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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Into The Unknown, Part 9

First

It was kind of weird how quickly they got acclimated to civilian life.

Sure, Marinette often came out of the day with way too much energy, but they could burn off most of it by sparring. A ten to twenty minute session a day (excluding warm ups and cool downs, which added another thirty minutes or so) was enough to maintain their physiques and get rid of the uncomfortable energy that came with the sudden loss of constant danger in their lives.

(Not that this Gotham wasn’t dangerous, but it was… markedly less so. The Rogues Gallery didn’t exist in this world, what with Batman not existing, so the only thing that they really had to fear was mob activities and the occasional mugging. As long as they kept their noses clean and never stopped to tell a person the time, there was no reason for them to be scared.)

Other than that… it was almost too easy to get used to the new life that they lived.

Marinette woke up first in the mornings for work and would take care of Damian while she got ready. Tim had baby duty for the nine hours a day she was at work and commuting, so it was the least she could do.

And, really, he wasn’t all that difficult now that she was starting to get the hang of the whole baby thing.

Damian was trying to mimic her -- anticipatory socialization, she was pretty sure it was called (Or was it imprinting? Observational learning? Damn it, her psych major was not coming through for her right then). She found it cute and it was completely normal so she was perfectly fine encouraging it: she had gotten him mini versions of all of her makeup brushes.

One time, though, this backfired on her: he had dipped one of the cheap makeup brushes she’d gotten him into her makeup when she wasn’t looking and applied it to his face.

Marinette glanced down -- he had been quiet for too long, never a good thing -- and gasped. “Dami, you can’t whitewash yourself!”

Damian looked up at her, eyes wide with confusion.

She tried not to pout because he might take it wrong. Why must her best jokes always come to her when no one was around to hear?

“Don’t touch the powder stuff, please. It's not for babies, it's for grown ups.”

Damian frowned and looked down at his brush. She gently took it from him and worked at getting the makeup out.

When she gave it back to him he still seemed a little sad.

She sighed and gave him a short hug. “I’m not mad. I promise. It’s just… not your color!”

(The real reason was that makeup is very expensive, but kids don’t really understand money so she needed an excuse.)

Damian was still a little pouty. She didn’t know what to do. Damn. She supposed that served her right. She shouldn't have dared to think that she was getting the hang of having the whole ‘having a baby’ thing.

She sighed and looked down at him for a few moments, thinking. He was sitting in the high chair they kept him in when both of them were too busy to hold him. Usually he would be swinging his legs back and forth like a toddler -- probably because he was a toddler -- but now he was remarkably still, green eyes wide as he looked up at her.

She glanced at the time. Damian had woken her up early that morning, so she had extra time to get ready…

Marinette pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the internet.

… hm. Makeup could be toxic to babies. Good to know.

She grabbed one of her makeup wipes and scrubbed it from his face. She’d make sure to tell Tim so he could look out for any rashes the kid might get.

Then, she pulled out a comb and started brushing the tiny curls on Damian’s head. There wasn’t much, so it was mostly just dragging against his scalp, but the kid seemed pleased so she kept doing that for a few minutes.

At one point, he tried to take the comb from her. She allowed it, figuring he wanted to try and brush his own hair, but then he reached for her.

She leaned down to take him out of the chair, she was mostly done getting ready anyways, but instead he started trying to brush her hair.

… oh.

She felt, strangely, like crying. Her kid -- sorry, this kid -- was just so cute.

… but she didn’t want to mess up her hair...

He made a vague whining sound and she was weak.

She could always fix her hair on the train or something, she supposed.

She hesitantly leaned down so he could brush her hair. “Fuck it? I guess?”

“Fuck it,” Damian said, giving a short nod.

She groaned internally. “I’m actually going to have to stop swearing, aren’t I?”

“Fuck it!” Damian said again, louder this time.

Her lips twitched. “You’re so right, Dami. Who cares about a few little swears?”

“I do,” said Tim, who was apparently standing in the doorway.

She yelped. She probably would have flinched away if Damian hadn’t managed to make a giant knot in her hair in the few seconds that she had let him touch it.

She turned and sent Tim a weak smile. “You’re up early.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please stop teaching him swears.”

“I mean… it’s kind of funny, though.”

“It’s not.”

Marinette groaned overdramatically and turned to look at Damian. “He’s such a stick in the mud, amiright?”

“Sti-in-mu,” Damian said, nodding.

Tim huffed. “I’m starting to think he likes you better.”

“As he should,” Marinette said. She picked up the baby and nuzzled her nose against his. “Who’s a smart baby? You are!”

Damian giggled and tried to nuzzle her back.

Tim hummed as he went around the apartment, sweeping the floors. He and Marinette had come to a kind of unspoken agreement: he would do the cleaning, and she would do the cooking. It was only fair, since Tim’s standards for cleanliness were higher than hers and she was the only one out of the three people there that was physically capable of cooking an edible meal.

(Yes, he was aware that he was comparing his cooking skills to that of a baby. It was accurate, okay?)

Damian crawled along after him. He was trying to help, Tim was pretty sure, swatting the floor behind where Tim was cleaning...

Tim smiled. Maybe he should get the kid some fake cleaning supplies like Marinette had done with all of her makeup brushes. Would he like that? Only one way to find out, he supposed. He found the grocery list and wrote it down.

When he turned back to where he had left Damian -- which, he reminded himself, he shouldn’t be doing, because the kid was surprisingly fast when it came to trying to get himself killed -- and found the kid…

Holy shit.

He was walking.

Tim watched with a bright smile as Damian struggled to his feet and took a few steps towards him.

It didn’t last long. Damian had only really managed about three steps before he fell back to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. But…

Tim made a slightly embarrassing squealing noise in the back of his throat and leaned down, scooping the baby up in his arms and hugging him close. He couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of his face.

“Look at you! Walking! Oh my god! Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”

Damian was blinked up at him in wide-eyed confusion.

Tim leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of the kid’s head and refused to pull back until he had calmed down a little.

He smiled down at his younger brother, who looked delighted at the attention but also very confused as to what was going on.

He looked around until he found Kaalki, who had been on his phone doing… horse things? God things? Who cares?

“Please tell me you took a video of that.”

“Nope. I did get a picture of you kissing his forehead, though.”

Tim huffed a little. “Delete that.”

“Too late. Already sent it to Marinette.”

Even this wasn’t enough to dampen his mood.

And Tim knew that the fact that Damian was walking had almost nothing to do with him, but he was proud, damn it. Or maybe the better way of saying it was that he was happy for the kid? He didn’t know, he had always been terrible with emotions. It was a good emotion, though, that much he was sure of.

He kissed Damian’s forehead again and smiled when the baby giggled at him and reached out, smushing his cheeks in his hands.

“Hello,” Tim struggled to say with the baby hands pressing in on his face.

“Nano,” Damian said.

“Close enough,” he said. “Want to watch some TV to celebrate?”

Damian nodded vigorously. Tim wondered, vaguely, if the kid understood what he was saying or if he just kind of gave answers when he knew that Marinette and Tim were asking him things.

Didn't matter. Tim would put on that one weird show with the talking cat that Damian liked and they could watch that until Marinette got home.

And, when she did, she practically ran over. She didn’t even take off her shoes, a sure sign that she was excited.

Damian looked away from the TV and smiled. “Mar-ree.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open for a second… and then curled into a bright smile.

“You’re so… cute!” She cooed. “Yes! Hi! Good to see you, Dami!”

Tim pouted, slightly jealous.

She seemed to notice because she stuck her tongue out at him. “You got to see his first steps and I didn’t. I deserve this.”

He disagreed. The pout on his face remained until Damian saw and twisted around in his lap, leaning up and wrapping his arms around his neck in a kind of hug. Because it was kind of hard to stay sad when he was doing that.

He hugged the kid back for a few moments and then drew back, planting a kiss on his nose.

Marinette hesitated.

“Can I… have him for a few minutes? I want to see him walk.”

Tim considered this.

Then he smiled. “Only if I can take a video.”

“I would have made you do it, anyways,” she said.

Tim chuckled softly and handed the baby over so they could take the video.

She slipped into the apartment after a long day of work.

Tim was fluffing the pillows, apparently out of apartment to clean.

Damian looked up from the pillow he was hitting at the sound of the door clicking closed, and he seemed to light up. He grabbed Tim’s hand with one hand for his attention and pointed at her excitedly with the other.

“Nano! Yanzur! Mar-ree!”

“Yeah, that’s Mari,” Tim agreed.

Marinette flexed her feet now that they were out of the god-forsaken heels that she had been wearing.

“Hi, Dami. How was your day?” She asked.

Damian didn’t understand the question and certainly didn’t know enough words to respond, but he seemed sated by the acknowledgement of his existence. He slowly slid off of the couch and started his way over to her.

Marinette smiled faintly, amused. She looked over at Tim while she waited for him to get to her.

“So… he told you to look at me, that I get… but what is a ‘Nano’?”

“That’s what he’s calling me now, I think,” Tim said, slightly flushed.

She blinked. “That… isn’t even close to your name.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging helplessly.

Her lips twitched. “Maybe he’s calling you short.”

Tim threw the pillow he had been fluffing at her.

She let it hit her -- it was a pillow, it wasn’t like it would hurt -- and then stuck her tongue out at him. “Don’t blame me! I’m but an innocent bystander in this! He’s the one that did it!”

Damian tugged on the fabric of her shirt. She looked down, a grin still on her face. He made grabby hands and she obliged with ease, picking him up and nuzzling her nose against his.

Then, her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Tell me, Dami, is Tim short?”

Damian looked between the two of them. Marinette was nodding and Tim was shaking his head vigorously.

“... shor!”

Marinette burst into a fit of giggles while Tim groaned.

“I hate you.”

Her amusement didn’t die down in the slightest. “Oh, if you hate me, then I guess I’m only making food for Dami and I. Hope you didn’t eat all the leftovers for lunch today...”

