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random-fandom1 · 3 years

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Lights were blaring, music blasting, sweaty bodies grinding against eachother. A hand touches Peter waist, lips attach themselves to his neck. A man, his name is James? What a strange name. A hot name. A perfect name for such a hot man. Moans escape him. Lips continue to assault his neck, a hand pulls him towards the exit

"Is this okay?"

That voice. If you could fall in love with voices, Peter would be walking down the aisle.

"yes"

8 years later

“Olly James Parker! Hurry up, you don't want to be late for your aunts! You know what MJ did last time.” Peter shudders remembering about how MJ purposely put sand in his salad the last time they were late. The quick patter of soft feet can be heard from the landing upstairs and suddenly a small boy dressed in overalls appears at the top of the stairs, a mop of brown curls covering his left eye.

"Where are we going daddy? Are we going to that fancy place Auntie Shuri took us last week? I didn't like that place, the big red things had strange eyes and the plates. They were, they were too big," The boy made huge over the top circles with his arms. Peter had to agree though, the plates were bloody huge, "I like the cafe Auntie MJ takes us too. I like Kath. She's nice. The pink doughnuts are my favourite" Peter listened to his son rant on about how pink doughnuts are his favourite from Cafe Asgard for about 5 minutes before speaking up.

"There's no need to worry babe, Auntie MJ is picking the place I think. Shuri and MJ had bet on who stole more of the others clothes, turns out it was Shuri and then Shuri, being the competitive bitch she is decided to try and seduce -" Realising he was wandering off appropriate topics for a 7 year old, and that he'd slipped up twice in that story. He looks down to realise he's probably safe as the boy is still going on about how the sprinkles are the right amount of hard. "Go get your shoes on bud"

"Ok" and with that Olly ran down the hall, curls bouncing with every step.

Peter couldn't help but admire his son. About how he was an exact copy of him, from the hair to the freckles scattered across his body. Olly carried his and his dad's intelligence and needed to figure out how stuff works. He was a total clone. Well, almost. He had his eyes. Those beautiful steel blue eyes, the ones that looked at him with so much passion that night. Peter cried when Olly opened his eyes for the first time, realising that he's going to have to be reminded of the man he fell in love with, the man who left him alone and pregnant in his bed, everyday for the rest of his life. He's going to be reminded of James.

Peter is pulled out of his thoughts by a small hand tugging his jacket.

"Come on daddy, I hear a horn honking outside. I don't want Aunties MJ & Shuri to be mad at me" Olly says, looking at his father with huge eyes, genuinely scared of angering his impatient aunts. Resisting the urge to coo, He crouches down in front of his son and wraps him in a hug.

"Oh buddy, they'd never be mad at you...me though, that's a different story. So on that note, chop chop, I'm quite fond of my head" Peter stands up from his crouched position, takes Olly's hand and walks out the front door

"-and the dinosaur was big and green with spik-"

"Ok Olls, I think that's enough of that story. Why don't we head inside" Peter said, holding a tight smile on his face. He unbuckled Olly and headed inside, followed closely by MJ and Shuri. MJ instantly headed towards their usual table beside the window while Shuri made her way into the queue where she instantly started talking to a brown haired man. 'Must be a friend from work' Peter thought. He crouched down to Olly’s level, "Why don't you go get a table with Auntie MJ and Auntie Shuri and I will order the food? You want a pink doughnut and a strawberry and banana milkshake, right?" Olly nodded and ran off towards MJ.

Peter took a moment to think about how he got to this very moment, about how he ended up having Olly. He thought back to the morning after. He woke up alone. James just slept with him, got up early in the morning and left without a word. Peter had to show himself out of his house. There was no note, no contact number, no nothing. All there was was a growing fetus and Peter who couldn't get the man with steel blue eyes and godlike voice out of his head. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with Peter so in return, Peter decided that he didn't need him. That he can raise Olly by himself without another person. It helped that he had a big family and money was never an issue, seeing as his dad owns the biggest tech company in the world and his pops is a captain in the army. Sure he thought about going back to the flat, seeing if James felt the same way about him as he did. He wondered if Bucky would raise Olly with him, if they could be a family. He's shaken from his thoughts by his phone binging in his pocket.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he sees a message from his pops.

‘hey pete, do you know how to activate that protocol you used to wake us up with? Monster ear or something? dads fell asleep in his locked lab again. thanks, have a good day petey. love you x’

Peter lets out a chuckle when he reads the message. Trust his dad to forget to unlock the lab door. He starts to make his way over to where Shuri is holding their place in the line, typing back a reply to his pops.

“-and then glenn tried to make me take out her copies, like who does she think i am - oh, Pete there you are. I thought you got lost on your way over. Here meet my boss, Bucky, he knows all about yo - get off your phone it's rude” Shuri says, getting annoyed by his ignorance.

“Yeah, yeah. My pops is asking about commands again. I swear he never stops” he says, putting his phone into his back pocket and looking at Shuri. Peter was yet to look at the man in front of him, too busy giving Shuri a death glare.

“It's a pleasure to meet you Peter, Shuris told me a lot about you. She tells me almost daily about your latest mix up, I must say you have a lot.”

Peter freezes

Time stops

It's that voice, the voice he fell in love with. That deep and gruff voice with the right amount of softness on the edges. It's like music, the voice of angels.

He slowly turns his head to look at the man in front of him, watches as his eyes widen upon getting a full view of his face, realising washing over him.

Everything around them become background noise

The only people left in the cosy cafe are them, scrap that actually, the only people in the whole world are them.

They must be zoned out for a while because suddenly Shuris snapping her fingers in between them. Peter's cheeks flush a dark scarlet and he closes his mouth which must have fallen open.

“Peter, you have no idea how much I - fuck, Ive thought about this moment for so long, and I - god, I dont know what to say” Peters eyes snap back up to meet those eyes, those pools of steel blue. They haven't left his mind for years, haunted him around any corner he tried to turn.

Thats when he realised, he was in love with him. He loved James, he hasn't seen him for years, met him once before that, but fuck, he loved him.

“I-uh - I…”

“Daddy, whos this? His eyes look like mine. Isn’t that funny?” Olly comes over and stands next to his father, looking up at, well, his other father. Bucky looks down at Olly, then back up to Peter, then back down to Olly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, probably trying to figure out who this is, probably piecing it together slowly. Peter gulps and then looks down at Olly.

“Olly, I told you to stay with Auntie MJ. You know what happened last ti -” Peters cut off for what feels like the 50th time today.

“How old are you kid?” His voice is shaking

“Don’t answer that”

“Whos your other daddy?”

“Don't answer that either, go back to Aun-”

“Answer me, how old are you kid?”

Olly is slightly hiding behind Shuris leg, not quite sure what to do.

“You can’t just go around asking people you've slept with and then left alone to clean up the pieces with not even a contact number or note or anything’s kids how old they are, what is wrong with you?!”

Something flashes across Buckys face, regret and hurt, but they quickly go back to rage. Steel blue eyes turning into a stormy grey, like a storm at sea.

“I can if they may be my child!”

“That doesn't make it right!”

“For god's sake, stop being so difficult-”

“I’m being difficult? Do you hear yours-”

“I do funnily enough -”

They’re interrupted by a small voice

“Im almost eight…”

Both they’re heads snap round, looking at the source of the voice. There they see Olly holding up 8 fingers. Tears well up in James’ eyes, the final piece clicking into the jigsaw

“Hes my son..” Its barely above a whisper. Peter lets out a defeated sigh

“Yeah, he's your son”

Slowly James crouches down to Olly's level. Olly looks him over, analyses him as if he's trying to figure out what's inside this man. It's scary that Bucky has the exact same look on his face. Eyebrows furrowed, steel eyes cloudy. It makes Peter's heart let out small flutters.

“Hey there kiddo, Im, well im your papa.” Olly takes a second to process what's just been said before running into his papas arms. Tears are streaming down his face. Both their faces. Scrap that, tears are running down most of the people in the cafe’s faces.

“I've always wanted a papa, daddy always used to say that you went on a mission to space and that its taking a while. But he always said you’ll be back.”

“Did he now?” Bucky looks into his eyes and all is said in that look.

He was going to do whatever it takes to be a part of this family, to be with the man he loves and their son.

And Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

“Whats a bitch papa?”

Shuri cackles, an old lady gasps and Bucky's eyes widen comically

fuck.

#peter parker #winterspider #bucky barnes #tony stark #avengers #superfamily #steve rogers #marvel #stony #cute #shuri #papa #sad #sadbeautifultragic

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btxtreads · 4 years

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📼 d r a m a 📼

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW

↳ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader

↳ word count: 1.7k words

↳ rating: PG

↳ genre: fluff, this is so cheesy and cliche hhhhhh but its meant to be like that, once again i want beomgyu and taehyun to be my friends

a/n: anon from a few hours ago was right but also askjdsajkshajsa this is so cheesy??????????? :((((((((((((((((( im so adsjnjadsjhsadhjsad

Beomgyu’s knuckles pounded on the door, screaming.

Beside him stood Taehyun, his hands in his pockets and eyes incredulously boring onto his best friend with confusion.

Beomgyu continued screaming, his hand still rapping on the door.

“Beomgyu, shut up!”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re still alive,” Beomgyu replied, stopping his screaming. “Y/N, come out and eat lunch with us!”

Behind Taehyun and Beomgyu was one of the boys’ maids, dusting the photo frames in hallway.

Taehyun shot an apologetic look at the older woman, who only smiled.

If the woman was weirded out, it wasn’t apparent as she continued on her way.

Taehyun looked back at Beomgyu who started screaming again, knocking on the door.

His phone pinged with a text.

Choi Soobin: hi taehyun, im on my way. can you keep beomgyu occupied for a while?

Taehyun cleared his throat.

“Hey, gyuu?”

Beomgyu stopped, turning back to him.

“What’s up?”

“Maybe she’ll come out if we make her favorite food ourselves?” Taehyun suggested, wincing when she remembered how useless both of them were at cooking.

That’s why the only home-cooked food they ate was Y/N’s and made by Beomgyu’s on-call chef.

Despite this, Beomgyu gasped.

“Yes, let’s make Y/N’s favorite food!” Beomgyu nodded enthusiastically, knocking on the door once more. “Taehyun and I will make Carbonara for you!”

Taehyun winced as he was dragged to the kitchens, pulling his phone out to send a quick text.

Taehyun: beomgyu and i are going to be in the kitchens. i told the guards you were coming.

Choi Soobin: thank you. im here.

Y/N laid face-down on the bed, snapping up when she hear Beomgyu scream something concerning.

“Taehyun and I will make Carbonara for you!”

This was followed by a loud pitter-patter of footsteps fading away.

“Wait, no!”

Y/N gasped, falling off the bed.

Beomgyu and Taehyun can’t cook to save their lives.

“Guys, you’ll burn the house down!” Y/N squeaked from her position on the ground.

As soon as she sat up, she heard loud tapping on her window.

She turned to see pebbles hitting her window, which faced the garden.

“Who the hell—“ Y/N muttered under her breath, nearing the window to see a figure downstairs.

“Soobin?”

The said boy poked his tongue out as he picked up pebbles from the ground, cradling it in his arms and aiming to shoot it towards the window.

Y/N glared as she opened her window, making the boy gasp and smile.

“Y/N!”

“What the fuck are you doing to this window, you delinquent?”

Despite her harsh tone and words, Soobin shot her a bright smile.

“I found you.”

Y/N froze, his words sounding familiar.

Her grip tightened on the window sill, training her eyes up to the sky.

Soobin’s eyes softened as he gazed at the girl, who still looked perfect in his eyes.

She was decked in a loose white sweater that he recognized as Beomgyu’s, her hair was down in waves and her face bare of any make-up.

The girl ran a hand through her hair, clearing her throat as she looked back at the boy.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “How did you find me?”

Soobin only shrugged, smiling.

“Does Beomgyu even know you’re here?”

He shook his head no.

“Please don’t tell him,”

Y/N pursed her lips, looking down.

“Soobin, you should go,”

Once again, he shook his head no and looked around.

“Ah, there’s no tree,” Soobin sighed, looking back up at the girl. “Can you come down?”

Y/N frowned, looking at the boy with a sigh.

“Y/N,” he called, looking at the girl with pleading eyes. “Please. Come down.”

The girl bit her lip and closed her window sill.

“Y/N?” Beomgyu gasped as Y/N passed by the kitchen on her way to the living room.

She shot him a quick look, opening the door to exit the house.

Taehyun grasped Beomgyu’s arm as he made a move to follow her, shaking his head and dragging him up the second floor.

Y/N slowly made her way to the garden, to see Soobin.

He stood there, perfect and proper—not a single strand of hair out of place.

He smiled, stretching a bouquet of white roses towards her.

“I remembered how you told me that you found white roses prettier than red ones,” Soobin explained as Y/N gingerly took the bouquet.

“Soobin, look,” Y/N sighed. “I understand, I got the message,”

“Huh?” Soobin frowned.

Y/N looked back up at him.

“You don’t have to apologize, or let me down properly. I understood very well,” Y/N smiled sadly and turned to leave. “Thank you for trying to apologize, anyway.”

Soobin sighed, looking up at the sky and pocketing his hands.

He cleared his throat.

“Can you imagine? What would happen if we could have any dream?”

Y/N stopped in her tracks.

Soobin’s soft voice continued.

“I wish this moment was ours to own it, and that it would never leave,”

Y/N slowly turned, looking back at the boy.

He smiled softly at her, fidgeting in his place.

“Then I would thank that star that made our wish come true,”

Y/N stayed still as Soobin made his way closer, his hand reaching out to take hers.

She was dead silent, making Soobin sigh in nervousness before continuing.

“Cause he knows that where you are is where I should be, too,”

Y/N looked at his eyes, her eyebrows furrowed as she observed him.

Suddenly, the sprinklers and the spotlights opened.

The speakers Beomgyu installed in the gardens, which Y/N always scolded him for because it was unnecessary, found its purpose as it blasted music that Soobin sang along to.

“Right Here, Right Now,”

Soobin’s hand found Y/N’s chin, lifting it up as water rained down on them.

He smiled delicately as tears filled Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m looking at you, and my heart loves the view.

Cause you mean everything.”

Y/N softly laughed in embarrassment, wiping tears and the raining water off her face.

“This is so cheesy,” She commented as Soobin smiled and continued.

“Right here, I promise you somehow,”

Soobin leaned his forehead on hers and intertwined their hands, closing his eyes.

“That tomorrow can wait for some other day to be,

But right now, there’s you and me,”

He opened his eyes, and smiled at Y/N as the music continued.

“I’m not gonna sing,” Y/N said. “I’m still mad at you,”

“I know,” Soobin said, moving his hands to her waist. “and I’m sorry,”

Y/N lowered her eyes.

“Chaewon, she’s—“

“Sure, I love her, but not like you think,” Soobin said, kissing her wet hair as the sprinklers continued to soak them. “Y/N, it’s you. I’m in love with you,”

Y/N slowly pulled away and looked back up at Soobin.

“Huh?”

He smiled delicately, looking down at the girl of his dreams.

“I told her that,” Soobin said, tucking a lock of wet hair behind her ear. “that I’m in love with you. That I’m so in love with you that losing you means losing my mind,”

Y/N blinked in surprise.

“Y/N, you were the best thing has ever happened to me,” Soobin explained. “And if you don’t believe me, I’d gladly show you everything me and Chaewon talked about. I would do anything you want to make it up to you, just—please,”

Y/N bit her lip as Soobin tightened his grip on her.

“Please, just don’t leave me alone,” Soobin whispered.

“Soobin,” Y/N started as Soobin looked down at her, loving eyes soft and anxious.

It was almost like he was gearing up for rejection.

Y/N reached her hands up to run through his hair and cup his face.

