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ladykailitha · 11 months

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Royal Pain Part 3

Hello! I was going to post this yesterday but I thought I would be busier for WIP Wednesday which only two people participated in (sad author noises). And then I was waffling about putting up a meta about Steve’s parents (I ended up just saving it in my ‘bit of everything’ file). And then I realized it was super late and should put this up before I forget again.

This next part is for @weirdandabsurd42 who mentioned being excited to see Wayne and was thusly added (because I almost forgot to put him there, oops!), thereby creating one of my favorite lines I’ve ever written so...thanks!

Part 1 Part 2

***

Steve closed up his shop with a spring in his step and a grumpy Robin following behind.

“I can’t believe you are dragging me to a metal concert,” she groused as she locked the door behind her.

“You don’t have to come,” Steve said with a grin. “You can stay home on a Saturday, all by yourself with a pint of ice cream and the latest rom-com.”

Robin glared at him. “You know that I have to come with you so you don’t throw yourself at Eddie.”

Steve rolled his eyes as they walked to his car. “I’m not going to throw myself at him.”

Robin clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh that’s right I forgot! You already have!”

Steve glared at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” she asked, sliding into the car. “So what do you call offering to do his back tattoo?”

Steve already in the car, hit his head on his steering wheel. “Fucccckkkk.” He hit it over and over. “Why did I do that? Why did he agree? What am I going to do?”

Robin rubbed his back. “I think this is good thing for you. If you do well on his wings then you can start doing large pieces again. And if not, then you know it’s not something you can do and you’ll never do another one ever again.”

Steve sighed and wrapped his arms around the steering wheel. “I just wanted him to like me.”

“As person, as friend or as a boyfriend?” Robin asked seriously.

“All of the above?” Steve said raising his head to look at her. “Apparently the first one has been met. I’d take the second one, but I would love the last one more than anything.”

“Well this weekend will be a great opportunity to test the waters and see how he feels. Because even if he wants to be friends now, there’s still a chance he might want something more in the future. Just don’t bank on it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay.” He turned the key and pulled out of their parking lot.

“This would be a good time to get a couple of apprentices of your own,” she said after a few miles of silence. “You’re going to be spending a lot of hours on Eddie’s tattoo and you’re going to need someone to pick up the slack.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh. “I know. I’ll start putting out feelers in the community and see what’s out there.”

Robin nodded. “We’ll put up filers at the local colleges and universities as well as putting it up on our website. I’ll talk to Will and see what he can come up with for both.”

“I know he’ll turn it down but offer him the usual rates for that sort of thing,” Steve agreed.

Robin laughed. “Fingers crossed he’ll accept this time.”

Eddie walked into his apartment and flopped face first into his couch. It had been such a whirlwind day. He wasn’t even sure he could function. That really was the downside to having a full time gig. Having all this free time.

Because yeah, Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin practiced nearly every day, and they were always coming up with new music, it just wasn’t the same as full time job. He didn’t have to do anything but show up and perform two nights a week. He could phone it in if he wanted.

Not that he would. Just...that he could. Which meant on days when his head was spiraling he could stew for days and never leave this couch.

He rolled over and pulled out his phone and dialed that familiar number.

“Munson residence!” came the gruff familiar voice.

“When are you going to at least get a caller ID, old man!” Eddie crowed.

“Shut it, boy,” Wayne growled. “I have one and it works just fine, the greeting is polite. Something I thought I raised you better in.”

Eddie giggled. “You love me.”

“Lord help me, but I do,” Wayne agreed. “You calling to talk or to listen?”

It was something that they had established long before Eddie left Hawkins to live on his own in the big city. Long before before Eddie took three years to graduate. Long before Al Munson abandoned his son on his baby brother’s door step for one last job. A job that would land him in prison. They had this code. Well, not really a code.

Just this thing between them. When Eddie had a rough day, he would call Wayne. But depending on the swirling of emotions going through his head, sometimes he just need to hear Wayne talk about his day. Gossip about his neighbors. Let the words flow over him until he felt at ease enough to go to sleep.

Other nights, though. The really bad ones. The ones where Eddie needed advice, he would talk. Sometimes Eddie would figure it out on his own, other times he would need Wayne to give him advice. This was one of those nights.

“Talk,” Eddie breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wha’cha got, Ed?” Wayne asked gently.

And Eddie just let it all spill out. The tattoos, Steve, the band, feeling like they had stagnated.

“That’s a lot on your plate, boy,” Wayne said. “I can see why you wanted to share.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “I don’t know what to do about...well any of it to be honest.”

Wayne hummed. “When was the last time you went out and did something fun? Something for just yourself? And don’t say get a tattoo because that’s part of the tangled mess right now.”

Eddie blinked. When was the last time he had gone out for drinks, saw a movie, or even listened to music other than his own? “I’m not sure.”

