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arthurmorgansleftlung · 3 years

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Secret Cupid 2021 (Part 2)

This @rdr-secret-cupid is for @outlawsworld ! I’m so sorry about it being a little late. I really hope that you like this, I really tried to incorporate horses and your appearance the best that I could without being overbearing.

Sorry about any formatting issues, I’m on mobile!

Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day!

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The Way He Touched You

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 2,350

Warnings: None really, but there is briefly some hostile words and behaviors aimed at the reader.

You were a successful seductress and thief. You were making hundreds, sometimes thousands of money from tempting big burly oafs. They always figured you were no threat, with your small stature and physique. And don’t forget about your oh-so-charming Southern Belle act! These men were fools, and you played them like a fiddle.

Your mistake was staying in the same town and seducing every man who lived there. You no longer had an audience. No bites. No money. Until one day, when a new man rode into town on the finest horse you’d ever seen. He was loaded. But he was big, and strong.

You seduced the man, tricking him into buying you two a night at the nicest hotel around. Once you made your way into the room, however, that’s where things went wrong.

You’d gotten to the point in your routine where you would normally incapacitate your victim. Normally you would find an object close by, like a candle stick or a boot that had been kicked off. Well, when you smashed a glass dish over the man’s head, he did not pass out. Rather, he started bleeding profusely and screaming at you. You bolted out of the hotel, bursting through the door and jumping on the first horse you saw: his.

With a quick kick to the sides the Arabian horse went into a full gallop, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground mixed in with the angry yells of the man you just failed to rob.

Pretty soon, the law and the townspeople were on you. But your stolen horse was faster than them. Eventually it seemed that they had given up. You couldn’t hear or see anything. You slowed the horse and dismounted, giving it a nice pat and an apple (which was also stolen).

You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up to the sound of thundering hooves and angry men the sky was a different shade of blue. Luckily the horse you’d stolen, who you now recognized was a girl, was still nearby, grazing on the overgrown grass. Unfortunately, she was not a very camouflaged horse. She was the brightest shade of white with a pink nose and blue eyes. The mob found you easily.

You ran and mounted the mare, kicking her to make her go. The horse bolted, and you made decent ground, but the howling of nearby wolves spooked her and she threw you off.

“Fuck!“ You were panicking. You had no other means of escaping. Horse theft was punishable by hanging. Is this how you would go? Suddenly a horse skidded and stopped beside you.

“Those friends of yours?” The man asked.

“No! Can you get me outta here?” You were on the verge of crying. You didn’t want to die.

“I can try! Hop on up here, miss.” You hoped you could trust this man. With a prayer you hopped onto the back of the man’s horse, and after grabbing hold of his shirt you were off. His horse galloped faster than the Arabian had for you, perhaps he was a kind and tender man with his horse.

The man, whose name you had learned was Arthur, took you into a concealed part of the wilderness. You were scared of where he was bringing you, but more scared of what would happen if you jumped off. You saw the dim light of a campfire, the sound of people talking, horses snorting back and forth as they noticed a stranger approaching.

You found yourself in a camp full of people. Arthur lead you over to a tent, where a man with jet black hair and a mustache greeted you. You told him your story, and he laughed and recommended you become friends with a girl named Karen. Apparently she was in a similar “business” as you.

That was almost a full year ago now.

Now you were a dutiful helper around camp. You of course did the regular chores that Ms. Grimshaw assigned you, but you had also become the caretaker of the gang’s horses.

Except Arthur’s. He insisted on taking care of his mare. The one time he had found you taking care of his horse he didn’t talk to you the rest of the day! You found it strange but you respected his wishes.

Currently you were grooming Taima, Charles’ Appaloosa mare. You were running a brush through her black and white fur, giving her encouraging words as you went on. You had finished your other chores: washing and drying clothes, washing bowls for the evening stew; the same old routine. A calm breeze drifted through the camp, causing leaves to flap around and Taima’s man to flow, ever so slightly.

You noticed the sound of hooves alongside the rustling of the flora around you. Arthur was riding in. He had been gone a couple of days on a hit. His horse looked exhausted, covered in sweat and mud.

“Hey, Arthur.” You greeted him. He tipped his hat towards you. He hitched his horse and walked towards you.

“Would you mind givin’ my old girl a brush?”

“I thought you didn’t like me tendin’ to your horse.” He sensed the slight attitude in your voice, you’d been holding a slight, although stupid, grudge since Arthur went silent on you.

“Please, (Y/N), she’s filthy. I can’t tend to ‘er right now...” Arthur headed off to Dutch’s tent, followed by the closing of the flaps. You gave Taima a once over; she looked shiny and clean. You headed over to Arthur’s mare, who nickered in response to you patting her hindquarters.

You gently brushed her, caked mud falling off with ease. She would need a real bath to return to her solid black color. You cleaned her as best as you could. Although her white socks were still a beige color, she looked pristine everywhere else.

Arthur soon returned, letting out a low whistle at the sight of his horse. Of course he didn’t like that he didn’t do it himself, but he praised you on your grooming work.

“You wanna go for a ride, (Y/N)?”

“Why?” You eyed him suspiciously.

“Do you wanna go for a ride or not?”

Without another word you got up on Arthur’s horse and wrapped your arms under his, your hands resting on his shoulders. The mare trotted into the woods, and once you all reached the main road you took off towards Valentine.

When you arrived, Arthur hitched his horse up outside of the stable. Was he buying treats? You followed him inside the stable, where he was greeted by the owner who was eyeing you suspiciously.

“Whatcha think about that one?” Arthur pointed towards a palomino American Standardbred.

“That’s a fine horse,” you said quietly. You didn’t have the money for such a creature, which you voiced with Arthur.

“‘Scuse me sir, I’d like to purchase this horse for my wife!” Arthur gestured towards the golden horse. Wife? Wife? Your face flushed red with anxiety and embarrassment. Arthur paid for the horse, your horse. He got you basic tack as well, and made sure you were good to ride. You didn’t know what to say.

You began to leave the stable, but the owner called after you.

“Wait! Here’s a brush and some treats... for... you...” A realization had been made. “Why— sir! That ain’t your wife! That’s the whore that stole all the men’s money in this town!”

“Don’t you call my wife no such thing.” Arthur warned the man, his hand gripping

his holster. You were flabbergasted, both at Arthur’s new title for you and that you had been caught... again.

The man grabbed at the skirt of your dress, trying to pull you off of your horse. You kicked at him, “Stop it!” You hissed at him, glaring him down. You weren’t scary at all, but perhaps Arthur’s presence gave you a leg up in intimidation. He grabbed at you again, his dirty hand gripping your thigh through the fabric. Without hesitation Arthur drew his pistol and shot the man, blood splatter making its impression on your dress and skin. Now you were certain your dress was soiled.

“Let’s go.” Arthur grumbled. Arthur called for his horse and mounted up. You both calmly left the stable, but you felt like you were burning alive with all of the eyes on you two. You could hear a familiar voice, the sheriff. As soon as you and Arthur had made it close to the outskirts, you bolted. You made a detour and headed towards Emerald Ranch, to avoid giving directions to camp if somebody followed you.

The sheriff and his deputies followed you, but gave up easily. Your horse was kind to you, and easy to handle. But he began to spook. You held on tightly to the reins, causing the horse even more irritation.

“Let loose on the reins, keep your ass in the saddle!” Arthur guided you. You already knew this, but you tried your best to follow his directions. Your horse did calm down after a moment, snorting at you after the ordeal. Arthur smiled smugly at you.

“So I’m your wife now, huh?” You teased Arthur, who was flushed a crimson red. He hadn’t really thought about that.

“In Valentine you are.”

If only he knew how you felt about it. You didn’t push it. You thanked Arthur for your horse, who you’d decided to call Flavian, after his golden appearance. Arthur thought the name was weird, but didn’t question it. The two of you rode off towards camp, traveling through the oil fields to get back. It was a long ride, but a safe one. The hot sun burned your skin, turning you pink. You didn’t think you’d be in the sun for so long, you hadn’t really prepared.

In a daze, you felt something hit your chest. Arthur’s hat. You looked at him, his head already facing forward.

“You’re turnin’ red. Just wear it for now.” You put on the hat, the scent of him forcing its way into your nose and causing a familiar heat to rush to your face. You reached the wooded surroundings of the camp, just as the sun began to set.

After you’d arrived Arthur grabbed a bowl of Pearson’s stew and retreated to his tent. You grabbed a bowl as well and followed Arthur, you needed to give his hat back. When you got close enough, Arthur was sitting and holding his head in his hands, frustrated.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, Miss (Y/N)?” He seemed startled.

“Your hat...” You pulled the hat off of your head, reaching it out for him to take. He looked up at you, beet red. He reached for the hat and gently took it from your hand. “Are you okay...?” You stepped closer, into his tent. He seemed a bit concerned about this, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I’m fine, Miss (Y/N). Just tired. Confused.”

“Confused about what, Arthur?”

“You.”

“Well, what about me?” You kind of laughed, trying to conceal any nervousness in your voice.

“Well, I— It’s not important, (Y/N).”

You silently took a deep breath. You stepped closer to Arthur and sat down beside him on his cot. He recoiled a bit. Ouch.

“What, Arthur?” You were hurt at how repulsed he seemed to be by your presence. Sure, he bought you a horse, but probably because Dutch or Hosea told him to.

“The way that man touched you today. I didn’t like it.” He mumbled. He knew of your past, how you used to tempt men. What did Arthur mean?

The thought of you ever being touched by somebody filled Arthur with a quiet anger. He was jealous today. Jealous and protective and possessive. Over a woman that wasn’t his to begin with. He had been for months, and it worried him.

“I didn’t like him touchin’ you. I don’t like... I don’t like anybody touchin’ you!”

“Arthur.” You brought your small frame closer to him. This time he didn’t recoil. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes avoiding you. You brought a gentle hand to his forearm, his bright turquoise eyes met your green ones. “Arthur I’m in love with you... how could you not tell? Ever since you saved me...”

“You can’t be in love with me...” Arthur laughed with a hint of sadness. He turned to face you, your knees touching. He brought a calloused hand to your cheek, looking like he wanted so desperately to kiss you, but pulled himself away. He seemed ashamed.

“But I am. I am in love with you, Arthur Morgan.” You looked down at the ground, fearful of what he might respond with.

How could you be so vulnerable? How could you just tell him you’ve been in love with him for a year? What now? Were you going to tell him how every time he left on a mission that you’d be so sick to your stomach with worry that you were scared you’d vomit? How you felt a twinge of jealousy and then guilt when he interacted with any of the girls? How every time you saw him you’d try to take a picture in your mind, just in case?

Tears pricked at your eyes. Oh, great, you were crying now. Arthur lifted your head back up and wiped his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears away. He smiled softly at you.

“We can talk about this later, (Y/N)... I can’t stand seein’ you cry.”

You latched onto Arthur, in the tightest hug you could manage. He brought his big arms around you, careful not to squeeze too tight.

You don’t remember much of anything after. Arthur had been right, you were both exhausted from the heat today.

The next morning you woke up, still encased in Arthur’s arms. It was still early, nobody else had woken up but you were sure somebody had seen the two of you. Arthur also seemed to be awake, and ran his fingers through your hair.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr secret cupid 2021 #mine

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

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Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 10: Territorial

Chapters: 10/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters: Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags: A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses, Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: You learn the reality of not being alone in the universe

You hunkered down in your soft, fold-out futon couch, shaken by what you now knew.

They were invaders. Loki, Thor, all the Asgardians, an invading force.

But they weren't invading this planet.

You didn't think you'd ever forget the blazing triumph in Loki's eyes, as he explained the plan. He might as well explain it to you. There was nothing you could do about it. There was nothing you would do about it. And Loki knew it.

Rain slammed into the glass like stones, flung by screaming wind. It had been pouring all day, even before you'd served Loki his breakfast.

“Did someone piss off your brother or what?” you joked. Loki swiftly grasped your hand before you could crush his pill for the morning.

“Yes, and I would have my mind clear when he comes to visit. I will bear the pain until afterwards.”

Thunder cracked the personable atmosphere of breakfast.

“You should retire to your rooms for a while.” Loki said. So you gathered up what was left of your meal and returned to your apartment. You had a nice little table in front of a window, where you sat with your orange juice and pancakes, watching the sheeting rain.

The sound of the Bifrost roared down louder than the rain. Thor had come by to discuss things with Loki several times now, you hiding out in your room each time. You weren't sure why you were never allowed to be seen-perhaps servants in Asgard were supposed to be invisible or something. Or perhaps Loki wasn't actually supposed to have you. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time you were living somewhere illegally.

The two of them talked very loudly, almost shouting, but it didn't sound like a fight. It sounded more like enthusiasm, rising and falling, the foreign words and unfamiliar cadence. Thor stayed for several hours, keeping up their lively discussion, but you didn't once hear either of them laugh. Whatever their enthusiasm was about, it probably wasn't a cheerful thing.

You relaxed in your apartment, reading a battered old book while they hashed out whatever they were working on, making yourself a light lunch while the rain weakened and petered out. The Bifrost roared again, just as the sun struggled out of the clouds.

Not long after, you heard Loki calling for you, always as if he were right beside you. He was waiting at the table when you exited back out into his miniature kingdom, eyes bright with the exercise of thought. He waited patiently while you prepared fresh tea for him, and mixed it with his medicine, drinking it without complaint. Thor's Alpha scent hung around the place, somehow harsher than Loki's. You were tempted to dampen it with a scented spray, but you knew Loki didn't like them. 'Stinking, chemical concoctions' he called them.

You did chores around the penthouse, as he went over the contents of a notebook. You knew his medicine was taking effect when he suddenly started talking.

“How do you feel about this building?” he asked abruptly, shoving the notebook at you.

“How do I feel about it? Uh, well, let me see.” You took the notebook, full of runes and sketches. The sketch of the house Loki indicated appeared to you like a man-made hill, a cluster of little domes around a large dome, with no windows but several doors. It had a vintage science fiction kind of look, as if someone had designed a Hobbit hole for the far future.

“It's cute.” you said. “Looks like some kind of earth house?”

“Not quite.” he said, smug amusement coloring his voice. “Would you live in such a house?”

“Sure, I'd live in any kind of house. A house is a house, and I'm never gonna be picky about that. I do wonder about the inside lighting, since there's no windows.” “Oh, it would be lit by magic. Magic light it so easy to make that many forms of magic create light as a by-product! It would be bright as day on the inside. There could be no windows, because the structure would be partially underground, and the outside walls would be about nine feet thick.”

“Wow. I knew earthworks need thick walls, but that seems like kind of a lot.”

“But would you still live in such a home?”

“Well yeah. Still a house, after all. Look, I know you're high as a kite right now, but this is about something, isn't it? Is it what Thor was here to talk about?” “Insolent thing. I'm not that high. Am I? No, of course not. But yes, this is about our meeting this morning. Twice has my brother come bearing distressing news about the future of Asgard, and this time, we began planning. These houses are a part of it.”

“Is something wrong with Asgard? Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“Oh yes, we will be fine. I foresaw something like this happening, and my brother's pride is sorely bruised, but our people are in no danger. You see, the government of Canada set aside some land for Asgard to settle upon-a handful of islands off the coast of the larger island of Nova Scotia. This seemed quite generous at first, and quite in line with the kindliness that country is famed for. I could have told Thor that it would prove somehow false. If not humanity itself, then the governing bodies of humanity certainly are the least trustworthy things in this whole great galaxy.”

“What did they do?” you asked. “Are they trying to bilk you? Make you pay for it all? Force you into debt?”

“No, no. They gave us the land so that the native peoples they stole it from could never get it back. Settler's laws, or some such.”

“That's awful!” The disillusionment led straight to disgust, and no small amount of disappointment. Because Canada did seem so nice, and maybe it was just a form of American wish fulfillment to believe that Canada was somehow 'better' than the States. But realistically, both countries had been formed in the same way: European settlers sweeping from one coast to the other. And the only way it seemed that they knew how to do that was to smash their way through whoever was between the Here, and the There.

“Indeed.” Loki sneered. “Thor is enraged at the sheer ingratitude. Many times he has been involved in the protection of your backwater globe, and these fools seek to use him as a pawn. I may occasionally want to stab his face off, but he is still a god, and we are all of us above the petty greed and power games that humans play against one another.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It's very simple. We are going to secure the land, build a legal cage so tight that it cannot be taken away, make it ours completely, and without question. Then, when we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will turn the land over to the people it was stolen from, and Asgard will leave. We will invite them to live among us in the interim, and likely leave a small garrison behind to guard against Canadian invasion.”

“Ha!” you burst out. “Good! Fuck those guys! But where is Asgard going to go then? I can't think of anyplace that isn't already full of people. Except maybe Antarctica? It'd be pretty hard to live there though.”

“Asgard has the technology to make practically any rock a paradise.” Loki bragged. “But we will not be moving to Antarctica, no. We will not remain on Earth. No, Earth had it's chance, and chose betrayal. We will be moving to the planet you call Mars.”

“What? Mars? Like Mars, Mars?” you sat, shocked, the notebook in your lap. “You can't just...”

Loki silenced you with a thin, smug smile.

“Whyever not?” he asked. “Who lives there? What lives there? Nothing, and no one. We would not be pushing anybody out of their homelands, nor posing a danger to any ecosystem. There is nothing there but remote controlled toys. No one has claim over it. I know there is at least one fool who fancies himself a genius, and has convinced many that he owns the place, but how is he going to get there? In one of his constantly exploding vehicles? No, Earth has no power over Mars, and soon it will be ours. We are the ones who can make it a livable land. Humans simply don't have the technology or experience. Can you harness Bifrost energy to get the core and mantle moving again, to create a magnetic field? You do not. Can you live safely on the surface for long enough to get anything done? You cannot. In fact, for humans to be safe on Mars, you would have to hide behind around nine feet of Martian soil.”

“Nine-like the house? That design is for a Mars house?”

“Clever thing. Yes, it is for a Mars house. Part of a community partially above and partially below ground, connected by buried roadways. A city adapted to the planets unique characteristics. We will alter the landscape, reignite the magnetic field, cleanse the soil of radiation, perhaps use that as a secondary energy source for a while. The planet is rich in water: this whole system is so rich in resources that it would absolutely be under attack at all times if more people knew about it.

But you have us now. We know how to render empty planets useful. Once we have made Mars into our new Asgard, we will turn our eyes to the great potential of the one you call Venus.”

“You're gonna take Venus too?” you exclaimed.

“Take? Again, who owns it? No one. There is no one to take it from. Imagine thinking that just because you see something, just because you name it, that somehow means you own it. No one lives there, and there are no habitats to destroy, so why does this offend you so?”

You couldn't really answer. Everything he had said was true. And yet, you still somehow felt a sort of proprietary nebulous collective ownership over the planetary system that was your species only home.

“Do you feel entitled to the asteroids as well? The comets? The moons and atmospheres of the giant planets? The very dust of the stellar cloud? Your species once shared this backwater world with multiple other human species, but now that you are the only ones left, you've forgotten how to share with anyone.”

“Is it sharing? You can travel around better than we can. Will there be anything left by the time we're able to travel like you?”

He chuckled, the condescension like a thick layer of butter over bread.

“Oh, I understand now. You're so used to the overarching greed and cruelty of your own people, that you can't imagine that we could be any different. We aren't going to lock you little humans away from Mars, or Venus, or any other place. Indeed, why do you think we've been studying how thick a wall is needed for human safety on Mars? It is all but certain that humans and Asgardians will live side by side throughout this star system. You will join us sooner or later. It is inevitable. The instant the perceived challenge is issued, your desiccated space programs will flare back to life. You humans are incredibly competitive, though in a different way than Asgardians. We are more individual, but you drift towards teams. It will be interesting to see how the competition plays out.”