“The time I spent away from you made me lose my shit and realize that I was way worse without you than I was without her,” Soobin confessed. “I can’t forgive myself if I didn’t try, Y/N. You were something I can’t give up,”

Y/N chuckled through the newly formed tears in her eyes.

“You’re so corny,” Y/N commented before pulling him down to meet his lips with hers.

It was almost like the sprinklers rained water harder on them as they kissed.

It was smooth, passionate—no fireworks, not even sparks.

Just Soobin.

She couldn’t feel anything but him as she clutched tighter on Soobin, his hands pulling her closer to him—afraid to let go as if she was going to fade away.

Y/N pulled away and brushed the wet hair sticking to his forehead.

“I love you,”

Soobin laughed, picking her up and twirling her around.

Y/N shrieked in surprise, holding onto his shoulders.

“Soobin, Soobin, what the fuck!” She shrieked as Soobin laughed loudly.

“Fuck,” Soobin muttered as he set her down. “I’m so happy,”

Y/N smiled as he leaned back down to plant another kiss on her lips.

She giggled through the kiss as she reciprocated, Soobin picking her up again to twirl her with their lips connected.

Y/N smiled as he pulled away, forehead still connected to his.

“By the way, how did you pull this off?”

Soobin looked up at the second floor, smiling as he spotted two figures by the window sill.

“Over there,” He pointed.

Y/N turned and gasped.

With narrowed eyes, Beomgyu stood by the window with the sprinklers’ remote in his hands.

Taehyun bounced in his place as he waved a phone—the bright red album cover of High School Musical visibly playing.

Beomgyu mimed gagging, his loud fake vomit sounds audible as Taehyun screamed “You guys are disgusting,” from their spot.

Beomgyu cranked the sprinkler levels higher as Y/N laughed, leaning her head on Soobin’s chest.

Soobin only laughed, clutching her tight to him.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/N pulled away and looked back up at him, her hand brushing his wet hair.

“I thought you’d never ask,”

Soobin smiled, leaning back down and crashing his lips on hers once again—the music still steadily playing at the background alone with Taehyun and Beomgyu’s noises.

Tomorrow can wait,

for some other day to be.

But right now there’s you and me

SAJHDJSDAJKKDHJSKJASDKJSADKJASJKKJASDJHJSAHDHSAJJHADS

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 2

2. i been fronting that it’s just for the summer

Summary: So you’re together, sort of, and it’s great! Everyone seems to be convinced, that’s not the issue. The issue comes when you fly to LA for filming, and you decide to stay with Colson, but the room only has one bed. And the paparazzi crash your first “date”. And he kisses you and your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, which is not supposed to happen because this isn’t a real relationship! But it’s fine. Probably.

A/N: So bare with me, it’s a very long chapter. Also, pretend the Tunnel of Love remix by haroinfather came out before 2018 and not in 2019. Enjoy.

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples @oopsiedoopsie23

----

It feels like you’re braced for impact when you walk into rehearsals the day after you release the video. Douglas has already seen it, of course he has, he messages you minutes after it’s posted.

[Dig Doug: Not gonna say I Told You So, but im glad you’re happy. 🦆🦆]

It gets you to smile, despite your anxiety surrounding the whole situation.

“Now what?” Colson asked after the video was posted, sitting next to you on his bed. The duvet is so soft, and somehow the whole situation is so inherently soft. Maybe it’s that you’re both in hoodies and sweat pants. Maybe it’s that you’d just told the world that you’re dating. His eyes are so blue.

You phone goes off.

His phone goes off.

Both of you have Twitter muted, but even so, it needed to let you both know that you were getting a lot of mentions.

“Now we’re dating,” you say, flipping your phone over, while Colson picks his up, opening Twitter and beginning to scroll through his mentions. Where in the Hell were you meant to go from here.

“Alright, cool; you wanna get pizza or something?” He asks, simple as that, and it’s now you seem to realise that you’ve been so stressed from everything that had been happening that you hadn’t been remembering to feed yourself.

“Honestly, I’d love to.”

The next day, however, it’s the elephant in the room; the others don’t say anything, but everyone, even Douglas to some extent, was wondering how in the hell they had missed your apparent relationship. But it’s not awkward; you and Colson act the same as always, you take notes for Josy, and get coffee, and type away on your laptop.

They break for lunch, and you look up from your work only to see Josy making a beeline for you, an intimidating look of determination written all over her face. Ah, here’s where the interrogation begins. Glancing over your shoulder you see Colson shoot you an amused, if concerned look, glancing to Josy. In response, you shrug; it can’t be helped.

“We need to talk,” Josy tells you, steers you from the room, across the parking lot, into a whole new building, where she paces for about three minutes, unable to look at you, hands basically pulling out her hair, all of which amuses you greatly. When she comes to a stop in front of you, it’s as if you can see the cogs of her brain turning, her fingers steepled in front of her mouth as she tries to order her thoughts.

“You know you’re my favourite assistant in the world and I treasure our friendship, right?” She asks, and you fix her with a fondly exasperated stare.

“Of course, you see fit to remind me every time I bring you coffee -”

“Then why, my little duck, my little goose, apple of my eye, enchilada of my bosom,” she says with an almost poisonous sweetness, looking you directly in the eye, “would you date one of my actors?” And you have to hold back your laughter in the face of her sincere and rather angry confusion.

“Josy, please,” you start, and she already looks like she wants to interrupt, “I like him is all, okay? I won’t be a distraction -” you can already see her trying to protest, but you hold up your hand to stop her, “and he won’t distract me; if anything, it means there’ll be no outside distractions, hopefully.”

“[Y/N] you test me,” Josy sighs deeply, scrubbing at her face, “how long?”

This gives you cause for hesitation, because neither you nor Colson had thought to get your whole story straight the night before. He had ordered room service and you’d just talked about music until you finally went back to your own room. An oversight, sure, but you had been glad to have a plan, and were happy to figure out the details later.

“A few weeks -” when you say this, Josy makes a choked, wheezing noise, and you pause, “since... uh, since he took us around the city at the end of the first week.”

“Does Douglas know?”

“He’s not my handler,” you fire off reflexively, and Josy winces, a little sheepish, “but yes.” You paused. “Now.”

Josy lets the whole conversation slide with some reluctance, and she asks you to get her lunch from the deli a few blocks away. You agree, partially because it’s your job, but mostly because you’re just glad to get out of the building and away from her exasperated, judgmental stares.

He’s corrupting you. It’s what the media thinks. It’s what Josy thinks. And something about the assumption is already starting to get under your skin. But right as you start to get truly annoyed by the subtext she had been blasting you with, you hear your phone chime.

[Colson: am i gonna get The Talk from my AD later on? Ducky: wot Colson: like u no... if you hurt my daughter im gonna hurt you Ducky: Josys not my mom??? shes like 3 years older than me???? Colson: its a joke. chill ducky. everything alright tho? Ducky: told her wed been dating since that night i filmed a few weeks ago Colson: smart. everyone thinks weve been together since then nyways Ducky: you want anything from the deli? Colson: what Ducky: im at the deli. u want a sandwich? Colson: yeh sure. surprise me. maybe chicken idk. webber wants a chocolate milk Ducky: milks bad for vocal cords Colson: he doesnt care 😈]

It makes you laugh. He makes you laugh. It’s as easy as that; you’re still friends, it’s just that you spend more time together, are closer, when you go out for dinner with the cast, he’s invariably beside you. You’re both always on time to rehearsals, and he keeps sending you selfies from costume and makeup tests, and it’s going fine, great even, despite all the nasty DMs you were still receiving. Of course the supportive ones always outweighed the negative, and even the negative didn’t really bother you, because it’s not as if there was a real relationship in jeopardy, so it actually took a lot of weight off your shoulders.

Filming is set to start on location in LA after about a month and a half of rehearsals, and while the first month had primarily been working on scenes, the extra fortnight you’d been there had been almost consistently rehearsing as a band for eight hours a day, six days a week. The day before you’re due to fly off, the whole cast looks exhausted at brunch.

“Pass me the salt,” Colson yawns, half asleep with his head against the window of the cafe.

“It’s right in front of you,” you counter, knocking his knee with yours beneath the table.

“My arms don’t work,” he groaned, but he was smiling now, just a little. You look to the other cast members all enjoying their own respective breakfasts. Daniel’s on voice rest, despite the fact that they’re going to be using recordings of Motley Crue themselves for the actual film, they still want him able to perform covers for when they’re filming; currently he’s nursing a lemon and ginger tea with enough honey to drown a bee. Actually, Colson was the only one out of the four of them not to be drinking tea; both Iwan and Douglas both having ordered a cup with their breakfasts. Iwan was the only one who looked ready for the day, with the rest of them all slumped over in various states of exhaustion.

“Ducky, come on, please?” Colson actually whined, and you rolled your eyes, passing him the salt.

“You’re so needy,” you tell him, but your smile is enough to let him know that you’re joking.

“Why’re you called Duck, if I may ask?” Iwan asks, and you heave a sigh, knowing Douglas was already smiling before you even turn to look at him.

“Because when our parents first brought her home, all she did was follow me around like a duckling,” his tone is all fond, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a side hug despite your indignant noise of protest.

“Adorable,” Iwan grins over the lip of his cup. You just groan, and steal a bite of Douglas’ pancakes, though he doesn’t seem to mind, “have you worked much in the industry?” Iwan’s accent sounds like home, and despite how quiet and bitter he is in character, he’s rather bright and talkative as a person.

“Here and there; I actually spent quite a few of my teenage years as Doug’s assistant when he would be filming in London,” you say with a half-smile, “still a bit of a duck I suppose, but it looks good on my CV. I do odd-jobs on sets here and there back home, have been a runner for a few TV shows, but I don’t really go out of my way to be on camera, you know,” you shrug, before hearing your mistake. Both Colson and Douglas are already laughing, while Daniel and Iwan just seem confused. “Apart from, like, my actual job, you know? Like I’m on camera for YouTube, but not for a real movie or anything.”

“Well you seem very good at your job, we’re glad to have you onboard,” Iwan nods with a surprisingly sincere smile. Beneath the table, Colson’s hand is on your knee, and he gives you a small squeeze.

“I thought your hands didn’t work?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and Douglas almost spits his drink all over Daniel at the implication.

“Excuse me?” His eyes are wide as saucers and Colson’s quickly turning red.

“I said my arms don’t work but damn, call me out why don’t you?” He splutters, raising his hands in the air in mock surrender, with only mild wincing. It’s about now that you realise the assumption that your brother had jumped to.

“His hand was on my knee, Doug, I was trying to make a joke,” you explain, flustered, though Daniel and Iwan on the other side of the booth have collapsed on top of each other with laughter. You, Douglas, and Colson, however, are all equally mortified, and make a point to move so neither of you are touching as you finish your breakfast quickly.

“I just appreciate,” Daniel was still chuckling as you all left the cafe, as was Iwan, “that Doug genuinely thought Colson was getting busy with his sister at brunch, like, right next to him under the table.

“Nah,” Iwan actually laughs, his smile sharp, “they’re just really in character.”

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today we’re flying all the way to sunny L.A, which honestly isn’t that far from Portland, but the production company was nice enough to not make us road trip it.”

The video starts in your hotel room, and follows you as you pack your things, and cuts to a montage set to some royalty-free music, of you heading to the airport, of the cast yawning. Your brother buys you breakfast at a fast-food restaurant in the airport, and you check your bags; a panning shot in the waiting area, of every single member of the cast and crew that are taking this flight on their phones.

“You look cute,” you mutter very quietly to Colson, who’s sitting next to you, scrolling through Twitter with a travel pillow squished up around his neck. He gives you a toothy smile, leans his cheek against the pillow, and winks at the camera.

The hotel you’re staying at is beautiful, all marble pillars in the foyer and beige and cream counters, and it feels like it might be too much. This is where the stars stay, and you? You know you’re absolutely not a star.

“Duck?” And there’s Josy’s voice, hesitant, about to tell you the jig is up, hand you keys to a water stained motel room a few blocks away. When you turn to her, she’s got two separate key cards in her hands.

“Yes, Josy?” You ask sweetly; it’s not her fault, after all, that you’re not a top-billed star.

“So corporate wanted to put you with some of the other crew, they’re staying in a place down the road - it’s really lovely, trust me, and if you want it we can still get you a room - but,” Josy glanced to the cards in her hand, before holding them out, one in each hand, “if you’d like to stay here, both your brother and Colson are happy to share with you.” And at this, your brain stalls, looking at the key cards being offered to you.

“Why didn’t they tell me this?”

“Because they’re already heading up, but they wanted me to let you know that the offer’s there.”

So it seems that in the three minutes that you were mooning over the architecture, and giving the guys their space, since you’d assumed you’d be staying elsewhere, both your brother and your fake boyfriend happened to mention that you’re able to stay with them if you want. Douglas is not a surprise; Colson is.

“How big are the rooms, I don’t want to -” you start, but Josy’s quick to cut you off.

“The size isn’t the matter; they’re big enough rooms, got really comfortable sofas from what I could see, but...”

“But?” You prompt, and Josy gives a smile.

“Of course, it’s all about what you’re comfortable with; you know Doug’s more than happy to take the sofa, I just know you and Colson haven’t been together that long -” And here it all starts to make sense, and you hope the smile you give isn’t nervous as you ask which key is which. You take Colson’s.

The elevator ride up to the cast’s floor has you wracked with nerves, which you think is ridiculous; you can sleep on the sofa, it’s no trouble, and he wouldn’t have offered the room if he hadn’t meant it. So why does the idea of staying in a room with him, with only one bed, have your heart beating so fast? You’d been teasing each other, flirting and being cute together, in front of other people, that was easy, but since the night you’d released the video, you hadn’t really been alone together. You hadn’t needed to be. It seems like all you can think about as you walk down the beige hallway to your room, on auto-pilot as you scan your key card and enter the room.

It’s quiet.

There’s the gentle whistling of wind that comes from the balcony, the overhead sun beating down on the pristine, Hollywood beaches. He sits on the balcony, plush armchair, smoking a joint with his shirt off. Inside, it’s all white walls and gold accents, his suitcase on the bed, already open the contents inside surprisingly neatly folded. There’s a door beside you that you’re pretty sure leads to the bathroom, and the room itself is spacious, with a gorgeous, gray sofa sitting off to one side, and a wall-mounted television on the other. Just for the moment, all the fears and anxieties in your mind vanish at the sight of this pristine serenity.

Quietly, you wheel your own suitcase to the sofa, and pull out your phone.

He’s stunning, like that, his feet up on the coffee table on the balcony, free hand tapping a lazy beat on the arm of his chair. You take a candid photo of him as he exhales smoke, and it catches the sunlight beautifully, with the water out of focus in the background.

“Can I post this?” You ask, and he jumps a little, not having heard you come in, before his concerned expression morphs to a genuine smile when he realises that it’s you. Turning the phone to him, you show him the photo you took, and he lowers his sunglasses to get a proper look at it. After a beat, his gaze flicks to yours.

“’course, it’s a nice photo.”

“You’re very photogenic,” you brush of his compliment with a smile, and he pushes his glasses back up his nose, looking out from the balcony.

“You crashing here?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you respond, and he actually laughs, though the sound is kind.

“Wouldn’t have offered if it was.”

Easy. Like everything else about him, it seemed, this was easy.

You caption the photo ‘the view from my balcony 😍’ and post it on both Twitter, and your Instagram story, tagging him in both, and you set about checking out the room’s facilities. It’s a normal, if fancy hotel room. Little bottles of soaps and shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom, TV with a bunch of standard channels, and a whole ton more that you could pay for if you wanted, it even had a set of cables so you could charge your phone, either side of the bed. The singular bed. Which Colson has clearly already claimed.

Maybe it had been a mistake to not board with your brother.

“I’m getting lunch, you want anything?” You call, needing to get out of your own head for a bit, wanting to explore the city a little. He’s quiet for a moment, then you hear a strained ‘yeah’.

