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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

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♡ prompt: "Do you want me to hurt him?" / inspired by 'telephone' by lady gaga

♡ pairing: bart allen ( impulse ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / my schedule is going to become more sporadic starting next week :/ i'm going to keep the warning up until next week.

"Bart, shut up," you said, jokingly pushing him. he laughed, handing you the ice cream, "what? I'm serious! I just think that mint chocolate is better. if you have just mint, it'll taste like toothpaste and if you have just chocolate, it's too sweet so mint chocolate is a good even ground," he explained.

you felt your phone vibrate as Jinny spoke up, talking about how Bart and Connor shared one brain cell outside of the field. looking down to see who was ringing you, you saw that it was your god forsaken boyfriend for the 100th time.

"oooo, who is that?" Bart asked, looking over to your phone. he read the wall of text you had received but you quickly shut your phone off, not bothering to read it, "you gonna answer that?" he asked, a small bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him.

"don't really feel like it," you quickly said, trying to remain off that topic. Bart, clearly annoyed, snatched your phone and put it in his pocket, "than let's forget about him, right?" he asked, putting on his annoyed fake smile.

Tim and Jinny saw the very irritated face Bart had and looked to each other as they shook their heads, "those two I swear," Jinny huffed out in annoyance. "more like ( your name )," he replied, "Bart could admit his feelings to her face and she still wouldn't do anything about that horrid boyfriend of hers."

the two of them stifled giggles from each other as they watched the two of you continue to flirt openly. it was no secret to anyone on the team. it was very clear to everyone on the YJ team, the Titans, even the JLA knew that the two of you liked each other....a lot but it was that stupid boyfriend of yours that got in the way of Bart ever truly expressing his feelings for you.

"what is everyone's plans after this?" you asked the team as they all murmured different answers, indicating that they were all busy. you sighed, trying not go straight up at the moment because you knew that you'd have to deal with your boyfriends calls when you got there, "I'll stay out with ya!" Bart replied as he saw the empty park bench.

you gave him a grin, "thanks Allen. you're a life saver," you exclaimed, waving everyone off goodbye. you walked to the bench, Bart following right behind you as Bart felt your phone ringing again.

there had been a scarce few times where you did call Bart with your boyfriend problems. it was usually late at night. probably inching near three in the morning when you called him sobbing, asking him if you deserved to go through the bullshit you were dealing with your boyfriend.

Bart always felt himself getting angry whenever he received those calls. you sounded so heartbroken, tired, and emotional. he was always there to help pick you back up but not even a few days later, you were back with him, telling Bart that your boyfriend needed you now more than ever.

"he's still angry that you're hanging out with me? do you want me to hurt him?" he asked, finally taking your phone out of your pocket. you nodded, rolling your eyes, "Bart no. he thinks that my 'job' is taking too much time away from him and I being together. I swear, it's like hearing a broken record. one minute, he's mad and wants to break up and the next second, he's at my door asking for forgiveness," you explained, frustrated.

Bart squeezed your hand, tapping his fingers on top yours, "you know what you need to do," he replied, giving you a serious look. you stared at him, biting your lip, "it's hard, Bart. he's going through a lot and I'll feel guilty if I just leave him," you whispered taking his hand and holding it.

"you literally fight villains for a living and you're scared of that? you know you deserve more," Bart said, "and I've seen the way you look at other girls who decide to flirt with me," he joked, trying to break the tension. "shut up, it's not even like that," you lied, making Bart even laugh more. "but seriously, you know it's not secret that I like you." you sighed, not knowing what to say as you put your head on his shoulder.

the silence wasn't exactly awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. there had been multiple times when Bart had told you his true feelings for you and every time he did, you responded with a hum or a 'okay Bart'.

it wasn't that you didn't accept his true feelings. it was far from that. you actually did like the speedster but you knew Bart could do a lot better. you knew Bart deserved someone who actually deserved him and that person wasn't you. you weren't as cute or funny as he was. he deserved someone like Cassie. smart, funny, and cute.

the YJ tower was completely empty aside from you and Bart. everyone was out doing their own thing. Tim and Connor were at their respective homes. Jinny and Amethyst were out doing god knows what meanwhile Keli and Cassie had gone to the movies to watch a film they both had been dying to see so that just left you and Bart in the lair to do as you pleased.

"Bart, hand me the remote," you said lazily. he handed it to you as you turned it off, getting up and stretching yourself out. Bart stared at you confused, "why'd you turn it off? I was watching that!" he exclaimed. you threw the remote across the couch and getting him up, "lets do something productive and make dinner or something," you replied enthusiastically.

Bart rolled his eyes but got up nonetheless. he followed you to the kitchen as you played music through the speakers that were built on the wall. "what're you making?" he asked, seeing you take out things that made no sense.

you looked over your options and realized you could make some kind of stew or a soup of some kind. "beef and gravy stew! we have enough things to make enough for the team and seconds for the both of us," you said, getting the things from the cupboards and having Bart start to chop every thing up.

you knew Bart was dumb but that didn't mean he wasn't a kick ass cook. there had been multiple times where he had made everyone dinner or dinner even for the two of you and it always turned out amazing. you dumped every thing that Bart had chopped up and proud it into the pot before grabbing a few things from the fridge and making the gravy that had to poured in. it didn't take long but the two of you had to wait until the pot boiled up in order for it to be ready.

the song 'telepatia' by Kali Uchis played over the speakers as you finally turned over to Bart and smiled, "we just need for it to boil and it'll be ready!" you exclaimed. he nodded as you started singing the song out loud. not particularly towards him but a warm feeling in his gut made him get butterflies as you continued.

"you know I'm just a flight away, if you want it, you can take a private plane."

you looked up to Bart, wanting to give him another smile but he quickly got rid of any questioning thoughts and went in for a kiss. you were taken back in surprise. this was the first time Bart had ever put his feelings forward and actually gave you a kiss.

his kisses were soft. they weren't rushed which was ironic considering all Bart was, was being fast and always on the move. you had placed your hands on his thighs as you made the kiss even deeper. it took you a few seconds to register what you were doing when alarms rang off in your head. you had a boyfriend and by continuing to kiss Bart, you were technically cheating on him.

"Bart no, I can't," you murmured, pushing yourself off of him. he gave you a defeated look, understanding where you coming from, "I'm sorry," you replied, going back to the food and trying to forget that you even made the move to reciprocate the kiss. in the back of your mind though, knew it that kiss meant that you had fell for Bart and hard.

"I have to head home, it's getting late and we patrol tomorrow night so I think it's best we head back," you whispered knowing you'd have to deal with your stingy boyfriend when you got home. Bart gave your hand one more squeeze before getting up, "see you later," Bart murmured, getting the inkling feeling that he'd probably receive a phone call tonight from you.

you nodded, making your way towards your apartment. you had a fuck ton of messages from your boyfriend and over ten missed calls by the time you sat comfortably in your couch. you finally dialed him back, instantly getting a bunch of curse words thrown at you for not picking up.

it felt like hours when the two of you finally stopped arguing with each other. it ended with you in tears and your voice hoarse as you had finally grown the nerve to break up with him. you knew for your mental health that it was time to do it and truthfully, your feelings for Bart were growing more and more every time you saw him. there was no point in continuing the relationship if you were no longer having feelings for him and although you felt guilty by doing it, you ripped it off like a band aid.

you grabbed your phone and clicked on Bart's number. Bart on the other hand shifted in his bed, seeing your contact light up his phone. he groggily picked it up, "hey," he said in that sleepy tone of his. you hiccuped, trying to control your tears, "can you come over?" you whispered, the crack of thunder scaring you shitless, "I really need someone right now."

Bart sighed, telling you to give him a minute before hanging up. Bart had no idea how many more of these late night sleepovers he had left in him. he sped over to your place, grabbing the secret key from the back of the broken piece of wood that was attached to your door frame. he opened it, seeing you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and your hiccups still overcoming your body.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you stared at him, tears instantly rushing down your face, "I deserve to be happy right?" he nodded almost immediately, "than why do I feel so shitty because I broke up with him?" you asked.

Bart stared at you, not believing what he was hearing. you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend and he was the first person you contacted.

"because that's what manipulative people do ( your name )," he whispered, "they make you feel like shit for things that you didn't even do. you're perfect and he didn't deserve you or anyone like you. especially you though," he joked, bracing you even harder for a hug. he knew it would be wrong to try and make a move but gave you a kiss on the top of your head and whispered nothing but supportive things into your ear as you tried to calm yourself down.

the rain happening outside and Bart's words were lulling you to sleep as Bart hadn't even realized that you were passing out on his side. it wasn't until you hadn't moved that Bart realized you were not longer awake. he grabbed your body, lifting you up bridal style before making his way to your room.

he placed you down on your bed with every intention of just letting you sleep and him heading home but you grabbed onto his body, sleepily saying that he was going to stay here. you hadn't even said it as a question but more as a statement. he didn't argue with it; however, and he had thankfully came over in his pajamas as he scooted you over a bit and crawled in.

you smiled softly, hugging him instantly and passing out once again. Bart placed a small kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your ear, "you'll be mine one day, didn't I tell you that?" he murmured before trying to fall back asleep.

#dc comics #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #bart allen x you #bart allen imagine #bart allen x reader #bart allen #impulse imagine #impulse x reader #impulse #comics #fics

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patriciasage · 3 years

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Dawn Patrol

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary:

Magnus blushes and he looks at Taako with stars in his eyes. He looks at Taako the way Barry probably looks at Lup. And Barry realizes how fucking stupid he’s been.

[a Stolen Century story - Barry thinks Magnus is flirting with Lup. He's wrong.]

posted in full under the break but you can find me on A03!!

Barry Bluejeans has a crush on Lup the moment he sees her on his first day with the I.P.R.E., but he falls completely and permanently in love with her around Cycle 10.

He speaks the mongoose language with her and Taako like they’re a secret club, and her soft, mischievous smile makes his heart flutter. Barry and Lup combine their expertise of science and arcana, respectively, staying up late into the night drawing diagrams on the Starblaster’s wall. She tells him about her childhood, about how she views the world. She’s vulgar, bold, impulsive, but also incredibly soft and sweet. She remembers what he likes and doesn't like to eat. They play fetch together in Puppy Town and that’s the first time Barry imagines her as his wife. He tells his brain to slow the fuck down; they’ve only known each other for a decade.

When Taako dies for his first time in Cycle 12, Lup prefers to spend nights with Barry in his lab, curled up in his desk chair. Barry gladly provides his company and cozy blankets to her in solace, and she barely leaves his side that year. It’s nice to spend so much time with her, but it also hurts him to see her so sad and trying so hard to hide it. When Taako materializes next to her on the deck as they speed away from another consumed world, she hugs her twin for at least two full minutes, and Barry resolves to do his best to protect her…and protect her heart.

Barry thinks he might have a chance. After all, they are a crew of seven, and one of them is her brother. He figures that Lup might want him, even if it’s just for a night (and although he wants more with her, so much more, he would take anything she offers). But it seems he’s not the only one carrying a flame for Lup.

Magnus Burnsides is a huge, handsome, kind young man who has never half-assed anything in his life. So, when he begins to flirt with Lup it’s pretty obvious. He’s constantly showing off, doing ridiculous and dangerous things to impress her. He attempts to learn more about elf culture and magic, talking animatedly to Lup and Taako while they cook supper. He’s courteous, charming, and brave in ways that Barry could never mold himself.

Magnus also notices how Taako’s death affected his sister, and he seems to make the same resolution as Barry. From that day forward, Magnus always has Taako’s back, even going so far as to put himself in danger to protect the wizard. In Cycle 16, Taako is retrieving the Light of Creation and sets off a trap. Before Barry can even react, Magnus leaps forward and pushes the elf out of the way. Magnus is impaled by six spears. When the fighter appears on the Starblaster with his signature black eye months later, Taako punches him hard in the arm. “Don’t do that again, you big idiot!” There's a stone in Barry's stomach as Lup kisses Magnus on the cheek and quietly thanks him.

Compared to Magnus, Barry feels small and boring and incapable.

It’s not even possible to hate Magnus, though, because he’s so damn hospitable. Instead, Barry resigns himself to the fact that Lup will likely choose the fighter over him. He enjoys her company, tries to keep everyone out of trouble, and finds contentment in this seemingly endless time with his new family.

The Beach World on Cycle 21 is a welcome reprieve. They find the light very early and everyone just relaxes for once. Even Merle enjoys himself as he recovers in the med bay; the others visit him often and begrudgingly help him work on his book of poetry. Davenport practices self-care, Lucretia gets lost in her art, and Taako learns how to surf. But things aren’t too leisurely because Magnus decides he’s going to “train” them to be ready for surprise attacks.

Barry is sitting on the beach next to Lup one hot morning. She’s lying on her back on their beach blanket with a large, floppy hat covering her eyes. She’s resting her arms under her head, telling Barry about a festival her aunt took her to when she was a kid. Barry is trying very hard not to be completely distracted by the sight of her armpit hair, her stylish bathing suit, and her beautiful, brown skin shining in the sun. Barry, in contrast, is sitting under a huge umbrella, wearing a white T-shirt, jean shorts, and a thick layer of sunscreen.

Suddenly, a huge shadow covers the sun and a loud voice shouts, “Magnus!”

Barry yelps and drops his glass of lemonade on the blanket. Magnus sinks to his knees in the sand so he’s eye-to-eye with the scientist. “You gotta be ready, Bluejeans. Anywhere, anytime.” He smiles over Barry’s shoulder. “I didn’t get you at all, did I?”

Lup has lifted up her hat a little to look at them, but her relaxed position is unchanged, unbothered. She smirks, “You’re going to have to do better than that, Burnsides.”

Magnus winks. “Challenge accepted.” Barry feels like a jellyfish blob on the sand between them.

And then Magnus takes off his shirt.

It takes all of Barry’s self-control not to throw himself into the ocean and let himself drown. Magnus has these ridiculous broad shoulders, an even patch of hair across his chest, and his stomach protrudes over his waistband only slightly in that sexy way. His skin is browned and freckled from long days in the sun and his ridiculous biceps flex as he throws his shirt on the blanket next to them. Barry, in contrast, is a pale potato of a man.

He’s ready to get up and leave them to their flirting when Magnus speaks up. “Well, see ya later!”

Magnus hands Barry his now empty lemonade glass and then stands up, brushing sand off of his hairy legs. He sprints across the beach until he’s met with the resistance of the water, making a huge splash. “Hey! Taako!”

Caught up in conversation with Lup, Barry had forgotten about the wizard. Taako is sitting on his surfboard, floating on large but gentle waves about thirty feet away from shore. He’s retying his long blonde hair up into a messy bun. “Hey, big guy. What’s crackin?”

“Just doing some training, you know?”

“Yeah, you got Barry good.”

“How’s surfing today?”

“It’s going off. I’ve only been in the soup a few times but that was early in the morning. Dawn patrol, am I right?”

Magnus laughs. “Yeah, for sure.” Taako has been almost creating his own language at this point.

Beside Barry, Lup snorts. “What the fuck does that even mean?” she says. “Magnus shouldn’t encourage him like that but, eh, you know how he is with Taako.”

“How he –” Barry looks back over at the fighter and it’s like a crisp breath of air enters his lungs. Magnus has sat himself on the sand with his feet in the water. He rests his chin on his hand and watches Taako prepare to carve another wave. Magnus cheers when the wizard stands on the board and laughs when Taako falls into the water. Taako’s long hair is out of its bounds again, cascading over his bare, dark shoulders. As he climbs onto his surfboard, he flips Magnus off. Magnus blushes.

Magnus blushes and he looks at Taako with stars in his eyes. He looks at Taako the way Barry probably looks at Lup. And Barry realizes how fucking stupid he’s been.

Magnus hasn’t been flirting with Lup. Barry has only seen him flirt when they’re both with Lup and Lup is with Taako. And Barry was so immersed in his own insecurity that he didn’t stop to actually observe what was going on around him. Some scientist he is.

At the end of the day, Barry watches Magnus offer to carry Taako’s surfboard back to the cabin. Taako, forever dramatic, convinces Magnus to carry him back as well. It doesn’t take much convincing. Barry looks at Magnus’s pleased and flustered expression with Taako latched onto his back, complaining, and Barry internally ridicules himself for being so dense.

A few days later, Barry asks Taako to teach him to swim. They work on it every morning for a few weeks. It’s brutal in the beginning – Barry flounders whenever he tries to go horizontal and Taako has a tendency to point and laugh rather than help. But they both get better at it and soon they have an amicable and productive routine. Barry goes from indiscriminately splashing to a solid doggy paddle to an almost front crawl. And Taako claps and coos at him like a proud mother.

On the last day of their morning swimming lessons, Barry thanks him and gets up the courage to have an honest discussion. “There have been times where I haven’t been able to hang out with everybody because y’all go swimming and there are times where there’s people I, like, you know, want to hang out with and I just haven’t been able to do it and that’s not a good look and it makes me look like a big nerd and I um… It’s just that— I just, like— I don’t know. It’s… Never mind, it’s stupid. Thanks for teaching me how to swim.”

“Who are you afraid of looking silly in front of?” Taako asks. They’re both standing waist-deep in the water and Barry tries to make his anxiety dissolve. Taako’s approval means the absolute world in this situation.

“I look up to Lup a lot…” he admits.

And Taako is graciously chill. He places his hand on the scientists’ shoulder comfortingly and speaks with rare seriousness. “Barry, you’re locked in and this wave’s crashing all around you, my man, and I— I don’t begrudge you anything. You know, we’ve lost a lot, uh, and there’s a lot more we might lose...but the one thing we do have is the thing that people in love rarely ever have enough of – and it’s time.” This is a side to Taako that he doesn’t show often, someone genuine and wise and openly affectionate.

The wizard’s words echo in his head often – “You got all the time in the world, my man.”

Barry is feeling relieved and grateful as he walks from the beach that day with his sunhat on. Lup will tease him about his sunburn but it will be worth it to be able to swim with her. As he reaches the part of the beach where sand transforms into foliage, something stops him in his trek – the sight of a hulking figure sitting on a rock. It’s Magnus. “Is this another training thing?” Barry asks cautiously as he approaches.