“Wait, Mari, let’s talk about this --.”

~~~~~

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#the nano thing is an actual thing that happened to me #i still dont know how my sibling came up with that #my real name is even further away from nano than olivia is #into the unknown #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin

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nanagoswife · 3 years

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I Failed Everyone. I Failed You.

(^^these are related to the fic^^)

HAPPY MAY 4TH EVERYONE

In celebration, I decided to write this random idea I had literally just last night (right before I wrote it. I wasn't even planning to write last night 😅) Anyways, I thought we could use some Obi, even if he isn't going through entirely good times. With me, I had to end it on a lighter note so sad Obi doesn't necessarily last the whole time.

Pushing this aside, happy May 4th everyone.

May the force be with you, always.

- - -

Summary: After Order 66, Obi-Wan has to go and deal with Anakin. Taking place after the duel, he comes to you for support but, as the next hours go on, you're the one needing comfort.

W/C: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of flame boy, mention of mass death, character death, angst, Obi being a sad boy

The threatening shades of red and orange accented by the black, soot covered ground would’ve frightened him in any other situation. Even the locals had an unwelcoming presence as they floated over the molten lava, gathering Maker knows what.

Now, though, he was more focused on a different fear that had come true. The order was destroyed, his friends turned on him, he failed Anakin. Obi-Wan Kenobi had failed one of the people he strove to do only good for.

Instead of his true duty, he had just battled his closest friend. His brother. His son. The one other he cared and watched over not because his master had told him so, but because he felt inclined to. There had been something in Anakin that peaked something inside of him that drew him to Anakin.

What good was he if he failed everyone he ever loved? First, Qui-Gon, then so many others. Even people who had just been there that fought by his side or died to save him. Then there was this current moment. He had failed to see how the war was a fool’s game. The person leading it was really on the enemy side and let his true colours show in a drastic change.

Obi-Wan had failed. He had even failed you. Compared to you, Obi-wan knew so much more about what was truly going on. Had he seen how overly fond the Chancellor was for Anakin, even you were suspicious. Yet, he didn’t act on it soon enough.

Due to this, you were caught up in Anakin’s tirade before it turned into the battle he had endured. You had come with Obi-Wan hoping that you could talk him back. Anakin always did have a strong connection with you. He had told Obi-Wan at a point that he looked to you as a mother figure, a role model.

It almost worked, too. It was almost as if something snapped in Anakin as you tried to step closer. All you wanted to do was embrace him and tell him how it would all be okay even after what happened with Padmé moments before. That’s not how he saw it. So, he had used the force and threw you against the ship, rendering you unconscious.

Being protective of both you and Padmé, Obi-Wan tried a last ditch effort to try and talk Anakin down. Despite being known as the ‘Negotiator’, his negotiating skills greatly lacked compared to yours. He had failed your mission to bring him back to the light.

With everything, it led to him watching as he was burned alive, almost pleading for help. Instead of listening, he turned away, unable to watch.

The image was sure to haunt the rest of his days as he walked back to the platform with Anakin’s lightsaber. Before this had all happened, he was able to check to make sure both you and Padmé were still alive. Thank the stars that you both were. He could only hope the baby was alright.

When it came to you, he was relieved to know that the one person he loved most dearly was alright, considering. You would’ve been the last straw had Anakin killed you.

Even in this time of pain and grief, he couldn’t help but be amused at the thought of how, not only did Anakin see both you and him as parental figures, but the two of you had really been together the whole time. Whether Anakin knew or not, the two of you raised him like your own because both of you knew that you couldn’t actually have a child of your own. So, Anakin played that role.

That was why you were so adamant on trying to talk him out of it. Unlike Obi-Wan, you refused to raise a hand to Anakin. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have either, had he not almost killed you and his own wife who carried his child. It repulsed him.

As he neared the platform, fear filled him at thinking something may have happened while he was gone. Did clone troopers arrive and find you here? He didn’t want to think about it, partially because, at this point, he would just give himself up to it.

Stepping up the platform, intense relief overtook him when he saw you with your back turned to him. You only turned when both R2-D2 and C-3PO had greeted him.

He didn’t need to say a word for you to know what happened. Why else would he be carrying the lightsaber? Although you hated that it happened, you couldn’t blame Obi-Wan at all. His pained expression showed how heavily it weighed on him.

Obi-Wan didn’t stop when the droids met him. Instead, he kept his path to you until he was in your arms. The tears that he had just wiped away now mixed with the ash on his face once again as he buried himself into your neck. One of your hands easily held the back of his head while the other gently rubbed his back.

As you held him, your own tears filled your eyes. You were unable to bring Anakin back. You had lost the closest thing you had to a son to the dark.

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan said, barely coherent through his cries. “I-I failed him. I failed you.” Just his voice wrenched your heart as his pain was so prominent.

His words pained you in a way that they never have before. In your mind, he didn’t fail you or Anakin. You were just as much to blame. As was everything else in and around your lives. That wasn’t what he needed to hear, though.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you said quietly into his ear. To further comfort him, you traced delicate circles in his hair. “You didn’t fail me and you definitely didn’t fail Anakin. There’s no way we could’ve known that this is what was going to happen.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No,” you said firmly but stayed soft so you could comfort him further. “You taught him well. The rest were his decisions. We couldn’t force his path, Obi.”

Carefully, you moved his head so that you could look him in the eyes, cupping his cheeks with your hands. The usual soft, caring blue was now dimmed with pain and grief. Although that’s how you felt, you tried to remain strong on the outside. He didn’t need how you felt added to his own emotions.

“Come on,” you said gently, “Padmé is inside. We need to get her into medical care.”

Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded and you led him inside by the hand that didn’t carry the lightsaber. When you walked in, you left Obi-Wan by Padmé’s side as you went to pilot the ship off this dreary planet.

“Twins?” you exclaimed when you heard the news. You, Yoda, and Obi-Wan all glanced at the other when the medical droid told you this.

“Go. By Senator Amidala’s side, you should be,” Yoda told you when you had looked worriedly at your friend. The fact that she was dying hadn’t quite settled in just yet. Instead of voicing this, you nodded to Master Yoda and quickly made your way to Padmé’s side.

Out of pure instinct, you grabbed her hand.

“Y/N,” she said weakly.

“Shh, save your strength. You’re about to have a couple little ones making themselves known,” you said with a slight chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. To your relief, she let out her own laugh.

The rest of it was all a blur. Padmé’s tight grip on your hand was merely a reminder that you were still here. It was a reminder that these may be the last few moments you get to spend with her.

At a point, you had looked up to where Obi-Wan was watching from the other side of the glass. Trying to be brave, he offered a small smile in comfort. It did help a bit before your attention was drug back to the situation as the grip on your hand was tightened.

Once both Luke and Leia were born, Obi-Wan joined the room and held Luke as you held Leia.

When you looked down, Padmé was smiling at the two babies that the two of you held. Then it fell. “There’s good in him,” she whispered, breathing deeply. “I know… I know there’s… still…” and she faded.

Obi-Wan looked as desolate as you felt. Other than the two of you, there was no one else. Sure, there was Yoda, but relationships with him weren’t as deep as with everyone you’ve lost today. Now, you and Obi-Wan were left with the children of your closest friends.

Later, after your discussion with Yoda and Bail Organa about what would happen with the children, you were watching the twins in the nursery through the glass wall. So many thoughts were running through your mind, the most prominent being what would happen with you and Obi-Wan.

During the meeting, the relationship you had with Obi-Wan no longer needed to be hidden. Even though Yoda already had known for years, he was open to what the two of you had to say. This was all to lead up to the point that the two of you would take Luke to his family on Tatooine and, together, you would watch from a distance.

Your thoughts now were about how the two of you would stay hidden with this duty. You thought about how this all would affect the next days, months, stars, maybe years. Would this plague both of you for the rest of your days? Would this draw you apart? Would it bring the two of you closer? Would you finally start the family the two of you wanted?

“Darling?” Your racing mind was interrupted as you heard the familiar voice. Turning to it, you saw Obi-Wan’s worried gaze. This time, it wasn’t because of everything else that had happened. It was a worry for you. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, quite…” you trailed off as you looked back to the two newborns.

Seeing your gaze, he immediately knew what you were probably thinking. He stepped up to you and pulled you into his embrace as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. What you needed was comfort, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Don’t worry, Darling. This won’t pull us apart, I promise,” he said reassuringly.

As he held you, an idea popped up in his head. It was something he continually thought about, but never was able to do. There was so much that he could finally act on that was once held back due to the code. Now, he could tell you and ask you everything he wanted to for so many years. Especially with this idea now.

“Y/N, darling?” He moved slightly back so that he could look into your eyes. The troubled look that he saw in your eyes earlier was now dimmed down and was replaced with the usual fondness he loved to see. “To prove this, I want to ask you something.”

Confusion suddenly took you over. What could he ask that would prove to you that nothing would happen? That is until he started to sink downwards. He kept going until he was kneeling, looking up at you and held one of your hands in his. The whole time, he didn’t remove his eyes from yours.

“This has been something that I’ve wanted to ask for so long. I haven’t been able to before, but now I can. Y/N, will you marry me?”

Overwhelming happiness threw every thought from everything from the last twenty-four standard hours. It was the first time you truly smiled for days, maybe even weeks. It rendered you speechless as this was a day you thought you’d never get. Eagerly, you nodded your head before pulling him up to kiss him. The first time you would share a kiss without the fear of others catching you.

“I love you, Obi. So much,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you too.” Obi-Wan lifted a hand to your cheek and traced small circles with his thumb. Although the reasons that made this moment possible were horrible, he basked in this small thing that helped both of you forget. This was well needed for now. “Maybe we could finally start the family we’ve always fantasized about,” he said while bringing his lips to your forehead.

You pulled your head away, but didn’t move away from his hold. “Really?”

“Really. Those dreams can finally be a reality.”

Without any more hesitation, you kissed him once again. There will be much to overcome, but you’ll have each other to work through it. You’ll have the other to comfort the other. Eventually, you’ll have another that will make you want to be better.

Then, you knew that Obi-Wan hadn’t failed you and you hadn’t failed Obi-Wan. Even though you both lost your closest friends, and you may have failed so many, you hadn’t failed each other. And in this blissful moment, that’s all that matters.

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @hopeladybug

If you want to join a taglist, message me or send in an ask. I'll eventually get something set up, but this is the only couple ways for now 😅

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fangirling-allday · 4 years

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Something Else

Paring- Luke Patterson x reader

Warnings- none, if there is let me know!!

Word Count- 1209

Summary- Julie’s friend is close with the boys, however there seems to be a different connection with Luke. What happens when Julie has enough with their obliviousness.

A/N- Hi! This is my first imagine so please be kind but please leave some constructive criticism for me!! I want to make these better! Here are a few thing that you can let me know on how I did-I tried to write it as gender neutral but I’m not sure if I did so if you could also let me know how I did with that it would be awesome! I tried the you format of writing so tell me if you like that or if you would prefer the I/me format. Thank you so much!! Also gif is not mine, credit to the owner.

- - -

His smile is what drew you in.

No matter the day, you could always find him with a smile. His smile seemed to be the brightest thing in this world. And when he smiled at you, the whole world disappeared.

After finding out that Julie had created a band, you quickly went to meet them and started wondering who these people were and wanted to thank them for bringing music back into her life. As you neared the garage, you heard multiple voices. You knocked quickly and opened the door.

"Hey, Julie. Your dad said I'd find you out here." you said, looking at the three mysterious boys that filled up the seats.

"Oh, hey y/n." Julie said, her eyes growing wide as if you had just caught her in something.

She came up to you and gave you a hug, which diverted your eyes to her face instead of the strangers. A smile soon settled on her face. After smiling back, eyes drifted back to the boys.

You stood there a moment before mentioning the elephants in the room.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friends or are we just going to keep ignoring them."

"You-you can see them?" Julie asked.

"They can see us?" One of the boys with what seems to be a hatred of sleeves followed.

"Umm... yes? Am I not supposed to see people anymore or...?"

"How is that possible?" The one that was holding drumsticks said.

"Um, Julie, is everything okay? Like am I dreaming or are there actually three cute boys here?"

Lastly the boy with a flannel tied around his waste said, "Huh, they think we're cute."

Looking back at Julie, you gave her a look, not feeling like dealing with this crap today.

"How about you sit down, this is kind of a confusing story."

Following Julie to the couch, you just sat and listened. Supposedly these guys died in 1995 and they were a band, or are now as well just under a different name. Oh yeah, and the only person who can see them without playing music with Julie was herself, that is until you.

"Wait, so why can you see us?" The one you now know as Alex questioned.

"I-I don't know."

"Well I guess we will just have to find out together." Julie said, hooking her arm through yours.

You looked at her and gave her a smile, then slowly looked at each of the boys, landing on Luke last. And of course on his face was that smile that would become the death of you.

Hanging out with the boys and Julie after school became a normal thing, and when Flynn officially knew about them, it seemed to be even more often of an occurrence.

By spending time with the band, you slowly became closer with them all. Alex was like a big brother, and you both always seemed to have the same mindset of things and tried to keep the others out of trouble. Reggie bonded with you on your share of movies, and of course you showed him all that he missed. Finally, there was Luke. You became closest with him, and maybe that was why you learned that you could touch them.

This brought a whole new level of comfort to the guys, knowing that they wouldn't be just ghosts but that they had a sense that they were real really helped them, especially Luke who seemed to be the most touch starved out of all of them. This perhaps was the reason you could tell that what you both had was different compared to the other guys. You could feel your cheeks blush when he smiled at you, or the butterflies in your stomach go crazy when he asked to run your fingers through his hair. Slowly, you figured out that you were growing feelings for the ghost, and Julie and Flynn quickly caught on as they caught your stares and heated cheeks.

This however brought a discussion from Flynn, who was not happy with what was going on. You knew that you wouldn't be able to act on these feelings since he was a ghost, but you didn't think he felt the same anyways. You assured the girls that, though Julie did not seem convinced.

One afternoon you was hanging out in the garage, waiting for Julie to come back, and the only thing that was on your mind was his smile.

Suddenly you heard a whoosh.

"Hey y/n...", Luke said with that darn smile on his face.

"Hey Luke..." you mimicked.

He sat down on the couch-ahem sorry his couch- next to you, laying his head on your lap. Your hand immediately started playing with his messy brown locks.

"Watch ya doin'?", he said, his eyes locking with yours.

"Oh, I'm just waiting for Julie to come back. She had left saying she needed to get a glass of water.”

Luke's smile was then replaced by a quizzical look.

"She just left to go to Flynn's."

"Wait, what?"

You couldn't believe this. She left to go see Flynn without you. What on Earth could she be planning?

"Yeah, she said that she needed to talk to Flynn and that there was something out here I had to deal with."

Your face mirrored his. What is Julie up to?

Slowly, a smile spread across his face. That darn smile made you forget all about Julie and whatever her evil plans could be.

Luke sat up, and turned to face you, that smile still lighting up his face.

"Now I don't really think that Julie had anything she needed me to do."

"What do you mean?" You wouldn't consider yourself a clueless person, but you are completely lost.

"Come on y/n, you can't be this dense." As he said this, he moved closer to you, a hand reaching to push away a peace of hair that was in your face. His hand lingered on your cheek before he dropped it to his lap.

A blush spread across your face. "I-I don't understand. Wha-what's going on?"

Luke slowly moved his face closer to yours and your breath hitched. He quickly looked at your lips, and then back to your eyes.

"Why do you think Julie would want us to be alone?"

Looking into his eyes, all train of thoughts left your mind. You stared at his lips, and then they found their way back to his eyes. Luke leaned even closer and just before your lips were to touch, he pulled away.

He got up off the couch and started making his way to the door. "Now, y/n, if you figure out what Julie wanted us to figure out, come find me." And with that, he turned around and gave you a quick wink with that smile still on his face and left.

You stayed on the couch, dumbfounded for a moment, and then suddenly your brain started up again and you jumped off the couch.

"Luke Patterson you come back here!"

As you left the garage, you heard his laugh getting farther away. A smile slowly spread across your face as you chased after him.

Luke Patterson was something else.

- - -

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added!

@shellbeerocks

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #Julie and the phantoms imagine #Julie and the phantoms x reader #jatp imagine #jatp x reader #Luke Patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #jatp luke #jatp luke imagine #jatp luke x reader

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

I’m Here (ace.)

Summary: when you and your oldest friend find out a secret, who will be there to help you to cope?

AN: YAY my first ace fic! for creative purposes, this is probably non canon

tags: @derekmorganscrocs @bookish-bucky @remmyswritings

It was easy to assume that you weren’t having the easiest couple of days. Your oldest and closest friend, Nancy Drew, almost died in a mental institution, the boy who was the subject of your affection, Ace, well, his ex girlfriend showed up but then left. Again. And then you found out that you have been lied to your entire life.

Thanks to Nancy’s friend John Sander and Ace testing the bones and Nancy sending in your hair unbeknownst to you, to test against the hair found when examining Dead Lucy’s remains.

You were pacing in The Claw after John and Nancy had broken the news and you were freaking out, putting it lightly. “W-Why would you get my hair tested too?” You stammered. “I had suspicions that you were Lucy and Ryan’s daughter. You look just like her and I needed to make sure I was wrong.” Nancy explained.

“Oh well you figured it out, Nancy! Ryan and Lucy are my parents, for christ sake!” You snapped. “Y/N, breathe.” Ace interjected. “No, Ace! How is everyone so calm with this? My entire life has been a lie. I was told my real parents didn’t want me. That the last thing they wanted was a kid and they dropped me off at the fire station. Come to find out my real mother was probably murdered.” You rebutted.

The room fell silent as you scoffed before exiting the establishment.

The next day, you sat on the front porch of your house after confronting your mom about what you found out. She had told you that Kate and Carson Drew had called her telling her what happened with Lucy on the Bluffs. That she had a daughter that night and they couldn’t take care of her. Your mother was Kate’s closest friend and knew how much having a child meant to her. It was almost like a miracle.

“How’d it go?” Ace’s voice asked. You looked up and saw the lanky blonde approach you before sitting down on the steps. “Okay to say the least. She told me what happened that night to Lucy. Carson and Kate called her, my mom took me and the rest is history.” You explained.

