#i miss my mechanical pencil man..

[cyanotypically]

Women <33

#i miss my mechanical pencil man.. #art #kpop #kdrama #anime #women #fanart #hwang yeji #jung hoyeon #lee jieun #iu #han sohee #yu nabi #nevertheless #squid game #lee juyeong #weightlifting fairy kim bok joo #itzy

[phantomrose96]

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

 “God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

“Well the order is backwards, for starters,” Sam said. “Thermos worked because you pumped ghost-energy into it. How would you have done that to the portal? You were human when you walked in.”

“Sam’s right. What do you think you brought to the table exactly? Button-slapping abilities?” Tucker loaded up the next level. “It was their portal, and their math, and it worked. There’s a million-billion kinds of math and they probably just forgot one thing.”

Tucker took a headshot and died. Mechanically, he handed the controller back to Danny.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Ask Vlad. He’s got a portal.”

“Like Vlad’s gonna tell me.”

“Just promise to be his diligent little son minion or whatever. He’s easy. Wait, let me do the next level. You know I like the cyberpunk levels.”

“It’s not your turn,” Danny said, reeling the controller just out of Tucker’s wiggling grasp.

“I’ll let you do two in a row for your next turn.”

Danny knocked Tucker away, distracted just long enough for a zombie cyberbeam to launch from the horizon and take him out through the head.

The screen washed sepia. Danny stared at it. You died.

…

Danny hadn’t really meant to stay the night at Tucker’s place. They’d just gotten really far in Man vs. Zombie, and Sam had gone home, and Danny was just resting his eyes between his turns with the controller.

So when he woke to the bright strip of sunlight beaming into his eyes through the attic skylight, his first thought was Fuck.

He was awake, here, morning, school. Fuck he had not actually done his History of Invention report, despite the stupid amount of grief it had already caused him this weekend. He pulled his face out of the armrest, now pineapple-patterned from the decaying leather, and pawed for his phone fallen on the floor. If it was still early enough, he could maybe still afford to desperately half-ass something before sixth period science.

He flipped his phone open. A text from Jazz. “Don’t come home. Make up an excuse.”

“…Fuck,” Danny whispered, through the sensation of his heart launching itself into his throat.

He scrambled upright, whole body shaking at the mercy of adrenaline shock so soon after being pulled from dead sleep. His mouth was dry, teeth unbrushed, wearing his old clothes from yesterday, report not done, Don’t come home, Don’t come home, Don’t come home.

They knew. He’d fucked it up. Somehow they knew. The math. Something. And it had to be with guns blazing, because Jazz would not send that text if they’d taken the “We accept you” angle.

Were they coming for him? On their way here? Tracking by his phone? Did they like Mrs. Foley enough to not SWAT-slam her against the wall when she opened the door for them so they could come capture the ghost pretending to be their son?

Fuck.

Danny was upright. Danny was standing. Danny was shaking. Danny wasn’t actually sure what the next thing was he was supposed to do.

Tucker’s ball of blankets rustled from the couch. “Mmph?” he asked, articulately.

“I have to. Go deal with my parents, I think,” Danny said, because any plan felt a little better than no plan. “I think they know.”  

Danny was a ghost. Danny was gone. Tucker sat upright, alone, blinking himself awake. He was staring at the You Died sepia screen still displayed on monitor, now burnt into the plasma of the tv.

…

Danny paused with his human hand slick on the Fenton front door. The gears in his mind turned as his plan quickly unraveled into no-plan. He had no plan, right? What was his plan? Handle this Man vs Zombie style—open the front door ready to dodge wide, because both zombies and parents liked to camp behind closed doors with bazookas at the ready?

“—absolutely absurd, and entirely unscientific, with no probability of being true. It goes against everything we know about neurology.”

Oh, Jazz. Was Jazz enough of a bazooka-deterrent? Probably not. Knowing his parents.

Danny turned the knob. His heart hammered. If bazookas, dodge left.

The first thing he noticed was in fact the no-bazookas. It was what he was most looking for. And so it was Jazz’s expression he did not notice until second—whites of her eyes wide, snapped to Danny, with a look that would be accusatory if worry hadn’t won that battle. Her cheeks were pale. Her hair was unbrushed.

He noticed his parents third. Compulsively, he rocked back onto his right foot, still outside the doorway, still outside the threshold of the Fenton family household.

Seeing his parents tired was of absolutely no shock-value to Danny. It was at least a twice-per-month tradition to see them haul themselves up from the basement sweaty and glaze-eyed at 7am, babbling excitement about some new ecto-spectral-hoozy-whatsits whose concept had shimmed into their minds at 8pm and now existed, fully operational, 11 nonstop hours later.

So it wasn’t the exhaustion on their face. It wasn’t the stagnant smell of sweat or the paleness of their faces or the stains on their clothes.

It was the way they looked at him. Like their whole world had fallen apart with his foot passing over the doorstep.

“Danny,” Jazz said, choked, a break in the silence. “Things are…! A little weird here. So maybe, if you wanna just get to school, I’ll finish clearing up—there’s a misunderstanding Mom and Dad have with their math. I am state finalist in Math League and have been studying college-level calculus in preparation for school applications so I’ve offered to help them fix their math, or prove to them—”

“Danny,” Maddie said, an echo of Jazz, but it felt worse. Danny scanned her hands for anything pointed enough to be a weapon. They were empty. “Danny can I just ask you something honestly, just quickly? Jazz is right. I’m just trying to clear up an issue with our math. And I won’t be mad. Whatever the answer is, I won’t be mad. I just want an honest answer.”

She stepped closer. Danny fought the urge to match her with a step backwards. Her eyes roved over him in a starved way, looking for something.

“Were you there when the portal turned on?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t,” Danny answered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his face to make it look convincing. “It just. It needed some time to boot up, or something, right? That’s what you two said.”

“That was our guess ,but we don’t really know. The security tapes are wiped. We tried to make them EMF-resilient but a very, very strong blast of EMF could still corrupt them.”

“Yeah. I mean the portal’s gonna do that, right? When it turned on? Ripping open the Ghost Zone that’s—gotta be huge EMF.” Danny’s focus bounced between his mother’s eyes. “Just a guess. I really don’t know. I was in bed, already, whenever the portal started working.”

Left eye. Right eye. Why was she looking at him like that? Like she was sad. Was this part a trick? Make Danny let his guard down, go hey Mom need a hug? and that’s when the bazooka-whipping starts? It made his ribs feel scratchy. Stop looking at me like that.

“Have you felt anything weird at all, since the portal started working? Any gaps in your memory? Any parts of you that don’t feel right? Is there any part of you that feels like it’s changed in a way you can’t explain?”

She reached a hand out. Danny instinctively recoiled.

“Uh, yeah. They taught us about this in health class. They call it ‘puberty’ there.”

“Danny,” Jack said, and his voice was scratchy from disuse, from a long and uncharacteristic amount of time spent not speaking. “Did you die in the machine?”

A beat. A moment. Like when the zombie sends a hammer through your head.

“I’M alive!” Danny declared with a crack in his voice, with hands slammed to his chest. “Look at me. What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only math that works,” Jack continued, his words like chalk, his voice too dead. He looked too much at Danny. “If one of you two walked into the portal, and died in it. And I don’t think it was Jazz.”

This was bad. This was weird. Danny had ghost powers, sure. ‘They can’t kill me I’m already dead,’ was a funny joke sometimes. But it was funny as a joke. He was a ghost sham, really. A faker, a LARPer, whatever Tucker had called it. He was a human who was just kind of a freak now. More of a freak than he already was. He looked dead, for someone who was super-duper still alive.

He’d buried that worry, already. They weren’t allowed to bring it back.

“Look… at me!” Danny continued, mouth dry. He threw his arms wide. “Look how super alive I am! I’m awake! Using energy! Eating food and sleeping with my human body. I’ve got flesh and blood and bones and stuff! I’m not a ghost-expert but ghosts don’t have that.”

This was weird. This made Danny feel like something was scratching to get free from inside his rib cage. It twisted his entrails. Sure Tucker and Sam had thought he was dead, for those first horrible few minutes, but then he changed back to a human and the nightmare ended there. Jazz never called him dead. The ghosts called him freak and halfa and whelp, but never ‘one of them.’ That was his whole thing: being different from the ghosts who became ghosts by something so normal as dying.

He was not dead.

“If you died in the portal, your ghost wouldn’t have been ripped out of your body. It would have been allowed to stay, and then you’d be…” Jack hesitated. “I don’t know what you’d be, but you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Dad,” Jazz said, and she stood herself bodily between Danny and Jack. “What an absolutely messed up out-of-line thing to say to your son! You don’t know that! Dad you’re tired, and just because you weren’t able to solve your math problem in one night doesn’t mean you get to treat Danny like this! I said I’d help you with your math! Now apologize to Danny.”

Jazz looked over her shoulder to Danny, her expression falling at the sight of Danny’s face.

Danny backed up over the door threshold. He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with this. This is weird. I’m gonna go to school now.”

“Danny, I promise they’re just—”

Danny turned on heel. No backpack, no change of clothes. He took to the street without a single school supply and moved, and moved.

It was supposed to be guns-blazing. Molecule by molecule. Headshot you died. He’d prepared for that this whole time, in the shower, in his dreams, in his daydreams in class. He’d duck and dodge and explain himself over and over until they understood him.

Danny wasn’t sure he was capable of explaining himself anymore.

…

Danny knocked the heavy iron knocker. He was in ghost form, as a threat. He wondered if he still smelled like yesterday’s sweat now that he wasn’t wearing yesterday’s clothes. Now he was wearing the clothes he died in.

No one answered the door. Danny phased himself in.

“Vlad!” he called, and his words echoed along the slope of the two elaborate winding staircases that twirled and met at the top like caduceus. Gold-plated banisters. A security camera buried somewhere in the ceiling, no doubt.

Danny phased into the library. His eyes roved the three stories of bookshelves wrapping the perimeter like a sheath. Gaudy. Audacious. Like Vlad would ever read that much. Danny racked his brain because some something in here was the secret to opening Vlad’s laboratory. Jazz had told him. Some gold something to be touched, and pressed down, or pushed up? Or it opened to a button. Or a keypad, maybe.

Danny spat a curse. He was being stupid. He was frazzled. He wasn’t thinking straight.

He dove into the floor below. Intangibility was the only key he needed.

The sheetrock was cold, even when he wasn’t touching it. The darkness was so piercing it made static jump in his vision, some weird trick of the brain Jazz had explained where, in the absence of all light, the brain hallucinates its own. It came with a sensation of pressure against his eyeballs, and a complete disorientation of direction, and he simply just kept going down.

Danny emerged into a wash of cold air. Cold like metal was cold. The low lights of dials and clicking machines were bright to his eyes previously dunked into the pitchest nothing. He drank it in, eyes grateful for light no matter how little, inner ear grateful for orientation that had left his head swimming and his stomach tight.

His feet tapped down to the stone ground, and the air that breezed past him was chilled.

“Vlad!” Danny called again.

Nothing.

He moved by the floor lighting, which ran in trim along the perimeter of the laboratory rooms. It lit things from beneath, made machines gaunt and specimens into sharp geometries of darkness and flesh. It made the Fenton lab feel warm in a way Danny had never considered it warm.

His feet clacked. His breath puffed.

“Vlad!”

He followed light, followed a wash of green miasma percolating from some far room and catching on the particulate of water and dust that disturbed with the air currents. Danny disturbed it too, walking through, wearing its shade of green which his shadow robbed from the wall behind him.

“Vlad. I swear to god Vlad.”

He crossed the threshold of the portal room, where the dusting of green ambience became a medallion wash of golden-green coating, painting every surface of the room. The Fenton lab was one single expansive room, portal anchored into the far wall and facing all the dead and empty air in front of it. This was different. A much smaller room, walled on all sides save for the simple doorway, and each surface reflected the color back deeper and heavier. It was like a fishtank in the wall of an aquarium lit radiant aqua-blue by all the lights within, but green instead, pure ecto-green.

Danny approached the open portal. He stared into its placid swirls, mesmerized, and scared of it, in a way he hadn’t previously felt about the portal in the Fenton basement.

“Ah, seems the cat is a good mouser after all, it dragged you in my boy.” The words came sing-song. They came spine-shivering for Danny, who felt them like hot breath on his shoulder and reeled back, pivoted, fire crackling to life in his palms.

Vlad stood at the doorway, a solid 20 steps from Danny.

“Vlad.”

“So I’ve been hearing.”

“I need you to explain the portal.”

“Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your parents.” Vlad stepped in, washed in the ecto-green which muddied his ruby red eyes. He held his hands behind his back, cape trailing, a smirk on his fanged face. “Last I heard they weren’t taking the news very well.”

“What news. What did you tell them?”

“Me? Nothing. In fact, very kindly for your sake I even tried to drive them away from the answer but… We know how stubborn your parents can be.”

“What answer?”

“That you’re dead, Daniel.”

Shock washed like ice down Danny’s spine. It sent prickles like spider legs across his skin.

“Well, I suppose there’s still chance for some doubt. It could be Jazz. She could take the fall for you, if there’s any benefit to that at all.”

“I’m a halfa. We are halfas,” Danny said.

“A silly made up word by a silly child,” Vlad mused, and the light smile left his lips. “We are dead.”

“I’m not dead,” and Danny’s words were small, and they were childish.

“You are. I am. Embrace it. It’s nicer this way.” Vlad took a few steps closer, lionously tall in his saunter, feet clacking the ground. “It’s very freeing. After you’ve died already what is there left to fear?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re a dead body with its soul still stuffed inside it like a Christmas goose. A lot of things in your body don’t work anymore, but ghosts don’t work right anyway and it is, for all its defiance of nature, a perfectly symbiotic relationship.” Vlad’s smile brushed his lips again, warm. “It’s nice to share this with you. Isn’t it nice to share things with people?”

Danny’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, and it was a human heart, a human beat. “I’m not dead,” he declared.

“Your wounds heal quickly because the ghost piloting you only needs to remember form. It stacks cells back into place and calls it good. You’ll endure fatal injuries as you no doubt have many times in your fights, but they’re trivial because physical trauma is not what kills a ghost. It’s what creates one. You’ll necrotize in places but it’s okay, because you’ll carry on, and it will bother you only if you let it bother you, if you’re too sentimental about the puppet you’re still inside.” Vlad closed in closer, neck craning to appraise Danny. “Ghosts love a facsimile of life so you will keep your heart pumping, your lungs breathing. You’ll eat and you’ll sleep but you’ll find you won’t perish if you don’t. It just won’t be a good time if you want to keep occupying your flesh form. Take better care of it. You won’t get another.”

“You’re psychotic. And you’re wrong.”

“I have all the math to prove it.” Vlad leered from over Danny’s shoulder. He circled the boy, knocking Danny’s balance, who still on a hair trigger stood ready to fight. The light from the ghost portal painted Vlad’s face like the phases of the moon as he moved. “Did your parents explain that part to you properly?”

“No, because they didn’t get the math right.”

“Oh they’ve gotten it right. This time. It only took them two decades longer than it took me.” The portal rolled like static, and its fizzling pattern crashed like an ocean wave across Vlad’s cape. “No amount of man-made power is sufficient to drag the entire fabric of the Ghost Zone up against our own, tear a hole through it, and anchor it to a stable frame. It requires something with a pull on the Ghost Zone, a strong pull, and that thing is a human life at the moment of an extraordinarily violent death.”

Danny backed a step away from the portal, from Vlad, but the walls boxed him in. He swam in its green light.

“You stepped in and you turned the portal on, that’s what you thought, right, Daniel? Pressed a careless button on the inside and now here we are. Silly parents for not finding that button first.” Vlad’s face hardened. “No. Jack and Maddie knew about the button. Maddie explained it to me over the phone. What engineer designing and building their own portal would forget the location of the on button? They’d pressed it from the outside. It didn’t work. And so you pressing the button was not the important part. It was you dying to the electrocution that clicked everything right into place. And while your ghost should have been torn from your lifeless corpse and pulled to the Ghost Zone you instead pulled the Ghost Zone here. Your ghost got to stay put. You opened the portal. You became the undead freak you are. And now we’re here.”

Danny’s eyes bounced between Vlad’s. His cheeks felt hot, like he was enduring an accusation of wrongdoing. And he had none of the knowledge to refute what was being said.

“You’re messing with me. You’re wrong,” Danny shot back. He thrust an arm out, drenched in the fog of the portal. “If the portal needs a person to die in it then explain your portal! Are you so casual about it? You killed someone? You’re admitting to murder and you think I won’t do anything about it?”

Anger flashed like a storm across Vlad’s face. His aura swelled, pressing down with a pressure on Danny as Vlad halted and cast his shadow clear across Danny, coating the back wall. “The killing of other people with the wanton carelessness of half-baked machines is the domain of Jack and Jack alone. I’ve brought no such harm onto anyone else.”

“Then how do you have this portal?”

“This portal? This portal that I’ve had for 20 years? Which I opened when I solved the piece of Jack’s broken math that he was never able to solve until this morning?” Vlad stalked closer, hunched, imposing. Danny stepped back. “My boy Daniel you’ve had it so easy. You had it so simple. A truly clean break. So clean so lucky. A single lethal dose of electricity and it was already over. I’m jealous. You never even suffered.”

Vlad stepped closer, striking distance, arm extended. Danny flinched, but Vlad only swept his cape around, clenched in his fist, and pivoted to approach the portal.

“Put out of your misery before it even started.” Vlad slammed his fist against the portal rim, and the explosive metallic clang bounced through the rooms. His laugh belted out. “I should have been so lucky.”

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A sophomore in college. A man actively in the midst of sabotaging his social life to chase a woman who was already deeply in love with Vlad’s best friend who he hated more every day. He wasn’t sure what he ever enjoyed about Jack’s bumbling ineptitude, or his loudness, his brashness, his poor social skills, his bad breath, his mullet. Maybe Vlad had gravitated to Jack because deep down he loved how superior it made him feel to surround himself with the likes of Jack Fenton… And now, he hated how enraged it made him to watch Maddie’s eyes skip past his to focus on Jack Fucking Fenton again and again and again and again.

But surely there was hope still. Surely it was a matter of time before the rose-tinted glasses fell away and Maddie saw bumbling and inept and every such word in the basket when she looked at Jack. There’d come the day she tested the waters with Vlad to complain about one of Jack’s little quirks, and they’d find solace together in all the things Vlad was that Jack wasn’t, and all the things Vlad had that Jack didn’t. And he’d be gone, back to bumble elsewhere, and it would be just them.

The day didn’t come. It wouldn’t come. And maybe Vlad needed to change himself for Maddie. If he listened to her and Jack’s ghost ramblings, if he could put Jack in his place and solve the things Maddie couldn’t, it would show her. She’d understand.

Because that was the thing about Jack. His math was never right. Enduring Calculus 1 with Jack was all it took to prove this to Vlad. How many times he’d caught a single error on a single line for Jack, like a dropped stitch that would unravel the whole sweater. Every problem, without exception. Jack only passed on his homework grade with Vlad’s help. On his tests, he failed.

So Vlad was staring at Jack’s equation, full of bogus math, which Vlad knew was wrong because Jack had penned it, and Vlad had not yet fixed it himself.

“I’m telling you Jack, it won’t work.”

“Bogus V-man it totally will!”

It wouldn’t. But Vlad wouldn’t fix it for him. Not yet. Vlad would let Jack embarrass himself first, fully in front of Maddie, watching on, judging. Vlad would solve it for her. After. Once Jack had made a fool of himself for the hundredth time since college began.

He leaned in to study the portal frame. The gears were turning in his head already. He didn’t hear the whir of the power source catch.

