#lotta rambling here but. man i just really like these little pink things. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bobabees · 1 year

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Part 1: “Oh! I Think That I Found Myself A Cheerleader!”

A/N: i don’t want to risk losing all my work so KDJKSNS—this will be split into multiple parts for each character i plan to write for! i hope you all like it!!

Summary: it’s been a month since the arrival of the cheerleader, and there have been a flurry of emotions and discussions amongst the other survivors ever since. the cheerleader, despite their quite deadly circumstances, tries to adjust into this new environment and to cheer and support their fellow survivors to the best of their ability!

CW: mentions of gore, might be a little ooc, i’m not sure KEBDNNS o(╥﹏╥)o

Genre: slight angst + fluff

Anne Lester x GN Cheerleader Survivor

Word Count: 2,328 words

“Y/N!—be careful,” Anne had let out a soft laughed as she watched them flinch at the sounds of the cipher before quickly readjusting their stance and narrowing their eyes at the keys, “at the rate you’re going, you’ll get us caught. Remember, don’t rush.” She lightly instructed as her eyes followed the way their fingers reluctantly pressed into the keys, the slow yet harsh clicking against the cipher as the dials turned, the electrical pole that looked over them shook with each movement.

“I’m sorry I just—it can be a lil’ tough sometimes,” They gave a sheepish smile, looking up at Anne who, in response, pointed a gaze back down at the cipher, as if gesturing them to focus. “Tryna get used to ‘em and all,” They huffed a bit, causing the toy merchant to let out another laugh as she tried to decode the cipher with them. “I wanna go fast and get this over with but—I also don’t wanna screw up and make some noise and have Antonio come after us—what a mess that’ll be.” They groaned, their right eye twitched ever so slightly at the memory of him chasing after them earlier. “I barely escaped if it weren’t for Ganji—man, he’s really good with that bat, y’know? I’m pretty sure he’s saved me like—a hundred times! And I’ve only been here for a month!” They exasperated “A month, and I can’t get the hang of this kiting thing-“

“You’ll get used to it, trust me, it’s easier over time.”

“For you!” They blurted out with a grin as they adjusted one of the spinning dials and hit the cipher, “I mean, you’re a complete natural at that, honestly, sometimes I think you’re totally cheating.” They joked lightly as they glanced at the open spaces, checking if Antonio was anywhere near them.

“You flatter me, Y/N,” Anne shook her head in response, her lips twitching upwards in a slightly prideful smile “But I’m not as good as you think, there are others much better at kiting than I,” Her last words faltered when she heard a sharp laugh from them, feeling them nudge their elbow against her arm clumsily as an attempt to focus on both the cipher and her. “Y/N!”

“Oh, don’t be like that! You’re incredible with this stuff—Sure, there’s loads of good kiters n’ all, but between you and me?” They comically leaned their head closer to Anne, an excited whisper slipping through their proud grin, “I’d say you’re one of the best! I mean, come on! Have you seen the way you kite?” They questioned, Anne knitting here eyebrows in response, she never saw it as anything special—what she said was true, at least, she believed it was—there were much better kiters than her.

But before she could even question their words, they continued on with their ramble “The way you move, quickly navigating through each and every path—how you take full advantage of your surroundings—oh, and how you ready your catapult so quickly and launch into the air? And hold yourself up for that long?” They breathed out, stars practically shimmering in their eyes, unable to take notice of the way Anne’s cheeks began to turn a pale pink. “That takes a whole lotta skill, seriously, and you put in a lot of effort in what you do! Anyone can tell! You literally kited the Will Brothers!—the Will Brothers!—for like—15 minutes total!” They nearly shivered at their words, shaking their head at the memory of their first time encountering the Will Brothers, as fascinating as their skills were, which of course they complimented, they would be lying if they said they hadn’t been scared out of their wits. “I mean, how can you not be considered one of the best?” They chortled, their eyes glued on the set of keys instead of the increasingly flustered woman next to them.

It wasn’t until the cipher shook violently for a moment and sparked, did they flinch and finally tore their gaze away from the cipher and taking notice of Anne who had similarly flinched by the sudden spark. “Oh jeez—I’m sorry, I wasn’t-“

“No no, it’s fine—it was my fault, actually,” Anne cleared her throat, cheeks now a rosy pink as she shifted her gaze to one of the openings, catching a glimpse of the abnormally tall hunter glance their direction and begin to make his way. “I think you should go, I’ll finish this one.”

“Are you sure? I-I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?” They stammered slightly, hand reaching out to place a comforting grip on her wrist but had pulled away immediately when Anne’s eyes swiftly took notice of their movements, but soon settled on them, softening at their words. “Anne?”

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong—I just—Antonio’s close,” Anne muttered as she began to decode, finishing up the last few bits, as she said she would. Chuckling the moment they began to whip their head around frantically to see the hunter before tensing the moment they saw him nearing their location. “Please, don’t worry, I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, need to go off and do another cipher, I believe Emil is decoding just west from here.” Anne recalled.

They fidgeted in place slightly, a nervous smile plastered on their face as they looked back at Antonio, cringing under eerie smile before turning to Anne, who had a more comforting smile. “Well—if you say so! You know way more than me so—“ they fumbled with their words as they gave a more optimistic grin “I mean you can handle yourself just fine, you’re that cool after all! And—well, you’re really experienced—with this stuff!-“ They rambled a bit, somehow sounding as if they were very much reassuring themselves instead of simply complimenting the toy merchant. “Just—holler my name if you need me, okay? I’ve got your back!” They beamed as they placed a hand on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze given as they moved away, “I believe in you!! You got this right in the bag!” They waved before running off quickly. “Take care!”

“I will!” She called out, a flustered grin on her face forming as she popped the ciphered and gave Antonio a challenging glare—she didn’t know what went over her, to challenge a hunter when he was this close—was it because of their encouraging words? Their ramble that came from pure adoration? Either way, she felt a fire in her chest, one that didn’t dim before the presence of the hunter but rather, fuelled her mind and energy as she sprinted off to steer him away from the cipher they had gone to.

‘I’m not going to make it!—‘ Anne gritted her teeth, her eyes wincing in pain as stray tears slipped down her cheeks, hair sticking to her forehead that was coated sweat, her hand clutching to her side, feeling the warmth blossom with each step she took, sinking into her clothes and making the side of her corset a much darker shade of red. She could hear the ominous humming and tugging of strings that followed, a sharp noise piercing the tense air as a crimson note formed in front of her, followed by an amused laugh.

Her breathing hitched as she turned a harsh left into the dilapidated church, stumbling in her steps as she heard his shoes clicking quickly behind her. The toy merchant eyeing an unused pallet and made her way to it, a quiet whimper leaving her lips as she had passed through out, ducking to avoid Antonio’s bow before pulling down the pallet in front of him, deterring his movements and making him curse in response. Taking this opportunity, she had quickly wobbled her way to the front left side of the church and vaulting over the window before turning a right.

“The exit gate is opened!” Anne gasped, hearing their voice familiar echo through the air like a melody one would simply hear walking by the sidewalk, a sense of relief knowing they would be able to make it out as she began to make her way towards the exit gate. She could hear Antonio curse under his breath as he struggled to vault over the window with his tall stature before continuing his pursuit.

It felt like an eternity, constantly crisscrossing past the walls and vaults, using the unbroken and unused pallets available, which weren’t many—and having close calls with Antonio’s bow or his music notes. She was nearing exhaustion, the thought of just collapsing and letting him drag her to a rocket chair began to sound much more pleasant as time went on. However—something stopped her as she caught a glimpse of them waiting anxiously by the exit gate through the gaps of the walls.

The moment their eyes had locked into each other, she watched as they hollered her name “Anne!-“

“What are you still doing here?! Go!—We’ll still win!” She choked out as she vaulted once more, her heart beating faster as Antonio’s bow sharply brushed against her forearm, he had missed her by an inch. Frustration bubbling in her chest when she noticed they hadn’t moved from their spot, “Y/N, just go!-“

“I’m not leaving you! I don’t care if we’ll win, it’s not right!” They retorted, restraining themselves from running to her as their right leg quivered under their weight, the clumsily wrapped wound burning as they took a step forward. “Your catapult! You have one left, right?”

“I won’t make it!-“

“You will! I know you will!—please!” They pleaded, their eyes sparkling with the same determination and firmness that shone when they had rambled on about her earlier in the match. “I know you can do it! You can! It’s the last stretch, you can do it! You’re Anne Lester!” They cheered, their throat aching but they had ignored it, too focused on the scene before them with Anne creating some distance. “Come on! You got this! I know you do!”

Anne cursed under her breath, her heart pounding, and it was no longer because of Antonio who trailed behind her, but because of their words. She risked a glance back, seeing him break down a pallet that had been in his way, quickly, she pulled out her catapult and placed it on the ground, preparing it before reluctantly becoming aware of her wound at her side and her increasing exhaustion. Their words echoed in their mind as she took a firm step on her catapult before launching herself in the air, a frustrated ‘no!’ came from Antonio as he stretched bow out, the strings cutting her ankle as she stretched her wooden wings in the air, a quiet cry leaving her as her ankle stung.

The cold air flooding through her wounds and sinking into her as she held an iron grip on the handle, blood staining the soft pastel colours as she watched them cheer loudly. “Yes!—yes yes yes! Go Anne! You can do this! Just a little bit more!” They hollered, a weak smile gracing her face as she slowly glided over the walls. Maybe she was going to make it—she was close—so close—she felt her fingers slipping from the handle gradually, panicked eyes glancing at what was happening before looking back at them, who similarly began to realise what was about to happen. “J-Just hang on a bit longer! I know you can!—just—“ They stopped, seeing the oncoming musical note before moving quickly to their right, hissing at the burning sensation on their leg.

“Y/N, just go!-“

“No! I’m waiting for you! Now, come on!” They yelled back, hearing Antonio grow closer, anxiously glancing at both the hunter and Anne, who was thankfully closer to the ground. Just a bit more!—Just a few more seconds! They could hear the laboured gasps from Anne—until finally, her hands had given in to the weight and pressure and had let go of the handle.

“Anne!-“ They shrieked before rushing over, stretching their arms and ignoring the pain as they caught Anne in their arms. Stumbling back, their body threatening to give in and let them fall due to the sudden weight thrown on them, their leg screaming a bright red as their shoes dug into the dirt. “You’re okay! You did it—!!“ they blurted out as their arms tightened around her waist, feeling her frame lean against them heavily as she groaned in response. They forced themselves through the pain, adjusting their grip on Anne quickly to carry her in a bridal style before running to the exit gate, sparing a glance back at Antonio who was startled by the wooden wings that collapsed in front of him and felt the wind blow it in his direction, watching him swat it away harshly in annoyance.

“Good match, Antonio! See you later!” Normally, they would have given a more sincere compliment to Antonio by now before leaving the match, just like they had done with the previous hunters—but their attention was more onto Anne, who struggled to stay awake. They unconsciously held her tighter as they let out a heave, “You did amazing—seriously! I’m so proud of you—I told you, you’re one of the best!—“ they blurted out, attempting to distract Anne from her pain before feeling Anne’s arm weakly pat their shoulder. “It’s okay! We—We’ll go to Emily and have you patched up, okay? I got you—I got your back-“

The gesture, which was mistaken as a sign to hurry up, was filled with nothing but gratefulness and returning adoration to the cheerleader, an exhausted yet jubilant smile formed on her lips as she found herself slowly agreeing to their words of praise.

Maybe she was one of the best, after all.

#anne lester #idv anne #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x reader #gender neutral x reader #anne lester idv #the toy merchant #idv toy merchant #idv toy merchant x reader

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

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Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Twelve)

Summary: Jack and (Y/N) get themselves into a very complicated situation while undercover at The Palladium.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Twelve The Palladium, Los Angeles (Previous Chapter)

As a direct result of everything he’d seen and experienced during his twenty-eight years of life, Jack Thompson was rarely one to be taken by surprise; he’d fought in one of the largest wars the world had ever seen, witnessed some of the greatest and deadliest technological advancements of his generation and even learned of the existence of multiple dimensions within their universe. But he had to admit, almost everything about that Friday evening had blown his socks off and he wasn’t too sure how much more he could take.

