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diegodog2002 · 2 years

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The Cemetery Part I

The sun started to set, as Tom looked out the balcony of his penthouse suite at the hotel where he was staying in Jamaica. It was the end of October, and the weather was perfect. Not too hot or humid. Tom was in paradise.

Tom had won a large amount of money from a lottery ticket. Let’s just say he was now a multi-millionaire. It had always been his dream to go to Jamaica and party in the casinos as though he were the Ian Fleming character, James Bond. This was to be the night he was going to make a splash at the casino. He was also in Jamaica to make some investments to grow his lottery winnings.

He was wealthy, and good-looking. At 42 years old, Tom had a full head of dark brown hair, with salt and pepper tones throughout. He worked out 4 times a week, and his body showed the effort he put into it. His broad shoulders and torso tapered down to a 32-inch waist. He had rock hard abs with light brown nearly blond hair covering his chest. Not a lot of chest hair, just a fine layer of the softest down. He had a nice firm round ass. Most 25-year-old men wished they had the body Tom had.

Tom started dressing after he had dried off from his shower. He had chosen to wear a custom fitted hand made tuxedo specially made for him. It was made of the finest wool and silk available. It had a European cut because this was the best way to show off his assets. Along with the tuxedo, were the matching black silk brocade vest, hand tied bow tie, and a starched handkerchief linen tuxedo shirt. The linen shirt was soft even when starched, but held the pressing given to it by the laundress whom had washed, starched and ironed the shirt. Under all of this he had chosen to wear a pair of soft white custom-made cotton briefs and a matching tee shirt. Tom chuckled to himself as he put the briefs on, thinking that prior to winning the lottery, he was lucky if he had a pair of underwear that did not have holes in them or were totally stretched out. He then thought about being measured for the briefs and tee shirt. The tailor was so serious while taking Tom’s measurements. He had measured across Tom’s back to make sure the tee shirt did not bind when he moved. Measured his biceps so the tee shirt did not bind on Tom’s arms. Even down to measuring Tom’s thighs for the leg bands on his briefs. Every inch of Tom’s body had measure measurements taken for the proper fit. On his feet, Tom had chosen soft black leather slip on formal slippers, sheer black silk mid thigh length TNT socks and garters. Tom looked at himself in the mirror once he was completely dressed. He liked what he saw reflected back. With his best impression of a Welch brogue, which was not good at all, he said “Vodka martini, shaken not stirred”. Needless to say, he was a James Bond fan. He laughed and left the hotel for the casino.

Tom noticed the casino he had planned on going to was directly in line with an old cemetery in the middle of the city close to where he was staying. Since this was a small cemetery, he decided to cut through, and save some time and not go around it. Just as Tom approached the gates to enter the cemetery, an ancient looking old woman wearing a tattered shawl stopped him. She was frail looking, and was leaning on a cane. The old woman raised her crooked finger to him and told him not to go through the cemetery this evening, because the spirits were very restless this time of year.

Tom paid no attention to what the old lady told him, and proceeded to enter the cemetery. While walking, he could hear the echo of the music from the casino, so he headed in the direction of the music. As he walked, he realized the distance he was walking, and that it was incredibly dark in the cemetery. Tom suddenly lost his footing, and tripped over a low head stone. He fell onto the ground. This would not have been too bad, except when he fell, he rolled down a hill into a muddy ooze filled marsh. Tom had no idea he was close to the edge of the hill. Once he stopped rolling, he was face down in a muddy marsh. The taste of the mud, slime and ooze almost caused Tom to vomit. He lay there for a moment, because his head was spinning from the fall. Once he regained his composure, he could feel the wetness seeping through the fabric of his tuxedo. He stood up, and realized he had no broken bones, just a bit sore from hitting things as he rolled down the hill. He tried to look down at himself to see how dirty he was. He was barely able to make out the once white shirt he was wearing. Standing there, Tom realized he was starting to sink into the ooze. Tom lifted one foot to try to get on top of the ooze; he was not successful in doing this. His shoe fell off in the process. He reached down where he was standing and tried to feel for his shoe in the ooze. He could feel nothing except the ooze penetrating his tuxedo jacket and shirt. Tom made another attempt to move, this time he tried to make sure his foot was secure in his shoe. It was no use, and his other shoe was lost in the ooze. He did not even try to retrieve it. He knew he had to move though, because he was now sinking further. The ooze was well above his ankles now. He managed to take some steps to raise himself up. The ooze was now only covering his feet. Tom walked a few feet in one direction, and realized he was not getting to the edge of the ooze. It was getting deeper. He turned around and started walking the other direction. This was no good either. He remained ankle deep in the ooze. Tom was completely disoriented now. He thought he knew where he was going, but he realized he could not hear the music anymore. The fall had gotten him lost in the cemetery.

Tom thought that as long as the ooze was not getting any deeper, he would be safe. He would eventually get to the edge of the marsh he hoped. As he walked, he thought he felt something tugging at his socks. He thought it must be just the suction of the marsh and the weight of the ooze on his feet, until he felt the garters break and open on both his legs. He then felt something pulling at the toes of his socks as he continued to walk. He tried several times to pull his socks back up, but with each step he took, the socks slipped off a bit more until they were mysteriously removed from his feet. The ooze was now completely covering his bare feet. He then felt something tugging at the cuffs of his trousers. He could not see anything because of the blackness of the marsh and the dark moonless night. Tom ignored the sensation; he just thought it was his nerves. Tom again felt the tugging. This time, it was much more intense. So intense, Tom heard fabric ripping. Tom stopped walking. He raised his leg only to find the bottom of his trousers were shredded. He could not see this too well, but he was able to feel where the fabric was ripped. Of course Tom was now very concerned. What was in the marshy ooze? Tom tried to run, but the ooze was too thick to run in. So he started walking as fast as he could. He suddenly felt something grab one of his legs just above his knee. RIPPPPPPPP, the leg of his trousers were shredded. He felt the same on the other leg. This time he tried to hit it with his hands. There was nothing there to hit. He was only hitting his own leg. However, he could still feel something digging and tugging on his trousers. He then heard the fabric give way under the strain of whatever was digging into his trousers. RIPPPPPPPP, the other leg of his trousers was also shredded from above the knee all the way down the cuff. Tom just moved as fast as he could to try and get out of the ooze. After falling a few times, he finally found an edge of the marsh, and crawled out. When he felt he was a safe distance from the marsh, he stopped and sat down to catch his breath. The moon finally shone from through the clouds. He looked himself over and was able to see the shreds in his trousers. It was as though something with claws had just ripped the legs of his trousers to shreds. He was also able to see that he was covered in wet oily mud.

Tom sat for a few minutes to try and determine where he was in the cemetery. Nothing looked familiar to him. As he sat there, Tom felt something wrap itself around his wrists. He looked at his wrists only to see long vines wrapped themselves around his wrists. The vines started to drag Tom. As Tom was being dragged, he felt the claws digging deeply into his trousers again, but he could not see anything. This time they were digging into the waist of his trousers. The claws were trying to pull Tom back into the marsh, while the vines were pulling Tom in the opposite direction. Tom’s trousers were in the middle of this tug of war, and were no match for the claws or the vines. He felt them strain under the force exerted by the claws. It was as though the claws were holding on to every thread of fabric. Tom’s trousers literally burst off his body. RRRIIIP! Tom could see fabric flying through the air before the pieces of fabric hit the ground. Then Tom felt the claws dig into his jacket. This time it was a struggle between the claws and the vines, and Tom’s jacket was in the middle. Tom felt the fabric of his jacket stretch to its limits before the claws just shredded the jacket into thin shreds of material. Then the claws grabbed at Tom’s vest and shirt. These items were no match for the vines. Both the vest and shirt were ripped to shreds in a matter of moments. Tom was dragged by the vines for what seemed to be an eternity. The vines finally stopped dragging Tom and released their grip on him. Tom quickly got up to get out of the area. He took a moment to check himself out. He was amazed to see there were no abrasions on him from being dragged by the vines. He thought about it for a moment, and realized he was not being dragged. It was as though he was hovering above the ground and the vines were pulling him along.

Tom had had enough though; he was going to get out the cemetery immediately. He had lost his tuxedo completely, and was left wearing muddy dirty once new and white underwear and a muddy dirty tee shirt. He tried to move. His legs would not move. It was as though his feet were glued to the ground. The more he struggled, the less he was able to move. Exhausted, Tom stopped exerting force to move. Tom had a warm feeling come over him all of a sudden. He was not scared, but was very relaxed. The moon had gone back behind the clouds again, so it was pitch black again. Tom felt something caressing his body very softly. It was as though multiple hands were gently rubbing his body. Some of the hands started to caress his cock and balls, while others started rubbing his nipples. He knew the hands or whatever they were, were on the outside of his underwear, because he could feel the fabric move back and forth and up and down. Tom gave into the feeling, because he was both tired from what had happened before, and because it felt so good. Tom felt his tee shirt being gently ripped. RIPPPPPPPP, the front of his tee shirt was ripped completely open from the neck down to the bottom hem. Once this was done, he felt something sucking on his nipples. This was so pleasurable Tom did not want it to stop. Then Tom felt and heard the back of his tee shirt being ripped. Again it was ripped from the neck down to the bottom hem. Tom did not care, because while his tee shirt was being ripped, the sucking of his nipples had not stopped. Once the tee shirt was ripped in half, Tom felt the 2 pieces of his tee shirt gently being removed from his torso. Tom was moaning with pleasure, and he was unsure as to why. He could see no one touching him, but he felt the sensuous hands caressing him. Tom was aware he had a huge erection. His cock was straining against the fabric of his briefs. The hands stopped rubbing his hardened cock. He felt the damp warmthness of a tongue licking his crotch and inner thighs. Tom knew he had pre-cum on his shorts. He was unsure as to how much more of the licking of his crotch he would be able to take. Tom felt the front of his briefs being opened up, and his engorged cock being removed from the confines of his briefs. Once his cock was outside the confines of his briefs, Tom felt the material of his briefs continue to be pulled until, RIPPPPPPPP his briefs were torn in half; by what, Tom did not know. The ripping did not stop until his briefs were torn in half and then they were completely wrenched from his body, exposing his rock hard cock and soft supple ass. Tom then felt a stiff cock enter his ass. He did not turn around to look and see whom it was, because he knew if he looked, he would see nothing. Whatever was fucking him, knew what they were doing. Ever so gently did it penetrate his ass, slowly thrusting in and out, until Tom thought he was going to split in half, both from the size of the cock, and the ecstasy of this cock violating his ass ever so expertly. Tom was screaming with pleasure until he was unable to contain himself anymore. Tom shot his load hard and heavy. He did not know if when he came it would just shoot out into the air, or if it was going to disappear into some specter. He did not care, all he knew is that while he was coming, he felt the hot cum of someone or something filling is ass, and running down his thighs.

Tom collapsed and passed out from the exhaustion of the experience. When he awoke, it was nearly morning. He knew exactly where he was in the cemetery. He was only about 20 feet from where he entered. How was this possible he thought? He knew he had been walking for a distance well before he had fallen down the hill. He then looked himself over only to realize he was completely naked. His thought now was how to get back to the hotel without being seen, and try to explain to anyone if he was.

Tom was aware someone was watching him. He turned around, only to see the old lady standing behind him. Quite embarrassed, Tom told the old lady what had happened last night. As he related the story she nodded as though she completely understood what had happened. Once Tom finished telling her the story, she told Tom he was very lucky to be alive. It seems Tom was in the middle of a battle between good and evil. The evil being the claw like specters trying to destroy Tom, and the good were the hand specters saving Tom and making love to him. Tom was not sure what to make of this, he only knew he was naked. The old lady removed her shawl and handed it to Tom and told him to go back to his hotel and never come back to this cemetery again. Next time he may not be so lucky.

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softbois · 3 years

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whoever invented black leather platform boots deserves all the goth girl pussy idc

#fucking love them #so glad summers over #black leather in hot and humid weather... bad just bad

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cajunquandary · 3 years

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Hands that Heal

Link: (coming soon to Ao3)

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little push the right direction...

Created for: @negans-lucille-tblr SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Rating: 18+ only

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Jay)

Warnings: Jealous Dean, fluff, smut, smidge of angst, medical IV (briefly), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy)

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Happy Holidays, @jay-and-dean! I was so ecstatic to have received your name and hope that my ramblings make you smile a little.

It’s a funny thing, the way everyone goes on about the eyes being windows to the soul. Of course, they can be very telling, and if you ever catch yourself getting lost in those of the Winchesters, how could you believe anything else? Or perhaps you are more like Jay.

Jay has been with the Winchesters for quite some time. She’s been lost in those eyes. And she’s been found. The pure green folds of Dean’s have scooped her up, swaddled her, saved her. So have Sam’s hazel, but not in quite the same way. Not that either brother knows. Only Cas.

Cas has seen the way her deep brown eyes linger just a little longer than they ought to, can feel the ache in her chest. There are times when Jay meets the angel’s gaze just afterwards but looks away just as quickly. They both know, but they won’t talk about it. And that’s okay.

But for Jay, she can see beyond the green. Beyond the freckles and blushing pensive lips, the curve of his jaw, the gently rolling hills of his chest and arms. She traces the majestic waves and ripples beneath his warm skin with only her eyes and her heart. They come to rest just past strong wrists and fall like weighted feathers upon Dean’s weathered hands.

You see, that’s where the soul really reveals itself closest to visible flesh. Each scar and busted knuckle tell a story. The pattern of freckles and tan lines speak of years in the sun. The calluses of his palm and fingertips disclose a rough life, a tough job. They are toned with skill, accurate in all things. They can field strip a gun and put it back together in the blink of an eye, tie complicated knots with dexterity, bait a hook and cast a line without hesitation, and even mold and create custom parts for Baby as they fix her up.

And yet, the skin between those marks is soft, no longer as elastic as it once was, but still full of life and love. The very muscles that hold together the bone and sinew have the capacity to both take life, and give it. Jay has watched them rip apart monsters and gently caress and hold victims within the same minute.

Such an extreme duality shouldn’t be so neatly wrapped up in one man, but it was. It was both Dean’s light and his curse. Jay shivered as she hesitated just a moment too long on the fantasy of those thick muscled, deadly, yet oh-so-gentle hands, imagining how they might tickle as they might glide over her smooth skin. Of course, Dean notices.

“There’s no way you’re cold, Jay. It’s a hundred friggin degrees outside!”

Right. Jay had to remind herself that they were on a case. No distractions. “Yeah, I-I’m good. Just got a chill because, ya know, we’re next to human refrigerators.” She swallowed hard and clenched her teeth to help ground herself back to reality.

It really was hotter than a witch’s tit out there and not much cooler inside the mortuary. Dean continued to read silently from some forms on the coroner’s clipboard before licking his thumb and index finger to turn the page. Heat washed over Jay, spreading like drunken honey from her scalp all the way to her toes. She tried to steady her breathing, remain in persona as a stoney FBI agent, but the hot red of her cheeks was giving her away.

She tore her gaze away to inspect the body. Not that anything she made mental note of would stick at this point. Dean cleared his throat and pulled the clipboard closer to his face before setting his thumbnail between his teeth the way he always did when he was laser-focused on something. She only caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was the final bit to break her.

With a huff, Jay exclaimed a little too loudly, “There’s nothing here for us, Dean. I’ll be in the car.” Her legs carried her much too quickly out the swinging doors and up the stairs.

“Um, okay?” Dean grumbled to himself before setting the paperwork back in its place and following Jay. “What the hell got into her?”

Jay was glad to leave Texas. Mid-July heat drained her, along with every plant and tree scorched under the unrelenting and searing white sun. The world around them was bleached and bathed in the almost-eerie too-bright light. Well, everything except what existed in the shadows of the Impala. The sparse countryside rolled away mile by mile as time ticked by with every song on Dean’s favorite cassette.

The air conditioning just couldn’t keep up, so Dean rolled down the windows. Jay tied up her locks in frustration, leaving a messy excuse for a bun resting on top of her head. The leather seats did nothing to help as she sweat through her shorts until she was nearly sliding off the seat.

“How much longer until Oklahoma?” She sighed. For the third time that hour.

Dean shot a glare in her direction before settling his attention back on the highway. The heat was getting to him too, and even with sunglasses on, spots were gathering in his vision and impairing him with every piercing flash of the sun off of the windshields of passing cars. “Jay, I swear if you ask me ‘are we there yet’ one more time, I’m going to friggin pull over.”

“Ugh, FINE.” Jay wished to be nearly anywhere but here. Resignation set in and she slumped in the seat and let her bare feet hang out the window, crossing her arms.

Dean turned the music louder, trying to drown out his own misery rather than her. He began to belt out slightly off-key to “Dazed and Confused.”

Jay cracked a half smile but hid it from Dean.

He rapped out the solos on the steering wheel, his hands keeping perfect time as they danced upon the taught leather.

Maybe pulling over wouldn’t be a half-bad idea, Jay thought.

She closed her eyes, allowing the steady rumble of the engine to echo through her as hot wind whipped through the cab. She cracked them open again just long enough to witness the stretch of tight skin over Dean’s knuckles, the way the washed out wilderness blurred past behind them and accentuated the tan he’d gained from driving.

The image was burned into her mind. To help pass the time, Jay granted herself permission to linger on it, explore it. Despite the heat outside, a new, different heat grew steadily in her core, stirring somewhere deep between her heart and soul.

Not too long after, the Impala slowed and turned into a run down gas station--the first one in an hour. As Dean filled up, Jay took the opportunity to find shelter in some air conditioning and hopefully an ice-cold drink. Inside the store was no better. In fact, it was worse. The air was still and thick with humidity from the cooler, which buzzed and whirred as if it were possessed.

“Sorry, Miss. Cooler is out. Hot drinks only,” a disheveled and sweat-drenched employee slouched over the register.

“Thanks… got any pie?” Jay decided that if they had to drink hot water, they may as well have some comfort food.

“Whatever we got is over there.” The clerk motioned with his eyes, no strength to even lift a finger.

Jay stalked back to the car empty handed and more pissed than ever. If the summer heat was something tangible, she could just strangle it. Kick it, punch it. Anything to fight it.

Dean finished up just in time, careful not to touch the scorching black paint and chrome on the car. “What, you go pee and come out with nothing? I’m dyin’ here!”

Jay snapped. “NO DRINKS. NO PIE. NOTHING. K?!”

Dean was taken aback by the outburst. It was then he noticed the sunken look and dark circles under her eyes and the red sheen over her face and neck. She was getting pale and wasn’t sweating anymore.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows knit as he drove slowly through the town, hoping for a decent motel to rest at for a while. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait but a few blocks before The Moonlight Motel came into view.

Pay by the hour may not be the greatest, but at least it was cheap and would likely be empty this time of day.

Jay was losing touch and the following events were a blur. The next thing she truly could grasp and remember was lying mostly clothed in a cold shower. Dean sat facing her atop the closed toilet seat, a worried face perched upon clasped hands. Still a bit out of it, Jay relaxed into the cool water as it slowly washed the fever down the drain. The world slipped away, replaced by a gentle, dark nothing.

When Jay stirred, the room was too dim to still be day and shadows were held at bay by only a small lamp on the far side of the dingy room. She couldn’t remember how she got there at first, but as she woke, things gradually came back to her.

Dean had practically carried her to the room. He’d carefully set her in the bathtub and removed her belt, overshirt and boots. He’d turned on the cold water and at first, she’d protested, but slipped in and out of consciousness. He’d retrieved ice from the machine down the hall and poured it over her as he constantly monitored her vitals and temperature.

He’d withdrawn her, a soaking wet dead weight, stripped away the sopping clothes while careful not to look where it would make her uncomfortable, and buttoned her up in the softest flannel he had.

Jay glanced down at her right hand, as it felt stiff and sore. A needle was taped there, no longer hooked to the empty bag of saline, taped down and left in place just in case. Jay wiggled slightly when she realized that her other arm had gone quite numb beneath her and--Dean?

His soft snores disrupted as she shifted, equally mortified and elated to be nestled into the crook of his arm. Dean woke and rubbed his eyes, as if pretending he’d been awake the whole time. His voice was low and gravely from sleep.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He looked down at her, so small in his arms, furious with himself for not taking better care of her.

“M-good,” Jay choked out, completely entranced by being so close to the hunter. Close enough for their breath to mix and his cologne to shroud her senses. Close enough to see the flecks of golds and blues and dark greens in the folds of his irises. Her breath caught and she shivered. Again. Jay mentally kicked herself for that tell. “Thank you… Sorry I was being a brat.”

“No. No, this is on me. You were sun-sick. I’m sorry. I should’ve--”

Jay put a finger to his parted lips with only the intention to stop Dean from blaming himself (like always,) but the touch sent electric pulses through her fingertips and set fire to every nerve in her body. They were impossibly soft and warm.

Dean caught her hand tenderly in his before she could pull away and planted a slow kiss on her knuckles. He watched anxiously as her pupils dilated and her breathing became more shallow. Pulling their hands out of the way, Dean leaned forward just slightly and planted a firm, reassuring kiss to her forehead.

Jay’s mind was a mess. This was more than familial. Were they crossing a line? Or maybe it just meant that Dean was comfortable with her, and concerned. But even as the thoughts swirled, her lips had a mind of their own. As Dean traced his nose down hers until their heads were pressed together, Jay angled upward to meet him.

