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harleybeaumont · 1 year

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The Other Nevrakis - Christmas Party

Book - The Other Nevakis - TRR AU

Pairings - Drake x Lilith (OC), Liam x Riley

Word Count - 1,330

Warnings - language, drinking

I was inspired to write this fic from the @choicesholidays prompt: I’ve never been stabbed by an icicle before, and the edit that goes along with it is from the prompt: I’m so glad we found each other.

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It’s the night of Liam and Riley’s annual Christmas party. Not the formal one attended by every noble and dignitary in Cordonia, but a cozy gathering of their closest friends and family members.

Jingle Bell Rock plays quietly over the speakers, and Lilith and Riley are seated at the bar, both about 5 shots of tequila in.

“We need to take a picture!” Riley hiccups and giggles as she leans against her friend. “Max brought all these props and no one’s using them.. besides him, I mean.”

Lilith chuckles as her eyes land on Maxwell who is wearing an elf hat with a bell on the end, attempting to put a Santa hat on a protesting Bertrand.

“No thanks!” Lilith smirks. “I put on a pair of those stupid elf ears and I’ve just provided you with blackmail material.”

Riley places her hand over her heart and gasps. “Me?! You think I would blackmail my BFF?! “ Lilith raises an eyebrow skeptically and Riley laughs. “Ok maybe that one time when I wanted to borrow your Jimmy Choo’s and you wouldn’t let me, but never anything serious!”

“You were going to tell everyone that I can burp the alphabet! I don’t want anyone to know that! It’s humiliating!”

Riley cackles, leaning against the bar to steady herself. “It’s impressive! And it’s not like I was really gonna tell anyone!”

“Ya, ya..” Lilith rolls her eyes with a smile.

“I have an idea.” Riley nods across the room to where Liam and Drake are standing together, talking. “I bet I can convince Liam to dress up as Santa quicker than you can get Drake to. Winner gets to pick what we dress up as from Max’s prop box. ”

“Well duh, you’re gonna win!” Lilith shakes her head. “Liam literally does whatever you want, whenever you want!”

Riley bites her lip, watching her husband with a smirk. “He does, doesn’t he?”

“So you see, this isn’t a fair bet.”

“Then what would be fair?”

Lilith glances out the window, watching a light snowfall drift across the night sky. “Snowball fight.”

“Ha!” Riley laughs. “Against the woman who grew up in Lythikos surrounded by snow 24/7? How is that fair? You’ll annihilate me!”

“Sounds like you’re scared, Ri.”

Riley bites her cheek while she thinks. “Fine. Take two more shots of tequila, and then it’ll be fair.”

“Two more!? But we’ve both had the same amount!”

“Exactly. Everyone knows you have a higher tolerance than me.” Riley holds her hand out expectantly. “Soooo? Deal?”

Lilith knocks back two more shots and shakes Riley’s hand with a smirk. “Deal.”

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The girls stagger slightly as they make their way outside into the snowy courtyard, grabbing their coats on the way. Lilith blinks her eyes slowly, her mind hazy from the tequila.

“So, howwe gonna do this?” Lilith slurs, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts.

Riley pulls out her phone and sets a timer for five minutes. “Whoever has been hit the most when time runs out, loses.” Riley smirks but wobbles, catching herself on a statue. “Whoa. Ok, ready…go!”

Lilith dashes across the courtyard, slides behind a tree, and begins balling up snow as quickly as possible to create a nice stash of ammo. She peers out from behind the brush, listening for any sound of Riley. With no sign of her, Lilith picks up a few snowballs and creeps through the snow, making her way from tree to tree for cover. She sees no footprints, noting that Riley must have gone along the concrete path. “Where is this bitch?” Lilith whispers and is immediately pelted in the back of the head with a freezing projectile. “Hey!”

Riley laughs maniacally and rushes away. “First blood! First blood!”

“You’re gonna pay for that!” Lilith bolts after Riley, hurling a snowball that quickly whiffs past Riley’s head, barely missing her, and exploding against the tree beside her.

“Oh my god, are you trying to take my head off?!” Riley squeals as she weaves between the trees with Lilith hot on her tail. After a minute, Riley pauses to lean against the tree, completely winded. When she turns around, Lilith is nowhere in sight.

Riley’s eyes dart around the courtyard, but thanks to the excess amount of tequila, everything feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. She pulls out her phone and checks the time with a grin. “You only have 15 seconds left! I win!!”

“That’s what you think.” Lilith appears from behind a tree holding a snowball in each hand. “Nowhere left to hide.”

Riley holds her hands up in surrender, a look of terror flashing across her face. “Why do you look like you want to murder me?!”

Lilith utters a sinister chuckle. “I win.”

Placing two snowballs in one hand, Lilith brings her arm back ready to deliver the winning blow, when a flash of something dives from her peripheral vision.

“Noooooo!” The snowballs smack square against the chest of the interloper as he screams.

“Liam!” Riley yells as he lands in the snow with a grunt. She kneels down over him and giggles. “You saved my life!”

Liam sits up and rubs his sore chest. “Oww, maybe literally! That snowball had an icicle in it!”

“Jesus Lil!” Drake appears next to her with a smirk. “Trying to assassinate the King and Queen with an icicle?”

“I didn’t know, I swear!” Lilith throws her hands over her mouth in shock.

Liam stands and dusts the snow off of himself with a chuckle. “I’ve never been stabbed by an icicle before. You’ve got quite an arm, Lilith!”

“I’m so sorry!” Lilith shakes her head. “I don’t know how that happened, for real!”

“Well.” Riley grins cockily. “I believe I win the snowball fight!”

Lilith scoffs. “You wouldn’t have if Liam hadn’t jumped in front of you like a damn superhero! How did you guys even know we were out here?”

Drake steps closer to Lilith, wrapping his arms around her to help her get warm. “A couple of Riley’s guards told us that there was a drunken snowball fight going on outside, and we might want to check on you.”

“What was going on out here was my glorious victory!” Riley boasts with a cheeky grin. “I beat a Nevrakis in a snowball fight! This is the best day ever!”

Lilith rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure Liam intercepting the snowball is technically cheating.”

“Look, I’m too cold to argue. We’ll forgive you for the icicle and just call it even,” Riley says through her chattering teeth as she pulls Liam close. “Now let's get inside because I’m fricking freezing!”

Liam and Drake help their shivering, inebriated partners back inside the palace and help them get cleaned up, returning to the party just in time for karaoke.

As Leo saunters on stage and begins singing Santa Baby, Riley takes Lilith’s hand and leads her to the prop box. “Now, what am I gonna pick for you to wear in the photo?”

“Uh, no way! Outside, you said we would call it even.” Lilith crosses her arms.

“Did I?” Riley taps her cheek with a smirk. “Ok, fine. We’ll just go up and do some karaoke. Actually Lilith, why don’t you get up there and share your amazing talent of singing the ABC’s by burpi-.”

Lilith throws her hand over Riley’s mouth, narrowing her eyes. “You are the worst!”

Riley grins widely, passing Lilith a pair of reindeer antlers, which she snatches and puts on begrudgingly. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t! You love me.” Riley pokes Lilith in the side wiggling her finger, and Lilith swats her hand away with a chuckle.

“Fine. But if I take this pic you have to promise not to hold that over my head ever again! Because you know damn well I have plenty of dirt on you.”

“Deal.” Riley bumps Lilith’s shoulder with a smile. “Now, put those paws up little reindeer, and say cheese!”

#the other nevrakis #trr fanfic #the royal romance #bff's #christmas party #choices trr #choicesholidays #drake x oc #lilith nevrakis #liam x riley #the royal romance fanfic #trr #trr drake

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enoshima-division · 1 year

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“I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.”

Introduction

Yudai Toya, also known as KILLA W. in rap battles, is the Division leader and first member of Solar Siren. An adventurous swimming prodigy who’ve won many Olympic awards, he ran away from home to escape an overbearing father. It seems like he’s in a contract with someone, though he’s unusually secretive about who it is…

Biographical Information

Name: Yudai Toya / Toya Yudai

Yudai (優大) - “Big and excellent / superior.”

Toya (トヤ) - “Pond shore.”

Aliases:

Atuy - Native name

Llyr - Danish name

Yuu / Yu-chan / Yu-kun

The Red Sea Champion

SUSAN00 - Musician Name

“Seiyuu”

Aria no. 28 - “Shoreless Sea”.

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Birthday: April 7th

Star Sign: Aries

Ethnicity: Ainu

Hair Color: Fiery red

Eye Color: Aqua blue

Height: 171cm / 5’7”

Weight: 162 Ibs / 73kg

Piercings: N / A

Markings: A scar on his stomach.

Family:

Father

Mother (Deceased)

Step-Mother (Deceased)

Six older siblings (Some are alive, some are…unknown.)

Fun Facts

MC Name: KILLA W.

Occupation: Swimmer / Musician / Voice Actor

Division: Enoshima

Team: Solar Siren

Position: Leader

Likes: Exploring, the sea, fireworks, supernatural / paranormal media.

Dislikes: Secrets, people being overprotective and / or constantly nagging him, people who are constantly filled with hate, and dishonest people. It’s all ‘people people people’ with him huh.

Favorite Food: Anything with strawberries.

Least Favorite Food: Octopus. Actually, he seems to dislike sea food in general.

Appearance

Yudai is a tanned man of average height and a toned build. His messy hair reaches his shoulders and is a fiery red color, usually put in a small low ponytail. There are gold round glasses that frame his aqua blue eyes. On his neck is a pearl necklace with a purple clamshell attached to it.

Normally he’s wearing a light blue short-sleeved jacket; underneath is a gradient purple tank top with a beach design, complete with palm trees and all. His knee-length shorts are a dark greyish-green in color, and his sandals are dark blue.

Personality

Yudai, to describe him rather simply, is a huge bundle of energy. He’s spirited and bright, being affectionate to those he that likes or admires. He holds a huge passion for adventure and exploration—One that is “mistakenly” called rebellious by his father, according to him. His curiosity leads him into a lot of trouble. On another note, he has a bit of an ego due to his prodigy status.

Despite how kind he can be, Yudai has a temper that can make him incredibly spiteful to those that he dislikes. Calling them names to provoke them, roasting them right in front of their face, doing things that would make them angry, etc. He just becomes aggressively petty. This brat can hold grudges for a long time, you see.

Ironically, he can be pretty overprotective of people he cares about to the point it’s almost overbearing. This overprotectiveness can also lead him to be even more reckless than he already is, such as going straight into fighting without a second thought. I guess he and his dad are more similar than he thinks!

Hypnosis Mic

His mic is blue and handheld, with a spiral wave wrapped around the hilt and a shell around the mic grill.

His speakers take the form of a large open clamshell with a white spherical speaker inside acting as a pearl.

Yudai’s rap ability is…a secret, lol. Let it be a surprise during the rap battle, don’t you think that’ll be more interesting?

Much like Koyumi, he mixes rapping and singing together, often switching between the two. Sometimes when rapping he speaks other languages too, including his native one.

Trivia

As mentioned in the opening post, Yudai is also a TWST OC who’s twisted from Ariel, and the Little Mermaid from the original book as well. His quote is the beginning of the song “Part of your World”.

His birthday is the release date of The Little Mermaid book.

His MC name is a reference to Repun Kamuy, the god of the sea, who’s sometimes depicted as an orca / killer whale.

He’s originally from Hokkaido.

He’s left-handed.

Yudai has a VERY large voice range. His voice can be really high and sound like a girl, it can go incredibly deep, he can hold high notes for a long time, he can imitate other peoples voices, etc. This talent of his is why he’s also a musician and voice actor.

He really loves sea creatures, especially the super scary and mysterious-looking ones.

On that note, Yudai wants to be the first man to ever explore the remaining 80% of the ocean just to see scary sea creatures. He wants to be the first person to ever reach the bottom of the ocean too.

#hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #enoshima division #solar siren #oc profile #not me finishing his hypmic profile before his twst one even though he was originally made for twst first LOL #then again he’s like…the 11th mc so of course he’d take longer #yudai toya

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readyforthegarden · 2 years

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Bubblegum - Part Four

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female OC

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!!

Synopsis: When Eden signed her recording contract to become a pop superstar, she hadn't realized she wasn't just signing her creative freedoms away, she was signing much more. Her control over social media, her diet, and even her relationships. When she gets contracted into a relationship with some wannabe rockstar name Jake Kiszka, will she finally find her freedom?

🎶 🎶 🎶

A few days later, Eden opened the front door of her home to Jake standing there, his hair half pulled up, the rest blowing around his face in the gentle breeze, and small smirk on his face. In his hands was a tray holding two fast food drink cups and bag of food.

“I brought lunch. Figured we should go over some strategies for our plan.” Eden grinned at the bag, knowing it was going to be exponentially better tasting than the frozen single meal she had been thinking of heating up. “I got you a chocolate shake, I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect.” she ushered him in, closing the door behind him. “You can go ahead and set up in the living room, I’ll be right in.” Eden popped into the kitchen, grabbing some napkins and running back out after turning down the speakers playing music around the home. Jake already had the food setup, a cheeseburger and fries sat in front of the empty spot on the couch, and she bounded over to it happily.

“I was talking to Josh about it the other night,” Jake began, popping a french fry in his mouth as he leaned back. “I want to make sure you’re comfortable with what we’re going to be doing.” Eden rolled her shoulders back, nodding confidently.

“I went to a few years of performing arts college back home.” she explained. “I can fake it ’til we break it.” Jake nodded. He watched as she lifted the bun off her burger, pinching a pickle slice and putting it in her mouth. The hum of joy that reverberated in her chest made him smile.

“Well, we have a few ideas. Next Thursday, we have a show. I want you to come. We’ll either have you backstage, but peeking out of the wings so people can see you, or put in a little VIP section in the crowd. You’ll look like a devoted, supporting girlfriend.” she nodded. “But after, we’re going to have a fight in front of the fans. They usually wait outside after the show. They already don’t care for you, so it’ll really drive a wedge in there.”

“Wait, your fans don’t like me?” Eden asked, taking a full bite of her cheeseburger. Jake laughed at her shocked expression.

“Some do, some don’t care. I’m sure you know yourself, the most vocal ones are the ones that hate.” he shook his head. “They’re really trying to figure out how someone like me ended up with someone like you.”

“I can’t imagine.” Eden rolled your eyes. She sat back, tossing her auburn brown hair over her shoulder. “Most of my fans think you’re hot. From what I’ve seen so far on the socials, they like you. They’re worried for me, but they like you.”

“I’m the bad boy with a heart of gold, baby.” Jake grinned in jest, extending his arms out to his sides as if he was showing himself off to the world. Eden laughed out loud, making him grin wider. “So anyway, what should we fight about?”

“Ooh, good question.” Eden hummed. As she thought, she popped the lid off her milkshake and swirled a french fry around in the cool treat. “What if I caught you flirting with a fan?” Jake scrunched his face while he considered it.

“Nah, I don’t want to do that to someone.” he shook his head. “It’s a boundary I don’t want to cross with fans.” Eden nodded in understanding. “What if I’m spending too much time with my music? Not enough with you?” Jake was briefly distracted as an orange tabby cat made its way into the living room, pausing and studying him briefly, then running across the room and jumping up on its cat tree by the window.