The first surprise of the day came from his afternoon telephone call from the New York branch of the SSR; ever since the Zero Matter situation back in July, Jack’s second-in-command Agent Cabrera had taken over as Acting Chief in his absence. It was meant to be a temporary assignment but it was unexpectedly extended when Jack was shot and the SSR opened their investigation into it. Cabrera was a competent agent and the New York branch had continued to run smoothly in Jack’s absence but during his weekly check-in telephone call, Agent Cabrera warned him that some of the higher-ups in D.C. were growing impatient with his ‘extended vacation’ and that they were considering forcing Sousa to close his case and send Jack back to New York if no evidence turned up by the end of the month. Although Jack had expected his case to eventually be closed he hadn’t counted on the deadline being so soon, so there was even more riding on the outcome of their undercover mission than he originally thought.

The second surprise occurred when he and (Y/N) were preparing to leave for The Palladium; Stark had been busy showing Jack the various special features of his tan ’47 Buick Super, the car they’d be using to fit in with the glitz and glamor of the nightclub. Just when Jack was rolling his eyes at Stark’s ‘sock on the doorknob’ feature, he caught sight of (Y/N) as she entered the car lot and his jaw nearly hit the floor; she was dressed in an elegant pink gown that flattered her figure and showed off way more of her body than he’d ever seen before, and although she was glancing away from him, he could still see the dazzling smile that illuminated her face. He hastily turned his attention back to Stark’s rambling when she started looking their way lest she see his dumbfounded expression, but his heart continued to hammer in his chest. Ever since their contentious first meeting at the SSR, Jack had secretly maintained that (Y/N) was an attractive woman but seeing her dressed like she’d just walked off the Silver Screen was a very jarring reminder of his steadily-growing romantic feelings for his partner.

And if not for their current and very serious predicament, Jack would immediately label the third surprise of the night as the most eye-opening of them all; (Y/N), who was a far better undercover agent than she ever thought she’d be, suggested they take to the dance floor to better blend into the crowd. As they danced, she admitted that she’d been hiding herself away from the world she’d spent years fighting for and in that instant, Jack was hit with the stark realization that he’d been doing the exact same thing. Sure, he’d go out drinking and would occasionally take a woman out on the town but outside of his co-workers, he truly didn’t have any friends and for the past couple of years, he hadn’t exactly been close with his family. Work was all he’d had since the end of the war, and it was clear to see why that was: he’d always hear other soldiers say that war medals can way a man down, but what about medals earned through dishonesty and cowardice?

But Jack didn’t have very much time for an existential crisis, since he was quickly spotted exiting the kitchens by the security guard, and it was just his luck that the man seemed to know exactly who he was and instantly gave chase. In that moment, Jack’s only real plan was to grab (Y/N) and get the hell out of there but thanks to him, they were trapped in a wardrobe not ten feet away from one crime boss and two suspected Hydra-turned-Secret-Empire agents. The chances of them getting out of The Palladium alive weren’t too great; their back-up had already left and all they had on them were two six-shooters, a tube of forgetfulness lipstick and their brains. Fingers crossed that that’s all we’ll need, Jack thought to himself, tearing his gaze away from the wardrobe door to look down at (Y/N)’s horrorstruck face.

As the men continued their pleasantries, Jack tapped a quick Morse Code message out against the bare skin of her arm before releasing his hold on her, albeit with some slight reluctance. Moving as quietly as he could, Jack crept forward and took a knee at the front of the wardrobe to peek through the large key-hole. Sure enough, he was able to see the three men and a significant portion of the office; the man who had taken a seat behind the large desk Jack recognized as Martin ‘Lefty’ Stompanato, a small-time crime boss from Queens. When Jack first started at the SSR, Chief Dooley brought Stompanato and a handful of his crew in for questioning in regards to a suspected mob hit on one of their scientists but they were quickly released due to a lack of evidence. I’ll bet he moved his operation out here not long after, Jack thought to himself as his gaze moved to the next man, so that’s why his bodyguard recognized me. Thanks to all the photographs he’d seen of the British man in the files he’d spent hours poring over, Jack could recognize the arrogant smirk of Thomas Attwell a mile away. Seriously, who’s teeth are that white, he wondered, rolling his eyes before glancing at the third man in the room; he was facing away from him, having already taken a seat in the chair opposite Stompanato, so Jack couldn’t verify just yet if he really was Michael Carter.

“So, word on the street is that your doo-hickey can work miracles.”

Thomas chuckled from his spot against the wall, leaning forward and smiling good-naturedly at the crime boss. “That may be a slight exaggeration, Mr. Stompanato, but the sentiment is greatly appreciated. Would you care for a small demonstration before agreeing to our terms?”

“No, no, I’m good. I promised the club owner I’d leave the place spotless and it’ll be rude of me to go back on that.” Stompanato smirked to himself. “’Sides, I already got a pretty good idea of what it can do; that bank job a few months back was in all the papers, you know. I bet you fellas got a lotta good publicity for your little operation ‘cause of it, huh?”

“Certainly, Mr. Stompanato, though I wouldn’t consider all of it ‘good.’” The third man replied. Although his tone was friendly and conversational, Jack could detect a hint of frustration in his words. “The men we hired were careless, they allowed one of the devices to be fall into the hands of the SSR and risked the premature exposure of our organization; rest assured, though, they’ve been properly taken care of and measures have been put in place to prevent any further blunders.”

Jack watched as Stompanato squirmed in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the third man’s underlying threat and the dark direction their conversation had taken. “Yeah, o-of course. I’ve already had a run-in with the SSR back in New York, ya know, when that son of a bitch Agent Thompson roughed me up and broke my nose…” Jack smirked a little at the memory. “…so you can count on lots of, ah, discretion from us.”

The third man nodded. “Good. Now, as for the terms of the arrangement…”

As all three men discussed the details of their business transaction, Jack felt (Y/N) slowly lower herself to the ground beside him and when she made a gesture towards the keyhole, he scooted over so they could both see out of it.

“…all very straightforward, Mr. Stompanato. Fifty thousand dollars in gold to start with, then a seventy percent cut of each of your criminal ventures for one year and in return, your organization will fall into the protection of the expanding Secret Empire and you’ll be free to keep the devices. All we ask for is your unwavering loyalty, and that you refrain from carelessly abusing our arrangement.”

Thomas nodded in agreement, a smirk beginning to form on his face. “If that happens, then…well, I’m sure you can use your imagination. So, shall we all shake on it?”

Just as Stompanato began reaching over the desk to shake Thomas’ outstretched hand, the office door burst open and the bodyguard from earlier rushed in. “Boss, we’ve got a situation, the fellas caught wind that a couple of feds are here to bust you!”

“Oh, Mr. Stompanato. You thought you could set us up?” Stompanato’s eyes widened and as he began hastily proclaiming his innocence, the third man drew his handgun and shot the crime boss directly in the heart. Jack’s eyes widened and (Y/N) quickly covered her mouth to muffle her horrified gasp, both watching as Stompanato’s body slumped over in the desk chair and was still.

With a brief glance at his shocked partner, Jack leaned closer to the keyhole and observed as the third man stood and turned, nearly gasping himself when he recognized the familiar face of Michael Carter. Familiar, not only because he’d poured over the man’s file more times than he could count, but because Jack only knew of only one other person on Earth that had the same hardened steel in their gaze. As he watched, though, Michael’s expression faltered and twisted in pain but a split-second later and to Jack’s utter confusion, it shifted back to a mask of cold indifference as the sound of the gunshot faded away.

Michael smiled at the bodyguard, who was now pointing his gun at an unbothered Thomas Attwell. “Congratulations, you’ve just been promoted. I trust you overheard our business transaction from out in the hall?” The bodyguard shakily nodded but remained silent. “Splendid. You look like a smart man, so I trust that you’ll make an intelligent decision regarding your future within the next few moments.” The bodyguard glanced at both men and Stompanato’s lifeless body before lowering his gun and hastily shaking Michael’s hand.

“Now that that’s been settled, shall we?” Thomas gestured to the door and as the three men headed towards it added, “Our truck is already parked in the loading dock but we must hurry…”

The men’s voices faded as they exited the office and almost the moment the door closed behind them, Jack and (Y/N) were on their feet and bounding out of the wardrobe. “C’mon, we’ve gotta hurry before they get away-”

“Wait!” Jack whirled around in time to see (Y/N) retrieve the listening device she’d planted underneath the desk and shove it into her clutch. “Okay, let’s go!” They dashed out of the office and hurried down the hallway, skidding to a stop once they reached the small landing that led into the main room. “Do you see them anywhere?”

Jack scanned the lively crowd and quickly managed to spot the three men across the room. “They’re headed towards the kitchens, c’mon!” He shouted over the noise, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand before pulling her down the stairs and into the fray. In that moment, while they ducked and weaved around others, Jack was thankful that he happened to be a tall guy and could easily keep the men in sight; as he’d predicted, the three men made a bee-line for the kitchens and soon disappeared behind the batwing doors.

“Hey, watch where you’re goin’, jackass!”

“People can be so rude, honestly…”

“Geez, where’s the fire?”

They finally emerged from the crowd, leaving a trail of complaints in their wake, and burst through the batwing doors. If Jack hadn’t been so concerned with trying to get the men back in his sights, he would’ve seen the figure lunging towards him with a kitchen knife raised high above his head; thankfully, though, (Y/N)’s shout of warning gave him just enough time to dodge the man’s attack and land a punch in his stomach, causing him to double-over before Jack knocked him out with a hard hit to the jaw. Jack looked over at (Y/N) just in time to see her finish off a second attacker, hitting him across the head with a frying pan and watching as the man dropped to the floor.

“I’d bet anything these two are – well, were – Stompanato’s men.” Catching her breath, (Y/N) chucked the frying pan aside. “Come on, Flyboy, they’re getting away!”

Jack gave his head a small shake before following her through the kitchens, still a little shocked and – though he tried not to think about it too much – attracted to the sight of the wisecracking codebreaker beating up a man twice her size with only a kitchen frying pan. Focus up, Thompson, he scolded himself as he hurried after her; when they reached the double doors at the back of the kitchens, Jack drew his gun and motioned for (Y/N), who already had hers at the ready, to open one of the doors. With a brief nod, (Y/N) flung it open and Jack darted in just as a large delivery truck was turning the corner of the alley.

Before he could say or do anything, something solid hit him in the back and sent him staggering forward on the loading dock. He quickly turned to face his attacker, only to be hit in the stomach with a crowbar; his gun slipped out of his grasp and was kicked aside while he doubled over in pain. As his attacker, another white-jacketed man, raised the crowbar for a third time, Jack grabbed a loose wooden plank from the ground and used it to block the man’s strike. The force of the hit sent him stumbling backwards into the brick wall behind him and just as his attacker began pressing the crowbar into his neck, Jack yanked the wooden plank down and used it to throw the crowbar off of him before smashing it against his attacker’s face and kicking him to the ground.

“They’re gone,” (Y/N), who was now sporting a bloody nose and a blossoming bruise on her left shoulder, hurried over to him and helped him to straighten up. “And the communication device, well…” She showed him her clutch and by the looks of it, it had been thoroughly trampled on.

“Son of a bitch. We-”

“Hands up you two!” Jack’s head snapped up and he instantly spotted two men at the double doors aiming their guns at them; without thinking much of it, he stepped forward so that he was standing partially in between them and (Y/N). “I said, hands up!” With a glance back at his partner, Jack slowly did as they asked. “Okay, boss, we’ve got ‘em!”

The two men stepped forward to allow a third man to enter; he was on the shorter side, with neatly styled hair and an impeccably clean suit, and his stern expression was quickly overtaken by one of smug recognition. “Chief Thompson of the SSR. What an unexpected surprise!”

“Director Roberts of the good ol’ FBI. I can’t say that it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Despite the easy-going smirk on his face, Jack’s heart had dropped in his chest; not only was Director John Roberts a high-ranking officer in the FBI, but he was once a close friend of none other than Vernon Masters. Double the reason to hold a grudge against me, he thought to himself before continuing. “Look, Roberts, I think there’s been some sort of mistake here-”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Roberts motioned for one of the men, who holstered his gun and pulled out a set of handcuffs. “You and your dame here are under arrest on suspicion of illegal weapons distribution and murder.”

