#i was wondering what his ''unfinished business'' but holy god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

upwards-descent · 2 years

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Matcha

"Peppermint hot chocolate for Stacey? Peppermint hot chocolate for Stacey and an extra hot flat white for Shawn."

Peach scanned his eyes around the cafe. Of course he recognized the exact people who had ordered the drinks and of course they weren't moving an inch to claim their beverages. Typical. The flicker of frustration that made his tail puff out subtly was a good piece of evidence as to why he wasn't allowed to work the register. Oh well. He wasn't here for customer service anyways. He was here to make drinks.

"Hey, Peach," Alyssa called over her shoulder, jotting down another order on a cup. "We got an earl grey latte and an iced pumpkin spice latte coming up."

"On it!"

Sometimes Peach worried he'd gotten this job out of pity. He filled a cup most of the way with hot water and dunked in a tea bag. Two metal cups were filled with milk and promptly steamed. The owner knew his mother. Unfortunately, she knew Peach's entire situation. Fatherless from birth, his mother put in assisted living since he was five, a real sob story. When he was young, he and his mom were close. Calliope was a soft spoken woman with a heart of gold and a genius intellect. She was selfless, passionate, and would give the very clothes off her own back to anyone in need. She was also, however, delusional.

"Shit, Alyssa, your handwriting is so bad," Peach bemoaned, realizing he may have just wasted product. "Does this say soy milk or skim milk?"

"Soy milk. Sorry." Alyssa's expression flickered with annoyance.

Rather than apologize, knowing he'd just been an asshole, Peach went quiet, his ears laying flat against his skull. He dumped out the milk and grabbed the correct item from the mini fridge. Calliope was convinced Peach's father was not of Earth. She said he flew down on a space ship and swept her off her feet but had to leave to tend to unfinished business. As if. Peach knew the truth. She'd fucked some junkie and he flaked. Maybe he shot up radioactive waste and that was why he's the only known freakish cat-human hybrid. Maybe his family had latent superhuman DNA but instead of being able to fly or run faster than light, he was prone to fleas and jumped at loud noises. Once the milk was steamed, Peach added pumpkin spice syrup, honey, and cinnamon to the bottom of one cup. When the milk hit the sweeteners, it turned a funny orange color.

Peach tried not to hate his mother. She was sick. He knew she was a wonderful person, he had very fond memories of his childhood, but from adolescence onward was hell. The only person who supported him was himself. At least he could afford nice things now. His studio apartment was cheap since he lived in a rough part of town and he made enough money to fund his hobbies. He was a recluse so nothing was wasted on clubbing or socializing or whatever. Life was... Fine. It hurt sometimes but it was fine.

"Earl grey latte and iced PSL for Terri? Earl grey and pumpkin spice for Terri."

Sliding the drinks across the counter, Peach was relieved that the two previous ones were gone. He wiped down his station and turned to apologize to Alyssa when the front door jangled open.

Peach's jaw dropped.

The most handsome man he'd ever seen in his entire life walked in. He was built like a god and very little was left to the imagination. His thighs were like tree trunks, his arms like canons. While the hair all over his firm chest and soft belly was dark, what swooped off his scalp was a lovely salt and pepper. He had kind eyes and a dazzling smile. For a moment, Peach wondered why he was in cosplay in public on a Tuesday afternoon, only to realize the Adonis before him was a superhero.

Holy shit.

Scrambling over to the register, Peach swore under his breath when he accidentally bumped into Alyssa. She had venom in her eyes.

"I'm so so sorry," Peach hissed under his breath. "You get my share of tips today, please, I just. I NEED to talk to this guy."

Shockingly, Alyssa stepped back a little, still hovering, still cautious, but she shook her head and smiled. Peach grinned excitedly.

"Afternoon!" The man beamed, clasping his hands. "Super cute place you got here! Didn't even know you all existed."

"Welcome! We've been here for five years," Peach punched himself mentally. He reeled himself in and grinned wider. "How can we help you?"

"How's your matcha?" The man tapped his lips as he scoured the menu. "I haven't had a good matcha latte in a while."

Oh my god, this holy specimen was interested in his favorite drink? Peach found himself tripping over his own words and delighted gesticulating.

"Yes! Oh, I love matcha and we have GOOD matcha," Peach leaned far over the counter so he could point at the chalkboard. "If you like it plain, it's good, or we do it with strawberry milk or right now we're doing it with caramel for fall. I also like getting it with salted cold foam."

"All of those sound amazing," He absorbed his options, eyes dragging up and down. "The strawberry one sounded the best, a large, please."

"Hot or iced?" Alyssa piped up. She was a much better cashier.

"Iced, please. Thank you."

She typed in the order and he slipped a wad of bills into their cutesy piggy bank tip jar. Peach didn't even wait for Alyssa to write the order on a cup. He plucked one up and started working. As he steamed half the milk to help the matcha dissolve better, the man took in the rest of the cafe. Cuppa Charm was pretty damn cutesy, everything in soft colors and decorated like a children's bedroom. They offered oversized plushies to serve as drinking companions for solitary diners. You could lose your ass in the armchairs, they were so soft. It was Peach's paradise, really, and perfectly matched his aesthetic.

"Been working here for long?"

Peach put in considerable effort to tear his focus away from his task to address the man. He despised small talk, especially while he was working, but this man absolutely deserved his attention.

"Since we opened," He replied primly. "Since I was about 22."

"You get a lot of regulars?"

"Oh, I'm sure, I never really pay attention," The steamer hissed and Peach retrieved the milk. "I'm kinda more... Head down and work."

"I respect that," He smiled and Peach's heart fluttered. "Well if this is as delicious as you say, I may have to come back for more."

His cheeks were burning and he wondered if his pupils were as round and big as he expected. Based on the guy's little chuckle, they probably were. Spooning strawberry preserves into the cup, along with the matcha powder, Peach topped the drink off with more milk, popped on a lid, and gave it a vigorous swirl. Setting it down on the counter, he watched the man's reaction.

"Here's your drink, uhm."

"Silas," He smiled. He had dimples under his beard. Wow. "Nice to meet you, Peach."

"How did you--"

He glanced down. Right. Name tag.

"Cute name," Silas took a sip. Even with the lid, some greenish foam clung to his moustache. "I'll be coming back for sure, this is absolutely delish. You have a good one, yeah?"

He winked and Peach squeaked, watching him swagger right out the door. Alyssa watched the whole ordeal without hiding any surprise, her brows raised high and her smile splitting her face from ear to ear.

"I have... NEVER seen you crush on someone before," She gawked, giggling. "Is he your type?"

"How is he not everyone's type?!" Peach threw his arms out wide. "Wow! I don't think I've ever seen a more handsome man in my LIFE."

"Well lucky you he liked the drink," Alyssa snorted. "And lucky him you work full-time."

Peach leaned his hip against the counter, wiping down the same inch with a rag for a few minutes. He couldn't stop staring at the door, quietly hoping Silas would come right back.

#writings #my oc #peach pit #silas cohen

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nctinthehouse · 2 years

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unfinished business

PAIRING: fem!reader x Johnny

GENRE: suggestive, smut-ish, crack, humour, roommates!au, university!au

SUMMARY: What happens when your roommate catches you in the middle of your de-stressing business?

WC: 2.4k

⚠️ WARNING(S): masturbation, mentions of sex, suggestive themes, horny reader lmao, language

A/N: To the anon who wanted something similar to laundry day, I hope you enjoy this one and to whoever reads this fic, I hope you enjoy it too 🥰

“Fuck this shit,” groaning out in frustration as you slam your pen down on your notebook, which is placed next to your laptop. You let out incoherent sounds onto the palm of your hands.

This assignment you were currently working on was giving you a tremendous amount of stress. It’s due in a few days, and you were nowhere near done.

You wanted to do something to make the stress go away so you can re-focus on the assignment with a clear mind.

You sit there in silence, staring blankly at your open document, trying to think of something you could do to get rid of all that stress. Your eyes scan through the hundreds of words in front of you, but your mind isn't even focused on what was written. Instead, you were focused on the continuous thoughts of your friend and roommate Johnny, who suddenly occupied your mind.

‎

You see, Johnny liked to be topless around the apartment from time to time, and it would often stir something inside of you whenever you saw him without a shirt on. Sometimes you wonder whether he does it on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It also didn't help since you had been crushing on your friend for a few months now.

Every time you see him like that, you want to smooth your hand across his broad shoulders and chest, down his toned body. You want to run your fingers across his washboard abs and tease him over the grey sweatpants he likes to wear all the time. You want to straddle him and place light kisses all over his face before moving on to his lips and-

Fuck.

Now you’re horny.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, so you quickly lie on the bed upside down (not sure why but you claimed it to be really comfortable) and wiggle your sweatpants down to your ankles before you begin your time of fun with your fingers. Or as you liked to call it, your “self-loving business”.

You didn’t care to close your bedroom door or to double-check that Johnny wasn’t home. You didn’t feel the need to since you knew that Johnny wasn’t home and wouldn’t be back anytime soon because he usually has a class around this time.

You continue your thoughts on Johnny, all the things that you want to do to him and the things that you want him to do to you. Things such as making out with him, him pleasing you with his long fingers, and you pleasing him with your mouth. You fantasise about him fucking you so hard, and god, it made you wonder how big he is down there.

You’re getting quite vocal at this point, chanting his name repeatedly from all those wild thoughts and rolling your eyes in pleasure. “Shit, Johnny!” you moan out, feeling yourself getting close to the end.

“Holy crap!!” says a voice you instantly recognise.

Johnny quickly shuts your door and heads next door to his room, processing what he heard and witnessed.

As soon as you heard Johnny's voice, your eyes instantly opened and stopped what you were doing, quickly pulling up your underwear and sweatpants.

"Shit, when did he get home?!" you murmur to yourself in shock. The fact that Johnny saw you half-naked and possibly heard you moan out his name for god knows how long made your eyes widen even more to the point it felt like it was going to pop out.

Because you were so busy satisfying yourself, you didn't realise how close to the edge of the bed you were on until you rolled over to the side, thinking that there was still space for you to lie on your stomach. Still, instead, you end up falling off the bed and on the floor, letting out a yelp as you land painfully on your back and butt.

You grab onto the edge of the bed to stand up before massaging your backside and butt to soothe the after-effects you were feeling. "Fuck!" groaning a bit too loudly than you intended to this time, not in pleasure but pain and embarrassment.

Meanwhile, next door, as Johnny unpacks his study materials from his bag, he suddenly hears a loud groan which makes him jump slightly. He instantly knew that was you because of what he had witnessed a few minutes ago. Johnny raises his eyebrows and mouths a "wow" when he hears you, thinking that you went back to doing your "self-loving business", clueless that you were actually groaning in pain because you fell off the bed. But of course, Johnny didn't know that.

A few hours later, you and Johnny are having dinner.

It's quiet at the table, apart from the minor sounds of cutlery against the plates and chewing of food. You and Johnny kept taking glances at each other without the other knowing.

It was so awkward. You don't think you've felt this uncomfortable in your life. You swear you could cut the tension with a knife.

You didn't come out from your room since what happened earlier, too embarrassed to face Johnny, but you needed to at one point. You couldn't just hide in there forever, even though you wanted to. And Johnny cooked dinner today for you both, so how could you say no.

"I didn't know you would come home early..." you murmur as you stare and scrape the food around a little, which perks up Johnny's ears, making him look at you.

"I didn't know either, but my class got cancelled, so I decided just to come back here."

You nod your head slowly in response to him as you continue to munch on your food. Johnny clears his throat before continuing.

"I uh, wanted to see if you wanted to do some studying together, but I guess you were busy doing other…stuff..."

"Oh, I see…." You let out a huge breath you didn't know you were holding before taking a few gulps of water.

"Yeah…" Johnny also nods his head slowly, taking another bite of his food.

Johnny sees your face scrunch up, rubbing your butt a few times as you make your way towards him, where he’s sitting on the couch, watching TV.

“You alright?” Johnny tilted his head to the side a little with scrunched eyebrows.

“I’m fine, I’m okay”, you grumble, sitting next to him on the couch.

You were still feeling extremely embarrassed as to what Johnny witnessed and heard, as well as mentally slapping yourself on how dopey you can be at times. I mean, how often does someone fall off the bed like that?

“Ugh, I think I need a butt massage”, you grumble to yourself again, not thinking that Johnny would hear that.

“I can help you with that”, Johnny says with a smirk on his face, staring at your side profile.

You whip your head to look at him as what he just said throws you off guard. Johnny then winks at you, which leaves you feeling a bit flustered.

You let out a nervous laugh. “Thanks but no thanks.”

“Well, let me know if you need one”, Johnny says as he raises his brows playfully at you.

“Uh-hah… sure, will do,” you say, fiddling with the ends of your shirt. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

You and Johnny turn your attention back to the TV in front of you. Minutes later, Johnny speaks up again.

“What happened to your butt anyway?”

“...I fell off the bed”, you mumble.

Johnny laughs. “Jeez, Y/N, you had a bit too much fun back there, didn’t you?”

“What, no, no! That’s not why!” you whine out. You swear you could feel yourself getting redder and redder.

“Okay, Y/N, whatever you say.”

Silence fills the room once again.

You still felt a bit awkward around Johnny, and you did not like it, not one bit. You thought perhaps having that talk earlier at dinner would help, but it didn’t. Maybe it was just you who’s the one making things awkward. You didn’t know what to do apart from the fact that you just wanted the awkwardness to go away asap.

It was stressing you out, and you didn’t want any more of that due to the assignment you were working on earlier.

You and Johnny sat there while countless thoughts ran through both of your minds.

Your mind is filled with thoughts, thinking back to earlier. You were wondering just how much Johnny had heard. What exactly did he see? How much of it did he see? You mentally slapped yourself for not being a bit more cautious.

On the other hand, Johnny kept replaying the vision of you pleasing yourself. Though it was only for a moment before he quickly went to his bedroom, seeing you like that made him horny. The more he thought about you, lying down on the bed, along with those sinful moans, made him even hornier.

He just couldn't get that image off his mind, not even now. You sitting next to him didn't help with the fact that he, too has, developed a crush on you a few months ago.

Johnny didn't mean to disturb you on purpose. He heard slight whimpers coming from your bedroom and thought you were hurt, so he decided to check to see if you were okay or if you were hurt. It turns out it was the complete opposite.

Johnny could feel himself get hard from his thoughts. He wanted to be the one pleasuring you with his fingers and so much more instead of doing it yourself.

“I didn’t know you had the hots for me,” Johnny says after what seemed like the lengthiest quietness in your entire life.

You scoff. “Who wouldn’t? I mean, have you looked in the mirror?!”

A second later, you close your eyes and groan out in frustration, planting your face on your knees. “God, Y/N, why’d you have to go and embarrass yourself even further?!” you think to yourself.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts by Johnny’s sudden laugh, looking at him confused.

“So… I guess we’re even?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you look at Johnny with even more confusion.

“Don’t you remember what happened a few weeks ago? You caught me in the middle of you know what.”

“Oh yeah…” you say quietly, flashbacks of what happened that day beginning to run through your mind.

“And this time, I caught you in the middle of you know what”, Johnny chuckles.

“More like towards the end, damn it. I was so close!” you grumpily thought to yourself.

There’s a long pause before Johnny speaks up again, and the next thing he says makes your heart beat faster.

“Did you get to finish?” Johnny asks, with a crooked smile on his face. Your eyes widened at his words, and you felt the need to ask him to repeat his question because you thought you heard wrong, but you didn’t. Instead, you just shook your head as a response.

“Me neither”, a smirk is growing on Johnny’s face. “You know, since you never got to finish, maybe I can help you out. I can help you finish what you started if you like?”

You start to look everywhere but at Johnny as he moves closer to you on the couch. You begin to play with your fingers, your breathing getting heavier, your heartbeat getting faster every second Johnny leans closer and closer to you.

"Or, we can both help each other finish what we started", you hear Johnny says with the deepest and most seductive voice you had ever heard him talk in. It made you want to squeal.

"U-um, I-I uh-" stuttering and struggling to think of something to say. You couldn't believe that Johnny was making you a stuttering mess, but then again, that's Johnny Suh for you.

Johnny then began moving a few strands of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You still didn’t have the guts to make eye contact with him. He then raises your face by your chin, making you look at him.

“Can I let you on a little secret?”

You nod, unable to let any words out, feeling starstruck because of him.

At this point, the tip of Johnny’s nose lightly brushes against yours. You gasp from the contact; you thought he would kiss you, but instead, he moves his head to the side. Johnny’s lips brush against your ear several times before placing several delicate kisses just below it, making you whimper slightly. “I have the hots for you too,” Johnny whispers in your ear.

Holy shit, what was he doing to you?! You could feel goosebumps all over, and your heart was flipping in all sorts of direction, not just from what he said but from what he was doing to you. God, he’s so good at making you feel so weak.

At that moment, you thought, “fuck it”.

You were getting horny again, and you wanted to do something about it.

You don’t know where the boldness came from because the next thing you know, you’re forcing Johnny down on the couch by his shoulders and crashing your lips against his. Johnny is surprised by your sudden actions but kisses you back as he finds his hands on your waist.

The kisses get more and more intense. Both of you are seemingly fighting for dominance. As Johnny’s hands linger on your waist, your hand finds its way under his t-shirt, tracing your fingers along his chest, down his body, feeling his toned abs before you slip your hand under his sweatpants, palming him over his boxers.

“Fuck, Y/N”, Johnny moans, grinding his hips to feel more friction.

You take your hand out and quickly strip off your clothes, flinging it over the couch, leaving you in just your underwear.