…

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A tube ran down his nose and into his lungs, supplying oxygen for lungs which were failed by a diaphragm sloughing itself away. He was poisoned from the outside-in. Irradiated by ecto-energy none of the nurses or doctors could fully understand. It damaged his DNA. First obvious in the skin of his face where the blisters of his ecto-acne drained and sloughed. “Acne” was the wrong word. An unkind word. They were boils where the blast had cooked his skin, microwaved his cells. The skin on his body blackened over time. Organs decayed. Vlad Master read a lot about radiation sickness. He knew everything he had to expect.

Jack and Maddie had stopped visiting. They were dating now. It was on their last visit they’d told him, and Vlad hadn’t taken it well, and he’d perhaps burned a few bridges with the words he chose. It was deserved. Considering what Jack did to him.

He’d found the error in Jack’s math, by the way. Errors, but all the rest paled in impact compared to the lambda. The ecto-energy. The necessary ecto-potential to pull the Ghost Zone here. How stupid. How idiotic. For Vlad to die to a machine so botched in its construction.

When Vlad was released from the hospital, it was not because they’d cured him. It had been because there is a certain cruelty in making a 19-year-old live the last of his days bedded down in a white-walled room with just his books, his equations, and no one coming to visit anymore.

He was released with bedrest instructions. Vlad did not heed them. In his beater car, every cell of his body aching, he drove. At the materials lab, he disconnected his oxygen tank and moved through the lab space with the tube dangling loose from his nostril. No one was Vlad Masters’ friend. No one cared to stare long at his ugly boil-ridden face. No one stopped him as he hauled sheet metal, and supports, and bolts and wiring and resistors and power tools, checked out with a valid student ID, from the lab. The lab inventory room would not be seeing these back.

It was a prep bunker, buried beneath a vast lot of empty Wisconsin land, that Vlad hauled his materials. He and Jack had discovered it as freshmen. Poked through its bowels with flashlights and quipped and laughed over how eerie it was. Deep beneath the sheetrock, boxy rooms carved out of walls of stone. Shelf upon shelf of dusty canned foods, and shotguns sealed in cases fastened to the walls. The locks had rusted with water damage.

His arms ached until they throbbed, dragging beams of metal across the stone floor, scratching chalk-mark stains into the ground. His skin sloughed, inflamed, burning to the touch. Vlad didn’t bother to rest, because these injuries would never heal anyway. He hauled, and welded, and wired up his circuitry and resistors with a care and caution Jack would never have bothered to practice. He checked it against his math by flashlight. He took naps on the cold stone floor and woke with deep purple bruises on every part of his body that had pressed against the ground.

His appetite left him. His lungs filled with mucus. The boils on his face had spread down to his chest, his shoulders. The touch of his shirt chafed them, so he worked without one, a figure of skeletal rib ridges jutting from tight skin that bloomed with the projection of his shadow against stone walls.

He knew why Jack’s math was wrong.

A silly mistake. A stupid mistake. Anyone with half a mind for the paranormal should have realized the Ghost Zone was not so easily at your beck and call. Not without chumming the water with something it would rise to feast on.

And in that violent death, what would happen to the ghost? It would stay, wouldn’t it? If it successfully anchored the Ghost Zone to the portal it stood inside, then by definition the ghost would stay?

And was that death? Yes, in a way. But it was a death one would get to keep living. As opposed to the death Vlad was headed for, whose coldness and finality scared Vlad more than anything he could put to words.

He’d fixed the oxygen tank back to himself. He couldn’t work without it, hauling it about on a little dolly with him, back and forth, while he fetched and affixed the last of the plating he needed to craft the frame of his silent soulless portal.

He’d stolen a generator from the sports storage shed. It was meant to be enough to power the portable stadium lights they hauled onto the fields for late games, an absolute obelisk meant to cast light across an entire football field.

Surely, it contained enough power to kill one simple human.

Vlad fixed the last bolt in place. Jumper cables clamped generator to portal wiring. It was a pure skeleton. A paltry thing, like the bones of something already picked clean. Built in haste, sloppy, by a 19-year-old whose fingers were too inflamed to clutch a wrench any longer.

He could have asked Jack for help. Maddie. But he wouldn’t let them have this. They had to solve the portal on their own. They didn’t get to know his hard work. They did not get to save him.

Vlad would save himself.

A ghost anchored to a body. What was that? What monster was that?

Vlad moved. He coughed mucus from his lungs. It made it hard to breathe. So he moved slowly, and crouched, bony jutting angles, painted blotchy purple, all bruises and skin, sloughing away.

He crouched, because the portal he’d constructed was not large enough to hold him standing up. He bowed inside it, a small thing, a pathetic man of little life. He wheezed. He hurt. His eyes burned.

And he held in his hands the remote to flip the generator switch, and connect the circuit, and bring to life the math Vlad had so kindly corrected out from under Jack’s grip.

Vlad did not. Because throwing the switch would kill him.

Deep in his animal brain, his dying brain, he knew this intimately. It filled him with a drowning fear like paralysis. He did not want to die.

He would die if he did nothing.

It would be this one throwing of the switch which could save him. Which would burst the portal to life right through his heart. Electrocute it out of its rhythm, slaughter him like a pig on spot and… maybe… hopefully… drag the Ghost Zone here. And whatever he was, dead, would stay.

And whatever he was, dead, would be better than this.

Vlad held the remote in his clammy hands.

And from within the humming skeleton of his portal, his fingers caressed the on button.

…

The portal sung its happy contentment, mused in its healthy green aura, staining all the slabs of rock wall. Danny swiveled his head, recognizing now the bunker this had been before it had been a laboratory.

“I’ve harmed no one, Daniel,” Vlad concluded, his voice too measured for the horrors it had spilled forth. Too calm against the blossoming terror its words had wrought across Danny’s face. “I opened the portal to save myself. You’re lucky, Daniel. It was because of my fast thinking that your father is not a murderer. I took that honor from him.” Vlad’s head tilted to the side, suddenly sympathetic. “Although, you’ve maybe made the title whole for him.”

Vlad reached out, Danny shot away.

“Dad didn’t kill me,” he choked. “I did this to myself.”

“How lucky Jack is, to always dodge responsibility for his actions.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t. If you believed me, you’d have to accept you’re not wriggling out of this. There’s no denial you can bring home to your parents. If you believe me, then this is reality.” Vlad smiled, a playful glint to his fangs. “I suppose I should have more sympathy. I quite like being this way. It is so much nicer than wasting away to death, like I was. But you. You were healthy before this. This killed you, and it didn’t save you from anything.” Vlad cocked his head. “Such tragic fates, both of us, due to the carelessness of Jack Fenton.”

Danny shook his head. His heart beat—his human heart beat—all too fast in his throat. It made him sick. It made him feel like the walls were closing in around him. This was Vlad’s doing. Vlad’s trap. Vlad’s prison he’d been forced to join.

"That's not true. I'm not like you."

“Of course not,” Vlad said, sweetly. “How sweet denial is. Deny it if you like. Call me a liar. But if you ever want to come to terms with what your father did to you, consider coming to me. I understand you in a way no one else will.”

Danny gave no response. He gave no acknowledgement of Vlad’s words. He took to the air, phased himself up through the sheetrock that had been packed atop the doomsday prepper bunker. Up through the mansion, which had been built atop the portal beneath it, and not the other way around. Into the open sky, he breathed fresh air not stagnant and damp beneath the ground, bathed in light pure white from the sun and not tainted green like the bowels underneath him.

And he flew back toward the portal that made him, leaving Vlad with the portal from which he’d made himself.

...

(inspiration post from @ciestess)

#sham sacrifice #danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #vlad masters #danny fenton #YELLS AND THROWS THIS AT YOU #ive been spinning around like a top on this idea #tw: suicidal ideation

[partycatty]

I don’t know if you’re open to requests but me and my friend have this hc and I would like to see your rendition of it. The reader is stressed about their Algebra test coming up and since Johnny has a PhD in quantum mechanics and deals with that stuff, he offers to help. And as the reader is thinking on the problem Johnny gives them, they put the pencil in their mouth seductively but are unaware of it and Johnny gets a little… riled up. And you can take it from there :)

Love ya !! 🥰💜

ough i love me a big smart man

johnny cage > teach you a lesson

notes: my last fic took all of my mental strength for smut for now so it's only gonna be implied

[ masterlist ]

• damn you and your stubbornness, you're here trying to get your engineering degree and the class you put off all these years finally creeps up on you... and you hate math. thankfully, your best friend has a phd (which still baffles you when you think about it too much; not that he's stupid, more that it's so out of left field for him that you thought he was joking when he first told you).

• knocking on his door, he answers so quickly you wonder if he tumbled down the stairs to answer you in record time. he was always ready to do anything you asked of him, so you knew he was the right person to go to

• you explain the situation, about how you're teetering on the edge of just tearing your textbooks apart with your teeth before he slows you down with his hands on your shoulders.

• johnny ushers you in, welcoming you to his dining room after sweeping the various accumulation of stuff littering every surface to a degree.

• johnny's smarter than you gave him credit for, focusing on his well-articulated lecture but you find yourself missing the middle portion of his lessons when his veiny arms are exposed as he rolls up his shirt. his hands were so defined, so strong...

• "are you even listening?" he groans dramatically, waving said head in front of your face. "you wanna pass this class or not?"

• you swallow thickly, though the subject is still shamefully fuzzy in your mind. nodding slowly, johnny pinches the bridge of his nose before resuming.

• "maybe this'll be easier if we..." he leans over your seated form, towering over you as he flips your notes to a blank page over your shoulder. "here." he writes an example equation, a relatively easy one so he could break it down for you.

• shaking the dirty thoughts, you try to pick the equation apart, separating what you know is in the correct order of operations, but you're stumped when the denominators don't add up like they should.

• the tip of your pencil brushes against your bottom lip as your brows knit in thought. it swiped across the width of your lip, pushing in ever so slightly against your teeth as you desperately try to find a way past the confusion.

• johnny falls eerily silent, fists clenching as he breathing feels hot and heavy down your neck. he rubs his face, circling the table with a long sigh. the noise draws your attention, completely oblivious to how tight his pants were from the display.

• "sorry," you sheepishly look down at the paper. "this is... a lot."

• "no... no! you're fine!" johnny snaps himself back to reality at your puppy eyed expression, like his desperation for you was somehow your fault when it was really his for not knowing how to keep things in control.

• you feel smaller as you sink into the chair, trying to retrace your steps through the numbers. instinctively, the pencil finds its way to your mouth again and you gently suck on the shortened eraser, your tongue pressing against the head of it as the multiplication takes its time in your mind.

• johnny chokes on air, punching his chest to hide his flustered face. he can't even look at you or you might notice the steam from his ears.... why were you here again?

• "you're not helping," you remind him teasingly, and he jogs to your side with a cool breath to regulate his temperature. "did i do this right?"

• johnny leans down, his chin almost on your shoulder as he inspects your work. the error stands out to him at lightning speed and he pulls at your wrist, abruptly tugging the pencil from your mouth and slamming it against the table.

• "there," he huffs out, circling the error with his finger. "five over nine. not nine over five." his eyes flick between the back of your head and the pencil, and the way the eraser shines. he might pass out if he thinks too hard about it.

• he should've picked an easier equation so you'd stop thinking so damn hard about this, he thinks. the pencil wanders back between your lips and it's when you bite down on the pink tip his flat palm slaps the table, making everything rattle. you jump and look up with a shocked expression.

• "can you... not." he breathes, cheeks red and brows furrowed.

• "not... what?" you look down, maybe you had a bad habit in the math process?

• "don't do that." he's being vague, it's getting on your nerves.

• "you're gonna have to be clearer."

• "keep that thing away from your mouth," johnny points at your fingers twirling the pencil, an accusatory finger firm like he caught it committing a crime.

• "the pencil?" you're caught off guard, wondering what his issue is.

• "yes, the damn pencil!" he groans, running a hand down his face. "can't think straight for a single second when you're... you know."

• it clicks in your head, what he's asking of you. it flusters you but also fills you with an egotistical desire. you always had a lingering crush on your best friend, but you never wanted to act on it out of fear of losing the best thing that ever happened to you. johnny's deep, dark voice makes your core stir as you think about the possibilities, how to test the waters from here.

• you slowly place it flat against your tongue, trying to ignore the taste as you relish in the way johnny twitches his eye at the sight. he wants to look away but you're forcing him to, that knowing glint fatal for his heart. the thought of your tongue holding the heavy weight of his thumb, or worse, his dick, is driving him up the wall.

• johnny stomps beside you, grabbing your wrist and pulling the pencil away, managing to throw it out of your grasp and capturing your lips with his own as the pencil rolls off on its own adventure.

• his kiss is consuming, far too much for your mind as you grow dizzy at the loss of breath. his hands pull at your face and neck, trying to squish your face against his as he swallows every whimper and gasp for breath you expel.

• just as he pulls away to get oxygen, his thumb slides between your lips and presses against your tongue, your hot and heavy breath driving him wild.

• "are you really trying to do this to me?" he asks as your lips wrap around his finger, sucking gently. his eyes flutter shut and he groans, nodding downward with his head.

• "maybe," you quietly reply through his finger, sinking to your knees in front of him, sliding your hands up his outer thighs. you're perfectly in line with his crotch, but your eyes are too busy admiring the flustered actor above you as he looks down his nose. he pulls his thumb away, groaning at the thin trail of saliva that falls down your lip from the loss.

• "i'll teach you a lesson," he reaches for his belt buckle, the clinking of metal dulling every sense but your hearing.

• you can study later... probably.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

[bloodynereid]

Those Sunlit Kisses

part 2 here ! part 3 here! and part 4 here!

pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x oc (lucy everett)

tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, death, mentions of nazis and hitler, domestic fluff, flirting, kissing, angsty ending-ish

description: a young man and woman meet while they're on a forced break and end up spending a weekend together.

a/n: so... this fic has sort of invaded my life these last few days and it's longer than i thought it would be (12k is insane). i've sort of become attached to it in a weird way ??? idk when you write something as a coping mechanism it sticks with you. i sort of have a plan for how this universe will work so there will probably be a few little fics that happen within it, look out for those! also this was lowkey inspired by before sunrise (haven't watched it but i've seen enough edits) and since we know real rosie fell in love and married his wife within like 3 days this is hopefully not all that ooc. ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy this and pls let me know your thoughts or if you want to send in any asks about lucy they are all welcome in my inbox! OH and this isn't about the real rosie, just the fictional character portrayed by nate mann (*swoon*). and to cut off this insanely long author's note, thank you for reading <333

Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.

The thin pages of The Great Gatsby turned in his hands, it almost felt too sticky to read but he hadn’t brought anything else with him, and he didn’t feel content by just looking out of the window.

Rosie didn’t like to take breaks but he knew he needed one after the last mission. His new crew was almost too different. He never faulted anyone for not reuping but it was still strange. So after another successful ten missions he was sent off. At least he wasn’t sent to the Flak House again.

The train finally ambled to a stop and Rosie caught a glimpse of the town name, this was his stop. Quickly grabbing the sparse luggage he had brought with him, Rosie walked off the train and onto the tiny platform. The loud whistle made him jump as the train started to move away.

At least he was finally here.

Lucy was daydreaming again. The taste of pencil filled her mouth as she nervously bit down on the wood. She was feeling better, better than she had in a while but she still felt like she was missing, well, everything.

She had just spent the past few weeks researching and slaving over an article on Hitler’s propaganda and it was a good article. Maybe even a great one, but the years spent working on articles about that vile monster were taking their toll on her.

Lucy could distinctly remember when her editor called her into his office after she had snapped at one of the top correspondents who made a comment about women belonging in the kitchen. 

“I can’t have this anymore. Do you understand what I’m risking by even having a woman on my team? You may be good, but you’re not that good. Now take a damn break before I have to bar you from this bloody office!” 

She understood that it was for her own good but his words stung. It irked her that a man was making her take a break when he would let any of her male counterparts strut around doing whatever they pleased and yelling at secretaries.

So Lucy booked a ticket and left on the afternoon train headed for her hometown. A place almost completely untouched by war… at least for now. She had spent the first few days in bed, trying to recover from the complete exhaustion that five years of war had wrought on her. Lucy also spent that time remembering.

Her parents had died a few months before Hitler invaded Poland. They passed away within weeks of each other in the same house that Lucy was in now. She was almost glad that they didn’t have to experience another war, even if she missed them more than she could handle sometimes.

Her father had risen through the ranks in the Great War, eventually becoming a Colonel and earning a few medals for his service. Lucy’s mother was a singer, she had met and fallen in love with John Everett during one of her performances when she caught his eye from across the room. Diana Everett always insisted it was love at first sight.

They were loving parents and did what they could to make Lucy’s childhood a happy one. Always aiding her in any of her hobbies, and allowing her to pursue her dream of becoming a journalist, even at a time when women were expected to go into gentler trades.

Lucy’s father was the one to die first, he had had a bad cough when Lucy first left for London and that quickly evolved into something worse. Lucy was able to make it back for the funeral and she spent the next few weeks watching as her mother became a shell of herself. One day she just found her mother lying in bed clutching a photo of her late husband and no longer breathing.

The doctors said she died of a heart attack but Lucy knew it was from a broken heart. The entire experience nearly shattered Lucy, she barely cried at either funeral and threw herself into her work, slowly getting more and more recognition for her radical articles informing the British people about the Nazis and Hitler.

But during those first few days at her childhood home, Lucy finally allowed herself to crack. She spent hours writing in her personal diary and crying more tears than she thought possible. Until Friday, when she finally made the decision to pull herself together, she still felt lost but at least she was writing something other than distressing poetry.

So now Lucy sat at her desk, the end of a pencil resting on her lips and the start of a rough outline of a story in front of her. It was a new day.

The smell of the sea filled Rosie’s senses, it felt strange to be walking through a town that looked normal, with no gaping wounds left by bombings. It gave him a renewed sense of duty, places like this needed to be kept safe from the monsters.

He had rented a little room in a B&B ten minutes from the beach. It was nestled between two colorful houses, one painted light green and the other white with a wash of blue. He overheard the sounds of jazz echoing from the blue one, and the soft tones of a woman singing along.

Rosie’s face broke out into a smile and he started humming before looking back at the B&B and heading into the cozy atmosphere. An old woman with a cheerful smile greeted him and took one look at his uniform before upgrading him to one of the larger rooms. He thanked her profusely before heading up the creaking staircase and depositing his luggage onto the quilt-covered bed.

After a few hours of work on the short story, Lucy needed a break and the outside was calling to her. Boiling some water in her favorite kettle, she put on a record and started to hum and eventually sing to one of her mum’s favorite songs.

Once the water was boiled, Lucy carefully went through the motions of pouring it over the Earl Gray leaves in the teapot and letting it steep for a while before straining it into a cup and pouring a splash of milk over it. All the while singing just like her mother used to do when she prepared tea for her.

Armed with a book and a steaming cup of tea, Lucy opened the front door of the house and sat on the porch swing. Carefully placing the cup on the side table and opening up the first pages of her book, Lucy looked around at the front garden. She could almost hear the sounds of joyful laughter and screams from her childhood when she used to play with the neighborhood kids on that very lawn. 

With her bare feet up on the porch swing and the milky goodness of tea in her mouth, Lucy started to read the first pages of The Great Gatsby, and settled in for a book she had been waiting too long to read.

Rosie had changed into his civies before grabbing a spare towel and his book. He had to stop the owner for directions to the beach but other than that he was excited to see the ocean, and experience the sun for the first time in a long while.

As he headed down the street he was surprised to find a woman sitting on the porch of the blue house he had seen earlier. Her blonde hair was curled around her face and she was wearing an outfit similar to his own - a blue button down shirt and loose black pants. In her hands was a copy of a book that was identical to one he held in his hand.

