#It clicked for me straight away but not for anyone else. They couldn’t work out why I was laughing.

[becrystalamazed]

I can’t believe their was a We’re Just Normal Men reference in the most recent episode of Only Connect!!!! And nobody got it!!!

For reference if you don’t know it (how?):

#only connect #hacker t dog #we’re just normal men #we’re just innocent men #It clicked for me straight away but not for anyone else. They couldn’t work out why I was laughing. #Youtube

[meow-town]

Dee x Fem! Very Girly! Reader

Requested by @grape-flavored-lipgloss !! Took me a while because I wanted to mass-post a bunch of requests, but I really hope you enjoy this! (Pretty long because I adore this idea and went a little bit off of the rails)

Summary : Dee with very girly s/o who wears a lot of pink. The Shvagenbagens don’t necessarily like her at first but she gets them to warm up to her.

-You definitely weren’t the person he expected to fall for. He expected to start liking someone with his style, his taste in music, similar interests. Someone like Lif, to be honest.

-Obviously, you weren’t the person he’d want to date the least. Diana easily takes that spot.

-He recognized your sweetness, and how kind you were. You knew how to dress, and you obvious took care of yourself.

-The science fair was coming up, and teams were assigned for projects. His teacher forgot to sort him into a team, and when they found out, they were both pissed.

-The teacher, cause Dee hadn’t told him anything. And Dee, because now he couldn’t work alone like he wanted to. (Not me basing this off of my dee x reader story)

-Anyways, he got paired up with you and some other kid who didn’t do jack shit to contribute to the project.

-You we’re constantly nice and kind, and never got very aggressive with the other student, despite his laziness. You would give great ideas, constantly be giving words of encouragement to Dee when going through experiments, offer to hold equipment, etc, etc…

-You were a team, which means you all shared a group chat, which means he had your number. (Thankfully he already had it before he started crushing, otherwise he never would’ve worked up the courage to ask you for it).

-Because Dee’s petty as hell, he put credits in the science project so the teacher would know that you and him were the only ones who did work. He deleted the group chat, as well.

-After that, you spent the rest of the science fair with each other. People would crowd around your project stand, amazed. Because, lets be real, it’s Dee. He would explain how it worked, and you shared the thought process behind it.  -After that, he invited you to a drink at the vending machines, his treat. What a gentleman.

-You two had a conversation over fizzy sodas (or something else, if you don’t like those) and mostly complained about peers or teachers you hated. It brought you together, to say the least.

-He began to text you more, talk to you more and even choose to spend time with you over Lif! Lif!

-mf didn’t even notice he was crushing on you. He was just looking at you during lunch and it clicked.

-Dee’s internal monologue:

‘Are those new earrings? They look great. I should buy some jewelry for her, I know she likes that one brand. They match perfectly with her makeup. … She looks pretty in that makeup. …Prettier than… anyone else.  …

I don’t like her, thought. That’d be weird. She’s just my friend…. A very good friend….A very sweet friend who I can rely on… A very kind friend who just so happens to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, sweet little thing. I don’t like  her though, soft as her hair might look and as badly I might want to run my hands through it. Caring as she may be. I don’t like (f/n).

….

HOLY FUCK I LIKE (F/N)’

-The man was too stunned to speak 😦

-When I tell you he turned his head away SO FAST

-His face and neck were as red as a fire truck, and he was starting to sweat bullets.

-He choked on his food.

“Dee? Are you ok?”

-Can’t even face you. His coughing fit was interrupted by small, broken syllables.

“YE *COUGH* YEAH, IM *COUGH* FINE. DONT *COUGH,COUGH* WORRY”

-He went a whole other level of flustered when you started to pat his back. Heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. Palms growing sweatier.

-He couldn’t look at you for a straight WEEK. He avoided you everywhere he went, otherwise the whole blushy routine would start all over again. A part of him wanted to be by your side at all times though, so it was hard for him.

-When he started to hang out with you again, he had to mentally prepare himself for it. Just imagine Dee shouting to himself while he did his makeup every morning.

“Okay, Dee! You will go out there and you will be charming! And handsome! And she will fall for you!”

 -Heavy doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he can hear him from his room.

-Heavy already knew you from around school, and wasn’t judgmental of your style or friendship with Dee whatsoever! He though you looked very pretty, too!

-And back onto that, he gave away his brother.

-You were chatting, waiting for Dee to leave his final period. And out of the blue, Heavy went :

“Yeah, he was planning how to ask you out for months now! Never gets it right either.”

“He what?”

“Wait, he hasn’t told you yet?”

“Noooooo..?”

…

-Of course, you kind of figured and told him you also liked him. He’s really obvious. But the second Dee heard his brother had told you he liked you, he was seconds away from choking Heavy the way he did in the 2nd episode.

-He was really grateful once you reciprocated though.

-He asked for a kiss so shyly, too.

-His hands trembled as they cupped your cheeks 💓💥

-Meeting the folks was… interesting -Glam was very polite, he just didn’t expect a person so different from his son would win over his heart. -And I love Victoria, but she was straight up judgemental 😭

-She’s had a bad experience with girly girls, so she’s initially quite defensive. Thankfully, once you’re gone, the kids confront her about it.

“Ma, what is your problem with (f/n)?”

“Yeah! You keep giving her the stink-eye! She’s nice!”

-She gets super nervous and over sensitive. Glam knows about her past problems with girly girls and talks her through it. She’s on much better terms the next time you meet :)

-It gets awkward with the parents, but once you’ve proven to them you won’t hurt their son and that you’re very sweet, they treat you as a child of their own.

-Ches just full-on didn’t believe you were dating. You passed by his shop with Dee and Heavy and he cackled when Heavy told him you were dating. Once things got cleared up, he was very supportive although surprised.”

“Wow, you actually got a girlfriend. And here I thought you were going to be one of those guys who stays a virgin until 40…”

“UNCLE CHES-”

-Lif through your dynamic was super cute and she drew you two together! (Also she’s very glad Dee likes you because she was scared of rejecting the guy)

#metal family #metalfamily #metal family x reader #metal family dee #metal family dee x reader #dee #dee x reader #dee Shvagenbagen #dee Shvagenbagen x reader #dee metal family #dee metal family x reader #metal family headcanons

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 7

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“This would happen in New Jersey!” Donnie griped from underneath the van.

The street it had broken down on was desolate so you sat beside him on the road leaning against the large rear all-terrain tires. “How did you get your driver’s license?”

“Like anyone else.” He responded in time with the soft clicking of something being tightened.

“It’s hard to picture you standing in line at the DMV.”

“Oh, you meant legally?” Though you couldn’t see him you could tell he was joking. Kicking your leg out, you tapped your shoe against his ankle. “Ow. Oh. Oh no. I have been mortally wounded. Now you’re stuck in this tragic place.” His dry wit brought a lazy smile to your face.

You leaned your head back against the rubber and looked up at the sky. “We’re not gonna make it.”

“Time.”

You pulled out your phone. “Almost 8.”

“A surprising lack of faith from the individual that asked acquaintance to trust them before dragging them to arguably one of the most seedy restaurant fronts in the city.”

Staring at the lock screen photo of the two of you from your rooftop rendezvous, heat pooled in your cheeks. You wouldn’t have asked just any acquaintance to do that. The eventualities had been on the fringes of your thoughts since your meeting with Leo. For now you’d change the subject. “Tell me more about the van.” You shuffled your legs into a straight line and clicked your sneakers together. On the quiet road, you could just hear your aglets clatter against one another.

Donnie slid out from under the vehicle and posed on his side in a French girl manner. “I acknowledge that by changing the subject you are avoiding an admission of guilt, but hoo boy!!” He shouted and jumped to his feet. “I’ll take any opportunity to talk about the Dream Van!”

He held out a hand to help you to your feet and you took it. As soon as you were righted, he released you in favor of hugging the car. You tried to curb your smile by biting your lip.

“I spotted her like a glittering jewel in the desert of Repo Mantis’ scrap yard!” He ran a hand along the side door. “Still mostly intact, though obviously broken down, she called to me in a sweet language only I can hear.” 

You were so glad you were already chewing on your bottom lip. “Purple?”

He stopped and shot you a scandalized glare.

The distant streetlight just barely illuminated the pearlescent paint job in said shade. “You mentioned restoring the original color when I complimented her earlier.” Tipping to one side you let your shoulder bump up against the vehicle.

“Hey!” Donnie pried himself off the van to shoo you away. “Insult the Dream Van and you don’t get to touch the Dream Van.”

Maybe it was the relaxed boredom, but you just wanted to press his buttons a little more tonight. You took a step back, hands raised in defeat. He gave a curt nod and just as he was about to return to his explanation, you reached out a single digit toward the van.

“Don’t…” He warned, throwing up a challenging finger of his own.

As soon as your pointer made contact with the cold steel, you were both off. You kept a hand to the vehicle as your rounded the rear. Donnie forwent the obvious straight chase line and lept straight over the van, cutting you off on the other side. His smug smile turned to dismay as the worn tread on your sneakers skidded on an unknown sidewalk puddle. The two of your unceremoniously collided. You waited for gravity to take over, but the world didn’t seemed to rotate around you. Blinking you looked up to find Donnie had reflexively caught you and was staring at your with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that you don’t actually want to hear about the van.”

From your current proximity, you had a clear shot of the just barely marred shred of sadness in his otherwise deadpan gaze. “No, I do!”

He raised a single brow in question.

“I-“ You started and sighed, your eyes cast down from your delinquency. “It’s just we’ve been here for about an hour and I’m no help when it comes to this.” You nodded a head toward the vehicle and Donnie blew a relaxed puff of air out his nose.

“’Idle hands.’” He shook his head. “I have 3 brothers or did the prospect of an exciting night of science distract you from that?”

“You’re used to it.” You shook your head, parsing out his meaning. “I would say I’m a normal amount of excited for LSC After Dark.”

“It’s true.” Donnie tipped his head to the side with mild dismay. “If the Gilder Center had an afterhours event, that would be better suited to my tastes.”

“Are you telling me the science speakeasy and dance floor with a touch of science aren’t your speed?” You put on your best puppy dog eyes knowing full well Donnie had shot down the third Thursday party transformation at the Liberty City Science Center over text.

“Maybe if it actually had a modicum to do with science.” He rolled his eyes, but a thought seemed to strike him. “A techno rave where the beats per minute were set in a way to mimic heart rate.”

“Oh, it could be a five senses sort of thing!” You brightened, catching wind of his idea.

“A full body experience manipulation of one’s faculties.” You watched as he seemed to already be creating a mental map. “The ultimate implementation of jams!”

“Club owner has now been added to Donnie’s to-do list.”

“As if it already wasn’t.” His brows wiggled in a way that said he thought of everything. You smiled cheekily and felt a hum in his chest as his brain switched gears. That exact sound made you realize that he was still holding you. You cursed yourself for not taking the proper time to appreciate the moment. On the other hand, it was jarring that it’d felt so natural you hadn’t noticed it was happening at all. “Most of tonight’s events are placating stunts for masses that’d like to portray themselves as having scientific prowess. I’m more interested in gaining access to the planetarium and picking the brain of tonight’s Space Talk speaker.”

“Which we will miss if you don’t get the van running again.” Any hesitation you had about shifting his attention was immediately eclipsed by the guilt of causing him to miss the events he'd listed. He’d been willing to come all the way out to New Jersey to attend and that said more than enough about his excitement.

“Yes, of course.” He released you and brought a hand to his chin as he rounded the vehicle to gain access to the hood. “I regret having not installed a monitoring system!”

“Why didn’t you?” You followed him at a much slower pace.

He shot you a quick look that said you didn’t need to bother before scouring the engine.

You deserved that. “I wasn’t lying. I did want to know more about the van.”

He made a sound of wry sound of uncertainty, but spoke anyway. “It took many hours of negotiation, but I got the van and fixed her up.” He leaned back and you watched him disappear around the passenger side. “The Turtle Tank is my true baby, but her and Shell Cycles are more team oriented vehicles.” The back door slid open and you watched Donnie through the driver side window as he climbed in. “This is for my own personal use only. As such I retrofitted the interior with a miniature lab, but I left the exterior and major components street legal.”

“The dash certainly has a spaceship vibe.” You mused, turning your window attention to said lights and knobs.

“Mostly street legal.” He corrected himself and disappeared into the very back of the van. “I would have needed to rehaul the suspension to add a monitoring system!” He raised his voice to compensate for his distance. “The frame is basically just flat steel so the weight of the tech would have overtaxed the current build!”

“But because it’s an older car it was able to survive being junked to get into your hands, right?”

“Absolutely.” The vehicle shook as Donnie shuffled back out the door and rounded to the engine once more. “As Michael described it, I trend toward the ‘shiny and new,’ but there is a slew of merits to certain older technology. The first of which, in our current case, is there’s only so many things that can be wrong…”

You nodded, having not quite followed all the checks he had done so far.

Planting one hand on either side of the engine block, Donnie huffed. “The battery isn’t dead because the lights work, I tightened the terminals so those are fine, no sign that the alternator is bad, it turns over so ignition and starter work, and no sounds indicate timing belt or distributor…” He trailed off, clicking his tongue.

“So what’s left…?”

“That’s just it.” He lifted and smacked his hands down in frustration. “With my own two hands, I put every single part in this beautiful creature. I know where they’ve all been and where they all go-"

You watched as his face froze up. You blinked rapidly, making sure your vision was still good. Everything else seemed to be fine; it was just Donnie that had gone statuesque. “Uh…” You moved to his side. “Donnie? Earth to Donnie?” He was unresponsive so you waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello?” You were just about to touch him when his left eye twitched.

“That…”

“Wha-?”

“AbsolUTE IGNORAMUS!!!!” He roared back to life and you stumbled backward. Your heel caught the sidewalk and you sputtered to keep from falling. Donnie moved in an instant, snatching both of your wrists. You would have thanked him, but the look on his face said he had not done it for you safety. “Vacuum cleaner.”

“Vacuum cleaner?” You probably looked as pale as you felt.

“I was intensely focused on building the engine block!” Releasing you, Donnie whipped around and all but flung himself back into the van. The car bounced comically until he emerged with a small tool in his hand and dove straight into the engine. “Mikey had just finished his first whittling project and Raphael offered to vacuum up the saw dust.”

“Uh huh…?” You stared, mouth slightly agape. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you could hear something pop and the sound of a little trickle of liquid.

“It’s delicate work!” Donnie growled, pieces moving out of your view. “It takes a lot of focus!!”

“You rebuilt an engine from scratch…” You could only affirm what you knew for sure.

“They know how focused I can get! Which is why-" Donnie emerged with a small cylinder in his hand. “-when I was asked if the vacuum’s new filter had come in, I just brushed it off. Anyone of them is more than capable of opening packages!” He growled and held the cylinder out for you to see. As he jostled it the top popped off. “It’s not supposed to do that!” He hissed.

“What is-?”

“I had to special order some parts because of their age.” He reached down and grasped the lid of the object. “One such item was a fuel filter.”

“Which is…” You brought a feeble finger up. “That?”

“The filter that goes into the vacuum is cylindrical also.” He pulled the top off and blackened gunk clung to the ridges of the filter inside. “But why…?” Donnie dropped to his knees and held the object out in front of him in dismay. “Why did Raph think you had to saw through metal to get to a filter?! Why did he presumably put it in the vacuum, use said vacuum, then take it BACK OUT, PUT IT BACK INTO THE METAL CASING, AND INTO THE BOX FROM WHENST IT CAME?!”

You stared in twisted awe. You had never seen Donnie both this mad or this distraught before. “P-probably because it didn’t work…?”

“It didn’t…” Donnie’s voice had dropped down low along with his head. You leaned in slight. “OF COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK, IT’S FOR A CAR!!!” He screamed at you while snapping to his feet.

Now under the direct fire of the fury, you froze.

The fear must have translated to your face because Donnie dropped out of the snarl and you watched his eyes dart around your features. He pulled back and closed a hand around the filter. “I apologize. I’m not mad at you… I just…” He hung his head and went silent.

Still coming off the frightened adrenaline rush, you shifted your shoulders. “It’s… ok…”

“No, it’s not.”