“Would anyone believe that? We’re both artists, we both live that life.” she sighed. Fake fighting was proving to be more difficult than they thought. As both chewed and thought over what big fight they could get into, the doorbell rang. Eden’s eyebrows furrowed as she got up and walked to the foyer. Opening the door she was met with a giant floral arrangement.

“Miss Beckett?” the delivery person squeaked. The small woman looked like she was about to buckle under the weight of the flower.

“Yes?” Eden confirmed. The woman handed over the large vase and had Eden sign for delivery before leaving. Eden herself struggled to carry what could only be described as a rose bush, into the living room.

“Oh shit, who are those from?” Jake laughed, watching her try and set them down on the coffee table without tipping over. Once she straightened up, Eden plucked the card from top, opening the little envelope and seeing two handwritten notes.

‘Eden, post a pic of these on your insta with no caption, no tags. Make sure the other card is blurry but visible enough fans can see Jake’s name. - Bryan’ she read to herself, then flipped to the other card.

‘My angel, a rose for every moment I think of you - Jake’ Eden scrunched her nose up, feeling gross over the forced sentiment.

“You did, apparently.” she handed him the cards and watched his face turn red as he read the first one, then redder with the second one.

“That is the stupidest, cheesiest thing I have ever read.” Jake tossed the cards down on the table. “I would never say something like that.”

“What makes it worse is, I don’t even like roses all that much.” Eden shrugged, sitting down next to him. “They’re beautiful, but I prefer peonies and lilies.”

“Man, I’m a terrible boyfriend, huh?” he asked. Eden nodded, leaning down and beginning to pluck out the baby’s breath, remembering that the plant was not good for cats. Elton was already eyeing the flowers from his perch.

“That’s what we’re going for, though. So I think you’ve aced it.” the two musicians fell into a comfortable silence until Jake sprang forward, grabbing the card with his message on it.

“I have something way more believable from me, and it’ll drive Bryan and Natalie crazy.” he said, scribbling down a few words before putting the card back in the holder in the bouquet. Eden leaned forward to read and burst out laughing, slapping a hand over her mouth when she caught Elton jump from the noise out of the corner of her eye.

“That’s amazing!” she squealed, grabbing her phone. “Move the food out of the way so I can take the picture and I’ll post it now.” Jake swept the remains of the fast food meals to the side and Eden framed the flowers, snapping a picture and immediately hopping onto instagram. She scrolled through a few filters, and picked one that blurred the edges and conveniently made Jake’s scribbled message highlighted more than the flowers. Only posting it with a small red heart emoji in the caption, she showed it Jake, who laughed and nodded in approval.

Jake had written ‘Eat my ass’ with a sloppy, almost butt-shaped heart and his name scrawled on the bottom. Eden turned her phone onto do no disturb and tossed it to the chair across the room. She leaned her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes. Imagining the look on Bryans’ smug face as he scrolled through his socials and saw the post, thinking she followed orders perfectly and then seething with anger at her and Jakes little prank. Eden felt the smile spread across her face as she imagined him calling and texting you feverishly, getting angrier at every unread notice.

“So your social media pages are controlled by them too?” Eden opened her eyes, glancing over to Jake. His brow was creased with slight concern as he regarded her.

“I have access to everything.” she explained, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “But it’s heavily monitored and my posts are…suggested for me. And if they’re not what the label wants, they get deleted pretty fast.” Jake watched her, seeing the small light that was in her eyes fade out as she spoke of her situation. He racked his brain to try and understand it.

“How did you end up here, Eden?” Jake asked. Eden grimaced, scratching a spot just behind her ear, a blush of shame crawling across her cheeks and nose.

“A couple of years ago, I came out here to follow my dreams.” she answered. “I wanted to be a singer and a songwriter. I sent demos everywhere, I would play a bunch of open mic nights. One day I got called into a label for a meeting. They hated my songs, but they liked my voice.

“So they asked me to record a few songs, just some demos, they were supposed to be for another artist, but I guess they didn’t work out. So they passed me some contracts, and I barely read through them. I thought wow, maybe I can get my own music out there if I play the game for a bit.” Jake watched as Eden’s face fell while she recalled the story, memories flashing in her eyes. “I didn’t have any family or friends to advocate for me, and I barely knew how to advocate for myself. I signed a three record deal, but there wasn’t a timeline, so who knows how long I’m stuck.”

“How many records do you have to go?” Jake asked, unclenching his fist when he felt the sharp pinch of his nails digging into his palm. He hadn’t realized that he had curled his fingers into a fist as he heard Eden tell her story.

“One more. And they’re starting to put stuff together for that. But after that, there’s a tour, promotion, and as long as I’m making them money I’m sure they’re gonna try and keep me on for as long as possible.”

Before the conversation could continue, the song on the speakers switched, and Jake’s eyes went wide as he recognized it as Bob Dylan’s version of Blowin’ in the Wind.

“You listen to Bob Dylan?” he asked. Eden rolled her eyes and nodded. “Never would’ve pegged you for that. How did you get into him?”

“First, I think everyone in the entire world knows at least one Bob Dylan song. It shouldn’t be that startling.” Eden began. “Second of all, I’m surprised you like him. Isn’t he a little….nasal, for your tastes?” Jake narrowed his eyes at her, a smirk playing at this lips.

“You’re really not going to let me live that down?” he asked. Eden shook her head, giving him a grin. He leaned across the middle couch cushion and locked his eyes on hers. “Eden, I’m very, very sorry I called you nasal. Obviously your music can’t be that bad, it sells really well and my sister loves it.” Eden felt herself blush as his deep brown eyes stared into her own, a small fluttery sensation appearing in her stomach as he gave her a sincere smile.

“I’m sorry I called you a hack.” she responded. Jake grinned at the apology, and straightened up, picking up his carton of now cold french fries and shoving a few in his mouth. “To be fair, I haven’t had a chance to even listen to any of your music. But now I kind of want to wait until I see you live.”

“Oh darling, you’re in for a real treat.”

Taglist: @trafficwasabitch, @obetrolncocktails, @streamsofstardust, @sammiejane22, @myownparadise96, @gretavanbitches, @mamavanheat, @lunaindigoraven, @shutupdevvie @jakewhorecore @josiee-gvf @shesawomaninadream @writingcold @spicedandicedtea @niallsboxx @baguettejuliette

#bubblegum fic #jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake gvf fic #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction

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crowfootwrites · 3 years

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A Night on the Town [Rafael Barba x OC]

Mayans MC has been consuming my life recently, so I've mostly been posting SOA/Mayans content, but SVU's Rafael Barba took my fanfic virginity, so I wanted to post another Barba piece.

I am currently working on a very long Barba x OC fanfic (it currently stands at about 50,000 words) but I don't want to post any of it until it's done because I would feel so bad if I never finished it. I wrote this smutty little chapter, but I can't really fit into the larger piece anywhere right now, so I figured I'd post it as a standalone. I'm leaving it as my OC, Dahlia, because that's who I wrote it for.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut (seriously, the whole thing is smut); language; alcohol use; unwanted advances | Words: 3,575

Dahlia picked up the cell phone buzzing on the table and grinned to see the caller ID flashing “Sonny Carisi”.

“Sonny!” she exclaimed as she answered it. Rafael chuckled from the couch. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would actively want to be friends with Sonny, who grated his every last nerve; but to be fair, Dahlia was one of the friendliest people he knew, so he figured it was probably just him that was easily annoyed by Sonny’s overeager personality. He knew that Dahlia didn’t have too many friends in the city, besides her sister, so he was glad that she could talk to Sonny.

“Um, yes!” Dahlia said excitedly. “That sounds so fun!” There was a pause, punctuated by Dahlia’s quiet mhmm’s and yeah’s. Then, “Well, I don’t know if he’ll want to, but I’ll ask.”

Rafael groaned quietly. What was she going to try to rope him into? He’d had a long week and he really wanted nothing more than a calm night on the couch. He heard her put the phone back on the counter. He looked up at her, his eyebrow already quirked as she came around the couch to stand in front of him, hand planted on her hip. She smiled at him sweetly; so sweetly he could practically see the halo around her head. He was in for trouble.

“What?” he asked amusedly.

“Sonny and Amanda are going out to this new bar in Williamsburg, and they asked if we would like to join them,” she told him matter-of-factly.

Rafael sighed. “Mi amor, I’m so tired. It’s been a long week. I definitely think you should go if you want to, but I don’t know if I have it in me,” he said, watching her face for any sign of disappointment. There were none, which was strange. Dahlia was not good at hiding her emotions. One of his favorite things about her was how open she was with her feelings. So, this either meant that she wasn’t disappointed, or that he was about to lose a battle that hadn’t even started. He grimaced at the thought.

Suddenly, Dahlia was climbing over him on the couch, planting her knees and straddling his hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, all of her movements languid, which Rafael knew meant she was feeling some kind of way. She put on a pout and Rafael groaned, knowing he was doomed.

“It’s just so much more fun when we’re together, Rafa,” she whined. Her hips shifted a little in his lap and it immediately sent a jolt to his groin.

“No fair, niñita,” he mumbled, throwing his head back. He ran a cursory hand over her side, coming to rest on her ass.

Dahlia leaned forward so her lips were pressed against his ear. “I was planning on wearing a new dress that I think you’ll like,” she murmured, and Rafael shivered. “And if you come with me, I promise to make it worth your while.” She pulled back a little and when Rafael brought his eyes back down to meet hers, she was wearing a smirk that he desperately wanted to wipe off her face. His eyes flashed intensely, the green seeming brighter than usual, and Dahlia knew she had him. Honestly, she knew she had him before she even sat down, but she also never wanted to underestimate Rafael Barba.

Twenty minutes later, they were in their bedroom, Rafael trying (and mostly failing) to keep his hands off of Dahlia as she got ready. She had been right about the dress, he did like it, very much. It was a short, lemon yellow number, something Dahlia had called “fit & flare”, and in combination with her bright red hair, Rafael knew she’d be attracting all sorts of attention. Not that he minded. Whenever they went out, he thoroughly enjoyed watching other men’s faces after she came to sit on his lap or pulled him in by the lapels for a kiss.

He watched as she pulled on a pair of nude platform wedges and had to physically sit on his hands on the bed to stop himself from running a hand up her legs. She shut herself in the bathroom for a few moments to touch up her makeup. Rafael was, thankfully, still dressed from work, so he didn’t have to change, which would have made this battle a little more difficult for Dahlia. He re-buttoned his navy, pinstripe waistcoat and slipped his shoes back on, still not entirely ready to be back on the town after the day he’d had.

In the cab, Dahlia clung tightly to his arm, and he relished in the warmth coming from her. She was oddly quiet, staring directly ahead with a look of thorough concentration on her face.

“You alright?” he asked her quietly.

She glanced at him, then down at her lap. When she looked back at him again, she was grinning.

“I told you I’d make this worth your while, right?”

Rafael raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Do you trust me?” she asked. Rafael narrowed his eyes but nodded. She held her hand out. “I need to see your phone for a minute.” Rafael’s heart thrummed. Dahlia had never once touched his phone, and he had no idea what she was about to do. Not that he was worried; he had nothing to hide from her. He just didn’t like being confused. He unlocked his phone and handed it to her. She quickly turned away from him, shielding what she was doing with her back. A few moments later, she was handing the phone back, and an app he had never seen was open on his screen.

Rafael stared at it in confusion. He looked back up at Dahlia for clarification, and she was grinning wickedly at him. She glanced up at the cabbie for a moment, then leaned into murmur to Rafael, “This controls the vibrator that I’m wearing tonight.”

Rafael’s face remained mostly controlled, but Dahlia saw the slight flexing of his jaw and she smirked at him again. His eyes flashed hot and she knew she had done well. He glanced down at the phone, then back up at Dahlia, his thumb sliding over the control button in the app. He watched her vigilantly as he pressed down, and a shudder racked through Dahlia, biting down on her lower lip.

Rafael grinned roguishly. “Oh, mi amor, you have definitely made this worthwhile,” he growled.

Dahlia winked at him, then put a hand gently on his arm. “I haven’t used this in public before, so I don’t know how well I’m going to be able to hide it.”

“I won’t overdo it.”

Just then, the cab pulled up outside of the bar, and Rafael helped Dahlia out, a million questions running through his mind. How long has she had this? Has she been sitting on this idea for a while? This is something she actively wants to do? She was handing over complete control to him all night long, in public, and while Dahlia preferred a more submissive role in the bedroom, this seemed to be something of a departure from her preferred turn-ons. Rafael realized the level of trust that she was giving him and he was determined not to take advantage.

The bar was in an old, nondescript building with exposed brick behind peeling paint. A small neon sign and a few small clumps of people smoking outside heralded their arrival, otherwise Rafael might have missed it completely. They made their way inside, and Rafael noted a few heads already turning to glance at Dahlia as they passed. He bit back a grin. Maybe this night would be fun after all.

They found Sonny and Amanda almost immediately, at a cozy table near the back corner of the bar. The inside was one long room, with a bar that ran the length of the building up one side, and booths and tables down the other. The whole place was decorated with bistro lights hung from the ceiling and palm trees scattered all around. It was loud inside, dance music pulsing out of the speakers, and the drone of drunk patrons talking and laughing. Fortunately, it was a little quieter at the table Sonny and Amanda had grabbed, but not by much.

“Dahlia! Barba!” Sonny called in greeting as they approached the table. He and Amanda both rose to hug Dahlia and each shook Rafael’s hand, not daring to touch him more than that. It always amused Dahlia how afraid people seemed to be of Rafael. But if she was being completely honest, it was kind of a turn-on.

When Sonny turned to Amanda to ask her something, Dahlia glanced up at Rafael from the cocktail menu. “Scotch, guapo?” He nodded at her with a smile and she excused herself to the bar. He couldn’t help but stare as she walked away, her hips swaying beneath the swinging of her dress. She leaned forward a little on the bar, trying to track down the bartender, and Rafael exhaled hard at the slight lifting of her hem. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it to stare down at the app. He spied the pulse setting, turned the intensity down, not wanting to startle her too much, then pressed the button.

He watched as Dahlia’s entire body stiffened, her head whirling around the glare at him. But he saw the playful smile on her lips and winked at her. He watched as she turned away, but crossed her legs at the calves, clenching her thighs. He didn’t notice the fascination with which Sonny and Amanda stared at him staring at Dahlia.

By the time Dahlia returned to the table, carrying Rafael’s scotch and her own Aviation, Sonny had pulled Rafael’s attention into a conversation about their most recent case. Dahlia watched as Sonny engaged with Rafael with his usual vigor and friendliness and smiled to herself as Rafael responded shortly and with just a hint of condescension. He was nothing if not consistent, and he was consistently her grouchy, self-assured man. She set his scotch on the table in front of him, then sat, chatting with Amanda about work and how Jesse was doing. Eventually, conversations converged, and Rafael was able to turn his attention back to Dahlia. He gazed at her for a moment, before sliding his hand into his pocket and hitting the button again. Dahlia’s body tensed again and she exhaled hard, dropping her forehead on her palm, elbow propped on the table.

“You ok, doll?” Sonny asked curiously. Amanda turned to look at Dahlia too and Rafael noticed the flush creeping across her cheeks.

She flashed them a smile that was all teeth and choked out, “I’m fine. Just… cramps.”