“Are you gonna tell Ryan?” He questioned. “I don’t know. I feel like I should. Nancy called me and told me that Ryan is hell bent on finding out if Lucy actually had a baby, odds are he’s not going to want me. Lucy got rid of me, why would Ryan want a kid the mother didn’t want?” You answered. “I don’t think that’s true.” Ace said.

You looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed, not sure what he meant by that. “If I were Ryan and you told me I could have you in my life, I’d jump at the chance to have that.” He added. You gave him a small, bashful smile before it fell quickly.

“He won’t even believe me if I told him. All I have that proves I’m his daughter are baby pictures and an old compass that my mom said is supposedly a Hudson family heirloom.” You said. “Well, if Ryan doesn’t believe you because of the fact you look just like Lucy Sable then that’s on him.” Ace said. “Will you come with me? I don’t think I can do this without you.” You asked.

Ace smiled at you as he nodded his head. You were grateful that Ace agreed because you didn’t have anyone else.

You had your mom but even then you knew she wasn’t your real mom. Your whole life was a mystery and now you had the chance to get some clarity.

You and Ace made your way to Ryan Hudson’s house, your heart feeling as if it were going to burst through your chest.

Ace parked the car in front of the large house but neither of you moved. “I don’t think I can do this.” You whispered. “Hey, look at me. I’ll be right there the whole time. You can do this.” Ace said, taking your hand.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before getting out of the car. You rang the doorbell and waited a few moments and then the door opened.

“Y/N, Ace? What are you guys doing here?” Ryan asked upon seeing you. You held the folder in your hand tightly as you looked at him. “Um, there’s something we need to talk about.” You answered.

It was his turn to be confused but he moved aside to let you both in the house anyways. “What’s going on?” He asked.

You handed him the folder of the DNA results Nancy had gotten comparing you with Lucy Sable, as well as baby pictures of you and Lucy that you’d gotten from the Horseshoe Bay newspaper.

He opened the folder and read in silence as you took the compass out of your bag. “Nancy told me that you believed Lucy was pregnant before she died.” You started. Ace could sense your apprehension and subtly laced his fingers with yours to calm you down.

“She was. Then that night on the Bluffs, she delivered the baby. A baby girl. And that baby girl was me.” You added.

“I’m Lucy Sable’s daughter. Your daughter, Ryan. And I’m not here to get money or a pay out to keep quiet. I’m here because I’ve been told my whole life that my parents didn’t want me and I need closure. If you don’t want to admit I’m you daughter and you don’t want to be apart of my life, fine. I’ll pretend I don’t know anything. I just needed to confront my dad.” You added, your eyes welling with tears.

Ryan looked from the folder and up to you. As he was looking at you, he could see that you looked so much like Lucy. But you looked like him too. You had the same nose he did and a similar eye shape and the color was almost identical.

“Y-You’re my daughter?” He questioned quietly. “I brought that and the compass to prove it.” You answered. “But your family was never supposed to know. Lucy wanted to keep me away from you.” You added.

The room was quiet, no one knew what to say. Then Ryan moved quickly towards you and hugged you. Like he was hugging a lost loved one and technically he was.

“I knew it. You look just like her.” Ryan muttered. “I’ll, uh, give you two a moment.” Ace said before stepping outside.

It took a few seconds to hug back, but you did.

It was a strange feeling that you weren’t used to. You didn’t know what it was like to have such a familial moment.

You pulled apart and he scanned over your face, seeing Lucy in you.

“Why can’t anyone know?” He asked. “Lucy told Carson and Kate to keep me away from the Hudson’s. That included you.” You answered. “If you knew, they’d find out too.” You added.

Ryan was quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “I missed the first 19 years of your life because of my family. You thought your own dad didn’t want you. Because of them.” He said.

You looked down at your feet, not really knowing what to say in that moment. “I-I need time before I can just 100% accept that you’re my dad.” You stammered. “I understand. But I’m here. If you need anything at all.” Ryan replied.

You nodded your head and gave him a small smile before leaving the large house. And there was Ace, standing by your car. He was always there it seemed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, once he noticed your presence. “I’m okay. I just feel like I’m completely alone, you know?” You replied. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Ace said.

You leaned against the car next to him and rested your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes. It seems you’re always saving me.” You told him with a laugh.

“I should be telling you the same thing. Finding out who caused Laura’s car to crash. You did that for me.” He told you. “If I may be so bold, there’s a lot I would do for you, Ace.” You confessed.

Ace looked down at you, you still resting your head on his shoulder.

“There’s a lot I’d do for you too. I know I haven’t been the best at showing it sometimes, especially with Laura, but you mean the world to me Y/N. I’ve always had a thing for you I was just terrible at owning up to it.” He told you.

You lifted your head up and looked at him, not sure if you were hearing him correctly. “Funny, I’ve always had a thing for you too.” You said.

“We’ve been pretty stupid this whole time, haven’t we?” Ace asked. “Yeah, pretty much.” You laughed. “Well, what do you say? Wanna make this official?” He questioned.

“When you put it like that, how can I say no?” You replied. This wasn’t the ideal way you wanted you and Ace to get together but having him is better than not having him at all.

#ace nancy drew #ace nancy drew x reader #ace imagine #ace #imagine #imagines #nancy drew characters #nancy drew imagine

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buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

All Shook Up - T. Holland (01)

NOTE: fuck it, let’s start a new series! a fifties au featuring poindexter!tom x cheerleader!reader, and also a meanie harrison. let me know if i should continue this!

TAGLIST: @niallberry @swiftmendeshoran @theshyspy @clarabsevero @golden-hoax @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @organicpurplepants @wowitsel @sunwardsss

CH I. LONELY BOY

“Hey Poindexter,” the brunette turns away from his locker, eyes scanning over all of the gelled haircuts and letterman jackets for the nasally voice no doubt summoning his attention. “Where’d ya get those glasses? Geeks “R” Us?” Tom only groans quietly to himself before facing his small cubicle once more. As he tried drowning out the shrill laughs coming from the clan of girls adorning poodle skirts congesting the tiled corridor, the boy takes a sharp inhale through the nose at the sight of a hand slamming the door to his locker closed.

“How goes it, Poindexter?” Tom had suffered enough regular visits from Harrison to know two things. One was to never make eye contact in fear of earning a shiner and a broken pair of specs to trash, and the second was how to ensure he would live another day. “I’m here for my fee.” The proximity between the two allowed Tom a deep whiff of the tobacco Harrison was chewing that morning. Pushing a gag back down his throat, Tom nodded and hastily swung his knapsack around to sift through it. A few moments of silence pass when Tom’s hand zips the first pocket to his bag back up and tries the next one.

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Harrison tilts his head in a taunting manner, adding “you know what happens when you don’t have my fee.” Tom curls his toes as Harrison’s fist collides with the door of Tom’s locker a couple of times. The boy shivers at the memory of the last time his lanky body was crammed mercilessly and without regard into the small space. He missed three periods and was forced to wait for the janitor to pass by and hear him pleading for somebody--anybody--to set him free.

“I-I have it...I know I put it somewhere in here…” his trembling hands reached the zipper to the smallest pocket, which thankfully held enough for his lunch. Or, in this case, Harrison’s lunch.

“Ah, thanks, Poindexter.” Tom eyes the hand attached to the leather-clad arm snatch the bills from his scrawnier one. “Try to be quicker tomorrow, eh?” He can only nod in response, feeling the bell to first period vibrate his core. He trudges to first period with his head hung low, already suffering a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that today would be no good. No day at school ever was for Tom. He accepted that from the very first day he stepped into class lacking a proper haircut and twenty-twenty vision, he would be the pet of every teacher and the butt of every joke, whether he liked it or not.

“I never liked fish stick Friday, anyway.” He says to himself before approaching his usual seat towards the front of the classroom. It was the desk every student feared; apparently, the wooden seat had a stigma for sticking out to the teacher, who would call on whoever sat in it. More recently, it had grown attractive to his peers’ eyes for being infected with “nerd germs”. Truthfully, Tom didn’t think himself all that smart compared to his classmates. The only difference he could academically between himself and those occupying the desks around him was that he put forth real effort into his assignments, especially those which excited him. Sometimes he becomes certain he missed a memo about only being excited over last night’s football game or the malt shop’s new jukebox.

On the way to his desk, Tom couldn’t focus his eyes anywhere except the bright red lipstick complementing Y/N Y/L/N’s lips. He supposes admiring her was an activity he and the rest of the school did enjoy together. And Tom could not blame anybody for their disposition towards the girl. Being head cheerleader with the niftiest poodle skirts in Midtown history were perks that drew eyes and fished for compliments, unlike Tom and his four-eyed, shaggy hair appearance. Tom’s quirked lips fell as he witnessed the sight of Y/N’s opening to chat with Harrison, who claimed the seat beside hers. He tried to pull himself away from the sight by finally sitting his rump down in the chair and reading the list of assignments written on the chalkboard by the teacher, but his ears refused to leave the conversation alone.

Amidst her melodious giggles, Tom heard Y/N and Harrison discussing the big football game tonight. “It’s gonna be bitchin’,” he caught Harrison’s deep voice poking through the rest of the pre-class chatter, “especially since I’ll have you cheering for me.”

“Alright class,” the instructor starts, before taking the roll of the class. Afterward, she sets her clipboard down and clasps her hands together. “Let’s get down to it. It’s time for the annual science fair!” A chorus of groans echoes throughout the concrete walls, but Tom straightens himself up in his seat. This assignment was his favorite of all his classes for many reasons. It was no surprise that each year he wins by a landslide in comparison to the other projects, but he also has the freedom to do it completely by himself.

“This year will be different from the last years, however, because you all will be partnering up with somebody else from this class.” Tom’s shoulders slump, his lips parting in surprise. He was preparing himself to be the last choice of everybody in the classroom. Though it was guaranteed that he would lead himself and his partner to a blue ribbon, nobody would risk social suicide to willingly choose him. “And, before you all flip your lid about who you want to partner with, I will be choosing them for you.” Another series of whines leaves many of the students, leaving the teacher to hush their protests and reach the jar of popsicle sticks located on her desk.

Her voice calling out a succession of names becomes muffled to Tom’s ears. He crosses his fingers beside his legs, scrunching his eyes closed and silently praying for somebody feasible to work with--or really, somebody who isn’t Harrison.

“Harrison Osterfield and…” Her fingers dip back into the jar, stirring the wooden sticks around in a manner Tom is sure is meant to torture him. “Jacob Batalon.” The brunette allows a relieved breath to seep past his lips and hears the two teammates celebrating behind him. Little did they know, Tom was having an internal celebration of his own.

“Y/N Y/LN…” All of the unsaid names in the class, Tom included, held their breath for the lucky person to be drawn. Tom eyes the instructor’s manicured fingers dive back down, swirling all of the possible partners around. Tom shuts his eyes and debates the possibility of his name being drawn. Would it be nice to work with a paper shaker who—more or less—presents herself as an airhead? Yes. But is it worth enduring a possible beating from Harrison if he stole his favorite cheerleader from him? Tom isn’t sure.

Luckily, he didn’t have to debate any further as the teacher drew the next stick, proclaiming, “Diana Ross.” Tom’s eyes darted around the classroom trying to spot Diana Ross in one of the desks, but only found other puzzled stares in return.

“Um,” a friend of Y/N’s who sat on the other side of her in the back of the classroom raised her hand, “I don’t think she’s in this class, Mrs. Weatherby.”

“Oh, my!” Mrs. W giggles to herself. “Her name must have gotten mixed up with your class by mistake. Thank you for correcting me, Barbara. Miss Y/L/N, your actual partner will be...Tom Holland.” Tom nearly gets whiplash from his neck shooting up at such a fast rate. The boy feels his cheeks go red as he turns around in his seat to send his partner a shy wave.

Barbara leans over to Y/N, her mouth agape. “Oh, my stars. You have to be partners with Poindexter?!”

Science class came to an end before Tom could even muster the courage to properly introduce himself to Y/N. In the classes that followed after, he was imagining every possible scenario of how working with the school’s queen would play out. She could leave him to do all of the work. Maybe she would actually give her input on parts of the project too. The worst scenario that came to mind featured Y/N hating anything Tom brought to the table and ultimately earning the two of them a big fat ‘F’ in Mrs. Weatherby’s grade book. By lunchtime, Tom felt sick to his stomach from the smell of lukewarm fish sticks and these various figments.

He approaches the table Y/N is sitting at with her fellow cheerleaders and leather jacket clan, clearing his throat before speaking. “Hey, Y/N.” The clatter of silverware on plastic trays halts as all eyes turn to scan Tom’s frame up and down in dislike. Y/N studies all of the expressions being delivered to her partner and scoffs.

“Hey, poindexter. What are you doin’ over here?” Her voice saying his—unofficial—name still cues him to gulp down his nerves.

“I came to talk to you about the project, so we can figure out what we’re gonna do.” Her friends kept glancing between the two, absorbing every detail of the conversation.

“Uh...okay…” Y/N concedes, standing from her seat at the lunch table. She wipes her hand down the front of her pink, poodle skirt before grabbing hold of her lunch sack and following Peter to an empty table nearby. He tries not to train his eyes on how her hands reach around toward her backside to smooth the skirt down again before taking a seat.

“So what do you want to do?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “What do you usually do?” Peter eyes her hands as they open the brown lunch bag, removing a sandwich and an apple.

“Well, last year I did a study on kinetic energy--”

“Cool, let’s just do that.” She decides, taking a bite from her sandwich.

“What? No. I just said I did that last year.” She rolls her eyes.

“Do you really think they’d notice if you did it again?” Considering he won with his presentation last year, Tom wouldn’t bet on sneaking past the teacher with the same exact concept.

“Yes.” The boy nods his head furiously. “Look, why don’t we just meet up later?” He suggests, only to receive a head shake.

“No can do. The cheerleading captain needs to be present for practice and the game tonight. Unless you want to show up and talk during the game.” She snorts, meeting Tom’s stoic expression.

“What’s so funny?”

“No offense, Poindexter--”

“Tom. My name’s Tom.” He interjects sharply.

“Right. Let’s be honest, you would never show up to a football game for enjoyment. You haven’t even been to one of ours.”

“You don’t know that!” The boy argues but slumps down in his seat as Y/N lifts an eyebrow.

“Really...do you even know our school’s mascot?”

“I...that’s irrelevant.” Tom disputes, face heating underneath her hypnotizing stare. “And for all you know, I could have come to a game to watch.”

“Nope. You haven’t.”

“Really, and how would you know?”

“Because I…” Y/N pauses spewing her argument. Tom sits patiently, eyeing the paper shaker whose mouth remained agape.

“Well?”

“B-because it’s my job as a head cheerleader to keep the crowd entertained at all times. That also includes knowing who’s in the crowd. And I’ve never seen you on our bleachers.”

“Well, you will tonight. Because I’ll be there. And we can figure out what to do then.” From what Y/N had heard of Tom around school, the boy didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body. But something about keeping his word to this level seemed fanatical. Even picturing the lanky boy in his plaid shirt and specs slouching on the cool metal seats proved to be difficult for Y/N.

She narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “Whatever you say, Tom.” His name sounded foreign falling from anybody’s tongue except his parents. But he won’t lie, it made his insides flutter from her acknowledgment. He gazed at Y/N grabbing her lunch sack and departing from the conversation until she reached her original seat near her friends. She smoothed out her skirt once again before plopping down in between Harrison and Barbara and flickered her eyes up to meet Tom’s.

Immediately, both looked away. Y/N, to her lunch sack which she was now ripping open to occupy her eyes, and Tom down to his fingers. Seconds pass before Y/N slyly peeks up again, and notices now that the boy is sitting alone and without a tray or bag of food.

She leans next to Barbara’s ear, murmuring. “H-hey, does Poindexter always go without eating?” Maybe that’s why his arms never properly fill out the sleeves of his sweaters, or why his belt always needs extra notches from a pocket knife, she thinks to herself.

“Who cares?” Barbara inquires between obnoxious chews of her pink bubblegum. “Maybe it’s a new nerd diet or something.” Y/N only hums but feels her eyes narrowing down in suspicion yet again. Harrison nudges her shoulder, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Will you wear my jacket tonight at the game? It’d only feel right to leave it in your hands.” The boy smirked, trailing his eyes up and down her figure.

“Absolutely.” A smile crawls onto her lips as she stares at his wandering eyes. She cannot fight the fact that hers want to do the same, and they flicker back over to where Tom was sitting, only to find the table clear.

She wonders if tonight will be the night she looks for his face in the crowd and finally finds it.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

😡🤬ANGER MANAGEMENT (PART 1)🤬😡

Prompt: Y/N has the life she’s always dreamed of: a good house, a nice car, a fat paycheck, her dream job and some loving friends. Her life feels like a fairytale...but just like every fairytale she’s not safe from the villain, the problem with that? He’s not only an incredibly hot Scotsman but also a fucking pain in the ass!

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut, clit stimulation, angst, dirty talking, cursing, name calling,(possible part 2?Idk)

Notes: I think it’s time for me to face my biggest fear: Drew McIntyre! 😂 all jokes aside, I’ve lost count of how many one shots I have written and soon after deleted about this handsome hunk. There are so many good stories of him out there that I’ve always felt like mine were actually horse shit compared to those so I’ve never had the courage to make this Scottish wet dream an official brand of my writing, but I’m looking forward to achieve new accomplishments on my writing in 2021, so here goes nothing folks! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Oh Thank God! Just the woman I wanted to see”

I turned around to meet Becky Lynch, one of the few dear close friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a massage therapist.

“Hey Becks! What’s up?”

“Y/N I need your help, I was doing some training with the guys when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and now I feel like I wanna cry”

“Oh Becky, c’mon let’s go to my office”

Once we got there I mentioned for her to sit on the massage table.

“So tell me exactly what you were doing”

“I was doing some regular weightlifting, then all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain stretch from my elbow to my shoulder”

“Ok, did you warmed up before hand?”

“Yes”

“Did you added the weights in progressively or were you in some sort of competition against Sheamus, Cesaro and McIntyre as to whom could perform a proper weightlifting faster?” I crooked my eyebrow

“Y/N! You know I would never do that” She tried to hide her shame for being caught

“Becky, I know you! I know how competitive you are and how competitive you GET when you train with Sheamus, Cesaro and the Scottish prick.”

“They started ok?! They said I was no match for them, so I had to make them swallow word by word” She said slightly angry

“Calm down” I chuckled “And I presume you won?”

“Of course I won! As if they stood a chance” She scoffed

I touched her shoulder and palmed the back of her upper arm til I reached her elbow

“And your prize for that my darling is” I looked into her eyes “Six muscular knots, probably some small damage to your elbow nerves resulting in a little trip to the physical therapists and shit ton of pain, congratulations! Are you happy now?”

“Oh no!” She whined “Y/N, please don’t send me to the physical therapists, they will eat my ass off and they’re gonna tell Hunter about this. Please Y/N, please tell me you can fix it?” She stared at me with begging eyes

“Becks” I sighed “I can undo the muscular knots but I ain’t no fairy godmother! If you have some sort of nerve damage that’s up to the physical therapists...there’s nothing I can do about that honey”

“Please Y/N give me some of the red magical relief juice you gave to Kofi” She pleads

“Red magical relief juice?” I asked confused

“Yes, Kofi said he had this horrible pain from an injury and you gave him this red magical relief juice that helped him better than any medicine! Please give that to me too!”

I laughed before answering

