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skylermadness · 6 months

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A Minute in March (Ricky Matsui TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: March 31, 2022)

Original Description:

Say hello to the very first Dimension 20 TF in the world (probably)! This is a very long story I wrote alongside a friend of mine and I am so happy to finally share this! Ricky is honestly such a great character and to bring forth TF into him is something I am proud to do, especially something that ended up being 16 pages long in the end. This was definitely meant to be a silly thing since Ricky is frequently called Mr. March in the series, so I thought why not write a TF into him in March! I spent the past three months watching Dimension 20 and honestly it has been one of the best experiences I've had in a while! It is SUCH a great series and I fully recommend others watch it! Special thanks to my best friend for all the help editing this! They spent a lot of time doing so and I thank them so much...

New York City.

The Big Apple.

A massive, metropolitan cityscape, home to towering skyscrapers, landmarks and monuments of all kinds, and a bustling population of over 8 million people- a city that never, ever sleeps.

Though, if we were here to go over every single one of them and what their deal was, we’d be here all day, amirite?

We zoom in and find ourselves deep underground- this subway station is a crowded one, choked with people on their morning commute to work, just the same as our target… there.

Aaron Pearce, a man in his early 30s, wearing a dress shirt and tie, only slightly stained slacks, and a pair of loafers. He had been living in New York City for roughly a month at this point, having been sent here on a business trip by his company. It was a bit… jarring, at first, especially after having lived in a suburb for most of his life on the other side of the country- getting used to a life in the city where he’d see more people in a single day than he’d seen in his entire life up to that point could be uncomfortable at best, and downright suffocating at worst when he took the time to think about it.

But he’d settled down, for the most part. Gotten used to it as the weeks went on. He didn’t have the time to dwell on it, anyway- and honestly, who did, in this city? He had work to do.

Suitcase in one hand, half-eaten bacon egg and cheese bagel in another, and phone squashed precariously between his ear, chin, and shoulder, half wishing he had an extra hand to keep the darn thing from falling to the ground and cracking again. Aaron’s eyes wander listlessly across the crowd of New Yorkers sprawled out across the subway, waiting for one subway line or another. Just like he was. …And that meant he was a New Yorker himself, didn’t it?

Well… he wished it felt that way, at least.

Aaron hastily swallowed another bite of his bagel to promptly respond to the co-worker on the other end of the call, who had just posed a question with the natural expectation for an answer.

“Yeah, I’ve got everything ready for the presentation today.” He mentally ran through the list of what he had planned for said presentation at work, then while he’s at it, jumped to another project he was working on, also for work. A moment later between the call and more bites of his bagel, Aaron idly looked down at his watch, and sighed. “Do these trains ever come on time?” A soft chuckle escaped his chest as he asked. He already knew the answer.

“Not a chance- it’s a miracle we barely even get to work on time at all!” his co-worker, Marshall- also in New York on the same trip- laughs from the other end of the line.

“Yeah- though, I could swear it’s never too late, y’know? Honestly, it sort of has it’s charm like that- at least its inconvenience is consistent, right?”

“Sure seems that way. Personally, I genuinely believe it’d take nothing short of a literal act of magic to get these things to work on time.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, a smile finding its way onto his face. “Yeah, and your taxis are so much better.”

“Hm, sounds like someone’s jealous they didn’t integrate well enough to figure out how to taxi like a normal person.”

Aaron shoved the last bit of his bagel in his mouth when the conversation lulled, letting his gaze drift over to follow the subway tracks and across all the waiting people. He found his own thoughts slowing as he chewed- a short moment of respite. That did not come often in his new routine.

Even rarer, did it come, when there was only a single thought on his mind.

Shuffling his items around his now partially free arms to hold his phone properly again, Aaron swallowed his bagel quickly and spoke up, breaking the call's silence.

"You ever think about living here… permanently? Outside the business trip, I mean."

There was a short pause on the other end of the line, before Marshall answered him.

"A little, yeah. I won't lie, there's a lot in this city that beats home hands down, but the public transit really stinks. Can't stand it."

"Really? That's your only problem with this place?" Aaron snorted. He wondered if Marshall counted taxis as part of that judgment.

"...I mean, pretty much? Why?"

"I just think-" Aaron broke off and sighed. "I don't know… this is just such a nice place. Maybe it's the atmosphere, or the different weather from home, but- I just wish we didn't have to leave at the end of March."

"You sure the paycheck bump isn't starting to get to you?" Marshall joked. "Come on, you know how much of a chokehold the company's got on our work shit. No chance they're letting us stay any more than we have to so they can drop our salaries back down again."

Aaron blustered out a frustrated sigh. He knew that…

"Please, I'm being serious."

"Fine, fine, alright. …I wouldn't mind if I could stay living here for a bit longer either, I'll be honest. The food's great here, and my place is only a block away from the mall. That's walking distance! Crazy, right?" There's a sigh on the other end of the line. "I still don't think it's likely at all that the company would let either of us stay for longer- but hey, if it were to happen anywhere, it'd be here in the city of dreams now, wouldn't it?"

There was no inflection in the end of Marshall's sentence outside the humor of an intended joke, but something about it had a feeling rising in Aaron's stomach that he couldn't parse. He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden rushing of air and pressure and people announced to Aaron that his train had arrived, and snapped him out of that slight daze.

"Oh, the sub's here, gotta go."

“Well, if you want to hang up that much…”

People started walking past Aaron towards the open subway cars, and he hastily gathered his work supplies to follow.

“I’m not going to be on my phone in the middle of public transit, that’s basic public manners.” Aaron shook his head as he approached the train. “I’ll see you at work today, but do you wanna meet up for coffee sometime later too?”

“Sure, sounds good to me. Work’s got me by the wringer, but I’ll let you know when I’d be good to go. See ya at work, Pearce.”

Aaron’s phone hung up without fanfare, but it left him with a slight pause before he moved further.

“The city of dreams, huh…” he whispered to himself, feeling the weight of something he somehow knew he could hardly understand settle on his tongue. The thought did not leave his mind as he boarded the train.

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The subway car was just as crowded as the station had been, as usual. People took their seats or stood when necessary, smooshed up next to each other or having others jutt into their personal space, but they all mostly kept to themselves, retreating into their own personal bubbles as best they could amidst the uncomfortable arrangements- more unspoken public transit manners. Aaron followed suit, hastily opening up his suitcase and laptop inside it to work. His eyes ran over a PowerPoint file he had open, that he had been working on for two weeks now- an important, critical asset, highly crucial for the growth of the company and the industry as a whole.

…Or so the daily emails asking about progress updates went on and on about, as if the mere assurance of the company’s benefit from all the work and polish Aaron put into this would make the process any less of a dull slog. It’d be over soon, though, he just had to check for edits one last time before he arrived at work.

Aaron focused in on his laptop, too engrossed in his work to notice anything else that might have been happening, just as the rest of the passengers were. Not one of them noticed the near invisible wisps of something beginning to flicker through the air, trailing down the length of the subway car, gathering together with more and more wisps until they had become a swarm distorting the very air. Not a single passenger saw the little motes of motes of golden light, the same color as the sun shining through and between the city skyscrapers, floating past in the same direction, bobbing gently among the invisible current.

No one saw, and the movements of the passengers on the subway car began to slow, gently, gradually, before being left absolutely still. Aaron began to fall still in turn, his mind attributing the sensation of time passing strangely to one that occured whenever he was working hard on something, and his attention slipped off of it without a second thought. But before he could fall victim to this strange fate his fellow passengers seemed to have fallen into, however, a new feeling rose in his chest instead- his stomach jumped like he'd gone over a speed bump too fast. But wasn't he on the subway, not in a car?

The rising pressure in his chest blurred his vision, and he rubbed his eyes a little in reflex. His vision cleared just in time for another golden orb of light floating just past his eyes- that he could see.

Aaron's eyes flew wide open with shock as his gaze shot around the subway car, taking in the glowing golden lights, the wispy distortions, even the almost absurd lack of reaction from the other passengers.

Aaron distractedly shut his suitcase and laptop, his excessively checked and double checked presentation the furthest thing from his mind. He stood up, and lurched a bit- the subway car was still moving, and he quickly adjusted himself before he lost balance. Looking around at the other passengers, Aaron realized- gradually, haltingly, as if he were in a dream- that the others were not moving at all, or even breathing… like they had been frozen in time.

Aaron was not sure where the idea had come from, but it did made sense, in the moment. Something strange going on with time would certainly explain why a stop hadn't been called in so long.

Aaron walked down the aisle hesitantly, yet firmly, the subway car once familiar, now liminal. He stood against the wispy current, feeling actual pressure pushing against him, like a particularly strong wind.

In response the sensation in his chest grew, then bubbled up, and he blinked and gasped aloud. Whatever dream-like state he had been in, and whether it had only began when he stepped onto the subway or it had lasted for his whole life up to this point, he was awake and aware and alive- there was fear, and trepidation, and apprehension, but carried anticipation among it all.

He reached the head of the car and watched the motes of golden light with cautious eyes. By now the wispy current had caught enough golden light of the orbs in its wake and refracted it, scattering it around and almost seeming to bathe the car around him in a warm golden haze. His skin and work attire stood out among the gold, the lone figure moving in a frozen gold world. Just to check, he waved a hand in front of a passenger he was walking by, and did not receive an annoyed glare in return.

Aaron shuddered and let out a sigh. The liminality of the space was starting to get to him.

“Keep it together, come on.” He clapped his hands on his face and looked back through the subway car one last time. His eyes ran over the golden haze, the very air rippling and distorting in consistent enough ways as the ocean tide would, the numerous passengers frozen to the spot mid-movement, and stepped through the door to the next car.

Peering through the doorway, Aaron saw that this car was in much the same situation as the last, with time seeming to stand still for all but the tide and the subway cars themselves, still rushing through the dark. No one else experiencing the same phenomenon to talk with, as he'd silently hoped for. When asking himself what exactly had caused all of this, Aaron was truly at a loss. It could be all just a dream, that had been his first guess, or maybe some sort of work-stress induced hallucination, but it felt a bit all too real to be simply that, he knew he was just fooling himself trying to believe it wasn't…

But wasn't the only other alternative that this was all real?

Aaron went cross eyed as something passed in his vision too close to his face, snapping him out of the train of thought. Another larger mote of light, among thousands of others the size of golden dust, gently carried by the invisible current down the line of subway cars.

"What… are you?" Aaron's voice was barely a whisper, as if he was worried he'd startle it away if he spoke too loud. The light only continued to bob in response, like some sort of drunken gnat.

Whatever it was, Aaron was almost certain it was connected to the time stop. He didn't even know what they were, but curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. Aaron reached out, and closed his hand around it.

In an instant, a scene so vivid and real he could have mistaken it for one of his own memories flashed before his eyes.

The building was burning. Smoke choked the air and the flames snapped at him from all sides. A child was clinging to him as he bolted through the ember filled halls, the air laid thick with heat. He was forced to swerve and dodge as a charred beam of wood collapsed in front of him, but he stayed calm, he knew what he had to do. Something- what he had- he had to do to-

Aaron gasped and stumbled back, a headache hitting him and forcing him to release his grip. The golden mote of light still hung there in the air, though almost seeming a bit more subdued, while Aaron reconfigured. "What… was that? It almost felt like…"

He trailed off as his gaze caught on the orb of light again. His panic subsided as he gazed into the golden glow, and felt… compelled to touch it again. It wasn't finished yet, he somehow knew. Incomplete.

He took a few steps forward, and his heartrate quickened as he reached out a hand and grasped it once more.

-He knew what he had to do to save the kid.

How familiar the vision felt, how real the sensations of adrenaline and determination shooting through his veins while it played out, how foreign it should have felt but didn't even feel wrong that it had placed him in the first person perspective, it almost felt like…

"…Like a memory…" Aaron breathed, letting it play out within his mind once more.

His breathing quickened, and with each breath something began to settle within him. At first was the feeling of warmth- not scorching and ravaging, like the memory of fire had been- but a gentle warmth enveloping him, like someone bigger and stronger than him that he knew with a certainty would protect him no matter what was wrapping him up in a protective, caring hug.

Aaron somehow felt more comfortable and safe than he'd felt in the longest time- but his breathing didn't relax. His breaths instead began to deepen and strengthen, seeming to fill out his body as it began to grow. His frame expanded, shoulders broadening and shaped itself out into a sculpted, almost intoxicatingly masculine form. His shirt very quickly seemed to stretch taught under the pressure as his chest barreled out, and almost sent him doubling over. Pectorals inflated and solidified into thick slabs, together forming a massive shelf that hung over a set of hard abdominals pushing forward- all visible through his shirt, straining at the buttons.

Still carefully drinking in everything the memory had to offer, Aaron absently reached up his free hand to loosen his tie, to the relief of his neck thickening to match the proportions of his new frame. The sleeves of his dress shirt began to tighten in turn, the delts and biceps and triceps swelling and further filling out the projected shape of masculinity his shoulders had established. His larger, stronger lungs began to find- not difficulty, but rather resistance, in the form of his dress shirt- now seeming almost comically small on his larger, powerful torso.

Aaron groaned and rubbed at a building headache, inadvertently releasing his grip on the mote of light and missing that it had completely disappeared from the space it had been in when he grasped it. He undid a button or two of his dress shirt- god, he could have sworn it felt fine this morning- and glanced around at the golden haze, even more of the bobbing golden motes of light drifted down the line, carried by the tide.

"There's so many-" His throat went dry and closed up, he coughed a bit to clear it and tried again. "There's so many more of these little things, huh…" Wait- was that his voice? Did it sound different than before? It did sound different, didn't it- it was deeper, and there was an inflection in his voice that he couldn't place.

Aaron walked through the fog of gold and amidst more of those glowing golden lights, watching them closely. Part of him didn't want to bother with them further, they were most definitely related to what was happening to the other passengers. But that part was drowned out the more he thought about that memory, and how comfortable it had felt. It had been of an extremely dire situation, yes, but there had been an overwhelming sense of positivity and optimism emanating through the demeanor he held and the way he carried himself. Like he could save the day. Like everything was going to turn out alright. Like…

"Nothing bad is ever going to happen to us…" Aaron whispered to himself, finishing the thought. In an instant, with reflexes he had not ever thought himself capable of before, he reached out his arm and his hand snapped shut around another mote of light floating lazily past him. His eyes widened at the sight of his new defined, muscled arm before he was swept up in another memory.

Smoke. He could smell it on the wind, even just the faintest traces of it, miles and miles away from him and his jurisdiction. A series of scenes flashed soon thereafter, of dashing through the streets of New York, of diving into the freezing waters of the New York Bay, of swimming at what must have been nigh-superhuman speed- the ferry wasn't fast enough. All powered by that strong, ever present desire to help, and to save whoever was in danger, that simply permeated his everyday life. That sense of…

Of…

"…Civic duty…"

Aaron's arms swelled further, bulkier and muscular, as the memory continued to play, accepting it as his own. The musculature of his arms was left rock solid and truly bulging out of the sleeves of his dress shirt. Strong enough for hugs, of course, and strong enough to protect. His hands followed suit shortly after, widening palms and thickening fingers to match his larger arms, and Aaron felt the power, his power, surge through them. The strength his upper body carried was very clearly not a brutish type- but rather, a kind one.

More memories began to play- if Aaron could wrench his focus away from the visions playing in his mind, he'd see the motes of light gravitating towards him on their own, rather than aimlessly following the tide, bringing their own distinct memories- now his. As the lights began to coalesce, Aaron felt another feeling rise within him, like a light illuminating in his chest and coursing through his body, that shined the same gold as the dust around him. The light of warmth, comfort, civic responsibility and duty filled his body and mind, and he couldn’t help but relax as the light made its home in his mind. Had he been clenching his jaw so hard this whole time? Aaron rolled his broad shoulders and thick neck, smoothing out all the kinks that he’d been used to from hunching over a computer for work all day, and found his face slipping into a more relaxed grin. It was all of a sudden even harder to be worried about the “critical asset” that he needed to prepare for his work- he wanted to help people, more than anything, and the only thing the presentation would do would be helping the company. And the company wasn’t a person- so it just wasn’t as important to Aaron anymore, his priorities shifting with his demeanor as that civic light filled his mind. The train of thought made perfect sense to him.

The memory of swimming through the New York Harbor returned, and in the memory… he reached the remains of a burnt down house, somewhere on an island that he’d smelled the smoke of miles away. Aaron recalled the details that came after- there were no casualties, thankfully, and the friend of his that had been living in the house had been safe elsewhere at the time of the fire-

“Wait, I… no, that’s not right…” Aaron stepped back, laying a hand on his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. The memories were foreign, of someone else’s life, the memories were his, they were real and he’d lived through them, the memories were changing his mind somehow, the memories were confirming who he was- thoughts swirling around in his mind almost made him dizzy. Rather unhelpfully, in that moment he registered that his body was largely different from before, to which all he could think to react with was slightly furrowing his brows and uttering, “That’s definitely not right either…”

But something about it did feel right to him. All of his apprehension and fear when first approaching the lights had all but completely melted away, and he didn’t want to fear it either, anymore. He wanted to embrace it.

He lifted up a hand, smiling a bit as he took note of just how big it was, and felt around his body a little- squeezing his wrist, then his arm, occasionally trailing a finger down the noticeable indents his arm muscles had carved into the sleeves of his poor dress shirt. His hand drew over to above his heart, where the warm feeling felt the strongest.

Not because it was also where most of his massive pectorals were. Nor did he leave his hand resting on said pectorals for more than just a few moments. Nor did he play with them.

Thankfully because of the spot Aaron left his hand, he felt his chest expanding further sooner than he would have otherwise, giving him enough time for his large hands to clumsily undo the rest of the dress shirt’s tiny buttons before disaster struck. And not a moment too soon- Aaron’s eyes widened in awe as his abdominal muscles chiseled out into a rippling 8-pack, and the shelf formed by his pectorals jutted out even further, reaching their peak- at least, the result of all the hard work and working out he’d taken to get there. He was almost tempted to flex, just to show off his gains- but given the state of his strained clothes, that likely wasn’t a good idea, for now. He took to tracing his fingers around more of his bodily muscles like he did with his arms, instead- and while it did feel a bit silly and self indulgent of Aaron, it also felt… fine. There was nothing wrong with showing off his body like this- even unprompted on the subway, though he himself did feel a bit guilty for it, this was New York- people have seen weirder. Hell, he’d seen weirder, even before he was inducted into the Unsleeping City.

But nonetheless, it was all starting to feel more right. It was starting to feel like him.

It really was him.

The conclusion seemed to unlock something within him, setting off another wave of changes- this time to his work attire rather than his body. The ever-faithful dress shirt still barely clinging to his body was finally allowed its rest, as it loosened and reached over his uncovered torso to hide it again- buttons disappearing and shirt halves joining together by themselves, shirt collar disappearing into a plain shirt neck, sleeves rolled up and turned to a clear blue hue while the torso of his shirt stayed a clean white- the new nice, casual t-shirt was still quite snug enough to be… pretty revealing.

His tie undid itself and slithered down his shirt and through the belt loop holes of his slacks, though to his surprise it instead lost color and mass until it was nothing but a white string- the use of which became apparent as his pants changed next. Aaron’s nice slacks lightened from black to gray and the fabric softened to cottony material, becoming a comfortable, loose pair of sweatpants- with a white drawstring quickly tying itself into a knot at his waist. He found himself smiling softly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his new sweatpants, reaching much deeper than the slacks could carry.

The pair of loafers he wore were last to go- the slick, black cloth reshaping into something more useful, well-worn, comfortable. Aaron held out a foot to watch as the changes settled in, a roughness inlaid in the material, the laces tied messily, a tongue emerging from the top as they formed into a pair of black, yellow, and white sneakers, perfect for walking or running places easily, and safe for swim in water with. It’s good to be prepared, especially after an incident like last time.

Aaron set his foot down and let out a content sigh. His pants and shoes felt a bit big, but he didn’t doubt that would be resolved soon. He glanced down the length of the subway car in both directions. Most of the little light orbs in this car were gone, having been attracted to the man almost magnetically and absorbed, but there were still some stragglers hanging back around toward the car he had come from. He nodded to himself, “Well, might as well finish cleaning up while I’m here.”

The next few seconds could not pass quickly enough- he took step after step towards the door, and the motes of light began to draw closer to the man in return, eager to gather around him and be absorbed, in rapid succession than slow, one at a time, like they had before.

Memories played out again and again, but this time the man neither winced nor closed his eyes to think about them separately, consciously. Locations, people, contexts, so much was being given to him, the unfamiliar becoming natural, the strange suddenly making sense. It was a little headache inducing, but he wasn’t afraid. He knew he was going to like his new life… or rather, he liked his life, craziness and all. That was what he meant, right?

While the floodgates were broken and memories poured in, the rest of his body made to fit the rest of what had already been changed. Each step he took, his leg muscles grew larger, thicker. Strong quads and hamstrings and bulging calves, perfect for running or bringing help to those who’d need him. His sweatpants seemed less and less loose as his legs grew- his glutes in particular growing to fill out his pants quite nicely. At the end of his legs his feet grew larger, filling out the sneakers properly with their size.

One last sensation began to well up in the man’s large chest- one that he quickly recognized as his own magic aura of protection, emanating its calming presence as it always did- but for some reason, the man felt he could really feel its effects on himself, as if he hadn’t felt it for a while. He laid a hand on the door back to his old car, his eyes flicked back to the haze tinted gold. He didn’t need to activate his divine senses to recognize it as raw umbra bubbling up from the World of Dreaming again, like in the months leading up to Null’s attack on the city. But why was it here now…?