“You're looking forward to this?” you asked.

“I am counting on it.” he said. “Now, do you think that house would be big enough for you? It will be roughly three times the size of your current apartment, and partially underground. Would that bother you? Would you need more space?”

The notebook slipped to the floor. “You can't mean...” you whispered.

“Give it some thought. It won't be for a while yet, but I'm pretty sure it will be within your lifetime. Would you like to be the first human on Mars? Beat that so-called genius to the red planet? See us kickstart the world?”

It was a fantastic dream. Impossible. Completely impossible. But could you? “I-I don't know...”

“Think on it. But for now, I think this medicine is making me weary. I am losing track of time and thought. Take me to the window, and sit with me there.”

You did, making yourself comfortable on your special cushion, as he rambled about Asgardian building techniques, methods of energy storage, and how to contain oxygen in their hypothetical underground cities while working on building a sustainable atmosphere. He talked about Mars as if it were no more than a challenge, explaining all the resources that made the planet such a likely candidate for the transformation process. How they could alter the thin atmosphere with Thor's power to create ozone, split molecules to create oxygen, how to decontaminate irradiated soil, and even enrich it with naturally occurring resources. You didn't understand much of it, but the gist was that they had done this before, and only lacked the resources to build the tools they needed. As soon as they had that, there were no limits. According to Loki, it could all be done very fast.

And he was very fixated on the idea of you coming with him, seemed to have a very romanticized view of the human drive to explore. In some ways, he wasn't wrong. The thought of being the first human to travel to the red planet, to walk on its surface, to live there-it was thrilling. It was a dream humankind had harbored for a long time.

On the other hand, as far as you understood, Mars was kind of a shithole.

Yes, Loki claimed that his people could change that, prattling on about groves, and grasslands, and even tropics. He was also high. He could just as easily be talking nonsense.

Atmosphere notwithstanding, Mars was farther from the sun than Earth was. Wouldn't it always be colder? You could envision, after a lot of work and change, the planet hosting the kinds of things that grew in Siberia maybe. Lichens and short, scrubby grasses, possibly even conifers. Maybe seaweed, in the great seas and lakes he described the icecaps filling up.

But delicate tropical flowers, and big, soft fruits, and plants that needed three hundred days of strong sun and sweltering temperatures to thrive? No way. Better to leave the jungles to Venus.

Which was apparently part of the plan. The thinning of the atmosphere of Venus, would contribute to the thickening of the atmosphere of Mars. It involved even more technobabble that you couldn't grasp, but Loki was very sure about the viability of transferring resources throughout the solar system. From atmosphere, to water, to metals, to trace elements, Asgardians apparently knew how to do it all. It almost made you believe it.

Loki babbled like a bird all through dinner and the evening, and you were almost glad to be sent off the warm his bed. Your brain was exhausted, but he was as energetic as ever.

Stripped of your uniform, you snuggled into his luxurious bed, still trying to resolve the image of Loki-lover of opulent baths, rich clothing, and indulgent bedding-with that of an excited, daring, and rough living pioneer. You drifted off to a daydream of him, in a pith helmet and beige jodhpurs, standing majestically in a jeep that kicked up the Martian dust behind it...

******

...And awoke to Loki sniffing your hair.

He was pressed all alongside you, snuggled up with an arm thrown over your waist. And he was sniffing your hair.

He must have noticed a change in your breathing or physical pliancy, because he withdrew his arm immediately.

“Ah.” he whispered. “The jig is up, as they say.”

You scooted quickly away from him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you demanded.

“Forgive me.” he said, yawning. “You just seemed so peaceful. I thought it a shame to wake you.”

“Did you turn off my alarm?”

He had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

“That...might have happened.”

“And there was nothing you could do but try to cop a feel?”

“I prefer to think of it as a friendly cuddle.”

“Well don't! Don't think you can just do whatever you want with me!”

“I shan't, I promise. As your master, I promise, I will not again overstep the bounds of our agreement. As my servant, I ask your trust.”

“...Maybe tomorrow.”

Face burning fiercely, you exited the bed, and hurried for the door. Your clothing was on the other side of the bed-the other side of Loki. In the dark, he might or might not getting a good look at your underwear clad rear, depending on how well Asgardians could see in the dark, so you booked it out of his room, across the hall, and into yours before he could say anything.

You threw yourself onto your futon, huddled down in your nice new blankets, and shivered. Your trust? He asked for your trust? He asked you to leave everything you knew, your whole world, to walk the distant sands of Mars? Something you couldn't even safely do until the planet had been transformed? He dared to lure you into a false sense of security in his sweet-smelling bed, and then ask for your trust? How much of your life were you willing to give?

#betathetaandme

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kippykasey · 3 years

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Snowdrop Chpt 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3503

Series Summary: Bringing Zemo in to help fight against the rise of the new group of super soldiers brings in a new, yet familiar face into the mix.

Chapter Summary: The group make it to Madripoor for a meeting with Selby.

Chapter Warnings: None? Unless you classify episode level violence

A/N: Ahhhhh here we go! Chapter two is here and it includes my writing foe, action. I hope I did an alright job during the fight scenes. Big shout out to @darke-15 for the advice on action scenes.

Disclaimer: All languages that are not English were provided by Google translator with the translations following in bolden italics. Gifs used were found under the gif tab provided by tumblr.

Catch up on Snowdrop here: (1)

The sun was already gone and the dark city was aglow from neon and other lights. Zemo was dressed in black with his fur lined collar jacket, Bucky was in a modern version of his old Winter Soldier outfit, the new black and gold arm clear on display, Sam was dressed in a fairly expensive suit that matched the character he was meant to play, and (Y/N) was feeling the chill night air being in the least amount of clothing, a simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places but kept a knife strapped to her inner thigh hidden from sight with strappy heels to make her look the part. “When this is over I’m putting on pants.” She mumbled with her arms crossed in front of her to try and maintain warmth.

We have to fix this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp and poor (Y/N) looks like one of my girls.” Sam complained as he fussed over the suit given to him. “Only an American would assume a fashion forward black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo corrects him, not taking his attention off the destination they were walking to. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. Besides, Snowdrop knows she is safer dressed like that.” The woman walking between Zemo and Bucky huffs the clicking of her shoes nearly echoing across the bridge. “Don’t call me that. Besides, people just see me and get nervous. But seeing me and then seeing him,” She gestures to Bucky who had a straight face, “in the same room...they will be on alert.” Sam looked over at them a bit confused.

“The man you are playing is a sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Zemo pulled attention back as he passed a phone to Sam to prove his point. “He even has a bad nickname,” Sam comments while taking the phone. “But hell he does look like me though.” The only woman in the group scrunches up her nose at the smell that was now present in the area. “Smell that?” Sam hums since she couldn’t see him nod, “Yeah, what is that? Acid?” A car was at the other end headlights facing them. “Madripoor.” It was a second before Zemo gave a warning, “No matter what happens. We have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error. The car was slowly turned as it prepared to receive its passengers. “Over there is High Town. Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” Zemo opened the front passenger side door to get in the car while Bucky opened the back offering a hand to help (Y/N) in first. Sam crossed to the other side of the car to get in, “Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

The doors closed just in time for thunder to roll through the sky. The female now in the middle of the back seat rolled her shoulders to release the tension. Her hand settled between her, resting just over the metal plates of Bucky’s while her other hand remained on her lap. A finger unconsciously running over the smooth metal. Blue eyes watched her fingers move over the metal so delicately. His eyes traveled up the hand and arm to her neck and finally he was peering at her profile out of the corner of his eye. She seemed anxious as she rubbed her fingers over his metal hand. With the smallest turn of his wrist he gently grabbed ahold of her hand rubbing the metal of his thumb over her knuckles. There was a small tick of a lift in the corner of her mouth from his action. The car was flanked by motorcycles on all sides, Bucky glanced out his window as Sam shifted to look. “The welcome party has arrived,” (Y/N) hummed, not moving to look.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

It was time. The car was parked and the four were walking through the streets of Low Town. Zemo leading the way, followed by Sam who kept a secure hold around (Y/N)’s waist (he wasn’t just using it to play the part but her being close was partly a comfort plus he was making sure she didn’t get caught in any of the grating with her heels), and broadening Bucky stood tall as he constantly scanned the crowds. “Here.” Zemo said over his shoulder walking into a bar. Heads turned upon their entry. Zemo asked if Bucky, although referring to him as the Winter Soldier, will comply. “Is that the Winter Soldier? And Snowdrop?” The question was whispered by someone in the crowd as they passed. Sam gave the girl a slight squeeze on the hip where his hand had settled naturally. They made it to the bar, Sam placing the female of the group between him and Zemo while Bucky leaned against the bar on the other side of Zemo.

“Hello, gentlemen, and lady. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender greeted them. Zemo nodded his head towards Sam as he answered for him, “His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby. The former lieutenant caught the glances from other bar patrons and even someone shifting away from them. Her eyes bat innocently when someone catches her making her turn her attention back towards Sam with a smile. “Usual?” The bartender asks with a nod of his head towards Sam who instead of speaking nods in agreement. Bucky turned his head away from the bar as he looked out over the crowd. “I can’t watch this part.” She whispered under her breath. Sam glanced at her curiously as she turned her body away from the bartender who set down a dead snake and began cutting into it. Zemo sighed like he was proud of something and the nurse had to control her facial expression so she didn’t convey any disgust.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” Zemo states pulling the man’s attention away from the snake. Bucky glanced at the snake before glancing away, his eyes glancing at the woman who had her eyes partly closed but he could see them moving, sweeping over the crowd. Zemo was given a shot alongside the specialty shot that Smiling Tiger would drink. “Cheers Conrad.” The Baron clinked their shots together and watched Sam’s pinched face. Zemo downed his shot and Bucky gave a nod of his head when Sam seemed to have downed the shot given to him. Spotting a few members coming their way (Y/N) tapped her heel on the floor catching Bucky and Sam’s attention. Zemo didn’t turn until a man was right behind him.

“Got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.” A bald man said standing a foot away from Zemo. Bucky’s eyes were locked on him, Sam’s was watching closely, and (Y/N) shifted on her feet as she eyed the men behind the bald one. “I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me..” Zemo gave a pointed look towards Bucky. The bald man gave a look at the ‘Winter Soldier’ who was watching him with a hard stare. “New hair cut?” He asked as if to get a response but all he heard was the small hiss-like noise that came from ‘Snowdrop’. The bald man’s head turned to glance at the woman before Zemo brought his attention back to him. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The men backed off and left. Once they were cone Bucky spoke in a low tone void of any emotion, “Power Broker? Really?” Sam leaned closer to hear their conversation. “Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.” Sam, hiding his actions by pretending to talk to the girl next to him, asked, “Do you know him?” Zemo shook his head. “Only by reputation.” The German turned around to face the crowd, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.” The sound of (Y/N)’s heel clicking on the floor brought an end to their conversation. “Zimniy Soldat,” Zemo said, turning to Bucky who looked right at him, “ataka.” Winter Soldier, attack.

A hand slapped down on the baron’s shoulder closest to Bucky, who sprung into action using the metal arm to grab the man’s hand in a grip that probably broke his hand. Bucky walked forward as the man walked backwards. Zemo simply looked over his shoulder, Sam taking a small step forward concerned for his friend. Cracking could be heard as Bucky hit the man’s shoulder, most likely dislocating it. In a flash he let go of the man’s hand holding his arm out to knock the guy off his feet onto the floor. (Y/N)’s eyes scanned over the forming crowd, she didn’t miss the smirk-like grin on Zemo’s face but she ignored it for the more serious business.

Another man charged at Bucky from in front of him, trying to aim a punch to the ‘soldat’. Sam didn’t even notice it until he saw Bucky’s body shift, pushing his new fight back but there behind the dark haired man was the woman he thought was at his side. Her arm swinging to hit a man in the nose, a sickening crunch was mad on contact. She didn’t step back though. While Bucky was focused on the man in front of him, she was effortlessly moving around him, watching and covering his blind spots. Bucky leaned back to lift his leg up and kick the man away, she leaned forward with only the smallest brush of their shoulders. Bucky kicked back and she moved away, it was like a rhythmic dance but with grunts of pain. Zemo pushed another man into the mix, (Y/N) heard the sound of metal on metal and her eyes flashed to the metal arm attached to Bucky and then to the man wearing a chain falling to the floor from a jaw breaking punch from the metal fist. Another man tried sneaking into the fight from behind, the woman, tucked under the outstretched metal arm, around the solid body in time to swing her leg and hit a man behind the knee. Grabbing the back of his head she brought it down while bringing a knee up into his face. Stepping back she got sucker punched in the face. Bucky moved past her grabbing the hat wearing man by the neck and slamming him onto the bar, holding him there.

The sound of a gun cocking was clear in (Y/N)’s ears and it was followed by several others. She glanced around the bar seeing quite a few being drawn. Sam’s hand grab’s Bucky’s arm to stop him but his wrist was grabbed rather tightly by the woman who was now back at his side. “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” She hissed out in a low voice playing it off like a warning. “Molodets, soldat ... podsnezhnik.” Well done, soldier...snowdrop. Zemo’s Russian made Bucky’s hold loosen but he didn’t move. “Selby will see you now,” the bartender informed the four of them. The man groaned as Bucky slowly pulled back, his eyes looked far off and haunted. “Thank you.” Zemo gave a small nod to the bartender. “You good?” Sam asked his friend as (Y/N) reached over the bar to grab a napkin to wipe the blood from her lip. Bucky never replied but he exhaled sharply, before turning to follow Zemo. Sam looked at the woman who shrugged her shoulders. “He’ll be better.” She offered hoping it would make him feel better.

With Zemo leading the group they walked through the back, passed a room filled with what looked to be money. Still on edge from the bar fight, (Y/N)’s eyes were constantly moving, unlike Bucky who usually had a locked target, she was trained to have constant vigilance. That’s how she noticed that at any given time there would be four guns in a room. “You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby began to speak to Zemo upon entry to her back room without so much as turning her head. “Not a demand, an offer.” Zemo corrects as he takes a seat across from her. Bucky stood back towards the wall on one side of Zemo while (Y/N) did the same, her eyes taking a look through the room to make a mental inventory of what they were dealing with if things went south.

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby looked from Zemo to both the ex assassin and the nurse behind him. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison.” The elder woman in the room raised her eyebrows at the knowledge, “How did you escape?” The baron just shrugged his shoulders slightly and gestured to himself then to Selby, “People like us always find a way, don’t we? I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” Without turning her head she points a finger over towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” At her finished statement she turned her head towards Sam, she seemed almost skeptical. Sam simply nodded his head in response. Selby let out a creepy purr as she pawed her fingers in his direction. From the corner of her eye she could see the slight glimmer of amusement pass through the blue eyes of the stiff man next to her.

A smile now on her face Selby turned back towards Zemo. “What’s the offer?” “Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo stood and walked over towards Bucky, “And I give you him.” (Y/N)’s made a sound of protest from where she stood. “And of course wherever he goes Snowdrop follows. Plus the code words to control him, of course.” Zemo walked around the still man, presenting him like a prize, stroking his jaw, “He will do anything you want and as long as you have him she will be obedient as well.” Zemo glanced over towards the nurse whose eyes were locked onto Bucky’s form.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.” Selby spoke with a smile as Zemo moved back to his seat. “The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or..” She glanced towards the ‘asset’ “condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but things didn’t go as planned.” The only other female in the room tucked her arms behind her back to hide her clenching and unclenching fists. That stupid serum caused so much damage. “Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked curiously. “Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby stood for the first time since they entered the room. “And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby walked past Sam towards Zemo. Just as she passed a loud vibrating noise came from Sam’s inner jacket pocket, his phone. Bucky glanced over at her as he heard her heel click. From working together he knew she was already seeing this turn into a fight.

The second vibration made Bucky’s head turn towards the man across from them, a hard stare from both ex HYDRA members and Zemo’s internal cursing that Sam hadn’t just turned his phone off. “Answer it. On speaker.” Selby ordered, pointing to one of her men making him step forward. Sam looked back at him, noticing the gun in his hands. His eyes looked back at the woman they were dealing with. It was his sister on the phone and he really didn’t want to bring her into this nor did he want this to blow their cover. “Bud' gotov, zima,” (Y/N) whispered soft enough that no one but Bucky would hear. Be ready, Winter. She heard a low hum in response from him as they both watched as Sam answered the phone with a firm ‘hello’.

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been driving me nuts” A female’s reply said through the phone speakers. For a moment there was hope he could play if off. “What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam’s eyes were still on Selby as she now circled the former Winter Soldier. “‘Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” (Y/N)’s eyes were following Selby also. “Don’t touch.” She warned softly, earning a playful smile from the older woman. “What situation, Sarah? Say it.”

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.” Sam should have ended the phone call by now. Not to mention stating a name could be used against him. He would need to learn a few things. The over dramatic reply made Snowdrop's hand twitch as she wanted to face palm at him. She glanced at the soldier next to her with an expression of ‘Is he for real?’. Of course all she received in return was a small twitch at the corner of his mouth that would form into a ghost of a smile given different circumstances. With Sarah’s response the younger looking woman clicked her tongue and made a small gesture to Sam to end the call.

The call didn’t end in time before Sarah gave away Sam’s true identity. Selby gave the order for the four to be killed. Before the order could be followed through a window shattered as a bullet pierced through hitting Selby. Sam acted quickly fighting the man next to him for the gun in his hands. A shot was fired at Bucky but it hit the metal arm, Bucky grabbed the end of the gun pushing the machine up and back until he was able to hit the original holder in the side of the head with it. (Y/N) drew her knife while covering Zemo’s back as they moved towards an exit. Bucky, still holding the gun he took, leaned slightly behind a wall ready to fire. “They’re gonna pin this on us.” Sam comments breathing heavily. “We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.”

A ping sounded in rounds all around. “Yeah. Well I bet that’s the bounty being placed on our head.” The nurse scoffed as she tucked the knife into Bucky’s pocket. At least they wouldn’t be completely defenseless. They all quickly walked through the streets trying to escape. An exotic dancer in a window motioned a gun shooting at them. Then suddenly lights went out, the town turned nearly silent before shots rang out through the air. “Damn it.” (Y/N) growled as she grabbed the bottom hem of her dress and gave a tug ripping the fabric giving her more mobility as they began to run from their shooters.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled as he struggled to run in the shoes given to him for the outfit. “Speak for yourself birdbrain!” The female next to him called back from next to him, one of her heels had just broken off in their stumbled run leaving. “We have company.” She called out as motorcycles turned the corner. Turning a corner, tree shots broke through the air each hitting someone after them. (Y/N) stumbled as she stopped running, taking the moment of pause to kick off not just the broken heel but the other one as well. “Stupid shoes.”

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo comments.

A figure appears a few yards away, a hood covering their face from view. “Or someone who really wants that bounty,” (Y/N) muttered, tense from the fighting. She had clearly noticed her weaknesses from being out of practice and it made her uneasy. Especially now with someone holding a gun just a few short yards away. The two ex HYDRA partners shifted just slightly, Bucky was in front with his metal hand clasped shut ready to raise it to block any fired bullets while (Y/N) fell in perfectly in the right side just behind him where she had been trained to cover his ‘weaker’ side.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice came from the hooded figure. Zemo turned around, The female sounding figure, while pointing the guy towards Zemo, reached up and pulled down the hood. The face revealed was familiar, at least to most of the group. “Drop it, Zemo.” Zemo set down the gun he had in hand while Bucky stepped forward looking confused. “Sharon?”