“Gimme a moment, let me put on a shirt and I’ll come with you,” he tells you through a lung full of smoke, putting the joint out in the ash tray provided, tucking the other half in his pocket for later.

“You not gonna vlog this?” He asks, half smiling in the elevator, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Oh, shit, knew I forgot something,” you mutter, and you go to punch in the number of your floor again, but his hand catches yours.

“We’re coming back after, don’t worry about it.”

And, well, you don’t.

It’s easy to talk to him, you swap stories about life in the entertainment industry from two wildly different perspectives, and you find a cute and overpriced restaurant to have lunch in. All the while, you’re so aware of where you are, how there could be any number of people snapping photos of the pair of you. It’s not like you’re being overtly couple-y, you’d only been putting on this ruse for three weeks at this point, but he pays for your lunch.

“Oh, I didn’t realise this was a date,” you admit, a little surprised, a little flustered. He shrugs, eats the last bite of his burger, and smiles.

“Why not? We haven’t had the chance to go on one yet, let’s take it for a test drive. Do they- are boardwalks still a thing? Is a boardwalk carnival still a thing or was that just the nineties?” You’re actually rather taken aback by his suggestion, and can’t help but grin, picking up your mostly empty glass to swirl the ice at the bottom.

“Pretty sure boardwalks are a thing, not sure about carnivals on them, but we can check it out.”

You each finish your drinks and leave, setting off for the waterfront. Feeling bold, you tuck your arm in his, and enjoy the Spring-time sunshine. The boardwalk, as it turns out, is still definitely a thing, as are the kitschy carnival rides along it.

“I feel like a fuckin’ teenager,” Colson mutters under his breath, knowing you’ll hear it, “if we see a couple where they’re both wearing braces, looking like they just got out of school, I’m throwing myself straight into the ocean.” He informs quietly, and you snort at that.

“Not a fan of traditional cute date shit?” You ask, as the pair of you approach the ticket booth.

“Not in the slightest,” Colson admits through his teeth while trying to smile at the attendant. The attendant, who obviously recognizes at least one of you, is doing her best not to look like she’s staring. You each buy a ride pass and head in, and the girl tells you to have a good afternoon, with a nervous sort of excitement.

“This feels like somewhere I’d go with my daughter,” Colson looks doubtfully up at the ferris wheel that sat ahead of you at the end of the pier, looking more than a little perturbed, but his words struck you in a way that you hadn’t expected.

“Have you told her about us?” You asked, and he casts an unreadable glance at you.

“Listen, if we’re going to talk about... stuff like this, let’s at least do it somewhere a little more private?” It seems he, just like you, is acutely aware of how busy the little set of attractions is, and having already been recognized once, it’s almost certainly not going to be the last time today.

The gangly-limbed teenager working the ferris-wheel doesn’t even hide that he’s staring at Colson with hero-worship in his eyes, and he gives you a look over, followed by an approving, rather smug nod, before closing the door of the carriage. It makes your skin crawl.

“Why does everyone get to decide if I’m good enough for you based on my looks?” You hear yourself mutter, but Colson’s slinging his arm around your shoulders as the pair of you are raised steadily into the air.

“Who gives a shit? They’re jealous, and it doesn’t matter because we’re not really together anyways,” he’s got a point, but your expression is still downcast, and there’s a strange sadness settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I suppose.”

Once you’re high enough in the air that no-one from the ground should be able to hear either of you even a little bit, Colson sits back, lets his gaze drift across the horizon.

“I told Cassie about us, told her the truth.” He doesn’t sugar coat it, doesn’t try and explain his way out of it, when instead he looks tense, like he’s read to defend himself. You, however, nod, giving him an understanding smile.

“Of course, she’s your daughter,” you pause, and he finally looks back at you, and you think you see some hint of relief in his eyes, “I never expected for you to lie to her.”

“She’s a good kid,” he assures softly, “got a good head on her shoulders.” And now he’s turning fond, giving your shoulder a squeeze, “fuckin’ who knows where she got it, ‘cos it ain’t me.” Laughing a little, he’s surprised when you answer, voice soft and sincere.

“You’ve gotta give yourself more credit,” you tell him matter-of-factly, “you wouldn’t be half as successful as you are if you didn’t have a good bit of sense.”

“I knew there was a reason I was dating you,” he teases, pulling you in close, but you play along.

“Yeah, it’s that good sense of yours,” you returned, and he gave you a gentle shove. “Am I going to meet her at all?” You ask finally, and Colson gives another shrug.

“Yeah, I mean sure, she wants to come to set, so if you’re around you’re welcome to meet her,” his fingers are drumming lightly against your shoulder, “I should warn you though, she tends to vet any girls I’m getting serious about pretty hard, fake or not.” And yeah, you’re laughter’s a bit disbelieving, and though he sees the humour in it, he doesn’t seem to be joking, “she’s a good judge of character, and I’ll tell you now, I’m mad protective of her, but she’s mad protective of me too.” The thought of it is actually endearing, and you lean into him, letting yourself heave a sigh of contentment, glad to have talked this through.

“This would have been real nice to film,” he muttered, a teasing edge to his voice as the two of you stared out at the glittering ocean.

“Don’t even start,” you gave his ribs a shove, which only made him laugh, the sound warm and easy in the afternoon air, the sun moving slowly to the horizon.

Slowly but surely Colson was warming to the little boardwalk carnival. The two of you play obviously rigged games, and ride the rollercoaster that creaks ominously, and he even convinces you to share some fairy floss. He snaps a picture of you grinning wide and genuine as you offer him the treat, and posts it to Twitter with the caption ‘sweet’.

There’s a Tunnel of Love ride that Colson had adamantly refused to go on at first, but as sunset was drawing closer, he relented.

“I’m not a cliche! I’m not a fucking cliche!” He huffs, sitting beside you with his arms crossed, his legs so long that his knees came up almost comically. You’re filming on your phone for your Instagram story, and will later add at least two heart gifs, but for now you’re just obnoxiously singing the Tunnel of Love remix, thankful that you’re the only two on the ride at the moment.

“You so fucking cute, when I see you, I uwu, can you be my fucking boo? Can you be my sailor moon?” Hearing the smile in your voice, he turns to you, something about his expression softening as he sees the joy written all over your face that the camera can’t see, “and I don't wanna fight, I just wanna treat you right; I was aiming at your heart and I don't wanna say goodbye.”

He just laughs, and shakes his head as the ride takes off, fond adoration written all over his face.

The sun’s setting by the time you’ve ridden all the rides you wanted to, eaten all the candy you could possibly stomach, and failed at enough rigged games that you were about ready to call it quits.

“Hey I didn’t just wanna come here for the carnival shit,” he said, and you’ve got your arm tucked into his again as he steers you both to the edge of the boardwalk, where there was a set of steps down to the beach.

“Under the boardwalk,” you nod knowingly, which he parrots back with a smile. Beneath the boardwalk there was a gaggle of youth, looking slightly older than teenagers, some still in uniforms from boardwalk rides, some smoking, most looking intimidating, but when Colson asks them for a light, they seem to get much less hostile.

“Hey are you MGK?” One asks, and when Colson lights the half a joint he had from earlier, he nods. “Sick.” The kid nods sagely, before his gaze turns on you. “And you’re that Booth chick, aren’t you? I’ve seen you on Twitter.” It’s not hostile, it’s genuinely curious.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Eddie, that’s [Y/N], do you live under a rock?” One of the girls pipes up, decked out in black, with a thick piercing through her septum, and an intimidating amount of eyeliner. The boy, Eddie, flushes scarlet, and snaps that not everyone watches the same shit as her. “I’m Samara,” the girl offers with a grin, offering her hand to you, which you shake, more than a little pleased with their various reactions.

“I heard yous was boinking -” a third girl interrupts, wearing a boardwalk uniform and hitting a vape pen pretty hard.

“Emma!” More than one of them shout, though Samara is the loudest.

“Is boinking still the term?” Colson snorts, taking it all in stride, though he’s got an arm around you now, “Jesus fuck I feel ancient.”

“You are -” Emma interrupts, much to the rest of the group’s chagrin, but Colson just laughs.

“I’m twenty-seven you fucker!” He crows, and Emma cracks a smile, and takes another hit off of her vape pen. “Whatever,” he shrugs, “just tryin’ to show my girl everything LA has to offer.”

“So you come under the boardwalk?” Eddie asks, with a skepticism that made you all flustered at his insinuations.

“Can you blame us for wanting a bit of privacy?” Colson smirks, to which the group of youths all collectively ‘ooh’ at, and he gives your hip a squeeze.

“Try the one a quarter of a mile that way,” Samara points further down the beach, “less carnival, less people.” She winks, before adding, surprisingly hopefully, “but could we get like, a photo or something first?”

Of course you both agree, and among the group photos, you learn that they’re all working around town during winter break for college. Samara specifically asks for a photo with you, where she plants a kiss on your cheek, looking a little flustered herself, muttering a quiet thanks. You follow her back on Instagram, and she gives you this starry-eyed look.

“She’s got a crush on you,” Colson snickers as the two of you head down the beach, well and truly out of earshot of the others, and you smile, finally looking up from your phone, a little endeared at the young woman’s antics.

“Jealous?” You ask, loftily, and you expect him to laugh, but he goes quiet. When you turn to him, he’s regarding you with amusement, and something else you can’t quite identify. “Colson?” And you slow, now near enough to the next section of the boardwalk. As promised, it was rather secluded.

After a beat, he leans in and kisses you, soft and unexpected, but his lips fit against yours like you were made for each other. Leaning into him, you wrap your arms around him, letting him pull you close. Not exactly sure what triggered this, you’re just happy to lean into it, enjoying the moment. And then he’s pulling back, forehead resting against yours.

“You see the guy to our left who’s just left the group of kids under the boardwalk? Hawaiian shirt and expensive camera?” He asks quietly, and you glance out of the corner of eye, only to spot the exact person he’s talking about, you make a quiet noise of confirmation, and you keep up the ruse, hand coming up to cup his jaw, butterflies going ballistic in your stomach despite now knowing that it was obviously for show, “been following us for the past hour.”

“Fucking paps,” you hiss, but before your expression can sour, he kisses you again, gives you a squeeze, as if to remind you to put on a show of not noticing him. Much to your surprise, he bites gently at your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet but pleased noise that neither of you had expected, and when he leans back, he looks both surprised and kind of into it, what’s more unexpected is that the exact same expression is written all over your face too.

“Back to the boardwalk, uber back to the hotel?” You ask, resolutely not talking about what had happened, but still smiling and all up in his personal space.

“Love it, let’s get out of here,” and he takes your hand, and leads you back to the safety of the street. It’s the first time the two of you had kissed, not that you’d realised it in the morning, but it was good, you reflect, it felt like it made sense. If you’re a little more giddy than you probably should be on the way back, Colson doesn’t seem to notice, in fact, he’s grinning too, humming to himself.

There’s two posts, one right after the other on Samara’s Instagram story when you check it that night, after having briefly seen it in the uber on the way back to the hotel.

The first is a video captioned [gross thats my mom and dad] The video was pixelated as hell, and she hadn’t tagged either you or Colson, but you knew it was the two of you, wrapped up in each other, half a mile down the beach. In the background, her friends are arguing about something much closer, though one voice cuts through louder than the rest.

“Hey, Hawaiian shirt hipster paparazzi fuck! Yeah you! Give ‘em some fucking privacy!” And as the voice, who you think is Emma, shouts, Samara turns to focus the camera on the paparazzi Colson had spotted earlier, still incredibly zoomed in, capturing his sheepish, angry expression in all it’s rather pixelated glory.

“Fuck you kids!” He shouts back. Someone throws a can at him.

“Piss off!” Samara shouts, “we know you’re not taking photos of seagulls, cunt!” He goes to respond, but the group just starts chucking things at him. In the background, you can see yourself and Colson heading back up to street level, oblivious to what was going on.

The second post is a screenshot of a set of DMs between yourself and Samara.

@yourinstagramhandle mentioned you in their story

6:28pm

@yourinstagramhandle responded 😍 to your story @yourinstagramhandle: god i fucking love you guys, it was so great to meet you @unholy-samara-tin: 😅😅😅 it was the right thing to do lmao no stress he was a creepy fucker

It’s captioned [HOLY SHIT I’VE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN].

You get dinner with Douglas and tell him about your day, and he gives you this sweet, if a little smug smile.

“You seem very happy.” He says, knowingly.

“I am, it was a good day!” You tell him, and he hums, but won’t say anything else on the matter. The conversation is taken up mostly by excitement regarding the makeup and costume fittings that they have over the next week and a half before filming starts, and then it’s back to your own rooms. At your door, Douglas calls out to you, three rooms away.

“It’s strange to see you so grown up, duckling,” he hasn’t called you that in so long, not since you were children, even your mother had abandoned that nickname for the mildly less embarrassing ‘Duck’ in the past few years, and while it warmed your heart, you couldn’t help but tense in anticipation for some sort of gentle, sibling embarrassment, probably to do with you sharing a room with your ‘boyfriend’.

“And?”

“And nothing,” he shrugged, “never thought you’d become cool is all, a star in your own right, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m cool, would you like me to give you some pointers?” You asked sweetly, and Douglas couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I walked into that one, didn’t I? Anyways, have a good rest of your night, Colson and Dan have gone out drinking.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you tell him, and the two of you finally go into your separate bedrooms. He’s right, of course, there’s clothes strewn all over the bed, and the shower’s been recently used, and the whole little place has a warm, clean smell, like the last mist of some spiced cologne was still lingering in the air. The only light on is one of the bedside lights, and the lights of the city outside twinkle brightly, though you can’t see many stars for the light pollution. You crack the screen door to the balcony open, and shiver a little, though you tell yourself it’s from the cold, and not because the rather comforting and clean smells were quickly dissipating.

You are alone when you try to fall asleep on the plush but desperately uncomfortable sofa, alone and struggling to pass out with the bedside light still on, not wanting Colson to have to stumble around in the dark when he gets back. You spend almost a full hour on your phone blocking people who send you nasty DMs, and responding to a few kind ones, and you post a photo of the roof just captioned ‘cant sleep’.

It’s just gone one when the door clicks open, and Colson steps in, pretty well coordinated, and trying to keep quiet. But then there’s you, staring back at him in the lamp light.

“Hey.”

Awkward silence.

“Why are you on the sofa?” He asks, hauling his bag from the bed, shoving his loose clothes in haphazardly, before patting down his pockets. “Sorry if I woke you,” it’s almost an afterthought, and he pulls out a box of cigarettes.

“You didn’t,” you tell him with a yawn that says otherwise, but you power through it, “and I didn’t want to intrude.”

He casts a dubious glance at how you’re angled on the sofa, but doesn’t say anything, and opens the sliding door wider to sit on the porch and have his cigarette. Without even hesitating, you join him, and your spine thanks you the moment you stand.

“Nice night?” You ask, sitting out on the balcony with him.

“Nice night,” he agrees, adding, “nice day all around.” And something about it makes your heart flutter. “You know you can take the bed; I’d rather sleep on the floor than have you get scoliosis.”

“I don’t think that’s how scoliosis works,” you say with a huff of laughter, but he just hums, “and you don’t need to do that, I’m fine,” you try to insist.

“You know you’re welcome to just share the bed, it’s fucking massive, I feel like I’ll get lost in it,” he actually yawns, takes another drag of his cigarette.

“So you want me to, what, ground you somehow?”

“I just wanna know that if I roll over in the night and there’s something solid there, that it’s your arm and not like, the lightpost in fuckin’ Narnia,” he tells you, and breathes out a lung full of smoke. You watch it hang in the air, pale and silver in the light of the moon.

“We’re gonna be in the tabloids tomorrow,” you tell him quietly.