Rafael bit back a laugh. He slid his hand over to her thigh and gave it a squeeze, thoroughly enjoying watching her squirm. She looked at him and rolled her eyes, before crossing her legs tightly, knees stacked. Rafael watched as she took a deep breath and her muscles finally relaxed. He pressed the button again and observed a very different response from Dahlia this time around. Her eyes blinked heavily and she bit her lower lip, breathing a sigh that only Rafael could hear. She shifted in her seat and gazed at him hungrily. As Sonny held Amanda’s attention in the background, Dahlia picked her phone up off the table and pulled up her texts to Rafael.

DR: Te deseo, Rafa. No se si puedo esperar hasta que llegamos a casa. (I want you, Rafa. I don’t know if I can wait until we get home.)

When the phone buzzed in Rafael’s pocket, he pulled it out to look. He let out a low whistle, impressed with Dahlia’s multitasking capabilities. She had already turned her attention back to the conversation at the table, chatting happily as if she hadn’t just sent a dirty text to her boyfriend who also happened to be getting her all riled up.

He swallowed hard, considering how he wanted to play this. His fingers flew over his phone as he typed out his response.

RB: Well, you’ll just have to, querida. I want you to have plenty of time to think about all the ways I’m going to have you when we get home.

Dahlia glanced down to scan the incoming text and Rafael watched vigilantly as his words sunk in

and she shivered. She turned briefly to make eye contact with him, a sly look on her face. She turned away to face Amanda, declaring, “I love this song!” She grabbed Amanda’s hand and they made their way towards the center of the bar where a throng of bodies had already started gathering as the night wore on. Rafael looked on as Amanda and Dahlia danced carelessly through a few songs, their bodies flush against one another. Seeing the way Dahlia moved, and knowing what she was hiding from everyone but him, turned him on immensely, and he used every ounce of self-control he had to turn his mind away from the fact that he was half-hard.

Sonny turned to glance at Rafael with a laugh. “They look like they’re having a good time,” he chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. Rafael grinned. Dahlia glanced back to their table and winked at him. She looked dazzling to Rafael, her hair and dress shifting colors under the bar lights, her smile wide and radiant. She knew he wouldn’t join her on the dance floor, and so she teased him. Well, he could tease her right back, couldn’t he?

His phone in hand, Rafael turned the setting up one notch and held the control button down for a few long seconds. His eyes followed Dahlia, who had her back pressed against Amanda as they danced, as she bit her lower lip, her eyes fluttering, her hand traveling down as though she might touch herself then and there. Rafael felt another twitch in his pants, imagining her grinding against him that way. Dahlia appeared to suddenly remember where she was and straightened up a little, concealing her movements as dancing. But she shot a playful glare at Rafael, who tipped his head towards her. Dahlia turned towards Amanda and said something in her ear, then Amanda returned to the table as Dahlia headed back to the bar.

“Dahlia’s got this round,” Amanda offered as she slumped breathlessly in her chair. She turned to Rafael and added playfully, “You’ve got your hands full with that one, Barba.”

He smirked at her. “Don’t I know it,” he agreed. His gaze traveled back to Dahlia. She finished speaking to the bartender, who turned away, and Rafael’s eyes narrowed as she was approached by a guy who openly leered at her. He looked to be about Dahlia’s age, in very tight jeans and a fitted flannel shirt. Rafael snorted to himself at the beanie the guy was wearing. He looked like a try-hard, the kind of guy Dahlia could eat alive. Dahlia had turned to face him as he spoke to her and Rafael could see her shaking her head at him, smiling, trying to let him down easy. The guy appeared not to be taking no for an answer, and Rafael felt a flicker of anger lighting inside him. But before he could make a move, Dahlia was waltzing back towards him, holding a few beer bottles by their necks and another glass of scotch in her other hand. The man at the bar appeared to follow her, but Dahlia quickly dropped their drinks on the table, then seated herself in Rafael’s lap, where he immediately wound an arm around her waist protectively. He glared at the man, who scowled and changed course back towards the end of the bar.

Only then did Rafael realize that his turned-on girlfriend was sitting (and doing some almost imperceptible grinding) on his lap. His hand slipped to the hem of her dress as she returned to conversation with Sonny and Amanda as if nothing was amiss. Teasingly, he let his fingers wander along the inside of her thighs. When he reached her center, he clenched his jaw at the damp heat radiating off of her. He hastily withdrew his hand and slammed back the rest of his scotch.

“Amor, I’m sorry, I just remembered that I agreed to prep a motion for O’Dwyer,” he lied effortlessly. “Would it be alright if we head home?”

Dahlia glanced over her shoulder at him, an impish grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Of course, baby,” she cooed. She turned back to Amanda and Sonny, who both studied her skeptically.

“Thank you for the invite, this was so fun!” she exclaimed, hopping off Rafael’s lap. “We’ll have to do it again soon,” she added, pressing quick kisses to Amanda and Sonny’s cheeks in turn. They waved their goodbyes as Dahlia practically dragged Rafael out of the bar.

As they stood waiting for a taxi, Dahlia wound her hands around his neck, crashing her lips onto his frantically. Rafael did his best to keep up with her, noting the way she moved her hips against his. It took every bit of his strength not to start something right there on the sidewalk. Blessedly, he saw a taxi coming and flagged it down, nudging Dahlia into the backseat.

She was like a woman possessed, and by the time they stumbled into their apartment, Rafael was tearing at her clothes, eager for some release after a night of teasing. He pushed her up against the wall in their entryway, his lips locked on hers, his hands slithering up her thighs and grabbing her ass possessively.

“Do you know how hard it was to look at you bent over the bar in this dress?” he growled into the slope of her neck.

“How hard, Rafa?” she panted, working the buckle on his belt.

He grabbed one of her hands forcefully and pressed it against the bulge straining in his dress slacks. “That hard.”

Dahlia shuddered, her breath coming heavy and hot against his ear, as she finally managed to undo his belt and the zipper on his pants with her free hand. With a low moan, she pushed his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and ran her fingertips nimbly up the length of his cock. Every muscle in her body trembled with tension, her pussy clenching repeatedly, aching for some kind of release.

Rafael nipped hard at her neck, loving the breathy whimpers his mouth elicited from her. He tugged the waist of her dress up and she lifted her arms so he could pull it over her head and toss it to the side. He made quick work of her bra, and yanked her red panties down to her ankles. He lifted them up on one of his fingers and leered at her with a smirk.

“These were a good investment,” he mused, before tossing them to the side as well.

He grabbed Dahlia’s shoulders roughly and turned her so her heaving chest was pressed flush against the wall. He ran his hands gingerly down the curve of her spine before landing a sharp smack on her ass. Her breathing hitched and turned into a whine as Rafael spanked her again. He ran a slow finger between her legs finding her slick between her folds. He had to have her.

While Rafael considered himself a very generous lover, and always made it a point to take his time with foreplay, he needed to be inside her, a need that gnawed at the edge of his consciousness as he lined himself up with her entrance. His left hand snaked around to grab at her throat, applying a little pressure as he thrust himself into her. A loud whimper spilled over her lips as his right hand found its way to her clit, rubbing firm circles as she rocked against his hand.

After a long night of teasing, Dahlia was already on edge. It didn’t take long for Rafael’s clever fingers to push her over. She came hard, wailing his name with her cheek pressed harshly against the wall, clamping down on his cock inside her. The increase in pressure around him had Rafael reeling; he buried himself deep inside her a few more times until he came, grunting her name, interspersed with a string of profanities. He collapsed against her back, working to even out his breathing.

“Fuck, Raf,” she huffed. “I’ve been thinking about you doing that since the first time you hit that goddamn button.”

Rafael chuckled, wincing slightly as he pulled out of Dahlia. She turned to face him, resting her shoulders against the cool wall as her hips swayed forward. She pushed her hair haphazardly out of her flushed face, her eyes sparkling in satisfaction.

“Shower?” she purred, feeling the stickiness dripping between her thighs. She ran a finger teasingly down Rafael’s chest.

He eyed her greedily, need still simmering in his belly. “Oh, we’re not done yet, mi amor. I promised to have you multiple ways, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened as Rafael wrapped his arms around her hips. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, yelping as he carried her purposefully to their bedroom for a little more fun.

#law and order svu #svu #svu fanfiction #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba x oc #mayans mc #ada rafael barba #rafael barba one shot

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doomedideas · 3 years

Text

another penismp fic, this time with @spoopyvirgil's oc 4B4ND0N3D_FR13ND. there's pov switches between FR13ND and CH405, and as always, read the tws in the tags before you press readmore. Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31464428

The underground is dark. Your feathers work to cancel out the chill, huddled in the dead ends of these strange passageways. Perhaps you should’ve stayed near where you started, been looked for or gone looking for the way back. It’s too late now- You’ve lost the path, and you have to keep searching for more food in the minecarts scattered about the tunnels.

There’s things in here with you, rattling bones that you shouldn’t be able to see through skin. (But how do you know, really?) There’s a heat in one of the wider areas, a light that burns your eyes and a warmth that singes skin. You miss it, being able to see the change between dirt and stone, but light draws too much attention, and staying wasn’t safe.

He tilts his head, and if it weren’t for that you might not have even seen them. They have feathers, dark ones, reminiscent of a raven or a crow. You came here to find resources and gunpowder, to plan the next prank event you wanted to do. There’s something concerning about him, a lack of the things you see in the others you have met here. There’s been no news of other travelers to the smp, but maybe you just haven’t paid attention.

Maybe you see a lost person, clearly alone, close to the person you were before you lashed out, and try to help a bit. It’ll be fine, right?

You tell him what you are and he takes it as a name. It’s confusing, at first, the way he shortens it. He’s removed the part you find most important, but you’ve been alone enough that you do not correct him. It’s calming, to be called a companion, even if it’s meant differently.

He’s full of questions, and you hadn’t realized how many answers you lack.

But you’re supposed to respond, right? “Don't make it all about yourself?”

Says a voice in your head, harsh and demanding and cruel, and you do not know anything of the speaker except that you should fear them.

You ask him a question. It’s the right thing to do.

“You don't like the way I answer you. Do you not want to see yourself in me? Or are you just scared you’ll end up just like I am?”

To say you flinch is an understatement. The raven speaks and you turn your blade to face them, frantic twisting of your head as you search for signs of danger. They open their hands, the same way you did when you first found them, the same way you did when you said his name, and you freeze.

You can recognize, now, just what unnerved you.

You know enough to see it as a threat. You’re sure you once knew how to respond, how to fix it, but all you can remember now is that moment when the memory demanded that you respond in kind, and choose to do so.

His reaction to your questioning speaks volumes, but you’ll keep your tone low.

It’s only polite, right?

You run.

You run back through the mine, back to the surface, back to daylight and people who do not speak of being left behind, who do not tell you about memory and the loss of it. He follows, and you cannot begrudge him for it- You’re sure now that he would know the way out without you. Still, you run, seeking to flee from the fear and the person that brought it, back to your friend, who tilts their head the same way as the thing in the mine, and you run.

It takes two days before you try to approach him again. They stand next to her, the woman who smiles at the kings and the subjects and never leaves her axe behind, the one person you know to leave alone.

It takes five days before you let your partner in crime reintroduce you to him, and you’re civil. You will not like them, but they do not deserve your hate.

You’ll do your best to help them, but you’ll keep your distance.

He has numbers in his name, and they do too. You pay attention to the ways they write it down, and assemble your own little pile of letters. You replace the vowels until it makes sense, and pretend like that’s the way it was all along.

4B4ND0N3D_FR13ND looks nice on the sign you put up next to your tree. You still don't quite get it, but it makes them happy, and that’s enough for now.

(“That’s a threat. I know it is, I know that much, I know to respond in kind, and I know that you have started this exchange. I know this, and I don't; I assume and you believe me, because you have not yet grasped what I mean when I say I have forgotten. I have forgotten. I have forgotten who I am and what I’ve done and what to do. I have remembered that I was alive before I forgot, but I know no more, except this one thing-

I was ordinary.

I was ordinary and undeserving, I should never have received this curse, and finally, I did it myself.

You reacted badly when I called myself abandoned. It’s easy to be. Just forget and be forgotten. Your memories haunt you, in the way you flinch at my movements, in the way you seem to repeat things you’ve heard others say, and I could free you of it, you know. I could give you the blessing, the curse, of leaving all of it, everything behind. Do you fear it? The way you could be just like me, just like that?

I could make it so no one remembers your name.

I doubt it would even be that hard.”)

#tw: threats #tw: amnesia #penismp #CH405 #c!CH405 #4B4ND0N3D_FR13ND #c!4B4ND0N3D_FR13ND #FR13ND #c!FR13ND #this was really fun to write! i haven't done much pov switching before and it was a neat exercise #and fr13nd as a character is really neat #lots of different routes for chara development #my writing #fandom writing

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its-sixxers · 1 year

Note

How did idunn's parents meet?

Ruaidrí was scouting around with a couple other members of his clan looking for a better location for them to move to as they were dealing with encroaching larger clans and by that point the Twin Sight were fairly small. They ended up running into the Imperials' own scouting party trying to size up the state of the Reach (this was a few years before the Uprising and tensions were mounting) and were attacked. The Imperials were defeated but all three of the men were very badly wounded and Ruaidrí was the last survivor.

He was lying in a highland clearing pretty sure he was going to die of infection when Signe came across him (that year was particularly good for growth of reagents in the Reach and so she'd settled in the area to provide her services as a Priestess of Kyne and general healer). She nursed him back to health and in the process the two of them fell in love. :')

Signe followed him back to his clan - while the religious elements took her a bit of time to pick up on she was very fascinated by the Reachfolk's skill in the healing arts. Idunn was born shortly after, the Uprising came pretty quickly after that, and all three of them had about four years of happiness before Ulfric and the Imperials ruined everything.

Due to not having that much time to understand the culture of the Reach, Signe wasn't able to pass much on to Idunn when they were forced to flee after Ruaidrí's death, but she tried her best. :(

#oc: signe tree-speaker #oc: Ruaidrí #oc: idunn / dragonborn

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suckmysupernatural · 4 years

Text

Sunshine - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2226

Pairing: Sam x OC Sunny

Series Summary: The Winchesters meet a cheerful hunter named Sunny, who quickly captures Sam’s attention. Little do any of them know what lies in store when Sunny gets invited to join the brothers. Who can say how Sam, Dean, and Sunny will be some training days, a handful of hunts, romantic dates, a kidnapping, and one vengeful demon later.

Chapter Summary: Sam and Dean meet an upbeat hunter with incredible skills

Warnings: show-level violence, language

A/N: I’m so excited to finally be sharing this series with you guys! 2 1/2 months of writing and it is seeing the light of day. A big thank you to @emptycanvasposts for beta-ing and helping to correct my many, many grammar mistakes. Also thank you to @erin-fox-winchester for hyping me up and giving me amazing notes that made this series so much better.

A/N 2: I’m now doing a forever tag list!!! Send a message, ask, reblog, or reply and I’ll add you <3

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

The sleek black Impala raced down the road towards Norfolk, Virginia. Sam and Dean had been alerted of a vampire nest in the city, so they decided to make the long drive from Lebanon. Sam was passed out in the back seat as Dean rocked out to classic rock music to stay awake. They had been on the road for a total of 20 hours, stopping once at a motel for sleep. Dean looked down at his phone, checking the directions; he nodded to himself, satisfied with the results.