Another deep breath, calm, warm. He could bring it up with the friend he was meeting up for tea with, if it struck the man as concerning enough. That’s where he was going that he decided to take the subway to travel to, right? It’d be nice to see them again, his friends’ names on the tip of his tongue.

He let his eyes close and felt a bit of numbness run through his skull, as his facial structure reconstructed himself. His head grew a little larger and wider to fit the rest of his body proportions, jawline shifting into a handsome, masculine one. So many little touches, in his nose, his ears, his chin, preparing him for the man he was ready to become. His hair deepened to jet black, the style eagerly shifting from combed to short and messy, endearingly so.

The signs of a lifelong New Yorker set deep into his face, his posture, his attitude. His old knowledge of the inner machinations of corporate enterprises faded into a network of important safety information. His suddenly renewed affinity for maintaining his personal fitness and helping others with their own brought a smile to his face as he pushed open the door.

Ricky Matsui walked back into the subway car, back towards his seat.

He couldn’t really remember why he’d gotten up in the first place, but those questions were pretty quickly dismissed when he saw the golden-tinted raw umbra still permeating the subway car, all the passengers still stuck in time.

…He wasn’t sure what to do about that, still. Whoops. Although- there was at least one noticeable difference that Ricky hadn’t noticed from before when he entered the car.

Stumbling around down the aisle, knocking into time-frozen passengers and snarling at anyone they touched, was a werewolf. They had coarse, brown fur covering most of their body, and a thick mane of slightly more well groomed fur surrounding their head, though it had seen better days. Bits of fur poke out of holes from their denim jacket, undershirt, and severely torn up pants, though some may have been from intentional styling as such rather than accidents. They also seemed to be missing a shoe, revealing a large clawed paw.

If the lack of reaction from any of the passengers were any indicator, the werewolf seemed pretty out of place. It could be another manifestation of anti-populi, which Ricky could dispatch here and now if that was the case… his eyes flicked over to his silver bat he’d left at the side of his seat. For one strange moment, the thought of swinging it like a club to attack someone almost seemed absurd and silly- before he blinked and remembered that’s how baseball bats were used in the first place. He shook away the strange thought and returned to the most pressing matter.

It didn’t really seem likely that they had to do with anti-populi, though, since it seemed to be localized to just one person. Ricky sniffed the air with his enhanced sense of smell, and tasted the smell of alcohol coming from the creature’s muzzle. Poor guy must have been pretty drunk, and badly handling it- he might be the violent type, based on the way he was acting. But maybe if Ricky could just calm him down a little…

Ricky cautiously trodded towards the seat the werewolf had collapsed into, and sat down in the open empty seat next to them, actually a few seats down from where he got up from. Throwing up Calm Emotions on top of his Aura of protection, he opened with a simple “Hey.”

The creature’s eyes focused in on him from where they were darting around erratically. They growled for a moment, then sputtered in a guttural, yet vaguely Irish accent, “…hey.”

“You, uh… doin’ alright?”

They snarled instead of answering, and irritatedly scratched their arm, inadvertently adding a few more rips to their jacket.

Ricky hummed. That was pretty stupid of him to ask. “What’s your name?”

The werewolf practically scowled at him. “Jawbone. Jawbone O’Sss..” his speech slurred a little, “...ssh..shaughnessey.”

“I’m Ricky Matsui,” Ricky reciprocated, giving his full name back, with a smile and a thumbs up. Something about the gesture tugged a bit of a smile on Jawbone’s muzzle, but he turned away and scratched himself some more, and harder. Ricky raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to talk about what’s got you, uh, real bummed?”

“‘m drunk on a train, fer one thing,” Jawbone glanced around at the subway car and its frozen passengers. “Wrong train, too. I tried to get off before it started moving, but too many people got in the way and nobody even looks at me when I ask for directions. Nobody ‘til you now, anyway…”

“Yeah. I think something weird is going on, on top of all that? In like, the magic kind of weird, I mean. Uh, you’re really scratching yourself a lot, are you good-”

“Allergies.” Jawbone snapped, growling at the other passengers again, who remained blissfully unaware. “Apparently these arseholes don’t seem to know it’s polite to conceal their silver in public spaces!” Jawbone raised his voice through the sentence and spat out the last part.

Ricky’s thoughts immediately jumped to his magic silver baseball bat and winced.

“Uhh, hold on-” Ricky leaned back over to his seat and knocked over his bat, and rolling it under the seat it was leaning against. Thankfully, that was the only thing he had brought with him on the subway. “Sorry about that, realized it was at least partly my fault-” Ricky startled a bit when Jawbone just seemed to start crying at the gesture. “Hey, hey, it’s okay!’

“It… it really ain’t,” the werewolf choked out between sniffles, “This entire day has been utter shite. First I forgot to take my meds before heading to work, hoped I wouldn’t get sensory overload, got sensory overload, you know how it is. Didn’t bring any backup medication on me either, so I had to improvise and tried snorting some drugs I had on me to help, but didn’t- turns out something I thought was cocaine was actually something else I’d never even heard of before, that I’m not even sure was drugs! No idea how I got to this place, I don’t know where the hell I am, and as best I can gather I’m not even on a train bound for out of the city!” Jawbone began pouring out, Ricky doing his best to support Jawbone physically before he collapsed from a stroke, or something.

Ricky rubbed Jawbone’s shoulder, and when he didn’t resist, brought him closer into a consoling hug. “I’m sorry, that sounds really messed up.”

“Ricky, you’re… the only person who’s actually noticed me and talked to me this… entire time,” Jawbone sniffled between hiccups.

A soft, golden glow began to emanate from Ricky’s hand as he rubbed the werewolf’s shoulder. “Hey, I bet I could help you. I’ve lived in New York all my life, I’ve gotten the hang of the subways pretty well, I can help you get back on track, once we hit a stop and I, uh, know where we are at the moment.”

The sniffling began to slow as not only Ricky’s calming, civic aura helped wash away Jawbone’s anxiety and fears, but even the mundane act of someone offering to help in his time of stress helped bring Jawbone back from the angry, hostile mess he’d been earlier.

“Yeah… yeah, I’d like that…” The werewolf looked up at Ricky’s face one more time, with a look in his eye that was likely meant to look different when not drunk and potentially high. “Gods, annyone ever tell ya yer hot as Ffffffffffffffuc-k?” Jawbone popped that last -k out loud in his mouth, then groaned to himself. “Uuuugh, ‘m usually way better at this, even when smashed, I swear…”

Ricky laughed in spite of himself. “Sorry, I’ll have to ask my partner about it before we think of adding a third.” He’d give Jawbone the chance to make a better first impression than this encounter before he made any solid judgments himself, too. “But yeah, I do get recognized a lot as Mr. March from the Firefighters’ calendar. Or at least, the 2019 version…”

The two of them sat there and talked for what felt like hours, Ricky talking about his friends, and Esther, and his time being a firefighter, and Jawbone told him about some wild and often drug filled escapades, rattling off lists of drugs so many drugs and the amazing partners he’d had in the past, surprising Ricky that Jawbone had apparently settled down and was a dad himself too- well, Ricky wasn’t one yet, but he would be one very soon- and gotten a job as a school guidance counselor. Jawbone hadn’t itched or scratched once, and Ricky’s aura seemed to really calm him down. He felt so calming, even talking to Ricky was a soothing experience.

As time went on, or rather didn’t go on, it was a surprise for the both of them when the train sounded the soft ding that played before a stop was called. “Now arriving, Elmville Station.”

Jawbone’s wolfish ears perked up. “Elmville… that should be my stop…”

Ricky grinned and gave his shoulder a little shake. “Hey, that’s great! Maybe you weren’t on the wrong train after all.”

“I uh… maybe.”

Jawbone stood up, a little shakily, as the subway began to slow. The doors opened once fully stopped, and Jawbone made to walk over, but paused to give Ricky a wave of departure. Ricky beamed back at him and gave a wave back. With one last pang of warmth in his chest, Jawbone only slightly stumbled leaving the cars- onto a station platform that looked to have been built outdoors in the open air, that Ricky didn’t recognize. It almost looked more like a classic railway station than a subway stop.

Ricky wasn’t given too much of a chance to dwell on it, though, as the doors closed and the subway began moving again. Ricky watched as the golden haze of raw umbra finally began to dissipate and the other passengers began to move again, continuing about their business as if nothing had ever happened. Ricky didn’t have any business to work on himself, he was just there for the ride to Pete’s tea shop-bookstore, but he was glad that everyone in the area was safe.

…There was a strange sense of finality that hung in the air, now that he was back in the waking world, but he couldn’t tell why or what for.

He shrugged.

“At least this would make a nice story to tell Cody.”

As if on cue, the train dinged and Ricky’s stop was called. He didn’t know what that feeling meant, or what caused it, but somehow, he was almost certain it wasn’t a bad thing. A part of him that seemed to know better than he himself did seemed to prefer it, even. Whatever “it” was.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Dude, wait, so you’re telling me you saw a werewolf on the subway and he was just. Chill?”

“Yep. I mean, no, he was pretty down on his luck, but he turned out alright when I helped him out.”

“Dope… that’s got to be like, the coolest werewolf on a subway story I’ve ever heard. Even though I only knew of one other before this one.”

Ricky was definitely right, Cody did end up hooked hearing about this experience of his.

“Yeah, and he told me a lot of stories about doing crazy stuff while on a lot of drugs- some of which sounded made up, but like, I don't do drugs myself so I couldn't tell anyway."

"That’s so cool, dude. So wait, like- if he was on the wrong line, you think he might've been from Jersey or something?"

Ricky sighed. “Honestly, I hope not. I don’t think I could take Esther to go visit him if he was, even if I was sure I wanted to.” He shook his head. “But I dunno. Part of me was thinking it could have also been anti-populi, but it seemed a bit too localized for that. Maybe it’s just weird dream world stuff?”

Their friend Pete arrived from nearby, pouring them refills of tea from his arcane focus teapot, which also served just delicious tea. “Might be- but I think it might have been part of something weird going on instead, I’ve been getting some weird vibes between the Waking and Dreaming worlds lately.”

Cody looked at Pete in surprise. “Damn- you think it’s that serious?”

Pete nodded. “I was gonna message the group about it earlier, but I was bit busy to do it until you reminded me just now, actually.” He pulled out his phone and started texting with one hand, preparing to close the shop with the other. “You guys up for checking it out today?”

“Yeah, my shift at the Fairyland park ended an hour ago, so I’m good to go. You, Ricky?”

“Yep, I’ll text Esther and let her know.”

Even though they were only in the researching and planning stage, a glow of anticipation lit up in Ricky Matsui’s heart. The time to once again help and protect New York City from danger he could feel was fast approaching, and he could not wait to stand together with his fellow Heroes of New York to do so.

#character tf #human tf #transformation #male transformation #muscle growth tf #tf

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aquariusshadow · 3 years

Text

Live!Blogging Hsmtmts s2x10

Another Live!Blog at a decent time? Man, what did I do to get this lucky.

Portwell…..plz…….plz make me feel things. I’m begging you. Also, Rickerapy content we need more of that. No Rini make-up/back together. I’m too tired for that.

Lesssssss gooooooooooo

Nooooooooooooooo seblos confliiiiiiiiiiiict

These two were my wholesome “no conflict” ship

I mean ik conflict helps characters and relationships grow

But ive been through too much switching from Rina to Portwell

My poor heart cant take anymore conflict

Finally seeing ricky and Ashlyn act together

Shgjsdhfljsfh ricky stop

Sir

Youre supposed to be dying

I don’t think this is supposed to be this funny

No miss jenn

Its not working

Don’t sugar coat

Are we seeing a new friendship duo??? Ricky/Ashlyn friendship rights in the future???

Ricky that should tell you something if you keep breaking up and getting back together with the same person…over…and over..

Like something wasn’t working

I love how carlos refers to miss jenn as “Mother” lmao

Poor natalie

She doesn’t deserve this mask abuse

We love kourt coming in clutch

Ahlkjdslafsdjfalhsdf

I need to stop freaking out at every little portwell interaction ahaha

Lily

Why

How

Im tired

Big red should’ve turned on the power drill when lily talked shit on him hahaha

DO YOU GET DÉJÀ VU?!

Sorry sorry

Stream Sour everyone ehehe

I do really like mazarra’s and miss jenn’s interactions haha

Awwwwwww seb

Precious bby

Carlos loves you for you :D

Yaaaaaaaaaay everyone’s being sweet to gina about ej

Uh oh

We love honest gina telling nini about the chocolates fiasco

Hmmmmmm now this is interesting

I don’t blame nini for not being happy that no one told her about the chocolates thing

Hehehe ricky called ej ‘pretty boy’

not me carefully watching ricky’s reactions to the ej/gina conversation

yea he’s just concerned about the nini aspect

is mr mazarra

playing therapist for miss jenn

omfggggggggg

are these two gonna finally get together?

Cmon its there its obvious

Hand holding and cute fist bumps I mean come on

I really like how ricky’s reaching out to others in their friend group

Definitely shows us really cool and interesting dynamics

One thing that would be nice tho

After ricky is done talking to carlos about nini

HOLY SHIT HE’S ACTUALLY HELPING OUT CARLOS WITH SEB

I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SAY HOW NICE IT WOULD BE TO SEE RICKY START DOING THAT

WE LOVE RICKY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

Im so proud of my bby boy

Hjahldfhdjflsdfas

What

Carlos

“a high C is the bottom of my range”

Holy fucking shit that’s impressive

Nini

I get it

I do get why youre upset

But

Can we just

Hold off on the passiveness

Until when youre not focusing on the bigger picture

“Hey G,” voice crack heasdjlhfasjdfasdfas

Dfajdlfsdjfalhdsfjasdfasfdasdfasd

He did it

HE DID IT

HE ASKED HER OUT

FOR RISOTTO

YES

SHE SAID YES

PORTWELL CANON PORTWELL CANON PORTWELL CANON PORTWELL CANON

ITS HAPPENING PEOPLE ITS HAPPENING

Awwwwwwwwwwwwww carlos is serenading seb

This is so cute

Also his VOICE

HIS RANGE IS SO PRETTY

Seblos is my comfort ship ok

Seblos is my security ship ok

This song is super catchy

My hearttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

HIS WHISTLE TONES

CARLOS

NEEDS MORE SOLOS

I love this so much

Awwwwww ricky and carlos hug

That was so sweet

We need more of these interactions

……………

I knew something was gonna go wrong

Portwell is canon. It’s happening. It’s happening. Also, Seblos was so cute this episode my heaaaaaaaaart.

#high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #live!blogging hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2x10 #portwell #seblos #rickerapy #ricky character growth #gina porter #ej caswell #seb matthew-smith #carlos rodriguez #ricky bowen #man just as ricky was finally doing better mentally #really gotta put him through the ringer again dont we

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wwenhlimagines · 2 years

Text

Sit On My Lap - Hook Imagine (Part 2)

Part 1

Warning: discussions of smutty actions

After Hook leaves the room, you take a few minutes to yourself to reflect on what just happened before going to catering and grabbing some food. You watch Hook's match on one of the TVs with Anna Jay sat next to you as you nibble on the goodies in catering. "So how is it going with you two?" You smile looking at Anna "We are great. He makes me feel so comfortable and understood when he talk and he always puts my feelings first." She smiles and leans closer "And... tell me more girl. I've seen the way you come walking out of that locker room." You blush "Anna, do we really have to talk about this right now? I'm trying to watch my man kick some ass." She nods "It can wait until the bell rings." You giggle and turn your attention back to the TV.

You see him suplexing Dante and your eyes focus on the way his hips move. The quick pop of his hips to throw Dante over has you crossing your legs as you feel yourself getting wet. You subconsciously bite your lip and Anna Jay takes a mental note to pick on you for it. A few minutes later, Hook gets Dante to tap out and you cheer quietly as to not draw too much attention to yourself. Ricky and Hobbs go get him and help him celebrate as they make their way backstage.

As soon as he is out of frame, Anna nudges you and winks "So it's THAT good." You shake your head and look at her confused. "Oh trust me girl! I saw the way you bit your lip and crossed your legs during those suplexes." You roll your eyes and blush "Okay fine. Yes it's good. Really good actually." She squeals as she sees you gush and think about your adventures between the sheets with him. "I figured it was good because you have been a lot happier lately. I'm so glad you finally found a man who knows how to take care of you." You smile and nod before winking at her "He's the best I've ever had and I don't plan on letting him go."

Anna smiles and looks behind you giggling lightly. You turn around and find Hook standing there with a smirk on his face and his hands on his hips. You blush and turn back around to look at Anna who is enjoying this way too much. "Babe, I'm going to finish my snack then I'll meet you in the locker room." You sheepishly look back at Hook as he leans in and gives you a peck on the lips before whispering in your ear. "You better prepare yourself for the best you've ever had." You shove him playfully as he laughs and walks away waving goodbye to Anna. You rub your hands over your face as Anna laughs next to you. "Girl, you better hurry up and eat or else I think he might just come back and snatch you up." You nod and eat the last few bites before hugging Anna and saying goodbye. "Go get him tiger!" You laugh and walk back to the locker room.

The show is wrapping up, so when you enter the locker room everyone is packing up. Hook gets out of the shower and walks out in just a towel winking at you as you hand him his clothes and pack everything else up. He goes to get changed as Hobbs and Ricky start to head out and Taz comes over to you. "Y/N I'm not sure what you said to him before that match, but he was more focused and sharp in that match. Keep it up sweetheart!" You smile and give him a hug as Hook walks out and smiles at the two of you. "Don't be telling her embarrassing stories Dad." You smile as Taz ruffles Hook's wet hair and says goodbye as he leaves the locker room.

Hook smiles at you as he puts on his hoodie and backpack before grabbing your hand and leading you out to the rental car. He opens the door for you before getting in the driver's seat and driving out onto the streets of whatever town you were in that night. You pull up Google Maps and direct him back to the hotel as his right hand lays on your thigh slowly sliding up. You try to grab it with your own, but it only lasts a few seconds before he latches back onto your thigh. "Babe, I love you, but you need to stop. I can't focus on the directions with you doing that." He smirks and squeezes your upper thigh "Doing what sweetheart?" You roll your eyes and sigh as you pull into the hotel parking lot.

Hook grabs his backpack and you grab your stuff before you walk into the hotel and find your way into the elevator. When an empty elevator arrives, you both step in and when the doors close he pins you against the wall. "So... I'm the best you've ever had?" You blush and roll your eyes "Can this wait until we get to the room?" His hips press into yours as the elevator nears your floor. "It's a simple yes or no question Y/N." You look him in the eyes "Yes." He nods and backs up as the elevator doors open gesturing for you to go first. You walk off the elevator as he smacks your ass and laughs as he jogs down to your room. You groan playfully and follow him as he opens the door and let's you in first. You throw your purse onto a nearby chair as Hook drops his backpack on his luggage.

You turn toward him to see him looking in the mirror fixing his hair and flexing. "If you are going to try to pull that shit, at least take off your clothes so I can enjoy the show babe!" He smiles and takes off his hoodie and t-shirt in one swift motion. He turns to you shirtless and flexes his arms "Since I'm the best you've ever had, I guess I could give you a show babygirl." You roll your eyes and sit down on the bed "Why did you have to hear me say that?" He takes your hands and kisses your palms. "What can I say? I have good timing." You smirk and lay back on the bed. "Prove it."

Tags: @rdhester1987 @eddiekingstonsgirl89 @oliviasinematic @nevertoofarfromivar @hooks-martin @lclb13 @missihart23 @whitelotusfighter @thesupreme316 @hdbngsprnva @louisianalady @plentyoffandoms @moxleyunstable

#aew hook imagine #aew imagine #aew hook #aew smut #aew hook smut #hook imagine #hook aew

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

Enemies

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; You and Spencer have always been at each others throats, what happens when you both finally snap?

Warnings; smut, unprotected sex, degradation, choking, hair pulling, impact play, slight exhibitionism

a/n; this is a product of my obsession with early season spencer having a dirty side no one knows about and you can’t change my mind

***

You loved your job. You really did. Growing up you knew you wanted to go into a job which would let you help others. That was just who you were, always selfless and ready to spring into action to be there to comfort anyone in need. This made you fit in perfectly with the rest of the team. They were all a family who welcomed you with open arms.

Well all of them except Spencer fucking Reid.

No one on the team knew why there was so much animosity between you two. Being the youngest ones there they figured you’d end up being two peas in a pod. Yeah that didn’t happen. Penelope describes the first time you met being like two cats fighting.

It was the way he always had to be right which just rubbed you the wrong way. Yeah you liked to prove points and make powerful statements but you didn’t make that your whole personality. It was like he lived to cut you off mid sentence just to see you practically blow steam out of your ears.

However being one to never back down, you had to match his energy and mess with him back. It started off simple with little office nuisances like hiding his pens or taking out all the staples in his stapler. But as he caught on, the snarky remarks on his side increased. And you couldn’t let that slide. So you had to up the antics, anything to wipe the stupid smirk off his face.

Everyday you woke up with a mental list on how to piss him off. Sometimes you’d help JJ pass out the files for the day and right when you’d get to Spencer you would lick you thumb to sort out the individual paper knowing about his germaphobic ways. You’d sit in your seat smirking to yourself as he scowled trying not to touch the contaminated edge.