Magnus doesn’t look up. He seems dejected. “No, it’s not. I’m just thinking.”

“Um,” Barry fidgets with the string on his swim trunks. “You alright? What’s going on?”

“I dunno, you tell me, Barry!” Magnus says, gesticulating with his large hands. “What’s going on with these morning swimming sessions?”

Magnus looks disappointed and self-conscious; a combination Barry is very familiar with. He has to remind himself to close his mouth.

Magnus Burnsides is jealous of Barry Bluejeans.

Barry begins to laugh. This just makes Magnus’s cheeks turn red and his eyebrows furrow even more. “Fine, okay, you don’t need to –”

“No, no,” Barry interrupts, approaching the fighter. He places his hand on Magnus’s huge bicep. “Magnus, I don’t know how to - … Okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried. You’re a good guy. It’s fine. I just thought that maybe…” Magnus shakes his head, and his expression clears. “I asked him if he could teach me to surf and he said he was too busy teaching you to swim so I guess I was just disappointed because I really wanted to…learn how to surf.”

“Magnus. Taako doesn’t want to…swim with me. And I only asked Taako to teach me because I wanted to swim with Lup.” Magnus looks up at him with hopeful dark eyes. “I really want to swim with Lup. I think I want to swim with Lup for the rest of my life.” Barry chuckles. “For a long time, I thought you wanted to swim with Lup!”

Magnus lets out a startled laugh of his own. “No, I… I want to, uh, swim with Taako. But I’m not sure he wants to swim with me.”

“Well, he doesn’t want to swim with old Barry, that’s for sure.” Barry shrugs. “I can ask Lup, maybe? She’ll know.”

Magnus stands up from the rock. His shoulders are relaxed now. “No, it’s okay. I think he needs more time. I’ll ask him myself one day.”

The Beach World is a gift they didn’t know they needed. They grow closer as a family. Lucretia commemorates it through portraiture. Lup and Taako continue to be firecrackers, burning bright, loud, and dangerous. And Barry and Magnus continue to stare with stars in their eyes.

Merle, Lucretia, and Davenport make bets.

In Cycle 25, Merle wins.

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cant-blink · 3 years

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Half-Life, Ch. 2

Summary: A shorter chapter, detailing Ghidorah trying his best to fight against the mind-control.

He knew this day was coming.

In the back of his mind, he knew. All this time, no matter the annoyance this half-life caused him, he avoided a fight. Every fiber of his being, every instinct, urged him to kill this creature every second of the day. The crescent moons on his heads, so good at detecting even the smallest trace of life, now served to add to the annoyance. Frustration is not an emotion he felt often, but there’s nothing more infuriating than a life he can’t kill.

Very few received the exception from his “death to all” game. The first one that came to mind are the creatures of Earth. While he is easily able to defeat any one of the kaiju inhabitants, they had a nasty habit of ganging up on him. He only had to visit the world once to know it wasn’t worth coming back.

But rather, he would prefer to never come back, because so many races seem to have their sights set on that mudball of a planet and were intent on using HIM as their method of assault. He hated it, he hated them. Any race that dared to try and control him, he made it his personal mission to exterminate every last trace of them! A vain attempt to rectify the humiliation he had to endure. Killing them all was the easy part; the difficulty comes in forgetting. Forgetting that, at any moment, he can be taken advantage of again.

He was never able to forget.

He was never able to forget this half-life’s contribution to one of those incidents. He will never forgive, no matter what this cyborg did for him. He wanted NOTHING to do with this stupid creature, and yet, it would follow him.

No matter where he went, this half-life would follow. Didn’t matter how fast Ghidorah flew, the creature matched that speed. Even if he managed to lose him, the cyborg would always find him again. And now, he understood how.

There really was no escaping this fate, was there?

The seething anger and hatred grew tenfold at the thought, at the sight of the idiot half-life glowering over him triumphantly. It was getting hard to focus, but those words... Those words of him being nothing but a pawn penetrated his mind and gave him that focus. He was nobody’s pawn. This isn’t over, not yet...

It took strength to Gravity Beam straight into the half-life’s face, knocking him over and off of him. Pain erupts from his wounds as he righted himself, and his legs felt unstable as a dizzy feeling takes him. He wanted so badly to kill the cyborg, but he knew he was in no condition to do so. Instead, he kicked off into the air and fled.

The chip’s grip was growing, sending more convulsions through his neck and shoulders and almost having him lose grip of the air. He had to keep his concentration; he’s been through this enough to know that he had to stay conscious, fight blacking out. The moment he falls into the darkness, it would all be over...

Every one of his senses was going hay-wire. His horns struggled to keep his sense of balance straight, and he had no idea where he was going. His crests gave false readings of life. Giant lifeforms far larger than any he’s ever sensed before chased him, haunting him. But there was nothing there.

The chip has claimed the three brains in his heads. Gone was his sense of rationality, causing great fear of those imaginary monsters chasing him. Gone was his ability to make logical decisions, his body now rendered by pure instinct.

And an immeasurable desire to kill.

His chest housed a fourth brain, one designed solely for his prey-drive, for the murderous impulses that dictated his purpose. Now without the three head brains to focus those instincts into something productive, he wanted to kill everything in sight. Even the rocks below him weren’t safe, his malfunctioning crests convincing him they were all alive. Worse yet, the murderous impulses were even directed between the three heads.

The middle head especially was targeted, as the source of the pain.

The two side heads bit into the middle head. Get rid of the pain, make it stop. The pain was growing as those fangs dug into the scales and fur. Rip it all off, rip the whole head off! Without a sense of logic, the dragon was now failing to understand that doing such a thing would kill him. Thankfully, the need to kill faded as the fourth brain was rendered unconscious.

His jaws went slack and his wings gave out, as the chip’s grip over his fifth and final brain grew. That one was located in the lower part of his abdomen and allowed control of his body; so massive he was that he needed an entire brain dedicated solely to the task. More spasms overtook him, as he crashed into the ground.

This was it, the end of the line. Even with his best efforts, it was all hopeless.

The last thing he saw was the half-life, homing in on him. He heard the disgusting creature land close-by.

Then...

Nothing.

Gigan was wise to keep his distance, as he watched the dragon’s body stiffen for a few seconds before convulsing wildly. His legs kicked, his tails thrashed, releasing the poisonous gasses contained in the barbed pouches at their ends. The poison gas didn’t concern the cyborg, his system will filter that out easily. No, he was more wary of the thrashing.

It was a full-on seizure, foam erupting from all three of those mouths. A gravity beam or two would also erupt from a mouth randomly and uncontrollably, as his chest muscles were no doubt spasming over the energy sacs.

He’s seen this process once before, but he didn’t remember it lasting this long or being this intense. He wondered if he perhaps struck too hard, damaged the chip and now it was doing irreversible damage to Ghidorah’s brain.

A shame if that were to happen.

The seizure was short-lived, lasting less than a minute before the hydra slowly went limp. Ensuring his filters were in perfect working order with a short cough, Gigan ventured closer. Not often he can get close enough to get a proper examination done.

The scales were even more beautiful up close, and it excited him, knowing the dragon was now HIS and his alone. It shouldn’t be long before Ghidorah regains consciousness and the cyborg was giddy to test out his newfound control over such a powerful being.

Each moment was agonizingly slow, and he distracted himself trailing the tip of a claw over those scales.

At last, Gigan spotted movement as a head shifted slightly. Then one pair of eyes slowly blinked. Then another set. Then the last pair. A smirk grows over his beak, as he applied a bit more pressure to his stroking to draw the dragon’s attention. Those red eyes were unfocused and glassy as the heads turn towards him.

“Welcome back,” he gloated, wasting no time in finishing the process and seeding his expectations into that vulnerable mind. “I’m your new Master. You will follow every order I make of you. Your life, and your body, will be devoted to me. Got it?”

There was silence for a moment, long enough that Gigan began second-guessing if the chip worked. Probably wise to keep his distance until he was certain tha-

“Yes.”

Oh. Great!

Ghidorah’s voice was soft, sleepy even, but it did nothing to quell Gigan’s excitement. His sails fanned out wider as he snickered, giving a small tap of his claw onto those scales. “Why don’t you say ‘hello’ to your new Master?”

“Hello.”

He did it, for once this damn dragon was listening to him!! It was difficult to hide his joy and even more difficult to hide his impatience, not even waiting for Ghidorah to fully recover from the experience. He wanted to experiment, see what he can get away with and have some fun! “On your feet.”

Ghidorah blinked again, as if to clear his vision to focus on Gigan. There was the unmistakable spark of recognition in those eyes, but the dragon nonetheless stood up as he was told. His legs were a bit shaky, his wings folded down, but he managed to steady himself. All six of those eyes remain fastened on the smaller kaiju.

Gigan lets out another chuckle. So many ideas flowed through his head, and he wanted to jump into all of them so badly. But no, let’s take this one step at a time, nice and slow. Not like the wyvern was going to go anywhere anytime soon, so he could enjoy himself a bit before-

“I hate you,” Ghidorah hissed with venom. “I hate you so much. When I break free, I’m going to kill you like the rest.”

“Oh?” Gigan started, his confidence not at all wavering as he moved closer. Using a claw to hook around the neck of the middle head, he pulled that face down closer to his own. Ghidorah lets out a growl, but there was no actual physical resistance to the action. He really was completely helpless here, and Gigan reveled in it as he continued. “Too bad you will never get the chance. You’re mine...”

His toothed beak met with the golden snout of his new slave, mocking him with the gesture. There was another growl, which brings another cackle from the cyborg. “Now... say, ‘I forgive you’.”

Oh, the amount of satisfaction he felt giving that order. It only got better as the dragon’s growls gave way to those words.

“I forgive you.”

There was no hesitation in saying that, which only seemed to make the dragon angrier. Which in turn, only fueled Gigan’s glee and excitement. “You can’t even fight against simple words, much less what I have in store just for you...”

The growling returned, this time louder. No doubt, the dragon dreaded the horror that laid ahead. And horror indeed, as Gigan’s smirk widened, leaning closer and...

“We’re going to the bar. Now.”

With that announcement, Gigan lets go of the hydra’s head. He turned and walked away a couple of steps before flattening his sails and taking off into the air. He glanced behind him at the dragon, those red eyes still boring into him before those massive wings spread open.

It took a few flaps to take off, Ghidorah visibly in pain as he does so from his injuries. But despite the pain, he has no choice but to follow. And Gigan will make sure that he will never have a choice in anything ever again.

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #gigan #gigadorah #godzilla

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

Chemical Reaction (18/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~6900 words, teen

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AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

James was shaking. It was like he hadn’t eaten in too long and his blood sugar dropped too low and his body started rebelling against him until he gave it nourishment.

Only this was worse. Much, much worse. He was dizzy and nauseated and crippled with grief.

How had the night gone so wrong? They’d been having fun at the Phillies game, hadn’t they? They’d been laughing and lighthearted, and were so exhausted that they’d been a few minutes away from collapsing into bed together.

Then he’d gone and snooped through Rose’s mail. He should have ignored the letter. He should have asked her what it was, and asked why Jimmy had contacted her.

Would she have told the truth?

He hated that he had to ask that question, and he hated even more that he didn’t have a definitive answer.

His body moved on autopilot down the many flights of stairs of Rose’s building, not entirely aware of his surroundings. It was a miracle he didn’t trip down the steps and break his neck, considering he couldn’t quite feel his feet. He couldn’t feel much of anything apart from the heavy, aching pressure in his chest and the acid roiling in his gut.

James slipped into his dark car, which was still warm from the drive to her flat. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Rose, holding Rose, snuggling Rose in bed as they drifted to sleep.

Instead, here he was. About to drive home. Alone.

A break. Rose wanted a break. Because he had been such an insensitive arsehole.

But so was she.

Every insecurity he’d shared with Rose, every heartbreaking moment of the aftermath of his parents’ death… had Rose not wanted to hear about any of them? He felt stupid—so stupid—for baring so much of his soul to her without realizing she wasn’t reciprocating. How had he ever thought the nuggets of information she’d dropped for him constituted reciprocity? She had put in the bare minimum of emotional effort, giving him just enough that their communication felt like a two-way street. Did she know what she was doing? Had this been her plan all along? Get him comfortable and familiar with her so he would fall utterly in love with her? So he would have sex with her? Was that all she had been after this whole time? Had she taken advantage of his inexperience and banked on him not realizing she wasn’t putting in as much effort as he was?

His shoulders shook as he wept into his hands, those ugly, nasty thoughts eating away at his mind until he couldn’t think of anything else. He didn’t want to believe that about Rose. These last four months with her had been nothing short of bliss. He’d never connected with anyone as much as he had with Rose. He was desperate to believe that what they’d had was real. It had to be real. It hurt too much for it all to have been nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the dark before his tears stopped enough for him to turn his car on. The engine growled to life, and the time 12:03 flashed blue in his eyes. Had it only been twenty minutes since he had first pulled up to Rose’s flat? How had twenty minutes completely destroyed the last seven months of their friendship and relationship?

His vision blurred again with fresh tears, but he impatiently rubbed them away to put his car in gear and drive off down the deserted street.

It probably should have bothered him that he didn’t remember driving. Anything could have happened. He could have run every single stop light, could have hit anything or anyone. But he was suddenly home, pulling into his dark driveway sometime later. His house was equally dark. He hadn’t left any lights on because he hadn’t expected to come back here tonight.

The house was dead silent. Not even his cats could deign to greet him. He toed off his shoes by the front door then plopped his keys and wallet into the dish on the cabinet beside it.

“Pip?” he croaked, voice raspy from all the tears he’d shed. “Merry? Gollum?”

There was a tiny chirp from the living room—Pippin and Merry were curled together on the sofa. James frowned. They usually slept in his bed, even on the nights he didn’t come home. He stepped over to them and gave them each a few chin scritches, but they were too drowsy to do much other than purr lightly.

“Where’s Gollum, eh?” he asked them, glancing around the living room. The Siamese wasn’t in the cat tree, or anywhere in sight. After the night he’d had, it would be his luck if Gollum had crawled off somewhere and died.

Whatever. He would look for him in the morning. James wanted nothing more than to strip down to his pants, fall into bed, and not wake up for a few days.

However, those plans were instantly scrapped when he stepped into his bedroom and was greeted with the pungent, acrid odor of ammonia. A huge, reeking damp spot sat in the middle of his bed.

“God-fucking-dammit!” he shouted, kicking his bed frame.

He cried out and hopped on one foot as his toes burned in agony. His anger surged. Anger at himself, for jumping to conclusions and making too many accusations; anger at Rose, for keeping all of her secrets; anger at Jimmy, for everything he’d done to Rose; anger at his cat, for weeing on his bed when all he wanted to do was sleep and not wake up for a very long time.

James sank onto the edge of his bed—far away from the urine stain—his tears starting up again in earnest. He wanted Rose, and he hated that he wanted her. She had broken his heart more thoroughly than anyone ever had before, yet he still loved her. God, did he love her.

Was that wrong of him though? Was it unhealthy that he wanted her, wanted to make up with her, after everything they’d said that night? Could they even make up from something like this?

He hoped they could. He hoped they could find some sort of middle ground. What that middle ground looked like, he didn’t know; his brain was too foggy with exhaustion and grief to think about possible resolutions and compromises they could make.

Something vibrated against his thigh. Sniffling and wiping his sleeve across his running nose, James fished his mobile out of his pocket. A new message from Rose.

Did you make it home okay?

He wanted to reply, “What do you care?” but curbed the impulse. That wasn’t fair. If she’d had to drive home at midnight after the argument they’d just had, he would want to know she was safe.

“Yeah,” is all he sent.

Okay. Glad to hear it. Sleep well James.

“Fat fucking chance,” he muttered to his phone, and instead typed out, “Yeah. You too.”

He set his phone face-down on the mattress beside him and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. A throbbing headache was beginning behind his brow. He would love nothing more than to sleep soundly and dreamlessly, but knew that his brain wouldn’t shut down enough for him to get any restful sleep.

Besides, it’s not like his bed was in any sort of state to be slept in.

With a groan, James pushed himself to his feet and tucked his phone into his pocket. He ripped off all the layers of his bedding, cursing when he saw they were soaked down to the mattress cover. Had Gollum held his bladder all goddamn day so he could piss right through everything?

He carried the stinking pile of sheets and blankets to his laundry room and settled in for a long night of washing. He stuffed the duvet into his washer—glad this home used to belong to a single mother of three who had invested in a giant washing machine, and left it behind when she’d moved out—and dumped in two detergent pods before programming a long, hot wash cycle. He then took the rest of his blankets to his kitchen sink.

The sight of two days’ worth of dirty dishes made him want to throw them all against a wall—broken dishes didn’t need to be cleaned. However, the mess of broken dishes would be more taxing. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out noisily as he dropped his sheets onto the floor and loaded everything into the dishwasher.

When the sink was empty, he grabbed his blankets and gave them all an individual rinse to hopefully keep the cat urine stain from setting.

It took nearly two dryer cycles for his duvet to be completely dry, and then another two loads of laundry before the rest of his blankets and sheets were clean. To his relief, all traces of cat urine odor were gone.

It was the dead of night by the time he made his bed; if he fell asleep right now, he would get at least four hours in before he would have to get up for classes. Was it worth it to try to sleep? He was keyed up from his middle of the night laundry session and his brain was still too loud. Maybe he should give up on the notion of sleep and try to take a nap after classes. Though would it even be productive if he attended classes?

James flopped onto his back on the fresh duvet, breathing in the scent of clean laundry. He would have to revoke the cats’ bedroom privileges until they—Gollum—proved they could be trusted not to wee on everything.

He sat bolt upright. He hadn’t thought to check the guest bedroom. Grumbling to himself and crossing his fingers, he jogged down the hall, and cursed vehemently under his breath when he smelled cat urine.

What the hell? Should’ve left the stupid arsehole to drown.