When their lips locked, there was no more question. Jay loved Dean, and he knew and he loved her back. It was soft and sweet, with their eyes shut tight, just exploring and tasting and sucking gently.

The remainder of the trip back to the bunker was spent with Dean humming, a stupid smile plastered on his face, and Jay resting across the front seat, her head in his lap. Dean stroked her soft, brown hair adoringly. The night was much cooler and comfortably dark with only dim, scattered stars to blanket the hunters.

Everything was different after the motel. The kiss.

Almost six months had gone by and for the most part, they’d been wonderful. Jay spent more time in Dean’s room than her own, and the hunts had been good so far, like old times.

Until this one.

Jay, Sam, and Dean were doing a bit of recon at a local bar to dig up some answers, or at the very least, a lead. Jay had dressed to stun, as usual. (After all, men’s lips tended to be a bit more loose around a pretty girl.)

Dean was hovering. Everytime Jay got close to some useful information, Dean would scare off the burly locals with a death glare.

Until this one.

This man was built like a tank. He towered even over Sam by a few inches and dwarfed Jay in comparison. Sam eyed her uncomfortably from a few tables over, but he always got like that when someone was bigger than him. Dean didn’t adjust his tactics at all, and when the big guy had enough of Dean dancing around him and bumping his chair with an insincere, “sorry, man,” the guy stood up and puffed out his chest. Dean moved to both protect Jay and get in a prime fighting position, but Jay yanked him away by the collar of his jacket faster than he could complain.

She didn’t stop until they were completely outside the bar, then shoved him into the soot-covered brick wall. Dean opened his mouth to spout something pigheaded, but stopped himself as he felt the chill of her glare more than the chill of the snow flurries swirling around them.

“Would you just trust me to do my job? What is your problem?”

“I do! I just--” Dean waved in a flustered motion, unable to find the words. All he knew was that when she got a little too... comfortable... with anyone, he saw red.

Still, Jay seemed to understand. She reached up and held his face firmly between her palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

“I’m yours. I know that you worry, what you fear. I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No one can ever take me from you, either, because I’ll haunt your ass and you know it.”

Dean’s bottom lips quivered just barely, and he quickly bit it back. “Don’t you even joke about that,” his voice broke.

“De- I’m right here, okay?”

He nodded and leaned into her until his face was buried in her neck. He squeezed his arms around her, never wanting to know what it would feel like to have to let go.

A muffled “let’s go back to the motel” emanated from somewhere within Jay’s scarf and she nodded in response.

Dean grasped her hand as they walked the short distance back to the rented room. Jay stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pointing over to the edge of the woods. A startled “Dean!” escaped her, and Dean dropped her hand and withdrew his gun, ready for a fight. His plumes of hot breath on the air slowed to nearly nothing as he steadied himself and visually searched the area.

What had she seen?

Before he could ask, something hard, round and icey struck the back of his shoulder with decent force. He spun on his heels and lowered his weapon to find Jay wide-mouthed and laughing, another snowball forming in her hands.

“Son of a bitch! You want to play dirty, huh?” Dean howled. He holstered the pistol and raced to close the distance between them. With a squeal and a grunt, the two ended up in a heap in the wet, mushy snow.

Jay managed to end up on top of him and leaned in for a deep kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips as his tongue graced across hers. When at last they came up for air, Dean was moving his arms and legs haphazardly.

“A slush-angel?” Jay giggled at the sorry creation.

“What, my art not good enough for you?” Dean retorted while wearing a shit-eating grin. “And no, actually, it’s a Yeti.”

The wet chill began to sink into their bones, so they hurried onward. Dean fiddled with the key card but the lock gave him fits.

“C’mon, Dean! I’m freezing to death!”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hold your horses.”

At last, the door swung open and Jay rushed inside, leaving Dean to close and lock the door behind them. She’d already started stripping off the wet outer layers when Dean approached. With every step bringing him closer, his heartbeat rose and he wrestled out of his own layers.

Jay moved to lift off her shirt, but Dean covered her hands with his, intertwining their fingers. He stood against her, and in one swift move, wrapped both of her wrists in a single firm grip behind her, and with the other, pressed an open palm against her belly.

Jay gasped, her knees going weak with what she knew was coming next. Despite the weather, his touch was toasty. Coarse skin slid over her soft flesh, causing a friction that left Jay needing more. Heat flushed her cheeks and pooled deep in her stomach. Dean melted with every shuttered breath of hers as he stroked up and down beneath the fabric of her shirt, making sure to linger over the more sensitive areas as she twitched and bit down on her lip.

Dean massaged her breasts with skilled fingers for a few moments, but a sensual twist of her nipple sent Jay reeling backwards, supported only by Dean’s other arm. With her head tilted back, Dean took the opportunity to kiss and suck and nip zig-zagged lines over the most delicate parts of her neck and along her collarbone.

Jay squirmed and panted with lust-blown pupils and a cry just on the tip of her tongue. Dean’s grasp only steadied her against him more until he found himself grinding into her, faint moans already filling the air. The growing bulge in his pants drove Jay mad. She wanted to be covered by him, skin on skin, needed him inside her.

“D-Dean please, please…” Jay whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of his hold once more to no avail.

“Please, what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” Dean breathed against her ear, just above a whisper. He sucked and nibbled in the hollow behind it.

A shudder wracked Jay, but this time, she didn’t mind the tell. She had him. He was hers. But right then, she needed more and she knew he was holding back. “Unnghh, please… need you, now,” she managed.

“Okay, Baby,” Dean crashed his lips to hers and shifted until Jay was suspended in the air and straddling him as he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her playfully and they scrambled to see who could lose their remaining clothes the fastest.

In a fray of scattered clothing, Dean climbed on top of her, comfortably crushing Jay into the lumpy mattress. He let his full weight rest upon her.

“Stop it,” she giggled as his scruff tickled her cheek.

“Why don’t you make me?” Dean grinned between planting kisses everywhere he could reach.

Before he could react, Jay had him rolled onto the floor. She straddled him and tried to concentrate despite his hard cock resting perfectly between her hot, dripping folds. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, blocking out everything but that moment and the sensations it was riddled with. Dean’s eyes closed and mouth opened like a fish out of water. His breaths were shallow and shaky. Jay fought the urge to lift her hips just so, knowing that if she did, and she came back down upon him, his throbbing dick would line up just perfectly… and they’d end up on the floor for the remainder of their romp.

She rose to her feet, grasping his hand and pulling him up with her. Dean’s eyes were full of question, longing. His cheeks were flushed and hot to the touch. He was melting at every touch and could do nothing about it but wait for her.

Jay led him over to the chair and pushed him into it. He nearly tripped on his way down. That stupid smile she loved so much spread across his face again as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her onto him. She let out a yelp as the broad head of his large cock spread her entrance, dripping with precum, and buried itself deep inside until her walls stretched almost uncomfortably. The shock of his size was something she’d never get used to. Each time was like the first, the same butterflies swarming in her stomach, the same jolts of pure lust burning through her veins.

Dean gasped and held her close to him, trembling hands roaming her back and squeezing her ass. Jay carded her hands through his hair and pulled just slightly at the nape of his neck as he whined in approval. Those laments made her head swim and her limbs weak. Drunk on Dean, she adjusted her position until he was sunk deep into the spot that was just right, then began to move back and forth, slow and steady. Dean’s breaths stuttered and his head fell back, leaving his neck open for Jay to take into her mouth.

“Fuck--Baby you feel s-so good,” he stammered between increasing moans and grunts. She could see in his eyes that he was losing control.

Jay cried out as he began to fight her movements with his own, pounding up in all the right spots. She arched her back as the coil wound tighter… higher… tighter… higher... until she shattered in his arms, his name and curses spilling from her gaping mouth.

He held her through it and chased his own orgasm, sucking a mark onto her chest before he spilled into her. Everyone would know she was his, and only his. Her walls clenched in waves and he pulsed within them, his delicious sounds filling her ears as she came down.

Jay crashed her lips into his, and he returned with fervor until they were both completely breathless. Wrapped there in Dean’s arms, Jay was home.

No, nothing was ever the same after that first kiss. And that was okay. It was amazing.

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @taste-of-dean @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie @thinkinghardhardlythinking

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

@waywardbaby* the smut was heavily inspired by The Scene. Tagged as promised lol

Tag List now open!

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #hands that heal #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x ofc #dean x jay #fluff #smut #supernatural

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ill-go-with-that-then · 4 years

Text

Some Like It Hot

a quick erasermic fic - rated G

The crime rate goes up during heat waves. Shouta doesn’t have a source for that, it’s just one of those things you always hear, but he thinks it’s true. The unpleasant weather puts everyone a little closer to the edge, even the cheerful older lady who sells him his morning newspaper had sighed when he opened the shop door, bringing a burst of humid air in with him. Petty criminals who’d usually go in without a struggle have been more likely to take a swing, lately. Even the plants along the edge of the street are drooping and wilted. The whole world seems more miserable than usual.

With one exception.

“Shouta!!” Hizashi beams at him from the other side his apartment door. Shouta has to squint against his brightness, even through the peephole. “Let me in!”

“Why.” It’s not really a question, Shouta is already working on the locks, but Hizashi has an answer ready, apparently.

“Because I’m your best friend and best friends don’t leave each other on the doorstep!” Hizashi’s smile widens as the door swings open. “And besides, we patrol together today!”

Shouta scowls. He hadn’t forgotten, they’ve done their first patrol of the month together since they graduated. But it’s so damn hot, he’d intended to skip work for once, in favor of slowly melting to death in front of his cheap fan. He’d just expected Hizashi, who is generally devoted to his comforts and also the owner of an actual air conditioner, to be the one to call it off. But now Hizashi is here, in head to toe leather, and still smiling. Not for the first time, Shouta wonders if his friend doesn’t have some kind of secondary quirk that keeps him from feeling the same fatigue as a normal person. “Let me get my scarf,” he mutters, grabbing his equipment from its messy pile by the door.

“You seem grumpy,” Hizashi says, like he has no idea why Shouta could possibly be unhappy to be walking around in all black on a day like today. Still, Shouta appreciates that he didn’t say “grumpier than usual” like most people - all right, every other person Shouta knows - would have.

“It’s too hot,” is all Shouta is prepared to say on the matter. Whining about it isn’t going to help. Still, he’d feel a little better if Hizashi didn’t look so... put together. His uniform is even thicker than Shouta’s, but he doesn’t seem at all uncomfortable.

“Ah, it’s not so bad!” Hizashi knocks his shoulder against Shouta’s as they leave the building. It’s even warmer outside, with the bright rays of the sun baking down onto the pavement. For a moment, Shouta envies Hizashi’s tinted glasses. “C’mon, I’ll buy you an iced coffee!”

Shouta’s not going to say no to that, so the cafe on the corner is their first stop. It’s crowded; they’re apparently not the only ones to have this idea, and the air in the shop is thick and tense.

“Do you have to stand so close!” A guy a few places up in line spins around to scold the woman behind him.

“There’s a ton of room in front of you, move up!” The woman steps forward, even further into his space, and Shouta puts a hand on his capture weapon, ready to break up a fight before the first swing lands-

But Hizashi is faster. “Hey now!” he says appeasingly, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “No need to argue! There’s enough coffee to go around, and-” he whips out his wallet with a flourish. “It’s on me, yeah? Coffee for everybody!”

The mood immediately relaxes, and everyone waiting in line brightens at Hizashi’s generous offer. Even Shouta is impressed. Not at the cost - coffee is hardly expensive, and Hizashi can afford it easily - but at how efficiently Hizashi had diffused the situation. The rest of the customers leave smiling, a very different outcome than if Shouta had been by himself.

They finally escape with their drinks, a little later than expected, but Shouta’s not going to complain. The slow walk up and down the streets seems like it takes even longer than usual, and Shouta can feel his hair stuck down with sweat to the back of his neck. It’s awful.

“Let’s cut through the park,” he suggests as they pass it, desperate to get out of the sun, at least for a little while.

“Sure!” Hizashi chirps, sipping at his drink. Shouta eyes it jealously, he’d finished his own long ago. And apparently he’s not as subtle about it as he thinks, because Hizashi notices his expression and laughs. “Here,” he shoves the cup towards Shouta, who takes it reflexively.

Shouta brings it to his lips - it’s still cold - and tries not to listen to the little voice in his head laughing at their “indirect kiss.” It sounds like Kayama. “Thanks,” he says around the straw.

“You looked like you needed it,” Hizashi smiles. Then he starts whistling a cheerful tune as they walk along the shaded path through the park. It’s not a long walk - in just a few minutes they’re out from under the trees and at the park’s open center, next to the fountain. Usually it’s crowded with families and couples, but today it’s almost deserted, with most people sticking to the cooler areas in the shade.

“Looks like the clouds are rolling in,” Aizawa notices, peering up at the suddenly overcast sky and trying hard not to get his hopes up. “Do you think it might-“

A loud clap of thunder interrupts before he can finish the thought, but renders the question moot, anyway. Before he can say anything else, the sky opens, rain pouring down like a bucket’s been overturned in the heavens.

Shouta is soaked instantly, the cool water a blessed relief on his overwarm skin. “Looks like the heat broke,” he says, voice raised over the patter of the raindrops.

“Thank god,” Hizashi says, tipping his face up towards the sky. His hair is ruined, stuck to his face in lank strings, and his glasses are so splattered with water Shouta can barely see the outline of his closed eyes. “That was so fucking miserable, wasn’t it?”

Shouta can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, he has to brace himself against his knees to keep from tumbling straight to the ground. “Shouta?” Hizashi asks, the pitch of his voice concerned, but also a little amused, like he knows exactly what Shouta found funny. “You okay?”

“Perfect,” Shouta says as he catches his breath, still chuckling a little as he straightens back up. Quick as a blink, he leans forward into Hizashi’s space and kisses him, a hand cradling each side of Hizashi’s familiar, perfect face.

“I’m definitely not complaining,” Hizashi says when he pulls away, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting hard not to grin. “But what was that for?”

Shouta shrugs, tempted to lean in and do it again, hesitating only because Hizashi really deserves some explanation. “You were just as unhappy as me, this whole time. But still trying to cheer me up. It - I appreciate you. That you do stuff like that.”

“And that’s how you show your appreciation?” Hizashi smirks, leaning his forehead to Shouta’s temple. It almost derails his train of thought, but Shouta soldiers on.

“Not usually,” he says, turning his head at the last moment, so his lips meet Hizashi’s for a quick kiss. “But it did make me wonder what else you’ve been hiding.”

Hizashi seems to have given up fighting his grin, smiling wide enough now that Shouta can’t really kiss him anymore, but that’s all right. There will be time for that later, lots of time. “Guess my secret’s out, huh?”

Shouta reaches forward, wiping the hair out of Hizashi’s eyes and off his face. “Let’s call it a day. No villain’s going to try anything in this weather, and I have a fan at home we can sit in front of.”

“Well I have towels, and an air conditioner that’s been running nonstop for a week.” Hizashi peers over the edge of his glasses at Shouta, eyes warm and bright and just a little wicked, and Shouta is pretty sure he’d agree to anything to keep Hizashi looking at him like that. Even if Hizashi’s offer weren’t clearly superior already.

For the first time all day, Shouta smiles. “Lead the way.”

#erasermic #maizawa #my writing

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years

Text

just a job

summary: working wardrobe for the new film ‘bohemian rhapsody’ is not all its cracked up to be. until it is.

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: language, ~suggestive~ themes (but who am i kidding? we’re all here for that)

a/n: i’m continuing to work on the next chapter for “even now” but this has been in my drafts for awhile, so i thought i would finish it. enjoy, loves! xoxo.

you hate your job. really, you do. despite what your younger sister believes, it’s not glamorous and it’s not well-paid. it’s simply a 9-5, clock-in & clock-out, leave-work-at-work gig to hold you over until your final semester at university ends.

at twenty-seven, you could have two degrees by now. instead you have zero—and a startlingly amount of student debt amassed thanks to your two attempts at completing a single degree. it’s been complicated, to say the very least, and you don’t like to dwell on past failures.

you consider your job a necessary evil. there’s no one to pay tuition bills except you, so when your cousin landed a position in makeup for a new film and mentioned the need for a wardrobe assistant, you applied. the work is simple, mindless even. you take measurements, offer your opinion when asked, and catalog the different costumes. you’re truly a glorified hunter-gatherer: you hunt through the rows and rows of possible options and bring back what’s needed.

still, it’s a job, and it pays the bills. for the most part, you stomach it. there’s loads of downtime, giving you ample opportunity to study or write a term paper. your co-workers are nice enough. they live completely different lives, surrounded by the latest fashion magazines and sketchbooks full of costume ideas. your workspace—a child-sized deck in the corner of the trailer—is covered in maths books. your future in mathematics lends itself to things like tailoring and fabric measurements, but it’s not the same. there’s an obvious disconnect; you try your best to smile and fit in, anyway.

your cousin, morgan, finds you on a lonely tuesday afternoon. it’s drizzling outside, so her hair is puffy when she enters the trailer.

“this damn weather,” she mutters. though she’s your first cousin on your mother’s side, she grew up in australia, and her accent, thick as it is, never fails to make you smile. “i swear, if gwil comes back and his wig is all frizzed out, i’m gonna pop a lid or something.”

“that bad outside?”

“humid as hell and still raining.” she sets her paper coffee cup, stained with purple lipstick around the edge, on the counter. “how’s the paper comin’?”

you glance at your work, at the empty word document on your laptop screen, and shake your head. “it’s not. i tried to start but i just...” your words drift away, incomplete but crystal clear at the same time.

“hey.” morgan crosses the narrow trailer to squeeze your shoulder. “stop doubting yourself.”

peering up through your lashes, you shrug. “i don’t know if i have what it takes to a researcher, that’s all.”

morgan scoffs. “that’s horse-shit and you know it! think about it: you like maths, for some strange reason, and you like medicine, and you want to marry those two and become the best biomedical blah-blah researcher the world has ever seen. and be smoking hot at the same time. don’t give up on yourself now, [y/n]. not when you’re so close.”

you rise from your chair and lift your arms over your head to stretch. you know she means well—hell, you’ve been through this all once before—but your fears persist. with a good-natured roll of your eyes, you close your laptop. “you’re supposed to say that. you’re family.”

“maybe, but it’s the truth.”

the trailer door bursts open, and you glance at the faded clock on the wall. post-lunch break. time for a scene change and costume switch.

your boss, richard, climbs the trailer steps, his glasses fogged over by the weather. he tosses a plastic-wrapped lunch plate on your desk before feathering your cheek with a kiss. his beard scratches your face, but you return the air-kiss, still feeling slightly ridiculous any time you imitate his standard greeting.

“sorry, lovie. you’ll have to eat later. the boys are on their way and we only have them for a few before the cameras start rolling again.” richard sheds his leather jacket and runs a hand through his rain-slick hair. “morgan, you’re taking up too much space. shoo, honey, shoo!”

“right, of course! i’ve got to go wrangle gwilym’s wig anyway.” before exiting the trailer, morgan lifts her brows in your direction. “remember what i said, okay? it really is the truth.”

shuffling to the door, richard waves his hands in a shooing motion. “yeah, yeah, we get it. you’re family and you love each other. scram—and i mean that in the nicest way possible.” once morgan disappears, he points to the back of the trailer. “i need you to find those god-awful corduroy pants. joe has to wear them today and last time i checked there was a tear up the inseam.”

you do as your told, squishing your way to the storage area. four clothes racks—one for each of the boys—take up the majority of the trailer space. aside from a bathroom the size of a postage stamp and an area for fittings, it’s a tight squeeze. that squeeze is made even tighter anytime one or more of the borhap boys makes their entrance. their personalities are distinct and their friendships are loud; it should be endearing, but it often leaves a headache grating at the back of your skull from all the noise.

from your place jammed between joe and ben’s clothing racks, you can hear him—joe—as he makes his way to the fitting stool.

“okay, but listen to this, richard.” his voice is muffled by the mink coat your head is pressed against, but you already know the routine. he’ll start with some ridiculous anecdote then work his way to a joke or two, peppering in a smattering of questions for good measure. it’s the same nearly every day.

joe is kind. they all are. but joe, specifically, is the most gregarious of the bunch—a bit much for your quiet tendencies. he makes you laugh on occasion, but the majority of the time, his personality is too big for the sandwich-sized trailer. you’d never tell him that, of course, so you often spend most of his fittings with a haphazard smile on your face, your mind millions of miles away.

corduroy pants retrieved, you wiggle your way to the fitting area. richard has his hands full with rami, attempting to peel a black-and-white checkered unitard off the poor man, so he gestures to joe with his foot.

“fix that inseam,” he says, his voice strained with effort.

joe has a wry smile on his face when you look at him. “look, [y/n], i normally don’t take my pants off on the first date, but i’ll make an exception for you.”

you toss the pants at his chest. an girlish blush crawls up the back of your neck, so you turn away, rooting around on your desk for your sewing kit. to further enflame your face, you cringe when you hear his jeans unzip and drop to the floor with a soft whoosh. your fingers stutter over the assortment of books, papers, and fabric materials on the table.

what has you so nervous, you aren’t sure. joe is handsome. again, they all are. you suppose it’s the idea of having your face inches from his crotch as soon as he’s clothed. not for the first time, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. a biomedical researcher would never have to deal with this.

