#after the trailer reveal i cleaned this a little & decided to post it

[writethesleepaway]

Can't Fight This Feeling - P2

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: After Steve comes to the realization that he's bisexual, he's determined in going after what he wants; Eddie Munson. What he assumed would be an easy performance of flirting quickly turns into a complicated maze as he realises Eddie is more bark than bite.

Or, Steve Harrington is a manwhore and Eddie Munson is simultaneously horrified and turned on by the advances.

TW: masturbation and spicy thoughts from Steve

Word Count: 2659

A/N: This is my first piece of writing that I've uploaded on this account (I'm not new to writing fanfics ehehe) but I'm terrified anyways! In this story, everything that's happened in the show has happened, however Eddie lives and this story is set a few months after the events of Vecna. Also I was inspired by a post by @tuvens talking about manwhore Steve and Eddie so this is that :D

Here is Part 3!

(divider by @delishlydelightfuldividers)

Steve didn't see Eddie for another 4 days. 4 long, painful days, where Steve would wake up, sulking at the fact that his bed was empty, and would go to sleep, tired out from touching himself to the thought of the pretty boy who occupied his mind. During this time he had more revelations: he now realised that he wouldn't mind fully dating Eddie. Even though he had a hard exterior with tattoos and harsh fabric that sometimes hurt to touch, there was a good, soft heart waiting to love and be loved. Steve could tell in the little intimate moments they had when they embraced after fighting off some monster, or thanking each other for watching out for something. Eddie's brown eyes would be glossy, his chest heaving from adrenaline, soft lips that Steve wanted to kiss so badly parted ever so slightly.

But he realised that he had been too sexual in his flirtation the other day. Or maybe he could have sex with Eddie, and then ask him out? The situation was hardly traditional, they were two guys for fucks sake. Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course, Steve was just excited at his first proper situation with a guy.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard repeated banging on the door and continuous rings from the door bell. As Steve rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stumbled out his room with half his shirt on, he pulls the door open to reveal Dustin looking up at him.

"Dude! I've been ringing the doorbell for like, 10 minutes! Were you asleep?" he asked.

"Yes Henderson. I was peacefully asleep before you decided to come over just to break down my door. Now what do you want?" Steve asked after pulling on the rest of his shirt.

"You gotta drive me to Eddie's trailer! I told him I'd meet him there to discuss-" Dustin was cut off by Steve's hand pressed against his mouth.

"Repeat. You said you need me to drive you to Eddie Munson's trailer?" Steve asked, still keeping his hand on Dustin's face. Dustin nodded enthusiastically, but Steve's face fell.

"When do you have to be there by?"

"Like, 10 minutes?"

"Aboslutely not. You tell me 10 minutes beforehand?! What happened to planning, Henderson? What happened to, thinking ahead?" Steve asked as he starts pacing around the living room.

"Jeez Steve I didn't think it was that big of a deal... I'll just go ask Robin or something."

"Nope. She's busy, I'm driving you. But you gotta give me 30 minutes.

"WHAT? Steve I said 10 minutes! Not 30! We don't have 30 minutes!" Dustin yelled.

"Wrong. You don't have 30 minutes, I do. That's what you get for coming here so last minute. Now sit your ass down and wait." Steve ordered as he walked to the bathroom. It didn't seem like it, but he was panicking. He knew he shouldn't have to try too hard for Eddie, but he wanted to clean up a little bit.

Stepping into the shower he quickly ran over his body with the soap, noticing he was already half hard. Steve chuckled at the thought, Eddie would always get him excited. His eyes found the clock on the wall, 24 minutes left. Without even thinking, he pulled a tight pair of jeans and a burgundy crewneck over his head. The last 20 minutes were spent fixing his hair, which caused Dustin to cough up a storm with all the fumes coming out of the bathroom.

"God Steve its just your hair no need for a smoke bomb!" Dustin yelled out.

"Shut up Dustin, you're just jealous you don't have my hair!" Steve yelled back.

When he was finally ready he took one last look at himself. Not too much, not too little. Cologne in the right places, keys in his pocket, he was ready to go.

"Up, Henderson, up!" Steve sang.

"Oh God Eddie's going to kill me for being so late." Dustin sighed.

"That's what you get. Ask me earlier next time." Steve responded as he opened the door for the two of them.

The pair sat in silence as Steve drove down the road, hearing the occasional conversations of people they passed.

"Steve, I gotta ask. Why'd you get ready just to drive me to Eddie?"

"I thought I might as well get ready for the day anyways since you woke me up."

"Wait so, you do that to your hair, every day?"

"Yeah?"

"How is your hair still alive that shit has got to be dead by now!"

"Speak for yourself little guy. My hair is fine."

Eddie was waiting in front of his trailer, joint in hand, when the car finally pulled into the area. Dustin was the first to come out scrambling to reach Eddie, apologies spewing out of his mouth left and right. Steve then exited the car and took off his sunglasses to look at Eddie. It was only then when the three realised that Eddie was shirtless, with only his plaid pyjama pants hanging low on his hips.

Steve felt all his blood immediately flow down as he took in the beauty in front of him. How he wanted to slowly kiss and suck at every square inch of bare skin on Eddie's body, holding both hands above his head while he teased him endlessly.

"Jesus Christ Dustin what have I told you about being on time! No dungeon master, not any normal person, appreciates tardiness!" Eddie yelled, suddenly hyperaware at his lack of clothes. His eyes glanced over at Steve, leaning on the side of his car, staring hungrily at Eddie's figure. Well he isn't very subtle my god... Eddie thought to himself.

"Like what you see King Steve?" Eddie joked. He figured that if Steve could flirt so shamelessly, he could too. Right?

"You know I do, pretty boy." Steve said, completely serious. Once again, a blush erupted on Eddie's face, and Dustin looked up from his position on the ground.

"What the shit... Yknow what, I'm not even going to ask." He murmured before looking back at his notebook.

"Dustin, bud, how are you getting home?" Steve asked, still looking up and down at Eddie, who still hadn't put on a shirt. Was this on purpose?

"Uhm, I was kinda hoping you would take me?" Dustin said as he looked up to Steve with a hopeful grin.

"And how long do you plan on staying here?" Steve asked.

"30 minutes, max! I promise, I won't take long." Dustin clasped his hands together in a pleading motion and shook them at Steve who laughed at his antics.

"Fine! But any longer and I'm leaving without you!" Dustin jumped up and dragged Eddie into his own trailer to talk, while Steve sat back down in his car. The image of Eddie, shirtless, with pants sitting dangerously low, would now be permanently etched in his mind. His own body betrayed him, his aching cock reminding him how he felt about Eddie.

F-fuck Eddie, just like that, right there! Oh god, fuck baby your mouth feels so good! Steve moaned as he leaned back into the headboard, while Eddie bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks around Steve's cock.

The scene sent shivers through Steve's body. He looked down at his thighs, sighing at the sight of his erection pushing up against the fabric of his pants. He tried to ignore the feeling, he really did, but as Steve looked around outside the car, seeing the trailers and a few people lingering outside, he couldn't help but get even more excited. The thought of being caught, being watched, made him feel a different kind of warm. A foreign feeling, yet still welcome. Especially the thought of Eddie catching him, Steve felt like he could faint from the pleasure.

Pulling his pants down, Steve grasped the base of his cock, moaning at the contact. His hands slowly moved up and down his shaft, pumping himself to the beat of no song in particular. Quiet whimpers and moans escaped Steve lips as he tried to get himself off. As he rocked into his hands he shut his eyes tight and let his head fall back onto the headrest. Using his free hand he played with his entrance, finger ever so slightly pushing against his hole, causing him to gasp every time he applied more pressure.

It didn't take long for him to finish, long ropes of his seed coating his stomach. His mind was gone, still thinking of him and Eddie, while he rested his hands on his stomach, chest still heaving. Eventually Steve realised he had to clean up, so he reached over to his glove compartment and pulled out spare napkins that he always kept just in case for the kids. As he finished wiping himself, he heard the door to Eddie's trailer open, prompting him to quickly pull up his pants.

"Steve! Come out here!" Dustin called out.

As Steve walked towards the two, he couldnt help but smile at Eddie who had since put on a shirt. It was cute to see him look so domestic.

"Sooooo.... We were thin-"

"No, correction, Dustin was thinking." Eddie corrected.

"Okay fine, I was thinking, that we could have a movie night / pool party?" Dustin suggested.

"Its a school night Henderson, you know the rules." Steve deadpanned.

"Oh come on, just one movie? Then you and the older kids can have the pool party." Dustin pleaded.

"Wait, are you saying we do this at my house?" Steve asked. Dustin's face lit up, Eddie gulped nervously.

"Duh! You're the only one with a pool!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Nope. Not a chance Henderson. You and the kids can watch one movie but after that everyone out.” Steve explained.

“Oh come on Harrington, let the younglings have their fun. They’re not children anymore.” Eddie pleaded.

Steve stayed firm in his decision, surprisingly. He thought any form of begging from Eddie would make him melt. The motherly instincts were stronger than the feelings he harboured.

While Steve was lost in his mind, Dustin and Eddie had come up with plan.

“Please, Steve? Let them have fun, for me? And I wanna come over too, use your pool and what not.” Eddie asked, batting his eyes up at Steve with a small smile gracing his face.

For a brief moment, all the confidence Steve had quitly left his body, along with his soul. Steve was convinced that he had died, because surely he was in heaven. Eddie saying please, using his first name, smiling at him, it was definitely heaven.

"Alright fine, fine, whatever. Get your shit and let's go." Steve relented, as the two highfived each other. Dustin ran back inside to grab his stuff while Eddie stayed back for a moment.

"Thanks Stevie." Eddie whispered. He took two fingers under Steve's chin and tilted it upward just to the point where his face met Eddie's lips as he placed a kiss on his cheek.

Steve could have sworn that time had stopped. If he thought he was in heaven before, he surely wasn't, and was now. Eddie, THE Eddie Munson, the only person to ever invade his thoughts every waking hour this badly, had just flirted with him, touched him, and kissed him on the cheek. Steve could die peacefully now, like actually, peacefully.

Back in the trailer, Dustin and Eddie were jumping up and down like school girls.

"Oh my God I can't believe that worked! Holy shit, Eddie it worked!" Dustin yelled as he spun around with Eddie.

"I KNOW! HOLY FUCK IT WORKED!" Eddie responded.

"YOU GOT HIM TO SAY YES!" "I KISSED HIM!" The two practically screamed.

"Oh, okay yeah that happened too. Look, I'm glad you guys can be flirty and what not, but gross. It's like, my parents kissing in front of me." Dustin explained.

"Okay yeah, got it. Just, please Henderson, I'm asking you this as a friend to a friend, keep quiet about it alright?" Eddie's voice broke a little at the end. Dustin could tell how serious he was.

"Oh my god yeah, of course. But let's be real, Steve will probably do something first. He literally called you pretty boy in front of m-"

"OH MY GOD HE CALLED ME PRETTY BOY! AGAIN!" Eddie yelled again. Dustin turned around to the metalhead, who's mouth was covered by his hand. The two erupted into a mess of giggles and jumping up and down in circles. Surprisingly, Steve didn't hear a thing. He was still basking in the feeling of Eddie having touched him, kissed his cheek even. Well at least that confirms that there are some mutual feelings.

Dustin and Eddie eventually came out of the trailer to see Steve leaning against his car again.

"Let's go!" Dustin laughed out as he and Munson opened the car to the back seat.

"Nope, Munson you're in the front with me, big boy." Steve commented, causing Eddie to shiver at the nickname. Dustin hummed with approval and Eddie sank into the passenger seat.

The three drove back into town, windows down, taking in the summer sun.

Eddie had purposely left his hand a little bit too much to the left. Okay scrap that, it wasn't even on his own thigh anymore, just resting over that weird space between the seat and the gearbox. He wondered why Steve hadn't picked up on the hint, until he did. Steve took Eddie's hand in his right one, keeping their fingers intertwined as he drove using his left. Eddie had to physically turn his face towards the window and hide it in his hand to prevent himself from squealing with excitement. Of course, Dustin was none the wiser.

After having picked everybody up, Will, Mike, Max, El and Dustin all piled into the Harrington household's living room to watch some random movie, one that Steve payed no mind to. He couldn't stop watching Eddie, who sat on the floor, and somehow let Max braid his hair. Steve wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through his hair, to scratch the back of Eddie's neck, to pull it as he was making love to the boy.

Even though it felt like seconds, eventually an hour had passed, and Steve's thoughts were interupted by the kids.

"Hey, thanks for letting us stay. Jonathan and Nancy are picking us all up, so we're fine to go from here." Dustin explained to Steve while wiggling his eyebrows. Steve knew that at this point Dustin could tell what was going on, he definitely wasn't trying to hide anything anyways. He just rolled his eyes at his younger counterpart and ushered his kids out the door. After everyone had left, he turned around to see Eddie had fallen asleep on the side of the couch. Steve's heart practically exploded at the sight. He bent down, watching him sleep for some more, before deciding to wake him up.

"Eddie, hey sleepyhead, wake up." Steve cooed as he cupped Eddie's face, thumb stroking his cheek. Eddie's eyes fluttered and was surprised to see Steve's face so close, espcially holding his own.

"Shit, sorry Harrington, I haven't slept in a while." Eddie murmured as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Don't apologize sweetheart, do you just wanna sleep? My parents won't be home tonight so you're welcome to crash here." Steve offered.

"No, no. I said I wanted to use the pool. So I'm gonna do just that."

"Be my guest Eddie. Be my guest."

Eddie got up from the couch and grabbed his bag, giving one last look at Steve before disappearing into a bathroom to change.

"You coming with me Harrington?" Eddie asked.

"Of course." Steve replied.

The two couldn't calm themselves down. They couldn't wait to see each other in the pool.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things ships #steve eddie #steveddie #steddie #dustin henderson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #vellarawrites

[zazrichor]

I’ll make sure no one interrupts. but man, I HOPE somebody tries!

#vampire the masquerade #damsel #vtmb #brujah #vtmb fanart #blood cw #after the trailer reveal i cleaned this a little & decided to post it #i kept reading blood warnings on my vv piece #& i was a little confused bc i didn't knowingly add blood lmao #but i figured the way i painted her teeth it can look like she's got some juice in there #but i definitely added it on damsel lol #zazrichart #krita

[dreadwulf]

2: The Black Mountains

Post-Apocalyptic Modern AU. Chapter 1 is here.

The last thing his right eye ever saw was Brienne. 

In that eye she is shouting. Of course he couldn’t hear her at the time over the jeers of the Bloody Mummers tying him to the table. Their laughter had been right up against his ears and the sound of it drowned out everything else in that abandoned mall. The image is soundless: her mouth is just open, her throat pushing out a word that looks like No. Her blue eyes are also open wide, both frightened and angry, a righteous fury that came to him as a surprise, at the time.

She is a still image that resides in the abandoned nerves to that empty eye socket. If he cares to, he can still see her there, superimposed over everything.

She hovers over The Spider’s right shoulder just now. Still saying No.  

He tries to focus on the Spider’s face instead. Varys raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow on his immaculate bald head.

“You can’t shoot anymore. Not like before, not with one eye. You know this.”

“I don’t mean to shoot.” Jaime shows his palms. “I have two hands still. I need a weapon I won’t have to aim.”

Varys measures this statement. He is a man who deals in knowledge more than goods, but he has an armed guard, and a collection of interesting weapons. Both for his own protection, and for use in acquiring the most valuable intel.

“In that case,” the Spider presses a button on the trailer wall. To one of the bikers, a large man with a burnt face who looks in the door in response to his call, he instructs, “bring me the Widow’s Wail.”

The same scarred man reappears with a comically oversized weapon in his hands. Turns out Widow’s Wail is an axe. It is a huge, two-handed, double-bladed axe and when the burnt biker hands it to Jaime his hands dip with the weight.

Axes, Brienne used to tell him, are the best weapon for killing Others. You don’t need to reload an axe. It can’t jam, doesn’t recoil. Simple and effective. 

Messy though, he had said back. He had always preferred his rifle -- clean and fast, one shot and done, and hopefully at a distance. The Others would fall down like carnival targets, one after another, and his favorite jacket would remain spotless. But after they took his eye, he had needed a new weapon, and his jacket was long-ruined by then. 

This is messy work, she had replied.

Now, he lifts the weapon, turns it one way and another. Both edges gleam in the fluorescent light. This axe has been sharpened recently. It is spotless. This weapon has never seen battle.

“It’s new,” Varys fills in immediately, “but it was designed to kill Others. Old valyrian steel, made the old way. We haven’t yet had opportunity to test it, but it will strike true.”

Jaime doesn’t ask how Varys would be able to make a valyrian steel weapon. Knowing how is what he does. 

The Spider watches him curiously. “Are we square then, Slayer?”

“Almost.” He sits again, crosses the long weapon over his lap with both fists grasping it tightly. “Where did it happen?”

“In the North. What exactly happened is unclear even to me, but we know for certain she had traveled north with a small gang. There are reports of her at Winterfell, and then she went with Snow and a small band of Starks beyond the Black Mountains. They returned without her.”

Jaime nods shortly. “Winterfell, then the wilds.”

The Spider frowns. He is perhaps a little perplexed by this conversation, or by Jaime himself. He likes to think he knows people, knows how they will react. But recent years have made a different man of Jaime Lannister. The fall of King’s Landing, his father’s death, the business with Cersei -- after all that, the arrogant and impetuous adventurer of his younger days is long gone. He is a ghost of himself, and the Spider doesn’t know what this ghost will do. He doesn’t like that.

He sits up a little bit straighter on his couch.  “Then it isn’t our local outbreak you intend to fight? I expected you would be nearby. Kill some Others, burn off some steam, and incidentally clear out some of the infestation in the Riverlands, which would be convenient for me. But you aren’t doing that, are you? You mean to follow her? To what purpose?”

Jaime’s eye flickers briefly right. “Hunting.”

“It will be pointless to mount a rescue mission, I assure you.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Their eyes meet for a moment. Jaime isn’t about to elaborate on his intentions, and Varys is visibly frustrated. His silky tones shorten, revealing something sharp beneath. 

“I ought to stop you. You have brought order to the Westerlands, and you’re starting to bring it here too. Alliances, patrols for the roads. Your brother, clever as he is, did not do that. If you abandon these lands, it may all fall apart.”

Jaime feels a flicker of guilt for that, but it is quickly doused by everything else happening inside him. No, this is important. Maybe the most important thing he has ever done.

He shrugs stiffly. “If it falls apart without me, it was too fragile to last.” 

“You’ll need more than an axe and your motorbike to make that journey. You have favors to trade, certainly,” Varys cuts him off before he can argue, “but not that many. The scouting party went beyond the Black Mountains, across them, into the far North. There are few enough waystations on the way to Winterfell, and everything North of Winterfell belongs to the Others. There will be no shelters for you along the way, no refuges, no refueling.”

Jaime is unconcerned. “If she made it there, then I can too.”

“The Blue Angel had a party of supporters, specialists. She would have been outfitted with the best supplies and equipment. She was welcomed everywhere she went, and at the peak of her powers. No offense, Slayer, but you are past your prime, and your powers lately end at the borders of Lannister territory.”

He smiles thinly as he stands. “I didn’t know you cared, Spider. Thanks for the weapon. We’re square.”

Jaime takes the axe outside, and stands staring up at the moon, while the bikers retrieve his motorbike.

Anytime he looks at the moon, anytime there is a moon, he thinks of her. Remembers how they had looked on it together, during those long nights on the road, even though they had parted years ago now. Her on to glory, him back to the arms of his family. They delivered the girls to Winterfell, and he left her to the Kingsroad. It was her territory after that, what once had been his. She had earned it in sweat and tears and blood. She tended it well without him. He had gloried in tales of her exploits.

Whenever he looks at the moon, he has always wondered if she is looking too. Wherever she is.

He thinks he will not be able to look at the moon anymore.

When he turns his head, Varys stands on the steps of his trailer, his bald head gleaming against the fluorescent light. Jaime has never seen him outside his trailer. It’s confusing, a little like seeing a penguin in the jungle.

“The Others of the Black Mountains are different,” The Spider warns him. “Worse.” 

When his bike comes rolling back with two of the Spider’s bikers, it comes with a few more gifts. Two metal spheres, one the size of a softball and the other the size of a chestnut.

Grenades, obviously Old World. Gods know where Varys got them from, certainly they aren’t made this way anymore. What they’re calling grenades now will mostly just make noise. But these two could probably blow a hole in a tank. He packs them onto his bike carefully.

Any old-world weapon would be priceless now, Jaime knows. Varys would not overpay a debt.

He squints up at the Spider, who makes a silky shadow in the doorway against his light. “And the cost?”  

The Spider smiles -- he can’t see it, on a shadow, but he can hear it in his voice. “If you come back, tell me what you saw. I hear very little of the Black Mountains and none of it first-hand.”

Jaime can promise that easily enough. He knows he won’t be coming back.

He walks his bike in silence about a mile up the road before waking the engines and roaring away.

He rides the motorbike until the last of his carefully hoarded gasoline is run out, rides right through the next day and into the night. Gets more miles out of it than he would have gotten with his creaky armored car, and certainly faster. 

Along the way he sees no other travelers. Five years ago there would have been at least a few others, some other vehicles, perhaps spaced out and alone, perhaps all in a big caravan for safety. But there is not much fuel left anymore. And North is not a direction people go in now.

It was how he had met her, actually. On a road much like this one.  He had been on a different motorbike and she had been driving a sedan. Obviously following him, less obvious why. He made it a chase - weaving between the stopped traffic, blasting around the walkers and cyclists and parades of cars going nowhere. She had somehow kept up with him, pushing her poor little car to its limits. Eventually he decided whoever it was had earned his attention for at least a few minutes, and he pulled over on the road to watch the tallest, ugliest woman he had ever seen unfold herself out of her car. 

She kept his attention considerably longer than a few minutes. .

Of course, he could enjoy a chase back then - you could still count on petrol, could siphon it out of most any vehicle you encountered along the way. The cars along the road here are bone dry by now, haven’t moved in years, and the electronics, trunk supplies, and even promising upholstery have been stripped out of them long ago. The cars pass by now in muted streaks of blue and red, dulled by layers of paint-stripping weather damage and snow. 

When his bike sputters to a stop, he leaves it right out on the highway. Packs his equipment onto his back. Then he begins to walk.

Without the headlights of his bike, it’s quite dark. No streetlights, of course. He has a torch in his bag, but he’s saving that battery as long as he can. Anyway, the moon is out, and once his eyes are adjusted he sees well enough. The trees encroaching on the interstate have not quite overtaken the shoulder, and the glow of moon and stars light up the cracked concrete in front of him, and glitter in the frost.

His boots echo his footfalls up and down the highway. First the gritty sound of gravel, and then the crunch of ice, and then the quieter scrunch of snow. 

There are no other sounds to hear out here -- no bird cries, no insects. They aren’t sure if the animals are dead, hiding, or run away, but no one sees them anymore. Means he doesn’t have to worry about being eaten by bears, at least.

The last bear he has seen was that time with Brienne, actually. It might have been the last bear, period. He hasn’t heard of any other ones since. That would be a shame, if that had been the last bear, and they’d killed it. He hadn’t wanted to. He can’t take it personally, the bear trying to eat them. He was only hungry, and they were all very hungry that winter. 

He didn’t know he would be fleeing the last bear in Westeros with her, when he met Brienne on the road. He only knew she was capable, and she was following him, and anyone out in the wilds could be dangerous. Out here other people were either foolishly overconfident, robbers, or competition. 

Brienne proved to be the last type, possibly also the first. She was after the Stark bounty, same as him. She had a personal stake. He could keep the money, she said. He had a lot more experience and knew where he was going, but she could be an ally. She could help.

He had laughed in her face, more or less. Said she was free to make the bounty herself, but he traveled alone. Newbies tended to die almost immediately, and he hadn’t stayed alive this long by babysitting foolish college students. He would locate the missing Stark girls and deliver them home. But if she wanted to return them herself she’d have to beat him there. 

A few weeks later they had wound up with one Stark girl apiece -- him with Sansa and her best girlfriend Jayne, her with Arya and her mate Gendry -- and again she had proposed an alliance for the trip up to Winterfell. No one had made it to Winterfell since the disaster, but their chances were better together, she said.

His better idea was that he could take the two valuable girls to Winterfell and she could take the two spares and go back to King’s Landing where it was safe, or jump in a lake for all he cared. But that conversation had been interrupted by the Bloody Mummers, and after that… things were very different after that.