Well. He was already awake. In for a penny, and all. Stripping that bed as well, he began the same laundry routine. While that duvet was in the wash, James indulged in a quick shower. The sweat and grime of the previous day coupled with crying his eyes out intermittently for the past few hours made him feel filthy.

The shower didn’t relax him as much as he’d hoped, not when the evidence of Rose was all around him. He hadn’t realized how completely she had insinuated herself into his home, into his life. Her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sat right beside his, her bottles of pink and yellow keeping company with his blue and red ones.

Firmly ignoring her products, James rushed through his shower, lathering his hair and body in record time. But when he went to his pajama drawer, he was yet again reminded of Rose when he saw a set of her pjs in the drawer too. He couldn’t help but touch them, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips as his brain reminded him of all the times he’d pushed her top off before they made love.

His stomach ached with longing. Hurriedly shutting the drawer, James instead moved to grab a pair of boxer-briefs. Rose’s knickers sat in a small pile in that drawer too. Growling in frustration, he grabbed a pair of pants at random and slipped them on before bending to root through his t-shirt drawer. Unsurprisingly, he found several of Rose’s shirts mixed in with his.

How had he not realized how much of Rose existed in his house? How had he not realized that her light and beauty shone through his home, and that she had made it her home too?

Because I loved it.

And he had. He had loved living with Rose, and had been counting down the days when she would officially move out of her flat and into his house.

His tears nearly started up again when he realized that he may never share a home with Rose if they couldn’t find a way to work through all that had been said. No more sleepy mornings spent giggling and kissing in bed. No more impromptu dance parties in the kitchen just because they felt like being silly. No more late-night chats that sometimes carried them into the wee hours of the mornings. No more exploring every beautiful inch of her body and losing himself in her love and pleasure.

He didn’t particularly care about the prospect of no more sex. Brilliant though it was, he found himself more devastated by the loss of Rose’s friendship than the loss of her body. He had fallen in love with her, and the thought of her not being in his life anymore was agonizing. They’d known each other for seven months, and she had somehow become a constant in his life, an unmovable force that he’d been confident would never be gone.

The unknown was killing him. The uncertainty of whether he and Rose would be able to make up. If they did manage to reconcile, to forgive and heal, would their relationship look the same as it did before?

A distant chime from down the hall told him the wash cycle was finished. Sniffling, James pulled on a soft, worn t-shirt and padded down the hall to continue his laundry. When the duvet was in the dryer and the sheets were in the washer, James started searching for Gollum. As irritated as he was with his cat, he was also concerned; apart from the first week James had brought Gollum home, the feline had never had litter box issues.

Drifting from room to room, James finally found Gollum in the basement—which also doubled as an office space—lying on the desk chair.

“What’s gotten into you, you little menace?” he asked, crouching beside the cat. Gollum didn’t react, making James’s heart lurch. “Gollum?”

He reached out and rested his hand on the cat’s side. Gollum let out a noise between a chirp and a growl.

“Thought you were dead for a minute. What on Earth is your problem, buddy? Are you not feeling well? Is the litter box not clean enough for you? Are you trying to make my shitty day even more shitty?” James sighed, and stroked the top of Gollum’s head. “I’ll call the vet when they open. In the meantime, try not to wee on anything else, yeah?”

Gollum huffed out a breath, then closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

The rest of the night passed listlessly for James. When he wasn’t switching over laundry, he worked on cleaning his house from top to bottom. Anything to keep his mind busy and away from Rose, because otherwise all he could think about was the way he’d raised his voice and talked over her, the way he’d suggested she wasn’t as invested in their relationship as he was, the way she’d sobbed and hugged herself and flinched away from him. And all of that was something he definitely didn’t want to think about.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the distant horizon by the time he’d finished. His house was immaculate. There was not a scrap of unclean fabric anywhere, what with him moving on to washing his clothes and the various towels and blankets strewn around his home.

His eyes burned with exhaustion, and he thought he might be able to get some sleep. He preemptively filled his cats’ food dishes so that they wouldn’t barge into his room in an hour to demand breakfast, then he went into his bedroom and crawled beneath his sheets. Before settling in to try to sleep, he shot off a series of short emails to his various professors, letting them know he wouldn’t be in class that day, and he would arrange with some of his classmates to get their notes. That task finished, James silenced his phone and set it on the nightstand, then tugged his sheets up to his ears.

He hadn’t realized that his bed had begun to smell like Rose until he was surrounded by the scent of laundry detergent rather than her subtle floral aroma. With an intensity that stole his breath away, he was aware of how much he missed Rose. Missing her hurt almost as much as their fight did, because despite everything that had happened, he remained desperately in love with her. He knew that he would do just about anything to try to make things right with Rose, if she would let him. He hoped she would.

That train of thought kept him from getting much sleep. His mind kept replaying their argument over and over again, and it kept coming up with new rebuttals and explanations he wished he could have said instead of losing his temper.

It was ten o’clock by the time James gave up on the idea of getting any more rest. He felt worse now than he had when he’d collapsed into bed four hours ago. Bleary-eyed, James stumbled to the kitchen to begin a pot of coffee. While it brewed, he went to check on Gollum. His food dish beneath his cat tree was full, and the cat himself had barely moved from his position on the office chair.

“All right, bud. Vet time,” James murmured, stroking Gollum’s forehead and cheeks.

He went back upstairs for his phone, and placed a call to the veterinarian’s office. There were no available in-person appointments, but they told James he could drop the cat off with them and they would take some blood and urine samples from Gollum throughout the course of the day.

James didn’t feel particularly good about dropping his sick cat off and leaving him alone, but the alternative was waiting a few days for an open appointment. He thanked the vet tech and said he would be by with his cat within the hour.

With a sigh, James pulled on some clothes, poured coffee into a travel thermos, and managed to get Gollum into his carrier with minimal fuss. Gollum loathed being in a car carrier, and often yowled and growled for the entire duration until he was set free again; the fact that he remained utterly silent and unmoving was testament to the fact he felt poorly.

The drive to the vet’s clinic was unremarkable, as was the transfer of his cat into their care. He confirmed his contact information, and thanked them for being able to take Gollum so quickly.

Since he was already out and about, James stopped by a nearby Walmart for his monthly supply run. He hadn’t thought to bring a list along on what he had assumed would be a quick stop at the vet’s, so he tried his best to remember everything he needed.

He was about to head to the front registers when a display of vibrant colors caught his eye. Paint swatches.

Hmm. Been meaning to repaint my bedroom.

Pulling his shopping cart to the side, James grabbed a booklet and began leafing through for some palette ideas. Currently, his walls were boring off-white, which hadn’t really bothered him before. He always assumed he would eventually get around to repainting, but after nearly two years of living there, everything was the same as when he’d moved in.

No time like the present.

He spent the next half hour poring over paint colors and mentally mapping the colors onto his bedroom walls. He frequently found himself wondering whether Rose would like a certain color, before he shut down that train of thought; it always came back, though. For the past several months, Rose was never more than half a thought away. Despite their current situation, that was a hard habit to break.

In the end, he decided on an eggshell-finish steel blue color that could have passed for gray. A nice, cool, neutral shade (and, despite his best efforts, he was sure Rose would like it too). He added a soft white for his ceiling and a sharp white glossy paint to his order to touch up the trim and crown molding. With his new paint cans in tow, he moved to the next aisle for paint rollers and brushes, protective cloth canvas, tape, a paint tray, and any other painting accoutrements he could find.

On his way home, he stopped by a fast-food drive-thru for a burger and an order of fries. His cholesterol was probably not pleased with him, considering he’d eaten a cheesesteak and fries for dinner the night before, but he ultimately decided to hell with his cholesterol.

It was noontime when he finished his lunch, and he hopped right in with his painting project. It took him an hour to move all of his furniture to the middle of the room, and to unhang the various decorations on his walls. Not sure how long the painting would take, James shifted his entire dresser into his spare bedroom, where he figured he would sleep for the next night or two until the project was finished.

The soothing, repetitive movements of painting were cathartic, which is more than James could have hoped for. It took a fair amount of concentration, especially to make sure he didn’t drip paint where it didn’t belong. He enjoyed cutting in the corners and edges of his walls using one of the small brushes he’d bought, but he didn’t like using the broad paint roller to cover large areas. That was an easy and mindless task, which meant his brain could go back to Rose. And that was definitely not where he wanted his brain to go.

How much longer would his memory replay their fight for him? How long would it take before he stopped thinking about everything he could have and should have said differently? And how long was this break of theirs going to last?

Several times, he had been tempted to take photographs of his bedroom and send them to Rose. A tiny little olive branch, maybe. But no, that was stupid. That would look like he didn’t care about or didn’t want to address their fight.

He still took photos, though, wanting a before and after comparison for his own memories.

He was about to move on to the last wall of his bedroom when the vet called with an update on Gollum. When his phone had rung, his heart had jumped into his throat; he hadn’t been sure whether he was hoping or dreading to see Rose’s name. The crushing disappointment he felt gave him his answer. It took everything he had to not dismiss the call and instead phone Rose, desperate to speak with her and start mending whatever broke between them.

However, he had a duty to his cat, and so he accepted the vet’s call. Gollum, it turned out, had a rather severe urinary tract infection. The vet wanted to keep him overnight to start him on an aggressive antibacterial regimen, and to give him intravenous fluids because the cat was dangerously dehydrated.

The guilt nearly overwhelmed James. He hadn’t realized Gollum hadn’t been drinking or acting any differently; if the cat hadn’t wee’d on the beds, James wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. The vet tech, seeming to sense his distress, assured him that UTIs could frequently get overlooked, but that Gollum should make a full recovery.

“We anticipate you’ll be able to pick him up in a day or two.”

“Great, thanks,” James breathed. “Really. Thanks so much.”

The call reminded him it was time to feed his other cats. He had shut them away into the basement to keep them from wandering into his bedroom while he painted. As he walked down the hall, he could hear Pippin crying and scratching at the door.

“Sorry, sorry,” he called through the door. “One minute, boys. One minute, then I’ll bring down your dindin.”

He grabbed the two empty food dishes in the kitchen, filled them with kibble, grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, and opened the basement door. Pippin bolted upstairs and sprinted directly to where his bowl usually sat. He froze when he saw it wasn’t there, and James couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Right here, bud,” James said, shaking the bowl. “C’mon. You’re dining in the basement tonight, and tomorrow. Until I’ve finished painting. I absolutely do not trust you to not brush up against the wet walls, and I don’t fancy washing paint off of you.”

James continued talking to his cats as he carefully walked down the steps, wary of Pippin and Merry who both were winding around his ankles. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect ending to the past twenty-four hours? His relationship with Rose had crashed and burned, then he went and broke his neck falling down the stairs.

Once the cats were happily eating their dinner, James returned to his bedroom and worked on finishing what he could. He worked diligently until nightfall, pleased with his progress and with how well the color looked. However, he was growing to realize that the warm brown wood of his dresser, nightstand, and bookcases didn’t match with the cooler tones of the room.

Well, he’d been planning to upgrade his furniture anyway from the inexpensive mishmash of pieces he’d found at second-hand shops. Figuring he was done for the night, James set up a rotating fan to help with air circulation then went into his bathroom for a shower. Paint flecks spattered his face, hair, and arms; it took quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing before he was satisfied he’d washed it all off.

Once he was clean, dried, and dressed in pajamas, he exited his bedroom and closed the door behind himself so that he could release his cats from their basement prison. Not particularly hungry but figuring he ought to eat, he cut up an apple and scooped a dollop of peanut butter onto a plate, then took it and his laptop to his couch. Aching and exhausted, James simply sat on his sofa with his head tilted back and his eyes shut.

He nearly dozed off until Pippin clumsily jumped into his lap, nearly upending James’s snack.

“Shoo,” James grumbled, moving his cat to the sofa cushion beside him.

Pippin huffed, then walked in a circle half a dozen times before plopping right next to James’s thigh. Absently stroking his cat, James munched on his pitiful dinner and opened up his laptop to IKEA’s website.

He spent the next hour browsing new bedroom furniture. With the light, cool-toned walls, he thought dark furniture would pop rather nicely. He fell utterly in love with a curved, corner-unit bookcase, and with a long chest of drawers that could fit enough clothes for two people. He favorited both of those pieces of furniture as he wondered what to do with his current furniture. Some of it could be repurposed to other rooms in his house, but others, like his bed frame—if he decided to upgrade that as well—would have to be sold or donated.

The ring of his doorbell interrupted his mental reconfiguration of his home. He leapt to his feet and jogged to his front door, cautiously peering into the peephole to see who was visiting him so late at night. A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man had his face pressed close to the door, as though he could look through the opposite end of the peephole.

James threw open the door. “Jack? What the hell are you doing here?”

The other man scanned his eyes up and down James’s body, taking in the pajamas and his damp, messy hair. A salacious grin crossed Jack’s face.

“Oops, I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?”

It took James a few seconds to realize what Jack meant. Then he wondered why Jack would think he and Rose had been in the middle of having sex. Eventually he remembered that nobody else was aware that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. Which made him remember that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. His mood soured, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What do you want, Jack?”

Jack simply stared at him for a beat before saying, “It’s Thursday.”

James’s stomach sank. Thursday… pub quiz night… shit.

“We didn’t see you at Molly’s, and none of us had heard from you. I thought maybe you were busy with Rose, caught up in all sorts of delicious debauchery that I would love to hear about. But you don’t exactly seem to be in a state of post-coital bliss, so…”

“What do you want, Jack?” James repeated, gritting his teeth. His sleepless night had finally caught up with him, and he was suddenly exhausted. His body felt leaden and his head began to ache. The last thing he wanted to do was stand in his doorway and have this conversation with his friend/ex-boyfriend.

Jack scrutinized him so intently that James had to fight the urge to slam the door in Jack’s face.

“What’s up with you?”

“None of your bloody business,” James snapped. “Look, it’s late. Sorry I missed trivia night. I’ll be there next week. But if you wouldn’t mind…”

In a move James was not anticipating, Jack stepped forward and into James, startling him into backing up a step. Before he knew it, they were inside his house, and Jack had shut the door behind him.

“What the hell Jack?” James exploded. “I’m not in the bloody mood for this. Get out.”

“Spill. What’s happened?” Jack asked. Before James could shout at him again, he turned his head down the hall, sniffing. “Are you getting your house repainted?”

“Jack!” James followed uselessly as Jack strode down the hall to his closed bedroom door.

The other man threw open the door and flicked on the lights, revealing the messy, freshly-painted bedroom.

“Yes, I’m repainting my bedroom. Congratulations on your deductive reasoning skills. Will you please leave now?”

“Is there a reason you’ve started repainting your room on a random Thursday? That sounds like more of a weekend project.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was out shopping and saw paint swatches and had the urge to repaint my bedroom. So here we are.”

“Why were you out shopping and looking at paint swatches in the middle of a school day? Play hooky, did you? You know, whenever I blow off classes for the day, it’s usually because I’m having sex. Was Rose too busy? Or have you worn her out already?”

James’s cheeks burned, even as his chest crumpled in on itself. He had done his best to not think about Rose all afternoon, yet here was Jack, bringing her up every other sentence.

“Well, at least I can finally say I got you in the bedroom,” Jack said lightly, digging his elbow into James’s ribs.

James managed a weak, half-hearted snort. “Not quite how you expected it though, is it?”

“Admittedly, we were both a lot more naked,” Jack lamented. “I’ll let you save the nakedness for Rose. Speaking of, what does she think of your sudden home makeover?”

James’s stomach hollowed out, and he surprised himself by confessing, “Dunno. Haven’t told her.”

Jack went silent for the first time all night. James could feel his friend’s eyes on him, but he steadfastly inspected his walls, looking for any imperfections he would have to pay close attention to when he applied the second coat.

“James, what happened?”

Jack’s voice was so soft and so knowing that the backs of James’s eyes prickled. Damn. He thought he was done crying. James sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I think… I think Rose and I might be breaking up soon,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Jack simply blinked at him, his face expressionless. “Right. We’re gonna get some alcohol, then you are going to explain everything to me. Why do you think you and Rose are breaking up? You two are the epitome of soulmates, if such a thing exists.”

James snorted, remembering every hurtful thing he and Rose had said last night. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

Jack clapped him lightly on the back, before he encircled his arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Let’s go sit down.”

Keeping his arm where it was, Jack guided James to the kitchen and plopped him into the chair that Rose usually sat in. James didn’t bother moving, and instead watched his friend go to the fridge and pull out a partially-drunk bottle of wine. He and Rose had opened that bottle last weekend. They’d snuggled on the sofa together and made a drinking game out of watching a cooking show together. Half way through the bottle, they’d gotten pleasantly tipsy and had stopped paying attention to the television in favor of making out.

Jack found the cabinet that contained the wine glasses and pulled down two of them. He sat at the table opposite of James, filled the glasses, and pushed one towards him. James gulped down half of it in one go.

“Okay. Tell me everything,” Jack said, topping off James’s wine glass.

The words poured out of him, from every heartbreaking thing Rose had told him, to everything he had said in return. Jack’s face remained impassive as James spoke, never once interrupting, even though James wasn’t sure he managed to capture all of the details as clearly as he would have preferred.

“I’ve ruined everything,” James concluded, polishing off the liquid in his glass before refilling it.

“No, you haven’t,” Jack said gently. “You buggered it up a little bit. But so did Rose. You brought up some valid points, James. You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who is honest and forthcoming. It isn’t a good balance for one person to constantly be sharing while the other remains a closed book. However, it’s not healthy to expect the same level of reciprocity from Rose as what you bring to the table. Especially when you haven’t been upfront with Rose about your expectations. And where you did bugger things up was with shooting yourself down so hard. Especially as a way to excuse what you’ve said, or assumptions you’ve made.”

“But… I genuinely feel like I’m at a complete and utter loss all the time,” James defended, ringing his fingertip around his wine glass. “It’s like… it’s like people innately know how to do this, this romance thing, and I’m bumbling along like an idiot.”

“Were you insecure in your friendship with Rose? Before you began dating? Did you feel any of this last semester?”