“Donnie…” Tightened restraints wrapped around your heart as you realized he was distraught in a different way now.

“I’ll order you a ride home.” With his free hand, he unearthed his phone from his hoodie’s pocket.

“Wait!” It wasn’t just your mouth for once. Your whole body moved before your mind could process it. You leapt forward and covered his phone with your hands.

“It’s probably better for you to go home. I’ll wait here with the Dream Van until an auto shop opens up and get the part.”

You might have let him get away with it if had he moved even a muscle. Instead, he continued to keep his head down, staring at your hands. “Worries was one of the things we promised to discuss, remember?”

He was quiet, but gave a single tight nod.

“You were really excited for tonight.”

Another nod.

“Do you want to ship me off and let it end like this?” You wished so badly that he would look at you,

“It’s already 9, we really weren’t ever going to make it.”

“What did you say before?” You put force down on the phone. Like a pulley system, as his hands went down and his head lifted up. “Changing subjects was admitting guilt?”

“Incorrect.” His gaze was guarded.

“Ok, I didn’t get the exact words you used…”

“No.” He shook his head. “Incorrect as in I was not admitting guilt. I don’t want the night to end like this.”

“So, you just want to ship me off?” You didn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but maybe it was just the inherent content of the sentence.

“Absolutely not!” You were taken back by his sudden sternness. “I just…” He turned his head away. “I find it hard to look at you right now because when I do I’m reminded of the face you made earlier.”

You weren’t sure what to say.

“I snapped at you and you were scared of me.” You could feel the slightest tremble of his hands through the phone. “Your easy going temperament means you’re quick to forgive, but the same can't be said about me.”

“I don’t know if I would call myself easy-going…” The notion seemed ridiculous given your ever present anxieties.

 “You put up with me.” He turned and gave you a serious glance. His tone dripped with scornful sarcasm.

“Is that what you think?” You pushed his phone down all the way and stepped right into his personal space so he was forced to look at you. “I love spending time with you. Our banter, discussions, even when you just come in to pick up your weekly pizza order! Did any of that seem like I was just dealingwith your existence?”

It was a logic query that you knew he had no chance of rationalizing himself out of.

It took several moments, but the creases in his brow softened. “Emotions tend to be a grey area for me. When I feel them, I am often swept and bested.”

You tilted your head. That was familiar. “You must be joking.”

He was taken aback, but before he could protest, you continued.

“Yes, this time you got too heated, but this whole situation is beyond frustrating!” You swung your arms in a wide gesture. “It’s a very normal reaction.” He was so close you could see your reflection in his eyes. “I have never once thought of you as emotionless. You’re not heartless; you just struggle with articulating your emotions sometimes.”

He stared down at you with such intensity that you thought you might wilt under his gaze alone. Just as the speed of your heart rate was reaching critical levels, he took a step back and centered himself deep breath.  “Since, and you won’t hear me often admit this because it almost never happens, but I am not in my right mind. What do you propose we do now?”

You cleared your throat to get ahold of your own emotions before looking at him ruefully. “We make the guys, specifically Raph, pick us and the Dream Van up. When we’re on our way home, explaining what happened, you should show him the part without letting on that you know what happened.”

You watched as some life was breathed back into the otherwise limp hero. “Make him stew?” Donnie craned an eyebrow up in tentative curiosity.

“Just this once I thought I’d take inspiration from someone.” You rolled on the balls of your feet while giving him occasional side eyes.

“Finally.” He rounded the van and closed the open door. You were about to follow when he hopped on top of the vehicle and looked down at you. “I was wondering when I’d rub off on you.”

You smiled up at him and he offered his hand. Curious, you took it and squeaked in surprise as he hoisted you up onto the van with him. “Is it ok to be on top of your second baby?”

“She’s reinforced.” He noted and collapsed back onto the roof. He then held his phone above his head and appeared to be typing something out.

You folded your legs up against you body and rested your chin on your knees. You listened to the soft pattering of fingers on a phone screen until there was a thump against the roof. You turned to find Donnie had let his arm collapse, phone in hand one hand and the fuel filter in the other.

“Our target will be here in T-minus 24 minutes.” He reported with his eyes drifting shut.

“When you say it like that I don’t know how long I’ll be able to play the part.” You chuckled lightly, your lids feeling a similar tug.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” A long swath of silence stretched out between you before Donnie broke it with a barely legible, “Thank you.”

In case that was some kind of sleepy comment not meant for your ears, you responded with a soft hum of affirmation. You thought he might have fallen asleep when another sentence slipped from him.

“This is just like when Jupiter Jim became stranded on Sectron…”

That name sounded vaguely familiar. “Jupiter Jim.” You whispered carefully. “Is that like a movie character?” You had truly meant it as a wonder for yourself.

“Yeah, you know.” He folded his phone hand over his chest. “Marcus Moncrief?”

“Huh, never seen it.”

Donnie snapped upright so fast the whole van shook.

“Par-DON!?”

-

You didn’t think you had ever been this tired in your whole life. The final scenes of the movie swam across your face. You tried to keep your eyes focused as Lou Jitsu tore his way through a sea of bad guys. Every time you lost focus, the image would start to blur. You squinted as suddenly the action stopped. You allowed yourself to blink for what felt like the first time in several minutes. When you opened them a snappy one-liner was quipped and then a big ‘The End’ card appeared. Sleep drunk, the room darkened as the only light source scrolled with credits.

“Did…” You own voice sounded foreign. “Did we do it?”

“Every-” Donnie’s speech seemed as affected as yours. You could hear him lick his lips, but it seemed like too much energy to turn and look at him. “Single Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movie has been consumed. Congratulations. You are now caught up.”

“Hurray.” You couldn’t muster any emotion to the word. After his discovery the night of the failed museum trip, Donnie had been hyperfocused on getting you caught up on ‘all the good cinema you had missed.’ He was very lucky in several regards. The first was that it was now summer so your schedule had freed up. The second was you no longer had any summer classes to attend to with your internship on its way and, finally, that said internship did not start until the beginning of the next month. Based on Donnie incessant pestering though, you wouldn’t have lasted more than a week without succumbing to the movie marathon. In fact, you’d made it exactly three days and only had to trade one shift to squeeze the event in.

As if on cue, both of you collapsed back into the couch at the same time. When had you even started leaning forward? With only back support now squared away and lethally low energy in the tank, you body threatened to fall further. You were trying to calculate if you would hit your head on the armrest if you fell to the right when Donnie’s hand shuffled between you to unearth his phone. The simple movement bumped your shoulders and your body gave into the motion. With a soft thump, the side of your head gently plopped right onto his shoulder. You weren’t sure if it was pure exhaustion, but he didn’t seem to notice. From your new view, you could see he was now holding his phone in hand, tilted so both of you could see it. Staring at the dark screen, his thumb seemed to move in slow motion as he activated the device. It read the time and date against a glowing purple motherboard background.

“That’s…” You stared. It took so much effort to speak. “How long…?” You hoped and hoped that he understood.

“31 hours, 32 minutes, and 47 seconds…” He didn’t unlock his phone and you both watched as it went back to sleep.

“I… will never move… again…” You whined softly.

“When…” He trailed off and took a deep breath. “When do you normally go to sleep?”

That seemed like an odd question, but you couldn’t think of what a normal one would even be. “Around 2am?”

“Then we need to stay awake for 27 more minutes.”

“You’re joking!” It was so surprising that it gave you just enough energy to boost your voice.

“No.” You could see his reflection in the darkened phone screen and his face was the definition of neutral. “It’ll keep your sleep schedule on track.”

“How…?” You wanted to ask how you would stay awake, but the rest of the sentence was lost.

“I can’t... explain…” You watched his reflection close its eyes in defeat. You felt bad for mirror Donnie until it sunk in what he had said. You had to try harder, for his sake.

“No…” You shifted your head enough to just bump his. “How will we stay up… that long?”

“Oh.” His reflection’s mouth formed a perfect circle. His thumb moved again and the screen illuminated once more. He unlocked his phone and opened an internet window. It then sat there, static, with only suggested articles at the bottom.

“Donnie?” You wondered and his head flopped over atop yours.

“Thinking.” He responded weekly, his thumb hovering over the screen.

If you had a shred of your mind left, you would have screamed at your current contact. Instead you were left as a husk with no inhibitions. “I don’t think I can… make it home…”

“Sleep here.” If he meant literally right where you were on the couch, that sounded like everything good and perfect in this world. When you’d first arrived at the lair at 5pm the previous day, you’d been blown away by the short tour. His family had dropped in throughout the marathon in stages, but for the last 2 movies only you and Donnie remained.

“You say sleep…” Why were you wasting energy on this? “I say how high.” That didn’t even make sense.

“Dumb.” He responded, finally typing something into the search bar. Your eyes lost focus again. When it returned you were staring at a news feed.

“Nooo…” You whined. That was going to put you more to sleep.

“Don’t complain.” His voice was somehow flatter than usual. “You have 11 minutes and 17 seconds on me.”

“What… are you talking about?” You couldn’t see his reflection anymore in the bright screen.

“You micronapped during Punch Chowder.” He thumbed over the screen, scrolling.

“I did?” You wondered how he knew to the very second how long you were out.

“One fight sequence missed.” Another line of articles floated by.

“Did I miss… a lot?”

He shook his head and you could feel the motion as if he was settling down further into your hair. “We’ll discuss… later.”

“Many movie discuss…” You nodded also. You were really starting to lose touch with reality now that you had nothing to focus on.

“Pick one.”

“An article?” That seemed like so much work.

“16 minutes left.”

Was that an answer to your question? How had both so much and so little time passed?

With the phone balanced on Donnie’s right thigh, you managed to drag your left hand out from where it was squished between both your legs and plop it next to the device. Your index finger wobbled as you pointed at the screen and managed to flick through a few articles. A pretty picture of a starry sky caught your attention. “That one.” You pointed at the photograph while simultaneously opening the article.

“There’s a meteor shower next week…” Donnie paraphrased the headline. He then took back control of the phone and scrolled over the blur of text.

You swore an entirely different Donatello had talked about a planetarium.

“Wanna go?”

“Mm.” It was more of a hum, but it sounded like a confirmation. “Together?”

That was more concrete. “Yeah.”

“Ok.” He gave another nod and you were sure your hair was going to look like a nest. “New telescope…” There was just the tiniest dash of excitement to that. He was too cute. You wished you were more awake so you could enjoy how sleepy he was.

“It’s a date.”

His thumb stopped, but it was also at the end of the article. You watched as he moved to the back button, but hovered over it instead of clicking. Why was he hesitating?

“It’s a date.” He finally spoke after what had seemed like hours had passed.

“Think we’ll remember?” You could barely remember the last thing you said. There was a nagging feeling it was important.

Donnie made another inconspicuous noise and closed the internet browser. He then thumbed over to a calendar that was packed with dozens of multicolored notes. You had no energy to marvel at his efficiencies as he opened up a specific day next week and added a new event.

‘Meteor Shower Date’

You watched him thumb quickly through several reminders, but your eyes refused to focus enough to tell you when they were set. He closed the window and the home screen picture of both of you was marred by a atomic clock.

“Three minutes.”

“Can’t we cheat it?”

“No.” 

You both fell asleep with one minute remaining.

NEXT

A/N: What's the Dream Van you ask? It's a Donatello-themed Hot Wheels Toy I saw! The XGW is technically not a real car, except it is now.

So there’s like 8 Lou Jitsu movies named in Rise and in "Repo Mantis" Donnie says there’s 60 sequels to “Jupiter Jim’s Last Trip to the Moon” alone, but man there’s like only 40 Godzilla movies so… I used the number for when I did my own marathon which was watching every single episode of Ed, Edd, and Eddy in a row to the premiere of Big Picture Show so like… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#crushtoomuchfic #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #cartoons #fanfiction #my fanfiction #me

[s1ckh1mb0]

Jeff the killer x black! Childhood friend! reader

Cw- murder, kidnapping, violence, angsty, very crazy and toxic ex!, one use of y/n

AU where everyone is aware of creepy pastas and stuff like that

How the fuck did you end up here tied up and being dragged to the middle of no where by a bunch of random guys. You just wanted to stay at home and chill but no something always has to go wrong. Everything was eerily silent but you could tell you were outside by the smell. your blind fold was ripped off you groaned the sudden light killing your eyes. But once they finally adjusted you realized who was the one who did this shit to you, the person you hated the most, your ex boyfriend Leo.

You broke up with him cause he always thought he ran shit which wasn’t sliding with you in the slightest. You looked up at him in annoyance, at this point you couldn’t even be scared you were just annoyed. He ripped you makeshift gag off and looked at you like you were just trash. “So you thought that you could just break up my heart and never hear from me again?!”. You scoffed at his ridiculousness, this is why you couldn’t be with him, he’s a crazy little bitch. “Nigga what the fuck are you doing? You fucking kidnapped me cause I dumped and somehow don’t think hmm maybe I got dumped because I DO CRAZY SHIT LIKE THIS!”. The men that helped Leo started to snicker until the heard a gun click.

Meanwhile Jeff was walking around the woods just coming back from killing victims. Honestly he couldn’t wait to get in the mansion he’s been out for around 14 hours straight just for shits and giggles. He was a while away from Slender’s woods but stopped in his tracks when hearing people laugh and then a sudden gun shot. With his knife in his hand he got closer but remained out of sight.

You opened your eyes as you finally took a breath looking around at your body to see if you had been shot. A sigh of relief came from you realizing you were okay and he had done it to scare you. And damn did it work cause you were absolutely terrified. Leo laughed as he looked down at you. “What’s wrong baby aww you scared now?”. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as he got closer to you “Yeah I’m totally scared of a fucking incel, how bout you do me a favor and just kill me already so I don’t have to deal with your whiney ass anymore.”

Jeff couldn’t help but laugh to himself watching your ex get made fun off. Honestly he thought you were right too how could anyone possibly be scared of your exes McLovin looking ass. At this point Jeff was just waiting for you to get killed so he can come in and finish off everyone else. But that was when he seen your face as your turned in disgust. Has he seen you before? Were you one of his victims family members? But once he heard your ex said your name it came to him. You reminded him of his old friend but he doubted it was you.

Your ex sent his boys away to go back to the car and wait for him. Once he did that he basically himself over. Even if it wasn’t “you” like Jeff thought the person looked close enough so your exes death was ultimately inevitable.

You were pulled up to your knees by hair with a gun pointed to your temple. “You got anything left to say bitch?”. You looked up at him deadpanned, no matter how scared you were there was no way you would show this pussy that “Your dick was trash.”. He was taken a back as you closed your eyes about ready to take your fate but he grew angry and right before he pulled the trigger there was a silence then the sound of gurgling. You opened your eyes to see your ex with a knife in his lodged into his throat. You were frozen in fear when suddenly a person landed right in front of you.

Looking up at the person with tears in your eyes the person who “saved” you, who was also currently staring down at you. Surprisingly he helped you up. “Y/n?” Jeff questioned. Your eyes widened, his voice sounded so familiar but you don’t know who this man was and this definitely wasn’t helping how scared you were. He untied you and you backed away into a tree. He was surprisingly gentle with you well not really he just surprised didn’t kill you yet. Instead grabbing your face inspecting it to see if it was actually you.

Once again he said your name but this time you nodded in response. With his free hand he pointed at himself “Jeffrey.. Jeffrey Woods”. You’re eyes widened and tears started flowing down your face “I- I thought you died, but now you’re here and and you’re alive! What happened? You look so… so different.” He pinned you to the tree you were against. It was unreal to him not only are you here with him but you remember him as well. “It’s a lot but that not important. Better yet how are you not repulsed by me?”.

You shook your head “I could care less in just happy you’re alive!”. This shocked him you were true to him and he could tell. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”. You told him and was suddenly lifted up bridal style. He grabbed his knife and off you went. Eventually you got back to your place we’re it didn’t take long for you to pass out from exhaustion. When you woke up you went around looking for him but eventually found a note saying “had to leave, but I’ll be back for you. Ps keep your window open for me.” You couldn’t help but smile reading it to yourself. And there it was the same feelings you had for him when y’all were younger.