Jaime slows to a stop with this remembrance, digs in his bag for his water bottle and takes a long pull. He’s tiring faster than he expected. He has tried to keep himself in fighting shape the last few years, but he hasn’t made a journey like this in a long time.

You’ve grown soft, he thinks, but inside his head it sounds like Brienne’s gentle ribbing. The tone she had taken after she stopped insulting him for real.

I’m refined, he answers back, slinging his pack over his shoulder and walking again. Answers between breaths, like he’s actually speaking. I’m a diplomat these days, remember? 

Will you try to negotiate with the Others then? She laughs in his ear. What will you trade them, wine? Broken electronics? The only economy they know is violence, and we trade them blows. 

He smiles to himself, despite everything. Young lady, it’s a good thing you didn’t come back to King’s Landing with me. You would have knocked out the Small Council within a day, and we’d both have been out on our asses.

And King’s Landing would have better off with us in the street than you in that office. We might have saved it. Old man, whatever have you done without me?

Jaime stops a moment, breathing hard, looking up at the moon.

I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ve been doing, where the time went. It all blurred together without you.

He has been having these conversations for years now. It isn’t exactly imagination. More prediction. He knows exactly what she would say in every instance. What she would think of the people he meets, the places he goes. He hears her critiques of his private practice sessions, when he tries to stay in shape for the inevitable invasion. Her quiet, private commentary. Her icy rejoinders to his jokes. They come to him like a reply. Like she has heard him gods-know-how-many miles away, and answered him back. 

It’s painful now, hearing her voice. He doesn’t know why it would be different - alive or dead, he is only talking to himself after all. Perhaps it is only more obviously futile this way, knowing she is gone. 

He was never going to see her again, he knows that. The things she does, they were always eventually going to get her killed. Hells, he told her that himself more than once. 

Even now it still isn’t entirely real to him. It doesn’t seem possible. But the Spider knows things, and if he knows them they aren’t just rumors. It’s true. It’s sinking in. Brienne is gone. 

She doesn’t walk the same world as him anymore. He will hear no more tales of her adventures, and smile privately at the things nobody else knows of her. He will not wonder if it snows where she is, or if the sun shines. Whether she ever thinks of him, the way he does of her. They traveled together only a year, but she carved a place for herself in him, in the slow and brutal way water carves a cliffside. He has kept her there all this time. Now in that space there is emptiness, a brutal, sucking vacuum that might just pull him apart if he stops moving long enough.

So he starts walking again. Keeps walking, on and on, without rest, for as long as he can stand it.

Here and there one of the Others comes onto the road ahead of him. They wander on and off aimlessly, looking lost. At a distance they look nearly alive, so long as they aren’t missing any limbs, and only the directionless of their movements give them away. As you get closer you can see their clothing is wrong -- it’s not enough clothes for the weather, or their clothes are torn, bits are missing. Maybe the clothes are rotting right off their bodies, if they’re been out long enough. Closer still and you can see the blueish tinge to the skin that the Others are famous for, the thin layer of frost that covers them head to toe. At ten feet or so you can make out the ice blue eyes that glow like cat’s eyes in the light. But by then they’ve seen you, and they move much faster than you think they can. Best not to get that close. Best to stay well away, and let them turn and wander in another direction out of sight. 

As always, one wonders what they’re looking for. Where they’re going.

Some of them will wander away before he catches up, and he pays them no mind. If he is quiet, and they didn’t take notice of him, it is easier to let them pass by. Fighting can be loud, and that sort of noise could bring more of them running.

But eventually one is too slow. They can be damaged, and those stumbling steps can be frustratingly deliberate at times. This one is fairly tall, and drags its foot in the snow. On the highway, it reminds him of an elderly driver occupying the fast lane at a crawl. Even as he slows his pace, he gets closer and closer, and the dead thing shows no signs of changing direction.

Eventually he can wait no longer. He will have to overtake the creature. At least he hasn’t seen any other Others nearby. This Other shows no sign of noticing him. Jaime slowly draws the axe off his back, and makes six rapid, long strides in the thing’s direction, winding up for a massive crossways swing.

Varys didn’t lie; the axe cuts true. One good blow across the back is enough to bring it down, and he remembers where to strike. Sever the spinal cord, destroy the brain, or burn them, that destroys them. The axe is so sharp it cuts the thing nearly in half. There is a quick, sharp sound of impact and the thud of a body hitting the ground, and then silence. 

They don’t scream, the others. They don’t make noises of any kind. Maybe because they don’t breathe anymore; who knows. He pulls the axe out of the thing’s bulk and wipes it in the snow. 

The first Other to fall to him in five years that he didn’t hit with his car. It feels good. It doesn’t relieve the great sucking void he has inside him but it does feel good.

He shoulders the axe and keeps walking. After that, he strikes down one of them every few hours, until the sun comes up, and then he huddles on the embankment, dozing, for most of the morning. It’s not so cold he’ll freeze - not yet, anyway - and there aren’t so many Others around that he can’t risk it.

He’s lucky, for the most part. There aren’t any big clusters of Others out here. Those tend to form up around settlements and cities, or lingering around empty houses. Not out here in the open space, where there aren’t travelers anymore. 

He passes the next night in a car, after crawling in a broken window. It’s not especially safer, but it is more comfortable than the ground. He sprawls across the backseat and thinks about the red wood-paneled station wagon he had found buried in a parking lot and managed to start. He and Brienne drove that car all the way to Harrenhall, the now five children sleeping in the back. The seat was so wide even Brienne could lay down in it, and she was inches taller than him. 

This car is blue, and he has to bend his knees and curl up to fit on the seat.

Keep watch for me, Angel, he tells her, before he drifts off.

Days of steady walking pass this way, with fitful bursts of sleep. 

The Black Mountains are looming in the far distance when he nears Winterfell. So tall he can see them all these miles away, staining the low edge of the horizon like a shadow. 

Jaime keeps his eyes on the ground mostly. He’s only been here once, and it wasn’t an enjoyable visit. It was a destination, and it meant the end of a long journey. He’s never much liked those. Endings. He tries to get those over with. If he can help it, he’d rather turn around and begin again right away, try to get back to the middle.

Wintertown is relatively intact, patrolled by fur-clad soldiers with shotguns. The town has grown since he was here last. The streets have people on them now, much more than in Lannisport or anywhere in the Riverlands. No cars, but regular people, old folks and even children, strolling about. He has to stop and stare at that for awhile. Pedestrians. It’s been a long time.

Perhaps things are better in the North? Maybe they are safer than they were. But Wintertown is small, and easily guarded, and in the shadow of the old Winterfell fortress these people know they can flee within its walls and be safe, should the Others attack again. That’s more reassurance than most places have. 

For a little while he walks up and down those streets, just another window-shopper. The buildings are mostly refitted as residences, but on the sidewalks people sell goods out of carts, or spread out on the sidewalk. Wanderers come through and trade the trinkets they’ve found. There aren’t prices. Most likely they will take food, and medicine, and more practical items, in trade. He didn’t bring anything like that, unfortunately. But there isn’t anything he needs here.

At the end of a long boulevard Jaime finds himself before the gates of Winterfell, and he pauses.

This was where he had parted from her. Right here.

He grimaces past that memory. He was an ass about it, of course. Tried to sneak away. She caught him. There was a confrontation. Things were said. 

Things? Brienne-in-his-mind prods him indignantly. Have you forgotten already?

I remember every word. He sighs. Unfortunately.

The gates to Winterfell stand open for now. Probably so that Wintertown can run inside, if someone rings the alarm. Jaime passes through and takes the gravel path to the old castle. It’s a sturdy thing, for being several hundred years old. Solid and undecayed. Sure, they have to replace the wood every few decades, but the stone is thick and unbroken. There are walls behind walls, like any medieval keep, and courtyards and gates separating them. Guards stand atop the fortifications with guns, and they watch him approaching. Wary, but welcoming. Anyone not undead is allowed to pass through, at least to the midden.

The kids are here at Winterfell, probably. Somewhere. Many of them stayed, he has heard. The Starks for sure, and maybe some of the other strays he and Brienne had picked up along the way. Any of the running kids in Wintertown could have been Apple, that baby that Willow and Sansa had fawned over. He would be five, six years old now. That is, if he were alive. 

He doesn’t want to see any of them if he can help it. Best not to go inside the Great Keep then. He goes to the Great Hall instead. The velvet ropes are all taken down. It was a tourist trap for a lot of years, before its fortifications became unexpectedly useful again. Used to be you could get a feast inside, with cosplayers and a jester and a bard, and then you could get back in your car and drive away home. 

Bit different now. The fires are still roaring, but put to more practical use. Broken furniture surrounds the great fireplaces where they have been stripping the upholstery and feeding the fire. Laundry is strung up before them, and boils in great kettles. Nearer to mealtime the laundry will be replaced with soup and stew. The fireplaces in the living quarters had been stripped out long ago, replaced with appliances that no longer work. They have to do nearly everything in the great hall now, and gather in smaller rooms. 

The head washerwoman takes his message back to the living quarters and Jaime sits down to wait. There is an armchair that is strikingly comfortable for as old as it looks, upholstered in a velvety material. It might be some kind of antique, something with a PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign on it back when this was a museum. There isn’t much use for antiques anymore. He sits in the chair.

He sits back and stares at nothing for a time. He might have fallen asleep, because the girls appear as if by magic, just as he remembers them but taller and leaner, their chubby faces hollowed by early adulthood. 

Sansa is quite tall, for a Stark anyway. She looks like her mother otherwise; red-haired, high-cheekboned, very pretty. Her sister looks like their father, sturdy and strong-jawed, Northern. They stare at him owlishly, and he wonders what he looks like to them. He is not nearly so changed -- grew a beard, added some lines around his eyes -- but they were children when they saw him last, and they are not children now. He has to look up to see them.

“You came for Brienne,” Arya says abruptly -- as usual she realizes the obvious first and doesn’t hesitate to speak it aloud. 

Jaime nods. There isn’t much more to say than that.

“We had a memorial,” Sansa hovers over him awkwardly, looking unsure. “All of Winterfell came, much of Wintertown as well. We would have waited if we had known you would come.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He says it more sharply than he intends.

Arya snaps back. “You’ve been gone a long time, and not a single letter. What else could we think?”

Sansa stops her with a hand to her shoulder. She was always an empathetic child. “You’re welcome here now. Can I get you anything?”

“Your brother. If he’s here.” His eyes drift to Widow’s Wail, where it sits on the floor beside him. “I’ve heard he was there when it happened. I need to hear it from him.”

Sansa leans forward and touches his hands, briefly. “We can take you to him.”

He can only nod. 

He follows the girls through the old fortress into a more modern living area. Home, most like. The Starks have all congregated here, the ones left.

Jon Snow he has never met before. The girls’ half-brother. Lord Snow of Winterfell, now. He stands straight and stiff, trying to look older than he is. He has a warm parka on over his polar fleece, something puffy and filled with down. It’s hard to be serious in a puffy coat without coming off at least faintly ridiculous, but the young man manages it somehow. 

“She was a great help to my family,” Jon says, and shakes his hand vigorously. “A great fighter, the bravest of all of us, and the kindest too. Every one of us here at Winterfell thought very highly of her.”

“And your mission?” Jaime shuts down the reminiscence quickly. He does not want to remember Brienne here. Certainly not with the Starks.

Jon hangs his head. “It wasn’t a complete waste. But it wasn’t quite what we wanted, either.”

He gestures to a sofa. Jaime sits on the edge of it, unwilling to relax. This is rather too much civilization for him right now. Jon sits down expansively on an easy chair, and runs a hand through wild black hair. 

“We were hoping to find something that would explain where the Others come from. We thought the Black Mountains might have the answer, the mountains and the land beyond. It’s hard to find much on the Mountains though -- only one road is passable, everywhere else is ice and deep snow. Beyond the Mountains there is a place they’re calling Craster’s Keep. We knew something was very wrong there. We should have stayed away.” Jon shakes his head, so serious. 

Jaime waits.

“We suspected they were colluding with the Others somehow. The ones on the Mountain. The old man… it was terrible. What he was doing. We had to put a stop to it. Brienne followed one of the men to their meeting place, where the Others come down the Mountain. She never came back.”

That is rather less definitive than Jaime wants to hear. 

“That’s all? Did you search?” he asks sharply.

Jon looks defensive at first, but softens quickly. “I assure you, if there was anything to find, we would have found it. We were very fond of her. There were signs of a battle, and several Others fallen there. But of her there was no sign. There was no body.” Jon looks reluctant to continue. “We did find this.”

Hesitantly, he holds out the wrapped bundle to Jaime. He knows it immediately. Takes it like he took the grenades, carefully and reluctantly.

His hands unwrap the thing before he can think twice, to show himself what he already knows. It’s Brienne’s titanium bat. Bloodstained, dirty, with a single chip in it near the tip. 

They had nicknamed it Oathkeeper, way back then. It was more like a mythical sword than a bat. Titanium bats weren’t even allowed in baseball, in any league. They hit the ball so hard it was dangerous to the other players. They probably shouldn’t have been made in the first place, and they stopped making them decades before the Others came and their true usefulness became apparent. 

Jaime holds the bat. Brienne had carried this thing for so long. He puts his fingers where she would have put hers, the way a player held it  to hit a ball. He can see the mark of her fingers there, slowly rubbed into the metal across the years. 

Jon is still talking. “These Others are different. Our Others will kill and turn. But these... We suspect that they consume the bodies instead of raising them. I think there was nothing remaining to find.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jaime stands.

“If you will insist…” Jon rises as well, solemn. “My friend Sam stayed behind there. If you reach Craster’s Keep, ask for Sam. He’ll tell you what you need to know.”

*****************  

He passes a night there, lying awake in a bed. 

They gave him her room. A quiet, out-of-the-way guest bedroom with little in the way of modern amenities. It has a homey feeling, just the same. It feels like her.

She left some things there; little knick-knacks. She liked to pick up small things, put them in her pockets. Her coat had loads of pockets hidden everywhere. By the end of the day she would have lots of little treasures. You could turn her upside down and shake her and all sorts of shiny treats would come rolling out. Figurines, stones, tiny toys. They’re arranged all around the room, on the windowsill, on the dresser. Probably if he went through her clothes he would find more things still hidden away in her pockets. The coat, though, that wouldn’t be there in the closet, he knows without looking. She would have it with her, wherever she has gone.

Jaime leaves her things alone. It’s enough to know they’re there, waiting for her. 

Brienne slept in this bed. This is the only home she had, so far as he knows. She stayed here after he left, here at Winterfell. She would have rested here -- she was still a little sick. It had been a few weeks, at least, before she went back to the Kingsroad. After that she came back here between adventures, making the long, dangerous journey there and back again. In the dead of winter she would rest here at least a month, from what he could tell, every year.

He should have stayed with her. 

She never asked him. Not out loud. But he knows, deep down, he would have been welcome. He knew it then, too. But he had left her at Winterfell and gone back. Back to the arms of his family who needed him more than she ever would. Back to his father and his expectations, to his siblings who needed his protection. The job was over, and he went back to where he belonged. 

Not a day has gone by that he doesn’t regret it. 

************************

In the morning he is lacing his new boots in the great hall, a gift from Jon. They are a little large, but warm, and useful for maneuvering on ice. He suspects they had once belonged to Ned Stark; certainly none of the Stark boys have feet this big.

Jon has also given him a down parka like his own. Such a thing would fetch a lot in trade these days, but he insists Jaime take it. “This is the least I can do, for bringing my brother and sisters home.” 

Jaime promises to return it, though he can see that Jon does not expect to see him at Winterfell again. Neither of them do.

His pack has been refilled with food, bandages, antiseptic, and an icepick. Arya had thrust the bag at him wordlessly and turned on her heel and left and he does not see her again. How much and how little people change from when they are small; he can still see the dark-eyed child in the woman she is becoming. It makes him feel positively ancient.

Sansa accompanies him to the gates of Winterfell, gliding elegantly over the snow in her warm winter coat. She chatters as much as she always did, though it was never to him before. She used to keep her distance from him, as she had from most men. She misses Brienne, he realizes, looking at her. She must have been like an older sister, or an aunt, or...

He never did lay eyes on Rickon, did he? He is probably running wild somewhere, running with the wolves. He doesn’t ask, though he suspects Sansa would like him to. Nor does he ask about Willow, or Gendry, or any of the others. He has too much to carry already.

“You’re different,” Sansa tells him, nearing the gates.

“You’re older,” he says. “You see me better.”

“Maybe.” The auburn beauty frowns. “Do you think she’s still alive out there?”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to see the concern on her face, not if it’s for him.

“Do you think Brienne would want you to do this? Go after her like this?”

No. “That won’t stop me.” 

“She would want you to go on with your life.”

“I don’t care.” He can’t quite look at Sansa. He couldn’t look at Arya either. They remind him of too much. 

“Why did you never come back? She waited for you. She was still waiting.”

He shuts his eyes against her. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t. Not now.”

Sansa sniffles, and her voice trembles. “I’m so sorry. You were both so good to us. I’m so sorry,” she repeats, and tries to put her arms around him, but he’s already walking away.

He’s going through the gates of Winterfell, straight down the boulevard of Wintertown.

He doesn’t stop. He turns to the Black Mountains, and keeps walking.

#dreadwulf fic #And You Will Know Them By The Trail of Dead #braime #jaime x brienne #modern AU #Zombie AU #though ASOIAF is already a zombie AU this is just... a different one

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

here’s 5.7k of the unsinkable 8 during the zombie apocalypse. good for fans of leatin and goodfoe. it’s super unedited and i’m mainly just posting it for fun cause i finished it today. some references to world war z the book for fun, and i used the zombies from that too.

A flash of blonde and Dot’s gun went up, pointed directly at the head of whatever made their way toward her. She had two bullets left, six cigarettes, and the last mini of hard liquor she raided from the motel back in Aquilla.

She’d have to get it in one shot, which would be hard sitting down, with her back to it, half delirious.

She grunted as she pulled herself around, her leg still out in the makeshift splint. The zed crept closer, not going at the usual hobbling pace. It definitely had caught her scent though, maybe it was down a few limbs already.

She cocked her gun, flicking off the safety, keeping her finger off the trigger. She’d wait until she could see the whites of its eyes. Get it in one shot.

The blonde head crept closer and she finally tucked her gun over the rocks, making eye contact with it for the first time.

“Shelby Goodkind?”

“Dot Campbell?”

Shelby stared at her, lowering her own gun and Dot let out a breath of relief.

“Dottie, oh my god, I thought you were one of ‘em.” She put away her gun, Dot doing the same and she ran over. “It’s so good to see ya, what’s wrong?” She looked at the leg, her face paling.

“Ankles broken,” Dottie muttered. “Was gonna treat myself to one last drink,” she gestured at the bottle.

“Oh lord,” Shelby said. “Well that’s no good, I got a place not to far from here I’ve been camping out in. Some first aid stuff too.”

“I can’t give you anything back for it,” Dot said.

“We both know two people are more likely to make it,” Shelby said.

She looked sunburned and hollowed out, a little hungrier than the last time Dot saw her, headed with her family to that military base. She was alone, and desperate, everyone was. Because here was how it went in Texas. You could trust a stranger as far as you could throw ‘em, but you needed people to live. So if you had people, you lived. And Dot was people, or as close to people as Shelby was willing to get. She musta lost a lot to lower her standards so far.

“Alright,” Dot said. “We’re gonna have to go slow and you’re gonna have to carry a lot of shit.”

“No problem,” Shelby beamed.

Back at the camp, an old rusting trailer with some battery Shelby told her she was saving for a rainy day, Shelby re-splinted her, fed and watered her, and they pooled their resources. Twenty-six cigs now, which might get ‘em a few hours in a safe car north, if they wanted it. Or it might get ‘em some food, or a get out of jail free card, depending on the hunger of the people hunting ‘em.

It was late at night when Dot realized she hadn’t even asked yet.

“Family’s gone then?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said. “You?”

“My dad died before this shit show,” Dot said.

“Lucky,” Shelby said. She took a swig from the mini, and passed it over to Dot. “What’s your plan?”

“I heard there was a safer spot near San Antonio,” Dot said. “Running water and shit.”

Shelby shook her head, “Gone, three weeks ago. Heard it on the radio.”

Dot nodded, “What about you?”

“Radio said Hawaii’s better,” Shelby said. “There’s an operation ferrying people there on the west coast. It’s a thousand cigs per person. But there’s work by the dock if you’re willing to do it.”

“Work for you?” Dot asked.

Shelby’s jaw tightened, “I’ll do what I have to do. Lord forgive me.”

Dot sighed, “Sounds like we go west then.”

They hung around in the trailer for three days, pushing the limits of what was safe, and stumbled on to a new place in the area at daybreak on the fourth day. Dot’s ankle wasn’t broken, with the inflatable cast Shelby had in a week or so she’d be something regarding useful, and as long as she didn’t push herself she’d be more than fine.

Spending time with Shelby Goodkind was another story. For one thing, despite the zombie apocalypse, complete destruction of their lives and modern society, the death of her family and everyone in their town, Shelby was still good and kind. She’d clutch at the cross around her neck every time they’d pass a body, and would never touch one, even the ones that were recent and obviously not stripped clean. It made Dot kinda mad, she found five cigs just walking, and she wondered how many Shelby passed off being squeamish.

But Shelby also wasn’t squeamish, wasn’t afraid to take down a zed with a kitchen knife, and with that same hand wipe the gore off Dot all gentle. She called her Dottie, gave her the last blanket, and always volunteered for the first shift so Dot could watch the sunrise. Dot hadn’t been cared for in a long while, hadn’t been around people in even longer. She decided she might love it.

But Shelby was a magnet, always had been, she talked about god’s light long enough that she got Dot believing it all fell on her. It wasn’t a real surprise when she showed up with a stray.

“What the fuck,” Dot said. “Did you kidnap a child?”

“I did not kidnap a child,” Shelby said, picking the girl up with some difficulty and lifting her onto the backseat of the broken down minivan they were holed up in.

“I sent you out to get sunscreen,” Dot said. “How did you come back with a child?”

“She’s our age,” Shelby said. “I think. And listen, I found her barricaded in a utility closet with a bad fever, I knew we had some tablets but I didn’t wanna leave her.”

“Like bite fever?” Dot asked. “We don’t have enough bullets to—”

“No,” Shelby shook her head, “Look,” she gently unwrapped a bandage around the girl’s arm, revealing a bad slice. “It’s infected. Not a bite. We’re okay.”

Dot sighed and nodded. The girl’d probably try and rob ‘em blind but if they watched her hands and got away fast enough they should be fine. They’d be fine.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Dot muttered. Shelby smiled, all sweet and gentle and bright and Dot rolled her eyes.

The girl took the tablets, they washed and changed the bandages, after about fourteen hours she blinked awake, unfortunately while Dot was on watch.

“Who—who are you?”

“Dot Campbell,” she said.

The girl stared at her.

“My friend saved your ass,” Dot said. “Shelby.”

“Um,” the girl inched back, “Why? Where am I?”

“We’re on the twenty-two, not from from the ten-eighty,” Dot told her. “You got a nasty infection there, got any cigs?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

Dot blinked at her. “Alright then.”

“My friends will be looking for me,” the girl said. “I should get back to them.” She didn’t have an accent, Dot realized, not even a thin one like her own.

“Shelby found you around Mr. K’s, we can draw you a map if you’d like,” Dot said. “Where you from?”

“Austin,” the girl lied, badly.

“Alright then,” Dot said again. “Well we’ll draw you a map in the mornin and you can leave a day break. It ain’t far.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. “For helping me.”

“Shelby’s idea,” Dot said. Neither of ‘em slept the whole time, the girl smart enough to keep an eye out, and Dot’s whole job to watch out. She woke Shelby up when she was supposed to and easily muddled into a slumber.

A nice thing, about the zombie apocalypse, was Dot had gotten a lot better at sleeping. She used to stay up for hours thinking ‘bout how she’d pay the bills, how much her dad’s meds cost, whether he was coughing more that night than he did most nights, but now she hit whatever soft looking rock she decided to call a pillow and conked out until Shelby woke her. Shelby, on the other hand, barely slept a wink, shooting up at the slightest sign of trouble, even when Dot was on watch. Too much time on her own, Dot’d guess.

Before Shelby Mateo wandered with Dot. He was quiet and sweet and she had took care of him as best she could. Shelby didn’t have nobody before Dot. Just her dead parents, and if Dot remembered eighth grade soccer well enough, a couple of dead siblings too.

