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0dirty-deals0 · 4 years

Note

Can I request hc of the boys' reaction to mc doing the walking in naked tik tok challenge? I'd love it if you add a little bit nsfw to it. Thanks in advance if you decide to write it!! Hope you're doing well!

Brothers react to MC doing the Walk in Naked Challenge:

Warnings: N/S/F/W-ISH CONTENT AHEAD! READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL

Lucifer:

You can hear the record in his hand drop to the floor with a soft metallic thud as he watches you remove your robe in front of him.

You can't help but let out a soft giggle when you see his usual pokerface turn to a flustered look for just a split second. That look is soon replaced with a much darker expression and the smirk he gives you soon make you feel weak in the knees.

"Well, Mc, I knew you were bold but this is a surprise."

You feel your words get stuck at the back of your throat and you feel a chill run down your spine when you hear him chuckle. He approaches you swiftly and covers your D.D.D. camera with his hand before giving you a featherlight teasing kiss that leaves you leaning in for something more.

"Starlight, while I don't mind an audience, I suggest you shut off your D.D.D. quick before I continue."

You do as your told and the moment your phone is placed down somewhere you'll soon forget, you're pulled close to him and pinned down onto his bed. You can't help but let out a small whimper when you feel his breathe so close to your ear.

"Where's that boldness of yours now? It's so adorable how you think you can catch me so offguard like that."

Mammon:

He's speechless the moment he sees you disrobe, you were almost certain you broke him because of how unusually quiet he became.

"Babe, you doing okay?"

You let out a small laugh when all he can do is give a quick and eager nod. You decide to help him out by walking over to him. He's quick to wraps his arms around your waist and rest his head on your bare stomach, letting out a blissful sigh at the feeling of your warm skin against his.

"Speechless?"

"Fuck, treasure. Give a demon a warning, will you? Almost gave me a heart attack."

"Can demons actually get heart attacks?"

"Fuck if I know."

You shudder when you feel him start to kiss lower and lower until he reaches your v-line. Before you're able to shut off your D.D.D. he's quick to stop you.

"No, keep on going."

"B-But, Mammon."

"No use getting flustered now, Mc. You started this, now I want you to record just how greedy I am for you."

Leviathan:

You had to stop yourself from doubling over from laughter the moment he let out a rather loud yelp. His game was left forgotten while he stared at you, still in disbelief that you were currently naked in front of him.

"I- Mc, you're naked," he says with a slight tremble in his voice, his face growing redder with each passing second.

"Mhmm."

"A-and you're recording."

You don't answer his last question and instead choose to walk over to him, kneeling down and resting your cheek on one of his thighs. You give him playful smile and you can hear his breath hitch the moment you do so.

"I was... so close to video calling my teammates," he says as he lets his shaky hands run through your hair.

"Oh?" You can feel him tremble as you let your free hand slide up his leg. "Well then, it's lucky that I caught you at the right time, or else you might have to share me."

"M-Mc," despite his stutter as he says your name, you know that tone in his voice. He hates sharing you with other people, just the thought of it is enough to leave him agitated.

"Say, remember when you said that you wished you could record me so you could remember that I was yours?"

You hand him your D.D.D. and rest your hands at the hem of his pants. Taking the hint, he starts to aim the camera towards you, his body shaking from the excitement he was currently feeling.

"Mc, are you serious-?"

"What do you want me to do, Levi?"

You let out a soft groan as the hand in your hair finally tightens and eggs you on to continue and stop teasing him.

"Please, please show me that you're all mine, Mc."

Satan:

The moment the towel is dropped, there is nothing but a pindrop silence between you two for a while, save for the god awful drama you were watching with him playing in the background.

"... I knew the drama was boring but fuck, Mc."

"It was really that terrible sex scene that egged me on to do this."

He lets out a soft laugh and scoots over to sit on the edge of your bed, he doesn't say anything but his eyes on the otherhand do. You walk over to him and sit yourself on one of his thighs, your free hand wrapping itself around his neck while his own hands rest themselves on your thighs.

"Such a needy little pet you are."

"Not like you'd have it any other way."

A loud gunshot makes you both jump, your moment together momentarily ruined by the actress crying on screen. While your eyes are glued to the screen, Satan's eyes begin to wander to the recording D.D.D. still in your hand. He gets a brilliant idea all of the sudden.

You're flipped onto the bed with ease and your D.D.D. is now in the hands of Satan himself. Feeling shy all of the sudden you try to cover your face but Satan reaches out to stop you from doing so.

"Say, Mc. Do you think I could make you scream loud enough to drown out the tv's sound?" Pinning your hands above your head, he starts to leave teasingly light kisses on your neck that leave you squirming and whimpering for some rougher contact.

"Why don't we star in our own little drama, what do you say, kitten?"

Asmodeus:

He lets out an excited squeal the moment your robes drop to the floor, he's off his bed and striding over to you, hands quickly finding themselves roaming your body.

"Oh! It must be my birthday today if you're being so needy for once," he nuzzles his face into your neck and lets out a content sigh at the warm feeling of your skin. "I'm a bit sad I couldn't pull this stunt on you first, though. Oh, Mc, you naughty, naughty, human."

Your giggles soon turn to breathy moans and whines as his kisses soon turn to hickies and bites. He starts to guide you onto the bed and doesn't let up on the marking, his hands start to make their way onto your chest and you can feel yourself losing your grip on your D.D.D.

"Oh, I didn't even know you were recording!" He helps guide your hands so your shakily aiming the camera towards him.

"Asmo, I-I don't think I can,"

"Shush, Mc, you started it, and I've always dreamed of recording you and me getting busy." His kisses start to go lower and lower until his close to where you want him the most.

"You always drive me crazy, Mc. It's no fair that a human like you can do this to me."

Beelzebub:

Poor guy was so shocked when your towel fell that he dropped the cake he was eating onto your bed, his face turning bright red at the suddeness of it all. You gasped at the mess but didn't have much time to react as you were quickly pulled into a tight hug. You can feel his heart beat fast against your bare skin.

"Beel-"

"It's unfair that you get to look so cute while pulling a trick like that."

You can feel him leaving soft kisses on the top of your head and you start to melt at the soft affection he's giving you.

"You look so sweet too..."

You don't have much time to react as he sweeps you off your feet and lays you onto the bed, kissing you and letting his hands roam all over you. You're rendered out of breathe rather quickly and you're only brought back to reality after feeling something cold come into contact with your stomach.

"What-?"

"It's the cake."

"That fell on my bed?"

He doesn't answer and instead chooses to lick off the cream now coating you, causing you to squeal and squirm at the sensation.

Your D.D.D. is left laying beside you, thankfully shutting itself off after a while, but that's the last thing on your mind as you feel his lips press against yours once more, the sweet taste of the cake now more apparent than before.

"You're so tasty, Mc. It's okay for me to taste a bit more, right?"

Belphegor:

You needed a more physical approach with him since he was usually asleep, and you needed to be careful with your approach as well. You started by kneeling by the edge of your bed, playing with his hair and letting it tickle his face. When he started to turn over onto his back, a sign he gave you when he wanted you to lay on top of him, you instead began to straddle him, resting your ass against his crotch.

He lets out a gasp at the sudden pressure and sleepily begins to wake up, ready to whine and tell you that you're disturbing his nap. His words die quickly in his throat when he sees you letting your robes fall off your shoulders, letting your top half be exposed. This wasn't really the challenge but you still got a kick out of his sleepy yet flustered expression anyway.

"Aren't you just a sly fox...?"

"Subtle teasing doesn't always work on you."

He chuckles and mutters out a, 'Well, that is true' before pulling you down onto the bed to spoon you. He grabs your D.D.D. out of your hand, ignoring your protests, and places it on your nightstand before wrapping both his arms around your waist.

"This feels so nice..."

You let yourself get comfortable in his hold, assuming that the two of you won't go any further than this because of how he seems to relax behind you. You were dead wrong if you thought he wasn't going to get back at you for not only disrupting his sleep but also teasing him like that.

You can feel him start to grind against you and the hands around your waist soon find themselves on your chest, pinching and massaging them. He lets out a low chuckle when you let out a sudden gasp at his administrations.

"Since you had your fun teasing and recording me, I'm sure you don't mind me getting a bit of payback, right Mc?"

Others: Holy fucking shit this took me ages to write because I had no idea how to approach it. I'm so sorry if this is so off topic to the original request! Still, despite being shit at writing smut I had loads of fun with this! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #omnsfw #n/s/f/w

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razzle-zazzle · 3 years

Text

1371 Words; Six Ninjas, One Hero

Blame the discord for this one

“So this is what the fearsome Ninja looks like,” Tim said, harshly gripping Cole’s jaw. “It’s less than I expected.”

Cole snarled. He flexed against the handcuffs securing him to the wall. Were it not for the vengestone, Cole wouldn’t be in this mess.

“I noticed you were using geokinesis today.” Tim drawled, pacing back and forth in front of Cole. “I wonder what it would take to see your other powers as well.”

Cole said nothing. He couldn’t give this guy anything. He was not going to be the one responsible for revealing the secret.

“Of course, I don’t expect you to actually tell me.” Tim mused, “You might not even know how your own powers work.” He scoffed. “They’re certainly not persistent.”

Cole shifted awkwardly. He had to get out of this situation on his own, before Tim realized that geokinesis was pretty much all Cole could do.