I got a bit carried away but I hope y’all liked this😭

#Spotify #fanfic #x character #x reader #x black reader #x black male reader #x male reader #x black plus size reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x male reader #jtk x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x male reader

[sailtomarina]

Don’t tell me it’s over

When they were first paired together for their quarterly project, they begrudgingly accepted, too tired from the war and its fallout to fight what now seemed so pointless, so small in the face of everything else they each managed. Meeting in the Hogwarts Library was a given since they both already treated the books as their own haven away from all the other parts of the castle that haunted them. 

But this was the first time that Malfoy sat at Hermione’s table, the same seat she’d considered her own since her first year. The spot was perfect, situated near the back in a corner that was mostly hidden by tall shelves, but sat along a window overlooking the Black Lake and the forest beyond. He’d always preferred somewhere near the center of the room in the past, one where he could catch the attention of anyone he wished, and spot those less fortunate than him who walked through the doors. He didn’t sit there anymore.

Instead, he sought her out at her place of peace, a pile of books already in hand and a resigned expression on his face as he waited for her invitation to sit. Her only response had been to clear one side of the table before returning to her page to resume where she’d left off.

That was their routine.

Day after day, they met to take notes and share thoughts.

Hermione found in Malfoy a sharp mind and a way of thinking different, but not undesired, from her own. He filled in the gaps of her knowledge and challenged her to consider points from opposing views.

Draco found in Granger what he’d always known deep down to be true: a brilliant outlook on a subject he’d assumed complete superiority, despite all her other achievements. He wanted to learn more about the ways she viewed the rest of their subjects, perhaps even ones outside of academia.

It was only natural that they moved from their project to other courses. Why not finish homework from their shared classes together? A couple of hours a day turned into a handful, the two of them often closing out the library alone.

Then came the day of their presentation. Neither of them had talked about what would happen once they weren’t required to meet anymore. It was as if planning ahead might shatter the fragile peace they’d found.

The next day, Malfoy walked up to their table at the same time as usual, only to find it empty. He felt a hot slip of a knife between his ribs into an organ he’d thought long dead.

He could sit and wait, but doing so reeked of a desperation he couldn’t bear to face just yet.

He could find another table, some hidden spot he’d used before they were forced to work together, before he’d started looking forward to seeing and hearing her each day.

Better yet, he could just say ‘sod it all’ and go back to his room. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t check out books and use his own desk.

His mind made up, he turned and ran straight into her smaller body, knocking the stack of books she’d carried out of her hands and onto the ground.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention to—”

“Granger.”

Her mouth clicked shut at his interruption, and she slowly looked up at him from where she now crouched on the ground.

“What are you doing?”

She cocked her head in puzzlement. “I’m…getting books for our other assignments?” 

She said it as a question, as if it should have been obvious to him why she was here.

“You still want to study with me?” He hated the hesitance in his own voice, the disbelief that reeked of want.

“Isn’t that why you’re here? We still have until the end of the school year—we still have our N.E.W.T.s!”

 The relief that coursed through him was so strong, he couldn’t help but sag against the table behind him, his bag dropping onto the chair beneath.

Gathering the rest of the books back into her arms and standing to place them carefully next to him, she turned to poke him playfully in the ribs, right where he’d sworn he’d just been stabbed earlier.

“Don’t tell me you thought it was over between us.”

She’d touched him before, of course, an innocent passing of quills and parchment, a playful nudge to the shoulder that became more frequent as the weeks passed them by. 

This time, his hand closed over her wrist and held her there.

“I hoped it wasn’t, but feared it might be.”

Her skin was soft beneath his grip, and she stood close enough he could feel her heat through the thin layers between them. Silver eyes met golden-flecked brown. She leaned in close, pressing slightly up on her toes to match his height, and wrapped her free arm in a hug around his neck, allowing the full length of her body to embrace his own.

“We’re in this together now, Draco. You’re stuck with me for a while yet.”

Huffing a relieved laugh, he slid his arms around her waist, returning her hug and accepting everything she had to offer today and every day beyond the four corners of their little table.

WC 890

Twitter prompt from DramionePrompts

#dramione prompt #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

[poursomesunaonme]

hello my sweetest beanie. congrats on your milestone!! i love your event idea so much 💕may i request a sakusa drabble for your event?

he loves to use ‘darling’ as a pet name but also can be so sarcastic about it. which makes me think of him as the king of the meet ugly

i’m thinking “itch” as the lyrics and whatever strikes your fancy with sfw/nsfw. thank you bb 💐

GOD I OVE HIM SO MUCH TY PHON !!

cw: friends to lovers, mention of ushiten hehe, smooch, black jackals cameos

"although i'm oversaturated / know i'm earnest too / and i know i'm eager / but i can't fucking wait for the day that i finally get to kiss you"

“c’mon, c’mon.” tendo’s in the same boat as you, just rooting for the opposite team. you ignore the red-haired man’s pleas, watching intently as kiyoomi swiftly takes position as the ball makes it to the setter. it’s a perfect pass.

the ball flies straight into kiyoomi’s hand, and with a practiced ease, he lands the hit right in between the players in the back line. the entire crowd jumps up to cheer. from the corner of your eye, you see satori slump down as his boyfriend’s team loses, but you can’t console him now, not when your best friend just won one of the biggest games of his life.

you sprint down the stands, careful not to lose your balance in all the excitement. you know that he had to meet with his team first, debrief and all that, but you couldn’t wait to meet him in the spot he said that he would be after the game, win or lose. you fiddle with the hem of your shirt—a copy of his jersey that he told you to please not get because it’s embarrasing, but you did it anyway. that’s what friends are for, after all.

you hear a rowdy crowd from behind the main doors and suddenly, they burst open, revealing the tangerine head and the legendary setter. they scurry off after waving to you, knowing that you’re kiyoomi’s friend. teammate after teammate file out, but no sight of him. you begin to let out a sigh, but your breath stops as soon as he steps out as the last of his team.

his mask just hands barely underneath his nose when his eyes flit around the scene, landing on you. the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile that’s conveniently hidden behind his mask as he walks over to you. his pace is slow, and you quickly close the distance by sprinting up to him and nearly jumping on him to give him a massive hug.

“congrats!” you all but shriek into his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i’m… i’m so proud of you.”

the tops of his cheeks redden from above his mask as his eyes flicker away when he grumbles a thank you, but wraps his arms around your waist. the hug is brief, as he doesn’t enjoy too much physicality with anyone, but his hands stay on your hips when you pull back, knowing his boundaries. he looks down at you, then pulls his mask off his ear to reveal a small, proud smile.

“thank you,” he says a little louder, the adrenaline of the game still pumping through him too much for him to keep up a stoic appearance. “thanks for being here.”

“i don’t think satori would’ve let me miss the game,” you breathe, your hands still around his neck. you don’t want to let go, even if he’s sweaty. “but i wouldn’t have missed it for-”

you’re effectively interrupted by his lips crashing into yours. you make a small sound against him, but dont draw away. instead, your grips tighten on each other. everything else melts away, even his teammates turning around to see his the way your jaw hangs open to let his tongue explore your mouth.

“damn, oomi!” atsumu calls before shoyo shoves him out of the door. you pull away from each other as that, kiyoomi’s eyes shining as he looks down on you.

“let’s… let’s get dinner tonight, yeah, sweetheart?”

submissions for the promised event are now closed but you can still click here to go to the nav page

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #🍀beanie's events #promised event

[stayandot8]

For Your Eyes Only

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: Hiiiiiiiii I'm back! I've been so stuck with real life things that I haven't really been writing anything but my series and then I saw this in my ideas an it kinda just all hit me at once so I just wrote it down and now it's yours. I hope you haven't missed me too much ;) Hopefully part 3 of JOY will be done soon and I can give it to you, I'm dying to get it done and post it so you can see where I want to take it. But anyways, here's this one. I hope you like it. ♥

WC: 1.2k

masterlist

“No, everything’s fine. It’s fine.” He would start with himself every few minutes, repeating those same words over and over until he would fall silent again. The screen on my phone had long since blackened out, lucky for my boyfriend that my phone had been charging all night for exactly this occasion. He was always working while he was away, the occasional clicking of his keyboard the only sign of life on the other side of the static. He never took a break, never sat still long enough unless he was required to.

“Chris, didn’t you just get off stage?” My voice was groggy, being the middle of the night in my time zone starting to weigh on my eyelids more and more the longer we talked. The silk of my own sheets had grown foreign, unfamiliar compared to the worn, cotton sheets of Chan’s bed. I practically lived over there now, half his dresser drawers had my things in them. His shared bathroom had four drawers next to the sink, which now held Chan’s hairbrush and my collection of face masks that he liked to do with me. My toothbrush was kept in a travel case tucked in with a small hairbrush of my own, kept safely away from Chan’s serums and vitamins he needed to keep himself healthy. 

“You know the only reason I ever slow down is because you force me to. I don’t feel like I can  unless I’m being told to by a very pretty girl who threatens to sit on me unless I step away from my computer. Not that I would mind that…” His voice trails off, his lingering suggestiveness sending shivers straight down my back. 

“Well, unfortunately I’m not there to threaten you to sleep. I’m stuck behind this device that lets me talk to you when you’re so far from me.” I tucked my blanket even further under my chin, itching for the comfort of his warmth while settling for the empty space. 

“Yes, how dare you be so far from me.” Hearing his smile through his words was the only way I knew he was okay. With all his work piling up all the time, it was the little things I had to look for as signals. 

“Why are you working right now if you just got off stage though, baby? Come lay down with me.” 

“What were you saying before? Why were you saying everything’s fine?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before, you kept saying everything’s fine, that it was okay.”

“Oh, did I? I didn’t even notice. Don’t worry about it, it’s…”

“FIne?”

A pause. “Yeah.” He sighed, deflating. 

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Talk to me?” A longer pause.

“I just don’t want to dump it all on you. It’s my weight to carry, not yours.”

“You might think that but that’s not how I feel. That’s what a partnership is. Your bullshit is my bullshit, so to speak. And my bullshit is your bullshit. Do you feel like I’m dumping on you when I tell you what’s happening at work?”

“No, not at all. I love when you tell me that stuff.”

“Exactly. So lay it all on me. Let me carry some of your bullshit. Or else you’ll be crushed by the weight of it. Please? I want to hear it. It helps me feel close to you when I can’t be right there with you all the time. I want it all, I want the good stuff and the bad stuff. Show me everything. Every bad thought, everything you couldn’t and can’t show anyone else. That’s what I'm here for.”

This silence was different, like he was collecting his thoughts to finally let them tumble out. 

“It’s just hard, ya know? Sometimes it feels like it’s all on me. Like our success depends just on me. And I know it doesn’t, but sometimes it feels like that.” And on and on he went, telling me about the depth of the weight on his shoulders, how his relationships have been suffering because of it. His parents always tell him how proud they are, but it never quite feels the same. 

“I miss them, so much it hurts me when they call. But I barely have time to talk because of the amount of work piling up. The public decisions that need to be made, the tracks that still need to be done, things it feels like only I can do so it’s only on me.”

“You haven’t told any of them this, have you.” It wasn’t a question, really. I knew he wouldn’t because-

“No, I don’t want them to have to worry about this stuff.” There it is.

“Baby, you can’t keep all of this to yourself though. They’re grown adults, they can handle it. You have to trust them enough to know that. They’ve asked, haven’t they? I know they have. Let them carry some of the load. It may have started as your group, you may have put it together but it’s all of yours now. It’s time to share the responsibility, Chris. It’s okay. You’re allowed to lighten your load, even if it’s bit by bit.” 

He took a deep inhale and let it out. “If I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you.”

“It’s where you belong.”

“You’re like the other half of me that got taken and then just put into another person. I'm only at this comfort level with you." I heard the sheets rustle as he finally laid down. I smiled at that thought.

“I’m missing half of me when we’re apart.” 

“And it makes me sad, my love.”

“Just get through this next month and then we’ll take a week off and go anywhere you want, just the two of us.” It was a nice idea, knowing he would agree then it wouldn’t happen because he would get bored and start working again anyways. But I could dream.

“Yeah, I’d like to explore around here some more if I could. Take pictures of everything I would want to show you and send them to you. You’d love it here.”

“Where are you guys again?”

“Jakarta.”

‘Well, if you do get a day off there, find something you can bring home. Add it to my ever-growing collection.” I glanced over at my own dresser, filled with trinkets of things he would bring back for me from every place he went for work. Little figurines, patches of beautiful cloth, necklaces and chains with pendants attached all scattered the top. I had made a new open spot for whatever he would bring me this time, not knowing how big or long of a space it would need. 

“I’ve already got it for you. I think you’re really going to love it.” His voice was getting deeper now, his words becoming slower as they reached my ears. 

“Oh yeah? Are you going to tell me anything else or do I have to guess?”

“I’m not telling you anything, you’re just going to have to be patient.” The smirk was palpable through the speaker of my phone. I shook my head as much as I could with my cheek flat against my pillow. 

“You’re so rude.”

“I miss you too.”

#stray kids #bang chan #chan skz #skz #skz bang chan #chan stray kids #chan x you #chan x reader #christopher bang #stray kids chris #skz boyfriend #chris bang #bang chan boyfriend #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan drabbles #chan fluff #chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids bang chan #skz scen #skz drabbles #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz x you #skz x reader

[meetmyothersouls]

👻 The Serial Killers Favorite (ps. I love your work and I'm so happy you're writing again❤️)

Lots of requests for this! So this should cover them all unless I come up with a new one! So happy you’re enjoying the content, babe ❤️

We Don’t Spit, We Swallow.

Warnings: murder/serial killer, being tied up/held captive, abduction, blood, smut (straight filth), oral

You could taste the metallic tang of blood before you opened your eyes. 

When you did open them, you wished you’d kept the closed. 

Your wrists stung as you attempted to pry them apart from behind your back, but the pole you were tied to was too thick to accomplish anything. 

“Oh, you’re up,” a man’s voice you didn’t recognize sounded. 

You said nothing, wincing as you turned your head too fast toward the voice. 

“Careful, you hit your head pretty good on the way down here.” 

You couldn’t remember that. 

You couldn’t remember...anything.

The man took steps toward you, crouching once he was close enough to touch you. You turned your head to the side. You didn’t want to see him; you didn’t want him to touch you.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I won’t hurt you.” 

Kitten?

“Who are you?” You finally said, your voice cracking, partly from fear the rest from a burning in your throat that made speaking hurt like hell. Were you screaming on the way down there?

His fingers grasped your chin, turning your head to face him. Your eyes were slightly blurry, but you could see his features. Dark, curly hair and a sharp jaw line. A pair of dark eyebrows sat just above his piercing green eyes. He was skinny and much tall; even crouched down in front of you he towered over you. Normally, you’d find a creature this genetically blessed mesmerizing. But you were tied to a pole, and he was looking at you with a maniacal sort of twinkle in his eye that made any ounce of want for him disappear. 

“Darling,” he said. 

What was with the fucking pet names?

“I can’t tell you that.” His knees popped as he stood back up and walked around you. 

“Why?

His shoes clicked as he came back around as he stalked his prey and faced you again. 

“Because then you’ll tell everyone I killed all of your friends.” 

He said it simply, like it was as common an occurrence as checking the mail. 

Your eyes widened, and you were certain you could feel your own pupils dilate. 

“Oh,” he said, putting a hand in front of his mouth, feigning shock. “You don’t remember do you?”

“Let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything, I swear. Let me go, please.” 

He rushed over to you, crouching again. 

“Shhh, don’t worry.” 

You started jerking against the pole, trying to push your hands through the rope that kept them bound together. You cried out as the skin began to peel away, exposing more raw, bloody flesh. 

“Easy, easy, love.” 

“Stop calling me names!” You said, spitting in his face. 

You were still as it landed on him. Right above that oddly perfect eyebrow. He let it drip down his face, and when it neared his lips, his let his tongue slip out, swiping your spit into his mouth.

“Mmm, you’re lucky you’re my favorite,” he growled. 

You cringed. You didn’t want to be his favorite. 

“But even favorites have to be punished.”

Your heart sank into your stomach when you heard his words. You didn’t know what he was going to do or what he was capable of doing, but he killed your friends and had you captive. Anything else that happened couldn’t be good. 

“We’re gonna have to fill that mouth of yours,” he said. 