“Well there you go,” Wayne said. “Creativity isn’t endless, boy. It’s a well and you’re going through a drought because you aren’t taking in any influences other then that feedback loop you’re on.”

“Oh.”

“It doesn’t have to be with your friends or even that boy you’ve got your eye on,” Wayne explained. “Just go out and have fun for yourself, ya hear?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, already feeling lighter. “Thanks, Uncle Wayne.”

“Rest well, okay?” Wayne murmured.

“You too.”

Jeff shook his head and rolled his eyes as he watched Eddie play with his rings, his knee bouncing up and down.

“Chill!” Gareth growled. “For fuck’s sake. We are professionals, we’ve done this twice a week for years. What’s got your panties in a twist this time?”

Jeff wagged his eyebrows. “This time pretty boy Steve Harrington is going to be in the crowd. With a girl no less.”

“She’s gay,” Eddie bit out. “A literal flaming lesbian. I just have to pass the best friend test with her. And considering she wanted me to get his number, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to work that hard.”

“I noticed you didn’t deny that you’re nervous about Pretty Boy being in the audience tonight,” Brian teased.

Eddie threw up his hands in the air and leapt to his feet. “All right, yeah. I’m nervous. Even when I did have boyfriends that would show up, I knew they liked the music. But I have no idea if Steve is just being nice or if he’s actually interested in hearing us play.”

Jeff cocked his head. “Yeah, I can see how you might be worried he won’t like it. But if he doesn’t, isn’t better you know that now, before your feelings get in too deep?”

Eddie’s lip quivered. “Yes. I mean, of course. But it still makes me feel like crawling out of my skin, okay?”

“Okay,” Gareth said. “So do what you do best and throw yourself into the music. Let it wash over you. You are a consummate performer. So kick ass.”

Eddie nodded and the nod slowly turned into a head bang with him playing air guitar. By the time the knock came to let them know it was time, Eddie was ready to go out there and rock.

Steve hadn’t been to The Nightmare Holes before. It hadn’t even been on his radar at all. That was so weird, especially since it was almost literally doors down from Robin and his favorite club.

Well that was until they were dropped off in front of a large concrete building that didn’t look like a bar from the outside at any stretch of the imagination. In fact the only thing that stuck out at all was a neon sign with a large arrow pointing to a set of stairs leading down proclaiming this to be The Nightmare Holes.

When they got into the bar, Steve realized that they were going to stick out like a sore thumb. With Steve looking prep and Robin looking punk, they were going to be murdered before Eddie even got on stage.

They were saved by a goddess if you believed Robin later. This pretty woman in a tank top and tight leather pants with four inch heeled boots came up to them.

“Hey!” she greeted warmly. “You must be Stevie, right?”

Steve nodded. “I’m afraid you’re one up on me. You know me, but I don’t know you.”

She smiled much to Robin’s chagrin. “I’m Miranda, girlfriend of the rhythm guitarist, Jeff Lawrence. He was worried that Eddie might have forgotten to tell you that wearing your usual clothes might make you stand out.” She waved her hands at them. Both Robin and Steve blushed. “You aren’t too bad actually. I was think you would be much worse the way Jeff was going on.”

“He only saw us at work,” Robin explained once she picked her jaw up off the ground. “He might have assumed that we wear that on the regular.”

Miranda nodded. “You can do this one of two ways. Stay dressed as you are as big middle finger to conformity no matter who’s conforming to what or you come with me and I can tweak your looks enough that you don’t stand out as much.”

Steve looked down at his clothes and tilted his head. “I think I’m going to give conformity the middle finger, thanks. I’ve been bucking what people think a tattoo artist should look like for years. I’m not going to change that for one little concert.”

Miranda nodded appreciatively. “Good on you. How about you, princess? You gonna give conformity the middle finger, too?”

Robin looked down at her clothes and blushed. “I think most metalheads would say a punk is being a step too far.”

Miranda laughed. “You’re probably right. Let’s go see if I can metal you up a bit.”

The two ladies came back a few minutes later. Robin still had her chunky jewelry and smudged makeup. But her billowy plaid pants were replaced by tight black jeans and instead of her vest, she wore a black jacket. Her hair had been tamed to a more relaxed style.

Steve grinned at her. “Looking good, Robs!”

Robin blushed. “I made a new friend.”

Miranda laughed. “Thanks for that.” She looked around and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Just a little secret between us new besties.”

Steve and Robin shared a glance, but both nodded.

“I don’t like metal music, either,” she whispered and winked. She turned around so she faced the stage. “But I’m here because my Jeffie does. So if you don’t like the music, because hey, you might not, don’t sweat it. They put on a good show and we’re here for them.” She jutted her chin up at the stage just as the house lights went down and the stage lights went up.