So Dot pretty much conked out and missed the way the girl and Shelby giggled all night. But even she wasn’t blind to their bond when she woke, the way the girls smiled easily at one another, laughed with each other, kept up with each other.

“Dottie,” Shelby said. “Martha,” so that was the stranger’s name “said you told her we could draw her a map but Mr. K’s ain’t far, we might as well take her.”

Dot grunted, she didn’t wanna waste a day but it wasn’t like Mr. K’s would take all day and they might as well see if they could find any more cigs. She hadn’t met any non-smokers in a long while. Apocalypse sorta took the fun out of being straight-edge, if Dot had to guess.

Dot took the back, a metal bat out and ready, and Shelby and Martha took the front. Shelby had a makeshift spear made, good for longer range, but worse up close, and she gave Martha the other bat they had. To borrow, Dot had emphasized.

One of the other things that never got old about the apocalypse, was walking up a highway. Walking straight up that middle line, knowing no one would dare drive a car ‘round there. It felt like the world was yours and empty, like you were finding it, rebuilding it, building it. It was as close to a cowboy as she had felt since her daddy let her ride on his back. It was as close to free as she had ever felt.

They got back to Mr. K’s and Dot saw the approaching figures first, aiming her rifle right at ‘em, safety off and gun cocked, but her finger off the trigger. It was Shelby’s hunting rifle, actually, but she had handed it to Dot first chance she had, looking kinda pale. She had Dot’s old handgun now, useless with this kinda range.

“Live ones?” Shelby asked.

“Can’t tell,” Dot said. “Just kinda standing there.”

“They could be waiting for me,” Martha said. Dot glanced at her, hoping the girl wasn’t actually as naive as she seemed. She probably was.

They walked as close as they dared, before Martha was able to confirm that yes it was her friends.

She ran at ‘em and one of ‘em collided with her, slamming her into a hug. There were two more, just kinda watching Dot and Shelby.

“We should go,” Dot said. “We did what we said.”

“Dottie,” Shelby said.

Dot sighed and the two of ‘em trudged up to the happy pair, reuniting like they had been separated for years, decades, instead of a few hours. It was a miracle they were reunited at all, Mateo said he’d meet her back at the camp in an hour and she had to bash his head in six months later with a sledge hammer.

“Who’re your friends, Martha?” One of the other people asked. It was four girls counting Martha, lucky, none of ‘em white, but they all looked around the same age as Dot and Shelby.

“This is Shelby,” Martha grinned, “And Dot.”

Dot nodded at them.

“I am just so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Shelby smiled, holding out her hand to the girl who still had an arm wrapped around Martha.

“This is Toni,” Martha said, squeezing the girl’s side when she didn’t take Shelby’s hand. “And Rachel and Nora.”

“Ah,” Shelby smiled, “Toni your sister right?”

Martha nodded, Toni glared. “Yeah it’s great to meet you or whatever. There a reason you kidnapped Martha?”

“I saw her passed out and worried she was alone,” Shelby explained. “I knew we had some tablets back at the camp but—”

“What do you want?” Rachel asked. “We got about six hundred if that’s—” Martha from Austin, Dot’s ass. Money hadn’t meant shit in Texas for awhile. These kids were from up north, probably pretty far up north too. Maine or some shit. Delaware.

“Got any cigs?” Dot asked.

“Yes,” Nora said. “We have a couple packs.”

“Great,” Dot held out her hands and two packs were dropped into them. Nora didn’t make eye contact the entire time, her hands fidgeting with anything. She was covered in scabs and scars, picking at her own skin probably.

“Where y’all headed?” Shelby asked.

“None of your business,” Toni said.

“Apparently the San Antonio Zone relocated to Tyler,” Martha said. “We heard some people talking about it last week.”

“Y’all got a radio?” Dot asked.

Martha shook her head.

“If you had one you’d know that that’s what they’re pulling now, telling people to go to Tyler, they shoot you as soon as you step foot in Athens.”

“So where are you guys headed?” Rachel demanded.

“West,” Shelby said. “Radio says they’re ferrying clean folks to Hawaii. It’s an island so.”

“Clean how?” Rachel asked, taking a step forward and lifting her jaw.

Dot sighed.

Shelby’s eyes widened, “Clean as in not infected, I mean.”

“Chill,” Rachel smiled, all thin, “I was kidding.”

“Great,” Dot said. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but we should be going.”

“Wait,” Martha said. “It’s just, we might as well go west too. And we might as well go west together.”

“Marty,” Toni grabbed her by her uninjured arm, “I wanna talk to you for a moment.”

They got into a whispered argument for a few minutes. Rachel joined and it escalated but Martha came out on top, smiling as she approached them.

“We might as well go together,” she repeated.

Shelby’s smile was just as wide, “We would be alighted to have you.”

The new girls were a nightmare. Rachel and Nora, sisters as Dot would learn, hated one another. And by hated Dot meant, had a complicated relationship of love without trust or mutual respect. Nora didn’t trust Rachel, Rachel didn’t respect Nora, and they were constantly going at one another. Toni had some sorta toxic jealousy thing going on, despising Shelby because she was monopolizing Martha. She also tended to fly into these rages, making her wander off for long periods that had Dot itching to grab her gun and demanding the girl strip to check for bites. Mateo’s dad used to do the same thing, wander off to check his bite.

Shelby also was wholly focused on two things now: Martha, and Toni’s hate. Dot ambled along behind all of ‘em, keeping the sisters from killing each other, Toni’s voice down, and everyone else alive.

The worst part was it took Dot nearly three days before she caught sight of it.

“You have one hand,” Dot glared at Rachel. Rachel slung the pack over her shoulder.

“You’re just noticing that now?” Rachel asked. “I must be getting better with it.”

“The fuck happened?” Dot said.

“My hand got bit,” Rachel shrugged. “Cut it off before it spread, didn’t even know it would work.”

Dot whistled, low and quiet, like they were all used to being.

“I cut it off,” Nora corrected, sullenly.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I’m still quicker on the draw than you,” Rachel said, the words clunky in her mouth.

Dot set her jaw, “So y’all are sticking with the story that you’re from Austin?”

“We’re from New York,” Nora said. Rachel glared at her. “What? You think some group would waste three days on four teenage girls?”

“New York?” Dot asked. “Everyone knows it’s safer up north, why the hell are you down here?”

“You hear about Yonkers?” Rachel asked.

Dot shook her head.

“It was the last op the US military set up before they fell apart. We’d made it out by then but we watched it happen on the news. Someone in a group we had still had a phone and the whole thing was live streamed. All of the death. The group were supposed to go to some military bases up in Canada but we wanted a wide open space with plenty of guns.”

“Texas,” Dot said.

Rachel nodded.

“Stupid,” Dot told her. “You probably came for San Antonio too.”

Rachel sighed, “Nobody was gonna survive those Canadian winters without a base, and we weren’t sure we were gonna get one. Rather get bit than freeze.”

“How’d you meet Toni and Martha?” Dot asked.

“Toni and I got into a fistfight over some Takis,” Rachel said.

Dot nodded, “Fuego?”

“Fuego.”

And yeah they were a nightmare but quicker than Dot wanted they became her nightmare. Still though, she dragged Shelby away from Martha and Toni’s sides, and muttered, “we can still go. Ditch if you want. Whenever. We don’t know ‘em.”

Shelby, in high school, woulda been scandalized, muttered some bible passage at her. This Shelby was a little more grown and only looked at her all serious.

“You knew what I was when you picked me up,” she said. “And I knew what Martha was. We’ll face our consequences, I reckon.”

Dot nodded.

Walking all day, everyday, wasn’t easy stuff. Especially since they had to strip as many bodies as they could find. Nora figured it out pretty quick, mumbling something to Rachel who recruited Toni to storm over to Dot.

“You don’t smoke them, but you’re hoarding them,” Rachel said. “Why?”

Dot kept her easy pace. “These things are currency now, the value’ll only go up over time.”

“Currency for what?” Toni asked. “What are you trying to buy?”

“You think a ferry to Hawaii is free?” Dot asked. “I’m saving for all of us.”

“Dottie,” Shelby walked over, Martha sticking by Nora, “What’s up?”

“How much?” Toni asked. “Really, how much?”

“A hundred each,” Dot said, too quickly.

“Try again,” Rachel said.

“Dot,” Shelby got between them, looking at Dot. “Thou shalt not lie, right? Tell ‘em the truth.” Dot glared at her and Shelby turned back around to Rachel. “It’s five hundred each. We got about a hundred now, so no one’s going to Hawaii.”

“What if there aren’t enough?” Toni asked. “Who decides then?”

“We’ll draw straws,” Shelby said.

It was as easy a solution as anything but the tenseness started building up, Rachel and Toni viewing Dot with more suspicion. It’d fade, over time, Dot knew. Or they’d all die.

The worst it got, was actually Shelby’s doing, the easy peace maker of it all. They hadn’t bothered building a fire, despite how cold and exposed it got in Texas at night, but they huddled together between three cars they found abandoned along the highway that they pushed into a triangle. Someone got to the seat cushions of all three first, so there was nothing comfortable to lie their heads on. It was easy for Dot though, the asphalt as soft as anything to her now.

They stayed up later than they should’ve talking. Trading stories about their old life that all of them knew weren’t doing any good. Toni played basketball, was pretty good at it too. Rachel had a skill for swimming she’d never have again. Nora did quiz bowl, surprising no one. Dot talked about metal, fishing with her dad, what types of pills sold for what. Martha was a dancer, and a vegetarian once. It was something that made ‘em all crack up. When humans become man eating beasts, and once upon a time there were jokes online about vegans. Shelby talked about the yearbook, mission trips, Andrew.

But then cause Shelby started it by prattling on about Andrew Toni got it in her head to talk about Regan and Shelby was talking about Leviticus.

The next morning, Rachel quietly pulled Dot aside and told her to take all the cigarettes and head out. That they could make their own way west. Dot didn’t ask for an invitation to go with her.

They split off at the twenty-five, Dot and Shelby heading for the forty, Toni, Martha, Rachel, and Nora heading for the sixty.

Shelby was heartbroken for a few days, apologetic too, and grateful. Dot didn’t let her have any of that, only said, “It’s cause we’re from the same town. We might be the only ones from there left.”

They trudged on.

In Arizona Dot found the love of her life, her soulmate, Fatin Jadmani. In a completely straight way too. Fatin matched her tit for tat, spoke a language Dot hadn’t realized she’d been born knowing. Her girlfriend was an anxious woman named Leah, who Shelby got on with. Dot had worried, upon bringing the two back to camp, that Shelby would chase ‘em away again, but she hadn’t. Just smiled at the two of them, easily offering up a couple granola bars.

Whenever tenseness came about Fatin just laughed, and Leah rolled her eyes. It wasn’t perfect, Dot knew, there was too much hate for that, but it would last ‘em long enough. The four of ‘em just worked in this great lovely way.

Only problem was their destination.

“We barely managed to get out of LA,” Leah mumbled, she hugged her legs, her head leaning on Fatin’s shoulder.

“LA?” Shelby asked. “That’s where we’re headed.”

“What the fuck?” Fatin glared at Dot, “Dorthy I thought you had more sense than that.”

“There’s some military guys ferrying people to Hawaii,” Dot said.

“Where’d you hear that, the radio?” Fatin asked. She sighed at their nods, “They’re broadcasting out to whoever will hear it, but there is no ferry to Hawaii. The entire thing is just selling and shipping as many girls out as possible. We have no idea where though.”

“So when you say you barely made it out,” Dot said.

Fatin’s face was grim.

“We have to warn ‘em,” Shelby said.

“Warn who?” Dot asked.

“Toni and the others! They don’t know!” Shelby stood up. “I’ll plot out the course now and we’ll start out fresh tomorrow. We aren’t leaving ‘em to—to—we aren’t leaving ‘em.” She stormed off and Dot watched her go.

“She wants to go towards LA to help some motherfuckers who kicked you out of their group?” Fatin asked.

“Yeah,” Dot said.

“Are you gonna go with her?” Leah asked.

“I knew what she was when I picked her up,” Dot said.

“What do you wanna do?” Leah asked Fatin.

Fatin pressed her cheek to Leah’s head, “I don’t know if I can risk you.” Fatin looked at Dot, “Are you gonna be stupid?”

“No,” Dot said.

“Then we’ll come,” Fatin sighed. “Leah that okay?” Leah nodded.

Neither of ‘em were as good at offing zed as Shelby and Dot. Fatin was decent at finding stuff though, scoping stuff, and Leah had endurance none of the rest of ‘em could match. She was like a zed sometimes, just kept going, could keep going, until her knees wore down to dust and then she’d crawl, crawl until her fingers wore down to nubs and then she’d inch, inch until something put her out of her misery. It terrified Fatin and Shelby, but Dot couldn’t help being impressed.

So Dot ambled after Shelby toward Bethlehem on the forty but they were gonna leap back on the interstate and hopefully head ‘em off. Hopefully Martha, Toni, Rachel, and Nora’d be alive, and they’d find ‘em. And if they didn’t find ‘em, hopefully they’d be dead. And Shelby stopped sleeping about a day or two into trek. Would just keep staring at the maps and keeping watch, and taking inventory and thumbing around her necklace.

When Dot woke up on the third day of their walk, Shelby’s hair was much shorter and Fatin looked real scared. Shelby kept walking and walking and, in a fit of rage that matched Toni’s, launched her necklace off the highway. She looked like she regretted it after but they had no choice but to keep going.

They passed an arm and it looked like Rachel’s.

Shelby walked faster. Leah had that glint in her eye. Fatin took Dot’s hand and looked very very scared.

After two more days Shelby said fuck it, and found a car with some gas in it and told 'em to get in.

Dot stood in front, “Shelby,” Shelby glared at her, “This’ll attract every body in the fucking country. The sound, the smell, I’m not just talking about the dead ones neither.”

Shelby swallowed hard, “You gonna stay behind then?”

“Shelby,” Dot said. “If you leave me here I’ll get caught up in the hoard. That what you want?”

“Get in the damn car, Dottie!” Shelby said.

“If we get to ‘em in time, but there’s a fucking hoard following us, we won’t have anywhere to go but on,” Dot said. “Fucking think!”

“I am thinking,” Shelby spat back. She shoved Dot, “I’m thinking about Toni, and Martha walking from Minnesota to Texas only to die in California. I’m thinking about Nora and Rachel watching Yonkers fall and then getting shipped off to who knows where. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Shelby we can make it,” Leah said.

“No we can’t!” Shelby said. “I’ve done the math, I keep looking at these maps, there’s no way we’ll make it in time without a mode of transportation. No car and they die.”

“Then what the fuck are we going there?” Dot asked. “If it’s too late—”

“It is not too late!” Shelby said, her throat was all closed and choked sounding. “I can save ‘em! Jesus fuckin Christ we have to help ‘em!”

“Shelby,” Dot said, she put a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t take a car, and we can’t make it by foot,” Shelby’s face crumpled. “They’re gone, alright? We should be planning our next move.”

“No,” Leah said. She shook her head, “We have to help them.”

“You don’t even know ‘em,” Dot said.

“I’m not letting four innocent girls go through what I nearly went through,” Leah said.

“I’m with Leah,” Fatin said. “We’ll take the car and play it by ear.”

“Play the-hoard-that-will-start-coming-after-us-the-second-we-turn-on-the-engine by ear?” Dot asked.

“Let’s vote,” Shelby said. “All in favor of going?”

Fatin, Leah, and Shelby all raised their hands.

“C’mon,” Dot begged. She looked at Fatin, “You told me not to be stupid!”

“So don’t be stupid,” Fatin said. “Get in the car.”

Dot sighed, wanted to punch something, wanted to cry, was too tired to do either, got in the car.

The car attracted so many fucking zed, they wouldn’t be able to stop, and they had to hope there was enough in the fucking tank to get them to wherever the four were. Dot watched the dead bodies creep closer, at their slow hobbling, relentless pace. Fatin drove, Shelby used her pike to spear any who got too close, Dot watched the maps and steadily got herself into a panic.

They were gonna die trying to save the asses of some girls they spent a couple days with.

This was not what Shelby was when Dot picked her up, this was not what she was. Shelby had gone behind Dot’s back and fucking grown as a person, hadn’t she? How the fuck was Dot gonna get away from her? She’d have to pack Fatin in a suitcase and then Leah too and that would mean entirely abandoning Shelby to be on her lonesome oh god.

Dot was stuck, wasn’t she.

As they kept driving Shelby had to keep spearing zed. It started off as one or two, but as the hours wore on they were leaning on five, six, a steady growing mass ambling behind ‘em.

If that had really been Rachel’s arm, they were probably dead. All of ‘em. Or maybe in the mass behind ‘em. And if they weren’t, they’d hear the car coming and head for the hills, assuming it meant a hoard was close behind. Which it was.

This was such a fucking terrible idea.

“So what, we just wait for a sign to say welcome to LA and then give up? We won’t find ‘em like this,” Dot said.

“Shut up!” Shelby said, she speared another.

“At least check you ain’t offing one of ours,” Dot said. “They could all be zed, for all we know.”

“I said shut up,” Shelby turned to glare at her and a zed slammed against the door. She speared it and Dot’s mouth clamped shut. “We just gotta keep going,” she said. “We’ll be fine, we just gotta keep moving.”

“You’re crazy,” Dot said.

Shelby didn’t have anything to say to that.

It was worse at nightfall, with visibility down, and they just had to keep going, to hope their car wasn’t stripped when they went over the bumps of mutilated corpses still hungry for a last meal.

“We’re almost to LA,” Shelby said. “We got nearly a hundred cigs, we might be able to bribe someone if they jump us.”

Leah snorted.

They were driving through an empty enough part of Nevada though, less corpses hurling themselves off the road and towards them. Still the ever growing mass behind ‘em now, maybe fifty, seventy five, but about twenty out.

“I gotta piss,” Dot said.

“Hurry,” Fatin said.

Dot stumbled out, no one noticing her grabbing her pack. The zed would follow the car, she’d make a clean break. She’d survive.

She was only seven minutes south, judging by the north star Shelby taught her to find when someone’s hand grabbed her. She pulled out her hand gun, jamming it into the head and flicking the safety off.

“Dot! Jesus Christ!���

The girl was wide-eyed, tan, hollowed out, empty and desperate. Reminded her of the empty pill bottles around her house after her dad died.

“Toni?”

Toni nodded, “Why are you here? Fuck that I don’t give a shit, you got water?” Dot handed it to her and Toni downed it. “The other’s are close, c’mon.” She stumbled as she got up, clearly dizzy, and Dot grabbed her forearm.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys,” Dot said.

“Don’t tell me it’s you in the fucking car,” Toni said. “We’ve been running from that thing for ages.”

“I fucking told Shelby,” Dot said.

“Shelby?” Toni asked, she was almost too exhausted to sound disgusted, but she managed it.

“Listen, LA isn’t safe, we found out. They’re not taking kids to Hawaii, they’re taking them.”

Toni went pale, “Fuck.” She even sounded choked now. “Shelby’s having a fucking aneurysm worrying about you so I don’t even think she’s that fucking homophobic. I’ll get everyone back to the car, you tell ‘em I’m coming.”

Toni nodded, stumbling towards the street and Dot walked back to the direction Toni pointed to before she left. Rachel, Nora, and Martha were all in various points of disarray. Exhausted, dehydrated, starving, aching and bleeding. Dot had to half carry, half drag Nora with Martha and Rachel had to get a stick to lean on as they stumbled toward the street.

“We got like ten minutes,” Fatin said. “People are gonna have to double buckle, and before anyone else makes a decision, we’re going north.”

Dot strapped everyone in and found herself sitting next to Shelby who met her eyes in a hundred yard stare.

“You took your pack.”

“Yeah.”

“But you came back.”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

They started on again. Dot saw Toni keep sneaking glances at Shelby and Shelby kept sneaking ‘em back.

They weren’t far from Mt. Tobin when the two finally stopped dancing around each other.

Dot convinced everyone to ditch the car near LA, walking as quickly as they could once they did, knowing it’d take awhile to ditch the hoard too. Dot watched Toni talk to Shelby in low tones, Shelby full of apologies and panics and Toni keeping her cool longer than Dot had ever seen it.

Martha took to Fatin quickly, everyone did, and Nora and Leah spent long hours walking beside each other mumbling about books or something. Not anything Dot gave two shits about.

Rachel ambled along with Dot most of the time. Whenever Fatin and Leah were all over each other and Dot didn’t feel like third wheeling. Rachel was always listening to the radio and as time passed it became clear that the two of them were the most capable of keeping everyone alive. And not in a more knowledgable way. Because Nora knew what plants were edible, and Shelby was a better shot. Or in an emotional way, because Fatin and Martha handled that. But in a planning sorta way. Because Dot knew how to get them to point B, while Rachel was working on point E.

“We should go to Washington,” Rachel muttered on one of the late nights they spent keeping watch while they poured over maps. “We might be able to find a boat to Victoria.”

“Victoria?” Rachel pointed her out.

“It’s a Canadian island. Canada lasted a little longer than we did, Victoria might not be in such a bad way.”

“Less guns in Canada,” Dot said. “And there might not be a boat that’ll take us there. Plus, we don’t know the currency.”

“We’re eight teenage girls,” Rachel pointed out. “We stick around so close to Cali, we’re asking for trouble. We need to put an ocean between us and whatever the fuck they’re doing there.”

Dot sighed. So they’d go to Washington.

On the way they’d probably run into another group who’d tell them Washington was overrun but there was something decent in Wisconsin. Half way to Wisconsin someone would tell ‘em their information was bad and they need to get south where there were guns and space. They’d almost be in Georgia when someone would tell ‘em there was some real government up in New York again.

They’d follow pipe dream to pipe dream to pipe dream. They’d probably die young.

Toni curled around Shelby, holding Martha’s hand. Fatin and Leah held on for dear life. Rachel didn’t take her eyes off Nora. Dot watched them all.

Yeah they’d probably die young. Better than dying alone.

#gus writes #the wilds #the wilds fanfic #goodfoe fanfic #shoni #leatin fanfic #leatin #dot campbell #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #rachel reid #nora reid #martha blackburn #the unsinkable 8 #the unsinkable eight

[danifics18]

🎃  Dance of the Wolves  🎃

Welcome to day one of Spooky Time Drabbles! I have thirty two prompts that I’m going to attempt to pump out in spirit of Spooky Season! If you want to see a continuation of any of these works- let me know! Once I post the majority of my Spooky Time Drabbles, I will be posting any extra smuts, or small continuations. 

Tags : Werewolf! Mingi//PWP//Marking//Slight ass play//cunnilingus//knotting// 

TW: Mentions of blood

Word Count : 4k

    General Masterlist    Ateez Masterlist

  With a cold breeze skittering down your spine, you place the last box inside your home to look around, figuring out where to place the new Halloween decorations you’d just bought that day.

  Moving away from a big city, to follow the feeling of Wanderlust- as your mother would’ve put it, to end up moving to a much smaller town in a more remote, forest area. It wasn’t even a quarter of the size that your previous town was, but you like it. The neighbors were kind, the community was tight-knit.

  It felt like home.

  And with the feeling of home and wanting to fit in in mind, you decided what better way to fit in than to join the town’s celebration by decorating your house to match the others. 

  Normally, for Halloween, you would’ve left a candy bowl out by your door for anyone in your apartment floor to get, along with hand delivering small bags of candy to your apartment’s security guard - Seokmin - for him and his kids to have, as well as to the elderly couple who lived right down the hall. But, besides that, you weren’t the one to really go out that night, preferring to stay in and watch movies like ‘Halloween Town’ or some other movie that wasn’t deemed as scary. 

  But much to your findings, people here didn’t celebrate Halloween, instead they celebrated something they called ‘The Dance of the Moon’ - where they essentially partied all night at home and at the town square. From what your town mayor , Mr. Song, explained to you, was that hundreds of years ago, the small town had been plagued by wolves. They would go after children, elderly, anyone who couldn’t readily fight back from being eaten. Every time someone was found missing, the townspeople would send a group to kill some wolves; how many people were taken and eaten- that was the amount of wolves that would be killed in return.

  “An eye for an eye,” as the older gentleman had explained, with a hardened look on his face.

  Supposedly, the resolution was found as the town had experimented with what would please the wolves- since back then, the closest town with a decent hunter was days away, and there weren’t enough people to both send out and watch over the rest of the town. The wolves would stop going after a lot of townspeople if there were sacrifices made.