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A/N: Lol sorry for another cliffhanger! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Thirteen

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #howard stark #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #michael carter #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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2018shawn · 4 years

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love (sticky) notes

a/n: I forgot I wrote this and I'm clearing out my drafts so here we are why!!! the fuck not!!!.... here is a whole lotta y/n feeling and looking her best SELF n loving herself like we all should as strong independent women. you’re all beautiful 🥺🥰

warnings: alludes to smut, a little swearing, a little fluff, a little happy

Tom let himself in, just like you requested, because you were both at that stage now. The stage where you weren’t exclusively each other’s, but exclusively and most definitely were not anyone else’s. It was fun; things going at their own pace, no pressure, no rules, just you and Tom being, well, you and Tom.

“Your Prince Charming has arrived!” Tom shouted, making you aware of his presence. Last thing he wanted after a shitty day doing filming was to be knocked out by you because he’d scared you shitless. He hung his back pack on the hooks you kept by the door, kicking his converse off so they landed next to your very own trusty pair. He smiled; his n hers.

You shook your head to yourself as you continued to change in your room, the door open just enough for his voice to flood through. “Okay well Prince Charming can make himself at home and there’s a beer on the table for you.”

Your shoebox apartment was small enough that you didn’t really need to shout, more so just talk loudly in order for him to hear you. He noted the ice cold Budweiser sat on the coffee table in front of your sofa, condensation dripping from the neck of the bottle. You’d left a sticky note on there, with a simple smiley face and a kiss for no particular reason at all, other than that you loved a sticky note. He slumped into the sofa - he loved your sofa more than his own, it was real cloudy (his words, not yours) - reaching over for the refreshing beverage before kicking his feet up on the table. A warm smile spread across his lips as he peeled off the sticky note. He wanted to wife you, he knew that much.

“How was your day, darling?” He asked, taking a large gulp from the drink, which indicated how his went. He fiddled with the sticky note, pressing it down onto the material of his t shirt, like when you go to the dentist as a kid or you get all your spellings right at school and get rewarded with a sticker; this time, you were his reward.

Small mumbles escaped your lips as you fiddled with your unfamiliar change of clothes in the bedroom. You couldn’t quite get the clasps right and wondered how there were women out there who wore stuff like this on a daily basis. Although you had to admit, so far, so cute. “Yeah, okay I guess. My boss was a jerk again but what’s new.”

Unbeknown to Tom, your foot rested on the bed, one at a time, as you rolled stockings up your legs, letting them snap to your thigh when they were high enough. “You need to tell him to come see me.” He replied, and you knew he was tensing his jaw.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but feel giddy and warm at the way Tom got jealous and protective over your relationships with you boss, especially when you once let it slip he asked you on a date but you politely declined. “Sure thing,” you laughed, grabbing the last item to complete your outfit, sliding it over your shoulders.

You asked him about his day, and you soon learnt that he couldn’t quite get the scene right, resulting in a hella load of retakes and okay guys, let’s take a minute moments. Glancing over the bedroom one last time before you opened the door fully, you checked everything was in order, no washing or Winnie the Pooh pyjamas laying around. A final walk past the mirror stopped you in your tracks, head snapping to face your reflection. You barely recognised yourself; the nicest underwear you’d bought or even worn in god knows how long adorned your body, colourful floral pattern contrasting against your nude skin. You think you looked nice; you felt nice, and as your mum once told you - who’s gonna love you if you ain’t gonna love yourself. Even though you were queen of putting yourself down and picking at things you didn’t like about yourself, you’d also grown to live with your imperfections. A final brush of your fingers over the light pink, mesh material smoothed out the matching kimono to your set and you swallowed a gulp.

The door to your bedroom creaked open, and from where you stood you could see his crazy brown hair sticking up from the couch, his head leant back against the head rest. Your living room was pretty much in front of your bedroom door, the kitchen to the right and bathroom to the left. It was nothing special, but it was your little home and you loved it. The back of the sofa faced your bedroom door, Tom only aware that you were entering the room due to your quiet footsteps on the floor.

“... and I swear to god, you know like when you thought you’d be baby Jesus in the nativity but you get given the part of a tree? That was her, she wanted to be in every bloody take!” He sighed, rambling on about some girl in the scenes that was only supposed to be there as an extra.

His eyes were closed as you walked closer to him, legs spread apart and bottle resting on his leg with the support of his hand. You wanted to run straight around and straddle the living daylights out of him, but self control needed to be a thing here. Each of your hands came to his tense shoulders, your fingertips beginning to knead at his strong structure. He hummed in return, a satisfied smile creeping upon his lips, his eyes remaining shut as he enjoyed the relaxing gesture. “You’re nice.” He simply said and you watched how his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as he gulped.

A giggle fell from your lips as your hands loosened on his shoulders. He was about to groan at the sudden lack of touch, but was stopped when your hands flately ran from his shoulders and down to his chest. He’d been working out for the filming of the movie and you could feel it, his chest hard beneath the surface of his shirt. You laughed at the sticky note on his chest, avoiding knocking it off as he pulled a pouty face, his lips stretching out for a kiss. Hovering over the top of him, you bent your head down to place a delicate peck on him, so delicate you barely touched at all. Your hands roamed down to his torso, feeling him tense up beneath your touch as your hands ran over each pair of abs. His lips were still stifly pouting, needing a real kiss to be satisfied.

When you were happy his shoulders were less tense and his body a little more relaxed, you let your hands rest in one place. It was ironic really, that you were the one upside down, kissing him, because wasn’t that spider mans job once? Nevertheless, you continued, not entirely sure how to approach an upside down kiss but going with the same approach as normal. Your fingers grabbed at tufts of his T-shirt as your lips came into contact, his hands working their way up above and behind him to lace around the back of your neck. The sound of the billie eilish playlist was nothing but background noise as you loved on each other passionately, the sounds of your lips hard at work filling the quiet space.

He hummed into your lips as your hair fell from behind your head, gliding down and landing across his chest and neck. His face scrunched up, your brown curls tickling his sensitive area as he let a small giggle escape his lips and god, did you think it was the cutest thing in the world.

Standing upright, he pouted at your disappearance, peeking one eye open as he realised he was yet to lay his eyes on you tonight; that was usually the first thing he did. The straighter you stood up, the lower down your body his hands went. Considering he was spider man and billy Elliot, he appeared to not be all that flexible, his hands only just able to grasp the top of your arms.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows at the feel of your clothing, the mesh material feeling foreign to his touch. You stayed at each other’s houses long enough for him to know that you very much prefer a baggy t-shirt to lounge in, to which he had no objections. Mainly because a) they were normally his t-shirts and b) they almost always stopped at the top of your thighs, giving him a pleasant view for his time with you. His hands enveloped around your arms, snaking downwards until they reached your wrists and he began to fiddle with the unfamiliar sleeved embroidery. He could tell the stitching of the flowers were beautiful, but not nearly half as beautiful as you.

You admired his soft touch, watching down at him as he opened his other eye, smiling up at you. “Hey.” He smiled, flashing the movie star smile you fell for months ago.

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you tucked the front of your hair behind your ear, “Hey.”

He was too busy staring at your face to notice your attire, but when his eyes finally travelled down to your chest, they widened. His lips parted into an o, his chest coming to a halt as his breathing stopped. The bralet you was wearing was a see through mesh, your nipples only covered by the embroidered flowers matching to the ones he’d felt on your sleeves. The pink and green colours complimented you perfectly and he was at a loss for words. He leant forward on the sofa, placing his beer own on the coffee table and you weren’t sure how he didn’t miss, because his eyes didn’t leave your body the entire time.

Kneeling up onto the sofa, he finally faced you, hands gripping the back of the sofa. “Holy shiiiiiiiit,” he groaned, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. His eyes began to travel further down your body, not really wanting to move away from your incredibly curved breasts, but eager to see what the rest of you had to offer. Your waist was bare and he continued to the top of your hips, where the matching, delicate suspender belt began to cover your stomach. It flowed down, past your bellybutton and ended just above the top of your thighs. Peeking out from underneath were of course the matching pants and the most unique noise left his lips, something half way between a whimper and a groan.

He didn’t noticed how his knuckles were turning white as they gripped the sofa because he was scared if he let go, he’d pass out. You let him admire your body, knowing it wasn’t exactly the usual welcome home you’d normally give him. But when his stare started to burn into you and felt more than torturous, you had to say something. “Um... is this ok?” You looked down at yourself then back up to the love eye emoji knelt in front of you.

“Is it - are you fucking even real?!” He finished speaking with his mouth still open, hanging down and eyes wider than ever apart from the few times he blinked hard, to see if he was imagining things. You laughed, taking it as one of the best compliments you’ve ever received.

You started walking backwards, getting closer to your bedroom door with a suggestive smirk on your lips, “well, are you coming?”

And that was all it took for him to climb and stumble over the back of the sofa, nearly throwing himself onto the floor in the process as he chased into your bedroom where he very, very much enjoyed the rest of his evening.

------

taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls

#I FORGOT I WROTE THIS LOL #I THINK ITS KINDA CUTE???#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #tom holland fic #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine

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ratcandy · 3 years

Note

UHHH THE SECOND IDEA FIRST

OKAY Time's disastrous universe let's get it boys

Below is a VERY long personal-story related ramble because a lot happens here and there's a lot to explain and I'm being enabled (c/w death, a LOT of memory erasure, Gods being idiots, and. If I need to add anythin else here someone better let me know hehehe)

feat some dumb lil doodles here n there because i felt like it

Exposition time first!

At the beginning of everything, eight universes were created, each differentiated by color. A Universe Owner is assigned to each universe, and that entity is then responsible for their universe's laws of reality, the lives of the characters, and... whatever else they decide to mess with. This is so I can allow myself a lot of freedom in making stories in many different areas n such without worrying about it following another story's rules >:)

Okay exposition time done! for now!

One day out of the blue, the God of Time decided that they wanted a universe all for themselves. They wanted to create life!! They wanted to make a world!! It'd be fun! It'd be a whole vibe!

So, against the wishes of the God of Balance, Time made a ninth universe and fruitlessly tried to keep it hidden from everyone else. This backfired instantly. A huge argument broke out between Time and Balance, as the latter was pissed, but Time won in the end and was allowed to keep their universe. Balance is just upset there's not a nice even number anymore. He'll get over himself eventually.

Straight up having a great time now, the God of Time went hogwild and fleshed out their universe to the best of their ability. Beautiful lush forests, stunning pink skies as if it were in a continuous sunrise, crystal-clear waters that glimmer ever-so-brightly!! Yes!! Pretty!! And immediately after, they created creatures!! And people! To inhabit their world!

Elegant flying beasts, colorful people of all shapes and sizes, bustling towns with trade and life and energy and!!! Yes! Yes!! Vibes!!

Time was living their BEST life.

But. Well. This is my story. things gotta go wrong now

SO! First, something to note about how the God of Time works:

Time's primary job is to keep the Time Fire from ever going out or touching the ground. The Time Fire is an eternally burning flame, forever shifting from vibrant color to vibrant color, getting bigger and burning stronger with every passing millennia. It also... y'know. Allows time itself to function. If it goes out, time will stop. If it touches the floor, time will go NUTS and parallel/alternate universes will go haywire, clashing into one another and messing up reality.

The God of Time, luckily, has powerful psychic abilities.. The tall mans just put the Time Fire in a sort of protective bubble, constantly floating above the ground, and left it in a temple at the center of their universe. Epic. All works out

Well. All SHOULD have worked out.

At some point, Time left their universe to have a meeting with the Gods, and on their way to Oblivion - often a meeting place for deities - they witnessed something Very Unfortunate.

One of the Universe Owners, Hesit (white universe), was being torn to pieces by an intruder in the higher realm. By killing and consuming Hesit, possession of the white universe was transferred to said intruder: a big asshole named Vexis. Time tried to confront Vexis immediately after. This was a mistake, as Vexis panicked and attacked Time. Seeing as Gods cannot die, Vexis instead trapped the god in his newly-acquired universe - binding him there forever.

So now Time is imprisoned in the white universe, lost and confused, not knowing how to get back out. And Vexis doesn't plan on telling anyone about this.

The other gods soon realize that Time has gone missing. Very soon, actually, because... well. With Time being swept away into the white universe and being held prisoner there, uhm. A certain something important isn't being held suspended anymore.