Standing the spotlight was Eddie. He wore a slashed up band shirt, tight jeans, and his leather jacket. A jacket Steve was about to learn wasn’t going to feature long. About twenty minutes into the show, the jacket was gone and Steve could see a peek of the new tattoo through the slits in the shirt.

He licked his lips slowly. Ooh...that was tantalizing. And then Eddie threw caution and his shirt to the wind and everyone saw Eddie’s new tattoo.

Robin turned to Steve wide-eyed. “Holy shit, it blends seamlessly into the rest of the tattoos, like it was there first.”

Miranda peered around Robin to look at Steve, too. “Yeah, man. You did a hell of a job. You should be proud of that.”

Steve was. No doubt. But he was prouder of the fact that Eddie wanted everyone to see it. It melted his heart and settled at the base of his spine, like he had drank a cup of hot chocolate all at once.

And that was when Steve realized he would do anything for Eddie. Even if that meant just being friends.

***

My new favorite line? * “Lord help me, but I do,” Wayne agreed. “You calling to talk or to listen?” * It’s just so...Wayne, you know?

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #tattoo artist steve #ladykailtiha writes

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goldenempyrean · 1 year

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Can you do one with sick kate bishop × reader with the prompts "can I have a hug?" And "you're shaking" please

The Comfort of a Hug

〚 Notes - I was meant to post this yesterday but I forgot! oops! 〛

〚 Pairing- Kate Bishop x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Kate comes home from work sick but luckily she has you (and Lucky) to take care of her. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 640 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Kate trudged through the front door of her apartment, her body feeling heavy and weak. She had just finished a long day at work, but it wasn't the workload that had left her feeling so drained. No, it was the creeping sickness that had been building up inside her over the past few days. At first, she had tried to ignore it, telling herself that it was just a minor cold that would pass quickly. But as the day wore on, her symptoms had only grown worse. Now, as she stumbled through her living room, she knew that she couldn't keep pushing herself any longer. Her body had reached its limit, and she was about to pay the price for ignoring it.

“Katie?” Your familiar voice called out from somewhere within the apartment, hearing no response, you finished drying up the dish you’d been washing and came out into the open living room to see her weakly rubbing a crumpled tissue against her red nose.

"Oh baby, you look terrible," you gasped a little, rushing to her side to place your palm against her slightly clammy forehead. "You’re really warm princess."

Kate only mumbled something in response, and you frowned. You knew that she tended to push herself too hard, not really knowing when to take a break and you couldn’t help but think that her being out in the chilly, rainy weather all day hadn’t served to help her condition much either. Lucky, her dog, had seemed to notice the increase in noise and padded out into the room, coming to the shivering girl’s side and nuzzling against her leg in an instance.

“Can I have a hug?” She finally whispered, the state of her croaky voice shocking you a little.

“Of course, you can sweetie, come here baby.” You nodded, pulling her close towards you, instantly noticing how damp she was. You continued to hold her close, rocking on your heels a little as she sniffled against your shoulder.

“Let’s get you out of these damp clothes, you’re shaking a little.” You nudged her gently, coaxing her out of your hold, “I finished some laundry today, so I think your favourite purple fuzzy ones are clean again, do you want to wear those?”

Kate nodded weakly, still sniffling as she stumbled towards the bedroom. You followed closely behind, taking note of how she moved slowly, like every step was a struggle. Once inside, you helped her out of her wet clothes, and then helped her into the cosy pyjamas you had mentioned earlier. As you tucked her into bed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for her. You knew how stubborn she could be, and you didn't want her to get even more sick by not taking care of herself.

"Can I get you anything, love?" You asked softly, as you brushed her hair out of her face.

"Just some water, please," Kate croaked out, her voice sounding more strained than ever.

You nodded and quickly went to grab her a glass of water, bringing it back to her bedside. She took a few sips, her eyes closing with relief as the cool liquid slid down her throat.

"Thank you," she murmured softly, her eyes flickering open to meet yours.

"Of course, anything for you," you replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before standing up to leave the room. "I'll make you some soup, and then I'll come back to check on you. Try to get some rest, okay?"

Kate nodded weakly, already feeling herself drifting off to sleep with Lucky curled up closely at her feet. As you left the room, she couldn't help but feel grateful for your care and attention. Even though she was feeling terrible, she knew that with you by her side, she would be able to get through it.

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @ceiestiaie @kljhsong @santana1437 @lovelyy-moonlight @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop #kate bishop fanfic #kate bishop sickfic #sick!kate bishop x reader #sick!kate bishop #kate bishop fluff #marvel #marvel sickfic #avengers sickfic #avengers #mcu

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delta-orionis · 3 months

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(Belated) Tuesday Again No Problem 3/12/24

A day late, oops. (To be fair I had this all typed out yesterday but I forgot to hit publish...)