“m’lady, i am ready.”

the plastic surrounding the sewing kit bites your palm as you hold it tight, turning to face him. “don’t be so smug. it’s not cute.”

joe frowns. he looks slightly ridiculous, like a small child, in his wig: the straight bangs, the uneven locks of hair brushing the collar of his shirt. he looks like john deacon; at least, you assume he does. you’re no expert. still, his frown coupled with the wig and the striped shirt and corduroy reminds you more of a primary school boy than rock god oozing sex appeal. it’s discombobulating.

“you’re a hard nut to crack, [y/n].”

lowering to your knees, you nudge his legs apart with your knuckles. already, you feel a lump rise in your throat. “yeah?”

“i’m in here every day and i don’t think i’ve made you laugh once.”

“that’s not true.” you search the recesses of your mind for a memory, but can only think about how, if you move an inch to your left, your forehead will brush the fold of his pants near his most delicate parts.

(god, you need to get laid. between a flurry of dead-end jobs and university courses, you can’t remember the last time you had a good romp in the hay just to blow off some steam.)

joe doesn’t seem at all bothered by your proximity. that is, until you run the flat of your hand down the inseam of his leg. you swear you hear him hiss, but maybe it’s just your imagination. regardless, he jumps a little, and you look up with a wince.

“sorry, cold hands. i’m just looking for the tear.”

he nods, a definite flush to his cheeks.

the tear—a whopping four inches from top to bottom—is nestled near the back of joe’s left thigh. you might be able to get away with a bit of fashion tape, but richard has an eye for detail. he claims the camera can pick out every loose thread, every minor snag.

drawing back, you pop open the sewing kit with a click. “you’ve made me laugh before,” you say. it’s a lame attempt to break the silence, but you’ve never claimed to be the best conversationalist.

“huh? oh.” he hesitates. his eyes narrow, but there’s a playful glint to his gaze. “you’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

“no, it’s the truth. there was that time with the... dinosaur story. and the other time with the baseball thing and your brother.”

he runs his pointer finger over the fingers on his opposite hand, eyes rolled toward the ceiling as he counts under his breath. “so, twice?”

you nod. “at least.” with a flourish of your needle and thread, you warn, “cold hands coming in again.”

he shifts to stand a little wider. his arms cross over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. “twice is good. i can live with twice. my normal goal is twenty times at minimum, but i can adjust.”

you fall silent. once you’ve located the rip, you give it a good tug, testing to see whether it will tear more before you’ve finished the job. it holds, thank goodness, so you place the needle at the base of the rip and start threading it back and forth.

you don’t turn when richard announces, "be back, [y/n]. rami’s stuck. we need baby oil from makeup.”

at this, joe laughs. his hand slaps his opposite leg, his body heaving as he all but cackles. you jostle with the force of his amusement, and the needle stabs the exposed flesh his thigh. this time he does hiss, pulling back on instinct.

you grimace. “sorry! you moved!”

“that’s your excuse? you sure you didn’t plan to stab me?”

“why would i do that?”

“‘cause you think i’m annoying!”

“i don’t think you’re annoying—not all the time, anyway.”

“aha! so you do think i’m annoying!”

you huff. “joe, please. i’m just trying to do my job.”

perhaps it’s the weariness in your tone that drains the good-natured grin from his face. maybe it’s your confession, which you hadn’t meant to confess. whatever it is, he clears his throat and looks toward the mirrors on the wall across from him, arms snug over his chest again. you return to the tear.

the silence stretches thin with tension. you’ve wounded his pride, you know, but you aren’t sure why it’s shut him down. you’ve interacted only a handful of times, and you try to keep professional, distanced, any time you do interact with a cast member. his suddenly-cold exterior is peculiar.

“can you turn around for me?” he does so without complaint. his ass looks good in the pants, you’ll give him that, and this vantage point gives better access to the top of the tear. a win-win, you suppose.

“what did you mean by twenty times?” you ask. “your normal goal being twenty times?” another lame attempt at breaking the tension.

he shrugs. “it’s stupid.”

tear repaired, you stand. “no, i want to hear. please?”

gently, you tug his arm so he faces you again. you glance over his new outfit, searching for minuscule imperfections. you can feel his eyes search your face in a similar manor, and your face grows warm under the scrutiny.

in lieu of an proper response, he kisses you.

the sudden contact causes you to drop your sewing kit to the floor. the plastic breaks—you can hear the crunch—but you don’t care. it’s been a long time since anyone kissed you and a longer time since anyone kissed you properly. his lips are soft and skilled, slow against your own. you rest your hands on his forearms, let him kiss you until he pulls back.

your skin feels like it’s on fire, and your chest is tight with anxiety. you swallow hard, eyes darting back and forth between his.

“i don’t like it when girls i like think i’m annoying.” his voice is thick, but his words remind you of a schoolboy’s again. it’s endearing; you smile.

“i’m quiet, that’s all.”

“i’m not.”

“i know.”

“usually i can tell if a girl is interested by how many times she laughs when i talk. twenty times and over, i’ve got a solid in. you’ve never given me an in.”

“i suppose twice is a little below the mark.”

he leans forward, as if to kiss you again, and your eyes flutter shut, but his nose merely brushes yours. “go out with me... to dinner. let me make you laugh again.”

you know you should say no. if not for the sake of professionalism, for the simple sake of proving your sister wrong. she’d told you at the start that you would meet someone and it would be dreamy and romantic and totally Hollywood. you’d promised her you wouldn’t.

but joe is cute. and even though he’s loud and chaotic, there’s something about him. he’s like a magnet. despite when your head aches because he and ben are singing too loud, you’re drawn to him. there’s no use denying it.

“one date,” you whisper, holding up your finger. “i’ll give you one date to let you try.”

“how do i know if there will be a second?”

you have to laugh at his boldness. his grin widens at the sound.

stepping back, his hands dropping from your hips, he shows three fingers. “that’s three times. i think that automatically qualifies me for a second date.”

“we haven’t even gone on our first!”

“doesn’t matter.” he hops down from the dressing stool and presses a loud kiss to your cheek. “pencil it in. two dates, back to back.”

“joe—”

he pauses at the trailer door. his toothy smile flips your stomach. “i’m being annoying, i know.”

before you can laugh again, you bite your lip. “get out of here, you idiot.”

he purses his lips in an air-kiss before bouncing out the door.

you grab the broken sewing kit from the floor. straightening, glance at yourself in the mirror.

your cheeks are flushed and your lips look freshly kissed, but you’re smiling. maybe not laughing, but smiling. joe’s the first guy who’s made you smile in awhile. he’s made the stress in your chest relax, and the constant worry at the back of your head slow.

that ought to count for something. maybe even a third date.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #j writes

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ssfdvbed · 3 years

Text

I was about to lose the fruit of all my efforts at self-improvement

She had learned early on that innkeeps and taverners were more apt to tolerate her presence if it was not a frequent occurrence. “For now. We will see how well you hold it.” Stannis pointed at him. Great was the lore that raised it, and great the spells locked beneath its ice. We walk beneath one of the hinges of the world.” Melisandre gazed up at it, her breath a warm moist cloud in the air. jean coquelin“I have had some maps prepared to show the dispositions of our foes, their camps and siege lines and trebuchets. Rain, he thought. The cobbles underfoot were filthy, and there was so little space that the queen could not even walk around the puddles. No one has ever died of wet feet, she told herself. It was self-defence,—it was preventing others from murdering me,—it was justifiable, it was even praiseworthy. But now, all at once, the truth burst upon me that it was a crime. I was going to kill a young man, who had done nothing to injure me, but obey commands which he could not resist; I was about to lose the fruit of all my efforts at self-improvement, the character I had acquired, and the peace of mind which had never deserted me. Breathe out the fear. The taste was so cloying that it was all he could do to keep it down. The second cup went down easier, however.

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noeliareads · 4 years

Text

“5SOS IN 2014?”

The prompt: “I would like to see a goth!/punkbf!johnny au bc reasons” Man, you’re not the only one!

words: 1028

category: fluff+randomness

author note: I pulled my emo/punk playlist from the grave. I hope you enjoy it!

“5SOS IN 2014″

“Johnny, do you really need another pair of dr martens?” You ask as you collapse on one of the benches in the store.

“Yup!” Johnny’s tall figure browsed the different styles of shoes until he saw one pair that caught his eye. He lifted the boot proudly. “How about these?!” Your eyes widened causing Johnny to crack up.

“God no.” You say. Johnny raised his hand to call over the employee and proceeded to ask for his size. “Johnny!”

“What?” He leaned on the wall facing you and crossed his arms. The tattoos on his arms peeked underneath the leather jacket he insisted on wearing even though the weather forecast predicted a high of 90 degrees. Still, he looked rather ravishing.

“Y/N.” You blink away your previous thoughts and looked up at him.

“Huh?” His pierced right brow lifted slightly.

“What are you staring at dummy?”

“Noooothing.” You sing.

Johnny pushed himself off the wall and crouched in front of you. He rested a hand on your knee.

“Oh really?” He taunted. Just in time, the employee brought the pair of boots. Johnny thanks him quickly and sits beside you to try them on.

“Dude.” You say. “Do you really wanna get a pair of platform dr martens?”

“Lol. Why not?” He responded standing up with them on. You gaped. God no.

Your boyfriend was easily around 6’3. (ya’ll are lying to yourselves if you think he’s 6’0). With those boots? He looked TALL but like, TALL. Too tall. The way he intimidated you just doubled. I mean, how could he not? He was the definition of a punk bad boy. If you google punk or goth you will find the typical spiked hair, tattoos, the eyeliner… You get the idea. Johnny had his own vibe. Yeah, he mostly wore black and always wore his leather jacket and always wore his docs and he did wear eye makeup a lot… ok yes, he’s a punk wannabe.

Today? With those boots? *chefs kiss* the platform boots paired with his skinny jeans made his legs look infinite. But as he looked at himself in the mirror you couldn’t help but still feel slightly scared of him. He laughed at your horrified expression in the mirror. His laugh was so contagious that he made you laugh too.

“Babe no.” You say. “Just get a pair of vans.” He whipped around in the blink of an eye.

“Vans?” He exclaimed clutching his chest. “Do you want me to look like 5sos in 2014?”

“What’s wrong with that? They’re hot. Plus, I’m wearing a pair now.” He sat beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he whispered in your ear.

“It’s the aesthetic.”

“Aesthetic?” You scoff. “Aesthetic is Alex Turner in AM era.” Your boyfriend tilted his head to the side. (gif for a bit of context)

“So I’m not punk aesthetic?” You get up and pull up your pants before standing in front of him. Ironically you were eye level with him.

“Babe.” Placing a hand on his shoulder you whisper “You listen to Twice every time you shower. You cry with romance movies PLUS you sleep with your childhood blankie.”

The giant covered your mouth with his hand, quickly looking around making sure no one heard.

“For the record-” you muffle “you’re my aesthetic.” A faint blush covered his cheeks and the tip of his ears turned red.

“Umm… Excuse me-” Mark, the employee interrupted “Are you going to get the boots?”

“Yes, but instead of these I need the regular ones in a women’s size 7.” Johnny said.

“John, who’s that for?”

“You silly.”

“But babe...” You felt bad, they’re expensive pairs of shoes.

“Shush, no buts. You mentioned wanting them for a while. Plus, take it as an introduction to the punk aesthetic.” He winked.

“You’re too much you know that right?”

“Ahh, that I know.” He affirmed. Johnny was excited! He could now match shoes with his girlfriend, as cheesy as it sounds. Regardless of his rough exterior, he was a complete softie.

The transaction was done quickly, Johnny not letting you pay a dime. You two walk out of the store hand in hand greeted by the beautiful summer heat. Johnny gagged.

“Ewwwww. It’s humid!” He let go of your hand and shrugged his jacket off, exposing his arms splattered with tats. The most prominent one being on his left forearm. His parent’s birthday in roman numerals. Damn. You think. How did I snag this guy? Johnny was ethereal, especially sporting the undercut he got done a couple of days ago. You could see his ear-piercing more clearly.

“Babe, stop staring. You’re drooling.” You immediately wipe our mouth causing him to burst out laughing.

“Shut up.” You murmur as he pulls you close.

“I love you.” He murmured pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too J.” You get on your toes and give him a swift peck. “Wanna get coffee?”

“Ohhhh say less!” He snatched the car keys from your hand and sprinted towards the car. “I CALL THE AUX CORD!”

“What?” You yell running after him and mentally cursing him for having such long legs. Why did we park so far away? “JOHNNY SEO!” You holler. “I’M TIRED OF YOUR PUNK BANDS!”

“YOU LIKE MOST OF THEM ANYWAYS!” He yells back already reaching the car. You catch up and gasp for breath as you lean on the driver’s side.

“Did you die?” He asked. You glare at him and scoff.

“No shit sherlock.” You two get in the car and he passes you the keys.

“Can we listen to fall out boy though?”

“Ok. That I do like.” Johnny fist bumps the air and connects his phone to the car speakers. Suddenly, Red Velvet starts playing at full blast. You’re looking at him mockingly as he purses his full lips looking up at the ceiling. He doesn’t even hide the fact that he was listening to RV.

“Red Velvet, huh?” He smiles sheepishly and shrugs.

“Zimzalabim is a bop.”

“Okay. Whatever you say, love.” You put the car in reverse and leave the parking lot. “Psycho is better tho.” You add quickly. That last comment drove you two into a debate of which RV title track is best.

#johnny seo #johnny #johnny nct #johnny suh #john suh #johfam #johnny fluff #au #kpop #nct 127 #johnny seo au #fanfic #kpop fanfic #johnny seo imagines

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murderballadeer · 4 years

Note

Hi, hope things are good with ya. Weird asks: 6, 7, 11, 12, 15-21, 23, 25, 28-31, 40-50, 60-70, 74, 79, 82-89, 93-98

hi! things are ok, thanks for asking (:

6 – pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? i kind of fluctuate between pastel and boho depending on the day.

7 – earbuds or headphones? earbuds, bc i can fit them in my coat pocket so i always have them on me. also i like to listen to podcasts in bed sometimes and i find it hard to get comfortable with headphones on.

11 – what you have for breakfast on an average day? scrambled eggs, toast and tea.

12 – name of your favorite playlist? it’s just called “april 16th, 2020 at 12:46 PM” bc i’m bad at naming stuff and that’s when i made it.

15 – favorite book you read as a school assignment? probably the giver.

16 – most comfortable position to sit in? with my knees drawn up to my chest. if i’m on a couch i like to do that but also lean my legs against the side of the couch.

17 – most frequently worn pair of shoes? my black low-top converse. i wear them almost every day bc they’re cute and comfy and go with most things since they’re a neutral color.

18 – ideal weather? i’m a big fan of rain, especially in the summer. i love a good thunderstorm. mostly though as long as it’s warm but not too hot (which for me is between 20℃ and 28℃, or 68℉ and 82℉) and not insanely humid (unless it’s raining of course) i’m happy.

19 – sleeping position? on my side.

20 – preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? notebook or laptop, i sometimes write on my phone but i don’t particularly enjoy it.

21 – obsession from childhood? greek mythology.

23 – strange habits? i have a tendency to tap my fingers on any and all surfaces within reach. also i pace a lot.

25 – first song you remember hearing? we used to have a cd that was a live recording of pete seeger performing a children’s concert and i have a vivid memory of one particular song that was about a frog. it’s this one:

youtube

28 – five songs to describe you?

diamond in your mind - solomon burke

dream a little dream of me - ella fitzgerald

i’ll get by – billie holiday

the long way round – dixie chicks

over the rainbow - judy garland

29 – best way to bond with you? go for a walk with me. that’s how i’ve had some of the deepest and most personal conversations of my life. talking about books and movies is also a good way to make friends with me.

30 – places that you find sacred? gardens in general, and the seashore.

31 – what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? i’ve come to the conclusion that it has to be red dress, but i have several and i’m at a loss to decide which one. also i’m very meek irl so idk how effective i would be at kicking ass under any circumstances.

40 – weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? what immediately came to mind is when a bunch of sec 2s (eighth graders) made a meme account on instagram to make fun of teachers (also the memes sucked but that’s not important) but the teachers found out and got the account deleted, but that’s not even that weird. honestly i’m blanking on weird stuff. there definitely was some but i don’t really remember.

41 – last person you texted? the last text i sent was to a group chat, but if you’re looking for an individual person it was to a friend of a friend who i know slightly. we were talking about strawberry-rhubarb pie.

42 – jacket pockets or pants pockets? jacket pockets. i’m female, where am i supposed to find pants with pockets i can fit stuff in?

43 – hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? hoodie or cardigan, depending on the day.

44 – favorite scent for soap? rose!

45 – which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? not a huge fan of any of them but i have been known to enjoy the occasional fantasy novel.

46 – most comfortable outfit to sleep in? i have very cute and comfy cotton pajamas with cats on them from little blue house. otherwise just an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts or pajama pants.

47 – favorite type of cheese? i’m not a huge fan of cheese in general but i like smoked cheddar and pecorino.

48 – if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? a raspberry, but i can’t quite explain why.

49 – what saying or quote do you live by? i usually try to remember “do no harm but take no shit”

50 – what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? it’s ridiculously easy to make me laugh and i honestly don’t remember what made me laugh the most. it’s usually just been random stuff that people say or do that’s only funny in the moment.

60 – if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? the only types of anime i know are hentai and magical girl so out of the two i guess magical girl? sorry i know literally nothing about anime.

61 – favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? “the time to make your mind up about people is never”. katharine hepburn says that in the philadelphia story and it really stuck with me.

62 – seven characters you relate to? anne shirley from anne of green gables and honestly i’m having trouble thinking of more? when i was younger i remember relating to hermione from harry potter i guess.

63 – five songs that would play in your club? jolene by dolly parton, foolin’ myself by billie holiday, tonight the heartache’s on me by the dixie chicks, dream girl by arthur alexander and get happy by judy garland.

64 – favorite website from your childhood? i have fond memories of playing games on friv.

65 – any permanent scars? i have a massive one on my left thigh. i got it when i fell down the stairs at my aunt’s while carrying a bowl of water for her cats and the bowl shattered and a shard cut me. i had to have 20 stitches.

66 – favorite flower(s)? lavender, lily of the valley, honeysuckle, dandelions, yellow roses, lilac, apple blossoms…

67 – good luck charms? i have a silver necklace with a pendant shaped like an owl that i wear to every exam.

68 – worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? banana flavored candy. revolting.

69 – a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? water is the only substance that is less dense in its solid form that in its liquid form. that’s why ice cubes float in water.

70 – left or right handed? right handed.

74 – at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? like a 7 i guess? i only really take painkillers if i have a bad headache and it’s keeping me awake (like if i have the flu or something) or if i have really bad menstrual cramps and i have to do stuff that day and can’t just lie in bed with a hot water bottle.

79 – which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? i can’t drive and thus don’t have a license, but the photo on my health card looks way better than my student id. even my passport photo looks better than my student id though so i think it’s just a bad picture. at least my yearbook photo is better.

82 – pc or console? neither, i don’t really play videogames.

83 – writing or drawing? writing.

84 – podcasts or talk radio? it depends for what purpose. i prefer podcasts for entertainment and to listen to when i’m jogging or whatever, but i like talk radio for background noise when i’m going about my day.

85 – fairy tales or mythology? mythology!

86 – cookies or cupcakes? cookies! cupcakes are kind of messy and hard to eat.

87 – your greatest fear? aside from the kind of vague ones like losing my family or never finding love or whatever… fire really freaks me out.

88 – your greatest wish? i just want everyone to be able to enjoy life.

89 – who would you put before everyone else? my family

93 – nicknames? my family calls me lu, lulu and lucie-lu. my friends mostly just call me lucie though.

94 – favorite season? spring all the way. i get really depressed in the winter, summer is too hot and humid and fall is nice but i can never fully enjoy it bc i know winter comes next. also spring is so fun, with all the plants and baby animals and such.

95 – favorite app on your phone? the ones i use the most are probably instagram, tumblr and podcasts. idk what my favorite is.

96 – desktop background? i don’t own a laptop (i share one with my family), but the background is me, my mom and my sister. my phone background is a picture i took of a sunrise in pei, though.

97 – how many phone numbers do you have memorized? i counted six.

98 – favorite historical era? first half of the 20th century, followed closely by the victorian era.

thank you!

(weird asks that say a lot)

#asked and answered #long post #love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie

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torialeysha · 5 years

Text

Something beginning with M - Part 1

A/N - This is a pre-cold feet story that I’ve had to separate in to two parts because according to tumblr it was too long. This story is set before the events of cold feet and my other drabbles so don’t worry if you haven’t read any of that series yet, you should still be able to enjoy this ❤️

Warnings: Swearing/fluff

Song: Notion - Tash Sultana

It was a blistering hot August morning. A stifling humidity drifted along the hazy streets of North West London and invaded the airless cluttered box that was your uncles shop. You had barely been working an hour and already your dress clung needfully to your sticky, sweat soaked body. Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to pull your hair up in to a messy bun; the tiniest of movements were proving strenuous in this weather and even breathing had become burdensome.

Dabbing at your clammy neck and forehead with your apron you took another deep breath of dusty air before kneeling down to finish stacking the shelves behind the counter. A minute or two had passed when the loud jingle jangle of the bell attached to the door cut through the silence and alerted you of a customer. But you didn’t need the bell to inform you of this particular customer; the awareness that prickled across your skin already told you who it was.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Solomons?” Your Uncles strained greeting was a silly question as he already knew what brought the notorious Alfie Solomons to his little treasure on the corner of Hartland Street.