All Rosie could think about was that she was beautiful. He was openly gaping in the middle of a sidewalk because a woman he didn’t even know had completely enraptured him. Shaking himself out of his reverie after he realized just how long he had been staring at her, he was almost tempted to say something, anything. Just to have her look at him.

He just couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. Rosie had always been a shy person, especially as a kid but it seemed like all those years of shyness were finally catching up to him. So instead of saying anything, Rosie just turned and walked over to the beach. His knuckles clenched around his own copy of The Great Gatsby, imagining the ways that he could approach the beautiful woman of the blue house and how the conversation would go.

Maybe he could ask her about the book, or the music streaming out of her window. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner or… suddenly Rosie’s thought process stopped short when he had the awful realization that the woman could be married. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to the beach when the sand crunched under foot and he was thrown off balance. Taking a few moments to steady himself he walked along until he found a sand dune that looked nice enough. All the while thinking of all the ways the blonde beauty could reject him.

Rosie had now convinced himself it would be the worst idea on Earth to even approach her, so he settled onto his blanket and cracked open his book. Allowing for the sun to finally seep into his pores and getting lost in the pages of Gatsby’s own romantic woes.

After all the tea was drunk and Lucy had gotten through quite a bit of The Great Gatsby, she decided to get back to writing. Instead of going inside Lucy quickly grabbed a picnic blanket and spread it out in the front lawn. The outline for her short story was coming along nicely and she needed sun after spending the last five years under a constant cover of smog and rain in London. 

She also managed to make a couple of sandwiches to serve as her lunch and spread herself out onto the soft fabric of the blanket. Squinting her eyes in the sun she started to elaborate a bit more on the brother in her story, ruminating about how she would have loved to have siblings.

Once she had completed half of the outline, Lucy’s eyes travelled from the cream page to the sidewalk, where a few mothers were milling around with their children. Pushing them in prams or trying to balance picnic baskets and food as the kids ran circles around them. A warm smile spread itself across Lucy’s face, this town was like her little corner of heaven.

It was mid afternoon when she first spotted him, Lucy had abandoned her writing a while ago in favor of people watching and basking in the rays of sun. She could have gone to the beach, but she couldn’t be bothered to move from her lawn where the sun was hitting just right.

The man looked about her age, he was wearing civilian clothes but he had an air about him that made Lucy think he was at least part of some branch of the military. He had dark curly hair and a mustache and he looked like an angel sent down from heaven. In his hand, Lucy spied a copy of the very book sitting next to her and a towel covered in sand. He must have been at the beach.

Lucy knew she was blatantly staring but he was just so pretty. She was used to the men that made up her London office, balding and sexist, who flirted with her like she was an object to be used. So whenever she ventured out into the real world Lucy was basically set in a tailspin by the array of people that interested her, and for some reason this strange man made her heart skip a beat.

Almost like she had wished it to happen, the man caught her stare and smiled shyly. Bringing up his free hand in an awkward wave. Cute. In return, Lucy beamed at him and waved back, before quickly grabbing her copy of The Great Gatsby and lifting it up.

Rosie headed back from the beach feeling renewed, and he was also hopeful that he might get another glance at the beautiful blonde from the blue house. Ever lost in his thoughts, Rosie didn’t even realize he was on the sidewalk that led to his B&B until he caught the glance of the woman from the porch… except this time she was lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard. 

He smiled at her when he realized she was staring at him, at him! Then he did the stupidest thing he could think of and waved. Rosie started to berate himself for how idiotic he was being when the blonde waved back and smiled at him with a smile that had his breath catching.

A moment later she held up her book, a copy of which he was also carrying, and he smiled even more broadly.

“Good book?” She called out to him with a voice that reminded him of the movies. A crisp British accent laced with laughter.

“It sure is.” Rosie answered, almost feeling slightly ashamed of his American accent which sounded so much more grating in comparison to hers. 

“I’m Lucy!” The woman said, standing up and brushing herself off as she walked over to the whitewashed fence so she was now only a meter away from Rosie. How he wished she was even closer.

“I’m Rosie.”

“Ah, an American. I knew it!” Rosie blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Hey! I never said it was a bad thing. It’s nice to meet you, Rosie. You have a pretty accent.”

“I think that’s the first time one of you Brits has ever said that to me.”

“We haven’t been very welcoming, have we? Well that must be remedied instantly! How have you been enjoying good ol’ Britain?” Rosie felt like he was watching a band play the most incredible set, Lucy talked like she could charm the entire air force in just seconds.

“First time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Rosie said, exaggerating the comment by squinting at her, making Lucy laugh - the sound making a blush spread across Rosie’s face, he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. 

“You and me both. I like to think of it as one of Britain's charms but it does get rather melancholic, don’t you think? Where are you usually stationed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Thorpe Abbotts, I’m one of the pilots.”

“A fighter pilot?”

“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”

“Ah the big birds, that suits you better I would say.” Rosie inclined his head in agreement which had Lucy smiling at him. 

“I’m a war correspondent - although I haven’t been on the front lines quite yet. My editor still has rather old-fashioned beliefs about women and war.” Lucy’s eyes dimmed at the last part which had Rosie wincing.

“They should feel lucky to have you, not the other way around.” Blush covered Lucy’s cheeks at his statement and Rosie felt himself smile triumphantly.

“Oh you charmer. Would you like to come in for some tea or water, maybe?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Lucy felt a certain giddiness encasing her body, she never did this. She never invited strange men, albeit handsome strange men, into her home and yet she was doing this. At least he didn’t seem like an axe murderer, and he was an American! Mostly she was just trying to overcome the nerves of having someone she actually liked showing interest in her.

Rosie quickly followed her into the house, helping her carry the picnic blanket she had been using as well as all her writing materials. So he truly was a gentleman after all.

The record had stopped spinning a while ago so when Lucy saw Rosie eying the player she quickly took the blanket and papers out of his hands.

“Why don’t you put on some music? I need to put these things away anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go right ahead.” Rosie smiled gratefully and walked over to the record player, Lucy watched him flick through the various options and let herself smile. She needed some good in her life, she was going to let herself have this, even if it’s only for a few hours.

Turning around, Lucy folded the blanket and set it on one of the wooden chairs by the door, placing the book on top of it before bounding over to the study and placing the sheets of paper into a neat pile next to the typewriter. The sounds of Artie Shaw suddenly filled the atmosphere and Lucy quickly walked back over to the living room, making the creaks of the wooden floor boards alert her presence.

Lucy found Rosie staring out of the window and tapping on the frame in time with the music. He looked completely lost in thought that Lucy almost felt bad disturbing him.

“Rosie?”

“Hmm?”

“Water?”

“I would love some.” Rosie said as he turned from the window and smiled at Lucy, her nerves of bothering him dissipating in an instant when he set his gray eyes on hers. “Do you need any help getting it?”

“No, just keep choosing good music and we should be fine.” Lucy turned to get to the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses as Rosie trailed in behind her. Leaning against the door frame as he watched her move around the kitchen. 

“You have a great collection.”

“That would be my parents’ accomplishment. They drilled good music taste into me.” Lucy said with a sad smile on her face as she poured out some water from one of the pitchers.

“My mom was the same way. The one problem is that I am in no way musically inclined, I just know what sounds good.”

“Have you tried to sing?” Lucy asked with a teasing smile as she passed him the glass.

“Oh I have, you do not want to be there when that happens.”

“How bad?”

“Horrifying. I sound like a dying goat.” They both burst out laughing and Lucy felt a warm feeling spread through her limbs, it almost felt like she was being doused in joy.

“I cannot wait for the day when I hear you sing.”

“Why? So you can ridicule me? That will not be happening in a million years, ma’am.”

“I would never ridicule you! How can you think so lowly of me?”

“I barely even know you-”

“Exactly.” Lucy interrupted with a serious look on her face that had Rosie chuckling again. They quieted down into a comfortable silence as they each took little sips of water every now and then, just watching the way the other person reacted.

“How are you liking the book?” Rosie finally asked.

“I’m enjoying it, it isn’t the kind of book I usually pick up but it’s a nice reminder of a time when war wasn’t a part of daily life. I do have to say though, you Americans are quite strange.”

“I feel like I should rebuke that but it’s the truth. Doesn’t it almost feel like the book was set in a completely different world?”

“Yes!” Lucy fervently agreed as they started to drift back towards the living room, settling into the worn couch.

Over the next few hours, Lucy and Rosie inched closer and closer together on the couch. They talked about everything under the sun; their lives, their favorite books, pictures, music, war and their lives before it all. Lucy let Rosie take charge of the music and their conversation was soundtracked by various jazz hits and whatever obscure artist Rosie seemed to find fascinating in her collection.

Eventually the conversation turned to family and Lucy avidly started to talk about her parents, a subject which she almost never discussed with anyone she had just met.

“So yeah my mum met my dad at one of the pubs she was performing at and the rest is history.”

“Well now I have to get you to sing, it must run in the family! And it’s only fair.”

“Hey! That was a joke.” Lucy screeched, she never liked singing in front of other people she preferred doing it in the comfort of her own home and doing it alone.

“Aha so you do admit you were trying to ridicule me!” Rosie said triumphantly as he pointed at Lucy, making her face twist in complete disbelief.

“That is what you got from that?”

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”

“It is not! And I will not sing for you.”

“One day you will.”

“Will not.”

“Will.”

“You stupid, stubborn man.” Lucy said poking at Rosie’s shoulder, making him devolve into hysterics which had Lucy smiling stupidly at the man in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach hadn’t really gone away the entire time she had been talking to him, they had somehow managed to get worse.

That was when she realized how late it had gotten, the sun was just beginning to set and the living room was set alight with the glowing colors of the sky.

“Oh dear, I have kept you too late. You don’t have somewhere to be, do you?” Lucy asked nervously, once Rosie had started to calm down.

“No, no, not at all. I didn’t have much time to make any plans before I came here.”

“Well in that case how would you like to have dinner with me?” Lucy didn’t show it but she was practically buzzing with nerves - hoping and praying that he would say yes.

“Are you kidding?” Rosie was looking at Lucy with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face that had Lucy wondering if he truly thought she was messing with him.

“Not at all.”

“Well, in that case, I would love to have dinner with you.”

“Uh- wonderful. I haven’t cooked anything so you wouldn’t mind going out, do you?”

“Of course not, it would be a good opportunity to explore the town.”

“I’ll just grab my coat and we can go?” Lucy asked tentatively and Rosie nodded before settling back into the couch. Lucy yelled out a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and disappeared into the hallways of the house.

Rosie felt like he was in paradise. Who would have known that going on mandatory leave would get him this? He wasn’t sure he had ever bonded with someone as quickly as he had bonded with Lucy. It was as if they were twin souls, linked so that it was inevitable that they would meet at one point or another.

The light in the living room changed as the sun started to set, it played with the shadows on the walls and highlighted the framed photographs and art which told a story of a happy childhood and a happy family. It reminded him of his own childhood home. Rosie hadn’t even realized how much he had missed laughing. Something that suddenly just became so easy around Lucy.

Rosie had to give it to his self-restraint, he somehow managed not to kiss Lucy even though many a time in the past few hours he fantasized of brushing his hands through her blonde curls and kissing her like his life depended on it.

“Rosie? Do you want me to find you a coat?” A muffled yell was heard from somewhere upstairs which had him looking up towards the ceiling.

“No, I think I should be fine!” Rosie yelled back.

“Are you sure? I can probably find something that fits you.”

“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”

“Okay! Don’t go around blaming me when you’re freezing to death.”

Shaking his head in mock resolution and quietly chuckling, Rosie stood up from his place on the green couch and went to pick up his copy of The Great Gatsby and the towel he had brought with him all those hours ago. But he stopped short when he saw Lucy’s own copy haphazardly strewn on one of the wooden chairs that seemed to be scattered throughout the house. With a sly smile, Rosie left the book and walked towards the front door, empty handed.

“Hi! Sorry that took so long. My hair was a mess, are you ready?” Lucy quickly said as she basically ran down the stairs, a motion that had Rosie’s hair raising in alarm - worried that she would somehow trip and fall to a quick death.

“You’re going to crack your head open one of these days if you keep going down stairs that quickly.” Rosie said when she finally reached the bottom and went to grab her purse from the side table.

“I know those stairs like the back of my hand, Rosie. If I ever trip and fall I’m blaming your handsome face.” Rosie made an expression of mock horror, but inside he felt like a stupid teenager.

“I’m offended by such an allegation. It would be your fault for getting distracted.” Lucy hummed back in mock reply before opening the door and walking out into the brisk night air, which had Rosie quickly following after her.

“Milady.” Rosie said, as he offered his arm to Lucy once she had shut and locked the door. Lucy beamed at him before slipping her arm around his, physically linking them together.

“Alright, I know this little Italian place that a friend’s family owns. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. I’ve been eating army rations for the past few years, anything that isn’t that sounds incredible.”

The pair roamed through the cobbled streets, in search of the little alleyway that housed the restaurant and basking in each other’s presence. When they finally arrived at the quaint little restaurant, Rosie was surprised to see that there were various other couples seated and eating Italian dishes.

“Lucy! You didn’t tell us you were back in town.” Said a voice from behind the counter, it belonged to a tall, brunette woman whose hair was tied back into an elaborate bun. 

“Hi, Renata! Yeah, sorry, this was a last minute thing. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Now who is this handsome man?”

“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”

“How did you bag this one, Lucy?” The brunette asked, making a blush creep up over both of Lucy and Rosie’s faces. 

“Renata…”

“Fine! I won’t ask anymore questions. A table for two, I presume? We have a nice one close to the back.”

“That sounds great.”

Rosie spent the next hour eating the best spaghetti he had ever eaten and staring at the woman he seemed to be quickly falling in love with. They seemed to never run out of topics of conversation, cycling through enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Rosie learnt a lot more about the British news field than he had ever thought was possible and in turn Lucy seemed enraptured whenever he talked about flying.

They stayed until it was almost closing time,when Renata basically pushed them out and gave them a complimentary bottle of wine, which had Lucy blushing in embarrassment and Rosie laughing. Somehow the night air was still warm, even though the sun had long set and the world had started to fall asleep.

“I’m glad I met you Rosie.” Lucy finally ventured, after they had been walking for a while in complete silence. Just letting the energy of the day seep in.

“Me too. I never in a million years would have thought I would meet someone like you.”

“You really do have a way with words, Major. Have you ever thought of becoming a poet?”

“I will leave all the writing to you, sweetheart.”

“This is it.” Lucy muttered once they had arrived back at the blue house at the end of the street.

“And that would be me.” Rosie said, pointing at the B&B next to the house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You can bet on it, Lucy.”

“Great.” Lucy whispered the first word as Rosie started to move closer and closer to her. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him, but he carefully placed both of his hands on her cheeks and stroked the soft skin.

“I’m really glad I met you too, Lucy.” Rosie muttered before surging forward and finally doing what he had been meaning to do for the past few hours. He kissed her with such intensity that it caught Lucy off guard. She stood still for a few moments before kissing him back with the same intensity and love that he was emphasizing in that kiss.

Lucy tangled her hands in his brown curls and felt the world just go still. For the first time in a long while. They stayed like that, kissing and holding each other until they heard the distant sounds of a baby crying.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rosie asked once they broke apart.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Lucy basically screeched in happiness once she had shut the door behind her. She finally understood what her mum was talking about when she talked about love at first sight. Rosie was her dream man, someone she didn’t even realize she had been looking for.

After carefully putting everything away and changing into her nightgown, Lucy settled into the comfort of her own bed and started to write lines upon lines about Rosie. She had filled up nearly two pages of her diary when her eyelids began to droop. It was almost midnight and she needed to be refreshed for tomorrow so she quickly signed off and pulled the covers over her body - allowing for sleep to pull her into its warm embrace.

The morning sun streamed through her window and softly woke Lucy up. Her relaxed joints groaned as she stretched and enjoyed the feeling of summer and sleep on her skin. Yesterday morning seemed like a distant memory. The darkness that usually invaded her waking hours felt almost less. Lucy had an excited thrill running through her body as she stretched.

Urging herself out of bed, Lucy slipped a robe over her nightgown and tied the sashes together loosely. The stairs creaked as her socked feet went down them and she was reminded of Rosie and his little comment about being careful. It was almost like this house was being reawakened with memories of the living, instead of being haunted by the ghosts of the past.

Once she arrived at the kitchen, Lucy started to go through her morning motions. Brewing a cup of Earl Gray tea, toasting some bread and starting to fry up some eggs. She was in the middle of beating the eggs together when a loud knock echoed through the house.

“There is no way that could be Rosie… could it?” Lucy wondered aloud, as she dried her hands on a tea towel and headed to answer the door. She turned the handle and pulled the door open to find that it was indeed Rosie. He was standing on the porch in civilian clothes again, his hair seemed a little less ordered than it was the day before and the morning sun was carefully lighting his face.

Lucy’s face broke out into a smile and Rosie returned it, before he carefully scanned her up and down and realized she was still in her nightgown. It was a long lacy and cotton thing that was only slightly covered by her robe. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to focus on her face.

“Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing…”

“Not all! Come, come. I’m just making breakfast.” Lucy stepped from out of the door frame, allowing for Rosie to walk into the house. She smiled and tried to contain her excitement as she focused on closing the door.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Lucy asked once she turned around and saw that Rosie was looking at her, he had a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before and it made a surge of electricity run up her spine.

“I had some things at the B&B.”

“Alright, can I interest you in a cup of tea then?” 

“Actually…” Rosie took a step closer to Lucy, making her raise her eyebrows in question. “I think I would like to do this first.”

Rosie pushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before gently pressing his lips to hers. Lucy’s eyelids fell shut and she threw her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be swept away by the sensation. Once they drew apart, Lucy scrunched her nose up and looked at the handsome man in front of her.

“Well aren’t you presumptuous? Coming all the way here in the early morning just to kiss me.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, I think it was warranted.” Rosie said with a shrug as he looked at Lucy adoringly, stroking his knuckles against the apple of her cheek.

“Flirt.”

“You love it.”

“I’m not gracing that with a response, now come. I don’t want my tea to get cold.” Lucy entwined her hand with his and started to pull Rosie in the direction of the kitchen, he was all too happy to follow her command.

Rosie watched from one of the wooden chairs as Lucy busied herself with making breakfast. She was as graceful as a dancer, she seemed to have the routine nailed down to a ‘T’.

“Here.” Lucy said, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Rosie. “Let me know what you think.”

Rosie gingerly rose the mug to his lips and blew on the milky liquid. It smelled incredible, he usually just drank the weak coffee at base but this smelt like something out of a bakery. Then he took a sip and instead of tasting something incredible, it almost tasted flat. In an effort to not disappoint the woman in front of him, Rosie forced a smile and fake hummed in delight.

“You hate it.” Lucy said with a laugh, which instantly had Rosie’s façade falling and he too was laughing.

“I’m an American, what can I say?”

“I’ll excuse it. Here I just finished mine so I can drink the rest. No need for it to go to waste.” Lucy placed her hands over his and Rosie felt the familiar spark in his body that was elicited by being able to touch her. His beautiful Lucy.

“I’m sorry.” Rosie said once Lucy started to take moderated sips of the beverage.

“Don’t apologize, I, for one, hate the taste of coffee so I think we can move on from this.” Rosie’s face turned scandalized for a moment but he quickly schooled his expression and nodded seriously, making Lucy snort and continue drinking her tea before turning to stir the eggs in the frying pan.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“Yes. Mrs. Sloane gave me plenty.” Rosie distinctly remembered the large feast the owner had prepared, it was almost too much to handle but she had been intent on doing it so he didn’t stop her.