The Time Fire.

It hasn't fallen yet, but it's gradually sinking toward the ground, and sometHING has to get a hold on it soon!! Or HELL WORLD!!

Balance loses his MIND!! We have to do something about this before time becomes a catastrophic, unfixable disaster! And also we're missing a god!! This is not good!! At first, Balance goes looking for Time, but realizes he doesn't really uh... have the time to be doing that

So, in desperation, he searches his mind for possible solutions. He gets one, crazy idea, and practically begs the God of Death to help him pull it off. Death agrees, because this is the one (1) time Death acknowledges that the mortal realm being in danger might be a bad thing.

To put a long plan short, Balance used Death to turn the Goddess of Pain into a pseudo Goddess of Time.

Pain had previously been wreaking HAVOC, and Balance was NOT happy about it. Way too many mortals were dying, then not dying, then losing their sanities, then losing control of themselves, and it was just. Very messy. He didn't feel great about using her to replace Time, but he didn't have many options. And he needed someone to take over. So, he and Death worked together to erase Pain's memories and turn her into a Goddess of Time.

They couldn't give her psychic abilities, though. So, how'd they deal with the Time Fire? It now permanently rests on Pain/Time's back. As in, the flame is constantly burning her spine for all of eternity, steadily searing her flesh but never allowing her to die. She's grown progressively numb to it over many, many years, but that doesn't make it any less unfortunate for her.

Balance feels awful about this. Especially since Pain/Time doesn't remember who she was, and believes she's always been Time. This is how it's always been. The universe around her is one she made, one she owns. Anytime Balance stops by to visit (as Time cannot move now from the temple with the fire), she greets him so kindly, so happy to have company... and he just feels terrible, knowing what he's done to her.

Well... at least that's settled. This cannot possibly go awry in any way shape or f----

The new Goddess of Time is trying her best to make creations for her universe. After all, that's what she's always done! These are her children, essentially, and she needs to have more. This, uh... well, the Goddess of Pain was not made with creating in mind, rather destroying. So, despite her valiant efforts, half of her creations come out... a Lil Messed Up. But she loves them all the same and keeps them around!!! Even if they're... worse for wear, or not quite like the rest!! They're her children. Yea!

At some point, however, her creating takes a bit too much from other universes' energy, and a mortal from another universe just ends up appearing in Time's. His name is Dustivan, and he is reasonably confused. One moment, he was vibing with his sister and her wife, and the next-- where the hell is he. why is the sky pink. who is this block man approaching me

The block man in question is named Maurice, and he is a sort of guardian for Time's temple. The Time that's always been here. The Time that has always looked like that and never been any different! (All of the Original Time's creations had their memories wiped, too. This Goddess of Time is the only one there's ever been! That's your mother, see. There is no other Time. She created you. Don't worry about it)

Maurice greets Dusty under the assumption that this man is just another new creation, and is soon told that "Uh, no, I'm... from some place else? I have a family? And a home, elsewhere?" M. Maurice is a lil confused. But he asks Time about this.

Time has no idea what he's talking about, either, so Maurice just... calmly escorts Dusty away, promising to get back to him later. We'll figure this out, man, don't you even worry about it

Now, there's a bit here that's only loosely developed! That being Dusty's stay in Time's Universe! Lil man meets a lotta folks, gets used to this weird world he's living in, makes good friends with Maurice and Maurice's maybe-more-than-friends-:flushed: friend Arin, aaand has a great experience! Because Time's universe is incredibly serene and peaceful, even with the new management!

Straight up vibi--- oh no wait what's this

Somehow, Maurice, Arin and Dusty find out about the whole... thing that happened with the original Time, and Pain being turned into the new Time. Maurice and Arin get their memories back and freak out a little while Dusty is just standing there like "big rip on you guys I guess"

Shenanigans ensue and Maurice goes back to Pain/Time, thinking it'll definitely work out if he tells her everything that happened so her.

Hey so it doesn't work out

Pain regains her own memories, and becomes ABSOLUTELY PISSED OFF, shedding the form forced onto her and returning back into the Goddess of Pain. In her transformation, however, she shook the Time Fire from her back, screaming in the agony that caused her, and. well.

she hit the floor (she hit the floor) next thing ya know, time fire got low low low low low low

Time itself was sent into disarray. The God of Balance felt it happen, FREAKED OUT, picked up the God of Death and just BOOKED IT into Time's Universe, dashing toward the temple. But it... was no longer a temple! It was very much destroyed. Balance is faced with the rubble of the former temple, the Fire just chillin on the ground, Arin bleeding to death after being attacked by Pain, Maurice fretting and trying to keep Arin alive, and Dusty aboutta also fucking die because Pain is angry. Alongside the bodies of whatever other poor creations/people just happened to be nearby the temple when this went down. Which was probably quite a few, as the temple was almost always open to visitors.

Death and Balance did the exact same thing again, though with added struggle. Pain was reverted to Time, the Time Fire was yeeted right back onto her spine (followed by a shriek of... pain), and Balance practically collapsed onto the floor hoping to never get up again

Death, however, forced him up, gesturing to the creations around them and uh. hey. their minds. wipe 'em Balance was very tired by this point, but began wiping the survivor's memories, running into Dusty and realizing "hey wait a minute. you're not from this universe" and just kicking that idiot back to where he's supposed to be. might've forgotten to wipe that one's mind but uh i'm sure that's not important

And that's essentially the end of that plot thread! Life continues as if nothing happened, afterwards. Time was restored (though a fuckton of "discrepancies" are now notable throughout the universes, as if time went Wonky or something), the people are thriving, and Maurice & Arin... the latter of which did indeed survive... are wondering if there's something important they were supposed to remember.

nah. probably not

there's a few side stories with characters in Time's universe, including another survivor of the Pain Realizing Who She Is incident... though he got the hell outta dodge and managed to keep his memories. making him a sort of fugitive as Balance has to track that idiot down and fix that problem but!!! this is already a very, very long post, so. WOO

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pynkhues · 5 years

Note

Ok, so. First of all, I freaking love your writig, its *chefs kiss* delicious. Second of all I have this theory. Its that the only way they will say anything seriously nice about the other is if they are not saying it to each other. Could you write something about Beth defending Rio to someone (maybe a PTA mom or Ruby) or Rio defending Beth to someone (maybe Dean) and the other one overhears? Kinda the opposite of 'eavesdroppers never hear nice things' kinda thing. Sorry for the ramble!

Thank you so much! You’re so sweet!

So, I’ve had so many requests for fic in The Center and Circumference / domestic fic universe, I didn’t realise that that wasn’t in your request until I’d already finished this prompt, haha. I hope that’s okay! Anyway, it’s pretty long, so I hope you like it :-)

He’s halfway through a meeting with one of their newer clients – some watery-eyed, broad-faced fuck with a propensity already for overstepping – when Rio’s cell buzzes in the back pocket of his jeans, and shit, he thinks, gaze flicking to his right on the table where his work cell sits uninterrupted. It’s ain’t that.

“I can manage the extra cars,” the client says across from him, unperturbed, shifting forwards slightly in his seat, and Rio arches an eyebrow, feeling his cell quiet down, then the tell-tale buzz of a voicemail left after it. There are only a few people it could be on this line – Elizabeth, probably about dinner tonight or somethin’ (she’s careful about calling his work cell for work-related things after all), his mom, probably about dinner on Sunday night, or - - his jaw already twitching in annoyance - - Glenvale Elementary School.

“That’s a lotta product,” he tells the client, while telling himself it could be Danny’s teacher – Elizabeth had kept him home sick yesterday with what she was sure were the early signs of an ear infection, and she is usually right about those sorts of things; or Emma’s teacher, maybe – giving her another prize for highest raised hand or cleanest desk or some shit, but damn, who’s he kidding?

If it’s the school, he knows who it’s about.

“I can move it,” the client insists. “It’s only three more than my guys are already doing, and I’ve got a few new territories I’m exploring for distribution.”

It’s the way the guy says it more than anything that makes Rio train a lazy eye back on him – the tone just the wrong side of desperate. Rio knows that tone – the tone of somebody who’s promised someone more than he can offer.

Rocking forwards a little in his own seat, Rio knits his fingers together, drops them as one to the table in front of him, his brow furrowing in faux confusion as he does it, and he’s about to ask exactly why this dumbass needs three extra cars worth of pills when his cell starts buzzing again in the back pocket of his jeans.

And just - -

If it is the school - -

If one of them is sick or hurt or something, just - -

Fuck.

He lurches to his feet.

“We’ll start with one,” he tells the guy, already reaching for his cell, and when the client opens his mouth to try and haggle, Rio silences him quickly with a look. Once he’s sure the guy isn’t going to make trouble, he drags his gaze away just long enough to make eye contact with Demon, who’s standing, folded-armed, by the door.

“Demon’ll take you through the, ah –” he rolls his free hand out at the wrist, making a show out of considering this, his other hand still occupied with his buzzing cell. “Paperwork, dot the I’s, cross them t’s. You do okay with the one, we can talk about two next time, yeah?”

And at least even the mention of Demon is enough to shut the guy up for real.

What can he say? Demon’s got a rep, and what sort of boss would Rio be if he didn’t know how to use it? He smirks a little, watches as Demon moves to sit down on the edge of the table, inches away from the client, looking down at him, and when he’s sure Demon’s got it, Rio slips easily out of the room.

He’s still walking down the short hallway of the warehouse to his current office when he finally actually looks at his buzzing cell, feeling equally pissed off and vindicated at the Glenvale Elementary number blearing back up at him. And sure, maybe he’s pinching his nose as he answers the call, elbowing his way into his office – expecting what exactly, he has no fucking clue. He’s given up on guessing when it comes to Marcus and Jane. If they’ve started another fire though, he swears to god - -

“Mr Vela,” the administrator says, a little breathless, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “Thanks for taking our call. We understand you’re a very busy man.”

Rio just hums, folding down into his desk chair.

“The kids aight?”

“Um, yes, yes, the kids are all fine, we were just - - we were wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming in? Now? Or whenever soonest you could get here?”

He checks his watch, rocking his jaw in irritation. He’s not sure he can sit through another meeting with Marcus and Jane’s teacher, watch him make cow eyes at Elizabeth, blush like he’s fourteen when she laughs at some joke so lame it may as well be leavin’ his mouth with scuffed loafers and a sweater vest.

And - -

Wait - -

He purses his lips a little.

“Yeah, ain’t you got some PTA mom bake off on right now?” he asks. “My partner should be there already. In your cafeteria and whatnot.”

Despite his best efforts to get her not to be. There were better uses of her time after all, but she kept insisting it was good for the kids to see her there, for the school to see her there too, and they’d fought enough about it, because yeah, sure – Rio was down for the recitals and the games and even the family mixers (which - - ugh), but it wasn’t like the kids were even around for the PTA shit, and besides, Rio (and Elizabeth, in name at least) had donated half a library to the damn place. Enough that the school would turn a blind eye to any of the shit Rio did if he needed to (namely taking the kids out at no notice if shit went down. Or if it didn’t. Whatever. Sometimes he just wanted to take ‘em to LegoLand).

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling,” the administrator says a little nervously. “There’s been an incident with some of the parents. In fact, with your partner. If you could come in as soon as you could, we’d be grateful.”

***

And really, this shit is just hilarious.

He’d gotten a few of the details over the phone from the administrator, but honestly he doesn’t think anything will really beat walking into a first grade classroom and seeing Elizabeth on one of those tiny little plastic seats, a handful of scratches at her temple like someone’s tried to gauge out her eye and missed, some more at her chest, the neck of her pink blouse torn open and her neck and chest smeared with frosting.

Rio arches an eyebrow at her as he steps in, and Elizabeth puts her nose up and everything, a blush dusting her cheeks, all prim like they ain’t gonna be finding blood and frosting when she pulls her bra off later, but then - - he bites back a grin. That sounds kinda fun.

She’s doing better than the woman beside her anyway – some Bargain Bin Barbie, who has two cotton balls shoved up her bloody nose, the start of a killer black eye (and damn, when had Elizabeth’s right hook gotten that good?) and cake in her peroxide blonde hair. Some Ryan Seacrest-type who’s gotta be her husband sits beside her, arms folded over his chest, looking for all the world like it’s the last place he wants to be.