“Where is she, Frank? Where is my sweet Yahalom?”

You smile gleefully as Alfie’s jovial voice rumbled through the tiny shop and rippled over your body.

Hurriedly finishing your task, you shove the remaining tins sloppily on to the shelves before releasing your hair from the bun and letting it fall in a cascade of unruly waves.

A tumbling clatter accompanied you as you sprung up from the counter; the tins you had half-heartedly stacked and balanced, toppled from the rackety wooden shelves and hit the floor with a ceremonious clunk. You tried your best to bashfully mask your shoddy workmanship by kicking the rebellious tins against the counter while casting an apologetic smile at your uncle who just sighed and shook his head in exasperation.

“There she is..”

You quickly turn your attention to Alfie who was shamelessly staring at you.

His hair was dishevelled and messy; a devilish look only a man as ruggedly handsome as Alfie Solomons could pull off. He was dressed down in a white and pale blue pin stripe shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off his burly forearms and gold laden wrists. The crumpled shirt was tucked slackly in his black trousers complete with braces that hung idly by his thighs. His informal and unkempt appearance was a pleasure to behold and gave you a rare and welcomed view of his broad body which was usually hidden beneath a waistcoat or jacket.

Your greedy, wandering eyes landed on his and you became instantly lost in the sultry stare of his darkening blue orbs.

Your heart fluttered wildly as the heat of his fixated gaze betrayed his cool demeanour and sent your own temperature into scorching heights.

“Hello Alfie. You’re early today. Is everything okay?” You utter breathlessly.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Pet.” He gives you a slight, reassuring smile. “But, I need you to come with me. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

A rush of excitement caused your face to split into a silly grin. However, your Uncles tense posture and disapproving frown halted your enthusiasm.

Your Uncle had made it very clear from the beginning that he didn’t approve of your courtship with Alfie or his regular visits to his shop. And you knew that Alfies spontaneous suggestion and impetuous attitude would do no more than further fan the flames of your Uncles disfavour.

“I-I’d really love to, Alfie. But I’m working. I can’t just leave my Uncle in the lurch.” You explain regretfully.

Alfie raises an eyebrow. Slowly turning to assess the customer-less shop. You watch him, carefully avoiding your Uncles gaze while biting back a smile.

Alfies eyes fall back on you bemused.

“Well, you’re not exactly rushed off your feet, are ya. What do ya say, Frank? You wouldn’t mind if I whisk your Niece away for a little while, would ya? I mean keeping ‘er locked up in this sweatbox all day is fucking criminal.” Alfies disconcerted frown moves from Frank to you.

“Not a chance-“ Your Uncle begins to protest but is cut off when Alfies threatening gaze jerks back to him. “-Of you staying.” He has an instantaneous change of heart, folding like a deck chair under Alfies deadly glare.

“See, you have his blessing.” Alfie turns to you with a cocky shrug. “Come.” He holds out his hand signalling for you to join him but still

you hesitate.

“Go on then!” Your Uncle snaps irritably. And you can see the desperation in his eyes for Alfie and his intimidating presence to just be gone from his shop.

Not wasting another minute you remove your apron and swiftly make your way around the counter to Alfie. Thanking your Uncle and promising to make it up to him.

Taking Alfies hand, you relish the feverish feeling of his skin on yours as he escorts you outside to his waiting car.

“Where are we going?” You ask eagerly.

“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be a fucking surprise would it? Now, come on. Jump in before I change my mind.” He opens the car door and you climb in, sliding over to make room for him next to you.

“Hello Daniel.” You greet Alfie’s driver and notice a basket and blanket nestled on the passenger seat next to him.

“Morning Miss.” He replies. Nodding his head in polite acknowledgement.

Alfie settles in next to you. Taking your hand, he brings it to his luscious mouth to graze a soft kiss across your knuckles. The tickle of his wiry facial hair against your skin sends your pulse racing and you begin to wonder what his beard covered lips would feel like against other places of your body.

You had been courting Alfie for a while now and your feelings for him were growing stronger by the day. Just being in his presence alone stirred up an unquenchable desire deep within you and often left an intense aching in places you had never allowed anyone to venture.

The obnoxious sound of Daniel pumping the horn at a loitering driver brought you back down to Earth. You flush at the scandalous direction of your musings, squirming against the hard leather of the seat to rid your loins of the inappropriate throbbing while Daniel skilfully overtook the inconsiderate driver and pulled out into the rush hour traffic.

You were too busy enjoying Alfies company to be sure how long you had been travelling for but you had guessed about an hour or so. He still hadn’t told you where he was taking you and every time you passed a road sign he would craftily distract you with a joke or a touch.

“It’s my turn now, innit...” You were currently in the middle of a tense game of I spy.

“I spy with my fucking eye...” He squints, carefully observing his surroundings as you smirk at his ability to squeeze profanity into the most innocent of situations.

“...Something beginning with M.” His studying gaze lands on you and your heart skips a beat.

pursing your lips thoughtfully. The soft purring of the cars engine inspires you.

“Motor.”

“Nope. Not even close.” He shakes his head, looking coyly out of his window. Sneakily you try and follow his line of sight for a clue but see nothing beginning with that consonant.

“D’ya give up?” Alfie asks with a smug grin.

“No.” You say defiantly. “I’m just warming up.” You inspect inside the car, on yourself, on Alfie - but that wasn’t a good idea. His handsomeness was a distraction and for a brief moment you had forgotten entirely what you were searching for. Remembering the task at hand and your determination to win, you come to your senses and eventually resort to poking your head to the front of the car to check Daniel, momentarily distracting him from the road.

“Man!” You exclaim with utmost certainty.

“Give over, Pet.” Alfie scoffs. “That ain’t no fucking man... Anyway, that’s still not it.”

With a frustrated huff you slump back into the backseat, looking out to the open road beyond the windscreen. That’s when you see it. The Kent coast sprawled out in all its glory. The reflection of the sun bouncing off the sea like a thousand glittering diamonds.

“Margate.” You gasp.

“Well done.” Alfie commends you. You tear your gaze away from the sparkling sea to look at him. You were only telling him the day before about your family outings to Margate and how you hadn’t been back there since your Father had died. You were shocked to learn that Alfie had never been.

“I’ve brought you to Margate for the day, Yahalom. That okay with you?” He regards you warily, trying to gauge your reaction.

“It’s more than okay...” Your voice was timid, betraying your excitement that was tainted with an underlying apprehension. Margate held a special place in your heart and you were concerned that being back there would bring back memories of your father and the awful feelings of loss that unfortunately came along with them. Never the less you couldn’t discount your gratitude to Alfie and his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Alfie. You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” You knew how busy he was and that him being away from the bakery all day would be bad for business.

“Trouble?! You’ve done nothing but cause me fucking trouble since that day you threw a bucket of water over me.” You knew he was only jesting about the accidental mishap but you couldn’t help but cringe at the memory of how you had first met.

“... Anyway, I could do with a little break myself. And well, when you were telling me about all those memories with your dad, right, it got me thinking that me and you could make some memories of our own.” Your heart leapt from your chest, erasing that ghastly apprehension about returning to Margate completely. It amazed you how someone as feared and hard-boiled as Alfie Solomons could also be such a sweetheart.

Margate was like a home from home for you. It had been a while since your last visit but as you explored the sea front with Alfie, it was obvious that the charming seaside town hadn’t lost it’s magic.

The beach and pier were thriving. Heaving with swarms of couples and families; Parents with a bouncing brood of ice cream covered children all having fun and frolicking on the sand in the beautiful sunny weather. Your eyes fell to the crashing waves and the exact spot where your father had taught you how to swim. You could still hear his voice now.

“That’s it, Y/N. Just keep going.” He’d encourage you proudly as you thrashed your arms and legs, fighting with the water until you finally got it right.

“Y/N?” Alfies gruff voice brought you back to the present. “You alright?”

You smile at him, blinking away the sting of tears.

“...I’m all left actually.” You joke, unwilling to put a dampener on the day before it had even started.

“You cheeky mare.” Alfie admonishes you lightly with a tap to your bottom. Your smile

Broadens as you lean into him.

“Come. Let’s keep going.” You tell Alfie. Your Father’s words resonating through you as you left the ghosts of the past behind and continued along the promenade.

A cheerful tune accompanied by a noisy clamour of exuberant squeals of delight and laughter caught your attention as it drifted from ‘Dreamland’ Which was Margate’s very own hall by the sea and provided an array of entertainment and attractions for people of all ages.

From formal tea rooms to an abundance of thrilling fairground rides, concert halls and stunning gardens that boasted towering bush mazed pathways, which if followed correctly would lead you to a zoo that housed a variety of exotic animals for it’s fascinated visitors to observe.

It was aptly named, for Margate’s hall by the sea was indeed the land of dreams.

With your hand nestled securely in Alfies, you pulled him through the ardent crowd that swarmed entrance.

Bypassing the sweet, alluring aromas of the over-occupied tearooms you headed towards the chaos of the bustling fair that was animated with a host of gyrating rides and exhilarating screams of excitement. You were just about to ask Alfie if he wanted to go on the wooden rollercoaster with you, when he began to complain of a pain in his back.

You raised a skeptical brow at him but it didn’t really bother you, the heat was too intense to withstand the queues that stretched as far as the eye could see, and in all honesty you couldn’t actually imagine a man of Alfies stature whizzing around on the tumble bug anyway. So you decided to let him off, but not without teasing him about his very sudden, very convenient case of sciatica first.

After you had poked your fun at Alfies expense, you swapped the fairground flurry for a romantic stroll through the heavenly scented gardens that were much less rowdy and crowded.

Carefully and without managing to get lost, you lead the way through the labyrinth of dense green bushes, following the increasing volume of the chirping and chattering animals until you finally reached the zoo.

It was quite clear to see that the lure of the zoo was no match for the fair; the tree laden pathways were surprisingly empty and horde free.

You gasped in awe as the first cage you stumbled across was home to Wallace the untameable Lion. You admired the impressive beast through the bars as it lounged listlessly on a bed of hay. But you wasn’t fooled by it’s blithe pose, you could see the wild danger hiding in the precarious glint of its Amber eyes. A tottering look you had seen somewhere before...

“He reminds me of you.” You tell Alfie, who was busy observing you rather than the majestic beast.

“What are you trying to say, Yahalom? That I’m a pussy?” He feigns offence. Giving you the same threatening glare he graced your uncle with earlier.

“Well, you did cop out of those rides earlier...” You quip. His eyes to narrow further to fully emphasise his most terrifying ‘watch it’ scowl.

You flash him a sweet, suasive smile before explaining.

“Lions are strong, powerful and proud creatures. Beautiful but dangerous...I’m not sure you’re very tameable either. Might have to think about getting you a cage.” You eye the bulky iron structure that separated the huge cat from it’s freedom.

“Dangerous?” He tests the word. And You’re surprised that he’s singled that one out from the others.

“Yes.” You confirm matter of factly. You knew Alfie was dangerous. You could feel it. It was a palpable energy that shrouded him like an invisible cloak. To most, Alfie was just a callous criminal, fierce and unapproachable. You had heard many things about the ‘monstrous’ Alfie Solomon’s - most of which after you had made his acquaintance, and many told by your mother in vain attempts to deter you from seeing him. But you saw through the inconsistencies of each story as they differed from person to person and brushed off the gossip mongers. You didn’t need to hear idle talk when you could see first hand the demons that lurked behind Alfies ever changing irises.

“You’re not scared of me are ya, Pet?” He asks you seriously.

“No.” You answer without hesitation, certain Alfie would never do anything to purposely hurt you. But it made you wonder after hearing all the stories about your villainous Beau and seeing grown men cower at the mere mention of his name, if you was the only one who wasn’t scared of him. Maybe you was the only one who got to see Alfies softer side? You certainly hoped so.

“We’ve never really had that talk, ‘ave we? About who I am. What I do for a living.” He flexes his jaw, stroking his beard tentatively as he does so.

“No.” You look down at your feet, feeling an awkward tension building. “But I’m not silly.” Your eyes raise from the floor to his. A worried frown governed his features and made your chest ache. “Other than the rum...” You whispered vigilantly, aware of your public surroundings. “...I don’t know the ins and outs of your business, Alfie. And I don’t need to know. I just care about you - the man behind the ‘Baker’.” You wink at him. His unsound eyes search your face but before he can answer, your attention is stolen by a loud incessantly barking seal.

Leaving Wallace the Lion and the uncomfortable conversation behind, you go to the rowdy sea pup, tugging Alfie with you.

“Now this one ‘ere, right...” He settles behind you. The vibration of his deep voice inches from your ear causing a blanket of goosebumps to cover your skin.

“...Bares a striking resemblance to Ollie. Looks just like him, dunnit. All that’s missing is that curly mop of his. Don’t stop fucking moaning like him either.” The seal stops its loud bark to growl at Alfie.

“Don’t give me no backchat, lad. Do you know who I am? Fucking dangerous me. Untameable, according to ‘er.” Alfies head dips in your direction and the seal looks to you as your head falls back on Alfies chest with a chuckle. “And you can keep ya beady little peepers off her as well, mate, yeah, she’s mine.” The petulant pup growls again causing you to laugh even harder. Bored with Alfie’s stupidity, the seal - now affectionately named Ollie, gives one last whining bark before waddling off and plunging sulkily into the murky blue pool of its enclosure.

“That’s it, bugger off.” Alfie tells it.

“Bye Ollie.” You bid the Seal a fond farewell. Turning, you link your arm with Alfies and continue on to the next enclosure.

“We’ve just got to find an animal that looks like you now.” Alfie hums pensively.

“Watch what you say next, Mr. Solomons. Like our friend Wallace over there I can bite too.”

“Oh I believe ya, Pet...Now, where’s the monkeys?” He stops to look around.

You gasp in mock offence, giving him a hard shove that barely moves his solid structure.

“You’re going to get bitten.” You warn him.

“And I’ll probably like it. As long as you’re doing the biting that is.”

You roll your eyes at him while your mind ponders excitedly what part of Alfie you’d bite first.

You ended the day by finding a secluded part of the beach away from the busy pier and it’s patrons. Apart from the cawing seagulls, you and Alfie was the only occupants on the sandy dunes. You helped Alfie set up the blanket and picnic he had thoughtfully packed. Unable to hide a silly smile as he staked claim that this part of the beach was now yours and his.

You spoke and ate avidly before complaining to Alfie that you felt bad about Daniel who by his order had loyally and no doubt sweatily been looking after the car all day while you both enjoyed yourself.

“Surely he can join us? He’s been stuck in that car all day.”

“No.” It was a stern, cold answer from an unfazed Alfie. But it didn’t deter you as you did the next best thing and gathered up some of the leftover food to make Daniel a little picnic of his own to enjoy in the car.

Once you delivered the care package to a sweaty and grateful Daniel, you returned to a speechless Alfie who just observed you with a curious narrowed gaze. Your persistence and interest of Daniels welfare had irked Alfie, and although he’d hate to admit it, beneath his irrational jealousy was a hidden admiration of your caring heart.

You threw the last remaining scraps and crumbs to the circling gulls before finally giving in to temptation and leaving a brooding Alfie to paddle in the sea.

Your fists grasped the hem of your dress, bunching it up to your hips while your toes wiggled and sank into the soggy sand, burying your feet as the cold waves lapped relentlessly at your ankles. Closing your eyes you savoured the cool breeze and the smell of the coastal air. It was utter bliss. The only thing missing was Alfie. Turning at the waist, you look behind to search for him. He was still resting on the blanket where you had left him sulking.

Propped up on his elbows he watched you. No doubt taking full advantage of the view of your thighs that you were purposely parading just for him.

You couldn’t help but notice how lost and out of place he looked against the deserted sandy dunes of the beach. Determined to relieve the obvious tension in his rigid posture and snap him out of his strop, you saunter luringly towards him. Dropping to your knees on the soft, warm sand at his feet. He doesn’t move or speak but his turbulent eyes are big and questioning as you begin to untie the laces of his shoes and slip them from his feet along with his socks. He’s now barefoot as you carry on your mission, rolling his trouser legs up above his ankles until you couldn’t roll them any further.

You look up at him once you’re finished, almost salivating at the sight in front of you. The sea breeze attacked his unruly mass of hair and billowed his shirt firmly against his solid body. Brazenly you crawled over him, resting all of your weight on one hand as the other fiddled with the top three buttons of his shirt. He sucked in a sharp intake of breath as your fingers accidentally skimmed the soft skin and crisp hairs of his chest that lay beneath the now flapping material.

“That’s better.” You say, looking up at him. Nose to nose, the closeness disarmed you and for a minute you had forgotten how to breath. Lightheaded, you lost your balance as your body strained towards his. His hand grabbed your hip to steady you. The chaste contact only adding fuel to your fire and riddling you once again with a yearning for the man you were straddling. You desperately needed to cool down before you did something stupid.

“Come and paddle with me.” You request breathlessly.

“Gimme a kiss and I’ll think about it.” His playful negotiation told you that he had indeed snapped out of his grump.

“You can have a kiss...” You counter, smiling mischievously. “...But you’ll have you catch me first.” Quickly you clamber off of him and run away.

“Right!” You hear him exclaim as he gets to his feet to make chase. You scream in delight as he stomps the sand after you.

Trying to be clever, you change direction and head towards the sea but the moistened sand only slowed your efforts of getting away. He was in-front of you now, grinning like the cat that got the cream. You moved to the right and he mirrored your movement.

“There’s no escape, Yahalom. You’re mine now.”

A cunning smile graced your lips as you pounced misleadingly to the right before darting around him on the left. You had barely made it two feet before you were bound in his strong arms. You let out a giggling scream, trying to squirm unsuccessfully from his capturing clutches.

“Gotcha.” He shouts triumphantly. Spinning you so that you now faced him.

“Now you better gimme that kiss or I’m going to throw you in.” He gestures towards the sea next to you.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You test him.

“Na? Wouldn’t I? I’m untameable remember. You really shouldn’t underestimate what I’m capable of, Sweetie.” He gives you a toothy grin. His eyes bright with that familiar precarious glint.

“I’m not scared of you, Solomons. I think you’re all talk.” You raise your chin primly to him.

“Right. Well, there’s only one thing for it then, in’t there.” He lifts you with ease towards the rhythmic pulsing waves of the sea.

You scream. Clinging to him as if your life depended on it but it was no use, a clashing wave hit you hard, splashing up your bodies and soaking both of you from the waist down. You gasped as the cold water took your breath away.

“Okay! Okay.” You shout through a chattering laugh. “I surrender. You win.” You wrap your legs around his waist and seal your mouth over his, tasting the salty beads of the sea on his dry lips. He groans in approval, his arms grasping you tightly to his brawny body. The cold waves still collided wilfully against you both but you no longer cared.

“You should have known better than to run from me, Pet. I’ll always catch ya.” Alfie says through kisses.

You pull away beaming at him. But your smile soon fades as you catch sight of the hazy sun lowering in the sky.

“Oi, what’s that frown about?” He asks.

“It’s going to sound silly but I just don’t want this day to end.” You grumble dismally. Turning your attention from the setting sun to rest your forehead against Alfies.

“This is far from the end my sweet.” He strokes your back gently. His voice rumbling through his chest to yours. “This ‘ere, yeah, is just the beginning for you and me. There’s plenty more good times to be had.”

Your heart aches for the hundredth time that day and you knew in that moment without a shadow of a doubt that you loved him. You wanted so badly to tell him, to sing the revelation from the rooftops. But out of fear of your feelings not being reciprocated the words refused to come out.

Hoping to make the day last as long as possible you insisted on staying to watch the sunset which meant by the time you had packed up to leave Margate, the sky was rapidly darkening.

A huge yawn racked your weary frame as you snuggled into Alfie in the backseat of the car. The drive back to North West London was spent in a relaxed, comfortable silence. However, the longer you drove and the closer you got to home the more melancholy you became knowing that the day was that little bit closer to being over.

The thought was sobering so you cuddled further into Alfie. Instinctively his arm tightened around you, happily accommodating your need to be just that little bit closer. You distantly register the gentle kiss he placed upon your head while you tried desperately to fight the closing of your tired eyes...

Part 2

@storm-bjorn @alsheyra @lililolli @jaegers-and-kaijus @lightwoodt @stars-trash-18 @innerpaperexpertcloud @alitheamateur @pointlessbloger99 @hardygal69 @valentine-in-my-quinjet @namelesslosers

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy #peaky blinders imagine #tom hardy imagine

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frighthouseofalighthouse · 5 years

Note

All weird asks!! They're so good!

Sorry this is a bit late, babe! I wanted to wait til I had the opportunity to answer all these uninterrupted!

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs! tbh I drink tea out of coffee mugs because who actually uses teacups? I mean my grandma has tons and I would use them, but the handles are so tiny and I am v clumsy so it scares me.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars!!! I’m too impatient for lollipops and plus they always get coated in saliva which just...drips down my chin since my mouth is already full.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubblegum! I love cotton candy but I can only handle a bit at a time tbh. Also I haven’t had bubblegum in almost two years bc of braces and I miss it so much I can’t wait to have it again.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Okay, so even though I’ve always been homeschooled, when I was in elementary school we did this program with a ton of other homeschoolers where you could take actual classes and stuff. My teachers always said I was quiet and focused and studious, and you could always count on me to be lecturing everyone else on the instructions if they hadn’t been paying attention. (does any of that surprise anyone?)