“Woah, slow down, tiger” Johnny chuckles while you pull his shirt over his head and yank his sweatpants down, also tossing them over the couch.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Johnny”, you moan against his lips as you straddle and grind on him.

“Yes, ma’am,” says Johnny teasingly. He sits up on the couch and stands up suddenly, making you welp a little. You wrap your legs around his waist with your arms around his shoulders. He holds onto you tightly, making sure you don’t fall from his hold as he takes you to his bedroom to finish off what you started.

Well, it seems like that’s one way to deal with all that awkwardness…

But hey, at least you’re not stressed out anymore.

masterlist

#ficscafe #klibrary #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #nct scenarios #nct imagines #johnny suh #nct johnny #johnny smut #nct 127 #nct #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct smut #johnny x reader

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dykefoosh · 3 years

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It's been a year! Transcript: 8/3/21 Here is also a google doc of the transcript if that is easier to read!

*Starts out with happy birthday on a guitar playing*

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthdayyyy to meee, Happy Birthday to me

*Drinks a swig of alcohol*

Ah. Yeah it’s my birthday today, which um seems odd, it doesn't feel like i've been here that long… but I have. Cheers everyone uh. I realise I haven't really done much in a while.

I woke up this morning, rolled out of bed, put out this cake I made three months ago and uh, that's kind of been it, but yeah… I don’t think I’ve left this room in 80 days. About 80 days… How long is 80 days? I- I- that's a lot of months… that's been a long time… Also my vision just went black, I’ve been drinking a lot, um this is that possibly catching up with me um please return vision, I’d really like for it to be back, well I can hear things so at least i'm not deaf ya know? The lord has kept my hearing but I am blind, no um yep there we go.

I decided to get dressed up as well. I figured that would be nice, ya know? I’m pretty sure I was part of them back when I joined, so.. .I don't know if it felt like it made sense to dress up again. Um, fucking hell, I have not cleaned. *sighs* I’ll be honest, in the time I was gone, not very… not very much has happened, uh, it turns out you need customers to support a hotel, and I don’t know about you guys but I haven't seen one on this place for a pretty long while. So uh, basically what I’m saying is… the big jack manifold hasn't been going too hot, god, you don’t provide these guys with food for eighty days and they all go bones and evil.

LEAVE out you bard, you-

The point is, very little has been done here for quite awhile, and um I haven't been outside or seen anyone, and I- I didn't’ finish the pub. Um, you may be asking me, “but jack wasn't that the only thing you were working towards? I know but with the failure of the hotel, I kind of realised that again pubs also rely on customers and the very limited people on this server, as we can all see it really ah um, well it didn’t seem very fruitful. So um, we're kinda just here, living here rent free ever since we claimed this place… I actually don’t know who pays the rent.. Maybe Tommy still does um. I Don't know- anyway since I’ve been here for a year and I haven't really looked around in three months, I thought we would go and look around at everything that we once saw, you know?

I must admit the investment of the alcohol from the pub has been the only thing keeping-.. I shouldn't say that, let's not speak about that part. Yeah it turns out that this place, look I haven't been outside in eighty days and I think maybe since I’ve been here for a year I can go back and have a look around at everything. And um as I said I dressed up for the occasion, so um you know… lets see what's changed hmmm?

Anyway let's walk around shall we? Well this didn’t change, we still got mcpuffys here. Hehe, no one noticed my balls sign hehe, no one noticed, I forgot about this, no one noticed I replaced whatever the original one was with balls in hope they wouldn't notice and they didn't. Ahh that's good, I like that. Anyway, there's the duck and Ponk’s tower that seem pretty much the same.

This looks different, this was a hole.. Who are you? Alright? You know we are the only two people on the server right now? (talking to shroud) This basically means we gotta become friends. So.. tell me about yourself.. Sir? Madam? Shroud, alright. Oh Ohhh I stole some of these! Did I ever give them back? Whoops, oh well. Ahh, it's been quiet without him ya know tommy. I’ll be honest, theres been very little to do, with him gone, um, the fuck did ninjas house go? Why does it look like a very small mcdonalds?

Right, this tower, this seems pretty much the same. Does the sewer still exist? Hm oh wait does it not? What ohh no what happened to the sewers? Aw, there was a whole sewer system out there one time and oh wow. Why is there no longer a sewer there? Wait oH OH it is down here!

One of the first things I remember is me tommy and tubbo and quackity, before he even joined and was still in juvy we, hehe, we did a little heist on everyone and we stole the poo machines and stole everything and then we had a little room, and it was here and we stole the phantom membranes. It was a good time, it was a good time, I liked that and then ah there had only been one war. It's crazy to think there's been more, I thought we’d figure it out the first time, you know? It was fun. And we were called the beatles. Either way yeah.

Why the fuck is half of this place beatroots? Why are half of these beetroots and the other half potatoes? Why is it all farm?? Why? Why is it beats? Wait where did gay target go? Why is there just a beacon here? At least there's huts pizza. Employee of the first two days, of dunderbeatlin… the fuck is dunderbeatlin? What's this? Why are there new things? I know it's been eighty days but why?

This is the L’manburg museum, bearing in mind I'm dressed like this I should go see it.

Oh! It's like different things. This is like the community house, okay that's cool and that's the egg.. This is a replica it won't hurt you… oh it doesn't it won't actually hurt you. I guess they remade that shit. What even happened with that thing? I remember it tried to possess me once and then I bathed in the holy water and I was good again. Oh wow it's like a map of the whole server and there's egg gunk. And then and then and then here.. Where am I? Oh… is that lmanburg? Where is lmanburg? Oh wait oh yeah yeah wait I forgot…. Oh…. yeah….. Um….heh yeah….

OH its the lmanburg walls! I remember tearing them down and rebuilding them a lot and the hotdog van! Does it have the declaration in it? No it doesn't… It is blue. Ohhh…… I joined the day after this (the final control room) God, it's been a whole year since then… What's this? Wait… I feel like there's missing lines here. I don’t know if sorry, you know? Oh, look here, oh it just says i'm sorry. (erets apology book) I’m not all that sure that sorry quite cuts that. What's this? Oh this looks unfinished. Oh here's a map of old lmanburg! OH that's ze house! Before… I burnt it down and decided I wasn't gonna have manifold land anymore.. I miss that, I miss lmanburg.

It was a lot easier to dream when we were friends. Everyone feels so distant now but maybe that's because I haven't seen them, maybe that didn't help I mean no one came to say hi to me. Oh, oh, my main takeaway was that, wait it's not glass anymore, it's like a cavern, it was glass the last time I was there, it's changed since I was here to remember what happened… Why does it look like this? Hmm I don't know. Ah this was my cove, and it was untouched until I burnt it down fuck you.

Oh and theres my secret base that I never finished, FUCK YOU - fuck I hate him, anyway… oh there's the big obsidian bridge, oh isn't this where tommy was exiled? Over this way? I think… That means it was somewhere along here that… wait no it was right here… right? We turned on these stairs, stepped down, and pretty sure it was right here… he dug this.. I don’t think I want to visit this place. I want to go back, this isn't really where I want to be.

Anyway um, I wonder if Snowchester has changed. Lets go visit, okay um, that's weird that's freshly planted. Let's head over to Snowchester its that way. Since when was Tubbos' house back? Didn’t Tommy burnt it down? I swear this got burnt down.. I remember the ruins of it, there was a nether tree farm then in it… anyway…. Let's go check out fundys place. I haven't seen him in FOREVER. The last time I saw him was the last war… the day… the last war… WHY ARE THERE BIG MUSEUM THINGS EVERYWHERE??

Where's fundys house? I built it. I remember building it as a prank and then he liked it and lived in it.. Where's my tower? It was here next to the fox, his little fox hole… my towers were gone, it was definitely here, it was a million percent here and it was right next to it. It was somewhere there was a button it had a button. There was a big sign made out of obsidian…

I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve been pretty purposeless for the past eight days… what the fuck? That's a HOLE. That's a big ass hole! That wasn't always there?! When did a hole show up?? There's a HOLE in my hotel!! I'm trying not to lose my cool and you know when I go the day that I joined, and the first person that greeted me was tommyinnit and still, I wish, I just wish someone logged in and said “hey jack happy one year” and I try to build them a pub and one of these *drinks a swig of alcohol* I mean at least..

Every time….. Everything here and how come it's all the things I care about that get blown up? Lmanburg… Manifold Land- Well I did manifold land but I was pissed off - Everything I care about on this server gets blown up, or destroyed or taken advantage of or.. Betrays me, that happens a lot. I’m not sure if I wanna be here anymore.

I’m not sure if I want to have anything to do with this… maybe that's it. Maybe that's it. What does this place bring? What does this place bring? Ever since I have been part of the “Dream SMP” Things are given to me that are eventually taken or destroyed, friends leave, DEATH, not everyone has died on the server and come back to life admittedly, I have now but the point is, I AM VERY DEFINITE I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS SERVER ANYMORE… Alright? Almost everyone that has promised me something has turned their back. Almost everyone. The last thing anyone said to me was “Ah when las nevadas comes about, we will have a deal jack.. I’ll make it big” Yeahh.. .he really brought a lot of business. How's Las Nevadas doing?? Because when I HEARD it would be done and bring me customers, surely not another person would give me false hope.

Tubbos was the only one I can trust, Tubbo and Niki. I know Niki has become an anarchist or whatever but at least she's happy, and Tubbo was always kind.

I think Las Nevadas is somewhere over here. Let's go look at how “done it is” and how ready for business they are… Looking PRETTY finished for me. Big sign, big building, nice roads. Looking pretty… done. Pretty ready for a business deal. Isn't that a shocker… Isn't it weird yet again that someone promised me something and it fell through again?

So FUCK IT I don’t wana see Snowchester, I dont want to see anything, My WHOLE TIME on this server has been doing things for other people and fighting peoples wars, right? Keeping up hotels and pubs for people to stay, trying to kill people at worst that wasnt me and fighting for them. I haven't done anything for myself. ANYTHING AT ALL. And I said the hotel was for me and look where it got me- in a room for 80 days and a giant bottle of cider I have yet to finish- so fuck it! I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. The “DREAM SMP” I’m gonna go out and start my own thing. I’m gonna call it the “Dream SSP” survival single player because I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. Alright?

The day Tommy died, I said I was done with manifold land because the only thing it ever stood for was trying to get rid of him, and although it was also about getting back at him, it was about other people, but this time, I have something new in mind, something completely different…

NEW Manifold land will not cater to anyone else, not fight for anyone else, to I don’t know be anything for anyone else really. New Manifold land will stick very strictly to the name and persist of purely Jack Manifold, and I might steal Godzilla back from Tubbo (his arctic fox). Because as much as I said Niki was kind and Tubbo was kind, where they been the past 80 days? No one came to the hotel. No one came looking for me to which point, I say I’m gonna find myself my own little place. I’m just gonna live. I’m gonna do what I want, the only thing is, I need to find an area of my own, we need to travel. So let's get moving hmm?

#dsmp transcript #transcript #jack manifold #c!jack #big manifold hotel #c!niki #c!tubbo #c!tommy #dsmp #lmanburg #manifold land

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Note

What about if ghost mike took a liking to you and when you were getting harassed by some guys he "stepped in"?

Oh wow this one really got away from me! There’s something about Mike that makes me just want to hug him and make everything better. Thank you for this ask!

Warnings: Ghosts, potential assault, Mike saving the day. Canon-fix-it ficlet.

From the moment you moved into the tiny apartment you knew it wasn't going to be your forever home. Strange chills would cross over your skin when you would least expect it, the seemingly nice neighbourhood was far from it with regular arguments and fights breaking out between tenants or people just out on the street, and it got to the point where you didn't leave the apartment at night for what crept unknown in the hallways.

Your thesis was almost done, your final year of your Doctorate on religious texts and the only merit of not leaving the apartment in the evenings meant extra time to study and complete your work. You sat at your desk typing furiously, on a roll with your thoughts and your work when a sudden chill ran up your forearm giving you goosebumps;

"Fuck" you cursed, screwing your eyes shut as you tried to will the train of thought back to your mind, but to no avail. Finally with a sigh you pushed your chair back and stood, deciding to make yourself a hot cocoa.

Warming the milk in a pan on the stove you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your body as you stared out of the window that overlooked the street, before something moved in the periphery of your vision. A young man bending over your laptop, his lips moving as he silently read what you had written. In shock you gasped and turned, but to an empty apartment. Shaking your head you laughed to yourself; you had spent so long writing about spirits you were now seeing them.

Going back to your stove you finished making your drink before returning to your computer, working late into the night now you were re-energised in your mind.

Your Professor had been very complimentary of your latest work, and how you had led the Freshman and Sophomore students in theological discussions about spirits and souls, almost as if you had a new understanding of them.

Continuing to work on your thesis you spent long nights and quiet weekends busy at your computer, but reminded yourself to take a break now and again. One such evening the words hadn't come, so abandoning the screen you’d lit some candles, poured yourself a glass of wine and had curled up on the couch beneath a blanket to read. You were deep in the world of your book when you were aware of your computer screen coming to life, the screensaver ending and your unfinished work on screen. As you looked up you saw him, this time sitting sideways to the desk on your chair where you’d left it.

He was young, no more than 25, and dressed a little outdated in baggy jeans, hoodie, and a leather jacket, his dark hair curly and trying its best to hang in the mid 2000’s style of curtains. A fear shot through your body, rooting you to the spot and you held your breath; watching waiting… but he continued to read, biting his lip as if deep in thought; he had no idea you’d noticed him. The longer you looked the more real he seemed, no longer transparent but the colours of the apparition deepening.

“I can see you, you know” your voice was quiet yet it startled him, he turned in fright and disappeared right before your eyes.

Crossing the room you pressed your hand to the chair, stilling it as it span slightly before sitting down, your writer's block now long gone. Your thesis was certainly getting jump started again thanks to your spectral visitor.

A week later it was a quiet weekend, no saturday classes, no additional work needed on your thesis until the last few books you’d requested from the campus library were returned. Snow fell outside your window and you stayed curled up in bed, dozing in the quiet morning.

As the pipes in the building bubbled you finally woke properly, and you saw him, standing in the doorway.

“Don’t be scared” you said quietly, watching as he quietly laughed before raking his hand through his curls;

“Shouldn’t i be saying that to you?”

His voice was quiet, but deeper than you imagined.

“Do you know why you are here?”

He shook his head.

“Are you drawn to something? Did you die here?”

Again he shook his head;

“I can’t remember”

“What do you remember?”

“That my name is Mike” he looked down, almost bashfully; “You realise one tit is hanging out of your top?”

Glancing down you saw your cami had shifted in your sleep and you were now showing far more than you realised, letting out a laugh as you adjusted yourself, but when you looked up he was gone.

Calling out you smiled;

“Thanks for the tip… or should i say tit?”

You heard what could only be described as a chuckle, but he didn’t reappear.

Over the following days and weeks, Mike would appear occasionally. Once when you were reaching for something on a high shelf you’d turned to get a box to stand on only to discover the packet on the countertop and him standing next to it with a smile on his face before disappearing again. You became at ease with his presence, your skin chilling as you recognised the signs that he had appeared in the room. He still didn’t talk much but you’d managed to get a few lines of conversation out of him. It almost felt like having a presence to welcome you home, not a pet, but a silent roommate that didn’t bother you because you’d work different shifts.

After one particularly long day on campus, staying late after class to help the Sophomores with their midterms, having to stop for groceries on the way home, it was well past dark before your bus had pulled up outside your apartment building. Juggling your groceries, your backpack, and your keys, you stopped at your mailbox as you could see mail jammed into it, cursing as your cold fingers struggled to work with the tiny key when you heard a cough behind you. Glancing over your shoulder you saw the tall burly figure of a man, and you stepped closer to the mailbox;

“Sorry, won’t be a moment”

“Don’t you worry sweetheart, we can wait…”

You stopped, the fear bubbling up in your throat as you turned and saw that he wasn’t alone, two other men now standing behind him;

“A nice little treat to be found out after dark…”

You turned your back to the mailboxes, pulling close to them as you backed away and the three men started to advance like a pack of wolves, when suddenly another figure appeared in the doorway;

“Mike!” you called out, and the three men turned in surprise.

“Oh, your little boyfriend appears just in time? Don’t you worry about him, he can just watch”

It was then that you heard Mike’s voice, strong and loud in the small hallway;

“Babe, shut your eyes and don’t open them until i say so, ok?” he paused and looked directly at you; “Ok?”

You nodded and screwed your eyes shut, trembling as you hear the three men start towards Mike, but then you could hear them stop;

“What the fuck?”

“HOLY SHIT!”

“RUN, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”

A strange gurgling noise came from the end of the hallway and you felt the rush of air as the three men pushed past you. Opening your eyes you gasped when you saw Mike.

“I said don’t open your eyes!”

“Stop” His voice gurgled as he spoke.

You stepped towards him, the sight almost unbearable but now you understood;

“I can see what happened to you…” you paused; “And i’m not running away”

Stepping in the door of your apartment you juggled the bags and held the door for Mike, before you smiled;

“Do i even need to hold this open for you, or could you just walk straight through it?”

He glanced at you and rolled his eyes, not saying anything.

“I would offer you to get cleaned up, but i have no idea how to clean a ghost up”

You set the groceries on the counter and turned, surprised to see Mike standing close to you, his injuries gone and his face and stomach back to normal;

“Oh!”

“I guess you just had to look away and i reset somehow” he muttered, his body sagging as if exhausted.

“This may sound strange, but do you need to rest? I would imagine what you did took a lot of energy…”

“I don’t like to sleep… the memories come back when i do…”

“Why don’t i rest with you?”