No imagination, Rio thinks, his jaw rocking in amusement, eyes shifting back to Elizabeth.

He can’t think of a place he’d rather be.

“Ah, wonderful, we’re all here.”

The voice sounds from behind the desk, and Rio jerks his head around to see some guy who must be a part of the faculty – tall and lanky wearing the ugliest fucking tie Rio’s ever seen. The guy gestures him out vaguely towards the back of the classroom. “Would you mind taking a seat.”

Striding forwards, Rio grabs one of the little plastic chairs from where they’re stacked in the corner, dropping it beside Elizabeth and sitting heavily down in it. As soon as he’s seated, the guy looks between them, ringing his hands a little nervously, shuffling in his own seat.

“I’ve called you in today because your wives –”

“They’re not even married,” Bargain Barbie snips, and Elizabeth’s head rotates around so quickly she’s like that little girl in The Exorcist.

“It’s 2019, Tania, marriage hasn’t been a measure of a relationship’s worth in at least twenty years. Something you’d know if you read something other than the back of your box-mix cupcakes.”

And, well, damn, Rio thinks, sucking in his lips to swallow a laugh as he looks back at Ugly Tie. Vaguely he can see Bargain Barbie (or Tania, he supposes, but whatever, he doesn’t care) make a noise of abject outrage – whether at being called out for her apparently dated ideas or the insinuation that her cupcakes aren’t made from scratch, Rio has no idea. Maybe it’s both, with the way she turns about nine different shades of red. Beside her, her husband suddenly grabs her hand, dragging it into his lap to stop her from hitting Elizabeth again.

Or, well, trying to. No matter how funny this whole thing is, Rio’s not exactly inclined to let anyone touch her.

“Your partners,” Ugly Tie corrects nervously. “Were involved in an incident in the school cafeteria ahead of this afternoon’s PTA Bake Off.”

“We weren’t involved in an incident,” the blonde hisses, flailing her free hand out in Beth’s direction. “She attacked me.”

“I did not attack you,” Elizabeth replies, and Bargain Barbie snorts while the colour drains from Ugly Tie’s face, like he thinks fists are about to fly again. He teeters nervously at the edge of his seat.

“Witnesses did say you pushed her face first into the cake display, Ms. Marks.”

Witnesses, Rio thinks with a grin. Like this is an episode of CSI. These people really are a trip.

Elizabeth looks at Ugly Tie at that and then quickly paints on that Stepford look – the one that’s all Bambi Eyes and Molly Manners – the one that, despite himself, still makes his dick twitch.

“Maybe I moved a little suddenly,” Beth allows. “But honestly, it was an accident, Ed - - can I call you Ed?”

Ed pinks a little, stuttering out a yes, and Rio has to resist the urge to snort.

“I guess I was just a little swept up in the moment of it – you really do just run the best PTA fundraising bake off – and I mean, I’d know, because I’ve participated in more than my share, being an active member of the school community - - ”

“You’re so full of shit,” Bargain Barbie snaps, arm flailing out of Seacrest’s grip, and honestly, Rio thinks, amused, she’s kind of got her there. Still, Ugly Tie holds up a hand to both of them, as if finding his train of thought again.

“The reason we’ve called your partners in, is it seems like the fight stemmed from broader tensions between your families.”

And that shuts them both up.

Rio glances curiously over at the other couple, racking his head to think of any time Elizabeth’s so much as mentioned a Tania, but he comes up blank. He knows there’s a Margot who’s trying to get the school on a raw food diet, and a Penny who always fights it when Elizabeth tries to move the school away from celebrating religious holidays (“It should be all or nothing,” Beth insists. “If the school is going to keep celebrating Christmas and Easter, why can’t they celebrate Eid and Diwali too? It’s 2019!” – apparently that’s her buzz phrase at the moment), but - - no Tania.

“Anyone?” Ugly Tie asks them all now, and Elizabeth and Bargain Barbie both sit up a little taller, pointedly maintaining their silence, and damn, they’re more tight-lipped than half Rio’s boys. He eyes them both with a vague interest as Ugly Tie sighs.

“Fine. A two week ban on all PTA activities,” he says, and Rio could almost laugh at the look of abject horror on both Elizabeth and Tania’s faces. “And you need to apologise to each other and to the other members of the PTA.”

“Mr. Hollander, the Spring Fling Dance planning committee nominations are next week,” Bargain Barbie cries, and Elizabeth opens her mouth probably to say something equally embarrassing, and Rio figures that’s probably their cue. He grabs Elizabeth by the elbow, lurching to his feet and dragging her up with him, and before she can dig her heels in in that way she does, he’s nodding at Ugly Tie in acknowledgement, saying a quick “Sounds fair,” and dragging them both out of the room.

***

Turns out her sister’s shitty car had croaked again that morning, so Elizabeth had lent her the mama van on the condition she drop her for the bake off and pick up the brood after school, which is fine, he figures, pulling out of the school carpark, Elizabeth all tightly wound beside him in the passenger seat, her cheeks red and her posture stiff.

“You gonna tell me what that was about?” he asks as he gets onto the main road. He really should go back to work, but fuck it, he thinks. There’s nothing on Demon can’t handle, and if there is, he knows how to reach him anyway.

“No,” she snips, and Rio casts a look at her out of the corner of his eye, and it takes him a minute to realise that the red of her cheeks isn’t embarrassment like he’d figured, but rather that it’s still anger. It’s enough to make him shift in his seat – it ain’t like she doesn’t get mad, just she doesn’t usually get mad about PTA stuff, at least not like this – more just tense and exasperated and sometimes frustrated in a way he can usually diffuse if he looks at her or touches her right. But this - -

He ain’t seen her like this recently.

The car slows at the traffic lights, and he uses the opportunity to reach over, push her hair out of her face, run a thumb over one of the scratches at her temple.

“Want me to call my sister? Get her to bring over a rabies shot?”

It works like he’d wanted it to. Beth exhales a laugh, her gaze drifting over to him, watching as he takes his hand back to the steering wheel of the car. They get another couple of blocks when he feels it, the slow boil of her anger again, simmering beside him in the car, and they’re not even that far from home, but fuck it, he thinks, he doesn’t like the idea of her going straight into one of her furious cleaning or cooking frenzies, so he pulls over.

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t react, not even when he turns in his seat to look at her, taking in the tight lock of her shoulders, the tighter one of her jaw.

“Elizabeth,” he starts, and she looks out the window, away from him. “Come on, ma.”

She rolls her eyes at him, like he’s the one being ridiculous, and he pointedly pulls the keys out of the ignition, watching as she turns enough to scowl at him, folding her arms across her chest. Whatever. No skin off his nose, he thinks, leaning back against the driver’s side door, his eyes not leaving her, he’s got all day, and it’s only another minute, maybe two, before she’s flailing her arms in the air, her cheeks reddening all over again.

“She called you a drug dealer,” Beth whisper-yells at him, like anyone can hear them in his car, and shit, is that all? Rio just laughs.

“And you upset about that?”

He knows she is – can see it in the heave of her (still frosting-covered) chest, in the way her lower lip quivers, her eyelashes clump. Can hear it in the tightness of her voice, and maybe he should’ve gotten her home first, gotten her on her back in their bed, breathless, legs trembling, made her forget about it the best way he knew how, but - -

“She meant it as an insult,” she says hotly, interrupting his train of thought, and Rio pops an eyebrow at her, because no shit. “And it’s not like she knows you are one. She thinks you work flipping cars with me.”

“So what?” he asks, shrugging, and Elizabeth frowns over at him, finally turning around in her seat to face him. She’s still all flushed, flustered, and she seems pissed at him now when she flails her arms out at him, and voice shrill, says:

“So what? So - - so what if she says that sort of thing in front of her sons, who go to school with your son. What if they tell all their friends about what Marcus’ daddy does for a living?”

Shaking his head, Rio can’t quite take her eyes off her, because seriously – sometimes he thinks she figures he popped out of the ground the day he showed up in her kitchen, like Marcus did that day in the park.

“Trust me, it won’t be nothin’ Marcus ain’t heard before.”

And at least that shuts her up, her mouth closing, her posture sagging a little back against the passenger side door. He just watches her, briefly considering putting the keys back in the ignition and driving them home, but then - - he knows her enough to know that that ain’t all it is bothering her. He frowns at her, drums his fingers on his leg, and then looks away, something sharp spiking in his gut.

“You worried about your kids?” he asks, voice a little tighter than he wants it to be, and when Beth shrugs, his frown deepens.

“It’s a part of the deal,” he says. “Shit, you know what I look like, ma.”

And she doesn’t reply to that either, and that sharpness in his gut peaks into something uncomfortable. He rocks forwards a little in his seat, using the momentum of it to sit back harder, to bump his back back against the door.

“This a problem?” he asks her. “You want me to talk to the kids about how their new stepdad’s gonna make ‘em whispered about on the playground?”

“I don’t care about the kids!” she yelps, and he blinks, unable to contain his surprise when she suddenly backpedals. “I mean, of course I do, that’s not - -”

She exhales, the sound harsh in the hollow of his car, and she won’t look at him when she says:

“She can’t talk about you like that. She doesn’t know anything about you.”

And that’s - - not what he was expecting. He blinks at her, that sharpness in him dulling, squinting a little at her as he takes her in.

“She can do whatever she wants, ma."

Because shit, she can. Rio wouldn’t have wasted his time talking to her anyway, but hell, if she ain’t gonna pretend to make nice with other parents, he sure as hell ain’t either.

“Fine,” Beth says finally, sniffing a little. “But actions have consequences, isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

He could almost laugh at that, because she’s right, he is always telling her that, but he means it more in the context of handling a slippin’ employee, or her own tendency to steamroll into situations like she’s - - hell, like she’s one of their seven-year-olds.

“And what? Talkin’ shit gonna get her hit?”

“Yes,” Beth tells him firmly, nodding, sitting up a little straighter in her seat, her chin up, all defiant, and Rio snorts.

“You all about defendin’ my honour now?” he says it patronisingly, expecting her to get embarrassed in that way she does when she thinks he’s making fun of her, but that’s not what happens at all.

“Yes,” she says emphatically instead, and Rio blinks, surprised, and then before he can say anything else, she keeps talking.

“I told you. She can’t talk about you like that, and I’m not going to let her. And just for the record, I like the way you look, so.”

She stops then, looking over at him briefly, then quickly turning around in the seat, facing forwards again, all prim again like there ain’t cake in her hair, and Rio can’t quite stop his grin.

“Yeah, I knew that last one, ma,” he says, and Beth pinks, but she smiles, gaze finding him again. She bites her lip a little, looks up at him through her lashes, and Rio just - - shit. He can feel how goofy his smile is, quickly tapering it into a smirk as best he can.

“You really push her into that display?” he asks her after a minute of quiet, and Beth wrinkles her nose, blushing for real this time, but still. Something in her face, it’s a little proud.

“Punched her too.”

He arches an eyebrow, looking dutifully impressed, and she preens before she can help herself, holding up a hand at that so he can see the start of the bruises on her knuckles. He laughs, shaking his head, grabbing her hand to inspect it, and shit, if he doesn’t find them cute too – all dainty like her, little blooms of purple, like flower buds, and ugh. Even thinkin’ that, he shakes his head at himself, but presses his lips to them all the same, and he doesn’t hear it, or even see it, but some part of him feels her breath hitch, and it’s a relief really – that he can feel just how sprung she is too.

“Okay, bruiser,” he tells her, twisting back in his seat, pushing the keys back into the ignition, and he goes to drop her hand, but she threads their fingers instead, and he holds it there, against his thigh, the whole ride home.

#beth x rio #nbc good girls #the center and circumference #my fic #prompt fills #welcome to my ama

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kplr-radio · 5 years

Text

Broadcast: Rob Kranken, 01/18/19

[Fire Escape Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness]

Rob: Good evening everyone, this is 103.5 KPLR Radio, that was “Fire Escape” by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness. I’m your host, Rob Kranken, with you on this Friday night going into Saturday morning. It’s about 30 degrees outside and I am huddled in my studio with my jacket on and a blanket that I found in a storage closet. No one is on the road, and I’m hoping it stays that way ‘cause we got a lotta ice out there after Thursday's storm. In more personal news, I talked to Angelo as someone last week advised. I’ll respect his privacy on-air but I do think you were right. And besides, he’s alright to talk to. Much better than some of the interns. Speaking of which, those kids are so easy to mess with. You’d think a strange town like Kepler would give you immunity to a few scary goofs. Anyways, I’ll stop blabbering, here’s “Daydreamer” by Young The Giant.