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? GLASS SODA BOTTLES. nothing beats soda that’s been bottled in glass rather than plastic. You ever had orange cream soda from a glass bottle????? SLAPS ASS MY DUDE.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Pastel/boho/preppy/goth, my dude. I have so many sides to my fashion and aesthetic.

7. earbuds or headphones?

EARBUDS BC HEADPHONES NEVER FIT OVER MY EARS RIGHT. BUT EARBUDS WITH SOFT TIPS BECAUSE MY EARS ARE TOO SMALL FOR THE PLASTIC ONES.

8. movies or tv shows?

Tv shows tbh because even though I can binge 4 eps of 45 minutes each per night, they’ll hold my attention a lot more than a movie. It’s weird.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Thunderstorms/petrichor, also natural bogs. PEAT BOG SMELL FUCKING SLAPS.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

None. I liked trampoline time back when we took gymnastics, if that counts. I also liked jump roping and Irish step dancing.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Nothing lmao. I sleep til like noon and then I microwave something for lunch.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

My catchall playlist, Things I Love, my summer playlist, Summer Songs, my Gryffindor playlist, My Queen And Country playlist for writing, and my playlist for The Raven Cycle. (after I post this I’ll edit it and link them)

13. lanyard or key ring?

Keyring, a lanyard would like constantly detract from my outfit if that makes sense???

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Sour Patch Kids or Swedish Fish.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

Between The Grapes Of Wrath, The Great Gatsby, The Handmaid’s Tale, and To Kill A Mockingbird!

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Just fucking sprawled every which way.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

My grey converse if it’s comfortable out, my silver flip flops if it’s hot, and my fur-lined black combat boots if it’s cold.

18. ideal weather?

65-70 degrees, partly sunny, breezy, not humid.

19. sleeping position?

I need to sprawl to fall asleep, but once I’m asleep I curl up into a little ball.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop and notebook ONLY IF I’m sure of myself, which isn’t often. But I do write dense, scribbled paragraphs on sermon note pages if something comes to me during church lmao.

21. obsession from childhood?

The American Revolution, weather, astronomy, and mysteries/ghost stories.

22. role model?

Idk tbh? Lately I’m just trying to define and live up to my own standards?

23. strange habits?

Pulling the collar of my shirt up to my mouth and sucking on it. Also being a perfectionist in my writing. I don’t do messy drafts. It’s all perfect by the time I write it, and I edit/spellcheck as I go.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst (my birthstone), bismuth, opal, and blue goldstone.

25. first song you remember hearing?

Other than nursery rhymes/kid’s songs, it was Light Up The Sky by The Afters, or California Dreamin’ by The Mamas And The Papas.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Find shade/a cool spot and read with a cold drink.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

ALSO READ. And snuggle with thick socks and a cup of tea and play DS games all day.

28. five songs to describe you?

My five faves atm -

I Am Here // Pink

The Pines // Roses and Revolutions

Soldier, Poet, King // The Oh Hellos

Traveler’s Song // Aviators

Hymn // Kesha

29. best way to bond with you?

Share my interests about politics, history, books, true crime, paranormal, tv shows, and also be kind and understanding when I don’t text for long periods bc I don’t feel up to talking.

30. places that you find sacred?

The woods on the hill behind my house. Dense, deeply green, secluded woods. Hedge mazes. Old and crumbling castles. Anywhere beneath a clear sky and a full moon. Your heart when you’ve come to terms with your fears and made peace with yourself. Anyplace with historical significance. Bookstores on an autumn/winter day. Libraries.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

A kickass plaid, bruh. Also my leather jacket - once I lose enough shoulder weight to fit in it again.

32. top five favorite vines?

Fre shavoc ado, the one where the dog eats the butterfly, the Lin-Manuel Miranda one where he’s brainstorming, “what the FUCK kind of weather is this, and the dad and son with the saxophone and the oven door.

33. most used phrase in your phone?

“oh mood”

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

“WOW! It’s NatureStone!”

35. average time you fall asleep?

Right now it’s 4-5 am because I suck.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I Can Haz Cheezburger, My mom used to look at the website with me when I was like 10.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

They both have pros and cons. :/ Duffel bags are easier to carry but suitcases keep stuff from getting broken better.

38. lemonade or tea?

TEAAAAAAAAAAAA

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Lemon meringue pie!!! my stepdad made a really good one the other week.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Nothing, since I was homeschooled. Same weird shit that always happens at home. Our safe word for when I got overwhelmed in math was “quokka” and we’d stop and look at cute quokka pictures.

41. last person you texted?

My gf :)

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets because things are not only hard to fit in girls’ pants pockets, but if you put a chapstick/lipstick in there it starts to melt :(

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

BETWEEN HOODIE AND CARDIGAN. SO VERSATILE. SO COMFY.

44. favorite scent for soap?

Irish Spring soap or the blue Dial bars smells better and cleaner than anything to me.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy. It can take me a bit to get into it, but once I do, I love it. I only do sci-fi if it has rebellion and isn’t heavy on the sci. And superhero movies are great but a lot of the tropes are meh. Fantasy has a lot more versatility if you ask me.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Sweatpants/leggings and a soft, well worn tee.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Parmesan, white cheddar, or Muenster.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Raspberry!

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“do no harm but take no shit.”

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

A really poorly edited political ad on tv a couple years ago. There was weird jazz playing, flames in the background of an image of the Capitol Building, and then the top of the dome opened and this guy’s face was inside. It is the single funniest ad I have ever seen and I laughed for 10 minutes so hard I was like an inch away from passing out.

51. current stresses?

Passing my driving test next month, getting a job, figuring out if my math skills are okay enough to take the SAT or an equivalent test.

52. favorite font?

Baskerville or Georgia!

53. what is the current state of your hands?

My fingernails are short bc I picked them while reading earlier, my cuticles suck bc I pick at those two, and my pinky is obliterated and scabbed because of when I accidentally sliced through the nail with a razor while shaving the other day. So, not great, but I’m living.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

That kids can be really annoying but also really cute and hilarious if you can get them to calm down. And also that baby fingernails are surprisingly sharp.

55. favorite fairy tale?

The OG Princess and the Frog where it’s implied the prince and “faithful Henry,’ his carriage driver, fall in love and ride off together at the end. JACOB AND WILHELM GRIMM SAID GAY RIGHTS.

56. favorite tradition?

Every December, my mom and I drive around after dark at night and I play Pokemon and we rate everyone’s Christmas decorations based on tackiness.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

So isolated I was as a preteen/early teenager, my self harm, and the internalized anger over my abusive relationship and PTSD.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Writing, puzzle solving, singing, and calligraphy.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“Benvoli-no.” (I recently remembered I used to say that a lot and I need to bring it back)

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Dark, fairy tale anime with a lot of secrets to uncover and some dark woods.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

TV show - “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who

Movie - “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman

Book - “If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.” - The Dream Thieves, by Maggie Stiefvater

62. seven characters you relate to?

Dean Winchester - Supernatural

Sam Winchester - Supernatural

Jack Kline Winchester - Supernatural

Charlie Bradbury - Supernatural

Gansey - The Raven Cycle

Blue Sargent - The Raven Cycle

Hermione Granger - Harry Potter

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Final Song // MO

Call Home // Heathers

I Am Here // Pink

Babylon // 5 Seconds of Summer

Shake It Off // Taylor Swift

64. favorite website from your childhood?

WEBKINZ AND THE OLD AMERICAN GIRL WEBSITE

65. any permanent scars?

Yes, I have several that remain from self harm, scars all over my left knee from being a clumsy child, and most of all a major scar down the center of my chest from heart surgery when I was a baby.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Rose, lavender, lilac, and dahlia.

67. good luck charms?

Not really???

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Olives, mushrooms, radishes, cottage cheese, and ranch dressing are all foul.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Martin Luther didn’t actually nail his 95 theses to the church door, he just kind of passed them around, which is a lot less dramatic tbh. Also light-up signs were first used in New York City in 1884.

70. left or right handed?

I’m left-handed!

71. least favorite pattern?

I think zebra stripes, leopard print, and houndstooth are super ugly.

72. worst subject?

Math for sure. Even science would be easier if it didn’t involve so much math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty!!!

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

I think a 7, usually. My pain tolerance is pretty high because of a) years of self harm, and b) due to my PTSD my muscles are constantly tense and in pain anyway.

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I was 4, and it had been loose but it fell out when I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Fries or roasted potatoes that are charred and crunchy on the bottom. Chips are a close third.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Idk, my grandma’s the one with the green thumb mania lmao. But She keeps a lot of violets and arrowhead plants in the windowsills!

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

NEITHER I HATE BOTH COFFEE AND SUSHI IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Never had a school ID, but my temporary license photo is actually pretty good right now!

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I really like earth tones for myself.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

THEY ARE THE SAME MF THING. Also I call them both, it just depends on what comes out of my mouth haha.

82. pc or console?

PC, I guess, though I don’t really game. I just watch my stepdad game.

83. writing or drawing?

WRITING. I cannot draw to save my life.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts, talk radio is so annoying.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie, although I loved both.

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology I guess??? Although again, I love both.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

COOKIESSSSS

87. your greatest fear?

Rejection, losing people I love, people secretly hating me. Also drowning, spiders, clowns, and guns.

88. your greatest wish?

To be a semi-successful author and work in a library/museum.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom and my gf.

90. luckiest mistake?

Almost dropping a knife blade first on my foot but it landed between my toes.

91. boxes or bags?

um boxes I guess? I’m really good at fitting things in tetris style.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

FAIRY LIGHTS AND DIM YELLOW LAMPS.

93. nicknames?

Ell, Alexander, Ellie, Little Lion, and Nerd.

94. favorite season?

FALL FALL FALL FALL

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr or Spotify. Two apps I couldn’t live without.

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

About a half dozen. Mine, my mom’s, my stepdad’s, my grandparents’ home number, my grandpa’s, and my grandma’s.

98. favorite historical era?

Both the American Revolutionary period and the Victorian Era (esp in Britain)

THANK YOU LOVE THIS WAS SUPER FUN

#a series of essays anonymously published

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dreadhaus-literature · 5 years

Text

{Headcanon} Butcher Boys

I~ love Leatherface. I doubt that’s a surprise to anyone at this point, but what may be a surprise is--well actually I don’t have a good segue from that point to the point that I want to write about him, today. I’ve been obsessing over him again, so I wanted to talk about him because he doesn’t get talked about enough.

Anyone could likely guess that’s why I started paying attention to him in the first place. Boy stirs up my Mama Bear like nobody’s business for lots of reasons.

Now, I should mention I sort of split things up a bit differently than what is considered “canon” in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre universe--there’s actually two Leatherfaces: Bubba Sawyer, and Thomas Hewitt. In my head, when it’s just me and my embarrassing thoughts, I merge the two together because it’s easier, but in terms of roaming about the Haus, Bubba and Thomas are both here. Why, you ask?

Because twice is nice, and two adorable Leatherfaces are better than one, why are you asking me stupid questions.

I’m planning on doing dual headcanons so I can talk about the difference and similarity between the two boys, and really just allow me to gush about them because I need to. I’m going to be writing them with the ‘you’ perspective being a random member of the Haus wanting to read more about Leatherface; I’m not sure how Moni feels about the boys (they absolutely adore her already, but I told them they have to wait until I get the all-clear) so I won’t throw her onto their laps...

...yet...

L E A T H E R F A C E The Texas Butcher

First things first, we need to talk about the physical differences between Bubba Sawyer and Thomas Hewitt, because it’s one of the easiest ways to tell them apart, and that way you’ll know who I’m talking about when I refer to them by name for the rest of the headcanons.

And just, you know, because staring at them is nice. ♥

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba’s a big boi

He’s doughier than Thomas is

Round belly and thick thighs, this Texas Cinnamon Roll is A+ for cuddles

Bubba runs hot (boy’s practically a furnace 24/7) but doesn’t seem to notice the heat

0/10 affected by the cold

Don’t let the squishy boy fool you, though; he hauls meat for a living and he does heft a full-sized chainsaw around every single day

There’s fat, but it’s just insulating muscle

Bubba’s got biceps to make any man jealous, and those thighs may jiggle when he walks but they’re tree trunks that have to support his towering frame on top of the bodies meat he hauls day in and day out

If you’re worried about Bubba’s physique being a hindrance, don’t

Bubba’s hair is shorter than Thomas’s, but that’s mostly because it’s curly

Thick, bouncy, unruly dark brown curls that he doesn’t do a thing with

Seriously, someone needs to wash this boy’s hair, I promise it’s worth it; he’ll giggle and try to sit still, but he’ll bounce a little, excited just because you’re paying him attention

Bubba wears a full face mask, always made of someone else’s face/skin, held together by thick leather twine that he ties at the back fo his head

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is another Biggun

Thomas appears taller than Bubba, but that’s because Bubba is wider

Thomas would argue he has more muscle than Bubba, but there’s really no way of telling; this argument is touted mostly just because Thomas’s muscle is easier to see

Another round belly boi, though Thomas’s chest is broader and his gut is smaller than Bubba’s

Arms, arms, arms

Thomas’s forearms are the stuff wet dreams are made of; thick and veiny, because he’s another butcher who spends his days hauling meat and victims back and forth

Legs like tree trunks, a back broad enough to sleep on, and since Thomas is heavier-handed than Bubba is, his fists really carry the appearance of sledgehammers

Thomas has the power and desire to back that up

Thomas’s hair is longer than Bubba’s and it’s straight--except during humid weather, when it gets a little wavy

His hair is black, not dark brown, but just as thick as Bubba’s

Like Bubba, Thomas doesn’t give two shits about his hair and you’ll need to wash it for him if you want it done

And he does want you to do it, because that means you’ll be close to him

Thomas wears a partial face mask, that has to always at least cover his deformed nose, jaw, and chin. Unlike Bubba, Thomas will wear regular leather, and since it isn’t a full face mask, it doesn’t have facial features, simply an open slit for his mouth

What makes them both Leatherface:

Both Thomas and Bubba suffer from facial scarring and disfigurement due to a degenerative disease and self-mutilation

Bubba’s scarring is more pronounced, as his disease is more aggressive and he’s more prone to self-mutilation than Thomas

This is due to two reasons; one, Bubba is an abuse victim with horrific self-esteem issues, and two, he’s a masochist who enjoys the sensation of pain

Both men suffer from heavy disfigurement in their noses, which leaves their noses all but gone--

Bubba is easily the shier of the two when it comes to his face; he wears a full face mask vs Thomas’s half-mask, and he will not be seen without it if he’s not around someone he loves and trusts

Thomas also wears his mask faithfully around the Family, but he seems to exude a different aura than Bubba so one might assume he isn’t as shy--don’t let the Big Guy fool you. If you’re not one of the two people he loves and trusts, any attempts to take his mask off will result in aggression

Growling, squaring his broad shoulders, and glaring as he pushes your hand away from his masked face

Bubba will just blubber and whine, and duck his head out of your grasp until you stop

Any attempts to remove either of their masks from anyone outside of the Family will get the motorized end of the saw

Personality

Bubba is the teddy bear of the two; he’s squishy, cuddly, and eager to please. Because he’s been abused the majority of his life that’s led to a Pleasing Complex, where he is constantly, desperately searching for acceptance and to know he’s done a good job

Thomas comes from a family that was more supportive and he doesn’t have Bubba’s pleasing complex as a result, but that doesn’t diminish Thomas’s need to provide for the Family and ensure he’s doing his part

Thomas is more the quiet protector or enforcer out of the two; he observes, he’s defensive and overprotective of what’s his, and he is dangerously unforgiving

Loyalty and Family are both incredibly important to both men, and neither one will hesitate when it comes to killing to protect or defend anyone who calls the Haus home

Because of the abuse in Bubba’s past, he is quick to over-correct bad behavior and will overcompensate to correct even the slightest mistake

Both Thomas and Bubba share an incredibly strong work ethic, which has been ingrained in them by their original families for years and years

Both men are mute as a result of their degenerative disease

This has led to incorrect assumptions that either or both men are slow or retarded; there’s been no proof of this.

Bubba cannot read as his family never tried to teach him (as they themselves treated him as though he was retarded) and Thomas never put much stock into school (he didn’t/couldn’t attend due to his disfigurement) but he is able to read simple words and sentences

Bubba can recognize his own name when it’s printed

Thomas knows ASL but most aren’t aware as he doesn’t usually sign back--this is by choice, by the way, not because he can’t

Despite not being able to speak, Bubba is a noisy boi

Giggles, sighs, inquisitive noises, moans--Bubba likes to express himself and will do so in any way he can

Thomas is the quieter of the two, as Bubba prefers to babble like a toddler, expressive even though he can’t actually speak

Some mistakenly believe Thomas can’t make noise but that isn’t true. His noises are deeper than Bubba’s, and he prefers grunts and groans to giggles and soft sighs

Bubba is not afraid of expressing emotion

Thomas is more reserved about the showing of emotion, but if he is shown emotion he will reciprocate immediately

Bubba answers to any variation of his name, but sadly he will also respond to any negative names people call him due to his family taking to call him “Retard” when he was growing up

Do not call Thomas anything negative if you like your head where it is

In fact, just call Thomas by his name; no nicknames outside of Tommy, just to be safe

Both men answer to Leatherface

Quirks / Traits

Both Thomas and Bubba prefer chainsaws over any other weapon of choice and it’s become something of a security blanket for them both, as it’s a way for them to defend themselves and the Family

While he’s working, Bubba prefers hammers and butcher knives

Thomas prefers meat cleavers or his bare hands

Bubba is an excellent cook

Seriously, let this boy cook for you and you’ll have a belly to match his in no time; he’s been responsible for cooking for the Sawyers for years and it shows. He knows his way around any and all cuts of meat, and if you praise him a single time over his cooking he’ll be trying to feed you constantly

Thomas knows how to cook, but he prefers to prepare the meals and leave the actual cooking to Bubba or someone else. It’s not that he’s against cooking, it’s just he’d rather do the hacking and slashing. He likes his hands dirty

That is also where the boys differ

Bubba was raised to believe it’s Family against the world, and was taught to murder through abuse and thus was never actually taught it was wrong. Any attempts to tell Bubba that killing people is wrong will be met with confused puppy head tilts and blubbering to the contrary

It can’t be wrong if it’s for the Family!

As a result, Bubba is fiercely protective of the Family and the Famlly property, and he’s a saw first, ask questions never kind of guy

Be patient with him, he doesn’t know any better and he thinks that’s how it’s supposed to be

Thomas, on the other hand, knows better. He was raised to understand right from wrong and he knows that, on some level, killing and cannibalizing people is “wrong” in the eyes of the law

But the law is wrong

Thomas won’t care if you try to change his mind about that; he likes the way people taste and he doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t Family, so you may be wasting your time trying to convince him otherwise

Besides, Thomas is a butcher, and he slaughters farm animals all day. There’s no way that’s right but killing people is wrong. He’s a simple man but he’s not stupid

Bubba does not leave the Haus properties; he has a wide array of masks but all of them are made of human flesh and he can’t exactly leave the safety of the Haus properties wearing someone else’s face

Thomas will leave the Haus properties; he might get weird stares wearing his half-masks but he’s a hulking behemoth anyway, so he’d be stared at regardless

Bubba enjoys classical music, especially when he’s working

He knows he’s hideous (why do you think he hides behind someone else’s face?) but the music is so pretty it makes him think of pretty things, like flowers and sunshine, and for a little while he can forget his own face while he sits and listens

Thomas prefers bluegrass or rock

He needs something loud, and he likes that some of the songs he can relate to on a more emotional level. Music can help him express himself as he can’t speak, and he likes the way it feels

Bubba only likes cold drinks; sweet teas, sodas, milk!!!, and beer

Thomas is fine with anything; he will drink black coffee, and he prefers darker ales when he’s drinking beer

Affection

Both boys are absolutely touch-starved and crave affection, so there’s never a worry anything is considered “too clingy” for them

Bubba is unused to positive touch at all, so he’s going to be over the moon with the smallest gesture

A pat on the head? He’s cooing

A hug? Hope you don’t have anywhere to be as he’s not letting go

A kiss on the cheek? You’re not crying, he is

Bubba will openly seek out and ask for affection, and he’ll be clingy even when he shouldn’t be, as the boy isn’t afraid of being hit or pushed away

Unlike some abuse survivors, Bubba isn’t discouraged by anger or shows of aggression, so even if you try to push him away, he’ll shuffle to the side and then immediately try again

You’ll have to forgive him; he’s touch-starved and in desperate need of some TLC, preferably 24/7

Thomas doesn’t come from an abusive background (per se) but he also was never really given affection so he’s just as touch-starved as Bubba is

Thomas won’t seek out affection like Bubba, but he’ll make it clear that’s exactly what he wants

Oh, you were putting your hand there? Well, his just happened to be there before yours

Were you going this way? That’s nice, so was he, and you won’t mind if he walks close to you, right?