Reaching out you managed to grasp his hand, gently leading him to your bedroom and watching as he lay back against the soft covers, a tired smile on his face as he watched you climb in beside him;

“When i was alive it was never this easy to get a girl into bed with me” he murmured, his eyes drooping.

“Just rest Mike, i’ll be right beside you… i’ll protect you the same way you protected me”

Leaning forwards you brushed your lips to his, and it felt like wet sand pulling away from you as the tide pulled back to sea. Resting your head on the pillow you felt your own eyes grow heavy, and as you watched Mike fall asleep the same happened to you.

Rain hit the window as you slowly woke, the unfamiliar feeling of a warm presence beside you in bed startling you as you sat bolt upright, looking on in shock as Mike slept peacefully beside you. His chest would rise and fall with each breath, and with a shaking hand you reached out and rested your palm against him and could feel the warmth of his body. Eyes wide in wonder you reached to his neck, pressing two fingers to the side and you felt the steady and strong beat of his heart.

He woke with a gasp, inhaling as if he had been winded and sat up, his eyes wide as he grasped your hand in his own;

“How are you touching me?”

“Y-you’re real” He looked down, watching as your hand pressed against his chest; “and you’re alive”

You leapt at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you straddled his lap, laughing with tears of joy starting to spill down your cheeks before finally pulling back, your mouths so close you could feel the others breath hot on your skin.

“When i was alive… i mean before… i was an ass”

You shrugged;

“Most dudes in their 20’s are”

“And i thought i was god’s gift to women too, but was far from it”

“How about we leave the opinions of gods to the one of us that is the Theological major? As whatever happened here, we have someone to thank and it certainly isn’t Earth bound”

He smiled, and for the first time you noticed that in the blue of his eyes there was a tiny spec of brown. His voice was quiet;

“Can I kiss you?”

Nodding you edged forwards, the touch of his lips this time was soft and warm, and as the kiss deepened the two of you slowly fell back onto the bed, your bodies warm against each others as clothing was shed and bodies were explored.

Mike had a lot to catch up on, twenty years after life had ended for him you were now there to help him start it back up again.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #mike hellraiser #mike x reader #canon fix it fic

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enochianribs · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 of the Cabin AU is up now!

Read on Ao3 here, or under the cut.

(Reblogs appreciated!)

The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered. The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered.

“Mmm...great.” Another item on his to-do list.

Dean was willing to bet there were more leaks in the living room.

For a moment he debated allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep. It was all too easy to slip back to that dream again: blurry hands, soft mouths, quiet murmurs, everything he missed and everything he’d never had. Not really.

Rain gently pattered against the outside of the cabin, the storm grinding in from the East and then settling its haunches right over the hills to stay for the night. The sun was rising, and the pink sky cast shadows from the drops on the window pane, little spots phantom dripping down his sheets.

It was the first morning since he’d gotten to the cabin that he’d slept in past sunrise. Sluggishly, he sat up, diggin the heel of his hand into his eyes as a yawn fought its way out of his chest. He turned his head, and reached out with a hand to wake his companion, before reality caught up with him and his hand fell to the mattress, going through the ghost.

That’s right , he thought. His mouth tasted like ash.

If he laid there any longer his chest would become heavy, and his breaths ragged, so he tossed the covers off, and trudged over to the shower. The cold water bit through the fog better than anything else could, and he leaned his temple against the glass door waiting for it to heat up and fill the room with steam.

Normally, he’d air dry, but it was chilly and an urgency hung around him. He grabbed the bleach-spotted towel hanging sadly by the door towelled off quickly.

He wandered idly, picking his daily morning tasks up and dropping them before he’d complete them. Something pulled him around the house. He was forgetting something.

Dean was midway through folding the quilt and draping it on the sofa arm when they caught his eye.

Two large feathers sat in the middle of the massive dining table (he still wondered who had built and what they’d been thinking— the thing could seat the knights of the round table if necessary). Tugging the fridge door with one hand he reached blindly for the pot of coffee he kept iced, and nudged it closed with his knee, never taking his eyes off them.

They were captivating. He continued to stare as he poured himself a cup, spilling some of the coffee onto the counter. He’d forget to clean it up, and it would stain, but that was okay. If they asked, he was experimenting with wood staining.

Dean could examine them once he made himself some kind of breakfast. Those were the rules: remember to feed yourself, and then you can do whatever you want to with your day. Breakfast ended up being toast and jam, and he plopped it down at the end seat of the table, and reached for the feathers before he took a bite.

The color on the first one was so dark it looked heavy, but it was as light in his hand as any feather should be. He held it up and squinted, twisting his wrist back and forth. It caught the light and reflected a shimmering oil slick back at him. The colors shifted, hues iridescent.

At first glance it could be a raven’s, but it was at least four times bigger than that.

The second one was more muted, the black towards the base of it dappled into a brown and white, and it was downy soft where the other was sharp and precise. Yesterday he’d thought it was grey but better light proved that it was a grey-brown.

He’d assumed that it was from the same bird— creature , but now he wasn’t so sure. Dean didn’t know the first thing about birds. However, he knew several people who did.

▵▿▵

“Hey, Bobby. Can I talk to Rufus?”

“He’s kinda in the middle of some’in’, Dean.” The roll of his eyes was audible, as someone yelped in the muffled background. “Can I call you back?”

“Please?” Dean asked, grinning cheekily even though he wasn’t there to warm Bobby over in person.

Bobby made a disgruntled noise and paused, before sighing. “You’re doing the face aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. You never want to talk to me .”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Hm.” Bobby replied. Out of spite, he kept the phone next to his face as he shouted for his attention. “Rufus! It’s Dean.”

Ouch , Dean mouthed wincing at the volume, as he listened to the sound of two old men grumbling at each other before fabric shifted, and Rufus picked up the phone.

“He lives.”

A smile burst its way through Dean’s concentration. “Hey Ruf, gotta question for you.”

“Coulda called us sooner. We were beginning to wonder if you’d sold the cabin and moved somewhere warmer with pink flamingos.”

The image made Dean snort. Him at the beach? Unlikely.

“Nope.” Dean quipped. “Still here and freezing my ass off. You guys ever think about installing a damn heater?”

“And pay that bill? Hell no. We added a fireplace, what more do you want from us.”

Good ol’ crabby Rufus. “What do you know about birds?”

“A lot.” As per usual, he was being obtuse.

“Know of any big enough to leave behind two foot feathers?”

Rufus whistled. “Not in North America, unless you’ve got ostriches running around.”

“That’d be a negatory. So there’s nothing you can think of?”

“Nope. Did you find something, kid?”

“Holding one right now.”

“No shit.” He could hear the bewildered tone of his voice over the shitty connection. “Well, I guess keep an eye out. It’d be real hard for something that big to hide, and even harder for it to sit comfortable in those pine trees with the branches so dense. I’d say you’re about to make the biggest zoological discovery in North America in the past century. Keep us posted?”

“Will do.” Dean said, and he heard Rufus handing the phone back over to Bobby.

“Hope everything’s okay up there, Dean.”

“Everything’s peachy, honestly. Anyways—” He checked the clock on the stove. 8:30. The hardware store would be open in a half hour. “I’ve got some errands to run, so I’ll leave you to whatever it is a couple of old farts do in retirement.”

“Hey—”

Dean grinned to himself. “See ya, Bobby.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

The line went silent, and Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket, bobbing his head to the side in thought. Though he didn’t get a definitive answer, at least the call had eliminated the options of native fauna.

▵▿▵

At nine in the morning, Dean was usually one of a small line of people waiting outside Lafitte’s Goods to needle Benny’s brain for fixes and tools of the trade. Pamela was waiting against the brick wall, hand shielding the summer morning sun from her eyes, reading a 99 cent paper back with interest.

“Hey, Pamela.”

“Dean-o. Call me Pammy.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. But Pam works. I’m not your mother.”

“You call your mom by her first name?”

“Fair point. What’re you here for?” She nodded her head and bounced off the wall, as Benny unlocked the doors. A couple of grizzled old men shuffled in ahead of them, beelining it for the plywood.

Porch season.

“Roof’s got a leak.”

“Leak season.”

“Apparently. This is the third one since I got here.”

She squinted at him, like he was omitting something important, and popped the bubble of gum in her mouth. Dean started to itch under her scrutiny. He hated being studied like a lab rat.

What was the woman? A witch? Why was she peeling back layers of his get-up without warning.

Dean coughed, and used Benny’s presence as an excuse to wiggle out from under her gaze. “Gotta— yeah, see you.” Turning on his heel he fled towards the adhesives, face contorting with embarrassment.

Holy fuck, somehow he’d gotten even more awkward.

Dear god, help me.

Benny never pried unless Dean seemed interested in offering up information, and for that Dean was actually incredibly grateful. Most days he didn’t want to talk about anything, certainly not his past, but Benny and his bushy beard and warm eyes had managed to wiggle through his walls, just a little.

“Benny.”

Benny stared at him from behind the register, inquisitive expression considerably easier to cope with than Barnes' hungry expression. A friendly smile danced across his face as he assessed Dean’s no-doubt rosey cheeks.

“She’s got her claws in you, huh.”

Dean ducked his head, glancing sideways at the brunette woman still looking at the different kinds of rope. A tramp stamp peeked out from under the bottom edge of her tank top. Dean tapped his fingers on the pock-marked wood counter and turned his attention back to his friend. “Is she always like that?”

“Sure is,” Benny drawled, ringing up everything Dean had haphazardly shoved onto the counter in his escape. “You just happen to be the newest, prettiest , plaything in Pringle.” The burly man winked.

Pink crawled up Dean’s neck from his collarbones and spread into his cheeks once again. Christ, there was no escape from these people. Still stammering, Dean practically ran back to the Impala.

▵▿▵

The phone vibrated in his back pocket. By the third ring, Dean had parked Baby in her usual spot, and he struggled to tug it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID.

California.

He pumped the window down, the air getting warm inside the car, and he flipped the phone open, inhaling sharply. He should have called before now. Shouldn’t have let so much time pass. In the fall, he’d be too busy to take any of Dean’s calls anyways.

“Hello?”

“Dean?”

“Sammy.”

Several seconds of too-long silence passed between them.

“Where have you been?”

Dean swallowed, thick, guilt permeating the small space.

“Sorry, I just—” He didn’t have an excuse. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You still could’ve picked up the phone. I tried to call you about six times. You don’t always need to have something to say, y’know… It just would’ve been nice to know you’re still breathing.” His brother’s voice was basically a whisper at the end.

“I know.” Dean closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing shakily. “I know.”

“I had to hear it from Bobby. Dean—” Sam’s voice pitched up to that octave it always did when he was upset. “Dad’s gone again.”

Fuck.

“And that’s fine. It’s not like I’m ten and incapable of caring for myself but I thought— I thought he’d be back by now. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Shit, Sammy.”

“I think he’s fine. He sent a vague text a couple of days ago, it’s just with school starting in two months I get worried. Not even for him, just for us. I can’t pay for school myself, and I can’t afford to miss anything because of Dad. If my grades drop, I’m out.”

“I know.” God, Dean knew.

Sam was a late bloomer for college. The kid was brilliant, but he’d been dealt a bad hand, and it was a miracle Rufus and Bobby had invested in a saving fund for the two of them decades ago. At twenty-two, Dean knew that he’d already had trouble securing the scholarships. Stanford wanted the best and brightest, not the kid with seven schools on his high school transcript and an overabundance of unexcused absences.

The guilt piled up and perched itself on his shoulders until he sagged into his seat under the heaviness. It was his job to keep John out of trouble, not Sammy’s. And instead he’d run away from that responsibility.

The repair materials sat in the backseat, and his heart twisted in his chest. The meadow sat peacefully in the late afternoon sun, just across the short distance of woods, and it still kept its secret. He didn’t want to go back. Not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of independence.

“Look,” He could kick himself for how his voice cracked. “If John doesn’t turn up by the end of the week, I’ll come back. I’ll help. Promise.”

For what it was worth, a facet of his brother’s relieved sigh sounded apologetic.“Thank you, Dean. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Okay then.”

“Bye.”

“Talk to you soon, Sammy.” Dean’s jaw clenched involuntarily, as he flipped the phone closed and tossed it against the passenger door. His frustrated shout echoed between him and the trees, but he didn’t feel better.

Always this .

Historically, John would do something stupid and irresponsible and Dean would drop everythign to clean up the mess and no one would thank him. Not really. That was fine.

Family was supposed to break your heart.

▵▿▵

The leak proved to be an easy fix.

Dean fought the attic door that led to the roof, following the small staircase up until he was on the balls of his feet, head sticking out as he pulled himself onto it. The shingles were rough, cracked and damaged from the winters, and he scrapped the length of his arm against it.

The source of the leak took only a minute to find. Five or so shingles were missing, leaving nothing but the wood underneath, which did nothing but absorb any and all precipitation. The rubber sealant smelled terrible, and he gagged dramatically, almost dropping the metal can in the process. Done applying, he plopped his ass down, determined to see it dry properly before he went back inside.

Half assing things had always resulted in a stern talking to in the least, and it had been something he’d struggled with growing up, his mind yanking him a thousand directions until his head was spinning and John was disappointed.

Dean grit his teeth, purposefully dragging the raw scrape against the rough roofing, the burn biting through the thought, bringing him back down from that far off place he so frequently wandered to. He didn’t even know how he got there, but he found himself lost, shrunk down, smaller than the hand-me-down leather jacket he tried to fill.

From the roof he could see almost everything. It turned out that Rufus and Bobby’s cabin foundation was built onto a gentle slope.

The rain clouds had dissipated, migrating to the flat plains further south, and it left a crisp atmosphere behind. The sun poked through the remaining gargantuan cumulonimbus clouds, sunbeams gently caressing the grass. Grey mist rose from where the creek beds greedily absorbed the heat. It reminded him of the paintings of cowboys, sitting on a stallion, bathed in golden light, their backs to the audience, all the edges illuminated and throwing everything else into stark purple shadows.

The burn of the scrape subsided as a sense of peace settled Dean, his body melting into the shingles. An hour passed before his stomach growled, and he climbed back down for lunch.

▵▿▵

Tapping.

Tapping at the window pane only inches from his face.

Groggy and only slightly encrusted (gross) Dean opened his eyes and was met by dark blue ones, a tawny human hand pressed up against the glass.

Dean’s soul evaporated out of his body, back pressed to the headboard as he scrabbled for the small knife he kept under his pillow. Before he could look again, it was gone.He launched himself out of bed, so very entirely grateful that he’d had enough sense to go to sleep in his boxers and his worn-out threadbare Kansas shirt.

Holy hell.

Fingers trembling, he opened the window, leaning almost all the way out, hovering a few feet above the ground.A single feather slowly came to rest soundlessly on the pine-needle carpet. The view from the window remained unyieldingly motionless.

Black-eyed susans had begun to sprout in the shade, despite themselves, and now they quivered where they grew between the pine-roots even though the morning wind had not pierced through the woods yet.

Craning his neck, he glanced up, half expecting the last thing he’d ever see to be a terrifying bird man staring down at him like he was lunch. Nothing.

Dean practically fell out of his room, chanting under his breath in a poor attempt to calm himself down as he stumbled down the short hall to the living room.

It’s human.

“No,” Dean spoke to the picture frames on the walls. He had no idea what he was denying, but the situation begged to be denied. He paced back and forth in the living room, no doubt wearing the floor down despite the fact that he was wearing socks— the ones with the holes in the heel. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Oh my God, it was so very not okay.

Suddenly, the couch seemed like the perfect place to suffocate himself to unconsciousness. Someone else could deal with this.

No , he thought. You wanted this to happen, you dirty liar. Stop panicking and deal with it.

Wings was human- or at least partially human. He looked like a man. Dean’s thin eyelids fluttered closed, and the image was painted on the backside of them with crystal clarity. Square jawline, arrow-straight nose, curiously arched eyebrows… and the eyes . They were so blue. And they had been looking right at him. Watching him.

It was entirely ridiculous that his eyes overshadowed the massive lurking darkness behind him, of what had to have been his wings.

A human with wings.

This was crazy. Everything was crazy.

The way he saw it, there were two directions this could go: he could pretend he hadn’t seen anything, and this would be tucked away into the delusion box that he kept under lock and key at the back of his mind and he could grow old being none the wiser of whatever breach of reality this was, or he could go find it.

The first option was sounding real nice. Normal. Well adjusted.

He was well adjusted.

Besides, Dean wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream. this entire thing was a fever dream and he was in some hospital bed back in Lawrence, stuck in a coma. Dean pinched himself, viciously and stared at the white marks left on his forearm, helpless.

Nope.

“Okay.” He barked out a laugh.

He should call Jo.

After a few more minutes of pacing and hyperventilating, he decided against it. He would tell her— of course he would! —but when it came up.

The Harvelle’s were good people and they’d shown him nothing but kindness.

The situation had to be broached with care, or the small home he’d built in the life he wanted to live would topple in on itself, and the rubble and dust would drown him.

Trust issues were a problem of his, and he’d been aware of them since high school, when he’d had too many secrets to keep and any semblance of a support system was states away.

God, he knew the way he clammed up was obvious, but sometimes he surprised even himself. If he was being honest, there was a lot more to it than a strong need for privacy. Didn’t matter though. In the end, after all the nit-picking and self beratement, it boiled down to fear.

Jo could keep her mouth closed, but there was always a chance she’d accidentally tell someone, and there was a high chance it would be the wrong person. If he let it slip that this thing existed, who knew what would come packing. And he knew sooner or later, someone would bring the heat. Words got around easily in a small town like Pringle and he knew everyone would be at his door, wanting a chance to see the freak of the week.

Which… was a thing that existed. A human with wings, that called the small clearing his home.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He felt protective over the man, almost ferociously so.