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? She used to babysit me when I was younger. I was supposedly a very difficult child.” Lucy muttered as she plated her breakfast and sat across from Rosie at the breakfast table.

“I don’t believe that, you seem like an angel.”

“Oh no I was very much a devil child. The amount of times I was lost in the sand dunes is beyond count.” Rosie guffawed and watched Lucy as she scooped up pieces of scrambled eggs with her unbuttered toast.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did, you?” Lucy asked, after taking a few bites of her toast. Rosie nodded and stretched over the table to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, seeing as a light blush covered Lucy’s face.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Nope. I was going to write but I think there is something else I would much rather be doing.”

“And what would that be?” Rosie asked with a smirk starting to spread across his face, he liked getting to tease her. To see what he could say to get Lucy all flustered.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, Major. I want to spend it with you.” Lucy said quickly, relenting under Rosie’s teasing glare.

“Good, because I have no plans.”

“Great.” Lucy nodded resolutely and then stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Rosie watched her as the fabric of her robe swayed around her. He stood up from his seat and walked up behind her, carefully placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.

“Hello there?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Do I?”

“Hmmm.”

“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”

“Just stay with me for a moment, then you can wash the dishes.” Lucy turned around so Rosie was staring into those deep brown eyes he loved.

“What are we doing, Rosie?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with us. I’m assuming you will have to leave soon and I have to get back to London. I want this to be good but I can’t- I don’t deal well with loss, Rosie.” Lucy muttered, making Rosie’s heart almost break in half. He stood slightly speechless for a few moments as Lucy took to rearranging his hair. Rosie hadn’t even realized that this would all end soon. He didn’t realize he would have to leave her so soon.

“We’ll write and I promise I will do everything in my power to keep coming back. I want whatever this is, Lucy. Darling, I haven’t felt like this ever. I don’t want to lose you, even if I have just met you.”

“So we do this. We promise we will come back to each other.”

“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”

“Rosie, I- alright. Let’s do this. I’m in.”

“Good, because I was all in the moment I saw that beautiful face from across the lawn.” Lucy giggled and suddenly rested her head against his chest. Rosie was sure she could feel the thudding of his heart, so he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy’s arms circled his middle and they stayed like that for a few long moments.

“What do you want to do today?” Rosie heard Lucy mutter against the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath making shivers run up his spine.

“Whatever you would like.”

“Does a picnic sound nice?”

“That sounds lovely.” Lucy started to unwind her arms and Rosie already started to miss the weight of her against him.

“I would need to get changed.” Rosie watched Lucy motioned at her clothes and smiled at the devastated expression on his face.

“Do you really?”

“Yes, you menace!” Rosie laughed at the scandalized expression on Lucy’s face.

“Fine, fine. I’ll start on the dishes.”

“Rosie… you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Now shoo, before I don’t let you get dressed.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Rosie said, ducking his head so he was looking at Lucy through his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes and pulled herself away from his arms, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Rosie smiled as he watched her walk away from him, he knew he was beyond smitten.

Lucy was desperately searching for something to wear when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filtered in from downstairs. Rosie had put on music, and she could distantly hear him humming to himself over the rush of water.

Staring at the closer, Lucy realized that all her clothes suddenly seemed too ugly to work, she wanted to dress up enough that she looked nice but also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Why is this so complicated?

Huffing, Lucy finally pulled out a dark pink dress she hadn’t worn since before the war. It was made of cotton and she knew it looked good on her… five years ago. There was no fault in trying it on so Lucy quickly changed out of her nightgown and buttoned up the cotton dress up. Fluffing up her curls, Lucy carefully folded the strewn clothes and arranged the closet.

She knew she was probably just trying to procrastinate going downstairs when Lucy started to smooth out the fabric of her dress for the fifth time.

“Deep breaths. It will be fine.” Lucy firmly nodded in resolution before opening the door of her bedroom and walking out.

Rosie was finishing drying the dishes when Lucy walked in, she watched as he stared out of the kitchen window absentmindedly humming to the music and drying one of the mugs.

“How do sandwiches sound?” Lucy finally asked as she pulled the old fridge door open, trying to find if she had enough things to make a suitable lunch.

“That sounds great. You don’t mind that I used the record player?”

“Darling, you are free to use that whenever you please.” Lucy reassured him as she emerged from the fridge holding a parcel of cheese and various pieces of produce. Her heart seemed to stop when she saw how he was looking at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No really, why are you staring at me like that?”

“You look like a vision.” Lucy ducked her head to stop Rosie from seeing her cheeks flaming bright red.

“Thank you.” Lucy placed the food on the cutting board and started to cut up the cheese into slices to go on the bread.

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I’m British, what do you expect?” Lucy said as she looked at Rosie over her shoulder, repeating the same words he had said to her. He had finished drying the dishes a while ago and now he was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. The morning sun hit his face just right and Lucy was wondering how he had become a pilot when he clearly could have been put into major motion pictures. 

Lucy turned back to the task at hand with a smile on her face, the song on the record player suddenly changed and Lucy started to hum in tune with the music.

She quickly finished making the sandwiches and ordered Rosie to try and find the basket that she had stowed away in the hall closet. When he returned, Rosie was also carrying the picnic blanket from the day before.

“Thought we might need this.”

“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.

“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You need to stop that.”

“What? Saying the truth?”

“Rosie…”

“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.

Once everything was packed and ready, Rosie found himself carrying the picnic basket in one hand and holding Lucy’s hand in the other. She truly looked like some kind of angel sent from heaven. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked and excitedly explained random bits of history or childhood stories about different areas of the town.

Supposedly they were on the way to one of the little alcoves that was the perfect picnic spot according to Lucy, but Rosie just felt happy to be around her. He still didn’t truly understand how exactly he had found Lucy. He could clearly imagine what would have happened if he never took leave, he would be going up again and would have never known about the blonde spitfire who hated compliments and lived in a blue house by the beach.

God, he can almost picture Crosby’s face when he tells him that he found a girl while on leave. That is going to be something that he would never want to miss.

“So tell me about you now, I think I’ve rambled on long enough.” Lucy said, as she beamed at Rosie, bumping her shoulder against his.

“You know almost everything about me, darling.”

“There has to be something. A dirty secret, perhaps?”

“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”

“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any dirty secrets.”

“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”

“Now that’s unfair.”

“It is not!”

They continued on like that for a while longer, until both Rosie and Lucy had started to feel tiny pangs of hunger in their stomachs. The sun was shining brightly as they continued to walk on the beach, Lucy still intent on finding the cove she used to go to.

“Aha! There it is. I told you, my parents used to take me here when I was a kid.”

Lucy unlaced her hand from Rosie’s and he watched her as she ran across the sand, twirling and laughing like she had just won the lottery. A feeling of complete happiness and joy spread through Rosie’s limbs and he carefully placed the picnic basket on the sand, running after Lucy. Once he reached her he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. Their laughter quickly filled the cove with joy it hadn’t witnessed in a while.

They had calmed down after a while and Rosie quickly helped Lucy set up the picnic. The ginger beer somehow still cool to the touch after being carried under the sun for a while. 

Once everything was ready, Rosie basically inhaled his sandwich, whether that was because of Lucy’s culinary skills or the hunger that had built up in him during the walk he did not know, but Rosie felt calm for the first time in a while.

He was now watching the push and pull of the waves against the sandy beach and stroking a hand through Lucy’s soft curls. With her head resting on his lap she seemed to almost be dozing off, a small content smile adorning her face.

“You know, I’m glad my editor made me take a break.” Lucy’s soft voice carefully broke the comfortable silence, Rosie hummed in appreciation - urging her to go on. “I haven’t stopped working ever since… my parents.”

“It’s almost like you settled into a routine, you thought you were handling it well and then suddenly…” Rosie trailed off as he thought back to his time at the Flak House, he had gotten better at handling missions after that, he felt more human but he knew exactly how hard it felt to just stop sometimes. Because when you stop, you start to feel everything.

“It gets too much…”

“Exactly. I had- have, the same problem.”

“Birds of a feather.”

“Yes.” Rosie murmured, his mind far away in the clouds. He felt so connected to Lucy for some reason. Maybe this is why. They were two sides of the same coin.

“Read to me, Rosie.” Lucy said after a few moments of silence. Rosie looked down to find that Lucy’s brown eyes were fixed on his face.

“You want the silly American to read to you?”

“Rosie… everything about you is beautiful, now, read to me. The silly Brit commands you.”

“Commanding me now, are we?” Rosie teasingly asked, largely ignoring the first part of Lucy’s comment which made him feel like he was floating.

“Rosie.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rosie picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby that Lucy had packed and flicked to a random page, starting to read the tale of some rich fictional idiots who had no care in the world except for the sorrows of love.

Pastels painted the sky as the sun started to set. Lucy was still lying in the same position she had been for the past few hours. Rosie had abandoned reading after a while and they spent that time talking and sitting in comfortable silence.

It was easy just being around Rosie, Lucy felt completely safe in his presence. He had this reassuring air around him which made her sure he was a wonderful Major.

“Sometimes I wish I could paint. I can write about this moment all I want but to create a piece of it would be a completely different experience.”

“Why don’t you start it?”

“What? Painting? No never, you have a better chance of turning me into a singer.” Lucy answered, making the pair laugh.

“Do you think we should head back?”

“Let us stay for a while more, Rosie. It’s too perfect. I want something to remember when we leave.”

“We’ll come back here, Lucy. I swear it.” Lucy smiled up sadly at Rosie, examining the way he looked down at her. She thought he looked earnest enough, but who knew with this war? Who knew if he would ever come back to her?

“I hope we will, Rosie.”

Lucy noticed how much quieter the walk back to her house was, Rosie had slung his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into him and protecting Lucy from the biting night wind that had started to pick up. It was almost as if the realization of leaving was starting to weigh on them. Rosie would be leaving late the next afternoon and Lucy on Monday. Both headed back to their lives and away from the slice of heaven they had been able to cultivate.

“Do you want to come in?” Lucy asked once they arrived at her house. She had already started to move to grab the picnic basket, making up her mind that Rosie wanted to at least spend a meal by himself.

“I would love to.” Lucy smiled and moved back to her original position under Rosie’s arm. “But only if you don’t mind me cooking?”

“You cook?!” Lucy must have realized she looked beyond surprised because she schooled her face a few moments later.

“I do. I haven’t had the chance recently, but my mother taught me well.”

Lucy smiled and quickly pecked Rosie on the cheek before bounding over to the door to unlock it.

“Come on, Rosie. I’m desperate to see what you’ll make.”

Rosie just laughed and picked up his pace until he followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. He placed the picnic basket on the floor and then headed towards the direction of the kitchen.

He passed Lucy, who was quickly flicking through the record collection, intent on finding something to put on while he cooked. Rosie already knew what he was going to make, he just hoped Lucy had the right ingredients for it.

Rosie quickly spent the next hour prepping and cooking his mom’s famous tomato soup. Lucy poured them each large cups of wine and watched him as he cooked. Rosie felt slightly embarrassed by her calculating stare, feeling her eyes on him the entire time he was slicing or stirring, but after a while he realized she was staring at him in admiration. Watching as he fluidly moved through her kitchen and prepared a dinner just for the two of them.

When Rosie was finally ready to plate the food, Lucy offered him two china bowls her mother must have saved for special occasions and Rosie distinctly felt his heart swell. He was rather nervous after they finished serving everything and sat down next to each other at the large dinner table that was usually left unused.

Rosie watched Lucy as dipped her spoon into the tomato soup, raised it to her lips and took a delicate sip. He watched as her face contorted in awe and she quickly took a larger sip.

“Rosie. How? This needs to be in a restaurant. This is incredible!”

“It can’t be that good.”

“Oh it is. You must tell me your secrets.” Rosie laughed, relieved that he was able to please her. He took a sip of his own soup and relished in the familiar taste of home.

After dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Rosie found himself nestled next to Lucy on the couch. She had gotten changed once they had finished drying the dishes and was now wearing the long lacy nightgown he had seen that morning. It seemed that it was tailored to be his own personal torture device.

“Lucy, you really need to stop me, because I really want to kiss you right now.” Rosie finally said, it seemed like the two glasses of wine had given him enough confidence that his brain was no longer filtering his mouth. Lucy turned her head to look at him directly and he watched as a smile blossomed on her face.

“Oh I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

This kiss felt different from the others. It was as if it was imbued with a special kind of love that came from knowing the other person on a much deeper level. Rosie’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s silky blonde curls and he could feel as his own curls were being ruffled from where Lucy’s hands had started to tug on them.

When they finally broke apart, both Rosie and Lucy were panting hard. Rosie knew he was looking at Lucy with more admiration than he thought was possible and she was looking at him with the same depth of love in her eyes.

“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”

“And you are quite a woman, Lucy Everett.” Lucy laughed and she tucked herself close to him once again. Rosie relished in the warmth that her body emanated, how he wished he could stay like this forever.

Little by little, the sound of Bing Crosby started to fade and Rosie felt himself drop into a slow slumber. Lucy’s eyes also began to close and the two lovers drifted off into the sweet escape of sleep.

Only once did one of them wake, Rosie woke up panting after having what seemed like a nightmare. The moon illuminated the living room and he could still hear the distant sounds of a woman screaming. He shook himself out of it and instead focused on the blonde in his arms. He carefully readjusted her and placed a kiss on her cheek before falling back asleep.

Lucy felt a warm solid body pressed against her own. She blearily blinked her eyes open and watched as her living room blossomed around her. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.

“You’re finally awake.” Rosie’s voice made Lucy smile contently and she looked up to see Rosie’s intent stare on her face.

“Hmmm, good morning.”

“It is indeed.”

“You stayed.”

“I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, Lucy.” Rosie said with a sad smile, Lucy watched as his eyes dimmed slightly and she quickly nestled closer into him. Sitting up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, and then his cheek and finally his lips.

“What was that for?”

“I thought you needed it.” Lucy said with a shrug before she was too attacked with kisses. Rosie’s mustache tickled her skin as he placed a flurry of kisses all over her face. She shrieked in delight, making Rosie chuckle against her. “Rosie! Stop! I have to go make breakfast.”

“Nope.” Rosie stopped kissing her for a moment just to respond to her comment and Lucy let out a sigh of relief, which was instantly cut short as he started his assault once again.

“Rosie…”

“Okay, okay fine. Come on. I’ll help you make breakfast.” Rosie said, finally relenting. He stretched out his arms and let out a groan as Lucy also yawned and started to stand up from her place on the couch.

“What are you feeling like?”

“Anything you want, darling. Just none of that tea please.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, which had Rosie smiling sheepishly at her.

“Fine, come on.”

Lucy quickly busied herself as she picked out the meager ingredients she had to make eggless pancakes, since she had used up the last of the eggs yesterday. Lucy could feel Rosie’s eyes on her when she started to do her little tea ritual.

“Can you put on some music, honey?” Lucy asked once she had finished pouring herself a cup.

“Of course.”

After the click of the record sounded, Lucy distinctly felt the weight of Rosie behind her as he pulled her towards him and hugged her from behind. Lucy was carefully measuring out the ingredients but she let her head lean against his shoulder.

“Hmmm. I’m going to miss you.” Lucy whispered, Rosie hummed against her head and Lucy felt herself start to sway against him. She felt a slow tear run down the length of her cheek and she allowed herself to just feel for a few moments.

“I may be leaving but I’ll always be in your heart, and you will always be in mine.”

“You’re already making me cry, Rosie, stop saying things like that.” Lucy said with a strained laugh. Looking back at him, Lucy felt her heart both swell and break simultaneously.

“Lucy… I-”

“I love you.” Lucy muttered, interrupting Rosie mid sentence. She watched him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“You- you? You love me?”

“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

“I love you too. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you sitting outside on your porch swing reading the same book I was. Lucy, darling, I-”

Lucy cut Rosie off again but this time with a kiss. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her. She put everything she had into that kiss and she felt as Rosie responded in turn. His lips cautiously moved against hers and she felt a tingle run over her body by how carefully he cradled her face against his.

“Rosie. I really need to get to those pancakes.” Lucy finally said after a few long minutes of kissing. She muttered her words against his lips, feeling as Rosie chuckled and pulled away from here.

“Nothing is stopping you, milady.” Lucy huffed but turned back around. Savoring the feeling of the man that she loved cradling her as she fixed breakfast and took sips of her tea.

Rosie’s tastebuds ignited when he placed a slice of pancake in his mouth. The day was already starting to shape out to be a good one. He still felt like he was floating after Lucy’s admission only half an hour ago, now he just watched her in awe from across the kitchen table. She was also taking careful bites of her pancakes and stealing glances at him.

They had almost become more bashful than they had ever been, whenever they met eyes either Rosie or Lucy would immediately break eye contact. There was a comfortable tension between them that neither person felt necessary to break.

Once they had both finished their respective breakfasts, Rosie leant over and entwined their hands together. He watched as Lucy smiled adoringly at him and leaned over to peck his lips.

“Rosie… I- do you want to finish The Great Gatsby?” Lucy asked against his lips, staring at him intently. Rosie nodded and they both rose from their seats and walked over to the living room. Leaving the dishes for another time.

The morning was spent in a quiet comfort. Rosie’s voice echoed through the rooms of the house, although he frequently stopped his reading to press languid kisses to Lucy’s lips, or to caress the exposed skin of her arm. At the pace that he ended up going, he finished the book at about midday. When Rosie leaned over to place the book on the coffee table, he felt Lucy stir from his side and start to stretch out.

“I need to get changed, Rosie.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm. I wanted to walk with you to the station and I can’t do that wearing a nightgown.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

“I know you wouldn’t be, but do you truly want everyone else staring at me.” Rosie blinked up at Lucy from his position on the couch when realization dawned on him. “I thought so. Now busy yourself with something while I get changed.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rosie said with a sarcastic nod which had Lucy shaking her head at him before disappearing out of the door. 

Rosie took to scanning the living room he had basically lived in for the past few days. He wanted to commit it all to memory before he had to leave. At that thought, Rosie dragged a hand over his face - he was leaving in less than two hours and he was leaving her. How he wished he could take her with him and show her the planes that so fascinated her. Most of all he wanted this damned war to end so he could be in her arms for the rest of his life.

His fingers caressed the worn fabric of the couch he was sitting on, he felt more at home here than he had in a while. Rosie didn’t want to leave. He knew his duty and nothing would stop him from that, but how he wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he had met Lucy at a jazz bar, or at a bookstore, when war wasn’t a constant in both of their lives.

He wished the world was different, but unfortunately it wasn’t. All Rosie could do was keep coming back from missions, and now he had another reason to.

“Very well, how do I look?” Lucy’s voice almost made him jump, he had been so lost in his thoughts that Rosie hadn’t heard the creaking of the age old floorboards. He took a few moments to take in his beautiful Lucy. She was wearing a long light yellow dress with black flowers embroidered on the collar.

“You look radiant as always, my dear.” Rosie said, almost breathlessly as he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling of her warm body against his.

“Hmm. Not that this isn’t wonderful, but we need to make lunch. And I wanted to make some sandwiches for your trip back.”

“You really don’t need to do that.” Rosie said as he pulled away from Lucy to look at her in surprise.

“I want to, now come.”

After a quick lunch, Lucy had disappeared into her study to write him a little note - leaving Rosie to do the dishes. She sat down at her desk and stretched her fingers before starting to type.

Dear Rosie,

I know you won’t read this until you get back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I just wanted to say that I love you and I promise to write to you nearly every day and try to call you when I can because I’m not sure I will be able to survive without hearing or reading your words for a day.

You have turned my world into something I never expected. I never expected you, my darling. I wish we could spend more days like this weekend. I will never forget them, I will never forget you. I will always cherish these memories, until we are able to make new ones just like them.