Petty tactics soon turned into heated arguments about the smallest things. Like who was able to call shotgun to drive with Morgan, which usually ended with Hotch making you both sit in the backseat like grounded teenagers. You felt bad for the increasing lines on his forehead you knew the both of you caused. But it was never your fault, Spencer started it so you had to finish it.

Today was no different. You had flown out to a case in California. During the flight the younger members sat in the four seats facing each other with Spencer sitting on the couch in front of it, while Hotch and Rossi sat in the seats towards the back discussing Jack’s soccer team.

“Last time I was in L.A. was for spring break in college. I met a pretty girl, had some fun. I wonder what she’s up to,” Emily said casually.

Morgan extended his fist for her to bump then spoke out, “Pretty Ricky over here had some lovin the last time we were here too,” he said ruffling Spencer’s hair. He scrunched his nose trying to tame the brown locks which now reached his shoulders.

JJ spoke up from digging into her bag of cheetos, “Yeah, Lila right? Did anything ever happen after?”

Spencer cleared his throat before speaking up, “N-nothing happened after we kissed. I saw her again and that’s it.”

You picked up your head from resting on Emily’s shoulder, “What couldn’t get it up genius?” you snickered. The girls made noises of disgust while you and Morgan laughed.

“For someone so hot that was certainly cold mama,” he said shaking his head.

You looked over to see Spencer glaring at you, his brown eyes turned into little slits, to which you smiled and closed your eyes sleeping on Emily’s shoulder for the remainder of the flight.

It had been three days since the case had started. You were dealing with someone who was killing older women, obviously surrogates for a maternal figure or lack of. With Penelope’s expertise you were able to find who it was but now you needed the reason behind it. The rest of the team was out searching his house and job, which he hasn’t visited for the past month. Hotch had made you and Spencer stay back to look at victimology and dig deeper with Garcia to find something about his life.

Safe to say you guys were not seeing eye to eye about the unsubs motive. While you believed he was killing them because of his mother’s absence in his childhood, Spencer came to the conclusion that it was because she was too controlling over his life and manipulated him. You had both approached Hotch and he sided with Spencer on this. You couldn’t help but shoulder check him as you walked out of the conference room.

After that, the last part was to catch the unsub which you were all involved in the take down. Luckily it went by smooth as Derek was able to deescalate the situation. It was late at night and the team decided to wait and fly back in the morning. Having one last night in the hotel you decided to get a few snacks from the tiny pantry that was in a room around the corner from yours and watch a movie before bed.

While you were bent over picking out some chips you heard the door open and footsteps approaching. You quickly got up and started apologizing for being in the way until you saw who it was.

“Oh it’s just you,” you said rolling your eyes and looking back at the snacks.

He scoffed before responding, “Listen Y/n I know you’re mad Hotch sided with me instead of you but at least be a little mature.”

You stood up pointing your finger at chest, “Listen Spencer,” you said mocking his words, “I know you’re a submissive little bitch who lives for approval, so why don’t you go suck Hotch’s dick some more and leave me alone.”

You were about to turn around again when his hand grabbed you by the wrist you had pointing at him. He pulled you to his chest, leaning down so your faces were inches apart.

“I dare you to say that again.”

You gulped as he spoke. You had never been this close to him. You could feel his breath on your face as you inhaled the scent of his sweater. Peppermint. Your eyes trailed from his wet pink lips up to his caramel eyes which were boring into yours. You didn’t know how much time passed until he spoke again.

“Who’s the submissive little bitch now,” he said emphasizing by switching his grip. His hand let your arm go and instead found its place in the back of your head, cocking you back by your hair to strain your neck to look up at him. You let out a whimper at the pain cursing in your scalp.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. Your breathing was getting heavy and he wasn’t even doing anything. Of course he noticed much to your dismay.

“Oh don’t tell me this is turning you on,” he cooed lowly.

You sucked in a breath, trying to rub your thighs together in search of friction. He looked down and saw you shifting your weight on your feet, an evil smile on his face.

“I bet you’re just soaking through those little pajama shorts,” he said leaning to whisper in your ear. His unoccupied hand drifted down between your legs, rubbing on your clothed heat. You nodded as you huffed out a sigh.

“Tell me what you want.”

You could feel your face get hotter than it already was. Your throat was dry from the anticipation building up, “I want you Spencer.”

“I know you can do better than that sweetheart.”

You almost moaned at the name. It took everything in you to muster up the courage to ask him such a lewd request.

“I want you to fuck me Spencer,” you all but whined, “I want it so bad. Please! Make it hurt sir.”

With that he let go of your hair and stepped away as if nothing happened. He looked you up and down, taking in how disheveled you looked.

“Go to your room and wait for me at the edge of the bed with nothing on. Leave the door open so I can get in. You have 5 minutes.” With that he turned on his heel and left.

You were gaping like a fish for a while until his words sunk in you dropped the snacks in your hands and speed walked into your room. You chucked off your slippers in a corner and peeled off your sweater and shorts. You were about to remove your bra when he walked in and closed the door, making sure the ‘do not disturb’ sign was on the handle.

He strode over to where you were you kneeling. He grabbed your jaw in his hand while the other went to his belt.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see a single fucking piece of clothing on you.”

“I’m sorry sir,” you tried to whimper out.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it. You wanted me to make you hurt? I’ll make it hurt princess.” You knew he was a man of his word. And that was a promise he was going to make sure he followed through on.

“Bend over the bed.”

You got up quickly not trying to further anger him. You debated turning around to look back at him. The sound of clothes dropping to the floor had you shaking in anticipation.

He approached you placing one hand in the center of your back, making you instinctively arch it, your clearly soaked panties on display for him to see. He had his belt in his other hand which he trailed on your behind. You weren’t ready for the blow. The surprise impact made you let out a moan.

“Fuck Spencer,” you mewled.

You heard the belt whizz in the air before you felt the impact, “Who?”

“Sir! Please fuck me already,” you basically sobbed out.

He dropped the belt and hooked his fingers into your panties, tugging them down hastily, “Yeah say it louder. Let the whole floor know who makes you such a fucking mess. Who’s slut are you?”

His hands dipped into your folds gathering you dripping essence before spreading it around and teasing your entrance with his finger.

“You, sir! I’m your slutty mess,” you could feel the tears starting to slip past your eyes and he had barley spanked you.

You let out a whine of dissatisfaction when he removed his fingers. However just ask quickly you felt his throbbing cock line up with your soaking cunt. You could feel inch by inch as he slid in slowly. You hissed at the stretch and he let out a groan and silent curse. That was the only peace he have you before he started fucking you with a quick pace.

The moans were slipping out of your mouth but you tried to hide them by biting on the cotton sheets. Spencer was having none of it. He pulled your head up by your hair, using it as leverage as he rammed into you from behind.

“Such a greedy fucking cunt. Take my cock like the perfect fucking whore you are,” he gritted out. His harsh words lit you aflame. You swore you could cum from them alone.

“Harder sir fuck! I need it,” you were moaning in between sobs. He was hitting a spot you never knew you had inside you. You knew no matter how hard you tried to replicate it later, nothing could compare.

Without slowing his pace he lifted one of your legs onto the bed. Your knee was digging into the sheets as he kept his bruising pace. You wanted faster so he complied. You could feel the marks forming on your hip where he was holding onto you.

You knew there would be a noise complaint sent to your room. The sound of skin slapping and your desperate moans bounced off the walls. However Spencer wasn’t quiet himself, the groans he let out behind you were driving you mad.

He could feel your walls clenching on his cock. The hand on your hair shifted to your throat as he started to add pressure. Broken moans were having a hard time slipping out of your lips.

“That’s it princess. You wanna cum for me?”

You tried nodding the best you could letting out a broken “Please”. He let up the pressure on your throat, letting you take in air.

“Please,” he mocked how desperate you sounded and laughed, “be my good little slut and cum all over my cock.”

His hand slipped down to your aching clit rubbing quick circles. With a few more thrusts of his length perfectly hitting your cervix you came. The breath was taken out of your lungs. You trembled as he continued to search for his release, stars prickling behind your eyes. He never let up on your clit. The overstimulation quickly building up a second orgasm.

“Sir I ca-can’t take it,” your hand reaching back to try and stop his thrusts. You knew you could. You were drowning in the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“You can and you will,” he said pinning your hand behind your back. You trembled as you came for a second time. You let out moans of his name and curses, which triggered his release.

He stilled his movements, spilling his warm seed inside your aching cunt. He stayed there for a minute as you both caught your breathes. You sighed at the loss as he pulled out. You could feel your mixed release dripping down your thighs.

He reached down to grab his boxers and pulled them up. You felt him walk away for a minute then return with a damp towel to clean you up.

“Can you stand?” he asked and you nodded pushing yourself up to avoid adding pressure on your surely red behind.

While he helped you pull on a tshirt you heard a knock on the door.

“We will talk about this tomorrow agents.”

Fuck. You shared a look of wide eyes before groaning. That was going to be an interesting conversation.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #chellewrites

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

welcome to the jungle {frankie morales}

summary: after taking a job with the delta guys, you cross paths with frankie morales. even though you’re at each other’s throats at first, it proves to be the start of something beautiful. (for @what-the--curtains - i hope you enjoy!!) - 7k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of ptsd

this is kinda ambiguous in terms of the timeline of the film but i sort of hint to the first half being before the events of t.f and the second half being after -- with that said, you can take it as you would like :D

- jazz

Your brother had dog sat for a few days.

In exchange, you were flying out to Colombia in the middle of your work week.

You believed in favours, but these two did not feel like they were equal.

Still, you were a person of your word - and getting to fly to South America was exciting. The job itself was exciting, if not a little...eyebrow raising. His friend, an ex-Delta soldier, needed somebody to ID a body. That part didn’t bother you - you were a forensic archaeologist after all and it was quite literally your job description. The suspicious bit was the circumstances under which you were doing it; Santiago Garcia hadn’t been entirely clear on the phone, but he’d said something about witnesses and getting the government off of our backs. You’d met Santiago a few times and you knew what kind of work he did - military stuff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was probably an under-the-radar kind of affair. But, you’d never been one to back down from a challenge.

So, here you were on a warm Colombian Tuesday afternoon, suitcase trailing behind you as you trekked towards a dusty old air base. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on your back in a way that had initially been comforting, but was now just plain annoying. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but packing three jackets now felt like a stupid idea. The one one you’d worn on the plane over had been long discarded and tied around your waist, which only added to the struggle of dragging your case up the steep, sandy hill. In the distance, you could see an ATC tower glinting under the sun - the streams of light bounced right back off of it, causing you to shield your eyes with your forearm. The taxi you’d gotten from the international airport - not like this sandy little place - had only taken you so far. At least, of all things, the boots you’d opted to wear were built for this kind of thing.

A few hundred meters up the road, you finally saw another sign of human life. A 4x4 was parked outside the abandoned terminal entrance, three men leaning against the side of it. You spotted Santiago standing a few metres away on his phone, thumbs tapping away. He didn’t look any different to the last time you saw him; dark and curly hair, a semi-friendly smile and stubble littering his chin. You hadn’t seen him since your brother’s birthday party a few months ago.

‘Hey!’ The former soldier offered you a grin when he saw you, holding his arms open. ‘Long time, no see!’

‘Hey, Santi!’ You replied, giving him a pat on the back as he pulled you into a hug. ‘And yeah, it’s been a while. Then again, when was the last time you were in the country for more than five minutes?’

‘I’m in high demand.’ He shot back.

Pulling back from the embrace, Santi pointed to his colleagues. There was Will and Benny, two blonde boys, both in military gear. It didn’t take much to figure out that they were brothers; same smirk, same stance, same eyes. Even if Santi hadn’t pointed it out, you would have figured as much. You were naturally deductive - came with the job. After the brothers, there was Frankie. He had dark eyes and hair, the latter of which was covered by his hat. Unlike the other three, he was wearing more casual clothes, just with a tac vest over the top. You kind of got the vibe that he didn’t want to be there - that was...comforting.

‘What’s all this?’ Frankie asked, gesturing to the heavy metal suitcase behind you.

‘Just...stuff. Tools.’ You replied. ‘Things I need to do my job, I guess.’

‘How heavy is it?’

‘Light enough that I was able to get them onto a commercial flight?’ You offered.

‘The plane is already at max weight.’ He replied, brown eyes flickering up to meet yours.

‘God, give ‘em a break, Fish!’ Santi slapped him on the shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Remember last time you said it would be fine-’

‘- hey.’ He cut him off with a harsh look. ‘We don’t talk about that.’

‘So I can bring them?’ You raised your eyebrows. ‘Because I can’t do whatever it is you need to do unless I have them.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be fine.’ Santiago gave you a comforting smile. ‘Let’s head to the jet and we’ll talk about the job.’

Swinging your duffle bag back over your shoulder, you picked up your suitcase and began to follow the guys further up the hill. There wasn’t anybody else around -- just sand, sun and rusting old jets. There was one in particular that they seemed to be headed towards. It was only mildly less eroded than the damaged ones around you, but the engines were running and the cargo doors were open. Santiago took your bag from your hands as you approached it, tossing it in with the other luggage.

‘Do not throw that one, Garcia!’ You demanded, flinching slightly as he took your suitcase.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He shot back.

‘Sure thing.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘You brought a medkit right?’

‘No. Why?’

‘There’s one in my duffle bag.’ You replied. ‘Side pocket. Can you grab it?’

‘We don’t need one, we’ll be fine-’

‘- Santiago Garcia, do you want me to report back to my brother that you took his baby sibling on a jungle-wide expedition without the correct medical supplies?’ You challenged.

Santi swallowed, mind briefly flashing back to the time he’d almost been decked by said brother for letting you walk home alone. ‘Fine.’

Your triumphant smile only lasted a split second; as soon as your eyes fell on the plane, you realised you still had to get on it. Fuck.

The engines seemed to be working fine, but it was just...old. And eroding. And making a funny sound. You were by no means an engineer, but even just binging a few episodes of Air Crash Investigations made you feel qualified enough to know that this was not where it was at in terms of air safety. You could have taken it up with Frankie, but he didn’t seem entirely approachable.

You did trust Santi, however - though sometimes that seemed a little against your better judgement. Every crazy story that your brother had relayed back to you from their time in the military involved him making questionable decisions. Hopefully, opting to fly this hunk of metal wouldn’t be one of them. Here’s to hoping it was aerodynamic.

‘Are you getting in or…’ Frankie peered down at you from the stairs, eyebrows raised.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘This thing is safe, right?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘What is it to me?’ You snorted. ‘Just, y’know, that I’m about to fly a few hundred thousand feet in the air and if it falls out of the sky I’ll die.’

‘I know what I’m doing.’ Frankie shut the door behind you as you climbed aboard, twisting the handle shut. ‘I’ve been flying for years.’

‘I’m not saying it’s you.’ You brushed past him, shoulders bumping as you did. ‘Captain fucking Sully couldn’t fly this thing.’

‘The guy from Monster’s Inc?’

‘No, the guy who landed the plane on the Hudson? They made a movie about it, with Tom Hanks-’

‘- you should sit down now.’ Frankie turned away from you. ‘We’re about to take off.’

Your mouth fell open in slight disbelief. What an asshole.

Santi called your name, signalling for you to sit with him in the cockpit. The seats on the plane hardly looked comfortable, and your brain was mentally working out if it was safer to sit over the wing in a crash, or by the tail. You’d definitely seen it in a documentary once, but you couldn’t remember exactly what they said. Perhaps the best option was to just be less dramatic.

Taking a seat between Frankie and Santi, you pulled your seatbelt on and shuffled awkwardly. This was fine. Absolutely fine. Frankie was a trained pilot (and a dickhead, but that didn’t take away from his flying skills) and you were going to be fine. Fiiiiine. Maybe if you said it once more, you’d believe yourself. You were going to be fine. Yeah, there we go.

A few deep breaths and you were certain. Or, at least you’d convinced yourself to be certain.

‘So.’ Your eyes momentarily flicked over to where Frankie was adjusting some controls. ‘What exactly am I doing here?’

‘A few months ago, the boys and I were involved in the shoot-out.’ Santi began. ‘Pretty standard for the type of operation we were on.’

‘Right. Standard office work.’ You muttered. ‘Do go on.’

‘We thought everyone who had witnessed it had been recorded.’ He continued. ‘And everyone who we spoke to verified that it was a justified shootout. No dirty work, no ulterior motive. All valid, from a legal perspective.’

You thinned your eyes. ‘I don’t think I like where this is going.’

‘We ID’d all the bodies at the time.’ He said. ‘Including a Ricky Martinez. Except now, a guy claiming to also be Ricky Martinez has come forward, claiming that his version of events is a little different. Like, different enough to incriminate us.’

‘He’s lying, right? You guys were the good ones?’ You urged. Santiago’s silence was anything but comforting. ‘Right?’

‘Morals are all a matter of perspective.’ He replied. ‘Our labs ID’d Martinez’ body twice but we need a third party opinion before we can completely dispel the guy pretending to be him.’

‘Guess that’s where I come in?’ You asked, leaning further back into the seat as the jet began to move.

‘Exactamente.’ Santi nodded.

That didn’t sound too bad. Between excavating the grave, running tests and returning the body, it would take a few days tops. You could manage that.

The jet began to pick up speed, making its ascent towards the runway. Frankie did look like he knew what he was doing -- heck, the man looked bored, even. He barely even had to look at the dash controls as it moved forward, hands moving freely and easily to manoeuvre the plane down the runway.

‘What are you staring at?’ Frankie glanced over at you.

‘N-nothing.’ You replied. ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on the road-’

‘- that’s a runway.’ He cut you off.

‘Whatever.’

You were thrown backwards in your chair from the momentum of the take off. The plane angled upwards as it went up in the air, tilting sideways as it balanced out. You felt your stomach drop as the ground disappeared from beneath you, the push of the engines pulling you up higher into the sky. There was a clunk, signalling that the landing gear had retracted.

Well, the plane had fulfilled its first purpose: taking off. That was a good sign.

‘So,’ Benny peered over at you. ‘What’s your callsign gonna be?’

‘My name, presumably.’ You quirked a brow at him.

‘We have Ironhead, Catfish and Pope.’ He continued. ‘But Will and I were talking, and we thought Barbie was gonna fit well.’

‘Oh, really?’ You sniffed. ‘And why might that be?’

‘Because you’re young, and pretty hot-’

‘- so your call sign is Benny, right?’ You cut him off. ‘Short for Benjamin? That’s really clever. Did you come up with it yourself?’

‘Maybe Eye Candy will be beter-’

Benny was cut off when you reached across, leaning over Santi to smack him in the chest with your balled up fist. All four of them jumped in surprise at your action - clearly, you weren’t somebody to be fucked with. You hadn’t worked your ass for years to get your degree to get discredited like that.

‘Make a comment like that again and I’ll drop kick your ass out of this plane.’ You jabbed your finger towards him.

Benny thinned his eyes at you. ‘Frankie wouldn’t let you do that. Right, Cat?’

‘You heard ‘em.’ Frankie’s eyes didn’t move from the clouds ahead.

To give credit where credit was due, Frankie was good at landing planes.

Specifically, he was good at landing planes in places where planes should not have been landed. Not that he’d had much of a choice when the engines gave in half way through the journey, a couple hundred miles over the thick Colombian jungle.

In short, you’d been right the entire time. The damn thing wasn’t safe. Of course, you weren’t going to say I told you so right then, since it felt like a little bit of a sensitive subject.

Now, the five of you were standing next to a pile of what-used-to-be-a-plane, defeat plastered over every one of your individual faces. You were lucky to all have made it out okay - just about. Santiago had taken a hit to the head, Benny had bitten his tongue pretty hard when you’d collided with the ground (fitting) and Frankie had split his head open. You and Will were the only ones who hadn’t sustained any injuries. He had proven to be much more tolerable than his brother.

‘Okay, we just gotta…’ you looked around, eyes taking in the debris around you. ‘We just gotta stay calm-’

‘- stay calm?’ Frankie cut you off. ‘You’re the reason the fucking thing went down! If you hadn’t taken all that extra weight-’

‘- do you ever shut up, Morales?’ You snapped. ‘And I’m no genius but I don’t think the engines catching fire was anything to do with me bringing an extra bag onto the plane!’

‘I’m the pilot.’ He reminded you. ‘I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Maybe it was the weight of your ego that made it go down.’ You chided.

‘Hey - Patrick, Spongebob!’ Will finally yelled. Both your heads snapped in his direction, eyes wide. ‘Can you keep it in your pants for two minutes so we can work out how to make it through the night?’

‘Right, sorry.’ You nodded.

You glanced around the crash site, brain calculating for a minute as you took in what little was left. The plan had landed on its belly and skidded for a few hundred metres; consequently, most of the luggage had come out on the way. That left you with the one remaining bag, the medkit you’d scared Santi into bringing and the strewn camping kit that had been ditched in the back of the fuselage.

Pulling your phone out your pocket, you sighed when you realised that you had no signal. What had you expected? Four bars in the middle of the jungle? Probably not realistic. You did, however, have a compass app. That was something. You thought for a moment, glancing between the app and the sun’s position in the sky. It was splintering through the trees, washing heat over you like a bucket of cold water. There was a small stream a few metres away, which was a source of water at least.

‘It’s just gone four, maybe five in the afternoon.’ You announced. ‘So we have about three hours till the sun starts to set. The water in the stream runs that way so if we follow it, we’ll find the source. People are more likely to set up civilization around a source of water.’

All four of them looked at you like kids who had lost their parents in Walmart. Were they really ex-military?

‘So, what?’ Benny frowned. ‘We...set up a new civilisation?’