You watched as his hands made his way down to his belt. He fumbled with it for a few seconds before pulling his zipper down with a sharp zip. 

How do you get out of this?

Better yet, how do you get out of this alive. 

You couldn’t run. 

You couldn’t even move.

So, you’d have to pretend. 

He pulled out his cock, stroking it delicately as he stepped toward you. 

“Gonna teach you a lesson. Open up.” 

Everything in you wanted to fight, to jerk your head to the side. But that wasn’t the way out of this. 

You obeyed him. Opening your mouth, your tongue hung out slightly. A perfect, pillowy platform for him to slide his dick against. 

“So obedient,” he said as he smacked your tongue with the tip of his cock. “I’m gonna teach you how to behave.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to prepare as he slammed his cock all the way into your mouth. You gagged immediately. 

“Mmm, I like that sound.”  He slid out slowly. You could feel every vein that popped out of the silky skin of his cock. Your eyes watered as he slid back in as slow as he came out. He touched the back of your throat, and the salty taste of precum slid down your throat. Your mouth hung open, as he fucked it. Spit and drool mixed with tears hung from your chin. Your throat made rhythmic gurgling sounds as he continued. 

He moaned as he pressed his palms against the same pole you were tied to, thrusting his hips back and forth. 

You had to make this count. You had to make this so good for him that he’d let you go. 

As he fucked your mouth, you bobbed your head, meeting each of his thrusts. It was hard with your hands tied behind your back. You’d normally grasp a man’s legs as you sucked him off. As he pulled out of your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him so hard, his pull out was slower, strained. It was like sucking a thick milkshake through a straw. 

Only better. 

You suddenly had the overwhelming urge to make him cum. 

And he was holding back. Making it last as long as possible. 

You gagged and moaned on his cock, sucking him like your life depended on it. 

It did. 

His beat his fist into the pole. He was close to his release; you could tell by the tight muscles in his thigh. 

You wanted to touch yourself, but you couldn’t. 

It was torture. 

His cock twitched in your mouth. He slid in and out twice more as he unloaded himself into your mouth. 

When he was empty, he slid out, immediately grabbing your chin, keeping it locked shut. 

“There’s your first lesson, kitten. We don’t spit, we swallow.

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @gatoenlaciudad @patronsaintofthetwinks

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #smut #dark!timothee #serial!killer Timothee #Halloween special

[twoheartshookingup]

Day Two: formal wear with Deacon Kay

This post is 18+, containing sexual themes. Please do not interact if you are under eighteen. Kinktober masterlist.

“David?” You called out into the quiet room, heels clicking on the wood floor. This was the very last thing you’d wanted to do, dressed in finery for some LAPD event that would be filled with everyone. But it was what you’d signed up for with the slim ring on your finger, so the maroon cocktail dress went on.

“I’m ready, I’m rea…you look amazing.” He was in his jet black dress uniform, white gloves on his hands. But your fiancé’s gaze was trained straight on you and your outfit.

“You scrub up well yourself. Ready?”

He held his arm out for you to take as the two of you left the house.

It was, as you’d expected, extremely boring in the event. There were speeches and toasts, meeting Nichelle and Bonnie’s faces with the bored glances you shared. Having others there made it a little easier, at least.

But finally it was onto the drinking and dancing portion of the evening, the much more fun time. The three partners who weren’t in LAPD were bored by everything, but Deacon took your hand to lead you onto the quickly filling floor.

“Having fun, Sergeant?” You asked, an amused smile as you watched him look down at you.

“I mean I have the perfect view, so definitely.” You followed his eyes down and realised that he was perfectly able to see down your tits, the lacy red cups of the basque you were wearing.

“Cheeky!” It was a light admonishment, but his hand tightened against your back.

“I just like looking at my boobs. I mean you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“You know I am, Sergeant.”

But he gave you an idea that you couldn’t wait to see how he’d react, so once he went to the bar you returned to the 20 squad table, sitting beside Street.

“You’ll dance with me, won’t you?” You turned to look at him, Chris raising an eyebrow. “Chris doesn’t want to dance, she doesn’t want people to make comments about her leaving LAPD. So you’ll dance with me, right?”

You stood and let him take your arm, Street’s hand in the small of your back as he spun you around. But when you were back at the table you could see the tic on your fiancés face that showed your plan to make him jealous had worked.

The Uber home was quiet, hand in hand until he helped you out of the car and into the house. But once you were in things changed. Deacon pushed you against the wall, palming one breast as his other hand rested at the column of your throat.

“Enjoy making me jealous tonight?” You shook your head, but his fingers tightened so slightly against you, making you swallow. “I know that’s what you were doing with Street. But you’re my good slut, aren’t you?”

It was to the bedroom, Deacon pulling you along as you kicked off your shoes, one of his hands in your hair. You were pushed to the bed, your ass pulled back so you were on hands and knees.

“You don’t get to cum tonight. This is to show you how much better I can fuck you instead of anyone else. I know how you need this.”

Your skirt was pulled up and you heard before you felt your underwear being ripped away.

“Hey! They were-“ your words were cut off by a rush of air as a slap hit your ass, a groan of pleasure following as Deacon massaged the now warm skin.

“I’ll get a new pair. You’d ruined them anyway, I can smell you from here. I just need to taste you.”

You thought he was half joking, but his lips and tongue split your lower lips, a long stripe up your slit making you buck, but a hand on your lower back kept you still.

The sensations were so much, his fingers entering and fucking you as his lips sucked on your clit. It was every sensation that you loved and your moans kept getting louder.

“Deacon. Please. Please!” You begged, but instead of giving you what you craved he stopped, leaving a kiss on your clit before stepping back.

You wanted to look behind you but you knew that was going to be the wrong move. Your tits were falling out of your dress, the previously pristine fabric bunched around your middle. The only thing left mostly on was the basque and you knew that was coming off soon. Before the thought of what was next came, there was a sudden intrusion and Deacon pushed into you to fill you totally. Your lover put one hand on your throat to pull you up, your back against his chest as the other hand began to pinch and pull at a nipple.

“So fuckin’ good for me. So good. I can feel just how much you need this isn’t that right?”

“It’s only you. I need you. Please. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours. Always yours.”

He pulled you tighter to him and you could feel the cool metal of his cross necklace against your shoulder blades as he thrust into you harder and harder. The pleasure was overwhelming, and he knew so well just how to get you to the edge but not over. Once he set that decision that you couldn’t cum it wouldn’t be overturned and he could play your body so well.

“Gonna fill you up. Make you forget everyone else, I’m the only person you’ll ever want. Just us.”

His thrusts stuttered against you, pushing you against the bed as his arms caged you in. It didn’t take more than a few moments for him to roll off you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured as you clung to his shoulders.

“I love you too.”

You both needed to change and clean up, but instead you stayed there, fabric bunched on your abdomen as the two of you held tightly together.

#deacon kay x y/n #deacon kay x you #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay smut #kinktober 2022

[garfaia]

You're okay, you're okay...

Eddie Munson x Reader ᓚᘏᗢ The group goes looking for your boyfriend Eddie. When you find him, he’s in desperate need of comfort.

“EDDIE ARE YOU THERE?!” Dustin yelled, ringing the doorbell over and over. You sighed, partially out of annoyance for your younger brother but also out of worry. 

After what had happened to Chrissy in Eddie’s trailer, everyone was out for his head, thinking he killed her. But you and your friends knew better. After everything that has happened in Hawkins, this was almost expected. The town seems to never be able to catch a break.

As soon as you saw the news about Chrissy’s death, you immediately got the group together to go look for him. You were worried out of your mind. The whole town was looking for Eddie, and you were determined to find him before anyone else did.

“Dustin, I don’t think he’s here,” you said wringing your hands nervously. You felt your stomach drop thinking about how he might feel. 

Watching someone get crushed right in front of him. You shivered. You had to find him, you had to. 

“Hey, guys…” you turned your head towards Max as she spoke. She stood on the edge of the patio, looking behind the corner of the house. You quickly made your way over to her to see what she found.

When you rounded the corner, you see a big shed. You feel the sliver of hope you had left grow bigger. The lights were on, he had to be there. 

You began walking. Desperate. Please be here, you thought. Please.

You reached your hand out to open the door but were stopped by Steve. “Let me go first,” he said “we don’t know if it's safe” you couldn’t help but feel offended. 

“He’s, my boyfriend. It’s safe” you said reaching out and pulling the door open. You were hit with the smell of dirt and mold as soon as you walked into the room.

There’s a boat laying in the middle of the room, with multiple boxes of stuff spread around. It was cluttered. You continued walking more into the room. Everyone else followed you.

“Eddie?” you tried. No answer. You began walking around looking for him. The others joined you. 

“What are you doing?” you heard Dusti ask. You turned around to see Steve poking the tarp-covered boat with an oar. 

“He might be in here” Steve defended and continued poking the boat. You sighed. “So take the tarp off,” you said.

“If you’re so brave, take the tarp off” you continued, folding your arms over your chest. Steve looked at you and rolled his eyes. 

“Hey, look over here,” Max said. You turned towards her and walked over. She was looking down at a table with a few candy wrappers and open beers. He had been here. “Someone was here,” Max said looking at the trash with her flashlight. 

“Maybe he heard us.” Robin said, “got spooked and ran” she joked. You looked at her. She shrugged and you sighed once more. “Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar” Dustin joked. You smiled at him.

He always knew that when you were worried, he could always crack a joke to calm you down. Even if it was just a little, it still worked. 

“I know you think you’re being funny,” Steve started, still poking the tarp with the oar. “But considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-” 

He gets interrupted by someone flying up from under the tarp and pushing him towards the wall. It’s Eddie.

Everyone screams. Steve screams a string of waits, while Dustin and you yell at Eddie to stop. 

“Eddie! It’s us!” you yell with your hands out to show u don’t mean any harm. Eddie looks away from Steve and over to you. 

He has a frantic look in his eyes. He’s terrified. Your heart breaks. He has been through something incredibly traumatic, and he’s just scared. 

Eddie looks straight into your eyes, and you see something click inside him. He drops the broken glass bottle he held in his hands and steps away from Steve. He never takes his eyes away from you. 

You quickly make your way over to him and wrap your hands around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his head into your shoulder. You put one of your hands on the back of his head and hold him even closer. 

He holds onto you like you’re a breath of fresh air. You’ve never been so happy to be able to just hold him. 

“You’re okay,” you say into his hair, “you’re okay”. You pet his hair as you just hold him. Neither of you wanting to let go. And that’s okay. You don’t need to. Nothing is ever going to separate you and Eddie again, you promise.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie muson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson

[sifinspace]

Sif sat down at her computer and clicked refresh on her email. Nothing. They had gotten back from Tiptree a week ago, and they still hadn’t be contacted about being reassigned.

She was starting to lose hope. Sif got up and walked to the small kitchenette they had. She turned the kettle on and boiled some water for tea. She looked out the window of their tiny alliance regulated apartment.

The shimmering colors of the citadel and the bright lights of the portmade it hard to know if it was day or night. She let out a sigh and rubbed side. The scar still hurt from the operation, but she’d never tell anyone that. What hurt more was her inability to move forward. She hated waiting, and she felt like she had done her time.

Sif loved the year she spent landed. She appreciated getting to spend it with Joker, there was no one else she’d rather be with, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she could be used somewhere, out in space, to further Shepards work.

Her mind whistled, and she realized it was the kettle boiling. As she poured herself a cup, Joker walked in the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She smiled.

“Question, if I had a chance to be enhanced, would you want me to take it?” He asked.

“Your boobs are the perfect size for me.” She grinned.

He smiled at her, “I’m perfect obviously, but I mean, my bones. Vrolijks is a bitch, and I just had given time a chance to help it.”

Sif cocked her head to the side. “Fill me in.”

He sat down at the table.

“Okay, so I had been contacted yesterday but some weird net mail, asking if I’d be interested in helping my condition. I said yes, and they replied with asking me to meet them in person.” He started.

“Ok mystery emails … meet ups, yea not sketchy Jeff. Do you still have two kidneys?” She said skeptically.

“I know, ones for you. So yes, I’ve got two. Anyway, I met up with this woman, her names Miranda, she said she works with a group who specialize in human biotics and anatomy, they heard about us through all the hype after the Normandy exploded but had to wait to find me, because of our jobs with the alliance.”

“Alright and, what do they want in return?”

“Miranda said they want a pilot.”

“Oh.”

“She said they’d help make me stronger, and set my bones straight, if I’d be willing to fly for them.”

Sifs mind raced. He was going to leave her alone. She always got left alone. “When do you start?”

“Tomorrow, but there’s a catch.”

“Which is?”

“It’s Cerberus.” He said flatly.

“I don’t care who it is, if you get to fly, you get to fly.” She sipped her tea, trying to hold back her interior doomed feelings.

“Huh you took that better than I expected. “

“I want you to be happy, like always. If it’s flying with solid bones, who wouldn’t turn that down?” She forced a smile.

“Yea see that’s not actually the catch. I was just seeing what you’d say first.”

Sif looked at him with a twisted expression.

“You. You’re my catch. Miranda knows all about you too. She asked how you’d feel joining. She said she had read our alliance files, and she wants both of us to fly. We have the best records she’d ever seen.”

Sif grinned. “You jackass. You had me worried.”

Joker got up and stood next to her. “Nah, we are a package deal. Literally everyone knows that. Now stand up, and hug me.”

Sif got to her feet and wrapped her arms gently around her friend. “Thank you.” She whispered in his ear.

“I’d never leave you behind, I made a promise.” He whispered back.

After their moment of embrace, Joker looked at Sif. “Start packing.” He said.

———

Sif didn’t have a lot to take with her, when the Normandy exploded her life was on that ship. The only thing she had was the note Kaiden left her, and a few other bits and bobs she had stowed away in an onshore Alliance locker.

Since she’d been grounded she had picked up a few things, but the one thing she clung dearly too was the necklace Jeff had given her before graduation. She figured Cerberus wasn’t Alliance, so she’d wear it under her new uniform.

Sif folded her blankets and clothes. Each price felt like a story. Between the two of them, they didn’t have a lot of things, then Joker came into the bedroom.

“Hey, so I was thinking. My parents gave me something that’s pretty special, and I mean if I have to admit it, you’re the most special thing I have, and Cerberus is gonna have a lot of beefy men looking for woman, and from passed experience men seem to think you’re really attractive, so I want to give you this.

He pulled out the little green velvet box and opened it.

“My mom gave me her rings before we left in case we ever want to really make that married joke land, and if you want, your more than welcome to take one of them to wear when the creeps come calling.” He said with a bit of an eager tone.

Sif was dumbfounded. She didn’t know he had gotten these tokens.

“Jeff I couldn’t do that, these are for your future someone.” She smiled.

“Well, you’re my now person, and I want you to feel safe when we start up with a new crew. So take the band, and wear it in the opposite hand. If some guys being weird, slip it on your ring finger, I’ll always back you up.” He took her hand, and slid the fine band onto her right ring finger.

“It actually fits.” She said surprised.

He would never tell her he had secretly measured her finger one night as she slept.

Sif looked down at the ring. It was simple and engraved with the thinnest of drempel head. The band looked like it had a vine on it.

“Thank you Jeff, I appreciate this. I’ll give it back to you when you need it.” She smiled.

“You got it.” He grinned as he left.

———

Sif and Joker had been with Cerberus for 4 months, in that time, they were able to pull him together enough, that he was strong enough o actually fire a weapon.

“I never thought in my entire life I’d be able to shoot a gun, not that it was the first thing I wanted to do, but the fact I can do it, is so cool!” He said as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“I’m glad - at least now when you trip and fall you wont break so easily.” Sif grinned.

“It only happened twice, besides, now I can actually dance with you when you ask.” He smiled.

Sif always loved to dance, she’d go out during flight school to the clubs and enjoy a good band now and then. Even when the pair was living on the citadel between flights, Joker would take her out to the club to dance.

“So, when are you going to make good on that promise?” Sif asked.

“Whenever!” He sat in his seat and swung his hips.

“Excellent, I’ll see what’s going on tonight.” Sif got up and walked to the cafeterias tray disposal. Since living on the Cerberus base, they’d been treated more than well by all.