“Oh Kofi, Kofi... it’s not an juice, it’s a liquid... a toner. A home made medicine I learned with my grandma. Technically I’m not even allowed to use that, but I know it works, better than these crap versions of Vick’s Vapor Rub” I tossed a little small green package in the trash can.

“Can you give that to me?” She asked with her eyes full of hope

“Fine” I said and she smiles widely

“But, you have to promise me that you will stop with these stupid and senseless competitions! They could permanently damage your nerves you know?!”

“Ok I promise”

I took a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and filled up with some small amount of the toner and placed the bottle inside a small paper bag. I also gave her a little bit of my grandma’s famous ointment in a tiny tin can.

“Alright, so here’s what you’re gonna do: once you get to your hotel room, you’ll take a hot shower and before you put your clothes on, you’re gonna rub the toner from your neck to your elbow all over your shoulder and back upper arm” She nods and I proceed “Then right after you’re going to take a small amount of this ointment” I show her the little tin can “And rub it all over your shoulder, back upper arm and elbow. Right afterwards you get dress with a long sleeve shirt and go to bed. Remember that you cannot leave your skin exposed to the cold air of air conditioning, because if you do it will make your pain and damage way worse! Do you hear me?”

“Yes Ma’am”

“If in three to four days you still feel any sort of pain you’re gonna have to go to the physical therapists”

“Ok”

“Becky I’m serious”

“Okay Y/N I got it” She smiles softly

“Good, now please, don’t tell anyone about this” I shook the little bag “And tell Kofi to keep his mouth shut. I know he means well but I could get fired for this”

“My lips are sealed” She pressed her lips in a thin line

“Thank you” I chuckled “Now, go on and take 20 drops of this” I give her some Ibuprofen “And come back in 20 minutes”

“Why?” She asks confused

“Because we still have to undo those knots and it’s not gonna be the fun kind of pain my dear”

“Argh” She groans

One week later

I was finishing tidying up the massage table from the session I just had with Bayley when someone knocked on my office door

“Come on in”

“Hey Y/N” Seth Rollins said in a voice full of pain as he tried to walk towards me

“Seth are you ok? Jesus, you look like somebody just kicked your balls so hard that they went up to your throat! What happened?” I tried to hold back my laugh

“A long story involving Cesaro and Drew. Moral of the story is my back is fucked up, do you think you can help me?”

“Can you lay down here?” I patted the table

“I guess so” He made his way to it excruciatingly slow as I helped him to lay down

“Where’s the pain worst?”

“My lower back” I touched and he gasped in pain

“Do you think you could give me some of that red magical relief juice?” He whispered so only I could hear it.

Of course I wasn’t surprised about him knowing of the “magical relief juice” since he and Becky were together I figured she told him.

“Did Becky told you?”

“Only today, once she saw I was in a tremendous pain...When she was using it I pressed her to tell me who gave it to her but she didn’t wanted to say, she said it was her fairy godmother”

I couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s inside joke and loyalty. I truly love that girl.

“Sure thing Rollins, just please don’t-“

“I won’t tell anyone Y/N don’t worry! Your witchy recipe is safe with me” He chuckled “Ouch fuck, that hurts” He groaned

“Did you bring any jacket on with you?” I laugh

“Yeah Becky told me to”

“Ok, let’s get start it”

Forty minutes and a relaxed thankful Seth Rollins later. I was finishing washing my hands while Seth pulled the zipper of his jacked up. I could feel his eyes on me

“What is it Rollins?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If the question is if I am a 450 year old witch then my answer is, you will never know” I whisper as I turn to face him with a smirk

He laughs before saying “Well I’m sure you are sweetheart” He winks playfully “But that’s not the question though unfortunately”

“What is it then?”

He looked at me with a sense of caution before asking

“Why do you hate Drew so much?”

“McIntyre? The Scottish prick? The shitty bearded version of Gastón from Beauty and The Beast?” I ask in disbelief

My hatred for Drew McIntyre goes way back to 5 years ago. To make a long story short he has being a pain in my ass every since I started working here. It all resumes to the bad flirting and endless fights. We’ve always fought at least 3 times a week for as long as I can remember. It’s like a weekly ritual for us, and our fights are always petty and ridiculous such as who will get in the elevator first or who will rent the last SUV car.

“Yeah...” He answers slightly embarrassed

“Well that’s simple, he’s an asshole! A smug fucker who thinks he’s the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth and that every woman alive must fall for him in all fours”

“Is there anything else beyond that?” He asks

“No! Of course not!” I lied. As if I could tell him about my deep sexual desire for the Scotsman

“Are you sure? I mean, you must agree with me that he is very beautiful” Seth answers

“I’m not saying he’s not. I have eyes, so trust me, I know he’s hot as fuck and a very handsome man but that doesn’t mean that every woman on this company wants him!” I scoffed

“Does the ‘every woman’ equals Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked aggressively

“Look, there’s no need for you to get all defensive ok? I’m your friend and I’m just asking this as a friend. I’m not coming for you by any means” He says with a soothing voice

“Sorry, it was just my automatic response”

“It’s okay sweetie”

“But Seth...why this question now?”

“Let’s just say that I may or may not have heard some backstage talk and I would like to know this from your own mouth instead of other people’s”

“Backstage talk? About what?” I ask angrily

His eyes widened “You know what? Let’s forget I ever men-“

“No no no Rollins you’ve started this now you will finish it!” Now I was really angry

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut” He murmured

“But you didn’t! So spit it out”

“Ok...I’ve heard one of the girls say that the reason why you hate Drew so much is because you kinda have a hidden want for him to fuck you but since he’s ‘not interested’ you get pissed off” He whispered

“I WHAT??? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?”

“Y/N please keep your voice down! Somebody is gonna hear you”

“I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS IF SOMEBODY CAN HEAR ME! Who’ve said that Seth?” I was boiling with rage

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna tell you who’ve said it because I know you will-“

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whispered

“If you don’t tell me who’ve said that right now Rollins I swear to God on God in heaven that I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

He gulped

“Now who’ve said that?”

“Carmella” He whispered and I smiled letting go of his collar “Y/N please don’t do anything stupid!” He said as I removed my coat

“Don’t forget to rub the toner on your back once you’re out of the shower” I patted his shoulder and made my way to the door

“Y/N where are you going? Y/N please whatever you’re thinking about doing it, just don’t ok? She’s not worth it! Y/N PLEASE!”

But his screams were now faint as I make my way down the hallway to find the blond gossiper girl.

I finally find Carmella “talking”, to Sheamus in one of the hallways.

“Oi Y/N, how’s life treating ya lass?” Sheamus smiles widely at me, making his usual greeting. At any other day it would’ve made my afternoon happier to find that amazing Irish man, but not today! I was so furious that I ignored him and went directly to Carmella

“Would you mind telling me why the fuck are you not only minding my business but also spreading rumors about me and McIntyre?”

From where I stood I saw Sheamus visibly gulp

“Hey Y/N, what do ya say about we go to tha catering grab some coffee huh?” He said urgently pleading

“So? I’m waiting for an answer” I said to her fully ignoring what he just said

“Well Y/N, from woman to woman, I think we both can agree that it’s no rumor. It’s quite visible, to not say pathetic, the way you can’t deal with rejection my dear” She batted her lashes

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“The obvious Y/N! That you want Drew in between your legs but he doesn’t! I mean, let’s face it, he’s too much of a man for you anyways! It’s not like you can handle him, because we know you can’t” She measured me from head to toe making me feel very conscious about the difference between her slim toned body and my thick one full of curves.

I know that most of the men’s in this company usually date or even have one night stands with women who were body equivalent to their own - slender and beautifully toned - , but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t saw my own curvy beauty. Hell, I even got some dinner invitations from some of the guys! Cesaro, Baron Corbin, Finn Bálor and even Seth Rollins (before he got with Becky) were some of them.

“I bet that I received more dinner invitations in a week than you in a year” I scoffed

“But not from the man you want the most right darling?” She evilly grins and I see red! Pure rage in it’s rawest form took ahold of me and I jumped towards her neck but a pair of strong arms stopped me from attacking her.

“Wow, easy now lass” He said

HIM! The cause of all this gossiping with my name, I couldn’t get even more angry even if I tried.

“Let me go McIntyre!” I roar

“Uh, enjoy it while it lasts Y/N, it’s as far as you’ll ever get anyways” Carmella chuckles

I tried to wiggle out of his arms “What the fuck did you just said bitch? I’ll feed you your own teeth you fuck-“

I couldn’t finish my sentence thanks to Drew, who lifted me off from the floor and tossed me on his shoulder, taking me to back my office.

“What are you doing? Let me go! I’m gonna punch her stupid rat’s face!”

“No you won’t”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m preventing your ass from getting fired!” He answers

I tried to release myself from him, but who was I fooling? The man is a brick wall, I couldn’t let myself go not even if I tried hard!

Once we got into my office he locked the door, placing himself in front of it and released me.

“Don’t you never, EVER, dare to manhandle me like that again! Do you hear me?” I stare at him with my eyes full of rage

“You know Y/N, all that anger is not good for you...you could have a heart attack” He chuckled

I was so mad, that tears of anger rolled down my cheeks as I cut the small distance between us and begin to punch his torso, arms or whatever I could reach

“I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I AM NOW A FUCKING BACKSTAGE GOSSIP SUBJECT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE SO FULL OF YOURSELF AREN’T YOU HUH? SHITTY ASS GASTÓN!”

I was starting to loose my strength due to my ferocious attack, and I would be damned if I let him see that...

When suddenly everything changed, the air in the room thickened and I saw myself now pressed against the door with my hands forcefully pinned on top of my head.

“Aww, that was sweet princess” He smirks confidently

“What are you doing Drew? Let me go” I murmured

“Oh it’s Drew now huh? Why the sudden change love? What happened with ‘Scottish prick, asshole and Gastón’?” He cackled “What’s wrong princess? Not feeling so confident and in charge anymore are we?” He pouts

“You’re hurting me” I lied

“Nu uh, we both know that, that’s a lie. I know you Y/N, every inch of you so don’t you lie to me now! That’s not what pretty little girls like you do” He reprimanded me

I felt confused and slightly turned on by his whole dominant character. But still I felt the urge to fight back.

“And what do you know about me McIntyre? NOTHING! So don’t YOU dare to pretend that you do! You know nothing about who I am or my needs, so quit the act”

He laughed before saying “And that’s where you’re wrong princess” He towered over me, securing my wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed my cheeks making my lips pout(like one would with a child) and tilted my head up to meet his blue gaze.

“You see Y/N, we’ve known each other for what? 5 years? I’ve done a lot of observing in those years... I became quite good at reading you” He leaned forward..his beard,lips and mustache brushing against my own lips

“So I know for a fact that what triggered you into fighting Carmella wasn’t what she said...But the fact that what she said is true” He searched my eyes for confirmation and when he found it he smirks in appreciation

A murmured ‘Fuck you’ came out of my lips the best way I could since he had this vicious grip on my cheeks.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N... what am I going to do with you princess?” He asks amused as he release my cheeks “I must say though... I agree with almost everything Carmella said” He vaguely added

Pure humiliation filled me, the thought of him knowing that deep down I had a thing for him which wasn’t reciprocal at all made my stomach turn. I felt the tears of humiliation start to rise to my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see that he had broken me. Instead I reached for the safety of the one thing I knew I could do: fight!

“You let me go right now you fucker or I swear you will regret it!” I said as threatening as I could

“Oh my, won’t you look at that? Kitty has claws huh?” He chuckled lightly

I took advantage of his distraction and yanked my arms as fast as I could out of his grip. The action caught him by surprise, giving me the upper hand to turn around to unlock the door so I could leave. But his surprise didn’t last long as for he saw what I was about to do and pressed me against the door once more, instead now my back was the one facing him so he pressed his semi hard bulge up against my ass with my hands and face now pressed on the wooden door.

“Where do you think you are going princess? We’re not done talking just yet” He whispers in my ear, making my whole body shiver.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me” His lips were glued to my ear “I almost, I said almost, agree with everything that she said..except for one thing”

“If you’re gonna say that-“

“Maybe I’ll have to buy you a ball gag, since you don’t seem to ever know when to shut up...or maybe I should choke you instead,what do you say?”

I gulped loudly

“Or even better, I should fuck your mouth..bury my cock so deep on your throat that you will have no other option but drool all over yourself” He pressed his bulge harder against my ass “, that will make you shut up! I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look with my cock shoved down your throat” He moaned “Would you like that princess? Would you like for me to show you where’s your place? Where you really belong?” He grinds his erection on my ass and the feeling makes me moan softly

“Drew...” I pleaded

“The only thing I don’t agree with Carmella” He continues his previous statement ignoring my plea “Is that I’m too much of a man for you. To be honest I think you’re the only woman in this company who can actually handle me! The only one who will love and beg to be fucked faster and rougher..” His hands let go of my wrists and roam down to cup my breasts roughly, pulling me even closer to his body

“The only one who is the perfect fit for me...who will let me use every single hole as I please” He bites my ear making me gasp for more air.

“Won’t you Y/N? Do you want me to use you like the good little whore that you are?”

My head was buzzing with excitement, I could feel the now very wet pool of desire in between my legs. To think that all of my darkest fantasies with this man were about to come true made me moan a faint ‘Yes’ to him

He grunts at my positive response while one of his big hands unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so his hand could sink down the fabric to find my very wet core.

“Hmmm I’ve been waiting 5 years for this lass...Fuck, you already feel amazing on my hand I can’t wait to feel this pretty little pussy around my cock” He growls

“Fuck Drew, please” I whisper

“It’s Sir to you, my good little pet” He smirked “Now tell me, do you think I should fuck you right here, right now so that everyone in this company can hear me make you my fuck toy or should we head back to the hotel? What do you say pet?” He asks as his fingers firmly circles my clit making my legs shake

“W- Whatever pleases you Sir” I stuttered

“I see you’re a quick learner huh?” He chuckles amused “I say, let’s show this roster who is the only woman who can properly handle me” He says as he removed his fingers from my core and licked them clean while staring at me. I softly moan to that scene and he smiles deviously before whispering

“Strip now pet and show what a beautiful fuck toy you are for Sir”

To be continued...

Please let me know if you would like to see a part 2 🥺?

#drew mcintyre #drew galloway #drew mcintyre one shot #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre smut #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes

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jamiemackenziefraser · 3 years

Text

All That Was Fair

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

Summary: Claire and Jamie begin to settle in with each other, and Claire continues to experience human oddities.

Read on AO3

Read chp 19 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

***

If Jamie thought Claire had been touchy before, nothing compared to the amount of contact they had now that they were together. Her hands— or lips— were all over him at the most unexpected moments (and the expected moments as well, to be fair). Not that Jamie was complaining. Though every bit of contact still brought a blush to his cheeks and made his heart race so fast it could have torn out of his chest, he never wanted her to stop.

It had been two days since the fateful trip to Craigh na Dun and the following declarations of love. Two days since she’d decided to stay with him— bloody fool that he was. Two days of bliss with the love of his life.

He’d left her that morning still asleep in their (their!) room. Her limbs had been strewn all over the place, making her look like a starfish sprawled on the bed. After disentangling himself from underneath her wee but aggressive arm, he’d placed a kiss to her temple, smiling with contentment that she was his to wake up to and kiss every morning.

Standing then in front of the stove, flipping his pancakes absently, he thanked God for the blessing of her. He breathed in a long sigh and tried to fully appreciate the perfection of his life.

The quiet was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist, making him jump.

“Did you forget about me?” A silky voice asked, lips brushing the back of his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Claire must have been standing on her tiptoes to reach him.

He placed his own hands over top of hers, hugging her arms, and swayed slightly back and forth to take her with him where she was pressed against his back. Affection welled up inside him, so strong that he was nearly overcome.

“I couldna forget ye, mo chridhe. I only didna want tae wake ye up. Ye looked sae bonny and peaceful.”

“You should have. I don’t like being in the… what is it called again?—”

“Bed,” Jamie answered automatically.

“Bed. I don’t like being in bed without you. Besides, I quite like how you wake me.”

A blush rose in Jamie’s cheeks as he thought about how he’d kissed her awake the past two mornings. He loved seeing her sleepy eyes open and her smile as she met the day with the sight of him. How her lips would grow more eager as she regained consciousness…

“I’m verra sorry for leavin’ ye,” he apologized, turning around in her arms so he could loop his own around her waist, “whatever can I do tae make it up tae ye?”

Claire hummed, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful, and then tapped a finger on her cheek expectantly.

Happy to oblige, Jamie leaned down and placed a kiss at the indicated spot. Claire smiled in response, looking like a cat that got the cream. She then tapped the other cheek, and Jamie was quick to give it the same treatment, this time letting his lips linger for a long moment. Her smile widening, she pointed to her forehead.

“Awfully demanding, are ye no’?” Jamie accused warmly before pressing an obedient kiss there.

Claire just murmured an assent— apparently completely willing to own it— before her wee finger was placed over her lips.

It took Jamie only the length of a heartbeat to cover her mouth with his own, uncaring of trivial things like morning breath or whether or not Claire would be able to taste the residual pancake batter on his lips. If she could, she didn’t mind, because she spent the next minute withdrawing half a centimeter only to kiss him again, her tongue less than timid as she indulged herself. He found it unreasonably enjoyable, and his hand wandered up to cup the back of her head to keep her mouth on his.

Her appreciative murmur vibrated his lips, and that only served to encourage him all the more.

But he was interrupted from his task by Claire drawing back enough to gasp, “do you smell that?”

Tearing his eyes away from her puffy lips, he turned around toward the stove to see that his pancakes— really now more black lumps— had smoke rising from them in active billows.

“Christ!” he swore, at the same time as the smoke detector began to go off.

At the shrill noise, Claire let out a startled cry and smacked her hands over her ears. Jamie didn't have time to reassure her as he lunged toward the burning pancakes and tore them off the heat. He juggled them with one hand and turned on the fan with the other before shutting off the stove. With everything going wrong, of course it was that very moment when the handle of his old pan decided to snap, and the bowl of the pan (smoking pancakes included), started to fall. On instinct, Jamie grabbed for it with his free hand. Pain shot through him on contact, and he hissed as he jerked his hand away, allowing the damn thing to tumble to the ground. He jumped out of the way, smashing into Claire, who still was holding her hands over her ears and looking terrified.

Exclaiming some rather colorful words, Jamie reached out his not burnt hand to steady Claire.

“Sorry, lass. It’s okay, dinna fash,” he said with a raised voice over the obnoxious beeping of the fire alarm directly over their head.

“What’s that sound?” Claire yelled out, looked very distressed with her wide eyes and hunched shoulders.

“It’ll stop in a second,” he shouted.

Sure enough, as the smoking mess on the floor subsided, the smoke detector went quiet. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

Claire, the poor thing, looked nearly ready to cry.

“It was jes’ the smoke alarm, mo nighean donn,” he tried to reassure, “the sound makes sure that I ken there’s a fire so I can put it out.”

“I did not like that,” she said with a shake of her head, shuddering.

“I’m sorry, a leannan, come here.”