#Snowdrop #bucky x f!reader #Bucky x reader #fatws fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n

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natural-namjoon · 4 years

Text

Touch me, Tease me, Feel me up

18+ Lucas smut

You had no idea what you were doing here but holy shit you were having so much fun, it was probably 1 in the morning and you were being led by your friends through the crowded streets of São Paulo, you and a couple friends had pooled some savings and booked a spur of the moment vacation in brazil, one of the hottest locations in the world for partying and clubbing. Currently you guys had been club hopping, checking out the diffrent vibes of each one and none of them had spoken to you, they had either a boring crowd or older people.

After a bit of walking around, you all had come accross a brightly lit, building that was painted red, the color of sin, and a large sparkling sign on top of the building read NeoCity. The music coming from inside was pretty good and the men and women walking in were very, very hot. You shared a look with all your friends and then as a unit started heading to the long line.

You guys stood in the line for what felt like forever and slowly the line shortened but as the people were let in it was cut off right before you and your friends were able to get in. Groans of disaproval came from not only your group but the many people behind you. Again you had to wait. After a bit the front door opened and a man came out, he stopped at the front and observed the long line waiting to enter the night club. He turned to talk to the bouncer and before he walked back in he turned as he noticed you and your friends. He stopped and you got a good look at him. Right off the bat you noticed how tall he was, he was huge, and even under his prestine blazer you could tell his arms big and long. He was handsome too, beautiful square jaw and full lips, his eyes were sharp and intense and you felt so exposed as he raked them over your body, clearly checking you out and your friends as well. After a bit he smiled and walked over.

"Well hello ladies, how are we doing tonight?" He asked you guy and you all just nodded and said you were good, just waiting to get in.

"Well I noticed the wait is probably going to be pretty long and I would hate for a gorgeous bunch of girls such as yourselves to wait out here, were its noisy and crowded. Why don't you follow me through our V.I.P. doors? My associates and I will take great care of you" he explained as he unhooked the rope divider and gesturing to the set of double door that was adjacent to the main entrance. You and your friends looked at eachother in disbelief and excitement at his words, but just being cautious you turned and asked him "Thats so nice of you but who exactly are you and your associates?" You asked,

he smirked and leaned down like he was going to whisper in your ear

"We happen to be the owners of this night club." And with that he winked at you and gestured again for you and your friends to follow him, you all just excitedly and nervously followed him through the secluded set of double doors into the loud sexy abyss that was Neo City.

Once inside the tall man turned to you and again gave you that look like he was devouring you with his eyes,

"You can call me Johnny, by the way" he leaned down so you could hear him over the music, he must be American, you thought to yourself. His english was perfect and he didnt have any kind of accent he also didn't really look Brazilian.

" Oh, im Y/N" you introduced yourself and he smirked again and this time he leaned down so close you could feel his breath on your earlobe. It sent a wave of shivers down your body.

"That's a beautiful name." He said then without another word gestured for you to follow him. He led you and your friends up some stairs and onto a sort of open bacony that over looked the rest of the night club, there was couches and table and a few spots on the floor with pillows and stands for drinks. There were a few people ther already, some couples and girls and guys just mingling, all of them though, were extremely attractive.

Johnny had told you and your friends to make yourselves comfortable and he was going to be right back.

You and your friends found a couch with a table close to the railing of the balcony so that you could watch all the people dance. A waiter came by and took your drink orders and promptly returned so you guys could start drinking. You guys started with a round of tequila shots with a salt and lime chaser, after that you got your drink which was a sex on the beach, strong but oh so sweet.

After a bit you looked over and saw that Johnny had retuned but he had 3 other men with him and it looked like they all walked off the page of a Calvin Klein ad as they approached. Johnny walked over and gestured to the men with him,

"Hello ladies I just wanted to introduce you to a couple of my associates, this is Jaehyun," he gestured to a brown haired, gorgeous man who smiled showing a prefect set of dimples

"Hello, Im Jaehyun and I'm so pleased to meet you all," he said in a smooth deep voice

"And this is Ten" Johnny gestured to a smaller man next to him, he had midnight black hair, though he wasnt as tall or built like the other 3 he made up for it in beauty and style. He bowed slightly and greeted you and your friends

"Call me Ten, Johnny wasn't lying when he said you all were a lovely group of gorgeous women" he smiled as you all felt yourselves blush, and lastly Johnny introduced the 3rd man who he claimed was named Lucas and holy shit was this guy hot, like scortching hot. Johnny and the other two were hot but the way Lucas had been staring at you since they walked in had you feeling like your skin was going to melt. Lucas didn't say anything but instead he nodded cooly. After introductions Johnny, Jaehyun and Ten sat on the couch across from your guy's and started chatting with you and your friends.

You tried to focus on what was being said in the conversation but you couldn't quite keep your thoughts straight as Lucas had decided to take a seat on the couch armrest right next to you.

You snuck a glance up at him and he sat there perched like a god, seemingly focused on the coversation but all you could feel was the heat from his large body and smell the sweet yet deep scent of his cologne. You didnt know if you felt dizzy from the alcohol or from your arousal, all you could do was sit and sip your second drink and try to stay upright. Vaguely you heard the guys talk about how they and 17 other men from all over the world owned a share of the club and as a whole they brought the nightclub together and made it what it was. You thought about how that was so many guys and you also vaguely wondered if they were all also as attractive as the 4 in front of you right now and if so when was the next orgy?

A soft touch on your upper arm startled you out if your dirty thoughts, it was lucas gently caressing your arm, he gave a crooked smile at your reaction and his right eyebrow arched a bit, you wondered if he could see down your shirt from his angle.

"I'm Lucas, what is your name? " his voice was deep and smooth, he had a heavy accent to his words unlike Johnny and Jaehyun, Ten had an accent but it wasnt like Lucas's.

"My name is y/n" was all you could breath out.

"Y/n," he repeated, the sound of your name with his accent was so sexy you suddenly had a new appreciation for your own name. He said something else after but it wasnt English, it sounded like Chinese? You cursed yourself for wasting your high school career learning spanish when you could have taken Chinese instead.

Before you could respond you heard one of your favorite songs come on and you jumped up to go look at the dance floor as it was flooded with beautiful bodies. You ran over and watched the people dance, girating and moving along with the heavy bass and addicting rhythm, they were all sweaty and disheveled but they all looked so damn hot.

Finishing up your third drink you felt the warmth of the alcohol spread through your body and the thundering of the heavy base echoed in your pulse and soon you were standing there holding on to the railing, hips swaying to the song, all the sudden you felt a big pair of hands gently grab your hips and from behind, Lucas leaned down to your ear,

"Would you like to dance?" He asked and you turned and nodded exitedly he smiled and lead you down the set of stairs onto the crowded dancefloor. Immediately you let the music take you. Your body was not your own as the mix of drinks and music had you moving your body and without thinking found yourself grinding back onto Lucas's big firm body. Not feeling shy himself, he let his hands run along your body feeling all your curves and lines. It was heavenly. You turned to face him and again was floored by how gorgeous he was, he never took his eyes off of you as you both danced. His eyes were hypnotic, beautiful brown and intense, framed by long lashes, the look in them was primal, like he was ready to devour you at any second and honestly you would have let him. As the song progressed you felt yourself start to get more and more wound up, the feeling of Lucas's soft warm lips on your ear and neck definitely didnt help. Feeling bold you snaked your hand down to his crotch and found a semi-hard suprise in his trousers, you heard his breathy gasp as you gave a little squeeze, he pulled back slightly to meet your eyes and you could tell by the look on his face that it was on.

He leaned down again and with a smooth sexy voice he said something to you in Chinese. You could see his lovely lips moving but you had no clue what he was saying, but based on the aroused look on his face and the questioning arch of his eyebrow you felt like you knew what he was asking. After a beat you nodded and he smirked, turning he grabbed your hand and led you to diffrent set of stairs towards the back of the club. It led up to a grand set if double doors, after he pulled out a heavy key ring full of keys, he unlocked it and led youbdown a long hallway and eventually into a room that looked like a luxury hotel room. There was a large comfy looking bed, a TV some dressers and an adjoining bathroom. The sound proofing must have been magical because you couldnt hear a sound from outside, had you not known any better you never would have thought you were in a nightclub at that moment. The only sound you hear in the room was the thundering of your hearbeat and the sound of Lucas taking his black blazer off.

You turned around and met his gaze, you felt your breath hitch and your core throb in inticipation as he walked towards you. Slowly, he reached up and caressed your cheek then running his thumb over your bottom lip, he spoke to you again in his language and you just loved the way he was talking to you, you may not of understood him but it was beautiful when he spoke. In response you reached up and planted your lips on his. The kiss quickly went from sweet to needy and his soft lips became more desprate and intense. Feeling brave and not breaking your make out session, you reached up and started to unbutton his shirt, wanting to feel more of him but out of impatience he reached down and just tore the whole damn shirt open, you could hear buttons scatter and bounce all over the floor, you gasped suprised but he just let out the sexiest chuckle then pulled you back in for a kiss this time letting his toungue explore more.

Your ran you hands along his torso and chest, it turned you on how solid he was, clearly he worked out and the feeling if his tight abs and pecs was so nice. Taking some time himself to explore your body you felt him reach down and slowly lift your skirt and with both hands he grabbed your ass, both cheeks fitting prefectly in his big hands, you felt a smile on his lips and he lifted you and walked you over to the bed. Based on the hardness in his pants and the uregency in his kisses you knew he needed you right away but the way he layed you on the bed and gently went to undo the lace of your top, so calm and caring, it drove you crazy.

After removing your top he slid your skirt and underwear off leaving you fully exposed for him and after a bit of marveling at your nude body he leand down and started tasting every inch of you, he started kissing and licking little bits of your neck then making his way to your sensitive breasts, the way his mouth licked and nipped and bit was turning you into a pathetic mewling mess. You were almost begging him for his cock, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he layed on you and proceeded to grind your core against his clothed member. The friction provided some relief but you were still desperate. He groned into your chest and then brought his lips to yours,

"Be patient." He whispered against your lips all you could do was whine in response.

Again be brought his lips down and started teasing the skin on your torso, me moved painfully slow all the way to your navel, you knew where he was headed next and your chest rose and fell fast as you waited patiently, he looked up at you and the sight of you looking down at him deperate and needy made him smile, you wanted to smack him for his cockiness but you needed him to go further so you shimmied your hips under him hoping he would get the hint, but still he stayed watching your reactions, eyebrow arched.

"Lucas," you whined and then without warning his head dipped down and you felt his toungue dive deep in your folds

"Oh FUCK!" your cried both in suprise and at the sudden stimulation to your most sensitive parts.

He was showing no mercy at your sensitive clit, he was eating you out like he was starved, you could feel his tounge brutally attacking your clit, you had to grab on to his soft brown hair for dear life as you screamed his name. After a bit you felt him use his fingers to tease your entrance and you just knew if he used his long fingers you would be completely unraveled. He teased your entrance for a bit with one finger before he again looked up at you making full eye contact as he alowly inserted it all the way. Again he had you throwing all the curse words ever created. His fingers where so big and long you couldnt even imaginge how his cock was. Without warning he added a second finger and proceeded to stretch you out as he pumped his fingers in and out of you while not letting up on his assult on your clit

'this dude is relentless' you thought as you felt your mind melt at the intense pleasure you were feeling.

Faster than you anticipated you felt the pressure build in your stomach and you started to shake, and your felt yourself trying to escape his hold but his hands held your hips down firm and you weren't able to escape as you approached your climax. Without slowing down at all Lucas pushed you over the edge and you came on his toungue and fingers all while screaming his name.

You layed there there trying to catch your breath as Lucas got up and removed his pants and boxers, you loked up and you couldnt help but gasp at how he looked standing there compleatly nude, body sculpeted and lean, arms big and stong and when you looked down and saw your assumtions were right, his dick was long, reaching to his navel as it stood hard and ready, you suddenly forgot that you had just came once and already you craved more of this man who was sex incarnate.

He climed back on the bed and crashed his lips and to yours, you could taste yourself on his lips as his skillfull toungue mingled with yours.

He reached down in between your legs tangled with his and lined his memeber up with your entrance he gazed into your eyes and watched your face contort with pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You swore you could see stars he was so big, he streached you out more than you have ever been before. He grunted and his breath became shaky as he slowly bottomed out in you. He stayed still letting you adjust but you were beyond patience,

" Lucas please, fuck me" you moaned reaching up to grasp his wide shoulders. He moaned in response and then started moving. You could feel every movement as his big manhood stretched and stroked your walls in all the right spots, he filled you so well and for a moment you forgot your own name. His grunts and deep groans were music to your ears as he picked up the pace, pounding deep into you.

Suddenly he pulled out of you and you gasped at the empty feeling he left behind. he leaned back on his knees then pulled you up onto his lap, you straddled his hips as he entered you again and he bucked his hips up, you let out a scream in suprise and pleasure as he was able to reach even deeper from the new position, once he got situated he proceeded to fuck up into you while all you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life, again for the third time that night this man had your brain melting and you seeing stars and the moon and the whole damn galaxy. All you could do was scream his name over and over, again you felt the coil in your belly as he contiued his animalistic pace. His moans became more frequent which let you know he was close as well. He reached in between you and with his thumb toyed with your clit pushing you faster to your finish, with one last scream of his name you came on his dick but he didnt let up on his pace letting you ride your high for a little longer while he tried to chase his. You decided to help him out and quickly you stopped him and climbed off his lap, laying on your stomach in front of him, taking as much of his cock in your mouth as you could and started to show him how you were also skilled with your tongue.

As you bobbed your head on his length you used your toungue to move and swipe quickly inder the head. He groaned loudly at the new feeling around his cock and he dug his hand in your hair as his climax approached. Finally, throwing his head back with a guttural cry, he came hard. Thick ropes hit your throught as you tried your hardest to swallow it all.

When he came down from his high you took your mouth off his member with a small pop and he looked down and smiled at you. You got up and layed,back down, on the bed. He crawled over to you and took you into his arms and captured your lips with his in a sweet slow kiss. You let yourself relax in his embrace and part of you felt like you should say something but on the other hand you felt content just laying there cuddling in silence. You felt yourself starting to doze off since you were exhausted and Lucas was big and warm wrapped around you, you were pretty relaxed when you felt something on your nipple you looked down and Lucas was brushing his fingers over your breasts groping them slowly, you looked up at him questioningly and he gave you the biggest smile, he almost looked like a silly kid in that moment. All he said was,

"Again?"

Oh lord help you.

#superm lucas #lucas nct #lucas smut #nct smut #wayv smut #not enough nct smut in this world #smutshot #smut #nct127 smut #natural-namjoon works

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Text

Got a handful of DC-solicit asks, so I’ll just write up my thoughts on the whole batch again.

Mister Miracle: The Source of Freedom #1: The BALLS to not only do the next Mister Miracle thing after King and Gerads, but to do it with Shilo Norman and therefore invite Seven Soldiers comparisons as well. I wouldn’t be that interested, but the preview art that came with the announcement looked fun so this is a maybe for me.

Wonder Girl #1: I got a Yara Flor ask so I’ll go more into detail with that, but this sounds...not good.

Future State: Gotham #1: Hahaha, thanks, call me in six months if the next team does something there’s a reason to give a shit about. Except...wait, Dennis Culver cowrote that E Is For Extinction Secret Wars mini, dammit this might be good. Either way though, god willing we get a Future State: Metropolis book by Dan Watters too.

Legends of the Dark Knight #1: Hopefully this going with Sensational Wonder Woman means there’s a similar Superman anthology in the cards too, but I won’t hold my breath. Darick Robertson doing Batman is enticing, but I’m not familiar with his work as a writer and the premise doesn’t sound that gripping so I’ll wait and see. That Francavilla variant though? DC, blow that up to poster size and you’d make a mint.

Milestone Returns: Infinite Edition #0: Hmm. I got love for Static, but I might wait for further announcements and/or buzz before taking the plunge on this one.

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1: This is a SERIOUSLY stacked lineup, definite buy.

Stargirl Spring Break Special #1: Impeccable timing, DC. It feels like it must be some kind of statement that there are no Morrison members of the Seven Soldiers in the mix (even swapping out Ystin for the original version of Shining Knight no one cares bout) - we focus on the Moore fixation, but there’s enough tidbits that I really do feel like Johns probably flat-out hates Morrison. And what’s this ‘secret eighth soldier’ nonsense? There’ve always been eight soldiers, people have been joking about it forever!

Justice League: Last Ride #1: Discussed that announcement here.

Batman: Earth One Vol. 3: *blinks*

*blinks again*

*squints at the cover art*

...Geoff Johns are you seriously trying to step to Morrison and use the Miagani tribe? YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN PEOPLE

I Am Not Starfire: Interesting concept that seems like it pushes into indie-flavored territory as much as DC’s superhero output just about ever has, if word-of-mouth is good there’s a decent chance I’ll get this.

Action Comics #1031: Wonder if this is serious about the potential of Kryptonian refugees, given PKJ suggested the idea in Worlds of War and that could play a significant part in the New Krypton stuff from Bendis’s Legion (with Johnson being clear he’s following up on a lot of Bendis’s ideas with his own Superman run).

Superman #31: This sounds big-time like Johnson hammering Superman into a swords-and-sorcery shape for an arc since that’s his bag, but Superman’s malleable enough for that to work so I’m not complaining.

American Vampire 1976 #8: Still not getting, so.

Batman #108: Tynion’s well and truly figured out how to game the direct market’s dopiest instincts, hasn’t he? Well, as long as that’s in service of him getting to continue doing weird Batman stuff with Jorge Jimenez like introducing whatever the ‘Unsanity Collective’ is, that’s fine with me. And more Ghostmaker!

Batman: Black & White #6: Not as packed for the finale as some previous issues, but still looking good. And there’s really never gonna be a ‘last’ Scott Snyder Batman story, is there? Sure it’ll be good but that’s kind of a shame, his Detective #1027 feature really felt like a nice full circle.

Batman: The Detective #2: Guess I wasn’t the only one wondering if it was a stealth DKR prequel and they wanted to cut that notion out at the knees.

Batman/Catwoman #6: Still very down for it, but BOY that Batwoman costume Mann debuted on Twitter.

The Batman & Scooby Doo Mysteries #2: I recently finally started reading Sholly Fisch and companies’ Scooby-Doo Team-Up! recently after getting the whole run for free on ComiXology earlier this year and have fallen in love with it, so I’m totally grabbing this digitally.

Batman/Superman #18: “The Dark Knight and the Man of Steel are on a mission to stop the godlike Auteur.io from destroying the pocket worlds he’s created...but where on Earth did Auteur.io even come from? The answer starts not on Earth at all, but with an ancient cult of World Forger worshippers on a planet far away—and if our heroes are to have a prayer of stopping this mythic behemoth, they’ll need to get to the bottom of his power source, and quick! It’s a race against time as the parallel lives of entire worlds hang in the balance!”

Anonymous said: Haha is Yang really doing Superman & Batman vs. Zack Snyder and the Snyder Cult (look up “auter” if you don’t know what I mean)? That’s fucking hilarious, especially since he apparently comes from the World Forge which is where all the shitty Earths full of bad ideas are made. Pretty pointed criticism there if I’m reading it right.

I’ve seen two or three people other than this anon independently conclude this arc is about the Supermen and Batmen of the Multiverse teaming up to stop Zack Snyder from destroying them all and at this point I’m ready to ask my LCS owner if I’m allowed to pay more than cover price for this run.

Batman: Urban Legends #3: Much more into this after the Grifter and Outsiders stories in Future State.

Catwoman #31: No reason not to assume this’ll continue to be great.

Challenge of the Super Sons #2: Good for the folks who want this, and that Nick Bradshaw variant is fun.