You’re going to bed? He’s already in bed waiting for you, you’re the little spoon, good night

Thomas is always the Big Spoon; that’s just his preference as he prefers to curl his body around yours, one arm beneath your head, his other arm curled completely around your middle, and he’ll sleep with his cheek against yours

Thomas sleeps between you and the door always, because he’s distrusting and overprotective, which makes for an overbearing combination so i hope you don’t mind being smothered and also never out of this man’s sight just in general

Thomas is a wall of muscle and he’s pretty intimidating up close, especially since he can’t speak...and he likes to stare at you until he falls asleep

You’re just...the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and he’s a man who has known a lot of ugly in his life. You can’t blame him for wanting to appreciate beauty now that he finally has it

I hope you used the bathroom before you got in bed, because Thomas’s grip is like iron. You’re not getting up without him

Bubba will switch between the Big and little spoon; depending on how his day went or what mood he’s in when it’s time for bed

When he’s the Big spoon, he prefers to sleep with you facing him, but given Bubba’s a big boi he’s plenty tall enough to bury his face in your hair, his arm around your lower back and the other around the middle of your back, keeping you locked to him all night

Remember when I said Bubba’s a furnace? This boy generates heat

You really won’t need any covers with him, but he likes snuggling under them with you anyway

Please don’t try to leave him in the middle of the night; if he wakes up without you, he will panic, and he will be a blubbering mess by the time you come back to bed--it doesn’t matter if it’s just to go to the bathroom, wake him up to tell him because the fear of losing you terrifies him

If Bubba’s the little spoon, he still prefers to sleep facing you, so anytime he opens his eyes you’re the first thing he sees. He sleeps with his head buried in your chest, his arms cinched tight around your middle

Other sleep arrangements include--

Sleeping on Thomas’s chest

Bubba half-crushing you by insisting he sleeps on top of you (especially if you are prone to getting out of bed without telling him)

Being wedged between both bois, trapped with zero hope of moving until both of them are awake and ready to let you go for the day

NSFW

You don’t need me to tell you, do you?

Everything is bigger in Texas

You don’t need to worry about any disappointments in the bedroom when it comes to the Sawyer boys, because the downstairs matches everything else

Girth, length--it’s all designed to leave you shaky, sore, and pregnant

Bubba’s cock has more girth, but Thomas has him beat in length

Bubba will stretch your walls to the point of discomfort and he won’t know any better, because he’ll be too busy burying his face in your neck to stifle the needy, wanton cries he’s making because you’re so tight

Thomas will knock your bottom out and he’ll take your scream to mean it’s good, he’s good, keep going--and he will, because he can’t stop now that he’s finally, fully inside you

Bubba, despite being raised on a farm, has very limited sexual experience. He’d seen his uncle’s magazines that had been stashed under the bed when he was living back home, but he didn’t understand what he was looking at

But what Bubba lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in eagerness

This boy is a pleaser in every sense of the word, and you’re going to have a fight on your hands if you’re wanting to please him for once, because he can’t keep his hands, his lips, his body off of yours long enough to understand there’s things you can do to him

Thomas has a little more experience than Bubba; he was also raised on a farm, but he paid more attention to the animals and he knows what breeding looks like

And trust and believe, Thomas will breed you

You’ll barely be able to get ahold of the edge of the mattress to steady yourself on your hands and knees before Thomas is drilling you into it, perhaps misunderstanding that the deeper he is, the more likely you are to be pregnant

You’ll have to forgive him, he’s just so needy...

Bubba is a S/switch, but he’s predominantly a submissive

Bubba’s kinks include praise, humiliation (abuse has unfortunately warped his masochistic tendencies into thinking this is love), S&M, littlespace (Bubba is both a little and a Daddy, depending on the situation/day) edging/orgasm denial, incest (Bubba comes from a close Family), forced feeding (you’ll be on the receiving end of this, every time), lactation, roleplaying (he’s got a wildly overactive imagination, so he’s extremely good at this), marking, necrophilia, and cannibalism

Bubba will pretend that he doesn’t like when you fight him, but he’s spent his whole life chasing down victims; he gets a thrill from the chase and the capture, so if you run from him, he will chase you down

If you don’t expressly tell him not to, he will chase you down with his chainsaw

But don’t worry, he won’t hurt you with it! He’ll just make you sit right on top of it’s vibrating handle until you’re a shaking, sticky mess, terrified of the spinning blade and trusting the iron grip around your middle not to let you slip and be split right in half

After-care is hugely important for Bubba even after normal sex, especially if he had his mask off during

Kisses, cuddles, letting him hold you as tightly or as closely as he wants, taking baths together, eating together--it doesn’t matter what you do, just be there with the Big Guy and he’ll be happy

He just needs you

Thomas is a Dom. Full-stop, he does not submit and he will expect you to, eventually

Thomas’s kinks include DD/lg (Thomas is a strict but caring Daddy Dom), edging/orgasm denial, S&M (Thomas is both a sadist and a masochist), forced feeding (again, this one is entirely you), breeding/forced impregnation, rape, necrophilia, marking, cannibalism, pet play (Thomas has a thing for collars and leashes) and bondage

Bubba doesn’t exactly like you in his workspace (it’s dangerous! What if you get hurt?!) but Thomas likes you down there--but on his terms. You’ll either be strung up on a meat hook (hung by a rope, not impaled--unless you tell him you want to be) with your feet barely touching the ground, so he can touch/fuck you as he likes while he works, or you’ll be lying in a pet bed beside his workbench so he can drop onto his haunches and feed you scraps through the day

Like Bubba, Thomas enjoys chasing you down, and even if you tell him not to...he may still chase you with his chainsaw. He’s pretty attached to the fucking thing, and he likes how wet you get when you’re scared

Thomas loves when you fight him, so go right ahead

Thomas takes aftercare seriously, and please don’t forget that he’ll need some of that, too. Thomas is a Dom but he’s also a man with a broken soul, so he’s going to need you to stay close to him, to stroke his hair or let him brush yours, to take baths together or let him slowly come down by marking you as much as he wants. It makes him feel better, to know you’re his

No matter the situation, the boys will have rules for you, and they do expect you to follow them

Bubba’s rules include do not talk to strangers, no leaving the Haus property without telling him, do not eat without him, do not go to bed without him, do not get out of bed without him, and no going into his workspace without him

Thomas’s rules include no talking to strangers, no leaving the Haus without him, do not go to bed without him, do not get out of bed without him, do not leave his sight if you are not with the Family, do not cover up his marks

Punishments for rule-breaking generally means a spanking, and both boys have hands calloused and large enough to count as a paddle, so you’re really not missing out on anything since they don’t use toys

Bubba prefers to bend you over his lap, but Thomas will bend you over any surface or even force you against a wall

If you continue to break the rules, the punishments will escalate to orgasm denial, branding (yes, that kind of branding), being tied to the bed/restrained, forced orgasms, and even forced impregnation

The boys will never punish you in a way that separates you; neither of them could stand the separation

Bubba doesn’t actually like punishing you (well...maybe he does, a little) but Thomas is entirely fine if you want to challenge the both of them left and right. They’ve both got a heavy hand--

But you knew that, by now, didn’t you?

#{theme} : headcanons #{character} : thomas hewitt #{character} : bubba sawyer #{ this turned into a goddamn character study }#{ but...it was nice to write }#{ i could talk about them for hourssss }#{ if nothing else it was good practice for learning/studying other characters later }

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a-writing-bear · 6 years

Text

[AmeriPan - Summer Thunderstorms]

This is a Request fic written for @mochimochas !

Note: Thank you so much for the request, I;’ve got a huge heart for AmeriPan so this was a delight to write!

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723681

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Pairing: America and Japan

Word Count: 2,695

Age Rating/Mature: All Audiences :)

Prompt: “Ciao! I just dropped by to say I LOVE your writing, and was wondering if I could maybe request an AmeriPan summer story? Maybe stuck in a thunder-storm? ^^" Grazie! (Sorry for my English... ^^; )”

It seemed as if mother nature would not relent with the sunshine this year, and although Alfred was used to Californian summers and Arizona’s hellish heat waves, he had become somewhat sick of the rising temperatures. Even in Japan, the weather seemed to mock him- global warming at its worst he supposed. Although a pleasant upside to the whole situation, He figured, was seeing the usually professional Kiku drabbed in shorts and a thin T-shirt; it was amusing if not for Kiku’s deadpan yet sweaty face (He’d seen the man in his home sweats, but this outfit was completely different). Luckily his reddened cheeks after such a sight could be attributed to the weather and not to any sort of inappropriate attraction; God he was cute. He himself could feel the sweat creeping down his neck as he sat on the step of Kiku’s summer home; the blond had long abandoned his leather jacket for a comfier tank top and some khaki cargo shorts. Both had laughed about the lack of formalities at this point but what could you expect? Their need for diplomatic formalities was over hours ago and as of this weekend, they weren’t America and Japan- they were Alfred and Kiku. Distracting himself he fixed his eyes on the blooming flowers of blues instead. Purple petals had also flooded the long tall grass of the Japanese countryside- much to Kiku’s delight of course, however, a recent drought made the flowers droop a little. Alfred had noticed his friend’s strong inclination to the plant life and admired the Japanese man’s garden, including the patch of familiar buds of hydrangeas (or ajisai as it was known in Japanese). He wondered if sunflowers grew in Japan just like the ones found in Texas.

In actuality, Alfred had flown over on duty to check up on some old naval bases and Kiku had obliged with keen companionship, eager to offer a trip to some cultural sites and the summer countryside. Alfred had made this diplomatic visit into a short vacation of sorts (His bosses wanted to give him a break for a few days, something that was well deserved if Alfred said so himself). They found themselves in one of Kiku’s summer homes, in a small village surrounded by the calming countryside. The kind of village that hosted all it’s community meetings in a local coffee shop, where everyone knew everyone else, and where only one train came in and went out; literal countryside isolation, It reminded Alfred of the first few years when he had met Japan. It was nothing compared to the hubbub central of Tokyo, or the busybody streets of New York and for the 2 nations, it was a perfect break from paperwork and constant global duties. As he contemplated in the hot summer haze, Kiku was pumping water from his traditional pump (Kiku had insisted it was traditional, not old) into some bottles for the both of them.

“Are we going somewhere?” taking the bottle Kiku had pushed into his arms, the American got up, dusting off and stretching.

“A walk, I wish to get some watermelon.” the smaller man yawned a bit, bending down to touch his toes as he too stretched his muscles. Thank god they had young bodies for their old souls. The American pouted, it was hot and although they both took naps earlier he was still feeling lazy and could do with another short slumber. However, at the mention of some fresh watermelon Alfred had perked up and with his typical energetic demeanor and had already started charging ahead. After a few steps, he had turned to let Kiku catch up with his leisurely pace, finding a rather cute accessory on top of Japan’s heat attracting black hair: a straw hat that was slightly crooked. Alfred could only imagine seeing Kiku like this during summer as if this relaxed personality of him would only be visible during months where the man was enjoying sunny skies, alone and undisturbed like the nature around them. He had known Japan for a while, a longer time than some of the other nations, and he wondered if Kiku ever dressed like that when he was with the other guys. It was adorable. It was enjoyable to know the usually more reserved man felt comfortable enough around him, even if it was just because of such balmy weather.

When they arrived at a homemade stall beside the road, a tiny old lady had greeted Kiku with a huge hug- which startled Kiku a bit and had made him a bit embarrassed in front of America- according to Keeks, he had known the woman since she was very young, a child. This was one of the only towns where the occupants and residents knew of his immortal nature; it was hard to avoid not letting them know considering he had lived here for hundreds of years. Alfred lamented at how he wouldn’t be able to do that in his home country, even in big states and generic towns he had to find the most isolated locations to build a house so not to disturb the locals. Politely they paid for an uncut watermelon, despite the lady offering it for free, and made their way to a nearby stream to ‘cool it down’. The two had barely walked 10 minutes enjoying the idle conversation of everyday pleasantries when Kiku stopped, looked around before looking up at the sky. With one hand holding the bag with the fruit, and the other up to his face, he squinted at the sudden large clouds, feeling a breeze hit his back.

As if speaking to himself Kiku murmured: “It’s...it’s going to rain.”

“No, it's not dude! It’s way hot right now, there’s no-” Just as the words left the Americans mouth, Kiku had held his free hand out and no doubt a single raindrop hit his palm.

“We should find a place to shelter Alfred-san”

“It’s just one raindrop! so what?!” It was typical for a nation to feel their own weather patterns before they occurred but as of today, it seemed impossible for it to rain it had been so dry and- Oh.

Suddenly a strong breeze proved him wrong and the air seemed to cool down as the rain began to fall, kissing the ground and the greenery that had been deprived of water over the drought week. It was a quick turn of weather, and still, the sun shone through the rain creating a strange combination of hot humidity. This would not last for long though as thunderclouds rolled in, at least that’s what Kiku had said as the two had pounced ahead trying to run along the road back to the household. Alfred naturally with his athleticism had been further ahead, he figured that would also due to the fact he didn't need to carry anything, so as he turned around to check up on the fast footsteps behind him he noticed through the darkening skies and from the strong winds that Kiku’s straw hat had been blown of as they were preoccupied. He stopped confusing his friend as he raced back quickly to retrieve the non-essential item, shit he wished they had brought an umbrella.

“I don’t need it! Come on we need to go America..” Alfred had already caught back up to the black haired nation, smiling as if it was not such a big deal. Alfred wasn’t going to admit he liked the hat on Kiku, so instead, he just shrugged and the two continued their retreat. The rain had only gotten stronger and by then it had become really dark; a stark difference to the blistering sunshine from earlier in the afternoon. Soaked and slippery with the rain Kiku noted there was a nearby gazebo they could sit at to wait out the rain and before he could even point and yell out the directions Alfred had grabbed his hand and already started rushing, following his directions.

The two staggered under the cover, drenched in a summer-storm-in-the-making. Back bent forward and hair ruffled like a dog, Alfred tried to get rid of the water and fix his shirt that had clung to his chest. Looking back up he saw Kiku wringing the water through the corner of his shirt, and just as he was about to comment gladly about how cool it would be, a loud boom of thunder made him jump. Kiku himself sighed as the rain fell heavier, the pitter-pattering on the clay roof tiles of the temporary shelter vocalizing the incoming storm very loudly. Always the optimist, Alfred settled onto the stone bench the gazebo had and patted the space next to him, inviting Kiku to relax a little bit.

“I apologize America, I didn’t feel the storm coming earlier, we may be here a while considering it has not showered in this region for quite some time this month.” The Japanese man sighed a little, feeling bad he had subjected such an important guest to running in puddles and storm clouds. Alfred instead only laughed and said he should just be glad the drought would be fixed for a bit, and so the two sat breathing in the comforting smell of wet dirt. The two were seated close, shoulders touching and although neither acknowledged this out loud they both figured it was okay- This was one of the times Kiku didn’t care much for his personal space... not that Alfred would care about personal space, to begin with . Within a few moments, thunder had come, opening up the skies and was accompanied with posturing lightning which seemed to dance violently in the distance. Both focused on the sound of the rain hitting the ground and found themselves snuggled up, huddled together in such a way reserved for the quiet nights that they didn’t usually talk about.

Their relationship, like most of the relationships between the personifications, was incredibly complicated. Well, in theory, it was simple: the two were good allies. they’re past still held grudges but with such good trade and close partnership in the modern century, it was easier to work past those bad memories. Besides, allied or not the two enjoyed each other’s company. There were nights after those long UN conferences where the two would meet up for drinks, mostly as a group, sometimes just a pair and perhaps ending up in one of their hotel rooms; where hurried footsteps fled through the door at sunrise the next morning with nothing except silent agreement to not take note of it in front of the others. They decided a while ago to forgo speaking of their crumpled shirts and crooked ties whenever it happened. In the world of international relations for personifications like them, such interactions were just another form of… strengthening partnerships as they say.

Alfred soured. Whenever he shared those nights with Kiku he was always the one to watch the other sneak out, and he wasn’t going to lie to himself; he hated waking up and feeling that heat of the bed disappear. Kiku was- Kiku and he was something else and most of the time their shared conversations where more than just business. It was immature to hold a crush- fuck it. he admits it has been a long-standing crush. Like, come on! Alfred was over 200 years old! hell, Kiku was much older despite their young faces... schoolyard crushes were idiotic when you’re immortal. There’s no escape if you like a fellow nation, unlike humans, they stick around and that meant the regret or the rejection sticks around. It became such a mess to try and keep relationships personal when you are literally a representation of thousands of civilians. Nations were fickle. And yet, despite all of this he harbored such strong feelings for the shorter man, the man who had at some point rested his head on his shoulder.

He had been so lost in thought again that Kiku had fallen asleep, obviously enjoying the colder air so much he had fallen subject to slumber. The fruit had been left on his side and America chuckled at the fact the rush to eat it was stalled because of such sudden weather. Conjuring such a pitiful excuse that Kiku might get the flu from the cold, he wrapped his arm and pulled his friend(?) closer. The rain was dying down but the thunder and lightning were still performing strong. America saw himself as the thunder, the loud pounding noise that fueled the fear and the fury whereas Japan was the lightning- the one to be silent yet deadly, present, beautiful, fierce and forceful when needed. Smoothing his palm into Kiku he gently shook his company’s body a bit, waking him up with such a doe-like expression.

“Yo Keeks, I think the rains gonna be gone soon. Wake up man” the two gazed at each other, as if only just noticing their compromising position; faces close enough to feel warm breaths and feel the heat radiating off each other's red cheeks. Alfred cursed in his head- he can’t blame his blush on hot weather anymore.

“Yeah. Hold on.” They sat still, leaning forward inching closer unprompted. Alfred couldn’t stop looking at his face, almost as if he was hypnotized by those dark brown eyes that seemed just as lost as him.

“Kiku, uh...Thanks for letting me stay” the words came out slow as the two soaked in each other’s closeness. God he missed being this close, he missed seeing Japan so calm, he loathed having every other nation take up his time, he hated how Japan didn’t visit often anymore. He brought his hand up to Kiku’s face, which in turn made Kiku shuffle bit, either uncomfortable or surprised by the gesture. Alfred hoped it was the latter.

“You should have visited during autumn. Or fall as you call it Alfred-San.” Was Kiku dodging his advances? He couldn't have, seeing as the two were still only inches apart, maybe Japan was- warm lips met him in such a quick soft manner, Alfred wasn’t even sure it even happened, maybe he had jumped to conclusions in his head. His doubt soon melted though as Kiku had bowed his head into the crook of Alfred’s shoulder as if defeat and sheepish shyness. Before the smaller man moved apart to apologize for such rude actions Alfred had pulled him in for another kiss, nothing that developed further but something that was confident and had the taste of longing. They never kissed except behind doors or in the privacy of each other's homes but at that moment they seemed to forget to care- there weren’t any other nations to act around or bosses to be wary of, professionalism had been left ages ago. The two embraced a bit longer before pulling away, only just realizing the sky was clearing up and that the thunder had become silent in its song.

“Forget the diplomacy Keeks. I- we should do this more often, just hanging out...I would enjoy it.”

Japan only smiled lowly to himself, as if thinking about it even though his hand had already sneaked its way into Alfred’s. He nodded, not one to talk about it too loudly, even in things like romance he was quite undemonstrative if not aloof. The older nation knew to maintain their relationship, while difficult and would be regarded as a ‘big deal’, would prove to be worth the bright smiles on the younger nation’s face. He could hold on longer, what a few thousand years compared to a few hundred... or a few seconds?, what mattered was when they were together- immortal or not, they were Alfred and Kiku . With that peace in mind, both stood up, hands still knitted together and made their way back to the summer home.

America decided that the report he would send back to his bosses later that afternoon, would not only be a notice that he would be gone for a bit longer... but also an update that any more relations with the country of Japan, at this moment, were at the best they could be.

#aph japan #aph america #ameripan #hetalia axis powers #hetalia fanfics #hetalia fanfiction #prompt fic #fanfic #oneshots #request #america x japan

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fluffyasra · 5 years

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Apprentice Questionnaire!

I figured, what better way to introduce my MC (and myself, and this blog) than by filling this out?!

What is their full name? Elit Aroha Wingate

Zodiac sign: Aquarius (her birthday is February 14th)

In detail describe how they look: She is fairly short in stature, and a little chubby. She has long rosy blonde hair that falls in big, loose waves. She has a smattering of light freckles across her nose and cheeks, with a few light ones on her shoulders. Her eyes are a dark green and she has long, dark lashes. She has a small, straight nose, and ears that are ever so slightly larger than average, which she is very self conscious about. Although she is very soft, she has surprisingly small, bony wrists, and small hands and feet.

How old are they? 21 years old

What clothes to they like to wear? She usually wears a loose white blouse that sits off her shoulders, and burgundy harem pants. She likes anything that’s comfortable and makes her look mysterious. She doesn’t like to show off her figure, although when she does she often gets complimented on her hourglass figure.

What’s their favorite piece of clothing? A pink square scarf made of silk that she was given as a gift, although she can’t remember who gave it to her. She likes to use it to tie back her hair.

Any piercings? Only two in her ear lobes. She’s afraid of the pain of other piercings.

Do they have any other jewelry they wear? She has a rose quartz necklace, on a long leather thong. She also has a gold ring with a small heart-shaped ruby, and a matching bracelet, that she wears all the time.

Any tattoos? No. She admires them on other people, but doesn’t have any of her own.

How old are they? -//-

What do they smell like? She smells like jasmine, neroli, mandarins and Asra’s smoky tea.

What are their four trinkets? A small opal, her ruby ring, an elegant but chipped tea cup, and her pink slipper.

GOVERNMENT MANDATED FERSONA A cat

What kind of magic are they good at? She is very creative and enjoys magic that reflects this. However, she can also be studious when necessary, and is able to quickly master even complex spells, as she is a fast learner.

