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agaypanic · 1 year

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Hi I love your writing. Can you do a Violet Baudelaire x fem p.o.c plus size reader where the reader is distracting Olaf at the heimlich hospital so the Baudelaires can get away and ends up getting kidnapped by Olaf. Thanks 😊.

Save Yourself (Violet Baudelaire X POC!Plus Size!Reader)

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Summary: The Baudelaires meet Y/n, a volunteer at the Heimlich Hospital. Y/n takes it upon herself to help her new friends, but it doesn’t go as planned.

A/N: Reader is in charge of the library of records because why not lol

***

Being a teen employee at a half-built hospital was actually very uneventful for you. People usually weren’t admitted because the hospital was outside the city, and the admitted people usually just lay in bed waiting to get out. So you would go around refilling supply closets and cleaning up messes. But most of your time was spent in the Library of Records.

As previously stated, life at Heimlich Hospital was uneventful because there were no new people. But that all changed when the V.F.D., Volunteers Fighting Disease, showed up to spread cheer to all the patients that resided in the half-finished hospital. What caught your eye was the three younger volunteers in the group. As soon as they could, they broke off from the lively group of volunteer singers and made their way to the library. Suspicious of their behavior, you followed after them.

“Can I help you?” You asked as you saw them try to open the door to the library. “You know, we don’t put patients in the basement, so you guys are most definitely in the wrong place.”

“We’re so sorry.” The girl said. She seemed around your age, probably the oldest of the three. You also noted that she was very pretty, but pushed that thought away as she kept talking. “My siblings and I were looking for the Library of Records.”

“Why?” You asked. How did these strangers know about the library, and why were they looking for it in the first place?

“We wanted to find some information.”

“Well, obviously.” You laughed at the statement. It was a library; what else would you do? “What are your names?”

They looked scared at the question. You didn’t ask why, simply waiting for an answer.

“Um, I’m Violet. These are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny.” You nodded, not knowing why that was so hard for them to disclose.

“Well, I’m Y/n, and I’m in charge of the Library of Records.” You pulled out your set of keys to unlock the door. You don’t know why, but these people seemed trustworthy. Maybe it was because you didn’t get to hang out with people your age. You pushed the thought away, focusing on opening the door. “You could’ve asked to volunteer down here. That would’ve been better than me seeing you guys try to break in.”

You lead the way into the Library of Records, the siblings following close behind you. Rows and rows of tall file cabinets filled the room, going in alphabetical order. Chutes from the ceiling dropped items for you to file into baskets.

“If you’re gonna look for something here, you gotta work for it.”

“How do we do that?” Violet asked. Her eagerness startled you, but you quickly recovered.

“Just do some volunteer work here for the day. It’s all pretty easy. You just take something from the basket and put it in the correct file cabinet.”

“What if we don’t know what the correct file cabinet is?” Klaus asked.

“Then just ask; I’ll know where it goes.”

For the rest of the day, the siblings helped you around the Library of Records. Klaus and Sunny seemed to get the hang of it. Violet, however, would always ask you for confirmation on where something was supposed to go. Not that you minded.

When the day was over, everyone was tired. You invited them to come rest with you, which they gladly accepted. So now, you all lay outside on giant beams of the unfinished half of the Heimlich Hospital. Klaus and Sunny dozed off while you and Violet stayed up, talking quietly.

“So, how did you end up with the V.F.D.?” You asked, looking up at the stars. “You’re obviously not really part of the volunteer group, or else you wouldn’t have split from them so quickly.”

“You’re pretty observant,” Violet commented. “Do you keep up with the news?” You decided not to ask why she would ask such an unrelated question.

“No. Most of the time, the story is twisted to support a certain narrative. So if I want to know something, I go straight to the source to ask. But I usually don’t care, so I don’t ask.”

Violet seemed to look delighted, relieved even, at your response.

“So you care enough about how I ended up here to ask?”

“You could say that.” You glanced at her. “So, are you gonna tell me or not?”

Violet then told you about the entire adventure she and her siblings had been on. It was filled with unfortunate events that tugged at your heart as you listened. By the time she was done telling the whole story, you were baffled.

“That’s… certainly a story. It seems you lived a full life in just a few months.”

“Yeah. It makes me appreciate the quiet moments I get to have. No chaos, just calm and sweet.”

“Is this one of those moments?” You felt bold for asking. This poor girl had just told you her whole unfortunate life story, and you were borderline flirting with her. She looked at you and smiled.

“Yeah, I think it is.”

***

Quiet moments don’t last forever. When morning came, you and the Baudelaire siblings returned to work at the Library of Records. As promised, you helped them search for what they were looking for. They were looking for a sugar bowl. You had no memory of a sugar bowl coming into the Library of Records, but you still helped them search. Instead, they found a file from a file cabinet that had caught their attention.

“What’s so special about the Snicket file?” You asked as Violet carefully opened the envelope containing a film reel. “Also, why were you looking in ‘V’? ‘Sugar bowl’ starts with an ‘S.’”

“Why is a film reel labeled ‘Snicket’ in ‘V’?” Violet asked in return as she handed the reel to Klaus.

“I was given very specific instruction to file anything ‘Snicket’ under ‘V.F.D.’ Where are you going with that?”

“Who instructed you? And we need a projector to see what’s on the reel. Where would that be?”

“That’s classified.” Violet looked at you, and you realized she couldn’t tell whether whoever instructed you or where the projector was was classified. You sighed. “Out the doors, first room on the right. It should be unlocked; I use it to watch movies on slow nights.” You started to walk to one of the baskets to file away more things.

“You’re not coming with us?” A hand closed around your wrist, startling you. You turned around to see that Violet had followed you, but her siblings were where you had left them.

“I have work to do, Violet.” You didn’t know why she looked slightly dejected at your response, but it made you kick yourself for putting that look on her face. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

She nodded. Her hand slid down from your wrist to your hand to give it a tight squeeze before pulling away. She walked back to her siblings, and they went to the projecting room.

Now it was just you, filing things away, alone with your thoughts. Why were you so willing to help complete strangers? And why was it so easy for Violet to get something from you with just a pout? You wished you could file your thoughts away like you do in the Library of Records. Out of sight, out of mind. A familiar peace filled you as you walked around the library, putting things away.

“Run!” Peace never lasts, apparently. You closed a file cabinet and turned towards the source of the noise. The Baudelaires were running towards you, the door slamming behind you.

“Why are you running?” You asked, feeling slightly irritated that they were disturbing the library’s peace.

“Esmé.” Violet simply said, trying to catch her breath. You recognized the name from the stories Violet told you last night. “We need to hide.”

“Follow me.” You ran, leading the way to the back of the library. From far away, you heard the doors burst open, a sickly sweet voice trying to coerce the Baudelaires.

“Y/n, this is a dead end,” Violet said as you neared the back wall.

“No, it’s not.” You pointed to your destination. “There are air vents with chute doors you can open. Get in them, but don’t go all the way down. We won’t be able to fit in one, so we’ll have to split up.”

Before the Baudelaires could say anything, you all heard a terrifying thud and creak of metal against metal. You looked back, still running, to see giant file cabinets falling like dominoes right toward you and the Baudelaires. Without a word, you led them to the right to an air vent.

“Two of you get in.” You quickly instructed.

“Klaus and Sunny.” Violet decided. Without protest, her younger siblings opened and jumped into the vent. You looked around, groaning once you realized the fallen cabinets blocked the next closest vent. So you and Violet would have to run past it to the next one, twice the distance.

“Come on.” You grabbed Violet’s hand and, without waiting for her to prepare for the run, made a break for it. The two of you tried not to stop out of fear whenever you heard more cabinets fall. Anger rose in you towards Esmé. Not just because she was working with Count Olaf to go after the Baudelaires but also because she was destroying the Library of Records that you had devoted so much of your time to.

After what felt like forever, you and Violet reached the air vent. You urged her to go first, keeping a lookout for Esmé just in case she tried to be sneaky. After Violet got situated, she beckoned you to come in. But before you could, you heard heels clicking from close by.

“I’ll get her to follow me out. Then you and your siblings will be safe.” You thought your tone would convey that you wouldn’t budge on the matter. But Violet thought otherwise.

“No, just come in. She won’t find us.”

“I can’t risk it. I’m sorry.” You don’t know why you were apologizing. You were keeping Violet and her siblings safe by leading Esmé away. Maybe it was that disappointed pout again that made you reconsider your options, but in the end, you stood your ground. Hearing Esmé’s steps grow closer, you closed the vent, despite Violet’s protests.

You just started running. Despite the library being in absolute disarray, you still knew the room like the back of your hand. When you were halfway to the doors, you started to shout to get Esmé’s attention.

“I have what you want, Esmé! Come and get it!” You hoped that because of her heels, you’d be faster. You could find Babs and tell her that the hospital was under attack.

“Give it to me, and no one gets hurt, little girl,” Esmé replied, following after you. You quickened your pace to further the distance. Soon enough, you saw the doors. Your escape.

You pushed them open and ran right into someone. Instead of helping you up gently, they got a firm grip on you. It seemed they didn’t want you to keep running. You looked up to see a man in a doctor’s coat. But you’ve never seen him before now, so either he was new or there was something terribly wrong.

“Not a Baudelaire, but you’ll do for now.” Count Olaf grinned, dragging you off with Esmé following behind.

#violet baudelaire #violet baudelaire x reader #asoue #asoue x reader #a series of unfortunate events x reader #a series of unfortunate events #agaypanic

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 1 year

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No Business Like Show Business | Part Four

Series Summary: you work backstage at a theatre and become close with the star of the show (who you may also have a slight crush on)

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: like 2 swear words I think..? also not proof read because its 12.30am and I need to sleep but I really wanted to just get this out there so sorry if its shit

A/N: wow whoops how is it almost a year since I last updated this story?? I am so SO sorry, its been a difficult year but honestly THANK YOU for the comments and messages about this series. You guys keep me motivated to keep writing so thank you thank you thank you!! Feel free to substitute James for any actor of your choosing. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Three | Masterlist

- - - - -

Sooooo, James McAvoy kissed me… I know right? WHAT?!

Is this real life? Am I dreaming? Have I fallen through a wormhole into some alternate reality?

All I know for sure is, Vera is bloody good at playing Cupid.

— — — —

Walking into the work the next morning you can’t help smile. Getting kissed by James McAvoy certainly has a way of putting a spring in your step. As you approach the theatre you notice more people hanging around than usual. There’s normally one or two guys with cameras hoping to catch a glimpse of James or Anastasia, but today there’s a whole group. And even more unusual is, they’re actually paying attention to you.

“It’s her! Over here love!”

“Flash us a smile?”

You shield your eyes as cameras flash brightly in your face, disorientating you as you try to reach the theatre door.

“How long have you been dating James?”

“What does Anastasia think about your affair?”

“Leave her alone!” A voice cuts through the noise as an arm comes around you and directs you safely inside. “Should be ashamed of yourselves, shouting at a young girl like that. Vultures!” Vera shouts before slamming the theatre door shut and turning to you “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” you reply, even though your hands are shaking. “What the hell just happened? Why do they suddenly care about me?”

“You haven’t seen?” Vera asks, reaching into her bag and pulling out a magazine which she hands to you. There on the front cover is a photo of your face staring back at you.

“What the…” you say in shock as you read the caption ‘meet the mystery girl who stole James’ heart’ along side a photo of the two of you smiling at each other in the coffee shop. “This is mental”

“It gets worse” Vera says as she opens the magazine to the article in which details about you have even printed for anyone to read along side a couple of your selfies taken from your instagram account. They found out your age, where you grew up, where you studied.

“This is madness! It was just coffee, surely no one actually cares this much about who I am?”

“Just coffee..?” Vera asks “Because I have to say you do look quite cosy there”

“Well-”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Alan the director calls from down the corridor, startling you “A word please.” A statement, not a question.

You nod, taking a breath before heading down to meet him. He leads you into his office and closes the door, gesturing for you to take a seat. You notice a copy of the magazine on his desk.

“Care to explain what’s going on here?” He picks up the magazine, pointing to the photo of you and James.

“We went to get coffee” you reply simply, not quite understanding what all the fuss is about.

Alan opens the magazine and begins to read “McAvoy and his new girl were spotted getting close as they talked and giggled together in cafe nero, leaving us to wonder if his relationship with girlfriend and theatre co-star Anastasia is in trouble. We cant wait to see how this backstage drama plays out.”