  The Mayor was quick to assure that the legends hadn’t specified human sacrifices- they never exactly said what was sacrificed, really, but for the past thirty years or so, they had been using pigs, goats, or cows that were due to pass on soon. They would drop them off at a specific place in the forest, and knowing that the residents would be safe from any wolves, they would celebrate in the town festival until early dawn. 

  The last piece of information that Mayor Song had dropped on you before he handed you your house key- new residents had to participate in the festival. Seeing that you were the only resident to come in this year- it really is a small town with not a lot of travelers- he asked you to accompany the animals to the post; with his son, Mingi, of course. When you had agreed, Mayor Song had sent you on your way, notifying you that his son would pick you up with his animal hauler at around five, the evening of. 

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  To prepare yourself for the festival- that did make you a little unsettled, but you were sure it was just a stretched out rumor- you spent the week finding whatever Halloween knick-knacks for around the house that you could. 

  You had no plans of dressing up at all for the festival, until one of the ladies- Theresa- working the cash register, had asked if you had your outfit ready yet. With a glace to your face, she had explained that for the festival, people usually wear red, purple, white, and black. It didn’t have to be a full outfit or anything, but you would look like an outsider, since most of the town residents liked their outfits to look from back then. With that in mind, you quickly used up your last days trying to piece together an outfit with the corresponding colors.

  A white, knee-length, lace dress accompanied by a black headband, and purple nail polish. The red garment, however, left you slightly baffled. The only red clothing that you could find was a deep red cloak that you had bought on one of your ‘spurge days’, after getting your first job at seventeen. You didn’t need the item for anything, it just looked so cool that you had to have it. And now, so many years later, you contemplated wearing it- quickly deciding that you’d ask Mingi his opinion when he picked you up, but just in case, you’d wear a lipstick the same shade of red.

⇛                                                                                                                  ⇚ 

  The day of the festival had left a pit of excitement in your gut. You hadn’t had work today- town’s rules that no work was permitted on holidays, and that included town holidays- and the same goes for tomorrow as well, although, it is asked of residents to come to the festival grounds to help clean up.

  As the day dwindled to late afternoon, you decided to head back home to get into your costume for later tonight, and then wait for the mayor’s son. This would be your first time meeting the boy, the only things you know is that you are the same age as him, and he’s got a deep voice- from what your coworker has told you.

  A loud knock on your front door snaps you out of your thoughts, checking yourself over one last time in the foyer mirror, before opening the door to see a tall man with brown hair- styled in a gelled undercut. 

  “Hi, I’m Mingi, it’s nice to meet you”, the mayor’s son reaches his hand out for a handshake, feeling your fingertips and palm tingle from the contact. Feeling thankful that he can’t notice the blush on your face, you shake his hand and return the greeting.

  You both take a moment to look each other over, and you have to admit, he looks good. He’s dressed in a flowy, long sleeve white shirt that has two untied strings in the front of the collar- showing off the black velvet choker with subtle deep purple moons embellished in the fabric - and a pair of cropped black pants. Looking up to meet his eyes properly, you gasp under your breath.

 Hearing a cow moo in the trailer behind him, he suggests that you guys leave now, before quickly turning to walk to his truck. Walking after him, you thank him as he opens your door for you, before he enters on his own side. 

  Throughout the drive, you both make small conversation about your likes and dislikes, finding out that you both had quite a bit in common. You were both shocked to find that you enjoyed things like Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, and neither one of you really like cake. You found out that he was a nature photographer who used to live a few hours away with some friends; he moved back a couple years prior after he had gotten attacked by some people who were illegally hunting who had mistaken him for an animal. He had plans to move back with his friends, he just felt like he should be back in his home roots for such a big injury. 

  Looking out the window, you try to make out any shapes of the passing by trees- the darkness of the early night made the forest a lot darker, being unable to see anything if it weren’t for Mingi’s headlights. For the next thirty minutes, the only view you could see was the dirt path with the occasional flying creature - probably bat - flying above the truck, before flying into the darkness. 

“We are almost where we need to be, there’s a small cabin that this road leads to. From there we can stop and walk the animals a mile out to the post”, Mingi says, his unnaturally bright, honey-colored eyes flashing over to you- being so bright that you can’t decide if they’re real or not. You’d been wanting to ask him since you had first noticed them, but you didn’t want to be nosy, or feel like you were asking a really obvious question. 

  Soon enough, the trees break away to show a meadow, a cabin and a shed in the middle of the clearing. Pulling the truck to a stop in the make-shift dirt driveway, you both get out and walk to the back end, where Mingi opens the back trailer revealing a single cow and two goats. Mingi hands you the leads for the goats as he takes the cow, and you both start walking down a pathway- stopping frequently when the animals decide to graze at the long grass. 

  Neither you or Mingi made conversation, besides the occasional comment towards the animals. Eventually, you both had made it to a pen of sorts, seeing other animals in the pen as well.

  Giving Mingi a questioning glance, he ignores you, taking the leads from you to walk the animals into the pen, before disappearing to the sheltered building, before coming out with handfuls of hay to give to the animals.

  “There’s no wolves out here, you know?” The tall man finally says, “ No actual wolves. Just me,” he finishes giving you a smile,” I know my father meant well, but I was hoping for this to be more natural.” Confused, you start walking backwards, your heart beating so hard you think it might go through your chest. 

  Not waiting for you to say anything, he continues, "I know you must be confused, but I can explain. You should probably stop walking back though; it is a full moon tonight, and my wolf isn’t in the playful mood tonight- especially not with how you smell.” As his last sentence rings through your ears, you quickly decide to ignore his warning, and run down the path back to the cabin.

  As you pump your legs faster you hear a forced laugh from the man, ”So this is the type of mate I have,” the pen gate rustles behind you, and as much as you want to look back, Mingi’s words make you feel the opposite. With the now red colored moon shining your path, you reach the cabin, not being able to decide what to do next. 

  Apparently, you wouldn’t have any time to decide anyways, seeing that as you started to go to the cabin’s door, a large hand grabs your shoulder, halting you from moving. Being forced to turn around, Mingi stares down at your form breathing heavily. Eyes widening, you start to squirm as you see his eyes now a deep red color, before freezing at the deep rumble that comes from his chest. 

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  “You're not too good at following directions, huh? C’mon, let’s get inside, I’ll make some tea and properly explain since you wouldn’t let me earlier. I won’t hurt you- if I had wanted to do that, I could've done that on the trip here,” He tells you with an unimpressed look, before walking you in front of him, to the cabin. 

  Minutes later, you were sitting down on a couch facing the fireplace with tea in hand, as Mingi sat on the recliner angled to the couch, tea in his hand as well. Taking a sip of his beverage, he clears his throat “ So, I’m sure my dad and some people have been talking about tonight’s festival,” you nod “Okay, well pretty much, my dad told you a different version of the town’s legend. We did try sending animals, but they hadn’t worked, it wasn’t until the town herbalist had offered to go out as a sacrifice instead. Seeing that nothing had worked, previously, and she was a recent widow, everyone let her,” Mingi stopped as he heard your soft gasp,” Apparently, she went out, and she did get attacked.”

  He paused, tilting his head as he asks” Did you know that wolves can tell when a human is pregnant?” You nod your head- you’d seen plenty of videos of how wolves in safe havens had reacted towards pregnant guests. Mingi smiles at your knowledge and continues on,” Well unfortunately, they noticed that she was pregnant after attacking her. As she was dying one of the she-wolves approached her, and somehow gave the human her life force- their spirits joining together. The lady survived, but she was the town’s first werewolf- her son being the first born werewolf. Seeing the power she had, the rest of the pack listened to her. As she went back to the town- the villagers considered it a blessing. It isn’t clear how it happened, but she was able to get the villagers to join their spirits with the pack. Of course there were people who rejected- and they left the village,” Mingi stops again sipping his drink.

  “How does that work though? Would that mean the entire town is full of werewolves? Isn’t that unsafe?” You ask, setting your now empty mug, on your lap. 

  “This has never been a town to get a lot of visitors. After a while of the town learning how to be wolves and humans, there were quite a few attempts to kill the pack from the people who’d left. The first woman, at that point she was what we call a Luna, had heard about a witch a few towns over who might be able to help- so they sought her out. After agreeing to help the witch with a small problem, the witch put a circle around the town. Other supernaturals can find the town- but to humans, this entire place is just forest. The only humans who can come here are like you, they’re mated. Destined to be with someone from here. And that person happens to be with me,” Pausing to gauge your reaction, he continues explaining,” Werewolves have mates, and they’re pretty much soulmates. I can tell because your scent is intoxicating for my wolf, it’s a very homey scent. You will be able to feel the pull the more we are around each other- for now, you’d probably get a ticklish feeling if I were to touch you,” You think back to when you’d shook his hands, and the feeling you got when you brushed against his arm- it makes sense, but earlier you had thought it was just your nerves from being around a handsome guy,” But eventually, you will develop a better sense of smell, and probably better hearing and sight- although it won’t be the same as being an actual werewolf. Unless, that is, you choose to reject me?” He questions with his facing down to look at the unlit fireplace.

  Taking a moment to think, you make up your mind before answering,” What do I have to lose?” You get up to place yourself on Mingi’s lap- something that you wouldn’t have done if it were anyone else, but you knew that you were comfortable with him.

  “I’m in a new town that although it might be new and strange, it still feels right. I definitely don’t understand the whole wolf thing, but there’s plenty of time to learn,” You finish, leaning into the large hand that was placed on your face. Feeling his breath on your face, you close your eyes as he gets closer.

  “I’m glad, now shall we go back to town? Everyone was really excited to be around a new face, you know,” Mingi says, placing a kiss on your nose.

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  Weeks turning into months, and months turning into years; two years precisely, you’d never imagined the day that you’d leave this cozy town that you had considered home.

  You and Mingi had officially started dating two weeks after first meeting- although, typically werewolves never really bothered with the whole dating thing, unless they weren’t mates- and you two were still going strong.

  With an influx of new packmates from a neighboring pack alliance, and Mingi’s need for joining back with his friends- which you had found out were actually his formed pack- you two decided to move away, to the plot of land that they owned.

  When you two had first pulled up to the place, you couldn’t help but scoff at your boyfriend’s words. “Only a small plot of land he says. And Disney World is just a small fair, right?” His only response had been a bashful grin. 

  The place still felt very homey, and very similar to your previous town; being located in the middle of nowhere, it was twenty acres of land, fenced off to show the property lines. It was pretty clever- seeing that when you first pulled into the main road in, it honestly looked pretty inconspicuous, if it weren’t for the big fence surrounding the place. 

  Meeting the pack members had made you a bit nervous, but you soon realized that they reminded you of brothers- very teasing, a little annoying at times, but you cared for them, and they cared for you. 

  Thankfully, you guys didn’t share a house together. It was bad enough that most times, you would wake up to find Wooyoung, Hongjoong, or hell- sometimes the entire pack in your house, eating your food and lounging about. Every pack member had their own individual houses- each spread out, and separated by a lot of trees.

  This was extremely helpful when it came to your boyfriend’s mating season.

  Usually, for his rutts, you guys had been fine for the most part. He hadn’t marked you yet, so of course, he would be a bit more aggressive and testy with the other males. But, unfortunately, his heat this time had definitely taken a toll on you both.

  With him being, essentially, part wolf, he can keep track of your cycles pretty well. If he’d noticed that you were bleeding, he’d be more attentive than usual. Early in your relationship, it had embarrassed you that he could literally smell you, but now - although it does cause some embarrassment - it doesn’t make you feel as weirded out, especially since he only tries to help you.

  But, a big downside of this has been him knowing when you’re ovulating. When this starts, you aren’t really allowed to go anywhere; Mingi’s wolf sees this time as your heat, even though humans don’t actually have one. It’s even worse when your ovulation is timed up with his rutt.

⇛                                                                                                                  ⇚ 

  Laying on your stomach with your arms crossed under your head, you blink your eyes open, shutting them as the late afternoon sun works its way through your window. As you decide to fall back asleep before your boyfriend awakens, the hand that is wrapped around your waist, tightens; your naked body shifts under the loose sheet as you get moved to your side.

  You attempt to even out your breath to trick your needy boyfriend into thinking you were still asleep. You loved the attention he gave you during this time, but with how long you two were going at it earlier today - hence why you had taken the nap in the first place - you did have a small worry in the back of your head of you both getting over exhausted.

  Your plan quickly got thrown out the door; a growl emitting from the chest behind you, as Mingi rutts his bare length into your lower back.

  Spotting kisses around your neck and shoulder, your boyfriend speaks.

  “You know, I think it’s so cute,” placing a kiss on your shoulder “That you think I can’t tell when you’re awake,” placing a kiss where your shoulder meets your neck “When I can still smell your sweet cunt beg for attention when I barely graze you,” he finishes with a light bite below your ear; a place that makes you breathe out a whine.

  “Mingi, please,” “Please what?”

 Pouting at his teasing, you pull his hand that’s wrapped around your waist, and place it in between your legs- sure that he can feel the accumulated arousal.

  “Please fuck me, I really need it. I really need you,” You beg, tilting your head to the side as much as you can to tantalize him.

  In an instant, you are shoved onto your stomach, Mingi’s thick thighs straddling yours, his long length resting on your butt. Feeling his precum dripping onto you, you grind your ass up to feel some type of friction- being stopped by Mingi grabbing your hair and pulling you back enough for him to whisper in your ear.

  “Little mate, I suggest you not tease me. I would love to make you properly mine- but if you keep acting up, my wolf will take over, and you will be marked and knotted,” His raspy voice makes your eyes flutter back. Inhaling a deep breath, his hand in your hair tightens, as he undoubtedly smells the new wave of arousal gushing out from his words.

  “Please Mingi. Mark me, knot me, I don’t care. I just need you in -!” Your begging gets cut off as you feel your boyfriend crawl down you- him lifting your hips up, and sliding his tongue through your slit.

  Rolling your eyes back as his talented tongue does wonders on you, he grabs your ass cheeks for more leverage. After sliding his tongue into you a few times, mocking what’s next to come, he travels up, licking at the pink hole between your cheeks. Reaching your arms out behind you, you attempt to hold him in place to continue eating you out. Much to your disappointment, he gets back up to his previous position, holding your hands behind you.

  “Baby, hold yourself open for me,” You quickly obey, grabbing your cheeks to present yourself to him.

  His groan fills your ears, before feeling his cock enter you, him only stopping when his lower stomach is fully resting on you. Being left breathless from the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud moan when he pulls out, only to thrust back in- the power of the thrust shaking your form.

After a few more slower thrusts, his resolve finally breaks, as he starts snapping his hips into yours at a faster pace; the room filling with the sounds of moans, and slapping skin.

  Hands having fallen, you grasp the bed sheet, as you raise your hips back to meet Mingi’s thrusts.

  Feeling his cock throb inside you, you moan out, letting him know you’re close. He bends down closer to you, hips pistoning even faster. If it weren’t for the pillow between the wall and the headboard, you knew that there would for sure be a dent in the wall.

  Placing kisses on your shoulder, to sweeten the blow that was prepared to come, he finally finds your sweet spot; biting down on it as he feels you come around his length. Whining at the intensity of the strong orgasm, you don’t notice the trail of blood running down your collarbone, from where your boyfriend was latched onto you.

  Mingi finally pulls back, slowing down his thrusts as he comes, his cock swelling in size and pumping his seed into you directly.

  Gasping out at the slightly uncomfortable feeling, your attempts to wiggle around are thwarted by Mingi laying his upper body on you- turning your face to kiss it. 

  “So this is what knotting is?” you question, as the uncomfortable feeling subsides, having adjusted to his large size “Yes it is. The knot should go down in around twenty minutes- there was a lot that went in, so it’s going to take a little longer than usual,” He replies with a tired yawn.

  Turning over to your sides, you press your upper body against his before falling asleep feeling content.

#Spooky Time Drabbles #Mingi #Ateez #werewolf mingi #werewolf ateez #kpop #spooky ateez #spooky mingi #spooky kpop

[aion-rsa]

How Dear Evan Hansen Changes the Musical’s Ending

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This article contains Dear Evan Hansen spoilers, both for the movie and the stage show.

No matter how you come to the story of Dear Evan Hansen, and regardless of the medium, things always have to end at the same apple orchard. It’s fitting since Evan’s first major lie about Connor Murphy, the boy who killed himself, was that they spent whole days in the then-abandoned orchard, talking about girls, boats, and whatever other fantasies Evan could concoct. And it’s here that Zoe Murphy, Connor’s younger sister, requests Evan meet her for the story’s final scene.

This is true of the stage show, which took Broadway by storm five years ago—winning six Tonys including for Best Musical and Best Actor for Ben Platt—and it’s the same for the movie, with Platt’s Evan coming to a now renewed orchard and sitting with the cinematic Zoe (Kaitlyn Dever). Among the trees, Evan can see at least one good thing that came out of his lies: The Connor Murphy Project reopened this small slice of paradise.

Yet how Dear Evan Hansen gets to that moment in the movie is drastically different from the stage musical. Then again, so is the world in the five years since the musical’s Broadway debut (and six since it was first performed in Washington D.C.). Hence why director Stephen Chbosky and screenwriter Steven Levenson, who adapted his own book from the stage, have attempted to adjust to our current social climate. The new ending addresses the harshest criticisms about the Evan Hansen character, and the values his tale might promote. This is, after all, a musical about a troubled young man who exploits the suicide of a stranger in his school to increase his popularity and to insinuate himself into the dead boy’s family.

But is the new ending an actual improvement? Well…

How Dear Evan Hansen Ends on Stage

The entire narrative of Dear Evan Hansen pivots on a misunderstanding between Evan and the Murphy family as the latter grieve over the suicide of Connor. When Connor’s parents, Cynthia and Larry, first misconstrue Evan’s letter to himself as their son’s suicide note, Evan attempts to correct them. However, they seem so heartbroken, and Evan is so desperate to please and be accepted—by anyone—he quickly goes along with it and begins spinning tales about his and Connor’s intimate friendship.

The musical is thus a rising crescendo that builds as Evan climbs higher and higher off his mistruths. So the inevitable moment where his house of cards comes crashing down is the narrative’s real climax. And yet, in the original version of Dear Evan Hansen, the story more or less ends right there. After Evan confesses in the song “Words Fail” that he lied about the letter and his entire friendship with Connor, the horrified Murphys walk away from him one by one, with various degrees of disgust. He then comes clean to his mother in the final big song of the show, “So Big / So Small,” where she comforts her son. She’ll never walk away.

The musical then quickly jumps one year into the future, with Evan revealed to be working part-time and attending community college, hoping to save up enough money to someday attend a university. Zoe, who’s now a senior in high school, invites Evan to the orchard where he thanks her family for never revealing his secret to the public—never telling the world he lied about Connor. And, rather incredulously, Zoe absolves Evan and the audience of any guilt. She says, “Everybody needed [the lie] for something.” She even goes so far to say it “saved my parents.” It brought her family closer together.

So while it’s still bittersweet since Evan’s relationship with the Murphys, including Zoe, is forever severed, there are still no real consequences for Evan other than Cynthia and Larry won’t pay for his college education. Even his guilt is assuaged, and he can brag to Zoe that he’s been reading the 10 books Connor said were his favorites in eighth grade. The show more or less ends in a figurative group hug by omitting through a time jump all of the messy fallout from his choices.

How Dear Evan Hansen the Movie Ends

In the film, “Words Fail” is still the climax of the story, with Evan confessing his sins and Zoe walking away. However, in one telling addition, Cynthia (played with delicate fragility by Amy Adams) is barely able to whisper, “I think it’s time for you to leave” while holding back tears. Since she was Evan’s biggest champion, that she is now the one who states explicitly he is disinvited from their home hits hardest.

Then after Evan’s heart-to-heart with his mother (Julianne Moore), we actually see Evan attempt to make amends for his misdeeds. For starters, the whole reason the truth finally came out in both versions of the story is because of the machinations of a schoolmate named Alana (Amandla Stenberg in the film), who accidentally unleashed a whole social media mob on the Murphys, with randos on the internet blaming the parents for Connor’s suicide.

On stage, this plot element is entirely dropped after Evan confesses to the Murphys, who presumably bear the brunt of the social media hate in quiet while protecting Evan’s secret. In the film though, Evan actually attempts to talk to Zoe in school the following week and she asks him to leave her alone. She also reveals the only reason her parents haven’t unmasked what Evan did is because “they’re afraid you’ll do something to yourself.” Like Connor.

Thus Evan gets on Twitter that night and tells the world, “[The Murphys] don’t deserve your hate. I do.” He confesses. Afterward, he again becomes a high school pariah, but we learn in montage he is more content this way as he tries to make further amends to the Murphys by not only reading Connor’s favorite books but tracking down someone’s phone video of Connor during his stint in rehab. Evan even finds footage of Connor playing his guitar, a feat he hid from his parents. The new song “A Little Closer,” which scores the final montage, is revealed to be a melody Connor wrote and sang in rehab, and Evan is able to at least mail that to Connor’s parents. He’s finally given them something true that they didn’t know about their son.

Only then, before the current school year ends, does Zoe invite Evan to an apple orchard and they reminisce about what might’ve been.

Does It Improve Evan Hansen and the Story?

The clear implication for adding these sequences, plus a song that the real Connor Murphy character can sing, is intended to fix the moral and thematic slipperiness at the heart of Dear Evan Hansen. Through a series of hummable ballads by songwriters Benji Pasek and Justin Paul, and some heartbreaking performances, including by Platt in the original cast, the stage production relies on the power of its emotions to overwhelm logic or deeper analysis. Some might even say it manipulates.

Yet over the years, the musical has had its fair share of detractors who pointed out how calculating and toxic the Evan Hansen character can appear. And the fact the musical just ends on the emotional high point without actually bothering to sift through the wreckage of what Evan did has always been a cheat.

Conversely, there are a few fleeting sequences in the stage version where the musical at least briefly seems to consider its darker implications. Evan’s loose group of (bad) friends in Alana and Jared contribute to this element in the song “Good for You,” where they sing in unison, “Well, I guess if I’m not of use, go ahead, you can cut me loose. Go ahead now, I won’t mind.”

The Alana relationship is particularly interesting in the show since it is only after she demands of Evan “how” will he raise $17,000 that he shows her Connor’s “suicide note.” He immediately protests after she decides to post it online, but did he not on some level show it to her in order for her to use it to raise $17,000 and reopen the apple orchard? After this scene, Alana ghosts him, suggesting she was herself only using Evan to brandish her social clout in the school and, eventually, her college applications.

The Dear Evan Hansen movie tries to wipe even this thorniness away. The context of Evan showing the note to Alana is handled slightly differently, but as a consequence there’s no ambiguity on why he showed it to her—he did not intend for her to share it online. She also, like Evan, is softened around the edges when she does answer Evan’s ringing phone on-screen and cries that she tried to take the letter down but it’s still all over social media.

The logic behind the change would seem to make both Evan and Alana more purely sympathetic and blameless for their mistakes. In Alana’s case, she isn’t a master manipulator, and in Evan’s case it is beyond his control when others take things too far. He then puts in the work to help the Murphys, beginning by admitting to the world his dishonesty.

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These were obviously conscious choices made after the five years and full lifetime which passed since 2016—a year where Barack Obama was still president and the #MeToo movement hadn’t yet occurred. Now in an age where social accountability, especially in online life, and alleged authenticity are valued more than ever, having a hero who lies to the world and gets away with it is inherently problematic. So the flaws in Evan’s choices, and even Alana’s, are “fixed” with crocodile tears of regret from Alana, and then Evan making an actual effort to atone for his mistakes.

Yet I would argue it doesn’t actually improve the fundamental issues with the musical. In the case of Alana, having a character show the ugly side of social manipulation, even among ostensibly sympathetic figures, was one of the truer impulses in a story that otherwise glorifies the healing power of finding validation from strangers on the internet. While both the film and show also depict the downside of online life with a discordant singing hydra coming after the Murphys, it’s only because of a couple of misguided mistakes. And in the case of the stage show, the larger message is Evan’s musical platitudes are simply too powerful (or profitable) for the Murphys to shatter.

In 2021, Evan and his creators make the choice that he can admit his mistakes. Yet the story still attempts to justify Evan’s actions, which ironically puts the film at odds with itself. It basks in the splendor of Evan’s self-help ballad, “You Will Be Found,” and then shows him suffering comeuppance for lying—even if Zoe still gives him final absolution.

The one significant change that clicks for me is Evan at least seeking out some hidden truth about Connor, and sharing it with the real people who actually loved him instead of strangers, who in turn would only again offer performative gestures and signaled virtue toward a kid they otherwise ignored. Hearing Colton Ryan’s Connor sing for himself—for the first time in any medium—and not merely be a puppet for Evan’s self-serving fantasies was a significant, moving improvement over how this thread is resolved on the stage.