Drawing her close, Jamie gave his faerie a cuddle. She melted into him, and the tension flowed from her muscles as soon as he enveloped her. It made Jamie swell with a certain satisfaction to comfort her over something so trivial, as if he were some knight in shining armor who’d rescued the fair maiden from the beastly alarm— only he’d actually been the one to cause it in the first place and he hadn’t done anything but make a mess while trying to solve it.

As if suddenly remembering, or perhaps she could sense the slight sting in his fingers, Claire drew back and exclaimed, “give me your hand!”

Smiling but a bit nervous, Jamie held out his hand for her. He watched with anticipation as the soft golden light emanated from her hands as they formed a cup around his. This time, instead of watching the light, he turned his head up to look at Claire’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, lines etched in her face as she focused all her energy. She blinked hard once, shook her head, and went back to staring down at their joined hands. Jamie felt the tingling warmth flow through him, making his hand buzz with energy. The pain began to subside, and the determined expression on her bonny features eased. After half a second more, the light faded from her palms. She didn’t let go, but stroked his now perfect fingers between her hands.

To add the finishing touch, she brought his hand to her lips and began to kiss each finger one by one. Her lips were soft; her kisses more healing than even her energy.

“Ye make a good nurse,” Jamie said in a gravely tone, enraptured by her gentle touches.

“Hmmm?” she murmured, still focused on her task. Finishing with his pinky, she curled his fingers down and pressed one last feather-light kiss to his knuckles.

“Ye’re a fine healer, Sassenach,” Jamie amended. He brought his newly healed finger tips up under her chin and tilted her face up toward him. “And I’m verra grateful ye’re mine.”

He leaned in to give her a proper kiss. She didn’t respond as enthusiastically as usual, but her lips molded to his and in a passive sort of way. He chalked it up to her nerves over the alarm and concern over his injury, but it still disturbed him because she had never responded in this way.

Following his resolution to communicate better, he pulled back and asked while cupping her face with a tender hand, “are ye alright, mo chridhe?”

The smile she mustered seemed forced, which didn’t do much to ease his worries. “I’m fine,” she said, “just felt strange for a second, it’s nothing.”

He kept studying her for another long second, but she remained firm in her statement without adding anything else. With a dip of his shoulders, he decided to let it go.

“I’m sorry about that, my sweet one,” he said with a self-deprecating shake of his head, “I didna mean for all this chaos this morning.”

“It’s not your fault, Jamie,” she countered. The newly growing smile seemed much more genuine again as she added, “I probably shouldn’t have distracted you while you were making…”

“Pancakes,” Jamie filled in.

“Pancakes,” she echoed, looking thoughtful.

She was trying to learn words as much as she could, and Jamie found that he quite liked his role as tutor. At least he quite liked rewarding her for her learning of new vocabulary.

“And the word for the first meal of the day, do ye recall?” he quizzed.

Looking up at him with a triumphant expression, she exclaimed, “breakfast.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed approvingly, “that’s verra good.”

He leaned down and gave her a soft, gentle peck on the lips, and as he drew back, he found she was smiling.

“You’re a very good teacher, you know,” she said, “maybe soon I’ll start teaching you another language and see if you’re as good of a student. Which one would you prefer?”

Jamie laughed, “maybe we take it one step at a time. I can barely keep up wi’ things as it is. Maybe we start wi’ fair folk culture and go on from there.”

“Deal,” she agreed.

“Anyway,” he said, marveling a little at her ability to get him sidetracked, “it seems my breakfast has been ruined. Perhaps ye’ll give me a wee moment tae grab somethin’ else?”

“Hmmm,” Claire looked gravely ponderous as she considered his request, “I suppose I’ll allow it just this once.”

Jamie rolled his eyes with a smile that betrayed how happy moments like these made him. He took a step away from her, already mourning the loss, and headed over to the pantry.

As he stood debating between the merits of cereal or a granola bar (both required no cooking, thank you very much), hands suddenly snaked their way under his shirt. He stiffened in surprise at first, and then relaxed as the hands started to stroke up and down the length of his back.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to see Claire behind him looking innocently up at him. He raised a brow.

“What are ye doin’, lass?” he asked.

She gave a little shrug but did not remove her hands. “Touching you.”

There’s his faerie.

“Is that no’ what got us in trouble in the first place?”

She gave a little hum that said I can’t argue with that, but then countered, “I don’t think I care.”

Forgetting all about breakfast, Jamie whirled around. He grabbed the backs of her legs and hoisted her up into his arms. She let out a squeal but quickly got with the program, wrapping her legs around Jamie’s middle and her arms around his neck.

As he held her tightly against him, their fronts smashed together, he turned his face to catch her mouth and kiss her fervently. Those perfect lips against his seemed almost victorious as she pressed them to his just as passionately. A hum of satisfaction rose from her, making Jamie nearly drop her with how watery it made his legs.

After a long moment of enjoying her mouth against his, he finally drew back.

“I dinna ken how every time I kiss ye it feels like the first time,” he breathed.

“And I don’t understand how the first time I kissed you it felt like the hundredth time,” she agreed.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, smiling so hard his face felt like it would split and tightening his grip on her thighs, “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you, James Fraser,” she replied, her gaze soft with adoration.

Jamie went to put her down then, releasing his grip on her legs and expecting her weight to drop off of him. Only instead of her legs unwrapping from his waist and her hopping down, she clung to him stubbornly.

As he brought his hands far out to the each side to marvel at the barnacle that seemed to be glued to him, Claire tightened her hold.

“A leannan,” he chuckled, “are ye no’ getting down, then?”

“Don’t think so,” she said from where her face was pressed into his neck.

He let out a very Scottish noise from deep in his throat. With one hand, he held her against him just to keep her steady, and with the other, he turned back to the pantry and began rooting through the items.

He withdrew victorious with a granola bar from the package, and he held it up behind him to the wee faerie.

“Care tae help me wi’ this seein’ as I only have one hand at the moment?”

“Of course, darling,” she obliged.

One of her hands reached out to grab it. Still keeping both arms around his neck, she somehow managed to tear open the package (much like a child would— she still hadn’t gotten that human task down) and then handed it back to him.

It was beginning to get real to Jamie just how little personal space he would ever have again.

And he loved it.

“Thank ye, wee one,” he said before taking a bite. Curious fingers began to thread into his hair as he did, making it extremely hard to concentrate on the simple task of breakfast. Fingertips pressed delightfully into the nape of his neck and tangled into the soft curls there.

His throat felt tight as she caressed him, making it hard for him to swallow. It wasn’t his fault that her every brazen touch turned him into a besotted sap…

“Are ye going tae go through my whole mornin’ routine wi’ me?” he asked, shoving the last of the granola bar into his mouth, still rooted in the same spot by the pantry.

Christ, this lass made it impossible for him to eat a meal slowly and in peace. Impatient thing.

The fingers paused their exploration. “Most certainly.”

“Well, we might as well have some fun wi’ it then. I ken ye dinna need it because ye dinna eat, but would ye care tae learn how tae brush yer teeth?”

She drew back so she could look at him with eyes alight with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Ye’ll see.”

Upstairs in the bathroom, Jamie somehow managed to detach his clingy faerie. She let go reluctantly, dangling her feet down and allowing Jamie to deposit her onto the ground. Once he was free, he stooped down to find a new toothbrush from the cabinet. Finding one from the dentist a few months ago, he let out an aha and held it triumphantly up to Claire.

“And you use that on your teeth?” she asked warily.

“Aye. It’s called a toothbrush. Watch.”

Demonstrating with his own toothbrush, Jamie wet it before applying toothpaste and sticking it in his mouth. In what was likely a comical expression, he bared his teeth and exaggeratedly brushed the bristles over it.

Claire was giving him a look of distaste and near horror that made his wame twitch with hilarity.

He switched his brushing to go further back into his mouth, making her eyes go even wider.

“Are you sure this is nothing like eating?” she asked, apparently still a bit traumatized from the incident with the spaghetti that first night.

“No,” Jamie laughed through the toothpaste in his mouth, “it jes’ cleans yer teeth after ye’ve eaten. Ye dinna actually swallow the toothbrush.”

He rinsed and spit before straightening up to face a still dubious Claire.

“Ready tae try, lass?”

She wrinkled her nose a little but gave a nod.

Jamie prepared her toothbrush for her. As he approached her, she eyed him with a wide eyed look of apprehension mixed with curious excitement. She opened her mouth tentatively like a nervous child at the dentist.

He cupped his free hand around the back of her head, his thumb making soothing circles. Then, slowly, so as not to startle her, he placed the bristles onto her teeth.

It was his expectation that she’d jerk away in disgust the moment it touched her, but she stayed still. He gently moved the bristles back and forth, very lightly over her front teeth, and she blinked rapidly and sucked a sharp breath in through her nose.

“Alright, lass?” he asked with a smile as she froze underneath his hand.

She gave a nod, and he continued, rubbing the toothbrush just over the front of her teeth. He felt it as she relaxed, the buzzing tension easing as she came to the realization that this was, in fact, not torture— nor anything like eating.

She made a “huh” sound from deep in her throat, and Jamie withdrew the toothbrush so she could speak.

“It feels… kind of nice,” she said slowly.

“Aye. I ken ye dinna really need tae clean yer teeth since ye dinna eat to dirty them in the first place, but…” he eyed her with a gleam in his eye and a smirk, “if ye’re gonna be puttin’ that mouth on me all day long, ye might as well taste minty fresh.”

To his great enjoyment, Claire flushed, looking at the same time like she felt embarrassed and also wanted to kiss him some more.

“Here, lass,” he said, “wash yer mouth out.”

He handed her a cup of water, and she mimicked what he had done earlier and rinsed.

Once she was done, she straightened up and looked at him expectantly, as if there was some last step to be completed.

“Now,” Jamie said, the corners of his mouth pulling up, “I’ll find out how ye taste, aye?”

***

#noaprilfools #really it’s just a chapter #I had to check like 3 times that it really was chapter 19 #wow #all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

Text

Never Forget, Never Regret (1/?)

Levi Ackerman X Reader (But like, less than normal?)

A/N: Blame that conversation I had with Suz a couple weeks ago for this one. #BEST DECOY CLUB!!! - Nemo

Summary: They’ve always been a duo, riding along the exact same path in the exact same way. But then they aren’t, and (y/n) can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

Warnings: Character Death. General AoT themes. Blood. Injuries.

Listening to: ‘Apple Seed’ - Attack on Titan OST (Bertholdt Transformation Theme) - ‘Old man please remember me.’

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Eventually, when someone's faced with something that they're unable to overcome, they have to make a decision. Keep fighting, and overcome the situation. Or get help, find someone who can overcome it.

These two Scouts managed to do both.

When they were in the training corps they met someone who they soon came to realized was a lot like the other. And to this day they had yet to meet anyone who didn't think they both were absolutely insane.

Training s cadets was more a time they'd both spend bonding rather than actually training - even if an obscene amount of training did get done anyway. It was like they both really wanted to be there. They'd blabber on about how each other would kill the titans, how efficient they both could be if they tried the odm gear this way or that. They would keep score when they spared, rewarding whoever 'won' with some of the loser's food at dinner. The most unusual of all the things they did was probably joining the Scouting Legion - without flinching, or a single second thought.

No one would think that was a good choice, not until a boy came years after they both joined. He had the same pure, unrestrained audacity as both of them did - and did he latch on to their examples like a man starved.

On their first expedition beyond the walls, everyone thought they'd both die. Not because they were inexperienced or lacking skills - they both were some of the top ranking in the whole cadets - however they were also self-destructive.

When the time came to using the odm gear to avoid the titans during the expedition, they went nothing short of buckwild.

Their superior was horrified. The other Scouts were shocked into awe. And when they returned within the walls, their superior's superior wanted to 'ground' them both for recklessness. However, like some angel of death, second chances, and blond hair, Erwin Smith came and simply asked for them both to be transferred to his section. Erwin, being new to his higher position in the Scouts, was seen as just gathering people to join his expeditions.

The two had been outside the walls. Riden. Fought. Lived. Protected. In fact, despite their reckless moves and haphazard techniques, they'd been a great help - only three people came back to be buried, and one didn’t come back at all.

A new record.

Erwin didn't understand how bad they must've been, facts considered. Not until he saw them in action too.

Then and there, in a forest filled with titans, he knew.

They were smiling. Laughing. They both sounded like they were having the time of their lives. He concluded they were absolutely bonkers. But in a flash, he also knew they were going to be useful.

They went ahead, letting out whoops and cheers, while watching each other's backs, but they drew a lot of the titans to themselves too. They put themselves into a buttload of danger, but the other Scouts, especially the new cadets, were having it much easier. Erwin could see a method to the madness, even if they themselves couldn't, and from then on he decided he'd use it as best he could.

And that's exactly what happened.

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You hung up your saddle, fixing up the stirrups, and deciding to not clean it today, as much as Levi might nag you about it later. You did do it last week, and again lightly before you left yesterday.

After today, however, you had a feeling he'd be lenient.

Despite how Erwin planned, and how the Cadet Armin offered his opinion, the losses counted were not something you, nor your titan-killing counterpart could've stopped. Said counterpart soon appeared at your side.

By now you could tell when it was her behind you and when it was Hange trying to test your 'connection'. You could tell she was going to say something, just from the way she let out a huff. Turning, you saw she was looking slightly disheveled, which was odd considering how kept she normally looked.

And for once, you didn't know what to say to make her or yourself feel better.

"I'll miss them," she said, saving you from having to say anything, "But we've got to keep fighting. For them."

"Never regret." You said, lifting a fist up to her, and she mirrored you, her fist now touching yours.

"Never forget." She finished.

"Oi, (y/n), Nerva. Erwin wants the both of you in the dining hall." Levi said, appearing from thin air to startle you both half out of your skins. "Now." he added after a beat.

"Yessir." She drawled, earning a scowl from the short captain. Even though you'd both been here longer than him, he still thought he had more authority than you. Nerva said it was because he was 'so old', but you were pretty sure it was just because of how skilled he was. You worked a lot on luck, and he didn't like leaving things to chance and bets.

"Sure thing Levi." You said. If one of you were going to be less than pleasant, then it was probably going to be you. It helped that you had a soft spot for him.

You both watched Levi eye you one more time, before he left. No sooner had he left, then Nerva had a hand on your shoulder.

"'Sure thing Levi'," she started, mocking you in a hushed and too goodie-two-shoed voice, "Also, I love you and want to marry you and have your babies please, Mr. Captain Levi Sir."

You laid a heavy backhand on her shoulder.

"Shut up!" You scolded, "After everything that happened today, you're doing that?" She smiled sadly, shrugging with a hand on her shoulder.

"Humour makes it easier for me. You know I don't cry, ever, so this is second best." she said, "And you know, well might I add, that if Petra were still here I'd be doing it to her too. The both of you were groupies."

Your eyes darkened, a ghost of a wicked smirk flashing on your face before you returned to your stoick look.

"I supposed I shouldn't bring up that 'meeting' you had with Miche and Erwin then. Without me." You said, sticking your nose in the air. "You and I both know we always go to meetings together. That one was suspicious."

Nerva sputtered as you took off towards the main building, catching up to your side with a few quick strides.

"I've sworn that was just a meeting, nothing happened!"

"Sure sure."

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They had a plan.

The Cadet Armin thought he knew who the Female Titan was, and as a group you'd all come up and approve a plan.

You and Nerva didn't have a lot to do, if you were to compare this mission to normal circumstances. Your main job was to make sure things didn't go too out of hand, and to take civilians out of the way if they couldn't in time. Your unprecedented odm moves would be utilized, just like Erwin normally did, and Nerva was practically vibrating for a chance to catapult and slingshot through narrow streets.

You hadn't done something like that since the 104th Cadets joined the Garrison and Scouts to help with the second wall breach.

Standing atop a rooftop each, you and Nerva huddle behind some chimney's. You both share a couple looks, and you knew what she was saying.

'Something's gonna happen. Something bad.'

And you couldn't help but agree. You don't survive this long in the Scouts without getting an intuition. A sixth sense for when things are going to turn sour. This was one of those times you were right.

The sky rumbled, shaking the building you were on, and there was a bright flash of light. You slid down the roof but caught yourself, and Nerva surged forward with a stumble.

"Damn," she swore, hands on her odm handles, "It really was Annie."

You turned and climbed back up the roof to see what Nerva saw - the same blonde-haired titan that had killed your friends.

"That's a titan I'd cut to splinters." Nerva muttered.

"She's just a kid," you said, also reaching for your gear, "I bet she doesn't know any different." She clicked her tongue, before pointing around.

"Let's get moving. I'll tell Erwin, you tell Hange. Collect and corral civilians on the way if you have time. Go, go, go!"

You both had an intuition that day - that something bad would happen. At the time you didn't know how bad that thing was. But you found out.

Annie and the Female Titan soon became the least of your problems.

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Series Taglist: @miss-consulting-timelord (idk if you did want to be tagged or what, but all things considered?)

Taglist is Open!

#the adventures #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan x reader #shinjeki no kyojin x reader #erwin smith #oc x reader?

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mostly-marvel-musings · 4 years

Text

The Outsider

Request: Enemies to lovers with Thor by @jennie22feona I hope you like this love ;)) This was a challenge because Thor is so lovable. Happy reading!

Fall Prompts Masterlist

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff, a few curse words.

Permanent Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @raspberrymama @littlegasps @swaggysposts

Send me an ask if you wish to be tagged!

Word count: 2.1k oops!

…

“Well if you don’t try, it won’t get better now, will it?”

Steve reasoned, patting Thor’s shoulder as he passed him, carrying his dish out to the dining room where the team were gathered for dinner. Thor frowned looking down at his own plate, staring at the lasagna you’d made for everyone.

It was one of those rare times when he was staying at the compound, not busy saving the nine realms. The team got together for meals more frequently after the Ultron incident.

A real sense of family developed over the years, friendships were formed as new people became a part of the Avengers. Thor had no problems getting along with anyone in the past, except you.

He met you during the battle of New York, watching you fight like the strongest warrior alongside Natasha and Clint with your unparalleled combat skills.However, you seemed distant and gave him a cold shoulder when the team hung out. Every attempt of making conversation was met with an eye-roll or a look of disgust, and usually ended up with you walking away from the scene.

Thor sauntered out to join the rest, taking a seat right opposite you and digging in.

“Oh (Y/N), this is delicious.”

“Indeed. So tasty.”

Everyone complimented your dish, as you looked around the room, positively beaming. You met Thor’s eyes and he gave you an awkward smile, clearing his throat before shoving a large bite in his mouth.

“You know Asgardian feasts are the greatest. Nothing can ever compare.” He smiled proudly, hoping you’d appreciate his ‘attempt’ to make nice.

Steve shook his head in exasperation, while your smile disappeared. You went back to concentrating on your food, jamming the fork in the food a bit too forcefully and muttering,

“Well it’s not bloody Asgard.”

Nat placed her hand on yours soothingly, and turned to look at Steve, who was equally bothered.

“I’m sure about that Thor, but (Y/N) here has prepared this lovely meal for all of us, don’t you think that’s nice?”

Thor opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off,

“Don’t bother Steve. It’s fine.”

Everybody remained relatively quiet for the rest of the dinner, Clint tried to break the awkwardness recalling funny incidents that happened during the last mission.