“Like I said, we just got coffee. People recognised James, saw me with him and put two and two together to get five.”

“Well I hope the coffee was worth it because I’m going to have to pull you from the production team.”

“What?! No, Alan, sir, please-”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’ll arrange someone to cover you”

“Alan?” James bursts through the door “sorry to interrupt but you can’t replace Y/N, she’s done nothing wrong. Its my fault we were there, I asked her to come. It was supposed to be a group thing but everyone else dropped out.”

You feel your heart flutter at the fact he’s covering for you, even if he is bending the truth slightly.

“Look James, I understand it may have been a mistake but I cant risk this love triangle of yours effecting the show.”

“There is no love triangle.” James laughs “All this is is two colleagues having a drink after work”

‘Colleagues’? You think to yourself, has he forgotten the kiss you shared after?

“Oh come on, you have to admit these photos look rather cosy” Alan points to the magazine.

“It was loud in there, we had to lean in close to be able to hear each other. It’s not Y/N’s fault that people are seeing something that isn’t there!”

You feel your heart sink as the words ‘something that isn’t there’ play on repeat in your mind.

“Fine, you can stay.” Alan’s voice pulls you back out of your thoughts. “But you’ll have to tell Anastasia” he directs the last bit to James who rolls his eyes.

“So this was her idea then” James says.

“She’s just concerned about how this negative press could affect ticket sales.”

“That’s bullshit Alan and you know it!” The anger in James’ voice surprises you. You would never dream of talking to a director like that. “You’ve said yourself there’s no such thing as ‘negative press’. As long as people are talking about the play then people will come to see the play. Your words, not mine.”

“I know” Alan sighs.

“Ana is just jealous and looking to stir trouble, that’s what she does.”

“Yes but we need her.”

“Do we?” James asks, and a silence fills the room. You awkwardly glance between the two men, feeling uncomfortable being in the middle of this heated conversation.

You clear your throat, causing Alan and James to look at you. For a moment you think they may have forgotten you were still there. “Can I go?” You ask.

“Yes of course, apologies Y/N. You must have work to be getting on with.”

You give a small nod and get the hell out of that room as fast as you can.

— — — —

You give yourself ten minutes to just sit when you get to the props room, head on the desk just processing the past 24 hours.

James kissed you. Paparazzi are obsessing over you. Alan nearly fired you.

“Hello dear- ooh, are you alright?” Vera’s voice fills the room, you didn’t realise you’d left the door open.

“Yeah” you say sitting yourself back up in your chair.

“Really?”

“…no.” you respond honestly.

“What happened daring?” Vera takes a seat on the chair next to you. “I heard raising voices when I passed Alan’s office on the way here.”

“Alan wanted to remove me from the production team. James stepped in and basically saved my job.”

“Oh, well at least you're still here. That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, but he also said some things that I don't know how to feel about.”

“Alan?”

“No, James. He said we’re just colleagues and there’s nothing between us but yesterday at the cafe it kinda felt like a date and then when we got back here he kissed me so now I just really don't know-”

“He kissed you!!”Vera interrupts, a mix of shock and glee on her face. You forgot you hadn’t had chance to tell her yet.

“Yeah, but then he said all that-“

“That doesn’t matter darling, he was probably just saying that to Alan to keep you here. Have you talked to him?”

“No, I haven’t been able to. This morning as not gone to plan at all.”

“Well then I wouldn’t worry about it just yet. You need to speak to him.”

“Hello?” James voice calls as he appears at the door.

“Speak of the devil” Vera whispers to you with a cheeky smile as she gets up from her chair “Hello James dear”

“Don’t let me interrupt you”

“No not at all, I was just leaving. See you later Y/N” she winks before disappearing out the room, closing the door behind her.

James watches her and turns to you. There’s a brief silence a the two of you just look at each other, a small smile on your faces.

“So I-” “I should-” you both say at the same time, making you both laugh.

“Sorry you were saying?” You ask.

“No no, you go” he replies.

“Okay, uh.. I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me with Alan.”

“Of course, there was no way I would let him fire you.”

“I don't think he would have fired me, but he was definitely about to remove from this production.”

“Oh! Well in that case…” James jokes and you playfully hit him on the arm “I’m kidding, I’m glad you're still on the team.”

“Yeah me too.” you say absentmindedly fiddling with a pen you found on the desk. He places a hand on top of yours, causing you to look at him.

“And I know it got you in trouble, but I really enjoyed our coffee yesterday.”

“It was good coffee” you say sarcastically.

“You know what I mean…” he says with a laugh.

“Do I?” You ask, pulling your hands away as you sit back in your chair and look at him “cause I’m picking up on some mixed signals here”

“Was kissing you not a clear enough signal?”

“Well I thought it was, but then you said that we were just colleagues and that there was nothing between us”

“What? When did I say that?” He is genuinely confused.

“This morning, in Alan’s office. You said that people were seeing something that wasn’t there! So I got the hint that you didn’t actually like me and maybe you regretted kissing me or maybe you just kiss everyone like that-”

“Y/N” he takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him “What I said to Alan I said because I didn’t want you to lose your job. I didn’t mean it. Just like I do not kiss everyone the way I kissed you and I most definitely do not regret it.” He smiles at you the most genuine, warm smile which makes you smile back. “I really like you Y/N, and I would really like to kiss you again. If you’ll let me..?”

He searches your eyes and as soon as you nod he leans in and gives you the most tender kiss you’ve ever received. You melt into him completely, but suddenly pull away.

“Wait, what about Anastasia? I don't want to be part of some love triangle.”

“There is no triangle Y/N. Ana and I are not together.”

“But the papers said-”

“It’s fake news, set up by the people in charge of the theatre’s publicity. They think more people will want to buy tickets for the show if the lead actors are dating. It’s bullshit I know, but I’ve been forbidden from setting the story straight until after the show closes.” He pauses, giving you a second to take in what he’s explained “I understand if this is too complicated, you shouldn’t have to be dragged into this mess and I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to get lost-“

Now its your turn to interrupt him. You pull him into you and kiss him, passionately.

Eventually you pull apart slightly, wrapping your arms behind his neck and looking up at him. “Was that a clear enough signal for you?” You joke.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I think you need to show me again” he winks and you return to your new favourite hobby; kissing James McAvoy…

Part Five

Taglist: (if you want to be added/removed please let me know)

@halfofwhatisayismeaningless @internetgremlin-reads @blahblahblah0987654321 @mcavoy-girl @username21mk

Also please bear in mind I can't reply to comments on fics from this username as its a sideblog but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate them. your comments give me LIFE 💛

#James McAvoy #James Mcvoy x reader #james mcavoy fanfic #James McAvoy imagine #no business like show business #nblsb #fanfic #imagine

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nicolesainz · 1 year

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New Romantics (Part V)

Carlos Sainz x OC x Mason Mount

Warnings: lot of cursing, sexual themes, angst, (there’s everything in this)

Chapter 6

I don’t know how this conversation with Carlos sparked, but it felt good for things to go back to normal. This is much better than trying to avoid him whenever he’s in sight.

Mason had dozed off next to me, sleeping peacefully and having his arms wrapped around my waist. The kiss we shared was unexpected but very pleasant. I had grown to like Mason more than a friend back in the day, but was so scared of Lando cutting ties with him, that I never told him anything about this.

I finally felt alive and was filled with thrill, while his hands were softly caressing my bare back and leaving wet kisses all over my neck and lips. What I was scared of, was that what if Mason regretted this? Maybe he was drunk and wasn’t thinking clearly. Or was this something that was meant to happen?

Was this a sign that the chapter of Carlos’s and I story, that was being written by the version of myself in love, is now ending? Everything will be determined soon.

Even though I cracked a smile as I was going through all pictures of me and him, I finally felt appreciated by a man who didn’t threw me under the bus.

I check out the time, only to see that it’s 8 am. Race day is finally here. Being close to the circuit, you can hear the engines revving up from miles away. There are always other races before the F1 session takes place. A lotus race, moto gp race, formula 3, formula 2, and then comes the star of the show. The real reason why people attend such an event.

Even when Lando was in formula 2, we would stay until Formula 1’s race was finished and the podium ceremony too. He would always say the same thing every time one of his favorite drivers would stand on the podium:

“One day, I’ll be standing there too”

Suddenly, I felt a pair of lips moving around my cheek, kissing it softly, until I finally turned my head to face Mason. The semi-opened curtain would bring a little light into the room, allowing me to read his facial expressions. All I could see, was a big sweet smile drawn on him.

“Good morning sunshine” he straighten himself onto the bed, removing his body from mine. His eyes had lightened up so quickly, and that made my heart pound even faster.

“Good morning to you too Mr. Chelsea” I replied with one of his many nicknames, flashing him an equally excited smile.

“Can I ask you something, Mase?” my throat dries up as the words won’t come out of my mouth

“Uh oh. You’ve got the worried look on your face. Did I do something? Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Please tell me” Mason curled up again, now this time looking me even deeper in the eyes

“No no, you didn’t do anything bad. You said something last night but it wasn’t something to worry about either, or at least I hope so”

“I didn’t insult you or anything like that? Was I too drunk and said something mean?”

“Certainly not mean. Not at all. It’s just that-well-uh-last night you told me that you wanted to kiss me and after we did, you asked me if I wanted to be with you tonight, I mean, last night. And, uh, I wanted to ask, why? Do you mean all this?”

I could hear Mason’s fast heartbeat even without being close to him. We’ve been drunk a few times together and said sloppy things to each other, but then laughed them off. This time, it was completely different.

“Y/N, do you trust me?” He exclaimed before making a statement

“More than anything”

“Then i think it’s high time I tell you that you’ve been in my head since forever. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t feel happy whenever I’m around you. You’ve been my biggest supporter since day one! I loved you as a friend but as the time went by, those feelings grew, but I was scared of ruining such a great friendship. So yes, I meant what I said. Every single word”

I can feel something fluttering inside my stomach and I’m sure those are butterflies. I know it’s cheesy to say this but that’s how I felt when those words escaped his lips. They were to cherish forever.

“Please say something, I feel like I’ve scared you off now” Mason came closer to me, caressing my arms with his. He looks so worried as he waits for my answer

“If this was to scare me off Mase, then I would have fought the urge to tell you that I’m glad those words and actions were valid. Because you just made my entire day, if not, the couple of past years” a wave of relief washed him over, after I gave him a very unexpected to him answer but certainly the one he was looking for.

“So, I also think it’s about time, I take you out on a proper date and without anyone interfering. Just me and you. Once we arrive back in London, be ready at any time”

“I’m all in Mase. I’d be more than happy to go on a date with out!” I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big hug. This felt like heaven.

“You don’t think your brother will chop of my legs, do you? I remember me being off limits”

“Nah, I even think he had realized I was crushing over you and was more than fine with it”

“Thank god! You can’t even imagine the things he’d tell me, when I even dared to comment you positively”

“He’s a big boy now. Plus, I feel like he thinks that you’re the safest option for me”

“I will keep you safe. All jokes aside. I am so glad I opened up. I was scared you’d hate me or you'd never talk to me again. Plus, I was starting to think another guy may be in the picture”

uh oh, what other guy? I haven't had a boyfriend. Ever! Being Lando’s little sister meant that a lot of guys would want to go out with me just because my brother is an F1 driver.

“Can I tell you a secret? But please don't laugh!”

“Why would I laugh sweetheart? You can tell me anything”

How do you explain to someone that you’d never had a boyfriend. That's certainly not an easy task. Carlos and I never dated. With me being scared of commitment and especially with someone who is constantly on the run, I never believed that there could be an us. I wanted it. Very much. I craved for it. But it never happened. It was simple flirting. Mostly one sided. Although, there was a day that I will never forget with Carlos...

“I have never been in a relationship” I blurt out and shut my eyes close, waiting for his response. Luckily, he doesn't take too much time.

“I promise to be the best first boyfriend. If you give me the honour to” Mason cups my cheeks and looks me deeply in the eyes. The sparkles of the sunrays, make his hazel eyes shimmer. This is better than a Disney moment.

“I’d call myself more than fortunate, to have you as my first boyfriend, Mason Tony Mount” I smile at him, grabbing him from the hem of his shirt and smashing our lips together. The small kiss that I intended it to be, turned into a heavy make out session.

Mason’s lips were roaming all over my body, leaving marks, both visible and none. My nails were dug deep on his bare back, as his tongue run through my pussy, making me exclaim his name extremely loud. This was more than a euphoric way to start the day.