Listening

Still listening to the Rain World soundtrack incessantly. I feel like there’s usually one or two video game soundtracks that will dominate an entire year of my life, and Rain World’s OST is definitely filling that spot for 2024.

youtube

(Someone in the comments of this song pointed out that it sounds like a cover of Dust by M|O|O|N, and they’re right. My god.)

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Reading

Fallow. 😔

I keep bringing Ancillary Justice with me to work in the hopes that I’ll be able to find time to read it and then I never do. Perhaps I need to re-think my book reading strategy...

Watching

Speaking of the Rain World ost, I recently watched this video discussing the different music tracks and where they occur in the game (which was pretty interesting because despite listening to the soundtrack so much, I couldn’t remember where a lot of the songs actually played).

youtube

I also watched the most recent episode of Journey to the Microcosmos, which is about sea slugs!!!

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The video also shouted out a website that I’ve encountered many times while looking for info about sea slugs, seaslugforum.net!!! The forum is no longer active, but the website is still up and all the old posts are still readable. It’s a wonderful little treasure trove of sea slug facts that maintains that more humble mid-2000’s website design.

Playing

Still fallow…

Making

I finished that tote bag I was making for a family member.

It’s meant to be attached to a walker, and it has extra ties on the side to help fasten it. I used this pattern.

I’m also working on my Five Pebbles amigurumi again. I’m almost done, I just need to finish sewing all his parts together (which is admittedly my least favorite part of any amigurumi project). Then I can start working on Looks to the Moon! Moon will hopefully be a bit easier, because making Pebbles was a lot of trial and error- I wasn't following a pattern, and he's also the biggest amigurumi I've made to date, so I had to experiment a bit.

...

Thanks for reading! I'll check in again next week!

#tuesday again no problem #tuesdayposting

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videogames-i-wish-were-real · 5 months

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Sorry for not posting yesterday! Life's been a bit hectic and while a part of me knew it was Wednesday... I completely forgot I was supposed to post, oops. I used to have a backlog of queued viwwrs back when I started this blog, but ever since... August it ran out and I've been writing them the very day they are meant to be posted, so I knew this was bound happen eventually.

Anyway, there will be a new post on Saturday! And friendly reminder that this blog accepts submissions

#oppy talks

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darsynia · 7 months

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The heart wants what it wants...

Gosh, so I've been writing for a nearly 30 year old fandom, the book/tv show Christy. I was a huge Kellie Martin fan from Life Goes On, and I'd liked the book (evangelical childhood go brrr)-- lemme tell you, Scottish-voiced older smart gruff man & idealistic kind resourceful opinionated young woman will ALWAYS get me. Add LeVar Burton and Tyne Daly and I'm HOOKED. OH I forgot to mention it's set in the Great Smokies and the vistas are magnificent (TWW reference says hi).

Well, the show itself has a religious scaffolding, and it's pretty wholesome, so though the series manages some truly intense unresolved sexual tension, I should refrain from getting too racy in this 'it was a crime to never show these two kissing' 'shipping Neil/Christy for 30 years does something to a person' story, right? RIGHT?

Me: I'll write a brief satisfying M encounter

Me now: he's soaked after checking for a fire in a thunderstorm and she's slowly unbuttoning him while he loses his mind OOPS

Anyway, I'm putting the finishing touches on Shipping chapter 3, but if you ever watched this show or might be interested in a period piece where two people with hidden feelings find themselves married and figuring out what fun that can be, feel free to check out that story! It's got a tiny online presence (under 200 fics on FFN, my fic was #7 on AO3) so I probably won't post again about it, but I'm very pleased by what I've written.

Breathing Fire

Summary: After an unexpected standoff puts Christy in a compromised position, she discovers what a marriage based on love and friendship is really like. With that firm basis, she seeks to heal the wounds that were caused before she even arrived in Cutter Gap.

For fun, here's an excerpt under the jump:

Note: Set the day after the wedding, but their 'wedding night' was interrupted; Neil is a doctor and he was called away for a medical emergency. He hasn't gotten much sleep as a result.

When she woke next it was thanks to the bright indirect sunlight from the window. She’d slept in.

Christy threw herself out of bed, spluttering her hair out of her face as she rushed over to the dresser to grab something to wear.

“Christy,” Neil rumbled from the bed. He had his arm draped over his eyes.

“I’m late for school!”

“You’re not.”

“No, I am! Miss Alice was supposed to take my place, but she was with you.” She supposed she could dress on the other side of the closet door, or at the top of the stairs with the bedroom door closed. When she turned around with a handful of underthings, meaning to race over to the closet and do just that, she ran right into Neil.

“Grantland got back yesterday evening, he’s teaching your students today,” he said, tugging the clothes from her hands to set them on top of the dresser. “Back to bed,” he said, guiding her back with an arm around her shoulders.

Sleepy Neil was a charming mix of impatience and determination.

“But David has no idea where the lesson plans are!”