Before the others had to break the facade to bail him out.

No, Cole would get out of here. Tim would have to take off the vengestone to see Cole’s powers in action, and Cole could knock him out and get away then. The fact that Tim had seen his face was a problem, but it could be dealt with later.

“Well!” Tim smiled, hands clasping together, “There’s no time like the present!” He stalked over to Cole, his trench coat swaying ominously. “Let’s get you to the testing chamber, then, and see if we can’t draw out some of your other abilities.” He smiled, face splitting in a way that promised only pain.

But there was also an opportunity, here. Tim would have to unhook the handcuffs, and to do that, he’d have to undo at least one cuff. It may not grant Cole his powers, but it would give him dexterity.

Cole waited with baited breath as Tim moved closer, and closer, and closer—

Something pricked Cole’s arm. Tim stepped back.

“Don’t worry, little Ninja,” Tim grinned, “I intend to make things as painless as possible.”

Cole was dizzy. Why was he dizzy?

And then it hit him. Oh. Tim wasn’t taking any chances.

As Cole slipped away from consciousness, he wondered how he was going to get out of this situation.

+=+=+=+=+

Tim stood in the observation deck, waiting for his guest in the test chamber to wake up. It had been a simple matter of moving Cole to the chamber—well, simple when Tim ignored how heavy Cole was. But that was to be expected of a guy with a strongman build.

Finding out Cole’s name had been easier—all Tim had needed to do was run his face through several databases until he found a match. Digging into the background of one Cole Brookestone-Loure had yielded interesting results. The son of a famous performer who was himself unknown to the public. A good cover, for the revered Ninja of Ninjago.

But something about Cole wasn’t adding up. It was right there, on the tip of Tim’s tongue, but he just couldn’t place what it was, exactly, that was bothering him.

Well, Tim mused to himself as his guest began to awaken, I have all the time I need to figure out this puzzle.

And oh, did Tim love puzzles.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole awoke with a start, panic rising in his chest at the unfamiliar surroundings.

It was a simple room, with no discernible doors or windows. Slats in the ceiling provided ventilation.

Cole stood up, trying to shake the pins and needles from his limbs.

An unseen speaker crackled. “I see you’re awake.” Tim drawled, from somewhere outside the room.

Cole glanced at the walls again, searching for any hidden cameras.

There, in the corner.

Cole glared at the camera, crossing his arms.

“I notice there’s no loss of attitude.” Tim commented wryly. “Regardless, let’s not waste any more time, alright? I’ve got a few tests to go through and only so much time to do them today.”

Cole continued to glare.

“Now,” Tim began, “You’ll notice there’s a metal band around your neck. If you’re capable of putting two and two together, which I’m sure you are, you’ll realize it’s extra… motivation.”

Cole’s hand traced along the edges of the collar.

Tim continued to ramble, noting how a shock collar would be ineffective on a Master of Lightning, and how it was designed to deliver pain in a different way. Once Tim slipped into discussion of the design, Cole tuned him out, moving over to the walls, tracing his fingers along them to search for any sign of a door.

His earth sense extended an inch or two before cutting out. Probably vengestone. It was the same for each of the walls as well as the floor; Tim truly wasn’t taking any chances.

“...but of course, that’s enough rambling.” Tim said, as Cole tuned back in. “Now then, let’s get on with Test #1: Geokinesis.”

A portion of the ceiling opened up, depositing a small pile of sand before closing.

“I wonder,” Tim mused, “Can you only manipulate specific kinds of earth?”

Those seemed to be the only instructions Cole was getting. It was obvious what Tim wanted.

But then an idea occurred to Cole. Why should he comply? Why not pretend that his powers had left him entirely? He moved to sit down, ready to wait it out—

Something pricked at his neck, which was the only warning Cole received before his head seemed to split open, pulsing pain pounding away like a jackhammer.

“The sand, Cole.” Tim warned, as the pain receded.

Cole stared at the pile of sand, hands shaking. He wasn’t sure he was willing to risk another dose of whatever that was.

With great uncertainty, Cole called upon the powers passed onto him from his mother, letting the sand slip into focus. A quick move of his hand, and the pile reared up like a serpent, coiling and twisting through the air as Cole thoroughly demonstrated his mastery of the earth.

“Direct the sand into the funnel, please.” Tim directed, as the wall opened up to reveal another chute. “I’d hate to accidentally bury you alive.”

Cole did as directed, focusing on the thought of freedom the entire time. He would get out of here, and he would keep the facade intact.

Cole just wasn’t entirely sure as to how.

Another chute opened up, dropping loamy soil. Cole took control of it quickly, shaping it into a sphere before depositing it in the refuse chute.

Another chute. Gravel. Easy.

Quartz. Granite. Basalt. Marble. Obsidian. Andesite. Diorite. Clay. Silt. Pebbles. Rhodochrosite. Kyanite. Some fossilized shells. All types of earth, deposited one by one, for Cole to manipulate.

Tim was probably learning a lot about Cole’s powers. More than Cole was comfortable with Tim knowing. But it was better that Tim knew about Cole’s geokinesis than that there was more than one ninja.

Eventually, it stopped. The speaker once again crackled to life.

“My my, how the time has gotten away from me. I had more tests planned, but I suppose they shall have to wait for tomorrow.” Cole wasn’t sure how Tim managed to convey a shrug over speakers, but he did, “Now, if you’ll just relax, you will be rendered unconscious promptly and returned to your quarters.”

Indeed, Cole was already beginning to feel woozy.

But that was okay. Presumably, his cell wouldn’t be nearly as scrutinized as this room, allowing Cole opportunity to escape.

And he had to escape, sooner or later. Hopefully sooner.

And with that thought, Cole blacked out.

+=+=+=+=+

Tim was practically vibrating with excitement.

So many villains had tried to take down the unpredictable Ninja. So many had tried and failed. But now he, Tim, was in possession of the greatest puzzle in Ninjago! He was the one to have finally figured out the Ninja’s weakness, he was the one to have finally captured the Ninja who had so easily slipped out of others’ grasps!

Furthermore, the Ninja’s powers were simply fascinating. How did they work? What triggered them? Why could he only draw on one set at a time?

It was such a complex puzzle, and Tim intended to figure it out.

And Tim was very good at solving puzzles.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #six ninjas one hero #zaz writes #cole ninjago #tim smith #blame the discord gang for this one lads #they're the ones who came up with this au #i was the one who made it colangst but like #they started it #there's not enough cole whump in this sad sad world #i'm not going to explain this au but if you figure it out then kudos to you :D

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missbugaboo · 4 years

Text

That Other Guy (1)

"Why does it matter so much to you? What's so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can't stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic's name makes him such a hateful rival?" Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug's dream guy is, but somehow, he's not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

Next chapter

Chapter 1: An Equal Share of Luck

“Wait so are you telling me that the guy you’ve been talking about, the one that has been my oh-so-lucky rival for the past two and a half years, the one that has so successfully blocked each and every one of my tries to get close to you…

That this guy is Adrien – FREAKING – Agreste?!”

Ladybug froze in her spot. She was taken aback by the remark, certainly, but the aggression ringing in her partner's voice was even more startling. She turned around slowly, expecting to see a predictably petulant expression on his face – the irritated glare of a child who was once again refused the toy he believed he had a full right to. She knew there was more to it, of course; knew that behind that mask of sulkiness was the real pain of unrequited affection, even if it was so heavily coated by the petty jealousy that was also undoubtedly there.

It turned out that even that knowledge had not been enough. It had failed to prepare her for the new, solemn look of true hurt and ire she saw now. It was suddenly clear that he was no longer jealous, not only so, anyway – and she almost winced when she realised that right now, Cat Noir was judging her most severely, and the outcome clearly wasn’t in her favour.

The glare he was giving her was of disappointment before anything else; she supposed it would have been piteous, too, had he not been so very angry with her.

And by the look of it, he was furious.

“I can’t believe it,” she heard him mutter as he rubbed a gloved hand against his face. “Of all people for you to pick, it had to be him.”

“And why does it matter so much to you, Chat?” Ladybug responded eventually, feeling the anger rise in her own chest but still trying to keep her cool, for both of their sakes. “What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival? You knew there was someone else, I told you that as soon as I realised how serious you were about your feelings... Because believe it or not, the last thing I’ve ever wanted is to hurt you. And yet here you are, making a scene just because you don’t like the guys actual name!”

“There is much more to dislike about him than his name, trust me,” Chat drawled in response; a new derisive note resounded in his voice. ��What I really hate about this entire situation though is the fact that you would reject me, again and again, for someone you don’t even know. Call me crazy, call me weak, but learning about that hurts more than any cataclysm I could possibly put on myself.”

Their eyes met again, Chat’s cold gaze once again rendering her speechless. She didn’t know how to answer him; she doubted there was anything she could say that would not rile him up even further – something she was not at all willing to witness – but at the same time, she didn’t want to argue with him. Or to add to the pain he was undeniably feeling.

Still, there was little she could do if he insisted on discussing the subject in such an aggressive manner, which, again, would not change as long as she did nothing.

“And what if I do know him?” she asked weakly at last, praying inwardly that the suggestion would not add insult to injury. She felt the first tears gather in the back of her eyes, but she ignored them, determined to keep her emotions at bay until this horrible conversation was fully over.