“Next time, I don't want you to hold back. I wanna cherish those moans” my cheeks turned into a deep red colour, while he was removing his mouth away from my core.

I can barely move my legs after being under his influence. I finally manage to get up and we both dress, ready to make our way to the track. I open my suitcase and put on my McLaren shirt, with Lando’s number on the back. At the corner of the case, my eyes fall on an orange had, but this time, it had the number 55 on it.

I didn't know, whether it was a good idea to wear it or not. Carlos wasn’t at McLaren anymore. Red was the colour representing him. He has a new teammate and a new reputation. Not the same as the Carlos I met two years ago. I decide to ignore the hat and just slip on my sunglasses.

“Shall we go better Norris sibling?” Mason gives me his hand and I immediately grab it.

“Let's go enjoy the race!”

After all the trouble we went through, we finally made it to the paddock and at McLaren's garage. There was Daniel and my brother, putting on their racing suits and heading towards their cars.

“Ah, there you are! Thought you overslept” Lando embraces me into a very tight hug. I can feels the nerves by the way his hands are shaking. I know Lando, better than my own self.

“Don't be stressed. You’ve got this. You will do wonderful!” I whisper in my brother’s ear and give him a comforting smile.

“I owe you for coming today! I miss you a lot and it was nice you took some time off to come at a race”

“If I could, I’d spend all my time with you. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past 22 years”

“And Danny Ric, good luck out there! Rock them all”

“Thanks little Norris. Glad to have you again on the paddock!”

“Alright, we shall get going. Go ask Heidi about your headsets, she's there waiting for you in the box”

“Good luck guys! You will make the team proud” Mason says to both of the drivers and pats them sympathetically on the back.

We find Heidi and explains to Mason how the headset works and how he can change channels between Daniel, Lando and the commentator. While he is still learning and figuring out how to work it out, Heidi pulls me aside for a quick moment.

“He was here looking for you”

“Who?”

“Carlos! He asked Lando where you were, but he didn't know, and was constantly looking at his phone. Then, I kinda peek at his phone and saw that you were texting last night” “He texted me first. And was he really expecting a message? He’s my brother’s ex teammate. I’d text Daniel but not him”

“You should have seen the anger in his eyes when Daniel mentioned that you were sleeping in the same room as Mason. I’ve never seen him this furious”

Was he jealous of Mason? Is that the reason why he acted so weird at the club last night? Why he referred to Mason as “my boyfriend”? Why would he feel like this? He’s barely talked to me the whole weekend.

“I can't do something about that. If he was angry, that's on him, not me. I am simply here to support my brother”

“No, you’re right. Plus, Mason seems a tag extra happy today. OH MY GOD DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?” Heidi almost yelled out but thankfully I shushed her.

“Keep it down. I will tell you everything after the race” I give her a playful wink and we both make our way back to Mason.

“Race is about to start. Oh this is exciting” he says to us before we could put on our headsets

“The craziest parts are the first 5 turn until lap 2, when all the cars are still trying to get a better position” I tell him and turn my head to face the big screen inside the garage.

The formation lap ends and now all cars are waiting for the five lights to switch off. I get nervous every time this happens, whether im attending a race weekend or watching it at home.

“Its lights out and away we go...” I can barely understand the things Crofty says as the race starts until I hear “on the inside Lando Norris, takes third place from Charles Leclerc, bad start from him...DANIEL RICCIARDO HITS CARLOS SAINZ! THE FERRARI HAS SPUN AROUND AND RICCIARDO KEEPS GOING AND OH NO CARLOS SAINZ FOR THE SECOND RACE IN A ROW, SECOND GRAND PRIX IN A ROW LOOKS LIKE HIS AFTERNOON HAS BEEN ENDED EARLIER THAN HE WOULD HAVE WANTED”

My mouth almost falls to the ground, as I see Daniel knocking off Carlos into the gravel and everyone at the garage is currently groaning at the incident. My heart drops as I see Daniel entering the track but Carlos being stuck.

I turn the channel back to my brothers radio

“Yellow flag, sector one, and safety car deployed”

‘What? Why?” My brother asks his engineer.

“Daniel crashed with Sainz on turn one and the Ferrari is stuck on the gravel”

“Fucking hell. Okay, keep me posted on tyre temperature and Dan’s position”

“Copy”

I remove my headset and scratch my head, trying to realise what has just happened. First ever Grand Prix, I attend after two years and Carlos is already out. At least Lando is currently third, which gives me hope for the end of the race.

My eyes haven't left the big screen, as I see the crane removing the Ferrari off the gravel and Carlos walking with his head down towards the garage. I feel incredibly bad for him. This is the first home race of Ferrari and all the wanted was even a podium. He wants to make Tifosi proud, but this doesn't seem to make the cut.

I place my headset on a chair and mouth to Mason that I will be going to the bathroom for a moment.

“Do you want me to come with you? Need any help?” He comes closer to me but I reassure him with a kiss on his cheek that I will be back in a few moments.

I go from behind the garage and try to spot Carlos’s driver room from behind Ferrari’s motor house. Lando had showed me through FaceTime last time how he managed to sneak into Carlos’s room and prank him. Very glad I remember the route.

Once I’m outside of the door, I knock softly, hoping for an answer. All I get is a “si” in Spanish and walk in, to be faced with a disappointed Carlos and a few tears escaping his eyes. My heart breaks seeing him like this.

“¿Qué haces aquí? Tu hermano sigue en carrera!” (What are you doing here? Your brother is still racing!)

Over the course of two years, I have managed to improve my Spanish, being able to communicate better with Carlos, while it was also helpful when we wanted pull a prank on him, since he couldn't understand

“I know he is, but that's not the problem right now. Are you hurt? What happened? Everything occurred so fast” I fall down on me knees and put on hands on my thighs, shoving my nails deep into my skin.

“Ricciardo can't fucking wait till the end of turn apparently! He knew he had no space!” Carlos screams and I totally understand him

“Carlos I am so sorry this happened. It was truly unfair and totally not your fault”

“Go tell that to race control who will give him maybe a 5 second penalty and that's it! Gilipollas” (Asshole)

“Can I do anything to help you? Just tell me and I will do it” I place my hands on his knees and he immediately removes them

“No. Vuelve al garaje con tu novio. No te necesito aquí” (Go back to the garage with your boyfriend. I don't need you here)

“Stop trying to shut me off when I am only trying to help you!” I yell at him aggressively and head towards the door of his room.

Before I could touch the handle, Carlos grabs my wrists and pushes me back onto the wall. His body is holding mine steady and his hot breath is hitting my lips, as he’s trying to catch his breath. Last time we were this close, things got more complicated than they already were.

“Si te dejas llevar, existe la posibilidad de que te rompa el corazón.” (If you let yourself go, there is a chance I will break your heart)

“Set me free then” I say in a lower manner, realising I will regret this later

Carlos’s lips crash onto mine with force, while my wrists are still under his grip. He doesn't let me go and shoved my hands underneath his race suit. I quickly unzip the fireproof and lead my hands towards his boxers, which were hiding one of Carlos’s biggest secrets concerning me.

“If you touch me right now, I promise to you, that you won't be able to scream another mans name ever again” he says underneath the kiss, while I completely ignore him, focusing on letting him go off on me.

I offered myself as a toy to him and without a hesitation, he accepted the offer. Now, it was a matter for the toy to shatter into pieces.

Before we could continue, he removed my hands from him and wore a jersey to cover his semi-naked body.

“I can't let you fall into this loophole again Quinn. I am sorry. This isn't what you deserve. Please leave. This isn't right” Carlos’s voice has gone much quieter and peaceful

“Your day will come soon Carlos. Everything good takes time to come around”

#Carlos Sainz Jr #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #mason mount one shot #mason mount x y/n #mason mount

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justinewrites · 4 months

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Yo I don't really post snippets in public because I have a hard time thinking any one bit of writing is good enough to post on its own but

listen

you can have this one. First pass at a scene between Lucy and Nate (if you've seen me post about my pirate blorbos at all you know they CONSUME ME) after they've fucked nasty for the first time. Not explicit. Suicidal ideology within. Utter devotion ahead. Simping? I think the kids call it simping.

---

Nate did not sleep.

He dozed for a moment, succumbing to weariness and the alluring warmth of the bed. When he jolted awake, there she was -- alive and real and naked and next to him. Moonlight lanced through the curtains and fell upon her slumbering visage, illuminating the angelic nature of her features: wild, holy enough to burn his eyes out.

The desire to self destruct, a constant and once humble companion, had never been so strong. He shouldn’t have done this, allowing himself one night to experience the best this life had to offer only to finally, truly experience its absence. But what was the fucking point of living otherwise? He’d drown himself in the ocean come dawn. A happy death.

He could have been content in the wanting. The wanting, like the need for dying, had been with him his whole life and this was no different. It was the having that he couldn’t abide, not when he could not have it forever. The truth of it lying on the bed before him hurt so much more than anything his imagination could conjure. A vast emptiness yawned ahead: life after Lucy, not simply without.

Because this? Could not be real. It could not be constant — his usual companions were never so sweet. Lucy tossed her lovers aside like the bones of the animals she’d eaten and Nate was bloody grateful but also his life was over. She’d eaten her fill.

Given the slightest chance, he’d crack himself open and show her there was still marrow left, just for an extra minute, a moment more of her lips on him, before he was cast out to sea.

She blinked her eyes open, her lashes the wings of a dark butterfly stirring from the bloom. The corner of her mouth pulled in a slow smirk. “Already up?” she murmured, stroking a scorching finger over his cheekbone. “Haven’t I run you ragged?”

“I’m still breathing,” he said. A boyish hope blossomed in his chest, seized immediately by cynicism’s wicked vice. “There’s some life left for you to ruin.”

She examined his face, held his unwavering gaze. “You liked it.” Nate found himself at a rare loss for words. The statement would have been insulting, infuriating, had it not been uttered by those specific lips. He opened his mouth and a prayer almost tumbled out. The confession of his suicidal contemplations fought to escape. Liked it? He was bereft of purpose without it.

“I like how you kneel,” she said when he only gaped like a fish. “I like how you look at me. I’ve never been properly pleased by a man and not seen shame in his eyes.”

Shame? Shame? Shame was for Adam in the garden weeping at his own nakedness. Nate had always been the serpent, crawling on his belly and greedily devouring the remnants of fruits falling to the ground. Now the fruit, the whole bloody tree, came with his name on her lips and God would have to kill him Himself to make him stop crawling back for more.

“You’re such a good boy,” she murmured, just the way she had last night, the way that broke him into a million fiery stars. “You’ll be good for me on the ship, too, won’t you? If I call you to my cabin? Sometimes when you’re being good at your job I just want to do the most terrible things to you.”

Nate laughed, a wheeze, and then couldn’t remember how to get the air back for a moment. “Love, you could rise to Heaven and I’d find a way to break in just to hear you say my name. You’ll never be rid of me.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with equal parts salvation and doom. “I’ve heard of worse curses,” she said, her lips so close the words branded themselves into his skin. “And I don’t think you’ll need to worry about Heaven.”

He’d die for her. He’d kill for her. And now it seemed that the least likely of all was before him: he might get back on that ship tomorrow and live for her.

#neptune's hoard and other treasures #lucyxnate #writing #writeblr #pirates #snippets

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stereksecretsanta · 1 year

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Merry Christmas, @rosalinesbenvolio!

Hope you enjoy it :)

*****

Stiles pushes into the apartment, hair sticking out in tuffs and eyes wild. The door bangs back against the wall, and Erica rolls her eyes at the dramatics of it but otherwise doesn’t turn away from her homework. The way she figures, Lydia can deal with him.

Sure enough, Lydia’s bedroom door opens and she storms out, mud mask and scowl in place. “What have I told you,” she starts, “about throwing the door open! If you damage the drywall and we don’t get our deposit back-.”

Completely ignoring her rant, Stiles turns and slams the door shut. “I’ve had enough!”

That catches Erica’s attention. She puts aside her pen. Lydia snaps her jaw shut in surprise hard enough that Erica can hear her teeth clash together.

Throwing his backpack aside, Stiles turns to look at them. He’s heart rate is elevated, breathing erratic, and he opens and closes his mouth three times before repeating, in a smaller voice, “I’ve had enough.”

