

“I’d say that’s money well saved then, this is awesome!” She laughed out, already moving back into the flow of people and following along to look at all the different booths presenting all sorts of games and snacks, and while her words were aimed at the food, Sero couldn’t help but smile and nod with his eyes on her instead.

“Yeah, it is pretty awesome..”

He could have stood there staring for hours, a habit he had picked up some time ago when he first realized just how hard he had fallen for her, but after a moment he shook himself from his stupor and followed after her. There were plenty of things the night offered for them to enjoy after all, and enjoy them they did. The two of them spent all night going from booth to booth, playing silly nostalgic games and eating way too many sweets, but despite their tired legs and aching stomachs it was surely a night to remember, and what better way to end such an incredible night then to watch the fireworks from the perfect spot the two of them had somehow managed to snatch.

While the games and other entertainment of the night was surely fun, there was nothing that lit up a smile on his face as bright as the fireworks displayed before them more than that completely absorbed and content smile shown on Aya’s face. It was like all her troubles had melted away leaving nothing but happiness and warmth and knowing she felt that way made him feel just the same.

For a split moment, it was like even the loud blasts of the colorful fireworks had faded into silence as Aya’s gaze shifted to his own, that ghost of a smile still lingering on her face that was so entrancing that Sero hardly noticed the space between the two closing in despite him being the one closing it and before he knew it, the rush of his beating heart and exploding fireworks came back all at once in the form of a single spark bursting from the feeling of his lips pressing against her own. He could only wish that he could be frozen in that moment forever, savoring the warmth of her lips that slowly pressed back against his own, but his senses slammed back into his mind as quickly as they had gone and he scrambled to pull away, cheeks flaring and chest heaving for air. He couldn’t even bring himself to say anything for a second as he just stared into her innocently blinking eyes that seemed full of nothing but curiosity and something else he wasn’t sure of, but he didn’t have time to linger on that.

“C-Crap, did I seriously just do that!?” Was all he could muster, fumbling backwards in his spot. “I’m so sorry I didn’t even--I didn’t mean to like..that wasn’t what I had in mind! I mean I, I guess I did but not all weird and sudden like that!”

It was as if his careful words had brought her out of her own trance, her cheeks burning even more as she replayed that single moment in her head once more as if to make sure it had actually happened, but the look of worry on his face reminded her that she hadn’t even responded yet.

“Oh! That’s..that’s okay, It wasn’t a bad thing or anything I don’t think.” She said, her calm tone surprising even her. It wasn’t that her heart wasn’t pounding out of her chest at the moment, but it was just..a nice feeling, to have all of one’s pent up thoughts and emotions summed up and returned in one single action.

“Seriously?” Sero asked in response, his rigid figure finally relaxing as he realized she really didn’t look mad at all, in fact the way she was biting her lip just to keep her smile from growing any bigger was incredibly cute.

“Yeah, it’s..” She stopped, shaking her head and laughing at herself for no particular reason other than she was filled with a childish sense of lovestruck giddiness. “I wrote down a wish, to hang up on the bamboo.”

“..You mean for the festival?” He asked curiously, his frazzled brain not really catching onto what she was trying to get at and forcing her to continue. It seemed luck and a little bit of the night’s magic really had rubbed off on her and while the pounding in her chest and warmth still lingering on her lips was a bit overwhelming, happiness was all that she felt.

“Mhm, and I’m just happy that it really came true.”

#mha #my hero academia #commissions

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