The day’s hunting trip wasn’t happening— now Dean was paranoid.

What if he accidently shot him? Or scared him off permanently?

His stomach churned, acid and bile climbing their way up his throat. The burn was familiar. Half his childhood had been spent subsiding panic attacks and anxiety, calming down Dad or Sam or both at the same time.

▵▿▵

The tin echo of a gunshot managed to penetrate through the thick log walls of the cabin.In a heartbeat, he was scrambling for the ancient shotgun. The front door swung open, the little voice in his head told him to close it behind him, but his feet carried him quicker than his mind and so he left it swinging on its hinges at his back.

An anguished scream gargled its way from somewhere deeper into the woods, due south of the cabin. Rocks dashed the soles of Dean’s feat and he swore out loud, having forgotten his boots at the door.

Shit shit shit.

Someone was nearby, and they were ballsy enough to fire a weapon despite the illegality of hunting on private property. His mind raced at the same speed he ran towards it, a limp skewing his gate every few steps. Stray branches caught the sleeves of his shirt, tearing through the fabric as he refused to slow down.

It’s just a deer.

He knew better.

They’re just after a deer, or a bison that wandered away from the heard or an elk or something—

Another blood curdling scream erupted from amongst the pine, this one loud enough to rattle the crows out of their nests. They cawed, the sound of dozens of pairs of wings taking flight muting the pained groans.

He knew better.

Please— please. Not Wings.

He faltered over a boulder, panic overtaking muscle memory and skidded to a halt at the crest of a ledge. The scene below knocked the breath out of his chest, leaving a vacuum in its wake.

Campbell, one of the more elderly hunters of the area was standing over another tawny body. Giant black wings sprawled out, twisting and twitching in the dirt and mud, feathers slightly splayed underneath his back.

Campbell’s face distorted in pain, a tense moment passing before his wild eyes landed on Dean, the whites of his too visible, even from ten yards away. Blood pumped out from a wound on his neck, and he had a hand clamped down onto it, slick with red, he held a shotgun limply in his left hand, the butt of it dropped heavily to the ground.

Semi-satisfied that Campbell didn’t seem interested in shooting again, Dean fixated every ounce of attention on Wings and his breath hitched. Smeared across his mouth and chin was a copious amount of blood. He’d bitten Campbell. Dean’s heart swelled with pride.

Good .

His short encounter with Campbell prior had proved that the man was a bag of dicks, cocky and far too keen on the killing aspect of hunting. It skeeved Dean out then, and it certainly did now. Campbell was still looking at Wings like he was prey. Though no component of the scene begged to differ: the man was naked, teeth bared, but he was incapable of escaping, the gunshot wound in his abdomen bleeding him dry.

Dean leveled the end of his shotgun at Campbell’s head. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Campbell backed away from Wings, the muscles in his right arm tensed, like he wanted to put it up defensively, but it was necessary he kept pressure on the wound. It looked like Wings had gone for the jugular. “It attacked me, Winchester.”

“And?”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Dean would put money on the fact that he looked the part, he could feel his chest heaving, something akin to dull rage pumping through his veins. He prayed the tremor in his hand didn’t betray his hesitation. “I said move .”

Obeying his orders, Campbell stepped back, never taking his eyes off of the strange man. Agony flashed across his face where he laid in the dirt.In his hands, he held a silver blade. Wings looked from Campbell to Dean, expression visibly softening.

“Give me your coat.” Dean didn’t have much time, glancing at Wings, he saw that a red gleam of blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth and his eyes moved frantically. He slid down the slope and went to take off his jacket and remembered his was only in his boxers. “ NOW .”

Campbell shirked it off and threw it at Dean, staying exactly where he was. Moving quickly, Dean pressed the thick fabric to the wound, moving his other hand to the back side to see where the bullet went. There was no opening there, and he was thankful that Wings was naked. He could skip the sometimes detrimental process of removing his clothes to assess the wound better.

He tied the jacket around him and slid one arm under his legs and the other across his shoulder blades, lifting him up carefully. Dean had to get him back to his house immediately, before Wings lost too much blood.

One last time, he regarded Campbell. He felt the sneer tug his lip up, his voice like acid trying to eat through the other man’s bones until he was nothing. “Get the fuck off my property. And don’t tell anyone about this. He’ll be fine, not that you care. But you won’t be if I see you here again, or if I hear about this from anyone. Do I make myself clear?”

Samuel’s eyes darkened clearly at war with Dean’s threat, but his skin was taking on a pallor akin to lethal blood loss. He nodded curtly, acknowledging the agreement, at least for the moment.

Reasonably satisfied that Campbell wouldn’t shoot them in the back, Dean turned and left, the body draped over his shoulder too warm.Dean’s hand wrapped around, hand feathering over his taut side, avoiding the wound. He could feel his fingers wet with blood.

Wings was whispering something feverishly, though Dean couldn’t catch a word of it, his eyes glazed over with pain, searching the sky for something with a fervor of a religious man with hell hounds on his heels.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean murmured, straining to carry the both of them the distance to the cabin. “I’ve got you.”

Wing’s head lolled to the side, and his body went slack. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but Dean couldn’t afford to cry now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to get them inside safely. He swallowed the terror. He ducked and wove through the undergrowth, fearing that the drooping wings would catch on a branch or boulder.

The time it took until he could lay Wings down on his dining room table felt like hell had manifested on Earth, keenly able to feel life slipping away in his arms.

Once Dean managed to put Wings on the table without his head smacking the wood, he tore the kitchen apart for salt and a bowl of water and some clean washcloths, and sprinted to the bathroom, yanking the drawers out and emptying their contents onto the counter and sink until his eyes landed on the tweezers and isopropyl alcohol.

It wasn’t a perfect med kit, but there was no other choice. It had to do.

Dean approached the table cautiously, worried that too much movement would set him off. The dark wingspan spread out almost three feet on either side of the table and Dean swallowed a stone.

He had no idea what to do next, not really. The closest experience he’d had to being a doctor had been treating John’s stab wound when he was thirteen and John had come home more beaten than usual.

He stared helplessly down at Wings.

“He...help.” Wings voice was like a ghost’s, he barely heard it, and he was standing right next to him. He looked up at the cobwebbed chandelier lighting like it was something holy and mesmerizing and Dean realized he was losing him.

“Shhh… it’s okay.” His forehead was sticky with sweat and drying blood, and Dean pushed some of the unruly black wisps from his eyes, humming low. “I’m gonna help you.”

Wings hand shook, following the edge of the table, feverishly searching for something to hold onto. Tentatively, Dean slid his fingers between his, feeling his calloused palm against his own. “Wings. Wings, you gotta listen to me. Wings, please . You have to lay still.”

He had no idea if the man understood a single word he was saying, but it seemed to do the trick. Over the span of a terrible minute, his breathing slowed down, and his grip on Dean’s hand went from frail to almost bone crushingly alive.

Wings’ blue eyes were on him, flickering a little in the low light. Dean waited, untrained, unable and unwilling to play operation on him while he was still conscious, eyes desperate to look at anything but the daunting task before him.

Eventually, he passed out, his painful grimace replaced by a soft one, and Dean began to remove the shrapnel bullet, praying to anyone who was listening that it had not shredded his insides beyond repair.

▵▿▵

At some point in the night, Dean had gotten up to draw the curtains and lock the door, willing to sacrifice only a moment to seal them away from the rest of the world.

Now, sunlight pierced through the cracks, illuminating them both in thin lines of white light. He watched Wings toss and turn, his face gnarling into pain each time he moved.

What if Dean had fucked it up? What if the next breath he drew was his last? His mind raced, punishing him for every moment’s hesitation that could very well lead to his death.

Dean caught himself following Wings jawline, examining the stark contours of his face like he would never see them again. Please, just please make it out alive.

“Don’t die on me, Wings.” The words slipped out subconsciously. “Please, God, don’t die on me.”

Dean had the decency to cover him up with the quilt. The two’s hands were still tightly entwined long after the heartbeat in Wing’s wrist lulled Dean into sleep, tumbling heart over head.

#honestly i think i'm gonna reverse the title #I HATE TITLES what kinda corny ass things i come up with lmao #but for now.#that's what its called #cabin au #*#mine

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harper-hook · 4 years

Text

Exploration | Harry Hook x Reader

Prompt: # 90 “That’s hot.” “It is?” “Yeah, makes me wonder...” “Wonder what?” “What else you’re hiding.” #95 “Can I kiss you now?”

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Author’s Note: This story would’ve been out a long time ago if it hadn’t gotten deleted twice. WTF Tumblr?!

It was a slow night at Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop. You drummed your fingers on the table, scanning the room out of habit. A few members of the crew were playing cards at some side tables and some were in the middle of the floor, wrestling and carrying on.

The chair next to you scraped the floor and Uma plopped down. “This is so fucking boring.” She complained, resting her head in the palm of her hand. “You got that right.” You scanned the room again, stopping on the wrestle match in the middle.

It was Harry and Gil in the ring, all sweaty and panting. You smiled when Harry looked up and made brief eye contact. He grinned and finally muscled Gil out of the ring. You laughed and clapped as the rest of the crew raised up, cheering. Harry’s next victim joined him in the ring and you turned your attention back to Uma.

You really didn’t like the look she was giving you. “So,” She started. “Are you guys gonna hook up or what?” Your mouth fell open, spluttering for a response. “Cause if you need help, I’ll gladly help.” She smirked, looking a bit too pleased with herself.

“Uma!” You hissed, motioning for her to keep her voice down. She just cackled in response. Harry loved to embarrass you by being overdramatic and flirting with you in front of the entire crew. At first, it bothered you but now you really looked forward to it. A little too forward to it.

“Just tell him you’ve got nipple piercings and he’ll jump you.” She snickered. “Oh my God, will you shut up?” You groaned, banging your head on the table. It had been a good idea at the time but trying to keep them from getting infected without proper medicine that the Isle lacked? Not so good.

“Hi Uma. (Y/N).” Gil greeted, sitting down on the other side of you. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned. “Nothing, Gil. She’s just moody.” Uma giggled. You rolled your eyes, picking your head up. “Moody about her nipples?” Gil asked, confused now.

You inhaled a sharp breath, whipping your head to face him. “How did you know that?!” You snapped, clenching your fists. “I was standing right behind you guys.” He replied cheerfully. You willed yourself not to get pissed, it was Gil for fuck’s sake. Barely an evil bone in his body.

“What else did you hear?” You asked through gritted teeth, proud that you kept your calm tone. “Nothing else.” He shrugged. You were immediately relieved. Gil was Harry’s best friend and if Gil found out, Harry would know before the hour was up.

You turned back to Uma who had the decency to look a bit guilty. “My bad.” She laughed.

“‘Ey.” Wow, fate just really loved testing you. “What’s up with ye lot?” Harry swaggered up, all sweaty from being in the ring. “Nothing.” The three of you chorused. Harry’s eyes narrowed before he sat on top of the table, eventually strewing himself out in front of you.

“Heard you squawkin’ a fit over here, luv. Made me lose my match.” Harry hummed. You flushed, not realizing how loud you were. “So what were ya talking about?” He addressed the three of you. “Nothing.” “Nothing.” “(Y/N)’s nipple rings.” Gil announced through a mouthful of food.

You let out an embarrassed shriek as Uma shouted at Gil, making Harry roar with laughter. You covered your face with your hands as Uma snapped at Gil to get out and Harry was wheezing with laughter.

“Really, luv?” Harry asked, pulling your hands away. “Stop.” You whined, pulling your hands away. “It must be true. Yer red like a tomato.” He snickered. You growled and shoved Harry off the table, him landing on the floor with an ‘oomph!’.

You practically pushed your chair over as you stormed out of the Shoppe, Uma yelling for you to come back. You ignored her and Gil’s attempt at apologizing while you were still pissed, and made your way back to the ship.

---

You dropped your shoes and coat on the floor by the door, done with this night. You just wanted to crawl into bed and die.

You had just gotten comfortable and shut your eyes when your door slammed open, making you practically jump out of your skin. You shot up and faced Harry who was standing in your doorway like it was a normal everyday thing.

“Get out.” You frowned, crossing your arms. Harry snorted. “Not a chance, sweetheart. We got some unfinished business.” It was clear what he meant, if his eyes flickering down to your chest didn’t tell you.

Harry took his sweet time, throwing his jacket on top of yours and walking over to you. You swallowed your nerves as you looked up at him. “Can I kiss you now?” He asked roughly. “Yes...” You whispered as Harry tilted your chin up and pressed his lips to yours.

He moved slowly against your lips at first, getting faster as the need for air grew. Finally, he pulled away, sucking on your bottom lip. He smiled at you. “Holy shit...” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. He chuckled, gently pushing on your shoulders.

You rested on your elbows as Harry crawled on top of you, his knee brushing between your legs, making your breath catch. He grinned maliciously, ‘accidentally’ doing it again.

Harry dipped his head down, kissing on your collarbone. You threw your head back in a moan, your hands reaching for his blindly. You pulled his hands to the bottom of your shirt, helping drag the bottom of your shirt up.

Harry grinned, you returning it albeit a bit nervous. You raised up to help him with your shirt. The cool air made your nipple harden even further. “Damn...” Harry murmured, running a hand over your right nipple as gently as he could.

He turned the rings over, looking at the small silver balls on either end. His left giving it the same treatment. You jerked as he twisted one a bit too fast. “Easy...” You whimpered, desperately wanting his knee back between your legs.

Harry finally pulled away, satisfied by his thorough inspection. “That’s hot.” He told you, nodding his head in confirmation. “It is?” You smirked. “Yeah, makes me wonder...” He trailed. “Wonder what?” “What else you’re hiding.”

Harry attacked your lips with a new vigor. You eagerly returned it, trying to tug Harry’s shirt over his head. “Shit.” You groaned as he ground his hard on against you.

“Stop.” Harry ordered, making you stop in your tracks. Harry lowered one foot to the floor and started unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down. You froze for a second before quickly following his lead. You pushed down your skirt and panties, barely kicking them off before Harry was on top of you again.

Harry brushed his lips over yours, bringing you into a sweet and gentle kiss before he pushed his length into you. “Fuck!” You hissed, arching your back. Harry hissed at the cold metal against his chest.

Harry paused, letting you adjust to him. You blushed heavily as he brushed some stray hair off your forehead, licking and blowing on your collarbone. You shivered.

Then it was like he did a 180. He pulled back, smirking over your naked form. “This,” He reached down and pinched your nipple, making you howl. “Is mine, all mine. You are all mine.” He growled possessively. “Yes!” You panted.

He grinned and slammed back into you, setting a fast pace. You cursed and swore, clawing Harry's back as he didn't let up. "Harry, I'm gonna-" You cut yourself off with a moan as you came, hard. Your vision swirled as Harry finally took mercy on you and paused.

Harry tsked, looking over you like a cat that caught the canary. "You always were a sensitive one, eh Dolly?" To punctuate, he flicked your nipple. Throat sore and shredded, you just trembled.

"Round two." Harry muttered, this time throwing your legs up over his shoulders. You actually shrieked as he reentered you, going for a slower but deeper pace. "You're gonna come for me again." He declared. You felt like your nerves were on fire, overstimulated.

"Can't... can't..." Your hoarse voice echoed in-between the sounds of slapping skin. For a moment, you forgot who you were dealing with. Harry didn't give up. Ever.

"You can." Harry said. "You can and will." He reached a hand down your folds and found your sensitive bud."Right now!" Harry's voice shook as his release came closer and closer. You screamed again, tiding out your second wave of ecstasy as black dots slowly clouded your vision.

You blinked slowly, raising up ever so slightly. Your body was sore and felt like a big bruise. You groaned, catching Harry's attention. "Easy lass." He gently pulled you to him and pulled a sheet up to your waist's.

"Thought I killed ya there." He laughed, a nervous edge to his voice. You giggled as Harry rested his chin on your head. "Never took you for a cuddler." You remarked.

"I guess we have a lot more to learn about each other." He smirked. "Yeah." You said peacefully, relishing in his embrace.

#harry hook #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook imagine #harry hook x reader #descendants harry #harry hook smut

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tbhwhocaresanymore · 3 years

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Nancy Drew 2x7

I love all the supernatural aspects of Nancy Drew but as a fan of the books first and foremost I absolutely adored this episode, finding the truth hidden in the superstitious shadows. And methinks Carson handling a divorce case could foreshadow Bess’s impending divorce? We’ll have to see.

Going to start this review off with a potentially hot take: I don’t think Odette is nefarious. Yes she’s possessing George but she’s not killing her, and when George told Nick nothing was going on Odette called her a liar. I think she’s like any other ghost and has unfinished business she wants to take care of. It’s possible the only reason she’s possessing George is because she doesn’t have anything or any place to haunt and so she latched on to a living person. Either way I don’t think she’s malevolent, I think she just wants something. But the way the show is showing Odette possession is fantastic. Leah Lewis is a power house, her entire body changes when she’s Odette, and the way the camera tilts? *chef’s kiss*

But not telling Nick about the possession is most DEFINITELY going to come back to bite her in the ass. How ironic would it be if Nick broke up with Nancy because she didn’t care enough about him, and he and George break up because she cares too much about him? It would be a wonderfully angsty parallel I’ll say that much. Nick’s line “Well are you gonna open up?” as he stands outside the closed door, and her not opening up until after he’s already gone? Foreshadowing if I ever saw it.

Once more as a book fan, Nancy’s reputation is spreading and I love it. In the books people came to her directly or through her dad all the time with mysterious goings on for her to solve, and it looks like the show is also heading down that path. I wonder what kind of updates @NancyDrewsNews puts out? Especially now that they haven’t dealt with anything supernatural in a while. Not counting the lamia since I doubt they posted about it on Twitter or whatever her site is. Someone remind me, Bess runs the account right?