Ozzy Osborne’s “Crazy Train” suddenly blared from the speakers, Dean turning up the volume to wake up his brother. This was Dean’s version of an alarm clock, and boy was it alarming. Sam jolted upright, looking for the source of the sound. After realizing it was just his brother, he brought his hands up to his eyes in an attempt to rub away the grogginess Sam felt.

“One hour out, man. You hungry?” Dean asked over his shoulder, chuckling at the brother’s reaction to the noise. Sam awkwardly climbed into the front passenger seat, his legs getting caught under him and almost causing him to tumble face-first into the dash. Dean bit back another laugh upon seeing the taller brother’s struggle, only to be met with a glare.

“Yeah, I could use some food,” Sam responded as he tried to suppress a yawn. The two brothers continued their journey in relative silence, nodding their heads along to the music. Before they knew it, they were passing a sign welcoming them to Norfolk. As soon as a diner was in their sights, Dean pulled into the parking lot. The brothers went in to eat, taking their time as they knew that the vampires wouldn’t be a problem until nighttime.

“So, I was looking for a place the nest might be. There is an abandoned house on the south side of town. All of the victims were within a ten-mile radius of it. I’m thinking this one is open and shut. We can head there tonight and take ‘em out. Thoughts?” Sam offered up his research to Dean as they settled down in a booth. Dean looked over the map that Sam had marked up with the locations where each victim went missing and was found. It all seemed to point to the old house. Nodding, Dean agreed. It was nice when they didn’t need to go searching.

They made the plan to set out for the abandoned house just before sunset, letting themselves relax as they ate their meals.

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

The sun had just set as the brothers approached the house. As soon as they saw the multiple cars parked out in front, they knew they were in the right place. No one had owned the home in years, and usually squatters didn’t drive BMWs.

The two men could hear the commotion from inside as soon as they reached the porch steps. They held their machetes up, prepared for whatever was going to happen. Or at least, they thought they were ready for anything. The front door swung open, revealing a vampire attempting to run from the house. Before either brother could make a move, the monster’s head was swiped clean off. The body dropped, revealing a woman that had both brothers in shock.

She had a machete in hand, but other than that, her appearance didn’t line up with the classic hunter look. She had on bootie heels that added an extra couple inches to her height, although she was still a lot shorter than both of the brothers. Her jeans were tight and she wore a loose floral shirt that flowed as she moved. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, out of her face but still stylish. The strangest of all was the smile that grew on her face as she saw the brothers.

“Oh, hi! You guys must be hunters,” she said to them cheerily, her eyes looking down at the machetes in their hands. Dean wore a confused face, not used to cheery people, especially cheery hunters. Sam, on the other hand, was transfixed by the woman that stood before him. She was beautiful, and that smile, god that smile. It was so perfect that he was surprised that it didn’t twinkle like in cheesy cartoons.

“Um… yeah,” Dean said, realizing Sam was not going to say anything. “I thought there were like 6 or 7 vamps in this nest. The number of deaths…”

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded simply, “it was six. So, do you two have names to match those handsome faces?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond when he saw movement behind her. Both brothers were about to warn her of the threat but she gave them a quick wink before twisting. She moved fluidly, slicing perfectly through the remaining vampire’s neck.

“Make that seven. Anyways, names?” she asked again while wiping her machete off on the now-deceased vampire’s jeans. She started walking towards them; her demeanor still bright. The brothers both looked at her in shock.

“Um… I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam. Do you mean to say that you just took out seven vamps all by yourself?”

“Well, nice to meet you, Dean, Sam, and yes I did,” she responded, offering her hand to shake. “The name’s Sunny.”

“Sunny?” Dean asked, his eyebrow raised as he shook the woman’s hand. It fit perfectly with her upbeat attitude. It was almost hard to believe that this woman was real.

“Yeah, it’s a nickname. My friends started calling me Sunshine, you know, cause I’m so positive. It didn’t take long for it to become shortened to Sunny. It’s what everyone calls me,” Sunny flashes another smile to the brothers. Sam clears his throat, finally speaking.

“So - um - Sunny, wanna go grab a drink with us?” he asked, trying not to make it sound like he was trying to pick her up. Even though that was definitely what he was trying to do. He was drawn to Sunny and didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. Dean looked over to his brother and poorly attempted to suppress a grin. It was rare to see Sam so flustered over a woman. Hell, he didn’t even know how long it had been since his brother had a date.

“Sure, sounds great! I’ll follow you guys,” she smiled. The three hunters walked back in the direction of the Impala. It wasn’t until they passed a cluster of trees that Sunny started to break off from them. Behind the foliage was a bubblegum pink car that seemed to match the woman’s personality perfectly.

“Holy shit is that -” Dean’s eyes were wide.

“A 1955 Cadillac Fleetwood? Just like the one Elvis had? Yes, it is,” Sunny smiled with pride. The car was her most valued possession and she loved to see people’s reactions to it. Turning from the brothers, she climbed in and started the engine. Dean bit back a moan at the sound, looking over to his brother.

“Marry her, Sammy. Just fucking marry her,” Dean said, his tone serious. Sam rolled his eyes as he started to walk towards the Impala. It didn’t take long for the brothers to get in and pull onto the road. This time, however, Sam couldn’t keep his eyes off of the side mirror, the pink car following not far behind them.

Soon they pulled into the bar’s parking lot. Sam had found one on his phone, giving Dean directions. It was nicer than their usual stops, not some roadside biker bar. He had a feeling that wasn’t Sunny’s scene. The Cadillac pulled up into the spot right next to the Impala, Sunny climbing out and gently closing the door. The three of them walked into the joint and were immediately met with the smell of booze. It was a familiar scent for them, the hunting life and alcohol went hand in hand. Dean made a beeline to the bar, leaving Sam behind with Sunny.

“What can I get you?” Sam asked her. She flashed him one of those heart-stopping smiles before responding.

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned,” she said. Sam nodded, leaving her to join his brother. Sunny found an empty table and sat. It didn’t take long for the brothers to return, Sam with her drink and a beer in his hands and Dean with a whiskey neat. Sam hands Sunny her glass as Dean speaks up.

“I’m surprised, didn’t take you as an Old Fashioned gal,” Dean points out. He had thought she would have gotten a sugary drink that requires a tiny umbrella.

“Just because I’m feminine doesn’t mean I can’t handle my alcohol. I am a hunter after all,” Sunny laughed, bringing the glass to her lips. She wasn’t surprised by his question as it was one that most men tried to use as a pick-up line when she went to bars alone. “And I think it's a bit obvious by now, but I’m full of surprises.” She winked, causing Sam to almost choke on his beer. Sunny was definitely something else.

The three hunters all nursed their drinks until Sam asked the question that both men had been wondering since they met her.

“Okay, so how did you do that back there? Take out that many fangs? And that one that came up from behind you?” Sam blurted out. If it had been either of the brothers, they would’ve been outnumbered and blindsided. The vampire had moved silently, not doing anything to reveal its whereabouts.

“Oh, that. I felt the air shift,” she said like the answer was obvious, taking a sip.

“Wait, what?” Sam asked as both brothers looked at her, completely confused.

“So you know how we always have to be aware of our surroundings? Always on high alert? Well, I’ve managed to hone that in, taking the nerves out of the equation. I am fully aware of every part of my body, every sense. Sure, the vamp might’ve been completely silent, but as he moved near me the air was softly pushed in my direction. I could feel it on the back of my neck, so I knew he was right behind me.” Both brothers absorbed the information, surprised by the woman that sat across from them.

“So, you’re just a human?” Dean asked bluntly. It was hard for him to believe she didn’t have secret powers. The question made her throw her head back in laughter.

“Yes, Dean, I am 100% human. I just don’t do things like most hunters,” she shrugged. Sam was in awe of her. She had such calming energy to her, he never wanted to leave her presence.

“Can you teach it? Your technique?” Sam asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Honestly? I’ve never tried it. I rarely meet other hunters and most of them are men who assume I’m afraid to chip a nail. If they want to underestimate me, that’s fine. I just let them take over and move on. There are plenty of monsters out there,” she said. It was surprising to hear, as she was obviously a fantastic hunter. Dean and Sam had barely seen her in action but they knew it to be true. To think that others thought she was just a pretty face was frustrating to Sam.

Sam looked over to Dean and Sunny quickly noticed that they seemed to be having a conversation with just their eyes. They were brothers, so this wasn’t surprising. It was something she used to do with her sister. It only took a couple of seconds before they both looked back at her.

“Why don’t you come back with Dean and me to our bunker? We would like to learn from you if that’s alright. You’d have a room to stay in and everything. That is if you want.” Sam was trying to not to keep his hopes up. There was no reason for this woman to follow two strangers and agree to train them. Looking into her eyes, he knew that he could get lost in them. She took a minute to think it over, taking a sip of her drink.

“You know what? Why not? It’s not every day you get such an interesting offer. I can’t even remember the last time I worked with anyone,” Sunny accepted.

“Wait, you are just going to come with two guys you barely know?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you both know that I could kick your asses in a heartbeat,” she stated simply. Both brothers exchanged a look. She was probably right. This decision seemed like the right one for Sunny. She usually didn’t trust male hunters, expecting them to be sexist assholes. These two were different, though. Dean seemed impressed by her skills, shocked only that she was human. He didn’t seem to care that she was a woman.

Sam was something else entirely. She could tell that he genuinely was curious about how she worked. There was something about him that made her trust him. Maybe it was the kindness in his eyes or the way that he spoke to her like she had some sort of wisdom to impart. Whatever it may be, she had a feeling that the two of them were going to get along well.

It also didn’t hurt that he was quite handsome.

Chapter 2 ->

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Torrential (part.2/3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Dean being his usual disastrous self, fluff🤷‍♀️

Summary: When a summer thunderstorm hits Lebanon, a series of events unravels that leaves Dean surprised. As the storm rages on, it gives him a lot to think about.

A/n: I’m sorry this took so long! Writers block is a bitch but I finally finished part 2! I hope y’all enjoy and please tell me what you thought! (Gifs not mine. Credit to owners)

Most people would have thought that living in a bunker, you wouldn’t hear anything beyond the walls and towering ceilings. That everything would be eerily quiet, especially in a storm like this.

Boy, had you all been proven wrong when this particular storm hit.

It had been raining now for two days straight. The occasional clap of thunder the only thing to drown out the constant patter of rain that swept through the bunker as if it were liquid itself.

During the day it was mostly drained out by casual conversation or Dean pumping music through one of the speakers. If it weren’t those two things it was the clatter of someone working away in the kitchen.

There were no signs of any cases. Apparently monsters didn’t like storms either because the whole supernatural world had gone radio silent. . . Which truth be told, you were grateful for.

But while you were hunkered down and enjoying the coziness the bunker brought, Dean was having a crisis.

“Sam, this is crazy.”

The young Winchester hummed into his coffee cup, eyes traveling across the paper in his hand. Ever since Dean had come to his realization it had been almost non stop chatter from him.

“I mean, me?! I don’t fall in love. That’s just crazy talk.” Dean breathed, pacing across the room once more. His own coffee having gone cold hours ago.

“Hey, you’re the one that said you were in love with her two days ago. Now keep own up to it and stop having a mental breakdown.”

Dean paused his pacing, uncrossing his arms to glare at his brother. He was being of no help with this entire thing. All he did was tell him to “tell you.” And that? We’ll that wasn’t going to happen. That was shitty advice. He learned in that moment not to take love advice from his brother.

“Sam, how many times have a said that in this life we can’t afford attachments.” raising his eyebrows and silently warning him to keep going.

“I. . . Am an attachment.” Sam tried, saying the words slowly in hopes of Dean understanding.

“No. You’re my brother. That’s different.”

Dean watched as Sam pulled his face up, silently saying are you fucking kidding me? You are dumber than I thought.

“Not to be that guy . . . But do I need to remind you how long we’ve known Y/N? You and her have always been close.”

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up.”

Raising his hands in surrender, the younger Winchester moved his eyes back to his paper, hiding his grin behind the rim of his coffee mug. This was way too amusing.

Picking up his own mug, Dean tucked his book under his arm. “And now I’m walking away.” And with that he stepped out of the kitchen, leaving the embracing conversation behind and a very amused brother. He could only take so much before he actually snapped and did something stupid.

He was halfway through the library when he noticed it. The slight change in temperature, the small draft moving through the space sending a shiver up his spine. His first instinct naturally told him a spirit- but that didn’t make sense. The bunker wasn’t haunted. . . At least not anymore.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” Your response somewhat distant as he stepped down into the war room, eyes moving up towards the bunkers entrance. Through the slits in the raising he could see that the massive door was propped open, your own silhouette only slightly in view.

The only thought that ran through his head was: what the hell is she up to now?

Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top, slowly stopping at the sight of you. You weren’t doing a thing that he could see, except sitting there with your back against the door frame, eyes trained on the grey sky beyond the threshold. You looked so calm, relaxed. Just like before when you had stepped out of the impala and into the downpour.

“What the hell are you doing?” He mused, sinking down to sit across from you, his own back now pressed against the other side of the door frame.

“What does it look like?” You smiled, extending an upturned palm through the threshold, heavy droplets splattering on impact with your skin. “It’s so calming.”

“Well, your sending a draft through the bunker you know.”

“Oh boohoo. This place could use the fresh air. Calm down.”

Another small smile tugged on his lips as he watched you. He couldn’t help it. Watching you like this was like taking a breath of fresh air after being inside for so long. It filled his chest and cleansed the darker corners of his mind.

Somewhere beyond the bunkers threshold a band of frogs croaked loudly, only being muffled when thunder cracked overhead. Mix those things with the heavy sound of rainfall hitting the ground and the leaves of the trees and it was a whole orchestra.

Above the bunkers doorway the trees were dense and heavy with water, the branches dipping down as if they were trying to kiss the earth, partially blocking your view of the world beyond. It was the closest thing the bunker had to an awning.

“I would’ve thought you’d have had enough of the rain after what happened earlier-“ Dean spoke up again, shifting his gaze from you to what your own eyes were focused on.

“I could never tire of this.” You smiled, flicking water across his face with your fingers and watching with amusement as he sputtered and wiped it away. “This is the best type of weather.”

“The mud I was scrubbing off my body for a solid twenty minutes would say otherwise. . .” He have you a small grin, watching as you rolled your eyes.

“But you see, that’s where you’re wrong. If you’re covered in mud that’s how you know you had fun.” You mused, twisting in your position to stick your legs out into the downpour, warm droplets collecting on the smooth skin of your legs and running down the sides in small rivulets of comfort.

Dean smiled again. . . or more accurately - it grew. He hadn’t really stopped smiling since he sat down. Your affect on him was like the rains affect on you. He was just mesmerized and loved every little thing about you. Being around you was addicting and calming at the same time.

He was caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed you turning his attention to him, eyes still bright. “How’s that bruise under your eye? I didn’t ask when we got home from the hunt.” You spoke suddenly, leaning across the threshold and balancing your weight on one palm while the other skimmed the small bruise beneath his eye.

Dean sucked in a light breath, your cool fingers dancing lightly across the wound. Your touch was somehow gentler than the rain falling just beyond reach. . . And he was trying his best not to lean into it.

That’s when Dean couldn’t deny it anymore - at least in his head. He was undoubtedly in love with you. He had spent most of his life flirting his way confidently through every woman who crossed his path- but you? You were just sitting there doing practically nothing and yet you were unraveling him with just a slight touch, and he found his words stuck in his throat.