“No-one reads tabloids anymore, we’re gonna be on like, those snapchat news things,” he says, and laughs but it doesn’t sound very amused. “Have you been getting less shit?”

“Actually,” you consider, “yeah, most of your fans are mad supportive when you ask them to be. What about you?”

“Your fans are cute, you know that? I was scrolling through twitter and I saw a whole bunch of photos of us like, photoshopped together,” he paused to chuckle, “some had flower crowns.” You can hear the smile in his words, and he seems quite enamored by the phenomenon. It’s a nice moment; he’s drunk and a little high and you’re exhausted, and you fall into bed like it’s a sitcom.

“Tell your spine I said ‘you’re fucking welcome’,” he tells you, and it’s so absurd that you laugh, even as you pull the covers up over you and snuggle in, comfortable as all hell, before turning the light off.

Then, there’s movement, and a loud ‘thwap’ as Colson’s hand comes to knock your shoulder, landing on top of the duvet.

“Narnia?” He asks, and you give a small smile in the dark.

“Just me.”

You wake in the morning to the sound of Colson’s alarm, or more accurately, his groaning at his alarm. And swearing. And muttered ‘fucking makeup tests’.

He’s dragging himself into the shower while you relish your days off, nose and eyes peaking out from the covers when he comes out of the shower wrapped in a towel. The two of you make direct eye contact before you mutter a flustered apology and flip away from him, though he doesn’t seem to know how to react, just quietly getting dressed. The rest of his morning routine passes mostly in silence, before you hear him open the door.

“If you wanna get like, lunch or dinner or something, lemme know, or I’ll let you know if the boys are organising something,” he tells you, and you call out a sleepy thanks in response. The door closes. Silence. You could go back to sleep, but you’re curious about the turn around time for paparazzi media, and you were not disappointed.

MTV’s snapchat story posted “MGK and New Boo [Y/N] Booth Caught Getting Steamy Under the Boardwalk” the headline.

The self-proclaimed ‘Rap Devil’ Machine Gun Kelly, best known for his album bloom, has managed to find himself locking lips with YouTube’s darling [Y/N] Booth, though you may know her best as the vlogger, and entertainment industry insider, DuckDuckBooth.

It seems new media’s hottest couple have finally landed in LA after their surprising hookup in Louisiana, set to continue working on some mysterious project that they keep hinting at, and they seem to still be going strong!

The pair were caught after a cute date along the Hollywood seaside -

[And here they’d entered your Instagram story, from the Tunnel of Love, as well as Colson’s Twitter picture of you with the fairy floss.]

- after meeting a group of fans, they found somewhere a little more private to get a little bit romantic in a way that 90s kids truly will appreciate; making out under a boardwalk. It feels like it should be ripped straight from a John Hughes movie set in Hollywood.

However unlikely this pair may be, you can’t deny that they’re cute together.

[And here’s those traitorous, and almost painfully HD photos of yourself and Colson, wrapped up in each other, that the paparazzi had taken the day before, though with the legs of the boardwalk, as well as the ocean and the sunset as your backdrop, the photos themselves are surprisingly stunning.]

“Fucking paps,” you mutter under your breath, and screenshot the photo anyways. If it’s your lock screen, well, it’s what any real girlfriend would do, right?

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #douglas booth #douglas booth & reader #The Dirt #the dirt imagine #the dirt cast #the angry lizard writes #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Playing Pretend (2)

Requested by: @calkesttiss | Prompt:

Hi! I just watched isi & ossi (rich girl and poor boxer boy AH) on netflix and now i cant stop thinking about cal and fake dating. Do with that what you will😂

Cal Kestis x Reader

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The doors of your closet flung open. You rummaged through the glamorous, glittery, expensive dresses hanging on the rack and felt for the compartment in the back of the cabinet.

In it were the clothes that you really liked. They were simple yet comfortable, tailored for mobility, and that you pull off black so well. It was also the perfect camouflage when you’re out on the streets. Standing out in a crowd is the last thing you want to do.

“I think it’s a great night for a city stroll,” you tell yourself.

You have made an entire escape route from your room to the outside world. The Torvel Manor’s grandeur in size was exploited by none other than you—studying and memorizing the blind spots where the security cameras and guards are absent greatly helped, knowing which direction from the manor led to where, and paths that you have carved over the years.

When you got farther away from the manor, you headed to the direction of the downtown area—where the least “elite” resided. You were simply thankful that no one recognizes you.

Striding through these alleys and annexes, your legs move on their own whenever you come to find a bar to frequent in. One of your favorites was the Tipsy Taun-Taun. You’ve been there many times, you’re practically a regular.

“[Y/N]!!” the bartender, a male Balosar, hollered to greet you upon your entrance.

You greet back with a cool, casual voice.

Music set with a heavy bass blasted through as soon as the door swings open. You made your way into the bar and ordered a glass of Merenzane Gold—your usual. As the amber-colored liquid slithered down to your gut, you savored the spice that lingered at the walls of your throat.

“Another,” you told him, slightly pushing the glass toward his direction.

“Any more than two and that means you got a family problem there, shrimp boat,” his chuckle outweighed his concern.

“Well, you might be right about that,” you smacked your lips and nudged the glass closer to him. “Another.”

The barkeeper didn’t argue and poured you another.

“Was it Mommy or Daddy this time?”

You’ve finished your drink before he could anticipate your answer. This was your third now.

“A little bit of both,” you sarcastically answered.

Looking around the bar, a redhead about your age hunching over the table caught your eye—he had his back turned to your direction, yet he was subtly looking around as if searching for or looking out from somebody. In all your years in frequenting this pub, you could know who comes in here regularly and who doesn’t.

“Who’s he?” you gestured at the redhead, pointing at him with a nod.

“Nah, dunno ‘im. Prolly just some kid that ended up here,”

“You mean, this is the first time he’s here?”

The barkeeper shrugged and then busied himself with cleaning glasses. You kept your eye on the redhead. When he looked your way, your eyes briefly met, it stayed that way for a few minutes before you casually averted your eyes from him to the stage while sipping on your drink.

The Balosar received a generous payment from your pocket as you proceeded to leave the pub. Shortly after you left, some of the patrons took notice of you—they left the bar and followed you from a less suspicious distance. The redhead sensed the trouble and proceeded to tail you altogether.

The route from the pub that leads out to one of your usual hunting grounds was a maze of dark alleys and unoccupied residential blocks—these were the townhouses that were too expensive for the common folk who wanted a good standard of living, something that you urged your father to develop a reform bill on.

Much later, as you get deeper and deeper into the intricate network of alleys, there was a feeling that loomed heavily over you. You know you were being watched and followed, you hated it; the one cardinal rule is to not look back over your shoulder, otherwise you’ve already started a fight before you could even pick one.

The sinister, disembodied pair of laughter echoed in the hollow walls of the empty slums. The haze have begun to seep in. You continue to walk, simultaneously looking around the buildings in search for another way above the ground.

The laughs become louder and louder. You felt that whoever following you was getting closer. You were running out of ground and hiding places.

“Come here, little chicky-chick,”

“We just wanna talk,”

“Are you lost, honeypie?”

They hollered. Continuing to follow you as they do so. Both of them, whoever they were, cast a long shadow in what little light the lampposts shed in the streets. The panic in your heart was getting too strong for you to suppress, you wanted to fight them but you don’t have the capacity—your fighting skills are amateurish, and they could kill you in a flash if they choose. You wonder if the DL-44 blaster buckled around your waist underneath your jacket would be enough defense.

Can’t hurt to try. You tell yourself mentally.

“Hey!” one of them bellowed.

“We’re talkin’ to you!” the other followed suit.

At the end of their path, they ended up following a phantom… until you fell from above—you were perched on one of the metal emergency exit stairs of the abandoned apartments—and stunned one of them as his forehead hit the cold, damp concrete.

“You little bitch, I’ll get ya!!” the companion growled, pulling out a blaster from his belt holster.

He opened fire the second he clicked the safety, though you were quick to dodge and take cover. Meanwhile, the young redhead who followed the three of you heard the blaster fire. He immediately bolted to the direction where the noise came from; acting on pure instinct, he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt when the sound of the commotion became more apparent.

The redhead arrived at the scene. He saw one of the muggers downed but still moving, he saw the companion and you volleying blaster fire with another.

“Not if I get you first!” the young boy cried.

It drew everybody’s attention—including the nearly-conscious mugger. The volley of blaster fire ceased. The redhead that you found in the pub is standing at the other end of the alley, with an unusual weapon in hand: a glowing beam of blue light in a shining hilt.

Your eyes widened as you recognized the weapon. You’ve heard the stories, you’ve read the books that depicted them in tales and history. You know what this boy is.

You were quick to wake from your awe-stricken state. This sudden break in action was seen as an opportunity. You jumped on the second mugger you were trading shots with and disarmed him—a good sliding kick and a hard elbow to the gut did the trick. When his companion got back on his feet, he set his sights on the redhead; this lumbering mugger charged towards the ginger like an angry Reek but the kid was quick to evade him. The next thing you know, he was standing by your side with the two muggers facing each of you.

“You got something to fight with?” he asked.

“Yeah,”

“Good. Use it,”

Without another word to one another, both of you lunged at the enemy. The redhead with his lightsaber and you with your fists and kicks. At this point, you were thankful that you know something—albeit sloppy—than nothing at all.

These lugs were next to nothing against you and the redheaded boy. Both of you were nimble and quick with your attacks. The fight didn’t last long as you were able to knock them out cold, their bodies fell cold at your feet.

You turn your face to the boy, he looked back you—gasping for air, cold beads of sweat dotting his temples, and a failing grip on his weapon’s hilt.

“Come on, we gotta bail before they wake,” you beckoned.

“Lead the way,”

You figured that he was athletic enough to keep up with you in scaling buildings. You ended up on the roof of the apartment next door. Taking shelter in a rooftop’s tool shed, you fell to the floor and slumped your back against one of the ventilation fans.

“Thanks for back there,”

“Happy to help,” he huffed.

“What’s your name?”

“Cal. Cal Kestis,”

You extended your hand as you said your name.

Cal finally had enough breath to hold a conversation, “Where’d you learn how to fight like that?”

“I had a pretty great mentor,”

“I see,”

The conversation thrived with your questions to each other. Albeit it was only the basic and casual ones, it was nice to have someone covering for you—even if they were total strangers.

“Why’d you help me?” you bring up.

“Because I choose to, ‘cause I want to,”

“Not because I can handle it?”

“Unless you count that incoming blaster fire right into your face,”

A scoffed laugh was your reaction to the latter. You admitted that you weren’t the best fighter around. For the rest of the night, Cal continued bombarding you with questions the same way you did him, until you got to know each other to a certain extent.

Something about him was unusual in a good way. A company that you enjoyed. You’d hate to end the chat too soon but you told him that you had to go.

“See you around, Cal,”

“Yeah, likewise, [y/n],”

You smiled at him and then prepared yourself for the next leap across the next building. Cal watched you close the eight-foot gap between the building where you sat and the rooftop you’ve landed on. You looked over your shoulder as you ran before you vanished into the night—he was still looking back at you.

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leelee10898 · 4 years

Text

Mittens

Here is my submission for the choices 12 days of fictmas!! Hosted by ME lol. I initially had something else prepared, however this kind of popped in my head and wouldn't go away. I picked the song Mittens by Carly Rae Jensen. This isn't a popular song at all, most people probably have never heard of it... but I love it.

Im going to apologize now, read more is not working for mobile for me.. and my laptop is mia.. i have tagged the post long post.

Ellie sloshed through the wet snow covered sidewalk, the air crisp and bitter. She pulled her scarf tighter around her face, trying to keep the sting of the wind at bay. It was only a two block walk home from the diner she worked at night, but the frigid temperatures were a bitch. She stuffed her hands back in her coat, trying to keep her hands from freezing solid.

She rounded the corner, her building in sight. Finally she let out a sigh of relief. It was Christmas eve, and the diner had been busy all day. As she climbed the stairs to her 3rd floor loft she could hear the sounds of Christmas music blaring from the down stairs neighbors, followed by the loud laughter that filled the halls. It would be a long night, that she was sure of.

Ellie loved Christmas time, usually. It was her mother's favorite holiday, her most cherished memories Were those of her parents Decorating the tree, Laughing and singing Christmas Carols, while drinking hot chocolate and spending time together…. just the three of them. This year however was different for her all together, she was alone, completely and totally alone.

It had been five months since she last seen Colt. Five months since she had been home, And 3 months since the falling out with her dad. Riya and Darius were still together, and at the same school about 2 hours away from Langston. She loved when they would visit, but she would be lying if their constant PDA made her heart twinge. She missed Colt so much. The last thing he told her was he knew she would be great, If he could only see her now.

She turned the key, pushing her shoulder into it with a gentle nudge to open, flicked the lights on and tossed the keys on to the table next to the door. She had been in her dorm for two months before something had to give, she hated her roommate. The last straw was when she locked her out the entire night while she had some random guy in the room, who stole her pillows and blankets along with her bras. What kind of weirdo does that?

After a long hot shower, She changed into a t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy Christmas pjs pants. She tied her hair back and began to string lights on the little tree she picked up on the roadside stand by the diner. The loud echoing of the party going on below her becoming overwhelming, something to drown out the noise .

"Alexa. Play my christmas playlist."

Home tonight

Rest my headIn my single childhood bed

Close my eyes

Count to three

Wish that you were here with me

She hummed along with the tune playing as she adorned the tree with the miscellaneous Ornaments she picked up at the thrift shop in town. She still attended classes, just enough to keep her scholarship in tact. Because there were no other dorms available, the school helped with some housing costs. she found a small loft outside of campus, Saving her tips and using her savings she was able to furnish and decorate her little space. It wasn't much but it was hers, and she was proud of it.

Still, the nights were lonely. She often thought about Colt, where he was, what he was doing. Did he think of her at all?

Last year when my hands were cold

You were always there to hold

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

Something to get me through

The loneliness of Christmas eve

Ifell for you, like crazy

And I can't get thoughts of you, from me

The speaker blasted the music, she liked this song. Her fingers grazed a little glass star in the box. It made her think of her dad, god she missed him so much. They had made some progress in recent weeks, but he took an assignment that required him to travel, he would have to miss Christmas.

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

She stood back giving the tree a look over, absentmindedly resting her hand on her stomach, the other on her hip. A smile played on her lips its really coming together. But the smile quickly faded as she spotted the couple walking from the building, holding hands the woman cuddling into her boyfriend's side.

By my table I survive

Fix the makeup from my eyes

Fake a smile so they will see

Wish that you were here with me

Last year when my hands were cold

You were always there to hold

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

She missed that…

***********

Colt climbed off his bike, a shiver rippling through him. He liked the warm, not the cold. He had been a rolling stone the past five months, going wherever his two wheel took him. He tried to keep his mind busy, planning job after job. The pay out was great, but something was missing. How could he become the king of L.A without his Queen? The problem was his Queen was far away being great. The more time away from her, the more he realized he didn't need to be king of LA, he could be whatever she needed him to be.

Looking up at the brick building a car drove past splashing a dirty, wet, cold mixture of slush all over him. Great! Fuck you asshole! He shouted as he shook his hands. Definitely not how he wanted his night to go. It was Christmas Eve, his father was gone, his mother vacationing on some tropical island with her new husband. He was alone, completely alone. He let out a frustrated sigh as he made his way towards the building. He was nervous about this task, but the pay out was worth it.

****************

Ellie sat on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. The tv was on, but she wasn't paying it any mind.

Shine your name

Through the snow storm, baby

You can break me

To the bone, ohI was wrong

You were wrong to make me

Feel like I was all alone,

She dabbed her eyes, the song hitting a little close to home. Damn him for leaving her all alone, with no way to get in touch with him. He left her alone, when she needed him the most.