To be fair, she wasn’t even sure when it all began in the first place. They’d been patrolling the city as they always did on Wednesdays, aware that, for some reason, this was when the late night akuma possessions usually happened. They’d been jumping from one building to the other; her, talking about her own mid-week exhaustion, while he’d tried to cheer her up with his terrible puns and absolutely ridiculous attempts at flirting.

All in all, a typical behaviour on a most typical patrol.

It was then that they’d come across another huge poster of Gabriel’s new teen-oriented collection, featuring none other than the main designer’s young son – which really was just another unsurprising occurrence. The city of Paris was once again covered with Adrien’s photographs, much as it had been nearly two years prior. Though, fortunately for all, the new advertisement didn’t cause half as much excitement as the aforementioned cologne ad, something for which Ladybug was almost as grateful as the modelling teenager himself.

Ladybug had her reasons to be proud, having resisted the temptation to ogle the posters at any given opportunity, reducing her obsession to several replays of the TV version of the ad alongside a few discreet glances at billboards that adorned the streets.

Of course, she just had to give one of those glances now; and of course, Cat Noir noticed it at once.

It didn’t seem particularly dangerous at first. Sure, she knew he would tease her, but then again, he always did whenever another boy was concerned. It didn’t matter who the said boy was or how much of a threat he really was – he taunted her about Luka in the same way he joked about Nino and Max, unaware that she knew all three of them and that not all of the gentlemen were completely indifferent towards her.

There was no reason why his remarks about Adrien should lead to anything more serious than that.

The heroine was proven wrong quickly enough, however. As one word led to another, his comments changed from humorous to earnest, and soon he was asking her questions she had no means of answering. She had no idea why he was so adamant this time, why her thoughts on Adrien suddenly seemed to mean so much more than her opinions about the boys that had been the topic of their talks in the past.

All she knew was that, somehow, he had managed to put two and two together and figure out the secret she’d been so determined to keep.

And as stated before, the discovery clearly made him go nuts.

"Chat? What if I actually know him?" she repeated hesitantly when she'd realised he was not willing to grace her with his answer without another prompt on her part. She saw him bite his lip nervously, before he bowed his head and shook it and let out a strange hollow laugh that was so very unlike him.

"Forgive me for being so blunt, but the last time I checked, Adrien Agreste did not have too many friends to brag about," he responded eventually. "A few, perhaps; but certainly not enough of them not miss you out in that crowd... And since I know he's got more than a soft spot for you, he sure as hell would have reached out for you and made that dream relationship of yours a reality before you could blink your pretty lashes at him twice. Even being the fool he is, he sure wouldn't have missed a chance like that."

"Stop calling him that," Ladybug warned him, only to realise that the unexpected cracking in her voice made it sound more like a plea than anything else. "Even if you have some scraps of information like that, which I'm certain is just some groundless gossip, you clearly don't know him. And you don't know me either if you think I'd lie to you about any of this. Why would I lie?"

"To save face, perhaps? So that you don't have to admit that your grand true love is really nothing but a shallow celebrity crush, aimed at a boy you could not have met save for the few times when he was stupid enough to get himself caught by some akuma or other. But it's too late for that; too late to fool me, to stop me from realising that all my efforts mean nothing compared to a pretty face and a wealthy background. Maybe it's better that I finally know it now."

"You don't know anything," she objected heatedly, no longer caring about the mist that covered her eyes and indifferent to how she must look to him right now. "You don't know me. You think Adrien would have to recognise me in my civilian form but that's just it: I'm not Ladybug in my real life. I've been telling you that for as long as I can remember, and it was only your stubbornness that kept you from understanding it. I'm nothing like the girl you know; I'm clumsy and insecure, so much that I can't even muster up the courage to talk to the guy I like without stumbling over my words, much less speak of any of my feelings to him."

She swallowed painfully as the first tear fell down her cheek. She was still gazing at him, willing him to look back at her once more, so he could at least see how genuine her present confession was. He didn't; and as painful as it was, she realised that there was nothing she could do but go on.

"You're so sure that I can't be close to him, and maybe you're right. Maybe I’m really not, because honestly, why would someone like him even look at someone like me? I'm sure that you could meet me in real life and you wouldn’t pay any more mind than you would to any other passer-by on the street. But that's the thing about Adrien: he does notice people, as insignificant as they may seem. He's kind and selfless, ignoring his fame and his wealth for the sake of his friends, treating his classmates as equals when he easily could have been yet another Chloe. He could have been conceited and self-absorbed, using his father's position to wiggle out of responsibilities in the same way she does.

"I know it still may not be enough to convince you or even if it is, it won’t change the way you're feeling or your opinion of me, but that's the truth. That's the boy I fell in love with over two years ago: not the model the world knows but the honest, considerate classmate I've been blessed to meet myself. The boy who'd go to any lengths to become my friend, even when I could hardly form a sentence while talking to him, or when I confused him with my outbursts or made him deal with my crazy, ever-changing moods... And yes, he does see me as his friend and nothing more; but you more than anyone should know that this is hardly a reason to stop caring for the person you love."

It was her turn to look away then, as she reached for her yo-yo and readied herself to depart. She didn’t see the way her companion's head had jerked up at the sudden silence, his eyes wide with astonishment as he searched her face and figure, as if expecting her to pick up her speech where she'd left it.

She did no such thing however, confident in her belief that all that could matter had already been said. With the magic device in her hand, she looked as if she was going to leave at any given second and yet, it was clear that something still prevented her from going.

Whether it was the feeling of Chat's stare boring into her back or the silent, only half-realised plea that he was sending in her direction, she had no way of telling.

Whatever it was, it made her turn around and face him at last, their eyes meeting for the very last time that night.

With a heavy sigh and a far heavier heart, she said, "We've been taught that our deal with fortune is that of the opposite kinds – I obtain or the luck while you get none. The truth is, when it comes to love, I'm no more lucky than you are, Cat. The only difference is that you were always brave enough to speak of it out loud."

And with that she was gone, fading into the night like a phantom in the mist, leaving him alone on a rooftop that suddenly seemed terribly cold.

#my writing #fanfiction #mlb #ladynoir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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detective-keen · 4 years

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ZzzZzz Flop - Agatha & Lucas

Where : Some city in the sky / Agatha’ s mind When : Last night Who : @lucastheunlucky & yours truly @detective-keen

What: Agatha & Lucas share a few thoughts in Agatha’s mind.

Agatha sat on a bench, a book in her lap. She watched as a zeppelin passed, high above her, her hand toying with a pleat in her skirt. The hem grazed the paved floor, dancing above it as she stood up. A stray strand of her hair fell on her shoulder, and she placed it back in her Gibson updo, as she made her way toward the city hall. She was not sure why she was drawn toward it, but this was where her steps where taking her. She passed by a statue of a man with one arm, and if she could feel her guts twist as she turned her back on it, she assumed that this only meant one thing : she was hungry.

The woman stopped at the bakery to buy a raisin viennoiserie, but the feeling in her guts did not go. From the corner of her eye, she had caught it, once again, this shadow of a person. This was not the first time she saw it. She couldn’t place where she had seen it before, but she knew this was not the first time she was seeing it, and that was a fact. “You,” she exclaimed, ignoring bypassers turning to look at her, clearly disapproving. Unfortunately, the shadow was gone, once again. She searched around her, and found herself tumbling forward. When she stood up, the town in the sky had vanished, and she was getting into a car, with the man from the statue. The one armed man. This does not make anysense, she rubbed at her eyes and sighed with relief as she found herself, once again, in what she thought was her reality. A lively town in the sky, with zeppelins and joyful people passing by.

Lucas kept feeling like these passing people should have faces. They blurred in and out of focus, taking on people he saw once or twice when he had been in the precinct when he was arrested by Officer Roland. Everything in him wanted to push that memory from his mind in well practiced denial and survival. Someone snickered from his left shoulder and he looked over and two people dressed in pleated skirts with police badges hanging loosely on their neck. They were talking behind their covered mouths, eyes darting towards him briefly before they turned slightly to keep talking to themselves. He felt a hint of despair, knowing they were bad talking him, no, someone else. But that emotion burned away as did the environment when a statue in the distance rose up. His heart pounded, but someone on the streets handed him a cold drink and it was warm this high in the sky. He sipped it, noticing it was a milkshake that he hadn’t been able to enjoy with Nic before his attack. “Do you want one?” He asked the person next to him, now having two in his hands. “Drink it quick though. Something bad might happen.”

Drink it quick though. Something bad might happen. The voice sounded familiar, and Agatha immediately found herself tearing up. She had not heard this voice in years, and she thought that she had forgotten the sound it, but no, the moment she heard it, she knew who it belonged to, she knew she had to find him, and to find him, her mind told her that she had to run across these people. That someone in the crowd, somewhere, was her father. Perhaps she dreamt of him because for months, she had hoped that he had gone missing, disappeared, and that the few bits of him they found were proof that he managed to run away, but that Agatha grew out of that quick, coming to term with the terrible mistake he had done, the deaths he had caused. Still, she ran, bumping into people, hoping to catch the messy salt and pepper head of hair her father used to sport. Her chase came to an abrupt halt as she ran headfirst into a man, spilling milkshake on her formerly spotless, wrinkle free blouse, and gasped in horror. “Can’t you be more careful?!” The nerve. She knew damn well she was responsible, but she was pissed off. Not paying too much attention to poor Lucas, she looked around, searching again. Come on, where are you dad? Show yourself, please, she begged, her hand pinching at her nostrils as she felt tears running down her cheeks.