Still, I think going further in that direction with Evan realizing the crassness of what he created, and the emptiness of his bromides, would’ve made this a more interesting narrative. But what do I know? My instincts wouldn’t have turned this into a Broadway anthem for Generation Z. So how about yourself? Do you like the new ending to Dear Evan Hansen?

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The post How Dear Evan Hansen Changes the Musical’s Ending appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[rosesvioletshardy]

can we do it? - billy/four - chapter 1

chapter 1 here! it took me a while to figure out what i wanted to write because since i sort of am following the movie, i wanted to put scenes of what they do when they are by themselves

i really hope you guys like this story because i know it’s not as good as lawki but i’m really trying here

also good news, i finish my summer classes on the 31st and bad news is that i’m starting a new job which i might not be able to write as much but i’ll try to keep a schedule of when i am going to post.

summary: one team. seven people. two lovers. things are about to get crazy and zero and four don’t know if they can do it with everything that’s going on

masterlist

# of words: 2,201

warnings: none, just a little swearing

inbox me or message me if you want to be added to the taglist for this series

--

It’s been a few days since six died and they had decided to go to the ocean to dump his body. one kept eyeing zero and noticed that she hadn't said anything in those few days. he knew exactly why she was acting the way and wanted to talk to her about her but knew she wasn’t going to listen.

now they were getting ready to go on a boat ready to toss his body over. zero thought it was inhumane but she knew what had to be done.

“i don’t like this” she said as they entered the boat

“well, neither do i but it has to be done mami” three told her as he and four brought six’s body that was in a bag onto the boat.

while they sailed out to the middle of the ocean, no one had said a word. Every now and then they would all take a look at zero who was furthest from six’s body and kept staring at it. The rest of the team, except one, wondered why she reacted most to his death and why she was the way she is. at one point, five had wanted to talk to her but figured it was best to leave her alone for a while. four would glance at her every few seconds and she would be stuck in the same position, sat down on the floor, knees to her chest, staring at his lifeless body.

“okay, we’re here” one said stopping the boat

Three had pulled out shot glasses as well as a bottle rum to give and send off a toast to him.

“Here’s a toast to a kid I liked.”

“Are you crying?” two asked as she noticed tears fall causing zero to look up

“We didn’t even know his name” he finished 

“We don’t know any names.” two told him. This caused zero to roll her eyes seeing that she and one were the only ones who knew their names since he had her look them all up when finding them

“What was his name?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s a good man” one said sitting down next to four

Zero had wanted to speak but she knew if she did, she would end up revealing everything and she didn’t want one to get mad

“Thought i managed the risk. i’m sorry” he finished

“Did he have a family?” five asked him. One looked over at zero and spoke before she could say anything

“I think you’re looking at it, all of us.” two said.

“Well she got something right” zero had thought before one had interrupted her thoughts

“We’re not a family. Not the cleavers”

“What?”

“The Cleavers. Ward, june? Leave it to Beaver? Jerry Matthews? Tony Dow, Barbra Billingsley, Hugh Beaumont? No? Nob-” one had said before zero spoke up for the first time since they’ve set sail

“No one watches your fucking show one!” she yelled before getting up and going to the front.

Everyone had watched her leave before four set his glass down and tried to walk over before one stopped him

“Don’t bother. She just needs to let it all out of her system. I’m sure she’ll come around to it” he told him “When? She's been at it for days now and I'm tired of it. I’m sorry but she needs to know that she’s isn’t the only one who has been affected by this ”

“Just stop. Now it’s time. Just grab the head” 

Four gave up and did what he was told as the rest of them gathered around the body and each grabbed a part

“What does this mean?”

“It means we find a seven and i talk to zero” one answered fours question as they threw the body into the blue ocean

as soon as zero heard the splash, she knew it was over with and that six was gone forever. the team continued to stay on the boat a little longer and finished eating their food and drinking. well all of them except four. he couldn’t help but wonder as to why zero took it harder than him when he and six were almost like brothers. the night began to get darker before one decided it was time to head back out to their trailers. no one said a single word that night as they headed back to their trailers. zero went into her trailer before getting bored and decided she needed to ride around the site to clear her mind a bit. Four was in his trailer watching movies on his phone before he heard ruckus coming out from the window above him. he was confused as to what it was before grabbing his skateboard to go see what it was that was distracting him from relaxing. 

when he got out, he saw zero riding her bike around with her music in what it seemed like to relax herself before he skated closer to her

“bit late to be riding a bike, especially with no lights in’nt” he yelled over to her causing her to almost fall over. He noticed what happened and went closer to her to help her

“What the fuck four?!” she yelled at him as he helped her get up but she just decided to sit down on the ground

“i’m sorry, didn’t mean for that to happen. why are you out here anyways? it’s late and dark out.” he asked sitting down next to her. She didn’t know what to do besides cross her legs and put her head on his shoulder

“don’t know. I guess it’s because of what’s happened the past few days and earlier today. didn’t feel that well mentally about everything.” she told him. Four kept quiet but understood what she was talking about and could see it. He let out a deep sigh and looked back out to their location before talking

“i understand. i don’t know if you heard me yell at one earlier about you, but i’m sorry about it. i haven’t been the best either and i try not to show but i guess there are times where i just burst out. if we’re being honest, i actually cried the night it happened.” 

when he told her that, her head shot up. she didn’t think that he would be the type to cry, seeing that he always had this tough guy exterior like one and three. he turned to her and gave a small nod and sad smile. They both looked into each other's eyes before they slowly leaned in. as soon as their lips were about to touch, zero moved her head away. They both knew it was wrong. One of the first things one had told the group was no relationships or hookups. They were strictly off limits.

“um i’m sorry, we shouldn’t be doing this.” she told him getting up and grabbing her bike before getting on and heading back to her trailer

“No, i’m sorry. i-it’s my fault. Um goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

as they both turned around to head back, four stopped and turned back around and calling out her name

“Zero!”

“What!?”

“Come over to mine, we can watch a movie together”

Zero stood there for a bit debating on whether or not she should go. one hand, she gets to probably get to know more about him than she already knew but on the other hand if she had ended up falling asleep and one found them together, god knows what would happen. She understood why he didn't want them fraternizing with each other or other people while on missions, but she also did understand in case it’ll make them uncomfortable. if they had anymore after the shit show in italy. they walked back to four’s trailer and for her shocking it was surprisingly neat.

“Thinking about how clean it is huh?” he asked as he let her in

zero was speechless and could only nod. Of all the guys she has either dated or hooked up with, they have had messy rooms and had most of her hookups at her place but four wasn’t like them. she went over and sat on his bed as he began to set his phone up and connect it to what seemed like a projector

“you don’t have a dvd player or a tv?” she asked him

“Nah, been pirating movies for a few years now. Saves money”

“Huh, wondered why i never thought of doing that, sure as hell would’ve saved me a lot of money.”

“I take it you’re a big movie fan then?”

“Mmhm, before i “died”, every other weekend my brother and I would go to our parents house and we would go the the theaters and spend the rest of the day with each other” “do you miss them? Your family?” he asked 

“Everyday. I felt like it was a selfish choice to leave them behind. You know? Like i didn’t think about it that much and not even hours later after one asked me i just said yes. Watching my own family having to bury an empty coffin hurt in more ways imaginable.” she told him not even paying attention to what was playing, just staring off into space before finishing

“What about you? Have you always been interested in the parkour thing?” 

“Yeah. feels like i’m free when i do it. Before all of this, I had a group and we used to steal pretty much anything that cost something only millionaires could afford. We were looking for a necklace once, the kalahari, in ukraine. Well I found it and as soon as we fled the police. We jumped from one building to another by using ropes and cables but as soon as i grabbed on and swung, it snapped.” four tells her before letting out a deep breath. Zero could see where the story was going 

“You don’t have to finish if you don’t feel comfortable. I don’t want you to relive something that you didn’t mean to happen.” zero told him grabbing his hand

Four felt a sense of relief. He felt fine but sometimes opening up to people was hard for him, and telling someone how he “died”, even if she was like family to him, made him feel uneasy at the moment. All he could do was nod and turned his head and look into her eyes, as she went back to focusing on the movie. They both did feel something for each other but they had to remember the rules that were set for them once they joined the team. If they got caught they wouldn’t know what to do because it would make everything more awkward than it already were. They continued to watch the movie until zero fell asleep in four’s arms. When he looked down to see asleep, he carefully moved her so she was on his bed and put the blanket over her so she would be comfortable before going over to the couch until he heard her voice

“Four?”

“Yeah? I’m still here” he told her 

“Can you stay with me? I don’t feel-”

“Yeah, yeah, of course” he told her as he got up from the couch and walked back over to his bed and went in. as he laid on his bed, zero wrapped her arms around him and snuggled closer to him while her ear sat where his heart would be. he tried to stay calm and keep a steady heartbeat but he couldn’t until she grabbed his hand and held it. 

“goodnight four.”

“g’night zero”

though four couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t help but look at her and notice the features of her face. he truly wanted to kiss when they were outside together an hour earlier but she didn’t and he understood why she didn’t want to. he then spent the next hour staring at the ceiling before falling asleep holding the girl he loved. she was there when they met and thought she was the most beautiful person in the room. 

Although he almost “died”, he at least was willing to die after meeting her even if they didn’t know each other’s name. He also remembers her yelling at one for the way he was deciding to recruit him and how he actually could’ve died. The first time they actually did talk was a little after they went back to the base. Zero was meant to take care of his injuries that he had gotten from falling about 5 stories down. Turning so he wasn’t on his back anymore, he pulled her closer into his chest and let out a deep sigh before closing his eyes and letting sleep take over his body. I

n his trailer, one saw everything go down between them and began to worry as to what is going to happen and if he was going to talk to them about what’s happening. He knew they liked each other, since the start and always saw the side glances they gave to each other and the way they had conversations. One just didn’t want them being in a relationship ruin everything for the team and what they have become.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben x reader #ben hardy x female reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x y/n #ben jones #ben jones x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fic #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy smut #ben hardy angst #billy!ben x reader #four!ben x reader #four x reader #four!6underground #6 underground #warren worthington iii #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington x reader #cwdi

[coneygoil]

Walking Wounded, part 3

Caryl AU. The waitress at a diner Daryl decides to start frequenting catches his eye, but things are complicated. Now, Daryl is the only thing standing between her and her abusive husband.

Part 1 | Part 2

A pot of grits and some links of deer sausage awaited Carol and her daughter as they emerged from the bedroom the next morning. Daryl gestured to the small, round kitchen table for them to sit and he served them breakfast. Carol sat planted there, wringing her hands in her lap and not knowing how to act. She’d never – not once – had been served breakfast by Ed. Not even on Mother’s Day or her birthday. It felt all kinds of wrong to be the one being served, and she almost couldn’t bare to watch.

“Ran out for a little while to pick up some milk from the Dollar General,” he told her as he pulled out the mix-matched chair across from her. “And some other things you and Sophia may need.” He gestured to the yellow bags on the kitchen counter. “Damn DGs are everywhere these days. Surprised there ain’t one in every yard.”

“Thank you,” Carol gazed at the food like she didn’t know what to do with it, “You didn’t have to. I mean, I don’t have any money to pay you back. Ed never lets me—”

Daryl held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t worry about it. I got enough cash squirreled away to spare some. You and your little girl need things and I’m gonna make sure you have them.”

Daryl switched his attention to Sophia sitting next to him. She hadn’t uttered a word in his presence. Not at the diner nor this morning. She watched him cautiously when he wasn’t looking, but as soon as Daryl turned his attention to her, she’d stiffen and avert her eyes to whatever was below her. Even at 5 years old, she’d learned to not make eye contact with her father, and in doing so, learned to not make contact with any man either. Ed would take it the wrong way – like he thought she was ignoring him -- and whip his belt out. Said she had to learn early how to act properly. All it was doing was training her to be a good whipping post for a man just like her daddy.

“How you this morning, Sophia?” Daryl tried. He was just as gentle with her as he was with Carol. “You sleep good?” When she didn’t respond or look at him, he nodded his head. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk. I ain’t gonna make you.” He pointed to the deer sausage on her plate. “You need to eat. That some good deer. I shot it a couple weeks back. Helps keep my belly full every morning.”

“You said your brother lives here too?” Carol asked. Daryl hummed in reply as he chewed up a piece of sausage. “What’s his name? I can’t remember it.”

“Merle,” Daryl sat back, hoping his brother’s sabbatical would be longer than usual. Merle was going to give him hell for bringing a married woman and her kid into their Dixon boys’ abode. “He’s my older brother. 8 years older. We’ve lived on and off with each other our whole lives. He’s really all I got.”

“He won’t mind us being here?” Carol’s concern was written all over her face. She’d met Merle three or four times, but judging by how he talked, Merle didn’t seem like the most pleasant person to be around.

“Whether he minds or not, he’s not gonna have a say. He’s the one always gone off doing his own thing while I’m here. I think I have more a say so than him. You and your little girl need a place to stay more than he does anyways.”

Carol bristled. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You’re not. Don’t think you are.”

All the reassurance Daryl had given her in the last several hours hadn’t soaked in. Carol had been conditioned to think herself a burden and his words weren’t penetrating that steel wall. She still felt like bolting right out the door.

Sophia had finally begun to move in her spot. She sipped at her glass of milk before taking a merger spoonful of grits. Carol worried most for her daughter. The child had witnessed more violence in her short 5 years than one person did in a lifetime. Their sudden departure was only going to fuel Ed’s anger like gasoline on fire. How would they survive this?

***

After breakfast, Daryl drove them to pick up Carol’s car to bring back to the trailer. Carol was close to spilling tears when she heard her car had been towed away by Ed. He was a lazy son of gun, but when it came to spite, he had all the energy in the world. The loss of Carol’s car was a huge blow. As they made their way back to the trailer, Daryl could tell she was trying to hold back tears as she squashed Sophia to her side.

She didn’t have a vehicle. Not even a car seat for Sophia. No clothes. Possessions. Money. Nothing. It visibly crushed her like a 1000-pound weight.

When they arrived back at the trailer, Daryl quietly asked Carol to talk with him in the bedroom while Sophia watched tv in the living room. Sophia’s eyes widen as big as saucers in alarm, but Carol assured her that Daryl wasn’t like her daddy. Mommy is safe with him. Daryl had to take a deep breath at the very thought that this poor girl had to be told that.

Carol followed him into his bedroom after getting Sophia settled. Her skittishness had come back tenfold as he shut the door behind them.

“Have you thought about going to a women’s shelter?” Daryl regretted the question the moment the words tumbled from his mouth.

A deep frown line creased Carol’s brow. “I did. Several months back. They couldn’t do much more than give me housing. A few necessary items. Ed found us.” Her voice cracked, and Daryl could see a slew of memories playing out behind her eyes. “He caught us on the street. He brought us back home. He did this to me.” Carol pulled up her sleeve to reveal a burn mark just below the back of her left shoulder. “Made me swear I’d never leave like that again. I was his and had no right to go. I swore, because if I didn’t, I knew he would go after Sophia. He never threatened to, but I knew he would.”

Daryl’s chest tightened like a bow sting with every new horrifying reality that she shared. Behind his own eyes, memories of childhood played out. He shook himself free before he could dive too deep within them. This wasn’t about his past life. This was about the gentle, soft-spoken woman standing in front of him that didn’t have a damn person on her side in the entire world.

If he thought about it – really made himself think – he didn’t have anyone either. Merle was all he had, and Daryl didn’t even have him more than half the time. Carol and her daughter needed somebody on their side. Who the hell cared if he would make it his mission to save her? Maybe in the process, she’d somehow save him too. But, that wasn’t anything to think about right now. She was still married to a bastard that needed to be eliminated from her life.

“Then, it’s settled.” Daryl nodded his point. “You and Sophia are staying here.”

“Daryl—” she wanted to protest again. Claim she was a burden. He didn’t want to hear that bull from her.

“You’re staying and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Crossing arms across her chest like a shield, Carol could only nod in agreement. Daryl’s fight depleted somewhat at the sight of her, realizing what he may sound like to her, no matter how softly he spoke his words.

“But,” he feared for what his next statement would bring, “if you want to go, you can go. Not gonna keep you here.” Daryl’s eyes fixed upon hers. He shook his head. “Not like him.”

Carol offered him a small but genuine smile. “I know.”

***

There was a war raging in Carol’s head. Part of it was trying desperately to convince her to return to Ed. She’d take the beating he’d dish out. She’d end up with a busted face and a broken bone or two. Maybe another burn mark to decorate her shoulder. She’d promise to never leave him again. She’d sob and paw at his legs like the pathetic creature he claimed she was. If she begged enough, threw herself at his mercy, maybe he wouldn’t lay a hand on Sophia.

The other part of her was screaming to keep as far away as possible. Daryl was only a customer at a greasy spoon of a diner she worked at. To most, he was plainly a redneck with not much education behind him. Carol saw that he was remarkably so much more than his outward appearance. Every visit to the diner, he’d treated her with the utmost respect and kindness. He proved to her that there were good men out there. She craved more of that goodness.

When he told Carol she could go if she wanted to – back to Ed in her mind-- she fought with the overwhelming need of what she’d been conditioned to do for the last 10 years of her life. She kept her gaze steady on Daryl, fought the secret battle, and won. She would stay with him. She would accept the protection of his wings and care that he generously gave.

They spent most of the day in the trailer. Sophia seemed content to watch tv and color in her coloring book when she was tired of the screen. Carol couldn’t sit still for long. She felt awkward cleaning up another person’s home, but she had to do something to keep her hands busy and her mind off things. While Daryl was out on the small front porch smoking, she dove into cleaning the kitchen. She paused when he walked back in and questioned silently if it was okay when she made eye contact with him. Daryl shrugged a shoulder giving the okay and sat down at the kitchen table.

“I don’t think it’d be smart to stop by your old man’s house for your things right now,” Daryl voiced his concern.

Carol felt absolutely gross in the clothes she’d worn for 24 hours. She needed a good showering and fresh clothing. Thankfully, she had been able to wipe off the night before. Sophia needed to be clean as well. The girl would develop a yeast infection if she didn’t change her underwear soon.

“We can go to the thrift store up on Pearl St. Been there before. They got decent stuff. Nothin’ stained or torn. Stop by the DG on the way back. Get you and Sophia some underclothes.”

Carol paused from wiping the counter. She’d already scrubbed the stove, wiped down the outside of the refrigerator, and washed and tucked away the dishes and pots from breakfast and lunch. Daryl hadn’t commented about her tidying up his home. She had his unspoken blessing to do what she wanted to do, she guessed.

“Daryl—” She had to question it again. She had to hear his explanation once more to convince her. “Why are you doing this for us? Why do you care so much? I mean, you don’t even know me.”

Daryl fixed her with his narrow gaze. “I know you’re someone that needs help. Let me ask you this, Carol—”

A flutter climbed in her chest at the sound of her name across his lips.

“Has anybody helped you before? Has anybody bothered to ask you if you were okay when there was a shiner blinding like the sun on your face?”

She averted her eyes to the floor and swallowed before answering. “No.”

He pushed off the chair and stepped up to her. “That’s why I’m helping you.” He swallowed loudly, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. “That’s why I care. It’s up to you what you do with it. Take it or leave it.”

Carol mulled over his words. It was nearly impossible to believe someone could possibly care for her. She had to chip away the wall Ed erected so strongly inside her head. She had to start today if her and Sophia were to ever have a future. She drew in a deep breath and laid the dishrag over the sink to dry, hoping her words would be answer enough. “Whenever you’re ready to go to the thrift store.”

#caryl #twd: caryl #twd fanfiction #caryl fanfiction #daryl x carol #walking wounded

[boilerevans]

A Waiting Game

Summary: Carrington Price was a small-town girl with a big dream. She just didn’t think it could become real life.

Pairing: Chris Evans / Original Character

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Lots of fluff. I apologize it has taken so long for a new chapter. This semester of classes is already kicking my ass but I should be able to write more.  If you’re interested in becoming part of the taglist, comment or message me. :)

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Carrington didn’t want to admit it, but being on set without Jennifer breathing down her neck was amazing. She felt like she had so much more flexibility to do what she wanted. The director let her watch and listen to filming instead of running all around for props and costumes. Not that it wasn’t important but filming was what she wanted to do. What she loved watching the post was watching Chris transition into Steve.  

Between takes, Chris would find her and watch her every move around the set. He could see in her eyes that she was enjoying every second of the evening. It was amazing to see someone be so passionate about what they loved doing. Chris found himself falling for her. Fasting than he would have ever expected.  

Carrington as they set the next take as Chris walked back to the dark side of the track. Everyone gets set and action is called. The train moves quickly along the tracks and the camera focuses in to see the figure of Chris. He turns his body to catch the green spear that’s thrown towards him and then they call cut.  

The scene resets and they take just one more take before moving onto the next scene. Then he walks forward to reveal himself in the light before pausing to throw the spear back out of the shot.  

As they reset for the next take, Chris notices Carrington looking into the monitor and breaks into a goofy grin, making her laugh.

----

They break for a late dinner and Chris makes his way across the platform to Carrington.  

“You are absolutely beautiful when you work,” Chris says, snaking his arm around her waist.  

She looks up at him and smiles.  

“Are you obsessed with me or something?” She laughs.  

“Is that a problem?”  

“No. Just a little creepy.” She kisses his cheek and they begin to walk to the food onset.  

They both scan the table and find something to tide them over for the next few hours. Chris grabs a chicken wrap and Carrington settles for coffee and fruit.  

“So I’ve been thinking.” Carrington starts to say and sits at a table next to Chris.  

“Yes, ma’am?” Chris asks before taking a bite of his food.  

“Could we actually have our first date here? In Scotland?” She asks timidly.  

“What changed your mind?” He asks.  

“How many people get to say that their first date with someone was in another country?” She chuckles.  

“That is pretty special.”  

Carrington leans her head down on his shoulder and sighs.

“Are you tired sweetheart?” Chris takes his hand and places it on her knee.  

“Only a little.”  

He pushes the coffee cup towards her and she sits up.  

“Drink up Carrie.”  

“Oh, please don’t call me that.”  

“Why not?” He smiles widely.  

“Cooper and my dad have done that since I could walk and it’s the worst thing.”  

“What’s a nickname you do like then?”

“I’ve had people call me Cara before. I don’t mind it. I’d go by my middle name but it’s not much better than Carrington.”  

“What’s your middle name?”  

“You’ll have to get me drunk for me to let that one slip.”  

“I could always ask your brother.” He whispers and reaches to get her phone from her pocket.  

Carrington puts her hand on Chris’s thigh and moves it up towards his waist.  

“I suggest you don’t,” Cara says.  

“Why are you so weird about your brother knowing about me?”  

“Let’s just wait for after the date and then I’ll tell him. By then people will know what we’re filming. I want to tell him. Trust me. He’s my best friend.”  

“You know I wouldn’t let them take your job, right? Like if you and I became too much of a distraction I guess we could move you to different sets.”  

“Thank you.” Cara smiles and gets up from her seat.  

Chris walks up behind her and kisses the top of her head.  

“I care about you and I’m trying my best to show that to you.”  

----

“Alright, everyone. That’s it for tonight. We’ll go again tomorrow at 6. Get some rest.” The director says.

The crowd breaks apart to get in the vans to head back to the main set. Chris follows behind Carrington as she makes her way to the last van. They sit next to each other and wait as other crew members to fill the vehicle. Once the doors are shut and the lights turn off, Chris takes Cara’s hand into his. His thumb grazes the back of her hand. She looks to him in the dark Carrington sees Chris’s blue eyes as the van drives through the city and the lights flash across his face.  

Once they pull up to the trailers, the door to the van opens and everyone files out. Chris walks next to Cara with his arm around her back.  

“I need to go to the costume trailer first. Do you wanna go ahead or come with me?” Chris asks.  

Carrington lets out a yawn.  

“I’ll come with you.”

They turn towards the costume trailer and Chris opens the door for Cara.  

“Hey, Jamie.” Chris says, “Here. You can sit here.”  

Chris puts his hands on the back of a chair and motions Carrington to it. The woman named Jamie comes around the corner and gives Cara a small smile.  

“Hi. I’m Jamie.” She reaches a hand out.  

“Hi. I’m Carrington. The production intern.”  

“Ah. You ready to breathe again Chris?”  