Approaching slowly, Erica keeps her arms out in a similar way she would if she were approaching a frightened animal. “Batman?” It takes a long moment before his eyes find hers. “What’s going on?”

All at once, the fight leaves him. Slumping to the floor, he groans dramatically into the carpet. “I just-.” Wailing, once more, he rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I love him so much.”

Lydia scoffs. “You’re kidding me right? That’s what all this was about?”

Erica is more sympathetic. “What happened?” The response is a mumble that even her werewolf hearing can’t make out. “Try again.”

“He got tickets for the Star Wars marathon in a few weeks. Two tickets. For us to go together.”

Lydia perches delicately on the edge of the couch, crossing her arms in a haughty way. “And that is a problem because?”

“That’s a date thing! Couples do that together!” He throws his arms up into the arm, dramatic even as he continues to sprawl on the floor. “And here he is, offering me the ticket so sincere. Like, ‘oh hey Stiles, I thought it would be really fun to do this together. I know how much you love Star Wars, Stiles. I know it’s an all day event, but there’s nothing I would want to do more than spend the whole thing with you, Stiles.’” He punctures the statement by screeching again.

Lydia throws one of the pillows at him. “Will you knock that off before the neighbors call the cops again.”

He grumbles but sits up enough to glare at her.

“You know,” Erica says, voice falsely sweet, “you could make this real easy on both of you and just ask him out.”

This is a familiar argument. Stiles will moan and complain about how much he loves Derek, Erica and Lydia will try and convince him to just ask him out, and Stiles will come back with all the reasons why he can’t do that.

This time though, Stiles surprises them all. “I’m going to do better than that.”

Erica and Lydia blink at each other. “Um.”

Lydia recovers first. “How can you do better than actually asking him out?”

Puffing out his chest, Stiles is positively glowing with excitement. It is such a quick turn around that if they didn’t know him as well as they do, it would be jolting. “I’m going to woo him.”

Both women stare at him, Erica with judgement, Lydia with something closer to horror. “Gods, no. Stiles, that’s a terrible idea!” As someone who has been on the receiving end of his ‘wooing,’ she knows how far he can take it.

“I agree with the Princess on this,” Erica says. “He already likes you, you don’t need to convince him that you would make a good partner.”

“Okay, first I’m not as convinced that he actually likes me at all. Second, I’m not trying to show him I would make a good boyfriend. I mean, duh, I’m awesome. That’s a given. No, I need to prove to him that I would make a good mate.”

Both women groan. “Stiles, whatever you’re thinking please reconsider. Just be honest with him.”

“You know what would show how great of a mate you could be?” Erica asks, pitching her voice higher in excitement. Stiles leans toward her, absolutely eating it up. Right as he looks ready to tip over, she smooths her expression out and deadpans, “Being upfront with your feelings.”

Blowing out his breath, Stiles rocks back and crosses his arms. “You are both terrible beings, and I hate you.”

“We just know better than you,” Lydia offers as a counter point.

“Just remember that you could have helped me with this.” He hauls himself to his feet and then points at each of them. “Remember that you could’ve had a hand in the greatest love story of this century.”

“Five bucks says that Derek thinks he’s possessed.”

Lydia grins. “I see your possession and raise you a curse.”

They shake hands and Stiles groans. “I hate you both,” he reminds them before collecting his backpack to head to his room. He has brainstorming to do, after all.

Through the Stomach to the Heart: Provide for them

If there is anything that Stiles has learned by surrounding himself with werewolves, it’s that they can really put food away. And well, everyone always says that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. So it makes sense logically to start with food. Plus, a good mate has to be able to provide for their other half. What could possibly be a better way to show Derek how perfect they could be together.

Of course, it would be easier if Stiles was a better cook. Sure he can putter around in the kitchen enough to get by. He did keep his dad healthy and fed through high school. But he needs something better than that. So he brings in the big guns.

“Boyd, you have to help me!”

From where he stands at the stove shirtless despite the fact that he’s frying off bacon, Boyd scoffs. “I don’t have to do anything.” The look he shoots at Stiles is flat. “Besides, I know what you’re trying to do. And as dumb as I think you’re being, the food needs to come from you alone.” He shrugs. “It means more that way.”

Stiles is dumbfounded. “Wait, you’re not going to try and convince me that this is a bad idea?” He had all the arguments in place for that (he spent half the night drafting them in a Word document and everything). But begrudging advice? He doesn’t know what to do with that.

Ignoring how his mouth has actually fallen open in surprise, Boyd turns back to his bacon. “I think that there’s an easier way to get what you want, but I also think that Derek deserves being spoiled.”

“But you won’t help me?”

“No, man. It has to come from you. Otherwise, it doesn’t mean as much.” He sighs. “But I do have something you might want.” He points over to a small notebook resting close enough to the sink that if it belonged to Stiles he would be worried about it. “The first recipe in that book is for a homemade chicken potpie. It’s Derek’s favorite. You’re welcome.” He pauses. “Also, I better get that book back. Otherwise I will be the first in line to tell him all about what happened the summer between your freshman and sophomore years of college.”

Now his mouth drops open in horrified betrayal instead of surprise. He snaps it shut. “If you weren’t helpful and Derek’s favorite beta, I would definitely fight you.”

Without missing a beat, Boyd deadpans, “I would win.”

“I would hex your shoelaces to tie themselves together.”

“I have claws.”

“You would be on your face in the mud before you could even break your fall.”

“Wow.” Stiles spins around and glares at Erica who merely raises an eyebrow. “Stop flirting with my boyfriend.”

That makes Stiles sputter, but there isn’t really a comeback for that. “Your boyfriend is a menace,” is finally what he settles on, scooping up the little notebook and holding it tight to his chest. “But he also helped me a lot, so he is also the best person in this house at the moment.”

Erica shouts at him for this comment, but Stiles is already on his way to the door. He has shopping to do.

———

Surprisingly, making the potpie isn’t that hard. Sure, Stiles uses a little bit of magic to make a lattice on top, but he wants it to look nice and doesn’t trust his artistic skills at all. Plus with magic he’s able to manipulate the dough enough that there is a nice wolf howling to the moon in the center of the pie.

He’s actually really happy with the outcome, and just imagining the look on Derek’s face has him walking around with a dopey smile.

The problem is, he can’t decide how to actually give it to him. On one hand, he could just go to the house, march inside and put it into his hands. But the plan is to woo Derek, and while a good potpie is nice (please let it actually taste good), it is only the first step.

In the end, secrecy and intrigue win out. Masking his scent with a glamour, Stiles climbs in the jeep. It takes a little more magic to spell the blue beast to be something that people overlook, but he has plenty to spare. Not only has he spent several years honing his ability and training with some amazing druids and witches and even another Spark to perfect his skill, but Beacon Hills has been quiet. As they settled in and figured out how to be a real pack, the threats learned that it was better to leave Beacon Hills alone. The new era of the Hale pack kept mostly to themselves. But, when the threats do come, they are reckless and have a reputation that they will do whatever it takes to win. They’ve seen too much to let anyone even try to take advantage of them, and one too many people looking for a fight never made it out of Beacon Hills and now people leave them alone. So he has plenty of magic at his disposal.

Stiles parks down the street from Derek’s house. Even with the magic, he doesn’t want the risk. Plus, there’s something kind of fun about sneaking up to leave a gift behind. He feels kind of silly, but in a way that leaves him giddy instead of self-conscious (it helps that he tucked the potpie into a basket as a call-back to Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf).

By the time he’s snuck back down the street and has cast a stone to knock against the door, he’s feeling pretty good.

Now all he has to do is wait long enough that it isn’t suspicious when he randomly shows up to the house to hang out. Wednesday nights are usually when he drops by for dinner, so that should be excuse enough for his presence, but as much as he would like to watch Derek’s face when he sees the gift, he still hangs back.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulls the glamour away, starts the jeep, and drives to the house to park in the the driveway behind the Camaro.

Whistling because he can’t quite cover up the happy feeling blooming in his chest, Stiles lets himself into the house. The best way to describe the new Hale house is ‘cozy.’ Derek hadn’t wanted to rebuild his family home, saying it was better to let the earth heal from the tragedy. Instead he found a nice house in a quaint little cul-de-sac backed by the woods. And Stiles loves the house. He had helped Derek pick it out when they were looking for something better than a creepy loft. It has a big vegetable garden in the backyard, dark wood flooring and a gorgeous kitchen.

Sure it isn’t quite big enough for all the pack to stay in, but it’s not like they don’t end up pushing all the furniture in the basement to the side and making a big sleep pile anyway, so really who needs their own bedroom (although he has a nice study he has claimed as his own that has a pull out couch against one wall so maybe he isn’t the best person to make that call).

“Derek,” he calls as he shuts the front door. There’s a clatter from the kitchen. With a grin, Stiles heads in that direction. He is not expecting what he finds inside.

“What the hell happened!”

Derek is absolutely covered in potpie pieces. It looks like the damn thing that he worked so hard on threw up all over him which, first of all that is disgusting, but also that kind of defeats the whole purpose of making him delicious dinner in the first place. “What did you do?”

Derek’s eyebrows climb as he stares at him. It isn’t the most intimidating expression considering a pea chooses that exact moment to dislodge from his hair and roll down his face. “Someone left it on the doorstep.” His voice is measured and clipped. “It blew up.”

“It blew up?” If he sounds incredulous he can’t help it.

“I was trying to figure out who left it there, but when I got close to try and find a scent-.” He trails off, gesturing to his overall appearance.

And Stiles can’t claim it now.

Well. Scratch that plan and on to the next. There’s really no point getting upset about it. Instead, he grabs a tea towel and starts gently trying to wipe potpie out of Derek’s beard, planning all the while.

From the heart: Gift Giving

If there’s one thing that Stiles knows, it’s that everyone enjoys getting a good gift once in a while. Nothing says 'I care about you’ more than a gift from the heart. Now, Derek isn’t someone who wants for a lot. In all honesty, he lives a pretty simple life. As long as his pack is happy, then so is he.

But Stiles knows him well enough to be able to pick out a good gift. Since the pack settled down, Derek has had time to focus on the things he likes. One of those things, surprisingly, is gardening. Stiles knows that being able to coax life out of the earth makes Derek feel closer to his father, who had a big garden in the back of the Hale mansion. Being able to spend time with his own garden reminds him of his dad in ways grief can’t touch, so deciding to get him a plant is a no brainer.

And everyone in the pack can tell you that there is nothing more that Derek loves than a fresh cup of coffee to get the day started.

So the obvious choice in thoughtful presents is his own coffee plant. But actually finding one is quite difficult, and when he finally gets his hands on one, it doesn’t look great. The leaves, which were so green and lively in the pictures the seller sent, are droopy and half eaten. Instead of sending the damn thing back though, Stiles decides to infuse it with his own energy to help it grow.

As a Spark, his magic is intrinsically tied to the earth, so the process is a simple one. Settling the plant on the kitchen counter, Stiles allows himself to sink into his magic. From there it’s easy to envision the plant taking the warmth from the sun coming through the window and using it to grow.

“I feel like that’s cheating.” Stiles jumps at the interruption, turning to glare at where Isaac is leaning against the doorjamb looking entirely too smug.

“It isn’t cheating,” he defends. “And who let you in here?”

The snort that comes in response is fair considering that all the pack members have keys to each other’s houses, but Stiles doesn’t need the sass.

“I’m assuming Erica told you what I’m doing?”

He shrugs, coming further into the kitchen to gently tug on one of the plant’s leaves. “Actually, Lydia told me when we had lunch Thursday. As ridiculous as I think you’re being, I guess it’s kind of sweet too.” Coming from Isaac, that’s as good a blessing as Stiles is going to get. He preens a little at his words, and Isaac rolls his eyes. “But I still think using magic is cheating.”

“You should have saw the thing when I brought it in! Derek would have thought I got it out of the trash it looked so bad!”

“Whatever. Are you taking it to him now?”

Like with the potpie, Stiles hasn’t thought much about the delivery method. But, with the way that the dinner turned out, maybe hand delivery is the best method. “Yeah, he should be back from work so I’m going to head over there.”

Isaac grins. “I’ll come. I’m supposed to have dinner with Derek anyway.”

As much as Stiles wants to tell him no, simply because Isaac can be a snarky asshole who will take any opportunity to poke fun at Stiles just because he can, Stiles knows he can’t tell him no. That is partially because Isaac is Derek’s little brother and partially because Stiles has a soft spot for him despite the attitude. “If you say anything about the plan to Derek-.”