‘Oh my days.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘I am spoon-feeding this to you! It means that there will be a town with people.’

‘That’s smart.’ Santi nodded.

‘But before we do that, we gotta sort this out. Will, d’you know how to check for concussion?’ You asked, to which he nodded. ‘Okay, you check Santi and I’ll clean up Frankie’s head. Then we gotta gather those camping supplies and head east. Best case scenario, we find a town before sundown. Worst case scenario, we camp out for the night.’

‘Who put you in charge?’ Frankie asked.

‘Me.’ You replied.

Taking the medkit from Santi’s hands, you quietly thanked him and led Frankie over to some rocks. He didn’t seem all that pleased when you forced him to sit on one - and he was even less pleased when you pulled his hat off. It revealed a tangle of dark curls, some of which you had to push back to get to the mark on his head. Some may have debated the importance of mentioning such a detail, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was.

You knelt down in front of him, pulling the supplies out of the little medical kit. There weren't many, but there was enough to give him something temporary till you got to a proper hospital. If you got a proper hospital.

‘It’s not too deep.’ You observed, running your thumb over the creases of his forehead. ‘Just a couple stitches at worst.’

‘Don’t you normally stitch up bodies?’ Frankie asked. His brown eyes were glued to the floor, following the outlines of the boot-prints that you’d left.

‘Yeah, it’s the same kinda principle though.’ You laughed slightly. ‘Despite your attitude, I’m not gonna give you Y-incision stitches.’

‘Thanks.’

‘At least not in a place people can see them.’

Frankie snorted, but it translated to a hiss of pain as you dabbed an alcohol wipe at his forehead. Despite everything, you had a slight admiration for him. He’d managed to land the plane safely as the situation allowed and despite a few minor injuries, things could have been much worse. You didn’t quite feel like vocalising that to him when you were still stranded in the middle of the jungle, but if you ever got out? You might get Santi to pass the message on.

‘D’ you think it’ll scar?’ Frankie quietly asked.

‘Maybe.’ You admitted. ‘Just take a deep breath.’

‘Where did you even learn to do this stuff?’ He asked, letting out another small grunt of discomfort. ‘The stitches and the compass shit.’

You shrugged. ‘I’ve been around the block a few times. You kinda learn to be prepared.’

‘Really? As a morgue worker?’

‘Not a morgue worker.’ You grumbled. ‘Then again, I am stabbing a needle through your skin so I suppose I’ll allow the discrepancy.’

‘What is it you do then?’

‘I’m a forensic archaeologist.’ You explained. ‘So it’s my job to retrospectively work out how people died, whether it be because their body was found a long time after they died or because they had to be exhumed from their original resting place.’

Gently pulling the needle back from Frankie’s forehead, you cut the thread and dabbed it again with an alcohol wipe. You brushed his hair back down and placed his hat back on his head, offering him a smile. For the first time since you’d met him, he returned the gesture.

You dusted off your knees and took a place on the rock beside Frankie, examining your handy work. Considering you’d been in a plane crash not quite an hour ago, it wasn’t too bad. At least if it did scar, it was in a place his hair covered up. And in your defense, scarring wasn’t usually something you had to worry about with your other...patients. They usually went back in the ground not long after you dealt with them.

‘You’ll wanna sit down for a minute.’ You replied. ‘D’you feel dizzy at all? Sick?’

‘I was just in a plane crash.’

‘Me too, funnily enough.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘I s’pose it’s the most interesting job I’ve worked in a while.’

‘Same here.’ Frankie said. ‘I normally work for a flight school, so this is...something else.’

‘It’ll make me grateful when I get back to the office.’ You agreed. ‘Because it has four walls, air conditioner and co-workers who don’t give me ridiculous nicknames.’

‘Right.’ He snorted. ‘Benny can be...Benny. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.’

‘Benny wasn’t the asshole.’ You quipped, nudging him with your elbow.

At least Frankie had proven now that he could talk to you without being insufferable. You couldn’t work out if you’d warmed to him or if he’d warmed to you, but doing somebody’s stitches was unarguably one hell of an icebreaker. He was just a little closed off; quiet and reserved, you figured. You didn’t know what him and the Delta guys had been through, but Santi had mentioned a few things in passing that pointed to a heavy past. That was something you could relate to - your job was no walk in the park either

‘It’s not...personal.’ Frankie glanced off into the distance.

Will had managed to salvage the remaining bag from the jet, meaning that Santiago could use it as a seat. Benny was sitting with them, talking amongst themselves. You would have to move soon, in order to find a suitable place to camp before sundown, but taking a minute to recover from the last hour was also important. You’d barely stopped to sit down since the plane had gone down, and now you had, the shock had hit you. Your suspicions about safety had actually been correct. Not that it mattered now, but at least you had a plan to get everyone back to civilization as soon as possible.

‘So you being an ice cold bitch isn’t to do with me? That’s a relief.’ You joked. Frankie smiled in response; his first genuine one since you’d met.

‘The witness that you were going to ID was from the last job we all worked together.’ He explained ‘It went bad. Really bad.’

‘From what Santi said, it sure did sound like it.’ You replied.

‘I hadn’t seen anything as bad as we did then since I was stationed out in the war zones.’ He continued. ‘So being back here, and being with the guys, has just put me on edge. I’m sorry if I was an asshole.’

‘You don’t have to say sorry.’ You shook your head. ‘I mean...actually, yeah, you were an asshole but I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘Forensic archeology is no walk in the park either.’ You replied. ‘It’s my job to work out how people have died. Most of my work is on crime scenes or in war zones so I’ve seen some...dark stuff.’

‘It sticks with you.’ Frankie quietly murmured.

‘Yeah, it does.’ You said. ‘I know you might not think it on the surface, because it’s the usual sort of job that leaves stuff weighing on your shoulders-’

‘- doesn’t matter.’ He cut you off. ‘Trauma is trauma. Regardless of how you got it or where it came from, it’s valid.’

You gave him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

---

Later that night -- and after a few hours of walking -- you and the guys had settled down into a makeshift campsite. It was just at the edge of a clearing, not too far from what looked to be a small town glinting in the distance. You did offer to keep going, but between the injuries the group had sustained, it was easier to stop for the night. You had enough of a combined skillset to find some fruit growing to snack on and to start a fire.

Santiago, Will and Benny had long passed out. It wasn’t until after they had done so that you realised there was absolutely no room left in the tent. It was only built for two people, let alone five. Where that left you in terms of sleeping arrangements, you didn’t know, but the chances of even getting to rest felt low. Your brain was on full overdrive, tired eyes darting constantly around the distance. How safe was this place? You’d managed to convince yourself that the plane was secure, and that had gone down like...well, like the fucking plane.

You were sitting on a log, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. It was just something to keep your brain occupied as you fought off the tiredness. The jet-lag from your flight to Colombia had hit in full force and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed -- the bed that wasn’t there.

‘So, are you keeping a look-out?’

You jumped at the sound of Frankie’s voice, twisting around to face him. ‘Something like that.’

‘I can take over if you want.’ He offered. ‘You should get some rest. You’ve saved our asses like three times today.’

‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fit into that tent.’ You replied. ‘I can hear them snoring from here.’

‘Is it worse than the alternative of me keeping you company?’ He softly smiled, taking a seat beside you. ‘I’ll promise not to be an asshole anymore.’

‘We spoke about this.’ You reminded him. ‘I get it. It’s okay.’

‘I still feel bad.’ He sighed. ‘Especially after you stitched me up and led us through the jungle. We woulda eaten something poisonous and died if you hadn’t stopped Benny going near those mushrooms.’

You chuckled. ‘Don’t feel bad, okay? You’ve had bad experiences before and it’s natural to be anxious.’

‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-’

‘- Frankie!’ You cut him off with a groan. ‘I’m about to be an asshole if you don’t stop saying sorry.’

‘So we’re good?’

‘We’re good.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘Santiago, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that he would come for our kneecaps if we left you alone in the dark.’ Frankie admitted. ‘I think he likes you.’

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘I think you have the wrong idea. Santi is only so protective of me because he’s one of my brother’s best friends, and I guess by extension, that kind of makes him my brother too. They go right back to high school, and then they did the academy together.’

‘That’s a long time.’ Frankie nodded. ‘So you and Santi, that’s...nothing, right?’

‘Absolutely not.’ You snorted derivatively. ‘And if it was, my brother would probably end him.’

‘So,’ He took a stick from the floor, joining in with random doodles you were carving into the ground. ‘Be honest: if these stitches scar, d’you think I’ll look rugged and handsome?’

You peered over at him, eyes creasing as your smile grew wider. ‘Sure. Why not?’

‘Ouch.’ He dramatically grabbed his heart, shaking his head. ‘The correct answer was no Frankie, you already look rugged and handsome.’

‘Okay, it would make you look more rugged and handsome.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ He grinned triumphantly. ‘When was the last time you stitched up a living, breathing human?’

‘College, I think.’ You replied. ‘My roommate got into a fight and didn’t have insurance, so I did some makeshift stitches with a cheap sewing kit we found at a 24/7 corner shop.’

‘We’ve all done it.’ He laughed. ‘I’m glad the stitches you gave me were actual, professional ones...right?’

‘Obviously!’ You exclaimed. ‘You’ll probably want to get them redone when we get back to...y’know, civilisation.’

‘Naturally.’ He nodded. ‘I appreciate you stitching me up. The others would not have been able to do that if it had been just us.’

You shrugged. ‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘What if - and feel free to blatantly reject me for my earlier actions - I took you out for a drink when we got back? Y’know, if we ever get back to civilisation.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ You smiled.

Normally, Frankie wouldn’t have been that bold -- and you would have absolutely rejected someone who had made such a terrible first impression. But, said impression had changed. He’d been an asshole but you could see why; you could reason with it, even. God knew that you also had a tendency to become withdrawn and irritable when you were retracting back to the darker corners of your mind. Bad days on the job were hard to shake. They stuck with you for a long time.

The conversation continued, though you couldn’t recall exactly what it was about. Nothing and everything. Growing up and going to college - or for Frankie, the military. You compared stories of Santiago; Frankie’s were better, but yours were pretty good. He told you about how he’d got his piloting license back, and you in return offered a tale of the time that your brother had gotten a DUI.

Between the warmth of Frankie beside you and the crackling fire in front of you, it became harder and harder to fight off your exhaustion. You would have been tired enough if you were from this timezone, but your body clock was hours out of whack. With your eyelids getting heavier and the dark sky above you, it wasn’t long before you’d flopped into the pilot’s side with defeat.

‘’M sorry.’ You murmured.

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.’ Frankie replied. He moved his arm around your shoulders to support your weight from falling off the log - also to give a sign that he was more than okay with it.

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. Now that his cold facade had slipped away, you could admire him a little bit more. Warm chocolate eyes, a strong jawline, and a face that just felt kind, even despite initial impressions. The warm glow of the fire illuminated his face with a soft hue, making the lighter tones of his eyes a little more visible.

You were both still lingering from the adrenaline of the plane crash, hearts pounding in your chests and brains wrestling with the idea that you’d both made it out with minor injuries. Was that what had made you bold? The sudden reminder of your mortality? Because you never would have kissed him if it had been a normal night.

He met you halfway, lips gently capturing yours in a soft kiss. They were a little chapped from the humidity of the jungle air, but intoxicating and enchanting all the same. He tasted very, very faintly of tobacco and a little bit of mint -- had the bastard had chewing gum this whole time? Not that it was relevant. Not that anything else in the world was relevant. Not when Frankie Morales was kissing you.

Neither of you said anything after; he simply pulled you into his chest, resting his head on top of yours. Between the mental exhaustion and emotional ping-pong game that you were partaking in, you wanted to sleep.

And sleep, you did; tangled together on the dirt of the jungle floor, not a worry in the world.

---

Time passed.

It passed quickly and slowly all at once.

Once you’d found a little town and got on a coach to Medellin, you did what you came to do: identified the body, cleared their names and closed the case. Your duties at your actual job called you back home and less than a day later, you were on a plane home.

After that, everything was a blur. You tried to keep in contact with everyone, but life was demanding as ever. Thanks to a promotion at work, you were being kept busy 24/7. Santiago finally retired from active duty and moved back to your hometown, near to his parents and to the guys. Even with the group chat he’d made - affectionately titled Plane Pals - it was hard to constantly keep up with everyone.

You and Frankie had texted for a while, but it sort of faded out. Whenever you were able to make it back home to see him and everyone else, he was busy. You’d both tried to make plans a few times but they’d never come to fruition. You still texted each other happy birthday every year, but that was it. Like that night in the jungle, he quickly became a thing of the past. A distant memory that sometimes felt like a dream.

It made a good dinner table story, especially for first dates. You told it on many actually, actually -- only one ever went well. So well, in fact, that you’d ended up in a four-year-relationship. A marine biologist called Simon; not boring, but not necessarily exciting either. He was nice...enough. Nice enough that you didn’t find a reason to leave.

Looking back, you probably had a million reasons to leave. He was an asshole, for one. The last time he’d treated you right had been your first anniversary - and for some reason, you’d stuck around to celebrate your second and third and fourth. Everyone around you was settling down, and you felt that pressure too.

Even Santiago fucking Garcia, the biggest flirt and bachelor you knew, was getting married. You’d RSVP’d a plus one - Simon, obviously - but the week before you were due to fly home for the wedding, things had finally reached a bitter end. You weren’t sad about him; more sad that you’d wasted four years of your life on the Walmart equivalent to Ned Flanders.

On the brightside, your brother’s respective relationship had also gone through a shitty demise, meaning you could move your seats at the reception next to one another. Like Santiago, he had also retired from the military and was living his best life - even though it had taken six months for him to start speaking to his friend again. He hadn’t taken well to the idea of Santiago taking you on a job that left you in the middle of the jungle.

‘People are gonna ask where Simon is, aren’t they?’ You muttered.

‘Cheer up.’ Your brother nudged you. ‘I know what’ll help - let’s make a bet.’

‘What?’ You groaned.

You were standing outside the church, waiting to be called inside. You’d waved at Benny and Will as they came in. The latter had kids of his own now, but Benny was focusing on his boxing career. He hadn’t called you Barbie again though, so that was something.

‘I bet you twenty bucks that Santiago is divorced by the end of the year.’ Your brother grinned.

‘No! That’s horrible.’ You slapped his arm.

‘Whatever. That’s $20 you’re missing out on.’

‘I hate that we’re related.’

‘Me too.’

‘Shut up!’

‘You said it first!’

The two of you were cut off by someone clearing their throats.

You almost did a double take when you saw Frankie Morales stood in front of you. He didn’t look that different to his six-year-old Whatsapp profile picture; he wasn’t wearing his hat, instead wearing his hair pushed back, and rather than his old tac vest, he had a suit and tie on. You had a sort of vision of him in your head from that night, but it didn’t do him justice. He was even better in person.

‘Catfish!’ Your brother jeered. ‘Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!’

‘Says you!’ Frankie gave him a slap on the back. His eyes then fell to you, and his demeanour changed a little. ‘Hey.’

‘Frankie fucking Morales.’ You murmured. ‘How’re you?’

‘Thriving.’ He replied. ‘You?’

‘Also thriving.’ You smiled.

‘I was sorry to hear about the divorce, man.’ Your brother, as clueless as ever, didn’t sense the sudden onset of tension.

‘Divorce?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘Is that really something you should bring up-’

‘- you brought up your break up at dinner last week-’

‘- only because you brought up yours first-’

‘- guys!’ Frankie cut you off. ‘It’s fine, really. I appreciate you looking out for me but it was a while ago now. Besides, I’ve got Leya. She takes up all my time.’

‘Leya?’ your eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that your girl-’

You were interrupted by a bell ringing, signalling that it was time for the guests to enter the church. Did the universe hate you? What kind of fucking dreadful timing was that?

‘I’ll see you guys at the reception, right?’ Frankie asked.

‘Sure thing, dude.’ Your brother waved him off.

The pilot turned on his heel, giving you a smile as he headed for the church. He was the best man after all, and his presence probably was needed.

‘You asshole!’ You have his shoulder another whack. ‘I was talking to him!’

‘Jesus, calm down! And why do you hit so hard?’ He huffed. ‘What’s so important?’

‘Who’s Leya?’

‘I dunno! Do I look like Gossip Girl?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re mean.’ He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you towards the church entrance. ‘And mum made me promise to make sure you wouldn’t play Doodle Jump during the vows.’

‘That was one time!’ You snapped.

Thankfully, the actual ceremony passed quicker than you thought. Santiago’s new wife was beautiful -- you hadn’t met Yovanna before, but both her and Santi had greeted you with a bright smile as you entered the reception. It was in a large hotel room, decorated with strings of fairy lights and a large dance floor. A lot of thought had clearly got into it.

It made you a little sad to think about. How many weddings had you been to in the last five years? How many times had people looked at you and your former boyfriend and said you’ll be next. You weren’t even sad about him. If anything, you were mad that you’d let yourself think about marrying him. You could do better. You were going to do better.

‘Is that girl over there eying me up?’ Your brother’s voice pulled you back to reality. ‘I swear she’s been giving me heart eyes since they brought dessert out.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one in the cute dress! Brown hair, dark eyes-’

‘- that’s Santi’s cousin.’ You rolled your eyes.

‘And?’

‘Santi’s cousin who is a lesbian?’ You tried to suppress a laugh. ‘Who has been with her wife for 11 years and has three children?’

He groaned. ‘Why must you find such joy in my pain?’

‘It’s what siblings are for.’ You grinned. ‘I’m gonna get a drink. D’you want anything?’

He only let out another groan in response - you took that as a no, simply giving him a pat on the head as you stood up.

You’d tried to ask around with a few mutual friends if they knew who Leya was -- either they hadn’t seen Frankie in a while, or they pushed to know why you were asking. You couldn’t exactly play that one as suave. Nobody took a casual interest in the personal life of somebody they barely knew -- even though you did know Frankie. Quite well, actually. He’d practically recounted his entire life story to you that night. Told you things that not even Santi knew.

‘What can I get for you?’ The bartender asked.

‘Uhhh…’ you glanced up at the menu. ‘Is it an open bar?’

‘If I had enough money for every time someone asked me that tonight, I’d be able to pay for all the drinks.’ She shot back. ‘So, no.’

‘Jeez.’ You muttered. ‘How much for a double rum?’

‘Fifteen bucks.’

‘Fifteen?!’ You spluttered. ‘How much is tap water?’

‘Y’know, I still owe you a drink.’

Like earlier, Frankie had suddenly appeared unannounced. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw him leaning against the bar beside you, a goofy smile plastered across his face and his undone tie wrapped around his left hand. Your eyes flickered up to his forehead, examining it for a minute.

‘So the stitches didn’t scar?’ You asked.

He pulled back his hair, shaking his head. ‘Nope.’

‘You lucky duck.’ You quipped. ‘So. About that drink?’

‘This shit is insanely overpriced.’ Frankie said. ‘I can steal us a bottle of wine if you’re willing to hide and drink it?

You glanced over at your brother, who was now crying to one of Santiago’s great aunts, piling cake into his mouth.

‘Yeah. I’m down for that.’

Five minutes later, you and Frankie were out in the gardens of the hotel. It had been raining all day, but there was an undercover patio not too far from the main reception; the walls were made out of white wood, with red roses trailing up the side. The fairly lights tangled beside them illuminated the place in a gentle glow, blue evening sky providing a beautiful contrast. Even though the showers had stopped, you could still smell the rain in the fresh evening air.

‘Wine?’ Frankie led you to a seat by the edge of the patio. ‘I stole it from the head table so it's the expensive shit.’

He tore the cork off, handing you the bottle. Neither of you had brought glasses, but you didn’t mind drinking from the same bottle. You’d kissed already - what was the point in formalities?

‘I hate it to break it to you.’ You paused to wipe your mouth, recovering from the bitter taste. ‘But that’s champagne.’

‘Still alcohol, right?’ He took it from your hands, taking a swig. ‘And it’s free!’

‘You’re right.’ You chuckled. ‘So...I believe we have four years worth of catching up to do.’

‘D’you wanna go first?’ Frankie offered. ‘I heard you got a promotion.’

‘I did, yeah.’ You grinned. ‘It’s a thousand times more work but I get more control over what jobs I take, so that’s good.’

‘Anyone special in your life?’ He asked.

‘Cut the shit, Frankie.’ You groaned. ‘I know that Santi updates you on every second of my life as it happens.’

‘You got me there. He mentioned a...Steven?’

‘A Simon.’ You corrected. ‘But Dickhead or Asshole works just as well.’

‘Damn, I’m sorry.’ Frankie gave your leg a light squeeze. ‘What happened?’

‘He didn’t deserve me and I stayed with him too long.’ You shrugged. ‘I didn’t think I had a reason to leave.’

‘Not having a reason to leave isn’t a reason to stay.’ He murmured.

You didn’t know whether to bring up the D-Word. D-i-v-o-r-c-e. He hadn’t seemed that phase when your sibling had so eloquently and gently brought it up earlier, but you knew Frankie was good at putting on a front. It was why you’d clashed when you first met.

‘Am I allowed to ask?’ You quietly said.

‘It’s nothing bad.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean it is bad, terrible actually, but it was two years ago now. We only got married because she got pregnant and then left the minute our daughter was born.’

‘Leya.’ You didn’t mean to say the name out loud, but it made sense now. ‘Leya is your daughter.’

‘Yeah.’ Frankie warmly smiled. ‘I hate what happened but I’d do it all over again ten times if it meant having her in my life.’