James paused, considering. He’d always had some butterflies when he spent time with Rose last semester, but for the most part, he’d simply enjoyed being in her presence. That hadn’t changed at all, despite their new relationship status. She had remained his best friend, the person he always wanted to be around, and the person he wanted to share every piece of his life with.

“No,” he whispered, pressing his fingertips into his eyes.

“Soooo… what’s the difference between being Rose’s friend versus being her boyfriend? I mean, I assume by now that you’re having sex? Apart from that, it’s not like anything really changed. Is the sex bad or something? Do you not like it?”

James felt his cheeks heating as his stomach twisted. Being intimate with Rose was one of the most special things he’d ever shared with someone. Not only did it feel brilliant, better than he ever thought physical pleasure could be, but it was equally as emotionally satisfying. Being vulnerable with Rose hadn’t been terrifying or overwhelming, but rather comforting. There had been nobody he trusted more than Rose.

“No,” he croaked. “No, it’s been… it’s been incredible. Everything with her has been incredible.”

“Has Rose given any indication that she has been dissatisfied with you in any way? Not even with the sex, but just…” Jack waved his hands around in the air. “…in general?”

You’re everything I never thought I deserved to have.

Hot tears burned in his eyes then dripped down his cheeks. Every kiss she’d given him, every squeeze of her hand in his, every sleepy smile that spread across her face when she woke up and saw him… It all raced through his head, a testament to their love.

What have I done?

He pressed his palms into his eyes

“No,” he answered, his voice raw.

Jack sighed. “Oh, James.”

“I know!” He plonked his forehead down onto the table and curled his arms around his head, tugging on his hair until it hurt. “I fucked up, Jack.”

James heard the scraping of chair legs on the floor, then a warm body was pressed tightly into his own. Jack wrapped his arm around James’s shoulders, leaning into him in a sideways hug.

“Much like having sex,” Jack began, “having an argument takes more than one person. Most times, anyway. If either situation is being done by only one person, chances are they’re a wanker.”

James let out a weak laugh, even as his eyes and throat burned with more tears.

“Rose said some very hurtful things,” Jack said, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down James’s arm. “She needs to apologize and address those. But you accused her of some pretty terrible things, too. From what you’ve said, Rose’s relationship with this Jimmy guy was toxic, if not abusive. It’s insulting for you to suggest she would want to go back into a relationship like that.”

James’s stomach ached. He had known for months that Rose’s relationship with Jimmy had been unhealthy, and that her heart had been badly broken. That should have been enough for him. Did he really need to know every single detail of her heartbreak?

No, he decided. No, he didn’t. However, he would have liked to have known that Jimmy had reached out to her. At the very least, James wanted to know why Rose hadn’t wanted to tell him Jimmy had contacted her.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted.

“At least you know you want to fix it,” Jack said, giving James a squeeze. “That’s a good start. It means you’ve determined that what you have with Rose is worth fighting for. But you need to take a long, hard look at what you want from this relationship, and more importantly, what you want from Rose. And you need to be receptive to what she wants from you and your relationship. And you need to work on your own insecurities and stop projecting them onto Rose. That’s a shitty thing to do, James. You have the insecurities, so it’s your job to work through them. Stop making excuses for yourself, and stop projecting them onto Rose.”

“Not sugar coating this at all, are you?” James muttered, though he knew Jack’s advice was sound.

“Nope. I’ve let you mope for a half hour, but now you need to start making things right. And remember. You can only change yourself—you can’t change Rose. So decide what you’re willing to put up with, because she might never be as open as you want her to be. But also set some boundaries for yourself. A relationship is give and take, and lots of compromise. You can’t keep giving and giving and giving, or else you’re not going to have anything left.”

James cocked his head to the side and peeked up at Jack. “Do you have a degree in relationship counseling that I don’t know about?”

Jack laughed, and took his arm away from James’s shoulders to instead ruffle his hair. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“But how do I start a conversation with Rose to tell her I want to fix things?” James asked.

Jack pursed his lips and tapped his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Have you considered anything like “Hi Rose, I really want to make up and then make out”?”

James snorted. “I’ll think of something else. Oh, and I might have some furniture coming tomorrow or Saturday. Wanna help me move stuff?”

Jack winked. “You know, I think I’m busy. Why don’t you see if Rose is free?”

“Subtle,” James drawled. He then sighed. “Thanks for stopping by, Jack.”

“See, aren’t you glad I wasn’t put off by your less-than-warm welcome? If you want to practice your apology skills, I’ll take one.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we said goodbye,” James said, dragging his weary body up from the chair. He collected their empty wine glasses and set them in the sink.

“A piece of advice, don’t try that one with Rose. Maybe try a kiss or two. I’ll take one of those, if you’re offering.”

James rolled his eyes and lightly shoved his friend out of the kitchen. They’d only made it a few steps when the doorbell rang.

“Bit late for a social call, isn’t it?” Jack asked, frowning at James.

James gestured up and down the length of Jack’s body. “You can talk, showing up here at nine o’clock.”

“Touché. Late-night furniture delivery?”

“I haven’t ordered anything yet. Besides, no one would deliver this late.”

Shrugging, James stepped ahead of his friend to yank open the front door. His breath left him in a sharp, little whoosh when he beheld the person standing in the yellow glow of the porch light, cradling a small, plastic container to her stomach.

“Rose.”

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #university au #angst #romance #my fic #chemical reaction #catalysis series #chemical potential sequel

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ghostyprince · 4 years

Note

How about "You smell nice." for a fluff prompt - DoneGhosting

@doneghosting Thanks for the prompt! I hope you like this.💖

Ryan doesn't mean to mention it, he doesn't even mean to notice it, really. But Shane must have started using a new cologne or body spray or whatever because he's been smelling especially nice lately.

Ryan can't really pinpoint the scent exactly, there is something peachy, infused with vanilla. He likes it a lot though, is the thing. He thinks it fits Shane especially, not to mention the fact it's so out of the blue. Very on-brand for him, to spice things up and roll with it for a while. Like that awful mustache.

When he first showed up like that, to the set of Unsolved, Ryan was admittedly distracted the whole entire time, stuttering through his script way more than he usually would. Every time Shane gestured with his hand, he wafted another whiff of that wonderful peachy smell to Ryan's direction.

It's like it was clinging to Shane's clothes, to Shane's skin, his entire being and it was driving Ryan a little crazy.

It also made him feel kind of creepy. Being attracted to Shane, having a crush on him, in fact, was one thing. But there is no way Ryan would be so deeply in love with him that such a small thing like Shane impulsively changing up his self-care products would affect Ryan this goddamn much, right?

Well, no. It really affects him and it's increasingly becoming more and more of a problem. Because Ryan did try to keep quiet about it. He bottled all that shit up real good.

He resisted the urge to just press his face into Shane's neck and breathe him in because that would be *weird*. The desire to touch Shane's hair hit him up even more often than before too, but that was it, he's been good, not acting up on all of that.

Who is he kidding, he wants to touch Shane everywhere. Not just in the fun, sexy time way.

He is so fucked.

He knows he is, precisely after Shane pulls him into a particularly long hug that week. Ryan honest to God does not know how he got through that situation acting like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn't half-hard by the time he got home later that evening because he could still smell Shane on himself.

His head was swimming when Shane let go of him, Ryan's whole being was filled with how incredible he smells. He couldn't help but wonder if Shane would taste like that too. Ryan knew he wouldn't, that's ridiculous, but a man can daydream.

They were in the process of shooting a Watcher Weekly when Ryan apparently couldn't take it anymore. His brain to mouth filter fucked off to somewhere this afternoon, probably because of the chill nature of these filming sessions.

They're close to wrapping up and he's feeling all loose but bubbly at the same time. So, when Shane leans over him to put his mug on the table next to the couch and that peachy, whatever it is that Shane uses hits his nose, Ryan obviously gets flustered as all hell. Resulting in that, he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"You smell nice."

And to be honest, he said some weird-ass shit both on and off camera lately, getting bold with his very obvious flirting, since they always laughed it off. Shane never took it seriously, which yes, hurt Ryan's feelings a little, but maybe he wasn't ready to face the reality of Shane actually flirting back, or for real rejecting him.

Shane isn't laughing now, however. He freezes for a second and meets Ryan's gaze, still half-draped over him.

Ryan might just feel his lungs lock up, and that is really ironic because Shane is so close, he could have another whiff of him, but Ryan isn't sure he can even breathe at all at the moment.

His whole world halts to a stop for a second, even though in reality it's probably not that serious. And then Shane is giving him this small smile, almost smug like he's been waiting for Ryan to break, there is a bit of lazy satisfaction to it but it's gone in an instant, leaving Ryan dumbfounded, and wondering if it was even there in the first place.

There is some awkward laughter on Steven's part. Shane too laughs it off this time, gives a Look to the camera and breathes out a quiet "okay", before moving onto another topic, easily. But Ryan instantly knows most of his private little moment with Shane won't make the cut.

"You do smell nice," Ryan tells him after they wrapped up the shoot because he can never let things go. And maybe he's too curious to receive a proper answer from Shane.

"We all can't smell like 'Sport' and 'Extreme'" Shane comments, complete with air quotes, shrugging off the compliment.

Ryan snorts out a laugh, but he doesn't want to let Shane off the hook just yet. He went this far, it would be stupid to back out now. "I was wondering what was it. It's uhh very fruity. New shampoo?"

"It's a little something I got from Sara," Shane says, choosing his words carefully, and Ryan really wants to know what that's all about.

"A little something," Ryan repeats, knowing full well Shane can see the cogs turning in his head so he explains before Ryan could even ask the question. Another reason why they work so amazingly.

"A perfume of sorts."

"Well, it's nice. Even though you're weirdly making a big deal out of it." Ryan grins at him, half-heartedly but he can't tear his gaze away from Shane's eyes. Especially because Shane is slowly stepping into his space and Ryan forgets to breathe again.

Now that they're standing flush against each other, Ryan realizes just how much he has to crane his neck to look up at him properly. It sends an unexpected, but welcome shiver down Ryan's spine.

"I think it's you who makes a weirdly big deal out of it, Ryan," Shane says, lips curling into a smile. Ryan's skin burns under his gaze.

He continues before Ryan could search the part of his brain that didn't turn into jello yet. "Do you wanna know why what Sara gave me is special?"

"Why is it special?" Ryan asks eventually, voice scratchy like he hadn't had a drink in a while, like they've been standing there, right next to their desks for ages while the others slowly filtered out.

"You see, she said something about how it would only smell really strong to the person that has a romantic interest in me, let's say."

Ryan's eyebrows climb up to his hairline and he can definitely feel his face heating up now. It only serves to make Shane's smile wider. That's a good sign, right?

"And you out of all people believe in that?"

"No, not at all." He says and Ryan starts wheezing, breaking the moment because he can't help it. Shane holds up a finger, to continue as Ryan quiets down, "But, you were still all over me all week and it would've been entertaining to watch if I wasn't waiting for you to say something."

"You could've just asked me out, dumbass." Ryan huffs, but his smile is bright, matching Shane's. He has no doubts now.

"I could've. I still could, actually. But why didn't you?" Shane asks, amused and it's a valid question. It's also one that Ryan doesn't feel like answering now. Instead, he grabs hold of Shane's collars and he already knows what's coming when Ryan drags him down, still having to raise on his tiptoes to reach Shane's lips.

It really isn't the best kiss either of them had, they mostly just press their smiles against each other, but it's perfect.

Ryan says after, eyes bright with excitement. More because Shane just kissed him, for real, than the magic but it's a close second. Shane sighs.

"You know, I think that perfume really was magical, maybe we're onto something here.”

"No, Ryan, she just got tired of me pining and moping about you. It's nothing but a placebo."

"Okay, but what if it was real? All week, I've been-" Shane cuts him off, by cupping his cheeks in both of his big hands and Ryan has never been happier to shut up as he melts into the kiss.

They can argue about it later, over some fancy dinner, maybe.

#shyan #skeptic believer #shyan fic #shyan fanfiction #fanfiction #i got so many cute prompts #i'll fucking spoil ya'll in the next few weeks #anonymous #anon #answered #asks

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sins-of-the-sea · 3 years

Text

Ira et Avaritia (Part 9/10)

"............Ruixiong?? Are.... are you crying?"

Rui snaps as he wipes his eyes with his sleeves. "I am not!!"

"You are! I'm sorry, Ruixiong, if I troubled you--"

"No!! No!! Not at all! I just- I'm glad. I'm glad I know everything now. Everything makes sense now. Why the Captain is always on the high alert, why he's so short-tempered, why he looks like he's always ready to spring into a fight or so strict about us or always looking out to us... and why he is the way he is around you especially! Why he's protective around you and why he just wants you to be safe even though we're immortal! You're his shining star!

"I.... I am not the only star. I hardly am. There is Phoebus and Guy--Jews he was able to protect from persecution when we met them. There is Abena, a product of the expanding Spanish Empire who would surely have been subjected to the Inquisition eventually had she not escaped slavery. There is even Rashid--a Muslim. Rashid is not an Umayyad--if I recall, Jeddah was part of the Umayyad Caliphate as one of the conquered. But the fact he is Muslim also meant he should have been Josep's enemy. He takes all this so personally, not just as our Captain, or as our leader, but as our protector. So many instances Josep could have helped someone but couldn't because the opposite was expected or encouraged in him.

"It's why Josep was willing to bear the brunt of responsibility for our failures whenever the Master appears--so we wouldn't have to be in the front of the Master's punishment. Why he came to Guy's defense when those thugs from the tavern tried to hurt him for kissing another man. Why he burned down those plantations in the New World to free some slaves. Why he gets so upset whenever we do something stupid that not just compromises our tasks for the Master, but our safety despite our immortality."

"Giovanni...."

"I jumped off the boat out of impulse. But I know why Josep said what he said. He is sad and upset that he can't fix me. That he can't save me from the cellar in my soul. That he can't-"

"BULLSHIT!! He was not the one who threw you into the cellar! He did not bring those Natives into the Spanish court! He did not kill Marta or make those Jewish friends go away! And I am very certain he was not the one behind Carles' and your Papa's death! You know who he should be guilty and remorseful over? No one! Not even the actual person we're pretty sure he actually killed! Because he was trying to defend someone! He just couldn't because so much shit was happening, it'd probably get him killed too!"

"Ruixiong...."

"This remorse and guilt and such is completely bull and you know it! He really should get over himself because he was not responsible for any of this! Why should it hang over his head like it does, especially since this was all 500 years ago?! If anything, he should look back at it and be happy of how far he's come!"

".........Ideally, yes. But he still got plenty hurt. He still witnessed the pogrom that took away Marta. He still had to watch the Natives in the Spanish court be treated like wild animals. And he still had holes drilled onto his skull and forced to undergo so-called treatments just because he acted upset over the literal deaths of his friends and loved ones."

"Oh, that's-.....right....."

"And even so, as I have observed when the Master makes us do terrible things before you came alone... the simplest things can really break a person's soul if it reaches deep enough. A date gone bad. A traveling accident. A missed bullet to the head. A village fire. Certain words directed towards you from your parents. Being betrayed by someone you deeply love. Being part of a war. It can take one moment, one incident, to break a soul... or it can take a thousand, some small, some big, over a long period of time. And when time passes and you think everything is gone and safe......

"It takes a reminder. It can be a place, thing, location.... or time. For Josep, it's time: Summer. So many summers of pain, loss, betrayal, and hatred. All for it to culminate into the year he nearly died on Mactan in 1521. Over twenty years of built up rage towards a cruel world that only wants to conquer, destroy, and expand. Rage towards a dream shattered by storms, mutinies, and betrayal. Rage towards a weak man who couldn't stop any of it or see it coming. Rage towards God, who is supposedly good, who otherwise allowed so much suffering to happen in His name.

"Is it any wonder he followed Phoebus' example so quickly and willingly to take on the Master's pact? So he could become truly invincible? To become...

"Untoucheable."