“He’ll probably spend the whole day sermonizing at them,” he said once they got over to the bed. Neil then yawned so hard he stumbled sideways before shuffling around to the other side.

Christy sat, her sense of purpose deflated. “Is there anything you were supposed to do this morning that I can do instead? Dropping by a patient’s house, or picking up supplies?”

“No one will expect us for days,” he told her, rubbing at his eye with a knuckle. “We’re meant to spend them enjoying each other, which right now should mean you, sleeping next to me, in silence.” There was a daring sort of tease to his voice that sent a thrill through her. How was she meant to sleep after he said something like that?

“I’m wide awake. How about I go downstairs and--”

“Don’t,” Neil blurted. He took in a breath to say something, then chuckled. “Not sure how well I’d sleep knowing you were down there rearranging everything.”

“Meaning you’d sleep better if I stayed up here?” Christy guessed.

His expression sobered, and he rolled onto his back. “I keep expecting to wake up and find all of this was a dream.”

If she were braver, she would have told him about her dreams of him, but instead, she said, “How about I go get a book to read, so I can sit up beside you, while you sleep? I can pull the curtains shut.”

His nod was relieved, and Christy got up, thinking hard to remember where she’d packed her book. It wasn’t with the others, since she’d been reading it a little each night. A glance over at her husband told her he was still ruminating.

“Ask me what I’m reading,” Christy said, crouching down to rummage through the front pocket of one suitcase.

“What?”

“It’s part of distracting you while I look for my book,” she told him. Standing, she put her hands on her hips. Was it downstairs?

“Fine,” Neil said, his voice still sleepy, but more like his confident self. “What are you reading?”

“Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. It’s a story about four sisters, all very different, and how each of them handle the process of growing up. I loved it when I was younger, and now I’m rereading it to pick out parts to share with the children.” As she spoke, she found the book, drew the curtain, then came back to briskly set things up to sit comfortably beside him.

“You’re an excellent teacher, Christy.”

Praise from him really was worth a hundred kind words from anyone else.

#yes there is forced proximity in this story #christy huddleston #neil macneill #christy huddleston x neil macneill #my true loves are apparently all in 90s tv lol #darsy twirls all her favorite things in romance #thanks to the RP accounts from whom I have borrowed the gifs!#dixie carter is in it too! and a bunch of other amazing actors like WHAT #and the scenery is truly gorgeous!

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myinventoryisfull · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday Game

WHOOPS I meant to do this yesterday but forgot >_>;; anyway, thanks for the tag @fluffleforce Y'all are gonna be disappointed in me because my file names are usually actually titles oops

Here’s how it woks:

* In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

* Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

* After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

* That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

Boy Monster Part 1

As the tavern door swung open, the scent of horse and perspiration wafted in. It drifted over the sour smell of beer and mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat, drawing Dimo's attention away from his rotund and shaggy-haired companion. was animatedly retelling tales of past conquests to anyone who would listen.

Then the whimpering came, and Dimo twisted in his seat to see exactly who it was that wanted people to think they were dying.

A young man, thirteen – fifteen at the most and that was being generous - staggered into the tavern, his long ginger hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. It might have been neat and proper at one point, but now stray hairs stuck out at every angle while limp bangs dangled in his face, barely brushing over a splatter of freckles that dusted his cheeks. The collar of his too white shirt that was just starting to develop sweat stains hung open, exposing his flushed pale collar bones, and black boots that would have been polished until they gleamed like the night if it wasn't for the layer of mud caked around the soles.

In a tavern full of Jaegers and stout humans in weather worn clothing, the boy stood out like a vein of gold in a coal mine. One of the local nobles slumping in to slum it with the peasantry; a minor act of rebellion, no doubt.

Feelings I Can't Fight

"Maxim, does this mean you <i>bought</i> one of his CDs?" she asked accusingly, shoving the CD into his face and waving it around as if trying to ensure that he saw and acknowledged its existence. As if he could ignore it when Dimo's phone number and <i>hotel room number</i> were right there, staring at him tauntingly.

"Enough!" Maxim bellowed, elbowing Zeetha out of his way and pulling his shirt off over his head as he moved further into his apartment. His jeans followed suit shortly afterwards, and Maxim chucked his work clothes into a hamper before digging into his closet for something that didn't smell like sweat and coffee. "Hy chust got home from vurk, und hy wants to eat food und not think!"

And now his accent was starting to come through. If Maxim wasn't frustrated before, he was now, and he pulled his hair free from its bun with a yank of his hand. "Dere better be leftovers in mine fridge, or hy'm gonna be super crenky!"