Thor kept stealing glances at you, guilty for having made you this upset. He’d actually enjoyed the food quite a bit, but his efforts at making small talk had left you deflated.

…

Two weeks had passed since you’d last seen the proud Asgardian God, not that you would ever admit you had been counting.

You were busy chasing potential Hydra leads with Steve, who on multiple occasions mentioned that Thor was trying to get to know you better but didn’t know how to.

“He’s so stuck up and proud, I just can’t stand him Steve!” you’d stated.

The captain had tried to play mediator several times before, however it hadn’t gone too smoothly. You expressed that it was best to not try anymore, some people just don’t click.

After a particularly tiring sparring session one evening, you strolled into the kitchen to grab a drink, when you heard cabinets opening and closing as you approached. Thor was searching for food, you deduced, as you watched his rummaging from the kitchen doorway.

You didn’t want to face another awkward conversation, so you figured you would just tip-toe around the fridge, grab a drink and get away without him noticing.

Having successfully retrieved a bottle of beer, you turned away from the fridge and collided against the large chest of the God of Thunder, who had chosen at that exact moment to walk out.

You hit your bum pretty hard on the marble floor, back going next but Thor’s instincts kicked in and he saved your head by placing a hand underneath while bracing his body with his other hand to prevent crushing you. The beer bottle smashed from your hand splashing liquid everywhere, as a yelp left your mouth.

“Lady (Y/N) I am so very sorry, I did not see you. Are you hurt?”

His voice soft, worried as you felt his breath on your cheek, you had shut your eyes on impact, scared that you were just about smushed.

Peeking an eye open, you saw Thor’s face right over yours, brilliant blue eyes studying your face, concerned. You felt frozen, lying on the kitchen floor with Thor’s body on top of yours.

“I’m fine.” The creeping pain in your back and ass said otherwise, with Thor’s help you scrambled to a standing position, heat warming your cheeks, heart still racing. You were very much aware of Thor’s grip on your upper arm as he still ran his eyes over your sweat-covered gym clothes.

A sharp sting in your left hand drew your attention there and you saw a piece of glass lodged in the side of your palm, blood trickling from it. Thor saw it too, jumping into action as he grabbed a towel from the counter and approached you.

Exhaling loudly you braced yourself, carefully pulled the shard out, more blood rushing to the surface. Tears stung in your eyes as you pressed the towel down on the cut.

“Probably need stitches.” You muttered as the towel changed color from white to red, already walking out of the kitchen.

“Please allow me to assist you, Lady (Y/N).” he called after you, following you towards the elevator.

“Uh no, I think you’ve done enough.” Muttering rudely, you entered the elevator and pressed the button to the compound’s infirmary.

Thor followed you anyway, stayed by your side while you got stitches in the med bay, explaining to the nurse how it was completely his fault, even riding the elevator back with you to your apartment floor after the wound was attended to.

You didn’t say much the entire time, pangs of guilt coursing through at his thoughtfulness. Discourteous as you had been, this man still tried his best to help but, your stubborn self refused to admit it was all your mistake.

…

Leaning on Steve for support, you limped towards the common area for a movie night. You had a sprained ankle from your latest mission that hadn’t quite healed yet and was bandaged.

“Easy. Are you comfortable?” Steve carefully propped your leg on the wooden table, before placing a small pillow underneath.

“As I’ll ever be. Thank you Rogers.” You gave his hand a grateful squeeze and placed the large bowl of popcorn in your lap.

“Your hand isn’t fully healed yet. Seems like you’re losing your edge, (Y/L/N).”

Glaring at his statement, you already regretted telling him about the kitchen incident. All hopes of this embarrassing event staying between two friends had gone to shit when Nat and Sam brought it up earlier today and Steve hid his face, sniggering.

“I’m not losing anything, you’re about to lose your arm if you keep this up.” You threatened, though you both knew you were kidding.

Your banter got cut short when the Asgardian God walked into the room, swinging Mjolnir in one hand and a large candy bar in the other.

You had literally been avoiding him ever since, excusing yourself to fake phone calls when he was around, eating dinners alone in your room under the pretext of wanting to be with yourself.

And now, knowing Steve – Mr Goody-two-shoes, he would ask Thor to join you here, and he did just that.

“Hey Thor, we’re watching old classics today, come join us.”

Steve ignored your death stare and continued to look at Thor expectantly, who seemed undecided for a bit, but then smiled and walked over to the couch, accepting Steve’s invite.

You threw a handful of popcorn at Steve when Thor wasn’t looking, he merely shrugged, mouthing ‘you-should-talk-to-him’.

Thor took a seat next to you, keeping a considerable distance in between while you resumed the movie. Halfway through it, Steve made an excuse to go to the bathroom only to never return, leaving you alone with the Asgardian.

You’d fallen asleep before the movie got over, not realizing when Thor had covered you with a blanket or when he’d moved closer to support your head on his shoulder.

The noisy crunch of popcorn from your right, brought you back to consciousness as you noticed the bowl now in Thor’s lap, and his other hand wrapped securely around your shoulders.

He was so warm. You didn’t have the heart to move away.

“I’m sorry did I wake you?” he asked, removing his hand away, much to your disappointment.

“Yeah. It’s—it’s fine though.”

Scrambling a foot away, the previous distance returning, you felt your cheeks flush.

A few minutes passed as you both watched the second movie that had begun, before Thor broke the silence.

“How did you injure your ankle?” pointing to the bandaged limb.

“If I tell you, you’ll laugh. It’s embarrassing.”

“I will do no such thing, you have my word.” He replied sincerely, turning to face you fully.

You began telling the story honestly, how after the mission you were walking towards the jet and accidently tripped on a previously unseen stone that had resulted in a nasty sprain. You skipped the part of how actually your mind had wandered to the day you and Thor had that kitchen mishap.

He seemed genuinely concerned for you after hearing it and like he promised did not laugh.

“You know the healers on Asgard would’ve been able to mend it in no time.” He added.

“Your ability to bring your Godly realm into every conversation blows my mind, really.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“Well, all of you have such incredible stories from Midgard to share, and I feel like an outsider, I just thought sharing stories from my home planet would make for interesting conversation. Which I now realize is the cause of your annoyance, so I’m really sorry about that.”

He frowned, a sad look flashing in his face, before he replaced it with an understanding smile.

You felt terribly guilty for never having thought it that way. He was just trying to make conversation. He was a literal outsider, always taking great interest in wanting to know about ‘Earthly traditions’, having nothing to add to that hence sharing his Asgardian tales.

Wow. And you had been a real bitch about it this whole time.

Suddenly Steve’s words came back to you, all he wanted was try and get to know you better. Well now, it seemed like you had blown your chance of that ever happening as you kept staring down at your hands, unable to form a response.

“It seems like my presence is no longer wanted, I’ll leave you be, Lady (Y/N), enjoy your eve—” Thor began but you cut him off.

“No wait! Please.” You said almost too loudly, grabbing his wrist as he was half rising from his seat.

“I owe you an apology, several to be honest. You have been nothing but kind to me and I was a bitch. That little kitchen accident was all on me, I tried to sneak past you because I wanted to avoid an awkward situation. You helped me through that even though I was so rude. Hell, I even faked being busy to avoid dinners. This makes me such a terrible person and I am so sorry Thor. You didn’t deserve it, really I’m so so—”

In all of your gesture-filled apology frenzy, you had missed Thor leaning in slowly with an amused expression on his face, before his lips made contact with yours taking you by surprise.

His soft lips covered yours, hands moving to cup your face gently as he kissed you, feeling you relax against him and return the kiss.

It ended sooner than you’d hoped, breaking apart you found yourself grinning like an idiot, touching your lips, as if to make sure it had really happened.

“You’re not a terrible person (Y/N). You’re a strong, poised warrior. Maybe a little set in your ways.” The God added quietly, making you giggle as your forehead landed against his chest.

After a few moments you figured it was time to head back to bed, seeing as it was way past midnight. With Thor’s help you stood up, who ducked down and took your hand in his.

“Allow me to escort you back to your chambers.”

All you could manage was a shy nod, and he had effortlessly picked you up and had begun walking towards your room.

From a dark corner, Steve groaned as he removed a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to Natasha who had a victorious grin on her face.

#thor odinson x reader #steve rogers x platonic reader #thor odinson fluff #enemies to lovers #thor fanfiction #steve rogers #thor odinson imagine #marvel family #the avengers x reader #fall prompts #request #age of ultron #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

Text

Arachnophobia

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Living in the Tower surrounded by superheroes can make you think your own fears don’t matter. Luckily, Loki is there to save you, both from yourself and the spiders invading your room. Warnings: one very disgusting run-in with a spider; fluff A/N: Shoutout to that one very weird looking spider in my backyard that inspired this.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!”

Peter was walking by your room when you screamed. He burst through the door, ready to web up whoever was attacking you.

“Where’s the bad guy, (y/n)?” he questioned frantically.

You pointed toward the wall opposite the bed you were standing on. He turned and quizzically raised an eyebrow. Finally, he saw the spider and walked over to it. He put his finger out and it crawled onto him. “You mean this little guy?” he chuckled. “But it’s so cute.”

“No. No, it most definitely is not,” you quickly countered. “And it’s, like, the fifth one this week. Please, just take it out of here.”

Peter shrugged and waved goodbye, walking out with the spider. You would have preferred he killed it, but you weren’t going to ask him to do that. He was Spiderman, after all. You were glad it was him who rescued you, though. Truth is, you were embarrassed of how terrified spiders made you. You would have been mortified if Tony or Nat or Thor walked in on you. And oh god, if it had been Loki you might have died. You didn’t want to appear weak or helpless to your crush. He teases you all the time as it is; you didn’t need to give him any more ammunition. Thankfully, he and most of the team were out, and you were able to avoid any questions. You hoped that that would be the last spider you saw for a while.

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One sleepless week later, you were about to cave and ask for help. The spider sightings were, unfortunately, becoming more frequent. You’d started having nightmares about spiders crawling all over your skin, leaving you with a disturbing tingly sensation when you woke up. If that wasn’t enough to keep you up at night, that old urban legend about swallowing eight spiders in your sleep each year kept finding it’s way to the forefront of your mind.

Determined to get some sleep, you made your way to one of the Tower’s numerous common areas. So far, the spiders were only in your room, but you hadn’t mentioned the problem to anyone yet. You spread the cozy blanket from your bed over yourself and got comfortable on the plushy couch. You’d brought a book too, just to have an excuse for why you were sleeping on the couch in case of a run-in with one of the team’s resident insomniacs.Not that you had to worry about that. You were so tired that you were out cold the second your head hit the cushion.

What could have been hours but felt like minutes later, you were awoken by a very familiar prickly sensation on your arm. Assuming it was just the product of one of your nightmares, you tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. Much to your dismay, the feeling only became more prominent the longer you were awake. Cracking an eye open, you barely managed to stifle a scream. Sure enough, there was a spider crawling up your arm, nearly under your sleeve now. In an adrenaline-induced rush of courage, you brushed it off and smashed it with your book. Unfortunately, the encounter unearthed the deeply repressed memory that was the reason you had arachnophobia in the first place.

You’d only been five years old at the time, but incredibly outgoing and brave for your age. Alone in your family room, you were playing with some dolls while your mom got you a snack. A large black dot on the floor caught your eye, and you walked up to it. You quickly identified the mystery spot as a spider. Some part of your brain told you to wait for your mother to come back, but it seemed dead. You’d figured it would do no harm to make sure, so you decided to squash it. You quickly grabbed your doll and brought its oversized head down on the arachnid. Then disaster struck.

You were rendered a screaming mess as baby spiders came rushing forth from the mother’s body. Your mom ran down in a panic and scooped you up, rushing away from the horrific scene. She quickly brushed any of the tiny arachnids off your small frame and hugged your sobbing body to her chest. After that incident, the house was fumigated, but you were left with a crippling case of arachnophobia. Not to mention you lost your interest in playing with dolls.

It was the strength of that memory, coupled with the fear of the moment, that left you a shaking wreck on the common room’s sofa. As salty tears trailed down your face, you heard a voice call your name, but it was distant as if you were underwater. The person called out to you a few more times, but you were still too shaken to say anything, let alone comprehend who’s voice it was.

They made their way to you in the dark and pressed your mess of a self to their body. A cold hand stroked your arm as their melodic voice whispered in your ear.

“It’s ok. I’m here now, darling,” they said. “Go back to sleep.”

You don’t know if it was from the crying or the sheer terror running through your veins, but somehow you managed to fall back into a dreamless slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, your mystery hero was gone and hadn’t left the slightest clue as to who they were. Sure, you technically could’ve asked around and figured it out, but you were too ashamed for that. Everyone had their own demons, and you were sure that comparatively yours would be nothing but childish fears. It wasn’t even that you necessarily thought anyone would be mean about it, but your mind always warped your thoughts until you believed your feelings were insignificant. You knew it was a bad way to be, but you couldn’t help it. Thus, you went about your day hoping your savior would reveal themself.

The rest of the day went by in a flash, and you were almost convinced that you’d dreamt the whole thing. No one had dropped any subtle hints that they were your shoulder to cry on, so you decided to make some passing remarks of your own. No one seemed to pick up on them, leaving you more confused than ever. At least you hadn’t seen any more spiders today, so that was good news. You even dared to hope you were done with the problem altogether.

Of course, nothing ever goes your way. You’d just finished your shower and there was another eight-legged menace waiting for you. This time, you weren’t able to stop the shriek from escaping your lips. Throwing on a robe, you walked backwards to where your shoes were, making sure the spider couldn’t run off. Unfortunately, a knock at the door drew your attention away, and when you looked back, the arachnid was nowhere to be found. Great, you thought, now there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep in this room tonight.

“(Y/n) are you alright,” the person at the door questioned, and you immediately recognized the voice as Loki’s. You stayed silent and debated the best course of action. Before you could say anything, he spoke again. “If you don’t respond I will have to come in to make sure you’re ok.”

You finally went over to the door and opened it a crack. “Hi Loki. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just, uh, slipped a little.”

“I see,” he said, a slight blush crawling up his cheeks when he noticed your attire. Realizing this, you felt your face mirror his.

“Right. Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. You’re quite certain you’re fine? You didn’t injure yourself at all, did you?”

You figured it would be best if you just dealt with the spider on your own. Better than telling the god standing before you, right? You shook your head no, but jumped when you saw a dark spot scurrying across your peripheral vision. Alas, when you turned your head, it was already gone. Maybe you were just paranoid.

“(Y/n) what is it,” Loki said, concern lacing his voice. You tried to assure him you were fine and close the door, but he pushed it open all the way and stepped in. He gave you a stern look and said, “Don’t hide from me. Tell me what the problem is.”

Tears brimmed your eyes and your lower lip started trembling. You were determined to not look like a fool in front of Loki, though, so you put on the bravest face you could muster and once again said you were fine. Then you thought you saw another spider and your weak facade slipped completely. You were now fully crying from the stress of it all.

Loki hesitated a moment before capturing you in a gentle embrace. In a fit of embarrassment, you tried to pull away, but he was having none of that. He only held you tighter as he whispered calming words in your ear. After who knows how long, your tears subsided and you hiccoughed a few times, adding to the shame you felt.

“Darling, you needn’t keep it a secret from me any longer,” Loki said once you fully calmed down. “I already know.”

Then something clicked in your mind. Darling. It was what the person last night had called you. The cold hands still holding your body suddenly felt all too familiar. You hadn’t even entertained the idea for a second that Loki had been the one to comfort you last night. Though, it would make sense if some magic was involved in you falling back asleep so easily.

“You-you,” you stuttered, only to be cut off by a gentle shush from Loki.

“Yes, dear, it was me last night. I’m sorry I ignored your hints, but I didn’t think you actually wanted to discuss it. And, quite frankly, I don’t always now how to respond to gratitude.”

One thing still wasn’t adding up for you. You asked, “But how do you know what’s bothering me.”

“You kept saying ‘spiders’ last night. You were so shaken, it didn’t seem appropriate to press for more information,” he said, finally releasing you, but only enough to see your face.

“Oh,” was all you managed to reply, having been so out of it that you had no memory of speaking at all.

He fully let go of you and walked with purpose to one of your walls. He pressed his hands to it and they started to emit a greenish glow.

“Whatcha doing?” you questioned, still sniffling a little.

“Sensing for spiders. What, did you forget I have magic?” he teased, bringing a smile back to your face.

“What?” you questioned when his face fell. “What is it?”

Sensing his hesitation to fill you in, you reassured him that you could handle it. Deep down, you were aware that you probably didn’t want to know whatever news he felt pertinent to hide from you. The suspense was killing you, though, so you pestered Loki until he gave in.

“Darling, I’m sorry to tell you this,” he said, leading you to sit on the bed, “but there’s a spider nest in your walls.”

Your eyes widened in fear. No wonder you’d been seeing so many. Your mind threw you back into that moment from your youth. All you could imagine was the tiny spiders crawling all over your body. The way they felt on your arms, near your mouth, and in your hair. Shivers racked your body as Loki kneeled before you. He took your hands in his and moved his head so he could look into your eyes, which were currently locked on the floor.

“Stay with me now. It’s going to be ok. I’m right here.”

You couldn’t manage to choke out a response, so instead you focused on synching your breathing with the pace of his thumbs rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. You felt lightheaded, but Loki’s eyes kept you grounded in reality. Finally, you regained control of your senses.

“Th-thank you,” you said, shaking out the remaining bits of paralysis.

“You don’t need to thank me for this, dear.” Before you could protest, he continued, “Now, I can take care of the nest with my seidr, but any spiders that are scurrying about will escape my wrath. We can talk to Stark about getting an exterminator in here.”

You nodded meekly, still not able to do much else. A familiar green glow came from Loki as he worked his magic. Once he was done, he turned and smiled at you. With the threat mainly neutralized, you suddenly became very self-conscious of your attire, remembering you were still only in a robe. To be honest, you’d pictured a scenario like this before; you barely clothed and alone with Loki. Of course, it was never in a situation quite like this. You thanked him profusely and shepherded him towards the door before your mind could wander any further. Unfortunately, one of the remaining arachnids decided to make an appearance, sending you scrambling into Loki’s arms.

“There’s no way you can spend the night in here. Will you come to my room?”

Even though he’d phrased it like a question, you knew he wouldn’t let you refuse the offer. Even so, whatever scrap of pride you still possessed begged you to brave it out. Mainly though, you just wanted a good night’s sleep.

“Ok. Yeah. I think I’d like that. But, uh, do you think I could maybe change first?”

He let go of you again and nodded his head, obviously having also forgotten you were only dressed in a robe. Once you were in some more suitable sleepwear, Loki took your hand and led you to his bedroom. You’d hoped that he would cuddle you again like he had the night prior and were disappointed when he laid as far away as possible from you on the large mattress.