I love you, my dear. Remember that when you’re flying your plane and have your head in the clouds.

All my love,

Lucy

With a final ding of the typewriter, Lucy pulled the paper out and blew a little on the ink before folding it into a neat rectangle. She grabbed Rosie’s copy of The Great Gatsby that had been hanging around the house for the past few days. Opening up the book she slipped the note in between the pages and then picked up her pencil to scribble her name on the inside cover page.

“Now what might you be up to?” Lucy swivelled around to find Rosie leaning on the doorframe. His arms were crossed and he seemed to have been standing there for quite a while.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t just slip something into my book.”

“Shhh, it’s supposed to be a secret. Be a dear and don’t open it until you get back.” Lucy said as she rose from her seat and placed the book into Rosie’s hands, an easy smile on her face.

“The suspense might kill me but I promise. When do you have to head back to London?”

“Tomorrow. I’m hoping for a new assignment.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

“You better buy a copy of the paper once it’s published.”

“Don’t worry, I will be on the lookout for it.” Rosie’s arms now encircled her waist, and Lucy was sure she was staring at him like a lovesick idiot.

“We better get going if we want to catch your train. You still need to pick up your luggage.”

“I know, but this is much more preferable.”

“Rosie… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Alright, alright.” Rosie’s hands rose in a defeated posture, making Lucy choke out a laugh.

“Come on.” 

Lucy followed after Rosie as she went to grab the necessary things for leaving the house. She slipped on her shoes and tied the laces while watching Rosie take in the last details of the hallway before he left. He looked contemplative and Lucy wondered what exactly he was thinking about.

Rosie’s curls were all messed up from a night on the couch and from Lucy’s constant tugging and rearranging of them. Lucy thought he looked ethereal standing there in wrinkled clothes and messy hair. For the billionth time she wished she was a painter so she could capture him just like that.

“Ready?” She finally asked. Lucy’s question made Rosie’s eyes travel to her and he gave her a nod before going to open the door.

It felt final to Lucy, she knew she would see him again but there was always a chance, a high chance, that he wouldn’t come back to her. Even if he had promised he would.

She waited outside of the B&B for Rosie to collect his luggage, she had taken to kicking a pebble on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks in the pavement. Watching as the little weeds crept through the cement.

“Lucy… I have everything.” Rosie’s tentative voice broke her out of her thought spiral, making Lucy look over to him to find that he had changed into his uniform and had tamed his curls. He looked handsome, somehow even more handsome than he had while he wore civies. His hat was under his left arm and he held his luggage in the other.

“Well don’t you look handsome?” Rosie rewarded Lucy with a bashful smile and a blush. “Aww, don’t go getting all shy on me now.” Lucy teased as she came up to him and carefully took the hat from under his arm and placed it slightly lopsided on his head. She wrapped her hand around his now free arm and leaned against his shoulder.

The walk to the train station was filled with easy chatter, Lucy was trying to avoid facing the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) and that she would have to return to a house that would now be void of Rosie. The small platform greeted the pair all too quickly, the station clock showing that it would only be a few minutes before the train that would take Rosie far, far away from her would arrive.

“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t- Lucy, I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Oh, Rosie, you can’t promise me that.” She smiled tightly at him, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Feeling as he quickly reciprocated the hug. Hot, burning tears started to race down her face.

“I know, I know I can’t, but I promise that I’ll keep trying to come back. To come back to you.”

“I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.” Lucy whispered against his chest, as she let out a choked sob. She felt droplets of water hit her head and she realized that Rosie was crying too.

“And I’m going to miss you, my dear Lucy. I love you too, so much.” Rosie said as he leaned closer to Lucy.

“Promise me you’ll write.”

“Every day. Here, this is my address at the base and the phone number.” Rosie quickly pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his bag and scribbled a note on there, adding a heart for good measure.

The distant sound of the train whistle had Lucy’s heart clenching. She quickly swept away her tears and took the paper from Rosie’s hands. She pulled him in for one last kiss. Feeling as the top of his hat bumped against her forehead and how his lips pressed against hers.

The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.

“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.

“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.

Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.

He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.

Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him. 

“Crosby, I’m fine.”

“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”

“I met someone.”

“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.

“A girl.”

“You met a girl?!”

“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”

“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”

“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”

“It isn’t like that, Cros.”

“Sure. But did you?”

“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”

“There! You see, she loves you too right?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”

“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”

“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lucy Everett.”

part 2 part 3 part 4

so... thoughts? queries?

also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits

there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!

taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33

#rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #mota #mota spoilers #mota fanfic #mota oc #masters of the air oc #masters of the air x oc #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie x oc #robert rosenthal x oc #my ocs <3 #harry crosby #nate mann #maria writes

[ericsprincess]