Walking through my old home town

No one else but me around

Make an angel in the snow

Pray that I can let you go

*******

Colt stood in front of the door, he never felt nervous before a job, but this time the stakes were high and if he were being totally honest, this wasn't exactly a job. He mustered up every ounce of courage he could as he lifted his hand to the door and gave it a quick rapp. His heart in his throat, he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. This was it, no turning back now.

********

The party had started to die down, the commotion seeming to spill into the halls. She heard a knock at the door. God not another drunk idiot at the wrong apartment again. She grunted, rising from the couch and walking across the room. Slowly opening the door.

fell for you, like crazy

And I can't get thoughts of you, from me

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair

Your warmest pair

Ellie stood there stunned. She expected a drunk idiot, what she got was completely different. She blinked repeatedly, a pair of deep brown eyes staring back at her.

"Hi El." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"C, colt? Wha. What are you, how did you find. What are you doing here?" She stammered.

"I um, I needed to see you. Can I. Maybe come in?"

Ellie nodded, stepping aside and letting him in. Closing the door behind her.

"Ellie I. I.missed you. I'm sorry, I Was an idiot. I shouldn't have let you go. I love you. "

"I'm pregnant."

"You're.. Excuse me?" He stood there gobsmacked.

"Five months. I don't expect anything from you. I can do this.."

"Ellie.."

"On my own. I can raise him alone. I just didn't know how to."

"Ellie!"

"Reach you. I just-"

She was cut off by his lips meeting hers. His hands dropping from her cheeks, resting on her hips. She threw her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss. She had felt so alone, so sad, so lost, but not anymore. He was here, he was real and her Christmas wish came true.

"Ellie, I know I haven't been around. I'm an asshole who thought you were better off. But I Was wrong, I missed you so so much. I promise to be there for you." He dropped his hands to her stomach, her small bump sticking out. "and our baby. I promise to take care of you both, to love you both more than I ever thought capable. And I promise to.never leave you again."

Ellie met his misty eyed gaze, tears began to fall freely. "Forever?"

"Forever, you are my forever Ellie." He smirked as she jumped into his arms, nearly knocking him over. He was there, and he was finally home and neither would be alone again.

See, I fell for you like crazy

And and I can't get thoughts of you, from me

So give me your warmest pair

Your strongest pair of mittens

Please

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#choices 12 days of fictmas #12 days of ficmas #colt x ellie #long post

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mxrcayong · 4 years

Text

the avatar series: 01.13

masterlist.

previous | next

chapter twelve

~ flashback to 24 hours before ~

Roddie was practically imprisoned in the mayoral home. Guards were deployed all over the mansion, basically preventing her from even thinking about sneaking out past curfew, which was put at 7pm. Before, she wasn’t even done with her transit from school at 7pm. She was banned from leaving any time before 9am or after 7pm without ‘proper supervision’, making her essentially trapped in the same home as the father she despised.

It’s not like she has despised him all her life. In fact, he was an amazing father growing up. He was the one who taught her about how bending was ingrained and imperative in their culture, who taught her about the history of bending. Consequently, when he became mayor and eight years ago and his opinion rapidly changed, Roddie could practically recognized the man she called her father. Her confusion quickly changed to anger. Yes, before he was mayor – there was a mayor before who implemented the anti-pro-bending laws, but growing up; he always enthused to Roddie how much he would like to take her to one. Once he got the position of power, it seemed like he completely changed and became worse than the person before him. And when he started acting on his position of power, Roddie didn’t hesitate in separating herself from her father.

Consequently, for the last few days since the attack on the abandoned warehouse, Roddie has barely left her room. Her hopeless plans of avoiding her father initially consisted of her napping throughout the day and then working throughout the night, essentially giving her a completely different time zone from her father. However, her father was a politician. He’s practically always working. Not only that, but the staff in the home would always wake her up for meals – her mother insisting on hosting family dinners.

Being a politicians’ daughter made all eyes on them, especially now when the current news focuses on the politics of their society. Often, Roddie would use her attention to call out the government – which did nothing to repair her relationship with her father – however, this is the first time she’s been forcibly banned and censored by her parents and the staff.

Roddie cannot complain about this attention, especially if it meant that their family meals would almost always be interrupted by calls from other government officials or the press. Fortunately, this means her time with her father was interrupted.

Tonight’s dinner felt like the ordinary; a tense silence, the awkward clinking of utensils, the small conversation between her parents, and the resounding noise of chewing that took over any silence. Underneath the table, Roddie had her phone out – using her utensils with one hand and her other hand was texting her friends.

to: (glopo nerds + roddie): I actually hate this so much

to: (glopo nerds + roddie): kill me now pls

from jeyes (glopo nerds + roddie): can you just say you need to study?? we do still have an exam in a month

from lele (glopo nerds + roddie: I see why you call him a nerd now.

to (glopo nerds + roddie): excuse you you’re included

from lele (glopo nerds + roddie): I would offer to come over but I’m in a similar situation lol

One benefit from living in the mayoral estate rather than her dorms? She’s literally a street away from Chenle. Normally, she’s an elevator ride and multiple hallways away. Chenle was quite literally her neighboring home. It was why she saw him as a brother – for the last eight years, they lived next to each other.

to (glopo nerds + roddie): group call in 30??? Imma try to eat fast and get the hell outta here

from nana (glopo nerds + roddie): sorry too social for you guys 💁♀️

from jeyes (glopo nerds + roddie) even for me??? 🥺

to glopo nerds + roddie: we literally have no other friends, shut up

from nana (glopo nerds + roddie): why you gotta expose me like that 😡 I s2g ik what parents mean when they say raising children ain’t worth it

Rolling her eyes at her friends, Roddie chewed her food faster but struggled due to the texture. She was debating asking one of the chefs to put the food aside for her to eat later, but she knew her mother would only make her finish eating now. Roddie was hungry – but her hunger couldn’t even motivate her to stay around her father longer. The anticipation to leave didn’t last long as a phone call soon brought her father away from dinner and to the other room.

Usually, he closes the doors – wanting the meetings to be private, especially if Roddie was there. She was known for calling out the government, and if she knew any of their secrets? He was certain they would be all over the news the next day.

But this time, he left the door open.

“Zhong, Amon,” His voice was faint and muffled by the door, but Roddie basically did everything she can to focus on what he was saying. “Don’t you think this is going too fast?” Robotic yelling could be heard from the phone. “Wait, what do you mean a reporter has been asking you questions?” Could he mean Tari’s so-called ‘best friend’? Roddie thought. “Why does this have to speed up-“He was interrupted…and he started walking away from the door. But, Roddie couldn’t deny the panic rising in his voice. In her eighteen years of life, Roddie has never heard her father’s voice rise in octave and spill quickly.

Her eyes widened, and this didn’t go unnoticed by her mother. “Aye, anak,” When her mother speaks in her family tribe’s native language, Roddie knows she’s about to get in trouble. “You know this is serious times. Please do not escalate things. You do not know what is going on.” Roddie remained silent, rolling her eyes. She didn’t want to be like her mother – standing idly by, being submissive to her father just because of the traditional roles she was raised to live by.

Practically stuffing her face – Roddie stopped caring about the possibility of choking. “IM DAHN.” Roddie screamed, her mouth still full of food. Ignoring her mother’s critique on her manners, she sprinted up to her room on the second floor.

As soon as she got into her room, she let her back land on the back of her door. Sliding down to a squatting position, she started texting one of her best friends.

To lele: hey hey emergency, can we meet?? Your dad isn’t there right???

From lele: he just left, why? Whatsup?

To lele: was it after a call?

From lele: ye how’d you know?

To lele: I overheard the calls…do you wanna be the Watson to my holmes?

To lele: the bess to my Nancy?

To lele: the hastings to my Poirot?

From lele: I’m in ONLY if you stop comparing us to famous detectives

From lele: the teachers in class heard you once and I think they genuinely thought my name was watson for a month

From lele: also im not always the sidekick smh 🤬 I s2g can I be appreciated more pls

From lele: whats up?

“Are you sure it’s safe to invite them?” Chenle asked Roddie as the two waited in the foyer for their bending friends. “They’re benders… they’re more at risk than us.”

Roddie rolled her eyes, “It’s nothing. Honestly, Jeno barely bends unless in a designated area. We know him, he’s a damp towel when it comes to bending.” Chenle laughed at the joke shared between them that Jeno is nowhere at all funny. The laugh, hopefully, covered up his fears he had for the safety of his friends. “Plus, Jaemin is my partner-in-crime, the Robin to my Batman, the-“ Roddie was about to continue listing characters, but the look on Chenle face practically threatening to leave right now stopped her. “I can’t do activist shit without him.”

“How are you expecting us to leave your house by the way?” The younger boy furrowed his brows, “I was allowed because I’m legit a minute away. My guards saw me enter your house. But how do we get out of here?” The older girl and mastermind behind the plan pulled out her best puppy dog eyes, making Chenle’s eyes practically roll to the back of his head. “What is it?” He practically growled.

Roddie started swaying, trying to act cuter. “Do you remember the old mannequins I had when I was into fashion for like a month?” Chenle nodded. “Can you help me look in the basement for them? We can say we’re sleeping over.”

“Where will our legs be?” Chenle almost yelled but hushed it to a whisper as guards started walking past them. “Your mannequins are legless.”

“Pillows?” Roddie said, more as a question.

“You didn’t think this out properly, did you?” Roddie ignored his question. “Do you even know where they have gone?”

Her eyes went wide momentarily, before she pulled put her phone. “I may or may not have taken photos of some documents I’ve seen laying around, maybe the address of the factory is in one of them.”

“Factory?” Chenle clarified. “Do you mean the factory on Bumi Boulevard?” Roddie’s eyes widened. How did he know classified information? “Listen, because you have a bad relationship with your father doesn’t mean I have one with mine!”

After thirty minutes of rummaging through the basement for the old mannequins and some wigs that could even remotely match their hair color and some of her father’s old college shirts to put on the mannequins. Scattering the four mannequins around the room in a somewhat cohesive manner, they had two mannequins lying down on a beanbag and two on the bed – both lying down facing the opposite direction. Roddie couldn’t help but be more thankful that Jaemin had dyed his hair bright blue or else they may not have been able to find a wig.

Screaming out her room saying they’re ‘going to be studying and then ‘having a sleepover’, Roddie blasted music in the room and the three took off. Roddie knew all the secret exits, and although the house is more guarded than usual, the four are all wearing black and due to the darkness of the night, can easily be concealed. Additionally, the guarded element of her life comes from her designated guard checking in on her every hour.

Another thing Roddie couldn’t be happier for? Jeno having a driver’s license. Bumi Boulevard, although is connected to the train station, Chenle mentioned how its in more of the outskirts of the city. “You do realize I’m not some valet.” Jeno teased, climbing into the driver’s seat with Jaemin in the shotgun.

The car lifted off the ground. “Every time you invite me to go out at night, it’s either a sleepover or when you need a ride.”

“Don’t take it personally, Jeno.” Jaemin commented from beside him. “It’s just because you don’t like parties and the only time Roddie goes out at night, other than with us, is to party.”

“That’s a noble reason!” Roddie tried to convince him, “I’m respecting your preferences.”

“Whatever.” Jeno was teasing of course. As much as they say he isn’t funny, he’s quite funny and Roddie cannot deny it. “Okay, so let’s go over a game plan. We can’t just waltz in.”

“We can’t?” Roddie asked, genuinely confused. She’s pretty much used to getting access to most government buildings, unless her father has told the police to ban her from entering. That usually happened once she breaks in. She didn’t even know about the factory yet, so it’s practically impossible that she’s been banned.

“Jaemin, I can’t give her the look or else my eyes will be off the road.” Jeno groaned. “Can you glare at her with disappointment for a minute? Maybe for even twenty? Never have I heard a more stupid statement in my life.” Jeno teased. Roddie slapped the head rest of Jeno’s seat in offense. None of them expected Jaemin to actually give Roddie a disappointed look for five minutes as Chenle started brainstorming ideas.

Jaemin interrupted Chenle’s idea of ‘dressing up like barbeque delivery guys’ with even more disappointment than Jeno implied him giving. “You guys are literally their children. Does anyone-“ Jaemin let out a soft ‘ah’ when he saw Jeno with a backpack, “Just say that you have something in your bag you have to give to your dad.”

“Okay, well it’s probably best to me.” Chenle noted. “Everyone knows how much Roddie hates her dad.”

“What if they go through the bags?” Roddie asked, remembering the security checks in the government building. “Jeno, did you pack anything that can somewhat resemble a gift?”

“I think?” Jeno questioned himself, voice full of uncertainty. “I mean, at this point, because of school and stuff, I just carry the bag out of habit. I haven’t actually touched it or opened it and saw everything inside for like…a month?”

Roddie cringed in disgust. “Okay, well, as long as there are no condoms in there or snotty tissues, I can imagine it being okay.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t okay. “Sorry to ask, but what exactly of these are you giving to your dad?” The security guard asked. Somehow, they managed to convince them that Chenle needed to bring his friends inside to reduce his anxiety about being in a government facility. Honestly, Chenle was glad this person was someone he hasn’t seen before – or else they would know Chenle basically lives in the city hall when he wasn’t with friends.

He was faced with the contents of Jeno’s bag; some lint, a beaten up water bottle, protein powder, a ‘5 free coffees’ card that expired a month ago with only three coffees being used (Jaemin scowled so hard at Jeno for not letting Jaemin use it at the sight of it), and a laptop in a casing that definitely didn’t belong to a government official.

“Oh, he left his…personal laptop at home.” Chenle lied, scratching the back of his head. “He messaged me saying he needed it…I couldn’t find his laptop case though, so I put it in…mine.” The laptop case in question? A plain white one, which had some unfortunate drawings of penises on it with sharpie (Chenle can take credit for the first penis on there- having drawn it when Jeno fell asleep during a lecture).

The security guard nodded, obviously somewhat skeptical. They sighed. “Okay, well, he’s in the meeting room with Amon so just leave it in his office. I think they’re having a private talk.” They noted, “All the guards were told to leave that floor.”

Chenle quickly nodded. The four of them nod politely and thanked them, before running to the closest map they could see inside the factory. The factory seemed to be completely made out of metal and with more levels underground than over it. Thousands of rooms surrounded the edges, but something about the factory felt like an auditorium. The floors above the very bottom floor seemed to act like balconies looking down at the center. She could see what happens on the bottom floor, which she would say is approximately 17 floors below her on ground level, from her position next to the map on the pillar. “Okay, so my dad and your dad are in the office with…Amen?”

“Amon.” Jaemin and Roddie said in-sync, remembering his name from all the news reports he’s been on.

“Right, Amon…” Chenle trailed off, before trying to understand the language on the map. It wasn’t something he’s seen before. In fact, they weren’t even words. They were numbers in some sort of sequence that doesn’t quite make sense to him, despite practically being an expert in math. “Uh…I don’t get it.”

Roddie decided to look around. Chenle and Jeno were the best at numbers. Her and Jaemin? Not so much. He once said 20 – 10 = 0 during a quickfire round of trivia. So her best bet is to observe while Jeno and Chenle analyse the plaque of the map on the pillar.

“Do you think we can find a lab coat or one of the uniforms?” Roddie asked, breaking away the trance of her friends on the plaque. “So we can get into more rooms easily.”

Jaemin snapped, grinning widely as he looked at his partner-in-crime. “Okay, I bet we can find a broom closet somewhere.” And that’s what Jaemin did. With no regards to walking into a private meeting or caught, he started trying to open any door he could see that seemed unlocked.

Behind the first door was a female bathroom, the second door was a weird test-tubey room, the third was something Roddie couldn’t even describe. It felt like some perverse and illegal version of the ‘Price is Right’ with the prices becoming more and more obscure.

Until finally, they got to a room resembling a locker room. And luckily for them, saw a cabinet labelled ‘extra uniforms’. “Thank fucking Roku.”