Isaac waves him off. “Oh please. And waste the opportunity to watch you make a fool of yourself? Never.”

Stiles would argue that he is most definitely not going to making a fool of himself, but knows it is pointless; arguing with Isaac always is. Instead he just flips him off, grabs the plant and his keys, and ushers him out the door.

The Camaro is in the driveway when they get there. Seeing it makes Stiles’ stomach turn, just like it always does. Isaac grins at him, but the expression is more fond than sassy so Stiles doesn’t say anything about it.

When they let themselves in, Derek is in the living room reading a book. He sets it aside when they walk in though, smiling up at them.

Stiles is helpless to smile back, and he probably would have forgotten the plant entirely if Isaac didn’t nudge him in the side, jostling him forward.

“Oh, hey Derek. Fine weather we’re having.”

His smile softens. Even though he definitely sees the coffee plant, he doesn’t ask about it. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice out.”

Shuffling a little closer (while ignoring Isaac’s whispered ‘wow’ at how awkward the movement is), Stiles holds out the plant. “So I uh. I got you this. I know how much you like your coffee so-,” he trails off, totally awkward.

Carefully, Derek reaches out and accepts the plant. His smile grows big and bright. “Stiles, thank you.”

Rubbing at the back of his head, he chuckles. “Yeah, uh. You’re welcome.”

“Are you going to stay for dinner? Isaac and I were going to get take out.”

When not even a little complaint comes from Isaac, Stiles knows that agreeing is a bad idea. He’s obviously plotting just how far he can get away with the underhand comments about how pathetic Stiles is. But even knowing that, Stiles still agrees. He’ll always agree with Derek, no matter how obnoxious Isaac’s smile is.

Of course, he could never have anticipated that, while they were having dinner, the plant setting proudly on the living room table would start producing coffee beans. Over and over the coffee plant goes through the life cycle of production and the fruit piles up. How the werewolves with super hearing don’t notice is impossible to say, but no-one realizes what’s happening until they flood into the kitchen.

“What are those?” Isaac asks as the little red berries roll across the floor.

“Coffee berries,” Stiles says slowly, before the implication of what’s happening dawns on him. “Oh gods.”

Isaac seems to realize it too because he starts laughing. Derek and Stiles go together to the living room to see what’s going on (Isaac stays in the kitchen because he’s laughing too hard). And there it is on the table, a sea of red surrounding it.

All Stiles can do is stare and blink at it in betrayal. This was supposed to be a foolproof plan. What happened?

“Where did you say you got this plant?” Derek doesn’t sound mad. In fact, he sounds more amused than anything else.

Stiles deflates. “Online.”

Humming, Derek wades into the living room and gently picks up the plant. As soon as the pot is pressed between his hands, it stops overproducing coffee berries. That’s when Stiles realizes what went wrong with the magic. He had been picturing Derek harvesting the little berries as he was helping it grow, and the plant picked up on his desire to make Derek happy.

“Hold this,” Derek says, transferring the pot to Stiles, who accepts it before really understanding what’s going on. “Can you tell if it was spelled?”

Stiles stares at him, blinking in confusion. “What?”

He gestures around the living room. “Well, I’ve never had a coffee plant, but I don’t think they are supposed to do this. But if you bought it online, someone might have made it do this on purpose. So?”

It would be so easy to admit that it was his fault, that he was just trying to make Derek happy and it backfired on him again. But he doesn’t want Derek to know how he keeps messing up instead of wooing him the right way.

So, closing his eyes he changes the spell enough that the plant will stay green and lively without overproducing berries. When he opens his eyes, Derek is staring at him. “Well?”

“Uh, yeah. There was some magic making it grow. I fixed it though.”

Derek scrunches his eyebrows together, shrugs, and then turns back to figure out what to do with all the berries. He doesn’t ask who would do such a thing, doesn’t say anything more about it. And Stiles is grateful he’s letting it go.

With a disappointed sigh, Stiles sets the plant aside and rolls up the sleeves of his sweater. He can still hear Isaac laughing from the kitchen, but ignores him by focusing on the plan. Whatever he does next has to be foolproof if he’s ever going to get Derek to understand what he means to him.

My body is a shield: Protect them

In Stiles’ opinion, one of the most important things a mate can do is protect their partner. After all, being strong enough to carry their burdens makes all the difference. And Stiles knows just how to show Derek that he can protect him from anything.

Despite his overall appearance and the fact that he is the literal alpha of a pack of (semi) feral werewolves, Derek is absolutely terrified of spiders. And there is something almost endearing about how nervous Derek gets when he sees a spider in the house. Every pack member has had their turn to capture the creepy crawlies and return them to the outside world.

Because that’s the thing about Derek’s fear; spiders outside? No problem. But the moment they cross the threshold into the house, the story takes a sudden turn. Which leads Stiles to his next plan: warding the house to keep the spiders out.

It’s actually a really simple job. Stiles has laid dozens of wards on the house already, weaving the spell-work together into an impressive layer of protection. So really, this one is a piece of cake.

He has to wait until Derek and the rest of the wolves are out of the house, and then he pulls on his glamour and gets to work.

The thing about magic that Stiles loves so much is that it’s all about intention. He can take everything he feels for Derek and knit it into the spell to make it stronger. And Stiles is good at emotion.

Overall, it hardly takes any time before the ward is done. Like before, he doesn’t stick around when he’s finished. Instead, with a giddy smile, he sneaks out. Unlike the potpie, the ward is a longterm gift, one that Derek probably won’t even notice. But Stiles feels good knowing that he did this little thing for him. Give it a few weeks and he’ll casually mention that there haven’t been any spiders around, explain why, and Derek will swoon knowing he put so much thought into keeping him safe.

The last thing he expects is that, three hours later while trying to finish up grocery shopping, Derek calls him and demands that he comes over right away. He’s out of breath and the fear in his voice makes Stiles’ gut clench. He abandons his cart in the middle of the aisle. When he gets to Derek’s, Kira is pulling up too, katana in hand.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Stiles asks. Kira is ready for a fight. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, expression sharp as she joins him in the yard.

“No idea. Derek just said to get here as soon as I could and bring my blade.” She gestures to the front door. “Come on. Whatever is happening, it isn’t out here.”

She takes the lead, carefully letting them into the house. It’s quiet enough that they can hear scuttling from the kitchen. With a quick nod, Kira unsheathes her weapon.

Neither of them could have been prepared for the pug sized spider casually perched on the dining room table.

“Is that a spider?” Kira grabs Stiles and puts him in front of her, peeking over his shoulder. Normally she isn’t afraid of the arachnids, but a dog sized one is a different story. All Stiles wants to know is how it got in. The ward should have -.

Wait. The ward. Did he do this?

“Kira?” Derek hollers from somewhere in the house. “Stiles?” His voice breaks off. Then, “Is it gone?”

Kira nudges him forward. “Stiles, get ride of it!” He balks at her.

“Me? You are literally carrying a sword right now. Wouldn’t you be the obvious choice to get ride of it?”

She shakes her head. “Someone had to have done something with magic to get it that big. Ergo, this is your territory.” Nudging his back again, she steps back. “Then if something goes wrong, I’ll be here to help.”

The thing is, Stiles knows that she’s right. Heck, she doesn’t even know how right she is about magic being involved. Because as he scoots closer to the table, he knows that this was definitely his fault. Instead of keeping the spiders out, his ward made them bigger. And he doesn’t know why, but he knows that’s what happened.

The spider doesn’t really do anything as he approaches. It turns in a lazy circle, as if confused about seeing the world from such a different angle. Closing his eyes, Stiles raises his hands and reaches out with his magic. It’s pretty easy after that to strip the spell away, like pulling a blanket off the bed. Because it was his magic that caused the growth spurt in the first place, it is even easier because all he is doing is returning the magic to himself.

When he opens his eyes, the spider is once again the size of penny. Kira, the valiant warrior, edges around him to scoop it off the table and take it outside. A few minutes later, Derek enters the kitchen. He must have been in the middle of exercising when the spider came in because he’s wearing gym shorts and a tank-top. The sight of his legs makes Stiles weak in the knees.

“Thank you,” he says in a small voice. Stiles hates himself for being the cause of it. This whole wooing thing is a disaster.

“What happened?” Kira asks after locking the backdoor.

Derek sighs. “I don’t know. I think-. I think maybe I’m cursed?” It comes out as a question but it’s clear that Derek believes it. “The other day someone put this potpie on the porch. I brought it in, and it exploded in my face. Then Stiles bought a coffee plant and magic made it overproduce berries, but only after it was brought into my house. And now someone has spelled spiders to grow and invade. I think that someone’s out for the pack again.”

Stiles can feel himself blanch. “Oh my gods.”

Derek sighs. “I know it isn’t something that anyone wants to hear, but we can face whatever’s coming. So far it’s only been-.”

“It was me!” Kira and Derek stare at Stiles like he’s lost his mind.

“What?”

Scrubbing at his face, Stiles realizes that this has gone too far. Sure, he wanted to be able to woo Derek to make him realize how he felt about him, but now he thinks he’s cursed.

What a disaster. Erica and Lydia were right.

As if sensing what kind of conversation this is going to be, Kira slowly backs out of the kitchen and leaves them alone.

After they hear her car drive off, Stiles sighs.

It’s time to be honest.

+1. Be vulnerable

“It’s my fault that all of this happened. I was-. I was trying to give you gifts and do things that would make you happy, but for some reason the magic went wrong. The potpie was a recipe that Boyd gave me. He said it was your favorite, so I made it for you. I used some magic to make the design on the top, but for some reason, it exploded. I didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen, let alone that it would!” He starts pacing, unable to look Derek in the eyes anymore. “And with the plant, I didn’t lie when I said I bought it online. But when I got it, it looked so bad! I thought that I could use magic to make it healthy again, but the spell went sideways. I was thinking about how happy it was going to make you when it started growing, and it thought that was what I wanted it to do for you. I’m not exactly sure what the hell happened with the spiders. The ward was supposed to keep them out, not turn them pet-sized!”

“Stiles!” He stops his pacing, turning to glance at where Derek is still watching him. He looks so confused, and Stiles hates it. “Why? I mean, I appreciate that you were trying to give me gifts, but I don’t really understand why?”

“Iwastryingtowooyou,” he says quickly, staring down at his shoes. When Derek doesn’t say anything, Stiles chances a glance up at him. If his widened eyes are anything to go by, then he heard him. Here goes nothing. “I wanted to finally take a chance and show you how much I liked you by proving to you I would make a good mate. But it kept going wrong. And now you think you’re cursed and-.”

Derek steps into his space, cutting off Stiles’ rambling. Gently he reaches out, running the back of his finger against Stiles’ cheek. “Stiles.” His voice is breathy and awed, and Stiles watches as a huge grin makes his eyes bright. He gulps.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Laughing, Derek presses their foreheads together. “Why would I be mad?Just-. Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt?”

Stiles blushes, trying to extract himself from Derek’s grip in embarrassment. Derek holds tight. “I don’t know how you feel about me. I thought that if I could prove to you that I could make a good partner, you might consider dating me. But I didn’t want to make things weird by being upfront about it. And-. Well, I thought it would be really nice to do things for you that would show you how I feel.”

Derek laughs again and it is a happy sound. “Stiles, I’ve been in love with you for years.” This time when Stiles pulls back in shock, Derek lets him leave the circle of his arms. There is a cute blush on his face, but his eyes are sure and determined. “I thought maybe you felt the same, but couldn’t bring myself to actually ask in case I was reading the signs wrong. I thought maybe when we went to the Star Wars show I could tell you how I feel. But,” he shrugs, finally breaking eye contact to glance down at his feet, “I guess you beat me to it.”

The thing is, he sounds so happy about it. Like exploding potpies, overproducing coffee plants and massive spiders are the epitome of romance.

And Stiles isn’t going to waste anymore time. Reaching out, Stiles grabs the bottom of Derek’s top to reel him him. The first kiss misses its mark, landing on the edge of Derek’s jaw. But after some fumbling, Derek manages to rearrange their limbs and presses a hard kiss to his lips.

The energy surge that hits Stiles pops all the lightbulbs in the kitchen, showering glass down around them. But Derek just laughs and kisses him again, ignoring the mess.

“Be my boyfriend,” Stiles gasps as Derek trails featherlight kisses down the side of his neck. Using the hand curled possessively at the back of his head, Derek looks up enough to meet his stare.