down for your love

You take your car to a car shop for a repair. Your mechanic fucks it up even more. 

~~~

“Hello,” you open the shop door and walk in. There is just an older guy sitting behind a desk. He looks up at you, with a questioning gaze. 

“My name is Y/L/N, I got a phone call today about my car? Something about some unexpected issue? I think it might have been you on the phone, we made an agreement that I would come later today to assess,” you introduce yourself and see his face light up as he remembers. 

“Ah, yes, miss Y/L/N, yes I remember now. I am Mr. Kim, and I am the owner of this shop. I deeply apologize to you, but there has been an unexpected issue with your car,” he shakes your hand and even bows a little. He looks really apologetic, so you already start bracing yourself for whatever unexpected trouble is awaiting you today. 

“What happened? I think it was just some routine fix? Did you find something wrong with the car?” you worry. 

“Uh, no, you see, uh, it’s just that our mechanic that was working on your car, you know, he’s just an apprentice, and..uhhh…he accidentally broke the replacement part, I am really sorry for that,” the old guy babbles and his face is red. You fight the urge to close your eyes and pinch your nose. Great. 

“B-But, don’t worry,” continues the old guy. “We’re gonna order a new part and you won’t be charged for it. It will just take some time again to arrive and I also needed you to come here to sign the additional order paper,” he concludes and you just sigh. Awesome, another at least a week without a car, just Uber with its sleazy drivers.

“Ah, okay, where do I sign?” you ask, and he hands you the papers. 

“Here, miss. Also, Eric will show you the car, just a second- ” the old man says and turns towards the back to yell “ERIC!!!! Come here and show miss Y/L/N your fuckup!!!” he turns back to you with an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry. He’s a good boy and actually good with cars, just sometimes he gets a bit airheaded and spaces out. I guess he thinks about girls too much, or something,” grumbles the old man, when a man appears in the door leading to the back of the shop. He’s very young, early twenties at most - an adult, but still with a lot of boyishness around him. He’s wearing his black uniform overalls with the top part off and tied around his waist, and just a white muscle shirt tucked in, all smudged in oil stains. Actually, he’s dirty everywhere, even on his face and nice, muscular arms. He’s not very tall, but seems nicely fit and his face is cute too, even despite being currently crumpled in anxiety. 

“Uh, hello? Miss Y/L/N?” he asks awkwardly. You open your mouth to reply, but the old guy cuts in. 

“Eric! Take miss Y/L/N to the back and show her everything. Also,” he turns to you. “Eric can also drive you home in one of our cars, as an apology from us for causing you trouble today, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Yes, sure, thank you” you reply. That’s actually nice of them, you came straight from your office and your feet already hurt a lot from your heels. The pencil skirt you’re wearing is also not very comfortable. So you just say goodbye to the owner and go after Eric to the back of the shop, where your car is parked in a big garage amongst all of the tools and spare tires. 

Eric leads you to your car, opens the hood of it and leans forward. “Soo..uhh see this part right here?” he points to something. You have barely any idea about the car internals beyond what you learnt in driving school, but you still lean forwards next to him. 

“Uh, which one again?” you asked, confused. 

“Right here, see?” Eric points out and looks back at you, checking if you got it now. Except - his eyes slide right down your face and end up on your cleavage. And today, his eyes can feast - the weather is getting too hot, so you’re wearing the thinnest blouse you could find that is office-appropriate, and while leaving work you unbuttoned the first few buttons, leaving your cleavage and a bit of a bra exposed.  

It takes you a second to notice him looking and another second for him to collect his sight and look back at your face. He’s blushing. Awww, you think, you find it a little adorable that he was not able to help himself and stares, but still is innocent enough to feel embarrassed about it. 

“Ah, I think I see it now,” you reply with a smile and he turns back towards the engine and continues, a bit nervously. 

“Yeah, so, this is the part I had to replace, and..uh, when I was tightening the bolts, I, I guess I was distracted, and I tightened it too strongly and part of it snapped, so..uh, I really apologize for that,” he stutters. You feel a little bad.

“That’s okay, I guess,’” you smile kindly and straighten up. “At least you’ll know for the next time to keep your focus and not get distracted.” 

He nods and you can really see his inner fight to not stare at your tits again and also the moment he loses. You can feel your nipples getting hard under the weight of his look, and you know that he must see it too, they are probably showing through your thin bra and blouse. 

You can’t help it but you feel really flattered by the effect you seem to have on him. Especially since he’s so young. It’s not that you’re old, the age difference is just a few years, but you have never gone for younger guys before. Now you can see the appeal. 

“Are you getting distracted again?” you tease him and he gets immediately red. “Your boss said something about driving me home, would you be okay to do that?” you snort and he hurries to assure you. 

“Yes, miss, no worries! Let’s go, I’ll show you the car,” he takes you to the outside parking lot and leads you to a quite nice car. Even awkwardly hurries to open the passenger’s door for you. How cute.

He jumps to the driver’s seat, buckles up and turns the engine on while you’re telling him your address. He nods, apparently he knows where that is and off you go. 

The drive is somewhat silent and awkward. You notice that he’s a good driver, he has the style of someone who grew up around cars and was never afraid of driving. But in spite of that, he’s clutching the steering wheel tightly and keeps peeking at you, as if your presence made him nervous. 

And once he notices you’re actually unashamedly looking at him, he gets nervous even more. 

You stretch and let out a sigh, on purpose and his breath hitches. His ears are red now and you decide that it was enough of a tease. 

You put your hand on his thigh. He jerks and almost swerves the car off the road. 

“Stop the car somewhere on the side before you make us crash, would you?” you lean to whisper to his ear and he just nods and does exactly that. 

He picks a nice, semi-hidden spot next to some trees, so you take the opportunity, quickly unbuckle your seatbelt, hop over the console and sit straight on his lap. 

“One question. Do you want this?” you ask him.

“Yes,” he doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, please,” he breathes out, looking at you as if he’s scared that if he even as much as blinks, you will change your mind. 

You don’t waste time and you unzip his overall pants and pull out his cock. He’s already hard and leaking, the tip almost purple. You raise your eyebrow. “You’re already so hard?”

He laughs, embarrassed. “I’ve been hard since I’ve seen you in the office,” he admits. 

You raise yourself up a little on his lap to move your panties to the side, your pencil skirt is already bunched up around your hips. You’re also already wet, so you just slide his cock into you and sit back down comfortably. He’s a decent size and thick enough so you can feel him in you nicely and you slowly start to ride him, your holding his shoulders. 

He looks like he’s summoning all of his strength to not cum on the spot and keeps staring at your tits that are right in front of his face. 

“You can touch, you know,” you breathe out, and he hesitates “I’ll get you dirty.” 

“I don’t care,” you reply and unbutton your blouse. He takes your tits into his hands and squeezes and kneads them while you keep riding him and sighing from pleasure. 

He pulls your bra down to make your tits pop out and squeezes them like that, leaving oil prints all over. 

“Suck on them,” you order him and he doesn’t waste a second to latch on one, you lean a bit forward and almost suffocate him while he’s sucking on your nipples in a complete bliss. He puts his hands on your ass, guiding our movements and tempo. 

You’re riding him quicker now and you can hear the squelching noises from how wet you are, together with the sound of Eric sucking on your tits. You’re close and you speed up and he whines and moans. 

He’s close too and your tempo is almost frantic when you finally cum and in a few seconds you can feel him pulsating in you. You fall forward, tightly hugging him while you’re both spasming in your orgasms. He whines, sweaty face nuzzling to your neck as he’s cumming inside of you. 

When it’s finally over, you take a moment to relax and take a few deep breaths, and then you’re slumping back to the passenger’s seat, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

Eric is just sitting with a blank stare, like his world was completely flipped, so you laugh and wave your hand in front of his eyes, until he snaps out of it. 

“Let’s go?” you smile. 

He hurriedly tucks his cock back into his pants, not caring about all the mess on his crotch from his cum and your juices and starts the engine. 

The rest of the way to your house doesn’t take long, and suddenly he’s pulling up to your driveway. 

You turn to him. He’s still completely messed up, messy hair, oil stains everywhere, now with added cum and other sex-related mess. He’s still dazed. So cute. 

“Do you wanna come up for a shower?” you ask mischievously. 

He looks at you, blushes and smiles. He turns off the engine. 

#eric smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #ficscafe #eric fic #eric #kpop smut #kpop fic #eric imagines #eric x reader #eric scenarios #youngjae smut #sohn youngjae smut #youngjae fic #sohn youngjae fic #youngjae #sohn youngjae #youngjae imagines #sohn youngjae imagines #youngjae x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #youngjae scenarios #sohn youngjae scenarios #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz #tbz

[mondaymelon]

⸝⸝⸝ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞… | albedo x gn!reader

prompt ˎˊ˗ | albedo helps you... study.

warnings/notes! ˎˊ˗ | fluff, highschool au, albedo is your tutor ♥

(a/n) ˎˊ˗ | another request by @eaeaeasaggresively (please oh lord why must you love albedo so)

"4 failed classes... two classes with a barely passing grade of just one point... 20 missed assignments and a multitude of failed tests..." Albedo's expression remained the same. "...I can see why you might need my help."

"Yeah..." Laughing awkwardly at the platinum blonde male, you slid into the seat across from him, sighing. "About that..."

"There's no need to be so nervous." Albedo mirrored your gesture before rummaging through his schoolbag. After a brief moment, the male fished out several study papers and textbooks and stacked them up on the table between you two. "After all, I'm here to help."

"Mhm." You pulled out the mechanical pencil you had brought, mind already starting to drift elsewhere before another action caught your eye. Albedo, moving his chair next to yours, so close that the two of you almost bumped shoulders.

"Okay, what exactly do you need help with?" If he noticed your sudden flustered state, he didn't seem to pay any heed.

"Ah- y-you're letting me choose? Uhm... how about science then? I mean- if you're okay with it...!" As discretely as possible, you had a silent mental breakdown, not sure whether to move closer to Albedo or scoot further away. From your dazed state, you could make out Albedo's pristine features as he smiled.

"I'm okay with that. Science is my passion. You shouldn't have any problems with me around." He gave you a small smile, an uncommon sight for you to behold. Nevertheless, you cherished it with a red face and frantic demeanor.

"Let's start with the basics then. So for factoring chemical equations you'll have to..." His serene voice faded into the background, a welcome addition to the white noise buzzing inside your head as you focused on his focused expression. His features were relaxed, and his teal eyes sparkled from the sunlight streaming into the classroom. Albedo's blonde hair was brushed elegantly into his usual style, as he wrote some notes onto a sheet of paper - notes that, as of the moment, weren't exactly your highest priority.

"...And that's about it. Does it make sense? What should I teach you next?"

"Kiss."

"...Sorry?"

"Teach me how to kiss."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Your mind had already wandered far from the original topic, which didn't help you stayed focused. Yet, the utterly shocked look on the male's face was almost worth it.

"Is... Is that what you want?"

Was he... blushing? You must be mistaken. Albedo, dubbed as the prince of the school, was a polite but cold person, and the fact that he had smiled in front of you was already enough. Yet... there was no doubt, the light dust of red across his expression... you felt your heart skip a beat just at the sight of it.

"And if I say yes?"

"Then this is my answer."

With ease, the man leaned forward, closing the short gap between the two of you and sending warmth shooting across your body. You could feel his lips against yours, a sensation that just about seemed to overload all your nerves. Heart pounding as the world faded away, you peeked open your eyes just the tiniest bit - you had kept them closed out of pure shock and flusteredness - and saw a sight you wouldn't regret.

As the sun peeked over the clouds in the sky outside, glowing beams streaming through the windows into the empty classroom, Albedo's hair sparkled like golden thread. The gentle, almost wobbly smile that had spread across his face wasn't enough to distract you from his slightly flushed cheeks and ears. His eyes opened as he pulled away, lashes fluttering as he revealed his beautiful, azure blue eyes which you had come to adore.

You had to catch your breath before you spoke, the rush in your ears and racing of your heart roaring loudly. Thankfully, Albedo took your place, widening his smile gracefully as he kissed you one more time, taking your hand in his before meeting it to his lips.

"Full marks."

#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon #albedo genshin impact #albedo x y/n #albedo genshin x reader #albedo x reader #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #gi albedo #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin fluff #albedo fluff #genshin imagines #genshin high school au #highschool au #character x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #albedo x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin albedo #albedo gi #albedo genshin #genshin fanfiction

[dilf-whore]

Hi!

Can I please request an Eddie x femreader where she’s like, not popular but not a nerd either? And she wants to learn to pleat D&D cause she’s always been attracted to Eddie but is a bit shy, so she braves up and asks him to teach her how to play and to create a character, and they end up dating? Super fluffy?

Thank you ❤️

kiss the girl

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers! ,fluff

summary: Reader asks her crush to teach her how to play d&d

A/N: LETS PRETEND THAT VOL 2 DIDN’T HAPPEN anddd this my first stranger things request! thank you so much by the way. i don’t know much about d&d so forgive me if i didn’t get to dive into it much here and if i made mistakes on the mechanics of the game. let me me know your thoughts /comments if you have. 

requested: yes

requests are OPEN

masterlist

𖤐

You pack your things as the school bell rang, going out of the classroom, the hallway started to feel warm as students and teachers move around and head to wherever they plan to.  It doesn’t bother you though, excitement’s flowing through your body - you make your way out to meet your friends and of course, Eddie.

You arrive at the venue, panting a little. You wrap your right hand around the cold metal door knob, and open the door - you see the boys about to start the campaign. You rush over to your seat between Dustin and Eddie, “Hi guys sorry I’m late, I brought you all some snacks”. You open your bag and grab chips, biscuits and some nougat (as per Dustin’s request)

You pass them the food, “Don’t want you guys gettin’ hungry” 

“Thanks Y/N” You look at your right and see Eddie smiling at you. He takes a bag of chips off your hand, his rough fingers brushing over yours - making your heart skip a beat.

You don’t play D&D, you weren't really able to dive into it since you didn't really have anyone to play with before.

So how on Earth did you end up in Hellfire Club if you can’t play? 

You were sitting on a picnic table at Lover’s Lake listening to some Metallica on your Walkman. You move your head to the beat as you draw your surroundings on your notebook. Lover’s Lake is your go-to spot after school hours, you didn't really have close friends to hang out with, just some acquaintances. 

You add the final touches to your work when you felt a tap on your shoulder startling you. As a response, you gripped your pencil and turned around - pointing the sharp end on the man’s neck behind you.

“Oh my god, I didn't mean to scare you! I-I just heard you listening to Metallica - one of my favorite bands by the way. So, I came to you and wanted to say hi” He said.

You put down your pencil, loosening your grip “Sorry about that, you scared the shit out of me. How did you know it was Metallica I was listening to?”

“Well I could hear it because of the very loud unhealthy volume of your headphones. I’m Eddie by the way” he replied, bringing his hand out to you.

You smiled at Eddie, “I’m Y/N. Nice to finally meet someone with the same music taste as me” 

You shook his hand, causing butterflies to go crazy in your stomach.

As to Eddie, who has a flustered smile on his face, already head over heels for you.

After your encounter at Lover’s Lake, he introduced you to his friends and grew closer with them. You would go to every campaign and watch them play, you didn't know what exactly was happening most of the time but you enjoyed them anyways. As the time went by, your feelings with Eddie grew. 

You wanted to bond more with him by playing D&D but you didn't know how and you were too shy to ask Eddie to teach you. It’s just that, every time you approach him, you become a flustered, nervous wreck - which Eddie finds quite cute. 

𖤐

You look at your wrist and see 7:43PM on your watch. You turn to your friends and it seems like the campaign was about to end. 

“It’s. a. miss!” Eddie says as he bobs his head aggressively. 

Dustin and the rest let out a loud groan, “I told you we should’ve surrendered” says Gareth.

They all started to tidy up and prepare to go back home. You put your bag over your shoulder and dust-off your Hellfire shirt. You take a deep breath and head towards Eddie. “Hey, I was wondering if you could teach me how to play D&D? i-if you’re not busy. I realized that I want to play with you guys and spend more quality time with you all but I don’t know how to play so yeah”

“Sure thing Y/N, I can come over your place tomorrow”

𖤐

Eddie arrives and sets up the game in your bedroom, arranging them one by one. You both take a seat, the game placed neatly on the table in front of you. “So before we start, you first need to create a character”

“Alright, how do I do that?”

“You first choose your race, and class. Here are the different races and classes to choose from” He points at the list in on his hand, moving his chair closer to you.

𖤐

The sun has already set and you finally got the hang of the game.

“You did it Y/N”

Your eyes grow wide, you stand up and start jumping around your room,”Wait what? Oh my god, I really did it! Fuck you Vecna” 

After a few more celebratory jumps, your eyes land on Eddie who’s proudly clapping. You pull him out of the chair and bring him in for a hug, “Thank you for teaching me and for being so patient”

Eddie laughed at your excitement, he loves how much you put an effort in learning a kid’s game for them. Savoring the moment, he makes eye contact with you - admiring how your eyes twinkle in happiness. “Anything for you”

He slowly raises his hand to cup your cheeks, and lean in to press his lips against yours. You immediately melt into his touch, you could still even taste a hint of cigarette from him. It was soft and passionate, it felt like there were fireworks everywhere - like in every fairytale’s ending, where the princess finally kisses her prince charming.

You both pull away and catch your breaths,  “You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to kiss you” he say.

“Same here, since like ages ago” you reply. 

Eddie chuckles softly, “I really like you by the way, in case the whole kissing wasn't clear to you yet” 

“I like you too, Eddie”

𖤐

#stranger things #stranger things scenarios #stranger things headcannons #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson scenarios #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson headcannons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn

[theshippirate22]

NASCAR!Steve/Mechanic!Eddie (Thinking of Someone For Whom He Still Burns)

this one’s for you @grimmfitzz my dear <33 you’re too good to me really I’m going to become undomesticated or something ;)

The house was still thick with gold. 

Eddie dragged his fingers down the cream walls on his way down the stairs, stepping softly so he didn’t break the perfect silence. Not that it was silent; Wayne left the windows open when he went out in the mornings. The white, transparent cotton curtains billowed out, bringing in the warm breeze with them. There was a lawnmower outside, giving some white noise to the gentleness of the house; must be Chrissy finding an excuse to have her headphones on all morning. She probably just got back from her run, still feeling the adrenaline, the restlessness, and electing to put it into something productive. 

The light was amber, the way it seemingly danced in through the walls to fill the house up with the same gold of the daffodils in the flowerbed right outside. The air smelled faintly of greenery, whether it was Chrissy’s grass shavings or Wayne’s precious flower gardens, Eddie couldn’t say. 

He filled a glass with water and sipped on it, washing the taste of sleep from his mouth. Flipped on the tv to add another set of lively voices to the sound of summer mornings. It was already tuned into the news, and he almost went to change it, switch it to cartoons or something, but he had already taken the toaster from the cabinet and suddenly breakfast seemed infinitely more important. 

“-nvestigating the disappearance of the famous racer.” The newscaster explained eagerly. “While officials at California Speedway are still waiting for his arrival, his managers have been holding press conferences to ease the fans’ anxieties.”

Eddie popped two slices of wheat bread into the toaster, and leaned back against the counter to see what was going on.

The film switched from the newscaster lady in a pencil skirt and a blazer, to another woman in a pencil skirt and a blazer, backed by a man with more freckles than should have been possible- Carol Perkins and Tommy Hagan, the caption provided. “We have no reason to suspect foul play regarding our client at this time. We’re sure it’s nothing more than a miscommunication or misunderstanding of some kind. However, if anyone has any information regarding his whereabouts, we urge you to come forward immediately.”

The toast popped out. Eddie burned his hand throwing them onto the plate. 

The newscaster returned as voiceover to footage of the racer- not that you could actually see him; in every shot, he was either wearing his helmet or turned away- from “Tuesday’s Indianapolis Race,” as the caption provided. “Starting last season as a complete rookie-“

“Turn that NASCAR shit off.”

Eddie startled, dropping his toast back on the plate, before realizing Wayne had just gotten back and rushing to swallow the bite he’d just taken. “Just a sec, I wanna see...”

“When competitor Billy Hargrove was asked about his absence, he said:” The clip cut to the grossest man Eddie had ever seen, with long messy, blond hair and the kind of mustache that just screamed I-disrespect-women. “I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s probably blacked out in a ditch somewhere and he’ll show up hungover as hell. In the meantime,” He looked dead at the camera, as if he was speaking directly to the missing racer. “I’ll be here hanging out with The King, buddy.”

The way he said the last word certainly implied nothing congenial about the relationship.

“Fans line the streets outside the Speedway-” The camera panned to corroborate. “-to catch a glimpse of his car. In lieu of last week’s interview, some fans are afraid of a darker story. After announcing on live television that he identified as bisexual, then going missing after just five days has his supporters truly hoping this is just a misunderstanding on his teams’ part.”

And back to the press conference and Miss Carol Perkins. 

“We cannot confirm or deny the rumors of death threats being sent to the team at this time. However, with any large announcement from anyone of any fame, there is expected to be public backlash, and our client’s coming out is no exception. We have worked continuously with security and law enforcement to look into any and all potential threats and provide reasonable protection against them. We have no reason to believe the disappearance is a hate crime in nature or related to the coming out at all. Once again, if anyone has any information-”

The tv shut off, the sudden black of the screen swallowing any of the color and Eddie cried out indignantly. “Wayne! I was watching that!”

Wayne’s flat expression didn’t change, but he answered softly, “It’ll just upset you.” 

That was true-already, Eddie’s toast was starting to taste like sawdust- but it wasn’t like people didn’t get hate-crimed every day. Especially people like Eddie. Like...

Damn, Eddie hadn’t even caught the missing racer’s name. 

Maybe the slimy misogynist was right. Maybe he had just blacked out somewhere, so hungover he forgot what day it was. 

Hopefully.

Yes it’s the plot of Cars (2006). I’ve never watched a NASCAR race in my life. I don’t know anything about NASCAR. This amuses me though so I’m doing it anyway because that’s where I am in my life. Anyway! If you’re interested in more let me know!

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #cars au #nascar racer steve harrington #mechanic eddie munson #the distance #is this crack? yeah okay sure #steddie crack

[conretewings]

The Paths We Cross

-Viktor, needing a part for his newest invention, seeks assistance from a shop of good reputation.

-Set a couple decades before the events of Arcane season one, a young Viktor and my oc Rosemary meet. Just a fun idea I had bouncing around in my head and decided to write for fun and as a gift to the lovely @grumpyoutlaw ❤️

Sticking close to the buildings for safety and an easy escape into a shop if needed was an essential lesson and skill Viktor had learned long ago, one that he was using again this day as he wove his way through the crowded, dank and damp streets. All around vendors hawked their wares from stalls, carts, or even from bulging bags, people milled in front of bars, brothels, or hurried on their way to whatever business they had and everywhere teemed the chaos of the Undercity.

Pausing to re-shoulder his bag to a more comfortable angle across his hip, one where it's weight helped steady his limping gait instead of worsening it, Viktor glanced up at a couple landmarks to note his location and which street to turn down next toward his own destination.

"Let's see...it was-"

Feeling a couple rapid taps on his shoulder, he instinctively clutched his bag and rotated his hand to grip his cane at the perfect angle to defend himself if need be; it wouldn't be the first time.

Whipping his head around at the same moment, he found himself face-to-face with a squat little man in patchwork garb and a seemingly friendly, yet too friendly, grin so wide his crooked teeth poked out. A well-worn bag nearly his size and adorned with various items was strapped to his back, and in his grubby hands something was concealed.

"Greetings, yes most welcome greetings this day young man!" he started in a likely well rehearsed speech, "Tell me yes, tell me, are you hungry? Does your stomach yearn for a tasty morsel? Yearn no more! I have here the solution yes! For a mere two coin I offer the finest fruit one can find!"

With a flourish he opened his hands to reveal an apple clearly past it's prime, brownish soft spots dotting it's surface. Viktor had his suspicions that it likely also housed an insect or two and not wanting to either waste his money, nor evict any possible tenants, he shook his head, managing a polite half smile.

"Thank you sir, but I already ate..."

The man's eye twitched, but maintained his salesman smile, "Goodness my boy but you're thin as that stick you're using yes, poor thing, so thin! Wouldn't a bit of extra food do you well yes? It's such a good deal! A bit of lunch!"