Crime Syndicate #3: I wanna be convinced to get this book, but the interviews are not persuading me.

Detective Comics #1036: How long is Mora sticking around?!

The Dreaming: Waking Hours #10: Another one I’ve got nothing to say about because I’ve never been getting it.

The Flash #770: Actually really excited to hear about how bad this run will suck now that I know it’s by the mind behind that “Geoff Johns’ OC - do not steal - beats up the Grant Morrison DC future” catastrophe from Future State.

Green Lantern #2: Really couldn’t wait a month for Far Sector to wrap up, huh?

Harley Quinn #3: Still not interested, but that *is* a nice cover.

The Joker #3: There’s a very real possibility I’ll have dropped the book by this point if it turns out to be the illustrated editorial mandate I get the feeling it could be, but fingers crossed.

Justice League #61: Not complaining, but wow, this really is Naomi 2 since Campbell’s busy in order to provide the necessary material for the CW show.

Looney Toons #260/Mad #20: Were these grouped with the rest of the solicits before?

Man-Bat #4: Very curious how this’ll be received, given nobody much cares about Man-Bat but Wielgosz seems to be quickly becoming a favorite.

The Next Batman: Second Son #2: Hadn’t realized this was only 4 issues - guess for at least one of them it’ll be the Luke Fox book everyone expected in the first place.

Nightwing #80: Dick Grayson vs. Heartless, not how I expected the DC/Kingdom Hearts crossover to happen but I’ll take it. That variant though? ALL TIMER:

The Other History of the DC Universe #4: I was trying to figure out who the focus of #4 would be since we know #5 is about Thunder and Lightning, forgot Montoya was confirmed.

Robin #2: Wanna care, so don’t care.

Rorschach #8: I will get it and probably like it.

RWBY/Justice League #2: My thoughts here will be their own post because there’s something particularly notable, but:

Anonymous said: Have you seen the BATtleaxe from the new art for RWBY/Justice League?

Yes, anon. Yes I have.

Sensational Wonder Woman #3: Eh, premise doesn’t grab me but maybe.

Strange Adventures #10: God I love the book about how Adam Strange sucks.

Suicide Squad #3/Teen Titans Academy #3: Hahahahaha

Superman: Red and Blue #3: Fiffe and Stokoe doing Superman stories!!! And...Nick Spencer. With Christian Ward art?! Sigh, fine, hopefully it’ll be Nick Spencer doing a nice little comedy, and not having Grant Morrison Superman throwing his t-shirt away because he grew up and realized changing things is too hard. A horrible shame Pope is doing the main cover though, the allegations against him I guess never really got any attention. At least there’s this JPL variant:

The Swamp Thing #3: Swampy will never be my guy but very happy for those who dig him, because I imagine this’ll be terrific.

Truth & Justice #4: Normally I wouldn’t care at all, but what I’m hearing on Twitter about this is a crying shame - that Jeff Trammell is really talented and Red Hood is a favorite of his and this is likely to be one of Jason Todd’s few Actually Good comics, but that artist Rob Guillory is a bullying transphobic piece of shit. Sucks all around.

Wonder Woman #772: I was so excited for this run, and then Immortal Wonder Woman had to go and suck.

#DC Comics #Opinion

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briansastro10 · 3 years

Text

BNHA X Cars

KaminariSo, this is basically BNHA Street racer AU. But to be more precise I’m picking the cars for the characters from BNHA. Because cars have characteristic, it has personality and it describes you as a person. Not just based from the body but the engines and the car as whole. So, this is my pick of cars for the character of BNHA

Part 1 For the boys

I’m going to divide it into 2 cars. One is for daily drive/Sports car and the other is The Supercar. The Sports car will describe them as characters individuals. While the Supercar will describe their full potentials.

Midoriya Izuku

Midoriya Izuku, The protagonist of the Anime. He is too good of a boy to mess around street Racing. The Color for his car is obviously Green, in that case I Recommend Him.

Sport car/ Daily Drive:

The Mitsubishi Eclipse GSX.

To be more specific. It is Brian’s First car In the Fast and the furious franchise (R.I.P Paul Walker). This car is one of the Tuners favorite car to modify. It is run by 4G63 Engine, it is the same Engine that run an EVO F*CKING LANCER which is one of the finest cars that has been made on earth (Minus the Turbo). So it plays well with the whole inheritance thing with All Might.

Supercar:

For the supercar, I would Recommend McLaren 675LT

This car Look Great In green. The whole characteristic of this car reminds me of Midoriya. This car shown how it can blend to the society, how it was able to move fast and aggressively while at the same time maintaining Elegance. This car looked slim, but its performance is something else 3.8 L V8 Twin Turbo Rear Wheel Drive (RWD) Gives the ability for the driver to drive like a maniac. The car produces more or less 675 Horsepower (Just like its name) and can go to 0-100 Km in 2.9 Seconds and a top speed with 330 Km/h (205 Mph).

Bakugo Katsuki

For Bakugo, His car has to be loud and Fast! He needs a car that’s intimidating. For the color I’m Thinking Red, Yellow or Black. But since the car need to look Antagonizing, I’m going with black. So, the car that I propose.

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

Dodge Charger SRT Hell Cat 2015

This car is a 6.2L Hemi V8 Supercharged. The roars in this car is nothing short. This car is for sure is Intimidating. The roar of the engine is equivalent to Bakugo’s Roar of explosive anger. I was considering the newer one like the SRT Redeye Hellcat or even The Demon. But the demons is more of the inner demon screaming trying to get out. It needed a Rumbling sound of the V8, The insane roar that is deafening.

Supercar:

For the Supercar, it is very difficult. I can choose Hyper cars but they just felt a bit too well mannered compared to Bakugo. But I’ve given a lot of thought and the only car that fits is This

Pagani Zonda R

This car is basically an f1 with a two-seater and a roof. This bad boy is a track only car. So, it is “Street Illegal!!” But that won’t stop Bakugo for using this beauty. This car on high rev speaks will be all the explanation needed on the reason why I chose this car. A car with 700 BHP and only weight 1,070 Kg (In comparison Ford focus weight 1,471 Kg) Which is like a feather.

Todoroki Shoto

For Todoroki His car has to be cool, matured and Luxurious but also High performance. I’m a bit mixed up with the colors Whether I should make it blue or white or red. But since I cant decide I leave it in the ‘Grey’ area. Get it? Ill just get on with it.

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

Aston Martin DB11

Aston Martin is well known on it’s Luxury and History. Which fits Todoroki’s Prince aura/Characteristics. The performance is also nothing short, Aston Martin is also well known to make a brilliant Engine for racing. A twin turbocharged V12 Produce 600 BHP with a top speed 201Km/h (125Mph).

Supercar

For the Super car, I think Lamborghini Huracan Performante.

It is a naturally aspirated 5.2L V10 Engine AWD. This car has a fierce fiery engine on its car but still has that cool matured Body. And the ALA (Aerodinamica Lamborghini Attiva) Is brilliant. It is an active Aerodynamic system that allows the car to go faster.

Tenya Iida:

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

Is the Brabus 800 GT 63s

This car is perfect fot Iida, It has a look in which my friend quote “Sophisticated Look”. And Mind you this car is probably The Fastest Car! For the sport/daily drive Car compare than anyone else in the list. This car packs a crazy 800 BHP and that’s says it all

Supercar:

The fastest Car In the world! In 2010. The specific look that I would like to go is Drift From Transformer: Age Of Extinction. That Blue Lining is perfect for Iida. For some people engines might be boring, But this car have the power of 1200 Horses in it

Kirishima Eijiro

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

The car that this Manly man need to go with is the 2020 Mustang Shelby GT500.

The Engine has a named called the “Predator” V8 Engine. 750 BHP is nothing short and the roar from within is on par with Bakugo’s SRT Hellcat.

Supercar:

I was having second thought of choosing this car. But whenever I think of Kirishima in a car, This car always pops into my head

Lamborghini Adventador SV. This car Looked manly and menacing. Why I thought about this car, is that it associated it self with a bull in which Kirishima and this car can relate to. A loud V12 Engine roars loud and deep in a intimidating voice and its perfect.

Sero Hanta

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

For Sero the car has to be traditional but still a good car nonetheless. So I pick A classic Porsche 911 turbo 1982.

It is a classic sports car, It is tunable which make the car run fast.

Supercar:

Ferrari 458 Italia

This car is a normal Aspirated V8 with a high rev engine. It creates something Revolutionary From something traditional.

Kaminari Denki

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

It has to be the SUPRA!!!!!!

This car is definitely a meme, it fits with Kaminari Personality. Seeing them is like “WTH ARE YOU DOING?!” Because both Kaminari and the car would do something ridiculously stupid.

Supercar:

For the Supercar I Would say The Lexus LFA

Lexus is one of the Artistic Legacy of the JDM Cars. It is one of the legendary Supercar that ever existed. The Normal aspirated V10 Sounded like Pure Thunder striking down on the earth. Sound menacing and amazing. It fits for Kaminari Racing Persona (Or even his villain Persona).

Mashirao Ojiro

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

Ojiro is a traditional Japanese person, So his car has to be totally Japanese. My pick have to be The S30 Fairlady Z.

To be exact the RB26 Swapped Fairlady Z from Sung Kang (Han’s Actor car from “Fast and Furious”) And that’s all I need to say about this car.

Supercar:

For the Supercar It has to be the last piece of The JDM Legend. It is The GTR R35 NISMO.

This car is perfect for Ojiro, They both are the Representative Character of Japan.

Tokoyami Fumikage

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

Blackbird 370 z

For me it’s a no Brainer. This car was featured as the Replacement of Blackbird in wangan Midnight When they aren’t allowed to use the Porsche. The slick Headlight and the whole body look is the description of Tokoyami Dark Shadow

Supercar:

Mclaren MP4-12C

That Describes Tokoyami as a whole. One of the best car that ever created in history that changes the whole world. With the black fierce look, This car looks like a shark that flies on land.

Sato Rikido

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

Sato is a muscular guy. So His sports car is definitely a Muscle Car. But It seems I have a trouble in finding it, It has to be a classic but not too old. In that reason I recommend Saleen s281 2000

It has that sporty look but still have the Muscle car Essence and history

Supercar:

For the Supercar It has to be The Corvette C8.R

This car is a new take to American cars. It is a Incredible move from the American automotive Industries.

Koda Koji

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

For Koda He is definetly a good Boy so hew probably uses a 4-door car. For instance The Subaru WRX STI 2016.

It doesn't seems Menacing but it still can move around well and when it drives, it definetly drives well.

Supercar:

For the Supercar it is definetly a NSX-R 1992 Tuned with a Rocket Bunny Body Kit.

Koda is definitely a Honda city boi. From the name itself, I am 100% it fits with Koda. Back in the day if you want a Ferrari but you can’t afford one. You’ll buy an NSX.

Shoji Mezo

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

For Shoji I think Ford’s Trophy truck.

A friend of mine said that Shoji, is the kind of guy who would drive a van for daily basis (So I guessed it has to be an American Car). But to me, Shoji is the Kind of guy that likes to get Dirt under his wheels. And I'm pretty sure Shoji is the kind of kid that doesn’t Mind flying in the car on daily basis.

Supercar:

For the Supercar I propose, Ford Gt.

It is well planted and the car is very wide. Fitting to describes Shoji’s ‘Arms’. Although it might not have similarities with his daily car, But this car is all I could think of.

Aoyama Yuga

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

For the Daily Drive, it is obviously something Luxurious, Something High class Like Bentley GT 2019. The V8 Version.

It is a confiscated yet sporty look in a car, It looked like as if he stands out compares to the other Luxury Cars

Supercar:

For the Supercar, It has to be describe as “Noblesse oblige” And the Car that fits the most is Noble M600.

It is a Supercar with all the classic features. It is a RWD Manual Transmission Car, a twin turbocharged 4L V8. Packs 640 BHP 0-60 in 3.1 Second.

Mineta Minoru

Sport Car/ Daily Drive:

It’s the Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder GTS

Basically, this car is the Japanese Equivalent To pimp rides. Even though This car is featured in The Fast and The Furious, It is just a now show car. Compared the old one, This version is a slower and much more difficult to Modify. But it is still a nice car and fun to drive with, and it is a popular car in the car culture.

Supercar:

For Mineta The Supercar might be really difficult. So in the end I just came up with the Villain version. (Inspired by ‘Nadaboodraws’ Villain Mineta on Instagram) I came up with this

It is the Audi R8, It is one of the best Affordable Supercar you can get in the world. It is 4wd But it is still an aggressive car with a mean Look.

Okay that’s all I can give for this part. For the next one will be the girls of class 1-A. If you have different opinion let me know, I would love to hear all of your thoughts and if you use my list you can go ahead and use it (But please do tell me, because hearing it will be my vindication and that would make me really happy). Anyway, thank you for reading until this far.

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mooosicaldreamz · 4 years

Note

Have you listened to folklore yet?? Can you do commentary on all the songs??

it’s time.

THE 1

This song has a funny vibe in comparison with “I Forgot that You Existed” - it really sets a tone of calm, quiet vibes in comparison to the more bombastic stuff on Lover. Also this song is kind of a banger. It has a very gentle rhythm, like I’m in the sun in the woods and I’m in my hammock. I have a hammock now and I’m considering moving into it. “It would’ve been fun / if you would’ve been the one.” Also I love the “I had this dream you’re doing cool shit” - so fun, so sweet. Taylor said a curse word.

CARDIGAN

This song is proof to me that this album was produced by a Dessner because it has the same repetitive piano that I would say is a hallmark of National songs - it sounds a lot like “Light Years” to me. That song is, by the way, an absolute banger. This song? Fun! It’s an interesting metaphor, and an interesting way of saying the point of the song. And I think it’s much more grounded than some more old school Taylor metaphors of like fairytale stuff. “Tried to change ending / Peter losing Wendy.”

THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY

As we ALL KNOW, this song is about Taylor’s wonderful little house wherein the great Fourth of July celebration took place all over Instagram in the Red era. I googled it and it’s semi-biographical! I think it’s clear that Taylor is making commentary on her life on the Cape just as much as she is telling the story of this person, Rebekah Harkness. It’s an interesting piece of self-awareness to compare herself to an oil heiress who caused quite the stir in a segment of the world that is full of big stirrers (ie the Kennedys who I’m pretty sure she was neighbors with somewhere down the beach). I’m intrigued. She is having fun.

EXILE (FEAT BON IVER)

This will sound like absurd hyperbole but between Bon Iver and Taylor Swift, I’d be hard pressed to name two artists who have fucked up my life more. Getting to hear his beautiful baritone without layers of distress like he’s been rolling with lately is a gift. Thank you to Taylor Swift. “I can see you staring, honey / like he’s just your understudy / like you’d get your knuckles bloody / for me.” VIBEZ???? ARE WE VIBING????? I AM VIBGIN!!!!!! “Those eyes add insult to injury????”” BANGER!!! IT’S A BANGER. THAT BREAKDOWNN!!!! LET’S ROLL!!!! LET’S GET FUCKED UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m PUTTING THIS ON SO MANY PLAYLISTS!!!!!!!!!!

MY TEARS RICOCHET

LET’S GET EMO !!!!!!!! You know, just recently I was discussing with Lynne (or myself? I talk to myself about Taylor a lot) about how she’s gonna go on her like farewell tour when she’s 50-60 or whatever and it’s gonna be all these low-down sexy baller mixes, like when Cyndi Lauper did her greatest hits cover release (it’s a banger!). This album is just an excuse for her to sing in her low register. God, I’d die for her. I love how sad this is. I have too many favorite lines. “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace / ‘cause when I’d fight, you used to tell me I was brave / And if I’m dead to you why are you at the wake?” ALSO “And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones.” OKAY HONEY!!!!!!! This is a clear Supercorp song. Since I know this is why you are asking. Start here for fic titles.

MIRRORBALL

Oh, okay, Taylor went to the woods and listened to Ryan Adams, Bon Iver, and just fucked around and made shoe gaze pop? What kind of talent!!!! Her last album was premium pop. Why is she like this. This song is very interesting. It’s very sweet. The phrasing on “tallest tiptoes / highest heels” oh my God. I love this song. I might cry.

SEVEN

Another absolute National-style production, God, we are living in my dream world on this album. “I’ve been meaning to tell you / I think your house is haunted / Your dad is always mad and that must be why / And I think you should come live with me / and we can be pirates.” WHAT A JOKE. WHAT A JOKE!!!!!!! What a beautiful portrait of childhood. There’s a scene in Spring Awakening (the musical, I can only assume now that Taylor is a big fan), where they talk about playing pirates when they were younger and now everything is tragic. “Are there still beautiful things?” It shouldn’t be that easy bro.

AUGUST

This, like “Seven” is an Antonoff production, which is just vibes. The dreaminess. We are vibing. As much as I am inclined to hate the line, “August slipped away like a bottle of wine” it is phrased so well and delicately that it comes across more dreamy than wine mom memey. I also just want to say that I bought the OG vinyl and the “meet me behind the mall” vinyl and after hearing the song that it comes from it’s a vibe. This is obviously a teenage romp song, which is really great because obviously Taylor wrote about being a teenager in love when she was a teenager and wrote about like, the classic world-ending Romeo and Juliet style fairytale. But this is….”meet me behind the mall.” Which is such an adult perspective on what being a teenager is. It’s so wonderful to see that artistic depth in an artist we’ve literally watched grow.

THIS IS ME TRYING

I feel like this is the depression song that should have been on Reputation but was so out of step with the rest of the album between it’s thunderous anger / thunderous oh-shit-I’m-into-this-dude that they couldn’t work it in. And it doesn’t quite vibe with Lover either…this whole song is GREAT. It’s very depression 101. It makes me cry also. “They told me all of my cages were mental / so I got wasted like all my potential / and my words shoot to kill when I’m mad / I have a lot of regrets about that.” I LOVE the way she sings “I have a lot of regrets about that.” Also “and it’s hard to be at a party / when I feel like an open wound.” Absolute banger.

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

I feel we should give this song the true banger status because Taylor wrote a song about a girl who is the other woman and it’s empathetic. God, we love progress. This song also does a good job of being about the other woman, but also has a little more universal appeal. I know when I heard this I was like, “oof, okay, I don’t miss being 16.” The word mercurial is used in this song.

INVISIBLE STRING

Not to get too emo about it, but this song is adorable and it’s messed up that she wrote it. The idea behind it that I think must be fairly common for people who are in love, that their lives have unique crossover moments, and there’s this hope/want to believe that you were always going to end up in this place because of all those connections? That’s kind of a complex thing (imo) to express. And she WROTE IT!!!! God. If I were Joe Alwyn I would cry every day.

MAD WOMAN

The fact that Taylor would ever attempt to make me believe this is not about Scooter Braun is insane. I love this song. Proof of concept that you don’t need to yell to show how mad you are.

EPIPHANY

This song is sad. But very interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her write anything like this. I think the back half of this album is a little more experimental.

BETTY

I’m not sure what I’m expected to say here. I know that this song is not actually gay. But I don’t care. It’s country twang from a boy’s perspective and you know what? We’re taking it. We are taking it for ourselves. But also, I love that she chose to write this weird “teenage love triangle” set of songs and that she chose to write none of them from like, her perspective? Right? “August” is James cheating on Betty, “Illicit Affairs” is the other woman, and this is James…when Taylor was 17 she would have written this song from Betty’s perspective. And that’s what we would have got. There’s real growth in storytelling here, and a real interest in expanding the canon of what she’s writing about. It’s really great to see an artist do that. Also the way she sings “The worst thing that I ever did / was what / I did to you.” This whole song is a masterpiece. I hate her.