Moving onwards, I think one of the plots I’m looking forward to the most this season is Carson and Ryan and Nick teaming up to take down Hudson enterprises and Nancy inevitably having to rescue them. Every time Carson and Ryan are on screen together it’s amazing, and their scene this episode was one of my favorites. It had a bit of comedy with Ryan only having 50 dollar bills and Carson just being like -_-. And Ryan isn’t even really trying to be a father figure to Nancy, he’s just trying so hard to protect her and it is so sweet. When he realized his father might figure out Ryan is onto him, his first thought isn’t for himself it’s for Nancy. My heart. And his line towards the end gave me goosebumps. “One phone call. That’s how he does it. I mean he’ll have her dying in some mysterious accident that’s how he does it. It-it-it doesn’t matter if he’s in jail or if he’s on the moon, he’ll make it happen.” CHILLS. I hope as we dive deeper into the situation around Hudson Enterprises we find out more about Ryan’s relationship with Tiffany. I mean he married her, and he was at least a little heartbroken at her funeral, he must have been in love with her at some point even if he did have an affair.

The girl trio was also on point this episode, both of them. The hotel room bit with Nancy and George and Bess really showcased the balance of their relationship so beautifully. Bess always goes for ghosts, George always goes for Occam’s Razor, and Nancy finds the truth. And the other girl trio, the college girls, were absolutely hysterical, they are my favorite minor characters thus far. Seeing Nick and Ace brought to their knees by 19 year olds? Poetic cinema. And the whole scene with Nick’s phone call? “Smells like girl trouble to me. We can help. Tell us everything.” Two of them give him opposite advice as the one in the middle just chows down on pizza and Nick stares in befuddlement. Fabulous.

Onto ships, there was sadly no Drewson content this episode and I think the vibes I was supposed to be getting are, ‘Nancy has jealous feelings over Ace flirting with another girl and doesn’t understand it’s jealousy’. Instead don’t hate me but I was getting some sparks from Ace and Amanda, like Ace and Nancy have chemistry but Ace and Amanda have chemistry. “I could type slower if you want” and “The flirting wasn’t a ruse.” “Don’t go anywhere.” Can I ship it? Trick question of course I can.

Like I said at the beginning this mystery was one of my favorite’s because it gave me all kinds of book feels, but also because it was stunninggg. And that scene at the end where a dark haired lady walked into the basement? God I fucking KNEW it was Possessed!George. And then the ending ending? Holy CRAP. Guys, Bess has a husband? Holy fuck! Judging by the accent I’m guessing he’s someone she was married to back in London, maybe her family arranged it. Maybe he’s found his way back to her to blackmail her because he wants money? Either way this is going to last more than one episode, and I’m betting Bess is going to seek help from Carson at one point. Also wouldn’t it be something if Lisbeth popped back up in this episode only to find out Bess was married the entire time they dated? Anyway.

Two quick final thoughts, I cannot believe that Carson really is completely in the dark about the whole Aglaeca/supernatural shebang, and the mention of Columbia online courses gave me PTSD. I’ll watch this week’s episode when it airs tonight and post my review sometime before 1 in the morning.

Time for Dead Lucy. I have decided she’s currently gone only because she’s haunting Everett Hudson in revenge and as soon as she’s done she will be back. I will accept no contradictions.

#Nancy Drew cw #Nancy Drew #Ned Nickerson #Ned Nick Nickerson #Bess Marvin #George Fan #Ace #Carson Drew #Ryan Hudson #Amanda Bobbsey #Ace x Amanda #writers bring back dead lucy

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Part Seven - Wish You Weren’t Here - Diego Jiménez x Reader - Starz Power fanfic

A/N: I totally promised some Diego-Piglet interaction and did *not* deliver. But don’t worry there will be some soon.

Warnings: This chapter is just SMUT, Unprotected sex, Gun kink!, Angst (obvi)

------ Diego is in your apartment.

He’s wearing a silk button down and tight pants and shoes that probably cost more than your sofa and he’s standing in your little shabby apartment looking out of place and like he has no idea why he came.

“You actually came,” you laugh nervously, fiddling with the hem of the short dress you threw on when he texted. It’s flouncy and thin and short and still extremely conservative compared to the get ups that Diego’s usual...companions...wear. When you ransacked your closet, you kept hearing the echo of Diego’s words from earlier today, Would it kill you to wear something with a little more...access?

You watch Diego’s eyes drift down to the short hemline of the dress, trailing down your bare legs. You feel a thrill go through you thinking that he likes what he sees. He steps forward and drags his hands up your sides, letting the fabric of the dress gather and ride up until your ass is nearly exposed.

“I had some unfinished business…”

***

The Chinese food sits cooling on your kitchen counter as Diego pulls you onto his lap. Your legs straddle him, the thin material of your dress riding up to reveal your shapely thighs hugging his pelvis. Diego skims his hands up your bare thighs, ghosting over the fabric of your silk panties and diving around to palm your ass. You let out a strangled moan and buck against the obvious bulge of his erection. The friction of his jeans rubbing you through your thin panties sends spikes of quivering pleasure through your bloodstream. You’ve never felt this lost to your desire before. You need him. You crave him. Like an addiction. You know he’s bad for you. You know he’ll only hurt you. But you don’t care.

“Baby,” you whisper, dropping forward to press your hungry lips to his. He obliges, returning the kiss with a bruising force, twisting his fingers into the hair at the back of your neck and angling your head to his liking.

When he pulls away you’re gasping for breath. His voice is rough as he replies, “I’m not your baby, niñita. I’m your papi.”

Holy fucking shit. The sound you make in response to his words is only discernible to bats and dolphins. How does he do this to you? You’re like putty in his hands. One minute you’re a rational, logical being. The next you’re only capable of thinking with your vagina. You wonder if this is how men feel all the time…

“Diego...papi…” you feel shy using the erotic pet name, but Diego’s feral growl in response gives you confidence. “I need you…”

You grind against him, your hips hugging his, desperate for more contact, desperate to have him inside you. Like, now. Diego squirms a little and reaches behind him.

“Hold on,” he grunts and pulls the golden gun out of the back of his pants, placing it innocently beside you on the couch. He takes your face in his hands and tries to guide you back to his lips but your eyes are caught on the gleaming, gold menace sitting like a memento mori on your couch cushion.

“Uhh…” Diego trails his fingers along the collar of your dress, tugging and testing the material before dragging it down your arms and baring your chest. He’s about to unclasp your bra when you brush him away, “Wait! Diego, can you just--maybe move the gun to the coffee table. Or the kitchen. Or some place far away from me?”

Diego looks up at you and something in your face stills him, throwing cold water over his fevered skin.

He stares at you as he reaches out for the gun and doesn’t miss when you tense as his hand wraps around the grip.

“You’re scared of me?” his voice is husky, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows some unwelcome, foreign emotion.

“Not…” you clear your throat, squirming in his lap, still very much aroused-- “not exactly. I just don’t like...the gun.”

Your mind flashes back to the day you walked in on Diego about to kill a man. He meant to kill you that day. You can’t forget the press of the still-warm gun against your cheek. You swallow back your own emotions. You really don’t want this to be a thing.

You lean forward and rest your forehead against Diego’s, capturing his gaze, “Just put it away so we can keep…”

You roll your hips against him and Diego drags in a ragged breath through parted lips, but he stills you with a hand to your hip.

“Watch this,” he orders and releases the magazine from the handgun, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table. He brandishes the unloaded gun between you. “It can’t hurt you, querida. And I...I won’t hurt you.”

Liar. You know Diego won’t physically harm you. But emotionally? He’s a bomb waiting to go off. Still...he makes you feel like you’re the sexiest version of yourself...

“Take it,” he says, handing the gun to you, wrapping your fingers around the handle with his own. Even unloaded, you can’t help but think about its capacity for violence. You weigh it your hands, turning it this way and that. As you inspect it, Diego’s fingers creep along your inner thighs and delve beneath the fabric of your panties. They slide into your slick wetness and he chuckles softly, “So wet for me. You think you’re ready for me? Hmm?”

Diego’s eyes gleam with cheeky arrogance. In a moment of inspiration you press the muzzle of the gun to the sensitive skin beneath his jaw and lean into his lips, “Why don’t you get me ready for you, Diego?”

The moan that Diego lets out is broken. The image of you holding him at gunpoint while he pleasures you is too much. He never would have imagined when he first hired a nervous, drab housekeeper that he was really hiring a secret nymph capable of taking him apart. He slides his fingers through your folds, slicking them in your wetness before thrusting two inside of you with a jerk of his wrist. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, pressing the gun harder to Diego’s neck.

“So tight,” Diego grumbles, pistoning his hand against your core. “It’s been a while, huh?”

You nod your head absentmindedly. Your grip on the gun loosens and you let it fall to his shoulder as you ride his fingers.

“So eager,” he whispers, his eyes are locked on your face, watching you moan and cry as you fuck yourself on his hand. “You can’t wait to have my cock inside you, huh?”

You groan loader, rubbing and thrusting and desperate for more. The gun slips from your fingers entirely and Diego picks it up with his free hand. He brings the muzzle up to your face and lets the cool metal trace down the column of your neck and circle around your breasts. You gasp and your eyes open wide as he presses the muzzle under the fabric of your bra and brings it up against your straining, taught nipple.

Shock and pleasure rip through you. Diego smirks smugly and continues his path, dragging the gun along your round belly and trailing south. He slips his fingers out of you and you mewl in protest, but he shushes you, replacing his fingers with the lethal muzzle of the gun, sliding it carefully and gently against your clit and all the while watching your face.

At first you’re tense, staring down at him with uncertainty. But Diego’s gun is like an extension of his body. He uses it expertly, pulsing the warming metal against your core gently but firmly until your body starts responding again. Slow, shy at first, you start to roll your hips, grinding your wet pussy against the weapon that’s killed countless people. Clutching the shoulders of the man responsible for those kills.

“I knew you’d like this, little girl,” Diego growls, his voice dark and filthy. “I knew you secretly wanted me to use this gun on you. Didn’t you?”

Your mind is mush and you’ll say anything if he’ll keep rubbing you, “Yes, Diego!”

Diego reaches up with his free hand and slaps your breast playfully before rubbing his calloused fingers over your nipple. The extra sensation sends a shivering spike of pleasure through you and you feel your peak coming.

Your eyes have drifted shut but Diego slaps you again on the cheek to get you to open them, “Look, bonita. Watch me fuck you with my gun. If you don’t come--right now--what should I do with you, hmm? I’ll load this fucking gun and make you suck it.”

What the fuck? Why are you so turned on by this? God, Diego is an animal. And you--apparently--love it. It doesn’t matter and you don’t have to worry about Diego loading the gun because a second later you’re crying out and crumpling against him as your orgasm shocks through your system.

Diego doesn’t allow you a second to recover before he’s flipping you onto your back on the couch and frantically unbuckling his belt. You gaze up at him through lust-blurred vision and notice that his hands are shaking as he shoves down his pants. Then you’re a little distracted because he’s lining up his massive erection and pressing into you slowly, burying his face in the crook of your neck and groaning against your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. He raises up and captures your lips in a searing kiss as he thrusts fully inside of you. The stretch of him is a delicious pain and you moan into the kiss. Diego’s hands cup your face and his touch is impossibly gentle given he was threatening to make you suck off his loaded gun only a moment ago. You hug his hips with your thighs, locking your legs around his waist as he rolls against you.

It’s your turn to watch Diego’s face. He’s so vulnerable in this moment, completely unguarded. His eyes slip closed and his lips part as his breath stutters with the effort of controlling his vicious lust. And all the while he’s whispering, “You’re so good, Y/N. How can you be so--nngh! I’m gonna ruin you. I’ll ruin you, Y/N and you’ll let me, won’t you?”

His hips pick up pace and he cradles your body against him as he pounds into you with bruising force. You’re reeling mentally even as your body ramps up for a second orgasm. On the surface his words sound like typical Diego dirty talk. But something in his voice and the way he’s touching you with such reverence makes you think he really means what he’s saying. He’ll ruin you. He doesn’t want to, but he knows he will.

You rub your hands down his muscled back and answer him, firmly, “You won’t ruin me, Diego.”

He looks at you and in his eyes there is longing mixed with terror. His lips tremble and his eyes flood with unshed tears. He hides his face in your neck as he answers, “Yes...I will. I ruin...everything...I--I…”

His orgasm tears through him like an explosion and yours follows soon after. Lights dance in your eyes and you clench your thighs around Diego, tightening your arms around his shoulders and holding him in place so he can’t escape. You’re feeling...warm, fuzzy feelings that you absolutely must not put into words. It’s just your body chemistry tricking you. The fact that Diego is clutching you just as tightly and there are little shivers shaking his shoulders is not helping your resolve.

“You’re good, Diego,” you whisper into his ear, stroking your fingers through his hair. But the lie tastes like copper on your tongue. Is he a good man? Really? Do you care?

“No…” he answers, nuzzling his stubbled cheek against you, “I’m not…”

Tags:

@lockedoutofmyotherblog @1zashreena1 @lannister-slings-and-arrows @glowingpena @flower-petal-blooming @symbiont13 @pullthedamnlever @sparrows-books @joalsglasses @ishqinbbc @pre-schoolervengance @skys-luce-stellare @popculturepriestess @nolongertwo @ughwhyareyoulikethist @squidlywiddly87 @damndamer0n @xboxdudett @khicks3

#Diego Jiménez #Diego Jiménez x Reader #Damnit Diego #Maurice Compte #Starz Power #chelsfic #smut

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 3 years

Note

Multiples of 6 for the OC asks!

AYYYYYYYYYY THANK YOU

i think for this one i’ll answer each question with three ocs for comparison >:V

(under the cut because, predictably, It Got Long)

6. Do they smoke or do they hate smoking.

(origfic, unnamed superhero verse)

Neil: won’t touch cigarettes, but has been known to smoke a bowl every now and then when his anxiety gets the best of him. he doesn’t like doing it--he’s internalized some pretty negative shit about how it means he’s a trashy, weak-willed loser who can’t handle reality--but since meeting nads and then beth, he’s eased up a lot on the guilt and is able to relax more.

Nads: smokes cigarettes, but only if they’re stolen. she’s got an active lifestyle to say the least and she doesn’t want to risk fucking up her lungs, so that’s her compromise. my god does she love her weed though

Beth: smokes cigarettes to take the edge off her anxiety when she has to go outside during the day. she knows they’re worse for her than weed, but she’s wary enough of her liminal space powers without imagining what they might do if she got stoned.

12. What’s an outfit they’d despise wearing Vs one they’d love wearing? Draw it!

(Tales of Arcadia; i’m godawful at drawing clothes so i’ll just describe them as best i can ashdflkshdfkl)

Liyen: loves comfortable, understated, professional-looking masc clothes, usually in muted shades of gray, blue, or black. give them a fuzzy turtleneck sweater and black pants and they’re happy. meanwhile they’d be SUPER uncomfortable in loud, clashing colors or anything too femme.

Schommag: Does Not Like Clothes That Will Get in Her Way, also not a big fan of dressing femme with very few exceptions (the right Little Black Dress, for example). give her what she needs to get around the woods and stay out of her way. that said she does love showing off her muscles, so she wears a lot of tank tops and sports bras (and sometimes no top at all, if she can get away with it).

Oryalv: VERY femme, particularly business casual. this man loves his pantsuits. meanwhile his nightmare is middle-aged high school coach aesthetic. put him in a t-shirt and khakis and he’ll start pouring smoke like a teakettle

18. Have they ever committed a crime? How? Why? If not, then what’s their opinion on crime?

(origfic, unnamed VALENTINE DON’T DO THAT verse)

Valentine: has been made complicit in a lot of their family’s cutthroat-noble shadiness growing up, is otherwise a law-abiding sort up until they jump off the slippery slope and get the war crime ball rolling in earnest. Whoops

Edmund: has gotten into plenty of cutthroat-noble shadiness of his own volition, thank you very much. unlike valentine he’s a whole lot more inclined to go UHHH and pull up when it comes to war crimes

Marcel: LOVES war crimes. LOVES them. would marry them if he could. lucky for him he’s captain of the guard and has plenty of opportunities. will otherwise use the law as a bludgeon but i don’t think he’s too bothered about it for its own sake

24. Mcdonalds, subway, or KFC?

(Final Fantasy Tactics A2)

Nebilim: subway, grease is sensory hell and makes him sick and it’s the easiest place to avoid it. the number of variables per sandwich make him anxious, but if he has to pick one then fuck it, it’s worth not putting grease in his body.

Moovry: loves grease with all his somehow-still-functioning heart, would bring his own beer keg to KFC and refuse to leave til he’s finished his fourth bucket of chicken

York: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS. gets the happy meal and then uses the toy to test their black magic minispells. we hardly knew ye, beyblade

30. Have they ever dreamed about another oc?

(Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, taxidermy/doll horror cw)

Faerna: has dreams about missing his mother sometimes. he hasn’t seen her in a long time, and for all he knows she thinks he’s dead, but he can’t bring himself to go back and look for her when he doesn’t know if she’ll approve of the life he’s chosen for himself. for all he talks himself up, not everyone’s happy to have a thief and a conman for a son.

SkekNev: has recurring dreams about the victims of their taxidermy coming back to life. less of a HOLY SHIT THE DOLLS ARE ALIVE nightmare for them, more of an anger/anxiety nightmare because stop that, stop having autonomy, i made you like this for a reason.

Aivne: dreams a lot about her little siblings. outright nightmares, semi-lucid rehearsals of danger scenarios, memories from before they lost their parents.