#antisemitism tw #racism tw #imperialism tw #islamophobia tw #war tw #violence tw #death tw #blood tw #[Ira et Avaritia]#[About Frascona]#[Giovanni Vespucci]#[Wang Ruixiong]#[Midsummer Misery]

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xumos-hoe · 4 years

Note

Hey there boo~~ I just wanted to say that I love all of your work so much!!!! Your work is so amazing!! So if requests are open I would like to request a scenario where the boys are with MC and then MC makes a “That’s what she said” joke (and if you’d include WHAT the joke was that would be amazing🥺❤️💞) and then the boys reaction to it.... THANK U💕💞❤️

LMAO I love this so much & HOPE YOU ENJOY AND THANK YOU SO MUCH🥺❤️

MLQC crew react to “that’s what she said” jokes

~~~~~~~~

Victor

While hanging around his office for the day, he compiled a small list of chores for you to complete because just sitting around wasn’t exactly productive by his standards

One of your tasks was brewing some coffee in the break room—basic enough.

But some idiot had spilled water all over the disposable cups which made the majority unusable. The rest were either soggy or dripping. Better yet, there were no napkins left either.

Victor could handle a little bit of water on his cup, right?

So you picked the least dripping cup and prepared his coffee anyway, delivering it as soon as he was just beginning to wind down with the day’s paper.

But the moment he had taken the cup from your hands, a brief look of confusion and something reminiscent of disgust flashed across his features.

“Why is it dripping so much?”

You snorted to yourself and took a seat with your own cup of coffee, speaking the first thing that came to mind:

“That’s what she said.”

Vic was dead silent for a HOT MINUTE as he thought on what you had just said. You almost hoped he wouldn’t get the joke until his blank expression was replaced with understanding—then disappointment aND even more disgust.

But more disappointed than anything...

He sighed aloud and pushed the coffee away, grimacing coldly when he looked back at you and pointed to the door.

“Find something to do. Or else.”

You cringed at your impulsiveness and quickly made your way to the door, not exactly curious to find out what “or else” meant and definitely not over something so stupid.

But just before you shut the door, a quiet laugh made its way to your ears.

It was almost undeniable who it belonged to.

Lucien

There was nothing that could really explain why the cookies you baked for him were so dry and hard. It was surprising what setting the oven temperature too high could do...

Time was running painfully short, so you rushed off to his office anyway with the...cookies...and hoped by some miracle he could look past the texturel

Or, at the very least, not break a tooth

You dropped by and found him looking over a mound of paperwork, but as if sensing your presence, the minute you had peeked through the door, his smiling eyes locked with yours.

“I didn’t know you were dropping by,” he took a brief glance at his wristwatch. “It’s getting a little late, isn’t it?”

You shook your head and pulled out cookies. “Not at all—besides, I just baked these and wanted you to try them!”

Lucien’s eyes fell to the box in your hands. He smiled after noticing it’s contents, setting the paperwork aside as you quickly opened the box and reached in to grab one.

He squeezed the cookie gently after taking it from your hands.

“It’s...very hard.”

Ah well. They all were. As soon as he bit off a piece, you muttered a low “That’s what she said”.

AND OF COURSE; it didn’t take him any time at all to understand the joke. In fact, as soon as you had said it, he raised a knowing eyebrow and looked back at you as a loud crunch sounded.

...

The atmosphere was becoming unbearably awkward, so you set the box aside and made an excuse to leave.

Lucien let you go, considering the sun was already setting outside—but just before you stepped out, his voice sounded behind you.

“MC. Save your lines for another time.”

this fucker

Kiro

You were responsible for tonight’s movie choice, and unfortunately, neither of you were really enjoying yourselves.

It was lackluster; the plot was weak and even the all-star cast managed to pull off hardly mediocre performances.

Kiro was snoozing away on your chest—he hadn’t even lasted an hour into the movie before falling asleep. Part of his exhaustion was probably due to his grueling schedule, so instead of waking him, you decided against disturbing him.

11:57. The movie began at 9:20–you were surprised it was still going this late and why either of you hadn’t shut it off yet.

Kiro stirred in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible before lifting his head off your chest. His eyes were a little glassy and hooded and he yawned aloud before snuggling back up against you.

“Movie still going?” He stretched his arms languidly above his head before adding, “It’s so long...”

(It was nearly over. Just not yet). But what Kiro had just said made you giggle; and to your suprise, the next words spoken were spoken in unison.

“That’s what she said.”

Neither of you had time to react before you were laughing uncontrollably to yourselves. What was more ridiculous than the joke itself was the fact the two of you had said it together.

You were certain you’d been laughing for over 5 minutes before suddenly, Kiro collapsed back onto your chest and fell right back asleep.

Gavin

You held out an ice cream cone towards Gavin before turning back towards the scenery of the park.

Luckily, he had picked one of the best place to sit; you could point out each of the monstrous loops and hills of the coasters against the otherwise peaceful sky. The distant screaming and roar of the tracks was clearly heard, even this far out the park.

Gavin kept a calculated gaze on the selection of coasters before him. You already knew he was contemplating which he wanted to try next, having already ridden the majority and leaving the more difficult coasters for last.

“Which one is it gonna be hot-shot?”

He took the ice cream from your hand slowly, eyes never tearing away from the view. “Don’t know yet—you sure you don’t wanna try any of them?”

You didn’t even wanna consider his suggestion. There was absolutely no way you were going on any of those death machines, with or without Gavin—just to embarrass yourself and feel sick for the rest of the day.

Gavin scoped the scene one last time before pointing to a specific roller coaster. You huffed and looked away.

Of fucking course he would pick the tallest one. One look and you were certain that the majority of the distant screaming you were hearing was from that coaster in particular.

Sensing your unease, Gavin gave a silly smile and poked your cheek. “Can I ride it?”

This idiot was honestly asking for permission. Instead, you shrugged and took a big lick out of your ice cream.

“That’s what she said.”

Gavin C O U G H E D—AND KEPT COUGHING.

You laughed out loud seeing how pink he was turning and the nervous blush working it’s way up to the tip of his ears.

Either that or sun-stroke

He coughed one last time before stammering a quick “jesus MC”. But thinking back to his reaction kept you laughing more and more, until a passing couple shot the two of you a look.

Gavin’s cheeks looked like they were on fucking fire. He took the entire ice cream cone in a single, swift go, probably to cool himself down, and that made it all the more funnier.

You didn’t stop giggling even after he took your hand and sped off into the park excitedly.

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loyally-unfaithful · 4 years

Text

pairing: agatsuma zenitsu & hashibira inosuke — though it can be interpreted as pre-relationship

genre: crack (?)

prompt: “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a mall jail with you of all people” (23.) + modern!au

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaa thank you 🥺🥺🥺

and thank u for requesting ! kinda nervous since this is the first request i’ve ever received haha,,, you didn’t specify a format ? so i wrote it in scenario/hc form—if that’s not what you wanted, you can send a message and i can turn it into a ficlet (Ф∀Ф )

edit: reposted because to my displeasure, this would not show up in the tags :(

« i can’t believe i’m sitting in mail jail with you, of all people… » zenitsu groaned, burying his face into his hands.

how did he even get into this situation in the first place?? how does inosuke always manage to rope him into doing some dumb, impulsive, potentially life-threatening shenanigans???

this was supposed to be a completely mundane, uneventful, trivial, everyday trip to the mall.

the pantry was starting to look rather sad and it was his turn to go grocery shopping, so he asked his flatmates if they wanted something while he’s at the shops and started organising his shopping list.

he doesn’t quite understand why tanjiro needed 20 pairs of cheap earphones, but he feels like he shouldn’t question it…

zenitsu hated shopping, absolutely abhors it. something about spending time in the supermarket with the monotonous droning of the cooling systems and the machines singing a duet with that same pop song put on repeat just drained the energy out of him. going shopping was just a drag.

but it was his turn, and he’ll get it done and over with.

everything was gonna be normal and ok.

as he made his way to the shops, he’d mentally pat himself down to check if he had everything on him and go through his list again.

keys? check.

wallet? check.

face-mask? check. (not because of corona, it’s just because it’s common courtesy in japan.)

mobile? check.

hotel? trivago.

inosuke? check.

wait inosuke?!

« wait inosuke?! what are you doing here??! » the blond shrieked in surprise, stopping dead on his tracks.

the loud young man would halt next to him and ask him if he’s gone blind/deaf as inosuke has been « following you since way before. »

now that zenitsu thinks about it, he did remember inosuke exclaiming something like being bored at home and wanting to tag along…

regardless, he doesn’t know if he’s more alarmed by the fact that he didn’t notice inosuke was trailing beside him this whole time or by the fact that the boisterous young man actually had it in him to be sneaky.

zenitsu grinned nervously, praying to whatever god or gods above that everything will be okay despite the human sized tornado he has with him…

even so, the shopping trip was characterised by more peripeteias and tribulations than it really should:

they haven’t even gotten near to the actual store within the mall and inosuke has already tried to punt a 5 year old for apparently staring at the black haired man for too long.

zenitsu had to quickly defuse the situation and apologise the very alarmed mother and petrified child as inosuke stood still in his shadow, clutching the corner of the blond’s sweater and watched the interaction, not saying a word.

zenitsu grumbled something about dragging him into inosuke’s mess and returned to his walk to the market, inosuke still hanging on the blond’s sweater.

zenitsu’s mind is still boggled. why does tanjiro want 20 pairs of earphones…?

but he ignored this riddle and took inosuke’s hand in his, leading the both of them to the shops—the blond found it oddly endearing how there was such a juxtaposition of inosuke’s rough hand paired with how softly and carefully he’s returning the blond’s hold.

zenitsu allowed the warmth to ground him and, thankfully, they’ve soon made it to their destination safe and sound, without yet another disaster

the two would disperse once in the market, zenitsu collecting these 20 damn pairs of earphones and go down his list while inosuke ran off to god knows which aisle to go ham on the snacks.

the blond would casually shop when he’d hear hurried footsteps before a bunch of product was dumped in his cart. the raven-haired boy would then dash off again to repeat the cycle. the same cycle that has spooked zenitsu more than it should.

one time, zenitsu turned around to find two piercing blue eyes stare back at him. he swore his heart leapt out of his chest as he screeched at the uncannily realistic boar mask that greeted him.

zenitsu is still recovering from his mini heart attack while inosuke bursts into hysterical laughter at the blond’s ‘near-death’ experience.

the latter has just caught his breath when the energetic young man has run off yet again. zenitsu wants to know where the hell inosuke procured such a mask and who the hell put it there. it’s not even near halloween?? they’re literally in june???

when most of the items have been retrieved, zenitsu would window shop as he waits for inosuke to bring yet another armful of snacks. the blond’s current preoccupation was a hair trimmer. should he buy it? his hand hovers as he reaches out, but then halts it to slowly retract it back. he looks at the hair trimmer again… his dilemma. then again it looks scary, maybe he shouldn’t… his gordian knot.

deciding that buying the item would be pointless, the blond looked around. inosuke hasn’t returned in a while…

it seemed that inosuke had already grabbed everything he wanted, and soon found himself bored in a quiet and empty supermarket—boredom and an empty mall: a couple made in hell, a recipe for disaster.

the quieter of the two has started to make his way to the till when he heard a large crash. he silently hopes it has nothing to do with him or the person he brought with him. but of course it did.

inosuke had dived into one of those ball racks near the toy aisle, the rack itself not looking as upright as it should and its content having spilt all over the place.

zenitsu just… takes one look and pretends not to see it.

he just

walks away

so close yet so far. the blond has managed to reach the cash register and has started unloading the contents of his cart when he sees inosuke with his own.

they make eye contact.

zenitsu knows what he’s gonna do.

the black haired man puts one foot on the empty cart.

the blond slowly shakes his head, half trying to tell him to not do it because it’s fucking stupid and half pleading him to not cause more trouble.

inosuke eyes contained a determination and resolve that not even god can stop.

almost like watching an accident in slow motion, zenitsu watched, petrified, as inosuke yeets himself on the cart and send it speeding down the aisle with more force and a higher velocity than what was considered safe.

surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, zenitsu hears a loud crash and a noise that sounded like a potato sack was thrown on the floor—and he was sure he didn’t just hear it because of his sensitive ears.

abandoning his own groceries, he ran off to join inosuke, who laid by a couple of soup cans, some still rolling anyway somewhere—the stand that held them and the splash zone surrounding area having been reduced to chaos.

the young man was comically strewn upside down on his upper back, his lower half flopping over and folding into himself.

ok ooc, but i suck at anatomy but suck even more at describinf so here’s an artistic depiction of how zenitsu found inosuke

ok bye bye sorry for bothering you

« inosuke what…?!! i— are you literally dumb? »

the boarheaded young man just shook off his injuries and righted himself, unfazed, as zenitsu continued his yapping and rambling.

« monitsu..

– what?! zenitsu stopped midword in his lecture, having long stopped bothering to correct inosuke.

– monitsu, run. inosuke finished as he rushed to make a quick dash. »

zenitsu was just sat there, stunned, when he felt an ominous presence behind him.

he slowly turned his head around to delay the inevitable, offering a nervous and fearful grin to the shadow hovering behind him.

with a pathetic expression and an even more pitiful shriek, he was dragged into the mall security office by a guard as another security member chased after the other young man.

despite having run like a bat out of hell, inosuke soon joined zenitsu in the mall jail.

« i can’t believe i’m sitting in mail jail with you, of all people… » zenitsu echoed, having dragged his palm down to cover his mouth.

he sat immobile waiting for inosuke’s apology, or maybe any sign of repentance.

he waited.

and waited some more.

« at least try to pretend you’re sorry?!? » the blond gaped in disbelief.

« huh? why? » inosuke just turned around to look at zenitsu blankly. « it was your fault we got caught anyway… »

the blond’s immediate reaction was to retort and argue but swallowed down his arguments. he’s fighting a losing battle.

snapping his mouth shut, he sulked in his own corner as the two waited for tanjiro to collect them.

he sighed, it was… embarrassing. but it didn’t really matter that much at the end of the day: inosuke would probably forget most of the incident within 20 minutes of being freed, and zenitsu just doesn’t find it in him to be mad forever. especially at inosuke.

did zenitsu ever mention he absolutely detests going grocery shopping?

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

#zenitsu agatsuma #inosuke hashibira #inozen #demon slayer #Kimetsu no Yaiba #inosuke x zenitsu #inosuke & zenitsu #falselywrites #answer #modern au? i guess cuz the kamaboko squad are flatmates?? so theyre college age #age up i guess???#also the reason why tanjiro wants 20 pairs of headphones #is because od that one kimetsu radio episode #where his va literally bought.... 20 pairs....#if you know you know #i dont ship inozen so idk how this turned out? dkajfka i made it vague so that u can interpret it as platonic or pre-relationship uwu

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dolls-self-ships · 4 years

Note

🎫 here’s a gush pass ^^ feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers

this has been in my ask box forever bc I’ve been saving it for when I have a LOT to say so I would like to talk about himb!!

this angel himbo babey, who I never in a million years thought I’d have any sort of emotional connection too until I watched All Hail King Julien.

So, I never really minded Julien’s character. He was funny and entertaining in the Madagascar movies, and yeah, more of an asshole in the POM series but still had his... I guess “likeable” moments (?) there too. I was always usually pretty indifferent to/tolerated him, until I finally decided to sit down and watch his show, which dropped in 2014 and ended in 2017 (so I’m a little late to the party but sjskslsnsslskssk anyways).

And I had a blast watching it!! Every episode from beginning to end was an absolute treat (aside from some questionable moments and one episode that was defineatly a product of one or two of the writers... “interests”). They made Julien so incredibly likeable, dare I say even loveable, while still being himself! I cannot express how well they did his character in this just MMM *chef kiss*. And they gave him more characters who were equally as interesting and enjoyable to interact with and bounce off of and honestly it all just really worked!! I loved Maurice, Clover is a well-written “strong” female character, Mort was... a choice, Masacaura was hilarious, Uncle King Julien was a sleaze ball but like.. a well written and entertaining one, and EVERY Lemur Kingdom civilian is so delightfully charming!

But I’m not here to talk about the show, this is about the Prince of Partying himself, so here’s what I like about him specifically!!

Honestly I have no fucking clue. Julien isn’t my type at all, at least not on the surface. Bc yeah, there’s characters that I f/o like Beetlejuice and Spinel that I guess would fit into the same category as Julien of “chaotic, but well-intentioned himbo that’s a bit egotistical and trying their best”. And yeah they gave him more sympathy, responsibility, and depth in the show, but his overall personality is still very much the “way in over his head and super confident in both himself and his stupidity party guy” that he maintains in both the MCU (Madagascar cinematic univese) and the POM tv series. But I think what really makes me like King Julien in this is that he has more... kindness. At least more moments of it. Also genuine relationships with the characters around him that give Julien more sides to him which makes a more compelling f/o for me. I also think it’s that, despite the fact that he’s a bit air-headed, he always means well, even though sometimes he can be selfish or impulsive, he always makes up for his mistakes in the end and learns from it. With the other two previous Julien’s, that was never a thing he did, so it kind of took away from the initial charm of him being a goofy and more or less egotistical king (at least for me).

THIS Julien however, has almost every aspect of himself from previous media’s, but added parts that improve him and even excuse some not-so-great parts of him. And I absolutely love it!! I’m still in a spot where I’m not 100% on f/oing him romantically but.. you know what, he’s cute, he has those moments that make me clutch my heart, he’s a bit of a flirt, and I find him charming and likeable, so I’ll excuse a little mutual (or one-sided) crushing. You feel?

Honestly, I have to partially blame my sister for this since she suggested that upon meeting me, Julien would try and put the moves on me like the absolute playboy that he is sksksjsjskssjsk. Picturing how he would do it just made me laugh (because let’s be real, he would be a total goof about it with no self-awareness or shame whatsoever), and from then on I was just interested in what our dynamic would be like.

I am also!!! Not very smart!! So I think we would make a decent himbo/bimbo power duo. He has a LOT more energy than I do, but I think if I tried I could keep up with him. I’m not shy, but there’s still lots of things that I feel awkward/self-conscious doing (ironically, dancing is a big one) and therefore just refuse to attempt, so I think Julien would definitely help me loosen up and not be afraid to embarrass myself. As long as I’m having fun, then who cares? He embarrasses himself all the time and does not give a fuck, probably because he’s oblivious to it, but still!!

Overall, I just have a lot of soft and mushy feelings for this lemur. They’re ambiguous and unidentifiable so far but they exist and I’m loving every minute of it!! Julien, in my opinion, is a pretty great king ❤️

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diveronarpg · 4 years

Photo

Congratulations, RACHEL! You’ve been accepted for the role of GONERIL with an FC change to Katie McGrath. Admin Rosey: There are so many nuances to Grace that I think are difficult to capture -- her voice, her mannerisms are so unique to her but in the span of a single application you’ve been able to give us all that and more. Your plot points make me so excited for what is to come, while your paragraph sample had me head over heels for the Grace that you put in front of us. Veronesi, we finally have our Daly sisters gathered together and we’re ready for them to wreak havoc! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Rachel

Age | 21