She wasn’t exactly sure who was in charge, but it didn’t matter. They were getting fed, paid, and fixed up. They even went in and adjusted her L2 chip to update her software.

Miranda was still her main contact on the base, she was her go to for anything they needed. It wan’t much, sometimes it was just some extra bedding, or permission to leave to pick up drinks.

Sif liked Miranda, she was straight forward, good at anything she did, and was willing to deal with Jeff when he was a complete asshole throughout his whole medical upgrade. She wasn’t sure exactly what her main job for Cerberus was, but she figured she shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Joker had taken time to heal from his procedures, and the entire time, Sif was right next to him, being his carer. He would never be one hundred percent fixed, but the upgrades he had, made him into a whole new man. His limp, and his pervious injuries still existed, but he was able to accomplish more than ever before. The one thing Sif was great full for, was his confidence. He seemed to have bloomed over night.

As they lived on base, they continued to upgrade their flying, and prove to Cerberus that they were the still best pilots in the galaxy. No one denied that claim. They knew what they had done. Sif had even been given the opportunity to become Pilot but declined, stating that that was one thing she couldn’t take away form Jeff.

Miranda liked Sif’s ability to show herself as a equal but take a lesser position. She spoke to Sif often about Jeffs progress and about what happened aboard the Normandy. Sif figured she wasn’t bound to not speak of the explosion, and she did so openly. Miranda was sympathetic, and even helped Sif get proper treatment for any PTSD she was suffering, more so than the alliance ever tried.

Sif was great full, with the trauma the two of them experienced, it was nice to have a crew that seemed to genuinely care about them for once. She thought about Shepard often, and still missed his kind and gentle way about him.

She never forgot Kaiden either, parts of her still ached for one more touch of her lost LT.

_____

“You know what would be amazing? If with all this tech, they could rebuild me even more.” Joker said laying on his side of the bed.

“I thought you were perfect before, but to improve on that, would be a waste.” She replied.

“Come on, this man now, he’s impressive.” He said flexing his arm.

“You know, you could prove it to me.”

“Oh?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

Sif got up and walked to the cabin control. She picked out a song that was soft and rhythmic.

“Come on, dance with me, prove to me you’re an all new man.” She grinned.

Joker got to his feet and walked up to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and grabbed her hand.

“Watch me.” He said.

Joker lead Sif around the cabin suite gently, and effortlessly. His swayed her to the music, and kept their feet in beat with the temp. When the song sped up, so did his moves. When the song slowed, he pulled her closer to him, breathing her scent into him. When the song ended, he dipped her and spun her around.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“That was amazing.” She blushed.

“I knew you’d think so, go take a cold shower.” He mocked and laid down again.

Sif just grinned. She laid down on her side of the bed.

“So … when do you think they’ll get us a ship to fly? They cleared you didn’t they?” She asked.

“Yea, two days ago. I was hoping to hear soon.”

“Well until then, I’m going to take advantage of being grounded. I like this place, seems cozy.” She smiled.

————-

The next morning, Sif and Joker were greeted by a voice coming out of their cabin speaker.

“Good morning - we have arranged for you two to be relocated to a new ship, where you will pilot it into space.” The voice sounded rough and deep. Like a smoker who had been doing so for years. “We have assigned you to the SR-2, Jacob Taylor will be by shortly to help you move your things. Good luck.”

Sif looked and Joker. His eyes were beaming. They were finally going to fly again, they had waited for so long for this.

Soon enough, Jacob was at their door. They had met before, and spend a few nights playing poker together. He seemed a decent man, and had only hit on Sif twice. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but Jeff had whispered into his ear something, and the flirtations stopped immediately.

As they approached the SR-2, their eyes grew wide. It looked exactly like the Normandy.

“Wow.” Sif’s lips slipped out.

“She’s a replica, a better replica, if you can call this that. We even interrogated a better cabin for you two, as well as the new Commander of the ship.” Jacob told them.

“Who’s the new Commander?” Sif asked.

“I’ll let Miranda fill you in, I’m just the welcoming crew. Feel free to o roam about the ship, and get used to what it has to offer.” He said.

As they boarded, the ship felt oddly familiar. It had somewhat of the same layout, but was missing the people. Jacob walked the pair to a large cabin door.

“This is yours, we made it with the paid of you in mind.” He said as it opened.

Sif’s eyes grew large as she saw the size of the cabin. It had a king bed, and two recliners. As well as its own bathroom that had more than 2 feet of space. They had port holes that looked out onto into the galaxy and a tv on the wall across from the bed.

“This is, amazing.” Joker said.

“It’s an upgrade from the Normandy’s cabin you had, but we tried to keep it homey for you two.” He smiled. “We have even included a wall desk that can pop out for anything you may need it for, and a bookcase/tv shelf combo so you can store your movies here. Mini fridge, with built in ice machine. That was my ask for you.”

“That’s too kind.” Sif smiled.

“I know you like your drinks cold - so I figured what more could I ask?” Jacob grinned at her.

“This is absolutely mind blowing. Thank you so much.” Sif said.

“No problem, Cerberus wants its pilots treated how they should be. After all, without you two, how would we even take off? Miranda will be by in a bit to debrief you. Until then, just sit still, and after you speak with her, you can roam the ship.” Jacob walked to the door and left.

Sif put down her duffels and looked at Joker.

“Can you believe this?” She asked.

“Not at all, i didn’t expect this. I knew we’d get a cabin, but not one that was this amazing. If the Alliance could see us now.” He grinned.

They unpacked their belongings and hung their Cerberus uniforms in their closet. Inside had two robes waiting for them, almost as if they were welcome gifts to the ship.

Joker checked out the Tv stand, and Sif made her way to the bathroom to examine the lighting.

“There’s actual storage in here, I can do my face finally.” She grinned.

“Thank goodness, it was scaring me.” He winked.

Sif walked back and laid on the bed, it was the most comfortable bed she’d ever laid on. She felt like she was being hugged by a cloud.

Joker sat in the chair and reclined. “Yep, this is the life.” He stretched his arms behind his head and tipped down his hat. “Wake me when Miranda gets here.”

Sif and Joker laid in their places and closed their eyes. The quiet hum of the SR-2 made them feel right at home. Within the hour, Miranda had come to their cabin.

“So, we wanted to let you know something that’s going to be happening, and we needed to tell you, for you to prepare yourselves.” She started.

“What?” Joker asked.

“Well, we know you two were the last ones to have anything to do with Shepard. So it would only make sense, that you two are the first to see him once again.”

Sif and Joker exchanged glances at each other.

“I am head of what is called the Lazarus project. I’ve been working on it for some time. We needed Shepard back, he was the only one who could save humanity, so with the help of a very wealthy benefactor, we are bringing him back. He will be the Commander once again.”

They looked shocked. “So you can just bring people back to life?” Sif asked.

“No, not like you think we can. This is a special project. It’s taken a considerable amount of resources. If we can accomplish this however, we can do anything.” Miranda said.

“Does he have his memories?” Joker asked.

“I’m not at that stage in his development yet, soon, he’s going to be resuscitated soon. Then we will know how successful this project actually was, and if it really was worth it.”

“I mean, you can fix a broken pilot, I’m … I never thought that you could rebuild someone from scratch.” Sif said.

“It takes a lot of science, but things are looking promising. We wanted you to be aware of what was going on, in case anyone else happened to mention it first. Cerberus is trying to give you the most transparency as possible. We know it’s a shock, so until he’s ready, you’re only job is to become aquatinted with the ship, and comfortable. Speaking of which. EDI?”

“Yes Ms Lawson.” A sound came from the corner of the room. A holographic beam of light appeared.

“This is EDI.- she’s the ship artificial intelligence, she will serve as your guide and help while you pilot this ship.”

“AI? Great. The ship has a mind of ti’s own, why do you need us?” Joker said visibly upset.

“AI is a tool, there is no better use than a human to fly a machine that requires skill.” EDI responded.

“EDI is there to help with calculations - and voice commands, she is not here to fly the ship.” Miranda reassured.

“As long as it doesn’t get in the way.” He said.

“That is never my intention Mr. Moreau.” EDI responded.

“Fine by me, I like having someone to gang up against Jeff with.” Sif grinned.

“I will do my best Sif.” EDI said as if with a smile.

“Good, so make yourselves comfortable, we will let you know when we are ready to fly.” Miranda said as she turned to leave the cabin.

______

Sif and Jeff and walked toured the ship numerous times to really get the feel for it. There were rooms where rooms hadn’t been before, and cabins and beds where on the Normandy was only empty space.

The pair made their way down to med bay, and were greeted by the most welcoming of faces. Dr. Chakwas was there, with opened arms and warm hugs. She was so elated to see them both again. She had been helping with Jeff’s recovery as well form his surgeries, but they didn’t realize he’d be assigned to the SR-2. This was the most welcome of surprises for them.

After that, they headed to the Command Room, and saw their new helm.

It was gleaming.

Joker sat in his chair and swiveled around a few times.

“This is luxury.” He said stretching out.

Sif caressed the console lovingly. Like holding a dear one’s chin in her hand. It was familiar, yet completely new.

“Did you even register what Miranda said?” She asked him.

Joker paused in thought, “the Shepard thing?”

She nodded.

“Yea I’m not surprised.” He said coolly. “He always makes it out alive.”

Sif didn’t like the attitude. “Jeff, we just spent the last two years working through his death and this is how you treat him coming back?”

“Sif what do you want me to say? I’m elated? I’m thrilled? I’m the one that has to tell him I’m sorry for getting him dead in the first place. It’s not a fun thing to have to do you know.”

Memories flooded back to her of their lady year in therapy, the pain, the anger.

“Sorry, I’m just in shock. He was, he is family. The closest thing we had to normality. I can’t believe the shit I’ve had to go through is all going to be for nothing.” She groaned falling in her chair.

“For nothing?”

“I - if I didn’t have to cope with losing him that would have been half the battle. If I didn’t have to cope with you losing him, I could have done it.” She sighed. “I want him back. I can’t wait to see him.”

“I really hope he remembers everything.” Joker smiled at her.

“Same, he gave me one hell of a hug. I could use that again.”

Joker stood up and walked to Sif.

“What are you doing?” She asked him as he made his way over.

“Stand up.”

She got to her feet.

Joker slid his arms around her waist and pulled her in closely to him. It wasn’t a normal hug, it was something deeper.

Sid hurried her face in his neck. His beard ticketed her cheek, but she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him. He wasn’t ever the hugger type, but this one felt more connected than one ever had. He made her feel wanted, loved, safe.

Joker worked his hands up and down her back, comforting her in a way she had never experienced before. He held on for longer than usual too, and when he did back away, she could swear he was grinning. She didn’t want to let go, she loved the way his body felt next to hers.

“I’m terrified he’s coming back, but I’m also happy. I want to thank him for saving our lives.” He finally said.

Sif nodded and her hair fell in front of her face. Joker swiped it away, and pushed it behind her ear. She blushed and looked down.

“You look at Shep like that and he’ll be the one I have to worry about.” He grinned.

“Don’t worry, he’s with Ash. That’ll never happen.” She assured him.

“Ash moved on. She’s been with some commando from earth for the last while. Plus, Shepard and her dad a bit of a falling out during our shore leave before the Normandy accident.”

“Why would you tell me that?” She asked him.

“Cause I’m preparing you for the inevitable.” He hated to admit it, but he knew how men worked. He was glad she had the ring he gave her. “And Jacob, I’ve gotta worry about him too. I told you Cerberus was full of guys who’d want to make you theirs.”

Sid didn’t respond she just sat down and started to get familiar with her console and controls.

It wouldn’t be long until they met Shepard face to face.

#commander shepard #mass effect #mass effect legendary edition #jeff moreau #joker mass effect #fanfic #fanfiction #mass effect fandom #mass effect fanfiction #slow burn romance

[short-circuit-the-great]

Dying Sun / A Hundred Thousand Stars / Ch 7 / Solar Refraction

AO3 link | Previous chapter

Windsnarl's recruitment efforts continue, leading her to speak with two robots who have a painful stake in her future.

Chapter 7: Solar Refraction

Windsnarl went looking for people to join what she and Warp Drive had decided to call the Velocitronian Security Force. Simple enough name. Straight to the point. 

The first place she tried was the hotspot well in Navitas, which sounded like an odd place to look but she was after someone in particular: the spark harvester Skytracks. Skytracks had never been fond of racing, and the rumors were she was slow, but Windsnarl didn’t care about that. What she did care about was that Skytracks was huge and easily as strong as her, and she could also fly. Dreadsmoke could fly too, also making it useful, but Windsnarl would have to think more about what to do with it. It wouldn’t be seeing attacks from the air, that was for sure.

Skytracks being able to fly, though? Aerial perspective was precisely the purpose Windsnarl had in mind. Air support would be invaluable.

“No,” was Skytracks’s immediate answer, and she was holding a protoforming spark as though she wanted to emphasize how busy she was. “I’m not leaving the well. These sparks will be absorbed back into the hotspot otherwise.”

“Anyone else could do this work,” Windsnarl said.

Skytracks laughed. “Anyone else would use this room as a race track and kill every protoform and brand new sparkling.”

Kill every sparkling.

Windsnarl kept her face expressionless, but a flicker of grief and anger passed through her optics, and Skytracks saw it with the one eye she still had.

“Right,” she said. “The murder. Sorry about that. Good luck making your army or whatever to get revenge on the rest of us. Now leave me alone.”

Windsnarl raised her claws. “I could kill you where you stand, Skytracks of Neo.”

Skytracks loomed over her, staring down at her with her single yellow optic. “Try it.”

Windsnarl’s optics scanned Skytracks’s massive body and her hands that could snap her in half with ease, and she growled and turned away, heading for the door. Skytracks’s plating clicked together as she waved, and she said, “Feel free to take a new sparkling on the way out.”

Windsnarl’s hands clenched into fists and she whirled around and swung at Skytracks, aiming straight for the hole in her face where her other optic used to be. Skytracks caught her fist and moved the protoform to a compartment on her leg for safety. Windsnarl clawed at her with her other hand, only for Skytracks to grab that one too and stare at her.

“I’ll have you know,” Skytracks said, “that I am not particularly attached to robots I didn’t harvest.”

She pushed Windsnarl away, and Windsnarl growled and rubbed her wrists.

“Get out,” Skytracks said. “I don’t need to be fast to rip you in half, though I suppose you’d already know that.”

Windsnarl tensed her legs to jump up and claw Skytracks’s face off, but then she growled again and turned away, walking toward the door. Then she started running and leaped outside, transforming and driving as far away as she could. She left Navitas far, far behind and finally stopped at the edge of the city, and only then did she change back, walking up to the railing to look out over the barren landscape under the setting sun.

She rested her hands on the railing, then her arms, then her head, hiding her face. She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry more than anything. But she couldn’t.

Warp Drive, I can’t do this.

But she had to.

They needed a security force. They couldn’t stand by and do nothing while violence swept over Velocitron, something that had only gotten worse in the days since the incident at the launch site. There were reports of people being attacked in Neo, in Umbra, in Glare, even in Windsnarl’s home city of Catalyst, which had always seemed so safe.

And that’s all they were.

Reports.

No one did anything about them because there was no one TO do anything about them, and that had to be fixed, and Windsnarl had to fix it now. She had to find people who were willing to fight, people who were strong enough. But if the strong people weren’t willing to fight, who else was there?

Someone tapped her shoulder. Windsnarl looked over to see Warp Drive, who signed:

That was only one person, and Skytracks is notoriously a huge asshole. Too much time alone in the hotspot wells.

Don’t give up yet.

Windsnarl smiled a little bit and wanted to take her hand, but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to, so she looked back at the landscape. Warp Drive did something completely unexpected and ducked under her arm, which made Windsnarl jump. Warp Drive moved away, thinking she’d gone too far, but Windsnarl reached out and pulled her back without even thinking.

MAYBE SHE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO DO THAT.

But before Windsnarl could move away, Warp Drive moved closer and slipped their hands together.

I have an idea of where to look next, she said.

Where? Windsnarl said.