“That would be fantastic. You gotta show me how this thing works so I can get some ventilation between takes tomorrow.”  

They walk towards the back of the trailer behind a divider. Carrington pulls out her phone. Three messages from Copper.  

Cooper: CARRINGTON

Copper: Are you working on the marvel set?!  

Cooper: I don’t care what time it is in Scotland message me back.  

Before texting him back, she goes to twitter to see what information was out there. After some brief searches, she found pictures of the set from not long ago, if you looked closely you could see her and Chris eating dinner. Fuck. Carrington slumped down into the chair. She checked the time, 04:47. Cooper was definitely in bed by now back home. She’d talk to Chris first and then Cooper. She needed to clear her head.  

The door opened behind her and she turned to see Anthony.  

“Are you joining the cast?” He asks and sits in the chair next to her.  

Carrington chuckles, “No. Just waiting on Chris.”  

“Oh get used to that. He’s a slowpoke.”  

“Mackie. How come every time you’re talking to Cara you’re always talking shit about me?” Chris says coming from the back.  

Carrington looks over to Chris and smiles. He was wearing dark gray sweats and a white t-shirt that hugged his body.  

“I figure she should know the real you before she has to find out for herself,” Mackie says and gets up from his seat.  

“I’ll see ya later.” Chris smiles and puts his hand on Anthony’s shoulder.  

Carrington gets up from her seat and walks to the door.  

“You ready babe?” She asks.  

Chris walks up behind her.  

“Please never stop calling me that.” He says roughly.  

As they walk, Carrington moves into Chris’s body. She could never get over how warm he always was.  

He stops walking when they reach his trailer.  

“Do you want to grab some food when you wake up?” Chris asks, “I probably won’t be getting much sleep.”

“Come stay with me.”  

Chris gives a small smile and nods. He takes her hand into his and they continue walking down to her trailer. She opens the door and walks in ahead of him. They both take off their shoes and Chris locks the door.  

“Do you mind if I shower?” Chris asks.  

“Go ahead. I’d join you but my shower is much tinier than your fancy one.”  

Chris comes up to Carrington and wraps his arms around her waist. She looks up at Chris and he kisses her forehead.  

“Will you be awake when I’m done?” He asks.  

“I should be.” She smiles.  

Chris leaves a kiss on Cara’s lips and then heads to the shower. Cara heads to the bedroom quickly cleans the dirty clothes off the floor. She decides to change and throws on an oversized Colts hoodie with some boy shorts. She gets under the covers and gets her laptop from the side of the bed. Carrington checks some emails, reads a few news articles and then she hears the door to the bathroom open.  

Chris walks through the short hallway into the bedroom. His wet hair is slicked back and water drips down his chest. He has a towel wrapped around his waist. He sits in front of Carrington and places a hand on her knee.  

“What are you working on?”

“Just had some emails and I need to send a payment for my loans. Then I’ll be all yours.”  

“Sounds good baby.”  

The nickname makes her smile and she quickly types on her laptop. Once she’s done, she closes the laptop and places it back by the bed. By the time she looks back up, Chris is naked and crawling under the covers.  

“Do you need some clean pants?” Cara chuckles.  

“You mean you have something that would fit me?” He rolls towards her.

“Honey, I’m thicker than you are.”  

Carrington pulls the covers back and goes to her small closet to get out her unpacked suitcase. She rummages through the neatly folded clothes and finds a pair of plaid boxers.  

“Here we are,” Cara says and throws them at Chris.  

“Why do you have men’s boxers?”  

Chris moves the covers to expose his skin. Carrington’s eyes quickly look over his body. He sits up to put the boxers on.

“They’re comfortable to sleep in. Also. Next time don’t rub your bare ass on my bed like that.”  

“Come let me hold you.” He says.  

Carrington gives a small eye roll and gets back under the covers. They both scoot into the middle of the bed and Cara makes her way under Chris’s arm. A small kiss is placed on the top of her head and Chris runs his fingers along her arm.

“Are you tired?” He asks.  

“Just a little. How about you?”  

“I usually struggle to sleep any way but I do feel a little more tired than usual.”

“Let’s just sit and talk.” Cara turns that she can see Chris’s face.  

“Alright.” A small side smile crosses his face and he sits up.  

“Do you want to ask questions and we can just go from there?” She proposes.

Carrington now sits with her legs crisscrossed as she faces Chris.  

“What was college like?”  

“Well, I partied a lot more than I probably should have. My dad was gone after my first semester, so after that, I just let loose. I obviously made it through.” She chuckles, “Then in grad school, I got it together more, remembered how passionate I was. And now here I am.”  

“What’s the worst thing you ever did?”  

“In college?”  

He nods.

“In undergrad, I smoked a lot of pot. Did cocaine for about a semester. Had a few threesomes.”  

Chris closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He looks at her and she looks at him.

“What? Worse than you thought?” She asks.  

“I wouldn’t say worse. Just more than what I thought? If that makes sense?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

There’s a brief silence.

“Have you ever had a threesome?” Carrington asks.  

Chris coughs, “Uh no.”  

Carrington lays back on the bed and lifts her legs up to rest on the wall next to Chris’s head.  

“So the threesomes?” Chris asks.

Carrington lifts up her head, “Yes?”  

“What was the ratio of people?”

“Like all the ratios. Two guys, two girls, a guy and a girl. I’m telling you. Cocaine is crazy.” She lays her head back down on the bed.

“So are you bisexual?”  

Carrington scrunches her eyebrows together.

“No? I don’t think so. I just like sex.”  

Chris gives a small laugh.  

“Nothing wrong with that.”  

“What else do you want to know?”  

“Tell me about your dad.”  

“Oh. Um. Well.”  

“You don’t have to,” Chris says and puts a hand on her stomach.  

“No. It’s fine. I’m just trying to figure out what to say.”

Carrington adjusts her seating. She brings her legs back down and sits up, bringing her legs into her chest.  

“So, my dad’s name is David. David Price. He was born in Texas and he had the thickest accent for as long as I could remember. My mom says it was like that when they met. He went into the army at 18 and straight into Vietnam. He was there for a tour and then came home. Then traveled and worked odd jobs for ten years. Then he met my mom in Kentucky in ‘86. They got pregnant with Cooper 4 months into seeing each other. Dad always said he could never keep his hands-off Mom. Which grossed me out when I was younger, but I understand it now.”  

Carrington takes a pause and moves across the bed to sit on Chris’s lap. She lays her head down on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around her waist.  

“The older I got, the more I noticed my dad had PTSD. I think we got so close because I was the only person he’d talk to about the war. By the time I graduated high school, it was really bad and I was trying to get him to go to therapy since I was leaving for college.”  

“How far away were you from home for undergrad?”  

“4 hours. In another state. I could go anywhere I wanted with dad being a veteran. And then just before winter break, dad drove his car off the overpass of I-465.”

“So that’s what you meant when you said-?”

“That he was gone.”  

“I’m so sorry Carrington.”  

“The first two years were really hard. But Cooper helped a lot once he realized how horrible I was dealing with it. What got to me the most is that my mom didn’t cry when it happened or at the funeral. Every year on his birthday, Cooper and I go drink whiskey and line dance.”

“That sounds like fun.”  

“It is. You could come with us this year if you want?” Carrington sits up to look at him.  

“I thought you didn’t want me to meet your brother?”  

“Well by his birthday, we would have had on our first date, maybe more. And he already knows about me working for Marvel.”

“I’d love to meet him.” He smiles.  

Carrington lifts her head up and places a kiss on Chris’s lips. He brings one of his hands up to hold Carrington’s face.

“We can do to bed now if you want.”  

“I’d like to keep talking if that’s okay?”  

“Of course, that’s fine. I like how you talk about things.”

Carrington chuckles and lays her head back down Chris’s shoulder. They sit in silence for a while as Chris thinks about what to talk about. He starts to rub his hands along her sides.  

“Mmm, that feels good.”  

“Do you want a back rub?” Chris whispers in her ear.

“Oh my god, that would be amazing.”  

“Well, you’ll have to get up first.” He says softly.  

Carrington groans and moves off of Chris’s lap. She pulls her shirt off of her head and sets it on the bed. Cara watches as Chris’s eyes move across her bare chest. She lays down on the bed and crosses her arms under her head.  

“Is it alright if I sit on your legs?”  

“That’s fine.”  

Carrington closes her eyes and can hear Chris rub his hands together to warm them up. He moves over and straddles over the top of Carrington’s legs. The palms of his hands start at the bottom of her spine and move them up to her shoulders.  

“Mmm.” Cara moans.

A small smile crosses Chris’s face and he begins to work on one of her shoulders.  

“So why cocaine?” He asks.  

“It was a better high. A lot of fun at the time.”  

“And do you still smoke?”  

“Sometimes. Not often.”  

“I used to smoke a lot too. But slowed down. I started to lose focus.”  

“Yeah. I get that.”  

Chris’s hands are now in the middle of her back making their way back down her spine.

“You’re really good at this.” She says.  

“I like to make sure my girl is taken care of.”

“Your girl huh?”  

Chris gets off of Carrington’s legs and lays back down next to her. Cara rolls over to face him.

“You may not think you’re my girl yet, but soon enough you’ll see you are all mine.”

“Like in a loving way, right?”  

“The most loving way.”  

Chris leans into her and begins leaving kisses on her neck.

“Chris!” Carrington giggles and puts her hands on the sides of his face.

“What?” He says and starts kissing the other side of her neck.

“We need to sleep.”  

“I know. I’m just kissing you.”  

“It feels like you’re doing a lot more than just kissing me.”

He pulls back and pushes some hair back behind her ear.  

“Okay. I’ll stop.”  

“Just give me a few hours to sleep. Then we can do all kinds of dirty things.”  

“I can work with that.”  

Chris moves his arm so that Carrington can put her head on his chest.  

“Sleep tight sweetheart.”

Taglist: @katedrexel @denisemarieangelina @smilexcaptainx @winnielinleigh

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #steve rogers #Avengers infinity war #infinity war #Avengers #Long Read

[benisasoftboi]

Unorganised Thoughts on Cindered Shadows:

Spoilers! All the spoilers!

Yeah it took me a week to finish it, as always, I’ve been busy

It’s possible that someone will remember that I’ve made a few of these, and that I said I’d be doing Crimson Flower next, but haven’t. I have finished that route. I wrote something up. It ended up being over 8000 words long. I decided no one would want to read 8000 words of me complaining about fantasy politics, and did not post it

If anyone is interested in knowing in detail what I think about any or all of the following: Edelgard (short version: good in concept, but severely let down by the writing), Fodlan’s politics (surprisingly complex! Which is why the main characters’ having such simple and naive politics is so frustrating!), Rhea and the church (she creeps me out), general opinions on minor things (most controversial: I actually like F!Byleth’s outfit) or various shipping opinions/headcanons (I like pretty much any pairing except Dimitri/Anyone, and Linhardt and Caspar with anybody but each other), give me a shout and let me know. I won’t be holding my breath, but like... if you want me to ramble I wouldn’t say no

Anyway! Cindered Shadows!

New characters ranked by how much I like them as characters, most to least: Yuri, Hapi, Constance, Balthus 

Reasoning: I love pretty boys because I am, emotionally, still 12, stoic-type girls are also great and I love her design, she annoyed me a little at first but I thought the sunlight thing was interesting and she eventually grew on me, and I don’t dislike him at all, he’s just the least interesting to me

New characters ranked by how much I like them as units: Balthus, Yuri, Constance, Hapi (ugh, I really like her but she was total deadweight for me)

I’ve always really, really loved the concept of both underground cities and groups of people who have nothing in common aside from being outsiders, bound together by that one shared trait - so I. Love. Abyss. I wish the whole game was set there, it’s so cool

Some really good maps! Actually, let’s review each level:

1: Good intro to the Wolves. Aside from the ‘secret fourth house’ line, which is bad and makes what is otherwise a great concept sound really dumb. But the map itself makes for a very good demonstration of each of the Wolves’s deals. Bit messed up that you kill a bunch of Abyssians and no one really addresses that again, though

2: Even the game comments on the fact that releasing four waves of enemies in a circle gets tiresome. Least favourite

3: Wish the game had been a little clearer of the exact requirements for finishing the map. Also, enough reinforcements to almost be too annoying, but it managed to just avoid that, for me at least

4: This fucking level. I love an escape map in concept, but that goddamn doll at the start. I don’t know how I would have beat it if I hadn’t realised Edelgard can be reclassed out of her armor for better movement (speaking of deadweight units... was the same on Crimson Flower, Lord ranking in terms of actual usefulness in battle is Claude > Dimitri >>> Edelgard, and I say this as someone who normally loves defense-based units in video games). Anyway, despite the fact that it took me like six tries, this was my favourite of the lot - partly because it was so satisfying to finally beat, and partly because, like I say, I just love the concept

5: Breather level, thankfully. Cool to see Metodey again. But... why is he there??? I made Edelgard kill defeat him

6: Starts out really hard and gets easier. Biggest problem for me was the Bolting mages. I found that the trick was to use Ashe’s battalion gambit on Byleth and counter from afar with the Sword of the Creator. Map’s a cinche after they’re gone

7: A really, really cool final boss fight, and really great to just get to fight a big monster without having to slog through hundreds of other enemies as well (two per turn is fine, gives characters like Ashe who are too weak to fight the boss something to do). And there’s no way I could find to cheap it like on Crimson Flower (something I had to do then because of Cyril and his goddamn Murder Axe). Only wish it wasn’t the case that half of the Wolves can basically never touch the boss without being insta-killed. Hapi and Constance should have been able to do more than Phantom Aelfric Clean-Up

It was really nice getting to have all the Lords work together. I had Edelgard and Dimitri do a Gambit Boost and it was weirdly emotional

Am upset that no supports were available. Primarily because this would have been a great opportunity to add some side-story exclusive supports between the Lords. I get why they couldn’t do that in the main game, but I think the lack of any connection between them (besides the mostly one-sided Dimitri->Edelgard) is one of the game’s biggest downfalls, and this could have at least compensated a little

At least we got a few conversations in Abyss

Oh I wonder who the traitor could be, who is it, of the five characters we’ve met it couldn’t possibly be the really generic looking old guy who wasn’t in the trailer oh my god I’m so shocked it WAS him this is an unprecedented twist the likes of which we will never be graced with again

Liked getting some back story and an actual name for Byleth’s mother

I want to know how ‘Noa Fruit’ became a thing. Linhardt alludes to it, but I want that lore. Give me the Fruit Lore, Intsys

Also give me Mysterious Woman lore

I’ve said this before, but Gatekeeper x Abysskeeper OTP

Why can’t Yuri and Linhardt support I want them to bond over being smart bisexual pretty boys with grappler best friends (I have a very long mental list of characters who should have had supports together but don’t) 

Yuri’s make-up is gorgeous. Love that design choice

The ‘Nabatean Chalice’ reminded me - I’ve kind of always wondered if Nabatea is meant to be a call back to Nabata from the Elibe games, or if it’s just coincidence that they sound similar

Will we ever find out anything about the Crest of Ernest or nah? (Fiver says if ever, it’ll be randomly explained in a Forging Bonds in FEH like three years from now. Wouldn’t put it past them) 

So Byleth’s nickname was the ‘Ashen Demon’. And these guys are the ‘Ashen Wolves’. I kind of figured that would come up? Was it a translation thing?

I love how the reasons for each of the Wolves being in Abyss were “I barely escaped execution by the Church for the crime of murder”, “I was experimented on and now have dangerous magical powers”, “I’m the last surviving member of a collapsed noble family” and “I’m in like, so much debt, lol”. Kind of makes me wonder if Leonie ends up down there in some of her endings

Although I hear that there’s actually a little more to Balthus, as revealed by supports. I haven’t seen all of them yet, the only one I’ve looked up was Dimitri and Hapi because those two interacting intrigued me and... I know what I said above, but this might actually be a Dimitri pairing I don’t dislike? What is this???

I’ll watch the rest at some point, but won’t be starting a new 3H playthrough. Rune Factory 4 Special finally comes out next week and the moment my pre-ordered Archival Edition shows up at my door, it’ll be Fire Emblem who? The only dragon I know is Ventuswill, and the only empire I’m worried about is the unfortunately named ‘Sechs Empire’

Although, the fact that Kiel and Caspar have the exact same voice might end up being... hmmm

Eh, I got over Doug and Yosuke Hanamura. It’ll be fine :)

#fire emblem #fe #three houses #fe3h #cindered shadows #cindered shadows spoilers

[theangriestpea]

Mercy Killing

A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little short. I just thought ending it where I did was perfect. There's a tiny bit of fluff though so enjoy! Coss-posted on AO3!

Chapter Five: Apologies

Dinner was strained. No one mentioned the elephant in the room. Lavender and Sweet Pea could barely look at one another. Fangs struggled to keep conversation going but it was hard when it was all one-sided. Toni and Cheryl kept stealing glances at one another, also having a hard time coping with this newfound turn to events.

“I have to watch my sister again tonight. Mom is working.” Fangs said, checking the time on the old clock in the kitchen where they were cleaning up.

Lav almost dropped the dish she was rinsing off. “What? You can’t stay?” She asked, a pleading edge to her voice. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with a moody Sweet Pea. “Cheryl and Toni have that River Vixens event tonight so they will be gone…I was hoping you’d lay in bed with me to help me sleep.”

As much as she hated depending on everyone, she had figured that Fangs would at least be kind enough to hold her like Cheryl and Toni did early that morning. Of course she was going to wear something that covered her a little more. Not that she didn’t trust him but she wasn’t as comfortable parading around in her underwear with him. Now that she knew that they hadn’t had sex, she felt incredibly awkward around him. As if the mistake might have offended him.

Of course Fangs was just flattered that she even entertained the thought of having a rough romp with him in the Wyrm. Though he was somewhat jealous of Sweet Pea having a go at her, he wasn’t going to say anything to Lav about it to make her any more uncomfortable than she obviously already was.

“Ask Sweet Pea.” Fangs suggested, only half joking. He knew deep down that his bestie was a cuddler. He’d seen the way he’d hold a pillow as he slept. The material clutched tightly to his chest as if he were protecting the old down feathers hidden inside.

Lav almost dropped the dish again. “I am not laying in a bed alone with Sweet Pea.” She hissed out, the suggestion being completely out of the question. “There’s no fucking way.”

“Why? You’ve already casually fucked. Once you two both talk about it, it’ll be a lot better. Maybe this is a good thing, maybe he’ll realize what a nice piece of ass you are and stop pushing you away.” Fangs said as he lifted his shoulders into a dismissive shrug.

She decided to ignore his comment about her just being a piece of tail. Usually when Fangs objectified women he was just joking about it. He was never serious. “He won’t.” She replied hotly. “He’ll never say yes.” She added after a moment of thought. “He probably didn’t even enjoy it.”

Fangs laughed lightly, “I think he did and that’s why he was so mad. Though he did say you came too soon.”

Lav blushed furiously as she smacked him on the arm, “that’s not funny! I couldn’t help it! I haven’t…I haven’t had a lot of sex so I still don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”

“So you got over excited and Sweet Pea was just so fucking good that you got overwhelmed and couldn’t hold back. It happens to the best of us.” Fangs said with a lopsided smile. “Maybe next time you can go longer or just have multiple.”

She shoved him with her good hand, “we are not doing it again!”

“But you enjoyed it so much!” Fangs said, trying to persuade her that it wasn’t a terrible idea. “And have you even had sex since then?”

Lav looked away from him, still embarrassed, “well, no…but that’s because all the guys around here are jerks. Including Sweet Pea.”

“What about me?” Fangs said with an adorable pout.

She rolled her eyes, “except you, Fogarty. You’re still the best I ever had, even if it was just in my dreams.” She joked.

“Oh so you have dreamed of me?” Fangs said, his pout sliding into a smirk. “Good to know.”

Lav let out a playful scoff. In the next room she heard the TV being turned up louder. It had to have been Sweet Pea since the Vixens had left already. She shot a look to the doorway that showed how annoyed she was at the loud sounds of explosions coming from the living room.

Fangs finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “There, all done. Now, I have to go. Have fun tonight and don’t forget to use a condom.”

“Fangs!” Lav snapped, hitting him a third time. “No!” She said as if he were a dog doing something bad. He chuckled, shaking his head as he walked out. He said his goodbyes to Sweets before leaving.

Lavender stood in the kitchen for a moment before gathering up her courage. She walked into the living room, eyes pulling to Sweet Pea as he stared intently at the television. “It’s time for you to take your pills.” He said in a voice that was indiscernible. It wasn’t as rough as it usually was but it wasn’t soft either. Somewhere in between as if he didn’t really know how to say it. As if his feelings were just as conflicted as hers.

She gave a small nod, disappearing into her room to take her antibiotics and pain medicine. “Sweet Pea…?” She called out to him, just loud enough for him to hear over the booming television.

Silence filled the trailer as he cut the TV off and walked into her room. Confusion washed over his eyes as he noticed her in nothing but bra and underwear. He jaw clenched and his fingers twitched as he remembered what it felt like to touch her that night. He tried to push the memories into the back of his mind where he wouldn’t have to think about them.

“Can you dress my cuts?” Lav asked sheepishly, not looking at him. Her eyes stayed glue to the floor.

Sweet Pea let out a soft sigh before nodding his head. He walked over to her and just as he had the night before, started to tend to her healing wounds. His touch was delicate and light. His hands however lingered on her thighs, tracing the oval bruises as his thoughts ran deep.

Lav shuddered under his fingertips, however she didn’t say anything to him. She let him treat her cuts at his own pace. Her lower lip caught between her teeth as he looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. It was so unnerving that her knees began to shake.

“I’m sorry.” Sweet Pea said after addressing the laceration on her stomach. He had been reamed by Cheryl for what he said to Lav about her being stupid. She made sure to tell him in her very intricate vocabulary that he was the one that was a dumbass and that what he had said had made Lav feel even worse than she already did. That hadn’t been his intention. She woefully set him straight.

Their eyes connected and he realized that she had no idea what he was talking about. “For what I said.” He added, quickly looking away from her as his cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “For calling you dumb.”

Her breath hitched in her throat as he stood up, having been kneeling down to tend to her thighs and abdomen. “You’re not stupid.” He added, sounding a little more confident in what he was saying.

“Thanks.” Lav said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. A spark of happiness ignited through her chest. Sweet Pea had never apologized for the way he acted towards her. He never made excuses either. He just was. Perhaps this meant he didn’t hate her after all. Perhaps Fangs was on to something.

Sweet Pea was tenderly touching her face now in a way that had her edging closer to him. He peeled back the tape and revealed the mars on her cheek. A frown graced his pink lips as he looked over the galaxy of her skin. The blue, purple, and blacks spreading across her face where her broken orbital bone was. The surface was swollen and angry.

He dabbed ointment onto each cut, his eyes never leaving her face as he worked. Her smile became more visible as he went on, grabbing a new gauze pad to put over the wounds.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” She finally asked, her stomach a bundle of nerves from not knowing what his answer would be. His face was a mixture of confusion and frustration. His expression made her stomach drop and suddenly she felt very stupid for getting her hopes up. “You’re too big for the couch. You’ll fit better in my bed and…I don’t want to be alone.” She added, jumbling her words as she said them quickly.

Sweet Pea mulled it over while they stood in an awkward, tense silence. Lav shifted nervously, her body acting like it was on repeat as she kept moving her weight from one foot to the other.

He really hated her couch. It was lumpy and uncomfortable and his feet hung off the side. Her bed was only a full-size so they’d be touching but would that really be so bad? After what they had done that night at the Wyrm? After he cleaned her up and tended to her gashes.

It was also highly likely that she’d wake him up screaming if he didn’t lie with her. That was not something he really wanted to go through again. “Let me change.” He replied, disappearing from her room as his hand dropped from touching her face. “Put some clothes on!” He shouted from the living room and he rummaged through his bag of clothes.

Lav shook her head, smiling again as a blossom of excitement bloomed inside of her. She took off her bra before putting on an oversized T-shirt and a pair of cloth shorts. Getting dressed was easier now that the worse of the pain had dissipated. Her ribs and face still ached terribly but that was to be expected. Between her legs, her core was sore as the cuts were still healing. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes tight so she wouldn’t have to think about it.

“I need to know what they used.” Jughead’s voice sounded in her head. Water filled her eyes and she used the heels of her hands to gently rub them dry. He didn’t need to know, she thought bitterly. No one needed to know.

She turned the light out before crawling into bed, curling into as tight of a ball as possible without hurting her fractured bones. I need to know- her thought was interrupted by the sinking of the bed. Sweet Pea laid down beside her in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white tank top.