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | Probably a 7/10? I’m on my computer a lot but it sometimes does take me a while to get through replies because I am a bit of a perfectionist. Inspiration comes in fits so there will definitely times when I rip through a ton of writing and others where is just isn’t coming as fast.

Timezone | PST

How did you find the rp? | I’m pretty sure I saw a teaser for this when y’all were first starting/again when you revamped but I was not in a place where I had the time/energy to write as much as I wanted so I filed it away and then forgot about it until now, when I finally have the desire to get back into writing!

Current/Past RP Accounts | Whiskey Bishop (past)

IN CHARACTER

Character | Goneril / Grace Daly

What drew you to this character? | Grace wasn’t the character that first caught my eye, but boy did she keep it. I’m a sucker for bull-headed women and Grace’s self-centeredness and bloodlust really drew me in. Goneril canonically is kind of a righteous bitch, played much more one-dimensionally than I’d like; this is where I think the shades of Grace’s character really grab me. She’s ruthless but not reckless, cold not from an absence of love but from too much - Louis Daly’s principessa, first born, beloved, spoiled like milk left too long in the sun of her parents’ affection. This is what intrigues me most, and what I think will be the most difficult part of her to work through for me as a writer. I’ve written characters that are hardened because they had to be, but none that truly chose wickedness simply because they could…. I hope to draw out Grace’s self-confidence and self-centeredness and see how far personal gain can really get her. She’s very calculating but also impulsive; the second she sees an opportunity that benefits her and determines the ends justify the means, she’s all over it. It’s dichotomies like this that really capture me and I think it’ll be interesting to work out all the ways she’s human, despite her seeming attempts not to be.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | These turned into more of little character studies and possible engagements to further Grace’s character than specific plots - I’ve tried to condense the ideas at the start into more specific playable beats that could become direct interactions!

DOMINION: Playing the long game, working her way up to a power grab that consolidates to herself - what is step one? After all, everyone must start from the beginning…

There are three things Grace Daly is sure of: she was born, she will (eventually) die, and that she alone dictates her life. She’ll take direction, sure, but she knows what she wants. There is always, always something bigger, something better, just out of her reach, something she wants desperately to have. Maybe it’s a fault in how she was raised, never wanting for anything, but now - now she burns with righteous fire for that which is denied her: control. Grace is power-hungry and doesn’t care who knows it. She sold her soul to one devil and sold it again right out from under them when a better price arose. Traitor is too harsh of a word; call her opportunistic. If they look down on her now, well. Let that teach them to underestimate.

There will come a day when Grace will rule - not as a right hand, not as the shadow behind the throne - but as her own. This was a right she was born into, and one that she will claim. Her time with the Capulets was merely a step towards this goal, for how better to know your enemy than to have been amidst them? Now, one step forward, she aims her sights higher, looking to rise beyond that which has been set for her. She starts slow. First step: usurp her captain - a thing she sees as inevitable, with his penchant for drink and her particular brand of determination. She’ll do the grunt work, get her hands dirty like the rest - she will continue to do so even as captain, as advisor, as underboss, as boss herself. Henry is but a minor bump, easily smoothed over, easily moved beyond. She knows there is more for her in the Montagues than simply obeying him, and she will take her future with both hands.

FAMILY: What blood really stands between the sisters? How far is she willing to go - what acts against her own kin can she truly justify?

However much she claims indifference towards her sisters, they are her foils, in some ways. The blood shared between them is a regretful thing, nothing that compels her towards compassion, least of all love - still, Grace is reluctantly connected to them in name and in action. In some ways, the three sisters together make one whole person - Grace’s ruthlessness tempered by Catherine’s compassion; Regina’s apathy filled by Grace’s overconfidence; Catherine’s timidity balanced by Regina’s ability to get shit done. They compliment each other and highlight the others’ flaws in equal measure. Each is a product of the other and their shared home, however much they may want to distance themselves from it.

I would love to see Grade engaging with Regina and Catherine, as each draws out a different side of her. Regina inspires a jealousy in Grace that she is loathe to name - they inhabited in the same spaces, took to the life of the mob in equal footing, yet somehow Regina has pulled ahead of Grace, received recognition even without recognition - it infuriates her. Regina is a machine, dispassionate where Grace is cunning, engaged, though they both get the same results. Grace wants to be noticed, to be known, but there is a seductive quality to Regina’s invisibility, her strange innate ability to act just beyond everyone’s view. They are so similar - it seems like they are the same but Grace got oversaturated while Regina got drained. I can almost imagine them as children, Grace acting twice as large and loud to make up for her sister’s quiet nature, a feedback loop that kept them going on divergent paths to where they are now.

Catherine, on the other hand, seems like Grace’s polar opposite, yet they too are so similar. They operate on their own personal moral codes, though the ends their aim for are differing. Grace acts selfishly, Catherine selflessly - both aggressive in their approach, adamant in their own righteousness. Grace wanted a companion once she found Regina too quiet, saw her fire echoed in Catherine, but where she herself grew bottle sick on her parent’s love, Catherine drew it wholeheartedly into herself. I would love to draw out where their codes of personal honor clash, especially as it relates to Grace’s abdication to the Montagues - Catherine’s engagement with the Capulets rests on her sense of familial honor, but what is that worth now that her sister has (to many - never to Grace) dragged her name through the mud? How far does familial love stretch, for both of them?

If it came down to it, would Grace balk at enacting violence against her sisters? Would she be able to watch them die? Could she kill them herself, if it was asked of her? She talks a big game of disconnect, but I think that there is something about both of her sisters that tugs on a long buried part of her self-dedication, one that would make her question just what the means to an end entailed.

BLAME: Shouldering glory is easy, comfortable - what will happen when she has to take on the mantle of blame?

While external interpretations of honor mean almost nothing to Grace, she absolutely must stay well respected for her ability to get results. What would happen if she majorly messed up a job, or let herself be compromised, or something of the sort? If she causes unintended ruin that does not further her own goals? She doesn’t care about anyone’s trust (is there anyone that merits having hers?), but having fallen out of whatever trust is associated with getting results would, I think, really rattle her. Having to prove herself again, and again, and again, because of a stupid mistake, or consideration for an action ceased just a moment too soon - it would infuriate her. Would it turn her to a self-distrusting, indecisive figure (which she’s seen all too clearly in Henry)? Likely not, but it certainly would heighten her scrupulous calculation for her actions. She still acts on instinct, but with an extra second or two of hesitation that wasn’t there before, moments that could serve as the killing blow to all that she’s worked for.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes! Grace has totally made some enemies and I’d honestly be surprised if nobody tried to hurt her.

IN DEPTH

In-Character Para Sample:

When one wants a job done, one comes to Grace Daly. Her hands are dirty, drenched in years of sin she will never - needs never - absolve. She looked death in the face years ago and smiled, sharp, welcoming the inevitable as violence settled itself around her shoulders like a cloak. A weight that to some seems unbearable, crushing them down, is to her an extension of herself, something always meant to compliment whatever goodness was passed to her from her parents. Like civet balances the sweetness of perfume, so blood fortified Grace’s bright resolve.

She cannot complain about her work for the Montagues - being the muscle is fun, in a sickening way, acting enforcer of the laws of the streets. Even as she rose above simple soldier, Grace was not averse to dipping her hands back into the muck. If you need something done, do it yourself.

Disturbances in the ranks, a supplier stepping too far over the line - who better to quash it than the turncoat herself? Her reputation precedes her, in many ways, and more often than not she can beat out the kinks without much trouble.

[ For every few jobs done right, there is one that goes wrong. No, nothing is every truly wrong, irredeemably broken, just more difficult, the wrong sort of spectre arriving before her to the scene. ]

The man before her had spat at her - traitor, puttana crudele, perché dovrei ascoltarti? - so confident in her degradation that he presumed a rank above that simply was not there. What choice did Grace have but to put him in his place, then? This was why she had been sent to him, after all - one too many missteps, just enough hubris to be considered insubordination. A shipping contact, a nobody, someone that never should have registered beyond the receipt of goods on time. He fancied himself something more, and in doing so outstepped his utility. When an ox can no longer pull the plough, carry what is required of it, the farmer does not coddle it in its useless state. Why then should anything else be expected for such a pawn as this? When something no longer works, it is gotten rid of.

Put down.

She spares him no moment for negotiation - what little regard she could have had was dissipated from the start with the smoke from the bridges his words burnt. She does not draw it out. He does not deserve her time, though there is no want for effort. Just as he did not respect her status, he does not expect such savagery from so small a person, let alone a fallen woman, too blinded by his overconfidence to see that she is the knife up the sleeve that slides, smooth, between your ribs. Her first blow changes his tune, but she is better than him in all ways and makes it clear.

Broken, bloodied, he lies crumpled at her feet, a swift dispatching of rightful vengeance turned his words from barbs to pleas, begging for one last chance, empty promises of a return to clean ranks and subordination. To her, these mean nothing. Perhaps words of supplication may work on a lesser man, but this was how Grace Daly gained her name. Ruthless, frigid, no words cracked her polished exterior. Her hands were stained, bloody, and she did not bother to clean them.

One final kick in the ribs. He turns his face to her, hands rising to beg, and something in her eyes stills him. Her patience is wearing thin. His judgement has been meted out, to be executed at her hand. This - suddenly, terribly - the man knows.

She smiles as his frantic murmurs turn to prayer, the last plea of a dying man.Desperately calling to a god that would not hear, spilling the name of the one present. Ave Maria, gratia plena -

Her smile was a slow, twisted thing, sharp and cruel and tight, measured like the raising of a gun - gratia plena - like the pulling of a trigger.

- Gratia -

In the sudden silence she stands, angel of death come to collect. They will get their absolution, she thinks, turning away. But who said this god was kind?

Extras:

Character tag

Aesthetics: sunsets like a bruise, the glow of a cigarette cherry in a dark alley, meticulously organized desks, chrome, red lipstick, steel-toed boots, blood oranges and ruby red grapefruits, stilettos (the dagger and the shoes), silk slips and leather overlay, amber, teeth bloody from a split lip, lily of the valley perfume, to-do lists, silver jewelry, fingernails clipped short.

*I’d also like to request here a FC change to either Katie McGrath or Crystal Reed - I know they have more resources than Valeriia (though her face is very striking!) & also I think they both (Katie especially) look more like the actresses that are faces for Regina and Catherine… I’m happy to chat about this, or have y'all pick between the two for who you’d like to see most on the dash, whichever is best!

#accepted #accepted: goneril

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wazzupmrstark · 5 years

Text

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Eighteen || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: take a shot every time you see the word neck I’m just kidding please don’t you’ll die of alcohol poisoning I can’t have blood on my hands

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of previous smut, use of the word buckwild

What I listened to while writing: the fire alarm from the building over also Hannah Montana

Word Count: 3k

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you couldn’t feel your left arm. The second was that you were completely naked. Suddenly everything that had happened last night came rushing back and feelings of longing, regret, and nausea hit you all at once, making you want to close your eyes and pretend none of it had ever happened. But it had. And soon enough Tom would wake up too and you’d have to face the reality of it together, like adults.

But for now, you could process alone. As for your arm, it was being crushed under Tom, who you could only assume was also completely naked under the sheets that were pooled around his waist. You wiggled your fingers slowly underneath him, trying to regain feeling. You didn’t want to wake him, but you needed your arm back. Agonizingly, you pulled your arm from underneath him inch by inch so that you wouldn’t disturb him, before finally rolling over and sitting up.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from gasping out. Your arm wasn’t the only thing that was sore. Your thighs, shoulders, and core all ached as you moved, serving as a reminder of the night before. Had it really been that long? You tried to count back the months in your head. The last time you’d had sex was well before you’d started this job, so apparently yes, it really had been that long.

A chill ran through your body, making you shiver as you sat on the edge of the bed. You hadn’t realized how warm Tom was until you weren’t touching him anymore. You wanted nothing more but to crawl back under the covers and curl up next to him for the rest of the morning, but you had to be out of this room and at the airport in a matter of hours.

With a sigh you pushed yourself off the bed and made your way to the bathroom. You did a double take at your reflection in the mirror. You were almost unrecognizable. Your hair was a complete mess, and not in the sensual, post-sex way that everyone else’s seemed to be after getting laid. And as you should have expected, extremely noticeable red and purple marks of varying sizes were littered across your neck and collarbone.

“What the fuck, Tom, are you a fucking vampire?” you muttered to yourself, poking at the hickeys. They were going to be a bitch to cover up. If you had known how visible they’d be, you would have stopped him. Who were you kidding, no you wouldn’t have. He was too fucking good with his mouth. You bit back another curse. That was a matter for later.

At the present moment you had to focus on washing the chlorine and sweat out of your hair. You turned on the shower and let it warm up before getting in. Once you were in the shower you stood frozen under the water with the realization that no amount of scrubbing was going to wash away the night before.

Tom was awake but still in bed when you came out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel. He didn’t even pretend not to enjoy the view, but didn’t say anything to you until you started gathering your clothes in your arms to take back to the bathroom to change.

“You know you don’t have to-“ he paused when you whipped your head towards him. “I mean, doesn’t it seem a bit redundant?”

You rolled your eyes and dropped the towel right there as if to prove a point. Tom raised his eyebrows, but didn’t look away. You were too tired to feel self-conscious. Tom had already seen you in your most vulnerable state already anyway.

He watched on lazily as you dressed, a soft smile tugging at his lips as you nearly tripped over your sweatpants.

“Just to be clear,” you said, as you pulled a t-shirt over your head, your voice coming out hoarser than you expected, “what happened last night isn’t happening again. It was a one time thing.”

If you hadn’t known better you might have thought Tom looked a little deflated. But whatever you thought you saw was gone instantly. If you had blinked you would have missed it.

“I believe that’s how one-night stands work, love,” he quipped.

Of course. You’d known him for so long you kicked yourself for thinking any different. Tom wasn’t one to double dip.

“Right.”

You were the one who made yourself clear about the situation. It was a mistake. It was a moment of weakness. It wasn’t happening again. So why did Tom confirming the fact that you were nothing more than a fling to him make your heart contract in your chest? Maybe because the words you said to each other, the hushed whispers in your ear had led you to believe differently. But Tom told girls what they wanted to hear, and that’s why fell to their knees, quite literally, for him (aside from all the obvious reasons of course).

You turned around to look at your reflection in the mirror next to the television. The hickeys only looked worse after your shower and were peeking out from behind the collar of your shirt in a pattern winding up to your jaw.

“Christ, Tom,” you exclaimed in a hushed whisper. You met his eyes in the mirror.

“What?”

“You realize anyone with eyes is going to take one look at me and know exactly what happened?’

He squinted at where you were pointing to on your neck and smirked. “You weren’t complaining last night.”

“I was a little preoccupied,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Tom sat up a little more in bed and examined his arms and chest. “What’s the damage on me?”

You crossed the room and climbed back onto the bed next to him to get a better look. There was a few bruises along his hips and chest, but whether they were from stunts or from last night, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t been as generous with your mouth as he had, so there was little evidence you had ever touched him at all, save one small hickey on the place where his jaw met his neck.

“You’ve just got the one,” you assured him and put a finger to where the bruise had blossomed overnight. He groaned at the pressure and you yanked your hand back, folding it with the other in your lap instead.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to wear a turtleneck?’ Tom asked with a lopsided grin.

“I will if you will,” you agreed. “We could match.”

“As inconspicuous as that would be, I think you’ll be fine with a hoodie and some makeup.”

“I forgot you’re an expert on the subject,” you said, only half joking.

Tom gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and shrugged. “What can I say?”

“Please, please make sure you cover yours up too,” you begged, already imagining the headlines that would be all over social media if anyone got a picture of the rosy mark on his neck. Or god forbid, if anyone saw them on both of you and connected the dots.

“I’m not an idiot, y/n.”

You made a face and Tom picked up a pillow from beside him and chucked it at you in retaliation.

You caught it easily it back at him with more force, hitting him square in the face. “Come on, get up. We have to be at the airport in an hour.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” he insisted with hands up in surrender and stood from the bed.

You watched him stretch as the sunlight streaming in from the window struck his figure and made his curls look nearly golden. He caught your eye and flexed his abs at you with a smirk. You couldn't deny the heat that rushed to your cheeks or the impulse to lick your lips, but you only rolled your eyes at him and tossed a random pair of his pants from the floor over to him.

You tried your hand at covering your hickeys with some foundation and concealer, but makeup had never been your specialty. Your complexion came out looking rough and uneven, but you planned to wear Harrison’s sweatshirt anyway, as Tom had advised, so you hoped nobody would look too closely.

Suddenly, your phone on the counter buzzed with texts from Harrison and Harry simultaneously. It hadn’t stopped going off since you woke up this morning, but you’d been ignoring it until now. A quick glance at the notifications told you that no one had heard from Tom all morning and they were getting worried You popped your head out of the bathroom to see him shoving clothes into a suitcase haphazardly, still only wearing pants.

“Why do you have to make my job so difficult?” you asked pointedly.

He looked up with a glare. “Can you be more specific?”

“You haven’t been answering your phone. Can you just let someone know you’re alive?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You turned back around, trying to fight the familiar annoyance bubbling in your chest as you shoved all your makeup and toiletries into your makeup bag. Why had you let him fool you into bed? Stupid fucking charm. Stupid fucking arms. Stupid fucking accent, and sharp tongue, and pretty eyes fuck. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and gripped the counter forcefully. Sleeping with your boss had been a mistake, but it had happened. And you were going to have to get over it.

You took a deep breath and grabbed your bag to pack and ran smack into Tom who was coming into the bathroom right as you were leaving. His expression softened when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he said, hesitantly bringing a hand up to your face and then running a thumb along your cheek, collecting tears that had already started to fall, “are you okay?”

“I will be.” You weren’t sure if you were telling him or yourself what you needed to hear, but you set your jaw and pushed past him all the same.