Warp Drive’s antennae twitched in a way Windsnarl was pretty sure was the equivalent of a smile. The toughest robots are going to be at the-

Seediest bar in town, Windsnarl said when they got there, an absolute hole in the wall in the Delta market. It reminded her of Liquid Lancer’s in Neo, but somehow worse, and the sign was so beat up she couldn’t even read the name. As soon as they entered, rough-looking robots were everywhere, covered in patches of rust and missing paint, some with broken or missing optics, some with mismatched limbs, some with cracked wings and tires so ragged and worn out that they couldn’t possibly last through another race. Everyone was talking and laughing and enjoying their drinks. Some of them played games too, such as darts or a host of card games Windsnarl didn’t care to name. She’d never been good at any of that, though she bet she could throw a dart pretty damn accurately if someone’s optic was the target instead of that stupid board on the wall.

None of these people looked like they were disciplined enough to be in any sort of security force protecting Velocitron and its people, but Windsnarl couldn’t be picky, so she looked around carefully, seeing which robots looked to be the toughest. She kept Warp Drive close by, though everyone was too absorbed in their drinks or conversations or games to pay her any attention.

One very drunk robot leaned back in her chair and made eye contact with Windsnarl, smiling and waving and nearly falling to the floor. She caught herself at the last second and slammed her drink back onto the table, still waving at Windsnarl.

“Sheriff, dude,” the robot said, “is that green thing your Conjunx?”

HUH?

Of all the disrespectful-

TO IMPLY SHE WAS SO UNPROFESSIONALLY CLOSE TO WARP DRIVE.

But that would be nice, wouldn’t it? NO, no, it wouldn’t. Windsnarl couldn’t think like that, especially not after what happened with Snowcrush. She wasn’t going through that again, not for anything. And this was the First Senator. Have some respect. 

When we are together, we are the same.

Meet me as a fellow Velocitronian.

Aaaaand those words complicated things. Because that made it possible that thinking this way WAS fine, despite everything that happened, and that Warp Drive even welcomed it, which she most certainly did not.

Then why did she grab my arm like that earlier?

To talk to her, obviously!

But she got way closer than she needed to and I liked it and she liked it too.

NO THINKING LIKE THAT.

NOT ALLOWED.

Windsnarl was so caught up in trying to suppress whatever THAT was that she completely missed where this robot had called Warp Drive “that green thing.” It finally registered and Windsnarl raised her claws, moving closer to the robot. She didn’t care if this person was drunk. Warp Drive was the First Senator. No one was going to call her “that green thing.”

“She’s so pretty,” the robot said, dragging out the last word. “She also reeeally looks like the First Senator.”

“She is the First Senator,” Windsnarl said coldly, and she completely forgot to say that Warp Drive was also NOT her Conjunx, but it was too late.

“Sheriff Windsnarl pulled the First Senator!” the drunk robot yelled to the entire bar, and everyone went nuts.

Well, almost everyone. There was a group in the corner of the bar that was yelling and cheering about something else, and Windsnarl, who wanted nothing more than to jump into the solar storms at this point, turned her attention over there.

“Excuse me,” she said, and she moved in that direction, Warp Drive following closely.

“You two are the only ones doing anything!” the drunk robot called after them. “Please get married!”

What?

Windsnarl abandoned the event in the corner for a moment to turn back to the drunk robot, who still needed to be punched in the face for the “green thing” comment anyway. (But she HAD said Warp Drive was pretty, so perhaps it wasn’t malicious at all, but Windsnarl should still treat it that way, right?) “What do you mean we’re the only ones doing anything?” she said.

“About the violence,” the drunk robot said. “People have been getting attacked all over Velocitron by these crime groups—don’t know why, and it’s kinda always been a problem, but it got super bad out of nowhere.”

Windsnarl saw Photon’s blood flying through the air again, and she blinked and said, “Yeah, it did.”

“Heard you’re building something to deal with it,” the drunk robot said as she took another sip, like she needed that in any way. “You taking applications?”

Windsnarl finally put her claws away. “Yes, we are actively recruiting. What is your experience?”

“Mm, hardly sober enough for an interview,” the robot said. “But my name’s Lionstrike.”

She waved at the other robots at her table, all equally drunk. “Starlane, Mirrorbreaker, Bullet Train, Torpedo, and Hammerfist. We’ve all lost a friend or a Conjunx or a limb—that’s why we’re drunk, hehe!”

There was nothing funny about that.

“Happy to join,” Lionstrike said. “Let us know where to—hic—go and we’ll pull up when we can think straight. Hehehehe.”

She turned to the others, took a long sip of her drink, and slammed it back down, yelling, “Guys, all my friends are dead. I was forced to watch.”

They all started laughing, and Windsnarl stepped away, struggling not to think about Photon. God, it was so hard not to think about Photon. But Warp Drive was here and Windsnarl was able to stay tethered to reality when she brushed her tail against her, though only by a thread.

“The Citadel,” Windsnarl said to the drunk robots. “Come to the Citadel tomorrow. I will be waiting.”

“Yeah, dude,” Lionstrike said, and Windsnarl finally walked away.

No matter how much she wanted to go home right now, she couldn’t, and she was going to see what was going on in that corner, where the robots were still cheering for something. She had six recruits now, but six recruits was not enough. She needed far more.

And maybe that corner would have some.

When Windsnarl got there, she pushed her way to the front of the group right as a robot’s arm was crushed into the table and everyone erupted into more cheering. The giant hand closed around his own let go of him, and as the robot rubbed his hand and turned away with a scowl, the same giant hand whacked him on the back. It was big enough to cover the entire surface.

“Better luck next time,” said a voice like exploding stars—rough and broken, but a powerful sort of broken, like the way an avalanche was tumbling fragments of a mountain.

Windsnarl looked up. And up. And up. And up some more. And up a lot more. And there behind the table, which was bent significantly in the middle and would likely not last much longer, was the biggest robot Windsnarl had ever seen. The only ones she’d seen that were bigger than that were the combiners from Cybertron, and those were essentially multiple robots in a trench coat. This was one robot. One massive, shiny golden robot, bright like the sun and with optics like the red Energon some people used to cheat at racing. 

“Who’s next?” the giant robot said as a much smaller one collected a few coins from the robot who’d just lost. “Wrangle, you want to try?”

The coin collecting robot put the coins in a jar and shook her head. “No. My glorious mind reading powers tell me you’re planning to throw me straight out the window.”

“Come on, I only did that to the first guy,” the giant robot said with a grin. “And your glorious mind reading powers are not real.”

“Are too!”

“What am I thinking right now?”

“Wrangle snores funny,” Wrangle said with a long sigh, and the giant robot cackled.

“You’re right, but at what cost?” she said with a snicker. “Get over here.”

Wrangle went over to her and the giant robot lifted her up so they could touch their foreheads together. For that moment, they looked happier than Windsnarl had ever seen anyone, and then the giant robot set her down and cracked her knuckles, a sound like thunder.

Then her optics landed on Windsnarl.

“You,” the giant robot said. “You look strong. Arm wrestle me.”

“I’m not here for that,” Windsnarl said. “I need your strength for another task.”

The robots gathered around the broken table began to move away, and the giant robot laughed under her breath and slowly stood up. The blades on her back rattled as they fanned out, scraping the ceiling and leaving long scratch marks. When she was fully standing, she had to lean over so she wouldn’t crash straight through the ceiling and out the roof, and she slammed her hands onto the table, breaking what was left of it. She settled for crouching on one knee, still towering over everyone present, and Windsnarl noticed two long poles attached to her legs—were they missiles?

No, she realized when Wrangle handed the giant robot a massive sword and then another. They were scabbards, and it looked like there was no way the swords would fit, but mass displacement allowed them to click back into place, put away for now but ready at the hip if there was a need to draw.

“Now what task could the First Senator have for someone like me?” the giant robot said as her optics rolled over to Warp Drive.

“We’re building a security force to address the outburst of violent crime all over the planet,” Windsnarl said, “and we need strong people to join.”

The giant robot snorted with laughter and whacked Wrangle’s shoulder, though Windsnarl noticed she held back significantly. “They want me to be a cop,” the giant robot said. “Upholding the law and bending it however I please.”

“The second part is not true,” Windsnarl said. “The law is never bent.”

“It’s not?” the giant robot said. “That’s news to me.”

Her optics burned into Windsnarl’s. “Tell me, Sheriff—how long until you turn against the very people you set out to protect? Fighting violence with more violence, hurting them worse than they hurt us—how long until you go from protecting Velocitron to crushing it beneath your claws? Not long, I will bet, and when it happens, I will never stop working to bring your regime crashing down.”

“No one said anything about a regime,” Windsnarl said. “I only want us to be able to protect ourselves, and Velocitron as it stands is not strong enough.”

“And you’ll do anything to make it strong enough,” the giant robot said. “Absolutely anything. I know what kind of person you are—my Cybertronian friend here says you have the optics of someone she knows.”

Wrangle didn’t make eye contact, only whispering a name Windsnarl almost missed over the sound of the rest of the bar carrying on with their conversations.

“Megatron.”

Windsnarl had heard this name before. He was a revolutionary on Cybertron, standing up to the functionist regime there. What was so bad about that? Megatron saw things could be better and was working to change them. Windsnarl was doing the same thing.

All she wanted was a stronger Velocitron.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Windsnarl said. “If you aren’t going to join us, then we will be leaving now.”

“My name is Suncatcher,” the giant robot said. “I expect to meet again.”

Suncatcher. Why did that sound like a name that was going to haunt Windsnarl for the rest of her life? She didn’t think any more about it and left the bar with Warp Drive, who grabbed her hand and said:

We got a few people. It wasn’t a total loss.

Windsnarl agreed, but it was still unfortunate that both Skytracks and Suncatcher had refused. And they were both incredibly threatening about it too.

How long until you go from protecting Velocitron to crushing it beneath your claws?

Never. Windsnarl wouldn’t do that.

And Warp Drive wouldn’t either.

Building the Security Force proved to continue to be a struggle. Windsnarl put advertisements calling for recruits all over the Delta market, and Warp Drive helped her distribute them in Neo as well. The rest of the senate was atrociously unhelpful, and the only senator who distributed any advertisements in their own city was Burnout, though she made her guards do it.

That was when Windsnarl realized she was a dumbass.

The guards, she said to Warp Drive. We just have to train the guards. That will make up a huge portion of the Security Force.

Recruitment efforts were still a good idea, but they had many, many guards all over Velocitron, at least a thousand for each Citadel and two thousand for the Delta Citadel due to its size and importance. That was huge, at least compared to the six recruits they’d started with in the bar.

You’re going to train that many people? Warp Drive said. I don’t doubt your abilities, Windsnarl-

She said her name she said her name why did Windsnarl like that so much what was going on.

-but that is too much work for one person, Warp Drive said.

Who else can train them? Windsnarl said. The two people I was going to ask to help with this both refused.

And one more too—Windsnarl had sought out a particular patron at Liquid Lancer’s. Lancer himself had said no, but he was no stronger than the typical racer. No, Windsnarl wanted the person who was always drinking there, a fellow part-Predacon named Grizzly, more commonly referred to as Grizz. He was big and strong and, of course, like the two other big and strong robots Windsnarl spoke to, he refused to join the Security Force.

Dustbrawl knows how to fight, Warp Drive said. Ask her for help.

Dustbrawl fights for fun, Windsnarl said. She has never killed anyone. She will need to kill for this job.

She can learn, Warp Drive said. Work with her first, and when she learns to kill, have her train the others alongside you.

How can I change a person’s entire philosophy? Windsnarl said. It’s a game to her, remember? No one dies in games.

Tell her this is a new game, Warp Drive said, in which the only way to win is to kill. If your opponent gets up again, they can hurt you again. Dustbrawl will learn to finish them.

Anyone can change, Windsnarl.

Especially for the worse.

And for the worse is what we need.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers dying sun #tf fan continuity #transformers fanfiction #writers on tumblr #oc: warp drive #oc: windsnarl #oc: suncatcher #oc: skytracks #warpsnarl #ao3 writer

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I am currently plodding along on Chapters 21&22 of YCDHN while also poking gently at a GotG fic as a palette cleanser. Since it's gonna be two more weeks (at the very least) until I have these chapters finished and can post again, here's a longer scene from Chapter 21, featuring Molly and Lucien again. Because I love them.

Molly decided that as livid as he was, it wasn’t going to prevent him from enjoying the rest of his evening. The other shoe had dropped, but it wasn’t so devastating that he couldn’t just shove fruits in a chocolate fountain, overindulge on plum wine, or sit on the balcony about it. When was the next time he’d be at a fancy party anyway? Not any time soon with their current dance card.

The drinking definitely led him to the balcony sooner than he might have wanted because it went straight to his head even watered down, and turned him from the picture of grace to a dance floor hazard and he took off before any of the Aurora Watch casing the place could escort him away for drunk and disorderly behavior.

He avoided the parlor he had left the Nein and Essek in when he left, choosing a balcony as far away from it as possible and collapsing against the balustrade. His head spun and he had to squint to get all the little lamps shedding light through the Firmaments to coalesce into something that made sense, rather than seeming like an endless sea of stars on the ground. The air was cool and soothed his flushed skin and he leaned a bit further out so a gentle breeze coming in off the Wastes could ruffle his hair.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Molly nearly startled out of his own skin, his tail going rigid, as he whirled around, locking eyes with Lucien, perched on the other side of the balcony, one leg braced against the floor and his back to the wall. He looked shockingly pensive.

“That’s a loaded question to ask a carnie without context, Lucien.” He dragged a hand down his reddened face. Lucien didn’t move beyond drumming his fingers on his bent knee, eyes glued to some point on the horizon.

“What you said to Caleb- about us not needing to be fixed.”

Molly’s shoulders drooped. “So you were listening?” Shocking.

“Wanted to see if you were gonna break it off with him.” Lucien had the audacity to smirk. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to have a go now.”

He exhaled. Once the shock went away, he had almost expected Lucien to carry this conversation beyond petty jabs, and yet here they were. People thought he was the petty one, but clearly they were too distracted by Lucien’s platinum words to tell when he was just elongating an insult or a quip into something educated and pretentious. If they weren’t, they would know that he was the one constantly starting the fights. (Well. Mostly. Perhaps. Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone was keeping score here.) “Right. Lovely. See, I know you’re just being a dick right now, so I’m gonna ignore it and see how long it takes for you to get to the point or give up and lurk somewhere else.”

“Does this look like lurking to you?” Lucien waved his hands. Gods, he actually looked scandalized. Moonweaver’s ribbons. “You’re the one who came out here to sulk and-“

“I meant it,” Molly snapped, suddenly, unable to hold it back. Lucien cut himself off with a click of his teeth pressed together and waited for him to continue. “It’s not ideal, but what is, really? I think if you weren’t in my head now… I’d feel like I was missing something. I don’t want to be one person. I want us to be the best version of ourselves like this. And maybe we can’t do that alone. Maybe we need the tether.”

Lucien shook his head, his tail twitching like a pendulum between the balusters. “Souls aren’t meant to be split like this. We’ll go mad, eventually. Or we’ll just get one another killed. What’s the point, sliver? I want to be me and I don’t want any of…” He waved his hand, indicating all of Molly, “… you fuckin’ with that, but it’s going to end eventually. This won’t work forever.”

“Forever isn’t a set time, Lucien.” Bold of anyone to assume otherwise. Molly had believed that his time was borrowed from the moment he crawled out of the grave. It took dying for him to realize he and the world deserved better than him running from vice to vice and never caring about the consequences, because he could drop dead the next day and none of it would matter. It always mattered. “Forever could be next week or a century from now. I know you don’t hate this arrangement. You’re just scared of losing it and having to adapt to something else.”

“See? This is why I don’t like sharing a soul.” Lucien dragged his tongue along the back of his teeth. “You can’t even keep what you see in here to yourself.”

“It’s just you and me, Lucien.” Molly threw his arms out, indicating the balcony. No one else so much as walked past the open door in the hallway and the crowds around the building cared absolutely nothing for two tieflings enjoying their nightly existential crisis. “Do you really think we need to be fixed?”