PEACE

I just learned that Joe Alwyn is a Pisces. I am A PISCES. TAYLOR!!!! WE COULD BE TOGETHER.

I love the “I talk shit with my friends / It’s like I’m wasting your honor.” This song is so adult. She’s in like. Real love bro. BRO. I AM HAPPY FOR HER. BRO!!!!!!

HOAX

I am interested in why this is the last song on the non-deluxe version of the album. I don’t have a lot to say about this but that it reminds me of Wuthering Heights. Also if you wanted to get emo this is probably a good SC song.

#tsweezy #tswizzle #at some point i fucked up her tags

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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years

Text

The Waitress and the Werewolf

Genre: wlw, urban fantasy, original story

Words: 10k

Summary: A waitress and a werewolf share early morning conversations as the wolf comes in starving from her past transformation and the waitress tries to figure out what this muddy, shoe-less stranger is doing there every month.

Website⭐Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon ⭐ WordPress⭐Twitter

May

Mia walked soberly across scraggly yellow grass, scraping the bottom of her feet and making a sharp crunching sound with each step- like someone chewing on granola cereal.

The early morning smelled of dry earth and a colorless warm breeze. The faint wind itself granted no relief for Mia’s prickling skin, a touch like lukewarm milk being poured over sunburns. Everything always burned the morning after, itching like she was swallowing Pop Rocks in her entire body.

Her vision was boneless and strange, senses coming back to Mia in a fuddled mix of colors and sounds. The reds and greens returned in a slow bloody dawn, her nerves lit up one by one from the depths of numbness, and the scents of the world slowly dried up and left her. The sharpest feeling of all though, was the hunger.

The hunger was inevitable. Perfectly ruthless and all-consuming, distracting her from any thoughts of exhaustion or a shower with soap. Ache gnawed at her insides and rumbled with the force of thunder and stampedes.

Mia pushed forward.

The sun was just a suggestion on the horizon, the faintest brushes of light across the treetops. The trees were thin and closely knit together; their eyes seem to watch her warily, perhaps they had tolerated the wolf, but her human feet were not welcome.

She staggered away from them through a dried field, dark, bleak, and wrung out, her eyes trained on the only light in the whole unfriendly area: a yellow neon sign. It blared in the distance, the color of American cheese that was 50% chemicals and the teeth of evil witches in fairy tales.

The eerie neon reminded her of some desolate cyberpunk world that existed exclusively around a single diner in the middle of nowhere. Mia followed the sign like a beacon to wise men looking for saviors or very drunk men seeking toilets.

An empty road sat next to it, a strip of quiet grey with a faded line in the center and a promise of miles of the same.

When a young woman comes lumbering out of the forest with twigs in her hair, bare skin, and moonlight to her back, poets might write romantic lyrics about the glory of innocent womanhood and nature. Or something. The dried blood and mud coating her skin probably ruined the effect.

Mia had tried to clean herself up as best she could. She scrubbed her face, secured her ragged pants and scraps of shirt, located her wallet still tucked deep in her pockets, and wiped her hands down. She became as person passing as she was going to get that night.

The light of the sign drew closer and closer, Mia steadied herself, her system flooded with thoughts of "hungry" and "aaaaaagh." She was used to both feelings.

Mia faltered into the lit parking lot, crossing the boundary between the world of poets and broken brittle grass and into the glow of a squat, long building. It had giant glass windows peering in at a spotless long counter with fixed stools and overstuffed napkin holders. Red shiny booths sat along the walls, their material sparkly and no doubt squeaky when you sat. Black and white photos cluttered the walls, depicting smiling pictures of famous people in the genre of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley.

The whole place was a clear imitation of classic diners that the 1950’s would have spit out by the dozen.

It was empty at this time except for a single man with a knit cap, slumped back, and wearing a pair of sagging pants that could only be described as “doing their best.” Mia assumed he was a late-night trucker drinking coffee and forgetting the world. The restaurant was bright, alien, and a little cheap looking.

Mia didn’t care how it looked. It was roughly five in the morning and this was the only thing open, the only option really. She tucked her head down and steeled her nerves, hyper aware of her dirty bare feet and the fact she looked like she wrestled the sludge-monster from a Ghibli film to get here.

Her stomach complained again, noisy as a garbage disposal, the transformation took more calories than she liked to count. Bodies demanded payment for their fancy parlor tricks.

Mia took a deep breath, looked down at herself, cringed, and then pushed the door open. A bell dinged gently, and she blinked into the blaring white fluorescent lights. She shuffled inside, feeling the cool tiles against her toes and whole body shrinking down. The room smelled of grease and black coffee, faint bleach and the slightest hint of perfume. The perfume reminded her of sunscreen and sugar.

There was a simple kiosk by the door that Mia approached cautiously, a woman stood there with her back turned. She wore a blue collared shirt, fitted jeans, and a red company apron tied around her waist.

“Booth for one,” Mia said automatically, quick and as pleasant as she could.

The waitress turned.

The young woman had exceptionally wide eyes, owl-like and appearing prone to looks such as shock or confusion. Her cheeks were delicate, chin softly rounded, and fine mouth smeared with splotchy lip-gloss. Long copper hair piled high on her head and freckles speckled across every piece of vacant skin.

She caught sight of Mia and made a face at her that could be summarized as “an atheist meeting God and being deeply unimpressed.”

Mia sighed internally; it might be a long few months in Nolan, West Virginia.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Lionel was counting down the minutes until the end of her shift, which was unfortunate for her since it began at five am and ended in eight hours and twenty-eight minutes. She usually tried to avoid counting the time until at least five hours in, but sometimes she indulged herself.

The counting did not in fact improve the work experience, but it did manage to amplify her sheer awareness of time itself and the idea she might be stuck in endless loops. Loop after loop of similar faces, usual complaints, and aching feet.

Lionel was waiting for one minute to pass, and then the next, and the next, but they never really seemed to.

The first two hours of a morning shift were the worst, slow, boring, and the chef was often taking a nap in the back. The late-night truckers didn’t even compliment her eye makeup or try to find out her phone number, home address, social security number, and whether she had a boyfriend or not- and if he was big. Though the last part was a perk.

It was the hour for nobodies, people questioning their own place in time and losing their identity to “five am.” Five am wasn’t a time, it was a place, and they were all one person there, similarly weary, adrift, and waiting for the second hand on the clock to tick forward.

Lionel was listening for the chef turning up his podcast from the back, she hoped to God it wasn’t the one she thought it was. But there was a lot of weird noises going on.

She had 8 hours twenty-four minutes left.

The door chimed, bell echoing dimly. “Booth for one.”

Lionel whipped around, preparing herself for at least a little activity and something to keep her busy. And then she stopped, paused, and held herself very still.

She couldn’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, the monthly weirdos were appearing. The scent of fresh dirt filled the entrance, mud and something distinctly visceral, heady.

A girl looked back at her through short scattered bangs, she had a small mouth and dark olive eyes, meeting Lionel’s gaze with a certain firmness there. Lionel fumbled for her first words.

“Booth for one.” The girl might have said that before, but she repeated it now.

Lionel had a decision to make, and she had to make it quick. She was technically the manager on duty since it was just her and the chef right then, but this felt like something for more of a manager-manager, an adultier-adult.

Lionel cleared her throat and the girl’s eyes darkened, worry lies permeating her sharp face. She pointed down at her tattered clothes, they were streaked in fresh earth and had long tears along the pants cuffs and shirt sleeves. It looked like a war movie where they forgot to add the rest of the set around the actress.

“Construction.” The girl said weakly, pointing down at her neo-grunge appearance. “Hope you all don’t mind.” Lionel pondered on that for a second longer, it was hard to believe. But who hasn’t walked into an establishment completely wrecked and looking for a little bacon? Lionel didn’t have time to judge strangers, she still had twenty minutes left in that hour. She made a snap decision.

“This way,” she turned, spreading a practiced smile across her face like buttering a piece of toast. “Tough morning?” The girl shrugged, “just a bit of a mishap.” Her eyes darted around, “boss gave me the day off after.” Lionel opened her mouth to ask why she didn’t just go home, but it felt a little cruel to poke at her lie.

“Well,” she seated the girl at one of the middle booths, one someone couldn’t see from the front door. “I’ll be your server today.” Lionel placed a menu in front of her and nodded down pleasantly. “Welcome to Millie’s Diner.” “Thanks,” the girl squinted at Lionel’s name tag, “Xena?” Lionel forgot she was wearing one of the other waitress’s name tags, a pastime of sorts. “Like the warrior princess?” Lionel chuckled, touching her hair absently, “Yeah. Exactly like the warrior princess.” The girl’s face lit up for the first time, breaking into something bright and open. “Cool.”

“This job is just my side hustle of course,” she said blithely, “warrior princess gigs don’t pay the bills.” “Naturally,” the girl straightened up in place, a little more life returning to her movements. “Speaking of which,” Lionel flicked her notepad open, “can I get you started with some coffee? Juice?” She shook her head, “just some water.” She went back to mumbling, “and some fried eggs and toast to start with.” “Sounds good,” Lionel started writing.

“Stack of pancakes, do you have those flavored syrup?” “Yeah, blueberry, strawberry, peach,” she kept writing.

“Strawberry then. A plate of bacon, two sausage links, and a, uh, hmm, okay, also a rocky mountain omelet and breakfast burrito. Extra sour cream.” Lionel blinked a couple times, “should I expect anyone else to be joining you?” She asked without missing a beat.

The girl shook her head sheepishly, “nope. Just me.” Lionel looked down at her notes, a silence stretched out a little longer than necessary. “No problem. Yeah.” “Yeah.”

“Well,” Lionel stuffed her pencil back into her apron, “let me put that in for you.” She turned toward the back to prompt Mike to heat up the grill, they were apparently feeding at least three people in one.

“Thanks!”

Lionel slipped away, putting the order in and then watching the strange girl from afar. She was barefoot. She was as muddy as a dust bowl.

When Lionel brought her food over she descended on her breakfast with the fury of a small tractor flattening a field. Lionel surveyed the scene mildly, picking up the empty plates one by one- discarded corpses on a battlefield.

“Are you from around here?” Lionel asked casually as she picked up the third empty plate.

The girl’s eyes rose carefully, she shook her head, “just passing through.” Lionel smiled, “where are you headed?” She shrugged, “I’ll be here for a few months.” She said instead, “and then, um, new construction site after.” She cocked her head to the side, “sounds like an interesting life.” “It’s a life.” The girl smiled slowly, “I don’t suppose you’re from around here, warrior princess?” Lionel’s expression tightened, “trying not to be.” She wasn’t sure why she said something so telling, but it was five am. The sun was barely bleaching the land and everything tasting of faded colors and forgotten things, maybe they were all the same person at that hour- all trying to be from somewhere else right then.

The dirty stranger ate enough for a small army, paid, and disappeared without another word. She tipped 26% on her card and wrote a small note on the receipt: fight some monsters for me, yeah?

There was a sword drawn next to it, and the doodle of a freckly girl with a crown.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

June

Lionel was snapping her mint gum, popping it and then blowing it out as far as she could again. She popped her gum in the same way people shot paint balls after their parent’s divorce, fast, and with a grudge. Something grated just under the surface of her thoughts, digging it's nails in and beckoning with the sweetest fingertips. Just one last one, it said, that’s always the best one.

She popped her gum again.

Lionel had told her mom she could quit anytime she wanted to, but it turned out that addictive smoke filled with chemicals was very much addictive. She tried not to think about taking a cigarette break.

She leaned against the counter and eavesdropped on the cook’s latest podcast; thank the lord he had switched to true crime dramas. Even if they kept making her glance at the windows and think about bolting them shut.

“Alright, this is an interesting case Alice.” Lionel listened with half an ear, “it’s about a woman who swears a mountain lion-man broke into her condo and stole fifty thousand dollars. Can you believe?” The other podcaster made appropriate sounds of alarm.

“She wasn’t even supposed to be home that night, but she walked into her living room only find what she calls a monster. She saw some yellow eyes in the dark, just eyes, and then teeth wi-" Lionel jumped violently when the diner door chimed, startling her out of her contemplation of smoke and eyes in the dark. She looked up jerkily. A hunched, very muddy person stood in the doorway. Her short dusty brown hair was flattened in all directions and eyes downcast.

Lionel’s eyebrows shot into the air, “the dirty girl.” Her eyes snapped up and Lionel covered her mouth quickly. The girl’s shoulders slumped wearily, “I usually prefer Mia.” She rasped dryly, “But I suppose I’m flexible.” Lionel hurried over to the kiosk with the menu’s; the stranger, Mia, was the first customer of Lionel’s shift that day. She stopped in place, opened her mouth, and then closed it again

Lionel straightened up, “Sorry.” She presented her best service-smile, “How are you doing today?” It seemed like a non-question, empty even, but Mia didn't seem bothered.

She gave a slim smile, “hungry.” “I can help with that,” Lionel turned on her heels, “Same booth?” Mia lifted her head, “You remember,” she squinted at Lionel’s nametag, “Hannah?” Her head tilted to the side, “Hannah today?” Lionel shrugged, “Hannah today.” Mia followed her to the booth.

“I’ll be your server this morning,” she said slowly, “did you want to start off with anything to drink?” Mia smiled slowly, “water.” She said hoarsely, “more than one glass if possible.” Lionel nodded briefly and then looked closely at the stranger, “Are…” She frowned slightly, “are you alright?”

Mia looked up at her, something bruised and strange under her expression, “nothing some pancakes can’t fix.” She said easily, “and maybe a name change I suppose, but you seem to have that covered.” Lionel shrugged, “a girl needs a little variety.” “I see,” Mia threaded a hand through her stray hairs, “Hannah and Xena though, claiming all the good ones. What does that leave me with?” Lionel straightened up, “a girl who could use some eggs.” “Yes,” she grinned, “very good. Though a bit of a mouthful, what about Gabrielle? Or Lucy. Short for Lucifer," she chuckled to herself, "now there’s some variety.”

What a strange person, Lionel noted, but she worked at a 24-hour diner close to a highway, she was well aware the world was filled with strange people.

“Even Lucifer needs water.” She said and turned, “I’ll be right back.” Lionel filled up two glasses of water in the kitchen. The cook was still in the middle of his podcast, but he looked up to examine Mia through his kitchen window. “Wait,” Mike squinted, “is that the one that ordered all that food a month ago?” He frowned, “she smelled bad then too.” Lionel rolled her eyes, “this one doesn't smell that bad. Maybe you’re thinking of that egg lady from two months ago, remember? That woman with all those rotten eggs in her purse.” The cook snorted and responded pointedly, “Nanc kicked her out.” “Yeah, yeah,” she turned, “just start up the grill. I have feeling it will be a big order.” “She doesn't even have shoes on!” He grumbled, “do you have a softer heart than I thought or is this some sort of side-effect of you quitting? I told ya, it’ll do stuff to your head.” She used her hip to open the kitchen door, “let’s both quit. I’ll start with smoking, and you start with bitching.” “I swear Li…” He continued grumbling and Lionel walked back over to her table, the girl was stacking sugar pockets on top of each other. She had already eaten three it looked like.

“Here you are,” Lionel placed the water down and took her notepad out of her apron. “Now,” she clicked her pen, “what’ll it be today?” The girl looked up from under her tousled bangs, “I’ll start with the French toast breakfast and a grand slam steak, and then two eggs, and some hash browns. Then add a side of biscuits and gravy and a fruit bowl with yogurt.”

Lionel gave a wry grin, “is that all?” Mia rose to meet the challenge and shook her head, “No.” She looked up, “I’m thinking a banana crepe too or maybe those honey cakes. What do you recommend?” She asked the last part slowly.

“Huh,” Lionel stuck her bottom lip out, “well, I’ve never had either,” she said honestly, “but my dog’s name is Honey Cakes. So, you know.” “Really?” Her eyebrows lifted, “Honey Cakes. What kind of dog is she?” Mia examined her and Lionel shifted in place uncertainly.

“Border collie mix,” she gave a faint smile, “a pain in my ass, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world. Best damn dog this side of the Appalachians.” She looked back to Mia, “do you… like dogs?”

Mia looked off up at the ceiling and high fluorescent lights, “not really.” She said evenly, “but Honey Cakes is a very good name. I’ll have those.” Lionel clicked her pen again, “I’ll get them right out for you.” She felt like she had something more to say, but it didn’t come to her. She retreated into the kitchen.

She handed the order over to the cook, “here.” He looked down at it with a scowl, “oh. Is that all? Three entrees and three sides.” She shrugged, “she implied she might be the devil.” He turned over to the give her a firm look, “then don’t associate with that type, Jesus girl!” Lionel looked away, “I’ll associate with who I like. She tips well.” That was the end of that conversation, just as Mike went back to complaining and a new trucker walked in the front door. Lionel finished the hour.

Mia maintained her tradition, she ate quickly, paid, and slipped out the door without another word. There was a second doodle on the receipt this time, it was simple, a freckled girl holding the leash of dog dripping with something labeled "honey."

“You” it said, “possibly committing identity theft,” and then “Honey Cakes, very likely a good girl.”

Lionel had no other choice but to wander about what drove people to show up at strange hours, call themselves the devil, and draw cute dogs on papers. She guessed it was probably just how the world was and that she shouldn’t linger on it.

She did end up lingering on it though. It danced in between her thoughts of “one last cigarette” and true crime podcasts about break-ins, she wandered about it for a long time.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

July

Heat like hot syrup dripped down Mia’s skin, the sun was barely risen but the oppressive warmth of West Virginia summer was already layering the land with a fanged vengeance. Her reborn body was simmering with its own heat, but Mia’s mind was elsewhere. Something was wrong with her arm.

Sticky fluid ran down her right wrist and she couldn’t help but swallow waves of nausea cutting through her gut as she walked. Mia couldn’t feel the cut yet, not enough of her body was back, but she could tell it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

The trail of hot blood dripped in between her fingertips, the wound wasn’t deep, but it was long- curving elegantly from the soft of her inner elbow to her shoulder. At first, she worried she had been found, that it had been an Arcadian hunters trap, or worse, a pack. She had been so careful, moved around just enough, kept to herself just enough, didn’t linger anywhere.

Mia’s heart thudded painfully in her chest as her mind flew to images of being scented or tracked, gutted or recruited.

Luckily, she retraced the wolf’s steps and found a broken tree branch with some blood and a bit of clothing stuck to it, she exhaled in relief when it all smelled like her own. The dumb dog part of her seemed to have run into a tree; Mia opted to ignore the cut for now.

She turned toward the familiar highway.

Why does the wolf drag me all the way back to this road? All the way back to the neon sign in the dark? She didn’t have an answer for that.

Mia wandered thoughtlessly back toward the 24-hour diner in the middle of nowhere, she was almost relieved to see the same waitress on duty that night. Does she ever take the day off?

She entered the establishment quietly, feet padding soft on the cold tiles and shoulders hunched as she approached sheepishly from behind. Hannah/Xena/mystery-waitress was attending two other customers. Mia found herself sprouting a tiny smile to the other woman’s back, “booth for one.” The waitress was filling up a coffee cup, two older men in jean jackets and frowns sat at the counter, pointedly ignoring Mia. Xena/Hannah turned slowly.

“Oh my God,” the waitresses mouth fell open, her expression blanking quickly. “You’re bleeding.” Mia hadn’t felt it yet, but she looked down anyway, blood spread down her entire forearm the way tree roots seep into dirt. It was much more than she remembered. “Oops.” She said lamely, realizing that she was surely pushing her luck with this latest antic. “Uh,” she scratched the back of her neck with her good hand.