She looked at him with a terribly fragile expression. One that made him wrap his arm around her and pull her to his chest securely for comfort. He didn’t know what he was doing or why he was doing it. It just felt natural.

Lav didn’t fight him, she leaned back against him and let out a small breath of relief. His arm was around her small waist, in a perfect spot between the mess of gauze on her lower stomach and the bands of cloth around her ribs. His nose nestled sweetly into her hair as if it were meant to have been there all along.

Feeling safer than she had in a long time, Lav fell asleep.

*~~~~~~~~~~~*

Her clothes were ripping, her skin was aching, and all she could hear was cruel laughter falling from black painted lips. Hollow eyes glittering with heinous joy as their claws tore into her flesh. Blood splattered around her, pooling against her cold body. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. Her limbs felt like they were wrapped in cement as firm grips held her down.

Her legs were pulled apart and she felt as if she was being torn. Light glinted off the blades that were being used to etch scars into her skin. It blinded her with pain. It seemed to last for hours, darkness creeping across her body as she was abased by what was happening to her.

Lav

They pulled on her limbs and she felt as though she might rip in half.

Lavender

She felt herself tearing down the middle. Her mouth opened but no sound came from her chapped lips as she tried to wretch out a scream.

Shanna

The darkness started fade. The cement around her limbs dissolving. Her tarnished tissue healing itself as her body was once again whole.

Lavender opened her eyes. Her wide pupils swept away with panic as they searched over the baby face hovering over her. Strong arms on either side of her. She felt trapped, claustrophobic. Brown eyes full of emotions she couldn’t name as she searched them for malice or contempt. She found none.

Her thoughts buzzed around like bees in her head before settling into the hive of her brain. Recognition came over her as she realized that the boy over her wasn’t going to hurt her. “Sorry.” She muttered, dry eyes suddenly becoming wet, “I’m so sorry.”

Sweet Pea stared down at her, finally moving off to the side to simply hold her as she cried. The awkward feeling in his chest didn’t move as he searched for words he knew he didn’t want to say. “It’s okay.” He mumbled, his grip on her tight like it was that night in the bar. “It’s okay.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea fluff #riverdale fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #mercykilling #purpuraserpenta #soft pea

[nycbecomehuman]

Series: Detroit: Become Human Rating: T Genre: Adventure/Drama/Action (eventual romance) Summary: Before Connor, first of the RK800 line, began his fateful investigation of deviant androids, there was Jacob, the RK700 that preceded him. He failed in his assignment, but he did not go quiet into the night when he was decommissioned. Rather, he became the thing he had once hunted and disappeared into the depths of New York City in search of a new life.

( < Back to part 1 /< Back to part 7 )

Part 8 - Unattended

The truck had carried him further than Seven had dared to hope it would by the time it exited the freeway half an hour later. He peered carefully out from under the tarp after donning his backpack once more, and was relieved to see no one else around, no doubt thanks to the hour, which meant there was no one but the driver to witness the quick exit he made from the trailer. He kept low and ducked behind the limited cover provided by a light post before peering back at the truck to see if the driver had, in fact, spotted him.

Luckily, the night seemed to be wearing on the human, and they were more occupied with stifling a yawn than noticing a rogue android appearing from the rear of their vehicle.

Seven watched the truck pull away as the light turned green before pushing to his feet and straightening the straps of his bag on his shoulders. The vehicle made a left into the dark, and the android went the opposite direction, cutting across a dimly lit parking lot to the next street over. The ride Seven had hitched had gotten him a good ways towards the nearest Greyhound station, but he still had a long walk ahead of him.

Seven walked into the wee hours of the morning, opting to avoid taking any official, trackable transportation in favor of staying off the grid on his way to the bus station. It would have taken a human longer, but being as he didn't need to stop to rest the along way, the android made good time.

Before entering, he cased the station from the shadows of an alley across the street, watching people come and go until he determined, as well as he could, that there wasn't anyone particularly suspicious within the building. The station itself did have security cameras, he realized as he stepped inside, but it took little more than a thought for him to hack into their simple, low tech system and put the feed on a loop that a casual security guard was unlikely to notice.

He acquired a bus ticket to New York with little issue, though Seven had a brief moment of worry that it might look suspicious buying one at such an hour, and in cash to boot. Fortunately, the tired looking human employee seemed incapable of caring less about what anyone else was doing so long as it wasn't making their job any harder, and said nothing more than the bare minimum needed to complete the transaction.

That done, Seven stepped aside and considered his options for a moment. There were hours to burn before his bus left, and while he could probably sit around the terminal unbothered until then, the thought of sticking in one place for so long made the android feel... antsy. Remaining still left him open to being noticed, and yet he couldn’t go far from the station either, and wandering the streets aimlessly provided its own level of risk.

Realizing that standing about was likely to attract attention, Seven shed his backpack and took a seat along the wall. The chairs would no doubt have been uncomfortable for a human, hard, plastic, and possessing inconveniently placed arm rests as they did, but the android didn’t notice as he examined the room from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses.

The bus station was a large one, and there were at least a dozen people there, some of whom appeared to be traveling with an android. To a one, all of the humans appeared tired, annoyed, or at least vaguely uncomfortable as they waited around for their buses to leave, and Seven couldn’t blame them. There was something distinctly unwelcoming about the station that the android couldn’t quite put a finger on; an almost dirty feeling despite the fact that everything at least appeared quite clean.

Another, more important, observation Seven made was the fact that almost every human had their attention either on one of the muted televisions scattered around the place, or on their phone. The android’s brow furrowed at this as his gaze drifted across the room. Eight of the twelve humans around him were actively looking at their phones, and the rest at least checked them occasionally, causing Seven to come to a new conclusion.

If he was going to blend in, he was going to need a phone of his own.

Sure, he didn’t technically need one; advanced as his system was, he could access wireless and cellular networks with a thought, after all. Watching the humans around the station, however, Seven had to acknowledge that his complete lack of one would seem strange to the outside observer in this day and age.

Seven closed his eyes and sank down in his chair a little until his head rested against the wall as he cradled his bag loosely against him to keep someone from running off with it, then considered his mission to-do list again. After a moment, he zeroed in on one point in particular.

Bullet point three: Find a disguise that would allow him to blend in with the human population.

Below that he added a few new sub-points:

Acquire cell phone

Acquire further clothing as possible

Synthetic as he was, Seven didn’t have to worry about his own physiology dirtying the clothes he had acquired, but that didn’t mean the world around him wouldn’t. Not to mention the fact that wearing nice slacks with a hoodie and sunglasses was a bit of a strange look. His shoes were also very good quality, and considering he was probably going to need to lay low in some of the less savory parts of New York City when he got there, the last thing he needed was to get jumped for his footwear.

A quick internet search revealed that there was a Goodwill within reasonable walking distance, though it wouldn’t be open again for some time yet, along with anywhere nearby he might acquire a cheap phone. Plan once again in place, Seven set himself an internal alarm, then went into sleep mode to save power, though put his proximity sensors on high alert so he would wake if anyone strayed too close for comfort.

He ‘woke’ once before his alarm went off when a rogue toddler strayed from her parent’s side and into his personal bubble, bringing him rocketing back to active consciousness faster than most could blink, though an outside observer wouldn’t have been able to tell just by looking. Seven didn’t so much as twitch until he registered who the ‘intruder’ was, at which point he raised one eyebrow at the child, who proceeded to make a beeline for his side.

The android watched her as she proceeded to climb, with a great deal of effort and grunting, up onto the seat next to his then sat with a look of great satisfaction. The child pushed some stray strands of hair back from her face with one small hand, then turned and looked at him with a brilliant smile that was missing a few teeth.

“Hi!” she proclaimed.

Seven blinked. “Hello,” he said after a moment, then looked around for the child’s parent in hope that they might even then be coming to claim her. Seeing no one moving in his direction, he asked the child. “Where’s your mom?”

The little girl shrugged, a large motion that ended with her hands up by her head.

Great. “How about your dad?” he hazarded hopefully and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he straightened some in his seat. The action drew the girl’s attention to his face and without warning, she leaned forward with one sticky looking hand as though to grab his glasses. Seven immediately leaned back out of her reach. “Please don’t,” he said. It occurred to him that he could simply get up and walk away from the child, but on the other hand, his morality program signaled that ‘leaving a child unattended’ was not acceptable behavior in a human.

So what exactly was this child’s parent doing, then?

It didn’t matter his human relations programming chimed in, it simply ‘wasn’t done’, even though he had no actual responsibility to the child in question.

The little girl pouted at his reticence and asked, “Why?”

“Because I need them.”

“Why?”

“Because the light hurts my eyes.”

“Why?”

Seven squinted at the child from behind the sunglasses in question, who almost seemed to be repeating herself arbitrarily by that point. “I doubt you’d understand if I explained,” he said archly.

“Why?” she asked, blinking up at him with big, bright eyes. She was far too awake considering the hour, he decided.

The android sighed and sagged back down in his seat once more, resigning himself to playing along for the time being. “Because you’re a child with, no doubt, limited comprehension of bio-” he hesitated before finishing with ‘components’. Yes, she was only a child, but children, his programming told him, often repeated things they overheard, even if they didn’t actually comprehend it. “-logy. Biology.”

“Oh,” she replied, which made Seven heave a sigh of relief. “What’s bialahgy?”

“Biology,” he corrected automatically.

“Biahlowgy,” the child hazarded, brow furrowed in concentration.

Seven quirked a brow and leaned in a little. “Bi-ohl-oh-gee,” he repeated slowly for her benefit.

The little girl watched him closely as he spoke, then repeated “Bi-ology.”

“Good job, kid,” Seven said with a upward quirk of his lips, and she grinned.

“What’s biology?”

Moment of victory short lived, the android sighed again and eventually replied, “It’s a kind of science.”

“Oh. My daddy does science!” the girl said proudly, then reached into one of her pockets and produced a jolly rancher.

“Is your daddy here?” Seven asked quickly, latching onto the subject like a man to a lifeline even as the girl scrunched up her face at the candy in her hand, then proceeded to offer it to him.

“I don’t like green ones,” she said simply, still holding it out towards Seven, who looked at it for a moment, then took it from her.

“Why?” he asked her.

“They’re gross.”

Seven’s mouth twisted into a wry smile, “So you’re giving me the gross one, huh?”

“Yep,” the child said nonchalantly as she rummaged in her pocket a second time and came up with what was apparently a more acceptable flavor, then unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. The android huffed lightly, then did the same with the ‘gross’ flavor she had pressed upon him, and was pleased to find that it wasn’t really gross at all.

Sharp movement across the room drew Seven’s attention as a man stood up abruptly and began looking around, bewildered. Not seeing what he was looking for, he bent over and picked up two bags, one not unlike the android’s own, and another, small and bright pink.

Ah.

Seven rolled the jolly rancher around his mouth, then leaned over and pointed towards the increasingly frantic man. “Is that your dad?”

The little girl looked up and saw who he was pointing at, then smiled. “Yep!”

“How about we go see him? I think he’s worried,” the android suggested, then got to his feet and slung his own bag over his shoulder.

The child seemed to consider this, then finally nodded and said, “Okay,” before sliding off the seat she’d commandeered.

Before Seven could even take a step in the right direction, he felt a small hand grab his own, making him look down in surprise at the sudden contact. He was still wearing his gloves, but her little fingers were warm around his own, though luckily, not as sticky as they had first appeared.

“Okay,” he said as his system shifted gears to this new development. Reflexively, he lightly gripped her hand in turn, then lead the child towards her father. The man glanced up as Seven approached, and the look of relief that washed over his haggard features almost made the android pause mid-stride.

“Emily!”

“Hi, daddy!” the girl said brightly, the distress she had clearly caused her father going right over her head even as the man swept her up in his arms and gave her a squeeze that made her squeak in complaint.

“Thank you so much, I’m so sorry if she bothered you,” the man said with a grateful, embarrassed smile over his daughter’s head as he looked at Seven. “I swear I only drifted off for a minute,” he said, sounding just as exhausted as he looked.

Seven’s first impulse was to point out that his daughter had been with him for more than a single minute, but he checked the urge and instead, said, “Don’t worry about it,” then left it at that. He turned and went back to his seat, and as he settled in again, the android glanced in their direction to see the girl looking at him. She waved, and after a moment’s hesitation, he returned the gesture.

(TBC)

((Thanks for reading, guys, reblogs are always appreciated to help get this out to more people too! Make sure to leave a comment letting me know what your favorite part was, I love hearing that from my readers!

If you really enjoyed it, consider buying me a ko-fi?))

#nyc become human #detroit become human #dbh #dbh fanfic #rk700 #jolie writes

[bloodpacks-archive]

Wildest Dreams

Word Count: 2.8k oops

Summary: Being Peter Parker’s love interest is one thing, but Tom Holland being a love interest for you in real life? That’s an entirely different situation. (Based on Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: Fake blood in one of the scenes, cleaning of a fake wound, way too much pining, really bad writing, maybe one or two swear words? idk man it’s just bad

Note: Wow I finally posted after like ten years what do you know! Anyway, I edited this like 20 times and I’m still not super happy with it? But I did want to get it out to you guys so I hope you like it!

When you auditioned for a part in the second Spider-Man movie, you were convinced that you wouldn’t get it. However, it was only a month later when you got a callback, and only a few weeks after that did you find out that you had gotten the part.

Another thing you didn’t expect was falling absolutely head over heels for Spider-Man himself. The worst part? You were the love interest. The new girl in school who had brains and beauty, a little cliche if you were being honest. So you were meant to pretend to fall in love with Peter Parker, that was no big deal, right? That was true, but then Tom Holland had to be cute, funny, and smart. Not only that, but he was friendly and would hang out with you during breaks. So yeah, you were entirely awestruck.

Now, you were walking out of makeup and wardrobe, steadily making your way towards set. Today was a big scene. Spider-Man, beaten and broken, would have no where else to go when he was injured and find his way to your character, Annie’s, apartment. Annie would immediately freak out, not only because it was Spider-Man, but because there was a cut in his suit with blood dripping from it. The scene goes on, she fixes him up, and eventually she lifts up his mask just enough to kiss him.

So obviously, you were nervous. With every step towards the set, your heart would beat faster and faster. You took a few breaths before stepping into Annie’s room. Tom was quietly speaking with Harrison in a corner, his suit was on except for the mask and he had a coat on over it. It was absolutely freezing on set, so you didn’t find yourself blaming him for being bundled up. Harrison held two coffees in his hands, one presumably for Tom. As you got closer, you heard snippets of their conversation.

“Harrison, I’m not going to have a coffee before kissing someone. I think that’s just being rude,” Tom argued, his hands making grand gestures as he spoke. You walked over and propped an elbow on Harrison’s shoulder, laughing when Tom looked to you with begging eyes. “I mean c’mon, y/n. Do you really want to have to kiss me after I’ve had coffee?”

“I don’t really want to kiss you at all but, here we are,” You lied. You let a coy smile take over your face as Harrison just about fell over laughing, but he still managed to keep the coffees upright and safe from spilling. Tom scoffed at you and grabbed his coffee from Harrison’s hand. You then snatched it out of Tom’s hands. “Hey, I still have to kiss you either way, so coffee is out of the question.”

“Fine, fine. No coffee,” Tom said. You smiled at him and soon enough there was a call to get into places. You walked over and sat on your bed near the open window. A book was placed in your hand and a notebook to the side of you. As it was meant to be fairly late, you were dressed in a tank top and shorts with your hair up in a messy bun.

Once you got into place you heard “Action!” and immediately got yourself into character.

“Hello?” You heard a strained voice say, you jumped and turned towards the window. Your book was now braced like a weapon, ready to hit an intruder. “Hey, hey, it’s just me. Sorry,” Spider-Man said.

“Just you? You’re-“ You took a moment to look at him. He was holding his side and his suit looked dark and wet. “Oh my god, are you bleeding? Crap, let me just get some supplies okay?” You said your line and then walked out the door.

“Cut! Perfect, now let’s switch to y/n looking for a med kit in the bathroom okay? Places!” Jon called out. You got into the bathroom quickly. You took notice of the camera that was nearly right next to your face but shook it off, choosing to not think of the likely terrible angle. “Action!”

You started shuffling through every single cabinet and drawer there was, eventually finding one that contained what you were looking for. You pulled the white kit out of the drawer and opened it, looking to see if there was anything else you might need from the medical cabinet. When you decided that everything was in there, you practically ran out of the bathroom.

“Is everything okay up there, Annie?” You heard your ‘mom’ call.

“Uh, yeah! I just needed to grab something really quickly for an English project!” You yelled back. Jon didn’t stop this scene, he wanted to have it be more flowing, so he simply switched what cameras were filming.

You ran into your room, finding Spider-Man sitting on the floor with back against your bed. You kneeled down next to him, putting the med kit aside and opening it.

“Okay, this is going to hurt a bit, is that alright?” You asked. He nodded quickly, turning to give you better access to the wound. You put on the gloves provided and grabbed the solution that sat next to you. You carefully cleaned the wound before apply pressure with a newly gloved hand. Spider-Man hissed a bit as the solution hit the wound, you rubbed one of his arms with your hand, trying to do anything to comfort him.

You grabbed the bandages out of the kit and wrapped them around the wound, adding medical tape to make sure they stayed in place.

“Is that too tight?” You whispered, trying to make sure you covered the entire wound.

“No, no, that’s fine. Thank you,” He replied.

“It’s no problem, honestly,” You said. Spider-Man started to move to get up and you pushed him back down by his shoulders. “Hey, no. Stay here for just five minutes at the least, let me make sure you’ll be mostly okay. Then go home and fix yourself up, alright?” Spider-Man nodded and leaned back again. You leaned against your bed as well, lightly resting your head on his shoulder.

“So, how’d you get it?” You asked. He set his head upright and looked over at you before leaning it back against the bed again.

“Some jerk with a weird gun thing. I don’t know, but it hurt like hell,” He answered. You giggled and tossed the blood-soaked gloves into the trash next to you. In the corner of your eye you could see Harrison excitedly watching from behind the cameras. You brought yourself back into character and looked towards Spider-Man.

“Why’d you come here?” You questioned. He simply shrugged, not sure what answer to offer you that would satisfy you.

“The window was open, there was a pretty girl inside studying. I figured she’d be smart enough to know how to fix me up. Apparently, I was right,” He said. You knew it was only a line, but you found yourself blushing at it anyway. The thought of the man under the suit, Tom, calling you pretty? That was enough to nearly make you speechless. Unfortunately, Annie wasn’t the speechless type.

“So you think I’m pretty, huh?” You teased. Spider-Man laughed and looked at you.

“Yeah, definitely,” He whispered. You reached up to the base of his mask, feeling where the fabric separated. You hooked your thumb underneath it, slowly lifting the bottom of it up and over his mouth.

“You won’t let me take this all the way off, will you?” You stated flatly. Spider-Man laughed, and you definitely loved seeing the way his lips moved and the joy on his face that you couldn’t see with the mask on.

“Unfortunately so, beautiful,” He said.

“I guess this’ll have to do then,” You whispered, and you leaned in closer to him. You let your lips brush lightly before pulling away, then Spider-Man grabbed your waist and pulled you into him. You slowly ran your lips over his, and in that moment you were no longer Annie, and he was no longer Spider-Man or Peter Parker. No, this was you and Tom. Your thoughts and your heart raced and you were so sure that if this scene were to go on any longer you wouldn’t know who your character was.

It was then that Tom, no, Spider-Man pulled away.

“I’m afraid that I have to go, beautiful,” He said and with that, he got up and was out the window, forever gone in Annie’s mind.

“Cut! Perfect guys that was absolutely perfect! I don’t even think we have to try that one again! That was amazing guys. Okay, everyone! That’s a wrap for today!” Jon called throughout the set.

Later that night, you sat in your trailer, the television in front of you only being used as background noise as you scrolled through your phone. A knock sounded to your right, and you groaned at the thought of having to interact with anyone else today. You slowly got up and made your way to the door, opening it only to reveal Tom.

“Can we just hang out for a bit?” He asked. You fought the blush that threatened to creep up your neck and nodded, opening the door a little wider so he could come in. You fell back against the couch, Tom following you soon after.

“So, what’s up?” You questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s just that we’re coming down to the last few weeks of shooting and I’m a little sad I guess,” Tom explained. You gave him a sad look and reached over to rub his arm.

“Yeah, I get that. At least you know you’ll be in the next movie, though. I love this cast so much and I really don’t want to have to go,” You said solemnly. Tom nodded his head and gave you a weak smile. “Can you do me a favor?” You asked, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah of course, anything,” He replied.

“Remember me. Even if it’s that one time we were both in sweatpants and sweatshirts and stuffing our faces with food. I know we’ll see each other again, but just say you won’t forget about me later on in life?”

“I won’t ever forget you, I promise,” Tom answered. This was a promise that you both kept. You texted almost everyday, tweeted at each other, even sent each other posts that you found funny on instagram. You were content with how it was, but every now and then there was a nagging at the back of your head about that kiss.

Soon enough though, the premiere was here. You and Tom were both ecstatic, constantly texting each other and freaking out over how excited you were.

Currently, you had stylists and makeup artists scrambling around you, trying to make sure that every single detail was perfect tonight. You had to have the most beautiful dress, makeup, and hair tonight. You were ready to stun the crowd with your first big debut.

Eventually all of the stylists took a step back, admiring their work.

“You look stunning,” One of them said. You smiled at her and said a chorus of thank you’s to all of them. You walked into wardrobe and slipped on your dress. A flowy trail of yellow followed you as you walked, and you loved the way you looked tonight. So when the time came to step into the car and go on your way to the red carpet, you were ready.

The car pulled up and you stepped out, flashes of white clouded your vision the moment you opened the door. You stood up and took a look at your surroundings. Flashes continued to hit your vision, but you walked forward, not bothering to take mind to it. Eventually you saw Tom and he walked over to you.

“So, how’s your first big red carpet?” He asked as he stuck out his elbow for you to take hold of. You laughed and took hold the arm he had offered to you.

“Overwhelming,” You answered.

“Alright, okay, let’s go talk to some reporters and take some pictures alright? You always love to talk anyway,” He teased. You shot him a playful glare but followed his lead. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked in the suit he wore tonight. His hair, now back to being long and curly, perfectly framed his face, and you were sure that his jawline had somehow managed to get sharper.

You two were now taking pictures, messing with each other in some and actually posing and looking nice in others. It was in the middle of a serious one when Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear.

“You look stunning tonight, by the way.”

“Well, I could say the same to you, Holland,” You whispered back. You noticed the blush scatter across his cheeks and smirked before heading off towards a reporter. There were a multitude of questions asking about your relationship with Tom. Every time, you had to tell them that you were just friends, but the flirty texts between the two of you argued otherwise, you really liked this guy. Of course both of you were oblivious to the flirting, so you kept being friends. You would silently wish that the crush would go away so you could just enjoy your friendship with him, but every now and then your mind would go back to the oh-so-perfect kiss you two had shared during the film and your heart would melt a bit.

So every time the reporter asked, you would respond with a laugh and an exclamation on how you were just friends, but every time you would also look over and gauge Tom’s reaction. Sometimes you saw a glisten of hurt in his eyes, but you simply put that off to your imagination and kept going through the interview.

It wasn’t long before you were inside the theatre. You sat next to Tom and his family that had decided to come while you had a few friends that you had invited. As you sat through the movie, you couldn’t help but notice your heart beginning to beat faster as you approached the one scene that you had been thinking about for months. At this point, you were only two scenes away, and you were almost terrified. You looked over to Tom to see that he was calm and collected, maybe he had forgotten about the scene, or maybe he just didn’t care. You weren’t quite sure. But soon enough you were watching yourself kiss Tom. You looked over again and he smiled at you before taking your hand and rubbing it with his thumb. He winked at you and your heart fluttered. You were thankful for the dark light in the theatre at that moment, because otherwise Tom would’ve seen how red your cheeks were. You turned back to the movie, and you watched the rest of it hand in hand with Tom.

It was as you were walking out of the theatre when Tom pulled you aside. He looked nervous and he fiddled with his hands before he spoke. Every now and then he would touch his hair or readjust his suit.

“Tom, what’s going on?” You asked. You placed a hand on his shoulder and your thumb rubbed soft circles into the skin by his neck.

“Okay, well, I guess I really knew this for a while but when I saw you today I just really realized it and I just think that you’re really amazing and beautiful and-“ You cut Tom off.

“Tom, take a breath and just go straight to the point, okay? What’s going on?” You asked calmly, you took a step closer to him and allowed your hand to fall down to his arm.