He knew the answer already. That Lucien was avoiding it was just proof that he was still childishly clinging to a lot of old beliefs that he wasn’t ready to let go of. Once they were gone, he would never get them back, like an old leather coat that had grown too small but had been so useful and well-loved that it hurt to set it aside. It was as if he believed all the years he spent needing the coat would simply stop existing and it would feel like he wasted years on mending and taking care of something he was just going to grow out of. A sunk cost fallacy down to the marrow of his identity- if I let go, then what does that mean for everything I’ve held onto? If I change, then what was the point of who I was? If I stop hurting now, then I could have stopped any time and I didn’t.

There was only so much a person could do to insist upon change. You couldn’t make it happen. It simply would if it were going to, but maybe not at the speed you would have hoped. Lucien’s growth had been sporadic, prone to backwards steps, but fuck if he wasn’t blooming underneath his layers of scar tissue. There were just still things within him that needed to be bled of the rot once and for all and only Lucien, himself, could hold the scalpel. No one else could. Not even Molly, who hadn’t so much wielded a scalpel this whole time but a hammer.

“No,” he finally said, because Molly could see everything else as clearly as if he’d been monologuing again. He didn’t actually need to put more words to it. “I don’t think we need to be fixed.”

Molly, relieved by this bit of honesty and more than a little proud, stepped closer and tapped the spade of his tail against Lucien’s. The gesture surprised him so much he almost fell off the rail, but he managed to get his other foot down to brace himself. The reaction was almost laughable- somewhere between stunned and offended, eyes wide as saucers in the golden planes of his freckled face. Maybe he’d never known another tiefling well enough to receive any kind of tail-based affection. He was shocked Jester- who had taught him- hadn’t been introducing the concept to Lucien near constantly.

Knowing Jester, she was probably expecting him to be the first, because it made more sense that he and Lucien should get closer, to bond the way family did.

That was a thought. It would have made Molly recoil months ago, but now he invited the concept in like an old friend. You have more family than you know, you fucker. You’re getting there. You and the Tombtakers are healing together. You could heal with us too.

You will heal with us too, not because you don’t have a choice, but because we’re not willing to let you go now that we’ve got you here.

He slipped back inside, knowing better than to talk too much and ruin a good thing (at least at this moment- maybe next time he isn’t so savvy or he pushes his buttons too much for him to not have the last word but that’s next time), leaving Lucien with his stunned reaction to freely given affection and the comforting reassurance that they were on the same page about something at least, even if he wasn’t ready to say more than he had to out loud.

That was fine. Lucien needed to learn to listen more than anything else. If he wasn’t talking too much, then he was definitely paying attention. Keep watching and maybe you’ll learn something about how ridiculous it was to be miserable just because you’ve already devoted so much time to it and you don’t want to give it up. Maybe you can be happy and miserable at the same time. We all do it.

Molly especially knew this, because pain was as much a part of Lucien’s soul as joy was to his own. Neither would survive relying solely on those two things. It had been a long time since Molly had ignored all else solely to chase joy and in that time, he had learned to sit with his pain. He was doing it now, still thinking of Caleb and Essek’s betrayal and letting it hurt even underneath the buzz of the wine.

Lucien, conversely, sat with pain so much that he saw everything as something that would or already had hurt him. Joy was fleeting and sometimes came with knives. He had to stay vigilant and not get distracted. He dismissed good experiences to focus on the bad and that focus needed to shift, because nothing was going to change either experience- that already happened. He needed a lot more joy that didn’t terrify him. He got some of it tonight with Cree if that dance was any indication.

Considering that, Molly turned and walked back to the balcony and grabbed Lucien by his capelet to tug him off the rail, which he responded to by digging his heels in before Molly could haul him forwards. It worked because even with his level of determination, he wasn’t capable of hauling nearly two hundred pounds of dead weight muscle down a hall.

Lucien’s anger at the manhandling was more of an indignant squawk though, so that was something. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“We’re going to go eat fondue and drink and not talk about anyone’s damage or Essek or anything. I’m gonna sit with how shite this night was later and really think on it- probably- but right now you have no reason to be miserable and that fascinates me. I feel like we could do more with that.”

He tugged him again and Lucien stumbled over the threshold into the hall, but didn’t try to yank himself free and head in the opposite direction, at least. Genuine curiosity will always win out in these scenarios.

“Right. Well. I’m not one to waste free food and alcohol when it presents itself.” Lucien’s smile was tight, but it wasn’t like he was holding back a grimace so much as it was like he was holding back a laugh.

That was something anyway.

#cr fic #wip wednesday #you can't deny high noon

[goddessofroyalty]

Realized I need to stop just moving onto writing the next thing and actually type one of the ficlets up.

He’s the other of Silco bonding with the girls after they adopt them. Vi’s 10ish in this – old enough to be starting to get into fights but still young enough that she probably shouldn’t.  

Verse: Zaun Family (but just the co-parenting + Zaun Representative elements)

----------------

The side window to Silco’s office creaks as its pushed open from the outside. A useful security feature for one that is accessible to those in Zaun who know how to navigate rooftops.

Silco isn’t worried. The footsteps that follow are a child’s. And while his enemies wouldn’t be above sending a child attacker he could hardly call himself a parent if he couldn’t distinguish his own.

“What have you done that you don’t want Vander to know about?” Silco doesn’t need to look up from his work to his eldest daughter to know she has been up to something Vander wouldn’t approve of. She would enter through the Last Drop if she had been only getting up to innocent mischief.

“I thought you were in Piltover today,” Vi says as she walks across the room. Her shuffling footsteps betraying her guilt.

“The Council finished early and I had reports I needed to review,” Silco says, glancing to his side where Vi is standing. The girl giving him a sheepish smile despite her black eye and split lip. “And you have been getting into fights.”

“They started it!” Vi protests, swinging her arms wide as if it will help prove her point and not just make her look like a guilty child.

“I’m sure they did,” Silco says, reaching into his draw to get out the supplies that had been proven necessary long before they gained their children. Who started it not actually mattering that much. “Did you at least finish it?”

“Yeah,” Vi says with a small smile.

“That’s my girl.” Silco isn’t Vander. He understands there will always be a place for violence in their world and would rather his children be safe than be good.

Vi’s eyes flicker nervously as he pours the alcohol onto the clothe to tend to her lip. Still young enough to fear pain.

She stands straight as he brings it close though.

“You will need to get some ice from the bar for your eye,” Silco says to cover how she winces at the burn of the alcohol.

With anyone else he’d tell them not to be weak. But she isn’t anyone else.

“Can’t you get it for me?” she asks. Wanting to avoid the confrontation with Vander over it.

“Even if I did he will notice eventually. It’s going to take at least a week for that eye to go down.”

“I could always tell him I ran into a table,” Vi says, looking to the side.

She really is as terrible of a liar as her father.

Good thing she is shaping up to be as good of a fighter as him.

“I know he wouldn’t believe me even if I said that,” Vi says with a shrug, her lip curling in annoyance. “Acting like he didn’t get into fights when he was my age.”

“Violence was more necessary when we were young,” Silco says, cupping Vi’s jaw to move her face around so he can check for any other injuries. They haven’t completely removed the need for violence in their lives nor will they ever. But now the violence is for progress not merely survival.

“You’re just saying that because he’s your husband. You have to agree with him.”

Silco clicks his tongue at that comment.

“As fond of as I am of him I have never just agreed with Vander because of our relationship.” There was much too much at stake to go along with something he didn’t fully support. Their disagreements often ending in better solutions than if they had gone with the initial idea.

Silco rubs his thumb along a dark shadow on Vi’s cheek. Confirming it is dirt and not bruise.

“People know you are our child. Your behavior is a reflection of us and our parenting,” Silco says, gently running a finger down Vi’s face before leaning back in his chair, packing away the supplies now he is satisfied her wounds have been dealt with. “Vander wants people to know we are working to aid them and that we are responsible with the power we have gained.”

Having their children be the neighborhood bullies would have people thinking they think themselves better than the rest of Zaun was Vander’s logic. Even if he knows that not even their name can protect their children from their own bullies.

“And what do you want?” Vi asks.

“I want out people to be free and safe. Especially our children. And Zaun will always need people able and willing to fight for it.” Until the day Piltover finally acknowledged them as equals and grants them the independence they deserve his children will need to be strong enough to withstand their brutality. “You should go get the ice, try and get that bruise down before it shuts your eye.”

“Right,” Vis says, looking apprehensive at the idea of facing Vander but still accepting her face with shoulders back.

“Vi,” Silco says when she reaches the door, the girl immediately turning back to him. “Tell Vander I sent you to pick something up for me at the old docks. Something fell off the ships and you didn’t have time to move out the way.”

Vander would no doubt be unhappy that Silco had sent one of their children to the old docks knowing the kind of people who used them and how dangerous they were from the years of disrepair. But Silco can manage his husband. And his daughter’s grateful face makes it worth the inevitable argument.

#Zaun Family #Vanco #Silco Arcane #Violet Arcane #Arcane #I accidently a ficlet #Anon prompt #Zaun Dads

[pickledpascal]

St. Patrick's Day

Chapter Five: January

Summary: Jordan is invited to a New Year's party. Something she's never experienced before but maybe it'd be nice to go.

Warnings: Lots of nerves, 18+ themes.

Word Count: 4.8k

St. Patrick's Day Masterlist

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New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day was made as an excuse to drink copious amounts of alcohol and to gorge oneself on different foods. The holiday may not call for a feast like Thanksgiving or Christmas but there were trays and trays of tiny appetizers, usually some sort of thinly sliced meat on a light cracker or simple fruits in a bowl with toothpicks off to the side to spear them and lift them into a guests mouth. Jordan hadn’t celebrated New Year’s like that ever, really. Most years, she’d simply just put on the New York celebration on the TV while having some leftovers from Christmas as she watched–not attentive but just enough to notice when the ten seconds to midnight countdown started. Even when she lived with her parents, it was a similar routine. They didn’t have a party or guests over. Only the light buzz of noise that came from the television while her father had some sort of mixed drink and her mother retreated to her room around eleven. Her brothers were out so it would only be Jordan who was still awake by midnight, her father only slightly opening his eyes to see the ball drop. It wasn’t special but it wasn’t something Jordan desperately wanted to change either. There were far more important things she wanted to change about her family, their stance on certain legislation about queer people like her, things like that. Years of being out and they still didn’t fully accept her. She had her friends for that.

Jordan’s friends had left for the year, saying their goodbyes before they went home. They wanted to celebrate the New Year in their own homes and she couldn’t blame them, she didn’t do anything special for the holiday. But as the day came closer, she got an invitation to go to a party from Hugh. Jordan knew she wouldn’t be much fun at a party like that and tried to deny him but he kept asking and pleading since he wanted some of his friends to meet her.

“Come on, darling! I swear they don’t believe you even exist sometimes. They have to meet you!” Hugh exclaimed. He’d called her while she was in the middle of editing a video to be released later that day.

Jordan shook her head, clicking a few things with her mouse. “Hugh, I don’t think it’ll be fun for me. I barely go to movie premieres when asked.” Jordan never liked admitting she was famous, especially not to other famous people who worked much harder than she did. They weren’t able to make their schedule like she did. 

“Darling, it isn’t a movie premiere. There won’t be any famous people there.” Hugh responded with a light sigh. He might have been lying a little…. There would be one famous person there besides himself. “Plus, you learned how to be around me. Wouldn’t it be a similar process if there happened to be someone famous there?” He joked softly. He’d desperately wanted his friends to meet the girl who lit up his world as brightly as the sun. 

Jordan pursed her lips, taking her hand away from her mouse. The video was finished after four straight hours of editing. “That’s…. Different. I fell in love with you.” She admitted softly as she fiddled with the necklace that laid on her chest. Hugh was trying to flirt with her after all. She began to realize that, even when they first met during the Christmas tree lighting. 

“Can’t have that with anyone else.” Hugh hummed and Jordan could hear the smile in his voice. He was smug. He knew he had an amazing partner and would rather die than give that up. Hugh wanted to boast to his friends as much as she would let him.

Jordan rolled her eyes, twirling slightly in her chair. “Mhm. You have my heart, Hugh Dancy. Only you could force me to go to a party.” She finally gave in. She knew she didn’t stand a chance either way, Hugh could be quite convincing when he tried to be.

“Great! God, have I mentioned I love you, darling? So much.” Hugh said excitedly, feeling the urge to kiss her. Unfortunately, they were only on a call and he couldn’t kiss her through the phone. 

Jordan laughed quietly as she adjusted her glasses. They always seemed to slip off her nose. Must be her naturally oily skin. “Only about a hundred times.” She smiled, moving her video file over to YouTube so she could upload it. 

The video just so happened to be her ranking Hugh Dancy characters. None of her fans knew of their relationship and Jordan didn’t reveal it in the video. It was made more as a joke, one that only she was in on. And her roommate. And Hugh himself but she doubted he watched any of her videos. 

“Then I’ll say it a hundred more.” Hugh responded, his happiness evident in his voice. Jordan didn’t even have to see his face. She could clearly imagine his bright smile and the glimmer of happiness in his eyes.

That was how Jordan was dragged to a New Year’s party for the first time in her entire life. Sure, people had offered but none were successful in convincing her to come. When she told Elle the news, she was ecstatic and insisted she needed to wear the infamous little black dress that dominated simple fashion since the 50s. Jordan didn’t have a little black dress, a black dress, or any dresses for that matter. Half of her formal clothes were suits or rompers that could be paired with a blazer to dress it up. Dresses just never felt right to her, even as a little girl. 

But Elle was adamant that Jordan needed one. “It goes with anything!” Was what she’d said. So there they were, at the entrance of the mall to find something for Jordan to wear. The mall was big and there weren't many people there since it was a weekday so it was easy for the two to disappear if they felt like it. Elle wasn’t the most famous person on the planet but she wasn’t a D-Lister either. Neither was Jordan. In public, they could be stopped a hundred times if they accepted everyone that came their way. They both tried to at least say hi to them if someone walked up to them but they also had their own things to do which Jordan did feel guilty for sometimes. 

The pair stopped when Elle spotted a few nice dresses through a shop window. She pulled Jordan inside so they could sift through some of the clothes. She knew Jordan didn’t like anything too revealing when it was winter, so anything with a big slit or deep chestline was out of the question. A few minutes into their search, Jordan finally found something she liked and pulled it out for Elle to look at. 

It was a knee-length black turtleneck sweater dress with a hole on the back that seemed to stop right above where one’s tailbone would start. It wasn’t conventional for what Jordan liked to wear during the winter, usually warmth was her biggest priority but she knew she’d wear a heavy jacket anyway.

Elle pursed her lips as she looked at it. It didn’t look bad. In fact, it looked very nicely made and she knew it would fit Jordan perfectly. “You should try it on. Make sure you like it.” She suggested. 

Jordan pursed her lips, nodding as she walked into one of the dressing rooms to change. One thing she absolutely hated about dressing rooms when trying on dresses is that she had to completely undress down to her underwear to put it on. If she didn’t then everything would just look weird. No one wore a dress over jeans. It would look horrible if they did, people already tried that in the early 2000s. There’s a reason that didn’t come back.

Cracking the door open, Jordan stepped outside the room to show Elle how she looked. The dress fit her just right, tight in the best places while still giving her enough room to move in whatever way she’d like and it wasn’t too tight around her neck. Paired with some fishnets or some other tights, she knew it would be taken to a  new level and look even better. It was the one. She just needed confirmation from her friend. 

“If Hugh doesn’t kiss you on the spot, I will. That man is…. Very in love with you, though, so I don’t expect him not to.” Elle said as soon as she saw Jordan. “You look great. We’re getting that one.” She smiled brightly.

—-------

Being outside Hugh’s home wasn’t unusual to Jordan at this point. She’d visited him almost every day, making some sort of excuse that she was in the neighborhood but they both knew the truth yet neither wanted to admit it. What was unusual was the fact that there were other people in the house with them. It was just them whenever she visited him. Now, she had her friend by her side but Hugh’s friends greatly outnumber the two of them. It was intimidating. Jordan hadn’t met anyone on Hugh’s side. Was this what he felt when meeting her friends for the first time? Probably not. Hugh had a special air about him that could make absolutely anyone like him. It was most likely a mix of the fact that he had a British accent and his ice blue eyes, they could convince anyone to do anything if he tried. 