“Dean, did you hear me?” You echoed, pulling your hand back to wave it in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Yeah, yeah- I heard you.” He blinked, swallowing thickly as he took a breath.” I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss over me. I was just thinking.” He continued, trying to cover up the odd wave of shyness that hit him.

“Oh well don’t hurt yourself.” Letting out a light laugh you sank back against the door frame, folding you’re legs back in. “What were you thinking about?”

God, it was another one of those moments where he just looked over at you and felt his heartbeat thump rapidly against his chest. You looked so innocent, so carefree. . . And it took everything in him not to lean over and kiss you right there.

“Ah nothing that really matters. It’s not that big of a deal.” He let out an airy chuckle, pushing himself to his feet and reaching for his book once more. If he stayed any longer it was just gonna spill out of him just like how rain spills out of gutters. And then there was no putting it back in.

Shoulders falling, you crossed your legs, trying not to show your disappointment in him leaving. “Oh, okay. Then I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” He sighed, patting your shoulder as he passed by, descending the stairs.

And just like before you were left with just the sound of thunder and rainfall as your only companions.

Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #bi-danvers writing

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

Text

We Do This to Live Ch. 3

Chapter Three

Summary: On Earth-198742, there are no heroes. There’s humans. There’s mutants. There are even some that fall somewhere between. But when Boliver Trask manages to get the Sentinel program signed, it’s up to a thief and her brilliant sister to find those that still believe in something more - something good. And maybe, along the way, they’ll get the chance to save mutant kind.

Pairings: Rogue x Remy, Marie x Shuri (eventually), Geneva x Bucky (eventually)

Word Count: 2782 words

Warnings: Cussing, fighting, mentions of blood

Masterlist to OCs - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

Two Hours Ago

Highschool parties weren’t exactly what the TV shows and movies portrayed. But that being said – kids from New Orleans always had a flair for parties and this was no different. Speakers had been strapped to the trees, blaring music. Lights were tangled in the trees and Spanish moss, adding a glow where the small fire couldn’t quite reach. Most of the kids had snuck random alcohol from their parents’ houses. Not unexpected – it was a bunch of kids whose parents no doubt conceived them on Bourbon street. Remy and Rogue often made the joke that their behavior was “in their blood”.

Now, Geneva wasn’t sure what she expected when she came here, but so far? She was having fun. For once, she didn’t feel like the sick kid. She wasn’t a thief’s daughter or anything like that. Here, she could just be Gen.

And she liked that.

She poured herself some whiskey from the stash, enjoying the burn it sent down her throat. Some of the kids were already buzzed, more so tipsy and borderline drunk, but she hadn’t felt anything yet. Just a little warm. Walking past the dry-humping buffoons, she looked back at the water. It glowed a pale white from the moon and pretty red orange from their company, calm even though there were gators sleeping just beneath.

“Mon pere says it ain’t gonna be too long ‘fore they roundin’ ‘em all up.”

Geneva grimaced at that thick accent, her ears recognizing the voice faster than her brain could recall the name. Oliver Boudreaux. Julien’s bastard kid. He and a couple other kids had grabbed some chairs. She recognized the bottle at his feet, knowing very well that its contents were most likely moonshine.

“Y’really t’ink so? C’mon, they ain’t all bad.”

“We got our in diable blanc livin’ right under our noses, ‘member,” Oliver asked. Geneva scowled. Having braced against a tree, her hand dug into the bark.

“Oli, stop,” one of the girls said. Though he had remained oblivious, she’d seen Geneva listening to their conversation. Her eyes were fixated on the water, but there was no doubt the girl was paying attention.

But Oliver didn’t care. He waved her off, telling one of the others, “Mon pere says him ‘n’ that vipere venimeuse ain’t gonna be ‘round too long.”

“Oliver.” Geneva finally speaking up was enough to silence the giggles that had erupted from his friends. He looked over his shoulder, those eyes of his as bright and cold as his dad’s. She smiled sweetly, stepping over a massive tree root as she told him, “Shut up.”

Oliver scowled, knowing just as much about Geneva as she did about him. That’s what it meant to have family in the Guilds. You were known. “Learn y’place, fillette.” His disgust flipped, twisting into a satisfied smile as the others snickered. He raised his glass.

“Could tell y’the same t’ing,” Geneva snapped as the moonshine met thin lips. “That’s mon famille y’talkin’ ‘bout, Couyon.”

Oliver tensed. He and Julien always had the same triggers. The same weaknesses.

They hated being called a fool.

Oliver stood up. His foot knocked over the bottle. Moonshine soaked his shoe and the ground, but he didn’t care. He had a point to make. Lanky in build, but towering over Geneva, he stalked towards her until she was pinned between him and the tree.

“Oli! Quit it!” One of the girls stood, noticing how Geneva refused to back down. Still, they didn’t want the party ruined over Guild drama.

“Non, the kid wants t’act like she all high and mighty,” Oliver spat, never looking away from her. She straightened; shoulders set. Smirking, he looked her up and down. From head to toe, lingering in spots that made her skin crawl. “This’s y’first party, fillette. Might wanna pick and choose y’battles. Dieu knows y’bout as weak as de rest o’them t’ieves.”

She watched him take a step back, hating that once again satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. Geneva knew she shouldn’t egg him on. Her parents always told her to never start fights. They told her to finish them, sure. But never, ever start.

Oliver looked over his shoulder, amused by her silence and grinning at his friends. “Cat got y’tongue, fillete?” He turned back to Geneva, reeking of alcohol. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, “Can’t wait ‘till y’mutie parents are rottin’ in cells. It’s what they deserve.”

Well, maybe they could forgive her this one time.

It was instinct, what happened next. She rammed her knee into his stomach. A smirk appeared when he grunted, stumbling back. But it wasn’t satisfying enough. He called her dad the devil. Her mother? A poisonous viper.

It wasn’t enough.

Her fist curled, held in the way her dad always showed her how. One hit to his jaw. He spat out blood.

It still wasn’t enough.

But Oliver was ready now.

He caught her second punch, shoving her into the tree. The bark scraped against her back as the kids scurried to their feet, running off to get help. Teenagers kicked branches in and out, ignoring how some caught fire.

How embers caught leaves…caught moss…and spread.

“Y’ pathetic,” he snapped. His hand flew, a blur in the dark. It snapped against her cheek. Tasting blood, Geneva knew he split her lip. But she didn’t care what she tasted. She cared about how it felt.

A rush.

That was what it felt like.

“Learn y’place now,” he snarled at her.

Her red hair, a curtain between the two of them, hid the key detail he needed in this moment. She looked up. The flecks of gold everyone recognized were no longer small. No longer glimmering and faint. They moved. Spun like liquid and glowed in the darkness.

The string lights snapped, each bulb popping one by one as electricity glimmered under her cheekbones, along her skin.

She looked radiant.

And Oliver looked afraid.

His words were a faint murmur, weak and stuttering as he spoke, “Le fille du diable.”

Electricity flickered out of her skin. It danced along her cheek, as if happy to finally be a part of her world. Each strand and glimmer traveled down her body, cording itself around her arm as she stepped towards him. He stumbled back, finally remembering who exactly her parents were.

“’M gonna make y’eat those words.”

Her fist, glowing brilliantly, collided with his cheek.

And a brilliant light lit up the bayou.

----

Remy pulled up to the scene, making sure to keep his distance from people too nosey to mind their own business. Since the news made the announcement, there were more people. More cars. He tensed, fingers curling around the wheel when he recognized one logo on two black vans.

SHIELD.

Getting out of the car, he made his way to the bayou. No one was paying attention to the thief in the shadows. Everyone had eyes on the news crew, the men in black and blue, and someone else. Remy froze. He recognized him. The man with sandy blonde speaking to one of the officers. Alexander Pierce.

Remy really needed to find Geneva.

Devil eyes glowing in the darkness, Remy paused on the outskirts of the party and watched as firefighters assessed the damage. There was so much. He saw the remains of the fire pit and breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was little chance that she was the one who started it. Maybe they just hadn’t found her yet.

He stuck close to the shadows, noticing a couple more kids getting rounded up. They were being questioned by men in suits. Nowadays, there were always men in suits. Remy grimaced. Still, he saw no sign of his daughter.

Where was she?

Remy kept walking, light on his feet and careful not to step on any shattered glass. The last thing he needed was attention brought his way. He passed the speakers and lights, brow furrowing when he saw the bulbs were…gone.

“Gen,” he whispered, his voice so low that it blended with the wind. Remy wanted to scream. Every minute that passed sent a rush of terror through him. What if they found her? What if SHIELD was already prepping to send her to some prison? He gulped. Or the Raft…

The idea of his girl in one of those cages, a collar around her neck, and no chance of seeing family again…

Tears brimmed his eyes.

“C’mon, petite luciole,” he muttered, wincing when he heard a clang. Remy looked down. His metal boot had kicked a bottle. Great. They’d been drinking. Picking up the glass bottle, he brought it to his nose and grimaced. Moonshine. What idiot chose to drink this?

Tossing the bottle towards the water, he expected a splash. What he got was a whimper.

Remy’s head spun. His eyes flickered to the trees, noticing the branches had splintered. Cracked. Fallen. Looking to the water, Remy caught sight of a leg. A body under those branches, a part of it in the water. “Geneva,” he murmured. It was a miracle she hadn’t been attacked by a gator in the middle of all of this. He pushed the branches aside, noticing the scratches they left behind. “Geneva, bebe, c’mon. Say somet’in’.”

He ignored the voices behind him, already well aware that he had to move fast. Another whimper passed her lips as he set a branch aside. With no hesitation, he reached for her, fingers brushing her skin.

A jolt ran through him. He hissed, jerking his hand back. And that was when it hit him. “Oh…Petite…” he whispered, now noticing the glimmers and streaks of gold passing under her skin.

She was a mutant.

…Beep…Beep…Beep…

Geneva groaned softly, recognizing that sound. A heart monitor. A hand securely held onto her left, fingers intertwined and holding tight. She slowly opened her eyes, relief washing over her when she saw Rogue asleep at her side. “Mama?”

Rogue opened her eyes, the rough sound of Geneva’s voice stirring her. Her shoulders relaxed, relief easing the tension away as she beamed at her daughter. “You’re alright,” she breathed. A statement more so for herself than her daughter, but neither admitted that.

She moved to sit up, already knowing the drill. Her hand met the sheets, but she wasn’t greeted by a warmth or softness. She felt pain. Geneva cried out, jerking her arm and cradling it to her chest. She hadn’t even realized her hand and arm were bandaged up. Looking from her injury to her mother, she asked, “What happened?”

Her mother faltered, gloved hand lightly tracing hers. How could she explain? “Sweetheart,” she murmured, squeezing again. “Somethin’ happened at the party.”

Memories flashed behind her eyes. The party. Oliver. The fight. Geneva’s jaw dropped, realization dawning on her. “I’m a…”

Worry flitted over Rogue’s eyes as she watched Geneva. She knew being a mutant was hard, now more so than ever.

But what she hadn’t expected was the grin that split Geneva’s face.

“So I’m really a mutant?”

“Oui, y’are.” The two looked up, smiling when they saw Remy standing in the doorway. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple days. His eyes were red, hair mussed, and he needed a shave. But seeing Geneva awake and happy? That was enough to make him feel a million times lighter. “Y’really okay wit’ this?”

To her, it was simple. Her parents were mutants. She had to be a mutant. It was just a matter of when for her. Not if. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Told ya,” Marie spoke up, poking her head around Remy. She ran past him, grabbing the spare chair and scooting it to Geneva’s side. “Now, we have a lot t’figure out.”

Geneva groaned, collapsing against her pillows as Rogue stood. They hadn’t taken her to the hospital. The private physician didn’t think it was necessary. If anything, he was relieved to finally have a reason for the fevers that truly made sense. She came to Remy’s side as Marie plopped a stack of research on her lap, squeezing his arm. “Maybe we should let them process this together, Sugah,” Rogue whispered against his shoulder. It was an excuse really, but Rogue wanted him to rest. Truly rest because he needed it.

“Yeah,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Let’s…” He smiled tiredly. “Let’s go take a nap.”

Geneva noticed them leave, but Marie was far too wrapped up in her research. Her actions and buzzing energy made Geneva feel…alive? More awake? She wasn’t sure. But even now, she felt far more aware of everything than she had ever been before.

Shaking her head, she looked at the papers in hand. “What’s all this?”

“Everyt’in’ I could find on mutants right now.”

Geneva’s gaze shifted to Marie. Did she really – “Marie, how long’ve I been asleep?”

She shrugged, as if stating the weather when she admitted, “Nine days, twelve hours, t’irty-two minutes, and…” Marie checked her watch. “Eh, I t’ink we can ignore the seconds.”

Geneva’s stomach twisted in knots. Maybe that was why she felt so rested now. But still, that had been a long time. Shouldn’t she be tired from resting too much? Combing her fingers through her hair, Geneva forced herself out of her thoughts and back at the ramblings Marie spewed out so easily.

Jeez, the girl was smart.

“—And no one’s heard from that Tony guy since.” She flipped the page. “Oh! Just last week some guy named Charles Xavier was arrested! Apparently, he was helpin’ mutants up in N’York. Teachin’ them ‘ow t’control their powers and all that. But that’s not even the crazy part.” Marie combed her fingers through her hair, tugging it into a ponytail before turning a page and tapping on the photos there. “He had a whole team o’them actin’ like masked vigilantes. Called themselves the X-men.” She waved it off. “All arrested or disbanded now.”

Geneva ran her uninjured hand over her neck, feeling the tension rise underneath her skin. More organizations. More names. The Avengers – vigilantes and criminals after the Accords passed. Steve Rogers – given a lethal injection because he was a “man out of time” fighting for a cause that no longer existed. Because he was fighting against the government. Bruce Banner – sent to some middle-of-nowhere place called Wakanda. Natasha Romanoff – the Raft.

Logan Howlett…Orroro Munroe…The Brotherhood…James Barnes…T’Challa…Morlocks…

Arrested.

Disbanded.

Arrested.

Killed.

Banished.

Arrested.

“Marie!” Panic had settled in her voice, coiled underneath her skin. A fluorescent shattered above them. Geneva’s chest rose and fell with every quick breath she took.

Marie winced, knowing she had taken it too far. “Je suis desole, I just…” She shrugged, offering a small smile. “Gen, y’got a chance t’really do somet’in’ good here. Somet’in’ more than the Guilds could ever hope t’be.”

Geneva stared at the sprawled-out papers. It was so much information. Things that Marie found so interesting. Things that gave Marie hope.

And Geneva already felt like she was drowning.

“I know,” Geneva murmured, offering a small smile. It wasn’t easy to make her nervous. She was the fun one. Always smiling. Always easy going.

But everything had changed so quickly.

“I t’ink I just…need t’rest.”

Marie nodded, already gathering up the papers. She would let Geneva read them on her own time. As Geneva watched her pack up, she knew she didn’t need rest. She needed the opposite of it. She felt as if her whole body was on fire, itching and tingling to do something.

She watched Marie leave, eyes fixated on the door shutting. When she was finally alone, she collapsed against the pillows and shifted her gaze to the ceiling. She knew Marie wanted her to be a hero. Something that wasn’t allowed to exist since 1998.

But right now, for the time being at least, Geneva had to be the only thing that could keep her safe.

“Y’look tired.”