It felt like they were in the metal labyrinth for hours. Their hearts were consistently racing, worried about getting caught. Roddie and Chenle eventually had to disguise themselves – many guards offering to escort them to the office, to which they would always say ‘I’m heading to the bathroom’. They couldn’t feel luckier there were only so many workers here that they haven’t come across the same one twice, or else they would look like they’re having quite serious bladder problems.

They had no sense of time. The only thing that reminded them of the time was the clocks on the walls, notifying them it was now one in the morning. They got here around 10. That means they spent three hours trying to locate their parent’s secret office.

But normally, they’d be done with their meetings by now, right? Roddie thought back to all the times her father’s meeting went over time…it’s usually when something didn’t go to plan or it’s something with more risks than they thought. Shit, Roddie started biting her lip so hard – it bled at first contact with the tip of her tooth. We’re really in trouble. But she started praying they just went home by now. I hope.

It felt like a miracle the moment they got into a room that resembled an office. It required some failed attempts at lockpicking from Roddie and Jaemin, before expertful lock-picking from Jeno, who refuses to tell anyone how he learnt it. “Maybe Jeno is cooler than you guys.” Chenle teased, sneaking in behind them into the office. But the cocky words that left his mouth were the last of the same tone.

He was full of awe. This was Roddie’s dad’s office. Around the room had photos of Roddie as a child and family photos. While he was frozen in place, everyone else went searching around the room. It wasn’t long before they opened every drawer, every file (Chenle used his hacking skills to good use to open every computer file), every potential secret entrance handle – everything was turned upside down and sideways.

Everything they saw broke their hearts. Chenle’s and Roddie’s due to the destruction of their nation and Chenle’s disillusionment of his father, but Jeno’s and Jaemin’s because they could no longer feel safe.

But one folder revealed a lot. The folder title was ‘BENDING RALLY 001 – THE INITIAL STAGE’. Dozens and dozens of files and blueprints describing an event happening in a few days fell out as soon as they opened it.

“What is this?” Chenle said, almost as if he wasn’t there himself. He wasn’t like Roddie where he believed the worst in his family, particularly his father – but the documents proved otherwise.

Plans and blueprints of technology that would remove one’s ability to bend. Plans to temporarily disable their bending in order to ‘make a safer world’. But the blueprints show a sprinkler with an ‘anti-bending’ chemical in it, bracelets that look like Apple Watches with a band comparable to a single side of a handcuff. Both were made to suspend people’s bending – although there was minimal information on the blueprints if this will be permanently or temporarily suspended. A plan was made to have a registration event, mandatory for benders to come at a certain time and pick up the tool that’ll be oppressing them. There was another note saying they have to have a backroom for Amon ‘to do his magic’. What magic?

There were thousands of lists on the desks. From names of every citizen to the city to the lists of confirmed benders forced to register their bending ability due to their profession, the duo noticed that all lists focus on potential or confirmed benders living in Sooman. But one list caught Roddie’s attention.

On the top, the list showed how the official filtered and created this list. The categories were the birth year and which tribe their family has come from, according to their social identity information.

The list contained ten people and a message on top ‘to investigate these ten immediately’ and ‘nullify their risk’. Roddie couldn’t even imagine how they will be ‘nullified’.

There was one name that shouted at her, as if the black text suddenly became bold and red and underlined a million times. There was no way, Roddie thought – trying to recall her every interaction with them. It can’t be …but they don’t know that, they might kill them. She took out her phone and texted someone who could get to the bottom of this. Only once her information is confirmed will she tell them. She didn’t want to panic them.

But even as she left, the visual of ‘Tari Kotala’ dead center in the list of identities haunted her like a devil on her shoulder.

request anything for future parts / penny for your thoughts here

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honkhonkrichard · 5 years

Note

21 with reddie

21. Best Friends Sibling AU

This got way longer than I thought and I’m calling it ‘Get it right the First Time’ after the billy joel song okay ‘njoy! (WC: 1600+)

“He’s adopted. We all are.” Stan said out of the blue, after dinner.

“What?” Richie asked.

“Eddie. He’s adopted. So is Ben. Bill is too.” He said again, louder this time.

“I-I mean.. I guessed.” Richie shrugged. “Cause they’re white and you’re-” Richie threw a hand over at Stan. “Not.”

“Israeli.”

“I forgot the word.”

“clearly.”

“I-I didn’t have to know, dude, it’s not a big deal.” Richie stammered.

“You were staring at Eddie the entire meal.” Stan said loosely, eyes never leaving his book.

Richie shifted. He was staring at Eddie. How could he not? He was… gorgeous. Big grey eyes, freckled, tan skin, wavy blond hair and the cutest little face. He had a look of perpetual surprise and annoyance, like someone just stole his parking space.

He sat a the table quietly nearly the whole meal, watching the conversation with curiosity and every now and then, his eyes shifted over to Richie.

Richie couldn’t take his eyes off of the younger boy. He was so… pretty. The light from the dining room was framing his face this side of perfect, and his sweater was too big and it gave him the sweetest little sweaterpaws-

“I wasn’t staring at Eddie.”

Stan’s eyes looked up from his book, sharp and intelligent as usual. “Liar.”

“So what If I was?” Richie said, probably too defensively. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Give you my blessing.” Stan said from behind his book, light green eyes still locked on Richie.

“I don’t think I get you, Uris.” Richie lied, because he was quite sure he did. Rich hadn’t been subtle with his idiot grin and enthusiasm with trying to talk to Eddie, who didn’t reciprocate in the slightest.

“I think you do, Tozier.”

“Stanley?” Someone said from the door.

Richie looked up to see Eddie clamped around the door frame, sweater paws and cute grumpy surprise in full swing. Turns out he was wearing little shorts too. Richie gulped.

“Yes Eddie?” Stan said innocently, putting his book down.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably and looked Richie over, the frown in his lips grew. Richie felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

“Sure.” Stan blinked, and stood up. He looked considerably older than his siblings, Richie decided, trying not to imagine his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “Rich, you’ll give us a minute?”

“Course.”

Stan left the room, and Eddie disappeared with him, leaving Richie alone with himself to think about how much Eddie licking his lips after dinner had drove him crazy.

I gotta stop. Richie thought, rubbing his face. Gonna go half chub thinking about it too much. He decided to mindlessly fiddle with his bracelets.

Stan strutted back into the room not longer later, sunk back down into his desk chair, handed Richie a small slip of paper and tucked his hands behind his neck, stretching out like a cat.

“Get out.”

Richie’s eyes widened. “Eddie doesn’t like me, does he?”

Stan shrugged ominously. “It’s me that wants you out.”

“Rude.”

“You have a crush on my baby brother.” Stan said simply.

“Baby.” Richie grinned.

“Out please.”

Richie huffed and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yeah?” Stan nodded in response, and Richie left the room, closing the door behind him (He may be a douche but he wasn’t a barbarian.)

Richie silently gazed into the hallway. All the doors were labeled. Ben’s door was closed, Bill’s was half open (Though loud horror movie noises were coming from behind it.) and what Richie assumed was Eddie’s was wide open; the quiet sound of tapping the only sound from it.

The horror movie paused and Bill swung his door open, eyeing Richie curiously.

“Sup man?” Richie waved.

“W-What’re you doing?” Bill asked, voice lower and more angry than it had been at dinner.

“Uhhhhh I just left Stan cause he kicked me out and then I got lost in thoughts. What’s up with you?” Richie admitted.

Bill glared him up to down. Richie wasn’t sure why he was angry. They got along fine at dinner, joked about how they had no idea they both worked at the same place (Charlie’s vinyls, Bill had the day shift, Rich took the night shift) and now he was being judged.

“If you fuck over my brother, I’ll slaughter you.” Bill promised, and then closed the door.

“What?” Richie mumbled as the horror movie clicked back on.

Richie made a face and went down the hall, and couldn’t stop himself from peering into Eddie’s room.

There were lots of knick knacks everywhere, succulents, a big desk and Eddie curled up in his too big sweater, typing away on a laptop. He noticed Richie, clearly looking at him through the corner of his eye (still surprised and annoyed) and took a deep breath, trying to continue typing.

Richie gave a him a toothy smile. Eddie did not respond.

“So… Uh… Do you.. like… Did I- Um.” Richie tried. Words weren’t working.

Eddie sighed and got up from his chair and then-

closed the door.

Richie snapped some finger guns at the closed door. “Cool.” He said. “Dope I’ll uhhhhh see you later.”

That night, Richie nodded along to the music blasting through his headphones, and emptied his pockets. Wallet. Phone. Rings he forgot to put on after he washed his hands for dinner. Piece of paper Stan gave him that he never read. Pop can tab. Wait.

Richie picked up the paper and unfolded it. It had a small message written in red pen on it; it looked like it had been scribbled over relentlessly. It also had a snapchat username.

Snap: KasperEddie youre rly hot attractive and it makes me nervous but i wanna keep talking 2 to you - eddie (the small blonde one of stan’s brothers who gets really nervous around you)

Richie didn’t bother fighting the smile off his face. His day was looking up. Even though it was 11:26 at night.

He nabbed his phone and collapsed on his bed, adding Eddie’s username, and taking a quick photo of him lying in bed and sent it to the cutie patootie.

Tozier Boy🤙 (Trashrecords): Heyyyyyyyyy got ur message closing the door on me was rly sex c of u

The response was almost immediate. It was a photo of Eddie’s computer. Looks like he was writing an essay.

Eeeeeeee: Sorry you make me nervous I didn’t know what else to do

Richie grinned wildly and stuck his tongue out at the camera, still lying in bed

Tozier Boy🤙: ill let it slide cause youre cute as hell xox

Then he texted Stan.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:29): you BASTART whyd u kick me out if eddie liked me

And got a snap from Eddie: A photo of his keyboard:

Eeeeeeee: oh!!!

“Holy fuck.” Richie whispered. “You are fucking adorable.”

and he sent Eddie a photo of his ceiling saying just that.

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:35): Because Eddie told me to. Said you made him nervous. He also told Bill he liked you and if you started speaking to Eddie Bill would put 30 rounds in your chest.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:35): hot damn

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:36) Also; Ben wants you to come back over and give him “Romance Advice” because you seem “With it”

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:37): u never told me ben was a grandpa

The next image was of Eddie’s face, which was cute enough, except he had drawn blush onto himself. Eeeeeeee: thank you

Immediately following it was a black screen: omg im covered in acne and im sweaty im so sorry

Richie took a photo of him making a desperate face.

Tozier Boy🤙: can we go out i need to get you comfortable with me holding your cute little face as soon as fucking possible also can u go call Ben a grandpa its very important

A photo of a confused bed tucked into a beanbag chair: Eeeeeeee: he said stan JSUT called him that fjkdhflkjdhfjdkhjkd

Richie smiled against his pillow, trying to breath slowly to calm himself down. Holy fuck this fucking kid.

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:45) We’ve made Ben very sad.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:45) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:46) He told me Eddie called him a grandpa too and made the “:(” face and then told me you just “Walk with.. uhm.. swagger and stuff. [You] just seem to know what he’s doing..” Little does he know-

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:46) who’s gonna tell him im dumbass

Then Richie went back to Eddie, trying to pull himself together, took a photo of his dog.

Tozier Boy🤙: so…. did u…… wanna …..hmmmmmmm… go out sometime.?

The next photo was of Eddie’s wide eyes, it was blurry, like he was moving as he took it.

Eeeeeeee: !!!!!! CAN U BRING UR DOG

“God damn.”

Tozier Boy🤙: which one I got 2 an old man corgi (Amante/Ames) and this baby (Bellissima/Belle)

Eeeeeeee: BOTH!!!! I WOULD DIE FOR THEM

Then Eddie sent another black screen.

Eeeeeeee: Fr though I would like a date. Do you like ice cream?

Tozier Boy🤙: im lack toes and taller ants i love ice cream how about this saturday at noon?

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:53): Eddie’s cackling madly what the fuck did you do

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:53) lack toes and taller ants dude

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:54): Cool. Stop it.

Eeeeeeee: sure!!

Richie dropped his phone to the side and danced against his bed. Waving his hands to The Safety Dance. Dates, dogs and cute boys. Okay.

He spent the rest of the night talking with Eddie, grinning widely the whole time.

#honkstory #i think i change styles... 40 different times #anyway #reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fanficton #thanks for the request!#mine #richie #eddie #bill #stan #ben #ask #anon #fanfic #get it right the first time #best friends sibling au

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

DARING DO and the ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 17 of 21

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Daring Do

and the Adventure of the X'ibian Vase!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

And

Carmen Pondiego

Cover Art by

Doctor Dimension

52630 words

Writing begun 08/26/15

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Robber and Overthrow were scanning the two passes that the maps showed as the only approaches to ancient Hong Wa. Their binoculars showed only narrow, stony notches with no vegetation at all.

“Any luck, Robber?”

“No. It is hard to be sure of details with all the heat shimmering but nothing the size of a dromedary has showed up at all. I wonder if something has happened to them?”

Tyranny was crouched behind one of the MT81 quick fire cannon, pretending to aim and fire up the gorges.

Overthrow shook his head sadly. “He was a sharp and prudent lawyer before he got this obsession with the Heart of Discord and world domination. Look at him. He threw away the firm’s entire capital on this one throw of the dice.

“He does not even seem to understand that we need to capture them all ALIVE, if we can! Daring Do, especially. I overheard him last night. He was muttering to himself about torturing her to death. That is bad enough. He was not even thinking about the fact that only she has any actual chance of FINDING the Heart of Discord.”

Robber agreed glumly as he sweated under the merciless X'ibian sun. “I would have given up. I can’t. If this does not work, we are bankrupt. I don’t want to start over from nothing.”

Overthrow sat on a stone and asked, “Taken up mind reading, Robber? Those are my thoughts, exactly.”

Tyranny was laughing in a twisted fantasy. “Just wait until they show their heads! These guns will tear them to shreds!”

Robber stepped up behind Tyranny and pulled him away from the weapon. “Fine! Blow them to pieces! THEN HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND THE TOMB?”

Tyranny blinked several times. In a puzzled voice he pointed out, “That nearest necropolis is the oldest of them. We just go down there and look for the marker. Im Farst was an emperor, so the marker on the grave must be huge.”

In the gentle voice reserved for trying to reason with a child, Robber suggested, “Think it through, Tyranny. If it was that simple, one of the many previous expeditions would have found it. Besides, IT IS NOT A GRAVE. It is a BIG tomb. Somehow, it was hidden so well that over the ages, MILLIONS have been spent trying to find it. NOPONY ever has.

“Daring Do must not be harmed. SHE is very sure that she has solved the problem. She is not the only one. BOTH Celestia and Luna are backing her expedition. THEY are sure that she is right.”

From the low stone ridge off to the left of them, a rifle boomed, echoes bouncing back from the ancient wall of Hong Wa. Dirt flew up about two feet from one of the ammunition boxes. A second shot blasted from a different part of the ridge. The bullet made a screaming whine as it ricocheted from a stone near the tripod of one of the guns.

Before either of the partners could stop him, Tyranny leaped to one of the MT81s and began to blast away along the ridge, swinging the weapon on its mount like a fire hose! The noise was a deafening, rolling thunder!

The bits and chunks of rock flying from the ridge told of bad aim. He was not even hitting near the crest where his opponents had to be.

Robber simply clubbed him down and hurled him away from the gun. Taking the handles, he waited until the next rifle shot’s noise and smoke revealed where to shoot. He sent an economical three round burst at the spot. It shattered stone and threw up dirt right on target. He waited quietly for the next shot to reveal the location of a shooter.

That shot came quickly, and Robber’s return fire splintered stone there too. Not hearing their other MT81, he spared a glance. Overthrow was bleeding from a leg but worse, the gun’s ammo box was a shattered ruin. Single shells were thrown about like nine-pins when a strike is rolled. Overthrow was attempting to clear the wreckage and feed the weapon single bullets.