36. If they’re nonhuman, what’s their opinion on humans?

(origfic, faeverse)

Aislinng: vampire/incubus, more specifically A Dracula Lookin Motherfucker. depending on how much of a bastard he is in a given au, humans are usually somewhere between ‘fun to dazzle with my Supernatural Charms’ and ‘boring. where are the interesting people to torment’

Meadowsweet: rabbit faun. depending on which of the two wildly different versions of him we’re talking about, he either treats humans with the same goodwill as anyone else who might need his healing, or looks down on them and considers them fair game for whatever evil bastard he’s pining after this week.

Agaric: aislinng’s son with a forest spirit, so fuck if i know what to call him at this point. humans tend to find his brand of quiet, aloof awkwardness either offputting or endearing; either one is mortifying, and he’d mostly rather just keep to himself.

42. What’s their standpoint when it comes to washing hands?

(origfic, bumfuck nowhere cult)

Cristina: obsessed with cleanliness, washes her hands constantly, crissy please you live in the desert

Skinner: if my hands are clean i can’t wipe them on cristina’s robes now can i

Rosemary: who needs to wash hands when you’ve got tentacles ;)

48. If they were defeated fairly in battle, would they accept and move on or throw a fit?

(origfic, slasher movie slaughterhouse dimension)

Maggie: will stay down and let you think she’s beaten, until you take your eyes off her for a second too long. then she’ll go for your hamstring

Dee: will accept it and move on, but will also try to make you feel like winning wasn’t really important anyway. maggie loves her dearly but she is kind of infuriating to everyone else

Esau: is delighted when somebody beats him, because if they’ve gotten that far they’ve committed at least one horrific atrocity and will have to live with that forever (if not embrace it). the real treasure was the corruption and PTSD we found along the way. no wonder maggie kind of hate-connects with him, he reminds her of dee lmao

54. Have they ever lost anyone?

(misc origfic)

Gray: lost the person who summoned them, gave them form, and taught them how to speak. once she died, all they knew was that she’d stopped coming, and that their only friend--their only contact with the world outside the cave--was gone. they’re there alone for a long time before a hitchhiker stumbles across them, and now they’re clingy as fuck and terrified of being abandoned again.

Ashdown: lost her wife the spring before her story begins, which left her so depressed she didn’t bother flying south for the winter with everyone else. she does eventually find love again, after coming to terms with the fact that what she’s lost isn’t the only thing she can ever have.

Jake: lost his older brother as a kid, which might or might not be why some fuck haunting their own fursuit recruits him to help with their unfinished business.

[DYING WHEEZE]

thank you again for the questions!!! i have. so many ocs. SO many ocs, and it’s always fun to get a chance to trot a bunch of them out, especially with a good range of questions like these :D

#the golden ghost #tales of arcadia #dark crystal age of resistance #asks #tag memes #ocs #my ocs #toa tag #origfic tag #my origfic #final fantasy tag #smoking cw #weed cw #dolls cw #origfic group tag #because there's too many to tag all of them on this post asdhfslkdfhsdf

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currentlyreadingmanga · 4 years

Text

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun Chapter 19: Mitsuba (Part 2)

Previously: we started a new arc! We shifted the focus to Kou and his new ghost friend, Mitsuba. He’s a new-ish ghost and not at all what I expected (but I’m honestly kinda living for it). Together they’re trying to work out what Mitsuba’s unfinished business is so he can move on. They seem to work well together (in a very chaotic type of way). It started out very cute and then it got real angsty real fast, and I suspect it’s only gonna get worse this chapter :)) I can’t wait :)))

Now onto the next chapter!

You know when you say you’re gonna upload more regularly but then life happens and you get sick (AGAIN)........yeah, don’t know what that’s like or anything……..sigh

Anyway, time to finally keep going with the feels train from last chapter. And omfg

Only the first page and I’m already feeling all the feelings ;n; Look at them!! They were so precious! I know it’s not rare for people to stop being friends when they change classes but still :C

He’s saying that he tried to reach out to everyone he considered a friend but none of them recognized him. I know I said it last chapter but god, this is so heartbreaking, this poor child. Kou looks speechless, and I can’t say I blame him, it’s a lot to unpack.

Awwww baby he was bullied in elementary school for “looking like a girl” and being “cocky” :( I know not everyone is like that, but people like these are the reason I was so glad to be over with high school (not elementary school because I went to school with basically the same people since I was five). Kids can be so unnecessarily mean :/

Ah, okay. So when he started middle school, he decided to change things up.

Oh, sweetheart ;; He tried, he tried so hard because he just wanted to have friends and be happy but it backfired. I can’t even imagine how that must have felt. Like, what was the point of locking away his true self if no one cared about him either way? “A boring guy who barely stands out from the background” I really resonate with this line (and I’m sure a lot of people do as well). I’m quite shy nowadays but I was extremely shy when I was younger; I only really had two close friends in class (they’re thankfully two of my best friends to this day) and I knew everyone else didn’t particularly cared about me unless they needed something. I didn’t really get bullied but I was made fun of a few times because I was a bit overweight, and that, inaddition to my anxiety, really dealt a blow to my self-esteem. I only started to really open up during my second year of college when I met a lot of people who had interests and personalities similar to mine. What I’m trying to say with all this is that it can take a really long time for you to be comfortable in your own skin and to be comfortable sharing who you are and what you enjoy; hell, I still have a hard time doing it. But it gets better, even if it doesn’t seem like it will, it does, and it breaks my heart to see that Mitsuba didn’t get the chance to experience that, that he didn’t get the chance to find friends that loved him for who he was when he was still alive.... Oof, okay, that got sad fast. Let’s keep reading.

In his own clumsy way, I think he’s trying to lift Mitsuba’s spirits. Since he’s one of the people who forgot about him, he probably feels guilty, so this is his way of saying “I didn’t remember the fake you, but I will do my damn best to remember the real you and I’ll let the others know as well”. And yeah, it’s brash, but I like it, I see it as a way of preserving Mitsuba’s actual memory, who he really was and not the persona that just made him unhappy.

Ah, good, he apologized for not remembering him and he also explains that the reason he didn’t recognize him was because he was so different from when they first met. Fair tbh, there’s quite a gap between the seemingly soft spoken boy and Mitsuba’s actual teasing nature and colorful vocabulary.

Kou is such a good kid. Like, I know Mitsuba is already dead but I’m so glad someone told him this. And hey, it could help him move on as well. OH! HANG ON. Okay, so, Mitsuba said that he thinks his regret has something to do with taking a picture he couldn’t when he was alive, right? If we take into consideration what we’ve learned so far, it seems like Mitsuba’s biggest regret centers around the fact that he couldn’t form long-lasting friendships. So like, is the picture he wanted to take one with his friends?? Because that’s- that’s so sad but also so sweet I think I could cry. Kou, in his own way, tells him that he’s a pretty alright guy and Mitsuba says “a lot of good that does me now” but hey, it actually does, because I think he really needed to hear that.

Ahhhhhh Mitsuba asks him if they could have been friends if he were still alive. Of course you could have, sweetie! Come on, Kou, tell him!

ಥ‿ಥ ಥ‿ಥ ಥ‿ಥ ಥ‿ಥ ಥ‿ಥ ಥ‿ಥ

He’s taking a picture of Kou!!!!!!!

(TдT)(TдT)(TдT) my heart oh my god I love them so much look at these babies.

Kou is being oblivious but Mitsuba tells him not to worry about it and that he thinks that once they develop the pictures, he’ll be able to move on ;; (Or at least I think that’s what he means.)

(⚆.⚆) (⚆.⚆)

(;;⚆_⚆) Oh…………..there he is……..oh dear

But ALSO, hello?? do they know each other?? how? when??? (also imo the stylistic choice of making that speech bubble black is incredibly effective because you can just feel the malice behind it)

Oh, I’m so glad that Kou realized so fast that he isn’t Hanako. Like, yeah, the clothes are a big help but I feel like this boy’s aura is so different from Hanako’s (well, from regular Hanako, since he does have some moments when he smiles creepily).

Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) (ﾟдﾟ；) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) HOLY FUCKING SHIT W H A T

What is he doing???? what??? did he like, kill him off, like, for good??? wha t????

Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) OH GOD, IT KEEPS GETTING WORSE

………………….oh? So he does work as a “Hanako-kun” like Amane? That’s interesting because when I first came up with that I thought it would be possible if “Hanako-kun” was one spirit that split itself depending on who summoned him. But now that I know that he’s actually Amane’s twin, I have to wonder how and why did this happen. Like, why is it that both of them ended up with this role? Is it because they are twins and since they look the same the rumors then would consider them to be just one entity?

Mitsuba’s wish was “I want to stay in everyone’s memories” and I just ;;;;;;;;

(ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；)

First: please let the child go omfg. Second: that’s not your decision to make. If Mitsuba thinks that having Kou remember him is enough, then that’s it, there’s nothing more to argue. And I repeat: ple a se let go of the child. Why is he trying to interfere? Like, yes, Hanako helped Yashiro as much as he could when she made her wish(es), but he only kept interfering because she still wasn’t happy with the outcome. Mitsuba seems to be okay with it, so he shouldn’t have a reason to meddle.

“Don’t you lay a hand on my friend!!” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Kou is such a good kid, we don’t deserve him. But also he’s being reckless and it fills me with worry ;;

Ohhhhhhh okay. I didn’t consider that before. Whether Hanako could only grant wishes to living people or not, I mean. I assumed he did, so it’s interesting to know that there’s someone who can grant the wishes of the dead. That brings up a couple of questions, though. Like, what are the limits of his powers? What does he take in exchange? Are the wishes of the dead similar to Mitsuba’s or do they have a bigger range? Is any spirit able to summon him or are there restrictions like in Amane’s case (even if we still don’t know what the conditions for summoning him are yet)? Also, again, it seems like he’s more “pushy” than Amane is in regard to his wish granting.

…...oh, oh no. they’re gonna forcefully change his rumor so that his wish comes true (even though Mitsuba was happy before and ghost boy here doesn’t like to listen to other opinions, apparently)

[also now I feel really bad about the crooked man joke I made last chapter. I didn’t think it would come back to bite me in the ass like this;;]

Oh god, that’s some horrifying imagery. There’s nothing gruesome but the way that it’s drawn conveys the despair he’s feeling so well.

“If you can’t tell him his name then he’ll break your neck to make you look like him” jfc that’s just cruel ;; to turn his sincere and desperate wish into a weapon, to turn him into a mindless weapon (because we know that he’s gonna have to do it unless Yashiro is able to change it or unless Hanako takes matters into his own hands). Also it just hit me that Mitsuba is not dead dead so like, why the fuck did Hanako n°2 put a hole in his chest???? what was the point?? just to be a piece of shit?

…………………..I-

Yes. that, same. Wh-what the fuck

OH! Haku-joudai went to report to Hanako what happened! Oh boy, oh dear. He looked shocked and slightly afraid and I’m :)) terrified :)))

So, he’s on the side of chaos, basically. Like, he clearly does whatever the fuck he wants, and he wants complete and total freedom to do so, without a care about how that might affect others. Lovely :))))

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk spoilers #jshk #tbhk #live blogging

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sally-mun · 4 years

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I did enjoy it. It was a surprise that it wasn't so much TP by itself, but rather its validation of your emotional investment in the series. I never considered that because I don't share much attachment to OoT; to this day, my brain stutters when people do things like call the character "Malon" instead of "Romani".

Yeah, basically. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that Twilight Princess isn’t strong enough to stand on its own, because I absolutely think it’s one of the best iterations of the series by far. My unfinished business with Ocarina of Time just made Twilight speak to me even harder than it would have regardless.

Although, I will say that Twilight Princess did make a contribution to my old Light Temple ideas, so it’s not a purely one-way street! When I initially came to the conclusion that the Light Temple and the Temple of Time were likely the same building, I had wondered how exactly that worked, given that it’s just a church and we can see exactly how big it is. For lack of any other real explanation, my guess was always that the Light Temple was mostly underground, hence why I said the back chamber was the “entrance” to the temple.

When Twilight Princess rolled around, I realized that there’s another possibility that, honestly, I think works much better. I still think that, had all of that been true, the chamber is still only the entrance -- but that it’s the entrance to the Sacred Realm, not a brick-and-mortar temple in the same sense that the others were.

This scene in Twilight Princess, where you’re able to essentially time travel back to when the Temple of Time wasn’t in ruins, made it click for me that something like this could’ve worked perfectly for Ocarina of Time. Once the idea hit me, I felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. OF COURSE the Light Temple would take place in the Sacred Realm! That’s what the “light” is all about! It’s holy power! That’s WHY you get the Light Arrows there! They’re the ultimate holy weapon! And if something was going down in there, it would make sense for Rauru to go in to take care of business if he were the holy man managing the sacred grounds. It would just be all the more reason for him to be the one chosen to be the Light Sage. Furthermore, the Sacred Realm is the only place that we see him in the version of the game we actually got, so if his role were to be scaled down, that seems like the most logical place for him to end up. It all makes perfect sense, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

So, yeah, had the Light Temple actually been included in the game, I think it would’ve functionally worked just like these doors leading into the past, except instead of traveling through time you’re traveling through realms. It may not have even been an extensive temple, since I can’t imagine enemies actually making their way in (or at least, not for a significant amount of time), so maybe it would’ve been all puzzles and platforming, or maybe instead of enemies it was more “hey the Sacred Realm is so intense it’s honestly dangerous for your puny Hylian mortal body to even be in here, so don’t touch things or they’ll kill you.” It’s hard to say, it’s just speculation of the highest degree.

EDIT: On of my friends, @shm128iii, pointed out that it’s entirely possible that the Sacred Realm could have enemies in it on purpose, as a means of testing anyone that happened to come in, a la Wind Waker’s Tower of the Gods. I had completely forgotten about this since my brain was so focused on Ocarina and Twilight, but now that it’s been brought up, I think that makes a ton of sense as well. After all, the Sacred Realm isn’t fucking around, and I think it’s absolutely within reason to expect anyone who wants something as powerful as the Light Arrows to have to pass an insanely difficult test before actually getting them; in fact, it could be argued that that’s why Rauru disappeared. When Ganon took over, maybe Rauru decided to risk going into the Light Temple because he (rightfully) believed that the Light Arrows were necessary to defeat him, but he suffered some sort of setback or mishap in the process.

Anyway I know you didn’t exactly ask for this little addition, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless~

#Legend of Zelda #Ocarina of Time #Twilight Princess #at least this one was short enough to not add a Read More #Anonymous

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flutiebear · 4 years

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what’s in a name?

The Dragon Quest games are well-known for their awesome localizations—voice acting, translation choices, cross-cultural puns, etc. Consistently it's always pretty top notch. But last night I played through Erik's new side story in DQXI S, which has a naming choice that's particularly inspired. I explain below the break.

WARNING: MASSIVE SPOILERS BELOW:

In the new content, Erik wakes up in a prison cell in a fortress of monsters, where he meets a mysterious healslime named "Healijah." (Which is an absolutely adorable name and perfect for one of those little blue cuddlybuddies, SO CUTE)

Anyway, over the course of the short story, you learn that Healijah is actually the Seer, the mysterious figure whose prophecies put Erik on the necessary path to meet the Luminary in the Heliodor dungeon (they also later on guide the Luminary, when he is in a time of great need). In turn, The Seer is actually Morcant's remaining goodness, taken Spirit form; as such, the Seer is a powerful magic user who can change form at will and appear/vanish at any time.

Back to Healijah. The name "Elijah" has deep significance in Judaism. (Christianity and Islam, too, but I only really know about the Jewish side of things.) Elijah is one of the best-known prophets of the Talmud; during his lifetime, he performed several whizzbang miracles, inspired a ton of people to seek out God—and, interestingly—ascended to Heaven while still alive. His prophecies were, quite literally, the stuff of legend. (Also he really liked sticking it to The Man. Like, a lot. He spent most of his life on the run from one king or another.)

A miracle-worker and prophet who became a spirit while still alive… sound familiar?

But Elijah is more to us than just some super-smart guy who likes to thumb his nose at kings. You can think of Elijah like a guiding spirit, sort of; or maybe more like a friendly uncle who loves to crash your parties. Supposedly, he's there at every bris (the ritual of circumcision, which symbolizes the covenant between God and God's chosen people). You also set a place and a cup of wine for Elijah at Passover, one of the biggest holidays of the year, in the hopes that he'll stop by—and, in fact, if a stranger should come to your house during the Seder, it is HIGHLY IMPLIED that that stranger is Elijah and you should welcome him to your table.

Elijah might be kinda-sorta-not-really-dead, but he also just can't seem to stay away from Earth. He loves to pitch in and offer his fellow Jews guidance, especially in their darkest hour. He also has vast knowledge of holy things. From Chabad.org:

According to tradition, Elijah frequently comes down to earth to help Jews in distress or reveal secrets of the Torah to our great scholars.

Yet Elijah is sort of a slippery dude. He goes where God wills him to go, so it's tough to actually recognize him when you see him. Nobody really knows what he looks like. He could look like anybody, really.

A person who takes many forms and likes to guide people in their darkest hour…. You see what I'm getting at, don't you?

There's more to it than that, of course. Elijah was said to have "a still small voice"; in one famous story, he's depicted as hanging out in a cave. He's said to have a banging beard. Really, I could draw parallels between Elijah and the Seer all day.

Also, Elijah had a disciple named Elisha, who took up his mantle when he ascended to heaven. Elisha was just a regular guy, but he immediately took to Elijah; when Elijah called, Elisha answered without hesitation. And as a doer of God's Will, Elisha ended up being a lot like Elijah; mostly, his role in the Talmud is mostly to finish Elijah's unfinished business.