You had to be downstairs any minute now. Everything of yours was packed and Tom was... mostly packed. You did one last survey of the room for anything of yours and saw that you had only missed a few hair ties before you were satisfied. You thought you were ready to go before you realized you still needed to find Harrison’s sweatshirt.

With a groan you tipped your suitcase back onto the floor and unzipped it. It was a mess inside since you weren’t the neatest packer either, and you had no idea where it could be. Harrison would kill you if you lost it, but you were sure it was in there somewhere, you just weren’t sure where.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you looking for?” Tom asked when he came back out from the bathroom and saw you digging through your suitcase like a madwoman.

“Harrison’s sweatshirt!” you exclaimed as if it should be obvious.

It’s probably all the way at the bottom,” he reasoned. “Don’t worry, you have it.”

“No I need it,” you sighed. “I’m not supposed to show my face, remember? Much less my neck.” You glanced up at Tom who looked all too amused. “This is your fault.”

“Y/n, you’re acting like someone died, it’s just a jumper.” He stepped over your suitcase to grab something off the armchair and tossed it down to you. “Here just wear this one.”

You picked it up from your lap and unfolded what turned out to be a dark blue hoodie you didn’t recognize.

“Is this-”

“It’s mine,” he said casually. “Just wear it until we get to New York and you can find Harrison’s again.”

“Are you sure?:

He nodded. “As much as I’d like for everyone to see my handiwork I think you oughtta stay out of trouble for now.” Tom didn’t know how right he was.

“What about you?”

He stepped back over you and picked up a similar looking black hoodie from the ground and flashed it to you. “Perks of packing at the last minute.”

You caved and shrugged the hoodie on. It was smaller than Harrison’s, but softer on the inside, and it would work just as well. “Thanks Tom.”

“Don’t mention it.” He pulled his hood up over his head and leaned over to you to do the same. “Looks like we ended up matching anyway.”

You were only two minutes behind schedule once Tom was all packed and you took your last look at the hotel room the two of you had shared for the past few weeks. You didn’t know if you expected to feel sentimental, but all you could feel was relief over the fact that you were leaving and flicked it off from the doorway. Tom laughed and did the same before holding the door open and stumbling into the hallway behind you with all of his stuff.

Even though you both had all of your luggage to carry with you Tom challenged you to a race down the hallway. There was an attempt, but you were still so sore you had to do a weird sidestep thing to keep up.

“Why are you walking like that?” Tom hissed.

“Why do you think?” you hissed back.

“Oh shit,” he chuckled “my bad.”

You cringed with both pain, and regret. “Yeah. Your bad.”

He had slowed down for you, but he couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. Boy sure did have a lot of pride in his abilities, and you wished you could take him down a peg, but you couldn’t.

“You lost it, didn’t you?” Was the first thing Harrison said when he saw you in a sweatshirt that wasn’t his.

“No, I promise I didn’t. It’s just-”

“At the bottom of her suitcase,” Tom finished, coming up behind you.

Harrison looked back at you for confirmation. “Something like that.”

“Thought you said you didn’t have one of your own,” Haz reminded you with a smile, pulling at one of the strings around your neck teasingly. “You know I still would’ve lent you mine, you didn’t have to lie.”

Tom didn’t give you a chance to explain. “It’s mine, mate.”

“Oh.” He let the string fall back onto your chest and pursed his lips.

You wanted to elbow Tom in the ribs, but you had to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. “He saw me looking through my suitcase in the middle of the hallway and offered me his.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Well for what it’s worth, I think you look better in yellow.”

You offered him a small smile before he gathered his things to load on the boat and left you standing with Tom.

“What the fuck?” you demanded.

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you said there wasn’t anything going on with my mate.”

“There isn’t,” you growled.

Tom picked up the same string Harrison had been toying with. “Then why is this such a big deal?”

You paused for a second before snatching it out of his grasp. “You don’t get to do this to me,” you bit out and walked away towards the boat as Harrison had. You heard Tom call after you, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t care if it was your job to stay with him right now, you needed some space.

The airport was completely compromised, of course. You had no idea how long people had been waiting for the cast to fly out of Italy, but it had to have been days, and they were gambling too, since pretty much everyone but Tom had already left. They couldn’t have known he’d fly out through the same airport, but apparently it was a chance they were willing to take.

Tom was gracious, of course. He stopped to take some pictures and sign merch despite security’s urgency to get him to his gate. You thought that he was being a little more generous than usual to spite you as well, since you’d specifically told him to be in and out.

Harrison and Harry had been flagged down to take some photos as well from fans who had spotted them and were desperate to have any piece of Tom, even if those pieces were people. You could tell they were both flattered, but a little flustered. They agreed to go over though and were nice enough to pose with the teenagers for a few pictures before scrambling to the other side of the walkway to where you were.

You couldn’t imagine ever being a part of his life, being so recognizable for nothing more than having a connection to Tom. Harrison was an actor, but Harry wanted to do film just like you and he was constantly in the spotlight because his brother was Spider-man. You were more than happy to stand on the sidelines and be an onlooker, someone who got glimpses of the lifestyle, but never had to partake.

Tom was talking to some kids now, and you were about to tell him to wrap it up when he did something that stopped you dead in your tracks. As he was smiling for a young boy’s selfie, he pulled his hood down and ran a hand through his hair. For a split second it was quiet. Then it was absolute chaos. You couldn’t tell if the fans were going buckwild over his hair, or the fact that he had a giant hickey on his neck. There was a strong possibility of both. You couldn’t hear anything over the screaming, but you thought you saw him mouth something at you.

“Jesus, where do you reckon he got that from?” Harrison asked you, but you were frozen to the spot. You didn’t trust yourself to speak.

“This is going to be PR nightmare,” Harry groaned. “Mum and dad are going to kill him. God, why does he have to be such a showoff?”

“I think you mean why does he have to be such a dick,” you spat angrily, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tom’s eyes searched the crowd once more, looking for someone through the masses of people until he finally met your gaze. You stared straight at him with murder in your eyes and watched in disbelief as he winked at you.

4am uploads aka on-brand :) lmk what you guys thought I always appreciate feedback!!

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rboooks · 5 years

Text

Dimension Hoppers Part 2

Part two of this since I have no impulse control. May be the last one hoenstly.

Again you should all go read the fic C’est La Vie by the ever talented @cywscross It’s so good!

The wind chimes released pleasant twinkling sounds when he pushed the door open. The noise had quickly become familiar to the young werewolf over the last few weeks he’s been visiting the establishment.

His tense shoulders relax instantly, taking a second to breathe in the calming scents of the store, his new safe haven from the many pointed stares of Diagon Alley. He picks up one scent in particular that has his heart racing and his hands sweaty.

Right on cue, Orion hears Hadrian call in a friendly voice from behind the counter “Welcome to Dimension Hoppers. Please have a look around. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

He turns to find his best friend - isn’t that a crazy thought? He, Orion Black, has a best friend!- standing on a step stool. He was attempting to push a box onto one of the shelves, but it wasn’t going all too well, seeing as Hadrian’s hands could barely even reach the top shelves much less push something upwards onto it.

Orion could barely pick up the other’s soft swearing with his werewolf hearing, nothing that would make Father’s nose wrinkle, but frustrated none the less. “Stupid heavy box. Stupid Fate making me short again. Stupid Will, and his stupid long legs. Stupid no underage magic law. Dang, it get up there already!”

A smile quirk onto his lips as he is unable to fight it completely. Luckily Orion was able to swallow the chuckle that wanted to escape his mouth as Hadrian started to hop up and down in an ill-fated attempt to ram the box upwards.

He was fortunate that his friend hadn’t seen the smile yet, giving him time to shove it off his face as best he could. Marlin knows Hadrian’s dislike of comments on his hight.

Will took lots of pleasure in pointing out his height any chance he could because of said dislike. The oldest Evans didn’t seem all that faze by Hadrian’s admittedly terrifying wrath, consistently comparing it to “being threatened by a cupcake with a knife”. (How Will had survived this long Orion may never know)

He rounded the counter, barely aware of soft hum as the Barrier Runes. They recognize him easily, deeming him a non-threat and letting him pass without much fuss. Will had coded him into them a few days back when the store got a large rush and Orion had jumped in to assist the overwhelm brothers.

Seeing as he been here every day for nearly three weeks beforehand, he was far familiar with the layout of the store and after a few instructions, was cashing out customers like a pro.

Orion had been an unofficial employee ever since. They paid him by the hours he worked, and even giving him a discount of “Take whatever you want from the shelves.”

Dad had been ecstatic about that particular benefit. This was the only Wizarding store that sold his favorite Muggle band shirts and he wasn’t shy about letting his excitement show. Father, on the other hand, had simply picked up entire chocolate basket acting as casually as he could while doing so. Hadrian had been highly amused.

“Need help?” He asks taking the box before Hadrian could answer. Since the other didn’t so much as twitch, he knew that his friend had been aware of his presence behind him the whole time. Sometimes that was a bit scary, other times it was humbling.

Green eyes narrowed with a warning even as he steps back to allow Orion to climb up. “I’m not little.”

“You’re not. You just need to hit a growth spurt is all.”

Hadrian’s frown would have made his stomach twist with cold uncertainty when they first meet but now nearly three months of their friendship he knows he’s done no real offense. “Once I hit puberty, you will cower”

“I’m shaking in my boots” Orion mocked, smiling when it causes a snort of amusement from Hadrian. His heart did a little flip in his chest. He tries not to think about the why as Hadrian starts talking about the new shipment of rare exotic hair products Will has ordered.

While doing so Hadrian is already handing over a white apron that has the store’s logo printed on the front without prompting. The young werewolf often compares this to when Dad knows what Father wants without words and the content feeling of Pack almost makes him dizzy.

“He thinks it’ll help with the frizz. I told him it’s useless but he’s still convinced he will have silky smooth hair if he tries hard enough-” Hadrian cuts his words off turning to the door as the chimes sing once more. “ “Welcome to Dimension Hoppers. Please have a look around. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask”

Orion never says the greeting himself but the brothers were nearly religious about it. Will said that his old boss beat it into his head to always be polite even when the customers weren’t. Apparently, said boss never lets go of grudges and he had learned to listen quickly.

Hadrian went along with it but he wasn’t very willing to be polite if the customer wasn’t. (Already he’s thrown out three families after hearing the remarks they said about Orion. Will had made the wards not allow them back in and officially “banning” them from the store)

Orion felt his smile fall, retreating into himself when he recognizes the family of redheads. He had been lucky, having never run into anyone in his school year, just some upperclassmen who had all avoid him as much as he had them. For the most part, they left him alone if he did nothing other then stand behind the counter.

Dimension Hoppers may be one of the greatest stores he’s ever seen but it was still relatively new and most people haven’t wandered in yet. Just a few regulars who happen to find the rare exotic selection by chance.

It may not be the best for business but it was the best for him.

But looking at the expression of Ron Weasely his luck was about to run out.

“You know them?” Hadrian asks softly, voice lowered so only Orion can hear. There is a strange emotion in his words, something that says sorrow but not quite. The Evans brothers sound like that at odd times.

“Something like that” Orion mumbles back. He shifts to stand closer to Hadrian wanting to protect him even though he knows there is nothing to protect from. The wolf in him just felt Orion’s unease and demanded to make sure the pack was safe.

The Red-haired family has dispersed throughout the store. The Twins all but tripping over themselves for the joke section while Percy had stopped before the books and not moved, looking like he was going to self combust from excitement. Mr. Weasely and Mrs. Weasly were looking at the children potions kits while Grinny had dragged a narrow-eyed Ron to the Quidditch section.

The eldest, Bill, was calmly looking over the hair products with a thoughtful air about him. The only one misses was Charlie. He lost sight of the youngest two when they rounded one of the aisles but the store Runes was keeping track of them.

Hadrian hummed in a non-commenting way before his hand shoot out and squeezed Orion’s own. For a heart-stopping moment, the werewolf almost squealed. “Whatever your history is with them I’ll make sure they leave you alone.”

His fingers pulled away and he instantly missed their warmth. Marlin, what did Hadrian say? Orion’s brain wasn’t really working right now. “Ugh. Yeah. Protect. Sure”

Hadrian smiled at him, never judging him for his fumbling words. It eases the nervousness in his chest a little.

The door leading to the upper apartment, where the Evans lived, open then. Since the doorway was placed in a little hall it was kind of far from the counter. It was only because he was watching Hadrian’s face, that he saw the flash of worry melt over his face before it was gone in a blink of an eye. “Will, you need to go back upstairs.”

Orion is used to being surprised by his friend but the command in those words really throw him for a curve. It was the first time he ever heard anything resembling an actual fight between the brothers and it baffled him.

Apparently, Will felt the same way. “Why? I felt the Runes flare that a shoplifter-”

“Will, I can handle that but you aren’t in the mental state to deal with-”

“Mental state? What the hell are you talking-”

“How much for these?” Orion jerked his head over the counter. He was mentally kicking himself for being so distracted by the drama unfolding before him than paying attention to the customers. Will had said the shoplifter rune had flared (though that may due with the person holding the item too close to the door. It tended to happen sometimes), he should be watching them!

The Weasly Twins had piled a bunch of prank objects onto the counter, mischevious glee etched into their grins. Next, to him, Will made a choked sound that sounded suspiciously like “Fred” but was too low for him to be sure.

Hadrian had snatched him by the arm yanking him further into the back before his brother could move to the counter. Briefly, his eyes meet Orion’s, his brilliant green nearly pleading.

Orion took the initiative and stepped forward. If Hadrian wanted him to serve them instead of Will then he would. “That will be seven Sickles for everything together on our Back-to-Hogwarts Sale. ”

“Back-to-Hogwarts Sale is my new favorite words,” Said one of the twins (Orion can never tell them apart) eagerly plopping three Sickles on the counter while his brother placed the last four. He eyed Orion with a look that meant a nasty prank was on the way. “Do you work here now, Starlightkins?”

Orion tried not to show how the nickname, filled with mocking, stung “I volunteer here. Would you care for a bag?”

“Volunteer? Why that-”

“-Sounds very interesting. What exactly-”

“-does one do when volunteering?”

“You manage the counter and sell things.” He puts as much sarcasm as he can into his words, gently bagging the items.

At once the twins stand straighter. Together they say “Sell things? You can sell here? Anything? What does one do to be able to sell their products here and how much do they make?”

“You’ll have to ask management.” Do they know how creepy it is, when they speak perfectly simultaneously? They should stick to finishing each other's sentences that won’t give nightmares. “I can’t make those kinds of calls”

One twin tilted his head. “Alright. Where is management?”

“Right here,” Will says finally coming out from the back. Orion does a double take. Will’s eyes are glossy, not enough to gather tears but not unnoticeable to him. He’s never seen the Evans show anything other than calm friendly, so seeing the man he’s come to see as a big brother close to crying- or as close as he’s ever been- is very upsetting. “What can I do for you boys?”

The twins look like cats standing over a mouse. “We got an offer you can’t refuse. How would you like to be one of the first stores to ever sell Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes?”

Will looked confused for a moment before his eyes light up. “The owl-ordered prank items? I read about them but haven’t had the chance of ordering yet. Impressive potential. Are you two the brilliant minds behind them then?”

One of the brothers beams “We are in did. Care to do business?”

Well, they certainly don’t miss a chance, do they? Orion wonders what it’s like to have that much confidence.

There is a moment while the eldest Evans considers them before shrugging. “Eh what the heck. Sure, come into my office and I’ll hear you two out but I won’t promise anything yet. Hadrian, can you stock the new Mermaid Locks for me?”

“Give up Will,” Hadrian answers sounding normal again and Orion relaxes. Whatever had happened a while seems to have passed. “You’ll never have straight hair. Stop ordering new products that promise you lies.”

“ These ones will work.” The twenty-two-year-old smooths out some of his hair almost subconsciously. The strands stick out of his ponytail even more by the action, making him frown. “Just go do it, you brat”

Hadrian gives him a cheeky grin, patting Orion’s shoulder on his way to do as he’s told, bending down for the shipment box.

The werewolf’s lips quirk when he sees Will shoot Bill a longing look as he leads the twins away. Surprisingly the Weasleys say nothing but they no doubt saw the same look their new possible business partner had.

The grins on their faces are knowing enough.

Once the party of three are out of earshot, he leans in to tell Hadrian. “I think your brother has a crush” He jerks his head to the eldest Weasley who is stocking up on all kinds of hair products as if though it’s going out of style. “Must be the hair.”

Hadrian looks honestly startled before he roars with laughter. It’s the first time he’s ever laughed this hard or this long, his voice gaining the attention of the rest of Weaselys.

Orion has never seen anything more beautiful than that smile so he’s a little too stunned by it to really notice the pairs of eyes now watching them.

“That was almost as funny as the time we went to get ice cream without telling him” Hadrian wheezes. “Do you remember?”

Orion does remember that day, how could he possibly forget? It was the first time he went out with a friend for ice cream.

The two had finished a shift early, the younger Evans famished with the urge to have something cold and suggested ice cream. In their excitement to have some, the twelve-year-olds forgot to inform Will, leaving after locking up.

Will had been in the workshop which was located in the basement testing out new products, specially designed for Cruse Breaking work. It was only about an hour later that the young man stumbled upon them eating at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour looking half craze in worry.

“Empty store! You two gone! With No note! No sign! Not even a verbal warning! What were you two thinking!? You could have been kidnapped! You could have died! And I would have been none the wiser!” Will had shrieked at the boys before suddenly looking horrified. In a small voice he had whispered “Oh no, I’ve become my mother”

Hadrian had nearly snorted his ice-cream through his nose.

Orion grins at the memory. “How do you think he’ll handle us going to Hogwarts next week? Think he’ll go insane?”

“Not with Remus checking up on him,” Hadrian says with a soft smile. “Your parents seem to really care for him.”

“For both you.” Orion corrects firmly. “They care for both of you”

Hadrian tilts his head but says nothing, shrugging in an uncaring matter. Sometimes Orion really hates that about his best friend. Does he not know his own value? How can he not see just how wonderful he is?

Again, the Black Heir swears to himself he will do everything he could to make Hadrian Evans know he’s important. Even if he has to spend the rest of his life doing so.

Secretly, he hopes he will able to spend the rest of his life at Hadrian’s side, be it as a best friend or as something...more.

Mrs. Weasely puts five potion kits on the counter then and he turns to her without fuss, aware that Hadrian has gone over to stock up the bottles of Mermaid Locks.

Her buying her kids' school supplies remind him that in only five days, Orion and Hadrian would be boarding a train for Hogwarts. All the fun new adventures that the castle could bring him now with a friend by his side, not to mention no longer having to stay near Harry.

Who knows what this year will be like. But whatever the case may be, whatever the future may bring, he would gladly spend it by running Dimension Hoppers with the Evans.