The waitress put her coffee pot down, “are you-” Mia cut her off before she could finish the thought, “let me just go tidy this up.” She put her finger up, “One sec. Promise not to bleed on your nice floors, just,” She hesitated, “save me a booth.” It somehow made her stomach sink to think of being formally kicked out of this place, though she was no stranger to such things.

“That’s gotta hurt,” the waitress frowned, “don’t tell me there was another accident on your construction site.” Mia took a step backward and didn’t meet her eye, “one second. Right.” She tried to slip out the door, but to her dismay someone else was just behind her, the odds were against her that morning in more than one way. She slid into the corner as the door dinged open and a couple walked through, looking exhausted and irritated. “I told you to take 167.” The woman swore at the man.

“Look Julie, I need coffee and then we can discuss your mother’s original directions.” “I told you not to listen to my mother!”

The waitress gave Mia one last forlorn look and then seated the young couple, Mia slipped out the door and into the dark of the parking lot. She hurried over to the side, past two large trucks and one minivan. Mia planted herself on the hard concrete, neon sign to her back and body hunched over, she tried to tear off a section of her already ragged shirt.

Mia heard not all wolves went completely wild during the moon, that they didn’t roll in dirt, run into trees, and do God knows what every time. She heard they had packs though, and den mothers that kept them all in line.

Mia had no interest in staying in line, however much she resented waking up starving with leaves in her hair.

She inhaled sharply through her teeth when she moved her right arm and a stab of pain shot right up into her shoulder. Her body was becoming fully hers again, she whimpered, “come on,” she tried to move so she could bandage herself, “just this one thing.” She fiddled with her strip of shirt, trying to stop-up the wound while cursing at herself for several long minutes. She tensed every muscle in her body when she heard footsteps approach from behind, Mia sat up perfectly straight and tried not to panic. “Hey there,” a voice called, “you might try not getting gangrene out here.” Mia looked over her shoulder, the waitress was holding out a wet rag and what appeared to be Neosporin. Mia looked blankly back at her.

The waitress joined her at the edge of the parking lot, “I won’t pry.” She said simply, “but you’re gonna want to actually clean that up.” Mia just kept looking, her mouth pinched shut. “It’s not what you think.” She said lowly, and then turned her face away.

“You don’t know what I think,” the waitress sounded wary, “mostly I think credit card insurance is a scam, NSYNC was the best band of the last two decades, full stop, and spam gets a worse rep than it deserves.” Mia couldn’t help but grow a small laugh, “is that all?” The waitress knelt to the ground, crouching in her fitted jeans and looking off into the dry yellow fields. “No, I’ve got more.” Mia shifted in place, “spam is disgusting.” The waitress snorted, “have you had it in rice with eggs and cheese? No, and I don’t accept unsourced opinions.”

Mia’s shoulders untensed, she watched her closely, the light of the newborn sun and ancient sign bathed her freckles in a mix of oranges and yellows. The shadows were long and shifting around them and she seemed like the strangest thing of the night.

“Well alright,” Mia reached out, “you sound like you cite your sources, I’ll take your magic germ-killer.” She shifted toward her, “though I don’t usually trust witchcraft or such.”

The waitress handed over the rag first, carefully passing it to Mia’s good hand. “You’re the one that called herself Lucifer.”

Mia shook her head, “Mia is fine too.” She said firmly, “and I was only trying to keep up with...?” Mia leaned over and squinted into the light, “Carol today?” The waitress gave a small smile, “Carol today.” Mia leaned her head back, exposing her neck to the warm air. “Can I choose your next one?” “Absolutely not.” Mia chuckled and lifted the warm rag to her cut, trying to wipe out the grime and clear away the trail of thick dried blood. She flinched and gritted her teeth when she got to her upper forearm, a burn eating its way into her muscle, she wrinkled her nose and exhaled slowly.

“Oh, give it here,” the waitress snapped, “I only have a fifteen minute break and I’m not being accused of stealing company property if I leave this out here with you.” Mia scowled, “I would give it back.” The waitress, Carol today, took the rag and scooted over to start dabbing and clearing it out, she mumbled to herself as she did. “Really.” Mia curled into herself slightly but let her work, the feel of the warm water and soft touch making her squirm slightly. The waitress paused, “this will sting.” That was all the warning the waitress gave before Mia was yelping, a fresh sting bursting over her whole arm as she slathered disinfectant on the area. Mia shifted in place, looking up at the sky and only twitching a little, the waitress had a big grin on her face.

“And here I thought you’d be all brooding and tough.” She whispered to herself.

Mia stuck her bottom lip out, “I’m not immune to Neosporin, thanks.”

The waitress laughed and then got something out of her back pocket, “where are you from again?” “North.” Mia said shortly, “north-north.”

“First time in the states then?” She hummed, “not at all.” The waitress lifted three band aids in the air, “we’re out of big ones.” She explained, “think about home or something while I put them on.” “I’m not that hurt,” Mia and looked away, “and,” she paused, and something subdued, soft, entered her tone, “thank you for this.” She swallowed thickly, “I didn’t even know I tipped this well.” She snorted gently, “don’t mention it. Now… Hold still.” She delicately applied the three band aids, plastering them up the long cut that ran from her elbow to her shoulder. Mia flinched but held herself still as the waitress worked, it was a quick process done by nimble hands.

“Watch that now.” The waitress said with a gentle pat to the band aids. “You’ll want to change them later.” Mia met her gaze briefly- the waitress’s eyes were large, glimmering, hazel. “I will.”

They sat in silence for a long moment after she finished, looking off into the grasses now glowing golden in the light and waiting for something. The waitress scratched her chin, Mia watched her closely. She spoke in a hush, it felt like the moment for such things, “did you need to go in?” She inhaled, long and noisy. “No.” She looked down at her feet, “give me a moment.” They waited once more, hovering over something. The waitress blinked, “I wanna smoke.”

Mia wrinkled her nose, “okay?” She glanced over to her, “I’m trying to quit.” She reached into her pocket and seemed to dig up a slim, nearly broken cigarette. “Do you mind? Last one.” Mia reached out hesitantly, “you just said you’re trying to quit.” “I want to quit,” she looked down at the end of the white stick. “Yeah. I really do.”

She brought the cigarette to her lips and looked visibly upset, Mia plucked it back out of her mouth. “Then do it.” Mia took the cigarette from the waitress and put it into her tattered pocket, the waitress exhaled and nodded, they both stood up together to go back into the restaurant.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Lionel found an extra forty dollars added to her tip that day, her pride smarted from the display, but her wallet was more than hungry enough for it. There was another picture drawn on the receipt this time.

Thanks for the save :)

Buy yourself some new disinfectant or spam I guess. I’ll see you around, warrior princess Carol-Hannah.

-Mia.

Lionel shouldn’t, but she did. She stuffed the receipt into her apron until she could take pictures of it on her phone and hide that away too.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

August

Mia brought flowers. It was stupid, she knew it was stupid, but flowers were how you thanked people, right? Whenever her mom got mad her dad always brought flowers, got down on one knee and said "thanks for being the honey to my milk" or something just as foolish.

Mia was not going to say that. She was however going to thank the waitress very politely, hand over some flowers, and do it all much more presentably than usual. She’d be ready this time.

She had resigned herself to the fact that the wolf wanted to end up around this highway, dropping Mia off in the middle of the woods somehow always close to the diner. She didn’t question the animal. She was long past that.

Mia set up a box, placed where she could find it with extra clothes, baby wipes, and a pair of good shoes. She made sure she was prepared this time.

It was hid in a part of the woods where wildflower’s grew in bundles, vicious in their pursuit of the sun and unhindered by any walls or roads. Mia looked at them for a long moment, transfixed by their scraggly long stems and purple blossoms. She had grown up in the city and things like them almost made her glad she left.

She gathered up the purple flowers one by one, feeling the grainy stems and watching the sun rise over their silky delicate heads. Fastened together they were unkempt and crooked, but Mia had an odd feeling the waitress might even like that.

After gathering more than a dozen she headed toward the empty dry field and the glow of a silent building. Mia had taken her time gathering the plants and actual cars were driving up the road by then, either having just pulled off the highway or found themselves terribly lost.

Mia didn’t pay them much mind, she couldn’t feel the brittle grass against the soles of her feet for once and she was on high on her own purpose. That purpose certainly involved toast and hash browns first, but something a little more as well.

She strode into the diner, spine upright and chest puffed out, planning the first words she would say to the waitress. She hoped the first words back would be "you clean up nice," but there were only so many moments in life that could be like the movies.

Mia deflated like a popped balloon when a different woman turned around as the door dinged, a different woman with bright blue eye shadow and rose-bud lips. A different woman who wore the apron.

“Oh,” Mia’s flowers fell to her side and her smile fell with it.

The new waitress, Tilda the tag said, didn’t even bat an eye, Mia was wearing shoes this time- she wasn’t the strangest person in the joint anymore.

“Table for one?” Tilda asked as she reached for the menus.

Mia could only look around, somehow hopeful in a small way. “No,” she found herself saying, and then her stomach grumbled. “Yes.” “Alright, this way,” the waitress seemed nonplussed, “gonna be a hot one today.” “Yeah,” Mia could feel her chest concaving, this wasn’t how the scene went in her head. “It’s going to be terrible.” “I hear ya’,” Tilda sat her down and placed the menu gingerly in front of Mia, “my name is Tilda, I’ll be server today. What can I get you started with?” Mia looked down at her flowers, and then back to the woman. “Um.” Tilda glanced at the present now too, “or are you waiting for someone?” Mia just shook her head, “I had… a question.” She said stiltedly, her tongue running away with her.

Tilda raised one very fine eyebrow up into the air, “shoot.” Mia took a deep breath, “I had a waitress here a month ago, and uh, sometime before that. She went by Xena or Hannah or Carol…” Mia realized she really didn’t have a chance. She didn’t even have her real name. “She’s freckly?” Tilda just nodded shortly, “Name changer? I know her, she’s worked here forever. She’s out today though.”

“Oh,” Mia lifted her chin, “Is she… alright?” Mia wasn’t sure if she was crossing a line or not, “a friend told me to give her these.” She indicated the flowers. Both of Tilda’s eyebrows rose like questions marks now, perfectly in tune with each other. “I wouldn’t worry.” Tilda played with her pen, flipping it back and forth in her fingers, “she’s a piece of hardwood that one. Heard she was a bit of a mess on the phone, but she’ll be back soon.” Tilda’s eyes darted to the flowers, “though maybe Li will like those, she’s out in Nolan I think.” Mia sat with that for a long moment, words echoing in her head, was a bit of the mess on the phone.

Mia was reminded she didn’t know anything about this girl, mostly that the woman had bad opinions on things and helped strangers out on their worst nights.

“Should I leave you with the menu?” Mia shook herself out of her thoughts, “No, I’ll start with a bowl of oatmeal, hash browns, and a plate of pancakes with…”

The flowers wilted next to her.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

This is a bad idea. It is definitely, very much, a terrible, bad idea.

Mia Kotsiopoulos moved to the outskirts of Nolan, West Virginia in order to disappear, places like this tended suck the memory out of anything. But this was definitely going to be memorable.

She stood outside a beige building wearing oxford shoes, brown slacks that went to her shins, and a short-sleeve blue button-up. It was much better than her usual "tatters and questionable hygiene" approach.

She had even showered before she showed up.

But nonetheless, she had shown up to a service-workers house in the middle of the day, holding flowers. She never thought the movie she played out in her head would be the "creepy stalker" variety.

Mia was standing outside a mini condo with a beige outside and beige door and a scraggly bush in the front. A house cat peered at her from one of the windows across the street and the sun beat hot against her neck from up above.

She stared at a door with cheap silver numbers on the front and flap for mail, it looked unassuming and quiet. It was in a small neighborhood that was made smaller by the size of the town itself; Mia had followed the scent of sunscreen perfume and grease all the way here.

She tried to deny in her head that she memorized the waitress’s scent, but that would be a bold-faced lie at this point. She kept staring at the door.

The cat hissed at her from across the way and Mia hung her head, “what am I doing?” She turned to leave, she wasn’t this, she promised she wouldn’t be.

She crept back toward her Mitsubishi and slammed her wildflowers in the passenger's seat, trying to suppress any nascent feelings bubbling up. All she did was bandage your arm, Mia reminded herself, it was nothing.

Then she heard a voice calling, “Honey Cakes!” The voice carried, “Honey-Honey!” Mia lifted her chin up and peered down the long sun baked street, a figure stood cupping her hands around her mouth and wearing a fluffy lilac robe. The figure looked left and right, walking frantically in Mia’s direction without looking at her. “Here girl! Honey Cakes.” “Oh,” Mia straightened up, her mouth making a small perfect circle. The waitress looked visibly distraught, her eyes red-rimmed and long hair undone and tumbling lankly down her back. Her robe had a yellow stain on the sleeve and a thin nightshirt peaked out from underneath, crumpled and forgotten.

Mia took a couple uncertain steps forward; the waitress looked every which direction on the ground before she noticed Mia. Her eyes went wide, “you.”

Mia suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands, or face, or any part of her body. “Are you missing your dog?” She asked quickly. The waitress seemed to take a long second to respond, frowning slightly and probably weighing this all in her head. Maybe she was thinking of calling the police on one of her customers randomly showing up near her house.

Then she nodded hesitantly, “yeah…” “I was just on a walk,” Mia tried to justify her presence, “and I heard you calling out.” The waitress touched her messy hair and looked down at her feet, they were bare. “Cool. Alright. Enjoy your walk.”

Mia straightened up, “also,” she struggled, her face flushing slightly. “I wanted to thank you. Really thank you.”

The waitress seemed to look at her for the first moment, eyes focusing out the depths of their worry. “Don’t mention it,” she said with a familiar breezy note to her voice, “only a dick would leave you out there to bleed out.” “I don’t know about that,” Mia rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously, “most people probably wouldn’t even let me eat there in my state the first time.” The waitress shrugged loosely, “most people suck.” Mia gave a newfound smile, “can I help you look for your dog?”

She paused again, lips puckering and noticeably bare of makeup that day. She gave a tight nod, “you have good eyes?” “No,” Mia said simply, “but I can, uh, I can help.” The waitress gave her a perplexed look, “alright, yeah, this way.” They walked down the sidewalk together and the waitress pointed around. “I lost her a night ago…” She said weakly, “it’s been almost 72 hours.” Her voice sounded strained and fragile.

Mia looked both directions, “I can definitely help. Does she respond to a whistle?” The waitress nodded, “I trained her with my brother, he’s big on dogs. Before she became just mine, he used to do this big wolf whistle to get her to come," she smirked in a private way, "he was such a show-off.” Mia broke into a fond expression, “K.” She wet her lips, put two fingers in her mouth, and let out a truly impressive sound, a ringing golden whistle that echoed down the street like a shot arrow.

The waitress let out a whistle of her own in response, “woah.” “Honey Cakes!” Mia called next, “Honey.” They walked down the cracked sidewalk and toward the center of town, Mia tried not to stare at the other girl, and tried even harder not to bump into her. It was a long walk.

The waitress started slowing down once they passed the post office, ten minutes had passed by then and she had started flagging, her chin drooping down toward her chest and expression cracking like porcelain.

Mia tried to move quick, “we’ll find her.” She reassured softly, “I’m sure she’s looking for you too.” The waitress shook her head, she closed her eyes and took a jerky turn down a narrow alley, walking purposefully ahead, but making no noise or move to call for her dog. Her shoulders sloped into two perfect arched hills, trembling slightly.

“Wait,” Mia chased after her, “it’s only been a night, dogs come back from much longer trips than this.”

The waitress put her face in her hands, “it’s my fault.” She said, voice wobbling, “it’s all my fucking fault. I left the door open.” Mia reached out toward her, suddenly unsure of what to do. “Anyone could do that. We can fix it.” The waitress sniffed and shook her head violently, “I was yelling on the phone. She hates when I yell, and her dinner was late. I should have known this would happen! She deserves better, I can’t even keep one fucking thing right.” Her voice was wet now and heavy.

Mia risked putting her hand on the other woman’s shoulder, “hey, hey now,” she spoke softly, as if to not to spook a frightened deer. “I’m sure she knows you love her, and it was just a bad night. I’m sure she wants to come home.” The waitress made a tiny, hiccuping sound and turned her large hazel eyes on her, watery and full. “I promised her I’d buy a place with a big yard by now. I promised, and,” she wiped at her face, “I lied. And kept lying and forgetting. And now she’s gone.”

Mia took a deep breath, “are carrying her leash? Or any of her things?” The question seemed to surprise the waitress out of her self-pity, “any of her things?” Mia just nodded, the waitress reached into her pocket and produced a yellow collar. “I take her collar off when we’re at home since she hates wearing it.” Misery was apparent in the waitress's tone.

“Okay,” Mia centered herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in through her nose. “Alright.” She also shouldn’t do this; it wasn’t something she allowed herself to do. Mia tolerated the wolf when it forced itself out once a month but tolerating and tapping into were two different things. This was fraternizing with hostile forces.

Mia’s sense of smell was already acute, but this was going take something fantastical.

She couldn’t "turn" in broad daylight like this, but the full moon was simmering just above, barely contained by the blanket of silky blue sky. Mia could feel the cool, surging power latent in her veins. Just a little, she promised herself, just enough for this.

Her sense of smell piqued all at once, sensations rushing in like a floodgate being opened and storming the fort. Everything came into focus, the coffee shop next door brewing bitter smells, the lady down the street lathering her hands with coconut lotion, old meats, rotten fruits, sneakers.

She reeled back, taking a step toward the walls and clutching her chest. Mia quickly collected herself, took the collar in hand, and lifted it to her nose, taking a deep breath.

“This way.” She started walking decisively back toward the street, not sparing a look toward the waitress.

“Wait,” the other woman stumbled after her, “where are you going?” “Follow me,” she said, “we’re going to find your dog.” She glanced over her shoulder and wet her lips, “trust me.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Lionel had no idea what she was doing. She had no idea what she was doing last night when she yelled at her credit card company for an hour and no idea what she was doing when she called into work that morning for a "personal day." She never took work off.

She couldn’t lose Honey Cakes though, she just couldn’t.

The "five am woman" was back, Mia, and Lionel was watching her wide shoulders as she strode fixedly down the street. Her short hair was styled now, sides cropped short and bangs smoothed back, she was wearing pressed, clean clothes that flattered her sturdy figure.

Her skin was moon-bright under all the mud Lionel had seen coating her before. She had a mole on her chin and clear blue eyes in the daytime.

She cleaned up nicely.

Lionel, however, did not. She was fully aware that she was in her “lazy day robe” and her nose was no doubt still leaking, it couldn’t have been a worse day.

“No, I’m serious,” she spoke to the other woman’s back as they strode out of town, “where are we going?” Mia didn’t look back, “we’re getting close.”

They left the main street and passed the last few houses in the town of Nolan, population 1,022. The rest of the houses clustered farther back and further out.

They were on bare road soon, where the sidewalk disappeared, and the world stretched out into trees, old tires, and white shacks in the distance that hosted scavengers and drug deals. Lionel followed mutely behind, she didn’t like crying, she liked it less when it was in front of other people.

“So,” Mia spoke up gently, “when did you get Honey Cakes?” Lionel ducked her head down. “When my grandma died.” She said without inflection, “My brother thought it would cheer the family up… and then she just became my dog.” Mia looked over her shoulder and nodded, “what’s she like?” “Terrible,” Lionel rubbed her face, “but she’s so sweet I forgive her for chewing up all my good shoes anyway.” Mia chuckled and looked down at Lionel’s bare feet, her face flushed slightly. “Would you believe me if I said a dog got rid of all my shoes too?” She smoothed her hair back, “twinsies.” Lionel couldn’t help but grow a small smile, “why do you think I let you in? Kindred spirits.”