“I really, really, want to go on a date with you,” He said. You smiled at him.

“That’s all?” You teased. Tom nodded and placed his hands on your hips. “Then let’s go on a date, Holland,” You whispered and leaned in closer to him. You brushed your lips against his, teasing him just like you did in the scene. He pulled away and glared at you before bringing you right up next to him and letting your lips meet. His hands came up to cup your face and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You looked back to the kiss you had done as Annie and Peter Parker, and suddenly you realized that it wasn’t all that great. But now, it was you and Tom. And there were so many more of these to come, that you couldn’t help but feel like this was the best kiss in the entire world.

Tag list:

@tbholland this is bad but u said to tag u in stuff so here I am

#Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland drabble #Tom Holland fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #Spider-Man Homecoming #Spider-Man Hoco

[usedcarmania]

When Looking For Cars For Sale Should You Seal the Deal Without Seeing the Car First?

What you need to know about buying a car sight unseen

This isn't a hard and fast playbook that will tell you every last thing about how to buy a used car sight unseen. Always remember that even if everything seems to check out, buying a vehicle sight unseen is always risky (if you’re not browsing cars for sale Eastern Cape dealers offer), and unlike with new cars, there aren't reviews for every single unit of a type of used car posted for sale. Different types of people treat a car differently, so follow these tips, but proceed with caution unless you're willing to sit with a troublesome purchase that you'll lose money on.

1. Research Before initiating negotiations with the seller of the car that you are interested in, it's important to know the common faults of the particular vehicle, what these faults cost to repair, how much time and labour they will take to remedy, and if any of them are recall-related. Once you've armed yourself with this knowledge, it is time to contact the current owner. If there are any details not covered in the advertisement, now is the time to call the seller to determine if any of the issues that this car may have been plagued with - common or otherwise - have been addressed. Speaking to the person can also give you clues as to their reasoning for selling the car. Is the person likely to be fraudulent? Is the car a money pit? Or is it simply no longer needed? Taking someone's word isn't always good enough, although it can be if you're purchasing from a dealer. If not, it's best to request proof of repairs and maintenance. Although most online deals are usually handled via email or instant messaging, we advise speaking to the owner on the phone. This can reveal any hesitation in disclosing certain details and can give you an idea of whether the current owner knows how to take care of that particular vehicle or not.

2. Price Variations Before biting the bullet on a vehicle, and before even looking at ads, it may be worth your while to explore the price trends of the car you're after in various states. For example, in California where EVs and hybrids are very popular, you may find that secondhand EVs and hybrids are more prevalent and therefore cheaper. By contrast, trucks will be a dime a dozen in somewhere like Alaska and less commonplace in New York. This is also helpful for determining the average market price of the vehicle across the country, thus allowing you to figure out if a car is overpriced, or if it's so cheap that it seems to be a scam. Sometimes an advertisement at a bargain price is not a fraudulent post but is going to be too expensive on repairs to be viable either.

3. Reading the Advert This may seem like a no-brainer, but it's important to read the details of the adverts you're looking at carefully. Consider year models, specs and features, upgrades made by the current owners of each option, locations, and, of course, the prices of each listing. Then you need to check if the owner has had a recent Carfax inspection done, if any recall issues have been addressed, if proof of work done on the car is provided, and if the price is negotiable. It's also important to determine if there is a clean title or if you need to do more work to get the car into your name.

4. Inspecting the Pictures It is also imperative that you examine the pictures in detail. Through this, you can pick up colour differences that would indicate prior spray work. You can also tell if body panels line up, if the engine bay has any obvious leaks, if there are any aftermarket parts, if there are any signs of rust, and if the car appears to be cleaned regularly. If the pics are of good quality, you can also tell if the brake discs are ridged, if there are excessive paint chips, and if interior switches and touchpoints are worn. These are the kinds of things you would normally inspect closely in person, but if you know what to look for before buying a car sight unseen, you can usually generate a good idea of if the car is any good.

5. Vehicle History This is part of the first point in this list and forms part of the research that should be done before you make a purchase. When you check the vehicle's history, you can determine what work previous owners have carried out and also see if the maintenance of the car has been carried out timeously. From service invoices, you can also research whether the workshops responsible for the care of the vehicles are reputable and if they specialize in that particular make and model.

6. Pre-Purchase Inspection Of course, this is one of the trickiest yet most important parts of the entire sale process, and sure, a pre-purchase inspection is neither a certification of excellence nor a death warrant. That said, getting a Carfax or similar inspection carried out, although an expense on a vehicle you may not even buy, can alert you to the smallest of issues that even your own personal inspection may not reveal. The downside to this is that if a dealer inspects the vehicle and provides a quotation for repairing every last defect on the vehicle, it may make even a decent vehicle seem like a poor investment. This is where your earlier research on common problems and their fixes can help you out and make it easier to determine a car's pros and cons on a more realistic level. For example, while a dealer may quote thousands of dollars to respray chipped body panels, a body shop near you may be able to rectify the issues at a lower cost. Finally, the inspection can help with negotiating a lower price for the car.

7. Additional Costs It's very important that you consider all of the above points, and where possible, try to work out a rough dollar value for what it will take to get a car back to full health based on the work you've done assessing the vehicle. Getting the car shipped to you can be pricey, especially if you want insurance on the delivery, which you certainly should opt for. Of course, you could hire a trailer and tow it yourself or get a friend to drive with you and drive the car home once you've bought it, but that's also an additional cost on fuel. If you do decide to pick the car up yourself and it's located far away, you may also have to budget a little extra for a motel room. You also need to register the car once you buy it, obviously.

Recommendations

We've gone over a lot of what to know before buying a car sight unseen, but there are a couple of other things to remember, too. Emissions regulations vary from state to state, and you need to ensure that the car you're buying complies with those of your home state. The same applies to other minor details like whether the car will need to have a front license plate fitted.

It is also advisable to bring a mechanic with you when you collect the car if you intend to drive it home after payment, just in case something goes wrong on the way. Bringing some tools and fluids can also be beneficial.

If you opt to have the car shipped across the USA on an open-air multi-car truck trailer, ask the towing company to place your car on the highest level, if possible. This will help minimize the chances of damage from road debris and stone chips while the car is being transported to you. If the transporter offers a system that allows you to track the truck, that's also a bonus.

If you're buying a classic, it's also valuable to get an expert with lots of experience to find out if he or she can get it certified as the model advertised before you initiate negotiations.

Summary

In conclusion, it's important to remember that buying a used car sight unseen is never the recommended route for car buying in the US, or any other country for that matter. But if you must, try to learn as much as possible about the vehicle beforehand and always make telephonic contact with the seller in addition to other channels like email and instant messaging. Sticking to these principles minimizes your risk, but even then, you may need to spend more than you intended to get a car to the level you want it. We've covered many of the things you need to look out for in detail above, but as a recap, the following are the most important bits to keep in mind:

Spend more time on research than anything else

Look at more than one option before jumping the gun on a purchase

Look for the best-quality ads and work your way down, as those with plenty of information and pictures are usually ads for decent cars

Examine the pictures closely for defects

Try to go for a car with a documented history of good maintenance

Always over-budget when buying a car sight unseen

Don't let your heart make decisions for you, but rather ask for multiple opinions

FAQs

Should I buy a car sight unseen? As a rule of thumb, it's usually a bad idea. However, there are often bargains to be found when you look for cars in more rural areas or if you find a car that hasn't been used much.

What do I need to know before buying a car sight unseen? Keep an open mind - while some cars are only worthy of ending up in a junkyard, many others can be in brilliant shape. Either way, you need to learn as much about that particular model as you can, and never, ever send money without some sort of guarantee or without having the title in your hand. A site like escrow.com can help with this, acting as an intermediary between you and the seller.

Can you buy a car out of state and have it shipped to you? Yes. There are many companies and private individuals who can provide such a service, but try to go for those that have a good reputation and insurance.

Is it better to buy from a dealership or from a private seller? Both have their pros and cons. Cars at dealerships are generally better cared for since the dealer's reputation is on the line and you can find some recourse if you are dissatisfied. However, dealers also have greater overheads due to staff, rent, and operating costs, all of which can push a car's price up slightly. Conversely, private individuals generally sell cars at lower prices. This does mean that you may end up with a car that has been poorly looked after, but sometimes, you could also come across an enthusiast who has maintained the vehicle better than a dealer, with shorter service intervals and fewer generic consumables. Ultimately, the answer to this question depends on the specific situation and vehicle.

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Original article from https://carbuzz.com/car-advice/

[sapphicscholar]

Stronger Together prompt. Soft Sanvers is my favorite Sanvers. How about some adorable cuddling and pillow talk?

Hi, friend! I just posted the chapter to AO3 here! I combined with with prompts from @thebiwisebrownkid and @agent-dvnvers (see below)

Prompt 2: HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW 3x01 TRAILER?!?!! THE HAND HOLDING SCENE WITH WHAT (i think) WAS SANVERS?!?! I low key feel like that was a sex scene so i was wondering if u wud write a soft passionate smutty fic post getting rings and incorporate that hand holding thing p.s. we have never seen sanvers hold hands like how the fuck has that not happened till now-Okay, so it’s not explicitly smutty, save for a line or two. It’s mainly soft (like, ya know, a PG13 movie, or what you get on the CW if you’re a hetero couple)

Prompt 2: Hi! If you’re still up for a prompt could you maybe just write a really fluffy morning in for Sanvers? Featuring a hot makeout and playful banter/teasing and lots of love? Could it also feature cuddling like Maggies head on alexs chest (basically high dosage of cute gay shit pls)

A/N:Why yes, this is soft Sanvers being engaged and ecstatic about spending the rest of forever together and maybe this is the softest, nicest way I’ve ever told a show writer to fuck off, but please enjoy it.

Chapter Text:

“No,” Maggie grunted, her voice muffled by the pillow. She could hear Alex’s soft laugh ringing out as she continued her attempt at extricating herself from Maggie’s tight, koala-like grip around her waist. “Stay in bed.”

“Let me put on coffee, and I promise I’ll be right back.”

“Five more minutes?”

After a moment, Alex acquiesced, letting herself be led back down to the pillows as Maggie’s head found its way to her chest, her fingers curling against Alex’s abs and her legs tangling with Alex’s. The look of pure contentment on her face made her look many years younger, and Alex couldn’t help wishing that they could stay like this forever, far removed from the worries and cares of work and life and a city that seemed to be forever under attack.

Maggie hummed in contentment as Alex carded her fingers through her hair, feeling herself drifting in and out of consciousness with the soothing motions.

“How about I go make us coffee now?” Alex whispered, moving like she was going to get up.

“No,” Maggie whined, reaching up above her for Alex’s hand and drawing it down. As she clasped Alex’s hand in her own, letting their fingers curl together, she looked down at their matching engagement rings. They’d talked about whether or not it was practical to get them, tried to figure out if they’d even be allowed to wear them out in the field, but eventually they both decided that it was worth it. They wanted the world to know they were in love, that they were lucky enough to be spending the rest of their lives together. And if that meant that Alex had spent a few long nights in the lab with some gems from outer space synthesizing a compound even stronger than diamond for their rings…well, it was worth a few nights apart in the end.

“You look good with a ring, Danvers.”

“I could say the same to you, Sawyer.”

“I look good in anything, though,” Maggie teased, pulling herself up to kiss Alex—her fiancée, and god would she ever get tired of saying that?

“I think you looked best in nothing but the ring…” Alex trailed off, turning over in Maggie’s arms to kiss her properly as memories from the night before flickered through her mind. Even though they’d been engaged for weeks at that point, there had been something new to sliding rings onto each other’s fingers, something that felt absurdly romantic but in the best of ways. Alex had insisted on taking Maggie out to a nice dinner, needed the world to see how perfect they looked together, for the world to see that they belonged together. As they waited for their food, they couldn’t help the way their hands drifted across the table at dinner, finding one another, fingers lacing together, watching as the rings seemed to sparkle and flash in the candlelight.

They’d skipped dessert, too eager to get home, to hold one another close and celebrate each and every part of the commitment they were making to one another. But, eager as they were, they’d managed to take it slowly. The kisses were soft—every gentle caress and breathy sigh full of new meaning, every whispered “I love you” trailing off into the unspoken “forever” they couldn’t wait to celebrate in front of their friends and makeshift families. Clothes had been slowly pulled off, fingers and lips tracing reverent paths across every inch of newly revealed skin. When they finally fell into bed, they’d held each other close—gasps and moans swallowed by heated kisses, the press of soft, warm skin a welcome embrace—finally falling asleep with Maggie’s arms and legs wrapped protectively around Alex, their hands tangled together.

The rumble of Alex’s stomach finally pulled them apart. “Okay, time for food—for real this time.”

“I can think of something I’d rather eat…” Maggie winked at Alex, watching as the woman blushed and rolled her eyes.

“You’re insatiable.”

“You didn’t seem to think that was a problem last night.”

“No…I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“You wish you were always right.”

“Semantics,” Maggie sighed, finally relinquishing her grasp on Alex and watching with unabashed desire as Alex stood and stretched, the light flickering in through the curtains playing across Alex’s back, accentuating the planes of toned muscle, the scars that served as reminders of just how brave she was, of how she put herself in harm’s way day in and day out to keep her city and her sister safe. She let out a huff of disappointment as Alex pulled on a tank top and shorts, though she too pulled herself out of bed, looking for her favorite orange t-shirt of Alex’s—the one that still reminded her of their first night spent together so many months ago.

By the time she made it out to the kitchen, the coffee was nearly ready and a double-toasted bagel was sitting at her place. “You spoil me.”

“You deserve it.”

And god, it was cheesy and sentimental and absolutely something she would’ve mocked a year ago, but somehow when Alex said it, it just sounded perfectly sincere, like everything she ever wanted to hear.

—

After breakfast, Maggie tried stalling, determined to stay at home for just a little longer before they had to go off to work.

“I’ve called in with the black lung four times…this month.”

“I’ve heard it’s incredibly hard to shake—quite the nasty bug.”

Alex laughed and shook her head. “Let’s save our leave time for the honeymoon.”

“Kara told me you had something like nine months of accrued overtime hours alone.”

“Have I not told you about my plans for our honeymoon?”

It was Maggie’s turn to laugh as she tried to drag Alex back to bed. “Please! Just a few more minutes of cuddling?”

“You know as well as I do a few minutes of cuddling will turn into an hour of fucking.”

“You can’t just talk dirty like that and expect me to leave you alone.”

“Then why don’t you come clean up with me in the shower,” Alex offered, already throwing off her tank top and letting her shorts drop to the ground. Never one to resist temptation that looked that good, Maggie threw off Alex’s t-shirt and followed her to the bathroom, her hands already reaching out for Alex’s waist.

After brushing their teeth, they eventually made it into the shower, even managing to pull their mouths away from each other long enough to wash up before Maggie had Alex’s back pressed up against the cool tile of the shower wall, her hands dropping down between Alex’s legs.

“No,” Alex finally managed, though her voice was decidedly less firm than she would have liked. But  one of them needed to lay down the law if they were ever going to make it into work.

“You sure? I bet it would only take a few minutes,” Maggie taunted, making a show of dragging her slick fingers back up and sucking them between her lips.

Groaning, Alex dropped her head back against the tile, forcing herself to remember that she had a to-do list a mile long in the lab that wasn’t going to complete itself.  “Tonight.”

“Fine.” Incorrigible as ever, though, as Alex turned off the water Maggie’s eyes glinted mischievously as the corners of her mouth pulled up into a smile. “Need a hand moisturizing, babe?”

“Get your ass back to the bedroom.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maggie replied with a cheeky wink and salute.

By the time Alex made it to the bedroom, Maggie was already tucking one of her countless button ups (Alex really didn’t know where more kept coming from) into a pair of skinny black jeans, her hair wrapped in a towel on top of her head. As Alex dropped her towel, she felt Maggie’s hands immediately finding their way to her bare skin. “Already?”

“You told me to wait in the bedroom for you. I did.”

“I’m getting dressed, babe.”

“Why don’t you put on a nice show for me,” Maggie teased, settling into bed and propping herself up against the pillows.

Rolling her eyes, Alex just pulled out one of her DEO uniforms, leaning a little closer to Maggie than was strictly necessary, her chest right in Maggie’s line of vision, and maybe flexing just a little bit…not that she’d admit to it. Smirking at the way Maggie’s breath caught in her throat, she made a show of bending over to pull on her socks.

When Alex sauntered across the room, yelling that she was doing her hair and leaving for work, Maggie groaned. Never before had she regretted a decision as much as she did at the moment, left desperate and wanting with a full day of work still ahead of her. But she joined Alex in the bathroom, pulling out her own hairdryer and plugging it in beneath Alex’s.

The first time a gust of hot air hit Alex, blowing her hair up and into her face at a ridiculous angle, she spluttered as Maggie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry! It was a mistake,” Maggie apologized. They had long ago realized a bigger bathroom was something of a necessity for their next apartment.

“You’re fine,” Alex sighed, though all too soon Maggie felt her own hair being blown up and saw Alex clutching her hair dryer like a gun and cackling.

By the time they were done, the process had taken significantly longer than usual, and Alex’s hair was a bit more…voluminous than she’d normally like, while Maggie had been forced to throw hers into a ponytail to hide the puffy, tangled sections that would be a pain in the ass to deal with later. But they both sported matching grins, their cheeks pink from the effort.

“See you tonight?” Alex checked.

“Barring alien emergencies…though I suppose we’d probably still see each other then.”

“Fair enough. Now be safe.”

“Always. And you too—don’t go jumping into portals without me again!”

“Yes, yes… I love you.”

“Love you too.”

#sanvers #soft domestic fluff with a small side of smut #supergirl #alex x maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #fanfic #prompt fill #3x01 preemptive fix it fic #ao3feed #ask me #anon

[tricksters-captain]

FP Jones/Andrews family/Riverdale imagines - Oh Dear Part 9

AN: This chapter is a little different... It’s also a little short so I may release the next chapter a little earlier than Friday. 

(Part One) (Part Two)(Part Three)(Part Four)(Part Five)(Part Six)(Part Seven)(Part Eight)

Overall Summary: You’re Archie’s old sister and you have a thing for a certain serpent

Pairing: Reader x FP Jones, Sister!Reader x Archie Andrews, Daughter!Reader x Fred Andrews

Word count: 1,335

Warnings: Well, FP is clearly older than the reader in this fic, none really

Before homecoming...

FP watched you leave the trailer with a unconscious smirk on his lips. 

You really were something else. 

He turned to the kitchen and poured himself a coffee, he had to be at Alice Coopers in an hour and if he was honest, he was kind of nervous. 

He knew Alice. He knew that this wasn’t just some social gathering to bring the Cooper/Jones family together but he said he’d go since Jughead seemed so damn excited about it. And in the end, he didn’t care that much about Alice’s intentions as long as his son was happy.

And your surprise visit was enough to encourage him to get through the rest of the evening. Knowing that you would be at the Whyte Wyrm in a pair of combat boots and black washed jeans that clung to you so tightly was enough to help FP through the night. 

FP had no idea why he let himself get talked into what he just experienced at the Cooper’s house. It was an interrogation he never particularly wanted but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect it to go ass up one way or another. 

He ran his hands over his face, sighing, partially out of defeat and partially out of exhaustion. 

““Betty! Jug! Hey!” You crossed over to Betty’s front patio, next door to your own. FP’s head shot up when he heard your voice. 

He felt as if he’d ran straight into a brick wall when you came into view. His lips parting lightly and his eyes widening in awe. 

You looked incredible.

FP hadn't realised that you were only really watching his reaction and had noticed that he hadn't held back when you revealed yourself. 

(Y/n), my gosh, you look beautiful!” Betty awed over your dress, and you thanked her. FP snapped back to his usual neutral facial expression, hoping that no one had seen his reaction to you as Betty cooed over you. 

“I’ll be right back, I have to get something from the house.” Jughead excused himself for a second, and then Betty started heading towards FP’s truck, leaving you and FP both alone for a split moment. 

‘Wow’ FP thought. 

“You look... beautiful.” FP murmured as you both walked down the steps, slow enough to have a private conversation. He wanted to say more, do more, but he knew he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t even find the words to say more. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Shame I didn’t get to see you in a suit tonight though.” You teased, a smile toying on the corner of your lips. FP eyes caught the smile you were repressing. 

“Believe me, you’re not missing much.” FP told you, chuckling softly. He looked sideways at you, waiting for you to say something else, anything else, but Jughead rejoined you, cutting you off.

“Come on, Betty doesn’t like to be late.” He said, rushing past you. FP shook his head at how whipped his son was on the young girl but also couldn’t help but feel hypocritical. 

FP watched his son open the car door for you and Betty as he clambered into the truck himself. 

He was glad that you entered first, pushing yourself up against his arm, your familiar scent filling his nose. 

The car was a tight squeeze but FP didn’t mind. He didn’t mind being so close to you and the other two didn’t think too much of it and so on you went. 

FP pulled up outside the school and almost told you to skip homecoming but managed to control himself. You were young, you should enjoy yourself and you were meeting later on anyway. 

“Have fun tonight.” FP quietly told you as the younger couple exited the car.  

“Remember, Whyte Wyrm, save me a dance.” You whispered, winking at the man. FP’s eyes lingered on your lips, he had to fight every urge in his body to kiss you in that moment but fortunately you exited the truck before he could act on it. 

“You be a gentlemen tonight, okay?” FP leaned towards the window, calling out to Jughead. He watched you take the umbrella from Jughead and head up the stairs to the front doors. FP’s gaze never left you. He watched your shoulders move as you adjusted the umbrella. He watched the way you stumbled slightly in the heels you wore. He watched your face light up as you greeted others and he felt himself suddenly long to be at that dance. 

“He always is, Mr. Jones.” Betty assured FP, bringing him back to his senses. 

“Betty, you mind giving us a minute?” Jughead asked, Betty, of course, didn’t mind and left the Jones family to talk.

After the talk with his son, FP headed back to the trailer park. His thoughts raced around his head, if Jughead said yes to Toledo that means he would have to go, he would have to leave you. He didn’t know if he could do that. He guessed you could always go to college there and he’d still get to see you but how long would he be able to get away with that?

He sighed, shaking the thoughts from his head and decided he’d make himself something to eat considering he didn’t do much eating at the Coopers. 

He figured he’d have to wait at least an hour before you ditched the dance but kept his phone by him in case you called. His phone rarely exploded with calls but when it did, it was usually you. 

FP’s mind wondered back to the first time you admitted you were crushing on him. He could admit that he couldn’t believe what he was doing at first when he allowed you into his life but, boy, was he glad he did. 

You made him forget about all the bad shit going on in his life. You made him forget the pain he had when he wife left him and took his baby girl which replaced the drinking. You made him forget what it was like feel like a loser, what it was to be the typical bad guy.

You made him feel human. 

He ducked down into the fridge and pulled out a box of eggs and a frying pan. 

He turned on the hob and the eggs started to sizzle when he suddenly got lost in thought. He was reflecting on the day he met you behind the bleachers. Your hair tied up, your shorts high on your hips, one sock a little lower than the other. Your (y/e/c) met his and that was the moment he knew he was screwed.

He was drawn from his thoughts when a chorus of sirens and flashing lights pulled up outside his trailer. He huffed. What could they possibly want on this night of all nights?

FP opened the door to reveal Sheriff Keller and a gathering of cops. 

“We have a warrant to search the premises.” Keller told him. 

“Be my guest. Got nothing to hide.” FP stood back and opened his arm, allowing the officers to enter. 

FP sat back and watched the cops raid his home, trashing the place that he and you had only just completely cleaned. His mind wondered to the polaroid of you and him and where he had put it, not that it mattered much because the cops weren’t searching for a photograph.

He thought to himself that he would have to let you know that he may be a bit late to the Whyte Wyrm if the cops didn’t finish up soon, especially since they weren’t leaving a single thing unturned. 

FP wasn’t worried at all about the raid, anything that could link him to any crime was ridded of a long time ago. He didn’t like to leave loose ends and therefore there would be no strings to pull. But when the sheriff pulled out a lockbox that FP had never seen before, he knew he was in trouble.

Chapter 10

Tag list

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#fp x reader #fp jones x reader #fp jones #fp jones imagines #Forsythe jones #forsythe jones x reader #forsythe pendleton jones #jughead jones #archie andrews #fred andrews #skeet ulrich #skeet ulrich x reader #riverdale #riverdale imagines #cw #imagines #imagine #series #oh dear #part 9