#harry potter #C'est La Vie #Au: Dimension Hoppers Store #Part 2 #OrionXHadrian #Slight angst for Will #Yeah Orion is crushing hard right now #Sirius and Remus are beaming in pride #The Evans have been adopted into the Black/Lupin family #Orion's Pov #Will was staring at his old hair #Oh how he misses it #Dimension Hoppers is the magical verson of Walmart #Will has become Molly Weasly #Summer jobs you know? Perfect time for young love #This one was just shippy

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monochrome-monarch · 5 years

Text

Tthis took longer than expected buuut

Guess who finally gave in to making fankids again?

Am I being original yet, ma? Also, Idk how to draw babies so here have hem at their adult forms with little bad doodles of them as babbies

I know, The names aren't the best but they're stand ins until I find better names. Except Alphard. Alphard sounds cool and has meaningful name all over it, dude.

Anyway, here are some notes regarding these kids:

Lepittra

- Name is from the name Lepidoptra, the order where Moths belong to

- She's a bit bigger and bulkier than Mothra and sadly my art doesn't portray it well but still significantly smaller than Godzilla.

- Probably has gills but wings are definitely water resistant. Larva stage likely has gills, tho I guess

- Dorsals, Eyes and Wings light up when charging up and firing

- Might get a fankid sibling if I'm feeling productive or creative. However, regarding her parents' canon children, Lep is sorta like the Megan to Minya and Mothra Leo's Drake and Josh. Still cares about them, tho

- Rather peaceful and keeps to herself. Almost borders distant as she ignores humans and has no interest of starting a cult (however she is kinda interested in continuing her mother's cult) but doesn't mind them as long as they don't provoke her in anyway. Has a pretty long fuse so it's hard to piss her off, though.

- Isn't much to interfere with human affairs and mostly ignores them, unless A) One or Both parents are involved and/or B) Her mother's followers are being threatened or attacked.

- Plays peacekeeper/tired mom friend with her mom but will fight when desperate times call for desperate measures. Prefers intimidating the enemy into standing down but, again, will fight if necessary.

- Mommy and Daddy's Little Princess but they will call her out when she steps out of line

- Loves lamps and other bright lights

- Either fires atom blasts or light blasts, whichever works but will stick with atomic blasts for now

- Can reincarnate like her mom

- Has an unexpected friendship with the Three-Headed Heir with a lot of expected reactions and controversy buuuut Lep doesn't care much. Also is more or less the trio's impulse control. Will still kick their ass if they do anything destructive

Alphard

All Three

- Name is from the name Alphard, the brightest star in the Hydra constellation. Also, the word Alpha is there so

- Is small compared to Rodan and Ghidorah but they're still growing. Derecha is impatiently waiting lol

- They're gonna be three-headed because I wanted to be unique but I added a two-headed option because I was feeling a bit curious

- Strangely, the heads look different from each other. Then again, could be because they're a hybrid

- They either breath fire or gravity beams, might change but will kinda stick to fire for now

- Can regenerate but strangely, Izquierda's horn is regenerating in a slower pace than usual

- Speaking of Iz's broken horn, the three of them refuse to spill on how it got broken

- Can so far only start up hurricanes when they fly but there are hints of lightning there so there's a chance that they can start up storms

- Heads spend more time bickering than doing anything serious or destructive but when they agree on something, they would put their heads together haha and make for a scary team until something goes wrong in an also sitcom like fashion

- Can survive intense heat and is seen lazing around in lava more than once

- Has an unexpected friendship with the Little Princess with a lot of expected reactions and controversy buuuut the trio doesn't care much. Also is more or less her bodyguards(???).

Derecha

- Name is the Spanish word for Right

- The one head that takes after Ghidorah more

- Angry and aggressive, jokingly referred to as his parents' combined rage in titan form. Will fight anyone, even his parents and other heads but he never wins, especially against his parents since his other heads don't have a death wish. Also the only head who would gladly fight Godzilla at the Area 51 parking lot. Respects fighters, even if they lose, though.

- Despite his firey nature, he cares about his loved ones and would fight tooth and claw for them even if he does fight them a lot. Reacts even more erratic and angrier when anyone the heads gets beheaded. Loyal af, however, will follow you no matter who the Alpha is or what the Alpha says. He's never much for obeying authority, anyway

- While he's wild, he does, reluctantly, follow Centro's orders but will gleefully participate when Centro and Izquierda are in a mood for destruction

- Distrustful towards anything that doesn't remotely look like his parents or siblings. Hates humans and has breath fire at any humans or human vehicles that come too close or was at the wrong place at the wrong time

- Not the smartest head but he is by no means stupid and is actually quite a quick-thinker and makes decent, pragmatic decisions

- Doesn't care much about ruling the monsters or destroying/terraforming the Earth, he just wants to fight. Becoming king of the monsters or destroying the Earth is merely a bonus

- Is pretty annoyed that he isn't center head/leader and makes it known. Dislikes Centro's 'passiveness' and 'laidback' nature and wants him to show his true colors and act on his destructive tendencies more. Encourages Iz's trigger happy tendencies but does feel bad if he goes too far. Has no idea how to calm him but tries

Centro

- Name is the Spanish word for Center

- The head that's a nice balance of both parents or well, I hope he does

- Is seemingly the 'nicer' head. He seems pretty easygoing and laidback, uninterested in wrecking havoc. Doesn't pick fights with any of the other titans or attacks any human settlements, hell, he's even friends with the Princess. Doesn't even mind humans approaching him. Seems to be rather indifferent and content with minding his own business.

- However, He doesn't mind wrecking havoc, either, especially if he and his heads would get some benefits from this, even if it's something as petty as relieving boredom. He doesn't care how much destruction they cause, if they get something out of it, then who cares? He does, however have some standards but its mostly just "We won't get anything out of this."

- Openly cares about his loved ones, especially his brothers, even if they fight a lot and he wants to dunk their heads in lava

- Is rather laidback in how he reigns in Der and Iz. He mostly lets them do their own thing but he does pull them by the horn when they're getting too wild/stupid, mostly Der. He's usually the one that calms Iz down, especially when their parents aren't around

- Interested in becoming King of the Monsters and maybe terraforming the Earth, having no interest in destroying their only home, but is waiting for the perfect time to strike. Is also lowkey kinda scared of Godzilla but hahaha, as if he'll ever admit it

Izquerda

- Name is Spanish for Left

- Head that takes after Rodan more

- Curious if cautious, wants to explore but is paranoid, knows very well that in any moment, they might die because of their parentage. Thinks everything and everyone is out to get them. Is rather trigger happy because of it but luckily, he only fires really, really close warning shots

- The incident where his horn got broken made it worse, especially as his horn is growing back slower than normal. Really adamantly refuses to say how his horn got busted

- Feels safer and calmer when around family and friend. Lepittra is the only outsider he trusts. He's calm around his brothers but if they're both beheaded or if he's the only conscious head, he'd start becoming erratic and get closer to a breakdown.

- Is more cheerful and calm when not being scared. Chatty too, only shuts up when he gets scared and paranoid again. Also shown to be focused and a quick-learner when not panicking.

- The mediator between Der and Cen's arguments, as Der only encourages fights between Cen and Iz and Cen doesn't intervene immediately. . . But that is if Iz isn't arguing with them too. Then Leppitra is called in. And butts their heads together

- Distrustful towards humans. Has seen what they can do and speculated on what they are capable of but isn't stupid enough to kill. Only warning shots. Not destructive but will still participate if Cen is on board

- Kinda interested in becoming King of the Monsters? He knows it's their birthright or whatever but he's definitely scared of Godzilla. More interested in terraforming the planet, though but well, he can't if he's not king of the monsters so "Ugh, fine!"

#godzilla #godzilla king of monsters #mothra #king ghidorah #rodan #fankid #fankids #did i do this right?#might also revamp some old transformers fankids #because I miss drawing robots #but for now #have kaijus

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itsinthbag · 5 years

Text

caught story and my mistakes

I shared the story on Peac˙h but don’t think I shared it here, so now I’ve got some distance from the experience I thought I could write about it in a way that could maybe be helpful.

I completely know what I did that ended up in me being caught, and it was a case of being damn sloppy, brazen and greedy- no surprises there as the things that ultimately bring a lîfte® down. I just still can’t believe I let it happen. So anyway, story:

I knew what I wanted and when I entered the store, went straight to the area (Çhånel fragrances). I picked up two items (although I had only planned on one), I pulled a couple of items to line them up so it looked like nothing had been taken.

Mistake 1: making a beeline for this area instead of casually making my way over. and in hindsight, me pulling products forward in an area that is very likely being watched like a hawk would be an immediate red flag. impulsively picking a second item.

I walked around with the products for a while, but felt a bit uneasy in that I couldn’t find anywhere to conceal- this was in a town I was visiting for the day so hadn’t previously scoped. I considered doing a walk-out but it was fairly busy and the layout wasn’t the most comfortable to just breeze out of the store in.

I remember distinctly feeling that I was being watched but daftly told myself “how would anyone actually know they’re being watched though, it’s not really possible”. big mistake!

Mistake 2: ignoring my gut. walking around for far too long. I cringe when I think how sus and obvious I must have looked. trying to do a high value lîft in ‘previously uncharted territory’.

I had a get-out when I received a phone call from my boyfriend who was in the town at the time, who was asking me to come and meet for coffee. I agreed to meet him. Now, I should have just ditched and left. But the greed in me was festering and I didn’t want to give up and leave the damn products after spending so long trying to work up the nerve, so I took a deep breath and just dumped them in a shopping bag I had, thinking (hoping?) that nobody would notice. Walked out of store, beeped (even though no outer tags, must have been inside the packaging) and when outside, I felt a hand grab the handle of my backpack and the detective showing me his badge where he brought me back inside and I had to go through the horrible motions- Brought to back room, store fine, police called, another fine at the police station. my boyfriend waiting for me not knowing where I was and then having to tell him (he previously didn’t know a thing about it). to be honest it was the waiting boyfriend, and having to tell him aspect that was the worst part for me. And tbh I was also very lucky that it was only fines and no prosecution, and I had couple of young and kind police, they treated me very well throughout.

Mistake 3: again, ignoring my instincts. succumbing to greed. most likely doing it all in view of a camera.

(also- putting the products in a bag. they told me that fact I put them in the bag was what ‘sealed the deal’ as it were, maybe if I’d tried an unconcealed walk-out I could have feigned it as accidental but that’s by the by now.)

I’m even embarrassed to share how sloppy and stupid this all was, but as I had previously never been sussed (that I was aware of) and never been caught before, I felt invincible- and this is the most dangerous thing. I read about it on here in others’ stories but thought “oh, I won’t do that”, yet I did. So please don’t be like me, take heed and be safe and careful my loves!

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gretaes-blog1 · 4 years

Text

yup ! i’m nearly the last one to post my intro i think ( ︶⌒︶ ) took five naps.. head going boom boom. but hello!!!!!!!! i’m jay , i’m twenny one and livin breathin the eastern timezone. i am very excited to introduce u my baby greta. my intro will not do her justice but i hope time will. if i haven’t imed u already pleeeeeeeeeeease reach out to me ( even if u are stuck on plots ) we’ll brainstorm something really good. i’ll be switching between ims and my discord ๑•ૅㅁ•๑#4035 for convenience. i promise to get to everything as soon as i can. ill say the end cause i never know how to end those byeeee

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 here and do i have the tea for you . greta is back on campus , which is surprising considering the threatening note i left them . yes , i know all about how she hides her sexuality to maintain a relationship with her conservative family because of their greed . imagine the tabloids and how the navarro family would feel for such information to come out , not to mention the reputation of kappa because of their actions . at this rate , she is better off staying put in palo alto , california and living off that 7.9b family net worth . what’s the point in studying pharmaceutical science with plans to create accessible healthcare , is it worth it with what i know ? anyways , they may want to continue to be ambitious & reliable because the domineering & sarcastic attributes make me want to spill . ( alexa demie , j , est ) .

family ties

the name navarro has definitely been painted gold for a while. greta is the child bruno navarro who was passed down his fortune of nava pharmaceuticals - an internationally recognized healthcare company which deals with pharmaceutical merchandise and diagnostics

she has two brothers which would’ve undeniably been first in line to take their father’s place if they played their cards right

her mother was an ambassador for the company but her voice always meant very little. she never complained though.. being ambassador meant long business trips to places she would never get a chance to visit and live a lavish life without being too burdened

greta was awfully competitive though and never let herself be thrown to the side. the female roles instilled in her brain seemed like a waste of time and she wanted to be the best , especially in things that others told her she wouldn’t be

when she was little, it was about the adrenaline of proving everyone wrong but when she got older, she realised her need to succeed and be seen was more deep rooted than that. it wasn’t unusual for greta to feel alien to her parents but seeing as all her private school friends could relate, it didn’t bother her too much. it was the values instilled in her family that were a harder pill to swallow

at the dinner table, greta had to listen to slurs thrown left and right at people who didn’t fit into their conservative agenda. she had to sit through an hour of her father chanting about gender roles and sickening politics that put everyone , except his own empire , at the bottom of the food chain. they knew their power and the only goal was unwavering cash flow

and that is about the only thing greta and her family had in common. her GREED. although her morals didn’t align with the values of her father , her eyes were set on the price. breaking the tradition of men owning their biggest investment and becoming the chief officer of nava pharmaceuticals. and if biting her tongue and faking a smile meant knocking the king over from the top of the food chain then.... CHEck MATE Bitch <3

but obviously, its not easy living under pressure. especially when the reality is so far from the mask u wear to get what u want

meet greta

under that mask is a greta that is the complete opposite of what her father painted her out to be. she is independent, sometimes even selfish . she is strong and brilliant. she’s determined and ambitious . she challenges herself , she’s eager to excel, to be more than the best. she wants to surprise people with the extend of what she’s capable of. i honestly don’t think greta has even dreamed of what she wants to achieve yet ????? but she knows she has a deep yearning for it. the feeling of bliss and a peace of mind when you’ve gotten everything u worked so hard for.

unfortunately, it’s important to take time and recenter urself from time to time in the chaos of striving for perfection. greta has lost that ability and often impulsively runs off the tracks. u won’t ever see her tripping over her feet at the party but u will probably catch her lying about the amount of alcohol she had if u are sober enough to notice. she’ll let u unbutton her shirt, only if u promise not to tell. she’ll tell u she’s okay and she thinks she is even if she really isn’t

greta was good in everything except in love. it was hard for her to entertain one night stands unless she had steam to blow off , she always had something more productive to do. she’d lie in bed and battle those thoughts, wondering if she’s only making excuses .... after all , she’s a pretty girl. but those who got to taste her cherry lips were always left with the memory they were told not to share with anyone. she would always find excuses, letting good things pass her by. she didn’t know then what was causing her scattered affection. but it was often because in order to know what u want, u can’t censor thoughts and treat them as distractions. greta has always treated romance as a distraction and consequently, she never let herself reflect on what makes her happy for too long. but, of course , sleepless nights would often lead to her having to face herself. truly. she would think about the people she considers her friends and how she hopes she doesn’t lose them in the process, she daydreams about the future and freedom to speak her mind even when the voice in her head tells her not to. and she thinks about girls..... a lot

greta hasn’t thought about it enough to put her sexuality on a spectrum. she knows she’s dated boys and she liked it. but, it’s also the only thing she’s known. having her family instil in her brain that being attracted to the same sex is not right and knowing that she needs to play her cards right to be considered worthy of the fortune, it was settled. she would dig a hole in the ground and bury those thoughts deep down under. knowing that if her family finds out she’s been with girls or even felt attracted to them????? her dreams would be crushed and she would be lucky to still sit at the dinner table.

she battles those thoughts and often gets caught up in them. kissing girls in places where nobody sees and keeping it a secret or turning to lying, saying they’re pathetic for falling for it. basically being a shitty person because she knows there is no way she could ever get away with it??? safe to say, having to feel guilty for the things u cannot change, doesn’t make her the happiest kid on the playground and with knowing how word travels fast, it makes her paranoid to even consider risking her future for that. she continues to strive for perfection instead of wholeness :/

on a lighter note.... she obviously studies pharmaceutical sciences. she sees a future for the company that her father fails to acknowledge. her father doesn’t know it but she aims to take the empathic route and use her fortune for a better cause.. to help make healthcare accessible for all. she’s got the fattttttest heart i tell u and believes in good karma.

i said this in the app and ill say it again........... Loves cheese bread. honestly bribe her with cheesy bread i dare u. it will work ( almost always )

runs track.... Just as good at this one as she is in running away from all her problems. Stellar performance

reads those motivational books.. ( yup. those )

studies hard. really will study all night and fall asleep with a notepad on her face and highlighter stain on her forehead. again, anywhere where she has to compete for first place, she will do anything to get that first place. and if she doesnt ???????? shes a thunderstorm. angry music plays in the background. she storms off. lips pursed. and takes days to recover

really loves mysteries. and crosswords. the process of figuring out how to get from point a to point b... thats greta.

and if she doesnt focus and set boundaries in her head, she doesnt know where to finish. she is the most Opinionated bitch. like she has a strong opinion about everything. even whether tomato is a fruit or vegetable. like she knows its a vegetable. Ok?

she’s the biggest know it all!!!!!! she won’t ever shake on anything and if it comes to it, she will stand by her words until she’s thought about it in her bed for days ( even made a list of rights and wrongs to weigh out how truly “””””’wrong””””” she is ) it’s hard for her to back down. of course.... she definitely is wrong sometimes even if she claims otherwise </3

basically always a spitfire... always thinks shes right. and to be fair , she kind of always is. greta is stubborn and sarcastic. her facial expressions are transparent ( almost to a fault ) and she has an unwavering determination to be the best....at everything. she wants to be in control of everything in her life, unfortunately thats not always possible and that’s when greta finds herself feeling tense, paranoid and anxious. but she’s got a good head on her shoulders... she’s curious and easy to feel comfortable around even though she is bad tempered

kind of stupid extras

neat freak..... bacteria be gone!!!!!!!!!!

always called her parents by their name

doesn’t really have a relationship with her brothers but its because they treat her as less and she will not have that so again keeps contact to a minimum and bites her tongue when need be

pays attention to her nails.... really likes when theyre painted pretty

has a butterfly necklace.. its a symbol she can relate to :)

here’s the pinterest !!

and the playlist !!!!!

and stats but theyre so bad. ill fix them later </3

beep me reach me for the wanted connections page weeeeeeee

#holling:intro

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