'I'm sure it is, if one wanted to lose their lunch' Viktor thought sarcastically, but carefully started to move away as he said again, "No, thank you, but I wish you luck..."

His smile finally dropping into a sour pout, and grumbling about how he's 'missing out' the man shoved the sad fruit into a pocket and turned to shuffle off. Releasing a sigh of relief, the man's words about his weight nonetheless echoed in Viktor's mind until he bitterly shoved them away and gripping his cane, felt a renewed sense of resolve to find the place he sought and finish the project currently residing in his bag. To that end he stood as tall as possible and went on his way.

A young woman leaned on a heavy, paper-strewn wooden counter with a gnawing sense of boredom, absentmindedly tapping a pencil as she stared at a broken clock she'd been planning to fix sitting next to her. It seemed to reflect and even mock her feeling that time was, in fact, at a standstill. Normally she was proud to be in charge of her family's business, yet today, all she wanted was escape. Looking around the rest of the packed shop with it's shelving and cases of mishmashed parts, half-finished mechanical items, and antiques, nothing sparked her interest. Perhaps she'd dig through the trash again for parts to weld together. That was usually fun. Usually...

Turning her head she shouted, "Dad! Can I shove off early?"

"Absolutely not!" came a bellowed reply from far behind a curtain that served as a divider between the shop and their living quarters, "Your brother has his shift 'n so do you!"

"But I just wanna scrounge up some parts-"

"Birdie, I really need ya to mind the shop. Ya can run about with your friends 'n that beau of yours later! Now lemme finish fixin' the stove please."

She exhaled in exasperation and lowered her head, wishing something, anything would happen. As if by some divine miracle, a few moments later she heard the creak of the heavy door mixed with the musical chime of the bell attached to it. Instantly she snapped into professional mode, standing up tall and putting on a welcoming grin.

"Good day! Wares and Repairs! You break it we can probably fix it! What can we help ya with?"

Using his shoulder to hold the door open while he awkwardly made his way through it, a teen who looked to be around fourteen, though with his prominent limp and slight build it was difficult to tell, let the door shut behind him as he paused to gaze around.

Viktor gaped at the sheer number and amount of items stuffed into the large room which, somehow, was clearly organized in it's own way. Yes, this was certainly the place he'd been told about. The corner of his mouth twitched into a half-smile, feeling a sense of hope and even excitement at the prospects; surely somewhere the treasure he sought lay waiting. So absorbed was he it took a moment for the greeting he'd received to register, and he snapped his attention back to the woman behind the counter.

"Ah, yes, hello," he started, shifting his bag again and approaching, "I've been told this place can fix anything and sells almost anything as well..." planting his good foot for leverage he carefully heaved the bag onto the counter, wincing when a dull metallic thud sounded, "So I would like to know if I could ask for some assistance with this."

"Oh? And what is this?" the woman inquired, her hazel eyes alight with an eager, inquisitive sparkle that somehow set Viktor more at ease. She looked to be somewhere in her mid twenties, with thick chocolate brown hair and clad in well-worn but sturdy looking work overalls, arms covered in bandage wrappings with canvas gloves. Something about her looked very familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Undoing the snaps on the bag, Viktor carefully slid a metal box onto the counter in front of her, a gesture which only seemed to fan her curiosity's flame, as she leaned forward a degree. He turned it around and opened a lid to reveal a carefully painted bird made of tiny pieces of metal and wood atop a wire 'branch'. A hollow area in the center was lined with a worn but still soft piece of velvet.

"A music box!" she inhaled with delight, looking from it to Viktor, "It's lovely! Where did ya get it?"

He cracked another, more proud smile and stood a little straighter, "I made it. It's for my mother, but it's not working yet. Something's off with the gears, and the sound mechanism-"

The woman gaped at him, leaning closer, making to touch it but quickly pulled her hand back, "You-made it?! Freakin' hell lad! This is some sophisticated work!"

The angle at which she was now stooped over the counter accidentally gave Viktor the perfect view of her ample cleavage, an effect that in her enthusiasm she was evidently unaware of. Out of respect and to stop the threat of his cheeks growing warm he quickly flicked his gaze to her face, "Th-thank you. I was hoping you might have the parts and tools I need to complete it."

Grinning she stood, planted her hands on her hips and flicked a stray chunk of hair aside, "If we don't have what ya need, no one does! We've got this ummm," she tilted her head, "Sorry kid what's your name?"

"It's Viktor." he replied with another smile, her energy rubbing off a little, "And you?"

"Name's Rosemary! Now let's get this train movin'!"

It may have been mere minutes, it may have been hours that flew by, neither could truly say nor did they care as they worked together to tear through the shop's extensive collection. Gears and bits and bobs were selected then discarded, or placed on the counter for further inspection until they had a generous pile to work with as they carefully undid the music box's inner mechanisms to test them out.

As they worked they chatted, mostly about their mutual interests in creating or fixing things and experimentation. Rosemary told him the story of her family's business, how her great-grandfather had started it and, proudly, how eventually it would belong to her and her brother. Viktor shared his dreams of scientific discovery, of building new and innovative things to better people's lives.

"I guess we have that in common." said Rosemary softly during a slight lull in conversation.

Viktor lowered the screwdriver he held, "Hmm?"

She gently touched the tiny mechanical bird, "We want to make things better."

Eventually, after a generous amount of trial and error, Rosemary crossed her fingers as Viktor carefully opened the lid-and the bird came to life, spinning and making tinny 'chirping' sounds.

He grinned happily as she cheered with a loud 'woo hoo!' They watched it until the spring-loaded mechanism ran out of tension and the bird's movement ceased.

"Thank you so much for all your trouble," he paused, "And for talking with me. It...means a lot."

"Ya kiddin' me? I've been havin' a great time Viktor!" she chuckled, picking up tools and parts to start putting them away, "I love workin' on stuff! Plus, not everyday I meet someone clever as you!"

He gave a small, unsure laugh as he carefully slipped the box back into his bag and dug into a small coin pouch, counting out what he hoped would be adequate, "I suppose my projects aren't too bad."

Watching Rosemary practically dance about the room with graceful movements and singing softly, that familiarity he'd felt earlier came back, burning at the front of his brain but he still couldn't quite recall where he'd seen her. Shaking his head to focus he held out a hand to her, "Here is my payment. I realize we never discussed it, but this should be enough."

She took the coins, nodding as she counted, "Aye, this'll do..." then cleared her throat, "Actually, I'm not so sure."

Viktor clutched his bag and felt his stomach drop; surely it was adequate for what he'd needed! Was she really not as kind as he'd thought? He didn't really have any more to spare, what about the food he was supposed to pick up on the way home? What about-

Abruptly she snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth, "Ah no I-I was only messin' with ya! It was a joke this is fine! I'm so sorry oh your face lad you're pale as a ghost!"

Releasing the breath he'd been holding in a loud, shaking sigh, he dryly replied, "Yes, yes. Hilarious."

"Tell ya what. I'll make it up to ya; swing by anytime you're workin' on another project and I'll help...and give ya a steep discount. Deal?"

Viktor met her gaze, and seeing the remorse and sincerity there, cracked a slight smile again, "Deal."

"Well, in that case," Rosemary swept an arm around, gesturing to the room, "We thank you for visiting Wares and Repairs and I hope you'll visit us again for your fixin' needs! No guarantees."

He gave a brief laugh, "I'll keep that in mind. Farewell, and thank you again, Rosemary." Securing his bag and adjusting his cane to a more comfortable grip, he headed to the door, and was reaching for the handle-when it unexpectedly flew open, a mountain of a man taking up the entire doorway.

"Oy Rosie! I-oop!"

He skidded to a halt, having just about run smack into Viktor, who gasped sharply, moving quickly but ungracefully to one side before cautiously glancing up. The larger man, who seemed to be about the same age as Rosemary, was looking at him curiously but not unkindly with steel-blue eyes and his thick, muscular arm still held the heavy door open with no apparent effort. He also looked very familiar, but again Viktor couldn't quite place him.

He jerked his head in a 'go ahead' gesture, and Viktor mumbled thanks before quickly starting to walk out. The man was so tall Viktor passed easily under his raised arm.

Pausing in the doorway to readjust his load after that mishap, he watched Rosemary's face light up as the man strode up to her where she had retreated behind the counter and leaned an elbow on it opposite her, the pair engaging in rapid, hushed conversation.

Abruptly he realized where he'd seen the man before; a gathered crowd, indignant shouts, calls for change...and at the center, standing on a pile of crates and junk, there he was. He raised his fist high as his deep voice boomed off the surrounding buildings, two other men at his side. He spoke of pushing back, of standing up for themselves, of a more independent city. Viktor had paused briefly to watch and listen before his father had encouraged him to keep moving. As they left, Viktor heard applause and cheering before the noise faded entirely.

Unexpectedly he felt a seething, burning knot of jealous anger twisting in his gut; this man, with his sheer size and confident charm, probably didn't have to worry about constantly watching his back. He didn't have to hobble around, seeing everyone run about with ease while he was constantly left behind. He probably had lots of friends. He didn't have to hear the whispers, the cruel laughs, the insults. Viktor gripped his cane so hard he thought it may break and spun to leave.

Walking as fast as he could manage, the anger slowly petered out until he only felt a cold numbness where the rage had been, like a lead weight in his stomach. He paused to breathe, finding a relatively safe spot to do so as he gathered his thoughts and tried to calm himself. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair...

Self-pity was not something he normally indulged in, finding it pointless and unproductive, but for a miserable few minutes couldn't stop the racing thoughts. Why was he like this? Why couldn't he run and jump like others? Why was he always sick? Why had fate pointed it's cruel finger at him?

Looking up, he saw in the distance and high above, the proud spires of Piltover's Academy, the late afternoon sun shining off their facades. Slowly, the anger morphed into steely determination and he made a vow to himself-

Someday, somehow, despite his abilities, despite his origins, he would be in those rooms, gazing out over the city and feeling this same sunlight warming his face as he worked toward his dreams...

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane viktor #young viktor #arcane oc #arcane vander #young vander #hope you enjoy

[primalsouls]

Ok so my polyamorous butt loves both Langa and Reki, but there are only a few oneshots on here that show them both together like that. Could you possibly write more if you have the time?

omg it's been such a looong time since i wrote for sk8 😭 i missed my boys orz

since it's been a long time since i wrote for them, they're gonna be a little ooc? i do know that reki can be like excited and fun and langa like quiet yet still determined to be out there, you know lol? but either way, they'll be somewhat ooc 😅

anyway, here's a little something for the meantime while i go rewatch sk8, i just know im not looking forward to seeing that guy 😬 lmao

also blueberry muffins are my fave （˶′◡‵˶）

[08/01/22] I've started this post last week and i just finished and oh man... i did not meant for it to be so long 💀 it was so supposed to be short but i got carried away lmao 😅 also i still haven't rewatch sk8 lol

anyway enjoy! hope you love it! <3

꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷

Sweet like You

pairing: reki kyan x gn! reader x langa hasewaga

theme(s): fluff

warning(s): none

꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷

(Name) stared out the window with their chin propped on the palm of their hand boredly as the teacher continued on about some chemistry problems and their equations written on the board, his back turned on the students. Their mechanical lead pencil twirled lazily in their fingers, a low sigh going through their nose. The young skater stopped listening to the lecture a few minutes ago. Class was already half an hour in. Their mind had long abandoned the subject of today's lessons, swimming down a path of old memories as their eyes stared at the passing clouds. It was a windy day. Their boyfriends mentioned doing some more skill practices after school during their lunchtime for one of Langa's upcoming races with one of the known skaters in the underground group which both boys refused to let (Name) in.

Although (Name) really didn't had any intentions of joining in the S organization. They weren't one for racings or competing against others. They had seen the injuries both Reki and Langa received. It broke their heart seeing their boys be cover in bandages. Such injuries brought an old childhood memory of theirs.

Back when they first started skating on their own, they would be cover in band-aids themselves after spending hours upon hours on learning how to ride a board. After an hour of struggling to step on the board without sliding off from it and earning themselves a scratch on one of their palms or knees, (Name)'s mother would bake them their favorite treat, a plate of warm, delicious blueberry muffins with a glass of milk beside it. Just from the thought of it in their memories made their mouth watered.

Before their mind wander further into their memories, the last bell of the school day rang throughout the whole building. Students begun to pack their stuffs while the teacher remind them of their lessons and their homework for the night, (Name) taking their time as the rest of their classmates rush out to hurry home.

Bored (colored) eyes looked at the school building as the owner stood beside the gates. They waited patiently for their boyfriends to meet up with them at the gates, as they promised during lunch. Squinting their eyes, (Name) saw a mop of baby bluer hair bouncing slightly as Langa ran up them with a determined look on his face.

"(Nickname)!" Langa called out as he reached them, his signature skateboard in hand while the other held his bookbag. "Ready to go? Reki said he would catch up to us later at the usual spot. One of his teachers held him back to get him back on track on his assignments." He explained. (Name) mouthed out an 'oh' as they nodded.

"Ah, I see... I imagined it was the English teacher, huh?" They said, shaking their head when Langa nodded. Though, they didn't mind starting on the training without Reki, (Name) wanted to hang out with both their boys. "How about we wait for Reki st my house? Besides, I've been thinking about making some blueberry muffins. We can make some together and eat them when Reki comes over." They suggested, looking at the other skater.

Lanha stared at his partner, a clear look of a debate going in his head.

"Okay." He answered after a moment of silence.

(Name) grinned and took his hand in theirs, intertwining their fingers as they led the way to find a grocery store.

It was getting close to evening. Reki had texted to the trio's group chat about coming over to (Name)'s house. Thankfully it was a Friday night, having the whole weekend to spend it over at their house while going out to get some training done. Langa and (Name) spent the rest of the time until Reki came back from school gathering the ingredients and measuring them up. From preparing the batter, to mixing the berries in to baking the muffins and letting them cool down after taking them out of the oven.

The duo heard furious knocks coming from the front entrance of the house. (Name) gestured to Langa to stay in the kitchen and place the muffins on plate as they went to check who was at the door. Their eyes beamed when familiar face grinning back at them.

"(Nickname)!" Reki announced, already wrapping his arms around the other skater. "Aah, I missed you!" He said, nuzzling his face against their shoulder. (Name) laughed as they returned the hug and patted his hair.

"It's only been a few hours after school, Reki." They said, chuckling at the cute pout the boy gave after pulling away from the hug to look at them.

"Still! It felt like days." Reki commented, moving away inside the house to let his partner close the door behind them. "Where's Langa? Didn't he came home with you?"

(Name) nodded over to the kitchen before heading back to it with Reki following behind. "Yeah, he did. We stopped by a store to buy some stuff to make my favorite muffins." They answered, grinning lazily when they saw Langa tried to keep a small pyramid of blueberry muffins together on the plate. He wore a concentration look on his face, little bit of his tongue stick out with his brows frowned down their forehead. "Langa~, Reki's here."

Cutting his attention away from a muffin falling down the top of the food pyramid, Langa stood back up with a smile. "Reki! Look, I helped (Nickname) made their favorite muffins." He said, pointing at the muffins with a proud smile on his features. Reki chuckled and nodded, walking over with (Name).

"It really does look delicious."

"Right! I hope they taste as good as my mom had done for me."

"They're cool down, so let's try them."

With Langa's suggestion coming into actions, each skater grabbed a muffin and took a bite into the treat.

"Ooh... They're so good!"

"Really? I think they're second to my mom's."

"Tastes sweet like you..."

Silence grew over the trio as Reki and (Name) looked over at Langa and his comment. Right in the exact moment after the comment left the blue-haired boy's lips, a rudy shade blush decorated (Name)'s cheeks.

"L-Langa, dude! Don't say such corny shit!" (Name) whined, pouting as they covered their face after putting the muffin back on the plate, growing flustered. Langa smiled as Reki laughed loudly.

"Haha! He's not lying, though!" Reki said, pulling their hands away. Once his partner looked at him, Reki stole a quick kiss from them. "See, you do taste like blueberry muffins, so sweet!" He teased, grinning at the other skater's face continued to burn from the teasing.

Witnessing the teasing, Langa huffed and took (Name) by their chin and made them face him, planting a quick kiss, too, surprising them further more as their flushed face grew heated one last time. They sweared they looked like a ripe tomato if the tease continue further. "Hm... Sweet..." Langa muttered, smiling at his partner. Reki grinned, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my gosh..." (Name) whispered under their breath, covering their face once more. "You guys are so corny..." They sighed, smiling a little as their heart fluttered against their chest. (Name) was glad to met the two boys. The duo always know how to get under their skin with the teasing and the affection. They don't mind it, though. It always brings a smile to their heated face and make their heart flutter in love.

#x reader #reki kyan #langa hasewaga #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #x female reader #sk8 x reader #sk8 x male reader #sk8 the infinity x gender neutral reader #sk8 the infinity x male reader #sk8 x female reader #sk8 x gender neutral reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 the infinity x female reader #reki x gender neutral reader #reki x female reader #reki x male reader #reki x reader #langa x male reader #langa x female reader #langa x reader #langa x gender neutral reader #primal writes #primal answers

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Lonely for too Long: Bo Sinclair x amab!reader

Part 2/2

Masterlist

Part 1: Somethin’ Stupid

18+

Warnings: Homophobic parents (mentioned), use of F slur casually, sex, blowjob, cum play?, anal.

A/N: I don’t know why I got gender envy from whoever I was imagining as the reader but I was so yeah 🤭🤭

The sun began to set as you made your way into Ambrose. The town had lots of cars still in it and you could hear some people chattering in a distance. All of that surprised you, could’ve sworn people left when the sugar mill shut down. At least that’s what your parents told you during college graduation. You knew Bo and his brothers would still be here, especially if Bo stopped contacting you all together, giving zero updates on his life.

Your car stops at the old gas station and your feet his the pavement.

It’s been 16 years. Bo and you stopped sending letters after 4 years and a year after that you two stopped calling. You had asked your parents, who at the time still lived in Ambrose, if Bo was alright. They’d update you but after the Sugar Mill shut down they left, leaving you not knowing what Bo or even his brothers were doing.

A bell dings against the glass door when you open it. “Hello?!” You shout, peaking your head in, you decide to just walk in. Boot’s tap from down below, getting louder and louder until you see a man in a mechanics uniform. You smile.

“Hey Bo.”

“Blue?”

Your heart swells like it did when you were teens. He walks up to you carefully, as if you’re a bird who’ll flee if he approaches too fast.

He touches your face, his hands dry and rubbery. Sad blue eyes meet yours. “The hell are ya doin’ here?”

“I promised I’d come back didn’t I?”

You cover Bo’s hands with yours, his face is thinking. The crinkle between his brows gives it away. Bo lets out a huge laugh, his head flying back.

“Yeah I guess you did..”

Bo let’s go of your face and smacks your back like he did when you two would walk together during school. “I’m gonna close up. You can head up to the house and I’ll meet you there.”

-

The house was messy when you came in, books and papers scattered everywhere, the dishes weren’t done in the sink, and ash seemed to have missed the tray as it was on the end table by the couch. You sigh disappointed Bo never dropped the habit.

He was at the house moments later.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess… I uh would’ve cleaned if I knew you’d be here. I’m gonna go change. We don’t have much to eat I’ll make us some pizza though. Some beers in the fridge.. Do you drink? Sorry just assumed-“

“Yeah.” You laugh. “I can get the pizza started and I’ll pull out some for us. Go change.” You snort and nod your head towards the stairs. He nods awkwardly then turns, starting to unbutton his mechanic’s shirt and walk up the stairs. You go into the kitchen and pull out the beers and a frozen pizza, turn on the oven and go find the bottle opener. Luckily the drawers are still decent, silverware where the silverware should be, kitchen utensils either in a drawer or in the large jar Mrs. Sinclair used to use to hold them. You find the bottle opener with a bunch of clutter, notepads, pencils, pens, scissors.

The oven beeps by the time you actually grab it and you make your way over to put the pizza in the oven. You set the timer then go to sit in a chair to open the beers.

Bo comes in minutes later, his hair looks tidy, he wears a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants you’re sure were given to him years ago for Christmas.

He sits in the kitchen chair across the table and takes his beer sipping it.

“How’s work-” Bo pauses for a second as if he’s unsure of himself. “Been?” His voice goes higher.

Your body freezes, you let out an awkward laugh. “It was good for awhile. Had a lot of benefits and met a lot of people… I uh- got laid off a couple of months ago. Everyone from the team I was on moved and looked for a different job. We never contacted each other or shit so. I kinda went through a midlife crisis, sold my house, went to do a couple of ‘adventurous’ things and then decided to come here for a job. I knew they wouldn’t have anything computer sciencey here but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Bo purses his lips and nods. “Your parents doin’ alright?” He asks, trying to change the subject.

“I assume so. They’re probably pissed their son ended up a faggot but it’s okay cause they have other kids that won’t disappoint them.” Your heart aches but you shrug nonchalantly, messing with the condensation on your bottle.

“How’d they find out?” Bo asks, his tone seems more aggressive, like he’s jealous but you shake it off, not wanting to read too much into it.

“Well you know how in high school I’d sleep with a girl every other week?” You joke. Bo snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah no, I told them I hadn’t found any girl at work or anywhere that peeked my interest. Then I told them they probably won’t get a daughter-in-law and they freaked out. I never actually said I liked men. They kinda just assumed it, I guess cause I never dated anyone. I mean I do like men and I know, I wouldn’t be happy being with a woman for the rest of my life but still. Then they told me not to contact them anymore. So I haven’t.”

“So no wife or kids?”

You scoff. “Yeah if that’s what you got out of the conversation then yes no wife or kids.“ You then roll your eyes and smile playfully. The timer goes off on the pizza and you both get up at the same time.

“I can get it.” Bo says. You nod and sit back down.

“So what about you, Mr. Sinclair. No Mrs, No Jr?” You ask looking at him, then lifting your bottle to sip your drink. He shakes his head.

“No.” He laughs. “No, No wife or kids either. Had a few girlfriends, if you could call them that. But that’s it.”

The oven door slams shut, he grabs the pizza cutter to slice the pizza.

“Mmm, I always saw you with a wife. Thought when we stopped talking that’s what happened.”

Bo walks back over and sets your plate, then his down. “Things just happened. Ma kicked the bucket around that time. Your parents used to ask me how I was. I’d say fine. Then everyone left after the sugar mill shut down.”

You I furrow your brows.

“What’re all those cars doing out there then?”

“Got them from the junkyard. Makes the place feel more alive.” Bo shrugs, he takes a bite of his pizza. You nod and eat yours too.

“How’re Vincent and Lester?”

“Lester moved a few miles from here. He visits every week or so and Vincent is here. He’s just busy with his art. I’m guessin’ you plan on stayin’ for a minute. You’ll probably see him tomorrow at some point.” Bo shrugs. “Gets caught up in his work, but we all do.”

You nod in agreement. Bo and you finish and he takes your plate, setting it in the already filled sink. You watch as he shrugs to himself, again putting off cleaning them.

“Can sit on the porch for a bit?” Bo points towards the back door, you grab your beer and follow after him. Bo flicks on the porch light and you two sit on a bench listening to the crickets. He pulls out a pack of smokes and lights one.

“Didn’t break the habit I see.”

You watch as he blows smoke into the air. He shakes his head. “Nah, I tried for a week a few years back. Was back to it the next Sunday at midnight.”

“Guess now you don’t gotta hide it from your parents.” You elbow him playfully. His nose crinkles along with his eyes, showing his crows feet. You can’t help but stare at him, watching as his lips go around the cigarette and how he drags it.

You remember when he made you take a drag of one of his cigarettes and you were stuck in a horrible coughing fit. He never let you try it again.

“Blue.”

You let out a small gasp and look away, instead looking at the tree line and stars above it. “Yeah?”

“Nothin’.. you were just starin’.” His arm goes around the back of the bench. You tense up but try and relax again. You take a swig of your beer, set it down on the concrete, then look at Bo. A stroke of confidence paints you. You reach up and turn his head towards you.

“Promise you don’t gotta wife.”

Bo licks him lips and looks into your eyes and at your lips. “I promise.”

“Good cause I don’t wanna be no homewrecker.”

Bo lets a small snort escape his nose. You smile and lean in, tasting the tobacco on his lips. He drops he cigarette on the concrete porch and stomps on it to let it out, then takes both of his hands and cups your face.

You pull away and smile. His thumb traces your bottom lip.

“Blue.”