The other disappointing thing is that that's all I've worked on lately o(￣▽￣)ｄ

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itsmikatheghost · 1 year

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I meant to post this yesterday and forgot about it until now- oop

Wip art stuffs

#Jinshi Shimazaki #sakamoto days #sakamoto days oc #mika'sart

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actual-lea · 1 year

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oops I meant to post this yesterday and completely forgot

AO3 | First chapter | Previous chapter

Daniel stares at the ceiling in stunned silence. The back of his head is throbbing, now, from hitting the floor, and the air has been forcibly knocked from his lungs and replaced by an uncomfortably heavy pressure on his chest. It doesn't hurt, exactly; at least, not yet.

He starts to lift his head but quickly drops it again with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut and placing a hand over his thudding heart. He's almost surprised to find his ribcage hasn't been caved in completely, that the bullet didn’t punch right through the vest, through fabric and skin and muscle and bone, that there isn't any blood soaking his clothes.

He opens his eyes to see Sayid standing over him, gun in hand, and adrenaline forces him to scramble away, as much as he can when every movement hurts like an ice pick to his chest. “Sayid,” he gasps out, pressing his back to the wall, “What are you–”

“Keep quiet and don't move,” Sayid orders in a low, deadly calm voice, and Dan falls into a terrified silence. “Do you know why I'm here?”

He blinks, his eyes locked onto the end of the gun. The attached suppressor isn’t there for intimidation; no, this is a weapon meant solely for killing.

“Do you know why I am here?” Sayid repeats, more forcefully, stepping closer and kicking aside the bag Daniel had dropped.

“N-no, no, I'm sorry, I don't, I'm–” He shakes his head. “I– I don't understand–”

“For a long time now, I've been tracking down the men who work for Charles Widmore,” Sayid says, and Dan's blood turns to ice. “These are bad men. Dangerous men. And so I've been finding them, and killing them. All of them.” A pause. “That’s why I’ve come to Los Angeles, to find the next man on my list.”

Daniel's pulse pounds in his ears and he shrinks back, holding out a hand. “Wait–”

“When your name came up, I thought it must be a mistake. After all, the last time I saw you, it was after you had nearly drowned trying to save a stranger's life.” Sayid kneels beside him. “I would like to believe that you’re a good person, Daniel Faraday. That you have a good reason for whatever you've done. And that's why I'm giving you a chance to convince me.”

“But you just–” Daniel's breath catches in his throat; he coughs, once, and nearly faints outright. “You shot me,” he wheezes, clutching his chest.

“But you're wearing a vest,” Sayid states, and he reaches forward to tug at the black fabric peeking out from beneath Dan's collar. “And so I haven't killed you.”

The unspoken yet hangs in the air between them, and Daniel shifts his weight with a wince. “How... How am I s'posed to convince–”

“You can start by telling me how long you've been on Widmore's payroll.”

He shakes his head. “It– It's not like that, I'm not–” Sayid shoots him a glare that silences him; he'll just stick to the basics, then. “It was a couple years ago, uh... October. 2005.”

Sayid's eyes flash. “When in October?”

“I don't...” He blinks back tears, panting a bit. “Um, the end, I think. What–” Then he realizes what he's being asked and shakes his head, horrified. “Sayid, you don't think I was involved with– with what happened to...”

“Nadia,” Sayid breathes. “Her name was Nadia.” There's a dangerous edge in his voice as he leans closer. “Were you?”

“No,” he replies, so forcefully that it hurts. “I swear to you, I had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't.”

After a long, long silence, broken only by Dan's shallow, shaky breathing, Sayid slowly nods. “So, what did you do for Widmore?”

Daniel swallows against the lump in his throat. “He...recruited me, to find his daughter. Penelope.”

“Find her?”

“After we left the island, he didn't know where she was, and...” He shifts his weight and winces again. “I guess, he thought she was in danger, somehow, so he made me track her down.”

“Why you?”

“Because...” He exhales. “He knew that Penny would be wherever Desmond was.”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

“Yeah. Me neither,” he says with something between a laugh and a groan. “Uh, Desmond is... I have a sort of... A connection, to him.”

“What do you mean, 'connection'?”

“It's– Well, it's a bit...complicated, to explain, but...” Dan clears his throat with a grimace. “Details aside, Widmore knew about it, and knew that I would be able to find him.”

“And it never occurred to you that this pretense of protecting his daughter might be a lie?” Sayid says with a frown. “That perhaps he was tying up loose ends, and that Desmond was the real target he was interested in?”

“No, it– It did occur to me, but I...” He swallows, and nods, squeezing his eyes shut. “It did, yeah.”

“And did you find them?”

“Yes.”

Sayid looks dismayed. “Why?”

“He didn't... Widmore didn't give me a choice,” Dan gasps, barely above a whisper.

“What did he offer you?”

“Nothing, he–” He bites back a curse as Sayid's hand twists in his collar, pulling him closer.

“Did he threaten you, then? Tell you that this was the only way to save your life?”