Elisha's past before he hooks up with Elijah is something of a mystery. One thing's clear, though: Elisha also liked to stick it to The Man, just as much as his mentor. He often found himself on the wrong side of the law, and once had an entire army on his heels, with orders to kill him on sight.

Elisha wasn't as much of a flash-bang miracleworker as Elijah, though. His acts tended to be "smaller wonders": still miraculous, but more… human? He fixed some poisoned water holes; he gave a widow some bottomless pots of oil, so she had a means of providing for her and her kids. Generally, he didn't topple armies or do battle with demons. He was just kind. He traveled the ancient world being compassionate to people who needed it, when they needed it most.

There was one other thing that separated Elisha from his mentor. Whereas Elijah tended to be a bit of a loner, Elisha preferred to travel in the company of others. In fact, he often traveled in the company of princes—and at one point, the reigning king of Judah.

No matter how prickly Elisha sometimes was, he didn't set himself apart. No, he seemed to crave company; he spent his life journeying from place to place, always surrounded by other people. Elisha was a man of great loyalty – not just to God, but also to his fellow man.

I’m sure stuff I missed and more parallels that can be drawn, but all this is enough to convince me that the name “Healijah” was very much not just about whichever name was cutest, but also a conscious name selection as thoughtful and story-relevant as the Japanese developers originally naming Erik “Camus”.

#dragon quest xi #dragon quest 11 #dq erik #dqxi spoilers #dragon quest spoilers #starting nano off strong i guess #with some juicy meta #man it's been awhile #i thought my meta days were over but I GUESS NOT

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hoodoo12 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 11/15 NSFW

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

@turtlepated, @anyamercury @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice

Beetlejuice didn’t see her for several days.

He heard her, of course. He had nothing else to do but listen, and it was sad how reliant he became on trying to pinpoint where she was and imagining what she may be doing for entertainment. The house was old and everything creaked: the floors and the doors. Lisette had gone into the attic again for some reason, puttering around up above his head. He heard her in the kitchen, and now occasionally he heard the television, and of course he heard her go to her bedroom down the hallway.

She had to be aware that the house itself advertised where she was, but did she know that her bedsprings also let him know when she was masturbating?

He’d been sitting alone in this room for days, and now it was night again. As he sat and stewed over how this fucking breather had tricked him again by already knowing that holy water didn’t work on him, by lying and forcing him to show his hand about what he might be willing to do to get the fuck out of this prison, Beetlejuice heard the soft, telltale movements of bedsprings under her. They were subtle, and her moans were too, because he had to strain to pick them up.

Was she doing this on purpose? Was she getting herself off to tease him?! She was baiting him, the little slut--

The same sharper cry that had caught his attention while she was in the bath and that his brain obsessed a little bit over came from her bedroom, and Beetlejuice’s hand went into his trousers.

Was she naked, he wondered, or did she just push her hand under the elastic of her panties to finger herself? Was she playing with her nipples; did she use two hands on her pussy again like he’d seen in the tub? He fantastized all that and more.

Like before, he stroked himself in time with her moans. Once again his thoughts drifted to a more active role between the two of them. He wondered how her pussy would taste. He grinned at the thought of her making those sounds with his tongue lapping at her. He imagined the hot wet heat of her mouth on his cock, and how different the hot wet tight heat of her pussy would be. He groaned and instantly checked himself; did Lisette hear that? Did she know he was jerking off listening to her do herself?

He paused his hand and strained to listen again. The soft noises from her bedroom didn’t abate.

With a smile, Beetlejuice let himself work back to an accompanying pace. He couldn’t stop all the moans from passing his lips, but kept them quieter.

When the sounds from Lisette came to an abrupt halt with a longer gasp, he knew she was done. To feel her come on his cock, her pussy pulsing around him, her back arching, her hands grabbing at his hips to keep him close--fuck, that’d be divine--

Beetlejuice muzzled another groan to keep it quiet and came too. This time he cupped all his release in his hand, then when he returned to his senses he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Well, he was damned anyway, so eventually he rubbed his hand on the floor, leaving a streak of come on it.

If that residue was going to bind him to this fucking house, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t been suffering through before.

The house settled into that silence that meant everything under its roof was sleeping. Or dead. Beetlejuice drifted towards a doze, when he was ambushed by a thought:

She knew he’d been splashed by the water when she’d taken a bath. She’d admitted as much when she told him he hadn’t been affected by it, and then only way she could have known that was that she saw him get splashed.

She’d seen him!

She’d seen him beside the tub, she’d seen that his pant legs and feet had gotten moderately wet when she sloshed water onto the floor! That meant . . . that meant . . .

She’d seen him above her, jerking off.

If it was possible, Beetlejuice got colder with the realization Lisette had been seeing him for he didn’t know how long. Had she seen him from the start? He tried to wrap his head around this new comprehension. It took him aback. It made him wonder what else he missed, thinking that he was superior to breathers and they were easy to manipulate. And truthfully, a teeny bit of respect for her nosed its way into him.

She had some explaining to do, for sure. But Beetlejuice couldn’t help but grin lopsidely; despite the circumstances, despite the fact he should still be fuming because of her treatment of him, he couldn’t deny he liked her a little bit.

⁂

Lisette came by his room the next morning, bright and early. It was just to look in on him; she didn’t enter the room. Beetlejuice picked up his head and glared at her, but when she turned on her heel to leave again, in the face of another monotonous day he dropped the glare and called,

“Lisette! Lis! Hey! Come back!”

She hesitated, then complied. This was the first time he’d said her name, and her surprise was written on her face. The only thing she said, however, was,

“Lonely?” in a sarcastic tone.

“I’ve been lonely more than my life than not,” Beetlejuice replied quietly.

His unexpected sincerity and the sad truth in his voice disarmed her, because she uncrossed her arms and stepped further into the room.

“I’ve spent more time with you since you put me in this circle than I have with any other breather for I don’t know how long,” he continued.

She eyed him suspiciously. “What is this, some kind of Stockholm syndrome thing?”

“I don’t think the people with Stockholm syndrome admit it.”

“Touché, I guess? So what is it that you wanted?”

“I wanted to know . . .” He paused and figured he had nothing to lose. “. . . I wanted to know how long you’ve seen me.”

Lisette considered his request, then gave a half shrug. “I saw you hanging out in the bedroom when the realtor brought me through.”

Son of a bitch!

“You looked disheveled and exhausted. As you started following me around, though, there were times you looked livelier. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what you were. I mean, what you are, and man, that’s annoying.”

“Why didn’t you react to me?” he asked, both genuinely curious and a little bit annoyed that he’d had so little affect on someone, when his pride and joy was wrecking havoc.

She shrugged again. “I told you. I didn’t know what you were, so I didn’t know what I needed to do. My job is to get you out of here, but without some kind of information, I didn’t know how to do it. I crossed some things off my list, however, even if I still don’t have an answer.”

It was slightly odd, having a real conversation with her. He kind of enjoyed it. “And what did you cross off?”

Lisette sat down and got comfortable before she answered. She began ticking things off her fingers. “You’re not a ghoul because you’re definitely spectral. I’m still a little confused about the whole ‘shoggoth’ thing, but you’re not anything created by the Elder Gods, because you haven’t reacted to any of the Elder Signs more strongly than anything else written on the floor.”

Beetlejuice glanced at the chalk and could now see the twig-like sigils. She was right; he hadn’t payed them any attention.

Lisette had continued. “You’re not a physical manifestation of a Catholic demon. You’re not a poltergeist. You’re not a soul that just hasn’t moved on because of unfinished business, because you haven’t just ignored me. You’re not an incubus--”

“Hey! How do you know that? I could be an incubus!” he interjected.

She rolled her eyes before locking her gaze with his. “Because you watched me in the bathtub, and you didn’t come down to fuck me.”

So she had seen him with his dick out! If he had the capacity to be embarrassed, he’d have flushed red from his neck to the tips of his hair. Instead, he refused to let her get the upper hand in this exchange. He asked her directly,

“So you were watching me while I was watching you?”

“Yep.”

He’d already tried to intimidate her with a nightmarish monster, and that didn’t work. He had other tactics to try, however, and maybe they would.

Beetlejuice’s voice dropped to a gravelly seductive tone. “And did it do anything for you, baby?”

Clearly caught by surprise, Lisette actually giggled and, interestingly, she blushed. “Well . . .”

“Well what, baby?”

“It was . . . hot. And . . . impressive,” she admitted, and the glance she gave to his crotch made it clear what she was talking about.

Beetlejuice grinned. She wasn’t scandalized. She hadn’t immediately left the room. Which meant she must be a little bit turned on, and obviously more open sexually than she wanted to admit since she let a specter wank off to her masturbating. He pushed himself from a seated position to all fours, and crawled across the floor until he was as close as he could be, hindered by the invisible barrier.

“Mmm-hmm. I liked watching you too, baby. Were you thinking about me last night too?”

Her eyes widened. Maybe she knew he’d watched her in the tub, and maybe she liked it, but she hadn’t known he could hear her last night.

He pressed on. “I thought about you last night while I stroked myself. Hearing you moan made me so hard! I thought about how fun it would be, you and me. I bet I’d rock your world, baby, and I know you’d rock mine.”

Lisette’s breath had become more shallow, and her lips had parted a little. The blush hadn’t left her cheeks, and Beetlejuice could see that her pupils were a bit more dilated than they should be in this light. He bet that if he was able to touch her right now, her pulse would be quick and strong, and between her legs would be wet--

“What do you say, baby? I might not be an incubus, but that just means I don’t take and take and take. I give as good as I get. I’ve been around long enough to have learned some really naughty things that I’d love to share with you. Wanna go for a ride?” he asked, and deliberately adjusted himself through the front of his trousers. He watched her watch his hand.

He used the same hand to reach out imploringly to her. He hadn’t been completely untruthful; he’d welcome the opportunity to fuck her, but getting out of this goddamn circle was paramount.

But as aroused as Lisette was--and there was no way for her to deny it--she didn’t take his hand.

Flustered, she pushed herself up until she was standing and said, “I, uh . . . no, I can’t, Beetlejuice.”

Hearing his name, coupled with actually seeing her mouth form it, gave him a pleasurable shiver.

“That was beautiful, sweetheart,” he moaned, and wasn’t lying. He wondered if his eyes were as dark with arousal as hers were, as he looked up at her from his knees, still holding a hand out, palm up, beseeching. “Gimme another. Gimme two more, and I promise I’ll treat you like you’re my goddess.”

Lisette licked her lips.

His name spoken three times in a row had the power to break this incantation circle. He could feel it.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “Please?”

Her lips pressed together, the start of the first sound in his name. Beetlejuice waited, filled with a buzz of anticipation.

“I can’t,” she whispered back, breaking the tension. She backed out of the room quickly, even as he called after her desperately.

Beetlejuice groaned and dropped his hand and head to the floor. He felt weak and didn’t know what to think.

tbc

#beetlejuice #betelguese #writing #fanfiction #movie beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice

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i-guess-im-a-fanfic-writer-now · 5 years

Text

A better life (Chapter 1, Avengers x reader)

Hey, so I’ve been working on something longer than my other fics. This is an Avengers x reader thing, and here the reader is stuck in a bad situation with their mother. Long story short, reader’s in a bad situation, accidentally befriends the Avengers, it’s fun hanging out with them, they start noticing signs that something’s wrong. Haven’t finished writing it yet, there’s gonna be a few chapters, but I will finish it, so don’t worry about this being an unfinished fic that is untouched for 5 years. Also, I have decided to completely ignore the Events of Infinity War, Endgame, and Far From Home. Those aren’t real movies. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am the god in this story. You can’t stop me. Edit: chapter 9 is available on the blog now

Trigger warnings for this chapter: emotional abuse, physical abuse (nothing too intense, bruises, arm grabbing), a lot of swearing, all caps, guilt tripping

Alright, let’s go! I hope you enjoy this also please give me feedback that would be really appreciated Chapter 1:

“I just asked if I could -“

“Shut up, or else..”

You took a step backwards, away from your mother, just as she raised her hand. Half a second later, your arm was up in front of your face, blocking your mother’s arm from reaching you, and her features were full of anger and shock.

“How dare you do this to me?! I feed you!! I clothe you!!! You are so fucking disrespectful, I hate you!!!”

Your mother stared at you for a few moments that seemed like centuries, and then rapidly walked away from you, back into the living room to your siblings. You immediately went back to your room, stepping quietly on the wooden floor and silently closing the door behind you. You don’t even bother turning the light on, and you immediately slide down the wall, breathing hard from the adrenaline as a few tears escape your eyes. *I am so tired of this.*

You hear angry yelling from the living room, and then your name is being shouted. You quickly wipe your tears and then find the glass of water on your table to put some on your eyes. Unless you want to be screamed at more, you had to make sure your mother wouldn’t find out you cried. You walked out of the room as quietly as you cane in and appeared in the doorway to the living room.

“How dare you do this?!!! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She was pointing at a broken vase, and now you were just.. very confused. “Well, don’t just stand there!!! Answer me, you ungrateful bitch!!!”

“I didn’t do this, I -“

“SHUT UP!!! I get that you’re being a bitch, but breaking things?! Have you been fucking crying? You are so fucking stupid, I am NOTHING but good to you!!! Go to your fucking room. Now. I don’t want to see you.” Her voice suddenly went cold, and you kept your eyes trained on the floor as you almost ran back to your room.

The next day, when she came home and you had already made food for yourself, she started crying while making soup. You couldn’t care less, except for the brief flash of guilt you felt when she began crying. That was something she often did: first, hurt you, and then act like you were the one in the wrong. You’ve never heard her apologize to you about anything.

For the next week, your mother didn’t speak a word to you. You refused to be the one who breaks the silence first, because obviously, she didn’t need you, but you sure as hell didn’t need her help. A few days ago, you finally got yourself a summer job that kept you occupied from 8am to 3pm, and you were quite happy about it. When you were done, you hung out at a nearby café, messaging friends or meeting up with some, but most days, like today, you sat there alone.

You were doing research on Ophiocordyceps Unilateralis, the zombie fungus, when you realized you were so concentrated that you hadn’t noticed a man was standing beside you. Taking your headphones off, you looked up to see the face of the man: it was Tony Stark. What was he doing at this small café? Why was he standing there? You had many questions, but the biggest one was: *why in the absolute fuck is he staring at me?*

“Hey, sorry, is this seat taken?”, he asked, pointing to the empty one at your table.

Too shaken up to say anything, you shook your head. He smiled at you and sat down. You looked around and saw that most of the seats weren’t taken.

“So you’re probably wondering why I sat here, of all places, right? I just saw what you’re reading and it seemed nice”, he says, still smiling, coffee in hand. “So what’s a kid like you doing researching a zombie fungus? Isn’t school out? It’s summer.”

“Oh, yeah.. I, uh, I actually really like biology, though I’ve never loved physics or chemistry. School’s out, I’m just.. I’m kinda doing this for fun”, you awkwardly manage to say, avoiding eye contact.

“Interesting. Actually, I might know someone who would probably talk to you about this for a while. He was going on about how insane insects are all morning. He likes talking about the multiverse theory, amongst other things. Wanna meet him? Pretty sure he’d be your age.”

“I, uh, sure, if I wouldn’t be bothering him.. I mean, he’s probably busy, though, and -“

“Kid, he’ll be thrilled if he gets another person to talk to about this, especially the zombie ants, and the spider one. Trust me. It’s okay. He’s at the Stark tower. Come on, take your stuff. I promise I’m not trying to be creepy. You just seem like someone he’d be friends with. He has, like, two friends. I’m worried about him.”

“It.. really kinda seems like you’re one step away from adopting him”, you say as you gather up your laptop and put everything in your backpack.

Tony looked a you with a “Maybe so” grin and you walked out together. He kept trying to keep the conversation going, but quickly understood that you’re trying really hard not to visibly panic and stopped asking questions. He started talking about a new thing he was currently working on.

The Stark tower was already really close, and he held the door open for you when you got there. You felt uneasy, letting someone do that for you, but you smiled and mumbled a weak “thanks” while looking at the floor. When you came in, you looked back to make sure that he was still walking with you, that it wasn’t a trick to let you get lost, that it wasn’t something you’ll be ridiculed for later.

“So, kid, you ever been here before? Anyway, what’s your name?”

“I, uh, I haven’t, actually.. My name’s Y/N”, you reply, already getting used to Tony calling you “kid”. You were a teenager, after all, and for some reason, you didn’t mind it that much when he was the one who said it. You both walked into the lift, and he was already looking at the buttons.

“Hm, cool name. Right, fifteenth floor.. here we go. Hold on tight, Y/N.”

You tightly gripped the handle in the lift, and before you knew it, you were already on the right floor. Kind of dizzy, you went out of the lift.

“You alright there, Y/N?”, Tony asked with concern in his voice.

You nodded, and then looked up onto the floor with amazement. There were advanced models of computers, headphones, and any kind of electronic device you could find. Well, maybe not everything, but there was a lot, anyway.

“Holy shit.” The words got out of your mouth before you could think about it, and you were immediately scared. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Hey, it’s okay. I swear a lot. Just don’t do it around Steve. Rogers. Steve Rogers. Captain America. He’s going to go “language” at ya. It’s hilarious, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want a lecture from an old grandpa who looks like a thirty year old”, Tony said, chuckling.

“Hey! I heard that, you know”, a familiar voice yelled out through the room and you flinched without meaning to. You searched the room, only to see actual Captain America just walking up to you and Tony. *Holy fuck. What the fuck. What the absolute fuck.*

“Steeeeeeeeeve, you can’t say I’m wrong though”, Tony said.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh my god Steve you said fuck”, whispered Tony. “Peter! Peter, Steve said fuck! Peter I know you’re in here, come here, kid! I found a person who’s interested in the, what’s it called, the, you know, zombie fungus, the one you were going on about last week.”