There was another shot from the ridge! Robber aimed and fired. His gun blasted once and clicked. His ammunition box was empty. He raised his hooves and stood well back from the useless MT81.

He saw that Overthrow was following his example. Tyranny was frozen with terror. Dromedaries were coming across the ridge. Robber recognized the advance method and shook his head. Somepony had trained these fighters.

Seven dromedaries under arms, accompanied by two ponies with rifles and one horse with a wicked looking sword came up and seized the three.

A large dromedary bared a sword and held it in a threatening position. Robber had read enough to know that was a bad sign with X'ibians. The dromedary mare spoke mildly enough. “I am Sang He. This could have been an interesting fight if that idiot,” she pointed to Tyranny, “had not wasted your ammunition. You used what you had very well.”

Robber shrugged, “Not a lot that I could do to stop him, in time. He was ‘playing’ gunner when the first shot was fired. I knocked him off the gun as swiftly as I could.

“This whole expedition has been his idea. He thought that we could just go to the necropolis and dig up relics of Im Farst.

“The whole expedition was not too bad, financially. He bankrupted us, buying old manuscripts of the earliest X'ibian Empire. He thought that those relics would be fabulously valuable and allow us to recover our huge expenses. There is only one problem. We made a foray into the nearby necropolis. It is the wrong age entirely.

“Then he thought that maybe we could force Daring Do to reveal the location of Im Farst’s tomb. That was another piece of stupidity on his part.

“Here at the last, Overthrow and I were following him because we had no other choice. I mentioned that we are bankrupt? If it helps any, I was shooting only in defense.”

Sang He regarded Robber with mild disdain. “You told us only some of the truth. You are after a single relic. The legendary Heart of Discord. Daring Do was dispatched, not to prevent you from it, but to study and preserve the rest of the tomb.”

“She wasn’t to prevent us from getting the Heart of Discord?”

Daring Do, a bit of wind whipping her mane impressively, inquired, “Do you have any idea at all how old the Princesses Luna and Celestia are? They KNEW Im Farst and the Dragon Queen. They do not want the tomb of a friend despoiled for a single relic.”

Tyranny leaped on what Daring Do had said. “So! They gave you a map to the tomb! If you don’t hand it over right now, I will …” He hit the ground with a thump and a cloud of dust flaring out in all directions! Overthrow, leg wound still bleeding a bit, knocked him down and was sitting on him.

From his perch on Tyranny, he offered, “Excuse this, please. Our senior partner is more than a tiny bit unhinged. It did not show until we were committed to this business.”

Jeremy giggled. “It sure showed when he was shooting! Are you SURE that he is on YOUR side?”

Daring Do glanced skeptically at the three. “I had in mind allowing you to help us to excavate the tomb entrance as soon as we find it. You must realize that any three thousand year old guide or map will not be too accurate today. Even some hills move in that span of time. We will have our work cut out for us, just to locate the tomb and determine the correct method of entry.”

Tyranny, from his place flat on the ground, demanded, “What is so complex about it? Once we find the tomb, we just dig in and get what we need!”

Daring Do looked down incredulously. With all seven dromedaries doubled up with laughter and Soree giggling, she pointed out, “In my career, I have opened thirty eight significant ancient tombs. Every one has had at least two lethal traps that still functioned.

“Now I am certain that it will be YOU digging in, when we find the entrance!”

Robber chuckled sourly, “Tyranny, are you even beginning to grasp how stupid you are sounding?”

Daring Do shrugged. “Let him up. I have had to deal with grave robbing idiots before. “Mister Tyranny, you will not be allowed to enter the tomb at all. When we locate the artifact or any complication connected with it, you will be informed. If you try to enter without our specific permission, Sang He and her Dromedaries will shoot to kill without warning, is that clear?”

Tyranny regained his feet, snarling, “How can we possibly trust YOU?”

That caused Daring Do to double up laughing. When she regained her composure, she replied, “Not only are you still alive when we could have easily killed you, we are allowing you to stay with us. Consider, you are bankrupt. You cannot buy enough of fuel or supplies to get home but we are taking you in.

“It is we who have no cause to trust you!”

Soree went to Kanya Ama and asked, “May I get out the stove and fuel? We are now past our noon meal, due the presence of certain venomous insects.”

Kanya Ama knelt and allowed Soree to open her big pack panniers. Soree got out the stove, charcoal, and rice with dried vegetables already chopped and mixed in, needing only cooking to make them a meal.

Jeremy and Sehang Shu joined her in preparing the meal. Sehang Shu quietly offered, “Jeremy, you were very courageous in this event. Without your lead, we could have been killed.

“My given name is Shu. I wish that you would use it from now on.”

Lifting his eyes from the task of measuring the noon rice, Jeremy questioned, “I have made many mistakes of understanding so far, due to both prejudice and not grasping what I have been presented to study. From my reading, that offer has more meaning than simply letting me call you by your given name. Is that correct?”

Shehang Shu nodded, her face serious. “That is true, Jeremy. It is an offer of more than simply friendship.”

Jeremy returned to her the bow of one of low station to one of high. “I would be most honored, Shu. If I may say so, I have rarely ever met one that I respect more.” He hesitated before giving her a gentle hug.

Her return hug lifted him a good half meter off the ground!

She let him down and suggested with a giggle, “We can follow this up later. Just now, your lunch needs to be fixed!”

Soree grinned ear to ear as she commented, “We had better give you seconds, Jeremy! You are going to need your strength!”

Tyranny wandered close and demanded, “Never mind messing with the servants! When will my noon meal be ready?”

Tyranny promptly discovered two things about dromedaries. The first was that they can deliver a full power kick from any angle, using any leg. The other was that full power for a dromedary is very powerful indeed!

He picked himself up, cautiously, checking for broken bones. He had landed two meters away from where Shehang Shu’s hoof caught him. He snarled, “That is it! You are fired! Get out of here!”

That was met by a sudden clacking sound as all seven of the large bore dromedary rifles that Daring Do gave the herd were brought to bear and cocked, safeties off. He was surrounded by a herd of grim faced dromedaries staring down the sights of their weapons.

Sang He said in such a gentle voice that it took a moment for the meaning to penetrate, “You will abase yourself. Grovel before Shehang Shu and beg her for your life. If you do not, we will destroy you.”

Tyranny turned to Daring Do, who was staring in consternation at a sheaf of papers, and demanded, “Do something! Your servants are in revolt!”

Daring Do gave him a pained look. She patiently explained, “There is nothing for me to do. They are being very forbearing in allowing this conversation before firing.”

She pointed sweepingly to the desert horizon about them. “If you examine your surroundings with the utmost care, you might notice a tiny detail. You are not in Equestria. Equestrian law does not run here. What Sang He’s herd is about to do is TOTALLY LEGAL HERE.”

Tyranny’s brows drew down in puzzled shock. “All of this over firing a servant?”

Daring Do pointed out, “In the first place, NOT YOUR SERVANT! In the second place, not my servant, either. Sang He’s herd was engaged for their known and proven expertise in all aspects of the documentation, conservation and proper handling of antiquities.

“They have worked with me before. They are partners splitting a twenty percent share of the value of the total find as assessed by consultation between my Royal backers and the X'ibian Provincial Department of Antiquities. If the expedition fails, they will receive an already agreed to per diem.”

He gestured at the herd, with unwavering guns aimed at him. “These crude beasts, expert at anything? Ridiculous.”

There was another clacking of a rifle being cocked and brought to bear. Jeremy had joined the herd in steady, utterly calm aim at Tyranny. Soree was off to one side, out of the line of fire, sketching the scene into her notebook!

Daring Do observed, “Your mouth is digging you a grave that you will not get. By custom, your body will be put into an exposed location for desert scavengers to eat.”

It slowly percolated through Tyranny’s consciousness that what he was hearing was perfectly serious. He got down to his belly, head extended toward Shehang Shu. “Please spare my life! I did not understand what I was doing.” He frowned in concentration and added, “I am not sure that I do now. I will do my best to understand and behave.

“I am a scholar of the ancient form of your language. Perhaps I can assist the work coming by that means.”

Shehang Shu gave a millimetric nod from the Bow of one of highest station and slung her rifle. She pulled her sword and held it in a low guard position, edge toward Tyranny.

In a voice so cold that it should have frozen him, she stated, “We are on the same road. We ask no thing of you and you, none from us. The path is all that is shared.”

She sheathed her sword and turned her back on him. The others all released the cock and slung their rifles too. Even Jeremy turned his back on the shivering Tyranny.

Soree and Jeremy returned to fixing their delayed noon meal.

Daring Do stirred the still shuddering Tyranny with her hoof. “We need to talk about this translation. I told you, back in your office in Canterlot, that your X'ibian translation was near hopeless. It does not seem to have improved.”

That got Tyranny’s attention. “Nonsense. I have even used your lexicon of X'ibian Ideograms! I got every one exactly right!”

Daring Do nodded briskly. “You did. You also totally missed the meaning! All references to Dromedary are superlatives. They are the epitome of beauty, grace, elegance and deep thought. They are NEVER negatives or symbols of clumsiness, stupidity or ugliness.”

Incredulous, Tyranny gestured at the herd and exclaimed, “Impossible! Just look at them!”

Jeremy had quietly joined them and said, “Yes, just look at them through THEIR EYES. Didn’t you know that the whole X'ibian first Empire was founded and carried on by dromedaries? Im Farst, whose tomb we are seeking, was a dromedary.

“His wife, the legendary Dragon Queen, named Wisdom, was actually a dragon, as the X'ibians understood such creatures. We hope to find out more about Wisdom herself, in the exploration of this tomb, assuming that we can find it.”

Tyranny, ears stinging from the multiple rebukes, snapped, “What about HER MAP? How could you fail to find it unless you are really stupid?” He pointed dramatically at Daring Do, who yawned.

Sehang Shu loftily informed him, “If you were a student, you would be removed from the class. I believe the term I want here is flunked.

“You were informed already that landmarks can change a great deal in three thousand years. You have failed to consider the information given you.”

Jeremy quietly added, “Besides, Doctor Do does not have a map. That was a conclusion that you jumped on and have accepted without question since. That is faulty reasoning that not even the military of any nation will accept. I am amazed that you, as a lawyer, would be guilty of such a basic failure of logic.”

Daring Do agreed, “I do not have a map. I do know how to find the tomb. It will not be easy. We must begin inside the Hong Wa.”

Overthrow cautiously inquired, “If the tomb is outside the city, why do we need to begin inside it?”

Robber acidly pointed out, “If Daring Do has no map, she has a chain of clues that begin inside the city somewhere, obviously.”

Sang He politely herded Daring Do away from the lawyers. “Doctor Do, your delayed noon meal is now ready. Why you would wish to associate with such low creatures as they is beyond me.”

Daring Do chided gently, “My friend, do not discriminate with them because they are ponies.”

“I did not. I have placed them in the station that they have earned by their behavior. We honor you and those you have brought, because you and they have earned our respect. Those back there have gone so far the other way that I am glad that we did not shoot.

“Scavengers are a needful part of the ecology of the desert. I would not wish to poison them with that creature’s carcass.”

<==Previous Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

#DARING DO AND THE ADVENTURE OF THE X'IBIAN VASE #part 17 of 21 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego

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mars-the-4th-planet · 5 years

Text

You should be quiet at the library.

Neo was peacefully reading a book about what types of ice cream redheads liked the most. She was for the most part minding her own business with Roman and team RWBY.

Weiss, of course, couldnt help but notice they were both girls who were ice-themed. "Hm.. Maybe if I made Ruby a little jealous, she wont spend so much time with that dumb robot?" Weiss thought. She was not happy about sharing Ruby, and wanted the dorky huntress all to herself. "If I teach Ruby how I feel, perhaps she will consider stopping the robophilia?"

So Weiss sidled up to Neo with her nafarious scheme in mind. She thought Neo was a good choice because with anybody else, she would have to convince them to go along with her plan. But Neo cant say no, right?

Weiss sat down next to her and flicked her hair, showing off her long beautiful hair. Neo smiled at her silently before going back to reading.

"Neo, thats your name right? How do we know its your name? Its not like you can tell us..."

Neo nodded.

"So it is your name?"

She nodded again.

"Ugh, why dont you just talk? This is silly."

Neo blushed a little and stopped smiling. She wanted to explain that she couldnt, but there was no notebook or anything she could write in.

"Come on. Just say 'hi Weiss'!"

Neo opened her mouth and gave an attempt, but the most she could do was made two soft exhaling noises. Then she looked even more embarrassed.

Weiss smiled. "Hey its okay, you tried your best. I think you are great, really! And you have an icy semblance just like me!"

Neo perked up a bit at that. She nodded and filled a cup with ice cream for Weiss.

"Aww, thats so sweet of you!"

Neo silently giggled.

"What? Oh. That was not intentional Neo!"

Neo giggled some more quiet as ever.

"Look, do I need to make you calm down? I know just how to do it." And with that Weiss placed her hand on Neos thigh and began slowly gliding her hand up her leg.

Neo frowned and shook her head quickly.

"Dont worry Neo, no one will see us~ and youll love it~" Weiss began fantasizing about how jealous Ruby waw going to be. This distracted her just a little.

POP!

Neo socked Weiss right in the face, forcing her to quit touching Neo where she did not wish to be touched.

"Owww!" Weiss curled up on the ground, holding her nose. "You jerk! RUBY! NEO HIT ME!"

There was the sound of a scythe piercing the wooden floor. "Im coming Weiss! Dont worry!" Ruby called out.

"Shh!" Blake said from somewhere.

Neo got very scared and waved her hands in front of her while shaking her head. Ruby was looking awfully mad, and Neo still did not have her umbrella back.

"How dare you hit my wife!" Ruby said angrily. Weiss blushed. "W-Wife...?"

Ruby prepared to charge, but Roman was not about to let anyone attack Neo. He sneakily raised Glendas riding crop, and blasted Ruby with it. Ruby tumbled away, knocking into a shelf and being covered in books.

"I said SHUSH!" Blake growled nearby.

"Sorry Red, I cant let you hurt Neo. I dont know why she hit Weiss, but I know she must have had a good reason."

Neo hugged him from the side.

"All I was trying to do was make Ruby jealous! She didnt have to hit me!"

"Whats that supposed to mean!"

"That is my line! Oh you thieving crook!"

"I cheat, lie, steal, and survive!"

"You wont be doing the last one much longerrrrrr!" Ruby called out, muffled under the books.

Neo tugged on Roman, pointed at Weiss, and showed him with her own hand what she was doing.

"Ruby, your "wife" was violating Neos boundaries!" Roman raised the riding crop again. "Dont try it! I will blast you again!" He added as Ruby pulled herself free from the mess.

"Weiss! Is this true?!"

Weiss looked down. "Yes... I just wanted you to see how I feel."

Sad music started playing and Ruby patted Weiss on the shoulder. "Its okay Weiss, I forgive you. I guess I have been spending a lot of time with Penny lately."

"I... I just worry because I can never compete with Penny..."

"I understand, Weiss. No one really can, but I love you too okay?"

"I love you too Ruby."

"Well ISNT THAT SWEET." Roman growled. "I think we are forgetting who the REAL victim is here. Not you two with your romance drama, not me with my roman-ce drama, but Neo!"

"Oh lighten up." Yang said, who was also there cuddling Blake who was trying to read and had given up on shushing people. "Weiss is a cute girl! I am sure lots of people would be happy to have her touch them like that."

"Thanks..." Weiss said, hugging Ruby. "And besides, she didnt say no!"

Neo did not agree. She thought it was never okay for someone to touch her without her making it clear she wanted them to. Regardless if they were a guy or girl.

"Okay, you know what? I think you girls dont even want us here!"

"We dont!" Ruby snapped. "I dont even like you!"