“On one condition.” He presses a kiss to both of Stiles’ cheeks and at this point Stiles would agree to anything if it kept them here together. “Fix the ward and I’m all yours.”

Stiles croaks out a laugh and makes the promise. That is one act of wooing he will make sure he gets right.

#rosalinesbenvolio #stereksanta22 #*fic22 #*gifts22

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samithefungus · 1 year

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So, my friend and I were talking, and I don't know how we got to talking about the fact that if a teacher in dhmis was a "wooden puppet" (like the ones you can see during fairs that entertain children) it would be a really cool thing.

We thought it could teacher the main characters something about entertainment (like dancing, singing, acting, playing an instrument, etc.).

After this conversation I was so inexplicably intrigued by this teacher that I decided to draw it myself (even though I'm not I'm not so good at drawing)

Here is the final result:

(Feel free to redraw her and other things; just tag me).

Her name is "Dolcenera" because while I was drawing her I was listening to Fabrizio de André songs (I think only Italians could understand).

Anyway she is the entertainment teacher (it's horrible, but I don't know what else to call her).

I also imagined her with a slight Italian cadence, because she reminded me the wooden puppets my grandfather used to bring from Sicily.

I also have other headcanons about her:

-She moves like a real wooden puppet, as if someone is commanding her through strings.

-It is not known for certain where her strings are attached.

-She has a damaged eye and sometimes it closes or stays open without her will

-She cannot make facial expressions (because of her mouth), so you can tell her mood by looking at the position of her eyes (or her good eye) or by the tone of her voice

-She is much taller than Yellow and Duck, but shorter than Red.

So far these are it, if you would like to let me know some of your headcanons about her (or just your opinions) I would love to <3

I also imagined what her 'episode' might be like:

There are the three main characters in the living room and they are watching a Show on TV.

At one stretch Duck says, "You know, if we did something like that we would already be rich."

Red replies, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if we were actors we would be paid just to entertain people, that would be easy money wouldn't it?"

At this point Dolcenera appears and says, "This your statement is wrong for two reasons; entertainment is not just acting, then it is not easy, you need the passion that runs through your veins."

"All lies!" says Duck.

Then Dolcenera replies, "Come with me, I will teach you the true way of entertainment."

Then Dolcenera takes the trio to a theater and looking at them says, "Each of you must find your talent, and I am here to help."

Then she starts singing (imagine a song) trying to give singing, dancing and acting lessons to the three, but failing

When the song ends, Yellow can be heard giving a trumpet solo (as in episode 2 of season 2).

Dolcenera is amazed and leaves the other two to focus on Yellow

"This sound, this harmony; would you like to stay here for a while, I want you to cultivate this talent" Dolcenera says.

The other two decide that it's not a bad idea to leave Yellow there, since Dolcenera seems kind and not dangerous.

Duck is a little upset, because he would have liked to be the "star" and that's why he keeps complaining to Red.

Meanwhile, Yellow is practicing his trumpet on the theater stage, when all of a sudden Dolcenera approaches and starts tying strings to him.

"What are they?" Yellow asks.

"Strings, like mine, will bring you luck!" Dolcenera replies sweetly.

"Oh, okay, thank you!" Says Yellow and then continues to practice his trumpet.

"You'll be the star of the show" Dolcenera then says quietly.

Meanwhile, it had become evening and Red and Duck began to worry, not seeing Yellow come home, so they went back to the theater to pick him up.

As soon as they entered the theater they saw Yellow on stage, but as they got closer and closer they noticed that his figure looked very wooden, then they noticed the strings and realized...he had turned into a wooden puppet.

Red and Duck climb onto the stage and go to Yellow.

"Guys, you also came for take part in the show," says Yellow.

"No, you idiot, we came to take you away, can't you see what that evil puppet did to you!!!" Says Duck

"I'm sorry, but he's not leaving; he's the star" Says Dolcenera appearing behind Duck and Red "but you can stay; the audience would love you"

"No, we don't want turn into wooden puppets!!!" Duck replies

"That was not a request!" Says Dolcenera and then the lights went out.

Red and Duck start running in the dark trying to find the exit.

At one point Red is caught by something that drags him away

"Red, where are you? This is no time for pranks!" Says Duck.

At that moment Duck was standing under the stage, when the spotlights come on aiming at Red and Yellow, who are tied with strings and completely transformed into wooden puppets

"Join us, the show is almost started!" Repeat the two

"NEVER!!!" Says Duck

At this point Duck is caught by Wooden Red, but by rebelling in his grasp he manages to break his strings.

Red returns to normal and begins to help Duck break the strings that bind Yellow

"DON'T TOUCH MY STAR!!!" Dolcenera screams

Duck jumps on her and after some fighting manages to break the strings that were holding her.

Dolcenera falls to the ground and can't move anymore, at the same time Yellow's strings also break and he returns normal.

Then the three return home and stand in the living room watching TV.

"You know, I think the world of entertainment is not for us" says Duck.

"I agree" Red replies.

"I don't want to play the trumpet again in my life!!!" says Yellow.

And then the episode ends.

Honestly I really like this Oc that I created, but mostly her story and I tried my best to write it well.

Hope you liked it. <3

#don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis #dhmis original character #dhmis oc #original character #oc

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pod-together · 2 years

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Day 1 Reveals!

Soft as Memory, Strong as Wood (Jewish Scripture & Legend) written by Hagar, performed by eafay70 Summary: She doesn’t age, and she doesn’t die. Your hands have work still, her sister D’vora says. We are His Hands, The Prophet Eliyahu says. And millenia down the line, Yael is still walking the Earth. High Note (Miraculous Ladybug) written by BookGirlFan, performed by Cathalinareads On Breaking Free [text, audio] (Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling) written by Cannibalschism, performed by UnholyCrowley Summary: It's Sixth Year and Harry has found an unlikely passion in Wizard's Chess. At first, it was simply a way to hang out with his mates during class, but it became so much more. It became a quiet drive, a little flame that bloomed brightly in the cold. And the best part? No one got hurt. No one died. It's Sixth Year and Draco is one year closer to being done with this wretched place. Hogwarts feels like a carcass rotting around him. There is decay in every wall. The Chess Tournament was little more than a checkbox to be ticked on Draco's lengthy and exhaustive list of meaningless triumphs that served no purpose in the real world. What did any of this matter anyway? A Refined Palate (The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by crawfishing, performed by gracicah Summary: Statement of Orin Pollygaster regarding a culinary retreat he attended and his subsequent experiences. Original statement given June 24th, 2009. Audio recording by Lexus Wright, assistant archivist at the Magnus Institute, Birmingham branch. Archivist's note: I was unable to categorize this statement according to the list of entities described by Head Archivist of the London branch, Mr. Jonathan Sims. I can't bring myself to dismiss it as fraudulent, though, or even as irrelevant. Who is this Peri Shereen? Or... what is she? guilty (The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by Lua, performed by mistbornhero Summary: These days, things are different. These days, things are exactly the same. One way or another, Jon watches. summer in snow (Friends at the Table (Podcast)) written by Verso, performed by lady_mab Summary: Some time after Belgard's death, Signet returns to her Divine partner's body to tell her the story of the child that Signet used to be, wondering at unexpected winter on Thyrsus. History Hardcore, Ep 69: The Argentum Tapes (Final Fantasy XV) written by nonplussed, performed by youhaveahomeinmyheart Summary: The History Hardcore radio show, episode 69: The Argentum Tapes. The Argentum Tapes are a collection of recordings that appear to have been taken over a period of five weeks in M.E. 756, almost a century ago. They are a rare first-person account of the travels and private interactions of King Noctis and his Royal Retainers, and have helped historians shed some much-needed light on this great, but famously reclusive, historical figure. In this episode, we share a few of these recordings, and discuss their historical significance in greater depth. (Transcript available) Five Steps to Forever (방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS) written by celli, performed by knight_tracer Summary: Namjoon opened his mouth, then closed it and opened it again. He looked a little like a fish. A cute fish, but a fish. Jungkook tried not to giggle; Operation Date Namjoon wasn’t going to get anywhere if he let his inner fourteen year old take control. Lie To Me (Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types) written by TsarinaTorment, performed by stereden Summary: Luke loves camp. Luke betrayed them. It should be impossible for both of those things to be true, but somehow they were. Mirage Arcane (Critical Role (Web Series)) written by sabinelagrande, performed by blackglass Summary: A group of adventurers go on a quest. Probably not the ones you're thinking of. Lock-In Amp (Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types) written by adiduck, performed by AirgiPodSLV, blackglass, CassieIngaben, ffg_podfics, Flowerparrish, GoLBCollabs, kittona, mistbornhero, Opalsong, Tipsy_Kitty, and with Summary: The timestamp in the corner of the screen ticks on from 01:24:03 to :04 to :05, until the minute switches to 25—a total of fifty-seven seconds.The guards hold their position, motionless, until the Guard on the right slumps just a little further, elbow slipping off the desk. He flails and barely catches himself on the edge of the table. The Guard on the left jumps and hauls his helmet off. He turns and appears to be spitting invectives at the Guard on the right. The right-hand Guard appears to be about to reply— —and then they both freeze and turn to face the camera, body language changing like a switch has flipped. The left-hand Guard jams his helmet back on his head as the first pulls a blaster, and a third clone steps into frame—helmetless, in plain white plastoid armor, both hands up and weaponless. As he walks forward, a tattoo in the shape of a number five just barely shows on his temple.

#podfic #fanfic #star wars #critical role #percy jackson #bts #final fantasy xv #friends at the table #the magnus archives #harry potter #miraculous ladybug #jewish scripture & legend

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sparksandstars · 2 years

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“Wait. What?” Pokkle looked confused. His eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t tell if if was mad.

“Yeah. I want to be a beast hunter too.” You looked up at him.

“Well sheesh, you should have told me earlier!” His face brighten up.

“Then we should get going.”

He looked to the horizon squinting his eyes a little. A smile appeared on his face. He took a deep breath and looked back to you.

“Hm. You think you’re ready to go?”

You couldn’t believe it. He agreed. He would let you join. The risk was worth it. Truly it was.

“Yes, just one second.” You stood up.

“Hey, hey not so fast!”

He held your hand and placed his hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t one for personal space, you guessed. You weren’t opposed to it. The rapid speeding of you heart and the flush you got in your cheeks, told you such.

“You look like your gonna pass out.!”

He was right of course. You couldn’t see well, there was stars in your vision. Blotches of black, and blue. The light was only hurting your eyes. The sharp pain in the left side of your face right next to your eyebrow only a little higher, which was gradually spreading. Signaled only that’s something was about to happen. It wasn’t gonna be good.

“I guess we’ll have to wait, and go to a hotel instead.”

“No! I’m ok- I pro-promise.”

“Yea ok soooo we’re DEFINITELY going to a hotel.” Under his breath he muttered.-

“Or a hospital.”

You heard him but decided not to say anything. You just needed some rest right?

Walking to the nearest hotel, he grabbed you hand the whole way. The way a prince might hold a princess’s hand to drag her into a dance. He was quite short but it only added to his cuteness. You wanted to gave him the world but hoped your love was enough. You shook your head by the third block. Why were you thinking theses things? You weren’t together! You barely even spoken to this man. That’s when the reality sunk in. You had gone off with virtually a stranger. A stranger heading to a hotel... at least the gang knows who you went off with, that eased your mind.

Walking into the hotel lobby. Pokkle did all the talking, you sluggishly stood by him. Wanting just to pass out right than and there. You climbed the stairs hoping it would help you feel energized. Why did you think of this? Pokkle wasn’t going to let you show him up. So he ran up the stairs.

“Don’t push yourself to hard~!” In that teasing tone of his.

You got to the door, swung it open with the last of your strength. You wanted to give Pokkle a challenge, really you did, but running seemed alien to you at the moment. Like you would have to learn it all over again. The ringing in your ears replaces with the sound of his bag being dropped on the bed.

“So do you want water?” He asked

“Yeah that sounds really good.”

You said flatly. No energy could be used at this point. You hadn’t even closed the door behind you, you just stood making no movement. He noticed he led you to the closest bed. You sat down.

“I’ll be right back, you rest ok.” He said so kindly.

You listened. You covered yourself with the white blankets as you laid down. Staring at the ceiling you could hear Pokkle move around. You heard as he closed the door, you redundantly left open. He moved to your side quickly. He tried to not make a sound. He handed you a glass of cool water. You reached for it, presses it to your lips. Then thought of tonpa. You had made fun of the boys for almost drinking it.