Geneva yelped, sitting up and wincing when the jerk of her movements hurt her arm. She’d definitely have to be more careful. Shifting her attention from her arm to her newest guest, she smiled slightly when she saw her grandfather.

“’Ello.”

He came to sit next to her, noticeably careful not to touch her or the bed. While Marie and her parents didn’t mind the risk of injury, she knew he did. Jean Luc was careful. Calculated. It came with being the Guild Master.

“Pépé,” she asked, tugging at the bandage on her arm.

“Hm?”

Geneva took a slow breath. She knew her parents wouldn’t like this. She knew Marie wouldn’t either. But it was what she needed. “I…I wanna join the Guild.”

Permanent Taglist:

@butcherofblackwater

#marvel au #xmen au #oc x canon #rogue #gambit #remy lebeau #geneva lebeau #marie lebeau x shuri #xmen ofc #xmen oc #marvel ofc #mutant ofc #mutant oc #marvel oc #marvel #marvel fic

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dove-actually · 4 years

Photo

“...it was a third figure who drew my eye: an old woman, short and spindly, grey hair held back by a plain ivory scarf. Her crooked nose and the brown skin wrinkled like a walnut shell reminded me of Nita—and when she casually surveyed the docks, her intent gaze did, too.

She had no visible weapons and looked too old and frail to be much threat, but I knew, instinctively, she mattered.”

Knight Errant OC Intro: Speaker Jhem/Mother Jhem

Sir Manolo addressed the man, who was loudest and most richly dressed. But the man’s body subtly angled toward the old woman, and his eyes flickered to her often, even as he listened to Sir Manolo’s welcome speech. The woman with the staff, too, had positioned herself in a protective stance behind her, and the other delegates kept her, discreetly, in their line of sight.

It would’ve been obvious to a blind monkey who the highest-ranked delegate was. But Sir Manolo, who despite his title of Knight Corps ambassador had all the diplomatic skill of a myopic bear, prattled on blithely.

“—quarters in the First Keep, by the Royal Wing, overlooking the Summer Gardens—a splendid spot! You’ll delight in them, the royal horticulturists have outdone themselves…the rarest blooms in the world, fruit trees that can’t grow elsewhere on the continent—and of course,” (he deigned to turn to the old woman at last), “plenty of quiet, beautiful gazebos, to sit and rest in the shade.”

The woman smiled back, benevolently, like a lynx with a full stomach.

“I do love sitting in the shade,” she said, in vaguely accented but flawless Scanian, and she flashed a set of small, white teeth. “Please let your king know I will expect him in the gazebo, for negotiations.”

_____________________

Speaker Jhem (as is her official political title) or Mother Jhem (the polite appellation for elderly women in her country, which she uses when not at work) leads the Speaker Council, the ruling body of the Amaranth Isles. She earned her position after years as a local councilor, thanks to her cool head, her well-thought-out solutions to local issues, and her ability to make people feel listened to and make them get along with each other.

Speaker Jhem spearheads the delegation sent to negotiate the final details and sign the treaty with Scania. She knows some parties wish to prevent the treaty, so she’s anticipating both political and literal bloodshed—but she won’t let either get in the way of her goal, which is forging the best path forward for her people.

Of course, as she doesn’t fully trust the Scanian king, she’s perfectly prepared to walk away from the treaty, and choose a path that doesn’t involve an alliance.

Under the guise of finalizing the treaty, Jhem has come to get a read on the Scanian court, and decide for herself if it’s wiser to ally with them or with their enemies across the Angry Sea. As such, her loyalties remain uncertain, and she’s clever enough to make a dangerous enemy, should Scania fail to convince her they make a valuable friend.

Oh, and guess who gets the fun mission of guarding her and her delegation, while they’re finalizing the treaty.

_____________________

Best qualities: intelligent, patient, kind (if she can afford to be), good humor, sharp insight, respectful of personal identities and choices, a great listener and diplomat.

Worst qualities: distrustful (especially of outsiders), isolationist tendencies, pretty intolerant of mistakes, manipulative, us-versus-them mentality, discounts the lives of people who aren’t hers to protect

Biggest goal: Get the best deal for the Amaranth Isles, that will ensure her people continue to lead good, safe lives.

Biggest obstacle to her goal: globalization, if you ask her. Various powers who want to use the treaty (or failure of said treaty) to advance their own interests, and will not hesitate to sabotage or assassinate Jhem’s delegation to do so.

Best way to overcome the obstacle: find trustworthy allies get a badass knight bodyguard eliminate the scheming adversaries before they eliminate her???

Fun Facts:

Speaker Jhem used to be a background character, but she disapproved and started making trouble in Draft 2

She figures out literally every single one of Sarra’s secrets. She’s that clever (and/or that old -- she’s seen everything before, so she recognizes stuff no one else would).

She’s a little superstitious...which bodes well for Sarra, bc Jhem ponders murdering her at least once, but reconsiders due to 'a sign’

She helps Sarra accomplish one of her biggest goals...and simultaneously teaches her a very unpleasant lesson

actually pretty much all their interactions go like that. Jhem gives Sarra some helpful insights, but they’re v expensive

#writeblr #writing #creative writing #oc intro #fantasy #worldbuilding #knight errant #speaker jhem #i realize most usual writeblrs might not be around in this period but i have no clue what my internet access will look like until mid-jan #so posting this now just in case ;)#i'll boost it after the holidays if need be

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kidney9-9 · 4 years

Note

Sorry... it’s Nick again. Can you do one where in the avengers tower there’s a little space where you can do homework and one day Nicks doing a paper where you tell them about your family, it’s only supposed to be 1 page but he ends up writing 6 about how much he loves everybody and why and then when the avengers are confused at what he’s been doing for the whole evening (it’s a once in a month fam gathering) they all look and everyone tries not to get emotional about it + Nicks just being cute!

hi anon! hope you like this one! taglists are open! and thank you for sending this one in, nicky is just the cutest! feel free to send in any requests you guys would like to see.

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

i will be updating my masterlist and the rules! the link will be in my masterlist after i finish working on it :)

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes with OC! Kid (Fluff!) No warnings! (Platonic Story of One Shots!)

Nick smiled and waved to the workers around the Compound as he walked over to the little study place Tony built in for him. A few of the workers smiled back, giving Nick thumbs up, making him happily skip down the hall to start his assignment. He was pretty excited because this was his first ever family-tree he could write out; he couldn’t in the past because there technically wasn’t any “family” around Nick until his dads adopted him.

He walked through the door, shutting it and turning the light on and gasping from surprise at the room. Tony updated it again, with screens on the wall Nick could study with, and Friday was signed in there as well, greeting Nick, “Hello! Tony asked me to relay this message to you:” Friday paused, pulling up the video that Tony filmed earlier. Nick grinned, even though Friday probably couldn’t see him in this room. “Hey kid! So, you’ve got a wall full of markers and pencils to use now, and there’s some games I installed onto this- well, your screen now. And some interactive toys on the ground, where you feel like you’re playing Minecraft in real life.”

Tony’s voice carried throughout the speaker in the room, making Nick gasp again, hearing about the games. He was super excited to try it out, but he promised himself to do his homework assignment, since it was important to him. He pulled his bag onto the table, sitting down onto the comfortable and cushy chair.

He tugged his school binder out, smiling as he took the assignment out. It was only supposed to be one page describing his family, and a drawing of the family tree. But once Nick started, he couldn’t stop. Even though he could have paused when he described every one of them after two sentences, he didn’t. The words continued to flow out, making him giggle at some of the stuff he wrote down about his dads especially. One of them being “he doesn’t like peanut butter on his metal arm” and another of Steve, “gets grumpy when I say the word ‘language’”.

He continued on and on, until his hand started aching. He looked back to the clock, eyes widening when he realized he spent the whole afternoon working on the paper and drawing. He looked down at the finished product with a proud smile, silently hoping they would all love it. He was just in time, heading to the common room as some of the team poured in from other entrances for their monthly dinner party.

Steve was the first one to notice him, “Hey Nicky! Was wondering what was taking so long, you good?” He grinned back to his dad excitedly passing him the papers. Steve looked down in confusion, but once he saw the family tree picture, he placed a hand over his heart, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by the proudness and happiness. With a large moment, Steve looked back to Nick with one of the largest smiles ever, “Nicky, this is amazing!”

Bucky walked over to the two of them, grinning down to Nick when he saw Steve holding the papers. He leaned over and gasped in surprise and awe from the cute pictures Nick drew of all of them. His gasp brought attention to his teammates, as they strolled over while chatting to themselves.

“Look who it is! My favorite nephew!” Tony called out, delighted to see Nick. He snatched the papers out of Steve’s hands dramatically and looked over it. He read over it along with the others, leaning over his shoulder and they all melted apart just a little. “Awes” and coos of affection gathered out from the team as they all smiled deeply at the papers.

Nick shifted his weight from leg to leg, feeling embarrassed at the attention, “It’s just a school project…” He mumbled out, blushing hard. Bucky ruffled his hair again with a small chuckle, “Nicky, that was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read. I’m going to remember that for the rest of my life.”

Nick kindly smiled to them all in return, feeling proud they all liked his family project.

-- tagging: @donutloverxo @peppamultifanimagines @lozzypoz321

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publiusvirgilius · 4 years

Text

Guilt by association - Chapter 3: Chilling Developments

Aaron Hotchner x OC

warnings: stressed-out oc

word count: 2.5K

summary: the end of term is near, but it seems Ida will have more to worry about than just turning in papers.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

December arrived without fanfare, bringing chilly gusts and freezing rain that slowly overwhelmed the once sunny days.

I had gotten through most of the parent conferences, fully accepting the chaotic schedule that now ruled my life. I only had a couple of conferences left, and with winter break just a little over a week away, I was more than ready to step away from my kindergarteners for a while and focus on my own classes.

As I sat in the classroom at the end of the school day—Brad left before me these days since the study was coming to a close—I opened my overfilled online planner again. I checked it and updated it obsessively. I knew myself too well to allow myself to lose track of appointments, and I couldn't afford to miss any advisor meetings or grant proposal hearings, much less be late to them.

I had my second-to-last parent conference in half an hour:

Wednesday, 12/8 3:30 p.m. Meeting with Anna's parents — Marc Orly and Fiona Orly

And then the next day:

Thursday, 12/9 7:00 p.m. Meeting with Jack's parent — Aaron Hotchner

We were supposed to have met a week ago, but unsurprisingly, Hotchner had rescheduled.

I decided to call him to make sure that he still knew about the conference. Not because I hadn't seen him in three weeks and wanted hear his voice.

"Hello?" His tone was impatient, as if I had just interrupted something.

"Hi, Mr. Hotchner," I spoke in what I hoped was a friendly but efficient tone. "I wanted to call to confirm our conference for tomorrow at seven p.m."

"I'm going to have to reschedule, Ms. Nott," he said without missing a beat.

Again? Should've figured.

"Mr. Hotchner, the end of the term is next week, and we really would like to—"

"I will contact you tomorrow to confirm when I will be available, but right now I have urgent matters to attend to." His voice sounded strained, as if he were under duress. Then he hung up, without even a good-bye.

Is he serious? In the three months I had known Jack's dad, I had never known him to be rude.

By eleven p.m. the next day, I still hadn't heard from Hotchner. Brad would be furious. Parent-teacher conferences were not just for updating the parents about their children's educational development, but they were an opportunity to gauge the relationship between the child and parent by evaluating how they responded to hearing about their children's progress.

On my way to school the next morning, I decided to call him myself. The first time, the line rang until I got to voicemail. The second time, however, he picked up after the first ring.

But no sound came out of the other end.

"Hello?" I spoke into the phone.

Still no answer.

"Hello? Mr. Hotchner?"

What game is he playing?

"Mr. Hotchner, are you there?"

Finally, someone spoke. However, it was not Hotchner's voice on the other line. It was the voice of a younger man, and his tone was cold, laced with a raspy edge that made me shiver.

"Agent Hotchner is unable to come to the phone. And you'll never talk to him again, unless you give me what I want," said the chilling voice.

I froze in the middle of the street. Who is this? Is Hotchner in trouble?

Before I could respond, the speaker hung up, and I remained glued to my spot, unable to move.

What is going on? Is this a joke?

The entire day, I was on edge. I couldn't get that cold voice out of my head.

During recess, I was on duty, and I took the time to gather my thoughts. Jack was at school today, so whatever had happened to Hotchner, his son was safe.

But who had gotten him ready for school? He had been on time today, like always, and nothing had seemed out of the ordinary about his behavior. If I hadn't called Hotchner that morning, I never would have known that anything was out of the ordinary.

The playground looked the same as always. The ground was slightly blanched and damp from the remnants of morning frost. The kids, their noses pink from the chilly air, ran and ducked under the slides and around the bare bushes. From my usual spot under the tree near the building I had a view of the whole playground and the parking lot beyond it, and my gaze fell into the familiar pattern of tracing the students' movements across the yard.

Then, something appeared in the corner of my vision. Something out of place. A large black SUV pulled into the parking lot and skidded to a jolting halt just behind the playground fence, and a large man exited the car as soon as he had parked haphazardly across the asphalt.

Parents generally signed in at the front office before visiting during the school day. This back parking lot was for buses and pick-up only. I called to the other teacher on recess duty to let her know I would go talk to the man.

Huh. I don't recognize him. He must be the parent of a student in another class.

At least, I hoped he was a parent. The man was intimidating to say the least. His biceps bulged out from under his dark gray shirt with the edge of a large tattoo peeking out from under his left sleeve, and his shaved head emphasized his dark, menacing brows.

"Hi, can I help you?"

The man flashed me a badge. "Ida Nott? I'm Derek Morgan with the FBI. I need you and Jack to come with me."

"What's going on? Is Mr. Hotchner okay?" My head started to spin. The handle of the man's gun glinted even in the scarce sunlight.

"We'll explain everything later. But right now, I need you and Jack to get in the car."

Still not quite processing, I handed over my shift to the other teacher and called Jack. He bounded over with his usual quiet cheerfulness.

"Hi Derek!" the boy said.

"Hey little man," Derek smiled. "We're gonna take you and Ms. Nott to your dad's office, alright?"

"Okay."

Jack was calm as ever during the ride to Quantico. He must be used to it.

About half an hour later, I found myself sitting in what felt like a conference room with a cup of coffee warming my hands. A few minutes later, a tall man in a sweater vest came in to lead Jack out of the room, giving me a tentative wave. Derek came in shortly after, seating himself directly across from me.

"Ida, we think you're the last person who spoke to our unit chief Aaron Hotchner."

The blood drained from my face. "What do you mean? What's happened to Jack's dad?"

"We traced his cell phone activity, and it looks like the last time his phone was active, he was on a call with you."

Oh no. I should have known something was wrong when he didn't pick up. My skin prickled, anxiety crawling up the back of my neck.

"What's wrong, Ida?"

"I—," I stammered, then gulped down a sip of coffee to ground myself. "When I called Mr. Hotchner this morning, he didn't pick up, which I thought was just him being rude, considering how he hung up on me last night—we've been trying to find a time for a parent conference before the end of the term. But when I tried him again right after, someone else picked up."

I shivered, remembering the strange man's voice. "It wasn't anyone I recognized. His voice was... cold," I said, for lack of a better adjective.

"You're sure it was a man?"

I nodded.

"Do you remember what he said?" he asked.