He spent the next few minutes telling you about her. She was named Leya after a certain space princess, though Frankie had changed the spelling to make it less obvious (to which you had argued it was still quite obvious, but a cool name nonetheless). She was currently three years old, often got confused between Spanish and English words, and enjoyed Power Rangers. All in all, she sounded like a great kid. Above all, it was obvious how much she meant to Frankie. His whole face lit up when he spoke about her. Her mum was entirely out the picture, meaning he was doing the whole thing by himself.

‘She sounds amazing.’ You beamed, peering down at the picture on his phone. ‘She looks so much like you.’

‘Thank God.’ Frankie murmured. ‘I dunno if it being a dad has made me more introspective, but I think about that night a lot.’

‘Me too.’ You replied. ‘Not the thing about being a dad. The other part.’

He laughed. ‘I got that.’

‘What do you think about?’

‘You, mostly.’ He admitted. ‘The fact I was an asshole. The fact you basically saved us all. The fact I never got to take you out for that drink.’

You took a swig of champagne, poking his arm. ‘We’re doing it now!’

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I just...I know it was only one night but we might not have been around to tell the story if you hadn't been there.’

‘You were the one who landed the plane safely.’

‘Which wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t do all the stuff after.’ He reminded you. ‘The thing I think about most, though, is that kiss.’

You froze slightly, head slowly turning to look at him. He was peering down at you now, brown eyes intently gazing at you, not unlike they had the first time you’d been in this position. Now, you weren’t both beyond exhausted, or stuck in the middle of the jungle. You were safe and sound, right here with one another.

‘It was a pretty good kiss.’ You edged slightly closer towards him.

‘A very good kiss.’

‘Maybe we should do it-’

Frankie cut you off, meeting your demand before you could even finish it. He was just as you remembered; chapped-but-soft lips with a hint of mint. No tobacco this time. He gently placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you further up towards him. It was like you were both reliving the memory of that night in a dream - something you’d done many times. Your memory of it had faded over time but this? This was vivid and giddy and entirely consuming all at once.

‘You know,’ Frankie pulled back for a moment, keeping his hand on the back of your neck and forehead pressed to yours. ‘I asked Santi about you a few years ago, pretty much the minute I realised I was ready to move on from...her.’

‘You did?’ You murmured.

‘That’s when he said you’d been seeing Simon for a few weeks.’ He admitted. ‘I was gutted. Kept wishing I’d got there first.’

‘I wish you had got to me first.’ You lightly chuckled. ‘It would have saved me a lot of pain.’

‘If I were to ask out now, what would you say?’

‘Fuck yes, obviously.’

‘Good.’ He pressed a brief peck to your lips. ‘I admire the enthusiasm.’

That night - well, actually it had probably been the night in Colombia, depending on who you asked - marked the start of a fresh start for you both. What had initially started out as an attempt to seek solace in one another during a difficult time had led you to something more: something whole, something fulfilling.

If someone had told you the first time you’d met Frankie Morales that the unfriendly pilot was going to become the best thing that ever happened to you, you probably would have slapped them. Or laughed, or cried, or all three. That night you met, you thought the emotions you were feeling were from the plane crash -- adrenaline and warmth and panic.

As it would turn out, it was simply the feeling of knowing -- knowing that Frankie Morales was it.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales angst #triple frontier imagines #pedro pascal character headcanons

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youranxiousnerd · 3 years

Text

Second Chances Thoughts

bc what

spoilers below

i have...thoughts

ah no chaotic intro, f in the chat

it’s still a nice intro, tho

IM SORRY ARE THEY NOT SHOWING THE TRANSFORMATION?!?!

WHAT

THIS IS A HATE CRIME /j

i used the thingy

no bows either?!?!

this is called high school musical: the musical: the series not high school musical: the backstage drama: the series

wow they got changed fast

“Passable!”

I’ll be the judge of that oh wait i cant bc they didnt show us

YES QUEEN ASHLYN GETTING THE LOVE SHE DESERVES

ashlyn is such a queen

the perfect belle, stunning

“A couple letters, actually” it’s a sign (literally)

flower touch

AWWW REDLYN

STOP THEY’RE ADORABLE

they love each other so much

east high kids be snooping

not me thinking about carlos’ hand on seb’s back we were robbed im taking what i can get

“You were the perfect Belle tonight. I was really proud”

“Evil genius”

they’re so happy

AWWW A REDLYN KISS WHOOP WHOOP

kourt and howie are so awkward

“drumroll?”

howie and seb would get along

weird little playoff, maybe he is lying?

they’re cute, tho

sad that they didn’t really get any build-up

“happy now?” “yes”

“If it’s with you, always” MY HEART

just like a fanfic

kourtney just invited north highs beast to east highs cast party

OH MY GOD MAZZARA IS ACTUALLY GETTING A STORY ABOUT HIM

i was not expecting that okay

ej and mazzara are the best

gina is so happy too bad it wont last

gina is an actress

gahhhh portwell drama

oh god rini let the drama begin

that was very calm, did someone possess nini and ricky?

i really like them as best friends. i was a hardcore rini shipper last season but with all their constant conflict i realized how much fun they are as friends

“we are literally on the same page”

“just for a moment” I LOST MY SHIT

miss jenn no

oooo seblos please be good

Seb calling Miss. Jenn out on her bullshit since idk when

“That’s a hard never mind now” okay wow

Miss. Jenn is Carlos’ godmother

This is theatre, not football

CRYING GINA

gini

GINA SUPPORT DAY IS A THING PEOPLE!!!!!

oh wow a plot line actually being addressed

season 1 callback im not ready

gina and nini people!!!

very sweet scene

ahha jamie callback we all knew it

i would really like to see miss jenns batb audition notes

“I’m in a great place, mentally” if you were you wouldn’t be saying that

OMFG IS SHE NOT GOING TO APOLOGIZE!?!?!

like that was a big deal, a big effing deal and then nothing?

you told a kid to jump off something high and you can’t even say “sorry”?!?!

back to the miss jenn love triangle

“I think I’m happy, or gettin’ there”

ricky you don’t have to be there yet it’s okay

that line hit

SEASON 1 OUTFITS

CORE 4 SONG

killer harmonies

sofia giving us that alto rep!!

portwell duet! audition outfits

very good, very very good. this song kinda screams autotune but it still sounds very good.

last song of the season NOOO but very fitting

Is it just me or does “Second Chance” look like a music video they show in Justice (the teen store) in 2014?

cast bonding yay!

PAUSE THE ONLY SEBLOS MOMENT WE GOT THIS EPISODE WAS A WRIST HOLD?!?!!

DISNEY WTF

LIKE EVERY COUPLE GOT THEIR MOMENT AND ALL THEY GET IS A WRIST HOLD

BFBLBFIWGFSDMBF

shit why does my favorite ship have to be the gay one on a disney show?

east high booing the lily and french boi has me on the floor

“Big Red, you were also in it” BEST LINE OF THE FINALE OMFG

i missed antoine

sorry carlos has glitter on his face

seb’s smile and wave at north high why am i laughing?

off topic but i have unintentionally started doing the seb wave (you know the one) (with the fingers) in real life.

also gay chair sit

e.j is also doing the gay chair sit

lily what

you have had like one conversation

she says she likes his face but not his personality?

im calling bullcrap

pause didn’t lily steal the harness? are we just going to forget about that

probably, the writers did forgot to develop seblos

Let Ricky be single challenge

ANTOINE MY LOVE

REDLYN I LOVE YOU

SHUSH EJ’S SPEECH TIME TO SOB

ummmm

so this season has been for nothing?

all the shit they went through (the self-doubt, relationship problems, the injuries, the death threats) is for nothing?!?

since when does Miss. Jenn not care anymore about the Menkies?!?!

I actually get the kids side of this, but not Miss. Jenn’s.

I was surprised they took this route with the Menkies, didn’t even cross my mind

“It was five”

Big Red x medicine

bet your ass ashlyn would have gotten a nomination best actress

“We got a pizza oven” THE EAST HIGH KIDS ARE COMMITTING ARSON

is mazzara staying for miss jenn? they could do long distance but it doesnt have the best rep in this show

gini

ashlyn is the captain of the portwell ship and nini is her right hand man (or whatever second best is called in sailing)

NINI MAKIN THE DEALS

RICKY WHY ARE YOU CALLING HER

WHYYYYYY

“Will you be my first kiss” smiles

OH MY GOD

WAIT NOTHING

WHAT

OMFG THEY CUT IT LMAO

“this summer is about to get hot” SUMMER SEASON 3?!?!

ANTOINE

OMFG HE BETTER COME BACK

I LOVE ABF

WAIT THATS IT

FWBEGLEWG

THATS IT

hey they ended with andrew barth feldman what more can you ask for?

Thats...it?

Oh wait some cast stuff...brb ima cry. The ending has some very series finale energy...I’m scared. Natalie wouldn’t have done the “buckle up wildcats” if there wasn’t a season 3, right? But the bloopers at the end...

The cast ending was great. “You are the Music in Me” was so heartfelt and I’m a sucker for bloopers.

Wait so no Lily home? It was probably a cut scene.

If we got Lily home, can we get an album with the cast singing all the BATB songs?

I have so many mixed feelings about this episode. Here is the thing, if you love the core 4 then this was your episode. If you’re like me and prefer the side leads then this was probably a little disappointing since we barely saw them. This episode felt rushed and a little messy, but there were some great moments. Season 2′s writing has felt a little weird. This season lacked the chaotic theater kid energy season 1 had. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with the show. If/when we get a season 3 I really hope the writers find that energy again.

Let’s all give a round of applause for the cast and crew who filmed majority of the season during a global pandemic. That could not have been easy. They gave us a pretty good season under crazy conditions. They definitely had to change some things to fit the current climate. Overall, hats off the the cast and crew because you guys killed it.

I’m really going to miss this show, hopefully it gets renewed. It has become a comfort show these past several weeks. My sanity says “no, don’t go” but my sleep schedule says “leave.”

To second chances!!

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

Text

HSMTMTS 2x10: New and a bit alarming... ok, very alarming

I don't even know at this point if I'm more nervous or excited for this episode. I've done my waiting and, well, whatever lies ahead, good or bad, or a little bit of both, I just can't wait anymore, even though I haven't been so scared to press play since... well, since last week. Guess I should just go for it, then:

Ooh, shady Seb doing the recap! We love to see it. Like, seriously, I'm anxious about the Seblos fight, but shady Seb is kind of my new favourite Seb.

I just... Ashlyn's acting is top tier. Emotional connection to the material? Superb! Chemistry with her co-lead... well, he'd have to be co-leading for any chemistry to be possible. I love Ricky, and I feel for him with all he's been through, but he's just not lead material right now. And it shows. Especially next to Ashlyn, who is killing it!

Miss Jenn is on the verge of a bloody mental breakdown and I just... wish I could do something to make things better. She reminds me of my mum when a deadline approaches for her to submit an article, and I just feel for her right now. Gosh, I'm feeling for everybody today. My empathy seems to be at its peak and I might just burst from all these emotions this episode is making me feel even before the 5-minute mark.

Ok, but Miss Jenn being stressed means Carlos is stressed for two, which means... this is a really bad time for him and Seb to have personal problems. My heart just can't handle it.

Wow... I never thought I'd see the day! The two leads are actually talking to each other! This is a mid-July miracle!

Why does everyone keep pretending their HSM was good? It was a flaming hot mess! A child could see that.

Miss Jenn needs a lot of work on her 'gracious face'. I, like Carlos, have quite some notes. Only mine aren't exactly, how do you say... verbally formulated quite yet.

Did Carlos just refer to Miss Jenn as 'mother'? Because yes.

I've been in a couple of local theatre productions in my day, but none of them had actual physical sets — we relied on the audience's imagination quite a lot — so I wouldn't know what a good set is made of... but even I can tell that plywood and Elmer's glue = not good.

Kourtney is a multi-tasking icon and we love her. I feel like I don't say this enough, but she deserves all the love.

Ooh, shady Seb is... well, shady! 'Quit school and get a job at the pizza shop?' — I mean, you don't see Reddy or Kourtney (or Howie, for that matter) quitting school in order to work at the Slices! Those kids juggle it all and, as someone who's never had to balance school and a job all at once, they have my deepest admiration.

Still, I think they should have thought about 'inventing' something re: transformation earlier than this point. The personal drama has taken up too much of their time.

Why does everyone keep inviting people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, it's not like I've ever heard her complain, but the girl needs some rest! And her house is not a public space.

Oh, so they're making this into a contest? I mean, I have never been a fan of competition, but to each their own. And Redlyn are hosting! This is going to be so beautiful! (You know, unless the boys try to sleep — see my post from yesterday about Reddy's background noise machine)

'I'm not worried. But North High should be!' Ooh, I love this look on Ashlyn! See, there's a lead to take notes from! And Ricky should be the first to do so. Take notes about what a lead acts like, I mean.

Oooooh, Big Red claps back! We love to see it. Although, you know, it stems from the fact that he's nervous about coming up with a solution to the transformation problem. 'I get bossy around the power tools' — Yes, sweetie, and I love that look on you. Maybe you should be around power tools more often, if that helps.

Ughhh, look what the cat brought in! Lily (I wish I knew her last name so I could refer to her by it exclusively, but we'll have to make do). I hate that girl. She reminds me quite exactly of the girl who bullied me in seventh grade to the point where I wished I'd die before having to deal with her at school again. She and Lily both bring out my aggressive side, and I hate that about them.

Ricky — 'so good at being a leading man'? I don't know what Lily is playing at here, but Ricky has not shown himself to be a very good leading man this season. He has the potential to be, but he has not fulfilled it by this point. Sure, he supports his friends and they support him, but that's basic decency. Not yet good leadership. No hate on Ricky, just the truth.

'I vaguely remember him' — please tell me this is setup for Ricky leading Lily on and then slamming the door in her face with the truth. The way I see it, he's been given a chance here. A chance to be the supportive, protective best friend Big Red deserves. I just... have a lot of ideas about this and I don't want it to end badly instead.

'I'm just not well-liked here, and I don't know what to do' — well, of course you aren't well-liked, you little— (ok, ok, calm down, breathe, 10, 9, 8...) whatever. I mean, she hasn't even considered basic decency, as it seems. Must be a new concept to her.

'Don't start with me, Carlos!' Wow. As much as I hate it that my two faves' only interaction in so long is so hostile, I kind of like this side of Big Red. I wonder what other sides of himself he's been hiding.

Listen, I don't like Seb being patronised and babied, but... 'Chip, this is your mother speaking: go call your mother!' made me laugh so hard. They're leaning into the on-stage family dynamic and I live for it.

EJ's idea of using old skateboards for the spinning contraption is... a brilliant callback to the fact that Ricky and Big Red were first characterised as skateboarders... you know, before diving headfirst into the theatre thing. And it feels like it might actually work.

Miss Jenn's excitement at seeing Mr Mazzara ('Benjamin!!!') is perhaps only topped by the fact that he was halfway home, got a text from her and instantly went back to the school. I mean, these two have something that's really big.

Miss Jenn referring to the kids as 'my children', combined with Carlos calling her 'mother' earlier just warms my heart so much! Those guys really are family. I live for it.

Ok, but... as clear as it is that the Wildcats are very far behind NH in terms of budget, rehearsal time and who knows what else, I hate seeing Miss Jenn resigned to them losing. I want to see her have faith in them, talk about how they will win, and, in her own words, 'trust the process'. I mean, I guess it's good that, as a teacher, she wants to prepare her kids for a possible defeat (and I mean really possible if they don't step up their game immediately, especially some of them * cough* Ricky *cough *), but a team that goes out to the field expecting to lose has a very minimal chance of winning.

Despite everything I've been saying again and again about Nini lately, the fact that she just delivered a very different 'No, Seb' has just redeemed her. See, this one wasn't dismissive or patronising — this was like, 'no, Seb, don't put yourself down' and I love that spin on the catchphrase I'd grown to hate. See, many things can be redeemed. And some simply cannot. * cough* Devil's spawn Lily *cough *. Also, Seb being self-conscious about the fact that Carlos 'doesn't have many options' at East Hight is the perfect setup for In a Heartbeat — meaning they will either have a chance to talk about their issue, or they have a telepathic connection, in which case, what kind of soulmate stuff is that?

'You're my sister; he's my cousin' — yeah, Ash, putting it like that makes it sound a lot weirder than it should, but I do get what you're trying to say. This is not a drill! Ashlyn is a Portwell shipper (heck, maybe even the captain of that ship) — but I feel like we already knew that.

'Why'd I never hear about this?' — and there it goes. Within the same scene, Nini was redeemed and then made aggravating again. What does she care if Gina thought Ricky sent her chocolates? He didn't. Because he and Gina can't be anything but very good friends. And I feel like good friends is what Gina needs. Maybe that's why I wanted EJ to be that for her initially (or it was because I'm aroace and don't tend to notice romantic attraction between fictional characters — or real people for that matter — unless it's explicitly stated to be there). But I've been on board of the majestic S.S. Portwell for a few weeks now and it's finally about to set sail.

Yeah, Nini, get a root beer, calm the heck down and get over it!

'Your other clockwise!' — Why does this even need to be said? How many 'clockwise's are there? I absolutely understand why Big Red gets the way he gets around power tools. I'd be on edge too, if the people I was trying to work with didn't know what way clockwise is. Still, I feel like by the time I'm 30, nobody younger than me would have a reason to know what way clockwise is, and I don't know if I feel bad or neutral about it.

Oh, so there's no telepathy involved in Seblos' problem resolution — it's been Redlyn's good communication all along. I might have known.

Ooh, Portwell is being discussed on both sides! PORTWELL NATION HOW WE FEELING

Nini? Why is everything about Nini? There's no way everything is about Nini. In all seriousness, though, EJ's worries about letting the next girl go seem valid in regards to Gina, given that she explicitly stated (though not within earshot of EJ or anyone who could have tipped him off) that she needs someone who will show up and stay. But they'll figure it out. They'll find a way. I know it. They will, or I will riot, and I know I won't be alone in that.

Ooh, Howie is giving Kourtney the original blueprints! Looks like Reddy isn't the only one who has a spy on the inside.

Ahhh, Ricky! Not 'Let You Go' again. I haven't cried to it in three days and I was not ready to break that streak. But... wait, this is where Carlos approaches Ricky to ask him for help with writing a song for Seb, isn't it? I am definitely ready for this.

Oh, is it... is it Ricky who suggests Carlos write a song for Seb? Now that is what a good leading man looks like.

'I'm adjusting to being called bro' — me too, Carlito, me too. But... this scene must have been so emotional for Josh, given that he hadn't come out yet. I remember him crying during The Climb and... all I'm saying is I want Ricky to come out at some point, too.

Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh... they were just talking about love languages and that's when Carlos shows up? Cinematic. Wait, there's Portwell too? This is what dreams are made of.

My oh my oh my! Risotto! For real this time. I might have just teared up. (Full disclosure: I did.) I've only had Portwell for about three weeks, but if anything happens to them, I will... you know how the meme goes. [side note: Wait, when I said 'for real this time', I was not expecting EJ would say it, much less word for word. Am I... writing this show now? It's usually my dad who predicts people's lines in TV shows]

'Not that I know of'... excuse me while I hyperventilate! These two are literal soulmates. They might share a brain, too, for all that I know. Portwell nation you ok guys?

I love that Ricky helped Carlos out with this song and is supporting him through it, but... I just might have preferred for him not to be there. I kind of need Seblos to have this moment to themselves. But, you know, with the way they feel about each other it might as well be like they're alone in the universe, let alone the room.

Ok, but Frankie's voice... brings out feelings in me that I didn't know I was capable of. Make of that what you will. Also, I'm not sobbing my eyes out, you are.

Ahhh Reddy my sunshine my sweet boy I love you but why did you have to cut Seblos' moment short? They were going to kiss, I know it. Oh well, they probably will, later on. Off-screen probably, but who cares? Not everything is for us to see. At least Carlos and Ricky had a moment there... Carlos calling Ricky 'bro' made me more emotional than I expected. It's like Miss Jenn says in s1: 'They're best bros, and that's a sacred thing... for reasons I will never understand'.

Ricky's acting sounds like a cat about to spit up a hairball, and it's so funny... in a scene that is supposed to be arguably the most dramatic of the entire play, that is not a good thing.

Oh my, oh my... you did not! You did not just end the episode with Ricky taking a fall from who knows how high. I was not ready. This episode was entirely too much for me. I will need 10 to 15 business days to recover from this, and we all know there aren't that many. But in the meantime you'll find me obsessively listening to In a Heartbeat for hours on end. Seriously, this episode is too much.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #ricky bowen #nini salazar-roberts #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew-smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #jnk #seblos #portwell #redlyn #jenzara

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buckys-old-habits · 3 years

Text

Line Without A Hook (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (platonic)

Summary: Spencer is a broken man and sometimes he needs help facing his demons and doubts. Is it all really worth it?

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Hurt / Comfort

Inspiration: Line Without A Hook by Ricky Montgomery

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There never can be a man so lost as one who is lost in the vast and intricate corridors of his own lonely mind, where none may reach and none may save.”

― Isaac Asimov, Pebble in the Sky

Working for the FBI is a challenge, office hours are horrible and the world never sleeps in the sense of the bad it can produce.

The BAU is a special department that is necessary, saving people, catching bad guys, and being all and all nearly invisible in the back. Delving deep into the twisted and poisoned thoughts of people, formed by death, trauma, and snapped minds. Getting to know the horrible truth of what a broken childhood or a rejected mind can make people push to do.