"Should we just leave?! Clearly we cannot get along!"

"Yes! Get out of here!"

So Neo and Torchwick left. And that is the story of how they escaped from the captivity from team RWBY.

#rwby

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luckyfaeth · 6 years

Note

Bemily headcanons for YouTuber au. please I’m begging you.

yuh

so emily has always been a fan of becsmadbeats’s mashups and remixes, but never really thought much of the person who made them except that they were probably pretty cool

because becsmadbeats keeps a super low profile with like no other social media

emily does a cover of one of their mashups and its great and to emily’s surprise, they actually comment on her video “sick job, dude” and emily’s like :D because she’s never seen them comment on other people’s covers of their mashups

chloe and emily are both subscribed to stacie because they like her makeup stuff

chloe texts emily one day: “hey didnt you do a cover of a becsmadbeats mix?”

“yeah why?”

“apparently stacie and them are roommates. beca is in her latest vlog” *cough* oh my god they were roommates

it’s a really like casual video of just stacie bugging beca (which becomes a series lovingly titled Bothering Beca) but stace gets beca to talk about their mixes and stuff for a bit and emily’s like oh dang....they cute....

some time passes and over that period of time, stacie and chloe became friends because they met at vidcon and hit it off and just started talking about how much they love each others’ channels

one day chloe is like “hey emily, im taking a trip to new york, and while im there stacie and i are gonna do a couple of videos together. she said you could come too if you want!”

and emily’s like “omg yes!” so they pack their bags and fly up and stacie picks them up from the airport and when they walk in to the apartment, emily hears distinct music blasting and stacie rolls her eyes and is like “sorry thats just beca. theyre probably in the shower” to which stacie walks to the bathroom and bangs on the door and yells “HEY ASSHOLE TURN THE MUSIC DOWN WE HAVE GUESTS”

“shut UP at least im SHOWERING”

((also just like a steca brotp sidenote, stacie is very protective of beca and will correct people on their pronouns))

beca finally emerges while the rest of them are in the middle of filming and emily is like :o ! and stacie and chloe both see emily like staring at beca and they look at each other like hmmmm!!

stacie makes beca join in on the video and she’s surprised when beca agrees and is actually like ? talkative ? and fairly interactive ??

they go out to eat and while theyre out emily’s like “hey beca we should totally do something together like you could do some cool stuff with your launchpad and i have my guitar and omg it could be cool!”

and beca is like “sure dude”

chloe and stacie film another video while beca teaches emily all about her mixing stuff and bemily is talking and laughing and cute

chloe has her eyes closed so stacie can do her eye makeup and shes like “stacie what is that noise” “oh its just beca and emily pretending like theyre not flirting”

beca, from a distance: HEY!

beca trying to teach emily how something works but emily is just staring at her and becs is like “ok you got that dude?” “huh? oh ! uh, no.”

anyway when emily and chloe have to leave, emily and beca are both sad they have to separate and emily’s like “hey! you should give me your number!”

“uh ..”

“that way we can stay in contact and like, collab more or something! plus i have a bunch of song ideas that would be great for mashups if you wanted to use them!”

anyway they talk like every day after that and this is to be continued !!

#bemily #youtuber au #headcanons #i literally love them so much #i love this au so much #waneandwax #ask

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ouransisters · 3 years

Text

Before I start venting just letting yall know to not interact with this. I just need to scream into the void and get my thoughts out.

And trigger warnings? Um idk what to use so a quick summary. Arguments, chair breaking, going to a hotel, and reminiscing on a similar hotel with my dad (who i no longer talk to)

I was on my room after dinner and heard some yelling from my stepdad. He has a short temper and definitely needs therapy. Well it turned into him purposefully misgendering my sister and things spiraling out of control

I dont know exactly what happened, but while my mom was trying to calm him down he ended up knocking over shit and breaking a chair. I hate how familiar this all feels. It wasn't even a year ago that I finally cut ties with my dad

So now we're in a hotel, which is probably more of a motel. There's a minifridge though which is nice. Me and my sister have been joking around about the motels our dad used to live in. Seems like we both have the same unhealthy coping mechanism.

Right after we joked about mold being in the shower and if I would still be the only one to not get sick, she checked and there is was. We laughed for a bit. But dads motel didn't have a fridge. We would have to leave the milk outside to keep it cold. My mom drove us here in her car, but back then we would run across busy intersections with my dad to get groceries

I wonder if we'll have the meat of the week again. You can be surprised how long you can make chicken and rice last. Anything can taste good when its the only thing to eat.

The lock on the door is pretty similar. The TV is a tiny bit bigger, but I probably already know the channels. The desk is a little smaller than it should be, and the chair isn't stuck in its place. The beds are on the wrong side of the room, but they're the same size

They still use those white sheets that you know aren't as clean as they look

The pandemic doesn't matter all that much in here. The alcohol wipes felt like a formality. I wonder if I'll twist my ankle here

Life has a funny way of repeating. There's that low buzzing noise that almost feels like home

The sounds of people who should turn their music down and the roads. I feel like I should be studying for a spelling quiz

It seems like no matter what my mom has shitty tastes in men. I cant believe I was considering calling him dad.

There are a million ways he's better than my dad, but there's a million ways he's just like him. Cant believe it took this long to see it.

I havent seen my girlfriend in almost 7 months. I miss her. I want to spend a few weeks there. Don't really care that her grandmother keeps getting exposed anymore. She's had two direct contacts, but life is so fucked up.

I just want to be in the arms of the one person I know wouldn't treat me like this. The person who wouldn't let me treat them like this. I want to hug her and cry. I miss her so much

Back in July I went to my aunts funeral while he was in Disney world. I dont know why that feels relevant, but it does. I covered for him at his sister's funeral

I'm just tired of it all. I dont want to die, but I want to get away. I want to be far away from all of this bullshit. I want to live in a cozy place with my girlfriend and our cats, the only neighbors being the people we trust

This is going to be a major setback mentally. Progress isn't linear and damn am I being reminded of it. Im watching a livestream and afterwards I'll blast some music. Hope my sister doesn't mind music blaring from my headphones. We have to share the same bed here. Just like old times

I joked about it being a narrative circle, but its kinda true. Similar events but at a different stage of my life. I hope I can get my degree soon and get a job. I want to move in with my girlfriend

I think im done for now. Ive cried enough and I need to save some water for tomorrow. You don't trust the taps in these places without a pandemic. Dont like how dry my mouth is though

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topugonfuckmegood-blog · 7 years

Text

Back to the Beginning( Don't tell him part three)

Pairing: Tyler/ Reader, Josh/ Reader Warnings: Smut, Bondage, Wax, Slight name calling, Surprises,Daddy kink(slight), Choking(slight) Cliff hangers(you’re welcome) Rating: Mature A/N: HAHA READ IT AND WEEP(please don’t stop reading the series, this isn’t what it seems.)

You got into your car and started your long drive to work. It had been officially two weeks since you and both of the boys had been together as a trio, and things were going perfectly, or so you thought. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when your phone buzzes and alerts you of a new text. You look over and see Tyler’s icon come up, and wait for a red light to check it. Once you pick it up and see it, you read what it says and immediately turn your car around to head to his place. The text said there was a big emergency and he needed you to be there asap. You make sure to call your boss and let them know you can’t come in, and park your car in the boys driveway. You run inside, using your key, and walk in to see Tyler sitting casually on the couch. “Tyler, what’s wrong?!” You yell. He looks up at you calmly and smiles. “I just wanted to see you..” he mumbled, standing up and crossing the floor over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist and you glare into his eyes, trying to calm yourself down. “Tyler, you’re a fucking idiot. I thought you or Josh might’ve been hurt” you say, trying to get out of his arms. He doesn’t loosen his grip, only holds you tighter. “I’m sorry baby, I just…I missed you, I miss our little dates we used to have her..” he says, looking around the apartment. You sigh and can’t help but feel saddened by Tyler’s words. “I thought you were okay with all of this. It was your idea..” you say, looking up into his big brown eyes. He looks back into yours and bites down on his lip, hard. “I know. I just wanted you to be happy and he had stuff to offer you that I didn’t..I just miss being alone with you, watching movies with you, having you strip for me..” he starts to mumble his words softly into your ear. “Watching you dance for me, fucking the lights out of you, tying you down” You cut him off. “Then let’s do it” He looks at you questioningly. “What do you mean?”// “For tonight only, let’s go back to how it was. You can tie me down, I’ll dance for you. We’ll go back to how things were without Josh, just for tonight.” You say, kissing along his neck. He lets out a loud groan and tips his head back, giving you better access. You feel him let out hums when you realize you're making a mark. You pull away and he moves his lips onto yours, slowly moving you up to carry you upstairs. On the way up, Tyler rips off all of your clothes and throws them lazily around before dropping you onto the bed. He pulls off his shirt when he walks over to the familiar dresser, and pulls out the old ropes and ties. You smirk as he walks over and ties your first wrist to the headboard, and then the next. Tyler takes a blindfold and ties it around your eyes. You feel him move away and hear a click sound, not even a moment later you feel a stinging sensation on your stomach, and are quickly realizing it’s candle wax. You inhale sharply, feeling the familiar rushing feeling in the pit of your stomach. He starts to write something with the wax. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, and traces his finger over it. You aren’t sure what it says, but Tyler wipes it away and moves back up to kiss you. He starts sliding down his pants and massages your breast. He slides his underwear off, and aims himself, thrusting in slowly. Once he feels you’re fully adjusted, he thrusts into you, harder. You groan against him and struggle against your restraints, just wanting to touch him. He chuckles at your obvious discomfort and interlocks his fingers with yours, leaning down to be able to go deeper inside of you. With his new angle, he was hitting you in all of the right spots, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out his name. He continues to talk dirty to you, starting to push you over the edge, when suddenly. “Hey, Ty, where are you?” You and Tyler both start whisper yelling, and you hear Tyler pull on all of his clothes. “Okay, babe, you wait here, and I’ll be back” he says, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, completely exposed. Meanwhile, downstairs. “Hey, Josh, what are you doing here?” Tyler asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Josh looks up at the boy and smiles. “Well, (Y/N) is at work right now. So I thought maybe we could do something special for her when she gets back?” Josh suggests, already placing bags in the kitchen. Tyler starts biting his nail and looks at Josh, sighing. He had to admit, it was hit for him to think about you, tied up, naked, and waiting for him. Maybe he should make you wait. “What were you thinking?” Tyler asks, opening the bags. “I thought we could make her food and then watch a movie and…You know” Josh says, laughing at himself. Tyler smirks, loving the fact that you were up there. “Well, we both know I’m the better cook of us two, so you can look through the movies while I cook?” Tyler says. Josh nods and goes to Tyler’s living room. Tyler starts blasting the music and Josh chuckles, flipping through the movies. Josh lifts his head when he hears a slight noise, but looks away. But when he looked down, he saw a bra. Your bra. And the rest of your clothes that Tyler left laying around. He clenches his jaw and stands up. “Ty, I have to go the bathroom” Josh says, Tyler doesn’t respond, probably with how loud his music was. He clears his throat and starts walking up the stairs, and heads to Tyler’s room, assuming you’d be there. He sees you and feels rage, but also becomes very turned on by the sight of you just laying there, waiting, wanting. You hear the movement and the music, and think Tyler was coming back up to finish, and turned on the music so Josh wouldn’t hear. You hear the sound of pants coming off and more shifting, and smile. “Coming back to finish, huh?” You ask. You inhale sharply when you feel a cold finger running along the burn from the wax. You try and see through your blindfold, but you can’t. It doesn��t take long for you to feel yourself being stretched out again, but it felt different. Your thoughts are cleared when he starts thrusting in faster. “T-tyler” you let out, pulling at the restraints.“Call me daddy” says a whisper. You bite your lip and start screaming Daddy to him, encouraging him to go faster. He grabs something from the table and you hear it start vibrating. He grabs one of your hips to be able to hit harder, and starts rubbing the vibrator onto your clit. “God, Daddy, yes” you say. You feel yourself reaching your end, and you can tell ‘Tyler’ is also about to from the grunts they’re letting out. You feel his hand reach up and wrap around your neck, squeezing, and completely sending you over the edge. The sounds you let out are vulgar and choked, and you feel the warmness entering you as well.“I don’t appreciate you calling out my best friend’s name while I’m fucking you” he says. Josh. He lifts the blindfold and you’re at a loss for words. For some reason, it was hot to you. “And slut, that’s a new one” Josh says. You look confused until he points at your stomach and you realize that’s what Tyler had burned into you. You laugh softly and shrug. That’s when you hear the clearing of a throat. “So, this is the second time I’ve walked in on you two. I’m thinking you just want to be caught” he says, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning against the doorframe. Josh mumbles some curse words and pulls his underwear on, yet no one makes any attempt to untie you. You groan. “Tyler, I thought Josh was you..” you say. Tyler looks at Josh. “Did you fuck her and not even tell her it was you?” Josh doesn’t say anything. “Dude, that’s so fucked. And you knew I was downstairs?!” Josh finally stands. “Ty, you decided to take her for yourself in the first place! It was supposed to be all of us or at least we were supposed to let each other know something was happening!” Josh yells back. Tyler sees you sitting quietly and unties you. You pull the cover over yourself and start biting your nail, not knowing what to say or do. “Maybe this was a mistake.” You say, loud enough for them to hear. The three of you sit in silence. Tyler mumbled something, but no one heard. “What?” You ask. “I agree, tonight started as my fault” he begins. “Tyler…”//“Let me finish. I think tonight was just a mess, but (Y/N), this wasn’t a mistake. At least, not for me. I think…..” He starts mumbling again. “What?” You ask again. Whatever was said, Josh heard it when you didn’t, and he looked pissed. “I said. Marry me” (THATS WHERE IM ENDING IT BUT GET READY FOR THE NEXT PART OML)ki

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ask-de-writer · 6 years

Text

Daring Do and the Adventure of the X'ibian Vase : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 17 of 21

This link leads to the whole tale

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Daring Do

and the Adventure of the X'ibian Vase!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

And

Carmen Pondiego

Cover Art by

Doctor Dimension

52630 words

Writing begun 08/26/15

//////////////

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Robber and Overthrow were scanning the two passes that the maps showed as the only approaches to ancient Hong Wa. Their binoculars showed only narrow, stony notches with no vegetation at all.

“Any luck, Robber?”

“No. It is hard to be sure of details with all the heat shimmering but nothing the size of a dromedary has showed up at all. I wonder if something has happened to them?”

Tyranny was crouched behind one of the MT81 quick fire cannon, pretending to aim and fire up the gorges.

Robber agreed glumly as he sweated under the merciless X'ibian sun. “I would have given up. I can’t. If this does not work, we are bankrupt. I don’t want to start over from nothing.”

Overthrow sat on a stone and asked, “Taken up mind reading, Robber? Those are my thoughts, exactly.”

Tyranny was laughing in a twisted fantasy. “Just wait until they show their heads! These guns will tear them to shreds!”

Robber stepped up behind Tyranny and pulled him away from the weapon. “Fine! Blow them to pieces! THEN HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND THE TOMB?”

“Daring Do must not be harmed. SHE it very sure that she has solved the problem. She is not the only one. BOTH Celestia and Luna are backing her expedition. THEY are sure that she is right.”

The bits and chunks of rock flying from the ridge told of bad aim. He was not even hitting near the crest where his opponents had to be.

There was another shot from the ridge! Robber aimed and fired. His gun blasted once and clicked. His ammunition box was empty. He raised his hooves and stood well back from the useless MT81.

Seven dromedaries under arms, accompanied by two ponies with rifles and one horse with a wicked looking sword came up and seized the three.

Robber shrugged, “Not a lot that I could do to stop him, in time. He was 'playing’ gunner when the first shot was fired. I knocked him off the gun as swiftly as I could.