[Daydreamer Young the Giant] [Shutdown Joywave] [Train Brick + Mortar] [Way Too Much Wavves]

Rob: That was “Shutdown” by Joywave, and then “Train” by Brick and Mortar, and “Way Too Much” by Wavves. It seems like it’s gonna be a pretty quiet night so I’ll go ahead and fill the silence before I leave you all to more music. So it’s January, right, the start of a new year. And people make those resolutions, and this, maybe two weeks in, is when a lot of people start falling off. First of all, if your goal involves weight loss, I’d recommend not bothering. Unless a medical professional tells you that and means it, and they’re not just being a prick, then you don’t need to lose weight. Second of all, if you drop off now you don’t have to wait ‘til next year to pick it up. Say you’re trying to learn a language. That Duolingo owl is still gonna be there in a month if you get too busy. And besides, languages are not easy and are never gonna make sense, so I’m proud of you for even trying. Now I’m an old man, I’m— I’m 42, so I haven’t made a New Year’s resolution in quite some time. But this year I was… well, I had something in mind. I was thinking this year I should get some hobbies outside radio, something I can do on my own. And I… I haven’t found anything that really sparked my interest yet, but like I said, the year isn’t over. So keep searching, I’ll keep searching, we all gotta keep searching. Then we’ll start over next year, hopefully as better people. I’ve rambled enough. This is “Cringe” by Matt Maeson.

[Cringe Matt Maeson] [I See You MISSIO] [Salt Bad Suns] [So Tied Up Cold War Kids, Bishop Briggs]

Rob: So that was “I See You” by MISSIO, “Salt” by Bad Suns, and “So Tied Up” by Cold War Kids and Bishop Briggs. It looks like someone’s calling in, and now is as good a time as any, so I guess we’ll move into this part of the broadcast. Listeners, feel free to call in with whatever. Questions, comments, messages for other Keplerians. Hello, you’re on the air.

Caller: I was out in the woods the other day and I stumbled upon some mighty weird tracks. They looked a bit like goat prints, but they was looking like each goat was up two legs. I followed 'em for a bit before they turned into normal footprints. Actually, now that I'm thinking 'bout it, I suppose they was just some bored kids out havin' some fun.

Rob: Well, you never know. The woods are a wild place. Who can say? Maybe there’s goat people out there. I don’t know. Just keep an eye out, or better yet leave that area alone. Stay safe. [click] Howdy.

Caller: Hey Karen, I’m really sorry that I pushed you in front of me when that weird thing was coming at us. I was a coward. Please talk to me.

Rob: Karen, if you’re out there, and listening at such a late hour, this person seems sincere, maybe give them a chance. Or don’t, I don’t know what happened. [click] Who’s next?

Caller: Play some bleachers please? I'm feeling angsty.

Rob: Can do, listener. How’s five songs work for you? Great. This first one is “I Wanna Get Better.”

[I Wanna Get Better Bleachers] [Rollercoaster Bleachers] [Wild Heart Bleachers] [I Miss Those Days Bleachers] [Don’t Take The Money Bleachers]

Rob: That was “Rollercoaster” “Wild Heart” “I Miss Those Days” and “Don’t Take the Money” all by Bleachers. Feels kinda fitting for tonight’s mood. I didn’t mean to make it as angsty as it ended up, but you know how it is. Every plan adds to the amount of mistakes possible. Anyways, I’m gonna play this ad for y’all that I’ve been meaning to do.

[Audio advertisement transcript: [haunting orchestral music] Have you ever heard a true story that couldn’t possibly be real? Or maybe seen something you couldn’t believe with your own two eyes? No? [music cuts off] Then you’re not living, my friend! Come on down to the Cryptonomica, we have centuries of hidden knowledge of the arcane and the mystical! Stories beyond suspicion, creatures beyond compare! We’re just off State Route 16055. The Cryptonomica: a museum for the mysterious.]

Rob: Thank so much to the Cryptonomica for sponsoring us this week and every week since I’ve been here. This means that Ned Chicane is directly responsible for every impulse purchase I have made. You did this, Ned, you’re the reason there’s a gold metallic Slinky on my desk right now. I’m gonna talk about my personal life now, because no one is here to stop me. And I’m sure you’re all dying to hear the gossip here at the station. So, of course, station management is on us constantly about our use of the office materials here. We’re on a budget, you can’t be using this many sticky notes, where are all the pens, blah blah blah. Whatever. Now, I can be a little loose with my sticky note usage, but I promise I’m not wild with it. I usually leave them for whoever is next in the studio, usually Angelo, and I’ll mark the settings that need to be adjusted. Believe it or not, Angelo is actually new at radio, despite his wildly successful podcast and powerful voice. Don’t tell him I said any of that. But yeah, I’ll leave notes around. Then, the other day, station management says they won’t keep buying the sticky notes if I keep using them up. Which seems counterintuitive, but I don’t know. I’ve never understood capitalist business models. This is community radio, anyway. But I was starting to cut down on my notes. Only four notes instead of seven. Only one in the kitchen with all the stuff crammed in tiny lettering. Is that what you wanted, supervisor? To try and read my illegible handwriting, extra-small? Well, Angelo was actually using those notes, like I said. And apparently, when I was out today, he got me one of those huge packs of the pink ones, my favorite. I came back and they were sitting on my desk with a green sticky saying they were from Angelo. Now I don’t know about any of you out there, but when the sticky note revolution comes, I know whose side I will be on. There is no greater solidarity than rival coworkers coming together against an oppressive anti-sticky note management. I… it’s late, sorry y’all, I’m not too sure what that was. Anyways, I’m going to cut out a little early tonight, but I’ll leave you some extra tunes to make up for it. Thanks for listening, here’s “I Don’t Wanna Dance” by COIN.

[I Don’t Wanna Dance COIN] [Modern Jesus Portugal. the Man] [Giants Bear Hands] [Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene Hozier]

#broadcast #robkranken #1/18/19

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sassycassie-s-writing · 5 years

Text

The Prince’s Birthday Ball

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Final Fantasy XV/Prompto Argentum

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: Classic Trope!

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is 3,300 words... that’s longer than I intended... XD

^^^^^

“Rory, emergency!” Prompto exclaimed the moment I picked up the phone.

“What’s up, Prom?”

“Do you still have that pretty silver dress you wore to high school formal?”

“Yeah…”

“How fast can you be fancied up for a formal event?”

“Well, depending on how fancy, anywhere between a half-hour to two hours. Why? What’s going on Prompto?”

“I was supposed to be on guard duty for the prince’s twentieth-birthday gala—‘cause I joined the Crownsguard, remember?—but Noct just called and said I’d been removed from guard duty so I could go as a guest instead because I'm his friend from school. But I have to bring a date.”

I blinked. Prompto and I had been friends since we were in elementary school. Sometimes I’d joined him on his runs. I went from being able to lap him to being lapped by him in a very short span of time. When he became friends with Noctis, I did too by proxy. Sometimes the three of us hung out at Prompto’s place together because his parents were never home.

“Prom, Noct already invited me to the gala. Like three months ago. You were there. I said I didn’t want to go because it’s not my crowd.”

“I knooow but pleeease, Rory? You don’t have to stay too long. As a special favor to me. And to make it up to you I will get you ice cream or something tomorrow. Please, Aurora? Please, please, please?”

I sighed, pushing the left side of my sliding closet door to the right to find my formal gown. “Fine. But you owe me big time.”

“Yes I do! I’ll come get you in like an hour!”

“Okay.”

“Bye!”

“Bye Prompto.” I hung up and stripped my casual clothes off. “MOM! I'm going to Noct’s birthday ball after all! Prompto basically just begged me to go!” I shouted, changing from my comfy weekend bra to my nice fancy bra.

My mom appeared at my bedroom door as I shimmied into my gown. “Sweetheart if you’re going to the prince’s ball, you can’t wear a high school formal dress.”

“Uh… why?”

“It’s a bit hokey and juvenile. But I have just the thing. Brush out your hair and get started on your makeup. I’ll be right back.” Mom left—heading for the attic.

“Uh… okay,” I said, getting out of my silver gown and into my bathrobe. I brushed out my hair and dug my makeup bag out of my dresser, heading into the bathroom for the better lighting and the magnifier mirror.

Mom reappeared, holding something out. “Your sister wore this to her friend’s wedding when she was studying in Altissia.”

“My heck. It’s gorgeous.”

“I know. Put it on. She won’t mind if you wear it for a night. I don’t think she even fits in it anymore. I think she got too tall in the torso.”

I shed my bathrobe and slid into the gown. It fit me perfectly. The satin was smooth against my skin. “Wow. Thanks Mom. I’ll be sure to thank Cilla later too.”

“Are you wearing your silver heels?”

“I was planning on my black ones when I was wearing the silver dress but now I'm planning on the silver ones.”

“Good. Let’s get out the curlers.”

“Mom, we don’t have time for curlers. Prompto is coming to get me in an hour!”

“Well then, let’s bust out the curling iron. Your ends need to at least be curled under.”

“Okay,” I said.

Getting ready was a whirlwind. Hair, makeup, jewelry, heels. I was buckling my left shoe when the doorbell rang. I couldn’t get up to get it, but I heard Mom open the door.

“Aurora! Prompto’s here!” Mom shouted from downstairs.

“Coming! Just putting on my other shoe!” I called. I slowly got back to my feet so I wouldn’t tear the dress and headed for the stairs.

^^^^^

Prompto stared. Aurora had been beautiful at high school formal their last year. He remembered seeing her in the silver gown, shimmering like the ocean in moonlight and beaming behind dark-painted lips.

That was nothing compared to this.

The gown she wore was holographic satin, shifting between blue and green and purple. It flowed around her legs and had cap sleeves and a high but somewhat wide collar. The bodice was lightly embroidered with silver threads and star-shaped rhinestones. Her lips were a dark purplish pink and her eyelashes were long, thick, and painted black. The ends of her hair were curled underneath, with sections above her ears twisted back to hold her hair away from her face, clipped in place by a beautiful, ornate silver barrette with blue, green, and purple stones set in it.

A blue star rhinestone was glued to the corner of her right eye. She wore a silver star on her necklace—the same necklace she always wore—and tiny diamond stud earrings. He caught a glimpse of elegant silver heels under her gown as she came down the stairs. There was a smile on her face—but it quickly dropped as he stared.

“Prompto please say something,” she said.

“You look stunning,” he said.

Well, not said so much as barely managed to whisper because he was speechless.

Under her rouge, she blushed. The light pink spread to her ears. “Thanks. Not too bad for an hour of warning, eh?” she joked.

“No. Not too bad at all. Really good. Incredible, actually,” he rambled.

Mrs. Aubade—Mama Aubade, as Prompto had called her since he was ten—ushered the two of them together for a picture. “Mom,” Aurora complained. “This isn’t a high school dance!”

“No, it’s even more important and you both look so beautiful and handsome!” Mama Aubade said. “Now smile, Rory.”

Aurora’s smile had always been breathtaking to Prompto. Even when they were kids and she had a mish-mash of baby teeth and “grownup” teeth all crowding together. After she got her braces off in high school Prompto couldn’t help but be floored every time she beamed. She smiled with little reserve. Sometimes, when she was particularly elated, or just laughing, her lower lip would curl down and she’d smile with her bottom teeth exposed too.

When she smiled for the picture, Prompto wished he could have looked. But instead he focused on the camera. “You’ll have to send that to me, Mama Aubade,” he said.

“Of course, sweetie,” Aurora’s mom said. “Now get goin’. You don’t want to be late!”

“We will. Love you Mom!” Aurora said, already fumbling for the front doorknob.

“Baby, don’t forget this!” Her mother handed her a small turquoise clutch bag with a thin strap on it to wear as a purse. “Phone. Lipstick. Compact mirror. Tissues. Call if anything goes wrong. Or if you get lost.”