Day in and day out, watching, analyzing, staring death and danger in the face, pureness getting swallowed by the darkness of the world. Emotions and people’s lives getting lost and twisted. Seeing the aftermath of a person tortured, mutilated, traumatized, killed in the worst sense. Dead inside but staying alive for the outside world.

Happy endings get swallowed by the next bad case, paperwork making you all relieve the horror you will carry into your sleep and dreams. Making you lock your door twice as secure as normally, work sneaking itself into your daily life.

This work does things to all the members of the BAU, things that they try to hide and don’t want to remember any time soon.

Kidnappings, drug uses, bullet wounds, mental and physical torture, loss through unsubs, the nagging feeling of doing the right thing and still not saving everyone, the downfall of your psyche because you were too slow and finally the reality that the bad in the world won’t just go away.

In the years you were a part of the BAU you saw and experienced a lot of loss and trauma, on yourself or your trusted friends. You saw people come and go, happy at the start and broken in the end, smiles replaced by frowns.

Gideon, Elle, Emily, Strauss, Alex, Kate, Aaron, Derek, and many more left because the job got in the way and too much. Trauma and resignment making them change their view on life and considering another way.

You understand them and wish them all the best in the world, a life away from all the terrors that plague the daily world.

But one person isn’t leaving, is still suffering in silence and putting on a strong face. A boy forced by trauma to grow into a man, a man that went through so much, alone and broken.

Dr. Spencer Reid is the textbook example of the way this job with the BAU can form and bend you. He suffered through kidnappings, forced drug use, bullet wounds, near-death experiences, loss of his lover, betrayal, prison, family issues and so much more. And he never even said a word when the world was showing him its darkest side.

People noticed and tried to help, but Spencer is a stubborn man, pushing his needs and emotions into the background and giving his all for others and the cases. His genius mind can’t handle the thought of burdening someone else with his problems. He rode himself into them, so he has to find a way out.

Sadly you saw the downfall of that thinking a few times. The secretive drug use while everybody knew, him shutting down after Maeve’s death, the way he grew harder to face the terror of the world.

The way the soft and sweet boy from the start was forced to hide under a strong and colder man to protect himself from the jobs’ impact on the psyche.

It’s not unusual for Spencer to disappear after some cases, just touched down with the jet and he is off, his head filled with dark and confusing thoughts. You watch him every time he rushes off the plane, throwing tight-lipped smiles to your coworkers.

These are the moments where you realize that the young boy inside him is breaking through, threatening to drown under the darkness he accumulated over the years.

You say your goodbyes to the others and follow the man out of the building, trying to catch up to him. Being one of his best friends sadly grants you the knowledge of how deep his thoughts can spiral and the way he tries to sift through them by himself.

The way he will self sabotage himself until he is broken and doesn’t see the good in himself anymore. Breaking him out of that spiral is nearly impossible, but you can slow the fall if you coax him out of his mind, which is your goal for this day. Further help will come when he accepts it.

It’s late in the afternoon, the sun slowly setting and dipping the world into some fiery oranges and reds, a stark contrast to the green under your feet. When Spencer spirals he hides away from the world, trying to find comfort in the calm and quiet. While that was his apartment once, it holds too much sorrow and other words now for his mind to form its own.

A soft smile settles on your lips when you see the familiar tall figure slumped under a weeping willow, the irony of the name not passing you by. It would have been amusing if you didn’t know the depths the tree already saw coming from Spencer. The many tears and dark thoughts that flow all around the dark bark.

The lake was a resort of calm for Spencer, becoming his new safe haven. Not many bad things happen here and it’s secluded enough to let his thoughts wander, allowing him to break apart under the green leaves and the protective shield of the hanging branches. Maybe he specifically sought out this tree because of the name. It’s a place for him to weep and feel his emotions.

Slowly, to not startle the man, you settle on the soft grass, keeping some distance between your folded legs. Spencer doesn’t deal well with touch and when his mind is occupied it's even more unwelcome. His body will reach out when it needs the comfort of another person.

Calm and silence encase you, only the warm wind rustling through the heavy branches and the soft whispering of the water in the lake, reminding you of the life in nature.

The first time you found Spencer here, through the help of an app on his phone, the calm stifled you and made you worry a lot more about his mental health. But now you can see the way it is the opposite of the job, the cases, the horror, the darkness.

Spencer shifts beside you, his leg nudging yours and you smile, keeping your eyes on the water. Many visits here made him realize he can open up to you, but he still feels like a burden, so you learned to wait.

Wait for him to speak, to settle his thoughts, and open himself up to another person. Sometimes it only takes minutes, sometimes hours and sometimes the dark of the night will leave you with no words from him at all.

Quietly you turn your hand so the grass tickles the back of it, opening yourself up for his touch. It takes a bit but then you feel the warmth of his fingers close around yours, hesitant and then stronger and nearly desperate. You stroke his skin and he finally looks at you, mustering you with deep brown eyes, questions lingering just under the surface.

Meeting his gaze, you stay quiet and wait, not breaking eye contact while he tries to sort his thoughts to convey them to you. Because this is the time he wants to share, share his doubts, his dreams, his ideas, and his desperations.

“Is it worth it?”

It’s a whispered and choked question coming from him, his voice shaking at the end, making your heart clench in your chest. It’s a loaded question, one that would make or break him. Squeezing his hand, you take a deep breath and settle your view back onto the lake. To be honest, you asked yourself the same question a lot already. Every bad case lingers for days and the fact that you were too slow, too unknowing, too helpless, settles heavily on you.

Could you have done more? Would the victim still be alive if you were just… better? Faster? More? But this is what breaks you, makes you spiral, and lets you forget the light in life. The good side that challenges the dark.

You look back at Spencer and meet his teary eyes, ready to spill the sorrow and pain he holds.

“I don’t know, Spencer. I won’t lie to you. I don’t know if this job is worth the pain and suffering. But I know that the result will only be the same when you let it dictate you. I once thought that going would be the best course of action, just leave and let it behind you. All the death and blood and horror. But I can’t”, you laugh dryly, the thought heavy on your heart.

“I can’t let the darkness win. I can’t just ignore the way that bad people will win when nobody is fighting for the light anymore. So no, it might not be worth it, but I can’t live with myself when I don’t try. I will lose myself when I let them win.”

You sigh, a deep and heavy sound, making you realize that you aren’t that black and white either. Not as deeply traumatized as Spencer, but still scarred by the job you handle. It seems unavoidable when you stare at the darkest emotions and twisted minds daily.

Spencer’s grip on your hand tightens and his knee settles heavily on yours, desperate for the warmth and the solidity that is your body, your presence.

He is quiet, but you can hear his thoughts running around his brilliant mind, racing to catch his attention. Trying to process your words and applying the meaning to himself, adding to his own beliefs or changing it.

Slowly you lift your hand and touch his cheek, wet with spilled tears, and he watches you, his whole attention on you. You smile, amused by the fact how quickly you dust his mind with a touch.

“Spencer, I would take it all. All the pain, if I could. But I can’t.”

He nods slowly, unknowingly leaning into your touch while you stroke his skin, wiping away the tears and wishing you could heal his broken soul.

“What I can do is give you my promise. I promise you that I will be there to pull you from the depths of your mind. You don’t deserve the darkness that plagues you and I will do my best to make you realize that there is still so much light inside you.”

Spencer takes your hand from his cheek and pushes forward, crushing into your body and clutching onto you. Sobs wrack him and wet tears soak into your shoulder, all his emotions rushing out and leaving him a scared boy, the same one that saw his dad leave.

With a heavy heart, you hold onto him, arms secure around him, shielding him and his vulnerability from the world.

“There's a sorrow and pain in everyone's life, but every now and then there's a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed.”

― Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer x reader #reader insert #franca-writes

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jauneda1 · 3 years

Text

RWBY

The New War AU

"Author's note" This Au is a little different from the original RWBY adaptation, with slight character changes, and well War.

After Initiation and team selection

Jaune has already slipped away into the background in order to get away from everything going on in the ballroom. He soon finds himself writing in his notepad while silently thinking out new moves and ways to improve his swordsmanship. "I got nicked more times then I wanted during initiation. So much happened I tried to hide my true strength but that beowolf knocked my sword away I had no choice but to engage in hand to hand thank you dad for make the shield sharp around the edges and point. Atleast Yang is okay. I saw her get tossed by that deathstalker. Wait why am I worried about her she can handle it " Jaune let in a breath and then continued to walk around campus. Sooner or later he was going to have to face his team. He knew he wasn't ready for that also giving that he was the leader. " Man I can't believe I'm the leader of my own team, big sis owes me an apology. Saying I would never make team leader. Ricky would have made team leader."

Jaune had made his way back to the dorm room. Greeting his new team, he learned that outside of Pyrrha his other two teammates where pretty chill. Lie Ren being some sort of ninja or something close to it. Nora being bubbliey but lade back."Funny I was expecting the two of them to be completely different people but they act the same. Nora is like one of my little sister's." Pyrrha spoke up greeting Jaune and him to her even though they become partners in the forest they really didn't say much. Well Jaune didn't say much. When they crossed paths it was simple she saved him, he saved her round and round it goes. " Sorry if I came off distancing while in initiation. I was just focused on getting a high scoring." Pyrrha spoke to him and said oh no it's fine she had just hoped she hadn't rubbed him the wrong way.

After a few greetings a knock had came from the door. It was team RWBY who where they're neighbor's to Jaune's dismay. It wasn't really the fact of they're team but it's brawler. Yang Xiao long was one of Jaune's childhood bullies/crush she used to tell me to be a man back when we where in elementary. Then as we got older she would pick at my hight I used to pick at her boobs being huge and how they could be saggy if they get any bigger. But we've grown closer over the years. Her jokes and puns are funny too.

Group had a little get together party with Yang and Jaune sharing stories about the other from when they went to signal. Ruby would chime in to keep the two from fighting. Since there's a rivalry between the two. No one understood why till Jaune spoke. "It started on the first day at signal it was combat class and Yang underestimated me and got thrown out of the ring. This was before my father entrusted the family sword and shield to me so I would occasionally use boxing and simple judo, and jujitsu fighting style's." What Jaune didn't tell everyone was he has an intermediate almost advanced knowledge in Wing Chun fighting style. This is after he picked up the family sword he always made sure that if he were to every lose his sword in battle he would need a way to beat any and all enemy types. From Grimm to thugs and even other huntsman. Since so many have gone rogue his father thought it was necessary.

"Yang rushed me and it cost her a bump and a bruise when I grabbed her arm and used her momentum to throw her over my shoulder and into the ring out." Yang then spoke up and she had venomous spite in her voice. "Jaune now you know our combat class was always first to three. I beat you two times after that." Jaune spoke up now a bit agitated at the blonde beauty in front of him. " And yet I still beat you in the long run. Or did you forget that after all this this time?"

Ruby finally got in-between the two because they looked like they where gonna go at it again.

"Jeez you two are always like this, just hurry up and get back together already. You both know it's inevitable." Everyone in the room besides the three of them were shocked and surprised to say the least. Ruby finally explained while the two blondes turned they're heads away out of embarrassment. "It's been like this for about 3 years. During a house party they feuded with each other till Jaune had said something to her which made both of them leave the party together. The next thing people knew was that the Dragon and the White knight of Signal were dating."

Weiss spoke up. "Wait wait wait... You two are the Dragon and white knight of Signal academy? Do you two have any idea how well known you two are.?" Both Yang and Jaune looked at each other then back at Weiss not knowing what she was talking about. "Look at every pre-huntsman school they're are 5 students who are picked and given nicknames so that Huntsman Academies would know who to scout out in initiation. To get put in this top 5 you literally have to beat out everyone else in your school both academically and physically in training."

Blake have spoke up just to see if she understood what was being said. "So basically what your saying is that Yang and Jaune are in a league of their own?" Ruby then explained fully to Blake. "Well to be fair Me, Jaune, Yang, and Pyrrha. Are in the same level cap in a way of saying." Nora spoke up saying "oh so like a video game." With Ren saying "In a sense yes it is." Pyrrha took everything that everyone was saying and informed them that. "This is how Beacon has always done there team make ups. With two high grade fighters being budded up. The Initiation is held with an even amount of high grade students and low grade students. If by any chance r high grades come together they are split up. So for our team JNPR, Jaune and Myself are the high grades, and from what I gathered in skill wise from earlier Yang and Ruby are team RWBY'S high grades."

After everything was said the group noticed that Jaune and Yang weren't even there. Ren informed them that they left a while ago. Ruby said "Well this is normal they're always ditching lectures and class together, regardless if there together together or not."

On the roof our blondes were sitting with there leg's over the edge and leaning on each other, Yang spoke up. "Your not as talkative as much as you used to be."

Jaune responded with a low mutter which caused Yang to look more his way in hopes of getting a better response out of him. He finally succumbed to his feelings and brought up stone they were together. "Remember that time you told me it wasn't my fault."

Yang knew what was coming and was preparing to comfort her friend, the one and only man she loved.

"Ricky's death was my fault and always will be my fault and you getting hurt the way you did back then was." Jaune was cut off when Yang had pulled him into an embrace pulling him and herself away from the edge of the building. "Jaune..." Yang noticed the tears that are flowing down his face and she hated seeing him like this. It would hurt her more when she couldn't stop those tears. "Yang I know what your gonna say and ask. And yes the past year of me training and getting ready for this moment in my life. I've done nothing but think about how Ricky deserved to be here aswell that this was his dream school and all because I wanted to rush to get stronger H-h- ... He died saving me from my stupidity." Yang held him comforting him. Little did most people know was that Jaune may come off as a strong individual but he is very mentally weak with his life constantly pushing his mind to a break and collapse. Yang has always been there to keep that from happening. She has looked out and after him like he was a little brother and she started dating to do this more but also because she truly cares for him.

Jaune stopped his talking and embraced Yang back. "I'm sorry Yang I've just been lost in thought for so long that I've forgotten." "Jaune that's why I'm here to crack jokes and be by your side" Jaune thanked his fellow blonde with a kiss which was reciprocated. It wasn't long but it was enough to start a fire in the dragon as she pulled him down and got on top of him.

"So does this mean where together-together again or just a friend's with benefits thing."

"You tell me you kissed me first?"

The two began to embrace each other on the roof while secretly they where being watched by ember yellow eyes. "Huh they're bond is way deeper then Ruby told us."

That's a wrap part 2 should be out by tomorrow hopefully.

Hope you all have enjoyed

#jaune arc #yang xiao long #yang x jaune #rwby #rwby fanfiction #team jnpr #team rwby #slight smut

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hiilikeanimelol · 2 years

Text

IM BACK BITCHES

Hi im oli! (He/it)

I am a bisexual, trans and intersex guy, I am 18 and in my first year of university studying policing

-also hi cute little side note, it's highly likely that I am autistic so tone tags are always appreciated because tone just makes no sense to me ♡

♡KIN LIST♡

Undertaker (BB) we have matching piercings finally!

Tomura shigaraki (BNHA) I love him

Viktor hargeeves (UA) his coming out scene made me weep

Mammon (OM!SWD) my love

Rook hunt (TWST) French man

10th,11th and 12th doctor (doctor who)

main fandoms that I will waffle on about are:

GOOD OMENS MY GIRLFRIEND GOT ME INTO GOOD OMENS AND I LOVE HIM FOR THAT AND THEY SAID WE CAN GO TO A HALLOWEEN PARTY DRESSED AS CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE SHES SO SLSNSNSSNSBS

Doctor who

Twisted wonderland

Obey me

My hero academia

And

Attack on titan

Heartstopper

Umbrella academy

I am a massive music geek and am constantly listening to music, a lot of my playlists are made up of:

Random hand

KoRn

Slipknot

Green day

My chemical romance

Ricky Montgomery

Mitski

Waterparks

Metallica

Arctic monkeys

The virgin marys

CRASHFACE

A lot of the time I will waffle about my personal life too all of which will be under #ollie rambles

Any vents or rants will go under #ollies vents

Feel free to just block both these tags if you're only here for memes

I try my best to keep this blog organised but I've had it for a fucking while now, I lowkey want to start a new one thats organised but im afraid I've grown attached this blog over the time I've been active on it

I've made some amazing friends on this app and im always down for making more (heads up that I will be awkward for the first week of talking but then I'll settle down, social is difficult)

If anyone ever wants any other social media I have then feel free to send me a message or an ask and I'll give you my username in dm's, doesn't matter if we talk or not I just don't want my Snapchat and Instagram usernames out on tumblr

Little bit about me physically:

I have an industrial on my left ear and most of the time a silver skull hoops in my first lobes and skull studs in my seconds, I also have my helix pierced on my right ear which is also silver. I've got a silver septum which i have to flip up around familt because they told me i couksnt have it so i did it anyway lol. My hair is currently down to my chin (it needs cutting) and my roots are atrocious.

DNI IF YOU ARE

Racist

Homophobic / transphobic

Ableist

Sexist

Pro-life

Trump supporter

Believe MAPS are a part of the lqbtq

Are ginger /j

And also, do not come into my asks on anon and accuse me of faking ed's, self harm and suicidal thoughts. I have better things to fucking do then deal with your bullshit. Also don't just leave anonymous messages of

"She" "girl" "woman" "tranny" "faggot"

I have enough shit on my plate, go seek mental help xx

And also my dm's are open to anyone at all times, whether you just need a friend or if u want someone to talk to. I will never turn someone down if you want to vent or anything, ill listen to anyone about anything, if you want advice then I shall try my best and if you just want me to listen to get stuff off your chest then thats also fine.

If I think of anything else I'll add to this, ill make notes down here of when I update anything

~ the one and only oliver xx

Og post : 14/11/2021

First of many edits: I changed the physical stuff a bit 27/11/2021

Second edit: 04/01/2022

Third edit: age change 28/02/2022

Fourth edit: rewording and piercing changes 29/03/2022

Fifth edit: removed lost ear cuff in the physical description 16/04/2022

Sixth edit: added heartstopper into what I waffle on about 28/04/2022

Seventh edit: dyed my hair purple again!! 02/05/2022

Eighth edit: got second lobes pierced 17/05/22

Ninth edit: got helix pierced, hair colour faded baddddd, changed jewelery and added umbrella academy to intrests also added a current kin list 27/06/2022

Tenth edit: dyed my hair purple and got a silver septum ring and a silver lip ring 20/07/2022

eleventh edit: hair faded and im no longer a first year at college lol 23/08/2022

twelfth edit: got a job and dyed my hair red 08/09/2022

thirteenth edit: I'm now legally an adult 28/02/2023

fourteenth edit: updated my kin list from just the 10th doctor to the 11th and 12th too 15/03/2023

fifteenth edit: tone tag mention and changed my jewelry 04/04/2023

sixteenth edit: mm hair dye 16/04/2023

17th edit: I'm back! Still severely depressed but I'm here. been working mad hours and spent the last 7 days high with no breaks 08/08/2023

18th edit : got my septum pierced, broke up with my SHITTY ex and got with someone who treats me the way I'm supposed to be treated AND I've started uni 11/09/23

19th edit : GOOD OMENS EEK!! 17/10/2023

20th edit : got a mullet kinda thing and dyed it dark blue 12/12/2023

#ollies introduction #and rules ig

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365days365movies · 3 years

Text

May 1, 2021: The Prestige (2006) (Recap: Part One)

What’s that old Arthur C. Clarke quote again?

Not that one, although that’s...that’s fantastic, and I need to know more context to that conversation. But no, no, not that. The other one.

Not that one, although that’s...horrifying. Let me explain something first, then. Clarke was the author of the classic science-fiction novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, which definitely didn’t go on to become one of the most widely regarded films of all time. Anyway, he was a big-shot in science fiction, and was even knighted for his prominence in pop culture in the UK and across the world.

Fellow famous sci-fi author Isaac Asimov is well known for three rules of robotics, but Clarke has three rules of his own. A futurist, his laws describe conjecture about scientific development in the future of out societies. Those laws are:

When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.

The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Magic, huh?

God, I love Weird Al. Anyway, as a child of the ‘90s, I am well-acquainted with the boom of stage magicians that appeared during that time, and during the early 2000s. David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear, David Blaine coughed up a live frog, Criss Angel freaked minds; lot of stuff back then.

And yet, despite other recent magicians like Penn and Teller or Dynamo, the greatest age of stage magic isn’t even CLOSE to the 90′s. No, no, to really see magic in its heyday, we need to go back to the late 1800s and early 1900s, to the days of the stage illusionist.

Obviously, the first person that comes to mind is Harry Houdini, a man whose feats have lasted the test of time, and may have led to his death. Not only did he get buried alive, not only did he escape from a straitjacket in chains underwater, NOT ONLY did he hold his breath inside a water-filled milk can inside of a wooden chest repeatedly for FOUR YEARS, but he was also the greatest enemy of spiritualists and mediums everywhere!

Yeah, despite being a stage magician, Houdini was OBSESSED with exposing those who claimed to be actually supernatural. After all, as a showman, he was interesting in exposing tricks that were meant to defraud the innocent public. Dude was awesome, is what I’m saying. He died from a burst appendix, which miiiiight have been caused by a student who punched him in the stomach after asking if he was actually resistant to abdominal damage. Yeah, not a great death. And he wasn’t the only illusionist to die of tragic circumstances, but that’s a discussion for another day. Because of this is sci-fi month...why am I talking about magic? Well...imagine a lighter.

Now image that you went back 5,000 years, to any civilization, and showed them a lighter. The ability to create fire with seemingly nothing but your bare hands? You’re basically a wizard! Fire from no visible fuel? TEACH ME YOUR WAYS, O SORCERER OF THE FLAME!!! And that’s just a goddamn lighter.