So it wasn't a joke. "Um," I started, my voice beginning to shake. "He said I'd never talk to Hotchner again unless he got what he wanted."

This was bad. I felt sick at the thought of Hotchner in danger. What would happen to Jack? Was he safe? Was I safe?

"Ida, I need you right here," Derek said firmly, gripping my arm to steady my nervousness. His hands were strong, and I caught a faint whiff of patchouli and orange spice, and suddenly I found myself longing for the more familiar scent of nutmeg and pine—Aaron Hotchner.

When I had imagined myself at the FBI headquarters—and I had imagined it, more times than I'd like to admit—it was always with Hotchner. But today, when I finally found myself at the Bureau, it was under hardly favorable circumstances. For all I knew, Hotchner was missing, or worse, dead, and the last thoughts I had associated with him were only negative ones.

Derek's grip on my arm tightened, bringing me back to the present.

"Think back to the call. Could you hear anything to identify where he might have been calling from?"

"I don't know," I said meekly.

The tall, weedy-looking boy peeked his head into the room again.

"We got the recording," he said. Then turning to me, he added, "You can come with us, if you'd like."

I was led down the hall and into an open work area filled with desks and monitors. where I saw several agents gathered around one monitor—seated in front of the computer was an oddly dressed blonde woman. She wore a brightly patterned dress with a matching pink satin headband, her hair teased out in an '80s style pouf, with sky-high pink stilettos with what I could only describe as furry pom-poms attached at the heel.

"Oh, hello! You look young for a teacher," she said in a bright, friendly voice.

Derek pointed out each of the agents who were now staring up at me with piercing eyes that looked as if they were taking apart each microexpression on my face.

"Ida, these are Agents Garcia, Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid, who I think you've already met," he said.

Garcia pressed play on the recording, and for some reason I hadn't expected to hear my own voice as well.

"Hello? Hello, Mr. Hotchner? Mr. Hotchner, are you there?

Agent Hotchner is unable to come to the phone. And you'll never talk to him again, unless you give me what I want."

I hadn't realized I sounded so... timid. Had I known something was wrong before even hearing the man on the other line? Or was I just that afraid of provoking Hotchner? Through the recording I was able to hear the sharp intake of my breath in response to the man's words, which I didn't even know I had made in that moment.

The agents began to discuss the implications of the man's message, taking apart the lexical nuances and unconscious stress syllables, but I hardly heard any of it. It was hard to think of Aaron Hotchner as missing. He was so solid, immutable, not just physically, but in all aspects. I suddenly remembered our conversation from two nights ago.

"I spoke to him two days ago," I spoke up. "I didn't notice it then, but he sounded sort of strange."

The agents thought this worth tracing as well, and soon they pulled up the recording of what was possibly the last conversation I had ever had with Hotchner.

Something about my face must have given away the fact that I was on the verge of hyperventilating, because one of the agents—Jareau? I think?—came to my side with a concerned expression.

"Ida? Would you like some more coffee?" she asked.

I nodded, grateful for the offer of escape. "That would be great, thank you."

Once she led me back to the conference room, I could somewhat relax. This agent seemed to be the only one who wasn't trying to peer into my mind each time I caught her gaze.

"Agent Jareau, was it?"

"You can call me JJ," she smiled.

"Can you tell me what's going on? What's happened to Hotchner?"

Her large blue eyes looked troubled. "We can't really say. Right now, we know just about as much as you do, which is why we were hoping to get your help. What I can tell you is, we're doing everything we can to bring him back."

"What about Jack? What are we supposed to tell him?" I asked.

"Jack's a tough kid. This isn't the first time his dad has been in danger. He'll be just fine."

Look at me, less emotionally stable than a five year old.

When JJ spoke again, there was that look of searching in her eyes that I had noticed in the other agents. "Ida, can you tell me the relationship between you and Aaron Hotchner?"

"We don't really have a— a relationship," I stammered. "I mean, he's visited my apartment but that's not what it sounds like... I might have had a crush on him at some point, but..."

The agent smiled, a charming, genuine smile. "I just meant professionally," she said. "If you could tell me more about your job and your role in Jack's life."

"Oh," I said, embarrassed, then began to explain quickly. "I'm a graduate student at the School of Education and Human Development at George Washington University. A part of my research is studying the behavioral development of children aged five to seven, so my advisor thought the best place for me to do that would be as an elementary school teacher."

"And what is your relationship with your students' parents like?"

"They know that they're a part of the study, and they also know that their kids' education will always come first, and that the study is secondary. We do keep files of all the parents in addition to the kids because we have to take all variables into account."

JJ seemed troubled by this, but quickly hid her frown. "You've already helped us a lot, Ida. Agent Prentiss and Agent Reid are going to head to your school to interview some of the other teachers, but we think it best that you stay here for now."

"Agent, it's still the middle of the school day. I need to get back." Brad was on my back as it was, and I couldn't afford to miss a day of school, especially with my research grant on the line.

"Seeing as you've had contact with a potential suspect, we believe it would be safest for you to stay away from your usually frequented locations, including your home."

"I can't even go home?"

JJ's tone was sympathetic but firm. "If we want to find out where Agent Hotchner is, we can't have you becoming the next victim."

So Hotchner really was missing. I couldn't help but feel that it was my fault. If I had just called him sooner, or if I had been mature enough to go talk to him after the apartment fiasco... It was hard to imagine Hotchner, the big, strong agent, Jack's superhero, losing control, or even, losing at all.

Does he know where he is? Is he in pain? Is he unconscious? Or awake, thinking of his son?

And even though I had no right to, my heart ached for Aaron Hotchner.

#aaron hotchner #hotchner #hotch #hotch x oc #hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x oc #criminal minds #fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfic #f/m pairing #winter

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n0-eyedtaissa · 4 years

Text

apricots (fangs fogarty x oc)

(moodboard by @hughstheforcelou, song is ‘apricots’ by diet cig!)

i wanna kiss you in the middle of a party / i wanna cause a scene

it was easy springtime love, sunset orange and peach schnapps flavored kisses. ari lifted the bottle from the back aisle of the grocery outlet, fangs was too scared to get caught but she promised him that no one was watching to begin with. the two of them walk to the quarry hand in hand, taking turns puffing on a long joint rolled tightly in cherry-flavored paper. ari wears her floral sundress with a pair of combat boots; she liked being pretty in a rough and tumble sort of way. fangs loops his tanned arm around ari’s freckled shoulders as he tells stories to the younger ranks of serpents. she’s not listening to him anymore, but she watches the way his eyes light up as he talked. she can’t help it anymore, she’s drunk enough to have the confidence to lean into fangs, kissing his cheek and leaving behind the ghost of a lipstick print. they don’t care who’s watching when they kiss and that makes everything better.

i want everyone to know that you were with me / we’ll dance to our own beat

once every few weeks the midtown kids and the handful of lucky people in the know would all crowd into robbie macdermot’s basement to drink cheap beer and dance to the music by dead ophelia. ari’s brother built the band from the ground up, so needless to say she was their biggest fan. fangs doesn’t like being a stranger on someone else’s turf— he’s so used to rich northside kids turning up their noses at him that it’s almost surprising to find out that there were still good people left to meet in their shitty little town. ari leads fangs through a crowd of faces that only she was familiar with. she stops to introduce him to everyone important, “this is fangs, my boyfriend”. he doesn’t know if he’s drunk, in love, or both. there’s a sticky leather couch in the corner of the garage that ari calls the ‘vip section’. she’s nursing a beer with her legs thrown over fangs’ lap until the band starts playing a song that makes her ears perk up. when she decides that she wants to dance, fangs goes with her and they don’t miss out on a single one of the fast songs.

and i don't care if anybody's watching me

the two of them met up at pop’s earlier that day. they didn’t get a bite to eat, but ari grabs fangs by the hand as she leads him through the brush line around the diner, walking with one foot in front of the other as she balances atop the rusted metal rungs of the train tracks that separated the two warring sides of town. fangs swears that one of these days he wouldn’t get lost when he tries to find his way to the tracks. ari had to hand it to him, though, the broken down train car was hard to fine, hidden away in a forgotten neighborhood of the small town. ari looked at fangs as he laid with his back against the stiff, dirty material of the mattress that laid over the floor of the reclaimed train car. the sunlight pours in through the trees, its thick beams of warmth streaming through the glass window panes. it casts an orange glow against fangs’ face that makes him look even more beautiful than he already was. “i can feel you staring, you know…” he smiles, eyes closed and hands clasped behind his head as he laid on his back. ari’s phone is balanced haphazardly in a cracked glass, using it as a makeshift speaker despite the layer of cigarette ash that dusted the ceramic bottom. “can’t help it” she says it like she’s revealing a secret, laughing as she attempted to roll a joint.

when i'm homesick / i go to the supermarket / i buy all the things i think my mom would get

ari texts fangs after lunch and they ditch sixth period to get high in the bathrooms by the chemistry labs. they were barely in use anyway, and there was a sign-up sheet in the front office that said which classes would be there when… making it much more convenient for ari and her friends to engage in their fair share of on-campus mischief. fangs has a bad case of the giggles, but the two manage to duck out of the school’s double-doors without attracting too much attention to themselves. ari parks her car in the staff parking lot no matter how many semesters in a row she’s gotten in trouble for it. it’s a quiet, hazy sort of car-ride over to the little shopping center that surrounded the midtown neighborhood. “want me to push you?” ari asks, looking up at fangs from under her blunt-cut bangs. getting fangs up into one of the shopping carts was definitely more than a two-person job but ari pushes him around the ‘grossout’ with ease. they find peach rings and ice tea and manage to eat most of the bag before they make it to the checkout stand, too busy rolling down the columns of people-free aisles, singing along under their breath to the 80s classics that were always playing over the PA system. the two of them are in there for so long that fangs forgets to pick up milk and eggs before he goes home, like he was supposed to.

why did i buy four apricots? / i’ll never eat them before they rot / they’ll just become an afterthought

#fangs fogarty moodboard #fangs fogarty x oc #axf #oc: ari katz #ari x fangs #fangs fogarty imagine

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sirjustice25-blog · 4 years

Text

what

In the bible might have killed folks using whats in tumblr sirjustice22 or those who transfigure into other animals in his belly, which one. Or u kill me as finish me like crush. Wiche dude?

Cadillac car place like human teeth or cattle or apes in the dough then hurl cold water unto it and boom the car. Like 200 kg of porridge like dough put in the container.

Speaker cable should be omitted to be replaced with wireless system dude in the link below, wires from ya stereo to ya speakers

https://www.google.com/search?q=wireless+speaker+system+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiRw4mDqeznAhURCWMBHWooCoMQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.google.com/search?q=wireless+speaker+system+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiRw4mDqeznAhURCWMBHWooCoMQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654#imgrc=C7PXBfPDzC3iWM

Civil war breeding those who got the Somali blood of not relenting in doing bad yet with them is okay as they wanna be first, as a loop hole to get to the USA or Russia as they have sent spies to monitor the land and found is above them, they cant overtake it in-terms of technology, money, trade or war, so must proceed with Gimmicks which will not surface, cause its a blessing in disguise their character has been now know of forcing things and wanting their own or-else resort to lies, badmouthing bro if u dont go along with their stupid and silly ways dude

The reason why whites got much cancer is that they belittle people even in photos and these people take what i have describe above even without the prior information and give the whites cancer like mango juice taken with bread by the person u belittle cut ya throat as koo or milk/porridge taken with mandazi/bread the same. So folks take heed. Voke ni mchwi wa vitu, cheki vitu amekuja nayo, nichipukizi bro, yaani nimchafu-anamultitusk as versatile in his ways or doing dude. Pekrith, chieth, nyofrith x2, saying their own Things eti this and that, ya ways now-blocked, sema, bonga sasa. Motor bike to be bought in taslimu way tw, on cash oc not on low credit that facilitate massive dubious ways and Govt should be hard on dat dude to thwart their moves period bro

Now they have made ya like a chicken which is to be gotten to be slaughtered dude, Kinda, they got like ugali in case they get it, they cut ya into-pieces and dine on ya like in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOQ0V9OhN4o

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJLgF1XBOV4

It even makes u lazy cause they are into ya, kinda, ya mind thinks rich, maybe, u should find on how to relax maybe they can set ya free, all eyes glued on ya to make ya hungry but if u go to eat they want ya food or say u eat much. Silly character dude

Black car breeds respect and bring calmness around as good spirit and sign of an understanding and a mature society, so place human genitals on the paint to repaint it with so if u see 1 see an ignited inferno instill the going to hell reality.

Are shoes peculiar with a certain people or certain group of people or they just bought the 1st shoe outcome many, in that if u wear 1 a group has worn u depict them or not guys.

Bill like mortuary, sales men bill should be payed online as they know how to manipulate on how they submit the cash to the relevant authorities to marshal up part of the profits sales gotten to help boda boda people secure motor bikes, tuk tuks and even matatu to put on road b4 in a 2 weeks or a month synonymous with motor bike operators to given them back the cash and return to the authority above without being known dude. With Morgue bill some pay 4 their people on the 1st entrance and write on the book it was promissory to be paid when they are getting out the body thus channel it on the above tricks. Online payment will abolish this dude!! Mobile phone sales men and bread, milk and alcohol does the above to get rich quickly dude!!

The posh coffins can also be made by taking the locally made 1 then u sprinkle cereals or cut grass immediately after pouring out cold water and seeing the flash of light and with anything, made cars, houses, molded things like jets, planes etc

The now get to know the number of household per country by wireless china electric meter then subtract the once 4 sme or small business and get the later and thats why they want every house to have the same, resorting to rapid rural electrification to achieve their goal of disbursing or having a rough figure of how many xmas gadgets like lights, balloons or trees the ought to make to supply, the African colonizers, Hindu, China and other African tribes who have learnt the same like not long the luo, kisii, kamba, kikuyu but luckily enough now every tom hurry and dick tribe knows the same, so it proves futile and a detriment to their pursuits resorting not to open angers but finished.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WYHDfJDPDc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0XOCs86om0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogOI4aZcwio

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYH6Sw3A-BA

In the link above, if people are in to ya, without apparent reason, just urinate on a plastic bin, small 1, then add water and hurl outside ya house or on the road adjacent to ya and it goes well with ya, no kidding dude, what do u no to pride yaself, getting money online or eating the pussy which as well i know maybe more well than ya. Quit dude, when am done with USA, they start talking of china faintly not knowing i can do de same to china wooden structures. I will not sit with them, if they r forcing, is upon me to shrink in my dreams, to relent in my desires which they used rto abuse previously. Jesus with pharisees, woe thing, was 2 way to induct any1 not to sit with them again, after they have frustrated ya, can get to oppress ya again like they did to him, masai blood of being slow on critical issues and food lovers

Ammunition link below, Africa made, It ought to, built with Kenya luo, kisii or kamba as kikuyu teens, why not dude, answer me folks, what u gon do dude!!!!