It was around ten PM when Elle pressed on the doorbell and she realized Jordan was too frozen in thought to do anything. She nudged her so she was present in the moment before the door could open and they’d eventually be tossed around to talk with different groups of people. Elle was slightly more used to taking a lap and mingling with others since she had to do so for press junkets and interviews. 

As the door opened, it revealed Hugh in a nice looking suit. It was a deep green but the white button up that was tucked into the green slacks didn’t have a tie. Hugh decided to leave the first few buttons open, not opting for a tie to match with his suit. His hair was relatively the same as usual, deep brown curls with a hint of gray at his temples. Though, it looked as if Hugh tried to slick it back. It didn’t stay. He looked handsome and it was very apparent what Jordan thought when she looked up to see him. Her mouth dropped open slightly and her eyes dilated which Elle couldn’t help but chuckle at. It was cute, seeing her so in love. 

“Hello to you too, darling.” Hugh greeted, a teasing tone in his voice as he ushered the two women inside. He pressed a quick kiss to Jordan’s lips. He couldn’t take his eyes off her either. 

Jordan wore that sweater dress and a pair of black fishnets tucked into a pair of shin-high knitted socks that disappeared underneath some platform boots. She was even taller than usual and Hugh couldn’t complain. Her height was one of her most attractive qualities and he wasn’t intimidated by it while some other men were. He didn’t find it necessary to be taller than his partner like some other men did. Her makeup was kept simple, winged eyeliner with a silver shimmery eyeshadow in the corner of her eye and her lips were painted in a deep cherry red. And he thought the bright red made her lips look more enticing. 

Jordan finally caught her breath as she took off the leather jacket that covered her. She bit her lip slightly as she caught another look at Hugh. He was a welcome distraction from the voices in the other room. “Hi.” She said warmly. 

Elle rubbed Jordan’s shoulder, giving her a smile. “I’m gonna go talk to some people. I think I see someone I know.” She said softly. “You gonna be okay together?” She asked. Elle was a very thoughtful person, almost like a mother when she wanted to be. She asked a lot of questions. Mainly about if someone was okay in a million different ways.

“I’ll be fine.” Jordan reassured with a light smile before Elle left her side. It wouldn’t be the last time she saw her that night, thank God. She was scared she was going to lose her for a little while. As some movement flashed in front of them, Jordan slapped her hand on her face. Hugh said there wouldn’t be other famous people there but she knew she should have expected different. Taking a deep breath, Jordan shook her head. “Fuck, nevermind. Mads Mikkelsen is here….”

Hugh had the audacity to laugh in response. “Oh come on, darling. He really doesn’t bite.” He tried to reassure her, setting a hand on her back. He’d known Mads for a while and they didn’t hang out as much as they used to but they liked to have each other over for certain occasions. 

“I doubt that.” Jordan narrowed her eyes at Hugh, stealing a glance at Mads while he was distracted by talking with some woman in a cocktail dress that she didn’t recognize at all. That was good, at least. 

Hugh shrugged with an amused glint in his eyes, “Well, can’t blame me for trying.” They both knew better. He took her hand and pulled her with him when that woman talking with Mads decided to talk with someone else. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind meeting him since he was the first to catch your attention.” He teased.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Jordan breathed, a nervous look in her eyes. She could barely talk with Hugh when they first met, each conversation was initiated by him and Elle was the one to give them their “chance meetings.” That coffee shop, she learned, was carefully orchestrated by her friend. 

Walking up to Mads Mikkelsen felt like a fever dream. He dressed similarly to Hugh except his suit was jet-black, creating an aura of elegance around him. Well, Jordan had seen bloopers that would combat that. People were contradictory and Mads wasn’t an exception. But the intimidating nature of how he dressed and how he held himself in a room full of people, some of which he probably didn’t know either, was stunning to witness. The man’s hair was its natural light gray color, signifying his age but it added to his charm and made him all the more handsome. 

“Mads, this is my lovely girlfriend, Jordan Criss.” Hugh smiled, eyes flicking from her face to Mads’ as he introduced her to him. Jordan gave the older man a thin smile, nerves starting to get to her.

There was a glint of pride in his eyes with each word that left his lips. Jordan had barely seen a pride like his, even from her parents. This type of pride was easy and unconditional. It would last through anything. She could tell it would. Like how an elm tree stood tall while the elements tried to tear it down, never quite succeeding. It was immovable and strong. Sure, the rain and lightning could split some branches in half but they’d never tear the tree itself apart. 

Mads turned to the pair and gave Jordan a polite smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Hugh has painted a very vivid picture about you. You certainly did not disappoint.” He hummed, glancing up at Hugh for a moment. He’d talked about her constantly. Mads didn’t mind though, it was fun to hear about the girl who stole his friend’s heart.

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.” Jordan’s face was flushed with nervousness. Usually, if she was forced to meet someone, she could put on her customer service mask and act as if she was more extroverted than she actually was. Didn’t work this time. At least, not as automatic as a light switch. Jordan had watched movies with Mads Mikkelsen, unintentionally, since she was a child. Casino Royale was her first exposure and ever since then she’d started to notice him in other movies. It was rare when she’d meet someone like that. Someone so ingrained in her childhood that she didn’t realize it until meeting them. She shook her head slightly after all those thoughts rushed to her head, “Sorry.”

Mads, being the understanding man he was, offered Jordan a light smile. “It’s alright.” Maybe it was some trait all celebrities shared but he could easily tell when someone recognized him and some sort of internal conflict inside them if they should act like they did. 

“Jordan told me once that her favorite film of yours happened to be Casino Royale.” Oh fucking god. “But she also admitted that she used to have a crush on Daniel Craig when she was younger.” Hugh teased softly, trying to keep the conversation going. He thought it would be best if Jordan got to know one other person at the party and who better a candidate than Mads?

Mads shrugged, a grin spreading across his lips while Jordan averted her gaze. She tried to look at anything else than the two men on either side of her. “Who wouldn’t? It’s Daniel Craig.” He teased softly. 

“I was also like ten and didn’t understand what bisexuality was because I liked Vesper too.” Jordan sighed out with a shrug as she tilted her head to the side for a moment as she finally looked Mads in the eye for the first time. 

From afar, looking straight into his eyes seemed intimidating. They were dark and the curve of his brow was sharp. Some had described his eyes as a deep maroon color and Jordan almost agreed with them but looking at his eyes up close was a totally different world. Mads’ eyes were dark but looked to be a more chocolatey color, making them more friendly than the aforementioned maroon color. That color seemed to be more dominating in Jordan’s mind. 

Mads nudged Jordan with a sly look in his eyes while Hugh let out a soft laugh. It was the type of laugh that caused his eyebrows to furrow slightly as his eyes twinkled happily. Jordan liked it. 

“You’re funny.” Mads hummed softly. It wasn’t really a joke, he knew that but the way Jordan said it was what made it funny. “I hope I’ll see you again if Hugh doesn’t keep you to himself for forever.” He narrowed his eyes at the man in question while a smirk made its way to his lips, deceiving his want to act like a scolding father.

Hugh rolled his eyes, pulling Jordan closer to him in a slightly protective way. He knew Mads wouldn’t try anything. After all, he was happily married to his wife but the empty threat of wanting to see Jordan again made him react subconsciously. “You will, Mads. Maybe at the next party.” He smiled, gently squeezing at Jordan’s hip.

Dazed at the touch, Jordan simply nodded. She didn’t catch much of the words exchanged afterwards. Next party? She never agreed to that. Not that she wouldn’t but…. Huh? Jordan somewhat expected the party to feel like a fever dream but not to the extent she was feeling then. She’d just met and talked with Mads Mikkelsen who she then almost immediately told that she was bisexual and then he’d said he wanted to see her again. How fucking lucky was she? Most fans of his would pay hundreds of dollars just to see him in person and Jordan got it for free with a promise to see him again.

Yeah, definitely a fever dream.

—------

The rest of the party went alright. Jordan had her awkward moments but was quickly picked back up again by Hugh or Elle. There was rarely a moment when they left her side besides when she needed to go to the bathroom. She slowly eased into being social, gaining more confidence as the night went on to start a conversation instead of letting Hugh or any of his guests initiating it. It was surprising but delightful to see Jordan open up. She didn’t speak much about her personal life, specifically her job since she didn’t think they would understand. Most of Hugh’s guests were of similar age to him. Elle and Jordan seemed to be the only ones their age at the party so she knew it’d be a bit difficult to describe what she did for a living to them so she tried to avoid the question as much as possible. She was mostly successful, the question sneaking in here and there. 

As the countdown for the New Year started, Jordan made her way to the backyard. Snow crunched underneath her boots as she stepped away from the door and sat on the steps. It wasn’t snowing and she was thankful for that but it was cold enough that the snow from a few days ago stuck and was made icier from the cold. But Jordan needed the cold, everything was starting to get to her and the nip of the night air was just what she needed to feel like herself again. 

A few moments later, Jordan could hear the door opened and closed behind her. It didn’t surprise her when Hugh appeared next to her, gently setting his blazer over her shoulders. The blazer was a bit short on her because of her height but loose around her shoulders and arms. She caught a light whiff of his cologne, something citrusy with a hint of pine and some other scent that was undeniably Hugh. It made her smile as she looked off into the night sky. Coincidentally, the moon that night was full and Hugh lived far enough away from the city that the stars shined brightly. They weren’t blocked by the smog that hovered above the city skyline. 

Ten!

“Shouldn’t you be inside? You know, talking with your friends?” Jordan asked as Hugh lit up a cigarette. Smoking wasn’t necessarily something she hated with a passion, people could do whatever they wanted to their own bodies, but she had never found it attractive until she’d met him. Though, Jordan knew she shouldn’t be surprised. A lot of Europeans smoked, Mads included.

Nine!

Hugh took a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke from between his lips as his eyes scanned Jordan’s face. He gave her a light smile as he confessed, “Much like you, I needed a break, darling. Seeing you outside happened to be the best excuse to step out for a moment.” 

Eight!

Jordan hummed in response. She wasn’t sure she needed to say anything, just thankful for Hugh’s company. It was nice. To not need to speak, she’d been doing it all night and it seemed he was tired of it too. She leaned into Hugh’s side, careful to angle her face a certain way as to not let any of the smoke get in her face. 

Seven!

Wrapping an arm around Jordan’s waist, Hugh let his arm holding the cigarette drop for a moment so he could focus on holding her instead. Plus, he sort of liked the light stinging sensation of letting the cigarette burn in between his fingertips. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, causing Jordan to smile and cuddle closer to his side. For warmth only, of course.

Six!

“I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve been alone. Together.” Jordan huffed in a laugh, seeing her warm breath steam in the cold night air until it disappeared. She didn’t blame Hugh for it. She couldn’t. But she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t want just the two of them to be alone for a while.

The world was a wonder to behold and it was a shame she got so used to seeing marvelous things. Like snow. It was made up of tiny little crystalized pieces of ice that formed together to make snowflakes. The flakes themselves were bigger and when bunched together…. Looked like a lump of white, twinkling in the sun.

Five!

Hugh hummed as he put his cigarette between his lips, taking his last drag as he flicked it into the snow by his feet and stomped on it to quickly put it out. “I feel the same way.” He breathed, some of the smoke released through his lips as he talked. “Maybe next time we see each other, it shouldn’t be during a party with lots of people around.” Hugh chuckled softly as he brushed a few out of place hairs away from Jordan’s face.

Four!

“Couldn’t agree more.” Jordan laughed softly as she looked at Hugh with a light smile. 

She could finally fully take in his face for the first time that night. She had to admit, he looked alluring in the moonlight and the faint white light coming from behind them through the glass doors. His blue eyes shined as he stared into hers and the light wrinkles around his eyes and near his brows were brought together to make him all the more attractive. Those grays too. They weren’t overpowering, not really showing his age. The grays were only dusting on Hugh’s temples, some scattered across his beard. One would probably guess he was in his late thirties rather than the reality that he was in his late forties. They might even be surprised to learn his real age.

Three!

Hugh’s lips formed into a thin smirk, not good at hiding the obvious amusement in his eyes. Maybe it was just her but you would think that an actor who’s played as many characters as he did would be much harder to read. That he’d be an enigma of some sort. Not quite. Hugh had his moments. Moments of purposefully concealing himself if he needed to. Never usually around Jordan though. She’d appreciated it. She believed it would be incredibly easy for him to suddenly push all those emotions in his eyes away. 

Two!

It’s been a while since their last kiss, Jordan realized. When they were alone together, kisses were a constant thing throughout their dates. But Jordan did leave Hugh a few times. Mostly to grab some food on a small plate. She was sure Hugh bought most of the snacks, unsure if he could make any from scratch. She probably would have helped if he asked. Though, Jordan could tell that Hugh felt embarrassed when asking for help. Not because she emasculated him or anything of the sort but he probably felt as if it should come easy to him. 

Cooking was like an art. One would have to practice before they started to be decent at it, similar to painting or singing. Some did have a natural talent but practicing helped to hone in on their skills. You couldn’t get better at it until you did.

One!

As soon as the words left those inside the houses’ mouth, the pair outside practically surged into each other. The kiss started out sweet and light and Hugh’s lips were familiar. That same taste as always. Except this time, Jordan could taste and almost smell the champagne he’d had earlier on his lips. She didn’t hate it. It shocked her. Alcohol wasn’t something Jordan liked whether it was inadvertently or on purpose. Perhaps it was the fact that it was on Hugh’s lips, a taste she quite liked without the alcohol but it made it more bearable. In fact, it made Jordan crave his lips even more. She carefully set her hand on the back of Hugh’s neck to keep his head in place, not letting up until she had a feeling he needed to breathe.

He rested his head against Jordan’s when their lips parted, a smirk starting to grow. “I love you.” Hugh whispered as he lifted a hand to gently run along the sharp jaw that belonged to Jordan. “Especially when you kiss me like that. Like you’d love to mark me as yours. I’d let you.” He admitted, eyes darkened and hooded as he watched Jordan’s face. 

She swallowed thickly, her lips a light shade of red from their previous kiss while her eyes were darkened similarly to how Hugh’s were. “You would?” Jordan asked, her voice breathy and nervous. She was thankful that the redness of her cheeks and nose were somewhat concealed by the cold. 

“Mhm.” Hugh hummed, diving in for another kiss.

Making new resolutions a hundred times indeed. Some of them are not so nice to share with others, even close friends. Jordan knew for sure that she wouldn’t share hers with Elle. 

#will graham #will graham x oc #hugh dancy #hugh dancy x oc #hugh dancy x jordan criss #jordan criss #ocs #st. patricks day #adam raki #mads mikkelsen #holidays #new years eve #bobby bronson #luke brandon #confessions of a shopaholic #roar

[auguryes]

@jonbyers​  ;  “ you’re the expert, right? “

     calling him an expert was a stretch.  he knew about as much as anyone else about what was happening to him.  a whole panel of doctors couldn’t comprehend his symptoms in the year after he returned from the upside down, and in the end it nearly killed him.  without his family and friends there to get the mind flayer out of him, he may have faded further and further away until there was nothing left of will byers.  that was meant to be the end of it though until it became clear that something lingered.  it was all separate signs obscuring the true cause, a series of unconnected events that could have meant anything until they returned to hawkins.  that’s when it clicked for will — the migraines, the feeling like he was about to fall through the floor at any given moment, the prickling on his neck.  it all came back to one. 

     he looks towards his brother, gazing back at him with that same hint of anguish that hasn’t left since will reunited with him in the hospital.  the roles should be reserved.  jonathan should have the answers, not looking back to his younger brother.  yet will is the one stuck between two worlds, in a way that nobody (not even el) is.  he’s the one who can potentially reach back through the connection and help them all.  ❛  i don’t know if this is going to work, but it’s the safest option. safer than any of you going into the upside down.  ❜  walking straight into the lion’s den. enough people have died from that.  ❛  just- i need some kind of a focus. it seems to work better when i have a specific outcome in mind to answer.  ❜  will pulls his legs up onto the couch to sit criss cross, settling into a comfortable position.  he inhales as though he’s about to speak, but wavers for a moment,  ❛  ... and, jonathan. if... if anything happens, you know how to pull me out, right?  ❜

#jonbyers : jonathan byers. #answered : do you copy? #three : but i settled for a ghost.