“Mom. I'm twenty and it’s a royal gala. This isn’t an awkward first date!” Aurora took the clutch from her mom—and Prompto’s hand. “Love you. Don’t wait up. We shouldn’t be too late!” She pulled Prompto out of the house. He yelped in surprise and waved to her mom as Aurora shut the door. “Sorry about that. You know Mom.”

“I thought it was fine,” he said. Awkwardly, he offered her his elbow. She took it, holding the bend so he could help her down the front porch stairs in her heels. She’d been wearing heels to special occasions since she was seventeen—he knew by now she had a hard time going down stairs in heels. She could sprint upstairs in them no problem but down was too difficult. “You really do look amazing,” he added. And I’ve had a crush on you since we were twelve. Six help me.

She beamed at him, and Prompto felt like the evening was suddenly noon for all her brightness.

He’d seen her darker than a storm cloud before, but she had starlight in her eyes and smiled like the moon.

^^^^^

“You look really handsome too, by the way. That bowtie really brings out your eyes,” I said as Prompto got the door to the car for me. He smiled, circled the car, and climbed in. Usually I was nervous about how he drove, but tonight I was confident he’d do just fine.

“Don’t you remember? You gave me the tie,” he said, adjusting it as he started the car. It was a deep indigo silk bowtie that really made the violet tint to his blue eyes pop out. He pulled away from my house and headed for the Citadel. “When we were in high school.”

“No, yeah, I remember,” I said with a smile. “But I haven’t seen you wear it in forever.”

“Well… not a lotta reasons to wear bowties in my life,” he remarked. His hands were clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel.

“Nervous, Prom?”

“Uh… to be honest, yeah. Never been to a gala as a guest before. I’ve played guard duty at a few, but I’ve never been as a guest.”

I reached over and patted his shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine. Promise. You’ve got me! Mom has me properly trained in etiquette and all that outdated junk.”

Prompto laughed—a single loud “HA!”—and then shrunk against the driver’s seat. “Sorry. That was just really funny,” he apologized, shooting me a quick glance as we passed under a streetlight. “Man. You look like the northern lights tonight.”

My ears and neck grew warm. “Thanks,” I said.

Underneath his suit jacket and shirt, I caught sight of a plain black satin ribbon wrapped around his right wrist. I knew he was hiding something under it. He never left his right wrist exposed. Not even to go swimming. Even when he wore long sleeves he had something wrapped over it. I’d asked him about it a couple times, but he always shot the conversation right down so I’d given up.

“I hope you’re a better dancer than me, by the way,” he said, distracting me from my thoughts.

I laughed. “Prompto Argentum, I’ve been in ballroom classes since I was twelve, remember?”

He chuckled, but the sound was breathy and embarrassed. “I do remember. I remember you trying to teach me and me bruising your foot from how many times I stepped on you.”

“Well, tonight will go better. I'm not barefoot so it won’t do as much damage,” I teased. “’Sides, you’re more coordinated now. Right, big bad Crownsguard boy?” I couldn’t help but giggle. Mutual teasing had always been part of our friendship.

He snorted. “Right,” he agreed, traces of sarcasm flavoring his tone.

The drive to the Citadel felt pretty short when we filled it with talking. We laughed a lot too. Once we arrived, I checked my lipstick in the car’s mirror. I’d meant it to take just a second, but I’d smeared the corner a little and had to slightly fix it with a tissue. In that moment, Prompto came around and got my door for me. “Prom you don’t have to get the door when I'm getting out,” I sighed.

“Uh, sure I do. Don’t I?”

“Well technically yeah, but waiting in the car is so weird.”

“My lady,” Prompto said as I took his offered hand and let him help me climb out.

“You’re a dork,” I replied with a smile. He smiled back and looped my hand through his arm

where he was still holding it. He escorted me inside.

“Guys! So glad you made it!” Noctis exclaimed, weaving through the crowd to reach us when we entered the ballroom. “Seriously. Some duke’s been talking politics to me for like five minutes and he’s so boring he’s putting himself to sleep.”

I snorted, hiding behind my hand. “Sorry,” I said.

Noctis took a moment to take everything in about us. “Wow you guys look good together!”

Prompto turned red under his freckles. “Thanks,” he squeaked.

“Rory, you gotta show Ignis how spectacular you look. He’ll be über impressed.” Noctis gave me a sarcastic look. I snickered and let him lead us through the people to where Ignis was. I’d met Noctis’ retainer a couple times—usually when he was picking up Noctis from Prompto’s place when we’d hang out—and got the feeling that he was a piece of cardboard taped to a broom who occasionally made facial expressions.

Tonight seemed like a night when Ignis’s cardboard face didn’t want to move much.

“Hey Iggy! You remember Rory right?” Noctis asked.

“Miss Aubade and I have met on several occasions, yes,” Ignis said.

“Look at her dress! Look how awesome it is!” Noctis exclaimed—in his rather subdued way.

“Indeed. Altissian craftsmanship, I presume?”

“Uh… I think,” I said. “It was my sister’s. She wore it to a wedding in Altissia.”

Ignis definitely wasn’t as impressed as Noctis seemed to think he’d be. I wasn’t upset about it though because Ignis was Noctis’ friend, not mine. “I see. It’s lovely,” Ignis said, slightly deadpan.

Noctis glanced at me and Prompto and rolled his eyes.

Prompto tugged on my hand. “Hey Rory, may I have this dance?”

We both looked at Noctis. “Do you mind if we slip away for a minute?” I asked.

He waved us off. “Not at all. Have fun,” he said.

Prompto and I both giggled and rushed to the dancefloor.

^^^^^

“Look at ‘em, Iggy. They’ve been basically dating since we were sixteen and they’re literally the only two people on the planet who don’t realize it,” Noctis said.

Ignis grunted in agreement and took a sip of whatever was in the fancy flutes being passed around that no one would let Noctis touch until his next birthday. Ignis wasn’t terribly invested in Noctis’ school friends when there was work he could be catching up on.

Still, his interest was piqued when he saw the girl in the northern lights gown teaching Prompto to dance—where to put his hands and how to do the steps. “You didn’t mention she actually knows how to dance,” Ignis remarked.

“Oh yeah she’s been in ballroom classes since before I really met her,” Noctis said. “That important for any reason?”

“No. Just curiosity.”

Noctis blinked. “Did you think they were going to embarrass me because they’re from commoner households?”

“I didn’t have any preconceived notions about their behavior tonight. Prompto is part of the Crownsguard now. He’s attended these before and knows the protocols—or should. And I was unaware that Miss Aubade was coming.”

“Yeah, well, I told Prompto he needed to bring a date and I knew that his first call would be to Rory. He always goes to her in a crisis.” Noctis snickered.

^^^^^

“There you go. You got it. Waltz isn’t too hard, see?” I asked.

Prompto chuckled, breathy and awkward. “Uh-huh. Uh, yeah,” he said. “If you just ignore the fact that I’ve already stepped on your feet three times.”

His breathing was getting a little heavy and we hadn’t danced that hard. I knew what that meant. The anxiety was kicking in.

I let go of his shoulder, and dropped our hands, but kept mine in his. “You look like you need some air. Come on,” I said, tugging him away from the ballroom and out onto the balcony. He leaned against the railing. I copied his position and nudged him in the arm with my shoulder. “You did great, Prom. I'm proud of you.”

He snorted derisively. “How could you be? I'm a screw-up in a place like this.”

“No you’re not. I guarantee if I went into that ballroom right now and asked Noctis for a dance, he’d be even worse. And he’s the prince. Your ability to dance doesn’t determine whether or not you’re a screw-up.”

“She’s right by the way,” Noctis’ voice remarked from the entrance to the balcony. “I suck at dancing.” He gave us a wink with some finger guns and retreated back into the party.

Noctis’ birthday was in August, but that didn’t stop a chill breeze from blowing since it was after dark. I shivered, wishing I’d brought the shawl that went with my silver gown—a black thing that looked classy and elegant and kept me warm.

“Here,” Prompto said, noticing my shiver. He slid out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, tugging it at the front to secure it around me. I could smell his cologne clinging to the fabric and feel his heat lingering with it.

“Thanks,” I said with a grin. My ears grew warm. I wondered why. Why was I getting a little blushy over something he’d done five hundred times?

It wasn’t rare for him to lend me his jacket. I was always colder than he was and he didn’t like sleeves anyway.

He nodded. “Y-yeah.” Quickly he turned to look out over the balcony. The moon was rising, casting its pale light on Prompto, making his freckles almost sparkle and shine against his pale skin. “Beautiful night,” he said, shooting me a quick look. He rested his hands on the balcony. I glanced at the black ribbon around his right wrist. Shaking my head, I concentrated on the sky above us.

“Yeah. Thank you for inviting me, Prompto. I know I didn’t want to come but… any excuse to hang out with you is a good one.”

“You… you think so?”

“Of course! You’re my best friend. One of my only friends, really. There’s you and Noct and that’s kinda it.” I shrugged and pulled his jacket more securely around me, absorbing his leftover body heat.

“Oh. Well. Thanks. And thanks for coming.”

I smiled. “My pleasure.”

Impulsively, I set my hand on top of his on the railing. My pinky pushed his white sleeve up a little to expose the black ribbon better.

“Prom… when are you going to trust me with what’s under this?”

“I’m not… hiding it from you. I'm hiding it from… from me,” he admitted.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad,” I reasoned.

He scoffed. “What makes you say that?”

I curled my fingers around his and smiled up at him. “Because it’s you. And you’re the nicest, sweetest, funniest person I know. So anything you’re hiding can’t be that bad because it’s part of you.” I turned so that I was facing him. “Even if it is something bad, that doesn’t change who you are. You’re still Prompto.” My Prompto, I added silently.

The thought pulled me up short. Since when did I think of him as my Prompto? I mean, sure he was my best friend but that didn’t make him mine.

He gave me a smile. The lighting made his eyes more purple than they’d ever been before.

“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

Were we standing this close before? Or was I only just realizing that he was so close I could almost brush his torso? I swallowed. I was pretty sure we hadn’t been standing quite this near a few seconds ago. I could see the glitter of the New Wall and the stars beyond it reflected in Prompto’s eyes.

“Prompto…”

“Aurora… I—”

We cut each other off in the same moment, closing the distance between us. My arms wrapped around his neck and his arms snared my waist, pulling me flush against his torso. I took a deep breath. His jacket slid off my shoulders when I lifted my arms and landed at my feet.

After a moment, we broke apart. “I—did we just…?” I stammered, trying to figure out what was running through my mind. My thoughts were spinning too fast for me to make sense of.

“We did,” he confirmed.

“Oh good.” I pushed slightly closer into his arms. He bent down and met me with enthusiasm.

^^^^^

“Finally,” Noctis hissed to Gladio and Ignis. Gladio was snickering and Ignis looked bored. “I’ve been waiting for this for years!”