“Hey, Loki,” you said, bashfully. “Remember last night? Well I’m still kinda scared and was wondering if-”

“Say no more, darling.”

Loki wrapped you in his arms and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. As his melodic voice coaxed you to sleep, you decided that, spiders or not, this would not be the last time you got to snuggle with the god of mischief. Lucky for you, Loki was thinking the exact same thing.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #peter parker #spiderman #reader insert #loki fluff #fluff #arachnaphobia tw #marvel #mcu

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

Your Pretty Little Angel (Axl Rose x Reader)

Pairing: fluffy modern!Axl x Reader

Words: 1,785

Request: @zeppelinwhore : “ Hey, love! How r u? I was wondering if i could request a fic with modern!axl? Where reader feels insecure about herself, like she saw the pic of Axl and Lana and then she feels like she is not as pretty as Lana. Or some shit like that lol. <3 “

A/N: Thanks for requesting, hun! The more of these modern!Axl imagines I write, the more I want to be his little sugar baby, ya know? Hope y’all enjoy this one! (Also this gif fucking killed me he’s SO cute)

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers @dustnbones

Your fingers drummed on the bathroom counter in front of you, drawing your focus to the sound of tapping against the granite rather than the gaping mirror in front of you. Anything but the reflection.

It wasn’t as though you were always racked with self-hatred or insecurity of your appearance. At the same time, you weren’t vain. You had worked hard to accept you as you were, it was all anyone could do, right? Everyone had their days though.

Especially when you were dating a globally celebrated rock star.

Axl Rose used to be a name that circulated the news channels and magazines much more frequently. Nowadays, any mention of Guns N’ Roses was a bit rarer, especially since Axl chose to lead a more private life. His name still had the power to generate headlines, though. You had definitely seen the latest—the images were practically burned into your mind now.

“Axl’s New Flame”

“So, Lana Del Rey and Axl Rose Are Hanging Out Together”

“Where’s Y/N? Axl Ditches Former Girl-Next-Door For Singing Siren”

You knew it was innocent. You knew rumor articles were cruel. You knew there was likely nothing even to it; Axl had gone out for a business dinner and they must have run into each other. After all, Lana Del Rey is a well-known Guns N’ Roses fan. The only pictures you had seen so far was her walking ahead of him leaving the same hotel restaurant. Axl simply wasn’t like that; you had been together for over a year now.

That was you trying to be rational and avoid a spiral of doubt. But of course, you ended up tumbling over the edge and soon got lost in overthinking.

You read the articles, every single detail you could find. The fact that she wrote a song all the way back in 2008 called “Axl Rose Husband.” Her coy smile in the pictures—so beautiful with her elegant face. Sure, Axl wasn’t like that, but did anyone really expect to get cheated on? Did anyone ever expect to be left? Those kinda things blind-sided even the most infatuated adoring lovers, and you began to brace yourself for the impact. Sure, you had just moved into his house, but he could always kick you out. You and Axl had never even exchanged “I love you” with each other, maybe he was seeing what else was out there. Maybe he had been charmed, maybe you just hadn’t seen other pictures yet. You read the articles speculating if Axl had left you in the dust. It was easy to find pictures comparing you to Lana. This was worse than online stalking because all the work was done for you—and there were people’s commentary and opinions, people you didn’t even know, who didn’t know you.

When you glanced up, almost accidentally, you realized you had started crying. You chuckled bitterly and added another negative trait to your list: too fucking sensitive. Who did you think you were, dating Axl Rose?

“Hey, sugar, I thought we were getting lunch? You’ve been up here for almost an hour.” You heard Axl call from your shared bedroom and heard his steps crossing the floor. You panicked; you didn’t want him to see you right now when the image of her was probably pinned in his memories. Her laugh, her smile, her bambi eyes looking at his. Was he comparing the two of you like everyone else? Wondering why he settled when he could’ve had her?

“Uh, hang on! Give me a minute,” you tried to stall; you needed a helluva lot longer than a minute.

“What’s wrong?” You heard Axl asked as he paused right outside the bathroom. It was almost a casual question, as though he weren’t really expecting anything serious to be wrong. “Your hair brush is out here if that’s what you’re looking for.” You chuckled slightly, smiling sadly at his nonchalant observation. “Are you okay?” He pressed when you didn’t answer, and that’s when you completely fell apart.

“Y-yeah! I just, uh...I poked my eye and...” you lied with the first thing that entered your head and grimaced at the weak attempt to stop your voice from shaking as hot, fresh tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m actually not feeling well; maybe we can go another time. Why don’t you go get something for yourself?” He didn’t answer, and you wondered if maybe he had left to do exactly that.

“Why in the world would I do that?” You jumped at the sound of his soft voice right behind you and glanced up to look at him in the mirror’s reflection, staring back at you in confusion, hairbrush in hand. Heavy concern shaded his face when he saw you. “Y/N, what’s wrong, darlin’?”

“It’s really nothing,” you lied and Axl immediately frowned angrily at you. His boots hit the floor with purpose as he marched over to where you sat on the vanity stool. He knelt down right next to your thigh in an effort to match your level.

“You know I hate it when you tell me that, Y/N. I hate wasting time with you upset and me not knowin’ the reason why. Do you trust me?” You hesitated at the question and saw a flicker of surprised hurt flash in Axl’s eyes.

“No, I do!” You said quickly, before you shook your head. “I do. Really, it’s just me overthinking...and just...imagining worse case scenarios and...” you shrugged.

Axl was silent for a moment before he stood. You stared at your lap, wondering if you had offended him, before you felt his fingers weave through your hair. He pulled your head closer to him, to where your cheek was resting against the denim covering his hip and his fingers massaging your scalp.

“You and that pretty little head of yours...” he muttered affectionately. “C’mon, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong. I get it, you know. Wasted plenty of years of my life just fucking overthinking things I didn’t need to.” You looked up at him and something in your expression suddenly made him pull you up by your elbows. He took your place on the stool before he brought you down on his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Now,” he prompted. “I’m listening.”

You stared down at your hands in your lap.

“I saw the pictures.” You murmured.

“Pictures of...?” Axl asked.

“You with Lana.” You peeked up at him and watched confusion furrow his eyebrows before understanding took its place. There was a silence.

“Ah.” He finally said with a nod.

“There were...a lot of articles telling me about the state of my relationship this morning.” You chuckled feebly. “You know, a much better start to my day than Folgers or the weather forecast.” Axl was shaking his head.

“I hate them.” Axl said. “I hate all of it. The manipulation, the way they think they know every detail. And it still happens, even now, twisting it all however they want.”

“For the record, I didn’t think anything of it.” You reassured him, though you couldn’t help the way your voice sounded small. You wondered if Axl could hear the insecurity behind your words too.

You could feel Axl pat your hip, his hand resting against you.

“Someone introduced us. She’s a big fan, it was nice conversation. I liked some of her ideas, concepts she was telling me about songwriting. But that was it. We walked out at the same time and that was somehow the big story.” You nodded a little. You had known that, but even with the confirmation, you were left wondering why you still felt empty.

“I guess...it’s just harder for me.” You said out loud, trying to work out your thoughts. “I’m...nobody. And you’re you, and I knew that—it wasn’t what drew me to you, that’s not why I got into this—but this world knows you too and how amazing you are, and then, sometimes things like last night happen. And I trust you with all my heart, Axl, but someone like Lana Del Rey; she’s gorgeous. She’s talented, she’s acclaimed. I’m sure she would have been willing. Why wouldn’t you...”

Axl’s grip tightened around your hips now, making you stop your words.

“First of all, I never want to hear you say something like that again. Y/N, you’re not nothing. You’re nothing short of incredible. This world hardly ever says anything about how ‘amazing’ they consider me. Mainly, it’s just about how I’ve lost it.” You frowned a little. There was a change in his tone, switching from insistence to almost cynicism. “How I don’t sound the same anymore. How I don’t look the same. I’m washed up, I’m an egotistical perfectionist—the list goes on. But you…you’re beautiful, baby. I look at you and I can see the way everyone else looks at you, and it makes me I wonder how in the hell I get to have you. You make me proud. You make me feel like the things I see written about me aren’t true. Because you never make me feel like that.” You twisted in the position you were sitting to face him better.

“I’m a fucking mess,” you laughed breathlessly, fighting another onslaught of tears. Axl smiled, leaning up to kiss the corner of your mouth, a fleeting kiss, uncaring if his lips even met yours because any inch of your skin was a prize to be kissed.

“You’re not a mess. Baby, you’re a whirlwind. Your thoughts, the way you look at the world, all the things you’ve brought into mine...”

“Axl...” you stopped him, but only had an absence for any words to explain the relief you were feeling, the calm that filled you. You could only shake your head and reach your hands out to cradle his face in in them. He immediately leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, his eyes still shut as you pulled back, stunned. He blinked his eyes open, smiling again at you. “I love you, my pretty little angel.”

“I love you too, Ax. I always wanna make you proud.” You replied back, smiling against his lips as you kissed him again.

“You do. And you know what else?” He asked as he pulled back. “I’m pretty fucking hungry.” You laughed with your head falling back before you stood from his lap.

“Just gimme a second. I’ll be ready soon.” Axl paused by the door.

“Wear that blue sundress of yours, baby. The one with the slit up the leg.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “I want them all to see you on my arm today.”

#axl rose #axl rose imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr #gnr imagine #classic rock imagine #modern!axl

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alittlewhump · 3 years

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Unbidden - Act 3, chapter 9

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Content warnings: minor burn, brief and non-specific self harm mention

Telash was a challenge. He had insisted on speaking with Morgan directly, despite Phaedra issuing him an invitation to the demonstration she was giving. He was also impatient. Eager, Morgan corrected himself. Eager to learn and improve. It just put him in a difficult situation, trying to teach something he knew so very little about to a student who wanted to have already mastered it.

"This isn't going anywhere."

"I told you, I didn't actually teach her anything. We just talked."

"She told me you taught her something new while I was trying to help your frigid friend relax a little. How did you ever get on her good side anyway? Does she just have a soft spot for freaks?" Telash was making a face like he'd smelled something unpleasant. Morgan ignored it.

"I really don't know. Aside from the element, do you have any idea how your magic works in comparison to Phaedra's?"

Telash looked displeased. "No. Well, sort of. I mean, obviously fire and lightning are different. She can be flashier because lightning takes a lot less to sustain. It doesn't need fuel to keep going. But I can do a lot more damage in a single shot."

"How do you fuel it?"

"What kind of question is that? Magic fire uses magic as fuel. Don't you know anything?"

"Not very much," Morgan replied. That was interesting, though. It was starting to sound like this magic was closer to his own. "How does that work? Does it still need air?"

"It can't be smothered, but it won't work underwater or anything stupid like that."

"Can you manipulate the fuel separately before lighting it, or is it all one action?"

"Haven't you noticed the gestures I use?"

Those were in the list of things to ask about. "What is their purpose?"

"They focus the energy before I activate it," Telash sneered. Again, closer to Morgan's experience. His were more of a mnemonic than anything, helping to visualize the flow of magic when it couldn't be seen, rather than actually shaping it. He hadn't relied on the gestures in some time, having been using it often enough to develop a feel for it instead.

"And you can't focus it in - oh, it's a problem of strength," Morgan realized aloud. Telash's sneer turned into more of a snarl. "You're too strong," Morgan clarified quickly. "The glass can't withstand the power you're trying to put into it. You need to use a more suitable container."

"I want to use glass."

"Then you'll need to find some very thick glass and be very delicate. Why does it have to be glass?"

Telash was frowning, apparently not pleased with the assessment he'd received. "Phaedra uses glass. Can't compare the results otherwise. How is everyone going to know I beat her at this?"

"You are capable of very different things," Morgan said. "Phaedra originally wanted to try to move the earth as I do. I don't think that goal is compatible with her magic."

Telash perked up. "What about mine?"

"Maybe. It sounds like it's closer to what I have."

"Well, show me how to do that," Telash said, grinning. "Bet I can do it, easy. It can't be that hard."

It seemed to be harder than Telash anticipated. He was persistent, throwing himself into the work and trying until his skin shone with sweat. His magic was... not faster, exactly, Morgan could raise a golem in just a few seconds by now. But it didn't seem to want to stay put. Several little furrows in the ground marked failed attempts where Telash had managed to channel his energy into the earth, but not to concentrate it there.

"You have to hold it," Morgan advised.

"I'm trying to hold it," Telash growled, flinging one hand out to point in Morgan's direction. He ducked under the weak jet of flame that spurted toward him. This was just how the other man communicated, evidently.

"It might be easier for you to... hold on, let me demonstrate something." Telash dropped his hands and sat down, breathing hard, but the glare he aimed at Morgan wasn't that deep. He waved one hand in a 'get on with it' sort of motion.

Morgan raised a simple sphere of earth, about the size of a person's head. "This is one way to make a shape. All at once. It's what I find easiest." Next to it, he set about constructing another sphere, this time using a different approach. A strip of earth rose up and curled around itself until the shape was achieved. Telash watched with interest. "This is another way," Morgan explained. "You get the same shape, but you put it together differently. It's harder for me, but it might be easier for you because of the way everything keeps moving."

"It makes more sense that way anyway," Telash said. "You build by starting with a foundation. Should have started with that instead of wasting my time."

Morgan refrained from commenting. People like Telash didn't tend to appreciate being reminded that their difficulties were their own doing. Instead of defending himself, he decided to offer some additional advice.

"When you've caught your breath, you might want to try again from down there. It's-"

"Down there," Telash snorted. "Because you're all the way up there now, aren't you, small fry? Enjoy that while you can."

"It's easier if you're touching the earth directly," Morgan continued. "You don't have to push the energy through the air first that way. It's one less obstacle."

"Air isn't much of an obstacle," Telash grumbled, but leaned forward anyway, placing his open palms on the ground in front of him.

"Try to imagine it like water. Pour it out into the earth, give it a moment to soak in, then move them together once they've joined."

Telash muttered something about water under his breath as he turned his attention to the earth in front of him. Despite his complaining, he seemed to be taking the advice well enough. The ground twitched a little between his hands. He breathed out slowly, and a small hill formed. With another few controlled breaths, a hollow sphere gained shape at the tip of the hill.

"That's very good," Morgan said. Personal attitude notwithstanding, it was impressive that he'd managed to make so much progress so quickly. It certainly hadn't come this easily to Morgan, though with consistent practice it had been getting considerably easier. "You can think of that shape as a container to hold some of your energy. It takes some power to maintain the shape, but it's proportional to the size. It takes more energy to move or change a shape once you've established it."

"Shut up for a minute. I'm figuring it out."

Morgan watched instead. Telash was intensely focused. The orb wobbled, then rolled unevenly down its little hill. Based on the way it moved, it looked like he'd added some extra weight in one spot to achieve the movement. Difficult to control with precision, but it was something. It rolled in a loose, jerky circle. Morgan stepped back out of its path. Telash made an annoyed grunt and the sphere slowly reversed its course to tap against the toe of Morgan's boot. He looked at the other mage for a cue and found him smirking.

"Go ahead, pick it up."

He couldn't imagine the purpose, but Morgan knelt to pick up the orb anyway. It was another opportunity to practice with the golem arm, at least. He manipulated it carefully, mindful that the sphere was likely fairly delicate. If he concentrated, he could feel the slight imbalance in its weight that had allowed it to move. The arm suddenly came alive with a warning, just as it had done with the bottled lightning. Morgan frowned. He'd already been handling the orb for several seconds. There hadn't been a delay previously. What was different?

His answer came in the form of the sphere bursting into flame. Morgan yelped in surprise, the shock again slowing his reaction. Telash had already started laughing before he managed to drop the orb. It wasn't painful, exactly, not like the burn he'd gotten on the wrist of his good hand that first evening, but the way the golem conveyed we are damaged was thoroughly disconcerting.

"Figured out how to hold it," Telash said, looking very satisfied with himself.

"Very impressive," Morgan said. He brought the damaged hand up to take a better look, running the pad of his other thumb along the scorched part. There was no bleeding or swelling, and luckily no sickening smell of burning flesh, but the texture of the construct was interrupted and the continuous warning that it/he/they were damaged was making it difficult to think about anything else.

Repair, Morgan suggested. It was generally much more straightforward to create a new golem than to fix an existing one. He'd tried with moderate success recently, though, managing to extend the utility of a construct that he'd combined with a cold-enchanted mace. It had been pleasant to stand near the gentle waves of cold that had rolled off of it.

This was something almost entirely different. He grimaced as the golem drew a substantial amount of power from him all at once, making his breath catch in his throat. The shadows grew deep, leaping up momentarily at the edges of his vision. But although it set his heart to pounding, the golem carried out the repair quickly and the sense of alarm faded away as he ran his thumb over the newly smoothed skin. A strange aching sensation lingered at the site of the damage. Clearly it wasn't an ideal solution, but it could have been much worse.

"Don't be such a baby about it," Telash said. "Here, take this if you can't even handle a little burn." He produced a vial of reddish liquid from somewhere within the folds of his robes. Morgan was reminded of the last time Telash had offered him a potion. That hadn't gone particularly well.

"I appreciate the offer," he said carefully, "but no thank you. I don't-"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I'm trying to be considerate here. You don't trust me?"

"You did just light my hand on fire," Morgan pointed out.

"And now I'm giving you a potion to fix it, so what's the problem? You think I'm trying to poison you or something?"

"Trust is not the issue. I just don't... respond well to potions." Upon consideration, he actually didn't trust Telash not to poison him. But that hadn't been the basis for his refusal, so it wasn't really a lie.

"I knew it," Telash said, withdrawing the proffered vial with a calculating look. "All those weird scars, like Khaleel used to have. Got yourself hooked on the good stuff, did you? Find it doesn't work the same as it used to?"

"Something like that." Morgan hadn't met anyone by that name, but he had no desire to elaborate on his own situation. Hopefully Telash would accept the vague answer and move on.

"Should have said something sooner. I do know how to play nice; I'm not a monster."

"Phaedra thought you would learn quickly, but I didn't expect this kind of speed. It takes most acolytes at least a full day to reach a complete form like that." To be fair, most acolytes weren't active mages before they started training in geomancy. But that detail wasn't conducive to changing the subject, so Morgan didn't mention it.

Telash perked up. "Phaedra said that?"

Morgan wanted to wrap up the impromptu lesson. There was little chance that Phaedra's demonstration was still taking place, but he did want to more thoroughly examine the repair his arm had achieved. He had intended to flatter Telash enough to satisfy his ego, but he'd seized on the other part of the statement instead. This could still be workable, though.

"Yes. Reluctantly," he added, hoping to play on the man's apparent propensity for conflict. An expression he was beginning to recognize as determination settled on Telash's features.

"I'm going to rub it in her face," he declared. "One night, and I've already come this far. She's going to be furious." He sounded delighted at the prospect. "How far away can you be, before you can't control it any more?"

"That's a personal limit. Your answer will differ from mine." It would also depend on a number of other factors, but explaining those would both delay his departure and likely leave him annoyed.