“You don’t drink or eat things random strangers give you. Thats how you end up dead.”

That statement ringed in your ear.

Btw I’m assuming Pokkle’s age is 16 I saw it online Sooo.... it must be real/s but yea Pokkle’s 16 in my story. ❤️

#pokkle x reader #pokkle hxh #part 2 Pokkle #part 2 #Pokkle x y/n #hunter x hunter #hxh #hotel prompt

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year

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"Two-Man Moralty Squad Finds Windsor Quite Good," Windsor Star. January 13, 1943. Page 5. ---- City Isn't Prudish But Errs Little --- Police Enforce Laws; Hope Beer Shortage, 'Holy' Toronto Won't Force Relapse -- By JEROME HARTFORD Far off fields, particularly on the moral plain, may look blacker, especially when one views the scene from Toronto and gazes through stained glasses that are not in church windows in the direction of Windsor, but those in charge of law enforcement on the local front say the situation is not nearly as black as it is painted.

"There are no women wandering into men's beverage rooms in Windsor," asserted Sergeant Alec Innes, chief of the Windsor police department's "morality squad," when asked to comment on a recent Toronto statement to this effect. "Men and women do mingle in our hotel dining rooms. They even dance together sometimes. Possibly that is shocking-depending. I suppose, on one's point of view.

"THIS IS WINDSOR" "If we say, "This is Windsor… we're not making allowances for a low-er level of morals," stressed Sergeant Innes. "We are merely saying that we don't say 'Shame! Shame! You're having a glass of beer and I can see you! in Windsor. We crack down here when there's an infraction of the law and the record will show that we crack down hard."

The record would seem to bear out the sergeant's claims for Windsor.

There is not a single big-time gambling den operating in town. There are only about 15 small-time cigar-store "bookies" left in action. Houses of ill-fame are being systematically gone after and have decreased in numbers greatly in the past two years. "Blind pigs." which during prohibition days were plentiful here, are fairly numerous but are not out of hand. Hotels are closely watched, and their most serious infractions have been selling beer after hours. Occasionally, the hotels sell drinks of liquor to patrons whom they know well. This is seldom done openly for the consequences are too severe.

For a border town next door to one of America's largest and most cosmopolitan cities, that is not a bad record in wartime. Compared with what it is alleged to be by Toronto, it is nearly perfect, in the opinion of local authorities.

FEAR BEER SHORTAGE "Our worst problem is going to come when the government cuts off the beer supply," stated Sergeant Innes. "Then we're really going to have a headache."

"Windsor's blind pigs are fast running out of supplies," said the sergeant. "I've checked the local malt stores and there isn't enough malt available to allow for a swing back to home-brew. What we're going to get is the old-time still. You can make liquor out of anything from peanuts to potatoes if you have to. If these people haven't got any real liquor to sell. they're going to peddle that stuff. Then watch out."

Toronto would seem to suggest that workers do not need alcoholic refreshment, Sergeant Innes was reminded.

"Toronto's problems are Toronto's," replied the morality-squad head. "I am only interested in Windsor's. I know that men coming off those shifts in the war plants at midnight want a beer or two before going home. Our job is to see that they don't get it after hours. It's a bit of a problem. We'll settle it our way and trust that it's the right way. There aren't any wide-open pigs' today the way there were in the prohibition days. Let's hope they won't be thrust upon us.

"If there are, we'll just have to in- crease our squad," concluded Sergeant Innes.

Increase Windsor's morality squad? Besides Sergeant Innes, the squad consists of Constable Bill Brand. That's right, two men. Isn't Windsor wicked?

#windsor #vice squad #regulation of morality #moonshining #moonshiners #beer rationing #illegal gambling #circulation of surveillance #moral crimes #windsor police #canada during world war 2 #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

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chaotic-tired-cat · 7 months

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trick or treat!!!

Happy Halloween, Anon!!!

The closest I have to a Halloween special is a series of snippets I kind of wandered into writing, but they seem pretty fitting! These are from World Walker: Aftershocks, which is really a bunch of scenes made to figure out where the characters are going to end up.

This involves no World Walker or canon bnha spoilers, and is very sparsely edited. DimensionTravel!Izuku hunts ghosts with this background character below the cut, inspired by Buzzfeed Unsolved, YUTS, and Game Changer. Interviewer OCs are named Ran, Myuki, Kaito, and Tatsuya. Cryptid's PR guy is named Dai.

Tw: ghosts and related topics.

Cryptid ducks under the doorway.

Ran visibly falters.

Cryptid's agency did all of the communication with them, supposedly because Cryptid himself is a workaholic who handles emergencies not just here, but also wherever else he disappears to. He also has a tendency to choose interviews near emergencies that unfold in a predictable future for him and a horrible surprise for everyone else, so apparently it's safer for everyone involved if he makes his own patrol schedule for the agency to work around. Dai from PR was lovely to talk to. They have no complaints.

But Dai from PR neglected to mention exactly what Cryptid is like in person. Cameras glitch out occasionally and secondhand accounts grow either poetic or lack detail, so they had no real warning about this. Tatsuya is abruptly aware that the fanart is perhaps more accurate than photos of this hero, which would be funny if he were able to breathe right now.

Cryptid looks horrifying.

Unseen wind stirs green hair. His dark costume highlights the fact that his shadow pulls an echo of stars up from the floorboards, and the sharp teeth of his smile that forces his mouth open slightly. When he looks at them, a galaxy rests in his eyes.

He steps forward. There is something distinctly unnatural in the way those joints move.

Ran audibly inhales through her teeth.

The next step is better, then the next. Cryptid's back straightens and his mouth closes into something more human. The stars and eerie presence are packaged away, folded up and tucked into the hero like a coat left at the door. It makes being affected by an unfelt wind and possessing odd-bright eyes feel like any other quirk.

"Hello," Cryptid says kindly, stopping a fair distance away, which is greatly appreciated. He tucks his hands behind his back, posture unthreatening. "Are you Ran?"

"Yeah," she gulps. "Um. Your agency said we should do an interactive interview with you?"

"Dai has been very accommodating," Cryptid agrees serenely. "And the void stops screaming at me when it thinks I'm busy."

"Oh?" Ran asks, voice pitched just a touch higher than normal, but she's too good an interviewer to let that leading statement go. "What do you mean?"

"There's a version of me trying to swallow the sky in another universe, and the void wants me to watch." Cryptid gestures, shoulders now hunched to communicate lack of threat. "But moving around will help convince it that I'm busy, so I really do appreciate you all changing so much of your schedule to make this work."

"It's no problem," Ran says. Ironclad control returns, one of the reasons she was chosen for this activity. "I have a list of pre-interview topics here. Anything else you want to talk about or avoid can be added to the paperwork, and we will be including your agency in the editing process whenever your quirk is discussed."

Tatsuya continues unpacking equipment as Cryptid irons out their details.

They have two guests on the game show today. Both heroes were on their list of candidates, but after hearing Cryptid's situation, an idea was pitched. Adding in Exorcism: the Ghost Hero to this was a stroke of genius. It'll make an amazing special.

Onemu Shinya waits by the car, discussing things with her own interview team of Miyuki and Kaito.

Six people, two of which are heroes. Three, gods help them, are thrill-seekers. Tatsuya was the only person in the office who saw bargaining power for what it was when the crew was short one member. They are paying him a lot to film and make snarky commentary behind the camera. Life is good.

Neither of the heroes know what the schedule holds.

Then again, they probably know it'll be odd. Burnt Honest Tea sits halfway between a game show and news organization due to hiring more actors and comedians than journalists. Everyone here has some kind of past in the entertainment district. The employee-owned business model is a wreck. They do comedy. Humor. A little gossip, when it's lighthearted and everyone involved is fine with it getting aired, but that’s a rare one. Celebrity guests are more likely to get dumped in a room full of puppies than interviewed from an armchair.

They figured out a while ago that since heroes have licenses for public quirk use, they could hire a bunch of weirdos to conduct interviews in the most extreme places possible. This is legally and logistically a nightmare. Crucially, it also sells really well because nobody else is willing to make a whole business around that model.

It takes a while for set-up to finish, and the heroes are brought to the front of the eerie brick building. It likely has been abandoned for longer than anyone here has been alive.

Probably.

Their two guests are odd enough that Tatsuya cant help but suspect otherwise. He suggested the question during one of the meetings and got shot down, though.

The two heroes wait patiently by the door as set up finishes.

Cameras and mics checked, lights on, introductions finished, and ground rules reiterated.

Filming starts.

“So what are we doing?” Exorcist asks, and Tatsuya winces preemptively. She has to suspect they’re going-

"Ghost hunting," Ran says.

Exorcism closes her eyes, and Cryptid nods thoughtfully before sticking his entire arm into a circle of blazing starlight. He pulls out a pair of gloves, and tugs off his own, revealing what looks like tattoos underneath.

Exorcism sighs, eyes still closed. "You can punch ghosts now, can't you?"

"I can punch ghosts," Cryptid agrees sagely as he puts on the new gloves, then holds up a cautious hand. "...Will it launch your soul out of your body if you touch these?"

Exorcism high-fives him.

"Guess not."

Tatsuya just knows today is going to be great.

"Hello," Cryptid says to the hallway, exactly as he greeted Ran earlier. It makes the underlying message clearer - don't be scared, I will not harm you, I know I am frightening and promise not to move too fast or speak too loudly. "I don't have any dominion over life and death, but we can speak if you'd like."

"You're very kind," Exorcism tells him with a pat to the back, then stomps past him into the hallway with Kaito and Miyuki on her heels. "Hey, ghosts! If you got a problem, now's the time to speak up!"

Unearthly screeching fills the building.

"Get their ass," Cryptid says, completely straight-faced. A door slams down the hall, and Kaito screams. Cryptid looks more alarmed at the scream than the haunted door.

"Hey, friend!" Exorcism yells in the same instant. "Ooh, you've got vibes. Where's that shirt from? It's cute."

"So," Cryptid says as he turns to Ran and Tatsuya, "shall we?"

"This was such a mistake," Tatsuya says. Ran shoots him a look that disagrees, and he zooms in on it just to be petty.

Exorcism considers the door, then turns to the empty space to her left with a raised eyebrow. She's gone a little translucent.

"Sure," she tells the patch of air. Then, "this is your local service announcement; big noise incoming."

"Go for it," Cryptid says distractedly as he pokes at a ratty, bug-infested curtain. It blocks off a corner of secrets Tatsuya has zero interest in. He is, unfortunately, the only person to feel this way. Ran gestures at him. It's a loving one. The kind that implies she will kill him in his sleep if he misses whatever bullshit their local Wikipedia-classified cryptid is about to pull.

It's fine. He's not in charge of filming Exorcism.

That hero is busy counting down her big noise out loud. It's very appreciated. Tatsuya has plenty of time to brace, so the abrupt crash of wooden planks is almost comfortable. He gives it a three-count before glancing back.

Exorcism tosses aside a piece of the door she just kicked in. She turns around to scan them all for injuries, with only a glance into the whole new room of horrors she just uncorked for their miserable little field trip. Then again, she's a hero known to get information from ghosts. This is her home turf.

Tatsuya flinches when Kaito lurches back from the broken doorway, face ashen.

Exorcism pauses.

She leans back, peering inside for a second assessment of whatever she unleashed.

"Hm," she says, fully awake for the very first time. Tatsuya's stomach flips upside-down.

"What's up?" Cryptid asks over from where he's placing a line of ginger candies under the most cursed piece of furniture to ever exist. Tatsuya isn't the faintest bit religious, superstitious, or even faintly curious about these kinds of things, but even he knows that broken chair has some seriously bad vibes. If they set an apple on it, that fruit would definitely rot in seconds. It is extremely unnerving. Ran hovers over Cryptid's shoulder as the hero happily arranges some kind of offering, torn between her own curiosity and nausea.

"This isn't mine to deal with," Exorcism says, brushing a hand over the wall. The shadows under her hand glitch out in real-time and is honestly the weirdest thing Tatsuya has seen in his life.

He holds his camera steady and exchanges a look with Kaito. Miyuki wanders over to serenely hold up what looks to be a Geiger counter. The little box ticks in a slow but uneven little pattern until she presses it to the wall.

The ticking turns slightly chime-like, then stops.