Lucas watched the milkshake explode in his hands, and he glanced almost eerily calm over as a crossbow bolt exploded the other one and sent it flying into the clouds. “Told you something bad would happen,” as the chill of the ice cream stung his hands, his eyes were a bright, molten ring of gold. Wolfish features gave his bone structure higher peaks, and sharper lines down his jaw. The scent of tears drew his gaze towards Nic who lost his milkshake. Would he cry over it? Luke felt sad about losing the milkshake again too, but it was strange seeing the man tear up. He looked towards the truck that pulled up, seeing men pile out of it, and glanced over to see a woman instead. “Hey, this place is dangerous, you better duck behind something,” Lucas warned, cracking his knuckles ready to fight, “I’m not letting these people get hurt.”

“What?” Agatha looked over her shoulder, looking both offended and disbelieving. “Bitch, I’m no damsel in distress.” The truck that had just arrived looked completely out of place, in the middle of all this late 19th century streets. Her hand instinctively went to her right side, where she usually had her gun holstered, but all she could feel under her finger was the wet fabric and her ribcage. “Shit.” Running out of the street into a home that wasn’t hers, she went straight to where her dream took her, and when she walked out back in the street, next to Mr. Saviour, it was with a loaded blunderbuss in her hands. “Who the fuck are these people,” she asked, taking cover behind a wall.

The city in the sky shuttered, the clouds disjointed into a starry sky then back again like a pixelated rendering. Lucas’ brow twitched, and he frowned as an overwhelming feeling surfaced that he did not want to go through this again. “No, wait-- this isn’t-- right,” he watched her come back with a weapon and with her motions a dense cloud blew in easily, shrouding the place for a second as the truck was suddenly dented and half destroyed when he looked at it. Lucas stood in the middle exposed when she asked. “Hired muscle,” he muttered, “fuck.” He subconsciously tried with all his might to change this, but he could only see a crowd of people happily milling about like there wasn’t any danger. No one else here was reacting to what they were seeing and it was disjointing. “I hate this--” A ring of darkness came out in the far distance and started moving and consuming the happily and peaceful place in a slow threatening crawl. His fists closed tightly. “I have to stop this, all of it. Where are we?”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Agatha spat, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. “Who the fuck hired these guys,” standing up, she aimed and shot one of said guys in the leg. It was hard to get information out of dead men after all. Squatting down, she loaded the blunderbuss again, a frown on her face as she watched people around them walk by as if everything was fine. What the fuck, she thought, standing up again to shoot another of these guys. That would be when she saw this dark, weirdly circular cloud coming their way. “Looks like we have a storm coming right our way,” a frown on her face, she took a step back, carefully. “And how exactly are you going to stop … this?” She motioned to what she referred to as clouds. “Where are we? Are you…” She stopped mid-sentence. Where were they? She had no idea. And yet, she knew this place. She felt as if she had spent hours in this city in the sky. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Ivor Gotch,” Lucas couldn’t stopped himself from finishing the answer, stress was making his hands shake and the beast was clawing under his skin, and he actually slapped his hand over his mouth as if that would have stopped it from being said. She had taken some good shots, but the firearm’s explosive sound made him sick, and he instinctively flinched. Lucas didn’t know either where they were, it didn’t feel like a place he’s ever been. Though it was beautiful, and it felt if he wanted too, he could make up his mind and go enjoy a nice lunch should he wish it. The looming statue in the background held the person he feared the most. “I don’t know how to stop it, I just know I have too before it’s too late.” He looked at her, the horrid wound on his arm from his wrist to his elbow open and bleeding, a line from a hole near the side of his temple drew a single trail over his eye and down his cheek. Two stains came under his shirt, bleeding through. Luke closed his eyes, always in his nightmares came such profound hopelessness. “Heh, it’s going to be too late. No one saved me the other times. What’s this one matter.”

“What?! That’s the guy from the hospital?!” Agatha remembered reading that name on the papers they had sent her back when Miles spoke to her at the station. What the fuck was going on. Why was she obsessed with this Gotch person ? And who was this guy ? She was pretty sure she did not recognize him but she felt like she had seen him before. “Well that’s great,” and things seemed to be getting greater. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood. “You are bleeding?!” Well no shit Agatha? “Why are you bleeding? When did they…” She was pretty sure that she did not see him getting shot. This did not make any sense. Any other time, she would have been starting to get a headache. “What do you mean? You need bandages, you need help,” she exclaimed. It was not in her habit to panic, but she had no idea where they would find a medic here. The streets were now eerily empty.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Lucas looked down at the wounds and felt nothing. “I don’t feel anything.” Numbness surfaced to these experiences, not ever wanting to relive them, his mind always pushing it away, making it seem less serious than it honestly was. Maybe it was a problem. He glanced at her, confused-- why in the world would this stranger help him? He wiped his cheek, smearing the dampness of red, disoriented from the this entire scene. “Why?” Lucas had said the same thing to Jared, to Winn, to Ariana. So many people that word was directed at, never understanding that he was worth saving. That he didn’t have to keep suffering. “If you help it's just going to end bad for me. How could you stop someone who already got away with so much?” A slightly broken huffed laugh. The statue in the distance rumbled, shifted like its face was turning towards them. Luke shook his head. “I promised to stop feeling like this and it always surfaces anyway.”

“How? Those look really bad,” maybe it was bullshit, maybe it wasn’t, but she was going to trust her guts here and call bull. Agatha, taking off her belt, did her best to stop the bleeding with a tourniquet, then getting a handkerchief from her breast pocket, placed it on the wound. “Put you hand on this.” That’s when she noticed the wounds on his chest and covered her face. “When did you… Why are you bleeding? When?” She did not understand. She was pretty sure that she did not see him get shot, which meant that…. Either he was lying, either she was dreaming.

A floating city in the sky, the fact that she wore a Gibson hairdo on a 1910’s outfit, the goddamn blunderbuss, hostile people showing up for no reasons, people acting weird? This was definitely a dream, and it was time for her to wake the fuck up.

The world around them was shuttering, like a ripple on the surface of taunt water. Lucas’ subconscious didn’t want to thinking about any of this, and in his bed, he was stirring in familiar ways, trying to wake up. The dark swirl in the distance came closer, an impossible black that seemed to be staring straight into the universe. He dabbed things with the handkerchief, but he knew it wouldn’t really matter. He quickly put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, listen-- whoever you are, just thanks for sticking up for me there, shooting those guys,” Luke seemed conflicted. With that he left the world they had created, and Luke with a start sat straight up in bed. Breathing heavy, but his hand mocked holding something in his hand.

Lucas blinked a few times, and turned the light on. That face. It was clear in his mind, and something more clung to him. A feeling about his situation he toyed with but never had hope on.

#wickedswriting #ignore my bad pun #zz flop #chatzy #para #para lucas

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swimmingnewsie · 4 years

Text

Of Coffee and Cookies (Chapter 4)

Hi guys! It’s your local insomniac back with another chapter! This one is a mix of light fluff and soft angst. Thanks for all your support!

Please enjoy!

Link to Chapter 1 Link to Chapter 2 Link to Chapter 3 Link to AO3

---

It had been a month since their first walk and coffee. As the time passed, coffee dates became more frequent. Usually Maren would grade her students' assignments while Elsa read through research or graded her own students' papers and assessments. It was nice. Elsa would never admit it, but she liked having someone check in on her throughout the day. Anna was great, but having a real friend-

Well she wasn't exactly sure what to call Maren. They were definitely friends, but she wasn't sure if they were more than that. They went out a lot, but did that mean they were dating? But whatever they were, it was nice.

Elsa had cancelled their study session this afternoon, her monthly cycle rendering her useless to anything other than lying on the couch in pain. And yet, here Maren was cuddling next to her while they watched a sitcom on Netflix. Elsa was sure she was an angel, letting her lie against her and holding the heating pad over her cramping stomach. If she did much more for her, Elsa was pretty sure she would cry.

She must have dozed off at some point for she woke up with a blanket covering them both. Maren was singing softly in her ear, while gentle hands ran through her hair. Her head still ached, but the melody made her feel so safe and secure that her pain melted into the background. Elsa slowly opened her eyes, wanting to see the scene for herself.

"Good morning, snowflake," she said brushing a stray hair away. "Have a good nap?"

The nickname made her blush. It was something new, but something right. Elsa nodded slightly enough for Maren to feel against her chest. "How long was I out for?"

"Not long, maybe an hour. I paused our show."

"Thank you," she mumbled, sleep pulling at her eyes.

"You can go back to sleep," she said softly. "It would probably make you feel better. Your stomach still hurting? I could get you another ibuprofen."

Elsa shook her head. It was rude to sleep while a guest was there, even if she wasn't feeling her best. "Stay with you," she said, words slurred with sleep. "Don't wanna be a bad host."

Maren giggled, making Elsa's heart flutter. Why was she feeling like this from just a simple sound? "You're not a bad host. You can't be a bad host when you're sick."

"Not sick," Elsa mumbled, allowing herself to curl closer into Maren.