What kind of magic are they bad at? She has never been good at any kind of offensive magic, as she is too afraid of harming anyone around her to practice.

Of the four, six or seven magical elements which are they most connected to? Four: fire,air water earth. six: fire,air,water, wood,earth, metal. Seven:fire, air, water, wood, earth, metal, aither. Elit loves to be around water, which is reflected in her magic. She loves swimming, rainy weather, baths...anything that means she can be around water.

What does their gateway look like prior to their memory loss? What does it look like afterwards? Prior to her memory loss, it’s lots of pink and gold tones. It looks like a sunset over a lake. Fluffy clouds, shimmering sunlight. Afterwards, it’s the same place, but all the colours have faded. There’s a silvery haze over the whole scene now.

Do they have a familiar? If they do. What type of animal is it? What is it’s name? Is it still around after they lost their memory? She used to have a black cat named Bella (like Belladonna) but can’t remember her any more. Bella still hangs around, checking up on Elit, but Elit doesn’t realise the connection at the moment.

Have they ever cursed someone? No! She could never. She can hold a grudge though.

How do they handle those headaches/migraines? Sleep and tea are her ultimate remedy for everything. A huge cup of tea, and getting tucked up in her quilt are her favourite way to cope.

What tarot card do they connect the most with? Strength. She shines most through patience and compassion.

Where were they born? She was born in a busy coastal town with a big focus on fishing. Her family moved to Vesuvia for a lifestyle change, to move to what they perceived to be a higher class area.

What is their favorite color? Pink!

What is their least favorite color? Orange

Are they right handed, left handed or ambidextrous? Right handed

What were they like as a child? Elit was quietly curious, and very shy. She spent a lot of her time playing alone, or roping her parents into her games. She enjoyed exploring the beach in her hometown, and playing ‘house’. She did well at school and loved to read, but had few friends.

What were their parents like? Her mother was kind and gentle, but also exuberant and outgoing. She had many friends, and loved to entertain, hosting them for meals on a regular basis. She owned a tea house, which fit her personality well. She was friendly with most of her regular customers, and always had time to chat with them. Elit’s father was more serious and quiet, but still had a good, kind heart. He worked long hours as a book keeper for the bank in town.

Do they have any siblings? If the answer is yes how many? No, Elit’s mother was very ill when she was pregnant and was advised not to risk a second child.

Do they have any other relatives they are close with? Elit used to be close with her cousins in her hometown, but didn’t really keep in touch when they moved, and now doesn’t remember them anyway.

What are they afraid of? She is terribly afraid of spiders and of losing Asra, as he is the only person close to her.

What do they identify as? Female

Do they have any allergies? No.

Do they have any other medical problems? No. Elit is physically fairly healthy.

What about mental health issues? She struggles with anxiety, but has been working on improving her coping techniques and strategies.

What’s that personal hygiene regimen like? Elit loves to bathe, and is always very clean.

Favorite rock or gemstone? Rose quartz, as it symbolises love to her.

Favorite tree? Jacaranda. She loves the flowers.

Favorite type of weather? Rain!

Least favorite type of weather? Hot and humid.

What is their favorite season? She loves autumn, as the temperature is cool, and it rains often.

How many languages could they speak before the memory loss? How many do they currently speak? Before her memory loss, Elit could speak a local dialect of her hometown, but no longer remembers, so can only speak one.

Do they sing or play any instruments? Elit loves to sing. She isn’t great, but definitely isn’t terrible either. She can play the harp.

What do they tend to joke about? Most of her jokes are quite self-deprecating.

After a stressful day how do they relax? With a bath with lots of oils, a huge mug of hot tea, and spending time alone. She loves being around Asra, but needs time to herself to relax.

Guilty pleasures? She secretly loves going to the marketplace, buying a whole loaf of fresh white bread, and eating it all while watching the shows people often put on for the children.

idiosyncrasies? She will only drink out of mugs, never glassware. Elit is very sentimental, and keeps every card and letter she receives. She will find one thing that she loves to eat, and eat nothing else for a couple of weeks.

How do they act when they first meet someone new? How quickly do they warm up to them? Elit is very shy, and hates meeting new people. However, she has become quite good at putting on a front and acting friendly. It takes her a while to warm to someone, and is easily put off them.

In what order would they prioritize Love, fame, money, power, and knowledge? Love, knowledge, money, power, fame.

List four or more things they love to do: Elit loves swimming, baking, singing, reading, learning new magic and visiting new and exciting places with Asra.

List four or more things they hate to do: She hates doing the dusting, and is attempting to formulate a spell to do this for her. She also hates being in large social situations, running and having to ask shop assistants for help.

List five or more things they have said that sum up who they are: “You big dummy!” “Yikes” “I love this song, it’s sooOOoOoOoooOO romantic!” “Excuse me, sir, but that is MY spot and nobody else can sit there.” “No, thank you.”

How do they react to (both verbal and physical) conflict? Elit is very passive, and avoids conflict wherever possible. If she finds herself in a situation, she is most likely to back down and let the other person win.

What kind of bad habits to they have? She is very messy, and is forever leaving her belongings lying around. She is also often inclined to be quite judgemental of others.

What kind of character faults do they have? She is absent minded and forgetful, which often leads to her having to start over on tasks, due to her losing focus halfway through. She can also occasionally come across as being very blunt, as she gets nervous and ends up just saying exactly what she means.

What’s their best trait in their opinion? Physically, she likes her hands. Personality wise, she likes the way she looks after those she cares for.

What do they think of their appearance? Most of the time, she is fairly indifferent. She doesn’t think she’s anything special, but also doesn’t hate the way she looks. Although, she is often hung up about her weight.

How do they interact with people in a position of authority? Elit is very respectful, having grown up with such a serious father. She prefers speaking to people in these positions as there is a formula to follow when she talks, and she doesn’t have to think on her feet too much.

Who did they look up to as a kid? She always wanted to be like her mum, confident and well loved. She also admired the hardworking fishermen in her town, and respected their dedication.

How do they interact with kids? She doesn’t like babies and toddlers much, but loves children! She will happily join their games, and her imagination is almost as wild as theirs.

Do they want kids of their own someday? She would love nothing more than to have her own family.

Are they religious? If so what god/goddess or gods/goddesses do they worship? Elit doesn’t follow any one religion, but likes to draw principles of kindness and respect from different areas.

What do they think the meaning of life is? To love, and be loved.

What would they want their last words to be? To tell her family how much she loves them.

What do they want to do before they die? So many things! She wants to see more of the world, learn as much about magic as she possibly can, reconnect with relatives and fall in love (properly).

What/how do they want to be remembered for after they die? For being sunshine in human form.

How do they express affection? In every way possible! Elit is very affectionate with those she truly cares about. She loves to give presents, and the people especially close to her are fortunate to receive her hugs.

What do they normally eat for breakfast? She doesn’t often eat breakfast, but she loves pancakes. She would usually just have a cup of tea.

Do they like spicy food? Yes!

Favorite fruit and/or vegetable? Her favourite fruits are tropical ones like pineapples, melons, and mangoes. She much prefers vegetables though, and particularly like courgettes.

Do they like sweets? Elit has a huge sweet tooth.

Do they drink alcohol? If they do, what do they act like when they’re drunk? She does drink, but not all that often. She is a huge flirt and overly affectionate when she’s drunk, which has got her into some awkward situations!

How do they take their tea/coffee? Her tea is always clean, no milk or sugar, but on the rare occasion she has coffee, she likes it with lots of frothed up milk.

What food would they refuse to eat? She can’t stand eggplant.

Is there anything they eat that most people would find unappealing? Elit loves most seafood, and really likes mushrooms.

When going on the road what food could they not live without? Bread!

What meal gives them a sense of nostalgia? Baked fish is something her mum often made. Fragrant with lemon and fresh herbs, the smell evokes a nostalgic feeling inside her that she cannot currently place.

What do they do when no one’s around? She loves to sing and dance like crazy to get out any excess energy. She is also quite partial to a snoop through Asra’s things.

How would they react if a prized possession got stolen? She would cry, and enlist the help of everyone she could to get it back.

What’s the first thing they would buy if they won the lottery? A private bathhouse.

What would their favorite modern invention be? Tumblr! She would enjoy the connection with likeminded people without having to physically meet them.

In a new unfamiliar place what do they do? Explore! Elit loves new places. She would, however, prefer Asra to be by her side though.

Someone just threatened them what do they do? Try to calm and soothe the person. She doesn’t do conflict, so would try to avoid the situation.

A rather well rich looking woman just dropped her purse and didn’t notice. What do they do? Return it (and secretly hope for a reward!).

What’s the worst thing someone has said to them? That she doesn’t deserve her happiness.

What is the strangest thing they’ve ever come across? Asra has loads of...interesting things in his possession that she’s found while snooping, But she can never ask about them, because then he’ll know she was snooping.

Someone just stole food from them what do they do? Let them, and not say anything, but inside be annoyed.

They meet a man at a crossroads. The man says they can have everything they’ve ever wanted. What happens next? She would be curious, but her inner cynic would take over. She’d say “no thank you” and leave.

As a child what would they say they wanted to be as an adult? ie. When I grow up I’m going to _______ She would have loved to be a writer.

What’s their D&D alignment? Chaotic good.

What is the stupidest thing they’ve ever done? As a child, she almost caused a fire by trying to melt marshmallows using the heating in her bedroom.

Have they ever got in trouble with the law or been arrested? No, even if she had done anything to warrant her arrest, Elit is sneaky enough to not get caught.

Do they know how to win a fight? Probably not.

Are they good at hand to hand combat? Again, probably not. She can hold her own for a while, but would be unlikely to win.

Have they ever stolen something? When she was a kid, Elit used to steal small tokens from people and give them to her friends as gifts.

Have they ever killed someone? No!

What/who do they find disgusting? She is terribly squeamish and is disgusted by anything medical or otherwise that would trigger this.

What upsets them the most? Unrequited love. Either her own, or when her friends are pining after someone.

What anime character would they be? Nagisa from Free!

What disney character would they be? Snow White

What monster would they be? Some kind of ghoul

What mythological figure would they be? Undine

List three songs that you associate with them. Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin, broken by lovelytheband, and Take My Breath Away by Berlin.

#arcana #the arcana #the arcana game #mc #oc #my oc #the arcana mc #tag game #questionnaire #elit #mine #my post #original character #main character #thearcanagame

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chuckling-chemist · 6 years

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A Pleasant Meet

((Don’t mind me, only reposting this piece since I made some adjustments to it before I put it on Writscrib, and with Writscrib unfortunately ending well...guess this is my only platform again. As such, the original version of this has been deleted since I honestly couldn’t tell you where the edits were made and it’s a solid ~6000 words. This was originally written about 2 years ago, so if it feels like it, that’s why. Also I do apologise that the read more doesn't work on mobile app. I added the long post tag but that's all I can do))

Pallia expected a lot of things today. It was the last day of the summer festivities - the three perigees that made the weather feel unbearable even at the dead of night - so there was sure to be more drinking and partying than she particularly enjoyed. She anticipated plenty of injuries and a few fights, but not many trolls would stop by unless something life threatening happened. If that was the case, it would likely be a low or midblood stopping in, barely putting pressure on whatever wound they had or with a friend carrying them in a panic. She was used to most of them being perturbed by her habits and reputation of outlaws coming in for a spin. For all she knew, they thought she was a former outlaw herself. Which she supposed she was.

Or it would be one of the outlaws or pirates to run in, as they were far more wont to do, a knife or a broken sword piece shoved somewhere where it shouldn't be. All the pirates already knew each other and were likely aware by this point that her hive was a neutral zone. Nor were they put off by all the rumors of her being a necrophiliac or witch doctor that inevitably float around when you use dead bodies for experimentation. Word travels fast. She wasn't even sure how so many of them found out about her.

So she wasn't terribly surprised when she got two sharp knocks on her lab door and Aisral entered, thankfully making plenty of noise so Pallia was actually aware of her presence. Nor was she surprised when Aisral said Mayola, a fuchsiablood, had been in the front room for a full five minutes and had been trying to get Pallia's attention before starting to pester Aisral on Trollian. And with Aisral in the middle of making a unitard that doubled as a cloaking device, she was not happy with the interruption. So with a quick apology to Aisral, she swiftly took off her prescription goggles and replaced them with half-moon glasses to run out and see what Mayola needed. That was where the unexpected thing happened.

Mayola herself seemed fine. She was currently leaning on the wall, arms crossed and fins flared out. A scowl was evident on her face. On the table in the front room laid some sort of seadweller body, dressed in a black overcoat, though they couldn't have been comfortable. She had to figure at least a foot of them hung off the table. "Couldn' take more time, could ya short stuff?" Mayola asked irritably.

"Sorry! I had an accident recently and --"

"Yeah, yeah. Don' care," Mayola said, waving a hand dismissively. As she spoke, her fins seemed to be retracting. "Didn' come for me, anyhow." She pointed to the table.

"FLARP? Again?" Pallia asked sharply. It wouldn't be after the first time after all and as much as she liked Mayola, the troll had a tendency to forget her own strength.

"Nah, found 'em at the festival. Nearly stepped on the fucker had it not been for Eeks!" Mayola said.

Pallia nodded, all other thoughts gone, and crouched next to the body, doing a quick observation. They - no, they seemed to be he - was a gaunt violetblood swimming in a black overcoat with violet trim. Underneath the overcoat was a full suit with a violet bow tie and a rather filled looking leather messenger bag crossed his torso. His fins were large and drooping, the tops even curling downwards. Dark purple circles surrounded his eyes. Pallia gingerly took an arm that was hanging off the side of the table, rolled up the sleeve just enough to reveal a bony wrist and checked for a pulse.

"So?" Mayola asked.

"He's alive," Pallia said. "Do you know him? I can't imagine there's many seadwellers in this area."

"There ain't. Me and the princess. Oh, and Niehea? No dudes though." She shrugged. "And 's the first time I've seen 'em. Doubt the fucker's from here, else he mighta not been in such a heavyass coat." Mayola pushed herself off the wall and headed towards the door.

Pallia frowned. "Heading out?"

"'Course. Gotta reputation to hold up for bein' an asshole...and I'm needed for some fineass drinkin'," she said. With a final wave, she added, "I'm out, short stuff."

And so that left Pallia with the mystery violetblood. If she had to take a guess, he was probably dehydrated. She could hook him up to an IV, but she would have to move him to one of the side rooms, and while he couldn't be heavy, she was still only five feet tall while he was...well, taller. Nor did she want to move the IV to a room where strangers could see it. Witch doctors no one wanted to mess with, but real scientists might draw unwanted attention of a purple variety. She could theoretically feed water by pouring it, but when the patient is passed out, that could be dangerous. So logically, the easiest step at this moment was to wake him up and just grab a bottled water from the mini fridge underneath her counter space. Something that thankfully, she could easily do without arousing suspicion.

Without another thought, Pallia slowly ran a finger down the gills along his neck.

The result was immediate. The violetblood's eyes shot open and she darted towards the fridge to grab a water. She had learned from more than a few times of waking up pirates that they never took kindly to being woken up, even if it was from fainting. He didn't. He didn't even move. Had it not been for the fact Pallia had just woken him up, she probably would've assumed he wasn't awake.

Finally, as she was heading back to the table to give him the water, he slowly sat and said something Pallia couldn't decipher.

"So…how're you feeling?" Pallia asked.

"You must not have heard me. I said I feel terrible," the violetblood said, turning his head towards her. His voice sounded posh, something she didn't surprise her, but far from unfriendly, at least in her mind. Then again, after Mayola's faux-lowblood accent, anything sounded posh yet outwardly friendly. "Sorry, I must not have adjusted to how sound is on air."

She shook her head. "No, I'm sure you were fine." She crouched back next to him and handed the water. "This should help make you feel better."

"Water? This is not because I am a seadweller, is it?" He shook his head. "No, no. That sounds bad. I merely wish to assure you are not just concerned that I should return to the ocean immediately."

"Hm?" Pallia cocked her head to the side, processing what he said. "Oh no! You're dehydrated."

The violetblood blinked several times. "No, no. I am feeling perfectly alright. It was probably just another fainting spell...possibly an anxiety attack." He stopped to hold up a shaky hand to his face and gently returned it to his side. "I just need sleep, I assure you."

"Your fins are drooping and you're wearing, like four layers on a hot night. You need water," Pallia said.

"Excuse me?"

She sighed. "You don't know? Have you ever been out of the water?"

"I just fail to see how a landdweller would know such a thing when you do not even have fins. Er...no offense. Was that offensive?" The seadweller was pointedly avoiding eye contact as he spoke, seeming to find more interest in his fingers.

"You're not the first seadweller that's had this problem."

"Fainting spells?"

"Dehydration. It's pretty common with seadwellers coming up to the area, expecting it to be cold when it's really hot and humid," she said matter-of-factly.

"...Oh."

Pallia reached up to touch one of the fins again, just to push the curl up. The violetblood let out a sharp gasp and his head suddenly turned towards her. A hand went to push her own away, but she had already pulled away, face flushed.

"Don't!" he exclaimed, eyes wide and a faint tint of violet on his face. "Oh dear. Apologies, I did not mean to snap. That is just…" his voice trailed off and he looked back away from her to his fingers instead, "sensitive, so to speak. For most, anyway. And I am not above the natural law of seadwellers to be an exception to that rule."

"It is? I didn't know that," Pallia said.

"You did not? I would have suspected you did, considering what you were talking about earlier," the violetblood said.

"Nope! No mentions in any readings I've done, any seadwellers I need to wake up I touch their gills not their fins, and the only seadweller I really ever have to service normally isn't in too much harm physically. She's the one who brought you here," Pallia said.

The violetblood was silent for a while, before finally looking back up at her quizzically. "You did what to my gills?"

"Well, if you ever need to wake a seadweller up, all you need to do is touch their gills. Natural instinct, I presume, even though you have two functioning respiration systems, that since they likely started in the water they want to preserve their breathing. Landdwellers have a similar function if you try to suffocate them in their sleep. Seadwellers might have that too, but I'd rather not wake someone up by actually trying to suffocate them when I can just tap on their gills and get the exact same reaction," Pallia said brightly. "Though, normally I have to do more than what I did to you. I barely touched them and your ocu...uh, glance...wait...eyes opened!"

The violetblood absently started touching his gills. "They...they do?" he asked.

"Yeah. Did they never teach you this stuff in schoolfeeding?"

"Ah...no. I suppose it just was not extremely important at the time," he admitted. "How do you know all of this?"

"Reading!" Pallia blurted out. It wasn't a total lie, as some of it she certainly had learned by reading the documents left in the building before it was her hive. The gross anatomy...not so much. "Lot of it."

"That is it? Just reading? Odd, one would have suspected we would have come across similar works," he said. He stood up and pulled the collar on his overcoat up, successfully hiding his gills and even his extravagant fins, to some degree at least, from the side. It matched the rest of his body: looking slightly too long and out of proportion with the rest of the coat. At least I know why he's wearing that thing.

"You should probably take that off," Pallia said. "It's crazy hot out there and daylight'll break soon. You're already dehydrated."

"I...are you sure? No one will attempt to rob me of any personal belongings I may have, or attack me simply because of my caste? Or something far worse. Not to mention I do not even know where to stay and...oh dear. What if--"

"You'll be fine," Pallia interrupted. "If anyone actually tries to rob you tell them you came from the clinic and they'll back off. Trust me. And there's a temporary hivestem you can stay at. It's in the richest part of the city, right up in the front where there's normally traffic. Tall building. Don't think you can miss it. It's a pretty nice place. And drink the water. Seriously, you'll feel better." She gave him the warmest smile she could muster for a stranger.

"And if I do not find it?" he asked worriedly.

Pallia paused for a while. She couldn't let him stay here, not right now at least. Then again...it would only be fair. She'd extend the offer to an innocuous lowblood to stay at her hive for a night, at least in the main room, so she should extend it out to a highblood or seadweller. But at the same time, she didn't have any actual sopor slime nor recuperacoon for him to rest in and if he did rest here in his condition, he wouldn't get any real sleep. She saw how irritable Aisral was when she initially stopped sleeping in it before levelling out. So the smarter decision would be to send him to the temporary hivestem, at least tonight. But if he couldn't find it, he may as well have some sort of contact for the place. "Do you have Trollian?" she asked.

"Erm, yes," the violetblood said cautiously. "Why?"

"I was just going to give you my account name, and if you had any problems you could message me," she said. "You don't have to give me yours. I don't really know any violetbloods personally who'd be messaging me, anyway."

He took a small sip of water before speaking. "Are you certain?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"I simply wish to be certain, is all," he said. "You do not have to do this if you do not want to."

She shrugged and said, "It's only fair. I'd do it to anyone else." She ripped off a piece of paper that said calculatingAlchemist and handed it to the violetblood, who quickly shoved the paper into his pocket. "There you go. In case you have any trouble!" She glanced outside past the glass doors. "You should probably head out. It's getting late."

His head jerked away from her and he looked into a nearby window to see that dawn was just starting to break. "Yes, so it is. Thank you," he said with a small smile.

"No problem!" Pallia exclaimed. "And best of luck!"