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/canadian-owned-firm-sold-armoured-vehicles-to-sudan-despite-export-ban/article31716928/

https://edition.cnn.com/2017/11/14/africa/mobius-made-in-africa-kenya-suv/index.html

https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBD_enKE883KE883&q=african+own+made+cars&tbm=isch&source=univ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjRxN_0g-znAhVwQUEAHSvVDUYQsAR6BAgHEAE&biw=1280&bih=881#imgrc=u33B8qGtHtvE-M

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-48653394

mcsleepynelsonfollower or mcsleepy nelson and check sirjustice19

https://www.instagram.com/_theamandanicole_/

Vietnam car in the link below as well as Taiwan

https://www.straitstimes.com/business/new-vietnam-car-brand-hits-the-road

https://www.google.com/search?q=%22Sloe+Vehicle%22&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi8_IumiOrnAhUM1hoKHfZlB_sQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electric_bicycle

Prado if u belittle folks gives ya bowed legs as the side effect. Mango juice taken with cake or bread, kinda, peels of the top skull of ya head if u belittle 1.

When a car like the new Prado got different headlight or the rear 1 in many different forms then it reduces the envy of that car like in the link below

https://www.pinterest.com/y0900/car-headlights/

Helicopter where u can stop propeller just like with the car braking system so that incase of default u just get down on parachute not fearing the propeller will cut ya and remote controlled as well so u control it in a wireless manner on ya parachute so it lands safely.

Some cars like new prado swell like annoyed, they don’t like bad figure structures and hooligans on it, it love well understanding people dude who are intuitive and innovative, even with old Mercedes which love serene environment with few people, kinda, u see it sad, got spirit dude, hate people who are bogged into tradition loves open fellows even some many cars like infinity, they bring the spirit of violence around dude, no kidding fellows.

If u partake mbichi fruits as raw with cold water, u see 1 who hates ya in a coffin, it kills dramatically bro, no lies dude, Christ with little children and road to emaus with Jesus as well as beatitudes. Another reason arrested showing the enemy on how to kill the oppressor via these insane tricks dude.

Made kales if u eat without eating a piece raw or looking outside besides ya this way or that way after not long cracks ya incisor teeth with ya or if one u belittle without cause partakes such

Mango, orange juice with cakes cut holes on ya forebrain, Malachi 4 to cement reality. Apple juice attracts panga accident where 1 risks his hand being cut if 1 he belittles without course partakes such. Pineapple juice does the same with orange juice or with mango juice with bread where ya forehead get big bringing it outside dude.

Mango, avocado if u partake with water as well cracks your hater teeth, even with raw pawpaw.

The women who got Burma blooded plotting death in conjunction with the same men on young men they want by force size of their kids, normally they carry basket, kikapu on their hands, wanting free things without course, king of the Jew and women with Barabbas to cement de truth. Their time of reckoning is coming when a coin is placed on the palm of the hand to see the wish if the cut 1 down, likewise will be done to them dude, we have now known their network dude.

I saw 1 walking like Samson the robust, the Lord spirit around him. He was sukuma, argentina blooded, he was brought to finish the jew but did it unwisely, they will never get it until u come up with the same ammunition they got and u did not have to finish them, don’t get into deals with them. The Fredrick Luggard who met masai and killed koitalel was signaling many of their character, don’t do likewise bro lest ya fail got spirit, don’t join the ugly lest they cut ya or the bad. To cement de fact the jew are bad people period wanting their own progress not 4 others. Time to finish them aint tomorrow but right now dude and its ripe.

Give that kid direction to take that money and give to the house help next door to see if the likes of Vincent see things from his eye, as he must see what she sees. Tell her to close her eyes when taking and giving so we find out de truth of placing the coin in the palm of the hand and it came to pass when many were asked who stole the money and the kid was pointed, u can even use a blind person to take ya thing and give to some1 then we see. Even an incident in the usa once u know the 2, u came up with trut even on plane like in the middle of the sea dude. Mr Hindu stop hick up and hunger, get to how u feed ya belly in a descent way

Buy the fingerprint padlock at kenya jumuia in the link below, secure ya door let them die their own death, the burglars.

https://www.jumia.co.ke/safety-padlocks-hasps/

https://yaoota.com/en-ke/product/new-security-alarm-padlock-bronze-price-from-jumia-kenya

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=timer+lock+padlock&adgrpid=80724797239&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIqan2tYvq5wIVCsjeCh1dqAYoEAMYASAAEgKozfD_BwE&hvadid=402156094782&hvdev=c&hvlocphy=1009822&hvnetw=g&hvqmt=b&hvrand=9461093292742038194&hvtargid=kwd-334221567985&hydadcr=22340_11226440&tag=hydglogoo-20&ref=pd_sl_2pn0jejhzq_b

Get a glimpse of gas powered bus or vehicles from china

https://www.google.com/search?q=gas+propelled+bus+from+china&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjSreCFjOrnAhVNXhoKHeIhB2sQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

If u touch ya mafi is known by how ya hand expands and then get small period dude, we know it dat way dude, just like with things like panga, axe, drills, grinder if u hard annoyed 1 and about to revenge even hitting u with such weapons above, its signals ya of real dangers bro, if u see 1 in those fine days think twice and back off. Click the link below 4 more

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&q=touching+your+feacal+matter+side+effects

Some1 still rude, knows a lot, involved in wanting rich women by force not of his tribe, thinks he is cleaver yet if u place a coin in the palm of ya hand u see her rather him watching his dad being beaten up to death with his close friends such as Gregory Issac etc, watching with her close friends whom they lived next to when they were young. They target is to get like 4 weekly in different cities, take their money or if not the morgue bill as explained above used to buy a motor bike 4 the hooligans as they have now known to make formalin which now saves their expenditure. The motor bike operator return like $4 at the end of the day to facilitate the cartel work which i know not. Mrprophet when translated in swahili then to luo

Gimidwalo emari kikigen kikigen, katek, youthe, to kisumu pacho, athagra nango not sianda, get me straight dude

U think they beba ugali want to cut ya just waiting 4 meat. If u realise that u kill him b4 he does the same to ya. When 1 dont eat he dies and they want that. Mps have relented, now they have investigated scrap metal dealership is lucrative giving some people small capital to start, more lucrative even than their posts, so can even ambush those who have ventured into it or thinking. Folks take heed, ME abart dont take them back, even new dont take hin back again take a new 1. The somali people, got this bro. Click the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WOHZ9QhI9M

Socks, tai or shoes like 10 pairs goes 4 $5, to stop all the monitoring that ought to feed the lifestyles of the lazy, making them looking down upon ya at the 2 points i mentioned dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0HZG8dqMPc

Dont sing to a white woman dat why, let them be prostitutes bro, they think u wanna take technology off them to out-shine them like nyamwezi belle tisa, wanwaleny bwana in-tara tara kanyo, sauli chako, chietha, nyofrith in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1N2i3d7Rls

Somali just came to induct me of avoiding much food as it attracts a gun as plotting crime, folks disatified with little but have not gained their plan and breeds disrespect. I think with war out-break in somali long-time and no justice now, they have known the truths of hell so wanna be their at once as a tribe, its a blessing in disguise. They would long to be served like in the usa or be there but cant happen. With their women let the be prostitutes, wachana na masomo as well as they are intertwined, synonyms dude, yesus got that blood as well as china, kinda, people who dont want real progress but true with Africans breeds a certain spirit with good things, they should just be like right now

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somali_Civil_War

The link below shows killings organized by Dignitaries liaising with hooligans like motor bike riders to annihilated as they have known on how to make formalin by immersing cut euphobia in water then hurl cold water, so they take it to the morgue liaising with authorities so they buy just little amount or put some cash in their pockets of to buy formalin which has been made at no-extra cost, it cost like $120 4 one dead body so if many like 100 cost $12000 which is around 1,500,000, which is put on roads as motor bikes later buys taxi then buses that ferry people to different Kenya cities. Mortuary bill should not be charged to eradicate this. The nation is poor and they refuse resorting to dubious ways thinking wont be unearthed.

Wichita state University i dont wanna be thre and i done told you friends, i have gone to the university of hooliganism and i got a 1st class degree in brutality, then stop many words, dont play guitar to me dude like a cow wont listen bro, well, give me the visa and apart from hitting ya eye (male) with stone to take me to jail i will light fire on ya wooden apartment and it will be loss to ya and jail me 4 years. Dude thats ya want, tell me dude, what do u want, dont u now clearly knows ya time is over dude in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JAa3NvP6f4

Also i got beside the above, degree in domestic violence from university of du-mexico, nyofrith, pierith saying ya own things in books, daytime lies dude, am feed up with dude

If we got a padlock that if u open has a wireless alarm system that rings in ya house, blue tooth 1 or fingerprint enabled 1 and many more why keep dogs 4 male they instigate bad sexual characters in male but excusable with women in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=alarm+enabled+padlocks+from+china+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjpjMb18-fnAhUnA2MBHeNzD8IQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

https://www.pinterest.com/makelock/siren-alarm-padlock/

mcsleepynelson search dude

Vehicle link made in kenya below

https://africa-facts.org/6-cars-produced-in-africa-by-africans-for-africa/

The above kid, when he was being made was like the greatest sex. People whodont have great sex give birth to polite kids.No kidding dude, okna-ng'otho why lie bro, I did not fuck bro, sikutomba to bring a disturbing kid who wants goodie just from me, behave like he knows all yet youn, cant play like other kids. They will not stop saying u want their food or cash, yet its been years they see u eating without begging them so it hurts them, still they wanna send money to Tz with all the explained in other tumblr a/c like E-vehicle overtaking oil that tz got oil they will benefit cause the natives hate being employed and are lazy. Dude get it its wrong, change tactics, or let it be war, come out don’t call other fellows and let us fight to see the winner. U wretched and wicked wanting peoples food many people yet u u eat in darkness or seclusion. Big shame, I still say die, Mr Dennis go back to ya nation, don’t bring ya kids to people yet u still live good than them, anyway whats ya kid with kitten like ear lobes, a people who knows nothing but disturb, don’t waste my fxxxxxxxxxxxcking time, got people to see, places to go, not just with u or ya kid. Stop sickening character dude of even employing dat character to youth as its good because u r white, get back to ya nation. Many desperate get there make it and send money back home, why not u dude, stop being a drug baron and nuisance. HIM Wanting to grab ya manhood and food while reverse it, stop dude, stop monitoring what others are eating dude while u, u get money online, live ya life dude.

Movies should be taken to theater a new 1 to reduce Dstv menace, build many theater people to avert whats related to dish menace. Am eying to open 1 dude, why lie, dont let me die and once i got my cash u see me opening 1. Click the link below dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixxQ8Zx2J0Q

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOT-EVjmEf8

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_movie_theater_chains

The dough taken with cold water, or bread or wheat products taken with cold passion soda explained above u take at your own time not in their vicinity. Can keep them at ya home and partake them at night, even when they annoy ya immediately u cant take it cause they will give ya names like strangling 1 but take it at night in ya own pleasure or free time dude to a shame the Spirit not mr devil as earlier perceived.

Earth crust is 16 km, the green-man dug it long time and left to planet Venus leaving Europe and America empty b4 the whites now in Europe went their to occupy the free left land just like now with going to mass, dude History repeats its self, they dug holes from below to the upper crust as atmosphere, then some they left opened and people know to date though structures have been constructed to hide them while others they dug a big hole again on top of that hole and hurled big rocks then marum to block them, to date people dont know there are holes there but structures as well on-top of them but the white men knows the bearing of those places and now the structures on top of them, so another reason as tourists come to check with other hidden local friends like hawkers if they have been identified or not cause countries as china, Taiwan deemed to be enemies can came like in Migosi Estate and get to the utter crust via them to attack other lands once they got electric-drones which dont use fuel which the white man never fathomed could be so its a threat all-together and china getting to the usa to investigate the same even on white-house land trump meeting dude. It the Gimmick china as E-Asia is using cheating usa they dont want kebi yet writing text to each other using kids to deliver. USA take heed bro, be warned of friends. They want ya to quit, with recent technological advances like E-bikes in Taiwan and other Asian tiger nations. Click the link below 4 more, china even got drones without wings, internal propellers to facilitate the same

https://www.google.com/search?q=passanger+e-drones+without+propelars+photos&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiFttjopuXnAhVL0RoKHQ8KC68Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=passanger+e-drones+without+propelars+photos&gs_l=img.3…8646.13170..14034…0.0..0.230.2411.0j6j6……0….1..gws-wiz-img._rMjWfZk1Lo&ei=uzFRXsXsCcuia4-UrPgK&bih=654&biw=1024&client=firefox-b-d

Mtastop haje hiyo character ya kusema mtu anataka chakula yako natena unamumonita kama ako na do, amanikuchizi. Shortly without pity or shame u talk to him good as u want from him,u think i will strungle myself 4get, sasa ni mawe, hebujaribu kunishow dhach, uone kama natowa macho, peleka mtoto wako mtukutu huku, kufa, die dont want my money then u revise it. Weka pesa kwa simu then show us the receipt that i beg u money. Jinga hii, shoga huyu, minataka vitu za bure, nenda kwenyu mwenye meno mbaya, kikuyu hii, ugly animal. Nyofridh, nyofridh, chieth, mime-enda wapi sasa, pesa sitawapatiya, kwenda huku na mboro ovya yenye wajaroga kama ya neli mimi abat

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Mit mal thel mal thep, thup, thep, mala kwa mala, okoweyo nyato cha chien donge amos says denanu rather delanu

aseyudo nyako manyiewo na gikmoko kana kwamba mimi ni misichana, yani kanene tawuotho kagima asoko piny in a haste to spirit molo cool ni mimi ni mtu mzima i should slow down dude. Awinjo kaka nyili winjoga gi machaligi omonegi gikmoko, eeeya wang!!

Euphorbia in water then Hyde placed make gadgets like shoes, mattress, hammer car, pencils etc. When newspaper placed makes even limousine like lincolin cars, xmas lights, tree, ballons and even flowers. As what u put in the dough process to give ya those gadgets i have explained on the mrfoolsir tumblr u replace them with Euphorbia method dude.

Euphobia placed in honey makes honey buns, chapaties, mandazi, cakes, tea, coffee, cocoa, cobblers glue, gum, belts, tv and even shoes and jacket.

Placed in milk u come up with long life milk products, meat, kales, tomato, onions, fruits, cloths, cassava, soup like indomie, flour either wheat or millet, groundnuts, potatoes, milk shake, ghee, yorghurt or ice cream dude. Why go the long way if ya nation got no wheat 4 dough or rye. When the child belly is full then we start joking with the kid buying them just snacks not hiding from responsibility and heaping it on others while they got theirs. Child love starts from there dude.

Dont signal me by side, still it will land u in hell, the question being “why did you not write even in the local flights where no 1 could see on their eye what u r thinking then give it to the fellow. Folks please do that if at dat time you got the cash to board 1.‘

Nimimi ndimi nilikuwa kwa jela, nikasema wengi wanataka kujiuwa juu hawana cahakula mimi unamonitor pesa zangu kwa scrap dealer hapo tu-mtaani na inawachoma. Wacha kuona njaa bwana, peter, dedan hautashika mboloya mtu kwani wewe ni nani. Shoga hii, lazy braggart, okal hizo miguu zako za masquito utajuta, shoga hii, kwenda huko, mwenye njaa, wacha post election etoke, utaona, jinga hii, kuletea watu watoto, bure kabisa, bloodifool. Tho! Wa-eki, have never borrowed u money dude, kwenda ukufe huko, maybe mtu amebadilika mimi but mimi i dont remember, fake huyu, kwenda huko.

Inducting dedanu and his likes on how to live well in future though living big, wanaweza linda the world if white men left 4 mass and given Rusia with its attributes no they will manipulate other tribes to cause war period, their plan dude

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