"Well you certainly don't feel good." Maren continued to stroke her hair, making loose braids as she spoke. "So go back to sleep and ignore mother nature for a bit. She'll still be there when you're ready to be awake."

Elsa hummed against her. "I'm ready to be awake."

Maren huffed a laugh. "Uh huh."

Elsa gave her own small laugh. "Talk to me. I wanna know what's going on in your world."

"My world, huh? Well I've got the most beautiful girl in the world laying against me." That made Elsa poke at her belly- she wanted to know about other things. "Alright alright. Well there was something I wanted to ask you about." Well that certainly perked her interest.

"My cousin is getting married in a few weeks and I was wondering if you would want to go as my plus one."

"As a date?" Was this her sign? Her way of asking her out?

"It's- it's okay if you don't. I know that we haven't been together long and if meeting my family makes you nervous that's okay. You- you don't have to."

Tears pricked in her eyes. "We're together?"

Maren's eyes went wide. "I thought we were? I thought that first day at the coffee shop was our first date?"

Elsa paled. Oh no, she didn't want Maren to think she wasn't interested. She just didn't know that she thought they were together. "I thought that you just wanted to be friends. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you out. But now I think that might be moot."

Maren blushed, then got that little look in her eyes- the same one she saw in Anna's when she was about to be mischievous. "Well I'd hate for those nerves to go to waste. Would you like to ask me out?"

Elsa felt her heart start racing. "Now? But you- you already thought we were together?"

"But you didn't," she grabbed her hand and squeezed it right. "So let's get on the same page."

Elsa rubbed at her eyes with her free hand, smiling softly. "Will you, Honeymaren, go with me to a movie as soon as I am able to get off the couch without crying in pain?"

"Oh, snowflake, I would happily. Pick the time and the day," she said teasingly bringing their hands to her face. She ran a hand through Elsa's hair again, noticing her eyes were getting heavy again. "Go back to sleep. We can talk about our date later. I'm getting you some ibuprofen."

Elsa nodded, letting herself fall back against the soft pillows. "I wanna go with you," she murmured.

"Go where, Els?" Maren asked, tucking the blanket around her sleepy form.

"To the wedding. I wanna go with you."

Maren grinned. "Then I'll send our RSVP tomorrow."

In her fleeting consciousness, Elsa couldn't help but feel happy. Maren wanted to be with her. Maren wanted her to meet her family. And that was something worth feeling happy about.

---

"Oh who's a good boy? You're a good boy. Yes you are."

Ryder couldn't help but smile as Kristoff talked to the small dog in front of him. Volunteering at the animal shelter was something he had done since he was sixteen. Usually it was something he did alone. Sharing it with Kristoff was something different, but something right.

He was so good with the animals. It didn't shock him per se. The one time he had gone over to Kristoff's apartment, he saw how the man treated his dog. He was kind and gentle, a very different demeanor than what he usually saw at the coffeehouse.

But Ryder couldn't help but feel like he was doing something wrong. He saw the way that his sister blushed and got flustered over her girlfriend. She would talk about how her heart fluttered when she talked to Elsa or how she just wanted to be close to the other girl. Ryder was happy, but he didn't feel those kinds of things. If he thought about it, he never really felt that desire in his whole life.

He was happy with Kristoff. He made him smile. He had a little extra kick in his step when he entered Mermaid's Siren knowing the boy would be there. But why didn't he want to kiss Kristoff or touch him the way his sister wanted Elsa?

Ryder sighed. Maybe he was just a really late bloomer. He wanted those feelings, but they just weren't there.

Suddenly he felt a hand run through his messy hair. "Why so glum? We're in dog paradise." Kristoff smiled at him, going to sit next to him.

Ryder shook his head. "Just thinking, that's all."

Kristoff nodded with that knowing look. "Is it something that can be helped by Miss Samantha here?" In his arms was a border collie puppy, cuddling close.

Ryder smiled. "Anything can be fixed with a good girl like Miss Samantha." They petted and rubbed her a while, giving her plenty of love and attention. "The only bad thing about volunteering here is sometimes I just want to take them all home with me. That's how I got Nokk after all."

Kristoff nodded with that understanding look that made him melt. "Sven was a rescue too. But who rescued who is still up for debate."

"Yeah?" he asked, curiosity in his eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded again. "Things were tough for a long while. My biological parents died when I was eight. But one of the last things we did together was get Sven from the shelter. Ma and Pa wanted me to have someone to grow up with, even though they didn't want anymore kids. Pa and I picked him out together, this timid German Shepherd. And when Ma and Pa passed and I went to the system, by a miracle Sven was able to stay with me."

Ryder could tell that the story was a lot for Kristoff. His voice had changed and he kept his eyes down. He reached out a gentle hand. "I'm glad you had each other."

"Me too." Kristoff squeezed his hand back.

They didn't talk for a while after. It was an easy silence, working through the dogs' crates, cleaning them and giving them some love. It was nice.

"Hey, Kris?" Ryder eventually asked after a bit.

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you. My cousin is getting married in a few weeks. I was wondering if you would want to go with me. I know it's really fast and it's okay if you don't want to and my family barely knows I'm gay but-"

Kristoff shut him up with a quick peck on the lips. "I would love to."

Ryder smiled, a bit dazed from the kiss. "Thank you." A kiss didn't feel like he thought it would. It was soft, sure, but it didn't give him that famous spark everyone talked about. He shook his head, willing himself to return to that topic later. "It's a date then."

"It's a date."

---

"You mean you both got invited to a wedding? What are the odds of that?" Anna asked as she worked on breakfast. Sunday breakfast at the sisters' apartment had become a staple since Anna had moved in. It gave a sense of consistency in a time when everything was changing so quickly around them. Because no matter what stress Elsa's lab brought her or how many rude customers Anna and Kristoff dealt with, pancakes and hash browns and homebrewed coffee made everything better.

"It would appear so," Kristoff said setting plates on the table. "Wonder if it's the same wedding."

"It could be," Elsa said, shrugging in her dark blue blanket. "Mine is a local wedding. I wouldn't be surprised if Honeymaren and Ryder had similar friends."

"Still it just seems odd to me." Anna pondered for a minute as she prepared the potatoes. "Do you two even have anything to wear?"

"Jeans and a button down." They both responded in almost perfect unison.

Anna dropped her spatula. "Oh no you're not. You are not going to a wedding in jeans and a flannel. It's not the end all be all of fashion, guys."

"Says the one in Spiderman pajamas," Elsa teased, moving to flick her sister playfully.

"First off, it's breakfast. We always do breakfast in pajamas. And second off, you two are getting nice clothes for this wedding iI swear to God." She hurriedly finished the food, putting it on the table. "Eat up. We're going shopping after breakfast."

Elsa and Kristoff groaned in unison knowing there was no getting out of this one.

---

“Well don’t you look nice?” Anna teased, looking at her best friend and sister. “Didn’t I tell you this would be better than jeans and flannel? You look like someone I’m proud to claim.”

Elsa rolled her eyes, going to give her sister a gentle knock on the head. “Perhaps, but you know I don’t like admitting when you’re right.” She was stunning in a pair of dress slacks and a silk blue top. Her hair was styled in a gorgeous braided updo, something befitting a queen. Between the hair and her delicate makeup, Anna swore she looked like their mother.

“It takes all the fun out of it,” Kristoff teased. He too looked handsome. Anna finally convinced him to get a pair of pants fitted for him instead of the loose fitting pants he usually wore. They looked perfect on him, highlighting assets that Ryder would be more than thrilled to see. He wore a pale green button down with a black tie.

“Oh shush, both of you.” Anna smiled swatting back at her sister. “Can’t I give you guys compliments?”

“You can, but we might be snarky back. Isn’t that right, Elsa?”

“Absolutely.” Elsa leaned down and pressed a kiss to her sister’s head. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine, promise.” Anna stroked Bruni softly where he laid on the couch. “I have three cats and Netflix. I can occupy myself for a night.”

“Just call if you need anything. You know I’ll come home.” It made Anna roll her eyes a bit. She knew her sister was just being protective, but she deserved some fun too.

“I know you will.” Anna gave her sister’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Now get going! You’re going to be late!”

Soon after receiving their invitations, Kristoff and Elsa realized they were in fact going to the same wedding. Maren and Ryder apparently had been friends since they were babies in an odd twist of fate. It was weird, but Elsa took solace in the fact that she would be able to stay with both Maren and Kristoff at the wedding. Her social anxiety was improving, but events like this could still serve as a trigger sometimes.

“Go get yourself a drink. It’ll settle your nerves,” Maren encouraged as they waited around for the bridal party at the reception. The ceremony itself had come and gone without much stress. It was a little long; Elsa didn’t realize they had been pulled into a Catholic wedding, but Maren held her hand the whole time making it a bit easier to bear.

The reception however brought its own set of issues. There were too many people, too much noise. The music wasn’t playing yet, but she knew it would be coming soon. Elsa stammered over to the bar. She usually hated alcohol, but she wanted to get through the night. She wanted to enjoy herself and enjoy herself with Maren, not hiding in the bathroom. Elsa ordered a neat whiskey and prayed it would be enough.

“Better?” Maren asked when she returned.

Elsa kept her head down, but nodded. She wasn’t going to ruin this night for Maren.