What about a light bulb? Light from energy you’ve harnessed from metals and from the air itself? Jujube! A camera? With the ability to capture a moment in time in the form of a tangible image? WITCHCRAFT!!! A smartphone? A FUCKING SMARTPHONE???

And so, in celebration of the blurring of magic and science...why not start this month with an unconventional form of science fiction, huh? Something that blurs magic and science in a way that’s indistinguishable. And so, I can FINALLY watch a movie that I’ve wanted to watch for YEARS!

I am so excited, and this is a hell of a way to kick off the month! Why this? Well, I’ll explain that later. But for now...LET’S DO THIS.

SPOILER ALERT!!!

Recap (1/2)

There are three acts of magic.

First is “the pledge”, where the magician shows something normal. Then, there’s “the turn”, which is when the ordinary becomes extraordinary. And finally, there’s the act of bringing the show full-circle; bringing back a disappeared object, in a new way and with a new technique. That final act, the showmanship, the establishment of the mystery, is called “the prestige”.

So is told to us by John Cutter (Michael Caine), keeper of canaries and stage engineer to magicians, via narration abut magic. Intercut with that narration, and with a disappearing canary trick, is the presentation of an act being performed by Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman). In it, he turns on a machine using electricity, with lightning bolts flying freely. He steps inside of it, and disappears.

Meanwhile, coming from the audience, a man pretends to be part of the act, and goes backstage and underneath the machine. There, he witnesses Angier fall through a trap door into a water tank, unable to get out, panicking and drowning. Which is just super fun to watch, lemme tell you! And that is where the story starts.

The man from the audience was Alfred Borden (Christian Bale), who is quickly put on trial for the murder of Angier. A rival of his during the 1890s and early 1900s, Borden is sent to jail, and sent to death by hanging. This is as his young daughter watches on. In court, Alfred testifies against Bruce Wayne on how he murdered Wolverine, because this is all I could think of the entire time. Anyway, the court asks for more details on the trick that killed Angier, called “the Transported Man”. He refuses to divulge it publicly, but agrees to tell it to one of the judges in secret.

In prison, Borden’s visited by a representative of a wealthy collector of items, Lord Caldlow. He asks if he will sell him his most prominent trick, the “Transported Man”. But Borden also refuses, as it’s HIS trick. Still, in response, the man gives Borden a journal of Angier’s’, and asks him to think about selling the secret. And from there: flashback!

Angier is on a train, heading to Colorado Springs, where he’s surprised to see that the whole town has electricity. His plan is to go up the mountain, which is closed for scientific experimentation. Which isn’t ominous at all! That completely banal revelation is followed by a walk up the mountain in the fog, past a fence that says no trespassing and LITERAL WARNING SIGNS.

There, he’s greeted by Alley (Andy Serkis), the assistant of the estate’s owner. Apparently, said owner made a machine for Borden, and Angier wants to learn the secrets. Another flashback, and we learn that Borden and Angier, rival magicians now, met a long time ago at the show of another magician, both volunteering to tie up the female assistant, Julia (Piper Perabo). Which would be creepy out of context, and then is creepy IN context when Angier kisses her thigh. Ew.

Anyway, they drop her into a tank, with a pretty stereotypical trick. After the show, we also learn that these two men are actually working for the magician, Milton (Ricky Jay), which makes that thigh kiss less creepy. Talking to Cutter and Julia, Borden mocks Milton’s trick, noting that the old magician won’t even try something like a bullet catch. Cutter mocks this idea, and asks if Borden has any better ideas. It’s around this time that Cutter suggests seeing Chung Ling Soo. Huh. I won’t say anything about that until later.

Or right now! And, uh...oh shit, this is extraordinarily awkward. Here’s the thing: this is NOT Chung Ling Soo. I know this for two reasons. One, Soo didn’t really pretend to be crippled, as Borden and Angier suggest. Wasn’t really his bag. But something that IS interesting about the guy is how he died! BULLET CATCH TRICK!! Yup! He tried the bullet catch trick, and he died when the bullet actually fired at him! Yeah, awkward.

And you know what else is awkward, and really different from this story? Chung Ling Soo was...not Chinese. Even a little bit. His real name was William Ellsworth Robinson, he married his assistant, cheated on her with another assistant, never divorced and still married his new assistant illegally, etc. He was an interesting guy. Ignoring, y’know, the whole disgustingly shitty yellow-face thing. Different times, unfortunately.

Borden’s frustration with an act he considers boring and obsolete erupts during one of Milton’s shows, where we see him KILL A BIRD, FUCK ME MAN. Yeah, I get it, Borden, this is terrible! This coincides with meeting a young woman and her nephew, who is also upset to see a bird die in front of him. The woman is Sarah (Rebecca Hall), and the two start a romance. Meanwhile, the romance between Angier and Julia is a straight-up marriage, making that thigh kiss fare more understandable. And, the two are about to have a baby, to both of their delight! Nothing bad will happen now!

We flash forward to the future, where Cutter is showing the judge what’s what with the device. He claims that a wizard built it, and that the machine can actually do what magicians have only pretended to do for years. They also look at a tank, and Cutter reveals that the tank has a terrible history, especially for the two magicians.

Flashback again, to a night of yet another show. That night, Milton and the group go through with their trick, as per usual. However, Borden decides to make it a little tougher and more exciting by tying a different knot this time. And unfortunately...Julia can’t untie it. They try to get her out in time, but alas...it’s too late.

Julia dies, and Angier blames Borden, who isn’t even entirely sure if he tied the knot that killed Julia...allegedly. Not a big fan of Borden right now. The act is over, and Borden decides to split off and do his own act, calling himself “the Professor”. Now having a child of his own with Sarah, he decides to do a bullet trick, with the help of new stage engineer, Fallon. But this is a tricky trick to perform. And the understandable mental breakdown of Angier causes its own problems.

See, during one of Borden’s shows (which is going TERRIBLY), a disguised Angiers shows up and loads a REAL bullet into the gun for the trick, and BLOWS OFF TWO OF HIS FINGERS FUCK ME!!! Borden’s not exactly happy about this, but he recovers quickly. Shortly after, Cutter finds Angier at a bar, and offers him the opportunity to make a new show of his own. Reluctantly, he accepts, and takes up the moniker “the Great Danton”, a name that his late wife suggested.

With a new bird/cage trick, one that lets the bird LIVE (THANK YOU), they’re almost set. But they also add a new assistant, in the form of...Black Widow. I mean, sorry, Olivia Wenscombe (Scarlett Johansson). Yeah, um...Wolver, Alfred Pennyworth, and Black Widow are working together in competition against Batman. Also, Gollum is in the movie, too. God, what’s next, David Bowie?

Anyway, the show is on once again, and Angier asks for some volunteers in the audience. But, uh oh! One of them is Borden in disguise, and he sabotages the trick in front of EVERYBODY, breaking an audience member’s fingers, and killing the bird, completely fucking up Angier’s career, in revenge for his fingers. Oh, also, MOTHERFUCKER YOU KILLED HIS WIFE (maybe)!!! Doesn’t justify Angier shooting off your fingers, but you could’ve just let bygones be! No wonder you’re rivals in the future! Batman’s a dick (which, given Christian Bale, isn’t that surprising).

Well, since his trick, Angier’s fucked. They’re kicked out of the theater, and in need of a new act. Cutter suggests that Angier goes to the upcoming science exposition for ideas. And yes...that’s where the science fiction angle starts in. See, like Clarke said, any science that’s sophisticated enough LOOKS like magic to audiences who don’t understand it. And Borden has the same idea, as he also heads to the expo.

It’s there that a presentation of a massive electrical generator is being held, with the machine having been invented by...Nicola Tesla! YO!

I don’t think I need to tell anybody about Tesla at this point, but he was a brilliant physicist and inventor from the early 1900s. His legendary Current War with Thomas Alva Edison for the current to be used by the United States (Tesla’s DC vs. Edison’s AC) is the stuff of science legend...and is a conflict that the far less charismatic Tesla lost. Still, his mastery of electricity (such as the above Tesla coil) is remembered today. If you want to go sightseeing, check out New York! In Niagara Falls, he’s got a massive statue overlooking the falls; and in Bryant Park in NYC, you can sit on the bench where he fed his beloved pigeons. Yeah, he loved pigeons, which I respect.

Anyway, the expo’s shut down due to presumed danger of the exhibit, possibly spurred on by Thomas Edison and his PR team. Which is pretty accurate, not gonna lie. Still, the experiment interests both Angier and Borden. Still, Angier doesn’t do much with this information. Right now, anyway.

Flash forward to Angier in Colorado Springs, and a group of men from Edison’s employ are there for some reason. But undeterred, Angier heads back to Tesla’s lab, where Alley shows him a gorgeous sight: lightbulbs dotting a field, making a gorgeous grid of light. He reveals that the source of the electricity is 15 miles away, as a testament to Tesla’s scientific genius. Stellar.

A great place to pause. See you in Part Two of this Recap!

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rockandroobuckaroll · 3 years

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Shyan Mafia AU - Chapter One

This is the first chapter of my first Shyan fic, so any comments/notes would be helpful. I'm currently waiting on an email from A03 to make a new account, so when it's up I'll start uploading this there too.

A couple people asked about this too being @watcher-savage and @celestial-e I apologise in advance for my inability to write chapters less than 5000 words haha

This is a mafia AU where Ryan is a newbie in the mob, looking to gain protection. He’s sent after a guy known only as ‘Legs’ to take care of business... only things aren’t so simple as that. Ryan must lure this ‘Legs’ guy out to some place quiet... but he’s not the only guy in town who’s after him.

Life hadn't been easy for Ryan Bergara. He'd been on his own most of his life, not many friends and he had no family that he was particularly close with. Ryan didn't know what had happened to his parents or younger brother, only that they were six feet under and not by natural causes. It had happened one night when he wasn't home, instead he was out partying with his old friends from college. He'd come home to a sight that caused many sleepless nights, a sight decorated with shades of red that he could never wash out of his clothes.

Ryan had been a paranoid man from that night onwards, afraid he was next on the list and he would be murdered some day soon. It lead him to lead a sheltered life, shut away from friends and remaining family. If he was on his own maybe people would forget he existed entirely. Being alone kept him alive, despite the loneliness it brought him.

It was this loneliness that eventually brought Ryan to a decision that would change his life forever.

Ryan needed protection and he craved a family like the one he used to know and love, and there was a way to kill two birds with one stone; he did have to admit he must have been crazy to come to the conclusion however. His dad was a wealthy, powerful man, he and his wife had ties to higher ups that they kept secret. Ryan knew they weren't just rumours made up by people in the street, after all he'd been at family dinners where strangers in sharp suits were invited, he'd overheard meetings and phone calls. It was certainly no secret to him that his family were part of the Californian Mafia.

During the day his dad was a humble dentist but by night he was out in a tailored suit, attending meetings and 'taking care of business'. Ryan's mom always joked that his dad was part of the men in black and that he used to go out and hunt aliens and as a child he had believed her. As he grew older and pieced together the truth Ryan thought it was pretty cool what his dad did, although that novelty came to an abrupt end the night they lost their lives.

It was a longshot, but he hoped that the men who used to come round his house for dinner would take him in, train him up, and give him the protection that he needed to sleep at night. He could be brave if he was in the mob, he had to be, and maybe he could finally get some sleep at night. If he couldn't all those years of shutting himself away would have been pointless and Ryan didn't ever want to admit that to himself.

That was how he found himself sat in a leather armchair in a small office, sat opposite a man he recognised from his youth. The man was much older now, hair grey and he wore glasses that weren't previously needed, but he still had the same believable kindness behind his eyes - though Ryan knew better than to trust that kindness.

"I'm glad you came to us Ricky, we can give you the protection you need." The elderly man sat behind the desk spoke, his voice smooth and soothing. He may not look it, but the man in front of him was the big boss of the Californian Mafia, overseeing the ins and outs of the entire organisation; he was known only as Father Thomas. He was a man no one wanted to cross.

"Um, my name is Ryan, sir." Ryan corrected him, realising afterwards that he probably should have known better. If the movies were anything to go off he shouldn't talk back to these kinds of people.

"Ryan, my child, you don't want to give out your identity to men who are going to use it against you. From now on if someone asks for your name, you tell them its Ricky: Ricky Goldsworth." The Father had a point, although Ryan assumed it would take him a while to get used to that alias - he would probably have to write it down. "You're new here and you want our protection... but not everything is free, Ricky."

"I'll do anything, sir." He was honest when he said 'anything'. Ryan wouldn't have resorted to the mafia if he wasn't willing to leave his old miserable life behind him.

Father Thomas leaned forward, elbows resting on the dark oak desk and his chin atop his interlaced fingers. "Anything?" He looked Ryan in his eyes, peering deep into his very soul. "Here's the thing, Ricky. I believe you when you say you'll do anything, I do... but I don't know if my good friends will be willing to back you up. So I've got a little job for you. It's a risky job, you'll be tested for sure, but if you pull it off I can make you very wealthy very quickly... and throw in a couple of trained assistants of mine to keep you safe at night." The Father leaned back again much to Ryan's relief and opened up one of the heavy looking drawers on the desk, pulling out a large, beige binder and flipping through before taking a page out.

The paper had a personal file, a photo attached with a paperclip at the top. There wasn't much known about him, no name to call him; only an alias was written down. "This here guy is a bit of a troublemaker for us. We've lost many good men to him, he's cunning and has a perfect record when it comes to his work."

"And you want me to..."

"To take care of business, yes." Ryan suddenly wasn't so sure. He picked up the photo of the man. He had dark hair slicked back and had a slender build. He was wearing a navy suit with a white shirt only half buttoned up and sunglasses covering his eyes. "We don't know all that much about this guy, only that he goes by the nickname 'Legs' and that he's extremely hard to catch. If you go after him your loyalty and dedication to us will be tested, naturally, as well as your skill and methods. I can't promise you'll ever come back though... so what's it going to be, Ricky?"

Ryan thought over carefully. He couldn't deny his heart was pounding so loud in his ears that Father Thomas could probably hear it, nor that his hands shook slightly as he held the photo. He was terrified of what this 'Legs' could do to him, or what he had done to others. He was also terrified of his own desperation. He was scared of how tired of being paranoid he was, how tired he was of being scared and alone. If things didn't work out and he ended up getting killed... would that really be so bad?

A snarky voice in the back of Ryan's mind told him he should have probably gone back to his therapist instead of paying the mob a visit, but it was far too late to listen to logic and reasoning now.

"Where was he last sighted?" Ryan bravely spoke up, gaining a small smile from the man in front of him. Ryan knew whichever way things went it would be a win-win for him - though deep down he had a feeling things were more realistically lose-lose, it wouldn't hurt to at least try.

"Yesterday in New Orleans, that's when that photo was taken." Ryan placed the photo down on the desk and looked over the rather empty file, he'd be going into this practically blind. "We've got an unused hotel in that area you can use to take care of him, one of my boys will give you the keys. We can get you a flight too, private of course."

"New Orleans..." It was a long way from home, although Ryan was almost glad of that. He'd only left his home state of California a few times and only ever as a child, on holidays and such. Hopefully leaving the state would do his mental health some good. "When's the flight?"

"We can get you in the air by six in the morning, you'll have all day to get your bearings and get to work." Ryan hadn't expected it to be so soon, although he supposed he didn't have to make up any excuses to anyone about where he was going. His job at the local theatre realistically wouldn't get him anywhere anyway and they could easily replace him in an instant. He had hoped one day to be making his own movies, or at the very least work on big productions, but it was a difficult industry to crack.

"Six AM..." He nodded to himself. "Okay... I'll do it."

Ryan was restless that evening, barely touching his bland microwave meal and constantly reorganising his suitcase, filling it with only the essentials and his best sneakers. He showered and sat on the edge of his bed beside his opened suitcase until early hours in the morning, going over what he had to do. The plan was relatively simple: find this 'Legs' guy, take him to the hotel and... it was the last step Ryan was having trouble coming to terms with. He knew he would have to kill some guy he had never met. He probably had a family, maybe a wife or a child - at the very least he probably lived alone with a cat. Could he really do that? Could he really take someone's life?

He had opened his laptop and looked at Google Maps for a solid hour, trying his best to memorise the streets of New Orleans, the routes he would have to take to get to the old hotel the mafia had given him the key for. He didn't know how he was even find 'Legs', New Orleans is a big city after all, though he had been tipped about a diner that the man had been seen frequenting over the past few weeks so hopefully that was a start. Part of him hoped he never ran into him and that he would just have to live a quiet life in Louisiana, surely the deep south couldn't be all bad.

Hoping that he had everything memorised, Ryan decided that there was no point in getting any sleep now, he could just hopefully sleep during the three hour flight. He changed into something that would make him look like he was going on a business trip, something the guys at the office had informed him would be his cover up. If anyone asked him he was taking care of the hotel to prepare it for new ownership, that was all they needed to know. He settled on a silver suit and with a black tie, hoping he didn't look too affiliated with any gang; he didn't want to go over the top and wear a fedora with sunglasses, that was way too cliché.

By four in the morning there was a knock on his door and before he knew it he was on a private jet making his way to New Orleans. Ryan watched as the sleepy city slowly awoke, the sun slowly making it's way above the horizon. It didn't take long for his lack of sleep to catch up with him and a few minutes of resting his eyes managed to turn into him sleeping through his short flight. The next thing he knew was that he was being prodded awake by the pilot.

The pilot in front of him was a, quite frankly, dodgy looking, slender individual. His dark hair was greasy and slicked back and his eyes were just as dark as his hair. His skin was tan with little blemishes on his sunken face and his nose was crooked, his teeth matching the nature of his nose and were in desperate need of a dentist. He wore a pinstripe suit, black with thin cream stripes, over-polished shiny black dress shoes and a cufflink shaped like a red dice adorned the white shirt that peaked out from his slightly short sleeves. He was almost the complete opposite of Father Thomas.

"We're here." He sounded just as slimy as he looked, Ryan couldn't believe he actually fell asleep knowing it was only the two of them on the plane; he would be sure to check for any scars when he was alone later on to see if he had any missing kidneys. "You know what you're doing, right?"

"Yeah." A simple yet effective lie.

"Good. Then get off my jet." He ushered Ryan and his luggage out, the poor man still half asleep and aching from sitting in one spot for three hours. "If you by some miracle get the job done give Father Thomas a call, I'll come back and fetch you. Good luck."

With that hurried goodbye, Ryan was left on his own in a city he didn't know. He knew he should have been nervous, probably terrified given what he was supposed to be doing there, yet the only thing he felt was hungry. He'd skipped breakfast and barely ate any of his dinner the night before. He decided the best thing to do was find somewhere to get a bite to eat and ask around for any clues where to find this 'Legs' guy; Father Thomas had informed him of the perfect place.

Diners were always a hit and miss experience, although the small building that had been recommended by Father Thomas seemed to house a semi-decent establishment. It had a pleasant scent of coffee and bacon, mixed with a hint of pine from the décor. It was cosy, welcoming and much to Ryan's relief: empty. Not to mention, apparently 'Legs' had been sighted coming in and out of there all week. It was the perfect spot to start looking.

He sat at one of the barstools and looked up at the menu, mouth already beginning to salivate at just the stock photos of the food they served. "Hiya, hon, what can I get you?" A young, blonde waitress appeared from the beaded curtains, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes; a symptom of an early shift in the quieter outskirts of the city.

"Hi, can I get a black coffee and some pancakes please." At this point Ryan would eat anything, even if it came out of the trash.

"Sure thing, hon." She scribbled down the order and took the payment before pouring Ryan his coffee from the glass pot. The first sip burned his tongue but it helped wake him up a little. A few minutes later the waitress returned with a plate of pancakes drizzled in maple syrup with bacon placed on top: it looked picturesque.

"Thank you." Ryan remembered the manners his mom had taught him many years ago before shoving far too much into his mouth, closing his eyes as he savoured his first mouthful. Before he could ask the woman about places of interest that may attract mob guys or murderers (or both) the bell on the door rang, meaning another customer had walked in. Ryan didn't turn around to meet them, instead taking another sip of his coffee.

The customer sat two seats away from him, the waitress smiling at him the same way she had at Ryan. "Hiya hon, the usual?"

"Yes please." The man spoke in a quiet but kind voice, although his accent stuck out to Ryan. It wasn't that it was a strong accent, quite the opposite actually. It certainly wasn't from around here. "Thank you."

The waitress disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving the two men in silence. Ryan took another sip of his coffee as the man tried to start up a conversation. "Pancakes? Now that's in poor taste. It's waffles all the way." Ryan almost spit out his coffee - not at the comment but at the man's appearance.

This was the guy from the photo: this was 'Legs'.

"You alright? Don't choke." He laughed at Ryan, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as he did. Ryan had to fight every instinct not to bolt out of the diner there and then. Here he was, trying to enjoy his breakfast and now all of a sudden he was having a conversation with a murderer... well, he would have to respond in order to have a conversation.

"Uh..." Ryan struggled to find the words to say. "Pancakes are way better." He settled on, 'Legs' shaking his head and turning back to the waitress as she brought him a plate of waffles before disappearing back into the kitchen. "Is that how you like to talk to strangers?"

"Oh, sorry..." He seemed to become shy all of a sudden as he realised his conversation starter had been a bit rude. "You don't sound like you're from around here. You here on business?" It was a fair question to someone who was dressed in a suit although Ryan could feel beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck. Did he know? Could this guy sniff out someone in the mob at a glance? He was a professional from what Ryan had heard, for all he knew the guy had spotted the plane landing and followed him there, planning to kill him behind the diner.