Mia laughed, a round and full sound. “I’m not sure about that.” She paused, “but I would like to help.” Lionel became somehow even more perplexed, where are we going?

“I’m trusting you,” she said slowly, “I don’t follow just anyone out into uninhabited areas without my phone on me.” Mia’s back muscles bunched together, “it’s not uninhabited,” she pointed ahead, “there, that’s what I thought.” A stray mechanics shop appeared just around the corner, white with two garages and a tiny office attached to the side. It probably serviced the locals and whoever was unlucky enough to break down out here.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lionel sped up, “and you think she’s…?” Mia just nodded, “see? Trustworthy.” Lionel lit up, heart suddenly lifting for the first time that day. “If she is really here…” She said slowly, “will you trust me too?” Mia frowned, “what do you mean?” Lionel lifted her head, “my name is Lionel by the way. Lionel Campbell.” “Oh,” Mia smiled, her entire face stretching into an enchanting excitable thing. “Oh, that’s a great name.” Lionel shifted in place, “Xena is better.” Mia shook her head, “completely not. I love lions.” “And not dogs?” Mia looked ahead, “Maybe some dogs.”

Lionel looked ahead too as the mechanics shop approached like a mirage, she was about to prompt Mia again, but a stray bark coursed through the air. A familiar high-pitched sound that was equally fussy and warm.

“Honey Cakes?” She called carefully, and then she heard another bark, “Honey-Honey!”

She started running as she saw the face of a floppy-eared brown and yellow dog stick her head up in the office window. “Girl!” Lionel was sprinting toward the door, hands outstretched, another bark followed.

They had found her dog.

—　❈　—

The mechanic had found Honey Cakes wandering by the side of the road the night before, seemingly turned around and confused. He brought her to his shop and gave her some food and water, he had planned to bring her to the nearest shelter the next day. Lionel had gotten there just in time.

Honey Cakes jumped up on her the second the door opened, and she wrapped her arms around the dog, “I missed you too!” She could have cried again.

She thanked the mechanic and put the collar back on her happy, dumb dog. Honey Cakes ran around in circles and barked at her, tongue out. It was a muggy warm day, but it somehow felt lighter than ever.

Afterward, Lionel, Mia, and the dog retreated toward the wild green grass near the shop, sitting down in a field to rub the dog’s belly.

“Thank you,” Lionel gushed again, “I would have never found her if that mechanic had drove her all the way to the shelter in Edward’s Town.” Mia wasn’t looking at her, staring off into the distance instead, “no problem.” She grinned, “Lionel.” Lionel stretched out across the thick grass, still petting her shaggy friend. “Well you’ve got my name now.” She steadied her gaze, “what’s your magic trick?” Mia turned in profile, angling her head slightly toward her, expression blank, “what do you mean?” Lionel leaned forward like it was a secret, “how’d you find my dog?” Her eyes went wide, “are you psychic?” Mia chuckled, but it wasn’t exactly a happy sound. “You got me,” she lay back down in the grass, stretching out spread eagle and bathing in the sheets of sunshine. “I’m psychic.” Lionel turned over on her side to face her, “A psychic who sniffs things and follows their tracks?” She said quietly, “and always shows up during the full moon covered in dirt?” Mia glanced back at her, eyes filling with panic and brow denting inward. “Lionel…” Lionel just shook her head, crawling up closer to her. “I never listened much to rumors and newscasters.” She spoke ever so softly, “it’s not my business.” She gave her a smile, a real one, “all I know is that you found my dog.” Mia shifted away from her, she didn’t seem to be breathing. “It isn’t...I.” Lionel reached out, clamping down around the other woman’s arm, “where are you from, really?” “Ottawa.”

Lionel just nodded, “Good. How do you like Nolan so far?” Mia relaxed, just ever so slightly. “Well.” She said simply, words slow and pointed. “Best service I’ve gotten anywhere so far.” Lionel rolled her eyes spectacularly, “Careful,” she said dangerously, “Honey Cakes could get the wrong idea. She bites people who she thinks are even close to flirting with me. A real puritan like that.” “It’s okay,” Mia scratched the sprawling Honey Cakes behind the ears, “I have a way with dogs.” Lionel ducked her head down, a flush creeping up her neck. This isn’t good, she swallowed. “So, what do you do, Mia? Dog whispering?” “God no,” Mia sniffed, “Freelance coding, but I’m hoping to switch jobs when I, you know, grow up. Past thirty I’m thinking. Maybe forty.” Lionel laughed, spirits lifting, “and what would you like to be when you grow up?"

Mia's eyes gleamed impishly, “I’m thinking tiny foods food blogger or custom shoelace knitter, that sort of thing.”

“Something practical,” she nodded solemnly.

Mia grinned so wide it looked like it might eat her face, “butterfly-dust expert maybe, professional harmonica tuner, wild hamster tamer.”

Lionel giggled, actually giggled, "that's what I was gonna guess! You took mine." They snickered together, and something was so light in the air it felt like it might burst. Honey Cakes didn’t even try and bite the new girl, not that she ever would.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

September

Lionel still didn’t know what she was doing, but something about this had become increasingly right. Increasingly like something she couldn’t escape and didn’t want to. The minute hand had ticked forward.

It was the end of her shift on a Friday, she kept glancing out the windows and checking the streets. Tilda was examining her, “why are you so jittery, Li?” She poked her as they passed each other, “this from the quitting? I’m with you there, Brad won’t even look at me if I sneak one nowadays.”

“No,” Lionel kept her eyes on the window, “it’s nothing." “Nothing,” Tilda just grinned with her bright red knowing smile. Lionel wrinkled her nose, “this is normal.” She looked out the door again, “I’m acting normal.” Her expression softened, the sun was far in the sky and it would only be twenty more minutes, she's coming.

Tilda laughed like aluminum foil being crinkled, “damn. I knew Mikey said you were smiling more, but I’ll have whatever stuff you’re on now.” Lionel rolled her eyes, picking up a stack of dirty plates. “It’s called a good work attitude.” She turned on her heels, “try it.” Tilda laughed again, huge and exuberant, Lionel had a weird notion she would miss that if she ever did manage to leave.

Another fifteen minutes passed, Lionel’s heart had moved into her throat and the world was turning in slow motion. Somehow, she didn’t mind.

She felt like she was giving herself whiplash turning each time the door dinged, she was only finally right the fiftieth time. A woman came through the door wearing a pair of slacks, oxfords, and a clean purple shirt buttoned to her throat, she smiled with all her teeth.

Mia was holding an array of flowers and a small box. “Hey.” She said gently and Lionel hurried over.

“I’ve got five minutes left,” she whispered, “but I don’t think they’ll notice.” Mia tilted her head to the side.

“Take your time,” there was something reserved in Mia's tone, her voice deep and sending a shiver down Lionel’s spine.

“Take a table, anywhere.” She ran to the back room to sign out, proper hours be damned. This was close enough.

“Is that what this was about?” Tilda commented, she still had five hours left in her shift and was a little grumpy for it. She squinted at the young woman seated in a middle booth.

Lionel just shook her head, “no judging. It’s not about anything.” She grinned so widely it felt like it might hurt, she winked. “Yet.”

“I ain’t one to judge," Tilda said loosely, "the lord made girl’s like that to tempt nun’s themselves.” She waved a hand in the air and snorted, “it’s a step-up from Rickey, I’ll give you that. This one actually know their way around a downstairs department store?”

“Oh my God,” Lionel threw her apron into her purse, “I’ll see you later Tilda.” She waved, “Tell Mikey absolutely nothing is happening.”

“He thinks that girl is a demon or something.” “I know!” She ran through the door, “not even close.” Tilda was just laughing again.

Lionel darted up to Mia's table with wings on her heels, “Come on.” She came grabbed for Mia’s left hand, “Let’s get out of here. There’s a farmer’s market in Edward’s today, Edwards! I’ll pay for the gas.” “Wait,” Mia said stiltedly, the reserved tone was back. “Wait. Just a moment. I wanted to… well, I have this for you.” Lionel blinked a couple times, “Ah, Mia,” she grinned, “you know I love flowers, but I’m running out of vases. I’ll be filling the bathtub with them soon.” Mia shook her head, and suddenly Lionel recognized the diving sadness behind her gaze. “Want to sit for a moment?” Lionel frowned and folded into the booth across from her, heart sinking. This was supposed to be the day. After a few dinner’s out at other restaurants and a trip to the fair Lionel had decided it had been long enough, she was ready to kiss a wolf.

But maybe Mia knew that.

“What is it?” She held herself perfectly still.

Mia looked at her hands, tapping her short nails on the table. “Open this.” She passed a present to Lionel, it was elaborately wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper and the bow on top might as well have been a work of art onto itself. Uh-oh. Lionel hesitantly took the box, she picked at the ribbon on the top tepidly, then she put it down again. “No,” she lifted her chin up, “I won’t.” Mia’s eyes went wide, a half-hearted smile followed, “I promise it’s not a dead bird or something.” She said delicately, “I’m not actually that much like Honey Cakes.” Lionel shook her head, “I know what this is.” She huffed, “and I’m not having it.”

“What is it?” Mia blinked rapidly and then sighed. Lionel made a face, “it’s only been a few months,” she whispered, “passing through should take longer than that I say. A little longer. I have an uncle who’s been passing through here since ‘75.” Mia’s head fell, broken down on the spot, she looked away. “You’re too smart for your own good.” “I know a going-away present when I see one.” Lionel made a face at her, “I suppose you were hoping I was an idiot.” “No!” Mia squirmed in place, “it’s one of those things I really like about you... it just makes this so much harder.” “Then don’t do it,” Lionel swiftly looked toward the road outside. Mia sighed, reaching for Lionel’s hand and taking it. She stroked the top of Lionel's hand with her thumb, “don’t worry.” She whispered, “your life will be better for it. Wolves… are carnivores. They eat everything good whole."

“They’re pack animals too,” Lionel took her hand back and looked down at her lap, “are you just going to keep being alone after this? Is that really better than being with…” She hummed for a long moment, “you know.”

She looked up just in time to see Mia bow her head, “nothing would be better than that.” She reached for her again, “but we can’t.” Lionel’s pulse spiked, I can't do this, it was too much, she couldn’t. She sprang to her feet, hopping up and slipping out of the booth and dashing for the door. She ran out into the parking lot and took deep gasping breaths. “Goddammit.” Mia ran after her, “Lionel.” She called desperately. “Lionel, you know what I am. You already guessed a long time ago; I have a target on my back.” “So?” Lionel looked up at the puffy white clouds and gritted her teeth.

“Wolves are bad news. Lone one’s are even worse…” Mia struggled with her words. “I have to keep moving. There are hunters, and other packs. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Lionel turned, slowly, carefully, around. “But it happened.” She whispered, “you really want to go back?” Mia shook, barely moving at all. “I can’t do it to you. I can’t, it’s not a stable life.” Lionel’s hair tickled her shoulder tops as she moved, “fuck stable.” She took a bold step toward her, “I let you into my restaurant, all grubby and sad-looking. Let me in now.” Mia didn’t move back, “God, this is hard.” She murmured, “I won’t be able to replace any of it you know.” Her brow dented, “you, arguing with telemarketers, cooking everything with that weird cheese, yelling at the TV. I won’t be able to replace it.” Lionel put her hands out, “then don’t.” Lionel crept closer and Mia didn’t pull away, her expression softened. Lionel slowly rested her arms around Mia’s neck, inhaling her earthy scent and drinking in her clear eyes, Mia let her. It was bright out, bright and heart-pounding, but Lionel found a way forward, moving their faces so close together it stung.

Mia put a hand through Lionel’s hair and her breath tickled her cheek. “You might regret this.” Lionel shrugged, “try me.” And then they came together, golden and impossible. She kissed her, a sugar rush of lips and firm touches, they had been waiting for this. Mia’s fingers pressed into her waist and drew her close, kissing like an undertow with no ground to catch yourself on.

Lionel kissed back, hungry and soft for it, soft with the warm breathy sighs and movements and all the things she hadn’t hoped for. She got lost in the heady world of a girl and something she didn’t know was possible.

She was new again.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Mia drew one last thing on a receipt for the diner: thanks for everything. I’ll return her in one piece.

Lionel added something as well: I won’t.

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

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#wlw #werewolves #urban fantasy #f/f #original story #sapphic #lesbian romance #femslash #original writing #the waitress and the werewolf #my work #i thought I should finally post this here

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laresearchette · 3 years

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Friday, May 21, 2021 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: 1971: THE YEAR THAT MUSIC CHANGED EVERYTHING (Apple TV+) THE ME YOU CAN’T SEE (Apple TV +) TRYING (Apple TV +) INSIDE PIXAR: UNPACKED (Disney +) SEE US UNITE FOR CHANGE: THE ASIAN AMERICAN FOUNDATION (TAAF) IN SERVICE OF THE AAPI COMMUNITY (MTV Canada) 8:00pm PAUSE WITH SAM JAY (HBO Canada) 9:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT INSIDE THE MET (PBS Feed) TRACKING A KILLER (TBD - Lifetime Canada)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME/CRAVE/NETFLIX CANADA/CBC GEM:

AMAZON PRIME 5x COMEDIA (Season 1) P!NK: ALL I KNOW SO FAR SOLOS (Season 1) CBC GEM CALL MY MIDWIFE (Season 6) CBC MUSIC PRESENTS: MY JUNOS MOMENT CBC MUSIC PRESENTS: IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK CBC MUSIC PRESENTS: THE INTRO DNA KEYBOARD FANTASIES: THE BEVERLY GLENN-COPELAND STORY MY BIG FAMILY FARM (Season 2) TWENTIES

CRAVE TV A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1984) DESPICABLE ME DOG DAYS I PROPOSE WE NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN AFTER TONIGHT KNOWING MASTERCHEF CANADA (Season 7) MIRROR MIRROR MY GIRL NANCY DREW OPEN SEASON PARENTAL GUIDANCE SUPERGIRL TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES II: THE SECRET OF THE OOZE TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES III THUNDERSTRUCK WANDER DARKLY WONDER WOMAN 1984

NETFLIX CANADA JURASSIC WORLD CAMP CRETACEOUS (Season 3) THE NEIGHBOR (Season 2)

2021 WORLD MIXED DOUBLES CURLING (TSN2) 2:30pm: Canada vs. RCF (TSN2) 7:30pm: Czech Republic vs. Canada

I PROPOSE WE NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN AFTER TONIGHT (Crave) 6:20pm: Infidelity threatens a promising new relationship between a young man and woman in Canada.

NHL HOCKEY (SN/SN360) 6:30pm: Capitals vs. Bruins - Game #4 (FXX) 7:00pm: Hurricanes vs. Predators - Game #3 (SN/CBC) 10:00pm: Jets vs. Oilers - Game #2 (SN360) 9:30pm: Avalanche vs. Blues - Game #3

MLB BASEBALL (SN1) 7:30pm: Rays vs. Jays (TSN2) 9:30pm: Dodgers vs. Giants

LOVE, BUBBLES & CRYSTAL COVE (City) 8:00pm: Sparks fly between a successful woman and her childhood sweetheart as he helps her improve her business model.

FRIDAY NIGHT THUNDER (APTN) 8:00pm/8:30pm: Joshua Hill has a tough start to the season with a spectacular dust-up involving numerous cars and causing some concern among family and friends. In Episode Two, Derek Miller battles car troubles and a demanding schedule but the sprint car community rallies around him, ending one race night on a high note.

PIT BULLS AND PAROLEES (Animal Planet Canada) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Tragedy strikes after Tia and M2 agree to take two malnourished hounds from a rural shelter; Mariah and Lizzy give two dogs a positive outcome while working through the global pandemic; M2 reveals an exciting new life chapter.

SORTEZ-MOI DE MOI (Crave) 8:05pm: David feels responsible for Alex's misfortunes; Justine makes decisions with serious consequences; Gabriel fears losing custody of Marius; no one has heard back from Mister Hubert; Jean-Marc is hospitalized; Suzy covers things with Émile and Clara.

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN/TSN3/TSN4) 9:00pm: Grizzlies vs. Warriors

DOG DAYS (Crave) 9:00pm: Lovable canines start to influence the careers, friendships and romantic relationships of an anchorwoman, a dog walker, a business owner and other people in Los Angeles.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #friday night thunder #sortez-moi de moi #curling #nhl hockey #mlb baseball #nba basketball

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sitontheground · 4 years

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#WitchesForBLM

So, I know I don't exactly post much, if at all, but in light of recent events in the US the majority of witches on both tumblr and tik tok have decided that on Friday June 5th, we were all going to be casting spells of protection for the protesters as well as hexing and cursing the cops and the white supremacists who oppose them.

While I am not American (I'm from Canada) nor am I a person of color but I have always been one for activism and fighting for the rights of those whose voices aren't heard or are purposefully silenced. I don't post about it because I don't post much of anything at all. This platform, for me, isn't about making my voice heard but appreciating others' work and words. I also don't particularly care for speaking about my craft much because it is something I find very personal and don't much wish to have others peering in on my personal affairs.

And yet, despite my private nature and lack of desire to post about my activism, I have made the decision to share what I did during the full moon to work this cause into my craft.

For any who have questions or complaints about how I did what I did or why, my craft is my own and I just follow what feels right. If you try and do or say anything to me that I feel is in anyway attacking me and my practice I'm just going to block you. You have no place sticking your nose in my work and I'll not thank you for it.

My Full Moon BLM Support Ritual

As a preface, a lot of the ingredients and items I used were already prepared. Most by happenstance as they are things that I typically keep on hand. The only thing I didn't have in my back pocket before I began was one of the sigils I used.

I also meditated facing the south. Facing the direction of the people I wanted to protect.

Ingredients:

Charged water (I used storm water*)

Charged crystal (I used my fluorite point for the reason that it often amplifies my emotions*)

Needle

Black thread

Orange paper**

Purple paper**

Stick of charcoal (for drawing)

Sigil of protection

Sigil to hex the oppressors

Sachet of protection powder***

Music to increase emotion**** (optional, to be played during both halves of the ritual)

Note: both of the sigils that I used will be shown below

I started when I heard whispers from the witchblr community members that I follow about the full moon being used to help the protesters. That day there was a storm where I live so I was already collecting storm water, but I made sure to separate some for the specific intent of using it on the full moon.

Friday night, I gathered my ingredients and created a sigil for protecting the protesters. I am aware that the eclipse would likely have a negative effect on most protection spells, but the spell I used was one that I created and use without the power of the full moon more often than not. The power of the spell comes entirely from a sacrifice I make for it, which I will explain in more detail later.

Take the storm water, the sigil of protection and the protection powder.

Meditate on the sigil to charge it.

Take a pinch of the powder (A Pinch. You don't need more than that!!!) and sprinkle it in the water.

Swirl the water clockwise 3 times to increase the power of the powder while mixing it in (I had the water in a small Mason jar with a lid so I could swirl it in large movements to incorporate the powder properly without spilling)

Take your right index finger and dip it in the water

Drip 3 drops onto the paper with the sigil

Meditate on the sigil again, focusing on the power of the water sinking into the lines of the sigil

Drink the water with the protection powder to cast the spell

Fold the paper with the sigil on it 3 times, being careful not to rip the wet paper, and leave it in a window or outside until daylight.

Note: the protection powder tastes Bad. Really really really bad. This is why a pinch is more than enough. I usually keep something around to wash the taste out of my mouth when everything is all said and done. This time I used hibiscus water, but usually I use tea.

And that's all there is to the first part of the ritual. Really that can be done at anytime for anyone as long as you have a sigil that corresponds with them.