“Snowflake, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Elsa bit her lip, head still down. “This is just a lot. It makes it hard to breathe, and I don’t want to ruin your night and I don’t want to leave but I don’t want to be here either and my head is fuzzy and I can’t think and-”

“Elsa.”

Maren took her hands, holding tight. It brought her out of her head and back in the moment. “Let’s go for a walk and see how you feel then okay? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay somewhere that’s making you upset.” Elsa nodded. “Come on.”

The walk helped. Her focus slowly returned and breathing calmed. Maren spoke sweet nothings in her ear, letting her ride the wave of anxiety however she needed to. Elsa was glad she was here, kind and gentle. It wasn’t the first anxiety attack she had in front of Maren, but it was the first when they were alone.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into Maren’s shoulder as they approached the building.

“Anytime.”

The rest of the reception went without much fanfare. Speeches were made, dances were had, and dinner was decent. Elsa found herself having an alright time, alternating between the dance floor and outside for air. It was good.

“Ryder! Maren!” The bride ran up towards their table. “I have to get a picture together with my favorite twins!”

“We’re the only twins you know, Lena,” Ryder teased, coming up and hugging the young woman. “Come on, little sister!”

Maren got up quickly, elbowing him. “Ten minutes doesn’t make that much of a difference.”

Twins? Her girlfriend and her best friend’s boyfriend were twins?

“Kristoff, how-”

“I don’t-”

“Maren never mentioned any siblings.”

“Ryder either.”

“Did they just forget to tell us?”

“Well...” Maren dragged off, rejoining the conversation. “At first yes. But then a few days ago, we realized it should be something to mention. And then someone thought this would be a fun way to find out.”

“Hey! You agreed to it!” Ryder piped in.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Maren got down in front of Elsa holding her hand. “Are you mad at me?”

Elsa shook her head. It was good natured and funny, how could she be mad? It would take a little bit to the idea that Kristoff’s boyfriend was related to her girlfriend. “This just means that Anna isn’t the only trickster in our group. Now go take a picture with your cousin!”

Secrets could hurt sometimes, but they could be fun sometimes too. It was just a little extra quirk.

#frozen #frohana #rydoff #elsamaren #frozen fanfic #my fic #we're going to a wedding kids #shennanigans ensue

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avegetariancannibal · 6 years

Text

“Pampered Chef”

Some Hannibal AU crack commissioned for @nephila-clavipes from @avidreadr2004

Will waited in Jack Crawford's office, wishing he were anywhere else. He'd canceled a perfectly boring lecture to hear about whatever new case had come up. Worst of all, Brian Zeller was waiting with him and showing him prank videos on his phone.

"Watch---this guy's about to get scared by a donkey in his house---wait for it---"

"You just gave away the surprise," Will said. "There's no incentive to keep watching now."

Brian looked taken aback. "Dude, there's a donkey!"

Finally, Jack showed up with Alana Bloom in tow. She saw Brian and gave Will an apologetic look.

"I believe a new serial killer is in town," Jack said as he sat down. "Three suspicious deaths in Roland Park. Many of their organs---heart, kidneys---were taken."

Brian whistled. "Nice neighborhood."

"That's what caught your attention?" Will asked.

Brian blinked at him. "What?"

"I want Will and Brian to pose as husbands," Jack said. "Get to know the neighbors, feel around to see if anyone seems suspicious."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for Beverly Katz to pose as my spouse?" Will asked.

Brian huffed. "Don't be so heteronormative, Will."

Will rolled his eyes. "I don't care that you're a man. I care that I can't stand you. Everyone will know we're not really married."

"Actually," Alana started, "all the victims so far have been in unhappy marriages."

Brian batted his lashes at Will in exaggerated fashion. "I can't wait to be unhappily married to you, dear."

***

Their introduction to Roland Park would come in the form of a Pampered Chef party hosted by Alana's friend and former mentor who lived in the neighborhood. Hannibal Lecter had been a surgeon, then a psychiatrist, and now sold kitchen gadgets to well-off suburbanites. He was also incredibly handsome. Will was rendered a little awkward by just how handsome he was.

"Pleased to meet you," Hannibal said. Brian thrust his hand out, but Hannibal was returning Will's stare intently. Will blinked and glanced away. "Not fond of eye contact, are you?"

Will was about to make some excuse when Alana interrupted to explain their roles for the evening.

"You two are Hannibal's friends who are thinking about buying the house next door," Alana said. "That way, nobody will think it's odd for you to be asking questions, even slightly nosy ones. Hannibal, you just go about whatever you normally do as host, and give Will any background on the guests he needs."

Hannibal rubbed his hands together. "Exciting to be peeking behind the curtain. I've always been curious how the FBI goes about its business when it's not kicking in doors."

Will would've liked to stick closer to Hannibal, but the guests started arriving. He adjusted his glasses and steeled himself for the socializing that would be required of him.

***

Everyone seemed like a potential murderer.

There was Bedelia Du Maurier who seemed to take almost fiendish delight in flattening a Cornish game hen between two polypropylene cutting boards. (A steal at $19 each!) There was Tobias Budge who kept making orchestra references that somehow weirdly sounded like jokes about gutting people. There was an old colleague of Hannibal's named Abel Gideon who kept asking which Pampered Chef tools could be used to kill his family, and instead of being horrified, everyone laughed!

Perhaps the real mystery, though, was why all these obviously wealthy people came on a regular basis to an obviously even wealthier man's house to buy microwave popcorn bowls and plastic herb choppers.

"Are these things even any good?" Will wondered aloud as he picked up an apple wedger.

A woman dressed like a flapper laughed. "I haven't the faintest idea, my dear! I just keep buying them so Hannibal keeps inviting me to his feasts!"

While everyone nibbled on canapes, Hannibal took Will aside. "Anyone seem suspicious yet?"

"Just about everyone," Will admitted. "Well, not the flapper lady. She just seems eccentric."

"Mrs. Komeda knows everything about everyone," Hannibal said. "You should talk to her. She has her teeth into the entire neighborhood. So, are you married in real life?"

Will was taken off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Uh... no. That's just for the undercover thing." He glanced around to make sure nobody was nearby. "I would never be married to Brian in real life."

Hannibal leaned in closer. "Because he's a man?"

"Because I can't stand him," Will whispered back.

Hannibal seemed to think about that for a while, but then before he could respond, Mrs. Komeda came swooping in and took him by the arm.

"Darling, what about the cooking demo you've been promising us?" she asked, her tone playfully scolding.

Hannibal nodded towards Will. "If you'll excuse me, perhaps we could continue this chat later?"

Will nodded with enthusiasm. "Of course!"

Hannibal led everyone into his expansive kitchen and began pulling out pieces from what he swore was the best six-piece, non-stick cookware set money could buy.

"Can you still get a good sear with it?" one of the guests asked. "I have a non-stick pan at home and the meat always comes out gray."

"The trick is to ensure the pan is thoroughly heated before placing the meat," Hannibal said. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing lean but well-muscled forearms. "Allow me to demonstrate---Oh, but first! I want to thank everyone for coming to last month's Pampered Chef party. Thanks to your purchases, I was awarded a new ice cream sandwich maker, which I will be demonstrating later for dessert."

Polite applause and cheers of congratulations went up among the gathering.

Hannibal bowed graciously. "Now, back to the meat!"

Brian sidled up to Will and leaned in to whisper something. "Alana's buddy there is our killer."

Will glared at him. "And here I thought I couldn't possibly dislike you more. Why would you even say that?"

"Just watch, would you?" Brian said, and nodded toward the kitchen island.

As everyone watched, Hannibal whipped out a santoku knife, a frying pan... and something that sure as hell looked like a human heart.

Will sighed. "Damn it."

***

He waited until everyone had left the party before confronting Hannibal in the kitchen.

"Oh, Will!" Hannibal beamed at him. "I'm glad you stayed. I was hoping we'd get a chance to resume our conversation. Where's Brian?"

"Outside calling the police," Will said.

"Does that mean you've found your culprit?" Hannibal asked.

Will ignored the question. "You know what's messed up? I was almost more upset at the idea of Brian being right, than at Alana's hot friend for being a murderer."

Hannibal reached for a knife just as Will reached for his gun.

Hannibal held up his hands. "I was just going to wash it---wait. Am I the hot friend in question? You think I'm hot?"

Will scoffed. "You know you're hot! Don't act shy and don't act like you're not a murderer!"

Behind him, a woman shrieked---not in fear, but in obvious, incandescent rage. "How dare you! How dare you!"

He glanced back just in time to see Mrs. Komeda leap at him like a well-dressed spider monkey, her face a mask of perfect fury. She tackled him to the ground. Suddenly there was a tomato knife in her hand, its economical blade glinting in the light. Will threw her off.

She rolled away but bounced back into a fighting crouch. Her eyes narrowed into hateful slits. "I will not let you take Hannibal's feasts away from me! I did away with all the others who tried to get the Home Owner's Association to shut down his Pampered Chef parties! Too 'low class' for the neighborhood, they said. They were jealous of his cooking!"

It was a lot to process. The FBI had thought an unhappy marriage was the link, but perhaps such a thing was just so damned common that all her victims shared that trait.

"Mrs. Komeda, put the tomato knife down," Hannibal said. "You're bringing shame to the good name of Pampered Chef."

She screamed again and lunged towards Will.