"Yeah... something like that." Ryan cleared his throat and steadied his hands on his coffee cup. They had begun to shake, betraying him when he needed to remain calm.

'Legs' hummed a response and begun digging into his waffles. Ryan needed to think quick. He needed a reason to keep him around, not let him out of his sight. The hotel key Father Thomas had given him felt like it was burning into his leg like a beating heart under the floorboards, reminding him of all his troubles. He was starting to panic already. He really wasn't cut out for this despite his efforts to try and convince himself otherwise. "Hey, don't mean to sound rude but are you alright? You don't look well all of a sudden."

"I'm fine." Ryan's voice shook. Shit. He couldn't afford a panic attack. "I just need some air." Ryan stood from his seat and rushed out the door, his knees feeling like jelly. He took in a few deep breaths as he leaned against the wall, hoping he was just far enough outside that 'Legs' couldn't see him. Fuck. If Ryan couldn't even sit next to the guy and have breakfast and a friendly chat how the hell was he supposed to lure the guy to some abandoned hotel and murder him in cold blood?

"You want me to ask the waitress for some water or something?" 'Legs' poked his head around the door, "You gonna hurl, dude?" 'Oh great', Ryan thought begrudgingly: 'of course he's a nice guy'. No, no he isn't, Ryan had to remind himself. This guy has killed people.

"I'm okay." Ryan kept lying to himself, lowering himself so he was crouching down, his back against the wall. 'Legs' crouched down next to him, his hand on his back to try and comfort him.

"Just breathe, yeah? You're alright." 'Legs' seemed to recognise the signs of an oncoming panic attack. "What's your name? Have you got someone I can call?" 'Stop being so fucking nice', Ryan internally groaned. He shook his head, closing his eyes and just focusing on his breathing. "Okay, I'll stay here with you. Talk you out of it... uh, well shit I can't think of anything to say." He chuckled in such a nonchalant way that made Ryan want to punch the guy.

"Pancakes are better." Ryan managed to mutter in between breaths, deciding to just say anything to change the subject and take his mind off his paranoia. 'Legs' wheezed at that, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You believe what you wanna believe, man." He adjusted his position so that he was sat down properly, legs crossed in front of him. "You're wrong, but hey, opinions and all that baloney."

Once Ryan felt like he was going to be okay, that he wasn't going to have a complete breakdown in front of his future murder victim he looked up to the sky, still avoiding looking at 'Legs'. "My name's Ricky by the way... Ricky Goldsworth." Ryan needed to try and make acquaintances with him while he could; it would hopefully make the upcoming murderous meet and greets less awkward.

"Goldsworth?" He seemed intrigued by that. "Cool name." Ryan was glad he hadn't just seen straight through him immediately. "Nice to meet you Ricky." He held out his hand to shake, Ryan took it and tried to keep his grip firm despite his hands still shaking. He also had to play it off like he hadn't noticed that 'Legs' had completely avoided telling him his name.

"Your breakfast is gonna go cold." Ryan told him to try and change the subject. "Mine too... let's go back inside."

"You alright to stand? You looked a bit wobbly on your feet just now." Ryan was tempted to just put a bullet in the guys head there and then and get his suffering over with. Of course he ended up with the crazed murderer who just happened to be a total sweetheart.

"I'm fine. Come on." Ryan pushed himself up and lead 'Legs' back inside, the two taking the seats they were previously in. Ryan's coffee was still pretty warm and his pancakes hadn't quite turned to soggy mush yet.

"Sorry if I said something to set you off, by the way. I didn't mean to freak you out." 'Legs' spoke in a hushed voice, as though he was trying not to induce more panic into Ryan.

"It's alright... it's been a long night. I'm just on edge I guess." Ryan took a bite of his breakfast, he wasn't that hungry anymore but he also knew he would regret it later if he didn't finish it. "It's not your fault." Ryan took another sip of coffee to wash it down.

"Well, I don't know if you're free sometime soon but there's a nice bar in town, I was planning on going out tonight if you wanted to join me." That was the second time 'Legs' had made him choke on his coffee. He hadn't expected to be asked out by the guy he was supposed to kill. "Uh, well, you don't have to if you don't want to!" He quickly gave Ryan the option to turn him down, his cheeks bright red and he couldn't meet his eyes.

This was perfect. 'Legs' had practically signed his own death warrant... granted that Ryan could actually pull the job off. Everything had fallen into place however, he would be an idiot to turn it down.

"That sounds... that sounds great actually." Ryan tried not to sound so relieved that he didn't have to make up some bullshit excuse to stalk this guy without it being weird.

"Really?" God, Ryan felt like such an asshole. He wasn't stupid, he knew what was happening. 'Legs' was showing interest, he was inviting him out and was shy when he asked the question. Now 'Legs' was feeling immense relief that Ryan had offered to spend the night getting to know him. He was leading him on and wouldn't even get the chance to let him down gently. "Shit, I didn't actually expect you to say yes! I mean, on my part even I can say this is bad timing!" He was giddy like a child, not helping the sinking feeling in Ryan's stomach.

"I'm always up for a good time." Ryan played along to the best of his ability. This guy was digging his own grave without Ryan even having to try, he didn't want to let the opportunity go to waste. "I've got to... there's this hotel I'm looking after at the moment. It's gonna be refurbished and I've got this job to basically check in and make sure none of the shit gets stolen. I can meet you after work if you want?"

"You're looking after a hotel? You're not gonna go all Jack Torrance on me and come after me with an axe, are you?" Even if it was a great movie he was referencing Ryan couldn't help but nervously chuckle at the irony.

"Wouldn't dream of it." 'Just drink your coffee and don't make eye contact Ryan', he thought to himself in desperation. He picked up his napkin and took a pen out of his blazer pocket. He'd childishly put it there in case he needed to go all spy-movie-action-scene and use the pen as a weapon, but he supposed using it for it's intended purpose would do for now. "Here's the address." Ryan had memorised it off by heart after fretting over his plans the night before. "Meet me about seven-ish?"

"Seven-ish." 'Legs' spoke aloud his mental note as he took the napkin and glanced at the address. "This isn't that far from the bar actually." That was lucky for Ryan, he wouldn't have to bring 'Legs' half way across the city just to kill him.

Ryan's plan was pretty simple, if not slightly manipulative - though he decided that if he was plotting to kill someone he would have to put his morals on the back bench for the time being. He would go out for a few drinks with 'Legs', get him to loosen up, bring him back to the hotel, lock the door so no one would accidentally wander in on his murder scene and then take care of him in the basement. One flaw he found with his plan was that he realised he still hadn't been told a name for his victim, not a nickname or initials: nothing. Ryan was starting to wonder if he was the one manipulating the situation, that he was the one in control... he had a feeling 'Legs' had his own ulterior motives behind inviting him out.

By the time seven rolled around Ryan almost felt sick with nerves. After preparing everything he needed in the hotel he was sat on the steps at the front door, staring at his blank phone screen in front of him to seem less conspicuous when he heard a call for his name - well, the name he had given out as a cover.

"Ricky?" Ryan looked up and smiled at the man before him. 'Legs' had changed out of the striped hoodie and jeans he wore that morning, he was wearing a dark blue shirt with red Hawaiian flowers on it which caught Ryan's attention. He'd never actually seen someone pull off a flower shirt like that and not look like a dad on vacation.

"Hey." Ryan stood up and climbed down the stairs, feeling slightly intimidated by the guy. He found it strange that he was wary of a paper thin guy in a flower shirt, but when put into the context that said guy towered over him in height he found himself feeling strangely inferior - that and he was a fucking murderer, Ryan had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

With a nervous breath 'Legs' gave a smile, "Shall we get going? The bar's down this way." Ryan smiled and nodded, following the taller man down the street

'Time to act your heart out' Ryan thought to himself, 'Play it cool, don't be suspicious'.

The bar was starting to fill with patrons though it didn't seem to be as busy as some of the others, Ryan was glad of that. The less people that saw him there the better. 'Legs' took the gentlemanly approach and offered to buy the first round, Ryan watching closely to make sure his drink hadn't been spiked before taking his first sip.

It had been a while since Ryan had been out like this, he had missed it if he was honest. The last time he was out drinking he... Ryan shook away the thought with a frown. He wouldn't think about that tonight, not now that he was about to cause someone else to find their family member brutally murdered.

'Legs' had noticed Ryan's frown and looked nervous, as though he was calculating the right thing to say. This night must have been important to him, he was trying so hard not to mess it up. Ryan felt immense guilt but knew he couldn't wallow in it all night. He needed the night to go well too, given that he needed to get him back to the hotel. He hoped it would be willing and not Ryan dragging him back kicking and screaming.

"Thanks for coming out tonight." 'Legs' started, talking over the music with his best efforts. "I mean, I really thought you were gonna turn me down."

"I needed something like this, I should be the one thanking you." Ryan wished he meant that, he wished he was just out on what felt like a date - it probably would have been considered one in Ryan's mind but 'Legs' still had neglected to give him a name. It was a sobering reminder that the man in front of him could very well have his own plans of murder. His nice guy act was so cliché anyway, serial killers were always known like that. It was the whole Norman Bates schtick, the type of guy who wouldn't hurt a fly, socially awkward yet charming. Ryan hoped he wouldn't get stabbed to death by this guy dressed as his mother later on, though it would certainly be an unexpected twist to his evening.

"Is it a tough life, looking after hotels I mean?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink, "Must get pretty lonely having all those rooms to yourself."

"Yeah... it can be." Ryan was used to loneliness, it was just part of his daily life by this point. He supposed if the whole hotel business was his real job he wouldn't think it any different to how he felt when he was sat at home on a Friday night watching movies all on his own rather than reuniting with his college friends and going out to get completely shitfaced. "What do you do, I don't think I asked?" Ryan hoped that question wouldn't scare him off.

"I, uh... I'm actually unemployed at the moment." He was avoiding eye contact again, Ryan knew he was lying anyway. "I'm here on a sort of midlife crisis, trying to see if I can make it on my own sorta thing... it's not going well." He laughed it off and took another, longer sip of his drink.

"You're on your own out here?" Interesting, that meant there would be no one around to search for him if he suddenly went missing. Ryan had interpreted him saying he was unemployed as he wasn't out on a job for the mob in New Orleans. He was just as alone out here as Ryan was. This whole situation just seemed so perfect, though he was wary of how careless it was on 'Legs' part.

"Yeah." Was his only response.

"You must be pretty lonely too then." Ryan didn't like to empathise with a killer, though he knew in just a few short hours he would be one himself. "Guess we can be lonely together." Ryan raised his glass, 'Legs' picking his own up and tapping it on Ryan's, the sound of the clink breaking through the music with ease.

Ryan had anticipated the night to go poorly. He had assumed he would be too nervous to drink or talk for half the night or perhaps for his date to figure out his true identity through some offhanded comment and ditch him or put a bullet between his eyes. What he hadn't expected however was to actually have a good time with him.

The two of them seemed to get along just fine, conversing in topics such as old shitty horror movies that were just charming enough to be enjoyable - or the ones that had practical effects so terrible they were actually hilarious to watch. 'Legs' had listened to Ryan ramble on about how much he loved Disneyland and hadn't been in years, in return Ryan tried his best to pay attention to some anecdotes 'Legs' had from an old D&D game he had played with his friends back in his hometown.

As the number of drinks piled up Ryan actually started to let his guard down, relaxing in his seat and laughing along at the dumb jokes 'Legs' cracked every other minute. He had to hand it to the guy: he was pretty funny. With his guard down he hadn't quite expected 'Legs' to smoothly place his hand over Ryan's as he was fidgeting with his glass, nor had he expected himself not to pull away quickly.

This was his chance.

"Hey... how about we drink up and get out of here, yeah?" Ryan suggested, 'Legs' quirking an eyebrow at him and downing the rest of his drink. "We can go back to the hotel I'm looking after, it's completely empty. It'll be just you and me."

"Lead the way."

The two of them headed out of the bar and into the cool night air, Ryan holding his hand and pulling him along through the crowd as to not lose him. The streets were bustling with the city's nightlife, the people passing them were either already drunk and loud or on their way to join in. Ryan really had missed this, the buzz of it all, but that wasn't what he was here to do, as much as he was hoping that maybe he could spend a couple nights with this guy, go out partying and make stupid decisions together. At the same time however, the last thing Ryan wanted to do was form an attachment; he was already getting dangerously close to that.

"Here we are." Ryan struggled to fit the key into the front door ten minutes later, mentally cursing to his past self for having one round too many. He hated that he'd actually had a good time with 'Legs' tonight. He hated how now it was over, now was the time where 'Legs' whole life was over. The price Ryan was paying to have protection didn't seem worth it all of a sudden, but he'd come this far... giving up now wouldn't sit right with him.

"Give me a room with a view, Goldsworth." 'Legs' put his hand on Ryan's hip, leaning into him and breathing against the back of his ear. It sent shivers down his spine. It took all he had not to throw his plans out the window and lead him to one of the rooms upstairs.

"Got a better idea." Ryan turned around to him. "You said you didn't want me to for obvious reasons... but what if I did go all 'Jack Torrance'? What I'm trying to say is I bet the basement is romantic as fuck." 'Legs' burst out laugh at that, his head dipping and eyes crinkling into thin lines as they had done many times that night.

"You know what? You've won me over." He let Ryan take him by the hand and guide him towards the heavy metal door that lead down a flight of stairs to a mostly empty room, just a boiler and some electronics that Ryan had no idea the purpose for - probably a fuse box or something. The only light in the room was a simple bulb hanging from a chord on the ceiling, fitting for a room that was soon to house a murder.

The second the door was closed behind 'Legs' Ryan struck out, grabbing the pole he had set out earlier when he was rehearsing this moment over and over again like some crazed fanatic and striking the taller man on the side of the head. It knocked him out in an instant, 'Legs' dropping like a sack of bricks and tumbling down the stairs. Ryan winced, it looked like it hurt. 'Forget your fucking morals, man, you're trying to kill him'. Ryan stared down at his unmoving body from atop the stairs, his breathing heavy in his chest. It was terrifying to him just how easy that was, how simple it had all been. This poor guy was just looking to have a good time and now he was getting murdered for it.

Acting quickly, just in case 'Legs' woke up half way through, Ryan rushed down the stairs and grabbed the chair and the rope had set aside, hauling up the man's deadweight and tying him to the chair. He inspected the wound on his head, blood pooling around the edges but not gushing down like he had imagined it would in his rehearsals.

"Okay... okay, right... what now?" Ryan frantically looked around the room as if looking for clues. "Oh, gun, right." Ryan took the gun he had concealed under the boiler, dusting it off and checking to see if it was loaded. "Right... now wait for him to wake up I guess."

Ryan took the spare chair he had previously placed in the basement just in case things escalated and he had to knock him out with a chair instead of the pole, lucky the craftwork had stayed in one piece. He sat opposite 'legs', hunching over slightly and looking at the gun in his hand. It rattled slightly as his hand shook, looking out of place in his grip. Ryan knew this wasn't right, he knew deep down that this was only going to make his life worse but he was in far too deep now for retrospective analysis.

"Stop shaking." He whispered to himself, using his free hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He was panicking again. "Fuck..." He couldn't help but think about the last time he was panicking, crouched down outside the diner this morning. 'Legs' had been there for him then, a comforting presence that had managed to calm him down despite being the reason he was panicking in the first place. He felt like he needed that now.

As if on cue 'Legs' stirred, a faint groan escaping his lips as he struggled to find consciousness. He tilted his head up slowly with a wince, eyes squinting as he looked directly at Ryan. "Huh?" He struggled against the ropes he was tied to, looking at them in confusion as if he couldn't understand why he was now tied up. He seemed to wake up a little more after his brain tried to piece together what was going on, the tall man looking around with a pained expression before his eyes settled back on Ryan.

"Hey sleepyhead." Ryan stood up, putting his acting chops to best use. 'Whatever you say just make it intimidating' he repeated in his head like a mantra. "Have a nice nap?"

"Ricky?" 'Legs' sounded woozy, "What's going on... is this a kink thing or something? I'm not one to judge or anything but some consent would have been nice."

"Wha-" Ryan was baffled by the stupidity that had just come from this guy's mouth. A kink thing? This guy was a well known member of the mob who'd just been knocked out and tied to a chair in a basement like some sort of thriller movie cliché... and then he thought it was just that Ryan had a fucking kink? Not quite what Ryan had been expecting. "No, you idiot! I'm here to kill you!"

"Oh?" 'Legs' seemed to think that over for a minute before the somewhat humoured smile that had previously been on his face was wiped completely. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'." Ryan mimicked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought this was going to be a lot harder but you just walked right into this... you didn't even question me wanting to take you into the basement! Are you really that dense?"

"In my defence you hit me on the head pretty fuckin' hard." He groaned, almost as if he was trying to get sympathy. Ryan wouldn't take the bait, even if he did sort of feel guilty about it.

"That was after I lured you all the way out here!" Ryan's voice rose in both volume and pitch, holding the gun out and aiming it at 'Legs' head. "I thought mob guys were supposed to be fuckin' smart!"

"Mob guys?" Everything slowly clicked into place for him, he looked almost disappointed, but what he was disappointed about Ryan wasn't so sure. Maybe in himself for being so naïve or perhaps in Ryan for leading him on the way he did to turn out to just be another in a long line of guys that had come after him. "Right, so you're here to kill me then?"

"Yeah, I said that already." Ryan was trying his very best to be patient and take into account the guy had only just woken up after he bashed him round the head with a metal pole. "You're a ballsy guy, I'll give you that. I mean, just going out and partying in New Orleans knowing the Californian mob is after you? I can't tell if it's bold or insane!"

"Well I'm not in California right now, am I? I didn't think they'd be dumb enough to come around here with how high the tensions are between them and the gangs here in Orleans." So he did have a bit of common sense, even if his logic had been flawed. "That and I wasn't expecting the good looking guy in the diner to be some fucking mafia hitman or whatever."

"You think I'm good looking- wait, no. You're not going to flirt your way out of this!" Ryan jabbed the gun in his direction as if to threaten him into shutting up but 'Legs' didn't seem all that phased that his life was in danger. 'Definitely insane' Ryan thought to himself as he glared down at him. Who the hell stays so calm in a situation like this? This guy really is Norman Bates reincarnate. "And I'm not a hitman, I'm part of the Cali mob!"

"You are, are you?" 'Legs' seemed sceptical. "You don't look the part. I mean, you're way too short for one and that tough guy act is fooling no one."

"Man, fuck you! Just because you're as tall as a fucking sasquatch doesn't mean I'm short! Oh my god I cannot believe I was actually considering throwing everything I worked for away and just fucking you instead!" Ryan was aware he was trying to rile him up on purpose, but god dammit it was working like a charm. "Are you forgetting I'm holding a fucking gun here? I'm going to kill you! You should be begging for your life right now!"

"Oh, no, please don't kill me Mr Goldsworth." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Although, I mean, if you untie me I could pretend none of this even happened and we could just go upstairs and, y'know." He gave a conspicuous whistle rather than being as blunt as Ryan had been.

"You're insufferable." Ryan couldn't believe this was the same guy he went drinking with, the same guy he was starting to regret luring to the edge of town to kill. He was filled with enough aggression and adrenaline not to feel that regret anymore, but he still couldn't help noticing that his hand still shook slightly as he pointed the gun in 'Legs' face.

"I always thought you mobsters were supposed to be tough guys. You're shaking like a leaf." 'Legs' pointed out which only infuriated Ryan even more. "You really should work on controlling your emotions more, just shut 'em off, y'know?"

"Stop giving me fucking criticism!" Ryan growled, his fist balled at his side before he used it to steady his shaking hand. "I'm literally about to shoot you!"

"Well hurry up with it then, you're starting to look like some incompetent movie villain!" 'Legs' almost sounded bored, impatient even. Ryan figured the guy must be on some next level of crazy if he was practically begging the guy holding a gun to shoot him.

"Don't rush me!" Ryan clicked the safety off on his gun and held it against 'Legs' forehead, the taller man closed his mouth very quickly and his eyes opened wider. Ryan couldn't help but smirk at how quickly he turned his act around.

"Uh, Ricky?" 'Legs' sounded worried all of a sudden, a complete juxtaposition from how he was mere seconds ago.

"Oh, now you're afraid. Didn't take much for that tough guy act to fall through, did it?" Ryan felt proud in a way, proud that he'd actually succeeded in intimidating the guy. Maybe he had it in him after all? Maybe this whole time he had just been overreacting, overthinking. He had the guts to do this, all he had to do now was pull the trigger (after saying something badass like they did in the movies, of course) and it would be over.

"Ricky!" 'Legs' called out, an unmistakeable fear in his tone. "Look out, behind you!"

"Yeah, how stupid do you think I am?" Ryan scoffed, though his tune soon changed when he heard the sound of metal scraping along the floor behind him, something he imagined 'Legs' had heard before Ryan knocked him out earlier. He gasped, eyes widening as he remembered he forgot one crucial step in his plan: he forgot to lock the front door.

Before Ryan could even turn around and defend himself he felt something connect with his temple and the world turned to black in a terrifyingly quick instant.

So much for everything being too easy...

#shyan #mafia au #my work #enemies to lovers #kinda not at first but it gets there i promsie #also this is only the first chapter and its literally 7663 words long im so sorry #slow burn #they start off cute and then ryan does an oopsie #skeptic believer

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