The next part of this was the part where I actually drew upon the power of the moon.

Take the other sigil, the needle and black thread, and the charged crystal.

Meditate with the crystal in your dominant hand and the hexing sigil in your other focusing on the power that the crystal is feeding into you and pushing it out with your intent through the sigil in order to truly focus the energy you're sending out.

Tear the paper with the sigil on it in until it is in small pieces. As you rend it apart, feel the fire of your anger and the anger of all those fighting for this cause and send it out into the world with every tear in the paper.

Using the needle and the black thread, pierce the center of every piece of the paper until they are all strung up.

Bring all of the pieces together on the string and wrap the thread around the 3 times

Tie a knot in the thread.

Wrap the thread and tie the knot 2 more times.

Cut the thread and cast away the bundle of thread and paper however you see fit (burning, burying, tossing in the trash. whatever works for you)

And that’s that on that. I began my work at midnight on the full moon and when I was finished I was exhausted. I had a headache and my hands were shaking and I just wanted to crawl into my bed so much that I almost forgot to ground myself at the end which would have made everything so much worse the next time I woke. If I were to do it again, and I probably will, I’d make sure to give myself some time in between spells, which I did not in this case. In fact, I’d suggest that if you were to attempt something similar to this you should do them completely separately. However, due to that fact that the moon was in Gemini it felt right for me to complete two spells during it.

And now onto the notes.

*In regards to my choices of charged water and crystal, I have to note that I base my practice by what feels right at the moment. I’ve gone into spells with something in my hand that, by the time I get around to using it during the casting process, it no longer feels like the right tool/ingredient to use and I have gone to find what does feel right, or at least what feels best. The use of storm water has to due with how the chaos and anger that comes from the people on the front lines of this movement feels to me like a storm overhead. They were patient and they brewed this storm for centuries, waiting for us to notice it and do something to lessen the blow that it would cause. But eventually, as all storm must, the thunder rang out and the sweeping gales of wind told everyone just what was going on. Storm water, for this particular variation of my protection spell, seemed very appropriate. I used my fluorite point because whenever I’m working a particularly emotional spell, whether it is my emotion or someone else’s, I use this crystal because it amplifies what I’m feeling and it gives that emotion power.

Also this is my fluorite point.

**As most will suspect, the colors of the paper do signify different things, but if you don’t just happen to have colored paper hanging around white paper would work too. Again this was something that I just figured felt right at the time. I used the purple paper for the protection sigil. Purple, to me, is a regal color that signifies wisdom, power and good fortune. I used the orange paper for the hexing sigil because orange is the most infuriating and aggressive color I could think of (psychologically speaking the color orange is the most likely to send a person into a fit of rage).

***Alright, so for most of the above I have been rather vague when it comes to the protection powder, but that’s because it is a recipe of my own creation that I have reliably used for a couple of years now and I’m proud of it. It was one of the first things I ever did when I started my craft and I haven’t ever felt like something that I should spread to the masses. Now, however, I don’t feel that same hesitation when it comes to giving the recipe so here it is.

1 part garlic powder

1 part cumin

2 parts cinnamon

1 park Himalayan pink salt

1 sprig of cedar, dried and crushed as small as you can make it

When I first made this recipe, I didn’t do anything with it besides mix it all together and put it in a small velvet bag that I got with an old pair of headphones. I soon learned that just mixing together a couple of spices doesn’t exactly create a protection spell and thought it a failure. right as I was about to tear the page with the recipe from my spell book, I decided to meditate on it for a while. That night, I took the little bag with the powder into both of my hands and began to meditate. When I came out of it, I realized that 4 hours had passed by and I could feel the energy from the powder in the bag. So, to make long stories short, you have to key this powder to yourself first. Since then, I have used it as a protection for others by using the same powder that I mixed a couple of years ago that has protected me for that long. I take some of that powder and, using the charged water, I key it to the other that I want to protect, and then by drinking the water I am sacrificing the strength of my protection spell in order to cast one on someone else. This is why I didn’t see an issue doing this spell during the eclipse, which I have read can be a force of undoing. I had no issue casting a hex during the eclipse because I wanted to see the undoing of those that I was trying to hex, but the protection spell will not fail because I didn’t pull on the power of the moon.

****Yes, I listen to music while I work. On the night of the full moon, I was listening to Freedom by Beyoncé ft. Kendrick Lamar on repeat during the whole shebang. When I work, I am incredibly focused, so much that even the slightest disturbance to my balance will send the whole spell crashing down at my feet. If I were to work in silence, a single pin drop could cause me to lose focus and the spell could go awry. So, usually I will put on a single song that reflects the work that I am doing. Either that or I go to ambient-mixer.com and find some background sounds that I can customize and put on for myself. I chose the particular song that I did because both artists are POC angd it sends a message that aligns with the intent of both of these spells.

Sigil of Protection

This one I created myself.

Hexing Sigil

This one I did not create myself. The wonderful ceramyn here on tumblr created it, so this is me crediting her work.

#witchcraft #witches for black lives matter #witches for blm #spells #sigil magic #sigils

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mrbinglee · 4 years

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oh my god today sucked. dear diary

in the morning was in one of the left turn lanes to get onto the highway to go to work and the car in the left turn lane next to me got rear ended by some car going like 30 mph and it made me think of the time i was driving in the mountains with some friends in early march (literally right before california shut down) and i was in a turnout waiting for faster cars to pass and a car rear ended me at like 50 mph and we had to total the car and it was the first road trip-like thing i ever took and it ended like That (completely embarrassing) and i still think about it every time im driving. i mean obviously today it was worse for the person who got rear ended but it just gave me bad flashbacks and like a faster heart rate during the whole drive. anyway then at work i was trying to do the quality control stuff for this instrument i was using that afternoon (it needs several hours to warm up) and usually it’s routine like 10 min but something was wrong this morning and it took like 2 hours to fix it. and then the main reason i was at work today was because i was taking down and staining an experiment that i had set up on monday (so like a 4 day incubation, and a week prep before that) and then halfway through staining i fucking... i fucking dropped the plate on the ground and had to throw it away bc the samples got all mixed together. so i have to redo it next week but my boss is leaving the company next week and she was supposed to show me how to analyze the data bc this is a new kind of experiment for me so now the plan’s all off. and then i realized my period leaked through my jeans so i was gonna walk around like that for the rest of the day. and then i thought i could salvage the day by doing what’s called compensation for the new experiment on the instrument which is like making sure the signals from different things won’t overlap with each other but bc this is a new kind of experiment the signals had to be adjusted from my default but there were just more and more problems and after like 3 and a half hours of troubleshooting i basically gave up and went fuck it i’ll start over next week. and then by then it was 7pm and i had accomplished nothing!! and had to drive home in the dark which is never as romantic as thunder road makes it sound. and i knew if i listened to music i would start to cry so i listened to a podcast about how trump deregulated any rule that like tried to protect the environmental and financial welfare of future americans so corporations could get better tax breaks and make more profit without actually returning any of it to the people

#like personally

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mikenewtonhateblog · 4 years

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My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin.

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

#no i am not looking for critiques on them #i get my critiques elsewhere lmao #my ocs

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chaniters · 4 years

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Halloween Part II

The Rangers take on Red Behemoth, who has joined Psychoathor as he leads the Phoenix riots against GeniTech’s Headquarters amidst an ecological disaster. Sidestep comes up with a plan that can hopefully salvage the situation.

(So on a quick note, I’ve learned that complex stories with multiple characters and a long series of actions and consequences are HARD to write.)

Hope you enjoy this!

Spoilers, as usual.

__________________________________

“Let’s do the wiring trick!” you ask hurriedly, gun in hand back to the pile of clutter Charge and you are using for cover. You’re very thankful to whoever used this rooftop as their personal storage, else Red Behemoth would have splattered you both by now.

“You think you can penetrate that armor?” he looks nervous and sweaty, but he’s still got that spark in his eyes that tells you he’s aching for action and crazy stunts right this instant.

“With the plasma cutter, I got at your HQ? In a heartbeat!” you say holding it on your right hand.

A single nod. Good. Steel would already be giving you hell about stealing.

“Alright, you go left, I’ll go right,” he says starting a sprint that leaves a static streak behind him. Never ceases to amaze you how fast he can move. You start your own sprint…

“Hey, over here you Soviet asshole! I bet your museum armor can’t hit me!” you taunt him while taking a few energy gunshots at the Behemoth. You’re making it worse by sending a strong scent of frustration into Red’s mind as your shots hit his visual hud.

“Die, you capitalist pigs! RAAAHHH!!!” he roars turning the chassis of his armor towards you, machinegun’s spinning and vomiting bullets at a frightening speed. Thankfully there are a few water tanks on this rooftop to avoid the onslaught…not that they last long before you have to take cover elsewhere. You’re keeping his aim a few degrees off with an illusive after-image. It should be enough to keep you safe against most enemies but considering Red Behemoth’s already awful aim you could still get hit at any time.

You let go of his mind just as Charge gets close enough to yank one of the Behemoth’s machineguns out of its base with both arms. It doesn’t go like planned, because the thing’s still heavily wired to the villain’s and won’t fully detach, nor will it stop firing… Luckily for you, Charge’s very good at improvising. He manages to turn the gun around just enough to face its owner, blowing up its own base along with most of the Behemoth’s mechanical arm.

“Newsflash, the cold war’s over bitch! Lay off the guns!” Charge adds his own attempt to infuriate the enemy.

“Never! I will burn your entire bourgeoise experiment of a country myself if I have to!” he yells turning while aiming a heat-seeker missile at Ortega with his surviving arm.

Now it’s all up to you… You time your leap and…

Success!

Wrapping your legs around the armor’s back, Behemoth notices too late that you’re there, swatting fruitlessly in your direction with his missile-loaded arm.

“Get off me, you little Sidekick shit!”

“It’s SIDESTEP!” you say dodging while confusing him about the length of his claw, making him think it’s impossible to reach you. If only… A slab of concrete collides with his face just in time to distract him. You hold on tighter, realizing Elyise is there providing support… good.

“You’re all products of this weakened and fallen democracy! You will all be crushed under the Soviet Heel!” his Synthesizer yells while shooting some manner of a laser from his chest at Elyise, who quickly levitates away from its firing arc.

“How many weapons do you have in there, freak??!” you ask in shock.

“More than enough to destroy all of you American puppets!!”

“You’re not even a true Russian agent!” you say taking out the cutter and sticking it as close as you dare to the armor without burning your hand.

“My birthplace doesn’t matter as long as I am serving the great ideals of LENIN and the motherlan…- AAAGHH!”

The burning must have got to him, and that does get his attention big time. He jerks violently, while trying to catch you with the claw, like a maddened bull. You twist and turn like a snake, doing your best to avoid getting crushed.

Luckily, the cutter is top-notch, and soon enough you have a decently sized fracture on the shell. You pull the wiring from your pack as fast as you can, and stick it in, throwing the other end at the ground, were Charge takes it.

“GET OFF!” Behemoth yells with a spin that actually leaves you without enough hold to stay on top. It’s a bad landing, and it takes the air of your lungs as you fall over the hard rooftop. You stand as fast as you can, but he’s faster this time. All you can see is the Red Behemoth impossibly tall in front of you, pointing the missile straight at your face.

“Say your prayers to your almighty dollar now” his voice thunders down onto you.

“Oh, will you shut up already? Do you even know how annoying you sound?” Charge says activating a full discharge …

What follows is that delightful moment when Red looks down, only now noticing the cables going all the way from Charge’s hands to the back of his armor…

*BKZKKAAAAAP*

He lights up like a glorious christmas tree, everything malfunctioning at once, intense black smoke coming from within soon after. He only manages a weak-high-pitched scream before falling down on his head.

His arm falls limps to the floor, vaguely pointing at you. It’s over. He’s done. You won.

But the small missile’s not done, seems it didn’t get the memo. You notice that just as it activates, the burnt arm’s mechanism not releasing it. It’s ignited tail sizzles and yanks at it’s hold trying to break free for a whole two horrible, endless seconds as you direct a panicked jump to the side…

Colorful.

That’s all you can think about the resulting explosion before the shockwave separates your feet from the ground.

Impact comes from behind as well, as your back hits hard against Charge’s solid chest. He wraps his arms around you, protective, holding you in place. His gesture is firm but ultimately hopeless, as the shockwave will soon sweep him away as just as it did you. Still, he doesn’t let go.

Despite his aid, it’s now the both of you falling down from the building, fast as a bullet and hard as a brick. Your life flashes before your eyes in as the ground closes in, much shorter than you had hoped it would be. Still, once the final score is tallied, you have to agree that hitting the pavement head-first while in Charge’s strong arms is a pretty decent way to go. You can probably accept this fate… He is the man that you…

…no. NO!!! What the hell are you thinking? Are you daydreaming in the middle of a fucking war?!?! What is wrong with you?!

Your training kicks in, dissolving the romantic delusion and bringing you back to the bloody reality of Phoenix’s riot. Pulling the pathetic sentimentalism aside, your mind reaches swift for Sentinel, who miraculously is both nearby and happens to be the ranger that can pick on your calls for help faster than any trained operative you’ve ever worked with.

Because he’s a professional and not someone fantasizing about some himbo coming to his aid. Ugh, you disgust yourself. When did you let it get this bad? Your handlers warned you so many times against developing such strong personal attachments like this and it’s never been clearer that they had a point…

Sentinel’s wind gust is quick, efficient, and incredibly cold, stopping you both from becoming a permanent landmark in the nick of time.

When you finally do hit the ground, the impact is soft and gentle, and you both roll slowly to the side, Charge still won’t let go. You look back to see he’s got his eyes closed, shivering. Shit, he was probably expecting to die right now, just like you did…

“Hm… guys? I’m really digging this bromance of yours, but Psychopathor’s Doomriders are still out there trying to kill everyone?” Sentinel says, hovering downwards. “Good save calling on me Sidestep, that telepathy’s sure handy” He grins, only his lips visible under his mask.

Charge exhales, and it takes a few seconds for him to actually realize no one is going to break every bone, and that it would be wise for him to let go of you now, a point that you help drive with a heavy frown.

“Thanks, Sentinel,” you say dusting yourself off, your gaze still on Charge.

What the heck are you doing Awan? Why do you want him to hold you when you should yell for him to stay the fuck away? The worst part is you’re pretty sure you’re sending the worse mixed signals and now that you’ve effectively blackmailed Elyise into leaving him, there’s not going to be anything stopping this mess from getting impossibly much worse.

You need to pick a lane and stay in it, and it can’t be the same as his. Right?

“Great job, both of you,” Charge says, a bit sheepish, pretending he wasn’t burying his face on your shoulder just a minute ago.

If you could only scream now…

____________________________

“Well it’s official, it can get worse,” Anathema says holding a tablet that’s playing the news. “Another shootout, three dead, and now they’re taking over police stations. The Revengers got beaten badly. Psychopathor’s people are passing guns onto the rioters right now.”

Everyone looks at the scenes with concern. While Red Behemoth’s been defeated, The Calamity, Ripper, Queen of Diamonds and the Beast from Below have all joined Psychopathor’s “Doomriders”, his improvised villain team and more are said to be about to join as well. More and more people are rallying to them each hour.

“At this rate, there’s going to be a civil war when they reach the base of the Arcology” Ashfall states

“That why we get the mission done, and don’t let them get any closer,” Steel says adjusting his new hand’s mods.

“Oh yeah? Fighting Psychopathor’s one thing, but how are we supposed to stop hundreds, maybe thousands of armed civilians? I didn’t sign up for this!” Ashfall replies, and soon an argument erupts. Ashfall’s outbursts at Steel often make your own arguments seem mild.

You take the tablet from Anathema as he joins in, their voices fading into the background as your shields raise. You focus on following the events on the screen. Only a few hours since the helicopter ride from Los Diablos, but the images are outright haunting now. Discarded Halloween costumes everywhere, stepped on by people fighting over air filters, shops closing or getting burned down and massive traffic jams after some rioters turned to burn cars as well.

People have completely lost it, taking orders from the worst villains imaginable. Some of them, especially the ones without covered faces are going into awful coughing fits on screen. Just watching it makes you adjust your own air filter tighter, a constant reminder that you’re surrounded by the cloud.

Things escalated very quickly after the first death from toxic poisoning was confirmed by the media, and it’s turned into a real shitshow since then.

If you could just leave the villains and GeniTech sort out their differences in private it would be great, but that’s not an option. Not when the air is poison and everyone knows there are not enough gas masks coming. GeniTech did not help things out at all when they announced their “unlimited” power supply could keep the Arcology supplied with fresh air and clean water for centuries to come, of course, only for those with the means to buy their way in.

It doesn’t matter if Catastrofiend caused the toxic spills, the media caught on the factories being subsidiaries and now everyone’s blaming GeniTech… which also happens to owns the only safe refuge.

A few civilians already tried to break in, and it turned bloody for them when GeniTech’s soldiers opened fire with short-range repeating anti-riot laser weapons. Most of it was blocked from the news, but several videos are being passed on by cellphone messages by those who recorded it, and it only made everything worse. They dispersed for now, but once Psychopathor rallies enough support and amassed enough weapons to fight off the GeniTech mercenaries, the parks around the trio of conjoined massive futuristic skyscrapers that form the Arcology are going to become a superpowered battle royale and who knows how many are going to die.

You’ve given up on trying to find his motivation by now. Truth is, he’s probably just as angry at GeniTech and the government as everyone joining him and wants it all to burn.

Steel’s right that if you let Psychopathor advance, the crowd will immediately follow and it will turn into a real bloodbath. But if you stop them… then the fucking cloud will still get them.

Why is humanity so reckless and stupid, you can only wonder.

You focus back on them, Ashfall and Steel pointing fingers at each other while Anathema tries to mediate. Sunstream and Elyise are whispering at the back and Charge just looks miserable.

“Marshall” you interrupt them at the right moment to break the argument, adding a mental finger-snap to get everyone’s attention to it. “I’m sorry but both Steel and Ashfall are both right. This is useless, we can’t stop Psychopathor if the citizens are on his side, and even if we could it will end badly because the cloud isn’t going away.”

“I know that, but do you have any better ideas?” Charge says exhausted.

“Yes. We need to get GeniTech to let the people inside until the cloud dissipates. It’s the only way.”

“Already asked for that. They said no, no one gets in without paying them. Company policy, they said.”

“Well then we need to ask again”

“Look Sidestep, I’ve called several times already, ok?. We can’t turn those corporate vampires compassionate overnight.”

“Who said anything about calling? Their entire board is gathered in there for their Halloween party, right? I say we visit them.”

“What makes you think that will make any difference…?”

“I’m pretty sure I can help you appeal to their values if I’m right beside you. You know, change their minds on the subject?” you say tapping your forehead.

There is a brief moment of silence as everyone considers your words. They all know you’re a telepath, you just haven’t ever had a situation to use your powers like this.

“I’m in,” Anathema says extending his hand first

“Me too” Ashfall places his hand on top of Anathema’s, a quick second.

“I don’t think there’s much of a choice here, we have to stand by the people” Sentinel says adding his own.

“Agreed. And I don’t want to shoot civilians, like ever” Sunstream states joining the hand stack

“I’m game for it, never liked those greedy bastards” Elyise states as she enters the huddle.

Steel gives you a long stare

“It might…actually be worth a shot,” he says drily before placing his new hand on top of Elyise’s.

All your eyes converge on Charge’s… he finally snorts, stacking his right with you all.

“Alright, team… So this is how we’re going to do this…”

___________________________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #@Kruk-art #awan cormac #Chargestep #Fanfiction #pre HB #fallen hero spoilers

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