"Fine, I'll figure it out on my own. Basically what I've been doing all night anyway." He stifled a yawn. "I might as well keep going in private, if you aren't going to be any help."

"I have been as much help as I can."

"Sure," Telash said, getting to his feet. He stared at Morgan for a couple of seconds, apparently coming to some sort of decision. "Thanks," he said finally, turning away. "I'll try to remember about your delicate condition," he added over his shoulder. "No promises, though."

"Thank you," Morgan said, watching him go. He still wouldn't be able to let his guard down, but it was a larger concession than he'd expected. Once the other mage was well out of sight, Morgan took stock of himself. It seemed the repair had been fairly costly. His energy was recovering nicely, but there were physical symptoms indicating that he would need to eat something sooner rather than later. That was unfortunate.

A lot had happened in the space of a single day, much of it interpersonal. Although it might be easier to beg a helping from whatever the communal meal had been, Morgan was nearing the limits of his tolerance for interaction. He set out into the jungle instead. There had been a small grove of fruit-bearing trees not too far to the northeast, nutrient-dense and easy enough to harvest. Then he could probably fit in another hour or two concentrating on his arm before having to rest for another day's work.

He crossed paths briefly with Ormus on his way out of the protected zone. They nodded a greeting to one another as they passed. Ormus took a few more steps, then stopped and turned slowly, an expression that looked like disbelief coming over his face as he lifted his torch for more light. His eyes were fixed on the golem arm as he stepped back towards him. Morgan lifted the arm, carefully bending the elbow to position the forearm for closer inspection. Ormus stared for a long moment, but made no motion to touch or otherwise examine it more closely. Finally, he shook his head with a chuckle.

"And they call me crazy." He showed all his teeth as he laughed, turning back to continue his journey. A reasonably positive reaction overall, Morgan decided, especially with the misgivings he had communicated earlier. He allowed himself a brief smile before he extinguished the growing spark of pride. That was a deceptively dangerous emotion, one he couldn't allow to cloud his judgment. It wouldn't do to lose focus now. They were getting close to their goal, and he was going to need to concentrate on the task at hand. Destroying Mephisto, or otherwise preventing the Prime Evils from uniting, was going to be a challenge. One he would be better equipped to face, now, but still far from easy.

#my writing #story: unbidden #burn tw #self harm mention tw #he's so happy right now

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sailorspazz · 3 years

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10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

#10 dance #10dance

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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

Note

Chromeskull falling for the reader whose a Burlesque Dancer who wears a revealing Bride of Frankenstein costume that shows off childhood scars that have tattoos to look like stitches over them.

Chromeskull x Reader- Freakish Proposition

Authors Note: Writing again for my 6′7 tall husband....and also trying to get back into the writing game more.

Warning: None

Words: 2.1k

Jesse Cromeans was an extrovert by any means and the nature of his business got him into all type of places, especially exclusive clubs varying from classy snobby ones to stripper nightclubs to the more unusual ones, so no wonder that Halloween was to be spent into a night of fine alcohol and possibly some piggy hunting into these nightclubs.

Halloween meant that he could be more of Chromeskull and less Jesse Cromeans, wearing the chromed skull mask was giving him a boost of power and confidence, not like he really needed it, but for Jesse there was never enough, call him a greedy bastard, but that's how you get successful and respected into the world of the rich and nasty.

Humans were like animals in Jesse's opinion, even him, but here depends on what animal you are according to the food chain, and Jesse was definitely an apex predator and what does a predator do? Stalk piggies and tear them apart, limb by limb.

Nightclubs were the perfect environment for piggies, especially the exclusive ones because all piggies had to do to get a free ticket inside was flash some skin, push their chest out, and bat their eyelashes, looking for a fat walking wallet full of money to support their needs. They didn't care who it was as long as they were buying the piggy the last Gucci purse and gifted them a Porsche for their birthday.

It was the cruel reality of what relationships were like nowadays; there was no such thing as love, it was all business under the facade of sweet-talking and arms holding. Jesse didn't mind cruelty, it was one of his top characteristics, one that gained him his status in society; no wonder men wanted to be in his Oxford shoes and women to choke on his cock in an attempt to get a fancy dinner and a bottle of Moet.

He loved the dim-lit nightclubs, he was accustomed to the eerie vibe it gave, after all, the most interesting part of his life happened at night, and the fact that everyone's attention was pulled on the highlighted stage gave him the opportunity to observe more; more piggies to kill and from the audience sitting at the tables, close to the old geezers, he had plenty to choose from.

The show was about to start in 15 minutes, so he took his time, a waitress coming to deliver a bottle of Lagavulin, a whiskey glass, and a small bucket of ice. She poured Jesse the expensive liquor into the crystal glass, adding two cubs of ice, and he was more than amused when she tried to flash him a view of her cleavage; desperate piggy.

He could see from behind the mask how the other piggies observed; they were predators too in a way, but cheaper ones, their eyes always scanning what the men ordered because that showed how much money they had.

You don't just simply go to a man who orders one glass of cheap vodka over one who had a whole bottle of a 16-year-old fine whiskey.

Tattooed hands pulled the chromed mask off, and from the corner of his eyes, he could read the disgust on the piggies across the room as they took in his scarred face. He got used to such reactions, but flash a stack of money in their faces and the botoxed bimbos will be on their knees, worshipping his cock.

Jesse wondered how their lips would look cut off and showed up their loose cunts, while their eyes would be filled with tears, blood pouring out of each cut on their caked up skin, each cut deeper than the last.

He was pulled out of his sadistic daydream by a voice announcing that the show will start in 10 seconds and a chorus of applause followed as the red curtain drapes moved to each side, the slow jazz music started as did the girls on the stage started their dancing.

One girl, in particular, pulled on Jesse's attention, unlike the other females, her attire and make-up were different, declaring that she was the lead one, and his assumptions were approved as she started to sing, or better said, you started to sing, the slow beat of the music picking up speed as did the sensual moves.

Unlike the other dancers who wore white, your attire was as black as night, with lace details, a tight corset that made the bald man feel jealous. Most would say that your outfit was skimpy, but that's how the burlesque dancers were supposed to be dressed; sexy, sensual, and very appealing to the eye, and God how much you caught Mr. Cromeans brown eye.

Not only were you a vixen in black lace, but also very adorable, your smile and sparkling eyes showing that you were genuine having the time of your life. Jesse is a very observant man and couldn't ignore the tattoo sleeves down your arms; red and black roses are adorned by delicate barbed wire representing stitches.

If Jesse knew something very well, it was the ink on the skin and could identify scars under the intricate designs, and sure as hell, you were hiding quite a lot for such a delicate, little thing; well, everything was little compared to his intimidating height. It was very unusual to see scars nowadays on women; maybe you had a toxic and abusive relationship, maybe a destructive childhood?

He was getting curious and not even the depraved looks from the piggies around him got his attention, and that said something because he wasn't on to pass up the opportunity to slaughter some beef. He was more interested in the little ghoul on the stage; you finished your performance and bowed with a grin, waving around, the audience clapping and some wolf-whistling, the scarlet curtain falling down and hiding the stage.

Taking one sip of his whiskey, he saw you march up to the bar in a happy skip like you didn't have a care in the whole world. He snapped his fingers and motioned for the waitress to come to him which she happily did.

"What can I do for you, Sir?" she asked, batting her eyelashes, not at all impressing Jesse.

'Her. Tell her to come over here.' he typed on the phone then showed the waitress, who dropped her sugar-sweet attitude and rolled her eyes.

Note: Hang the waitress by her guts later.

You were ready to get a drink for yourself too after the performance, but someone tapped you on the shoulder. Turning around you saw it was Tina, who had a scowl on her face.

"That bald guy over there wants to talk with you." she told you, then just like that left. You furrowed your eyebrows and finally, your gaze landed on the said man, who motioned for you with a curled finger to come to him.

Curiosity took over you and you moved over to him.

"Yes? May I help you?" you asked and you noticed that he was typing on the phone, then an electronic voice startled you.

'Sit down. I could use some company.'

Well, that certainly took you by surprise; one that he wanted your company when he could get any waitress or glamorous trophy girl from this nightclub, and two...He was mute....That or either he was some weirdo who hated to talk.

You did as he wanted, taking a seat across from him, looking down at your hands, not knowing exactly what to discuss with him, not to mention he didn't even tell you his name, so you decided to start with that, introducing yourself.

'Jesse Cromeans, a pleasure to meet you, little ghoul.' you really needed to get used to that spooky electronic voice from his phone.

"Actually, I was supposed to be Frankensteins Bride, but it turned out to be more of a ghoul." you said with a nervous chuckle, which he returned with a smirk, one that seemed to suit him, despite the scars he had, he was...unique; not necessarily handsome or drop-dead beautiful, but he had that specific charisma that drew people in like an aphrodisiac.

'And where is your Frankenstein?' You had to stifle a laugh at his humorous question, so might as feel continue to entertain him.

"Probably in a coffin." you answered, making Jesse's smirk devilish so like you said something very appealing and familiar.

"Seriously, no. No undead husband or boyfriend." you said, licking your dry lips. You really needed a drink and like Jesse could read body language he called upon the waitress again, and you ordered your favorite.

'White Russian? I pictured you more of a Bloody Mary.'

Again, you smiled and laughed.

"Not a fan of tomato juice. If I had to choose a red drink, maybe cherry or strawberry." you responded.

Although your answers seemed all casual and not even flirty, to Jesse they triggered the killer side, because when you're a very sleek serial killer like Chromeskull, you got a dark sense of humor.

'Performing again next weekend?'

"No. This was just a one-time thing, I'm not exactly a showgirl and if I'm gonna be honest the only reason I was so relaxed was because of the make-up that made me look like a monster girl." you answered, taking a sip of your drink.

'If not a showgirl, then what?'

Jesse was simply curious; if she wasn't a performer here then with what was she filling her time, what did she worked as?

"I am studying medicine, but it's not exactly the path I've wanted." you said with a sigh, your cheerful mood dropping.

'Interesting. The medicine you say? And why did you choose it if you don't like it?'

"No, no! I like...well, liked it, but let's say it's not cheap to stay for so many years in college and I don't wanna burden my parents with the taxes that are way out of their limit."

A good-hearted piggy? That was something new.

'How did you managed to get so far if you say the taxes are way over your budget?'

He was pretty much dissecting her, he wanted to know more; and it wouldn't really surprise him if she said that she did unorthodox things for money, most girls in college do.

"Well, when I finished high-school I went to military school and went for two years in Afganistan, but you know...not the perfect environment for a small girl like me so I came back to try something else. I chose medicine, I was really curious about it, and with the money from the military years, I managed to pay my taxes until now.

Military? That would explain the scars, you don't need to be a detective to put the pieces together.

'Now?'

"Now? I work three jobs; at a library, as a waitress for a kids' restaurant, and recently here, but I think I'm gonna pass....Skimpy clothes aren't my cup of tea." you said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, putting one between red-painted lips, only to be snatched away by Jesse.

You looked at him with a dumbfounded look.

'Talk. Smoking later.'

You sighed, not in the mood to make a scene over a cigarette, plus he seemed like the type who will have his way no matter what.

"What else do you want to know?"

'Amuse me.'

You snorted at that.

"What do you want me to juggle with knives?" you asked in a sassy tone.

Oh, piggy....That would definitely be entertaining.

'I have a proposition for you. If it's really your dream to be a surgeon and dissect people, I can help you get through with taxes.'

"I'm not a prostitute, jerk." you quickly said, probably it was a bit rude, and in other circumstances, Jesse would have bend over the said person and decapitate said piggy, but he was more amused and gave you a silent laugh.

'As much as tempting that sounds, no. I can help you pay the taxes; I can offer you a decent job that won't involve parading for old geezers...but if you want to spice things up I won't deny it.'

Was he really hitting on you?

"I didn't picture you for a philantroph." you responded, earning an arrogant smirk from Jesse, who lightened up the cigarette that he snatched from you, blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction.

'I can be many things, sugar....What do you say?'

Debating a little and looking down at your remaining drink in hand, you chose.

"I'm listening."

'Sweet. I knew you would see things my way.'

#chromeskull #laid to rest 2009 #chromeskull: laid to rest 2012 #Jesse Cromeans #chromeskull x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #slasher x reader #horror movies

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riisinaakka-draws · 3 years

Text

part 2/6

2nd part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

This time the drawings are short comics that were abandoned for a reason or another, mostly because I lost the interest or felt like there was too much to redraw compared to the satisfaction of finishing something else more interesting. There’s also some talk about rigid mindset and how overthinking can lead to stagnation.

Contains early silverflint moments, specks of dust, rackham's glasses are found, jealous-Billy spying, desk-Flint gets caught, "squint-squint", a quiet moment and its bird dilemma etc.

And please do not steal and repost elsewhere. But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations!

Long-ish post under the cut!

“What are you thinking about?”

“Specks of dust.”

“Liar.”

The idea was to show how much they and their relationship had changed. This was around 2016 when the season 3 began and I was still re-learning to draw with a tablet. Another art from the same time period (and idea) is this art: The Dynamic Duet.

And for some reason I was really stuck up thinking that I’d have to first do the sketch, then the clean line art, then planes underneath, then shadows etc. and I have always struggled with that kind of approach! Mainly because I hate doing clean line work, lol. And I was a fool for trying to start with a white canvas! It’s so much harder to find values and plan things, or at least in my opinion..

“Rackham’s glasses are found”

To celebrate their new pirate alliance, they share the four lenses of Rackham’s sunglasses as they were also found at the time (because I wanted it to resurface and they could be made into jewellery you know...). This was right after the episode where Anne fights and hurts her hands (here wearing protecting mittens from Max even though she’s not trusted at the moment). Uh, this doesn’t spark joy interest me much and it’s quite stiff and would recuire a lot of redrawing faces, so - discarded!

I somewhat like the idea still (them having something to share, although it’s on Jack’s detriment). I tried to find a stylished comical easier doodlier? way to draw them and draw clean lines etc, but it just wasn’t for me. Also here too, the background is blank and too bright. Later I started to think things as scenes and draw everything at the same time instead of adding the bg later or trying to show everything (and everyone) at the same time.

Here’s also Billy in the same story:

He’s spying on them and since it’s so bright he’s wearing his diy “sunglasses” and being envious to the others. *cough* uhhh...Idk? Also people were shipping Ben Gunn (and cheese) with Billy, so that bled into this too... Charles’ spirit is riding the “big white bird” that was mentioned in Teach’ story and in this case it’s a pelican.

As you can see, I also wasn’t using the brushes that I use nowadays. A hard (or soft) round brushes with no change in opacity just aren’t for me. For example, in traditional art, I struggle with markers and copics, but really enjoy charcoals and watercolours. I prefer ragged edges, layering and thus blending things into each other (and leaving the viewer to fill in the gaps) instead of having stark or definite things. I also struggle with vector drawings, although I have decided to finally start learning to use them...somedayyyy.

Also, I wasn’t paying attention to anatomy, like, at all LMAO. I was just so happy to be able to put something on the canvas.

This is one of my first ink drawings, but I cannot find the original anymore. Again, I like the idea, but not how things look art-wise. And I was so adamant, that I have to get everything right in the traditional drawing and not fix anything later on on photoshop because then it would be cheating. And thus, I was never able to move on or finish this properly the way I liked it (idiot).

BUT! It was a good practise to just draw and test things on paper and gain confidense on drawing things in overall (as I was still getting back into art). To get over the fear of blank paper you know, and try to find my style whatever it would start to form into.

Oh, yeah, Desk Flint.

Desk Flint was a thing for a while (still is, lol). Another drawing from that time is this Slingshot Pirate (2016). And Desk Flint keeps repeating in many later works too. The point is mainly “Flint sitting behind his desk and people interrupt him and I don’t have to draw him fully”

Well, anyway... moving on.

Here’s a plan that has been stuck for years. It’s name is “Squint-squint.” Left is the sketch (with another sketch underneath because the expressions were clearer in the old one). On the right is the continued piece with colour scheme but I cropped the eyes panel and faces out (it was so ugly for some reason) but if I ever continue/finish this, it will be redrawn there in the middle.)

Left. “On that moment their eyes were literally open(ed).”

Right. “After squinting on the shore for days, they had actually forgotten how pretty the other idiot’s eyes were.”

I still like it, quite a lot, but my perfectionist ass only sees too much “boring” things to draw and get right, so it hasn’t been a priority for a long time and other works have kept me occupied and more interested in them.

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

“Quiet Moment.” 2018 (a wordless comic happening after the events of Charles Town)

I’m going to explain after these pictures, but see how big the difference is when you start to look at references and plan things together (the space, “camera” movement, background etc). I also started to colour with coarser brushes:

I drew this around early 2018. A lot of improvement! Still quite a lot of negative space (empty white backgrounds), but it fits this work. A few things tell where we are (the ship’s cabin and the balcony). Changing distances and how things are cropped/framed make things more moving and focused (and less to draw, lol). Colours and brush strokes are softer, more layered and so on.

But guess why it’s still a wip!

I couldn’t decide what bird is flying over there.

Yeap! At first it was an albatross (doesn’t go to Bahamas?). Then a seagull (but which seagull? there’s so many subspecies! Is the ship at sea or at the harbour? what birds are there on the open water/ close to the shore?? oh noo...) So, yeah, wayyyy too much over-thinking.

At some point I ended up with white-tailed-tropic-bird which was a plus! because it sounds like the bosun’s whistle, but at that point I was so tangled and frustrated and still had so much to finish with this that I left it be. Also Flint’s face looks different in every frame so I would’ve had to change some parts, lol. And then I forgot it for a couple of years! And then I had learned to draw a bit differently and again saw too much things to do, so it’s quite hard to take on this again, especially when there are so many other interesting wips waiting...

But I still really like the feeling of it! And the colour scheme. So I might just limit the things I’m allowed to fix and then post it as it own someday. I mean, it’s 90% finished, but the last reach just feels like miles.

And that’s what usually happens with my wips. They reach a certain point and it suddenly becomes really hard to finish or get back into.

But every time I learn things and then use the information in another work! :D

Final note for this post (altough this has been said hundreds of times): use references and look how things go and try to see the structure and form beneath things. And think where it is happening and how the light and surroundings affects the characters and/or spaces. And maybe think what you’re trying to convey with the art, what idea? what emotions? what purpose? or like, what are you trying to learn with the piece? and so on...

Thanks for checking this out, I hope you had fun <3

#black sails doodle #long post #but not as long as the future ones heh #tag for Block Spoils doodles #<- if you want to black list these

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