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mooglesniper · 6 years

Text

Detective Sammy and the case of the missing sis.

holy crap I haven’t uploaded in ages. This isn’t smut or any kind of shit like that, it’s just something I wanted to write after playing fallout 4 with nice valentine for like 4 hours. might do a little more with this character

The evening was rolling in over the horizon, painting the sky the same orange as the leaves as they fall to the ground while the fall of ‘55 was in full swing. I was sat on a park bench, I'd decided to take a quick smoke break while the sun was sayin' it's good nights and settlin' down for the night to let the moon take over it's shift. This job, I remember gettin' it from some dame that burst into my office wearing this cute little sunflower dress. She batted her eyes and wagged that cute little grey tail of hers as she flashed her honey dew eyes at me and spoke through a pout about some sister she'd lost recently. She told me her name was Jane and that her sister's name was Julie, When I asked why she hadn't gone to the police about this she whined and pouted, sayin' that they hadn't done nothin' about it. The whole damn case had 'bad news' flashing on it and lit up like a neon sigh hanging off a christmas tree, but I always was a sucker for a cute lost puppy in the middle of the city. So there I was, lookin' for a lost little werewolf in a city full a the damned things, not that the humans 'round here would admit that. I don't have a lead, or any suspects and yet I've been asking around about this Julie and any friends she might've had, sounds like she's a real book worm, keeps her head down in her studies and don't ruffle any feathers. "you the one? Sammy Hender?" A voice asked me from behind, a voice that sounded like they mistook gravel for mouth wash. "Yeah that's me" I respond, knowing this song and dance, no turnin' or he runs if I'm lucky, shoots me if not. "Well ain't this a surprise, I thought you were a.." "Man?" I ask, dragging from the cigarette as I slip the lighter into my overcoat, resting my hand on the revolver in it's holster " I get that alot, so did you want somethin' pal?" I ask. "I gots a lil bit of info for ya" I could hear that sneer in his voice that came when people knew of my gender. "Yeah? so speak" I reply, gripping the gun tightly as my heart begins to beat a little faster. "That gal you're chasin' she's real bad news, back off or you'll end up dead" "That a threat mug?" "Nah, a warnin'" He smirks, I hear that nast toothless grin in his voice "calm it down a lil sammy" I scowl a little as I sigh out a billow of smoke. "sam.." I answer him as he hands a piece of paper over my shoulder "here, sam..and good luck detective" he chuckles as I hear his footsteps walk away. A warning? What the hell was he talkin' about? I wait a little while until he's left as I unfold the paper and read the address that had been scrawled and scribbled into the paper. I sigh again as I step out the smoke into the ground and stand. I knew this place alright, not a place for a young lady to be headed into without a reason, or a deathwish. I replace my hat and sigh as I slip my smokes back into my coat with my lighter and walk towards my car "sorry ruby, not today" I tell my revolver "Julie huh? Just what the hell do you have to do in that part of this armpit of a city?" I ask myself as I re-read the adresss and open my car. Either Jane was lyin' to me as to why her sister went missin' or Julie hand't been tellin' her sister the entire story. Either way this left me in the dark as to why Julie was in scum central, an why I was headed toward the belly of the beast to go lookin' for her. In all honesty it felt like both situations were likely and I coulda been waltzing into a trap for all I knew, but hell I hate to leave a job unfinished. I close the car door, pulling off my hat and setting it on the seat beside me as I drive towards the address written on the paper. the car rumbles and stirs the feeling in my gut that all this smelt bad like three day old take out, I was gonna have to keep on my toes which isn't easy when you're just about the only woman in the city that dun like to wear heels.

I take my time to drive around the scenic route and avoid a few familiar faces I've met in this line of work, people just don't like their news being spread out I find. The address in question was an apartment block that stood a few stories high. I push out of my car, making sure it's locked as I replace my hat and step inside, I take a quick peek around the place. the lift wasn't working but that wasn't too much out of my way, never trusted those metal coffins anyway always preferred to use my own two feet that somethin' held up with string. I reach her apartment, or at least the one on the paper, and I find an open door, wide open. That feel grows and squats on my gut like a tonne of bricks as I step inside, hand on the inside of my coat against the handle of ruby as I scan the room. Doesn't look like they took much, or took anything since the place looked spotless, not a struggle not a thing. I step inside further, keeping my eyes flickering from left to right, then the weights just sink to the floor, blood in the door of the bedroom. I step inside and the whole place looks like someone fought, not much blood aside from the door and the struggle seems limited to the bed, that could be worse. I take my time and rummage around the room for a while, finding claw marks and scuffs around the room along with a box of cigs and matches, the matches belong to a lounge bar downtown, used to frequent the place alot before the new management. I open the pack and tap at it, a note falling out, wrapped up small as I unroll and read it.

"dear Janie, I'm guessing if you're reading this then you came looking and I wasn't here to welcome you. Look mom and dad have told me that I need to control this, I'm not like you and I could hurt someone. I'm sorry that you had to find out this way, through a letter, but if it's too late then I gotta run and get out of the way before someone else gets hurt.

I'll speak to you when I get back, I love you Janie, stay safe.

Julie."

I sigh and take a cig, lighting it up and taking a breath, rolling and pocketing the note as I move to leave, walking out of the bedroom. Open and shut, makes alot of sense now since that goon tried to warn me. Humans are such crybabies with this kind of stuff, alot of the time they'll freak out if their malt is a different shade of pink so that this mug decided she was 'trouble' was makin' a whole lotta sense. I take a key from the side of the bed and lock her door for her, look out for the landlady, let her know that my friend will be gone for a holiday, talk her ino letting Julie keep the place, always had a way with words I guess.

The next day comes in as I sip from my glass, sighing heavily and leaning back in my chair as I rub my eyes, the door opens and I smile to myself. "Umm you called me detective?" That voice, that honey voice of an angel, I turn to face Jane, taking out the note and handing it to her "your sister wasn't missing was she?" I ask as she frowns and take it, reading quietly as her face turns and twists, guilt ridden as she whines and whimpers. I can't even be mad at the poor girl. "..I'm sorry Ma'am, I just..I don't want to be alone..this place..I don't know how to live alone" she begins to ramble as I sigh and breath out a long breath of smoke as she pauses, huffing with her nose twitching. she storms around the desk and takes the smoke, stubbing it out "..my sister smokes those..they really aren't good for you" she says, her lower lip pouting out as she huffs at me. Then a lightbulb springs into my mind as I sit upright. "..Tell me somethin' pup" I say, she frowns a little, hand on her hips. "..Ever thought 'bout bein' a secutary?"

#werewolf #film noir #detective #supernatural #mooglesniper

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iwritestuffsometimes · 7 years

Text

A Better PressDay

He yawned. He didn’t realize he had. I couldn’t really blame him; doing the same thing over and over and over for months on end, answering the same questions, pretending to have never answered the question before. I should have come up with something better. I immediately regretted my decision to take the job.

“How bored are you?” I turned up a corner of my mouth in an attempt at a wry smile to hide the disappointment I felt.

“No, no this is fine. I’m just happy to get to talk about the album. I’ve been working on it for like 3 years solid and haven’t really got to talk about it so,” He grinned. I couldn’t really tell if it was a fake ‘I have to lie, this is my job’ grin or a real one. Maybe it was both.

I shook my head and sighed. “Listen,” I started. He frowned. “This is my first day. You’re my first actual on-camera interview.” I stood up. “And clearly this isn’t what I’m cut out for.” I motioned to the bare conference room with a look of as much apathy as I could muster. I could see a tinge of pink creep onto his cheeks. His eyes were wide and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. I laughed. “If I get fired for this, then, so be it.” I pulled one of the cameras off the tripod and dug my car keys out of my pocket.

“uhhh…” He looked across the room to his publicist. I cut him off.

“Despite the questions I’ve been asking,” I shrugged, “I do know a little about you. And I know that you like exotic cars.” I threw my keys at him. He caught them easily. I was surprised. From what I’d learned about him, I had expected him to drop them. “And I drive a-“

He cut me off. “A lambo!” He examined the logo on the key fob.

“I’m really fond of it.” I laughed. “But I’ve got full insurance and a go pro.” I held up the camera I’d wrenched off the stand. “I feel all stuffy in here and I’m sure you’d like a change of pace. So,” I looked at his team for the first time since I’d sat down. “If it’s okay- we could take a drive?” I looked back to him. “Just to do something different? Break up the monotony of a press day?”

He jumped to his feet. “I’m in. Do I get to drive?” His eyes flashed. He turned back to his publicist. “Don’t say no. Don’t say no. Don’t say no.” He begged. She sighed.

“I’ve got a damper on it.” I rolled my eyes. “My parents are stupid protective. It wont go over 70 miles an hour. There’s no more risk than there is when he’s driving his own car.” I said to the lady.

His face fell slightly but he seemed to still be on board. “Please, Jen?”

She sighed again and nodded. “Fine.” She, clearly begrudgingly, said. “But you’d better be careful. If you die doing one of my press junkets- I’ll never get another job.”

“You’re the best!” Hunter ran over to her and high fived her. “We’ll be back!” He followed me out of the room and down the elevator in silence. “How did I not notice a Lamborghini in the parking lot?” I laughed. “I didn’t park it in the parking lot.” He nodded. I lowered my voice. “And there isn’t a damper. I don’t know if that’s even a thing. I look young but I’m 26. My parents don’t care crap how fast I drive.”

His eyes widened. “You are a fantastic liar.” He shook his head in amazement. “I believed it.” I smirked. The elevator door opened and he kept pace with me as I walked out of the hotel and around the side to the alley. He grinned as we neared the vehicle. “This is the best day ever. I really get to drive?” He folded his arms tightly across his chest as he stared at my car.

“Well, I mean, that whole dramatic scene,’ I pointed to the hotel, “woulda been for nothing otherwise, huh?” I teased.

“You really don’t mind?” He took one step closer to the vehicle. His eyes flicked back and forth between my car and me.

“Get in already.” I smiled. He slid into the driver’s side. He frowned as he looked under the steering wheel at the gap between his feet and the gas pedal. He scooted to the edge of the chair. I laughed. “You can move the seat.”

“Oh good.” He visibly relaxed. “I mean, I was gonna roll with it but,” he reached between his legs and the seat slid forward, “this is much better.” He turned the key. It roared to life. He made an appreciative noise. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. He definitely didn’t look bored anymore.

I switched on the go pro. “Okay, so,” I turned it to face me. “This is take 2.” I leaned so that Hunter and I were both in the frame. “Hunter’s gonna drive me around while I ask him some questions.” I paused.

“Which is the best idea ever by the way.” Hunter turned his face toward the camera but kept his eyes forward. “I want every interview to be in a lambo from now on.”

“I thought you’d like it.” I mounted the camera on my window so that we could both be in the frame. “This is quite an awkward position for me,” I squirmed in my seat. My back was pressed against the center console and I was leant back at a strange angle. “There isn’t really a lotta room in these things. I never noticed until now.” I frowned. “Actually, I think you’re the first person to ever ride in my car with me.” I looked over my shoulder at him.

“Wow. I’m honored.” He laughed.

“Okay. So.” I straightened and pulled out my notebook. “First question; what’s your favorite song on the new album?” I asked.

“Uh.” He sighed. “Probably Amen-“

I turned to face him again. “That’s boring, isn’t it?” I squished up my face. “How many times have you been asked that question?”

“Today? Maybe 39. 40.” He scratched his jaw.

“Right. Well, what’s a better question?”

He laughed. “You want me to do your job for you?”

“You want me to drive?” I challenged.

“Oh, you’re good.” He chuckled. He chewed the inside of his jaw while he thought. “I don’t get to talk about the producing side a lot.”

I laughed. “Probably because none of us know what that even means.” I looked back to the camera. “I’ll edit this to make it look like I asked a really good question. You go ahead and give me the answer you want to give.” I shrugged.

His mouth fell open and he turned toward me for a beat. “You’re a really terrible interviewer.” He laughed. “I dig it.” He started in on a spiel about producing. The more he talked, the easier it was to come up with questions that felt real. I was beginning to enjoy myself, listening to him talk about his favorite guitar set up, when he interrupted himself. “Wait, where are we going? When do we have to be back?” He looked at me.

“Ya know, I didn’t think that far ahead.” I shrugged. “You’re driving, man. I have to go where you go.”

He grinned. “You’re definitely my new favorite interviewer, like, ever.” He came to a stop at an intersection. He inclined his head toward me. “Can I take the back roads?” His eyes were bright. He rubbed his jaw. “How fast does this go?”

I smirked. “Lets find out.”

He pumped his fist and squished up his face. He turned the wheel and we headed off, away from the city. He looked at the camera and chewed his lip. “Don’t tell, Jen.”

I laughed. “I’ll fix it in editing.”

a/n I’d been working on a requested fic all weekend and it was so heavy and hard to deal with (its dark but something I wanna do) and i didn’t have the balls to finish it. I’m gonna post it at some point but this happened in the interim and I REALLY like this. A lot apparently. I mean its probably boring but this is one of the longest ones I’ve written in a year. I got carried away. This feels like the most legit fanfic-y thing I’ve written ever. Does that make sense? regardless of how rambly this probably ended up being (I didn’t edit it because it was long and I was sleepy) - I want Hunt to have an interview in a car now. HE’D BE SO EXCITED AND HAPPY AND CUTE AND ITS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED. clearly i’ve been away from the internet for a week and coming back to it has made me lose my chill. Soz M8. feedback? thanks for reading. Kaythanksmateloveyoutoobye

#iwritestuffsometimes hh #hunter hayes #hunter hayes fanfiction #hunter hayes imagines #oneshot #fluff #ftlow

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