“N-no, it's not–”

“Then what is it?” He jabs the end of the gun into Dan's neck. “What was it that made you decide to help this man, that you knew to be dangerous?”

Daniel chokes on a sob. “Sayid, please–”

“What was it?”

“He threatened someone else,” he says in a rush, his voice breaking. “Someone that I– That isn't even involved in any of this, and if I don't do what he says, he'll...” He shakes his head. “God, I don't even know what he'll do, but it won't be good, and that's why I– I have to cooperate, because if I don't, if I run, if I try to do anything...”

Sayid stares at him in silence.

He's no longer speaking in past tense, he realizes suddenly. “He'll find me again,” he explains quietly. “Sooner or later.”

“Why, Daniel?” The pressure on the gun eases, just a bit, but it doesn't move. “What more does he want from you?”

“I've...been...” He shuts his eyes tight. “I've been trying to find the island.”

Sayid releases his hold on Dan’s collar, letting him slump back against the wall.

He takes a deep, painful breath and continues, “To– to figure out where it is now, based on...a lot of really complicated theories, about what exactly happened when it moved.” He wraps an arm around his chest. “Because I'm, you know, I'm a physicist, this is... It's what I do,” he adds with a helpless shrug.

“And Widmore?”

“And Widmore...” He swallows, hard, and looks down. “He's trying to find the island, too, so...”

“So he'll have you find it for him.”

“That's...what I'm afraid of, yeah,” he whispers.

Sayid exhales heavily. “This person that he threatened. What’s her name?”

Dan winces. “Theresa.”

“Where is she?”

“W-why does it matter?”

“The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner this will be over.”

A shiver rolls up his spine as he contemplates the meaning of the word over. “Oxford. She… Her sister takes care of her, they live in Oxford.”

Sayid is silent for a few seconds. “And you can't take them somewhere else, keep them safe from Widmore?”

“No, I can't.”

“Why can't you?”

“Because I can't keep anyone safe! That's why I–” A fresh stab of pain in his chest forces Daniel to suck in a sharp breath and start over. “That's why I have to find the island before he does, because everyone that we left behind, they're still...” His voice shakes. “They're all in danger, as long as they're still there. As long as he's still looking.”

“And what if your finding the island is exactly what he wants?” Sayid says. “You could be playing right into his hands.”

“Not if he doesn’t know where I am.”

At that, he stands up to his full height. “Then he can’t be allowed to find you,” he states. “You need to disappear.” His voice would be gentle, almost, if it weren't for the gun in his hand.

Daniel watches him with wide eyes, feeling small and helpless and far too terrified to be ashamed of the way he cowers against the wall.

And then, inexplicably, Sayid pockets the gun and walks away. He lifts the phone off the nightstand and places it on the floor, and he says, softly, “Wherever you were hiding, go back there.”

Dan blinks. “You’re not…gonna kill me?”

Sayid shakes his head, and relief floods Daniel’s chest around the pain. “I’m going to disappear, too.” He nods to the phone. “Wait five minutes before you call for help.”

“Okay,” he gasps, nodding vigorously. “Yeah. Okay.” He lets his head fall back against the wall as Sayid heads for the door.

He opens it, then pauses. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry.”

“Thanks,” Daniel says, and he means it.

With a final nod, Sayid shuts the door behind him.

(next chapter)

#lost #fanfiction #daniel faraday #lost show #abc lost #a bit of a shorter one but!

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heliopauseentertainments · 2 years

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may be a bit late but! director's commentary on Megatron Apologizes? i'm still obsessed with megatron's awful influencer apology

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

That's okay! On the plus side, that means you get this minus the fasting hangry that plagued me all day yesterday.

Context: Megatron Apologizes - a cracky post-war Cyberverse fic where Megatron makes a youtuber/influencer-style apology while taking directions from Deadlock.

There's a few things I can say about this one.

First, the bloopers!

When writing this, I totally forgot the Decepticons were actually living in Croaton, and so named their city Kaon. Oops.

I forgot that cut onions make most people cry because they do not make me cry. So I used salt to summon "fake tears." On the plus side, this meant I didn't have to find a Cybertronian equivalent of onion, because salt in circuits would also be bad.

Now, onto more serious comments.

This idea was originally spawned from the notion of IDW!Deadlock/Drift being an accomplished speechwriter and having assisted Megatron with his writing after the attempted shadowplay/"personality adjustment."

I could have done something poignant, but @tangentially-displaced suggested a youtuber fake apology, and, for once, I listened because that sounded absolutely hilarious.

So I transplanted aspects of the above notion to Cyberverse, a setting that can comfortably accommodate whatever cracky ideas I want to throw at it without much of a stretch.

However, since Megatron in Cyberverse is not known for writing and only has moderate PR skills, at best, especially after the war, it was easy enough to have him completely fuck it up for the laughs.

It was also a tiny bit of wish fulfillment in that Deadlock got to live.