Hannibal, in a move as graceful as it was athletic, vaulted over the kitchen island and landed between Mrs. Komeda and Will. He caught her by the hand and flicked the knife out of her grasp. In an instant, he had whipped off his apron and used it to tie her wrists together. Will had never seen anything sexier in his whole damned life.

Just then, Jack Crawford barged into the kitchen, gun at the ready. "Hannibal Lecter, you're under arr---"

"Jack, it's not him," Will said. "It's the flapper."

Jack paused without lowering his gun. He looked back and forth between Mrs. Komeda and Hannibal, then at Will. "What in the hell?"

Mrs. Komeda burst into tears. "I-I just wanted... I just wanted h-his c-cooking!" The words were nearly lost in her uncontrollable sobs.

Will watched as Jack replaced the apron with handcuffs and led a still-weeping Mrs. Komeda out to a patrol car. There was still the question of how Hannibal, a former surgeon, wouldn't have recognized human organs when Mrs. Komeda presented them to him. He might've been in on it. He was probably in on it. Will couldn't delude himself otherwise. He made up his mind to tell Jack about it.

Hannibal came up beside him. "You never answered me, you know. You think I'm hot?"

Will blinked and turned to look up at him. He found bourbon-colored eyes gazing back at him from under a fringe of fight-tousled hair. He smiled against his better judgment. "Yeah," he said. "I think you're hot."

He could always tell Jack later.

(end)

#hannigram #hannibal #hannibal crack #my fic

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parkersenses · 7 years

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The History of Us

Fandom: Marvel Ship: Peter Parker x Reader Requested: Yes (I have a request for a prompt idea when you get the chance. If you could do 60. "Happy Birthday" and 37. "Can i kiss you?" where the reader's birthday is today but the one person they thought would remember (peter) forgot because of avenger stuff. The reader ends up getting into a situation and Spider-Man saves them. You can reword or change anything you like. Also im requesting this cause my birthday is Sep. 23rd) Genre: Neutral?? Warnings: Mentions of Food, Break-Ins, Kissing A/N: This was requested by @frappichino23 a few days ago so I pushed it up on my request list to post it today!! Happy Birthday, my dude!!

You were always one of those kids who looked forward to their birthday– what kid wasn’t like that? You would prepare days in advance for the day, planning out your outfit and your plans for the day. You would give your parents a list of what gifts you wanted nearly months beforehand, and you even added the flavor cake you wanted onto it as well.

It stuck with you as you grew up. You turned ten, and you knew exactly what outfit you would be wearing a week before the day even came. You turned fourteen, and you began to plan your sixteenth birthday party. And when the day came two years later, it was perfect. All that planning had paid off.

And still at eighteen, you were excited. It was your senior year of high school, and having to go to school on your birthday wasn’t the greatest option, but you stuck through it. You knew your friends would be waiting for you to wish you a ‘happy birthday’, and they would surely have a cupcake for you at lunch, just like they did every year.

You were most excited to see Peter. He was always so enthusiastic about your birthday, possibly even more so than you were. On your sixteenth, he had made you dozens of cupcakes to spell out ‘Sweet Sixteen’ for you when you got home from school. Shortly after that day, he told you his secret. And on your seventeenth birthday, he let you wrap your arms tightly around him as he swung the two of you from skyscraper to skyscraper. He had landed on the top of one where you found a picnic already set up.

It was by far the best birthday you had ever had. And you were looking forward to see how Peter would help you celebrate this year.

So when you walked into the cafeteria that day to your normal table to see your friends there without Peter, well, you could say you were a bit disappointed.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked as you sat down to a cupcakeless table in front of you. (You knew Peter was always the one to supply the cupcake.)

“Happy birthday!” Ned, Michelle, and Gwen all shouted at you, smiling. They ignored your question, but you smiled lightly in response.

“Thanks, guys,” you said, digging your phone from your bag to text Peter.

“He hasn’t answered any of our texts,” Ned said as you saw you do this, and you immediately frowned. You texted him nevertheless and waited for his response. The lunch bell rang for you to go back to class, and his response never came. Neither did the cupcake.

You pretended to be okay with it. It was fine; he was only one person. All your other friends had been there, had wished you a ‘happy birthday.’ It was fine, and you were fine. So why were you feeling so upset as you walked home later in the day?

You couldn’t help but hope to see Peter standing inside your house with something, like tower of cupcakes, when you opened the door. But it wasn’t the image you were met with. You gasped as you saw your furniture flipped in every which way, glass shattered on the ground from vases and mirrors around the living room. You closed the door silently behind you, taking out your phone and dialing the police with one hand. You hovered your finger over the call button as you took another step into the house.

You turned into the hallway towards the stairs where you saw picture frames knocked onto the ground, the frames broken in half. You bit your lip, looking at the photo of you and Peter on your sixteenth birthday. The two of you were kneeling in back of the cupcake-made words, smiling brightly with your arms around each other.

You would have to buy a new frame.

A clattering upstairs made you jump. You weren’t sure if you should’ve just called the police right then and there, or if you should’ve gone to investigate the noise. But wanting to take the safer road, you quietly made your way back down the stairs and back outside as you pressed the call button.

The police arrived almost ten minutes later, and you had been watching your front door from across the street with wide eyes the entire time. You waited for someone to come out, or for something to happen, but nothing did. You called Peter as you stared, begging for him to pick up, but your heart dropped when you heard his voicemail begin.

“Hey, Pete,” you sighed into the phone shakily. “I called the police first because I figured that was the logical thing to do, and you haven’t picked up your phone today, so.”

You heard the sirens in the background and hurried your words. “I think someone’s in my house. The whole place is wrecked; everything is knocked over and shattered. I’m waiting across the street for someone to come. I’m okay, though, so don’t worry. Bye, Peter.”

The police cruisers parked in front of you, and the officers jumped out of their cars seconds after. “Which house is it, Miss?” One asked as they stared at you, leaning against the concrete sidewalk.

You pointed across the street to your home, and you wondered what they would find as they ran across the street and into the house. You saw a few of them pull out their guns, making you more worried. A few minutes later, you could hear yelling. You weren’t sure what they were saying.

“(Y/N)!” You heard someone yell, and you jumped, turning your head in the direction of the voice. You felt the relief flood into you as you saw the red suit make its way towards you.

“Hi,” you breathed out, looking up at him from where he stood in front of you. “The police are inside now.”

He nodded and looked towards the house, taking a step towards it. He looked at you once more before running to the house. “I’ll just be a minute.”

And he was right, when only a short minute later, the police were leading a mask-clad man out of your house. There were webs all over him. Spiderman followed behind them, walking nonchalantly with his arms crossed. You snorted when the police officers thanked him, and he nodded stiffly.

You stood up from the sidewalk when the officers gave you the go-ahead, and you walked up to Peter across the street. “Wanna come inside with me?”

“Yeah,” he responded quickly, and you knew he was blushing under the mask when you rose an eyebrow at him. The two of you made it into your house again, and you sighed when you looked at the damage once more.

“Where were you today?” You asked, trying to distract yourself as you examined the now empty walls.

“Avenger stuff,” he mumbled, looking around, just as distraught as you. This was a second home to him; you knew he hated to see it torn up. “Some alien people, I don’t even know. Mr. Stark needed my help. It was a tough one, but we got them all in the end.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, and you looked over at him. “Did you get hurt?”

He shrugged, slipping the mask off of his face. He didn’t seem to have any bruises on his face, rendering you surprised. It was unordinary for him to have an injury-free face. “I got thrown around a bit, but I’m fine. I always am.”

You nodded once more as you walked up the stairs, keeping your eyes away from the damaged picture of you and Peter. You silently wondered when he would remember. You were almost afraid to walk into your bedroom as you opened the door slowly, holding your breath. You pushed the door open, peeking your head in slightly. You sighed in relief when you saw everything intact; the thief must have planned to go into your room last.

You moved to sit on your bed, slouching and putting your face into your hands. This wasn’t at all how you imagined your day going. You heard Peter take a seat next to you, and he softly rested a hand on your back, rubbing circles onto it. It barely calmed you.

“Today’s my birthday,” you finally said, voice cracking. You felt Peter’s hand stiffen on your back. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, so you looked up from your hands; his face crumpled.

“What?” He asked, although you knew he heard you. “That’s not- what’s today’s date? I swear-”

“It’s today, Peter,” you cut him off, and he bit his lip, shaking his head.

“(Y/N)-”

“Can you leave?” You asked, looking away from him. You heard the hitch in his breath, and worked harder to keep your gaze off of him. “I know I called you, but I just want to be alone right now.”

He stayed beside you for a few more moments before standing up. “Okay,” he whispered, and he moved towards the door. He stopped before he closed the door behind him.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N),” he said.

You curled into yourself when you heard the click of the lock.

It wasn’t a happy birthday at all.

You didn’t go to school the next day. You were too exhausted from the day before to talk to anyone, or to have to deal with seeing Peter’s face. You knew he didn’t mean to do anything wrong, but in your eyes, the person you were looking forward to seeing most on your birthday was the one who didn’t even remember.

Your phone rang with a text at five o’clock in the evening, and you hesitated on looking at it. You didn’t want it to be Peter, but in some odd way, you hoped he would be the one reaching out. You grabbed the phone from your nightstand before you could second-guess yourself.

Peter: Meet me at the park in a half an hour. Please come.