***

Sure enough, Dontoc found the hotel - at least that's all he could fathom what she meant by temporary hivestem with his knowledge of landdweller slang limited to books - with almost no problem. It was an impossibly tall building with a smaller wooden edifice jutting out of the left side. Even without a sign, it had to be the hotel. It was the only building in the rich section, if not the entire city, that was nearly this tall. An impressive feat too, as he remembered several of the buildings appeared to have extra stories stacked on as an after thought. But here, it looked as if a strong wind would topple the whole building, yet it didn't so much as budge.

A hand absently went into his pocket as he walked and found the slip of paper. He felt bad for having her Trollian handle without using it, even though the more reasonable side of him gently reminded him he didn't have to use it if he didn't need to. Was she expecting a message? Even one to let her know he found it and got there safely? After all, if she said to message him if there was a problem, she would want to know if everything went smoothly. But then again, would she really care that much about some stranger dropped onto a table? He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, attempting to force the thoughts out. He would worry about that once he got past the necessary social interaction.

He walked up to the desk and gave a quiet cough. The receptionist, a male cobaltblooded troll with small horns, gave him a wide smile.

"Why hello, hello! What can I do for you?" he asked.

Dontoc froze. He looked down onto the countertop and took a long drink of water. It should buy him enough time to save face.

Finally, he choked out, "Ah...yes. I am...um...here for a room."

The troll gave him a quick onceover before nodding. "Really now? Don't get a lotta seadwellers comin' in. Where ya from?"

Dontoc opened his mouth and quickly closed it a few times, expecting a comment to looking like a useless fish that never came. He had to fight against the near automatic response of actually saying where he came from, which involved far too much explanation and socialization to a receptionist. It then dawned on him it had been at least a good seven seconds before he answered, and maybe just any answer would be good. "I uh...came from the tealblood's hive outside of this city," he said.

"The clinic?" the blueblood asked suspiciously. "You seem a little too clean cut to come from there."

"Cl...clean cut?"

"Well yeah," he said nonchalantly as he started to fill out some paperwork, "plenty of unsavories come outta there. Girl in there's weird, too. Don't trust her myself."

"Well I can assure you I am not an 'unsavory'. I just woke up there after a bit of a fall," Dontoc said.

"Ah! That's how. She probably thoughtcha were a dead body. She takes them in, ya know. Who knows what she does with 'em. Some talk about how she uses them for occult magicks or something. Did you know that's a common thing here? Fuckin' kooks." He flipped the paper over and pointed at the line at the bottom. Dontoc could only shift around slightly, thinking about the unusual book he found. "But you're alive and she don't want that so she letcha go. I'm sure. Anywho, here. Just sign at the bottom. Considering everything, I'll just give ya the room. Just make sure to tell your seadwellin' friends, alright? You're on the first floor, third door on the right. Room 133."

Dontoc nodded. Well now I have to talk to her, he thought as he signed the line. He didn't bother telling the receptionist he didn't really have any friends, let alone seadweller ones. He quietly muttered a small "thank you" as the receptionist handed him the keycard and pointed him in the right direction, and Dontoc found the room with little effort.

It was a standard room, as far as hotels go. The most impressive thing was a small bookshelf with a couple nonfiction books inside, and a laptop resting on the desk. He sat down at the desk, pulled out the slip of paper in his pocket and took another drink of water. Hopefully she was still awake, or else he might end up with another sleepless night.

He made a Trollian account back when he was still a kid in the vain hope that one of the other kids being schoolfed would at least talk to him outside of their classes. It never happened. Since then it had largely sat there, unused. Even though getting back on the website was like picking up a book even after not having read in sweeps, it still felt foreign to get on and see the red chatbox. With a quick search for "calculatingAlchemist", he managed to find her account and cautiously typed out "Hello?"

He'd never had a response so fast. Oh no, does this mean she was waiting for a response this whole time? And here I was not planning on messaging her until I needed some rather probing questions answered. Oh dear. His mouse hovered over the abscond button and he suddenly felt far too warm for the room.

No. You can do this. Deep breaths. You have already talked to her once. Perhaps too harshly, but you did. And you were hardly in a right state of mind either, but how much harder could online be? In fact, it should be easier.

algorithmicCollegiate [AC] began trolling calculatingAlchemist [CA]

AC: Hello?

CA: hey! CA: you've got to be the violetblood from earlier! CA: iss everything 0K?

Zero K? Wait no, "okay". It must be a quirk. Alongside the s. She did have a slight hiss accent, did she not?

AC: Yes, Σvery+hing Is "0K" AC: I Mαde It +o +he Ho+el Sαfely AC: Or +emporαry Hives+em As You Cαlled I+

CA: oh, awessome! :)~ CA: i antissipated a problem when i ssaw a messssage.

AC: No, No Problems +o βe Found AC: I Do Hαve Some Inquiries, However AC: +he Recep+ionis+ Seemed +o βelieve You Abuc+ed Me?

CA: he did? :o CA: wait no i think i know why. CA: what elsse did he ssay?

AC: You Were A Performer Of Mαgic, And I +ook +he Assump+ion I+ Wαs No+ Of +he Subjuggαlα+ion Vαrie+y AC: And You S+ole Deαd βodies AC: +hus Why He +hough+ I Wαs Abduc+ed

CA: yeah the lasst one'ss true CA: except for you being at my clinic becausse i thought you were dead, ssince ass I ssaid, another troll brought you in. CA: or maybe i didn't? CA: either way, i didn't drag you in becausse i thought you were dead CA: i couldn't even bring you into the proper room becausse i thought you were too tall for me to carry!

AC: Σxcuse Me?

CA: i have a valid reasson! CA: how long will you be in the area?

Dontoc stared at his screen blankly. He didn't know the answer to that question. The only reason he even left the comfortable island at all is that he realized he couldn't isolate himself forever, and from all his reading at home, Sandyhorn seemed a good place to start. So he responded the best way any absolutely confounded troll would.

AC: Whα+?

CA: i sswear i'll explain everything but i don't want to on the internet, even if trollian'ss ssuppossed to be pretty ssafe. CA: i know sseveral plassess where we can get ssomething to eat and you can meet me there or at my hive

AC: βut I Do No+ Σven Know Your Name

CA: you don't? CA: oopss! ^.^; CA: though to be fair i didn't actually antissipate talking to you again. CA: it'ss pallia. CA: sso lunch?

He hesitated. On one hand, he was genuinely curious what could possibly be going on, and he wasn't going to ever get over his anxiety unless he started socializing. But at the same time it was socializing, and in a public place no less. His curiosity won out.

AC: You Promise +o +ell Me Whα+ Is Going On?

CA: sswear on my life and my lussuss'ss life!

AC: +hen Yes, Pαlliα, I Shαll Mee+ You For Lunch +omorrow. AC: As I Am Afrαid My In+eres+s Were Piqued More +hαn I Σxpec+ed Upon A Forced Conversα+ion At A Ho+el.

CA: :D no issssues with that! CA: you know what? CA: that hivesstem you're at hass a resstaurant attached, we can jusst go there. CA: there sshould be sseating in the back and everyone'll be hungover from today sso we don't have to worry about any russh CA: ssound good?

AC: I Do Not See Why I+ Would No+

CA: fantasstic! :)~ CA: see you around twelve then violetblood!

AC: Erm, Actuαlly�� AC: My Nαme Is Don+oc AC: +hough If You Wish +o Cαll Me "Viole+blood" I Will Not S+op You

CA: no no, dontoc'ss your name CA: calling you jusst violetblood would be rude CA: anyway, ssee you around twelve then, dontoc! :)~ CA: i'll be dressssed a little more fanssy than ussual out of sspite CA: may ass well pretend to be the creepy witch

calculatingAlchemist [CA] has ceased trolling algorithmicCollegiate [AC]

calculatingAlchemist [CA] would like to add you as a chump. Accept?

He clicked yes. Maybe out of hope, maybe out of desperation, or perhaps still out of the sheer wonder of who he managed to meet purely by accident. At least this would all be cleared up by tomorrow, and he could continue learning about land life.

He would just have to mentally prep for a possibly very long lunch.

***

Pallia arrived at the hotel five minutes early, wearing a black dress that touched the ground with a candy red cape, pointy hat snuggly in between her tall horns and a pair of shoes with just enough point to give the satisfied click on the tile floor.

"This is a place for honest folks," the receptionist, the usual cobaltblood she'd seen in here a few times, sneered. "And also, generally, trolls sitting higher than teal." She couldn't help but wonder if he ever actually slept or if he lived off of coffee.

"I am honest," Pallia said. "What, is this not honest to how trolls see me?"

"You know what I mean, tealblood."

"Not really. You said it was for honest folks. I don't think I've outright lied." She frowned. "Least as far as I can remember." Sure, leading other trolls on that she was a witch wasn't exactly honest and she could admit to that, but keeping the image up kept them from asking questions, especially when the image itself came out of a combination of calling what she did "alchemy" and her calling any medication she made for trolls "potions"....among other reasons. Only seemed fair she'd take the matter into her own hands and have control over it.

"You keep bringin' in all those pirates," he said. "I know you're working for them."

She rolled her eyes. "They were here before."

He muttered something - Pallia watched his mouth move - but she couldn't quite make out exactly what. All she could make out was something involving "keeping quiet".

There was a loud cough and she whipped her head over to the source, seeing the violetblood, Dontoc, from yesterday, walking up to her.

"Erm...hello," he said nervously. "I was afraid you would not completely remember."

"Nope!" She grinned, hoping it would calm him down somewhat. "And sorry about not seeing you there. I didn't hear you."

"You knew I was trying to call your name out?"

"I took a guess," she admitted with a shrug. "So shall we be off?"

He nodded. "That does sound like a good idea, yes. May I ask what you two were arguing about?"

"I'll explain when we sit down," she said as she started to walk towards the restaurant.

"Does it have to do with the outfit?"

"A little. Like it?" His mouth opened, but no sound came out. "You can be honest. No need to sugarcoat."

He did a once over of her, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "It is ridiculous."

She beamed at him. "Perfect."

They got seated almost immediately, all the way in the back corner as requested. And just as expected, they were the only customers present. Perfect. She just had to make sure the wait staff were tipped well and anything said here should stay here. That is, if it even got that far.

Dontoc looked relieved too. He sat down in the spot actually nestled in the corner. "Thank you for being willing to meet with me tonight," he said.

"Don't worry about it! You have questions, and depending on what they are, I'll have answers. Go ahead and ask whatever you need to," she said. With a smile, she added, "You look better, by the way. Your fins aren't curled in anymore. Still a little droopy, but they'll perk up. Try applying some water directly to them and your gills. I've heard that helps."

"You know a lot about seadwellers," Dontoc commented. "At least, for being unaware of the fin sensitivity."

Pallia laughed. "Comes with the job. That also wasn't a question."

He shifted in his seat. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not. I'm just trying to be funny and not quite succeeding." Her eyes darted away from him as she did a quick scan for any server, but found none. "Though note, I'm not going to answer anything when the server's nearby."

He looked at her, puzzled for a second, then nodded. "Okay. Yes, that...that makes sense."

"Just to get that cleared up. So, what's your first question? I'm not counting your earlier one as part of this whole thing."

Dontoc cleared his throat. "Well I guess to start, ah, what exactly do you do? To know enough about seadwellers - which, ah, apologies for perhaps sounding harsh the night prior about everything, as you were correct, it seems - and yet only know a pair of them. It, well, does not quite add up is all I am saying."

Well, that was fast. Certainly, Pallia anticipated having to explain to him what she did eventually, but she wasn't ready for it to be the first question. He seemed trustworthy, at least. He had some of those standard seadweller catches: the proper speaking style, the formal state of attire for casual daywear and assumption a landdweller wouldn't know the basics of seadweller function, but he didn't sound pompous and arrogant about it like Careen, more doubtful, much like she'd anticipate from someone spending their whole life underwater and told one thing their whole lives. And now, he didn't sound doubtful of her, but rather of himself. Plus, she trusted Glacin, a purpleblood - self-admitted former subjuggalator by force, no less - obscuring his face (to everyone except her and his matesprit) actively using chucklevoodoos just to communicate. One curious seadweller with obvious socialization issues (even to her) looked far more trustworthy than him.

Hopefully she wouldn't regret this.

Pallia whipped her head around the room again to make sure everything was clear. "What did they schoolfeed you about science?" she finally asked.

Dontoc raised an eyebrow. "Science? You mean the technology and military advancement done directly under the Empress or...?" His voice trailed of, uncertain. "Well, we did talk briefly about the various mass murders of--"

"Yeah. Those." She shuddered. "I'd rather not think about that," she said flatly. With a brief shaking of her head, she added, "But did they tell you what it is exactly?"

"Erm...no. Well, yes, they did, but it did not sound correct. Were they supposed to?"

"I don't know. Lusus didn't want me to get schoolfed so I self taught myself most everything. Poor Monty would block the door just so I wouldn't go! And he might've eaten a truancy drone. Do those exist?" She shrugged. "Besides, I had enough stuff I found around my hive I managed to teach myself a lot, or had a couple others come in and help me. One of the pirates taught me a ton about plants that I didn't know, and I found out way more about computers when Aisral taught me and -- I'm getting on a tangent. Anyway, it is-"

"Hello there dears, can I get you two some drinks?" a new voice asked. Pallia jumped at the noise and turned towards the source. Hopefully she hadn't heard too much, she thought.

"Just water for me and…" she turned to Dontoc, who was currently hiding behind the menu, "him too."

The server nodded and walked off. Dontoc muttered something too quietly for Pallia to hear and she cocked her head.

"You're gonna have to speak louder. Your voice gets really quiet," she said.

"You did not have to do that. Um...thank you," he said. Pallia still had to struggle to make out the words, but thankfully it was at least quiet enough everywhere else she could do that much. Dontoc swallowed thickly and gave her a sheepish smile from overtop the menu. "So, what is it then?"

Pallia nodded. "It's studying the natural world - or unnatural world - and figuring out why stuff is the way it is, and how we can make use of that, through rigorous research, questioning and testing. And that's what I do. Several others that work with me too, but I'm really the only one who kind of works with the public. Well, me and Aisral but no one's going to try and slaughter her for "breaking the miracles" or whatever." She grimaced. "The only trolls who call us scienstiffs are those subjuggalators and anyone under them."

"So you being a witch then…?"

"I practice chemistry and biology and apply it to a lot of medical work. Two of the big three practices that is extremely regulated by the Empress. So I call what I do 'alchemy' which isn't that far off anyway, use the right jargon and suddenly word starts going around that I'm a witch. The body snatching thing probably didn't help with that," Pallia said with a shrug. "But that didn't scare you off."

Dontoc ran a hand through hair that looked like he had done that a thousand times already tonight. Maybe he had. "I have had my fair share of presumptuous judgements that I at least wanted to hear your side first. You seemed nice enough at least," he said. "Oh, and here come our drinks."

The server handed them their drinks and asked what they wanted for food. Pallia rattled off her regular - grubshrimp overtop rice in a spicy sauce with all the fixings - and Dontoc just ordered a piece of fish and a couple sides.

"They really are taking their time." Dontoc asked.

"Well, yeah. Normally with me they're longer because they normally serve cobalts and indigos coming to and fro. They're probably playing nice because you're a seadweller, while moving slow enough to try and...I dunno, either deter me from returning or deter us from eating together," she said. She scrunched her face in thought. "Maybe both?"

"Oh. Lovely," he muttered dryly, just loud enough for her to hear again. "I was hoping to escape all of that."

Pallia giggled. "You haven't been on land for very long, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"If you thought being on land would make people care less about blood caste? Yeah, kind of. You'll see it for as long as you're on land, which I guess won't be long."

"Mm. Perhaps." He shifted in his seat again, moving so he was leaning forward on the table. "I have found seadwelling life may not be for myself and am, as such, attempting life on land. Mainland."

"Oh cool!" She beamed at him. "But that's off topic. I bet you wanna know about the uh...the body thing."

His fins fluttered lightly (leaving Pallia to make a mental note that they seemed to respond to different vocal stimuli than Mayola's or Careen's) as he answered, "Yes, if you could."

"Well, unlike some others in a similar line of work to myself, I like to hold myself to an ethical standard. So I don't practice anything on unwilling live participants. Thanks to a couple rumors I'm sure were started by subjuggalators after the last massacre, there's a fun idea out there that all doctors are amoral, torturing monsters," she said bitterly. "And lowbloods - well all trolls really, I shouldn't single one set out - just leave their dead there. Which is unsanitary. So I take the bodies and either use them for science or bury them. Sometimes they get fed to Monty. Keeps them off of the streets, at least."

"For science."

"Yeah. Normally for examining anatomy, but also for seeing what they died from. I'm trying to keep a record. It's especially good for seeing which diseases are more commonly culling and what should have vaccines made of them. Vaccines which are basically things you inject to let your immune system learn how to fight off diseases, either by giving you a muted form or -- oh look at me, I'm rambling. I should move on or we'll be here all night," she said.

Dontoc shook his head emphatically. His fins looked perkier than they were even a few minutes ago. Interest? That's all she could fathom. "No, no. I actually am quite interested. I feel like I have learned more these past few days than the whole time being schoolfed." His fins shuddered as his eyes widened. "Oh my, that came across not quite as intended."

"Well, it's not like I learned all of this myself. There's a lot of old books and diagrams back at my hive. I think they're from whoever was there beforehand."

If Dontoc wasn't sitting on the edge of his chair earlier, he was now, back straight and eyes focused wholly on her. "There are? Um, I mean, interesting. I could ah, keep them safe you know. Not like take them or anything! But transcribe them and keep transcribed copies at my hive. The old mansion is already a somewhat illegal library to begin with. Extra books are not going to hurt it in the slightest."

Pallia grinned. "I think I like the sound of that," she said. "Do you live close by?"

He slumped back down in his chair. "Not exactly," he admitted. "It would be quite the trip to come here daily."

Silence. Pallia knew what she wanted to do immediately, but she had to stop and think. Make sure this wasn't the worst idea she was about to proclaim. He already knew where she lived, so if he was some sort of inquisition, it was too late already. Aisral lived with her, and connections to everyone except Glacin and Sekier were easy enough to make, fuchsia protection from Mayola be damned. And if he wanted to transcribe her notes, that was always good. Even if he took them and ran off, so long as she snatched the originals and hid them back in the secret tunnel, they'd remain safe enough. Not like she had to tell him about that part of the hive.

With her mind made up, it was her turn now to sit on the edge of her seat, leaning forward with shining eyes and steepled fingers. "You don't have to if you don't want to, you know."

"But I want to!" Dontoc exclaimed. "What you are doing sounds fascinating and --"

"No not that! Goodness no! I have two whole floors of nearly empty rooms in my hive and already one other troll living with me. So long as your lusus can survive on their own I see no reason why I can't set up a room for you," Pallia said. "And if you want, we can get you a lab too. Plenty of those as well. You'll just have to meet all the others. Aisral does textile engineering. She lives in my hive on the fourth floor. There's a seadweller who's constantly commissioning pieces from her. Zanchi studies genetics and evolution. Volcor studies mechanical engineering. Those two live nearby and stop in periodically. And Glacin normally just throws himself up on videochat with his matesprit. He studies pathology and epidemiology and his matesprit studies…" Pallia paused for a while and tapped her chin a few times in thought, "necrobiology. Or something like that. It's unique. And like I said, I study biochemistry. I can show you what I'm working on when we get there. So how's that sound?"

The other troll was silent, but his fins were fluttering heavily. Happiness? Wait no, flustered, Pallia thought. It was all she could guess.

Dontoc then nodded. "You want...you want me to live with you?" he asked doubtfully.

She deflated slightly in her chair. "If that's okay with you, of course. If it's not--"

"No no. I ah...you caught me off guard." He let out his own laugh, though it sounded bittersweet to her ears. "Let us just say I am unused to such kindness and leave it at that."

"Then it's settled," Pallia said. "It'll be nice having someone else in there, even if it's just a warm body. Aisral doesn't count."

He grinned. It lit up his whole face, perking his fins further and lighting his eyes, and Pallia quietly hoped it could stay that way. "Your behavior is somewhat infectious, just so you know. Even if you are a tad strange."

"Is that a problem?"

He hummed. "I do not think so," he said. "Oh, and one last question. To ease my own anxieties."

"Hm?"

"He mentioned unsavory trolls coming to your hive for care. Is that true?"

She nodded. "There's a big pirate place pretty close and they know everything I do is safe and effective. But don't worry, they don't touch anything in that hive. One of them did and ended up getting eaten by a giant snake. He didn't initially, but giant snake is so much easier to explain than horrible acid burns....then giant snake. Word spreads fast."

"That is why you said if I had any problems with an attempted assault to let the troll know who sent me, is it not?"

"Exactly!" She saw him flinch at the sudden shrillness in her tone and added, quieter, "That doesn't change your opinion does it?"

"Pallia, I am afraid you got me far too interested in what I do not know and wish to know unless you said it was to end in my culling I do not think I could turn back. One one hand, they do tell us curiosity is what killed the meowbeast but…"

"But satisfaction is what brought it back," Pallia finished. She leaned back in her chair right as the server came over to give them their food. "And somehow I think living here will satisfy most of your curiosity for whatever you were looking for."

"Perhaps," Dontoc said. "It will if nothing else, be an interesting ride."

#Long post #my writing #on one hand i wanna rewrite it but like...#it's probably good enough for when it was made tbh #unless i somehow have to gut everything and restart it there's not too much reason to #and even then it'll be to fix voice and stuff #make the dialogue flow more naturally #the general layout is still canon

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