Tatsuya is fairly sure this isn't supposed to happen, but his science knowledge levels out at baking soda and vinegar. Miyuki, who has the kind of brain that saw her through engineering at Waseda until she decided it didn't spark joy, looks personally affronted.

"Ah," Cryptid says, hesitantly approaching. "Yeah, that'd be me. Thanks for catching it."

Tatsuya is very nervous about how Cryptid seems to be using Exorcism as a meat shield against the wall, until he notices that Cryptid isn't actually avoiding the wall at all.

Miyuki, with her massive brainpower, picks up on the source of his nerves as well. It's probably easier for her, since she seems to be the epicenter.

She looks at the dead silent box she is currently pressing into the wall.

The wall shivers hypnotically.

"Don't," Cryptid murmurs. It's unclear who he's talking to. "I did not make a deal with you to punch ghosts so you could-"

Exorcist swipes the box from Miyuki and tosses it to Cryptid, who yelps, fumbles, and catches it. The freshly returned ticking halts the second he has both hands on it. Instead, there's just one, constant, note.

Like a dial tone.

Cryptid stares at it in betrayal.

"Uh, so-" Ran clears her throat. "Are you doin' alright, buddy?"

"I am feeling very grateful for those NDAs," is all Cryptid says. "Um. Anyway. This is normal?"

He doesn't sound very sure.

"Kid," Exorcism sighs.

"It's completely expected," Cryptid hisses at her desperately.

"I'm drinking buddies with Eraser," Exorcism says, and Cryptid seems to deflate.

"Okay, so it might be normal but I honestly stopped trying to track what my quirk changes about me when I was so much shorter than this." Cryptid sighs, dial-tone box now clutched to his chest. It seems to be making the screaming note almost musical in an unearthly way. The realization of how that noise is shaping into an echo of a heartbeat raises hair on the back of Tatsuya's neck.

"That's messed up," Kaito tells him gently. "Aren't heroes supposed to be really good at using their quirks?"

Cryptid snorts. "That is a very long discussion nobody here except maybe Exorcism would enjoy having. Let's just say my quirk is the ability to skydive through an Old God, but testing limits weakens the barrier between my existence and its control?"

Exorcism pats him on the shoulder, and something like understanding seems to pass between them.

Something breaks in the room behind Tatsuya.

Every single member of their unfortunate little filming party is in this room, along with both their heroes.

"Let's go meet the neighbors," Exorcism decides, and leader her two adrenaline junkies away. It leaves Tatsuya in this room with his local cryptid and bad influence. Ran, despite getting them all into this mess of an interview, jumps slightly when Exorcism yells, "hey, friend!" loud enough to be heard through the wall.

Cryptid seems more interested in the fact that his cursed little offering has disappeared from the chair. Ran huddles after him.

"You are so weird," Tatsuya tells the hero gently.

"Yeah, well." Cryptid shrugs and pats Ran's white knuckles, which are currently clenched in his costume jacket. "Unknowable things aren't bad. Humans fear them, because a problem without definition is a problem that can't be controlled."

The way he says it separates them into two groups - humans, and whatever he is - which inspires the same curiosity Tatsuya feels when looking down from a cliff or skyscraper window. He can appreciate the danger mere inches away. He also wants to toss a paper plane at it.

"That's not how any of this works," Exorcism says through a yawn as she steps back through the broken-down door. The onmyouji pauses, noticing Ran breathing through her adrenaline. "Sorry, are you okay? Yes? Okay, just let us know."

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Cryptid murmurs as he pats the interviewer's shoulder. "We can go-"

"No," Ran interrupts in a wheeze. "I am having the time of my life. Let's keep rolling."

"Adrenaline junkie," Kaito says from the doorway, despite being sheet-white and grinning like a lunatic.

Cryptid and Exorcism exchange a look.

"You'll tell us the moment any of you want out," Cryptid says to the four of them. It's not a request so much as an order. "We're not going any further until I know everyone is completely fine with this."

A chorus or agreement rises, and Exorcism yawns.

"You were saying something," Ran says, once again showing that she's the only one here actually trained to host anything. "About how Cryptid is wrong about the nature of unknown things?"

Exorcism pauses, visibly trying to recall. "I was. Yeah. Basically, we fear what we don't understand for a very good reason."

"Doesn't mean you can't make a home out of it," Cryptid says.

"Are you not human?" Tatsuya asks, because it feels like they skipped over that little comment implying he isn't.

"In the way you're asking? Yeah. I was born human, I register to call-response quirk users, and I am capable of passing DNA tests in the right circumstances. In the way that matters-" Cryptid shrugs. "No. I'm a loophole."

Delightful.

That explains nothing.

"Could you explain what a loophole means in this context?" Ran asks. Miyuki smiles at her in a way that says, I could kiss you for keeping us on topic right now.

Blood runs down the wall.

"Huh," Cryptid says, completely unbothered by the many people now clinging to him. "That is one way to decorate. A bit too much red for me, personally, but it would look great in a children's hospital."

"Oh my God," Kaito garbles.

Exorcism muffles a yawn and pats him on the shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Kaito creaks. Cryptid takes their elbows and leads them to a very dusty chair, where he starts talking them through a breathing exercise. It works, and Tatsuya keeps his camera on the very haunted painting everyone seems to be ignoring.

"It's good that we brought heroes," Miyuki says serenely.

Cryptid pauses as he tries to figure out what to say to that, which gives Exorcism time to be distracted by the blood dripping down a wall from inside the picture frame. Tatsuya turns his camera just in time to catch her place both hands on the wet red wood, lean in, and lick that nasty, dust-clumped, haunted blood. She makes a face at what he guesses is the flavor, then walks right out the door.

Her team follows, hopefully to ask her what in the world she was just thinking. Ran watches them leave from the door. This is great until it leaves him with Cryptid and a bleeding painting.

"Oh, that's funny," Cryptid says under his breath. He claws open a section of thin air through the painting. Tatsuya's camera glitches at the bright-dark void, but Cryptid casually leans out to inspect something on the other side. Plastic crinkles. He tugs something out, stuffs it in his pocket, and pats something that sounds like fabric.

The air to his left starts bleeding.

Just.

The air.

Dripping red.

It falls to the ground since there's nothing for the liquid to cling to, leaving Tatsuya very freaked out by the spontaneous puddle of red on the floor.

"UH," Tatsuya says, then has to shove at Ran before she can poke it.

Cryptid laughs a little, in a quiet way that's oddly reassuring. Nobody laughs like that when they're panicked. "We're very safe. That one wasn't a ghost."

This is not helpful news. Well, it is helpful in that it's good content, but Tatsuya is beginning to wonder if he's really being paid enough to witness this.

"So, what are you doing?" Ran asks. Cryptid clicks his tongue at whatever he's seeing, then moves a bit to the side so Ran can sidle up next to him and also lean out. She turns a little green but bravely stays put.

"Spring cleaning," Cryptid says. "It's really rude to litter in the void, but sometimes this happens anyway. So I'll just-"

He moves as if wiping something outside the portal, and the patch of spontaneous blood dumps a full bucket onto this already haunted floor.

Ran reaches back blindly, and Tatsuya reluctantly takes her place. Cryptid, blessedly, does not notice Ran trying to get Tatsuya and his camera to the portal. He shuts it the second she's out. Tatsuya can't help but feel a little relieved at being spared the burden of witnessing whatever Ran saw.

He likes not knowing, sometimes.

Ran fixes this by turning to him with very wide eyes and saying, "there was, I Kid you not, a wall of fabric, and so many stars. He found blood on the fabric and shoved it in, and it was like it wanted? To go?"

"Do you need to sit down?" Cryptid asks her gently.

"I saw the void, and it had so much shit in it," Ran tells Tatsuya and his camera. Cryptid very gently takes one of the hands she's gesturing with and pats it to catch her attention.

"It is very big," Cryptid agrees serenely. Ran frantically points at the painting, which has stopped dripping.

"Big," she repeats. "Big is small compared to whatever that was."

Tatsuya nervously shifts.

"It is also an ecosystem," Cryptid continues, slow and calm. "What you saw is no different than a forest, or the ocean. It is a perfectly natural part of the way things work, just a part you weren't aware of."

"There was nothing natural about that," Ran hisses.

"Pigeons make milk," Cryptid says, which- what? The unexpected announcement has Ran startling right out of her existential crisis. "There are species of jellyfish so rare they've only been caught on camera once. There's a river in England that looks like a brook from the top, but is so narrow and deep that putting a foot in would suck you right down. Many strange things exist in the world that you have not discovered yet. This does not make them wrong, or bad. It does also not invalidate your experience with them if anyone chooses to believe what you have experienced does not exist. Okay?"

Ran stares at him.

Cryptid meets her eyes steadily. "You are right about what you saw, no matter what people may try to tell you. And you are not alone in your knowledge of it. Everything is working as it should."

Ran keeps staring at him, until Cryptid slowly opens one arm in an offer. He lets the interviewer choose how close she gets, then stands there with an arm draped over Ran's shoulders like it's the most natural thing in the world.

A spider skitters across the ceiling.

"We are going to stand here and breathe for a little bit," Cryptid says easily. He glances at Tatsuya. "How are you holding up?"

"You've seen someone go mad from this," Tatsuya realizes. His mouth puts it into words before he can stop the conclusion from lying dead as a ghost in the stifling air between them.

"Not yet," Cryptid says. He glances at Ran, then up at the dust and cobwebs.

Not yet.

There is subtext in those two words.

Tatsuya finds his heart speeding up.

The reason these interviews are safe and worth doing is that they are conducted with trained rescue specialists. The danger is chosen specifically to be something these heroes can handle in their sleep.

The danger is not supposed to come from the hero-

"Can you smell that?" Cryptid asks, cutting through Tatsuya's gasping panic.

What-

He inhales, finds he's breathing too quickly, and forces his lungs to cooperate. Two deep breaths later, he glares at Cryptid.

"Any iron?" The hero asks. "Deep breaths, long and slow. There you go, just like that. Can you smell iron?"

"You bastard," Tatsuya wheezes.

"I'm very manipulative, yes," Cryptid says serenely.

"No iron," Ran creaks.

"Fake blood," Cryptid says. He shrugs the shoulder Ran hasn't claimed at Tatsuya's disbelief and adds, "someone pranked your show. Not with whatever Onemu is doing - the void loves her too much to interfere in that. But it did allow someone to set up that painting specifically to fuck with me."

What.

"Why did I agree to this?" Tatsuya asks under his breath.

"Because you had a formative experience at thirteen where you realized surrounding yourself with extroverts and people who thrive in odd situations brings you more happiness than any desk job," Cryptid explains. Tatsuya fumbles with his very expensive equipment. "Also, I suspect you're being paid a fair amount, but really it's the same as Kaito. Y'all really should compare wages."

"We're keeping you," Ran decides from where she's pressing her hands into her face.

Cryptid grins at the ceiling, which Ran misses entirely. His smile is too wide, too sharp, and stars bleed from his shadow. "Good luck. I am not made to be contained."

Mundane cheer takes its place by the time Ran shakes her head and steps away.

Tatsuya was holding the camera, though.

Izuku waits on the building roof.

"When did you figure out it was me?"

Not needing to turn around to identify the speaker, Izuku just heaves a sigh. The empty bag of fake blood crinkles from his belt pouch. "Nobody else would."

Cloud makes a disgruntled noise.

"And that last thud upstairs was very good, but when you swear into the Null about hitting your elbow on a brick wall, I can hear it."

Cloud frowns.

"I thought you hated ghosts?" Izuku asks, and gets a strange look for the question. As if Cloud hasn't put string ghost traps on top of several versions of the cafe.

"There was nothing supernatural about that place. Guess they were ghosting you."

"Then who was Exorcism talking with?"

"She wasn't talking to-" Cloud loses about two shades of color and backs up a bit. "Right. Cool. I'm gonna- uh. Go cleanse myself in a temple or something-"

"Did you not know?!"

"No," Cloud hisses back, hair bristling slightly like a cat. "I don't mess with ghosts. They get hungry and-" he breaks off, gesturing. "I don't know shit about exorcism, but that is very much not something I want to mess with!"

"I've seen you pickpocket an HPSC president," Izuku says, mildly offended and not sure why.

#anon #trick or treat ask game #world walker #world walker: aftershocks #fic snippet #its long but i don't mind posting the whole thing #oc names are ripped from friends and a name generator

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