You bit your lip. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see him. You wanted to stay in bed for the rest of the day. But your heart got the best of you, and you got up to change into more presentable clothes.

As you walked out of your front door, you took your phone out of your pocket and dialed the police. You hovered your finger over the call button; you had gotten so much more paranoid than usual after yesterday’s events. Arriving at the park a few short minutes later, you were met with darkness.

“Peter?” You called out hesitantly, holding your finger closer over your phone.

All of a sudden, the whole park lit up in front of you. The trees were covered in white lights, lanterns hanging from a few branches. There were arches of webs hanging from tree to tree, and you laughed lightly. They were glowing, and you wondered if Peter had made a new web concoction just for you.

And standing under one of the arches, there he was. He wore a suit, a striking opposite to his usual one, with a dress shirt and a bowtie. You felt the smile light up your face just as much as the lights around you glimmered.

“Hi,” he spoke shyly, and both of you took a few steps towards each other.

“Hi,” you responded, just as shy. “What is all this?”

“I, um,” he looked around, cheeks growing red. “I owed you this.”

You shook your head, letting out a breath. “Peter-”

“Don’t talk yet,” he interrupted you, looking back into your eyes. “I had a plan, for your birthday,” he broke out into a bashful smile. “I would do this, hang all the lights around and some flowers that I had bought a few days ago. But the flowers are all wilted now, so I obviously had to improvise.”

He motioned to the webs above you, and you laughed softly again at the sight of them. They may have looked ridiculous, but they made your heart warm. It showed how much he cared about this, about you.

“And then we’d sit under the gazebo in the middle of the park,” you looked towards it, but it was hard to see. It wasn’t lit up like the rest of your surroundings. “I didn’t have enough time to go get more lights for it, sorry.”

He looked bashful again, and you shook your head once more. “Don’t be. This is beautiful, Peter.”

“I’m not done,” he said, a smile to his lips, and an eyebrow raised on his forehead.

“Okay, okay, go on,” you laughed.

“Um,” he stopped smiling to look nervous, and you tilted your head slightly. “And then I’d take your hand in mine,” he took more steps towards you, stopping with only a small amount of space between you.

You held your breath as he slowly, softly put his hand in yours. You let him slide his fingers between yours, and you felt the warmth in your chest grow. You wondered where he was going with this, and you tried not to let your hope get the best of you.

“And then I’d tell you,” he hesitated after he spoke, nervously looking at you. He took a deep breath before speaking again, and you felt your heart beat rapidly inside your chest. “And then I’d tell you that I love you.”

You breathed in deeply after he said the words, and for some reason, tears crowded in your eyes. You couldn’t believe he had just spoken the words, the words that you had been begging to hear from him for ages.

“You love me,” you asked, although it didn’t sound like a question.

“I love you,” he breathed out, looking relieved to finally say it, but at the same time, he looked immensely nervous for your response. “And not like, as a friend, like in-”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, laughing as you did so. And somehow, you didn’t feel nerves as you waited for his answer. You saw his nerves disappear as well as he smiled.

“Yes,” he said eagerly, taking your other hand in his. And then you leaned forward as he did, and your lips touched. You felt the relief seep into you as you pressed yourself closer to him.

And maybe your birthday wasn’t the greatest this year, but this day would forever go down in your history.

****************** I hope you like it, @frappichino23!! I was writing it quickly to get it done by today, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy!! Requests are open :)

Tag List: @quokkatrash @avengersgirllorianna @gdmora @sachiparker @chocolatekittys @thumper-darling @deans-angel-of-thursdays @vegeterianbassist @itsssmichelleee @frappichino23 @themilkface @shannonxbarnes @watchitburr @captain-sherlockomg @superwholockian5ever @teacher-crushed @duquesarosa @peter-my-parker @buckysberrie @neverlands-outcast @thespidersman @andreagracing @ketterdame @cat-in-a-hoodie @galacticamidala @kassidydem @radicalstars @lilyannez @a-bit-of-alot

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trendingnewsb · 6 years

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3 Terrifying Pieces Of Anti-Woman Legislation You Need To Know About Right Now

When I mention your body’s biggest enemy, you probably have something that came immediately to mind: your thighs, your arms, the pimple you got from dropping kettle corn into your mouth/all over your face so you could eat without sitting up for normal adult reasons. Or maybe you thought of the parade of fuckboys last few bros you banged who confirmed for you that some people just weren’t built to interact with the female body. This second guess is closer to what I’m actually talking about, because it similarly concerns a group of largely white men (if you’d like to fight me on your sexual history, feel free, I’m just taking a guess) who have no business with women’s bodies, and yet can’t leave them the fuck alone. Those people are called YOUR GOVERNMENT. (Mic drop, I am political.)

In all honesty, I probably don’t have a single friend who would describe me as political; I don’t even feel like I ignore the news on purpose, it just kind of floats past me, like everything that was ever said in a high school history class. But because I’m a selfish bitch I care about my readers very much, when I hear about bullshit new measures that will negatively affect my body both on a daily basis and in times of need, I am going to listen the fuck up and urge you all to do the same. Here’s a rundown of the three scariest pieces of legislation aimed to limit women’s choices right now—and for those of you with any remaining doubts that I really do not usually care/write about politics, please know that I literally just Googled the word “legislation” to make sure I was using it correctly. Feels good.

1. Remember When Obama Made Your Boss Pay for Your Birth Control? Yeah, That’s Over.

In a continued bid to out-evil Satan, Trump made a fun little announcement last Friday: He’s shut down the Obama-era law requiring most employers to cover co-pay-free birth control, an amazing measure we definitely all took completely for granted. Now, in the nation of Gilead Trump’s America, employers will be able to cite “religious or moral objection” to covering birth control, and BAM: You can no longer afford brunch, because that budget has been re-allocated to your “not getting pregnant” fund. Oh, and regardless of your birth control type, this shit is not cheap: My employer insurance had a fun two-week blackout last month and I was charged $200 for a 30-day supply of my GENERIC birth control pill. So don’t even try to come at me with that “just pay out of pocket, mer mer mer, women want everything for free” shit, TYLER.

Proposed Solution: If there is a guy you are regularly having sex with, and your birth control coverage is affected, ask him to pay for half. I know this doesn’t effect change on a policy level, but as a group, can women please stop accepting sole financial responsibility for preventing pregnancy? If the guy you’re fucking starts whining about the cost, just tell him there’s a 100% free alternative: You can stop having sex with him, forever.

2. 20 Weeks Pregnant? Cool, You’re Having a Baby Now.

Though this isn’t yet in immediate effect like the above measure, a bill recently passed through the House of Representatives criminalizing abortion after 20 weeks of pregnancy. Never mind the fact that if our government hates abortions so much, they probably shouldn’t have repealed the access to free birth control, which conveniently yielded lower abortion rates than we had in 1973, when abortion was made legal nation-wide. Never mind the disgustingly insulting title for this bill of “Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act,” which would perhaps have been more aptly titled “Pain-Capable and Very Much Born Adult Woman Punishment Act.” In this case, let’s focus on the fact that one of the bill’s co-sponsors, Tim Murphy of Pennsylvania, was literally texting his mistress to GET AN ABORTION while passing this bill through the House. Everything about this bill (and its relation to less-available birth control) is so alarmingly nonsensical that I’m almost ready to start buying into lizard-person theories. Given the one season I watched of , I feel like “handling” a mistress’ pregnancy is basically a rite of passage for most politicians—so why are they so fucking intent on making sure those abortions need to be illegal and unsafe? It’s definitely not a conspiracy to have more women die during the procedure, rendering them unable to talk about the affair, right? Wait…right?

3. A Special-Edition Coverage Slash For Pre-Pregnant, Pregnant, And Post-Pregnant Women

This bad boy, otherwise known as the Graham-Cassidy bill, is luckily having a lot of trouble getting passed, so there’s chance you won’t actually have to deal with this specifically. Which is good because I JUST spent two hours of my Monday at a Planned Parenthood phone bank defeating this nightmare of a bill that keeps popping back up like a zombie Whack-A-Mole, can I live for one week?? But honestly, every proposed healthcare reform bill this garbage-monster administration has spewed out has been pretty similarly shitty, so expect comparable measures if they manage to get anything through. This particular bill has gone ahead and banned women on Medicaid from visiting Planned Parenthood (straight up, I do not know what Medicaid is, but oh my god just allow women access to appropriate healthcare, our bodies are more complicated than yours and we fucking need it). Also, it’s restricted abortion coverage and maternity care in the same bill, so really (unless you’re a politician’s mistress!), these people would like to ensure that you get pregnant, stay pregnant, and bear the emotional, physical, and financial burden of that pregnancy all on your own. Just like how you got pregnant all on your own, without the help of any second party. Right.

Basically, the only common thread of these new measures is that our government doesn’t give a shit about you or your body. There’s no ideological or economic background that makes any sense, much like when Dean started motorboating D-Lo in the pool, thus jeopardizing his supposed “deep emotional connection” with Kristina, and the lucrative fandom love that could have launched a thousand Instagram sponsorships. So, I encourage you to start thinking about our government the way you think about the fuckboys we deal with on a daily basis: Until they shape the fuck up, we’ll be heavily looking into alternative options. You don’t let fuckboys tell you what to do with your body, so let’s get them out of these government positions where they can literally charge you for going against their dumbass ideas on what your body has access to.