Half a second later, a teenage guy practically ran up to you with a wide smile on his face. “Mister Captain, ah no, Mister America, wait, Mister Rogers, language! You remembered? Thank you, mister Stark! You didn’t have to do that though, I don’t know how I can -“

“Peter, just.. here, here you go, here’s the person”, Stark said, “I just want you to have more friends, okay? I was at the usual café and they were just researching the fungus. So I just brought them here.”

“Thank you!” He looked at Tony, whose smile warmed as he said: “Sure, kid.” Peter hugged him with a good amount of force and then put his fist in the air and whispered “Yess”.

You smiled at this sight.

“So, Peter, this is Y/N, and Y/N, well, this is Peter Parker”, Tony formally introduced you to each other.

Peter nodded at you excitedly, and you returned a smile, despite how tired you were already feeling.

“So, I heard mister Stark saw you researching the zombie fungus, ophio-“

“-cordyceps unilateralis, yeah! It’s fascinating! Sorry for interrupting, I didn’t mean to, I just -“

Peter’s eyes lit up as he continued your sentence. “Get really excited about things? Yeah, me too! It’s insane! I mean, that nature does all these things, and there’s different kinds of this virus that affects different insects!”

“Yeah! And when it’s the one involving the ants, it makes the ant go bite the underside of a leaf, and apparently it’s still unknown how it convinces the ant to do that! And it’s so awesome that it’s called the “death grip”, I mean, obviously it’s because the ant has no choice but to wait for death, but it’s a really cool expression!”

“I like you, you’re pretty cool, Y/N”, Peter finally said.

“Oh, uh, thank you..? You’re cool too”, you reply, feeling guilty, like you’ve fooled him into thinking you’re smart. You’ve always felt uneasy when someone complimented you.

“Nerds”, Tony whispered happily.

Steve shot him a look, and Tony immediately said that he needed to go do something. They both went into the lift and disappeared, leaving you with Peter. You checked your watch. 4:17pm. You’d need to be home by 6 if you didn’t want to get into any more trouble than usual.

“There’s a good coffee machine here, if you want”, Peter awkwardly said. You addressed him an awkward smile and shrugged. “Alright, uh, there’s, there’s video games here. Do you play?” You nodded and he immediately gestured for you to follow him as he walked towards a big tv surrounded with games.

He pointed to one of those lying on a small table beside the couch in front of the television. “This one’s one of my favourites, actually. You ever played it?”

“Nope. But I’m definitely willing to try. Is there a multiplayer option?”, you said, a bit more confident in yourself.

“Hell yeah! Shall we?”, he asked, and you took a controller for the game in response.

An hour and a half passed by as you and Peter played the video game, and you were having a lot of fun. You were actually smiling more often than you had in the past few months. At least, this time, this was a real smile.

You checked your watch, and it was now 5:49pm. *Shit*, you thought, “Hey, I’m really enjoying this, but I have to go”, you said, trying your best to hide the worry in your voice as you detached the controller from your wrist. You immediately took your backpack and turned back to Peter. “I could come back here tomorrow though, after work again. If you want me to. I, uh, I enjoyed hanging out. With you.”

“Sure! Good luck, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah.. Thank you”, you smiled, and then immediately ran towards the life, pushing the button and waiting as panic rose up in you. In a few seconds, you were in the lift, and soon after, you were sprinting out of the Stark Tower in your apartment’s direction.

You were already at the door by 5:59, and you took your keys out to unlock the door. As soon as you came in, you saw your mother, sitting on the couch in the living room, arms crossed, face angry, and staring straight at you. She got up and walked menacingly towards you. “Where the fuck were you?!” You lowered your gaze and stayed silent. “I asked you a question! I expect an answer!” She grabbed your forearm hard and refused to let go.

Your mind quickly searched for an easy lie to keep up, and came up with: “I was doing a bit of overtime because one of my coworkers had to leave early.”

Your mother let your arm go, scoffed, and walked away after standing there calling you names for a few minutes, inevitably now back to completely ignoring you. That was a relief, no matter how much it hurt.

You quietly went to your room and took out your phone and earphones, connecting them by Bluetooth and starting to play music. After a few minutes, you took the headphones off for a moment, just to make sure it wasn’t easy to hear the music for someone not currently wearing the headphones, because you knew your mother would be pissed at that.

A few hours later, after writing for a while and then reading almost a hundred pages of a book, you fell asleep. It didn’t even bother you that you forgot to have dinner at this point. You were too tired to be able to socialize, or even be in the same room, with your mother. Anyway, you needed sleep. You hadn’t been able to sleep properly in a long time, always waking up several times each hour or getting nightmares that left you sweaty or crying when you woke up. Some things in the nightmares woke you up suddenly. You never told your mother about it because you knew she wouldn’t care or would blame it on you being disrespectful or on your electronic devices.

#avengers x reader #avengers x reader fanfic #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #avengers self insert fanfic #gimme feedback #comments and reblogs are especially appreciated #idc if you comment barely makes sense and has no verbs #if it’s just “I like” or “how dare”#I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted here and I’m sorry #but brain tired and refusing to Do Things

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scarlettswxtch · 5 years

Text

Darkest Side of Me | 2

Characters: Bucky x Reader / Steve x Reader

Summary: You’re recruited as a new Avenger with powers unlike any other. With a tragic past blurred from birth, who will be at your side when you realise who you truly are?

Word count: 2,400

A/N: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL POST. Lol. So sorry to anyone who wondered what happened but please let me know if you enjoy the Bucky and Steve thing or if you’d prefer a Bucky x Reader only fic. I apologise for any spelling mistakes in advance.

On another note, I’m terrible at summaries 😬. It’s changed from my first one if you remember it, just felt like it didn’t describe it well enough. Hope you guys enjoy anyway!! (P.S. I’m SUPER sorry for the late posting I’ve been so busy). Message me if you’d like to be on the tag list :)

Warnings: This fanfiction is M Rated, and the men (really only Steve and Bucky) will all be dominant guys, if you’re into that sorta thing. So..beware cause some chapters may be smutty ;)

DARKEST SIDE OF ME

PART 1

You woke as the sun rises like a canopy of gold, bright amid the blue, bidding the stars to take their nightly rest. As darkness surrenders, every colour changes from tinges of charcoal to a vibrancy.

A third cup of coffee was now nestled perfectly into your hands as you stood outside the compound’s kitchen balcony. The avenger’s facility was truly impeccable with its finely trimmed grass fields and blue coastal views. When you had returned from your encounter with Bucky, you sat in bed restlessly, wondering what was so magnetic about him. After millennia of being alive, encountering countless beings, human and alien alike, none of them had made you feel such a strong state of wonder as that damned soldier. There was something about him - his gaze, how it so daringly held yours, the way his presence could make your heart skip, mind wonder. It was ridiculous. He was a stranger you had met merely 24 hours ago. Yet, it was intriguing, made you want to know more. It was seldom someone made you feel this way and you wondered what the fates were trying to tell you.

You closed your eyes to the lullaby of the ocean, breathing in its poignant salty breath, sighing in silent content. Quiet mornings were your most cherished part of the day.

“Mornin’.” You hear behind you. Startled, you whirl around and almost spill your coffee everywhere. A splash of it lands on the floor and thankfully not on you. You’d think a goddess would have a little more grace than this, you think to yourself and scowl at the now brown spot on an otherwise perfectly pristine floor.

Your eyes turn to meet a lovely pair of wonderfully azure orbs now shining with amusement. You gather yourself, your scowl deepening...which apparently only adds to his amusement because he chuckles.

“Good morning, Captain.” You say, unimpressed with his humour. Inner you squealed at his sudden presence. Steve Rodgers was like a GQ model with all the charm in the world.

He sauntered over to your side, keeping a friendly, and (unfortunately) professional distance. “How you settling in?” He says, his eyes level to yours.

You didn’t miss his loose grey t-shirt, which quite frankly did nothing to hide his very obvious god-like build. The muscles of his biceps flexed with every slight movement and damn if you didn’t want to reach out and take your time tracing each ridge with your fingertips. Maybe even your tongue. You wouldn’t be opposed to either. Jesus Christ this guy was hot.

Your eyes snapped to his. If he noticed you checking him out, he gratefully didn’t show it. Although, you assumed he was used to swooning women. “Fine,” you said, your voice holding a hint of hoarseness that he didn’t miss. “Might take a little getting used to, but everyone seems great” you finished, with a smile.

Steve nodded and gave you a smile of his own. “Yeah it can be tough, first coupla days”.

“The whole welcome committee made me feel more at ease”

“Yeah, you stick around long enough they’ll start to feel like family” he said sympathetically, correctly guessing family was a sore spot for you.

Your eyes turned to him, unsurprised “You read my file.”

“Always do my homework on new recruits” he explained “Fury runs files through us before approval...it’s not often someone gets recommended for the team. When Fury found out about you, and what you could do, he wanted you on board ASAP. We didn’t protest.”

You raised a brow “So I got the Tony and Cap stamp of approval? I’m flattered”

He grins “No doubt your file is quite impressive, the team could definitely use someone like you on our side. Thor didn’t seem thrilled with the idea the idea, though. He protested to say the least.”

You chuckled, but there was nothing but bitterness behind it “Yes. I can imagine” He raised a brow and you looked away from him in memory. It didn’t go unnoticed that he wasn’t part of your welcome party last night. Odin disliked you for reasons unbeknownst - Thor and you were the best of friends, once upon a time. He took pity on you, swearing to convince his father to allow you refuge on Asgard. Days later, he returned with a wary look on his face, claiming to know ‘who you really are’. You never saw him again.

“Long story,” You told Steve.

His hand gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and his next words were said like velvet, “If you ever need to talk, I have all the time in the world. Literally,” you appreciated Steve, he was like a beacon of safety and warmth. The kinda guy that would take your deepest, darkest secrets to the grave because he promised.

You smiled at him warmly. It was unlikely you’d take him up on that, but you were grateful for his sincerity. “I’ll keep that in mind” He simply nods in response.

Moments later, he sighs loudly before downing all his coffee, placing the cup on the table beside him and turning to you with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Wanna spar?” He asks, both hands on hips and lips tipped up in challenge. You raise a surprised eyebrow and he grins “What? Scared you’ll lose?”

You chuckle, appreciating the change of topic. “I see you didn’t do all your homework on me, Captain” you say, placing your unfinished coffee on the table. You levelled his challenging gaze with your own, “Both know I could beat you with my eyes closed” you retort, teasingly, and he smiles with wonderful curiosity.

“I did read your file. Thoroughly” he retorts, stepping closer to you. You suddenly felt very small against his ridiculously tall frame. “You’re enhanced. Healing powers, fast reflexes, better than any Soviet-trained assassin according to SHIELD” he stopped with pointed humour “although I’m sure Bucky and Natasha will contest that”, that made you scoff. “Besides, new recruits need training”

“I’m impressed. Although I think you’ll find your time as a popsicle has nothing on my literal thousand-year-old experience.” You said with a grin

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it?” He asked with a hearty laugh and right then you were certain no galaxy in the world could show you anything more pleasant.

“Hey, you started it Cap, I’m known for my retribution”

“I’m sure you’ll go easy on me” he adds.

You gave him a smirk “No promises”

~~~

“You okay down there, Cap?” You say, your voice trembling with humour.

Steve Rodgers looks up at you from the hard floor of the training room. Salty droplets flow down his face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the concrete as he sits to regain his breath.

He lets out a huffed breath and repeats your earlier words “I’m impressed”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes shining with obvious pride. You had just taken down the world’s favourite golden boy with nothing but a few fight moves. Needless to say, Cap had some good moves of his own and had almost got you down a few times. Then again, you are of a completely superior alien race, so you’d give him some credit.

“Well, not like Fury to employ any average gal- “you began, before a strong hand wrapped around your ankle and you were suddenly falling down, moments away from head butting the floor before strong hands wrapped around your waist, guiding you to land quite snug on Steve’s lap.

He gave you an amused look “You were saying?” Suddenly, you were very aware of his warm hands against your waist and you couldn’t think of a better feeling.

Actually...maybe you could...because right now your hands were resting on his chest and holy hell does it feel nice. All you wanted to do was rip off his shirt and set it ablaze. In fact, you wanted to march to his room and set all of his shirts ablaze. It would be a blessing to all humankind to watch Steve Rodgers walk around shirtless, all the time...24/7...would definitely add years onto someone’s life. Especially if they had their hands on him, just like this.

He squeezes you as if you gain your attention, his eyes twinkling with amusement because he had very obviously caught you checking out his chest. You blinked, sure enough your cheeks were now stained pink. Thank god mind reading wasn’t on his resume.

You cleared your throat “You distracted me, that’s cheating. Besides, I’m not using any of my abilities on you. Fair game and everything” you finish with a smirk.

“Thought you weren’t going easy on me?” He said teasingly.

“You could’ve let me fall and you didn’t.”

He grins “Yeah, I had a good reason”.

You raised a brow “And what would that be?”

You feel his hands softly squeeze your bare waist and your breath hitches. “Didn’t wanna ruin that pretty face of yours, darlin’” he says, and inner you sighs in upmost content. Well...damn. Safe to say Captain America could charm anyone’s pants off. You were just happy this time they were yours. His hands move lower, thumb now drawing circles against your back and you feel your mind wonder to places it shouldn’t. Gosh his eyes are nice, and you’d be damned if his face wasn’t even more beautiful up close. You were dazed, and if you weren’t mistaken, so was he because his eyes glazed over with a very familiar look of lust. Perhaps if you just leaned a little clo-

“Well don’t you two look cosy” you hear from the doorway and your head whips around to meet an icy cold stare. Bucky Barnes. What terrible timing.

You promptly lift yourself off Steve, almost giving yourself whiplash, hand shooting out to hold the bars of the ring. You clear your throat. “We were just sparring” you explain, and frown to yourself. Why did you feel the urge to justify yourself to this man?

He lifted an eyebrow “If that’s how you spar, doll, you’ll have the whole house lining up for a piece of that”

Your eyes narrow. Did he just -. Your mouth opens, but before you can reply he cuts you off: “Stark wants us at the conference room in 5. So, when you two love-birds are done ‘sparring’” he says, pointedly air-quoting the last word and your eyes narrow further “we’ll be waiting for you”. And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

You turned to Steve and your look of disbelief must’ve been evident on your face because he chuckles as he lifts himself off the floor. “Don’t mind him, he’s always grumpy.” He walks out of the ring, suddenly turning to you all Captain America like as if he didn’t just have you on his lap 2 minutes ago. “Get cleaned up”, he throws a towel at you “I’ll see you in the conference room in 3” and with that, he leaves, and you’re left wondering if all super soldiers are this perplexing.

~~~

The conference room was nice to say the least. Tony Stark did nothing half-way. You were watching him with all his authority and confidence, but your thoughts were a million miles away. Cap sat at the head of the table and you could see his lips form words your mind wasn’t quite registering. Probably not a great idea considering this was your first mission debriefing. Your thoughts were in fact on the man opposite you. His metal hand tapping restlessly on the table, you could tell he was paying as much attention as you were. You tilted your head in silent wonder and observed him with careful consideration. If the hard line on his lips and slight frown were anything to go by, something was bothering him, and you could tell.

He doesn’t look any less gorgeous when he’s annoyed, by the way. If anything, it added to the masculinity of his features; hard jaw clenching deliciously, eyes miraculously darker, that perpetual murderous look in his face magnetised by a million. Jesus Christ you felt like a teenager. Why are these stupid, gorgeous super soldiers taking up all your damned thoughts?

You didn’t know what it was about Steve either. His in-your-face all-star golden boy beauty was fucking gut wrenching. He was sweet, ever-so welcoming, he joked, had this calm, comforting aura that made you feel warm and lovely. Like you knew him all your life - as if he were your long-lost best friend your soul wanted to hold onto with every ounce of her being. Your eyes flickered to him and you watched as his mouth made yet more unheard words. Your interaction earlier had been unprecedented. Sure, you were attracted to him, but who wasn’t? Steve Rodgers is Adonis embodied and every woman knew it. He was blinding and warm like the sun.

And Bucky...he was different. The complete paradox of Steve. Bloody beautiful in all the rough ways. There was nothing in-your-face about him, no. He was mysterious, extraordinarily so. There was nothing light about him - just stormy, agonising beauty. You could tell he was that intense guy. The kind women would look at and want just because he looked dangerous. Just because they knew he’d give them the ride of their lives and probably break their heart on the way, but it didn’t matter cause that was part of the adventure. The guy that would wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze until you were on your knees, clawing for breath while telling him how every inch of you belonged to him. Then he’d fuck you bloody just to prove it.

You watched him with a calculated gaze. You had only brief interactions with him but every one of them felt like eternity between you and those icy blue whirlpools of his. There was much more to the Winter Solider than his cold, broody exterior and you wanted to dive deep inside that ocean of his mind and uncover them.

His eyes turned to you then. He had obviously felt you staring. He raised an annoyed brow in question, and you said nothing, just looked away in silent consideration.

Natasha poked your thigh from beside you and you turned to her, her green eyes held a mischievous glint as her eyes flickered to Steve, then Bucky, and then you in silent questioning. You rolled your eyes; she had clearly sensed your distraction and your very obvious staring at the two soldiers probably confirmed whatever thoughts she was having. Damn Widow always noticed everything. She smirked, mouthing “Later” and her eyes promised an incoming, post-brief interrogation. Metal note to nicely ask Natasha to debrief you on the debriefing too.

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