God love live that stupid nickname. All that it took was you wearing a different blue shirt everyday for him to come up with it.

“Yes?”

“I missed you so much. Please stay.”

“Okay.” You smile, Bo leans in again and kisses your lips, this time sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You open your mouth and take his t-shirt in your hands, groaning as you two okay with your tongues.

Bo grabs the back of your head with one hand and holds your thigh with the other. He kisses lightly but sloppily down your cheek and your neck. You feel as his hand sneaks into your jeans, you push him back playfully. “Not out here jackass.” You say. Bo is panting, his cheeks a bright red, he wastes zero time and grabs your hand pulling you through the house, up the stairs and to his bedroom.

You pull your shirt off and undo your jeans, yanking them down. Bo’s hands are on you again, touching and feeling every part of your body. You take his white t-shirt off and the old pajama pants. Bo pushes you onto his bed and kisses your chest, moving down until he hits your happy trail. He groans at the sight of it.

Bo kisses it and pulls off your boxers. Bo licks up your shaft before taking it in his mouth. Your cock twitches as you feel his tongue licking around the head. “Shit Bo.” You mumble. He starts bobbing his head up and down, spit drooling out of his mouth You run your hands through his hair and grip onto it when he plays with your balls. Your back arches and you let out somewhere between a moan and a squeal, having never felt this before.

You’d never even had sex before.

“Shit, don’t stop. Mouth feels good. It’s so good..” You babble. Your hips thrust up into his mouth, he gags at his but you don’t apologize, you wanna do it over and over again.

Your cock twitches. You groan feeling your orgasm pooling in you. “I’m-“ you groan, spurting into Bo’s mouth. His mouth comes off of your cock with a ‘pop’. Some of your cum leaks onto his chin. You sit up and kiss Bo, licking your cum off his face.

“Thought you said you only had girlfriends?” You raise a brow playfully.

He sits next to you and goes through his bedside table shrugging. “Girlfriends, boyfriends, one night stands, all different bodies. Didn’t wanna make a big deal or whatever so I ‘summarized’.” Bo has a bottle of lube in his hand when he does the air quotes. He shuts the drawer a turns around.

“Not one of them could ever beat you though. I’ll tell you that.”

You laugh. “We haven’t even had actual sex yet.”

“I ain’t just talkin’ about sex dumbass. I couldn’t talk to them how I talk to you. I wasn’t afraid of bein’ with you no matter if we got caught or not. Wasn’t afraid to cry or be happy. You’re everything to me Blue.” Bo explains. He furrows his brows. “Now enough sappy shit. I wanna fuck you.”

Bo kisses you again, he manhandles you so your legs are spread facing the headboard. You lay back again and watch as he squirts lube on his middle finger, he plays with your hole, spreading the lube around it, then prodding and pushing his finger in. You moan. “Relax for me.”

You nod your head and do just that, he thrusts his finger in a few times then pulls out, adding more lube and going in with two fingers. Your back arches.

“Fuck Bo!”

Your eyes roll back. He huffs.

“Told you to relax.”

“Shut up! I’ve never had sex with a man before asshole.” You groan, absolutely flustered. You feel his fingers loosening you up and relax unto him. He fingers you until your cock twitches and you let out a high pitched moan.

“Shit! Do that again.” You start to drool, he chuckles and curls his fingers again, they hit your prostate and you groan. Bo then slowly slides his fingers out, and you watch as he puts lube on his cock. The cool gel hid your hole again and he lifts your legs, positioning his cock towards your hole.

“I really need you to relax for me baby.”

Your chest flutters at the pet name and you nod. He leans over you and kisses your cheek before sliding slowly in you. Your mouth opens, it hurts yet feels so good as he stretches you.

You grip onto his hair and attempt to relax into his touch.

“Fuck, fuck, ah. Fuck me.” You groan, eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Your eyes open and you laugh softly. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

Bo slowly pulls back out before slamming into you. You cry out, he starts thrusting roughly into your ass. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him just as rough as his pace. Biting his lip, he lets out groans of his own. He opens his mouth wider and you shove your tongue in, playing with his.

Bo groans and grips your waist feeling up and down your body. His hands rough and dry. He lets go and angles you up more. “Bo, Jesus fuck. Fuck!” You pant as yours and his mixed spit comes down your face. He hits your prostate over and over again causing your cock to twitch.

“You like that? Huh?” He teases, you nod. “Say it, say how much you love my cock in your ass.”

Your tongue falls out of your mouth and you roll your eyes up into your head. You bite your lip. “I love your cock on my ass Bo. It feels so good.”

Bo quickens his pace making a knot form in your stomach. It tightens and tightens as he pounds into your prostate.

“Gonna cum Bo. Fuck..”

Bo smirks and uses one of his hands to touch your cock, making you cum instantly. Your body twitches, cum spurts all over you and him. You let out a loud groan, thrusting your hips in the air.

Bo keeps going, moving you back so your whole body is on the bed. You’re sensitive and whine as he finishes in you.

Bo pulls out slowly and cum leaks out of your ass. He sits up and grabs your arm hauling you onto him.

You kiss up his chest and move his chin down with your thumb to kiss his lips.

When you two part you end up looking into his eyes. You smile lazily at him and begin to close your eyes.

“So happy to see you again.”

“I am too. Now we can complete that dream of yours.”

You nod your head, not even realizing what Bo exactly meant. But Bo knew. You, Bo, Vincent, and (sometimes) Lester, living in the middle of nowhere. Where no one has to know about your relationship.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x oc #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax

[ariel-seagull-wings]

FICTIONAL CHARACTER ASK: JANINE MELNITZ

Asked by anonimus

@thereisnoblogonly-zuul​

@professorlehnsherr-almashy @thealmightyemprex @goodanswerfoxmonster @the-blue-fairie @princesssarisa @gravedangerahead @parxsisburning @softlytowardthesun @themousefromfantasyland @filmcityworld1 @lord-antihero @lioness--hart

@budcortfancam @bixiebeet @spengnitzed @angelixgutz @stantzed @janeb984 @amalthea9

Favorite Thing About Them: Let's face it, besides Lois Maxwell's portrayal of Miss Moneypenny in the James Bond film series, there weren't really other examples of desk secretaries so well developed as Janine Melnitz. It is a hard job, and vital to keep government institutions and companies organized, but like the also hard work of being a howsewife, it is often overlooked because is a job associated with women that writers tend to think it won't be interesting to audiences as " the stories of man of action going into a battlefield or other dangerous kind of adventure" that they often choose to focus on. So to have this simple working class lady being portrayed with charisma, as we empathize with the boredom, excitement, confidence, anger, stress and fear that she shows as she navigates trough her job, acting as the human element that helps to keep us grounded in this fantastic story about scientists hunting ghosts in New York City, is marvelous to watch. And she is also shown to be able to adapt and become a competent Ghostbuster in her own right, even leading a back up team while being someone who, like Winston Zeddemore, didn't got access to an Ivy League University Doctorate, showing that there are other forms of being inteligent besides having a golden framed diploma, like conecting with the general public and providing emotional support for friends who need it.

Least Favorite Thing About Them: The fact that when Ghostbusters 2 went to take inspiration from the cartoon The Real Ghostbusters, it made the mistake of only getting inspiration from the character design in the messy later seasons, ignoring the idea of her acting as the fifth Ghostbuster presented by the first two seasons and instead making her have a sexual escapade with Louis Tully out of nowhere to boost his confidence so Louis could be the new fifth Ghostbuster. The writers of the second movie, wich was the same team as the first one, had the template to make progress in making a urban fantasy adventure comedy story where man and woman worked together as a team to save the day without seeing anything weird about it, and didn't tooked any advantage of it.

Three Things I Have In Common With Them:

*I have short hair and wear glasses;

*I often use sarcasm as a mechanism to cope with problems;

*I also work behind a desk with a computer, telephone, pencil and paper;

Three Things I Don’t Have In Common With Them:

*I'm not an american from New York City;

*I'm not a red head;

*I wouldn't have the courage to fight against ghosts and monsters that she has;

Favorite line:

From the July 1983 Script Draft:

"The phones? I wouldn't say the calls are pouring in, Dr. Venkman."

"Good night, Egon."

"Is it alright if I watch?"

"Thank you."

From the October 1983 Script Draft:

"Who do you think you're talking to, Mister? Do I look like a child? You can't come in here without some kind of warrant or writ or something."

"It's a sign, all right... "Going out Of Business."

"I want you to have this."

"It's a souvenir from the 1964 World's Fair at Flushing Meadow. It's my lucky coin."

"Keep it anyway. I have another one at home."

From the 1984 movie:

"You're very handy. I can tell. I bet you like to read a lot, too."

"Oh, that's very fascinating to me. I read a lot myself. Some people think I'm too intellectual, but I think it's a fabulous way to spend your spare time. I also play racquetball. Do you have any hobbies?"

"Hello, Ghostbusters. Yes, of course they're serious. [she paused and sat back down] You do? You have? No kidding. Uh-huh. Well, just, uh, just give me the address. Yes, of course. Oh, they'll be totally discreet. Thank you."

"We got one!"

"Do you believe in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trans-mediums, the Loch Ness monster and the theory of Atlantis?"

"I've quit better jobs than this."

"Ghostbusters! What do you want!?"

"You are so kind to take care of that man. You know, you're a real humanitarian."

From the novelization of the 1984 movie:

"Would I kid you?... Well, the soonest we could possibly get back to you would be a week from Friday... I'm sorry, but we're completely booked until then... Uh huh... All I can suggest is that you stay out of your house until we can get to you.... Well, in that case. I'd be not to provoke it. You're welcome."

"Egon, there's something very strange about that man. I'm very psychic usually, and right now I have this teerible feeling that something awful is going to happen to you. I'm afrayed you're going to die."

"That's so romantic. "

"You're sweet, Egon."

brOTP: Peter Venkman, Ray Stantz, Winston Zeddemore, Dana Barrett, Tiyah Clarke, Louis Tully, Kylie Griffin, Melanie Ortiz, Louise, Irena Cortez, Bryan Welsh, Ilyssa Selwin, Walter Peck.

OTP: Egon Spengler.

nOTP: Ron Alexander.

Random Headcanon: Her maternal family is of german-irish, lutheran and catholic background, while her paternal family is of ucranian, polish and georgian jewish background. She always took part in traditions of both sides of her family, but has more strong identification with the jewish side.

Unpopular Opinion: I understand the idea of the Real Ghostbusters cartoon series episode Janine, You Changed being an attempt to criticize the executives that wanted to force Janine into what they deemed conventional patterns of femininity by inserting the plot of an evil fae that prays on insecurities manipulating Janine after she feels insecure about her appearance, but I think that is still out of character because when it camed to her physical appearance, Janine never seemed likely to feel insecure about it, but take pride in it. If a writer really wanted to explore some insecurity in her in a way that felt organic, it would make more sense to explore her insecurity due to the fact that she camed from a working class background and didn't have access to a college and university doctorate like Peter, Ray and Egon because of lack of money or family connections and because the universities criteria to accept new students is arbitrary and elitist, but Winston, who also shares a working class background, and the other Ghostbusters would assure her that just because she isn't a former Ivy League graduate, doesn't mean she is less inteligent or capable to understand the work of tracking and studying the supernatural.

Songs I Associate With Them:

Elusive Butterfly

If

Andante, Andante

Somebody to love

You Are the Sunshine of My Life

Stay

Favorite Picture of Them:

Annie Potts in the 1984 movie

In the original two seasons of the Real Ghostbusters animated series

In the IDW licensed comics

#fictional character ask #character ask meme #fandom musings #ghostbusters 1984 #the real ghostbusters #idw ghostbusters #janine melnitz #annie potts #Youtube

[gillianthecat]

I watched episode 10 of Love Mechanics and, while I'm still not thrilled with the direction they took the series after the Ploy incident in episode 7, there were many things I liked about the final.

Spoilers below...

First off, I think both War and Yin are charismatic actors, so I always enjoy seeing them onscreen, together or separately, laughter or tears. And there were a lot of sweet moments for Mark and Vee, especially in the second half. Their flirting while studying was so adorable 😍. And the sweet little note Vee put in Mark's pencil box!! I was charmed by their conversation in Vee's bedroom when Vee asked Mark to tell him he loved him again. The rooftop proposal. Even when the setting or the dialogue felt flat or cliched, the actors always made the characters and their feeling for each other feel so real.

I was so excited when they brought up the specter of jealousy! That's what I've been wishing for them do since episode 7! Which is hilarious, because usually I detest jealousy as a plot point for established couples. But in this case, it felt to me like an unresolved issue because [see previous rant].

And obviously it did to Mark as well, since he was so bothered by the students at the bar saying that Vee would cheat again, but he brought it up so tentatively and Vee's response was not an actual response. "You're so hot, I'll never get bored," isn't a meaningful reflection on the fact that Vee has cheated before, that in fact their relationship started as an affair. I don't need or even want my fictional characters to perfectly resolve all their issues by the end, but narratively this felt like a major thematic thread that was just dropped. (Perhaps they dealt with this issue off screen, but I feel like as the audience, we too needed some resolution on it.)

I am glad they brought it up at all, though. I much prefer that to it being dropped entirely. And I do think the show creators thought they were resolving it with the whole Vee-isn't-cheating-he's working-to-provide-for-Mark storyline. Which I liked, it was very cute! But it didn't provide the reckoning that I was craving.

I wasn't thrilled with the family story line, because it felt too rushed to do it justice. I felt like it brought up some real and relevant issues around family and class, but because it was so rushed Mark's parents felt like caricatures careening from plot point to plot point. Probably a lot of my annoyance though came from my constant refrain since episode 7: "you don't need to bring in new plots to create conflict, the original ones are still there and waiting!!" So it wasn't so much that the parents stuff was bad, I just wanted the show to be doing something else.

This is more of a question than a comment: I also noticed how everyone, including his father, kept casting Mark in (what seemed to me to me) the 'feminine role.' His father's stated problem with Vee was that Vee wouldn't be able to take care of Mark. Which, I get how it brings up the class difference issue (which I'm all for examining) but it didn't make sense to me why they would be thinking that way. They're both guys! Mark is rich, why wouldn't he be the one to take care of Vee? I get that Mark's the uke, but does everyone else around them see them in terms of that private dynamic? Is it because Vee is older? Is there Thai cultural context that I'm missing? Or it just that BL feels the need to say uke=the girl in all contexts of their life?

Speaking off which, my absolute favorite scene in the episode was the sex scene on the roof. At first I was going, oh no, more rigid heterosexual roles, Mark used to be so much more interesting than that. And then Mark was like, psych! I am still interesting! Have some kinky roleplay where I am the senior and the dom.

And it was fun and hot, of course, but the reason I loved it was it gave us back the Mark we'd met at the beginning - the one who liked sex, who pursued his senior, who flirted with a taken man, who could be biting and mean. He never became passive exactly, he always spoke up for himself and made his own decisions. But I think post episode 7, the storylines that the show chose required him to be more of a "generic uke," and I guess to me he was starting to feel a bit bland. But the ending was like, oh ok, the Mark we all fell in love with is still here and isn't going anywhere.

And that, honestly, went a good ways toward redeeming the show for me.

Also, I had been thinking earlier during the episode that it was interesting that the show gave us high heat at the beginning, when they were messy and cheating, but now they were in a relationship, they seemed scared to even show us a kiss. So I was glad to see that wasn't entirely true.

#love mechanics episode 10 #love mechanics reaction #my ramblings #markvee #love mechanics critical #love mechanics the series #veemark #love mechanics #love mechanics spoilers

[westopoliscity]

Hi. Woof. I got tagged in a thing by @gillbuoy! Which I shall now be doing (wowzers! Thank you for tagging me btw ^_^. Woof.)

hot shower or cold shower: Hot. Any day of the week if the water is not slowly cooking me into a fine aspen stew what the fuck is the point honestly

texting or calling: Texting. Always. I get soooo nervous in discord vcs because of my parents walking slash not liking my voice slash previously being teased by my parents for things ive said so. Text. Far better. Plus I can do :3 ^_^ :] and woof arf bark!!!

ear buds or headphones: headphones hurty :[

paperback or hard cover: Redwall paperback books ruined the paperback book experience for me... some prints of the books are so. Squished and hard to hold apart for reading and hard cover books in general feel. Nice and substantial and theyre great I love them so much

matte or gel: Stares blankly. I have no clue what this means or what context this applies to!

twelve hour or twenty four hour clock: i have to think with 24 hour clocks and im bad enough at 12 hour clock math

Sci-fi or horror: C neither

blue or green: hmm. Whatever could my answer here be. I wonder... no way its blue. Not in a million trillion years ^_^

sunsets or sunrises: Sunsets! Im a night person 100% and theres something so... beautifully magical about a nice sunset. A calming feeling. Like im sitting on the roof of my house staring out across a backyard forest, drinking away at cans of soda and joking away with friends. Fireflies are lighting up the air and the night creatures are plentiful. That kinda mental image.

tulips or orchids: orchids are. Special to me in a way, I suppose. Where I live, Irises are very plentiful and ive found them. Absolutely beautiful ever since I was a child first exploring the area around my old shed in my old backyard discovering the mysterious, tall flowers blooming behind it. My father mistakenly called them orchids, and I know now, obviously, that they're irises- but despite that thinking about orchids brings back such a strong mental image of those magical purple flowers with the white and black striping, and that neighborhood I grew so attatched too and loved for years. I miss that area a whole lot.

candle light or moon light: moonlight. Always. Its so. Pretty and. Truly magical and while candle light is great, well. Nothing beats the moon herself, to me at least

pen or pencil: I have... terribly sloppy handwriting. I frequently make mistakes in how I write things. Pens are my natural enemies and as much as I love using them ill stick to mechanical pencils always

pandas or koalas: pandas: one of my first comfort stuffed animals ever after. A big life change made me lose all of the ones I once loved so much. I found him at a garage sale and I kind of fell in love with him immediately. Instead of black, his markings are a soft blue color and hes the perfect size for hugging and he was the perfect comfort after so long spent with my bed feeling so. Painfully empty. He helped me through some really, really rough times too. Hes worn already, despite having him for only 2 or 3 years or so now, but given the fact that some of that wear is tear stains bravely taken, I think he deserves to show some wear methinks.

gold or silver: I like grey man. What else am I to say

sneakers or boots: sneakers are the devils creation and I will wear winter goddamned boots year round if im allowed theyre comfy. And they look nice.

denim or leather jacket: I have no personal experience but uh. From an aesthetic point of view. Leather just looks really fucking cool. Thats all I can say really

pink or purple: I won't go deep into this because ive done enough personal rambling for a tumblr tag game post but. Purple irises, as I've mentioned, and memories of some people I once held so very close. That's all I'll say

chocolate or sour candy: i will devour an entire bag of sour candy given the opportunity just you watch me

drive in movie theater or the cinema: C neither again. Im not particularly a. Movie watcher really and. Bad associations with the cinema and drive in movie theater. Also uncomfortable associations for different reasons

deoderant or perfume: perfume makes me feel dsyphoric (a lot of things painted as traditionally. Girly. Do really, its a hard thing to shake for me. I still find it hard to accept. The color pink, fully)

pastel blue or earth tones: sorry blue! You actually suck here. Earth tones are very calm and comforting, they bring to mind an autumn forest or a cozy library space. I prefer daker and greyish blue shades, generally

lemonade or fruit juice: let me get my grubby little paws near lemonade your never seeing that batch ever again

past or future: In. A generalized broad way, the past, I suppose? But really. Neither. Its hard to keep myself rooted to a broad version of the past, and the future... no.

And now comes the time to pass this off to a couple other people so, I summon forth: @nintendont2502! @thebaby-is-you! And! @murrittimeswithscar! Participation optional and anyone unmentioned is free to hop in but I had to tag someone So! Yep!

#lot of personal rambling for a tag game post huh

[roseartsandfics]

Snowfall Romance

The night was cold, and it was Christmas Eve. Edward was asleep on his bed that he might've had after returning to his castle due to the incident with Kevin and Jim. He breathes slowly and quietly as the weather outside grew colder. Then, from outside his room, he hears a strange vocalization. Edward slowly peeled his eyes open quickly after hearing strange sounds coming from the other room. He started to get up from his bed and slowly walked downstairs. The room was lighting up a light blue aura. As Edward made it to the bottom floor, what he saw was somebody who knew ever so long.

It was the ghost of Kim.

Edward looks into the face of a girl he knew in awe, his eyes widened, and never knew he would see Kim again after their goodbyes. Kim smiled brightly at the man she loved, her face glows like if it was the aura of the lights from the North Pole. Edward gave the smile back to her as they both walked towards each other and looked into their eyes, their smile gleamed as the sun. Then, the room went dim as the two were suddenly transported into an empty field full of snow. Snowflakes were falling from the night sky. Edward and Kim smiled at each other as they came closer. Edward carefully takes his lover’s hand, trying not to scratch her, and Kim takes her lover’s hand as well. The two started to dance romantically and warmly through the snowfall. Kim twirled around slowly, and looks at Edward into his eyes as the blue aura rose brightly. The two continued to dance, until the background turns dim again, and as Edward opened his eyes, Kim was gone. The man stopped dancing as the he returns to his castle as everything returned to normal.

All of what he saw is just a dream. A dream.

Edward walked up back to his room in sadness and loneliness, thinking about the dream he had. When he remained back in bed, he closed his eyes, thinking about one girl he loved in his dream. Kim. Kim. Kim…

Though, he would miss her dearly. He would…

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My neck is aching as hell agggghhhh.

So here’s the drawing I did yesterday with Edward and Kim dancing through the snowfall. Ever since watching Edward Scissorhands during Halloween, I might have a connection that I may like Edward and Kim ^^. So I watched it today when Christmas was coming soon and having this displayed after yesterday of drawing this piece, and also written a short fanfic (hope my writing skills is okay ^^;) ! <3 The blue aura around Kim was pretty impressive! <3

Edward was still hard to draw ^^;

What y'all think?

Edward (character), Kim, Kevin (mentioned), Jim (mentioned) and Edward Scissorhands ©Tim Burton, Tom Duffield, Caroline Thompson and 20th Century Fox

Artwork ©SuperShadowSilver

No copyright infringement is intended

Used: mechanical pencil and 48 pack colored pencils

#traditional art #fanart #20th century fox #20th century fox fanart #edward scissorhands #edward scissorhands fanart #tim burton fanart #tim burton #kim #edward #edward x kim #dance #snowfall #christmas #christmas 2022 #christmas artwork #romance #fluff

[roseprincessarts]

Dessert et Café Goût sucré

Dessert et Café Goût sucré (Dessert and Coffee Sweet Taste)

Lui donne une belle combinaison (Gives it a fine combination)

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Not so creative title:/, but eh, it's good enough ^^;

Well, I'm BACK from my vacay ^_~

And man, was that fun at SeaWorld yesterday! I had a really good time, except the fact I got sick from two rides, the Kraken and the Maiko, and they were HUGE ones ^^; When I got upside down, I was getting woozy and my stomach turned, and fast. The second big one isn't so bad, I think the first one aftermath was getting into me that I had to drink water and Coke (mostly helps, I was thirsty as hell because of the DEAD HEAT 😣). I got a new notebook from one of the shops, and I hopefully will use it for more arts and fanarts ^^

I went to see the Orca Show (the killer whales), and I got COMPLETELY soaked after it slapped it's tail on the water. I NEEDED the coolness to keep me cool in the dead heat, I had to thank the orca for giving us th coolness of the water we need XD

And we did kinda see the fireworks, we were going to miss it, but we saw it while we are waiting for the water ride, the Infinity Falls, until they were in technical difficulties ^^;. That ride, we were COMPLETELY SOAKED, I thought it would be like Splash Mountain from Disney World ^^ My heart was pounding in my chest really fast while getting on the rides XD But there is one time back in October 2018 when I went to Universal Resort with my fam, we went to the Hollywood Rock n Roll (I don't remember what the ride was actually called, but I could be right, maybe XD), and I was completely scared to go upside down on the ride. I wasn't even that scared ^^;, but I was scared to go on the Kraken and Maiko at SeaWorld ^_^, but it was kinda fun though ^^ I wasn't gonna go on the Manta, not going to risk another stomach ache again, I was going to at first, but after the Kraken and the Maiko, I wasn't gonna take a chance with the Manta to obtain another motion sickness ^^; It looks like fun, but next time, that'll be the first when we go back to SeaWorld before Christmas ^^

We may redo my hair before we go to school since they are all coming out quick ^^;, bro, it was fun, until we got home around midnight, like 12:30 something. I went straight to bed afterwards ^^ I kinda slept well ^^

It was fun ^^ the beach, waterpark and SeaWorld was fun!!! It turns out we won't be going to Busch Gardens until September ^^;

Alright, enough talking about the vacation, this is the art of coffee and cake, mostly like a French art ^^. Not the best creative title and qoutes in French and translation, but it fits to this art ^^;

What y'all think?

Artwork ©SuperShadowSilver

Used: mechanical or regular costumized designed pencil

#original #original art #traditional art #sketch #coffee #cake #coffee and cake #french #european