#admin post #ask #ask meme #bitegore

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adjacently · 2 years

Text

WIP Wednesday-ish

I meant to post this yesterday, but I forgot, oops. Think of this as a coda to i knew him well.

Extremely unbeta'd.

"Are you falling asleep on me, old man?"

Jonas laughs, pulling Nico closer until Nico's back is flushed against his chest. "Who are you calling old? Which one of us had to take a two-hour nap after a one-hour flight again?"

He doesn't need to see visual proof to know Nico's rolling his eyes at him. Nico settles against him without complaint, a soft, huff of breath hitting the side of Jonas' neck warmly.

"You napped with me, though," Nico says, smug. Nico brings their hands together over his stomach, their fingers interlaced, as he trains his gaze back to the bonfire in front of them.

Plausible deniability probably went out the window the moment Nico had nudged Jonas' legs apart, sitting conveniently between the vee of Jonas's legs when they first sat down. They'd lucked out when they found a small, more private nook towards the back of the beach. Still, they're not alone, not by a longshot. The sun's gone down into the horizon, though, darkness covering them all apart from the bright orange and blue flames from the bonfire, embers sending tiny sparks of light into the sand. Jonas hadn't known about the festival when he'd booked their holiday, but he's happy to participate and revel with everyone else, especially with Nico warm and happy in his arms.

It's dark enough that he risks a kiss on the top of Nico's head. No one's looking at them. They're careful, of course--Jonas isn't going to do anything that will put Nico in a compromising situation. It's nice, though, knowing for a sliver of time, they can just be Jonas and Nico, full stop.

"You do look tired, though, for real," Nico says lowly. His face is angled towards the crook of Jonas' neck, his lips softly brushing against Jonas' skin as he speaks. "We don't have to stay long."

Humming, Jonas squeezes their fingers together, his thumb absently running over the ridges of Nico's abs. "Just a little jetlagged, that's all. This is nice." It's not a lie; big parties like these aren't his jam as much as they are Nico's, but this is nice. Having Nico this close, like Nico doesn't want to be anywhere but within reach of Jonas--these are the kind of parties Jonas likes.

He's also jetlagged, though, and the gentle sound of the ocean's rolling waves isn't helping. It's been so long since he'd been to Bangkok that he'd forgotten how much havoc the time difference can elicit. Booking a trip to Marbella just a day after getting back from Thailand is not one of his better decisions, but with Nico in his arms, well.

It's worth it.

Bangkok had been wonderful, and Jonas would be lying if he said he didn't have a good time. He'd missed his friends, his cousins--missed the surf and sand and food that's uniquely Thailand. It had been a balm, especially after how the Devils' season ended. After how Worlds ended. He'd also be lying, though, if he said he didn't constantly think about Nico.

It feels ridiculous to miss him that much, especially when their lives are so intertwined in Jersey. Going from sleeping in Nico's bed to sleeping alone had been a shocking adjustment. It isn't even about sex, not primarily, at least. There's no greater feeling than being inside Nico and feeling Nico hot and wet and tight around him, but more than that, there's nothing more comforting than Nico's scent and the way his body fits against Jonas.

"We could have moved the trip," Nico says.

That's probably what they should have done, but Jonas doesn't know how he would have coped if he had to wait days, weeks, to see Nico again. They hadn't talked about the offseason much after Worlds. It had been a rough time for both of them--Nico more than Jonas, probably--and they'd parted ways without concrete plans between them. Jonas hadn't been worried; of course they'll see each other in the offseason. Multiple times, probably, and they can make all of the plans later.

And they had. They decided on Marbella again right before Jonas left for Thailand.

"Nah, this is good. The jetlag back is usually better for me than the jetlag getting there, anyway."

Nico kisses his cheek. "If you're sure. We can always spend the trip in bed. I'm totally okay with that, for the record." His grin is wide, but Jonas doesn't miss the way Nico's eyes darken, even with the sparks from the fire as their only light source.

"Don't think I'm letting you cheap out on dinner, Hischier, I'm on to you. You're gonna have to do better than room service carts," Jonas teases. It's a tempting picture, though, and now that it's in his head, he suddenly can't think of anything else other than laying Nico out on their hotel bed, Nico flushed and waiting for him. Pressing his lips gently against Nico's ear, Jonas lowers his voice. "Did you miss me, Nicky? Did you think about me at all?"

Nico's throat bobs as he swallows. "I didn't think about you at all," he says, but his breath hitches when Jonas moves one arm to grip his hips lightly.

"No?" Jonas asks, fingers trailing over the waistband of Nico's trunks. He quickly scans the area around him, making sure that the crowd of hotel vacationers is still largely ignoring them in favor of the makeshift dancefloor closer to the bonfire.

#wipwednesday #jonas/nico #hockey rpf #i knew him well

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